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steppedoffaflight · 3 years

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Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 16

Catch up on Chapter 15 here

“So,” Danica is the first one to speak, “When are you supposed to see him again?”

Your shoulders slump at this. “He’s in town this weekend, but I don’t think we’re gonna see each other.”

Mary snaps to attention, her eyes locking with yours. “Why not?”

Everyone seems to be on the edge of their seat, waiting for more details with bated breath.

You shrug, but Mary only narrows her eyes. “I think I’m gonna end things,” You keep your voice light, stirring the ice in your now-empty glass.

Summer’s coming to an end.

Word count: ~8.2k

Chapter Sixteen October 2019

Those few rushed nights with Van are all you get in September.

The band’s schedule is less jam-packed this month, and Van promises over text that he’ll be around soon. He responds to you more often, and is able to fit in some phone calls more often when he’s on smoke breaks, even if sometimes he accidentally calls you at three A.M. and has to go to voicemail.

You know you should be excited to see him again, but you can’t stop remembering how awful you feel each time he leaves. With September under your belt you’re more adapted to his absence, feeling a little more steady on your feet. Wouldn’t seeing him again just fuck it all up?

Maybe you could still be friends with Van, as long as you kept a little distance between you two. Maybe if you gave yourself some space this month you could accept that Van was just a best friend with a spotty visitation schedule, and not cling to him so tightly. You make a pact with yourself to take October off of seeing Van, with the exception of phone calls and texts. That way you could keep him at arm’s length while you get your head together.

Even making that promise to yourself gives you a rush of relief. Your September funk had been much more serious than you’d realized, and now that you were starting to shake it off you knew you couldn’t jeopardize it. You’d started having regular weekend brunch with Mary at the diner again, and had gone out with the girls at work for drinks after one of them secured a huge client for the company. Everything was starting to fall back into place in your world, returning to the way it had been before your birthday weekend in San Diego had tipped everything over.

On a Monday morning midway through the month, you’re dashing to your desk after running hopelessly late. You’d forgotten to plug your phone in last night, so it’d died in the middle of the night, and your body’s natural clock had woken you up on way too short notice. Thankfully nobody seems to notice as you slide into your cubicle, eagerly tapping the enter key on your keyboard to wake your computer up.

Your phone is still dead in your bag, and you dig it out before rustling through a drawer for your work charger. As your phone starts to boot up you focus on your computer, using your credentials to log in. You take a moment to collect yourself as everything loads, smoothing your hair down and taking a sip of your coffee you’d poured into a travel mug before rushing out the door.

You’ve caught your breath by the time you get your browser open and your email loaded. The subject line of the third email in your inbox immediately catches your eye: Y/N OPEN THIS NOW IT’S IMPORTANT

It’s from Danica, one of the girls in your coworker friend group.

The new martini bar on Melrose finally opened and we want to get drinks Friday after work!! Let me know if you’re in!

Getting drinks on Friday sounded fun, but you had no idea what she was talking about. Yeah I’m in, you send back, but what martini bar on Melrose?

You take a quick trip to the bathroom, and when you come back there’s a response at the top of your inbox. She’s linked the website for the bar, and it does look pretty cool. The decor is crisp and modern, and from their ‘about’ section it looks like they’re bordering the fine line of being a club without trying to attract the student crowd.

Oh, cool! Do you care if I invite my friend Mary? From the photos it looks like the sort of place Mary would be right at home charming everyone at, so you can’t resist asking.

Once Danica has given her approval to invite Mary, you finally unlock your phone, ready to send a text to her about Friday night. That’s when you see Van’s message.

Guess who’s gonna be flying in on Friday?

Your blood instantly runs cold. Oh shit.

It only takes that simple text to throw you off kilter. How can some words on a screen do that?

You swipe Van’s message away, hoping to forget about it. You couldn’t, of course, but you’d made a promise to yourself not to see him and now he was trying to mess that up! You’d have to say no. You knew you’d have to say no. Technically, you had plans. And, more importantly, you were not going to spend the weekend crying your eyes out over some stupid guy! It was a no. For sure. The only thing is that you’d have to figure out how to say it.

You proceed with texting Mary about the martini bar, and then decide to focus on work for the day. You were already behind from running late and time wasted emailing Danica, so you needed to get going. It would be good for Van not to have an immediate response. You needed some time to word things in a way that wouldn’t hurt his feelings. After all, it’s not him- it’s you.

But after an hour of some market research you pick your phone up again. Omg I just made plans for Friday, You respond with an emoji of a facepalm. You get back to work, ridiculously proud of how you’d brushed him off. Take that, Van McCann. You would not be dropping everything to see him.

Van doesn’t respond until the next afternoon. That’s alright! Saturday?

You bury your head in your hands where you’re sitting at your favorite cafe booth on your lunch. Lord, he was making this so fucking hard.

It isn’t until you’re home, fresh glass of wine in hand, that you reply. Idk. So swamped with work lately.

To keep your guilt at bay, you actually do swamp yourself with work. Van has dropped the subject of meeting up for the moment being, but you know he’ll bring it back up with a vengeance. You don’t know if there’s been one time he’s been in L.A. this entire summer that you two haven’t hung out, and knowing he’s not the type to let subjects drop peacefully leaves a pit of dread in your stomach.

You smother said dread with the market research you’re currently doing for some sort of waterless shampoo for dogs. It was a successful enough product, given that there were already a few brands on pet store shelves. The only issue is that you were at a loss when it came to what was supposed to make this particular brand special. The client couldn’t answer that question herself, either, so this was essentially a THC-water-rerun where you use up the research budget, don’t get anywhere, and the client eventually gives up.

As you remember the THC water, your fingers reach across your desk for a pen, so you can jot down a reminder to send them a thank you note for the products they’d sent you. Van had informed you during one of your phone calls last month that he’d brought the bottles on tour, where one night the boys chugged the entire pack. According to him, they’d all actually gotten high. Plus, you’d like an update on how they were doing with their new marketing team. You’d managed to call in a favor from a different firm with more THC experience, who was genuinely interested in taking them on. Hopefully now their product was getting the attention it needed.

On Friday morning, you wake up sick to your stomach. You’d barely slept, your mind tossing Van’s impending visit back and forth the entire night. He hasn’t texted you about it since you’d brushed him off on Tuesday, and now you were filled with the sinking feeling that he was upset with you. Which, first of all, was a ridiculous thought. You hadn’t done anything wrong by not clearing your schedule for him! Certainly he understood that you had your own life and your own job, and not everything revolved around him. As much as you wanted it to.

And that was the real problem, wasn’t it? The more that Van was sweet and understanding, the harder it was to force yourself to reject him. You literally wanted nothing more than to come home from having drinks tonight and find him curled up in your bed. You were putting yourself through this torture, and it wasn’t even necessary!

But it is necessary, you remind yourself. Look at you! Losing sleep, stumbling around while your stomach does somersaults just because you were so hopelessly in love with Van your body couldn’t bear the concept of having to opt out of seeing him for one weekend. How were you ever supposed to create some distance between you two?

You’re a zombie at work, jumping at your phone each time it buzzed. It was never Van, only the group chat of everyone going out tonight. You let them discuss their outfits and designated driver situation amongst themselves, trying to force yourself to focus on the paperwork you needed to get done to help a client apply for a patent today.

You startle when your phone vibrates on the bathroom counter, almost falling into the damp sink. You lurch for it with the hand not currently running the flat iron through your hair, sighing in irritation. The group chat has continued to go off incessantly all day, keeping a steady stream of anxiety and adrenaline running through you. What could everyone possibly need to fucking talk about when you guys were about to be face-to-face in less than an hour?

It’s a text from Van. Just got in.

Although it solidifies the nerves in your stomach, there’s some sort of relief that what you’ve been anticipating has finally happened. Easy flight? You can’t resist responding.

Eh, He says, lots of turbulence.

With no mention of meeting up, your shoulders release the tension they’ve been carrying all day. Your phone buzzes again, but it’s the girls, and you hurry to order your Uber while you finish up your hair and put the final touches on your makeup.

Martinis on Melrose is hard to see from the main road, and it takes your driver a minute to find his way into the parking lot. The name is glowing in a dark blue neon script across the smooth cement of the exterior, casting a glow on all of the sleek cars crammed into the lot. You’re glad you don’t have to worry about finding a spot as you shimmy out of the backseat, hoisting your bag over your shoulder and trying to find your footing on your heels.

Two of the girls are already here and have reserved a table for tonight, but Theo is still en route dropping Mary off. You pause just outside of the front door, eager to stall, and dig around in your purse for your pack of cigarettes.

It’s the quiet before the storm, that moment before you walk into a gathering where you like to mentally brace yourself for the night to come. No offense to the girls, as you enjoy their company a ton, but you’ll always be an introvert at heart. Having a quick cigarette is the perfect way to calm yourself down, get yourself ready to be social for an extended period of time. Your first puff sends relief rushing through your brain, a craving satisfied.

As you watch your exhaled smoke glow blue from the fluorescent lighting, you feel a pang of disappointment in yourself. You can’t believe Van’s managed to get you hooked on nicotine. Oh, Van. The disappointment in your belly blooms larger, deeper. Disappointment that you won’t be ending your day wrapped in his arms, comforted by his company, his charisma that had weaseled around your introverted tendencies until you felt right at home with him in your space. Disappointed that you don’t have him by your side tonight, your hand in his, anchoring you to the moment. Disappointed that after the fiasco over this weekend, you had the feeling that you’d never be able to remain just friends with him.

“Since when do you smoke alone?” Mary’s voice has you crawling out of your skin, dropping your cigarette from the scare.

“Shit,” You hiss, further disappointed that you have to stomp your cigarette out when it was only halfway done. The cement is so fresh and clean you decide to lean over and pick the butt up, depositing it in the trash directly to your right by the door. “Just getting my head in the game,” You respond to Mary.

Ever the extrovert, she clearly doesn’t understand, blinking at you as she tosses her hair over her shoulder. “I fucking love that outfit,” She changes the topic.

You glance down at yourself. It’s actually the same one you’d worn to Lou’s birthday party, complete with the uncomfortable heels and the denim jacket to help dress it down. Looking down at your toes you remember trading shoes with Sam, arguing with Van in hushed tones on the deck stairs. You hadn’t known how deep your feelings were for him then, but you remember how his jealousy both pissed you off and pleased you at the same time, an indication that he might want your arrangement to go deeper than friends. That memory falls into the disappointment abyss when you realize in hindsight how that never happened.

“Thanks, but look at you!” You beam at her, gesturing to her own dress. It’s a silk slip that looks like you might see a Kardashian posing in it on instagram. It makes her legs look a mile long, and she’s gone braless, always on trend. She’s got her right hand wrapped around a sleek clutch bag, and as you two head into the bar she holds it up.

“Don’t let me get drunk and forget this in the bathroom or at the table,” She warns in a low tone.

“I’ll try,” You mutter, as the hustle and bustle of the club surrounds you two. “But I’m in need of a few martinis myself.”

“Long week?” Mary eyes you after she scans the room. You’re doing the same, looking for the table Danica had texted you they were at.

You spot the table, starting to head to it, Mary following along. “Oh yeah,” You nod enthusiastically, realizing how emotionally drained you’ve been since Van’s text on Monday.

You introduce everyone to Mary before sliding into the curved booth, exchanging greetings. One of the girls pass you a menu that you look over with curiosity. You need something strong enough to forget these last two months.

Your focus on the menu fades when your phone buzzes against the glossy tabletop. Just as you reach to check what notification has appeared the server comes around to get you and Mary’s drink order. While she opts for a cosmopolitan your eyes quickly flit over the page, your brain scrambling to read the different ingredients in your hurry.

“I’ll have an endless summer,” You recite to the waitress, smiling at her as she hurries away to relay the order. She leaves the menu so that the girls that haven’t arrived yet can look over it.

As soon as she’s gone you grab for your phone again, unlocking it to see a text from Van: Wanna do lunch at that diner tomorrow? It’ll help with that hangover

You’d told him about your plans to go out for drinks, and his thoughtfulness makes your heart ache. Why does he have to be so fucking nice all of the time?

“Is that Van?” Mary interrupts the wave of sadness welling up in your chest. Everyone has stopped talking, Mary commanding the attention of everyone per usual.

“Um, yeah,” You respond politely, despite the urge to reach over and strangle her. Everyone’s eyes are on you, and your cheeks burn at the way Mary’s just exposed your Van situation to everyone.

“Who?” Danica asks, tilting her head as she takes a sip of her drink. “I thought you were single!”

Realizing your coworkers had no idea about him, Mary’s face lights up in joy. You hate her for it, internally groaning. There’s no way she’s going to let you get away without telling everyone what was going on.

“Y/N hasn’t told you about Van?” Mary asks, leaning in excitedly. Danica and your other coworker that had arrived early, Nicole, are suddenly at attention, waiting for you to explain.

“Hey, hey!” Olivia- forever the loudest coworker in the office- calls from behind your shoulder. She’s sauntering effortlessly on stilettos, Mia trailing behind.

Olivia makes a big scene of plopping down in the booth, Mia shuffling in next to you. Whereas you’re the quiet counterpart to Mary, Mia’s the same to Olivia. You’d always liked Mia, the way she never seemed stressed or worked up over office demands or drama; she tended to let them roll off of her with a quiet shrug. You tended to stay away from Olivia, however. While Mary radiated an outgoing, enjoyable charisma, Olivia radiated an air of lead-cheerleader bitchiness.

The commotion of Olivia and Mia’s arrival has successfully diverted the conversation to how hard the restaurant had been for Olivia to find, and everyone forgets about the Van topic. You sigh in relief when the waitress comes back around to collect the new drink orders, gingerly setting a glass full of sunset-colored alcohol in front of you. It starts deep red at the bottom with the cranberry juice, and somehow fades to a soft orange by the middle of the glass, a pale pink at the top. You suck at your straw eagerly, ready to have some alcohol in your system. It’s overly sweet and burns as it goes down, but Danica and Nicole are already one drink ahead of you, so you’re trying to catch up.

“He’s an annoying motherfucker,” Olivia is complaining about her husband, tossing her phone back into her bag with a scoff. Mia murmurs agreement next to you, and Danica is asking her some question about wedding venues. Danica’s not engaged just yet, but it’s clear she’s desperate for a proposal from her boyfriend.

Oh, to be surrounded by friends in couples. Mary has chimed in about some pet peeve she has about Theo, and you let their conversation fade to the background of your mind as you pick your phone up again.

This weekend doesn’t really work for me at all, you text Van. It physically pains you to press send, but you know it’s what you’ve got to do. He’s not getting the hint!

“Oh! Y/N!” Danica suddenly exclaims, and when you look up from your screen she is gesturing excitedly, like the words are on the tip of her tongue.

“You were gonna tell us about that Victor guy!” She finally spits it out, and the spotlight is on you again.

“Van,” You correct absentmindedly, before realizing you’d missed the point. You clear your throat, tucking your phone in the pocket of your jacket, deciding not to check it again. You couldn’t handle Van possibly becoming angry or hurt. “Um, there’s not much to say!” You laugh nervously, glancing at Mary as a call for help. “He’s my best friend.”

“Besides, you, of course,” You hurry to assure Mary. She rolls her eyes in amusement, unbothered.

“He’s her best friend with benefits,” Mary stirs the pot. Everyone’s interest in you had started to fade with your lackluster explanation, but at the mention of the benefits they all perk up again.

“And get this,” Mary gestures excitedly, and you’re relieved she’s taking over the storytelling. “He’s the lead singer of this band that’s fucking huge in the U.K.”

“No way,” Danica’s eyes widen.

“Yeah,” Mary nods. “We met him after they played a show at the House of Blues in San Diego.”

“When?” Nicole pipes up, scooting in closer.

“In January, when I was there for my birthday,” You tell her.

“You’ve been with him since January?” Danica asks, clearly shocked. “You haven’t said a word!”

You open your mouth to respond, but are interrupted by the waitress passing out another round of drinks. You take the last few sips of your first martini, then stick your straws into the next glass.

“Girl, explain,” Nicole demands, earning a laugh from everyone at the table.

“Hold on,” You laugh, feeling a bit more comfortable with their interest. This whole thing has been weighing on you, after all, and now you’ve got the chance to get some fresh opinions on what you should do. Without further ado you hold the straw of your drink between your thumb and forefinger, swallowing it down in a matter of a minute.

“I need to catch up!” Olivia shouts as you pull away, and starts to gulp down her own drink. She’s finished quicker than you, ever the show-off, and waves the waitress over again to request another round for you and her.

The waitress is back pronto, another endless summer dripping condensation on the table in front of you, a bloody mary perched in front of Olivia.

You take a sip to wet your throat before you sit back.

You’ve never told the story of you two out loud like this before. Mary’s been present every step of the way, and you’d managed to stay away from your family’s prying by telling them only the basics of your friendship. This is the first time you have to listen to yourself explain all of the time you’ve spent together, and it shocks you as you hear yourself. Like when you explain the story of Van catching strep throat, and Mia is confused as to why he decided to spend over a week crashing at your place. You recite Van’s excuse at the time about the lack of food at his house, but nobody at the booth seems convinced.

