#weird dream where i was back home skateboarding with some people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fruitydiaz-archived · 3 years

Text

that's what i want for him

post-eddie begins | eddie meets with his attorney to change his will | a little feelings realization | a little pining | a little buckley-diaz family moment

4,097 words

AO3 link

The day that Eddie has his appointment with his attorney to alter his will, he’s sick with nerves.

He thought he had made peace with his own mortality a long time ago, when he enlisted and found himself pinned down, a world away from his family and bleeding out in the middle of a warzone — but something about the official stature of a will has always made him feel nervous.

He’s still young, and he has no plans to die anytime soon, but who really does? Shannon certainly hadn’t planned on it either. Dealing with grief is hard enough as is, especially when it’s the loss of a parent, and if Eddie can make that experience any more bearable for Chris, then that’s what he’s going to do.

Ever since Shannon died, he’s had his parents down as Christopher’s legal guardians should anything happen to him. It wasn’t a decision he ever felt comfortable with — but he didn’t have anyone else, and he didn’t really have a choice. He had to make sure that Christopher had someone in case things went wrong on a call.

But since the well came down — well, before that actually. Ever since the tsunami, ever since the lawsuit, ever since the skateboard accident — Eddie’s known that he needs to adjust his will, because in none of those situations were Eddie’s parents around to make sure Christopher was okay.

Buck was.

It wasn’t that they didn’t care. They certainly called Eddie after they heard the news about the tsunami. They asked if Christopher was okay (not him, Christopher), and made their usual comments about how Texas would be so much safer for him — they hadn’t had both an earthquake and a tsunami over the last year. They made sure they did their best to let Eddie know that he was making a mistake keeping Chris there, that he was making a mistake not relocating him after he lost his mom, that Chris was going to get seriously hurt one of these days and it would be his fault. They said all of the things he knew they would.

But they weren’t there.

The well was a close call — too close — and in that moment when the mud came down on top of him and the water started to fill his lungs — he realized he couldn’t leave Christopher with them. Not when there was someone else right there, someone who loved Christopher the way he did, someone who would do anything for him, someone who understood him.

He’s still reeling from the accident a bit, as he sits in the office, bouncing his leg up and down and trying hard to tamp down his nerves and failing, as you do after near-death experiences. He keeps having to remind himself that he’s not down there anymore, that there isn’t water all around him, that he can breathe perfectly fine, that he’s on solid ground now.

He has to remind himself that when he fell, Buck and Hen were there to grasp his hands and pull him back up. He’s okay.

“Mr. Diaz?” A voice calls to his left. He looks up to see his attorney in the doorway, standing with her hands clasped in front of her. She smiles at him politely.

She’s a tall, fairly nondescript woman, with soft, quiet features, and thick curly black hair that’s always pulled back into a bun. She always comes dressed in suits but leaves her suit jacket draped over the back of her chair, moving about her office and greeting clients in soft cashmere sweaters.

She always seems to be wearing a smile — but not in an unsettling way. When Shannon was still around, when Eddie was warming up to the idea of welcoming her back into his life, Eddie had made some comment about her having middle school teacher energy — the kind of middle school teacher that still enjoyed working with kids but also took them seriously and didn’t allow any room for bullshit — and Shannon had laughed at him for using the word energy. She said something about Buck rubbing off on him and he rolled his eyes.

It’s just that she reminds him of someone, someone from his past — but he just can’t ever place her. He’s always been bad with faces. But there’s something familiar and grounding about her, something that helped Eddie feel calm when he first met her. But today, she doesn’t calm his nerves.

He feels sick.

He hasn’t seen her since Shannon died.

He stands up and wipes his shaking hands against his jeans, following her into her office.

When Eddie imagined an attorney’s office, when he was a little younger and more naive, he imagined it being small, cramped, with overflowing filing cabinets against one wall and bookshelves filled with boxes of legal documents and binders and books filled with rules and statutes that he could never dream of understanding. He imagined it as something that would make him feel small and cramped — and that the lawyer on the other side of the desk would peer over their tiny wireframe glasses at him and scrutinize every decision he made.

But Stacy’s office is different — it’s calmer, more minimalist. Her walls are a cool white that contrasts against all of the black furniture. The boxes on her shelves are a uniform grey with white labels with little script that’s illegible to Eddie. She even has a little bonsai tree on her desk. It reminds him of a therapist’s office — one that Shannon tried to make him see earlier on in their marriage, between deployments. Sometimes he can appreciate the universe’s weird sense of humor. Today he doesn’t.

He hates having to be here, having to deal with all of the weird legal aspects of living and dying, but he’s doing this for Christopher, so he swallows his nerves.

“I understand you’re wanting to change your will?” Stacy begins, pulling Eddie’s file onto her desk and flipping it open. He nods.

“Yes, I just want to make an adjustment to the legal guardianship — for Christopher,” She nods for him to continue. “After last year, I changed it so my parents would be his legal guardians. I’d like to change it again.”

Stacy smiles softly at him again before pulling something up on her computer. She opens a drawer and retrieves some blank paperwork and sets it on her desk.

“And who will you be changing it to?”

“His name is Evan Buckley. He’s...my friend. Coworker, actually, but...he understands Chris better than they do. Or ever could, really.”

Stacy nods, writing Buck’s name down on the paper before setting the pen down, folding her hands together again, and studying Eddie.

“So, last year when we adjusted your will after your wife passed, I remember your parents being here with us,” She says, and it’s not unkind or pointed in any way, but her words still make Eddie shift in his chair, like he’s done something wrong.

“That’s right,” Eddie says, clearing his throat.

“And Mr. Buckley isn’t here with us today.”

“No,” Eddie says, picking at a loose strand in the hem of his jeans. “He’s working a shift today.”

“I see, are you sure you don’t want him to be present for this? It’s a big decision.”

Eddie blinks at her before shifting his eyes around the room.

“Does he need to be here?”

“No, not at all. We normally encourage both parties to be here, but I’m sure you’ve gotten his consent already, it’s just a formality, really,” Stacy smiles and turns back to her file, picking the pen up again, and opening her mouth to ask another question, when Eddie interrupts her.

“Do I need to have, um, written consent or something to do this? I don’t remember my parents having to sign anything.”

Stacy looks back up at Eddie. For a moment neither of them says anything. She slowly sets her pen back down.

“It’s not required, but it is recommended. This is a big decision, as I’m sure you’re aware. Trusting someone as your child’s legal guardian isn’t something to be taken lightly — especially when they’re not family.”

Eddie frowns — he’s not taking this lightly. It’s all he’s been able to think about for weeks. Every morning when he sits down with Christopher to have breakfast it’s a reminder that he almost lost this. Every time he comes home to Christopher after a long day of work there’s a sense of relief that he’s never felt before — he got to come home again. When he sees the drawings of Shannon that Christopher did that Eddie keeps locked in his nightstand — unable to throw them away, but definitely not keeping them anywhere where Chris could find them again — he remembers how close Chris came to losing another parent.

When he thinks about Chris being uprooted, ripped out of this life they built in California just to be dragged back to Texas, with parents like his who always think they know what’s best but never allow room for adjustments, with parents he knows will stifle him — it’s heartbreaking. He knows this is the right decision.

But Stacy doesn’t give him the opportunity to say all of that, and she continues to press, gently.

“You have had a conversation about this with him?” Eddie shrinks in his chair a bit.

“No, we haven’t — we haven’t talked about it. But, look, you don’t know Buck, okay? This isn’t,” He pauses, waving his hand while he tries to figure out what to say. “A couple of weeks ago, I was in an accident. It was pretty bad, and — I could’ve died. I was drowning and all I could think about was how I couldn’t leave Chris alone. And then, if I did die, how miserable he would be with my parents. I mean, you met them.”

Stacy doesn’t respond.

“Well, I was raised by them, so — I know what they’d be like, and I don’t want that for Christopher. Buck would do anything for Christopher. Already has. He’s...it’s him. I want him to be Christopher’s guardian, you know, if anything ever happens.”

Stacy nods and sits back in her chair.

“Eddie,” She starts, breaking formality. “Listen, I understand. This kind of thing happens more often than you’d think. There’s a kind of clarity that comes to people when they have a close encounter with death. I imagine it was especially clarifying for you, so soon after your wife’s death.”

She sits up again and studies Eddie carefully.

“I just want to make sure that you’re aware — if something happens and you haven’t told Mr. Buckley, he could refuse.”

Eddie shakes his head vehemently.

“No,” He says confidently. He looks at Stacy again, dead in the eye so that she knows he’s serious. “He wouldn’t do that. Believe me.”

“And if your family tries to fight it?” Eddie looks away then, and his eyes get a little distant. He smiles a small, private smile, before looking back at Stacy.

“They won’t ever fight as hard as him. Trust me.”

Stacy holds his gaze for a moment.

You learn a lot about people when you’re in her line of work — people come in all of the time and show her their hands, inadvertently pouring their hearts out, and revealing everything that’s most important to them as they sort out their estates. She’s seen plenty of people make weird, terrible, stupid, and callous decisions in the event of their death. She’s seen plenty of people come in after a close call and make hasty, half-baked decisions that she doesn’t have the power to counsel them against.

But, with her admittedly limited understanding of who Eddie Diaz is as a person, he’s not the kind of person who makes hasty, half-baked decisions, especially not when it comes to what he loves most — Christopher. They’ve only seen each other a few times: when Eddie first moved to LA and was altering his will, and when Shannon died. She’s seen him worn, tired, dragged down by grief. From what she sees, he’s a man who’s burdened by the need to do what's right for everyone else around him.

When he came in with his parents the year before, he had seemed small, and it had struck her. She remembered him from their first meeting as an army man with strong shoulders and a jaw set with stubborn determination — but then he just seemed like a child.

The man in front of her now is somewhere in between, softened by the home he’s clearly made for him and his son here. He’s still worn, a little shaken after his incident, still clearly grieving the loss of his wife, but the look in his eyes is strong and sure.

And as much as she would prefer that Mr. Buckley, or Buck, as Eddie keeps calling him, were here, she can clearly tell the difference in how Eddie feels about him versus his parents by the way he talks. He didn’t say much when his parents were in her office, just nodded along to what they said and made quiet, reserved comments to affirm their decisions. At the time, she wasn’t sure if it was the grief or their presence that was making him small — but she gets it now. Buck clearly understands Eddie in a way that few people have before.

She just hopes that Eddie talks to him about it soon — because the man does seem to be a kind of magnet for life-threatening situations, and she would really prefer not to have to break the news to a surprised, grief-stricken Evan Buckley herself. That’s her least favorite part of the job.

But she doesn’t press any further — Eddie’s made his case and Stacy’s certain she won’t be able to convince him to hold off any longer to at least talk to Buck, and they finish sorting out the paperwork.

Stacy sends Eddie off with the promise to get in touch with him when the changes to his will are finalized, and a gentle suggestion to talk with Buck soon.

He’s out the door feeling a dozen pounds lighter.

Eddie considers telling Buck after that, he really does. He understands that it’s probably something he should hear about sooner rather than later. But something holds him back, something makes him want to keep those cards close to his chest, and he’s not sure why.

He doesn’t tell anyone, not for a while. He really should tell his parents — and he will, eventually — but he’s not really looking forward to that particular conversation. He can already hear their arguments in his head, how Buck is in just as dangerous a profession as he is, how Buck is a stranger — not family, how he’s barely known this man for two years when they’ve known him his whole life — that one will make him laugh, he’s sure.

The first person he tells ends up being Carla.

It’s a few weeks later and he’s chatting with her on the phone, chopping up vegetables in the kitchen, helping prep dinner while Chris and Buck are playing games in the living room.

He’s been thinking about broaching the topic all night, now that he’s gotten a chance to be alone with Buck, but he feels a little anxious at the idea — even though he knows Buck won’t refuse. It just feels like a big thing that they probably won’t ever have to deal with — it’s not like he plans on dying.

But the idea is fresh in his mind, so it shouldn’t be that surprising when Carla asks him what’s new and he responds, “I changed my will.”

She doesn’t say anything for a second, and Eddie glances down at his phone to make sure the call didn’t get disconnected on accident.

“Oh?” Carla asks, clearly surprised. “What made you change it?”

“The well,” Eddie says, sliding some chopped carrots off the cutting board and into a bowl. He hears Carla hum in acknowledgment, then smiles as he hears Buck shout from the living room. Chris beat him, again. He’s alive, he’s okay.

“What exactly did you change?”

“Christopher’s legal guardianship...you know, if anything like that happens again and, uh, I don’t make it,” He tries to say this casually, but his throat starts to close up again at the end. He coughs.

“Who’d you change it to?” Carla asks, her voice soft. Eddie pauses, then steps away from the counter, peeking around the corner to check on Buck and Chris. The volume of their game is loud — too loud, really — but they’re engrossed in it, and Eddie’s comfortable with the thought that they can’t overhear his conversation. He walks back to his phone.

“Buck,” He admits quietly.

“Did you talk to him about this?” Carla asks, eventually, and it strikes Eddie how well she knows him. She doesn’t even sound surprised that he made Buck Christopher’s legal guardian.

When he doesn’t respond, he hears Carla sigh.

“Eddie, this is the kind of thing you should talk to him about. If something happens and he suddenly finds out from your lawyer—“

“He’s not gonna refuse,” Eddie says confidently.

“No, and I didn’t say that he would. It would just be fair to him to tell him before, God forbid, something happens to you and he has to hear it from a stranger instead of his best friend.”

“I’m not planning on dying any time soon, Carla,” Eddie says, and he wants to feel confident as he says it, wants it to come off light-hearted and joking, but he’s still terrified and his voice betrays him.

“I know you’re not, honey,” Carla says sympathetically. “But we both know that anything can happen to any one of us, any day. I know I don’t need to remind you of that.”

Eddie nods, even though Carla can’t see him, and continues chopping vegetables.

“It’s just,” Eddie pauses, working out his words. “I don’t — should I tell Christopher? Maybe he should know first.”

“How did you do it when you changed it with your parents last year?” Eddie shrugs.

“Wasn’t really my decision. They were here, they decided it should be them, they told Christopher, we went to my attorney and made it happen. This time...this time it was my choice. And I don’t really know what to do here.”

He lets out a shaky laugh and finds himself, surprisingly, wishing Shannon was here.

It’s one of those things that happens after you lose someone you love — you forget all of the bad parts of your relationship and start to miss the good. He wishes she was here right now, chopping vegetables, teasing him for being useless in the kitchen. He wishes he wasn’t having this conversation right now. He wishes he didn’t feel so old, so marked by death.

He hears Christopher’s victory shout from the living room again, and his heart races to latch onto it. As long as he has his kid, everything’s okay. He wouldn’t take anything back — not for this. Christopher’s happy now.

Then he hears Buck laughing good-naturedly, hears him lowering the volume, and then listens as Chris tries to wheedle another round out of him.

“Come on, buddy, it’s time for me to start dinner. I gotta make sure your dad doesn’t burn any of our dinner in there, or accidentally chop a finger off cutting vegetables. Let’s go get you washed up and then we can help him out, okay?”

Eddie doesn’t hear Christopher’s response, he imagines it was something like a groan and a not-so-subtle eye roll, but he registers the sound of the TV cutting off and Buck’s weight lifting up off the couch. A couple of seconds later and there’s the sound of running water in the bathroom down the hall, and Christopher giggling over the noise.

Everything’s okay.

“Look, Carla, I’m sorry to cut this short but — Buck’s here and he’s about to come help me out in the kitchen, so, I gotta—“

“Just breathe, Eddie. You’ll figure it out, okay? Just make sure you tell him soon.” Eddie hums, noncommittal, and he’s pretty sure he can hear the way Carla shakes her head fondly. “And give that boy a kiss for me, will you?”

“Christopher or Buck?” Eddie jokes before he can stop himself. He freezes, knife hovering mid chop. He hears the water in the bathroom shut off and starts to panic, for some reason he can’t explain. That’s a normal joke to make about your friend, right? Carla would totally kiss him if she was here.

“Whichever one you want,” Carla says after a while, quiet and knowing.

“Hey, is that Carla?” Buck asks as he enters the kitchen.

“Great, thanks Carla, bye,” Eddie rushes, flustered and scrambling to end the call. He turns back around to face Buck, who’s looking at him quizzically.

“I was just gonna say hi?” He says, tilting his head to the side. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Great,” Eddie says, unconvincingly. Buck raises an eyebrow. “Um, fine, just — not sure...how many...potatoes you need me to chop?”

Buck doesn’t take his eyes off Eddie. He studies him, eyes flicking over his face, mentally running through his memory to see if Eddie’s been off lately. And, well, he has — he almost died a couple of weeks ago.

Eddie’s caginess isn’t hard to read — but Buck’s gotten pretty good at knowing when’s the right time to push and when’s the right time to sit back and wait, let Eddie come to him. As much as he doesn’t like it, this is a sit back and wait kind of situation.

He regards Eddie one last time before stepping up to the counter next to him, his hand hovering behind Eddie’s back. Eddie really wants to know why that makes him nervous all of a sudden. They’re close to each other all the time, practically touching each other constantly, but right now proximity to Buck is making it hard to breathe. Buck’s only got a couple of inches on him but it feels like he’s towering over him. It’s making him a little dizzy.

“I’m pretty sure this is enough,” Buck says, sliding away from Eddie and pulling a tray out of the cabinet by the stove, blissfully unaware of the way Eddie’s heart is racing in his chest. “I told Christopher he could help so I figured he could season the vegetables? I’ll measure the spices out for him so we don’t end up eating pure salt like we did last time.”

He sends Eddie a wink as he says that and then turns around, pulling spices out of Eddie’s cabinets and grabbing these tiny bowls that Eddie didn’t even know he had. He’s stunned, watching Buck move around the kitchen with ease, like this isn’t the hundredth time Buck has been over to cook them dinner.

It feels a little like he stepped into some alternate reality, like everything is exactly as it should be but something’s just slightly off. Something’s shifted, but he’s not sure what.

When Christopher comes in moments later, Buck gets him set up at the table easily, letting him sit himself and setting his crutches to the side, placing the tray down in front of him with all of the spices in reach, and pointing out what each of them are and explaining how they flavor the food.

He drizzles the oil over the vegetables and then lets Chris go for it, dumping the bowls over the tray and then getting in there with him, using their hands to coat them all evenly. And that, of course, is Christopher’s favorite part. While Eddie’s still processing, the kitchen’s filled with the sounds of Christopher laughing and Buck laughing along with him, encouraging the way he tosses each vegetable around to cover it in spices.

Eddie stands at the counter, still stunned, but warm all over. This is the kind of thing that keeps him going, the kind of thing that keeps him fighting when things get hard. It’s the kind of thing that Eddie will tuck inside his heart as a precious memory that will come back to him in the future whenever things inevitably get dark again.

He doesn’t want to tell Buck about the guardianship yet. He’ll tell Christopher first, and then his parents, and then, whenever the moment’s right, then he’ll tell Buck.

He’s not in any kind of rush. Things are perfect right now, and he just wants to enjoy that for a little bit longer.

#al talks #buddie #911 fox #okay maybe i’ll slow down now that i got this out of my head fjskfj #my fic

81 notes · View notes

kj-1130 · 4 years

Text

Feelings Suck

Uswnt x reader

⚠️T/W: implication to emotional/verbal abuse? Bullying, lil bit of self-harm maybe? lemme know if it’s something else.⚠️

Main Masterlist

Your first call up to the national team came when you were 16. This had been your dream since you first started watching and playing soccer. Being able to train with such inspirational and empowering women was amazing.

When you arrived, you were kind of shy at first. You honestly didn’t expect to be called up again, so you figured there was no point in trying to get to know everyone and develop relationships.

Much to your surprise, you had been asked to attend another camp. Then, you started to get to know the ladies more and you learned that they were amazing people.

The women were so understanding and just nice in general. If only the media and your classmates had been the same.

Before you had been called up, you weren’t very popular at school. Many didn’t notice you were there; you were essentially invisible to everyone even some teachers. But after you made your debut, things started to change.

You had never yearned for popularity, but hoped it was the good kind if it ever did come to you. But when it came to you, it came fast, hard, and unexpected yet not the way you hoped.

People started pointing out flaws; saying you weren’t good enough to be playing with such great athletes or that you didn’t look like other soccer players.

