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#“or wait 2 hours after school in some bushes just for see how I rejected a student that had deployed fellings for me”
dermy-der-demp · 10 months
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does everyone ever think about how funny and weird must be the conversations of pk teachers ?
like they're discussing what's the best class and when matsuzaki said that he thinks is saiki's class (I don't remember what was lol) all the other teachers look him with noting but fear and confusion
And he's like "the problematic class with the depressed,anxious,weird and queer kids? Yup that's the best"
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emersonfreepress · 3 years
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ok ok in the spirit of community, how would the ros fair in a paintball war?
(referring to this ask! like the zombie au post this ended up making me think a lot 😅)
ohh... interesting, interesting... p sure the only paintball wars i’ve really seen were the ones featured in The League, Peep Show, and Community... but let me wrack my lil head...
ok, i ended up coming at this from multiple angles like the zombie au post 😅 always so much to consider in battle environments! and in the spirit of community, I'll stick with the individual player elimination style paintball match. in the woods with other e prep seniors. last one standing wins bragging rights
Gabe
Shooting skill | 6/10 - Experience with shooting and practice with Kile ofc
Stealthiness | 8/10 - He's done a fair amount of sneaking around during his after school activities, is super observant (or just paranoid lol), and naturally light on his feet. Good luck ambushing him.
Strategy | 8/10 - Strike deals. Do favors. Form alliances. Shoot 'em in the back once they’ve outlived their usefulness. ...What? It’s just paintball.
How does he win? | Graciously. Gabe likes winning, and especially via strategic manipulation, so it puts a smile on his face. And he's in a good mood so he treats a bunch of you to ice cream or smth 👀
How does he lose? | Slumps in frustration at being outwitted or taken off-guard, sulks about it for a little while. He's not that sore of a loser but needs time to lick his wounds and stop thinking of the different choices he could have made.
Kile
Shooting | 9 - The most accurate shooter of the cast and easily one of the best shots at E Prep. Lots of practice + talent
Stealth | 10 - They're stupid good at climbing trees and 100% consider that a valid method of ambushing their classmates. People start having flashbacks to 3rd and 4th grade recess and P.E. Scanning the trees. They just start taking people out with such efficiency it quickly starts ruining the game 😂
Strategy | 0? 10?? - “...Strategy? You just stay out of sight and kill 'em all, right?” (immediately scolded by Gabe for word choice 🙄) They really do mainly stay out of sight and pick people off with max stealth, like 😆 they'd be such a terror, people would need to take them out early for anyone else to stand a chance! They spend a lot of the game staking out the most frequented paths in the area and taking out groups quickly, all at once. Then they'll get around to stalking and picking people off one by one. The real fun...
Winner type | Stoic. Likes winning combat but the stakes were non-existent, so... the win is meaningless! this just infuriates the losers more 😅 such disrespect
Loser type | Sucks their teeth and tosses their paintball gun to the ground. "Y'all suck." (they're over it five mins later tho lol)
Jack
Shooting | 3 - This is nothing like shooting light guns... ☹️
Stealth | 5 - Not just due to his size making him an easier target, but homeboy is liable to get distracted by a cute squirrel or some pretty flowers 😂 He's not great at keeping his voice down either so good conversation would make him easy to seek out. He's just out here enjoying a beautiful day 😅
Strategy | 7 - All that movie-watching (and DMing) make him a valuable creative mind for problem-solving, but he needs a cooperative team to be effective. Rescued and recruited by Rupan/Rohan early on in the game ^ ^
Winner type | Disbelief! And everyone’s content and satisfied with him winning. Except Vivian/Vincent, that jealous fool
Loser type | Doesn't mind losing at all! He just hopes he was a good teammate and was glad to have fun ☺️
Jessie
Shooting | 7 - Comes from a family of hunters, girly knows how to shoot.
Stealth | 6 - Familiar enough with woods and stalking prey to be capable of sneaking around. Having too much fun to not giggle and get overly invested in the developing plot of the game. Even more easily distracted by critters and flora than Jack 😅
Strategy | 5 - Oh, she's just here to have fun. She'll go with whatever the person she's teaming up with decides, but can adapt easily enough.
Winner type | Surprised... then elated! Bouncing and happy and it's completely contagious. No hard feelings about a single thing. Convinces Heidi to invite people to the Emerson Estate—it's a hot day and they have a nice pool
Loser type | Same as Jack! Congratulates the winner with a hug because she's sweet like that 🧁
Rain
Shooting | 2 - This... thing is so cumbersome. And ugly. At least it shoots pretty colors.
Stealth | 7 - Small and used to sneaking around different environments and seeking out hiding spots. Their height and frame makes them harder to spot too.
Strategy | 4 - Hide!!! They’re not getting assaulted with paint and pellets!! Especially not after managing to make this ugly jumpsuit look cute?? Waiting it out is perfectly legitimate. Might share snacks if you decide to join them in hiding 😆
Winner type | Falls asleep in an unexpectedly cozy hiding spot and emerges as everyone thought they’d declared the winner. I imagine R and others yelling at them to get their gun while the original winner scrambles to get theirs, just for Rain to win by pure luck of the draw. Won’t stop them bragging about it, though! (I want this spurned runner-up to be Vi bc ofc)
Loser type | "So I can stop holding this thing?" Yawn. "I'm so hungry and bored, we've been at this for hours..."
Rupan/Rohan
Shooting | 4 - Ah, shit. These don't shoot anything like light guns.
Stealth | 7 - They sneak out and around town a lot 😂 They just force themself to be careful about how loud grass and bushes are.
Strategy | 7 - They’re treating this shit like an action movie and banding together a ragtag team of misfits to take down the strongest alliances and players. Savvy enough to reject Gabe’s and Curt’s offers to join, not opposed to strategic backstabs. They're very clearly just as focused on having fun as they are on winning—and playing Predator, which honestly works with Kile runnin around. They even brought war paint and borrowed a tactical vest. Is it mostly packed with snacks and weed? Maybe. Does it prove useful for negotiations? Hell yeah.
Winner type | Raucous celebration, just pure joy and adrenaline ☺️ Celebrates with their team, brags a bit, rubs it into Vi's face, makes fun of Curt, the usual. Then invites allies out to get pizza because it's the obvious next step
Loser type | Mostly disappointed they can't keep playing. They're a little sore about being left out of the action, but soon just start chatting with other marked players about how the game went for them. Plenty entertaining on its own, they want all the details
Vivian/Vincent
Shooting | 5 - They've got a little bit of shooting experience.
Stealth | 4 - They're overly sensitive and hate being in nature. Their skin is sticky, they keep feeling bugs everywhere, they've gotten dirt all over their pants, it's so hot, they keep WALKING into SPIDERWEBS, [flails about, screaming furiously]
Strategy | 8 - They have good ideas, they're just difficult to execute alone, especially since they're getting sunburnt and getting crankier and can't stop swatting at insects 😅 they're one of the first people to figure out that someone's taking out groups from the trees, so they stay solo and try to find a single person to team up with. Really what they need is someone who's a better shot but easy to boss around. They can probably just owe them for an in-school favor...
Winner type | Barely suppressed gloating. Vi somehow finds a way to be an obnoxious winner almost entirely by the look on their face. Once they're in a smaller group, they're passionately discussing the details of the game and happily boasting about their triumphs (while glossing over all of the whining and and slip-ups lol)
Loser type | Booo, such a sore loser. (Especially in the scenario where Rain wins 🤣) If they're outsmarted or outgunned in a clear, transparent way they'll growl and stomp off, then quietly glower and sulk for way too long. If they're double-crossed or beaten in an underhanded way oh lord —they're fighting it to the end. R can't help but get involved either way, reminding them it was a damn game with literally no prize. "C'mon, Vi, chill. You want ice cream? Let's get you ice cream."
Heidi
Shooting | 6 - Some shooting experience.
Stealth | 8 - She's very aware of her surroundings and her body. Perceptive yet quiet. Tactical. All residual traits picked up from her many activities over the years.
Strategy | 9 - Most likely to outsmart everyone. The first one to figure out groups are being targeted from the trees. Goes it alone and only open to trading (unless she sees Curt with Jess in which case she puts a quick pin in her plans to rescue her 😂). She also immediately figures out it's Kile, because ofc it is. Keeps close tabs on what groups are doing, knowing that eventually Kile will come down to ground level to pick off individuals and couples. Predator becomes prey 👀
Winner type | Proud but not boasting. She doesn't need to be. Victory looks good on her, natural and fitting. Thanks everyone for a good game then takes the girls for a long ride in the Cadillac 😎 top down on a bright day, baby
Loser type | Damn. She should have won this. Maybe if she'd... She probably could have... Then she snaps out of it, roped in by the celebratory mood of congratulating the winner. She's over any feelings of frustration or regret after getting to discuss the match with the person that took her out/the winner and there's no hard feelings. If anything this was fun as hell, it should be an annual thing. ☺️
Curt
Shooting | 8 - Some shooting experience and a natural knack for it. Good reflexes.
Stealth | 8 - Curt likes to say he gets along with the woods around these parts. Sneaking around is second nature to him. Really good hearing too. He's an easy target if you manage to seduce him though, having no issue leaving himself vulnerable if it means that kind of fun 😂
Strategy | 7 - Honestly, he's most interested in seeing how long he can get away with using charm and seduction for both protection and double-crossing 😂 Eventually becomes persona non grata and gets all of his ammo stolen by a vengeful mark, barely getting away in the process. Since that jig is up, he finally starts thinking a win might be nice... and so he teams up with the only competent player who would never betray him and also inspires the least vitriol in others: Jessie. What? Is his back-up plan using her as a human shield? No! 😚 Of course not! 👉👈
Winner type | Insufferable and gloating. Rubs it in a lot of people's faces, specifically Heidi, Rupan/Rohan, and any participants who genuinely don't like him. Brags to Gabe (who is completely disinterested in gassing him up 😂), then promises he'll make things up to Jessie (who didn't mind and had fun lol). Then celebrates by asking whoever he's flirting with these days for a quick date—and a ride in the Ferrari. Makes a scene pulling out of the parking lot. Ass.
Loser type | Doesn't care one bit as long as he had fun! And he always finds a way to have fun, it's why he's so carefree 😅
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pocket-luv101 · 3 years
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Heartstrings || Chapter 3
Fandom: Servamp Ship: KuroMahi (main), LawLicht (side), Tetsono (side) Characters: Kuro, Mahiru, Hyde, Licht, Tetsu, Misono
Summary: Kuro goes to take a nap in the staircase behind the school and sees Mahiru holding a broken guitar. After he helps him repair the guitar string, Mahiru asks him to teach him how to play. (Given AU/Band AU)
Ch.1 || Ch.2 || (Ch.3) ||
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“Are you okay, Kuro? You seem distracted.” Hyde asked his brother. Due to Kuro’s personality, others wouldn’t question why he was silent throughout most of their rehearsal. He could sense that there was something on his brother’s mind though. Kuro didn’t immediately answer him so Hyde thought he could teasingly joke with him. “Did you get rejected by someone?”
“Something like that.” He didn’t take his eyes off his guitar as he absentmindedly answered Hyde. Kuro played a few random notes and tried to match them to the song he would often hear Mahiru hum. After he listened to him sing in the staircase, he asked him if he wanted to join his band. They needed a vocalist and his alluring voice would fit their sound well.
He hadn’t expected him to say no. He thought of how persistent and passionate Mahiru was whenever he asked him how to play the guitar. Kuro assumed that he was interested in music. He was more surprised by the rejection he felt by his answer. He only joined the band as a favour for his brother but he didn’t care about success. Something about Mahiru’s song struck him though.
He wondered if he would see him in the staircase on Monday. What would he say if he was there? The first day he met Mahiru in the staircase, Kuro was disappointed that he couldn’t sleep in his hiding place. He found himself looking forward to their short meetings now. He wanted to know more about Mahiru and to hear the song he constantly hummed.
“Nii-san!” Hyde’s voice overpowered his guitar and pulled Kuro out of his thoughts. He stood behind Kuro and shook his shoulders. “I’ve been calling your name for the last five minutes but you wouldn’t answer me! I thought Tetsu was the one with his head constantly in the clouds. Oh, never mind that. You said you were rejected! By who? I didn’t know you were interested in someone. Tell me who.”
“Shut up, Shit Rat. I can’t hear my piano when you’re yelling like that. This is supposed to be a rehearsal so gossip after we’re done.” Licht kicked Hyde to stop him from bombarding him with more questions. Admittedly, he was also a little curious about who Kuro had confessed to. He had joined the band only a month before but he saw how he acted uninterested towards most things.
When Hyde first asked if they could join the band, Licht was against it. The brothers were clearly talented but they played half-heartedly. He started the band because Misono told him about his childhood friend and he wanted to help him reconnect to music. Such half-hearted feelings wouldn’t reach his friend. In the end, Misono invited them to join the band and Licht could only accept his decision.
“I didn’t ask anyone on a date. I only asked Mahiru to become our vocalist.” He insisted. He was being truthful but a part of Kuro felt as if there was something he was hiding from his brother. Pushing aside the confusing feeling, he added: “Mahiru sang a little bit for me and his voice was beautiful. He’s always asking me about music so I thought I would be interested in joining. He said no.”
“Is this the Mahiru that Tetsu told me about? He watched your rehearsal last week.” Misono hadn’t spoken with his friend since he moved to a new school. Despite how often Mahiru helped him when they were children, he wasn’t able to do the same for him. He held the guilt for years but he told himself that he would face him again after he created a band.
When Tetsu told him that Mahiru watched their band and how he wanted to learn how to play the guitar. He thought that he might’ve moved on. Yet, it was clearly more complicated. Music was important to Mahiru and Misono didn’t want to see him give it up.
“Big Brother Neko, this article might help you. I searched up what you should do.” Tetsu held out his phone to Kuro so he could read the screen. He read the title and his face became bright red.
“This is an article about how to ask out a girl after she rejects you. I said that isn’t what happened at all. Can’t deal.” Kuro pushed the phone back into Tetsu’s hand. He doubted the tall student had intended to tease him with the article but he couldn’t stop himself from bushing. He didn’t understand why he would feel so flustered over the misunderstanding.
“Maybe you should actually take the article’s advice and ask Mahiru on another date to see our band. I want to hear him sing.” His brother was an introvert and he didn’t have a lot of friends. Hyde was curious about Mahiru and what made his brother interested in him. He appeared to be a simple student when they met at the rehearsal last week.
“You give terrible dating advice, Shit Rat. Mahiru will think Kuro’s annoying if he keeps asking him out even though he already said no. I don’t know how you’re able to find a new girlfriend each week.” Licht rolled his eyes at the brothers. “You’re half-hearted with romance, music and school. Is there anything that you’re actually interested in?”
A devilish smile spread across Hyde’s face and he winked at him. He didn’t say a single word and that irritated Licht more than any answer he could give. He jumped to his feet and his hand slammed on his electric keyboard harder than he intended. A cluster of angry notes echoed around the room. The sound reminded Licht that he shouldn’t fight Hyde with so many delicate instruments around them.
“I’m going to the bathroom.” Licht said and walked out of the studio room. The others could see that he was angry and they thought it would be pointless to talk to him before he calmed down. The only one who chased after him was Hyde.
Kuro watched them leave and shook his head. While the two would often argue with each other and have their disagreements, they didn’t appear to hate each other. “Those two need to be better at communicating with each other.”
“Speaking of communicating,” Misono said to Kuro. “Did you ask Mahiru why he doesn’t want to be our vocalist? Maybe you should talk to him about it without pushing.”
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The lunch bell rang and Mahiru put away his books into his backpack. His eyes drifted to Kuro who sat a few desks in front of him. He was sleeping at his desk with his hood over his head. They texted each other over the weekend but their conversations had been short. He wanted to talk with him more but he was afraid he would become awkward if their conversation drifted to the topic of music.
Mahiru had planned to wait to see whether Kuro would go to talk with him again but it appeared that he would spend his lunch sleeping at his desk. Kuro had complimented his voice and asked him to be the singer of his band. His words made Mahiru’s heart flutter and tighten at the same time. He was happy that Kuro liked his singing yet he always felt sad when someone asked him to sing. He couldn’t have known the effect his request would have and Mahiru didn’t want to lose their new friendship over the question.
Mahiru took a deep breath before he crossed the room to Kuro’s desk. He lightly tapped on his shoulder to wake him and he groaned in response. The yawn he made sounded like a grumpy cat and laughter escaped Mahiru. His voice woke Kuro and he turned his head from where it was hidden in his arm. He was surprised to find Mahiru kneeling next to his desk.
“You shouldn’t be sleeping in class, Kuro. The teacher has given up on waking you up every few minutes but that’s not a good thing.” Mahiru lectured him and leaned against his desk. “During lunch, my friends on the soccer team will be running around the track to improve their endurance during lunch. He invited me to join him and hang out. I was hoping you’ll come with me. You slept for a good hour so you must have a lot of energy.”
Kuro hadn’t expected him to invite him to spend time with him outside of the staircase. He would only ask him to teach him how to play the guitar. Even though he didn’t like sports or exercise, Kuro nodded and stood from his desk. His silent answer made Mahiru’s face beam with a smile. The moment he put on his guitar case and stood next to him, he took Kuro’s hand and pulled him out of the classroom.
“I’m glad that you agreed so quickly, Kuro. I thought I would have to bribe you into exercising with food or something. Since I always pack too much food for myself, I’ll still share some with you. I like to cook but I rarely have a chance to share it with someone.” Mahiru led him down the hall. “Do you want to race to see who’s faster?”
“We both know that you’ll win. Please, don’t make this poor kitty run, Mahiru. I would rather just walk around the track with you anyways.” He said casually but Mahiru’s eyes widened slightly. Then, his expression softened and he nodded with a laugh. “After I spend the lunch period running, I’ll sleep through the rest of school. I hope you’re ready to take responsibility for that.”
“I don’t mind if it’s you.” He knew that Kuro was only joking with him so he flirted back. Mahiru doubted he had expected him to do so from the blush that rose onto Kuro’s neck. He chuckled lightly and then walked to the doors leading outside.
They walked outside and Mahiru enjoyed the cool breeze. He liked spending time with him in the staircase but going outside was a fun change of pace. He spotted his friend on the track field and he waved to him. Kuro saw the amount of people on the field and he hesitated slightly. Even though he was accustomed to crowds when his bands played at venues, he wasn’t the best with people.
Mahiru noticed how Kuro’s steps slowed slightly and looked up at him. He took his large hand into his and squeezed it lightly. He could feel the calluses on his fingers. “Mafuyu and the others are really nice and I’m sure you’ll get along with them. Don’t worry about feeling awkward. You don’t have any trouble talking with me so focus on that.”
“I wasn’t afraid of talking with people but the running. The track field is bigger than I thought it would be.” He said and shrugged. Mahiru’s reassurance made him feel more comfortable. He had a lot of fun simple talking with him and his presence could make running the track bearable. Kuro wondered how his siblings would react if they saw him with the soccer team.
They crossed the school yard together and Mahiru introduced him to his friends. Kuro put down his bag on the ground and leaned his guitar case against it so people wouldn’t step on it accidentally. He expected Mahiru to place his own guitar in the pile of bags. Instead, he walked onto the track and motioned for him to run with him. The guitar wasn’t heavy but it would be tiring to carry it everywhere.
He could guess that Mahiru had his reasons to keep the guitar so close to him. He didn’t want to push him by asking him why. Kuro joined him on the track field and they began to run side by side. The guitar on his back would make the jog difficult so he matched his pace with Mahiru’s. The soccer team quickly passed them and a gap formed between them.
“I’m really happy that you came with me today.” Mahiru told Kuro and smiled up at him. “For a minute, I was worried that you wouldn’t. Your band needs a singer but I said no to your invitation. You even offered to teach me how to play the guitar in exchange. I don’t think I’ll be the right person for your band though Can we still be friends? We can hang out on the track field like this.”
“I’m not upset that you said no.” He said and Mahiru let out a breath of relief. “But I don’t know if I can survive running around the track every day. Maybe we can do something more relaxing instead. I’ll teach you how to play your guitar after school. That’s less troublesome than running.”
Mahiru stopped and frowned at him. “I said I didn’t want to be a singer.”
“I don’t mind. I’ll still teach you. Playing the guitar is important to you and that’s something a friend should support.” Kuro faced him and said, “You can pay me for the lesson with food. You’re always talking about how you’re a good cook and I’m a little curious.”
He was almost knocked off his feet when Mahiru threw his arms around his neck. Kuro wrapped his arms around his waist and he managed to keep them from falling to the ground. He looked down at Mahiru and their eyes met. His brown eyes were overflowing with happiness and he never thought a sight could make his heart race. They were so close and he worried he would be able to hear his heartbeat. Mahiru cupped his face and smiled. “Thank you, Kuro.”
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Kuro and Mahiru would meet in the staircase to play their guitars. He had told him that he wanted to play a particular song so he taught him how to read music sheets. The song he wanted to play didn’t have music sheets for him to reference but it helped structure the song in his head. Over the past few days, he learned so much from Kuro.
Mahiru sat on a park bench and waited for Kuro to arrive. Since it was Friday and he needed to practise with his band after school, they agreed to meet in the nearby park around eight. There were a few minutes before he should arrive so he decided to practise the chords he showed him the previous day. He took out the notes Kuro had made for him.
Kuro gave him a notebook filled with drawings of the finger position to play each note. The notebook also held other advice to help him practise while he was home. Mahiru could tell that the notebook was new and the pages warmed his heart. He acted reluctant to teach him but it was clear he cared from the effort he put into the notebook.
“Sorry, I’m late.” He heard Kuro’s voice across the park and he looked up to see him. He was out of breath when he collapsed onto the bench next to him. “I agreed to teach you how to play the guitar so I could avoid exercising but I ended up running a mile anyways. Can’t deal. Our rehearsal ended up longer than usual because Tetsu broke his guitar stick. That kid is too strong.”
“I can picture something like that.” Mahiru laughed at the image. He considered waiting at the music shop but he didn’t want to distract the band while they practised. He handed a water bottle to Kuro and said, “You didn’t need to run. I wasn’t waiting here for long. Do you think we should go to the music shop to practise? It looks like the sun will be setting sooner than usual.”
Kuro tilted his head back to the side where the sun was slowly descending from the sky. “We should have an hour before it gets too dark to play. I showed you a few chords yesterday. When I started teaching myself how to play the guitar, I just memorized the chords and went from there. I don’t know if you’ll be the same as me though. Are there any that you’re having trouble with any of them?”
“The drawings you gave me have been helpful but I’m having trouble with his one chord. My hands feel uncomfortable when I play it and it doesn’t sound right.” Mahiru adjusted his position on the park bench so he was facing Kuro. He placed his fingers on the strings where he had marked in the notebook and strummed the guitar. “It sounds flat, doesn’t it?”
“Don’t place your finger directly on the fret but behind it a little. You’ll probably be more comfortable if you use your ring finger and middle finger here instead. Hold still.” He slowly moved his fingers into the correct position. Kuro noticed how small and soft his hands were. Without thinking, he stroked his thumb over Mahiru’s fingers. “You haven’t built up any callouses yet so playing will hurt for a while. It’ll eventually get better though. If you start bleeding, I have bandages.”
His fingers were a little swollen from the metal strings but Mahiru didn’t feel the dull pain. His focus was on Kuro’s tender touch running over his fingers. Mahiru noticed that Kuro’s hands were slightly larger than his and he wondered what would happen if he held it. He knew that Kuro was only sitting close to him to help him with his technique but there was a small flutter in his stomach.
“Try playing the chord now and see if it feels better.” His voice pulled Mahiru out of his thoughts and he nodded to hide that he was distracted. He strummed the strings and watched for Kuro’s reaction in the corner of his gaze. He had a subtle smile as he ruffled his brown hair. “That sounds better. Once you feel comfortable with all of the chords, we can work on putting them together to play a song.”
“Will you stop playing with my hair, Kuro?” Mahiru pouted and smoothed his hair back into place.
They returned to playing the guitar and Kuro would give him advice occasionally. He had given him a few lessons over the week and he was surprised by how quickly he had progressed. Kuro sat back and watched Mahiru repeat the same chord. He wasn’t bored because he enjoyed watching the joy in Mahiru’s face as he played.
A string of claps broke through the moment and Kuro turned towards the person. He didn’t recognize the brunette man but there was something familiar about him. The man seemed to know Mahiru though. “I was going to surprise you by coming home early but you’re the one who surprised me. I never thought I would see that guitar again.”
Mahiru nodded and then he hastily placed the guitar back into its case as if he was hiding a secret. “I thought you were out of town with work, Uncle. You should’ve texted me if you were going to come back early. I made plans to eat at a restaurant with Kuro. I would’ve cooked something if I knew we could have a family dinner.”
“It’s okay, Mahiru. I already had dinner with my co-workers so you don’t need to worry about your old man.” He said. Kuro watched the two interact and he reasoned that the man was Mahiru’s uncle. He had told him of how he was adopted. “I know boys probably don’t want to hear something like this but you look just like your mother. You both have the same smile when you play the guitar. I’m glad that I could see it again. Why didn’t you tell me you were learning how to play?”
“I’m sorry, Uncle. I can’t talk about it right now.” Mahiru whispered. Before anyone could react, Mahiru jumped to his feet and dashed away from them. Kuro was confused by the way he suddenly ran away but he immediately ran after him.
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Mahiru ran blindly through the sparse street without a destination in mind. He couldn’t face his uncle after he saw him with the guitar that didn’t belong to him. He was in a desperate haze and he didn’t hear Kuro call his name behind him. The only thing that forced him to stop was his legs giving way under him. He didn’t know how long or far he ran but the weight of emotions made him exhausted.
He thought he would fall forward but then strong arms wrapped around him from behind. Kuro’s embrace kept him from falling. Mahiru turned his face slightly to Kuro but he couldn’t see his expression because his forehead was leaned against his shoulder. He could feel his heavy breathing against his neck. He was afraid that Kuro would judge him for his reaction to his uncle’s innocent question. Others would call him emotional or dramatic for running away.
“Are you okay?” Kuro whispered against his skin and it sent a warm shiver throughout Mahiru. He leaned back against his chest and absentmindedly plucked at his guitar string. He moved out of his arms and turned around. Mahiru’s gaze didn’t leave the ground and Kuro leaned down to see his face better. His lips were pressed into a stiff line and his brown eyes were filled with sorrow. “Mahiru?”
The moment their eyes met, Mahiru faked a smile and said: “I’m sorry I made you run after you said these lessons are to avoid exercising.”
“I complain about running but I don’t really mind a little exercise.” Kuro wanted to lighten the mood with the joke but Mahiru’s expression didn’t change. The smile he wore now didn’t hold the sunlight he came to know. His heart felt uneasy and he wondered when Mahiru’s smile became so important to him. “Did you want to keep our guitar lessons a secret from your uncle?”
Mahiru bit his lip and debated if he should tell Kuro about the reason that he wanted to learn the guitar. They only met recently and his problems could be too burdensome for him. He felt Kuro’s fingers brush through his bangs and he finally looked up at him. Kuro asked, “Is it something you can’t tell me about?”
Mahiru shook his head and told him: “I don’t know how to tell people what I’m feeling. I always worry that my feelings would burden people. No one wants a boy who won’t stop crying. Other people have their own problems and it’ll be easier for everyone if I show people the reaction that they want me to see. Instead of crying, people will be more at ease if I put on a brave smile.”