You trail off when you’re finished, deciding not to share anymore details with anyone. Mary had snorted more than once during your chronicles due to your decision to keep everything very surface and PG- although you’re sure none of these girls cared about Catfish, Van’s trust is sacred to you. You’re fiercely protective over the private moments you two have had together; even Mary doesn’t know about the way you’d tied him up during his birthday sex.

There’s a silence that falls over everyone when you’re finished, punctuating the story of your summer with a long, burning sip of your drink. You’re expecting Olivia to launch into her own story- no doubt somehow more interesting than yours- but you’re surprised to see her stirring her bloody mary, looking lost in thought. Was this Van thing really that crazy?

“So,” Danica is the first one to speak, “When are you supposed to see him again?”

Your shoulders slump at this. “He’s in town this weekend, but I don’t think we’re gonna see each other.”

Mary snaps to attention, her eyes locking with yours. “Why not?”

Everyone seems to be on the edge of their seat, waiting for more details with bated breath.

You shrug, but Mary only narrows her eyes. “I think I’m gonna end things,” You keep your voice light, stirring the ice in your now-empty glass.

“What? Why?” Nicole shrieks. “He sounds great!”

“He is great,” You affirm. You’d sworn to yourself a long time ago that no matter how this thing plays out, you’d always maintain that Van had been the best man you’d ever been with. “But he’s just really busy now. He was gone for almost all of September.”

“So you’re gonna give him up?” Nicole scoffs in disbelief. “You’re insane, Y/N.”

“I mean, there’s nothing to give up!” You defend yourself weakly, your voice going higher in pitch. “We’re not together!”

Mary opens her mouth to speak, no doubt to derail you from your plan. You understand why she’s eager to dissuade you from something so drastic, but she also had no idea about the agony you’ve been in, how cutting ties with Van is the only way you know how to save your sanity.

“Do you have a picture?” Olivia asks, successfully interrupting Mary. Despite your dislike for Olivia, you’re glad for her intervention.

“Um, lemme see,” You murmur, grabbing your phone back out of your pocket. But you forgot you’d been keeping your phone in there on purpose, and as you go to scroll through your photo gallery you’re accosted with Van’s reply to your previous message:

Everything alright?

You swipe it away, reaching your drink before realizing it’s empty. “Ugh, I need another one of these.” How many drinks have you had now? Three? You wish you remembered.

You deliberate over what photo to show them; you hardly take any when you two are together, and most of the ones you’ve taken seem too intimate to share with others. You laugh when you scroll past a photo of Van you’d taken in August, standing by the front door with his ribboned ficus in his arms. He’s got an exaggerated grin, no attempt to look poised for the camera. There’s tons of photos with his blurry hands or feet in them, attempts to obscure snapchats you were trying to take for Mary, and you hurry past the few nudes he’d sent you when you two had decided to exchange a few over text. You settle on one you feel comfortable sharing; it’s a photo of him at some bar, his eyes bloodshot from the alcohol. He’s flushed and beaming, leaning against Bob, who was the one taking the picture of the two of them. He’d forwarded it to you the next morning, complaining about his hangover. You present this photo to the others.

Immediately Olivia takes your phone from your hands, sending a shot of anxiety through you. You’ll never understand why some people insist on taking the phone out of your hands rather than just looking at the image on the screen.

“He’s good looking!” She exclaims, almost like she didn’t expect it. Danica and Nicole nod their agreement. When Olivia hands the phone back you flash the photo at Mia, who seems more interested in Bob’s half of the picture.

“Isn’t he?” Mary agrees, playfully elbowing you. “If you’re finished with him then send him my way,” She jokes, but you can hear her ill-concealed frustration with you underneath. You know she’s dying to know what the fuck you’re doing, messing up the best not-relationship you’ve ever had. Maybe she’ll get lunch with you tomorrow, so you can properly explain. Of course you hadn’t shared your true feelings for Van with everyone, but it was probably time for Mary to know.

“He sounds like a keeper,” Olivia agrees, and you’re surprised to hear she thinks so. You’re even more surprised at everyone’s enthusiastic nods.

“You’d be an idiot to let him go,” Danica tells you seriously, and Nicole murmurs her assent. “Like, seriously. Have you lost interest in him?”

Lost interest in him? You wish it could be true, but that wasn’t even a possibility you could fathom at the moment.

“Uh, no,” You answer her, trying to seem nonchalant. “It’s just the logistics.”

“Well, make it work,” Nicole urges you.

There’s some murmurs about ‘the one that got away’ from the other girls, and the conversation about Van finally dies out. You’re relieved when Mia brings up a project she’s working on in the office, looking for some advice from everyone about how to respond to a client who tends to have an aggressive tone in his emails. From there things fade into hilarious client stories and email blunders, and you try to seem as engaged as possible, relieved to have the focus off of you.

You lose track of your drinks, absentmindedly sipping them while everyone’s voices flow and mingle around you. You’ve definitely hit your introvert limit, ready to head home and curl up in bed. Nobody seems to notice how quiet you’ve grown, or how you perk up in relief when Mia finally suggests you guys call it a night. Everyone takes her cue, the table lighting up with phone screens as everyone reaches out to their ride.

“Theo can take you home,” Mary offers when you pull up the Uber app.

“Oh, it’s fine,” You politely decline. There’s a lot of Ubers doing rounds on a busy street like Melrose during this time, and you know a car will be here soon. More than anything you were craving the quiet, some time away from this loud club music and conversation.

“If you’re sure…” Mary trails off. You remember your idea about lunch suddenly, ready to blurt it out to her, but the sober fraction of your brain shushes you. It would be incredibly rude to make lunch plans with someone right in front of everyone else.

Lunch tomorrow? You text her instead, and watch the notification ping on her phone screen.

YES. she sends back. YOU HAVE EXPLAINING TO DO.

That would cause sober-you to dread these plans, but thankfully drunk-you is only preoccupied with going home.

You’re drunker than you’d thought by the end of the night. You’d managed to down all of your drinks without the need to use the restroom (miraculously), but when you had stood up to let Mary shuffle out of the booth it suddenly felt like your bladder was nothing but a bouncing water balloon, and all of the alcohol had rushed to your head. You had struggled to keep yourself walking in a straight line to the bathroom, not to mention staying balanced on your heels while you washed your hands. You get the notification your ride is here as soon as you’re pushing through the heavy swinging door, so you grab your bag back at the booth and exchange goodbyes and promises to do this again with Nicole, who is the last one waiting for a ride, and head out front.

There’s no silence quite as satisfying as the one that follows a night out after you’ve hopped into the car and closed the door. Besides the polite hello the driver offers he doesn’t seem interested in conversation, so you stare out the window at the night sky and try to make sense of the mess in your head.

Only as the car is pulling out onto Melrose do you remember you’d left a text from Van on read. You grab your phone off of the seat next to you, clicking your texts with Van open.

Everything alright? You read to yourself over and over. How the fuck were you supposed to answer that? Was he really that clueless? Were you that amazing at hiding how much this had been hurting you, or had he just not bothered to pay attention?

I’m fine, you decide to reply. Was it the truth? Not exactly. But you knew you would be, eventually. Ending things would hurt like hell at first, but you’d recover. You had from every other heartbreak you’ve experienced in your life, after all.

You’re surprised when your phone vibrates in your palm, an instant reply from Van: Don’t seem fine.

Shit. Maybe he’s been paying a bit more attention than you thought. You double down on your lie: It’s fine Van.

The three dots pop up before you can even lock your phone: ??

You click your screen off, tossing your phone beside you on the bench. It bounces with a soft thud, and you rest your head in your hands, trying to take a deep breath.

Everyone’s advice starts to echo in your mind: He sounds like a keeper! You’d be an idiot to let him go! Make it work! Offered up so happily as if those were actually options, as if there was any fucking possibility Van felt the same way about you.

It completely overwhelms you then, how in over your head you are. There had been moments where you’d felt a speck of hope, signs that maybe he wanted more than this casual thing, but now it’s been six months of spending time together, and exactly zero attempts by him to broach the subject. It all hits you then, all the emotions you’ve been keeping controlled while you tried to enjoy your night out, and before you know it you’re in tears.

It’s only a few tears at first, but letting go feels so good you give in to it, the car silent except for your loud sniffles and the occasional shaky breath. The Uber driver, to his credit, doesn’t react as you silently bawl your eyes out in the backseat.

Your phone goes off again from where it’s facedown, light seeping out of the sides. You leave it there, for once not pathetically controlled by Van’s moment-to-moment whim. A little laugh bubbles out of you at that thought, and you think absentmindedly that you must sound absolutely crazy, but you’re too drunk to care, the alcohol carrying that thought away as you continue your catharsis.

Time slips by in jumps and starts, your tears slowing eventually, and by the time the car turns onto your block you’re excited to get inside, make yourself a hot mug of tea, and continue your cry in private. Your house is the only one on your side of the street with the light on, and so you watch it slide into view as the car makes its way down the road.

“It’s that one,” You snuffle, “With the light on.”

As the car approaches, your blood goes cold.

Your first instinct is to assume it’s some sort of alcohol-induced hallucination. You wipe the tears from your eyes furiously, but when you look again there’s no mistaking it. The porch light is cascading down your front lawn, and Van’s silhouette is perched on your front steps, smoking a cigarette.

“Here you go, ma’am,” The driver stops the car and unlocks the door for you. As soon as the car pulls up Van tosses his cigarette onto the front path and stomps it out, standing up. You watch him through the car window in disbelief before you grab your things, give a numb thank you, and get out of the car.

There’s a stretch of silence as the Uber pulls away where you stand right outside of the front gate, unable to do anything except gape at Van.

A car suddenly whizzes down your road, and you realize how close you are to being in the street. “What the fuck are you doing here?” You exclaim, the clatter of the gate clicking closed behind you echoing with your voice off of the silent houses around you.

“I came here to get some answers!” Van says, exasperated. “You won’t tell me nothin’!”

“There’s nothing to say!” You gesture with your arms as you reach the steps, face to face with him. “There’s no answers to get!”

“You’ve been cryin’!” Van gestures towards you, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” You wipe at your undereye self consciously and look down at your finger. There’s a smear of mascara. You sigh before moving past Van up the stairs, headed for the front door. He follows.

“Did I do something?” He asks, coming into your peripheral vision. “If I did, just tell me! Let me make this right.”

You look through your purse for your keys, ignoring him.

“Christ, I’m sorry. I didn’t do anything on purpose!”

You continue your search for your keys, keeping your head down.

“Fuck,” You say quietly to yourself as you sweep your bag for the third time and fail. You click your phone on, switching on the flashlight and lighting up your bag.

Van groans in frustration, wiping a hand through his hair. “Y/N!”

“What?” You snap at him, looking up. You’ve finally found your key and you jam it into the door, clicking it unlocked.

“Why are you ignorin’ me?” He pleads.

“Van,” You start, trying to keep your voice steady. You look up at him then, and you feel like your breath’s been punched out of you. The light is illuminating him from behind, a halo of golden light that catches each strand of frizz and accentuates the sharp line of his chin. His hair’s grown out since the spring, the light snagging the curls that are upturned at the nape of his neck. You swallow thickly. His eyes are wide in confusion.

“I think we need to end things,” You say quietly, struggling to see through a fresh batch of tears.

His jaw hangs slightly ajar. “What?” He asks in disbelief.

Your eyes are welling up again, and you wipe at them, a mess of mascara on your hands. “We’re done,” You tell him, voice wobbling, as you swing the door open and head inside.

He doesn’t give you a chance to shut the door in his face, heading in right behind you. “You’re fucking joking! What have I done?”

You head straight for the bathroom, examining yourself in the mirror. You cringe inwardly at yourself and grab for your makeup wipes, trying to make yourself look a little less pathetic.

Van is standing in the front room. “I’m not leaving until we talk about this,” He says loudly so you can hear him from behind the bathroom door.

You don’t respond, wiping away your eyeliner vigorously.

“I said I’m sorry!”

You sigh to yourself.

“Look, I-”

“Listen, Van!” You cut him off from the other room. You swing the door open, marching out. “It’s like you said in the hotel that one time, remember? We’re supposed to be simple, easy. And that was working great. You stop by at your convenience, and I throw everything else out of the fucking window to spend time with you. And then you just fucking… disappear! For two months! And it- I-” You struggle to find any words, your voice fading out as you feel yourself start to cry again. And I love you. I miss you.

Van throws his arms up. “I didn’t mean it like that at all, c’mon! It’s not at my convenience! I was working! I wasn’t trying to ignore ya! I try my hardest to come around!”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair again. When he speaks again, he’s quieter. “It wasn’t like that, honest.”

“I just can’t do this anymore,” You try desperately to explain. “This whole ‘simple’ thing is killing me. The long trips out to see you, and I’m lucky if I get to see you for two whole days…” Your words are interrupted by an embarrassingly pathetic sob, Van’s eyes widening at your outpouring of emotion.

“Please don’t tell me you think this whole thing was about having you around just for a fuck,” Van pleads. “You’re my best mate! I can’t help that I travel a lot!”

You bury your face in your hands.

Van sighs, moving towards you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” He says earnestly. “C’mon. I’m sorry. Get out of that dress and we can turn a film on, yeah? Or we can go grab some food. Whatever you wanna do.”

You groan into your palms, the sound echoing in your ears. He just wasn’t getting it.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Van offers, his voice soft. “I didn’t… I’m sorry if it seemed like I was using you, or something.”

“But then we’ll go out to eat, and everything’ll be fine tonight, but it’s still gonna be the same! And you’re gonna be so busy with tour, and it’s not fair to me when you’re not around, and I can’t spend my whole life roadtripping with you!”

“The bulk of this leg is over!” Van argues, “And I don’t mind if you’re busy. It’ll be your turn to text me like I’ve been texting you, yeah?” The corner of his lips quirk up in a tired smile.

“Oh my God, Van,” You groan again. You take a long, frustrated inhale. It was now or never, you realize, because he might be the best man you’ve ever been with, but he’s still completely clueless.

“I’m trying to tell you I fucking love you!” You yell, throwing your arms up. “I fucking love you! I don’t want simple and easy! I want you!”

You feel like you’re about to faint from the admission. For a terrifying moment all of the blood rushes to your head, and the only sound you can hear is your own heartbeat in your ears. You’ve put all your cards on the table, and there was no going back. Van might’ve been eager to fix things moments ago, but he could very well change his entire attitude now that the truth is out.

While you stand there, terrified, you notice his tired smile start to stretch into a grin.

“What?” He asks, grinning ear to ear.

“I love you,” You repeat, no longer yelling. Your throat hurts. It feels like the dust settling after an explosion, but your heart is skipping because Van isn’t running, not yet.

“Are you saying that I’m not simple? Or easy?” Van jokes, still beaming.

“No.” You feel a small laugh of relief bubble up. “I know it’s hard. With the traveling, and the label deadlines and stuff. But I’ve had the trial period. I wanna be able to text you and ask what you’re doing without seeming all clingy. And I don’t wanna go days without hearing from you!” Van groans at that. “And I want you to be able to tell everyone that I’m your girlfriend. Not your mate!” You say that part with a glare, remembering the conversation between him and Bondy you’d overhead by the ice machine in Detroit.

“You heard that?” Van groans again, laughing. “I didn’t know what to say! He caught me by surprise!”

“And I want my family to be able to meet you!” You add on, “Not have to lie and pretend you’re busy with band stuff because you wouldn’t come in!”

Van’s jaw drops slightly at that. “I wanted to come in!” He confesses, “I thought you were asking as an afterthought! To be polite!” He runs his hands through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. “You don’t know how bad I wanted to say yes.”

He wraps his arms around you now, pulling you in close.

“I love you, too,” He admits. “And I have for a long fucking time! I’m sorry it didn’t seem like it. I thought you liked this whole ‘simple’ thing. I was playing it up for your sake!” He sways you back and forth while you bury your head in his chest, wrapping your arms around him.

“I can’t believe you,” You shake your head against him in exasperation. You lift your head suddenly, your face inches from his. “When did you know?”

Van puffs his cheeks up with air, releasing it with a whoosh as you watch his eyes flit through the air while he considers. “On the couch on the tour bus,” He tells you. “I mean, I already did, but that was my moment of… yeah.” One side of his lips quirk up in a lopsided smile.

“Well, I win,” You tease. “Because I realized it backstage in Phoenix.”

Van’s eyes widen in shock. “You’re fucking joking!” He laughs, “And you’ve been keeping it a secret since?”

“Yeah!” You exclaim, lifting your hands from where they’re resting on his sides to gesture at him. “You were making it pretty fucking clear you weren’t interested in dating!”

“Oh, yeah?” Van challenges, his playful grin reappearing. “More clear than you attempting to break things off with me?”

“Oh, stop,” You huff, pointing to your puffy eyes and splotchy face. “Clearly you can see it wasn’t an easy decision!”

