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sasa-gay-yo · 3 years

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Just Us (Chapter Seven: Calculating)

← Chapter Six

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“So… um, it’s the Spring Equinox and all. We usually do something. You know, you, me, some friends; like we always do. Are you… are you going to come this year?” I turned to Jonas who was leaning on a box of flour. How could he so easily forget moments like that? He confessed to me and then the next day seemed to completely forget. Months later when it seemed he had an in, he didn’t even go for it. Talk about being uncompetitive.

“Will there be as much drinking as there was last year?” It was monotone and I glanced over to the corner spot. Garrison. Last year, the girl Jonas was interested in and I had to drag back him and his three friends from outside Wall Sina and they slept on the floor of the bakery while I offered her my couch. During the process of wrestling them inside, Jonas had somehow stripped naked and his friends were trying to follow suit. I try to keep that memory suppressed.

“Probably yeah. You know the spring wine is the best… but you’re still kinda sic-” I nodded and help up my hand to stop his excuses.

“You’ll probably have to drag me home this year. I’m in.” He smiled, but it was bittersweet, knowing I wasn’t going to hang out with everyone and socialize. I’d probably just sit under a tree and drink my sorrows away.

“Eva, you-” The sounds of horses outside broke him from his sentence. Some people went out and others just turned back to their food. The Scouts were slowly dwindling in number as they were waiting for the new recruits to come in from training. No one was enthused that they were coming in and out and those who would go and watch them come back were sadists. I turned my back and went to busy myself with some invisible work at the back table.

“You know, if he did something to you to-” I grasped the table. He says this almost every time they march outside of my café.

“If who did something, Jonas?” He felt the venom in my tone and decided not to push forward. I coughed for what felt like the hundredth time and it broke the tension.

“So, uh, next week. I’ll come to get you when we leave. Should be after five. We’ll all get dinner and take it out.” He took the money off the counter and went out of the store, probably to go glare at the Scouts who were walking by.

If he didn’t come this Saturday that marks three months. It also marks the point where I get the message and I’ll forget about him all together. I had forgiven him the first month. He didn’t know how to deal with emotions so he needed some time and maybe needed to kill some titans. The second month came, and an extended break for weather conditions, but yet he didn’t come anywhere near Trost. I even went through one cold and caught another one just waiting for his ass. I wanted him to reject me already so I wasn’t getting let down on the daily.

Here comes my surprise when Saturday one rolls around, I’m still coughing and sneezing, and he’s nowhere to be seen. Even the old ladies stopped coming. I guess they were more wiser on when to give up.

Damn. That was something I never thought I’d hear myself say. Giving up hope. Even he said that he’s afraid I’d give up hope because of him. Well, here we seem to be.

I shouldn’t let a shorty who doesn’t know how to process emotion take away my hope.

The bells rang above the door and two nightshift Garrison members walked in. My least favorite people, always coming 30 minutes before closing asking me to serve them fresh coffee to keep them awake. They never failed to make my mood worse and this oncoming headache wasn’t going to go away with their shouts. Last month, I had to kick out a few of them because they were talking so nastily about the Scouts. I couldn't bear it and neither could my head. I still had hope in the Scouts as a whole, especially hearing they were getting new recruits, and one person wasn’t going to ruin that. Hopefully, the fresh meat would propel them like it did last year. Hm, maybe fresh meat was not a good way to describe the cadets.

The bell above the door rang again and I looked up to be face to face with the Wings of Freedom. At least one Scout was using their day off, a tall one at that. A contrast to shorty. She had rectangular glasses strapped to her face and auburn hair in a ponytail. She came in smiling crazily too. A big contrast.

“Are you Eva with the peppermint tea?” I had to do a double take and even blinked a few times before answering her. I sneezed again before answering.

“Um, yes. I think that would be me. Who’s asking?” She sharply reached out her hand and I shook it. Ouch, she had a hard grip.

“I’m Hange Zoë, a squad leader for the Scouts Regiment. I’m here to escort you to the Scout HQ. Do you have the peppermint tea?” I blinked again, not moving. She wanted to take me where? The last place I wanted to go, that’s where.

“Am… Am I in trouble?” She laughed out loud, not caring if anyone looked at her. Yeah, she really wasn’t at all like the Scouts I meet on a daily basis.

“No, no. Not at all. In fact, I almost have no idea why I’m taking you there. Well, a little bit more of an idea than you have. Personally,” she leaned in and whispered behind her hand, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you since I saw you at the festival, but shorty wouldn’t crack.” It wasn’t a whisper and I’m sure if anyone was at the first few tables, they would have heard it.

“A-and if I don’t come with you?” She shrugged and crossed her arms.

“I’ll drug you and drag you myself.” I stepped back from the counter and she roared with laughter, “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Do I look like someone who would do that? Well, maybe... but If you don’t come, I’ll have to deal with an even more upset Captain and I don’t want to do that!” Captain? He ordered her here?

“Did the Captain send you to get me?” She pushed her glasses up and leaned one arm on the counter.

“I guess I should’ve led with that. Levi said, ‘Eva with the peppermint tea,’” she imitated his voice and facial expression, “I had to go to three coffee shops in Trost to find an Eva. Two streets down is a Freud and about a half mile behind you in a cute old couple. I didn’t think the Captain would want them that badly. So when I walked in and remembered seeing Captain talk to you at the festival, I knew I hit the jackpot.” She snapped at the end making a point to her adventure to find me. The Garrison members were now staring at her, too. They probably knew about her better than I did.

“Why does he want me to come to HQ?” She shrugged again, but this time without a death threat after.

“I don’t know, but shorty is very adamant about it. I told him I was busy for a whole month, thinking it was a fever dream, but that made him even madder. Anyways, I was hoping you’d come and bring the tea and a...” she looked down at ink on her hand, “ a tea set. Captain Levi broke his on the first day of the year. How unlucky is that?” He was adamant that I come? That’s stupid. How adamant can he be when he’s had three months to do it. He probably just wanted to make it easy for someone to drag me away from him when he rejected me. Either way, I was intrigued.

The Garrison members groaned when I shoved them out the door to lock up a few minutes early.

I shouldn’t have gone really, but I had no excuse. Maybe I just wanted him to reject me like I said and then have a sad ride back to the café. However, Hange coming in and saying all those things made me much more concerned about his mental wellbeing than what he was going to say to crush me. And if he was making me come all the way there, was he going to give me bad news? I don’t think he’d be that mean, but I have never faced the real Captain Levi before.

Hange had given me another cape, and some tissues for my nose, saying that it would be easy to have me come in unnoticed because the new cadets had just showed up. She just hoped I didn’t get caught sneaking around by Erwin and thrown into combat training. This woman was saying stuff that was making me scared the whole ride there. I was on a horse too, so that made my anxiety worse.

The Scout HQ was a huge ass castle and I didn’t think it would look at all like this. The barracks in the capital were just a big square building with some pillars. This place was gigantic. Hange made it a point to name every section of the castle so I somehow knew right away where I was going. I was going to the Officer’s Wings.

“It’s a shame though. We’re leaving this place soon for a new one the government issued. It’s not as nice, but it’s smaller because they don’t think we need such a big place… Well, it’s true, but… they didn’t have to say it like that, you know! I’ll have to move my whole lab!”

The hallways were also tall on the inside. It was an actual abandoned castle. I wondered who had lived in here before the government got ahold of it. She even stopped by to show me the throne room that they had converted into the mess hall. It’s like I was on a field trip, but at the end of it was the school leader’s office. Why was I being summoned by him? Was he not good enough to come to the civilian’s café anymore? Annoying prick.

“Here is Captain Levi’s quarters. We just transferred him back today, but he’s still a bit sore from not moving around much. I hope that once he gets his peppermint tea that he’s moaning about, he won’t be so rude to everyone anymore.” I balanced the tea set and bag of tea in my hands as she opened the door for me.

“Transferred?” She waved her hand like it was nothing as shut the door on me. It was like she threw me into the wolves. She didn’t even want to be. I didn’t know she was just going to leave me like that because my nerves just skyrocketed.

His office was like he described. Half the size of the capital, but still with big windows in the back. This time, they were turned to the way of the sun. There was a single, full bookshelf against the wall on the left with another chair in front. This time the chair didn’t seem as uncomfortable as the ones in the capital. He wasn’t sitting at his desk where I thought he’d be. As soon as I saw the crack in the door and dim light peaking through, I knew he was in his bedroom. Why?

We just transferred him back today. Well where had he been?

I decided to sneak up to the little cut out in the wall which held a singular hot plate. If I could make tea, I could prolong the time I didn’t have to talk to him. Why did I even come here in the first place? It’s not like I like this guy anymore or would bend over at his will. Just a rejection, yeah, that’s what I came for.

Taking a single, short step, I tested the floors, hoping they didn’t squeak. Once I was in the clear, I slowly started to tiptoe towards the opening. If I went fast near his door, he wouldn’t even see it.

Achoo!

I held the tea set, but it rattled mercilessly in the box. Oh fu-

“Hange?!” Oh, yeah, he was definitely in the bedroom. Now, I’d just stand here with my eyes closed and hope I didn’t look too bad when he opened the door.

Who am I kidding, I literally hopped on a horse to get here on a whim. I’m bending so far over for this man it’s ridiculous.

“Hange, I told you it was the sixth café down off of the turn we make on the main drag. It’s hard to,” there was a wheeze, “h-hard to miss.” I stood there for a while, but he didn’t come out or open the door. In fact, there was no movement coming from his room at all.

“Hello?!” It was harsh and was followed by another sharp intake of air. It dawned on me then. Transferred. Was he injured?!

“Um, hello?” I finally answered and looked again to see if he would open the door now. Still no movement and now no answer. Maybe Hange messed up and he didn’t want me he-

“Did you bring the tea?” I was not expecting that. His voice was instantly softer than before and after months of not hearing it, it made me melt.

“Oh, um, uh, yes, yes I did. And the set, and the set.” I coughed into my arm, masking my cold. If he knew I was sick, he might send me back just because of germs.

“C-come in. M-My room. I already have hot water...” Come in? To his room? His bedroom? Where he’s laying? He hasn’t even come into my bedroom before.

“Um, are you sure you want me in there?” There was a loud groan, probably so I could hear his annoyance too.

“Just get in here, brat.” There was something about him calling me that that made me annoyed and walk slowly into his room. Was it the urge to bicker again?

I opened the door and peaked in, instantly locking eyes with him. I screamed at my heart because just like the first day, it started beating fast again. Shut up. He’s going to reject you then you’re going to go back home and put the tarts in the oven to prebake.

He looked pitiful. There were bandages wrapped all the way around his torso and he was shirtless, but it didn’t look like it. His head had one bandage around it too, but that one seemed pretty useless. More of a headband if anything. It had also been a while since he’s bathed, marked by the incomplete stubble scattered around his mouth and chin. He just laid there, blanket up to his waistband, staring at me. What had happened and for how long was he like this?

My anger and inhibition to come inside subsided and I set the tea set down on the floor. There was no chair for me to sit on, so I just stood. We stared at each other for what seemed like eternity, my heart still beating out of my chest. He was the first one to break the silence.

“C-Can you make me tea?” It almost came out like a whine coupled with his lack of breath. I crouched down and took the tea set out, looking at the makeshift water kettle he had on his nightside table. This bedroom was so small; there was no room for a desk. His bed was up against the wall only leaving a few feet towards the door and enough room for a dresser and walking space at his feet. No windows.

“You can,” he caught his breath and was silence for a few moments before continuing, “You can sit here, Eva.” He tapped the space next to him on his bed. I was hesitant at first, but the way he said Eva made me almost forget all his wrong doings. How badly did I want to see him again that I was acting like this? So weak for a single man. I sat down on the bed, back to him, trying to ignore his heated stare.

It was the same feeling the night I kissed him. I made him tea, he stared at me from behind, but I couldn’t get close to him this time. That was going to be the difference. I wouldn’t let myself have such a weak will like last time. Go in, make the tea, get out.

“What did you do?” Goddamnit Eva. You weren’t supposed to make conversation like this.

“A newer cadet ran into me while I was trying to finish off an abnormal titan. The titan got a hold of me and squeezed pretty hard before I cut it’s fingers off. The cadet gave me the concussion, and the titan fractured most of my ribs. This was the beginning of February.” Of course he gave me a date. If I went back to that time, I said I was going to let it slide, too. I had given him January off and if he got hurt in February that means even if he wanted to come to the café, maybe he couldn’t… No, Eva, if he wanted to he’d send Hange earlier.

I told him I was busy for a whole month, thinking it was a fever dream.

“Oh,” I went back to work, taking out the set he left when he stormed out of the café and the new peppermint tea he has yet to drink. No one but him comes in to drink mint tea. Usually it’s just green or black, so the stock I buy is just for him. Imagine me staring at the tea leaves sitting under the counter for hours next to the tea set box willing him to walk into the café. If he wasn’t going to come back, maybe I should just give it to him so he doesn’t force me here again.

“I’m almost healed completely. There’s just one rib that’s bothering me enough to not be able to go back in the field.” It was interesting to hear him talk so much, even when injured. Our roles had reversed. Maybe he felt pressured to talk more than usual. I hope guilt was pushing him.

“That’s good.” I just sat there, watching the tea leaves swirl in the water, and hoping I’d had enough strength to turn back away from him when I gave him his cup.

“What have you been d-doing?”

“The usual.” I picked at my skirt, noticing it was the one I’d worn the last time I’d seen him. When only owning about five, there were heavy odds that would happen. Sadly, this meant the odds were stacked against me. I only won a few bits of luck back when I was, in fact, able to turn back around when I gave him his tea. I didn’t even look in his eyes either.

“Can you help me into the bathroom?” He set the empty tea cup down next to me, making it so I didn’t have to turn around to put it on his nightstand. If I helped him, I’d have to look at him though. This was apart of some plan.

“I could get Hang-” He grabbed my wrist with a bit of force and used his strength to turn me. I also fell on top of him with how hard he whipped me around. This was the first time he had put his hands on me like that.

“Why can’t you even look at me?!” I was breathing hard, but still looking at the blankets on the bed. His hand was bandaged too. We’d traded places in that aspect. I wasn’t going to tell him, but the balm he gave me helped. HE didn’t deserve that information when he was acting like this.

I stood up, taking my knees off the bed, and pulled the blanket off of him. I made sure to fold this so he had nothing to yell at me about again. He got himself parallel to me and needed help to sit up. The was probably going to be the most painful part. You were helping someone who was in pain, there was nothing else to it. I was being a nurse to him since no one else was around to do so.

Reaching for his back, I carefully helped lift him up to a seated position. The amount of curse words that came out of his mouth made my heart squeeze at the pain I was putting him through. It was just pity; you were sad for the man who was hurt. That’s it. I shifted my position to sitting next to him and silently gasped when he put his arm around me and grabbed my opposite shoulder. Minus the time I had kissed him, this was the closest we’d ever been. My mind couldn’t help but take a delight in that.

When we stood, there were a lot less curse words, but they were still there. My gaze was directed at the floor as we walked out and directly to the right into the small bathroom. They really paid no expense to give the Scouts nothing. This was an officer’s quarters too, which meant that he had one of the best lodgings. I bet it was bunk beds and communal showers outside of this wing.

I let go of him and got behind him near the door. I had no idea what he was going to do here, but I knew I’d leave as soon as he started. Would I leave completely now that I’d given him tea? It seemed rude to someone who was in his state. What if he falls or hurts himself again? This wing was so far removed from the others. My weak will triumphs again.

“Can you take off the bandages? There’s scissors on the sink.” How much was he going to torture me before I leave? He’s hurt, just do it, Eva.

I picked up the scissors and walked over to his back, trying to be gentle so I didn’t cut the skin off of him. I put one hand on his upper back and worked from the bottom-up, cutting away at the thick, white bandages holding his ribs in place.

The speed of our breathing matched when I touched his bare skin. Was he breathing hard because of the decreased pressure? I raised one eyebrow, maybe taking that as a selfish clue, and took away the last bandage. They fell on the floor and allowed me to take in his shirtless back. There were bruises that were healing and a few minor cuts, but most importantly it seemed to be all lean, muscle. He wouldn’t care or notice if I was staring, so I took it as payback. Sweet, muscular, gorgeous pay back. If he turned he would have seen my blush.

Yeah, good luck Eva, the feelings aren’t gone.

“I’m going to shower. You can, um, there’s books? I think Hange left something to eat a few hours ago, too. Eat that...if you want.” That was his way of telling me he didn’t want me to leave.

“Okay,” I finished shortly and turned back around, closing the bathroom door. When the water went on, I took a long breath and sunk down against the door. I put a hand to my face and lightly slapped it to wake me up. My face had to be at least five shades redder after that encounter. Was he going to make me put bandages back on him? Would I get to see his front on full display? I slapped my face again and frowned at myself. He wasn’t the only shirtless man you’ve seen, quit acting like this.

I stood up and looked around at his office. There were papers scattered all over his desk, nothing seemed to be in it’s right place, and I could see a layer of dust collecting on the shelves to the right of his desk. It’s not because me cleaning would make him happy, but it’s because I had taken an interest in looking around his office. It would be a disservice to the place if I didn’t look at it in the way he intended.

Starting with the desk, I just pushed papers together and stacked them in neat piles on his desk. It was easy to find a spot because there was absolutely nothing on his desk besides a name plaque, a cup to hold pens, and a stamp that seemed to be his official marking for papers. His office was as bare as the one in the capital. I found a cloth by the burner and used that to wipe down the shelves that were equally as empty. A rusted knife, a small stack of Wings of Freedom cloth emblems, and a cracked, white teacup. I wonder what these things meant to him if he put them over here on display.

I wiped off his desk too and opened the curtains that blocked the sunlight from the windows. His office viewed the training ground as I saw cadets practicing hand-to-hand combat in full uniform. When I finished dusting everything, I sat down in his chair, taking in the full view of his office. If I had a room like this, I’d fill it with something and not leave it so empty. I bet it even echoed.

“Echo… echo,” I confirmed my suspicion. When we talked about remodeling the Scouts HQ, his office had never come into the conversation when it severely needed to.

The water shut off and my gaze snapped to the door of the bathroom. He takes quick showers for someone who was slightly incapacitated. I wonder how long they took him when he was back to normal. Showers should be savored, not rushed; that was my opinion.

The door opened and I just turned the random book of his desk open to pretend I was reading. It was something about the history of Scout maneuvers but I couldn’t understand a thing. He had to know I was lying to him.

“You cleaned?” I glanced quickly up at him and looked back down at the book. Oh gods. He was smiling. Not a smirk or a smile after he insulted me; a heartwarming, genuine smile. Another one worth ten points at least. I wanted to look back up at him. If he smiled like that again, this whole emotionless façade of mine was going to break easily.

He walked over to the small foot rest that was in front of his desk and sat down slowly to face me. I just kept staring at the pictures in the book finally discovering that the Os were Scouts and the Xs were titans.

“Interesting book?” I turned the page and nodded, lying to him. This page didn’t have a picture so I’d have to pretend to be interested in the words.

“Can you even understand what that’s saying?” I’d been caught. I acted like I had finished the page before closing the book and setting it aside. This time, I felt like I was at an appropriate distance to look at him. That was a mistake because he was still smiling at me and I felt my insides melt. He was doing it on purpose. The defensive strategy that I made while he was shower disappeared too.

“No,” I answered truthfully and took in his form. He had put the bandages on himself, thank gods, and was sitting completely straight so as to not hurt his ribs. His face was smooth again, but his hair had grown almost past the tip of his nose. Even like this, he looked so handsome. I leaned back in the chair and started twiddling my thumbs, looking down at them.

“You cut your hair?” He was observant. I coughed before answering.

“I do at the beginning of every year.”

“Are you sick?” His voice was filled with concern and not the tone of ‘If you say yes, I’ll kick you out’.

“A cold.”

“So you haven’t been taking care of yourself.” There was no tea to sip in place of answering his statement. Those words brought back a bit of anger though. The effects of his smile didn’t last long.

“If you cared, why didn’t you come back then?” He sighed and rested one leg over the other like he always does.

“I was sca-”

“Don’t say you were scared. You’ve used that excuse before. Find something original.” It was a lot easier to yell at him when I wasn’t looking at him.

“I didn’t know how to respond.” I clenched my fists. I knew that when I kissed him, but it still made me mad. He was a grown man.

“Usually when someone kisses you, you have two options. Respond back or tell them you don’t want that. You don’t run away from them.” He groaned which made my anger even worse. He didn’t know how to respond to anything I was saying and that made him frustrated too.

“C-Can you come sit next to me?” I looked up at him for the first time, my eyes hardening with emotion.

“No, I won’t.” I didn’t dare get close to him again.

“Eva,” he pleaded and I shook my head again.

“I’m not playing this game anymore, Levi. I’m not going to play pretend with you and ignore the reality of things.” He stood up again slowly.

“Look at this. At me. This is reality. I almost died out on the field because I was thinking about you and not the titans! I called you here to show you that because I don’t think you know how bad things can get.” I raised an eyebrow at him and crossed my arms.

“Are you saying I’m a distraction?” He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration again. No, sir, I was the one who could be frustrated.

“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I almost died because of one small slip up. Who knows what could happen on the next expedition? You don’t know what it’s like to be outside of the walls or to see people die to the left and right of you! I’m always next.” I glared at him.

“Maybe if we didn’t spend so much time in our pretend little world, you could’ve told me so I understand. Maybe you’d know about my life in the Underground and how you’re completely wrong about me not knowing how bad things can get. You’re the one who did this to yourself!” I hit his desk with my fist and stood up to match him. I wasn’t going to back down. His face went blank again, back into the calculating Captain Levi, not the one who seemed to blurt out things when the emotion came too much for him to know how to deal with it.

“I don’t… ”

“You’re afraid of yourself. If you let yourself really do what you want, it’ll break the little pretend world you’ve made. The one where you’re emotionless and in control of every part of yourself and the people below you. You can’t push away reality and keep playing pretend with me.” He gripped his fist.

“I’m not playing pretend.”

“Then who are you when you’re sitting on my couch?”

“Levi.”

“Levi or Captain Levi?” He shook his head like it didn’t matter the difference.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“They’re two different people. Right now, you’re being Captain Levi. You’re calculating down to your next syllable and not letting yourself say what you want. When you’re Levi, you talk freely and smile and laugh. That’s why we never talk about your life or the Scouts, because you feel you can never talk freely around me about those things. You don’t need to protect me.” He looked down at the floor again, calculating what to say next. It was so frustrating that he couldn’t just speak like he was previously. He always had to be in control.

“Scouts die everyday. There’s no guarantee that I’ll come back. And when I’m back, there’s no guarantee that I can come and see you. I have paperwork and training and duties I have to humanity first. I will always be Captain Levi before I am Levi… since you see a difference in the two.” That changed the pace I was going at. I was going to continue to yell at him, but those last works…

“I’m not going to hold myself back because I’m afraid of what could happen. I recognize there are things I can and can’t control and I live with it. No one can live like that. You would never be a Scout if you lived like that. You would never be a Captain if you hesitated on every move or order you made. Right now, you’re eating yourself up inside because you want to control everything and can’t admit it to yourself that you can’t!” I squeezed my eyes shut, not caring if my words hurt him in any way. It was the truth.

“What will you do when I die?” My eyes shot open and locked with his. That emotion was there again. The sliver of something I could never put my finger on. The soft tone of his voice matched it. When?

“I believe in you enough to know that day will never come.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer and it made him lean forward, grasping the edge of the desk hard enough to make his fingers white. He was only a few inches away from me, but my anger clouded over the want to lean in and taste him again. Did he taste like tea?

“I’ll ask you one more time. What will you do when I die?” I shook my head at him, denying his death, and this time he hit the desk with his injured fist, “Why do you have so much blind faith in people? In me?”

“I was given a second chance at life because an old man had faith in a little Underground girl with burned hands. I believe everyone should be given the same. You haven’t done anything for me to lose faith in you. I don’t go out to see you off on expeditions because I know I’ll see you when you get back.” He seemed to almost collapse down in one big breath, his head between his straight arms, hands still gripping the edge of the desk.

The air in his office was tense. No one had probably ever talked to him like I had just did and my words probably matched the internal dialogue he’s had with himself. He knows that I’m right and that he’ll break down on the inside if he keeps trying to strive for total control.

I stood there looking at the back of his head, waiting for him to speak up. His hands kept clenching and unclenching the edge of the desk like he was thinking everything over again. The fact that he couldn’t control the his emotions in this situation, no matter how hard he tried, was probably beating him to death on the inside. Was he sad because once he rejected me, he’d lose the pretend world where he can relax and there isn’t a need to strive for control? Was he angry at me for speaking to him like that?

“I think I have feelings for you. I’m just apprehensive.” My eyes widened and I looked down at him, still crouched over at the other end of the desk. That wasn’t the emotion I thought he was experiencing. My heart was beating so hard he could probably hear it too. He just… I didn’t expect this to be the outcome of the night.

“What will you do when I die? Just answer the question.” This was his apprehension. He’s had to move on constantly from people who’ve died, outside the wall or under it. He’s strong, but he didn’t know how strong I could be. I’ve watched people die too. I’ve had to say goodbye countless times. I had to make sure he knew I could deal with pain and hurt as well, and not just my own.

“I’ll give you a nice funeral, wait a year, then move on to Commander Erwin.” The tension broke and he let out a huff of air in laughter before standing up. His eyes were back to normal, but this time a lot softer than when he was walking down the street. It wasn’t indifference, it was just from being relaxed.

“I can’t abandon my duty as a Captain. If I have work to do, that comes first.”

“Understandable.”

“It might be months on end where you won’t be able to see me.”

“I guess I’ll just have to get a mistress.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. The orange light from the sun setting behind us made it so I couldn’t stop staring at him now.

“I’m being serious here, Eva.” I sat back down in his chair, crisscrossed, still struck with his face.

“So am I, Levi.”

“I require monogamy.” I think that was him trying to make a joke so I indulged.

“I guess I can live with that. The bakery keeps me busy enough. If I have orders to fill out, that comes first.” I mimicked him and a small smirk crept up onto his face. That’s how I knew he was completely back.

“Understandable, but slightly saddening you put baked goods above me.” There was a knock at the door. He rolled his eyes and went over to answer it. I made sure I was out of sight of the door.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing disturbing my sleep, cadet? Can’t you see my state? I should make you clean the stables for waking me up.” I could hear the nervousness in the cadet’s voice when he answered.

“I-I-I’m so… sorry, Captain! I didn’t know you were sleeping! Squad leader Zoë told me to bring you this!” There seemed to be an exchange of plates and the cadet was still shaking as Levi turned back into the room/

“Dismissed. Don’t come knocking this late again.” He kicked the door closed in front of the cadet saluting him and walked to the desk with two plates of food.

“I see now where the mean rumors come from. He was just delivering food.” He set the place down in front of me, ignoring my comment.

“Not Erwin.” He pulled the ottoman over so he could eat at his desk too. I smiled spooning some curry.

“Why not? I’m trying to climb the ranks.” He shook his head again.

“If you think I’m too calculated, then you’d hate him. That book you were pretending to read, he’s probably gone through that six or seven times. He stays up till dawn thinking about where a single person should ride in our formation to maximize titan spotting. He’ll have no time for you.” I pulled a face and he lightly laughed. Actually laughed.

“I guess I’m just stuck with you, Captain.”

