#did 6 loads of laundry over the past 2 days counting the ones in the dryer right now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

janicho88 · 4 years

Text

Falling For You - Part 1

Pairing- Dean x Lisa(past), Female!Reader x OMC Justin(past), Eventual Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count-3019

Warning- Mentions of cheating, slight angst. This is going to be a bit of a slow burn.

A/N- I had an idea for a one shot, and giving a backstory to Dean and the Reader meeting took on a life of its own. This story is AU, and un beta’d.

Summary- After being burned before you had sworn off finding love for now. Coming home from work one night there is a strange man pounding on your door. Neither of you knew what this meeting would lead to.

Series Masterlist

It had been a long day at work and you just wanted to get home to your couch, although you knew that would have to wait. The apartment needed some cleaning, and you needed to wash laundry too. You had put it off, work keeping you busier than usual the last 2 weeks, and you really should go hit the gym. You had been slacking there too.

The elevator was being inspected when you walked in the building so you had taken the stairs Reaching your floor you were surprised to find a man standing in front of your door continuously knocking. Slowing walking over you looked around, no one else seemed to be near. Knowing the time, your neighbor across the hall, Jess was probably on her way home from work, you weren’t completely certain about her fiancé though. The other two apartments on this level kept to themselves.

“Hi, Can I help you?” You cautiously asked.

“Nope.”

“Are you sure?”

The greenest eyes you had ever seen turned to look at you with a grin forming. “Thanks, but I’m just waiting for my brother to let me in, unless you want to give me your number for later?”

“I’m good thanks, but why is your brother letting you in there?” You didn’t get any danger vibes from this guy, so you weren’t too worried about standing here talking to him yet.

“Well miss nosey, it’s because he lives there.”

“I don’t think he does.”

“Really, and how would you know anything?” The man back to pounding on your door.

Before you could respond Jess’ fiancé Sam came running up the steps sweaty from his evening jog.

“Dude, you weren’t supposed to be here till tomorrow, and why are you blocking Y/N’s door?” Sam unlocked his door across from you and went to hug his brother.

The man backed away from him, “Seriously man? You’re sweaty and gross, shower first. I needed to get out of there, and traffic on the way up was pretty light. You told me you and Jess were 44.”

“No Dean, I told you we were 43. We live on the fourth floor in the third apartment number 43. You weren’t listening,” Sam turned to you still unable to get into your apartment. “Sorry Y/N, this is my older brother Dean. He just got up here from Kansas, he’s staying with us for a little while. I’ll get him out of your way,” He leaned down to grab one of Dean’s bags before heading into his apartment.

Dean turned to look at you then looking at your door before he leaned down to pick up the other bag. “Oops!” With that he headed into the open apartment and shut the door. Shaking your head you went to unlock your own door.

Heading to your bedroom after setting your things down, you figured if you didn't get your workout done first it wasn’t going to happen. Quickly changing you grabbed some laundry and went to throw a load in the washer so the first load would be done when your workout was finished. Very thankful to have a washer and dryer in your apartment. Grabbing your key you headed the gym on the ground floor. An hour on the bike left you feeling a little better, getting out some of your frustrations.

Back inside your apartment you changed the laundry and started on your dusting and window washing before vacuuming. Finally finished, you headed for a shower to clean off the dirt and sweat.

All clean you ventured to the kitchen to see what you could whip up for dinner. When a knock at your door pulled you away. Who could be here now you wondered.

Opening the door you came face to face with Mr green eyes again. Shoot, what did Sam say his name was.

“Your brother still lives across the hall.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I swear Sammy told me it was 44. I just wanted to come say I was sorry for bothering you earlier. I know the right place now.”

“It’s fine. Have a nice visit.”

“Thanks it’s not really a visit. I’m Dean, like he said, I’m his older brother.”

“Y/N, the neighbor. Nice to meet you Dean.” Holding out your hand to Dean his bigger hand engulfed it in a firm shake.

“Would you let me take you out for a bite to apologize for my first impression?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good…”

“It’s not a date,” He hurriedly cut in. “It’s just, I mean, you seem like a nice person, and you would probably be a great date, but it’s not. It will just be food I swear. Tomorrow afternoon, or night? I don’t know if you have big Saturday plans?”

“Shouldn’t you be spending time with your brother?”

“He has a work dinner with Jess they can’t miss.”

You thought about it for a moment. You had been friends with Sam and Jess a little while now and trusted them, so you should be able to trust his brother. “I’m supposed to go dress shopping with my friend Meg, tomorrow. We should be done by 6 if you really want to grab some dinner.”

“Sounds good, sweetheart, I’ll knock on your door again then.”

“Okay, goodnight Dean. Oh and welcome to Michigan.” Shaking your head you shut the door to go back to your search for tonight’s dinner.

The fridge was pretty empty, you didn’t even have any frozen microwaveable meals left. Looks like grocery shopping just became part of your weekend plans. Settling on a bag of popcorn, it is a vegetable of sorts, somehow right? You finally headed for the couch and turned on the Hallmark Channel to see if there was a movie you could get lost in for the rest of the evening. Before you know it, it was time for bed so you could get an early start on tomorrow.

It was an honor to be asked to be the Maid of Honor, right? You needed to keep reminding yourself of this as you wandered through the dress shop the next day with Meg. Meg was a friend from elementary school and sometimes you think you are the MoH because many others would not have been able to handle this process with her. She could be a little blunt and rude, but you were used to this and could take the wedding craziness coming from her. 5 hours and two shops later she finally found the perfect dress for herself. You couldn’t be happier since you had already spent two other Saturday’s out searching.

Her fiancé Cas, thankfully had the patience of an angel. They had met when Meg left for college in Kansas, he was a year older than her. After graduation he had followed her back up here. Six years later, Cas finally got her to say ‘yes’. She seemed to be a better person with him around, a little kinder. They would be good for each other and you were very happy for them.

Your love life on the other hand, was not so lucky. Two months ago, you had broken up with your only serious boyfriend. A night out with friends had ended in tears when trying out the new bar in town. You had turned around in time to see a flash of Justin in a corner booth, walking over you found him lip locked with another woman. You stood there shocked for a moment when the woman noticed you staring and commented on it. A look of shock on Justin’s face as he quickly moved away from her and tried to explain The rest of your drink ended up on him as you walked out of the bar. Meg having seen the whole thing took you home and kept your now ex out when he came over to try and talk to you. The guys you had been out with before him, hadn’t done much for your faith in men either, having made the choice to give up dating for now. You were two years away from thirty, and had always thought by now you would have settled down. Maybe that wasn’t in the cards for you.

It was only a little after three so you decided to stop at the grocery store on the way home, this way you wouldn’t need to run out tomorrow. You would be able to just enjoy a day at home. Arriving home you pulled into your assigned spot and went to empty your car, you were one of those people who tried to carry everything in one trip. At least the elevator passed yesterday’s inspection and was running today, or it would be a challenge carrying everything at once up 4 flights of stairs. Although you couldn’t open your door with your hands full and keys in your pocket. Freeing a hand you finally worked it open as the door opened behind you.

“Need a hand?” Turning around Dean was standing in the doorway leading to the opposite apartment.

“You don’t have to, half the challenge was getting it up here.”

“I know I don’t have to,” As he finished talking Dean leaned down to pick up the discarded bags. “Dinner for tonight or are we still good to go?”

“Still good to go, I just had an empty fridge and decided to hit the store today and enjoy tomorrow.”

Dean set the bags on the counter and started to unpack them. Looking at the various items he turned to you holding up molasses and baking soda, “These aren’t your typical dinner items.”

“No, this is me getting a head start on what I need for Christmas baking. I know it’s the start of October, but December comes quick, and I like to have my baking done for my family’s Christmas party the first weekend of December.”

“You bake?”

“Yes, I actually really enjoy it.”

“So what all do you make cookies, cakes, pies maybe?”

Laughing at the hopeful look in his eye at the last item you nodded your head. “Yes, those plus bars, and different candies. Christmas I do the most, although not usually pie for that. Different holidays or events vary, or when I’m in a funk and just want to get lost in my kitchen.”

“Ever need a pie tester, I’ll gladly volunteer.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” The groceries unloaded Dean looked around before heading out saying he would be back at six. Glancing at the clock you saw it was almost five and decided to hop in the shower to get cleaned up.

There was a knock on your door right at six, dressed casually in jeans, a sweater and tall black heeled boots you opened it to see Dean smiling at you. Also having gone casual with jeans and a dark green henley. “Ready to go, Y/N?”

“Yep, all set. So where are we going Mr. Winchester?” Dean turned, giving you a funny look, as you got into the elevator “What?”

“How do you know my last name? Been looking into me?”

“You’re Sam’s brother, right? I kinda thought they would be the same.”

“Oh, yeah, true. As for our destination, I thought I’d surprise you.”

You screwed up your face but just nodded. You didn’t want to come across as rude to whatever he was thinking. Getting in the car he turned to look at you, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” There wasn’t much you hated more than surprises.

“Your face said otherwise a minute ago.”

“I was just thinking about something else, all good here,” You gave him a smile before looking out the window.

A short while later you pulled up outside a bar you hadn’t been to in a few months. Quietly getting out of the car you followed Dean inside. “Sam told me about this place, he said it was fairly new, but the food is good. Have you been here yet?”

“Once, but I wasn’t here long enough to eat.” It was early enough still it wasn’t too busy yet, Dean heading over to a booth asking if that was alright. You agreed and sat across from him. After ordering drinks and food it was a little awkward between the two of you. This wasn’t a date, what was it. You didn’t know the man so it wasn’t even friends hanging out. Not wanting to sit in silence any longer you decided to break it.

“How long are you visiting for?”

“I’m working on moving up here actually, I’m staying with Sam and Jess while I look for a place and find some work. Then I’ll head back to Lawrence with Sam and we’re going to drive my stuff back.”

“Oh wow, like the mitten state that much huh?”

Dean was quiet for a moment before answering, it almost seemed like he was having an internal battle on how to respond. “I needed a change and my brother and best friend both moved up here. Sam and I were pretty close growing up, and it would be nice to be near him again. My parents are still in Kansas but have talked about moving for a while. I can see them heading up here if Sam and Jess are here, especially if they end up having kids. I guess I’m going before I get left behind.” There was a sadness in his eyes that told you something was missing from his story.

“What kind of work are you looking for?”

“I actually was in business with my dad before I left. Owned an auto repair shop and we specialized in classic car restorations. Dad’s keeping the shop, but I’m guessing he’ll retire in a year or two and sell it. Going to see if anyone around here is hiring for now. How about you, what is it that you do?”

“Oh, I work at a physical therapy clinic in the business office. It’s usually a nice 9-5 job, but we had someone leave unexpectedly in the front office so I’ve been filling in for her and trying to do my work too. Makes for some later days. Someone new is starting next week so once they are trained it should calm down again.”

Dean was watching you and noticed you were doing your best to avoid looking around the bar, your focus either him or the table. “Is there someone you don’t want to see you here? A boyfriend I should worry about coming to beat me up? What’s up?”

“No, nothing like that.” Taking a deep breath you look up at Dean, “This place doesn't have great memories for me. The one time I was here I caught my then boyfriend making out with someone else. It was definitely a surprise, I wasn’t a fan of surprises before, but that was one of the worst I could have.”

“I’m sorry, I guess I should have checked the place with you first.”

Reaching across the table you put your hand on top of Dean’s, “No it’s okay. I really should just get over it anyways. It’s stupid on my part, right?”

“Not at all Sweetheart,” Dean turns his hand over giving yours a squeeze. “I understand to well how much that stings.” Letting out a deep breath he continues, “I had been dating this girl for over a year. Thought she was it ya know. I came home from work early to surprise her one day and found her in our bed with another guy.”

“Oh Dean, I am so sorry!”

He gave you a little smile before continuing, “It was my house. I kicked her out and put it up for sale, packed up my stuff and ended up storing it at my parents while I was staying in my childhood bedroom. I just couldn’t stay there. Got lucky it sold in a few months. I would see the two of them all around town and needed to get out of there. Sammy, and my childhood best friend, Cas like it up here so I decided to give it a shot”

“Wait, Cas? Is he engaged to Meg?”

“Uh, yeah why?”

“She’s my best friend, I’m her maid of honor. I’ve met Cas, he’s a great guy.”

“Yeah, she’s good for him. Takes him out of his comfort zone. Good for them, me on the other hand. I don’t see myself dating anytime soon.”

“Me either, I don’t have the best luck with relationships. I’m sorry for what you went though, you didn’t deserve that.”

“Neither did you.” You both sat there taking in what the other had said.

Dean spoke first, “I wouldn’t mind making a new friend though. Especially if she needs any taste testing when baking.”

Laughing before leaning back against the booth more relaxed than you had been, “I think new friends are good.”

Deciding it was time to lighten the subject you asked him another question. “So what brought Sam up here? I know Jess was from Indiana, not here either.”

“After law school Sam had been offered a position in a big firm in Ann Arbor, which I guess is like 30-40 minutes from here. Jess didn't want to live in the bigger city, she wanted to be in a little smaller town if they could. She said they did big city living in California during college and could visit Ann Arbor, or Chicago from here. Sam liked the idea of that too. I think they are both thinking of where they want to raise kids eventually”

“This is a good town to grow up in, I did. Why they moved here never came up in conversation. I’ve hung out with her and Meg before, and neither mentioned Sam and Cas were from the same town.”

The two of you spent the rest of the night talking and laughing more at ease knowing where the other stood. It was after 11 when Dean pulled back into the apartment parking lot. This had been one of the best nights you had had in awhile.

Part 2

Thank you for reading!!

Tags @talesmaniac89 @katehuntington @winchest09 @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @waywardbeanie @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @emoryhemsworth @anathewierdo @malfoysqueen14 @superfanficnatural @jensengirl83 @atc74 @sandlee44 @akshi8278 @fantasydevil2002

#Dean x female! reader #dean x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #FallingForYou

183 notes · View notes

fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years

Text

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 12 - Willie Alone

Summary: Sunset Curve AU, Willex, will he make it?, 5.2k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Day one down with no Caleb. Purple began to border the horizon. Hours of skating broken up with brief rests had Willie pretty tired. Sheldon seemed to be holding up pretty alright, even if he was stuck in the funny makeshift carrier Willie had made from a t-shirt to wrap around himself. Whatever town he’d stopped in was a little ways from the interstate, but it was nice being in a smaller place than a city for once. He actually couldn’t remember if he’d ever been to one.

Willie skated up to a cafe that doubled as an ice cream parlor and let Sheldon down on the ground. He hooked a leash to the cat’s collar but let it drag along the ground, knowing he would be followed. Entering the cafe, he sat at a table and leaned on its surface in exhaustion.

The night before already felt like so long ago. He’d spent all day debating whether it was smart to skate along the highway because it was an easier route to follow, or if he should take some back roads because they had less traffic and likely no cops. Seeing that shed light up was unforgettable. Willie hadn’t watched too many movies since he’d lost his memories, but it was a moment that had definitely felt like he was in one. Did he count as a fugitive now? He sort of liked the flavor of mystery and adventure that came with it.

Sheldon was up on his hind legs, pawing at Willie’s knees to let him climb up. Sitting back so his cat could leap into his lap, Willie cradled him with one arm. He thought about getting some ice cream and realized that he already missed the chamoy candy from Escobar’s bodega. It would’ve been nice to have a few more snacks on him. He’d get something in a little bit - standing up was going to make him feel sore.

He wondered how Alex was doing. He’d chosen to go to L.A. in the hopes of at least finding him and the rest of his friends. That sense of closeness and familiarity that Willie had felt when they were at the Pearl had become everything to him. Even Julie and Flynn would be great to meet again - in fact, he wished he could give them something in return for allowing him the second chance he’d needed to find Alex. Then he could figure out where to go from there.

Finally getting up from his seat, he approached the counter for some ice cream, leaving Sheldon held down by putting a chair leg through the leash handle. A girl who looked too young to be working there came to serve him.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” she said politely.

Willie looked down at all the flavors underneath the glass. What he wanted to do was climb inside and get the cool-off he really needed.

“Uhhh...how about the - ” his eyes narrowed to be sure he was getting it right. “ - the swass?” As far as he could see it claimed to be a white chocolate flavor with cayenne pepper in it. He’d never heard of a spicy ice cream before.

The girl giggled behind the glass.

“How many scoops?” she asked, barely containing laughter.

“Two scoops, in a waffle cone,” he said, watching as she got it prepared. “What’s so funny?”

They traded hands as she gave him the cone and he gave her cash.

“Swass is short for sweaty ass. It’s a summer special.”

Willie snorted and laughed along with her.

“Nice!” he said, pointing a finger to accentuate the word. She held a handful of coins out to him. “Don’t worry about it, keep the change.”

Mood now lifted by his ‘swass’ ice cream (which was surprisingly delicious once he began licking it), he went back to the table. Sheldon kept watching him, eyes hungry for the unfamiliar substance. Willie watched in mild entertainment for a moment as he continued eating. Then he got the idea to move the ice cream around, seeing Sheldon’s eyes follow wherever it went. It made him giggle.

Holding the cone within reach of Sheldon’s face, he let the cat sniff at it for a moment before daring to take a lick. After a few more licks, Sheldon sat back with his mouth wide open in shock, and Willie felt bad for laughing.

“Did you get a brain freeze, buddy?”

Sheldon looked betrayed, and crawled underneath the chair and began cleaning his face. Some noise caught Willie’s attention and he looked up to see a small TV set up in a corner of the cafe. The news was on, and while he couldn’t clearly make out what was being said, he saw footage of a building in flames while a fire department was trying to put it out. Fear clenched in his chest as he recognized it. Lifting Sheldon’s leash, he immediately got up from his chair and headed out the door.

So avoiding public places was going to be the plan from now on. He didn’t know what was being told on that news story but considering that was definitely the shed from behind Caleb’s place...arson had awful consequences, and Willie didn’t like his odds. It certainly put a wedge in his plan to find shelter, but he could get creative.

Grabbing his board, Willie skated through the streets and checked out his best options while finishing his ice cream. It was getting late, and businesses were closing quickly. He didn’t fancy staying anywhere outside, mostly for the safety of his cat. After getting a good look around the town (or most of it at least), Willie had to pick between the movie theater or the laundromat.

He thought of trying the theater. The seats would be perfect to sleep in, and the dark stillness of an empty theater at night sounded so relaxing. But there was the question of getting in without having to buy a ticket or being kicked out after a movie was finished. That was likely to cause enough fuss with the employees for them to identify him. Scratch that off the list.

Willie made his way to the laundromat, albeit unwillingly. It was the only place open for twenty-four hours with no one to bother him about why he was there. As he went inside with Sheldon, he peered up at the yellow lights. There had to be a dark corner somewhere. A handful of loads were going, and they were all spread out so that the noise would bother him no matter what. However, a door toward the back caught his attention and he checked to see if it was locked.

To his surprise, it opened to reveal an empty office. He flipped on the light to get a better look. There was only a desk, chair, and empty bookshelves, as if whatever it was used for had been decommissioned or moved elsewhere. Dragging a finger over the desk, a layer of dust came off. The room didn’t look like anyone would check for a person in there, so Willie decided it was where he’d make camp.

Luckily enough, there was a lost and found area with the laundry of people who’d somehow forgotten to pick up their loads. Finding a blanket in the pile, Willie made sure Sheldon was inside the office with him before turning the light out and shutting the door. It blocked out the noise of the machines well enough. Using his backpack as a pillow, he laid down and pulled the blanket over him as best he could and sighed.

Thinking back to earlier when he’d celebrated being a fugitive...well, it certainly had its cons. As Sheldon nestled on top of his legs, Willie chuckled softly and tried to focus on falling asleep. The backwards dream was bound to happen again, and he wondered if anything about it would change now that he knew what it was really about. Aside from his memories of Alex and his dad, it was the best motivator he had now. He closed his eyes and let the sound of purring lull him to sleep.

Day three without Caleb. Note to self: never underestimate the amount of sunscreen, food and water needed on a trip, and bring a map. Packing light was a mistake. Willie was avoiding the highway now, but had taken a wrong turn somewhere after passing through that small town and thought he’d found somewhere to get back on track, but only ended up more turned around than ever. Now he was skating for miles on some back road with no cars or civilization in sight and was getting worried. He was rationing the water between him and Sheldon, and now that it was high afternoon and the July sun was beating down, he was worried. The food he had packed for himself was already gone, and he was pretty sunburnt.

He’d originally decided not to hitchhike because he didn’t want to be recognized and turned in, but now he was considering it was safer than wherever he was right then. If the laundromat had been rough, rest stops were much less desirable to sleep in.

Slowing his board down, he moved to the side of the road for a minute and set Sheldon down on the ground so they could both stretch their legs. These past few days had been hard, but he was determined to never go back to Caleb. He felt more like himself and a new person all at once, more than he had ever felt since he’d lost his memories. Even with desperation creeping under his skin, he didn’t regret it one bit. Sheldon rubbed against his legs and Willie opened his backpack and dug for some food.

“Here you go, buddy,” he murmured, laying the food down and massaging the back of the cat’s neck. “You sure are handling this better than me.”

All he got in response was content purring. Willie was grateful he wasn’t entirely alone. It wasn’t a usual thing for cats to travel, right? He wondered what made Sheldon so special.

Pulling out his water bottle, Willie saw that it was down to a mere gulp. As if to punctuate his disappointment, his stomach growled loudly. This was beginning to feel like more than a low point. The pain and fatigue started increasing as he sat in the dust, the notion of how lost he was settling in uncomfortably. Shaking the water bottle, Sheldon perked up and watched him pour some into his hand before licking it up.

Finishing the last of it, Willie was hardly satisfied. It was better than nothing. The heat was getting unbearable, though, and with how tired he felt it was a hard debate whether he should take a nap or keep trying to find shelter.

