#and so i go off queue to EAT LUNCH and IMMEDIATELY i get yelled at to 'please go back on queue and answer calls we have callers waiting 🥰'

[pricegotmedickmatized]

worst day at work everrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr starting a go fund me to turn myself into a 2 dimensional art form to live inside the COD games forever

[neverdoingmuch]

Wangxian prompt: They see each other constantly. Like, maybe they're neighbors, or is a "my kid's teacher" situation. Maybe they meet at the bus stop, or work in the same company but different offices. So they're aware of each other and they exchange glances, maybe little inside-joke smiles about things they both notice. They see each other being brave, competent, kind, so so handsome. And when they actually talk to each other months later the first thing they say is "Marry me" and "Yes"

ooh!! this sounds like a lot of fun, i love it so much. i think office workers would be the best bc then we can contrast the banality of the rest of their lives to the quirkiness of their relationship so to speak.

okay so it all started when lwj decided that he wanted to eat breakfast on his apartment balcony

he takes his bowl and goes to sit in the chair outside and he’s prepared to just enjoy the cool morning air but when he looks up he sees a man sitting on the balcony exactly opposite his

wwx, by some strange luck, has the apartment across the street, and always goes outside to try and wake up bc he is not a morning person at all and the 9-5 job is killer for someone who likes to go to sleep at like three in the morning

anyway, lwj looks up and sees this kinda cute guy just sitting on the floor miserably blinking at the rising sun and is like oh weird and tries not to stare too much

but after that first time lwj sees him, he starts seeing mystery balcony dude everywhere, like everywhere and no amount of not staring is gonna save him

he goes down to his favourite cafe to get a cup of tea after breakfast and while he’s enjoying his tea and reading the newspaper he hears someone laugh loudly and glances over to the muffin display to see balcony man chatting with one of the staff as he orders his own coffee 

balcony man must have noticed his attention because he looks over and for a moment he looks confused but then he’s smiling brightly at lwj and it’s this absolutely amazing smile and he’s even hotter when he’s not sitting in a ratty t-shirt across the street and lwj panics, chugs the rest of his tea, and immediately leaves

he ends up arriving at the train station fifteen minutes early and is stuck awkwardly waiting while avoiding the grandma who likes showing men pictures of her granddaughter who is very beautiful and very single apparently

the train arrives and lwj gets on, finds a seat and pulls out his phone to respond to emails. then, just as the doors are about to shut, who should rush in but balcony man

he’s kinda sweaty and red but the guy makes it look good and he ends up sitting down a few metres from lwj, not that lwj notices because he’s very busy responding to his emails about how one of the teams in sales is having difficulties with one of their projects, so busy that he spends the next thirty minutes staring at the email unable to get past the second line

lwj and wwx end up getting off at the same stop and to lwj’s absolute horror they end up going to the same building

lwj tries to do the thing where you speedwalk past the person so they don’t think you’re following them but then wwx did the same thing to him so they end up arriving at the same time

they get in the elevator together, lwj near the door off to the left and balcony man in the far corner, leaning against the wall and looking down at his shoes

it’s kind of awkward but thankfully wwx gets off at the fifteenth floor - software design and tech support or something while lwj gets off at the twentieth floor - sales maybe?

he doesn’t see the man again until the end of the work day when they get into the elevator at the same time and go back down. they’re the only two people in there bc they’re working late or the stars aligned or something

and that’s just the first day. after that, every day the same thing happens and they keep seeing each other as they’re going to and from work. 

but also lwj goes to do the grocery shopping and when he’s paying wwx is in the next line across and when he goes to buy new strings for his guqin wwx is already in the store buying a new mouthpiece for his dizi

this goes on for a few weeks and then one morning, while wwx is trying to shock his system into waking up and lwj is just enjoying breakfast, they hear familiar shouting: the couple downstairs is breaking up again

lwj rolls his eyes, aware that come next week they’ll be dating again, and just blocks it out when the boyfriend comes stumbling out of the building with his shirt half on and the girlfriend still yelling

he looks across the street to see what balcony man thinks of it all and sees that he’s mouthing along to the argument (it really is exactly the same speech every time but it’s incredible that he’s memorised it). lwj snorts. it’s unseemly and rude but balcony man is over there acting out the break up as well as mouthing along and it’s the funniest thing lwj’s seen all week.

wwx notices him laugh and decides to wave at him. lwj tentatively waves back and with that the magic of their relationship sets in

now when lwj goes to the cafe in the morning wwx will look around the store until he spots lwj and wave at him, and lwj will lift his mug up in greeting which always make wwx laugh

then when they get on the train, they always get seats opposite each other and while they never actually say anything, sometimes lwj will glance over to see wwx sneaking a look at him. they both blush and look away but moments later they’re doing it again

when they walk to work, lwj crosses the street so they can walk at the same pace and not have to actually be right next to each other and despite having to cross back over, wwx is always still waiting to catch the elevator with him. 

now when they go up, they still don’t talk to each other but wwx always hums and lwj taps along with whatever tune he’s picked. 

same thing when they go back down in the evening and catch the train back

over time it starts to become more than just staring and smiling, now when the couple downstairs breaks up, wwx will hold up like three fingers and lwj understands that balcony man thinks they’ll get back together within three days

(wwx’s always right btw)

when they go to the cafe lwj will send wwx a thumbs down if the sports mum with eight kids gets in queue first and wwx will always make hearts with his hands whenever the baristas start flirting. 

when they get in the train and hear the angry businessmen argue they’re sitting there making funny faces at each other,, well wwx does and lwj just tries to keep his face blank. he usually succeeds but sometimes he smiles and wwx will always do a little victory wiggle which is honestly so cute lwj is dying

the elevator? they don’t even have to say anything. whenever a coworker they don’t like hops in they just find subtle ways to explain why they don’t like them and how

the best time was when lwj saw su she get in and immediately pulled a face like he sucked a lemon and had to try and mime “he always takes really long lunches and is really bad at sales but we can’t get rid of him because he’d whine too much and no one wants to put up with that” but he’s lwj and doesn’t really do miming. in contrast, when wen chao gets in wwx just holds up his thumb and pointer finger like he’s measuring something, and holds them only a few centimetres apart. 

they both get really good at reading each other like that

when they catch the train back home it’s always really late so lwj ends up reading a book while wwx sketches and, just as lwj always holds up his books so wwx can see the cover, wwx will show lwj whatever he’s drawn

at one point in time lwj comes home and sees a stray kitten hiding in a box near the entrance to his building but he can’t take it in bc of his rabbit so instead he goes out onto his balcony and just points straight down and holds up a cardboard box he has in his own apartment

without even hesitating wwx goes downstairs and crosses the street, still dressed in his pyjamas, and takes the kitten home. 

lwj kinda expected wwx to take the kitten to a shelter or something but within a month their morning routine changes to allow a kitten to climb all over wwx as he tries to wake up and it’s ridiculously adorable but also lwj is sitting there in absolute awe of how good balcony man is to just take in a stray like that 

there’s probably a few other scenes, like wwx and lwj going out to a dinner with their teams and they get seated at nearby tables and end up sending each other commiserating smiles whenever the conversation gets particularly dull and the time when lwj gets caught by the well-meaning grandma who always tries to set people up with her granddaughter on the train and he taps out sos in morse code and wwx just replies rip and stares out the window for the rest of the trip 

anyway this is getting a bit long so im going to say jump forward a year (doesn’t have to be a year i guess). they’re still enjoying this whole thing they’ve got going on and they know each other so well that when lwj sees wwx some mornings he knows to go to the cafe early and order an extra strong coffee for wwx and wwx will sometimes sketch pictures of rabbits when lwj seems a bit annoyed after work

(wwx will fold them into paper aeroplanes and throw them across the train to lwj and lwj always takes them home and flattens them back out and then shows them to his rabbit before before putting them up on the fridge)

one day the trains break down and they’re stuck waiting at the station in the morning and for once lwj feels genuinely sad that he might not get to work on time. like work is whatever but he doesn’t want to miss out on the half an hour on the train with balcony man and the way they speedwalk to see who can get to the office first and the awkward waiting outside the elevators where wwx bounces up and down and lwj taps out a rhythm against his thigh until wwx notices and starts humming along

but then he notices wwx walking over to him. he seems kinda nervous, hesitating at first but he puts on a confident smile and saunters over and lwj is panicking because they haven’t done this before and he doesn’t know what to do

wwx opens his mouth - he’s going to make the first move and ask out his mystery man, but then lwj takes one look at wwx, who’s standing right next to him and it feels different to all the other times they’ve been together, and he panics

wwx barely manages to open his mouth to say good morning when lwj blurts out will you marry me?

wwx blinks, blushes bright red, and immediately goes yes! (it’s a bit too loud and people around them turn to stare but neither of them notice)

lwj immediately whips out his phone and sends in an email saying that he’s taking a sick day and after he sends it off, he slips his phone back into his pocket, takes wwx’s hand in his and asks him what’s your name?

it takes wwx like fifteen minutes to stop laughing by which time they’re back at their cafe and this time, they both sit down at a table after ordering their drinks and it’s the baristas making hearts with their hands at them

[sinjinlover1]

Long Lost Partners

Summary - When Kaminari gets caught from cheating on the recent English test, he receives an unusual punishment from Present Mic and joins another student from class 1-B. The two hit it off but Kaminari can’t shake the feeling that he knows this individual. But from where? -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To say that Denki Kaminari was tired would be an understatement. He was absolutely wrecked, though partially was his own fault. This morning he swore off procrastination and walked into class proclaiming that he was a new and improved man. To be fair though, this was probably the three monster energy drinks he downed while running to school talking, not him.

"Nice man! You know it takes someone who is really manly to step up and take action so I'm proud of you." Kirishima slapped his back appraisingly.

Jirou only looked him down suspiciously. "You sure that's you talking?"

"Hey I'm serious! The second I get an assignment I'll do it. I won't leave it off to the last day like last night ever again." Denki shivered at the thought of what went down this previous night. He was up until four am this morning trying to crank out the two weeks worth of homework that he had been piled up, which conveniently all had the same due date, today. Couldn't help but wonder if teachers planned to have the same due dates for work to make students' lives hell as he tried to complete his English homework.

Iida butted in with a smile on his face while performing his routine robotic chops, "I praise you Kaminari for being an example to the class! It is unwise to leave assignments to the very last minute when you can give them the attention they require and get full marks." At this comment almost everyone in class 1-A turned to look at Kaminari who was wearing a smug smile.

"You hear that Sero?" Kaminari asked with a shit eating grin. He opened his arms wide open giving him a full view. "I think you need to look up to me now."

"You're so full of shit." Sero remarked at his gloating friend who was basking in the attention. This was all in good fun though. Sero and Kaminari had met this year and got along the best between anyone else in class. Sometimes even taking time to hang out after school or play some games online.

Sero didn't really plan on looking up to Kaminari as usually it was the opposite way around. When Sero logged on last night to play a game, he had expected Kaminari to be on as he usually was, but instead was met with a text message saying, "can't tonight. doing this bitch ass English hw."

Sero knew that his friend had been procrastinating but when he opened Snapchat this morning he saw a whole new level of this bad habit. While going through Denki's private story he couldn't count the times Denki had filmed himself downing a whole monster energy drink. At around midnight he even filmed himself making what he called, 'The Acid Drink' which was a 20 oz. bottle of a mixture of coffee, Monster drinks, Kool Aid mix, Red Bull, and just pure granulated sugar. He even attempted to do shots of the 'Acid Drink' while workin on quadratic equations. Again, Sero didn't think it would be wise to follow in Kaminari's steps.

"Man how the hell are you going to stay up all day when all that sugar and caffeine crash?" Sero asked. He was sure his friend had come prepared and to be honest, he wanted to see what his plan was. And Kaminari's smile confirmed his suspicions as he pointed towards his bag.

"I've already thought ahead my friend. I left a bit early to go to the store to get some Red Bulls, candy and other stuff, which was a good idea considering there was a villain attack right near the shop. That would've been rough getting to school this morning."

Sero nodded in agreement. He left a bit too late this morning and he was actually caught up a bit in all the traffic and mess from the attack as well. Two people with quirks that enhanced their sizes went at it at 7:30 in the morning creating huge amounts of destruction.

"Yeah it was a pain in the ass trying to get through. Thank god I made it though. I don't think I can afford to be yelled at by Mr. Aizawa for being late again."

"It would kind of suck if one of my friends got expelled for showing up late to his class for the third time." Denki was now popping a couple smarties in his mouth before chewing it up. Sero then gave him a pointed look before Denki handed a couple over to his friend.

Right on que Mr. Aizawa walked into class for homeroom and thus began another uneventful day of learning, that is, until the end of English class.

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Hearing Present Mic speak was never a problem as that man never ceased shouting about anything. And that proved to be quite annoying in Denki's attempt to learn the English language. Well, that's at least what he blamed to be the cause of his current failing English grade.

Now, Denki Kaminari isn't the sharpest tool in the shed but that doesn't mean he is a total flop. He passed the UA entrance exam so that has to mean something, right? But when it comes to languages that is where he has never succeeded and doesn't think he ever will.

So today when Present Mic started class by asking for Denki to stay after class because, 'I have a few concerns about your English test," this really didn't come as a surprise. Even if it was expected, because there was no denying it, he bullshitted and cheated his way through that last test, that still didn't stop the sinking feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when he knew something was wrong.

He looked around the room as everyone once more stared at him like this morning, but he felt 3 pairs of eyes who looked at him knowingly. And those people would be none other than Hanta Sero, Eiji Kirishima and Mina Ashido.

Kaminari gave a cold look at Sero who also seemed to look like he was sweating in his seat as well, but Present Mic never said anything about him and started his lesson by screaming a song in English.

'That asshole isn't being called out but I am.? We both cheated on the same test using the same sheet yet Sero is the one who gets the clear? Jesus, I'm probably going to be chewed out by Present Mic which is way worse than Mr. Aizawa. Scratch that Mr. Aizawa is scarier than Mic but Mic is just so loud I think that makes up the difference between how annoying they are to be yelled at by.'

And so, by the time English class was coming to an end and lunch was near, Denki did not learn anything in that class as he spent it in his own inner monologue.

"And that's really the main difference between using singular and plural nouns listeners! See you all on Wednesday have a good lunch!" Present Mic concluded his lesson and gave Denki a lingering stare saying, 'don't start leaving yet.' Denki looked to all his friends as each left.

Mina gave him a quick nod and a wave before walking out.

Sero passed by snickering as he confirmed that he was in the clear and was safe.

And finally, Kirishima gave him a quick pat on the back before joining the rest of the gang outside the room.

And Bakugou, Denki didn't even see him leave but he assumed he just packed up and left as usual.

So now all that's left in the classroom was himself and Mic.

Denki slowly made his way up to Mics desk mustering up as much as a pleasant attitude as he could, while also praying his eardrums won't split if he gets too close to him. When arriving at the front of the classroom all he could peep out was, "What's up?"

'Woah that came out higher than expected.'

Present Mic propped his legs on his desk and crossed them before taking a deep breath. "Listen here listener,"

'How can I not listen if you're shouting constantly.'

"Do you know what being a true hero means?"

'Well I didn't expect that.'

"Yeah, it means risking your life to save other people right?" Kaminari wasn't exactly sure where this conversation was going but Present Mic sure got serious all of a sudden.

"I know what a pro hero does, but I am asking about a true hero here. Someone who does or takes actions that are heroic for others without the benefit from doing actions. Being a true hero means being honest," Present Mic consequently pulled out his recent English test and handed it back to Denki concluding, "and cheating is not honest."

'Oh so that's where he was going with that.' So Denki Kaminari took the test marked with a big '0' and took that as his queue to zone out. After years of practice he could say that he mastered the art of looking like he was paying attention, but really was somewhere else in his mind entirely. He wasn't sure if this was something to brag about though. Sometimes words slip in but if he focuses enough, he can totally tune them out and do something else. Like think about what he wants to do after this.

As Present Mic continued on about cheating and whatnot, Denki got more tired by the minute, wishing he was drowning himself in caffeine rather than Present Mic drowning him in words.

"So heroes aren't always the ones front and center taking care of the villians. Often these heroes are working behind the scenes and keeping society flowing. They are honest and handworkers who help their community."

Denki was now swaying from one foot to another getting even more bored with each passing second. Another thing about Present Mic which in his opinion makes him worse than Mr. Aizawa is that he doesn't get to the point immediately. Instead he makes elaborate discussions rather than just telling him what his punishment is like Mr. Aizawa.

"So for your punishment. Of course I will have you retake the test and we can set a date for that, but instead I have a better solution instead of suspending you for cheating. Because what does that teach you? Nothing! You know students can't learn much if..."

And Kaminari began to doze off waiting for Present Mic once more, to get to the point so he can eat. It probably would've been smarter to take his last Monster Energy before this class.

"...instead I'll have you working on your honesty through community service. I have a little group called 'Present Mic's Helping Hands' and it is full of students, like yourself, who also can improve upon their honesty or choose to help out instead of detention. I suppose you may have heard this on my radio show as I send out a line for people to call if they need help doing small services around the city." Present Mic beamed at his plan to Denki and even began to pull out a small binder that was sitting in the top drawer of his desk. Smiling even more, Present Mic beckoned Denki over as he went on about each of his services he did and photos that were taken.

Apparently that binder was just composed of photographs of Mic smiling with previous students who were all wearing matching and tacky bright yellow shirts. Some students smiled, while some looked like they wanted to leave at that very moment. There seemed to be a picture for every time they had a group of 2 or more to do a service project. Kaminari can't even guess how far back some of these pictures go.

"So I just have to do some community service for the rest of the week?"

"Right on listener! I'm so excited for you to help out and join our group along with another, though they've already tagged along once or twice before! I'm just going to have you two meet me at the front of the school at the end of the day! That is where I'll give our service assignment! Sounds good?" Present Mic concluded looking to see if there were any questions on the young teens face. With a simple nod to Kaminari's head, he sent him out to eat his lunch.

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As Kaminari approached the lunch table he saw that everyone was there waiting for him to ask what happened, and Kaminari explained it all. How he won't be able to play games for a whole week because he'll be stuck doing community services with some other person in Present Mics 'Helping Hands' group. He also brought out his last Monster Energy Drink which he has been saving for his lunch.

Sero snickered while finishing chewing his food, "Sucks to suck I guess." And at that Kaminari playfully jabbed him in the ribs making Sero slightly choke on his food. "What the hell dude? I thought we were going to at least get caught together but you get a freebie?" With that Sero only shrugged.

"Well at least you aren't suspended right? That could've been a lot worse. Like imagine if you got caught by Mr. Aizawa." Mina consoled while shuddering at the thought of Mr. Aizawas red eyes glaring into hers as he expelled her.

Kirishima decided to join in saying, "I think you should take this as a learning experience man." But before he could continue Kaminari cut him off saying, "You don't get to talk. I don't think you have ever had to cheat once in your life. And English comes easy to you for some reason. What did you do to get all smart?"

With that Kirishima shrugged his shoulders and turned to his friend, "I don't know being manly means being honest so cheating has never really been an option." Kaminari only stared at him with an annoyed face(because he knew he was right and probably won't try to cheat again) and went back to his complaining.

"This sucks. I really wanted to just take a nap when I got home. I hadn't planned on staying later so I didn't stack up on any energy drinks because the ones I'm having right now will last until the end of classes." He pointed to his empty Monster Energy drink before putting it upside down for emphasis.

As lunch was coming to an end more and more people began to get up and take care of their dishes and trash. The group followed suit and got up starting to walk to 5th period.

"You said that there's going to be one other person right? I don't know, just talk to them and try to get through it." Sero offered, trying to help his friend make the best of the situation he was stuck in.

Walking through the class door together Kaminari responded, "Yeah you're right, we'll see I guess."

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At the end of the day Kaminari changed out his shoes and made his way towards the front of the school where he noticed one other person standing and waiting where he was told to meet Mic.

'Probably the other person.'

Making his way towards them he started to get a clearer view on who would be joining him for the next week. And his first impression was not who he has been picturing at all. He thought this student would look like a total delinquent and fool around all the time but this person in front actually looked pretty put together. And also kind of hot.

"Hey I'm Denki Kaminari but you know you can call me Denki if you'd like." He flashed his best award winning smile waiting for his new partner for the week to respond. Denki began thinking maybe this won't be so bad after all.

"Hi I'm Y/N L/N and same you can call me Y/N I don't really care either way. Oh and I'm in class 1-B." You responded with a cherry smile. Denki didn't know a simple smile or laugh could make him feel warm and mushy inside. This was a foreign feeling.

"Oh for real? I'm in class 1-A." He said, but the sudden drop of your face meant that he needed to clarify. "I promise we're not like the rumors. At least not all of us." You knew what rumors he was talking about. A lot of class 1-B along with others from the student body tend to think that 1-A was just full of stuck up brats who think they are better than everyone else. And though Kaminari can think of a few students who fit into that rumor, he didn't think at least he was better than anyone else. It was quite obvious that he wasn't and the proof was that he was standing here with someone else who had cheated. Which brings up his next question.

"So did you get caught cheating too?" You shook your head quickly and let out a bit of a chuckle. Scratching the back of your neck as though you were embarrassed, you responded sheepishly,

"Well it's a bit of a long story,"

"Alright guys for one box of Pocky I'll do a backflip right off of Mics desk to my own seat." You exclaimed to your quiet class who were all patiently waiting for Present Mic to come. Everyone turned to you with eyes wide open.

Kendo was quick to shut this down. "Yeah, no you won't. I don't need you causing a scene. Besides Present Mic is going to be here any moment so we can just wait patiently. Save that for hero training." She advised. While her words were convincing, Tetsutetsu's were more after saying two simple words, "You're on."

Immediately getting up you could hear both the mixed interest and protests of your classmates as you began to make your way towards the front of the desk. With a quick peek out the front door and seeing nothing you quickly mounted on top of the desk and got situated.

"Y/N I'm serious you need to get down. Present Mic is going to come in and punish us all for your actions." You looked at Kendo questioningly. "Are we talking about the same teacher? 'Cause the Mic I know would cheer me on." She gave you a small glare in return preparing to get up from her own seat to stop you.

"Hey c'mon! Wouldn't it be cool if when I jumped, I landed in my seat the moment Mic gets here?" You chuckled along with a few others in the class at the thought of pretending nothing ever happened and that a student totally did not do a backflip off of his desk full of all his personal work, files, records, etc.

You raised your eyebrow and tried to figure out how to jump so you would land right in your seat. Kendo let out a tired sigh before continuing her protests. Ignoring her you finally got into position and ready to jump. The rest of the class, though excluding a few, were all watching intently, a few even chanting.

And so, taking your leap backwards, it would've been a perfect landing, if your shoelace hadn't got snagged between two drawers from when you were fixing your position. As you jumped back you pulled not only you, but Mics entire desk causing it to fall and contents to spill everywhere.

Thankfully Kendo dropped her hands giving up completely and got up to help you out along with others who went to see if you were all right. It sounded like you hit your head pretty hard. And right on cue Mic walked into the disaster of a room with his desk completely turned over. Records, papers, pens, files, clips, all of it was everywhere.

And it didn't take long to find the culprit behind this as they were lying on the classroom floor. No other words had to be said between you and Mic other than, "Did you bring your shirt?"

After hearing the story Denki was now laughing it up as you gave him pointed glares. You continued on saying, "The worst part was that I didn't even get any Pocky!"

Kaminari raised his eyebrows at you. "Well yeah obviously. You didn't stick the landing. Can you even do a flip?"

In return you gave him a mock-offended look, "Can you even do a flip? Of course I can do a flip asshole." But at that Kaminari shook his head laughing, "From that story I think it was clear that you can not do a flip."

Now at this comment, you took his words as a personal offence. "How dare you, first of all fuck you, and secondly watch this." As you took a stance and did a back flip right in front of Kaminari. As you landed you stretched your arms wide waiting for an applause which was shortly given by Kaminari. After that's when the two of you began to laugh.

In that very moment Kaminari can feel as though they've met this person before, he could've sworn he knows that laugh. It's so distinct, something he would never forget yet he can't place where he knows it in his mind.

Now it was your turn to question his own skills, "Can you even do a flip?" But before he could respond the two of you heard shouting from across the school yard near the busses.

"Listeners! Come meet me over here!" Present Mic shouted waving over for the two to come.

And the two did a quick jog over to where Present Mic had been waiting along with a small bus that Kaminari guessed was to drive you both to the service activity for the day.

"Sorry that took me a while, I had to dig out a new shirt for our new member of 'Present Mics Helping Hands!'" He shoved the shirt quickly to Kaminari. Kaminari knew the shirts were tacky and embarrassing from the photos, but the photos never showed the back. He couldn't believe he was going to need to wear this all week. While the front of the bright yellow shirt said, 'Present Mic's Helping Hands,' the back of the shirt had Mics face plastered all over the back as he was showing his hands.

"So what do you think? I designed them myself! Pretty sweet right? Feel free to wear it whenever you're outside school!" He quipped. The first thing Kaminari wanted to do was burn this shirt to the ground.

Present Mic then turned to you, "You have your shirt from last time?" And you gave him a thumbs up before pulling it out from your bag and showing it to the two. The same face was plastered on the back of his as well.

"Awesome! Now put them on over your uniforms and come in front of the bus to take a picture! It's tradition that every time we go out for a community service activity we take a picture to remember these fond memories!"

The two of you both put on your shirts and made your way to the front of the bus. Lining up the two of you stood right next to each other, though it looked a bit awkward considering the space between you two. So Mic went up and pushed you and Kaminari both close together before turning around to fit him in the selfie. Both of you brushed hands slightly as you felt a faint shock of electricity when touching him.

"Okay Listeners on three say, 'Present Mics Helping Hands,' okay?"

On three you both exclaimed 'Present Mics Helping Hands,' though it didn't sound as enthusiastic as Mics booming voice through his speakers. With a look at the photo he turned off his phone and shook Kaminari's hand.

"Welcome to the group and congratulations on being the third member to join this school year!" Kaminari shook his hand back weakly and turned to you. "I didn't know there was another member." he commented.

