#to do anything with it; meaning i haven’t been booked in for induction; meaning i don’t have my start date yet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

Prima Vista Part V

[ previous ] Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x Reader, Zeke Jaeger x Reader wc: ~ 8.8k Warnings: pining, testosterone, Zeke being a dick (who woulda thought), subtle manipulation (both on Zeke’s part that goes unchecked and accidentally on Mike’s part) A/N: Well, we’re gettin’ there. We’re truckin’ along. I’m sorry for the last chapter. And, I’m sorry for this one. But, I do still hope you enjoy it. I think we’re at the halfway mark here.

Mike gets a text from you at nine PM three days before he’s supposed to go back to campus. It’s just a few words, a question that makes his heart drop to his stomach because you’ve never asked it before.

Can we talk for a sec?

He waits for a few minutes, tries to get rid of the panicked feeling rising in his chest, but he can’t get it to go away entirely, so he just bites the bullet and calls you.

“Heyyy,” you greet. Mike can already tell a difference in your tone. Something is definitely going on.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I just, uh…” He hears you suck on your front teeth, a nervous habit he’s well versed in now, then you tell him, “I just wanted to give you a heads up before you get back here.”

Mike swallows. “Heads up about what?”

Are you leaving? Did you fail your summer classes despite all his help? Did you get into some kind of accident?

You let out a long breath that Mike wishes he could feel on his skin. He wishes he could see your expression, wishes he could hold your face in his hands and tell you that whatever it is, it’ll be okay. Seems like he’s always wishing for things.

“Um, I—uh… I’m kind of seeing someone.”

The floor falls out from beneath him, and Mike drops with it, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He grits his teeth, trying to breathe normally—in through the nose, out through the mouth. This is about the last thing he expected you to confess.

It’s apparently taking too long for him to gather himself, because you say his name, “Miche?” and he has to squeeze his eyes shut.

“I’m here. It’s, uh, fine,” he lies. “It’s fine.”

“Is it?” You sound worried, as you should because while Mike isn’t mad, he’s extremely disappointed, probably the most he’s ever been.

Taking a page out of your book, he tries to play it cool, act like he doesn’t care. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, you—...” Met your mom? Learned your secrets? Tried to tell you that he loved you? All valid responses, but you just dismiss it with a quiet, “Nevermind.”

Mike hums, lets the line go silent for a while, then musters the courage to question, “Do I know him?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“What do you mean ‘you think so’?”

“I mean he’s mentioned you, so I figure you’ve had at least a few conversations.” You’re getting that sassy tone, the one that signals you want to drop the subject, but you can’t this time. You’ve already warned Mike that you’re off the god damn market. You might as well tell him who exactly he’s gonna see you holding hands and sucking face with. It’s the merciful thing to do.

“It’s not one of the Pike guys, is it?”

“No, no,” you laugh and it makes Mike want to scream because he doesn’t find this amusing at all, and it only gets worse when you finally answer, “It’s Zeke Jaeger.”

Mike nearly hangs up then and there, but he somehow fights the urge. He does hold his phone away from his ear, though, stares up at his ceiling for a few seconds and stretches his arm out, then brings the device back. “Cool. He’s a… Talented dude.”

“Yeah, but I mean, I’m not exactly starstruck or anything. Not after hangin’ out with you all of last year.”

Mike rolls his eyes so hard he thinks they might fall out of his skull. “You don’t have to make this about me, ba—...” He catches himself before finishing the pet name. He can’t do that anymore. He can’t call you what he wants to. He can’t flirt or smooth hair out of your face. He can’t pick you up and hold you against the walls of the house. He can’t show you how much he cares for you.

“I know. I just feel kinda bad,” you mumble.

“You shouldn’t. It’s cool.” His flat tone is anything but cool, and you can probably tell, but there’s not much Mike can do about that.

You’re pouting when you question, “You’ll still be my friend?” Mike can see the expression without actually seeing it, the doe eyed look you’d be giving him if he were in front of you right now. He can also imagine looping his arms around you and smiling crookedly and kissing your forehead, and fuck, he feels broken.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Shouldn’t even be a question.”

“Good.”

You lapse into another silence, just breathing and waiting for the other to break. It’s you who does. You clear your throat and state one more time, “I just wanted you to know.”

“Thanks.”

“See you in a few days.”

“Yeah,” Mike is barely listening at this point, just looks at the poster on the wall and lets it fall out of focus. “See ya’.”

You don’t hang up immediately, like you’re waiting for him to say something else, but Mike saves you the trouble and presses the ‘end’ button on his phone then tosses it on his pillow and falls back onto the mattress.

He just doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand any of it. You’ve gone an entire year denying him, keeping yourself closed off and never once bringing up the possibility of actually being together. After all the time spent together, after all the date parties, all the sex, staying at each others’ houses. He feels like he knows you better than anyone else probably does. You let him in. You let yourself be vulnerable in front of him. You acted like you trusted him.

So, why isn’t he your first choice? As soon as you realized you were ready to make a fucking commitment to someone, why wasn’t it him?

Mike doubts he’ll ever get the closure. He’ll just have to cope with seeing you around campus with Zeke god damn Jaeger, have to pretend like everything is fine, like you haven’t ripped his heart out of his fucking chest.

Unbearable. It’s going to be absolutely unbearable.

Moving somewhere new always blows. It takes so much energy that Mike doesn’t have, yet here he is, hauling bags and boxes up to his new apartment unit. Honestly, he would almost prefer to stay in the frat house instead of having to make all the trips up and down these god damn concrete stairs, but at least now he’ll finally be away from all the parties. That will definitely come in handy this year considering he’s not gonna want to go to a single fucking one of them.

Once all of his belongings are stacked in his fairly small living room, Mike glances around his new haven, already thinking about how empty it feels without all the guys milling about and dicking around. He doubts he’ll miss the constant noise, but it’s still something that will take some getting used to.

What he will miss is seeing you all the time, waking up in his old room to see you still fast asleep on his pillows, sitting in the main room with the others, heckling them as they play various games. He’s been focusing on the small things for the last couple of days, the things he never took the time to really enjoy. It feels like he didn’t stare long enough or laugh hard enough when he had the chance, and now he doesn’t know when his next opportunity to do either of those with you will be.

Mike scrubs a hand down his face, scratches the hair he’s let grow out a little too much, then slowly begins to unpack his things. He’s being melodramatic, he knows, but he can’t help it. He can either let himself feel sad, or he can let the unbridled fucking rage take over, and out of the two, he prefers the former.

Mike’s class schedule gets pinned to the wall in his bedroom. His laptop gets set up. Textbooks are tossed into a corner. He really doesn’t care to do much more than that, but he figures he should make the place at least a little presentable. Who knows? Maybe he’ll find someone to entertain.

The thought makes him a little sick to his stomach, but it’s a sensation he’s slowly getting used to as more time passes.

Mike knows he needs to pull himself together, needs to put on a brave face. Pretty soon all the frats will be dealing with the dirty rushers, all the kids who weren’t able or didn’t think to suck up to the brothers during the spring. Then there’s inductions and hazing… Fuck, fall semesters are so tedious even without living in the house. He’s never been a huge fan of it all, but he’s had this image to uphold since he became a pledge.

Now, Mike isn’t so sure he can keep that image in place.

He stays locked away for as long as he possibly can, but eventually there’s a knock on his front door—Erwin who shoots Mike a broad grin and wriggles his ridiculous eyebrows. “You ready, bro? Got a place all your own with no one to bother you—”

“You’re bothering me.”

“Can do whatever you want,” Erwin powers on, completely unfazed. “Bring back whoever you want, no pesky frat boys to get in your way ‘cause fuck those guys, right?” He goes to grab Mike’s shoulders while laughing at his own joke, but Mike swats him away.

It makes Erwin scoff, and then he’s pushing past Mike to get into his new home, looking around for just a second and breathing out a little, “Eesh,” before turning back and giving Mike a look of condescension. “Don’t tell me this bad mood is because of your little toy finding someone else.”

“Okay, firstly, fuck off,” Mike squints at him. “And, secondly, how do you already know about that?”

Erwin examines his manicured nails, buffs them on his shirt and tells Mike, “Saw her and Jaeger walking out of the bookstore earlier. They looked pretty cozy. Pretty giddy, too, all smiles and—”

“Shut. The fuck up.”

The other man snorts. “Calm down, dude. I’m sure you can get her back or whatever you’re trying to do. Zeke’s an assole. Won’t take her long to figure it out.”

“We’ll see.”

This time Mike lets Erwin clap a hand on his shoulder before he walks out but not without suggesting, “You really should brighten things up a little in here. Hang some fairy lights or something. Girls love fairy lights.”

Mike rolls his eyes, not bothering to remind his friend that he only started unpacking half an hour ago, then physically shoves Erwin out of his apartment.

So, you’re already walking around campus flaunting your new little fling, he thinks. Perfect. He’s really looking forward to seeing that everywhere.

Mike eventually has to go by the PKA house for a meeting. Some of the members are already discussing plans for rush week and parties. Should they have lists or just keep them open and direct everyone to the yard? Are they gonna stick to their regular forms of hazing or should they change things up this year? Did anyone stick out from spring? Mike doesn’t pay much attention, just scrolls through his phone skimming through the same three social media apps over and over. He reads through the text thread he shares with you, the one he’s never deleted, and thumbs all the way up to a few months ago just to see if anything had been different back then, if he had said or done something wrong.

But, he’s gone through it a dozen times already, and he never finds anything. Maybe you just grew while he was away, experienced some kind of self-actualization that prepared you for an actual relationship.

Or, maybe Zeke just has something that Mike doesn’t.

Mike runs into you on the second day of classes. Thankfully, you’re alone, and as soon as you catch sight of him, you grin widely and launch yourself at him. It comes as a surprise, your full weight hitting him square in the chest when you jump, and he has to catch you like you’re an excited child.

It’s too close. You’re too close. Body against his as you slide down to your actual height and rest your head on his chest.

“I missed you, Zacharias.”

He wants to lift you up again, lock your thighs around his waist and kiss you like he used to. Instead, Mike pats the top of your head and gently untangles you from himself. He makes sure to smile when you look up at him, and he’s glad you aren’t pouting or frowning, your expression soft when he tells you, “Yeah, I missed you too.”

He asks how your summer classes went. You ask what his course load is like this semester. It’s just small talk, and Mike hates it.

“How’re your parents?” You question like you’re interested, but he can’t imagine you actually are.

“They’re good,” he shrugs. “Dad got a promotion at work a few weeks ago. Mom is doing the same shit she always does.” Like, making his favorite meals to heal his poor little broken heart. Mike hadn’t even told her about the conversation he’d had with you, and yet, as soon as he came out of his room the following morning, she just knew.

“Glad to hear it,” you nod. “Hey, do you wanna grab lunch or something? My next class isn’t til two, so I’m tryin’ to kill some time.”

“Actually, I told Erwin I’d meet him,” Mike lies through his teeth. He’ll be using excuses like that for as long as he can. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cool,” you wave him off. “I’ll just grab Hitch or—”

“There you are.” Mike stiffens at the vaguely familiar voice ringing out from behind him, hand flexing by his side as the school’s golden boy walks right past him and to you. “I was looking all over for you.”

“Well, here I am,” you laugh, but Mike notes how forced it sounds. It’s a laugh that stems from nerves, he thinks. But why? Is it because Mike is here? Are you afraid of how he’ll act? Or, is it that you’re still in the phase of this “relationship” with Zeke that you’re still anxious around him?

The other man doesn’t even acknowledge Mike for a full twenty seconds. He heavily considers just walking away without a word, but the blond does eventually turn around to look at him and shows a smile that Mike would describe as slimy but you would probably call charming.

“Zacharias,” Zeke greets and holds out a hand. “It’s been a minute.”

Mike doesn’t like the way he says his last name. He only likes the way his friends say it. How you say it. Even if it started off as a way to keep your distance, he grew fond of it. Not as fond as his given name, of course, but hearing those four syllables from your mouth, always laced with attitude, never fails to make him smile.

“Yeah, it has,” Mike agrees, clasping hands with him.

He immediately feels Zeke stick his index finger out over his wrist, an attempt of taking control of the shake. Mike has seen it too many times to count, the petty attempt to flip hands so that one man’s is on top of the other. It’s a terrible way to flaunt one’s masculinity or power, and it’s never worked on Mike.

His hand is quite a bit larger than most people’s, after all. It’s definitely larger than Zeke’s, so when he tries to turn it, Mike doesn’t have a problem keeping his wrist straight.

The blond has to look up at him, actually tilt his head back because Mike has a good five inches on him, and after a couple more seconds, Zeke gives up on the pathetic display of dominance. That doesn’t stop Mike from squeezing his palm just a little too hard, though, just enough to see the muscles in Zeke’s jaw twitch.

When he lets go he chances a glance at you, finding you rubbing your temples. You mumble something Mike can’t hear, probably about men being stupid because there’s no way that little show escaped your notice.

Zeke steps over to you once again and asks the same question you had asked Mike—”You wanna get lunch, babe?”

Hearing him calling you that causes Mike’s blood to bubble in his veins, blistering from the inside out. It’s time for him to leave.

“Yeah, sure,” you nod. Eyes flicking back to Mike, you force another smile and tell him, “See you around.”

The two of you walk off, and Mike watches for just a little too long as Zeke laces his fingers with yours. Once you’re both a safe distance away, the fucker looks back at Mike from over his shoulder and smirks at him.

Mike has long legs. He could easily catch up to you and punch Zeke square in the jaw, make his head snap to the side so that he drops to the ground.

But, what would you think of that? There’s no way you’d be happy with him, and if there’s one thing that would be worse than Mike having to see you parade around with someone who isn’t him, it would be you ignoring him completely.

The first couple of weeks are honestly a blur. Too much is happening for Mike to focus on. The only thing that seems real to him is the ache in his chest. It distracts him day in and day out, through the late rushers and all the sucking up, through the first couple of parties, bid day and the first rounds of hazing. It’s just always there.

He is notably quieter when in the house, and it seems like everyone knows why. While Erwin pokes fun at him for his moodiness, Nile takes a more adult approach and simply asks how he’s doing, if he needs anything, going as far as offering, “You need me to punch that dude in the throat? Plant drugs in his bag? I’m pretty sure Gelgar has coke on his person at all times.”

He’s a good guy. Mike is glad he got voted in as PKA President this year despite Erwin giving him a run for his money. Nile is just personable enough to bring members in and have a good time at events, and just controlling enough to make sure things in the house are taken care of. Plus, Erwin doesn’t seem too broken up about getting Vice instead.

It’s a relief when lacrosse starts back up, finally gives him a way to get some of his frustration out. The other teams have never been luckier to be wearing helmets otherwise Mike would have broken several noses within the first game alone.

The season has some overlap with baseball, games scheduled on the same day, sometimes at the same time. Mike keeps himself from looking into the stands to try to find you, scared that you’ll be there or scared that you won’t be, he isn’t sure.

And, of course, Zeke’s face is plastered everywhere after he pitches a perfect fucking game. Mike wants to be angry, wants to spit on the flyers and punch every computer that’s displaying the college’s home screen, but if he’s being honest with himself, he knows that if it were anyone else, Mike would be impressed. Pitching a perfect game is pretty fucking cool, and the school is lucky to have a player as talented as Zeke, but god, what Mike wouldn’t do to just curbstomp him.

Your name still lights up on his phone fairly often to ask how games went or how his classes are going. You’ve asked for help with homework on one occasion and lunch on another, but after Mike lies about only being able to walk you through the material over the phone and shoots you down for lunch, you seem to get the picture.

He doesn’t want it to be awkward between you, but he doesn’t know how to act now. His entire relationship with you started off as a drunken fuck, and it’s been mostly physical since then. How is he supposed to be able to spend time with you without touching you? Even the semester you refused to hook up with him, there were still times when you were both actively fighting the temptation. Mike can remember seeing it in your eyes all the time, probably just as often as you’d see it in his. You’d sit with a leg pressed against his, fall asleep on his arm every once in a while, and he wants that back now, but there’s no way the two of you can do that anymore. He doesn’t possess the same self-control.

Over the weekend, you end up cracking and trying again, asking for help with studying for a quiz, and Mike has to contemplate it for at least fifteen minutes before he gives in.

Coffee shop on 7th? you text him, and Mike chuckles to himself. The only places you’ve ever studied together is at the library or in his room, and while he could only get as far as a hand between your legs in the school building, he would usually end up in bed with you whenever going over something behind closed doors.

It makes sense that you want to go to a busier place, more eyes to watch you. It’s irritating, but he understands.

Mike grabs one of his own textbooks from the previous year, the one he actually bought so that he could highlight and take notes in the margins, then makes his way to the little cafe.

He’s been to this particular shop many times before, with you as well as the girls who came before—the ones that never mattered. Mike easily spots you at a little table by the window, your own book and several papers spread out around you. When you see him, you grin then hurry to clear a space for him, organizing what Mike recognizes as reading guides.

“Hey, stranger," you greet.

Mike nods, eyes landing on the green hoodie you’re wearing, the one that covers too much of you, that spills over the tops of your legging clad thighs and hides your little hands. It’s his, but it’s always looked better on you. The fact that you still wear it makes Mike’s heart swell a tiny bit as he takes his seat. The sun is hitting you just right and making your face glow, making your eyes twinkle, and he doesn’t know if he can do this.

“So, what d’you need help with?” He prompts before he can make up his mind to turn right back around.

You slide one of the guides over to him and point out several circled questions. The blanks are filled in, but you ask him, “Why?” dramatically. “None of that makes sense to me.”

Mike laughs through his nose and glances at the page your textbook is flipped to so he can open his own.

“Why’d you keep your book from last year?”

He glances up before turning it to show the highlighted lines, the starred passages, the little annotations for better understanding.

“One, because I worked hard on making it better, and two,” he feels his mouth curl up, the teasing coming naturally when he tells you, “I figured you’d probably benefit from it.”

You squint at him, scrunching your nose up, and Mike takes a mental snapshot to tuck away.

“Rude,” you utter.

He raises his eyebrows and leans back in his chair. “I think ‘thank you’ is the term you’re looking for.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just explain this to me if you’re so smart.”

“You know I’m smart.”

Mike doesn’t understand where the casual back-and-forth is coming from. Is it easy because he's done it so many times before? Words tumble from his mouth before they actually cross his mind, and he’s both grateful (it’s better than the awkward small talk he thought he’d have to make) and worried. If he’s speaking without actually thinking things through, what else might he do before his brain catches up? Will he smooth hair out of your eyes? Will he brush his hand over yours? Will he stare at your lips for too long? All of those are habits he hasn’t managed to break yet, but he will break if he accidentally offends you by crossing any of these lines.

He sits with his hands tucked between his legs, only moving to flip a page or point something out with his pinky finger. He's reading upside down, and you're leaning over the tabe, staring at the book then staring at him. Mike tries to look through you instead of at you, but it's hard as you let out a little oh! when something clicks or pouting when it doesn't.

"I still don't get it."

So, Mike finds different ways of explaining things because he knows this information very well now. It's still pretty fresh in his brain, and he may or may not have reviewed some of it when he saw how many of your classes matched up with his.

"Okay, I feel a lot better," you sigh once Mike has gone through every page.

Mike is more or less sitting on his hands at this point, gritting his teeth behind the grin plastered on his face because this is the part where he asks if you wanna go back to the house. This is the part where you wind down together, watching dumb TV shows or pawing at each other, rolling in his bed and laughing and moaning. That's what's supposed to happen.

"Alright, well, if that's it, I should get going," Mike tries, stretching his arms out and nearly smacking the person sitting behind him right in the head.

You snort, cover your mouth, and look away. It's what you always do. You can't look at him when you start laughing or you'll just laugh harder and harder, and while Mike adores it, the general public usually does not.

But, then Mike is snickering because he can feel the stranger trying to burn holes in the back of his skull, has to bite his fist to keep himself quiet, and when you chance a glance and see, you slam your head down on the table, whole body shaking with giggles.

It's always the little things that get you. On one of the walks with Scout over Spring Break, Mike had tripped over a stick on the trail. He managed to catch himself, but Jesus Christ, you didn't stop laughing for ten minutes.

"God fucking—" he's starting to lose it too as he stands and gathers your supplies from the table, tucking them all under one arm then using his other to pull you out of your seat. "We have to leave before they make us."

You hide your face in your hands, trusting Mike to guide you by the shoulders, and once you're both outside, you belly laugh until you wave your arms and gasp, "I can't—I can't breathe—I can't breathe!" Your voice is all high pitched and hysterical, and all Mike can do is bring you to his chest so that you can let your giggles die off in the privacy of his t-shirt.

He can feel your breath through the material as you calm down, eventually looking up and wiping tears from your eyes as you continue to grin.

Mike tilts his face down to stare at you, aware that all of his affections are shining right through his eyes, but he doesn't care because you don't seem to.

“You’re a fucking dork,” he hums, has a fully conscious thought of touching your face—no accident, no impulse, a complete, coherent, thought, so he does it. He just does it. Palm over your cheek, thumb gently tracing to wipe away another tear from your little fit.

You let out a long exhale, close your eyes and hum, then reach up to cover Mike's hand with yours.

Your fingers lock into the spaces between his, and you hold on for a few seconds before letting your hand fall, taking his with it. And, just like that, all the good feelings that had grown inside of him over the course of the study session disappear.

"Miche," you sigh, still holding onto two of his fingers.

He smiles in a way that makes you frown, then mumbles, "Yeah, I know."

After handing your supplies back, Mike kisses you on the top of the head before you can stop him, then turns and starts walking toward the street his apartment is on.

"Why are you always wearing that hoodie?"

You look up from your laptop just as Zeke steps out of his room freshly showered and shirtless. It's a sight that should probably make your mouth water, but instead it's gone dry at his question.

"Oh, uh, I don't really know," you bullshit. "It's just big and comfortable, I guess."

Zeke uses the towel around his neck to dry his hair a little better, questions, "Well, whose is it?" while his face is slightly obscured.

If you pause, he'll probably be suspicious. If you answer, he will also be suspicious. And, you can't really blame him. People know you on campus as Mike Zacharias' friend or girlfriend or plaything or whatever. You assume Zeke having to walk around with that hanging over his head is pretty annoying.

"Oh, wait," he starts before you can answer. Squinting without his glasses, he grumbles, "That's one of the lacrosse hoodies, isn't it?"

You look down at the cracked logo and try not to smile at it. "Yeah. It's one of Mike's old ones."