Stubbornly trying not to imagine the worst, Willie reminded himself of his goal. Find Alex, find somewhere to stay, and play it by ear from there. He even teased the thought of finding out if he still had a family. That didn’t sound likely, especially with the amnesia factored in, but this was the first time he could dare to dream bigger than the small life he’d had back in Vegas. If he did make it, it was all worth the strain he was feeling right now.

If - such a laconic, dooming word.

His legs felt too much like jelly to attempt riding again, though, and he pulled Sheldon into his lap. The cat made a few funny chirping noises at him.

“Sorry, buddy, I’m too tired,” he apologized. All the rubs against his shirt couldn’t renew his strength fast enough. Willie felt tears well up in his eyes and he couldn’t tell if they were from fear or exhaustion. Only a couple fell and immediately dried on his face.

He tried summoning the memory of Alex’s eyes, letting the ocean waves bring hope in a dire attempt to fight everything else. Their rhythm and focus remained preserved so well in his mind. If the world was made of hard, painful, unbearable things, Alex was the softness of respite. From bandaging his hand to running his fingers through his hair in comfort, there was a gentleness that made Willie believe in something greater than one day in Sin City. The waves grew and he dreamed of being washed clean and refreshed and like he could leave his soul at the shore forever and never be hurt.

They crashed over him again and again, like a lullaby. The sensation dulled the pain until he was numb. Nothing remained but the beautiful sea of green before him.

Willie didn’t know when he passed out or for how long, but he was jolted awake by feeling his body hitch up and down, like he’d gone over a bump. He heard the running of an engine and opened his eyes. A window beside him was down, and he looked directly into his own reflection in the rearview mirror of a truck. Turning to his left, he saw a person at the steering wheel through bleary eyes.

“Dad?” he muttered thoughtlessly.

“Sorry,” the voice of an older woman spoke. “Not your dad.”

Willie only blinked as he tried to orient himself. The woman had salt and pepper hair styled in a mullet and looked coarse from years of hard work.

“Pardon me for being blunt, but what the hell were you doing out there?” she rebuked. “With a cat!”

He immediately sat up in alarm, looking for Sheldon.

“He’s fine,” she assured. Willie nodded as he saw the cat sitting on top of a blanket in the back seat next to his skateboard.

“It’s a complicated story,” he told her.

“I bet it’s complicated,” she muttered in slight consternation.

There was a few minutes of silence as Willie’s mind tried to understand where he was.

“Don’t try to thank me,” the woman began speaking again. “It was only so easy to put you up in my truck after I saw you had no water, no food, nothing but a few changes of clothes and a wad of cash.”

“Thank you,” Willie said, embarrassed he hadn’t said it quicker.

“I said don’t thank me; I could’ve taken all your cash.”

He looked at her anxiously until her lip curled.

“Don’t worry, you’ve still got all of it.”

This lady was abrasive, but at least she was kind.

“I’m Bessie,” she said. “And if the name is right in your wallet, you’re William. Bet you go by Willie though.”

“How did you guess?”

“You don’t look like a William kind a’ kid.”

It was amazing how she could hold his attention so well without taking her eyes away from the road. Her intelligence was effective. It kind of made him smile.

“You hungry?” she asked. Her head nodded in the direction of a bag sitting between them. He smelled chicken and he hesitated for a moment, eyes darting between the food and her. “Go on, you can have some. I can eat more when we get to Roy’s.”

“Who’s Roy?” Willie asked, carefully pulling out a chicken wing and biting into it.

“It’s a motel. Me and my husband own it. And it looks like you’ll be our only guest tonight.”

“Oh,” he said through a mouthful of food.

“I apologize, but you need a shower,” she told him, wrinkling her nose. Willie only continued to chew in silence and bowed his head. He’d forgotten about that while he’d been focused on skating his way to freedom.

“So where is this motel at?” he asked after a few moments.

“It’s in Amboy. We’re a little ghost town out here. There’s only five of us, the rest are tourists. Sometimes we get Harrison Ford coming through.”

Willie raised his eyebrows, guessing it was impressive trivia. There were numerous names people used that he seemed to be expected to know, but unfortunately most of them he couldn’t keep track of. He silently ate his chicken, relishing in the taste.

“We’re almost there, so just sit tight and keep eating,” Bessie said.

He noticed she hadn’t mentioned anything about recent news, and while it was possible she knew about it, Willie didn’t think she would hold back her commentary if she did. He decided not to bring it up.

Not even ten minutes later they pulled up to the retro motel. Movement was agony, every bit of his exposed skin on fire. Sheldon lifted his head and meowed in curiosity as Willie opened the back door to get his things. Pulling his backpack over his shoulder, he scooped up Sheldon with one arm and grabbed his board with the other. He felt nervous claws immediately dig into his shoulder and he tried to soothe his cat the best he could.

“Shhh, buddy, it’s okay,” he whispered. It was a good thing he had a leash on.

“I have never seen a cat travelling with a skater before,” Bessie said as he followed her into Roy’s. “The things you get in this little town.”

She took him up to the main desk and pulled out a reservation book, licking her finger to turn the pages.

“Alright, let’s get you a room,” she murmured.

“I can pay to stay here,” Willie said shakily. She’d practically saved his life, and he hadn’t exactly counted how much he took from Caleb, but added onto his own money it was quite a stash. Bessie looked at him thoughtfully.

“If you insist,” she surrendered without argument.

Sheldon was sniffing everything and peering around, obviously wanting to explore.

“You can put him down for a minute, I’ll keep an eye on him,” Bessie told Willie, handing him a key and a bottled substance after he let Sheldon go. “You get yourself washed up and put this aloe on. I suggest you stay for a few days at least so those burns don’t get worse.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Willie heard himself say. Too late, he reconsidered the use of ‘ma’am’ but Bessie only smirked and shook her head. He wondered how often she picked up strangers and set them up at her motel, because she was so well prepared. Glancing at his cat, who was content to swat at some flies that had made their way inside, he went toward the room that matched the number on the key.

Showering hurt, even with cold water, but Willie tried to bear it as best he could. At least applying the aloe wasn’t too bad. He was glad he hadn’t skated with his shirt off because it wouldn’t have been any fun to try reaching certain parts of his back. Looking out the window of his room as he got dressed, the sunset was in its late stages. For a while, he simply sat on his bed and hugged his knees to his chest, watching it go down.

Now that he had time to slow down, Willie felt a huge weight finally lift off of his shoulders. He hadn’t been allowing himself to think about it as much since he was so focused on being on the move and trying to stay safe while he had Sheldon with him. Actually, he didn’t even remember when he’d crossed state lines. But he felt a little safer now. Caleb didn’t care enough to come after him all the way out here, he didn’t think. Burning down the shed had been a little dramatic, he admitted, but once people forgot the news it was probably miniscule in Caleb’s eyes compared to everything Willie had lost.

For a minute, a ball of anger grew inside his chest and Willie closed his eyes and breathed deeply in an attempt to cool it down. It was probably a good idea to take Bessie’s advice and stay a while since he was being given the opportunity. He got up and went back out to see how Sheldon was.

The cafe was quiet except for Bessie speaking on the phone with someone. Sheldon was near the cafe counter where someone had set out a bowl of water and a can of tuna. Willie went over to him and knelt down to pet him. Any motion was still a pain, but he made himself ignore it. Footsteps sounded from behind the counter and Willie looked up to see a large man with a mustache peering down at them. He appeared to be from somewhere in the Pacific Islands.

“You’ve got a nice cat,” the man said.

“Thanks,” Willie replied with a small smile as he continued running his hand from head to tail.

“Can I get you some water?”

“Oh...uh, yeah, thanks.” It was going to take a while to get used to people being kind. As the man left briefly and returned with a glass, Willie graciously took it and sat at a table. Like that, the man had disappeared and he almost questioned whether he’d actually been there.

He saw the napkins on the table and pulled one out of the dispenser. The only thing he’d actually learned how to make with origami was those little frogs, and he never seemed to use a proper piece of paper when he got the urge. Now, he didn’t have anyone to gift it to if he did make one. He sure wasn’t going to hand one to Bessie.

Just as he thought that, she came over to sit across from him.

“So what’s the plan, kid?” she asked, folding her hands casually.

Willie looked at her for a moment, unsure what to explain.

“Come on, something’s gotta motivate you to be going cross country on a skateboard,” she pointed out.

“Well,” he sighed. “I’m trying to get to Los Angeles.”

“And the bus just didn’t do it for you?”

Willie sat back, dumbfounded. Part of him knew that there were bus routes across the states, but he just hadn’t remembered that.

“Yeah, so fun fact about me: I only have a year and a half of memory, and I forgot about busses.”

Bessie raised her eyebrows, and then furrowed them.

“I’ve seen some things, I’ve seen some things, and I have seen some things. You are not something I have seen yet. I won’t ask for what your whole story is, but I can only imagine the convoluted circumstances that got you in your position.”

Willie bowed his head, unsure how he should respond. It was clear that she truly wasn’t aware of the news, though.

“Do you even know what you’ll do when you get to LA?” she asked.

“Not much,” he said, shaking his head. “But I have a start.”

“Please tell me you don’t plan to skate the rest of your way out of here.”

“Well, do I have any other way to get there?”

Bessie pursed her lips as she considered his words.

“I’d have my husband drive you out, but he just went out of town to do some business. We’re actually trying to sell the town, so once he finishes up his deal this place will be out of our hands. I can’t keep you here for long.”

The news made Willie realize just how inconvenient it was for her to have pulled him from the side of the road, and more guilt rose in his chest. He couldn’t keep getting in everyone’s way just by showing up.

“How soon is he supposed to be back?”

“A couple days. And then we’ll spend the rest of this week cleaning up and heading out.”

Feeling something touch his leg, Willie saw Sheldon had finished his can of tuna and come over to him. Picking the cat up and holding him in his lap, he looked at Bessie.

“You’ve been really generous,” he said. “You practically saved my life. I don’t know how to thank you.”

She shrugged.

“Ain’t much you can do but say it, and that’s okay. And maybe just rest enough so you’re in good shape before you get back on the road. Can you do that?”

“Yeah.” Willie nodded emphatically.

“Alright. Well, I’m going to turn in, but you hang in here as late as you like, although I don’t know what you would do.”

Willie only smiled as she got up from the table. He did the same, carrying Sheldon with him to the room. It was going to be nice having a bed and not being on the move from the second he woke up. Even with his skin continually on fire, he was able to fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

The next day he woke up and it was already noon. Sheldon was meowing to be let out the door, intermittently coming up to Willie and nudging him with his head.

“Yeah, I get the hint,” Willie laughed.

He quickly got himself together before hooking the leash to Sheldon and heading into the cafe. There were two men he hadn’t seen the day before eating lunch. It was probably a good idea to eat, considering he had slept through breakfast. The large man with the mustache was at the cafe counter, and Willie was silently relieved he hadn’t hallucinated him. It appeared he had set out the bowls of water and food already for Sheldon, who immediately went to it.

“Hello, little man,” he said as Willie came toward him. “What can Big Bo get for you?”

“Are you Big Bo?” Willie immediately loved the name.

“Absolutely.”

“Well, I could eat anything, what do you recommend?”

Big Bo thought for a minute. And then he smiled.

“I’m gonna make you a nice burrito.”

Nodding and smiling, Willie watched him leave as he went to a table and immediately began folding napkins into frogs. After a while his face got itchy, and he realized his skin had begun peeling from the burns. That was going to be fun to handle. Big Bo brought his burrito over and then tried getting attention from Sheldon.

Most of the rest of the day was pretty boring. Willie rotated between doodling on napkins, playing card games with the deck Bessie pulled out from the motel office, and walking around with Sheldon. He was reminded to consistently use the aloe vera he’d been given. Boredom rose to the point where he helped Big Bo deep clean various appliances behind the counter in the cafe. By the time they had finished, it was just time to eat a late dinner and Willie was tired out from all the cleaning.

He took a shower and tried to lightly scrub off all of the dead skin. Sheldon curiously poked his head in and got a faceful of water, causing him to make a surprised noise and run off. Willie couldn’t help but laugh with a twinge of pity as he peeked out and saw his cat glaring at him from the bed. Honestly, he wouldn’t have managed to get this far without Sheldon. It felt good not to be alone, but also feel free to just be himself and still be followed out of sheer loyalty.

The bed was already so comfortable and inviting it made Willie sad that he couldn’t stay longer. Maybe in the future he could recreate something like this place - small and friendly, where he was always prepared to help poor strangers find shelter. There wasn’t much to do here, but he could play around with ideas for his own thing. He’d definitely add a skate park, though. A strange thought occurred where he remembered Caleb’s hotel being called the Desert Oasis - the irony of it all couldn’t have been more obvious.

For the first time in weeks, Willie had a peaceful sleep.

A couple days later, Bessie’s husband still wasn’t back in town. She didn’t seem too worried about it, but Willie could feel tensions building up for himself. He was slowly running out of ways to entertain himself while his burns were finally toning down into tan lines, and he was afraid he would wear out his welcome while she was waiting for the town to be sold. His backpack was already packed and ready to go, but it was mid-morning and he still felt unsure about when was a good time to leave. For now, he simply doodled over the top of the comics in the newspaper.

The door of the cafe opened. Willie didn’t bother looking up but he overheard the conversation.

“Well, I am surprised to see you here again,” Bessie was saying.

“Hello, Bess, how’s it been?” A man’s voice was heard speaking. Willie couldn’t tell where he recognized it from.

“Slow. Buster’s been out of town. I guess we oughta tell you we’re leasing the place so you’re not in for a surprise next time you want to fly out here.”

“Leasing the town? Well, that’s a shame.”

“Any day now.”

“Any day now? If I’d known this would be the last stop I make here, I would’ve planned better. I was just gonna go out to the salt flats for a bit and then hightail it back to LA.”

Willie peeked over his shoulder. He still couldn’t see the man’s face, but he felt his heart rate go up at the mention of Los Angeles. Not wanting to appear rude, though, he continued with his doodling and tried to tune out what they were talking about. Eventually the man left the cafe and it was difficult to tell if he was going to come back or not. If it took until later that evening, he was willing to wait to find out.

In the meantime, he let Big Bo teach him how to make his special dinner rolls. The man was very quiet but he clearly loved making food and it made the process more fun. Also, Willie enjoyed the way he got called “little man” because it came out sounding so laid back and welcoming. While they waited for the dough to set, Big Bo showed him some tattoos he had and explained the symbolism of each one.

“This represents Nāmaka, the Hawaiian goddess,” he said, pointing to a woman’s face surrounded by ocean waves on his bicep. “But to me she really represents the course of life. The tide goes in, and the tide goes out, and the good things and bad things do the same. What you and me do is just ride that wave wherever it takes us in life.”

Listening intently, Willie thought back to Alex’s eyes and the countless times he used the visual of ocean waves to bring him calm amid the turbulence. Big Bo had spoken a simple concept, but it was something more powerful than anything Caleb had ever said. Something in Willie’s heart felt like he could finally find a purpose outside of all of this chaos.

After they had finished making the rolls, Willie sat eating one while petting Sheldon when he heard the door to the cafe open again. Footsteps approached and suddenly, a man Willie recognized had put his leg up on the chair across from Willie and was leaning on his knee casually. Surprise seemed to slap him over the face when he realized who he was. Indiana Jones, Han Solo, the Fugitive himself looked down at him in a bomber jacket and jeans.

“So my friend Bessie tells me you’re in a rough spot, kid,” Harrison Ford said. Willie looked back in shock. “I’ve got my own plane out there right now. You want a ride?”

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #willex #alive au #sunset curve #alex mercer #willie #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #julie molina #caleb covington #sheldon the cat #harrison ford #viva las vegas #willie alone #fiddlepickdouglas

12 notes · View notes

thecassadilla · 3 years

Text

Perfection

Pairing: Kristanna

Word Count: 2,175/AO3

Summary: After months of anticipation and preparation, Anna and Kristoff welcome their baby.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone!! This is my contribution for Kristanna Week Day 6 - Purple! This fic is a loose follow up to my day 2 fic, Thankful, and my day 3 fic, Preparations. It can also be read as a stand-alone. Enjoy!!!

Also, I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who read my fics this week! I’m so thankful for all of the support I received and I really enjoyed reading/looking at what everyone else contributed!

There were two things that became evident early on in their relationship and carried over through the years; the first, was that one of Anna’s favorite colors was purple. She liked all colors, really, but purple was special to her and many of her clothes consisted of purple fabric in various shades, ranging from lilac to violet. And of course, Kristoff was happy to oblige when she requested purple elements in their bedroom - specifically, a plum comforter set and matching valances.

The second was that she had a minor online shopping addiction. It shouldn’t have been surprising to him when a package arrived at their house in her name despite the fact that he didn’t know what the contents of the package were. She was nearing the end of her pregnancy and it was getting more and more difficult for her to get around, so her habit picked up as she ordered baby and postpartum supplies. She spent most of her days lounging on the couch with her swollen feet and ankles elevated on the ottoman in front of her, and her wedding ring hanging from a delicate, silver chain around her neck, as her fingers had swelled up as well.

“Anna, you got a package,” Kristoff said, as he entered the living room.

“Ooh, gimme!” she exclaimed, extending her arms and flexing and extending her fingers a few times.

He handed her the box and she eagerly began tearing at the tape. “What’d you order?”

“You’ll see,” she answered in a sing-song voice.

He sat down next to her and watched as she jutted her tongue out, struggling to rip open the box. “You want some help?”

“I’ve got it.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her stubbornness. She finally managed to pull out the contents of the box, ripped the plastic off the first garment, and held it up for him to see; it was a light purple robe. “That’s pretty.”

“It’s for after the baby is born,” she explained. “So I can be comfortable in the hospital but still look put together when we take pictures and people stop by to visit. It’ll be good for nursing, too, because it crosses over in the front.”

“Good idea.”

“And then, I got matching swaddles and hats for the baby. Grey if it’s a boy, and white with purple flowers if it’s a girl.” She held up the plastic packages so he could get a look at them. “I’m debating only bringing the grey one, though, because I’m sure it’s a boy.”

“You won’t be sure until the baby’s out.”

“I know, but I have the strongest gut feeling that it’s a boy. I can’t explain it, it’s like there’s a voice in my head screaming ‘boy!’”

“A couple of months ago you were sure it was a girl,” he reminded her. “You should bring both.”

“I will,” she agreed. “Do you have a gut feeling?”

“Not really. I flip-flop everyday. Today I’ve been imagining a girl, but the past few days I’ve been thinking that it’s a boy.”

“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough,” she remarked. She tore the plastic off of the last two packages before handing one of the blankets to him. “Here, feel how soft it is.”

He rubbed it between his hands. “That’s really soft, what type of material is it?”

“I can’t remember.” She took her feet off the ottoman and scooted to the edge of the couch, preparing to push herself up.

“Woah, what are you doing?”

“I have to wash all of this stuff so it’s ready for when we go to the hospital.”

“I’m more than capable of doing a load of laundry. Give ‘em to me.”

She narrowed her eyes, but obliged, handing him the blankets and her robe before crossing her arms over her chest and pouting as she leaned back into the cushions. “I’m pregnant, not incapacitated.”

“You’re extremely pregnant and swollen. You’re supposed to be keeping your legs elevated.”

“I’ll never go into labor if you won’t let me move around.”

“We already went for our walk today,” he reminded her. “Doctors’ orders were to elevate your feet, drink more water, and avoid being outdoors for long periods of time now that it’s hot out.”

“You know, I love that you’re really attentive and that you care so much, but sometimes I wish you were a teeny bit less attentive so I could get away with more.”

He chuckled. “You’ve gotten away with plenty. Besides, you only have four weeks left, maybe less.”

“Or more. God, what am I gonna do if this kid decides not to come out?”

“The good news is that the baby has to come out, sooner or later.”

“My doctor won’t induce me until I’m a week past due and I don’t know if I can last that long. This baby has got to be so squished in here.”

“I’m sure the baby is nice and comfy. Just a little bit longer.”

“But I’m already so big,” she moaned, throwing her head back. “If I get past forty weeks, you’ll have to stick a ‘wide load’ sticker on my a*s and take me to the hospital in a forklift.”

“You always did have a flair for the dramatics,” he smirked. “I know that you feel uncomfortable, but you look great and a forklift is completely unnecessary.”

“I’m ready to be done being pregnant.”

“Soon,” he promised. “You’re in the home stretch.”

“Tell him to come out,” she begged. “He listens to you.”

“Baby will come out when baby is ready to come out. There’s nothing that I can say or do that will change that.”

“Well, there is one thing you can do…”

He smiled knowingly and stood up. “I think that’s my cue to go start this load of laundry.”

“You got me into it, and you can get me out of it!” she called after him, and when he ignored her, she blathered on. “Oh, come on, you can’t just leave me hanging like that! You know as well as I do that the baby isn’t going to come out until he’s ready regardless of what we do.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It’s a girl!” the doctor yelled before placing the tiny, screaming newborn on Anna’s chest.

“Oh my god, it’s a girl,” she breathed, tears cascading down her cheeks. She shakily touched the baby for the first time as the nurses worked on cleaning her off, and squeezed Kristoff’s hand with her free hand as she murmured, “She’s so beautiful.”

“You did amazing, honey,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to her sweaty forehead. “She’s perfect.”

“And she’s so tiny,” she blubbered. “I’m already so in love with her.”

Just a little while later, they had settled into the peace and quiet of the recovery room. They hadn’t had any guests yet, and were spending quality time as a family of three.

“I’m so glad I brought the floral swaddle,” Anna commented, staring down at the perfect, little baby in her arms. The newborn was looking up at her through squinted, dark blue eyes. “I was so convinced she was a boy.”

“She needs a name,” Kristoff remarked.

“I know, but it has to be perfect,” she said, running her fingers over the baby’s wispy, blonde hair.

“Did you have something in mind?”

“I made a list of names on my phone a while back, but I don’t know if any of them will suit her.”

“Let me see,” he said, and she handed him her phone. He found the list relatively easily, and began reading off names to her. “How about Violet?”

She shook her head. “No, she’s not a Violet.”