“Fuck, I thought you had it out for me,” Van laughs, letting one of his hands fall from your back so that he can run it through his hair. “Whatever I did, I was ready to accept your wrath.”

“You don’t even know,” You start, burying your face in his shirt again. Your tears are back, overwhelmed with relief that the truth was finally out, that Van loved you the same way you loved him. “This has been tearing me apart for months now.”

“Me too,” Van sighs, his palm rubbing up and down your spine. “I even told you on accident that one time.”

You freeze, trying to understand what he meant.

“Wait,” You lift your head, stepping back from him. “Are you talking about that phone call?”

“Yeah.”

At this your jaw drops. You’ve stepped out of Van’s arms, and he’s keeping his hands busy by rolling the sleeves of his button-up over his forearms. “You said you didn’t remember it!”

“I told you I loved you!” Van’s clearly embarrassed, his cheeks burning pink. “And I got all soppy about being apart on my birthday!”

“I said I loved you back!” You shout in complete disbelief. “We both admitted we loved each other and you didn’t think anything of it?”

“I was drunk! I thought you were taking pity on me! Give me a break!”

Oh God, he was impossible. You open your mouth to ridicule him further, but instead you step toward him again, cupping his jaw and bringing your lips together. There’s no sense in arguing about it anymore. Clearly you’d both been oblivious, but what did it matter now that everything had worked out?

Well, technically, you had no idea what the road ahead would bring for you two. But you’ve made it this far, right? Seven months of navigating these unspoken rules between you two, it feels like things can only get easier now that they’re dissolving right before your eyes. You kiss Van harder, and when your lips open for him it feels like all of the possibilities opening up before you: Van was your fucking boyfriend now.

In the thrill of your realization you reach for his belt buckle, struggling to undo it while you’re distracted by the kiss.

After fussing with it for longer than normal you feel the warm press of Van’s lips being pulled away, his hands coming to wrap around yours.

“You’re shaking like a leaf,” He remarks in amusement, brushing your hands aside and undoing his own belt.

“Because I love you,” You confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you too,” Van chuckles, giving you another quick kiss. “Whew, how much did you have? I feel like I took a shot just fucking kissing ya.”

“It doesn’t matter,” You tell him bluntly. “Help me out of this dress.”

Van knows you’re right because he obliges, tossing your jean jacket in the vicinity of the couch before helping you undo the zipper that runs down your back. Soon your dress has fallen around your ankles, tripping you up as you step out of the puddle of fabric on your heels.

Van’s hands reach out, steadying you. “Christ,” He laughs, guiding you to the couch. “Need help getting those heels off?”

“Please,” You sigh, flopping down on the couch in your bra and underwear, extending your legs out towards Van, who gets down on his knees to be of assistance. His fingers easily undo the straps around your ankles, releasing your feet from the hazard of your heels in no time.

His fingers tuck into the waistband of your underwear next, tugging them down your thighs and depositing them on the ground before his head’s between your legs.

You sigh happily, slumping against the cushions as you pet his hair. You can’t remember the last time you were as content as you were right now; having drunk sex with your boyfriend, the person you loved and trusted most in the world.

Your entire body feels like a warm puddle of endless summers and pleasure, but suddenly a thought pierces through the fog in your brain, and you shoot upright in your seat so fast that Van pulls away in concern.

“I have to text Mary!” You remember. Your eyes search around wildly for your bag, and you can feel the air passing between your legs without Van’s mouth keeping you warm.

Van wipes his chin, making to stand up. “Well, text her,” He says, gesturing towards the bedroom door. “Then come meet me in bed.”

You stumble up from the couch, crossing the living room naked and heading into the bathroom, where you’d left your purse.

Hello???? Mary’s sent. Did you get home safe????? Are you okay?!?

Home safe, You send back. Sorry, Van showed up unexpectedly and we talked. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow!

As soon as you’ve sent it you see the typing indicator pop up. You decide to respond to one last message before catching up to Van so you two can resume your first official romp as a couple.

If you tell me you two are done I’m gonna kill you.

At her words, you grin.

Haha nope. We both realized we’re in love with each other and we’re official now. It’s a long story.

#summer's a knife #catfish and the bottlemen #catfish and the bottlemen fanfiction #catb #catb fic #van mccann #van mccann fanfiction #van mccann fic #van fic

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yuthoe · 4 years

Text

Schedule Changes (PENTAGON: Adachi Yuto)

HELLO, IT’S 12:48AM AND I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF.

I had to churn this out because it won’t leave my head. I’d like to thank my irl friend @shiiiiiiiiinwun for inspiring me to write this collection (yes, I’m gonna be doing one for all of ot9). And for someone who’s been watching anime since she figured out how to use the internet, you’d think I could’ve come up with better names, and faster.

EDIT (06/29/20): Hi! it’s my first time making an edit like this, so i’m kinda insecure abt it lol, i hope it’s okay. this is the 2nd yuto version i did, so it’s slightly better than the first one. tumblr rlly doesn’t want us to go overboard on image size huh

WARNINGS: n/a; some angst, maybe? who’s proofreading idk her. WORD COUNT: 3,314 it’s so fucking long.

---

Minister Sakaguchi,

Unfortunately, Her Majesty will not be available for your meeting today at 3PM; urgent matters have arisen that need her immediate attention. If you would like to reschedule with her, please reply to this email.

Thank you very much for understanding.

Regards,

Y/N L/N

Secretary to the Queen

You sigh, wondering if the email you’ve typed is in the appropriate tone that won’t offend Minister Sakaguchi; in all the years you’ve been working for the royal family it doesn’t get easier writing and replying to the emails of government officials, invitations to interview Her Majesty for magazine features, requests to attend public functions like galas and balls. The ridiculous amount of mail she gets, that are automatically forwarded to you, is mind-boggling, in anyone else’s eyes. It doesn’t surprise you anymore, though.

The queen as a monarch takes the backseat to running the kingdom, to any foreigner that decides to take a look at articles from international news sources. Her name isn’t mentioned as much as the king’s when it comes to referencing big developments in the state. Rather, the local newspapers and online sites have her name and face on some article at least once a week. The queen takes care of the little things, smaller projects that delve more into social welfare than her husband’s institutional programs. She is a strong advocate for women’s and children’s rights, as well as a figure in health outreach programs for the poorer sectors of society. Her compassion and dedication to her job is what made you want to work for her; she was like a role model to you, along with her husband.

It was a stroke of pure luck that got you this job; your first day as the secretary for Minister Yamazaki turned into you being his substitute with only a day’s notice. He had gotten sick with the flu and you were immediately thrust into a role you knew almost nothing about. So you took all the files related to the subject of the meeting and studied up on them the night before, turning up the next day and pulling out opinions as if you yourself spearheaded the project. The queen, upon finding out that you were new, was so impressed and had talked to Minister Yamazaki (who was still in his sickbed) over the phone about enlisting you under her employ.

It’s been five years since then. Five fast-paced, fulfilling, exciting years working closely with the royal family. At this point, your relationship with the queen is more of a friendship than strictly professional, and you’re grateful for it. The people you interact with on a daily basis are mostly considerably older than you--ministers, program leaders, the palace staff--and the talk is all business. So you’re grateful for your weekend teatime with the queen, sometimes with her children joining you, who are some of the only people your age you talk to on a regular basis, apart from the younger maids and kitchen staff. The afternoons out in the garden are the queen’s time to unwind and review everything that happened the previous week, as well as scheduling the succeeding weeks. The stress of planning therefore comes to a head on Saturdays so the week can sail by calmly.

Today is one of those Saturdays. Minister Sakaguchi had scheduled a dinner meeting with the queen yesterday--something about the upcoming fair for disenfranchised women, although you suspect Minister Sakiguchi will try to sneak in pitches for other programs she has in mind. The queen had agreed, so you penciled in the meeting into your schedule. However, the queen seemed under the weather when she came out earlier, that you had advised her to cancel it, assuring her that Minister Sakiguchi would understand.

The queen takes a sip of her favorite rosehip and lemon tea, fingers delicate on the porcelain, and you send the email, huffing out a sigh. You place your phone facedown on the glass table and take a sugar cookie from the plate. “Just sent the email, Your Majesty,” you say. “Now you can just focus on resting tonight.” You smile as you take a bite.

Your boss smiles as she replaces the teacup on its saucer. “Thank you,” she says, relaxing against the lounge chair. “To be honest, I didn’t think Minister Sakiguchi would talk so much about the fair anyway. She probably suggested a meeting to tell me more of her ideas for the women’s sector.” You smile. Bingo. “Is anything else scheduled for tomorrow?”

You glance at your open laptop, as well as the printed-out spreadsheet on your lap. It’s an organized mess of colors and times and places and people. “Just the charity gala tomorrow night. I’ve coordinated with Subaru and she said the king will be late by an hour. Will you go alone?”

She tilts her head in thought and hums. “I don’t want to be late. Is there anyone available?”

You click through the several pinned tabs on your laptop to the tab for the royal family’s shared schedule. “It seems Princess Akari is free, as well as Prince Yuto,” you say after a moment.

“Ah, Akari will be busy designing something for the fair, I think, so maybe she won’t want to go,” the queen muses.

“So you’ll just take the prince, then? I’ll contact Daiki and ask him to notify the prince.”

“No need,” a deep, disembodied voice comes in from somewhere in the hedges before Prince Yuto pops his head into view. He walks towards the table as you clear up a space for him, closing your binder and putting that on top of the clipboard among other printouts on one of the spare chairs between you and the queen.

The prince strides across the grass in his black dress pants and long-sleeved shirt, to greet his mother. He places his hands softly on her shoulders and leans down to give her a kiss on the cheek. The queen smiles and accepts the kiss, patting a hand over one of his; her mood instantly lifts, and her posture relaxes further. As the youngest son, she dotes on him a lot; he in turn always keeps his mother company and can rarely be seen in public not by her side or his father’s. You think their relationship is sweet, and so do the many news articles posted online about it.

Prince Yuto takes a seat on the only empty chair and fixes himself a cup of tea while saying, “What’s the gala for?”

“The orphanages in the farther provinces,” the queen says as she takes a saucer and stacks it high with dark chocolate-coated cookies, pushing the small plate at her son’s direction. “Some dignitaries from other kingdoms as well as celebrities will be attending. And I will announce the new scholarship program for our state schools. There’s a chance your father won’t make it, so I’d like a companion.”

“Of course I’ll go with you, Mother,” Prince Yuto says after swallowing a bite of cookie. He turns to you. “What time is it?”

“Call time for the royals and major government officials is 7PM, and the program starts at 7:30. I’ll contact Daiki with the details as well,” you say.

The prince shakes his head, but there’s a smile on his face as he turns to the queen. “It’s such a shame, I thought you two were talking about Y/N transferring to my office,” he jokes. It’s a bit that he’s brought up many times before, and both you and the queen take it as a joke since you figure he just wants someone closer to his age with more experience than Daiki, who is about four years older and has only been working with him for two years.

The queen lets out a laugh and takes her teacup again. “What’s the matter with Daiki? He seems to be doing a good job.” Her eyes meet yours as she takes another sip, glinting in amusement.

Prince Yuto is smiling his bright, beautiful smile that the camera loves as he looks fondly at his mother. He probably got wind of her feeling run-down and hurried here to try to distract her. You know the queen is the most important person to him, and the queen may not know it, but it’s obvious to everyone else. “Well, as you know, Y/N is better,” he continues, “and Daiki-san is a stick-in-the-mud.” The teasing makes you huff out a laugh, immediately raising a hand to cover your mouth; Daiki is truly a stick-in-the-mud, even more than you are.

The queen laughs boisterously, throwing her head back. “Oh, you’re such a jokester, Yuto.” She sighs, fully relieved, and you’re thankful he decided to stop by. The queen finishes her tea and says, “Well, this was a fun teatime. I have some paperwork I have to sign, so Y/N, you may go.” She turns to her son. “It’s so nice of you to stop by, sweetheart,” she says, and leans down to drop a kiss on the crown of his head. “I’ll be seeing you both.” The queen glides away, and you briefly wonder how she can walk that gracefully in heels over damp, unpaved grass--but then you remember she’s the queen and has been doing this for years. She turns around the corner of the hedge and disappears.

You sigh and shut down your laptop, gathering your stuff as you message Daiki about the charity gala. You slide the laptop in your bag, and put all the printouts in order into a folder, before slipping everything else inside. You’re just about to get up to leave before Prince Yuto’s voice stops you.

“You sure you won’t consider transferring to my office?” you hear the prince suddenly ask. He’s looking at you, piercing eyes that make everyone in the kingdom, young and old, swoon. And if you didn’t talk to him everyday and your self-control had been any less, you would probably give in to whatever he wanted.

So you try to mask your rapidly beating heart behind a fond, teasing smile. “Well, I don’t really have a say in it. Don’t think the queen wants to let me go, anyway,” you say, taking a proffered dark chocolate-covered cookie from the prince and biting into it. The rich, slightly bitter punch of the chocolate explodes on your tongue.

The prince looks at you with a small smile. “I was serious, you know,” he says simply. “I mean, you won’t be as busy so you’ll have more free time, and the stuff I do is just small, as a minister for cultural arts. I split it with another person.”

You’re already shaking your head. “I like my job. I love working for the queen and seeing the results of what she’s done. You know she’s been my role model since I was a teenager, so this is a dream for me. And as much as I want a break sometimes, I can’t let this opportunity go.” You sigh, heart heavy now, and stand. “I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

He stands with you. “I know I’ve told you to call me just ‘Yuto’ before, didn’t I?”

“But decorum--,”

“Yeah, fine, practice etiquette in public, but when we’re alone you can just call me by my name.” You don’t answer, and hesitantly purse your lips. And then the prince begins to pout. “Come on, if you don’t wanna work for me, at least call me Yuto.” He presses the tips of his index fingers together and says, “I miss you,” so cutely, with his big puppy dog eyes and hilariously deep voice that’s sorely out of place for the cutesy thing he’s trying to do.

You have to laugh, bending down at the waist and steadying yourself with the table as you cackle. “Fine, fine,” you relent. “I’ll call you Yuto in private from now on.” You heave your heavy bag up onto your shoulder with a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

***

“You look beautiful tonight,” someone says behind you. You turn carefully, eyes meeting Yuto, in another black ensemble: turtleneck under an overcoat with black dress pants and boots. His hair is slicked back artfully, apart from the stray locks of hair that insist on falling over his eyes. Simple, but very handsome; the paparazzi and journalists must be having a field day with that outfit.

And you look down at yourself: standard black satin-and-chiffon off-shoulder gown that you usually wear to these types of stuff. Your shoes are your everyday pair, and you’re thankful that the dress comes all the way to the floor because they are getting scuffed at the tip. Your hair is wavy, the result of sleeping in a braid through twelve hours, but you manage to tame it into a loose bun that’s mostly out of your face. The only accessory you have is the necklace you’ve worn since your mother passed down to you six or seven years ago. Makeup is minimal because you are here to assist, not be the center of attention. Everything you put into your appearance tonight is just to make sure you look clean and professional. And invisible.

You roll your eyes at the prince. “Your Highness, I look like this everytime the queen needs to go somewhere fancy. I don’t think ‘beautiful’ is the right word.” You know he means well, but you’re just plain, from your shoes to your face to your position in society, you’re just simple, unremarkable.

The prince furrows his brows and takes his place standing beside you. “You are, though. You may not see it, but I do.” He casts you a quick glance before turning his focus to the stage, where a popular singer is performing one of her new songs onstage as an opening act. “And those photographers over there see it, too.”

You whip your head at him before scanning the event hall for any cameras pointed at you, heart pounding hard in your chest. You don’t spot any, but you still say, “I think you had better take your seat, Your Highness. I bet those people just want to make a scandal out of nothing.” Prince Yuto may be the youngest out of the royal children, but that does not mean he is risk-free. He is being trained for the position of Minister of Culture and the Arts; he has a large following of young people who look up to him as a leader and as a person; he is one of the most important people in your life, and you can’t bear for anything bad to happen to him.

The work tablet you brought is getting crushed in your folded arms from how tight you’re clutching it. “I’m going to find Daiki--,” you say softly, making to leave, but getting stopped once again by the prince.

He’s holding one of your arms gently, but strong enough to pull you back beside him. “It’s okay,” he says. “Let them. It’s fine.”

You pull your arm away. “Your Highness, it’s not fine. You can’t risk a scandal blowing up on you right now. Everyone has eyes on you, even if you don’t think so.” You’re worried. The last thing you want is for him to get in trouble because of you.

The prince sighs. “Y/N, there’s not gonna be a scandal if we’re actually together.”

You take a moment to think. “What? You want us to pretend to be a couple? I don’t think it’s a good idea; people might get the misconception that you’re slacking off, or--,”

“No, I mean--,” he sighs frustrated, more at himself than at you, but he keeps his composure and his face remains stoic; you both are still in public, after all. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for a while now, but I just didn’t know how to say it, and I certainly didn’t plan on telling you at a charity event where hundreds of people could hear.” He��s rambling--a sign that he’s nervous, unprepared.