"Right." He pads over to you and takes your laptop from your legs despite your protests of being in the middle of an online assignment, setting it on the coffee table behind him. Then, using one arm to brace himself on the back of the couch, Zeke holds himself above you and takes your chin between two fingers so that he can tilt your face and kiss you.

It makes you melt. It always does. Your heart beats like a drum in your chest for about two seconds before it relaxes into a subtle thrumming, a white noise that drowns out everything else.

You straighten your back in an attempt to get closer, but Zeke pulls away ever so slightly, makes you chase after his lips and you do. You do because you want more, want him.

It's been weeks now and the farthest you've gotten with him, the farthest he's let you get with him, was the series of harsh kisses he'd ladened you with up against his front door a few days ago. He'd pushed your shirt up and shoved a knee between your legs, giving you something to grind against, but it never progressed to anything more.

You don't understand. It's not like he's never had sex. You've heard girls talk about him on campus, how he'd been seeing so-and-so for a couple months in freshman year, fucked some other chick at a party, etc., etc.

Then you'd met his actual ex the other day, one he dated officially for a semester last year before breaking things off. Her name is Rhi. She's very pretty. And, she had pulled Zeke into a full blown conversation without looking at you once. The way she batted her eyes and smiled at him, twisting her hair and shoving at him playfully—Oh yeah. She's definitely seen him naked.

You didn't say anything about it for a while, just stewed in silence until Zeke finally sighed and asked, "What would you like to know?"

He'd given you the vague outline—met her in class, studied together, decided to date, left her to focus on baseball. That excuse hit a little too close to home, but you'd let it roll off your shoulders.

The point is Zeke has fucked other girls, but he won't fuck you, and you need to know why because you're starting to get desperate. It's not a good look. It's one you never wanted to wear, but the way he stares at you and the way he talks to you, always pointing out your strengths, encouraging you, complimenting you is intoxicating.

When Zeke's eyes are on you, it’s like you're the most important person in the room. He has some ability to make you feel that way, to make everyone feel that way you realized one night after a game. People flock to him. They want to listen to what he has to say. They want to agree with him where he can see.

It's hard to explain to anyone who hasn't met him, but the best way you can describe it (a way only a few people will understand) is that he has a twenty for charisma. He's talented and smart and engaging, can convince anyone of anything the same way he's convinced you that he wants you.

Hand slipping behind your arching back, Zeke presses you against him for just a moment, then drops onto the couch next to you only to tug you on top of him.

You're already breathing too heavily, clutching his face in both your hands as you grind your hips against his. He squeezes your ass, smirking against your mouth when you whimper, then moves his hands to push both the hoodie and your shirt off.

You lift your arms, letting Zeke strip you as your mind grows hazy. He mutters more to himself than to you, a low, "Get this shit off," then carelessly tosses your clothes over the armrest.

Fingers climb up your ribs, almost tickling, making you squirm in his lap. You can feel that he's getting hard, thank god. This just might be the night, please fucking let it be.

You've never been a big fan of terms like ‘blue-balls’ or ‘blue-bean’, never even thought it existed, and it really doesn't; it's just a form of manipulation, of guilting your partner into sex, and you know this because you've had an entire rant about it prepared since high school, but right now, in this particular moment, you're aching. Your insides ache. Your clit aches. You just want—

Zeke pinches one of your nipples hard enough to clear your head for a second, causes you to cry out and pull back. He lets go, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches you and flicks over the sore bud with a fingertip.

"Zeke," you breathe, body trembling.

"What is it, baby?" He coos.

"I—"

He snakes a hand between the two of you, ridding you of any and all thoughts as he rubs over your covered pussy. You're almost positive that if he keeps doing it, you'll start to leak through your leggings, right into his hand.

Panting, an old track plays in the back of your head, a deep voice, breathy and promising, gonna fuck you dry tonight.

You lean forward to kiss Zeke again, letting him suck and bite hard enough to make the frown on your face look natural, like he put it there.

Flames are licking up and down your legs, then your arms, but even though it's Zeke's lap you're sitting in and Zeke's tongue in your mouth and Zeke's fingers massaging your pussy, it's suddenly Mike you're thinking about, and well… That can't be good.

You tangle your hands in Zeke's hair, the different texture bringing you back to reality. His thick beard is scratching against your face. His bare torso is wiry with muscle and pressed to yours. He moves his hand and raises his hips to meet yours, a groan catching in his throat. It looks like he's finally losing his composure, cheeks flushed, eyes are foggy. When you break away, he licks away the string of spit holding you together, tongue running over his lip seductively.

"Can we—" you start, but Zeke speaks at the same time.

"It's getting late."

Blinking at him, you find yourself experiencing too many emotions to actually identify a single one. You feel your eyebrows knit together, but it’s more from your confusion than it is your frustration.

But, you don’t want to be frustrated. You don’t want to be or look upset about not getting sex. That would make you a terrible person, and you’re not about to make him feel bad for not being ready to take that step with you. You’ve been on the receiving end of that, and it doesn’t feel good.

The amount of times you’ve had to masturbate in the last few weeks is a little fucking ridiculous, though.

Nodding mostly to yourself to get your thoughts back in line, you slide off of Zeke to stand up. Your hand is trembling when you reach for your clothes, heat still coursing through you, but you manage to gently grab them from the couch rather than snatch them.

Shirt and hoodie back in place, you gather your things, feeling Zeke’s gaze on you the entire time. You don’t say anything, just nibble on your bottom lip as you run over all the events that took place over the night, what you possibly did wrong, what turned him off or just failed to turn him on in the first place.

After slipping everything back into your bag, Zeke finally gets to his feet and takes it from you, walking with you outside to your car.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he tells you, the picture of calm and collected while your body remains buzzing.

“Okay, yeah.”

He puts your stuff in the front passenger seat, shuts the door, and gives you a sweet little peck that you wish lasted longer.

Zeke says good night, begins walking back to the building, but stops and calls to you right before you shrink into the car.

Even from this distance, you can tell he’s looking you dead in the eye, face suddenly very serious when he tells you, “You can go ahead and stop wearing that hoodie.”

* For the first time since the semester started, lacrosse and baseball games do not overlap one another, and you're able to spend the warm afternoon in the stands, cheering on the friends you made over the last year.

The home team is dominating, Mike and Erwin are too fucking quick for their opponents to get in the way of. The way the ball just flies back and forth between them, like a game of keep-away, shows just how on-the-same-page they are. The other guys are good too, doing a spectacular job of staying one leg ahead, defending their star players and assisting in the offensive effort.

The last goal is made by Mike who launches the ball from the center of the field right into the goal, and both the crowd and the teams lose their fucking minds.

You're up on your feet screaming and clapping, voice breaking as your shrill cry tears your throat. You know you're being drowned out by everyone around you, but as Mike gets lauded for being the god he is—putting up with backslaps and hugs and a headlock from Erwin—he still manages to find you in the second row, grinning in that crooked way you love so much.

You don't know exactly when that started happening, probably sometime after Spring break. Or, maybe it was there since the beginning, just laying dormant at the back of your head so that you could focus on denying him.

It doesn't really matter now since you're actually with someone. That someone isn't around right now, but he's in your thoughts as your chest fills with affection and pride for your friend.

Erwin is shouting about another open party, and your mind is made up to not attend because Zeke wouldn't appreciate it, but then Mike is suddenly lifting himself onto the raised, concrete stands and pointing at you, and before you know it, you're hopping down the next bleacher without a care for the fans who have to lean out of the way.

He's incredibly sweaty as you wrap your arms around his neck, but you don't mind. You were so convinced he would be mad at you or try to avoid you.

You're very aware that you had hurt him by getting with Zeke, and while he had been pretty guarded for the first few weeks, he's opened up some since that day in the coffee shop, when you'd nearly giggled yourself to death. You hadn't expected that to be what cracked his walls, especially considering how that visit had ended, but you're glad that it did.

"Haven't seen you cheering for me in a while," Mike laughs next to your ear.

He's dizzy with adrenaline, swaying back and forth as he squeezes you, and you tell him, "If you make us fall, I will beat you up, I swear."

"Okay," he says in a stupid voice of obvious disbelief, "Whatever you say."

You've been texting more, going over homework together, though you haven't needed his help in-person since he had switched books with you that day. It had been so smooth and subtle, you didn't realize until you opened it to study the following day, immediately noticing all the notes and highlights.

It had made you cry like a little bitch in the middle of your dorm, and you called Mike to thank him without bothering to hide your tears and hiccups.

"Come to the party tonight," he demands, but it's so soft, like he's still giving you a chance to say no.

The crowd is still yelling, so you have to keep speaking into each other's ears, and you ask, "Why? All the Pike parties are sticky and gross."

"'Cause we haven't gotten drunk together in a while," Mike states in the form of a whine.

You snort, feeling his hair dripping onto your shoulder. You should probably be disgusted, but it's not the first time you've gotten sweaty with him, and it's definitely not the worst bodily fluid he's made a mess on you with.

"You know what happens when we get drunk together," you remind him with a smile he can't see. "Can't do that anymore."

"I promise I'll behave."

That's not the problem. You don't know if you can behave. You've been wound up for over a month now, and it is driving you insane. No matter how many times you get off alone in your room at night, you still ache as if you're being edged.

So, getting fucked up with someone you know for a fact can fuck you stupid… probably not the best idea.

"Miche," you protest, drawing his name out.

"Just think about it."

He leaves you with that, hopping down and walking away with his arms in the air as everyone surrounding you cheers for him until he disappears. You just stand there amidst the noise, shirt now wet as you contemplate the pros and cons of going to another PKA party.

As always, Zeke asks what your plans are for the night, but for the first time since you met him, you lie. * King's Cup and Rage Cage and Beer Pong galore. Party-goers are pooling onto the lawn, and you're just waiting for campus police to show because of the chaos, but you're not necessarily scared of it. So you go to jail for a couple days. Worse things could happen.

Currently, you and Mike are sitting on the sidewalk nursing beers and giggling at the new pledges who keep running around the house in less and less clothes.

"Honestly, this isn't that bad," Mike tells you. "Erwin suggested we make them all watch snuff together."

You give him an incredulous look as you raise the glass bottle to your mouth. "Erwin is a god damn psychopath, what the fuck."

"We had to do it and didn't turn out too bad."

"And, just like that, I'm scared of you."

Mike laughs before sticking two fingers in his mouth and whistling as a brawny blond speeds past in nothing but boxers—Reiner, you think his name is.

There are only a few new guys who stick out to you—that one, a long-faced kid named Jean, freckle boy Marco, and, naturally, Zeke's younger brother, Eren. He sorta skeeves you out, so you've been doing your best to stay out of his sight despite never formally meeting him before.

"Kid's kind of a prick, a little too cocky. Always talking about how he's related to Zeke, or should I say your lo-ver," Mike chuckles, sounding amused, but he still downs the rest of his beer afterward.

You let out a little growl, just drunk enough to be too honest, and grumble, "Not my lover. Also, I would never use that term. So cringey."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's weird and dramat—"

"No," Mike cuts you off, "What do you mean about him not being that?"

You fall back on the concrete, bumping the back of your head a little too hard and scrunching your face up.

"We haven't had sex. The dude just will not fuck me for some reason."

"Are you serious?"

You glance at Mike and find his eyes wide in alarm.

"As a heart attack. I have never been so frustrated in my entire life."

You probably shouldn't be talking about this with him, one, because you assume it's like twisting a knife right in Mike's gut and two, because the more you drink, the less self-control you have.

He grunts then tosses his bottle into the yard for some poor pledge to slip on.

"His loss."

"Whatever. I'm sure he'll come around eventually," you sigh then sit back up. "And, until then, I guess I'm practicing celibacy or some shit."

Mike laughs hard at that, and it makes you smack him on the arm. "Yeah, good luck with that."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying," he raises his hands. "You're, like, the neediest person I know."

"Excuse the fuck outta me?"

"In the bedroom, dummy. Obviously not all the time."

This is not at all where you wanted this conversation to go. The more you think about it, the more you feel that ache, the more you want to quell it.

"We should change the subject."

Mike looks at you, flipping hair out of his eyes and smiling like the cocky frat boy he pretends to be.

"Why? Gettin' all worked up."

"You are literally the worst."

You stand and finish your drink, throwing it a few feet away from Mike's as you tell him, "I need to get a little more fucked up if I'm gonna deal with your ass all night."

"Uh huh."

He follows you back inside, but while you make your way into the kitchen, Mike stops to talk with Erwin about one thing or another. It means he has to entertain the masses, talk about the game, and you post up against a wall to watch him.

You should leave. Mike is looking a little too attractive in his stupid fucking pastel polo, and you're supposed to meet Zeke for lunch tomorrow anyway. Zeke, your boyfriend.

Or, well, he hasn't said it explicitly, but you hold hands in public and ignore other people, just make it obvious that both of you aren't interested in anyone else.

Except when Mike sidles up to you with foggy eyes and a smirk he hasn't worn around you in a long time, you groan at the thought that you are interested in someone else. Even if it's just one night, god, you need it so bad. And, you know Mike can give it to you. Exactly the way you want it.

It's Zeke's fault, really. You know he knows how desperate you're getting. If he'd just explain why he doesn't want to have sex, you could deal with it much better than you are now, but he continues to leave you in the dark. It makes you think you're doing something wrong.

Then, there's the problem of feeling like the shittiest person alive every time you get frustrated. You've spent nights trying to rationalize it, but it's hard to think straight when you're so, undeniably horny.

"Don't look at me like that," you tell Mike with a scoff.

"Why not?"

"'Cause you said you'd behave tonight."

He cocks his head to the side and makes a face. "Did I? That doesn't sound like something I'd say to you."

"Oh my god, you're impossible. And, drunk."

"I'm not really that drunk," he waves you off. "It takes more than a few beers to get me fucked up, remember? Downfall of being this large."

Jesus, he really is rubbing it in your face now. Wide with muscle and so fucking tall. Not to mention his—

"I really cannot do this, Miche," you try again, gritting your teeth when his pupils dilate. "Zeke would be so pissed."

"So? Come on, just one more time. I didn't know the last time would be the last time."

You hadn't either. You don't know what you would have done differently had you known—maybe just taken the time to appreciate his incredible body more—but it doesn't matter now.

You try to sound firm and irritated when you snap, "You know you're being kinda manipulative, right?"

Mike tilts his head back as if you just shoved it, blinks a couple times, then swears out loud. "Oh, fuck." He takes a step away, eyes clear for the first time in several minutes. "I'm sorry. I didn't even—"

"It's fine," you wave. "I just wanted you to know. I'm drunk and you're hot, and I don't wanna fuck things up with Zeke."

"Yeah, I get it. Fuck. If you, like, wanna leave, I won't stop you. It was a joke, and then it wasn’t a joke and—That was a shit thing to do."

"Little bit, but you get a pass this time," you laugh through your nose. "Just don't go pulling that bullshit on some unsuspecting freshman or anything."

He runs a hand through his hair, red with embarrassment, and you think to yourself, Mike is a good guy. One of the best. You don't know of many who would take that kind of criticism to heart—how many would feel genuinely guilty. It is college, and every girl knows the trend of fratty sports players getting off scot-free after being charged with sexual assault. Given his status at the school, Mike could definitely do something like that and get away with it.

But, he would never.

You push him gently to show you aren't mad, tell him, "I still wanna hang out with you. We don't get to as much as we used to."

Mike's small smile looks relieved as he takes a deep breath. "This isn't exactly the best place to just chill, but—"

"I haven't seen your new apartment yet."

You regret it as soon as it comes out of your mouth, your little tune changing ridiculously quickly, but you can't deny that you're curious. He's still your best friend, and you want to know what he's done with his new place. Is it bland like his old room in the house, or did he let his real personality show through?

"You sure?" He questions.

"Yeah. We can just, like, play video games or something."

"Are you sure?"

He must feel terrible. You can relate.

"If you don't want me over, just say so," you snort.

"No, no, of course I do. I just don't want you to feel weird about being alone or anything."

"Nah, like you said, you're not really drunk. I'll sober up with water. We'll be fine."

You don't know if you're trying to convince him or yourself. Without the presence of alcohol, you should be able to keep it together, and the distraction of Zelda or Mario will surely help.

"Okay, yeah," Mike nods. "Let's go then."

You don't even bother finishing your drink, just set it on a countertop and follow him out to his Wrangler. It's been a while since you've ridden in it. It's been a while since you've ridden him, your brain helpfully supplies, and as you pull up to the unfamiliar apartment complex, you once again begin to think that this was a bad idea.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk x reader

186 notes · View notes

gillian-greenwood · 3 years

Text

My Episode 7 Predictions!

Mother of God! How have these weeks passed by so fast?! I've decided to share what I think will be answered tomorrow night and some of the fates of our beloved characters! The series has gotten off to an even bigger success than it's predecessor and EVERYONE'S talking about it! Without further ado, let's see what I'm predicting!

Who's H/fourth man (or woman) and will we find out?

The question that's on the nation's minds. That has been boggling us since 2017... My personal prediction still stands as CC Philip Osborne, however... I think he's purely sitting on his arse and pulling the strings, whilst others are doing his dirty work. Those people are Patricia Carmichael: who in all honesty I'm manifesting isn't actually bent but is so career driven and a bit of a lick arse that she's just taking orders and not questioning anything, plus she doesn't think much of Ted either... I have joked that she's been shagging Osborne on the side which would be quite funny. I also believe Buckells has been Osborne's true scape goat for years. Someone as laid-back and unpassionate as Buckells is easily manipulated - I mean how the hell has he become a super? As Steve rightfully says, he couldn't order a piss up in a brewery. Seeing the connections go well back into the early noughties whilst Buckells was part of an oasis tribute band, it's an easy conclusion to make. Lastly I will mention Thurwell, now I think Thurwell may have been more involved on his own doing anyway but I think he'd still been pretty busy doing things on behalf of Osborne up until his alleged death in sunny Spain (Belfast but shh). I know a lot of people still think Buckells, some reckon pas-agg Pat is the top woman... and a few still think our beloved Kate is 'H'.

Now the other part of my point is actually finding out... I think us as viewers will certainly know the identity of this mysterious individual. But, I think we'll find out in the very last few seconds and poor AC12 won't be any the wiser which will open up the foundations for a possible series 7. I think a lot of things will be answered for us viewers but not everything for the characters. I know that if they had a series 7 there would be an other primary focus but I just think it would be clever. Just like how we found out as viewers at the end of series 1 that Dot was a wrong'un.

Is Thurwell really dead?

I'm still very amazed by the whole induction of Jimmy Nesbitt as a series of photos. I know we were supposed to have a secretive guest actor appearance and I believe it was Robert Carlyle's name floating about which would have been insane! But that moment we saw Jimmy, I yelled at the screen. So, this answers the question of seeing a character that had only been mentioned previously - which has been very much hiding in plain sight. Even with a rewatch, I had forgotten about Thurwell and therefore hadn't even considered him. But, I did mention the list from series 3 which did loosely tie in. Anyway, when we learned that Thurwell and his Mrs were now dead and clearly had been for a while - it was cleverly shot so we didn't see who it was, only the Spanish Police's word. You know, I think if we were to get a series 7, Thurwell could appear and he's in fact not dead. It's very rare you get a very well known actor in for something so small without it leading to bigger things. Although, they got Andi Osho, a very much loved comedian in purely for archival photos and videos... I do feel that Thurwell could have easily been on the other end of the fake MSN, and doing Osborne's dirty work - especially with the Spanish connection. In a BTS photo we have seen a clue to a piece of paperwork regarding a time share (Spain mentioned) in front of Kate which will likely have a connection to Thurwell and Spain. I think he's possibly still alive but we'll see...

Joanne Davidson

Kelly Macdonald has been welcomed with a very warm reception. Wow, her connection to Tommy Hunter (albeit disturbing, homozygous DNA... nasty business) was not something I ever expected although I guessed very much so when we learned of the DNA match with a nominal. Would I define her as bent? I mean in layman's terms, yes she is. However each guest star has had a very complicated relationship with the definition - all have done dodgy things and usually for good reason... But I do sympathise with her because of her background, born into trouble, it was very hard to escape - even if her mum took her to Scotland for a life away from it all. From the very start of her career she was doing the OCG's bidding and it transpires she was in the police on Tommy's orders - so very much another caddy. I do feel Jo had always wanted to be a good person and do right and in some ways she did - however she's in too deep. Next I'll mention her relationship with Kate and it's something I'd never have predicted. A lot of suggestive and sapphic behaviour from the off. Now, I do think Jo cares deeply for Kate and has developed strong feelings - and I think Kate deep down has also but I don't think anything will happen sadly. And that's more for the fact that they had run out of track before they could even get going as so much has happened. Kate's gonna save Jo when her transport gets ambushed, that's a given... but I don't think we'll see anything happen that we want to happen. I hope I'm very wrong and we get something but with the hour we've got I don't think it'll be the case. And as for her fate? I think she'll survive. Guest leads usually die, eventually... with the exception of Roz who's serving time with one arm in Brentiss. Giving how unfortunate her life has been from her conception, I think it'll do her justice to escape with her life. Witness protection? Hmm perhaps... Although I think she's done enough dodgy stuff to warrant a prison stretch. Will she be instrumental in revealing who the fourth dot is? Well yeah actually, I think she grew up thinking Thurwell was her dad... and of course having connections to both Osborne and Buckells. Jo joined the force just before the turn of the millennium so would have been a copper when the Lawrence Christopher case occurred in 2003. Even though not directly working with them, I'm sure she knew what was going on and would have come across Osborne and Buckells at that time. I have a strong inkling that she knows exactly who she's been talking to and has been under their wing since the start. If she dies I will be gutted.

Kate

Where are we going with Kate? Well she's just killed Ryan (lawfully) and has gotten away with it. But Carmichael isn't thick... and nor is Steve and Ted. They all know but I think that'll be that for now. For ages I thought she was gonna D word but I think she's gonna be alright now. I hope that somehow she gets back into anti-corruption permanently because that's where she's best suited. I'm shocked that she hasn't had a glass box spectacular - my predictions for her to be accused of being bent and all that were way off the mark... and not a single mention of the two dying declarations... With only an hour tomorrow and so much to deal with, I guess that's not going to be mentioned. And Kate ain't gonna be sanctioned either. But, there's always opportunity with a series 7... She'll definitely be back in AC12, interviewing... I can't see all the BTS photos being Jed Herrings. But we'll see tomorrow!