Chapter Eight →

Chapter Masterlist

xx Now, we’ll start getting into actually AOT plot. Did you all watch the new ep today? Only got to see a part of our King’s face :(

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x oc #levi x reader #levi x oc #aot levi #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin levi #captain levi #levi heichou #levi headcanons #original character

88 notes · View notes

nevernotwriting · 3 years

Text

You, Me, and Yancy | Chapter 14: Black Tie Required

Read me on AO3!

Previous chapter

The next morning, you woke up early to the sound of effortful noises coming from your living room. You peeked your head around the corner, pleasantly surprised by what you saw.

Yancy was doing push-ups, his face concentrated on the rug below him with a single loose strand of hair dangling in front of his forehead. For the first time since last night, you were hit with the realisation that this was actually real. He was free, and he was here with you.

Yancy must have been thinking along the same lines; he startled when he looked up and saw you leaning against the doorway. He got to his feet and let out a small laugh.

“Sorry, force o’ habit in the mornings.”

“No need to apologise, I was enjoying the show.”

You could hardly believe the words that just came out of your mouth. Where the hell did that come from? You were mentally kicking yourself when Yancy broke out into a grin, glancing at the floor and sweeping his hair back into place with one hand.

“Nice to know I’m appreciated.”

You laughed with him, skipping back to your room to get ready for the day. You knew it was going to be a long and eventful one; hopefully, Yancy would help you get your job back, and be allowed to join the heist team. You grimaced as you imagined Mark’s reaction, but scoffed at yourself as you stepped into your jeans.

He left you in prison, who cares what he thinks?

Your heart tugged, knowing it wasn’t as simple as that, but you pushed past the feeling and grabbed a shirt and a jacket. You made a mental note to take Yancy to the store later so he could get some kit of his own.

A soft beeping noise from the kitchen made your ears perk up.

“Uh… Zero?”

You made your way down the hall. “Yeah?”

As you entered the kitchen, Yancy turned to you with a panicked look on his face.

“I think I broke youses coffee machine.”

“Nah,” you laughed, turning the machine off at the socket. “It does that all the time, don’t worry about it. It’s kinda busted. We can get some coffee at HQ instead, it’s pretty good there. And later we can go and get you some more clothes, if you want?”

Yancy didn’t seem to be listening to you. His gaze clouded over as if he were staring at something a thousand miles away.

“Yancy? You okay?”

He shook himself out of his daydream with a soft frown. “Yeah, I uh… sorry. Just… it’s been a while, since I’ve been…” He gestured to your surroundings. “Anywhere but a prison cell. I gots to admit, it’s startin’ to sink in and… I’m a little nervous.”

You put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry. You’re gonna do great. And if it makes you feel any better, you’re technically still gonna be surrounded by criminals when we get to HQ.”

Yancy laughed. “True enough.”

“Besides, I’ll protect you,” you joked.

Yancy looked you up and down with a raised eyebrow, sending a stir through your body. “Yous is a lot tougher than you look, I’ll give you that.”

“Uh… thanks, I think?”

Yancy chuckled, placing a hand over yours with a gentle squeeze. “Yous gotta learn to take a compliment.”

He moved past you. You stayed frozen in your spot, his words springing a not-so-distant memory to the forefront of your mind, one filled with rooftops and sunrises.

“Awh come on Zero, just take the compliment.”

You grumbled, stomping to the front door and grabbing some shoes. Yancy re-emerged moments later, looking slightly less nervous as he stood tall and puffed out his chest.

“Ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s go, Z.”

Yancy stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide as he realised what he’d said. You merely chuckled, unlocking the front door.

“Not heard thatone before.”

You stood at the entrance to HQ, taking a deep breath in. There was only a set of double doors and a few footsteps separating you from whatever was coming next. Yancy grabbed your hand and squeezed it.

“C’mon, yous got this.”

With one last grateful glance in his direction, you opened the door and walked inside.

All eyes were on you and Yancy as you entered the main office, making a nervous lump rise in your throat. Shrike and Gareth looked up from their desks. Jasmine almost dropped her coffee as she twizzled round in her seat, and even Vakarian looked vaguely surprised as he stopped dead in his tracks. From the far end of the room, Mark’s eyes flickered with a sliver of delight at your return, but it disappeared when they landed on Yancy.

Every inch of you filled with anxiety as the very last person you wanted to see rounded the corner; Shark. She stared at everyone in the room, then at you, her eyes briefly flicking to Yancy. She broke the silence with a simple snap of her fingers.

“Mark. Zero. My office. Now.”

Mark got to his feet with a sharp inhale. You glanced at Yancy, your anxiety lessening slightly as he gave you a confident nod. You trailed a short distance behind Shark, taking solace as you left the main office and the watchful eye of your fellow criminals. Mark caught up to you and touched your arm, speaking in a confused whisper.

“What’s hedoing here?” He pointed behind him towards Yancy, who was following behind from a short distance.

You pulled your arm away from him. “Mind your own business.”

Shortly ahead, Shark was stood by her office door with her arms folded. Her eyes were still as cold as ever as you entered. Mark followed you, but Yancy was stopped in his tracks by Shark’s firm words.

“You. Wait here for now.”

She slammed the door shut after her, and you wiped your palms on your thighs. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Mark trying to give you a reassuring look, but you fixated on Shark’s desk as she stood on the other side of it. Her expression was unreadable, but it sent a chill down your spine.

“So,” she began at last. “You’re alive. And you made it back from your little prison vacation.”

Her expression changed, and the look on her face made you want to leap across the desk and strangle her right then and there. Something in your body language must have given you away, because Mark turned his head towards you with a look of caution.

“Yeah,” you said, swallowing your anger. “I’m alive and mostly unharmed.”

“From what Mark told me, you had quite the adventure on your first heist.” She smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “How are you?”

The question caught you off guard; so she did care, at least a bit. You swallowed before answering. “I’m fine.”

“And the artefact?”

Mark cleared his throat. “Like I said, ma’am-”

“Quiet, Mark. I wanna hear Zero’s side of the story.”

Mark’s face turned red and he averted his eyes to the floor. You took in a deep breath.

“It’s gone. Prison Warden confiscated it.”

Shark sighed, cursing under her breath. She turned around, staring at the wall as tension continued to plague the room.

“Well, your stories match, so consider yourselves lucky.”

You dared a glance at Mark. He gave you a small nod, his face saying a thousand words he could not utter in front of your boss.

“But tell me this.” The previous brief flicker of humanity disappeared as she turned round and slammed her hands on the desk. The sound made you jump. “You got yourself shot, landed not only yourself but my best thief in prison, andyou lost the damn thing we’ve been working towards for god knows how fucking long.” More rage filled every word as spit flecked the corners of her mouth.

“Why the hell should I give you another chance?”

Heart hammering, you decided it was time to play your trump card. You crossed the room and stood next to the door.

“Because I brought someone who knows what he’s doing.”

You opened the door. Yancy turned in surprise, and you beckoned him in.

“Ma’am,” you began with a clear of your throat. “This is Yancy. He was an inmate at Happy Trails Penitentiary. He helped me escape that place, and… I think he’ll be a valuable asset to the team.”

Yancy stood in the doorway, arms folded and lips in a tight line. He stepped inside and you shut the door after him, not missing the glare Mark shot in his direction. Shark stood up straight, assessing him. Yancy didn’t falter.

Silence. Eventually, Shark hummed.

“What d’you get locked up for?” She asked.

“Does it matter?” Yancy replied.

Your stomach dropped. Shark let out a small, high-pitched laugh and raised her eyebrows. “You’ve got some nerve. I like it. How long were you locked up for?”

“Ten years.”

“Why leave now?”

Yancy stopped, glancing at you briefly. “I gots somethin’ worth fightin’ for.”

A smile started to emerge on your face, but it stopped when Mark let out a scoff.

“Please,” he muttered. You shot him a death glare.

Shark smirked. “I’m sensing some tension here. Will the two of you working together be a problem?”

Mark and Yancy turned their heads and stared at one another. You turned to Mark with pleading eyes. He looked back at you, his eyes softening as he let out a defeated sigh.

“No, ma’am,” he mumbled.

You turned to Yancy. He straightened his back.

“I guarantee Iwon’t cause no trouble, ma’am,” he responded, one eyebrow raised with a daring side glance. “Yous want somethin’ done, I get it done. No questions asked. And I ain’t afraid to get my hands dirty.”

Shark pursed her lips, eyes darting between the three of you. Just as she opened her mouth to speak again, Yancy interrupted her.

“But with all due respect, I have one condition.”

“And what would that be?”

“Let Z off the hook.”

You held your breath, not daring to take your eyes away from Shark. After what felt like an eternity, she rolled her eyes and nodded.

“All right, fine. Consider yourself lucky, Zero. But I’m warning you, all three of you are on probation until you prove yourselves. Have I made myself clear?”

A series of nods and yesses filled the room, and a weight lifted from your shoulders.

He actually pulled it off.

“Good.” Shark picked up a folder from her desk and flicked through it. “I want the three of you working together for a new assignment. We’ve got some open plans still waiting to be set in motion…”

Yancy looked at you and smiled, giving you a wink. You smiled back, heart fluttering. You really owed him for this one.

A knock sounded at the door. Shark looked up from her folder. “Come in.”

The door opened and Shrike entered, a surprising spring in her step. She presented a piece of paper to Shark.

“Boss, you’re not gonna believe this,” she breathed. “Y’know that museum in Yorba Linda you wanted us to look into the other day?”

“The Nixon library?”

Shrike nodded enthusiastically. “They’re having an open artwork exhibit at the end of this week. The whole place is gonna be filled with priceless paintings, and Jazz just worked some of her magic and snagged three tickets.”

Shark nodded, still scanning the paper. “Good work. What’s the catch?”

“It’s just a small one. Black tie required.”

Shark looked up at last, locking eyes with you. You gulped, already knowing what she was going to say.

“Well, looks like we’ve found a job for you three.”

You, Mark, and Yancy glanced between each other.

“We’ll do our best, ma’am,” Mark said.

“You’d better,” Shark replied, straight back to her cold demeanour. She turned to Shrike, who had been carefully observing Yancy with interest.

“Shrike, take these three to the conference room and give ‘em the lowdown. Zero, I want you and Yancy in the gymnasium straight after. Make sure he knows how to use our gear.”

“Right, uh, yes ma’am,” you agreed, snapping out of your anxious thoughts. You couldn’t afford to screw this one up. A black-tie evening could be fun though… right?

As you followed Shrike down the corridor, she turned to Yancy, giving him the same long stare that Shark had given him.

“So you’re Yancy, I take it?” She asked.

“Yep.”

She glanced at Mark, who was trailing just shortly behind you. “Are you related to Mark?”

Yancy blinked. “What? No.”

Shrike shrugged. “You look kinda similar is all.”

Mark groaned. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Bang.Bang.

You stared at the farthest dummy ahead of you, two new bullet holes gracing its chest. Yancy lowered his gun and frowned, sighing through his nostrils. A strange sensation ran through your stomach, a mixture of intimidation and admiration.

“My aim’s not as good as it used to be,” Yancy sighed, glancing at you and clicking the safety on. “Guess I’s a bit rusty.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “You call that rusty? And here I thought I was meant to be teaching you,” you laughed.

Yancy grinned, a hint of pink gracing his cheeks. “Well, we’s got time. I’m sure there’s plenty more you can teach me, Z.”

His smile turned into a sultry smirk that rooted you to the spot. It was only when he broke your eye contact to put the gun down that you snapped back into reality and followed him, returning your own gun to its rightful place.

“Come on then, maybe we can try the grappling hook next?” You suggested, that strange sensation still working its way through you as you grabbed two grappling guns and turned to Yancy. The feeling intensified as Yancy approached you, waiting until he was only inches away to gently place his hands over yours and lower the grappling guns down. His eyes bore into yours, and your cheeks were on fire as he briefly looked down at your lips before clearing his throat.

“There’s just… somethin’ I wanna say first.” His eyes flickered down again.

You nodded, your throat too dry to form words.

Yancy looked to the side and frowned briefly. “You and Mark… I know yous said about that date you had planned, back when we were in prison.” His eyes grew cold as he stared into nothingness. Still you waited, patient but eager to hear what he wanted to say so badly that it required standing mere inches from you.

“It’s just… I can tell he’s still sweet on yous,” Yancy continued, looking at you at last. His eyes softened for a brief moment. “But I’s gotta be honest, Z. I don’t want no love triangles.”

You blinked as you processed his words. So that’s what was on his mind. You smiled a little and shook your head, moving one of your hands on top of his.

“If you’re trying to figure out if I’m available, there’s no need. Mark left me in prison, and… that kinda put a damper on things.” You gave a humorous smile, but Yancy still didn’t look convinced as he stared back at you, unmoving.

“There’s not gonna be a love triangle, I promise,” you tried again, squeezing his hand. “We’re all adults. We’ll handle this next heist maturely, I’m sure of it.”

After what felt like an eternity, Yancy nodded and smiled genuinely, and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding.

“All right, Z. Thanks.”

“No problem,” you beamed back at him. “Now come on, the sooner we get you trained up, the sooner we can leave before all the stores close. We gotta make sure we fit in at this black-tie evening.” You ghosted your hands away from his, brandishing your grappling gun and striding towards the wall with cheerful steps.

Yancy scoffed behind you. “I dunno if someone like me will ever fit in at a place like that, but it’s worth a shot.”

Next chapter

#a heist with markiplier #ahwm #heist mark #heist mark x reader #heist! mark x reader #yancy x reader #ahwm yancy x reader #ahwm yancy #my writing #nevernotwriting

14 notes · View notes

merakiaes · 5 years

Text

Worth The Wait - Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader, John Shelby x reader (platonic)

Requested: Yes.

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: This is not proof-read, so sorry in advance for mistakes and weirdly formed sentences. I hope you like it!

Wordcount: 3246

Summary: After your sister Martha’s passing, you’re left with John and the children to pick up the pieces. And although your relationship with John ins purely platonic, Tommy can’t help but be jealous of your relationship.

You were the first out of your sister Martha and yourself to meet the Shelbys.

You were two years older than her, the same age as John, and you and he had been classmates back when you were still in school.

The Shelbys and your family had lived in the same town your whole life, you and John seeing each other in school every day but never really talking. You had only started talking when you were sixteen.

It was around that age him and his older brother Arthur started getting into trouble, always going around the streets and picking fights with people.

Most of the times they deserved it, but still, you weren’t one to just sit back and watch, running in to save the day every time.

The first time it happened, John had been so caught up in punching the other boy that he’d accidentally hit you in the face with his elbow when you had tried to pull him back.

He had stopped only when hearing the sickening crack of your nose, turning back to look at you with wide eyes as Arthur, too, had, finally pulled himself back to reality and was yelling at him to stop.

John had wasted no time in starting to apologize, but rather than cry, you had just held your bleeding nose and punched him right back, before dragging him and Arthur off to clean them up.

From that day forward, you and John were inseparable, tight as two peas in a pod, but only as friends.

People often mistook your close friendship for young love, and it annoyed Tommy to no end, as he had developed a crush on you almost the same instant he laid eyes on you that day, watching with curious eyes as you punched his little brother in the face and then proceeded to scold both him and Arthur like you had known them forever.

Already at that time, you had actually managed to shut them up, having them hang their heads in shame while you cleaned their cuts, and it made Tommy fascinated, as he had never seen someone have so much control over them before.

Not even their aunt Polly.

At that time, Tommy had still been calm, and although sometimes a bit reckless, not half as violent as his brothers. So, most of the times, save a few when he actually joined in on the fighting, he would be stuck cleaning up his brothers with you.

It was two months later that you brought John over for dinner at your house for the first time, despite having been at theirs several times. And it was then John met Martha for the first time.

They took a liking to each other in an instant despite her being two years younger than you, and while you and John stayed best friends and attached at the hip, they started hanging out without you eventually, their relationship taking a romantic turn.

This left you with Arthur and Tommy, but since Arthur was the oldest of the brothers and had to help out with Finn, it was usually just you and Tommy.

You would spend hours on Charlie’s Yard with the horses, and stay out until late at night, just sitting around smoking cigarettes and laughing to the point where you would clutch your stomachs and be unable to breath.

For years, you and Tommy beat around the bush of your feelings to one another, as both of you were oblivious to the other’s emotions.

Tommy finally gathered up the courage to tell you one day, but then the war struck, and he decided to wait to tell you until afterwards, not wanting to leave you with that kind of heartbreak, should you love him back.

And so they left, leaving you back in Small Heath with Martha, Polly, Ada and your nieces and nephews; John and your sister sure had been busy.

You thought a lot about Tommy while they were away, but not as much as you would have if you would have stepped up your relationship before he left.

Tommy, however, thought about you every day, keeping a locket with your picture in his chest pocket, close to his heart at all times.

While away, John would talk about Martha and their children all the time. Tommy wanted to talk about you too, but for some reason, he just found himself unable to admit his feelings out loud before he had told you first.

But when the war was over, John came home and Martha was gone, having passed away in the influenza only weeks before their homecoming.

John was absolutely heartbroken and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t take care of his four children without the touch of a woman.

And so, you stuck around him from the moment he came back home.

Everyday, you would go over to his house with fresh food, getting up early every morning to go to the shop and be able to pick out the best fruit and vegetables before they were gone.

You would make them breakfast in the morning, making sure they were all fed, that the kids were ready for school, and that John actually got out of bed and headed over to the Betting Shop.

You would then hang around the Shelby residence the whole day while Polly and the Blinders tended to their business in the back, but rather than actually socialize, you prepped lunch and dinner for everyone and made sure everything was clean and in order so that Polly wouldn’t have to, taking care of Finn and John’s kids until it was time for the latter to go home to their own house.

All day, you would fuss over John and bid to his every request like you were the one he had married, taking care of his children like you were their mother. At least that’s how Tommy saw it.

He wasn’t the same after the war. He barely got any sleep at night, lying awake and listening to the sounds of shovels digging against the walls with panic, fear and anxiety rattling his bones. He craved for your touch, to be in your arms, but all you ever saw was John.

You knew it sounded horrible, but since they got back from the war, you had barely even taken the time to notice the way it had affected the older two of the three veterans. The only one you ever focused on was John, and everyone could see how jealous it made Tommy.

Before the war, he had been able to keep his romantic feelings towards you hidden good enough, but now, with the turn for the worse that his personality had taken, he was like an open book.

The only ones who couldn’t see it, were you and John, you being too busy to keep everything balanced in his and the children’s lives, and him being too wrapped up in his own chaotic mind to notice.

And though you and John had never been more than friends, everyone were now starting to doubt your constant denies to any romantic involvement with each other. Even Polly.

But they didn’t know that when you had put your nieces and nephews to bed every night, John would lay with his head in your lap and cry about your sister, remembering all of their shared moments and blaming himself for her death.

In what way it was his fault that she caught the influenza while he was away, you couldn’t quite figure out. But then again, you guessed there wasn’t really any logic in heartbreak, which was also why Tommy had been acting like a downright asshole for the past few months.

And today, when John had called for a family meeting in the backroom in The Garrison, was no different.

“Alright, John.” Tommy said in a bored toned as he wandered inside to where the rest of you were already sitting, trying his best to keep his eyes away from him where you sat beside him and sitting down on the opposite side of the table and lighting a cigarette. “Get on with it.”

You instantly glared at him, not knowing what had gotten into him. John was obviously distraught and exhausted, and yet he treated him like dirt.

Polly glared along with you, putting a comforting hand on John’s shoulder. “What’s troubling you?”

John took a shaky breath, fiddling with the box of matches in his hand, toothpick hanging from his lips and eyes red from tears and the lack of sleep. “Polly, you know what it’s been like since Martha died.”

Polly nodded, doing the sign of the cross and looking up into the ceiling. “God takes the best first.”

John’s leg bounced under the table with anxiety. He looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded, telling him to go on. “Well, the truth is, my kids have been running bloody rings around me. Running barefoot with the dogs until all hours.”

You looked at him with sympathetic eyes as he spoke, knowing more than anyone how exhausted he was. You wanted to keep helping him, but you couldn’t be with them at all hours every day anymore, as you had picked up a job as a nurse that would be taking time out of your days.

But Tommy didn’t seem to understand at all what he was getting at, only giving him an uninterested look and motioning to his aunt. “Pol, give him ten bob, some shoes.” He then turned to his younger brother, quirking a brow. “Is that it, John?”

“Tommy, we’d be better doing this without you.” Polly scoffed, before turning to John. “Now, what’s you point?”

John cleared his throat, straightened himself up and speaking in a much louder and cleared voice. “What the kids need is a mother. So, that’s why I’m getting married.”

Arthur and Polly shared a hesitant glance, looking between you and John with slightly narrowed eyes as they tried to figure the whole situation out.

Suspiciously, Arthur asked. “Does this poor girl know you’re going to marry her or are you going to spring it on her all of a sudden?”

“I’ve already proposed to her and she said ‘yes’.” John nodded, and when he looked at you for confirmation, to which you put a comforting hand on top of his while offering a smile, it was like all of the air was sucked out of the room.

With the suspicions that had been going around your inner circle in the last year, with the way you had been taking care of John and the children, everyone thought the same thing, and Tommy could feel his heart breaking in his chest right then and there.

Like so many times before, he found himself wishing he’d told you about his feelings before he left for France. But it was too late now.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, only leaning his arms forward on the table and looking down, hurrying to take a drag of his cigarette in a desperate attempt to rid himself of some of the anxiety that was quickly building up inside of him.

But it did absolutely nothing to soothe him.

Polly and Arthur both looked at the two of you with wide eyes and flabbergasted expressions.

“I-“ Polly paused, blowing out a breath and shaking her head slightly. “I guess we’ve been suspecting this for a while but we… We were never really certain.”

Arthur looked confused as ever, looking between you, John and Tommy, who was still glaring into the table. “Aye, always thought you had something going on with Tommy boy before we left.”

You and John both whipped your heads around to face each other, eyes growing wide at the realization of what they were saying, catching on immediately, but you were more shocked about what Arthur had said about you and Tommy.

While John looked at Polly with a horrified expression, you simply turned to watch Tommy with widened eyes, only then realizing the way he was glaring into the table.

“What?” John questioned, looking around at everyone in the room with a bewildered expression. “You thought- You thought I meant (Y/N)?”

Arthur and Polly shared a confused glance. “Didn’t you? We just assumed...”

“With he way she’s been ‘elping you…” Arthur joined in, both distraught.

At that, you pulled your eyes away from Tommy and exclaimed together with John.

“No!”

While John only shook his head violently, you scrunched up your nose. “That’s disgusting.”

At any other time, John would have for sure made a comment to that, but now he could only nod along. “We’ve been best friends since we were sixteen. I love ‘er like my sister.”

“Then who are you talking about?” Polly was even more confused now.

John looked to you, and you nodded to him, urging him to tell them.

“It’s Lizzie Stark.” He told them. “(Y/N) and I have never and will never be anything other than friends.”

By now, Tommy had looked up again, and you could feel his stare burning into your face, causing you to turn to meet his eyes.

He wanted to comment his brother’s choice of fiancée, but the only thing on his mind right then was you.

He had never experienced a panic like the one he had felt in the moment he thought you were the one marrying his brother. Not even the war could begin to compare to it.

And everyone else were just as relieved, finally not having to deal with Tommy’s sulky and bitter attitude now that he got another chance to come clean to you about his feelings.

John, however, as he had never thought about his older brother seeing you in a romantic way, only looked confused, eyes flickering between the people in the room. “Why did you think Tommy and (Y/N) was a thing?”

Polly and Arthur exchanged another glance, before turning to look at you and Tommy who had yet to look away from each other. John did the same, and realization finally lit up on his face, followed by narrowed eyes.

“Wait a minute…”

But before he could say anything else, Polly had whisked him out of his seat, clapping her hands and beginning to move out of the room. “Right.” She said. “I think we better let these two have some privacy. Go on, out you go.”

“But I-“ John tried to protest, but he was quickly pushed out of the room when Arthur joined his aunt’s side, the two managing to stop him from re-entering together and the oldest Shelby brother only smirking at the two of you before closing the doors, leaving you alone.

But neither of you had noticed any of it, as you were still starring into each other’s eyes.

Tommy’s face was a lot more relaxed now, the cigarette almost burned all the way to his fingers as he had forgotten all about it.

You could see it then in his eyes, the hidden feelings he had harbored for you for so long, just like you had for him. You had always felt some kind of connection with him, ever since you started hanging out alone when John first started courting your sister.

But even then, you had been too self-conscious and insecure to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, your opinion always being that he could get better.

He was Thomas bloody Shelby, for Christ’s sake; he could get anyone he wanted with a simple smile.

Yet, you couldn’t understand how you hadn’t seen it before, the memories of the countless of times you had caught him staring at you absentmindedly when you were younger now coming rushing back to the surface as you relived each and every one of those moments all in one.

Reality suddenly came crashing down, and you finally realized how different everything had been since they came back from the war.

Before the war, despite John still having been your best friend, it was Tommy who had kept you company each and every day. When he came back, you should have seen the impact the war had had on him.

But you had just been so caught up in keeping John sane that you had barely even acknowledged him during the whole year.

The realization filled you with guilt and caused a heavy frown to rise to your face, which instantly had you looking down in shame.

“I’m sorry.” Was the only thing you could say, looking back up slowly to see Tommy looking at you with a confused expression.

“For what?”

You gave him a sad look. “For denying you my support when you came back. You needed it just as much as John did, and I should have seen it. But I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

He gave you a small, sad smile, finally letting the cigarette go, crushing it onto the ashtray in front of him. “I suppose it’s mostly my fault. If only I’d told you before I left, maybe things would have been different.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, knowing exactly what he was talking about. But still, you wanted to hear him say it, asking in a shaky breath. “Well, do you have anything to tell me now?”

Tommy looked at you for a long moment, not saying anything, before finally standing up, straightening his jacket and walking over to you.

You wasted no time in standing up to meet him, your breathing becoming heavier with the proximate position you were now in, your eyes locked together and faces so close your noses were only inches away from touching.

With patronizingly slow movement, he reached out a hand and tucked a small strand of hair behind your ear, his hands then coming to rest on your cheeks. And with a concentrated expression, he finally spoke.

“I love you, (Y/N). I have ever since we first met.”

Your lips tugged into a wide smile and you instinctively leaned into his touch, your eyes never leaving his as your hands came up to cup the hands on your cheeks. “I love you too, Thomas Shelby.”

A smile to match your own appeared on his face, and only a second later, your lips were pressed together.

The kiss was short and sweet, years’ worth of bottled up emotion spilling out in that one moment and leaving you weak at the knees.

Only when you pulled away did you notice the way his whole body was shaking lightly, a frown instantly rising to your face as you squeezed your hands tighter to his.

“You’re trembling.” You spoke in a mere whisper.

But it was loud enough for him to hear, getting him to let out a short laugh. “John’s engagement announcement gave me quite a scare.”

You laughed along with him, blushing slightly and cringing at the thought of people actually thinking you and John were a thing.

Tommy grew serious once again, caressing your cheeks gently with a small frown. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

But you could only shake your head with a wide smile, not able to care about anything other than him in that moment.

“It doesn’t matter.” You told him. “In the end, things that are meant to be always finds its way. It took time, but it was sure worth the wait.”

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #finn shelby #john shelby #polly gray #john shelby x reader

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w1986 · 3 years

Text

Harassment by Russian security services

I got into trouble with the Russian security services.

This happened approximately in 2015, 2016. The original motivation for the Russians initial approach to try and coerce/intimidate me is not known for sure, but it's most likely related to a political blog I was writing here in Finland from 2013 to 2016 approximately. The other equally plausible candidate reason, has to do with my brother, who I think is almost certainly working to benefit the Russians. He is a fairly big chief in the banking business, responsible for a dozen or so banks in the Southern Finland.

