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#and maintaining conversations with my mutuals without making them wait a whole week for me to muster the spoons to talk
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so here's what i'm thinking -- i'm gonna remake this blog. i've wondered for a while if i shouldn't just remake and start over ( with some exceptions ofc ) bc i've felt overwhelmed whenever i try to be here. it's my fault bc i let things pile up too much, and that happened bc i think i've just been biting off more than i can chew at a time.
that's why i'm going to attempt to make my blog a lil more private/selective this time around. i probably won't follow everyone on my new blog who i follow currently simply bc i want to focus more on my mutuals than i have been, and there's just no way i can do that if i'm following 100+ people. obviously if we're long time mutuals or we've interacted ic or ooc, you're stuck with me <3 but otherwise, pls know there's absolutely no hard feelings if i don't follow you!! i just want to be sure i'm surrounding myself with people i'm comfy with, especially when my social battery is low all the time lately. i promise if i could write and talk to everyone, i would ;n;
honestly!! it's gonna take me a while to remake bc it's gonna be a lot. it's gonna be a slow process bc i gotta set up the blog, the muse pages, reblog headcanons and whatnot, so it'll be a minute before i start all of this thanks to school. i just wanted to go ahead and get this post out and circulating so y'all know why i might be kinda silent aside from being busy.
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duskholland · 4 years
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Say Goodnight | Harrison Osterfield
Summary ↠ you and Harrison broke up before he left to chase his dreams in Hollywood. With 5,000 miles between you, you’re both struggling to adjust to life without the other; exes to lovers; prompt: “why did you call me at 2 in the morning?”
Warnings ↠ angst with a happy ending, a breakup, one curse word?
Word Count ↠ 2.7k
A/N ↠ I miss Harrison. A lot. And I haven’t written enough for him, so...here ya go! This is definitely inspired by Ariana Grande’s song goodnight n go, which never fails to hit me in the feels (listen to the version from her live album... it’s magic).
This is also my fic for @t-holland2080​‘s writing challenge! Thanks so much for hosting such a fun challenge Sammy - I hope you enjoy this :)
(a repost because tumblr decided to block me out the tags lmao)
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You didn’t think it was possible to cry this much.
Harrison’s standing in front of you, glistening tear tracks running down his rosy cheeks. His eyes shift over your face, guiltily running the lines and curves of your cheeks and your forehead, trying desperately to stay away from your eyes, because you both know that seeing the heartbreak reflected in his icy blue gaze will be too much. Your chest hurts and you’re shaking, but you know that everything he’s said is true. You know that breaking up is for the best.
But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“I still love you,” Harrison tells you quietly. He rocks back on his feet, his teeth grazing his lower lip before he adds, “I’ll always love you, Y/N. The timing just…”
“The timing isn’t right,” you finish. With shaky hands, you reach up behind your neck and your fingers fiddle with the clasp of the necklace Harrison had draped around you, all those months ago. He makes a small sound of objection as the chain falls heavily into your hands and you hold it out in front of you. “Keep it,” you urge. You finally let yourself meet his eyes, and you try to stay strong as you grab his hand and push the chain into his palm. “So you don’t forget about me whilst you’re off being a movie star.”
Harrison reluctantly pockets the chain, his eyes lingering on the solid curve of the H. “I could never forget about you, Y/N.”
It’s not fair. It’s not fair that the only way Harrison can pursue his dreams is 5,000 miles away, across the Atlantic in America. It’s even more unfair that you can’t go with him because you’re enrolled in university in London. But worst of all, neither of you signed up for a long-distance relationship when you first began dating, and now you’ve had to come to the mutual, heartbreaking decision that breaking up is going to be easier than stringing out a virtual relationship together. It doesn’t matter that you love Harrison more than you’ve ever loved another person, nor that he holds you so closely to his heart that he’s certain you’ve somehow intertwined yourself with his soul: long-distance is too much, and you both think you’ll be too busy to maintain your relationship. Neither of you want to sit by and watch your relationship break down.
So breaking up is simpler, supposedly.
“You should go,” you find yourself saying, swallowing down the lump in your throat. Your hand rests on your front door knob, the cool brass feeling icy against your warm skin. You use your other hand to sweep beneath your cheeks, trying to stop the endless flow of tears from your eyes. “Don’t want you to miss your flight, Haz.”
He runs his hand through his hair, a grimace spread across his face.
“I- Are you sure this is the right choice?” He asks, echoing the words you’ve both been saying for days.
You shrug helplessly. “I don’t know,” you admit. “But I know that I can’t stand here waiting for you to walk away any longer.” You release a deep breath. “Just go, Harrison. Please.”
And he looks like he really wants to stay. His feet twitch, as if he’s about to push his way back into your flat and throw himself down on the sofa like he’s done a thousand times before. But his eyes pass over your tearful, heart stricken face, and he finally sighs, slipping his hands into his back pockets as he manages a weak smile.
“Goodbye, Y/N,” he says softly, his lips curving around the words with ease. The way he says your name so fondly causes the pain in your chest to crack and expand.
“Bye, Harrison.”
And then he turns, slowly, and you watch as he drags his feet down the corridor. Harrison pauses when he reaches the staircase, one hand on the door as he casts his eyes back towards you. Your mouth twitches into a smile instinctively: the sight of his face, his loose blond curls, and his friendly smile never fails to make you feel warmer - even now, as he walks out of your life, taking a piece of your heart with him.
You raise your hand in a final wave, and then Harrison steels himself and walks through the door at the end of the corridor, leaving you standing alone in your doorway, a lump in your throat and a weight hanging so heavily in your heart that you know you won’t be forgetting him any time soon.
[-----]
Life without Harrison is hard.
Before you’d started dating him a year ago, you hadn’t believed love could feel so fulfilling or right. But then you’d stumbled into him at Tom’s birthday party and you’d immediately hit it off, and everything had changed. You think it would be hard not to instantly fall in love with Harrison: he’s charming, witty, and he carries such a bright light in his eyes that he had you hook, line, and sinker within the first ten minutes of your conversation.
As you try to move on, you find Harrison haunting your every move. You open Instagram and you see his posts and stories staring you right in the face, broadcasting his life out in LA with his new friends and castmates, and it stings. When you strike out and find yourself in the pub with Sam, all you can think about is how you used to frequent the place with him, and your eyes find the corner booth you’d used to sit in, your figure usually curled up in Harrison’s lap. You can almost feel the presence of his slender, delicate fingers wrapped around your waist as you gaze longingly at the booth.
And the most frustrating part of it all? Harrison seems fine. He seems completely unbothered, which just serves to twist the knife further into your chest every time your thumb hovers over his contact photo, or you start writing out a lengthy, emotional text. You’ve heard nothing from him, and it makes you question everything you’d thought you’d had together.
Everything changes one Wednesday night, around six weeks after Harrison had left.
You’re woken up by the loud, shrill ringing of your phone. You try to ignore it at first, groaning as you roll over on your side and try to press your head into your pillows, but it just keeps going, and it seems to rattle louder against your skull the longer it prattles on. So, after releasing a stream of your best expletives, you roll over and snatch it off your bedside table, accepting the call before you’ve even had time to check the caller ID.
“Hello?” You croak, clearing your throat immediately as you hear the fatigue hanging heavy in your throat.
“Y/N.”
Suddenly you’re wide awake.
“Harrison?!” You exclaim, sitting bolt upright. You bring your knees to your chest as you pull the duvet around you, trying to hide beneath the warm sheets as if they’ll protect you from the way that hearing his voice unleashes an onslaught of painful emotions. “What’s going on?”
Harrison doesn’t reply for a few moments, but merely the sound of his level, familiar breathing is enough to bring tears to your eyes. You try to push them away as your heart races in your chest, so many emotions flying through your heart that it feels consuming.
“Uh, nothing,” he eventually says softly. “Sorry. It doesn’t matter.”
“Then why did you call me at 2 in the morning?”
The sound of his chuckle is forced, but it’s so lovely to hear him again that you can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Oh, I didn’t realise it was so late,” he says, “‘m sorry, love.”
“It’s okay. I missed your voice.” It slips out before you can really stop it.
“I missed your voice too,” Harrison admits, voice thick. “I miss you so much, Y/N.”
You swallow deeply, running your fingers over the crinkles of your duvet as you think. Your mind runs slowly, clouded with your fatigue and your emotions, and you really don’t know how to take this all, but you know that hearing his voice makes you happy - more happy than you’ve felt in weeks.
“I miss you too,” you mumble down the line. Your fingers ache from how tightly you’re gripping the phone. “How’s LA?”
Harrison chuckles, and you hear a noise in the background as if he’s climbing into a bed. You can almost imagine him: his lanky legs spreading out over the sheets, a low groan slipping past his lips as he stretches out his arms and back. That lazy pink smirk hanging freely from his perfect lips. The image burns into your eyelids.
“LA is mad,” he tells you honestly. “It’s a whole different world over here, Y/N. It’s… It’s exciting, but it’s so different to London. I wish it would all slow down.”
“You’re really busy then?”
He hums lightly. “Yeah. I’m either on-set or doing fittings or rehearsals.”
“Are you having fun?”
Harrison takes a while to ponder your question.
“Yes,” he says, bringing a swell of tears to the front of your eyes. “But I’d be so much happier if you were here too.”
You try to disguise your sniffles, but you’re almost certain he can hear them. “Well… I’m not,” you manage. “I’m glad it’s giving you everything you wanted.”
There’s a very awkward, very thick silence that envelops the line, and it makes you shift uncomfortably in your sheets.
“I should let you sleep,” Harrison says, guilt lacing his words. “I’m sorry for waking you up. I shouldn’t have called you.”
“Oh, okay.” Your free hand clenches into a hard fist as you try to stop your lower lip from wobbling. “Don’t worry about it, Haz. I’m always here if you want someone to talk to.” A small smile flicks out across your lips. “Doesn’t matter what time it is.” I love you - those three unspoken words hang between you. You can feel them, surrounding you, smothering you, and you can almost hear them on the tip of Harrison’s tongue, so you jump in to add, “Goodnight, Harrison,” because you really can’t bear to hear them.
You can feel his reluctance, but you release a deep breath as he says, begrudgingly, “Goodnight, Y/N.”
You hang up quickly, your fingers trembling as you toss the phone down the bed. The blank screen stares at you, taunting you, and you’re overcome with such a strong sense of regret that you almost reach out and call him back. Your body craves him - his soft, melodic voice, his gentle words, his love.
Your phone starts ringing, and you snatch it back up, eyes taking in the image of Harrison’s contact photo as he flashes over the screen. You accept it without a second thought.
“I don’t want to say goodnight yet,” Harrison says immediately, words falling into one another. “I don’t want to stop talking to you, Y/N. Can we please keep talking? Just for a bit.” He pauses, his voice breaking. “I miss you.”
The relieved smile on your face shows no sign of budging. “I don’t wanna say goodnight either, Haz.”
[-----]
It’s a bad habit, but for the entire time Harrison is away, you end up on the phone with him each evening. The first few times had been fairly spontaneous, but soon it becomes a habit: every day, as Harrison finishes filming, he gives you a call and you have a long, rambling conversation. It breaks up your sleep, but you grow so used to it that you start setting an alarm at 1.50am just so you can grab a cup of tea and wake yourself up before he calls.
It’s definitely inadvisable to stay so connected to your ex-boyfriend, but it feels too good to quit. Harrison is your drug, and every time you hang up the phone, you’re left feeling sad and hollow inside. But it eases the pain of having him so far away, and maybe a part of you deludes yourself by reasoning that your calls are helping you get over him: cutting him out completely was too hard, but maybe sharing these phone calls will help you. Eventually he’ll stop calling, and you’ll be able to heal, because you’ll have practised saying goodbye so many times it’ll feel normal.
But Harrison doesn’t stop calling, and you don’t stop answering, and soon enough, he’s been away for six months, and he’s preparing to move back to London, his film complete.
You don’t really know where you stand with him, if you’re being completely honest. He’s still your ex - but you’re still helplessly in love with him, and you’re fairly sure that most exes don’t spend hours on the phone each day, chatting and laughing like you’re still together. You try to bring it up with him, but every time you start the conversation, your heart clenches in your chest and you wimp out.
You ignore the difficult conversation for as long as you can - which lasts until you hear a loud knock on your front door, and you know that it’s him.
It feels almost like a gravitational pull, drawing you back to his figure. You’ve spent all day pacing your flat, fussing over your hair and your outfit, but for the entire time you’ve spent waiting on his flight arriving, you haven’t been sure if you’d be able to open the door and face him. But now you know that he’s here, your heart seems to act of your own accord.
You wrench your door open, and immediately you’re pulled into a tight, crushing hug. It knocks the air out of your lungs and you wheeze as you feel that familiar set of curls brushing up against your neck, and you feel a few tears slip from your eyes as you take it all in. He’s back.
“Haz,” you exclaim, your voice choked with tears. His hands move over your back, clinging to you, drawing you as close as possible as his rich, earthy cologne invades your system. It doesn’t even matter that his jacket has a collection of chilly raindrops clinging to the leather, because it feels so fucking perfect to have him so near you again that you can’t focus on anything other than him.
“I missed you,” he whimpers, as he pulls away from your neck. His large hands fall on your shoulders as he stares at you intently, his focused eyes whipping the air from your lungs. He looks so cute that you can’t really stop yourself from shifting closer and pressing your lips to his. Immediately you relax, and he does too, and he kisses you back softly. Your mouths are tender at first, pressing together softly - testingly - but as you wrap your hands around his waist and bring him closer, it deepens. Your mind spins with dizzy, overwhelming happiness as you revel in the feeling of Harrison, enjoying him utterly, your heart thrumming happily against your ribs.
“I missed you so much,” you mumble against his lips, kissing him between each word. Your fingers drift into his hair, and you smile as he hums in agreement.
“We are so stupid,” he says, drawing a laugh from your lips. “Can’t believe we ever thought breaking up was for the best.” His mouth shifts up to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I love you so much, Y/N. Please, can we get back together?” His words are desperate, but they echo the things you’ve been feeling for months, and hearing them is such a relief that you simply have to kiss him again.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you whisper, moving to rest your forehead on his shoulder. Harrison brings you into a warm hug, and you let him hold you as you breathe him in. “I missed you. I love you.” You tilt your head back, meeting his eyes gleefully. “I’m so glad that you’re back.”
Harrison reaches down and pulls a familiar, glinting chain from his pocket. Your gaze softens as you pull away from him and tilt your head, letting him wrap the necklace back around your neck. The H pendant settles gently over your chest, and it feels like coming home.
“Perfect,” he comments, and you’re not sure if he’s talking about you or the necklace, but you’re willing to accept either.
With a warm smile on your face, you move aside and welcome him inside. “D’you want a cup of tea?” You offer.
Harrison steps across the threshold and presses a final, loving kiss to your lips. “There’s nothing I’d like more.”
----
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roxy206 · 2 years
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Okay I’ve been thinking things over and it’s kinda long but I thought I’d share because I think you’d get it lol. I feel like the universe is constantly pushing them together and they resist it unless it’s a money making work opportunity. Like this past week I’m sure they didn’t see each other because Katya is not working and Trixie is prepping for tour and then of course they run into each other on the street before Trixie flies off to Europe for a month. They probably had no plans to see each other before she left and figured they’d need a break after a month together and they still ran into each other (but of course they didn’t stop to talk).
Now I believe them when they say they don’t hang out because they do so much for work together and they don’t sound like the types to call each other up to go out to dinner or whatever… but they’re constantly at each other’s places for work and that is technically hanging out whether they think of it that way or not. But they say that they don’t… and then in that one waiting unhhhh Trixie kinda complained that Katya never invites her out but there was that pod where Katya invited Trixie to 6 flags but she couldn’t go because she was busy… what I’m saying is that sometimes they seem like they want to spend more time together outside of their jobs but it either doesn’t work out or they always feel the need to create a boundary and maintain a separation between their personal and professional time.
I mean in the last pod Trixie said on the road they wouldn’t see each other during the day to make the show good at night but when they did hang out outside of the show like at the bar in Milwakee or in Austin they seemed to have the most fun? It reminds me of when Trixie said in an interview that Katya’s birthday party was the first social thing they had planned in forever and then just how many times did they talk about it and say how fun it was? Then the only thing Trixie really did for her birthday included Katya.
So what I’m getting at is it seems like they feel they can only allow themselves to socialize when it’s justified in a way but I think they’re kinda denying themselves an even closer relationship out of fear they’ll loose their chemistry or whatever. Multiple times they’ve said they talk on the phone every day but it’s quickly or only about work or because they’re the only people with the same problems but it’s like… you can admit that you’re close and just want to talk to each other? What I’m thinking is maybe they don’t actually want to have to be alone together without a reason? Which makes me wonder… what are they afraid of if they spent time together outside of work? It can’t just be the need to keep the conversations fresh if they clearly have moments where they want more but are resistant. Idk these are my rambles but I feel like they’re constantly on the verge or something more but pull back because they’re afraid they’ll loose it all.
I think they use the whole keeping the conversation fresh thing as a lie they’ve mutually, silently agreed upon. Because that live pod alone, they went out to eat together earlier that day. You would think if they were really concerned, they would have gone out separately
(Also, neither of them remember what they’ve talked about anyway & we get repeat conversations)
But I think it could be a convenient excuse when things are getting a little more emotionally intimate than they intended. They used that excuse when Katya invited Trixie over to the studio because Trixie needed to talk to someone & then they were like oh we were having too much fun, we need to save that
I absolutely agree that the universe keeps trying to push them together. It’s like, how could it be any more clear that your person is right there, but I guess you need more clues
I think that the more time that passes, the more that fear grows. And honestly I think one of the big things is this is all in Trixie’s court at this point
I get the fear. I get holding back because you don’t want to fuck up what you have now, because you don’t want to change things & have there be this possible risk that it doesn’t work out & you lose this insanely important person in your life
I just hope that maybe at some point they’ll realize everything they’re missing out on by playing it safe
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filipinoizukuu · 3 years
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I have the notebook in hand now I beg you for explanation
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HSBFNDSJNFVN my dearest snail oh jeez 😭 i have about maybe dozens of stories about accidentally being y/n, so i'm prayin and hopin none of my IRLs see this. Some details hidden for privacy.
LONG story ahed, so be warned.
-
So. End of winter to early spring about a year before COVID-19. I was still a little snot-nosed high schooler hanging out with my friends and generally being a nuisance upon society. For those of you that have never seen me in real life, the first thing you need to know was that I was adorable, female-presenting, and had the appearance of a goody-two-shoes star student down to a T.
Now, the second thing you need to know is about my friend group and how a majority of them were guys.
I'm not talking about like, darling boy-next-doors and fellow star-student nerds. I'm talking about teenage boys. GUYS guys. Rowdy and wrestling in the hallways, getting into fights, and pulling (harmless) pranks on each other kind of guys. The gross type because I love my friends but even I can admit they're kind of gross.
One day after school, we're hanging out in someone's truck on the way to a get-together. There are about four of us just chilling, me being the only girl. Someone's phone goes off and we look to see one of us pick up his phone.
Now, this friend, let's call him S.
S picks up the phone and starts talking to it. We hear bits and pieces of the conversation and he sounds a little nervous. He puts the phone down and looks at us with a weird expression and says he needs to get home.
"What gives, S?" we ask, slouching in our seats and drinking sweet tea, like all other self-respecting teenage hooligans. "Who was that?"
S explains to us very carefully that he just got off the phone with his auntie and that she wants to have a sit-down and dinner with him. We coo and make fun of him a little and acquiesce, driving on over to his place to drop him off and embarrass him in front of his parents as friends do. We tell him as much when S lights up and looks at us like he just got the world's best idea.
(Heads up! It was not.)
"Guys! I have a better idea."
The rest of us look at each other. "Which is...?"
"What if I pretend to have a girlfriend to impress my Aunt?"
Record scratch. Pause. I suddenly remember that I am the only pretty 'ole lady in this small and stuffy truck. In an instant, all eyes on the vehicle are on me.
No, hell no. I think to myself, there's no way I'm ever going to do this. This is how every fanfic starts and I am absolutely not emotionally available enough to do this. And you know what? That's exactly what I should've said.
Instead, what came out of my mouth was this:
"Buy me a tub of ice cream and I'm all yours."
And thus, the devil's deal was sealed.
Minutes later, we're exiting the truck and looking over at S's white picket fence and perfectly maintained garden. S goes with me and I suck it up, bracing myself for the performance of my lifetime. We do not hold hands and our other friend (E) walks behind us while dying of laughter. S opens the door and we are immediately greeted by the sight of his kind-looking Auntie welcoming him with open arms.
S waltzes in.
"Auntie... this is my girlfriend, Codi."
Now, a quick word about me and how I was in real life at the point of this story. I looked the part of an adorable overachieving student, and while my grades did match up, my attitude sure as hell didn't. I'm naturally a very loud and boisterous person. I 'get into fights' and curse just as well as the rest of them. I had a reputation in a few areas for having the knack of making my underclassmen cry. The point being, I wasn't a saint.
But I was a damn good actor.
"Hi Auntie!" I greet with the peppiest and highest voice I could manage. I skip towards her and shake her hand, smiling like a cracked-up cheerleader in a Coca-Cola ad from the '80s when they made it with actual cocaine. "Your nephew S is just about the sweetest thing ever. He's so nice and smart and I'm incredibly lucky to have him!" I lie through my teeth.
In the background, I can hear E on the verge of deranged cackling while S just stands there and coughs into his fist like an emotionally constipated tuberculosis patient.
My Limit of the Day has been reached, so I shoot Auntie S a quick grin when she enthusiastically thanks me for my services and then haul my ass out their door, E hot on my heels. We leave S behind to deal with whatever shitstorm came after and I tried my best to not look back.
The moment the old truck door slams shut behind us, E abso-fucking-lutely loses it, guts busting with how much he's laughing. We high-tail it to the get-together and I make him swear up and down to not mention it for the rest of the day. It's over, at this point, the thing's been done and there's no other damage than my sanity and maybe S's relationship with his aunt. At least, that is what I thought.
Hours later, S texts me.
hey so um. remember that thing earlier?
Odd question, because how could I not?
yeah so. my aunt stayed for dinner and my parents arrived early and they asked me about school so. long story short... my whole family thinks we're dating.
Predictably, I lose my mind. I ask myself how I got into this situation and then imagine the sweet, sweet ice cream waiting for me at the end of this ride. I'm like, okay! This isn't so bad! It's actually really funny if I think about it enough. At least it's contained, right? I say my famous last words. It's not like I'll ever actually meet his family again.
So I go to bed and decidedly Pass Go, Collect $200 on any fanfics or other friendly drama that night.
The next week, I walk into school. I'm going about my normal business when I bump into my friend group. They pounce on me like a hound of dogs, making rounds of congratulations with varying faces of amusement. "What?" I go, like an oblivious idiot.
From like 15 feet down the hall, a familiar figure turns the corner and I lock eyes with him. Something clicks into place and I realize that there were actual witnesses to S's convoluted brownie-points shenanigan that I didn't consider.
"E," I say. "you are so fucking dead."
My friend group, who E had apparently told about my whole schtick as S's Rent-a-Girlfriend, breaks out into laughter and dodges as I power-walked my way to kick E's shins with the fury of a thousand 5'3 suns.
We went about the rest of our day until it hit lunch break, and of course who else to apparently wait for me in front of my class other than S himself.
S grabs me by the wrist and pulls me along throughout the campus. We're lightly conversing the whole time, me weaseling a time and date to my beloved reward tubs of ice cream as promised. Without me realizing it, we end up in front of two very familiar rooms.
Another thing, really quickly, about this whole storyline. S was not just an ordinary friend, you see. He was special, in a way, in such that his two closest friends were my crush (at the time) and his best friend who I'd recently rejected. Now those two have a whole 'nother story on their own which I'd deign to discuss publically, so you'll have to settle for those apt descriptions.
So, those two aforementioned mutual friends of ours walk out of those rooms and turn to make eye contact with us. They laugh, good-naturedly, and I sigh in relief because it seems that of all people, E had not gotten the hot gossip to them just yet.
I beckon the two of them over, being none the wiser and thinking we could take our break together when the final straw hits
S throws his arm over my shoulders and pulls me closer.
"Hey guys, Codi's my girlfriend now!"
... You can guess where the argument fits now in this timeline.
(I got my ice cream very shortly after. We're all friends now and it's all water under the bridge! This was a long story so if you've made it this far, just know that this is all but a funny memory to look back on for me and I've since moved on.)