Prince Yuto takes a calming breath before fully facing you. “I like you, Y/N,” he says softly, aware of the number of ears that are possibly listening in. “I’ve liked you since the day you started working for my mom, and I liked you even more the longer you stayed. You’re a hard worker, you’re dedicated to your job, you genuinely care for the queen and the things she does for the people. And I’m thankful that I got close to you as much as I have because you do mean a lot to me. I know I don’t show it, because I’m not sure how to show it, and I don’t know how you would react to it. But I do like you. Very much.” He releases a breath and looks you in the eye. “So will you try? To be with me?”

All this you take in with wide eyes and a shocked-open mouth. You know the prince is not the most outgoing person; he’s most relaxed when he is with people he knows, which are limited to his family and their secretaries, along with some of the senior palace staff. You’ve never seen him in a pickle of trying to get someone’s attention, but you do remember him offering to carry your heavy work back once or twice and you insisting on carrying yourself; him telling you that you look beautiful even if you wear the same plain things all the time; him giving you a box of (really expensive) chocolate for Valentine’s Day on the excuse of “I gave all the royal family’s employees chocolates”; him giving you a piece of his favorite chocolate cookies, even though you’ve never seen him offer them to anyone else.

All this time he’s been telling you how he feels and you’ve never noticed. And you yourself can’t even tell him the same because you don’t want to risk the prince getting hurt, you getting hurt, the queen getting hurt because of your selfishness. Your work is important to you, and you can’t jeopardize it for your happiness.

But here he is, Prince Yuto. Being brave enough to know the uncertainty of what lies ahead and being prepared to face it, if you answer him; if you push aside your fear of messing up and tell him you like him back; if, for once, you look to your heart instead of thinking of your work.

He stands tall beside you, an imposing figure of grace and compassion. A man people look up to. A leader who is innovative, yet respects traditions. A role model for young people who are inspired by his music, his acts of service to everyone. A son that is loved by his parents, a brother that is loved by his siblings. A friend who listens and is always there, but always pushes you out of your comfort zone.

How can you not fall for him?

How can you say no, when everything around you points to yes?

You’re nodding your head before you know it, still too shocked to properly process the last five minutes. “Yes. Yes, I’ll try being with you.”

The blinding smile is back, and you can’t help but return it. The prince nods, unable to suppress the grin on his face and gestures to the audience, milling about finding their tables. “I’ll be on my way, then. Find my mother.” He clears his throat, fidgets about with his coat and pockets. “Good luck for the rest of the night,” he says with a nod, before leaving.

You just curtsy, still beaming and your heart is drumming in your chest like crazy, but it feels light. Like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders and you can take flight at any moment, straight into his arms.

#pentagon #pentagon yuto #adachi yuto #pentagon adachi yuto #pentagon yuto scenario #adachi yuto scenario #pentagon scenarios #pentagon imagine #universe net #uninet #fic: mine #fic: not spicy #fic: yuto

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neshabeingchildish · 5 years

Text

Your Mom

Did not intend to have so many OCs here, but it's a moms-centric chapter and has some other folk you might come across in college - friends, coworkers and stuff. I gave Charlotte’s mom the name Rosemary and Jasper’s mom the name Pansy. Bear with me. Sorry. ILU thanks.

Your Mom

“Are the straights okay?” a friend typed as the caption of a post with a bride grabbing the groom and forcing him into marriage. Charlotte kept scrolling. The straights were not okay for a number of reasons, and that was one of the ones that she didn’t relate to, at all. There’d be no dragging of men to the altar for her. She was almost certain that somebody might have to drag her to one, in order for it to go down, if she was perfectly honest, but she’d lucked out and managed to find a decent man who managed to remake himself into a godsend for her, and she believed it was what she deserved.

Being pampered on her period was one thing, but Jasper’s nurturing was like… constant. He’d figure out that something worked and he would go for it, tried and true and be her rock through just about anything. Some people didn’t like for things to remain the same. They felt like it was stagnant or got stale, but Charlotte hated change. She liked to be comfortable and the rollercoaster of fitting herself into Jasper’s world was one that had been uproarious and uncomfortable. While she hated that he seemed sad that he didn’t have the time to do a lot of the things that he used to, she loved not needing to dress up, go out, small talk or be seen by his friends as a bitch or a buzzkill, interact with people who were way drunker than her, and way stupider, even on their smartest days… Like… She was glad that he was too busy to socialize. But, she also felt bad about it, because Jasper thrived on that energy.

He flourished and blossomed and without it, she was worried that he might wither into his former sadness. SO, she got out of her comfort zone, hated it the entire time and plotted to try to get schedules to arrange a couple’s camping trip with some of his frat bros and their current interests or partners. She felt more comfortable about doing something that they wouldn’t be on campus for and able to invite every stoner and wild child in town, but something that she could also enjoy. Nature, hiking, maybe even a little partying by the campfire, or perhaps, they could rent a cabin! She still had to sort the details out whenever she could figure out when schedules would allow it. But, it also meant speaking with his bosses. Now… The tattoo parlour, it was all good. They loved him. He brought a lot of customers in, and a lot of traffic and they considered him like family - he had that effect on people. But, the internship… It was unpaid and he also hadn’t been there for very long. She did some research to figure out who she might be dealing with. She knew that the guy at the firm who took him on was an alumnus of his fraternity, but she didn’t know much else. A little delving couldn’t hurt. This dude’s name is Bart? He goes by Barty? Wait… Bartholomew Buttkiss? She cackled and kept looking. Typical WASP shit. Involved with more companies than he would ever put on the Internet, children looking like they’re about to do The Purge, grandchildren looking like The Village of the Damned. Game hunting (exotic animals, asshole…), golf (eye roll), lacrosse champion… Jazz enthusiast… “Okay… Maybe I can work with this, Mr. Buttkiss.” Charlotte searched through his profiles and through interviews and really put WAY more time into that than she even had into planning the actual goddamn trip! BUT…

She showed up at the firm, around when Jasper usually took a lunch break (when he might have called her), but early enough that she was able to be there whenever Barty was gonna be heading out for golf with a buddy. Don’t ask her how she found that out… She wore a long jazz festival shirt with cute little musical notes leggings and packed a huge basket of treats, including some peach tarts, old Barty’s faves and she came up to the desk as she saw him coming from out of the work area. “Hi!” She said to the receptionist, “Hoping that Jasper Dunlop is available for lunch. I can certainly wait, if he’s not, but I hope it’s possible to let him know that Charlotte is here. I brought some treats for your troubles.” She set the basket on the desk and opened it to let the smell out. “I recommend the peach tarts. They’re homemade.”

Barty headed over to the desk and asked, “I’m sorry, what’s happening here?”

Charlotte smiled at him and offered her hand, “Hi! I’m Charlotte. My fiance is an intern here. I’m trying to treat him to lunch, a little surprise. I brought enough treats at least for a few people.”

“You said that you’ve got peach tarts, huh?” Barty asked and looked into the basket, then helped himself. He made a bunch of obnoxious noises that she almost broke character behind, before declaring, “These are some of the best peach tarts I’ve ever tasted! You made these? Mmmm.” He grabbed another.

“I did! I didn’t know what to make, so I have a selection of stuff here. Help yourself.”

“Jasper, was it? He’s a good kid. You’re his fiance?” He gave her a lookover, and she couldn’t tell if he was judging her or just looking. “I didn’t realize that he was engaged.”

“It’s new. I’m trying to make sure that I’m a good, supportive woman, you know, but you can’t tell a man anything when he’s used to doing things and being successful. I’m trying to plan a camping trip, for instance, and he INSISTS that there’s no way that he’d ever be able to take the time off. He’s never gonna ask for it, so I have to just do what I can and squeeze in these little moments where I can, you know? Gotta make sure that he knows that I love him enough to bake for the office and set up picnics.”

“Are you gonna be a housewife?”

“In this economy?” She asked, and laughed. “No. I mean, he wants to be the breadwinner, but I’m actually one of the top people in my class and already working professionally in my field, lower level things. We’ve all gotta start someplace, right? I’m at Ridgemont Diagnostics…”

“REALLY?” He was impressed. “Are you a debutante?”

“Oh, no… I’m doing all of it on this,” she pointed to her temple.

“Interesting. Well, listen, when does Jasper need some time off? He’s an intern. It’s not like the place will fall apart without him.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s more like he’s just passionate about proving himself and earning his keep. I was thinking definitely a weekend before hunting season kicks off. Him, some of the fraternity guys and their lovely ladies, just taking a break, you know?”

“Of course. Listen, here… what was your name again?”

“Charlotte Page, Sir.”

He dug into his wallet and gave her a business card. “I want to get that tart recipe from you and you can email me when you want to take Jasper away. AND a jazz fan?” He said, noting her shirt, “I didn’t really know that kid had such good taste. His wardrobe is… interesting. Very nice to meet you.” He grabbed another tart and went on his way. It was a few minutes before Jasper ever came out.

He was smiling, in a simple button shirt with a very bright tie which she said, “Hey, F Sized… Stop wearing ties to work. Or wear like… old man ones that your boss might like.”

“He says that my ties are interesting.”

“Yeah, he told me the same thing. But, it was the way he said it.” He nodded and removed the tie. “So… Just so you know, you’re gonna have a free weekend and you, me, Coogie, Snek, and Fisher are gonna go camping.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I just wooed your boss for a free weekend for you and the fellas are gonna bring a girl and we’re going camping near the mountains.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you haven’t been able to do anything that you enjoy with your friends, and I knew that I could most likely ask your boss without making it seem like YOU were trying to get out of work. Come on, I’ve got you some maple bacon pies and an extra thick milkshake. It’s thicker than you,” she said and winked at him. Whenever they got outside, she also pinched his butt. “I love that thing,” she said, smiling fondly at it.

Hey, I am taking Jasper on a camping trip with some of his buddies. Can you look at the list of stuff that I’m bringing along and tell me if I left anything off? *Sends list*

Rosemary: Baby, I’ve never been camping before in my life, but I know that you’ve never been ill prepared for anything, a single day of your life. I’m sure if there’s something to think about that you’ve thought about it. Some of that stuff, I wouldn’t have even thought of.

Adanna: Friend, I think that you’re overthinking your relationship every since the ring. You know what’s best for yourself and Jasper. You’ve known for years, from what he’s told me and his dad. He thinks that you’re the smartest person alive and the most caring. Just trust yourself. You don’t need to ask us these things.

Charlotte: I just have never thought that I would ever be a fiancee or wife and it seems like I have to, idk, do something above and beyond? No?

Rosemary:You think that I’m over here going above and beyond? Honey, your dad is lucky if he gets my best as exhausting as it is to live with a man. As long as you love him, that will show up in how you treat him and what you do. There doesn’t need to be extra stuff…

Charlotte started another chat, with just her mother and Adanna: Okay… but, Jasper has a very rocky childhood and his family wasn’t really very loving, so I feel the way that I feel because I feel like I have to still undo some of the programming he’s had of what love is. I’ve sent him “I love you” messages before he goes to bed, every single night for almost 4 years now, just to try to get it in his mind that who loves you is the person who does nice things for you and to you. I have reminders in my phone to give him compliments, just as a self esteem booster, even though I know he gets plenty of fan love or whatever. I just… wanna do this right, you know? I didn’t wanna say all that in front of his mom.

Rosemary: Would she even care?

Charlotte: I don’t know, but he would. That’s his mom. He’ll always love her, no matter what.

Rosemary: I dread my grandchildren being exposed to somebody like that.

Adanna: Why don’t you have everyone over and try to speak with her about the things that are unresolved?

Charlotte: Like… everyone? Why not just you and Mom?

Adanna: Sure, that sounds good to me.

Rosemary: I’ll do anything for you, Charlotte. She’d better watch herself…

She planned it for after the camping trip, which was fine. She wasn’t super excited to spend time with Jasper’s friends, but somehow, they were all so much more bearable than they usually seemed. Maybe everyone was growing up now, but not too much. All the ladies kept asking about wedding details and Jasper loved dishing about that, while Charlotte just kind of smiled uncomfortably, not wanting to admit that she didn’t know half this information and sort of having to bond with the fellas anytime it started up. “How’d he finally convince you?” Fisher asked. “I wanna know what to avoid.” He winked at her and she rolled her eyes. He simply clanked his beer bottle against hers and took a drink.

“I’ve known for a while that I’d be with Jasper for a long time, if he remembered that I care, and he eventually did.” She shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of her rose beer (which was the only beer that she drank); she was a wine or daiquiri girl.

“Well, he initially told us whenever he first mentioned you that you were the woman he wanted to marry. I’m talking when we were pledging. He was all stressed out and sweaty, worried about the amount of time and energy he had to put into pledging. I thought he was crazy, but then we saw you and I was like, Ahhh, I get it now.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“That you’re hot,” he said and smiled. She pursed her lips and looked at him. “What?”

“You’re the dude who had everyone calling me Warden Page freshman year!”

“So?” She scoffed and shook her head. “Anyway, when are you two getting married?”

“Probably after senior year. I’ll still have some studies, but by that time, Jasper will probably be restless being a fiance and want to get the official stuff done.”

“When you say senior year, you mean like after next year, or after Big Dog gets the rest of his credits?” She looked confused. “With the whole major change thing…?”

“Oh! Oh, that!” She had no idea wtf he was talking about, “Yeah. Probably after THAT. The whole major thing…” She stuffed the bottle back into her mouth, finished and said, “I’m gonna go to the cooler for another. You need one of yours?”

“Yes, please, Warden Page.” She narrowed her eyes but was smiling gently.

Charlotte waited until after the trip to ask Jasper, “So… what is the whole major thing… something with your credits?” He thought for a moment, then realized that they hadn’t discussed this yet and also that someone must’ve brought it up.

“Okay, I meant to talk to you about it, but I hadn’t figured out how to, just yet.”

“Why not in the same way that you told your bros?” She said, with a tight smile, trying not to be angry. Whatever this was, they could handle it.

“Well, I told them because I didn’t know if I’d need to stick around and live in the frat house for a little longer, because I switched to a double major and might have to add about a year, probably less! To… to… my transcript…” He looked so worried that she was going to be upset with him, but she was relieved. She didn’t know what she thought that he’d say, but she thought it was about to be awful.

“Okay. Well, next time, please talk to me about things like this. Why… Why don’t we just… Maybe get an apartment together or something? I know that you’re at mine a lot already, but it’s a little small for you to you know, move all of your things in.”

“I’d prefer that we waited until after I’m done with school.”

“Okay… do you also wanna wait until then to get married?”

“Yeah. I think it’s the responsible thing to do, right?” He gave her a half smile, tentative, like he was really waiting on her to answer him.

“Right… But, also… if you’re reconsidering… I get it… I’d you know… understand…”

His eyes grew wide, “You’d understand? I wouldn’t understand that at all. Why would I have second thoughts about being with you?”

“I don’t know. You just were super excited and ready to marry me ASAP, and now, you’re going to school longer, don’t wanna live with me AND want to prolong the wedding date.”

“I don’t want any of those things. I’m trying to make sure that I’m doing right by the woman who says that she’ll have me for the rest of my life. That’s something I take more serious than anything else. We’re gonna be a family, build a family… I’m not gonna build it on immature mistakes and hollow hopes. I’m… trying to do the work to be good enough.”

“You’re beyond good enough.”

“Good enough to feel good about it all. If we get an apartment and I have to cut corners somewhere, or accumulate debt or something - that affects us negatively and I just… I’m not doing that. I refuse to do that. I’m gonna be a good man, but also a real man.”

“You’re already that, Jasper. Never forget this, please?” She gave him a hug and kissed him on the chin, then grabbed a handful of butt. It was right there, so she kinda had to.

“I appreciate the level of butt stuff that I’ve gained by proposing,” he said and pulled her in by hers to kiss her. She didn’t know what he was talking about. She’d been playing on that donk since year one… She used to bounce stuff off of it.

Henry had the pleasure of bringing Jasper’s mom to Charlotte’s. Rosemary and Adanna rode together and pulled in shortly before Henry did. Henry and Jasper rushed to hug each other upon his arrival and Henry had a huge binder with material, colors, etc… stuff that you just wouldn’t be able to see very well on the computer or phone. He said he’d go say hi to Char and Jasper smiled towards his mother and said, “Thank you so much for coming. It really means a lot to us that you made the time.” She nodded, but didn’t offer anything else. But, whenever Rosemary and Adanna got out of Adanna’s van both women squealed happily and rushed to hug him.

Charlotte sighed from the window as Henry came in and looked over her shoulder. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

She shook her head, “She didn’t even try to hug him. Everybody hugged him BUT her. This is the type of stuff that I have to help him through. She doesn’t even TRY! Why have a kid?”

“At least she only had one.”