What was it like at first getting into trouble with the Russians?

Preparatory phase I believe there was a groundwork phase in this which involved collecting so called "Kompromat" or material to be used in extortion later. This kind of extortion doesn't work on me, due to my personality. But of course they couldn't know that in advance. Anyway, I think I got under surveillance by the Russians somewhere around 2014, but I did not suspect anything at this point, and there was no cue whatsoever that would've aroused my suspicions at the time.

Soft initial approaches or probes The first concrete interactions with the Russians occurred somewhere around late 2015 and early 2016. This involved fairly subtle things like people contacting me on social media and saying weird stuff, but I didn't really suspect this had something to do with the Russians, I only came to realize this later. Additionally in the spring of 2016 there was some in person approaches which were fairly distant, but they were kind of like testing how I would respond to certain things I'll skip explaining this time.

Actual recruitment/whatever effort When I went to this construction school which lasted 2 years it was also attended by an Estonian-Russian person named Andrei. He was first of all a really big guy, somewhere between 190-200 cm, and probably well over 100 kg. He wasn't a jerk or anything, though, but his behavior was a bit strange. Anyway I believe the plan for the Russians was to recruit me, and that it was this Andrei persons task to get it done during this 2 year education. And this involved subtle harassment and intimidation, like veiled threats and such, and they were pretty tricky, like bystanders wouldn't detect it very easily. This was achieved by using material collected elsewhere to substantiate the intimidation, basically hacking my computer and monitoring my online activities, and that sort of thing, provided material to use for the intimidation effort.

This I think didn't go so well, because first of all i suspected something was going on, but I didn't know what. But my initial attitude was that I tried to reject these approaches. Like when this Andrei person would ask me to do something with him, or something like that, I basically politely declined.

Escalation of matters So basically I started thinking that this person is probably related to the Russians and their security services, and later I came to realize the things that had happened earlier, were probably related to the same problem. First of all I started talking to people saying that this person is probably related to the Russian intelligence, like the KGB/GRU type of people. I didn't really know much about the entire topic at the time, but I think the Russians tried to misdirect me and kind of lead me to think that it's about something else. Well this kind of backfired too, coz I started talking about how they're trying to misdirect me, or basically something like that. And I wasn't 100% sure yet, that this was really the correct explanation for what was going on and as I developed alternative theories, like maybe I was just targeted online by some hacker, and the rest is just some weird coincidence.. Well the Russians tried to reinforce that, by trying to mess with me online making it look it was just some random hacker. Except, it didn't look like it was a random hacker, but instead, more like someone was trying to make it seem like that. So that didn't work so well.

This whole thing also caused me some anxiety so I tried to seek some help regarding that. Luckily though, or unluckily, depends how you look at this, I was already rather well-read on psychology and such matters, like I had watched/listened to hundreds of hours of lectures, read several books, and could name various disorders and understood a lot of stuff related to that. I wasn't exactly an expert in that I didn't have a formal degree, but for a random person, I was fairly knowledgeable.

Discrediting strategy So basically when I sought help for this anxiety problem, the Russians picked up another approach, they decided to try and make it look like maybe I was just imagining it, and instead incorporated these aspects into the harassment, which kind of sounded like if you'd try to tell someone about it, they might think.. well is that really what's going on? Or is that just what this person thinks is going on?

So that became their number one approach. Regardless of what I would believe about the case, they wanted to make sure, no one else would believe me. Or at least they'd be suspicious and think there are some alternative explanations to what's going on.

This sort of worked, except, it didn't, because I never really started to question these entirely logical and empirical observations, but it worked in the sense that if I would go through these events only superficially or not to a great enough detail, then people wouldn't understand why it is that I even thought it is the Russians. Like I would literally have to explain details about what this Andrei person said, and what some other person did, and what happened online at the same time, etc.

Literal death threats So the most concrete of all the threats and intimidations I've received, was during a time when this Andrei person said literally the following phrase - although it was in Finnish - "We are going to kill you". So, you might think maybe there was some other reason for him to say that, or isn't that just kind of odd approach for intelligence to begin with? Like they wouldn't be that foolish, would they? But it was complacency from the Russians part, they had this context set up that would kind of work as a cover story, but regardless it wasn't a very smart thing to do. Whatever their approach is, the fact to the matters is, that there's a person I think is probably related to the Russian security services, who I think has tried to intimidate me, who is Russian speaking and ethnically Russian, and who literally told me they're going to kill me. Whatever explanation you're trying to cook up for this, well.. it would be kind of strange that this had nothing to do with the Russians, yet at the same time, this event took place.

There were some other threats but it was more like a psychological game, in which the Russians tried to balance the threat so that, it wasn't exactly clear if they really wanted to threaten me, or was it more like they just wanted to make a subtle enough threat that I could interpret it that way, but when I would try and explain it to someone else, they might be like.. well maybe that wasn't an actual threat, like maybe it was just a coincidence? And so, I didn't think it was with intent, it was more intimidation, without truly meaning the threat aspect.

Contacting the authorities Anyway this whole problem developed several years and there are all kinds of things that happened, which of most I'm just skipping, but basically I contacted the police and the counter-intelligence for the first time in February 2020. So that's already over a year ago, but considering how early this issue actually started, it's quite late.

This is mostly because I didn't want to contact the police. I figured that if I'm dealing with the Russians, my problems might just get worse if I start to make a really big fuss out of it. Additionally I wanted to create an incentive for the Russians to leave me alone, and sort of allow this thing to de-escalate. However, that wasn't what the Russians wanted, and so the things eventually escalated anyway. And I went to contact the police, regardless of thinking that rationally, it's probably not the correct decision.

However, when I went into the police station, the Russians had arranged for a couple of people to wait outside the office and subtly try and discourage me from making my report. Well, I ignored them. The police officer was dismissive and their attitude was that I should probably just leave, until I mentioned that well there was also this literal death threat, which kind of impelled them to have to try and take it more seriously. But anyway, they just gave me like an email address, and I figured that if the police can't handle this case, I mean they clearly had zero structure or policy in place, which would allow them to be capable of dealing with something like Russian intelligence. So I basically just gave up on trying to deal with the regular police. Although I did call the police later, and explained generally what was going on, but they said they can't do anything, because of the nature of the case. Like there's too many people involved, the part played by each individual is too small, they can't really investigate a single person, and they don't know where to start. I mean they just couldn't do anything.

However, I also contacted the counter-intelligence. And well, my first impression was that the Finnish counter-intelligence is pretty amateurish and hasn't even taken into consideration really basic stuff, like how do you actually submit information about a case like this, and they hadn't made it possible, to give information, in a way that was secure. Like basically they said that okay tell us about your case and send us an email. So, like isn't there a small chance there would be a motivation for revenge, from the Russians, if I just start emailing details about their activities to the counter-intelligence?

Also how do I even know that the emails reach their destination? And that the contents are correct? I mean I've had some cyber harassment in the process, which involved my computer being clearly hacked. It seems like this could be an issue.

But anyway, they didn't have a solution for that, and didn't even seem to understand this is a problem. So I guess our Finnish civilian counter-intelligence, just kind of sucks, unfortunately.

But regardless of me being severely disappointed in our society, and in our authorities, I did eventually supply them with some details about the case, and they told me I should supply them more details, which I've considered doing, and for various reasons have sent some emails and such.

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dontcare77ghj · 4 years

Text

Glasses

Tony x reader x Bruce

Like this pairing and want to see more? Let me know down below or through inbox/message.

Masterlist Sleep Series Masterlist Halloween/Supernatural Masterlist

The three of you were some of the smartest people of your age. The three of you had created and solved some of the greatest things the world had seen. But just because you were the smartest of your age, does not mean you knew how to function correctly, or at all.

The three of you were messes of human beings. Tony primarily functioned on coffee, going what felt like weeks without sleeping properly, Bruce had issues with intimacy and with the other guy, though you and Tony did work with him on his intimacy issues, and you struggled with anxiety, but your boys told you, you were getting better with it.

Not to mention the fact you were all incredibly forgetful. Forgetting where you left papers, where you left your keys and you all forgot to sleep or to take your glasses off when you did.

“Bruce, it’s two a.m., even Tony is in bed. Please just come to bed with me.” You pleaded, pulling the short robe tighter over your body.

“Honey, I promise I will come to bed soon.” Bruce promised, moving away from his laptop to take your hands in his. “I am so close to finishing this, I’ll be done in an hour max.”

“Brucie, how long have we been together?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at the man.

“A long time.” He responded, pulling you in closer.

“Exactly, and during this time I’ve worked out, you’re as bad as Tony.” You said, raising an eyebrow at the man who suddenly became sheepish.

“Please, hon, one hour and then I’ll come to bed. I just want to finish this.” He pleaded, pushing his glasses back up. You stared at the scientist for a minute before nodding slightly.

“One hour. If you don’t make your way up to our bed in one hour, I’ll be back down here to drag you up to bed.” You sighed, pointing sternly at Bruce. Bruce smiled brightly and kissed you quickly

“Thank you, honey.” He said, pulling away to move back to where he’d set up. “One hour I promise.” He added before getting back to work. You smiled and shook your head at the excited man before leaving the lab.

“I thought you were making him sleep.” Tony queried as you crawled back into bed. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled in closer. “You made me come to bed.”

“He’s got one hour to finish what he’s working on before I go down there again.” You supplied, resting your head on his chest. “J.A.R.V.I.S. can you please alert me in an hour if Bruce is still in the lab?”

“Of course, Miss L/N.”

“There, you have an alarm if Bruce doesn’t come up.” Tony said, smirking slightly. “How about we get some sleep now?”

“I could go for some sleep.” You admitted. “Love you, Tony.” You told him, leaning up to kiss the man before settling back onto his chest.

“Love you too, Y/N.”

An hour later you woke to the sound of beeping and something prodding your shoulder.

“Go away, Tony.” You grumbled, pushing the hand away.

“Not a chance, baby girl.” Tony said, continuing to poke you. “That’s your Bruce alarm.” He told you causing you to spring up.

“I’ll be right back.” You told the man, jumping out of bed and into the elevator. Running into the lab, you were about to yell at Bruce to get his ass in bed when you stopped suddenly and smiled. Bruce lay slumped over the lab bench, drooling slightly and glasses smooshed into his face.

“Oh Bruce.” You sighed, having an internal debate. Nodding to yourself you moved over to another bench and pulled out the emergency blanket and pillow. You carefully set Bruce up on the makeshift bed and took the glasses off his face. “Night Brucie.” You said, kissing him on the forehead before going back to bed yourself.

“Where’s the big greenie?” Tony asked, pulling you into the bed.

“Asleep in the lab.” You answered, curling into his arms. “He’s lucky I got to him now, he could’ve broken his glasses if he slept with them.”

“Well that would be a stupid mistake.” Tony snorted. “Night Y/N. Love you.” He added.

“Love you too, Tony.” You replied, curling deeper into his warmth.

Both your boys had gone out for the day. Tony was stuck in meetings all day and Bruce had gone out for the day to a safe space to give Hulk an area to have some, safe, fun. With both boys out for the day you’d decided that you needed to finish working on some of the experiments you’d been putting off.

You’d been in the lab for most of the night before and all today. You’d done most of the things on your list and only had a couple things left to do, but you were tired. You’d been running on caffeine, but it was finally starting to wear off. You were too in the zone to get up and get more coffee or go to bed.

You were so tired; you didn’t even remember leaning over the computer and falling asleep.

According to the computer, you’d been asleep for nearly two hours when you woke up. But the time wasn’t why you’d woken up, it was the discomfort you felt on your face. Lifting your head from the computer you saw, or rather didn’t see, what the discomfort you felt was.

As you lifted your head, your glasses fell onto the counter in four separate parts.

“Shit.” You groaned, picking up the two pieces of the broken frames. The lenses themselves had popped out and one of them was broken beyond repair. “Double shit.”

Without being able to use your glasses, it was incredibly hard to see anything. Knowing you had a pair of somewhat useful glasses in the bedroom, you began to slowly make your way to the bedroom.

You made it through the lab and onto the elevator with no problem, but when you made it to your floor you began to have trouble. You were constantly crashing into something and could hardly walk a straight line.

“Baby girl.” Tony said suddenly as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You jumped in surprise and put your hand on his arm. “Are you drunk?”

“I’m not drunk, Tony.” You said, shaking your head slightly.

“You can be honest, Y/N.” Bruce’s voice came from behind you. “We did watch you stumble around the room then.”

“I promise I’m not drunk you two.” You told them both, turning to face them. “I broke my glasses.”

“I’ll get your spares.” Bruce said before he left the room.

“How did you break your glasses?” Tony asked in concern. “You’re usually so careful baby girl.”

“I fell asleep with them on.” You mumbled quietly, cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch that.” Tony said, leaning closer to you.

“I fell asleep with them on and they broke.” You said again, this time louder and clearer. Tony laughed as your face got redder and you could hear Bruce chuckling behind you. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up you two.”

“Here you go, honey.” Bruce said, placing your glasses in your hand. “Tony stop laughing.” Bruce chided the still laughing man.

“I’m sorry baby girl.” Tony apologized, looking slightly remorseful. “It’s just, haven’t we had the conversation to not fall asleep with our glasses on?”

“It was an accident.” You defended yourself, putting your spares on. “And now I’m paying for it, I hate these ones.” You groaned as your eyesight was still fuzzy.

“I’ll book you in for an appointment.” Bruce promised, coming to stand behind you.

“I thought you two weren’t going to be back until late tonight?” You asked, relaxing between the two.

“A couple of my meetings were cancelled, and I finished the rest early.” Tony explained, running his fingers along Bruce’s and your sides.

“The big guy didn’t want to be away too long today either.” Bruce said. “He wanted to smash trees with you two there.”

“We’ll all go together next time.” You promised, looking back at him. “It’ll be fun.”

“Since we’ve all done what we need to today, how about we order in and watch some movies, in the bedroom?” Tony suggested.

“Sounds great.” Bruce said, smiling up at the man.

“You two get set up in bed and I’ll order in. Pizza or Chinese?” He asked, puling apart from the two of you.

“Pizza.” You and Bruce said together. Tony smiled and kissed the two of you and went into the kitchen to grab the menu as Bruce led you into the bedroom.

Non-reader POV

“Okay the pizza is ordered who’s picked the movie?” Tony asked coming into the bedroom. He stopped in the doorway and smiled at the two in front of him.

Y/N and Bruce both laid in bed, Bruce curled around Y/N with her head resting on his chest. Both were fast asleep and still had their glasses on.

“What would you two do without me?” Tony asked, rolling his eyes fondly as he took their glasses off and put them on the bedside table. He proceeded to get undressed and joined the two of you in bed, curling around the two of you.

Reader POV

“This place is gorgeous.” You sighed, leaning against Bruce. The two of you were lounging in the pool at Tony’s house in Australia.

It had been a few incredibly long and hard months back home and this was your vacation. Tony had come up to you both in the lab last week and told you both to ’pack a bag, we’re going on holiday.’

Without telling you where you were going, Tony helped you and Bruce pack a suitcase and hauled you off on his jet for the vacation.

The three of you had landed in Australia a week ago and it had been the most relaxing week, you’d all had in a long time. You’d spent your days, relaxing on the nearby beach, swimming in the pool, cooking out under the stars and of course enjoying each other’s company

Tony’s house was completely private, no-one was able to disturb you. You’d even been able to have the other guy out and about a couple times.

“It is isn’t it?” Bruce said, drawing you out of your thoughts. “It’s so peaceful, it almost makes up for the heat.”

“I’ll take the heat if it means I get you two all to myself.” You told the man, turning in his arms and wrapping yours around his neck. “I’m a selfish woman and I love it when it’s just us three.”

“We love it being just the three of us too, hon.” Bruce said, wrapping his around your waist and leaning down to kiss you. “Speaking of the three of us, where’s Tony?” He asked once you pulled apart.

“I think he’s sunbathing.” You said, looking around to spot Tony on a chair near the pool on his stomach. “Though he looks like he could be asleep.”

“You think we should wake him?” Bruce asked, looking where you were.

“Might as well, it’s about lunch time anyway.” You said, leaning up to kiss Bruce before you swam away with a devilish smirk. “Race you to the stairs.” You called, swimming away. Bruce quickly caught up to you and unfortunately made it to the stairs before you.

“I win.” He said, smiling cheekily at you. Rolling your eyes fondly you climbed out with Bruce walking behind you. “Do I get a prize?” He asked, grabbing you by the waist and spinning you around.

“We’ll see, Doctor Banner.” You teased, kissing him on the jaw before unraveling his arms from you. “But for now, what do you say we wake our lover?”

“I think that sounds like a plan.” Bruce responded as you took his hand in yours and pulled him over to the chair.

“Is he sleeping with sunglasses on his head?” You asked, looking down at the man.

“I think he’s wearing another pair.” Bruce commented, tapping Tony on the shoulder. “Tony wake up.” He said gently. Tony shot up as Bruce tapped him. He looked around in confusion almost knocking the glasses on his head and the ones he was wearing off.

“What’s going on?” He asked, voice thick with sleep as he looked between you two.

“You were sleeping.” Bruce supplied.

“With two pairs of sunglasses on. Why do you even have two on anyway?” You asked, staring at him feeling slightly smug. “Aren’t you always telling us to not fall asleep with our glasses on?”

“I can tell your feeling very smug right now, N/N, but in my defense, I don’t remember falling asleep.” Tony said, running his fingers through his hair.

“Come on, sleepyhead.” Bruce said, helping Tony off the chair. “Let’s go inside, get some lunch in you and then you can go to bed.” He added, leading him into the house with you following.

You and Bruce made a large lunch while Tony sat at the island. When the two of you were down you turned to plate up and instead of seeing Tony sitting there wide awake, Tony was fast asleep on the island, still with two pair of sunglasses.

“Should we wake him?” Bruce asked, smiling at the sleeping billionaire. He really didn’t get that much sleep that often.

“No, let him sleep. We’ll save some lunch for when he wakes up.” You told the man, putting the plates down and taking Tony’s sunglasses off. “We’ll go eat in the living room.” You added, kissing Tony on the head.

Tony woke up a few hours later and joined you two on the couch with a plate of his own.

The three of you were messes of human beings but you were working on it. Together.

Give me your feedback. Give it a like. Leave a comment. Share with your friends and reblog. Inbox/message me any ideas, pairings or whatever you’d like. Like this pairing? Let me know.

Coming soon;

Natasha x reader x Bucky

Steve x reader x Natasha

Sam x reader x Bucky x Steve

Steve x reader x Sam

Clint x reader x Bucky

Natasha x reader x Bucky

Bucky x reader x Sam

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hopesilverheart · 4 years

Text

Title: I loved your colours (before I loved you) Artist: @calliartss Rating: Explicit (Chapter 10 only) Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Clary Fray, Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood Word Count: ~95k Summary: Magnus Bane is a journalist who's always dreamed of modelling for Lightwood Fashions. When the CEO Alec Lightwood starts looking for new models for their spring collection, he jumps on the occasion.

In the meantime, Alec Lightwood is struggling with the idea of finally announcing his role as co-designer. When Magnus Bane strolls into his life, Alec is torn between keeping his secret or throwing all caution to the wind.

This fic was created for the Malec Discord Mini Bang 2020.

Chapter 15: Blinded by the colours

Magnus couldn’t breathe.

Isabelle was at his side, rubbing soothing circles into his back and reminding him that he couldn’t back out now, and he couldn’t breathe. The only reason he was still standing was because he couldn’t ruin his outfit, not when he knew how much the show meant to Alexander and Clary.

Magnus would have to be walking down the runway in twenty minutes, but he wasn’t even sure he remembered how to walk. Isabelle had assured him that Andrew and Emily were going through a similar nervous breakdown in their own corner of the changing rooms, but Magnus wasn’t sure she understood how big this event was for him.

He was modelling for the first time in front of hundreds of important people – including some of his ex-corkers – and he was doing so for Alexander’s collection. The collection the man he loved had designed with Magnus in mind. On top of that, this was the night Magnus finally gathered the courage to apologise to Alexander and tell him that he loved him without getting interrupted.

He wasn’t sure an event had ever mattered as much to him as this fashion show did.

“Magnus, I understand why you’re freaking out, but you need to pull it together sooner rather than later,” Isabelle urged him, tightening her hold on him when he stumbled slightly in an attempt to move. “Why don’t we go see the other models, huh? The night is going to be stressful enough as it is, so maybe a bit of time spent with our colleagues will help you relax before the show. Just… forget about the things you’ll have to do in a little while.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, even though Magnus wasn’t sure he could get his mind off the show or Alexander. He had been incapable of thinking about anything else for days, and he didn’t see that changing anytime soon. However, he wasn’t going to deny Isabelle such a simple favour. If she wanted him to talk to the other models, that was exactly what he would do.

“See! I told you Magnus would be just as nervous!” Magnus narrowed his eyes at Aline as he reached the group. He knew he looked like hell, but he really didn’t need another reminder. “No offence, Magnus. I’m sure you’re going to do wonderful out there tonight, but you’re not the only one who needs support and reassurance.”

“You already know people love you,” Andrew nodded, looking panicked and wild and slightly unhinged. “The first issue you released was a success and you’re the only thing anyone can talk about. We, on the other hand, are just some unknown models who can’t afford to screw this up.”

Emily nodded agreeably from her seat on the floor, looking up at Magnus with anxiety written all over her features.

“We had to send someone to get their significant others,” Maia whispered to Magnus and Isabelle as the other models fussed over their two nervous colleagues. “They seem determined to go through with the show so we’re not worried about that, but the last thing we want is someone passing out from sheer anxiety. Do you want us to find someone for you, too?”

“I should already have-”

Before he could finish his sentence, a ball of energy and brown hair came hurtling into his legs, rustling the fabric and almost knocking him over in the process. As much as Magnus wanted to be annoyed at his goddaughter for disregarding his ‘don’t mess with the outfit’ rules, he was far too relieved by her appearance to say anything.

“Madzie,” Catarina tutted, shaking her head at her daughter as she leaned in to kiss Magnus’ cheek. “You’d better hope those pants are still spotless, because I’m pretty sure Magnus’ team isn’t going to accept anything less than perfection.”

Behind Magnus, Maia and Isabelle made matching noises of agreement. If the giggles Madzie let out was anything to go by, they were also pulling faces at the little girl to get on her good side. Ever since Magnus had introduced Madzie to the models and the rest of the fashion team, they had all started harassing him with questions about his goddaughter. He knew she was cute, but she was also not theirs, for heaven’s sake.

“How are you feeling?” Catarina asked him once Madzie had detached herself from him and ran off with one of the girls.

“Not great,” Magnus laughed nervously. “I mean, I know I’ve got the modelling part down since Lydia and Raphael have been coaching me non-stop for months, but- I don’t know, I’m starting to wonder if I should just call everything else off. What if he hates it, Cat?”

“He won’t hate it,” his best friend huffed, shaking Magnus’ shoulders gently. “You pulled off this plan in less than two weeks, and it’s one of the sappiest, most romantic things I have ever had the pleasure of participating in. Is it slightly embarrassing? Yes, but all the best grand gestures are, especially when the recipient is as big a romantic as your man apparently is.”

Magnus knew that. He had thought about that every step of the way, every time he had started doubting himself. Isabelle had assured him that Alec would love the gesture, and he had believed in her. Had believed in himself and his knowledge of what Alexander did and didn’t like. Now, though, he couldn’t help but feel like he had gone completely overboard.

What if Alec didn’t want him back? What if he thought Magnus was trying too hard? What if he wrote him off as desperate? No matter how kind and compassionate Alec was, even he had to have his limits, right?

“Magnus?”

Oh no. No, absolutely not.

Magnus was stressed enough as it was; the last thing he needed was Lorenzo fucking Rey to show up at his work place looking smarmy. How on earth had the man even gotten in?

“Hey, babe,” Andrew cut through Magnus’ thoughts, pecking Lorenzo’s cheek and smiling dopily at the man, looking far less worried than he had seconds earlier. “Thank you for coming here, especially considering- Just… thank you. So, do you and Magnus know each other?”

“We used to work together,” Lorenzo answered easily, looking Magnus up and down confusedly. “At Fade Medias. I thought you had moved to Lightwood Enterprises for a job as Head Editor, Magnus, not as a model. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a model, but it’s a little out of character for you.”

“Is it?” Magnus raised his eyebrows, finally snapping out of his daze. “I think it suits me rather well. And I’m more than capable of handling two jobs at once, Lorenzo. My position as Head Editor is secure even when I’m on another floor, and I’m far from the only person in the department to work as a model.”

“Magnus is great at what he does,” Andrew nodded along to Magnus’ words, earning himself an irritated look from Lorenzo – his date? Boyfriend? “We all just wish he would take a little more time for himself on the side, since he’s always so busy working.”

“That’s me,” Magnus chuckled, smirking slightly at Lorenzo’s guilty look. “Always working harder than anyone else. Maybe that’s why I missed the fact that the two of you are dating. How long has this been going on?”

“A few weeks?” Andrew shrugged. “It’s still pretty recent, but I’d like to think it’ll last a while longer.”

As soon as Lorenzo turned to stare down smittenly at his boyfriend, Magnus knew it was time for him to leave. There were a lot of things he could handle in life, but his ex-boss who had always treated him like crap acting like a love-sick fool wasn’t one of them. Instead, he turned back to the rest of the fashion team and smiled as he spotted a familiar figure embracing Emily.

“Julie!” He greeted the writer, his smile widening when the woman waved at him without turning away from her girlfriend. “I see that the comforting crew has entered the building. Feeling better about the show now, Em?”

“She’d better be feeling better about the show,” Julie huffed, twisting herself around so she was leaning back against Emily, her head resting on the brunette’s shoulder and Emily’s arms wrapped around her waist. “Because she knows she’s beautiful, isn’t that right? And you’re going to do so well, baby; you could just stand there and people would cheer for you. You’ve all been getting ready for months, and there’s no reason for any of you to fail.”

She looked straight at Magnus during that last part, raising her eyebrows at him knowingly, as if she had been aware of just how much he needed to hear something like that. In the meantime, Emily had turned a bright red and had buried her face in her girlfriend’s hair, which Magnus took as his cue to leave the loving couple alone.

“You’re going to be great out there, Em,” he said as he left, patting the brunette’s shoulder reassuringly before grinning widely at Julie. “And you, keep her out of trouble for the next ten minutes or so, alright? Go talk to the other gays in the room – yes, I’m aware that’s just about everyone – and distract her for as long as possible. Thank you for coming.”

“Anything for my baby,” Julie smiled softly, kissing Emily’s temple. “But you’re welcome. Don’t worry about her, I’ll make sure she’s fine, and I’ll see you at work on Monday. Good talking to you, boss.”

Magnus rolled his eyes at the appellation but didn’t bother correcting the blonde woman. He had learned very early on during his time at Lightwood Media that most of his employees would call him whatever they wanted to, whenever they wanted to. Unfortunately for him, he liked Julie enough to let her get away with it.

“And he’s smiling! What a miracle!” Isabelle exclaimed, beaming as Magnus joined her and Clary’s side again. The redhead looked stunning in her emerald and gold dress, and she seemed to be well aware of it. Magnus had never seen her look so confident before.

“I have to be out soon, Magnus, but I just wanted you to know that I think your plan is going to work just fine,” Clary said impassively, even though Magnus could see a sparkle of excitement and eagerness in her eyes. “And of course, I’ll do my best not to screw it up. Isabelle gave me instructions and I intend to follow them, if that makes you feel any better.”