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im-thinking-arson · 3 years
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Hi wow depression is a hell of a thing.
I'm sorry for the relative silence here, considering everything that has been going on in the last (roughly) year and a half it has been really hard to focus on any creative outlets. Everything has felt pretty heavy as I have been piecing together what exactly happened to myself and the people I used to share a community with.
Although my former FC is basically non-existent at this point, I feel it is appropriate to say that I no longer associate with its' leader @morganaux (sernoudenet on Twitter and formerly here) and to clarify why.
I have been struggling with what to even say about the situation. There are so many layers that I don't honestly know if any single cross-section could explain all there is to unpack. When it takes multiple people six months to explore everything they know as fact... I think that shows its not so much of a 'he said, they said' scenario as the few people who still support Morgy have tried to claim.
I feel guilty not speaking up sooner, considering this person is a member of the FFXIV community who I'm fairly sure some of my mutuals follow. Its so hard to speak out when he publicly acts innocent, like he has quietly moved on and refuses to acknowledge what he's done.
The reality feels so cold in contrast, with the knowledge I have- that he has done this multiple times before, burning down or wearing down those he has hurt with false sincerity; claiming innocence, claiming people misunderstand the significance of the intentions behind the knives in their backs, claiming he is the truest victim of the mess wrought of his own actions.
He quietly retweets fan art, cute animals, head canons, and all kinds of fandom things- but also others' tweets to identify with their own traumas- the same traumatic thoughts and feelings he incites in others through a mixture of gaslighting, lashing out, and playing the victim. He tweets passive aggressively about people he feels the victim of, (justified or not) even amid posts about his dearly beloved OC.
At this point I should just block him and try to scrape all memory of what I went through from my mind, but un-fucking-fortunately I know him too well to believe it's over when it's over. He still makes passive aggressive tweets about people he hasn't talked to in one, two, ?? years, a person who was a good friend to him for 10 years before he scapegoated them to maintain his own sense of righteousness.
Seeing as I witnessed him maintain not one, not two, not three- FOUR venting channels in his own discord, including at one point one specifically made for sh*tting on a single person, defending it's use and encouraging others to participate saying 'this is how victims cope'...
I know it's not over, and if he had a single shred of...anything... He could leverage against me he would have already tried to 'cancel' me. I'm not turning my back again to see if he decides to throw another knife.
For a long time I wanted to believe I had simply misunderstood the situation, that his intentions weren't so self-serving. The more I saw, the more I heard testimony from others that matched my own, the more I began to un-repress and process my own memories and connect the dots... And the less sense his own account made.
While I tried to maintain my friendship with him I ignored all the red flags, my own rise in anxiety, the isolation I felt. I felt so much pressure to fit into his equation, to be a supportive friend, to keep track of how he was feeling that I stopped taking care of my own mental health.
All the while he got angry for people not checking on him when he asked for space, threw a fit when anyone failed to accommodate his whims, and even accused his three closest friends of purposefully excluding him by taking screenshots without him in them or even hanging out together when he was offline..
And he would have people believe that most of the issues he was involved in centered on his friends not communicating with him. But in my case at least, nothing could be further from the truth.
I told him I felt uncomfortable with the fact his (at the time) friend had publicly lashed out at me in his discord server for stating my opinion. He suggested I work harder to befriend this person, that he couldn't and wouldn't approach his friend about it because he wasn't a FC member and only there as a friend of himself and his two closest friends.
He lashed out at a former friend (and FC mate) of mine -on my behalf- because they wouldn't stop messaging me while I was at work... And when this person subsequently put me on blast thinking I had put him up to it I mentioned considering posting my side of the story- to initially be shamed (by the person mentioned above) for suggesting I protect myself, stating it could make things worse for the people who had already publicly attacked this person...
I approached him about another former friend of his angrily ranting about a character I had though at the time they knew I was planning to RP (I had spoken about it both in-game and in a discord we all shared) because I didn't know them well enough to feel comfortable saying that made me feel uncomfortable and unwelcome in the space. I approached my former friend because I knew from experience he took things like this seriously and he was the one who had invited this character TO role play in the first place.
He reacted by telling this person he had no idea why I was upset, asked them to address an issue they had no context for - prompting them to write an apology, and then reinforced their worry that I hated them by saying I "probably disliked them since [I] hadn't written them an apology" in return. I had thought they both wanted to drop the subject because he stopped responding about the situation.
He decided the situation was resolved and kept inviting us around one another for at least four months while keeping up the illusion that I disliked this person despite me trying to remain friendly- and said nothing about the situation until AFTER he had nuked his FC and almost everyone was done with his bullshit. I had asked him to be honest about the situation and finally got "[name] thinks you dislike him" ???
(I might add more details about these situations because it's honestly much more of a mess than it might seem, but I'd probably have to write a fucking book to explain everything well in-sequence of events.)
But those examples aside, I told him up front that the favoritism he showed and my concerns being glossed over was messing with my head, that I didn't know if I felt safe in his FC, that the whole situation was making me feel like I was losing my grip on reality, that at one point feeling like I was being discouraged from defending myself was beginning to make me feel su*cidal. These are things he knew.
He reacted to this ignoring both cause and effect, ignoring me unless I reached out first or it concerned RP, continually inviting me to hang out with people he knew I felt uncomfortable with (or vice versa) and normally turning down anything I invited him to do otherwise- including several times that I offered to help him with Eden or dungeons he wanted to farm when he previously said he was free to do so. A couple of times he declined saying he was waiting to see if he could convince another friend... and then threw a fit about 'no one wanting to help him' despite declining my offer and not reaching out to me after his other friend declined (I was still online but he decided to vent on discord instead).
Behind my back he talked shit about me, enough that someone who had known him 10 years and was familiar with his behavioral patterns qualified it 'constant' bashing, whenever I came up in conversation. And even included confronting me about the three situations I mentioned above in a plan he was working on to 'fix' his FC, as if he thought I was reaching out to him to stir up drama.
Eventually it came out that the friend I mentioned in the first example was emotionally abusing his friends (and I found out later told him two of them were talking shit about him- prompting HIM to lash out at them). One of them mentioned that person had still been talking shit about me 6 months later on a private account and when I got upset that THREE people I had thought were my friends didn't tell me, I made a few jokes in poor taste (that I do now regret) about the situation to try and prevent myself from having a mental break down.
The person he led to believe I hated left the discord server at that point and he decided to divert some of the blame for (in his words) 'being worried for this person's life' -whom he had attacked over the situation- to me... blaming them leaving and him having trouble contacting them on me.
I told him if this former friend was indeed attacking people and he was so worried we needed to talk about the situation, since in other situations his response was to ignore the hurt caused. He blew up about me messaging him at work, he blamed me for every situation I had brought to his attention. He went to his mods to rant about me and sent one of them to scope out the situation in hopes they could shut me up.
This is the friend of 10 years, who quickly became concerned and not for the reasons he had hoped. They shared a few screenshots of things said to gaslight me behind my back as the conversation progressed. Eventually the other mod jumped in and, knowingly or not proceeded to gaslight me FOR him, based on what they were told. By him.
They reinforced everything he was saying in guise of a neutral perspective and my efforts to prevent a full-scale breakdown failed. I lost all grip on reality for several days- in which at some point I wrote an apology to him for accusing him of several things that were later proven true- and one thing he, himself, proved he'd lied about to the other person involved.
I spent almost two weeks in a self-imposed social break to sort everything out and attempt to cope with what I was told was reality. I fell into the deepest depression I've been in since I had to run away from home, and honestly if it wasn't for my wonderful SO and our house mates, I might have really hurt myself.
It turns out another situation had been brewing parallel to my own. People had been coming to the social mod, the friend of 10 years, with their own worries about him. Almost every. Single. Member. Including at least four people who came forward with fears that if they did a single thing that he interpreted as an insult or threat they would find themselves exiled, called out, and ranted about in a jumbled mix of truth and fictional-malice until their own friends turned on them to support his victim complex.
These four people came forward on the condition that their names be kept anonymous to protect their identity. He didn't take kindly to this, quickly demanding names so they (his mod team) could handle the situation. The mod refused, knowing he has a history of lashing out at any criticism against him and to protect those who were already afraid of bringing the problems up to Morgy.
He reacted by lashing out at this person, claiming they ruined his life, and attempting to weed out those who had spoken out against him by kicking anyone he didn't feel 'safe' being around from his FC. He posted a message in his FC discord about resuming his 'reign of terror'... Which, even if it was a joke, was in in poor taste after pruning his FC of anyone he didn't think could be convinced of his 'good intentions.'
I missed this first culling of his FC members, I assume, because I had apologized and at the time submitted to his version of events. He approached me soon after I noticed the changes in the discord and FC roster; claiming he really wanted to work things out and remain friends- going as far as to say he was so nervous about my reaction that he was shaking.
I wanted to take him at face value despite everything that happened because yeah, I did want to believe he was sincere, that he was a good friend, and that all of it had been an unfortunate misunderstanding. And at first I did until I started talking to other people who knew him and getting their side of the story. Nothing he said added up. Between first-hand testimony and over a hundred screenshots from multiple people the ONLY things that were clear and consistent were that he lied and fit his narrative to whatever he wanted to achieve.
He tried to reduce conflict by omitting information, he controlled people's perception of one another by how he spoke about them and how close he let them to himself and others, he built a support group by polarizing his friends against his 'enemies' and if anyone had a problem with him... They were wrong, and got added to the pile of 'aggressors' he had accumulated over the years, to be bashed and spit on for years to come.
He may have sensed my change in opinion when I directly asked him to help me reach out to the person who thought I disliked them-  managed to come to an understanding and we mutually apologized for the situation... Without his meddling. Or maybe when he realized I was still on talking terms with the people he had lashed out at and directly asked him why he had kicked people who did absolutely nothing to him... Or it could be that I kept in contact with the person who 'ruined his life' by trying to protect his friends from him. I don't know.
While we were still talking he tried to identify with me and bond over the feeling of loosing the FC, a group of people that despite the anxiety, and pain I had felt in the environment he'd built I did deeply respect and care about... Despite the dissolution of that group and the abuse I suffered being -at the core- his own fault. He even went as far as to say my description of the PTSD and fear I was experiencing described exactly how he was feeling, too.
As our conversations further weighed on my mental health I had to take a break from interacting with him. I was honest again, with what I was told, what I knew, and asked him for honesty about the situation... What he had said about me behind my back and why because I wanted to hear it from him. I wanted to see if he would acknowledge the harm he caused both to me and the rest of the (former) FC.
He never did, and probably won't. He asked for some time to tend to his own stress levels and mental health and then blocked me on all social media and discord, and kicked me from his FC without ever making an effort to reach out.
Of the few people who are still close to him, one of them suggested that "maybe he just decided he didn't want to be friends anymore." But after him begging to have a conversation to iron out all the facts, claiming to be so anxious about such a conversation going well that he was 'shaking', admitting that what he did hurt people and that my being wary of him was understandable, asking me -directly- to let him know if he did anything 'shady', and stressing he REALLY wanted this conversation to take place when we were both able to handle it because of how important he felt it was...
I feel like its fair to say that him suddenly cutting off all contact isn't quite so simple. He could have done that at any point. Before pointedly ignoring my concerns, before gaslighting me, before blaming me for the results of his own actions, before accepting an apology for accusing him of things he did legitimately do, and certainly before directly telling me had no real problems with me, that he it was super important to him that we remain friends, and that I deserved his honesty.
I'm not going to try and tell anyone who they should be friends with or not. Frankly, people can change and in a lot of cases experiences with individuals will be different.
But on that same note, if I had known then what I know now I might have saved myself from roughly two years of anxiety and avoided the state of dissonance I now find myself in. I still have moments where I want to doubt the things I experienced first hand. My mind is still trying to repress my own memories to cope.
A part of me still cares about him despite everything because as far as I knew, he was my friend and I am still trying to reconcile what I found to be true.
At this point I feel like I should say please don't harass Morgy if you read this, but honestly? If you have any reason to hold him accountable go for it. He needs it. And if you have any gut feelings about him or anyone in his circle please listen to it. The few supporters he still has are willing to ignore anything he has done previous to the fall of his FC and have shown they are willing to debate and accuse people who speak out about legitimate concerns involving him.
If anyone has any questions I am willing to answer them and share the proof I have.
And in the off chance anyone wants to (further) argue with me about my experiences or whether or not I suffered enough to be considered a victim, please Google some images of a hand giving the middle finger. But if after that you still really want to play stupid games? I can find you some stupid prizes.
I don't owe him my silence. Or peace of mind. The only thing I owe him is to be as entirely, brutally, honest as possible given the information I have. I think it's a fair offer considering the mind-numbing volume of honesty he -still- owes all of us.
- - - - -
I may add more onto this. Unfortunately the entire situation is a lot more complex, but I wanted to get the backbone of my own experiences out there and there is so much bullshit it can't all be seen from any one direction. A lot of the circumstantial evidence loops back into other situations and makes it hard to comprehensively represent everything on any sort of singular timeline. As I said in the beginning there is a reason it took a small group 6 months to piece it together.
I am far from the only person hurt, and the entire situation was a mess with people feeling unnerved or pressured into going along with his agenda. For the most part now that I have more context I don't blame most of the people involved for their own actions. I fully support those who can't or won't come forward about the situation whether they just want out of his drama, or are afraid to come forward.
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seijurosempress · 3 years
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@shoichee​ I hope this meets your expectations✨ (Bc I refuse to tolerate any more bullying today. Also- Matchup under the cut)
First, I just want to say- I’m sorry. (but not really). I know our love for Hayama runs deep but the moment you choose violence with him, that’s it for you. RIP. It was nice knowing you 😔 But, remember when we first spoke and I asked you if you shipped yourself with Imayoshi and you refused to answer my question? Well- [Insert ‘Surprise shawty’ tik tok audio]
Best Match: Imayoshi Shoichi
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Your subconscious knew what it was doing when you picked out your URL. The moment you said you related to Dazai and then proceeded to talk about socioeconomic issues revolving around globalization while we simultaneously talked about dumb stuff I knew there were only a few guys that could handle your energy and Imayoshi hands down tops that list
Even though Hanamiya out of all people might say Imayoshi doesn’t have the best personality, I actually think you two can balance each other out and understand each other in a way other people may not be able to
Honestly, right off the bat, y’all will probably bond over some form of teasing. Whether it’s making some remark aimed directly at the other, or one of you takes a jab at someone else and the other happens to overhear, it will be the start of a beautiful relationship
Gemini and Leo’s have really good chemistry so it’s no surprise you’ll manage to get along, regardless of your- argumentative natures.
You two are like the two sides of the same coin. While he presents himself as a kind and easy going person, speaking politely to others- until he inevitable shows them his real personality- you, on the other hand, can come off a little cold and critical, scaring people off when you first meet them even though you’re genuinely kind and easy going once you start to talk to them
If you guys meet purely by chance, maybe you’re in the same class, you’re introduced because of a mutual friend, or because one of you overheard the other, the moment you hear how the other carries themselves in a conversation will automatically peek your interest. 
Have you ever seen that meme where they’re like “oh you wanna kiss me so bad”? yea, that’s you two. I can see you getting into the most amusing squabble, just trying to throw the other one off, Imayoshi smirking if and when one of his comments goes right over your head
You’re both pretty smart (I spent a solid hour trying to double check this and still failed but I’m like 80% sure his IQ is pretty up there) so I can see you two meeting because of that too
Scenario: 
Imayoshi is just minding his business, checking the updated class rankings posted in the hall across your classroom. Why? He doesn’t know, if he’s being honest. It’s not like anyone could ever surpass him, he’s been at the top of his class each time since his firs- What’s this? He got bumped down? Who the hell are you? Wait no, he knows who you are. He’s heard your name before countless times, mostly followed by your voice as it traveled throughout the hallways, your laugh bubbling out of your small frame soon after in reply to whichever friend had just made a funny remark. Funny. You didn’t seem all that smart at first glance, could he have actually... made a mistake? His gaze flickers to the other side of the hall where he immediately found you, eyes wide and a small smile adorning your features as you listened to your classmate speak. A low hum escapes him as he analyzes your appearance once more. He notices the way your makeup highlighted your already attractive features, the small accessories added to your uniform making you look put together and stylish. Maybe he had underestimated you, he though as he saw you take your turn to speak, your answer leaving your classmate open mouthed with a baffled expression. He felt the slight tug on his lips, the beginning of a small smirk forming on his face as you smiled widely at the response you had gotten.  However, the amusement only lasted a split second, his features falling in disbelief when you turned around, tripping over your own feet and falling face first into the open classroom door. “What are you staring at?” Someone, probably Sato, asks as he strolls up beside him. “Nothing” he sighs, adjusting his glasses on his face. Is it really nothing though? a small voice inside him asks just as a series of curse words and noises fall from your lips, eliciting his own to quirk up into an amused, lopsided smile. Even if it is “nothing” for now, don’t be surprised when both of you “coincidentally” find yourselves bumping into each other more often from now on as he tries to figure you out.
I can see him realizing he has feelings for you while you two are hanging out. Maybe you two will be studying after you asked him to tutor you in math since it’s his best subject, or well, attempting to study at least as you’re nearing half an hour of your 5 minute snack break. He’ll probably be doodling in his notebook while you scroll through Instagram, and it’s not until he looks up to see you so focused on whatever was on the other side of the screen, your fingers quickly tapping away as a smile pulled at your lips that he asks what you’re doing. Without a second thought, you absentmindedly tell him about whatever argument you’re getting into in the comments section under a random photo you came across before you’re back to focusing on the matter at hand. 
His whole trademark is that he’s good at analyzing people, and as a Gemini, he is not an exception to his own skills. He’ll suddenly come to the realization that, while he enjoys pushing people’s buttons, he enjoys the thought of you two being a team even more. While you can be loud and social, making and laughing at jokes, you also know when to get serious and get stuff done, something that that he would appreciate considering he likes respectful and considerate girls.
The problem now is- he may be aware of his feelings...but are you?
He’ll probably try out multiple ways to hint at his feelings towards you but they’ll just go right over your head. In your mind, you can’t see anyone having any romantic feelings towards you and sure he may be acting a little weird, but you’d probably just shrug it off as it being all in your imagination.
Meanwhile the whole time Imayoshi is just standing there like- Is she serious? No one can be this oblivious???? but yet  ✨here you are✨
Now it’s his turn to be frustrated by your conversations because you’re just not getting it? So he decides to try something more straight forward. Girls like pickup lines, right?
He could literally see the moment your brain stopped working. Your face flushed red as a nervous giggle bubbled out of you. All common sense left your body as you made finger guns at him, giving him a slight nod before turning around and walking quickly out the room
it would take you a few minutes to collect yourself, strolling back in the room 30 minutes later, leaning against the same spot you left him moments prior and giving him a pickup line of your own. *queue Imayoshi’s mischievous smirk* “Oh? Is that so?” (he’s such a little shit he’ll probably pretend like he didn’t say anything first to get back at you)
I can see this going back and forth for a while until he finally asks you out on a date, but this time he’ll make sure to do it in a way that will prevent you from escaping and leaving him alone and confused again
Your PDA is most likely kept to a minimum, partly because of your Venus in Virgo and partly because he doesn’t like spontaneity. Your outward relationship will consist of hand holding and pecks but that doesn’t mean your private life remains the same, just because you’re dating now doesn’t mean you’re suddenly immune to his habits or him to yours
You say you want to spend some quality time together? “How about a movie night?” he asks, his smile deceiving you long enough to trap you in his arms as a scary movie plays in his blacked out bedroom. “I don’t like scary movies” you whine, your body pressing into his and a pout pulling at your lips as he “innocently” chuckles, “Oh really? I must have forgotten”
You say you’re a bit cynical about relationships but I think it’s because your Neptune, Pluto and Lilith are ruled by air signs. This means you enjoy spontaneity and creativity in what you do and therefore always gravitate to doing things in which your outcome depends on yourself and not other people. Imayoshi is the kind of person that respects other people’s needs as we can see when he allows Aomine to skip practice if that’s what works for him. This will help you maintain a healthy balance in your relationship, allowing you to be able to feel more at ease and not trapped or like you have to be a certain way with one another
You decide to keep pursuing dancing? He’s proud of you, and will not hesitate to show off and boast about your achievements to the rest of the team
You had a rough week and you want to spend the whole day gaming with headphones on? It’s fine he’ll take the opportunity to relax and go fishing
On the other hand, you want to go shopping? Suddenly he’ll find himself walking hand in hand with you as you and his sister stop at every single store only to leave with more bags that you can carry. 
At first, you would insist you could both take care of yourselves at the mall, but he soon found out that you two should not be left alone. She might be his sister but she’s younger and impressionable and she looks up to you? And you can be a bit scatterbrained so you lose track of her time so you always end up bringing her back really late, along with an armful of shopping bags that he’ll only have to go back and return within the week because being hasty runs in his family and his sister didn’t pay much attention to how much money she was spending
Overall- I think that what really makes you a good match is your ability to communicate with one another. Both of you are pretty honest and straightforward (although your executions are vastly different) which will help you navigate through any obstacles in your relationship
You keep each other on your toes and bring fun into your relationship while also settling down, talking about serious stuff and getting genuine advice from one another when you need it the most. The balance you maintain allowing a stable foundation for the relationship to grow and blossom. He did something hasty? It’s okay, you know exactly what to do to fix it. Someone keeps hitting on you insistently? He’s already walked over to intimidate him to go away. You want to spend quality time together but he wants to go fishing? There you are by his side, scribbling in your notebook and reciting your poetry to him as he listens carefully with a small smile on his face that you’ll definitely not tease him about later. You need help with your math again? he’ll tutor you in exchange for you making him a bento with his favorite meal. Until he learns that you somehow burned half the rice and left the other half uncooked. Perfect balance of give and take. 
Bonus: Takao Kazunari
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You are literally the girl version of Takao omg. (I literally JUST got your message about being the new Takao too smh I know I’m slow but let me finish this first)
You two are so alike and you would make the most chaotic duo but as much as I want to ship you two, I can just see you two being really good friends so I feel the need to include him in this
Midorima would be so done with your shit, he’d probably see you two together and immediately turn around and start walking the other way because he just KNOWS you’re bound to gang up and bully him
The first time you saw is lucky item you probably burst out laughing and thought he was joking until you saw his face flush red
After that, every time you ask about it he just grumbles out his answer, still salty about your initial reaction
Takao never fails to remind you either, trying to hold back his laugh whenever you try to make it up to Midorima but he ends up ignoring you, or you somehow just manage to make it worse
When it’s just you and Takao, you could be minding your business when suddenly one of you makes ONE singular little comment and that just sets off the other, adding onto it until both of you are crying with laughter
Honestly, the only time I can see you taking one another seriously is when you’re having discourse
He’s an optimistic person while you’re a realist which can set off some very interesting discussions between the two of you, your argumentative nature leading both of you to talk about anything and everything as you challenge the other’s ideologies
If you decide to try out a relationship, it’ll be filled with excitement and adrenaline, both of you needing very little persuasion to try out new things
You’ll be his partner in crime and he’ll be yours. You want to mess a bit with your younger neighbors? Why not? You want to go check out the new mall a few town’s over because they have a store you’ve been wanting to check out for months? He’s your man.
While the relationship is fun, you both can get a little ahead of yourselves, going with the flow and getting sucked into your own world; you’ll need someone to ground you
Usually, this role can be plaid by Midorima but it proves to be a bit problematic when he’s nowhere in sight
The amount of times you two have lost track of time or gotten caught up in something because you ran into some friends or even met new people and got lost in conversation, by this point Midorima has probably given up trying to keep track of your whereabouts when you’re together
I wouldn’t be surprised if you two ended up making your own language. He’s good with kids and bad at being quiet while you enjoy making new words and trying out sound effects which he would without a doubt find amusing. You’d probably go as far as to make children believe they’re actual words, could you imagine Midorima’s face when he goes over to Takao’s house and his younger sister starts talking to him in the made up words you taught her
Ultimately while your personalities are very alike, you tend to clash at the wrong points and it would take you working together to compromise to make a romantic relationship work
Both of you surround yourself by others, often finding yourself in the middle of everything, your personality constantly making other people gravitate towards you. This can prove conflicting when you’re together as now you’d have to learn how to share the spotlight, so to say
While you love fashion and makeup and shopping, the poor man just wants to enjoy his trading cards
Although you should use it to your advantage and make him drive you around in Princess Mia’s Midorima’s carriage.