“Emma?”

“No, it sounds too much like my sister’s name.”

The process continued as he made his way through the list, until a name close to the bottom caught his eye. “Here’s one that I really like - Grace.”

“Grace,” she echoed, with a small nod. “I think that’s her name.”

“You think?” he chuckled.

“You have to look at her and see if she’s a Grace.” She shifted in the bed and held her out for him.

He took the baby in his arms and smiled down at her; in his opinion, she was the spitting image of Anna, minus the hair color and freckles. “She’s a Grace.”

“Really?”

“Definitely.”

“And we can call her Gracie,” Anna said, pushing her lower lip out into a pout. “I love it.”

“Me too. Do you want her back now?”

“I’ve been hogging her this entire time and you’ve been so patient, it’s your turn now.”

“Okay,” he agreed with a small smile. He’d had the opportunity to hold her earlier in the day and he’d taken it, but he didn’t want to deprive Anna of any time with her. He sat down in the chair next to the bed and admired their perfect baby.

“I can’t believe she was so tiny and I was so huge,” she laughed. “Only seven pounds and two ounces.”

“You were all baby, though. She had nowhere to go but outwards, I guess.”

“I told you she was squished in there. She must be so happy that she can stretch out now.”

“You must be happy that she came early, huh? Only a week early, but still.”

“Happy is not the right word - thrilled is more like it. I was worried that she wouldn’t be born until the second week of June. I don’t know if I would’ve survived an extra week or two.”

“You’re very strong,” he commended her. “Stronger than you think. If you had to endure another two weeks, you would’ve.”

“You’re right, but I would’ve complained a lot,” she giggled.

“That’s okay, I can’t imagine that growing a human is comfortable.”

“It was so worth it, though. We got the world’s most beautiful baby out of it.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few days later, when they were settled in at home, the doorbell rang. Kristoff had gone to answer it, while Anna glanced down at the infant in her arms, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw that she was still content. It’d been a rough couple of days for all of them; Anna and Kristoff were both equally lacking sleep, with dark circles appearing under their eyes, and she was desperate for a shower, certain she smelled like spit-up. None of that mattered, though, because the baby was happy and of course, adorable as ever in a purple cotton jumpsuit.

“Who was that?” Anna asked when Kristoff appeared in the living room.

“It was just a delivery,” he assured her.

“Oh, I thought it was Elsa. She’s supposed to be on her way,” she said before furrowing her eyebrows. “Did I order something and forget about it? Is the mommy brain already getting to me?”

“No, it was something I ordered.”

“Oh, okay.” She shifted Grace from the crook of her arm and rested the baby’s face against the burp cloth on the uppermost part of her chest, by her shoulder, and gently patted her back.

“Don’t you want to know what it is?”

“Sure.”

He produced a small purple box tied with a white ribbon and handed it to her. “Good, because it’s for you.”

She could feel the tears forming in her eyes at the sight of it. “You got me a present?”

He nodded. “Mmhmm.”

She placed her opposite hand on Grace’s back, and jiggled the ribbon with her free hand to get it undone. When it finally came away from the box, she popped the top off and inside was a rectangular, silver pendant with Grace’s name engraved on it, in addition to a tiny emerald, her birthstone. “This is so beautiful.”

“It’s a push present,” he explained.

“Isn’t the baby enough of a present?”

“Yeah, well, you had to carry her around inside of you for nine months and then push her out, so I think you deserve a little something extra. And now that your ring fits on your finger again, you can put it on your necklace.”

“You’re the sweetest,” she sniffled. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“Please come closer so I can kiss you.” He obliged, scooting down a few inches and pressing a soft, warm kiss to her lips. “Thank you for my present, Kristoff. And thank you for the adorable baby.”

“I can’t take the credit on that one,” he laughed. “You did all of the hard work.”

“All of the hard work was worth it to have her here, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” She re-positioned the newborn, once again cradling her in her arms. “Would you mind unclasping my necklace and putting the pendant on? I’d love to wear it now.”

“Of course,” he said, and she leaned forward slightly, careful not to disturb the baby. He unclasped the necklace, slid the pendant on, and then draped it back over her neck. “There.”

She placed her free hand over the smooth metal. “It’s perfect.”

#kristannaweek2020 #kristanna week 2020 #kristanna #anna #kristoff bjorgman #frozen #frozen fic #my writing

25 notes · View notes

thehikingnerd · 3 years

Photo

Day 141 (10/5).

It was probably the warmest and driest night in what seemed like an eternity. I still had trouble sleeping at times from being cold or uncomfortable, but still not as bad as it has been for a while. It was nice to wake up drier than when I went to sleep for a change. I heard a vehicle pull into the gravel parking lot and quickly got out of the tent. My hope was if they were locals they might be willing to give us an early ride into town for free, if we so were lucky. I spoke with the couple that got out of the truck briefly and they were parking there and doing a day hike on the PCT. They were nice, but no dice on the ride... then I saw the lady point and say something about all the fish as they looked down at the stream and I remembered reading in the Guthooks comments that the salmon were bedding/running in this river. After the couple left, I walked onto the bridge and looked over the edge to see all kinds of salmon swimming in the shallow water below. They were a dark red/maroon with olive green heads; their bodies deteriorating from the exertion it took to get them back here, far upstream from the ocean... focusing on the pain in my feet and knees, all of a sudden I felt some connection with them and their journey. I came back just as Butt'rs emerged from his tent and and we packed up. Another vehicle came and it was a work truck that pulled up next to the house there and it looked like he was going to be there a while so I didn't ask about a potential ride into town. Besides, we were starting to get close to the time the bus would arrive. I laid some clothes out to dry as we waited and it wasn't too long before the big red shuttle bus pulled up. We saw Will get off the bus and chatted with him and the driver for a bit. Will told us he had gotten in the day before and comped near the campground for free. He also had a new sleeping pad and said that he had gone the last week or two without a sleeping pad! My jaw dropped hearing this. I don't know how this kid didn't freeze, and just remembering how crappy it had been on me, I couldn't imagine how bad it was for him on the ground! I seriously don't know how he did it. He said he boiled water in his tent one night to keep warm, but I don't know how that really helped with all the condensation that would have caused. Crazy! We got on the bus and rode it into Stehekin with a stop off at their praised bakery (seemed just normal bakery to me but I'm not big on pastries and such) but I was starving and hadn't eaten anything since before dark the night before... so I got a latte a huge sticky bun and a doughnut. It was all good but not sure if it was rave worthy. I was feeling much better free food and coffee though, and we got back on the bus and went into the "town". We arrived at around 11am and had to get everything done by the time the bus left for its second and last round trip of the day which left at 2:30pm or so... so not much time to do everything we wanted. We went into the store there and I paid $15 for access to their WiFi and it was barely functional it was so slow. I took care of a few things online and then went with Butt'rs to the post office to pick up his resupply box and for us to both get a money order that we would then need to cash at the general store because this was the only way to get cash in the town (no ATM) and we needed cash for some things like laundry. We thought about it and decided no matter how fast we were we didn't have time to do laundry and take showers like we had wanted, but we really wanted cleans socks and to dry and few other items out so we washed our socks in the bathroom sink and then took them and put them in the dryer. I came back to the store and chose among a crappy overpriced selection for my next 4 days or so, which would also be the last leg of our hike before reaching Canada. This meant a lot of $.70 top ramen, peanut butter/Nutella and tortillas, some Snickers bars, some crackers, sardines, and chips... it wasn't looking great but would be enough to get me through... and I needed a new fuel canister, but they only had the huge ones which were $12 each and I didn't really have much of a choice. I will probably still be using this one for the next 3 years back in KY if they let me fly home with it, lol. Also, I got 3 cans of beer since they didn't have any hard alcohol for celebrating at the terminus (Butt'rs got a bottle of wine), which meant more heavy weight to carry for the last leg, and finally we paid for the round trip bus fare... all together this ran me like $80 or $90! That's not even counting the laundry or the WiFi, but I had little choice, what can you do? We packed our food away and went to the restaurant next store where I grabbed a cheeseburger and fries and we charged our batteries while we ate. The only good part about not having signal is that my phone was only needed as a map and camera and didn't use much over the past 5 days. By the time we finished eating we barely had enough time to get our laundry and finish packing up before the bus was beginning to load up. We finally met another hiker named Symba, and determined that he was the guy whose tracks we had followed for the last 3 days or so. He seemed cool and nice, but I just didn't have much time to get to know him before we were back on the bus and heading to the trail. It was all-in-all an effective and efficient in and out of town where everything that needed to happen got taken care of, and we were back at the high bridge by the afternoon. We both had to rearrange our things since they were just shoved in due to the rush. While rearranging, a nice guy from Sweden made us some coffee with his aeropress. That was nice, especially since we didn't buy any coffee in town and I was down to just one packet of Starbucks instant coffee. He even gave us like six scoops and put in a ziplock for us. Nice! We now had coffee even if we would have to just drink it cowboy style (just mixed in and not filtered). It was probably about 3:30pm or so when we headed back out and had to climb feeling all this new weight on our backs. It was slow going, but we had decided to just make it to a campsite called "Six Mile" that was about 11 miles in. We passed through a pretty great looking campsite early on. It even had canvas tents and a cabin, but it was too soon to stop. We got to the site a little after dark as the days were getting noticeably short. We walked down to the camp and it got much colder because it was a small valley with a creek flowing through. We had smelled a campfire and were a little hopeful for what that might mean. We walked into the camp and found 3 guys around a campfire with a cute black lab. We set up camp and chatted a little, but I finally asked if they minded if we shared in their fire, it had gotten really cold really fast. They let us warm up around their fire, and we talked as we cooked our dinners. We told them about thru hiking and they told us they were on a trout fishing trip and hiking from spot to spot doing like 6 miles in a day. They went to sleep and after dinner and then we did too... even though it was very very hard to leave that warm fire.

2 notes · View notes

dredshirtroberts · 4 years

Text

Hooooo boy we are feelin some EMOTIONS today, folks.

this is not a happy post, if you’d like to skip I entirely understand, and in fact encourage doing so.

I’ve been needing to do a one of these for a lil bit because I’ve got Thoughts and Feelings and they are complicated and I can’t accurately parse them in my head so we’re gonna air it out on Tumblr like a sheet on the line during laundry day.

here’s the thing.

I got some complicated family feelings in my chest places and it fucking *sucks*.

I was kept from spending time with my family by various means over the past several years to the point where I wasn’t attending holidays - which, in my family, is just not done. You can skip a holiday but you have to make it up on another occasion and I...wasn’t doing that anymore. Two separate people had me convinced I was not loved by my family, that they did not care for or appreciate me like *they* could and that I was better off not being around my family.

And maybe they had some valid points. Which I hate admitting because they used a lot of “valid points” to get me to be completely isolated in life without anyone but them and any time I branched out I was, for lack of a better term, “punished” for having denied them my attention or time or whatever. (this is of course not as nuanced a take on it as I would prefer but this is already going to be long without me going through the whole...everything, again. You can search the captain rambles and life post tags on my blog for more on this topic).

Anyway...so I’m no longer with people who are actively trying to keep me from talking to other people/being around people who are supportive of my own efforts and goals, etc. And I was welcomed back into my family with open arms and that was...honestly unexpected. After everything I’d had told to me about how they were and how they should be and what I should feel about them...I wasn’t expecting them to love me.

I rode that rose-colored wave for a *while*. But as the world descends into chaos and I learn more things about myself that make me feel more like *me* than I have...possibly ever now that I try and think about it, I am seeing things that I had hoped had been exaggerated or made up by those in my life who had hurt me.

My parents raised me in a very right-wing conservative household. The evangelical style of christianity didn’t come until I was already an adult but the building blocks must have been there or it wouldn’t have happened so...extremely when it finally did. There were a lot of...really shitty attitudes towards other people that I didn’t recognize growing up in it - I didn’t recognize it until a lot later, in fact.

They’re...They don’t see anything wrong with the way they are. Which, you know, *sucks*.

There’s going to be a lot of dismissive phrases littered throughout this because I’m trying to be...i don’t know. I do it as a thing to lighten the mental load on myself - dismissiveness and joking around, exaggerating for effect, etc. - which i know might come off weird but like...this is really fucking bothering me guys and I...I’m doing my best.

Cause here’s the thing. I was raised believing the world was one way and that we were *right* about things. We had the answers and anyone (liberals) who didn’t agree with us were wrong and would either see the light and come to our side or were too stupid to know how wrong they were so we wouldn’t have associated with them anyway. (reasons why i’m currently frustrated with the political opposition to Republicans/Conservatives/The Right #1 actually)

And then I grew up and I saw the world was not that way. And I expected that my family would be able to see the world with the insight I had gained, and..they just...don’t.

I’ve excused a lot of their shit beliefs recently. not like, trying to defend them to anyone or anything but I don’t confront them. Mostly because I know while they won’t say it to my face, I know how they think about people who think like me (because I was there for those conversations, I was there and I thought like them and now i don’t and that makes me one of those idiots they talked about, a stupid person who can’t see the truth they believe so fully that they think is backed up by facts and figures but their facts and figures are *flawed* - mine aren’t better but I can acknowledge that and extrapolating data from all the things and coming to a conclusion is what I was taught to do but now that I do it for the wrong side what must they think of me? What must they say behind my back?)

I have...a lot of kinda fucked up shit about my family. Nothing overt, nothing that immediately screams to me “Hey fuck-o, this shit isn’t a universal experience and something is wrong here!” but it’ll be small things that I’m like “Ah, okay. Not everyone had this experience and those that did are currently working through the *trauma* of it by going to *therapy*. Hm.”

I’ve done some work in that respect and that’s good. Doesn’t make my issues go away but makes it so I can handle them a little better. Most of the time anyway.

I’m trying to make several things that are true but contradictory work together in my brain and it’s not going well.

1) my family cares about me and wants me to do well.

2) my family has hurt me in the past and is currently hurting me (though not intentionally and not maliciously - please dear god let it be unintentional and non-malicious).

3) My family does not “agree” with LGBTetc people.

4) My family do not believe that there are systemic issues inherent in the government we live in/under and the society we must participate in (Because it benefits them, and they have not had to challenge their thoughts on this before).

5) My family are kind of racist.

6) My family was my only support system when I was leaving an abusive situation.

7) ...My family might have abused me a little.

I go back and forth on point seven a *lot*. See point 2 about the intentionality/maliciousness factors. If they didn’t mean to do it, does it still count?

Does it matter if it still hurts?

My sister outright told me that she doesn’t agree with trans people (meaning she doesn’t believe you can be trans, really). But I’m okay because it’s me, and now I can be her gay best friend when we’re drinking at family stuff.

She didn’t understand why I was hurt by that. I attempted to explain it and she got defensive and angry so I just...didn’t fight about it. Just played the part. I’m her brother when it benefits her but otherwise I’m still her sister. I’m still mom and dad’s daughter. Even though I told them I’m not a girl. I told them I’m a guy.

Dad’s response was the most favorable initially and I think...he might eventually come around to it (he’s always wanted a son. he has a boy dog and has also imprinted really hard on his lawn roomba about it). He also might...not.

I’d like to transition further. Eventually. If it’s feasible. But also, right now it’s not. Right now it’s me cutting my hair short and not wearing dresses or skirts (even though they’re super comfy) because I want to avoid being misgendered as often as possible. It’s binding for uncomfortable and unsafe lengths of time because I am a MAN dammit, and I will be a man at this family function in whatever way I can. And when I go to the length that I do to be seen the way I want to be seen and I am *ignored*....

fuckin’ hurts you guys. I just fuckin’ hurts.

And I want to correct them. I want to stand up and say STOP YOU’RE HURTING ME. PLEASE. I AM NOT A GIRL. I HAVEN’T BEEN THIS WHOLE TIME I JUST DIDN’T KNOW WHY I DIDN’T FEEL RIGHT AS A GIRL. PLEASE JUST CALL ME A BOY, USE MY PRONOUNS, USE A NEW NAME OR AT LEAST THE NICKNAME THAT ISN’T MY FULL NAME.

but i don’t.

because I’m scared of losing them again.

And it’s fucked up because they’re *already* lost. They’re Fox-watchers and Trump-supporters and they don’t want to listen to science or facts or *anything* outside of what’s presented to them by pundits and talk show hosts, and the fucking EIB network with their political propaganda for anything that isn’t what the liberals want.

And I don’t know that I can get them back because they’re *real* far down that particular rabbit hole. And I’m...I’m just trying to figure out what I want in life. What makes me happy. And part of what I want is what I always wanted and never had.

I want my mom and dad to look at me, see me, see what I do see how I try and what I love and care about and tell me that I’m enough. That they love me because this is who I am and I am enough for them. Even if I wasn’t accomplished and didn’t try they would still love me because I’m *me*. and I’m their *child* and they *love me*.

And GOD it is so FUCKING painful to know that’s not a realistic thing to hope for. Because I’ve been trying for 28 GODDAMN years doing ANYTHING and EVERYTHING I can to be enough for them. I played good, christian, conservative little girl for SO goddamn long, even when I wasn’t Christian or conservative anymore, even when I saw the cracks, I wanted to be what they wanted.

And even now that I *am* what my dad wanted (a son) I’m not enough because to him i’m still a girl, to my mom I’m the failed daughter the one she didn’t do enough for so now it’s about how she fucked up and not about NO. This is ME. Stop. Stop LOOKING at me like that WHEN YOU DON’T SEE ME. YOU SEE SOME IDEALIZED VERSION OF ME WHO WAS NEVER GOING TO EXIST BECAUSE SHE WASN’T ENOUGH EITHER.

...

This is a lot more than I thought it would be, pain wise tonight, guys. My bad.

I’m still struggling with my eating habits, I’m still struggling with my self-worth, and finding what makes me feel fulfilled. I’m getting better at some of it though.

I’ve smiled and laughed more in the past week or so than I have since I came out to my family. I wouldn’t have done that without my very very good friends who are very very kind to me and god I wish I could do more than draw stupid pictures and write stupid stories for them but it makes them happy too? so i’ll just do what I can and maybe it’ll be alright.

Gonna try not to fall too deep down the abandonment issues pit tonight folks. I’m already upset enough.

Good talk.

#I was fine and then all of the sudden I was no longer fine #whoops #lol #processing trauma'll do that to a guy i guess #the captain rambles #LIFE POST #haven't tagged that in a while heh #not feelin so great tonight babes but i'll be alright eventually #i love all of you very much and if you ever feel lost or alone or are hurting (esp because of family) please know i am here for you #i don't want any of you to feel that way about it #come to my DMs send me an ask whatever you need #i love you be safe be healthy and most of all be kind

4 notes · View notes

liskantope · 4 years

Text

A personal look back on my summer 2020

My fall semester has already been going on for a little while, but in the past week the weather has suddenly switched from hot to autumny and now it feels like the summer was a period which is truly over and which I can look back upon as (unsurprisingly) one of the most singular summers of my life.

I consider myself to be excellent at autobiographical memory, probably in the 90th percentile or so, at least when it comes to being able to recall the year or month (or sometimes week) that particular events of my life occurred. I attribute this to often being able to connect various things that were going on in different areas of my life at the same time (rather like separate arcs in a television episode) in ways that allow me to anchor any particular memory to the time it occurred. Sometimes there are particular time periods where the "plot arcs" of my life somehow seem to fit together really well in a united larger story or a single flavor, whereas looking back at other periods I can with some effort remember various arcs but it's hard to hunt them out and put them together, as though they were part of a poorly-written TV episode which doesn't have any particular unity.

Summers for me have always stood apart from the years they were in (with the slight exception of the summers I spent abroad doing my first postdoc which had so little structure that my general routine was the same all year round). This summer I often looked back at the summer of 2010 (the last divisible-by-ten year), which was an example of the former: somehow all the separate arcs going on in my life at the time -- my studying and research (sadly, this was the most recent summer when I actually felt good about how studying/research was going!), stuff that was going on in my immediate family, progress in my social life, my first forays into doing local gigs as part of a band, the weather, my apartment/roommate situation, shows I was watching, and personal internal struggles I was facing -- feel like they were all nuances of the same flavor. (This was back in the days that I had cable and it so happened that Curb Your Enthusiasm was on the TV Guide Channel and I was introduced to it and watched it a lot just that summer; for years afterwards the theme tune immediately brought back the emotions that came with the flavor of summer 2010. Semi-coincidentally I've been watching a lot of Curb clips on YouTube since I noticed them appearing early this past summer.)

The following summer, summer of 2011, is an example of the latter kind of time period in my memory: I'm able to remember a bunch of separate things that went on, including a visit to Switzerland, some of the research I was trying to do, my living situation (and anticipation of a move and the shift in my social life it would bring), my discovery of the local Unitarian Universalist fellowship and being a regular attendant there the entire summer, some particular online interests, and the unpleasant bike accident I had, but it takes some effort to recall that this was all happening in the same three months. (One thing I do distinctly remember about my living situation is that my one roommate spent most of the summer out of town and that, in anticipation of my next roommate who I knew traveled less and would be much more social, I was telling myself, "Enjoy this level of privacy now because chances are you'll never have it again." I was absolutely right in my prediction that there would be much less solitude and privacy with the next roommate who I remained living with for several years, but I sort of assumed that after that I would have found some kind of a partner to be with all the time, and... oh the irony as I sit here, still continuously partner-free, after another day of the far more intense privacy and solitude of the past six months!)

This past summer, the summer of 2020, is very, very clearly bound to become a longer-term memory of the former kind: its extreme flavor is unmistakable. As is probably the case for most of us, my experience of summer 2020 has been shaped almost entirely shaped by the pandemic we're still in the midst of. For me this has meant constantly being home alone (although I settled pretty soon on into a pattern of going on daily bike rides and weekly supermarket trips plus a number of other types of errands. Also, a caveat to the rest of this paragraph is that my parents visited one weekend and that provided an exception to some of the otherwise constant conditions below.) I became uncharacteristically super introverted and very intent on making as much research progress as possible in the absence of teaching duties. None of this has been too unpleasant, but there has been a complete and utter lack of any form of fun, both in traveling (this may hold the record of the only summer where I stayed in the same 6-mile radius the entire time) and in social events. The one positively pleasant thing in my life this summer was discovering the most beautiful area for cycling in any place I've lived, as well as a handful of late-evening warm-summer-night walks. The extreme degree of loneliness and the necessity of self-discipline to keep my wheels turning has been smothering, and actually I think I dealt with it much better than I would ever have imagined I could if someone had told me this was coming a year ago.