Not only that, but the media had ripping your ass as well. Almost every time you looked, your social media was full of your mistakes. From compilations of your greatest fails to commentators.

The supposed fans of the Uswnt, were absolutely ruthless to you. Always saying that you didn’t deserve your spot and anybody was easily ten times better than you.

You had your teammates and surely they’d understand what you were going through. The thought of asking for help had crossed your mind multiple times; when you saw Christen just watching television the first time you were roomed together. Or when you and Tobin had spent the day together going to get lunch. There were plenty of times you could’ve reached out, but the constant overthinking and weight you had on your shoulders told you otherwise.

You tried not to let it get to you, but when you hear something so much you start to believe it. If being on the national team gave you this much baggage, you’d rather be invisible like before.

You always thought that you’d burden people with your problems. Everybody has issues of their own that some didn’t know about, but they carried on. That’s what you thought. If people can get through their issues then so can you.

Day by day, the team noticed that your behavior had changed. You didn’t talk as much and you weren’t as chipper as usual.

You didn’t do your daily morning yoga with Christen often opting to do some light training instead. You no longer went skateboarding with Ash and Tobin, but spent your time in your hotel room looking at stats or ways to improve your play. It didn’t matter to you how much time it took.

You just wanted someone to recognize that you’re something; that’s what you always longed for. Each time someone said something about your horrible play, your parents were only being proved right. They always told you that you’d never get anywhere with the sport; that there were athletes much better than you. But you always pushed past that, desperate to show them that you could and would make it. Yet now, it just seems like they were just telling the truth.

You had gotten off the phone with your parents not long ago. Both of them screamed at you for a good thirty minutes, complaining that you had wasted their money on soccer. Complaining that you had no right to be such a bad player when they gave you everything you needed. Of course you felt guilty; they manipulated you to think it’s your fault.

So here you were once again, sitting at the hotel’s desk trying to get it together. You had training in an hour so you had to suck it up.

Before you could start getting ready, Alex, your roommate, came in with Kelley, Allie, Christen, and Tobin.

You quickly wiped away your tears and hoped you didn’t look like you were about to breakdown. Thankfully, luck was on your side today.

Alex came over and sat on her bed along with Kelley and Allie, “Hey kiddo, we’re just gonna hang out for a bit til training. What were you up to?”

You hadn’t really been doing anything since the phone call so you just came up with a lie, “Nothing much. Just on my phone.”

The women had started engaging in conversation, so you decided to just get ready.

Grabbing your clothes, you went to take a shower. Once you stepped inside, you tried avoiding the mirror all together, but it was so hard. It was right there; right in front of you. It was impossible for you to ignore.

When you turned and got a glimpse of yourself, all you heard were your classmates. ‘You’re too big to be a soccer player.’ ‘You’re never gonna make it big.’ ‘You’re worthless, whatever you do is for nothing.’

You blocked out their voices, but soon came your parents’. ‘You’re wasting our money.’ ‘You’re not good enough’ ‘We should’ve given you away when we had the chance.’

Those had been things you’d heard before; the last one always hitting you the hardest. Maybe they were right. Maybe you were just a nobody with no guaranteed future with this sport. Maybe you should just quit it all...

Christen had gone quiet after you made it into the bathroom. She noticed some of your odd behavior especially quick since she didn’t have her yoga buddy anymore.

The others kept talking but the more the forward thinks about it, your mood has surely been dampening. You hadn’t spoken to her about anything, but she hoped that you did feel comfortable to speak to her when you were having problems.

Christen speaks up as she no longer can keep this to herself, “Has anybody else noticed (Y/n)’s been acting weird lately?”

The other athletes in the room contemplate for a second before nodding their heads, already trying to figure out what was wrong.

Kelley had been scrolling through social media at the time and happened to come across some comments, “Uh, guys? I think I have an idea of what’s going on.”

Everyone in the room immediately snapped their heads over to the defender and crowded around her. Allie was the first to see and started reading one, “‘(Y/n) (L/n) honestly needs to be removed from the team. Literally anyone would be a better choice, like come on.’ That has over one hundred likes. There’s no way she hasn’t seen any of these.”

The women all shared sad looks. Christen was about to say something but you opened the door, having finished getting ready.

Everyone scrambled back to their respectful spots and you raised an eyebrow at their frantic behavior.

Shaking your head, you decide to go down to the lobby to be alone and hopefully clear your head.

Before you could even make it to the door, someone had called you, “Hey (y/n)?”

You sighed before answering, “Yes, Alex?”

“Where you going?”

You just wanted to go somewhere without being questioned for once. You understood that you were the youngest, but the level of overprotectiveness these women have is off the charts.

“No, I’m not leaving the hotel. Yes, I have my phone. Yes, I have my key card. I’m just going to the lobby to chill for a bit before practice.”

You had been through the exact same interrogation almost every time you wanted to leave your hotel room.

Luckily, before Alex could grill you any further, Christen stepped in, “It’s fine (y/n), just go ahead.”

You muttered a small bye and walked out the door. When you were halfway down the hall and heard the door close, you let one of your tears fall.

When it was time for practice, you had just been off your game. You were missing shots you normally wouldn’t, your tackles were messy, and everything was just an overall mess right now. And everyone else could tell.

Every word read or that was spoken to you were just in your brain, making themselves at home. They were right there, always reminding you what a failure you are and that you’ll always be one. They were there letting you know that your parents were right all along. They were there making themselves known in any way possible.

You were so close to breaking down at this point. Vlatko took you off the field and told you to get yourself together. You honestly didn’t know if you could anymore.

You were so close to breaking and didn’t know if anyone could pick up the leftover pieces.

Sitting down on the sidelines, you immediately put your knees to your chest and tucking your head in between them. You tried to calm down, but it was so hard. Your senses were dialed to 11 and everything was too much. You decided to get up and go to your bag where you kept your phones along with your earbuds.

You quickly scrambled to get them on; anything to block out the chaos of your brain was good at the moment. All unaware of the worried eyes on you.

In that moment, the team had decided to get to the bottom of this and help you.

You shouldn’t have expected to be able to hide this forever. You shouldn’t have expected to be able to use homework as an excuse to not hang out forever.

When there was a mandatory team bonding called in your and Alex’s room, you knew something was about to happen. Whether that something was about to benefit you was the question.

When you got to the hotel, you expected that you’d be able to shower then relax a bit and prepare yourself for the inevitable conversation you were about to have with all 20+ women on the team.

So when you did step out of the restroom, you absolutely did not expect over 40 eyes already on you.

“Nope.”

“Ah, ah, ah, no,” Ali said while walking over to you, dragging you with her to her spot and pulling you onto her lap. Your eyes widened slightly and you immediately moved yourself to the spot next to her.

Everyone was thinking similar things. You usually loved your cuddles and they’d always make you feel better if you were stressed because of school or anything else.

“So,” Ash said, “you wanna tell us what’s been going on?”

You simply looked down at your fidgeting hands and shrugged your shoulders. “What’s there to tell?”

Ali shrugs her shoulders as well, “Oh I don’t know. Maybe how you were off your game today.”

When have I ever been on my game?

“Or how you’ve been distancing yourself from everyone.”

I don’t deserve to be here anyway.

“Or—“

“Okay, okay. I don’t know what you want me to say,” you muttered.

You were panicking. This is overwhelming you and you didn’t really want to have much human interaction after training.

“Look, you don’t have to go into detail,” Tobin said. She was always chill and her demeanor relaxed you a bit. “You can just give us a gist and let us help you. Please, (y/n). We care about you and your behavior shows something is wrong. Let us help.”

And there was the guilt trip.

Tobin’s words started to make you tear up.

After much hesitation you decide to say something (more like mumbled).

“They say things.”

Ali takes your face in her hands and lifts it up, forcing your bloodshot eyes to make contact with hers.

“Can you speak up sweetie?”

“They say things,” you spoke with a tremble in your voice.

“Who says things?”

“Everybody. They all do.”

Every woman in the room shares glances. They knew you were still going to school when you didn’t have camp so hate could be extended there too.

Christen decides to contribute to the conversation, “You know what anyone says isn’t true, right?”

You shrugged again.

“(Y/n),” Kelley spoke sternly.

“What?” You finally snapped. Every word after this just spilled out of you like a dam.

“I’ve been hearing it for the past 17 years, do you not expect me to believe it! I see it everyday, there's no hiding it.”

There it was. You snapped. Everything was coming out. Your body shook from sobs and Ali quickly pulled you closer into her embrace.

There was no dry eye. No one knew of your home situation and now the cat’s out of the bag.

“(Y/n),” you were pulling your hair; the pain always grounded you.

“(Y/n)!”

“What?!”

Ali grabbed your wrist and gently yanked them from your head.

“You’re having a panic attack. Breathe.”

You were shaking your head, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

It took at least 10 minutes to calm down. The team gave you a few more minutes to regroup.

When you became more aware of your surroundings, you realized how much your head was hurting.

While you were hiding in Ali’s shoulder, everyone asked questions.

“What do you mean 17 years, (y/n)?” Casey asked.

“My parents. They say stuff too. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s just go to sleep, alright?” Ali always knew how to calm you down.

You nodded and hummed into her neck and fell asleep soon after.

From then on, the team was going to protect you. How? They didn’t know at the moment, but they were absolutely determined.

370 notes · View notes

heartsywritesthethings · 3 years

Text

Nosy Little Miya

Author: GA!babe

Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity

Summary: Miya likes to step away from the little skate fam in order to people watch and eavesdrop. Everyone’s favorite clown punk babysitter ain’t too happy and decides to mess with the kid a little. (Word Count: 1881 words)

~~~

One week before the sleepover

Knowing the gossip and secrets around S was kind of Miya’s whole thing. Before he had met Reki, Langa, Shadow, Cherry, and Joe, he had just slunk around the illegal skating area. Sure he would skate a few beefs every now and again, but it was much more interesting to learn about every little hidden detail about the skaters’ lives.

When people were around their friends, they tended to let their guards down. They would talk about their crushes, their work, their goals in life. Everything under the guise that they were just chatting to a friend. No one seemed to notice or care about a little kid with headphones innocently playing a game just a few feet away.

Headphones were a great way to subtly eavesdrop on a conversation. After all, most of the time he didn’t even have sound playing through them. The amount of S gossip that he has heard is kind of ridiculous, and now, Miya made it a point to know everything about everyone at S. It didn’t matter how new or old they were, he made it his business to know.

What did he do with all of this knowledge? Well, sometimes it was helpful during bets during beefs down the course. Sure, someone could look tough enough to beat a smaller skater, but no one else knew about a recently dead family pet that might affect the mentality of the projected winner. Miya knew. And he always won.

Tonight was a little different. Two relatively new skaters had begun to frequent S, so Miya needed to know as much as he could about them.

“And what are you going to do about it, little lee?” A skater purred to their partner one night, making the other turn a very bright shade of red.

“Sparky! There are people around.” The other skater whined. The first skater, Sparky, moved forward and squeezed the other’s side, making them jump.

“What? Afraid people will notice me tickling you?” Sparky continued to tease while their partner turned this way and that, eyes darting around to see if anyone was eavesdropping.

The only one within earshot was a small boy with bulky headphones on, and he looked pretty preoccupied with his game.

“Stop saying that word.” the partner whined, covering their face with their skateboard. Sparky chuckled and shook their head.

“What word? Tickle? Tickle tickle tick-” Sparky teased before they saw someone walking their way. They hopped on their skateboard and waved for their partner to follow.

Miya glanced up to see what had scared them off when he saw the familiar painted face of Shadow, one of the best skaters at S.

“There ya are! We were lookin’ everywhere for ya!” Shadow announced as he made his way over. He noticed the two new skaters still lingering and made a scary face at them, causing them both to hop on their boards and skate away as fast as they could.

Shadow chuckled at himself before plopping down on the bench next to Miya.

“Why’d you do that? I was watching them. They’re new.” Miya grumbled, turning his attention back to his game. Granted, this was just animal crossing and he could play this in his sleep, but he was pouting.

“What? Those two? They’re harmless! I think one of them just learned how to skate too. Why do you need to know everything about everyone anyways?” Shadow asked, leaning back and sighing dramatically.

“If you’re not gonna tell me why you’re here, then just go away so I can do my job,” Miya huffed.

“We were just wonderin’ where you went is all. One minute you’re making dumb jokes next to Reki and the next – poof! – you’re gone. Can’t have you wandering around on your own,” Shadow said and ruffled Miya’s hair. Miya snapped his head over as if he were a cat about to bite the hand of someone who had just gotten too close.

“I can take care of myself. I was hanging around here before you slimes decided to show up and bother me anyways.” Miya snapped. He saved his game and began to put it away in his bag.

“Yeah, okay, well, Cherry’s weird skateboard said something kinda concerning about the amount of kids going missing every year. I don’t wanna take any chances.” Shadow said, getting up as he noticed Miya was getting up as well.

“That pink-haired slime can make his board say whatever he wants. Leave me alone, I’m working tonight and you stick out like a sore thumb,” Miya said, standing up and getting ready to leave —

When Shadow easily scooped him up and tossed him over his shoulder as if he were nothing more than a bag of flower seeds.

“Hey! What are you doing? Put me down! Help!” Miya screeched, kicking his legs and waving his arms around randomly. It wasn’t the most dignified way for him to fight back, but surely someone would notice a large scary man carting away a small wailing kid.

Pretty soon, people began looking over at them. Whispers and murmurs began amongst the skaters of people trying to decide whether or not to call the police.

“You are just a little troublemaker, aren’t you?” Shadow growled, taking Miya by the hood and holding him out at arm’s length so that they could glare at each other. Miya smirked before sticking out his tongue at the clown-looking skater.

“Alright, you’re asking for it.” Shadow said, a look of complete mischief on his own face. Miya didn’t have enough time to process before he was hugged close to Shadow’s chest. Before he had time to crack a joke or flail around, Shadow’s fingers began to wiggle against Miya’s sides.

Miya squeaked and squirmed, only to find that he could barely move against Shadow’s broad chest. And those fingers just kept moving and wiggling on his sides and Miya couldn’t handle it anymore.

Giggles began to pour out of his little mouth and all fight completely drained from his little body.

“Are you going to behave, Miya? You can become my little giggly accessory. Every clown needs a creepy laughing kid with them.” Shadow teased, trying to get a good look at Miya’s laughing face.

“Ihihihhihihi am nohohohot crehehehehehehepy!” Miya giggled, pressing his forehead against Shadow’s chest, trying to hide his smile from both Shadow and the people who were looking.

“I couldn’t quite hear that,” Shadow teased, taking Miya by the hood and holding him out again. Miya kicked his feet out again, trying to get away from Shadow in any way he could now. One of his kicks gets dangerously close to Shadow’s family jewels.

“Woah! Alright, now you’re really in for it!” Shadow growled. He lets Miya drop to the ground for one second before pushing him down to the ground.

“No no no no no no!” Miya giggled, shaking his head as he looked at the evil clown faced tickle monster descending down on him.

“Oh yeah. I’ll make sure you’re too tired to make any more trouble for me tonight.” Shadow said, lifting Miya’s hoodie and undershirt, exposing his soft tummy to the cool night air.

“You crazy slime clown! Gehehet away from meHEHEHEHEHE!” Miya stammered before loud cackling laughter erupted from his little body. Shadow had blew a raspberry on Miya’s stomach and the ticklish vibrations had made the little cat boy feel such an intense wave of ticklish energy that he had never really felt before.

“Are you going to behave?” Shadow asked, his free hand poking and prodding around Miya’s stomach.

People were looking at their antics, but neither Shadow nor Miya really cared at this point. No one was going to mess with Shadow and at this point…that poor little kid definitely looked like he was having fun.

“Miya?” Shadow asked, still smiling as he waited for a response from the giggling kid on the ground.

“I…Ihihihi…” Miya giggled, not quite sure if he actually wanted this torment to end. He was actually…enjoying himself? Sure, it was a little embarrassing to be seen like this, he knew he could easily slide back into the shadows whenever he needed, so it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“You waited too long!” Shadow said demonically before blowing another huge raspberry against Miya’s stomach.

Miya, once again, cackled, his eyes squeezing shut as he was once again overwhelmed, but it was definitely welcome. So often, he knew that others thought that he didn’t want to be there. Honestly? They were kind of right. Only sometimes, he found skating fun. He kept skating and staying around S, of course, for those rare times when skating brought him that happiness he so often craved.

That was, before he met his ragtag group of skating friends. Some of them seemed as if they hated each other, but it was all in good fun. This? This tickling session? Definitely fun.

But now it was too much. A moment of panic struck through his little body as his brain announced “Okay, done here!”, but it went away as Shadow pulled away.

“Y'all watchin’ something funny? What the hell you lookin’ at? ROAHHHHHH!” Shadow yelled, sticking out his tongue and outright roaring at the other skaters watching. They quickly scattered, the sounds of wheels against pavement the only thing left as they were all too smart to stick around.

Miya got up, putting his little hoodie down over his stomach and popping his skateboard up, catching one side with a hand.

“Race you to the others?” Miya said, as if he hadn’t just been tickled to absolute pieces two minutes ago.

“You’re gonna lose, catboy.” Shadow said, jumping onto his board and kicking off.

“In your dreams, you slime,” Miya snickered and kicked off of the pavement and racing down the hill.

~~~

“Yeah, I’ll take him home.” Shadow said to Cherry.

Miya was curled up against his board, snoring quietly. It was pretty late in the night and the crew was beginning to pack up and each head to their own houses.

“That’s weird. He’s never fallen asleep like this before.” Cherry hummed, looking at the kid up and down.

“Does someone have a sharpie? A marker?” Reki asked excitedly, patting his own pockets down and smiling mischievously.

“None of that, kid. He has school tomorrow.” Shadow said, nudging the redhead in the shoulder.

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun.” Reki whined.

“Don’t you also have school tomorrow?” Shadow asked with a raised eyebrow.

“We do have that test tomorrow, Reki. Maybe you should get some sleep before–” Langa said, placing a hand on Reki’s shoulder.

“A what? A test?” Reki exclaimed. He hopped onto his board, looking completely panicked. “Alright, bye guys! Gotta go!”

And just like that, Reki sped away into the night. Langa was quick to follow, giving the others a quick two finger salute.

“I can have Carla call a car for him if you don’t know the kid’s address.” Cherry offered, holding up his board. Shadow shook his head then easily scooped the sleeping boy into his arms.

“I’ve got this.” He said. “This nosy little kid ain’t the only one who knows things around here. ”

63 notes · View notes

dancing-the-hellfire-rumba · 4 years

Text

So randomly spewed thoughts on Moxie (2021) for anyone who cares. This likely contains spoilers. Also a trigger warning for sexual assault mentions in the eighth bullet point.

Bro this ain't funny, the cast in this really drove this movie home, istg.

There's something inherently Netflix about it. There were seriously cringy quotes in there, and it's this bullshit I hear that "it's a teen movie, teenagers are cringy" no and no. Just because teenagers are cringy doesn't mean the movie has to be. Also, even if they are, they should be recognized as cringy, not portrayed as quotable.

Really liked the almost sex-scene with Vivian and Seth, because finally, a pop culture guy that's not a complete horn dog and is actually genuinely careful and good and nice and loving.

Generally, I know it wasn't about him, but Seth in this movie oh my god.

I hated the false attempt at inclusivity. I'm not talking about race related topics, even though all the things that were mentioned that were race related, were completely surface level. I'm talking about that disabled character that was completely decorative and the way all these black women were used to further Vivian's plot and how there was one wlw kiss which was brushed off and then the characters involved were never seen together again. I don't mean in a relationship. I mean in the same frame, alone.

This is still about a white girl discovering feminism.

However I did like how in the end she stepped back and let the rest talk.

The whole rape thing felt forced and sudden and really counteracted the weight of the rest of the movie. Which is to say, either this movie wasn't heavy enough to support it, or that was too heavy to be mentioned in passing. The affect that confession had on Vivian was barely shown and I'm honestly bummed about it, because can you imagine what it would be like to get an anonymous letter from someone confessing that they've been raped, because they think you'll be the only person willing to listen? If you go there, you have to GO there. Not brush it off with a bunch of women screaming their frustration out and then bam, pish, we're good here. Really kind of understated the trauma.