Your might also find yourself more often than not at a crossroads, your realist point of view conflicting with his positivity which can lead to arguments between you two
Overall- a relationship with you would be exciting. There would never be a dull moment and you’d constantly encourage the other to have new experiences and make the most of your time. But moving into a more romantic territory would mean that you’d have to learn how to prioritize things in your life, knowing when to buckle down and get things down and how to successfully come to terms with and work out your differences. 
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Sidenote: I meant to make these a little longer but my brain cell only has so much KNB knowledge stored in her small little filing cabinet that may or may not be a single folder covered in dust and stuffed in some corner
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strangest-loser · 4 years
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Twilight Rewrite
Fire in my Blood ~ Jasper Hale x OC ~ Book One - Chapter One
Masterlist
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
I had never given much thought as to how I would die, I expected it could be for some stupid accident or some kind of murder or something, I had hoped I would live to 102 and pass away in my sleep peacefully and without struggle, but if you told me I would die the week before my 18th birthday because I was being hunted by monsters that belong only in storybooks, I would have called you insane.
Forks, Washington was one of the coldest, rainiest places in all of the world as Alessia knew it, but she loved it. It was her home and it was where her friends and father were. After her parent’s messy divorce her mother Renée moved south with Alessia’s little sister Isabella to Phoenix, Arizona while she stayed with her father Charlie. Alessia adored her father and spent her childhood years following him around like a puppy (to the point where family friend Billy Black had nicknamed her “The little shadow”). She had a happy childhood with her friends Jacob and his pack of boys down at the reserve and it was often that her father had to come wrangle her out of some form of trouble that she had no doubt instigated.
Alessia’s favorite time of year, however, was when her baby sister came to visit them for the summer holidays. Alessia would spend two weeks getting a sunburn in Arizona sitting in front of a tv while her mother bought them little cakes and treats from some bakery for desert every night and she never failed to stick herself with a cactus needle at least once every trip. And as soon as those two weeks were up the summer dresses and shorts were traded for sturdy boots and rain jackets as Alessia dragged Bella through the forest surrounding their home for the next month, expertly weaving through the trees to get to the fort she had built with her father out of branches and slats of wood.
Getting older was what separated the sisters, who as children were thick as thieves. Bella grew to resent the time spent in the rain and cold and longed to spend more time in Phoenix with their mom and her friends, and while Alessia was still extended the invitation to stay with her mother and sister every year she couldn’t help but begin to pull away from that part of her life, the closer she grew with her father the more she began to feel like a stranger with her mother. Funny stories about her and her father’s antics that were mentioned at the dinner table caused her mother to stiffen and made the air uncomfortable, and the longer that Alessia spent in Arizona the more desperately homesick she grew for Forks. It was mutually decided, however, that Alessia would not come to Phoenix as often when her mother got a new boyfriend. Phil was nice and all, but she did not feel the same sense of comfort around her mother and sister, and her status as a stranger was reinforced to a degree that by the age of 13 Alessia stopped going altogether.
But she was happy, anyone who met her could see that. She enjoyed watching football with her father, Billy, and Jacob. She loved having bonfires on the beach with her boys and sharing scary stories only to spend the evening hiding from each other and scaring each other. She was silly and goofy but she was serious where it mattered, like letting her friend Leah run with her pack of boys on the threat that she would ignore them until they stopped being mean and let her play. She was kind and loving, meeting her friend Jessica in middle school and being her number one supporter, punching anyone who dared make fun of her insecure friend because she was so intelligent.
As she grew up Alessia grew extremely beautiful, but not in a conventional way, she didn’t remind people of the models in all of the magazines that Jessica would show her. She was beautiful in the way the woods were at sunset with the light shooting through the trees. She was strong and smart and pretty and caring, but she was also loud, opinionated, funny, sassy and quite honestly, she was wild. She had inherited her father’s brown hair and brown eyes, but there was something so uniquely ‘Alessia’ about her appearance.
Her freshman year of high school went much smoother than the movies would have you believe for Alessia. Her grades were good, and they were well maintained by letting Jessica tutor her because “Being a tutor would make me look good on my college applications Alessia!”. And while Forks football team didn’t enter many leagues (and lost all the ones that they did enter) Alessia managed to convince the faculty to let the girls who didn’t want to be on the volleyball team organize their own cheer squad for both teams, her argument being that if there were people cheering the teams on they might actually start winning.
Sophomore year was infinitely more interesting with the addition of five more students to their tiny school.  The Cullen’s were extremely interesting additions to Alessia’s life. In her own year, the three elder students joined her classes, Emmet Cullen who was funny and nice was her partner for English class its it was a wonder they got anything done at all with their running jokes about Mr. Mason and their literary texts as a whole. Emmet’s girlfriend was Rosalie Hale who was extremely beautiful but smart as a whip, she was strangely cold towards Alessia at the beginning of the year but eventually began to warm up to her at the request of Emmet (“she really isn’t all that bad Rose”) and with two new friends in her classes Alessia couldn’t be happier. It was the third sibling who was in her history class that threw her for a loop.
Jasper Hale was Rosalie’s twin brother and he was the only one of the group of five who wasn’t very fond of Alessia, the other two, Alice and Edward were in the year below them and they were always welcoming towards Alessia, especially Alice who greeted her every morning with a friendly hug before launching into some random topic of conversation.  But Jasper seemed to avoid her like the plague which did bother Alessia at first being that she wasn’t very used to people not liking her (her friendly demeanor often meant that people found her friendly and likeable), but after a while she grew used to it, accepting that maybe he just didn’t like her, and that was ok.
The strangest thing about the whole scenario was that while Alessia thought herself to be friends with the Cullens, it seemed that she was the only one, because according to Jessica Alessia was the only one they would entertain the thought of speaking to, let alone hang out with.
The next year is the year that everything changed, for one she began to evenly split her time between the Cullens and her other friend group consisting of Jessica, Angela, Eric, Mike, and Tyler. She would spend lunches with the Cullens and she would hang out with the others every evening after school, she spent weekends on the reserve with Jacob and Leah and the guys and her nights were spent watching sports and playing board games with her father. She was content with how her Junior year was going until March rolled around and the cold wind swept her sister back into her life and caused the hurricane that completely rearranged her world.
      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Early morning was officially the worst time to be alive, the cold crept through all three blankets on the bed and the hoodie that Alessia was sleeping in that night, and while the cold was never normally something that Alessia minded, 6:30 am was not the ideal time to face it. After taking a shower that seemed way too short and wrestling with her printer to get her Spanish homework for the day ahead she emerged from her room in her usual winter cheer uniform in its navy and gold colours with leggings, trainers and a yellow cardigan over top because Forks in March didn’t mess around and Alessia knew her classrooms would be freezing. Before making her way down to the kitchen she let her eyes linger to the door opposing hers, a door to a room that she had spent the last week clearing out and organizing. It was weird that Bella was coming after all this time, Alessia missed her sister but they had been apart for so long that it was like they were strangers at this point. A car horn is what brought her out of her daze as she rushed down the stairs grabbing her keys, wallet and an apple for some form of breakfast (Alessia wasn’t a breakfast person because eating food so early in the morning made her feel sick, but she knew it would stress Charlie out if she didn’t eat something) before disappearing out the door of her empty house. Her dad’s cruiser wasn’t parked in the driveway which was expected, he always left earlier than Alessia did, what was there instead was a pristine red Mercedes at the end of the driveway with the lights on and inside it sat Rosalie and Alice waiting for her. Alessia’s voice broke through the morning fog as she jogged towards the car, “you know, I should hate you for making me drive to school in a convertible in this weather” the smile that spread across Rosalie’s face matched the one on Alessia’s own as she replied, “yeah well you don’t so get in before I make you walk”.
According to Jessica arriving to school with the Cullens still managed to cause people to stare at Alessia, which she never noticed as she had been doing it for over a year now while trying to save up for a new car, that was a fact she didn’t dare share with any of her friends since when her phone decided to explode one day and stop working she told Alice that she needed a new one and the very next day Rosalie handed her an iPhone that there was no way she could afford, she still had it and took more care of that thing than she did to her own life. No way that was ever happening again. Hopping out of the side of the car after it pulled into its usual spot, she grabbed her backpack and pulled out the notes she needed to give back to Emmet from English the night before. “one of these days I wont be around to save your life you know” he spoke out with his usual mischievous look on his face, “yeah, yeah” she bounced back as she made her way across the parking lot to Tyler’s van where everyone else sat. She was immediately bombarded with everyone asking her if she was coming to the movies that evening. “sorry to disappoint but I have to go to the airport, my sister gets here today” the collective groan at her absence make her laugh as she told them not to be such babies and that she would see them with Bella the next morning, “I don’t want any of you numbskulls giving her any shit tomorrow you hear me?” she said pointing her accusing finger at the three guys in front of her, all of whom faked offence at even the notion. Their goofing off continued until the first period bell rang and Jessica and the others being a grade below her headed off to their homeroom as she headed towards APUSH.
Alessia adored history and she was highest in her class apart from Jasper. Not that she minded (she definitely minded), her teacher Mr Finch was one of her favorite people. He was a kind man in his 40s who had a genuine passion for teaching. Her seat in the back, left corner of the room was right next to the rooms only radiator which was busted but the corner gave her enough cover to be left out of sight by the teacher, she wasn’t in the mood to pay too much attention that morning considering she didn’t grab a coffee before she left the house.
The chatter of her fellow classmates played like white noise as Alessia pulled the top of her chocolate coloured hair into a hair tie and began pulling her homework out of her backpack before giving up and laying her head on the desk in front of her and groaning softly. Her early morning seemed to finally catch up with her, so much so that she did not notice the figure take up the desk beside hers until she heard him speak.
“well, don’t you just look chipper this morning” a southern voice broke through her sleepy haze and caused her mind to stop working for a second. The fact that Jasper was willing speaking to her was definitely new but Alessia was many things and a smartass was one of them. “yeah? well you know your day is off to a great start when you wake up and your first thought is, ‘no’.” she fired back at him raising her head to send a lazy smile his way. The chuckle that left him would have probably made Alessia’s knees weak if she were awake enough to comprehend it “yeah, I know the feeling”.
A smirk broke out on the 18-year old's face as her spine straightened and she looked him dead in his topaz coloured eyes. “did you just… agree with me?” Jasper immediately turned away to face the front of the room, still without a teacher, “oh I wish I could take- “, “nope! You said it! no take-backs!”.
The exasperated look that met her then forced a giggle out of her as she stuck her tongue out at him. “What? I was a very irritating child”, this was met with another chuckle but before he could give another reply Mr Finch’s voice called out as he finally entered the room and commanded all their eyes to the front of the room once more. Alessia let an uncontrollable smile grace her lips as her mind processed what just happened.
Maybe he didn’t completely despise her after all.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
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manic hours opened yesterday and @just-another-trans-twink and I went on a 24-hour zukka lockdown. this was the result!
essentially: more sokka and azula content is absolutely necessary in this fandom, so here are five times sokka and azula collaborated for the better, and one time it was definitely for the worse
Read on AO3 above!
1. the gaang threatens murder
Sokka hadn’t felt this anxious in nearly six years – since the end of the war. Well, not counting the numerous attempts on his boyfriend’s life; those set him on edge for weeks afterwards. Today was different, though. It wasn’t just he and Zuko and the guards who were unusually tense and hyper-alert. The whole palace felt like it was holding its breath, terse silence stifling in the late summer air.
Sokka checked his timepiece. Thirty minutes until Azula arrived to move into the palace, hopefully (or unfortunately?) for good.
Zuko had been back in contact with his sister for years now. He’d been to visit her in the hospital many times, and she’d even visited the palace occasionally. The fact that she and Zuko could now hold a conversation without setting each other on fire was testament to how she’d changed. Even the doctors said she was better, more stable.
But Sokka still didn’t trust her - couldn’t trust her, after everything she’d done to Katara, Suki, his dad, Zuko… they were his family, and he had to be ready to protect them. Sokka wasn’t the only one that felt that way. Zuko might have started to trust her again, but everyone else was skeptical.
Katara was pissed; Sokka didn’t need Toph’s seismic sense to know that. She, Aang, Toph, Suki, and a few other Kyoshi warriors had arrived a few days ago for extra security. Zuko had stubbornly maintained that it was unnecessary, but he’d finally conceded it was probably a good idea after Sokka had asked them to come anyway.
Zuko, in his earnest quest to be a good brother, wanted to give Azula a proper welcome to the palace, with a small celebratory dinner with their closest friends - which were Zuko’s closest friends, since Azula didn’t really have those anymore. Ty Lee and Mai declined to come, and he was pretty sure everyone else had only agreed to come to provide moral support and physical protection for Zuko. Sokka was just hoping a fight wouldn’t break out.
-
Dinner was, well. Tense.
Katara did little but pick at her food and glare icy daggers at Azula, who pretended not to notice, acting coolly unperturbed by the tension around her. Suki looked relaxed, but Sokka knew better. Her fans sat on either side of her plate, ready for a fight, and she never quite shifted her weight to the back of her seat. Toph might have been the only one actually having a good time, irreverently picking her nails and drinking more sake than a person her size should have been able to.
Aang was desperately trying to ease the mood, chattering on far too cheerfully about new trade routes between the Earth Kingdom and Southern Water Tribe, while Zuko passively nodded along, glancing over at his sister occasionally like he wanted to talk to her.
“... so then, shipments will move primarily between Akahime, Kyoshi Island, and the Southern Water Tribe, like they did when I was a kid! Or was a kid for the first time, I guess! Huh. Anyway! This is gonna be great because it’s a relatively short and easy trade route but the quality of goods -”
“Aang,” Sokka snapped, physically unable to listen any longer. “I love you like a brother, but that does mean that if I have to listen to you recite the trade proposal that I helped write for any longer, I will shave your eyebrows off while you sleep. And Katara -” Sokka whirled on her - “I know you’re upset, but can you please return my water to a liquid state? And everyone else’s, for that matter? Otherwise someone’s gonna have to deal with a hungover Toph tomorrow, and it sure as hell isn’t gonna be me!”
Sokka glared at his sister across the table. Her face was stony, her eyes slightly narrowed. Was this going to end well for Sokka? No. Did that mean he was going to back down? Absolutely not.
“Fine,” Katara muttered through gritted teeth. With a twitch of her fingers, the ice filling everyone’s cups of water melted back to liquid - all except Sokka’s.
“Real fucking mature, Katara - ” he began, and then she flicked her fingers out towards him, melting the water in his cup and sending it right at his face.
“You little shit!” Sokka shrieked in what he was sure was a very, very manly tone. As he rose to confront his sister, Zuko and Suki turned to exchange a fond look, both of them struggling to hide their laughter. Sokka took a breath, feigning sincerity. “You know what? I take it back. You’re ALL a bunch of assholes.” He yanked the tablecloth towards him, sending food and drink flying, before attempting to make a hasty escape.
Chaos erupted. Katara bent the water off herself and onto Zuko, apparently declaring him guilty by association. Toph began shooting grape-oranges at people with alarming precision, while Suki deflected them just as easily. Sokka didn’t get more than a few steps away from the table before his feet were earthbent into the floor.
“You’re not going anywhere, Snoozles!” Toph bellowed, now pelting him with various fruits. He tried to dodge without falling on his face, and was only saved by Zuko grabbing both his arms to keep him balanced. Sokka looked up to see Zuko with a wide grin on his face, and Sokka, hopelessly-in-love bisexual that he was, had barely started his usual inner monologue about how beautiful Zuko’s smile was when Zuko leaned in to smear egg custard on his face.
Just as Sokka opened his mouth to voice his betrayal, another shrill scream split the room: “Are you fucking kidding me?!” Everyone turned to see Azula standing in the corner of the room, irate, steaming the water off her shirt and picking a few stray noodles out of her hair. “I lost to you?! You?”
Tense silence returned, dragging on as everyone tried to anticipate Azula’s next move.
Toph, who had remained unscathed by using the metal plates as shields, and who was somehow still sipping from a full, intact glass of sake, broke the silence. “Yep,” she said, popping the “p”.
Azula stared at Toph for a few moments before sitting down, a look of resignation on her face. Hm. That was new. So was the “Whatever,” Sokka thought he heard her mutter under her breath.
Slowly, everyone returned to the table to pick at what was left of their food and exchange uneasy glances with one another.
Aang cleared his throat. “Did anyone try the chicken? I thought the chicken was lovely.”
-
“I’m going to bed. Are you coming?” Zuko’s hands rested lightly on Sokka’s shoulders, and Sokka sleepily tipped his head back, away from the scroll he was reading, for a kiss. Zuko smirked, a few strands of hair that had escaped his topknot softly framing his face, and obliged.
“I’ll be there soon, okay? I just have a couple more things to take care of,” Sokka murmured in response. As usual, they were up late working in their study. (Technically, it was Zuko’s study, but Sokka almost always worked in here and was steadily covering any available flat surface with his scrolls, reference books, and blueprints. Not that Zuko was complaining.)
Zuko hummed, “Okay, love you,” against Sokka’s lips, before striding out of the room. Sokka waited until his footsteps had faded down the hall before rising, hoping he remembered the way to Azula’s room. He really didn’t want to ask for directions.
A few minutes and wrong turns later, he found Azula. She yanked open her door before he had really finished knocking, snapping an acidic “What?” in his face.
Sokka shouldered his way inside, closing the door behind him and choosing to ignore the fact that she could fry him like a pig-chicken in an instant if she decided it was worth it. He couldn’t think about that right now; he had to do this.
“Listen,” he growled, not bothering to hide the years of hurt and anger behind his voice. “I don’t know if you’re actually better or if this is part of some elaborate scheme of yours, and you know what? Right now, I don’t really care. You’ve hurt too many of the people I love. But you have Zuko convinced, and I guess -” His voice cracked, and he took a breath, trying not to wince visibly. “I guess that’s all that matters right now. He cares about you. A lot. So if you hurt him again, know this: consequences be damned, ending you will be my sole mission. Understand?”
Azula, level and unflinching, arms crossed over her chest, held his gaze for a long moment before huffing and breaking eye contact to inspect her nails. “Bold of you to assume I can be killed, Water Tribe.”
Sokka could only continue to stare, gritting his teeth to prevent his mouth from drifting open in astonishment. The fuck kind of response was that? What did that even mean?
Apparently satisfied with her nails, she turned her face back up to look at Sokka, a new, hard glint in her eyes. “Don’t worry about me. The threat is mutual. Guards!” A royal guard stepped through the door, standing at attention. “Please escort Ambassador Sokka out. I need my beauty sleep.”
And before Sokka could even begin to form a response, the door was closing behind him, and his feet were guiding him to Zuko’s chambers.
2. the gaang goes crafting
Sokka placed two thumbs on his temples, rubbing vigorously before giving up his headache for a lost cause with a sigh. This was the second Four-Nation (well, three-nation plus Aang) diplomatic council meeting he had attended, and as both the Southern Water Tribe representative and a young man who had seen far too much over the past few years, he was deeply frustrated.
When he'd been younger, he'd sat through enough war meetings to know how they usually went: chaos and argument, with Hakoda listening carefully before picking out the bits and pieces that mattered. It was a lot like hunting: waiting and watching for the correct moment to strike. Sokka had learned long ago how to listen, and listen well.
Unfortunately, it seemed like he might be the only one. The Earth Kingdom generals had not taken kindly to being placed in a small room with their Fire Nation counterparts, and every word out of their mouths demonstrated all too clearly that the war, for them, was not yet over. Zuko's position was still precarious - twice-banished and once-crowned - and so he could only do so much. The Earth King's travels had clearly done him some good, but the bar for improvement was unbelievably low. And Sokka did not yet have his dad's ability to command the room.
So this wasn't, at all, like hunting. It might actually be more like the moment after the hunting was over, when the offal was thrown to the polar bear dogs and they went wild, howling and yelling and stomping down the snow.
"I know that face," came a snide voice to his left.
Sokka jumped and drew his sword, mostly on instinct. Azula met his eyes over its point, and then pushed it away, lazily. Sokka let her.
"You're thinking," she said. "If you were my brother, I would say it was a rare feat. But you're not him, are you?"
Like everything Azula said, this question was a test, or a game, or both. Sokka rolled his eyes and chose not to play. "What do you want?"
"I want what you want," said Azula. "And I can help you get it."
Spirits. Even when she was trying to help you, she sounded like she was planning world domination. "Tell me how to get General Wu to shut up for more than five minutes, and then we can talk."
Azula examined her nails. They were much shorter, now, than they had been at the start of the war, so the effect was less like a predator picking its claws, and more girlish; it made her look her age, for once. Sokka wasn't sure if Azula knew, and if not, he certainly wasn't going to tell her.
"General Wu's daughter is studying at the Royal Fire Nation Academy, in her third summer. That means she's currently memorizing the fifty-eight rhetorical principles, and she's probably been practicing them so much that he can recite them by rote. If you bring up the one about the value of being concise - "
"He will finish it, embarrass himself, and then keep quiet for at least the next five minutes so that I can shut down his stupid air-balloon outreach plan." Sokka blinked, surprised at the words coming out of his own mouth. "Did I just agree with you?"
"Of course you did," said Azula, smiling. Her palm was sparking a little, in the way it did before she said something about collective power for utter domination, etc., so Sokka took the opportunity to head her off early.
"Come back to the library with me," he said. "We still have nine generals to go."
Azula looked at him. Sokka looked right back. He had the upper hand here, and he knew it - Azula must have been bored out of her mind after months nothing interesting to do but watch the path of the odd frog-fly. As far as Sokka knew, she wasn't even allowed out of this wing of the palace unattended, let alone permitted to read anything more recent than her great-grandfather’s time.
"Fine," said Azula, finally, feigning boredom. Sokka smiled.
-
Zuko stared. "What is this?"
"What does it look like?" said two voices at once. Sokka and Azula looked at each other in brief, honest shock, before turning back to him as one. Zuko swallowed nervously and resisted the urge to draw his swords.
"Um. It looks like the librarian is gonna be mad at you for defacing the general's royal portraits," said Zuko.
"What did I tell you?" said Azula, scornful. "I knew he wouldn't understand."
"We just have to give him a minute," said Sokka, patiently. Zuko stared. We? he mouthed.
"Oh, well, let him be," said Azula. "Zuzu - " she began, sweetly, and Zuko didn't even flinch this time - "you take all the time you need. If you have questions, we will be in my chambers."
"In your chambers," agreed Zuko, haplessly. "Why?"
"We're finishing the border agreement," Sokka threw over his shoulder. Azula was already halfway down the hall.
"The border agreement. The one that - they've been working on that for months! What do you mean you're finishing it?"
"Oh, you know, teamwork and whatever. It wasn't that hard." Sokka grinned brightly at Zuko, giving him a large thumbs up, and then skipped after Azula.
3. the gaang does science
As much as Zuko was unnerved by the...alliance? working relationship? collaboration? between Sokka and Azula, he had to admit that they were making great progress. They had resolved the border agreement, a messy affair Zuko was sure would take the rest of the year and possibly also Aang’s moderation to conclude, in less than a week.
That had been months ago, and since, they had gotten everything from education reform bills to reparations proposals approved by the council and various world leaders. Sometimes Zuko wondered who was really running the country right now. He didn’t mind, though. It was fun to watch the dusty old men on his advisory council squirm in meetings when Azula sat in the corner, staring them down and taking meticulous notes.
Plus, he got more sleep this way.
Zuko rose and stretched after signing off the Power Duo’s latest proposal for terracing the mountainside of a nearby village to grow rice. Dismissing his constant internal struggle over whether their partnership should make him thankful or fearful for his safety, he went to find Sokka. He got more time to eat in places that weren’t his study now, too. He’d thought a surprise picnic by the turtleduck pond might be nice; it’d been so long since he and Sokka had been able to go on an actual date.
He’d already asked for a blanket and a basket of food to be sent over to the pond, so all he had to do was find Sokka, who…wasn’t in his office. Zuko frowned; he must be outside.
Zuko headed towards the courtyard behind the building instead, lost in thought about their last date - Sokka had talked him into seeing The Ember Island Players’ most recent atrocity, which had lived up to Zuko’s rock-bottom expectations, but they’d gone swimming afterwards, and then -
Zuko’s train of thought (and the accompanying flush in his cheeks) was cut off abruptly by the truly alarming sight greeting him in the courtyard.