I'd say my summer was a personal success in that way and in most other ways apart from the main concrete objective of completing a research preprint, which failed quite badly and is putting my career aspirations in a very precarious place (it would have been nice to get some heavier blogging done as well). One could say that this was a less important goal than that of not letting my mental health spiral, though, and I did succeed quite well at the latter. (In fact, I was doing much worse in January and February than I was when the pandemic hit.) I'm upset that my goals seem to take me much longer than I feel they should but am glad that this doesn't seem to be due to an inability to sit down and focus on the work, as was the case with research during some summers of grad school.

Part of the flavor of summer 2020 that will live on in my memory has to do with my being home alone so much of the time, never having to get near other people, in an apartment that I kept hot, that, let's just say it took me a ridiculously long time to accumulate each laundry load and there were often T-shirts draped over my sofa to be reused for an hour or two at a time over multiple days.

While I'm continuing on this gratuitously self-absorbed vein, as I've noted that I love keeping track of personal "endurance" records, I've (again unsurprisingly, because of the situation) made a bunch of them which I'll finish by taking note of here:

Longest time without stepping out of the front door: I actually was careful to make sure I never stayed entirely inside for two days in a row, but it finally happened the weekend before last (after a late Friday night walk in my complex where I may or may not have gotten back inside by midnight). I believe it was 61 hours, or very nearly 61 hours, without exiting my apartment. This may be a lifelong record; the only other event that compares was a 2-3-day period in March 2011 when I was very feverishly ill in the wake of a snowstorm, and I don't recall how far beyond 48 hours I stayed in.

Longest time without going into my office (or even onto my campus) in over a decade of having an office: from April 2nd to August 11th. Hardly a unique one here, but I never thought I could have handled only having my home to work in for over four months.

Longest time not going near any public transportation whatsoever, since high school: Sunday March 8th (or just after midnight on March 9th, a bus ride as the final leg of the journey home from my last trip of any sort) to 26 Sundays later on September 6th because of having to leave my bike in the shop.

Longest stretch of time not withdrawing cash or paying for something in cash: since sometime in early March and counting. The only times I've touched the cash in my wallet at all during all of this time was on two occasions when I gave a bill to someone in need.

Longest time since age 19 not touching a drop of alcohol: since April 11th (at a virtual birthday party of a friend) and continuing. This smashes a record from last fall of something like 54 days.

Longest time with the thermostat completely off (no use of heat or AC): from one of the last days of March to, I think, June 4th. This was nothing to do with the pandemic (in fact, it makes the pandemic situation slightly more remarkable since I've had to be home for a lot more of the time); the spring where I am was just particularly pleasant.

Longest time not shaving my facial hair: 32 days in the late summer, breaking a record from earlier in the summer of exactly a month.

There are probably other even sillier ones, such as the fact that I’m pretty sure I didn’t put on shoes from sometime at the start of June to a few days ago. You’d also think I’d break an endurance record for not uttering a spoken word to anyone, but I haven’t kept track of that.

Let’s hope future intervals in my life are much less extreme and record-breaking; that’s the gist of what I wish for everyone right now.

#personal #autobiographical memory #covid pandemic #math research #personal records #alcohol

3 notes · View notes

forehead-enthusiast · 4 years

Text

A Buncha Tag Games (and yet not all of them)

tagged by: @eggyukhei mwah

tagging: this is a LOT of games so i’ll only tag @atinyphobe @nsheetee and @veonjun for the SECOND (2nd) game. if they or anybody wants to do any of the other games, absolutely go for it and say i tagged you <3 i’d love to see what you guys say!! (also, tk if you felt like you wanted to answer my questions from the second game i’d be interested to see!)

One:

tell me the first song that made you stan your current fave group and why did your faves attract you so much?

ok SO the song that probably got me into rv 100% (also yes ik this blog is 99% nct but rv is my forever fave no question) was probably ice cream cake!! i had been a casual listener of many groups up until that point and had never really stanned anyone, but icc was so infectious i found myself watching it over and over. i had heard happiness and be natural before but hadn’t really listened too closely, so icc was the song that captured me. after that, dumb dumb only cemented my love for them more, and the red is still one of my favorite kpop albums to date. rv attracted me primarily because of their incredible vocals and their versatility in genres and concepts. i still get so excited wondering what they’ll tackle next!! they’re just soooo unique and have one of, if not the best discographies of any group. i cannot stress enough, I. Love. RV!! also they’re funny and gay so. anyway stream monster once it drops uwu

Two:

rule: answer the ten questions and write your own!

1. what is your favorite song that’s been released during quarantine? ooooo honestly??? probably something off of Sawayama. literally every song bangs so hard i highly recommend that album to anyone!! i can’t pick a favorite off it but who’s gonna save you now is awesome and xs is just,,, chef’s kiss

2. what is your greatest mishap when you tried cooking? (or something you’ve witnessed) one time, while making soup at my late grandmother’s house on her like gas stove, i put a lid on a pot and somehow that led the pot to be engulfed in flames. IN MY DEFENSE i was like 7, and i’m great at cooking/baking now

3. what’s your go-to outfit or article of clothing? oh i love a nice dress. they can be casual or formal, and you look like you put effort into your outfit except i didn’t because i didn’t have to match anything yo!!!! also shorts have trouble fitting me cause i’m a weird body type so dresses tend to be very comfy for me

4. what is your comfort food? am i allowed to say like all food??? eating in itself is comforting,,, that sounds depressing but also i just like eating yummy food. i guess i’d say like my dad’s fried rice?? its my fave and no one makes it like him soooo

5. what singular moment in your life would you like to relive? i couldn’t tell if this meant like, a good moment you want to re-experience or go back in time and redo a moment and fix it. it’s kind of a hard question so i might cop out and go with a bit of a silly answer: i want to relive the hi touch with astro...... i wanna look at rocky’s beautiful eyes and touch moonbin’s hand ok,,,,

6. what is your favorite line and/or character from a movie, show, or book? i got a bunch but a few off the top of my head are genie lo (the epic crush of genie lo), ty lee, suki (atla), klaus, and ben (umbrella academy)

7. if you could only choose one ice cream flavor and pizza topping/style for the rest of your life, what would it be? ice cream flavor: this very specific one from a local store that is banana ice cream with strawberries and oreo mixed in. it is heaaaavenly. as for pizza topping, i love a breakfast type pizza with an egg on top and like sausage and stuff!!!

8. what is the worst injury you’ve ever had or witnessed? funny enough, i’ve actually gotten badly injured quite a few times, and always on the face!! god hates me. the worst was probably when i hit a metal bench with my face and it took a chunk out of my cheek. i still have the scar! as for “witnessed” i accidentally broke a grown man’s rib once as a child, so i guess that would count.

9. would you rather explore the unknown of space or the bottom of the ocean? oceaaaan!! i answered this in some other game, but i like how mysterious and yet close the ocean is. like proximity wise it’s so near, yet there’s an insane amount we know nothing about. that’s so frightening but so intriguing

10. if you could be any cartoon character, who would you be? my first thought was literally “kirby. eat fast” GOD my followers are gonna think i’m just a glutton and they’re not even gonna be wrong im dying. but uhh idk mulan or smth?

my questions:

what is your go-to feel good movie?

are you the type of person who’s indecisive about buying, or the type to impulse buy once you see something you like?

do you prefer chocolate-y or fruity candy?

what idol do you think is most similar to you? (not your bias necessarily)

do you have any silly dealbreakers? if so, what are they?

what do you do to unwind?

what is a small thing you like to do for people you love? (be it sending memes, remembering their favorite shows, etc)

what’s/who’s your favorite myth/mythological being?

what is a non-typical pet you would want to have?

do you say pronounce data as day-ta or dah-ta?

THREE

rule: bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations, then tag nine people.

AIR ༉⋆͙̈

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see the dawn / the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / i meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

FIRE ༉⋆͙̈

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped jeans and overalls / i play an organized sport / i love dogs / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy road trips / summer is my favorite season / my radio is always playing

WATER ༉⋆͙̈

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep past midday most days / i love simply lit dinners and fluorescent signs / i rewatch kids shows out of nostalgia / i see emotions in colors not words

EARTH ༉⋆͙̈

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love this chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life

AETHER ༉⋆͙̈

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / i always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i have recovered from a mental disorder / i can love unconditionally

FOUR

the ultimate tag: answer whichever ones you want to because there are a lot and then tag a few blogs you’d like to get to know better!

PERSONAL

name: sarah

nickname: bells

birthday: april 17th

zodiac: aries

nationality: chinese american

languages: english, some spanish, some korean

gender: female

sexuality: baby bi bi bi~

height: 5′10

BLOG STUFF

inspiration for muse: i suppose nct since i write for them the most?? but i feel like sometimes i come up with the idea before i think of a member so sometimes the muse is just my own fantasies oops

meaning behind my url: i made it at a time where loads of idols were getting bangs and honestly i believe most of them look infinitely better without them, thus i was and still am enthusiastic about foreheads.

blog established: like winter of 2018...?? i think

followers: over 2.5k but most deactivated/left during my hiatus lol

FAVORITES

favourite animals: sharks, chickens, snakes, cats, penguins

favourite books: the epic crush of genie lo and then iron will of genie lo, PERIOD

favourite colour: pink and purple!!

favourite fictional characters: lol, again, genie lo, ty lee, suki, klaus, ben, and just a few more: richard and evelyn o’connell (the mummy), dave (dave), michael (the good place)

favourite flower: sunflower

favourite scent: baking chocolate, heating butter, blackberry, wisteria

favourite season: probably spring! i like warmth but not HEAT

RANDOM

average hours of sleep: ugh idek i sleep horribly

cats or dogs: both, but unfortunately i’ve never had either

coffee, tea or hot chocolate: tea but then hot chocolate

current time: 5:29pm

dream trip: go to paris and eat loads of pastries and enjoy the fashions and beauty of the city, and also learn to bake better maybe?

dream job: actress

hobbies: making jewelry, drawing, singing, reading comics

hogwarts house: according to the quizzes, all of them. people who have just met me think slytherin or gryffindor, people who i’m friends with think ravenclaw or hufflepuff, people who know me really well know you can’t box a person into oversimplified archetypes :’) in my assessment of myself, it varies by the day, but i think perhaps gryffindor today?

last movie watched: hot fuzz (a classic)

last song listened to: summer breeze by sf9

no. of blankets you sleep with: like 2

random fact(s): i won lego building competitions as a child, one of my dream roles is anastasia from the musical named after her, i played violin for a very short time, i bake the cakes for all my family and friends’ birthdays, i have strangely strong grip strength

SIX

10 songs i can’t stop listening to:

love me 4 me- rina sawayama

cherry- rina sawayama

in & out- red velvet

crush culture- conan gray

manic- conan gray

the king- conan gray

summer- pentagon

told you now- jeremy jordan (originally sung by sam smith)

fuck this world (interlude)- rina sawayama

someone who loves me- sara bareilles

#these were sooooooooooo fun!!#thank you for tagging me eggy #i feel like i maybe exposed myself for being a gluttonous fool tho #lmaoooo #fr tho try these games out!! so fun #sarah.tmi #tag games

2 notes · View notes

etherealwaifgoddess · 5 years

Text

What He Wants (Pt. 20)

Main Characters: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader

Summary: On going series of Bucky getting his shit together and falling in love with you.

Warnings/ Content: none, just an unexpected visitor, a protective Bucky, and a very worried Pepper Potts

Word Count: 1554

Author’s Note: Well lovelies, we’re in the endgame now. We have probably two days left depending on how long I decide to draw this out/ how long it takes me to scrub over the last four parts. Yep, we’re going to 24 parts total. Then that’ll be all folks. But let’s not dwell, we still have a little left in this journey. For now, let’s find out who was knocking at your door so early in the morning...

If you missed the first few parts, you can read them here: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

XOXO - Ash

What He Wants, Pt. 20

Bucky opens your front door to reveal a very confused Director of SHIELD. “Barnes, this is a surprise.” he says as he enters your apartment.

“Hi Fury.” you say affectionately, going over to give him a quick hug. Despite what most of the agency thinks, you know for a fact that Fury is a sweetheart. He rarely shows it but you have spent enough time with him over the past eleven years to have built up a solid friendship with the man.

Fury purses his lips and glares at Bucky but he accepts your hug and reciprocates it. “You didn’t tell me you had collected a stray, Minnie.”

“I did too! You knew he was flying back to stay with me.” you protest. Bucky moves next to you to pull you in against his side by your waist, it’s blatantly territorial but you let him.

“Yes, but letting him crash here is very different than the lack of clothing going on here. And I’m betting if I so much as move wrong towards you, lover boy here would have me split in two.”

Bucky shrugs and nods at Fury who chuckles at his brazenness.

You turn bright red as you realize you’re in only a t-shirt and Bucky is just in his sweatpants. It looks, well, it looks like exactly what it is. “Come on, Fury. I’m a grown up.”

“I know you are. I’m just a little surprised. Never seen you with a man before, Minerva.”

Your face flushes even harder. “I’m selective.” you bite back at him.

Fury laughs hard and recovers himself quickly. “So what’s the deal here, Barnes? Do I need to ask what your intentions are with our girl?”

Bucky’s grin is wolfish, “Well, Fury, I just got done making her breakfast and once we’re done I was gonna take her back to bed and-”

“No!” you yelp, cutting him off, “Nope, don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

Fury is laughing again, “I get the idea, Barnes. How long is your little sabbatical going to take?”

Bucky gives you a sidelong look before responding. He hasn’t had a chance to talk to you about it yet and doesn’t want to over step, but he can’t imagine leaving your side anytime soon. “Take me off the list for now. I won’t be doing any more missions for a while. I’ve already emailed Pepper letting her know I’m out indefinitely.”

This is news to you. You had hoped but didn’t expect him to really step away from it all. “You didn’t tell me that.” you say, your voice hopeful.

Bucky kisses your cheek, “I was going to over breakfast. I don’t want to get pulled away right now. I’m going with you to work next week, see how it goes.”

“Okay, we’ll see how it goes.” you agree. Your heart is beating out of your chest and you jump when Fury clears his throat.

“Well, isn’t this cute.” he deadpans, “Minnie, if you need anything, call.” he says fondly to you before shooting another glare at Bucky, “Barnes, if you need me, good luck.”

Bucky laughs and you roll your eyes. Fury hands the case he’s been holding to Bucky and he thanks him for the delivery.

“Yeah, well, I hadn’t seen our girl here in a while.” Fury shrugs and turns to you, “Your paycheck from the mission was deposited yesterday, by the way. And Barnes, the kids at St. Agnes and the shelter over on East 33rd were both very appreciative of the donations. They’re set up nicely for the foreseeable future.”

You both thank him and Fury says his goodbyes, reminding you again to call if you need him.

“I didn’t expect him to show up like that.” you tell Bucky as you sit back down to your breakfast.

“He’s just looking after you. Probably wanted to make sure you were okay since he knew I was crashing here.” Bucky guesses.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him surprised like that before. He cares though, I can’t fault him for that.”

“Absolutely not, the more people keeping an eye on you the better.”

You pout at him, only slightly offended, “I can take care of myself just fine, thank you.”

“Not saying you can’t, mouse. But it doesn’t hurt to have backup from some very powerful people. There’s something about you that brings out a guy’s over protective instincts.”

“Like I’m a damsel in distress?” you raise an eyebrow at him.

“No, like you’re the most valuable thing in the world and must be protected at all costs.”

Your face heats and you give him a shy smile, “Smooth talker.”

“Only the truth, doll. I would give up my right arm before I let anyone hurt you.”

You can see the seriousness in his eyes and you drop your fork. A warm, desperate feeling is bubbling up inside you, but it’s too fast, too soon, not even rational. And yet still it forms deep in your chest. You’re blinded by it and its intensity. “Bucky… I…” you flounder for words.

Bucky sees the emotions flitting across your face and he knows. He sees the emotion you’re trying to stifle down and it echoes what he’s felt forming in his chest since he woke up to you in that hospital room. It doesn’t make any sense to him either and he refuses to think too deeply on it, but it’s there and he knows it’s only getting stronger the longer he’s around you. “It’s okay, doll. Come on, eat your breakfast before it gets any colder. I’m gonna go start on the laundry.”

Bucky deposits his empty plate and cup in the sink and goes to gather up the dirty clothes. He’s glad you’re tidy by nature, all of your laundry is easy to find in a wicker basket by your dresser. His clothing is strewn between his bag and the floor next to it on his side of the bed. He smiles to himself as he picks up the socks and shirts, he has a side of the bed now. Bucky had noticed the stacked washer and dryer when he was looking for towels in the hall closet and hauls the basket, now full of both of your clothes, over to it. The dials are simplistic and close enough to the ones he had to figure it out on his own. Once he gets the load started he goes back to make the bed, wanting to give you time to eat in peace. He’s finishing up when he hears the sink running and realizes you must be starting on the dishes. Bucky makes his way back to the kitchen and sees that he was right. “Come on, mouse. I’m supposed to be doing all this.” he complains lightly.

You shake your head at him, “No way, you cooked, I’m cleaning up.”

Bucky grumbles but lets you go. He heads off to find his phone and see if Pepper has responded to him yet. It turned out she didn’t email him back, she called him. Four times. The voicemails range from curious, to annoyed, to concerned. He slips out onto the balcony to call her back.

“Hey Pepper.” he says when she answers.

“Bucky, god, you had me worried!” she yells at him.

“I’m fine, just taking some time off.”

“Time off? Your email said indefinitely. And you won’t even say where you are. What am I supposed to think, Bucky? So soon after Steve, and Tony, and you went on that stupid reckless mission…” she’s genuinely upset and Bucky feels guilty for worrying her.

“I’m sorry, Pep. I get it and I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“So where are you? What happened on the mission? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, the mission was a success. I did get shot but I’ve already healed and I decided to stay with a friend.”

“I’m not even going to start on the ‘you got shot’ part. I know all of your friends, Bucky, they’re here at the compound. So where are you?”

Bucky snorts a laugh at her determination. “I made a new friend. I really can’t tell you where I am though. I can’t do that to her, she’s very private about her life outside of SHIELD. All I’m going to say is that she’s a newly retired agent and I’m perfectly safe.”

“Wait… you’re with a woman?”

“Yes, Pepper. She’s a woman.”

“James Buchanan Barnes.” Pepper says in shock. “Is this woman a friend, or a friend?”

“I care about her very much and I'm leaving it at that. Maybe I’ll bring her out to the compound to meet you guys but don’t expect it anytime soon.”

“Wow. Just… wow. Okay. As long as your safe. If you need anything from your room here let me know how to get it to you, and you have your card so you don’t need to worry about that. I, uh, I just… wow. Okay, well, be safe and let me know if you need anything. I’ll make sure to take you out of rotation until you tell me otherwise.”

“Thanks, Pepper. I appreciate it. You take care, tell everyone I said hey.”

“You take care too, Bucky.”

They said their goodbyes and Bucky heads back inside to you.

Tag List Lovelies: @my-current-fandom-is @blacklightguidesnic @amazonianbeauty@ladyemofhousestark@abswritesfandoms @rupestria @dark-night-sky-99

#bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fandom #marvel fangirl #marvel avengers #post endgame #post avengers endgame #what he wants

34 notes · View notes

crystaljins · 5 years

Text

Would I choose you? | 05

Characters: Jimin x Reader

Word count: 7.6K

Synopsis: Every year the graduating class of International Academy for Superheroes and Sidekicks are allocated to their future partner. They will work with their partner for the rest of their working lives.

Jimin, the star of your academy and picked as the favourite to succeed in life, is not pleased when he is allocated to you, the school loser.

Superhero!au.

Notes: Whenever writing a fic I have an up-down rule. That is, what goes up, must come down. Beware readers, whenever a character gets too happy, for what goes up... must come down >:)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Following the mind-control incident, Jimin is helpful and attentive to the point it would be over-bearing were he not so sweet and earnest about it. He reacts to every wince of yours like he’s been punched in the gut. He’s so pathetic that you are forced to acquiesce and let him pamper you lest he spend the day moping and angsting.

It’s not like being pampered by your high school crush is a bad thing- far from it actually. It’s almost too enjoyable, the way he makes you breakfast or helps you with your chores or picks up your groceries for you. It’s just, you had proudly put the feelings of being enamoured by the school idol behind you and when he dotes on you like a newlywed husband might dote on his bride, it hurts. Because it reminds you that it’s actually really difficult to put a crush to death fully and that you may not have been as successful in doing so as you told yourself you were. You should be over this by now- if Jimin’s blatant disinterest didn’t do it, then the way he belittled your abilities and tried to get you to quit should have nipped any feelings in the bud. The school idol crush should be dead. Why isn’t it dead? Jimin is anything but the idol image he gives off. He’s grumpy and maddeningly perfectionist. He’s fussy and whiny and throw tantrums over literally the smallest things.

But he’s also so genuine it hurts sometimes. You can feel it in the air sometimes, clinging tight to him without even consciously extending your empathy. That intense, overwhelming desire to help people. To do the right thing. To give every aspect of himself to others. And yeah, initially he didn’t want to work with you but after deciding you were an adequate partner he’s been fiercely loyal to you. You know he’s been ignoring calls from his mother and you know he’s no longer accepting any assisting funds from his parents from the way his budget has tightened recently. Somewhere along the line he stopped being the school idol who didn’t want you and he became your partner. He’s your partner. There’s so much loaded behind that word and what it means to you and romantic feelings should not be one of those things.