The others came inside and Adanna immediately placed her hand over her heart, “I love the energy in this place, so much.” Rosemary hugged her daughter, then Adanna and Charlotte pulled Pansy into a hug, whether she wanted it or not. Jasper wrapped his hands around Charlotte’s waist from the back and said, “Let me know if you need anything.” He kissed her on the cheekbone and said, “I’m gonna look at this wedding stuff Hen’s got.” Lady and Tramp came running out of the bedroom and Jasper called them over to him, and he and Henry each grabbed one and went out to the patio with them and their stuff.

“Want a drink or anything?” Jasper wondered.

“What have you got?”

“Juice or like all kinds, water, and I’m sure Char has some wine and rose beer.”

“Rose beer? That sounds gross. Is it gross?”

“No idea. I don’t drink, Man.”

“Oh yeah. I mean, I know you don’t drink, but you haven’t curiously tasted it or anything?”

“Naw. I don’t need to put that shit in my body,” Jasper said, petting Tramp’s head. Really, he was afraid of drinking. What if he had a problem with it, like his dad? He wasn’t gonna risk Charlotte the way that Jack Leigh had risked he and his mom. Speaking of, he glanced into the living room to see Charlotte inviting the ladies to be seated and letting them know what refreshments she had available.

“There’s sweet potato bites, varying garnishing like avocado, tomato and radish sprouts, or ricotta, cranberry walnut… I couldn’t decide which recipe was better. There’s also cucumber wrapped chicken or seafood with greek yogurt dip… some fruit, and Jasper’s got some goat and lamb in the kitchen… for dinner, with the sides and stuff. Anyway! There’s also spritzers.”

“Charlotte, relax. Have a seat,” Rosemary advised. “We’re not hard to please. We’re here to support you, not for food.”

“Thanks, Mom.” She sat down and asked Jasper’s mom, “How are you? How was the drive?”

She looked put on the spot, but answered politely, “Henry drove. It was fine.”

Charlotte nodded and smiled, then sat back in her seat. “Jasper took off tonight from the parlor, so that he and Henry could catch up, but he’s probably gonna pop in and out of here, just because he worries a lot. I’m thinking of suggesting that he moves on up to an in-person therapist. He’s been doing the therapy text service for years now and I think it’s been super helpful, but I really think that he could benefit more from someone face to face.” Pansy squirmed a little, but she didn’t say anything. “For instance, he told me that he just wants to get everything right, he doesn’t wanna get a divorce or remarry or anything like that, so he’s tacked on some more courses and we’re not going to get married or officially move in together until after that’s done.”

“That sounds like a wise choice!” Rosemary offered.

“It is, but it's not Jasper, you know? He’s impulsive. He’s very take action. He doesn’t usually plan it out this way.”

“That’s your influence, Sweetheart. Be proud of it.”

“I just really want us to be married already!” Charlotte said and was embarrassed after she did.

“Oh my God… Are you pregnant?” Pansy sat up abruptly and asked.

“What? No! I have a perfect GPA and educational and career trajectory. If I get pregnant, it’s gonna be on purpose, even with your son’s virility.”

Rosemary recoiled, “What does that mean?”

Casually, Charlotte said, “Oh, I took a sample from him to test it in the lab. He is extremely fertile. We won’t have any issues whenever we’re ready to create children… I just really love him and ever since he proposed, all that I can think about is what it’s gonna be like to be his wife. I know that isn’t very feminist, but he’s the kind of person that you just know will be excellent at these things. I’m slightly impatient about it and now it’s being pushed further away.”

Rosemary smiled and told the others, “I know what’s happening here. Whenever Jasper proposed, Charlotte’s brain plotted out a timeline of events and she maybe even made a vision board shortly afterwards to factor in that she now was gonna be a wife, and she’s made the adjustments and committed them to memory. She likes comfort and a huge change is making her uncomfortable, therefore, anxious. All she needs is a new plan of action for her timeline, but she does not like to have to change plans.”

“Mom, I am VERY versatile. I’ve had to make a lot of adaptable changes at work.”

“Changes that affected your home life?” Her mom asked. Charlotte frowned and grabbed a sweet potato. “Thought so. So… where do things change, on your last timeline?”

"I THOUGHT that I was getting married in less than a year… but now it's closer to two years."

"Have you told Jasper about how much you want to marry him sooner?" Adanna asked.

"No. I could tell he was serious about the route that he wants to go and I wanted to make sure that I don't persuade him into anything that he might resent me for later. He's very… afraid of making mistakes with serious stuff. I can't pressure him knowing how scared he is of failing."

"You don't pressure him. I'm suggesting just telling him how you feel."

She looked at his mom, "What do you think about it?"

"I think that kids get married so quickly these days and then they just fall apart. It's better to wait." Rosemary rolled her eyes and Pansy quickly tacked on, “I did the same thing and it affected my only child for the rest of his life and affected my life, too. So, I’m just throwing caution into the wind. Be sure that it’s what you are willing to do, not just what you think that you want.”

“My daughter makes good decisions,” Rosemary said.

“I’m sure.”

“What do you mean, “I’m sure?” Rosemary asked, her eyebrows up in challenge.

Pansy sighed and said, “She makes good grades and what-have-you. I don’t doubt that she’s a smart girl. I also know that being smart isn’t the only qualifier for being a good wife or good partner…”

“What are the other qualifiers on your list, Miss Pansy?” Charlotte asked and Rosemary leaned in closer, with pursed lips staring almost directly into Pansy’s face. Charlotte tried really hard not to snap, but since BEFORE she and Jasper were together, when she hadn’t even been a consideration, this woman had an issue with her and she was convinced it was because she was too brown for her liking, but she wanted to hear her admit to something, since they had the air and opportunity.

“Well, you have to be willing to put up with a lot. Jasper is very needy and demanding. You’ve gotta have a lot of patience. He’s sweet, but not the smartest boy around and can haphazardly jump into unwise decisions. He wants a lot of attention and validation, and can be extremely exhausting about it…”

“Ever think that was because he was starved for those things?” Charlotte reflexively asked. Pansy gasped and Rosemary snorted. Adanna covered her mouth with a hand, but didn’t react beyond that. Charlotte was there, now. The woman had taken her there. “Listen, I can’t say that you made bad decisions. I don’t know your heart or your mind. I don’t know your intentions. What I can say is that I know Jasper. He’s NOT needy and demanding. He wants someone to show him love and he deserves that, so to me - that isn’t a burden. He’s VERY smart. But, he doesn’t know everything. He was semi-sheltered and didn’t have a frame of reference for a lot of stuff, but whenever he had the chance to go out into the world and learn and experience things, instead of having conversation topics and true facts withheld from him, whether out of misplaced protectiveness or shirking uncomfortable responsibility - Jasper is an all A student who is seen as an activist in this town. He’s a community leader. He still has weird ideas sometimes, but he’s also helped reformed a lot of things around here that a lot of these people didn’t have the drive or the heart to ever face head on and try to tackle. And it isn’t exhausting that he wants lots of attention and validation. It's heartbreaking, because I know for a fact that he didn’t get it from home and I know that I have to be one of the most present and stable suppliers of it, because even though he’s shown everyone that none of the things you just said about him are accurate, you still treat him that way, and your his mom, the person that he would most want to treat him how he deserves to be treated. He has to get that from Internet fame, from campus popularity, from town celebrity, and whenever he comes home to me, it still wasn’t what he was looking for, because he wants it real, from somebody that he loves. Currently, that’s me. I’m that supply. We’ve been together almost 4 years now, and you have yet to tell him that you’re proud of him, or that he’s made a good decision, or that you LOVE him, WITHOUT invalidating it shortly after with some contradictory behavior. You have yet to tell him that you’re happy for him, for winning competitions and trophies, and making dean’s lists and having a hand in public policy reform. Are you… a fucking soulless monster?” Charlotte’s voice cracked. Rosemary was ready to fight, now. Hurting your own child was bad enough, but now she had spread her malice to Rosemary’s child and that wasn’t something that Bolton folk tolerated.

Jasper had peeked into the room and saw Charlotte’s face and told Henry he’d be back. The woman turned whenever the patio door opened and Jasper threw a pissed off glance in Pansy’s direction, certain that whatever was wrong with Charlotte, she was the cause of it. “Babe, you okay?” He asked, in a gentle tone and went right to her, collecting her hands and trying to get her to make eye contact with him. “Come on, let’s regroup, okay?” He helped her up and brought her into the bedroom. Their mothers began to quietly bicker about what had just happened and what had been happening. Jasper sat Charlotte on the bed and told her, “If you want her to leave, I’ll go tell her to leave, right now. No questions asked.” He cupped her cheek. “She can hurt me all she wants, but I draw the line at her hurting you. You do too much and you don’t deserve that.”

“You don’t either.”

“I know, I know, but…”

“But she’s your mom and you love her? But, what? She raised you? At least she was there? Please, help me understand why she’s so important to you that she gets to hurt you for 22 consecutive years and be brought along with you while you try to break out of the cocoon of that strife?”

“I… will let her go, if that’s what you think I should do.”

“I don’t… That’s not what I’m trying to do - make you feel like you need to let your mom go. I just want to understand it.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Well… I want to know that I did everything in my power to make sure that she felt like I was worth it. I want to feel like IF I ever did have to leave her behind, there was no other choice. I just don’t like the thought of leaving somebody behind just because they’re not who you’d want them to be. She didn’t do that to me. She kept me close, and she could’ve given me up. She let relationships fall apart whenever her husbands didn’t want me. She… wasn’t perfect, but she tried. I think that she’s been hurt, too. And she doesn;t have anybody else to tell her to contact a therapist, or focus in hard on loving her, and trying to build with her… I’m it. I’m all that she has. My stepdad doesn’t even look at her anymore. I know how it feels to have people around and still feel lonely. I don’t want that for my mom, no matter if she’s not nice to me. No matter if she might deserve that. Because, what if she doesn’t? What if there’s something that we just don’t know and she doesn’t know how to tell us? I just… don’t want to hurt anybody like that. Not even her.”

“But, you would, if you thought that was what I wanted?”

“I would do what was best for you, if I had no other options, yes.”

She sighed and shook her head, “I’d never ask you to sacrifice your morals. I just hate that those are what brings you pain.” She cupped his face and they kissed. As though kissing could release every bit of stress and turmoil carried into the room and nothing else could. It was a moment before Jasper noticed that they weren’t alone. He broke the kiss and turned to stare at his mother, who was staring at the ground. Charlotte’s eyes followed, then she rolled them and got up to leave. Pansy caught her wrist, gently, then quickly let go.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a quiet voice. That was new. She let go of Charlotte and looked up at Jasper. Charlotte stuck around. “I should have been better to you, for you. It’s entirely possible that I resented you, because of Jack… That’s not fair and nobody ever wants to admit it. We want to think that we did our best and that we were good parents. We make a ton of excuses. Mine being, at least I was around, at least I wasn’t a drunk who almost killed him in car, at least I didn’t hang out with potheads and shady musicians and witches!” Jasper was speechless. She came into the room and sat next to him. “I hated your father. I still hate him. Whenever I agreed to let him see you, I hated it, but it seemed like what you wanted, so I tried. He was cordial. He seemed like he was changed, like he was trying… then he showed up one day with this WOMAN who he’d met through Roscoe Bolton, of all people!”

“You mean Adanna? The nicest woman in the world, who he met through Uncle Rox, the coolest dude in the world?” Jasper corrected her.

“I mean Adanna, who I recognized as a woman who built up a witch shop on her marijuana revenue, who he met through one of the only people that I’ve ever hated as much as Jack!”

“Wait. You hate MY uncle? Everybody loves my uncle, and it doesn’t make sense to me because he’s always been kind of a wreck until a few years ago, but what did you have against my uncle?”

“He wasn’t good company!” Pansy practically squealed. “He didn’t make Jack do anything, so it’s not like I blame him for Jack’s discrepancies, but first of all, he was a shady musician, always convincing Jack to come with him on tours for weeks, despite knowing that he had a pregnant wife at home who needed him…”

“You also needed money and Dad’s job wasn’t making enough. Those tours were!” Jasper fussed, defensively. She’d hit a nerve bringing Uncle Rox into this, especially after whatever she’d done to upset Charlotte.

“I would have preferred to struggle a little bit than to be lonely and depressed while I was pregnant. And Roscoe kept introducing him to women, who like I said, it’s not his fault, but why even do so? Just remind him to call me. Why is it so hard to just say, ‘I know we’re touring, but don’t forget why you’re doing this?’ You know why? Because he understood, like Jack did that the only reason he married me was because of you and when I saw that he was still communicating with that man and still meeting women through him, I figured he was probably still going on tours, smoking pot, drinking, losing himself in the arms of some pretty thing and trying to clean up for his visits and I-” She clenched her fists. “I wasn’t going to be that stupid anymore. I didn’t expect to take my anger out on you. I didn’t expect to treat you like you were Jack and I didn’t expect to treat your friend like she was Roscoe, but whenever I saw the two of you together, all I could think about were the nights that all I got was a drunken phone call asking about my son, who I was at home with, by myself, stressed, depressed, infuriated and barely holding it together, while he partied and drank and couldn’t hold down a decent job to save his miserable life. You came home one day, and said that you met this cool dude, your friend’s uncle. You were so excited to meet him and you thought he was so cool and looked up to him and I knew who he was and I told you to stay away from him. You ignored me. You never ignored me, but you did… Like your father.”

“Okay,” Charlotte interrupted, sick of this, “I get that. I would be extremely pissed off at people who affected my life in that way too, but Jasper didn’t do that to you.”

“I realize that. I’m not making any excuses. I’m just… trying to… open up to my son…”

Charlotte sighed and said, “Okay. Jasper, I’m gonna be out here, if you need me.” She didn’t want to hear any more of this, but Jasper looked worried about her leaving. “Unless you want me to stay?”

“Please?” He asked, in a low voice. She returned to his side and wrapped her hands around his, looking at his crying mom with zero sympathy. As far as she was concerned, the woman was turning things around and what she just needed to say were a few things: I was wrong. I’m sorry. You deserve better. I will do better. Charlotte didn’t give a damn about any other words. But, she looked at Jasper’s empathetic face. He did. He gave a damn about this woman. He always would. THIS was one of those sacrifices that people spoke about. Because, there was no way that she could be with him and not have to put up with this chick, at least sometimes. She freed one of her hands to stroke his hair and it broke his trance a little bit. He glanced at her and smiled, his eyes lit up and for a moment, he forgot that he was listening to this sob story from the person who had hurt him for most of his life.

“I’m so sorry. I was wrong and I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to try. That’s why I’ve been trying to be involved and why I’m here. I just want to do better in the future…” Pansy eventually uttered. Charlotte could almost visibly see a huge weight lifted off of Jasper’s chest and shoulders and mind… Like… She could visually spot the worry lines evaporate and see the insecurity melt away. It was extremely weird, but beautiful. And, she still didn’t have a fuck to give about that lady, but the way that Jasper hugged her, the comfort that he took in that declaration, whether or not Charlotte trusted it, it made her heart swell. He deserved those things. And she’d better be true about trying to give them to him.

#A Chasper Fic #chasper #henry danger #hd fanfic #Nesha HD Fics

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mitsuhasnolifebutwatchesanime · 5 years

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Part two of hiatus ending! (I hope!)

Time to take this blog seriously (or maybe take it with a different approach)

So I do want to get back to business with some rants, reviews, and maybe a few like, idk me talking at a camera for ages or something.

First and foremost, the queue is gonna slowly come back to life

If you love anime animation and gifs of such, pls shoot them to my messages and I'll gladly add them to my queue! Nothing crazily edited or grayscale tho

I have lost my editor to her moving and didnt want to put any pressure on her to stay. I'd love even just someone to take a cursory glance over my stuff before I post it bc author's blindness is REAL

If you're interested in that, DM me here, or even shoot me an email [email protected] OR my discord (dm for details)

I need to rework my schedule. During two moves I've lost all my anime notes to important adult paperwork, so I gotta start from scratch hahaha

I do need to catch up on shows I found to be priority contenders for the top ten/five which is my favorite post of the year and it was utter heartbreak to slash it and not do it :,^( I just didnt have the content

I'm also super down to opening a small discord server and hosting watch nights or w/e

I do work nearly full time to afford rent, and I hate to ask as I'm not doing anyone a service or personally suffering. Iffin you want to throw a buck by way or enquire about merch/media I may be trying to sell, please DM me or PayPal [email protected]. seriously, just putting it there if you feel like it DO NOT TAKE THIS AS A DEMAND I'M NOT SUFFERING!

I need to expand my blog from just the reviews for anime. I want to talk about manga, movies, special stuff that happens in Japan and in the industry. I want to talk industry news with the industry, even if they're assholes about it AGAIN (looking at you SB. Where's volume 12 of Descendants of Darkness?)

ALMOST TOTALLY FORGOT

A-kon is at the end of the month! To any and everyone going to Dallas that weekend I wanna see and talk to y'all! Really I'm not shy, just wanna spout my nonsense at ya and get down and dirty with the anime talk ❤❤❤

Hmu if you're going to A-kon or tag me! Let's talk!

PHEW!