Azula was elaborately strapped and tied to Sokka’s back like a baby hog monkey, her arms falling in front of his shoulders to tighten a couple last straps. Both were wearing large, ridiculous, leather-framed goggles that fit snugly around their eyes. As Azula worked with the straps, Sokka unfurled two triangular pieces of cloth that bore suspicious similarity to the wings of Aang’s glider. The bottom part of the cloth appeared to be attached to his boots, the top edge to his arms.
Before Zuko could even say, What the fuck, Sokka? , Sokka grinned over his shoulder at Azula and said with far too much vigor, “Ready?”
Azula, clearly still focused on the straps, snapped, “I’m always ready. Are you sure this will work?”
“No, but there’s only one way to find out! That’s science! Sokka-POW!” And with that, Azula lit a massive flame under her feet, sending them both flying above the roof of the palace. Immediately, despite Sokka’s best efforts with the cloth flaps, they careened wildly out of control before plummeting directly into the roof of the residential hall on the opposite side of the courtyard.
As he sprinted towards them, calling for his guards to send a healer, he could think only two thoughts: (1) spirits, please let them be okay, and (2) if they’re not dead, I’m going to kill them.
Crashing through the door of the building, he found Sokka and Azula on the (very charred) floor, a few small fires surrounding them, which he snuffed out with a wave of his hand. The two were still mostly strapped together, Sokka rolling around on the floor in an attempt to dislodge Azula, while she tried to undo the straps at Sokka’s front with mixed success.
Zuko unsheathed one of the daggers at his waist and willed himself not to breathe fire as he launched into a tirade that bald-ponytail, sixteen-year-old Zuko would have been proud of. “What the fuck were you two thinking! Are you stupid? Don’t answer that, smartass,” He glared pointedly at Sokka while he sliced his way through their bindings. “What would I have done if something happened to either of you? There’d be a fucking diplomatic crisis, I’d have a dead ambassador and a dead sister and a very, very angry Southern Water Tribe -”
“In my defense,” Sokka muttered hoarsely, head lolling back onto the floor, “my dad would definitely believe you if you told him that I did something like this.”
“Do you even hear yourself?” He sheathed his dagger and whirled on his sister. “Azula,” he pleaded, “why?”
She shrugged, and offered only, “Science.” A smirk spread over her face, splitting streaks of soot. “Maybe if you’d let me read a book published in the last two hundred years, then I’d know it was a bad idea.”
Zuko’s imminent death threat was cut off by Sokka’s chuckling from the floor. “Nice one, ‘Zula. Up top.” He raised his hand weakly for Azula to give him a high five.
I can’t believe I’m in love with this concussed idiot, Zuko thought (not for the first time). Healers rushed in to save the two from Zuko’s remaining wrath. “I’m telling Katara,” Zuko muttered.
“Nooooo, babyyy, please don’t tell Katara, she’ll -”
“I’m telling Katara, mostly because you deserve to be yelled at by someone else, but also because she and Aang get here in a week, and I don’t know how else I’m going to explain why it looks like a comet crashed into the palace. And, you know what? Royal decree - you two are not allowed to hang out unsupervised any more.”
Azula glared at him - less her old I’m-going-to-mount-your-head-on-the-palace-gates glare and more the usual your-existence-tires-me glare that he saw pass between Sokka and Katara so often. That was better, though, and Zuko decided that he would take it. Sokka just pouted, jutting out his bottom lip and batting his eyelashes. Zuko found this look cuter than he should, and Sokka knew it.
Zuko steeled his resolve. “I’m telling Katara, and I’m not going to stop giving you shit about this until we’re approximately eighty, okay? But you can read whatever you want in the library. Happy?”
The Power Duo cheered, and Zuko couldn’t hold back a soft smile.
4. the gaang hoards the brain cells
Maybe it was a lifetime of being the oldest sibling and also the responsible sibling, or maybe it was just because he had grown up around Katara, but despite all appearances to the contrary (see: the as-yet unrepaired roof of the residential hall) Sokka was actually a great influence on Azula.
Part of this was definitely due to the fact that Azula, like, listened to him. Sokka wasn't sure that he'd ever been around someone who did what he said without question. Zuko supported him, but in a boyfriend kind of way; sometimes Sokka would jump in with a plan fully formed, and then Zuko would make him explain it back and work out the kinks; other times - and especially in fights - by the time Sokka had come up with a workable plan, Zuko was already in the middle of it, flaming-feet first, and Sokka had to improvise (brilliantly, but desperately) to keep up.
Katara, conversely, never actually listened to him. She just did what she wanted. If what she wanted happened to line up with Sokka's exact plan, she would never admit it. It was her right, really, as a younger sibling; Sokka knew this, and he loved her.
But Azula understood his plans almost before he said them out loud -  most of the time because she was thinking the same thing. And somehow, out of everyone - she respected him the most; sometimes Sokka felt like she was trying to earn his approval, like she knew that if Sokka trusted her, so would Katara, and even Zuko. If she was a sail, Sokka was just a rudder, steering her: they didn't have to be pointing the same direction, but their boat would never crash.
Sokka frowned, trying to imagine himself as a boat. Would his wolf-tail be the rudder? Or would his whole body just be triangle-shaped?
It didn't matter. (It did. He would figure it out later.) Right now, he needed to talk to her about some of the villages at the southern border; heavy rains had induced mudslides, wiping out shrines and causing the spirits to run amok. Sokka thought that maybe, this village might be a kind of Heroism Starter Pack for Azula, that they could - what was that noise?
Sokka looked down. The castle floor should not be splashing his feet, and yet it was; he was standing in a giant puddle. He looked up, suddenly focused; there was a trail of muddy water making its way down the hall.
Sokka followed it. The water grew muddier and deeper as he went, and Sokka despaired for whoever would have to clean it up. Finally, he caught up to the source: his very bedraggled sister, and his equally soaked boyfriend, trudging toward the baths.
"Um," said Sokka. "What's happening, here?"
Katara turned around. "Well, someone had to do it." Her hands were on her hips, her nose upturned.
"Yeah," agreed Zuko, smiling. "We took care of it. It was fun."
Don't get him wrong - Sokka was all for Zuko's little smiles, and Zuko having fun, but - "Take care of what? What did you do?"
Zuko and Katara scowled, eerily identical. "What we did," Katara said, edging from 'self-satisfied' to 'fiercely righteous', "was settle the spirits and save the villagers, since obviously the Earth kingdom civil forces don't have the bending knowledge to do it yet!"
"Yeah, like I said," said Zuko. He was frowning like a kicked puppy, which was unfair to Sokka specifically. "We took care of it."
"Oh," said Sokka, relaxing. "That's great! So you guys talked to the villagers?"
"Um," said Zuko. "About what?"
"...the mudslides. And, like, preventing them? The tiered rock formations?"
Zuko stared at him, a little furrow forming between his eyebrows which meant he was totally lost. Katara avoided his gaze, shifting from foot to foot.
"Katara," said Sokka, using his absolute best big brother voice, "remember my designs? Which I told you about last week?"
"Look, Sokka," said Katara, gently. Sokka frowned and crossed his arms; Katara had not been able to fool him with that voice since she was about ten years old, and she knew it. "We solved the problem. The spirits are settled and everything is okay now! Your designs were great, but we just...didn't need them?"
Sokka stared her down; Katara stared back.
"If you're going to -" "Well, what exactly was your - " they began, at the same time, and Zuko sighed; before they could really get into it, a rush of heat interrupted them, shrinking the puddles on the floor to sad little piles of dirt, and blowing Katara's hair dramatically into her face. Sokka stifled a laugh.
"I think the real question is, what did you actually do?" Azula asked, appearing from the shadows. She was holding Zuko's Blue Spirit mask, which was dripping with mud.
"Dramatic entrance high-five," said Sokka, because she deserved it, and because she was going to be on his side. Azula obliged, and then raised an eyebrow to Katara and Zuko, who reminded Sokka a bit of blow-dried cat-herons.
"We're not dumb," said Katara, smoothing down her robes. "We entered the village in disguise, and then cleared the mud and repaired the shrines. The spirits calmed down pretty quickly after everything was fixed."
"Right," said Azula. "Until the next time it rains. You know, what might have worked better would be to educate the villagers about flood barriers, or perhaps even offer them assistance in moving their shrines."
She sounded about as scornful and sarcastic as usual, but Sokka knew better; her ideas were legitimate and compassionate. He was so proud. Their murder baby was all grown up and trying to save people.
Katara did not pick up on the fact that Sokka was swelling like a pig-chicken about to crow. "You don't know that - "
"What we do know," interrupted Sokka bossily, "is that at some point it's going to rain again, and then the villagers are going to sit and pray to the Blue Spirit and the Painted Lady instead of building these custom-designed flood barriers on the mountain."
Zuko shuffled his feet. "I didn't really think about that."
"Zuko, I love you," said Sokka. "but in my humble opinion? No, you did not."
"I don't agree," began Katara, but Azula cut her off. "I do. I feel the same way Sokka does."
Zuko stared at her, like he was desperately trying not to ask: about what? But Azula was biting her lip and kind of looked like she was about to break into hives, so Sokka let her have this one.
"Here," he said, thrusting his plans into Katara's arms. "I support the fact that you guys got to do your dramatic spirit thing, but now please go back and give them my plans."
Azula brought two fingers up to her nose, showily. "And do take a bath, please. I doubt the villagers will appreciate your particular stench.”
5. the gaang plans a proposal
“...and that’s why you can’t trust General Yin, but you can use him to gain influence with Ambassador Xi and her supporters,” Azula finished, emphatically pointing at a few points on the elaborate web of papers tacked up on the wall of Sokka’s quarters. It’s not like he’s slept in there in years, anyway.
Zuko’s bed is much nicer. Because it has Zuko in it.
Sokka jotted down a few notes from Azula’s monologue, absentmindedly passing her their (stolen) bowl of noodles. He dropped his pen and rubbed his eyes. On to more important work. “So,” he said. “I’m proposing to Zuko. Wanna help?”
Azula met his eyes and stared him down. Sokka waggled his eyebrows, smile as big as his face.
“You’re serious,” she realized.
“Of course I am! It’s the biggest tactical challenge of the century, because Zuko is the most suspicious guy we know and he absolutely cannot suspect.” Sokka tossed her a scroll. It was long - and detailed. “What do you say?”
“With my help, this will be the best proposal ever made. Together, you and I are unbeatable!”
“Cool beans,” said Sokka. “Plan over breakfast tomorrow?”
-
Zuko stared at Katara. Katara stared at Zuko.
“Okay, so. I love your brother.”
“Obviously.”
Zuko shifted in his seat; his tea was untouched. “No, I mean. I really love your brother. He’s - the love of my life.”
Katara narrowly resisted the urge to say: if you love him so much, why don’t you marry him? Then, abruptly, she got the point.
“Are you asking for my blessing?”
“No,” said Zuko, and in response to Katara’s murderous glare, backtracked immediately. “Yes? I mean. I already asked Chief Hakoda.”
“Oh,” said Katara. Then, more gently, and possibly because she was worried Zuko might pass out, she asked, “What do you need my help with?”
“Planning,” he said, letting out a breath. “I want to propose and do it right, but Sokka’s the plan guy. Everyone knows that. And I thought, that since you know him, you could - “ He cuts himself off. “Forget it. It was a dumb idea anyway.”
Katara wills him to meet her eyes, because she is completely certain that they are actually sparkling. “Zuko,” she says, hand to her heart. “I would be honored.”
-
“Hello, Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe. Your boyfriend, Zuko, here. Well, you probably know me because of...all the time we spend together. You know, dates and other things. Like meetings - “
Sokka’s hand was suddenly on his forehead. “Zuko, babe, are you feeling all right?”
In short succession, Sokka examined his eyes, ears, and tongue, and took his pulse (ripping his robes open to do so). Zuko flushed, which just seemed to make Sokka more concerned.
“Sokka!” he growled. “I’m fine. Everything is fine. And also normal. Fine and normal.”
“Of course!” said Sokka, laughing a little maniacally. Maybe he was spending too much time with Azula. “Fine and normal. Why wouldn’t it be?” He laughed again.
“Uh, guys,” said Toph. “Are you two okay?”
Zuko blinked, and came back to himself. In front of him were ten to fifteen very important diplomats, and all of his best friends. He was in public, at dinner. And his robes were ripped wide open.
Sokka was suddenly jerked back in his chair, presumably by Azula. His eye twitched. “Nothing to see here, Toph! Look! I’ve finished my dinner!”
Toph frowned. “You haven’t, and I can tell when you’re lying.”
“Fine, I’m not hungry!” Sokka declared. “What are you, a cop?” His eye twitched again. “I have to go now, for unrelated reasons. To, uh, review some paperwork. Bye!”
He was gone so fast Zuko was pretty sure he left a little dust cloud behind. Toph looked nonplussed. “But,” she said, “I am a cop.”
Katara reached over to help Zuko straighten his robes, giving him a sympathetic look. He felt Suki’s glare from across the room. When he and Sokka had started dating she’d threatened to - quote - remove his entire spine from his body by way of his mouth if Zuko broke Sokka’s heart, and with the way Zuko was acting right now…he couldn’t blame her for being suspicious.
Katara followed his gaze. “Hey, Zuko,” she said, brightly. “Didn’t you have that - thing?”
“What thing?” said Zuko. Oh, god. He had forgotten something, hadn’t he? He -
Katara pinched his arm, hard. “You know. That thing. That you had to do in your chambers?”
He couldn’t lose face any more than he already had. “Of course, Katara,” he said. “I will go now to do that thing.” Zuko stood up and retreated with dignity, praying that whatever it was, he would remember when he got there.
The table was quiet in their absence. The diplomats - who seemed to be inured to this sort of thing - soon began chatting peacefully, or placating Aang, who had helpfully pulled out his usual marble trick.
Azula watched Katara steadily over the table; Katara refused to meet her eye. “What,” Katara said, finally. “Is there something on my face?”
Azula leaned forward, bangs shadowing her face. “Tell me everything you know.”
“About what?”
“You know what!” Azula snapped. “Is my brother planning to propose?”
Katara shifted in her seat. “Unlike you,” she began, haughtily, “I know when to retreat. So, fine. I will tell you some of the things I know.”
“Where,” Azula demanded, “and when?”
“Princess, Sparky,” Toph said, irritated. “Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter whether you know, because those two dumbasses haven’t figured it out!”
This brought the table to a halt. Even Aang stopped his marble, because it was true: Sokka and Zuko might together be the force that had liberated Boiling Rock, but when it came to each other? That famed intellect went sailing out the window.
Katara deflated, laying her head on the table. “We’ve got our work cut out for us, don’t we?”
Azula reached out and, wonder of wonders, patted her arm with something close to sympathy. “Might as well get started.”
-
Zuko paced his chambers restlessly. What had he forgotten? Oh god, was it something related to the proposal? His hands flew to a fold in his robes, finding the necklace he’d engraved for Sokka - a smooth, deep blue leather band with a perfect moonstone pendant, which Zuko had engraved with a dragon and a wolf, nested together in a loving embrace. He sighed in relief.
Spirits, Zuko was so in love with him. He was desperately trying not to fuck up this proposal, but it seemed he was fucking up the not fucking up and -
He needed to take a walk and clear his head. He could almost hear his uncle sagely murmuring, “You rarely find answers in a crowded mind, Nephew.” Or something like that. Zuko made his way from his and Sokka’s room to the turtleduck pond. It seemed he was usually able to find answers there; it reminded him of his mom.
Approaching the pond, he saw a familiar figure sitting at the base of the cherry tree, already starting to bloom. Sokka seemed lost in thought, staring down at something in his lap, but jerked to attention once he heard the rustle of Zuko’s boots against the grass.
Zuko sat down next to his partner, nerves momentarily overshadowed by the sweet, peaceful movement of wind through the branches of the cherry tree and his abundant love for the man sitting next to him. Zuko reached up to brush a stray blossom from Sokka’s wolf tail, cradled his face to run a thumb over his cheekbone. “Hi,” Zuko murmured, gently pressing their foreheads together. “I’m sorry.”
Sokka pulled back slightly, face contorted in confusion. “For what? I’m the one that should be apologizing. Zuko, I -”
“Apologize? For what? I’m the one who acted like an absolute ass. Ugh, spirits, ‘Zuko here,’ what was I thinking,” He dropped Sokka’s gaze, his hands drifting towards his lap, getting painfully frustrated once again. “And then I just - I couldn’t - fuck!” Zuko was interrupted by Sokka’s hands grabbing his hips and pulling him onto Sokka’s lap, and by Sokka’s lips meeting his.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Sokka murmured in between tender kisses, and his lips were soft and warm and everything Zuko wanted right now and for the rest of his life, and if he had to keep this a secret anymore, Zuko thought he might literally die.
Zuko pulled away, just enough to look Sokka in the eyes. “Marry me,” Zuko breathed. “Please, Sokka. I love you so much, and I don’t know where I’d be without you, and I - I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Zuko only realized he was crying when Sokka ran his thumb under Zuko’s good eye, brushing away tears while Zuko fumbled in his robe for the necklace.
At the sight of the necklace, tears began to spill from Sokka’s eyes, too. “Zuko… it’s beautiful, I - yes. Zuko, yes.” Zuko released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and they were kissing again, and then all of a sudden, they weren’t, because Sokka, the absolute fucker, was laughing uncontrollably.
Zuko immediately began imagining worst-case scenarios. What if he didn’t mean it? What if the past five years with him have been some extremely elaborate prank, and -
Sokka, noticing his now-fiance’s abrupt silence, attempted to quash his laughter and held Zuko’s hands - still clutching the engagement necklace - in his own. “Zuko, love, hey, look at me. I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing because, well…” He pulled a small pouch from one of his pockets and opened it to reveal two delicately engraved golden bracelets, traditional Fire Nation engagement gifts. One held the image of a dragon; the other, a beautiful motif of waves crashing against a shore. They glinted warmly in the moonlight alongside the pendant of the engagement necklace. “I’m laughing because I had the same idea, I guess. I love you so much, and I want a life with you. Will you help me put this on?”
Zuko first let Sokka slide the bracelets over each of his wrists, then lifted his hands, shaking slightly, but steadied by Sokka’s warm touch, to clasp the necklace behind his neck. The tension bled out of Zuko, and he melted into Sokka, pushing him to the ground and kissing him senseless, from his mouth to the stone now resting at the base of his throat.
Sokka started laughing again, and Zuko joined in, overjoyed at the beauty and the absurdity of it all, at how lucky and in love he was.
6. the gaang commits arson
Librarian Hirai had been working at the royal palace since before Firelord Zuko had been crowned, going on forty years, now. His vast experience hadn’t prepared him for everything, certainly; the time with five Kyoshi warriors and a badgermole had been unprecedented, and he wasn’t sure he was going to lift the ban on platypus-bears in the palace anytime soon.
Hirai’s experience, however, had prepared him for this: the Fire Nation’s most formidable duo, Ambassador Sokka and Her Highness Azula, together, with access to children.
Hirai did not know the children’s names. He classified them solely on their capacity to irritate him; the only name he knew was that of the youngest, Tenzin, because the sweet child had never caused him any trouble. Naturally, Tenzin was to be found nowhere near this unholy gathering: instead, Hirai saw the bouncy one (liable to cause things to fall over), the Princess (insolent, with her fathers shamelessly wrapped around her finger), and the Teenager (arms always crossed, eyes forever rolling).
Her Highness Azula’s hand was alight with blue fire. To the courtyard and everyone within earshot, she was saying: “If you want to burn it, just go ahead. Everything important, your uncle or I have memorized.”
Hirai stopped listening, in an effort to avoid a coronary and possibly death. There was a protocol. Everything would be fine.
He moved methodically, double checking fire suppressant stations and tightening the seal on the vacuum chambers holding the oldest scrolls. He closed every entrance except the main one, and he stood guard outside of it.
This was not a long process; their royal Highnesses were still gathered like a storm cloud in the courtyard. A particularly loud storm cloud. Hirai had weathered storms before.
The ground rumbled, slightly. Republic City Chief of Police, Toph Beifong, emerged from it, and dusted herself off.
“You know,” she said conversationally, “arson is illegal. I can have you arrested for that.”
Hirai relaxed, infinitesimally. Beifong was known to be tough and fair; perhaps, after so many years, the spirits had thought to grant him an ally.
“So,” said Toph, rubbing her palms together. “Today, I’m going to teach you how not to get caught.”
It was interesting: Hirai had never before actually lent weight to the expression that one’s life could flash before their eyes. In that moment, swaying slightly where he stood, he was forced to concede that there might have been some truth to it after all.
He turned around, very calmly, and made his way to his desk. He groped vaguely for some parchment and ink, and in precise lettering dictated his resignation from the palace staff, effective immediately.
Somewhere out in the courtyard, their Highnesses’ Uncle Sokka and Aunt Azula high-fived.
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ejzah · 4 years
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A/N: This chapter is based off of season two episode “Bounty”. Again I have changed or edited things to suit my purposes. They’ll be part two for next week.
As always, thanks to everyone who has supported this story, I really appreciate it! Even if I sometimes forget to respond to your comments.
***
The Agent and the Lawyer, Part 15
“Try to aim for the inner part of area 9,” Kensi instructed as Deeks aimed his borrowed gun across the shooting range.
“Which one?” he asked.
“I don’t care as long as you get out of the 8’s.” His aim had improved marginally, but not enough to truly satisfy Kensi. If he was being completely honest, Deeks wasn’t exactly putting in his full effort.
He aimed again, falling into the stance Kensi had demonstrated during his first session. This time Kensi didn’t move to assist him, leaning against the wall with her arms tightly crossed.
It was probably a good thing. The tension between them was at an all time high. While Deeks was fairly certain he wouldn’t toss Kensi across his desk in his desperation to finish what they’d started the other night, he didn’t need the distraction.
Just sitting next to her was distraction enough. He kept remembering what it felt like to have her body pressed against his. Her hands running over his chest.
“Deeks!” Kensi prompted and he jerked.
He sighed under his breath. They really needed a night off without any interruption. Deeks pulled the trigger, hitting the line between sections 8 and 9 on the right.
Kensi made a noise, but didn’t comment as he sighted the target again. He felt a little bad for not making this easier on Kensi. Hetty would no doubt hold her partially responsible when he didn’t progress as expected.
“Your want to come over tonight?” he asked, partially to distract himself from more inappropriate thoughts.
“I would, but I promised Nell I’d go out for drinks if we finish early enough,” Kensi told him apologetically. “I think she’s kind of lonely.”
Deeks hadn’t spent much time around Nell Jones, the newest Intelligence Analyst in apparently long line. She seemed eager to prove herself, maybe a little too much at times, but she got along well enough with everyone. Deeks had even gotten a smile or two out of her.
It was fun to watch her and Eric descend into mutual bouts of geekiness, when they weren’t competing against each other.
“Maybe I can tag along.” He squinted and shot. The shoulder again.
“I’m not sure that’s a great idea.” There was an odd note in her tone and he frowned.
“Why not?” he asked. Kensi didn’t answer immediately so he turned to face her, dropping the gun to his thigh. She looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me.” He said it jokingly and it seemed ridiculous, but it there didn’t seem like another likely explanation for her reaction.
“Of course I’m not!” she said, giving him an annoyed look. “Why would you even think that.” She sighed and pushed herself of the wall. “I just think that it might be a little strange if I invited you to come with and no one else. Everyone thinks we’re just...colleagues and I’d like to keep it that way a little longer.”
“Ok,” he agreed quietly. “But you know someone is going to figure it out sooner or later.” He didn’t say anything, a little more subdued as he considered the paper targets with two holes in its right side.
Kensi sighed again, finally walking over to him. She took the gun from him, set it to the side, and leaned against his side.
“You know I wish it was different, but it’ll make it so much easier if we don’t have to worry about everyone watching, waiting for us to screw this up too.”
“I know. But just to be clear, we’re not going to mess anything up, including this “thing”.” Kensi made a face, but didn’t move away and said,
“Please stop calling it our “thing”,” she requested. He grinned, enjoying teasing her.
“Yeah, I’m probably not going to,” he said. Kensi rolled her eyes, briefly tugging him closer to kiss his cheek. “You know, that’s not really helping with the whole “keep us a secret at work” thing, right?”
She pulled back, her expression mischievous, as she started emptying the gun for him.
“It’s called self-control.” Her grin was massive. God, she could be so annoying sometimes and he absolutely loved it. “C’mon let’s see what’s going on in the bullpen.