The way casual sexism was shown was incredible, realistic and accurate. Really well done. I have either gone through the stuff shown, or know people that have. No drama or funfair. Good fuckin job.

That screaming scene? Felt. Kinda like they just wanted to make an iconic scene. Again. Liked the idea. Mediocre execution.

The wardrobe. Really good. Music? Excellent.

That scene at the thrift store. Very fun. Very realistic. Still a bit weird bc boomers writing for gen zers is always uncomfortable and not quite right, but this was pretty close, I really saw myself there. Really nice.

What the FUCK was that date with Seth, where they picked their caskets and laid in one listening to music??? Netflix's gotta netflix I guess. More soft boys and manic pixie dream girls. So unnecessary. I would much rather them be in a field and just talking or even Seth teaching her how to skateboard or some shit idk. Not that crap that felt more John Green than anything I've ever fuckin seen and genuinely didn't fit these characters.

Just feminism? I guess? But attempted to be contained in a lighthearted movie? I liked the structure and how it wasn't about a straight romance alone, it was mostly about forming friendships and fighting for something important, but also, some of these characters felt really weird and not particularly fleshed out, while the movie felt like an attempt to be epic and iconic, but missing the target by a couple of inches.

It was fun ngl. Nice to look at. I honestly like it. I just don't think it's flawless.

#moxie #film #film review #if youve watched it #tell me what you think!!#feminism #sexism #netflix

80 notes · View notes

bittywitches · 4 years

Text

A random Dialogue I came up with in my head while trying to fall asleep the night before. // G.D

Been having trouble writing lately and ended up just daydreaming (night dreaming?) abt Grayson one night, so I thought I’d try and just get it out and write something. Enjoy :)

You’re sitting in your bedroom, laying on your back with your laptop sitting on your stomach. You’re cuddled up with your jumbo-oversized teddy bear, your head resting on it’s furry stomach and your elbows lazily resting against it’s fat squishy legs. A google doc is opened on your screen, and you’re trying to half-assedly write a response for your final project on why Duke Orsino actually was gay in Twelfth Night, along with many of the other supporting characters, despite what most old white bardolators may tell you.

You feel a vibration near your leg, and you tilt your head to the side to see someone calling your phone. You pick it up, and your eyes widen when you see that it's a facetime call from Grayson Dolan. This was, of course, a shock, considering you and Grayson weren’t even that close friends, you only occasionally texted each other anymore, barely ever called, and literally NEVER facetimed. You guys had barely spoken to each other since quarantine had started, so it was definitely a surprise.

Your eyes flicker to your laptop screen, seeing that it’s around 9pm. Not too late that it’s sketchy or anything, but still pretty late for it to be strange.

You place your laptop down beside you and situp, leaning back against your headboard, quickly tying your hair up into a quick messy bun to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You slide the green phone icon across your screen.

Grayson’s face appears on your phone. He’s wearing a cute oversized fuzzy hoodie. His short hair is a bit frizzy, and it still takes you by surprise because you’re so used to seeing his long flowy locks.

“Heyy,” Grayson says, smiling at you. From behind his screen, Grayson sets himself down onto the living room couch, laying back on the arm.

“Hey.” You respond.

“What’re you up to?”

“Uhh, not much. Just working on final assignments and whatnot.”

“Oh, yea, school’s almost over for you, right?”

“Yep, just a few more weeks.”

“Bet you’re excited to finally get time off.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, tired of being stressed all the time.”

“Makes sense.”

An awkward silence fills both your rooms.

“Soo…” Grayson lays his head on the side of his couch.

“What’s up? Why’d you call?” You ask him.

“Oh, no reason. Just bored and felt like talking to someone.”

“Ethan not home?”

“Nah, he went out skateboarding with some friends.”

“This late?”

“It’s not that late. Just went to the park nearby.”

“Sounds fun. You know, I’ve always wanted to learn how to skateboard.”

“Yea?”

“Mhm. Maybe E can teach me sometime.”

“Hey, I know how to skateboard too. And I’d definitely be a much better teacher.”

You laugh. “Alright, next time we meet up you can teach me how to skateboard.”

“It’s a date.”

You both give a lighthearted chuckle, but then things turn quiet again.

“Erm, hold on.” You place your phone down on your bed.

“Where’re you goin’?”

“Gonna put my phone on a pillow so I don’t have to keep holding it,” You say, grabbing your nearest one and doing your best to balance your phone on top of it.

“Is that a giant teddy bear?” From the angle of your phone, Grayson can see your big stuffed animal sitting behind you.

“Haha, yea.” You lean back down on it briefly to give him a better idea of the size. “He’s my cuddle buddy.”

“That’s cute.”

“Our relationship has gotten a lot stronger since quarantine started.” You peck the bear on the nose. Grayson laughs.

“I’m happy for you guys.” You giggle, sitting back up.

“Why thank you.” You turn your attention back to your laptop quickly, and Grayson follows your line of vision.

“So what subject is this final for?”

“English.” You sigh. “Which sucks, because I’m shit at it.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Oh but it is. I always do incredibly bad, I’m literally the worst.”

“Well you’re definitely not the worst, because I exist.”

“Well yeah but it’s not your fault that you can’t read.”

“Hey, I can read!”

“Sorry, It’s not your fault that you’re ass at reading. It is however my fault that I can’t write for shit.”

He laughs. “Fine, sure.”

You giggle. “Sorry. Just a bit stressed.”

“No big deal.”

Silence again. Usually now would be the time you’d make some excuse and cut the call. But for some reason unknown to you, you didn’t want to do that. You want to fill it.

“Oh, I watched your guys’ last video.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Tell me you guys weren’t just trying to look like douchebags with your literal 100 grand.”

“Aughhh,” He groans, rubbing his face with the hand not holding his phone. “I swear we really weren’t.”

“Uhuh.”

“I realize that it may not look like that,”

“Oh really?”

“Considering we actually had wads of cash,”

“Mhmmm.”

“But we weren't, I swear. We just thought it’d be funny for a stupid little video.”

“Okay then.”

“Hey!”

“Not judging.”

“Since when do you watch our videos anyways?”

You gave him a side-look. “What do you mean? You think I don’t?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. Just assumed…”

“You’re my friend. ‘Course I do.”

He smiles.

“Plus they are pretty fun. Like to have them on in the background when I work sometimes..”

“No way, really?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“I mean, all the ones since quarantine we’ve had to be pretty creative with. Since we’re stuck at home and all.”

“You guys don’t give yourselves enough credit. I love what you come up with. It’s cool to just listen to you both ramble about stuff.”

“...Are you saying you also listen to the podcast?”

Your eyes shoot back to him. He was actually joking, but seeing your guilty expression lead to the smug sort of look on his face.

“You guys have very satisfying voices, okay?”

“Uhuh.”

“Shut the fuck up!” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Either way, thanks. It means a lot that you do. I never really know if people we’re friends with like our stuff, so it’s good to know that at least someone does.”

You smile, and he returns it.

You suddenly hear a ding coming from his side.

“Oh shit almost forgot about my toast-” You see Grayson’s phone wobble as he gets up to head for the kitchen.

“Avocado?”

“You know it.” “Dang, I don’t think I’ve had avocado toast since…” You pause. “Huh. I guess since I accidentally ran into you at that one restaurant and we happened to get food together.”

“What-” He rights the phone so it’s facing him again. “That was ages ago!”

“Yea, I know.”

“That’s unacceptable.”

“You may think so.”

“Alright, so after I teach you how to skateboard, I’m gonna have to take you out for food.”

You laugh. “Is that a set in stone thing?”

“Oh definitely.”

He sets his food down on a table, and you watch as he tries to balance his phone up against something. He sits down, then takes a bit before looking back up at you.

“So when’s this due?”

“Uhh, tomorrow night.”

“You almost done?”

“Er..” You look at your half written page. “...sort of.”

“So no,” he chuckles, and you do too.

“I’ll finish it, don’t worry.”

“Didn’t say I was.”

“Well that’s ru-”

“Because I know you’ll finish it,” He interrupts you, and you roll your eyes. “You always do.”

You sigh, setting your elbow down on your knee and resting your face on your hand. You watch him silently for a bit, and he takes a few more bites before realizing your eyes on him.

“What?” He says, food still in his mouth.

“Nothin’,”

“Yea?”

“Yea, just… kinda just miss you.” You finally blurt out.

He stops chewing suddenly, and looks at his phone with a very intent look. He expects you to say more, but you don’t, looking back at your laptop screen.

He swallows, then sets his toast down. “Kinda just miss you too.”

You smile, trying to hide it by squishing the palm of your hand into your face, not taking your eyes off of the illuminated laptop.

“Why don’t we hang out anymore?”

“Because we’re legally not allowed to.” You finally look back at your phone, grabbing it from it’s pillow stand and then flopping down onto your bear’s belly.

He rolls his eyes. “No, smartass. Before that.”

You shrug. “Dunno. We never really did to begin with.”

“Sure we did, there was the restaurant, and…” He trails off, looking far away at some corner of the room.

“I mean we hung out with other friends. And we talked sometimes.” You shrug again. “Not really much else though.”

He runs a hand through his short hair. “Why not?”

You laugh. “Bro, I don’t know! You never asked!”

“Well I fuckin wanted to!” He rubs his face with both his hands as he chuckles.

“Really?” Your laughter dies down now, a softer tone taking on your voice.

“Duh, of course.” He tilts his head as his soft eyes look at you. “You’re really fucking cool, and I really wanted to get to know you better, but it felt weird to just randomly come out of no where and be like ‘hey, wanna hang out?’ like that shit usually comes naturally, yknow?”

“Well, we don’t really hang out in the same circles, so I don’t know how it would.”

“Yeah, but I thought maybe…” He sighs. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know if you wanted to be friends or anything, so..”

“Well that’s frustrating.” You slump your shoulders down, relaxing more into your bed. “I really wanted to be friends. Just didn’t wanna seem fucking… annoying or anything.”

“Oh my god why are we like this.”

“I don’t fucking know!!” You both burst out laughing, and you momentarily drop your phone to rub the tears out of your eyes.

“Okay, it’s settled then.” You hear his voice and pick your phone up off your stomach to face it towards your face again, now sitting up.

“What is?”

“After quarantine and everything is over I’m definitely taking you out for food and skateboarding.”

You grin. “Okay. Sounds amazing.”

“Great.” There’s quiet again, but it’s not awkward anymore, both of your gleeful grins speak volumes over it.

“Okay.”

You giggle. “Okay, I should go. Should probably actually try and get this thing done.”

“Right. I’ll… call you tomorrow?”

You bite your tongue. “Yeah.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

You cut the call, and let your arms fall down to your sides as you fall back on your bed and grin up at the ceiling. You squeeze your eyes shut, just breathing in and out to calm yourself down from the little rush. Though the buzz of your phone once again catches your attention.

You get up and look at it, seeing it’s a text from Grayson.

Grayson D.: Just realized you probably don’t have a skateboard…

You bit your lip, and flopped down onto your belly now, your legs up in the air as you text him back.

Y/N: You’d be right 😅

Your eyes eagerly watch the three dots bouncing on the screen.

Grayson D.: Would you wanna borrow one of mine?

Y/N: I’m totally good with getting my own, but idk where

Grayson D.: Well there’s this shop near my house…

Assignment long forgotten, you and Grayson end up talking well into the night.

#grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan blurb #grayson dolan concept #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan x reader #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins concept #dolan twins imagine #ethan dolan #grayson dolan fanfiction #dolan twins

224 notes · View notes

immabethehero · 4 years

Text

Schneeplestein Apparently Has a Heart

The good doctor’s birthday is here and of course I wrote a story! Just warning, this story is quite dark. Read the trigger warnings below.

TW: Suicide attempt by gunshot (not seen, just implied), suicidal thoughts and words, extreme distress, minor violence, blood mentioned.

For the short amount of time that Jackieboy Man and Marvin the Magnificent have lived with Dr. Henrik Nicholas von Schneeplestein, MD, PhD, MVP, FFS, they have learned a few important lessons, or rules:

NEVER, under any circumstances, touch the top left cupboard on the outside of the kitchen opening. That’s where Schneep’s coffee supply is, and if you touch it, even ONCE, Schneep will be out for your blood.

UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES should you mention Schneep’s wife, Lisette Schneeplestein. Apparently, the French brunette whom Schneep has been married to for the past 7 years has fucked off (Schneep’s words) back to France with her tennis instructor, Rick, short for Ricardo (Italian, apparently) and taken their two daughters with her. (Schneep has cleaned out Lisette and the girls’ rooms, and all the belongings they have left behind, in their efforts to leave so quickly, are packed away in storage containers in the garage. Schneep has yet to mail them to Lisette’s new address.)

DO NOT wake Schneep earlier than 10 AM in the morning if it’s his one day off. Despite having an early bird’s job, Schneep is not a morning person. Another reason why Schneep is dependent on coffee.

UNLESS it is an emergency, no one but Schneep is allowed in his office. As there are so many things to keep track of, and so many papers that could easily be misplaced, it is best not to touch, or even go inside the office, lest you want to throw the doctor off his game or have the doctor throw you off a cliff.

Despite these four unspoken yet very specific rules, Marvin and Jackie have learned one more this past month: despite the doctor’s arrogant, haughty, snappy, disgusting, even FERAL demeanour, he truly is a good person.

It just took a new ego to show them that.

March 30th, 2017. Schneep’s mail has been unceremoniously thrown onto the dining room table. Schneep’s hands, long and graceful, slide through the envelopes and fliers, organizing them into piles, from taxes and business inquiries to subscriptions and sales.

Jackie lazily eats his cereal, watching Schneep sort through the mail like a madman. Geez, just how popular is this guy?! It’s almost as wild as Jack’s mail. At least there’s more interesting stuff for Jack... drawings, letters of encouragement and thanks, even the rare crocheted or sculpted gift.

Schneep freezes when he comes across a particular letter, one with a cutesy pin cupcake logo. His eyes grow solemn as he picks it up and shakily opens it. Jackie cocks his head.

“Something wrong, doctor?” he asks lightly.

Schneep looks up. “Hm? Oh!” He sighs. “It’s from a baking class Sophia and I used to take together. Lisette had insisted I learn how to cook as well, so it wouldn’t always be her making the meals, and she figured it would be good bonding for me and Sophia. Soph loved those classes. We’d learn all sorts of fascinating recipes and bring the results home. They were fun, and very sweet.”

Jackie nods seriously. He knows he should leave it there, but something’s confusing him. “It’s been quite a few months since you stopped going. Why are they sending you stuff now?”

Schneep unfolds the letter. As he reads it, his eyes widen and a smile begins curling at his lips.

Somehow, that only makes more questions. “What…?”

“It’s not the company themself, it’s Chase! He was a friend from the classes! I haven’t spoken to him in forever! He’s such a lovely person, it’d be nice to see him again!” Schneep grabs his phone and hastily types in the number at the bottom of the letter. He squeals and runs off, like a teenager who just got a text from their crush.

The letter lies on the table, open for all to read. Jackie knows better than to pry into other people’s lives, but this letter is wide open, and it’s not like Schneep needs to know, so the superhero leans over and reads.

Hey Henrik,

This is probably weird to get, but I lost your phone number and I don’t know what your address is, so I asked the dudes at the baking class if I could send a letter to you via their services.

It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, and I thought I’d better check in and see how you’re doing, see how bachelor life is treating you. Stacy and the kids miss seeing you as well. I wanna talk to you again.

My cell is #1273-545-8903.

Hope to see you soon!

Chase Brody

Chase Brody. That sounds like an American to Jackie’s ears. He does seem like a good person, if Schneep’s reaction wasn’t enough. He must have been a friend for Schneep when the doctor went through his divorce.

The name itself sounds familiar, like a local celebrity or something. Jackie makes a mental note to look it up later. He leans back and finishes his cereal just as Schneep comes back, holding his phone out. Marvin finally emerges, his green hair resembling a rat’s nest, and no mask. Jackie takes pride in the fact that Marvin now feels comfortable enough to show his face in front of Schneep and Jackie.

“Well, change of plans, I won’t be able to come home in time for dinner with you guys,” Schneep announces. Jackie nods.

“Wait what? Why?” Marvin slurs, slumping down at the dining room table.

“I’m going to see Chase after my shift today. We agreed to meet in the park,” Schneep explains curtly, and leaves.

“Did I miss something?” Marvin asks, turning to Jackie. Jackie nods down to the letter. Marvin leans over to read, only for the letter to be snatched up by the doctor.

“Who said you could go through my stuff?!” Schneep snapped. He stormed off, letter clutched firmly in his hand. Marvin sneers at Jackie, who only shrugs and winks. The magician rolls his eyes, but he understands. A shrug and a wink means I’ll tell you later.

Schneep throws on his brown coat and grabs his bag. “Have a nice day, boys. If I don’t see you later tonight, sweet dreams and I’ll see you in the morning.” He flies out, coat flapping behind him.

“He’s gotta show me how he rocks an overcoat so well. I’m jealous of the way he holds himself. So professional,” Marvin remarks. He quickly turns to Jackie. “Spill the tea.”

“Schneep’s meeting an old friend from a baking class he used to take with his daughter,” Jackie says. “His name is Chase Brody. The name sounds so familiar to me, and I don’t know why.”

“Look it up on your phone,” Marvin suggests. Jackie does just that.

Immediately, Wikipedia comes to the egos’ rescue. Chase Brody, (born April 11th, 1988) is an American-Irish Youtuber who is best known for his Youtube channel, Bro Average. As of February 2017, his channel has over 20 million views and over 10 million subscribers.

“Oh yeah, the trickshot vlogger!” Jackie says. “I like watching his stuff, he’s a funny dude.”

Marvin nods. “He must have kids as well. He wouldn’t be taking classes if he didn’t.”

Jackie scrolls down to Personal Life. “‘Chase is married to Stacy Matthews, and they have three children as of 2017, two biological twins, and one recently adopted daughter.’” The selfie provided shows a man with fair skin and bright blue eyes standing next to a red-headed lady doing a duckface.

“Hm. Sounds like he’s living the good life,” Marvin says. “A well-paid job, a nice family, a happy life.”

Boy, is he wrong.

At 5 PM exactly, Schneep sits at the bench by the great oak tree, waiting for Chase. He wraps his blue and navy scarf tighter around his neck as a cool breeze whisks by. Despite what the weather people promised, Athlone is nowhere near warm, despite it being spring. He examines the park-goers who walk by, picking up on every accident that could occur.

Parents swinging their child up and down: a broken arm, arms could pull out of their sockets, or the child could fall on their head and get a concussion. Or worse, permanent brain injuries.

Kids climbing trees: Another chance to fall and hit their tiny heads and sustain brain damage, if not that, broken limbs and splinters.

Teenagers skateboarding: more broken bones and limbs, but at least SOME are smart enough to put pads and helmets on. Others have no chance of recovering fully from brain damage or concussions should they fall on their heads-

“Henrik!” Henrik snaps to life and looks around. A man wearing a puffy black jacket, torn jeans and a snapback with a pink skull on it runs over to him. Schneep stands up.

“Chase Brody! Wie geht es dir mein freund?” Schneep cries out in delight, holding his arms out. Chase happily throws himself into them.

“I’m doing as well as I can, at least. It’s so good to see your face,” Chase sighs. He nuzzles Henrik’s hair, taking in the sanitizer and mint smell he’s gotten used to. “I’ve missed you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Schneep says. “Come, sit down next to me! Tell me how things have been. How are Stacy and your kids? Has Chloe adjusted to the new timezone yet?” Chloe is Chase’s recently adopted daughter from China. Schneep’s last visit with the Brody’s involved meeting her.

Chase’s smile fades and he sits down next to Schneep. “Um…”

Schneep’s stomach sinks. “That’s never good. What happened? Who died?!”

“Calm down, Henrik!” Chase exclaims. “No one died! Everyone’s fine. Chloe’s adjusted quite nicely.”

“Then why do you look so sad?!” Schneep cries.

Chase fidgets with his jacket zipper, mumbling incomprehensibly. Henrik leans closer. “Didn’t catch that.”

“StacyandIaregettingadivorce,” Chase whispers. Schneep’s stomach flips and sinks.

“What?”

“Stacy and I are getting divorced,” Chase repeats, louder now. “She said she still loves me, but not quite in a… romantic way, I guess. She wants us to just be friends.”

