genji didn’t go out with the express intention of getting drunk off of his ass. it just usually happened that way. by all intents and purposes, genji went out to have a good time, meet people, and even sometimes accomplish work for the clan that hanzo entrusted him with. so, needless to say, tonight genji definitely hadn’t gone out with the intention of getting drunk and starting a fight in the bar he’d been drinking in.
it just kind of happened that way.
luckily he hadn’t be out in the town all by his lonesome this time, and he’d managed to scrape by without suffering too much in the hands of those that he’d somehow angered. never let it be said that genji couldn’t stand up for himself in a fight, but when he was definitely-very-tipsy and the guys throwing punches at him were definitely-very-not, he considered himself lucky to only be griping about a potentially broken nose and bloodied knuckles.
the shiamda name didn’t carry as much weight here in this city as genji was used to, but it was more than enough to expedite his wait in the hospital’s waiting room before he was called back to be seen to. the male nurse escorting him didn’t seem to be very impressed by genji or the not-very-subtle hints he dropped the entire way to his room, but he tells himself that it’s just a result of the tissues stuffed up both of his nostrils to keep the blood from running down his face.
genji could only imagine what hanzo would say this time.
James returned home from a trip with his family to find a letter waiting for him. It wasn’t a letter he ever wanted to have to read, and it didn’t seem to fit his mood after the time he had spent laughing and enjoying with his children and grandchildren.
Thomas was sick. James had been hesitant to leave for so long, and now he didn’t think he could regret it any more than he was. Thomas hadn’t been the same since Martha had passed away. Days would go by where he wouldn’t leave his room, much less talk to James. Neither of them was handling the change well, not that they would admit it. Even now, the letter wasn’t even from Thomas himself. It was from Patsy. Either he couldn’t tell James, or he wouldn’t admit to himself that he was as sick as he was. Whatever it was, he shouldn’t have let his daughter give that kind of news.
Monticello was still a day’s worth of travel away and it was to be taken alone. Dolly knew how serious it was, as well as the fact that James and Thomas were private people who didn’t need a crowd. It would have been a different story if James’s health weren’t better than it had been for as long as anyone could remember. Everyone was surprised. They knew a break would help, but not nearly to the degree it had, and the letter didn’t seem to affect his health at all. Normally the smallest thing would send him into fits.
James left early in the morning after a long, sleepless night. He knew how this trip would end and he had no intention of making it out to be something else. He and Thomas were old men. They’d lived their lives. They’d helped to bring a nation into existence. James thought maybe this would comfort him or make it easier somehow, but it didn’t. He was going to lose someone who had been a close friend through his adult life. There was no way for James to find comfort. There was no way to find comfort in losing the man his children considered to be their uncle. The man who was constantly there for him. The man who had been his world for years before Dolly.
James must have fallen asleep at some point along the way. When he woke up, he sat in the carriage for a long while. Maybe this would push back the inevitable. That thought didn’t last long. James slowly climbed out and up to the front door, knocking softly. The door opened silently and he was greeted by Patsy.
“Uncle Jemmy,” she embraced him warmly. “It’s been too long.”
“I only wish we’d been reunited under better circumstances,” James kissed Patsy’s cheek. She nodded and pulled James inside, shutting the door as quietly as she had opened it.
“He’s upstairs. He wanted to be alone, but I’m sure he’ll make an exception for you, Uncle. Would you like a drink, first? I can have someone make one up for you if you’d like,” Patsy offered.
James shook his head and glanced up the stairs. “Alcohol has agreed with me less and less as the years have gone, and I’d like to have my wits about me for this, but thank you, dear. I think I will go see him now if that’s alright,” he said, almost asking for permission.
“Of course,” Patsy took James’ hand and helped him up the stairs. It hadn’t ever seemed like there were so many steps before. Maybe that was because he hadn’t been climbing the stairs to greet death. Or, well, someone who might as well be death.
Once they made it upstairs and to Thomas’s room, James squeezed Patsy’s hand before she could knock on the door. He didn’t want to see Thomas anymore. Not under these circumstances. This isn’t how he wanted to remember him. He didn’t want to remember him sick and dying.
“You don’t have to do this right now if you don’t wish to, Uncle,” Patsy murmured.
“No, no. I don’t think I should wait,” James let go of her hand and knocked on the door himself. “Thomas?”
A weak cough was the only response. Patsy opened the door for James and he walked in, shutting the door behind him. He hovered close to the door, straining to see Thomas, not wanting to move closer. Somehow moving closer would just cement that this was real. James wanted nothing more than for this to not be real. For this to be something that he was dreaming. Some kind of joke.
“Jemmy,” Thomas smiled tiredly. “Come sit, won’t you?”
James waited a minute before he moved to sit in the chair next to Thomas’s bed. Somehow Thomas looked even smaller than James. That had never happened. James hated it. Thomas was supposed to be big and strong and scary despite his fear of too many people. He just had that kind of energy about him. James didn’t need it, and it took Thomas a while to figure that out, which normally would have bothered James. But Thomas was different. Thomas was always different.
“How do I look?” Thomas reached for James’ hand.