That was a lot of cluttered nonsense to go through, but I just wanted to get it out there. Let's talk, send questions, requests, w/e, I wanna talk so badly about the new fruits basket. Just all the things!

I am back baby!!!

#anime review #mitsu's anime reviews #anime #crunchyroll #a kon #a kon 2019 #updates #hiatus #funimation #manga #long post #sorry for the huge dump at 5am!!!

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texts-from-reborn · 6 years

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Vongola kids as professors

Tsuna: walks into class and sets up. Sits down and stares at back of room. Class was supposed to start 10 mins ago. All his students stare. The classroom is eerily silent.

Tsuna abruptly gets up and says, “oh the clock in the back is wrong…”

Hibari: Teaching human biology this semester for w.e reason. “There are 3 types of bone fractures.” He can hear two annoying students chatting in the back. “I’ll demonstrate a compound fracture on xxxx”

Gokudera: 5 mins into class he says, “it’s snowing tonight so you guys can go home early”

“But… This is an 8am class”

“No questions?”

“Um for the assignment-”

“Great. Class dismissed.”

Mukuro:

“Professor are we gonna get back our-”

Mukuro laughs. “Look, there’s no way I was gonna grade your terrible papers and ruin my weekend.”

Yamamoto:

Currently all his students are taking an exam. One student comes up and hands in his test, Yamamoto looks over it. “Hmm. I think you should try again on this one, you’re really close.”

“I…I don’t think you’re allowed to say that??”

Ryohei:

“dude how was the exam?”

“It was weird…did you get E for every question???”

“Yeah…maybe it was…a mistake? Idk”

“Maybe the teacher did it to fuck with us.”

No, Ryohei just loved his “EXTREME” catchphrase.

Chrome:

She sends out an email cancelling class. “I’m so sorry students, my pet owl died this weekend. Also a couple of my glass arteries broke. I’m currently in the hospital. I apologize for cancelling class.”

Students can’t believe she’s so sweet but she doesn’t have to apologize for her situation. They all pay her a visit. She says sorry again and gives them a 100 on the next quiz.

Lambo:

He announces he’s gonna make copies and that he’ll be back in 10 mins. The class waits and waits. 20 minutes has passed. He returns.

“Where are the study sheets?” A student asks eyeing her professor’s plastic bags.

Lambo reaches into his bag, opening a pack of grape candies. “The what?”

“The reason you left in the first place!”

“Oh” Lambo pops a piece of candy into his mouth. “I forgot we have to pay to print and I’d rather not”

#khr #inspired by actual professors lmao #okay but the professor who inspired chrome's was a fucking angel #like one of the kids he was gonna adopt passed away #and the other one started having heart problems #and he was so sorry #and we were just like dude its ok we love u take the week off #okay thats enough rambling from me #still need to post the drunk thinggggg

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softboywriting · 6 years

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Y’all need to know something that’s going on with me right now. I’m making this post in your best interest because I feel like it’s important that other writers and bloggers who follow me should know. If you follow or contact the user ironfurycollector, they are not an honest person and faked their own death to me.

Okay so I started talking to her in September and it was great. both Shawn fans and she loved my fics. we exchanged a few pics, and we talked about our lives a little bit from time to time. but i started to wonder why she never posted anything on her blog, only liked everything. no big deal. some people just dont reblog a lot.

then there was some outtake pics she bought that she was gonna email to me and when she sent them they were from her ‘brother’s email. she said something about hers being hacked a while back. now the question is, why not just make a new one? it takes ten seconds. (this email fiasco can be backed up by another trusted friend, more to come on this.)

it was a red flag but i ignored it and moved on. we talked more and more about shawn and my fics. (side note: some time in December she sent me a pic that her friend recently took but she was in a hoodie and a puffy coat, it’s dead ass summer in AUS rn. NOT coat weather. i mentioned this in the chat but she just moved on to another topic) but then i started getting really suspicious after she entered this relationship with her brother’s best friend. see, it was too perfect, too ‘fic’ like but i just went with it cuz it was interesting and maybe he was this good and i was a sucker for it.

but then it just got over the top. the stories, the details, it just was too much for a first time relationship and the guy/her being only 18-19 years old.

so at one point he supposedly left a little scavenger hunt of notes around her place when she fell asleep and he had to leave. this was only a week or two into their relationship. pretty unbelievable. so then shes sending me pics of the little riddle notes for her scavenger hunt and the handwriting changed half way thru. also, one of the pics there was a guy’s leg in the pic. and she lied to me and said it was a fake one her brother pranked her with on Halloween. well. i called her on that, asking for a pic of it and she fessed up to lying saying ‘she was embarrassed cuz she couldn't figure out the clues and she had her friend Bradley come over to help her’. which, honestly sure i’d buy but why lie? and how fast did he get there? smells fishy.

moving on. i was confused cuz she said her friend was named Bradley. well. that was also the name on the ‘brother’s email’ she was using. i called her on this. she said they are both Bradley and she calls her brother B. I was iffy. What are the chances. Honestly.

At this time i called her out and told her i thought she was cat fishing me. and asked to see a pic of her with the notes from the scavenger hunt. which she took forever to send a pic, making up the excuse of being in the bathroom, and they getting dressed but finally did. it appeared she was holding the notes but idk tbh. (in all her pics shes sent it’s clearly the same girl)

Fast forward and she has this wild weekend with her now boyfriend/ brother’s best friend. like so much sex. it’s literally impossible how long they supposedly went and how many times her boyfriend supposedly came. it was just too wild and for her claiming to be a virgin, it was too much and he, being a supposedly 18yr old was way too experienced sounding. seriously. it was like a fic.

so like i asked for a pic of her boyfriend cuz supposedly he’s so shawn like and shit and all i’ve seen was this one generic pic of him (god knows where that came from) and she can’t get any on facebook and blah blah. now i asked several times for pics of this boy (shes with him all the time) but she always had an excuse. always.

at this point im just so suspicious she’s lying about everything. now her boyfriend is going off for a sports camp thing for a month in the US. shes sad. okay. but then about two days later she says she has some family drama and won’t be available for a few days. im like okay. shit happens.sure.

she tells her best friend ‘Bradley’ to message me on tumblr so i wouldn’t be lonely. so he had to make a tumblr cuz ‘he just used hers to read your fic’. so im like okay sure. well. while i talked to him i noticed he speaks, types, has the same exact quirks as her. i mean so specifically the same. i use lmao a lot, too much perhaps. and she started using it too cuz we talked all the time, you pick things up from people. but for this guy, whom ive never spoken with and i assume would have their own quirks and way of speaking, to be the exact same is super fishy to me.

so a few days later she texts me (i have her cell # and have since just after the boyfriend thing started) and shes like saying that she’s not in AUS anymore and that her boyfriend just COULDNT be with out her and paid for a flight to come stay with him for a week in the US while he’s doing his sport thing. Not sure where an 18 year old boy gets money like that let alone how she was staying with him, specially if he was on an exchange program for a school function. red flag. im suspicious.

so then she says ‘oh its so boring here all day with out him cuz hes at camp for sports” and im like thinking well....you could text me all day or message me on tumblr but you don’t? doesn't make sense. so when i get a chance to talk to her, she says shes heading home soon. and i ask what the family drama was and she says something about her aunt. and i dont remember how it came up but i asked about her living situation back home. cuz previously she’d sent me stuff about living with a roommate but now she was saying she lived with her brother. so i asked. and she said she lives at home but her parents have been away for a while but they just came back and then there was drama with her aunt. like, what? that just didn’t make sense to me at all. she never mentioned moving or anything and always said she lived with her brother (never mentioned parents ever before and also where the fuck would they be for so long??). (also side note, when we first started talking she said she had a horse/pony and his name was Waffles i think and she loved him so much and was always out there with him. never ever heard about this again. ever.)

so here’s the point where i am just done with this and i have a bad feeling and i can’t ignore it anymore. she tells me her boyfriend will be back soon and i should go talk to Bradley about my concept i wanted to tell her about. i told her im not as comfortable talking to him about it cuz it’s not the same. she insists. and then...she calls him Larry. and im like what? who? and she tells me this story how that’s his nickname cuz her mom would call them that when she got mad when they were kids. (that makes no sense) and she called him that since he beat up some guy for her in high school (still makes no sense and now im absolutely done with this not adding up shit) also this whole time ‘Bradley’ hasn’t been on for a day or two. and suddenly as soon as i say goodbye to her. he’s suddenly online. Fishy.

I decide not to talk and i block him to see what happens. nothing happens. so now i decide to take this story to a friend on here who i trust a lot. she tells me to block her and see what happens. see if she notices. a day later and she’s supposed to be home from the US and back in AUS. i get a text, something about a car accident on the way home from the airport. I don’t respond.

at this point my trusted friend mentions a user randomly contacting her and sending her outtakes in exchange for writing a oneshot a while back. and that the email was weird and ‘fishy’ and ‘from her brothers email.’ low and behold. it’s the same person i’ve been talking to. and she told my trusted friend that she got the pics ‘from her friend’ when she told me should bought them (with what money idk cuz they were expensive $80-$100 per sets and yet she was complaining about bring broke??)

I go on with my blogging and writing. next day. she doesn't text me. another day and she sends something along the lines of “hope you’re okay i noticed you haven’t been active.” I don’t respond because I want to see if she notices I've blocked her and asks me about it.

another day passes.

I don’t get any messages about being blocked, or asking what’s going on or why can’t she see my tumblr, etc. Things that an actual person and normal friend would probably be sending texts about far more frequently than just one or two texts.

so then i get a text today from her cell that says this

which i don’t believe for one second. so i take it to my trusted friend. and she tells me that she has liked a few of her posts since last night. oh. really. blogging from the grave huh? So i ask my trusted friend to message her. to see if she replies. and low and behold:

I’m honestly pissed off and hurt. I called this person my friend. I grew to trust this person and share my days/stories/ideas with them. I have no idea how much is true of what she’s ever told me. I have no idea if she is a real person or another person pretending. But even if all the other stuff that I was iffy on and sent up red flags for me were somehow bizarre truths, this text is a lie. She faked her own death and I am calling her out on this. Because I won’t be friend with a person like this. And I highly suggest no one is because this is wrong and sick.

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engagedtobefree · 6 years

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Phase 2: The First Conversation

Well, it happened. Definitely not the way I had pictured it, but it happened. If you ever have an embarrassing moment, don’t you fret. Just come back to this post and I can guarantee you will feel so much better about yourself. I wrote these every day of the week, so they are my thoughts exactly for that day. I’m already tired of waiting till the weekend and writing out the whole week at once lol. I wanted to leave them as-is so they’re my true thoughts..

Monday - So i got to say both hi and bye to Scott on Monday. I know i sound like the biggest dork but hey, whatever, progress is progress. I had some anxiety all day, which I think was an aftereffect from my other job on Sunday, which was just a rough day and I ended up staying an hour and a half late. I’m also doing a coffee detox, so I’m sure that’s effecting me somehow (besides me being really fucking tired).

So first “interaction” is I have to send an email, and one of the group emails I have to CC has Scott in it. I’m pretty sure this is the first email he’s ever received from me, but it’s not directly to him. Within the hour he sends an email out that has my group email CC’d. I’m pretty sure that’s also the first email I received ever from him. I stare adoringly at his bad punctuation and grammar several times throughout the day.

Before I get ready to leave work, I always use the bathroom. When I round the corner, Scott is coming out of the men’s room. He’s chewing on his coffee stirrer as usual and he has a little smirk and says, “Hey, Dana, what’s up?” and I reply softly, “Hey, Scott”. He is looking at me and makes eye contact. I look back at him and make eye contact for a split second but I get really nervous around him sometimes, so I break it off. I cannot explain how badly I want to just have a freaking conversation with him. I honestly do feel like a freaking 12 year old girl who can’t talk to her crush. Idk wtf is wrong with me lol. I’m generally usually at ease around guys and can talk to anyone who I have an interest in. But with Scott I go back and forth between nervous/shy and incredibly confident. Like, no in between. And I’m always wondering who is going to make the first move and how we’re ever gonna get into a conversation. Like he seems super easygoing, but he seems to get nervous around me too sometimes, but I really just want him to come up and talk to me about literally anything. He could tell me he had cheerios for breakfast and guaranteed I will take that and run a fucking mile with it.

So when I leave, I put my stuff in the car and get in and start it, but because it’s sleeting outside, ice is stuck to my windows, and the windshield wipers aren’t helping. I didn’t warm my car up so I get out to scrape the ice. As I’m halfway done the back window, someone comes out of the door. It takes me a second to look up, but when I do, it’s Scott and he’s looking at me. I wave and say, “Bye, Scott.” to which he just waves back, but doesn’t say anything. I continue scraping but then look back over at him with a little smile, and he’s still watching me and moving very slowly to get in his car. When I’m done, I open my car door and glance back at his, and then get in. As I pull out, he does so only a second or two after me. He trails behind me a bit though all the way to the highway, and I wonder if he’s just driving safe or doing it because he doesn’t want to make me uncomfortable. Or maybe he’s uncomfortable. Say what?? Hi, anxiety. I begin to wonder if I freaked him out, like if he thought I was waiting till he came out or something. I genuinely had to clean the ice off of my car, and any other time his car is already started yet I still leave. But of course my mind races like crazy. I had anxiety in general all day, like sometimes it gets so bad at work that I think I’m going to get fired for absolutely no reason. I will literally just start to think that, even though I have been told several times how well I’m doing and how happy they are to have me there. I cannot even explain how hard I work at controlling my anxiety and making it better through practicing daily healthy habits, but still it persists. It makes me want to bang my head against the wall and cry sometimes.

Tuesday - So Monday I made a promise to myself to try and not run into Scott or even look at him for 2 days. I know that it can’t always be helped, but I was not going to walk past his office and I was going to leave work exactly on time, this way I wouldn’t cross paths with him. So I was also hoping I wouldn’t have to go into the warehouse at all either. But then later on Monday night, I kept thinking how I just want him to fucking talk to me already. I want to be sure i can look at him and hold eye contact and not second guess his mixed ass signals.

So Tuesday, I go over to the printer and who is just walking in but Scott. I smile big at him and say “Hey, Scott.” and add on “How are you doing?”, which we both say at pretty much the same time. I stand in my cubicle doorway and turn, but he’s already walking toward his office

So 5 -10 minutes later I go and make some tea, and in those minutes Scott apparently went to the men’s room. He walks by me with a little smirk and we sideways glance at each other. He’s so close to me and I’m glad I wore my best perfume today (Gorgeous by Victoria’s Secret).

Later in the day I take an order to the warehouse, and on the way back I glance in Scott’s office, but he’s busy looking at something. About half an hour later I take another order out, and when I come back in i take my chance and look at Scott with a little smile. He’s turned around and facing the doorway and laughing, but all 3 guys are looking at me as I walk in, not just Scott. I quickly look away and am so embarrassed. I don’t want Chris or Steve to know I’m interested in Scott, and I’m hoping they were blissfully oblivious to my intentions. I wonder if Scott was facing the door on purpose though, cuz when I first walked past their office it was quiet, and I was only in the warehouse literally 2 minutes. It’s a possibility he saw me enter. But it’s maybe only the second time I’ve seen him smile with his teeth and it was so cute.

As I leave for the day, Scott is already in his car. I just give a little wave and he waves back. I left a minute late, and I’m kicking myself for it. He must have left EXACTLY at 4:45. If yesterday I made a pact with myself to not do anything (fail) and to leave on time (fail) and then to do something (sorta succeed), today I make a pact to leave exactly on time every single day going forward. And to also walk super slow and take my good ol’ time getting in my car. Since Scott comes in last, he leaves last; Chris and Steve leave before 4:45. I need to take full advantage of Scott being the last to leave. All I freaking want is to leave and for him to be right behind me and then stop me for a conversation. I can only take these “hey, what’s up"s and giving each other the eye for so long (3 weeks, apparently - I’m not very patient lol). I am so ready to just talk to the damn guy and flirt with him and go on a date (or 2 or 3 or 4 etc if all goes well).

Oh, and I was behind him the whole time on the highway. I was in the left lane first, but then he got over in the left lane too. I tried to keep a healthy distance between us, but no car got in front of me the whole time before I had to get off my exit. I don’t know if he noticed me behind him lol.

Wednesday/Today - So in the morning I’m over at the printer again, and surprise again Scott is behind me! He says “Hey, Dana”, but is just looking around everywhere but at me. I say “Hey, Scott”, but it gets stuck in my throat and I have to cough afterwards.

This man, ugh. He literally stared me down Monday as he was leaving, but then other times he just doesn’t look at me at all. I guess I’m pretty much the same way though lol. I start to wonder if Monday maybe he was thinking about coming over and talking to me. But then my thoughts kind of shift and I start to think maybe he doesn’t have an interest in me, that I’m just some younger girl giving him attention. Heyo, look who’s about to be proven wrong.