It turned out that Sam and Callen were in the midst of their own little discussion. Callen was goading Sam, who was naturally taking the bate. He seemed in an exceptionally irritated mood.
Deeks almost made a joke about them sounding like an old married couple, but figured that would be going just a little too far. Especially since he and Sam had been on better terms since the Maragos case.
“Where have you two been?” Callen asked. Kensi froze, looking ridiculously suspicious at the innocent question. Neither Callen or Sam seemed to notice since they were focused on their own conversation.
“Uh, Kensi was just telling me about an old boyfriend she had,” Deeks answered after a second, grinning as Kensi glared at him. “She said he was super hot, right Kens?”
“Mm, he wasn’t that great,” Kensi said darkly, her eyes promising payback when they were alone.
“Ooh, looks like there’s trouble in paradise,” Callen commented. Deeks saw Kensi’s eyes dart his way before she shrugged with false nonchalance.
“We’re fine,” she insisted.
“It doesn’t sound like you’re fine. It sounds like you two can barely stand each other half the time,” Sam said, standing up. “If you’re going to be working together, you need to start building a healthy relationship.”
Deeks had to force himself not to laugh. He wondered if making out against a wall counted as a healthy relationship in Sam’s mind.
Narrowly holding back a smirk, Deeks said,
“We’ll work on it.”
Eric whistled for them at the top of the stairs, saving them from further conversation about relationships.
Eric and Nell quickly filled them in on Thomas Booth’s kidnapping and they were off to check out a stolen Audi. Kensi maintained a larger distance between them than normal, but he thought it was mostly for show.
***
By the time they made it to the scene, Kensi seemed to have forgiven him or was putting aside her annoyance for the sake of professionalism.
While Kensi briefly spoke with an on-scene cop, Deeks scanned the area and noticed three males, maybe on their late teens watching from the opposite side of the street.
“Hey Kens,” he said, touching her arm and nodding to them. They didn’t move as he and Kensi approached.
“Gentleman,” Kensi greeted them with a smile. “Is there anything you can tell us about what happened here?”
The one in front grinned at Kensi and shrugged. None of them seemed to even notice Deeks standing next to her.
“Last night we saw some guys around the corner, in the empty lot, with flashlights,” he told her.
“Any idea what they looked like?” The kid shook his head.
“It was too dark. Five went out there and four came back. That’s all we saw.” Kensi nodded, giving him another smile and handed him a card.
“Well, if you think of anything else, let me know,” she said.
“Unbelievable,” Deeks muttered as they walked towards the lot. At Kensi’s questioning look, he explained, “You didn’t even have to try with that kid. He would have told you anything.”
“There are perks to being pretty,” Kensi said a little smugly. “And it certainly saves me snitch money.”
She turned more serious as they approached two broken down, graffiti covered cars that looked like they’d been there since Hill Street Blues was filmed.
“You smell that?” Kensi asked and he nodded, wrinkling his nose against the stench. It was impossible to miss, which didn’t bode well for Thomas Booth.
“Geez,” Deeks hissed when they found his mutilated body carelessly slung across the backseats in one of the vehicles. Booth was stripped down to his boxers, drying blood coating several parts of his body and a grid of black marker across his chest. Deeks took an involuntary step back, pressing his hand against his mouth for a second.
“You ok?” Kensi touched his arm and he nodded again, even if it wasn’t entirely true.
“Yeah, just took me by surprise.”
“I’ll go tell LAPD we found him,” she said with a sigh, leaving Deeks with the body.
He forced himself to move past his revulsion, crouching down by the car. Someone had clearly tortured Thomas Booth; he’d been stabbed multiple time. He must have been in horrific pain the entire time. Deeks shuddered at the thought.
Kensi returned, with two officer, directing them to collect evidence from the rest of the lot. She crouched beside Deeks, sighing as she pulled on black latex gloves. She pointed to the grin of black lines.
“The Magic Marker lines all over his skin correspond to non-lethal wound points,” she explained. “The lines are a target for the stab wounds.”
“I know,” Deeks said, almost to himself. Kensi twisted to look at him, raising an eyebrow and he added, “I came across something similar from a study case during law school. He must have been terrified when they started drawing those lines on, knowing what was coming.”
“Gunshot to the head. Mercy kill. He was interrogated. Booth had information. Once he gave it up, kidnappers capped him and dumped the body,” Kensi continued, her voice clinical as she mapped out Booth’s death. It was a little chilling how calmly she could talk about these things sometimes.
“Lucky guy.” His voice was dark. Pressing her lips together, Kensi just barely brushed his arm before she continued assessing.
“Despite what it looks like, there isn’t any excessive mutilation that would indicate a personal grudge. Judging by the wounds, he was tortured for hours before he was killed.”
“He knew something,” Deeks summed up. “I guess the question now is what and how bad is it that the bad guys now have that information?”
“Yeah. I’ll call Sam and Callen to give them an update,” she said.
***
“Sam and Callen are trying to find Booth’s son, Brandon,” Kensi informed Deeks several minutes later. “Apparently he hated his dad and has a record, but they don’t really think he’s involved in any of this.”
“Mm, daddy issues,” Deeks muttered to himself. “Those are always fun.” Kensi tilted her head, considering him with narrowed eyes.
“Speaking from experience?” she asked. Deeks chuckled at her complete lack of subtlety. “You mentioned that you didn’t have a great relationship with your dad.”
“Yes, I did.” Kensi made a face at his non-response.
“You know, you’ll have to tell me sometime.”
“Just as soon as you tell me what you write about in that journal in your bag,” he countered. “Wait, it’s me, isn’t it? Just page after page of prose written about my golden locks and my-“
Kensi smacked his arm, pressing her lips together as she tried not to smile.
“You are such an idiot,” she said, looking beyond him. Suddenly her expression changed and she dropped her gaze back to him. “You see that guy in the suit? Tailored one that costs more than I make in a year?”
Deeks discretely turned sideways, giving a slow sweep of the area before her looked where Kensi has indicated. “Yep.” Kensi was right, his suit was of excellent quality. At least from what he could tell from a distance.
Kensi snapped a picture with her phone, again trying to be casual, but the man noticed anyway and took off at a run.
“He's going!” Kensi shouted, taking off after him. Deeks started to follow, but she tossed him her keys and ordered,
“Take the car, cut him off! There’s an extra sig locked in the glove compartment just in case.”
“What, so now I’m your sidekick,” Deeks yelled, even as he followed her instructions. As he drove one-handed, he unlocked the glove compartment. “Right, cause a gun in the hands of someone who regularly misses the entire target is a great idea,” he muttered to himself.
Kensi had disappeared down a side street and it took him a minute to find her. When he did, she was in the middle of fighting the suspect. He had Kensi pressed again a chain link fence and Deeks didn’t even think as he grabbed the gun, pulling alongside them. He pointed the gun out the window and shouted,
“Hold it!” Kensi used the man’s distraction to punch him, the force knocking him to the ground. While Kensi slammed the man into the fence and started searching his pockets, Deeks got out of the car, still aiming the gun at him.
The man kept insisting that they were making a mistake and after a moment Kensi took a step back.
“Put down the gun,” Kensi told Deeks.
“What? Why?” He didn’t know what could have changed Kensi’s attitude so quickly.
“Diplomatic immunity.” She held up his wallet which had an ID identifying him as Jafar Khan. Well, that wasn’t good.
***
A/N: I want to sort of follow the show, rather than completely recreating events, but if there are particular things you’d like to see or have suggestions for how to make it less cumbersome, I’m all ears. Should I continue adapting the episodes, or just include key scenes and write mostly about Kensi and Deeks’ relationship? I do have a couple things planned for a few chapters from now that I do think you all will enjoy.
Once again, thanks for reading!
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Polaroids
Request: Like I already told you for my Liz Thompson x Boyfriend! Reader where the two of them are going on a road trip and the reader has to take photos of the trip and LIz: The eldest of the Thompson sisters request. I would like this request written as an one-shot
Title: Polaroids
Genre: I hope you don’t mind the request being marked as a fluffy and romantic piece! 
Pairing: Liz Thompson X Boyfriend!Reader
Notes: Fair warning before I begin, I want to preface everything I say with this: the work is cheesy, the work will be very cliche, but I do hope that it comes off as cute and acceptable. Thanks for the request!
(Also, I took some small liberties and made the characters older for the idea to work. I hope you don’t mind that!) 
Below the cut! 
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Death City was sparkling under the sun, the heat pounding on the walkways and buildings. People were walking around from ice cream stand to cafe, and the weather was making itself obvious on their faces. 
The rushing crowd was big, but nonetheless, Liz and (y/n) had managed to sneak away for the time being. You had dragged Liz on a date, and it was a time spent trying to get Kid to let Liz go for the day - “He needs his weapons, and he had to have symmetry!”
Safe to assume, Liz was able to be free of the teenage reaper for the day (as long as she was prepared to come by if a kishin were to show up), and she was as happy as could be. In typical fashion, she was complaining, but (y/n) and her wouldn’t have it any other way.
The couple were holding hands, a safer way to go through the town without dealing with heatstroke, when an idea hit the male. “Weird idea, how about a road trip? Maybe later this week, possibly even today?” 
The dirty blonde blanched before responding, “Kid would flip, babe.It would take a lot of convincing.” (Y/n) groaned at the realization - his girlfriend’s right, Kid wouldn’t allow it. That is, unless...
“What if we invite them to come with? Or, at least give them the warning?” he inquired. Liz had stopped for a second, trying to deliberate the idea quickly. (Y/n) found the image of her pouting just the slightest super cute, though he knew he had to hold off from doing that if it meant the thought would come somewhat to fruition. 
She smiled after a few seconds, “Tell me about the plan over coffee, and we may have a deal.” 
(Y/n) snickered at the compromise, rolling his eyes with a grin, but gently tugged her to the nearest Deathbucks. “First things first....”
...
Overall, the idea deliberation went fairly well, but the fact of the matter was: the rest of the group would be a hazard to a peaceful experience. 
The couple had come to this conclusion by the time their date had come to an end, and this led to a compromise in which (Y/n) and Liz would do the trip themselves, and if needed, could allow the team reason to find them in the case of a kishin attack. 
It seemed to flow pretty well, and the idea was considered and confirmed. After all, a meister needs their weapon, and with Kid you had to be careful. Luckily, the plan went by well with him (Patty was flipping out throughout the whole pitch) and Liz had already started to get her stuff together. Once you got the confirmation, you did the same. 
It took a few days to pass, but everything was prepared and you two left at an ungodly hour (4:30 AM to be specific). Liz was extremely tired, so she didn’t last too long with the softer music playing from the speakers of the taller male’s vehicle. Though he was also tired, (Y/n) had to stay alert if the drive was to be safe.
The specialized playlist had continued to play throughout the time on the road, as well as when (Y/n) had peeked over at his girlfriend in the passenger’s seat. Her hair was strewn about the headrest despite being tied into a ponytail, her jacket had slipped off her shoulder, and her eyelashes were casting shadows on the top of her cheeks.
“An opportunity, perhaps...?” the male had inquired under his breath. His own thought overwhelmed him and he pulled off at a nearby rest stop.
(Y/n) had to get the picture, and what Liz didn’t know was that her boyfriend had brought a polaroid camera with his stuff. And it was sitting in the bigger pocket of his travel bag in the backseat of the vehicle.
Given the scenario and the photo op, he quietly leaned back and grabbed the camera. After checking to make sure she was still asleep, he snapped a picture and waited for the photo to come out. 
Once it was in his hands, he put the picture in his wallet and slid the camera back into his bag. ‘I’ll tell Liz later, she’ll have a field day if I tell her now.’
He had checked the time once more, and with it now hitting 7:30, hunger pains were bound to strike them soon enough. With no food, the couple (on both fronts) would definitely be angry. 
“:Liz? Hey, Liz, baby?” He had started to shake the sleeping female, which only elicited a groan. “Liz, come on.” Still shaking her, still shaking her, still shaking her.... “Baby, come on. We need to eat.” 
The mention of the food was what caught her attention, and she opened one eye while muttering about food under her breath. “Food?...Mmm, I’m getting up....”
The male deadpanned and watched as she lethargically pulled herself up, making eye contact and smirking just the slightest as she flung the vehicle door open energetically. 
“What the- you weren’t asleep were you?” Liz giggled as she was able to recount the photography moment. The male’s jaw was on the floor, but he trailed after his girlfriend and partook in mutual teasing throughout breakfast. 
...
Eventually the two had to switch out. There was a plan, after all (courtesy of (Y/n)), and they had to keep it going strong if they wanted to make it to their predetermined destination before 2 PM. 
Now, seeing as it was pushing time for the two to leave from breakfast, they had to hurry. Guess whose job it was to drive this time? 
That’s right, Liz’s. And boy, oh boy, was she hesitant. 
That being the case, though....
(Y/n) had taken the liberty of paying, so that left Liz to start the car up. That also left her some time to snag the polaroid and snap a picture or two. So, snag she did.
‘He’ll never know~.’
Either way things worked out, as he left she snapped a picture of him in the sunlight. The wind had been flowing, he was shielding his eyes from the light, and he was fair distance away so the chances that he would suspect she had taken a picture was very low. 
Thought the walk wasn’t that short, she had rummaged around in her bag and hid the camera behind it as the photo processed and came out. When it was out, she had hid it in a compartment in her stuff and grabbed her sunglasses before moving the camera into the blanket in between their stuff. 
Liz, looking posh with her dark sunglasses and pristine white tank top and denim shorts, had noticed the taller male looking at her through the windows of the vehicle.
Fake ogling, ‘aah’ing, and a  raised eyebrow were a result of that. He had encouraged her to strut even more than she already was and was dead set on making his jaw drop on the floor before the end of the night. 
She was already working there, and (Y/n) had burst out laughing when she had opened the door and her smirk lifted into a goofy Grinch face. She eventually broke out into belly laughs after he sent one back at her. 
Yes, little words were exchanged, but the whole scene was refreshing for them (considering they deal with kishins fairly often). 
...
The sun had only gotten brighter as the time had passed by. When they had gotten stopped at a light from time to time, too - well, prime time to listen to her hilarious rants of anger regarding life in general. 
Granted, (Y/n) did the same, but his angry rants never matched up to her’s if they were to pop up out of the blue. 
They had spent a good hour belting along to songs blasting through the speakers as well, and given the chance that (Y/n) had reached behind to the backseat to grab a water bottle, he had also grabbed the camera. 
Though it was becoming a game of back-and-forth with a camera, he wasn’t bothering to hide the fact that he was down to take a picture (or five) of his glowing girlfriend. 
In fact, when she was singing along to some obnoxious road-trip rock, they had been going along a forest road after leaving the city. The trees letting in small glimpses of sun through their branches framed her face perfectly, and the little wisps of hair that had popped out of her ponytail were visible. 
The perfect, aesthetic, and beauty capturing photo of Liz Thompson. A woman he is proud to call his girlfriend. 
As he lifted the camera to the light and took the picture, his nimble fingers froze when Liz peeked over at him and rolled her eyes. (Y/n) let out a short giggle when she looked away and continued belting the notes out of tune. 
A quick snap sound didn’t phase her as she just chuckled and continued on her action as he waved the photo to see it better after it was ejected. 
“You are loving that camera aren’t you, babe?”
“Hmm? Oh, I’m loving the camera? Are you sure you aren’t, princess - cause it definitely loves you.”
“Oh, shut it. I could say the same for you, you loser.”
The laughter that filled the room following the banter was contagious, though that moment allowed it to be reserved for the two of them alone. 
...
Yet again, as lunch began to loom over the two, the sun had continued to beat down upon the couple. They were able to determine that they wouldn’t last much longer without any filling food, as well. 
Yeah, they needed to find a restaurant or rest stop soon, or else their angry rants and singing would become more obnoxious and annoying. The conversations they were having were also beginning to cut themselves a little short. 
That, though, was not going to be allowed throughout the course of the trip. (Y/n) had pointed out where things were as they were nearing a small town en route to their destination. The quickest place to go just so they could maintain time happened to be a small hometown diner. 
It was bustling with life, seeing as it was lunchtime, and people were smiling excitedly over coffee and homemade hamburgers as the couple observed the scene through the window. Liz was pulling into the decently sized parking lot, and as she did so, the male beside her had reached behind him to grab his wallet from his bag. 
The sound of her moving the gear shift to ‘P’ alerted the male as the car stopped. He held his leather wallet in his hand as Liz pulled the keys out of the ignition and tossed them to him - they hit him in the shoulder when he tried to dodge. 
“Oh my Death, what the-”
“You of all people should’ve seen it coming, babe.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I was going to pay for both of our meals, but if you don’t want food, I guess...”
“Fine!”
(Y/n) chuckled at his girlfriend’s antics before opening the car door and leaving the vehicle. Liz pouted and rolled her eyes before doing the same.
While they were walking to the front door, Liz snatched the camera from her boyfriend’s hands and snapped a quick picture of his shocked face before waiting for the photo to come out. He laughed and snagged it right back. 
“Had to get your fill of payback, didn’t ya, princess?”
“Okay, you seriously need to stop calling me that.”
“No can do, princess.”
...
The both of them had been seated by a sweet middle-aged woman who then took their order. She had a huge smile on her face, and (Y/n) was beginning to find it addicting. 
As the woman went back to get their drinks of choice, Liz had sent a look towards her boyfriend after noticing the look that settled on his face. He had a simper that stretched to his eyes as he held the camera up and grabbed her hand that had been resting on the table in front of them.
With a playful glint in his eyes, he raised a question. “So, who’s taking the picture?” As he finished his inquiry, Liz rolled her eyes.
“You really are a romantic, aren’t you?”
“So I guess it’s me, then.”
She let out a snort and gestured to their intertwined hands on the table. “Go ahead, you idiot.”
A calm smile made its way onto the male’s face as he snapped a picture of their hands from above, the light hitting their flesh through shadows that were cast from the condiment bottle set up beside other consumer-used additions. 
They (read: (Y/n)) had continued to snap photos of extra cheesy moments shared between them over lunch.
One photo consisted of Liz, a burger in her one hand and her other reaching to cover the lens. Another consisted of (Y/n) stuffing his face with his food, which Liz found hilarious and couldn’t resist the urge to take a photo of. The final photo in the ever-growing stack of their lunch endeavor was one in which there was a kiss - a short peck on (Y/n)’s cheek on the way out of the establishment. 
As they left the diner, Liz tossed the keys to the towering male and slid into the passenger’s seat as soon as the doors were unlocked. (Y/n) slid the camera to Liz as he entered the vehicle, and she took another picture of him from the seat beside him. 
He just shook his head with a loving smile on his face, watching as she waited in clam delight for the picture to come out so she could see it. He then directed his attention from his girlfriend in the passenger’s side and to the vehicle, turning it on and leaving the lot in favor of the road. 
There wasn’t much more time until they reached their destination.
...
Given the scenario ((Y/n) behind the wheel, Liz holding the camera in the passenger’s seat), it wasn’t shocking when they both went on about their day as they had been - off-key singing and taking charge of the other’s road rage. 
While the upbeat music had continued to play throughout the surrounding speakers, Liz had the polaroid up against the sun. She had snapped a few pictures of the passing skylines through the trees, of the clouds in the sky at just the right angle. And the best ones? Well...
In her mild frenzy of photography, she had snuck multiple photos of the male beside her while he was driving. Some were funny (sometimes catching him pretending to belt out a high note, sometimes catching him holding up a finger to the driver in front or behind them with a disgusted grimace on his face), others were just beautiful. 
His silhouette was outlined by the afternoon sun, his sunglasses glinting in the light, and everything reflected just perfectly. ‘Yeah, I regret nothing.’
“Hey, princess, you done admiring those photos of me you took?”
Liz rolled her eyes at (Y/n) as he smirked at her expression. “You mean your mug? Yeah, right...”
“...mhm, be honest.”
“Fine - yeah, I was. Happy you cocky loser?” Liz uttered sarcastically, a smile sweeping across her features. (Y/n) had a similar joking smirk cross his face as she finished her statement. 
Soon, they reached a stoplight. It was here that Liz snapped another picture of the male and waited for it to eject from the camera as (Y/n) had checked the street signs. 
“Hey, Liz. We’re almost to the peak.” Her ears seemed to perk up at the statement. 
“Really? We’re almost there?” she questioned excitedly, her boyfriend observing her reaction from his peripheral vision. A smirk began to rest itself on his face, and he chuckled just the slightest. 
“Give it a few minutes, okay? If you’re thirsty, we can stop somewhere and get something to drink before we get there so we don’t die of dehydration.” 
Liz rolled her eyes at him, snapping a picture of his overdramatic expression - a hand, positioned on his forehead, in a woeful pose. He let out a chesty laugh after the image was taken and continued on the road to the peak. 
...
Time had seemed to slow down as Liz’s adrenaline started to kick in. She had suggested that they go to the peak, but she wasn’t sure that (Y/n) would agree with the idea. He’d never been the most romantic type, nor had she, but she wanted to try to be. 
It seemed that he wanted to as well, because he had told her what he had originally planned. Liz was ecstatic when she became aware of his romantic sunset-date that he had thought of. 
While the time was starting to get to her, especially after (Y/n) had run in a gas station and picked up something for the two to drink other than warm water. Things did come to a head when they made it to the destination, though.
This image in front of them made the two of them become quiet.
The both of them had only ever imagined what the view would look like, though (Y/n)’s was much more gorgeous than the setting sun in front of them. Liz, lit up by the purple and orange glow of the sun with the shadows of trees behind her acting as a frame, made his cheeks flush and his eyes flash with hearts.
Liz had left the polaroid in the vehicle in her rush, and the male had noticed it. The amount of joy he had when he realized that, had he not grabbed it, this moment couldn’t and wouldn’t be captured was through the roof.
He had to get a picture. Now. So he did.
The sound of the camera shutter drew Liz’s attention away from the rocky, glowing landscape. “What was that for, you loser? You distracted me.”
With a laugh to start, (Y/n) uttered a statement that made her cheeks flush tomato red. “I couldn’t help it, you were glowing. That, and the angle was perfect - you literally made the landscape so much more beautiful.”
Her boyfriend’s words shocked her, but she knew that this wouldn’t last long and her blushing face would be the target of teasing if she didn’t do something. So, she leaned up and kissed him quickly.
He froze at the action, and kept a tight grip on the camera as he stood still. ‘Okay, not happening.’
With almost superhuman speed, he had turned Liz’s body to face him and pressed his lips to hers gently. She had responded quickly, and in the moment, he had taken a picture of their lips intertwined.
The setting sun had made the whole scene take on a purple hue and, as it continued to set, everything throughout the day fell into place. All of the words settled into the chilly night air, their hands seemed to fit together even better than before, and the way that their heartbeats seemed to beat in time got even more synchronized.
The kiss got very passionate, and once the picture was taken, the hand holding it was dropped to the male’s side while his other went up to cup Liz’s cheek. She had a grip on his wrist and her other hand was resting on the back of (Y/n)’s head, and she had begun to push it into the base of his head as the kiss continued.
Before time had picked up, they had pulled away from the other and stared into the other’s eyes. Smiles slid onto their faces, but that was swapped for a look of surprise as Liz snagged the camera and took a picture of (Y/n)’s blushing face.
The fun continued to play out for another minute or so before they reached into the vehicle and set up a small rest spot. Liz had the blanket and pillows they had brought while (Y/n) had the drinks and leftover snacks. 
Five minutes passed as they set up, and the rest of the night passed by with stargazing, constellation games, and more teasing and kisses. 
By the time they had finished their items, their phones indicated the time, and they both packed up and got ready to head home or find a motel to crash at for the night. 
...
Morning had already struck, and Liz was behind the wheel while (Y/n) slept in the passenger’s side seat. His hair hit the headrest in a certain way, the coffee that was sitting in the cupholders halfway empty an indicator of a caffeine crash he had a couple hours back.
‘6:45. Great, it shouldn’t be too much longer until we get back home.’
She smiled lovingly at the (h/c) beside her before redirecting her attention to the road and continuing back to Death City. 
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Text
The enemy of love is the truth
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader
Summary: They were happy just as friends, but one morning the call from an old trauma may change everything.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, history of drug use, mental health issues, cursing, angst.
This one is extremely long but I love the final result, the next chapter will be the end, thank for reading, comments are more than welcome.