Steve

Poor Steve eh? He's not had an easy time of it. Addicted to painkillers as I rightfully predicted, unable to trust his gaffer, torn on a transfer and a up and down friendship with his 'mate'. Oh and the car, actually let's not talk about the Mazda... Anyhow I believe that Steve will talk about his back and recent struggles with meds after a lot of emails from occupational health. Will he get pulled off the job at the last second because he didn't book an appointment... yeah I think that might happen and Kate takes his place or something. But there is a counsellor or something credited so I'm pretty certain on that. Will he lose his long overdue promotion? It's possible! I don't think the test was going to come back as a fail but more of a cause for concern - just that the levels of codeine etc in his system was higher than it should and it would be best advised to talk to someone. We haven't seen much pill taking going on since the drugs test so has Steve been going cold turkey? Or have they just veered away from that part of the story? In all fairness he's appeared fine with his back since the Windermere convoy - he ran across an industrial estate... I mean. I hope Steve gets a glimmer of hope and happiness because he rightfully deserves it. Ever since the start he's had his fair sharing of aggro and he deserves a break. I do think however he may be partly responsible for nailing the final nails into Ted's coffin - especially after he discovered the 50K up Merseyside and the truth from Lee Banks. I think he could be potentially happy with Steph, it would be nice for something to happen with them but we'll see. Steve needs a big hug.

Ted

This is going to pain me saying it. But, I don't think Ted is going to make it to the end. His retirement is inevitable. I can see the argument of the retirement being rescinded if they unmask the fourth dot etc and solve stuff but realistically, he's past retirement age. He's so focused on getting to the end of this marathon that I don't think he will see it through and know who it is - because he'll... yeah I don't need to say it. How? I've been saying his heart is gonna pack in. He's going to be in deep trouble over that 50k because Steve and Kate know the truth. But why would the likes of Carmichael find out... Well we've seen a clue of 'definate' on some paperwork - I reckon Ted by coincidence also makes this spelling mistake often as it is one of the most commonly misspelt words and therefore will be in the 'H' running again - he wont be 'H' as I reckon Osborne makes the same mistake... He alleges he misspelt it cos he studied the texts carefully but I think he spelt it how he usually would. They'll all go down the wrong path and accuse him which will lead to his ultimate downfall. Another little teaser is Steve appearing to listen to Ted's 2019 glass box spectacular however notably Carmichael says AC12 interview and not AC3... so mixing two different interviews to tease us? Maybe Ted might feel he has no choice but to sacrifice his career for the truth. However it all gets too much. Lies cost lives... I can't see Ted going on from beyond here and Ted was always supposed to be a minor character until he was very well received by the audience and he was made a main character. Realistically, his story is told and he's at his endgame. I hope he survives, by god I do... He's one of the most loved fictional characters at present. But I have a really bad feeling and I'm worried! It seems a total Jed thing to do for Ted to meet his end without ever finding the truth... seeing that's what his heart has been set on for about four years... I'm sorry to even be going there but it's what I think will happen. And I want to be wrong.

Miscellaneous Predictions

I want to round this all off with other little points. Carmichael won't be bent, maybe still involved with anti-corruption, you love to hate her, there's so much more they could do with her character. I don't think Steph's dodgy at all, she's just a widow whose been helped out by Ted in an unlawful way. I think her and Steve would be well suited. I hope Chloe will get to the end and continue on in anti-corruption, she's got a lot of potential. If Osborne isn't sussed, I reckon he'll still be CC. DCC Wise isn't bent either, just getting on with her job. But if Osborne does get caught and I'm wrong, there will be a lot of chaos for both him and Wise. Farida gets out of jail and starts afresh. Buckells I reckon will get out but won't be apart of the police force anymore. Lomax isn't bent, just a regular cop trying to get the work done. The rest of Jackie's remains will be found under the workshop floor, maybe with someone else? God knows who. Or maybe with some evidence that helps lead AC12 on the right track. Steve will still be an officer and Kate will be back where she belongs. There's probably more but my head hurts.

Will there be a series 7?

Yes.

Thank you all for reading my jumbled thoughts all packed into a text post. I'm nervous but excited for tomorrow night's finale. Let's see if I get anything right... probably not...

16 notes · View notes

halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

All in the Family

Chapter 119: Occlumency

Frank still felt like he was falling and moving for a very long time even after he felt the cold surface on his face, and pushed himself onto hands and knees.

They were almost in total darkness, only the burn of a blue light leaving streaks across their eyes and slowly dimming to guttural torches in the wall barely illuminated anything. It was just shadows on top of nothingness, the floor they were on had the exact same depth and shape as the endless black ceiling above. Padfoot was almost indistinguishable except his flashing eyes.

When finally he did get unsteadily to his feet and offered Alice a hand up, their eyes only just dimly took in the doors surrounding them on all sides, and they all huddled closer together in the center. Nobody was going to ask if they should try those out.

Nobody declared where they were for reassurance, but nobody was being attacked either. They just hovered in this endless void until finally the silence became too much. Alice needed a sense of purpose right now, so she took an uneasy breath, and summoned the book to her.

There was no telling which direction it zoomed from, it just blended in too well with this place. Frank lit the tip of his wand for a better light source than those dusky blue flames, but the chapter title illuminated nothing, they'd never heard of Occlumency.

Regulus frowned in sympathy for Kreacher being found up in the attic after all this time, and wondered if his old elf missed him and was hiding in his favorite spot. Had his parents even mourned his passing, or instead toasted his goodbye as a good one, since he'd died doing exactly what they wanted? Did Sirius even care, or was he still busy mourning Potter and had only mentioned him as a passing thought? Was Kreacher the only one in that place who would even miss him?

He wasn't the only one noticing this detail though, and caught Peter's eyes which were just as worried.

Peter didn't at all like how this was so utterly dismissed by the Sirius in the book, nor how everyone in here just scoffed at his name again and passed over it. He couldn't entirely blame them, after his shrine felt like an extra blow to the back, but his thoughts lingered on Dobby. He may have been the first house-elf they'd heard doing such a thing as going behind their master's back, but that didn't mean he'd be the only one.

Everyone's attention was diverted to the latest development, Snape. Taking private lessons with Harry?!

"Dumbledore's really trying to kill my kid, isn't he?" James asked faintly. His three friends shivered in particular disgust for how pale he suddenly looked in this shadowy place, it really brought up the ghost in him he'd be at the time.

"Oh don't be so dramatic!" Lily rolled her eyes at him, she was even smiling of all things. "This is the kindest thing I've heard Sev do this whole time! He doesn't like being around Harry, but he's taking the time to teach him personally!"

Frank couldn't help but still think her rather naive. After everything they'd heard him doing, she still somehow thought that?

It wasn't just his utter amazement though.

"Don't be daft Evans!" Potter actually snapped at her. "I'm starting to wonder if Occlumency is a poison he's going to slip him or something, how can you even pretend he's still even a decent person after all he's done!"

She riled up in frustration, and to everyone's amazement the two began a bickering round, but one they hadn't seen in quite some time now. The last fight they'd really had was back on the Knight Bus, and he'd believed just as firmly as she had the crimes Sirius had been accused of. A lot had changed since then.

Clearly not enough.

In the meantime they'd been almost passively ignoring each other, even cordial the past few interactions. Whoever would have thought he'd now find himself agreeing with James Potter Lily still needed a reality check.

He'd been proven to be a Death Eater in the last book, had been nothing but an arse to her own kid plus theirs and everyone else in that school given any opportune moment, and that really wasn't any different than back in their time at school now. No matter how much she kept saying he wasn't really like that around just her, Frank wondered what it would take for her to see being one way to everyone but one person didn't make it okay.

"Lily, hun," Alice finally stepped forward, placing her hand gently on her arm, and Lily tensed up and turned sharply to throw her off before she caught herself, stopping at the last moment before slapping her hand away. She took several deep breaths and was nearly fighting back tears.

She was well aware this was a last, pitiful defense in a long stream of issues she had with Sev. She looked Alice in the eye, and took another steadying breath. She did not want to lose their friendship, she couldn't just keep lashing out at everyone when she knew full well they agreed with the Marauders.

Turning almost calmly back to him now, she cleared her throat and said with at least an attempt at a peaceable tone, "Severus saved Harry's life in his first year," she needlessly reminded. "You bent over backwards for him," she gestured to the black dog, "and you've obviously made some sort of peace with your friends no matter the shit they do," she didn't need to gesture at Pettigrew. "Can you not bloody pull your head out of your arse and try to see Sev might be trying."

She spoke that to everyone, maybe without the insults intended at Frank and Alice.

James did not look impressed, and he spoke without thinking, "My friends haven't been inducted into Death Eater's already like Snape is! Remind me Sirius, about Snape being involved in Mary's-" Then he whirled on the spot with a look of panic and half shouted, "wait!"

Too late, Sirius had long been looking for an excuse to change back, and backing up Prongs was more than good enough in his opinion. With a little pop he stood before them on two legs once more, and everyone except his three friends backed away in shock at the sight.

His pallor eerily resembled that of a corpse in this pathetic lighting, the long dark hair hiding even more well whatever gray should be in his eyes. His clothes were half torn to shreds adding to the gruesome sight, and Remus ran to him at once in concern. If he'd started to change back too early, if their worrying had been obsolete this whole time and he'd actually bitten him-

Sirius doubled over in pain, the retort lost on his lips as he hadn't been expecting it to hurt that badly, but he quickly tried to wiggle out of the worried hands tugging his shirt aside. There were scars beneath, but no bite marks, he already knew that, he could feel the difference.

"Stop moving you idiot," James blustered as he grabbed him practically in a head lock so Remus could see clearly. Peter was already in place, wand tip lit as close to his side as he could without being in Remus's way.

"What's the matter Prongs, finally admitting I'm prettier than Evans?" He tried to grumble, but it came out more as a pathetic huffing.

James squeezed, and Sirius yelped, but more in surprise as something cool began tracing along his side, and the burning finally dulled to a throbbing. He couldn't properly see what Moony was applying, but whatever it was he released a breath he'd been holding in for a very long time and sagged in relief in James' arms, though he'd eat one of those flames rather than admit it.

"If I knew you lot were worried about a real bite, I'd have ignored Prongs's idiocies right away and told you. I think I'd know the difference." He patted James's arm, and he marginally relaxed his grip. They'd all been bitten by Moony at some point, and the burn of that injury always lasted longer than any other kind. Yet Moony had bitten Wormtail on the ear in that cage and he'd immediately changed back, and despite his own losing consciousness there at the end, he was still confident he'd been a dog and stayed one long enough there were no side effects.

Regulus watched in fascination as they fawned over him, until finally he was released from their clutches and he stood back up with a grin and smoothed out his hair. He and Sirius had never even been hugged by mother, and father's only usual affection was a firm pat on the shoulder which Sirius hadn't received since before his time in school. How did he stand others being all over him?

Lily stared as he showed such care for his friend, and couldn't even bring herself to tense up again as he turned wearily back towards her like he expected her to start all over again. Instead she wrung her hands for a moment and tried a new approach. "He can change," she wanted to believe that so bad, that he'd go back to the way he was before he started hanging around those awful pre-Death Eaters. "Give him a chance to prove it."

He tapped his foot, ran his hand through his hair, and twitched uneasily, but his eyes never left her steady gaze. "Shall I only curse him for the shit I know he's done?"

She didn't laugh like he'd been hoping, but there was the smallest twitch to her mouth that could have just been another flicker of azure. She turned back to Longbottom and gave Alice a friendly nudge, the two beginning to whisper finally where on Earth they could possibly be as Alice went on reading about Sirius and Snape nearly brawling in that kitchen before Arthur came in.

He'd meant it, in as much as he could. If that git was the reason Harry never had to see another attack like Arthur's, hell, he'd probably go thank the slimeball. He just didn't believe it would be possible, even if he did make a valiant effort not to sneer in disgust about how he treated Harry that first Monday night, insulting him at nearly every question, surely making the answers needlessly complicated. He didn't have any proof Snape was making Harry feel as stupid as possible as he explained the concept of mind reading, never having heard of this branch of magic personally, but surely the arse didn't have to give Harry zero preparation for what was to come other than 'prepare yourself!'

Remus and Sirius stayed close to James in case he spontaneously combusted from trying to keep hold of himself. He hadn't even seemed to hear Sirius had passed Harry something along in the book, possibly even their mirrors based on the little description given, and barely acknowledged Harry's hilariously pitiful attempts to get together with Cho. He was just focused very intently on Evans and trying to keep his scowl at least as well-hidden as the two of them holding hands while the shadows provided the cover.

Lily certainly didn't notice Potter's efforts, she kept her back to the lot to hide her own shame-filled face as it all somehow turned out even worse than any of them could have imagined. Harry was in even more intense pain and suffering as Severus dragged out flashes of old, horrible memories, and he never gave a single second of caring!

Harry's revelation managed to shock some of the despair out of her that she'd made an arse out of herself again, that Harry's consistent dreams of the long dark corridor ending in a locked door was actually in the Ministry of all places, down near the old courtrooms. She wasn't the only one who shivered with distaste, they didn't need to imagine Harry's dream anymore, wherever they were was a pretty oddly comparable place, it just housed many doors.

"You think that's where we are?" Frank finally asked, quietly enough like he was trying to let the guttering flames drown out his voice. "The Department of Mysteries?"

"Harry's been dreaming of this place," Regulus slowly agreed, "and Arthur was attacked at work on guard duty."

"Merlin's beard, what is this place?" Alice whispered, revolving slowly on the spot with just a tinge of curiosity now. You-Know-Who wanted to get into here, was the weapon behind one of these doors?

Frank grabbed her hand to keep her at his side, but he could see the others all eyeing different doors now too. "Let's get to the last sentence," he said all in a rush, almost pleading with the others not to do something so foolish and have them all wind up almost dead all over again. "Then we can, try a few doors, poke around just a little. But if anything, anything starts to look bad, I'll finish and get us out of this."

"That's fair," James finally agreed. Nobody moved towards the doors anyways, but even though he'd spoken for the others, he seemed the least curious of all, eyes still on Lily.

"Can we at least all agree we're honorary Unspeakables now just for being in here?" Sirius asked with a wide grin, causing all of them to snort in surprise at him.

Harry's lesson with Snape was dismissed, Harry was feeling almost as sick as when he'd seen the attack on Arthur as he joined Ron and Hermione for homework, that barely lasted a page before he was feeling so feverish he went off to bed.

Then it happened again, more vibrant even than when Harry had felt You-Know-Who's mood in the locker room. Harry was sprawled on the floor with laughter that wasn't his, and pain that he couldn't escape when Ron found him.

Lily shivered and pressed her hand to her mouth to stop herself from screaming. Two rounds of Occlumency with Severus and this happened moments later, was it a coincidence? Was he really still a Death Eater through and through? What was going to happen to her son because of it?

Alice came to the final line and was more than glad not to speak that aloud, turning to the others and nodding now was the best opportunity they were going to get. Some more reluctantly than others, they all went to a different door, and pushed. Nothing happened.

They weren't really surprised, but some were more disappointed than others as she finished with the nightmarish statement that You-Know-Who was happier than he'd been in fourteen years.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #HP #Marauders #OotP #Wolfstar #Jilly #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Regulus Black #Peter Pettigrew #Lily Evans #Alice Smith #Frank Longbottom

3 notes · View notes

pianjeong · 4 years

Note

Making it angsty. JJ defects (and by default they break up) and then a few years later he shows up to a White Lotus meeting and sees his ex and it's just the Spiderman pointing meme

oh BOY ANGST PART 2.....im gonna say this is a continuation of this post so some things might make more sense if u read that one first

but. they haven’t seen each other for Years at this point. and people have stopped whispering - well, also bc piandao’s shut himself up in the villa and only comes out to take his swords to market probably - and it’s all very depressing. because on one hand, if jj had just gone on and finished out his navy career he probably would’ve went down in the books as just the admiral and the prodigy which is just not the vibe (that’s the thing he’s sensitive about!). but this way he goes down as the deserter and gets forgotten and like. he just deserves so much better than either of those and piandao just wishes that he could’ve stayed with him. reminded him that he doesn’t need to be any of what people say he is.

idk how long after the desertion that this might happen... but i think at this point piandao’s trying to internalize the fact that those (heady golden) days are over and it’s v likely that he never sees jj again. and then he gets inducted into the white lotus and shows up at a meeting and wait a second that hair looks familiar - oh shit. it’s the spiderman pointing meme......but with feelings.

for one: bitch, you joined a secret society without me? i understand that we have not been speaking and also that we ended up in the same secret society anyway, but STILL. seriously? you could’ve sent a noTE

but for two: are you fuckign kidding me i was just starting to get over you except i really really wasn’t and i already sorta knew i never would but now here you are and i don’t know what to say.

and while piandao is thinking the above jj is in Conflicted Town because seeing him is a reminder of a version of himself that no longer exists and that he has very conflicted feelings about - was relatively happy, and successful, and had at least one person who cared about him, but also had approximately -2 perspective on life as well as the harm he caused to other people. he still feels astronomical levels of guilt for leaving him behind without saying anything but now they’re in the same room again and he can’t quite remember why he hadn’t at least written because that’s still the guy he spent a summer falling in love with and years writing to and now years missing and what is happening.

that first meeting is very awkward for both of them for obvious reasons. they keep kinda Looking at each other across the tent but refuse to engage and everyone else is like ????? and it keeps on being awkward honestly bc they aren’t sure how to act around each other anymore - they’re both convinced that the other one has moved on already and doesn’t want to be the first to initiate.

the other members pick up on it and one time they scheme to leave them alone in the tent and it is just so gd awkward. and piandao keeps trying to reach out and make small talk or whatever and he gets monosyllables in return. but jj doesn’t break eye contact the entire time and eventually piandao snaps and is like “why are you looking at me like that” bc it’s so much like when jj would just sit and stare at him back when they were together and he would like to not think about that thanks. and jj just keeps looking at him, and doesn’t say a word. until in the smallest voice he just says “i’m sorry.”

and piandao’s just utterly taken aback because what? he’s never know jj to apologize for anything. and like an idiot he’s like “what?”

and jj jumps to his feet (and if he’d still been bending probably would’ve set sth on fire) and goes “i’m fucking sorry, okay? but i had to leave. i was just trying to protect you. you didn’t need to pay for my mistakes.” and there are so many things wrong with that but piandao knows that that’s not what he needs to be saying right now. so once he’s processed he just gets up and goes around the table and hugs him. and says “i forgive you” because he wasn’t angry and now that he knows this is what jj thinks he just wants so much for him to know that piandao doesn’t blame him for it at all. it takes a moment but jj basically collapses on him and it’s part relief and part ‘what do you mean it can’t be that easy’ but maybe there’s still hope. maybe there’s one thing that he hasn’t ruined.

and then. they reconnect. and it’s a long damn road to recovery and jj definitely needs some Therapy (again with me making him so connected to his bending like why did i do that his self hate is real) but piandao is absolutely committed to not pushing him past what he’s ready for and even though he really is still in love with him, they are and always will be friends first and that’s what jj needs right now. jj’s self-aware enough to know that he is not ready for anything past that even though he’s also never really fallen out of love either, but it isn’t awkward between them. it’s just a knowledge that that’s my best friend, and he isn’t going anywhere, and when we’re ready to acknowledge this thing again then we’ll both be here. it’s about the mutual support, and that’s love babey it really is.

#TIME FOR ME TO SHUT UP #good god i wrote nearly 1k again aaaaah #pianjeong #ikkii #asks #my replies

46 notes · View notes

jimmigmalingan · 3 years

Text

Her Name Is Not “baby”, It’s JANET.

It’s not “Miss Jackson if you’re nasty” either, although just as iconic.

What better way to celebrate Women’s Month than to get to know a great embodiment of a strong and powerful woman. In fact, so strong and so powerful that my instinctive reaction when I first saw the invite to her journalism class was “Oh no.”

That was the G-Rated version of it actually. Nevertheless, same message.

I barely even knew who she was or what her teaching style was going to be like. Her G-suite display picture just exuded “Oh no” energy. I mean that as a compliment.

I went straight to my friend from elementary school who shifted to Communication a year earlier than I did. I said “Do you have any tea on her?” The first thing he told me was that she had very high standards.

I like that, actually.

Back when I was in high school, which seems like very long time despite only having been a whopping three years, those were the types of teachers that I would consider my favorite ones. Ma’am Rachel from my English class, and Ma’am Elma from my Research and Biology class. Both of which actually went on to be school heads in different schools after we graduated.

I’m just here thinking to myself “God, I would’ve been excelling at her class if it isn’t for this stupid pandemic.” I clearly am not. We will get to that soon.

When we had the chance to organize an interview as a class, it invigorated me a tad bit. This is the closest I can get to having human interaction in an academic sense, but it was also my chance to have an idea or two of who ‘Janet Tibaldo’ was. Is she going to be the bane of my existence for the next four or so years or is she going to be alongside the people who I consider to be my “heroes”?

To my surprise, she’s very, well... human.

From what I’ve gathered in both of the interviews, our class’ and the other, she is a woman of strength. She is a passionate educator, a dedicated mother, and most of all, a woman of faith and devotion. In both of the interviews, she often emphasizes the importance of the “vertical relationship” in her life, and how it can have a positive effect in one’s horizontal relationships.

I do appreciate those remarks from her quite a bit, despite me having a rockier and more complex relationship with God as a queer person. I never considered myself an atheist. I do believe in God, and I believe that I am loved by God, despite knowing that people out there will try to convince me otherwise.

How could he possibly hate me when I pray to him too and he answers them just the same? It makes absolutely no sense to me.

When she said that you can fix your horizontal relationships once your vertical relationship is stable, it did strike a cord just as much as it struck a verve in me. I am trying to. It took me a while, but nevertheless I’m glad that I am here.

She often described herself as “strict”, both as a parent and an educator. It often surprises me how much bombardment my friend from elementary experiences from her subjects. The way he describes it to me sounds a bit like torture. I always took his words about her with a grain of salt. I will probably never believe him until I experience it first hand. He did say I was lucky that I shifted during online classes because she is a bit more lenient, otherwise I would’ve been dead meat.

If she was the monster that she’s painted out to be, I do understand why. It’s not like I don’t have a maternal figure or two in my life with eerily similar approaches. Like I said, she is a bit more human than what one would expect. She talked about her sleepless nights to dedicate herself onto her work, how she takes it upon herself when things go wrong, and how she said she hopes for a better and more empathetic world when I asked about her hopes for the future. To me she sounds like a person who stands her ground and knows exactly what she wants, even if it gets the best of her at times.

With that, she shared a peek of her younger days, how she spent her childhood during the Martial Law era, how newscasters on TV sparked her interest in the field of Communication, how in her college days they made do with the resources they had back then, emphasizing how lucky we are to have the technology we have now, how she was an activist back in the day. It painted a picture in my mind. Ahhh. No wonder.