“You’ve looked better, I’m afraid,” James laced their fingers together and stared at their hands. “How do you feel?”
“Better than you have felt even once in your entire life, old man,” Thomas laughed, but laughter soon dissolved into coughing. Each cough brought a wince, each wince brought a pained look that twisted Thomas’s face in a way that James had never seen.
“Should I have Patsy call for a do-”
Thomas cut James off. “No more doctors. You know as well as I do that there is nothing they could do, anyway. There is no reason to think that anyone can hold off the inevitable,” he insisted. “I just want to talk. We haven’t seen each other in a long while.”
“What- what do you want to talk about?” James stammered. There is no reason to think that anyone can hold off the inevitable.
“How was your trip? How was your family?” Thomas pulled James’ hand against his lips. “How are you?”
James couldn’t keep from making a bewildered, almost angry face. “How am I? I’m here to see- I’m here to see you die, Thomas. How do you think I am?”
“I would have sent for you sooner, but you needed that break. You look well, for an old man,” Thomas squeezed James’ hand.
“I would have much preferred to be here with you and you know it,” James said, his voice breaking as he began to cry. “More than anything. I have the rest of my life for breaks.”
“We both know how short that can be. I didn’t want to take that kind of precious time away from you. We’ve had our fair share of precious moments,” Thomas smiled softly. He reached up with his free hand to wipe James’ cheeks. “No more on this matter. The past is in the past and there is nothing either of us can do to change it. As much as we may want to.”
James nodded. “May I join you?”
“You know that you don’t have to ask,” Thomas shifted over to the side to give James more room.
James moved up onto the bed and pulled Thomas against him. “We haven’t done this in a long while,” he laced their fingers back together as he spoke.
“No. Not for a long while,” Thomas rested his head against James’ shoulder. The two sat in silence. Nothing needed to be said. They’d said everything that they needed to say to each other years ago. All that was needed was for them to be with each other one last time. After a long while, Thomas grew completely still.
“I love you, Thomas Jefferson,” James whispered, just barely keeping back a sob. The inevitable had come. But he had one last tiny infinity where it seemed that maybe the two of them could hold it off.
It was a long while before James got up, laid Thomas back down, and went to find Patsy.
Characters: Baekhyun x You Summary: You try your best to make it up to him, but he
seems to really have moved on. Do you still keep trying, or give up ? (BGM) A/N: It’s raining in my area >< it’s been raining, and
so I’ve been listening to really sad music. And I got inspired to write with
some of the songs I’ve been listening to ^ ^ And one more thing;; there are
flashbacks;; I tried to write it as less confusing as possible;; but;; yea;; Oh
and;;;;;; I quit trying to shorten my stories;; it doesn’t work;; my one-shots
are at least 3000;; at most, who knows how much;;; and I’m sorry if you guys
think it’s too long;; but it’s the only way I can provide a shot without
thinking it’s trash;; so bear with me;; you don’t have to if you don’t want
to;; Well then, enjoy ^ ^ (5.11.2016 a/n update;; this is a real piece of shit now that I read it;; but since I still wrote it;; yea;; 5.15.2016 a/n update #2;; SIKE !! YOU GUYS THOUGHT I HAD NO FICS FOR YOU RIGHT ? PFFF I had one… sorry;; it’s shit though;;;) Word Count: 6400
I’m going to miss Isak. He was my favorite character and now his season is going to be over. We will no longer see his and Even’s story close up anymore. Sure, they live their happy ending, right there in their universe, but we’ll never get to see their little tiny infinity. The show will continue, and we’ll catch glimpses of them here and there for a few seconds, but we’ll never see them alone, just them anymore. I’m seriously going to miss Isak and Even. Isak learned from his mistakes and all I want is to see him more in the light, even though that’s not that possible anymore since he’s over. And Even, I want to know more about his disorder. I mean there’s nothing more to show, we know bipolar disorder and what it does, but it’d be nice to see how it affects everyone.
I just wanna say even though I hate them…
Goodbye, Isak Valtersen. Thank you for the beautiful love story and thank you for teaching me about things I didn’t know and how to be a better person. Thanks for the memories. Thanks for your awkwardness and your goofiness. Thanks for your ideas and your imaginations.
Have fun in your little infinity. In all the universes in the world, you and Even end up together, remember that.
Yoooo! I finally hit 500 followers, so I’ve decided to do my first follow forever! THANK YOU guys so much for helping me get this far. I’ve made so many awesome friends and acquaintances here within the relatively short time frame I’ve been on this site, and it’s friends like you that help make this experience all the more worthwhile. I started off on here not knowing a thing about graphics and blogging, but since them I have come a long ways. Thank you all again!!!
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I walked on a sidewalk of halogen reflections. The landscape of suburbs held in the perfect stasis of heavy drizzle. Every house a silent, empty backdrop of my evening’s stage.
I could have been walking for minutes. Or hours. It all bled together in a seamless smudge of distance and time.
The rainfall tasted of aluminum. There was no wind. The petrichor had fled back into the gutters long ago.
The only companion in loneliness was tiny, wan light of a sickly, yellowish screen. A single name highlighted, behind a tiny infinity of text. Cupped in my hands as though it would speak words that would save my life.