■Part I  ■ Part II ■Part III ■ Part IV ■ Part V ■ Part VI■ Part VII ■ Part VIII | Final ■
Part V
"And you didn't kiss, again?" Zawe said, she took a sip from her wine glass and take her hand to her forehead with exasperation. "This has been going on forever now, I'm done, Caroline you take care now"
"Don't look at me, I basically push them together what else can I do? Lock them inside my office? Trust me I have thought about it." The other woman said.
"Excuse me, I'm still here and I can hear you" Y/N said questioning why did she agree to have lunch with them in the first place, however she had chose to only tell them about the invitation to an ex's wedding and the late tea at Tom's flat and not a single thing else "And what does again is supposed to mean?"
"New year two years ago" Caroline started "I was dating that gorgeous Greek guy with the most beautiful abs I have ever seen, and everyone kissed at midnight, and what did you do? You leave the dance floor to go vomit in my bathroom"
"Oysters and champagne don't mix" Y/N said getting red remembering the night "And Stavros was only kind of hot" she add making Caroline sigh with pretend indignation.
"What about january last year?" Zawe continued "Bobby was sick and he was on call for his last movie, and you take a week off to stay at his place to help him out"
"First of all I love that dog, and I did that for him more than for Tom, and second I didn't stayed at his place" She answered knowing pretty well she was lying "I only get there super early and went out late at night, but I would have done that for you guys too"
They continued laughing and talking about nothing in particular, with the subject coming up time to time, they meant well and Y/N knew it, even if they didn't knew the whole story.
"Being honest he is as guilty as you are" Caroline said signaling the waiter to get the check. "Last year on November you were at that gynecology symposium on Madrid, and he acted like he was losing his mind until he got in to a plane to met you there, and what brilliant excuse did he give you? He said he needed a flu shot and don't trust his doctor here, also all those times he had crashed at your apartment are total bullshit I was with him the other night and he didn't have a single drop, and I'm getting tired of helping him pretend he does"
"Oh please stop it already" they were walking towards Zawe's car and she was as amused to find the truth about that obvious lie as she was exasperated by her friends "You are right ok? at least on my side. I have been childish about all of this. But if I'm honest I don't know what could I do? In the end I'm still a general practitioner from a tiny hospital and he is Tom Hiddleston"
"Well darling, he could be the sound engineer of the theater or the Prime Minister himself" Said Zawe once they were inside the car "He still is crazy about you. What you have to do is take the leap, talk about it like adults, go to the bloody wedding and enjoy yourself without thinking of anyone else"
"And for once don't run away like a scared chicken when things get personal" Caroline said happy that she finally was able to acknowledge her feelings.
"Sure... why not? By the way I been meaning to tell you something..."
The conversation fade away in other topics, a few more relevant than others, but Y/N mind was far away in the past thinking of the last time she risked all for him and how tremendously wrong it all have turn out.
They had agree he will pick her up at her place, after the most demanding shift she ever had, she took a quick shower and put on a flowy dress, and her coat, and in an effort to look more decent a pair of earrings.
She was trying desperately to make her makeup work when an alarm went off in her phone, a reminder to make a call and before she could think it trough she was already listening the dial tone, praying for him to don't pick up.
"Hi there" his voice finally said when she was about to hang up "so glad to hear you. It's everything alright?"
"Completely, how about you? Did you change your job as you wanted?" She said, now trapped in the conversation.
"I did, and them I changed it again, that's why you should call people more than once a year, otherwise you never know the full story. What's new with you?"
"I start working part time at a theater, as a personal doctor for the manager" she said getting close to what she wanted to say to him.
"Oh that's great, have you met someone interesting there? Are you dating some gorgeous Shakespearean actor... actress??" He still knew her well enough to make things easy for her to talk about.
"I do, in fact I have a date... soon, it's that ok?" She said the last a bit doubtful, she didn't want to hurt him again.
"That's amazing Y/N" David said sincerely "And relax, is not me who you should be worried about, I want you to be happy, just don't go sabotaging things like you use to. I love you girl, but if I'm honest I think you chose to be miserable even when other people try their best to make you happy"
They talked for another couple minutes and when she finally said goodbye his words kept resonating in her mind, but he was wrong, it was not sabotaging, it was self preservation, like this stupid idea of a date. She was quite sure he was trying to make her feel less ashamed for her drunken advances on him, a nice dinner, some talking so she could go on with her life thinking "It simply didn't work, but he is such a nice man"
And she hated herself for ending up in such pathetic position, thinking of how much fun tom must have had watching her making a fool of herself. She was determined then to call off the date, make a graceful scape before she could embarrassing herself but before she could called him there was a ring at her door.
He was gorgeous of course, his beard as well maintained as always and his hair combed to de back of his head in beautiful waves that she wanted to touch since the first time she saw him. He was wearing a coat over a simple dark grey shirt and jeans.
He smiled fondly at her when he saw her, there were dark circles under her eyes and he thought they looked beautiful, something refreshing about a woman who worked that hard on something that she loved.
Y/N intrigued him, she seemed to live like a mature functioning adult, but there was a childish sparkle in her eyes when she started to talk that made him want to know more about her, but then that ever present hint of sadness always refraining her to talk to much, all of which made her the most interesting puzzle.
"Something in mind you would like to eat?" He asked once they were inside his car, with his tinted windows up, he liked driving alone, but he liked his privacy more and they have proven to be an effective solution.
"Not really, anywhere you pick will be fine" she said smiling and he drove to a nice restaurant, making small talk about work, their mutual friends and the weather.
Once they arrived the valet took his keys and gave her what he thought was a meaningful almost impertinent smile.
"I really need to apologize for my behavior" She started once their food was ordered and the waiter had served them two big glasses of wine "It was inappropriate for me to act like that. I am deeply sorry"
"Don't be, we were all a little drunk. But it was nice talking to you" they ate in silence, other than, what she felt, empty mutual compliments on each others carreras. Proving what she had fear since the night before. Until he finally spoke again "I've been meaning to ask you, did you enjoy the play?"
"Absolutely, Mister Cox and Miss Ashton are outstanding, and you obviously it's an incredible play, all things considered" she said taken aback by the question and cursing herself for the last part.
"What things considered?" He asked now genuinely intrigued.
"Oh I'm sorry, I misspoke, it's something stupid actually" she said nervously trying to avoid his gaze and failing.
"Come on, I'm a big boy, I can take some criticism" he lean back on his chair and open his arms, as if he waited for a punch, his eyes still fix on Y/N.
"Ok, but do notice this is coming from Y/N the feminist doctor who spend her free time protesting and not Y/N the fan of theater and literature." She said finally looking back at him decided "I think somehow it demonizes Emma's betrayal and eventual "punishment" while it glorifies the male ego of the two men. And also Robert Down is a prick"
He opened his mouth slightly surprised and then closed his lips in a thin line and let go a chuckle, with a mild blush crossing his face.
"Auch" He said finally, "Well it's and old play... and he amm of course is not a good person, I guess if you are not familiarized with Pinter's work you may have that kind of conclusion"
He had trouble finding his words to debate her, although he was impressed with her honesty, but since it was a sensible matter he wanted to be clear, however Y/N interpreted as him trying to dismiss her statement and change the subject, which put her one step closer to anger.
"You really are that nice aren't you?" She started, with her voice cold and sharp "And I don't mean it as a compliment, but you are right. I don't know Harold Pinter's work but I do know he is factually wrong, there's no deep intricate meaning behind betrayal, in the end is quite simple, people can't make the choice of remaining truthful either to themselves or the people who they love without being bitches about it. You like to shag around no strings attached fine do that don't complain is it doesn't feel like a home, you want a successful marriage fine forget about any other bloody temptation and be decent. But I guess in the end lies are what keeps people together. Once the truth is out, love dies and so the relationship" he was astonished, however the passion in her voice made him answered to her in a similar tone, changing completely the direction he had imagine for the evening.
"Don't be absurd, that would imply people need to systematically lie in order to keep their relationships, if anything the play is a critique on those precise actions, while normal people try to have loving relationships in honesty, even when sometimes is easier to say a lie. And there's a complete difference between lying to save your arse and conceal your dishonesty, and lying to be socially functional"
"So you never lie?" She asked now completely furious of what she felt was hypocrisy.
"Everybody lies, that's the point, there is a difference in being oblivious on other people's feelings imposing your wrong personal opinions and pretend that's some moral high honesty, and being polite enough to avoid subjects that may hurt others" He said now crossing her arms, pleased with her momentary silence until she start to look for something in her purse trying to hide the hurt in her face.
"Exactly" She said finally putting a couple £50 notes on the table and looking at him with anger in her eyes "Like asking stupid women out so they don't feel like total idiots for hitting on you while they were drunk? That kind of politeness?"
"What?" He said flabbergasted finally rising his voice "That's why you think I asked you out?"
"Oh don't patronize me!" She said also rising her voice and standing up "It must've been so funny, asking a girl who is obsessed with you on a date, what amazingly beautiful act of chivalry. You know what you are? You are an entitled selfish bastard, who gets off on the world worshiping him." She took her purse of the table and put her coat back on, and before leaving she add "And men can't be feminist, you would know that if you read a book on feminist theory instead the glorified misogynistic bastards you adore"
She quickly move away from the table leaving a perplex Tom behind, but before she could exit the restaurant he started following her, reaching her just a couple meters from the valet parking station next to the restauran small planters.
"Oh this is very mature of you" he called her "You owe me an explanation"
"I don't owe you shit" He was close enough so he catch her by her wrist.
"Or at least let me take you home" he said turning her around, she rise her other hand and he prepared his right cheek for what he anticipated will be a slap, but something caught her eye and instead and she took her hand to her ear and to his surprise she change her voice to a high pitch whining, causing him to let her go.
"Oh whe is it? Where did I leave it? It must have fallen here" she started looking for something in the planters and kneeling near the fence.
"Are you having a stroke?" He asked getting down to her level "what are you looking for?"
"There's a guy with a camera hiding behind a car two meters from you" she said rapidly in a whisper, she quickly put one of her earrings in his hand and said: "Follow my lead, don't look back. Stand up now"
He did as she told him and they stand up, he was still holding the earring in his hand when she took it smiling wide, and putting it back on, and then for his surprise hugging him.
"Smile, get back inside, go to the bar, order a drink and then come back and ask for your car" she said using the proximity to whisper in his ear.
"Why?" He asked and the breaking the contact.
"Just trust me" she said between her teeth and smiling again. He returned the smile and nodded, going back in completely clueless of what was happening, in inside corner of his eye he could see the man with the camera.
He order a glass of wine, but he barely even touch it, the ten minutes he waited felt like eternity and finally he exited the place again. He give the ticket to the valet. The young man went for it immediately and he couldn't help to feel observed. When his car finally arrived and he tried to tip him the guy simply said "it's taken care of, drive safe" He nodded and get in his car not surprised to see Y/N already in the passenger seat.
He drove off and once they were a couple blocks away they looked at each other, and before anyone could talk they started laughing hysterically but it also felt cathartic.
"Care to explain what happened love?" He asked now back to his normal tone "Did you break into my car?"
"Of course not, Philip amm... the valet guy, he works half time as a medical assistant in my hospital. A couple weeks ago he told me that sometimes the waiters of that restaurant call the papers to get scoops on celebrities, and I assumed you didn't want my stupid tantrum in the first page tomorrow"
"Well no, but at least I'm glad you admit it was a tantrum. Can I know what happened?"
"Oh, the guy with the camera come asking me why you were chasing after me, I told him I made a scene in the restaurant because I couldn't find my late grandmother earrings and this handsome" She said exaggerating an innocent voice "who I didn't catch his name, help me found it, then I texted Philip to let me get inside your car, because I supposed he will be waiting for you to come out"
"That's amazing and clever" he said genuinely impressed by her story "But I meant at the restaurant"
"Oh... I had a terrible day, and I leashed out on you" she said turning red. "I am really sorry, you are not an entitled bastard, and everything I said... it was just out of place. I completely respect your acting, and I shouldn't have expressed myself that way" she apologized for all the things she have said without him interrupting her while he drive back to her place.
"Don't worry about it" he said finally smiling at Y/N again with the most candid smile he had given her yet "I'm sure other people have called me worst, just not to my face, and I do appreciate your honesty. Just one thing." He said parking the car at her door. "That's not why I asked out, and I apologize because I didn't make my intentions clear in the beginning. Nevertheless this was a fun experience"
"Said that again" she said without thinking.
"This was really fun I actually enjoyed your company..."
"No, that word 'nevertheless' sounds way more powerful when you say it."
"Nevertheless?" He said getting out of the car.
"Yeah, I actually have a tattoo that says nevertheless she persisted" she started playing with her keys in her doorway, looking pleased by the interest he show on that detail.
"You do go out protesting huh?" He said taking one step closer.
"I do, and I'm really sorry again" she said looking away and finally putting the keys in the lock.
"And again it's nothing really, so now... am I'll guess..."
"I'll see you around" she said, he kissed her on the cheek and she entered her flat, wishing to forget everything about that day.
By the time she was back at the theater next day, she was hoping to leave all behind, but everyone seemed to be obsessed with Tom's random act of kindness to a stranger that thank goodness the camera hadn't focused well.
She chose to hide inside her office the rest of the night until by the time she assumed everyone will be leaving someone knocked on her door, she opened thinking Caroline may be needing something, but she was surprised when she saw Tom standing there.
"Today it's my birthday, and we are going to celebrate, would you like to come by? I can't help to remind how you called Charlie and Zawe mister and miss, and I think they would like you" he said passing his fingers trough his hair distractedly.
"I know, yeah I would love too" She said immediately "But first, please come in, I... um... I actually got you something, it's a birthday present and also a peace offering for the way I acted yesterday" She went to her desk with him following behind her. She took something from the drawer "You are an amazing Robert, and I know you like to research your characters, I mean you probably have read this already but I thought you might like it" she give him a neatly wrapped brown package with a nice blue ribbon on top.
He opened unceremoniously with a child like expressions, touched by her gesture. And he opened his mouth in excitement and disbelief when he saw the book inside.
The Wild Swans at Coole. Other Verses and a Play in Verse. YEATS, W. B.
"Is this a...?"
"A signed original edition, yes." She said happy "I assume you have many of this but I couldn't think of anything else to give you"
"It's perfect actually" he said already carefully opening the book "This is too much, thank you"
"Your welcome" she took her purse and stand up ready to leave. "So where are we going?"
"Right right" He said standing up too. "You are gonna love this guys".
That had been the end of their would be romance and also the beginning of their friendship, but while Y/N tried on one of the multiple dresses Zewe had chosen for her the idea of trying again started to look less and less crazy, her plan was already in motion, she only hoped now that he would feel the same, and even more important than that, she prayed she wouldn't loose him in case he didn't.
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wings-of-a-storm · 5 years
Text
Alright, I am back with the remainder of my thoughts on Lucas’ and Eliott’s first meeting! This time looking at Clip 7: their first conversation.
Here I mostly ponder: - Lucas approaching Eliott: a study in art - Lucas' almost painful vulnerability - How Lucas and Eliott met in the middle (Edit: Woah, it’s like Polaris!) - The ways Eliott differs to Even (and how his gentleness will be the end of me) - How tightly guarded Lucas is with people - including Eliott for now - The different vibe characters bring to scenes: how Eliott’s personality made the three’s-a-crowd moment feel more subtle - Chloé and Eliott at the altar of Lucas Lallemant
LUCAS APPROACHING ELIOTT: A STUDY IN ART
The way Lucas just freezes at the bus stop when he realises Eliott’s right there, alone, by the vending machine… Oh my heart.
A new infatuation comes with plenty of emotions. Sometimes there is a passionate zeal, but sometimes there is crippling uncertainty and insecurity. It makes the direct contrast between Player Lucas’ confidence with Chloé and Real Lucas’ muteness around Eliott all the more powerful. It is obviously easier to hit on someone when you have nothing emotionally at stake or any real interest. When you do have actual feelings at stake though…
Standing by the bus stop, Lucas has a chance, an opportunity to talk to this guy who has absolutely captivated him. He could just walk away and forget anything ever happened to him in that meeting, or he can just…try and talk to him. Just to see. And hats off to Lucas, because even though he looks so unsure and scared, he visibly steels himself and chooses the harder option so that he will never regret it.
I am just in awe of Lucas right now, because wow, in this version of SKAM, our closeted boy made the first move.
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It is just so wonderful (and super sweet) that even though Lucas is so confused by his feelings (and probably scared of them too), he just can’t not approach Eliott. He has a real need to see what Eliott is like to talk to. To know what he is like as a person. To be able to look at those eyes again up close. To hear what his voice sounds like. To just…explore who this guy is.
Yet the first step of approaching Eliott by the vending machine is all Lucas can muster. Eliott is right there in front of him but he can’t shake that muteness to start up a conversation. He doesn’t know what to do or what to say, he just wants to be near Eliott so he just…hovers. And watches him -- always with the watching. (Little does he know Eliott has been feeling the same way.)
LUCAS AND ELIOTT: MEETING IN THE MIDDLE (EDIT: Well, hello there Polaris. Looks like this section suddenly became more significant than I realised...)
It feels special that Lucas makes the first move to approach Eliott while Eliott is the one who makes the first move to initiate conversation. It is like they met in the middle.
Eliott has known about Lucas for three weeks but hadn’t been able to steel himself to approach him. Lucas inadvertently took this step for both of them when he approached Eliott at the vending machine. As inadvertent as it was, it feels like Lucas helped Eliott there.
Meanwhile, after discovering Eliott’s existence, Lucas couldn’t find a voice (literally) to start a conversation with him. So Eliott inadvertently helped Lucas by being the one to both initiate and lead the conversations between them at the vending machine and bus stop. Eliott didn’t realise it, but he was really helping Lucas out there.
Separately they couldn’t get what they needed, but through inadvertent teamwork, they succeeded. It’s so beautiful!
(EDIT:  Okay so Eliott’s Polaris film idea is that two lovers meet in the middle (or at the border of their worlds). Meeting in the middle must definitely be a theme that they are exploring in the show and they seem to have started it early. I am so excited to see how it develops further!)
LUCAS’ FIRST STEPS
My favourite part of the whole clip though is actually the process of Lucas approaching Eliott -- how he slowly turns the corner of the bus shelter while peeking around it... It is such a soft moment, and the vulnerability and tentativeness of each footstep feels so fragile! I want to hold my breath so I don’t disturb this very delicate thing happening.
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Lucas is just so unsure and yet yearning so much. Each slow, tiny step he takes feel like a wonder. Accompanied by the soft, tentative piano composition, it is just too much for me. I think it is so effective because of the confident front we are so used to Lucas displaying. This level of vulnerability feels so painful to watch in comparison.
A MUTUAL VULNERABILITY
If Lucas has one brand of vulnerability (muteness, shall we call it), then as soon as we get to see Eliott’s face and body language at the vending machine, we witness another brand of vulnerability (for now, let’s call it anxiety). How can one man look so vulnerable in front of a vending machine! The way he is running his fingers over his lip doesn’t feel like simple indecisiveness, more like a low-level anxiety over making the right decision. Is our Eliott an over-thinker? If so what a parallel to Lucas right now who is also deep in thought over Eliott’s shoulder.
It’s so freakin’ adorable when Eliott senses someone waiting nearby and then panics for a split second when he turns and realises it is his crush. And then sort of straightens himself out into a cooler version of himself. (But still with that self-deprecating grimace/chuckle at his inability to make a simple decision.)
But he doesn’t look cool so much as SOFT! The way he hunches over his money and sorts through it so earnestly!
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I mean...
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What a time to be alive for Eliott though! His crush is actually standing right there, looking at him, with none of his friends around. Eliott’s mind must have been thinking overtime on how he can capitalise on that and prolong their interaction. So he goes in to buy a second bar, and it is so obvious that it is his plan to try and get Lucas to hang out with him because he is suddenly all nerves again – he forgets the chill vibe and can’t stand still and his hands fly over to his mouth again in that nervous tic.
What he doesn’t realise is that Lucas is just as nervous: Lucas can easily recommend a museli bar to Eliott but as soon as Eliott’s full attention diverts to him, he reverts back to: Can’t. Speak. Too. Overwhelmed. Send. Help. (With these two It’s really a case of the blind leading the blind, eh!)
And then the expression on Lucas’ face when he gets propositioned by Eliott to hang out (which is basically what he had been wanting all along) without having to do anything or even say anything was like: “Well, that happened.” He is almost in a daze. It’s such a far cry from the Lucas who blew weed into Chloé’s mouth without skipping a beat…
I am such a wreck from Lucas’ vulnerability!
A WHOLESOME INTERACTION
We need to talk about Eliott’s vibe compared to Even’s during that proposition though. The Coolness of Even in the bathroom with the paper towels cannot be understated. And he was able to maintain that Coolness the whole time, despite the ridiculousness of what he was doing. Smooth af, man, smooth af. Eliott, on the other hand, is someone who looks trademark Cool at first glance, but whose Softness just completely overflows when you get closer. His “Oh, did you want one? Sorry ‘bout it” joke has all the hallmarks of a smooth line, but that adorable grin takes all the bite out of it.
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And then Eliott goes one step further and reveals that he bought the second bar with Lucas in mind. Um, is that not the sweetest gesture? Lucas, this boy just met you (LOL) and bought you food because he wishes to spend more time with you. That is peak Softness and how are you even functioning right now?
Oh wait, you’re not.
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Seriously though, how wholesome was that entire interaction? Eliott buys a snack to bribe Lucas instead of using the obvious weed draw-card sitting behind his ear. You’re in safe hands, Lucas. (It was weed, right?)
Of course then it cuts to them at the bus stop and we can see that despite the invitation coup, Lucas is still Mute! All he can do is just starrrrrre at Eliott in peak Shook. I really can’t handle how adorable that is! What exactly will it take for Lucas to be more chill and grounded?
And then of course when he is able to function again, he pulls this face:
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We understand, Lucas.
AN INSIGHT INTO LUCAS
As cute as all the muteness is, we need to talk about something else: the fact that Lucas not once offered up any information about himself to Eliott. No name, no grade, no L/ES/S, even though he had several chances to reciprocate.
Eliott is so warm and open with Lucas, so very happy to divulge information so that Lucas can know all about him and *sobs* be his friend. If he had a CV on hand, I’m sure he’d have tried to hand that over to Lucas too. (Boy is begging to be stalked on social media. EDIT: Or on his class register XD)
Lucas obviously wants to spend time with Eliott too, otherwise he wouldn’t have swallowed his nerves to go up to him in the first place. So why did he ignore the unspoken invitation to reciprocate the most typical, basic getting-to-know-you stuff with Eliott? His grade and subject choice aren’t exactly super personal details even if his name is. It is so sad that he is so closed off even with the little things.
Is he still so fearful of his attraction to Eliott that he needs to keep the most basic parts of his identity close to his chest/safe, to remain in control of his identity? The poor guy… (Though to be fair, Lucas did only just know of Eliott’s existence an hour ago so he is still processing everything, including whether it is safe to divulge anything to Eliott.)
AN INSIGHT INTO ELIOTT
Speaking of identity – was it just me or was Eliott’s joke about Lucas thinking him weird a clever little layering for what is to come (since we already know about Eliott’s secret). Or rather, a clever little insight into the insecurity that Eliott must feel about himself to even insert himself into the ‘weird’ joke like that… Hmm. We’ll see.
SANDBAGGING CHLOE
I also just really wanted to give special mention to Eliott for sandbagging Chloé at the bus stop. I already mentioned my amusement in another post, but I may as well include it here too. It was just so brilliant that Eliott had just been opining the value of the common room to a sceptical Lucas, and insisting on how great it is to meet new people through it… But the second a new person comes over to them (from that meeting and everything), he couldn’t care less. He just gives Chloé a mandatory smile and greeting and offers nothing else until further prompted. I mean, what were you saying earlier, Eliott? (You have to love him.)
THE ALTAR OF LUCAS
Also a special shout out this piece of framing, otherwise known as The Disciples at the Altar of Lucas Lallemant. Our son has zero idea just how desperately everyone at that bus stop wants to be his friend and more.
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It’s actually really cute how everyone is silent and just gazing at Lucas, waiting for him to do something. Because all Eliott and Chloé care about is Lucas – what he is doing, what he is thinking, what he might end up saying. It’s almost painful how happy they both are just to be spending this time with him. While Lucas has no real clue and is giving them nothing.
Poor Lucas though, being hit by those duel stares with the full force of an angel and a demon. (No offence to Chloé, but you know, she stresses Lucas out even though it’s his own doing.)