There has always been ‘fire’ inside of her. A fire that lead her to be an educator today, despite having left the path of being a media practitioner.

I did think about it a couple of times. If being a visual artist doesn’t work out for me, maybe I’ll just teach. To me, it looks fun. She did say that she never thought in a million years that she would end up becoming a teacher because she thought it looked boring. According to her, lot of her family members ended up becoming teachers and she never wanted to be one of them. Maybe there’s some ugly parts of it that I don’t get to see, but it seems like a much more stable career path than visual arts, especially in a country like this.

Just from the interviews alone, you can tell that she has so much wisdom to offer in this field. That makes me all the more excited to meet her in person. If anything, there’s your proof right there that God is out there writing poetic justice for people. Maybe it was God’s way of saying “I have something better in mind for you, you just have to trust me.”

Another standout from the interviews was when she told all of us as a piece of advice that we should grab opportunities as they come. Oftentimes, the biggest regrets you have in life aren’t the things you did but the things you didn’t do. I have to admit, the main reason why this music video is taking too long to make is because of self doubt and insecurity. She’s right. I should toughen up a bit, shouldn’t I? Not only that, but there’s a lot of competitions that I found interesting in the facebook group that I just allowed to pass me by. I don’t want to blame my years in Architecture for it, because it did cause me some good. It’s just that I knew what I was running away from after years of feeling like I will never amount to anything.

I knew that. If anything I was way bolder when I left high school, only for Architecture to beat me down. It does take someone like her to remind me of who I was then.

When I was going through my depressive episode late last year, ultimately leading me to shift to Communication, I found myself seeking refuge in the music of Janet Jackson. As a matter of fact, I shared her music to the same friend I mentioned earlier, and now he’s a fan too. We’d often joke about which Janet we were talking about in the conversation.

On one hand, we have Janet the popstar, who despite being blacklisted by Bush’s racist and misogynistic America, kept on going. She kept performing and making music for as recent as 2018, and now she’s inducted in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. On the other, we have Janet the teacher, who keeps holding on to her faith despite all of the trials and challenges that came her way all these years.

What’s it about Janets being fiery passionate women anyway?

That actually leads me to my next point of interest.

What moved me the most about both of the interviews was her openness about her struggles with mental health, and how she refers students to seek help as well back when classes were physical. I don’t think conversations like these were possible back in the day, especially when I was a child. Apparently I didn’t have ADHD I was just an idiot, and people like me get punished for their idiocy. That was my upbringing, and it’s so refreshing to know that kids nowadays are lucky to have a ‘zeitgeist’ like this.

I was brought up for the longest time in the idea that if you show any signs of vulnerability, you are weak. It took some time for me to ‘rewire’ my brain and undo all of that...

because that is blatantly false.

If anything, for me, it further solidified how strong she was. It takes so much strength to admit that you’re human. It takes so much courage to tell yourself that you probably need help because you struggle in this aspect of your life. It is so easy to pretend that you can take everything like a champ and you don’t need anyone to help you.

The easy route was to say “I’m fine” or “I’m doing good” when asked a simple question “How are you?”, the hard route is to ask yourself that same question “How am I?” and be honest and introspective about it.

She did just that. She took the hard route.

She said she was having trouble sleeping and that she had to consult a mental heath expert for that recently, and that this pandemic made it particularly hard for her to juggle work and home matters.

I don’t think she will ever understand how a simple statement like that inspires someone like me, because what I got from that was ‘if somebody as strong and as passionate as her bleeds the same way that I do, I too can be strong like her.’

I just booked my appointment to my therapist yesterday. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. It’s nice to know that I’m not alone in this, despite going there for feeling alone. Ironic, isn’t it? I feel like I’m running out of friends, and it’s starting to feel like paralysis, really.

After the interview ended, and I finished watching the interview from the other block, I couldn’t grasp the idea of this woman being taken as a monster, because the only words I could think of in association to her thus far is ‘uplifting’ and ‘inspiring’, in the same way that Ma’am Rachel was one of the people who inspired me to be a a cartoonist and Ma’am Elma inspired me to be a competitive dancer.

I had to give up three years worth of friendships to start back from scratch and to be here. I was actually so unsure if it was even worth the sacrifice, but Ma’am Janet Tibaldo, out of all people, showed me something to look forward to in this field. Based on what I’ve gathered from her, I’m up for a good time.

2 notes · View notes

esbarnes · 4 years

Text

Distance

Part 4.

I didn’t know that Hope could be painful. That it could make you hard with determination and then completely vulnerable when it came to saving someone you love from harm. Sometimes Hope can completely remake you as a person. I’m just not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

Eilene’s pov

After we had had a few drinks at the bar, Alyssa and I went back to the Den. She told me everything and I mean everything. I then filled her in on what I had been doing out of town and the weird incident I had the day I came back. Then we discussed her plans to convince the Grand Magus to induct the Knights into the Order and how the memory powder seemed to be losing it’s sway on the werewolves. This caught my attention and I said “I read in one of the books I brought back, that werewolves react differently to most magic than humans do. So that must be why they are building a tolerance to it and why we were created to fight bad magic. It’s easier to fight something that doesn't effect you.” Alyssa chimed in “that must be why when I used magic with them to find Randall, they didn’t wolf out or hear ringing. I was using magic to help them.”

“So what is the plan then? How do we get their memories back and stop whatever evil plan your so called Grand Magus has?” Alyssa paused and then said, “I don’t think Vera Stone has an evil plan, she wants to protect the Order. But there must be something more to their memory loss, usually when we need to alter people’s memories we also use what is called a “Respondio” incantation to make sure things in the real world match what we want those people to believe. Only the last time we preformed that incantation there were extra ingredients. At the time I didn’t think anything about it. But now that I have met you, it makes me think that someone else within the Oder knows about you too and doesn't want you in the way.” At this my head was spinning. I could feel Red getting restless under my skin, she didn’t like the situation and wanted to do something, but we still needed more information. I think Alyssa could sense how uncomfortable I was and continued “I plan to give them there memories back, but without knowing what was in the “Respondio” I don’t know if they will remember you correctly. If they do, we have nothing to worry about. But if they don’t or if their memories of you still seem altered in some way, then we know something is off and someone has tampered with the incantation.”

I turned this over in my mind for a moment. What if they didn’t remember me? What if something much worse was at the root of all of this. Either way I had to find out and if I could do that and keep the others safe, it’s didn’t matter if they remembered me or not. “Alright, let’s do it, I’m tired of being in the dark and I want my friends back.” I told her.

Alyssa and I worked out some more details of the plan and as she was getting her coat to leave she turned to me and said “I know what it’s like to have feelings for someone from afar. There isn’t really a get well soon card for it, but if you ever want to talk to someone, you can always give me a call.” “Thanks” was all I could manage. With that she nodded and left. It would still be a few days before she would bring their memories back so at least I could test out the bonds more. That was the only comforting thing I had at this moment.

After raiding Hamish’s bar, I decided head up stairs to check on the rest of the Knights and hopefully to pass out. There was a small piece of me that hoped If I fell asleep soon, I would wake up tomorrow and find this whole ordeal was a joke of a nightmare. I checked in with Lilith and Randal satisfied that they were both sleeping - that’s right it’s just past midnight - I remembered. Alyssa and I had talked about Jack Morton as well, I figured if I concentrated and focused on Silverback, that I might be able to reach him to. When I did so, I found that the bond was there but it was small and I couldn’t get anything from it. - it must be because we haven’t really met yet. - I thought.

Of course, I saved the best for last. Hamish. Surely he was either sleeping or up grading papers. Before checking on our bond, I got into my pj’s and got into our bed on the left side where I always sleep. It still smelled like him although it was faded since he hadn’t been here in a while. I yawned and then focused on Hamish, but I must have fallen asleep before I could get anything from the bond.

Hamish’s pov

Hamish was sleeping on his back when he felt his chest get warm and his heart start to beat faster. It wasn’t unpleasant but he turned and shifted so that he was on the right side of the bed, with his face in the pillow and his chest now on the cool sheets. Then he dreamed of the girl he saw outside his college a few days ago. With one hand on her cheek and the other around her waist, he was kissing her. The kind of kiss that is deep and filled with need. A need to be so connected with the other person that you lose yourself in the process. Her hands rose up to his chest to grip his shirt and pull him closer to her and continued kissing him. It felt so real and so right. Almost like he was missing her, needed her and he had no Idea why. He didn’t even know her name, did he? As he and the nameless girl kept kissing he felt something inside him shift. It felt like something inside him was shaking itself awake because of her, but he didn’t know what.

A few hours later as the sun is coming up...........

I could feel a breeze on my face and the sun warming me as I slowly opened my eyes. I saw nothing but trees - how did I get outside - I thought. Then I realized that not only was I outside, but I was outside naked! Hesitantly I got up off the forest floor looking around for clothes and to figure out where I was. I knew I had gone to sleep in my bed and I could not recall leaving my apartment. I was still looking for something to wear when I turned around and saw this old house that looked a little run down. A car was parked outside and someone was carrying boxes from the car to the house. I edged a little closer to the bit of trees I had fallen asleep in to get a closer look and when the person came back out of the house I recognized her immediately - The girl from my dream - just then I heard someone from behind me clear their throat and as I turned toward them they said “Hamish, your not supposed to be here, not yet anyways.” and then they blew something in my face.

Alyssa Drake had come back to the Den to go through the other books Eilene had found when she saw a very naked Hamish Duke staring at the house and Eilene from some trees around the property. He must have turned and then made his way here to her, she thought. She couldn’t have him ruin the plan by getting his memories back before everyone else, so she hit him with some memory dust and then called an acolyte from the Order to come and take him back to his apartment. She could only give them back their memories if they were all together so she had to make him forget. Hamish seemed to be drawn to Eilene which was really adorable but might mess things up if she didn’t do the incantation exactly right.

Part. 5 coming soon.

#hamish duke #randall carpio #lilith bathory #the order

22 notes · View notes

jungwooisms · 4 years

Text

pairing: nakamoto yuta x female!reader genre: fluff, minor angst warnings: tragic coffee incident (jk), alcohol use, minor swearing word count: 7.6k summary: all it takes is a shinkansen, a cup of coffee and a soccer player to turn everything on its head and make you appreciate life just a little bit more.

i. The pace you set is rhythmic, unwavering and with intent. A thin layer of perspiration coating your brow, your breathing becoming heavier as you race through the crowds of Shinagawa Station. Chatter and shouts of children and adults both foreign and familiar filling your ears as you scan the area, adding to your sense of anxiety. It shouldn’t be this hard to find him, should it? You’d gotten caught up at the elevator, a wedding was taking place in one of the hotel’s ballrooms and you couldn’t be the asshole to butt into their affair. Maybe you should’ve taken the stairs, but there was no way in hell that descending twenty-seven flights was in any way faster than waiting for a handful of people in the elevator. You race past the sickeningly sweet smells emanating from a Mr. Donut, past kiosks selling neck rolls and other travel accouterments, you were beginning to perspire even more underneath your thick winter coat. Only seconds later you catch him standing by one of the large pillars supporting the ceiling of the station, he towers over most of the people there and you shake your head at how blind you’d been. “I’m sorry I’m-” Feet coming to a stop on the slick beige tiles, adjusting the strap of your bag as you accommodate yourself to the abrupt halt.

A shake of his head as he locks eyes with you, “Late, I know.” Impatient voice as an impatient eye looks down to a wristwatch as an impatient foot taps the tiles underfoot. “Did you at least call a cab?” Voice edging a testy meter you sigh. Since when had being cross become a habit of his?

“I thought we could walk?” You question with a smile as your eyes glance towards one of the many signs denoting the different train line platforms. “We haven’t seen each other in a month, I missed you.”

His puzzled reaction subtle as an eyebrow raises, “Missed me? We called yesterday.” Hands fiddling with the camera in his grasp he sighs, unzipping his own camera bag and slipping the device inside. Not that you’d really say that the half-assed call was anything of note, it was brief and he hadn’t even said that he loved you. Not that you really wanted him to anyway. The suitcase beside him smaller than you thought it would be, “It’s freezing outside, you really want us to walk?” A chime overhead and an announcement made through the clangor of the station, you wait for it to conclude even if neither of you had to worry about another train’s departure or arrival.

“There’s some snow on the ground, I know you like your wintery cityscapes, John.” An offering of another smile as his hand runs through his light brown locks. You can tell he’s just come from the airport as the bags under his eyes were more prevalent than usual, clothes wrinkled and worn, you feel a little guilty for your suggestion.

“You know what I mean, I’m just tired.” A rubbing of his temples, “Do you want to grab something before we head back? I’m starving.”

“Sure,” you nod and the pair of you are silently off, stopping at a 7-11 outside of the west entrance of the station. It’s cramped but you only had to make your way to the small refrigerated section housing the multitude of onigri and then to the checkout counter. Johnny and you check out together, you offering to pay as he’d been the one travelling, you don’t even get a thanks. You eat at the long counter by the front windows in muted sighs, sharply contrasting the din surrounding you, prompts to start a conversation falling short and ending as soon as they’d been inducted.

The breath from your lungs intermingles with the air in short puffs of white plumes as you exit the conbini. As a child you thought there was something magical about it, just like how the small, orange flames that popped out of logs in a fireplace were something otherworldly. Your nose may be chapped and running but it’s a small price to pay for enjoying the things that reminded you of simpler times. “How was your shoot in Chicago?” You ask as you and Johnny now wait at one of the crosswalks before the hotel, thankfully Shinagawa had more than a handful of places to stay relatively close to the station.

Sky gray overhead, clouds collecting and pooling as if they’re set to release another winter onslaught at any moment. “Fine,” Short, brusque, you’d noticed his responses getting more and more so ever since he’d left in the first place. You don’t even move to take his hand in yours, knowing the gesture would be discarded almost as immediately after you’d initiate it. The light changes, the beeps from the crosswalk signal beginning to resound around the small street. Long, purposeful strides leaving you many paces behind your partner.

The hotel room is small, a small bed, a small bathroom and a small window to look out of. But this is Tokyo, it didn’t call for the most luxurious of amenities if you weren’t paying premium. The pair of you weren’t even meant to spend the entire weekend here, your tickets booked to take the bullet train back to Osaka the next morning sitting on your nightstand. You’d just have to make do until then, and even at that it’s not like Tokyo is a boring city to be in for a night. Phone buzzing atop the dresser you see Johnny pick it up, frown at a message he received and tuck it away into his back pocket. He stands over his suitcase, brow furrowing as he’s lost in his own little world.

“Are you happy?” You hate confrontation but hate the tension that you’d felt since the train station even more.

“With what?” He’s shuffling around his suitcase, looking for something stowed away in its depths. The air is palpable as the only thing making noise is the rustling of the suitcase’s contents. Eyes glancing to your own luggage, still packed and waiting for someone to take out its insides. You didn’t want to though, that meant a permanence you didn’t want to adhere to any longer.

“This,” You motion around the room, then to him and back to you, “Us?” Car horn blaring outside, pulling you from the tangible stress in the room beginning to bloom from your words. It’s short and angry, yet somewhat grounding.

“Can we not do this now?” A sigh as he enters the bathroom, toiletry bag in hand. You hear him set it down, unzipping it as he begins to take out and place some of its contents on the countertop.

“I think we have to.” As you sit on the bed you run your hand over the coarse fabric of the duvet, sad smile twinging at the corners of your mouth as you look out of the small window overlooking the street. “I’ve known you for long enough to know when you’re not happy.”

Silence as he moves from the bathroom, back into the bedroom to look at you. Brow quizzical as he shifts on his feet, crossing his arms. “What do you want to do about it?” Johnny always got defensive whenever he felt wronged or trapped. It’s not what you wanted to do, but the two of you had been dancing around the idea of separation for far longer than you cared to admit; being in this relationship is a convenience rather than a want anymore.

“I could say what I want,” Sigh leaving you, “But I know you’ve already got an idea.” Maybe you should feel sad, remorse, yet you can’t, there’s only the sensation of relief as you watch his demeanor change from cynical to empathetic. You’re not sure when you fell out of love with Johnny Suh. It hadn’t been quick; it had been a gradual realization as he too had probably gone through the motions of separation on his own terms. In a way you felt grateful to him for that, so that it wasn’t a battle fought alone.

ii. It’s as the train barrels into a tunnel, the thought occurs to you that your boyfriend of three years isn’t your boyfriend of three years any longer. A strange time for it to happen, even if the breakup had only taken place several hours earlier. Bags packed, an awkward well-wishings and a train ticket bought found you where you are now. Bags stowed away overhead, jacket slung over your lap and the plush seat of the shinkansen under you.

Legs crossed you look through the almost frosted glass of the train as the tunnel ends and the snow-laden landscape whirs by at a speed too fast you can’t make out a tree from a shrub. The coffee you’d ordered at the beginning of the venture lies on the small gate leg in front of you, the wisps of steam no longer rising from the styrofoam. A cough and your attention is diverted to the man next to you, it’s a quick glance, you don’t want him to notice you’re looking at him. As you return your gaze back to the wintery scenery outside you feel the train below begin to lurch ever so slightly, it’s another stop. You reach out, hand cupping the coffee and bringing it to your lips, another jostle from the train and you almost drop the cup into your lap. A sigh of relief as you don’t and set the cup down again, the lukewarm contents leaving you unsatisfied with your choice of drink.

Your eyes close momentarily as the intercom overhead announces the next stop, Nagoya. It’s an involuntary shudder, but you remember the time you’d spent there earlier in your career. While fun at times, it wasn’t the best place for the young adult mentality to flourish.

“Excuse me,” a voice jostling you from your thoughts as a light tap is placed on your shoulder. It’s the man next to you, “I think you may have-” he glances down to your blouse and you almost feel scandalized until you realize that you have, in fact, spilled coffee down the front of your shirt.

Shit. “Pardon me,” you say as you stand, careful not to step on the stranger’s feet as you shuffle by. Hand raising to your shirt you pull it away from your body to check the damage, a sigh escaping you as it’s not awful but certainly not great. The bathroom’s unoccupied, thankfully. Lights switching on as you enter, you’re able to see the full extent that you’ve maimed your shirt. You grab a few paper towels and begin to dab at the spots, but it’s fruitless as they are already beginning to dry. You’ll wait until Osaka to sort it out, it’s not like there was a conbini on the train to attend to you.

Returning to your spot you give your seat mate a small thanks as you settle down into the plush accommodations, returning your gaze to the outside world as the train pulls into the station. A few people around you begin to move, collecting their things and orderly shuffling towards the exit. Tokaido’s line only had four stops until you reached Osaka, your seat mate had joined you at the beginning of the line in Tokyo. Maybe he was headed to Osaka too, definitely not Nagoya, no one ever voluntarily went there. Maybe you were trying to keep your mind off of whatever you’d left behind in Shinagawa. Maybe you were looking for an excuse to worry about anyone other than yourself by inwardly delving into the private lives of others around you instead of coming to terms with your own inability to confront yourself.

“Did you want to borrow this?” Another tap on your shoulder and you turn to see the man offering what looked like a stain removal stick. “I wanted to give it to you earlier but you seemed like you were in a rush.”

“Oh,” you stare at his offering for a moment longer than you should, “thank you.” Taking the stick you begin to untwist its cap, only then to pull your shirt away from your bosom and begin to lightly dab at the brown spots adorning the cloth. You had only said a total of five words to the man, but you feel entirely indebted to him.

“My name’s Yuta by the way,” he states as you hand him back the now lidded stick, the train begins to slowly start back up again, the rumbling underfoot becoming more prominent. You introduce yourself, once again thanking him for his help. “Where are you headed?”

“Osaka,” You note, “Well, Kyoto actually but I’m transferring in Osaka.”

“Kyoto, huh?” A nod of his head as he mulls it over, “Do you live there?”

“For now,” Nodding your own head as your shoulders shrug. “I’m a freelance photographer and kind of go wherever the wind takes me.” You could list a handful of cities you’d resided in over the course of your lifetime, but you don’t think you’d liked any as much as the one you lived in now. It would be a painful day when your work takes you elsewhere. “What about you?”

“I’m heading straight to Osaka,” he nods, slipping the stain stick into the bag under his feet. “I had a game in Tokyo this weekend and the team’s straggling on getting back home.”

“Game?” You question, “Are you a baseball player?”

A shake of his head as he laughs, “Soccer, I haven’t held a bat since middle school.” He motions to his bag as he sits up, the logo of some league on the front of it. “Would I have seen your pictures anywhere?”

Humming to yourself, “I’ve done a shoot or two for Vogue Japan, but I’ve primarily done work for international publications.”

Yuta’s eyes widen, leaning in as he’s drawn into the conversation. You’re not sure if he’s just searching for discussion or if he’s genuinely interested, “That’s really awesome, any celebrities that stood out?”

You think to yourself again, it’s not like you were on first name terms with any of the famous people you’d met, but some were far more down to earth than others. “Ayase Haruka was nice,” Head nodding as you trace your fingers atop the arm of your seat.

“Ah!” A small sound of excitement as he recognizes the name, “I loved her in Jin.” It looks as if he’s making a note to watch the drama again in his head, “What were you doing in Tokyo?”

“I was there to meet my boyfriend,” Stomach dropping as the train begins to lurch again, another stop? Clearing your throat with a small cough, “He was coming back from a business trip.”

“Oh, is he here too? I can switch seats if you want to sit next to him?” Yuta turns his back to you, looking at the faces of the other passengers as if he’d be able to spot this supposed person out in a crowd. “Is he also a photographer?”

“He is, but he’s not here,” You break your eyes away from Yuta as he turns back to you, embarrassed by your own relationship, or lack thereof. “We actually broke up earlier today, so I guess I should say my ex-boyfriend.” It’s awkward, or maybe you were making it so because no stranger wants this sort of emotional baggage dumped atop them while traveling home. Eyes glancing out of the window, large flakes of snow now dotting the sky as the orange glow of the sunset resides behind a thick layer of clouds.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Attention fully brought back to you, he places his hands in his lap. “If you need to talk about it, I can always lend an ear, my friends tell me I’m like a human sounding board.”

iii. For all the time you’d spent in Japan, you never realized that 1) alcohol was accessible almost everywhere and 2) drinking in public wasn’t unnecessarily frowned upon. Or you had realized that but just never took advantage of it. You don’t know how you began to talk to Yuta, pretty much a complete stranger, about your problems in life; a loveless relationship, stress at work and so on and so forth. But he’s talkative and a great listener, something you had yearned for in someone since the day you decided that Johnny and you were no longer compatible. So here you sit, on some bench in Shin-Osaka Station with a Strong Zero in hand as you talk to this objectively handsome and caring man about your woes. Bags at your feet you lean against the back of the bench, looking up at the sign telling you that your train to Kyoto Station would arrive in another ten minutes.