“Well, at least she still wants to be on friendly terms, I guess!” Schneep says. “Still, I can’t believe it… you two were such a sweet couple… so in love…”

“There’s another reason why she wants a divorce,” Chase admits. Schneep’s eyes turn wide as saucers.

“She’s seeing someone. An old friend from high school. I’ve seen her texts,” Chase says. He scrunches up the end of his shirt, nose wrinkling. Schneep hears him sniff.

“I don’t know how long it’s gone on… and I know she didn’t mean to… but still…” Chase finally looks up, eyes tearing. “How could she do that? I would have been okay with it! Maybe. I don’t know!” Chase buries his face in his hands.

Schneep pats Chase’s shoulder gently. He can’t believe Stacy cheated! She and Chase were such a romantic couple! They seemed so happy! Why would Stacy throw that all away for some whore? “What a bitch…”

Chase suddenly whacks Schneep’s hand off, eyes fierce. “Don’t call her that! It’s not like that! At least she still wants me in her life! She’s not like Lisette!” An awkward silence fills the air.

Chase gasps. “Henrik, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it that way-”

“Oh!” Schneep cries. “It’s fine! It’s no big deal!” Yeah, that was a low blow, but he would rather Chase doesn’t end up like him: cranky, alienating, friendless, alone. He needs a friend more than ever.

“No it’s not, I just sunk really low! You must be furious-”

“I’m not, I promise!” He’s not, surprisingly. Is this growth?! What the fuck?!

“I need to control myself better. I’m a grownup, for fuck’s sake, I should know better…” Chase moans, burrowing his head in his hands again.

“Chase!” Schneep exclaims. “You mustn’t beat yourself up like that! You’re one of my very best friends, which isn’t saying much because I don’t have any, but still! You have to be one of the nicest people I know! You’re anything but a dick!”

“I feel like you’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Chase mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m not, I swear !” Schneep says.

“I’m sorry, Henrik, I really am,” Chase says.

“I forgive you,” Schneep says, and means it. “I’m serious.”

“I should go,” Chase decides, standing. Schneep gets up as well.

“What? No! I’m not mad!” he protests.

“It’s my turn to pick the kids up,” Chase snaps. “I’ll see you around, Henrik. Sorry I can’t stay long.” He briskly runs off.

Schneeplestein yells and kicks the bench. “FUCK! FUCK! AAAHHH!!!”

Other park visitors turn in confusion, watching the strange man kick the bench and scream.

Schneep freezes when he notices everyone staring at him. He storms back to his car, slams the door shut and continues his screaming.

Once Schneep has finished “releasing his anger” (Jackie’s words, not his) he “reflects on the situation” (also Jackie’s words). What could he do to make Chase feel better?

He stays in the car for an hour, letting the world pass by as he thinks. By the time the sun has set, he has an idea.

Jackie and Marvin glare at each other from across the hall. Sirius the cat has hidden, choosing not to get involved. The little pegs in the cribbage board are neck-in-neck, both pegs exactly 4 steps away from the end hole. The egos stare at their cards.

“Four,” Jackie announces, putting the card down.

“Fourteen,” Marvin says.

The door flies open and Schneep rushes in, hair windswept and out of breath. “Where’s Jack?!” he demands.

“Out in his universe,” Jackie responds. “Fifteen for two!” He puts down an ace.

“Sixteen for two!” Marvin slams the ace down, looking triumphant. Jackie flips him off.

“When will he visit?!” Schneep questions.

“When he wishes,” Jackie responds. “Twenty-five!”

“How can I contact him?!”

“Why are you so interested?!” Marvin asks. “Thirty-one, bitch!” He flips Jackie off.

“I have a request for him!” Schneep responds curtly.

“What kind?” Jackie asks.

“It’s for a friend,” Schneep brushes him off, heading to his lab.

“Chase Brody?” Marvin guesses. Jackie kicks him.

Schneep turns around. “What did you say?”

Marvin gulps. “You left your letter on the table for me to read. I was fast enough to catch the gist before you snatched it up. So how is Chase Brody?”

Schneep growls softly and walks back to the table. Marvin sits up with his head held high, bracing himself for the punishment. No matter what Schneep does, slugging, kicking, ruining his hair, the magician can take it. He’s been through worse.

To Marvin and Jackie’s surprise, Schneep pulls up a chair and sits down. The doctor takes a deep breath. “Chase Brody is divorcing his wife. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Jackie and Marvin nod in understanding. “That’s sad to hear,” Jackie remarks, solemnly.

“But how’s talking to Jack going to help?” Marvin queries.

“I want him to make a video for Chase,” Schneep says. “If this so-called community exists, I want to see them show their love for Chase! It’s the least he deserves!”

Marvin and Jackie catch each other’s gaze. Schneep glares at Jackie expectantly.

“Well? You’ve lived with Jack the longest. How do you contact him?!” Schneep demands.

“I have his number in case of emergencies, but I’ve never had a reason to call him! I don’t even know if he’s available,” Jackie explains.

“He has to be. What else does a man who plays video games for a living do?!” Schneep snaps, incredulous. “It’s not like he has to be places or anything!” He looms over Jackie, a desperate, pleading look in his eyes. Jackie nearly topples out of his chair.

“I guess I could give it a shot,” the superhero mumbles.

Schneep squeals in delight and wraps his arms tightly around Jackie in what Jackie assumes to be a hug. The superhero pats the doctor’s arms, taken aback by his strength.

After a few sickeningly sweet seconds, Marvin pipes up, “Uh, doc? I think Jackie needs to be able to breathe in order to call Jack.”

Sheepishly, Schneeplestein lets Jackie go. The superhero gulps in big gasps of air, before grabbing his phone and dialing Jack’s number.

A day later, Jack McLoughlin sits at the egos’ dining room table, chomping away on mashed potatoes and a juicy steak.

“My goodness, you never told me what a good chef you were, Schneep!” he sighs in ecstasy.

Schneep bows his head, face glowing red. Jackie raises an eyebrow. Schneep almost NEVER blushes when given a compliment. It’s strange to see the doctor act so shy and humble around someone, especially Jack. It feels like only yesterday Schneep was bombarding Jack with questions about where he came from and how the alternate universe worked. Since that day, Jack has quickly risen to become one of Schneep’s favourite people on the planet. Not that Jackie is jealous or anything…

“Just a little recipe I learned for my wife…” Schneep mutters, playing with the end of his lab coat. Across the table, Marvin snickers lightly, watching the doctor fumble for words. Finally, some entertainment!

“So, what was the call for?” Jack asks. “Just wanted to say hi?” His expression darkens. “Is it Anti? What did he do?!”

“It’s not Anti. We haven’t heard from him for a while!” Jackie says. Jack sighs in relief.

“I mean, I know I made that video for PAX and all but I just wanted to make sure,” Jack says.

“You made an Anti video for PAX?!” Marvin cries. “Why?”

“Because the fans would enjoy it! Also because I was running out of ideas for what to do for an opening,” Jack admits. “It just seemed like the right amount of fun and originality without being too over the top!”

“When is Anti not over the top?” Jackie scoffs. That earns a laugh from the others.

“Actually, it’s Schneep who has a question for you,” Marvin says.

Jack turns to Schneeplestein. Schneep’s smile disappears. He looks around the table, watching everyone’s gaze. He grins nervously at Jack.

“Could I ask you in private? This stuff… it is… personal.”

“Sure. Let’s go,” Jack says, standing up. Schneep follows after him.

In the upstairs hallway, Schneep spills everything. He explains who Chase is, what’s going on in his life, and how he believes making Chase an ego could help his situation.

“Make another ego? Oh god, I’m having enough trouble managing you all right now,” Jack admits.

“All you have to do is make one video. The fans can do the rest,” Schneep presses.

“How?”

“By showing their love for Chase! He’s a funny and sweet guy! Your fans would love him!”

“How will the community’s love help a man struggling with a divorce?” Jack questions.

“Their love will lift his spirits and he will feel more confident and happy! You said you noticed a difference in us after the community made content of us! If that is really true, then I want to see them show their love for Chase. It’s the least he deserves!”

Jack is silent, contemplating the pros and cons. Finally, he sighs and says, “Can you show me what he usually does?”

Schneep types something into his phone. He logs onto Youtube and types a channel name into the search bar. Bro Average.

“Bro Average? Is that a parody of Dude Perfect?” Jack asks, chuckling.

“Well, it’s because there’s only one person performing every stunt, and because it’s less... professional than the other channel,” Schneep explains. “For example-”

The video shows Chase at a park, holding a Nerf gun and wearing a goofy grin. “Sup, guys! I’m Chase, and welcome to Bro Average!” He shoots a nerf dart off-screen, only for it to crash into something, invoking a cat screech. Chase pretends to be startled.

It flashes forward to Chase in a tree. “This one’s called, ‘Multitasking’!” He hangs off a branch while trying to knock over six cups stacked up on each other with darts. Jack can’t stop snickering at Chase’s antics, as he wobbles and threatens to lose his balance. Chase yelps and squeals, and a few times, swearing can be heard, though it’s censored by loud beeps. Finally, Chase hits his target, just as the branch snaps. Chase whoops with glee as he crashes onto the ground, the branch smacking into his head. His cameraman runs over to him, worried, but Chase is rolling on the ground in laughter as tears run down his face.

“He is not nearly as good as the professionals, but his humour and authenticness bring in the fans,” Schneep says, smiling.

“He sounds like a blast!” Jack takes the phone and begins to skim through Chase’s videos. “I bet I could make something work! I’ll borrow an office space, bring a couple friends and film a few shots! Can’t be that hard!”

“So you will do it?!” Schneep cries.

“Absolutely! Give me a couple days and it will be ready!”

Schneep cheers and engulfs Jack in a bear hug. Jack laughs and pats his friend’s back. It’s nice to see the doctor open up at last to his new roommates and creator, and so quickly, as well. Jack decides Schneep can be rewarded for his good nature by granting his wish and helping out a new friend.

A few weeks pass. Schneeplestein schedules more visits with Chase. The two fathers laugh and chat, learning more about each other and discussing whatever they please without the worry of kids hearing. Schneep feels his spirits lift whenever he sees Chase’s snapback and hears his cheerful voice.

In the night, a familiar sensation returns to the egos’ dreams. Sounds of a Nerf gun, kids laughing and on the rare occasion, a man crying fills the egos’ heads as they sleep. Schneep feels his heart break when he hears Chase’s cries. He hopes this video will help Chase. It has to.

April 11th, 2017. The egos are gathered around the dining room table, Jack’s Youtube account open on his laptop.

Jack idly sits at the centre, waiting for Schneep to arrive with Chase. Marvin and Jackie play another round of cribbage, and this time Jackie seems to be way ahead on the board, much to the magician’s dismay.

“I’m going to be skunked! I hate this game so fucking much!” Marvin gripes, as he receives two points for his math efforts.

Jackie snickers as he counts his cards. “This takes both luck and skill. You’re a fast learner, Marv. I’m sure you’ll pull through soon.”

“Not soon enough,” grumbles Marvin as Jackie moves his peg 16 points.

The door opens and Schneep walks in with Chase Brody right behind him. Compared to the laughing man with the warm aura in Google Images, this Chase looks cold and kind of grumpy.

“Chase, this is Jack McLoughlin, our ‘creator’ and a wonderful man,” Schneep introduces. Jack awkwardly holds his hand out for a shake. Even though he’s seen versions of himself several times this past year, it’s still rather unnerving to be given death stares by himself but with yellow hair, snapback and a fair share of freckles.

“Jack, this is Chase Brody, your newest ego and the face of Bro Average!” Schneep continues. Chase raises an eyebrow.

“Ego? Like alter ego?” Chase turns to the others, and realizes that they share the same hair and face. “Oh... my... dog. Am I a fictional character?! Is this a character intervention with the narrator?! Whatever happened, I promise, I didn’t do it! Sally encouraged me to eat the worm!” Chase kneels before Jack, cowering and whimpering.

Jack chuckles nervously. “Relax, Chase! Technically, you are a fictional character-” Chase shrieks in alarm.

“But only in another universe. You’re very much a real person in this one,” Schneep concludes, helping Chase up by the arm. Chase shakes the doctor off and Schneep tries his best to hide his hurt.

“To put it simply, some of the videos on my channel don’t exist in this universe. This is because they’re about you… egos,” Jack recites. “You’re the most recent ego, however, your video and beginnings are a bit different because I already had some course material to go off of.”

Jack clicks play on the video. Chase sits down and gasps as Jack-as-Chase flies around the office, performing trickshots and screaming like a toddler who drank too much apple juice. Is… is this him?! The accuracy! Holy shit! They even got his bloopers right! Creepy!!! Is he being stalked?!

Schneep watches from afar, fidgeting with his lab coat. Chase hasn’t moved once since the video started. He doesn’t look angry… but at the same time, he doesn’t seem to be enjoying his Power Hour. Truth be told, it’s not like the Doctor particularly likes his Power Hour either. Jack didn’t have to go and mention his cheating wife… or the fact that Peter did die at one point… Nonetheless, Chase is just sitting there, with wide eyes.

Jack, on the other hand, is already regretting what he did. Perhaps he emphasized too much on the “Not-As-Professional-Or-Successful” part. Maybe he made Chase too goofy or not as three-dimensional as he could have. The Youtuber catches a glimpse of the screen. Oh no. It’s the part with-

“Stacy, please, I know, I’m trying to get all the shots, look, just please don’t take the kids!” Jack-as-Chase pleads. Schneep and Jack-in-the-flesh turn white as a ghost. Chase frowns.

“This one’s called, ‘I’m Staying At My Sister’s This Weekend’!” Jack-as-Chase announces. It flashes back to him on the phone. “Well, I don’t care what your sister says! Just please! At least let me see them on the weekend still!”

Jack scratched his neck nervously and teethed on his knuckles, face beet red. Chase looks horrified. Schneep looks just as worried. Marvin and Jackie awkwardly stand up to leave.

Chase pauses the video just as Jack-as-Chase sobs. He takes a deep breath and turns to face his “creator”. “So… are you the reason my wife and I are getting a divorce?”

Jack gapes, taken aback by Chase’s accusation. He doesn’t want to throw Schneep under the bus, but at the same time, Chase wasn’t exactly “created” like the others-

“Not exactly!” Schneep interferes. “It… it was my idea. I thought if I got Jack to make a tribute video in honour of you, it would help you!”

“Help me?!” Chase laughs, a harsh and cold sound compared to his whoops and chuckles in his videos. “How?! By running my wife’s name through the dirt?!” Jack flinches.

“Fair enough,” Schneep says with a groan. “I should have been more specific when I said divorce and kids.”

“You told-?!”

“I thought if you knew you had a big name on your side you’d feel better! It was supposed to be a little treat!” Schneep counters.

“Oh, what am I, a little pity party to you?” Chase snaps. “My divorce was private information, Schneep. Why else did you think I wanted to talk to you alone?! Now the whole world knows and Stacy’s going to be treated horribly because of you shits-”

“Not the whole world!” Schneep exclaims. “Just… all… of Jack’s world.”

“Shut up,” Chase hisses. “I don’t care that there’s more than one universe. So be it. What I care about is the fact that you betrayed my trust and now people are going to treat Stacy like she was a freaking bitch. This may come as a surprise to both you and Jack, but not all women are cheating whores like Lisette, asshole!”

SMACK. Chase cries out. The egos and Jack huddle together. Schneep’s breathing slows as he registers the sting in his hand and Chase rubbing his red cheek.

Schneep takes a deep breath, and in chilling, low, icy words, he snarls, “Don’t ever say her name again.”

Chase recovers from the slap and storms over to the door. “Whatever. You know what?! Stay away from me and whatever’s left of my family. I don’t care if I’m a part of your ‘creator’s’ story or whatever, I JUST WANT YOU OUT OF MY LIFE.” Chase grabs his coat and slams the door shut with a loud BANG. Schneep remains at the dining room, breathing unsteadily, vision somewhat blurry.

“Doctor? Are you alright?” Jackie whispers, reaching a hand out.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Schneep runs upstairs to his room and slams the door. Muffled sobs soon echo down the hallway.

Jack’s heart breaks in two. He really thought this video was a good idea. Somehow, all it brought was pain. He sighs defeatedly and slumps down at the table. Marvin closes the laptop.

“Shit… that was awful…”

“And it was supposed to be Chase’s birthday present!” Jack moans. “Ahhhhh, I feel like an asshole… I shouldn’t have been so mean…”

“It’s not your fault…” Jackie soothes. “You made an assumption and played it with satire. Schneep shares some of the blame as well. He should have kept that part quiet.”

“And I should have kept that out of the video…” Jack sighs. “Now Chase feels even worse about the divorce and he wants nothing to do with us…”

Jackie and Marvin sit down beside Jack and rub his back. Jack sighs again and rests his head on the table.

Upstairs, Schneep screams into his pillow, tears finally flowing. He hates himself and Chase and everything that’s happened. That’s what he gets for helping a friend. Ungrateful bastard-

No. Schneep should have known better! That was private information, he had no right poking his nose in and telling everyone. Well, it was just one person, but still! Now Chase never wants to speak to him again and he’s lost the only friend he’s had in a while and everything sucks and he just wants to curl up and die. Schneep pulls his hair and screams again. He can’t sleep, but at the same time, he can’t do anything else. So he remains in bed, crying and thinking. Eventually, long into the night, he falls asleep, cheeks wet and eyes sore.

Schneep wakes up feeling like absolute shit. His cheeks are somewhat sticky and damp. He must have been crying in his sleep. His stomach feels awful. But it’s a work day, so he gets out of bed.

Schneep stumbles into his ensuite bathroom and splashes cold water on his face. He shudders when he sees his reflection. Grey skin, messy hair, red eyes. He doesn’t smell so good either. Sighing sadly, Schneep throws off his clothes and turns on the shower faucet.

When he hops out of the shower, he puts on his scrubs and grabs his spare labcoat. He trudges downstairs, where Marvin is waiting with fluffy chocolate-chip pancakes on the table.

“Morning, doc,” Marvin greets cheerfully. His smile fades when he sees Schneep’s ashen face. “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” Schneep replies hoarsely.

“I made you some coffee,” Marvin continues. “I know you like it.”

Schneep grunts softly and pours himself a large cup. As he drinks he heads to the hook of keys by the front door, only to find-

“Where are my keys?” Schneep asks, staring at the space where his car keys used to hang.

“I saw Sirius knock them off earlier,” Marvin replies, flipping through the nearest magazine. “I tried to catch her, but she’s so fast.”

“Where is she right now?” Schneep inquires, trying to sound as calm as possible.

“Beats me. I can’t control her,” Marvin says calmly.

Schneep growls and pounds on the table. Marvin jumps slightly, but quickly recovers and goes back to his reading.

“This isn’t funny, Marvin. I need to get to work!” Schneep snaps. “I’m already falling behind schedule.”

Marvin snorts, looking up from the magazine. “You think you’re fit to go to work? Your face is bright pink, you’ve got large shadows under your eyes and I heard you crying for who knows how many hours last night.”

“I have allergies! They were just acting up!” Schneep snaps.

“Oh, really? Allergies? That’s rich coming from the man who claims to have ‘the strongest immune system in the world’!” Marvin scoffs.

“Even the strongest immune systems have off days, okay?!”

“That doesn’t even make any sense! Henrik, are you even hearing yourself?!”

Schneep fights back more tears. “Marvin, please, tell me where the keys are! I can’t be late for work!”

“And you won’t be! I called the hospital and asked them to give you a day off!” Marvin says.

Schneep almost drops his mug. “You… you did what?!”

“I told them it was a family emergency,” Marvin admits. “And that we didn’t know how long it would be. They understood, told me to tell you to take as many days off as you need.”

“Which is none,” Schneep scowls. “I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes, I am!”

“Henrik, you said you didn’t want Chase to go through his divorce alone and friendless, like you. You’re going through a tough time right now. The last thing you need is to be alone.”

Schneep gapes at the magician, tears threatening to fall. Marvin stares back, heart thumping loudly. He prays he didn’t say the wrong thing. He hopes this works.

Maybe it’s because he didn't get enough sleep, or maybe it’s because he’s never had anyone be so concerned for his well-being that they screwed up his schedule, but Henrik finally lets his anguish go, and collapses, bawling like a little baby. Marvin gets down from his seat and wraps his arms around the doctor, soothing him and singing softly.