Even as Mahiru smiled reassuringly to Kuro, his fingers were trembling over his guitar. “It was really sweet of you to invite me to your band but I won’t fit in, Kuro. I should’ve explained my reason the first time you asked me. For a band to succeed, you need to communicate your song’s meaning to the audience. Any song I sing will sound shallow because I’m terrible at expressing my honest feelings.”
Kuro could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He wanted to hold Mahiru in his arms and comfort him but he gripped his jacket at his side to stop himself. At the same time, he thought of their past interactions. The determination he had each time he asked him how to play the guitar. The wonder in his eyes as he listened to his band. The pain Mahiru couldn’t hide whenever he avoided Kuro’s questions about his guitar. Those were Mahiru’s honest feelings yet he belittled himself.
“You can’t express your feelings? How can you say something so stupid while smiling?” Kuro yelled without thinking and surprised them both. He couldn’t stop his thoughts from pouring out. “I could hear your feelings when you sang and it moved me. That’s the reason I invited you to the band!”
More emotions clouded Mahiru’s face: confusion, shock and uncertainty. Lastly, hope softened his eyes and overpowered the past emotions. He parted his lips slightly but the words he wanted to say didn’t leave his mouth. He felt as if there was something gripping his lungs. Kuro touched his neck and Mahiru wondered if he was still able to understand him.
“You don’t have to join the band if singing makes you feel vulnerable.” He patted his head. “We should head back to your park or else your uncle will worry. Do you want to buy a soda on the way? I’ll pay.”
“Kuro,” Mahiru whispered his name. He stepped closer to him until their toes touched and the only thing between them was his guitar. They were so close that he could count Kuro’s long eyelashes. He hadn’t noticed how beautiful his eyes were. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against his broad chest. In a soft voice, Mahiru began to sing. His song didn’t have any words but Kuro understood it’s meaning.
I’m a little uncertain but I feel safe with you. I want to try singing with your band, Kuro.
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shymeg · 5 years
Text
This was no ordinary Saturday
80. "I just found out my best friend and love of my life isn't human and, you're criticizing me for being shocked?! for Anonymous 
synopsis: It started out at Pop's. I was just walking home when the person I secretly loved turned into something supernatural.  Was I dreaming? Was I going to make this out alive?  This was no ordinary Saturday.
                         This was no Ordinary Saturday
I was writing my manuscript having my black coffee at Pop's like any typical Friday evening or early Saturday morning and forgetting that it was a full moon. I never really paid attention before. Why Betty and Archie never wanted to hang out with me. I mean, all I  did was type away at my story. I wanted it to be as realistic as possible. I mean, after all, I was a lurker in the shadows- a lone wolf, Yet now that I think back on it, a lone wolf might die. I mean most wolves run in pacts. They aren't meant to be alone.
So, if it's alone, it was probably abandoned, so that fits me mentally. It more likely was injured in some way a defect I guess that fits me too. Wolves had a pretty coat at first, but after all the fights they get into, they tend not to maintain that beautiful coat of theirs.
So,  minding my business well people, watching as I typically do. I mean, I want the best story, and after, Jason Blossom’s murder. He was shot, which is better than him drowning to death since he was supposed to be this grade A swimmer, so he should have known how to swim. That or do the dead man's float even I am capable of that one. Yet, why was he shot, and for what reason? I was pondering this exact thought when Pop Tate himself came over to me, "Hey Jug, it's 3 A.M. I need you to go home at least for a little while. So, I can pretend I'm not running a hotel."
I blushed from embarrassment. I was going to have to go to my little hole in the wall. Closet now that the drive-in was no longer. I couldn't go home. My dad was violent when he drank. It was a given he'd be drinking today probably all day it being Saturday early morning. I was not going to let my dad beat me because he was drunk or asked where I have been? Where was his food if I was at Pop's. When he knew my job was at the drive-inn and now that was gone taken from me. I still held the picture in my backpack of JellyBean and me. It made my heart hurt. Knowing her and mom just up and left me with that monster. Yet, I think I reminded mom by looks alone too much of him, and she couldn't see my face. I had resentment sure which 15-year-old kid wouldn't?
Yet looking at Pop Tate, I understood his predicament. I stayed for hours here, unless Archie invited me to his place, which was less these days because he was so into football. Pop fed me like I was his foster son. He never asked for payment, and every once in a while, I'd do odd and end jobs, and he'd smile, and I would feel like I repaid some of my debt. Knowing it could never truly be repaid. Pop Tate was a saint for putting up with me, feeding me and keeping me warm this long without asking any questions.
I nodded and said, "Thanks, Pop." He put out his hand, and a paper bag was in it, "For the road until I see you again for breakfast," he had a genuine grin on his face. Like he truly wanted me back. I took the bag, and I hugged him. He embraced my hug.
I was heading for the school and to my secret window when I heard a noise in the bushes. I figured it was just a rabbit. Yeah, a rabbit. Yet, it was howling like a wolf. I wanted to creep closer. Was it hurt? Why would a wolf be in Riverdale? Maybe, just maybe it was an injured dog. I thought back to Archie's dog, and I wouldn't want it lying there alone, crying.
So, I took out my pocket knife encase. I went closer to the bushes, and that's when I saw it. The most vivid white wolf I have ever seen with these emerald eyes pleading for me to stay away. Yet, I couldn't. I looked at the wolf, and I saw that its paw was bleeding badly. The wolf was also limping, and I wondered, was the leg broken?  Was it merely limping do to the paw alone? I wasn't sure, and I was about to call the DNR when the wolf smacked my phone away from my hand.
I was fuming. That phone and my computer may be old, but that's all I had. It wasn't a smartphone like my friends had, but it was a phone, and it was mine. If that stupid wolf broke it, I was going to be livid. Yet, I looked again, it's emerald eyes and saw the pain. Like I could feel it, but how?
I went to try to get my phone when the stupid wolves paw landed on it, "Hey," I shouted. Great, I'm talking to a wolf. When suddenly, the wolf let out a yelp. I saw it. I thought I was dreaming at first, but no, I was still here before Riverdale High and my hole in the wall. The wolf was transforming before my very eyes.
Her vivid white fur becomes peach-colored skin. She had on pink polka undies that made me blush and a pink bra again, making me blush for looking. I turned around embarrassed for her and myself. I would never want to get caught like this. Yet, I wasn't a werewolf. Wait, those are real? I turned to see a shimmer of blonde, yet instead of that iconic ponytail, her hair was wavy and down. It couldn't be, could it? No, way Betty Cooper was a werewolf? Yes, I must be dreaming. I pinched myself. Nope, still here. I heard her whimper behind me. I knew she was injured. Yet, she was practically naked.
I realized I still had my flannel shirt around my waist, so I threw it to her. Hoping that would help. I decided to walk fast away from her towards the direction of the school. I was livid. Why didn't Betty tell me? I thought I was her horror movie, buddy? Her go-to number 2 guy? Only because she wanted Archie. I could never be Archie. I was the cynic, the half-empty guy, the loner that nobody wanted to say out loud they were my friend. I was the social pariah, the outcast, the person from the wrong side of town, the one that shouldn't even be going to Riverdale High. Yet, I was told by my social worker that I'd be going because they didn't want to fail me. I had potential. Blah. I was so mad at Betty. It's not even sunrise yet, so why was she changing? Was it because she was hurt? I didn't care; I muttered to myself. I had no real clue how the Supernatural worked. I never truly believed in it. Now, I saw what she was a werewolf, and I was truly alone.
Next thing I knew, I  spun around so fast and was thrown to the ground held down. "What did you see?" "Get off of me" I tried to fight her off, but she was too strong.
"I'll let you go when you tell me what you saw," Betty gripped harder.
I yelped in pain. I just wanted her to let go. Her eyes looked sharp, jagged even. Did her eyes glow? Did I imagine that? I have no idea anymore about anything.
I closed my eyes and hoped this was all a bad fucked up nightmare. I just wanted to go to my bed in the hole in the wall. I just wanted my friend Betty the one I thought was like me, well human, anyway.
I felt a tear pierce my skin. Of course, I'd cry. "I'm not going away" her voice was angry and husky I looked up I swear my eyes were pleading with hers, "I didn't see anything, I just want to go home." she shook me hit my head against the ground, "You lie!" Sure we all lie, but in this case, not really. I turned around when Betty changed. I didn't see her get hurt. I heard the cry and was hoping it was an injured dog. "i... I  di...did  didn't sssseee  any  anything." Great, now I'm stuttering! she scratched me, "Lie again, and it will be your eye!" I thought she was my friend. I thought wrong. I Gulped down as more tears began to fall. "What do you want me to say? I'll say it," I began to plead. I feel defeated, feeling humiliated. My heart rejected by a friend I knew since Childhood.
Her green eyes looked straight into me. Like she could see my soul. She shivered. She howled. I thought she changed from her wolf form? Why was she still howling? Is it a process? Does she not realize she's not a wolf anymore? My mind was thinking and analyzing every little thing when she hit me. "Get up!" Yeah, that would be so easy. That's what I was doing when you rudely laid me flat. Wouldn't let me get up, but now you will after threatening my eye? I wanted to scream. Yet I got up on wobbly legs. She put my hands behind my back, and she looked like she was going to kill me. "What did you see?" "Nothing, I turned my back." "What did you see before that?" "a wolf that was injured. I was going to call the DNR, but the wolf rudely took my phone." She had the nerve to look at me sheepishly." This phone?" As she picked it up off the ground? Slipping the phone into my back pocket so I couldn't get it.   Betty's green eyes stared  straight into my blue eyes and stated, "you aren't lying." I wanted to scream, no shit. Instead, I said, "Can I go now?" She looked sad, "Unfortunately, No." "WHAT" "You can't because you saw  me." "I did not" I stomped my foot I was throwing a tantrum. "Jughead, you did. You handed me this." I finally looked at her. She was wearing my flannel. It made my heart sing. Yet, something else filled it with dread. She was using that against me. Cause I gave her my clothes? "Hand it back. We can pretend I never saw you with basically nothing on. My apologies you wanted to walk around with your bra and panties." Betty looked pissed at me now, and I didn't care, "I CAN'T have your smell on me, Jughead. If I go back and we don't explain what happened, you might have a hit out on you from one of them thinking you can't be trusted." I glared at her, "Really, they'd kill me because I know? Well, why don't you kill me?  I have no protection, anyway!" She laughed and smiled, "Oh Jug, you are so dramatic." she shrugged, "Plus, why are you overreacting about this?"
Had I  entered the twilight zone? It was the full moon, after all. But somehow I went off, "Really, Betty, you hid this from me, I was supposed to be your friend. Why would you expect me to be okay with this? You threaten me. You hurt me, and you don't care. You act like this is a normal thing. I want to go home and go to sleep."
Betty's wickedness was back, "Oh Jug, but your house is in the opposite direction. The way you were walking was to the High School. So, I'm not the only one holding secrets. Plus, I couldn't kill you, but I might use you as my pet. If you continue with this little game of yours, so stop being upset and march. I wouldn't want to have to force you."
I gulped. I felt Betty's hand on my neck. She kissed my cheek. she whispered in my ear, "If you are a good boy, I might let you sleep in my bed later." She smiled that wicked smile, "I always liked you, Jug, and after tonight, don't worry, I won't turn you, but I might just make you mine."
I thought this would be a typical night to walk home.  I was deadly wrong. I'd be happy if I made it out of this still alive along with being human as I marched to the unknown with my hands behind my back with a robust supernatural being that I love.  
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ohnohetaliasues · 4 years
Text
Stones to Abbigale {Ch.2}
 (Kat)
I actively want to die.
This book is making me suffer.
It’s terrible and I hate it.
Okay, here’s chapter two.
Also, I’m going to start new paragraphs whenever someone speaks because I find reading it without that formatting insufferable.
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The following morning Mr. Hanson approached me in the hall before class started.
Wait, who is this again? The history teacher?
I actually forgot he existed.
"We're supposed to talk," he said in his usual stern voice.
I responded, "I know, but what about?"
He began gesturing with his hands as he often did, I guess it was a habit he developed to trick people into believing he was saying something interesting.
Or he just talks with his hands.
Like me.
"You know you're a smart kid, but you keep showing up late to my classes and it's becoming a problem" he said.
Surprised he showed genuine interest; I replied with a smirk, "I'll do better in the future."
He continued "Alright, well, I also wanted to ask you about a TA opportunity."
I replied, "You don't have a teacher's assistant?"
I’ve never heard of a high school student becoming a TA, but maybe it’s just not a thing at my high school.
I watched a bead of sweat fall down his balding forehead as he responded.
"The last TA moved, and yeah, you're not always on time, but you get your work done honestly and efficiently."
I asked, "Ok Mr. Hanson, next semester?"
He authoritatively replied "No, you can just take an elective class credit and I'll let your current teacher know you'll be working with me from here on."
I crave death.
I immediately thought of the possibility of losing art class and rejected the idea.
"My only elective is art class right now and I don't want to give that up" I said.
He took a step back looking offended and lost his temper, in a disgruntled tone he said "Art? Art class is a joke James! Tell me one person you know who is making a living painting pictures!"
Um.
There are many famous painters alive today who are rich.
Jeff Koons, Gerhard Richter. The list goes on.
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All the students nearby in the hall stopped and looked towards the shouting. I looked at Mr. Hanson unaffected, reminding him I would not give it up. I wasn't about to sacrifice the one class I had with Abbi for alone time with a sweaty, anger-prone history teacher.
What-
Why do adults in this book act like petty children?
Mr. Hanson looked at everyone stopped in the hall and screamed "Oh ha ha, everyone look at Mr. Hanson he's such a goof, move along kids!"
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Everyone just looked at him as he turned back to me, maintaining his clearly frustrated posture. He then waddled into his classroom to begin class.
My eyes are glazing over.
I reluctantly entered with the remaining students to sit at my desk, which was conveniently placed within broomstick range from Mr. Hanson's desk.
‘Broomstick range’ is now a system of measurement, apparently.
After enduring another useless history lesson revolving around my home state of Washington it was finally time for art class.
What a surprise, that’s also Onion’s home state.
I walked as fast as I could without looking too awkward, in my normal fashion, only to find Abbi wasn't even in the room. I sat down in my new seat and waited, only to see everyone but her fill the room.
Die mad about it.
Mrs. Stanley closed the door to our class trailer and instructed us to begin dismembering the possessions we brought from home. I began cutting the bear with a scalpel Mrs. Stanley provided me
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No.
No.
Just no.
Scalpel?
Is your art teacher insane?
but my muscles seemed to work on their own as I found myself consumed with Abbi again, her overwhelming presence on the edge of every thought fragment in my mind. Just a short while into class I found myself looking down at my bear, now cut into 6 pieces. I felt like I was in a science lab dissecting an actual animal, the most noticeable difference being that the cotton stuffing didn't look like or stink of old flesh and death like real animals did.
I don’t know whether to cry, scream, or laugh about this.
Later that day during lunch, due to my mom not being able to afford buying me a cell phone, I used a payphone to call Abbi but got no answer. I didn't feel like eating so the rest of lunch I just sat on a bench outside staring at people interacting with each other. I made a major effort to distract myself knowing that focusing on what could be was mostly a waste considering I was so powerless to influence any change at that point. Even just watching the bushes move around in the wind made more sense to me than letting worry consume me.
More of this pretentious bullshit.
Later that night after I had just finished my shower I placed the one cordless phone we had in my house next to my bed on my windowsill. I would have dialed her but I didn't want to call more than once a day for fear of wearing out my welcome.
Good idea.
That night, a few different calls came in but they were always for my sister Lisa. Her receiving a barrage of phone calls from random guys was nothing new to anyone in the house.
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The normal conversation you could expect to hear Lisa take part in, with excessive projection in her voice, would most always revolve around how stupid she thought other girls at school were and how she hates basically everything about Lakewood High.
I mean, who doesn’t hate high school? It kind of sucks.
I didn't want to know what she was talking about, ever,
Even if you just said what she was talking about.
but my TV volume couldn't compete with her voice. It was like she thought she was so important, everyone around her just had to hear everything she had to say no matter how trivial the topic. After a couple hours she finally stopped running her mouth so I turned off my TV and with it my room faded to darkness. I welcomed the silence like a warm blanket on a cold night.
I hate that simile.
I woke up the next morning to see the phone sitting there just like my stupid alarm clock, useless and unbearably annoying to look at. I expected it to sound off at some point but like the clock it failed to deliver.
If the alarm clock is broken, get a new one or throw that one away, or maybe fix it. There are many ways to fix your problem.
It was raining outside; clouds filled the sky in normal Lakewood fashion. I wasn't going to skate to school this time out of fear it would rust my skates and hinder my ability to skate fast if even at all.
If you briefly skate in the rain, it won’t do anything to your skates. That’s just how that works.
Instead I decided to ride the bus, pretending for only moments I really had a choice.
As I climbed up the bus steps, Davis rang out "Hallelujah, James is here to save everyone from the evil clouds!"
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I genuinely smiled for the first time that morning thanks to him. As usual I sat next to the window seat that Davis courteously always offered me.
This book just has a way of making me want to die.
The beginning of history class was the same old story. As usual I barely paid attention. I just thought about Abbi and hoped she was ok.
Okay, the way this is written makes it seem like James only has history class and then art and that’s it and then school is over. That seems to be it.
And that bothers me.
Interrupting my thoughts of Abbi came a very rude outburst by Jason. It was odd to hear his voice, as I wasn't supposed to see him till art class. He stood outside our closed class door waving his hands in hopes of disrupting us.
Is he just standing there screaming outside the classroom door? That’s fucking stupid. There is no logical or comedic reason for him to do that.
It was clearly for no real reason more meaningful than a toddler would have in invok- ing chaos around their immediate environment. Some people just want to get an emotional reaction to their behavior so they can feel a sense of power or control.
So he cuts class to scream outside a classroom door?
Have fun in detention, dipshit.
Jason began banging on the door so Mr. Hanson walked over and opened the door and asked "Why aren't you in your class?"
Jason responded saying, "Got kicked out, what's up?"
Okay, so because of that bullshit, I believe Mr. Hanson should have the option to fucking destroy you.
"Go stand outside your class till it's over" Mr. Hanson commanded, Jason rebelliously replied, "Don't tell me what to do fatty."
Okay, so I’m mad about how Onion connected these two pieces of dialogue when he shouldn’t have, but I’m also mad at this fucking 3rd grade insult.
To a teacher.
I could see Mr. Hanson was about to lose it, so I interrupted. "No one wants you here Jason."
Rude but yes, James is right. Fuck right off.
Mr. Hanson looked back at me with a look of surprise. He seemed shock I would say anything on his behalf. Jason became extremely silent, now refusing to look anywhere but at me.
That’s... Alarming imagery.
His glare was intense but it seemed so forced, like he wasn't really offended but didn't want to look weak in front of everyone else.
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I cannot imagine that in a way that invokes tension.
Mr. Hanson then closed the door inches away from Jason's nose but that didn't stop him from staring intensely through the vertical window slot in the door.
This literally sounds like a scene from The Office. It sounds like somethig Dwight Schrute would do.
He remained so still and consistent in his stare, it was almost as if he had become a red-faced almost cartoonish portrait hanging on the door.
Literally sounds like Dwight. I’m laughing my ass off.
As class came closer to an end Jason was no longer staring at me and wasn't even visible from my perspective. Knowing Jason had something left to prove, many of the students naturally assumed he was somewhere within the immediate vicinity. I could tell most everyone was concerned as they kept looking back at me, wondering what I was going to do about the clearly unstable and enraged jock that no doubt was still lurking just outside our door.
I can’t-
Is he a caricature? Of a fucking stereotypical jock?
Every kid in there knew I couldn't just hide out in the class. I was sure this was some kind of victory for Mr. Hanson. He knew I wouldn't have this immediate problem had I accepted his offer to TA for him.
It’s petty and stupid not to stop a potential fight between students because you’re mad at one of the students. Why is this asshole acting like a child?
Oh.
Right.
Because Onion regularly acts like a child.
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My decisions led me to this; I built a doorway to certain destruction and I knew if I was going to be brave, I had to walk through it.
I don’t care.
Get the shit beat out of you.
You’re annoying.
I didn't have time to deal with hesitating once class was over, seeing Abbi was my real priority. I walked out with the class just like I normally did only this time Jason was following close behind, as I'm sure most everyone assumed he would. I was about to leave the main building to head over to the art trailer only to feel a hand grab my shoulder. The hand slipped as I pulled away, nails scraping along my skin to clamp on my shirt. I was then yanked swiftly back from the main hall door. It began.
I’ve written fight scenes before. This has no buildup like a fight scene should have.
I yanked my shirt aggressively out of his hand and clutched my now scratched up shoulder. I was now facing Jason who immediately lunged at me and threw me into the already half-broken hall door just behind me.
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What door? Where is this fight taking place? in front of the school? Where is the main hall?
I’m very confused.
I bounced back from the impact and pushed Jason in the center of his chest to distance him from me so I could continue walking away. Without hesitation he used my response to justify further violence and began throwing punches. I was knocked to the ground within seconds and he began trying to pull off my backpack resulting in me being briefly dragged across the floor like a helpless child.
This... This is very very hard to picture as an actual series of events.
This is not how fight scenes work or how they should be written.
I was now a couple yards away from the door I was trying to leave through.
Oh, so this is inside. I pictured it outside because I wasn’t told that wasn’t where it was.
I twisted away to return to a standing position while simultaneously snatching my backpack back so hard that it flew out my hands and smacked the door behind me, leaving a huge crack in the glass. I could hear glass falling off the door behind me.
????
I cannot picture this happening it’s so strangely written.
People began to gather around us, and like a chemical reaction they began screaming just as they did before. Much of what was happening was a blur, but I remember they would scream every time Jason hit me throughout the irrefutably one-way fight. It quickly got to the point where I didn't even feel the punches, I could only hear them laughing and yelling as Jason swung again and again.
Has Onion only ever seen shitty high school movies? Because nobody acts like this.
I kept falling over and over but every time I would return to stand only to fail at defending myself from further blows. I didn't block a single hit; I didn't even throw one punch at him.
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As my nose began to bleed one of the boys my sister was friends with, Matthew, grabbed me and pulled me out of the fight. He was twice my size but was also on Jason's football team so naturally he did nothing to help me win.
Bro he saved you from being punched repeatedly.
The only thing he offered me was an end to the beating I was suffering.
And that’s fine. Because Matthew is stopping the fight instead of continuing it. Which is the good thing to do.
Shortly after the fight ended I found myself sitting on a mattress in the nurses' office, not allowed to leave, not allowed to do anything but think about what happened.
I’d maybe take him to the hospital.
Despite everything in my head feeling scrambled and disorganized, there was Abbi, waiting in the same place, just as she sat in the back of class. She radiated warmly in the back of my mind.
Awesome.
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As lunch approached Principal Leeman came into the room I was staying in at the nurses' office and asked me how I was feeling.
Why on earth did the principal come and check on him?
That’s bizarre.
I responded "Well, my tooth is chipped, my chin hurts, my face is bruised and I just got humiliated in front of my peers."
And you know your tooth is chipped without actually checking.
Fun.
Mr. Leeman said, "I've gotten multiple statements saying you pushed him. What's your response?"
James was literally attacked. It was not his fault. I will admit that, even if I hate him.
I replied "I pushed him back after he pushed me first. All I did was push him back once and then he did this to my face." I made a circular motion around my face showing how one-sided the fight way.
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That bit of dialogue and the following description didn’t make any fucking sense.
Principal Leeman said in a commanding voice "Well he's suspended for 10 days," he paused and I felt relief assuming the Principal was on my side, but then he continued, "You will be suspended for 2 days."
The bitch didn’t fight back, but sure okay.
I was surprised they would suspend someone for just pushing back when they are pushed. What was I supposed to do? Just ignore being assaulted?
Valid point.
If school is meant to teach us how to survive in the real world, and in the real world you are legally allowed to defend yourself, how could they justify this punishment?
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Never mind, shut the fuck up.
Principal Leeman informed me I could finish up the day and not return for the following two days.
I would assume James needs to go home or to the dentist due to his chipped tooth.
"You should be at least grateful for that, Jason was escorted off school grounds entirely," he said.
Principal Leeman stared at me sitting there, helpless and about to break down.
"Ok then, see you again in a few days" he said and quickly walked out.
All I could focus on feeling in that moment was the tacky ice pack on my face and a sinking feeling of worthlessness. It's not something I like to admit but the truth is I cried seconds after Principal Leeman left the room.
I mean, I would too.
The type of cry you suppress but your eyes still get become red, your body trembles & painfully hot tears still fall. It was the type of sadness that made a person ache to their core but you do your best to hold on, to not lose yourself to your emotions like you would so carelessly do as a child.
 I have read descriptions of trying not to cry before, and this feels like a strange hollow replica of the things I read. I’ve written someone trying not to cry before.
While this does evoke some emotion, it’s very on the surface and not deep enough to make me feel anything heavy.
And it isn’t childish to cry, it’s human, so shut the fuck up, Onion.
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I sat in the room alone till I could collect myself. Shortly after I gathered my stuff and proceeded to finishing my classes for the day.
There needs to be a comma after ‘shortly after’ or this reads like an incomplete sentence.
I also asked a couple of my teachers about any work I would miss so I could keep up while I was suspended but didn't have the motivation to stop by every single class before leaving the school entirely.
Have fun with the surprise homework you’ll have.
As I was about to get on the bus home I looked over to see Abbi again in the parking lot with her boyfriend Seth. They were standing by his car. This time they were not showing affection, in fact she seemed like she wasn't even willing to look at him despite him clearly and aggressively speaking to her.
Oh wonderful.
Abuse.
Don’t get me wrong, abuse is terrible and I hope from the bottom of my heart that if any of you are victims of abuse that you get the help you need, but this.
This seems cliché.
Without a second's thought I shifted away from the bus and began walking over to Abbi to see if she was ok. The more I could hear Seth's tone as I approached the more worried I became.
Okay, that’s a rational thing to do.
Seth reacted to me like a guard dog in a ghetto-fenced yard once he realized I was headed towards him.
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That’s a little extreme.
He puffed out his shoulders and glared at me in attempts to look intimidating.
How does someone puff out their shoulders? Explain that to me.
Abbi remained upset, it seemed like she was emotionally unable to look any- where but the ground.
Do you mean physically? You can’t use your emotions to move your body. That’s just not a thing that exists. Sorry, Onion.
Now within a fair speaking range, I tried to sound optimistic for the sake of Abbi's emotional state, "Hey Abbi, were you at art class today?"
In.* In art class, I think you mean.
I asked.
Her boyfriend stepped in front of her to block my view and said, "Are you the kid that called her the other night?"
I responded, "Yeah, we're..."
"Just ignore him James" Abbi said mumbled loudly behind Seth.
Seth looked back as if an arrow had just been plunged into his chest.
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So... He looked like he’d been shot?
Excuse me, the fuck?
Abbi then walked around him looking only at me and said, "Will you walk me..." but paused when she saw my face.
Abbi's facial expression changed quickly to shock as she asked in an alarmed tone "...what happened?"
Her boyfriend busted out laughing, "Oh, you didn't see this idiot get wrecked by Jason? He didn't even fight back. I would've had that jock prick choking in his own blood in seconds but you just took a beating like a..."
It’s like this guy looked at the viewer and said ‘I’m an asshole and you’re not supposed to like me.’
Abbi interrupted screaming, "Shut up Seth! You sadistic freak!"