It did, and Magnus didn’t hesitate to express his gratefulness to the redhead. A part of him had worried that she would mess things up for him out of pure spite or pettiness, but he should have known that the woman Isabelle loved wouldn’t do something like that.

“Well then,” Clary continued, grinning widely. “Showtime.”

***

The lights dimmed, and Alec’s heart rate sped up considerably. The ambiant music was turned off, and he tried to remember how to breathe. The audience quieted, a spotlight was aimed at Clary, and a veil of anxiety draped over his skin.

His best friend looked beautiful, dressed in greens and golds and – unknown to the attendees – reds, although those were hidden underneath layers and layers of fabric. Even though Clary had taken care of dozens of fashion shows in the past, Alec thought she had never looked so radiant.

The final reveal was always a moment of joy for the team, and doubly so for the designers, but this was… this was something else. This was the collection that had granted Clary love, and it was the collection that would lead to Alec’s first step into the limelight. They had practised this exact moment hundreds of times, and yet Alec still wasn’t sure he was ready for the chaos that would ensue.

“You’re going to be wonderful out there tonight,” his mother murmured, her eyes never straying from Clary’s graceful figure.

They were both hidden behind two thick curtains at the back of the runway, waiting for Alec’s turn to shine – or to fail, depending on how things went. Alec couldn’t have been more thankful for his mother’s presence; as fragile as their relationship was, he had to admit it was nice to have someone at his side whilst he waited to do the single most terrifying thing he’d ever done in his life.

“You can’t know that,” Alec whispered back, almost bouncing on his toes as he waited for Clary to start speaking. He knew timing was of the greatest importance, but he also just wanted this to be over with already. The sooner they could get the show started, the sooner they could get it finished, and the sooner he could reveal himself and get rid of the horrible anxiety clawing at his chest. “You can’t know how I’ll be. There’s a good chance I’ll freeze on the spot and forget everything I wanted to say. The only speeches I’ve held in the past few years have been business-related, and this is- This is different.”

“It matters more,” his mother hummed, smiling at him softly when he turned to her with wide eyes. “I’m not stupid, Alec. I know you care far more about these clothes you design than you do about the company itself. You’re a great CEO, but you’re an extraordinary designer.”

Alec’s heart stuttered at his mother’s words, still unfamiliar no matter how many times she’d said them in the past two weeks. Despite all his worries, he couldn’t help but perk up slightly at the praise. It reminded him of what Clary had told him once, when they were still young designers who had no idea how successful they were going to be.

Everyone had been pushing Alec to give up, to stick to business and forget about his art, but his best friend had taken him aside and asked him one, very important question.

If you had to choose, if you had to pick one thing you wanted to do forever, could you honestly tell me you would pick business? You’ll be a good CEO once you’ve fixed your father’s messes, Alec, but you could be a spectacular designer.

After that, he had never thought about quitting the job of his dreams ever again. He loved his colours, his partnership with Clary, and the support of the fashion team far too much for that. Now, he was going to get to share all of that with the rest of the world. He would be able to tell them that the only reason he was still a designer was because of the people around him.

That thought was enough to have him cracking a smile despite the stress he was currently under. He had chosen this life and he refused to be ashamed of it.

Clary reached the front of the runway, curtsied with a light giggle, and opened her mouth to speak just as the thunder of applause died down. A golden hue illuminated her from behind, and Alec could see various members of the audience gaping at his best friend.

“Good evening, everyone,” the redhead started, the smile evident in her voice even though Alec couldn’t see it from his position. “Thank you all for coming tonight and thank you for showing support for our latest collection even before its release. We at Lightwood Fashions are delighted to finally be able to present what we view as our greatest accomplishment to date. We hope for this spring collection to be the beginning of a new leaf for our brand and couldn’t be prouder of the pieces we will be showcasing today.”

Her speech sounded scripted – her speech was scripted – but Alec could hear the pride and joy in Clary’s voice as she spoke. She may have been working on her words for weeks, but Alec knew they still meant as much to her now as they did when she first put them down on paper.

“In honour of this new leaf, my co-designer and myself have decided to rename our own personal brand, or more specifically to correct your assumptions about our brand,” Clary continued seamlessly, glancing behind her and smiling when their brand’s logo – a simple L intertwined with an F – appeared behind her. Everyone had always assumed the letters stood for Lightwood Fashions, but Alec could have never done his best friend so dirty; “We present to you today, after a brief note from my co-designer, the Lightwood-Fray 2021 spring collection.”

There was a moment of silence as the audience members turned towards each other with considering and calculating eyes, but enthusiastic clapping broke out as Clary grinned brightly before moving towards the runway’s entrance, heading straight for Alec and Maryse.

As she approached them, Alec realised what her exit meant and almost broke into a bout of hysteria right then and there. He wouldn’t be appearing on stage for another hour or so at least, since he had decided to wait until the end of the show to actually step out, but he had also…

“Good evening,” his recorded voice rang out in the show room, startling a few attendees as they looked around for the source of the sound. “By now, I’m sure Clary has told you all about what the collection means for our company and for our brand. However, before the show can start, I thought it would be important for all of you to understand what it means to us, as individuals.”

Alec could have heard a needle drop in the complete silence that followed the start of his speech, and only Clary’s hand squeezing his fingers tightly stopped him from panicking about the entire plan. She had promised him it would go fine; the silence was just a result of the audience’s shock, not of their horror. It was just shock, and he couldn’t even blame them. After all, he had been trying to shock them.

“It’s no secret that, at times, designers and artists find a muse,” recorded-Alec continued, sounding far more smooth than real-Alec could have managed at that moment. Thank god for Clary and her wonderful idea to let him work up to an on-stage speech. “For the first time in our lives, Clary and I have both found that person who inspires us to try more things, to expand our horizons, to be more. The spring collection is an ode to a new page in our careers, but it’s also the physical demonstration of the love we have been given.”

In the end, it had been impossible for Alec to cut Magnus out of the picture, no matter how afraid he was of rejection and mockery. He hadn’t been lying when he had told Magnus that he was his muse, and he would be damned if he didn’t give the other man the credit he deserved.

Besides, just because the two of them were no longer together didn’t mean Alec couldn’t still love him. Angel, did he love him.

“The first time Clary met her muse, she hated her,” the recording went on, sounding amused and light as Alec always did when he thought about Clary and his sister. “But through it all, the two of them have always meant something to each other, and now they mean more to each other than ever. It was all too easy for her to design half a collection solely for the woman she loves, be it through magnificent designs or shapes or fabrics or colour suggestions.”

Next to him, Clary smiled shakily, looking towards the models’ changing room doors with tears of joy in her eyes. Alec knew that, had she been given the choice, Isabelle would have been right there with them, probably crying over the words Alec had spoken for Clary. Before he could so much as hug his best friend, however, his voice rose again and he scrunched his eyes closed as tightly as he could manage.

“The first time I met my muse, I thought he was the most beautiful person I had ever seen,” Alec’s voice said softly. Alec wondered if his love for Magnus was as obvious to everyone else as it was to him. “Hell, I still do. He shines brighter than anyone I’ve ever met, and I painted him onto every outfit we created, even though nothing could match his magnificence. He’s the reason behind all the colours I added to this collection; he’s the person who gave me the courage to truly step out of my comfort zone.”

He wondered how Magnus would take the entire speech. Would he disregard it and follow Alec’s earlier instructions of leaving him alone? Or would he understand that this was the only way Alec could express his feelings without feeling like he was drowning? This was the closest thing to a love confession Magnus would get, and if he still didn’t want to talk to Alec after this… Well, Alec wasn’t going to fight forever.

Next to him, Clary smiled gently and knocked their shoulders together in a silent show of support. Alec had never loved her more.

“This collection is as much a matter of fashion as it is a matter of the heart, and I hope it’ll show in the final product,” recording-Alec concluded, sounding as nervous and excited as Alec currently felt. “Thank you for coming on this journey with us tonight, and I hope you enjoy the view.”

The audio cut off, and the room burst into a wave of whispers as the audience connected the voice to Alec’s. He wondered if they knew what it meant or if some of them were still fooling themselves into believing Alec was nothing more than a substitute speaker.

The dim lights turned off completely, and Alec completely forgot about the attendees’ reactions to his little speech. He would have plenty of time to worry about that later, when he was fielding off questions and handsy reporters. For now, his newly found fame and identity were the least of his worries.

He hadn’t been kidding when he had announced that this collection was as much about fashion as it was about the heart – about love. He may not have designed all the clothes in it, and he may have had Clary’s help and council on every single piece, but it didn’t make it any less valuable. He and his best friend had poured their entire souls into the final show, and he would be damned if he didn’t watch every single second of it.

“I have to go,” Clary whispered as the models moved around to their left, getting ready to step onto the runway and do the one thing they had been preparing to do for months. “I know you wanted us to watch the show together, but the models needed my help with something and I promised I wouldn’t disappoint them.”

Alec frowned, wondering what on earth could justify his best friend’s sudden disappearing act, but he knew better than to ask. If Clary had wanted him to know more than the basic facts, she would have told him. Besides, there was a good chance that when she said models, she meant Magnus, and Alec really wasn’t ready to face the man quite yet.

“You’ll be back for the end of the show, right?” Alec frowned, thinking about the plan they had put in place. “Because there’s no way I’m going out there without my co-designer. We’re in this together, Fray, and I will fight you if you try to run away.”

“Why run away?” Clary smiled. “I have nothing to be afraid of. But yes, I promise I’ll be back for the end of the show. I wouldn’t miss it for the world, and my deal with the models should end before we make our grand entrance. Or is it a grand exit? Either way, I’ll be there.”

“Perfect,” Alec nodded. “Then off you go. I’ll be joining the fashion team in a second, I just want to make sure the beginning of the show goes off without a hitch.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Clary waved his statement away. “Seriously, they have it under control. We didn’t want to say anything in case we needed you last minute, but everyone agreed that you should enjoy the show instead of having to work again. I know a part of you wants to join the team to make sure everything is going off without a hitch but trust me on this. You’ll want to see what comes next.”

Once again, Alec didn’t question his best friend’s words. He did want to join the rest of the team, but he wanted to see what Clary was helping them with even more. So as she walked away, he dutifully stayed in his ideal viewing spot and shuffled nervously from foot to foot, wondering what on earth was about to happen.

Before he could worry or wonder too much, a single spotlight was pointed straight at Clary, who had somehow made it to the side of the runway and was grinning brightly at the crowd. Clearly, whatever the models had needed wasn’t a bad thing. Clary was many things, but able to cover up her emotions wasn’t one of them.

Then she spoke, and Alec’s mind went blank.

***

In front of Magnus, Emily and Andrew took a deep breath, letting their remaining tension melt from their shoulders. Next to him, Isabelle smiled reassuringly and smoothed her clothes over one last time.

She looked beautiful in her almost-sheer flowery blouse and ripped jeans, and although Magnus knew the audience was mostly there for the high-end part of the collection, he was certain the general public would love the more casual side of the collection. Clary and Alec had truly outdone themselves, creating something affordable for people to enjoy, and Magnus couldn’t have been prouder to represent their brand.

“So these are the colours you think of when you think about the beginning of yours and Alec’s relationship, huh?” Isabelle asked him quietly, gesturing at their little group of models. The ten of them were dressed in warm hues, from oranges to dark yellows to burnt pinks, and Magnus wondered if Alec’s colours resonated as deeply with everyone else as they did with him.

Probably not, but perhaps that was the point.

“I think about every colour when I think of Alec,” Magnus shrugged, the rainbow and white outfit flashing in his mind, “but these ones do remind me of first meetings and longing and all those wonderful things one feels at the beginning of a relationship.”

“Can’t relate,” Isabelle chuckled, winking at Magnus as she gestured towards Clary.

The redhead had made it to the side of the runway, and Magnus could barely contain his impatience. She knew what she had to do, and he had complete faith in her ability to make sure everything went off without a hitch, but a part of him still itched to check up with her one more time.

Before he could so much as move, however, a spotlight was directed towards the back of the runway, right where Kaelie and Meliorn were waiting, and Magnus knew it was too late. The show was about to begin, and the most he could do now was wait and be the perfect model the fashion team had trained him to be.

“Naming collections has never been me and my partner’s strong suit,” Clary started, chuckling along with the crowd. It was no secret that the designers’ one and only attempt at naming their creations hadn’t gone well, hence why they had stuck to nameless collections up until that point. “Thankfully, a good friend of mine has incredible insight on this collection’s meaning and was able to name these outfits to perfection.”

Magnus’ breath hitched as he looked around at his fellow models. His colleagues and friends were looking at him proudly, expectantly, and Magnus let their confidence fill his heart and mind. They believed in him, so there was no reason for this to go wrong.

“This spring collection is, in many ways, a story,” Clary continued, her scripted words sounding more genuine than anything Magnus could have achieved. “And as many stories are, this one is about love. I won’t go into detail with all of you, but I’m sure you’ll understand what I mean once you see these designs. For now, please enjoy the beginning of our show with our first series of casual-wear designs, Quite Magical.”

Isabelle smiled approvingly and nudged Magnus’ side before schooling her features and straightening up, her gaze never straying from Emily’s back. Magnus quickly copied her and let the model mentality his friends had taught him about take over his movements.

By the time it was his and Isabelle’s turn to step out – they were the last of the group – Magnus felt sure enough that he wouldn’t collapse as soon as he walked into the light. The audience seemed to be enjoying the first round of outfits, Clary was biting down on her bottom lip to keep in a grin, and Magnus couldn’t mess any of this up.

He couldn’t remember a single second of his first walk down the runway. He knew he had done a good job, since that was the only thing Isabelle had told him before racing to get her second outfit on, but his mind had seemingly decided to black the entire experience out when he tried to recall the walk.

Thankfully, he really didn’t have the time to over-analyse what had just happened, since he was already stripping out of his clothes and stepping into his next pant-shirt combo. He had to walk out in casual, flowery outfits three times before moving onto the part of the show he was most looking forward to, and he couldn’t help but hope that time could move slightly faster.

No matter how eager he was, however, he made sure that his performance remained impeccable and professional every time he stepped onto the runway. He didn’t falter, didn’t let his eyes stray to where they definitely wanted to go, and kept a polite and charming smile plastered on his face every time the cameras went off.

By the time the haute couture outfits were up, Magnus didn’t even have to fake his smile. He loved his job as an editor and wouldn’t give it up for the world, but he had to admit there was a certain thrill about going on stage and showing off outfit after outfit to the audience. Now he understood why Isabelle kept up her hectic schedule year-round; for an experience like that, Magnus would easily give up on a proper night’s sleep.

He slipped into his peacock-like outfit with a grin splitting his features. This was one of his favourite outfits, the greens and blues and golds clearly meant for him, and he had been dying to see the audience’s reactions to it – as well as to Isabelle’s peacock dress.

Clary announced the beginning of their Cryptic and Coy outfits, and Magnus got back in position behind Andrew again. Beside him, Isabelle looked radiant and confident in her long, sleeveless gown, and Magnus had to bite back a burst of delighted laughter as they stepped onto the stage.

The attendees turned to stare at Isabelle and him appreciatively, and Magnus wondered if they had any idea what they were looking at. He wondered if they understood how many meaningful glances Alec and he had exchanged, wondered if they saw them in the colours Magnus was draped in, wondered if any of them could see the memories of their first date Alec had hidden in the shirt’s layers.

They probably couldn’t, just as they probably couldn’t recognise their first kiss in the purples and golds Magnus wore when Clary announced the Lose Control series. There was no way any of the audience members could tell how much desire and longing were represented in those colours, but Magnus didn’t care. He didn’t care, because they were smiling and clapping, and he knew what the colours meant.

“Magnus!” Madzie called out as he stepped off the runway for his third-to-last outfit.

She looked beautiful, dressed in a miniature version of the dress Clary had designed for Isabelle. The blues and golds made her skin and eyes stand out, and Magnus couldn’t help but hope she would be allowed to keep it after the show. He was sure she would love nothing more than to wear such a pretty dress to costume parties.

“Mom says I look like a princess,” she giggled, taking his hand and bouncing on her heels excitedly. Magnus let go of her hand and went behind the curtain reserved for his quick changes. He took off his previous outfit – a mostly-open shirt painted in silvers and blues – and quickly changed into the much more formal blue and gold suit Alec had designed after their date at the pier. “But I told her I wasn’t a princess at all. Do you think she should get her eyes checked? That’s what she always tells me when I say something stupid.”

Magnus chuckled at his goddaughter’s antics and shook his head fondly at her as one of the hairstylists fidgeted with his hair before shooing both him and Madzie back towards the runway.

“I think your mother just needs to learn more about the difference between princesses and other magical, beautiful ladies,” Magnus whispered as he nodded at Isabelle. She would be stepping out a little before them so they didn’t risk anything with Madzie on stage, but she still took the time to coo at Madzie’s dress. “And I’m sure that the Sorcery theme tipped her off as to what you really are.”

“Alec’s favourite sorceress!” The little girl grinned, obediently settling down when Magnus shushed her and tightened his grip on her hand before leading them out and onto the stage.

The crowd went utterly silent for a second before bursting into ‘aw’s and ‘ooh’s at Madzie’s appearance. The little girl looked around shyly for a few moments before catching up to Magnus’ quicker strides and smiling prettily at the audience members. She even started waving at someone to their left as they made their way to the end of the runway, which Magnus found odd for all of thirty seconds before he noticed who she had been gesturing at.

As he walked back to the back on the runway, his gaze crossed Alec’s. The man had been standing behind the curtains when the show had started, of that Magnus was sure, but now… Now he was sitting in the front row with his mother to his left and Jace to his right. He looked like he couldn’t remember how to breathe, staring at Madzie and Magnus with wide, impressed eyes, and Magnus felt weak in the knees.

He barely made it back to the changing rooms, and he was almost convinced Madzie had had to drag him for the last few feet. The only reason he snapped out of his daze was because he knew the next two outfits were the most important ones, both for the show and for him. He couldn’t mess it up when he was so close to the finish line.

“Alec gave me a thumb’s up, Magnus!” Madzie giggled happily as Magnus took off his suit and exchanged it for another, this one red and black and decorated in a thousand little jewels. “That means I did good, right?”

“It means you did great, little sorceress,” Magnus grinned back at her, swallowing down his nervousness as he remembered what, exactly, he had named this particular series of red and pink clothes. Perhaps he should have thought it over some more before giving the list to Clary for approval. “I’m sure Alec will find you and congratulate you for your performance later. You could be a great model someday.”

“I don’t want to be a model,” the little girl shrugged. “But you’re an amazing model, Uncle Magnus. Mom thinks so, and I think so, and I think Alec thinks so too. He was looking at you the same way you always look at him, which means he must love you, right?”

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” Magnus answered diplomatically, not wanting to get in an argument with Madzie about love when he needed to be back on the runway in less than five minutes.

Clary was already announcing Aku Cinta Kamu, technically the last series of outfits in the collection, which meant Kaelie and Meliorn were about to step on stage. It also meant Magnus had to get the hell back to Isabelle before the brunette tore him a new one.

“I’m trusting you with her,” he told his hairstylist, pointing at Madzie. “Her mother should be around in less than three minutes, but I need to get going now. I love you, sweet pea, and you were wonderful out there. I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Alright!” Madzie smiled, waving at him as he rushed back to the runway and took his rightful spot next to Isabelle, who raised his eyebrows at him, looking decidedly unimpressed.

“Cutting it short for the ones that matter, I see,” she snarked, snapping her mouth shut as Lydia gestured for Emily and Andrew to step out. “But for the record, who even knows what Aku Cinta Kamu means?”

Lydia shushed them before Magnus could answer, so he ignored his friend’s question and focused on the runway instead, wondering if Alec had ever gone through and found out more about Magnus’ language. He had said he would, but they hadn’t been together very long and there was a good chance the designer had been joking around to begin with.

However, as he walked down the runway with Isabelle a few steps ahead of him and let his gaze stray to Alexander, he knew the man had done exactly what he said he would. There were tears in his eyes and he was looking at Magnus like he couldn’t quite believe that he was real.

As though Magnus had been the one to design an entire collection after him and publicly call him his muse. As though Magnus telling him he loved him mattered even more than that. Magnus still couldn’t quite believe he had someone as extraordinary as Alec in his life, and he was finding it even harder to believe that Alec thought he was the extraordinary one.

He couldn’t remember anything from his walk down the runway other than Alec’s eyes on him, steady and warm and as beautiful as when Magnus had first seen them. He wasn’t sure how he had managed to tear his gaze away from the designer long enough to smile for the cameras, but he was pretty sure he deserved an award for that.

By the time he made it back to his changing room to put on his final – and most important outfit – he was shaking with nerves. Alec’s awed smile and teary-eyed gaze seemed to point at a happy ending for the both of them, but he couldn’t be sure yet. He couldn’t get his hopes up before he got a clear answer, so he would go through with the end of his plan and pray.

Isabelle appeared behind him, dressed in her magnificent white dress covered in a rainbow of sparkling reflections, and Magnus breathed in deeply.

He could do this.

***

Alec was frozen in his seat, unable to do more than stare dumbly at the runway as his sister stepped out in the beautiful dress Clary had designed for her – with minimal help from Alec.

He was still reeling from the previous outfits, a whisper Aku Cinta Kamu looping in his mind and making his heart beat faster than ever. He had known, of course, that Magnus loved him. He had known that the other man wouldn’t change his mind in less than a month, just as Alec hadn’t been able to change his. Love had never been the issue, not for Alec.

He realised now that love should have been the only issue. He shouldn’t have cared about the secrets or the white lies or the mistakes, because he loved Magnus and Magnus – for some inconceivable reason – loved him back. That should have been enough from the very start.

If watching Magnus walk down that runway in that outfit had taught Alec anything, it was that Magnus had always been enough. After all, why else would Alec have designed that outfit as soon as he had realised he was falling for the other man? Why else would he have missed the journalist so much over the past few weeks? Why else would he have found it impossible to look away from Magnus?

Even now, as his sister smiled for the cameras and displayed one of his favourite dresses for the world to see, he couldn’t think of anything but Magnus. He wondered if he had given this last outfit a name too, or if he – just like Alec – thought the white ensemble couldn’t be translated into words. And more than anything, he wondered if this entire affair meant what Alec thought it did.

Maybe he hadn’t been the only one with a plan for the night. Good thing for Magnus, it seemed like their plans aligned quite well with one another.

His thoughts came to a screeching halt as Isabelle stepped off the runway and a single spotlight appeared right where the models came out. Even knowing what was going to come next, even having seen Magnus in the outfit before, Alec still lost his breath when the man he loved walked onto the runway looking more beautiful than ever.

The last time Alec had seen Magnus in the white outfit, he had been too busy with Clary and Izzy’s love life as well as his own heartbreak to focus on how well it suited Magnus. Now, though… Magnus swayed down the runway, a small smile curling at his lips as he glanced over at Alec, and the designer wondered if it was possible to fall in love with someone twice.

Magnus glistened in the spotlight, his white shirt gleaming brightly in a rainbow of colours as he twirled around for the audience. Alec had always thought of Magnus as the sun, all golden skin and golden eyes and golden heart. Staring at him now, though, he couldn’t help but wonder if Magnus had been an angel in disguise all along.

He looked stunning in white, and Alec vowed to design him a hundred other outfits like this one. He wanted to admire Magnus under every light, in every room of their studio and from every angle of his bed. He wanted to see the sparkling shirt torn open and exposing Magnus’ bare chest. He wasn’t sure why he had chosen to design this outfit, couldn’t remember when he had decided to make it the final and central piece of the collection, but he knew he couldn’t have made a better choice.

Magnus reached the end of the runway and stopped completely, wringing his hands behind his back in a way that made Alec sit up in anticipation. He knew Magnus, and he knew the other man only ever fidgeted when he was about to do something out of the ordinary.

Rattling Magnus’ nerves wasn’t an easy feat, which meant that whatever he had in mind went against all of his instincts. Alec could relate. After all, he was almost certain Magnus was about to give a speech that would bring Alec to tears, and the designer had a similar one planned as soon as the models were done with their part of the show.

The reminder of what Alec was going to have to do threatened to choke him with a wave of anxiety, but he pushed it back down and focused on Magnus instead. If Magnus could do this – whatever this was – then so could Alec.

The music stopped, Clary left her spot besides the runway to disappear in the background, and Magnus opened his mouth. The crowd held its collective breath, and Alec shifted in his seat.

“Good evening, everyone,” Magnus started, echoing Clary’s and Alec’s words from earlier. He sounded sure of himself, although Alec could see the way his fingertips trembled slightly. “I know it isn’t conventional for a model to take centre stage and steal the limelight from the wonderful designers who created the collection, but I’m afraid you’re all going to have to bear with me for a few minutes.”

A few chuckles echoed around the room, and Alec was pleased to find that no one tried to complain about Magnus’ little interruption. He would have quickly shut them down as the fashion show’s organiser if it had happened, but he was glad that everyone was behaving – for now.

“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Magnus Bane,” the model continued, looking surer of himself by the second. “I’m the Head Editor over at Lightwood Media, but I currently work as a model for what I believe is the greatest collection this country has seen all year, if not more than that. The Lightwood-Fray fashion team is one of the best teams I have ever worked for, and I have never been more grateful to be a part of something.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Alec could spot the fashion team – Clary included – peeking around the corner of the runway with smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes. Even Isabelle, who Alec assumed had helped Magnus organise his plan, seemed to be biting back a sob.

“I’m also the one who helped the lovely Clarissa Fray come up with names for this wonderful collection. They might have been a little bit sappy, but I won’t apologise for the reason behind all these names,” Magnus said, his voice wobbling as his gaze briefly skipped to Alec. “Because no matter how great working with the team has been, nothing could ever compare to what I feel for Alexander Lightwood. You may only know him as the company’s CEO, may think he’s a little bit dull or arrogant or self-centred, but the truth is…”

He cut himself off then, fully angling his body towards Alec and abandoning all pretence of speaking to the rest of the crowd. Hopefully, they would take the grand gesture for what it was and not interrupt Magnus, because Alec really wanted to know where this was going.

He had an idea, of course, but he needed to hear Magnus say it, and he needed to hear him say it now, preferably.

“The truth is, Alexander is one of the most amazing people I have ever met,” Magnus murmured, his voice crystal clear in contrast to the rest of the room’s complete silence. “He may be a little rough on the outside, but aren’t we all? He’s far from perfect, but I have never met anyone who cares as much as Alec does about the people around him. I’ve never met anyone who can command a room without coming off as rude or selfish as well as he can. I’ve never met anyone so talented, beautiful, and worthy of love.”

Alec could feel tears rolling down his cheeks, but he didn’t even try to wipe them away. He had been dreaming of someone loving him enough to announce it to the rest of the world ever since he was a child and there Magnus was, fulfilling his dreams once again. Alec felt his heart swell more and more by the second, overwhelmed by his feelings for Magnus and the feelings Magnus seemed to have for him.

God, he loved this man. And he was going to make sure Magnus knew exactly how much Alec loved him as soon as he was given the chance to speak. He wouldn’t stand to see Magnus cry because of him for a single second more.

“So Alexander, know this,” Magnus added, seemingly fighting back tears of his own. “I may have loved your colours far before I loved you, darling, but I love you more than anything in the world. You are the most incredible man I have ever met, and I will never be able to properly express how sorry I am for ever hurting you. You deserve the world and, since I couldn’t give you that, I settled for second best. This show is a piece of your world, Alexander, and I hope you know how much I cherish it. How much I cherish you.”