As the two of you both climbed the bus preparing to leave you answered his comment saying, "Yeah, we were actually the first members to join this year. It was a guy from class 3-A and I remember being so surprised that this guy had been "recruited" into the helping hands. I mean he was just so quiet and shy too. Honestly the conversations were pretty one sided so it's nice having someone to talk to for this week."

Kaminari let out a small oh as their journey to the service activity continued. Mic was upfront driving the bus signing some English song and next to him was Y/N who was currently on her phone playing a game.

Taking a closer look the game turned out to be none other than Minecraft.

"No way you play Minecraft?" He asked as Y/N turned to look at him.

"Oh yeah! I haven't played in such a long time though, but only recently I've started to play again because my little brother got really into it. But I used to play a lot when I was younger."

Kaminari felt a twinge and that feeling like he knew who this person was before even meeting them happened again. But still he couldn't place the feeling to exactly where he knew them.

"Same! I was obsessed when I was younger and would always log on. Hold up I'm going to pull up right now and I'll add you on my phone now and then later sometime we can play." Kaminari whipped out his phone and opened the app he hadn't touched in such a long time.

"Sounds good, I usually play on my PC anyways." You replied going back to building your home on the game.

Once Kaminari had loaded the game he asked you, "Okay what's your username?"

You paused for a moment before going to scratch the back of your neck. "Promise not to make fun, I made it when I was super young and I've been a bit lazy to change it..." Kaminari stared at you, prompting you to go on.

"It's 'green_penguin.lover33.'" You turned away embarrassedly.

Kaminari stopped immediately when he heard that name. It finally clicked. From the time he first heard them speak to the time they had first laughed there was no mistaking it. He finally knows where he remembers you from!

"No way, you're 'green_penguin.lover33?' I'm 'sparkguy8!' Holy shit I thought I knew you from somewhere."

"Oh my god." You exclaimed. You knew that name the very second it was spoken. That is because 'sparkguy8' was none other than your very first and only, Minecraft boyfriend.

This was insane. It's not everyday you meet your first Minecraft boyfriend in person especially after such a long time. Kaminari was the first to start talking after the reveal.

"Where on earth did you go? When you stopped showing up I was so lonely. I thought we had broken up! I still remember your last words which were, 'see you soon.' What the hell happened?" Kaminari was literally bouncing in his seat like a puppy after seeing its owner come home from work that day.

"Oh that's actually easy to explain." You told him how when you moved your console got lost and by the time you had gotten a new one you were already done playing Minecraft and instead you played other games and just over time forgot about it all. It was just only until recently when your little brother had gotten a gaming console he got Minecraft and has been bugging you about playing together.

After taking in all this information, Kaminari feels as though his life is finally complete. Not only did his Minecraft partner go to his school, they were actually a really cool person and fun to be around, and not only that but they were really attractive as well. For once he could actually thank Present Mic for this.

"I hope you know that as soon as we get home we are playing right?" He said determinedly.

"Of course," you replied. Shaking your head in confirmation as the two of you rode the bus to the service activity. You felt closer to Kaminari then you have ever been with another person before.

Apparently cleanup from this morning's villain fight is taking longer than expected and Mic had received a call from his help line. Time couldn't have flown any faster as the two of you picked up rubble and trash from the part of the city that had been destroyed. Whether it was talking about older memories of playing, music, newer games, food, all of it.

In the moment when you two were parting ways, and you watched as Kaminari walked off towards the sunset, you were positive that attempting to do a backflip off of your teacher's Present Mics desk was the best decision you've made in your life.

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well hopefully that wasn't too awful to read haha.

i finally got the motivation to write and i’m going to start pumping out a bunch of these denki x reader one shots so stay tuned!

i hope you all stay healthy and safe, love you <3

-sinjinlover1

[pretend-writer]

When I Look At You (Diego Hargreeves x reader)

Summary: Diego shares a moment with Y/N while he’s hanging out with her at the park. 

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x reader

Title Reference: When I Look At You x Miley Cyrus

Word Count: 940 words

Warning: fluff

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Diego POV

Y/N asked me if I was doing anything today, I told her nothing since the boxing gym was practically empty. She had invited me to go to the park to chill, maybe bring my siblings as well.

Allison and Vanya was very fond of her. They took Y/N in, probably loved her more than they love their own brothers. It was nice seeing my family bonding with a friend of mine.

Klaus and Luther didn't hesitate to come with, they loved Y/N as well. Five always acted as if he didn't really like Y/N but as soon as she walks through the front door the first person to greet her was him. I knew that he loved my best friend as well.

All of us walked a few blocks to meet Y/N at the State Park, where Luther brought some sandwiches to eat and lemonades to drink. For the first time in a lifetime, my brother did something smart.

We all sat down at the bench, talked and eat as we enjoyed each other's company. I always loved fighting criminals and putting them away but nothing beats hanging out with my favorite person.

After lunch, my siblings decided to play with a Frisbee Klaus brought. Of course they turned a friendly, relaxing moment of throwing a Frisbee at each other into a competitive "don't let Luther catch the Frisbee".

As much as I wanted to play against Luther, watching them play was much more entertaining. Five was practically everywhere using his powers, grabbing the Frisbee Vanya and Klaus threw as Luther struggled to catch up.

Y/N sat next to me a few minutes of playing Frisbee, 'I can't keep up with your siblings. I live for some competitiveness but even for me it's tiring.'

'Coming from me that lived with them my whole life, I get it.' I chuckled, 'It's funny if you watch though. That's the plus side.'

'Thank you for hanging out with me today. I didn't feel like being stuck at home all by myself.'

As I saw the smile on her face, I smiled back. 'I'm glad you invited me and my siblings here. It's been nice.'

'You can call me anytime too, you know? I'm always here if you need me Diego.'

I poked Y/N on her forehead, making a joke. 'Actually I deleted your number this morning.'

She giggled and started to tickle me on my side. 'I am your number one best friend! You better add that back on your phone.'

Trying to hold onto her arms, I started laughing. 'Now if you keep tickling me I might have to put you on my enemy list.'

She continued to tickle me, 'I'd like to see you try to stop me first!'

'Oh challenge accepted.' I grabbed her arm, pinning her down under me with no effort. It was quite cute that she thinks she can get away. 'I like how you think you're faster than me.'

Y/N laughed, trying to escape from my grip. 'That was easy, wasn't it?'

'Nothing is easy dealing with you and your craziness.' I joked, chuckling as I watch her still trying.

'Ah, I know you love my craziness.'

I didn't know why it was this moment that I felt something. Or maybe I always had some sort of feeling towards Y/N but now I finally realized it.

Why I loved her smile so much, how every time she came into the room I'd be happy no matter what. How every time I want to tell someone a big news about my day, the first person I want to share it is with Y/N. How every time she's sad about something, I just want to hug her forever and give her everything she deserves.

'Wow, I love you.'

I thought to myself as I stared at her giggling while I was still above her.

Her cute giggle immediately disappeared, her smile also fading away as she looked at me with concern. 'What?'

Furrowing my eyebrows, I questioned her back. 'What?'

'You just told her you love her, Diego.' Five replied back from behind us.

I turned around and saw all my siblings paused, the fun and competitive frisbee they were playing was on hold all because of the four words I accidentally blurted.

My cheeks felt warm, embarrassed about not only confessing this feeling I didn't even know I had to Y/N but also because all my siblings heard everything as well.

As I tried to get off from Y/N to walk away from all of this, she quickly grabbed me by my arm. 'This time, I'm faster than you.'

Y/N pulled me in, crashing my lips onto mine. I was confused, took me a while to comprehend the fact that she was kissing me.

'Kiss her back you fool.' Klaus yelled from behind.

We pulled away, Y/N instantly giggling about what Klaus had said to me. I turned around to my brother. 'If you don't shut up, I swear I'll hurt you!'

'I'm not scared of you! You're too distracted by love.' Klaus quickly ran away, knowing that I was going to chase after him.

'Well, Klaus just left. I guess that's your queue.' Y/N smiled.

'Damn right it is. I need to get him before he makes fun of me forever.' Her smile made me melt all over again, I couldn't help but kiss her.

I quickly pulled away, 'I'll be right back. Let me go get my brother first.'

She laughed, watching me run after Klaus. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

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taglist; @seiraswriting​

[lemonietrinket]

The Code ||| Doyoung x Barista!Reader

Part One

Summary: Doyoung has a thing for a barista at the best cafe in town, and after finding out the boss there is super strict, he counts his chances out. However, a bizarre set of events lead to an opening for someone clever enough to take it, and luckily his heart has chosen well. Genre: weak Fluff, Mystery? Drama? Angst Warning(s): Some bad language (1x sh*t, 1x f**k), rejection Word Count: 4271 AN: Thank you so much for 200 followers! I didn’t know what you guys wanted so I decided to write something I promised myself I would never write... a coffee shop au well its actually a cafe but yeah Non-IdolAU too

~~~

The sweet scent of vanilla and coffee engulfed Doyoung as soon as he opened the door of the Averley cafe. Joining the queue, he felt himself leaning round the numerous bodies, his eyes scouring for the main reason why he went out of his way to be a regular there. The cafe was hardly on his main route to work at all, and though it may serve the most divine tasting drinks this argument in itself came into conflict with how popular Averleys was, meaning it was thus always teaming with people—this day being no different. Searching the tables crowded with laughing students, a few families and other workers on their lunch breaks, he put his rocking on his heels to a stop as soon as he noticed he was doing it. The way that the thought of you could make him return to a schoolboy filled with sweet nerves unnerved him, to say the least. Still, within moments he was back at it again, his attention turning to the tills where you had to be serving by deduction alone. 

Moving further in the queue, he tried to subtly peer over to the furthest end of the counter after not finding you at the closest end. And, as one more person slipped through the throng with their beautifully fresh smoothie, he was finally able to rest his eyes on you. The low chatter of people died away like it always did when he saw you across the room, with your small but bright smile and swift hands. He thought he would never develop a crush on a barista, or any service worker for that matter, that he met during their shift. He was ninety-percent sure he’d chastised one of the others for even considering asking a waitress out, since it would only add to their troubles. And because that usually they entered a different mode when interacting with customers—their smiles were out of civility and politeness, for example, and it made the whole situation extremely difficult to navigate. And yet here he was, proving himself quite the hypocrite. 

However, every time he had the moral tussle of what to do with the jump of his heart he was brought back to the single encounter he’d had with you that could not be accounted for. 

It hadn’t been the first time he’d visited, far from it, but it was the first time he’d sat in and ordered a small snack to eat. It was late in the day, not overly near to closing time yet the cafe was surprisingly empty nevertheless. Taeyong had sat opposite him, describing the strange encounter he’d had with Donghyuck no doubt—as this was before his friend had even twigged his developing ‘butterflies’ as he called it, or whatever other saccharine fluff he imagined Doyoung was going through. The younger of the two had barely been listening, mind wandering in an effort to keep his eyes focused away from the counter instead. It was at that moment when their order arrived. Doyoung didn’t even have to look up to know who it was, seeing your fingers out of the corner of his eye as you handed Taeyong’s little muffin to him. He was struck with shame as soon as he acknowledged that he recognised you by your presence alone, but the encounter didn’t end there.

Handing him his drink and food you asked with a gentle lilt (that fit perfectly with the quiet golden sun of the afternoon—not that he would ever admit that to Taeyong) if there was anything else the two were after. It was a customary phrase, he knew, but he managed to glance upwards nonetheless to reply to you. 

“We’re good, thank you.” He didn’t like how monotone and disinterested his tone sounded.

He’d met your gaze and was abruptly put at a loss for words again. He couldn’t stop the words forming in his head, ‘so beautiful’. Your smile received a similar reaction too, not that you knew, as you offered him one. It dipped however as you broke his stare quickly and looked out of the crystal clear window. You seemed enraptured by the gold that basked the street, and it wasn’t long before Doyoung followed suit.

“Beautiful afternoon,” you began out of the blue, and it was Taeyong that responded—just as well, Doyoung wasn’t sure he would have even been able to. 

“Sure is! Driving in it must be a hell though.”

You nodded, and Doyoung turned back to look at you as you spoke. But this time you didn’t, not right away. You continued to look into the street and watch as a couple walked past, their laughter echoing through the concrete with their arms interlinked. “Just as well I don’t drive then.” It slowly dawned on him that there was a small sadness in your voice.

He spoke up without thinking about it, words spilling from his mouth robotically. “At least you’ll get to walk home in it then.”

Once again your attention settled onto him, and much akin to the first time he didn’t know what the hell to do about it. “Ah, it will be long gone by then,” you explained with a shake of your head, “my shift always does, unfortunately.”

Was this the point of no return for his feelings? Maybe some would argue so. It was certain to Doyoung though that in that moment he wanted you to see and walk in all the sun you wanted, and he hated that your job was timed just so you couldn’t even have a momentary relief.  He cut his mental tirade short, confused by just how quickly it all erupted.

Taeyong meanwhile piped up, a frown forming on his features when she wasn’t looking, both he and his friend discerning a similar train of thought, “Could you ask to maybe leave a bit early? It’s pretty empty.”

You clutched at your small tray and thanked him, “But, even though it’s quite empty now, doesn’t mean it won’t be later. Lots of office workers with their shifts finishing in only a little bit, you know?”

Doyoung’s eyes narrowed as he peered round your body to the counter. Seeing no one there he felt a surprisingly sly smile form on his lips. “Or you could just go outside real quick right now?”

You stared at him dumbfoundedly. “I-I can’t! I’m working!”

“Say you’re taking a call!” Taeyong suggested, smile bright.

You looked sheepish for a few moments, glancing over your shoulder before leaning in to them both. “I really want to, really! But I don’t have my phone. It’s in my bag and...”

Within seconds and with his subconscious yelling at him as to what he was doing, Doyoung procured his own phone and held it out to the person that made his heart pound, no less. “Use mine, just pretend.”

You glanced at him, then the phone, then out of the window and back to him. He couldn’t begin to imagine the confusion whirling through your head, because only a shade of it appeared in your widened eyes. 

“We’ll cover for you if anyone comes back,” he said with a shrug. He couldn’t believe how nonchalant was being. 

It wasn’t long before you accepted the phone with a laugh. You stifled it immediately, before ducking in one last time to whisper, “I promise I won’t touch it. And trust me, no one is coming back for a while.” And with that and a knowing look, you skipped off outside, the phone rather prematurely by your ear and your back turned to the glass so anyone who wasn’t aware would be none the wiser. 

The way you stepped into the sun and instantly relaxed in posture made pride swell in Doyoung’s already bursting heart. As you turned ever so slightly to face the light like a sunflower he caught the sight of a truly radiant smile. He was just satisfied to make you smile and feel even the slightest bit relieved of stress.  When you smiled, he let himself smile, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you has you trotted along the pavement with a stretch. Now that he thought about it, this was probably the moment that Taeyong realised something was up. He’d probably been looking at you with adoration written all over his face, and the realisation of such made it heat up even now.

He supposed that the memory of helping a girl who peculiarly just really wanted to take some time in the sun would have stuck with him in normal circumstances, but since it was you it carried so much more weight. Especially when you returned after a humble five minutes, his phone carefully in hand and still no other staff member in sight.

“Thank you so much!” you murmured as you came over to their tableside again. “I really needed that.” 

It was this part of the memory that struck him so clearly and made his breath hitch, no matter how many times he scoured over it in his head. 

You cradled his phone in your hands shyly, and through your words you only glanced up at them both. Your eyes were instead mainly focused upon the phone, and after a momentary silence, you turned to him more specifically. Doyoung had stiffened in his seat, praying you didn’t notice, just as you hoped he didn’t notice how your lips opened and closed, words failing to formulate.

“You’re very sweet,” you eventually said, hastily adding, “for letting me to use your phone,” before you handed it back simply. 

There was no accidental brush of fingers as you returned it to him, no meeting of eyes or any further discussion on the matter. Doyoung was just overwhelmed with an inclination that you hadn’t said all you’d wanted to say. It was this feeling that trickled into his plan now, and was his only real crest of hope. 

Sinking back into reality, he found he’d moved forward exponentially, and he could finally see you through the mildly thinned bundle of people.

You looked no different to that day two weeks ago, your eyes still glimmering and your gentler charisma easing small talk out of even the shyest of customers. On this occasion it was a young high school student that you were smiling at. She was reeling off a particularly specific order, he could tell by how she got her hands involved, but you nodded simply and began to prepare it. Doyoung was always in a state of awestruck when he saw you just doing your job. Averley’s was the best cafe in the city hands down but the finesse really showed in you. You seemed to have a genuine love for your job, or if it wasn’t that then it was definitely the determination to do it properly and to do it well. [maybe some more here]

He was brought back to reality by a shove on his back. Doyoung couldn’t hide the irritation in his face; the queue had moved forward, sure, but there was no need to get pushy. That expression quickly turned to one of masked guilt as he realised the person who had reminded him to nudge up was actually his closest friend, Taeyong. That he’d totally forgotten was there. He cursed his trembling heart.

He was squashed right into him because a burly man that could easily have been a bodybuilder right behind and taking up quite the portion of space in the frighteningly small shop and it meant neither were impressed by how out of it he was. 

“Stay with us, Romeo,” Taeyong teased, poking his ribcage and chuckling at the scowl that followed the judder he received. “You know I’m the least of your worries right? Look.” He jerked his head across the counter. Doyoung immediately glanced up, only to be admonished for not waiting and making it subtle, but nevertheless spotting the subject that easily made him despair. Because, despite the memory he held fondly of you and all his awe, it was still tarnished by how your boss was right there watching you and your colleagues at pretty much all times. You’d risen to perfection because you’d had to. He meanwhile hoped that the pay was worth it, and interrogated himself as to how he managed to not notice the stone-faced woman before.

She was right there! Stood rigid by the doorway into the kitchen, her service-smile on full display but her hawk eyes entrained on her workers at every stray moment. She made brief eye contact with him as her stare lifted away from his accidental crush and Doyoung felt himself wither in confidence.

“I mean, we thought Manager Park was bad but, get a load of that,” Taeyong murmured as soon as he’d looked away again.

Doyoung only frowned distastefully. “Don’t…” he trailed off, his little plan faltering in his head. He didn’t want to hear any more. He already was fully aware of the odds stacked against him anyway, ignoring Averleys’ strict work policy. He didn’t want to hear it so much that he opted to just zone out again from his friend’s words as Taeyong began to mention another bunch of potholes. He gazed over to you as you finished up the student’s drink.

To his surprise, he watched you take a glance over your shoulder towards your hawk of a boss. As soon as she was distracted—talking to an older man who she clearly knew and welcoming him to the shop from over the counter—you moved even more swiftly than you had done just moments before, slipping an extra chocolate swirl into the drink’s whipped cream and passing it over to the client with a quick finger to your lips.

“On the house,” you appeared to say, though that was what he assumed through lip reading, before—right in front of his eyes—you returned to being the perfect barista just as your manager returned her eyes to the front lines.

Caught up in his own head again about how kind you were, he didn’t register how the student in front was the only customer between him and you. And how it was his turn.

“Hi, what can I do you for?” 

Your voice brought him back again, though much more abruptly than before. He stood dumbly as he regained his wits, only really being able to focus upon the recognition in your eyes and the pretty curls of your lips and how your hair graced the slope of your—

The time was upon him, there would be plenty of time to stare in wonder later.  If he didn’t get a restraining order and booted from the cafe entirely, that is.

He nervously regarded the lurking boss in his peripheral and panicked, even though she wasn’t looking in his direction at that moment. This was going to go badly, he could feel it in his bones. He’d imagined all of those extra details, exaggerated her pauses, saw only what he wanted to see—

“Can I have a matcha tea, please?” his mouth said for him, and he was just grateful to not look as much of an idiot as he could have done.

“Of course, the usual,” you affirmed with a grin, turning your back to head to the machines. 

‘It’s now or never,’ he thought to himself carefully.

He took a deep breath, ignoring the barrage of thoughts that at that moment all argued that there would be plenty of other times that would follow, and cleared his throat.

“Hey, I don’t want to cause you any trouble,” he began, as soon as you turned round with his undecorated drink in hand. Seeing your widened eyes searching his he very nearly crumbled; somehow though, he persevered, “I was just wondering if I could get your number?”

You placed his drink onto the counter with an unusual weight, and in his moment of nerves Doyoung couldn’t decipher a single one of the mix of emotions that slipped through your polite facade. 

You blinked at him, your breath hitching in your throat as you ducked your head unsteadily towards the till. Ringing up his order with feather-light fingers, he realised—and with little surprise—that the result was not in the realms of success. 

Desperate to try and make you feel less uncomfortable and also save any mess that would follow, he scrambled to cover, “It’s ok if you don’t want to! It’s your decision, I would never...” It was at that moment that his eyes trailed back across to where your boss lurked, and he immediately regretted giving into the anxious urge to check because of course she was now watching like a hawk, a stony glare centred on his face.

Doyoung wanted the floor to swallow him whole. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you eventually said, a sigh in your voice and an apologetic expression on your features, “I... I can’t, it wouldn’t...”

The need to escape grew too heavy for him to bear, and he couldn’t stand the sight of the mess he’d caused—he hated how upset he’d made you, he hated how he may get you in trouble with your boss, and he hated how he knew that even after all this, he still wouldn’t be able to get over you for quite some time. He wished he didn’t fall as hard. 

“It’s ok, I’m sorry for causing you trouble,” he rushed, handing over probably what was way too much money and accepted his drink carefully, “keep the change, and... have a good day!”

And with that he scarpered, the gaze of everyone in the room burning into his already searing skin. He tried to keep himself cool, smiling politely at the elderly lady who passed through as he held the door open for her, before finally reaching the fresh air of the outside world. However he could still smell the vanilla over the air from behind him, and so he began to walk aimlessly away from the shop. He had a while left before he had to get to work, but with the embarrassment of before he was more than willing to head in strangely early.

Truth be told, his prevailing thoughts were surrounding the guilt he felt of causing you problems. He had kind of expected a rejection anyway, after all you didn’t know him and really neither did he know you. He wanted to learn more about you, yes, to explore why and how you enraptured his attentions so easily, and to see if there could be even more in store for you and him. But he never wanted to do that at your expense. You were a good worker, and he loathed the fact he may have just put your job on the line out of a single act of selfishness on his behalf. He should have took Taeyong’s words into more account, because that boss would never let anything slip through like that at the very least.

“Shit.”

His legs brought him to a public bench which he immediately perched on the edge of, too wracked with left over anxiety and guilt to even consider being comfortable. He really hoped he hadn’t walked too wildly far in his thought-riddled stupor, and he cursed again when he remembered how he’d basically abandoned Taeyong. 

Just as he was about to fish out his phone to text him, the man in question turned up, skipping down the pavement in some strange half-jog half-run.

“There you are!” he cried as he spotted him, coming to a shuffled stop in an effort to preserve his drink. “I called out to you in there but you blanked me.”

“I’m sorry,” Doyoung sighed, genuinely meaning it but more so to the image of you that preoccupied his head.

Plopping down on the cold wrung iron, Taeyong shuddered as he joined him on the bench. Sipping his drink as he analysed his friend’s frown gingerly, he finally spoke up, “Well, I don’t think you did too badly in the circumstances.”

Doyoung groaned, “Don’t, I really messed up. She’s going to lose her job because of me. I should have just left it—”

“That’s the garbage your spiral was fuelling this time?” he sputtered a laugh. “Ah, Doie you’re so melodramatic.”

“How am I being dramatic?! You said her boss was crazy!”

“She is, but she’s not stupid—your precious Juliet is a valuable asset at her job no doubt, so she wouldn’t fire her over something so trivial,” Taeyong explained, nodding as if it would help prove his point, “besides she followed workplace policy and carried on working perfectly pretty much right after so what can the woman say?”

Doyoung shook his head wordlessly. 

“Don’t give me that look, Doie, sometimes a bit of optimism doesn’t hurt,” he continued to explain despite the disbelief in his friend’s eyes, “you’ve got to have faith in the world sometimes, you know? Like...” Taeyong suddenly shifted across the bench, wincing as he left his warm spot, to murmur in Doyoung’s scarlet-tipped ear, “...how Juliet only began to pretend as if nothing happened after a few seconds of watching you leave with the saddest eyes I’ve seen not on you...!”

The younger of the two sighed, though he couldn’t deny the tiny spark that illuminated in his chest at the words. Maybe there was a chance you’d only said no because of your boss after all? Still, it remained that nothing could change either way. You’d turned him down, the respectful thing to do would be to keep his distance, and let you be. Besides, the situation was so sticky to manoeuvre, the likelihood of there being a happy ending were so slim.

Doyoung suddenly realised these words were the exact same ones he’d said to another. While wracking his brain for who he’d said them to, he nudged Taeyong away with his shoulder. “You do know that Romeo and Juliet die at the end, right?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s still a great love story.”

“Are you insinuating that this is going to end as catastrophically?”

“Would you rather Bella and Edward?”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

It was then that Doyoung remembered. It had been the new intern that had confided in his feelings for a waitress, Mark. Taeyong had referred to the two of them in the same way, and had encouraged him to be careful but maybe take the chance. It had seemed likely that she liked him back, to him, so it was worth a shot. And then he’d turned around and warned him about the dangers of it. 

“It would only add to her troubles,” he’d said, “working in the service industry is hard, and because of the emotion work required, it makes it really hard to identify if either side is being genuine. It can become so sticky to manoeuvre, and the likelihood of there being a happy ending is so slim.”

He hadn’t thought too much of how Mark’s youthful face fell at the time. The boy had nodded, and so he figured he understood and though it was painful, it was a lesson he had to learn. Now he himself was on the experiencing end, Doyoung regretted how easily he’d brushed him aside. He should have managed his tone more, at least tried to be comforting. 

Still, the situation didn’t change his mind. In fact, it just strengthened his argument. These things never ended well, and it was best to let them go.  Though that was the hard part. 

He took a sip of his matcha, and didn’t even wince at the heat as he stared at the wall of the shop opposite. Mark’s internship had finished a while ago, as he’d had a change of heart—or is parents had—and he’d been able to work in music like he’d wanted to.  Maybe it was time to check in and see how he was doing. 

.

Meanwhile, with your back turned to the winding queue, your head dipped into being completely vacant before flipping back to being filled with bundles of thoughts.  

You’d barely been able to get any words out over the sound of your heart that continued to beat impatiently. And the man’s request some time before remained lodged in your heart. Never had you thought you would be able to feel so elated and yet so torn apart at once.  It had meant he was as intrigued by you as you were by him, and deciding to pass over the considerations of whether he’d caught you staring, you decorated the hot chocolate with marshmallows and handed it to your colleague to serve. 

But there was no way you could have accepted his offer so blatantly like that. It made you wonder if he had been completely unaware of your predicament, and that in itself led to a spiral of doubt. Perhaps he wasn’t what you’d first thought and concluded. Maybe you’d made up the intelligent and witty glint in his eyes because it was what you were after. Maybe you’d misinterpreted his kindness and missed a number of red flags, just blinded by how damn beautiful he was.

“Hi, welcome to Averleys, what can I get for you?” Your voice was distant and so was your smile, you were too busy indulging yourself with the picture in your head of his. His gummy smile was so sweet, so soft, and you’d immediately wanted to be the reason behind it once you saw it for the first time. Maybe that was all this was, Y/N L/N, blinded by the idealisation of a stranger.

You hoped it didn’t have to end here.