Jackie finally emerges from the bathroom, and joins the cuddle pile in the kitchen. As Henrik finally slumps completely into Marvin’s arms, he and the superhero high-five and move the sleeping doctor into the living room for a day of Netflix and cuddles.

Five days pass. Henrik sits at his desk, tapping his pen. In front of him is the start of a letter, with only the words “Dear Chase,” written on it. He needs to apologize to Chase, but just doing it by text seems insensitive. So written letter it is! Now… where to start…

Dear Chase,

I’m sorry. What I did was wrong and there’s no way to excuse my behaviour. I really believed I was doing the right thing by telling Jack, but I should have known better than to air dirty laundry.

The doctor shakes his head and crumples up the page. He can do better than that. Now to start over-

His phone begins playing the familiar sound of a monitor beeping. He really needs to change his ringtone. It’s too painful to hear after all the dead patients that came with it.

Henrik freezes when he notices the name. Chase. Why is he calling? Heart thumping and hands shaking, Henrik picks up the phone.

“Hello? Chase?”

“H-hi, d-doc…” Chase answers in a raspy whisper. The sound of sniffling is not lost on Henrik.

“Chase? Are you okay?”

“Not really…” Another sniffle. “But I will be… soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry for all the shit I said… It was wrong of me to bring up your own divorce… I-I shouldn’t have been so harsh…”

“No, Chase, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have brought up your divorce in the first place! I thought I was doing good by telling Jack, but he clearly misinterpreted it. I shouldn’t have mentioned it…”

“It’s alright… you were just trying to make me feel bet-better… I just overreacted… I overreact to eve-everything… I’m such a bay-baby.” Chase sounds like he’s holding back tears.

“No you’re not. You had every right to be mad… I’m sorry for slapping you. How’s your cheek?”

Schneep hears Chase chuckle softly. “It’s fine… It doesn’t hurt as much as other injuries…” The laugh turns into a sob.

“Other injuries?! What do you mean?!” Henrik demands. “Chase, you’re worrying me!”

“I’m sorry… I can’t seem to do anything right… All I do is upset people…” Chase is outright crying now.

“Chase, please tell me where you are,” Henrik pleads, getting up. “I need to make sure you’re okay!”

“No… I don’t think you’ll want to see this…” Chase mumbles. He takes a deep but shuddery breath. “I have to go. Goodbye, Henrik.”

“Chase?! CHASE?!” Henrik screams. The phone line goes dead. Henrik yelps and quickly rushes into his contacts. He finds Stacy’s name and calls her.

She answers on the first ring. “Henrik? It’s been so long! How are you?”

“Where is Chase right now?”

“What?”

“Where is he living?”

“What’s going on? What did he say to you? Is he okay?”

“Call 999. I don’t believe so.”

Henrik hangs up and dashes out of his office, up the stairs and to the front door, where he grabs his keys and coat. Marvin and Jackie sit at the kitchen island, both on their phones.

“Henrik? What’s going on?”

“I have to go to the hospital. I’ll be back,” Henrik answers curtly. He throws on his coat and leaves.

Henrik runs into the hospital and quickly signs himself in. A nurse comes by and squeaks in surprise when she sees him.

“Dr. Schneeplestein? What are you doing here? Isn’t today your day off?”

“Time is broken, Cass,” Dr. Schneeplestein replies. He dashes off to the emergency room. Cass quickens her pace, trying her best to catch up to him.

“Have there been any emergencies yet?” Schneep demands.

“I think an ambulance is arriving soon-” Cass begins.

“Who’s the patient?” Schneep asks.

“A man attempted suicide-” Cass starts.

“I’ll treat him,” Schneep announces.

The doors open and medics rush in, driving a man on a gurney. Schneep pales when he sees red. The good doctor swallows his fear and tears. Now is not the time to be a baby. He’s not called the good doctor for nothing. Time to save Chase’s life.

Hours later, five nurses come in to find Dr. Schneeplestein exhaustedly sobbing against the wall, shoulders convulsing as he cries into his hands. On the gurney lies a man with yellow hair poking out of a large bandage wrapped around his head. The monitor beeps rhythmically, and the man’s chest rises and falls slowly. So why is the doctor crying?

Three nurses wheel Chase out while the other two bend down next to Schneep. One nurse, Kate, tentatively places a hand on his shoulder. He jumps in shock.

“Schneeplestein? Are you alright?” Kate asks.

Schneep smiles shakily. “He’ll live…” He shivers and whimpers. “Oh god… so much could have happened… So much could have gone wrong… I thought I lost him a few times...” the doctor breaks off with another sob.

“Why don’t you head home? Today is your day off,” Kate suggests.

“In a little while… I need to speak to the patient first…” Schneep replies in a raspy voice. Kate nods. She and the other nurse, Matt, help the doctor up. His legs wobble and almost give out. Schneep takes a deep breath and slowly makes his way out of the operating room and into his office.

An hour later, Henrik reappears, wearing his comfy labcoat and drinking some tea, a rarity considering how much the doctor prefers coffee. But he needs to relax, and so Matt whipped up a nice cup of tea.

Henrik pulls up a chair and sets his cup down. He looks down at the sleeping man, face as white as the bandage wrapped around his head. Chase has never looked more fragile and vulnerable. His cheeks are sunken and there are large bags under his eyes.

Henrik rubs his face. Truthfully, he’s just as tired. He looks up at the clock. 1:11 am. God, he was in the operating room for quite a while. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be as stressed as he was today. He leans back and closes his eyes. Maybe he can get a quick nap before-

“Dr. Schneeplestein?” He opens his eyes and looks up. His stomach flips when he notices a woman with red hair that falls in waves down her shoulders. Her soft brown eyes are full of compassion and worry. Stacy Brody. Or Stacy Matthews, to be more precise.

“Stacy…” Henrik mumbles. “What… I mean, I’m sorry. I understand this must be a lot for you.”

“I can’t believe it… I mean, I knew about his depression, I just didn’t think it would get this bad,” Stacy says, voice soft and sad.

Henrik nods. “Yes. One can’t help but wonder what the breaking point was.”

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Stacy whispers hoarsely, staring down at her ex-husband’s skinny frame. “I did cheat on him. I told him I wanted a divorce after he found out… I wonder what would have happened if I told him straight up about Delilah… I wonder how he would have reacted…”

Henrik is speechless. He can’t really say it isn’t her fault, but at the same time, it wasn’t as if she could straight up tell him. There really was no way of telling how he would have reacted. Henrik groans and rubs his eyes again. He can’t think straight.

His mind flickers back to the video, and his stomach sinks. Did that video… influence his decision? Should he tell her about it? Would she be mad? He takes a deep breath.

“I mentioned your divorce to another friend,” he finally says. “Said friend made a video that I think mocked Chase more than flattered him. I thought it would help… but it didn’t. Only made him even more upset.”

“A video? Was this the video that ‘Jack’ made?” Stacy asks. Henrik opens his eyes, horrified. How long has she known?! Oh god, she must despise him! Henrik whirls around to face her, face riddled with guilt.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he’d take it in that direction- It was a shitty idea, I was so invasive and it was absolutely despicable of me and-”

“Hey, calm down, it’s okay! It was an honest mistake!” Stacy responds calmly. “Chase told me about it. He felt awful and he was so pissed with you guys. I will admit I was a bit peeved at first, but Chase said he yelled at you and broke off his friendship with you, so I figured it was punishment enough.”

“He also brought up my wife,” Henrik says. “So I punched him.”

Stacy nods. “Ah, that’s where the bruise came from.”

Henrik cringes. Damn, did he actually hit Chase that hard? He really is a dick. He sighs and stands up. “You are more than welcome to punch me. I deserve it. I never should have brought up the divorce. It was hateful of me, really.”

Stacy shakes her head. “Oh no, I couldn’t! You saved Chase from the brink of death. It’d be so insensitive of me!”

“I insist.” Henrik holds his head up. Stacy reluctantly stands up, and raises an open palm.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaks.

“It’s fine, I can handle it,” Henrik says.

Stacy takes a deep breath… and punches him. Henrik falls back into the chair from the force. Stacy cringes.

“You… have a very strong punch,” Henrik remarks, holding his throbbing cheek. He holds a finger up when he sees her mouth move. “Don’t apologize. You were right to do so.”

“I took karate as a kid,” Stacy boasts. “I won a black belt at age five.”

“Good for you! To be honest, it wasn’t nearly as hard as my wife’s,” Henrik admits.

“Well, at least I got my ‘revenge’- wait, what?!” Stacy does a double take. “Lisette used to punch you?!”

“She only did it once,” Henrik quickly adds. “After I called her a whore.”

“Oh. That explains a lot,” Stacy deadpans.

“I deserved that as well,” Henrik says. “I just wish she hadn’t moved so far away… I wonder how the girls are doing...”

“Have your children contacted you?” Stacy lightly presses.

“I’ve tried to contact them,” Henrik says. “I don’t think Lisette lets them write or call me.”

“Then Lisette really is an ass,” Stacy explodes. “What if they do want to talk to you? She can’t hide them from you just because she doesn’t like you.”

“That doesn’t seem to stop her. I keep my phone nearby in case Sophia calls when her mother isn’t around.” Henrik pats his pocket. “Or maybe Rick will let her. He’s quite nice and he’s good with kids, which is why I was quite surprised when he turned out to be-”

“A homewrecker?” Stacy suggests. Henrik glares at her, scandalized, but she can tell he’s trying to suppress a smile.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, snickering.

“I was gonna say an ass, but that’s better,” he says. Stacy bursts out laughing, but it quickly fades when she notices Chase. She clears her throat.

“I’m going to take the kids away for a while,” she reveals. “At least until he’s emotionally stable to look after the kids.”

“You know Chase would never let his depression get in the way of being a good father,” Henrik protests.

“I know. I just feel he needs a break from it all,” Stacy says. “Mostly family life, me and Delilah in particular. Maybe she and I could go to my cottage in Scotland. We can stay there until he feels ready to share custody once more. He can’t be alone, though. We know what will happen if he does. He can’t go back home either. We still need to wash out the blood and dispose of any guns he might have. Of course I mean the real guns, but he might not want his Nerf toys either. He needs to be with someone , and that can’t be me. I just don’t know anyone he could stay with who lives in Athlone. We only just moved here.”

Henrik lights up. Holy shit. It’s like destiny! This is the perfect opportunity! “He can move in with us. He’s already an ego. He’d love it there. Sure it’s a bit chaotic, but I think he’d love it!”

Stacy raises an eyebrow. “What sort of chaotic?” she questions.

“The local superhero likes to crash there, we have a magician who INSISTS on using us for test subjects for his latest tricks, and me, the ‘feral doctor’,” Henrik lists off. “Come to think of it, I’m actually the voice of reason.”

Stacy tries her best to hide a shudder. “I feel a little worried about his safety. And no offense, but it’s a bit concerning that you’re the voice of reason in that house.”

Henrik scoffs in mock insult and shoves her gently. “Oh screw you! To be honest, Jackie is actually the smart one. I’m the one who pays the taxes and keeps a roof over their head. They’re the ones who overstayed their visit.”

Stacy rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. She looks more relaxed than when she walked in. She stands up.

“I think it’s time I left. Good luck, Chase. I wish you all the best with your recovery.” Stacy leans over and gently kisses Chase’s cheek before turning to Henrik and holding her hand out. Henrik returns it and gives it a small squeeze, only to be pulled in for a hug. He gasps in surprise.

“Thank you Henrik,” she whispers. Henrik nods and returns the hug, holding her tightly until she signals to let go. Stacy picks up her bag and leaves.

Henrik sits back down and takes out his cellphone to call the egos. Jackie picks up after the first ring.

“Henrik? Are you okay?”

“I want you to clean the house and make some hot chocolate. We’ve got a new roommate coming to stay with us!” Henrik announces.

“Is it Chase? Is that who we’re taking in?” Jackie asks.

“Yes. I want everything to be perfect, so go! Get cleaning!” the doctor commands.

“Need us to pick you up?” Marvin suggests.

“I can drive just fine! See you soon!” Henrik hangs up just as Chase begins to stir. The doctor watches him apprehensively. He hasn’t seen Chase since the argument. How will he react?

Chase groggily opens his eyes. He can see a bright light shining down on him and closes his eyes. “Where… where am I?”

He slowly attempts to sit up. A soft pair of hands gently help him sit up and rub his back.

Chase blinks, trying to clear his vision. The blurry blue shape slowly comes into view… Henrik! The good doctor sits beside him with an anxious expression on his face.

Chase wracks his memory to try to remember what had happened. He can feel a heavy fabric wrapped around his head. He lifts a hand to better investigate… oh.

Henrik’s heart breaks when he sees Chase drop his hand, expression forlorn. Here we go, he thinks.

“Chase?” Chase looks up. “Before you say anything, know that you have every right to be mad at me and Jack. What we did was despicable and absolutely awful. You don’t have to forgive us, and I completely understand if you never do. But you can’t be alone right now. You’re going through a really tough time, and the last thing you need to be is alone. I don’t know if you’ll accept it, but we have an extra room at home that would be a perfect spot for you to stay while you recover. I know you might not want to talk to me, but Jackie and Marvin are living with me, and they will ensure your time there will be as comfortable as possible. It’s fine if you don’t want to go, but just know that we will always be there when you need a place to stay.”

Chase is silent, simply gazing at Henrik with unshed tears. Finally, he throws his arms around Henrik’s neck. Henrik startles, but returns the hug.

“Is that a yes?” Henrik mumbles. Chase nods. Henrik sighs in relief and squeezes Chase tighter. Now all he has to do is hope Jackie and Marvin have the house ready by the time he returns.

Henrik parks the car in the driveway and turns to Chase. The vlogger fidgets with his t-shirt. Henrik puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Just warning you now, while Jackie and Marvin have good hearts and intentions, they can be little shits and there’s a good chance the house will still be a mess when we get back in. Good luck.”

Chase whimpers in fear. Henrik nods solemnly. “My thoughts exactly.”

The fathers unload the car and walk up to the front steps. Henrik takes a deep breath and opens the door.

“FIFTEEN FUCKING POINTS! I WIN AGAIN MOTHERFUCKER!” Jackie screeches. Marvin roars in anger and tosses a pillow at Jackie, who backhands it. The pillow soars across the house and slams into Henrik, who grunts in alarm and falls backward. Chase shrieks in alarm, gaping at his fallen friend.

Marvin and Jackie turn around, bright blue eyes glaring into Chase. Marvin’s eye twitches sporadically and Jackie smiles like a madman. Chase nervously waves. Marvin clears his throat and forces a sleep-deprived smile.

“Howdy, Chase!”

#attempted suicide tw #suicidal ideation tw #blood mention tw #extreme distress tw #apparently i can write #jacksepticeye #dr. schneeplestein #chase brody #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #writersofjack #writers of jack

48 notes · View notes

emsylcatac · 5 years

Text

(Continuation of the Marichat emojis story 😂🥺😭😗😞)

Part 1 · Part 2 · Part 3

Thank you again @chatnoirinette for beta-reading this one! Since lots of people liked the first part, I felt like I had to make sure this one would be satisfying enough haha and your comments really helped! ♥

Read the first part before reading this one ;) (contrary to the 1st part, this one isn’t part of an emoji story at all.)

_________________

Adrien walked through the still-crowded streets of Paris, the gentle wind ruffling his hair and prickling at his skin. It was still quite early in the evening. People around were gathered in cafés and restaurants, discussing and laughing loudly. Some children were chasing each other, screaming and giggling. A couple was walking hand in hand, stealing kisses and whispering sweet nothings. Groups of students were skateboarding; others were talking about which bar they should go to next.

Adrien didn’t pay attention to any of them. He was simply focused on moving, further and further away from the noise, further and further away from them, further and further away from himself. Just like he had been doing for the past two years.

To say Adrien had been shocked at discovering his father and Nathalie were the ones behind the masks of Paris’ most infamous supervillain terrorists was an understatement. And yet he couldn’t help but think that he shouldn’t have been surprised. That he should have known. His father had only been slipping away from him more and more with time; Adrien had always thought that he hadn’t yet come to terms with his mother’s disappearance. In a way, it had been the truth. He still wished he had been more prepared anyway. He had just been there, young and naive, forgiving and forgiving and forgiving again all of his father’s absences and mistakes.

And it was ironic, wasn’t it? He, the so-called ‘superhero’ Chat Noir, Ladybug’s most trusted partner, just so happened to be the son of their enemy. And he. Had never. Noticed.

He hated himself for that. He hated how stupid and naive and oblivious he had been for missing all the signs. Stupid boy with stupid superpowers and stupid dreams and stupid— stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Adrien turned around a corner in a much emptier and calmer street, quickening his pace. He remembered the first few months after the fight. How the people had reacted towards Adrien—the shock, the pitiful glances, and then the blame and the hate. If someone should have realised something, surely it must have been the ‘golden son.’ How could he not, living under the same roof? What proof was there that he hadn’t worked with his father? Some of the media and his former friends were still doubting him. And really, how could he defend himself when he had been absent during every attack so he could secretly fight...those very attacks? It had been hard to find an alibi.

And then... then, there was how people had reacted towards Chat Noir. He had been, much like Ladybug, acclaimed. Thanked again and again and again. The news of him almost dying during the fight had quickly spread—he had made it there. He was a true hero. The media and the citizens had praised him for weeks and weeks to months. And it slowly drove him insane.

Adrien’s hands curled into fists inside of his pockets as he turned off down the street. How fickle they were all being. How dare they put all the blame on him while giving him all the credit at the same time? How could they spit on him while glorifying him? It shouldn’t—it wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair. And yet...

He felt ashamed. He couldn’t bear transforming anymore to hear people cheering his name, not knowing they would all be booing it the second the magic faded. So after trying to juggle through it all the first few months, he had to put a stop to it. He told Ladybug to give him time—he hoped she would understand. He couldn’t—he wasn’t ready to show her who he was. He didn’t want to see the pity he was sure to find in her eyes. He wasn’t strong enough for that. ‘And she deserves better,’ a treacherous voice was whispering in his head.

Adrien finally saw his apartment block at the end of the street and found himself slowing down. Reminiscing this period of his life was putting a weight on his feet and he felt his heart getting heavier with each step. During those first months, he hadn’t had the time to really think about everything that had happened; there had been too much going on. It had been hard, but his friends had been there. They had supported him. Well, those who believed him had, anyway. But he had never been able to tell them the whole truth. His father had tried to kill him and he—they couldn’t know nor understand why he was feeling as bad as he was. But they were there.

Until.. until life slowly got back to normal. They were still present, but not as much. Because daily life had caught up with them, as it should. Except Adrien’s had stopped. Everything was turning fast, so fast around him and he was just...here, frozen in time. How could they all be happy when nothing was right?

He arrived at his place and pushed the door open before climbing the seven stairs leading to his apartment. It was always so long to go up all the steps, but some days it felt longer than others; today was one of those days. Maybe it was just because he felt tired— tired of feeling too much and feeling nothing all the time; of trying and trying and failing to keep up with life. No matter how hard he worked to climb out of the hole he was in, he always found himself back at the bottom. He sighed. Grieving was a long process. When he told Ladybug to give him time, he thought it would take him a few months at most. Wrong. After the endless circle of pain came the numbness. He was devoid of feelings—happiness, sadness, joy, pain...his emotions were passing over him, but he didn’t actually feel or experience them. It was a weird sensation. And not a nice one at that.

It’s not that he hadn’t missed Ladybug during those two years; he just hadn’t felt like he was missing her. Or anyone else, for that matter. And he wasn’t feeling ready to bear the mantle of Chat Noir just yet. So he kept postponing the day he would come back to her. Later, he was telling himself. Later. Later. Later...

Adrien fumbled with his keys before opening the door to his flat. Once he was in, he dropped his coat on the sofa before staring blankly straight ahead, eyes unfocused. Seeing his younger self had been...unexpected, to say the least. A weird out-of-body experience of sorts. He had immediately fled to Alya and Nino’s room to avoid saying something he shouldn’t. And because it was like he had...forgotten, somehow, that he had once been Chat Noir. He knew it. He had just decided to ignore it. But then all his friends came in and it had felt like too much. And he had decided to walk back home.