As far as love confessions went, Alec wasn’t sure he had ever heard anything that could rival Magnus’ words. He knew he was biased and that his best friend would probably argue that Isabelle’s declaration had been just as beautiful, but Alec would have to politely disagree.

Magnus was still staring at him intently, his eyes shining brighter than his glimmering outfit, and Alec smiled through his tears. He knew it wasn’t nearly enough to make Magnus understand how much his words meant to Alec, but it was a start. The rest would have to wait a few minutes.

Thankfully, it seemed like Magnus got the message, because he nodded minutely before turning back towards the rest of the audience and executing an elegant and shallow bow.

“Thank you,” he said, before grinning mischievously and winking at the group of photographs. “Hopefully that was enough time for you to get the pictures you needed. Unsurprisingly, this is by far my favourite outfit of the bunch. And now I’ll let our wonderful designers finish their show the way they had planned.”

He sauntered away to a thunder of applause and confused murmurs, and Alec could feel more than a few stares aimed in his direction. He knew they were probably expecting him to run to Magnus but, as much as Alec wanted to do that, he did have a show to finish.

So instead of doing what he so desperately wanted to, he hurried to find Clary in the staff area, fumbling with his suit jacket as he walked. He had told himself he would get ready for his first official appearance as a co-designer during Isabelle and Magnus’ last performance, but he had been too transfixed to even remember that he had to go through an outfit change.

He got ready in record time, putting on the clothes Clary had designed for him and hoping the dress he had designed for her would match his outfit as perfectly as he’d hoped.

“Alec! There you are!” Clary exclaimed, looking Alec up and down a few times before nodding approvingly. “We need to be on stage in less than three minutes. Lydia managed to stall for us by answering a few exclusive questions, but we need to get on there as soon as possible. Are you ready to blow Magnus’ speech out of the water by making our own perfect confession?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Alec swallowed nervously. His hands felt sweaty and he knew he was trembling all over, but he refused to back out of this. “Let’s get this over with.”

“And remember,” Clary said softly, placing her hands on his shoulders and fixing him with a piercing glance. “This isn’t about Magnus. This isn’t about the audience. This isn’t about me. It’s about…”

“Me,” he completed for her. “I know.”

He hadn’t been sure, at first, but he knew Clary was right. He wasn’t revealing his secret to the world because he felt like he had to, or because he thought it would make Magnus love him more. He was doing it because he had been hiding for far too long, and he was sick of lying about his life.

He was proud of what he had accomplished, and he wouldn’t let fear get in the way of that. His mother believed in him, Clary believed in him, the fashion team believed in him… Hell, even Magnus believed in him. And more importantly, Alec was starting to believe in himself. He should have stopped letting other people’s expectations get in the way of his happiness years earlier, but better late than never.

With one more nod aimed mostly at himself, he took Clary’s hand in his and smiled at his best friend, feeling stronger now that she was next to him. They had been working on this for months, it would be fine.

Lydia stepped behind the curtain, and Alec led Clary out to a thunderous round of applause.

***

If there was one thing Magnus thought he had known about Alexander, it was that the man was the perfect epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. He had always had that look about him that had made Magnus swoon and honestly, the model hadn’t thought it could get any better.

Although Alec was still tall and handsome as he stepped onto the runway, fingers linked with Clary’s, Magnus was suddenly hit with the thought that he had been missing out on a big part of his boyfriend’s – ex-boyfriend’s – life. Dressed in clothes clearly designed by Clary and Alec themselves, light seemed to seep from Alexander’s very being.

His outfit was nowhere near as bright or flashy as Magnus’, and yet Magnus was almost certain he had never seen anyone shine so beautifully. His Alexander was draped in a thousand shades of blue sown together in a way that shouldn’t have worked but did, and threads of gold glimmered in the room’s artificial light, the perfect glimmering match to Magnus’ ensemble.

He knew that, were he to step onto that stage, Alec and he would clash horribly, and yet… yet he thought that in a way, they would look stunning. He hadn’t been lying when he had said that he loved Alexander for more than his colours, and he would ruin his own image a hundred times over if it meant he got to stand next to the man he loved.

He barely had the time to notice Clary’s emerald and gold dress before the pair of designers reached the end of the runway and visibly breathed in deeply, smiling as the crowd continued cheering them on. Magnus wondered, right then, how many people had already understood the significance behind Alec’s opening speech. He wondered how many of them had caught the clues in his own words. He wondered if they knew who they were clapping for.

And if so, he wondered why they weren’t clapping harder. Magnus wasn’t sure any amount of praise or recognition would ever live up to what Clary and Alec had created, but they could damn well try to give them at least a fragment of what they deserved.

“Thank you,” Clary started, grinning at the audience and catching Magnus’ gaze momentarily, seemingly unsurprised to find him in the crowd rather than backstage. “Thank you for coming and thank you for being patient and respectful throughout this evening. I know our show has had some… unconventional elements added to it, and I’m sure you’ll be glad to know it isn’t over yet.”

She glanced at Alec then, letting go of her best friend’s hand and taking a step to the side, leaving Alec alone in the limelight. She looked so proud, and Magnus wondered how hard it had been for her to have to hide her best friend from the public eye all along. Isabelle had seemed to think that Clary didn’t understand why it was important for Alec to reveal himself, but Magnus thought the brunette had it all wrong.

Clary stared at her best friend like her dreams were finally all coming true, like she had never been happier in her life. Her hands were loose at her sides, there was a small smile curling at her lips, and Magnus knew she had been waiting for this moment to arrive all along.

As confused as he had been at first, he now understood that Alec and his colours just… made sense. They worked in a way that Magnus couldn’t quite explain, and he couldn’t be happier that the man he loved had people at his side every step of the way.

“Good evening, everyone,” Alec started, cringing as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Magnus chuckled lightly, biting down on his bottom lip when the woman next to him sent him a sharp and reprimanding look. “I suppose I should say good evening again. I hope you all had a wonderful time tonight, and that you’ll consider investing in a few Lightwood-Fray pieces once they are released to the general public.”

He sounded nervous, and Magnus wanted nothing more than to wrap Alec up in his arms and never let him go. He wanted to tell him it would be alright, that he didn’t have to worry, that Magnus would be there no matter what everyone else thought.

Unfortunately, he knew going up on stage wasn’t an option, especially not given how much time he had already spent there, pouring his feelings for Alexander out into the world. But Alec was strong; if he had made it this far, Magnus knew he wouldn’t break. He would get everything off his chest and Magnus couldn’t wait to see it happen, couldn’t wait to take in everyone else’s reactions.

“Most of you know me as Lightwood Fashions’ CEO,” Alec said quietly, his voice ringing clearer than ever in the completely silent room. “And I am. I was always meant to take over one of my parents’ companies and, although most people expected me to take after my mother, here we are today. I know what the rumours are, you know? I’ve heard it all. I know I’m too dull for a fashion company, that it would have been better for Isabelle to take over, or that I’ll never be the icon everyone wants me to be. But I also know- I know that’s not all I am.”

Finally, finally, his eyes drifted to Magnus’, almost as though he couldn’t quite help himself. He looked lost and confused but so, so determined, and Magnus had never loved him more. Whatever Alexander had been looking for when his gaze had strayed to Magnus, he found it in less than ten seconds, breathing in deeply before speaking again.

The whole room was holding their breath, and the inner journalist in Magnus wanted nothing more than to be taking notes like the other reporters in attendance. But Alexander didn’t need Magnus the Head Editor at the moment; he needed Magnus, the man who was madly in love with him.

So, Magnus shoved his hands into his pockets and didn’t let his eyes leave Alec’s beautiful silhouette for a single second.

“When I took over for my father, no one thought I would last the week,” Alec continued, his eyes glazing over as he lost himself in memories. “I hadn’t even graduated from college, I didn’t have any interest in fashion, and I was too inexperienced. I heard the same questions over and over again; you’re too young, you don’t know what you’re doing, why would you even choose fashion? Frankly, I don’t blame any of you. If I had been in your place, I would have wondered the same things.”

But he hadn’t been in their place. He had always known fashion was where he belonged, and Magnus marvelled at the strength it must have taken the CEO to ignore everyone’s opinions and focus on himself instead. In his place, Magnus wasn’t sure he would have lasted a week.

“What you didn’t know back then, what no one knew – not even my own mother – was that I had already started studying fashion,” Alec added.

Magnus sat up in his seat as he realised what Alec was doing, what he was giving them. This wasn’t just him announcing his position to the world; this was him telling them about all the moments in his life that had made him into the man he was today.

“Clary and I met in college when both of us were struggling to find a connection to the courses we had picked. She was studying art but didn’t think it was exactly right for her, and I felt like my business plans weren’t what I had always dreamed of having. We found each other in the middle of madness and haven’t let go of each other since. I’m the one who signed us up to take a basic fashion class, but she’s the one who pushed me to keep going. Even back then, we were a team.”

Magnus wasn’t sure when he had started crying, but he supposed it was around the same time Clary had let out a quiet sob before stepping off stage, clearly struggling to keep her emotions in check. She had run straight into Isabelle’s arms, and Magnus felt another pang of longing shoot through his chest as he thought about doing the same thing for Alec.

“We’ve never stopped being a team since then,” Alec went on, his voice trembling and tears shining in his eyes as his words stumbled past his lips. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, I was Clary’s co-designer all along. We’ve been working on designs together since long before we joined the company, and I’m sure we’ll be doing it even once we’re old and grey and barely able to speak. So to all the people who thought I was too closed off or not honest enough, know that I’ve been sharing my colours with you for half a decade, and those colours mean the world to me.”

For a second, Magnus wondered if his speech had come to an end. He raised his hands to start clapping but stopped when Alec shook his head minutely, opening and closing his mouth a few times as though he were struggling to find the right words. Magnus wasn’t sure what Alexander wanted to add to his beautiful declaration, but he had a feeling it was even more important to the designer than his big reveal.

Alec’s eyes pierced through his soul, and Magnus held his breath.

“This part wasn’t planned, so bear with me,” Alec smiled crookedly, getting a few chuckles out of the audience. “However, I would be a fool not to say anything to the man who stood up here and gave me the romantic gesture of a lifetime. Magnus Bane is the most incredible man I have ever met and, no matter how many mistakes he’s made, I will never – never – cease to love him.”

Honestly, Magnus should have known better than to expect Alec to respond to his love declaration in private. He had known, going into this, that Alexander was the biggest romantic he had ever met, and he should have expected the designer to do something just as grand as what Magnus had done for him. Damned Lightwoods and their perfect minds.

“Magnus is the only muse I have ever had and, if I have it my way, he’ll be my muse forever,” Alec breathed out.

Magnus wasn’t even sure how he was hearing him above all the frantic whispers of the other audience members. Maybe he had just grown attuned to his boyfriend’s voice, or maybe he had just learned how to forget about everyone else when Alexander was nearby.

“He has made me the luckiest man alive by being part of my life, and I will never regret hiring him as our model. He has shown me that the world can be so much more than an office and an apartment, and I hope he knows that without him… Without him, this moment would have never happened. You give me courage, Magnus. You make me brave and bold and for that I will be forever grateful. Maybe dedicating an entire collection to you so early on in our relationship was a reckless idea, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

Magnus knew they were making a spectacle of themselves, declaring their feelings for each other in front of an entire crowd, but he thought maybe that was what love was really about. Maybe love was about pushing their own boundaries and letting go of their fears just to prove that they cared for each other. It was terrifying – and Magnus would know, since he had been in Alec’s place less than twenty minutes earlier – but it was also mind-blowingly easy.

Because if there was one thing Magnus knew about his relationship with Alexander, it was that it mattered more than anything anyone might have to say about them.

“So, Magnus Bane, you may cherish me, but I…” Alec stumbled on his words, staring straight at Magnus and shaking his head slowly, as though he couldn’t quite pinpoint what he was trying to say. “I treasure you, because you are the most precious thing in my life. So thank you for loving my colours and thank you for loving me. I just hope I can give you even a morsel of what you’ve given me.”

Magnus let out a sob, and the crowd seemed to take it as a sign to start clapping. They cheered and whistled and patted Magnus on the back as though they knew exactly what he was going through, but Magnus only had eyes for his Alexander.

“Thank you for listening, and thank you again for coming to the show,” Alec concluded his little speech. “I know this isn’t exactly the conclusion you were all imagining, but I hope it didn’t ruin the experience for any of you. All questions about the collection should be directed to Lydia Branwell and Clary Fray for the rest of the night. I hope you all enjoy the rest of your evening.”

As soon as he stepped off the runway, the audience dissolved into a true ocean of chaos, and Magnus knew there was no chance he and Alec were going to have a real conversation in the midst of all the noise. He nodded at Isabelle and Clary briefly, tilting his head towards the staff area, and waited for a sign of their acknowledgement before slipping away from the rest of the crowd.

He was sure the after-show would be nice, but he had a man to find and kiss until neither of them could breathe. The rest of the world could wait.

***

“I’m sorry.”

Alec spun around faster than ever, letting his trembling fingers fall from his suit jacket as his gaze met Magnus’. The other man was still dressed in his white outfit, looking unfairly beautiful, and Alec shuffled uncomfortably as he tried - and failed - to resist the urge to reach out for Magnus.

He had his lips on Magnus’ less than a second later, sighing contentedly at the familiar feeling. He couldn’t believe he had survived two weeks without it. He kissed Magnus like a starving man, sucking at the other man’s bottom lip in a silent gesture for him to open up, and he was ready, so ready to taste Magnus again, but-

“Hey, Alec, hey,” Magnus pushed him away gently and raised his hand to cover Alec’s mouth. “We can’t do this right now, not yet. I need to… I need to apologise first, alright?”

“You don’t have to-” he started, only to be interrupted by a sharp gesture from Magnus. He snapped his mouth shut and waited for the model to get whatever he needed to off his chest.

“I’m sorry for lying to you,” Magnus continued, stepping closer to Alec and clenching his hands at his side, almost as though staying away was just as hard for him as for Alec. “I’m sorry for keeping things from you, I’m sorry for thinking I couldn’t trust you with my past, and I’m sorry for throwing your own hidden truths back in your face. I know now- I mean- What you did tonight was amazing, and I’m sorry that I took part of it away from you. You deserved to have your moment.”

“And I did,” Alec cut in, hoping his words sounded as genuine as he had meant them to. “I got my moment, Magnus, and I would have gotten it whether you knew about my position earlier or not. The thing is, I was… I was doing it for all the wrong reasons. Clary helped me realise that I couldn’t rely on you all the time, especially not for things that matter as much as this. I wasn’t lying when I said that you pushed me in the right direction, but I did this for myself more than anyone else.”

It had taken him a few days to come to peace with that, but as he stared at Magnus’ lips curl into a proud smile, he knew Clary had been right. He knew getting rid of the reveal just because things between him and Magnus hadn’t worked out would have been a ridiculous idea. Although, on that note…

“That was quite something you did out there,” Alec murmured, biting at his bottom lip as a dark blush overtook Magnus’ features. Alec wasn’t sure he had ever seen the other man so flustered, and he had to admit he didn’t dislike it in the slightest. “I know you’re not exactly a grand gesture kind of person when it comes to romance, so that must have been quite the experience.”

“In a way,” Magnus shrugged, staring intently at Alec. “But you’re a grand gesture kind of guy, so it was all worth the effort. You’re worth the effort, Alexander, no matter how big that effort may be.”

“Magnus…” Alec breathed out, glancing away from the model’s intense gaze and wondering what the protocol was for two people who still loved each other but were no longer together. Was there a proper method to getting back together? Were they supposed to say something? Was Alec supposed to…? “I’m sorry too.”

He blurted the words out before he could overthink his apology. He had worried about finding the right thing to say, but he knew Magnus would be perfectly content with the truth. They were done lying to each other, done changing themselves for the other. If they wanted this to work out, Alec’s apology needed to be completely sincere. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he huffed when Magnus frowned at him confusedly. “Don’t act like you’re the only one to blame here. I know you think you’re the only one who messed up that night, but I was just as wrong as you were, Magnus. I should never have made you feel like you had to tell me everything. Your lie was… it wasn’t the best idea, but it wasn’t as big of a deal as I made it out to be. So I’m sorry for pushing you away at the first sign of trouble.”

“I went behind your back to ask about Clary’s co-designer,” Magnus pointed out, as though he needed to remind Alec of all the things he had done wrong. As though Alec hadn’t thought about them repeatedly over the past few weeks. “To ask about you.”

“You regretted it almost immediately,” Alec countered, knowing both from Isabelle and Magnus himself that the man would have done anything to take his questions back. “Izzy wasn’t the only drunk one that night, and you… You regretted it as soon as she gave you the answer you’d been looking for. I’m not saying what you did was right, but I forgive you. I forgave her, after all. I was never going to stay mad at you, Magnus, I just needed…”

“Time?” Magnus finished for him, smiling knowingly at Alec. “Yeah, I get that. And thank you, for not holding this against me. I mean, I had a feeling that you weren’t angry with me anymore, given what just happened out there, but it’s nice to get confirmation.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, neither of them moving and both of them waiting for the other to do something first. Alec had a feeling they could have stayed like that for hours if it weren’t for his lingering anxiety. He just needed to be certain; he needed to make sure that Magnus had been telling the truth earlier. He needed the man he loved back in his arms.

“I still love you,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving Magnus’. “I don’t think I could have stopped loving you even if I had wanted to. Look, I know we screwed up, alright? I know we proved we’re just like any other couple, capable of fighting and arguing and getting mad at each other, but… But that can’t be reason enough to give up completely, right? I love you, Magnus, and shouldn’t that be enough to try again?”

“We’d have to communicate better,” Magnus started, closing the remaining distance between Alec and him easily.

This time, Alec didn’t hesitate before taking the journalist’s hands in his own, rubbing soothing circles into Magnus’ soft flesh. He let his fingers run up and down Magnus’ arms, let himself enjoy the feeling of Magnus so close to him again, let himself breathe for the first time in weeks.

“No more secrets,” Alec added. “None that matter, at least. If something’s bothering us, we need to talk about it instead of shutting it behind layers and layers of anxious feelings.”

“And most importantly,” Magnus continued, the smirk on his lips tipping Alec off as to the nature of his next request. “You need to keep dedicating entire collections to me. I may have gotten a little bit used to this lifestyle and amount of attention to detail, so I’m not sure I could go back to how things used to be before. If you want to keep me in your life, I’m going to need a lot more clothes.”

“Is that so?” Alec raised his eyebrows, tapping at his chin as though he were truly thinking Magnus’ demand over. “I’m not sure… You see, collections take a lot of work, and I don’t think I could create that many clothes in your honour. Besides, you’d probably just get bored of it all after a while.”

“Objection!” Magnus scoffed, gesturing down at himself with an incredulous stare. “How on earth could I get bored of this, Alexander? This is the proof that you love me enough to use me as your muse, and I’m honestly not sure I could do any better than you after this. You’ve ruined love for me, darling. From now on, I’m going to accept nothing less than grand gestures and artistic declarations of feelings.”

“Thankfully for you, I don’t intend on letting you go any time soon,” Alec hummed softly, letting go of Magnus’ hands and looping his arms around the model’s waist instead, pulling him in until their bodies were pressed together. “You’re going to be stuck with me and my ridiculous gestures of romance for quite a while, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about on that front.”

“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” Magnus breathed out, his words ghosting against Alec’s lips as he leaned in closer, their noses bumping together at the movement. “Who’s to say I want to be stuck with you? A man who paints our love into colours and lets go of his fears to make me happy? How dull.”

Alec pinched the other man’s side and shook his head fondly before giving in to the urge to kiss Magnus again. He covered Magnus’ mouth with his own and swallowed the model’s pleased gasp as their lips slotted together perfectly. God, Alec had missed this. He had missed curling his hands around Magnus and drawing tiny sounds out of the man he loved. He had missed feeling Magnus’ tongue slide against his slowly, turning the both of them into puddles of heat. And more than anything, he had missed Magnus.

Magnus and his perfect eyes, his golden skin that stood out starkly against Alec’s white sheets – or in this case, his sparkling outfit – and his hair’s brightly coloured tips. Magnus and his heart of gold, his sharp mind, and the endless compassion he seemed to have for the people around him. Magnus and the way he looked at Alec like he was the single most important thing in the world.

“I missed you so much,” Magnus whispered against Alec’s lips as they pulled away from each other, panting for air. “God, Alexander, I missed you more than I’ve ever missed anything in my life, and we were only apart for two weeks. How on earth am I going to survive when you have to go abroad for work?”

“We’ll call each other,” Alec answered immediately, not even embarrassed to prove that he had been thinking about their relationship at length, both before and during their break-up. “Just because we’re not always next to each other doesn’t mean we’re not always together, Magnus. If lies weren’t enough to keep us apart, I doubt a country or two will be what ruins things for us. Besides, I only leave a few times a year and I could always take you with me.”

“I certainly wouldn’t say no to taking advantage of the perks having a CEO boyfriend could bring me,” Magnus smirked. Before Alec could say anything else, however, Magnus’ features fell slightly and his eyes filled with uncertainty. “You- You are my boyfriend again, right? I didn’t completely misread this situation, did I?”

“No, Magnus, you didn’t misread the situation,” Alec huffed, pressing a soft kiss to Magnus’ lips again. “Two weeks of being single were more than enough for me. I would be an idiot not to jump on the opportunity to be with you again. I wasn’t kidding when I said that I still love you, Magnus.”

“And I still love you too,” Magnus answered softly, resting his forehead against Alec’s and breathing in deeply. “Now, you should go out there and give the crowd what they really want. It would be bad publicity for the CEO and recently-revealed co-designer of the collection to hide away all night.”

“But I’d much rather be here with you,” Alec pouted, tightening his hold on Magnus when the model tried to step out of his arms. “Can’t they wait a day longer? I’ll still be around tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that…”

“So will I,” Magnus pointed out, snorting when Alec narrowed his eyes at him in the most betrayed manner he could manage. “Seriously, at least go spend time with the team. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to congratulate everyone on a job well done, and I can’t do that if we’re over here declaring our love for each other all over again. Don’t you think we’ve had enough romantic gestures for one evening?”

“There are never enough romantic gestures in the world,” Alec scoffed, but he didn’t protest when Magnus dragged him back out into the crowd, never letting go of the designer’s hand. “I’m still not talking to any journalists, though.”

“Oh, really?” Magnus chuckled, glancing down pointedly at himself. “I was under the impression you didn’t mind talking to me. Or Isabelle, for that matter.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Alec rolled his eyes. “You know exactly what I meant, so please take me to the rest of the team and keep the vultures away from me. I’m not in the mood to deal with interviews, especially not from people who are still reeling from my latest revelation.”

“So… everyone in this room?” Magnus asked slowly, snorting when Alec nodded. “Alright, darling, I will keep you away from everyone who doesn’t work for you. We’re only a few feet away anyways, so I doubt anyone will try to steal you away from me no- Hey, you! I’m sorry, but Alexander isn’t taking any questions or interviews tonight. No, he won’t make an exception for you. Not for you either, ma’am, I’m sorry.”

Alec laughed softly as Magnus sent him a helpless glance, desperately trying to get them through the thick crowd of people even as people tried to grab him left, right, and centre, all too eager to get a piece of Alec. Through it all, Magnus didn’t flinch or cave once, keeping a tight grip on Alec and glaring at anyone who dared touch him. Really, Alec couldn’t have asked for a better bodyguard.

By the time they made it to the rest of the fashion team, everyone had noticed their struggle to get across the room and snickered as they congratulated Magnus on his success.

“Well, that was a night,” Clary grinned, sidling up next to Alec and looping her arm into the crook of his elbow, shooing Magnus away when the journalist sent her a surprised glance. “I need some time with my best friend, lover boy, go talk to Cat and Madzie or something, I’m sure they’ll be delighted to see you again.”

“Very well,” Magnus laughed. “I can tell when I’m unwanted. You should catch up with Madzie once you and Clary are done with your best friend talk, alright? I think she missed you even more than I did, which I didn’t think was possible. And please, for the love of god, stay away from Andrew and his leech of a boyfriend.”

Alec stared at his boyfriend amusedly as he waited for Magnus to finish his little rant, nodding occasionally when the man mentioned a name Alec recognised. Finally, Clary glared at Magnus and physically shoved him away from them, barely giving Alec the time to kiss him softly, whispering a promise that he would see him again later.

“I forgot how annoying the two of you could get,” she curled her lip in distaste as Magnus walked away from them. No matter how disgusted she sounded, Alec knew she was genuinely happy for him – could see it in the way her eyes had lit up when she had first seen Magnus and him walk into the room. “Seriously, there should be a limit of how much PDA two people are allowed to partake in when their friends are around.”

“Sure, Red. We’ll see how Izzy and you do with those limits,” he answered, chuckling when Clary blushed a bright red. “But seriously, who in this team cares about PDA? Aline, Helen, Meliorn, and even Andrew and Emily certainly don’t seem to mind being able to kiss their partners whenever they want to. Besides, we should just be glad we have people to love in our lives. We’re happy, Red, isn’t that enough?”

“Yeah,” Clary breathed out, glancing over at Magnus and Isabelle where the two journalists were discussing something enthusiastically, smiling widely at each other. “It might even be more than enough. How did we get so lucky, huh?”

“I don’t know,” Alec answered honestly, his smile softening when Magnus and Izzy turned to glance at them, both of them waving seductively as they caught Alec and Clary staring. “But who cares? She loves you, Clary, more than she’s ever loved anyone. And you love her too. Maybe that has nothing to do with luck; maybe love is bigger than all of that.”

“Maybe,” Clary hummed. “He loves you too, you know? I’m not sure I’ll ever think he’s good enough for you, but he loves you more than anything in the world. I suppose that’ll have to be enough for me.”

“Good,” Alec laughed fondly. “Because it’s enough for me. Now, was there a reason why you stole me away from my boyfriend, or should we put them out of their misery and join them?”

“I just- I’m proud of you, Alec,” Clary said seriously, turning towards him and staring at him with a small, private smile tugging at her lips. “And I wanted to thank you for being the best partner I could have ever asked for. Thank you for giving me a place to thrive, for believing in me every step of the way, and for loving me all along. Out of everyone I know, you are the one most deserving of love, and I am so glad you found that with Magnus.”

“So am I. And for the record, you’re also the best partner I could have asked for,” Alec said, blinking back tears at his best friend’s words. “Now come on, enough with the sappiness. Izzy and Magnus are waiting for us, and the rest of the team will probably want to take a few pictures of the four of us in all our fabulousness.”

“Undoubtedly,” Clary grinned, eagerly skipping towards her girlfriend and letting Alec trail behind her.

He took his time reaching the rest of the group, looking them all over and feeling his heart speed up at their obvious happiness. He had contributed to that, even if just a little bit, by keeping the promise he had made them months earlier. The spring collection had turned out to be even more memorable than what Alec had planned, and it showed on all of his colleague’s faces.

Even though he knew he would still have to deal with the consequences of his speech, and he was well aware that he and Magnus would have to work on fixing their relationship for a while longer, Alec was happy. He would even go as far as to say he was happier than he had ever been.

The world now knew who he truly was, and he would be a fool not to take advantage of that. No more lies, no more secrets, no more hiding behind other people.

His colours were finally out in the open, and it was time for Alec to shine.