~~~

AN: ok so this was supposed to just be posted in one go but as its taking some time ive decided to split it into two parts (maybe three but im not convinced i guess we’ll see)

Part Two — coming soon

Masterlist

[trashfor-imagines]

If There’s Light There’s Hope | 6

Bakugou x Fem!Reader (BNHA)

Summary: U.A. High School was your dream. You wanted to save people. You never expected how wild your journey would be and you certainly never expected a hot headed boy to play as large of a role as he would. Warnings: Swearing. Spoilers: If you haven’t watched the School Festival episodes thru the end of S4 because they’re not dubbed yet and want to avoid spoilers (+ you haven’t read the manga), then you’ll want to not read this chapter. [1] | [2] | [3] | [4] | [5] | [6] | [7]

-

“A school festival! I hope one of the classes hosts a couples event,” you mused out loud during the girl’s only study group.

“I never expected you to be such a romantic,” Jirou commented, a few of the other girls echoing their agreement.

Smiling at them, you simply shrugged. “Never had a boyfriend before. All of these thoughts and feelings are new to me.”

Ashido perked up as her alarm went off. “Sorry girls, time for dance practice.”

She and a few of the other girls headed off to meet with the rest of the dance team. You’d been stuck with Aizawa and the rest of the interns making up work you missed while the rest of the class decided what you were doing for the festival. You didn’t mind your role doing special effects; it would be perfect to showcase your quirk.

Soon enough it was band practice and you were left alone. Thanks to you and Todoroki, the special effects team had their plan solidified a while ago so you didn’t have to meet very often. Putting your things away in your room, you headed back downstairs to make dinner and prepare snacks while everyone worked hard on their routines. Just two more days.

When you were hanging out the other week, Hitoshi had tried to get you to sign up for the beauty pageant. That caused quite the heated argument between the two of you, especially when he teased you about using his quirk to get you to sign up. When you brought the pageant up in passing with Bakugou, even he paused before acting nonchalant and yelling about how if you wanted to sign up it was up to you. You called Hitoshi immediately and told him you’d sign up so long as he helped you.

“Look Hito, you brought up participating in the first place. It’s only right you take responsibility for your part in this.”

The two of you spent forever deciding on clothing choices and what talent you were going to demonstrate. You recalled most of a dance routine from when you were in the dance club in junior high and you were positive you could make it work for one person. If that failed, you could maybe perform Ikebana (flower arranging), but that could be pretty boring to watch. Hitoshi asked for his mom’s help which she was more than excited to take you shopping for an outfit. Looking at Kenranzaki’s outfits from previous years, you settled on a colorful kimono that complimented you.

Soon enough the day of the festival arrived. At 9AM, you changed into a short robe with a pair of shorts and spent 45 minutes taking your time with your skincare regimen, having Hitoshi help you with your hair. He was awkward, but it warmed you how hard he tried. Running through the day’s schedule in your head, you’d have a little while longer after 1-A’s performance to get dressed and zen out to calm your nerves.

It was easy to ignore Kendo and Nejire’s friendly teasing of who would win, but it was almost impossible to keep your headspace clear as Kenranzaki cackled about how she was the sure winner. Kendo and Nejire’s moods seem to change and you decided it was time to go before the their energy could throw you off. Carefully tying a scarf to protect Hitoshi’s hard work on your hair, you and Hitoshi went your separate ways, agreeing to meet up later, before you joined the rest of 1-A in the gym; Midoriya a few minutes behind you. When no one was looking, you pressed a small kiss below Bakugou’s ear.

“You’re going to be great.”

Before he could pull you back, you had Uraraka use her quirk to quickly get you up to the rafters. You made sure to settle into a spot where you could clearly watch the performance and still do your part. The chanting and cheers of the students sent vibrations throughout the room and you could feel it.

At 10:00 the curtains opened and your eyes lit up. They were incredible!

On Todoroki’s queue, your hands extended to the stage and slowly began to glow brighter and brighter for the finale. As they struck their final notes you released sparks, careful so that they weren’t dangerous. The cheers of the student body sent a surge of motivation through you and to your heart. It was then you realized how capable everyone was, especially when you worked together.

Meeting Bakugo backstage, you pressed a kiss to his cheek as he held you tightly to his side. “That was incredible! Did you mean to create an explosion during the opening?”

The way his eyes seem to avoid yours and that faint blues told you that was improvised. “C’mon let’s get lunch before your pageant.”

“But we’ve got to clean up.”

“It’s okay (Y/N). We agreed that you should go ahead and get ready for the beauty pageant,” Iida spoke up. “The rest of class can handle this and we’ll be there to support you, but Bakugou, you have to stay and help! Don’t think you can use (Y/N) to get out of cleaning!”

As Bakugou fumed, your eyes lit up as you laughed. “Thanks, class rep!”

You made it back to the dressing room, meeting with Hitoshi who had gotten you some snacks to eat. Carefully getting dressed, you added hair pieces and jewelry to your look along with some light make up. You went on just before Nejire, which was a bit nerve-racking as she was also doing a dance. All you could do was try your best. Spotting your classmates and Bakugou at the front of the crowd cheering for you ensured you didn’t lose your smile during your performance.

Though most of the girls changed back into their school uniforms, you decided Hitoshi’s hard word deserved some more attention so you stayed in your pageant outfit. It wasn’t like you were planning on participating in any of the sport activities. You took photos with Todoroki, cheered Bakugou on while he competed in the obstacle course, shared a crepe with him because he won, and enjoyed 1-C’s haunted house - Hitoshi definitely giving you a good scare.

At the end of the day your class gave you tight hugs as you came in third place. Monoma definitely gave you an earful for beating Kendo, who simply shook your hand in the spirit of friendly competition. Bakugou held your hand tightly, loudly proclaiming that you were still his number one and anyone who disagreed could fight him. The two of you went off to do couples experiences during the rest of the festival, though you were sure a few of your classmates weren’t that far behind.

“You look nice,” he muttered once the two of you entered The Lovers’ Maze, the brain child of Class 1-E. 

“Oh, thanks.” Part of you was disappointed and it was clear in your voice; if he was going to compliment you, you were hoping he’d put more effort into it. He should have kept quiet and ended on a high note when he yelled that you were his number one.

It was dark and difficult to see each other’s expressions. The only light was up ahead, leading the two of you on where to go. The light suddenly went out and he squeezed your hand in reassurance before cute, glowing pink hearts appeared, providing a gentle light so you could see each other.

“Are you... blushing?” you asked him, surprised.

He avoided your gaze. “So what if I am?”

“But, why?” you asked teasingly, leaning forward to try and get him to look you in the eye.

He growled to himself before grasping both of your shoulders firmly, locking eyes with you. “Any idiot who looks at you and doesn’t turn a little red doesn’t deserve to look at you! You’re beautiful, got it?”

Your face lit up like a red light on a traffic stop, unsure of what to say, “Katsuki...”

“I’m not really... good... at compliments... and stuff,” he mumbled, clear enough for you to understand. “So try not to get your feelings hurt if I don’t know what to say the first time. I’ll get it right at some point.”

A smile tugged at your lips. “Okay, I’ll be patient.”

The Japanese Hero Billboard Chart was one of the most talked about events after the school festival on campus. You’d be a liar if you said you weren’t excited about it as well. It was the best event to happen twice a year! There was just something wonderful about seeing your favorite heroes getting recognized. You tried more than once to convince Todoroki to get Endeavor to take the two of you, but he refused. You spent the last week being pouty and curled up to Bakugou’s side.

It wasn’t until the Wild Wild Pussycats came to visit with some cute Paw Pad Buns that you finally expressed any mood other than being bratty. You helped Sato prepare some tea for the Pros. It was great to hear they were back in business again.

The day of the the Japanese Hero Billboard Chart event, you seemed to be glued to the television in the common area, snacks and drinks surrounding you like your own little island, or fortress, of food. This was the first time that heroes were going to actually appear on stage and you weren’t planning on missing any of it.

“Isn’t this a bit much?” Kaminari asked, trying to sneak one of your rice balls away from you.

“First of all, Kaminari, you could ask me for a snack first! Second, I love seeing the rankings live! It’s exhilarating to see just how well the heroes have done between polls!” You paused at hearing Edgeshot’s ranking and cheered, attracting more attention from your classmates than you’d meant to.

“(Y/N) maybe... you should back up from the television. Your eyes will go bad from sitting close.” You sent a sharp look Iida’s way and he quickly backtracked, apologizing for disturbing you.

No one had the heart to tell you to quiet down, even Iida didn’t want to yell at you for being loud. It was a rare sight to see you energized or excited about anything. Your eyes lit up as Hawks was announced as number two, which only reaffirmed it: Endeavor was number one! You couldn’t wait for internships to start up again. Though he wasn’t the softest person out there, you learned so much from Endeavor and appreciated his strictness; especially since you were quite serious about your own future as a Pro. His entrance was certainly the coolest and his new armor pieces looked very cool, making him seem more menacing than usual.

Their speeches had your full attention, not even Bakugou annoyingly prodding at you with a finger could tear you away as you happily snacked on popcorn. You raised your brows as Hawks stepped forward to speak. He was always a rebel in everything he did. His speech had your jaw dropping. Tokoyami really did his internship with this guy? For the first time, you peeped at your classmate in question who seemed to have a pained expression on his face; it was incredible how different the two of them could be.

Your body tensed as Endeavor received the mic. How was he going to follow up that wild speech? It was certainly short and direct.

Just watch me.

Scrambling for your phone, you quickly sent a text to your mentor, telling him you thought he was quite cool for what he said. It was his work cell so you were sure he’d see it tomorrow or something. There had only been a few other sparing messages between the two of you, the last one being from when you asked if you could get permission to watch Todoroki at one of his remedial courses. During your internship, he hardly ever responded to you, preferring to address your questions briefly in person.

At the end of the program you sighed stretching from your terrible posture, before cleaning up the mess you made as you camped out in front of the television. With the fierce - and scary - Endeavor as the new Number One, villains would have to be crazy to start any trouble.

The next day, you went with Todoroki to the post office. You had sold a few little handmade items online and needed some help getting them mailed out. You’d normally annoy your boyfriend into helping you, but Bakugou was napping from his workout. Todoroki saw you struggling with your packages and said he had to mail a letter so he was happy to accompany you.

“Thanks so much Todoroki! You saved me from making two more trips,” you said, purchasing two drinks from the vending machine and offering him his favorite - something you observed from work study. The two of you sat on a bench and enjoyed your drinks.

“I think we’ve spent enough time together to be friends now. Please feel free to call me Shoto.”

Turning to look at him, you smiled. “Really? I don’t really have that many... friends that is. I mean, everyone in class is nice, but I don’t feel comfortable referring to them casually. You’d be like, one of four people total.”

“Yes. I’d like that.” He smiled faintly in return.

Finishing your drinks, you stood and offered him a hand up. “Okay, Shoto. Let’s head back.”

Returning to the dorms, you sat on the couch, turning the television on and browsing through the channels with a few of your classmates. You all decided to look for a movie to watch. An image flashed briefly on the screen and you had go back. It was the news channel and it looked like a fireball in the sky.

“Shoto! Come quick!” you called out, turning up the volume as your other classmates came over to join you. Your hands flew to your mouth, eyes wide.

Your mind seemed to blank as you watched events unfold. When it was over and that image of Endeavor appeared, still standing, you found yourself knelt beside Todoroki, your new friend, with hands on his shoulder and arm in comfort. Bakugou rested a hand on top of your head. It was silent as no one knew what to say.

Though it was a win, you had a feeling that not everyone would sleep well that night.

[ddaenghoney]

chapter two

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): minor intoxication, .

Word count: 5421

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

In the tiny meeting room, you scribble a few notes into a crummy notebook close to the end of untarnished pages. The four other girls are mostly talkative, casual as they look over the two songs found into their group’s use after Jimin’s crew decided against them and to pass on. You care little of the fact, honestly agreeing with the better suitability of the particular songs aligning to this group’s upcoming softer, warmer, early-spring concept.

Their manager exited already, leaving them to utilize the space for lunch while he handled other miscellaneous affairs.

“Ms. Y/N,” Your eyes met the youngest member as she leaned her head closer to the table so you would pay attention to her words. “Are you going to the club later too?” Your eyebrows furrow at the title, wondering why it would not leave no matter how many people you told to remove the formality.

“Doubt it.” You shrug, then tense as the leader of the group makes a shocked gasp, her long black hair whipping as she turns and faces you.

“What? But I wanted to buy you a drink for helping us so much.” She frowns. The expression is joined by the member sitting beside her equally upset. You glance between the two, then the youngest, and the one beside you.

“I,” You pause, thinking of an excuse other than not being interested in seeing Jimin interact with everyone as if he didn’t know you as more than a friend in the company.

“You,” The girl beside you grips on your shoulder, overtaking the sentence, “Could tag along with us.” She smiles meaningfully, and your lips tighten into a line. Frankly you assumed no one would question the absence, seeing as their had yet to be a question to you joining in the nightlife excursion beyond Jimin’s half-hearted inquisition. “Our makeup artist was going to help us get ready here at the company; I bet she’ll do your makeup too, if you want?”

An assistant enters after a knock, arms weighted from two large bags full of food. He sets it down and leaves, waving off the thanks from the members who immediately begin unpackaging.

“It’ll be fun; a lot of new people from the merger are going,” The youngest member explains to you as if creating reasoning for you to agree. She opens the top on a container of freshly cut fruit, and leans it in your direction. You gently shake your head smiling at the offer,

“I don’t know. I haven’t really had a weekend without doing things for work in a while.”

“Even more of a reason!” The leader nods at you with her cheek stuffed with a bite of a large wrap. “Perfect opportunity to let loose and have fun. Besides you’re a writer, I’m sure it’ll be a great way to get inspired, right?”

“I want to get into songwriting too.” The youngest member says across from you. Her other members make dramatic sounds before bumping into each other's' sentences to support her idea, a couple of mutterings here or there about wishing to do the same.

You wonder about it for a moment, trying to recall the amount of songs artists of the company wrote for themselves. You visualize a disparity in the actual self-sufficiency of them all. To the media, it is perceived that the idols contribute greatly, highlighted by the falsified credentials. Really though, most of the production isn’t up to them; across the board you can only think of a few artists or groups who did more of their own work than not. But they are the minor profiles of the company.

Stepping up from your seat, you collect your notebooks into your bag. “I’m going to head out; text me if you guys have any more comments on ideas you want to see in potential comebacks.”

“Wait, you’re not going to eat?” The member sitting beside you gestures her utensil to the food prepared. It wasn’t ordered for you in the first place, and considering how much these girls work on their performance aspect, you didn’t want to take the calories from them.

“No, I ate breakfast late, so it’s fine.” You wave to them as you walk to the door, trying to reply to their goodbyes with some of your own. Happy you avoided the topic of the club, but contemplative of the lingering thoughts building in your head about their desires to try and create songs independently.

They would undoubtedly need to okay from the company for any production to happen, but did the same need to be said of yourself?

“Oh, good timing,” The door shuts behind you as a voice to your left calls out. Turning to the person, you catch your sight instantly on light blonde locks arranged in slight waves on top of Min Yoongi’s head. They were black days before when you bumped into him last. “Can you give me a hand with this?”

You become aware of the box he’s balancing in one hand and the cylindrical container tucked under the other arm. Though the idea of help isn’t foreign, you can’t help but glance past yourself to see if he was talking to someone else. “Uh, yeah sure,” You agree, reaching as he gives you the light, lengthy container. “I’m sorry for bumping into you the other day, by the way.”

“Oh, was that you?” Yoongi asks you as you follow his pace down the hall, the box repositioned in front of his torso now. The words are calm, genuine in the lack of memory. Somehow the fact makes you nibble the side of your tongue while your gaze hardens in consideration towards the back of his head. A pair of headphones are useless around his neck, bumping into the subtle bounce of his hair with each step. “Don’t worry about it. It’s probably busy running around this place all day.”

You wonder if Yoongi remembers any other times you had interacted with one another. The very first time he seemed more reclusive than how he is in front of you now. During a tour of the building with his shoes following the CEO and her assistant around, you remember their group intersecting with you and Jimin moments before you left that day. He only said a greeting to you both then, despite the clear desire made by Yerin for more casual conversation to occur between Yoongi, his previous company’s golden face, and Jimin who ranks high in the charts since his debut as well.

“So,” Your mouth opens in the quiet that begins to feel uncomfortable when your memory paints the picture of his evasive hardened expression during that first interaction. An attempt to try and patch up any awkwardness that you got around him came out as you asked with an uncertain tone, “This place nicer than the last building?”

Yoongi doesn’t reply right away, not even with a nonverbal queue. You begin thinking he ignored you, especially because your walk behind him led you with no way to see an expression. With that in mind, you look down at the object he asked you to carry along, contemplating an apology for no reason.

“It’s hard to remember the layout.” Yoongi speaks thoughtfully, and you look back up at him. “I guess that’s just because I’m used to the old place.” His voice drifts with that line, softer and if you let yourself assume you would say he seems downcast. “My studio’s bigger here though.” In a way it sounds like he’s weighing his pros to the cons, only happenstance allowing his statement to be timed as an answer to your inquiry. “Ah, but this place isn’t bad.” A cover-up. Quicker spoken than before and Yoongi glances back towards you as his pace slows slightly. He speaks when you reach his side, “Have you worked here long?”

“I guess almost five years at this point.” You answer absently, curious about the change in his replies along the way. Yoongi nods, looking ahead as he comments,

“Long time. Assistants are treated pretty well here, huh?”

You stop in his tracks as the words flow in your ears. Yoongi continues one, two more steps then pauses as well, turning back to face you. Confusion growing in the furrow of his brows and slightly pouting lip. Your expression is certainly incredulous, and you almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of his perspective. “I’m not an assistant.”

His lips part to speak, but he doesn’t, pondering what about the misunderstanding was causing your face to become visibly frustrated, and your tone to become entirely vexed. Nevertheless, Yoongi faces you properly, bowing his head a little as he speaks, “Ah, I’m sorry. I guess because I always see you with the artists, I thought you were.”

His explanation is fair and you know it. That irritates you the most. Your grip on his item grows more forceful from the frustration, but you sigh to release the senseless anger aiming at his innocent container.

“Then,” Yoongi begins again, though your gaze drifting towards the floor between you both makes him wish he stopped before the next innocent question drifts from his mouth, “Are you dating Jimin-”

“No.” You’re quick to deflate the claim. Yoongi pauses at the rather loud statement that cut into Jimin’s name matching the glare in your eyes when they flick back to him. Your head shakes and you continue walking, “Where’s your studio?”

“I didn’t mean to upset you; I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine, it’s nothing. You wouldn’t know, why would you?” You ramble, eyes searching from plaque to plaque as if you also forgot the layout of the company. “I work here, though. I’m not some random person.” You felt a strong desire to yell the fact, or throw the cylinder in your hand if only to release how annoying it is that he, or anyone, has no reason or way to know whom you are.

“Ah, so,” Yoongi’s stuttering slightly as he thinks of something to say that won’t further serve to irritate you, “What do you do here then?” He briefly considers the idea that you are someone incredibly important and perhaps even someone he should not be acting so casually with, but your abrupt groan pushes him against that. If only because you seem genuinely unable to answer him, but Yoongi couldn’t think of a reason why.

The companies merged, you know that, and Yoongi would be under every legal obligation to not blab to the public about your position as a prominent songwriter in the company that is to remain unnamed in every way. However, you don’t want to say it. In your mind every thought wishes he already knows about you, but that is completely unfair considering reality.

“This one’s your studio?” You come across the door with a scribbled paper taped to it reading SUGA. The design clearly short-term, but as long as you could get away from the embarrassment of having to explain your stupidity in how you are involved with the company, you don’t care. “I help in song production.”

Yoongi notices the spite in your statement, but doesn’t comment on the fact as you place his packaged artwork against the wall. The corner of his lip bunches back into his cheek in consideration, but you’re oblivious to his visible discomfort of how he has upset you. He watches you stare at the stage name presented on the door to signify it being his space and wonders why he believes he sees a longing in your eyes.

“Thanks for helping me.” Yoongi says instead of anything else. He doesn’t know you. It’s not his place, and frankly not something he feels the need to bother with. Considering the amount of unloading that remains to make this place feel anything remotely like the last, he would rather the situation end. In any case, he figures that you want him to stop talking about anything regarding you any further.

You only nod losing focus of the room he has earned with a title to prove it as you glimpse back towards Yoongi to offer a small polite smile. You wave your hand and say goodbye, feigning the energy of contentment and hoping none of the envy prickling in your chest pokes through your irises. If it does, Yoongi doesn’t mention it and begins entering into his studio after you walk back from where you came from.

The second time in the same week that you can’t speak properly for yourself and it has your throat teeming with frustration. Maybe Namjoon is right, maybe you should leave once the contract is over. But then what? You’re in the elevator staring at the number listing the floor become lower. If you leave you’re sure to start from the ground up with nothing able to go on your resume other than vague mentions of song production like you mentioned to Yoongi. Sure, you could dress the phrasing and use the five years to make it sound moderately impressive, but why should you?

The glistening tiles you step on in this building that everyone moved into a year and a half ago were purchased through your efforts. The songs that chart, the artists that are gaining acclaim with every passing day, even the mixing on a good number of songs were all thanks to you. SoundWave Entertainment’s drastic rise in success is due to a handful of people, but you’re one of them. The world just didn’t know that.

What would happen if they did?

“You’ll get sued.” Namjoon’s voice is flat through the speaker. You scoff at the fact, blending foundation while trying not to glare at your reflection. “Sorry,” Now sheepish, but unapologetic despite his words. Realistic. “Even if you tell the press afterwards, I don’t think another company would pick you up-”

“Why?” You interrupt actually shocked at him then. You wait for Namjoon to answer while he’s clearly drifted into telling one of his employees something about a reservation for the following week.

“Even if you’re in the right to have everyone know you wrote all of those songs-- produced some entirely too,” Namjoon begins again calmly, though he’s drawing scribbles on the margin of his calendar while he explains his perception. “If you’re the one who talks to the media about it, any other company is going to think you’re unloyal. Also, you’re going to lose your royalties from all the stuff you’ve made because that’s a part of the deal. You can’t say anything.”

There’s silence that follows. Namjoon allows you to have it, knowing his words didn’t set you at ease or uplift you in the slightest. But with you starting the call by telling him you intend to go to the club party this evening, he feels like you shouldn’t go in completely impulsive. Especially with how set against the event you had been up until that phone call.

“Start over completely then, huh?” Rhetorical tone. Sadder too. Namjoon frowns at his desk. “It’s what I get for signing the contract then. I just wanted something to help with college crap, and look where it got me.” He listens to you sigh, tapping the tip of his pen on the square in the calendar for the current day.

“Yerin took advantage of you.” His voice is icy; conviction unwavering for if you try to give yourself anymore blame. “It’s not like you won’t get work elsewhere.” A pause because he knows the idea implies practically starting over just as you said. “Or… You could try getting the contract adjusted when it’s time to renew.”

“What if,” You dip a small brush against a shade of eyeshadow. Your voice is deceptively calm given the severity of your sentence, “She won’t even want to renew?”

“Why?” Now Namjoon is thrown off from your words. He couldn’t remember a story about yourself in the company that could logically warrant dropping you.

“Min Yoongi works there now too.” You pause before beginning to apply the eyeshadow. His repertoire crosses through your mind. “Songwriter, producer,” You scoff, “Plus he’s actually an idol.”

“He’s not going to let them use any of his stuff without credit though.” Namjoon cancels the worry he hears seeping into your voice. “They’ll still want their idols to look self-sufficient and he’s not going to play along with no credit. You know what he’s like.”

Namjoon is referring to the stoic persona pictured in magazines, and the straight-forward answers in interviews. The captionless posts on Instagram, and passively-aggressive tweets. The newly bleached hair that you believe will look just as imposing in paparazzi shots as his previously black style.

You consider the instant apologies Yoongi gave you hours earlier and the thanks. You remember him trying, and failing, to change the topic of conversation into something that would even out your lowering disposition.

“Yeah, I doubt he’d let them walk all over him.” You murmur, recollecting your thoughts to finish your makeup. “It’s just me that didn’t consider the long-term problems in that contract.” You’re laughing cynically while Namjoon audibly huffs on the other side. Slapping the palette shut, you scoot the chair of your desk back and rise. “I’m no doubt going to end up at your place sometime tonight.”

“I’ll let you use the bed instead of Jin then.” Namjoon says already imagining the ear full to be received from Seokjin at the prospect. The bed in question is still in a couch-form across the room from Namjoon. “Call me if anything weird happens, okay?”