He couldn’t remember how many times he had insulted this boy for being that much of an idiot. But seeing him like that, so full of joy and curiosity and wonder, ready to take on the world, while Adrien knew he was dealing with so many issues in his life that no one even suspected, he just realised that—

“I was a kid,” Adrien whispered, unmoving. “Oh my god, I was just a kid.” He slowly clutched his face and let his tears fall for the first time in a year.

Sobs started to rack his body, and he let himself fall on his sofa, all his feelings finally crashing down on him. And that was it—how could he put the actions of a deranged adult on the shoulders of a child?

Plagg hovered silently above him, letting him cry quietly but offering support with his presence.

After a little while, he spoke softly:

“I know. That’s what I’ve always told you. I’m glad you’re able to see it too now.”

Adrien cried harder at his words.

“You’re very brave, you know...it doesn’t change much for you to hear, but I am proud of you. I have always been,” Plagg whispered.

“Thank you, Plagg,” he answered between sobs. “That... means a lot.”

He continued to cry a few minutes while Plagg sat on his shoulder, patting his cheek.

He finally spoke after he had calmed down. “I...I must see Ladybug. I owe her that and...and I miss her. But I don’t feel like transforming...not just yet,” he said, wiping tears away from his face.

“Take your time,” Plagg told him. “You’ve been through a lot tonight.”

Adrien chuckled sadly. “I just saw myself, it’s not...I wouldn’t call that ‘a lot,’ you know.”

“You realised a lot. And I’m glad to see you crying for once. You needed it.”

Adrien smiled painfully. “I guess I did.”

They both kept silent a few more minutes, letting all the emotions of the evening sink in.

Adrien was about to stand up when a loud bang on his window stopped him in his tracks. He raised his eyes to it, wondering what could possibly make such a sound and—

—came face to face with a frantic-looking Ladybug, who was making wide gestures and bouncing up and down in place at the sight of him. She had tears in her eyes.

Adrien approached his window with wide, incredulous eyes. He had barely opened it when she stumbled in his arms, gripping him as tightly as she could and whispering between sobs...

“Chat— Chaton. Oh my god, Kitty. It is you. It’s you, it’s you, it’s you.”

_________________

Okay, so as you might have seen at the top of this post, I’ve decided to make it not a 2 parts story but a 3 parts one! I hope you liked this one and are ready for the finale one :) again, thank you so much for your interest on this little fic where I just wanted to try my hand at angst AND at writing ♥ and thank you for all the nice comments I received!! It means a lot!

People who asked to be tagged or who asked for a 2nd part, here you are: @momabells, @mrs-berry, @taora93, @paintedbirdsong, @whimsicallyconfusedforlife, @kpohe8, @kasienda, @aplayfulplatypus, @amychi2000, @magnitude101999, @mochegato, @iridescenceoflove, @katieykat513, @mandlien, @bowser14456, @marikittynoir

#ml fanfic #adrien #ladrien #marichat #marinette #chat noir #ladybug #this is a continuation of an #emoji ml story #myshitwriting

268 notes · View notes

pretendrocketships · 4 years

Text

To Be So Lonely

Part 1: Fine Line

A/N: 5.7k overload of angst. I’m so sorry. song pairings while you read.

About: Part Two of Fine Line. You’re juggling your heart, your boyfriend’s, and Shawn’s. And one ball has to drop.

Song: To Be So Lonely by Harry Styles

Two weeks ago ago. No one talked about it. No one knew. You stayed quiet, and so did he. Charlie kissed you like nothing was wrong. Brian opened your beers like nothing happened, and then there was Shawn. Shawn walked around, wrote music, and smiled politely like he never walked down into that basement in the first place. “Charlie!” you called running down the stairs in one of his long button downs. You reached up, and attempted to reach the top shelf, your efforts in vain, due to your height. “Charlie! We’re out of Nutella, and you put the peanut butter on the highest shelf!” You got on your tip-toes, causing Charlie's blue striped shirt to raise higher and higher. You felt something move behind you and saw a pale arm sneak up behind you and grab a jar of Nutella and peanut butter.

“He um, he hides the second jar.”

“Jesus, fucking hell, Shawn! You scared the shit out of me!” you said jumping and clutching your chest. He laughed a little. His lips didn’t move, but you could tell he was smiling.

“You’re such a wimp.” You shoved him.

“Shut up, you bully. He scoffed.

“Bullying you? You can’t be serious.” You smiled and shoved him. Then he smiled, an actual smile.

“Babe! It’s right on the top!” It was gone. His smile vanished as soon as it came. Charlie walked down his tight, black boxers. He came over and kissed your temple. “See babe, you got it.” You smiled and kissed him.

“No, uh. Shawn got them for me,” you said shifting your weight between your feet. No one had to say anything for it to be awkward. How could it not be, both men in front of you, wanted you. And not in the romantic movie way every producer seemed to think girls dream about, but in the real way where whatever choice you made hurt someone. Shawn nodded once and went back to his book. He had been reading a lot recently. If he put his eyes on the pages, he didn’t have to watch Charlie grab your ass. “Charlie!” you exclaimed. “Not now,” you whispered blushing. Shawn cleared his throat and closed his book.

“Gonna check on my laundry,” he said excusing himself and disappearing from view.

“Look what you did, Charlie,” you said, turning back to your food. Charlie waved his hand

“Whatever, he’s fine.” You turned from him and started abusing your poor piece of bread with a ridiculous amount of Nutella. His fingers danced up and down your waist, and he kissed your neck. “Why does he even matter? He probably just wants to finish his book or whatever.” You cocked your head to the side, accidentally allowing him easier access to your neck.

“H-have you noticed him acting weird lately?” His teeth grazed your neck. Little marks appeared up and down any available skin Charlie could find. He shrugged, paying more attention to your skin than your words.

“Maybe, might be about the girl he fucked last night,” he said nonchalantly. You sprang back.

“W-what? what? What girl did he fuck last night?” You sprung away from him, searching his eyes, waiting for him to laugh and say he was joking. He looked at you strangely. You deserved that much.

“Um, not sure? Brian just said he heard a girl’s laugh coming from his room and he put on his headphones after that.” You looked down at your shoes. Charlie smirked and pushed you against the counter. “You could go ask him-” you started to move away, but he pulled you back,”later, babe. After I'm finished.” His lips danced over your skin, but all you could think about was Shawn. You knew he said to forget it, that it was only one time he needed, but you couldn’t just forget that night. How could he forget it? How did he do it? You wished you could keep that night out of your mind . He would never know you thought about it while you were watching tv or picking up groceries. Charlie kissed your neck and his hands danced over your stomach and legs. Charlie was touching you, but all you could think about was Shawn. The fantasies played over and over in your head. Was Shawn a cuddler? I mean of course he’d held you when you tried to learn to skateboard, despite your horrid balance. He’d held you in excitement when you thought you were moving up at your job. He caught you when you fell in his arms, as you were overlooked for someone who didn’t deserve that promotion half as much as you did. These memories flooded your mind, along with questions about how he would hold you when you were in love, fully and without restraints.

Fuck, maybe he forgot it. He acted like he did. He said so many things that night that you didn’t have time to process. You didn’t have enough time to even think about a response to what he said, until now. If Shawn had told you all this earlier, would you be wearing Shawn’s band shirts instead of Charlie’s button down?

”Seriously,” Brian said, shaking his head. “You guys are always at it,” he said plopping himself down at the bar.

“Why are you all in my house again?” Charlie asked annoyed that he had to pull away from you. You averted your attention to the ground, counting the tiles that lined the floor.

“You forget we’re all staying here? Staying close since (Y/N) has been away so long?” Brian reminded. “It’s like you don’t even remember half the shit you say,” Brian muttered under his breath. They both kept talking, but you couldn’t focus for the life of you.

“(Y/N)?” Charlie nudged you. “Babe?” You blinked and looked up at him.

“Yeah?” Your eyes were spaced, clearly exposing the fact that you were not there mentally.

“Brian was talking to you, babe.” Fuck you, in your head again. You turned to Brian with a small smile.

“What’d you say? Sorry.” Brian laughed.

“S’alright. What time did you go to bed last night?” Charlie grabbed you by the waist and nipped at your jaw.

“Not till late.”

“Oh god,” Brian said, cringing at what Charlie hinted at. Truth is, you hadn’t, not since the night you and Shawn shared. You could see how frustrated Charlie was getting. Finally had a break from both of your lives putting you in the same place, on the same wavelength, and the one thing he wanted didn’t want him back. The less responsive you got, the more he touched you and bragged to the boys. You moved his hands off you, signaling him to put an end to the public show. It’s as if Shawn knew you were done putting on an act. He came sauntering down the stairs and made himself at home again, quietly, nose buried in the fridge.

“Well, what I was saying was. The vibe in the house is all wrong. I don’t know exactly what it is,” he said, eyes darting to you, “But! I plan on fixing it. Family game night! Just like we used to! And attendance,” he said, looking at Shawn this time, “is mandatory.”

“Yes! Oh, yes! You’re all about to get your ass kicked,” Charlie cheered.

“Bring your worst,” Matt said. When did he even walk in? You were more lost in your thoughts than you realized. Brain was, not so secretly, looking at you and Shawn, neither of you sharing any excitement.

Game night was awkward, but you’re not really sure what you expected. “Oh come ON. That is so not fair!” Matt groaned as Charlie slapped him with another +4 card.

Between passing cards and beers, things were starting to feel like they could be okay, like you could laugh without feeling everyone’s eyes on you, silently asking which boy you were in love with. You lost. Every. Single. Game. But you being able to feel your shoulders relax around the people closest to you felt nice. It felt nice to not feel on edge for a while.

“I told you that you were going to get your ass kicked, not sure why you didn’t believe me,” Charlie said with a soft laugh, while taking a swig of his beer. He pulled you close and pressed a kiss to your temple. “See baby, you’re dating a winner.” You forced a small smile up at him and looked back down at your cards. Shawn rolled his eyes. He saw through you in a way Charlie wouldn’t even try to.

“Remember how I said uno? HA!” Brain yelled as he slammed his last card down, dancing and prancing around the table like he had just won the lotto.

“HOW THE FUCK!” Charlie roared, his eye flaring wildly around the room, searching for some sort of explanation. Brian was still gloating, not giving a damn in the world about Charlie’s temper. “He cheated! He must have cheated!” he said, arms pointing at the table, eyes locked on Brian.

“Oh, give it a rest, mate. Ya lost a friendly game of uno, you’ll live.” Brian said, annoyance seeping through his smile.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” he said, swatting at Brian, finally allowing himself to laugh at his loss. “Well I’m going to cry myself to sleep. G’night everyone!” he said with a nod. He leaned down to your level to plant a kiss on your lips, a kiss sweeter than everyone needed to see. “Night, baby.” Brian raise his eyebrows at the situation and sprung up himself.

“Yeah, tired! Yawn, goodnight!” Brian said while leaving the room.

“Brian. . . you literally said yawn! You didn’t even yawn!” you fussed as suddenly you realize everyone left the room for you and Shawn to clean up. You’re not sure if it’s on purpose or not, but it would be a lie to say you weren’t slightly hoping for time alone. You need to act on it.

“I’ll wipe down. You do the dishes?” you asked sheepishly, turning to face Shawn. He nods and turns his attention from you and turns around to start the dishes.

“Sounds good.” God, was it silent. You wanted this time alone with him to talk about all that happened, but you didn’t know how to start the conversation. What's the right way to say “hey I know you told me you loved me and I didn’t say it back and like I didn’t know it then but maybe I wanna revisit that?” You wished you could come out and say it, but you're too nervous.

“So, are we going to talk, or are you going to keep staring at my ass?” You laugh, thankful that he knows you need him to break the tension, need him to be the one to make the first move.

“I feel like i keep nagging you with the same questions, but why are you avoiding me?” He laughs, like you’ve said the funniest yet stupidest thing in the world.

“Well isn't it obvious?” Not being able to read his mind was killing you.

“We ever going to talk about it? Or am I that easy for you to forget?” you tried to joke, but you both knew the words stung coming out of your mouth. He went back to vigorously washing the same dish.

“Didn't forget,” he mumbled. “Just didn't have anything to say.” You laughed, a bitterness lacing the sound.

“That night you couldn't wait to shut me up, but now you have nothing to say? Brilliant.” You were mad, with no right to be, but you needed him to ask one more time. You needed him to give you the option again. “Shawn,” you said sternly. He ignores you, and recently, it’s becoming more common. You try again, louder this time.

“I know it did.” What the fuck? He answered a question you didn’t even ask out loud. “I know what you’re thinking; you don’t have to say it.” He lowered his voice this time. “That night, it messed us up,” he shook his head. “I would have never been so selfish if I knew what it was going to do to us.” You gripped the counter, tension flowing throughout your body.

“Don’t.” you barely managed to get out through a clenched jaw. “Don’t say that.” He finally looked up from his cup to stare into your eyes. Confusion. It was written all over his face.

“What? What does that even mean, (y/n)?” His voice sounded tired and annoyed all at once. “What now? You wanna talk?” he says throwing the rag in a full sink, water and bubbles splashing everywhere. “Fine,” his long legs allow a quick stride to the table. The chair screams against the floor as he motions for you to sit. “Sit, let's talk then.” You look at him a while before sitting. He’s playing with his hands, the distraction forcing his mind to stop racing and calm down, something you've seen him do time and time again.

“Shawn,” you tried.

“It’s like you forget that I know you. Forget that I’m always checking up you, even when if you realize that or not. Like I didn’t see you deleted most of your pictures with Charlie on Facebook, like i didn’t notice you took down your relationship status.” You looked at him, mouth agape. He shot you a look that told you to not even think of interjecting him right now. “I know it doesn’t say single, but it doesn’t say in a relationship anymore either. You can’t tell me that means nothing.” He was pleading with you at this point, wishing you would give in. Silence hushed the room.

“I can’t.” He almost would have missed your whisper, if he didn't hang onto every word you said. His eyes lit up, full of the hope that only those two words could bring. His eyes are big, blown out and asking for you to let him into your mind.

“Please --” he’s begging, proper begging now. He just needs to hear it. It’s your turn to hold your hand up. You need a minute to make your heart start racing.

“ Shawn, I,” you trailed off, head tucked into your shoulder. He waited, his smile slowly faltering. He’s not far off from breaking down, right there in front of you. He rests his eyes for a minute, ready to swallow the last bit of pride he didn’t even know he had.

“You already know I love you, but I can--” He paused to think. He gets up from his chair and moves to the other side of the kitchen. You give him a second before shyly removing yourself from your chair to join him. “I can show you what love is supposed to feel like. I can show you what it looks like when someone thinks about you before they think about themselves.” Suddenly, he has you pressed against the fridge, lips trailing along your outside of your ear. “I can show you how it’s supposed to feel; how your body’s supposed to feel when the right person is pressing up on it.” His hands are sliding down your arms and instinctively you’re pushing back on him. His lips ghost your neck. “See this? This is the reaction Charlie should be fighting for, fighting for your body to react to every little thing he does. But I don’t want it.” He said, pulling away, moving to make you look into his eyes. “Unless you’re willing to give me the real thing. I deserve that. I deserve security and answers and a girl who wants me back.” He looks at you, eyes searching, and again, he’s left you at a loss for words. You’re not saying anything, and his resolve is breaking. The silence that fills the room if familiar and deafening. He’s not sure he could’ve heard you over his own racing thoughts. He sighs, sad, and turns to walk away.

“I love you alright!”

“What?” He doesn't sound happy.

“I said it. I love you.”

“Oh.” He stops. His eyebrows scrunch up like he’s trying to figure out a math equation. “Okay.”

“What the--? I just told you I love you? Isn’t this what you’ve been waiting for me to say?” He spins around quickly, suddenly invading your space.

“No, this isn't what I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear you realized it was me all along. I wanted to hear you say you were scared to jump, and that's why you were with Charlie, but you’re ready to be brave now. I wanted to hear,” this time his hands gripped yours “I wanted to hear that your body,” his hands now clutched your waist and lower back “only melts for me now. You didn't say any of that, you just said you loved me because you thought that's what I needed to hear.” He dropped all contact with you. “What I don’t need is a lie. What I needed was you.” Needed. That hurt. You felt like you were trying to grab air. You didn't know how to say what you wanted to say, so you just said it.

“I think about you! All the time. In my fucking sleep, in the shower, in every day dream,” you whimpered at the end, causing him to look at you with wild eyes. It was like he was hearing his inner thoughts be read aloud. You continued. “I, I never thought about us like that, okay? Not for real. I thought you were complimenting me bc we were friends, holding me because you had to. I didn’t think you loved me like that, ok? When you said it that night of the party, I thought it was the alcohol, but then I noticed. Fuck, I thought back and started to see it, I started to believe it.” you slumped into the dining room chair, head in your hands. Was that? Sniffling? Oh, he did not just hear crying.

“Honey,” he started while placing a hand on your shoulder. You shrugged him off.

“No, you did this!” he moved back, his head jerking in confusion.

“What?”

“Yes, you! If you would have just told me how you felt earlier--” His boisterous laugh cut you off

“Me? This is my fault?” he smiled as he removed your hands from your face.

“Are you really going to laugh at me while I’m trying to tell you I love you?” Yup, that did it. His heart was shot. No matter how strong, he wouldn't dream of removing cupid's arrow for the life of him. “I love the way you laugh, your stupid curls, feeling birds at the park, listening to you write songs, you always forgetting to refile the toilet paper in the bathroom, and every fucking stupid thing you’ve done since we met, okay? I. Love. You.” He was beaming, truly thought his cheeks would rip. “But,” his smile faltered. It didn't fade, but faltered. “But, I need time. To work out my thoughts, to tell Charlie, to find a new place, since we live together. I’m still saying I love you, but I do need time.” He looked down to his shoes, pondering bouts of new information.

“Time, I can give you.” his hand was cupping your damp cheek and soothing away any remaining tears. “I can let you figure things out, but this doesn’t change the fact that I deserve someone who loves me. I can’t have you rip out my heart one day and then offer to put it back together, while you’re still holding the knife.” He had always been open to sharing the love and joy you gave him, but this was your first glimpse of the pain you caused. It made you wince. He felt you recoil and moved your chair closer. “I’m not,” he paused, “I'm not saying I need an answer tomorrow, but I do need an answer. You can’t keep us both, honey. And a part of me feels like shit for making you choose, but for me, for yourself, you gotta choose.” You nodded, not thinking you’d feel so nad during what's supposed to be a fairy tale ending for the both of you. You pawed at your face and got up from the chair.

“Well I uh, I have to finish cleaning up here, so.” He rolled his eyes playfully. You missed that.

“Go up stairs. You’ve always been bad at dishes anyway.” He fake swats at you with the dish rag, and you wished you could laugh. “We’ll get through this alright? No matter what you decide, we’ll see it through.” With that, you trudged up the stairs to let your thoughts flow freely inside the confines of your room.

Two weeks. You went two weeks without talking about that night. Secrets became the staple of your relationship, the lying and silence became customary. Charlie was happy to have your attention, and Matt was too oblivious to notice. That left Brian to bounce back and forth between you two. Ever since that night, you needed the house filled. You needed a distraction. You needed people around so you could get time to just think about how to move forward, to think without Charlie’s hands all over you. Everyone having a good time should have made you feel better. It didn’t.

“You never told me what happened after game night,” Brian said, handing you a beer. You never really liked the taste, but it’s the only thing that made you talk without restrictions.

“N-nothing happened.” Hiccup. Sip. “Talked.” You felt Brian getting annoyed that no one would let him in on what was going on. You needed to get out. Yup. You knew you were fucked up, and you needed out of this conversation before you let something slip that you couldn’t take back. Brian shook his head and took his own sip.

“Something happened, so please stop lying and fucking enlighten me.” You got up and threw your empty bottle into the pile and got up.

“Thanks for the beer.” You shot him a lazy smile and slid off the chair. His arm launched for you as you lost your footing. “F-fine! I’m fine,” you said, shooting Brian another signature smile. You were over socializing, you just wanted to fall asleep to the soft lull of the party and escape in your thoughts. You started the trek up the stairs to your room, ignoring Brian’s calls for you. God, were you annoyed. These railings wouldn’t stop attacking your sides. God, these stairs seemed much longer when your head was buzzing. You stumbled before you could reach the last step. Arms caught you before you could reach the ground. “W-what the fuck?” you slurred.