Seth's grin turned into a scowl. He rapidly stepped towards her so I blocked his path by stepping in front of him. Seth looked more mortified than I had ever seen a person get. In such a short time knowing him I could see he had a number of mental and emotional issues, more so than I understood.
You just know this?
Again, why is James written like this? In a way that seems like he has psychic powers?
Seth didn't even try to get past me to Abbi; he let his voice reach her with his screams "You have no respect! After what I've done for you?"
Abbi replied, "I'm sick of this Seth, I want nothing to do with you."
Her voice cracked as Seth screamed once more. "If you're ending this again! I..."
He didn't know what to say, but in his eyes I could see a deep intense hatred. When I looked in most people's eyes I saw all kinds of things but in him there was only anger and pain. His hands were shaking furiously, his breathing noticeably irregular, he was losing it.
This is like a lizard person trying to describe how an angry person looks. It doesn’t make sense and it is mechanical.
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Abbi still refused to look at Seth as he threw his tantrum. He yelled "Fine! Be with a guy who can't even protect himself! Idiot!"
Fine, be with someone who clearly isn’t abusive who you’ve talked to twice.
Seth got into his car as Abbi tightly grabbed my arm; her eyes remained closed like she was scared, hiding in a shell. She jumped at the sound of Seth slamming his car door.
Yikes.
Recklessly, Seth floored the gas pedal and his car lurched forward, barely missing Abbi and me as he pulled out of the parking lot.
I can’t even.
Abbi stood silently by with her eyes still closed. I didn't know how to act in a situation like this.
Trying not to make things worse I just said, "I will walk you home, to answer your question."
Abbi opened her eyes but remained silent. She nodded.
I am running out of gifs to express how annoyed I am.
We had been walking for a while, every step making us feel like we were slightly further from our problems.
She finally spoke, "So I was in Art Class and I saw your cut up bear."
I responded, "Yeah? Creepy right? Maybe it was a FUBAR idea." She laughed a little.
I forgot that he cut up the bear yesterday and not the same day this is taking place because Onion sucks ass at transitions and I actually forgot that there was a transition because it was forgettable.
"Yeah, I guess we're both kind of weird, I was all game for it." I softly laughed as I began to feel raindrops hitting my arms and neck.
"I hear running is just as bad as walking in the rain" I said.
"You get just as wet?" She replied.
"Yeah, something like that. It's like the harder you try to fix some problems, the worse they get."
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I made a face similar to this gif in response to this nonsense.
I impulsively asked to confirm what I had earlier seen
"So your... Seth... is..."
She interrupted "Hopefully soon completely out of my life."
My curiosity overtook me, I asked, "What happened?"
She frowned and said, "Other than what happened in the parking lot?"
I responded "Well, I mean, I donno, don't say anything you don't want to."
Dunno.*
She stared at her feet as we continued to walk. I noticed her makeup was running. Shortly after she noticed too and began to rush us getting home.
Walking faster she said, "I'm sorry, I really don't want you to see me like this."
She continued to rush slightly ahead of me, I stopped walking and said "Hey!"
She slowed down and stopped still facing away from me.
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We stood in the rain for only a few seconds before she asked, "Do you think makeup really helps anyone?"
I replied still looking at her back, "I think it helps us forget what we don't want to remember, it let's us pretend we're a little more perfect than we really are."
She laughed sadly and said, "That's one way to put it."
I smiled and replied "Makeup is just makeup, and skin is just skin. It is what it is."
I’d rather knock myself unconscious than read this waxing poetic pretentious bullshit.
You aren’t Walt Whitman, Onion boy. Shut up.
Abbi looked up at the rain for a moment and then down at the ground again. She then turned around with her rain-soaked face revealing what she was hiding under her makeup. Standing before her in the rain, looking at the results of what she had suffered, it broke my heart. Abbi wasn't worried about her makeup running for the reason I thought, she was just afraid of what I would think when I saw the bruises on her face, some just like mine.
You being beat up by someone isn’t as bad as the prolonged abuse Abbi has apparently been suffering.
So shut your fucking mouth you whiny bitch.
"Do you see them?" she asked with a quiver in her voice.
Without restraint I responded with the first thing that came to my mind, "I see beautiful girl, who I very much enjoy walking with in the rain."
Despite her face being covered in falling drops of water, I could clearly see tears fall from her eyes.
Okay. You’ve spoken to her twice now.
While this is slightly sweet, both of these characters have given me no reason to like them or grow attached to them, so I really don’t care about this interaction.
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Her head fell forward as she began to shake, her tears falling almost in sync with the rain.
Okay.
Um.
Just... Okay.
I walked up to her and put my arm around her side and walked with her the rest of the way home.
As we got to her doorstep I said "I'm just seven letters away, call if you need anything ok?"
She smiled and nodded.
"See you tomorrow?" she asked.
I replied, "I got suspended for two days".
She looked offended "Woooow! Punishing the guy who got beat up, classy!"
She looks offended? Why? James didn’t offend her.
Also, it bothers me so fucking much that Onion puts the dialogue bits after the ‘she said’ part of the sentence. That is not how you write. At all.
Fuck you.
I responded, "Yeah... well, I pushed him back."
She replied "Clearly not hard enough."
I laughed sadly looking down as she unexpectedly wrapped her arms around me.
Despite it being so cold out and her being soaked, it was the warmest hug I had ever received. I hugged her back, said goodbye and walked home with a huge smile on my face, bruises and all.
Hallelujah. Fuck both of you.
Okay, so there are many things wrong with this.
The formatting is absolutely fucked and the characters are actually so deeply bland and flavorless that I cannot bring myself to like them at all.
Also, it romanticizes abuse.
Which is disgusting.
Okay, I’m gonna get on chapter three because I apparently love suffering.
Ugh.
~Kat
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juleswolverton-hyde · 5 years
Text
It’s November, but I still want you part 3
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Genre: Drama, romance, smut (eventually), werewolf AU, art school AU
Pairing: Artist!Jimin / Werewolf!Jimin x Reader
Warning: Mention of mating and knotting, toxic relationships
Summary: A first love is always bittersweet, but this time it is perchance the hardest pill to swallow. Especially when the aftermath can still be felt years after.
In the month of November.
Author’s Note: I sincerely apologize for the long period of waiting for this fanfic to finally update or announce it is discontinued. However, as you can see, the latter does, fortunately, not apply. Henceforth, I would like to say this fic is still up and running with this chapter likely being the second-to-last one. It is time to wrap up some old projects.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (yet to be written)
Masterlist
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Two autumns without sketching the falling dying leaves together, three winters without sharing warm beverages in the usual spot in the same coffee shop every day, three springs eyes beheld the fall of cherry blossom without him and three summers passed with so much as a word.
Ever since the young artist left, nobody closely connected to him has seen the lad. Classes went by unattended, fingers nervously and softly ticking a pencil against the table surface in the exact spot that would have formed the workspace of the one who walked away for the safety of the heart it hurt. However, what was not given a thought at the time, was that the flight inflicted more harm than when everything had been as of old and the night we first laid down as lovers remained cloaked in silence.
Stayed our forbidden fruit.
Even during graduation, the raven-haired creator was not there to celebrate the end of endless study hours stained with paint, charcoal and cramped digits. Not even the six guys with whom a group of brothers was formed had the knowledge concerning the whereabouts of the wolf boy. Nevertheless, something had tainted sincerity for the older ones’ attitude stirred up a deep-rooted sense of suspicion within, but it could also have meant nothing at all. Regardless of the truth, they tried to remain in contact and lighten the mood as much as possible, elevating the gloom left behind by the dear friend turned lover turned... away.
Limits were pushed too much, the warnings and pleads should have been heeded but the mind was too naive to notice the danger lurking beneath the mask of a familiar face, skin flushed with the anticipation to have fingertips grab it tightly and possessively by the small hands that had held even smaller ones throughout many sleepless nights. The animalistic behaviour that needed to be repressed was foolishly underestimated, leading us to ruin.
Jimin has never had to carry the blame for the situation because the mistake is entirely that of the individual who thought to be able to handle what clearly could not be. The mirror shows the reminder of devastating stubbornness daily, still adorning the neck in the form of two pieces of jewellery. The gift that has become the last physical memory of a beautiful moment in life. One thin bronze chain with a crescent moon pendant made of the same metal hanging from it and one chain that is a tad longer and made of a mixture between silver and gold with a handcrafted wolf pendant crafted from tiger's eye matrix.
Only once have they been forgotten, when it was the youngest among the broken band of comrades - Jungkook - who held a soul devoid of love and craving it so badly it gripped the first source of simulacrum tightly to have a taste of it again. The morning brought the shame of having used the sweet guy’s hidden sentiments portrayed by gentle kisses and careful movements between the thighs wrapped around a slim waist after coming undone twice before even starting in earnest. The whined and panted ‘I love you’s were already a vague memory when the sun rose over haphazard sheets partially concealing a thoroughly dishevelled dark bedhead and back engraved with scratches that likely caused more pain than pleasure. Nevertheless, perchance it is because of the guilt of having played a sick game with genuine emotions that the decision to stay by the youth’s side was made.
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Eventually, the self-loathing blame turned to a non-sustainable yet believable form of affection reserved for lovers. Almost akin to what was only temporarily had with Jimin.
Until he, too, walked away for the same reasons.
Funny.
History repeats itself.
But not today after finding a pamphlet for an art exhibition near the marketing office where a fortunate job as a graphic designer was picked up soon after graduation, the grand opening of which is tonight. Normally, similar events would have been evaded since too many bodies occupy a space which cannot possibly handle them all at once and the gallery visited at a later date when the hype has died down enough to allow for calmly enjoying the art. However, the default course of action does not form an option in this case due to the artist presenting his piece of art.
Because it is the work of an old friend who gave two beautiful necklaces as a gift a long time ago.
A refugee lover who bound a reckless girl to him with the jewellery.
An onyx wolf to whom an apology is in order and the guilt more than justified.
Park Jimin.
The low heels of ballerinas click on the marble linoleum floor of the bare brick space after finding a sign outside pointing towards the entrance of the grand creative event, eyes wavering to the sides to observe the sketches of faceless women while also frantically searching for the grand master himself. Shreds of murmured conversation compose a rumbling radiating flood when entering the edifice, making the discovery of the wanted man that much more difficult since a familiar voice could not possibly be recognized in this chaotic mess of speakers.
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The quest is halted when the gaze wanders to the side entirely, the attention of the panicked thoughts about coming in vain and being rejected from the beginning of the conversation suddenly focusing on a grand featureless portrait. To any other person, it might signify the blank canvas an individual essentially forms, smithing yet another temporary identity to go by until it loses its beauty like its predecessors and repeating the process each time. Withal, the shape of the face is undeniable and cannot be unseen as its familiarity is unavoidable.
Self-hatred, unintended hurt, past mistakes and various trips of guilt are depicted in the simple though meaningful drawing.
It is mine.
My face.
‘It’s the biggest piece of the collection. I wanted to give this person an expression yet couldn’t because I didn’t know what it should look like. Hence, I settled for this.’ The casual tone betrays not knowing who the listener is or the artist is beating around the bush because he, too, cannot handle the strangeness of the circumstances caused by a mayhaps unwelcome visitor in the way it perhaps should be.
‘Your lines are still off.’ A slim index finger points to the traced shape of the jaw, indicating inherently nothing although the turn to bad humour somehow seems a logical direction to take in the situation. Just as it has always been since it functions as a shield against overwhelming emotions. An old habit rooted in days gone by which dies hard, as those kinds of things tend to do. ‘I thought you’d gotten better at drawing by now, Park Jimin.’
‘Y/N.’ The manner of speech indicates having recognized the admirer far before the conversation even started, relieved delight mixed with agonized graveness.
The scars still hurt.
The fumbling digits reaching out brush against those of the individual who remains focused on the image in front. Eventually, they entwine with those that had to be let go after fully committing to the steadfast faith of being a wolf, but after more hesitation upon noticing the awkward gesture than had ever been the case in the past. ‘Can you look at me?’
‘I’m sorry, Chim. For everything. I push- pushed you too far.’ The burning tears slowly begin to create small brooks over the cheeks, the unoccupied hand wiping them away as the other tries to free itself in order to make an escape. A plan that already comes too late. ‘I shou- shouldn’t even be here. I have to go.’
But the fingers of the once intimately loved beloved remain strongly wrapped around the others, their counterparts coming to rest where frantic digits endeavoured to stop the water, thumb gently continuing the attempts with affectionate sweeps. Gazes meet by means of forceful albeit kind-hearted compelling, the palm on the face of an unworthy mistress turning the head to do so and fulfil the earlier disregarded request. ‘That’s not how you apologize to someone, Y/N. You’re raised knowing better.’
Jimin has changed, not only on the inside - if there has been no help in the form of therapy to drive the insane beast out - but on the outside as well. Onyx has made place for pale sandstone which resembles limestone if the light falls on it in a specific angle, paint-stained shirts and jeans are replaced by a stylish nightly black outfit of which the shirt lights up in the purplish lilac shades of twilight whenever it is illuminated directly. Of course, this style has merely been chosen to conform to the formality of the event, though there is a suspicion former characteristic clothes and their sentiments have been abandoned aside from the casual ones that were often worn during a happening like this back in college.
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The past has clearly been endeavoured to be erased.
Good.
I was not the only one trying.
Nonetheless, the most obvious physical change makes eyes widen in astonishment due to the uncharacteristic feature.
Purple flowing over in sickly yellow on cheekbones, a scar marring the left side of a sympathetic expression as full lips speak so kindly in spite of the immense wrongdoing three years ago, the bottom split in the middle by a healing scarlet wound.
Hurt.
Actual clear signs of pain.
Afraid of the impact that may or may not still be felt, two small hands - the left one slipping easily from the grip weakened by oddly loving renewed feelings - languidly rise to remove those framing a face the artist idiotically seems to adore still and trace the trail of inflicted harm with a slightly opened mouth. ‘What happened?’
A spark lights up the warm dark brown gaze of the lad who was thought never to even kill a fly, moved by the concern and showing this by the tiniest hasty smile. ‘It’s alright, Y/N. Just...’ Lashes flutter shut as the gesture is leaned into, briefly forgetting whatever coverup is created to not ignite any type of worry akin to the sort that has been tainting living in general since the first and last bittersweet night together. ‘Just business... nothing... serious.’
A warm teardrop slides down the wrist enveloped by the fingers which were good-naturedly removed, the narrow surface of skin snuggled against regardless of the barely audible pained whines the motions evoke. Teeth lightly grazing over the surface, just tangible enough to send shivers down the spine in a paradoxical mixture of pleasure and worry about the wolfish behaviour that essentially drove us apart. Furthermore, what circumstances could have asked for bodily harm, form the root for obvious pain? ‘Jimin, what’s going on? Talk to me.’
You never fought, bodily nor verbally. Did you get beat up? What happened to you? On the other hand, we both changed and know nothing anymore. Notwithstanding, just tell me. Tell me what caused this, what took place and of which the visible aftermath is so damn painful to witness without knowing the background.
The soft kiss on the pulse evokes a hitched breath, astonished by the blatant display of wishing for intimacy once more even though it brought nothing but misfortune in the past. ‘I still want you. I wish... I wish you could stay.’ The last word is a mere whisper, only audible to the ears of the listener and the speaker in the ocean of murmurs. ‘Stay with me, be mine again.’
More tears roll down the smooth skin of the forearm before watery solemn dark irises quickly turn from the former point of focus to two staring in wonder when the wrist manages to slip from the novel fairly firm hold, having made use of the temporary weak spot caused by sadness. Fast as lightning hands pull the artist into a tight embrace at seeing a quivering pillowy bottom lip, determined to keep the sobs dimmed as much as possible and to not lose face to any potential buyers or investors.
‘Don’t cry, Chim. You’re not at fault, never have been. You were right to walk away and I’m not even mad at you for doing it. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.’ Kindly, bleak sandy locks are affectionately stroked while nuzzling the old lover’s warm neck, growing drowsy, no, getting hypnotized by the heat radiating from the body still built like a dancer’s and the musky alluring scent containing hints of turpentine and summer flowers. ‘As I said, I pushed you too much and should’ve listened. But I didn’t. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.’
The hug tightens, star-crossed lovers holding on to one another as if the only way to stay afloat in the turbulent sea of life is by clinging to the buoy in the shape of the other beloved.
And just for a split second, all seems well. Exactly like the old days, filled with hope for a future together.
However, the girl who ruined everything might as well drown in spite of the lifeline because the blonde lad lets go too soon, arms untangling and keeping the adored soul at bay by creating a new distance with shaking hands, just enough not to touch directly. The voice has gained a ghastly tone, speaking as if this time the farewell is permanent. ‘Let’s agree to disagree.’
A foot sweeps uncertainly over the alabaster marbled linoleum, acting as if removing a stain on it as locked gazes are briefly broken up while a hand combs through the strands that were lovingly caressed a split second ago. Withal, like is the case with the entire body, they shortly find each other again afterwards. ‘I really wish we could have a second chance, Y/N.’
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‘If- If you want, we can still-’
A solitary head shake cuts off the desperate argument that was about to be given, nullifying every spark of hope which had collected and started a grand bright foolish fire within. ‘We can’t. You’re better off without me. Vice versa it’s not the case, but even though I still long for you, I know that a part of loving you comes with sacrifice and the desire for you to be happy.’
‘I was with you! In fact, I was the most cheery whenever we went out to the park to draw the flowers in the flowerbed or to the coffee shop. The most restful nights were those when you were lying beside me. Now, all that remains of those beautiful moments are these.’ Fingers clearly display the thin bronze chain with a crescent moon pendant and one that is a tad longer and made of a mixture between silver and gold with a tiger's eye matrix wolf pendant. ‘A daily reminder of what we had. Of you.’
A melancholic grin carves itself onto full plush roseate lips, an almost invisible nod acknowledging the meaning behind the jewellery which clearly does not add any convincing nor credible reason to change a stubborn mind set on its own opinion. ‘You still have them. I’m glad because I thought you’d have thrown them away. Or, if not you... never mind, I don’t want to think about that.’
‘Think about what? Jimin, you’re not making any sense. The last time you spoke in riddles, there was clearly something going on.’ The old Self awakens, having pushed aside the pathetic contemporary ego out of the overwhelming determination to not let things remain unresolved upon being compelled to part ways like before. To leave behind loose ends. ‘At least honestly tell me if everything is alright this time. Or just the reason for why you look like you fought a war and lost. Anything. Don’t send me away without a proper goodbye, fill up the distance with making this fucking lingering concern about you I’ve been living with for the past three years a heavier burden than it already is. Yes, I understand you don’t want me by your side anymore. But, I beg of you, grant me this last favour.’
‘I never said that, that I don’t want you by my side anymore so don’t put words in my mouth. Besides, if I did I wouldn’t wish for you to be mine again, would I? I can’t tell you what happened when I was gone, merely that it has to do with what caused our goodbye in the first place. As for the wounds, it’s nothing to be worried about. I’m fine.’ Hands mould into trembling fists, the emitted heat turning to menacing rage.
The made point is justified because the used wording which is reacted to never had any valid worth, to begin with. Rashness can push one’s own opinion despite the nullifications which are or are not already present, making the individual solely focused on their hellbent desire to drive their own beliefs through.
The realization of this calms the raging storm within, knowing that more yelling and arguing will lead nowhere. Instead, a deep steadying breath is taken and a new attempt at making amends undertaken. ‘Chim...’
A careful step forward is rewarded with a petrifying glance, feet immediately stuck in the place of the last retraced track. Stare wavers for a moment to the spot which was nuzzled against and kissed longingly, imagining what could have happened had the gesture advanced. Memories of the first and last night as more than friends resurface.
Even the worst event is no longer regarded in a negative light, a hidden absurd persona craving for it to happen again.
Get knotted, feel him again.
He is not a senseless beast, but a caring young man. Why do I long for that side of him, thinking in such terms? Furthermore, how did I get so carried away by just hugging? That’s never happened.
Nevertheless, the contemplating train of thoughts inherently boils down to the same wanton wish.
To be his.
‘Go.’
Simply have him back.
Resume our tale.
‘Please-’
We can work this out. We can get you help. Therapy. You’re not an animal, Jimin. You don’t have to hold back because of it. Come back. Come back to me.
‘Go!’ The command is growled like a wolf grown sick with the obligation to wait for a dumb opposing party to leave and giving a warning shot that any further provocation has consequences. The sternness rapidly fades, softening into sweet stained nostalgia when realizing what the hurtful impact of the chosen attitude is. ‘Go, Y/N. Just go. It’s better for us. For you. I have nothing to offer, nothing to be better than the man you belong to.’
‘I belong to nobody. I’m my own person.’ It is weird to hear the statement of essentially being some individual’s property being said with so much certainty when the speaker initially was the one to say a person should never be subject to another. ‘That’s what we artists are, independent and stubbornly liberated.’
A weak bubbly chuckle, no extravagant motions that express amusement as per habit. Instead, composure portrays not wanting this outcome to the circumstances either and come closer to make resume making amends as intended by the graphic designer who was once a free-spirited artist like him, continue where the mutual story abruptly ended. Yet, behaviour obviously gives away that the alternate route is not possible if it ever has been. ‘Goodbye.’
End of the line.
Don’t. Don’t do this, you bastard!
But the tongue is rendered silent, paralyzed with grieving shock and the ability to speak abandons the mute girl with the leaving footsteps of a sandstone wolf clad in black like the starry night sky.
The same heaven above a lonely head wandering the street again after leaving the gallery, fighting to tune out the repeating material of the emotional conversation while low heels click against the concrete. Regardless, the words are resonating as if freshly spoken and fingers have the remnants of touches by other ones clearly engraved in muscle memory.
But they have to take a moment to remember the hand grabbing them now for, although more recent than Jimin’s, it seems a longer period of time has passed since it was held by this particular one. Even longer so for the voice accompanying it, containing a strange sort of confidence that would have been quite uncharacteristic up until last January. ‘He left you again, didn’t he?’
Raven locks partially shroud feverish yet trusted doe eyes above a cute nose, a paradoxical bunny-like smile playing on pale pink lips seemingly belonging to a predator. But the person in front after accidentally bumping into them after being pulled flush against a well-trained chest is known to be better than that, never having had the aura of cunning dominance. Henceforth, looking down is the kind gentle boy with the scratched back who disappeared because of the reasons another had already given three years prior.
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But Time has the ability to evoke a transformation in every aspect of and being in existence and it forms the cause for this grown-up version of a shy comic artist whose creative persona is a pink muscly rabbit. Although all former anticipating illusions are forever erased by the reflection, it is still a grand comfort to see a familiar face which holds the credible promise of staying. Thus, there is a glad surrender to the intoxicating heat scented with a delicious potion of peppermint, blue ink, markers, lily and jasmine.
To the hands framing the face perfectly and body pressing against one drunk on the temporary happiness offered by the situation.
To Jungkook.
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Text
In Dire Need of A Friend
~Hey guys! This is not very good because I didn’t really edit it at all, I just wanted to get some content out, constructive criticism and feedback is always welcome!
~Basically this is a little side story off of when Emma said she brought the Professor groceries, and the follow up of the Professor coming to Beanies! 
    This month had been the lowest of the low. Professor Hidgens had been coming to fewer and fewer of his own classes. He could not muster the strength to pull himself up from his bed it seemed. Another production company had rejected the script for his musical, which had been the catalyst for this depression slum. He had actually been doing well before his interaction with the production company. Working on his musical and the start of the new school year had pushed down the sadness so far in his body that he had nearly forgotten the ice cold feeling of complete despair. But the second he read the words of that email that horrible feeling cropped up in his chest and head once more.'We regret to inform you that we will not be accepting 'Working Boys; A New Musical' as our fall production this season.' The words had traveled like a bullet straight into the heart of the balanced routine that he'd been managing. Some of his students were beginning to notice the weight he was shedding, the greasy hair, and the very deep circles under his eyes. On the fourth day of Professor Hidgens not showing up to class one of his students, Emma, decided that someone needed to do something. 
    Emma was a college student, so in other words she really didn't have much money. She worked at a coffee shop near campus called Beanies and while her income wasn't much, it was enough for her to have a little savings. She decided her money could be well spent in some groceries for Professor Hidgens. So on her way back from her last class of the day she stopped at a small grocery store before making her way to the edge of town. Professor Hidgens had one told her about his home, about how lonely such a big house gets. She was confident she could find it with the vague description of where it was located. She did indeed find the large home and was shocked to find that the gates guarding the place were wide open. She pushed on and securely parked in the long driveway beside Professor Hidgens's dirty looking car. Emma picked up all four full bags of groceries she had purchased and marched toward the front door. She pounded the sturdy oak door heavily, and waited for a response. Within a few minutes the sound of multiple locks clicking open vibrated against the door. The door swung inward, revealing a disheveled Professor Hidgens. His gray bush of hair looked like wild bedhead, and his clothes looks wrinkled in ways only a few days of wear can produce. His body language was riddled with exhaustion. His eyes were droopy and he was ringing his hands. 
    "Hi Professor!" Emma beamed cheerfully. "It's Emma, from your intro to biology class." 
    "Yes of course, but w-what are you doing here?" Professor Hidgens insisted, leaning heavily on his door frame, almost as though he needed to balance himself. 
    "Well, you've missed a few classes Professor. I wanted to stop by and, well..." She trailed off, not really sure how to explain what she was doing. 
    "Oh..." He suddenly sounded choked, like he couldn't continue. "I guess I have." 
    "I, uh, I got you some groceries. I assumed you might be kind of busy." She smiled warmly. 
    Emma didn't want to insult the man by insinuating he couldn't take care of himself. She hoped it wasn't obvious that she was scrambling for an excuse for buying the groceries for him. The professor looked up from where his eyes had been trained on the floor earlier, there was something glinting in his watery eyes. Something to the tune of gratitude, confused gratitude, but gratitude nonetheless. He sucked in a deep breath and rubbed at his eyes quickly. Emma didn't want to rush him but the bags were nearly breaking her weak arms. She shuffled the bags slightly trying not to be too obvious. Professor Hidgens noticed, removing his hands from his face and plastering on a small smile. 
    "Where are my manners, come in Emma." He said, swinging the door open further and ushering her inside. 
        Emma was making quick work of putting the groceries away. She had gotten the necessities for the basic college kid diet, she hoped it worked for professors as well. She was nearly heartbroken to find that upon opening the fridge there was nothing but a carton of spoiled milk, a mushy apple, and half a head of lettuce inside. Professor Hidgens mulled over a glass of water while Emma shuffled about the kitchen putting things away and throwing out things horrendously past their sell-by date. When she was finished she joined the man at the table, noticing that he had thankfully nearly polished off the water in the glass. She wondered if she was seem to pushy offering to get him another glass. It had fallen dark outside and Emma knew she would need to leave soon, but she was content to sit with the Professor and talk for a while if that's what he needed. 
    "I can't tell you how thankful I am that you stopped by Emma. I was in dire need of... some groceries." Professor Hidgens uttered, not looking up from his glass. 
    "Of course! Your house isn't far from where I work so it was no trouble really." She assured. "I work at that Coffee shop on the corner of Eighth st. and Park. Beanies." 
    The Professor nodded as if to think about it heavily. They continued to speak quietly as the minutes ticked on. The Professor talked briefly of his musical and Emma made sure to show extra enthusiasm as he explained it. She didn't miss the way his eyes lit up as he illustrated every detail. It was evident that he cared greatly for his creation, it was heartwarming to see him so animated and excited. Before either of the two of them had realized it was nearly midnight and Emma needed to leave. She excused herself apologetically, wishing she could stay later but an early shift at Beanies preventing anything of the sort. 