So I’m at Joyce’s cubicle talking, and I turn around to Scott at the coffee machine. This is it, I think. Sure enough, it is. We greet each other, and this time, instead of leaving it at “what’s up?” he turns his whole body toward me, ready for a conversation. I literally could not believe it was happening. I stand nervously in my cubicle doorway, beaming from literally every pore in my body because I am so elated. I ask him how his day’s going and he tells me it’s okay, just another day. I asked “Are you guys busy?” and he says “It’s on and off, ya know, it comes in spurts.” And I say “Yeah, that’s how this whole week has been for me”. He casually says “yeah, it’s only Wednesday though” and what do I say?? WHAT DO I SAY???? I’ll tell you what I said. I said “Well, I guess that’s why they call it humpday, it’s the hump to get over in the week haha”. Of all the freaking things I could have said, that is what came out of my mouth. His expression doesn’t change, but oh wow, does the flame of embarrassment come to life in my body. As I do when I get nervous, I keep talking. So I say “Uh, what time is it anyway, 2:00?”. I turn to look at my computer, as if I can actually see the tiny time in the corner from 5 feet away, and then I spin back around. Basically, I spin in a full circle. Good job, Dana. He had been looking at me, but then looks at his watch. I think afterwards I should have complimented his watch, but I was also not close enough to really mean it lol. He says “yeah, it’s 5 of”. I say something after this, but I honestly cannot tell you what I say because at this point the fire of embarrassment inside of me is more like an inferno. I can feel my heart rate has gone way up, and I am getting clammy. I’m pretty much borderline panic attack right now lol. My brain is screaming at me. I go into my cubicle and he turns back to the coffee machine.

If you thought the fun stopped there, think again, my friend. So I go into the cubicle with the filing boxes, and this damned chair is in the way. There had been 2, and I moved the other one previously, which Scott saw. So I’m rolling this other one out and I’m right where Scott is, and I stop to let this guy Dan go by. (Completely unrelated, but Dan and I are the only vegetarians here and our names are one letter off. I find this funny. Okay, continue.) I tell Dan to go by me and I say “I moved this chair out like 2 weeks ago, and someone keeps putting it back in there”. It’s not the whole truth, but hey, Scott is smiling, and not just his normal closed-mouth smile, but showing teeth. He’s still facing the coffee machine, but oh, it makes me so happy I put a smile on his face. So this part, this was good. The next part, ughh. So, I’m going through the filing boxes, and I take a bunch down, but then I realize, there is no way I’m going to be able to stack them back up. I hurt my back over a month ago and still have not been able to heal it, despite a long period of rest. It’s back to hurting pretty bad again, and I know that I really shouldn’t lift anything too heavy. I can stack the boxes one on top of the other still, but stacking them up 4 high is definitely not realistic. When it comes time, I enter Scott’s office. Keep in mind I am still in panic mode, at least 45 minutes later (thanks, anxiety). I’m in the doorway, asking if I can have help lifting the boxes since I hurt my back. Scott and Steve are in the office, and I’m trying to look at Scott, but don’t want to make it obvious, so I have to look at Steve too. I sound awkward af and I keep pulling my lips in. Scott and Steve keep looking awkwardly at each other, like “okay, who’s gonna get up and help her”. Scott sort of starts to get up, but Steve is right next to the door, so he gets up. Scott almost sits back down, but then follows Steve.

So Steve is unclear as to which boxes he needs to be lifting and where. In his defense there are a lot of boxes, but I feel it’s pretty obvious the ones in the hallway have to be moved lol. I turn red trying to point it out to him because Scott is right there, and as Steve goes to finally pick up a box Scott goes for it too and says “Here, you need help, dude?”, just joking with him. It was only 2 boxes, so Steve moves both, but then Scott says afterwards, “You got it?” and Steve tells him to shut up. Steve says to me”If you ever need help, just ask us” and I say “Thanks. Yeah, I was able to take them down, but I couldn’t lift them back up that high.” I was disappointed I couldn’t just get Scott, and I hope he doesn’t think I was playing damsel in distress, because I honestly wasn’t. He walks in and out of his office like twice and when I look at him, he’s not looking at me but he’s smirking. I have no idea how any of our interactions came off to him.

As I leave for the day, I leave at exactly 4:45, and I walk so slowly that it disgusts me (I am high-energy on the go at pretty much all times). I pause for a few seconds before slowly pushing open the one door. Then I painfully make my way just as slowly to my car, put my bags in, and wait. Dan comes walking out, but no Scott. I close my door, and start to put my gloves on (I always do this after I’m outside for some reason). Scott then comes out as I’m putting on my second glove. I look up and say “Bye, Scott!”. All he gives me is a quick glance and a “See ya”. I feel disheartened. I read into every little thing, and he always, always, ALWAYS says my name. Even though Monday he didn’t say anything and just waved, but shit, I’d rather have that. I look at him as he’s at his car, but he doesn’t look up at all. Dan pulls out, then me, then maybe 15 seconds behind me, Scott.

So my thoughts on today are very mixed. Now with some perspective, what I said was probably not damaging enough for Scott to lose interest. at least, that’s what I’m hoping. He had a little smile on his face the whole time we talked, and he looked a little nervous too. Also, we made eye contact, which was awesome, even though there was like 8 feet in between us. I made him smile too, so bonus points. He also kept lingering at the coffee machine and was stocking it, which no one does except Joyce. He stocked it with the tea I love, since I drank it all since I’m doing my coffee detox lol. I could have restocked it myself, but meh. I’m hoping he’s not put-off by the small talk, as everyone has to start somewhere. I can only hope he found my embarrassing self cute and endearing, and not off-putting. I am also hoping that this is what has finally broke the ice. I’m hoping now that when I see him I can now initiate conversation. Here’s to hoping. Also, still hoping we cross paths outside. It would be nice if he would just ask me out so that we could get to know each other that way. It’s so hard finding something to talk about at work since we don’t have any reason to interact. I could always ask him his weekend plans or how his weekend was, but that would specifically require me to talk to him on a Monday or Friday, which is no guarantee. I’m so happy he initiated talking to me, as it means he does truly have (or had LOL) an interest in me. It also means he was ready to go beyond the “hey what’s up”s as well, which I never would have guessed, because it seemed like he was okay with staying there. I hope he surprises me some more and talks to me again. :) We shall see. I’m still someowhat embarrassed and have no idea what he thinks, but there’s always tomorrow and Friday for me to try again. And then even days after those too. Here’s to me hopefully redeeming myself.

#hot damn i wrote a shit ton of stuff #i am not 12 and i do not have a crush #i am 26 and i want a date #oh this is a wild ride but tbh it's not so bad #i still have hope #personal #scott

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sleepywinchester · 7 years

Text

Behind The Story S2 | Pt. 7

Summary: They say things never go as planned and oh were they right. When you are giving a second chance in life, you’re only just begun to live. A baby girl came to the world but it doesn’t mean their road is over yet. The story about their relationship and family while shooting Supernatural and attending Conventions continues…

Author: sleepywinchester [prev. deanwinchester-af]

Characters: Jensen, Reader, Jared and Cast Cameos.

Pairings: Single!Jensen x Actress!Reader

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: Fluff.

Disclaimer: NO HATE TOWARDS DANNEEL!

Title: Feels Like Home

A/N: I know I’ve been lacking on updates for this story and I’m really sorry. I really am. It’s just that lately I’ve been feeling a bit uninspired. I don’t know where to take this even though I do know things I want to happen. I wanna ask for a favor; send me headcanons of this story? Maybe things you want to read happening. If you’re an angst lover, please, do send me something. Anything. I want to start writing more and more but the ideas I have are only drabbles materials. That would work if you guys would like me to turn this into a drabble series. I would do that. Idk. I really need y’all’s help with this one. I don’t want to stop writing this until at least chapter 20-25. Idk. Maybe I just need love about this fic from y’all.

Masterpost

“Um… Babe?”

“Yeah?” You spoke back walking across the hall and into your room to place JJ’s bag. Once the bag was next to yours and Jensen’s, you went back into the nursery. Jensen’s tone was weird and if you didn’t knew him well enough, you’d say he was slightly scared. Getting JJ out of the crib and with Jules following your steps closely, you strolled into the living room.

Jensen sat in the larger sofa with a script on hands. You walked around the couch, the little girl in your arms watching Jules, extending her small hand towards the dog.

You cocked an eyebrow, “What’s wrong?”

“Um,” Jensen licked his lower lip, clearing his throat and adjusting himself in the seat. “Have you read the final’s script?” He hold the script on the air, his head tilted to the side.

“No…” You mumbled getting worried by his weirdness. You adjusted JJ on your hip, shifting the weight. You were planning to read the script between Saturday and Sunday, since you’re called to shoot on Tuesday. “What’s with it?”

“Of course,” he mumbled under his breath before sighing hard, scratching his scruffy cheek.

“You’re scaring me” You said noticing his nervous tick. “What’s wrong, Jay? It’s not like they can kill me off… I mean… They can,” you shrugged, “but Jeremy is too polite not to give me a heads up.”

Jensen smiled nervously, “You’re not getting killed in this ep but…” He cleared his throat, “There’s a new character in that ep, a woman character.”

“Good, it was time Sam gets laid,” you blurted out. “Did he lost his virginity yet? It’s about time.”

“It’s not for Sam,” Jensen replied.

A scowl appeared across your face, understanding what Jensen is subtly to say. “Dean is with Kat,” you replied turning to put JJ inside her playground and turned back to Jensen. “Dean’s married to Kat! They can bring a new woman into his life!”

“It’s the writers,” Jensen cringes, “they actually can…”

“What did the writers do?!” You glared at him with both hands on your hips.

“Babe─,”

“Let me see the script,” you extended a hand, still glaring at him.

Jensen hold onto it, his grip grew tighter. He knew you were a professional but he was still worried for your reaction after reading the script. Jensen took a deep breath before saying, “Remember it’s not my fault and that it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Just give me the damn script,” you said running out of patience.

He softened his grip as you grabbed the script out off his hand. Jensen observed you closely as you read through the page. Watching your eyes go from side to side as you read each line. He swallowed noticing your scowl as you kept reading down the page. He knew you were mad by the time your lips were pursed together and shoulders were tense.

“They have to be kidding,” you looked back at Jensen. “It has to be a dream or an another verse-,” your eyes went back to the script to read further. “It’s a indulged dream,” you spoke with bitterness, “great dream, Ava.”

Jensen shut his eyes with a hand on his chest, also breathing out in relief.

“When are you shooting this?” you turned to the first page.

“Monday,” Jensen replied before you.

“Mmm,” you gave Jensen his script. “Good to know.”

Jensen pinched his eyebrows for a moment, watching you grab JJ and start walking towards the bedroom. You were suddenly acting extremely calm. Jules hopped on top of the sofa next to Jensen. He caressed his dog’s fur as he watched you walk away.

“What are you gonna do?” Jensen asked.

“Nothing,” you replied without turning, “it’s just gonna be bring your girlfriend to work kind of day.”

Jensen glanced at Jules with widen eyebrows. “Yikes.”

/ / / /

After a couple hours you finally arrived to Austin with Jensen and JJ. Your mother was already waiting for you in the house. The past couple of months she’s been helping you to get the house ready and liveable. Lately you’ve said, ‘Thank you, mom. You’re the best’, more times than you can count. She’s a wonder woman in your eyes.

“Wow,” Jensen let out, his eyes traveling around the living area. “The place is looking great.”

“It is!” You said watching Jules storm into the place, sniffing it everywhere. “Is amazing what hours of online shopping and facetimes with mom can achieve.”

Jensen chuckled softly holding on to a sleepy baby girl in his arms. “She’s exhausted,” he spoke glancing at JJ. “I’ll put her to bed and help you with the bags.”

You gave him a nod and watched him walk upstairs to put JJ to sleep. Her nursery was the only bedroom completely done in this house. Everything else needed more furniture. You didn’t want to stress of having the place look like a home but deep down you were stressing about it.

It was the main reason for the four of you to staying in Austin this weekend. You wanted to make as much progress in the house as you could possibly do. That and you had a personal meeting with a wedding planner you’ve only met through emails and facetime thanks to your busy schedule.

At least the wedding was almost ready but like your house, it still needed some details to get. You were lucky Jensen was very involved with the house and wedding, always stating details he wanted to be taken in consideration. Jensen had a full project on hands, he was building from the grown a beer brewery company. He would occasionally show you pictures or pitch ideas of what he imagined his business to be. Jensen has always been very encouraging with everything you’ve put your mind into, and you did the exactly same for him.

/ / /

Night fall came to view and you were snuggled inside the bed with your laptop over your lap. You searched for the details pieces that could make this house feel like home.

Jensen walked in the room after putting JJ to sleep in the next room. He took off the white shirt he was wearing and hopped into bed with you.

“You just don’t stop, woman,” Jensen reached your side, looking at the furniture on the screen. “That table is nice.”

Your eyes glanced a the brown rustic style coffee table Jensen was pointing at. The corner of your lip lifted up. “It’s actually nice.”

“Actually nice?” Jensen cocked a brow.

“Hey, your style is good but-,”

“but you’re a control freak,” he finished your sentence with a soft chuckle.

“I want this place to be ready, Jay,” you told him, breathing softly and scrolling down the page. “This is going to be our home, I just want this place to feel like home.”

Jensen pursed his lips together, forming a thin smirk. “Y/N.” The way he spoke made you look up into his eyes. He was already staring with a soft look.

“It already feels like home.”

Let me know what you think of this chapter?

Behind The Story Tag List [ C L O S E D ]

@flawsweirdo @sis-tafics @torn-and-frayed @blacktithe7 @ruined-by-destiel @kazchester-fanfiction @xtina2191 @padackles2010 @adriellej @chickenmcsade @nokillzforu @faith-in-dean@thing-you-do-with-that-thing @supernaturalyobessed @feelmyroarrrr@latinenglishfandomblog@fandommaniacx @moonstar86 @purgatoan @capsofwinchesters @deansbaekaz2y5@danijimenezv @jayankles @fuckingpisces @mskitty416 @starswirlblitz @sam-w@doro7winchester @silver-and-green @sydneymarie101195 @smoothdogsgirl @bemyqueenofdarkness @bloodyheartsx @acreativelydifferentlove @devilgirlsarah @donnaintx @thewhisperingfox @fernandasvaldi @waywardlullabies @cascar24

#behind the story #jensen x nina #jensen x reader #jensen ackles fic #jensen fics #jensen rpf #spn fics #spn rpf

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stillgeekingout · 7 years

Text

iiiiiiit’s time for another chapter of the ultimate aaron milverton crossover fic!

this one got obnoxiously long but bear with me. also, you have to have read part 2 of shannen’s secret santa fic for rachel for parts of it to make sense.

previous: 1 here, 2 here, 3 here, 4 here, 5 here, 6 here

A week after returning to DC, Zoe Lasnammer got a phone call from a girl.

“Hello?”

“Zoe! Is that you?”

It wasn’t Hera-- they hadn’t actually exchanged numbers, and Zoe had decided not to stalk her on facebook (no sense getting a crush on a girl who lived so many states away). So she had put away the pink ladies jacket, a keepsake from an enjoyable weekend and nothing more.

“Sorry, who is this?” Zoe asked. The girl’s voice sounded familiar, but she talked to a lot of people because of work so that didn’t help to narrow anything down.

“It’s me! Violet!”

“Violet…?” She tried to rack her brain for someone she may have talked to recently.

“Violet Hunter! Remember? I saved your life from a bus?”

“Wait--the alien girl?” Zoe couldn’t believe that this girl she barely knew would actually be contacting her two years after their brief meeting.

“I told you I’d call if I was ever in DC again!” Violet sounded excited. “Anyway--”

“How did you get this number?”

“I just moved here with my wife and husband,” Violet went on as if Zoe hadn’t said anything, “and I was thinking we should get lunch or something!” Zoe vaguely remembered the girl telling her something about a proposal in the works. Must’ve worked out, she thought.

“Violet, listen, I… enjoyed meeting you but I don’t know if--”

“How about tomorrow? I’ll meet you on your lunch break. You don’t have to bring the aliens.” And with that, Violet hung up.

Zoe stared at her phone, unsure what exactly had just happened.

------

To: Aaron Milverton

Subject: Checking in

Hey bro, how’s everything going? I haven’t heard from you since the con, I want to know all the awesome stuff you and your chapter are achieving!

-Chad

The email from Chad came almost exactly one month after Aaron realized he had feelings for him. It had been a month of moving forward, of settling into his brand new Orlando B4B chapter, and most importantly, of attempting to distract himself from thoughts of Chad. He had almost started succeeding at it, too, before Chad apparently felt the urge to “check in” with him. Which meant that Chad was thinking about him. Which meant that of course Aaron would have to spend the rest of the day thinking about Chad thinking about him. All that progress, right down the drain.

It wasn’t like he had intended to cut Chad out of his life. But how was he supposed to carry on a friendship with Chad if the whole time he was thinking about how pretty (and unavailable) he was? How would he even go about starting that conversation? Hey dude, sorry I acted so weird before, it’s just that every time I see you or think about you I get all flustered and have to lie down. But it’s cool, what’s up with you? What a disaster.