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #fanfic #my writing

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theletterunread · 3 years

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May Day, May Day, May Day

Last May, the world continued to fall apart, as it's been doing for many years – though at a noticeably accelerated pace. The coronavirus dictated everyone's life and kept me mostly in my apartment in Franklin Village, living a life that was just like my normal life, only moreso. I played video games (but for more hours at a time), watched movies (but more than usual), and read books (but longer books, like Ulysses and the last Karl Ove Knausgaard novel, that were too heavy to have carried around and read while commuting). I did a lot of new writing and got a few rejections for some old writing. Just as I had seven years earlier, I began to wish I had a piano – as my apartment’s previous tenant, singer-songwriter Rebecca Black, did – so I could pass my downtime creating something nice.

The May before that, my writing partner and I submitted writing samples through the WGA Staffing System in the hopes of being hired to write for a sitcom. This job board had been set up by the Writer’s Guild to help writers find work without the assistance of their agents, whom the WGA had instructed its members to fire following a dispute with the Association of Talent Agents. My writing partner and I were skeptical that anybody (least of all us) would be hired through this system – we figured staffing decisions would still be determined by Hollywood’s impenetrable cliquishness – but we knew there was nothing to be lost by giving it a try.

On a Thursday, we submitted applications to three shows. Two of them were cancelled by Saturday – almost as if our applications reminded the producers that they still had dead shows to clear out – and we never heard back from the third.

The May before that, a paralegal left the law firm I work at in Downtown LA because he’d found a job closer to his home in Long Beach. My boss took him out to lunch, after which he returned to the office to say his goodbyes. He thanked me for teaching him some filing skills, but I had trouble accepting the gratitude. Even after six years, I still felt like a pretender in the legal world, skeptical that I knew anything teachable.

Later that afternoon, my boss informed the rest of us that, at lunch, the paralegal had asked him, “Do you wanna smoke some weed?” My boss had declined, noting that it was noon on a Wednesday. Our receptionist said that he had recently made the same offer to her. But an associate attorney and I had never been offered the same opportunity even once in the six months we worked with him.

The May before that, my pianist friend passed through LA and we met for lunch in Westwood. He was the first peer whose hair I noticed was going grey. Mine had been turning for a few years already. Good for both of us.

When I returned home, I played The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, an acclaimed game which shares a lot of its DNA with one predecessor in particular: The Wind Waker. I was happy to see that game’s achievements respected by this new installment in the series because I still felt the exact same protectiveness of and identification with The Wind Waker that I had 14 years earlier, no matter that I was getting old and grey.

The May before that, I received a rejection letter from a literary magazine for a short story that I had submitted for publication 14 months earlier. I also received a rejection from a literary agent for a novel I’d written. Neither one upset me too much: the short story because I’d completely forgotten it was out in the world; the novel because the agent sent me back thoughtful notes, and I was touched that anyone would even take the time to read 75,000 words I’d written. Plus, it was easy to brush off literary set-backs. I had just had made my first business trip to Hollywood, and I was confident I’d soon be working as a sitcom writer.

The May before that, I got a sharp pain in my back anytime I breathed in deeply. The internet said it was probably a strain in one of my intercostal muscles, but couldn’t rule out pneumonia or something scarier. Not wanting a repeat of seven years earlier, when I’d ignored ankle pain and wound up in surgery, I visited a doctor. She diagnosed it as a strained intercostal muscle and wrote me a prescription for anti-inflammatories, which I never picked up.

Three days later, my friends and I were sharing interesting quotations over email (Tuesdays we shared poetry, Wednesdays paintings, and Thursdays quotations). The last contribution was from H.P. Lovecraft: “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”

The May before that, my roommates and I threw a party in our apartment. We invited 47 people and just about 47 people showed up. We had a great time until my landlord called me downstairs to show me that our front gate had been broken by one of our guests while departing. I esteemed my landlord so highly that there was little in life I hated more than disappointing him.

By the next morning, my roommates and I had determined who the culprit was, but we weren’t sure whether to ask him to pay up. While we weighed our options, I went to McCarren Park to attend a picnic hosted by a friend of mine from high school. I didn’t know any of the other guests, but I asked them whether, in my situation, they would reach out to the vandal and ask him to pay. They all said it was a tough call.

Ultimately, my roommates and I paid for the gate ourselves, swallowing the repair charge as the cost of hosting guests. As one of my roommates used to say when shrugging off his post-party hangovers, “You gotta pay the piper.”

The May before that, I wanted to resume playing the piano, so I made arrangements to buy an electric keyboard from a man who lived on the Upper East Side. I reached out to my only friend with a car – the same woman to whom I’d lost my virginity four years before – and asked if she would help me haul the equipment back to Bed-Stuy. She agreed on the condition that I would go with her to Rockaway Beach afterwards. Though the beach is my least favorite of all leisure destinations, I said sure and told her where to meet me.

She showed up to the Upper East Side without a car and without any understanding that I had expected her to bring a car. I had forgotten to ask for that, but it wouldn’t have made a difference: she hadn’t been vehicled for two years. I asked why she thought I would request her help with this chore, if not for her ability to bring a car. She asked why I hadn’t mentioned the car in my request, why I assumed she had one even though I had only seen her drive once, two years earlier, and where my gratitude was for her being willing to come out in 90-degree weather to help with such a tedious chore. Her rhetorical questions were better. We lugged the keyboard, its stand, its pedal, and a bunch of cords back to Brooklyn over two subway transfers and then went to the beach, where the temperature was about 40 degrees lower.

Even though the keyboard’s quality was affirmed by my (imminently greying) pianist friend when he came over for one of our parties, it didn’t scratch my itch the way a real piano would have. I kept it for three years until the speakers stopped working.

The May before that, I began working at a law firm in Midtown. I didn’t know how I landed the position, a phenomenon that’s repeated in every job I’ve got – or not got. Despite my supposed knowledge of film and TV, I’ve been turned down for writing jobs and even to work for Blockbuster. But I was hired to work at a venerable firm while knowing absolutely nothing about the law.

Between that respectable job and the largesse of my landlord, letting me live in Shangri-La for $600 per month, I spent my early-to-mid-twenties building unusual financial stability. I didn’t recognize it, though, and those were the years I was most worried about money. In the years before and since, financial anxiety was nothing; my worries were (are) about writing. And tidily, in that middle period, the creative side of life caused no concern.

The May before that, I graduated from NYU. More than any catastrophe I’ve lived through, that event created an atmosphere of the End of Days. Feelings of wistfulness and anxiety about casting off into the unknown were underscored by Collapse Into Now, the new R.E.M. album I was listening to repeatedly. It is a poignant record (though it wouldn’t be identified as such for another four months, it was secretly R.E.M.’s farewell album) but I was in an emotional state to be moved by any music. I couldn’t even join in the culture-wide mocking of Rebecca Black’s “Friday” that was going on; I found her earnestness unbearably touching.

At the end of the month, I moved into my new place in Bed-Stuy. My roommates and I had flipped for the apartment as soon as we saw it, not just because its competition wasn’t fierce – other prospective apartments had rat poison on the floor or 18-inch-high ceilings – but because it was spacious and cheap and distinctive, and because we liked the landlord. (And it went both ways: he told us that he had declined other possible tenants while waiting for our decision because, “I took a shine to you guys.”) And even though it was still a little strange to be sleeping and eating and showering in a new place, and even though a couple of teenagers had shouted at me while I was moving in – using what federal judges now call “racially charged language” – and even though I still had no idea how to shape a life outside of school, I felt better, because I was in My Home.

The May before that, I was finishing up a semester abroad in Ireland. At times during that spring, I compared myself to the freshman I’d been two and a half years earlier. I had been so naïve, so unworldly when I came to New York in 2007. Now, it was 2010 – a modern year, the dawn of a new decade – and I was 20 years old, living across the Atlantic. I had lived long enough to have a past, to have life behind me. I was a real person.

But if I ever had any specific examples of what made “Junior Year Me” more sophisticated than (or even different from) “Freshman Year Me,” I have completely forgotten them now. The two iterations are collapsed into one character in my mind. And when I see the numbers now, 20 as an age is much closer to the two decades before it than to the years that have come since, and 2010 looks like an absurdly miniscule year.

The May before that, I lost my virginity in a college dorm on 14th Street in Manhattan. It happened in the afternoon, after two failed attempts in prior evenings. The school year was winding down – when my girlfriend called to invite me over, I was packing up my dorm room, and when I arrived, her suitemate was in their common room, packing up her things – so there was no more room for error.

I recall looking at a digital clock, but I don’t recall what time it showed. Nor do I remember the weather, though I remember either being pleased that it was raining, or wishing that it were raining. For a redefining moment, it’s awfully hazy. The fog of war. I had to be reminded many, many years later that, after we finished, I offered a dirty joke that was extremely in and out of character: “I was packing boxes in my dorm, and then I came over here to pack boxes.”

Afterwards, I walked back to my dorm in the West Village. My friends and I had plans to watch a marathon of all of the videos we had filmed that year, and we did. It was several years before I told them where I had been earlier that day.

The May before that, I had an MRI on my ankle, which had been hurting for a year. After I left the hospital, I went to Blockbuster to interview for a summer job and absolutely bombed. I may have admitted that I only planned to keep the job until college resumed in September; I certainly volunteered that I knew nothing about high-traffic film genres like action or horror. When asked what movies I might recommend to customers, I offered artsy snoozers like Ed Wood.

Just as well that I was never offered a job, as the MRI showed that I had, “the ankle of a 70-year-old,” and arthroscopic surgery was scheduled. I spent the next two months first in a cast, then in a boot. I passed the summer making videos and uploading them to YouTube, thinking maybe I’d go viral, as I’d been hoping for two years. The most attention I got was from foot fetishists who liked when I showed my casted leg.

The May before that, my high school was shut down on what was supposed to have been my last real day of senior year. An AP Spanish Literature test and a band concert were scheduled for the day, after which I had no more obligations. But cafeteria workers coming in early in the morning spotted two masked men creeping through a hallway. The workers called the cops, the masked men fled, and the bomb squad was called in. School was closed for the day.

Had there been a bomb, this might be a disaster story known to lots of people of my generation. But there was no bomb, and it’s a story that even I forget most of the time. The general consensus was that the masked men were just students coming in early to set up some departing-senior stunt. They were never identified, though I was confident I knew who they were.

My test and my concert were rescheduled, so I had to keep going to school. The morning of the makeup AP exam, I told one of my classmates that I couldn’t help but wish we had been able to wrap up high school the week before, as anticipated. She cut me off and said, “You can’t even think about that.”

The May before that, YouTube penetrated mass consciousness. The notion of “going viral” was not known to us then, but it was still obvious how well the site could facilitate the spread of good work. I was certain that the videos my friends and I were making could be successful on there. We had so many funny ideas, it was inconceivable that not a single one of them would catch fire. Maybe not immediately, but it couldn’t take forever.

The May before that, Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith premiered. I disliked the previous movie, had forgotten the one before that, and was totally agnostic about the original trilogy, yet I convinced myself to be excited for this one: This is how a person interested in film should feel. My mom and I made plans to go as a treat after an afternoon laboring in the garden, and I invited a friend to come along.

My friend called back later in the day to ask if he could bring another kid from school to the movie. This other kid and I wound up growing closer in the last years of high school, but at the time, I still found him mean and unpredictable. I worried that he might laugh at me for still going to the movies with my mom, or worse, that he would act up in some distasteful way in front of her. My parents weren’t overly sensitive, but I was still haunted by a memory from a birthday party three years before: this kid seriously tasking my dad by telling an awful dirty joke. ("How do you circumcise a redneck?")

I lied to my friend and told him that the trip to the movies had been cancelled. Then I lied to my mom and told her that my friend had decided not to come. At the movie theater, I kept looking over my shoulder, worried that my friend might decide to come anyway (maybe even with the other kid), and I’d be caught. He didn’t, and the next day he asked if I still wanted to see the movie with him, so I watched Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith twice in two days.

The May before that, in Downtown LA (only a mile from the law firm where I’d be working 13 years later), Nintendo had a very successful presentation at the annual Electronic Entertainment Expo. At a time when its public reputation was shaky, Nintendo blew the roof off the Los Angeles Convention Center with a showcase of a new handheld, a new spokesman, and a new Legend of Zelda game. The previous entry, The Wind Waker, had drawn a lot of attention (mostly condemnation gradually giving way to praise) for its colorful, cel-shaded art style. This new game looked more subdued, realistic, and – in the parlance of the times – mature.

While I was excited by the new entry, I felt sad that it appeared to be such a blatant rejection of The Wind Waker, a game I had been defending against adolescent smears since before its release, a game I thought had proven itself to be a masterpiece. Yet here was Nintendo itself surrendering to the backlash and giving the haters exactly what they demanded. That wasn’t how the world was supposed to work, and I felt that I had been hung out to dry. These feelings were still with me more than a decade later when Breath of the Wild came along to close the circle.

The May before that, a blizzard hit Colorado. It was a spring snow, very wet and heavy, and it destroyed the plants that my mom had been adding to the yard since we moved in. She was in the house with my newborn brother, so my dad and I shoveled the walk. It was hard, slushy work, but I greatly preferred it to the lawn jobs and gardening I’d been doing over the preceding year. A private yard was supposedly one of the pleasures of living in a house rather than the apartments and condos we’d previously had, but it wasn’t worth the work that went into it. Visiting a public park or walking around the neighborhood was much more fun than sitting on your own boring lawn.

It wasn’t anything that would be relevant for eight years, and it wasn’t anything I was conscious of for longer than that, but I was developing a sense of what I dreamed would be My Home.

The May before that, my family was newly installed in our first house. Our old condo had been bought by a guy who ran an outdoor cinema over the summers, and he had given us three free passes. I went with two friends to see the second screening of the season, Airplane!

Before the show, one of my friends mentioned that he was going to be working that summer at his dad’s restaurant, and the other said he had been given a spot at his uncle’s factory (it made insulated water bottles). I felt left out, and wished that I could get work too. I wondered if there was a way I could leverage my knowing the man who ran the outdoor cinema into a job.

I remember that longing, yet I don’t remember how, two years later, I came to be working at the outdoor cinema. I have no record of who talked to whom and said what to get me that gig, the first of many positions I would get without knowing how. The job stayed on my resume until I went to work for the law firm in Midtown, but I’m not sure how useful it was. It wasn’t enough to get me in the fucking door at Blockbuster.

The May before that, R.E.M. released its 12th studio album, Reveal. I heard its lead single, “Imitation of Life,” while leaving the Albuquerque airport in a rented car, and was entranced. When we got back to Boulder, I asked my parents to buy a copy of the CD, beginning a fandom that hadn’t abated ten years later when I was listening to Collapse Into Now.

Four months after Reveal was released, the U.S was hit by the September 11th attacks, the first calamity of my life. I’ve never since looked at a copy of Reveal without thinking, “That was from the world before 9/11.” Directionless. And my ability to draw meaning from the eternal return has advanced no further.

#memoir #R.E.M.#zelda #coronavirus #tv writing #law firm #brooklyn #party #loss of virginity #piano #bomb threat #graduation #star wars #injuries #rebecca black

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 years

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* * * *

It’s very strange to think of Joe Biden as a world-historical figure. For decades, he seemed to me to be a bit of an irritating blowhard who rarely took the chance to edit himself. He was a classic slap-on-the-back backroom pol, with an everyman-on-the-train vibe, who loved the ornaments of public office, and that was basically it.

Washington will always need people like Biden, and he played the part well, but he was hardly a star. He rarely inspired, he made cringe-inducing gaffe after gaffe, his vanity required him to cover up his baldness with what, for a while, looked like a painful rice-paddy of plugs, he plagiarized a speech so obviously and crudely he almost begged to be caught, and despite his rep for retail politics, was terrible at campaigning for president. In 2008, he quit after Iowa, with one percent of the vote.

His big moment came when Barack Obama picked him as his veep. And the choice of Biden was specifically designed, it seems to me, to ruffle no more feathers, and to assuage white working-class discomfort with a young, inexperienced black guy with a funny, foreign-sounding name. Even at the time, it felt to me that Biden’s acceptance speech was fine but not exactly great — but what worked nonetheless was his persona: “It’s hard not to feel affection for this scrappy old guy — especially if you’re a Catholic,” I wrote. “This was a very culturally Catholic speech, especially at the beginning, and Biden will speak to people who might be leery of this young African-American. It was also focused on middle class economic anxiety and spoke about it in intimate ways that voters will immediately understand.”

Twelve years later, this guy is even older and less scrappy but still has the same core appeal: that old Irish dude who can go on a bit but has a heart of gold and hasn’t completely disappeared into the left-liberal elite. The drastically curtailed Covid campaign was a godsend in retrospect because it removed countless opportunities for him to get in his own way, while very successfully projecting and burnishing this image. Yes he could get a bit Abraham-Simpson-y at times, but I confess I began to find that a little comforting after a while, in the era of Trump. The combination of decency, vulnerability and humanness became even more potent up against an indecent, inhuman con-man. It became the stutterer versus the monster.

And Biden’s core appeal, as he has occasionally insisted, is that he ran against the Democratic left, and won because of moderate and older black voters with their heads screwed on right. He was the least online candidate. For race-leftists like Jamelle Bouie, he was part of the problem: “For decades Biden gave liberal cover to white backlash.” For gender-warriors like Rebecca Traister, he was “a comforter of patriarchal impulses toward controlling women’s bodies.” Ben Smith a year and a half ago went for it: “His campaign is stumbling toward launch with all the hallmarks of a Jeb!-level catastrophe — a path that leads straight down … Joe Biden isn’t going to emerge from the 2020 campaign as the nominee. You already knew that.” The sheer smug of it! And the joy of seeing old Joe get the last laugh.

It’s worth recalling the obloquy the woke dumped on Biden in the early stages of the race because this will surely be a battle line if he wins the presidency, and we will have to fight for him and against them if we are not going to sink into deeper tribal warfare. He is one of the last vestiges of the near-extinct rapport between white working-class voters and the Democrats, and if he wins next week, it will be because he has wrested older white voters from the Republican grip, and won white women in a landslide (unlike Clinton), even as his support among blacks and Latinos may come in slightly behind Hillary’s.

Biden ran a campaign, in stark contrast to Clinton’s, focused not on rallying the base around identity grievances, but on persuading the other side with argument and engagement. If you believe in liberal democracy — in persuasion, dialogue, and civility — and want to resist tribalism, Biden may be our unexpected but real last chance. And in this campaign, he has walked the walk.

His core message, which has been remarkably consistent, is not a divisive or partisan one. It is neither angry nor bitter. Despite mockery and scorn from some understandably embittered partisans, he has a hand still held out if Republicans want to cooperate. In this speech at Warm Springs, where Biden invoked the legacy of FDR, you can feel the Obama vibe, so alien to the woke: “Red states, blue states, Republicans, Democrats, Conservatives, and Liberals. I believe from the bottom of my heart, we can do it. People ask me, why are you so confident Joe? Because we are the United States of America.”

And while he has promised a deep re-structuring and redistribution in the wake of Covid, climate change, and destabilizing inequality, he has done so in pragmatic, rather than ideological, terms. Against the surreal extremism and divisiveness of Trump, he has offered moderation and an appeal to unity. Look at the careful balance he has struck on the protests against police misconduct this summer: “Some of it is just senseless burning and looting and violence that can’t be tolerated and won’t, but much of it is a cry for justice from a community that’s long had a knee of injustice on their neck.” We need both these impulses, if we are to extract real reform from distorting rage, and make it stick.

He is not perfect, of course. I suspect he is naive on some questions. He realizes, does he not, that when he uses the term “equity” rather than “equality”, with respect to race, he is using code for the crudest racial discrimination. He surely knows that critical race theory is not about being sensitive to the pain of others, but about seeing the U.S. as no less a white supremacy now than under slavery, and liberal constitutionalism as a mere mask for oppression of non-whites. He knows that the Equality Act eviscerates the religious freedom he has previously championed, does he not, and folds the category of sex into one of gender, jeopardizing at the margins both gay and women’s rights? And it should be troubling, it seems to me, that, when confronted with the fact that his son, Hunter, is corrupt in the classic, legal, and swampy way, Biden refuses to see anything wrong with it at all.

But these are quibbles in the grand scheme of things. And it is striking, as David Brooks noted this morning, how deftly Biden has walked through a field of culture war landmines and not see one go off. That has taken discipline — and Biden has shown that he can exercise it. Maybe he learned it from Obama.

His closing message has been about healing — from the wounds of Covid, economic crisis, and resilient racism. And if there is one thing Biden really knows in his heart and soul it is healing. Recovering from the loss of a wife, a daughter and a son requires a profound sense of how to take the hits that life can bring, how to stay strong while accepting vulnerability, and how to move slowly forward.

This is how he put it last week, as he related to the isolating, desolating casualties of Covid19: “Alone in a hospital room, alone in a nursing home, no family, no friends, no loved ones beside them in those final moments, and it haunts so many of the surviving families, families who were never given a chance to say goodbye. I, and many of you know, what loss feels like when you lose someone you love, you feel that deep black hole opening up on your chest and you feel like you’re being swallowed into it.”

I have felt that way for four years now. What I grieve is an idea of America that is decent, generous, big-hearted, and pragmatic, where the identity of a citizen, unqualified, unhyphenated, is the only identity you need. I miss a public discourse where a president takes responsibility even for things beyond his full control, where the fault-lines of history are not mined for ammunition but for greater understanding, where, in Biden’s words, we can once again see the dignity in each other. I am not a fool, and know how hard this will be. But in this old man, with his muscle memory of what we have lost, and his ability to move and change in new ways, we have an unexpected gift.

“I’ve long said the story of America is a story of ordinary people doing extraordinary things,” Joe Biden said last week. Well, ordinary old Joe, it’s your turn now. Do the extraordinary.

ANDREW SULLIVAN

THE WEEKLY DISH

#corrupt GOP #election 2020 #political #Joe Biden

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swimmingnewsie · 4 years

Text

Of Coffee and Cookies (Chapter 15)

TW: Mental Health Crisis. Please take care of self.

Love you all!

Link to AO3

---

“I know she means well, but sometimes it feels like she’s smothering me. I can take care of myself. I did it for five years. I'm not fragile." Anna sighed. She needed this session. Knowing that her therapist wasn't there to make her feel bad about what she was feeling helped immensely. Her feelings were still intense, but with the therapist, processing them wasn't as scary. She was allowed to feel everything, even the bad thoughts.

"And have you talked to your sister about that?"

Anna shook her head. “I don’t want to upset her. She’s done so much to help me and I don’t want to make her mad at me.”

Her therapist gave her that damned head tilt. She knew it was her way of indicating that Anna was having a distorted thought, but Anna couldn’t but feel as if she were in trouble in some way. “Why do you think you’ll upset her?”

Her eyes scrunched up, and she bit her lip nervously. “Because she’s doing things. She’s being so kind and caring, and I don’t want to ruin that.”

“And do you think that telling your sister you’re upset will stop her from helping you?” Anna sighed. She hated this part of therapy. It just seemed like they were talking in circles. Of course she thought Elsa would be upset for denying her kindness. Her sister could be explosive at times when they were younger. Granted it was a side effect of years of untreated anxiety and mood disorders. But that fear always lingered, even if her sister hadn’t had an explosive episode in years. Anna was not prepared to be the reason she went off.

“I do.”

“What is your main fear of telling her?”

She felt a chill run down her spine. "That she wouldn't want me around anymore. Call me ungrateful and make me feel guilty."

Her therapist nodded, writing a note on her legal pad. It always made Anna feel off when her therapist wrote in that stupid pad. “How else might she react if you told her?”

Anna shrugged, “I don’t know. Ignore me? Give me a cold shoulder?” Blow up completely in her face?

“Perhaps,” her therapist said. “Do you remember when I told you about the negative attribution bias?”

Her mind raced. The phrase was familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. “Kind of?”

“It makes you think the worst in people and that any situation will turn out badly.” she said, tweaking her glasses. “It’s very common in people with post-traumatic stress disorder.”

Post-traumatic stress disorder? She wasn’t a veteran. She couldn’t have that.

“I know you don’t like talking about labels, but it’s something that might help you understand it better. It’s a protective mechanism. It’s isn’t necessarily good or bad, but if you can identify it, then you might be able to use it to help yourself.

“He left an impact on you, Anna. And it’s okay that you’re still feeling those impacts. I know it’s hard to talk about, but it’s something to keep in mind when you have these kinds of thoughts.”

Anna took a deep breath, feeling anger building in her. She hated this so much. Hans wasn’t even here he still was ruining her. When she was younger, she was the eternal optimist, the embodiment of happiness. She had lost so much, but she thought that at least that was still in tact. But she knew it was a delusion.

He had taken that too.

“What’s going through your mind? What are you feeling?” the therapist asked after letting the silence linger a moment.

“I feel angry,” she replied, eyes squinted closed. “He takes and he takes and he takes. And I can’t get rid of him, no matter what I try. And I know Elsa isn’t Hans, but I can’t help but think everyone will react like he does and I can’t stop it. I can’t stop it.”

Tears fell down her face. It wasn’t uncommon for her to cry in therapy, but she still didn’t like the feeling of laying her soul out in the open. It felt like physical pain, her heart raw and hurting.

“He changed you, that’s true. All relationships change people, Miss Anna. But not all change is negative. Do you think you can think of something positive that has come from this fallout?”

The change in pace helped to redirect her mind. Good things. Positive things. “I got to reconnect with Elsa since Mom and Dad.”

Her therapist nodded. “You did. What else?”

It took her a little longer to think. “I have more friends. I have a job. I have my own money.”

“And do you think those are bad things because they came about because of him?”

Anna shook her head. She wouldn’t give up her relationships with Elsa and Maren and Ryder and Kristoff for anything. Even though her job was giving her troubles, she could buy things on her own. She didn’t need permission to do the things she wanted. It was nice.

“You don’t have to be afraid of your sister, Anna. From what you’ve told me, it sounds like she’s doing what she thinks is helpful for you. I think she is reasonable enough to listen to what you’re telling her and work with you to do something that is helpful for you.”

Anna felt her breath slow. Her therapist was right. Her sister may get upset, but it wasn't the same as when Hans got upset. Elsa would listen to her where Hans would belittle her. "I think you're right."

Her therapist nodded before shifting in her seat and putting down her legal pad. "Now before we close out our session, let's talk about your homework for the week."

Anna nodded, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. Though it was a normal part of their process, homework still made her uncomfortable at times. Goal setting was good- every self help book she had been reading told her so- but sometimes it just made her feel set up for failure when the days were hard.

“I know homework has been tough the last few weeks. What do you think feels like a manageable goal for this week?”

Anna’s eyes perked up. Choosing something for herself might make it a little easier, rather than piecing together the crumbs her therapist had probably been leaving through the session that she hadn’t been picking up on. “Hmmm,” she hummed thinking.

What could she do? She could do anything right? The idea of limitless possibilities was a little scary. But she had to do something. “I don’t really know,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Well,” her therapist started, looking to the ground with a calculated look on her face. “You said that you’ve been reading self help books again, yes?”

Anna nodded. It wasn’t much, but it was something that she felt she could do between sessions to feel a little less alone. But if she was already doing it, then why would she have that be her homework for the coming weeks?

“Those books tend to have little goals etched in them to help people feel better. Can you think of any tips from the book that you’ve wanted to try out?”

“Running.”

The word slipped out of her mouth before she even had time to think. She hadn’t been running since she was on track in high school. She almost had a scholarship, but after Hans, that all fell by the wayside. She missed the feeling of the wind in her hair, the ache in her legs. The all too real runner’s high. It made her feel good.

“That sounds like a great step. Now let’s make it a concrete goal. The next right thing.”

Anna gave a small smile. The next right thing indeed.