    "I'm going to go now professor. I left out a box of that instant macaroni, it's pretty shit but it's something. Please eat it." Emma pleaded, getting up and making strides toward the door. 
    "I will." The Professor nodded, a tired smile on his face. 
    "Maybe if you're feeling up to it I'll see you at the next lecture?" Emma hinted, almost out the door. 
    "Maybe." The Professor replied. 
    "Bye, Professor Hidgens." 
    "Goodbye, Emma." 
    It had been a week since Emma had stopped by the Professors house and he still hadn't made it back to class. On a particularly slow day at Beanies Emma began to plot on maybe dropping by again due to his ever present absence  when a silver head of hair popped in through the glass door. Emma's eyes lit up as Professor Hidgens stepped through the door. He didn't look fantastic, but he looked better and that made her happy. The bags under his eyes had let up slightly and he was wearing new clothes. Professor Hidgens strode up to the counter, smiling brightly at her. Emma was thankful that Zoey had gone on break because she wasn't very patient with customers that weren't 'normal' so to speak and the Professor was a bit eccentric. 
    "Hey Professor!" Emma sparkled, waving. 
    "Hello Emma, I thought it was only fair that I come return the favor since you payed me a visit last week." He boomed in his powerful voice. 
    "Well, what can I get you?" Emma smiled, gesturing at a large menu above her head.
    The Professor thought carefully, scrunching his nose to show he was deep in thought. His eyes scanned the menu thoroughly. He finally decided on a Chai Latte. Emma gave him directions to sit in the clump of tables closer to the store front, and informed him that she would bring him his coffee. He agreed and marched over to sit. Emma was glad he seemed to be doing so much better. She flew through making his drink, writing 'world's best professor' where she would normally write the customer's name. Emma figured that would make him happy. Her eyes found the clock on the wall. Only 2:35. She figured it was okay to take her break now. She joined Professor Hidgens at his tables and set the drink down carefully in front of him. He scanned the drink. Reading the words scribbled on the sweating plastic in Emma's loopy handwriting. A wide smile spread across his face. They talked quietly for a while, Emma casually slipping in some wellness checks in between her jokes and stories. Before she knew it the hour was up and she needed to go back to work. She looked around, as if to take stock on everything in the small store. There wasn't a single customer in the place. She figured it couldn't hurt to extend her break just a little bit. 
    "Don't you need to get back to working?" Professor Hidgens poked, a hint of something knowing in his voice. 
    "Eh," Emma shrugged with a small smile. "This is more fun." 
    Emma and Professor Hidgens continued their little party in the corner of Beanies, despite the nasty looks she was receiving from Zoey. She flipped her the bird and smiled falsely. Emma didn't consider herself a recluse by any means, but she didn't ever really have the kind of conversation she was having now. She didn't get to laugh and feel understood. She didn't get to care for someone else. Not since her sister's death. And she was definitely not going to let Zoey ruin that for her. 
    The sky burnt orange and pink as the sun began to set. Golden light blared in through the glass store front. The Professor had long since finished his drink and was now fiddling with a pen he had pulled out of his jacket's pocket. Only a few customers had come in for a drink. Nothing Zoey couldn't handle by herself. And she was unwilling to disturb Emma again after she had kindly implied where she could put her opinion. She left thirty minutes before her shift was really over, clicking off the neon open sign hanging in the doorway. Emma could swear she saw a soft smile and curt nod from her usually less than agreeable coworker. Emma knew she needed to close up shop soon. She waited until the Professor was done telling his story before sliding up and out from her chair. 
    "I've got to get home professor, but hold on I'm going to go grab something really quick." She gingerly moved to the kitchen, her converse smacking against the tile floor loudly. 
    Emma quickly folded up the largest delivery box available and began shoving left over food inside. She stockpiled it full of muffins, croissants, cookies, and scones. Spinning on her heals she pulls a cup from the dispensers and begins filling it with their homemade peach iced tea. Emma nimbly placed a lid on top and stabbed a straw through the plastic. She gathered her treasure and made her way out of the kitchen once more. When she returned to the storefront Professor Hidgens was now behind the register, that pen still clutched in his hand. 
    "Here, Professor. This is for you." Emma chided, pushing the coral box and translucent cup towards him. 
    "Emma, I can not except all this from you." He insisted with a slow shake of the head, his gray hair falling slightly out of place. 
    "Come on, sir. We're just going to throw it all out anyway!" That wasn't wholly true, but the items would not be missed. 
    Another smile broke out on Professor Hidgens's face, although he was still shaking his head softly. His protest resolved and he slid the box and cup off the counter and into his arms. He seemed to stroll happily to the door. Emma was excited to see the familiar pep in his step. 
    "You'd better get home soon Emma, if I'm going to see you tomorrow bright and early for class." The Professor practically glowed. 
    "Absolutely. I'll see you then Professor." Emma grinned, the bright smile reaching her eyes. 
    The Professor nodded, pushing out the door and into the parking lot. Emma felt accomplished. She felt great. The professor was going to come to class tomorrow, she was confident he had enough food to at least get him through the week, and he had even left his house to come visit her at work. Emma decided that she needed to get decent sleep for Professor Hidgens's class tomorrow, so she began to clean and close up. She noticed a crumbled napkin at the table the Professor had been sitting at. She ventured over to sweep up what appeared to be a bit of garbage, but before doing so she noticed Professor Hidgens's scribble-y handwriting. She read it out. 
Thank you for stopping by Emma, I was in dire need of a friend. Fantastic service deserves a good tip! ~Professor Hidgens
    Emma detached a twenty dollar bill that had been hidden inside the napkin. She smiled to herself. A friend. She could do with one of those. 
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EOR SE.RA.PH Singularity: Act 4
Leaving the final Act and epilogue... Hopefully this can be done before going back to JP, especially given Reines Case files is ending way earlier than Seraph. I’m heading out for Doujima in the weekend, and grinding for Eater X is going to be hell
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Act 4 (1/4)
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After beating Caesar... It’s still not surprising that there’s more Servants left on the rear side, Cat. Then again... At least no one fell for his smooth-talking this time round. If anything, yes, Cat is one of our iron chef in Chaldea Kitchen!
Gaining Lip immediately as Tamamo Cat’s next disciple... Thankfully she avoided going to actual Beni-Enma’s Hell’s Kitchen to learn. Seeing Melt happy for Lip being able to speak up without worrying on other’s opinions, she eventually appreciate Gudas for not killing her back then. And that’s no way to shoo Emiya Alter away, Cat!
Cat’s case is still surprising for me so far. None of them are Alter Egos class yet potentially to be one... Or given in Lostbelt there’s already one debatable to be either Assassin or Alter Ego. Something that surprise Melt never realized it until now, except Lip
Melt then explained to Cat what part of BB they were based on as she and Lip are completely different from each other. In basic term, Melt is a sadist and Lip is a masochist which hence they are a good pair to each other.
Emiya Alter returns once Melt finished revealing more about herself, asking if Suzuka is the only Sentinel left. With Melt’s guess on where Suzuka is, our next destination is to head for the spine
Before Emiya Alter suggest we take back BB’s advice to defeat Suzuka again the same way we defeat Lip. But, aside from the issue Suzuka has with the original Tamamo... Hope Tama Cat has a way to beat her down then
Act 4 (2/4)
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A dead end instead of a path to the Spine... A good question to learn.... It turns out Sakurament is basically QP where BB make us do the dirty work to collect all even if it’s not necessary. Yeah, I didn’t church allowed sending asshole Arnold to talk to us too, Cat
No shit, we don’t even know about Seraphix in the first place. Anyway, looks like Arnold got the map of the Planetarium we’re looking for. I think he’s more than just cog in the machine, Emiya Alter.... But, we’ll need to settle that later. I think there could be worse people to be in charge, Melt...
Though, we got 25 hours+ left aka 15 minutes before Seraphix sink to the bottom. Thank you for your concern, Lip. But we need to focus on the bigger issue to find Suzuka and get to the planetarium. Guys, Gudas really appreciate your concern for them, BUT LET’S NOT DO SOMETHING CRAZY AS DECIDING TO THROW THEM OUT FOR SERVANTS TO EAT AS MUCH I’D LIKE TO!
And despite their bickering or so, both Lip and Melt are really close to each other. Or, at least once they develop more sense of self and others, they really care for each other a lot. Also again, you’re hiding something, aren’t you, Melt? Nevertheless, we’re still trusting you, no matter what
After Melt giving another talk to the Gudas about herself, we move on to find Suzuka!
Act 4 (3/4)
Reaching to the temple soon... We’re definitely close with Tama Cat confirming her presence. Emiya Alter briefly mentions about who Suzuka is and her historical deeds in the past. To be honest, I don’t know who’s real or not but Tamamo originally IS a nine-tail fox.
Lip’s turn to mention about her tragic love story that she was known for. Yeah for someone supposed to be intellect, I’m guessing all of it went to her high school chunnibyou. Though have to admit, her strength is something with her bloodlust craving for fights.
At the mention of Masters.... WE DEFINITELY HAVE NOT SEEN A SINGLE ONE ASIDE FROM GUDAS! What the hell?! This is still one of the biggest mystery that has been yet to solve...
Anyway, reached her temple at last. Suzuka is right there all ready to kick our ass again. Before that, where’s your Master, Suzuka? .... Okay, looks like she don’t even know who her Master is.... Regardless, we’re not letting you touch Tristan to settle your score for the Holy Grail.
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5~6 turns later... That’s some fucking gimmick to keep herself alive until the finals of the Holy Grail War. Wait Melt... Before we throw that key away, there should be a way to use it from that defective AI. And shut up, Arnold! Spectators should just keep quiet and watch!
And you, Suzuka! Are you okay being that stupid, useless and inferior AI’s Servant?! YEAH, I’M CALLING YOU A FLUNKY, CHUNNIBYOU! Tama’s right, you’re nothing but a puppet to that stupid AI right now! If you’re really planning to follow your Master’s wish, then let’s end this properly!!
Thanks to Tama Cat’s trap... Time to unlock her heart! I’m feeling sorry for Hakunos at this point.... Relax we don’t event want to do this. Blame the fucking writer who needs everything to be a sex scene.
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One showdown of Suzuka and her boyfriend Hijikata later.... Not so fast on the dramatic suicide, Suzuka! Yeah, you’re definitely way too dramatic, Suzuka! There’s such thing of people dying of a broken heart... But, you’re perfectly fine! For a previously married divine goddess, there’s nothing about you like a high school girl...
Argh enough drama! Cat, do your job and smack-talk some sense into her! And we’re the winner, so we decided you get to live or not. And, we take the former of you living to join us! I’ll pass on your friend request... Social media been avoiding weird people to add later on Facebook in particular
Before we go back, another earthquake? Wait... This is..... The Demon God Pillar Zepar!! Why the---What the fuck?! It turned the whole area upside down!! We’re saved, but Melt took the hit for Gudas!!!
I don’t think they can understand us, Lip! And if we’re at the lowest... Oh fuck that’s where Zepar is supposed to be reborn!!!
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Eight hours before we bottom! And we’re already long before you start yapping, Arnold! We’re going to save Melt, so no, we’re not going back without Melt! Lastly, you’re not even the boss of us so peace out!
Suzuka’s direction is helpful now we can get back to business. Enough of arguing who’s coming, and don’t you implied Lip’s weight, Suzuka! It’s just you and Gudas, so do your job properly.
Meanwhile, Melt woken up to remember she fallen while saving the Gudas. The Rejection Calf aka the Disposal area... Her legs broke from the fell back there. Her body has really hit her limit ever since the arrival of Gudas. Closing her eyes, she reminiscence her memories with the Gudas and more about her true thoughts.
Thankfully, the Gudas picked her out of there before she got destroyed once and for all. Gripping tight of her hand and ignoring the harem yapping, we got to get out of there before 3 Shapeshifter, 3 Eaters and 1 fucking giant Rider boar coming at us!!!
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.... And there’s more! Yup, I agree with you there, Suzuka. THIS IS COMPLETELY FUCKING BULLSHIT!!! Hey, don’t forget the rope to get us out of there!! And... The rope was cut?! What the hell?!!
But... Tristan is here and he managed to save us! Oh right, you flew with that harp of yours in Halloween event.... That’s another way to get us out of there, or not. Let’s create a camp session until someone picked up up. Tempting to beat Arnold, but that’s a goner. Wait, Cruel Thenar... Melt’s former workplace? .... I guess a pathetic AI decided to use her brains for once to save us
Ah typical loser who decided to squish the final two contestant just to get her reward. Well, where’s our supposed next battle with you? Now? Yeah yeah, you may have a certain thing like Tiamat, Goetia and so on. You’re in the end just an AI who felt the need to better herself than everyone at how fucking weak you really are. A sad case, truly.
Hold on, mistake? Weren’t you the one started this whole stupid mess?! How the hell did things fucked up!! And knew it, obviously she’s going to send us down than up
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Meanwhile... Good thing Arnold’s not a Master, otherwise, I’d like to see him the first Master get betrayed and screwed by his Servant. Considering he heartlessly get both his Director and Deputy Director killed... And now trying to get Gudas to obey him by force
And since Emiya Alter is here? Or the one who betrayed us too.... Yeah, thank you for doing everyone a favor to kill him. It’s about time someone needs to kill off that irritating character. And Mable? Oh why her?! Wait... You killed them to prevent Animusphere experiment...?
But the voice that attacked Emiya Alter... OKAY WHAT THE FUCK? That’s like an interior of a demon pillar! I thought we killed that!! This person talking to Emiya Alter is someone he knew well, given how they now spoke about themselves...
And the bloodied past, of Emiya Alter... Taunting him as the whole screen now turned bloody too. So, they are the ones who killed Gawain too! Whatever Emiya Alter have his reason, he needed to kill them in our world since he already know what they will be like in a certain distant future.
Act 4 (4/4)
Definitely right at the bottom of where Melt’s workplace originally is... At the most painful landing ever. Melt then explained Cruel Thenar was once a place to excavated oil... Aka finding leylines in truth. Oh, you want us to enter your heart?
That makes things easier in a sense. Nah, it’s fine, it’s more annoying to beat around the bush, Lip. Yeah we got the key after we ripped off from that AI before falling down. Well... At least, we got a job to do. Oh please, not all of Gudas are interested in woman. There’s this called of “I’m gay and my life is hell in a harem manga”, so there. With Lip’s advice, time to enter her heart to unlock this area!
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And WE’RE FUCKING DONE WITH HER! DW just give us a fucking Anti-Alter Ego class already!!! But with that down, Melt then showed us a way to the Planetarium via her territory. And.... We’re back at the front! That’s enough rest, you’re coming with us back to the church. So keep quiet or we’ll drop and break your legs here!
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No one is here to greet us... Where did Mable and Arnold go? What the... Emiya Alter is not even here! Before that... Some AI dropped a nice invitation to go beat her up. Hey, it’s not like we didn’t beat her over and over again like she deserved it under Martha’s punch.
That’s right, Tristan. It’s gone far too long for this Holy Grail War. With Melt back at the chapel resting, we head off to the core to get Ruler Martha, Amakusa and Jeanne to gang up on her.
After we left, Melt then begans her own monologue. Thinking there should be a way out for Gudas, she hope Suzuka, Tristan and Cat eventually found a way to do so.
And really done for the day... Literally.... Because all my energy was wasted in walking with an eventually broken shoe, running back to my house to wear a new one before heading for my interview is gone. Plus, today’s also happened to be one of the many worst days.... I’m going to need sleep before grinding some quest for KP
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scipunk63 · 6 years
Text
One Step Ahead of the Devil: Chapter 2
(Written during the Gravity Falls marathon for @forduary at the inspiration of my co-writer @hntrgurl13 )
There's something magical about sleep. The peacefulness, the way that peace can be broken by a sudden dream, memory, nightmare- Or your roommate kicking you down to the ground suddenly to wake you.
"I'm all for you sleeping and what not-" Fiddleford sighed, "But class starts in 20 minutes and you have a visitor."
Ford groaned and glared up at the man. His eyes were still stinging from sleep and his back hurt from the sudden tumble he had been forced to take. It was definitely a Thursday then. Thursday was the only day they had classes as early as-
"Its 2 in the afternoon!? How long was I asleep for!?" Ford exclaimed, scrambling upright.
"Hard to tell, actually." Fiddleford said. "You were talking to yourself in your sleep but before that you had your face so buried in this books that I didn't notice anything."
"Why didn't you wake me sooner when you found out!?" Ford stood and took a quick glance in his mirror. Hair was a mess, shirt was days old, and the bags under his eyes were almost blue. It put his mind at ease knowing that he looked like himself and not a total mess. Their class was a ten minute walk anyhow, and the other ten had to go to this "visitor" and not a shower. With a final nod of approval, he started for the door.
But was then stopped by Fiddleford.
"You can't greet your mother looking like that!" He said, handing Ford a mug of coffee from their desk. "Go make yourself look presentable."
"I look fine and I AM fine." Ford huffed, chugging the coffee quickly to prove his point- "Wait- My Mother is here!?"
"I just said that she was." A roll of the eyes. "Learn to listen, Stanford."
"I'll take a listening class so long as you take one on lying! Why didn't you just tell her that I was busy or not here?"
Rubbing his temple, Stanford took off towards the dorm room bathroom and grabbed the first bottle of whatever was on the counter and applied it to his face.
"That's toothpaste. The shaving creme is-" Fiddleford ducked to avoid the tube from hitting him in the face. "I was going to tell her you weren't here, but I got nervous! That woman may be a pathological liar, but she can sniff out a rat no problem!"
"Pines family curse." Ford sighed, wincing at the cooling sensation of the toothpaste as he used it to shave with. It was almost pleasant, and it certainly helped to wake him up. "We know when to tell if someone is trying to scam us."
"Well, I'm not a Pines, so your mother saw right through me. Now hurry up so I can let her in."
Wiping his face off with his shirt, Stanford was quick to strip out of it and toss it aside. He then grabbed another shirt that surely couldn't be that dirty and wiggled into it, stopping only once to pull his head out of the sleeve and to correctly push it through the neckhole. It only killed about two minutes, and surely 8 would be enough for his mother's visit. With that, he returned to their room.
"How do I look?" Not that he cared.
"Sweet Sally, you somehow look worse than before you." Fiddleford said. "Its perfect. She won't suspect a thing."
"Thanks..." Ford said before tossing open the door to reveal his mother.
She looked awfully angry with him. Her arms were folded under her chest, and her nose was turned up a little. One- er, two things with her that surprised Ford was his father and his baby sister standing behind her.
"So, you're studies are too important for you to get your damn door?" She huffed. "You go to college and you suddenly think you're some hot-shot college boy?"
"Ma- Its good to see you." Hopefully she wouldn't detect his lies.
"Likewise. Now go get yourself cleaned up. We're going out for a late lunch." Ma said, "You're friend can come too."
"L-lunch? Ma, we have class-"
"They won't miss you if you only have one class today." Ma rolled her eyes. "Now hurry up."
"Ma-" Ford sighed and shuffled back to the bathroom. He might have studied fierce and horrifying monsters, but none of that could prepare him for dealing with his mother. Even as a grown ass man who paid his own taxes now.
He could heard Fiddleford quietly loosing his Southern shit over the whole ordeal. The logical side of Ford's brain made note to purchase a foghorn during lunch and setting it off at an ungodly hour as payback. But that would have to wait until after lunch. Revenge wouldn't be as sweet if he had to execute it as a spirit because his mother killed him for rejecting her lunch offer. Perhaps that was the foreboding he had felt earlier on. Just a little visit with his family and-
"Ma? Wait- Dad!?" That voice had Ford racing to his bathroom window and tossing it open so hard that the screen fell off.
"Sixer...?" He could hear Stanley's voice clear as day and that made him decide that escaping now and taking an ear lashing on the phone later would be best.
Ma, he could handle. No issue, but there was no way he would even think to be in the same room as HIM again. Or at least, not yet anyway. Nope, he was just going to make a hasty escape now and try again later.
"Don't you dare-" He could hear his mom about after him, a few seconds too late as he was soon out of the window and into a nearby bush with the window screen.
Call it juvenile, but he was soon running for his life from his family. Undoubtedly, his roommate was searching frantically for their Polaroid camera to document this historic moment that the usually put-together, hard working Stanford Pines climbed out of a bathroom window to avoid being seen by his twin... And then promptly hit his head on a low hanging tree branch that he hadn't seen in his way.
.
.
.
There was something magical about sleep. One second you're running, and the next second you're in the back of a rented van with a pounding headache and a bag of ice on your head. Oh, and you wake up to everyone trying not to laugh at your stupidity. All except for Stanley, who offered a worried smile that Ford promptly ignored in favor of glaring at his parents in the front seats.
"Glad you could join us." Ma said, smiling into the rearview mirror at her son. "You're going to love this place, and it's only five minutes from your school!"
"This is abduction, mother." Stanford huffed. "I am being driven there against my will."
"Oh, hush. It's just lunch and then we drop you right back at school." Ma said. "It'll be fun."
"No. We have to make a quick stop at the CVS to get copies of your friend's pictures." Filbrick said sternly.
"Yes, those were just too cute-"
"Epseically the one of your stupid ass passed out on the sidewalk." Filbrick said. "We're getting that one framed."
"You looked like a little sleepy bear cub." All the blood in Stanford's body rushed up to his ears, and he pushed himself back into the car seat in an attempt to make himself smaller.
It was bad enough that he was stuck in a car with this lot, but being embaressed by them was even worse-
"Cheer up, bro." Stanley's voice was grating as ever, but still not the worst thing in the car right now. "Its not as bad as that sailor suit picture-"
"Oh! Thank you for reminding me, Stanley." Ma exclaimed. "I need to get that one put out too!"
Stanford groaned louder, slipping so far down in his seat that he was only one more groan away from laying on the floor. Just lunch or not, this was definitely going to be the longest day of his life-
"We're here." His dad muttered. "Everyone out."
Well, at least that hadn't taken too long. One thing down at least. Maybe he would be out of here before he knew it. With that in mind, he pulled himself up and got out of the car to join the others inside.
It was a nice place. Light coloured walls, some fake flowers on the walls- just a typical diner it looked like. The large tables were also a bonus, as it left Stanford with the option of sitting as far away from everyone else as possible. Yes. He was almost certain he could sit through lunch.
"It'll only be a half-hour- 45 minutes at the most-" He told himself. "No big deal."
.
He never liked to admit when he was wrong, but this time he knew he was wrong. The family had been sitting for 20 minutes now without saying a word to each other, and it was clear now that no one was going to leave that table until they ALL had a decent conversation with each other. This trip was starting to feel more like an interrogation than a lunch date with family.
"So, how is everyone?" Ma started. "Stanley? How's work?"
"Oh, you know... Just got another rabies shot is all." Stanley said. "The usual."
That almost made Ford feel bad for his twin, but his father's sudden grunt scared him back to reality.
"Still don't see why HE had to come with." Filbrick scoffed. "Thought you said we were just coming to visit Stanford."
"I know what I said, Filbrick." Ma snapped. "When I said the whole family, I meant the whole family."
"But Ma, what about Shermie?" Ford piped up suddenly, against his better judgement.
All eyes were on him suddenly. According to his Human Sociology class, that meant that he was now apart of the conversation and that thet were waiting for him to make a comment. He should've trusted his judgement.
"A-anyhow." He coughed, looking into his cup of coffee as if it held all of his answers.
"Kids got a point. Why bring Stanley with if we don't have the "whole" family too." Filbrick said, tension growing.
"Because Ma invited me and I said I would pay for myself." Stanley snapped, pushing himself from the table. "Sorry I wasn't jackass enough to say no to her!"
Ford jumped, actually startled by the sudden outburst. Sure, he knew Stanley wasn't that smart, but he was usually smart enough NOT to talk to their father that way. It almost made him wonder what had happened to Stanley since he last saw him that gave him such tough skin.
"Excuse me, boy?" Filbrick's tone change was one Stanford recognized as the voice he used to intimidate.
That voice was startling when he was a child and it was still startling now. He could see that it had shaken Stanley too, but his twin remained standing.
"You heard me..." Stanley said, turning towards the restaurant exit. "I'll just go then."
"NO!" Ma certainly had everyone in the restaurant's attention now. "I don't care what Stanley did to Stanford or what he said you you, we are going to sit here and have a family lunch and pretend to love each other, God damn it!"
Ford felt the blood return to his ears as he pulled the coffee mug up to hide it. This was definitely going to be the longest lunch visit of his life. But with their lives and his mother's happiness on the line, he began to try and remind himself that it was just one day.
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derangedangel · 6 years
Text
Distraction Part 3 - Theo Raeken
Summary: You realize your feelings for Theo, but he’s reluctant to hearing you out. 
Word Count: 1,902
Author’s Note: This is the final part of the series. For some reason there’s a lot of bluntness. Why beat around the bush? And Theo still has a beard, not that it’s important but I love Cody with a beard. I need him to never shave. 
Part 1 Part 2 
Masterlist
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“I fucked up,” you said into your phone as soon as you heard hello.
“Alright, so I see we’re just skipping the greeting part of the conversation today,” Lydia replied to your blunt statement.
“Sorry Lyds. I just…,” you rubbed your free hand over you face annoyed with yourself. “You were right.”
“Of course I was right… Right about what?”
“Theo,” you sighed. “Something was going on. I didn’t really lie when I said he wasn’t worth mentioning. When I first saw him at the pep rally, I didn’t care to mention it to you. But then things changed.”
“Changed how,” Lydia asked intrigued.
“Well, we sort of, kind of had a no strings attached thing happening.”
“You what,” Lydia shouted into the phone.
“I was stressed with school and I didn’t want a relationship and he was there looking all good. You saw him with that beard Lydia.”
“I did.” Lydia nodded agreeing with you even though you couldn’t see it.
“I was using him to relax. And we both agreed there would be no emotional attachment-“
“But you got attached.”
“Only after he did,” you admitted.
“So what’s the problem? He likes you and you like him,” Lydia pointed out confused at what the dilemma was.
“I may have turned him away when I realized he had feelings for me,” you answered wincing like you were in pain.
“Y/N,” Lydia spoke as if she was a disappointed parent.
“I know, but we had an agreement. No feelings. Then he got jealous and punched a guy I was talking to. I had to end things. I don’t want a relationship.” You stopped then corrected yourself. “I didn’t want a relationship.”
“Then tell him Y/N.  If he likes you, then he should be ecstatic that you like him back.”
“I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”
“I really think you’re making this more complicated than it has to be.”
“You don’t see the look he gives me every time I see him,” you said slumping over in the spot on your bed. “I’ll look up and see him smiling with his friends in the caf, then he sees me and his smile drops. Or I’m going into Starbucks and he’s coming out, then he sees me and turns in the opposite direction. He goes out of his way to avoid me. I can’t just go up to him and tell him I like him after how I treated him.”
“Yes you can,” Lydia replied smiling into the phone. She could tell you really liked Theo from how frustrated the situation was making you. She was always worried about you since Brett was killed. She couldn’t imagine losing Stiles or what it would do to her. She was always a little extra protective of you because you reminded her of herself. Plus with the supernatural drama, you needed as many people as you could looking out for you.
“Why are you acting like this is so easy? It’s not Classical Latin.”