“Don’t you have issues in trying to figure out your personal life too?” Feeling like you had talked all too much about yourself without letting Yuta add a word in, you glance to him as he takes a drink out of his own can of Sapporo.

“If we had enough time outside of practice, I might have one of those,” He laughs, steadying the can atop his knee with his hand, condensation dripping down the sides of it and burrowing into the fabric of his jeans. “We practice most of the time, when we’re not practicing it’s because we’ve got a game and on the off chance we do actually have some free time we spend it sleeping.”

“That doesn’t really sound-” Before you’re able to complete your sentence the sound of four different pitched chimes blares from the overhead speakers. You turn your head away from Yuta, looking up to the box hanging from a nearby wall.

“Attention, passengers for the JR Shinkansen from Shin-Osaka Station to Kyoto Station: operation of the Shinkansen from Shin-Osaka Station to Kyoto Station departing at 8:50 has been suspended due to inclement weather. We apologize for any inconvenience to passengers using this service.”

Mouth agape you continue to stare at the speaker, trying to comprehend the words you were hearing. “Fuck,” it’s quiet enough you hope that your new acquaintance can’t hear you.

Although he does, you know he does by the way you can see the corner of his mouth turn upwards and he lets out a quiet huff of air. “I take it that’s your train?” Your eyes now watching the green name of your train blink into a red text reading ‘cancelled’ on the prompter nearby.

“Unfortunately,” The buzz from the alcohol only now hitting you after you’d downed the whole can. A sigh as you stand, crushing the can in your grip before looking for a recycling receptacle nearby. Feet dragging along the pale tiles of the floor before returning to the bench, you don’t sit again, only begin to gather your things while trying to think of where you can stay for the night.

“Where are you going?” Yuta’s voice catches you by surprise as you notice he’d been watching you scramble to collect your bags.

“Probably to one of the hotels around here,” You sigh, “I’ve spent too many nights sleeping in train stations before.” You’d come far from your broke-out of college days, maybe you weren’t rolling in wealth, but you could make do.

“I’m not trying to sound weird or anything,” He moves to stand, stretching his free arm as he does so, “but you can stay at my place for the night. It’s nothing much but I won’t charge you at least.”

A smile as you shake your head, “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got to be back home for a shoot around midday, I’ll have to take the earliest train out of here tomorrow.” You sling your camera bag around your shoulder, reaching for the handle of your suitcase, “Thanks for keeping me company.” It’s a small way to show your gratitude when you feel as if you’d just talked his ear off for the past couple of hours.

Not wanting to pry he nods his head, “Thanks for keeping me company too, if I’m ever in the need for a photographer, I’ll have to look for you.”

A small laugh, “Yeah, I’d love for you to.” And with that you part ways turning on your heels as he makes his way towards the exit and you make your way further inside the station to inquire about ticket times for tomorrow. It’s only after you’d bought another ticket, wandered the streets for a hotel and settled into your lonely room that you realize you hadn’t even exchanged information with Yuta.

iv. Vivi Magazine had wanted to publish an op-ed about Kyoto Sanga, a soccer team you’d only heard about in passing and Otomonai Mina, an up and coming fashion designer. You’d done a shoot for the company about half a year ago and they had liked your work, if anything you were thankful for the opportunity. You couldn’t remember the designer’s brand name off the top of your head, but she had wanted a retro-fusion shoot to go along with her post-historical-historical theme at Nijo Castle. That’s what brought you to the grove of cherry trees nestled away in the back of the historical site. Viewfinder brought to your eye as you direct one of the players, “Try standing a little more open, your stance is too closed.” Snapping, clicking of the camera as he shifts, you’d wanted almost candid style photos of them, seeing how the blurriness of the movements looked against the static background.

“I think he needs to be a little more dramatic,” You hear the voice of the designer over your shoulder, “Are we allowed to have him climb on the trees?”

Eyes widening ever so slightly as you turn and pull the camera away from your face, “I don’t think so, but it would add to something, wouldn’t it?” Humming to yourself, almost as if it might be worth it to get into trouble with the ground’s security team.

“That’s what I’m saying!” Mina sighs, gravel crunching underfoot as she walks over to the soccer player, adjusting one of the various belts he had adorned around his waist. You wonder how he’s able to breathe, thankfully it was one of the cooler days of July. “Let’s take fifteen and move inside, alright?” Turning to you she nods her head and motions towards one of the tents that had been set up for the shoot. “Would you mind telling Sicheng he’s up next? His manager told me he’s a little camera shy.”

“Sure thing,” you nod, letting the camera fall from your hands and let it hang around your neck as you turn on your heels. A blast of air hitting you as you enter, the oscillating fan in the small area pointing directly at you. “Sicheng?” Eyes blinking after the air had dried them out significantly, once the tears had begun to form and lubricated them enough so that you could see clearly again you look to the names clipped onto the different player’s stations.

“Over here,” a voice calls out and you see a man waving his hand at you. He was getting his hair curled by one of the stylists, it was certainly a strange look but you weren’t there to judge.

“Hey,” You smile and walk over, “Mina says she wants you up next, we’re going to start shooting in ten minutes or so in Honmaru.”

“Alright,” there’s a sense of nervousness emanating from him, you can see it in the way he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. You’d met a handful of people like him before, not everyone was made to be in front of the camera, or at least they didn’t have the patience for it.

“See you then,” You begin to turn towards the exit, only coming to a stop soon after because there was someone standing almost directly behind you. “Oh- sorry-” you start, only to get cut off soon after.

“Were you able to save your shirt?” A cloud of haze momentarily obscuring your memory, eyes widening as soon as you realize who’d spoken to you. Yuta’s smiling down at you, hair tied back into a small ponytail and you can’t help but gape a little bit.

A shake of your head as you try to get rid of the look of incredulity coating your features. “Despite my best attempts it couldn’t be salvaged,” You smile, wondering how he still remembered that. Then again, that wasn’t the pressing question at hand. “What are you doing here?”

“My friend’s a member of Sanga, he invited me to spend the weekend up here but I didn’t want to stay at his apartment all day so I decided to tag along,” Yuta looks behind you and waves to Sicheng, who’d begun to get up from his chair. “I hope I’m not intruding?”

“Not at all,” A soft smile and check of a clock sitting atop one of the nearby tables in the tent. “I’ve got to go and take a few pictures of your friend; did you want to join?”

“Okay,” He nods his head and motions for Sicheng to join you. The three of you make your way through the grounds and into the inner castle, dark beams of wood decorating the interior as the sun shines in through the paneled walls. As you walk inside, after slipping off your shoes, Mina calls over Sicheng to give him a briefing on the concept she wanted to embody with his shoot.

With every step, the boards that made up the floor creaked in a pitch that almost made the inside of your ears ring with the tinny ministrations. Even treading lightly across the surface was cause enough for the chirping cadence to echo throughout the empty halls. “Do you know why they do that?” Yuta questions as you fidget with the camera around your neck, looking over to Sicheng getting into position.

A shake of your head as you stop, the shift of your weight from heel to heel creating more screams from the floor. “They’re called the nightingale floors, legend has it they’re meant to make noise so the nobility would know if an assassin was sneaking up on them.” He takes a few tip-toed steps across the hall, as if to show how loud even the lightest of movements could be. “But most historians agree that it was just improper design.” A shrug of his shoulders as he dances around the floorboards some more, eliciting the music of the nails burrowing into centuries old wooden planks.

“I never would’ve guessed that,” Musing as you move around the space, attention breaking from Yuta when Mina calls you over, saying that she was ready to start the shoot. “This shouldn’t take too long,” You say to Yuta and hurry over to Mina and Sicheng.

And it doesn’t. Sicheng is surprisingly well versed enough with following the directions that Mina had laid out for him, you just snapping away, trying out a few new tricks you’d learned just to see how they’d turn out. When the shoot ends, and you’ve begun packing up your equipment, you hear Yuta talking to his friend before calling out to you. “Hey,” a smile as bright as the sun, you don’t think you’d ever seen someone that beaming before. “Sicheng and I were about to go out and grab some dinner, did you want to join us?”

Zipping your camera bag closed you move to stand from your kneeling position on the gravelly ground. “Sure, I know a quaint little place nearby if you don’t know where you’re going yet.”

“That’d be great,” He says as he looks to the bag in your hands, “Did you need any help cleaning up?” Before you can protest, he’s already walking over, slinging a few of your equipment bags over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” You smile, “I parked out front, shouldn’t be too much of a hassle.”

“It’s no problem, I did crash your shoot, after all.” Bags stowed away in the car, or more like crammed into the trunk so you’d have room in the small vehicle for passengers, you let Yuta and Sicheng hitch a ride to a parking lot near your apartment. The traffic is heavy as you drive down the main drags of Kyoto, the Gion Matsuri festival preparations underway and the electric buzz lingering in the air for the anticipated event.

You leave the equipment in the car as the three of you exit the vehicle, the swift chirp of the car locking as you close the driver’s side door. “It’s not too far of a walk from here,” Looking down the street, making sure no oncoming traffic was barreling through the narrow alley before crossing, hearing the hurried steps of your guests trailing behind you. It’s tucked away in the back alleys off Shijo-dori, a small interior that still had the remnants of cigarette smoke stuck into its walls, even if the practice had been prohibited inside years ago.

As soon as the doors open a blast of air hits the three of you, “Curry udon?” Yuta reads from the sign as you enter, waving hello to the staff behind the main counter and taking a seat in one of the only available booths.

“I hope that’s okay?” You ask as you settle into the booth, Yuta and Sicheng sliding in across from you.

“Perfectly fine, Sicheng here’s probably never had it,” Yuta nods, nudging his seatmate with his elbow as the other was struggling his way through a menu. “He typically only goes to Chinese places, and if he can’t do that, he’ll just eat conbini food.”

A small laugh as you look over to the now embarrassed soccer player shoving his nose into the menu, “I’m still not used to it.” Mumble falling from his lips as he lowers the menu.

“How long have you played for Sanga?” Questioning as one of the servers drops off several glasses and a pitcher of water for the table.

Yuta reaches over to set the upturned glasses upright and proceeds to fill them up about three fourths of the way, setting them down in front of the three of you as Sicheng ponders over his answer, “Five months?” Condensation already forming on the glass, you watch a few beads of water slide down the sides and pool around that base. “I played for an international league for a bit but it got a little crazy.”

“That’s where we met,” Yuta nods, taking a drink, “More like I had to pull him out of his shell because he refused to talk to other people.”

“You were all over me, I did talk to other-” before he’s able to finish the sentence, his eyebrows raise, hand reaching down into his pocket he procures a phone from its depths. “Ah, it’s my manager,” eyes scanning the now brightly lit screen, he excuses himself, sliding from the booth and hurrying outside.

“His manager’s a little bit of a hardass,” Yuta notes, watching the door close behind Sicheng before returning his attention to you. “So, how have you been?”

“I’ve been good,” a nod, as you take a drink from your glass. While you hadn’t spoken face to face in the months since you had last met, you had chatted with him via text on and off for a while. You did do a little bit of internet stalking to find out who he was after you’d realized the two of you hadn’t exchanged information the first time you’d met. It wasn’t too difficult to find him, really, how many people named Yuta could play on one of Osaka’s soccer teams? It was a handful, but pictures existed of the rosters and it wasn’t too hard to narrow it down. Eventually you found the willpower within yourself to follow him on Instagram, him only following you back a few days later and chatting via messenger every now and again. “How about you? Still no personal life?”

“Still no personal life,” He laughs, settling back into the booth, “Actually maybe a bit more now that festival season is coming up.”

“Oh right,” A nod of your head as you hadn’t noted the time of year and the correlation with your city’s festivities, “the Matsuri’s coming up, isn’t it?” Rhetorical question brushed aside, you continue, “Are you going to go?”

“I’m going to try and go on the last weekend,” fingers tapping atop the menu under his hand, “I assume you’re going too?”

Ruminating the thought as you set your elbows on the tabletop, the weariness from the day catching up to you, eyes watering as you stifle a yawn behind your lips, “I think so. I haven’t got any shoots planned because everyone in Kansai’ll be there.”

“Maybe we can meet up and explore a little bit?” There’s a brightness leering behind his eyes that would make you flustered if the tinkling of bells signaling Sicheng’s return hadn’t pulled you from the thought of spending more time with Yuta.

“Yeah,” You smile to him as Sicheng slides back into the booth, “I can do that.”

v. “Osaka styled okonomiyaki is far more superior than Hiroshima’s and I will not be swayed any other way,” wooden chopsticks splintering apart in his hands as he breaks them in two, offering them out to you. You take them with a small, thankful nod and move to tear into the street food in your free hand, the warmth from the snack heating your hand through the thin plastic that housed it.

“Can’t say I’ve had Hiroshima’s, so I’ll just take your word on it,” the clang of distant bells ringing out through the air over the growing vocalizations of excitement from the crowds packing the street of Shijo-dori. Food and drink stalls lining the roadway as you find your own voice being drowned out in all the clamor surrounding you, “Is today when the Maiko are paraded through?” Mouth full of food you cover it with your hand as you speak.

“I think that was last week?” Brow furrowing as he fiddles with his own pair of chopsticks, “I’m not too sure.” After he takes his own piece of the pancake, he turns to look at you, “Aren’t you supposed to be my tour guide Ms. Gion Girl?”

“I just said I just live here, it doesn’t mean I’ve been to every single event,” You note, feeling a pulling buzz from your phone you’d tucked into your obi around your waist. “Unfortunately, I’m out every other weekend with shoots.” Like so many others around you, you had donned a yukata in the spirit of the festival, also to use the garment as you had rarely ever worn it since coming to the city. Yuta had decided on wearing a much simpler jinbei as he strolled around, while less fashionable it was marginally more practical than the garment you wear.

“Could say the same about me,” He thinks for a moment, “If photo shoots were games. Do you want to try and get through here and catch the parade? It should be ending soon.” Hand motioning towards the direction of the larger mass of people lining another street in hopes to view the floats.

“Sure,” A nod of your head and you’re off. You stick close to Yuta as you weave through the throng of people shuffling around with their own food and drink in hand, it’s a colorful wave, the bright color of the yukatas around you seeming to shine even brighter under the summer sun. The two of you eventually come to a halt at a metal fence blocking off access to the street in front of you, the procession parading down the avenue a sight to behold as almost forty men pull a large wooden float. It’s draped in various silk adornments and an idol like figure sitting under an awning has you looking somewhat perplexed. Somewhere further down the procession you can hear the steady, thrumming beats of a taiko group’s drumming. Another buzz from your obi and you turn to Yuta, “I’m going to go and throw this away,” head motioning downwards to the now empty plastic container in your hand, “I’ll be right back.”

“Alright,” he smiles as you begin to walk off, “I’ll be right here.”

It takes a moment for you to find one of the blue clad volunteers holding out a bag designated for trash roaming the streets. After discarding the trash, you pull out your phone and step away from the streams of people barreling down the road to check your notifications. A sigh as there’s two missed calls from someone you’d thought long gone. Your finger presses the name, ringtone beginning as soon as you to, you press the phone to your ear and wait for the other party to pick up.

“Is the key still under the mat?” Johnny’s voice questions almost as soon as the call connects. “I can’t find it anywhere.”

“No, I lost mine a few weeks ago and I’ve been using the spare in the meantime.” Frowning as you clack your geta atop the sidewalk. “I’m not going to be home until later, can’t you pick up your stuff tomorrow?”

“I’m flying out to Hokkaido tomorrow,” Disgruntled sigh from his end as you listen to the distant drums, “Are you at the festival?”

“Yeah,” It’s short, much like your interactions had been. You had broken up but you’re constantly reminded of him as the apartment you had once shared housed the remnants of his belongings that he’d yet to pack up and take away. Thankfully your busy schedules kept you on different clocks and you hadn’t really seen him over the course of the past few months as he cleared out his things between plans. “When do you come back?”

“Wednesday, can you do then?”

“I’ve got a shoot. Thursday?”

“Thursday’s good. I swear I’ll have everything out by then.” A promise you hope he’ll keep. It was more mentally wearing than anything to be reminded of him whenever you went home to try and relax. “I’ll text you when I’m on the way.”

A tug on the sleeve of your yukata as you don’t bother saying goodbye, the clanging bells and Buddhist chants of the passing parade, spinning of your geta and almost slipping on the smooth wood atop the stony sidewalk. “I thought I lost you,” a laugh from Yuta as you look up to him, strained expression obvious on your face. “Are you okay?” Cheery visage turned concerned; the smile drops from his lips as his brow furrows.

“Yeah,” Flicker of a smile as you slide your phone back into your obi, “I’m still dealing with some residual breakup stuff, sorry for leaving you like that.”

“Still?” Frown still apparent, “I do remember you saying something about him still living with you.”

“Not living, he’s finally going to finish packing his stuff up this week,” You brush a few strands of hair away from your forehead as you feel the bun you’d put up earlier was beginning to unfurl, “It’s just taken longer than I thought.”

“Sounds like it,” He muses and looks out to the parade continuing onwards behind the two of you. “Do you want to get out of here? I know a small little shrine a little way away that shouldn’t be too crowded now.”

Grateful for the topic change, “Sure.”

It takes a few minutes before you’re far enough away from the festivities that traffic had resumed to its normal stop and go state, it takes another few moments after that to hail a taxi and climb in as Yuta tells the driver the location of the shrine. It’s one you’ve never heard of, but then again there were so many small shrines and temples interwoven and sprinkled in within this city you couldn’t be but so surprised. “How is it that you know about all of these different places?”

Doors finally shut as the cab begins to move, Yuta buckles his seatbelt and turns to you, “My mom grew up here as a kid, when I was younger she would take me and my sisters around when we came to visit family.” A nod of his head as he looks to the front window as if remembering a drive like this he’d had as a child, “I don’t remember everything clearly but there were a few places that stood out.”

You ride in relative silence for the rest of the journey, Yuta occasionally tapping your shoulder and pointing something out as you passed whatever it was on the street. He had an excitability about him that just made you feel almost as giddy as he did, it was a lovely change of pace opposing the mundanity you’d had for the longest time. When the car stops and Yuta goes to pay the driver, you exit the vehicle and land your feet onto a gravel road adjacent to the main road that looked down a long stretch of trees. Forest thick on both sides you see a few people walking further down the path.

“I hope you don’t mind getting your feet wet, this shrine has a pretty different custom,” You hear Yuta say as the car drives off.

“What do you mean by that?” You question as the two of you begin walking forwards, the crunch of the gravel underfoot echoing around the relatively empty space.

It’s not long until you come upon the shrine, large red torii gate greeting you as Yuta veers you off from the main path to a temple standing in the central of the grounds and towards another small torii gate adjacent. Looking towards the area you see a small creek in which people were wading through, candles in hand as they make their way through the water. The two of you venture forth towards a small table right before a ramp that led down into the water. A small kiosk handed out bags so that you could tote your shoes around instead of having to hold them, you slide your geta off and drop them in, slinging the bag onto your shoulder as Yuta mirrors you with his own bag. A few steps later you’re handed a small candle, almost the size that you’d see atop a birthday cake, and are ushered towards a flame that everyone seemed to be using to ignite their own candles. “What exactly is this festival?” You ask Yuta as he dips his candle into the flame and waits patiently for you to do the same.

“It’s something about honoring the god of the river, I think it’s also supposed to guarantee you good health for the rest of the year too.” A shrug of his shoulders, “All I remember is wading through the river really.”

“It really is different, I’ll give you that,” you nod as the two of you walk slowly down the ramp, slowly traversing the wooden structure and into the cool water. It’s colder than you’d originally thought, but seeing as it’s coming from a mountain spring, you’re not sure why you thought it would be warmer. The sunlight glitters off the surface as you look out at the stretch you’re meant to navigate, while beautiful you can’t help but only try and focus on not slipping on the stony floor of the creek.

Reaching your hand out to grab his yukata to steady yourself, you’d reached for his sleeve but had miscalculated and grabbed his hand instead. “I’m sorr-”

“Are you okay?” He turned to make sure you were okay, the candle he was holding in his other hand almost extinguishing as he moved.

“I’m alright,” A nod as you glance to your hand which was still wrapped around his, “Would you mind if I-?” Trailing off with a weakened smile, “My balance is a little off.”

“Not at all,” He returns the smile and gentle squeezes your hand as you catch up to him. The two of you wade through the water some more, the ends of your yukata becoming dampened by the small river even after you’d hoisted up the skirt with your hand that still held the burning candle. Towards the end of the small river-walk there’s little wooden boxes in which you’re supposed to place the candle, the two of you walk and in hand to them only releasing your grip from one another to not burn yourselves while you offer up the candle to the god of the river. The pair of you stand there for a moment, looking at the flickering flames, you’re not sure what he’s thinking about but you can tell that he’s got something on his lips when he turns to speak to you.

“Do you want to go on a date sometime?” Question poised out of the blue, so much so you have to think about what you just heard to make sure he’d actually asked it. “I know that you’ve got a busy schedule and I do too and there probably isn’t a reasonable date we could get together, but I think I want to try.” Eyes widening at your response, “If you’re okay with that?”

“I’m more than okay with that.” You smile at him, a growing warmth in your chest starkly contrasting the cool of the water your calves were submerged in. “Do you think that we can plan this outside of the water though? I think my toes might be starting to freeze.”

A laugh as he takes his hand into yours, gently ushering you towards the exit and more of the shrine’s festivities, “Of course.”

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #nct 127 #nct #nct scenarios #nct yuta #yuta scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 fluff #posted now im gonna SLEEP

84 notes · View notes

nachohypno · 4 years

Text

Gettin’ the farmers! Ch. 5 - The Plan (Pt. 2)

Next morning, I woke up feeling great.

I now had a plan, and I was going to finish it to make my stay here as enjoyable as possible.

Shad was already under my control, and had a trigger attached to him.

Dan? He’s the one that troubles me.

He’s not going to let me hypnotize him without a really good excuse, so I had to think about it if I wanted to bring my step father under my control, too. I got up from the bed, as Thad walked in.

“Oh, hey bruh. Forgot to grab my shirt” He grabbed one from his closet, then came closer and gave a long, passionate kiss out of nowhere.

I tried to break it after I remembered where we were. “Wait, remember that Shad and your Pa can’t know about this”

He gave himself a little slap on the forehead, mumbling something like ‘Fuck, you’re right’

“Hey, don’t do that” I said.