So, as it stands, you can only endure his fussing for so long before something happens to give.

The inciting factor is when you rise from bed one morning to find Jimin has taken it upon himself to do your laundry for you. Perhaps he had seen the way you struggled to fold your clothes the week before with a sprained wrist and had deemed it necessary to take over for you. either way, when you walk past the balcony to find Jimin laying your clothes gently across the clothes line you make your decision. You slide open the door and poke your head through.

“Jimin,” you say urgently. He starts a little violently- he had been so engrossed in humming a song under his breath he hadn’t picked up on your presence behind him. He pauses with one of your pairs of underwear dangling between his hands, about to clip it to the line and you flush. “We need to talk.”

He glances down at where he’s holding your delicates and frowns.

“Can it wait? I’ve almost finished with this load.” He points out. Spurred onwards by your embarrassment, you stalk forward and snatch the offending garment from his hands, hoping the way you face away from him conceals the redness that sits on your cheeks.

“I can do it myself.” You mumble. This earns a round of protests from him- he grabs the panties and chucks them in the laundry basket and ushers you outside.

He sets a glass of water in front of you after forcing you to sit down on the couch.

“It must be a little hot outside, you’re so red. Drink water- you shouldn’t exert yourself like that.” He frets. As if you weren’t a highly trained government official who spent several hours physically training yourself for extremely difficult and dangerous situations.

“Jimin.” You say again firmly. He hums his acknowledgement absent mindedly but his attention is fixed on one of the nearly faded bruises along your jawline. He assesses its healing while you attempt to gather the words to voice your thoughts. “I wanted to speak to you about your… recent behaviour.”

Jimin stiffens and sits up straighter, his attention no longer diverted to examining your mostly-healed injuries.

“Why? Did I do something hurtful again? Was it because I left the dirty dishes in the sink? I promise I woke up early to do them, and we didn’t get any ants so-“ He cries, and you cut him off before he can continue the downwards spiral any further.

“It’s too much!” You cry, squeezing your eyes shut. His anguish is such that it’s almost palpable in the air, buzzing desperately against your skin, cutting through the air in the same way a terrified scream might. At your cry the anguish subsides abruptly and a tentative probing reveals that it has been replaced with confusion.

“Too much?” Jimin echoes. “What’s too much?” He sounds so genuinely baffled. You take a deep breath, preparing to explain yourself.

“You taking care of me.” You confess. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, and I am injured so my usual chores are a little harder,” You point out, gesturing to where your arm remains suspended in a sling. “But really, I can take care of myself. I know you’re acting like this because you feel bad, but you really don’t have to! You did what you had to do. I can’t handle all this attention and you doing my chores. I need some space and independence! Please stay away from my undies.”

Jimin is silent at your admission, staring at you with an unreadable expression. Out of respect for his privacy you don’t extend your empathy and instead wait for him to voice the thoughts that are no doubt swirling around his mind.

He doesn’t speak aloud- instead he reaches forward, tentatively and slowly. He watches your expression with scrutiny until finally his hand lands against a bruise along your hairline. It is one of the nastier ones, one that refuses to fade though the others are almost completely gone. It is probably the one that allowed Jimin to knock you out and neutralise the threat while mind-controlled. His expression turns tortured as he gently grazes his fingertips over it. They trail across your forehead and down your cheek and then smooth against your jaw. It is embarrassing but the blush from earlier returns full force and your skin tingles in the trail he leaves.

“J-Jimin,” You say, and you curse yourself for the way you stutter. His gaze meets yours as he awaits your next words. “You’ve apologised. So let’s put it behind us and go back to normal, ok?”

“I don’t think I can.” He says in an oddly raspy tone. At your confusion, he straightens and pulls his hand away. He shifts his position so that he is leaning his head against the back of the couch and gazes up at the ceiling. “It’s driving me nuts, knowing what I did to you. You’re my partner, and I hurt you. And not just physically too.” He admits. “And not just you, I-” He cuts himself off and shakes his head. “I feel like I don’t deserve to be a hero if I don’t do at least this much.” You sigh and also lift your gaze to the ceiling.

“Well, we can’t keep this up. What should we do, then? What will it take for you to be able to let this all go?” You question. He shrugs and buries his head in his hands. Finally after a moment of deliberation, he speaks.

“How about a deal?” He suggests lightly. Curious, you look back at him to find him already staring at you.

“A deal?” You respond. He sits up and nods seriously.

“Yes. One day. One day where I do everything that is humanely possible to make it up to you how awful I’ve been, and then I’ll treat you like normal. Like how partners should treat each other.” He proposes. “And then once the day is up, we can put it passed us and I promise not to be as intense about helping you.”

You pause to consider it. The deal is tempting, not just because Jimin is offering to spend an entire day doting on you but because finally maybe things can go back to normal with you. Perhaps you can have a healthy, good relationship when Jimin isn’t tortured with guilt like he has been. You turn and offer him a smile.

“Deal. One day for you to get it out of your system, where I go along with it, and then we put this whole thing behind us and pretend it never happened.” You accept his offer with a bright smile.

His answering smile seals the deal.

You awaken the next morning to a pleasant, sweet smell wafting in the air. Smiling slightly in your sleep, you roll onto your side and blink your eyes open.

Only to find Jimin beaming at you from your doorway.

“Jimin!” You cry, sitting up abruptly. You’re conscious of your cheesy pyjamas which proudly declare “The Diva is Sleeping” across the front. You go to scramble out of bed but he stops you.

“No, no, stay in bed!” He orders, and it is then that you register the sweet smell in the air is that of pancakes and syrups and that Jimin holds a large tray in his hands with an extravagant breakfast piled on top of it.

“What?” You ask dumbly, still slightly disorientated from your abrupt wake up. He sighs and settles down on the bed beside you. The pancakes are stacked neatly on one of Jimin’s nice plates, the ones he won’t let you touch because he’s afraid you’ll break them or use them as a shallow water dish for a lizard you’ve picked up. He’s filled a vase with water and placed a single flower that he probably plucked from the little pot of flowers you keep on the roof. There’s a mug of coffee in your favourite mug and a bowl of neatly cut strawberries, glowing like tiny, priceless rubies.

“I figured breakfast in bed was the best way to start our make-up day.” He declares proudly. “Shuffle over.” He says and you oblige so that he can settle properly on the bedspread. He rests the tray in his lap.

“Don’t you think this is going a little overboard? I’m perfectly capable of eating out in the kitch-“ You protest.

“Say ‘ahhh’.” He cuts you off, brandishing a syrup-soaked piece of pancake at you in an ominously friendly way. You stare incredulously at the loaded fork and shoot him a look that you hope declares your distaste for the activity. When you make no move to accept it and allow him to feed you, he pulls out his secret weapon.

“You promised I could do everything humanely possible to make myself feel better.” He reminds you, complete with a devastating pout and puppy dog eyes that make you feel like he’s just pierced your heart with one of the icicles he uses as a projectile weapon. You feel your resolve waver and squeeze your eyes shut to stave off the embarrassment and open your mouth.

Instantly you feel the sweetness of the pancakes flood your taste-buds. You open your eyes to find Jimin staring intently at you, awaiting your reaction.

“It’s good.” You mumble, after swallowing and chewing. His face lights up with delight.

You polish off your breakfast obediently over the next little while. Jimin keeps up a steady flow of conversation throughout it all, cheerfully informing you that the angry alley cat who has now moved into your bedroom walked passed him without picking a fight this morning, and that the little bird you’ve been nursing has been eating again and had completely devoured its breakfast of mealworms when he had offered it that morning.

It’s… nice. A warm, diffuse feeling floods you from your head to toes and it isn’t long before you are smiling back at Jimin with what you realise is contentment. You’re happy. Happier than you’ve been in a long time and it’s because of your partner, seated beside you, smiling. His eyes are warm and his hair isn’t done yet- it’s slightly messy. He’s wearing oversized pyjamas and sits cross-legged with the now-empty tray balanced across his knees. He fidgets with your bedspread as he speaks, gazing fondly off in the distance.

It takes you a moment to realise that you’ve just been staring at him with a goofy smile for a few too many moments as he awaits your answer to a question. You blink stupidly.

“Pardon?” You ask and your voice is slightly croaky. Jimin laughs and it’s easily one of the prettiest noises you’ve ever heard- better than the sweet trill of a nightingale, or the soft purr of a contented kitten.

“Have I got something on my face?” He questions with good humour, but proceeds to repeat himself before you can answer his question. “I asked if you’re ready to head out?”

You glance down at your pyjamas and he smiles.

“I’ll give you a moment to get ready and then we’ll head out.” He warns you, and then you are left alone in your room with the overwhelming sensation that perhaps you made a mistake in agreeing to this day for you can’t seem to shake the warm, fluttering sensation that fills your ribcage. The thought that these feelings will only bring trouble hover in the back of your mind as you begin your morning routine.

The day planned for you apparently involves a shopping trip. Jimin leads you through expensive department stores in search of an outfit appropriate for the evening he has planned. You get your makeup and hair done at his request when you mention that it’s something you’d like to do if you had more savings. You savour the luxury of it all and he buys you lunch from a small café in between stores. Finally in the late afternoon he settles on a beautiful red dress you never would have been daring enough to buy for yourself after he cons you into sheepishly admitting you really like it and a pair of black heels that you’ve been eyeing since moving into the city.

It appears what he was preparing you for throughout the day is at the city harbor later that evening. Jimin leads you confidently down the boardwalk towards a jetty where numerous other groups of people are dressed to the nines. One lady wobbles past in absurdly tall heels and you are grateful for the outfit Jimin had picked out. He had made every effort to let you know you looked good- a beaming compliment coupled with the invasion of a strange but tumultuous emotion that you didn’t know the name of but were flattered by nonetheless. You had changed into the heels Jimin had bought for you and Jimin had offered his arm for you to grip as you walked along since the shoes were still new and a little uncomfortable.

A young man in the suit stops you before the two of you can wonder towards a glamourous-looking both, but Jimin waves him away with tickets that have your jaw dropping.

“We’re going on the boat?” You ask incredulously. “How did you afford a river cruise?”

Jimin grins.

“One of my classmate’s parents own the company that runs these cruises and I called in a favour. Why- you don’t get seasick, do you?” He asks, worried for a moment. You shake your head and fail to conceal your awe.

“No… no… I just didn’t think I’d ever get to go on one of these.” You confess. “My parents used to take me out to watch the boats along the harbor and my siblings and I would make up stories about what was happening on the boats.” Jimin’s answering smile is so warm that you are almost knocked over with the weight of his joy- it slams into you like a sledgehammer.

“I’m glad. I picked well.” He says sincerely. He stills, before the two of you can walk up onto the boat. “I know today is about you, but can I ask one favour, before we set off?” He questions. You blink.

“Of course!” You cry. “What do you want?” He smiles mysteriously.

“For the rest of today, don’t read my emotions, ok?” He asks. Puzzled, you frown at him.

“Why?” You ask. “I mean… I won’t, but sometimes it’s hard… you kind of project them a little.”

Jimin flushes a little, red creeping up his neck as he adjusts the collar of his shirt.

“Ok, well if I’m doing that can you let me know? I’d just like to keep my emotions private tonight, if that’s ok with you.” He confesses with a cough. You are confused by the request but decide to heed it anyway.

“Will do.” You promise him.

Inside, the boat is decorated as lavishly as one might expect for an extravagant river cruise. The carpet is plush and thick- your heels sink into the deep crimson as you allow Jimin to lead you up the stairs and out into the front of the boat. At this time of day, the sun sinks sleepily into the mouth of the river. Orange spills across the waves that lap at the edge of the boat and the skyscrapers that comprise the city line sparkle a rich amber before you. A bridge crosses the mouth of the river, huge and imposing and sunlight catches the windows of cars as they zoom passed like tiny shooting stars.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Jimin asks, taking in the way your mouth gapes with awe. You nod, inhaling the cool air that rises off the river and shutting your ears to the soft sounds of music and conversation coming from inside. It mingles with the rushing sound of the river and the distant sound of gulls and you are overcome with a sense of peace and joy.

“I think that’s a bit of an understatement.” You answer, accepting a canape from a passing waiter. “This is amazing, Jimin.”

“Please, keep praising me.” He says warmly. “It does wonders for my ego- you’re really making the night enjoyable.” You laugh and the two of you fall once more into a steady, comfortable conversation. It’s strange that you’ve just spent the day together, walking around and shopping but haven’t yet run out of things to talk about. You talk about school and your different experiences, you talk about your upcoming twentieth birthday and how you think you will miss your teenage years, you talk about your plans for the future. As your partner, Jimin will become more of a constant than your family. Than anyone you date, or anyone you befriend or meet. More than colleagues- a hero and sidekick must have a bond deeper and more trusting than any other relationship in their life. It is probably why a lot of duos end up retiring and marrying each other. And your relationship is just starting up, with an exciting future on the horizon for the two of you. You can feel it in your bones.

Which is probably why an unsettling sensation starts to creep into your heart midway through the night. Jimin had leant you his suit jacket and the two of you had sat down to appreciate the live music beside one another. Because it feels so much like a date. Like a movie montage drawn straight from a romcom. The feelings you are feeling are not emotions you should be feeling for your partner.

As the cruise draws to the end and your conflict grows, Jimin leads you off the boat. He is glowing with his happiness, and grips your hand to lead you after him. Your skin tingles beneath his.

“Where are we going?” You ask him, when you realise he is not leading you towards the train station, but away from it. “The night’s over- aren’t we going home?”

Jimin shakes his head and smiles cheekily- a streetlight catches his high cheekbones and casts him in an ethereal sheen.

“It’s only eleven o’clock. We still technically have one hour until the day is up.” He points up. “Now come on, I’ve got one last surprise.”

He leads you up the river and into the harbor gardens, famous for their luscious greenery. The scent of flowers thickens the air with syrupy warmth. You find yourself clinging tightly to Jimin for balance as you stroll slowly down the gravel path to a private bench that faces the river. The only sounds this deep in the park at this time of night is the water lapping at a stone wall beneath your feet.

“Sit here!” Jimin says, pressing down your shoulders to force you down. You oblige, sinking gratefully into the park bench and admiring the way the moon hovers over the river. Jimin steps up onto the stone wall. “I haven’t practiced this, but I thought you might appreciate this. Very few get to witness my powers like this. I figured it would be a great way to end our day.” He tells you proudly. He pulls out his phone and begins to play music from it- a soft, but familiar melody.

It starts off slow, and he weaves his arms through the air but suddenly the river water rises and explodes around him in a brilliant display, perfectly in time with the song climbing in intensity. He’s putting on a water show for you, displaying his famous hydrokinetic abilities.

Before enrolling in the Academy, Jimin had been a dancer. Not seriously, or anything like that, since his path and career had been pretty much set from his birth. But as a much-loved hobby. A way to express himself in a stifling home that wanted to decide everything for him. Perhaps were he born without his powers, he would have eventually gone on to become a famous dancer. There is a grace and subtly in the way he moves his body. And the water follows that same grace and smoothness. You can see his joy, the freedom he rarely gets to feel in the way he joyfully performs. And you see the love for his powers in every movement, the way it is interwoven into his very being- Jimin is free and fluid like the water he controls. That intensity that always simmers beneath his skin, that he is never able to fully suppress, comes out in its full glory and you are taken. With him, with his skill, with his joy. With everything that he is, not just on a day where he’s gone out of his way to be kind to you, but on every day.

Without your consent, your heart begins to race as he moves in time to the music. Something warm dribbles down your cheeks- tears. He’s moved you to tears with his performance, with the care and grace and skill he controls the water with, a fountain birthed just for you to witness. The music playing from his phone ends and Jimin holds his arms out as the water which had previously been dancing playfully through the air falls back into the river with a splash. He’s slightly out of breath, but when he looks up to you it is with an exhilarated smile- his excitement slams into you at the same time you are hit with a painful realization.

These feelings are so much more than a high school crush.

“Just kiss him.” Jin says simply through a mouthful of bagel at brunch about a week later when you’ve finally been cleared to go back to work. “Bit of smoochy-smoochy mwah-mwah-mwah, and all your problems will be solved.” He says the words like they are the most simple and obvious solution.

“Please never say it like that again.” You answer with a sigh, digging your thumb and forefinger into the bridge of your nose. You should have had this conversation with one of your female friends because Jin is an idiot when it comes to matters of the heart. But no, as your best and closest friend, you had foolishly thought he had something helpful to offer you. You had been wrong.

“Why? Think about it! You live with him, right? That’s like… 24 hours a day you could be kissing him and you’re not. That’s so economically inefficient.” He argues, pointing a fork at you accusingly.

“I don’t think you know what that term means.” You point out. “And it’s not like I can just walk up to him and kiss him! There are boundaries. We’re partners, and that could mess up our relationship seriously.”

“Or it could make it better?” He insists. “How many superhero-sidekick duos end up married by the end of their careers? That could be you! Don’t fight the feelings, (Y/N)! Embrace them.”

“That’s at the end of their careers. After long, fruitful years of saving people. We’ve hardly even started out. It’s way too soon for me to be feeling this way.” You mumble softly. “The average career lasts what… 20 years? People end up married after nearly two decades of being closer to each other than anyone else. We haven’t even been partnered a month. Plus I’m pretty sure he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“I think you’re overthinking this. As long as you two can pass the monthly psych test, you can do whatever the heck you want! If he doesn’t feel the same way, you’ll move on and grow from this experience. Time heals all wounds, yaknow? And if you can’t pass the psych test, well, then you probably weren’t cut out to be a sidekick in the first place, whether he likes you back or not.” He points out. “If you can cope with this in a healthy way that involves communication and no detrimental impact upon your working relationship though, then there’s no problem! And since there’s no reversing what’s already happened and there’s no point in moping about your feelings, you might as well just act on them, or get over them. Either one works.” He signals for the bill and you pull out your phone to bank transfer him your half of the brunch. “Are you going to let a stupid crush affect your professional life?”

“No.” You answer. There is a slightly childish pout in your voice as the logic of Jin’s approach begins to leech through to you. “I am not.”

“Then don’t stress about it.” Jin says with a smile, getting to his feet. “You’ll get through it. You made it through years at the academy through sheer force of will, and you’ll make it through this. And hey, Jimin seems like a decent enough guy! There are worse people you could be paired with. I heard one duo has already dissolved and retired from opinion differences, but Jimin was willing to work through the rough patches which already makes you guys better at this!”

“I guess you’re right.” You say with a sigh. This is what you like about Jin- he makes your huge problems seem tiny and easy to cope with. He’s always able to pinpoint what scares you and process it to the point you aren’t even sure why you were worried in the first place. This is one of those times- so what if you have feelings for your partner? You can handle them. If Jimin has feelings too, you’ll work through them together, and if not, you’re sure yours will fade with time. You won his trust the first time, after all, and the two of you survived the rocky start to your partnership. Added to the reassurance Jin has just provided to you, you feel confident that the two of you can make it through anything.

The conversation shifts on to lighter things, as you recount the fun day you had with Jimin to Jin and update him on the status of some of the animals under your care. He walks you home as the two of you lightly chatter.

The conversation peters out when the two of you register two figures standing just outside your apartment block. One is unfamiliar, but the other is perhaps a little too familiar. Your heart drops when you take in the sight of Jimin’s mother. She stands tall, thin and proper and her lip are pursed like she’s just swallowed a lemon. She regards the street with distaste like she can’t believe her beloved but estranged son lives in such conditions.

Your footsteps falter but she has already spotted you. She strides towards you, a disarmingly charmingly smile stretching at her lips. The stranger follows in tow.

“Ah, (Y/N),” She calls gleefully, but there is something smug about her voice. Like she’s just gotten something she really wanted. “I was just waiting for you- I was hoping you could come somewhere with me.”

You frown. Your initial instinct is to flee. You glance at Jin who is watching the exchange with narrowed, suspicious eyes. Specifically, he’s watching the stranger, a young woman you’ve never seen before.

“You look… familiar.” Jin says. The woman straightens and offers him a smile. She’s pretty- straight teeth, well done hair, very in shape.

“We’ve never met before.” She offers kindly. “I’m here at Mrs. Park’s request.”

Jin nods but he looks unconvinced.

“It won’t take long, where we’re going.” Jimin’s mother adds hastily, still trying to convince you to accompany her. All your instincts are screaming at you not to go, however. She glances at Jin. “We’ll drive her, so you don’t need to hang around. You have a long journey home, as I understand it.” She’s being oddly civil and that makes you even more reluctant to allow Jin to leave you alone with her, but he’s a respectful person and can’t bring himself to ignore such a direct and polite dismissal. He knows no physical harm will come to you at Jimin’s mother’s hand. You grit your teeth- all she is going to do is attempt to convince you to quit and you don’t need Jin holding your hand to withstand that. You’ve withstood years of people telling you to quit and one evening with Jimin’s mother will not weaken your resolve.

“It’s fine.” You tell Jin under your breath. “I can handle her.”

He offers you a tentative smile at that and takes his leave. This leaves you alone with the metaphorical wolves.

Jimin’s mother gestures to a smooth black sedan, her expression cooling now that you’ve agreed to go somewhere with you. You try to conceal the way your hands shake as you slide onto the plush leather seats. You aren’t afraid of her. The worst she can do is insult your abilities. There is nothing she can say that will convince you to quit. You are going with her out of respect for Jimin but her words do not and should not affect you.

At least, that is what you tell yourself as you sit in silence the whole car ride. There is some low conversation between the stranger and Jimin’s mother but you can’t quite hear what they are saying and are a little frightened of what you may find should you use your empathy. You recognise the path the car takes as it winds through the city. Your suspicions are confirmed when the car pulls to a stop in the waiting bay of the public hospital.

“Why did you take me here?” You demand, when Jimin’s mother opens the door and gestures for you to get out. The stranger has remained silent the whole time- you’re not even sure why she’s present.