Lydia giggled into the phone. Only you and her would think Classical Latin was easy. “It seems like you know Theo pretty well. Find a way to get him alone and just tell him how you feel. Let him know why you pushed him away. You’re just now telling me about this thing with Theo and I can already figure out why you didn’t want a relationship.”
You fell back into your pillows already knowing where this conversation was going. You were never ready for these types of discussions.
“Honey,” Lydia paused a second before she brought up the topic you were dreading. “Brett would want you to move on. It’s been over a year. You can date someone new and still care about him. Theo knows about what happened to Brett, but you have to talk to him about it if you want him to understand.”
“Can’t I just tell him I like him and that be it,” you whined.
“You know that won’t work.”
“I know,” you sighed.
“Theo,” you yelled running up to the chimera. He turned around for a brief second before narrowing his eyes at you then turning back around to continue with his friends. Once you caught up to him, you grabbed his arm and turned him to face you.
“Theo, can you please talk to me,” you said looking into his eyes then gazed around to his friends who stopped as well.
“I’m just giving you what you want, Y/N,” Theo looked at you almost like he was disgusted. He eyes squinted glancing over you. “We can’t see each other anymore, remember,” he asked yanking his arm from your grasp.
“I know what I said, but I just didn’t know how to deal. I- I,” you were focused on Theo, but it was hard to confess your feelings with his friends staring at you. “Um, can we go somewhere private and talk?”
“I’ve got nothing to say. And I think you already said everything you needed too.” Theo turned and began walking away from you, his friends a few feet ahead. You wanted to talk to him alone, but you could never catch him.
“I like you Theo,” you blurted out not caring if anyone heard.
Theo stopped in his tracks briefly. Your hands clasped together in front of you, your fingers wringing together nervously. You hated putting yourself out there. The fear of rejection slowly destroying your self-esteem.
Theo calmly and slowly walked up to you staring into your somber eyes. “You don’t like me. You just miss having someone lay underneath you for a few hours. You miss another warm body next to you. You don’t need me. Wait five more minutes and another guy will walk by who can take my place.”
You were speechless at Theo’s speech and apathetic tone. Maybe you were too late. Once again, you stood there watching Theo walk away from you. This time hurt much more than the last.
“You were wrong,” you said announcing your presence in Theo’s dorm.
“Y/N,” Theo said shocked. He dropped his bag on the floor and stared at you as you stepped closer to him. “How’d you get in here?”
“Your suitemate is easily persuaded by food. He let me in for a Taco Bell gift card.”
Theo rolled his eyes and sighed. “What do you want?”
“To tell you that you were wrong the other night. I do like you,” you admitted. “And I’m sorry for pushing you away when I realized you liked me. I handled the situation wrong, but I was scared.”
“Scared of what,” Theo asked annoyed. He was just ready for you to leave. His was done dealing with you.  
“Of you.” You paused for a moment collecting your thoughts. “Of feeling again. Of getting hurt.” You closed your eyes before you spoke again. “Of forgetting Brett.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. You were scared to expose yourself to someone like this, but you needed to do it for Theo.
Theo’s eyebrows furrowed as he tilted his head. He knew about you and Brett. He sort of figured that was why you weren’t looking for a relationship, but you never brought him up in your time together.
“Y/N,” Theo started but you interrupted him.
“No,” you raised your hand, “let me finish.” Theo nodded and you continued. “When Brett was killed, it destroyed me. We were young, but we knew that was it for us. I still love Brett. I’m never going to stop.” Your eyes began to get damp as you spoke, and you looked away from Theo’s eyes that felt like they were staring into your soul. “I knew eventually I would date again but I didn’t have any plans to do that while in college. I wanted to stay focused on school. No boys. Then you showed up.” You looked back into Theo’s piercing eyes at your last statement. “It was just supposed to be sex. I wasn’t ready for anything more. Then I started having feelings and getting attached. But getting attached leads to getting hurt. And I still love Brett. I’m not over him. I’m never going to get over him,” you started babbling faster and faster as tears streamed down your face.
Theo walked up to you and grabbed your hands to stop them from flying everywhere and focused your attention on him. “I don’t expect you to get over him, Y/N. You loved him and I don’t need or expect that to just go away. But you can’t hide forever and avoid feeling anything for anyone.”
“I know,” you managed to sniffle out through your tears. “But a piece of me feels like I’m betraying him by moving on. He was murdered and his killer is still out there. And I’m in school living my life like nothing happened.”
“You’re not living your life like nothing happened. You’re doing what you’re supposed to do. If he really did love you, he would want you to continue on with your life. You’re not supposed to put your life on pause to go hunt down Monroe. And it’s okay to move on. You can still love him and date. You don’t have to wait years to be in a relationship again.”
Theo was still holding your hands but they were down at your sides now. “I know, but it’s easier said than done. That’s why I pushed you away. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. I understand. I just need you to talk to me instead of jumping off at the handle.” Theo let go of your hand and cupped your cheek with his hand. He wiped away a stray tear before it rolled past you cheek. You squeezed his hand happy to have him close again.
“I’ll try. I just don’t want to get hurt again. And I don’t want to hurt you.”
Theo smiled at you and your heart leaped in your chest. “I’m pretty tough. I think I’ll be fine. And I promise if you let me in, I’ll try my hardest to never hurt you. I can’t guarantee it’ll be easy, but it’ll sure as hell will be worth it.”
“Okay,” you spoke quietly as you nodded and smiled back at Theo.
“Okay?”
“Yeah. Let’s try this.” Your smile grew wider watching Theo’s grow bigger as well.
“So you’ll let me take you out on a date?”
“Yeah,” you answered reaching up with your free hand to lay on Theo’s chest.
“In public,” Theo asked clarifying.
“Yes, Theo,” you giggled.
“And I can hold your hand like this?” He raised your interlaced fingers up.
“Yes.” You nodded smiling at his persistent questioning.
“And I can kiss you like this,” Theo asked leaning in joining your lips together. You tilted your head to let Theo have better access to your lips. His lips overlapped with yours and your body relaxed more as his thumb stroked over your cheek. He bit your bottom lip gently when he pulled back. You inhaled trying to catch the breath Theo took away.
“You can definitely do more of that,” you nodded licking your lips. Your fist loosened up letting go of the cotton fabric of his white cotton t-shirt.
Theo smirked watching you put yourself back together. “So we have an agreement then?”
You rolled your eyes at Theo’s choice of words but answered regardless. “Yeah, we have an agreement.”
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shaniahnoel · 7 years
Text
Buttercup Pt 2/?
A/N: I’m not sure how long this will go on, but I’ll keep writing as long as ideas keep flowing. I’m sorry there hasn’t been a lot of great Sweet Pea interaction, but it’s coming, I promise! I got a little sidetracked fleshing out protective cousin Fangs and making sure there’s more to this tale than the two of them!
Let me know what you think! 
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 1985ish
Part One / Part Three
“But yeah, I just became an official Serpent this past summer. Mom was a little nervous after dad went to jail. Of course, that wasn’t his fault, his buddy had one too many strikes so dad took the heat. She still worries a bit now because we do stupid stuff, but she trusts the brotherhood.”
Sophia was absolutely absorbed with Fangs’ tale. It was nothing she expected from a gang, especially not from the South Side. It was like icy water dousing out all of her mom’s lies as she realized how stupid she’d been. The Serpents sounded like a family. A family that wasn’t as breakable as hers. Hair on the back of her neck stood up and she turned to find herself staring into Sweet Pea’s chocolate eyes.  Somehow, she felt that he’d been staring at her the whole time Fang had been talking. When he said nothing, she turned back towards Fangs. As she did the serpent peeking out from P’s leather collar caught her eye.  
“Where’s your tattoo?”
Fang lifted his shirt in response. Over his heart coiled the serpent.  
“Any reason you chose the neck?”
Silence greeted her question.
“Y’know,” she started as she began turning back to face him again, “instead of SP, I think I’ll go with ST…for Silent Treatment.”
Sweet Pea’s lip twitched, but he didn’t say a word until Sophia let out a huff of air.
“What do you care, Northsider?”
Poor Fang looked to be between a rock and a hard place. Sweet Pea had been on super polite mode at his house, but his Aunt had pushed him to his limits. It became quickly apparent that the bottled Northsider rage was slowly seeping out at his cousin. Plus, Sophia was her own spitfire. Annoyed by his growing unpleasantries, she resorted to her specialty: sassiness.
“Well, Fangs is my cousin. I like hanging out with him. He likes hanging out with the Serpents. Odds are, I’ll get to hang out with him more if his friends like me. So, call me crazy, but I’m attempting to be your friend.”
“Yeah, yeah. That was a great speech at Fangs’ but how long slumming it ‘til you’re tired of your little Northsider rebellion and go running home to mommy about the stupid Serpents. Wouldn’t want your GPA to drop, Ivy League.”
“Yo, P, that’s not cool.” Fangs interjected, stepping between him and Sophia. “That’s my cousin you’re talking to.”
Sweet Pea stared at Fangs for a hard second. Before either could say another word, Sophia spoke up.
“It’s whatever, honestly. If he doesn’t want me around that’s fine. I wanted to spend time with your mom any way.”
She sauntered off without a backwards glance. If high society had taught her anything, it was to never let them see you cry. Fang rammed his elbow into Sweet Pea’s side, glaring at him. To his credit Sweet Pea looked slightly abashed.
The next morning began a little awkwardly. Sophia had been pretending to be asleep in his bed when he got back, so he crashed on the couch. In the morning, she carefully avoided being alone with him until finally his mom sent them both to prepare lunch. Immediately he tried to apologize, but Sophia held up a hand.
“Look, that was a crappy thing. But, it wasn’t your crappy thing. If he wants to hate me for being a Northsider, it’s whatever. His loss.”
“That’s not fair. You’re different.”
Sophia snorted. “Am I? It took me a solid two years to muster up the courage to convince mom to get over here again. Why? Because I just accepted everything she told me. By P’s standards that probably makes me even worse… I rejected my family on the Southside.”
Fangs mouth opened and closed as he tried to find the proper words. It was crazy to him how she already understood Sweet Pea, almost like she was in the bushes when they talked the night before. Seeing that she had hit a glimpse of the truth, Sophia pressed on.
“I gotta make it up to you guys. Maybe that’ll fix his issue, maybe it won’t. I’m just worried about my family. If things are good with you, then I’m good.”
Fangs gave her a relieved smile and they moved on with the day. He chose not to go out with the Serpents and so the three spent the day inside playing board games and talking about old times. They were in tears laughing when a solid knock came at the door. With the other two incapacitated, Sophia ran to open the door.
“Hi!” Sophia said brightly, startling the girl in the doorway.
“You must be Sophia,” the girl responded, looking her up and down appraisingly.
“Right-o. And you?”
“That, dear cousin, is the marvelous Toni Topaz.” Fangs said cheerfully from the doorway. He came over and gave the pink haired girl a brotherly hug. Sophia could hear Rachel scrambling to get up in the living room. Clearly, Toni was a favorite. Hopefully easier to please than Sweet Pea, Sophia thought to herself.
“Great to meet you, Toni. I’m currently kicking butt in Uno, feel free to join in if you’d like yours handed to you as well. He’s already lost twice.” Sophia nodded her head toward Fangs who immediately perked up.
“I did not lose twice. You cheated twice. It’s completely different.”
“Uh huh, suuuure.”
Toni chuckled at the display before her. The person Sweet Pea painted, didn’t seem to be the one standing before her. Or laying before her might be the more accurate term as the cousins were currently engaged in some sort of wrestling match.
“Y’know, I thought you two may have matured by now.”
“Can Fangs and maturity exist together?” The two girls questioned Rachel in unison. The three women burst into laughter as Fangs tried to glare.
“You’re alright, Northside.”
Sophia gave Toni a small smile. She recognized the word as nickname, not slur. Maybe it wasn’t acceptance, but it was steps further than her relationship with the other Serpent. Toni accepted the invite to play and they went a few rounds, laughing together.
That evening, Fangs went out with the Serpents and Rachel took Sophia home. The two of them sang along to every song on the radio, laughing at some of the ridiculous commercials. Sophia was feeling lighter and more carefree than she had in months. That is until they reached the end of her driveway. Her car was pulled out of the driveway, sitting in front of the house. Dozens of boxes sat in and around it. Judging by the slightly damp feel of some they’d been out in the night. Thankfully, it hadn’t rained. Sealed tightly in a plastic bag under the wiper was a note:
               Sophia,
I’m so glad that I went to dinner with my sister. It led to a great revelation. I realized that I needed to cut all ties to the South Side. I tried to tell you, but you didn’t listen. You’ve chosen the South Side. I want nothing to do with someone who would bring such dishonor to a name I worked hard to protect. The locks are changed, all that you may keep is given to you. As an act of kindness, I will allow you to take the car as well. You’ll need it if you have any hopes of future plans, as I cannot trust college funds to someone so reckless. I’m sure my sister will be more than willing to help yet another lost cause.
Sophia read through the note twice, trying to make some sense of the words she was reading. Her aunt came to her side and read over her shoulder. When she got to the end, she put her arms around Sophia who quickly shrugged her off. Glancing up at the house, she saw a curtain flutter. Never let them see you cry, she reminded herself.
“Well…” she began, “Are you taking in anymore lost causes?”
The words were shallow with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. There were so many words Rachel wanted to say in that moment, and so many objects she wanted to throw through the windows of the estate behind her. However, none seemed just right. With watery eyes she nodded at her niece and began loading some of the straggling boxes into her car as well. She stroked Sophia’s cheek before getting in and heading back to the South Side. She couldn’t help but glance continually back at the convertible behind her, marveling at how strong her niece was acting in the moment.
Generally a Saturday would have made moving things along impossible, but Serpents weren’t without their connections. It was established that Sophia’s mother had cut off all ties, and the letter basically declared her abandoned. They started on the paperwork for Rachel to become her legal guardian, but would need to wait until the work week to put it all through. The same was true for her school registration. It took several rounds of fighting before Rachel realized she wouldn’t budge about wanting to transfer to South Side High and so she promised to start on that first thing on Monday.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to get Fangs home?” Rachel asked as they moved boxes into the empty room on the second floor.
“Nah, he’s with the Serpent’s, right? I don’t feel like becoming the North Side sob story right now. I’ll just surprise them all in school. It’ll be a good laugh.”
“Soph, you’re taking this really well. Too well.”
“I’m fine. I told you, I’m just happy to have family that cares about me for me. It’s a relief not to have her expectations looming over.”
“Okay,” Rachel responded, “Dinner’ll be ready in about an hour.”
Sophia could tell her aunt wasn’t convinced but was trying to give her space to process. She waited until the door clicked behind her to collapse onto the worn mattress in the middle of the room. She bit her fist to stifle her cries. The sobs shuddered through her body as she drowned in her sorrows. So intent was she in keeping the meltdown quiet that she didn’t hear the quiet steps up the stairs or the soft creak of the door.
The smell of pine filled her nose as Fangs arms wrapped around her. Rachel must have called him anyway. It’d been years, but this wasn’t the first time her cousin had seen her go through the panic attacks. He held her firmly, yet loosely. Letting her sob freely into his shirt. He murmured words that meant nothing, just providing a comforting rhythm. When her frantic breathing slowed, Fangs pushed himself back slowly to look her in the eyes.
“You good?” he asked, his voice tense. Sophia could tell it’d been awhile since he’d dealt with someone crying.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just got a little overwhelmed is all.”
“It’s okay to not be okay, Soph.”
“Your mom blames herself. She thinks if she’d bit her tongue at dinner we coulda avoided all of this. I don’t want her to feel any worse about it.”
“And you think she buys your fake I-don’t-care-attitude?”
“No… but, they do say ‘fake it ‘til you make it.’”
“Alright, I’ll give you that. So what’s the game plan there, Buttercup?”
Sophia rolled her eyes. “Blossom was the leader, idiot. But, I was planning to come and visit more anyways. So I just cut out the travel time. I’m going to go to South Side High, and hopefully no one steals my convertible.”
“Wait,” Fangs began, eyes huge, “You’re coming to South Side. What about your prep place?”
Sophia didn’t answer at first, weighing her words.
“I guess…I guess I don’t want to end up like her. I don’t want to be spoiled North Sider anymore. I want to get to actually know people for who they are, and I wanna do my future my way.”
A/N: Obviously I don’t own any of the Riverdale characters, but Sophia and her relationship with our beloved Sweet Pea are my personal creation as well as the plot lines herein. There may be some basis on events currently happening in Riverdale, but not necessarily.
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taeguboi · 7 years
Text
“Tease” [TaeJin Fluff/Smut] PART 01
Pairing - BTS V / Taehyung ¦¦ Jin / Seokjin
Summary: What happens when the social butterfly gets a fluttering feeling of his own?
Kim Seokjin. The reason Taehyung has been visiting the local entertainment store daily without fail for the past 2 weeks. At best, the variety the vicinity had to offer was mediocre for Taehyung’s eclectic music tastes and was usually exceptional enough to drop into once a fortnight or something...
Since the arrival of the new employee however, his money had been squandered on: 2 deluxe versions of CDs he already has, 5 DVDs, a pair of headphones - perhaps the only thing he actually needed - and 4 posters that sadly stand rolled up in the corner of his room, like Christmas wrapping paper that you forget about when you’ve bought too much of it, buying to gift 30 people and then realizing you have 4 friends to buy for…
But he doesn’t mind. Every trip so far has proved worthwhile, never failing to conjure up a conversation with the cutie behind the till who has surprisingly been on shift there every time… it’s almost too perfect.
Entering the store once more on a quiet Friday evening, after college as always, Taehyung paces straight to the end of the first aisle down which he can see Seokjin knelt restocking the vinyl shelves. He should be used to this by now, approaching the guy, but there’s this adrenaline that fills his system every time he is about to greet the man.
“Hello stranger” Taehyung coyly smiles, looking down onto the attractive broad shoulders of the elder.
Now, usually Taehyung would only go for someone more around his own age, specifically the cute little mochi with the Busan accent that used to work at the local convenience store down the road from his house that sadly moved out of town… He swears to God if this guy moves away too, he’s resorting to online shopping…
They’ve talked about everything over the past days - culture, food, sports, tv… you name it, and it’s given Taehyung sufficient knowledge about his newfound crush, bar the mystery of the man’s sexuality,
“Ah, I was wondering when you would come over here first” Seokjin asserts, flustering Taehyung a tad.
There was a truth to that, Taehyung can’t deny; just coming into the store more often than usual was courageous enough for Taehyung. You wouldn’t think it if you saw him around college, socializing with literally everyone on the premises, but when he spots a guy he really likes, that confidence just disappears and he’s a completely different person.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Taehyung knowingly smirks in response.
He knows he’s a sucker for a cute guy and when he falls, he falls hard; always has, always will, the most cringe-worthy example being in the final year of high school when he had this huge thing for the school prodigy Jeon Jeongguk who was placed in a lot of Taehyung’s classes… He was such a boisterous, informal teenager that could talk to everyone and anyone, until this guy sat next to him one day and bam - jelly legs, empty stomach, dizzy head…
“Although this does mean you’ve already broken our little tradition…” Seokjin replies, bringing himself to his feet. “But since the store is so dead today, there’s little point in beating around the bush… Now, how can I help you today?”
“I’m thinking of just chilling out on the couch tonight with a film, so…”
“Then allow me to escort you to the film aisle” Seokjin jests, bowing his head down and pointing in the right direction, to which Taehyung chuckles as he leads the way.
*
The boys pace minutely across the floor, engaging in conversation about the different films and tv series that Taehyung points at
“See, I really like stuff like this,” Taehyung begins, picking up a copy of an earlier series of the anime Detective Conan, “and it would be ace to collect stuff like this, but I kind of think it’s worthless when it’s all available online, like I don’t think it’s good enough to pay for when it’s all free…”
“Yeah, I feel you man, like some things are worth buying even when they’re available for free online, and it’s nicer to have a solid copy of something, but there are some series that can feel a little repetitive in that sense I suppose… So like what you have there, I feel is more something that is nice to watch one or two episodes of to kill an hour or take a break from a challenging task… I probably shouldn’t be saying this when I work in a store like this though, right?” Seokjin laughs.
They move onto the film section of the DVD aisle, inspecting the shelves that hold special offers. All the ‘classics’ that everyone has known and seen that show up on normal tv channels every weekend… With some exceptions.
“Ah…” Seokjin mildly grins, pointing at a darker dvd case. “Have you seen it?”
“Uh, I… Yes” Taehyung hesitantly replies, not wanting to seem like a complete and utter pervert as he registers which DVD Seokjin is talking about…
“Everyone always raves about it, but I don’t know… What did you think of it?”
Taehyung at this point is having an internal freak out right now. How is Seokjin asking these questions so calmly and seriously? Taehyung hasn’t even had time to contemplate whether he will be comfortable talking about such topics around this guy… Why must he have pointed at that film in particular? Why not just have a perfectly innocent conversation about one of the action films or something? Okay, technically that film is action, but not the James Bond kind of action… Kind of.
“It was… alright I guess?” Taehyung replies uncertainly, figuring that he’s going to have to force himself to be a bit more open about himself if he wants this crush to go anywhere, or at the very least get answers to the questions that run in his mind.
“Look, I’ll be perfectly honest here with you Seokjin, I don’t exactly… Let’s just say it’s not something I can engage with…” It’s very indirect and ambiguous but Taehyung hopes that’s enough to put across to Seokjin his orientation.
Of course, Seokjin is quite an intelligent man, Taehyung has gathered, and he seems to pick up the meaning, indicated by his tone “Oh, right, I see…” and what he says next all confuses, intrigues and scares Taehyung “I get you there, man, completely… She isn’t quite everyone’s type, is she?”
‘What does that mean?!? Is he like me… he said he gets me? What does he mean by ‘not quite everyone’s type’? Not everyone’s type by personality, appearance or gender? This is mental…’
“Um, no…”
“I’ll admit, I can relate to the guy in a roundabout kind of way, but… Just not with her… Simply put, you can’t really beat a dick, can you?”
‘Wow. Fuck. Fuck. This is escalating SO fast! Why is he being like this? Has he clocked on that I fancy him more than a big juicy steak being offered to a starving dog?... Omo Tae! Quit it with those thoughts!... He’s playing me, isn’t he? He’s fucking playing me…’
“Um, no, I guess not” Taehyung utters with a stiff smile that could easily be translated as an awkward smile of admittance rather than nervousness.
This shouldn’t be a problem at all, Taehyung figures. They’ve spoken about everything and anything lately and have become quite comfortable around each other… Yet this is real. This is Taehyung’s crush having a discussion based on sex; this makes Taehyung feel all sorts of things.
“Sorry, that was a little weird” Seokjin apologises. “I just… I guess I feel comfortable around you, that’s all… I don’t really talk to many people about…”
“Your sexuality?”
“Yeah.”
“Neither do I really…” Taehyung confesses. “‘Wasn’t even planning to come out at school, you know, until I kind of made things really obvious with this one guy around…”
“Oh dude! That’s like literally how I knew what I was, you know. Like one day, you’re thinking about what x times y could mean whilst trying to ignore your acknowledgement of a super hot classmate in your algebra lesson… and then you realise that x times y is basically xy…”
An awkward silence takes its place in the flow of conversation for a second as Taehyung fails to recognise the reference.
“Like the chromosome…?... Sorry, I’m just blabbering shit now…”
“No need to apologise, I, uh… it’s actually kind of a relief for me” Taehyung manages to admit.
“A relief? How so?”
This is it. The moment in which Taehyung is about to either make a complete fool of himself, or say the sentence that could be the start of something cool.
“I guess I’ve been wondering…” is all Taehyung musters before leaving another silence in the air.
Taehyung’s brain comes to a stand still. His fear of rejection is proving to be a barrier, stopping him from proceeding any further. He urges himself to continue, having already gotten nearer to confessing to Seokjin than he has with any other guy before. It would be a shame to stop when he’s come this far.
“So have I, actually…” Seokjin pipes up. “This… this is kinda nice, and… I’m gonna come clean here; I may have been picking up extra shifts this week…”
“Really?” Taehyung enquires, now feeling much more at ease that he doesn’t have to worry himself with what to say next. “Well, in that case, I have a confession to make also…”
“How many of the things that you’ve purchased here over the past few weeks are things you actually wanted?”
Taehyung chuckles, unashamed now to be called out on his frequent visits “I mean, there was the headphones…” he pauses. “Ah, that’s it” he concludes, hands in pockets, looking down at the floor, unsure where to look.
“Are you free after my shift?” Seokjin asks, causing Taehyung to lift his head back up. “I’d like to talk more outside of this same old place.”
“Of course” Taehyung grins.
“I’m really glad you like music, Taehyung.”
“I’m really glad I like music too, Seokjin.”
“Wait outside for me, yeah?” the elder winks, wandering away down the aisle and toward the till where he has noticed a customer ready to pay.
There aren’t many places to go at 6.30 on a Friday evening, and when you’ve only known one another for just under a fortnight, suggesting going back to one of the other’s house would seem a bit off… So here they sit, in front of some garage door at a parking lot, looking onto the city traffic.
“It’s strangely therapeutic, huh?” Seokjin asks, admiring the aesthetic of the lights with the dull evening sky.
“Yeah, I guess it kind of is; it’s quiet and away from people, yet you wouldn’t go crazy from the loneliness because people are getting on with their lives right over there.”
“So, sorry if this is weird and completely random, but it’s just that I’m eager about finally being able to talk to someone who can relate… How was it telling your parents about…?”
“About me being gay? I kind of didn’t tell them really, I just brought a boy home one day and formally introduced him as one would with a girlfriend and they kind of just gathered from there... How was it for you?”
“Probably the other end of the reaction spectrum!” Seokjin laughs with embarrassment.
“It wasn’t that bad was it?”
“I mean, it’s one of those things that a funny to look back on, but dreadfully humiliating at the time…”
“Seokjinnie, stop stalling and tell me!” Taehyung demands, playfully tapping Seokjin’s shoulder.
“Oh!” Seokjin gasps positively. “Is that a nickname for me?”
“Hmm… maybe” Taehyung leans forward with a grin. “Do you like it?”
“Hmm… maybe” Seokjin repeats back, also leaning in forward quite close so that the two boys’ noses almost touch
“Well you won’t be hearing it anymore if you don’t tell me” Taehyung backs away with a laugh, leaning backwards to rest his head against the garage door.
“So I kind of underestimated how intrusive my family can be…”
“Oh no, they found everything, didn’t they?” Taehyung asks with much empathy in his tone, tilting his head back upright, figuring that he would like to admire Seokjin’s facial features as he explains his story.
“Right down to these weird beads that I never even ended up using!”
“Oh right? I actually kind of like those ones…” Taehyung admits, then wondering why the heck those words just left his mouth...
“Well, you see, I prefer to stick to the front…” Seokjin openly states. “Stop me talking at any time if you want by the way, I understand this isn’t exactly what could be viewed as appropriate conversation material…”
“No, no, carry on. I just like talking to you” Taehyung beams.
“I feel awkward now because I stopped the flow of talking about the subject by directly mentioning it…”
“Somehow, I’ll try and continue for you then…” Taehyung manages to assert, rather surprised, yet pleased, at how he’s managing to come out of his shell more around a cute guy. “So by sticking to the front, is that just out of laziness, or…?”