“I will.” You leave the phone on your desk, calling loudly as you step away to the closet.

“And,” Namjoon hesitates, biting his lip. The tension doesn’t lessen when you ask him what he wanted. “Don’t let anything about Jimin get you down tonight, if you can avoid it.”

You pull out the dress to wear as Namjoon’s request completes. His tone is utterly soft and you know it comes from the best intentions, but it scrapes your ears to hear it. Namjoon likes Jimin, knows you like Jimin too much, and doesn’t like the relationship you and Jimin have. Believes it won’t work for either of you with how it is. You waver in agreement, but you always tell him it’s nothing to worry about.

“Doubt I’ll even run into him. People to impress and all.” You don’t specify, but Namjoon rightfully assumes you’re referring to Jimin.

Like other parties organized by SoundWave, there’s some chaos going on outside of the club. Under the cold December air, eager partygoers arrange themselves in the queue, groups of friends huddled closer to shield from any brisk air. You imagine by midnight the majority of those unable to get in will have left to other venues, but you unfortunately don’t think the same for the few cameramen set up around the street. They’re hoping for something scandalous as if they forgot the whole event is sponsored by an idol company; it’s ridiculous to assume anything surprising will happen where all the celebrities are aware of their presence.

You pass the queue on the sidewalk, clutch in hand while you hurry from the taxi to indoors where it’ll undoubtedly be warmer than outside. Your name is on the list and you roll your eyes at the fact that this is the extent of where your reputation gets broadcasted. Disregarding any of the questioning voices from those around you, you simply walk inside and let them assume whatever about your identity in relationship to the celebrity world. The coat counter is a small mess of people trying to sign in their items, and you’re grateful that you opted against the outerwear.

“Y/N!” Your eyes don’t have time to survey the colorful, loud room before a familiar voice catches your focus. Seokjin waves at you while exiting from behind the main bar, keeping his clear drink level as he meets you. “You did show up after all, huh?” He halfway hugs you, then begins in the walk back towards the bar, sipping gingerly at his martini.

“You know, I get impulsive when I’m spiteful.” You say jovially, smiling when the words cause him to laugh.

“Like when you dyed your hair because I joked-- very jokingly said I couldn’t imagine you doing it.” He shakes his head when you nod proudly at the memory, though the blue lasted about a month before you needed to go to a hairdresser to fix that mess you made. “What’ll you have? Remember you don’t have to pay for anything while you’re here-- well, don’t get the giant bottles of champagne though, those things are kind of pricey.”

“I’m not trying to dry out your supply, don’t worry.” He gives you a thumbs up and goes to mix you a drink you didn’t specify but as he reaches for the bourbon, you know he remembers your usual anyways. You thank him for the icy drink then very gently clink yours to his and take a long sip. A small burn in the throat that’s mostly warm. “You see anyone interesting so far?”

“I don’t know.” Seokjin shrugs, setting his empty glass down and you watch it quickly be whisked away by a dishwashing employee. “I feel like celebrities start to all look the same when I’m here all the time.” He leans his elbows onto the counter, smirking softly as he speaks, “By the way, I’ve seen quite a few looks in your direction since you walked in. Winning outfit tonight.”

Seokjin’s coy expression grows into amusement when your eyes widen from his words. Your hands shift a bit tighter around your glass as the single piece of ice floats to the top. You glance over your shoulder in wonder, biting back any satisfaction from your expression, but Seokjin knows better. “Hey, quit playing it off; you know you look hot, I saw your instagram story post-”

“Can you not?” You laugh at him and he joins in. Fitting a thanks to a bartender that gave him a new martini, he continues in his laughter while you go on. “So you liked the picture, huh?”

“I sent you the heart emoji face.” He grins, content with your relaxation as you take another drink. You shrug off his words.

“Excuse me,” The familiarly light voice drifts in your senses, as the seat next to yours becomes occupied. Your eyes find Jimin’s as he makes himself comfortable. Dusty rose colored hair styled up out of his face, and his lips are as springlike when he smiles gently at you, then turns his attention to Seokjin. “Can I order a drink?”

“He’s the owner.”

“I’m the owner.” You and Seokjin speak over each other, making him scoff, then continue as Jimin’s obscured hand finds the top of your thigh where your dress ends. A beat in your heart feels heavier. “But yeah, I can get you something. Jimin, right?”

“Yeah, and thanks. Gin and tonic, please.” Jimin speaks respectfully, turning his hand upwards as yours searches for his. Seokjin casts you a glance, noticing your very small shrug, he walks down the bar refraining from laughter. “You came?” He turns on the stool to face you, letting his boot settle on the footrest of your seat beside your heel.

“You can see me can’t you?” Your teasing earns his hand to squeeze your own. The action creates a ripple in your chest, growing larger as Jimin smiles wider.

“Lovely, don’t tease me. I’m just happy you’re here; I didn’t think you’d come.” You nod, but think against telling him about the reasoning behind your change of mind.

“Just thought why not.” You say simply, biting your lip as Seokjin places a drink beside Jimin. Seokjin then points his middle and index fingers to his eyes then towards you as he steps off once more.

“Did I interrupt something potential?” Jimin asks you catching the final bit of the actions. His tone is slightly lower than before, clearly curious above all.

“Friend of mine.” You settle any of his worries, even though there isn’t a defined obligation to do so. Jimin raises an eyebrow, surprised for a moment before eventually nodding,

“Ah, that’s right. Jin is this Seokjin.” He continues to nod, rubbing his neck with his hand sheepishly. You smirk softly and he sees it. “What?”

“Jealous?” Your tone drips with a joking sound, to ensure him that he didn’t need to take you seriously, but a piece of you hopes he would.

“Not jealous,” He says easily, eyes drifting to his untouched drink and you nod. As expected. “Maybe if he made you laugh longer.” You look at him. His expression is contemplative towards his drink. Calm, but something about it feels feigned. Jimin finds your eyes, losing himself for a second in the focus of your own. He scoots towards you, knee grazing yours as his face leans to speak tiny vibrations to your ear, “Why don’t we go to the VIP booths, baby?”

---

The majority of the crowds and dancing occurs on the ground level, while offset by half a story exists the VIP area that privately overlooks the club. Nothing particularly luxurious about it, other than its own set of employees to take orders for drinks. The nights you and Namjoon came with friends, Seokjin allows your group to use one, and you’re used to the tinted glass wall that filters away some of the pulsating music. Jimin mentions some other idols from the company being a part of the group with him that use the table he sits with you at, but also them all being far more interested in partying to be there for any longer than makeup touch-ups or a glass of water.

The knowledge makes the five drinks ingested throughout the next couple of hours hit differently. You know he’s had a similar amount of alcohol, but like you you don’t get affected as vigorously as other people. Nevertheless the lull in your head makes the slow kisses more frequent than other times when you and him were out in public together.

“I like this dress.” Jimin says as his hand runs along your side, feeling the smooth material against his skin and the small fidget of your waist when your grip settles along your hip. A smirk plays along his lips that end up against your neck, languidly pressing ministrations to the skin. “I’m glad you came.”

“I was thinking you didn’t really care if I did.” You admit though you gasp softly, gripping the silk of his top when his mouth travels over a sensitive spot. Jimin hums in thought, feeling your grip tighten from the sensation, then more so when he nibbles at the skin, sucking with the intent to leave it a reminding blotch,

“Of course I want to see you whenever I can.” Jimin says simply, almost a stung timbre in the words, as he pulls away finding your gaze for a passing moment then kissing your lips softly like words aren’t enough for him. You arms stray to wrap around his neck, letting him tug you closer to lengthen the kiss until you’re short of breath. “Did you say that because we haven’t been able to go on a date lately?”

Your chest rises and falls as it takes in air, arms remaining positioned around Jimin while he keeps his grip protective on your waist. Eyes searching through yours with worry cracking through. “No,” You shake your head, pecking his lips gently. “I was just saying something dumb. It’s been a weird week and all.”

“With,” Jimin’s voice stutters while he recalls everything that’s gone on the past week. “It was just the meeting, wasn’t it, baby?” He frowns when your eyes avoid his face to favor a stare towards the table. “Hey,” A hand cups your cheek, coaxing you to look back towards him as concern presents itself, “Lovely, you don’t have to hide things from me. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t.” Flatly said. Jabbing at Jimin’s composure as he feels you metaphorically pulling away from him. “It’s nothing important.”

Nothing you think he’ll want to talk about. Jimin doesn’t like talking about your contract, he’s never let that topic stick around for more than a couple of back and forth sentences. If your growing dissatisfaction with your treatment is something he truly cares about, he would’ve spoken in your favor. You swallow air at the swordlike thought.

“If something’s bothering you-” You both startle as boots clack directly behind you. Shifting from Jimin he lets his hands fall from you when you move away. Turning to look over your shoulder you watch blonde hair walk away from you two, down the stairs towards the main floor. You smile bitterly, finding this whole thing ridiculous as you mumble,

“I have to hide making my songs, and I have to hide being with you.”

“Y/N-”

“We should call it quits for tonight, right?” You look back at Jimin wondering if the stinging in your eyes is visible to him. His expression appears to be at a loss, lips a line, and his hands clenching.

“Why are you bringing all that up?” Your heart drops at the question, and the disconnect from him continues as Jimin appears to grow stoic.

“You asked me if something was wrong, and then you say that?” Your voice feels hot and you sigh hoping it’ll help alleviate pressure in your throat. You remove yourself from the booth thinking he may stop you, but Jimin stays still watching you grab your clutch. “I don’t like how things are right now.”

Despite the vague pronoun, Jimin registers the firmness in your voice, and how you’re visibly upset with more than just his insensitive question. He bites his inner cheek, watching you take the first step away before he’s bolting from the booth to grab your hand.

“Baby,” His pleading tone makes the stinging in your eyes more unbearable. “Please don’t go. Let’s talk-”

“If I tell you I hate my contract what are you going to say?” You don’t look at him when the questions trembles from your lips in frustration that fizzes painfully in your head. “That,” You feel his grip loosen before you’re able to continue, “You’re going to help me change it?”

You hear the lively voices, and a fast-paced song dominating the air, but Jimin behind you remains quiet. Tugging your arm from his grasp takes little effort, like he was ready to let go. Let you leave. Unwilling to answer and put truth in the air.

You want to know why when you turn to face him but Jimin’s expression stops your open mouth from speaking. Like he’s resigned to himself, eyes matching with yours to show hardened seriousness. You step towards him while he follows your movement, looking down at you. He’s successful at hiding from you how much his heart hurts at the sight of your building tears.

“Jimin,” The tremble in your voice stabs into his mind more, a pensive barely there frown the only thing that lets you into his thoughts at all. “Don’t you think I deserve to have my name in the credits?”

His shoulders shrug uncertainly and still not a word. You’re unable to understand why he closes away every time this discussion comes up. Why is he on the side of Yerin to keep things as they are? A bud in your brain feels pulsing at the thorn of implications that question could lead to and it makes you feel desperate for something out of him.

Jimin’s palm finds your waist to stable himself when your hands reach for his top to pull him towards you, lips attaching themselves to one another if only to get him to remember that he cares about you despite whatever ridiculous persona he’s trying to play at. Kissing him makes him responsive and it’s as though he’s letting the hidden emotions out; you feel the longing as he tugs you closer to him so that your body is pressed to his and he’s hugging you.

When your tear connects with his cheek Jimin pulls away, a surprised expression mixing into his longer breaths for air. You let the next few droplets leave your eyes, because he didn’t break the wall gaping between you two. You release your hands from his shirt and walk away.

Jimin lets you.

if you enjoy please, please let me know! i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

tag list (send an ask to be added): @jaiuneamesolitaiire​

[woossexyponytail]

Shadow born, Chapter 7 A date to remember.

Masterlist.

A week had passed since the reborn ritual for San, and I have to be honest, San has been avoiding me for the week, I ending up asking Yunho if he knew anything but said no, as helpful as ever.

It was Friday and I was walking to class with Hongjoon as he asked questions about the ritual, as we got to the door my name was yelled out, turning around I saw Wooyoung running up to me.

"Wooyoung you need to get to class" Hongjoon said glearing at the younger male, Wooyoung sheepishly smiled looking over at me, Hongjoon sighed leaving us alone.

"Is everything alright woo?" I asked as we walked away from the door so no one would hear us, Wooyoung rubbed his neck and looked down at the floor.

"I was wondering if you would want to go on a date with me tomorrow?" He asked I stood there shocked not knowing what to say, he smiled sweetly at me. 'I mean Wooyoung is my friend he is really sweet and kind and annoying and very loud, but ...' I thought to myself.

"Sure, when and where?" I asked smiling at him, Wooyoung stood frozen now it was his turn to be shocked. I giggled at his expression as I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Uh, ye..yeah YEAH!, We could go to a little coffee shop I know or maybe to the cinema? Or maybe-" Wooyoung kept rambling as he obviously didn't think I would say yes. "Wooyoung let's just wait till tomorrow, pick me up at my place alright at one?" I asked, he nodded his head a wide eyed smile.

"See you at lunch!" He yelled as he ran off to his class hoping he won't be late. I walked in to the class and all eyes were on me, I sat down next to Hongjoon a questioning expression on my face. Hongjoon laughed quietly.

"We all heard Wooyoung ask you out, he isn't exactly quite" Hongjoon explained to me, I slapped my forehead against the table as Hongjoon chuckled at my reaction.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

At lunch we all sat down at the main table, as I sat next to Hongjoon and San, Wooyoung was infront of me a huge smile on his face, as he grinned at me.

"So San, Jongho what familiars are you thinking of getting?" I asked them, Jongho looked up mouth full of food, while San eyed me thinking.

"I was thinking about a dog?" Jongho said shoving food back in his mouth, I nodded at him then turned to San waiting for him to answer.

"I was thinking about a turtle and naming it Tiddles" San said the rest of us laughed at the cute name. San grinned as we all started to eat. Though I still felt tension between San and myself, looking over at him San was busy talking to Yeosang and Wooyoung, shaking my head I started talking with Hongjoon.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

School had ended as the group was walking out of school, I looked behind me seeing San talk with Wooyoung, Wooyoung himself looked overjoyed talking with him while San smile didn't reach his eyes.

I turned back to Hongjoon as he was talking with Yeosang and myself, after we walked to the gate Yunho and I walking off waving goodbye to the group.

"So you got a date with Wooyoung tomorrow?" Yunho asked as he chuckled, I sighed not really wanting to know how he knew about that.

"And how do you know?" I finally asked looking over at him, Yunho smirked at me chuckling again, "well Wooyoung is particularly loud, you haven't realised?" Yunho asked laughing.

"Yes I'm starting to realise that now" I said sighing and rubbing my forehead as we carried on walking home.

Getting back auntie was once again in the kitchen, saying hi to her we both made our way upstairs, as I opened my bedroom door changing in to something comfy.

Walking back downstairs Yunho already in the kitchen playing with Salem, I quickly grabbed a snack from the fridge and sitting down at the table munching on my food.

"Oh auntie, guess what? Yn has a date tomorrow, with Wooyoung" he said picking up Salem and hugging him, auntie looked over at me raising a brow.

"Ok I'm leaving" I said getting up from my seat and walking over to the stairs, Yunho grabbed me before I was able to leave, pulling me in to a hug.

"My big sister has a date with someone younger then her!" He yelled laughing, I punched him in the arm as I tried getting out of his embrace. Finally breaking out I walk over to auntie helping her out with the food.

"Yes, if you must known I am going on a date with Wooyoung tomorrow" I told them, auntie looked over at me and asked about San. I shrugged not knowing what to say.

"Ever since the ritual he hasn't spoken to me" I told her, auntie hugged me tightly as she told both Yunho and I to do our homework, we both groaned and walked slowly back upstairs.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

I was upstairs getting ready for my date with Wooyoung, I picked some black skinny jeans and a green crop top, with a jean jacket, my hair was up in a ponytail. I was pretty nervous about this date, why I don't know so I picked up Stolas giving him a hug.

The door bell rang, I put Stolas down on my bed checking quickly in the mirror, I nodded my head and started walking out of my bedroom.

"I'LL GET IT!" Yunho yelled walking to the door, I saw the smirk as my eyes widened, I ran down the stairs trying to get to the door before Yunho, once he saw me Yunho started running as well.

I got to the door the same time as Yunho as we both pushed each other out of the way, I quickly pinched his arm as he flinched away from me, I opened the door revealing Wooyoung standing there smiling at me, a single rose in his hand.

"Hey, I uh got you this" he said shyly passing me the rose, I blush grabbing the rose, thanking him. Yunho came peeking around the door smirking at Wooyoung.

"Hey woo!" Yunho said chuckling at him, Wooyoung blushed at Yunho a smile on his face. I placed the rose in the kitchen and as I walked back Yunho and Wooyoung were talking, about what I didn't know.

"Ok let's go" I said grabbing Wooyoung's hand and dragged him away from the house, hearing Auntie yelling at us to have fun.

Wooyoung giggled at the situation as we both walked down to town both having very noticeable blushes on our faces.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

Wooyoung and I decided to go to the cinema to watch a movie, after grabbing the tickets we made our way to get some food and drinks. Standing in the queue we talked about what to get, some salty popcorn to share and I was going to get cherry coke, while Wooyoung got diet coke.

As we got in are seats both munching on the popcorn are hands knocked in to each other, both blushing I looked away at the screen but felt Wooyoung's eyes on me.

After a few hours after the movie finished Wooyoung asked if I wanted to grab some food, which I agreed too. We made our way out of the cinema, he held out his hands a light blush on his cheeks, I grinned at him then took his hand in mine.

We walked down the street hand in hand looking around and figuring out where to eat. After a while we decided on one of the little coffee shops that had one of the best pastries in town.

As we sat down opposite one another eating some chocolate chip cookies between us, I picked up my Cinnamon cream and marshmallow hot chocolate. My other hand was on the table, Wooyoung grabbed my hand and entwined our fingers together.

I smiled over at him squeezing his hand as we talked for a few more hours, after that Wooyoung paid for our meal. Taking my hand again we walked slowly back to my house.

"I had a nice time yn, and I really like you" Wooyoung said rubbing his neck, I smiled back at him, Wooyoung leaned forward his lips connected with mine, I closed my eyes as I wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him closer, his arms around my waist.

"Thanks for the date, it was fun" I said smiling at him, Wooyoung giggled as he took my hand back in his and walking back to my house.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

As we got to the house Wooyoung kissed me again, "Why don't you come in?" I asked tilting my head to the side raising my eyebrow at him, Wooyoung's eyes winded as a sly smirk replaced his sweet smile.

"Oh, that sounds fun" he giggled, he grabbed my waist dragging me with him as we entered the house. Hopefully auntie will be ok with Wooyoung sleeping over. We sneak to my room without being seen by Yunho, god knows what he would say.

Closing the door and locking it Wooyoung turned me around as we quickly started taking off our clothing and throwing it on the floor. We were both now in just underwear.

I pushed Wooyoung on my bed, him now sitting down looking up at me with hunger in his eyes, I walked over to him pulling myself on top of him and straddling him just above his hips, my hands on his shoulders for support as I leaned forward pressing my lips against his.

Feeling his dick already hard and twitching against my inner thigh, After a few moments of breathless kissing my hands ran up and down his chest, Wooyoung's hands grabbing at my ass and squeezing pulling me closer, he then picked me up and my legs wrapped around him as he layed me down on my bed, taking off my bra and throwing it behind him.

His hands immediately on my breasts squeezing them, he licked at my left as I moaned pulling his head close to me and my nails digging in to his scalp.

Wooyoung took off his underwear he twitches a bit when I took his dick in my hand and begin to stroke the length of it, precum starts coming out, he moved my underwear out the way but keeping it on, looking down at me I could feel his dick at my entrance.

He leaned over my body to get right next to my ear. "How bad do you want it?" He asked, I just nodded frantically with want, and then he pushed himself inside of me.

His lips found mine as I kiss him back, and my heart beats faster and faster as he pulls away and kisses down my neck, probably leaving marks.

I nodded my head for him to move and he did slowly in and out, I pulled him close telling him to go faster as he then picked up the pace hitting in to me hard, my mouth found his shoulder as I bit down to keep myself from screaming.

"Fuck, your so beautiful" Wooyoung grunted grabbing at the side of my leg and wrapping it around his waist. My hands on his back as my nails digging in to his skin again. His lips found mine once more as he started biting down feeling some blood dripping down.

"Fuck, I'm cumming" Wooyoung grunted again, I could feel myself close too but I couldn't say anything, one of Wooyoung's hands placed itself between my legs rubbing me as I started to cum.

And with that so did Wooyoung as he came in to me feeling his hot seed fill me up, Wooyoung collapsed on top of me his head laying on my shoulder. We layed staying quiet as we catched our breaths.

Wooyoung slowly pulled out of me I looked down watching him push his cum back in to me and placing my underwear over, I looked up at him as he smiled sheepishly about what he did, he came closer as we kissed again.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

Waking up the next morning I felt arms around my waist, looking over Wooyoung was still fast asleep, I turned over facing him, Wooyoung opened his eyes looking over at me smiling, I smiled back as I giggled.

"Is this real?, did we really go on a date yesterday?" He asked, I rolled my eyes at him and kissed his lips. He leaned forward kissing me again. Just then the door opened revealing Yunho.

"Get up you two auntie made breakfast!" He yelled, I rolled my eyes once again throwing a pillow at him as he quickly closed the door laughing.

"I guess that means we have to get up now right? Wait wasn't the door locked?" He asked laying on me and putting his head in my neck, just then there was a meow as Stolas jumped up on to the bed.

"Magic remember, That is are que to get up" I laughed getting out of bed, Wooyoung quickly grabbed me pulling me back, falling back on the bed I looked over at him.

"Thanks for letting me stay" he said kissing me, I chuckled as I leaned in to the kiss, "Don't thank me, thank my auntie" I told him giggling again.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

Sitting down at the table auntie placed the food down on the table, Wooyoung sat next to me and opposite Yunho, Wooyoung thanked auntie for the breakfast as we ate in silence, Yunho then got a text, picking it up he looked at the message.

"Oh San just text me, Wooyoung your not answering your phone" Yunho said looking over at him, Wooyoung shrugged telling him that he'll talk to San later. My stomach turned feeling nervous, 'what if San found out?' I shock my head clearing that thought.

Breakfast thankfully went a bit normal after as we finished up, and helpped auntie with the dishes. Wooyoung quickly got dressed first. Wooyoung kissed my lips and left saying bye to Yunho and auntie as he walked out the door.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

I was sitting in my room at my desk writing down notes for my homework, just then my phone pinged with a text message, picking it up It was from San asking to meet him later and to have a serious talk with him about his powers.

I agreed to meeting him in a few hours, he said he'd come to the house and we can go somewhere quite, I put my phone down going back to my notebook.

"Did you just get a text from San?" Yunho asked standing by my door, I nodded carring on writing, "So is it a date?" He asked I looked over at Yunho glearing at him.

"No it's not" I said sternly to him, Yunho nodded at that. "Right right, your dating woo now right?" He asked smirking at me again, I slammed my pen down on the desk.

"I don't know Wooyoung hasn't said anything about dating, now will you please leave me in peace so I can get this done?" I asked glearing, Yunho raised his hands up in surrender walking out.

'This is going to be difficult' I thought hitting my head against the desk, not really knowing what to feel about meeting San, I like Wooyoung but I've got feeling for San too, but then I think straight back to Seonghwa. Damn life is hard.

[blissedoutphil]

Phil’s Road Trip Playlist

Thank you anon for the wonderful prompt, I hope you’re still around and I’m not too late at filling this! And I know you said fluffy and then sex but I got inspired to do something different so I’m sorry it doesn’t actually fulfil your prompt entirely :x but this could always mean a possible part 2 :~)

This is different from what I’m used to writing, I wanted to try something new and I really enjoyed it even if it doesn’t match up to my smut only fics lol. I hope you guys enjoy my first non-smut fic :)

7767 words of uni roommates!phan, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, songfic

Thank you for voting this to First Place in Undiscovered Fic category of the Phanficawards 2019 <3

or read on ao3!

“You alright?” Phil asked quietly, slinging his bag off his shoulder and dropping it to the floor before cautiously moving towards the motionless body in the bed opposite his.

His roommate didn’t answer him, just brought his blanket over his face.

Dan sighed. The only thing worse than sinking again is letting Phil see him sink again. He had tried. He’d tried to be better, stay better for the sake of Phil. If only so he wouldn’t have to see concern and worry and even sadness pool in those bright blue eyes. But sometimes he just couldn’t help falling back into the dark abyss of emptiness. What else could he do if everything is pointless anyways.

Dan felt the edge of his bed dip. He shut his eyes, not wanting to face the world. Not wanting to face his roommate and the fact that he’s a disappointment for letting his roommate down again. He knows Phil would never blame him, but deep down he blames himself for causing Phil so much worry.

Gentle hands pulled the blanket off his face. Dan blinked up, regretting it instantly when he saw Phil’s brows crease.

Phil hated seeing him like this. He knew that behind that lifeless stare was a warm hazel, full of wonder and awe. He loved seeing those eyes look back at him with excitement when they skip lectures for a movie, how they twinkle with hope when Phil assures him that everything will be fine in times when he couldn’t see anything positive in his future. Or in times when he couldn’t see himself even having a future at all.

“What happened?”

Whenever Dan was in this dark part of his mind, he just felt numb and emotionless. But Phil could simply say two words and suddenly his eyes stung with tears, his heart beat with fury and he felt too much all at once.

He wanted to answer Phil, wanted to yell at him, wanted to disappear. But he didn’t have the energy for any of that. All he could do was shrug and shut his eyes again.

Phil brushed away the curl that was covering Dan’s forehead. Dan can’t remember the last time he had a haircut, and he was sure that his messy tangled curls were definitely an unruly sight.

“Could you try to get up for me please? I know you haven’t eaten since yesterday and we should have lunch now,” Phil spoke softly, his words so full of care that Dan can’t deny his requests even if he wanted to.