Now, though, here was Chad breaking the awkward month-long silence. He had cared enough to reach out to Aaron and ask about his life. Even with romantic feelings set aside, Aaron found it reassuring that he hadn’t been imagining Chad wanting to be friends with him beyond just organizing the con. If only he could get over himself and enjoy that friendship for what it was.

He decided to text Kate. Ever since she found out that he hadn’t told her about his correspondence with Chad the first time around, she had been giving him a hard time about keeping secrets from her. Maybe she’d have advice. Either way, it’d make her feel like he was including her.

so chad emailed me

?????????

aaron you can’t just say that and not follow up with details

hellooooo

he just said he wanted to “check in” on my new chapter

idk what to say back

talk to him!!!

ok but. how.

tell him about the chapter you dork

He started typing “why, it’s not like that’ll change his mind about anything” then deleted it. Then he typed “idk if I really want to be friends with him when I’m finally starting to” and stopped again. Starting to what? Get over him? Stop thinking about him? Both of those went out the window as soon as he saw that email. His phone vibrated as he was typing his third attempt.

stop overthinking it bc I know that’s what you’re doing

Aaron smiled.

can’t help it

I know.

I think you’ll regret losing a potential friendship

but idk, if you really don’t think you can handle it maybe just break it off

that makes me sound so fragile lol

um, are you not?

shut up

stop texting me and write the damn email aaron

He sighed and tossed his phone aside.

Chad,

He watched his cursor blink on the screen for several minutes, then closed his email and opened a word document. He had seen enough movies to know never to write an “I’m not actually going to send this” email somewhere it could be sent accidentally.

Chad,

I don’t know if I’m happy to hear from you. I keep telling myself you’re just a crush and I’ll get over it soon, but it feels like more than that sometimes. I’ve had some weird dating experiences in the past… or I guess just the one. I told you a little about my ex-girlfriend (who I usually try not to think about) but what I didn’t tell you is that she was involved in my cousin’s murder, and she was basically using me to investigate him. It’s a long story, but I really liked her and it was hard to move on from that knowing that I never meant anything to her except evidence. So anyway ever since then I’ve just been extra cautious, I guess.

It’s kind of scary to like someone again, and I’m not sure if it makes it worse or better knowing ahead of time that the person in question isn’t going to want to date me. It does make me feel better that you’re not dating anyone, not just rejecting me specifically. I don’t know if I ever stood a chance with you, or if you even like guys, but I selfishly don’t want to have to imagine you with someone else.

That sounds really creepy. I’m sorry. It’s a really good thing I’m not actually going to send this.

Anyway, um, give me some time to decide if I still want to be friends. I do, logically, but we’ll see if I can stop thinking about your eyes and hair and smile and voice every time I’m reminded of you.

Time to write my normal email that I’m actually gonna send.

-Aaron

He closed word and opened his email again, feeling like he had gotten all the hard stuff out of the way.

Chad,

So good to hear from you-- thanks for following up! We’re doing really well here, we just started a beach clean-up project along with a few high schools along the coast that already have cleaning days set in place. Also, B4B is a registered club at UCF now so we’ve teamed up with them for some new initiatives…

He went on to describe everything his chapter had been doing since the con, taking care not to get too personal in case Chad really did just want to check in from a service standpoint. He finished the email with “what about you, how are things on your end? -Aaron” and sent it before he could over analyze it too much.

------

“Zoe! Hey, Zoe!”

Zoe was greeted at the steps of her job by an excitedly waving Violet Hunter. She sighed. She knew Violet’s heart was (probably) in the right place, but she didn’t overly feel like befriending this girl who was convinced that Blair and Alex were aliens (and who had stalked her to the point of finding out her phone number, the location she worked and the time of her lunch break).

“Hey, Violet,” she said. “I guess I won’t bother to ask how you found me.”

“You could,” said Violet proudly. “I did it alone, Sherlock lives here now too but she never helps me with this stuff.”

“Okay?” Zoe didn’t know who Sherlock was, and she didn’t actually want to know how Violet tracked her down.

“So, lunch?” Violet said brightly. “Sorry Eliza and John couldn’t make it, I wanted them to meet you. That’s my wife and husband.”

“Um, right. Hey, congratulations on that,” said Zoe, suddenly feeling very single next to a girl with two spouses.

“Thanks! I still wish we could’ve had Blair’s alien fountain magic for the proposal but I’m mostly just glad I didn’t have to do it.”

“There’s a sandwich place around the corner,” Zoe said, not wanting to talk about Blair with Violet.

“Great!” Violet started walking, and Zoe had to skip a little to catch up.

“So, what brings you to DC?” Zoe asked, figuring if Violet was going to insist on hanging out they might as well get to know each other.

“John and Eliza are working at the Smithsonian. And I’m sort of helping Sherlock.”

“Oh, ok.” She didn’t know where to go from there. She still didn’t know who Sherlock was.

“How are Blair and Alex?” Violet asked, narrowing her eyes. “Are you still their companion?”

“Again, I wouldn’t phrase it like that… but they’re fine.”

“And how does your family feel about you living with aliens?”

“Um, it’s just my mom. And she doesn’t know.”

“Ohhhh,” Violet said, then whispered, “Would she compromise the mission?”

“What? No,” said Zoe. “There is no mission.”

“Riiiiight,” said Violet, and winked. “Ooh, is this it? Yum.” They had reached the sandwich shop.

Zoe made small talk for the rest of lunch, but she was distracted by what Violet had said. It was a bit odd, she realized, that she had been living with Alex and Blair in DC for over two years and her mom still thought they were humans. Zoe had introduced them a couple times when her mom was visiting, but she never let them interact with her for long and she made sure Alex used the same human form every time. Her mom had a hard enough time figuring out “they” pronouns, how would she process the truth about Zoe’s godly friends?

But on the other hand, Zoe was used to telling her mom everything. This was such a big secret, one she had gotten used to keeping, but would she just continue it for the rest of her life? It was bad enough being so far away from her mom. Not being able to share every silly thing her friends said or did without heavily filtering her stories was draining after a while.

Zoe couldn’t believe it had taken a very confused (but well-meaning) conspiracy theorist stalker to make her see sense, but she resolved to tell her mom the truth while she was home for Thanksgiving. And at the end of lunch, she found herself agreeing to meet up with Violet again later that week.

------

Aaron,

Sounds fire! I’m really happy for you that you found a good group of people. We’ve been so blessed throughout this whole thing. I feel completely sure now that Blair is watching over us and that she’s proud of us. You indirectly gave me that knowledge through holding the con, and I continue to be grateful for it.

Anyway, enough about B4B, how are you? How’s Kate? How are your parents and Madison? Do they miss you?

-Chad

Aaron read the email several times. Chad continuing to thank him was silly. He owed Aaron no thanks, considering he had started everything in the first place. None of them would have been able to meet Blair, let alone know who she was, without his dedication. More than that, though, it struck him that Chad remembered not only Kate but his little sister’s name and cared enough to ask about both of them.

This time, he didn’t feel the need to write a fake response.

My family’s doing pretty well, I think. I’m going to visit for Thanksgiving so that should be good. Maybe they miss having me around but honestly Orlando is closer to Jacksonville than Doyle was. Maddie keeps saying she wants to come visit me so she can go to Disney World. I don’t think she gets that it’s not cheaper just because I live here now.

He went on to talk about his parents a little more and how he was sure they would buy Disney tickets for winter break to see the Christmas decorations even though they knew it would be miserable and crowded. Then he told Chad about Kate and her latest endeavors.

I’m really grateful to have her to talk to… it gets a little lonely here sometimes. The other members of my new chapter are really great but I don’t know them too well yet. It does make me miss my SACU group. We still talk a little and I’m always happy to hear from them but it’s just hard not to have that dynamic that I got used to over the past couple years, you know?

Chad’s response:

I know I can’t replace your school friends and I know you can still rely on Kate, but I want you to know I’m here for you too if you need someone else to talk to. I care about you, bro.

It was more than Aaron could handle. He shut his laptop and took deep breaths.

Over the next several weeks, they continued emailing back and forth. Sometimes Aaron confessed his true feelings in his secret word document, other times he texted Kate in frustration, but mostly he savored every time he saw that Chad had replied. He had tried to look at it as an opportunity for friendship, but it was futile. With every email he fell for Chad more and more.

Why did Blair have to encourage Chad’s sworn singledom? Would Chad be interested in something beyond friendly email correspondence if she hadn’t? Would that even matter, considering they didn’t live in the same place? Why couldn’t Aaron move on?

------

“Let’s go over it one more time,” said Zoe, putting her van in park in her mom’s driveway. “You guys don’t say anything until I bring it up. Then Alex will change forms, but only when I’ve said that it’s ok, and then--”

Blair sighed from the passenger seat, absentmindedly fiddling with the necklace she always wore. “Zoe, honestly, I don’t see what the big deal is. I told your mother we were gods years ago.”

“And then we’ll explain, but just the basics, and nothing about all those people you vaporized,” Zoe finished, ignoring her. “I don’t want her to think I’m living with serial killers.”

“Alex has never killed anyone, have you Alex?” Blair said, as though cutting it down to only one serial killer was helpful.

“Nope!” Alex said brightly. “Well I mean, unless you count the people in the fire…”

“No bringing up the fire either. No murders, no accidental arson, just two benevolent gods who happen to like living with a human… because she’ll believe that,” Zoe said, doubting her whole plan. “Agh, why didn’t I do this sooner? Now she’s going to know I’ve been lying to her for years.”

“It’s ok,” said Alex. “She’ll understand. And we’re here for you no matter what.”

Zoe took a deep breath, then unbuckled her seat belt. “Okay,” she said, exhaling. “Let’s do this.”

------

Hey bro, would you believe I have a layover in the JAX airport on my way to Miami for Thanksgiving? Made me think of you.Too bad I don’t have enough time to come visit, that would’ve been sweet. But dude, we’ll be in the same city for a few minutes at least. Kind of a nice thought.

-Chad

If he didn’t want to actually kill Aaron, Chad was going to have to stop being so cute. It was too much to deal with.

Chill, Aaron told himself, you’ll be in the slight geographical vicinity of each other for like, half an hour. Big whoop.

He managed to talk himself out of several hastily-concocted reasons to be at the airport on the same day as Chad’s layover; it wasn’t like he would get past TSA without a flight anyway. He attempted (unsuccessfully, for the most part) to push the email out of his mind.

Being home for Thanksgiving was a welcome distraction. Between helping his parents clean the house for guests and hanging out with his little sister, Aaron was almost busy enough to forget about his loneliness and his unrequited crush and all the other things that were bothering him. Key word: almost. He couldn’t help but occasionally remember that he and Chad would be in the same city and not be able to see each other.

On Tuesday morning, he and Madison were watching Moana on the couch when he got an email notification.

Hey dude! Hope your break is going well. Funny story, my second flight is majorly delayed so I’m stuck in Jacksonville until tonight! I don’t know how close you are to the airport or if you have stuff going on with the fam but did you want to get lunch or something? Btw, I’m realizing email probs isn’t the best for making plans- text me if you see this.

And then Chad had given Aaron his number.

The very first thing Aaron did was text Kate a screenshot of the email with many exclamation points. Then he opened a text to Chad and wrote “bro it’s aaron, omw to the airport now :)” Then he took off the smiley face, added an exclamation point, and sent it.

“Hey Maddie, I’ll be back later, okay?” he said, standing up. “I’m going to get lunch with my friend.”

“But you’re gonna miss away away!” Maddie said. “Away away” was what she called the song that the explorers sang in the flashback. Even two years after the movie had come out, she was obsessed with it. Aaron had already heard the soundtrack at least three times the day before.

“We can watch it again when I get back,” he said. “Promise.”

He told his parents he was meeting a friend from B4B who’d had an unexpected layover, then drove to the airport as fast as his law-abiding self would allow. As he was pulling into the pickup/dropoff section of the airport, his phone rang. He answered, not stopping to look who was calling.

“Hello?”

“Aaaaaaahhhhh!”

“Kate, chill,” he said. (Of course it wasn’t Chad.) “We’re going to lunch, it’s not like it’s a date.”

“I maintain my ‘aaaaahhhhh’,” Kate said. “Are you on your way to the airport?”

“Pulling in now, yeah.” He realized he hadn’t texted Chad to tell him where to go.

“Are you gonna eat there? Or are you going somewhere? Did he say anything else? Are you--”

“Kate!” Aaron cut her off. “I don’t know where we’re going. I have to tell him I’m here though, so--”

“Oh of course, I don’t want to hold you up!” But she kept talking anyway. “Aah I can’t believe he’s going to be in your car! Ok well remember every detail, I want the full story when you get home.”

“Obviously,” he said. “But nothing’s going to happen.”

“Mhmmmmm,” Kate said. “Ok, love you.”

“You too. Bye,” he said, and hung up.

Aaron texted Chad to tell him that he was outside and what his car looked like. Then he sat and waited nervously. Since the last time he had seen Chad, his feelings had only grown stronger. It was one thing to reply to emails where he could take time to compose a response. It would be quite another thing to carry on a conversation with Chad in person, something he had failed at every time he had attempted it so far. Not to mention they would be alone in his car.

Just then, he spotted Chad walking towards his car. He was exactly as gorgeous as Aaron remembered, even after being on a plane for several hours.

Be normal, he thought. You guys are friends. He doesn’t have to know about the rest of it.

He got out of the car to help Chad with his luggage, then wished he hadn’t because he felt silly. Not knowing what else to do then, he waved. “Hey, Chad!”

Chad caught sight of him, and his face lit up. “Aaron!” He rushed over to the car, setting down his bags and giving Aaron a standard one-arm frat boy hug, which Aaron tried not to make weird.

“Hey,” Aaron said. “Good to see you, man.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. As they got in the car, Aaron was glad that he was driving so it would be easy to resist looking at Chad too much. He didn’t know what he would do once they got to lunch.

“So, there’s a Chick-Fil-A we could go to, I don’t know what you’re in the mood for,” he said.

“Oh, um, actually I’m a vegetarian now,” said Chad. Of course he was.

“All right… Denny’s?”

“Fire,” said Chad. They drove in silence, which was awkward, but Aaron didn’t know what to say.

They had been seated at the restaurant and still hadn’t said anything. Aaron was wracking his brain for any conversation starter, but Chad talked first.

“Denny’s reminds me of college,” he said. “We had one on campus and we used to go there when we got hungry at 2 AM.”

“Same,” said Aaron. “I guess it’s a staple of the American university system.”

“True that,” said Chad, and the ice was broken. They went on talking throughout the meal as if nothing was strange between them. Aaron tried to enjoy it while he could, and also spent a lot of time looking down at his plate so as not to accidentally stare at Chad’s smile or his eyes. He kept repeating to himself that he and Chad were friends, that Chad wasn’t interested in him romantically, and that it didn’t matter either way because Chad had sworn off dating. He didn’t want to delude himself into thinking that his feelings could be reciprocated. Was an unrequited crush that you knew was doomed from the start better than uncertainty?

“Not to make light of your inconvenience, but I’m really glad you had that delay,” Aaron said when they had finished eating and were waiting on the check. “I’m glad we got to hang out.”

“Me too, bro,” said Chad, and he reached out and put his hand over Aaron’s, which was resting on the table. Aaron suppressed a nervous laugh, willing himself not to meet Chad’s eyes. He couldn’t help it-- he felt a little glimmer of hope bubbling up in the back of his brain.

“Chad…” he started to say, but the waiter showed up with their checks and Chad moved his hand away. Aaron would have left his hand under Chad’s for another hour if he could have. Pathetic.

Chad cleared his throat and blinked several times as if nothing had happened. Aaron hastily changed the subject. They left Denny’s and started heading back to the airport, Aaron wishing for something to fall in the middle of the road and stop them from getting there. He wanted to pass the airport and keep driving all the way up into Georgia and beyond. He never wanted to let Chad leave his car. Who knew when the next time they would see each other would be? But alas, they reached the airport with no problems.

They sat in the parked car for a few long moments. “It’s been really nice seeing you, dude,” Chad finally said.

“Yeah,” said Aaron, looking over at Chad and accidentally meeting his eyes. He thought he felt something shift in that moment, like there was some kind of possibility that maybe his bubble of hope hadn’t been completely unfounded. He leaned towards Chad an infinitesimal amount, and he couldn’t be sure, but he thought that Chad did the same. They stayed that way for another long moment before Chad suddenly cleared his throat again and jerked away.

“Uh, I need to go,” he said. “I don’t want to miss my flight.” He started to get out of the car and reach for his luggage in the backseat.

“Right, right of course,” Aaron said. As Chad said goodbye and walked away, Aaron felt all of his brief optimism leaving with him. Well, he would have a lot to tell Kate.

#I have Fully Accepted the violet stuff into my canon for this fic #this took so long to finish lol but I'm very excited about the next chapter #which won't be for another month so don't hold your breath or whatever #tajwash #blairgp #mine

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