“Uh, no, actually… I’d say far from it, in fact” Seokjin interrupts. “I… I often use my imagination to like make things feel more… real… and since I know my own preferences, it just sometimes started to seem kind of weird and not as great when I would… put something inside…”
Suddenly Taehyung feels feverish as different conclusions conjure in his head, all of a similar nature. Unsure of what he would have had Seokjin down as, if he had given it some prior thought, Taehyung doesn’t know what to do with this information and its potential meaning…
“I suppose although in reality, I’m a bit of a switch, in my fantasies… I’m mostly the dominant one; it gives me such a sense of excitement, you know, to be essentially in control of someone else’s pleasure when I…”
Taehyung interrupts Seokjin by urgently leaning in forward and presses his lips against the elder’s. He can’t take it anymore; these feelings for Seokjin were overwhelming before today as it was without all this talk about Seokjin’s sexual preferences… it’s such a turn on and too much for Taehyung that it has come to this; having to stop Seokjin in his tracks before his words have too much of an effect on him… Although in this moment, Taehyung is unsure as to whether he’s really made matters that much simpler for himself at all…
Though the kiss is forced and very in the moment, it also manages to have a tender side to it with the new and compelling feeling of Seokjin’s supple, smaller pout against Taehyung’s wider, yet still full, lips that might still be a little dry from the lack of focus he has had on himself. Taehyung’s large hand cups Seokjin’s smooth cheek which eventually releases itself of tension upon registering the intense moment.
Seokjin allows sufficient time to appreciate the kiss before backing away to speak “See, there was a reason I pointed out that DVD earlier, you know…” he begins, running his index finger along Taehyung’s chest, pausing at a button. “I can be terrible for acting in this way, I know…”
“You are indeed terrible Seokjinnie…” Taehyung agrees, running his thumb gently along Seokjin’s cheek bone. “You’re trying to get me worked up on purpose, aren’t you?... You’re not even going to be surprised when I tell you…”
“...That all this talk about sex has affected you more than it should have?”
“Uh-huh” Taehyung instantly admits without any sense of dignity or patience, feeling humid now even though the evening air is rather breezy.
Seokjin leans back in so that his forehead presses against Taehyung’s and he closes his eyes. He can hear Taehyung’s shaky breath that he receives as nervousness, causing Seokjin to open his eyes to take in the appearance of the boy in front of him.
As Taehyung runs his tongue around his lips to give them moisture, languidly blinking a couple of times, Seokjin just has to draw Taehyung back in for another kiss by hooking his finger into Taehyung’s shirt to pull him in. This time, there is much more fire and intensity, so as Seokjin crashes his lips against Taehyung’s, the latter returns the sensation, turning the kiss into a passionate one.
A passionate kiss turns into a passionate make out as Seokjin increases the intensity by taking in the taste of Taehyung with a loose tongue, and in turn, Taehyung explores all that is Seokjin, tracing his hands along Seokjin’s neck, down to his shoulders, then his upper arms, lingering with a firm grip for a while before travelling his hands further down to lace his fingers between Seokjin’s.
Some more gentle kisses are exchanged between the two before Taehyung manages to shift his weight to lean and rise over Seokjin, guiding him back to rest his back against the cool brick wall that borders the garage door. Taehyung positions his knees on either side of Seokjin’s thighs, allowing more intimate contact… Possibly more intimate than the younger bargained for as his slowly hardening member presses up against Seokjin’s stomach, eliciting a muted hiss from the tip of his tongue and through gritted teeth.
“Oh man, this sucks…” Taehyung states with a nervous laugh, throwing his head back in frustration.
“I know right…?... It seems my plan has backfired on me if I’m honest with you…” Seokjin desperately replies with a low tone, breath shaky.
No more words are spoken as they continue to plant kisses on each other’s lips, taking shallow breaths between each. It’s getting increasingly difficult for either to contain themselves as each is getting more and more aroused with each second that drags by.
Seokjin can feel Taehyung’s perfect lips getting softer and his breath hitching more with each touch the elder gives him, from a caress of the face, to a needy grip of the hair at the nape of his neck, and especially as Seokjin runs his fingers down Taehyung’s back. It becomes a constant fight between Seokjin and his urge to completely have his way with Taehyung here and now… after all, they’re in a public place…
“Definitely backfiring” Seokjin repeats the second Taehyung presses his weight against Seokjin’s now sensitive crotch.
“Maybe we could set up camp here...I’ve built something of a tent in my trousers…” Taehyung jests, attempting to relieve the two of their hunger for each other by adding some humour to the atmosphere.
“Now if only we did have an actual tent though… That would solve our little problem…”
“I know I’m probably getting myself in way too deep here but…” Taehyung begins, wrapping his arms around Seokjin’s neck. “Hypothetically, what would you do if it was just us two in a tent?...” he enquires, raising his eyebrows.
“Well that all depends…”
“On what?”
“On what you like…”
“I would like to hear more about ‘in control’ Seokjin… It sounds… hmm…” he hums, tilting his head playfully “...hot.”
“Well then…” Seokjin rasps, tilting his head to the opposite side to allow his breath to be felt upon Taehyung’s lips which breaths of anticipation escape past. “First, I’d tease you relentlessly, pretending to be unknowing of how I’m making you feel… I like to tease, you see; I like to see what effect I can have on someone before I’ve even started… I have to have that sense of excelling in making someone want me for me before I get too eager to take all my clothes off…”
“How would you tease me?” the younger asks, planting a single kiss against the elder’s lips.
“Hmm…” Seokjin ponders. “Well, I must reach out to all your senses, so a combination of things… Starting with more subtle things such as unnecessarily licking my lips for you, and maybe other poses and gestures that are seemingly innocent on the surface…” he informs as he indeed parallels his words by moistening his lips.
“...So that’s why you’d always gaze into the air seductively when you would claim to be thinking about something…” Taehyung responds.
“What do you mean ‘claim to be thinking’?” Seokjin questions. “I could hardly have been thinking about nothing could I? That’s imposs…”
“Alright, you know what I meant…” the younger rectifies. “That you probably weren’t thinking about the things you said you were like restocking, and…”
“I guess you got me there…”
“I bet you were thinking about making your face look as… as luscious as possible…”
“Then I’d kick it up a notch” Seokjin interrupts. “ I’d react to things with moans, an ‘accidental’ brush against your skin, and again, it’d seem innocent and unintentional… But I always know exactly what I’m doing…” he growls
“Damn right you would…” murmurs Taehyung.
“How easily would you give in Tae?...” Seokjin asks with a grunt, dropping his head back against the wall. “Would you be patient and resilient…” he begins to ask, lifting his head back up to make direct eye contact, “or would you falter at the first gesture?...”
“You have the looks of a model and the aura of a stud… Of course I would give in…” Taehyung declares, confidently maintaining eye contact.
“Are you weak for me Taehyungie?”
“I really am… Especially now you’re talking like this… Damn, I wish we could be somewhere else!” Taehyung sobs subtly.
“Me too… You’d make such beautiful noises, I know you would… I just wonder how much I could change that killer deep voice of yours…”
Seokjin was intending to carry on with the talk, but stops as Taehyung stumbles to his feet and holds a hand out, offering to help Seokjin stand. Instead of reaching a hand back out, Seokjin just looks up at Taehyung with a confused expression.
“We need to move away from here” Taehyung states, eyes glancing left and right wearily.
“Where to?” Seokjin enquires, finally taking a hold of Taehyung’s hand and bringing himself up on his feet.
“We’ll figure something out” Taehyung replies, beginning to move one foot in front of the other, causing Seokjin to follow, still holding on to the younger’s hot sweaty palm.
The boys travel with urgency and desperation, almost brisk walking and staggering on the tips of their toes across the car park.
Leading out onto a main street through they walk down there quite innocently, now properly holding hands, fingers intertwined, Seokjin making sure to be on the outer side nearer to the road, almost as if he is protecting the younger. The city lights that have a recent glow to them seem hazy under the heavy eyes of the two infatuated boys that seek privacy to fulfil each other’s desires.
“It’s kind of ridiculous how few places one can actually get away from the world in peace, huh?; considering that everyone out here is minding there own business, not even caring for what goes on in the distance” states Taehyung, still scanning the streets for even a hint to the answer he seeks.
“I guess so… I suppose really it’s just because the chance of being caught is still there nonetheless, causing us to be more wary” answers Seokjin. “Um, you can tell me if I’m being way too forward here, but… We’re actually not far from where I live…”
Taehyung flashes Seokjin an inviting smile “Man, why didn’t you say that earlier?”
“As I told you Tae…” Seokjin grins, tightening the grip on Taehyung’s hand and now swaying the control of the path they lead to his instruction, “I’m a bit of a tease…”
Seokjin leads as the boys rush through the gateway and the elder searches the pocket of his hoodie for the house key. The lock rattles as Seokjin’s shaky hand attempts to unlock the door
“Nice place you’ve got!...” Taehyung exclaims.
Seokjin hushes the younger boy: “There’s one thing I should have mentioned before; there’s like a 50-50 chance that my housemate will be in….” he explains, cut off by a voice unknown to Taehyung.
“Hey Seokjin, man! What time do you…” A face appears to be paired with the voice and the housemate registers the arrival of a guest and stops in his tracks.
The housemate appears to be just as enthusiastic about music as Taehyung himself is, the latter notes, observing the headphones that rest around the boy’s neck.
“Ah, Yoongi, this is Taehyung…” Hesitantly, Seokjin tries to introduce his guest to his house mate “He’s my… friend…”
“Alright…” Yoongi unsurely voices. “Nice to meet you Taehyung. Don’t mean to be rude but I.... was... actually... about to go to bed… yeah, so…”
“Perfect!” Seokjin is quick to say out loud. “Uh… I mean, cool, yeah” he corrects to which Yoongi lets out a chuckle.
“You kids have fun” Yoongi tells the two, obviously having caught on to the nature of Seokjin and Taehyung’s relationship. He exits swiftly, placing his headphones over his ears.
Seokjin awkwardly looks down to the floor whilst Yoongi exits to his room as Taehyung lifts Seokjin’s chin with his index finger and the younger raises his eyebrows suggestively once eye contact is made.
“I don’t know why you’re raising your ‘brows at me like that Taehyungie… We’re gonna have to be hella quiet; are you sure you can handle that?”
“Looks like I’m going to have to, doesn’t it?” the younger smiles back, taking a hold of Seokjin’s hand.
Part 2 coming soon [hopefully]
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thedeadflag · 7 years
Text
Here’s more of the Oh No There Is Only One Bed What Do clanya AU
(Part 1)(Part 2)(Part 3)(Part 4)
Part 5 below
Content Warning: transmisogyny, transmisogynistic slurs, transphobia
(Time skip to end of summer break)
"I don't get why you're going nuts about this party. It's a party, not rocket science. You invite people and they show up. If there's booze, even better. That's it." Raven chimed in from her spot perched at the end of Clarke's bed. "It's not a big deal. It'll be just fine without you micromanaging everything."
Clarke let out a huff and sat back on her heels, temporarily deciding to stop digging through her closet. "You graduated last year. It's not a big deal for you, but this is the last time I'll see a lot of these people for...well, maybe years from now. And I want it to be good for the ones I will be seeing again soon, too."
"Like the swimmer girl." Raven noted, perhaps a little pointedly, enough for Clarke to make the executive decision to keep her focus elsewhere for the moment.
"Who?" She asked, Raven's laughter signaling her attempt at obscuring the truth wasn't well played.
"The swimmer girl you've spent most mornings with during the break. Lanky, bottle blonde, kinda thorny personality?" Raven asked, tapping a finger against her chin. Apparently her friend had noticed Anya's comings and goings from her home across the street. "I think her name was Aria? Aaliyah?"
It was clear that Raven had something she wanted to say, so Clarke got up and took a seat on her bed up against the headboard, leading Raven to do the same. "Her name's Anya. And...yeah, she's thorny, but all roses are. You just need to know how to hold them."
Clarke loved when people ran their hands through her hair, so when she felt Raven's combing through, fingertips gently grazing against her scalp, she couldn't help but lean into the touch.
"Clarke...that is one of the gayest things I've ever heard someone say about another woman, and I pretty much live on Tumblr." Raven whispered, clearly barely containing her laughter. It was nearly enough to get her to shuffle away, not quite ready to be teased over her growing adoration for Anya, but the feel of Raven's forehead pressing against her temple stilled her. "Not a bad thing. You always did say you were bi, I just...never saw you take to another girl before. It's adorable. So is that what you two do every morning? Hold each other?"
"I wish. No, we usually just swim for an hour and a half or so, Anya likes a good workout in the morning. For a while, that was it...she'd come over, we'd exercise, and she'd leave. Now I've managed to get her sticking around for a half hour or an hour to just talk or sunbathe." Clarke explained, waiting through a few seconds of silence before turning her head, wondering what was on Raven's mind.
Apparently, perplexed amusement was the daily special, given Raven was looking at her like she had two heads. "Clarke, you're good at flirting. Just get all touchy-feely and she'll melt. Most girls would."
Clarke shook her head and sunk back against her pillows. "I can't." She answered, shooting Raven a pointed glare when her friend scoffed. "I'm serious. I hurt her back in high school. She doesn't fully trust me yet, and she's set boundaries on how I can touch her, so I'm respecting that and just...trying to earn her friendship."
"So what, this morning ritual is some sort of punishment for what you did? Which I have a hard time believing you hurt her, bee-tee-dubs." Raven shot back, brow furrowing, dark eyes meeting her gaze in clear concern.
"Not punishment. She doesn't really seem to care about that. She just wants me to be better so she can feel safe around me." She clarified, taking a deep breath when Raven still stared at her in befuddlement. "I got a close friend of hers expelled in grade nine based on hearsay from guys that were bullying them.  I stacked the GSA with her bullies, people I thought were good and decent people but clearly weren't, so she couldn't go there for support when she needed it."
Raven let out a long exhale and nodded. "Okay, that sounds sort of bad, but that was, like, grade nine and ten."
"I helped arrange assemblies that had skits explicitly insulting and harassing her, ones that I laughed at. You remember the skit in your final year where Finn came out in a dress? That was after Finn and Bell paid Ontari to date her long enough to steal some of her clothes for the assembly and grab some nudes to spread around the school. Among some other things, so yeah, the way she is with me...it's warranted. Really fucking warranted." Clarke clarified, sticking to her guns. As time had passed, she'd remembered more and more about things that had happened that year and early senior year.  If anything, Anya had undersold her difficulties.
Raven's hand dropped from her head and cupped her shoulder, pulling her in for a hug. "Well...shit. Okay, then, what's the plan of action?" Raven asked, and Clarke really couldn't find an answer outside of sticking with what she'd been doing, so maybe she shrugged. Slow and steady wins the race. It made sense. "Okay, so you can't just freak out about the party tonight and not have a plan to dazzle this girl. Ideally, what'd go down between you two tonight?"
A flurry of fantasies rushed through her mind, but she forced herself to be more practical and appropriate, knowing Anya deserved at least that much. "I...I guess I just want to be able to hold her."
"Okay, you're more far gone than I expected. Is that what I have to look forward to?" Raven asked absently, eyes growing a little wide as Clarke leaned back, wondering if Raven was implying what she thought she was. "Okay, so I...might have met a girl at MIT. She might be coming tonight, since I figure it's time to officially move on from Finn."
Clarke nodded profusely, thrilled to know Raven was finally taking that step. Raven had found out about his affair the final day of the con, and after a brief frosty period of behaviour towards her, she and Raven had grown a lot closer over the summer. "That's great! I...so are you bi?"
"I think so, yeah. I mean, I had some hints here and there over the years, but this one...this one kind of clued me in. And I'm just...floundering a little, because she's an aquatic engineer, and smart, and witty, and beautiful, and..." Clarke's smile grew as Raven rambled, earning her a small shove as Raven's cheeks got a tiny bit redder. "I just like her. And I want to impress her tonight, so I was hoping you had a plan, so I could copy it."
It was a laughable idea, honestly, but the idea of a game plan had a certain appeal to it. If anything, Anya deserved that sort of careful consideration. The last she wanted was to end up inadvertently hurting Anya because she winged the party and was careless.
"Well, a plan does seem like it'd be a good idea, I guess. So...does she know you like her?" Clarke asked, earning a quick shake of the head, Raven's wide-eyed fear leaving her unsure whether to laugh or cry that their situations were so similar. "Same here."
"What?! How does that girl not know you're into her?! Clarke!" Raven thwapped her in the head with a surprise pillow attack that only served to mess up her hair a little more than it already was. "Seriously, you invite her over every morning."
"Six mornings a week, but still. And I call her pet names. And I've bought her gifts. And I keep telling her I'd love to spend more time together. And I've done so much research and traveled to a few workshops and speaking events, too, to try and make sure I'll be safer for her and other trans people to be around." Clarke relayed, only contorting Raven's features even more. "I mean, I don't think she's ever dated anyone, so maybe she just doesn't pick up the cues that I'm interested in something else on top of her friendship? I mean, she might have, and is just ignoring me, but I think I'd notice that."
Raven suddenly jolted up, moving to sit in front of her. "That's it! Luna hates when people beat around the bush or lie to her. And your girl is clueless. Neither seem the type to hold anything over anyone's head unless they're, like, super familiar, right?"
"Yeah, so?" She asked, narrowly dodging another pillow attack.
"So we be aggressively honest."
Clarke's heart skipped a beat at the immediate, visceral fear of rejection, Anya's past words echoing in her head as she imagined coming clean to her at the party, as she imagined confessing her feelings. This was a girl who felt disgusted and scared enough to refuse sharing a room with her barely two months ago.
How the hell could she even make an attempt?
"I can't. I...you didn't hear how disgusted she was of me. How much pain I caused her, I can't just..." Clarke started, throat feeling much narrower as she fought for enough breath to speak. "I just can't."
The third time was the charm, the pillow making solid contact against the front of her face.
"Come on, what day of the con was that? Because I distinctly remember Finn ranting about Anya keeping him from talking to you." Raven asserted, apparently not keen on just letting things be.
"She told me that Saturday morning. And yeah, she helped me in the market later that day, but she's been up front saying she doesn't have to like someone to not want them hurt. Even before showing me how she felt about me, she comforted me over what Finn did to us. She's just that kind of person." Clarke argued, but if anything Raven looked even more determined.
Her friend held up the pillow again, Clarke getting her arms up in time to dissuade her, apparently. "She sounds friggin' perfect for you. Besides, she's hung out with you past your workouts, alone, so by her own standards, she finds you worth her time and trusts you to a decent extent. She wouldn't spend time with you if she didn't enjoy it, if it still hurt her. Pretty big change from someone who didn't feel safe to share a room with you."
Clarke lowered her hands to gauge Raven's sincerity and ate another pillow for her naiveté. "Damn it, Raven, just...do you think I have a shot?"
"From the sound of it, you've put in some work. You've earned some trust. Enough to come clean about how you feel? Yeah, I'd say so. Enough for her to give you a shot? She'd be an idiot not to see how real this is for you." Raven suggested. "Put the ball in her court. Tell her how you feel. Show her how you feel in whatever ways you can. Let her decide if she's into you or not, don't write her off before you give her that chance."
Clarke let out a long exhale, the idea of actively wooing Anya already mentally exhausting. Still, she was worth it. She absolutely was. "Aggressively honest, huh?" She asked, drawing an eager nod from her friend. With a roll of her eyes, she flopped onto her side. "Then I guess that's the plan. Here's hoping we have luck on our side."
As far as Clarke was concerned, they'd need it.
Anya liked Saturdays. Even during summer breaks, it was the one day of the week where she'd let herself relax and have a lazy day. It was always good to have a day to recuperate, she'd learned, and she knew she'd certainly need them going forward over the next few years in New York.
There was nothing quite like laying on her bed in comfy clothes, her open windows welcoming the gentle summer breeze as she worked away at her reading list.
Of course, she'd never been the luckiest individual, so when a knock sounded at her door, she could only imagine that her relaxing routine would be delayed for a few minutes, likely her mother wanting her to accomplish some additional chores, or to help with the garden. "Come in."
A not insignificant amount of surprise coursed through her body as Lexa slipped into her room, looking beautiful as always, but for some reason was at her home rather than Clarke's to help prep for the party.
Anya bookmarked her novel and set it aside. "Lexa, I thought you'd be helping Clarke get her house ready before heading to the airport to pick up Costia."
"Clarke has adequate help already, she'll be fine. I see you're all ready to go." Lexa noted, cocking a scrutinizing eyebrow at her.
Between Lexa's presence and that strange look, Anya had a bad feeling. "You're not expecting me to attend the party, are you?"
Lexa moved to the end of the bed, arms crossing her chest, hips cocked. Apparently, she absolutely did.
Crap.
"At least you've showered already, so we can skip that. What are you going to wear?" Lexa asked, not even leaving Anya's participation in the party up in the air.
"What, is this not appropriate? Come on, Lexa. Why would I go to this thing?" She countered quickly, regretting her words a little as Lexa leveled a hard stare at her.
"Costia's coming back tonight. You can catch up with her, and spend time with us before we head to D.C. on Monday and you head to New York." Lexa argued, and alright, perhaps that was a reasonable argument. Costia would be spending much of tomorrow packing and spending time with her parents, and her and Lexa would be leaving bright and early on Monday. It really was her last good shot at hanging out with her for a while, and she did miss Cos. "And on top of that, you have today as a test run for New York."
Anya's head tilted to the side, confused at that last addition. "What do you mean?"
"You've always had to have your shield up around here. You've been a little thorny by design, to keep yourself safe, because there are a lot of shitty people around here who haven't accepted you. But in New York, you'll be one more person in the crowd. You won't have to have your walls up so high, you won't have to put up a front. You'll have a pretty fresh start over there, and tonight could get you ready for that." Lexa clarified, using a lot of Anya's past venting sessions in the process, only further pulling her towards the idea of attending the party, even if the prospect was still intimidating. It'd been a long time since she let her softer side out to play, not since she'd been viciously bullied in grade nine to the point of needing to look tougher to protect herself, even if that came with its own drawbacks in more verbal harassment.
"Not a completely fresh start. Clarke would be there." Anya added, apparently compelling Lexa to crawl up onto the bed and curl up beside her. "You realize you can't hug me into submission."
Lexa just laughed, nose tickling her neck. "Of course I can't. And yes, Clarke will be there. You can't pretend that she's not your friend now, Anya. Even if you're not as close with her as, say, Costia, you still like her."
Anya's couldn't refute her words, knowing the other blonde had indeed grown on her like a fungus to the point where she looked forward to seeing her. Clarke had worked hard to become someone she could feel safe around, and she both respected and kind of adored her for that daily dedication and self-critique. Still, Lexa didn't need to know that, so she just raised an eyebrow, not that Lexa could see. "Your point?"
"My point is that you can show her the rest of you tonight. You can let her in, let her know you, and give her a shot at being the friend she's trying to be for you." Lexa stated, slinging her arms around Anya's waist. "Besides, you'd be doing me a favour. I don't want either of you two to feel alone out there. If you two had each other to lean on, I'd be a lot less stressed about being away from you."
Anya felt her heart drop into her stomach, Lexa's words hitting their target dead on. "Bring out the big guns, why don't you?" She let out with a sigh, holding her cousin closer. "I don't want you to worry about me, or at least no more than usual. I'll go."
"Well, then, we should get you ready. Go pick out something to wear." Lexa prodded her stomach until she sat up and rolled off the bed, reluctantly making her way to the closet.
Her hand moved to grab her trademark leather pants but that was the predictable choice. That was what her former classmates knew well, her harder, thornier side she used to keep the hordes at bay, at least physically. They'd never let her be anything else before, not without seeing it as a vulnerability to attack.
But she was leaving on Monday. They had no hold on her anymore.
Anya shook her head and pushed enough hangers aside to bring the four in garment bags to the forefront. By memory, she grabbed the last one and handed it behind her, knowing Lexa would be waiting, and then passed off a pair of red heels. Once her cousin took possession of both, she went up on her tip-toes and grabbed the large black box from her top shelf, and then the two slightly smaller white boxes to its right. If she was going to show off another side of herself, then she was going to go all out. Taking half-measures would simply be a waste.
Besides, maybe Clarke would think she'd look nice.
"You're lucky I haven't eaten since breakfast, or I might not fit in it." Anya noted as she set the boxes down on her bed. She didn't waste time opening the black box and pulling her corset free; she'd always hated lacing herself up, but with Lexa around, that wouldn't be such a problem. "Want to help me into this?" She asked, pulling her top off and slipping out of her shorts.
"I have no idea where you're going with this, but consider me intrigued." Lexa stated, setting the garment bag down on the bed and moving behind her as Anya got the corset positioned.
It took a little longer than she'd have liked, and a little more effort from Lexa than expected, but she eventually found herself snugly laced into the corset at the right measurements.
"Load me up? I won't take long to change." She asked, arms out.
Lexa still looked a little stunned at her corset, but quickly gathered the boxes and garment bag and laid them onto Anya's arms, a twinkle of excitement flashing in her eyes. And maybe it was a little exciting, wearing what she would out in public for the first time instead of lounging around her home in the outfit as she had in the past.
She'd never really had the opportunity to wear something like that without inviting scrutiny, and the last thing she wanted in the past was for Lexa to catch on and push and prod her to wear what she liked, screwing the consequences. That would have meant more work and more stress for Lexa, and that just hadn't been an option in Anya's mind.
But maybe she could do this now.
Anya made her way into the ensuite and shut the door behind her, quickly setting the items up and carefully putting them on in the right order. It was a matter of precision, but she knew her way around each like an old friend, and it wasn't long until she was slipping into her pumps and checking herself in the mirror to ensure nothing was out of place. She'd have to do her hair, and work some magic with her makeup, but she looked good.
Feeling a rush of confidence, she opened the door and stepped out into her bedroom. The sound drew Lexa's attention, her cousin sitting at the side of her bed, green eyes growing wide as she looked her over. For a brief moment, there was a jolt of panic, that maybe Lexa would think she looked silly, or absurd, but the tiny upward twitch at her cousin's lips threw those fears into her mental trash compactor.
Lexa lifted a hand, silently twirling a finger. Anya complied and did a slow spin, enough time for Lexa's smile to have bloomed into a wide grin. "You look amazing, Anya!"
"Really?" She asked, needing that last little bit of validation, and thankfully, Lexa was thrilled to offer it with a gleeful nod.
"I can do your hair, but Costia would kill me if I did your face, too. She's gonna flip when she sees you, I guarantee it. Would you be okay taking a quick pit stop after the airport?" The idea of going out to the airport dressed as she was, well, it was intimidating. It was a little scary. But she'd have Lexa, and she'd have Costia, and she'd have Costia's parents.
Anya nodded. That would have to be enough.
Clarke stared off at her back yard, pleased with the fruits of her efforts. Her mom had insisted that no damage come to the interior while she was away setting up her apartment in the city with her Uncle Jacapo, so she'd made the executive decision to close off the house and host the party in the back yard. After all, they didn't have neighbours for at least a half mile in any given direction from the edges of their property, so it seemed like a safe enough bet. The fire pit was re-organized to host more people, the pool and hot tub were set up, the barbecue area was stocked with food and a makeshift bar, the sound system was set up with speakers positioned around the yard, and she'd scattered all sorts of seating so there'd always be somewhere nearby to sit.
It was well worth the effort for a nice send-off.
"Hey, so when are we starting up with the burgs?" Octavia asked, suddenly and sneakily appearing at her side. "Monty, Miller, and Harper worked up a bit of a sweat carrying the speakers around. Are they good to grab a quick shower?"
Clarke nodded, reaching into her bag for one of her spare key rings she'd made and set aside for the party to control access to the house. "They should be fast, though. People will start arriving soon, it's almost eight. We'll start getting food ready around then."