Dan felt like his whole body was protesting as he tried to sit up. He’d been in bed since yesterday afternoon, and judging from Phil returning from school, it was probably past noon now. Still it didn’t feel like he’d had any rest at all. His mouth felt dry, but he didn’t have the appetite to eat or even drink.

“M’not hungry,” was all Dan managed to mumble out.

Phil bit his lip as he thought of how to coax Dan out of his bed. He knew that Dan always tried his best for him, even if he felt too exhausted to do anything. But he also didn’t want to push Dan too hard when he got like this. He took Dan’s hand in his.

Dan stared at his hand being sandwiched between Phil’s. Phil felt so warm around his cold hand. He slowly looked up at Phil quizzically.

“Let’s go for a drive,” Phil suggested softly.

Phil wasn’t a good driver; failed twice before finally getting his license and then never making use of it for a year after getting it despite having a car that was gifted to him by his parents for finally passing. Dan knew this and joked about how he would never risk his life being Phil’s passenger. But there was one day when Dan was falling into the darkness again, and he said something that stuck to Phil.

Dan talked about how he just wanted to feel free. The kind of freedom where he wouldn’t have to think about any responsibility he had, any failures or people he’d disappointed. The kind of freedom that he knew was temporary, but forgetting about his past and future to live in the moment would help him feel at peace even if just for a while until his mind was clear enough again to face his problems.

And Dan talked about how he’d feel that kind of fleeting freedom when he went on road trips. The vast fields and open skies as far as he could see down the never-ending road ahead gave him a sense of liberty. It shows him how big the world is, and how small his problems are in contrast. That there is so much more to life and what the world has to offer than his own worries and anxiety. And when he sees it that way, he’ll get more confident in trying to overcome his problems, instead of letting them eat him up instead.

Since then, Phil actually started practising his driving more. Dan was skeptical at first, but Phil insisted on driving him to campus one day. Dan thought he’d fear for his life, but it ended up being a really pleasant ride and he never made fun of his driving ever again.

“Where to?” Dan mumbled, staring at Phil’s thumb tracing circles on his hand.

“Anywhere. Nowhere, it doesn’t matter. But let’s just get out of here for a while,” Phil said, hoping for Dan to agree.

When Dan looked back up at Phil, all Phil could see was a cold, despondent stare that he was determined to bring warmth back into.

Dan’s whole body felt heavy, it was screaming at him to go back under the covers. But he looked at Phil, looked at his hopeful smile and his encouraging eyes. He already felt enough of a disappointment, he just couldn’t disappoint his best friend any further. 

So Dan gave a small nod, making Phil’s whole face light up. 

Phil quickly got up and grabbed a few pieces of clothing for both of them, shoving them into his backpack. Just in case. He didn’t know how long he’d need to drive before Dan felt better again. 

When he was done packing, he turned back to Dan whose eyebrows were knitted together as he looked at him. He was probably wondering why Phil needed to pack, but he didn’t voice it out. 

Phil came back to Dan’s bed and held onto Dan’s hands again. He gently pulled Dan up, and Dan pliantly allowed his body to be moved as Phil pleased.

“Let’s go,” Phil said excitedly, never letting go of Dan’s hand as he dragged his friend out of their room.

Dan immediately shut his eyes once he got settled in the car. The sun was blinding, and he felt like it was sucking whatever little energy he had left out of him. He just wanted to sleep. He trusted Phil to keep them both safe as he drove to wherever.

Phil looked over at Dan in dismay. He hoped that his plan would work, he just had to give Dan time. He was feeling hungry, having missed breakfast to attend his morning lecture and missed lunch to get back to Dan as soon as he could. So he decided to get them both food first.

Phil could tell that Dan wasn’t asleep because every now and then he would peek an eye open just to see where they were. So Phil knew that he wouldn’t be disturbing Dan if he filled the silence with music.

Dan’s brain was demanding him to sleep but shouting at him about all his worries at the same time. But through the loudness of his mind, he could still hear the song Phil started playing. 

Sleeping is giving in No matter what the time is Sleeping is giving in So lift those heavy eyelids

The lyrics hit Dan, and he opened his eyes and looked at Phil. He wondered if Phil chose the song on purpose.

“Oh sorry did you wanna sleep? I can turn it off-”

“S’fine,” Dan interrupted, “but what are you playing?”

Phil tried to hide his joy. That was the most he’d heard his best friend speak at once in the past few days.

“It’s my road trip playlist!” he responded excitedly.

People say that your dreams are the only things that save ya Come on baby in our dreams, we can live our misbehaviour

Dan grunted in what he hoped Phil understood as an approval before facing away from him again. He leaned against the window, staring blankly at the cars passing by. He thought about how his dreams could save him, if only they were attainable.

Dan had zoned out after that, liking the buzz in his head more than the song forcing him to be self-aware. But as Phil slowed into a driveway, he tuned back into the present.

“What d’ya wanna get?” Phil asked, stopping behind a queue of cars.

Dan looked around and realised that Phil had entered a McDonalds drive-thru.

Dan shrugged, “Anything.”

Dan knew that Phil knows Dan’s go-to order at McDonalds anyway. And Phil knew that Dan knew that, but he was just trying to get Dan to talk.

A few minutes later, Phil was shoving a big bag onto Dan’s lap. The aroma of the food did stir Dan’s stomach up. It growled as Dan salivated. The thing about sinking into the darkness was that even if he was hungry, he’d be too preoccupied with fighting against the demons in his head to realise. But with the food now right on his lap, he suddenly couldn’t wait to eat. He looked over at Phil.

Phil smiled at him, it was the first time that day that Dan’s gaze was more than just a blank, dead one. Phil thought he looked kinda cute all wide-eyed silently asking if he could eat.

“Go ahead! I’ll find somewhere to park first,” he said as he drove into the carpark.

Dan looked into the bag. Phil had gotten him a quarter pounder with fries and a milkshake. Just as he liked it. He grabbed a couple of fries and started munching on them first.

When Phil was parked, they took their food out and laid it out as best as they could on the dashboard.

“How come we used the drive thru just to sit at the carpark?” Dan mumbled.

“Well I thought you wouldn’t want to enter the place with the crowd in there and all...” Phil rationalised.

“You’re right,” Dan mused, “I wouldn’t have liked that. Thanks.”

Phil smiled, glad he did make the right choice. He started digging into his big mac, but kept a watchful eye on Dan to make sure he ate too.

Dan was still slowly munching on his fries. When he noticed that Phil was glancing over at him, he wordlessly offered Phil some of his fries.

“It’s alright, I got my own,” Phil said with his mouth still full.

But Dan insisted, bringing the fries in his fingers closer to Phil’s face. Phil’s giggle was stifled when the fries were pushed into his mouth. Phil smiled as he chewed, happy that his friend was slowly feeling okay enough to show affection again. Dan didn’t even seem bothered that his fingertips were caught between Phil’s lips.

Dan quite liked feeding Phil. He wasn’t sure exactly why, but he always got a sense of joy whenever he let his friend have a bite of his pizza, or fed him a forkful of pasta, or tilted his drink for Phil to take a sip. And it was nice to feel something other than emptiness as he fed Phil his fries this time.

Phil was aware how Dan liked to feed him when he was being in a cheeky mood. Dan didn’t seem to be doing this to be cheeky this time, but Phil was happy it’s happening all the same, and he’d accept however much food being fed to him to make his friend happy.

Dan alternated between eating his fries and giving some to Phil. He liked how Phil didn’t question him or make him stop, but just accepted his offer every time. When he eventually ran out of fries, he wiped his hand clean and looked out the window.

“You not gonna eat your burger?” Phil asked, wiping his mouth as he finished his own food.

Dan busied himself looking at a couple of kids laughing and running into the restaurant. Oh what fun it is to be young and free. He shook his head no.

Phil’s shoulders drooped a little. He’d thought that Dan was starting to feel better.

“’m full already,” Dan answered, “maybe later.”

“Okay,” Phil responded softly.

Phil started the car and slowly went out of the driveway. He drove aimlessly. He didn’t have a proper destination in mind, and he didn’t really care how long he’d have to drive or where they ended up as long as they were together and he’d have his Dan by the end of it. He saw the sign saying they were leaving Manchester, and decided to just continue driving south.

Phil’s road trip playlist started again, but the songs didn’t hit home as much as the first one, so Dan asked him to restart it.

People try and hide the light Underneath the covers

Dan stared out the window most of the ride. The weather was the opposite of his gloomy mood. The late afternoon sun was beaming down on them. He saw cows and sheep grazing lazily on the open fields. The clouds looked beautiful against the blue sky. For a fleeting moment, Dan let himself believe that life can be beautiful. He grabbed his milkshake, overwhelmed by the sudden thought. Perhaps the milkshake can give him a brain freeze that would numb him from overthinking for a while.

Now here's the sun, it's alright Lies, lies

Dan appreciated that Phil didn’t try to force a conversation out of him. Phil knew that he needed his space even while he needed someone to be there for him at the same time. He never thought anyone would get that, but Phil does. Phil understands him so well that it scares him as much as it comforts him sometimes. He sipped on his milkshake harder.

The song ended, Phil’s playlist moving on to a more upbeat pop song. Phil tapped along to the song on his steering wheel, humming at the chorus. Dan looked over at his friend. Phil seemed so content to just drive. Drive for no reason other than for Dan to clear his mind. Although it was his petrol and his time of day that Dan was wasting.

Phil looked back over just then, and smiled at Dan. Dan pursed his lips into a forced smile, even though he meant it in a genuine way. He just couldn’t understand why Phil would care for him this much.

“Why are you driving?”

Phil’s brows creased together. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why are you doing this? Don’t you have that assignment due soon? And your petrol-”

“Don’t worry about any of that Dan, you know I’m always here for you. I want to help you feel better, no matter what.”

Dan gulped. The sincerity in Phil’s voice scared him. He didn’t feel like he deserved such attention and care from anyone. He turned back to facing the road ahead. The unending path taking them to anywhere, nowhere. Taking them to wherever it is that Dan will supposedly feel better, before heading back.

Dan’s reaction worried Phil a little. He was afraid that Dan might’ve changed his mind about this road trip. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea all along, and Dan was just following along because he felt like he had to.

“We could always go back if you want?” Phil asked tentatively.

Dan looked surprised for a second, but he shook his head almost immediately.

“No, I like this. Thank you,” Dan murmured.

He wished he could show his gratitude better. Maybe when he felt better he’d repay Phil somehow.

“If you wanna go back at any time just tell me, alright?” Phil asked, still a little worried.

Dan nodded, proceeding to sip on his milkshake.

They fell into comfortable silence again. If only Dan’s mind could match the silence between them.

Dan started thinking about his latest episode and the main thing on his mind. A lot of times, his mood plummeted for almost no reason at all, but sometimes he’d have a clearer understanding of why it happened. Especially if his mind won’t stop reminding him about his main worry at the moment.

He stole glances at Phil. Phil, his roommate of 3 years since his first day of university. Phil, who quickly became his best friend. Phil, a year his senior who would be graduating in about a month. Phil, who had been by his side through everything he’d been through both good and bad.

He has no clue how he was going to survive his final year without Phil. Phil had been there for him through every breakdown he had in university. He’d quickly learned how to help Dan in such situations, and by now it’s like he knew just what Dan needed even if Dan didn’t know himself.

Pro-pro-pro-pro-pro-pro-pro-pro-pro-pro-paganda

Dan’s inner monologue was momentarily interrupted.

“How is this a road trip song?” he chuckled a little.

Phil didn’t care if it wasn’t an appropriate road trip song. If it made Dan laugh, even just a little, then it stays on the playlist.

“Okay I may not be the best at making playlists that follow the theme properly,” Phil giggled, “but I like this song!”

Dan can’t argue with Phil there, not when he looked so damn adorable with his tongue poking out as he giggled. He felt something flutter in his gut. Something he hadn’t felt in a while since he sank into his darkness. He can’t decide if he liked the feeling or not.

Dan can remember the times he’d felt the flutter in his stomach; there weren’t many before he met Phil. But with Phil, it could happen for the most random reasons and catch him off guard. Things that he never thought would affect him in the slightest would send the butterflies in his stomach into a frenzy whenever Phil did it. Like right now. All Phil was doing was laughing. He’d miss that laugh very much.

Two hours passed, and they reached Birmingham.

“I gotta go pee,” Phil said urgently as he exited the highway and drove to the nearest petrol station.

They both used the restroom and Phil refilled his car’s petrol. Phil got some snacks and drinks, and then he was ready to go off again. But before that, he had to check in on Dan.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked softly.

Dan actually was starting to crawl out of his dark hole, but Phil’s question made him feel like crying. He wasn’t sure if it was in a good way or not. He just wanted to adjust the stray fringe drooping across Phil’s forehead.

“Mhm,” Dan managed to answer.

“So you wanna go back?”

Dan looked at the time. It was only a quarter past five. They had plenty of time. He had plenty of Phil’s time to waste.

“Not yet,” Dan admitted quietly.

Phil smiled softly, “Okay, let’s go then. Oh, and please eat your burger Dan, it’s probably gone cold.”

Dan had almost forgotten he still had food left, but he wasn’t hungry, so he’ll save it for later.

Dan thought that Phil’s playlist was a mess. It had lots of pop songs mixed in with some indie and rock songs, and even an edm song or two thrown in for the hell of it. But it was rather endearing how Phil just put whatever he liked. Dan, on the other hand, would have to analyse every single lyric of every song, would have to feel the correct emotions as the song plays, for it to be put in his themed playlists. He wished he could give less of a shit like Phil for these kind of things that ultimately don’t matter as long as you’re having fun in the end.

But a few of the songs in there really made Dan think. And those were the only ones he would actually approve of being in a road trip playlist.

If at some point we all succumb For goodness sake let us be young Because time gets harder to outrun And I'm nobody, I'm not done

Phil observed how Dan gazed far out into the fields. He thought about how Dan’s mind must be running a mile a minute, just like Dan once told him when he got like this. He wished he could hear Dan’s thoughts, if only so he could learn what he needs and how to help him better.

Phil very much preferred the rambly Dan over the silent Dan when he goes through tough times. Even though Dan could ramble on and on endlessly, his monologues were always so profound and Phil was always blown away by his intelligence. He loved having deep conversations with Dan. He always learned something new about Dan, their friendship, or even random facts. And he felt special that Dan was willing to open up to him so much.

But Dan was in a quiet mood now, and he’ll respect that even if it was killing him to know what Dan was thinking.

He recalled the first time Dan had a breakdown in their room. Frankly, Phil was afraid because he really hadn’t known what he could do to help. He’d listened to his friend speak out all his worries that he’d bottled up, and tried to calm him down, but it took about a week for Dan to feel like himself again.

We all got old at breakneck speed Slow it down, go easy on me

Phil thought about how when he met Dan, the teen was so shy and reserved, but as they grew closer and older together, he got to know just how amazing, kind hearted and intelligent he is.

He started thinking about all the moments that they’ve shared over the years in university. Not just big events, but even little everyday moments. Things that don’t seem special when done with other friends were greatly cherished when it was with Dan.

He remembered how after Dan spent the night crying over his overdue assignment that caused his first breakdown, he’d ordered McDonalds for their supper. Dan hadn’t eaten the entire day, and still refused to eat. Phil wasn’t sure what Dan would like, so he just ordered randomly. A quarter pounder with fries and a milkshake. They’d sat on their floor, Dan slowly eating his food while Phil talked animatedly about the squirrels and pigeons he saw on the way to campus. Just going on and on about trivial matters in the hopes of making Dan smile.

And they’ve had plenty of late night suppers over the years. Not all sad of course. Most were actually times they stayed up playing video games. Some nights were spent celebrating little victories like completing essays or passing a quiz. Phil was an introvert himself who didn’t really enjoy going out partying all the time, so he was delighted to have gotten a roommate who felt the same and wouldn’t judge him for turning down a night out. While their coursemates celebrated the end of exams in clubs, Dan and Phil would just have a quiet night in their room with a bottle of wine shared between them. Phil had quickly realised that he didn’t care about making more friends or hanging out with other people, he just wanted to be with Dan.

Phil thought about how they’d skip lectures just to hang out as if they don’t already see enough of each other in their room. How they’d sleep in after a movie marathon the whole night. How they’d mess up the entire pantry every time they tried to cook. How their study sessions in the library almost always ended up in some funny competition to get the other person to make a noise without getting caught. He was going to miss all those little moments, maybe even more so than the big events they went through together.

Phil can’t believe that 3 years with Dan flew by so quickly. He’d had some of the best times of his life with him, and they’d been through some of their toughest together. He sighed inaudibly when he realised just how much he’ll miss Dan when he graduates.

They soon drove past Slough. Phil wondered if they should stop by London, but Dan didn’t seem interested in stopping at all. Dan had dozed off for about half an hour, and when he got up his mood still didn’t seem to improve much. He did, however, start eating his burger.

Dan was peacefully eating but stopped when he realised they were in Slough.

“Please don’t tell me you’re driving me home,” he pleaded.

“No no I’m not,” Phil reassured him, trying not to read too much into how betrayed Dan sounded.

Cause it's cold outside, when you coming home Cause it's hot inside, isn't that enough

Phil loved going home. He was always homesick in university, that is until he met Dan. After Dan came into his life he still always wanted to go home of course, but less because he couldn’t cope living away from family and more because he was just always so eager to share with his family stories about him and Dan and their little adventures.

He’d even brought Dan home during a holiday once, because Dan didn’t want to go back to his own home and Phil couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Dan to spend his holiday alone in campus. His family had loved Dan, and even though Dan was nervous at first, Phil was happy to see how quickly he warmed up to them. Since then, Dan actually spent more holidays with Phil’s family than his own.

Phil never could quite empathise with Dan not liking going home. He did drive Dan back home for a holiday once, and Dan’s family seemed loving and welcoming. Dan had explained to him how his hometown was just filled with bad memories for him. Phil hoped that one day Dan would be able to overcome his past.

Dan visibly relaxed into his seat after Phil reassured him. He looked warily at the sign and the road exiting the highway and leading into his hometown. Dan recalled the first time he followed Phil home for the holidays, after much persuasion from Phil. His mom had sounded really upset over the phone when he informed her he wasn’t going home. But besides the guilt for upsetting his mom, Dan had had the most fun in years. He felt a lump in his throat as he thought about having to spend the holidays alone in campus after Phil graduates. He couldn’t possibly invite himself to Phil’s anymore, can he.

The evening sun gave off a beautiful golden gleam on the horizon. Through the side view mirror, Dan could see the golden hour making his skin glow, despite his eyebags and dark eye circles.

Fascination ends Here we go again

He turned to Phil. The sun brought out the colours of his eyes perfectly. Dan thought that Phil’s eyes were magical, with the way they seemed to change shades under the light. He even told Phil once just how mesmerising he found his eyes to be.

Phil would smile at Dan every time Dan turned to him. Dan took the moment to appreciate how the golden hues from the sun blended with the green-blue of Phil’s eyes. And then he realised that those eyes were looking back at his own tired, dull ones. Dan never imagined that he’d let himself look so disheveled in front of someone so perfect.

Dan decided to pay attention to Phil’s playlist instead of letting his mind fixate again. The beat of the music was throbbing.

I'm not in love I'm not in love I'm not in love

The already propulsive synths become unavoidably sweeping as the singer’s declaration sounds shakier each time he repeats it, as if it was getting harder and harder to convince himself the truth of the words he sang. Dan felt the singer’s emotional vulnerability in his bones, and it wasn’t helping him to stop fixating at all. In fact it did the complete opposite.

He’d never been in a relationship. Neither had Phil. It was a common topic between them - quiet conversations about how they both hope to find love one day. The kind of love that is unconditional, that won’t fade out but grow stronger as time goes on and they understand their partners better. But Dan wasn’t so sure that life could be such a fairytale. Who could love him unconditionally when he was so broken?

He recalled one conversation they had about what they looked for in a partner, and both of them listed characteristics that actually matched each other. Dan wasn’t sure if it was him overthinking that or if it was a coincidence, but Phil didn’t seem to connect the dots, so Dan had concluded that it was just him and repressed it.

And how was he meant to know what love felt like anyway? Were the butterflies in his stomach a sign or are those just short-lived feelings? Where’s the line that crosses between merely caring for someone and actually being in love with them and when do you know that you’ve crossed it?

He rubbed his eyes and wondered if being in love was meant to hurt.

Phil was alarmed when he turned to Dan and noticed that Dan was tearing up. One moment Dan was just gazing at him passively and the next it seemed that he was trembling slightly.

“You alright, Dan?” he voiced his concern.

Dan wanted to respond, but he knew that if he allowed himself so much as to say one word, he’d start bawling, or throwing up his burger. He swallowed thickly, forcing himself to nod his head.

Phil knew by now that Dan was lying, but he also knew not to push Dan too hard if he didn’t want to speak. He knew that Dan would tell him in time. So he just reassured Dan that he’ll be there to listen if Dan decides to talk.

Dan nodded again, turning to look out the window instead. He blinked furiously, not letting his tears fall. He watched the horses running along the fields to calm himself down.

Realisation is always the easy part. It’s the acceptance after that that is harder to conquer. Denial would be more tempting, but Dan knows that won’t be good for him in the long run. He’d burst eventually; all his bottled up emotions will overflow as regret takes over and he could no longer deny his feelings.

But how was he to accept? Deep down, he knew that he’d realised long ago, and that he was quietly in denial all along. Because what other option does he have?

Phil only had a month left before graduating. Before packing up all his stuff in their room and moving out to start the new chapter in his life. And leave this chapter behind, with Dan in it.

Dan had trouble enough accepting that his best friend was leaving soon, how was he supposed to accept the fact that he had feelings for him? And how was he supposed to admit it if the feelings weren’t mutual?

We are not in love We are not in love We are not in love We are not in love

Actually Dan wasn’t sure if it was mutual or not. Sometimes he would catch Phil looking at him in a way that Dan can’t find the words to describe, but it would make his heart skip a beat. Their friends always turned heads whenever Phil invited Dan to his home for the holidays. Phil would almost always rather be with Dan than anyone else, even if he’d already spent the entire week alone with him, but Dan doesn’t know if it’s because he’s just being nice to him or if he’s that introverted. Dan wasn’t able to discern if Phil was just a super caring friend or if he went out of his way for Dan all the time because he actually loved him back. Where is that line?

But the nasty thought at the back of his mind told him that he’s overthinking all those little moments. There’s no way Phil could love him back, especially when he’s more often a burden than a friend. Like right now, when Phil could be resting or completing his assignment, but he’s out here doing the best he can to help Dan feel better instead.

Dan looked at the road signs. They were only less than an hour away from Brighton. He wondered what Phil would do next to help him once the road ends. He needed to start feeling better, for Phil’s sake.

When they reached Brighton, Phil drove to a less touristy part of the beach and parked.

“Let’s get ice cream,” he said, his smile reaching his eyes.

When Dan didn’t answer immediately, Phil tried again.

“C’mon, we gotta at least get out and stretch!! We’ve been cooped up in here too long.”

So Dan agreed, and his knees cracked as he stood up outside the car. Phil stretched his arms and sides, sighing in contentment.

They could hear the waves and smell the salty waters of the English Channel. The sun was going lower on the horizon, the golden hour making the seaside even more beautiful than the plains.

Dan quietly followed Phil to the nearest ice cream shop. Phil walked so close that their hands brushed, and even as Dan blushed, he could tell that Phil didn’t care. 

The look on Phil’s face when he got his ice cream was almost enough to make Dan forget his plight. Phil’s smile was contagious, and Dan found himself smiling a little as well while they walked to a quieter part of the beach to enjoy their ice cream.

Phil plopped himself down on the pebbles, and Dan sat a little more gracefully. Phil sighed happily. It took him little to be happy. All he needed was his best friend by his side, a good ice cream and the beautiful sunset as the waves crashed in front of them. He licked his salted caramel ice cream.

When he turned to Dan, to no surprise, Dan was offering him his ice cream. Phil smiled and tasted his friend’s strawberry ice cream before letting him taste his too. Phil’s smile faltered a bit when he realised just how much he’s going to miss peaceful moments like this with Dan. He had to cherish them while they last.

“Feeling better?” Phil checked in again.

“Yup,” Dan said honestly. Now that his mind was clearer on what’s been bugging him recently and now that he’d accepted his feelings, he did feel better. He felt like he didn’t need to numb his emotions anymore. He was free from his dark hole, if just for this moment.

“That’s good, I’m glad the road trip worked,” Phil said cheerfully.

Dan felt a somewhat bittersweet feeling. The crashing of the waves and the seagulls above them were the only sounds breaking their peaceful silence. A couple of people strolled by occasionally, and there were some kids running along the coast with their dogs. Dan thought about how fortunate he was, that he could be anywhere in the world with anyone, but fate placed him with Phil watching the sunset by the beach. He did not want to think about how different his life and his university experience would’ve been if Phil didn’t end up as his roommate.

“Thank you,” Dan said in a small voice.

“It’s alright,” Phil smiled as he ate the last bit of his ice cream cone. He scooted closer to his friend.

“I’m not just talking about the road trip, or the ice cream,” Dan explained, sensing that Phil didn’t quite understand.

Phil tilted his head a little, indicating that he’s listening for Dan to continue.

“Thank you, for driving all the way here. For always being so patient and understanding with me, and dealing with my shit. Even if you don’t get why I think certain things the way I do, like how a drive could help me, you still do them anyway for me. You didn’t have to waste your money or time but you’re so selfless like that and just. Thank you.”

Phil was caught off-guard. Dan did show him appreciation whenever he helped him out of his episodes, but he never really said it with such raw emotion before. Dan’s voice cracked, wavered as he spoke. Phil wanted to say that it’s fine, he was always more than happy to help, but Dan wasn’t done.

“Thank you for. For knowing what I need when even I don’t know what I need. I don’t know how you do that. And thank you for all the times you stood by me when you could’ve gone to your other friends, and for never leaving me alone. For-”

“Dan, your ice cream,” Phil interrupted.

Dan’s ice cream was melting down his fingers, but he didn’t care. 