“Yeah, sorry” He said, giving me a nice smile. “Anyway, Pa is already makin’ breakfast, c’mon bruh”

We went downstairs, as usual. This had already become my daily routine. Wake up, have breakfast with the family, then head to work.

And honestly? I loved it. Never thought that living and working in a farm would be so enjoyable! I was pretty much considering dropping out from my psychologist career and just… working here full time?

It was an option of course, but first I’d like to see if my college investigated the issue I had and let me back in. Just in case, I still had some hope in the matter.

And hey, I proved to be one hell of a hypnotist these last few days.

I sat down, Shad was next to me, and my other step brothers in front of me. A big plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of me, and a mug of coffee. (I liked the change! Bacooon!)

This was a good life, I must admit.

My stepbrothers seemed happy, too!

I mean, yeah. I hypnotized all of them, and turned two of the three into my secret lovers. But still, it was nice to see them happy.

As we all chatted and ate our scrambled eggs and bacon, I noticed Dan was smiling proudly at the four of us. Like… I don’t know, a happy father?

Shad also noticed this, ‘cause he asked him straight away (as always) “Penny for your thoughts, Pa?”

I haven’t heard that phrase in ages, but I was thankful for his curiosity. I wouldn’t have dared to ask, to be honest.

Dan wasn’t expecting the question, but he just said. “Hmm? Oh, it’s just that…” He trailed off for a second, before shrugging “I dunno. I’m happy to see ya guys gettin’ along so well. Don’t mind me, just an old man’s rambling” He said before laughing.

The other guys laughed as well and then we continued to eat our breakfast.

Later, everyone finished and work was about to start, we were discussing about what we were going to do today.

Moose had to continue his handyman duties, while Shad had the animals and Thad had the crops. Seems like the pair liked to rotate on their tasks from time to time.

Dan wanted to go check the water supply, and he wanted us to spend some bonding time together like I’ve been doing with my step brothers.

Needless to say, it was perfect for my plan, and I was also curious about my stepfather. I don’t know why, but my step brothers were great to spend the time with.

And I had a feeling that it would be the same thing with the big McPearson.

-----

I went outside with Dan.

To be honest, what he said at the breakfast made me really happy. I felt good, I guess.

I wondered where the water supply was. I knew there was a river near here, but I don’t think they can get the water from there.

I should ask Dan later.

Speaking of which, he grabbed his toolbox outside of the porch and we headed out pretty quickly.

I didn’t know what I could talk with him about. And I had to hypnotize him? Yeah, no kidding. This guy would probably be the hardest one of the bunch.

Thad and Shad agreed to it. Moose didn’t, but he was reprogrammed with subliminal messages in his songs. This one? Maybe I could try to convince him with some excuse, like I did with Thad.

Yeah, that could work. Just needed something to work with.

“Happy to see you’re doin’ good in here” Dan said. “I knew the boys would like ya”

“Really? They have been really nice, to be honest. Explaining how things worked and stuff like that-“

“I don’t mean the work, kiddo” He said, laughing “I mean in the family. Y’know, it was a sorta surprise when your mom asked me if you could stay here. I thought you wouldn’t like the idea, but accepted anyways. Gotta be honest with ya, the boys complained. They were a bit… angry since last time we saw ya”

I mumbled a ‘sorry’. I now feel a bit embarrassed when they mention that day, and I hope I can make up for it someday. Feeling a bit guilty now that I kind of enslaved the trio after a few days in here.

Dan continued speaking “But I’m happy they managed to keep their cool and welcome ya with open arms. And as I said before, seein’ you all chattin’ like good friends made me incredibly happy”

I smiled again. I wondered how far the water supply was. “I guess working together helped us bond and get along better? They are really great guys”

“Ha! Don’t be a damn fool” Shad explained to me what that was a few days ago, so I was not as confused as I was when Thad said it on my first night in here.

“They talked very fondly of you when we went to the town together, so let me tell ya that I’m proud of you”

He patted my back and we kept walking forward. Again, I felt good.

This has been a good week, besides the being expelled part, but this kind of made up for it? I really enjoyed being out here.

It was actually hotter than the other days. I brought a bottle just in case. Moose was really insistent with “not suffering a heatstroke”.

And the heat apparently was getting Dan, since he started to wipe his forehead with a napkin and curse at the weather.

“Is everything alright?” I asked him, after a while.

“Yeah, just the sun givin’ me headaches again” That’s my call. I could use that as an excuse, I just needed a chance.

“We could rest in the shadow for a while, heat strokes can be very dangerous” I said.

He sighed “Guess you’re right, let’s go to the trees over there and take a rest. The water supply isn’t really far from the house but it’s always good to have a quick rest” He said, patting my back before heading to a few trees.

Dan sat on the oak’s trunk and looked around. I sat on the ground and drank a bit of water from my bottle. After I was done, I thought about how I could hypnotize Dan.

Thad accepted right away, after asking one or two questions.

If I was lucky, Dan would do the same.

“Dan?” The older man looked at me. “I think I know how to help with those headaches”

“Yeah? How? They’re getting’ unbearable lately” He asked, with curiosity.

“I think… It may be a dumb thing but…” Playing dumb, had to earn his trust first. “Well, I was studying to be a psychologist and one of the things I’ve learnt at college was about hypnosis and how to use it to help people”

He raised an eyebrow. Here we go with the usual explanation.

“It’s just a practice to help a subject with certain problems, the person who goes under would never do anything that they wouldn’t do the on their own will. Think of it like watching TV or reading a book, you get really focused but you’re still aware of your surroundings”

Dan just stared at me. He understood what I was talking about, or at least I assumed that, because he didn’t look confused at all by my explanation.

“Fine, I trust ya” He said, after a few seconds “We’re family, after all”

Great, now I just needed my phone and the… My phone was missing.

Fuck, I’ve gotten used to using that thing to help me put these guys under. Never mind, Josh. You’ll think something out.

I told him to remain where he was, laying against the oak tree as I got behind him, putting my hands on his shoulders. It was a bit uncomfortable having a tree in the middle of the way, but he seemed comfortable laying on it so I didn’t complain.

“To help with the induction, we need to relax you first. I’ll give you a massage for that, since I forgot my phone with the metronome app I used in my classes, so this is the best I could come up with”

“A’ight, do your best, buddy”

I nodded, and got to work. I began by grabbing his shoulders and started the massage as I got the induction ready in my mind. “First off, let’s start with some deep and slow breaths. Breath in, and out”

I tried to repeat that and establish a rhythm with the shoulder massage, to relax him quickly. I didn’t want to rush things though, since I had to make sure that he went under first.

“Just focus on my voice as you breathe in slowly, feeling a wave of relaxation pass through your body. Then breathe out. And repeat, breathe in. And breathe out.” I assumed I was doing a good job with the massage and the rhythm. I noticed his breathing started slowing down after a little while.

“Now, I’ll count back from ten to one, each number making you more relaxed and taking you deeper in this nice state, understood Dan?”

He nodded. His eyes were closed.

“Alright. 10… 9… 8… Feeling relaxed. 7… 6… Feels good to relax. 5… Feeling sleepier and good. 4… 3… 2… Almost there. 1…”

I let go of his shoulders and sat next to him “Can you hear me, Dan?”

“Yeaah…” That sweet, lovely monotone tone I got used to hearing these last few days.

“Good. Keep doing slow and deep breaths. Each one taking you deeper and deeper into this relaxed state, alright?” He nodded “It feels good to just breathe in, feeling the relaxation going through your body, then out, feeling yourself going twice as deep as before, isn’t that right?”

He nodded again.

I don’t know if I could help him with the headaches, so I started with the suggestions right away.

I could make him completely oblivious to everything that happened, but if he ever snapped out of that…

Maybe a trigger suggestion would do the trick?

“Dan, since I helped you feel good, I must be very trustworthy, right?” He nodded. “That means you can believe everything I say, right?” Another nod “Good. So, every time I start a sentence with “Dan, I think…” you will believe and obey everything I say afterwards, understood?”

I waited a few seconds, until he mumbled a “Yeaaah…”

“And in a few seconds, I’ll count to three and you will wake up feeling great. Not remembering this session but with the suggestions still in mind, understood?”

“Yeeaah…”

“1… 2… 3…” I snapped my fingers and my step father woke up.

“Huh. That felt great” He ruffled his hair a bit before getting up “And my headache is gone, thanks kiddo” I don’t know if hypnosis could help with that, but I’m happy he’s better.

“No problem!” I said, as he checked his clock to see how much time passed “Oh, and by the way. Moose and Thad are both in love with me” The man turned quickly towards me, with a mix of confusion and surprise in his face.

Before he could react, I said “Dan, I think you’re going to be alright with that, and will act oblivious to your sons being in love of me, you don’t really care about it.”

His expression relaxed a lot, before answering “You’re right, it’s somethin’ really normal, buddy. I’m happy for you three!”

Huh, I guess he filled in the blanks by himself. That was great. We slapped hands and got back on the road to the water supply thing.

-----

I won’t bore you with work details, since nothing interesting happened.

After we finished with our work, we went back to the house and noticed Thad was watching TV in the living room.

“You guys didn’t go to the gym today?” I asked him, since that seemed weird. They’re usually getting ready to hit the gym at this point.

“Rest day. As much as I’d love to work out, it’s important to rest, bruh” He said, without taking his eyes off the TV. He was watching a recorded football game.

“Cool, that’s great” I said “Hey, do you know where Shad is?”

“In his room, I think”

I thanked him and went upstairs. I knocked on my stepbrother’s door and waited for him. He opened the door shirtless, and smiled “Bruh! What’s up? I was about to have a shower” He said, holding a set of clean clothes.

“Hey! Mind if we have a chat? I’d like to ask you something… pretty private”

Shad’s jovial expression turned serious in seconds, it was incredible how he achieved that. “Sure, come in” I did, and he closed the door behind me. “What happened? You sound serious, bruh”

Again, I wanted to be straight forward with it. “Carrotlad”

The shirtless hunk’s expression faded. Good to know it worked so well.

“How do you feel?”

“Good…” He mumbled, staring blankly at me.

“Great. Remember, you will believe and obey everything I tell you, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah… Believe and obey, bruh…”

Doing this to my favorite brother of the bunch was kind of making me feel bad. I shrugged it off once again, reminding myself that I wasn’t hurting them in any way, nor would I do anything bad to them.

“You are completely alright with Moose and Thad being in love with me, understood? You’re not uncomfortable and will act oblivious to it”

“Yeah… oblivious…” He mumbled, with a little smile forming on his face.

I snapped my fingers in front of him and life came back to his face.

“Huh… Must have zoned out there, bruh. Were you tellin’ me somethin’?” He said, with a confused face. He started looking around again when he finished.

“Yeah, wanted to tell you that Moose and Thad are now my lovers” I said, pretty straightforward.

He just shrugged and smiled “cool, happy for you guys. I have a girlfriend myself, but I’ll tell you more later. Wanna have that hot shower first” He patted my shoulder, before grabbing his clothes again and heading out.

I went to Moose’s room, and luckily he was just there.

To be honest, I would call Thad and we would have an amazing threesome, but first I’d like to enjoy the big brother all for myself.

And I’ve looked forward to this since finding him zoned out and almost naked a few days ago.

“Hey bruh” He said, with a flirty smile. I just walked up to him and planted a kiss on his lips. “Eager, aren’t we bruh?” Before grabbing the back of my head and pulling me in to make out.

After a while, I grabbed his shirt from below and helped him take it off. We didn’t even bother in closing the door, since everyone were now mind-fucked to just do what I said.

I took off my own shirt and we returned to the kisses.

“What, not gonna invite me in, bruhs?”

Thad was laying against the door frame. “It’s okay, I can come back later-“

“Nonsense, come over here bruh! There’s room for one more, right Josh?”

I nodded in approval and Thad unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his chiseled abs. Then he dropped in front of us and faced our crotches. “Quick, take those off! Can’t wait to start on this, bruh…” He said.

We gave each other another kiss and did as Thad said. He started sucking me off while jerking Moose’s big cock off with the other hand. He was good at it, I got to say.

I was surprised they weren’t bothered by the incest between them, since I haven’t told them anything about it, or to be okay with it.

But never mind. At some point, Thad got up and Moose was the one who went down. We all took turns to blow the other two, so it would be fair.

And after that…

“So, what’s next?” Moose asked, with curiosity.

I thought about it for a second and had an idea that could work.

“Thad, get on all fours and open your mouth. Moose, get behind him and get ready to fuck him.”

I would satisfy with a blowjob, for now. But I couldn’t wait to ride Moose’s later on.

-----

A few months passed by, and everything was great.

My period of expulsion from college finished, and I decided to fight for my place. I got expelled under an injustice, after all!

Don’t get me wrong, now I was very pissed at the administration for the poor work they did before, but luckily I managed to prove myself not guilty.

They wouldn’t want to have their star players expelled if the truth came out, so they didn’t have any option other than to let me back in and continue my studies.

I felt blessed with good luck at that moment, and managed to go back to normal pretty quickly. I moved back to my dorm room and got back on track.

Don’t think I went back to college and went again to not talk to my family. I go back to visit at any chance I have. Little breaks after exams and etc. are always nice to have.

Mom was so happy I started getting along with my stepbrothers, she even bought a cake to celebrate after she returned from her business trip. She had to return quickly to the city to continue working but could take one or two days off to relax.

Of course, that meant no action with Moose and Thad but it was alright. I can handle not doing hot things for a few days.

I also liked to help out in the farm when I’m around, or sometimes we go to the nearby river to pass the day.

The guys took one rest day from the gym when I arrive to make the most of our time together, but at the next day they try to compensate it.

Thad eventually got a girlfriend, when I released him from the love suggestions. It was nice seeing him happy, and I could always turn him back into my lover if I wanted. The ‘potatolad’ trigger still worked even after all this time.

And now? We were getting ready for dinner, after another day of hard work at the farm. I helped Moose with the building maintenance once again, although I preferred to help with the animals. But it was a good excuse to make out in the barn.

It was a good life, studying to get my psychology degree, and visiting my new family at the farm during my free times.

And everything was great.

-----

Someone knocked on the door as we were having dinner one night.

I was the closest one to the door, so I got up and headed there. I kind of got shivers as I got closer.

I opened the door and found a guy, looking to the fields. He was a bit taller than me, but had a biker helmet on so I couldn’t really see his face. “Can I help you?” I asked him.

The stranger turned to me, and proceeded to take off his helmet. It was very appreciated, I hoped he wouldn’t have a mask underneath the helmet or I would freak out.

“Hey, sorry to bother you at these hours but…” He was cute, but he seemed scruffy. His black hair was a mess. His face was childish, and full of dirt.

He seemed younger than me, wearing a leather jacket with a dirty white shirt underneath, and some old and ripped jeans. He was shivering. Was he afraid?

I realized I didn’t hear his question, so I said “What?”

“I said if you knew how to get to Greenwood”

“The town? Yeah” I gave him the proper indications. I wondered why would he want to go there, that place was isolated from the world. No internet, no TV, nothing.

Although, I was still surprised this farm wasn’t isolated from the world to be honest.

The guy gave me a nod, mumbled a “Thank you” and placed the helmet back on his head. He walked to his bike and went on his way.

I quickly closed the door and went back to the table.

“Who was it?” Shad asked.

“Uh… Didn’t ask his name. He wanted to know how to get to Greenwood”

I shrugged, and went back to eat. Shad didn’t ask more questions as we quickly changed the topic, forgetting about the biker as soon as he appeared.

-----

#Gettin' the farmers!#gay hypnosis #hypnosis #hypnotized #mind control #brainwashing #straight to gay #brainwashed

31 notes · View notes

atelier-dayz · 4 years

Text

20-ish Questions: Book Edition

Tagged by the lovely @crispyjenkins <3

I’ve only just started getting back into the groove of reading again because med school sucked. ANYWAYS.

1. hardcover or paperback

I prefer paperback, mostly because they’re easier for me to hold when reading, lighter for transport, and they’re (usually) cheaper LOL

I’ll buy hardcover if I know I’ll love the book a lot since they’re more durable or I’m too impatient to wait for the paperback to release.

2. rent or buy

Always buy. I...didn’t realize you could rent books other than textbooks? LOL

3. reads in silence or reads with music

I’m like 80% of the time listening to music so that includes when reading!

4. standalone or series

Either! It’s been a while since I’ve read books outside of medschool though. Most of the ones I’ve read recently are standalones.

5. annotations or pristine pages

I’m like incapable of writing inside books. LOL I’ll add transparent sticky notes and tabs if I do want to make notes. Or I’ll make notes on my Kindle for e-books.

6. ebook or physical copy

I prefer physical copy.

However, considering I’ve been moving across the world and the US every 1-2 years for the past like...6-10? years and traveling a bunch, e-books are so much easier to transport, so I’ve been reading them more. And they’re often times cheaper and I had zero income with max debt. (Also this way, I can store my favorite fics onto my Kindle along with my favorite books ehehe)

All my physical copy books are currently at my parents’ house. :’(

7. dog ears or bookmarks

Bookmarks! Or whatever scrap of paper I have on hand LOL I don’t like folding my book pages...

8. mismatched series or complete set

A mismatched set would bother the HECK out of me....

9. cover matters or you don’t judge

Oh I totally judge a book by its cover LOL Presentation is important! But it’s not like a deal-breaker or anything. The summary/blurb and author’s writing style is always important too. But I have totally bought another copy of a book I already had just for a nicer cover.

10. lend books or keep them to yourself

I used to lend/exchange books with a friend in high school. Now most of my friends are docs/med students so no one has time to read ;~;

11. enjoys lit classes or despises them

Major mixed feelings. I loved reading (most) of the books we were assigned. I loved the creative assignments we got. What I didn’t like were writing essays. I got good grades and all and didn’t do poorly on them, but there was always something missing in my essays keeping them from like great vs good, according to my teachers. Turns out it was a cultural difference in presenting arguments, and so the Western structure of essay writing never jived with me even though all my formative schooling was in the US???? (NTS: I need to find that article explaining the difference between presenting arguments in the West vs the East. It had to do with like inductive vs deductive reasoning.)

So yeah, mixed feelings on lit class. I did avoid taking one of the AP English classes specifically because of the damn essays.

12. browses shops or orders online

I love browsing stores, but haven’t had any time for that in years, so mostly ordering online. Also COVID is rampant here so no exploring the nice-looking indie bookstores for a while. ;D;

13. reads reviews or goes in blind

Usually go in blind. Exceptions for recommendations from friends or what people might be saying about the books in my spheres of social media.

14. unreturned books or clean library record

Well, since I moved here, I’ve gotten a new library card! So far, a clean record. But considering COVID is rampant here, I’m sticking with ebook borrows right now so no unreturned books!

15. rereads or once was enough

Definitely rereads!!! Rereading JA now. I re-read Pride & Prejudice every 2-3 years btw. LOL

16. fanfic enthusiast or a stickler for canon

Considering I write fanfic? Fanfic enthusiast for sure! XD Sticking only to canon would be boring and so limiting!! And sometimes you just need that fix-it to glue your heart back together LOL Canon informs my writing, but I don’t 100% adhere to it!

17. deep reader or easily distracted

If I’m enjoying the book, I’m a deep reader and will literally sit there and finish the book. No breaks. No sleep. Which is also why I haven’t read much in the past few years LOL

18. must read the book before seeing the movie or order doesn’t matter

Order doesn’t particularly matter to me. I’m not a big stickler on movies staying 100% faithful to the book. But yeah also not a fan of movies changing details that didn’t need to be changed. What I don’t like is when movies change or don’t include what I find an important scene in the book. (Like the execution of [insert scene here] means so much to me and you just -- LEAVE IT OUT???)

19. neat bookshelves or messy bookshelves

My books are all over the place, but uuuh usually starts out neat and then gets messy as I accumulate more books LOL

20. skips ahead or resists temptation

I usually just read straight through. I have been burned by the endings of several fics and books though, so depending on how the story is going, I might peek at the last paragraph. Just to be safe.

21. reads aloud or in your head

I can’t even listen to audiobooks or podcasts most of the time unless I’m like building furniture or something alkdfjas so definitely only reading in my head.

22. guesses plot twists or never sees them coming

I don’t go out of my way to guess the twists? Like if the clues are there and I pick up on them, great. I just sit back and enjoy the story?

Tagging @kitsunekage88 @rinrinp42 @amillionstarsandyouchoosethisone and @turtletotem <3

No obligation to answer these of course! This one is also kind of long LOL

Originally posted by thesunshineatsunset

#tag game #crispyjenkins

5 notes · View notes

ddagent · 4 years

Note

Oh, the one about Halloween looks really interesting! I was deciding between The Testament by Margaret Atwood (I reread The Handmaid's Tale every year, its mundane tone is so marvelous and terrifying, but haven't read the new one yet; though they should've closed the show after the first season, imo) and Uprooted by Naomi Novik and chose the latter. It'll probably keep me busy for a couple of months, where have the old days when I could swallow one book in a few hours gone. 1/2

I think you'll be a great teacher! To me all people who willingly become teachers are something between heroes and saints, I mean, the stress! The responsibility! I could've NEVER. As a side note, your sugar daddy!Jaime ficlets are amazing and give me life (and make me envy lmao). 2/2

I haven’t started the Halloween book, yet, but a teaser for Halloween Kills has just been released and I’m all excited again; might pick it up this weekend. I’ve heard of Atwood, but haven’t read either authors, I’m afraid. I have quite eclectic tastes in books, but there is a lot of crime/horror on the shelves. But, yeah, long gone are the days where I would just sit and read a book in one sitting. Other than Christmas, that is. I always spend Christmas Day reading one whole book.

Thank you, Anon! I’m really excited/somewhat scared. I’ve found out my placement schools; my first is only ten minutes up the road so I’ll be able to ease into things. Just waiting for my induction day on Friday so I’ll have more information and know how much will be expected of me over the summer.

I ADORE writing sugar daddy!Jaime. I really need to get off my arse and turn it into a series, because it’s begging for oneshots of Jaime desperate to spoil Brienne, and she doing everything in her power not to accept his money. I’m so glad you enjoy them! <3

Do you have anything exciting planned for the weekend, Anon?

#question time #Anonymous

3 notes · View notes

sceptilemasterr · 3 years

Text

Defenders of the Flame (TE Rewrite) Act 3, Scene 4 - The Approaching Storm

Title: Defenders of the Flame (A CIU Screenplay)

Main Pairings: Shreya x F!MC, Beckett x F!Atlas

Other Pairings: N/A

Genre: Full Rewrite (The Elementalists, Book 1)

Rating: PG-13 for violence, blood, swearing, alcohol, and sexuality

Summary: The heads of the Stoicheal Orders meet to discuss recent events.