“I have something to show you.” Is all Jimin’s mother offers as explanation before she’s leading you away, confidently through the corridors of the hospital. The stranger follows suit and makes no attempt to converse with or acknowledge you. Finally the three of you come to a stop in front of what you recognise as the ICU. A tremor of unease buzzes against you once more. You shouldn’t have come. You don’t know what Jimin’s mother wants you to see in the ICU but it can’t be good, whatever it is. “Now, I know you’ve stubbornly refused to step down and allow me to find an appropriate partner for my son for months now, but I’m giving you once last chance. This young woman’s name is Charlotte, and she is more than happy to take your place. She’s a hero and has been on the waiting list for a year, hoping for a sidekick. After reviewing Jimin’s skills and character, she has decided she is willing to step down and work as his sidekick.”

Puzzled, you frown.

“She can’t do that? She’s not qualified?” You point out. Jimin’s mother laughs and Charlotte acknowledges you for the first time.

“I assure you, I’m plenty qualified. I’ve been working as a superhero and have picked up more than a few tricks of the trade from my former sidekick.” She says. The tone of her words is friendly, but there is a cool distaste that sits against you like a stone beneath her thin veneer of politeness. “And the government has agreed as well should both you and Jimin agree to it, since I’ve been on the waiting list for so long.”

An unpleasant feeling knots in the base of your throat. Not jealousy or fear. Just… unease. The sensation that something is wrong. That you are a lamb who has just walked into a den of lions.

“W-well, I have no intention of doing s-so.” You say, cursing yourself for the stutter. “Jimin and I work fine together. He has agreed to be my partner and I don’t see why I should step down.”

Jimin’s mother’s eyes turn icy. You feel her anger- it is cold and intense, like a blizzard. It grates along your senses like shards of glass slicing through your fragile skin. She smiles but it is a lifeless, awful smile.

“I see. Well, let it be known that I did give you the chance to step down on your own terms, but desperate times call for desperate measures.” She glances at Charlotte. “Make sure she follows me.” She orders. Charlotte nods and her hands wrap around your forearm. It is not a painful or tight grip- just firm. Enough for you to know you aren’t going anywhere she doesn’t want you to without causing a ruckus. Reluctantly, you allow yourself to be lead into the room.

A heart monitor beats steadily in the corner, signaling that the signal occupant is still alive, although just barely. You hear the steady exhale and inhale of a mechanical ventilator, telling you that the person is likely not breathing on their own. A cold sensation is filling the air, one that you know is the residual traces of sadness and grief. The people who had been in and out of this room had not heard good news. Charlotte releases your arm and steps off to the side.

“This is Emma.” You are informed by Jimin’s mother. With a start, you recognise the name and you finally take in the prone figure on the bed. It’s the young woman, the one you had attempted to help during the mind-control incident. You hadn’t really consulted with Jimin what had happened with her after you succumbed to the mind-control beam. The answer of what happened to you is plain as day before you now. “You recognise her, I see.” Jimin’s mother says, and there is a sick sort of glee she projects at your recognition. “You see, I was informed of an interesting incident a few weeks ago. Shortly after Jimin cut off contact with me, the two of you answered a distress call. Out of concern for my son, I looked into some of the aftermath and,” Her voice breaks off, with a crack but you know it is false sympathy without even having to extend your empathy. “Well, I think you can see what happened to her.”

“You’re… you’re lying.” You choke out in denial. Even as you say the words your legs take you closer to Emma without your consent. She is pale and her head is bandaged. You can hardly see her face because it is obscured by the life support apparatus. A single vase of flowers sits at her bedside. Cold, sick dread churns in your stomach. Is this the outcome of that disastrous distress call? “This… this wasn’t because of us.”

You flinch as a cold hand lands on your shoulder.

“No, no, I wasn’t implying anything like that!” She cries, her voice oozing with a sickening false sympathy. “Of course it wasn’t your fault. After all, how can you be expected to save every citizen in trouble? You’re only human.”

Her words are like a punch to the gut and you know they’re calculated to be that way but they still get to you. A traitorous tear slips down your cheeks.

“And what you do under mind control isn’t your fault, after all.” She continues on. Your eyes go wide.

“What?” You demand. You whirl around to face her. She barely manages to wipe the smile off her face in time and replace it with something you suppose is meant to look remorseful.

“Why… didn’t you know? While you were under mind control, that villain had you attack a citizen, and well… Emma was the closest to you. Jimin wasn’t able to take you down in time.”

“Are you saying… are you saying I did this to her?” You ask and it comes out as little more than a horrified whisper.

“Of course not. I just said what you do to civillians under mind control isn’t your fault.” Jimin’s mother tells you hastily. “But… it does reflect a rather poor ability, doesn’t it?” She tsks disapprovingly. “Don’t you think, Charlotte?”

Charlotte shrugs.

“I wouldn’t know. I never would have allowed myself to end up in such a position so I’ve never had to think about it.” She sniffs and her tone is nasty and derisive. Her words cut straight to your heart however. Jimin’s mother sighs.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know. I just thought you’d want to know about this. Perhaps you may reconsider your position as Jimin’s partner?” She suggests hopefully. “But of course, those sorts of things take time. I won’t force you. Just know that Jimin will be well-looked after by Charlotte should you decide the burden of the hero life is too much to bear.”

You numbly allow her to lead you out of the room after that and the door swings shut. The beeping sound of Emma’s heart monitor is a piercing noise that continues to echo in your head long after the black sedan drops you back off at your apartment.

Jimin finds you staring blankly at the wall in your apartment that evening.

It’s not that you blame yourself… except you kind of do. First of all it had been reckless to take the hit for that family without knowing what the beam did. It had been a reckless mission from start to finish and while Jimin’s impulsive actions had definitely contributed to that… you hadn’t stopped him. You had known he was in no state to fight and still let him go in. But that’s not what scares you or what has you curled up numbly on the couch for the better part of the hour. No, it’s that scary blankness in your memory. The time from where you first got hit by the beam to when you woke up in the infirmary. What had happened? What had you done? Jimin’s guilt, your extensive injuries… what had you done? How hard had you fought? Jimin had also been out of commission the past few weeks as well. He’d been so busy beating himself up that you’d forgot to ask yourself what you had done. Who else had gotten hurt? What happened to the family you had taken the hit for?

It’s all blank. Scarily, frightening blank. There is nothing to reassure you that Jimin’s mother is lying. You have no proof that she is. And how else would Emma have ended up in the ICU with such extensive injuries? She just so happened to be put into a coma around the same time as such a severe and poorly handled villain attack? And what happens… what happens if she doesn’t wake up?

Jimin just stares at you, his expression oddly cold. Blearily, you look up and meet his gaze and the fact that they are devoid of any warmth frightens you.

“Is this what you were doing?” He asks, and his voice is a hardened edge. Rough and furious. He makes no attempt to hide it and you flinch under the onslaught of his rage. “Sitting there, staring into space? This is why you weren’t answering?”

“What?” You ask dumbly, because you have no idea why he’s so upset. “What’s wrong?”

“Your phone.” He snarls. “Your phone! You didn’t answer it!” Horrified, you scramble to pull your phone out of your pocket it- sure enough there are 7 missed calls from Jimin over the last couple of hours and a distress call alert. Why didn’t your phone go off for any of these alerts? You never leave it on silent. You look up at him with terrified eyes.

“What happened?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Nothing happened.” He says harshly, making to walk past you. “Someone else answered it, another hero duo from the next zone over. But in the time it took them to get there, two civilians ended up in the ER. Two.” He pauses, whirling around. His eyes blaze with fury. “And you were sitting on the couch doing… doing what exactly? You were too busy staring into space to answer my calls? Don’t you know that a hero should always be ready to answer a distress call? That goes for a sidekick as well! How could you mess up on something so basic?”

His words hurt. So much. This isn’t the first time Jimin has lashed out at you- he has a frustrating tendency to beat himself up over every little failure and sometimes you are caught in the crossfire. Especially when the failure is because of you. But it is the first time that his words have cut so deep.

Perhaps because just a few short months ago, his words were just something to add to the mounting pile of obstacles standing between you and your dream. When he was first allocated to you, that all he was. An obstacle. Your feelings towards him were an obstacle, his attitude was an obstacle and his reluctance to work with you were all obstacles. Something to get past, to bulldoze your way through like you did with everything in your life. Your tenacity was what got you this far. But he’s not just an obstacle anymore. Not just because you have feelings for him. Somewhere, amidst the failures and successes, amidst the ups and downs, through the laughter and tears, Jimin had become your partner. Your partner. Someone who matters. Someone who is more than just an obstacle you have to overcome. He is, perhaps, one of the few people in your life whose opinion matters. And for him to say such hurtful things and for you to know that he’s right…

You get abruptly to your feet. You look away so that he doesn’t witness the way tears pool in your eyes.

“Emma.” You say, suddenly. Your voice is choked. Jimin pauses his rant, confused.

“Emma?” He echoes. “Who is Emma?”

“The civilian. From when I was mind-controlled. Did you know she was in a coma?” You demand. Your voice is cold and it hides the way you are on the verge of breaking down in hysterics. Recognition dawns in Jimin’s face and his jaw drops- he goes deathly pale.

“How did you…” He begins, and his unease sweeps over you. It’s all you need though, to confirm your worst fears. His mother had been telling the truth- Emma’s coma is somehow your fault. That is why he feels uneasy. His expression changes. “Don’t change the subject! Why did you answer your pho-“

You sweep past him without answering, into your bedroom. You keep a suitcase in your wardrobe from moving in and you pull it out and throw it on your bed. You aren’t packing neatly- you upend drawers into it and shovel all the belongings you deem as vital into it. You can get Jin to stop in for the animals you’re caring for and you know a few animals who can pass on farewell messages to Val and the alley cat, Yoongi.

When you step out of your room with your suitcase in tow, Jimin goes deathly pale.

“What are you doing?” He demands. You don’t answer, and instead walk past him. He grabs your arm as you go past, though. “(Y/N)?” He demands. The anger has drained from his posture and all you can sense in the air is his swirling confusion and panic.

“Good-bye, Jimin.” Is all you say, before you are tugging your arm free and slamming the door shut behind you.

His soft plead of “don’t go” is said to an empty apartment.

#jimin angst #jimin fluff #park jimin #jimin #jimin x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #writing

309 notes · View notes

keepcalmimthecupcake · 5 years

Text

She’s From Boston part 8

Steve McGarrett x ofc

Word count : 1616

Warnings: None

A/N: I have and will be taking some creative liberties as to Sophie’s schooling. Kind of combining a few different ways schools run and such. Shhhh. Just let it happen. XD Once again, thanks to my lovely beta @fandomoniumflurry If you want to catch up on the series, here is where you can find the other parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Feedback is lovely and fuels my muse’s fire. If you enjoy my work and would like to buy me a coffee, you can do so here. You can find all my works here.

H50 taggers:

@fandomoniumflurry

@hawaiianohana15

Steve had taken Sophie to the Culinary Institute of the Pacific admissions office less than an hour after she’d disclosed more of her past to him and had waited there while she filled out her application. There was a fee, of course, and of course the commander paid for it, much to Sophie’s dismay. She appreciated his help, but she didn’t want him paying her way all the time. “Consider it an investment in the future.” he said, echoing Michael’s words before she’d left Massachusetts. “You learn to cook even better than you already do, I get to reap the rewards of being your guinea pig. It’s a win-win situation.” Steve stated with a bright smile. Sophie couldn’t argue with him, especially when he flashed that mesmerizing grin at her.

She was anxious and on edge every time she checked the mail for the next week and a half. The admissions process was stressful with all the waiting. This was the only school she’d applied to so far and if she got in, she could start within a month. She busied herself with cleaning up the house. Laundry was done, floors swept and mopped, windows washed, on just the first day. Steve came home that night and chuckled as he looked around. “The place hasn’t been this clean in years. You know, you don’t have to do everything in one day.” He gave her a smile and a gentle hug. “It looks really good but seriously. Don’t wear yourself out. You’ve done a lot today. Junior should be here soon. Let’s all go grab dinner somewhere.”

That night was her first time at the restaurant of the Hilton Hawaiian Village. She’d stayed there two weeks when she first arrived, but never dined in their restaurant, always choosing cheaper food from a small grocery store a few streets over. The place was fantastic! The entertainment was amazing and of course, the company was great. She found herself examining the food when it was brought to them, noticing how it was presented and other such things she was sure to learn when she got into cooking school. It wouldn’t hurt to take some notes beforehand.

The dinner was great and by the time the trio arrived back home, Sophie was more than ready to fall into bed. The next few days she busied herself with some light cleaning and some reading. On the third afternoon, she decided to go online to see if there was a craft store nearby. To her happiness, there was! And, she discovered, it was on the bus line. She took what little money she had left and made her way to the shop.

She hadn’t been in a craft store in many years. Brian had never allowed her to do much that she sought pleasure in. Crocheting certainly was off the list. But as she looked around at the rows and rows of different yarns on the shelves, her eyes glistened with tears. She remembered sitting on Nana and Papa’s front porch trying to learn how to begin a project. It took her a few times, but Nana had been very patient with her and exclaimed with joy when she finally got it right.

The blanket that she’d abandoned after her parents were killed still sat unfinished in a box in Michael and Lydia’s garage. Maybe one day she would finish it. But now, she wanted to begin something new. She picked out several skeins of yarn, the colors of camouflage, and found a few hooks that were the sizes she would need. Once the items were purchased, she made her way back to the house and begun what would be a gift for Steve.

Over the next several days, after her housework duties were finished, she worked on the commander’s present. It got a little frustrating on a few parts, but she was able to figure it out and things were coming along quite nicely now. It was almost finished. On day nine, Steve had come in with a few pieces of mail. “Is there a Miss Sophie Russo in the house?” he’d called out, a bright smile on his face. “I have what could be a very important letter for her.”

Sophie rushed out from the kitchen where she was fixing herself a light snack and snatched the envelope from him. She tore it open and her eyes began welling up with tears as she read. She had to read it over a few times before the message sank in. “I got in.” she stated flatly. “They…...I GOT IN!” Her face broke into a huge smile and she flung her arms around around Steve’s neck. “Thank you, Steve!” She showed him the letter, the smile never leaving her face. He, too, was all smiles as he read the letter and congratulated her. “This calls for a celebration! I need to make some calls.”

He went upstairs to shower and make his calls as she sat looking over the materials the package contained. She’d have to get some supplies and books, but that could wait til tomorrow at least. Tonight, she would bask in this victory to reclaiming herself in full. When Steve came back down, he informed her that they were going out for dinner with the ohana. Jerry, Kamekona, Flippa, Lou, Adam, Tani, Danny and Junior would be joining them to celebrate Sophie’s big day.

She once again took some note of how the food was presented but didn’t allow herself to think too much on this. Instead, she got caught up in the atmosphere of the night. Their party was a little boisterous, but everyone was in good spirits and she laughed more than she had for a very long time. That was, until the waitress kept trying to make passes at Steve. Sophie scowled slightly at this, but didn’t say anything. Steve was free to talk to or date whoever he wanted to. One of the times, she noticed Adam looking at her during a scowl and he raised a brow. She quickly looked away and was very interested in the conversation Jerry was having with Lou.

Several times this waitress came back and tried to capture Steve’s attention and it annoyed Sophie. Still, she kept quiet about it. She didn’t understand why she was feeling so annoyed by this. Steve was her friend, her roommate, her employer even. Why was this stupid waitress getting on her nerves so much? Steve hadn’t responded to her advances, Sophie was glad to see, but that didn’t stop the wench from trying. Maybe she’s just trying a little too hard to get a good tip Sophie thought, and put the girl out of her mind to enjoy the rest of the evening.

Much food and many drinks later, the group dispersed to go home. Steve, only having had a couple beers, drove Tani and Danny home, then returned for Sophie and Junior. Once they arrived back home, Sophie sleepily wished the two men a good night and trudged up to her room. She’d intended to work more on Steve’s blanket, but instead she fell on her bed and went right to sleep.

The next morning when she woke, the house was empty. There was a note from Steve on the fridge telling her that they’d had to get to the office early today. She went about making herself some breakfast then did the dishes before putting a load of laundry in the machine. While the clothes were washing, she sat down and worked on the blanket. With any luck, she’d have it finished by this afternoon. The sun was bright and just as she decided she wanted to go sit in the back yard and read for a bit, there was a knock on the door.

She opened the door and was surprised when a delivery man from a florists’ shop stood there. “Sophie Russo?” he asked and she nodded. He smiled and pushed a beautiful arrangement of flowers toward her. “If you could sign right here……” She signed his paper and thanked him, then took the vase inside. There was a card in the middle that said simply “To Sophie. From your secret admirer.”

Her brows narrowed as she thought about who these could be from. She didn’t know many people here yet and most of those she did were already taken. None of them had shown any interest in her in that manner. She allowed herself a smile when she wondered if they were from Steve. This would be something he would do just to brighten her day, but it was still early and he was at work. He wouldn’t have had time to call for the delivery. Then panic set in when she thought about someone else they could be from. Had Brian found her? Did he know where she was staying? Suddenly, she didn’t want to be home alone anymore.

She was startled by the buzzing of the washer indicating that the load was finished. She quickly shoved the clothes in the dryer, turned it on and made her way outside and across the street to Miss Kala’s home. She knocked on the door and was glad when the woman answered. Sophie asked for a ride into town and Kala grabbed her keys and the pair was off. Sophie tried to keep her panic to a minimum and not let anyone know she was upset. When she got to the office, she greeted Jerry with a smile. “Hey, Jerry. Mind if I hang out a little while? It was kind of boring sitting at the house by myself.” was all that was offered as an explanation.

#She's From Boston #Hawaii Five-0 #H50 #Hawaii Five-0 fic #H50 fic #Steve McGarrett #boo writes

14 notes · View notes

sadpregnancymeals · 4 years

Text

WFH during a WTF time

I feel strangely prepared for working from home right now. You see, last summer, I spent 10 weeks working from my basement (which, while above ground and better lit than most basements, is still, well, a basement). My family had just moved 3,000 miles across the country, I had no friends, and no real need to leave the house. I also found myself in central North Carolina, which boasts summer temperatures of 270 degrees and 10,000% humidity -- just slightly different than the temperate environs of the Bay Area, where it is 68 degrees practically year round. Add in two toddlers to wrangle and my chances of joining a local running club or heading to trivia night at a bar were slim to none.

As a result, my days nearly all had the same routine:

8:30 am to 5 pm: Cry over Excel spreadsheets because I hadn’t understood in the job interview process just how much I really needed to know vlookup; zone out during 60-person Zoom conference calls where “introductions” seemed to take up an inordinately long amount of time; heat up a frozen DiGiorno square green pepper and mushroom pizza, and proceed to eat the ENTIRE thing directly from the pan; attempt to throw in a load of laundry and fail to complete the task because vlookup.

5 pm to 7 pm: Drive the kids to McDonald’s, procure 2 Happy Meals, and watch the Chicken McNuggets slowly congeal into the backseat of the car; visit Target recreationally, hoping the employees didn’t recognize us from the day before and read Paw Patrol anthologies on the floor of the men’s clearance section.

8 pm to 8:20 pm: I’ll spare you the saga of the kids’ “bedtime routine” and skip ahead to my 1.25 mile walk around the path near my house. I’d return absolutely drenched in sweat, having seen 2 minutes of daylight the ENTIRE day, and be mentally exhausted but just barely tired from the lack of exercise.

This routine went on, without much variation, for the next 70 days.

Eventually, I realized that I needed to make a change. I was depressed. And I was incredibly fortunate to have the resources and support to make a change. I quit the job, found a new one, and learned the following lessons:

1. Get dressed.

Even if it’s switching from your nighttime sweatpants to your daytime sweatpants, that’s totally fine!! The act of changing clothes is strangely civilizing. Bonus points for semi-frequent showers (note: a full wipe-down with your kids’ Kirkland Signature Baby Wipes counts, too! Seriously, I’m not one to judge.)

2. See humans.

Speaking of civilizing, the act of saying thank you to the person bagging your groceries, saying good morning to the nearby jogger, and waving at the delivery driver remind us that there are other people out there. People with lives both better off and worse off than yours. People with their own worries, and struggles, and heartaches. Oh and real, live humans > social media humans EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. Maybe quit social media while you’re at it, but I’ll omit preaching on that point for now.

3. Go outside.

Stop reading this (you’re 80% done anyway) and go outside. Look at the leaves on the trees, smell the air, listen to the sounds -- birds, cars driving by, whatever. You are not alone, the mundane aspects of life continue on, and will continue on, long after we are on this planet. There’s something powerful about remembering that you are just a tiny part of this grand experiment of planet Earth that helps soothe the nerves.

4. Get a hobby.

My eventual “hobby” took the form of angrily ripping up the invasive ivy off the shrubs in my front yard. It required no skill, worked up a sweat, and helped me channel some frustration into a more productive direction. That said, my husband and I *did* have creative differences when it came to my approach to pruning, so make sure your hobby is objectively productive, or maybe pick something less destructive.

5. Have a mantra.

Pick a few things that you are grateful for and make it into a catchy phrase that you can repeat to yourself when you are feeling low. You don’t have to tell anyone what those things are, and you certainly don’t have to judge yourself if they don’t seem “lofty” enough. My gratitude mantra includes peanut butter.

6. Do something that makes you slightly (or moderately) suffer for the greater good.

This suggestion has greater significance now during COVID times than it possibly might’ve in the past. Though I’d argue that this is a good practice to continue long after our world is hopefully recovered from this pandemic. I have an appointment to donate blood next Wednesday. I HATE needles sticking into my forearms and have previously used a dubious diagnosis of “anemia” to get out of this. Well, guess what? Too bad for me. There are people out there that need blood and I’m just going to have to suck it up and have a needle sticking into my forearm for 15 minutes. I will be breathing deeply and intoning the phrase “peanut butter” and hoping for the best.

0 notes

outlawbarbiex · 7 years

Text

I used to do these fuckin’ things constantly. Let’s kill some time while my laundry is drying. :P

What’s your favourite cereal? I’m not a huge cereal person, but my favorite would probably be frosted shredded wheat.