Actually poor Chloé too – she was trying so hard to use Eliott’s weed to jog Lucas’ memory about their weekend weed kiss but he ignored it.
Okay fine, while I am at it, poor Eliott as well for having his dreams come true (being able to talk to Lucas alone) only to have it snatched away so soon by a third party.
Being at this altar is hard. ;)
ELIOTT WITH CHLOE: A NEW VIBE
It has been quite interesting to see the changes that new characters bring to og scenes. With different people/personalities (because no one person is the same as someone else), different vibes come to the fore. I found this whole bus stop scene a more subtle experience than the og bench scene, and it’s mostly to do with Eliott’s personality.
In og, that bench awkwardness was so palpable. Obviously you could feel how uncomfortable Isak was, but you could also feel how put out Even was by their third wheel. He actually frowned when Emma came along and flat-out started to reject her with the ‘We’re supposed to be in pairs’ (before softening it).
Eliott was different. Because of his go-to safety net – sweetly smiling – he gives off the vibe that he is just a happy, open person who is good-natured with everyone. It is much harder to tell that he was bothered by Chloé’s sudden presence. He just looked like anyone who is faced with a new person they don’t know – politely wary and just waiting for an introduction.
The signs he doesn’t want Chloé there are more subtle than Even’s – like not volunteering his name after she introduced herself until prompted further, and directing answers to her questions back to Lucas to show where his priorities lay (including the ‘weird’ in-joke, because even though they’ve only spoken for a few minutes, they already have an in-joke. Hah).
But Eliott is just so goddamn gentle! If I were Lucas, I’d think that Eliott was just a little shy with Chloé but totally fine with meeting her and going with the flow – as opposed to mutually wanting her to leave them in peace.
So yeh, as the camera panned away, it kind of felt like three acquaintances chilling at a bus stop, running out of things to talk about. In the og, I definitely felt the tension of ‘ughhh why are you ruining this, Emma’ from both the boys a bit more. (That is more of an observation than a complaint, because I do like how sweet Eliott is with people. For now at least. Gosh, now I am so curious to see how he snaps at a certain character yet to be introduced. I can’t picture it!)
SAY MY NAME, SAY MY NAME~
But before I leave this bus stop scene there is just one more thing I need to bring up…
Did our dear Lucas sandbag Eliott at the end there? Eliott was so determined for Lucas to know his name – he told it to Chloé, but he gave it to Lucas. Just in case Lucas wasn’t aware of the import of this information. Just in case he had zoned out and missed this scoop. And Lucas just nodded and looked away as if he gave no f’s. He didn’t even do the polite thing and return the favour. Total ouch!
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Okay Eliott buddy, the bad news is that Lucas pretended not to care. The good news is: he knows your name now! (Well, half of it. Good luck finding anything without his surname, Lucas. EDIT: WOW THE NEW CLIP JUST CAME OUT OF LUCAS HUNTING THROUGH THE L REGISTER AND WHAT A DESPERATE GENIUS. I STAN.)
With that lack of name reciprocation, I am just going to assume again that Lucas is still not ready to show any of his cards while he is processing everything. And it might feel safer for him to act unaffected by Eliott, especially with Chloé sitting right there, reminding him that he has that old curated persona to maintain.
I am also going to assume that Eliott didn’t take it personally and figures at least the ice is broken now. (I say that as if Eliott doesn’t already know Lucas’ name – which he probably does – but it’s the principle of the matter!)
BUILDING A BONFIRE
It’s not very gracious of me, but I can’t help but end this thought-dump with a metaphorical bonfire that I can throw the music soundtrack onto. I just...could not gel with that last song that ruined the flow took us into the credits. It felt like suddenly I was in an 80s superhero movie. I don’t mind some synth but yikes what was that? It didn’t fit the mood for me at all. And I am not just saying that because it is an indie instrumental – Skam Italia used that type of soundtrack brilliantly to complement scenes. So yeh, I’m not sure why that song was picked but I hope it is just an outlier…?
Alright guys, thanks for reading (if you made it this far!) Until next time. <3
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karmangier · 5 years
Text
Two Men’s Talk
Shoutout to my awesome betas @fatwithoutkatsudon and Charlie (who’s not on Tumblr) !
[This 1780-word little fic supports the theory that in ep10 Yuuri bought one ring and then Victor bought the other matching one before their engagement scene]
“It’s almost like a marriage proposal.”
4:30 am. Yuuri turned off his phone screen and sighed in his head. He had been awake for one and a half hours and it was time to give up on forcing himself back to sleep. By his side, Victor’s breath sounded steady. Through dim moonlight permeating from the curtain, Yuuri could see the outline of Makkachin on the tatami, slightly rising up and then falling down in a similarly steady rhythm.
A few days had passed since the Rostelecom Cup, though the scene of their little reunion in the airport had been replaying over and over again in his head tonight. Yuuri was pretty sure it had nothing to do with jet lag.
He managed to stretch one leg out until it touched the floor, then slipped the rest of his body out from the blanket. Neither the Russian nor the poodle moved. Yuuri quietly slid the door open and closed it behind his back without making any sound. He walked downstairs to the hallway that connected to the yard, and opened the sliding door.
It was still completely dark outside. Yuuri was not sure if he could call it morning yet. He stared at the moon and got lost in its faint light, until he heard quiet footsteps approaching.
Yuuri turned around. It was Toshiya standing in the hallway, still in his pajamas. “You are early today.” Toshiya said with a yawn that he failed to hold back.
“Sorry did I wake you--”
“No it’s fine. I wake up early these days.”
The two stood in the hallway, gazing at the clear night sky without saying anything for a little while. November’s early morning coldness breezed by. Yuuri started to worry that his father might get too cold.
Finally, Toshiya broke the silence: “It’s cold. Come in and drink with me.”
“Whaaat???” Yuuri almost shouted from surprise, “It’s not even 5am in the morning dad!” Plus, you are not good at drinking at all, he said in heart.
“I just thought…you may want to talk. we haven’t had too much time to chat with each other recently… ” Toshiya smiled with slight embarrassment, “what’s the last time we drank together? The New Year? No… that was with Mari…”
Yuuri frowned. He did not need to think too hard on the answer to this question. Yuuri and his father had never drunk together. Five years ago when he left home for Detroit, he was not even at the drinking age. Yuuri tried to think of the last time he and Toshiya had a private time together, but his memory was clouded by skating and other more important stuff. Obviously more important than father-son moments.  
Toshiya had already started walking towards the living room. Yuuri slid the door to the yard closed and followed him half reluctantly. During his Detroit years, Hiroko chatted with him on a video call every week, while Toshiya was always there as part of the background, watching tv or reading newspapers, most of the time not saying anything. But for some reason Yuuri felt that his father was actually listening to their conversations, perhaps because he was always able to smile at the right time.
By the time Yuuri entered the living room, he saw a sake bottle bathing in a bowl, from which hot steam was slowly rising and diffusing in the air. Along with it stood two tiny pretty sake cups and a small plate of edamame. It was hard for yuuri to believe this was not prepared. Toshiya walked back from the kitchen and sat cross-legged by the table.
Yuuri sat down on his knees. Neither of them talked. Yuuri watched Toshiya serve himself and empty a few cups in silence. Yuuri felt a little bit uncomfortable. After coming back in April, he spent most of the time training with Victor, while at home Hiroko and Mari were the two who usually talked to him. He couldn’t even think of a time when he had a real conversation with Toshiya. Yuuri reached out for some edamame. What should he say?
“You really like him.”  Having emptied another cup, Toshiya broke the silence without looking at his son. Yuuri blushed, looking at the empty edamame shells on his side. Toshiya continued: “But you have been like that for years. I just had never thought you two would be a loving couple.”
Yuuri did not know what to say, so he filled his cup and emptied it in one gulp. Now he had the excuse for blushing like a goddamn tomato. Dizziness struck him. He had not had much sake before, only that one time in middle school when Nishigori stole half a bottle from his father and forced Yuuri to take a sip.
It was so weird that even though their kiss had been streamed internationally, and even though the whole family knew that they now slept in the same room, it was still embarrassing to discuss their relationship with his own father.
“And he seems to really like you as well.”
Yuuri had to turn his head away to hide his burning face. Also partially because he wanted to conceal a smile that he could not control for some reason.
Toshiya’s face was also red from the sake. “I-I also re-really like her.” He broke into a shy smile. “Your mom.” He added, staring at his cup. “When we first met --”
Yuuri now was pretty sure the sake had affected his father. His dad really was not good at drinking, especially now when they both had empty stomachs. It was the same old story that Yuuri had heard hundreds of times. Hiroko had worked in a bento shop and a young man with glasses bought 7 katsudons in 3 consecutive days. However, all the times he heard it, it came from his mother, usually with warm teasing. It was the first time his father talked about his version - though nothing was particularly different from what Yuuri had previously heard.
“So -- what will you do next?”
Yuuri had been lost in thoughts and busy with peeling edamame. He answered with confusion: “I, em-- I will keep training until the Grand Prix Final--”
“No -- I mean, you -- you and Victor.” Toshiya burped a little bit. Now he had to lean against the table to maintain his posture.
Yuuri looked at his drunk father in great surprise. How did he -- his father who had always been quiet in the background --  see right through him?
“I -- I haven’t thought much about it.” Yuuri stared at the corner of the table. This was purely a lie. It was almost like a marriage proposal -- Victor’s words had been hovering over his head ever since that day. He had imagined thousands of scenarios while walking, skating, sitting by the side of Victor at the dinner table and in sleepless nights. He, however, might never know how to -- would it be weird if he’s the one who initiates it? Or even in the first place, he would probably never have the courage to --
“Co - courage.” Toshiya interrupted Yuuri’s musing as if he could read his son’s mind. “You have it, in your name, Yuuri. You — you are so brave on ice… if you have something in mind… just - just do it. You don’t have to think too much…”
Toshiya chugged more sake in the next few quiet minutes. “I really like her.” Toshiya resumed his monologue as Yuuri was permanently staring at the table. He looked up at the ceiling and smiled: “Like, re - really. One day I - I finally made up my mind. I took her to that, that jewelry store under the castle. I pi-picked the most expensive ring that I could afford -- I was po-poor, like, no money…”
Now Yuuri had to listen with special attention. It was a new piece of story that neither of his parents had told before. “I was freaking out because it was only one, one ring… I couldn’t afford... You know, not a pair... so I was taking a b-bet. But, but! You know wh - what’s her reaction?” Toshiya stared at Yuuri, but his gaze was rather aimless.
“What happened?” Yuuri asked with great curiosity. A ridiculous thought that he should grab a pen and a notepad flashed by.
“Then she b-bought a ring as well! The same one! Fo-for me!” Toshiya said as his blushing cheeks seemed rather shining. He was shaking in excitement, lost in his precious memory. “We exchanged rings under the castle! It’s -- better than I bought two rings... It, it doesn’t feel like I - I was the sole one proposing -- we, we proposed to each other! She felt the same about me! I - I knew, knew it… somehow. It’s all -- so, so equal… so beautiful… so good… we love each other… It’s m-mutual… mutual… So much…”
Toshiya rested his head in his arms on the table. Yuuri heard snores in less than a second. He is so drunk, Yuuri thought, staring at his father’s messy morning hair and suddenly realizing where his own came from. He probably would not remember anything in the morning.
***
Having heard Yuuri walking downstairs and waited for a few minutes, Victor jumped out of bed, grabbed his phone and then walked on his toes across the room. Makkachin did not move a inch as Victor passed by her. Victor entered the bathroom and closed the door.
“Chris, I can’t sleep it’s been hovering over my head the whole night. I have to ask you about something.”
“What happened sweetie? Did you have a fight with Yuu-- ”
“No. Chris. Nothing like that. It’s just -- I have some ideas — about, er, a proposal, for marriage. I’d like to hear your thoughts on it.”
“Wow. But I haven’t bought my best man’s suit!”
“It’s just a thought.”
“When are you --”
“Chris, please, I’ve been thinking about this the whole night. No, not just tonight, since the Rostelecom Cup -- Please Chris, a romantic man like you, must have some good suggestions —“
“Alright, well, go ahead.”
“I’ve been thinking -- matching rings, better to be golden, in front of a church, would be awesome if there is a choir, just after sunset, maybe snowing a little bit…? Hey are you still there? What do you think?”
“Fascinating. I’m calling an uber to the mall now. It’s urgent. Shopping for the best suit in my life takes time, darling.”
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feminarrie · 5 years
Text
under the same moon - one
a/n: we are back with the first chapter, friends! the chapter is just a tad over 2.7k and a whole lot of fluff. 
please let me know what you think and if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 
banner credit ⇢ @booksncoffee
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Hanna’s hips ache with every step that she takes into her shared two bedroom apartment. A telltale sign that the fatigue and jet lag have begun to take up their extended residency in her bones. Another yawn escapes her as she sets her luggage next to her bedroom door. She’ll get to unpacking later, she tells herself. A short nap is much higher on her list of priorities for the day.
She doesn’t even bother to change out of her clothes. Simply tugs her black leggings down her legs, kicking them off with her left foot and leaving them to pool somewhere near her laundry basket. There’s no need to remove her bra after having decided to go without it beneath her oversized hoodie. The plain forest green hoodie had been the best and cleanest choice for the long plane ride home.
After pushing her throw blanket to the side of her queen bed, Hanna is kneeing her way up the length of it before dropping the upper half of her body to the mattress. The blankets smell like the laundry detergent used to wash them and the vanilla reed defuser that sits on her bedside table. And it has Hanna’s eyes drooping the moment her head hits the pillow, long mahogany hair fanning around her.
She’s nearly asleep after just a few seconds, but manages to muster up enough energy to retrieve her phone from the pocket of her sweatshirt. Setting an alarm to get up is the responsible thing to do even though the mere thought of waking up sets Hanna’s lower lip into a pout. But, with classes starting in almost two weeks and a fifteen page paper due for her interim course, she doesn’t exactly have time to waste. 
After checking that the clock read exactly noon, she sets an alarm to go off in two and a half hours. Perhaps she will wake up groggy and annoyed, but she has an inkling that waking up at any point will leave her just the same. Hanna tosses the device on her bedside table and not even five minutes later is she snoring beneath the quilted fabric of her comforter. 
.     .     .     .     .     .     .     .     .     .     .
Hanna wakes up to a wash of light purples and reds that paint her white walls a muted version of the colors. She can feel a stiffness in her neck as she shifts to her back on the bed and her face scrunches up with the discomfort. Hanna already knows that she has slept well past her alarm, but she can’t bring herself to care. She feels far too well rested and surely that can’t be a bad thing. If anything, it should make her much more productive. 
She pushes herself to sit up, pressing her back to pillows and leaning her head against the wall behind her. Her hand rises to cup the junction between her throat and neck, rolling her neck to relieve the tension. The other hand reaches for the phone that has shifted toward the edge of the table with the vibrations that accompanied her alarm. 
After turning off the do not disturb feature, her phone is flooded with notifications. She checks her voicemail first, seeing two separate calls from her mother and father. 
“Hi, Hanna. I’m glad you are home. Please give your mother and I a call when you’ve settled back in. Love you, kiddo.” 
“Iha. Call me when you are able to. I love you.”
They are both simple messages, but it has been more than two weeks since Hanna had heard the voice of her parents. Her mother’s silvery tone fills her with warmth and her dad’s sparks a yearning to be home that, in reality, always resides just below the surface. She holds off on calling them back, though. She hardly thinks that calling them at 5:36am on a Saturday is a good idea. Instead, she figures calling them after she has unpacked and begun settling back in would be much better.
She continues to look through her notifications. She reads through missed text messages from the group chat she has with Imogen, Tyler, and Sonam. It is an assortment of half finished thoughts, capital letters, and promises to go out the first week they are all back. (Hanna misses them something fierce. She absolutely cannot wait until Imogen returns to their shared apartment and Tyler and Sonam essentially move themselves in alongside her). 
Hanna types out a quick message to let them know she may or may not have slept for over twelve hours before switching to her social media accounts. Twitter has hardly anything new to offer after she had spent the better part of the flight scrolling through it, but Instagram is littered with likes and comments on her most recent picture. 
She scrolls through the notifications, reading each comment and liking the few that are from friends. There are even a few direct messages that have gone stale in her inbox after having been sent more than a week ago. But, there is one that was sent shortly after she had posted a picture of her arrival at LAX. 
niallhoran: you left so soon ! wish i would’ve known. i could’ve shown you the real sights to see in london. 
niallhoran: sorry if that sounded creepy at all, didn’t mean it if it did !! 
Hanna laughs quietly to herself at Niall’s messages. She hardly thinks that he sounded creepy, but she is not above engaging in some light teasing. 
hannarey: might’ve been a little more than creepy
hannarey: lmao i'm kidding! sorry i didn’t let you know when you dropped me off. i would’ve liked that. 
She doesn’t really expect a response right away, but her phone vibrates with a message only a few moments later. 
niallhoran: shit, sorry! but, would’ve liked to have gotten to know you better.
And Hanna doesn’t know it, but Niall is nibbling at his lower lip as he types out each message. She makes him more nervous than he can even describe and it’s almost embarrassing. Especially when Liam comes in, hair wild after his lie-in and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, asking him why he looks so pensive. (Really, Liam asks why he looks so constipated). 
“Remember those two American girls that we had over?” Niall asks, glancing away from his phone for the first time.
“Hanna and Ira, yeah.” Liam nods as he moves to make himself a cup of tea, raising his mug as if to ask Niall if he would like his own.
Niall nods silently before continuing, “I was thinking about asking Hanna ‘round, but she’s back in the states, I guess.” 
The disappointment that sticks to every syllable is impossible to miss. Niall had felt that they had hit it off pretty well while Ira and Liam slept. He learned quite a bit about her love for literature and how she sometimes worried that working in the field would diminish her passion for it. She supplemented those vulnerable moments with retellings of fun nights out with her core group of friends. 
And Niall had been just as forthcoming with his own stories. He had told her of the year that he had taken off to travel around Europe because he had never left Ireland before then. He even allowed himself to delve into the insecurities that still plague him despite the fact that he has been offered more than one position as a producer following graduation. 
“Oh,” Liam doesn’t sound all that bothered, but he knows that the pair had grown closer in the few hours that they had known each other. “Did you at least manage to get her Instagram or something?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I messaged her just a little bit ago.” Niall says, glancing back to his phone to see that Hanna had messaged him back.
hannarey: sorry! could message me on whatsapp or whatever, if you’ve got it. 
hannarey: look who’s being creepy now. oops. 
A broad smile tugs at the corner of Niall’s lips when he reads it. He sends her a short message with his information for the app. His thumb hovers over the screen as he contemplates sending her his contact information for Skype. The screen name is typed out, but the digit circles momentarily. He squeezes his eyes shut after an internal pep talk and presses send. Thinks that it would be a bummer if she is put off by it, but he figures that it is the worst thing that could happen. 
hannarey: a little forward, aren’t we? kidding, i’ll add you in just a second!
True to her word, Niall receives a notification from Hanna a few minutes later. He receives another one shortly thereafter, but it comes from WhatsApp. He accepts both before typing out a greeting on the latter application. 
“Then it’s going well, I take it?” Liam chortles, having come back into the living room to offer Niall his cup of tea. 
“Thanks,” Niall says, typing a message with one hand and accepting the hot mug with the other. “Mhm. She asked me for my contact information.” 
He hopes, at the very least, that Hanna’s forwardness is indicative of their mutual enjoyment of each other’s company. Especially because Niall has never once connected with someone as quickly as he had with her. She emanated a warmth and sense of reprieve from the demands of everyday life. Even with five and a half thousand miles between them, the feeling envelopes Niall. And that has to mean something. 
.     .     .     .     .     .     .     .     .     .     .
Hours later, Hanna and Niall have maintained fairly consistent conversations. They are only ever interrupted by Hanna’s unpacking, a long call with her parents, and Niall’s short trip to do some food shopping. It was easy to fall in and out of conversation with one another. Neither bothered by periods of absences, but equally as thrilled to see a message light up their respective phones. 
However, Niall’s eyelids begin to droop as the time easily slides toward a quarter past one in the morning. He is already beneath the deep gray and navy blue duvet cover on his bed, his head cradled by two flat pillows that sit one on top of the other. His bedside lamp and the dull glow of his phone are the only things to illuminate the room. 
He almost feels too tired to continue talking with Hanna despite the fact that their conversation has strayed far away from anything interesting. Hanna is only telling him about her plans to stay in for the remainder of the night. He could practically see the pout on her face when she had grumbled about being bored without the company of her friends. And the conversation hadn’t moved much further than that. Partially due to the short responses on Niall’s behalf, his body finally fatiguing after fighting off his exhaustion for the last few hours. 
But, Niall really doesn't want to stop messaging Hanna. Even with his thoughts becoming incoherent and thumbs hovering over the keyboard as he attempts to configure an appropriate response. And he knows sleep is far more important than staying up late to talk to some girl over five thousand miles away. But, he has an inkling that Hanna isn’t just some girl. 
Especially when she is the one offering to video chat with him, if he’s comfortable with doing so, after he had insisted he was exhausted but would fight it a little longer just to keep talking. 
Niall is greeted by a cream colored wall adorned with various different types of framed artwork. Hanna is nowhere to be seen, but he can hear a faint rustling from somewhere beyond the view of the camera. 
“Thought I would be talking to you and not the wall.” Niall begins, voice thick and heavy with sleep. 
“Sorry! I’m just grabbing a snack from the kitchen!” Hanna’s pops up behind a wall that sits to the left of the screen. 
She raises her hand in a wave before being obscured once more. Niall is grateful for the moment to collect himself. It had only been a few days since he had seen Hanna for the first time and during that time, she had been done-up for a night out. Now, she appears to be in a pair of black sweatpants rolled at the top to keep them from falling even further down her small frame. The gap between the top of her sweats and the end of a tank top is hard to miss, the sliver of tanned skin hard to miss when it contrasted so starkly against the all black outfit.
Hanna emerges from the kitchen after flicking the light switch off and she settles herself in front of her laptop. A bowl of cereal sits in the palm of one of her hands while she tilts the lid of her computer down to put her in center view. 
“Hi,” she greets Niall with a smile. “Sorry, I just haven’t really eaten much today.”
Niall rolls over to his side, tucking his free arm between his pillows and extending the other to hold his phone further out. 
“No worries. Thought you said you went shopping earlier, though?” His brows furrow in confusion as he recalls a piece of their conversation.
“Yeah, yeah, I did. But, s’just the corner store at the end of my street.” Hanna speaks around a mouthful of cereal. “Too jet lagged to go anywhere else.” 
Niall nods in response. He is only capable of imagining what it would be like to spend ten or so hours traveling across the globe. He’s never really stepped foot outside of Europe, unless you count the trip to Disney World that he took with his parents when he was only two years old. Obviously, he has absolutely no recollection of the long flight over the Atlantic, but he is sure that it was worse for his parents than it was for him. 
“Can’t blame you there. What are you planning to do now?” he asks, a yawn following shortly after. 
“I’ll probably outline the rest of my paper. That way I have it finished before my roommate moves back in.” She pauses, “You should head to bed, though. You sound like you’re ready to drop.”
Niall shakes his head, “I’m not that tired.”
“Oh, bullshit.” Hanna giggles, bringing her legs up to sit criss-crossed. “You sound like you did a few days ago. And I know you were exhausted then.” 
Niall can feel a slight swell in his chest at her words. The simple fact that she had observed so much about him within the few short hours they had gotten to know one another made him soft, if he’s honest. It downright would’ve turned him into a puddle, if that were physically possible. 
“Please, Niall. Get yourself some sleep.” She says, stern chocolate brown eyes staring him down through the screen. “You can even call me again tomorrow night, if you’d like. Can’t promise I’ll be any more enthralling than I am right now, though.”
Niall knuckles at his eyes, heaving a sigh as he does so. He misses the way Hanna scrunches up her nose at the sight. Niall is just so cute and her attraction only strengthens as she gets to see small glimpses into his life.
Niall would much rather spend the entire night talking with Hanna, but the possibility of just hearing her voice again tomorrow is enough for him to justify going to sleep. He doesn’t voice that, though. At least, not in so many words.
“I’d like that.” He mumbles, ocean blue eyes concealed as his eyelids become even heavier. “Just call whenever you’re free, yeah? Liam and I will be ‘round all day tomorrow.”