“Thank you for making me feel. When I feel nothing at all, when I’m too numb, you just show up and be you and I feel alive again?” Dan wasn’t even sure if he’s making sense now.

His vision was blurring. He’d spent countless nights with Phil just talking about how he felt all the time, but he’d never really spoken at length about just how much he appreciated Phil. Phil deserved to know what an amazing friend he is, and Dan was now frustrated for not letting Phil know it enough. But he felt vulnerable as he continued speaking, like he’s finally opening all of himself up for Phil to see.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you, Phil,” Dan whispered into his melted ice cream, trembling as he finally let his tears flow free.

“Oh Dan...” Phil whispered, quickly wiping the ice cream off Dan’s messy hand with a napkin.

He then pulled his shaking friend into a tight hug, bracketing his legs around Dan’s thighs and effectively removing any space between them.

“You’ve grown so much in the years I’ve known you, and I know that you’re gonna do just fine,” Phil rubbed his hand on Dan’s back as he spoke into Dan’s ear.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” Dan’s voice cracked again.

Phil tucked Dan’s head under his chin. Dan fisted at Phil’s shirt as he let his tears fall onto Phil’s chest.

“I’m gonna miss you too, more than you imagine,” Phil started tearing up too.

“But it’s alright, Dan, because we still have a month before I graduate,” Phil said as he pulled away from Dan and lifted his chin so he could look him in the eyes, “And I’ll never forget you or leave you behind after uni.”

Dan looked up and saw nothing but sincerity and certainty in Phil’s eyes. He almost dared himself to believe that nothing would change after Phil was done with uni. But he knows that that’s impossible. Especially if he tells Phil his true feelings.

He was still afraid of how Phil would react. This could ruin everything they had, but Dan was willing to take the risk. He’d gone too many sleepless nights just thinking and denying and bottling up everything about how he felt for Phil. He reckoned that now more than ever was a good time to admit it and then seek closure no matter the outcome.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Dan whispered almost bitterly.

“Why not?” Phil knitted his brows.

“Because.”

Phil patiently waited. Gave Dan time to voice out what he had in mind. He gently carded his hand through Dan’s matted curls.

Dan breathed in deep. Phil running his hand on his scalp helped him calm down but also made him more afraid to continue speaking. It could possibly be the final touch of affection he’d ever get from Phil, and he wanted it to last.

When he couldn’t drag it out any longer, he dared himself to look Phil in the eyes as he said his next few words.

“Because I love you, Phil.”

Dan felt like a huge weight lifted off his shoulders, but felt his throat and chest tighten up at the same time. He felt free of the secret that’s been eating him up, but the seconds that passed waiting for Phil to respond were filled with dread. He wanted to look away, too ashamed of possibly ruining their friendship, but he couldn’t because Phil’s intense gaze was locked on to his.

As Dan spoke those words with such a painful honesty in his voice, Phil felt as if his heart stopped. He’d never imagined Dan ever saying those words to him. He always thought that he’d been overreacting when things Dan did made his breath hitch, or his stomach come alive with butterflies. He always thought Dan was just super affectionate and would be the same with other friends too. He always liked to think he was special, even if he knew he wasn’t.

But now that Dan has said it, it confirmed that his gut feelings were right after all. All those times he refused to admit to himself that he may be falling for his roommate suddenly seemed so silly. The pain in Dan’s eyes made it seem like he had been so afraid of admitting this, as if he was expecting Phil to run away in disgust. Phil wanted to fix that immediately.

“Oh my god, Dan, I never thought you’d feel the same.”

Dan blinked, not sure if he heard Phil right. There’s no way Phil felt the same for him. The setting sun made the gold-blue of Phil’s eyes glisten beautifully and Dan watched as tears slowly start to fall down Phil’s cheeks, mirroring his.

“I love you too, Dan. There’s no one I’ve ever cared for as much as I do for you,” Phil said brokenly, trying to breathe properly through his crying.

Dan was still in a state of shock. He let himself be wrapped by Phil’s arms as he took in Phil’s words. He was prepared to be left at the beach by a repulsed ex-roommate. But here he was instead, loosely hugging Phil’s waist while being in Phil’s warm embrace.

“You...?” was all Dan answered.

“Yes, Dan, I wasn’t ever gonna say it because I thought you never felt the same,” Phil said, laughing a little at how silly that sounds now.

Phil couldn’t stop crying from joy, he didn’t even know he could cry from happiness this much. He hugged Dan tighter, never wanting to let go.

Dan shook his head in disbelief. Slowly, his lips turned up into a smile. And for the first time in a while, he smiled a genuine smile, finally feeling truly happy.

“The whole week... it was because of this?” Phil said, pulling back from the hug but holding onto Dan’s shoulders.

“...yeah, I’m in love with you but I didn’t want to ruin the friendship we already have,” Dan admitted, finding it so easy to say it now that Phil’s said it too. He felt like he didn’t ever want to stop saying it now.

“I can’t believe we’re like this,” Phil laughed.

Dan laughed too. In hindsight, they both know each other so well already, so they should’ve seen this coming. They should’ve known and trusted their instincts, but who would’ve known that they were both too scared to admit the same thoughts all this while.

They sat there laughing for a while, at how unreal it was that this was how they found out. That this was how they realised they were in love. And in love with each other. Sitting by the beach miles away from where they first met, in front of a beautiful sunset. All because Dan was too numb to feel after feeling too much.

“I promise you, Dan, I’ll never leave you. Not after graduation, not ever for as long as you want me by your side,” Phil said, cupping Dan’s cheeks and thumbing away the stray tears.

“Forever sounds good,” Dan whispered as he smiled up at Phil.

It felt like it happened in slow motion but too fast at the same time, when they both instinctively moved closer. Dan could feel Phil’s breath on his nose but his mind barely had time to register what was happening before he was closing his eyes and feeling Phil’s lips against his.

Dan squeezed Phil’s waist as they kissed. He felt his heart soar right out of his dark abyss. Phil’s hands never left his cheeks, and his lips felt like home. Dan found comfort in this strange sense of familiarity in the new beginning upon them.

Phil can’t count the number of times he’d wished he could kiss Dan on his hands. His heart was beating rapidly as he pressed his lips against Dan’s, he can’t believe he was finally getting his wish. It felt right, like they were meant to fit each other. Dan’s lips was soft against his, and he thinks that he could never get enough of it.

They pulled back when they needed air. Phil could finally see the life in Dan’s eyes again. The sun was almost completely set, but the last few rays it was leaving behind illuminated the hazel in Dan’s eyes. Phil thought that he looked absolutely beautiful, wet cheeks and all.

Dan’s mind was still running a mile a minute, but with all good thoughts now. He wondered what this now means for them, where they’d be headed from now on. But they would figure things out. He knew they’d be by each other’s side through anything just like they’d always been, and that’s all that matters.

“Are we going back now?” he asked, feeling Phil’s breath against his lips.

“We’ve only just got here, we’ve got time,” Phil said, unable to contain his smile.

songs featured from Phil’s road trip playlist:

Rebellion (Lies) - Arcade Fire

Propaganda - Muse

Wetsuit - The Vaccines

Not In Love - Crystal Castles

(in order, new song after each line break except Propaganda)

-

do tell me what you think! :) maybe I could try venturing into more non-smut, or maybe I should stick to smut only lmao

[atinyfeels]

SK: He cheats on you

Members: Chan, Minho, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix Masterlist

Chan:

You swallowed hard, staring at the sight of your boyfriend covering your naked best friend behind him in your bed. You didn't know what to do, cry? yell? What would you say? "I trusted you!" "Are you serious?" A million thoughts ran through your mind but none of them clicked. Instead, you shook your head and turned around to walk out.

"It didn't mean anything!" chan shouted quickly.

You stopped and sighed, "clearly, neither did our relationship.

"Can't we talk about this?" he pleaded, his accent sounding clearer.

You shook your head, "your actions did enough of the talking."

Minho:

You made your way to the boy's practice room, only to find Changbin and Hyunjin peaking through the window with unsatisfied expressions. Curiously, you walked over and attempted to look over their shoulders but failed.

"What are we looking at?" you whispered in Hyunjin's ear making them both jump and cover the window.

"Y/N!" Hyunjin shouts nervously, "you're early."

You nod and raise the lunch box, "I bought Minho lunch, now, what are we looking at?"

"Nothing!" They say in sync.

You roll your eyes and push them out of the way, "You perverts, I told you to stop spying on—"

You stopped as soon as you peeked through the window to find your boyfriend with his lips locked with a trainee’s. It was obvious they weren't going to pull away any time soon. With her arms around his neck and his hands on her cheeks, there was no doubt. You turned around and glanced up at the boys then down at the floor.

"I guess that's my queue," you whisper before hyunjin pulled you into a hug.

Hyunjin:

It was rare for either of you to have a night where it was just the two of you. So when you finally did, he didn't hesitate in taking you out. You crossed your legs and sat politely across from your boyfriend.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," he says, standing up and pecking your cheek before leaving.

You smile and watch him leave before going back to eating. After a moment alone, someone sat across from you, making you look up to find a girl looking at you with a disgusted look.

"So, this is his side chick," she says scanning you with her eyes.

You furrow your eyebrows, "I beg your pardon?"

"I beg your pardon," she mocks in a high pitched tone, "listen, stay the hell away from my boyfriend."

"Ah," you whisper, realizing what was going on, "listen, I get that you're a fan but we're kind of on a date."

"Oh my god, I'm not a fan, he's my—" she was cut off almost immediately, "Jisoo."

"Oppa!" she cheers standing up and clinging onto your boyfriend who stood by the table surprised, "Who's this girl?"

"Just a friend Jisoo," he mumbled staring at you with an apologetic look as you scoff and look down at your food, "Y/N, this is my girlfriend Jisoo."

"Nice to meet you," you mutter standing up and collecting your purse before leaving.

Jisung:

Awkwardly, you played with your fingers under the table as the members of Stray Kids talked amongst themselves. You glanced up at your boyfriend, who was fixated on his conversation with Minho's friend he brought along with.

"Hey," Minho whispered across the table, making you look up, "you look really cute."

You blush and softly smiled, "thank you."

He opened his mouth to speak but Jisung cut him off, "I'm gonna take Jisoo home."

You and the rest of the boys quickly looked up at him as they stood up.

"I can do it," Minho says, glancing at you and then the younger member.

Jisung shook his head, "I've got it."

"But what about Y/N?" Minho asked.

"Oh, right, can you take her home?" He asks before leaving with the other girl.

Moments later you found yourself and Minho following the pair to the outside of Jisoo's apartment. This was silly, you trusted Jisung enough to walk another girl. Your mind went blank all together as you watched your boyfriend attach his lips to hers. Your eyes widen at the sight as your heart dropped.  Minho covered your eyes in hopes you didn't see, but he knew you did.

"Come on," he whispered, grabbing your wrist and taking you away from the scene.

Felix:

It reminded you of something from a teen romance or a drama. You and Seungmin walked into a small diner by JYP's second building only to find your boyfriend with another girl, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Seungmin looked down at you before grabbing ahold of your wrist and taking you over to the couple.

"Felix," Seungmin speaks up, making the two of them look up at you, "Is this a joke?"

Felix sighed and removed his arm from the girl, "go home Y/N."

"Y/N go home?" Seungmin asks in disbelief, "why not your little toy go home?"

"God, you both are so stupid," the girl groaned, "isn't it obvious he doesn't like you? You're just for fun and to waste some time. Got it?"

Seungmin rolled his eyes, "I'm pretty sure the two of us combined is still 10 times smarter than you if you think he'll stick with you."

"Four months strong," she smirked.

Felix rolled his eyes, "take your girlfriend home Seungmin."

"Even if she was my girlfriend, I'd still treat her a hell of a lot better than you did," Seungmin snaps before walking out with you.

[chrysaliseuro2019]

Monopoli 2

Next day we started off the day with Alessandro again as we had extended for one more night and had to pay him. He is a very pleasant guy. Still at uni, very smart, laid back, great English and a handsome boy. Obviously also appreciates the finer things in life given his restaurant recommendations which he was pretty passionate about.

Our plan for the day was to head to Polignano a Mare. Post breakfast Liz was feeling tired so wanted to grab another hour’s sleep. Good opportunity for me to check out the cathedral which she had seen the previous night. I also tried on the shoes we had seen the previous day, this time with my orthotics but wrong size. Shame because they were on sale and very reasonably priced. And looked good😥.

The cathedral was very interesting and pretty stunning if you like your grandiose marble columns. And I do. There were also very good paintings and a number of different chapels each of which had a story which was well described in English in the short, paper guide.

The site has been continuously occupied for at least 4000 years with huts built on it in the Bronze Age. A pagan temple was located on the site and in 256AD a Christian church was built in its place so changing religious approach accommodated.

Construction commenced on the original church on this site in 1107 but they did not have wood for roof beams. In 1117 a raft arrived in the harbour carrying a Byzantine icon of the Madonna with child (which really stands out as you wander around the church it is really lovely). Beams from the raft were used to construct the roof of the church. Some of these beams are preserved and can be seen in the appropriately named “Chapel of the Beams”. Wiki describes the events of 1117 as a miracle. Unsure if that is in the biblical or fortuitous sense. Apparently the church also took over 300 years to build. Funds must have been tight. In 1742 the old Romanesque church which was unsafe was demolished and the current baroque church built.

It was now midday and the church was closing with just a few visitors left. I managed to hang on for another 7/8 minutes and was the last to leave. Pretty soon after, Liz called and we headed for Polignano.

Polignano had been recommended both by the Maitre de we liked in Vieste and Alessandro so we were determined to go there. It might even be a loose possibility to spend a night at it if it scrubs up really well. We certainly wondered if we should have headed there and spent one less night in Monopoli. Alessandro said we must visit the Pescaria restaurant which serves various varieties of seafood, in rolls etc. He said it was so successful that they had opened up a second one in Milan. His advice was -just look for the crowds lined up outside and you will know you are there.

Just a short 20 minute drive or so to Polignano. We parked up close to town. Took our bathers as mid thirties but felt like 40 and town right by the sea. Walked past the Roman ruins to get into town and immediately saw a small cove which was the town beach. It was very crowded and really a mousetrap with say 250-300 people on it and many in the water surrounded by cliffs. We weren’t tempted to go in. We did do a “Where’s (the) Wally” photo with me trying to blend into the throng.

We just stood and watched this hubbub for a while. Young macho guys and girls jumping and diving into the water from the surrounding rocks and generally everyone trying to tone up their tans. Noise was pretty loud too. A fun place.

We retreated into town looking for the Pescaria and it was easy to find. A queue outside and in. We had to have lunch and could not go past this place given its local fame. The wait was probably 50 minutes+. Thirty mins to get into the place and order and another 20 to collect it. There were tables and chairs inside and out but it was mayhem and we had seen some benches under trees on the main drag and took our lunch to there. I had a prawn roll which Liz also shared a bit of and she had a slider with prawns. Both excellent and it would be great to be able to get that in Melbourne. The whole experience of queuing, anticipating and the general boisterousness of the place was worth seeing and food good too.

PS - we were amused that waiters came out with trays of food yelling out the number of each order. This right amidst the bedlam of people eating and waiting to be served and conversing (as Italians do - loudly) the old electronic approach where they give you a token which then beeps when food is ready would have been better.

Off for a walk around the old town and as ever in this part of the world a number of narrow streets and picturesque buildings. We dropped into a few shops along the way though no acquisions. Our general feeling - good place to visit for a short while but we pulled the right string with Monopoli. Damned a little with faint praise and definitely worth a visit but wouldn’t stay there.

Now around 4.30 and we headed for home but looking out for a beach. Still very hot. We found one just outside Monopoli again a small, perhaps tiny, cove. We both soon had a swim to cool off. Liz throwing in a relaxed and lazy 200 metres or so of enviably stylish and relaxed freestyle and general floating. Stepping out of the water loose as a goose.

Me, 20 metres of a tad more frenetic doggie paddling after which it was time for a stroll around the nearby cliffs. These were a bit more like those volcanic areas of Victoria by the beach with very sharp rocks which were the result of volcanoes 14 billion years ago.

Any way after 20 minutes or so I returned to find Liz chortling away. An Italian mother with two twins aged about 2 was trying to control these two little tikes who it would be fair to say did not want to be controlled and at age 2 in true Italian style had attitude. Curly black locks they were gorgeous with full moon round faces. Mama was struggling to cope. She was determined to let them stick their toes in the water but not much more as she clearly thought they might drown. This meant she stood in their way if they tried to get too far in ie more than a metre from the sand which was about 6 inches in depth. This though meant that they needed other mischief to create. They would run up and throw sand on their towels which also set mum off. Of course if she ran up and admonished whoever did it the other one would head for the water which meant she had to belt down and guard them and the whole scene repeated itself endlessly with the only constant a frazzled mum and mischievous kids.

It was hilarious and the central culprit of the twins was “Angelo”. We never discovered the other one’s name as mum never used it so he became Angelo 2. All we heard was “Oh Angelo, Angelo”. As a little cameo couple of hours we could not have had much better value. Lovely little beach, great temperature, sandy cove, Angelo and brother in top mischievous form and their behaviour contrasting totally with the little Asian boy who was with Grandma. He was as tranquil as could be and was allowed to go in the water close to the rocks and play and then stood up very calmly on a rock in the sea as grandma changed him ready to leave. Great fun and a minor study in different behaviours plus the gorgeous Angelo twins. Time for us to head home.

Post showers the evening started again at the city square for a quiet drink and people watch and then we looked around for a restaurant in one of the back streets away from the crowd. We had seen a couple on our lost wandering of town. Of course weren’t really sure where they were and could not find one that suited. Either too boisterous or cafe rather than restaurant.

Back we went to the centre of town and then headed in the general direction of one of Alessandro’s recommended pizza places. The one we could not get into a couple of nights earlier (Chine). In truth we didn’t expect to be successful this time either. Well we were lucky. A table outside was free with about a 10 minute wait. No prob. I ducked back to the car which was parked nearby to collect something and by the time I returned Liz was seated. We ordered Napoletana style pizza with olives, anchovies, capers, mozz and some spicy salami. No prob but we then had at least a 45 minute wait. When it rolled up it was worth the wait. Fantastic ingredients, really tasty crunchy crust and something I have never had before - Anchovies served in a tin which we added ourselves to the pizza.

We both agreed that it was arguably the best pizza we had ever eaten. Well done Alessandro again.

It had been yet again a big and varied day.

[bnha-hcs]

hello!! could i request bakugou noticing his crush doesn’t eat lunch/snacks throughout the day and one day he decides to either gives her or tries to secretly sneak a bento on her desk? thanks!

ldksjflk this is such a cute idea anon thank you ahhhh

Also I made myself a Ko-fi so if you guys like my work and can’t commission me, you can at least throw a few dollars my way if you want! And if you buy me a little ko-fi I’ll doodle a bnha character for you! The link is here –> 

( ; w ; )

After weeks of observing you, one crucial thing that Bakugou had noticed about you is that you didn’t eat like, ever. For a while he noticed that you weren’t eating lunch and thought maybe you were dieting or something. More than anything he just assumed you ate snacks during breaks and that you felt like you didn’t need to eat as much. But then he started to notice that you just weren’t eating at all. He knew it wasn’t because of your quirk either and even though he felt like it wasn’t really his problem to worry about, he found himself letting it bother him.

Bakugou was not an idiot. He already knew he liked you and he already knew that he didn’t care or want to care, but something about this was so irrational to him. Even if you couldn’t afford lunch you could at least get a few snacks for throughout the day. He was even bothered by the fact that it bothered him. He was just… BOTHERED.

So today he had managed to make you a bento himself. And he’d be damned if you didn’t eat it. He even came in early today just to put it on your desk and then run off to hang out somewhere else. After more people started to show up in the classroom he finally appeared back in the classroom to make his big debut for the day. He ignored everyone and went to sit down in his chair, nonchalantly listening in on the flurry of conversations. Although, he only cared for the one you were currently partaking in.

“I just came in and it was there, just sitting on my desk.” You said gesturing to the bento sitting in your lap. Uraraka clasped her hands together, eyes practically sparkling.

“A secret admirer maybe??” She suggested, eyebrows wiggling at you.

“Oh please! Who would like me?” You said a little exasperated. “I guess I’ll be eating this for lunch.”

“I mean, it’d be a waste if you didn’t eat it. And if someone worked hard on it…” Uraraka trailed off with a giggle. You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“I don’t have a secret admirer!”

The bell for class cut you short and you were forced to retreat to your seat, tucking the lunch under your desk for now. Bakugou could feel his cheeks heating up a little thinking about how lunch would go and what your reaction would be to his home made food for you. It’d be a miracle if he would be able to concentrate on anything today.

Eventually, lunch rolled around and Bakugou allowed himself to trail behind you and the others. He slowly lost track of you for a bit after everyone started to queue into the cafeteria. He had gotten his own lunch after a good bit and sat down a little ways off from you with Kirishima and Kaminari. The two had already struck up a loud conversation and it took everything in Bakugou’s body not to yell at them to shut up so he could hear your reaction. If he did, then that’d certainly blow his cover.

When everyone had settled down and started to dig into their meals you started to open the bento. You weren’t really sure what you were expecting but it definitely wasn’t this. And it wasn’t like it was bad or anything, it was just… too nice?? It looked so pretty that you didn’t even want to try and eat it. Though, the second you took a bite it was almost like you had seen a revelation. Tears were in your eyes and you had to take a second to appreciate your food.

“What’s wrong (Y/n)? Is it bad?” Uraraka asked you, pausing from her own meal.

“No it’s the exact opposite.” You hummed, eyes closed in contentment. “It’s soooo good!”

“Well I’m sure your secret admirer would be happy to know that you’re enjoying it.” She replied back at you, giving you a look. You almost choked on your food.

“I almost forgot…” You mumbled. “Maybe I can find them later after school and thank them.”

Bakugou was practically glowing with the amount of pride he was feeling right now. Damn fucking right his food was delicious and now you knew it, too. Although, he didn’t think that’d he could reveal it to you that it was him. On second thought, maybe this whole thing wasn’t such a great idea. He’d never get his recognition if he didn’t tell you but then again he wasn’t sure if now was the best time to confess to you. Maybe another day… But would you even believe him at that point if he waited too long to tell you? Great, now he was stuck.

When lunch was over he just decided that he didn’t care, and that he didn’t need you to find out that it was him anyways. Bakugou had it deeply rooted in him that he didn’t need the recognition of anyone else, so who fucking cared if you knew or not? He already knew it himself. But the rest of the day seemed to zoom by. Afternoon classes were as boring as ever and even though he was barely paying attention he still got all the questions directed towards him correct.

During the last break he heard you and Uraraka talking again, though he didn’t care to listen this time. Well, he acted like he didn’t care to listen. Though, he subconsciously found himself listening in anyways.

“I don’t know what to do about the box. I already washed it out in the bathrooms and since it’s such a nice box I don’t want to just keep it.” You sighed looking at the little gold designs littered over the sleek container.

“Then just leave it here. I’m sure whoever it is will come back to take it.” Uraraka said.

“Ah, yeah. I suppose that works, too.” You hummed.

Bakugou frowned that you didn’t want to keep the box but understood anyways. You were too nice for your own good sometimes and it was that fact that had him smitten with you to begin with. You were always nice to him even though he never seemed particularly pleasant with you about 90% of the time. Honestly you had the patience of a saint to be able to keep a level head with him.

When the day ended Bakugou stayed behind, playing on his phone with a bored expression, waiting for everyone to leave. This included you, and no one really suspected him of anything because if they asked, more than likely they’d just get chewed out by Bakugou himself. So everyone left him alone as they filed out of the classroom. You had said goodbye to him as per usual, leaving him to throw you a glare.

“Just leave already so I don’t have to look at your stupid face.” He snapped at you.

You had just shrugged and just made your exit afterwards. Bakugou took it as his cue to walk over to your desk and pick up the bento box. He slammed his backpack on the desk and started to shift the things around in his bag so it would be able to fit in there. Just as he had started to try and shove the damn thing in there you had suddenly reappeared in the doorway, stopping immediately upon seeing Bakugou with the box.

“Eh?” You had squeaked out before quickly pointing a finger at him. “Bakugou, you-!”

“Oi! Don’t you-” He was cut off as you tried to make a hasty exit, blush spilling over your cheeks once you had realized what you had witnessed.

Without a second thought he had taken off after you. Three things were about to happen if he caught you. One, he was going to lecture you about eating, two, he was going to begrudgingly confess to you, and three, he was going to warn you that if you told a soul that he’d kill you himself. And there was no way he was going to let you get out of this…

[emouradian]

The Vatican

It was generous of Rome, I suppose. My very first trip to Italy’s capital, and to provide me with the most authentic experience possible, Rome felt like it was actually burning. Every moment of the three days I spent there was like walking on coals. Across the sun. Wearing aluminum foil. I mean, it was hot.

The locals nicknamed the heatwave Lucifer, after the FOX TV show about the devil partnering with a female detective to solve crimes (and maybe – fall in love!). Or perhaps it was named after the devil him or herself (#feminism) because it was absolutely the temperature of pure evil.

My Vatican excursion, and my time in Italy as a whole, was about midway through a 6-week solo trip across Europe. I had just been laid off from my job, had a small but not unexciting cancer scare and had moved back to New York to help my mother sell her house after my dad’s recent death (which is a better narrative than I moved back home because I was homeless and jobless). I took my generous severance and like the good millennial I am, decided to blow most of it on THE TRIP OF A LIFETIME. 

I looked around at the state of my life: Single and in my mid-thirties, I had no real-life responsibilities other than the crippling debt I had come to know as a friend and life partner. Rebecca, the name I gave my debt monster in my late twenties, would certainly be waiting for me upon my return to keep me warm during all my most visceral debt-induced panic attacks. Plus, with no job prospects to speak of, and no real urge to start the arduous process of job hunting, it was time to Eat, Pray, Shlub through Europe. Basically, at thirty-six years old, I finally took my gap year.