"Got it, I'll make sure Monty and Miller shower separately." Octavia noted, grabbing the spare and jogging off towards the others.
Clarke rolled her eyes, but knew it'd probably be a necessary precaution, given how the two often disappeared for hours on end when given the opportunity.
She made her way across the yard to the bar, scoping our Raven practicing some bartender tricks. Because of course that's what she managed to pick up and learn in her year at MIT.
"So, my fine-feathered friend, is everything shaping up alright?" She took a seat on one of the bar stools they'd hauled up from the basement, basking in Raven's excitement.
"Luna's on her way, she should be here by nine, nine-thirty at the latest if traffic's bad. Our alcohol is set up and ready for serving. We've got a good selection of mixers and ingredients, so there's room for a little creativity. When people start arriving, if they have anything, it gets brought here. I work the first shift until eleven, and that Ryder guy takes over then." Raven rambled, sounding a little giddy about serving drinks.
"You sure you don't mind tending bar for a while?" She asked, drawing an immediate scoff from her friend.
"Please, it's fun. Besides, Lincoln's giving me first dibs on the food, and I'm all about that. And whenever Luna and I hung out, it was usually at the bar I worked at, so it'll be a little familiar, I guess? I'll be fine, Clarkey." Raven reassured her, pouring herself a drink of something dark and foamy. "Don't worry, babe, just a root beer. No alky for me till I'm off duty, scout's honour."
Clarke narrowed her eyes at Raven. "You were never a girl scout."
"Psh, details." Raven laughed taking a sip from her glass just as the phone in Clarke's bag started to ring.
Curious, she fished it out, a smile sprouting on her lips at the contact ID. She immediately answered. "Costia! How was the flight in?"
"Smooth sailing as usual, can't complain. That doesn't matter though, I only have a few minutes before I have to get back." Costia answered, her last few words coming out hastily, sending Clarke's heart twisting with worry. "Not gonna beat around the bush. Do you still have feelings for Anya?"
The question had Clarke ambling off the bar stool and heading indoors, unsure if she was going to be delivered good or bad news. "Yeah. More than ever."
"Then unless you're dressed in your best stuff, you need to go and change, because Clarke. She looks...Clarke, I've never seen her like this. It's just she can't be the only one glammed up or she'll feel out of place, even with me and Lexa sort of following suit." Costia relayed, the urgency in her voice compelling Clarke to rush upstairs and into her walk-in closet.
Because while Anya was breathtaking in casual clothes, or wearing a sports bra and exercise shorts, and she couldn't imagine Anya being prettier than she always was, Costia sounded serious. And if it'd help Anya feel more welcome, it was no skin off her teeth to change into something a little fancier. Lord knew she usually needed an excuse to wear some of her stuff anyways, so she'd welcome the opportunity.
"Got it. I'm changing now." She spoke, one hand holding the phone to her ear while the other skimmed through her fancier items, looking for something that would work. "Need me to colour coordinate?"
"Maybe something white or red? Anyways, it doesn't matter, just...I've never seen her like this in public. Ever. This is different and new for her, and she needs you to have her back, because she trusts you to have it. She needs everyone to know you have her back. And...Clarke?" Costia asked, voice trailing off.
"Yeah?"
"If you were ever planning on letting her know how you feel...this is your shot. If there was ever a time to make your move, it's tonight. I gotta get back, we're leaving for your place now, but just...good luck. Don't let us down." Costia added, ending the call quickly and leaving Clarke wondering what had changed.
That morning, she'd hung out with Anya for an hour or so, not really talking about much of anything. It'd been nice, and the silences between them had been comfortable, but it wasn't like Anya had a heart to heart with her or something. Nothing to indicate that Anya would even go to the party, even if Clarke had hoped she would, let alone consider it special enough to dress up in something nice, whatever that meant.
Not that Anya didn't look nice, she always did, but Anya's version of 'nice' was usually a decent quality blouse, her leather pants or skinny jeans, and generally a leather jacket. And that would get Clarke's heart-rate up, for certain, but Costia's call left her unsure what to expect. Which, in turn, left her unsure what to wear.
Obviously, her tank top and jeans wouldn't cut it, but she needed to find something. Maybe if I'm trying to woo her...maybe I should show a little skin? She did glance at my legs a lot during the con weekend that Sunday, so...maybe my tailored black shorts? I could pair it with my white blazer to coordinate with Anya?
It seemed as good a plan as any, so she quickly grabbed each item up along with one of her nicest sets of lingerie, figuring if it inexplicably got to the point of Anya getting more than a solid peek, she wanted to look nice and impress. Not that she expected anything of the sort, but it was good to be prepared. And in case Anya's new 'nice' meant heels, she swapped her flats for a set of strappy heels, not wanting a situation where Anya was half a foot taller or anything. She liked being about the same height, it was a nice change of pace from the usual for her.
"Clarke, is that you? Lincoln was wondering...whoa!" Octavia exclaimed, stilling by her closet doorway. "Okay, wow, you, uh...wait a second. Clarke, you sly mo..."
"What was Lincoln wondering, Octavia?" She interrupted hastily, not wanting to get buried in a bunch of accusations of debauchery.
Unfortunately, Octavia was already hooked, whether Clarke liked it or not. "No, no. Are you fishing for some no strings action tonight? I mean I wouldn't blame you, with everyone going their separate ways and all."
Clarke just kept scanning through her accessories for something fitting. She eventually settled on a subtle necklace with a heart-shaped ruby pendant. There was a chance it could disappear into her cleavage, but it was the only good red necklace she had to match her outfit.
"Not everyone's going their separate ways, O." She hinted as she put the necklace on and secured the clasp. "New York's a fresh start, but...maybe I might see if a certain someone's up for a fresh start together."
"Another New Yorker? Hrm...Fox is still dating Harrison, so not her. Jasper and Maya are moving there together, so none of them. And definitely not Bell after the way you've like, cut him out this summer...he's not even gonna be here tonight." Octavia mused openly, following Clarke out of the closet. "Wait...Anya?"
Clarke nearly tripped over her own feet at O's astute guess, even if there weren't many others from their graduating class heading to New York.
"Like, Anya-Anya? My intense kickboxing tutor, Anya?" Octavia continued, grabbing Clarke's wrist and turning her around, clearly having cued in that her guess was on point. "Are you serious?"
Clarke took a hard swallow and stood up straight, knowing if Octavia had a problem, she couldn't let it fester. "She's my friend, and I'm really into her. If you have a problem with that..."
"Whoa, no, no. Not a problem." Octavia rushed out, hands up as she took a step back. "Definitely not a problem, it's the opposite of one. I sort of love her for the two years she helped train me, but she's a total dork, and we didn't have anything in common, so it never really went past that. But if you're aiming for her, you've got the green light from me, not that she'd need me protecting her."
Clarke nodded, not having known Anya had helped Octavia train during high school. O had talked to her about training, about her hard-ass teacher, but she didn't recall O mentioning any names. Still, it was good to know one more person had Anya's back.
"Thanks, it's good to know someone else is looking out for her." Clarke admitted, taking a step backward. "So...think she'll like?"
Octavia shrugged. "You look hot, lots of good earth cleavage going on. I don't know who wouldn't like how you look. But...yeah, I think she will."
Clarke breathed a sigh of relief, hoping Octavia was right and maybe Anya might like who and what she saw when she arrived. "I sure hope so." She noted, gesturing for O to follow her as she made her way back downstairs and into the back yard, loitering by the gate that led into the backyard, sincerely wishing there wasn't a high stone wall and a big wooden door blocking the way. However, she also didn't want to seem desperate and ridiculous, which keeping it open and constantly peeking out would do, so she just tried to play it cool, casually greeting everyone who strolled through.
She'd just let in Fox and her boyfriend when she heard Costia's signature laugh from the other side of the gate.
Clarke decided to play it casual, leaning up against a support nearby for the covered area containing the bar and barbecue, forcing her breath to steady as Costia strolled in wearing the same suit she'd worn to her post-graduation party, looking stunning as ever. Lexa followed in a black dress that ought to have been illegal for how high the slit at the side was, but she'd always been a daring girl.
She needed an extra second for her brain to parse through what she was seeing when the third girl followed through. She'd expected to see Anya's often messy waves and braids, so when a head of side-swept loose golden curls met her, punctuated with a rose in her hair, Clarke nearly looked past the girl in an attempt to spot Anya.
But then the girl laughed at some remark of Lexa's, and Clarke knew that sound anywhere. She hadn't noticed she'd taken a few steps closer until she vaguely heard Costia call out to her. Her focus was too intent on Anya as she turned to face her, and suddenly Costia's sentiments on the phone seemed like a severe understatement because Clarke lacked the words.
Dictionaries and thesauruses probably lacked the words, because Anya was smiling that endearingly infectious smile, looking like she'd stepped out of a romance novel in her white and red floral dress that did absurd things with her figure, those warm amber eyes beaming with confidence and curiosity. Anya was a vision, looking so happy and comfortable and utterly beautiful. There was too much to process, too much stimulation for her poor bisexual heart to handle as it struggled to keep up with the rapid, unrelenting pace Anya spurred it to.
She only realized how close she'd gotten when she straight up couldn't see Anya anymore for the tears in her eyes.
And of course Anya would focus on that. "Clarke? What's the matter? Did something happen?"
She felt one of Anya's gloved hands cup her cheek and that was apparently her breaking point, a whimper escaping her as she shook her head in a feeble attempt to convince the girl that everything was fine, because it really was even if she was out of breath. She was just super frazzled was all.
Clarke blinked away her tears, or at least tried to as they kept coming with every visual and tactile reminder of her crush.
Lord help her.
It'd been with a certain sense of trepidation that she'd walked down the pathway to Clarke's backyard. Lexa and Costia had been cracking jokes non-stop over the fifteen minute drive, and try as she might, she couldn't be annoyed at them for that, not when she'd laughed more in that time than probably the past week combined.
Still, the moment she'd crossed into the party area, her eyes had sought out her host, wondering if Clarke was waiting, if Clarke was busy, if Clarke was with someone.
It had only taken a few seconds to get an answer, though not without a dozen or two questions being added on as Clarke practically staggered over, cheeks flushed, a tear or two running down her cheeks, and lower lip quivering in a meager attempt to contain her emotions.
Her host's composure had cracked away the moment she lifted a hand to her face, so Anya just waited, her confidence from earlier draining with each passing second as more eyes turned towards them, as Clarke fought to compose herself.
Taking a page from a few weeks back, she dropped her hand and took both of Clarke's in her own, thumbs caressing the tops of her knuckles. "Breathe. Focus on calming yourself little by little, take your time, it's fine."
Clarke nodded sharply and made an attempt. Perhaps not the best, but as a few seconds passed, she could hear the girl's breathing get closer to stabilizing. "Ev...everything's wonderful." Clarke eventually blurted out in a tearful smile, those sapphire blue eyes averted downward. If anything, Clarke's words and mannerisms only further confused her.
Still, she nodded, gently hushing Clarke as she felt and saw her grow tense. "Then why are you crying?"
If Clarke hadn't been blushing much before, she certainly was now, cheeks blooming bright red. She waited, seconds ticking past before Clarke took a deep breath once, twice, and met her gaze with a strange sort of intensity.
"You're just...really beautiful." Clarke spoke, and given the nearby crowd and lack of music or discussion, Anya was rather certain that a good twenty or thirty people heard her. "You're so beautiful, princess, and I'm so overwhelmed, I'm sorry."
Clarke moved to step away, but Anya only tightened her grip of the girl's hands, head abuzz with a fresh flurry of questions, concerns, and feelings. She couldn't let Clarke rush off, not yet.
"Don't apologize. Just...do you mean that?" She cursed herself for how hesitant she sounded, knowing others could hear it in her voice, could use it against her.
Her lungs emptied at the way Clarke's eyes flashed with determination, how her host moved to touch her and held her hands an inch from her frame. "May I touch you?" Clarke asked, and Anya couldn't help but immediately nod. A sigh tore out from her throat as an arm wrapped around her waist, Clarke's other hand resting still against the back of her neck in that lovely spot she was so weak to. And yet, Clarke refused to make her more vulnerable than needed. "Anya, I kinda thought you were an angel when I saw you. And then you smiled my way and I just got...I just got so overwhelmed with emotion. You're always beautiful, but here? Now? There's no words."
Anya swallowed hard, her emotions climbing up her throat and straining at her chest as her heart thudded fiercely against her ribs. She'd never been spoken to like that, Clarke's fiery sincerity burning away any doubt of the girl's feelings for her, leaving Anya breathless in want and anticipation, thrust into a new unexplored existence.
Her body trembled at the desire in Clarke's eyes purely focused on her. And maybe Clarke didn't have the words, but maybe they just weren't necessary.  
Mustering every shred of composure and wit that she could, Anya fixed Clarke with a smile, adoring how the girl holding her practically melted. "I'd usually say something about flattery, but...perhaps I was wrong about that."
Clarke's face lit up like the fourth of July. "Can I get you a drink, Anya?"
She rolled her eyes at the invitation, even as her cheeks ached from smiling. "You may."
Clarke stepped away, but held out a hand; it was an odd gesture, but she appreciated it. She wanted to stay close and in touch, letting Clarke lead her over to the bar where Raven waited, the bartender watching the two of them closely.
The brief trip wasn't enough for her to wrap her head around what was happening. She'd expected to go to the party to spend time with Costia and Lexa, to support Clarke as a friend. Clarke essentially confessing feelings for her right off the bat was like being kicked in the chest; even if it was something potentially good, something she did yearn for, it was heavy and had her off balance.
She'd been exercising with Clarke for a little over eight weeks. She'd been spending a little time with her most mornings for the past three weeks or so. Anya had never picked up on anything that led to the notion of Clarke liking her like that, yet apparently that seemed to be the case to some extent. If Clarke hadn't worked tirelessly to educate herself and earn her trust, Anya would have shut her down, but knowing Clarke had fought to be better, and had grown as a person? That helped her feel safer around the girl. But the idea that Clarke maybe liked her and was seeking her out tonight? That was hard to fathom.
For now she'd spend time on Clarke's arm in hopes she'd get an explanation or insight. The last thing she wanted was to engage in a half-hearted or spur of the moment romantic endeavour that could cost them their budding friendship.
"So, uh, what do you want to drink?" Clarke asked, and now that they were away from that particular moment, Anya rediscovered her understanding of etiquette and opened up her bag, pulling out a tissue.
"Well, a lemonade would be nice, thank you." She answered, lifting her hand to Clarke's face to dab away her fallen tears. Whatever makeup Clarke was using really held up, it was kind of impressive. "There we are."
Clarke ducked her head, exhaling softly. "God, I must look like a complete mess."
Anya balled up the tissue and tossed it in a nearby trash bin. "You look very pretty, actually. It's a charming look on you...I love the blazer, and the little necklace is a nice touch."  She noted, closing up her bag and setting it on the bar. In truth, the girl's cleavage was on full display, as were her legs, and it was already hard enough to focus with Clarke's eyes and smile being what they were. Clarke was exceptionally beautiful tonight, and there was only so much Anya could do to keep from staring when she looked like that.
"Really? You like it?" Clarke asked, fiddling with the ruby pendant. Not that Anya dared let her gaze drop down from Clarke's eyes. That would be much too dangerous at the moment.
"Are you trying to draw my attention somewhere in particular, Clarke? I certainly wouldn't want to be inappropriate." She decided to be a little direct, if vague in detail, trying to suss out if Clarke was flirting with her on a more physical level or if the girl was just insecure about her appearance.
"Pretty sure Clarke wants you to check out her tits, princess." Anya could feel blood rush to her cheeks at Raven's offhand remark, heart hurting a little at the idea of Clarke telling Raven about that word in particular, let alone letting Raven think it'd be okay to tease her with it. Maybe she shot a glare Clarke's way to express her disapproval. "Alright, I can get why you might be ticked off over that, but why are you mad at...oh."
Clarke shook her head, even as she held Anya's gaze with her own soft blue eyes. "No 'oh', Raven. It's not what you think."
"You call her 'princess'. And she likes it." Raven sounded entirely amused, enough for Anya to shift her glare to the bartender. "Okay, okay, I'll delete that from my vocabulary when it comes to you for Clarke's sake, but I still think it's adorable as hell. And you told me she didn't know you liked her, Griffin. Way to flub on that fact."
"I didn't know. I thought Clarke was just being awkward, and didn't know how to behave around me, so she'd resort to jokes. She's always been a little playful." Anya explained, earning a hard laugh from Raven.
"Maybe, like, in the first five or ten minutes around someone. Not, like, after weeks of spending time together. That's clearly flirting territory." Raven shot back, pouring a glass of lemonade and pushing it over to her.
"Thanks, tips." It was bad enough that she'd missed whatever 'clear' cues Clarke had been giving. Being laughed at over it just added insult to injury.
Raven, of course, just sent a shit-eating grin her way. "Happy to help. Clarke, you want anything to drink?"
"A bottle of water would be great, thanks." Clarke answered, bringing a hand to cup her elbow as she shifted her focus. "And I could have been a lot more obvious if I wanted to be. I didn't want to pressure you or cross a line. I waited until I felt we were close enough to where I could maybe take my shot and have at least some sort of chance."
Anya could appreciate the out Clarke was giving her. Really, she could, and it was terribly sweet of her to do so, but she could own her mistakes. "Clarke, you don't need to defend me for being selectively oblivious. Now why don't we find somewhere to sit?"
Once again Clarke offered a hand, so Anya took hold of her drink with one hand and took Clarke's with her other, letting her host lead her through the property. The yard was large, excessively so, but the farther they got from the bar, the calmer her pulse became. As they stepped into a small enclosed garden area, Anya allowed herself to just pretend it was like earlier that morning, just her and Clarke.
She never did like parties, but she did like Clarke. And she could catch up with Costia eventually, if her favourite dynamic duo didn't track them down first.
Until then, she'd enjoy the company of an intriguing young woman. The night was young, after all.
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pandabearlikes · 7 years
Text
Temporary Affairs II
Table of Contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
a/n: make sure you read through entire chapter ;)
Chapter o6. Self-ie-conscious 
  The second day babysitting Youngwoo was a little better.  He didn’t randomly cry or anything but you also barely picked him up out of fear that you’d hurt him.  The fifth day he was all giggly and active, flailing his little limbs for you to cradle him, so you sucked in air and lifted him slowly into your embrace.  He whimpered a bit at first, startling you.  But you stayed still with him against your chest until gradually he hushed.  By the second week, you thought that you were actually starting to get the hang of things as soon as you stopped freaking out. 
  You dusted your hands off after spreading baby powder all over Youngwoo’s diaper area to prevent him from getting any rashes.  The little baby moved his arms around happily.  Smiling, you patted his little cheeks and lifted him up to place him back into the comfort of his little cradle.  And like a pro, you instantly pressed on the mobile. Soft melodies played in the background as the toy mobile spun above Youngwoo, causing him to giggle gleefully.  Not only was Youngwoo happy, so were you because it gave you sufficient amount of time to clean up the mess on the changing station. 
  When you returned from the restroom, Youngwoo was already fast asleep.  Giggling joyfully yourself, you plopped yourself down on the rocking chair for your much needed break.  As you slowly drifted off to lalaland, a soft beep from your phone sounded.  Sluggishly, you pulled the device out from your pocket to see who dared disturb your beauty sleep.  As soon as the screen lit up, you narrowed your eyes.  Someone had friended you on Facebook…and that someone was none other than Lee Sohee.  You stared at the request.  Was this a battle challenge?  If I rejected then it may seem as if I’m scared of her.  But if I accepted, then things might get ugly super fast.  You bit your nail in debate, weighing the pros and cons. 
  “Nope, not gonna friend you, biotch,” you concluded out loud after five minutes.      
  While your fingers dwelled over the “ignore” button, Youngwoo’s thunderous cries frightened you, causing you to lose your grip over your phone.  Grimacing, you leaned over to clumsily catch the device.  Whew.  But your eyes immediately widened at the screen.  In the mist of saving your phone, you had hit “accept”.  Omg.  Crap.  Crap.  Crap. Not again… 
  Youngwoo’s sobs continued to grow.  Priorities, _______ah!  You tossed the electronic onto the cushioned rocking chair and leapt off to rescue the baby from whatever monster that traumatized him enough to cause such ruckus.  And before you even reached the crib, you had already concluded from the tone of the cry that he was hungry.  So you skillfully U-turned to the kitchen to grab a warm bottle of milk. 
  As soon as Youngwoo was full and burped, you placed him on the automatic cradle by the rocking chair to lull him back to sleep.  Wiping the sweat from your forehead, you picked up the phone again and slouched back down into the heap of cushions and pillows.  Okay, great.  What now?  This was the second time you accidentally lured Sohee into a catfight through Facebook.  Should I unfriend her?  No, that’d be stupid, by now she’d probably already gotten the email saying you accepted. 
  “Fine, you want to be friends?  Let’s be friends then,” you concluded. 
  Broadening your shoulders and holding your chin abnormally up, you clicked on her profile.  You know…since you added her anyway, might as well stalk her a bit.  So she went to high school with Oppa…and college too?  Did that mean they dated or at least knew each other for a while?  You pouted a bit jealous that she knew Jongin for almost a decade longer than you did.  But Oppa said they didn’t have an intimate relationship. 
  Just as you were about to look through her photo albums, the front door opened.  Gasping, you instantaneously hid your phone behind your body to wait for the two men to show up.  Jongin and Sehun were already chatting enthusiastically with one another before entering the baby’s room. 
  “Hey!” you greeted, as soon as they appeared at the doorway. 
  “Hey!” Sehun replied then squatted down to look at the now awaken Youngwoo in his little mini cradle. 
  Your husband extended his arms out and you knowingly jumped into his chest.  He chuckled joyfully at your much more euphoric mood as compared to the first time you babysat Youngwoo. 
  “Did Young-ie cause a lot of trouble today, _______?” Sehun asked, picking his son up into his arms.   
  “Nope.  He was a total sweetheart today!” you said truthfully. 
    In the car, you suggested to get some ice cream since the weather was so hot.  As always, Jongin happily compiled to your sudden cravings.  Midway to the ice cream parlor, a light bulb lit in your head.  Internal evil cackle.
  “Just order one, Oppa.  We can share!” you excitedly proposed.
  By the look on your husband’s face, you were sure he caught on that something was fishy.  But he nodded and got out of the car to order the desert for you.  Taking out your phone, you resumed stalking Sohee’s photos.  Hmm…she did have a good sense of style…even in high school.  You recalled your terrible walk-into-closet-and-pick-whatever-clothes-weren’t-in-the-laundry tactic you had back in high school and cringed. 
  A knock came from the car window and you looked up from your hobby to see Jongin had returned.  Eep.  You quickly exited out of the application and leaned over to unlock the door for him. 
  “Here you go, Jagiya,” he spoke, holding the strawberry ice cream cone in front of you. 
  But instead of taking it, you grabbed a tissue and gently wiped the sweat off of Jongin’s face.
  “It must have been super hot waiting in line.  Sorry, Oppa,” you apologized sincerely. 
  “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled, holding the ice cream out for you again.
  This time you took it. 
  “Oppa, let’s take a picture,” you suggested, holding out your phone. 
  With the ice cream in between the two of you, you directed for Jongin to lean in and lick the desert from one side while you did the same on the other.  Satisfied with the positioning, you snapped the selfie. 
  “Here,” you shoved the ice cream to your husband.  He looked at you amused but took it so that you could focus on your task of selecting the prettiest filters and bokeh for the couple picture.  In between your contemplating whether to add a border or not, Jongin held the treat up to your lip so you could enjoy it before it completely melted.  Without taking your attention from your phone, you stuck your tongue out and licked the ice cream.  Jongin shook his head at your silliness. 
   Pleased with how the picture came out, you posted it on Facebook with the caption, “Ice cream kiss with hubby”.  You finished your mischief by tagging your husband in the picture.  Pftt…what do you think Lee Sohee?!?!
 _________ _________ : 1    Lee Sohee: 0!!!  Bwhahahahaahhaaha. 
  “What so funny, Babe?” Jongin asked, feeding you the rest of the ice cream. 
  “Ohh, nothing,” you replied but failed to hide your naughty grin. 
  Jongin pinched your nose but didn’t grill you further, grateful to witness your uplifted mood.   
-----
  For the next few days, you were obsessed with taking pictures of you and Jongin together.  Whether you were simply eating dinner, or out on a date, or even just snuggling together, you snapped a selfie, added blinding effects and filters, and posted it up for Lee Sohee  the world to see. 
  But for some reason, that one homecoming picture of Jongin and his ex engraved permanently in the back of your mind.  So to counter it, you continued to indulge in your new hobby.  You took pictures of Jongin in his office, in his car, watching television, sleeping, and even in the shower.  Yes, in the shower. 
  Cackling naughtily, you turned the knob and barged into the bathroom. 
  “What is the world – “ Jongin asked, startled by your intrusion.
  Throwing up some bunny ear fingers, you said, “Smile!”
  Snap 
  Still giggling, you exited the restroom. 
  A few hours later as you were busy stuffing chips into your mouth and chatting over the phone with your best friend, Bang Minah, your husband came in looking a bit flustered.
  “Jagiya, why did Kyungsoo-hyung send me a text saying that my buttcrack is on Facebook?” he asked, raising his brow. 
  The bag of chips fell from your hands. 
  “Hello?  _______ah?  Hello?” Minah said through the phone.
  “I’ll call you back later,” you said and hung up. 
  Scrambling, you climbed over the bed to the computer to examine the pictures you posted.  And there it was, an inch of your husband’s booty managed to show up in the shower picture without you knowing.  No, no, no!  Crap.  You immediately clicked “delete”. 
  “No!  No one in this world is allowed to see my hubby’s precious butt but me!” you said under your breath.
  Beside you, your husband shook his head and gave you a light smooch on the cheek. 
    -----
Chairs flipped and tables screeched.  You held your back, bending over to scoot the furniture even further.  With a towel over his damp hair, Jongin walked in curiously. 
  “Babe, be careful!” your husband shouted, tossing the towel on the floor to support you before you fell over.
  “Hehe,” you giggled but Jongin was not amused.
  “What are you doing?” he asked, his arm still holding tightly against your waist.
  “Um, just moving things around…” you beat around the bushes.
  “For…”
  “For pictures…” you finally admitted. 
  “For…” he continued to grill.
  You squirmed in his arm and changed the subject, “Oppa, go dry your hair first then I’ll tell you”.
  Waddling, you physically scooted him to the bathroom so he would leave you alone to remodel the room for your photo shoot.  However, Jongin always had the ability to persuade you into ditching your plans to fool around with him. 
  Sitting on a chair, he stared up at you like a little puppy as you towel dried and wrung the water out of his hair for him.  You tried your best to avoid eye contact but the little puppy kept tugging on your sleeve so you caved.  His eyes glimmered back at you like shining stars.  Gahh I’m gonna faint.  Trying your best to hide you foolish grin, you shoved the towel back to Jongin and backed up to leave but he looped his arms around your belly.  You giggled, wiggling in his grip as he continued to suffocate you with his little aegyo stunt.  He pulled you by the neck so you puckered your lips awaiting a kiss but instead he shook his wet hair causing droplets to cover all over your face.   
  “Oppaaa,” you whined.  He laughed, making up by pecking you all over your face.
  You gave in and continued to dry his hair with a blow dryer.  The whole time, he still continued to smile at you with that goofy grin of his and each time he did so, you’d melt a little on the inside. 