Previous Scene: "That Distance Between Us"

Masterlist: Link

INT. UNKNOWN BUILDING - CONFERENCE CHAMBER - NIGHT

That night, several Penderghast professors sit around a large central table. They are surrounded by walls of brick, on which are flickering torches alternating with six elaborate stained-glass windows, each depicting a different Attunement’s motif. The only visible entrance to the room lies above them, where a round, recessed opening sits covered only by a shimmering stoicheal barrier. The seat in front of the Fire-themed window is empty, while the other five are all occupied.

DR. ENGLUND: Well then. Shall we begin?

A chorus of assents follows his statement. The others in the room turn their attention to the empty chair at the table. Dr. Religast shakes her head as she looks around at the others.

DR. RELIGAST: I see Evelyn is still absent. Has anyone heard from her recently?

Dr. Kontos sighs and shakes his head.

DR. KONTOS: Nothing. I... I fear the worst.

DR. RALLAH: I have tried tuning my most powerful pangasols to her signature, but they have all shown no response.

DR. ENGLUND: So she is either in the Archikeal Realm, or--

DR. RALLAH (irritated): Taerl, do you really think I haven’t tried that? I’ve traveled into the Archikeal Realm with the pangasols. Still nothing. Meaning--

DR. RELIGAST: She could be in the Between. That’s the only possibility left, other than...

Dr. Religast sighs, leaving the obvious alternative hanging unspoken. From his seat in front of the Water window, Dr. Vartokis clears his throat.

DR. VARTOKIS: Speaking of the Between, I believe we have a certain recent phenomenon to discuss, no? As of Induction Day, that makes two of these unusual “breaches” within the past year. Has anyone made any headway?

DR. ENGLUND: They appear to be isolated incidents. Some sort of unusual stoicheal pulse echoing throughout the Between, causing a temporary thinning of the barrier. From what I’ve managed to gather... these “pulses” both originated in the Archikeal Realm. And from the same location, besides.

DR. RALLAH: The same location? That cannot be a coincidence.

DR. RELIGAST: I agree. Do we know where?

Dr. Englund shakes his head.

DR. ENGLUND: Not yet.

DR. KONTOS: Which brings us to the matter of who might have interest in thinning the barrier. A certain someone who has been trapped inside. Has there been any activity from Highmore's cultists lately? Anything that might suggest he has escaped?

DR. RELIGAST: That’s the strangest part, Linden. As far as I can tell... there’s been absolutely nothing. So either he missed the opportunity to escape--

DR. ENGLUND: Doubtful.

DR. RELIGAST: --or he’s planning something big. Something that would need him to lie low until it’s ready.

DR. KONTOS: Do we know for certain that these “breaches” would allow an Attuned to escape? It may be that the barrier wasn’t weakened enough for--

Dr. Vartokis shakes his head.

DR. VARTOKIS: Someone escaped the Between during the second breach. I wasn’t certain before, but... from what I can tell, there is an incredibly powerful Water-Att on Penderghast’s campus at this very moment.

The others all turn to stare at him.

DR. RALLAH: You’re certain of this.

DR. VARTOKIS: Positive. Every once in a while, I get a feel for it. It’s a powerful Water-Att signature, no doubt about it.

DR. RELIGAST: If they’re a Water-Att, then it can’t be Highmore. And you’re sure whoever-it-is came from the Between?

DR. VARTOKIS: No other explanation. All transit in and out of Pennelia’s stoicheal bubble has been closely monitored. If a Water-Att this powerful had been spotted entering, I would’ve been told right away, no?

DR. RALLAH: You have a point. But still...

DR. VARTOKIS: I'll continue my investigation. It’s possible whoever-this-is was one of Highmore's followers. I know there were a few trapped inside along with him. I’ll get to the bottom of this.

DR. RALLAH: Good. Let us know as soon as you find anything. As for Dr. Swan’s continued absence... Maya?

DR. RELIGAST: Me?

DR. RALLAH: Yes, you. I want you to scour Pennelia’s bubble top to bottom. If Dr. Swan has been trapped in the Between, she likely found a way to leave us some sign to follow. Knowing her, it may even be something one can only identify from the air. Thus making you the perfect person for the job.

DR. RELIGAST (nods): I’ll do my best. Hopefully you’re right!

DR. ENGLUND: I will bring our concerns to Elise. It’s possible that, as dean, she has access to additional resources that may help us in these matters.

DR. RALLAH: Excellent suggestion. Which leaves you, Linden. You likely already know your assignment.

DR. KONTOS: Naturally. I will contact the other chapters of Gaia’s Sentinels. Together, we will intensify our search for any unusually powerful bursts of Wood or Life Stoichi throughout the Stoicheal Realms. If Highmore has indeed escaped, it is my duty to stop him. And that I shall do.

DR. RALLAH: Very good. And I will monitor all sources of reflection in the Pennelia bubble; if another breach occurs, I will be ready to take advantage of it to find Evelyn and retrieve her from the Between.

DR. ENGLUND: Then it seems our meeting has adjourned.

DR. RELIGAST: Let’s hope next time, Evelyn will be here with us.

As the professors get up from their chairs, they stop to glance forlornly at the empty Fire chair. One by one, each uses their particular brand of stoicheal technique to pass through the exit in the ceiling. Finally, Dr. Kontos is the last one to leave. He hesitates.

DR. KONTOS (muttering): Something isn’t right. But what...

He sighs and shakes his head. Then, with a flick of a wrist, he summons vines that grow down from the ceiling and wrap around his waist, lifting him gently up toward the exit after the others.

_______________________

Notes: Now for something completely different... an entire scene without Fiora?! Weird. I'd wanted to have a few more of these "meanwhile with the professors" scenes for a while, but decided to wait until Dr. Vartokis got introduced formally. And it also made for a nice excuse to reveal some of the professors' first names!

Worldbuilding: Dr. Rallah mentioned a "pangasol." This is a device that, when activated by a powerful Metal-Att, performs a super-advanced version of the Locator spell from canon. Like the canon spell, the device requires an object belonging to the person/thing being searched for in order to work properly.

_______________________

Next: To Ask a Question

CIU Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @endlesshero1122 @bbaba-yagaa @acidsugar0 @shaylan211 @griselda1121 @acanthisorbis @marmolady @choicesbabie

DotF/Elementalists Tag List:

#the elementalists rewrite #choices the elementalists #choices stories you play #csyp #fanfic #ciu project #choices interconnected universe #defenders of the flame #dotf #professor englund #professor kontos #professor swan #dr religast #dr vartokis #dr rallah #even the other professors/order heads don't know where dr swan went #this can't be good...#pend pals to the rescue?#nah time for gala date-finding shenanigans first

8 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 4 years

Text

807

Have you ever laughed at someone because they had a funny name? No, that sounds awful. I had so many kids laugh at me because of my name when I was younger, so I’ve learned better than to do that. If I come across a weird name I’m more likely to judge the parents than the kid themselves. Speaking of names, why do celebrities always call their kids stupid ones? It’s not just celebrities who do these; they’re just famous so they get all the attention. Generally though I really don’t know why more and more people have been choosing to give their kids odd names. X Æ A-Xii in particular stresses me outtttttttttt PLEASE LOVE YOUR CHILD If you have a problem with someone, will you confront them? Depends on who it is and how big/personal my problem is with them. I won’t always confront someone; sometimes it’s best to act like you don’t care. How do you like your tea? (: Iced, lemonade, and with a lot of sugar. Do you get car sick easily? No, only if I do something to induce motion sickness like reading or texting.

What did you want to be when you were a kid? The earliest occupations I wanted to have were firefighter, astronaut, and a veterinarian. When I got a little older I wanted to become an author. Insert funny memory here: My favorite story to hear from my friends was when my org had a get-together shortly after we got new officers elected (myself included), and when I got drunk enough I was apparently announcing the suspensions of newly-inducted orgmates I was yet to know more, effective immediately loooool. It was part of my ~powers so I guess that’s why I spent nearly the whole evening doing that. I made sure to apologize to those people the day after. :(( Do you think you're a good conversationalist? Why is that? Yes, when it comes down to it. I pride myself on being a good listener – pair this with the fact that I’ve also learned to ask good questions through the years as a journalism student – so this ability usually includes being able to catch on to the little details they say. From there, I’m able to ask them questions I know they’d love to answer. My trick in conversations is to just have people talk about the things or hobbies they love, because time usually flies by then. Are you more likely to be called a hard worker or lazy? Hard worker. What is your sense of humour like? It’s pretty flexible. I can laugh at kiddie jokes, dark jokes as long as they are not blatantly offensive and harmful, and at the same time I can laugh at dank memes that make absolutely no sense whatsoever. Do you think you're fairly intelligent? In what way? Yeah, but it’s book smarts more than anything else. I like reading and racking up new knowledge, memorizing things, acing tests, etc. I don’t consider myself street smart at all sadly lol, and I’m still super dependent on other people when it comes to crossing the road, commuting (if I have to), bargaining, etc. How do you like your eggs? Poached or scrambled. Do you enjoy visiting your relatives? I look forward to the food being served more than anything else, because Filipino family reunions don’t fuck around when it comes to the preparations haha. Other than that, I’m always a bit wary when visiting family because Filipino relatives also tend to come up with the worst introductory statements: “You’ve gotten so fat,” “Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend yet?” and “I don’t like what you’re posting on Facebook” are just starters. What's your favourite thing about the nearest upcoming holiday? That would be Independence Day, and I like that it’s solely ours. Our independence day used to be on July 4th to be the same as America’s, but a past president changed it to June 12th so we can instead commemmorate the day we gained independence from Spain, instead of sharing our independence day with a colonizer. Have you ever been on a float in a parade? What were you doing on it? No, I haven’t. Have you ever had a strange compliment? What was it? I’ve probably gotten one or two of them but I don’t keep comments like those in my memory, so there’s a very good chance I’ve forgotten all about them. When was the last time you had deja vu? I don’t really remember exactly when but it was sometime within the last week. Have you ever had a dream in black and white? I don’t think so. I’d remember it if I have. What about a dream with no sound? Nope. What is something you find interesting but would never pursue as a career? Astronaut. It’s such an awesome job and I look up to everyone who does it, but for me it’ll always stay as a fantasy career. I’m simply not good enough at science to understand how stuff in space works; plus I get dizzy extremely easily and that’s not gonna work well for me when it’s time to board the spaceship lol. What types of people do you tend to avoid? Racists, homophobes, and fanatical Catholics. What is one personality trait a potential friend must have? They must have an introverted side. I can’t deal with people who are super active 24/7. Have you ever seen someone slip on a banana peel? Nope, I’ve only mostly seen that happen in Mario Kart hah. Have you ever been in a helicopter? I have not. What is a colour you love that's not your favourite? Maroon. Where would you like to travel to? Anywhere outside the house would be a great start. I’d love to get to go inside a mall, any mall. What colour is your car? / What colour would you like it to be? My car is white, and I’m happy with it being white. It looks clean and sleek that way, for me. Does anything hurt on your body right now? What? No but I’m feeling a little hot. I need a shower. What is your favourite mode of travelling? Road trip or by plane. Have you ever had Chickenpox? I haven’t. Dreading the day it comes to me because I just know it’ll be a million times worse as an adult. Can you roll your eyes into the back of your head? I can but it’s very uncomfortable and I don’t do it at all. I only did it often as a kid, whenever I wanted to scare off my sister or make funny faces with my cousins. If you have online friends, do you think you'd get on in real life? Yes, I think so. I’ve only had one negative experience with an online friend who turned out to be a dipshit, but I like to keep optimistic when it comes to my other friends. Who is your favourite animated character? Answered this in another survey, but Spongebob. I also took a big liking to Mr. Peanutbutter from BoJack Horseman since he was the only one who kept me happy throughout the show hahahaha. Are your favourites often what the majority like? Like, in relation to my above answers? I know a lot of people didn’t really like Mr. Peanutbutter because he was horrible at reading Diane’s love language and due to his tendency to mask reality with humor and general immaturity, so there’s that. Spongebob is pretty much universally loved by everyone who has seen the show, though. If you could have anything for dinner tonight, what would you choose? I did have dinner already and I was very happy with the sisig my dad made. I would have had it with soju, but I already drank coffee today and with my body just finishing up healing itself from my awful fever last week, I don’t wanna beat up my body by mixing coffee and alcohol immediately lol. Do you prefer sweet or savoury foods? Savory. Do you worry about eating too much? What about eating too little? I don’t really worry about either. I find that I eat a healthy amount of food for all my meals, so there’s little reason to overanalyze that department. Is it dark outside right now? Yes, it’s 10:30 PM. The moon has an interesting haze around it at the moment that makes it hard to miss, but otherwise it’s very dark. Do you get scared when it's a full moon? No. Do you think Jaffa Cakes are a cake or a biscuit? xP I don’t even know what those are and I’m too lazy to check. If you go anywhere, do you always buy souvenirs for people? Nah, just for Gab. What was the last toy you got in a cereal box? I don’t know, I don’t remember. The last time there was a toy in a cereal box we bought would probably be like 16 years ago lol. Hypothetically speaking, if you owned a charm bracelet, would you always make sure the charms meant something to you? Not really. I imagine I’d get charms just because I want to collect them lol. I know Pandora does a lot of charm collections, like Disney and Harry Potter. It doesn’t always have to mean something to me. Are you waiting on anyone coming home right now? No. Everyone living here is home now. Is it easy to make you gag? Nope. I watch pro wrestling dude, I’ve seen lots of disgusting stuff go down. It’ll take a lot before I gag. Do you like the way your voice sounds? Yes, I’m alright with it for the most part. Do you usually keep to yourself? This is pretty vague. You mean about my personal life? I’d say so. I normally would keep to myself but I’m also an open book, if that makes sense. Like I’m okay with spilling out my stories or emotions, but people have to come to me and ask for them; otherwise I’m just staying quiet. Can you see the stars from your house? Sure. Sky looks best when you’re at the rooftop though. How would you react if your favourite band made a song with your first name as its title? It would be on repeat for like three months lol. What is a word or phrase you've been told you overuse? It’s been years but a prof once told me I used “okay, so...” a lot as a transition when I report. I appreciated the comment though and since that time I’ve been more watchful of the phrases I use when I report. Are you considered an awkward person? I have my times, yeah. I’ve gotten considerably better in dealing with people though and usually it’s them that’s awkward now, not me lol. Has a career advisor ever helped you choose your ideal career? No, I’ve never met up with a career advisor before. If you were abandoned for a week, would you be able to fend for yourself? Yes, as long as instant food and some basic frozen food are accessible to me ahuhu. Is there a light on in the room you're in? Yes. Have you ever been friends with someone who was your complete opposite? YES, Gabie and I cannot be any more different. Sometimes I still wonder how she and I ended up being friends at all, but I chalk it up to our humor and the way our (very different) personalities manage to mesh well together. Have you ever wished you were an identical twin? If one, do you hate it? Not really. What day were you born on? Tuesday. What's your favourite number? Why did you pick that? I never really had a favorite number. Whenever I have to pick one I just say 4 just because it’s Beyoncé’s favorite and she uses it on literally every concert, show, etc. so I’ve come to encounter it a lot as well lol. What does your favourite perfume / deodorant smell like? A little fruity. Who's your favourite Disney character? Flynn Rider. Do you like having a favourite everything or do you enjoy keeping open? I like having a favorite everything but I also like keeping my options open just in case I ever wanna shift favorites. What's your favourite advertisment? Or do you find them all irritating? I don’t pick ads to be my favorite lol. They’re not irritating, but I just don’t particularly care about any of them.

#survey #surveys

4 notes · View notes

inscrutable-shadow · 4 years

Text

Caught

For @flashfictionfridayofficial, my third piece. This is less fanfiction of my own work and more a sneak peek at one of the scenes in my upcoming fantasy heist, Five Card Draw. Narrated by Prue Kerry, an enby former pickpocket newly inducted into the crime syndicate the Stacked Deck, this scene takes place after an alarm is set off on a mission and they and their mentor, the Jack of Clubs, are caught. Enjoy!

The bolt slams into its housing in the wall with a metallic clang, and we are alone.

I glance over to the Jack, who is staring straight ahead of him like a sorcerer trying to concentrate. Maybe he's trying to teleport somewhere else, which would be stupid, cause he doesn't have magic. I wish I could use mine on command. Maybe I could have stayed free, sprung him out somehow. Too late for that, though. I begin to fidget on the hard stone bench. The silence is smothering, like six inches of snow being dropped at once. At least, it's probably like that. I've never seen real snow. Harley showed me a picture in a book, told me about the experience. She's seen mountains. I'm rambling. I don't like silence, leaves me too much space to think.

"Jack?" No response. I can't tell if he's so deep in reverie it's like catatonia, or if he's just ignoring me. I wait a few moments and try again. "Jack? Are you okay?"

He slides his eyes slowly to his left to look at me. "Yes, Four. I'm... fine."

He must be angry. "I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't mean to-"

"Wasn't your fault. It was mine. I should have checked for traps and alarms before letting you touch anything. There shouldn't have been any room for you to make an error that would have caused this."

"But you would have-"

"Even I would have set off that alarm. Especially today. My head's not in the game. I'm sorry, Four. This... should never have happened. I haven't... failed... like this in, gotta be thirty years." Thirty?

"How old are you, Jack?"

He chuckles. "Older than I look."

"You look barely older than me."

"I ought to look about nineteen. That's how old I was when I stopped aging. Don't ask any questions about that here, don't know who's listening."

I do what I'm told, and terminate that line of questioning. I still can't stand the quiet, though. "What happens now?"

"Queen'll get us out. She can't afford to lose me, or at least, can't afford to risk me being tortured for information. But it'll cost us, money, favors, time. Our reputation'll tank in the eyes of the other syndicates." He scrubs his hands over his face underneath his mask, a sudden exhaustion taking over his body. "She'll be furious."

"What is she gonna do to us?"

"Don't know. Could be anything, really. Never screwed up this bad before."

"She wouldn't hurt us, would she?"

"Me, sure. You, never. Physical punishments are for Suits only."

That doesn't make sense. "Aren't you like her family? Seems like you'd be the ones she wouldn't punish."

"No. Think about it this way. If she ordered a beating for you, you'd think her cruel, yeah? Wouldn't make you do better, you'd just resent her. Us, we start to think of ourselves as untouchable. She wouldn't ever kick us out or have us killed, so what could she really do? Physical punishments keep the price of failure real for us. We know she doesn't want to have to remind us of it, so we push ourselves to perfection. She hasn't had to punish one of us in maybe a decade, Ace used to buck authority a bit but she's settled down." A sigh drains out of him, taking what's left of his energy with it. "I'm supposed to be the best of the best. How did I let this happen?"

It's painful to watch. I guess I've never thought about what the stakes are for the Suits to do their jobs well. I'm working to be able to stay here where I feel like I belong for the first time in my life, to get promoted, to maybe be a Suit one day. For them to stay at the peak of their craft for decades, it had to be more than pure dedication. Fear of failure was what drove them, of course Jack's reaction to this catastrophic failure was sheer terror.

"We could say it was my fault!" I say, not really hoping to provide a solution.

"Never. You're in training, this could never have been your fault. And besides, you can't afford to be demoted, there's not really a lot of wiggle room for you. No. I'll take full responsibility. When they come, keep your mouth shut. I'll do the talking."

I stop talking to him after that, pacing up and down the tiny room while he sits with his head on his knees. He needs his space. The door unlocks an hour later. It's Ace, in her mask, disapproval radiating from her.

"Get up. Queen wants to see you."

I look at Jack one more time, the mask underneath his mask on again, danger flaring in his eyes. "I want to see her, too."

As we return to the compound, I feel like I'm moving from one prison to another.

#flash fic friday #wip: five card draw #prue kerry #jack of clubs #coy writes

10 notes · View notes

emotionally-imbruised · 5 years

Note

I’ve been thinking non-stop about gemma and y/n not knowing what to talk about now that y/n is dating harry because like they’re best friends and y/n wants to spill about the amazing sex she’s having omg ail is amazing and I’m so happy it’s getting the recognition it deserves

I love you??? Thank you so much hun wow. And ok, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it either, and with all the hontent we received the weekend of the hall of fame induction??? It just turned into this whole thing lol, enjoy. (Ok so this turned out way more dramatic than I anticipated initially but oh welllllll.)

Accidentally In Love: Didn’t Mean To Do It

Word Count: 3.4k

“Gem?”

Your best friend doesn’t look up as you speak but instead continues to type away on her phone, not realizing you had said anything at all. After she sends the message she was so focused on, she finally glances up and jumps slightly when she sees you staring back at her. “I’m sorry, what?”

“What’re you and Michal going off about now, hmm?” You ask jokingly as you glance down at her phone to see a conversation open with her boyfriend’s name at the top of it.

“Talking about you actually,” she replies with a smirk before taking a sip of her steaming coffee — winking as she does so, knowing it’ll get a rise out of you.

“Only good things I hope.”

“Mmm, maybe. Maybe not.” The two of you both let out a small laugh as she sets her mug back down and soon lets an awkward silence seemingly inflate the space between the two you.

This coffee date with Gemma has been… odd, to say the least. You flew to London from LA yesterday (Sunday) evening to begin your week-long stay in the UK for a quick little vacation from work and went out of your way to make sure that a good chunk of your time here was spent with your best friend; which naturally, she agreed to. The two of you are now currently sat in the small cafe across the street from your hotel, finally catching up, seeing as you hadn’t seen each other since when she was in LA last and well… everyone knows how that was slightly disastrous.

Having your best friend walk in on you, making out with her brother was one thing you never thought you’d experience ever, but alas, that’s precisely what happened. You hated everything about the situation (minus the finally being able to kiss Harry part) because you knew it put Gemma in an awkward place and were just very unsure of what to do next. A huge weight seemed to be lifted from your chest when she eventually came around and said she was ok with you and Harry pursuing whatever it was going on between the two of you.

However, this is the first time the two of you have been in the same place since then, and she’s been acting a little strange. Gemma’s barely said a word to you other than the initial catching up, and if there’s one thing you know about your best friend, it’s how to tell when something is bothering her — especially if whatever it is bugging her has something to do with people she cares about.

After another moment of observing her, you finally decide to ask her about it. “Hey, is everything ok?”

“Oh, uh yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” She shakes her head slightly, and it’s clear that your question caught her off guard, but you don’t let that stop you.