---

A few days later, Anna found herself huffing to run out of her apartment. Elsa had been intense the last few days. Her sister was clearly stressed over work, but was still trying to hover over Anna and make sure she wasn’t on the verge of a panic attack. It was unsettling.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? I promise I have time if you don’t want to go alone.”

Anna rolled her eyes, shifting her hold arm band into place. “Elsa, I’m not going to die if I’m away from you for one second, I swear.”

“I know that, but-”

“Do you?” Anna interrupted, feeling a surge of anger and discontent. It was uncomfortable, but she needed to let it out. “I’m not a child, Elsa! I can manage a walk by myself. I swear, you can be so- so- insufferable sometimes!” She could see the hurt in her sister’s eyes, but couldn’t feel the pang of guilt underneath the relief of letting go of her emotions.

“I- I’m sorry. Go for your walk. I’ll see you later.”

Her anger had ended just as quickly as it had started. Anna’s eyes softened. “No, Elsa I’m sorry. I-”

“No. You don’t have to apologize,” she said a bit dejectedly. “Just go for your run. I’ll be here when you get back.”

“El-”

“Go.”

Anna huffed running out the door. That had gone about as swimmingly as she had hoped it would. She secured her keys and phone before heading out into the early spring afternoon.

It was the perfect day for her running experiment. It was a bit cool out, but not cold. The sun felt nice on her face, warm and comforting. She picked up an easy pace, easing her body back into the familiar motions. And though it had been almost five years since she ran, it felt as though it had been but a day.

The comfort was short lived however. Her mind wandered as she went down streets and avenues. Worries about her words with Elsa filled her thoughts. It wasn’t so much a fight as a squabble, but she knew it had affected her sister. This time was meant to be for her, though, not to worry about her sister. So, she pushed the thoughts from her mind and worked to enjoy herself, not exactly paying attention to her surroundings.

Until something- or rather someone- ran into her.

Anna yelped in pain, caught off guard by the sudden movement. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry! Sorry! Are you okay?”

A woman with spiked mutli-colored hair did her best to pick the two of them up. Anna would have sworn she was also running if not for the fact she practically jumped into Anna.

"I've been better," Anna said dusting herself off. "What are you in such a rush for? You training for a marathon or something?"

"Or something," she smiled. "Ever heard of parkour?"

Anna nodded and gave a slight tilt of her head. She didn't realize people actually did that anymore. Not seriously anyway. "Yeah. But why are you doing it?"

The woman laughed. "The university sponsors a class in the park for it. I figured it could up my mail carrier game."

Anna smiled herself. "A parkouring mailwoman? Now that's something you don't hear everyday."

"Person." they corrected. "Mail person. I'm non-binary."

Anna felt the blood rush to her face. Oh god, she didn't mean to make this person uncomfortable. Why couldnt she keep her stupid mouth shut? "I'm sorry, I-"

They waved her off. "It's okay happens all the time. I'm Gale. How about you?"

She let go of a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "Anna," she said with a warm smile.

"Well, Anna, perhaps you would want to try out the parkour class? Seems like something for a fast runner like you," they teased.

Anna tried to think of a million reasons to say no. She would be late for an appointment. Elsa would get worried. She would miss her shift. But something silenced those thoughts.

"I think that sounds incredible."

---

"It was incredible, Maren! I've never felt anything like it."

Anna's grin hadn't left her face since she did her first tuck and roll. Parkour was exhilarating. It combined the high energy she loved about running, but also let her feel like a little kid again swinging and flowing through the park. She took a quick bite of her frozen yogurt, trying to both enjoy the treat but also ride the high of telling her friends.

It was a nice tradition they had, getting some kind of frozen treat every week. She truly did enjoy spending time with Honeymaren. Especially after everything that had taken place in Denver, she had found a true friend in her sister’s girlfriend. And her sister’s girlfriend’s brother.

“And Ryder, you would absolutely love it. It’s the thrill of climbing trees on steroids.”

Ryder smiled at her, laughing. “I’ve done it a few times at this obstacle gym. If I had known that you would be into it we could have gone a long while ago.”

Anna puffed out her cheeks. “You’ve been parkouring before and you never told me?” she teased.

Maren gave a slight smile. “Probably because he falls more than he runs and jumps over things.”

“I do not!” he laughed, swatting at his sister’s arm. “I just- I just like to test gravity every once in a while. That’s all.”

“Sounds a lot like falling to me, baby brother,” she teased.

“First off, that’s not correct and you know it. And second what if I am falling? It’s all about the momentum, baby.”

Maren shoved her brother. “Yeah yeah, you big goof.”

Anna smiled watching the siblings banter with one another. She sighed, getting lost in thought again. She hoped she and Elsa would be okay when they were both home. Elsa was currently in her own therapy session for the week. Afterwards, they would probably both be calm enough to deal with their little squabble.

She felt her phone vibrating. That was probably Elsa there, calling for her ride home.

“Hi, Elsa. Are you ready to go?”

“Miss Arendelle, this is Julia from Berkeley Behavioral Health. Do you have a moment?”

---

Anna sped the entire way home. Julia from Berekley told her that her sister had missed her appointment two weeks in a row, and that they wanted to check up on her after some things she had mentioned in session. Damned confidentiality left Anna fearing the worst. Maren was also incredibly worried, coming with her without a moment’s hesitation. At least Anna wasn’t alone in whatever she was about to face. She knew her sister’s past better than anyone. And the thought terrified her.

“Elsa?”

Tentatively, Anna walked into the apartment, doing her best not to startle her sister.. But that quietness proved unnecessary as she entered the living room.

Elsa was lying on the floor curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth as harsh sobs came from her chest. Papers and books were strung about the room, her laptop lay haphazardly on the couch as if it could give her any answers to whatever her problems were. “I can’t- I can’t do this.”

She kept repeating it over and over again.

“Elsa. Elsa.” Anna ran towards her sister, careful to be close but not touch. Elsa was incredibly sensitive to all sensation at times like this. Anxiety attacks were one thing, but she had never seen her sister this broken before. She had no idea what might happen if she tried to hug her without asking, no matter how much she wanted to wrap her sister up and protect her from whatever had her hurting so bad.

“Anna?” She looked up wearily. Her eyes were bloodshot, makeup worn away from tears exposed just how tired her sister was. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She reached out her arms, grabbing onto her sister into a tight hug.

“You’re okay, Elsie. You’re okay,” she said, trying to keep her own tears from falling. Her sister needed her, even if she was scared out of her mind. Anna looked over to Maren, who was just as terrified as she was.

Her sister was too inconsolable. And if Elsa’s therapist was concerned enough to call her emergency contact, something was seriously up. They needed help, even if Elsa would resist. “Else, do you think you can come with me and go see Julia?”

“No, no!” Elsa shrieked. “They’re- they’re gonna lock me up. I don’t- I don’t wanna go.”

Anna shook her head. “They aren’t gonna lock you up, sissy. Remember? They only do that if they think you’re at risk, remember what you told me?”

“Risk to self, risk to others,” Elsa said, a bit quieter than before. “But, but I am. I’m a monster.”

“No, no,” she shushed. “Not a monster. Upset, yes. Anxious, yes. But never a monster, sissy.” Anna locked eyes with Maren, mouthing to get her phone. “It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay, you’ll see. We’re just going to talk with Julia, do what we can to help you settle, okay?”

Elsa cried harder, rocking back and forth. “Don’t let them take me away.”

Anna’s heart broke. “I won’t let them. I promise.”

Elsa didn’t argue her words, giving her full trust to Anna it seemed. She made a promise, and damn it she was going to keep it come hell or high water. They would go to the crisis counseling center and it would all be better. They would come home, and they would be safe, and all this would be over.

At least she could hope.

#frozen #frozen fanfic #tw: mental health crisis #snow sisters #elsamaren #my fic

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enragedbees · 5 years

Text

Does He Make You Happy?

Updates Saturdays 6pm EST!

Pairing: Logicality with an opportunity for side Prinxiety

Summary: Four years after their harsh breakup, Logan and Patton reunite and reflect on their past.

Warnings: dissociation, breakup (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Words: 2540

Song rec: Dangerously by Charlie Puth (This is where I’ll suggest a song that may have influenced or inspired a scene or chapter. There’s no obligation here, but it’s available if you want it!)

A huge thanks to @prince-dark-and-stormy-night for letting me expand upon their oneshot and to @xionbean for being my beta reader!!

Taglist: @xxpeach-bobaxx @starwarsdestroyedme

Any feedback is appreciated! :)

——————————————-

Chapter 1: There’s No Forgetting You

Logan had stopped feeling the seasons changing.

For months, he had wasted far too much time and effort on doing things that made him happy. Eventually, he realized that whatever he did had no impact on his emotions or general well-being, so there was no point in spending his already limited schedule reaching for fleeting moments of happiness. Logan’s emotions, while muted, still came and went based on his accomplishments and mindset. It was a simple cause and effect, and there was no point in messing with that system. In a way, it freed him. Without having to worry about scheduling social engagements or alone time, he could pour all his effort into his work.

It wasn’t that he left behind a part of himself in that apartment so long ago, he so often repeated over and over again, lying in bed throughout the night, eyes wide open. It wasn’t that he was broken and couldn’t mend the shattered pieces. He was still his own person.

It was just the product of a devastating loss he could never fully process.

After spending so much time with someone, Logan recognized that many of the things he repeatedly experienced were inextricably intertwined with his memories. That it was easier to block out the things that caused him pain than to remember them and feel his heart breaking all over again.

The petrichor after a spring shower was the first time they met. The color and smell of fallen autumn leaves were the same as the day when they found their perfect apartment. There were even some foods Logan could no longer eat without seeing through the eyes of his past self. So he trained himself to stop feeling. Every time he ran into something that triggered a memory soaked in melancholia, Logan pushed it out of his mind and focused on something else. Usually, it was work. Usually, it worked.

It took awhile, but eventually Logan stopped noticing the painful memories altogether, therefore no longer noticing things like the changing of seasons or the colors of the sky. The warm summer wind that brushed over him as he walked out of his local Starbucks might as well not have blown at all. The coffee in his hand was almost certainly made incorrectly. It didn’t matter.

Logan walked down the street toward his apartment. At 4 o’clock on the Sunday before the last week of school, downtown was flooded with high schoolers desperate for a glimpse of what their summer nights would be like in just a few short days. A few of Logan’s students from the past year waved at him from outside the frozen yogurt shop. He smiled and politely waved back, then reminded himself to finish grading the final exams from their class when he got home.

Logan lost himself in his thoughts, which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. He wrote a mental list of everything he had to do by the end of the day and the week, and what to put in place before school ended so setting up for the beginning of next year went smoothly.

“Logan?”

The sudden awakening from his autopilot stroll home startled him. He turned towards where he had heard whoever wanted to get his attention, and his stomach flipped and his mouth opened.

A shorter man with chestnut hair stood in front of him. He wore the same black hipster glasses as Logan and a striped blue T-shirt. As Logan met his gaze, he saw the other’s eyes brighten and the corners of his mouth turn up.

And all at once, Logan’s barrier shattered, and all his feelings came flooding back.

~8 years earlier~

Logan usually loved the rain. It was always a calming presence, a quick way to wash off any doubts or anxieties. The sky greyed and the air went cold and sweet the morning of his first day at a new job in a brand new city and Logan thought it was a good sign.

He didn’t realize it would make navigating the already confusing city even more difficult.

Fresh out of college with a degree in elementary education, Logan wandered downtown with a less than helpful map on his phone, sipping a bland coffee for the caffeine. He thought that the community center he’d be tutoring a small class in was a short walk from his new apartment, but he was on the street it was supposed to be located and couldn’t see anything telling.

Logan sighed in exasperation. Staring at his phone, he wheeled around, and immediately slammed into another person walking out of the coffee shop. They both dropped their drinks and they splattered everywhere.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Logan tried to help pick up the mess as the other also apologized profusely. The stranger shuffled some papers and filed them away in his bag as Logan picked up and wiped off his coffee-speckled glasses.

“Let me buy you another drink,” the two said in unison. They looked up at each other and laughed sheepishly.

“Or we could both just get ours again,” offered the other, eyes shining and smile effortless. Logan was suddenly very aware of the coffee all over his jacket and the dark circles inevitably underneath his eyes. He smiled back, his face flushing a little, and tried to mess with his hair.

“I promise I’m usually more aware of my surroundings,” Logan said, handing the stranger the last of his dampened papers. “I’m just having some trouble navigating this labyrinth of a city.”

The other laughed again, and Logan couldn’t help but catch the contagious positivity this man seemed to constantly carry. “Yeah, I’ve lived here my whole life, and if you don’t know already know how to get around you’re basically screwed. If you need some help, I can point you in the right direction.”

Logan didn’t like to ask for help. But he wanted to spend even a little more time with the stranger. He also really had no idea what he was doing, and knew that he’d never get to where he needed to be without some assistance.

“Actually, that would be greatly appreciated. Thank you.”

“No problem!” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Patton, by the way.”

Logan shook Patton’s hand. “Logan Schlenke.”

“So, Logan, where are you headed?” Patton asked as they both walked back into the coffee shop and got in line.

Logan looked down at his phone. “I’m trying to get to the Brighton Community Center on 3rd Street. I’ve been up and down this street, but the buildings start at 400 and the center is supposed to be 56.”

Patton nodded in understanding. “Yeah, it’s on the other 3rd Street.”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“The courthouse splits the street in two, but instead of renaming the pieces into East 3rd and West 3rd, they kept two separate roads with the same name,” explained Patton.

“That seems unnecessarily complicated. Wouldn’t it have saved time and effort to rename the streets?”

“You would think.” Patton picked up his coffee. “Anyway, you’re just on the wrong 3rd.”

“I’m supposed to tutor a class there in half an hour! How far away is it?” Logan’s mind started churning, trying to come up with adjustments to the plan he had carefully crafted for the day.

“No worries, it’s about a 15 minute walk from here. I’m actually headed that way myself, I can walk you there if you’d like,” Patton said, holding the door open.

Logan’s heart skipped a beat. “I would appreciate that. Knowing myself, I’d just get lost again.”

Patton chuckled. “You can’t miss it. It’s a straight shot from here.”

“That’s never really been my strong suit, either.”

Patton laughed again, really laughed. Head back, eyes closed, and Logan flushed with pride, knowing that Patton’s laughter was because of him. They talked easily the whole walk, and when Logan reached his destination, they exchanged numbers.

“Just in case you have any more navigation troubles,” Patton explained.

They both knew it wouldn’t be used just for navigation help.

After that, they were inseparable. Nobody really expected it to last long, least of all the two of them. From the outside, it was an interim relationship; someone to vent to after a long day, to bring as dates to other people’s weddings. But as one year passed, then two, they continued strong.

Logan’s friends would say that he was happiest when Patton was around. Friends of Patton would say Logan brought the best out of him. Even though they seemed to be complete opposites, they fit together naturally and comfortably.

Logan had wondered many times over if the situation would have changed had they taken their bond more seriously when they first met. If they hadn’t dismissed their differences as opposites attracting, if they had taken action to resolve the conflictions early on or if they had decided to part ways earlier, if they made sure they wanted the same things out of their futures. If.

If only.

Logan would talk about the different apartments, homes, condos he could inhabit in big cities across the country, and Patton never even thought to mention wanting to stay put and live close to his family. Patton would mention how he’d raise his future kids and Logan only thought about how much easier it would be for him when he didn’t have to deal with taking care of children.

But when they realized they couldn’t fit into each other’s envisioned futures, it was too late. They were both too far gone.

Logan tried to ignore it. Still, there was this constant nagging voice in the back of his head, telling him that the longer he put off dealing with their problems, the harder it would hit when they inevitably came to it.

It wasn’t until Logan saw it start to affect Patton that he knew he had to get out. He couldn’t stand seeing Patton so unhappy. Logan knew what Patton wanted, and he would never take away an opportunity for him to have it. And since Logan wasn’t willing to give up what he wanted, he knew the only way to give them both a chance at happiness was to remove himself from the equation.

So, when Patton was out of the apartment for the day, Logan took out two suitcases and started packing. He wrote a note explaining everything to Patton and left it in the kitchen. He decided to leave quickly, quietly, and cleanly. Rip off the Band-Aid. It was the option that would hurt the least.

Or it would have been, had Patton not come home early.

Logan stacked his immaculately folded clothes into his suitcase. His heart was pounding, but he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He hadn’t heard the front door open, so he jumped when Patton burst into the room, holding the note from the kitchen.

A beat passed as they locked eyes. Logan stared at him like a deer in headlights, trying not to shrivel up at the worry, betrayal, and unfallen tears in his gaze.

Patton was the first to break the silence. “You’re leaving and you’re telling me with a note? You’re not even going to break up with me in person?”

Logan tore himself away from Patton’s stare and gathered up the last of his clothes. “It was the easiest way to do this.”

“It’s not the easy way, it’s the cowardly way! Logan, why are you leaving?!”

Logan bit his lip as tears welled in his eyes. He couldn’t break now, because if he broke in front of Patton he’d convince him to stay.

And Logan wouldn’t do that to Patton.

“This isn’t going to work. We’ve ignored our differences for too long. We never should have let it go this far.” Logan tried not to be too harsh, but if Patton hated him a little bit afterwards, maybe he wouldn’t miss Logan so much.

“What do you mean it isn’t going to work?” Patton asked, his first tear falling. “We’ve made it work for four years!”

“And we can’t go much longer!” Logan put his head back. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. “We want different things. We can’t keep pretending like we’ll stay happy forever when we don’t envision the same future.”

Patton now had his arms wrapped around himself, tears streaming down his face. “Logan, please –“

“You want a big wedding, this huge celebration with all your friends and family, and I want a small, intimate ceremony! You want a house full of pets, and I only think I could handle a cat, but you’re allergic! You want to stay here so you can be close to your family and I want to travel and experience living in different places! You need someone who works a nine to five and has weekends off and I need someone who understands I can’t control my hours! You want kids and that terrifies me!”

“We don’t need to have any of that! I’ll change, if that’s what you want. Is that what it’ll take to get you to stay?!”

“No!” Logan finally turned to look at Patton. “I don’t want to change you! I want you to find someone who’ll give you what you want! I want you to have a life where you have what makes you happy, and I can’t give that to you. I’d never forgive myself if I took that possibility away from you!”

Patton shook his head incredulously. “Logan, you make me happy! Why won’t you believe that I would give up all that to be with you?”

Logan picked up both his suitcases and walked out of the bedroom. “I won’t make you happy if you give up what you want for me. I promise, this is for the best.”

Patton stood in his way, the complexion so often smiling being morphed by his heartache. “Why do you get to decide what’s best for me?! Logan, please, don’t go!”

Logan pushed past Patton as the tears he had been holding back finally fell. He stopped at the doorway.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. Patton said nothing, and as the door shut behind Logan, he sobbed, sinking to his knees.

As soon as Logan left the apartment, he completely fell apart. He walked through the lobby of his apartment building, tears blurring his vision and coating his cheeks. Drenched inside and out from the sorrow and the rain outside, he threw his bags into the trunk of his car and collapsed on the steering wheel, shaking and sobbing and hurting, hurting so completely and throughout his entire body. Logan could literally feel every part of him aching with the pain.

He let himself grieve for a few minutes. He then forced himself to breathe and calm down. When he felt stable enough to drive, he put his key into the ignition and started the car.

Logan thought about all the times he had left this building early in the morning, leaving breakfast on the table and a kiss on a sleeping Patton’s forehead. He forced the memory out of his mind and kept driving until he could no longer see the past he was leaving behind.

#ts #thomas sanders #sanders sides #logicality #logicality fic #prinxiety #patton #logan #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #my writing #dhmyh #does he make you happy

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project-stormblessed · 4 years

Note

1-50

Alrighty!

1. What color are your socks?

All of my socks are either completely black or black and gray. Lol.

2. Have you ever lied about your age? Why?

Only once when I was like, 12 or 13 making a second Youtube account lol.

3. What is something you regret in the past month?

Becoming distant and isolating myself from most of my friends. Quarantine has not been good for my mental health tbh.

4. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Honestly? Not sure. Part of me doesn’t, and part of me does. Can’t really get either part to agree one way or the other.

5. When was the last time you wrote someone a letter on paper? Definitely well over a decade ago. Honestly can’t remember.

6. How old were you when you first learned how to ride a bike? Who taught you?

I was 11 or 12, and it was my older brother Jack who taught me. He also taught me how to drive lol.

7. Do you get along with your parents? Why or why not?

We get along well enough. Now that they’re retired the house is a much calmer environment.

8. What’s your favorite season?

Spring. I love seeing everything in bloom—the colors are very pleasing to me. I love seeing lots of green, and lots of lush plantlife.

9. Do you currently like someone?

Hmm, not entirely sure about that one. I guess I don’t really have any strong feelings for anyone in particular. Maybe. 👀👀

10. Have you ever used an Ouija board?

Nope, and I don’t plan on it.

11. What’s the last song you sang?

It was a song for choir this past semester, though I don’t remember the title that well or the composer.

12. What’s your favorite scent?

Never really had a favorite scent, honestly. My sense of smell has been pretty dull/weak for as long as I can remember and I’ve never really given much thought to any favorite scent.

13. What’s your favorite urban legend?

The Roswell UFO incident of 1947. It sparked my interest in aliens and UFOs at a very young age, and is probably responsible for a good deal of my love for sci-fi.

14. What’s a bad habit that you have?

Poor self control when it comes to time management. I tend to let myself get absorbed in things.

15. What’s a strange habit that you have?

Hmm. Totally blanked and could only come up with “making noises and pretending to be a mech of some sort when moving around my house”. That’s all I got.

16. What’s the first instrument you learned to play?

Piano. I started learning at 8 years old.

17. How would you describe your ‘type’?

Y’know funny enough I’ve never really thought I had a type. However reaching my mid-twenties has made me realize that my ‘type’ is kind, compassionate, goofy, and nerdy/geeky.

18. Would you rather stay in or go out?

Depends on the company, I guess. Though, usually I prefer to stay in anyway.

19. What was the last thing you said to your mom?

“I’m taking Dax out.” When I went for a walk with my dog lol.

20. Do you want to get married someday?

Definitely didn’t used to. I’m at the point where I’d be down if my partner wanted to, though I’m not sure I’d wanna spend a shitload of money on a wedding. Guess it depends on financial status at the time and the preferences of my partner.

21. Have you ever snuck out?

Nah, though I never needed to. My parents typically let me leave house whenever I wanted to as long as I told them who I’m with and when-ish I’m going to be home.

22. Can you sing well?

I can match pitch pretty well, but I can’t produce pitch un-aided. Usually. So kinda. I’m ok at best, all things considered.

23. What’s an embarrassing thing that happened this week?

I went off on some of my friends over something kinda silly because my mental state as of late hasn’t been all that great.

24. When was the last time you went sledding?

Uhhh, definitely more than ten years ago.

25. Have you ever liked/do you like someone you know you can never be with?

You kidding me? That’s like, all of my crushes ever. Maybe that’s an exaggeration but honestly it’s certainly FELT that way each time.

26. Do people often mispronounce your name?

No, though I have known a few people throughout my life that said “Bin” rather than “Ben”. I eventually realised it was an accent thing and stopped giving a shit very early.

27. Would you like to live in another country?

Yes, actually. For no small number of reasons. I’ve always wanted to live in Italy ever since I visited when I was 15.

28. Do you like to watch ghost hunting shows?

I definitely used to. I don’t really watch tv much in general anymore, though.

29. Who was the last person you said “I love you” too?

My mom.

30. What’s something you’d like to be better at?

Social interaction. Speaking in general. I’m MUCH more articulate in writing/typing than I am speaking.

31. Have you ever stayed up with someone who was sad?

Yes, and I’m always willing to do so.

32. What was the last thing you cooked?

I helped my good friend prepare some bomb ass ramen a few months back. I guess that counts.

33. Do you think you’d make a good parent?

I’d like to think so, yeah. I would make sure my children know I’m always there for them and will support the hell out of them.

34. Do you have trouble sleeping at night?

I don’t, but my dipshit body does.

35. Where is your best friend right now?

All of them are either playing video games or asleep.

36. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

Factoring in every aspect of the morning ritual, about 40 minutes. That’s if I’m going somewhere like work or school. If I’m staying home then there’s no getting ready for anything but sitting on my ass lol.

37. How late do you usually stay up at night?

Depends on the time of year/what I’m doing the next day. Right now during quarantine I average anywhere between 2am and 6am. I’m trying to fix that currently.

38. When was the last time you cried and why?

The last time I truly cried was sometime in 2015. I was listening to Breaking Benjamin’s latest album and feeling exceedingly lonely/depressed. It wasn’t a great day.

39. Have you ever won a contest?

None that I can remember, honestly.

40. Can you draw well?

Lol. No. I have very little visual artistic talent or skill.

41. Would you ever date someone you met on tumblr/the internet?

Definitely, though obviously I wouldn’t just jump right in. I’m down for long distance relationships, too. But obviously mutual trust and emotional connection would have to be established first.

42. What was the last thing you ate?

Some brownie fudge M&Ms lol.

43. Do you think you’re/you’d make a good boyfriend?

I don’t really know. Never been in a relationship so I don’t have anything go off of. On the one hand I’m super understanding, laid back, and accepting of boundaries. I just want to make sure people feel comfortable and safe around me. On the other hand I’m also forgetful and very selfish when it comes to my time. I also obviously have plenty of emotional trauma/baggage (who doesn’t?) that tends to impede how I interact with people, so. 🤷🏼‍♂️

44. Have you ever had a near death experience?

Not that I can remember, and I hope I never do. The closest I think I ever came was when I fell off a ropeless bridge into a dry riverbed at 4 years old. Got a concussion from that.

45. What do you think people think of you?

Well, my anxiety tells me I’m annoying and boring. The logical side of me tells me most people in my life enjoy my company, so I guess there’s that.

46. What is your middle name and do you like it?

Don’t feel like sharing my middle name here, but I will say I don’t dislike it. Kinda neutral.

47. Are you close with either of your parents?

Kinda. My parents were often emotionally distant/abusive to my brothers and me growing up, and it’s left me rather stunted emotionally, and generally unwilling to establish a deeper relationship with them. We’re a bit closer than we were when I was a teenager, but honestly not much.

48. Do you like yourself?

Generally speaking? No. There are parts of me I’m proud of, but honestly I often find myself wishing I was someone else. I’m far from the self-loathing I experienced when I was younger, though.

49. State five facts about your appearance—

1. I’m 6’1”-ish.

2. Definitely just a bit chubby.

3. Blue eyes.

4. Currently sporting longer hair because I haven’t had a haircut since about September.

5. I have a number of faded scars on my arms from various self inflicted/work related injuries. All of them were caused by extreme clumsiness/poor spacial awareness.

50. State five facts about your personality—

1. I’m super goofy—I make lots of weird noises and motions.

2. I tend to ramble about things I’m interested in, particularly hyper fixations.

3. I like to think I’m a pretty compassionate human being.

4. Extremely awkward, but strangely that doesn’t show because I’m apparently a social chameleon.

5. I’m an observer, but also an overthinker.

Whew, that was a lot! Thank you, friend!

#asks #answered asks

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chain-unchained · 5 years

Text

June 4

(are these blurbs before the actual writing pretentious? ;~; idk)

I always kind of imagined that Shane has this vicious cycle of drinking, feeling like he let Jas and/or Marnie down, trying to make it up to them but failing in some way, and then drinking harder. So this chapter is a bit fluffy and melancholic. I hope you like it ;u;

With the weight of what had transpired a few days ago still fresh in Shane’s mind, he was determined to do what he could to make up for it today, Jas’ eighth birthday. Even with all his failures and him spending most of his paychecks on booze, he’d saved enough to get her a new Welwick Court doll. He didn’t really know much about kids’ toys, but he did know that Jas loved the Welwick dolls, and he’d gone through her collection to make sure that he didn’t get one she already had.