  Finally, after ten minutes, your husband released you back to your room to prepared your makeshift stage.  Pushing all the furniture to the side, you hauled in bags and bags of curtains, laces, and fabrics.  With a flick of the hand, the fabric unrolled in front of you like a Hollywood red carpet.  As you tiptoed to hang the curtains, a wild Kim Jongin showed up at the door to offer help.  And even though you wanted it to be a surprise, you gave in and invited him into the room again. 
  “Can I know what you’re doing now?” he asked, easily hanging the curtains up due to his taller physique. 
  You pouted childishly, rubbing you protruding tummy. 
  “I wanted it to be special,” you said bitterly.
  “What’s ‘it’?” your hubby asked.
  “Maternity photoshoot,” you finally admitted. 
  The earlier confusion on his face softened into a tender smile.  He walked over, taking both your hands into his. 
  “It can still be special, even if it’s not a surprise.  In fact, can I be part of it?” he asked.
  Your eyes lit up and you questioned, “Really?  You want to be in it?” 
  “Of course,” he sincerely replied. 
  “Okay,” you said, looking at the floor shyly. 
  So for the rest of the preparation, you got to comfortably sit on the rocking chair while Jongin setup the background, lights, and cameras. 
  The original gray curtains were replaced with beautiful lace and crystal ones that refracted light in all different directions.  The floors were lined with tulle and silk, creating a Heavenly, cloud-like environment.  You changed into a flowy white dress and flower crown while Jongin contrasted in a black dress shirt and white tie. 
  For the first half of the session, Jongin transformed into a professional photographer, directing you to stand in different spots.  With your wispy hair framing your face, you turned at a perfect ¾ angle, with one hand over and one hand under your belly.  Snap  A succession of bright flashes of light captured the serene moment while Jongin continuously pressed the shutter button.  When that was over, the handsome photographer sat down on the floor to admire his work of art. 
  Excitedly, you skipped over and joined him.  He slipped his arm around your shoulders and happily handed the camera to you.  Gasping in awe at his breathtaking photography skills, you swore you felt liquid begin to cloud your eyes. 
  “It’s so beautiful,” you unconsciously spoke.
  “You’re so beautiful,” Jongin corrected. 
  You turned around with teary eyes and he automatically placed his lips on yours.  His fingers stroked your hair, bringing you closer to him.  And in that moment, you wished with every part of your body for time to stop forever.  But his lips eventually separated from yours.  You greedily leaned in for another quick peck.  Oppa, I really love you.  Please keep me around…even…if I’m not good enough. 
  “I will try to be good enough,” you said in an inaudible whisper as your forehead leaned against his.
  “What did you say?” Jongin questioned but you shook your head. 
  Taking the camera from your hands, your husband pressed a few buttons and placed the camera onto the tripod before joining you by the windowsill for a couple shoot.  Smiling shyly, you held his hand as it looped securely around your pregnant waist.  Snap  Several more shots followed with different themes and poses. 
  When Jongin went to fix something with the lights, you sat down to look through the gorgeous photos.  Never in your life did you think you’d get the chance to have a maternity shoot, much less with such an attractive other half.  Stopping on a picture of Jongin kissing your tummy, a teardrop fell onto the screen and you quickly wiped it away before your husband saw.  You’re not sure why lately you’ve become so emotional.  Perhaps, it was the preggo hormones…or maybe it was something else that had been bothering you for a while now…
  Rubbing your tummy, you quietly asked, “Do you think Appa would keep me even if he realizes I’m not mature enough to be your mother?” 
  A light kicked answered and you blinked back tears. 
  “Jagiya, it’s fixed,” Jongin informed, motioning for you to go back to your position. 
  When you stood up, you finally realized your right leg was asleep when it buckled causing you to stumble forward.  Immediately, your child’s father rushed forward to support you. 
  “Jagiya!  I told you to be careful!  You’re a mother now, you have to watch your steps or you’ll hurt our daughter,” Jongin scolded. 
  With teary eyes, you looked up at him.  His angry expression instantly unstiffened.
  “Sorry…” you apologized, biting your lip. 
  “No, Honey, I didn’t mean it that way,” he corrected.
  “No, it’s fine,” you assured, feigning a smile. 
  Unwinding your hand from his, you slowly walked over to the window again.  Your husband followed shortly after.  And as you stared into his deep black eyes, you got your answer.  So you held him a little closer, sniffing in his scent, and remembering the feeling of having his arms around you.  Just in case…you think.  Just in case.  Jongin grinned widely, oblivious to the toxic thoughts that raided your mind. 
  As the skies grew dark, Jongin began to move the furniture back into position.  Sitting on the edge of the bed with your legs swinging around like a little girl, you watched as the moonlight casted beautiful laced floral prints against Jongin’s face.  Taking out your phone, you secretly snapped a few candid shots of him.  You know…just in case. 
  Sniffing back tears, you requested, “Oppa, can we take one more with my phone?” 
  He stopped what he was doing, turned around, and nodded.  Setting the timer on your phone, you placed it onto the tripod and dashed to rejoin Jongin.  Midway, you slowed down, mentally cursing at yourself for forgetting to be careful once again.  With your forehead against his and arms around his neck, the phone camera flashed brightly capturing the precious moment.  And instead of posting it on Facebook like what your husband expected you to do, you changed it as your phone wallpaper so you could stare at it every time you missed this feeling…you know…just in case there wasn’t a next time…             
      a/n: Le sigh.  The ending of this chapter gets me every time.  There’s this melancholy feeling at the thought of a super bubbly person turning depressed as compared to an originally pessimistic person having these negative thoughts…it’s as if her wings got clipped off. ಥ ̯ ಥ
  Are you guys ready for tomorrow’s chapter?  It’s that chapter I cried my eyes out writing and actually had to decrease the angst/change the chapter at 4AM in the morning because it got too sad for my kokoro. 
(╥﹏╥) 
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ecotone99 · 4 years
Text
[MF] 60 seconds
60 seconds
Chapter 1
I hate my life. How did I even get here? I don’t think I’ve done too bad for myself. I finished school, attempted college, found the love of my life and I have a beautiful daughter Holly. Yet here I am, sitting alone in my empty flat, laid in bed, alone, beer in hand. I don’t think I’m a bad guy, I didn’t deserve to be cheated on and that fucking snidey bitch twisted everything and now Holly wants NOTHING to do with me. I miss her so much.
I don’t want to wake up tomorrow, I don’t want to go to work. It’s not that I don’t enjoy work, I mean, sure, it takes my mind off the bullshit that's gone off, and my boss isn’t a bad boss, he’s actually pretty understanding and accommodating of my situation. He does sometimes just flip the fuck out for no reason, and I get the brunt of his attitude, but he takes the brunt of mine when I’m having a bad day, and I’ve not been fired, yet. He’s a bit of a snob though I guess, typical wine tasting, 6 holidays a year taking, Mercedes owning, golf player who lives in a mansion while the people he pays live in council flats. Yeah he’s a dick too. Fuck that guy.
I’m currently on just above minimum wage at a stupid call centre, I work inbound accepting or rejecting loans. It pays well I guess, but not well enough for my bitch of an ex wife to stay interested in me. To be fair, I can barely stay interested in me anymore, I’m such a fucking loser since she stole my Holly away from me.
I’ve resorted to reading conspiracy theories on the internet. Sometimes I just get lost in other worlds, in alternate realities, cause Lord knows any life would be better than the one I’m living. I think the only issue with that hobby is that I’m getting super paranoid, that on top of the surplus amounts of alcohol I’ve been consuming on a daily basis. I’m SURE I’m being watched, listened to, followed. I’ve turned all location services off on my phone, my blinds stay closed, my webcam and phone camera are all taped up.
I was reading this one thing about some guy, Stephen Mulberry or something that’s trying to take over and monitor the world via CCTV. It’s a pretty convincing read, you should look it up. If it’s true, the guys are a total creep and I’m glad I have my cameras covered. The theory is probably not even worth listening to, it’s the most unrealistic rumour going around, no matter how interesting of a read it is.
Right, nearly 1pm, I’m up in 5 hours, I need to go to bloody work again. I hate the night shift, sleeping in the day is HARD. Who wants a loan at night anyway? Same old work, home, drink, sleep, work, home, drink, sleep. My life is a goddamn mess. I need this to end. It’s not like I’ll be missed.
SIXTY
What the ACTUAL FUCK?
FIFTY NINE
Is that coming from my speaker?
FIFTY EIGHT
I’m sure the TV isn’t on?
FIFTY SEVEN
It’s not new years is it?
FIFTY SIX
My head can’t be that fucked up
FIFTY FIVE
I’m sure it’s March..
FIFTY FOUR
What’s going ON???
FIFTY THREE
Am I hallucinating again?
FIFTY TWO
I need to call an ambulance, I’m clearly not well.
FIFTY ONE
I miss you Holly.
Chapter 2
Ah, Full English, again. 2nd of the day. Delightful. I’d say that Brenda is the best maid I’ve had this year, she’s a little old but at least she’s English and she can cook Full English breakfasts a hell of a lot better than that young tart Jessica could. I’m not going to beat around the bush, Jess was a treat to the eye, but that’s not my main focus right now. She was a shit maid, couldn’t clean for shit, no idea how she even got into this line of work! I need a clean house, a spotless house!
My little girl cannot possibly suffer any more than she already is and a dusty house is no condition for a child with lung cancer. She’s too young, my poor baby Emily. I’m putting every penny I have into the best treatment for her, I’m working my arse off for her, she NEEDS to be okay, she can’t NOT be okay,
I’m so damn stressed, I constantly snap at work and my dumb employee’s have no idea what’s going on and just call me all the names under the sun. I don’t care, they can call me whatever they like as long as they’re earning me money to help my poor precious Emily.
Sometimes I wish it was me with the cancer, I’d handle that a million times better than seeing my baby girl suffer. I do look after her when I can though, I take her away with me. Me, my wife Anabelle and our daughter, we go everywhere. I want to show them the world, I want to give them the world, I need her to be happy. I’m going to level with you, I know my money is useless and I can’t possibly get better treatment than what is already being provided, but I don’t care. I’ll keep working, and pushing my lazy workers until Emily has seen every last inch of this gorgeous planet we live on. Fuck, I’d send her to the moon if I had the funds and that’s what she wanted.
She doesn’t want that though, she wants a normal life at school with her friends. Her dumb friends who don’t understand how serious her condition is. The girls are constantly leaving her out and no boy her age wants a girlfriend who can’t run in a field with them at playtime. She shouldn’t even be at school, but she wants it, so she gets it. I’d say out of the whole school there’s one girl I trust, one girl who GETS my Emily, but her mother is a scrounging little bitch who I can’t fucking stand to be quite honest with you. She scoffs at ME for taking Emily on “too many holidays”. I know what’s best for my daughter, not some good for nothing, benefit system abusing little filthy woman.
I need to calm the fuck down. I seriously am way too stressed. I can’t let Emily see me getting upset. I’ve tried this new app that has calming and meditation techniques. I personally think it’s bullshit, but I’ll give anything a try to keep Emily happy. The best thing I’ve tried so far is to close my eyes, inhale as much as my lungs will possibly intake, and count down from 10 slowly while I exhale and for every second, I have to think of one thing I’m grateful for. I just spend the whole 10 seconds imagining I’m holding Emily. That ALWAYS works for me.
FIFTY
No, I start from 10
FORTY NINE
What?
FORTY EIGHT
That can’t be brenda?
FORTY SEVEN
Her phone isn’t that loud is it?
FORTY SIX
Is her phone ringing?
FORTY FIVE
Hang on, is Emily playing hide and seek?
FORTY FOUR
Who the fuck is she playing with? She doesn’t have the lung capacity to be running around playing childish games and I’ve specifically kept her off school today.
FORTY THREE
EMILY?!
FORTY TWO
CAN YOU HEAR ME BABY? STOP PLAYING SO LOUD YOU’LL WEAR YOURSELF OUT
FORTY ONE
EMILY!!!!! She’ll listen to me one day.
Chapter 3
I’m bored. Nobody here likes me and my best friend isn’t here today. I don’t understand any of this work and I don’t get why we have to learn about boring Vikings anyway. It’s not like they’re coming back. I can’t wait for playtime, and I’m hungry. I always get left out, and nobody wants to play the games I want to play so I just have to sit around and play on my own. It’s so unfair, my best friend gets loads of days off and I’m stuck here EVERYDAY.
My mum never lets me have a day off, and she never lets me have any presents. She’s rubbish too. I want to go round to my best friend's house. She gets EVERYTHING she wants. She says it's because her daddy loves her so much. I wish I knew what that was like. I don’t even know who my daddy is, I’m just stuck at home with my boring rubbish mum who always shouts at me. She never has time for me and I don’t know why. Kids at school say my mum is on benefits like it's an insult, but if she is, when why is she never at home? I think she works too hard. She’s never here for me.
She always makes time for Charlie though, which is so unfair. He gets “coo’d” all day, and played with, I just get told to go to my room and practice my reading. I’m more cleverer than everyone in my class anyway, I don’t need to practice reading.
When my big sister comes home from Uni, it’s better, she’s fun. I miss her so much. She’s going to be a teacher one day, but I wish she was a teacher now because then maybe I’d have someone on my side, not just teachers sticking up for the other kids because they “didn’t see anyone hit me”.
URGHHHH I’m sooooo bored. Vikings had cool helmets but that’s about it, the rest of it is boooring! I can’t wait for play time, I wonder how many minutes are left. I love timing things, and counting things. It takes me 3007 steps to walk to school, all of my favourite books have 60 pages in, I can fit 3 cheerios on my spoon at a time, and I get upset if there’s 1 or 2 left at the end of my bowl instead of an even 3. Playtime MUST be soon, I bet there’s at least 3 minutes, that's 60 seconds 3 times.
FORTY
No, we start at 180 seconds, not 60
THIRTY NINE
Wrong again
THIRTY EIGHT
Am I really thinking this loud?
THIRTY SEVEN
Hang on.. That’s not in my head
THIRTY SIX
Is it?
THIRTY FIVE
I can’t concentrate, I’ll start again, 60, 59..
THIRTY FOUR
URGH STOP COUNTING SO LOUD YOU’RE PUTTING ME OFF
THIRTY THREE
I just want to eat my snack and play on the monkey bars.
THIRTY ONE
WE START AT 180, NOT SIXTY.
Chapter 4
Oh my sweet baby boy what’s wrong? Why are you crying? Mummies here. I’ve got you. I can’t pick you up sweetheart, mummy is shopping! Aww you’re so cute, coochy coochy coo! Being a mum to 3 kids is Hard. Fucking. Work.
My eldest is away at uni right now so she’s out of the way thank god. No wait. I don’t mean that in a bad way, she’s doing great and I’m so proud of her! It’s just, I’m just always so busy and my younger two are such a damn handful. My second child, Olivia is such an attention seeker. Don’t get me wrong, I love her to bits but I always have my hands full with this gorgeous little boy. It’s not like I can leave him on his own, but she can play by herself in her room while I’m doing other things at least.
I want to give her the time and attention she needs but it’s hard on my own. Her so-called “father” fucked off soon as she turned 3 months, apparently he thought having a child was like having a free trial that he could end any time because I’ve not seen, heard from, or had a penny off him since.
Despite what everyone thinks, I’m working three jobs at the minute to keep the family afloat, and I’ve just applied for a fourth, which hopefully will be full time and then I could drop 2 jobs. I’d love that, it’d give me more time with Olivia. The ONLY downside is the place I’ve applied for, is run by a posh twat I can’t stand. I only heard about it through the school mum's grapevine, I don’t think he’d like me working there, but apparently the hours and pay are great.
I’ve had to use a false name on my CV because Olivia is his kids best friend, and I don’t want him recognising my name and turning down the chance of an interview based off of my name, and reputation, not my customer service phone call skills. I mean, it’s not like they’re perfect anyway, and I feel like if I did get the job, when he realised who I was he might treat me a little worse than other staff members, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve had a shit tonne of bullshit hurled my way and I’m still here, still alive, still living off noodles and beans so my kids can have a good life.
I’m fucking trying okay. So what I have to shop at Primark. I wish kids didn’t grow so fucking fast, I’m not going to buy branded clothes for them to grow out of in a week. I can’t afford to give them everything but I’m trying. Don’t judge me. I hate Primark, the quality is okay but the tills always take forever because their queues are so damn long, how are they even this busy mid afternoon? And that stupid robotic voice! “Till number…..”
THIRTY
Thirty? I didn't know there were 30 tills??
TWENTY NINE
Christ, it’s moving fast than I thought, maybe primark isn’t so bad
TWENTY EIGHT
One second to serve someone? Why can’t it always be like this.
TWENTY SEVEN
Hang on, the lines not moving.
TWENTY SIX
Is this a customer service announcement?
TWENTY FIVE
It’s not closing time already, surely?
TWENTY FOUR
Or is this a test?
TWENTY THREE
Did they see the pants I put in my bag?
TWENTY TWO
Surely not. I’m just trying to save a quid or two, Jesus Christ these speakers are so invasive!
TWENTY ONE
FINE FINE I’LL PAY FOR THE DAMN PANTS!
Chapter 5
Today is the day. I’ve got to start being honest with people or everyones just going to get hurt. But holy shit I’m so screwed. I mean, it’s not like it’s something I didn’t want, but it’s so not the right time. I’m graduating next year, or suppose to be, but how can I do that with a little one? My mum will kill me if I drop out, but I can’t not keep this little love bundle.
Who shall I tell first? My mum or my boyfriend. Fuck it. I’ve brought him out tonight, I’ve paid for his meal cinema ticket, I’ll tell him after the movie. That’ll soften the blow, right? I mean, I took him to his favourite place, which in my opinion is SEVERELY overrated and over priced, and now we’re watching this new stupid superhero film I’ve no interest in. Maybe he’ll suspect something is up, I’m not usually this nice. Not that I’m usually a bitch but I’m a hard person to be around if I don’t get my own way.
I just hope he takes the news well and doesn’t fuck off like my dad did, because I’m not getting rid of this little one, even if I have to do this alone, my mum copes okay, and I’ll have her to help, and a degree behind me so I should be fine, right?
Anyway, I need to not think about this right now, I need to concentrate on this stupid film, maybe if a pay attention to it, James will see I’m willing to put more effort into how he feels, and he’ll be more empathtic about my situation? Maybe? Do guys even think like that? I literally have no clue. I hope so!
Urgh, why do adverts have to go on for so long? I booked this film to start at half 12, it’s now almost 1pm and we’re not even past the stupid ads yet. Why not put the film start time as the ACTUAL time it starts, not just some random amount of time before and waste everyones time with dumb adverts. All that means is that James will probably see more dumb superhero films he’ll want to come see, and then he’s blackmail me into seeing them so he doesn’t leave me alone to bring up our child. Fuck, I started thinking about the kid again. Stop it Laura.
TWENTY
Does it usually get this dark at the Cinema?
NINTEEN
Ooh they have countdowns now, that’s fancy.
EIGHTEEN
Did they really have to start at 60?
SEVENTEEN
How did I not notice before? Must be baby brain, ignoring my surroundings
SIXTEEN
Maybe I can make use of that and ignore this stupid film.
FIFTEEN
Okay okay, I get it, let's just start the film.
FOURTEEN
I wonder if its a boy or a girl
THIRTEEN
Damnit Laura, stop the baby thoughts, maybe just focus on the film, okay?
TWELVE
Hurry up and get it started already!
ELEVEN
I fucking love you James, I hope you never leave us.
Chapter 6
I’m sick of everyone. My mums a good for nothing drug abusing filthy whore, my dads an alcoholic sleazebag who just uses me as his punchbag, then wonders why I never leave my room. And friends? What fucking friends? I’m sick of this shit. Nobody fucking listens to me.
There’s been ONE person, one fucking person in my entire life that’s been civil with me, and she goes out with a fucking idiot who’s a lazy good for nothing preppy twat. She fucking idolisies him. I’d give her the world if she’d pay me any proper attention. I asked her out once, but she said no because she’s not from around here and when she goes home for the holidays it would be too hard. But apparently that’s not a problem for James, he’s so good looking it doesn’t matter how far away they are, she’ll always love him.
Why can’t I find that same devotion? Why can’t I have that same respect. I’ll tell you why. Because I have no power, I have no authority, I’m “too good of a friend to lose by being in a relationship with”. Okay, treat me like a fucking friend then. Stop mocking me behind my back.
I’ll shut you up. I’ll fucking do it. I don’t care. You wanna hit me again Tom? Fine, hit me, I don’t care, when this world is over I’ll be the one laughing. I’ve been watching you all anyway. Every. Last. One of you. I see you cheating, and sleeping, and eating, and working, and soon I’ll take care of every last idiot that crossed my path and did me wrong. You’ll see. You’ll all see. You can't disrespect me when you’re dead. I’m too fucking clever for you.
I’ve been working on a worldwide monitoring system I can hear all, and see all.. All I have to do is press one fucking button and that’s it, everything in the world shuts off after a 60 second countdown played through every speaker in the world. No power, and the eventual blow out of electricity build up will cause worldwide electrical fires, and kill everyone.. I’m still trying to figure out how to get cars to stop but I’ll get there.
That will be wonderful to watch, watch everyone and everything crash and burn! I just need to find a way to get all the twats in my life who’ve wronged me on life support, then when I’m ready, I’ll pull the plug on all of them at once, not only will all their organs fail at once, but they’ll burn too. That will show them to disrespect me!
You know what. I can’t stand this, I hate my life. I’m going to do it tonight. I’ve had enough of being the runt of the litter. The brunt of the jokes. The punching bag. I’m doing it now. No stop it. You’ve had too much to drink. You can’t do this. Stop. Think. Rationalise. . It probably won’t work anyway, the software isn’t tested. Of course it isn’t tested you idiot if you test it, the world burns. You’re so damn stupid. No wonder everyone hates you.
Just go to bed. Sleep it off. Things might be better tomorrow. Tell you what. Get this bottle in the bin and tomorrow will be a good day. Miss, and, well.. You can try again the next day I suppose. Ready? Aim and….
NO NOT THERE
shit.
SHIT.
What have I done?
Not there.
Fuck.
Abort.
ABORT!
I DON'T WANT TO DIE.
I’M NOT FUCKING READY.
I’M SUCH AN IDIOT.
I HOPE THIS DOESN’T WORK.
Okay, stay calm, maybe you can reverse this.
What if I?
No that won't work?
I can’t concentrate.
TEN
Shit no wait
NINE
Stop!
EIGHT
Turn the fuck off!
SEVEN
I don’t want to go!
SIX
I love you mum.
FIVE
Just give me one more fucking minute!
FOUR
Come on think think think this must be reversible
THREE
You’re a fucking idiot Stephen Mulberry.
TWO
I’m fucking sorry okay?
ONE.
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selenaslittletalks · 7 years
Text
2 Months
In two days, it will be 2 months since I graduated from college.  To be frank, I am nowhere near where I expected to be and things aren’t the way I envisioned.  
I thought by now I would have secured a job.  I thought by now I would be beginning my career as a software engineer.  I thought by now I would be starting my adult life.  But I’m not.
Ever since the beginning of Senior year, I felt the immense pressure of getting a job. It was my mistake for not taking applying and the job application process seriously until Spring Quarter. And now I’m paying for it.  
Right now, I’ve currently applied to 253 places.  I hear back from very little.  If you look at my spreadsheet, it’s full of red, meaning rejections.  And I maybe get extended a phone interview every blue moon.  I’ve lost count of how many phone interviews I’ve done.  I should of kept track of that too..  But clearly, they did not go well.  
I even began applying out of state, with hopes those positions are less impacted and that I’ll have a better chance there.  Those are proving to be about the same in effectiveness.  I’ve researched the cities, the demographics, the political climate, and the lifestyles of these potential cities.  And I was foolish enough to construct my life in these cities.  I dreamt of how my life would be, my apartment, going to concerts, only to have them shattered by an email informing me that they’ve decided to move on with other candidates.  
A while ago, I told myself to never cry over this.  No, I promised myself I would never cry over this.  But after being told no so many times, and having to get up and try again so many times, I broke. What no one tells you about this process is how grueling and draining it is.  I’ve been in a very bad place because of all this pressure I put on myself. I’ve isolated myself from all the “friends” I had.  I deleted Facebook, and am inactive on Instagram and other social media because I don’t want to see all the success that everyone else has.  I just don’t need the constant reminders that I’m going nowhere, that I’m being left in the dust.  I feel as I should be punished for not having a job yet.  I’ve withheld buying many things for myself because I didn’t deserve them.  I’ve tried for a long time to put on a brave face and get up even stronger than before, but I’ve reached a point where it hurts.  I now too often find myself bawling on the floor, crying myself to sleep. Thoughts of being a failure, being not enough, and being incompetent fill my mind with demons.  And I hate to say it but I’m beginning to lose hope in myself.  
I know once I give up, I lose.  I’ve been doing coding problems every day, I’ve been trying to start a project, I’ve been trying to learn new languages and libraries.  But for some reason all that I do just isn’t enough.  
I haven’t been in this bad of a place since high school.  Those dreadful thoughts are beginning to cloud and poison my brain again.  And I’m hanging on for dear life.  I’m fighting for every glimmer of hope and happiness in my life.  I rewatched OTH recently, and newly-reclaimed Sophia Bush as my idol.  And I owe a lot to her for instilling inspiration back into me each day.  And to the greatest love of my life thus far, Game of Thrones, I am eternally in-debt to you for providing me with an hour a week of escape from this life.  And I am sad that the season is almost over in 2 weeks.. For Emma, Forever Ago, thank you for being the album where I can release all my sadness and sorrows to. You hold all my pain when I can’t.
I’m trying to be positive about this, and of course it is an insanely difficult task. There’s this quote by Victor Hugo from Les Mis, “For a star to be born, there is one thing that must happen: a gaseous nebula must collapse. So collapse. Crumble.  This is not your destruction.  This is your birth.”  Soph liked this on Instagram one day, and I really needed it.  It’s a lot like what they say about needing low points in your life to have high ones.  Another quote she liked was: “You will get through this.  You won’t feel this way forever. This is going to subside.  Your body is becoming stronger. You are still growing even though it’s painful.  You are still moving forward even if it’s at a slower pace. Your life still will be enriched because of your struggles.  You are still so radically loved by all of existence.  You still have stardust in your veins and light glowing around you. This lesson is so very temporary. Have gratitude because miracles are coming.”  This one felt as if someone looked at me and told me everything I needed to hear.  
So maybe I was wrong the first time in telling myself not to cry over this. Granted, I was naïve and didn’t know what was coming.  I didn’t know of the immense feelings that where going to rush over me in tidal waves.  So, I’ll leave this time with a different plan.
Selena, promise me you will never quit till you reach your dreams.  This is an on-going war.  You’re losing battles.  But keep fighting.  Keep training. And keep getting up when you’re knocked down.  I know one day, you’ll win.  You’ll be victorious and successful.  And I can’t wait for the feelings that come with it, because it will be much greater due to all the battles you’ve fought and overcame.  Just remember that wars are ugly.  It will take time.  You’ll get hurt. You’ll lose hope.  You’ll cry.  You’ll be angry.  All of it will bring you to your knees, and beg you to quit. But you can never quit, because you’re stronger than that.  Have faith and belief in yourself, because you’ve gotten too far to back down.  Be kind and love yourself because you’re all you have and you need yourself to win this war.
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