“You’ve just been oddly quiet. Usually, when we get the chance to meet up after a long period, it’s nearly impossible to shut either of us up… we’ve barely said anything to each other, G. Is something on your mind?”

“I… I guess I just don’t know what to talk to you about anymore,” she responds and averts her gaze from you completely.

“What do you mean by that?” You ask in a slightly defensive tone. “You know we can talk to each other about anything.”

“Can we though? Because ever since you started messing around with my brother, that hasn’t really been the case.”

And there it is. You had a feeling this might’ve been what was bugging her, but you still weren’t able to prepare yourself for the sting you felt as the words left her mouth to confirm this theory. “I-I don’t know what you want me to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she states firmly and takes another sip of her coffee. “M’just letting you know how I feel, cause… I don’t know, it just hasn’t been the same since, well you know. We used to be able to share everything before a couple of months ago, now it’s just weird.”

“Weird? Gemma, I literally avoided Harry for two weeks after telling him how I felt out of fear that this would happen. Weird is a damn understatement when it comes to all of this, but the one thing I thought would’ve stayed consistent out of all that was our friendship. Nothing has changed, ok? I’m still me.”

“Everything has changed Y/N, how do you not see that?” The eldest Styles sibling begins, and you feel a slight sense of aggravation bubble within you at her tone. “You’re not just my best friend anymore; you’re also my brother’s girlfriend, or fuck buddy, or whatever it is the two of you call it because, hell I don’t know.”

“Is that why you’re mad? Because I haven’t gone into details about my sex or personal life as of late?” You ask incredulously and watch as she lets out a loud huff. “Honestly didn’t think you’d want to hear about that kind of thing anymore.”

“Ew no, I would never want to hear anything regarding that when my brother is involved,” she defends with a scrunched-up nose. “But Y/N, this is what I’m trying to say! We used to talk about this kind of thing completely unfazed because that’s what friends do. I just, feel like I’m losing my best friend. And it just so happens to be to Harry of all people.”

“You’re not losing me to anyone G. I know this is still so weird, and I’m still getting used to it all too, but Harry makes me really happy. The happiest I’ve been in a long time with any relationship I’ve developed because fuck, a lot of people I’ve associated with are awful. Harry is not one of those people, and he treats me really well. As my best friend, I thought you’d want that for me.”

“Of course I want that for you, you’re crazy to think otherwise. I want that for Harry too, but I haven’t quite adjusted to the thought of the two of you being that for each other. Does that make any sense?”

“Nope… Can honestly say I’m still pretty lost actually,” you respond with an unconvincing chuckle and try to ignore the fact that you can feel your eyes beginning to water out of frustration. “I mean, i-is this your way of saying you don’t want me and Harry to be together?”

“Y/N I-.”

You watch your best friend open and close her mouth a few times without finishing her sentence, making it apparent just how much she’s considering her words before she says them. A moment passes, and the awkward silence unsurprisingly resumes again. Gemma lets out a sigh of defeat, and you can’t help the scoff that leaves your mouth as you reach up to wipe away the stray tear that uncooperatively decided to escape from your eye. “That’s exactly what you’re trying to say, isn’t it?”

“I’m not even sure if that’s what I’m trying to say yet.” She replies, causing you to look at her questionably. “I’m definitely not the biggest fan of what the two of you have going on, mainly because I’m not used to it. But I’d never ask you to choose between him or me. No, I can’t do that to you or my brother, I just… almost wish it didn’t happen to begin with if m’being honest.”

This time it’s your turn to let out a sigh of defeat as you shake your head, and blink back more of the tears you feel are threatening to escape. This is exactly what you tried to avoid back in December when this whole thing with you and Harry started. Every bit of you wishes Gemma would’ve said something then about how she felt about the situation because this exact conversation could have been prevented. With how she handled everything that happened in LA, you genuinely thought she was ok with you and Harry possibly being more than just friends — but clearly, that was misinterpreted, and you have one question racing through your mind because of it; what changed her mind?

You like to think of yourself as someone Gemma would consider good enough to date her brother, someone she’d trust enough to never intentionally hurt him. Which you feel that you are as well, but with how she’s acting right now; maybe that isn’t the case, and that thought hurts a lot to even just consider.

Unsure of what to do next, you advert your gaze from hers and decide to do what you do best — plan an escape route. “Right. I uh, I think I’m going to go back to the hotel.”

“What? No,” she starts and stands up from the table at the same time you do. “Y/N, I didn’t mean to upset you. I know it probably doesn’t seem like that because of how I’ve handled everything, but I honestly didn’t, and I’m sorry. I just wanted to let you know what I was feeling, please sit down so we can talk about this.”

“I need to think some things over before I have this conversation with you Gem, so I am going to leave. I uh, I’ll see you on Thursday when we get lunch with your mum.” And with that, you gather up your things before making your exit; not saying another word or bothering to give her one last glance, despite the holes you feel her gaze is burning into your back as you go.

That evening, you’re sat in the king-sized bed in the hotel room you awkwardly had to ask reception desk to book for a few more days as you figured everything out. Originally you were only supposed to stay in the hotel for just your first night in London and spend the next few nights of your stay with Harry at his apartment before he left for New York City that Thursday for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony. With Harry having plans to only be in NYC for two nights before coming back to the UK, you were going to stay with Gemma before going back to Harry’s once he returned home for the remainder of your trip. But now that’s all changed because of your stupid overthinking mind and everything else that has happened today.

You’ve yet to see Harry at all since arriving here from LA, and that alone is making everything so much more difficult. He made the trip to Holmes Chapel this past weekend for a visit with some friends and just so happened to be getting ready for his drive back to London when you called him saying you wouldn’t be at his apartment when he got home. You didn’t go into details about your coffee date with Gemma, just explained how you needed to think some things over without stating what those things were; which left him even more confused. When he started pressing for more information, you panicked and ended up cutting the conversation short by saying there was poor reception in the hotel and accidentally losing cell service before he could protest.

Flash forward to the present time, and you now feel like absolute garbage about it all. You’re still unsure of what to with the whole situation you’ve created for yourself and frankly, you really just don’t want to tonight.

A small buzz from your phone goes off from under one of the many pillows on the bed to indicate another new notification from probably either Harry or Gemma, but you continue to ignore it as you let out a breath and take in your surroundings. Sprawled out around you are an open bag of potato chips and a couple chocolate bar wrappers. The half-full bottle of wine you bought earlier remains perched in easy reach on the nightstand, and finally, about seven tissues you used to wipe away your tears as you watched the final few episodes for season 2 of Grey’s Anatomy stay scattered all over the place. A girl is allowed to eat her feelings ok, and if your current setting doesn’t flawlessly display what someone who is ‘going through it looks like, you really don’t know what else will.

Your phone buzzes again as your gaze falls back to your laptop that has displayed the darkened screen asking if you’re still watching for the past few minutes now and gasp when you see your reflection. The messy bun your hair was thrown up into earlier has come loose and is now flopped to the side of your head, your eyes are noticeably puffy looking, and mascara streaks stain your now very rosy cheeks. You look like a hot mess, to say the least, but you really don’t care at this point.

After a moment, you make the executive decision that maybe you should go have a nice warm shower to recollect your so obviously clouded mind before perhaps deciding to not be a coward and actually respond to Harry. Ok, maybe not Harry, but at least Gemma. Harry will just divert your attention from thinking this whole thing through and figuring out what will be best for everyone, even if that consists of breaking someone’s heart; which you undoubtedly feel will end up being your own.

Once you’re all situated in the washroom and are about to start running the water so you can allow it to warm up, a knock sounds from out in the room. It catches you off guard momentarily, and you find yourself frozen and waiting to see if whoever is there will knock again. When they do knock for the second time, you quickly look to your naked reflection in the mirror before scrambling back into the room so you can change before answering the door. “Uh, just a second!”

“Y/N, can you let me in please?” Harry’s voice booms from out in the hall sounding rather desperate, which causes you to freeze in your tracks.

“H?”

“Yes, now would you open the door?”

With a quick shake of your head at his unexpected visit, you look over your shoulder at the fluffy towers folded up on a shelf in the washroom and make a quick dash to grab one so you can wrap it around your body before going back to answer the door. “Hey, what’re-?”

“Y/N, what the hell?” Harry stresses as he barges into the hotel room and immediately starts pacing; running a hand through his growing curls as he goes. “I’ve spent well over the last three hours trying to get a hold of you after you hung up on me for no reason thinking that something happened, or that you had someone here and this was your way of ending things with me or… or-.”

“Woah, hey, look at me, ok?” You start as you shut the door and reach out to grip onto his arms, so he stays in place; making sure to tighten your armpits, so the towel doesn’t fall loose. “I’m right here, alone, without a scratch on me. I’ve been watching Grey’s Anatomy and eating my feelings if you really want to know what I was doing.”

“Without me?” He scoffs and earns a chuckle from you. “What’s with the towel?”

“I was about to have a shower,” you reply, causing a pout to form on his lips at the thought of you not including him in that either. “See, you’ve got nothing to be so worked up about.”

“Sorry. Kind of an initial reaction when my girlfriend, who I haven’t seen in quite a while calls me saying I won’t get to see her out of nowhere.”

You can feel him relax under your touch and can’t help but just continue staring at him in awe without being able to respond, even as he snakes an arm around your waist to pull you against him. “Girlfriend?”

“Well… yeah,” he says as a slight blush starts tinging his cheeks, and a stupid smile stretches across your mouth. “Been calling you that for a while now to all m’friends. They think I’m pretty whipped, starting to think I might be too.”

Without another word, he leans down to connect his lips with yours, which you instinctively respond to; allowing the ache and craving you’ve felt for him during your time apart to take over as logic screams at you to not. He gently pushes you backwards until your back hits the door, before finally letting his hands roam around your body completely. As he does this, you can feel the towel beginning to slip and just as it hits the point of almost showing off everything you’ve got, you come back to your senses.

“Little impatient and touchy, yeah?” You mutter against his lips and use your hands to reposition the towel.

“When it comes to you? Always.” He responds before placing a final peck to your already swelling mouth and leaning back a little bit. His right-hand drops from where it’s placed on your hip and uses moves it to lean against the door as he continues to look down at you intensely. “You gonna tell me what that phone call was about, love? Or am I going to have to guess?”

“I-,” you begin, but stop as you try to think of what to even say. “I don’t even know H, I’m so confused.”

“Ok, well why don’t you start off by telling me what happened today then, yeah?” There’s no point in protesting, so with a simple nod, you allow Harry to lead you back over to the bed and tell him about everything that happened with Gemma.

Once you’re done telling him everything that’s happened today, he remains silent and seems to be avoiding your gaze. “Harry?”

“So that’s what you meant by needing to think things over,” he states and keeps his eyes adverted from yours. You don’t answer, but rather just nod your head; which results in him finally looking at you. “What is there to think about Y/N?”

“What- did you not listen to anything I just told you?”

“Yes, I did. Quite thoroughly actually, and the only problem I see is one you’re making bub. Gemma is an adult. She’s my sister, and I value her opinion, but she does not get to say who I can and can’t have a relationship with. I also can’t help but think that there was probably some miscommunication and the two of you let this be blown out of proportion rather than actually talking it out like you both tend to do.”

It catches you off guard just how well he really does know your friendship with his sister, but that doesn’t prevent the scoff that still leaves your mouth in defense. “It’s really not that easy, Harry.”

“Yes, it is!” He argues right back, and you start feeling a little annoyed by his stubbornness.

“I don’t want to lose my best friend, Harry!”

“Who says you’re losing anyone? Y/N, if what you want is to be with me… that’s all there is to it.”

“I’m not sure what I want, alright! Maybe all I really want is space!” A small gasp follows your words as soon as they leave your mouth, and the two of you are left in silent shock. You regret your words immediately and wish you could take them back because that is the last thing you want, especially when it comes to Harry. “H, I-.”

A small defeated sigh leaves his mouth and cuts you off before you can continue, causing a slight ache to form in your chest as he looks at you with hurt written across his features. You watch as he closes his and takes a deep breath before slowly standing up from the mattress. “Ok. If space is what you want, I’ll be on my way.”

“Harry, I didn’t mean that. I just-.”

“You’re confused.” He finishes for you, and you feel tears beginning to prick at your eyes again. “I am too right now. Maybe this whole space thing is actually what we both need.”

“No, I-I wasn’t thinking. Harry, I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m still trying to figure everything out when it comes to us. I, I wish I knew the right thing to say right now.”

“Me too,” he responds and looks away from you to the door. “Didn’t think there was anything to ‘figure’ anything out when it came to us, but I’ll leave you to it. Give me a call when you find out what it is you do want Y/N because clearly, this isn’t it.”

He doesn’t say anything else as he makes the few steps across the room to the door and opens it. The tears are fully streaming down your face as he looks back at you with an unreadable expression, and silently turns on his heel before disappearing back out into the hallway; leaving you a trembling, sobbing mess with what’s left of the broken heart he didn’t take with him when he walked out that door.

219 notes · View notes

theydontknowaboutusimagines · 5 years

Text

Outside the Rain - Harry Styles Series (Part 6)

Part 5

A few weeks had passed since your date with Harry and the last time you had sen him in person. Things were a bit different between the two of you and you weren’t sure what was going on. Everything was in limbo. Neither of you had really expressed where either of you wanted to go from the date... and the kiss.

God, the kiss. That kiss.

You couldn’t get it out of your head. You could still feel his lips pressed against yours. The smell of his cologne mixing with the fresh breeze. You wish you could go back to that night, but you were currently in the studio instead.

“Heellloo, Y/N,” the producer, Andrea, waved his hand in front of your face.

“Oh, what? Sorry,” you blushed.

“What’s up with you?” She asked.

“Oh, nothing, nothing, I’m just uh... out of it today,” you said looking back at the notes you had made on a new song.

“Want to talk about it?” She asked.

You sighed putting a strand of hair behind your ear, “I don’t know.”

“Well, if you want to talk, I’m here,” she smiled.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “And it’s not that I don’t want to talk about it, it’s more of, I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling.”

“Do you know what’s got you feeling this way?” She asked.

You nodded, “I’ve been um... seeing someone and talking to them for the last few weeks.”

“Oh! That’s excited! I didn’t know you were dating someone,” she said.

“Well, technically we’ve only been on one date,” you stated. “But we’ve been spending loads of time together and chatting on the phone and everything. And it’s obvious there’s something going on between us, but we still haven’t really had that talk yet.”

“Ah, so neither of you have really stated where you want whatever it is that you two are doing to go?” she asked.

“Exactly. Part of me wants this to be more, but then another part of me is worried about it actually working and if it’s just better to be where we are because it works,” you said.

“Or you’re just trying to save yourself from getting hurt again,” she said. “So, you’re keeping yourself behind this wall.”

“I’m not hiding behind a wall,” you defended. “I’m an open book.”

“The book may be open, but the heart is locked away,” she said.

Harry was at his final fitting prior to the Met Gala. He was feeling both nervous and excited for what was to come. Part of him wanted to just get it all over with, but the other part knew he needed to savor the moment.

“So, are you bringing a date to the event?” Alessandro asked.

“Other than you?” Harry joked. “Not really.”

“But there is someone he’s seeing,” Harry Lambert butted in.

“And you haven’t said a word about it?” Alessandro asked.

“There’s not much to tell... exactly,” Harry mumbled. “We’re still in the getting to know each other stage.”

“They went on one date before he left to come here,” Harry stated. “Oh and they kissed, but they haven’t talked about what that means.”

Harry glared at the other Harry,” Remind me to never tell you anything ever again.”

“What? It’s not my fault that you’re being a stubborn fuck,” he stated. “I told you just call and talk to her about something other than the weather.”

“I was curious to how it was in LA compared to here,” Harry defended.

“There’s apps for that,” he said.

“She coming to Met Gala?” Alessandro asked.

“YES!” Harry L excitedly stated over Harry’s mumbled yes.

“Well, you don’t sound so happy about it,” Harry pointed out.

Harry sighed sitting down running his hands over his face, “I’m nervous about seeing her again. What if the reason she hasn’t brought up the date or the kiss is because she doesn’t want this to go further. It’s easier to avoid it over the phone or on text messages, but in real life, not so much.”

“Now, granted the Met isn’t the best place for that conversation, you’re still going to have to have it eventually, and in person is the better option. Or you could just be a miserable shit for the rest of your life,” he said. “Your choice.”

“That’s the best advice you have?” Harry asked. “Out of all the advice in the world and that’s what you go with?”

“Hey! it’s valid advice and the truth,” Harry said putting his hands up.

The night of the Met Gala was a little chaotic and weird. You were nervous about seeing Harry and wondered if it would be awkward or not. Yes, you two had spoken to each other and everything, but it wasn’t the same as seeing each other face to face. Especially, after the kiss.

What if the moment you saw him you just wanted to walk up to him and plant your lips against his?

Would you be able to ignore that feeling?

What if he came up to you and did the same?

Would you be okay with that?

The answer to those questions were Yes, No, and I don’t know. The problem with this whole thing was because you didn’t know what you wanted. Or that you did know exactly want you wanted, but weren’t sure if you willing to let yourself have it.

You were finishing up your makeup when your phone rang. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit disappointed that it wasn't Harry, but it was Stevie.

“Hey Stevie,” you smiled.

“Hey, Wild Heart, how’s it going?” she asked.

“It’s going,” you said. “I’m getting my makeup finished right now.”

“I bet you’re going to be lovely,” she smiled.

“Well, you’re a little bit of the inspiration behind it, so I hope I am,” you laughed.

“Are you going with Harry?” She asked.

Well, she didn’t exactly waste any time.

“Um, no,” you said.”I mean, he’s going to be there and so am I, but we’re not going together.”

“Interesting,” she said. “So, how is that going between the two of you. He told me you two went on a date, which is also interesting because you never told me.”

You blushed at that,” It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, it just... I don’t know. I didn’t really tell a lot of people.”

“And why is that?” She asked.

“Because I don’t know what this is or what I even want from it, so I figured the less people who knew the better,” you told her.

“Or you’re just trying to keep it hidden because you’re afraid if people know then it becomes real and then you have to deal with it,” she said.

“Why do you always do this?” You mumbled.

“Because even though you aren’t my child or even blood related to me, I see myself in you,” she stated. “Well, besides the whole drug addiction thing, but you know what I mean.”

“I do,” you sighed. “But honestly, this isn’t a good time for me to be in a relationship.”

“Why? Because you’re working in the studio or going on tour soon? Y/N, you’re in the fucking music business. That’s your job. Your life. If that’s the excuse that’s holding you back, then it’s never going to be the right time for you to be in a relationship,” she said. “Now, tell me what’s the real reason that’s holding you back.”

“I don’t know!” You groaned. “I don’t fucking know.”

“You do know, you’re just not willing to say it out loud,” she sighed. “Y/N, I know you’ve been hurt in the past and I know you’re worried about getting hurt again or falling head over fucking heels for someone only for them to break you into a million pieces. However, life is about taking risks. Life is about jumping in head first and worrying about all the other shit first. If we all sat back and worried about all the what if’s and bad shit that could happen to us, we’d never live our lives. Hell, I wouldn’t be inducted into the fucking Rock N Roll Hall of Fame if I didn’t take risks and you sure as hell wouldn’t be where you are in your life and career had you not taken the risk to become an artist.”

You sighed knowing she was once again right.

“And Harry is a great guy, Y/N. He’s pretty much my adopted son, which could technically be a little weird since you’re my Goddaughter, but since we’re not all related it’s good. Anyway, if you have feelings for him, true feelings for him, then let it be known and just see where it goes. It may not work out in the end, but at least you gave it a shot. But then again, it could work out and you two could be the person you spend the rest of your lives with. Either way you won’t know until you fucking try,” she said.

“I know, I know. You’re right,” you groaned. “I’ll talk to him tonight.”

“That’s my girl,” she said. “I expect a full report tomorrow. Just make sure you leave out any uh.. intimate details that may happen. He is like my son after all.”

“Oh my god,” you rolled your eyes.

The moment Harry arrived at the Pink Carpet, his nerves had gone away. He was walking the carpet, posing for pictures, stopping for a brief interview, etc. However, as soon as you caught his eye, butterflies rushed to his stomach.

You were wearing a leather and lacy mid-thigh skirt with velvet black sparkly boots. Your top was a black, lacy corset paired with an off the shoulder black top underneath and long, black, lacy, see through, shawl with bell sleeves that lead into a huge, long train behind you. And then you also wearing Stevie’s top hat.

He couldn’t help, but smile when he saw you. And he also tried to not make it so obvious that he was looking at you, but it was harder than he thought. You were also making small eye contact with him, feeling yourself blush.

When you walked into the venue, Harry and the other co-chairs were there to greet you. When you got to Harry, you both were a little awkward and nervous.

“You uh... you look lovely,” Harry said rocking back and forth on his feet.

“So, do you,” you smiled.

“Thank you for coming. I hope you have a great time,” he coughed.

“I’m sure I will,” you said. ‘Um, if you... if you have a chance tonight, would you want to maybe... talk?”

Harry perked up at this, “Yes! I mean, I would love to.”

“Great, just um... find me when you can, alright?” You smiled.

He nodded giving your hand a quick squeeze before you moved on.

Throughout the night, you mingled and snacked with the other guests. No matter where you were, you would always been on the lookout for Harry. It had been well into the night and he still hadn’t approached you. What if he was avoiding you? What if he was purposely staying away because he didn’t want to talk?

Yes, this probably wasn’t the best night or right place to have the discussion, but you didn’t exactly mean for it to happen there. Just at some point in the night. As the night went on, you started feeling exhausted. Your feet were killing you and when you saw Harry downing another drink and talking to his ex, you declared any sort of conversation that night a lost cause.

You ended up calling for a driver to take you back to your hotel. You made your way for the door, when you caught eyes with Harry. He quickly walked towards, weaving his way through the crowd of people.

“Y/N! Are you leaving?” He asked.

You nodded, “Yeah, I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“But we haven’t talked yet,” he sighed.

“It’s okay. You’re busy and this is your big night,” you said.

“What hotel are you staying at? I could stop by...” he said.

“Harry, don’t worry about it. Go and be with your friends. I’m fine,” you said forcing a bit of a smile.

“Are you sure?” He sighed.

“I’m sure,” you nodded.

He sighed, “Call me tomorrow and maybe we could get lunch or something?”

“Yeah, sure,” you nodded. “I’ll talk to you later.”

You gave him a small wave before walking towards the door, leaving him watching you walk away.

I have a HUGE moment coming the next update!!!!!

#One Direction Imagines #Harry Styles Imagines #Outside the Rain

90 notes · View notes