It wasn’t near enough to make up for everything he’d put her through, he knew that. He knew that if he had even an ounce of restraint and saved up his money, he could have gotten her more than just one present—if he had his life together, he could have gotten her a dozen gifts, taken her out to Zuzu city for a day of fun and shopping because he would have remembered to put in for the day off in advance, and actually been the godfather that he was supposed to be. But this was the best he could do. It was all he could do.

The day at Joja-Mart seemed to drag on even more than it usually did; when 5 PM finally rolled around, Shane clocked out, grabbing the gift he’d messily wrapped from his locker and tucked it into his jacket. He’d make a quick pit stop at the saloon on his way home, pick up some pizza for Jas’ birthday dinner and have a drink to help settle his anxiety while it was cooking, and be back at the ranch by 5:30. Plenty of time to celebrate the squirt’s birthday with her and Marnie.

As his feet carried him down the road away from that hell-mart, his thoughts meandered as they often did, filling his mind with fantasies about what life would be like if he didn’t work at Joja, if he hadn’t torn his ACL playing gridball, if he hadn’t dropped out of college. It was almost unbelievable that once upon a time, he had potential to actually make something of his life. He could have been a fullback for the Tunnelers if he hadn’t blown out his knee…

“On your way home?”

Pausing at the sound of Ashe’s voice, Shane took his eyes away from the ground where he had been looking and saw the petite farmboy standing a bit further down the road, covered in dirt—it looked like he’d had quite the day on the farm, to say the least.

“No, I’m walking to my second job at the other Joja-mart.” Shane snorted quietly, coming to a stop before the youth. “But yeah, actually, I am.” He admitted after a moment; after what had happened on the first, he couldn’t bring himself to be as cold and mean as he had used to be with the kid, especially not since Ashe was still treating him like a friend. “Today’s Jas’ birthday, so I’m just gonna stop by the saloon and pick up a pizza or two to bring back.”

“Ah, I thought so!” Ashe clapped his hands together in delight and reached into his bag. “I was so busy on the farm today that I didn’t have the chance to stop by and say hello before the shop closed… Would you mind giving this to her and wishing her a happy birthday for me?” As he spoke, he pulled a bubblegum pink pinkcat flower out and held it out to Shane with a smile.

Shane gave it a thought for a second. “… Nope. Give it to her yourself.” He commented as he began to walk again, not wanting to keep Jas waiting longer than necessary. She could get pretty hangry if dinner was even just a little bit late.

“Eh--?” Confused, Ashe turned around to watch him go. “But… the shop’s closed--?”

“So?” Shane stopped again to look back at him, jerking his head to indicate for Ashe to follow him. “I’m saying come back with me, ya dingus. Marnie won’t care, she likes you well enough.”

It took a few seconds for Ashe to realize what Shane said; slowly, the biggest smile lit up his face. “Okay~!”

“You’re so fucking slow sometimes.” Shane shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets as he began to walk once more, with Ashe hastening to catch up. “I still don’t get why you keep bothering with an asshole like me. Shouldn’t you be hanging out with people your age, like Sebastian or Abigail?”

To be honest, it was a question he’d had in his mind for awhile now. While it was true that most of his time was spent stocking those damn shelves, he’d never really seen Ashe spend time with the youngers of the valley—he was always busy with something or other, and what little free time he had seemed to be spent bugging Shane or doing favors for the townsfolk. Sometimes, just watching Ashe flit about like a hummingbird made Shane feel tired.

“Mmm…” A contemplative look came onto Ashe’s face at the question. “I talk to them on the computer during the evenings… it’s kind of embarrassing to admit, but most of the time I have trouble connecting with them.” He looked to Shane with a shrug of his shoulders and an airheaded smile. “Not so much with Sebastian, we actually talk a lot over chat. Sam’s easy enough to talk to because he’s so easygoing, too. Abigail’s nice, but I have trouble keeping up with her sometimes…”

“That so?” It struck Shane as Ashe talked that he really didn’t know much of anything about the kid. “I figured it would be the opposite since you’re such a nosy bugaboo. Guess that means you have nothing to do with Alex or Haley, huh?”

“Not really, no.” Ashe agreed with a vigorous shake of his head. “Haley doesn’t even acknowledge my existence. Alex at least will say hello, but… Oh, I do sometimes talk to Penny. Not very often, though, since she’s usually busy with tutoring.” There was also Emily, but he didn’t need to say anything, since Shane knew how the two of them got on since she worked evenings at the saloon, and Elliot, who was going through one of his rare inspiration phases and had barely left his cabin since spring started.

“What’s stopping you from doing what you did to me to them?” Shane gave Ashe the stink-eye. “I’ve got half a mind to make you go and bother them until you make friends. Kids like you shouldn’t be bothering with old farts like me.”

Defeated, Ashe just gave him another smile and laughed meekly, and Shane looked forward again with a quiet snort. It was an empty threat, honestly, though he was surprised to hear that a cheerful, personable person like Ashe couldn’t connect with people in his age group. He found that hard to believe, but Ashe didn’t seem the type to lie, not about something so trivial at least.

With pizza and 2-liters of soda in hand after a quick stop at the saloon, the pair took the southwest road out of town and made their way to the ranch. Struggling a little to open the front door since his hands were full, Shane let them in; as expected, the shop was empty, and they could hear Jas’ excited chattering coming from the kitchen. “Shh, this’ll be a surprise.” He whispered to Ashe, who nodded his head in silent agreement.

“Aunt Marnie, when is Shane gonna be home?” Jas asked, sitting at the table and swinging her legs restlessly as she colored away in her Welwick courts coloring book; it was hard being patient, especially as a kid, and especially especially as a kid on your birthday. But she’d been extra super good that day in the hopes that it would mean she’d have a good evening.

“I’m not sure, sweetie.” Marnie kept her back turned to Jas as she spoke, putting the finishing touches on the birthday cake as she tried not to let her smile come through in her voice; she certainly hoped that her nephew could pass up the saloon for one day and come home early, and she hated that she honestly didn’t know what he would end up doing. “I’m sure that he’ll be back soon. He at least said he was going to get some pizza, and I don’t think he’d keep the birthday girl waiting for her dinner.”

“… Is he gonna be drunk?” Jas’ legs stopped swinging, her voice becoming quiet and almost somber; at the counter, Marnie paused in her icing. “I don’t like it when he drinks… and he always seems unhappy. Why does he drink if he doesn’t like it?”

They were difficult words to hear from a little girl. And what made it even harder was that Marnie simply didn’t have an answer to give—not the kind of answer that Jas wanted, at least. “I wish I could say, kiddo.” She turned to look at her young charge with a sympathetic smile. “But that’s something only Shane can answer.”

As expected, Jas struggled to understand why Marnie didn’t have the answer. Before she could prod her aunt any further, however, Shane loudly cleared his throat, announcing his and Ashe’s presence. “I have a large cheese pizza for a Ms. Jas.”

“Shane!” Jas twisted around in her seat to look at her godfather, her face lighting up at his presence; despite it all, it was clear that she adored him more than anything in the whole world. The delight on her face was replaced by surprise as she saw Ashe poke his head out from behind Shane—the hallway was rather on the narrow side, and there was no room for him to stand beside the man. “Mr. Ashe? How come you’re here too?”

“Well, I heard it was a certain someone’s birthday today~” Ashe smiled as Shane stepped fully into the kitchen, setting the pizza down on the table and flipping the box open to reveal its ooey gooey cheesy contents. “I just wanted to wish you a very happy birthday, Jas. I didn’t know what all to get you, so…” He held the flower out to the girl. “It’s not much, but I bet it’d look very pretty if you pressed it in a book.”

Jas’ eyes widened even more as she carefully accepted the brightly colored flower. “Thank you…” She didn’t expect him to get her a gift.

“You’re welcome~” Ashe raised his hand in farewell and turned to leave. “I’ll let you all have your evening, then. Bye~”

“What, you’re not going to stay for some pizza and cake?” Marnie inquired, giving Ashe pause. “Come on, sit and relax for a spell.”

“Ah… are you sure?” Ashe turned back to look at the family, uncertainty written on his face. “I don’t want to impose on a day like today.” His expression shifted to one of meekness as he looked down to his dirt-covered self. “And I’m such a mess right now, I—”

“Mr. Ashe?” Jas interrupted, looking from the flower to Ashe with her large, expressive eyes. “If you don’t stay, there’s gonna be a lot of leftovers. Even Shane can’t eat this much pizza.”

“Hey, what are you trying to say there squirt?” Shane pretended to look offended by her comment. “Well, you heard the birthday girl. Might as well, right?”

Momentarily overwhelmed, Ashe looked to Marnie for confirmation; the portly woman smiled and nodded, reaching up into the cupboards to get an extra plate for their guest. “… I guess if Jas wants me to, I don’t have a choice~” He admitted with a sheepish smile.

It felt just a little strange to him, to be sitting with the little family as they ate their way through as much of the massive pizza as they could, but it wasn’t an unwelcome sort of strange. It almost felt like… he had a family again, a feeling that he thought he wouldn’t get to experience again. It was bittersweet.

“Mr. Ashe, how come you decided to be a farmer?” Jas asked, once the pizza had been demolished and the cake polished off (no matter how stuffed you were, there was always room for cake). Still at the table with Ashe and Shane while Marnie cleared away the dishes, she was quite happily playing with the new doll that was Shane’s gift to her, though it didn’t stop her from being the inquisitive child that she was.

The question caught Ashe off-guard. “Well…” He looked thoughtful as he tried to think of the best way to answer her question. “I just needed a change.” He finally answered after several moments of contemplation. “Before my grandpa died, he gave me an envelope and told me to open it when the time was right. I didn’t know it at the time, of course, but it was the deed to his farm.” He smiled merrily. “I worked at a Joja office for awhile, and then I got tired of being an adult and came to be a farmer instead~”

“You worked for Joja?” Shane couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice, lifting his head up from where he’d been resting it against his hand to look at the kid with raised brows. “When? You look like you just barely graduated high school.”

“Never judge a book by its cover~” Ashe chimed, looking carefree as ever—yet for some reason, Shane got the feeling that this time, that happy go lucky attitude was fake. “I didn’t even finish high school.”

Jas’ jaw hit the floor. “You didn’t? Why? Didn’t you like school?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Ashe nodded his head vigorously. “I loved school.” His smile softened just a little, and for a moment, it almost seemed to become melancholy. “But sometimes, you have to do things that you don’t want to do.” And just like that, he was back to his normal self, giving Jas a big ol’ grin. “And then later down the road, you might be able to do things you want to do again.”

His words gave the little girl quite a lot to think about, as she tried to stifle a yawn behind her hand. “Alright, little missy.” Marnie turned around as she dried her hands on a rag, as though she had eyes in the back of her head that saw it. “It’s way past your bedtime. Come along now, let’s pick out a book to read.”

“Awww…” Jas pouted, her attempt to stay up later duly foiled. “Okay…”

“G’night, squirt.” Shane bid, watching as his aunt led Jas out of the kitchen towards her room; as soon as the two were out of earshot, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the tabletop and burying his face in his hands as he let out the heaviest sigh. Somehow, he’d managed to hold himself together after catching Jas’ comment about him drinking; it had taken everything he had in that moment not to turn and walk right back out the door, her words unintentionally crushing his already crumbling heart.

“Shane…?” Ashe gently touched the man’s arm; he of course had heard what Jas had said, too, and seen the way that Shane’s face had fallen, even if it was just for a moment. “You okay?”

For a long minute, Shane didn’t answer. “No, I’m not okay.” He finally mumbled, curling his fingers to dig his nails into his skin. “I’m a fucking wreck and I can’t even pull myself together for Jas.”

He wouldn’t say it, but hearing how even Ashe had taken control of his life only amplified Shane’s feelings of shame and self-hatred. Here was a kid who by all rights should be out having the time of his life but instead chose to work one of the most grueling, laborious jobs out there, all on his own, without so much as a single complaint. And then there was Shane, still living with his aunt, working a dead-end job that he hated with no savings, no future and no ambitions.

“…” Ashe scooted a little closer, putting his arm around Shane’s shoulders in a sort of semi-hug; abruptly, Shane knocked his arm off, leaning away from the farmer to make sure he couldn’t do it again.

It wasn’t that the gesture wasn’t appreciated. It was that it was so unexpected, and Shane was in such a bad place, that he couldn’t accept it, and his first instinct was to violently reject it before he had a chance to realize how much he needed that kind of support.

Of course, he wasn’t able to verbalize this to Ashe, whose arm fell back to his side, his eyes widening as he realized that he went too far. “S-Sorry.” The farmer apologized. “… I think it’s time I headed home.” He murmured, not wanting to overstay his welcome any longer. “Thank you for inviting me over, Shane.”

Shane couldn’t even bring himself to acknowledge Ashe’s gratitude, burying his face deeper into his hands; he listened to the sound of Ashe’s boot heels as he headed down the hall towards the front door, and could faintly hear him bid a farewell to Marnie and Jas on his way out. The whole time, his shoulders were shaking, his chin quivering as he scrunched up his face in a desperate attempt to keep the tears in his eyes from overflowing. He didn’t even have it in him to treat the person who had gone out of his way to befriend him with the smallest amount of decency…

#stardew #stardew valley #stardew shane #stardew farmer #stardew valley fanfiction #stardew fanfiction #stardew fanfic

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mai-stories · 5 years

Text

The Florist and the Mercenary - Chapter Two: The Switch

Not long after leaving the Lamia's Tail, Lily's anxiety arose once again. She was not familiar with Woodmoore, so she had to rely on Ernest's help. The two made their way back to the market square, unaware of the figure following after them. A figure clad in black weaved like the wind between the passersby, on a direct path straight for one innocent girl out of her depth in this place. Hand aglow, feet silent, he made for what cash his magic would snatch for him... Only for a hand on the small of Lily's back to take her out of the way. The piercing gold eyes of Ernest were set on the would-be thief and his other hand opened. From his palm, from a metallic glow at the center, chains erupted and the figure in black wailed as he was not only tangled up, but lifted into the air by his ankles. Everything seemed to go so quickly for Lily, her hair whipping around when the thief had made an attempt to rob her. She clutched her apron tightly, reaching underneath it to the pockets of her dress in order to feel for her money. She relaxed some, giving a nod to Ernest before she glanced over at the would be thief.

"Bet this fella had his eyes on you from the get go. I doubt he expected a mage of my caliber though!" Ernest bragged and he gently moved his free hand to Lily's shoulder. "I think I got him before he could snag anything. You okay, Missy?"

"I'm fine." She murmured, still breathing a little heavily before looking up at the elven man.

"Is that common?" She asked him, relaxing more before breaking his hold. She wasn't comfortable with a near stranger touching her like that. "What's going to happen to him anyway?" There were so many questions she had, having never lived in a large city. Were people really robbed out in the open like this? Surely someone else must have seen him. They definitely saw him now, suspended in the air by golden chains that sprung from Ernest's hand. She still didn't trust him any farther than the demure girl could throw him. It was expected, that much was obvious.

"Only if you don't know who to look out for..." He eyed the thief and smirked, "As for now...!" With a flick of his chains, he swung the thief high over their heads and unraveled them, letting him fly off over a couple buildings. "He can think about what he did and think twice as hard about robbing anyone else today." The Chain Mage dusted his hands off and grinned, "As long as you're with me, Lily, you're in real good hands."

Lily's eyes widened when she watched the thief fly, making her hands cover her mouth. That man could have been seriously injured, thief or not! Still, as much as she wanted to tell him how dangerous that was, a part of her deep down shook it off. He wouldn't do that to her, would he? Chains, though.. She didn't like the thought of those. It appeared useful, but it only made her a bit more reluctant. Slavers and traders used chains to capture particular races for their valuable bodies, so seeing him demonstrate what he was capable of made her all the more wary of him. There was no way he could tell what she was, could he?

"Well then.. Let's be on our way." She said softly, taking a deep breath. A chill ran up her spine as paranoia set in. She had to trust him, she had already paid him and he agreed to keep her safe. The girl looked to him to lead the way, as she didn't know the city well enough to find her way to the southern roads. Ernest saluted, making sure to keep a close eye on his new traveling companion as they made their way through Woodmoore. Finding the southern gates was easy enough, and from there it was a straight shot outside of the city. Actual military presence was non existent in this place. Between the multitude of Magics and the presence of both Grand Magia and the Arcanium Assembly, the need for armed forces was unnecessary in the capital city. Outside of the city was lightly wooded road, pleasant with a cool breeze blowing in from the east. Ernest stopped their pace, looking to Lily as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ah... Lily, uh, I kind of hate to bring it up. It sounds so awkward, but... You still don't trust me yet do ya?" He asked, unusually glum as he peered at her curiously. Long, indigo locks billowed carelessly in the breeze, her eyes turning to him before she gave him a slightly sheepish shrug, hands upturned as she gave her answer.

"Can you really blame me? I've.. never really been to Woodmoore, so I'm a bit nervous." She said softly, a short sigh escaping her. "I apologize. I'm just nervous." Lily explained before she loosened her shoulders, closing her eyes for a moment before looking over at him. "You understand, though.. Why I'd be cautious about strangers, right?" She tried making conversation as she looked over at him, tilting her head slightly. It was still rather early, the sun having passed its highest and was beginning to descend towards the horizon. It was the middle of spring, so it didn't look like it would get too warm later on.

"Because you're a mermaid?" He said it so casually.

A much more chilling wind whipped by. "I approached so happily.. Just trying to make conversation. I always come off as overly friendly I'm told." Ernest sighed. Rubbing the back of his neck again, he continued to speak. "And my Chain Magic too... Why, I bet you started to think I was some slaver...! Ha ha ha ha!" He laughed, though it was not at all jovial. And like that, the laughter stopped.

"Stupid little fish girl oughta listened to that instinct." His smile, once so warm, morphed and curled into something wicked.

Chains erupted from his fingertips in fast moving tendrils of clanking, seemingly endless strands. Each tipped by a wickedly sharp dagger that either hovered threateningly or made to ensnare the girl quickly. With a strong enough hold, Ernest planned to lift the girl up and walk her over to the trees a bit more out of sight. Those dark and uneasy thoughts were proven totally true. Her gaze froze on him, like a newborn deer she tried to run away, though she tripped over her skirts in her frantic panic, unable to get away.

"Hah.. Help!" She cried out, her hands coming up to deflect the chains away with water. She had a canteen hidden under her apron, water popping the lid open and flowing out to her hands in order to keep them from being shackled. She tried getting to her feet, only stumbling even more, struggling to her feet before one chain shackled her foot. "Someone! Please!" She cried again. In the face of danger, she was terrified, her timid voice not quite loud enough to reach the ears of those that were still lingering around the outside of the city.

Lily tried to pull her leg from the chains, trying to get to her feet once more and run away. She was trapped, though, her water unable to break the magic that kept her tethered down. Using what was left of her water, she formed a bubble around her, keeping herself safe as long as she could hold it. The black-clad thief from before appeared, hands aglow and pressed against the dome to sap away the mana keeping it up. All the while Ernest whipped the bubble in hopes of popping it, wearing down her measly defense and so they could take her away!

"Caught a mermaid once! She was a lot more trusting, a lot less trouble! Pretty, too. She made us a pretty penny at black market auction! I bet you will, too." Both men started to cackle madly, keeping up the attack as Lily's mana was slowly being sapped, her bubble close to breaking.

Tears streaming from her eyes, Lily was close to giving up. She was so close to letting go, until she felt static in the water around her. A crackle hit their ears, like lightning preparing to snap down on this clear, sunny evening and the air grew charged, their bodies feeling the danger before it struck. Literally. Blue bolts of lightning crashed down on both men, electrocuting them. It was over in an instant and they were left dazed and blackened, standing still until a gentle passing breeze saw to it that they collapsed in groaning heaps, preventing them from breaking Lily's defense. A small gasp of surprise escaped her as she watched her would be kidnappers fall to the ground.

"Assholes.." A hooded stranger grumbled as he walked up to the curled up girl and crouched down in front of her bubble shield. He stared blankly at her from under his hood, past its clear walls and tapped a couple times, the surface rippling somewhat. "Oi. It's over now, girl." He called. The water had protected her from the leftover crackling, the bubble popping when the mysterious man tapped it.

"Please don't hurt me.." She said, backing up in the damp grass with tears still in her eyes.

After the scare those two had put in her, she would find it increasingly harder to trust anyone that came near her now. sure, he saved her, but at what cost? Would he extort her rescue for money? Was he a rival slaver? She was so scared now, shaking on the ground with her arms covering her face in cowardice. The man rolled his eye and huffed.

"If I wanted to hurt you, there would have been three lightning bolts, don't you think?" The stranger snarked to her.

He stood up to his full height and pulled his hood off, towering over her cowering form with no regard for her terror or her anxiety now. The girl looked up at him, his silhouette casting a dark shadow over her as he spoke to her.

"Get on your feet. Let's go..." He reached down to take Lily by her arm, intent on pulling her onto her feet if need be. She flinched at first, but otherwise allowed him to help her up. "You and I are about to have a talk. You must be three kinds of insanely stupid! Walking in to that place without any kind of illusion or glamour to hide the biggest effin' tell for your kind! You waltz right in and practically shout, 'Hi, I'm ditzy mermaid! Kidnap me for slaver auctions! Maybe worse if you feel up to it!' By the All-Magic... Idiot." No malice, no pain... He just rebuked her!

Not unlike a brother would a sister, but without the tact or familial kindness. No, this was straight chiding and no verbal punches were pulled. It wasn't so much a talk as it was a scolding. How was she supposed to know what about her was a dead give away? She had never even been to a big city like this before! Instead of simply speaking her thoughts and defending herself, Lily just bowed her head, taking his words headlong before uttering a small apology.

"I-I'm sorry.. I didn't.. I didn't know.." She explained, avoiding his gaze as he intimidated her to pieces. She started to calm down, tears ceasing as she tried to take a few deep breaths. "Thank you for saving me." She told him, forcing herself to stand up straight and raise her head to meet his gaze, surprised to find he had one eye, the other covered by a white eyepatch.

She only hoped he wouldn't ask for the rest of her money for this. She needed to find someone else to take her to Port Hollifern. Just then, the thought struck her, like lightning struck those two! But no! No.. Why would he agree to protect her if she was a beacon for trouble? It was a bad idea, so she kept it to herself.

"Don't mention it." He turned and walked over to Ernest's unconscious form. He rifled through the man's pockets and brought out a coin pouch that jangled some as he bounced it in his palm. The white haired stranger walked back to the downtrodden mermaid and took her hand to put two gold in it. "I'm keeping three," Irvine told her bluntly, "One for my trouble," He proceeded to bite one like Ernest had, "One for my words of wisdom," His words of scolding? He bit down on another. "And one for taking you back home. Wise up before you decide to skip on in to situations you aren't ready for like an idiot." The one-eyed man bit the last piece before he pocketed his procured coin and folded his arms over his chest, gazing sternly at the timid mermaid. "Merfolk have the longest hair of all the magical races. It also shimmers when wet, giving away your race. Visit a witch or druid and they can brew up a legal potion to hide that. Pretty cheaply, too. That, or learn how to deal with assholes like that and you won't need to hide. Simple. I won't charge you that advice." He told her, peering down at her with that lone, blue stare.

"My hair..?" She reached up and brought a thick handful of it over her shoulder, looking over the glossy strands. It got wet when her bubble had been popped, so it did take on a shimmering sheen. She grimaced as she realized her mistake. "I see.. I probably should have dressed better, too." She said quietly, taking the thick locks of hair into her hands and weaving the length into a braid, letting it fall against her back before she tightened her cloth bandanna over the top of her head. His words lingered in her thoughts.. He was offering to take her home, but that was not her destination. He suggested it, so she could make a counter offer, right? "Could you take me to Hollifern Bay instead?" She asked him outright, taking out more money from her purse under her apron, looking up at him. "I'll pay you whatever you like if you can keep this from happening again." Lily urged, heart beating so strongly in her chest.

There was a bit of determination in her eyes, as she didn't want to be taken right back to where she started. Taking carriages to each city would only be more expensive, and would cost her a good chunk of change as the roads were often winding and cities far apart. The man's eyebrows rose, mildly surprised that she found her voice so quickly. He had fully expected her to trudge back to her home with her head down and lock herself away after that embarrassing display, but no, instead she was gungho to take this trip.

"...What's your name?" He asked, almost begrudgingly, apparently taking on her request. He watched as relief took over her face, the girl glad that he accepted her offer.

"My name is Lily." She said as she began to dust her clothes off, using her magic to remove any water from her clothing as well as prevent any stains. It was remarkably easy, just threading the liquid through to remove impurities before she willed it all back into her canteen at her hip. She snapped the lid closed, looking back up at him. That icy gaze of his still made her nervous, but he seemed to soften up towards her, in her opinion. She looked back at the two that had tried to kidnap her, hoping they wouldn't wake up any time soon and come after them. All of that metal on Ernest surely must have added some pain, so she pitied him despite his intentions. "I know it's pretty far, so that's why I need help getting there.." She told him, starting to explain her plan. "What's your name?" She asked in return, a small smile on her delicate face. "Irvine Bastio, and I gathered as much." The taller man looked over his new mermaid charge and down at her canteen. "Your magic isn't even strong enough to conjure water from the air." He sighed, running one hand through his white mohawk. Already, the lightning mage could feel in the pit of his stomach that this girl might just be more trouble than she was worth... But damn, was he such the pushover. "Alright. If I'm going to do this, then I have two rules. One, you're going to learn how to use offensive magic and like it. I'll teach you. A single whine or complaint and I'll hand you your gold and walk away. Two, you have to take jobs on the way just like I will. What they are is your choice, but the trip from here all the way down to Hollifern Bay won't be cheap. My payment is a gold a day. Understood?" He explained, holding his fingers up in regards to the rules.

Lily looked up as he made his conditions clear, her face filling with worry. "I.. Well, I suppose I don't have a choice, then." She said with a sigh, nodding as she confirmed that she understood. "How will you teach me, though? Water and Lightning aren't even similar." She said, lifting her hands up, looking down at the pale palms before her gaze returned to him.

"Magic is magic. The mana all mages use, their magic, are extensions of thought and will," Irvine explained almost sagely, walking over to both unconscious men and rifling through their things more thoroughly. He took an earring, each possessing a small topaz stone dangling on a single chain link, from one ear off of Ernest and another off of his thief friend. Pockets pilfered, he started ushering Lily back toward the path.

"Jobs on the way... What kind of jobs would there even be?" She asked aloud, not directed at him as she covered her cheek in thought.

"Whatever the job boards or businesses offer. Maybe you and I will have to kill a creature or two or do a bit of hard labor. Something." He answered as he brought out his own coin and took a moment to count out his own personal bank. Thirty-one gold, two silver and six copper. A decent amount, good for meals and some cheap inn rooms.

It seemed all Lily had on her was her money, her canteen, and whatever else lied in those deep pockets of hers beneath her apron. Lily didn't have a map of any kind, nor did she have any extra provisions. It was clear that she had never traveled far from home before! Lily's face grew more worried when he explained the types of jobs they'd be offered. The only thing in her life she had actually killed were fish in the lake she lived beside. Maybe traveling so far was harder than she imagined, but she couldn't back down now.

#original #story #adventure #fantasy

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