My plan was simple: I’d just go to The Vatican, pay whatever I had to skip the line and zip through the whole thing in thirty minutes, forty if the gift shop had Pope Pun t-shirts (Snap, Crackle, POPE; A picture of The Pope in his Popemobile that said: My Other Ride Is Your Mom). I’d be getting yelled at for drinking espresso on the Spanish Steps by lunch.

I don’t like to brag but... being wrong about life choices, is kind of the defining characteristic of my overall personal brand. If two roads diverged in a wood, I’d somehow manage to climb the tree separating the two paths, get stuck up there and die of exposure. It’s just who I am, you guys. But in the lifetime of lefts that should’ve been rights, I’ve never been as wrong about anything as I was about The Vatican. Like all good horror stories, this was my “Let’s check out the abandoned camp” or “Let’s bone in the lake – no one’s around!” moment I would come to regret later.

By this point in my overall trip, I had achieved this odd mix of overconfidence in my ability to be a capital-T Tourist, with a nearly pathologically unreasonable disdain for tours, guides and waiting in line. Especially if that line was just a pre-line to get on line or even worse a queue before a line that led to a holding area before you could get in line. This sort of living purgatory happens a lot when you are traveling to the most touristy places on the planet. I get that. But as an Ugly American, I simply felt I should be able to get exactly what I wanted when I wanted it and if I couldn’t, throw money at the problem until I get my way. (I was not the best representation for our country during my time abroad, although I may have, sadly, been a fairly accurate one. For that I apologize. To the world.)

My smug confidence in my plan to zip in and out of The Vatican in roughly the amount of time it would take to watch the first two episodes of the new season of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt was bolstered by a successful trip on the Rome subway system. Well, maybe I’m being generous with the use of the word successful: As I left my hotel, I immediately walked up to a fully armed French soldier, frantically asking where the entrance to the subway was located. With a language barrier separating us he physically turned my body around to show the entrance to the train all of 15 feet away from me. From there on out, though, it was smooth sailing. I took this as a particularly good sign: 

When I got out of the subway I was just a few blocks away from The Vatican, and despite that, I arrived drenched in so much sweat I could have easily been baptized where I stood. I ducked and weaved past several aggressive guides trying to recruit me for their tours; I won’t fall for your shenanigans, mio amico. I actively felt bad for the tourists, trying to navigate the fast, smooth talking tour guides, fanny packs askew, cameras strapped to their chests. This isn’t my first rodeo, you charlatans! As I got closer and closer to the The Vatican, however,  the line to enter the building got longer and longer; I started to feel the first twinge of doubt about my ability to self-navigate a place visited by 20,000 people every damn day.

Seeing the disappointment crest over my face, a tour guide pounced. “You need a tour pass to get in,” he said quietly, calmly, like he didn’t need my business. He was Indian or Middle Eastern, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks, which I found comforting. I knew he must be baking in the sun, and this, along with the Vatican badge he sported, convinced me he was a bit more official.

“I just want to skip the line,” I responded, almost to myself, like a child quietly crying, trying to convince himself there are no monsters lurking under his bed.

“I can help you with that,” he shrugged. He said it in such a nonchalant way he made me think he was part of the actual Vatican team - whatever that meant - and not just another ravenous tour guide trying to make a sale. I held onto that belief as we sprinted down the block, I held onto that belief as we dodged cars as we crossed a busy intersection and I held onto that belief for the entire time I stood in a small windowless basement room getting signed up for the tour I was being sold. It’s a miracle I haven’t been murdered. 

I had forty-five minutes to kill, so I grabbed a pork cheek sandwich, washed down with several beers. After being defeated, tour-wise, I was helpless against the remarkably pushy saleswoman at a nearby clothing store. Before my years of retail work could snap me out of my daze I got talked into buying a pair of shorts I didn’t need, a button-down short-sleeved shirt that didn’t fit and a pair of swim trunks so short, they appropriately left no question about my religion.  

Pork cheek and Italian beer stuffed in my belly and unnecessary purchase stuffed into my backpack, I was now ready to be blessed. A crowd started to form under the six branches of shade the anemic tree outside the tour office provided. The excitement was palpable, and I could feel it split into three different categories: 1) Religious-based fervor about the holy place we were about to enter; 2) Excitement about seeing one of the most famous attractions in the world; 3) Elation about entering a room with air conditioning.

Now that it was time to start making our way back the few blocks to the Vatican, our tour guide assembled us to share a few rules, which sounded eerily similar to what you hear lawyers telling people about visiting family members in prison. I don’t recall the guide’s name, because I sweat that information out, along with my ability to do long division. I do remember that he was at least 150 years old and I kept wondering how I would go about getting my ticket off his body if he dropped dead. This trip took me to some dark places.

Just as I was about to hit send on a text message letting my family know that when I arrived back home, I’d be nothing more than a puddle of salty water, we arrived at the heavily guarded gates of The Vatican. Even though we were on the expedited line, it still took thirty minutes to cross the threshold into the room that would lead us through security and into the actual start of the tour. The lobby was stuffy and packed with people, herded like some meta interpretation of cattle-as-tourists-as-cattle. There we waited. And waited. And waited.

As you do in times of crisis, I attached myself to other survivors. In this case, a family of three - parents in their late-thirties and a three or four year-old child, sweaty and rightfully miserable in his stroller. By now it had been ninety minutes since entry, and I was trying to sow the seeds of rebellion into my compatriots: “We’ve been waiting here for a while.”

“Yeah, little man is getting tired,” the father said back to me, absently but not with the tone of annoyance I was trying to cultivate. To the kid’s credit, he wasn’t throwing a fit, just uncomfortable, and his cries were more like muffled sobs of someone resigned to their fate but not very happy about it.

“He’s just expressing how we are all feeling. I think it’s brave,” I said, almost catatonic.

“I’m sure we’ll be in soon. It’ll be worth it,” the mother said. I was stunned by her optimism and determination. I wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her: You fool! We are never going to leave this room! Don’t you see? Don’t you get it? We’re Vatican Lobby people now!  

Instead, I got angry, probably for the first time in the whole experience. I had been frustrated, and impatient, and hot – dear sweet heaven, it was hot - but this made me mad. Not at the woman, trying to cool down her son with precious elixir known as bottled water. Not at her husband, steely eyed but still eager to see the wonders that awaited beyond the security. I was mad because these people were there for a beautiful, powerful experience that deeply mattered to them. I noticed, for the first time, the crosses they all wore, glistening through sweat and waves of heat. This whole time I couldn’t fathom what would possess these seemingly normal people to weather this heat to take their kid on an excursion into a big building with art and religious artifacts. As a well-established quitter, there were five times I would’ve turned around and tried another day. To me, this was something to check off a list. Going to Rome, potentially for the only time in my life, I’d need to see The Vatican to say that I had seen The Vatican. Don’t get me wrong, I was excited – at least initially. But that excitement waned pretty quickly, as I became less a tourist and more a contestant in a co-ed Spring Break wet t-shirt contest for hairy men with man boobs.  These people were there for spiritual and holy reasons; this was a pilgrimage for them.  As someone who spent the last ten years trying to improve user and participant experience, I was offended that these people – and the thousands with them – weren’t getting an experience they deserved.

Just as I was ready to take a torch to the place, we started moving. Our tour guide, thankfully still alive, started handing out the tickets we needed to get through security. The other members of the tour swarmed him, and in a move that proves I would not survive any kind of Zombie Apocalypse, I let the family of three go ahead of me to get their tickets, even though I wasn’t entirely confident I wouldn’t be left without tickets, stuck in God’s literal waiting room. Once they had their tickets, however, I elbowed my way to the front and got my pass. I felt like a boy of thirty-three again! I was going to make it. We were going to get through this – together.

Only the second we made it through the security, my fight or flight instincts kicked in and I ran for it. The idea of standing around for the next three hours with this group of people and this old man who looked like a half-melted statues come to life, was too much for me. I took a last glance at the family of three.  Despite my urge to fight for their experience and the polite conversation we made, I’m certain my existence barely registered for them, but I felt a kinship with them in the story I was creating in my mind. I stretched out my hand, mouthed “Stay alive!” and ran up the stairs, hiding – I HID – from my tour. It had become clear to me that I had lost my mind.

Once I was sure the tour had passed, I found the closest information desk and asked: “What is the fastest way to see everything?” I was handed a map and a look of disgust, and was on my way.

The next two hours were both a blur and happened in super slow motion. There were so many people in this sarcophagus of a building that I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I abandoned the audio tour within the first 10 minutes; it could still be under the oddly attractive statue of the guy with the dog for a head. Every way I moved I bumped into people – and was it just me or was it getting even hotter? Could they have air conditioning in The Vatican? And where was the Pope? I was told there would be a Pope! How was the family of three doing? Would I ever see my mom again? Should I re-watch Veronica Mars? My mind couldn’t stop.

As I descended further into madness, a single thought snapped me out of it. I realized why this kind of oppressive human smog and sensory overload was so familiar and unsettling: It was just like being at Ikea on a Saturday afternoon. And much like Ikea, there was only one way in and one way out. “The only way was through,” I actually said out loud to no one in particular. Steeling myself, I became determined to see The Sistine Chapel and get the hell out of there.

I began walking with more purpose, following the signs to the Sistine Chapel, which was never as close as promised (just like Swedish meatballs at Ikea!). I snapped a few pictures, mostly to take a look at later. I stopped and stared at some art and looked up to appreciate a ceiling or two. Cool cool cool cool cool – where’s the exit?

Now, months after my escape, I can’t remember if I descended higher and higher or lower and lower to reach The Sistine Chapel, but I finally got there. And it was… disappointing. Or maybe it wasn’t? I’m not sure because you couldn’t actually stop and look at the ceiling, which admittedly was beautiful. You had to keep going, keep going, keep going, like Dory from Finding Nemo. I didn’t think I’d be making comparisons to an Ellen DeGeneres-voiced cartoon character to describe seeing one of the most famous sites in the world, but here we are.

That feeling of anger began to wash over me again. I am not a very religious person, nor an art or history buff (I know, I’m the worst), but I am someone who likes a well-run and well-executed event. And this was neither. I kept thinking about that family or any religious person I knew, not just going to The Vatican because they were in Rome and “they should go”, but rather as a truly holy rite of passage. I may not share those views, but I do think they deserve an experience that reflects their devotion to the church. Maybe that family had a great time, maybe this filled their bucket, but if not, I have a strongly worded letter to the head of The Vatican (The Pope? God?) about some logistical and user experience enhancements.

Once I was prodded through The Sistine Chapel, all other thoughts left my mind other than Lakeith Stanfield screaming GET OUT. I felt like a rat trying to burrow through a man’s chest to survive in Game of Thrones. Yes, maybe that heat I was feeling was the flames of hell trying to suck me in because, well, I wasn’t being my most pious self. And yes, I did make myself a rat burrowing through human flesh in that analogy, but that doesn’t make it untrue. Like any time I’ve ever been to Ikea, it was time to forget about everything that you cared about when you entered, fight the tourists and find the way out. 

I began to walk faster, now only snapping pictures of things while I was physically walking by them. Everywhere I went, I bumped into a German tourist, who seemed, to be blocking me. I wanted to scream: WHY DO YOU WANT ME TO STAY HERE? WHO ARE YOU WORKING FOR!?!?! It felt like days since I had seen the sun or felt the steaming hot gust of Roman air on my face. I wondered: Would I be different now? What had changed in the world? Do proper hover boards finally exist?

Thirty minutes later, I burst through doors and was free to leave… ooh the gift shop! I bought a few rosary beads for friends who would appreciate them, but alas no Pope shirt that had his face superimposed on a bunch of Emojis.

From there I walked briskly to what I knew would be doors leading to the outside. I was an inside person now, and worried that the daylight would burn on my skin after so long. When I arrived in the courtyard of St. Peter Basilica it took all my strength not to drop to my knees, arms stretched to the sky a la Andy Dufrense at the end of Shawshank Redemption.

I walked around St. Peter Basilica for a bit and headed to a pizza place I had read about. I stumbled in like a man out of the dessert begging for water. I ordered a local beer and the house special pizza. The pizza arrived perfect, beautiful, profoundly satisfying. 

It was the closest I felt to God all day.  

[fictionsofriverdale-blog]

Gone - Betty Cooper

“Could you please write a fic continuing from episode 10 if jughead ended up going to Toledo thankyou”

I wasn’t sure if you wanted this from Jughead’s point of view or Betty’s. I decided to go with Betty’s POV. This is a version of dark!Betty. 

I also want to say that I actually love Betty Cooper, but there is a lot of self-hatred in this fic, which is Betty hating herself, not me hating betty. 

Warnings: Eating Disorder Trigger Warning

Sinking to the ground, Betty sobbed uncontrollably. She had searched the town for her boyfriend, and come up empty. Archie and Veronica were helping, of course, but they didn’t have the same motivation that she did. She loved Jughead with all of her heart, and he was hurting, hurting because of something he thought she did. And maybe on some level, she let it happen, she was too weak to stop her mother, and she would never forgive herself for it. 

The last place Betty had searched was the trailer. She had hoped that he would be there, and she was ready to beg for his forgiveness, but the trailer was empty. It was cold and dark, and this is where Betty sat. On the floor, in the bathroom. She felt sick. He had left. He had really done it. Gone to Toledo to find his mother. To get away from her. Betty’s stomach contracted and she leant over the toilet bowl, emptying the contents of her stomach in one fell swoop.

She coughed violently, the act of vomiting tearing at her throat, and her lungs burning with every breath. Betty slumped against the side of the bath, allowing her tears to fall freely.

She didn’t know how long she stayed on the cold, tile floor, but her hands were beginning to shake. Without the energy to stand, Betty crawled across the small corridor and into Jughead’s bedroom. She sat on the floor, her head resting on Jughead’s mattress, and she fell into a fitful sleep.

One week had passed, and there had been no sign of Jughead. He hadn’t phoned, he hadn’t texted. And Betty hadn’t left her room. She blamed Alice for Jughead leaving, spitting hateful words at her whenever she could, no longer fearing Alice’s stinging retorts. But she hated herself more for not protecting him. She knew what her mother was like, but she naively thought that her mother had changed. How could she have been so stupid? Why should she get to wallow in misery? Betty decided, then and there, that she would force herself to go to school and face the world.

Standing from her bed, Betty’s vision swam slightly, and her hand shot out behind her to steady herself on the bed post. Once her vision cleared, Betty showered and dressed. Her clothes were slightly too big for her, hanging off her small frame. Pulling her hair into a too-tight ponytail and not bothering to put make-up on, Betty descended the stairs, clinging to the bannister as she went.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Alice remarked from the kitchen, “Your face looks tired and dull, go upstairs and put some make-up on, I don’t want anyone seeing you like this.”

“I’m going to school, and who the hell cares.” Betty deadpanned as she left the house and began the walk to school.

As Betty neared the school she slowed down and took a deep breath, looking up at the building and realising how intimidating it actually looks.

“Betts, you’re here! Are you okay?” Archie yelled as he ran up to meet her. Betty cringed at the nickname, memories of Jughead flying through her mind. She shook her head in an attempt to dislodge the thoughts and plastered a practised smile on her face as Archie reached her side. “where have you bee- whoa, you don’t look so good, are you alright?”

“I’m fine Arch,” Betty breathed out, exasperated and regretting coming to school already. She continued into the building and toward her locker, with Archie following half a step behind.

The day passed in a blur, Betty traipsed from one class to another, aware of people watching her, and some attempting to talk to her. By lunch time, Betty was exhausted, and she could feel loose strands of hair tickling the nape of her neck. Betty hadn’t moved from her desk in the biology lab and was startled from her daydream by Kevin who wrapped an arm around her shoulder and began to guide her to the cafeteria. Betty leaned into him, a single tear running down her cheek.

Kevin had been the only one, the only one of her so-called friends, who had not betrayed Jughead. She wiped the tear from her cheek, a motion that didn’t go unnoticed by her escort, who squeezed her shoulder.

“B, if you want to talk, I’m here for you. I know you are heartbroken right now, and it feels like the world is ending, but it’s not, I’m still here for you” he muttered as he stroked her upper arm. Betty nodded into the side of his chest, not daring to look into his eyes as she knew her tears would fall uncontrollably if she did.

Joining the queue for food, Kevin ushered her forward. “I’m not really hungry Kev” Betty murmured. Kevin frowned, taking in her smaller frame and her sleeves pulled down into her clenched palms. Betty followed his gaze and unfurled her hands, but as they trembled, she tightened them again. “Really Kev, I’m fine,” Betty said, with a finality that Kevin knew he couldn’t argue with.

After Kevin had filled his tray with food, they walked together to a table outside, where Archie and Veronica were talking in hushed tones. They fell silent as Betty and Kevin reached the table and sat down. Betty’s hands were in her lap and her eyes were fixed on her fingers. Archie, Kevin, and Veronica exchanged worried looks, and Kevin shook his head, defeated. 

Lunch was painful and seemed to last forever. Kevin kept nudging Betty and offering her bites of his lunch, and after refusing for most of the lunch hour, Betty gave in and ate a couple of over-cooked broccoli florets. Kevin beamed at his accomplishment, and Veronica and Archie fell back into their relaxed conversation.

Betty’s stomach cramped almost immediately. It was practically the first thing she had eaten since Jughead had left. Reaching out a trembling hand, Betty grabbed Kevin’s water bottle and looked up at him. Delighted that his best friend was going to ingest something, even if it was just water, he nodded strongly. Through the remaining five minutes of the lunch period, Betty sipped t the water bottle until half of it was gone. Then she quickly excused herself and headed back inside.

Making her way through the school hallways, Betty kept her eyes on the ground in front of her. There were too many memories in the school, and Betty just wanted to forget everything. Quickly making her way into the bathroom, Betty locked the nearest stall behind her and knelt on the tile. Lifting the lid off the toilet bowl, Betty heaved and retched violently, until there was nothing left inside of her. Her eyes had watered, and she was thankful that she hadn’t put on make-up today. Betty slumped against the closed stall door, her breaths coming erratically as her tears once again fell silently down her cheeks.

[eryiss]

The Good Doctor - Fraxus

Summary: Laxus doesn’t like doctors. After contacting an endless amount of them to visit his sick grandfather because of a lack of money, his hatred has grown for them. Then he meets Freed, a handsome, young doctor defying all the stereotypes Laxus has come to expect. [Fraxus Victorian AU]

This is a gift for @furidojasutin who’s a great writer, RPer and overall lovely person. You can read it on Archive Of Our Own, FanFiction or under the cut. I hope you enjoy. ^.^

Chapter One - Meeting 

“Are you sure you don’t wish for me to walk you home, Evergreen?”

Adjusting and straightening out his coat, Freed placed his hand on the cool metal door handle. He was looking over his shoulder to his receptionist, who was returning the typewriter back into its case. The woman looked up with a grin on her face, placing the expensive piece of equipment under the desk, out of harm’s way.

“Are you implying you don’t think I can walk home on my own, doctor? Because I can assure you, if anyone tried anything with me, they would be harmed more than me.” She spoke with a challenging tone, hands on her hips.

“Quite the opposite. I merely wanted to make sure that, if somewhere were to attempt anything untoward against you, that I could be there to help keep the man alive, stopping any pesky murder charges from arising.” He chuckled, opening the door. “I’m fully aware that you’re capable of looking after yourself.”

Content with the man’s reply, Evergreen shrugged on her own coat and walked from behind the desk of the doctor’s waiting area. She walked through the door that Freed held open for her, waiting patiently as he closed it behind him and locked it. The cool winter air struck her face, contrasting the heat brought upon by the now extinguished fireplace of the waiting room. If she didn’t like the snow so much, she would have definitely called winter her least favourite season. But that was a title held by the rainy English spring.

“Goodnight, Doctor Justine.” She smiled.

“Goodnight, Miss Evergreen.” He smiled back, slipping the top hat over his long green hair.

The two turned and walked away from each other on the frosty cobbled streets, illuminated by the flickering flames of the streetlamps above them. Freed felt his posture relax slightly, the stresses of the day leaving him as the lure of his warm bed came to taunt him.

Some may call it mad to work the hours that he did, Evergreen most likely being at the front of the queue considering her work hours needed to mirror his work hours. Yes, perhaps working for twelve hours a day, starting and ending at seven, was obsessive. But he’d grown to handle it by now. And, he reasoned to himself, it was easier to look a dishevelled and tired man in the mirror at the end of the day than it was to look at a sick man at his doorstep as he refused to help.

Adjusting the top hat slightly so the falling snow wouldn’t get into his eyes, he quickened his pace. Perhaps he could indulge himself in a cup of tea and a slice of Eccles cake before he retired to bed tonight. He had, after all, been forced to abruptly end his lunch when a drunkard stumbled into his office and began to demand treatment for symptoms that didn’t exist.

Of course, Evergreen hadn’t managed to put her self-defence skills into practice when she was eating a salad, he thought with a small chuckle.

Spurred on by the thought of a hot drink and food, Freed looked forward and walked in the direction of his home. He lived a short while away from his office, but the journey was scenic and both his house and office were luxurious enough to justify the half hour walk. He hardly had reason to complain, at least he had a warm home to return to and a stable job to leave for in the morning, many people didn’t and he counted himself lucky.

As he walked along a small stream that would eventually meet up with the Thames river, he saw a middle-aged couple walking towards him. By the look of their clothes and the cane the man held, they were wealthy. Perhaps on the same level as Freed, but most likely a little higher.

When they got closer, Freed managed to hear a snippet of their conversation, unintentionally of course. The woman, who he assumed was married to the gentleman, seemed extremely annoyed by something. The husband apparently shared this sentiment.

“What a revolting man.” The woman huffed. “Using such language. In a public place, no less. Should be kicked off the streets in my view, sent to a work camp. Some hard work and discipline, that’s when men like him need.”

“You can’t expect anything more from their kind.” The man agreed. “Just be glad we have the status to distance ourselves from that part of London. A man like that wouldn’t dare step a foot near a manor like ours.”

Resisting the urge not to roll his eyes at the arrogance of the two people, he tipped his hat and nodded at them as he walked past. The husband of the two returned the gesture, apparently holding him in a higher regard than he did the man who was the topic of their discussion. It was laughable really, how the fact that he was wearing a long coat and carrying a briefcase gave him an amount of respect that others didn’t have. For all this man knew, Freed was a very good pickpocket who had earned these by stealing from this man and his friends.

The classist views of his social status confused him. Despite having grown up in a rich environment, his parents had made sure to teach him that money didn’t equate to happiness. To him, it made no sense that somebody could turn off their moral compass and treat people like dirt because they didn’t own any land or run a factory. But that was the reality, he couldn’t fight it.

But still, perhaps this wasn’t the normal class based nonsense. The woman claimed she had a reason for her annoyance: this man’s language. But still, the rich were overly sensitive, who knows what this man had actually said.

‘Most likely something about feeling under the weather, which she twisted into a graphic description of his explosive diarrhoea.’

He smiled at the thought, eyes landing on the gently flowing water. The small amounts of snow fall and the flickering candle light from the street lamps really did make this a very scenic location. One of London’s many little treasures that would most likely never be seen by the masses. It was elegant, calm and peaceful.

“Damn it. Damn bugger shit. Shitting shit!”

Or perhaps not.

Looking to the left where the cursing was coming from, he saw a large man punching a wall quite brutally. He was in an alleyway, unaware that he had attracted an audience in the doctor. Freed watched for a few moments, the man not showing any signs of stopping his tirade of swearing and yelling. Freed huffed and walked towards him.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing? Children could here you!” Freed hissed, attracting the attention of the man at last.

He was blonde, broad shouldered and had a scar across his face that slightly resembled a lightning bolt. His face was flushed with apparent exhaustion, a tiny layer of sweat across his brow. He was looking at Freed expectantly, almost as if he wished to intimidate Freed into going away. Well, if he thought a staring contest would intimidate the doctor, he clearly didn’t know him.

“Well, why are you using such language in public?” Freed demanded.

The blonde man didn’t reply, just continued to look at Freed. The doctor broke the eye contact with the man, looking over his body with a quick blink. He immediately focused on the man’s left hand, which was dripping with blood. More blood than just a little cut, that was clear.

He walked to the larger man and took his bleeding hand, looking down at it with wide eyes. It was a rather nasty gash, he was shocked that the man wasn’t in visible pain because of it.

“What did you do?” He looked up, unwavering at the confused and angered expression on the blonde’s face. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’m a doctor. Now tell me what you did to cause this and I’ll bandage it up for you. And give me your name, as well.”

“Laxus.” He grunted, grinding his teeth slightly when the doctor’s fingers gently pressed against the wound. “And I got into a fight.”

“Well you lost then, that’s clear.” Freed muttered, gently applying pressure to the wound to test the amount of pain that it was causing Laxus. Well he wasn’t crying out, that was good.

Laxus looked down at the green haired man with a lot of confusion. He was well dressed and holding a leather briefcase, so clearly had a fair amount of money. Which is what confused him, since men with money usually avoided men like Laxus as if they were riddled with the plague. And they certainly didn’t offer to sew up their hand after a fight, they’d usually tut and tell them that they shouldn’t have gotten into a fight and that it was their own fault.

Freed didn’t notice the questioning gaze of the man, looking over the little alleyway. He saw a large barrel beside the left brick wall, a few bottles placed on it. He removed the bottles and brushed off the dirt with his gloved hand.

“Sit.”

Laxus raised an eyebrow, doing as he was told. He wasn’t the type to get ordered about by a rich guy who didn’t have a concept of reality and usually he would have told the guy where he could shove that barrel. But he didn’t, which slightly confused him. It was probably because of the lack of blood and the fact the other man didn’t treat him like a pile of day old crap.

Freed placed the briefcase on the floor, crouching down and opening it. After a small series of thieves had broke into businesses near Freed’s office, he had started taking the basics of what he needed to make diagnoses and help people home with him. That way, if the worst were to happen and the thieves targeted his office, he could continue his work to an extent. And thankfully, he had more than enough bandages to help with someone’s hand.