Is there a bus stop near your house? Yeah, I’m sure.

Do you prefer red wine or white wine? Red.

What’s the last airport you were at? Why were you there? Probably Nashville’s airport. I think I was there when I went to visit Tiffany in Orlando a few years ago.

Who do you live with? I recently moved in with my boyfriend and his mom.

Do you read reddit? If so, how often and what subreddits do you like? Yeah, sometimes. A good friend of mine got me on it a year or so ago. My favorite sub is probably Let’s Not Meet.

Have you recently broken up with a significant other or even just a friend? Yes, actually. I ended a seven-year relationship about a month ago.

What’s the weather like today? Is it nice enough to go outside? It’s cloudy and sprinkling, but still feels rather nice.

Do you know anyone who’s had a baby recently? Not that I can think of.

Have you used a pen or pencil today? What did you write down? No.

What does your last text message say and who is it from? Tiffany said, “Ironically looked at his twitter yesterday and he had in his bio ‘don’t cry at my funeral’ or some Shit. I was like uhh 0.0 I’m hurting for her :/ I kno she loved him.”

Can you count how many times you’ve seen your favourite film? No, I can’t. I’m not even sure I could pick just one favorite.

When was the last time you ate marshmallows? It’s been a long time. I’m not a fan.

Do you listen to any podcasts? How do you listen to them? No.

How old will you be in the year 2030? 38. Ew.

How often does the kettle in your house get used? I’ve never seen them use a kettle.

Does your skin bruise easily? Do you have any bruises right now? What from? Hahaha. I have some bruises and hickeys. 😉

What was the last thing you spent $150 or more on? Fuckin’ bills and groceries. Other than that, probably makeup.

Do you prefer yes or no questions or more open-ended questions? I like both.

What brand of toilet paper do you usually buy? Quilted Northern.

If I knocked on your door right now, would you be acceptable dressed? For sitting at home, yeah. I’m in a tank top and pajama shorts, as always

Why did you leave your last job? I moved back to Nashville.

What colour were the last socks you wore? Black.

Have you ever eaten at a restaurant and left without paying? Once, but I went back and paid the following day.

What was the last thing that made you laugh out loud? Darrell trying to act like he was pissy with me.

What’s your favourite scent of air freshener? Um, I’m not sure if I really have a favorite.

How many weddings have you ever been to? Five or so.

Do you know anyone named Nora? No.

Are your hands and feet in good condition or could you do with a mani-pedi? I could use a mani-pedi. The polish is chipping off pretty badly, especially on my fingernails. I’m awful at painting them.

When was the last time you played a board game? What did you play? I’m not sure, which means it’s been far too long. I love board games.

How old were you when you first became sexually active? 15.

Have you ever been to a festival for beer or other type of alcohol? I think so.

Do you own a record player and/or vinyls? No. I had a few vinyls, but I left them with my ex.

When was the last time you went out for drinks? A couple of weeks ago, I think. I typically drink at home.

Have you ever been to a strip club? No.

What’s your favourite kind of smoothie? Blueberry or mango.

Have you taken out the trash today? Not today.

How often do you wear make-up? I’ve gotten so into makeup over the past six months or so, but I’ve been slacking lately with everything else that’s been going on. I wore a bit yesterday, though.

What’s your opinion on The Simpsons? I’ve never watched a full episode.

Do you prefer horizontal or vertical stripes? Vertical.

What’s your favourite brand of deodorant/antiperspirant? Secret.

Do you know anyone who has been through a divorce? Yes.

If you had the money, would you take taxis everywhere instead of driving? No, I have my own car.

Have you ever done a juice cleanse? No.

Do you have any friends who you can’t decide if they’re attractive or not? No.

Is the inside of your fridge clean right now or does it need a clean out? It’s pretty clean.

When was the last time you washed the dishes? A few days ago.

Are there any magazines that you read on a regular basis? No.

Do you have to pay for parking in most places in the town/city you live in? Yes.

What’s the first thing you tend to do when you have a headache? Take Ibuprofen and drink caffeine.

Can you hear lots of traffic from your house? Does it bother you? No. Our apartment faces the back of the complex away from the road.

Have you ever had proper Canadian poutine with the squeaky cheese? No.

Do your parents know how to operate smartphones and/or computers? Yes, my mom more than my dad.

When was the last time you wore a uniform of any kind? What colour was it? Thursday when I went to work. It’s all black, at least until I get my blue shirts instead.

Have you ever lost enough weight to drop a dress size? Yes.

Do you own Monopoly? Is it the original or a special version? Yes, I have Fallout Monopoly.

What was the last thing you said out loud? “Okay, have fun.”

You have to choose one: cats or dogs? Cats.

Would someone being either a cat or dog person effect you dating them? No.

How do you travel to and from work? I drive or carpool with my boyfriend.

Do you primarily use cash or card for your purchases? Why? Card. I hardly ever have cash.

Have you ever been to a stadium concert? Yes.

What’s your favourite flavour of soda, pop or whatever else you call it? Mello Yello.

What level of brightness do you usually keep your phone at? I typically keep it as low as it will go, but it automatically adjusts to the lighting.

Have you ever attended a religious or private school? No.

Do you have any pets and are they cuddly? I left my cat with my ex.

What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? Fucking Captain D’s. I took the first job I could find when I was taking care of my mom after her surgery. It was the most miserable four months of my life.

How many cars does your household own? All three of us have our own cars.

Do you know anyone named Edward or any nickname of that? Yeah, my brother-in-law.

What time do you usually have dinner? I think we typically end up eating between 6-7 PM, but it varies.

Are there any cracks or scuffs on your phone? Probably. My case is busted.

What’s your favourite meat? Steak.

Do you need glasses to read or drive or need them all the time? I don’t wear glasses, though lately I’ve been thinking I could use them while driving at night.

How did you celebrate your last New Years Eve? Man, I don’t even remember at this point. I don’t think I did much of anything.

Is the internet fast where you live? Yes.

What is your favourite meal of the day and why? I love breakfast foods, though lately I haven’t been eating breakfast most days.

Do you like long surveys or short surveys better? Either are fine. I used to do these things constantly.

Xbox, PlayStation or neither? PlayStation.

Have you ever been to a cocktail bar? Yes.

Do you consider yourself a fast typer? Yes.

What’s the best amusement park you’ve ever visited? I’ve only ever been to Beech Bend.

Do you keep the cabinets in your kitchen and bathroom organized? Yes.

Have you ever had a romantic fling? Yes.

Are you a very forgetful person? Sometimes, though it’s not as bad as it used to be since I’ve stopped smoking pot.

What was the last movie you saw in the cinema? Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2.

What colour is your shampoo? It’s like… silvery gray.

Are you doing anything tomorrow? Yes. I need to go to the old apartment and get the last load of my things, take my ex a couple of things, grocery shop, etc.

Do you know anyone who’s gotten pregnant over the age of 40? Not that I know of.

Who does most of the grocery shopping in your home? My boyfriend’s mom, though I went with her last week and probably will this week, too.

Are you listening to music right now? Yes. Wish U the Best by Blackbear.

What was the last thing you had to eat? An oreo cheesecake blizzard from Dairy Queen.Bottom of Form

What would you say is the worst part of high school, period? Probably the cliques.

What is your favorite color of apple? Red, green or yellow? Red.

How old will you be on your mother’s 68th birthday? Is that ‘old’ to you? 36. I suppose that’s not too old.

Ever thought you were dying of something you weren’t even close to having? Probably.

Ever want to be a doctor? Is it because of all the hospital shows? Yes.

What do you think of all these reality shows that try to alter personality? I don’t know or care. I’m not a fan of “reality” television.

Where are your favorite pair of shoes in the whole world right now? They’re at my old apartment.

Do you live anywhere near a mall? Which one exactly? I think the closest one is probably Rivergate.

Do you like drawing smiley faces or do you think they’re overrated? Uh, they’re fine.

If you were dying who would you say goodbye to first out of everyone? My nephews, I guess.

Are you someone who actually likes to babysit children? I typically don’t mind.

Do you ever have those ‘ah ha!’ moments? Do those annoy you? Yes, but they don’t annoy me.

Do you hardly ever remember where you put things at? No.

When is the next time you’ll eat a cupcake, if you know when? I don’t know.

Does your family go on a lot of vacations? Are they more boring or exciting? Unfortunately, no. I was actually talking to Betty about this a couple nights ago.

Where did you last buy socks from? What do those socks look like? I bought some plain black crew socks from Walmart a few weeks ago.

Do you ever lay in the grass and look up at the sky, just because? It’s been a while.

When do you normally go to sleep on the weekends? I’ve been going to bed about midnight every night for past few weeks.

Have you ever met someone with the same ‘biggest fear’ as you? Probably.

Do you ever have movie nights with your significant other? Yes, though it’s been a couple of weeks. I got him to watch Orange is the New Black with me before the next season so we’ve been grinding those out.

Would you rather write with a pen or a pencil? Why is this? Pen. It’s smoother and lasts longer.

Do you like candy bars? Are you trying to slack off of them? They’re okay. I don’t eat a lot of candy.

Who was the last person to call you fat, if anyone at all? I don’t know or care.

What color skin does the last person you danced with have? White.

What is your favorite number? Is it significant with your life? My favorite number has always been three, though I’m not entirely sure why.

Does anyone ever constantly act like a pervert around you? Hahahahaha, something like that.

Are you afraid of being kidnapped if you go outside at night time? No.

Has your mother ever called your school because of your grades? Yes.

What is the worst name a friend has ever called you? Do you remember? I don’t remember, but they’re probably not that great of a friend if they’re seriously calling me names.

The best field trip you’ve ever been on; where was it to anyway? Umm, probably a farm I went to as a kid, I guess.

In the next twenty minutes, what will you be doing and where will you be? I’m going to finish this, smoke a cigarette, get my clothes out of the dryer, put them away, and take a shower.

Do you like showers or baths better? Why did you choose your choice? I prefer showers. They make me feel more clean than baths do and hot water is a must.

Do you have a religion? Is it the same as your best friend’s? I’m not religious, no. I’m more spiritual, as is my best friend.

Are you a controversial person? Do your views oppose other’s? I have some views that differ from people I know, yes.

Have you ever thrown a surprise party for someone? Who for? Not that I recall.

Do you work? If so, have you ever been fired, then rehired from the place? I work. I’ve never been fired.

Can you tell when people are lying or telling the truth? Sometimes.

What would you say your average word per minute time is on the keyboard? I have no clue. I can type pretty quickly, though. I’ve been using computers for as long as I can remember.

What is your least favorite class in school? Why is this? I always dreaded math classes because it didn’t come naturally to me like English did.

Do you bite your fingernails or tap them on desks? I tap them.

Have you ever wanted to be in a band? What position exactly? When I was younger, I wanted to be a singer or a drummer in a band.

Who is your role model or hero in life if you have one? I don’t know if I really have one.

Do you ever call your cousins just to talk to them randomly? I don’t think so. I’m not very close with my extended family.

When did you last spend the night at someone’s house? A few nights ago before I actually moved in.

Do you find any of your friends’ parents creepy or really mean? No.

Do you ever have to wash your clothes at someone else’s house? No.

When is the next time you’ll go to the library? Why is this? I have no idea.

Do you like fiction or non-fiction books more? What’s your favorite? I tend to prefer non-fiction. The Harry Potter series will always be my favorite.

Do you constantly have to be told to shut up? By who? No.

Ever have a drug overdose? What did you OD on exactly? No, but I’ve probably had alcohol poisoning before.

Have you ever wanted to change your skin color because you’re not satisfied? No.

Do you know how to play pool? Are you any good at it? Yes. I used to be pretty damn good when I played all the time, but I’m sure I’m rusty now.

Do you treat others as you’d like to be treated? Have you always? I try to.

Were you a really mean kid or a sweet and quiet kid? Both at different points of my life.

Have you ever been beaten up by someone before? No.

Are you someone who likes to get in arguments or fights a lot? No.

3 notes · View notes

technicallymilkshakes · 7 years

Text

The Choices We Make (Part 2)

Member: Park Chanyeol Word Count: 1842

Part 1 || Part 2

Up to you.

Yes, perhaps it was up to you, but only in the way the sky or the stars were. A celestial net flung over your head to trap you into reaching for something untouchable. The only way to get beyond it was to keep your head down.

You looked down at the phone cradled in your lap.

[3:50 AM] Understood.

How annoying. It took just one word to succumb to Park Chanyeol.

You stared up into the shiftless dark, then rolled over and closed your eyes. There wasn’t much of a difference aside from the random sparks of color that you could see more vividly like this. Or maybe you just imagined them to be more vivid. Yes, you were certain that was it. Now that you were concentrating, everything just looked black. But then a smidgeon of something flickered at the edge of your closed-eye eyesight until the spots burst back in fireworks of color.

Even after opening your eyes to escape the haunt of your imagination, color continued to capture your gaze. The digital green of the microwave clock loomed luridly in the distance as the minutes rearranged themselves from 5:51 into 5:52.

Although you could still feel exhaustion thrumming through your body like a minor chord, you swung your legs up and over the side of the bed. There would be no rest now. You had planned an efficient two-hour nap, but listless thoughts had squirreled it away into hidey spots that you would never be able to find again.

You stared mournfully at the alarm on your phone for 6 AM and disabled it. Moping about it now would be an exercise in futility. You set your phone down, scooted onto the floor, and got out your laptop and USB stick.

Over the course of your career, you had learned to distinguish between what academia recommended for you in your profession and what actually worked for you. You liked to hold onto articles until the very end, by which point you were so sick of working on them that your deadline came nearly as a relief. But as your word processor finished loading and your document appeared, you had to resist the urge to close your laptop right then and there and miss your deadline for the first time in your life.

Thank goodness you were a professional.

Jaw clenched, you purposefully scrolled past the screenshot of a bedraggled, broken-heart-sweater wearing hooligan who had so suddenly made your life more difficult than it needed to be at 6 in the morning.

With an editor’s unforgiving eye, you went through your article and cut with surgical precision any mention of quick-to-conclusion idols. The gaps that resulted you carefully stitched together, only a thin scar remaining visible to those who knew how to read between the lines.

To complete the rest of the review, you pulled up your notes and retrieved a couple episodes of the drama from your USB, flicking to hastily written times you had jotted down alongside brief memory joggers. From this, you constructed your closing argument, methodically crossing off each bullet point from your notes as you went.

Now you fell into what you referred to as “polishing” the article. Fingers lifting off the keyboard, you read for content and double-checked your numbers. Satisfied everything checked out, you moved onto formatting, a mindless run of attaching links and organizing fonts that was quickly over. From there, you went back and read the entire thing aloud to yourself thrice, assuring that the last two read-throughs were typo free.

Leaning back, your eyes flicked to the clock on the computer’s toolbar and expelled a breath. 7:22. Not bad. Now for the last thing.

You scrolled back up. Back up to that brown haired, pensive face that you were too accustomed to seeing with a smile. You scowled back at it. Because you were faced with a dilemma. Multiple ones, really, but the less you could think about, the better. Would this image violate the terms that Chanyeol had set for you? At this point, the image only served as clickbait. You acknowledged this along with the cold, slimy shudder that crawled its way vertebra by vertebra down your spine and hoped you’d never have to acknowledge such a thing again. You could change the image, restore the rose-tinted view of yourself that would last you until your next deadline. Or you could keep this one and maybe eek a little more traffic out of it.

You stared blankly at your screen without resolution until you snapped to and looked at the clock. 7:41. Your heart stopped its wild freefall. You were sure that you fell asleep for a moment there. Thank goodness you woke up in time.

And that ultimately decided you. You sent the article off to your editor before you 1) questioned yourself any further or 2) fell asleep again. Besides, this wasn’t breaking any rules. He said you had to notify him if it was about him. And it wasn’t. You had meticulously gone through the article to make sure it wasn’t. It was just a review about a drama in which Park Chanyeol happened to appear for a few episodes. No need to justify it to yourself.

You heaved a relieved sigh and slumped sideways onto the ground. It was dusty. You hadn’t cleaned your flat in a few weeks. You should probably do that. Make your space livable again. Do some laundry, clean some dishes. Maybe go grocery shopping. Like a normal person. Or an adult. Two very different things, you thought to yourself and snorted. But the floor was surprisingly comfortable. You stretched, laying a hand on the bare skin of your stomach, and determined to do it all later.

Later, as it turned out, happened to be after lunch. You could only force your body to nap for a few hours before a stiff lower back woke you up. You hobbled together some lunch, a meager little affair of rice and Spam, and then cleaned out your refrigerator. There wasn’t much that needed cleaning. A few vegetables far past their prime. The questionable contents of a couple of containers. You scrubbed down the shelves and it looked practically good as new.

You eyed the dishes in the sink with a little more trepidation. You took it as a personal challenge to use the least amount of cutlery and plates possible per meal, so what awaited you in the sink was the culmination of at least a month’s work. In a bid to appeal to both procrastination and laziness, you decided to leave the plates to soak and come back to it later.

In the meanwhile, you cleaned the countertops, sorted your trash and recycling, picked up your clothes, and swept and mopped. Luckily, only so much space existed in your small studio apartment and you finished while the sun was still high. A pile of clean clothes still lay on your bed, while your dirty ones waited on top of your washing machine. Your laptop and its chaotic company of work stuff lay spread out same as always on the small floor table that doubled as a dining surface. Although maybe not organized, your apartment was at least passably clean.

After a quick shower, you slipped into some jeans and a comfortable sweater, then jogged out to the grocery store, disposing of your trash along the way. You had decided to forego the car today. The sight of it would make you too upset.

The grocery store could be easily overwhelming for you with its press of bodies and colors and delicious things to eat. Tackling it with a list made it more bearable. Ingredients for a simple meal. Maybe doenjang-jjigae. Some ramen. As you pulled items into the cart, you deleted the corresponding line from your phone. A notification appeared on your phone just as you were scrolling to see if you had written down shampoo and conditioner or just shampoo and the message opened before you could register what it was or who sent it.

[3:15 PM] [Drama Review] Missing… [3:15 PM] cute [3:16 PM] I especially liked the part where u talked about me w/o mentioning my name [3:16 PM] could’ve used a better pic tho :/ [3:17 PM] overall I’d give it a 6/10

You halted in the middle of the aisle but couldn’t stop yourself from watching the second dawning of your demise.

[3:19 PM] btw I got an estimate today [3:21 PM] fyi the headlight assembly alone costs about 1mil won [3:22 PM] not sure tho [3:22 PM] I might want an upgrade~

Your fingers tightened around your phone and you had to resist the irrational urge to throw it down. It would just be another thing you couldn’t afford right now.

Managing a deep, calming breath, you slid your phone into your pocket. You would just be playing into his hands if you responded right now. You grabbed a bottle of shampoo and made your way around an elderly couple, who were passively griping about how they needed something but you were in their way, to return a few items back to the shelves.

You regretted not bringing your car. Although you bought less than you had intended to, it was no walk in the park hauling multiple bags of groceries up to your flat.

By 4, you were back at your apartment, putting away your groceries. Then you rolled up your sleeves for Round 2. You wanted to be so tired by the end of this that the most rise Chanyeol might get out of you was a sigh. So you did a load of laundry, tackled the dishes in the sink, cleaned the bathroom, put away your clean clothes, and finally, made your bed.

It couldn’t be put off any longer, however. You opened your messages and stared at them for another dismal moment, and then composed your response.

[6:38 PM] How do you expect me to pay for upgrades when I can barely afford the base price?

His text came two minutes later. He must be glued to his phone, you thought derisively.

[6:40 PM] should’ve thought of that before u went crazy sasaeng mode and crashed into my car [6:41 PM] but [6:44 PM] if youre good

You waited for the next message. Your phone dimmed and then went black from inactivity. An odd jitteriness overcame you and you had to roll onto your mattress and press your face into your pillow to drown it out. It wasn’t until you were on the cusp of a day dream luring you into a sleeping one that the slight vibration of a message came. Groggy fingers fumbled for the device and brought it up to eye level. Eyes darted over the words, eyebrows furrowing. You set your phone back down and then turned your back on it, a thin sigh escaping you as you closed your eyes.

[7:01 PM] then maybe we can work something out

A/N: I live! This story lives! Praise be to the Dimpled One!! This was a trial and a half to write. Many apologies. A/N 2: Re-uploaded, but it still appears as if this fic isn’t showing in tags.

#exo #exo scenarios #chanyeol scenario #exo fanfic #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol fanfiction #exo fanfiction #Park Chanyeol #chanyeol

52 notes · View notes

subcorax · 7 years

Text

Fic: Aubade (ch. 5)

Rating: Teen

Pairing(s): Kageyama Ritsu/Suzuki Shou, Background Teru/Mob Characters: Ritsu, Shou, Teru, Mob Tags: Future fic, college setting, fluff, slow burn Chapter Word Count: 4703 Total Word Count: 21341

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Summary: Ritsu and Shou have been orbiting around each other ever since they were thirteen years old. Really, something like this was inevitable. (Based off of a prompt!)

Read on Ao3

There were six trains leaving Seasoning Station on the day they set off: two in the morning, and four in the afternoon.

Ritsu had immediately and vehemently vetoed the 6 AM train, whereas Shou had objected to taking another night train, on the grounds that he couldn’t sleep on trains at all, and he needed Ritsu awake to keep him company, so that had ruled out the two trains leaving after 6 PM. They’d both been kind of iffy about the early-afternoonish trains, knowing they were the most likely to have families and tourists and the like.

So, their little group had ended up huddled together on the platform, waiting sleepily for the 9 AM train to pull in.

Ritsu’s parents had said their goodbyes the night before at the house, so it’s just Mob, Teru, and Reigen who’ve shown up to send them off at the station. As usual, their group is receiving some odd looks from the sparse groups of people scattered around the station, although every employee they’ve met has recognized Reigen and Mob on sight.