“Alright, I’ll do that.” Her giggled response lands on Niall’s ears, albeit distorted, it still pulls the corners of his lips into a tired smile.
“Goodnight, Hanna.” Niall yawns, opening his eyes only to narrow them at the bright screen.
“Goodnight, Niall. I hope you sleep well.”
And he does. In fact, Niall is convinced that it is the best sleep he has gotten in weeks. Eight hours spent without a dream or nightmare to challenge the suddenly beautiful reality he was living in.
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favficarchives · 6 years
Text
Already Gone (2/2)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Summary: The reader decides it’s time for her to move on, and Reid realizes it might be too late to stop her. Genre: The happy ending is here folks! Warnings: Brief talk of kidnapping Word count: 3,293
[Masterlist] [Part 1]
A/N: Set between seasons 9 and 10, after Blake leaves but before Kate shows up
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“It would only be temporary – until we find someone suited for the team,” Hotch explained, working hard to sell you on the proposal. “Field work is off the table, so you’d hardly see the team anyway –“
“Hotch!” you interrupted, chuckling at your former boss and his unnecessary sales pitch. “I’ve already told you I would do it. I’m going stir crazy with this sabbatical and you need an extra set of hands. Seems pretty mutually beneficial to me. Besides, I owe you a serious debt for the transfer. And I always pay back my debts.”
It had been a little under two years since you transferred out of the BAU. A specialized team on the west coast took an interest in you, and when you told Hotch you needed to leave, he recommended a transfer to a new team instead of leaving the bureau entirely.
The new team was a wonderful change of pace. You continued the work you dedicated your life to, but got to remake yourself, embrace sides of yourself you kept hidden from almost everyone. And the more honest you were with your new team, the more they seemed to like you. Who would’ve thought that whole “be yourself” thing would be actually paid off?
You were happier than you’d been in a long time, and you had Hotch to thank for that. The fact that his call for help aligned with a forced 6-week break for your team after a series of rough cases seemed like a match made in bureaucratic heaven.
“I can be at Quantico first thing Monday morning, unless you need me sooner?” you offered, already pulling out your laptop to search for extended-stay hotels in the area.
“Monday morning will be perfect,” Hotch’s relieved voice confirmed. “Thank you again, for doing this. I don’t want to put you in a situation that’s bad for your mental health…”
“I’m doing better than ever, Hotch,” you answered honestly. “I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I wasn’t safe.”
“Good,” he said, sounding a little less than convinced. “Great. Temporary credentials will be at the front desk at the guest entrance.”
You smiled. “See ya Monday, Hotch.”
-0-
“Do you miss them at all?” Jeremey asked, a night of drinking and bonding shifting from lighthearted to heavy with the addition of “just one more” drink.
“The BAU?” you confirmed, taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah, I guess.”
Keith barked out a laugh next to you. “God, I would’ve hoped a profiler would be a better liar!”
You rolled your eyes, taking another drink, but remaining silent.
“Anyone in particular?” Jeremey pushed.
“The transfer was pretty out of the blue,” Alicia noted. “Chief said you weren’t even talking until she got a call from Quantico.”
“Bad break-up?” Keith offered. You scoffed and rolled your eyes again, taking an even bigger drink than before.
Jeremey gave you a pensive look. “No break-up.”
Your jaw clenched. Alicia gasped and Keith groaned.
“Unrequited love!” Alicia crooned. “Oh no, sweetie!”
“It’s water under the bridge,” you said sternly.
“It’s been two week,” Jeremey argued.
You shot him a dirty look. “Water moves fast.”
A tense silence fell over the table, your new teammates worried over pushing you too far as you stewed in the heartbreak you ran 3,000 miles to get away from.
“Not that fast, apparently,” Keith muttered.
-0-
“What the hell is she doing here?” Morgan asked to no one in particular. JJ and Garcia turned to follow his line of sight, eyes falling on Y/N, sitting at her old desk and taking on a stack of files like she never left.
JJ shrugged. “Hotch is working like three different jobs right now. Maybe she’s here to help out?”
Morgan listened to the explanation but wasn’t a fan of it. He didn’t like not being in the know, especially not when it came to his work or friends. Part of him was always going to be bitter about you leaving them without so much as a ‘see ya later,’ but a bigger part of him was worried about Reid.
Everyone knew the kid was in love with you pretty much since the moment you two met. They were all waiting for someone to make a move, though they all seemed to seriously under estimate your guys’ shared ability to ignore the obvious in preference for not disrupting the status quo. It would’ve been impressive it wasn’t so damn frustrating.
The game of ‘sit and wait for one of the idiots to crack’ became an in-joke on the 6th floor, to the point that people started a betting pool. Some hopeful fools bet you guys would be dating in a year, while more cynical colleagues gave it to retirement. Morgan was in the middle, as was JJ (though she’d never admit to placing the bet). Eventually, they learned to laugh at the tedious situation, finding the shared clueless almost endearing.
The lighthearted joke was on shaky ground when people starting filing into work one day and saw your empty desk. It was crushed when Reid didn’t come back from his lunch break that day.
At that point, Morgan hurt for both of you.
He noticed your deterioration a few weeks prior, but had no clue how to help. Savanah told him to just offer help, but he knew you’d never take him up on anything. Instead, he just sat back, kept an eye on you, and hoped you’d find your way out of this hole, just as he’d seen you do before.
He figured the empty desk was you’re attempt to get better. Though it hurt, he couldn’t fault you for it. His sympathies, however, were lost the next time he saw Reid.
The kid took the rest of the week off, which Hotch easily gave. Morgan visited him that night and found the heartbroken genius sobbing on his couch, cradling a stuffed animal you’d given him as a Get Well Soon gift after the Anthrax scare. Reid would never admit it, but Morgan knew he brought that thing with him on away cases.
Reid admitted to having found an NA meeting after visiting your apartment and said he spent the rest of the afternoon commiserating with a few people from the meeting. He didn’t trust himself to be alone, but couldn’t bring himself to face your empty desk.
As much as Morgan didn’t want to hate you, he couldn’t help it in that moment.
Two years later and Reid still wasn’t over you. In fact, he’d pretty much given up on the thought. The team hoped that maybe he could move on with Maeve, since the two of them seemed so close and Garcia and JJ swore that was one of the reasons you left, but nothing ever came of it. They were close friends, and Maeve helped take care of him after Texas, but they never became anything more than friends. Morgan asked Reid about it a few weeks ago, and the kid said it just didn’t “feel right.”
“I mean, there’s supposed to be something there, right?” he asked, eyes focused on the carpeted floor of the jet. “Like a… a spark or something?”
Morgan sighed and shook his head.
“I don’t know kid,” he said. “It’s different for everybody.”
Reid shook his head, clearly agitated with the lack of answers.
“But there’s supposed to be something,” he repeated, trying to work through the problem himself. “And if it feels the way I think it feels, then me and Maeve… we aren’t it.”
Morgan steadied his breath, careful to keep his expression neutral as the conversation took the turn he feared it would.
“How do you think it’s supposed to feel, Reid?”
Reid sunk into his seat, gaze distant and voice soft as he lost himself in his memories.
“Like everything’s okay,” he whispered. “Even when they aren’t, they will be, because she’s there. Like my life is just… better with her in it. Like I can’t remember life without her, because she fit so well. Like… like I can’t… can’t fathom life without her, even though I know… I know she’s gone.”
He was on the verge of tears when he finished, and Morgan’s simmering disdain for you grew just a little bit more potent.
“Be nice to her,” Garcia growled under her breath.
He could never hide anything from Penelope.
“At least don’t be rude,” JJ offered.
“Oh what, like she was to us?” he snapped, immediately regretting it when both women scolded him.
“Fine, fine,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender, “I’ll stay in line.”
“What line?” Reid asked innocently as he walked up behind his now shell-shocked friends.
“Uh…”
-0-
You stared up at the ceiling, tracing the freckled pattern of the tiles you’d become so familiar with the past 24 hours.
Hospitals were good places, you reminded yourself. They were important places. They were places that people needed – especially people in your condition. If you were a victim (“you are a victim,” Alicia’s voice reminded you), you’d expect yourself to stay at the hospital and do exactly what the doctors tell you.
Somethings were easier said than done.
You figured you wouldn’t be so bored if you could do literally anything, but the damage done to your midsection meant you couldn’t get out of bed. Normally, you’d take that as a chance to catch up on some reading, but both of your wrists were in splints and useless until further notice.
You remembered the feeling of thick metal cuffs digging into your skin. You remembered helplessly dangling there, trying to keep calm and find a way out of there. You still weren’t sure if you were targeted because of your job or if it was a random act of very, very bad luck, but at a certain point it didn’t matter. What mattered was surviving.
What you remembered the most – beyond the pain and fear and anger – was the breathlessness. The longer you hung there, hands chained to the pipes above you, the harder it was to breathe. You got into the habit of pulling yourself up for a few seconds, just to catch your breath, but you couldn’t maintain that kind of exertion for long. You knew if you didn’t figure something out soon, you’d die of asphyxiation before the actual murder.
For some reason, that fear stuck with you. To this moment, you couldn’t shake it. There were times when you still couldn’t catch your breath.
In those moments, you wished for Spencer. You didn’t even have time to hate yourself for it; you just wanted your best friend there to make you feel better. You wanted him by your side where you knew he would be, should be. You wanted him explaining exactly what that asphyxiation thing was all about, since the doctors and nurses offered little insight beyond “the damage isn’t permanent.”
You’d been wondering all year if you made the right decision. You’d been haunted by Spencer’s confession and the nagging little ‘what if’ that pestered you into believing that maybe he wasn’t totally, exactly lying. Usually, you’d combat these thoughts with the cold hard fact that you can’t turn back time, but right now you didn’t want any facts that weren’t coming from your best friend. The man you left back in Quantico. The man you still love.
-0-
Spencer finally put down his pen sat back from his desk, stretching his arms over his head to work out some of the kinks forming in his shoulders and back. He’d been the one to takedown the most recent unsub, so he had about 3 extra tons of paperwork to fill out. He didn’t realize how late it was until suddenly you and he were the only two left in the office.
You’d been back for about two weeks, and Hotch confirmed it was only temporary, but Spencer couldn’t help the way his heart jumped seeing you at your desk again. He tried to remain objective. He tried to tell himself that you weren’t staying. He tried to tell himself that you hadn’t even spoken to him unnecessarily since you’d been back. He tried to tell himself that you didn’t even look at him when you did speak.
None of it mattered, though. None of it mattered because when he looked up from his desk at 10 p.m., you were there, working as diligently as ever, as though nothing changed.
But things did change, he reminded himself.
He smiled sadly before returning to his paperwork. He didn’t want to finish it too quickly – didn’t want a reason to leave. He didn’t know if you’d be here tomorrow, and he wanted to relish every moment he could, even if those moments were spent in silence.
“So did you actually get shot in the neck?”
He looked up in surprise, gaze locked on you, drawn in by the curious, concerned look in your eyes.
God, it’d been so long since he’d looked into your eyes.
He tried to answer, but found his throat was too dry to speak. Instead, he just nodded.
Your lips pursed in response.
“I’m no life coach or anything,” you said, “but I think maybe that’s a bad idea.”
Spencer couldn’t stop that laugh that broke from his lips. He shook his head and leaned back in his chair.
“I figured I’d try something new,” he reasoned, smiling widely at you from across the darkened office.
Your eyebrows shot up in amusement.
“And?”
“It was a bad idea.”
You fell back in your chair, arms wrapped around your waist as your entire body shook with laughter. It had been so fucking long since Spencer last heard you laugh – even longer than since he’d last seen you. He never knew he could miss a sound so much, even one so enchanting. He didn’t know how long he sat like that, watching your smile, listening to your laugh, reveling in your mere presence. He found he didn’t really care. All he cared about was seeing you happy again.
-0-
“So you’re really going back to Quantico, huh?” Jeremey asked as he sat on your bed and didn’t help you pack – like a dick.
“Just while we’re on sabbatical,” you told him from inside your closet. “They need serious help around the office and I need a serious break from this break.”
Jeremey chuckled. “Yeah, you never were one for time off.”
“Gives me too much time to think,” you muttered, throwing a few blouses and dresses over your arm and walking towards your suitcase on the bed.
“So have you kept in contact with anyone from Quantico?” he asked as you folded up the clothes. “Like, do you have any idea what you’re walking into?”
You shrugged.
“I know the basics,” you said. “Who left, who stayed, most recent trips to the hospital, that kind of stuff.”
Jeremey laughed and nodded, before sobering back up and getting to the point you figured he’d been trying to get to all afternoon.
“Do you know how long you’ll stay there?”
There it is.
“Until they find a full-time replacement, Jerry,” you sighed. “Just like I said last time. And the time before that.”
“Yeah, but what if they’re not looking for a replacement,” he pushed. “What if they’re looking for a return?”
“The parable of the prodigal daughter?” you half-joked, walking back to the closest and fetching a few more items. When you came back out, the usually playful Jeremey had a very serious look on his face.
“Look, Y/N, you know we love you-“
Oh, that’s never good.
“But you know you’re better suited for the BAU,” he said firmly. “You’re built for that kind of work. You can handle the stress and the travel and the constantly shifting gears.
He continued, “And while that makes you a great asset to this team, it’s clearly not as rewarding for you. Besides, we literally all know you still miss them. If you want to go back to the BAU, you should.”
You smiled softly, always a little honored to see the serious side Jeremey.
“Did Chief put you up to this?” you joked. “Am I getting fired?”
Jeremey rolled his eyes. “If Chief knew I was saying all this stuff to you, I’d be the one getting fired.”
-0-
“I heard you were kidnapped last year,” Spencer said as you two waited for the elevator. “Are you alright?”
You nodded your head ardently, your exhaustion once again overpowering your plan to not chat with anyone – especially Spencer.
“Yeah,” you said. “They didn’t have me for long. Honestly, it’s the most interesting thing that’s happened out there.”
Spencer gave you an odd look as the elevator doors opened.
“I think that’s how it’s supposed to be,” he said as he got on and pressed the button for the garage. “The BAU is the odd one out in that regard.”
You chuckled. “Yeah. Some people have said I’m better suited for the BAU. Apparently I bore too easily on my other team.”
Spencer laughed softly, and you reveled in how comfortable it felt. Anytime you had been alone with someone else, there was always an awkward tension. JJ didn’t know what to do with you, Derek hated you, and Penny didn’t want to scare you away. The only person you felt like yourself with was Spencer.
You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered at the thought.
Even if you did come back, nothing would happen between you two. He had Maeve, and you had… well, nothing really, expect too much pride to admit to Alicia's “unrequited love” theory.
Suddenly, the elevator jostled, pulling you from your thoughts.
You looked to Spencer and saw him standing next to the control panel, handing moving away from the Emergency Stop button.
“I need to talk to you,” he said quietly, eyes looking off to the side. “And it’s going to be weird, but I need to do it.”
You nodded silently, bracing yourself for whatever came your way.
“You hurt us,” he started. “You hurt all of us when you left like that. And I know you were doing what you had to do, and you have no idea how amazing it is to see you happy again, but you did hurt us.”
You nodded along, biting your lip to keep it from quivering. Spencer grew more confident as he spoke, walking closer to you and catching your eyes with his.
“I was messed up for a long time, and I don’t think Morgan will ever really forgive you for that.”
You nodded, and he stepped closer.
“Blake couldn’t handle the tension in the team with you gone,” Spencer said quietly. “And I know Hotch had been looking into early retirement. You kept this team together, Y/N. You kept me together. And you just… left.”
You nodded again, tears welling in your eyes.
“I know,” you whispered, breaking his gaze as you moved to wipe your tears away. “I know I hurt you-“
“That doesn’t matter though,” he continued, softening his voice and stepping closer to you. “None of it matters, because no matter what I do, I still love you.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and you blinked away fresh tears as the demon of doubt returned to his summer house in your brain. You hated yourself a little bit for the rush of excitement you felt at the confession, but couldn’t fully condemn that romantic part of you. All you could finds a try to keep her in check.
“I thought-“ you started, sputtering out as you choked back a sob and took a shaky breath, “I thought…you and Maeve…”
Spencer shook his head, stepping even closer.
“Maeve and I are nothing,” he practically whispered, his voice and enticing. “We’ve never been more than friends – never been close.
“It’s always been you, Y/N,” he whispered, somehow even closer than before. “Only ever you.”
You wanted to believe him. You almost did believe him. You were so close to finally believing him, if only that damn demon would shut the fuck up.
“Only me?” you asked, cursing the pleading tone in your voice. “Y-you… you l-love…”
“Only you,” he whispered, face slowly getting closer and closer to yours. You had to act fast – figure this out before he got too close and you threw all reason down the elevator shaft. “I am completely, helplessly in love with only you.”
That’ll work.
You closed the waning distance between you, grabbing handfuls of his shirt and pulling him closer. He reciprocated immediately, cupping our face gently and taking control of the kiss.
You let the kiss – 6 years in the making – wash over you, running your hands down his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. He stepped even closer to you, forcing you back against the wall of the elevator.
His body pressed up flush against yours and his hands slid back into your hair, gently tilting your head back and deepening the kiss.
You moaned into his mouth as your body shook with anticipation and thrill. If he was as shocked by this reaction as you were, he didn’t show it.
Encourage, you let your body take over, tongue fighting his in a playful battle while your hands slid around the waist of his pants and pulled him even closer. You started fumbling with his belt when his large hands enveloped yours. He pulled away from the kiss.
“Not here,” he said, breathlessly reaching for the Emergency Stop button and pushing it in. “Not at work. Where are you staying?”
“Depends,” you said.
“Depends?” he asked, pulling back to shoot you a confused look. “On what?”
You smirked at him.
“On whose place is closer.”
Spencer confused look drained away as he began to laugh, pulling you back in for a playful kiss. You two pulled away from each other again as you reached the main floor.
“Garcia said you might be coming back,” Spencer asked, desperate hope clear in his eyes as they stayed locked on yours. “Is it true? Are you coming back to us?”
“Technically,” you said softly, “I don’t have much of a choice.”
You suppressed a chuckle at the confused looked the genius gave you.
“Chief finished the transfer papers on her end this afternoon,” you said. “Faxed them over to Caitlin earlier this evening. If she still works late, I’d say they’ve been processed.”
Spencer’s smile was so bright you swore you’d go blind if you kept staring at it.
You refused to look away.
“So what you’re saying is…” he urged.
You smiled brightly at him.
“I’m already back.”
A/N: And we have a happy ending! Hope you enjoyed!
Taglist:  champagnesugamama  bibliophile1773  kimvtaeokay  rawritsmolly  supernaturalhunter333  spencerreidreads  ultrarebelheart  mrssierrarogers  theawkwardbutterfly  roupasuja  wheresthewater  crazylizardlove (I tried to get everyone, but with the way notes have been acting up I can’t be sure. Sorry if I missed anyone)
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joi-in-the-tardis · 6 years
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Ok this bestie post is BEAUTIFUL and I love you both madly.
Bestie Month Post (for those of you who might have missed it)
You know, as I kid and young adult I think a lot of my friendships were me being “adopted” by someone else- usually an extrovert.  As I’ve gotten older I feel like I’ve gotten a bit better about reaching out and purposefully making friends with people (all across the introvert/extrovert spectrum).  
That being said, as one of the photos in the post shows...
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I feel like this is a good place to mention that not only am I introverted, I’m also shy and socially anxious.  Those things don’t all mean the same thing and being one doesn’t mean you are the others.  I just happen to have the whole package deal. lol  One thing this means for me is that I have a hard time starting conversations with people.  It kinda goes one way: I say nothing at all and the crickets drive me mad.  Or the other way: I share to the point where I’m sure I’m oversharing.
Jem pretty much had to tell me we were Besties.  I mean, I knew we were friends.  There was a lot of interaction- both on our blogs and in our chat boxes- that went on before this post was made.  But, how much that means to one person can be different from how much it means to another.  Which kind of means that I’m answering question 2 first or at least along side question 1.  There’s a certain raw honesty that’s required sometimes.  It can be scary.  I know that there have been many times that I’ve written long, personal things to people here and I’ve sat with my finger over the send key and sweated(Jem most certainly included, at least early on).
Without body language clues or fun little coffee dates or trips to the mall it’s hard to know how someone’s going to react to what you say.  However, I feel like the people I’ve gotten the closest to here?  They’re the ones I poured my heart out to.  The ones I made myself vulnerable in front of with only my understanding of who they were (how they present themselves) and hope that they would be as kind as they seem to be.  Those moments when I sat poised, ready to make a run for it if things went south... But, I wound up with virtual hugs and the feeling of actually being understood.
I’m not advocating that you invade the first person’s inbox you find with your most deepest, darkest secrets.  Get to know them a little first.  Follow their blog: put them on notifications.  Comment on personal posts.  Comment about what’s going on with them and add in some stories about yourself, too.  Send a hello message, maybe about something they posted.  See how things go. See if they open up a little to you and return that by opening up yourself.  It’s a two way street and there’s no reason for them to put themselves out there if you’re not willing to at least meet them halfway.  (The same can be said in reverse: don’t expect the other person to constantly listen to you if you’re not willing to listen to them!)
I think you have to remind yourself that people are blogging publicly for a reason.  They could be rambling away in a notebook somewhere.  If they had lots of friends that shared their interests, they would probably be sharing with them instead of here.  We’re here because we want some attention, even if we don’t want to admit that.  And, I think a lot of us want a connection with other people.  Maybe not everyone’s looking for a Bestie, but I bet they are looking for friends.  At the very least, I’m just about positive they’re looking for people who share their interests and want to talk about them.
In my case, Jem had put in her blog description to chat her up any time.  So, one day, when something was really bothering me and I needed an ear?  I sent a message.  Later when something was bothering her, she sent me a message. Somewhere in between, we realized we had way (way, way) more in common than we’d ever realized.  As I recall, the downhill slide in to Bestie-dom happened pretty quickly as we found we could talk to one another and understand each other so easily when most people in our lives could not.
So, I suppose my answer to question 2 is that you’re going to be scared but you have to do it anyway.  (Or, as Carrie Fisher said, “Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually the confidence will follow.”) Nothing ventured, nothing gained.  And, you have to occasionally be very outright about your affections.  There’s only words here so words are what we have to use.  Have you enjoyed chatting with your friend? As you’re saying goodbye: tell them.  A simply “thanks for chatting” or “thanks for listening” or “I really like talking to you” goes a long way to warming a heart.  Maybe you don’t throw the “Bestie Bomb” out there right away (love ya, Jem!
Okay, so that’s question 2 down.  I’ve peppered question 1 in there, too: Jem shared a lot of herself on her blog and I responded to it.  I commented on photos.  I remembered stories and brought them up later.  I admired and shared her artwork because, by golly, the world should see what my friend can do!  In turn, I got more personal on my blog and Jem returned the favor.  Comments became conversations, conversations became long chats.  Some are silly, some are serious.  Most are both.  There’s an openness we’ve fostered that I think is rare and treasured on both sides.  And, we’re not afraid to tell one another what that means to us.  We’re also not afraid to tell the other (gently!) when they might be in error.  I think a real friendship means honesty even when it’s not a compliment.  It means the other person can count on you to be real.  But that, I think, comes later and with greater trust.
As for question 3...  I think you should monitor your expectations a bit.  Not everyone is going to want to chat with you daily (not everyone has that kind of time!).  Not everyone is going to want you to fly to their house and chill out with their fam for the week (I’m still a bit in awe at the trust required for that!).
Besties take time to cultivate.  Frienships take time to grow.  Start small and work up to it.  If the other person comments back on your comments, maybe send them a message to further the conversation.  Give them time to get back to you.  Respect that they have a life (job, family, IRL friends, pets, hobbies, etc).
With some persistence, trust, time, sharing, and determination I believe anyone can find a good friend here.  I remember being on this website in the years before I ran across Jem (and you, Skyler, among others).  I remember seeing mutuals go back and forth.  I remember seeing those friendships and being absolutely baffled as to how they happened.  How they were maintained.  Across countries and oceans and time zones.  I wondered and wondered.  How?  Maybe it’s not the same for everyone... but, putting my heart out there is how I feel I’ve earned my friendships.  Be it a heart that needed mending or a heart that was ready to help someone else mend.
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(Because I’m kinda excited that I can add a photo here that I didn’t get to add to the other post: art and prezzies from my Bestie. I can shamelessly show off a little, right? ;) )
Anything you wanna add, @jemsauce?
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