“Shh, s'alright.” Familiar arms went to reach around your waist and pulled you to your feet.

“W-what?” you mumbled, too intoxicated to understand anything that was going on. You felt yourself flying, no, getting carried from the hallway and into a dark room, dimly lit by tiny lights adorning the walls.

“I’ve got you, just-“ he sighed and sat you on the bed. You blinked, over and over, to try and identify the blurry face in front of you. His finger ghosted over your face. He sighed, shaking his head. You felt something tugging at the bottom of your shirt. The hands pulled your shirt off and quickly slipped on another shirt. You didn’t feel eyes on your skin, and that’s because he wasn’t looking.vIt’s been weeks, and he didn’t even look. He started slipping off your shorts, and you played with the bottom of the black t-shirt. He turned to the dresser to fold your clothes.

“Billie Eilish,” you mumbled, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric between your fingers.

“Yeah, she’s your favorite, right? Am I wrong? Did it change?” He asked as if he didn’t know. He asked as if you both didn’t know that you talked about Billie to him for hours in bed with him some nights. Well, before.

“You don’t like her,” you pointed out, still staring at the black fabric. He rested himself against the dresser, staring at you in the mirror.

“You know I bought it for you.” Listening to him made you sober up, a little. You smiled and closed your eyes. He smiled too, just for a second. He walked over to you, pulled the covers down and slid your legs under them. “Time to sleep, (Y/N).” You nodded drowsily and moved completely under the covers. He pulled the covers up to your chin, and you pulled them down. He sighed, but you could have sworn you saw a little smile. You closed your eyes, and your head rolled to the side. You felt a pair of warm lips touch your forehead.You smiled and imagined he did too. Your chest rose and fell seven times before you felt yourself being pulled into a block of warmth.

Morning. Fuck. Your head burned, and the light stung. Your mind was fucked from the liquor. You were alone, no one around to ask just how big your bottle pile was last night. Was someone actually in your room last night? Or did you dream that up too? You dreamt you won the lotto. That for sure was a dream, but you weren’t sure the boy was. If you squeezed your eyes shut, and kept them closed for long enough, you could still feel the warmth wrapped around your body. Your hands made their way to the black, soft fabric of the borrowed t-shirt that hung loosely around your frame. You heard a buzz. You were sure your head just buzzed. You threw your hand out and swatted around until you found the brown bedside table. You yanked the drawer open, and your hand felt around, looking for anything to stop the room from vibrating. You searched to shut the phone off, but instead you found a tiny polaroid. You squinted your eyes open to inspect. A smile crept across your face, as your fingers ghosted over the picture. His arm was thrown around your shoulder and you were smiling a true smile, from ear to ear. Shawn looked so young; you did too. Maybe because things were uncomplicated back then, no sneaking around or secrets: just plain old friends. You closed your eyes, the picture folded up in the palm of your hand, and rolled onto his side of the bed, inhaling his scent and pretending he was there. The buzzing turned into background noise, lulling you back to your dreams.

You woke up again, groggy and still alone. You knew you couldn’t hide from reality any longer, but that didn’t mean facing the truth was any easier. What if. The two words dancing around your mind endlessly, running you in circles. No matter what you did, you felt like you lost. If you chose to stick with Charlie, you don’t have a best friend. Shawn could spew whatever bullshit to everyone else, but not to you. You weren’t the same. You don’t have your best friend, and that was just the truth. You thought Charlie was it; he’s what you can get and it’s not so bad, so you stick with it. Was that wrong? Was it wrong to be afraid to jump into something you didn’t know, without the security of it working out? Charlie wasn’t a bad boyfriend. Charlie wasn’t a villain Shawn was saving you from. Charlie wasn’t bad, he just wasn’t Shawn. If you pick Shawn, you ruin the group dynamic. ‘As if it isn’t already ruined’ you rebut in your head. If you pick Shawn you could have a heart-shattering love that could end a number of unforeseeable ways. Your mind and your mind have never been on further sides. Thinking about it didn’t make it any easier, so you decided to stop thinking about it.

Downstairs. You were downstairs now. As soon as your foot left the last stair of the staircase, you wished you would have slept longer. Your dreams were a safe space to workout your feelings, without exposing your inner thoughts to anyone. The memories soothed any troubles you had floating around in your head. Charlie’s lips were on your neck instantly, and the memories got fuzzy.

“Morning, sleepy head,” he muttered into your neck, eyes closed and hands instantly tangled in your hair, attempting to pull closer

You could see Shawn watching you from the bar. He raised an eyebrow and continued stirring his tea, that weird lemon ginger shit for his throat, no doubt. You closed your eyes and tried to think of what it would be like if Charlie and Shawn switched places, just for a second. Charlie’s teeth were attempting to leave purple marks on your skin. His teeth sunk into the fantasy, ripping it from your mind. Shawn’s eyes dropped to his tea, his finger catching any tea that laid cold on the rim of the cup. Every mark reminded Shawn of who you were. Not his. Every second you lay in Shawn’s arm showed him what you chose.

“Charlie,” you said quietly, pushing him away.

“Babe,” he laughed as his tongue darted out and left a slimy trail down your neck.

”Charlie.” You said it louder than you wanted to, louder than you expected. Even Shawn stopped stirring to look up at you.

“Fucking fine,” he kept grumbling, but you stopped listening after Shawn looked up at you. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked without moving his lips. Charlie stormed away, so it was just you and him. You nodded and stared at him. He made no move to pry and ask how you were feeling. You wish he had. After confirming he was making no move towards you, you began your trek upstairs. Left. Right. Up the stairs until you landed in front of the room. Shawn was right behind you.

“Hey.” You turned and looked up at him with wide eyes, his voice bringing you out of your thoughts.

“What?-“

“Hey. Uh,” he stuttered, visibly uncomfortable. “I just said hey.” You nodded.

“Yeah, sorry, hi.” You looked away at the ceiling, down the stairs, at the wall, anything to escape his gaze. You forced yourself to look back up at him, into his eyes. In his eyes, you could see him pinning you against the wall. You could almost feel his breath on your neck. You could feel his grabby hands at your waist. You could imagine his warmth. Snap back to reality, Shawn was inches from your face. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“You okay?” You closed your eyes, one small touch bringing back every memory of that night. Your eyes locked. Your stomach felt weird, and your heart was beating too fast.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you whispered, not breaking eye contact.

“Okay,” he said and started to pull away, but before the warmth of his hand left your cheek, you grabbed his bicep. Shit. It got bigger. “(Y/N) ...” he said, staring at your hand on him. You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything. You let him pull you into his arms. You sniffed, the musky cologne and pizza grease filling your nostrils.

“Shawn, when’s the last time you changed your shirt?” He laughed. A real one. It vibrated through his whole chest.

“Dunno, few days or so.” You laughed, a real one too. You cringed and moved away from him.

“Ew, Shawn, that’s gross!” He laughed and pulled you close to him. “Shawn, stop!” You squealed. He just kept squeezing you closer and closer, until you could feel his heart beat right next to yours. “Shawn! Shawn! Can’t breathe!” He laughed softly. The laughter died down, but a genuine happiness emanated around you. He stared at you a while, eyes soft and kind, asking permission before he closed his eyes and rested his nose on yours. He took a deep breath, and even though your eyes were closed, you thought you could feel him smiling.

“Hi, (Y/N).” That’s all he said, but it felt like it was something he had been holding back for a while. Your nose rubs against his.

“Hey, Shawn.” You stood there, legs aching but unable to remove yourself from Shawn, the old Shawn you fell in love with. You grabbed his hand. You didn’t feel a spark, or anything everyone talked about, it just felt familiar. You couldn’t explain what familiar felt like, or that a feeling like that even existed, but Shawn never seemed to fit into anything you knew. When you pulled him closer, you touched his hand, you felt Charlie. You felt the pain he would feel if you allowed yourself to melt into Shawn.You stood there, not knowing what to do and not saying anything. A few more seconds, then you would pull away. A few more seconds had passed. And then a few more. Your hand was on Shawn’s again, or maybe it never left? Your hand pulled on his, leading both of you to his bedroom. You pulled on his arm, but his body never moved. You pulled a little harder. You only needed a few minutes. A few minutes to feel the way his body curled around yours. His feet shuffled, in that awkward way they usually did. “Shawn, c’mon,” you said whining softly. You didn’t want a fight, and quite frankly, you weren’t expecting one. He moved closer to you, bringing you nose and nose once again.

“Can’t,” he whispered. Your eyes flew open and watched him slowly move to leave a lingering kiss on your temple. He didn’t open his eyes until he was completely turned around. You watched him walk to his room and close the door, you on the other side of it.

Thank you all for leaving such kind messages and being invested in the story. I appreciate you so much! @tastymendes @alinashawn @shawn-youth @zlamaneserca @starrynight144 @mendesficsxbombay @queenyamimarrero

135 notes · View notes

btschooseafic · 3 years

Text

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: Aviva and Jungkook go to Los Angeles for a month.

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts.

[Masterlist]

Interlude 4: Love in LA

summer - keshi

“Feel like summer and I don't wanna miss you

If we don’t touch lips, not an issue”

July-August 2012

When it was decided Jungkook and his choreographer teacher would go to Los Angeles to train from July to August, Aviva was asked if she wanted to go along as a translator. All she needed to do was pass the international driving test and she was good to go.

Not having been home, or seen her family in some time, Aviva took the opportunity to take a few days off to meet them in San Francisco.

Aviva and Namjoon spent plenty of time with Jungkook going over easier common English phrases that he might need to use during the trip.

Aviva and Jungkook had plenty of time to practice English over the 13 hour flight, although they also watched several movies, napped, ate snacks, drew, and compared plane travel playlists.

Jungkook, Son Sungdeuk, and Aviva were staying in a dorm room provided by Movement Lifestyle, the dance company they were learning with. It seemed like the booking agent hadn’t been aware that the room was for two guys and a girl. There was one bedroom with a bunk bed, and a small common living space with a pullout couch. Aviva took the couch, and though she felt a little uncomfortable at first, she quickly adjusted. There was only so much of doing a person’s laundry twice a week before you got over any awkwardness, and besides, they were all too busy to feel awkward. While Jungkook and Sungdeuk focused on dance, Aviva was essentially acting as a full time translator, along with managing meals, travel, and business opportunities.

Jungkook was also feeling stressed out, having double the language barrier with both English and a lot of complex dance terminology. Aviva studied hard so that she could help him better.

They would wake up early in the morning to research terms at a nearby Korean restaurant, where Jungkook said he felt less homesick.

On the weekends they had free time, and ran around by the ocean. Sometimes Sungdeuk would treat them for a meal, sometimes they’d go off by themselves.

On the second Sunday both Aviva and Sungdeuk had business meetings. Jungkook asked Aviva if she could drop him off at the beach still. She was worried about him wondering around alone, but when she picked him up he excitedly told her about meeting a restaurant owner who was Korean, and gave him a free lemonade.

Two weeks before the trip ended, Aviva and Jungkook were coming out of the dance studio for a lunch break when someone suddenly ran at her.

Aviva caught her in a hug, the girl’s legs wrapping around her waist as she laughed.

“Oh my God! I haven’t seen you in person in forever! Your hair got so long! Are you surprised?”

“Ah… noona, are you okay?” Jungkook asked nervously in Korean.

“Jen…” Aviva hugged her back, rubbing her back for a moment before letting go. “Yeah, you did surprise me, can I put you down now? You’re scaring Jungkook.”

“Who?” Jenny wondered.

“My co-worker. My friend. He’s standing behind you, confused.”

“Oh…” Jenny slid off of her, looking sheepishly at Jungkook. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there…” She blushed.

Jungkook continued looking confusedly at Aviva.

“This is my little sister,” Aviva told him in Korean. “She’s your age.”

“Oh!” Jungkook bowed slightly. “Um… nice to meet you!” He held out his hand. Jenny shook it, chewing at the inside of her cheek.

For the next week Aviva spent any free moments with her sister. Jenny was staying at her friend’s house nearby. She joined Aviva and Jungkook for breakfast, Jungkook shyly pointing out his favorite dishes on the menu, Jenny impressing him with her high spice tolerance. Jenny met them during their lunch break as well, picking up food and eating with them quickly on the studio’s front stoop. Aviva would leave with her for an hour or so, to the beach, or window shopping, while Jungkook went back inside for practice.

At night the sisters stayed up late chatting in Jenny’s friend’s living room, eating cartoons of ice cream and giggling about nothing.

On Saturday, Jenny joined Aviva and Jungkook on this week’s excursion. At first Jenny and Jungkook awkwardly followed Aviva through museum, not quite looking at each other or speaking. Then they both got excited by an empty staircase and wanted Aviva to take pictures of them on it. From that moment on, the two found they had a lot in common, from singing, to photography, even to skateboarding! When Jenny mentioned she had wanted to take up skateboarding recently, Jungkook said he’d always wanted to try. On Sunday the two of them went and bought skateboards and practiced together.

Aviva was surprised when Jenny texted her that she’d fallen, and Jungkook was overreacting. She rushed downstairs to find Jungkook carrying Jenny on his back towards the dorm as Jenny complained, her face bright red.

“How do you say idiot in Korean?” Jenny huffed. “I just skinned my knees, he doesn’t need to fucking carry me!”

Aviva laughed. “Your face!”

“Shut up!” Jenny said.

“…Pabo,” Aviva said. Jungkook blinked. “Both of you are idiots… come inside, I’ve got a first aid kit.”

Jungkook finally put Jenny down when Aviva insisted she would be fine. Jenny sat on the toilet in the dorm’s bathroom. Jungkook hovered in the doorway until Aviva shut the door on him.

“I don’t get it,” Jenny muttered. “He was so shy at first, now all of a sudden he’s picking me up and practically running us back here…”

“He’s a passionate kid,” Aviva said, cleaning off Jenny’s knees. “He gets protective over people he cares about.”

“Okay, sure,” Jenny said. “But we’ve only known each other for a week…”

Aviva shrugged. “I’ve always told you you’re a very lovable person.”

“Shut up,” Jenny said again, shoving her. Aviva just smiled.

The last week of the trip, Aviva had been planning to meet her family in San Francisco. However, seeing how well Jungkook and Jenny got along, she talked to her parents, and they came to visit in LA instead.

Jungkook joined them for dinner one night.

“Are you sure I don’t need to dress up or anything?” Jungkook asked, pulling at his t-shirt.

Aviva shook her head. “It’s a casual restaurant. Just chill,” she said. Jungkook swallowed. Aviva sighed and gave him a quick hug. “What are you scared of?”

He shrugged. “It just feels… weird. Can’t explain it. Sorry.”

“Don’t have to be sorry,” Aviva told him. “Remember to breath. They won’t bite.”

By the time dinner ended, Aviva’s mother had given Jungkook resources for learning English, and Aviva’s father had suggested some old comics for him to read.

“…I think dad was more excited to talk to you than to me,” Jenny said as she walked Jungkook and Aviva back to the dorm. “And I haven’t seen him in a while…”

Jungkook looked confusedly at Aviva, who translated. He shook his head. “I’m sure that’s not true!” He said in Korean. Aviva sighed and translated again.

Jenny looked at Jungkook, her face scrunched up in what Aviva recognized as a look of determination.

“Avi—do you mind if me and JK go to that ice cream place down the block by ourselves? We’ll bring you back something if you want, I just… want to talk to him a bit by myself.”

Aviva titled her head. “How will you say whatever you want to say?” She wondered.

“…We’ll do our best with Google Translate and charades,” Jenny decided. Aviva nodded.

“Okay, text me.”

Aviva waited up for Jungkook in the living room. She could already hear Sungdeuk snoring in the other room by the time he came back.

“Your parents picked her up at the ice cream place,” Jungkook told her when he saw her sitting up looking at her laptop.

“I know, she texted me.” Aviva held up her phone. She looked at him expectantly.

He sighed. “Do we have to talk about it?”

Aviva shook her head. “I trust you guys.”

Jungkook smiled.

“Okay. Thank you. I’m going to sleep now.”

By the time the trip was over, Jenny looked almost sadder to see Jungkook go than Aviva.

“That’s not true!” Jenny said when Aviva accused her of this at the airport. “I’ll miss you both, really!” Aviva started to translate but Jungkook waved his hand, blushing.

“I understand,” he said to her in Korean, before turning to Jen, his smile bittersweet as he told her in English, “I miss you.” Both his comprehension and pronunciation had improved a lot over the course of a month.

Jenny took his hand in hers, smiling back at him.

Aviva squinted at them. “Do I have to give you both the, ‘if you hurt them I’ll hurt you’ speech, or can we skip that, cause it’s kind of awkward for me?”

“I vote skipping,” Jenny said, raising her hand without missing a beat. Aviva repeated her question in Korean, looking at Jungkook.

He waved his hands emphatically. “Yeah, no, let’s not do that, I agree.”

Aviva was pleasantly surprised to find Jin, Namjoon, and Soonyoung waiting for them at the airport when they touched down in Seoul.

“Your hair!” Soonyoung squealed at such a high pitch that Namjoon winced, and Jin’s eyes went wide.

“Ah, is that what you use all your vocal training for, Soonyoung-ssi?” Namjoon grumbled, rubbing his ear. Her eyes narrowed at him.

“Yeah, bet I could make even you hit that note with a good swift kick between the—”

“Okay, okay,” Jin said nervously. He looked around. “Eh, what happened to Sungdeuk-seonsaengnim?”

“Bathroom,” Jungkook said.

“Anyway,” Soonyoung continued. “How can you not be excited by how cute Avi��s hair is!” She squealed again, a little less loudly this time, touching the short ends of Avi’s new shoulder length hair. “You haven’t cut it in years—what happened?”

Jungkook flushed. “Ah, that’s sort of my fault.”

Aviva shrugged. “It was an accident, Kookie, don’t worry about it,” she said, patting him on the arm. Namjoon looked at them questioningly. “Jungkook-ah got gum in my hair, Jenny—that’s my sister, cut it out, and it was kind of high up, so she went to even it out and… snip… snip.” Aviva motioned her fingers like scissors. Jungkook winced. “She did pretty good though, I think.”

Jungkook smiled a little dreamily. “Yeah…”

Soonyoung raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay… Anyway, girl, let’s get home. You must be tired. And if you’re hungry, Jin-oppa gave us some leftover stir-fry, for some reason, so you can eat that in the car, if you want.”

“Oh. Thanks, oppa,” Aviva said to him.

He smiled.

“No problem. For some reason, I keep making too much recently, so…”

Namjoon shook his head, smiling slightly. “It’s Jungkookie. He eats the most. Now that he’s back, we’ll never have any leftovers again.”

“Yah!” Jungkook protested. Aviva shrugged.

“He’s a growing boy. Gonna be taller than you someday, Joon-ah.”

“Yeah? He’s welcome to it. He’ll hit his head on the doorframe,” Namjoon thought.

“We should get going,” Soonyoung said again, linking her arm with Aviva’s.

“Ah, right, we’ll wait for seonsaengnim, then,” Jin said. “Give him a ride back, to be polite.”

“I’ll just walk you two to the exit,” Namjoon offered, taking Aviva’s bag.

“You don’t have to—” She started, but he was already walking.

“I’ll just run and get the car,” Soonyoung said as they stepped outside. “Joonie, wait with her.” Namjoon made a face at her way of addressing him, but nodded.

They stood in the muffled quiet of small groups of people getting into cars, moving along with their suitcases. “It does look good,” Namjoon said, pushing her hair back from her face. She stiffened and he stopped, drawing back.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

“You’re not… sad to cut your hair?” He wondered. “Since it was so long…”

She shrugged. “It was a pain to take care of, actually. I was just leaving it longer because shorter hair would make me stand out more, and… well, I was feeling nervous about going to a hairdresser.”

“What makes you nervous about it?” Namjoon wondered. Aviva looked at him. His expression was completely non-judgmental, just curious.

“Well, I don’t like strangers touching me, but I can’t move, because I’m paying for a service, and then there’s the small talk…” She sighed.

“If you ever want to go, I can go with you,” Namjoon offered. She frowned. “If that would help…”

“Well, it might, but… Wouldn’t you get bored?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t remember ever feeling bored when I’m with you.”