Shou is, Ritsu thinks, not actually awake. Oh, sure, he’s standing, and he’d showered and gotten dressed and dragged luggage behind him on the walk, but he hasn’t actually formed a coherent sentence yet, and he’s been leaning on Ritsu more and more heavily for about the past five minutes. He has no less than three times flipped off Teru, who actually had the nerve to jog ahead of them to the station, is wearing neon pink running shorts, and is drinking something that looks like shit and smells like the ghost of bananas past.

Reigen, for what feels like the thousandth time, starts to drill Ritsu. “You have your phone? Your wallet?” “Yes, of course.” “Your chargers?” “Yeah, we-- wait.” It’s always worth double-checking the chargers. He leans down and partially unzips one of the pockets of the suitcase at his feet, and finding a horrifically tangled ball of two phone chargers and two laptop chargers exactly where they’d been when he’d last checked three minutes ago, nods. “Got the chargers.” Reigen still looks dissatisfied. Between his supply checks and Mob’s constant drifting back and forth from where the train schedule is posted, Ritsu thinks that the two of them are going to worrywart each other into a full blown panic. “Do you have your passport?” Ritsu blinks in confusion. “My passpo– Dad, we’re not fleeing the country!”

“Not yet!” Reigen replies, waving his arms frantically as if this is a legitimate possibility that Ritsu should’ve prepared for. He snorts and doesn’t reply, instead opting to mull over what’s more likely to get someone from his family deported from the country: Reigen’s scam business, or Teru’s fashion choices. While, sure, aspects of Reigen’s business are technically illegal, Teru’s outfits are simply in bad taste.

They hear the train before they see it, a distant chugging that breaks through the annoying bird noises and the vague chatter of the other people at the station. Around them, Ritsu sees most of the other people waiting on the platform straighten up, readjust their backpacks and jackets, start shifting around in anticipation. Surprisingly, Shou’s the same, pulling himself away from Ritsu’s side and blinking around them, looking fully awake for the first time that morning. Ritsu pushes down the handle on his little wheely case and hefts it onto his back, reaching out to take the larger suitcase from Mob. He’s not sure how he ended up carrying the most stuff, considering that out of the three bags they’ve brought, most of the stuff inside of them belongs to Shou. While Ritsu had only grabbed the bare necessities and a few jackets and shirts from his room, packing up Shou’s belongings had been a goddamn ordeal, including doing three loads of laundry from his already packed suitcase, and a two-hour long argument about whether or not it was appropriate to bring an entire desk lamp on a new move.

(“It’s my oldest friend!” Shou had argued, trying to wrestle it from Ritsu’s hands. “Six years I have known you, Suzuki, and never once has there been a working bulb in this lamp.”) Ritsu is eternally grateful that he doesn’t have a family that sobs as they send him off somewhere. The sadness he’s feeling is familiar, a pre-emptive homesickness that sinks into his stomach, makes him want to look around and take everything in so that he’ll remember the exact details of Seasoning City forever, makes him want to call the whole thing off and just stay home. Mob is smiling though, just a little, when he pulls him in for a hug, and all he feels from the aura that envelops him is warmth. “Be safe,” he murmurs into Ritsu’s shoulder. “Text me when you get there.” He receives quick but back-breaking hugs from Teru and Reigen that leave him gasping for air, but he finds that Shou got the short end of the Farewell Stick, because he looks over to see Mob giving him a hug that has him flailing with his feet a good few inches off the ground.

Reigen ushers them onto the train before they can be idiots and miss it, and Shou half climbs over Ritsu in the seats to wave out of the windows as the train starts to move. A quick jolt sends Shou sprawling, and it’s only bracing himself between the table and Ritsu’s shoulder that stops him from whacking his head on the window. Ritsu’s laughing even as he pushes Shou out of his lap, trying to get him to sit in his own goddamn seat for, oh, two minutes? Admittedly, there’s been an odd feeling of dread tinging his excitement, keeping him subdued over the past few days as they planned. It was the lingering worry that even though their plans, their situation, was becoming more and more concrete, that it wouldn’t actually happen. That some intangible, nonexistent problem would suddenly pop up and stop everything. He feels it settle, dissipate. He watches Shou move into the seats on the other side of the table, settling with his back against the window and his legs stretched out in front of him, and thinks, We’re actually doing this. It sounds almost stupidly awed to his own mind, and it’s threatening to put a giddy sort of smile on his face, and he manages to tamp down on it only because he knows that if Shou notices, he’ll ask about it, which will eventually lead to Ritsu being forced to admit that he’s feeling things, which, well, no.

Shou, for his part, manages to stay quiet and relatively still for all of three minutes before he starts fidgeting. He pulls out his phone, but seems to think better of it, because he puts it down in favour of looking over at Ritsu. “Can I borrow your phone?” On autopilot, he reaches into his pocket to hand it over, but stops himself. “Why…?” He asks, squinting, knowing he probably doesn’t want to know the answer. Shou leans over the table, making grabby hands at the phone, pouting when Ritsu moves his hand so that it’s just out of his reach. “Please? It’ll be funnier if I do it on yours!” On one hand, Shou’s desperation is kind of hilarious, and Ritsu isn’t sure he wants to know exactly what he’s planning. On the other hand, he’s got another ten hours on this train, and if he doesn’t give in now, Shou will literally carry on at him the entire time until he does. With a resigned sigh, he hands his phone over, and then groans when Shou immediately points it at him, obviously taking pictures. Instinctively, he flips Shou off, sending him a death glare, before looking at the camera and throwing up a peace sign with dead eyes. He relaxes when Shou finally puts the phone down and starts tapping away at the screen, and contents himself with staring out the window until Shou breaks the silence. “What the fuck is a Shigeo?” He asks, incredulous. Ritsu reaches out to try and snatch the phone back from Shou. “It’s my brother, you fuck, what are you sending to him?” Shou holds the phone out of his reach, contorting himself so that he can keep typing with it held above his head. Finally, he finishes and hands it back to Ritsu with a self-satisfied grin. Like the cat that got the cream, he thinks, and then two moments later, Oh god, what did he do. He taps in his passcode and finds his messaging app already open. TO: SHIGEO, TERUKI, DAD, YOUR FAVOURITE ;) [Picture Attached] [Picture Attached] we r. on the fuckin train.

FROM: DAD Language.

FROM: SHIGEO Be safe!!! <33

FROM: TERUKI Don’t look up anything inappropriate on his phone or he might kill you ;p

TO: SHIGEO, TERUKI, DAD, YOUR FAVOURITE ;) wow r00d TO: SHIGEO, TERUKI, DAD, YOUR FAVOURITE ;) I have my phone back. ignore him entirely.

FROM: YOUR FAVOURITE ;) WOW R00D

Shou, when he’s jetlagged at least, is a little like a windup toy.

He’ll run around at the speed of sound for a while, and talk your ear off given half the chance, but after a while he starts to grow noticeably… slower. Of course, he’ll protest the fact, still make a decent imitation of a hyperactive kitten, but all in all, it grows more sluggish until finally, inevitably, he keels over.

On the train? He doesn’t even last an hour. It’s easy to get drawn into a conversation with Shou, even easier to let him jump from topic to topic as something new strikes his fancy, and so Ritsu learns about Shou’s year overseas in a patchwork of unrelated information, one minute hearing about the godawful coffee served by this one particular Korean hotel, and the next about some strange western kids’ cartoon he’d seen at some ungodly hour of the morning. It’s always a fun little game with this, trying to piece together the snippets of information like puzzle pieces, except he’s working with about three different puzzles, and he can’t find any edge pieces. In this state, waving his arms around wildly to emphasize his points and cutting himself off every other sentence, Ritsu thinks it’s basically impossible to get a coherent story out of Shou. The probability goes even further down when Shou pauses mid-sentence to yawn. Ritsu finds himself yawning in response, but he manages to ask around it, “You tired?” Shou snorts. “Pff, nah. I’m great. I slept for like, seven hours yesterday.” Now, Ritsu, because he actually wanted to be awake in time to, oh, catch the train, had gone to bed at a half-decent time the previous night. He had, however, woken up for the bathroom at some point, and he knows for a fact that Shou is rather generously rounding up from not much more than three. While Shou looks awake, it’s a bad sort of awake, an ‘I really should be sleeping now oh god’ sort of awake, an ‘I am awake out of sheer determination not to be asleep’ sort of awake, the type of slow-blinking, faux-happy sort of awake that Ritsu forces after he’s just pulled an all-nighter for an essay. God, at least he’s usually had coffee or cereal or something. Shou, with a bad tendency to get nauseous in the mornings, hadn’t so much as been able to touch the water Ritsu had offered, let alone the leftover smoothie Teru had tried to shove in his face.

He tugs a jacket out of his bag and hands it over wordlessly. Shou eyes it for a moment, like a deer liable to be spooked, before reaching out and snatching it from him. There are a few moments of adjustments before he settles, arms folded on the table and the hoodie bundled on top of it as a pillow. Ritsu sees him blink heavily for a little before his eyes fall closed, and then he’s out like a light. He’s vaguely disturbed by how quickly Shou manages to fall asleep, especially in a weird position like that. Sure, he’d managed it back in high school, when his only options for quick naps had been to rest his head on the desk or risk it falling out of his cupped hands when he nodded off. Still, it had always left him stiff and vaguely sick, his stomach protesting being bent over in the single laziest yoga position in existence for any length of time. So, he doesn’t really understand why it’s Shou’s first choice, when there’s a perfectly good window right there. For his part, Ritsu isn’t quite drowsy enough to sleep, so he messes around on his phone for a while, switching from app to app until it buzzes with an email. FROM: [email protected] TO: [email protected]

Mr. Kageyama,

This email is to inform you that we have received your notification of residence change.

You will be required to vacate your dormitory at least one (1) week prior to the beginning of the new academic year, on June 30th. You must notify the University’s department of Student Housing within three (3) days of your vacating your dormitory. The department of Student Housing can be reached at +81-429-884915 .

Ritsu leans back and pulls one knee to his chest, sighing.

This was what it came down to, really, actually finding a place to live. Somewhere within walking distance of the university, with four walls, a roof, and a floor, two bedrooms, working plumbing, and included appliances. It seemed impossible. This, he had thought, this is where it will all come crashing down. And yet. They’d spent most of yesterday looking at online listings, emailing and calling landlords, setting up viewings. The less time spent in Ritsu’s dorm, the better, after all. They’d actually had to narrow down their choices, from ten to seven to about four or five places that they both agreed looked promising. He decides he might as well get something productive done while he’s here, and starts to tap out an email. FROM: [email protected] TO: [email protected]

Mr. Nishigori, My name is Kageyama Ritsu; we spoke a few days ago on the phone, about a possible tour of your apartment on Rye Street. My friend and I will be in town later tonight, and were hoping to set up a time as soon as possible. We would greatly appreciate if you could give us a set of times that work for your schedule over the next couple of days. Thank you for your time,

Kageyama Ritsu +81-9064625949

He sends a couple more emails along those lines, even gets a couple of replies, before it suddenly hits him again, this light, giddy feeling, like his heart is filled with helium and it’s trying to float into his throat. We’re actually doing this, he thinks, and stifles a vaguely hysterical giggle.

On instinct, he gives a cursory sweep of the train to make sure that nobody actually noticed the weirdo laughing to himself. Thankfully, the only other people in the compartment with them are a small family that seem to be occupying themselves with some travel game, the kind of “what can you see out of the window” tactic that his parents employed on him and Mob when they were kids in the car, and then a few more people scattered around in individual seats, either occupied by their own phones or fast asleep.

He’d shrugged on a thin hoodie this morning, to face the early morning chill as they walked to the station, but now that the sun has properly risen he finds himself uncomfortably warm and vaguely sweaty. He pulls it off, leaving it bunched at his back, and notes with absent interest that they’re driving through a forest of some sort. For the most part, the sun only manages to break through the foliage in bits and pieces, painting the compartment in shadowed, dappled greens. Occasionally though, there’ll be a gap in the trees allowing the sun to hit him. Right in the eyes. Inevitably, they chug past the forest, and Ritsu is left completely defenseless against the ball of burning hellfire in the sky. He tries holding his hand in the exact position needed to block it out, but, well, his arm gets tired pretty quickly. He tries draping his hoodie over his head, but the cavern of black fabric gets too hot to breathe in pretty quickly, and Ritsu has little-to-no interest in becoming a baked potato. He’s pretty sure this is a decent argument as to why they should’ve taken the night train, but whatever, he can’t really be bothered to wake Shou up to make a point.

Heaving a greatly put-upon sigh, he stands, steadying himself on the table. He grabs Shou’s backpack from the spare seat and chucks it unceremoniously across to where he was just sitting, and plops down beside Shou. Now that the sun isn’t making a concerted effort at blinding him, he can see the light glinting off of Shou’s hair, lighting it up like some sort of precious metal. There are a lot of dust motes floating around his head.

Shou only wakes up once in the next six or so hours, and then only briefly. By the three and a half hour mark, Ritsu has done everything he can think of to keep himself occupied, including looking for shapes in the clouds, doing terrible little stick figure doodles in his notebook, doing what little he can without wifi on his laptop (about fifty seven games of solitare, not that he’s keeping track,) and a short-lived and incredibly uncomfortable nap. He feels like he should be able to sleep, given the easy, lazy warmth of the train, given how easily Shou has been able to slip into it, the soft lines of his shoulders in his white shirt rising and falling as he breathes, blending seamlessly with the almost ethereal summer light.

He’d managed to entertain himself with his phone, for a little while, but once it had hit less than half battery he’d decided to turn it off and definitely not think about it at all, in case he needed to use it for something actually important.

So, he half jumps out of his skin when it starts vibrating like mad in his back pocket. He fumbles with it until he can see that Matsuo is calling him.

“Hey! Kageyama! My bro! Rumor around here is that you’re ditching us, bro!” Ritsu forces himself to bite back ‘I’m not your bro, bro,’ instead deciding on a polite, “Hello, Matsuo. Yes, I’m moving out.” “Ha, dude, nice! Did you score with some chick? Are you actually moving in with your girl? You always seemed like a player, bro!” Ritsu squints. How in the fuck would I strike anyone as a player? A movement to his left draws his attention, and he looks over to see Shou stirring, propping himself up on one elbow to blink blearily at Ritsu. There are red lines in the pattern of the hoodie fabric all over his cheek, and Ritsu has to hold back a laugh at the knockoff Two-Face vibes. He waves dismissively at Shou’s questioning look, a sort of ‘tell you in a minute’ kind of gesture that he hopes Shou understands. “Yeah, about that,” he starts, unsure how to breach the topic. “I’m actually moving in with a friend of mine, but he just got back from overseas, so neither of us actually have a place yet. Is it cool if he sleeps on the couch for the next couple of days, until we’re good?”

“Ha, I can do you one better, bro! Daichi’s still chillin’ with his girlfriend until the end of break, so your dude can just crash in his bed instead!” A pause, and then, “...Yo, Kageyama, is this buddy of yours the one that drank five Red Bulls when you were skyping him, like, to prove that he could?” Ritsu sighs. Naturally, Matsuo has his priorities straight. “Yes. Yes it is.” “Tell him I said hi, yo. He’s hardcore.” A hardcore dumbass, Ritsu thinks, but what manages to come out of his mouth is, “Will do. Thanks, Matsuo.” “Anytime, bro!” As soon as he hangs up he turns to Shou, who’s back at it with the questioning eyes in full force. He’s not quite upright anymore, having slipped downwards so that his head is half-pillowed between the crook of his elbow and the hoodie. Ritsu shakes his head, summarizing. “Just my roommate. He wanted to know if I was actually leaving. Also, Daichi’s gone, so you can take his bed until we get a place.” Shou nods, which is an action really more to the effect of rubbing his face against the jacket, but Ritsu gets the general idea.

“Daichi’s the one you sleep with, right?” He murmurs. “Again, phrasing, but yeah, he’s in my room. I emailed a few of the landlords for the places we were looking at, so hopefully we can decide within a couple days what we’re–” He interrupts himself, in favour of asking the real questions. “Are you… alright? Shou has buried his face entirely in the hoodie. Ritsu isn’t sure exactly how he can be breathing. After a few moments of complete silence, Shou turns his head back to face him. “Not to be creepy, but this jacket smells like your house. It’s. It’s good.”

Ritsu blinks, raises one eyebrow. He feels like he maybe should find that creepy, but it’s not the weirdest thing Shou has ever said to him, and in this state, delirious and actually nuzzling his jacket, it’s almost… is cute the right word for it? Flattering, maybe. Endearing. Something like that, some word he can’t name for the fond exasperation colouring his smile and his voice as he says, “Oh? And what does my house smell like?” “Hmmmmmmmmmn.” Shou makes a long noise of consideration, burrowing his nose into the fabric again. “Smells like you.”

He’s asleep again before Ritsu can even try to think of a response to that one.

He’d had to physically drag Shou away from Matsuo, who had a six pack of some godawful energy drink and some very, very bad ideas which were right up Shou’s avenue.

It feels oddly intimate, having Shou sitting across from him in a pair of faded Sonic boxer shorts on his tiny, creaky bed in his tiny, creaky dorm room. He’s cross-legged, coveting a pile of snacks he’d pillaged from the communal pantry in his lap, but he doesn’t complain when Ritsu snatches a chip from his hand every now and again. Ritsu’s been trying to keep them on-topic, but it’s difficult, when Shou’s been wound up again, and he’s bouncing off the walls. He chews thoughtfully for a moment, then asks, “Do you guys have any soda?” Ritsu sighs. “The last thing you need is more sugar.”

At that, Shou perks up, and then he’s gone, bouncing off of the bed and running to the other side of the room with a force that Ritsu thinks must’ve woken up everyone in the next three floors below them. Somehow, his pile of snacks is still on the bed, looking relatively undisturbed. He rummages around in the pockets of his backpack, dumped on top of his suitcase at the foot of Daichi’s bed, until he eventually comes up with– “Shou, no.”

Shou jumps back onto the bed, and this time, a granola bar goes flying. Shou doesn’t seem to notice, because all of his attention is on the bag of melted chocolate and broken dreams that used to be his mother’s cookies. “No, nonononono no,” Ritsu says as Shou starts to open the bag, and leans back so that he can dig his heels into Shou’s back and forcefully push him to the floor. Shou goes willingly, rolling onto his back with the cookies curled close to his chest, and giggling like a maniac. It makes him laugh in return, despite himself. “No. You eat that on Daichi’s bed, you little shit, or you get nothing.”

Shou already somehow covered in melted chocolate, scurries over to Daichi’s bed and hops on with an evil sort of grin that almost makes Ritsu feel sorry for Daichi, the poor ass. Ritsu dumps the rest of the snacks onto the floor and stretches out on his newly free bed. “As I was saying,” he begins, as if it hadn’t been twenty minutes since he’d last been derailed, “We’re looking at three apartments tomorrow, so we’ll need to leave here kind of early. I know a place we can get lunch. Most of the ones we’re looking at are pretty much fully furnished, so if we do decide on a place tomorrow, we might be able to talk the landlord into letting us sleep there tomorrow night. Especially if we can wave some money around, or whatever. If we can’t…” he sighs. “I can’t say I want to spend much more time here, but it won’t be the end of the world.” He turns his head to look at Shou. “Sound alright?” The look on Shou’s face is something Ritsu doesn’t get to see much out of him: awe. He’s staring, wide eyed and blank for a few beats before he seems to shake himself. “Yeah,” he says, firmly, and then, “Yeah, that’s…” this time, much less so. The silence hangs in the air, pensive and waiting to be filled, so Ritsu waits. Eventually, Shou rolls onto his back, staring resolutely at the ceiling. He starts. “You’re so… on top of this.” Ritsu bites back his immediate retort of ‘well, one of us has to be.’ It’s a joke, but from the vulnerable, almost reticent tone of Shou’s voice, he has the feeling it might hit a little too close to home. At a lack of response, Shou keeps going. “I guess I thought… I, I don’t know what I thought! I didn’t think I’d get this far, I didn’t think you’d agree to this in the first place! It was just some… some dumb idea I had that seemed fun in my head and you’re…” he waves his hands around in some gesture that could mean anything, that sends panic deep into Ritsu’s mind, because he’s sure that Shou is about to finish that sentence with “You’re actually taking this seriously.” What he says instead, is “...You’re actually making this work!” And then he puts voice to what Ritsu’s been thinking for almost a week now, spoken softly, like if one of them finally says it aloud, then, then is when it becomes real. “We’re really doing this.”

Ritsu breathes, “Yeah, we are.” It’s a stupid worry, really, but he can’t help but pray that this isn’t the moment Shou decides he regrets it.

“Thank you,” he says, and it’s almost painfully earnest. “I seriously don’t know how any of this stuff works, and I was just sort of going to, I don’t know, wing it? When I thought I was doing this on my own. But you’re just sort of… doing it. We’re actually looking at apartments tomorrow. And I’m…” And this time, Ritsu can’t resist the jab. “Lying on my roommate’s bed covered in chocolate?” Luckily, neither can Shou. “At least I’ll always bring the sex appeal to our duo,” he says, glancing quickly over at him with a barely veiled grin. “Hm. Debatable.” “Hey!” Ritsu makes himself turn towards Shou, after a while, propping himself up on his elbow. “It’s fine, you know. That you’re not really doing the organizing stuff.” Before he can tell himself not to, he more or less blurts, “I wouldn’t want to do it half as much if it were anyone other than you.” Shou hasn’t moved, hasn’t looked away from the ceiling above him, and Ritsu doesn’t think Shou knows he’s watching him, because the smile that spreads across his face, slowly, and then like a flashbang, like a grenade, God, it could’ve outshone the sun. Shou laughs, a small, shaky thing. “Well, someone has to provide the comic relief.”

#fic: aubade #jack writes #mp100 #mp100 fic #ritshou #iTS FUC K I N G DONE #i would seriously recommend reading on ao3 tho #my formatting gets fucked by tumblr #and my author's notes don't get transferred bc i cant be bothered

8 notes · View notes