“Now, do you want to tell me why, after the fight that caused this, you thought it was a good idea to punch a wall and make a scene?” Freed said, pulling Laxus’ hand into a position where it would be easy to work on.

“No, not really. Sir.” Laxus grunted the last word. “Don’t know why I should.”

He sighed inwardly after saying that. Now he was probably going to be forced to listen to the stupid speech about respecting your betters and all that shite. He’d just had all of that from his damn boss. Well, ex-boss now.

“Because it’s clearly a very stupid thing to do and I need to know if that fight has affected your head and made you moronic.” Freed smirked slightly, pulling on a roll of tightly packed bandages.

Despite himself, Laxus found himself chuckling. Not laughing heartily or anything even remotely close, just a small chuckle. But it was more than he had ever given one of the rich guys, but rich guys tended to be unfunny twats who couldn’t bear to crack a smile if it was to save their lives. Maybe it was the shock at the attempted joke, mixed with the blood loss of course. It was weird how losing so little blood could cause you to be so damn stupid.

Distracting himself from the thin lie that he was telling himself, he looked down at his hand with another small hiss. Freed had begun to wrap the bandage around his hand, and it was hurting with the pressure that was applied to it.

“I didn’t get hit in the head, sir. My hand was just from a smashed bottle.” Laxus grunted again, ever so slightly red with embarrassment. Only slightly, however.

“You don’t need to call me sir.” Freed mumbled, pulling tightly on the bandages as he added another layer. He chuckled when Laxus groaned in pain. “Oh, stop it, you were punching a wall a moment ago without being in pain. Now you’re acting like a child.”

“Thought doctors were meant to have good bedside manners.” Laxus huffed slightly, free hand clenching against the barrel slightly.

“That’s true. But this is an alleyway, not a bed.” Freed grinned, looking into Laxus’ eyes before adding dryly. “And who said I was a doctor? An actual doctor would be able to do this without any pain. So, what you should be asking yourself is, who else would be walking the streets at night with the tools to mop up copious amounts of blood?”

Laxus slowly looked down to his hands, before his eyes shot up to the green haired man. He was met with an amused, yet gentle expression. He shook his head, cheeks reddening further. He joined in with the small laugh coming from the doctor.

“To put your mind at rest, I am a fully qualified doctor.” Freed chuckled.

“You aint anything like the doctors that I’m used to seeing.”

Freed raised an eyebrow at that, gently creating a tear on the bandage he was using and tying it tightly. He tugged at it a few times to make sure it was secure enough to keep the blood from coming out, eyes occasionally looking up to Laxus’ face from under the rim of his hat, making sure Laxus didn’t notice him.

His curiosity was rising at what Laxus had said, but he didn’t want to start prying. He knew that sometimes poorer people felt that, if they didn’t answer any questions of a richer man, they would be punished in some way. He didn’t want to unintentionally blackmail the man, but he was incredibly curious. Perhaps he was too curious for his own good…

“I try not to be, most doctors annoy me.” Freed couldn’t bite back his question. “So, you see a lot of doctors then? Are you sick?”

Laxus blinked slightly, realising his mistake. He let out a soft 'fuck’ as he brought his hand to his face and gently ran it over his scar, landing in his messy blonde hair. He leant back on the barrel, looking down at the doctor.

Freed was crouching down in front of his open briefcase again, placing the unused roll of bandages back into it. He shut it and clicked it shut, eyes glancing back to the broader man as he processed Freed’s question. He made sure not to push it, knowing some people didn’t want to discuss illnesses with strangers, even doctors. Although it was incredibly annoying when someone booked an appointment with him and then proceeded to waste his time refusing to tell him anything about his symptoms.

“You’re a clever guy, aint ya.” Laxus groaned. “It aint me who’s sick. It’s my grandad.”

“It must be bad, if you’re having to see multiple doctors about it.” Freed bit his gum slightly in annoyance at himself. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be prying.”

“Nah, you aint harming anyone.” Laxus sighed, getting off the barrel. “And it’s probably not that bad, I just can’t find anyone who’ll take a look at him. Turns out the people who’re meant to help you only do it if you pay 'em enough. No offence. No, actually, do be offended. Doctors are full of shit. They all talk about how damn good they are, act like they’re god’s gift to humans but don’t actually give a shit about people. Just the money.”

If it weren’t true, Freed would have disputed it. But practically all of his colleagues would rather treat a little cut on a rich man’s forehead than they would a poor man with a real sickness. All Freed could do was pat Laxus on the shoulder.

Laxus shrugged it off, not looking at Freed as he began to walk out of the alleyway. The doctors that he had met were bastards, not good men. He strode quickly down the side of the stream, ignoring how the pain in his hand had subsided slightly since Freed had bandaged it up. It was harder to ignore the faster steps that were coming up from behind him.

“Look, I’m sorry if I hurt your ego or whatever baut-”

“If you’d like, I can have a look at your grandfather at a discounted rate.” Freed cut him off.

Laxus stopped abruptly, causing Freed to do the same. The blonde looked over Freed’s face, for the first time. He didn’t have the same sneer of self-righteousness that most of the doctors he had met wore, and he was a hell of a lot younger as well. Truth be told, he was basically defying every stereotype that the doctors had set in Laxus’ mind. Even with the long green hair.

“Look.” He sighed loudly. “It’s a nice offer, but I just lost my job. Don’t really get how anyone can fuck up lifting barrels of booze in and out of a bar every night, but I managed to do it somehow. Typical really. Anyway, can’t afford to pay for it. Might be able to scrape buy on food until I find a new job, but even that’s a stretch.”

Laxus began to walk again, pissed. Of course, the once chance of getting any medical help at all was on the night where he lost the only fucking source of income. Why couldn’t he come weeks ago, when Laxus actually had the money to pay for it.

Freed sighed, walking briskly to catch up with the man again.

“Sir, what if I didn’t request payment and did it for free?” Freed offered, Laxus faltering in his step slightly again. “You clearly care for your grandfather a great amount, and I wouldn’t be anywhere near as good a doctor as I wish to be if I allowed a man to remain sick if I could have helped.”

“You’re gonna do your job for free? For a guy you’ve never met? Without questioning it at all?” For all Laxus’ questions, Freed nodded. “Did you get hit on the head and turned stupid?”

“I spend every day helping people who I don’t know, Laxus. And as for the money, I became a doctor because I wanted to help sick people. So I made a promise to myself, I’ll only overcharge the annoying rich people that I don’t like.” Freed smiled, electing a chuckle from Laxus.

“Good promise, shame more people aint like you.” Laxus smiled. “You sure about this? It feels weird accepting this kinda thing for nothing.”

“Well, if you need any medicine you will have to pay for that, but I shan’t charge you for my time and advice.”

Thinking for a moment, Laxus decided that he had nothing to lose. He sighed and began to walk towards his house again. This time, he made sure he was walking slowly enough for Freed to walk beside him. The doctor smiled and matched the pace, pleased with himself.

“If you turn out to be a murderer, I’ll damn kill you.” He grunted.

“If I am a murderer, you wouldn’t find out until you were dead. How would you kill me?” Freed teased.

“Well I’d haunt your stupid ass then.”

“You wouldn’t be the first ghost I’ve had to deal with. Probably not the last either.”

“Wait.” Laxus paused slightly. “You’re not actually a murderer, right?”

“No, of course not. On an unrelated note, there’s a new mass murderer killing blonde men. You should be on the lookout for him.”

“You’re a bastard.”

“I’m a doctor.” He grinned “The two are mutually exclusive.”

—–

Removing the stethoscope from the old man’s chest, Freed pushed his long hair form behind his ear and looked at Laxus. He had been in Laxus’ small house for half an hour giving Makarov, Laxus’ grandfather, a rudimentary check over. Currently, he was positioned beside the old mans bed while the blonde watched over him, leaning on the doorframe.

“Well, as you suspected, his illness isn’t all that bad.” Freed assured.

Laxus sighed in relief and pushed off from the doorframe, walking towards his grandfather who was giving him a toothy grin. It was made from pure smugness; the old man had been complaining to Laxus about his insistence on finding him a doctor for weeks.

“Told you, there’s nothing wrong with me. Fit as a fiddle.” The old man cackled. “Can I finally get out of this damn bed.”

“I wouldn’t advice that, not yet.” Freed replied, chuckling when he caught Laxus glaring at his grandfather for his use of the word 'damn.’ “Soon, however, that won’t be a problem. For now, I’d recommend as much bedrest as possible. And that means actually sleeping, not complaining about being in bed.”

“Hah. You managed to find the only human doctor in London, didn’t you boy?” Makarov cackled.

Running a hand through his hair in exhaustion and embarrassment about his grandfather’s behaviours, Laxus glanced down worriedly at Freed. He still didn’t know the doctor well and, despite how Laxus had been insulting Freed’s profession previously, he didn’t know if the doctor would begin to get annoyed at them and storm out. Thankfully, Freed seemed to be taking it in his stride.

Laxus excused himself from the room and invited Freed to do the same, claiming that they should leave Makarov to his rest. He closed the door to Makarov’s bedroom and walked into the small kitchen, sitting at the table and gesturing to the other chair for Freed to do the same.

“You sure he’s fine. You’re not just telling him that because you know whatever he’s got is bad and you don’t want to scare him?”

“I can assure you I don’t do that with my patients.” Freed smiled softly. “He almost definitely has the flu. It should steady itself out with time, however I can give you some advice to help move the process along.”

“Yeah, please.”

“Well, diet can be a big contributing factor. Lower his meat and bread intake, perhaps try and make a conscious effort to increase how much fruit he eats, aim for five different servings a day. And if that’s not possible, perhaps strive for one piece of citrus fruit a day. People claim us doctors are repelled by apples, but oranges are much more effective.” He smirked slightly. “Throwing them at us gets the job done quite well.”

Again, Laxus chuckled at the relatively funny joke. All the advice that he had been given was reasonably achievable, he was friendly with the local fruit vendor so could perhaps get some free produce. Makarov wouldn’t be happy with the lack of meat, but he would have to deal with it.

Looking at the doctor’s face, Laxus rolled his eyes. It was painfully obvious that the other man had some more advice but was hesitant to share it. Laxus had to wonder how he could be a doctor and tell people that their relatives were going to die with such an expressive face. Doctors typically didn’t have any emotion on their face. But, as Freed seemed persistent in proving, he wasn’t the typical kind of doctor.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Laxus demanded.

“You needn’t worry. The advice I’ve given you already will be more than enough to speed along your grandfather’s recovery.”

“I got in a fight today because I lost my job. You think I won’t get into another because you’re not telling me how to help my grandad?”

“I don’t doubt it.” Freed sighed, looking around the kitchen. “This house. I’m afraid to say that this form of environment isn’t going to help your grandfather’s recovery in any way. But I’m aware you won’t be able to change that.”

Laxus sighed. His house wasn’t good. It was small, bordered by three other houses on three sides of the wall and the bathroom was beginning to get mouldy. They shared it with one of Makarov’s old friend’s, Porlyucia, and her young granddaughter. They slept upstairs in the larger bedroom, Makarov took the smaller bedroom and Laxus slept in the sitting room couch during the day. Well, he used to. He would have to change that now he no longer worked in the nights.

It was obvious the house wasn’t the right place for a sick person. It was stuffy, overcrowded and cluttered beyond belief. But, as Freed said, he couldn’t change that.

The doctor looked a Laxus with restrained sympathy. It was obvious that, even if the larger man was too prideful to outwardly admit it, he would do anything to ensure his grandfather’s help. A drawback to being a doctor was defiantly having to look people who were desperate in the eye and say you can’t help them.

“Do you have any other form of income, or was your job at the bar it?”

“Yeah, I’ll go to the butchers and beg for something in the morning.” Laxus sighed at his own lie. Most places he could work at refused to give him work for one reason or another.

“I may have a position open for you. It might not be the most dignified for a man like you, however.” Freed offered cautiously.

“What is it?”

“I spend most of my waking hours at the office. Chores can often build up at home and bite into the time I should be sleeping. I’ve been meaning to hire someone to assist me with those chores while I’m at work. Perhaps prepare supper for when I return.” Freed explained, speaking with caution.

“A maid? You want me to be a fucking maid?”

“I was hoping to avoid using that term. But it is the most applicable term, yes.” Freed cringed slightly. “If it makes you feel any better, I will be the only person to know and I certainly won’t treat you with any less respect because of it.”

Laxus ran a hand through his hair in thought. A maid? Typically, maids wore frilly skirts and were, well, women. Laxus was pretty sure Freed would stay true to his word and treat him with respect, but still… On the other hand, he did need the money and, given he didn’t have any real education or experience in working, getting offered any jobs would be hard.

Shaking his head, he knew that he would have to take the job. His pride might be damaged and he knew his grandfather would have some mocking comments about being a maid, but this was what he need to do.

“One condition.” Laxus demanded. “I get to bring gramps. Get him out of this shit hole for a couple hours a day.”

“I won’t be there to stop you from bringing him and I certainly won’t be turning a sick man out in the cold when I return.” Freed smiled. “And, if you’re doing your job well, I won’t know if my spare bedroom has been used throughout the day.”

“Seriously?”

“Do your best to keep him in bed throughout the day and you have my blessing.” Freed assured. “The walk to my house and the fresh air will probably do him well.”

Laxus wasn’t sure what to do as Freed wrote down his address. This damn doctor couldn’t possibly be serious. He didn’t know him or his grandfather and he was willingly inviting them to spend time in his house throughout the day. Sure, he could probably get as many police officers on them if either Laxus or Makarov tried to steal anything, but he was still being incredibly trusting.

Freed handed Laxus the small piece of paper with his address written on it. He knew that this could be a risk but Laxus and his grandfather seemed trustworthy. It was obvious that Laxus cared for his grandfather and he doubted the blonde would risk his only form of income by doing something wrong.

“I leave for work every morning at half six in the morning.” Freed informed. “If you could arrive at my home at six I can show you your duties and give you a rudimentary tour.”

“Six huh?” Laxus grimaced slightly.

“Can’t you handle it?” Freed taunted slightly. “Tomorrow will be an anomaly. Your normal working hours will start at eight o'clock. I just wish to show you around before I go to my office tomorrow.”

Laxus nodded in relief, more than thankful that he wouldn’t be waking up every morning at an absurd time. He glanced down at the small piece of paper he had been given, recognising the street name, he could get there quite easily. It was a pretty nice place, he walked past it every time he walked to the market. Anytime he saw someone from the street they glared at him or wouldn’t create eye contact; it’d be hilarious to see how they reacted when he walked past them and into a respected doctor’s house.

Perhaps he should wear his coat that was covered in oil stains and patches of ripped fabric. That’d scare the hell out of those posh morons. And if they had a heart attack it’d give Freed some extra work, so there were no downsides.

Freed had picked up his coat and hat that had been slung across the back of a chair as Laxus studied the piece of paper with interest. Now adorning the clothing, he waited patiently for Laxus to look up at him; it would be rude to leave without addressing the homeowner.

“So, I start tomorrow then?”

“If that’s agreeable to you.”

“Yeah, that’ll be great. Thanks.” Laxus grinned as he looked up, realising Freed had put on his coat. “You goin’?”

“Yes, I’ve had a rather long day. I’m sorry for leaving so abruptly.” Freed smiled slightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow. And please take my advice in relation to your grandfather, it certainly will help his recovery.”

Laxus nodded as Freed turned around and began to walk down the small hallway beside the staircase, to the front door. With a mischievous grin, Laxus reached over and picked up a slightly rotting apple from the fruit bowl atop the table. Nobody was going to eat it and, out of curiosity, Laxus wanted to see just how well doctor and his new employer’s orange theory held up.

With a slight smirk, he threw the apple at the doctor. He was aiming to knock off his top hat, but had misjudged the distance and it was spiralling towards the back of his head. He cringed, knowing this was going to make his first day working for this man incredibly awkward. He immediately began to question why he had decided to throw some old fruit at the other man. A moment of stupidity that could easily ruin his chances of getting some money.

As Freed walked, he noticed the apple flying towards him in a dusty mirror besides the door. He turned around and managed to catch the airborne fruit before it hit him. He frowned down at it and placed it on the small wooden table beside the staircase.

“As I said, oranges are much more effective.” Freed smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Laxus.”

Freed had left the small house and was on his way towards his own home before Laxus could say anything, leaving the blonde with a content grin on his face. So, he hadn’t messed up his chance at the job and would be working for someone who didn’t get annoyed at every little thing.

He took the rotting apple from the little able, knowing he would get scolded by Porlyucia for leaving it there if he didn’t. After ridding himself of the fruit, he jogged upstairs to check on his grandfather. The moment he walked inside, the smaller man was looking at him with the widest grin that he had ever seen. It took a moment to see why.

“You’re finally here, maid.” The old man grinned. “Could you plump my pillows, maid.”

“You heard then?” Laxus rolled his eyes. “And I’m not a maid. I’m just doing the same things a maid does.”

“Try saying that when your new boss gets you in a skirt.” Makarov cackled.

“He doesn’t even see me as a maid, he’s obviously not gonna do that.” Laxus groaned when the old man laughed manically and began to wiggle his eyebrows at him. Bored with his grandfather’s stupidity, he closed the door and began to walk downstairs to prepare supper, muttering under his breath.

“Should’ve just let the old bastard die.”

[cosmosogler]

really, REALLY late start today. sorry. i was trapped in tv tropes purgatory.

i really hurt my eyes with all the reading i did... and lost track of time.

anyway i got up early, at 9:05, and showered and drove out to the behavioral health center. i got a little turned around and was one minute late for my appointment. and i also hit the curb when i was trying to park because i’m good at driving when i’m stressed.

i managed to NOT damage the car this time at least! baby steps. curbs are the worst. i have never hit anything that wasn’t part of the ground. well, except for the recycling bin that dad decided to leave directly behind the car on the driveway that you couldn’t see from the rearview mirror. the car is normally in the garage so i couldn’t have seen the bin before i got in the car either.

ok i got sidetracked. i need to stay focused because i want to go to sleep because my head hurts. staying focused with a headache is really easy!!!

i hate that my stupid face scrunches up when i have a headache. it makes everything worse. because i always have a headache. mostly from grinding my teeth forever every day always.

ok so i got to the hospital and went in for the paperwork and interview. i got a quick medical check up and then filled out my paperwork. the nurse asked if i wanted something to drink and rattled off a bunch of available choices and i asked for water and she left and never came back. so i was thirsty for about an hour.

the doctor, charlie, came in well after i had figured out all the paperwork. i was expecting to be interrupted because i was  taking forever. but she was nice and asked questions and didn’t seem judgmental when i stumbled over my answers and gave caveats to all my problems. but then i mentioned that i couldn’t start until next week because i am going up to flagstaff to sort out school stuff and would miss two days of therapy this week. she immediately put down the survey and told me i could only start within three days of finishing the paperwork. so i would have to fill out everything again in a week if i wanted to start next week. i kinda sighed. but she promised she would keep my file so i didn’t have to redo EVERYTHING. and they are open on weekends so i can make an appointment for next monday and start right away on tuesday.

so i drove home. i sang badly along with my ipod. my voice was just not with it today. i don’t have as much range as the singer i was listening to even on a good day though. so i just had to hope that the car wasn’t judging me.

i got home and got caught up on some web sites and tumblr blogs and i started reading some homestuck analysis because i still think about it sometimes. i follow the fan comic “double death of the author” and it is very good and one of the writers wrote very detailed rants on why the ending was disappointing. it feels nice to see some of my thoughts in someone else’s words.

then i went to chipotle for lunch with dad and the neighbor and his daughter. the daughter is roommates with my sister at their apartment since they both go to the same university. recently she has been making some very bad and also dangerous decisions relating to alcohol so my sister has distanced herself from the neighbor’s kid. dad thinks she should just “forgive and forget” and “talk it out” but my sister is adamant that the daughter is not welcome in her life while she is making these decisions. she has forgiven her before and she always interprets it as permission to keep doing it, so my sister put her foot down after a really bad night.

i agree with my sister. i didn’t say that to anyone except her though.

the chipotle was good. i actually ate the whole burrito. the whole burrito! i didn’t put as many things in it as i usually would though.

after that i sank into my tv tropes/wikipedia fugue for several hours. there is just so much information. and i need to read literally all of it. i can barely even stop when i want to, if i manage to catch the time. i was like this when i read long novels too. reading while walking, reading at night in the car, reading under streetlights while we walked from the car to the store, waiting for my family to fall asleep late at night and then creeping into the bathroom and reading behind the door for hours and hours. i mean, i didn’t want to sleep, because horrifying nightmares. and i didn’t care about school, because the bullying was at its worst those years. the only genuinely interesting thing that didn’t also hurt me was reading. and it did hurt me... i don’t have as much “imagination” stamina as i used to and my eyes are getting weak. and i got back problems that i don’t tell my family about. it literally always hurts. i can’t make it stop.

i got yelled at for reading too long several times. when the last harry potter book came out my dad caught me reading upside down with my feet up against the wall at 3 am and nearly shook the walls when he punched the door. i didn’t even like harry potter as much as my sister did. mom caught me reading in the bathroom when i couldn’t wait long enough for her to go to bed to continue the story.

i just... have to look at all the information in front of me. it’s in instinct i can’t fight, and when i think about it, i don’t really want to fight it that much. it’s bad in some situations, but it’s mostly useful. and good when i need to make an informed decision.

even in discord channels, if other people had a conversation while i was away, even if i have no interest in the topic, and i know i won’t find it interesting, i will read it.

i’ve gotten just a little better about that, mostly because i don’t usually have the energy to interact with people.

anyway i remembered (i just also remembered right now so i will have to do that first thing in the morning) that i need to schedule my shuttle up to flagstaff for wednesday. so i went to ask dad what a good time for him to drop me off is. he said he was on the phone so i waited quietly and petted the dogs. eve is limping more than she was a few days ago.

after a few minutes dad spiked the phone into the desk and it hit the wall and fell behind the desk. i was startled, but i asked dad “what would be a good time for” and he interrupted me to snarl “i don’t care.” so i left the room.

he called me back into the room later by yelling at me. i asked what a good time would be for him since i needed to take the shuttle on wednesday, which is his physical therapy day. i have set aside wednesdays as “dad has full access to the car” days for the past several months so he could go to physical therapy for his elbow. he told me he hasn’t gone to that basically since i started scheduling my week around it. after yelling at me for not knowing about it and accommodating him when i first started leaving the house again.

COOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

so i gotta schedule the shuttle tomorrow morning. it’s 12:40 right now i can’t do it before i want to sleep if i’m gonna keep writing.

then i had the Iconic Exchange with asher about reach arounds. and then it was an hour later and mom got home and made a quiche. it was ok... it didn’t taste bad or anything, but i didn’t like the way that it filled up my mouth every single bite. i talked to mom about why she was angry at dad. they do not communicate effectively or understand each other very well. despite mom thinking she understands dad perfectly. they have very different priorities, and different priorities than the other thinks they have. then i took the dogs outside and then i took wiley on a walk. but only a short one because i had been chewed on by mosquitoes in the few minutes i took them out back and i was still tired and sore from the long drive yesterday.

then i kept reading tv tropes and then it was like 11. but i finally finished the tabs. all of them except two which i am not going to look at right now. even though they are interesting. 

i went downstairs and had some strawberries and came back up and watched some youtube. i found a new poet that is really cool. i put one of his works in my queue so that will post in like two days. i have a two-day queue buffer most of the time.

then i panicked when it was 12 and started writing!!! 

oh, mom talked to me about eve while i was eating. i mentioned that the sooner i left for florida at the end of the summer, the more likely it would be that eve would still be alive when i left. so i wouldn’t be there for her. mom made a face and asked if i really thought they wouldn’t take care of her. that’s not really what i was getting at, but i said that’s not what i thought and mentioned that she’s walking badly. mom said that my uncle mike was going to wait until she stopped using the leg and then amputate it. she should have up to another year in her if she recovers from the surgery well and the cancer hadn’t become malignant over the last few years. it will be easier for her to adjust to having three legs if she no longer uses the bad one anyway.

i don’t want her to die... but when i leave for florida i won’t be coming back, not really. they employ graduate students year-round. mom asked if i wanted eve to die and i said no but i felt guilty. it’s complicated... like, what if it was me. would i rather die around loved ones or live longer and see them leave. and how does my depression factor into my answer to that question in a way that it wouldn’t for eve? i can’t make the decision for her, but i also can’t communicate the situation to her in any way or get her feedback. all she can see is that i’m sad for some reason.

i watched her run around in the backyard with doge and wiley. diogi has resorted to little bunny-hops with her back legs to get moving while she scrambles much faster with her front legs. it looks funny but i’m glad she can still go more or less where she wants. eve has started running that way too though. supporting her back leg with her good one when she runs. diogi just kicks her back legs at the same time because it’s easier to coordinate. 

i dunno. i always feel wistful and sad when i watch the dogs. like this might be the last time i see them do this or that. how do they feel about it? they have to know. diogi’s doing “pack protection” behaviors that pack animals do when one of their members is sick or otherwise infirm. 

ehhhh i made myself sad. they’re not even dead yet. i am always happy to see them but also sad to know that i might not see them again. i can’t get that thought out of my head and just enjoy the time i got.

grief is weird. the past few days i’ve been feeling nothing and getting really confused when an emotion pops up because what even are emotions, but put an old dog in front of me and i feel REALLY BAD and it shoves me back into being alive IMMEDIATELY.

and then i’m gonna adopt a senior cat when i get to florida. a+ plan, can’t see how that will go wrong. there are no holes in this plan.

ok it’s 1 i gotta sleep. therapist appointment at 11:30 tomorrow. i will get up around 10 as usual though so it won’t be a rush. i was hoping i could push back my wake-up time to 9 but since it is already after 1 i don’t see that happening. i have just been too tired the last few days.

i know i had dreams last night but i don’t remember what they were about. just that they were there. as they always are. i can recall dreaming at least 6 nights a week, usually 7, even if i can’t remember anything besides vague impressions. and i don’t remember them less than half the time. it’s clogging up all my memory and emotion and energy space. for 20 years.