“Namjoon…” Aviva looked at him, not sure what she was going to say, and saved the effort of figuring it out by a car pulling up in front of them, the window rolling down to reveal Soonyoung buckled into the driver’s seat. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he repeated. “I’ll see you around.”

Back at home, Soonyoung noted that the trip had done both Aviva and Jungkook well.

“You both seem to have gained a little confidence,” Soonyoung thought as they lay on Aviva bed together, Soonyoung chewing her old favorite American brand of gum and flipping through a nostalgic magazine Aviva brought back for her. “Although, that boy is still such a baby—are you sure him and Jen were interested in each other?”

“They exchanged emails, and phone numbers,” Aviva told her. “She’s shown him some lyrics she’s written, and he’s shown her a cover of a pop song he was too embarrassed to show the boys—it’s cute.”

“I can’t believe it,” Soonyoung popped her gum.

“Ew, stop, you know I hate it when you do that,” Aviva said, pushing her. Soonyoung did it again, looking her full in the eye. Aviva glared.

While she was gone, it seemed like the Bangtan lineup had finally settled. With all seven of the boys finally promised their debut, Aviva was extra happy to help Youngjin book them some side gigs for exposure, such as background dancing and writing on other artist’s songs. Aviva was nervous when the head of every managing department, as well as Bang got together to review her work.

After looking it over, Kim Byunho, Head of the Artist Management team, nodded. “My vote is yes.”

“I’m the same,” Bang Si Hyuk said.

“…Alright,” Youngjin said uncertainly.

“I would say so,” Jungsook agreed. “What do you think, Aviva-ssi, are you ready?”

“Ready?” Aviva repeated. “For what, sunbae?”

#bts #jeon jungkook #bts x oc #jungkook x oc #idolverse #bts predebut #manager!oc #fanfiction #bts fanfiction

6 notes · View notes

goodtimingz · 4 years

Text

dreaming you would come true

intro. pt1. pt2. pt3. pt4. pt5.

AN: I’m so sorry for the long wait, I have 2 weeks before midterms are over and I can write all about park jaehyung and day6 (can’t wait).(rn i’m writing bc 4am vibes) HAPPY MYDAY ANNIVERSARY BTW <3

(I strongly insist that you check out the blm carrd You can sign petitions, stream videos made so that all money from ads will be donated, and generally educate yourself/spread awareness. Keep the conversations going, don’t let this be just another trend. I love you all, please be safe if you are attending protests and fight the good fight. )

tags: studentlife, jae day6, fluff, college!au, sexual acts implied.

: the one where you meet jae in your second year of college and it’s basically love at first sight. just little excerpts of what i think a relationship w jae would be like c:

1k words.

As the day passes, my heart grows deeper and deeper for you.

The night before Jae had left to fly home, the two of you had been determined to make it memorable. That obviously meant eating McDonalds at midnight, walking around the town holding hands for hours and cuddling until his alarm sang at 8am. Maybe the two of you were clingy, the honey-moon phase very alive… But it still felt good to be together even if one month wasn’t supposed to be a long time.

Surprisingly it wasn’t so bad. Jae had rang you every day even for just 5 minutes to tell you a bad joke, and between that Wonpil had visited your room about 3 times a day just because he could. The break had felt great, but when Jae knocked on your door at 8pm on a Saturday, you couldn’t refrain from jumping into his arms immediately.

“Feels good to be home.” Jae laughed loudly, his arms tightly wrapped around you. You blushed, placing a kiss on his cheek for good measure. When he placed you down, it took about 20 seconds before you had pushed him onto your bed and joined his side, resting your head in his arms happily. Being with Jae again felt like meeting him for the first time, but feeling so safe at the same time.

Jae placed a kiss on your head before wriggling his arm out from underneath your neck. “I bought you something…” He reached into his bag, pulling out a big bottle of Vodka with a bow on it, but it didn’t stop there. He reached outside your door only to present you with a skateboard. Trust Jae, alcohol and skating was a summary of his favourite hobbies.

“Are you sending me a message here?” You raised an eyebrow before a grin spread across your face. Jae placed the two objects infront of you with a deep and dramatic bow. “For you my queen… and yes.”

Message received loud and clear. Tonight’s plans were skating and drinking until you couldn’t stand up straight. Jae had been wanting to teach you how to skateboard for so long, he wouldn’t stop talking about it. Although you whined in response about breaking your back if you tried, the thought of being able to skate with Jae late at night seemed fun.

“Thank you so much Jae!” You hugged him gleefully. You could feel his smile against your neck, the smile that knew he’d made you happy. “I also bought you something…” You detached yourself from him, reaching into your drawer before sitting on your bed. Jae raised his eyebrows in surprise but sat back quietly. Pulling out a small box with gold letters writing “TO Jae.” on the top. You handed it to Jae, watching as he gently took it from you and opened it.

You’d spent hours searching for something decent, something Jae wouldn’t call cheesy or tease you for (out of love), something he’d actually use. This lead you to a website that made cuff bracelets with personal engraving, and you knew Jae would look too good with one of them. Of course, it had only been one month (officially), so you went for the subtlest engraving you could think of, which was the longitude of your University. Hoping, wishing that the bracelet would be meaningful for a long time to come.

Jae’s big, wide eyes looked up at you from underneath his long hair. He looked so sweet and innocent like that and you couldn’t help but melt. “Thank you, I love it Y/N.”

Suddenly Jae was directly in front of you, his nose nearly touching yours. You had missed this, his breath fanning across your lips and his eyes shutting gently as you leaned in to meet his lips. When you kissed Jae it felt driven, almost every time. His lips moved quickly and then slowly, always first to swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, and you weren’t one to deny him. He parted your legs to make space for him, pushing you back so you were lying on your bed with him on top. His hands travelled from your hips up, while you tangled your hands in his hair softly. When you finally pulled back for a breath, Jae scrunched his nose cutely before placing a kiss on your forehead. “I think it’s time you teach me how to skate, don’t you think?” You spoke breathily, pushing yourself to sit up again.

Jae whined, obviously a bit needy (which was beyond cute). Of course that lasted for about a minute before he excitedly picked up your board while you rushed to grab your coat. In the 2 days after you’d cried infront of him, you two had been … busy to say the least. But whenever you asked to stop or didn’t want to, Jae would always respect your decision. He would quickly bounce on to the next topic or activity like it was no big deal, and it wasn’t.

The cold night air felt like a slap the minute the two of you stepped out of your dorm. Jae had been quick to place your hand in his pocket while you carried the skateboard to Jae’s dormitory. There were few people out at this time, but the familiar sound of skateboard wheels on concrete echoed through the quiet streets. “Youngk and Dowoon flew back about 12 today, wanna bet it’s them?” Jae informed you, listening as the sound grew louder. As expected, when the two of you turned the corner you were nearly hit by the pair.

"Jae! Y/N!" Dowoon greeted happily. He went in for a hug while Younghyun's just smiled awkwardly... Weird. Jae almost immediately noticed the fox-like boy's vibe was far off.

You greeted them from Jae's side, obviously noticing Younghyun's demeanour also. After about 2 minutes of making plans to meet later in the week, the boys went on their way.

"What's up with Younghyun?" You asked, gazing up to meet Jae's eyes as soon as the two were out of ear-shot. Jae could only shrug in response with a puzzled expression. "Maybe his crush didn't text him back," is all he could say, but he noticed the worry on your face didn't fade one bit. He really loved that you put so much effort into getting to know his friends and caring about them, but he didn't want this to cloud your thoughts.

"I'm sure he'll tell us in the morning, you know how he is." Jae smiled, kissing you gently on the forehead. You'd finally arrived at his dormitory and he ran inside to get his board. Jae's mind raced as he rushed around his room to grab a scarf and some bandaids incase you fell (or he did). He also couldn't get Younghyun out of his head.

He returned to you with an apologetic smile, taking your hand in his. "Are you ready for this?"

You both placed your boards down and Jae positioned himself infront of you on the flat concrete outside of the dorm. He tried to explain the stance you should take and any precautions because the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He'd spent hours looking for a decent board for you, altering it for the best control and he was beyond nervous. Jae watched as you had your first attempt, biting his lip nervously before a wide grin spread. You moved slowly, and your body wobbled despite him holding your arm (and you holding onto him with a death grip). However, it was adorable watching his girl taking enough interest in his hobbies like this, and you were trying so hard!

Jae could watch the grin that spread across your face when you passed each milestone on replay. The way you laughed every time you fell, and the way you poked fun at him whenever he fell was all too much like the dreams he'd had. You, Him, a freezing cold night, skating. His heart was full.

Skating represented Jae well. Whenever you stood on the board it felt so unstable, but when you kicked off it felt safer each time. That's kinda how you felt with Jae. At first he seemed too chill, too much like he didn't really mind life passing by for your taste. However, as time went by you learnt that he did care, he was surprisingly organised (spreadsheets for days) and his main goal was to make you feel happy, loved and safe.

Just like the feeling of your cheeks going numb from the cold and the laughter that came with it, Jae's love felt like that. Like a cold night that didn't matter, because you had each other.

Jae had fallen off about 3 times already, although he successfully performed an ollie after 10 attempts ("I swear I've done this 100s of times before!"), and you had laughed so hard that your voice grew hoarse. Which meant one thing, and one thing only. Time for a good old macca's run and some alcohol. Exactly how 2 college students should spend a saturday night.

"Y/N, I think you're making me an alcoholic." Jae laughed, pinching your cheeks in a teasing motion. The two of you sat once again on your rooms floor, listening to 88rising and making comments every so often. "Jae, we both know you're the bad influence here! Look!" You giggled, reaching out to point at the small plaster on his knee as an excuse to steal another fry from his McDonald's bag. Jae looked as if he was about to protest, before quickly diving in to steal a nugget from you.

And for the rest of the night you caught up on everything and anything, stole a lot of food from each other and drank a bit too much. (Which of course meant you spent 20 minutes just laughing at each other hard out because Jae tried to imitate a spider).

30 notes · View notes

itsuki-minamy · 4 years

Text

“K - THE FIRST STORY” (Novel)

CHAPTER 1: THE BOY NAMED ISANA YASHIRO (Part 3)

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

* Prologue / Chapter 1 (Part 01 / 02)

The boy spread his arms and legs and stretched.

"Japan is a peaceful country."

He feels sleepy and tired.

The boy who swims between reality and dreams saw a golden light in the dark.

Who is…?

A very tall man was in the golden light. An old man with a strict gaze. He has a hard body and his back is straight. An old man with terrifying intimidation and terrifying atmosphere, but the boy felt the nostalgic light of his light.

The old man opened his mouth.

"This country is over, Weissmann."

It was a heavy voice. It was like scolding and begging for something.

Suddenly, he hears someone laugh.

When he noticed, there was a man in his twenties and a white man who had long silver hair on his back and was smiling mysteriously.

Looking at the silver-haired man, the boy felt as if his head was shaking.

This is different from nostalgia. However, the intense sensation of seeing and discomfort builds up, making the lower stomach feel uncomfortable.

Quickly, the boy opened his eyes.

On the rooftop of the school, it seems that the boy had a strange dream at this time.

He was suddenly surprised by what happened, but the kitten who had curled up due to the boy's weakness, withdrew.

"Now... what did you say?"

The boy asked the kitten that way, but the kitten tilts its neck.

It is not surprising. There is no way for a cat to speak. First of all, this is just a dream.

The boy was able to fight for a fortune in a strange dream that was different from the sad dream it did not remember this morning.

He returned to the classroom at the last minute of class, but everyone in the classroom was humming with their thoughts, and it wasn't as if the class was starting soon. The boy bows his head.

"How about class?"

Mishina, who was working in the front seat, has an astonished face.

“Preparation for the school festival in the afternoon. Work hard!"

That was. It was less than a week before the school festival. The Ashinaka School festival, commonly known as Gakuen Island, which is a gigantic school, is a festival that literally lists the entire island, and the budget and enthusiasm are enormous.

To ensure that no one other than relevant persons can enter and exit the school island, you cannot enter inside the island gate without a student pass or a staff pass installed on the PDA. It is a mechanism that remains. However, on the day of the festival, the door will open and visitors from outside freely.

The Ashinaka School Festival is not just a school festival; it is also a great event that the general public outside the school is looking forward to.

All of the students took the school festival seriously with the goal of not only creating their own memories but also entertaining the people, and in December, when the school festival is held, there were often days when internal students were given allowed preparation work until midnight.

The fact that the school festival is held in December is a little different, but this is because the school festival on Gakuen Island is held at the same time as the annual shrine festival on the island.

The boy looked around the classroom. Everyone seems to be busy practicing theater, making costumes, combining costumes, and various gatherings. When he was watching the scene without help, Kukuri quickly entered.

"Hey, someone asked me to use student council! We are recruiting people who are free!”

Kukuri raises her hand and recruit’s volunteers. Although there is a small natural place, Kukuri, who is a solid, cheerful and kind person, is a member of the student council and everyone can trust her.

In the eyes of the classmates who worked, she walked over to the boy holding a kitten. If you are a leisure person, stay here, everyone's eyes said.

Go to a downtown store to collect fireworks for the event. Even if he rushes from Gakuen Island, it takes over an hour to get to the center of Shizume-cho. Certainly, he was the right one to go as he currently has no job.

Kukuri operates the mission, makes the purchase note, and hands it to the boy.

"Then Shiro, I will send you a note."

The boy thought he would say that and smiled. By the way, what happened to his PDA? He feels like he hasn’t seen it recently.

He looked in his pocket, but couldn't find it. Does he leave it in the bedroom or did he lose it? The boy is not in the habit of playing with his PDA, so he is not in the habit of carrying it.

"Don't you have a PDA?"

Kukuri rolled her eyes. The boy somehow makes a fake smile. Kukuri feels it is a bit strange, but says, "Well, I'll write it down on paper." However, on the way, he realized that...

"Oh, I can't leave school without first looking for it to use."

The pass to enter and exit the Gakuen Island gate is on the PDA designated by the school and that each student has. At school, the PDA serves as an identification card.

However, the boy did not remember wearing it these days. The boy is familiar with the secret passageways at school.

Security seems to be disabled, but the boy knew that even if he didn't have a PDA, he could do anything.

Taking the memo from Kukuri, who had a worried face, the boy laughed and said, "Ok."

The boy has many friends on Gakuen Island, although the relationship is wide and shallow.

There were many "friends" among teachers and staff, as well as among students.

Teachers who are taking lessons directly can be the best people if they really care about a particular student, (Still, old school teachers tend to listen to the boy's requests.) Staff, other than teachers, like security guards thought the boy was like a stray cat.

That is why the boy walked out of the school, not through the gate, but through the guard station. He laughed and said, "I don't use it for long, but I lost my things." The man said, "Please order another one again soon."

Even with good security, there are places where a person tends to be able to pass.

The boy was walking on the bridge connecting Gakuen Island and the mainland, reviewing the shopping notes with the kitten on his shoulder.

All travelers and those on the main island use monorails that pass under the connecting bridge, which is primarily for vehicles and few people walk on foot. However, you need a PDA to travel on the monorail. The connecting bridge is long to walk on foot, but the boy liked to walk on the bridge looking at the sea.

Illuminated by the falling sunlight, the sea is blue and glowing.

The boy leaned on his side and watched the landscape from the bridge. A gentle breeze blows with the scent of the tide, making the boy's hair flutter.

It was a beautiful and calm sight.

Suddenly he feels like staying there forever.

Good weather. Soft breeze. A kitten that clings to his shoulders, and has many bright and fun friends on the way home.

What is here and now seemed calm and terribly difficult to find.

He wondered if something smelled bad about it.

He smiles at his thoughts and is yelled at that he is in the process of being used. He must collect the fireworks she ordered and get a receipt at Shizume-cho, and he must return at six o'clock.

++++++++++

A young man was sitting on top of the building.

He is called "black dog". It is a popular name that sounds like a derogatory name, but he is proud to be the servant of a "King", so he is proud of himself.

Her long black hair in a ponytail flutters in the wind.

Shizume-cho's bustle extends below him.

He saw a boy trying to cross a crowded intersection.

A 16 or 17-year-old boy with a little pink kitten on his shoulder. He's small and has a soft girlish look, with an atmosphere that won't warn anyone.

But…

He saw a guy with a red shirt and a cap who was walking away from the boy with the umbrella a little and made his way through the crowd. The conscience of the guy in the hat is completely directed towards the boy with the umbrella, and his expression is disgusting. Probably a "Homura" member. It's a bad job as a follower, but the umbrella boy doesn't seem to notice.

Looking up at the boys from a height, he took his precious recorder out of his pocket and pressed the play button. The recorder is an important treasure that preserves the voice of his late master and guides his actions.

"The king's shadow lights up."

A deep, slightly bright voice is heard from the recorder. He closed his eyes and listened to the voice.

The boy with the umbrella walks with an unprotected face. Well, he was quiet walking around Shizume-cho city. He doesn't know if the boy has something to think about or if he's dumb.

He put his hand on the sword at his waist. The famous sword "Kotowari" entrusted by his master. He draws that sword only when he fulfills the orders of his master.

"Please look, Ichigen-sama."

He murmured to pray and stood up.

++++++++++

The boy received the fireworks that the student council had ordered at a fireworks store called "Kadamaya" in Shizume-cho. Mainly fireworks, but there are some weird types too, and it was quite interesting that the store owner lectured him on how to use them.

He leaves the store with the receipt received from Kukuri.

There is still time until dusk. Even if he deviated a bit, it looks like he'll be back at six o'clock, and when the boy started walking, something loud was heard slipping on the ground behind him.

When he looked back, he saw a young man on a skateboard hitting a metal bat and approaching.

"Eh?"

The boy opened his eyes and made his thoughts and body stiff for a moment. He visually saw the metal bat swinging toward his head, the stiffness of his body dissolving before he thinks, and he jumps with a reflex.

The downed metal bat destroys the storefront, and the desks and products placed in the store were crushed and scattered.

The boy like a fluffy rice cake on the way was surprised, looking at the young man who swung the metal bat.

A young man who looks like a high school student, wearing a knit hat and a red hoodie around his waist.

He put his foot on the skateboard, put the metal bat on his shoulder, looked back slowly and observed the boy who was confused.

What? What is happening? He wanted to ask, but suddenly the words don't come out of the boy's throat.

The young man on the skateboard manipulates a clock-shaped device on his arm and projects a screen in the air. Carefully compare the boy's face to something projected there and he laughed violently.

"Eh?"

The boy smiled with a cheat, but felt the aggressive will that was near the murder surging from the skateboard guy's body, and he stood up.

Not good. Perhaps this person does not speak. He means, he's so angry he won't have ears.

However, he is not a demon. He doesn't know why, but this young man with a skateboard is angry at "Isana Yashiro".

Why?

The boy tried to engage in boring dialogue while slowly backing away.

"Oh, what is that so sudden? I don't think you have any reason to hit me.”

The skateboarder's brow furrows. That's not good. The boy wanted to cover his face when he responded by pouring oil on the fire. On his shoulders, a kitten clings to the boy with its claws, escaping from the young man on a skateboard.

"Don't you remember being hit? You are brave, shit. So is. I will not stop.”

The body of the young man on the skateboard seemed to sway in red.

The boy scratches his eyes. It is not an error. A bright red light bursts from the young man's body.

When the boy stepped back, the red light appeared, enveloping the young man on the skateboard. Hot. The boy's bangs are slightly burned. The overflowing red light turned into a flame and filled he.

“It's not enough just to catch you. I'll kill you!"

The young man on the skateboard screamed and kicked the ground. He jumps high with his skateboard and shakes the red flame at the boy.

The boy screamed miserably and started running at full speed.

The young man on the skateboard lightly brushes the boy's hair. The sound of the street being destroyed, the explosion and the heat entering from behind, but there is no room to look back.

The boy ran to death.

Run between pedestrians and obstacles, cross the railings and choose a stepped street, he can run on routes that are difficult to ride a skateboard.

He couldn't even pretend and jump onto the street, and he fell onto the back of a truck that stopped at the signal.

With the truck that started to work, he managed to catch his breath.

The kitten looked up at his knees with its front paws. The boy strokes his head.

To be continued soon... Be patient, I will translate the chapter little by little.

#k #k project #k the first story #Isana Yashiro #Yatogami Kuroh #yata misaki #homra #novel

32 notes · View notes