#anyways trying to take pictures of a two-handed project with one hand on a phone is. interesting.

[ashfly]

Since you know knitting, I think it's best described at the knit stitch except you grab the working yarn twice? Like, the standard grab-pullthrough-off except you're also grabbing and pulling a new one through everything still on the hook (because crochet not knit, you start each stitch with one loop). not great at this but quick picture tutorial starting with chain (I know you got that part down but shh.)

wrap the yarn around the hook - red lines are roughly where the yarn is while pinched between my fingers.

grab the yarn with the hook - it should be wrapped around the hook and caught in the actual hook part.

pull through

should be back to where you started - one loop on the hook.

(chains also make the slip-knot equivalent, so make a few, pull, and then start counting.)

once you have the chain, you can start working on the single stitch. 'second from hook' means not the one you just made, but the one after that - the wrong spot here is one of the spots where counting mistakes happen and projects shrink. The other is when ending it - the first washcloth you make is likely to be a triangle, it happens.

stab it with the hook / push the hook through the hole.

grab the working yarn (yarn that leads back to the ball) and pull it through the first loop (the one you just grabbed and stabbed). There should be two loops on the hook.

Grab the working yarn again and pull it through both loops (crochet works one stitch at a time, so this is creating a stitch and connecting it to the previous).

pull it out, stab the next stitch.

repeat (grab the working yarn, pull it through the first loop, then yarn over again and pull through both loops.)

feel free to poke me again.

I have spent the weekend FAILING to learn how to crochet. Is this witchcraft? Is there a secret grandmaster somewhere supplying y'all with the knowledge of the fifth dimension required to make this work? I can do a single chain, that's easy, but doing anything else with it is like... I followed the directions (from multiple different sources, multiple times) and somehow this never looks like what's in the video/picture, and I have no idea how to move on from it.

Also FUCK video tutorials, where's a good step by step pictorial like we had in the 90s? Nobody knows how to make them anymore, apparently. But every video person goes too fast, or their finger is in the way at a key moment, and somehow they're performing sleight of hand that would make Penn & Teller confused because first they have a string and then they have a granny square.

Compared to this, knitting is easy.

[seungfl0wer]

Hyunjin As Your Boyfriend

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut🩷

Small note, hyunjin is really just- coming for me lately. So I needed this more than I knew lol

-🩵

•The hopeless romantic.

•He’s thinking of the best. Date ideas.

•They’re so thought out, so unique and cute-

•Takes you two to the beach for a beautiful picnic.

•Movie nights laying on your bed with a projected on the ceiling so y’all can cuddle.

•Plans cute painting dates.

•Speaking of paintings.

•Has so many doodles, drawings ext that are of you or things that make him think of you.

•Your first date? It’s a painting.

•That one picture he just melts seeing.

•It’s a cute little doodle he keeps in his phone case.

•Loves writings you little notes that you can put in your phone case.

•Loves telling others “that’s my partner”

•Gush’s about you a lot.

•Especially to the members.

•Which he always likes to tease you about them.

•”Ah- y/n why are you talking to innie? I’m right here? Your handsome boyfriend”

•And when you give any of them a hug.

•Mans whining “Right infront of me? How could you. We need to go home and change your clothes of his dirty touch”

•All in good teasing, makes you laugh, makes the members laugh.

•Sits and judges people with you.

•Like you don’t like someone?

•He’s picking up the same vibes but it’s plastered on his face.

•Random dance battles.

•Ending in you both on the floor laughing at each other.

•He’ll do the little “ew” thing to you when you ask for a kiss cause you pout and he just loves that.

•”Ew we can’t kiss! I have a partner”

•Likes to take you traveling with him especially to fashion shows.

•You’re always his plus one for anything.

•Tells you all the time “you should model you’re stunning”

•Ugh and this mans complimenting you so much.

•”My partner is just amazing, they look so pretty, they’re so stunning”

•Tries to learn about stuff you like so you both can do it.

•You like Knitting? He’s learning it.

•You like to play a certain game? He’s trying it out too.

•He gets the big sad when he’s away.

•Literally thinks he’s gonna die.

•Calls you from his room saying “I can’t go on my babies not here with me, it’s been 6 years”

•Dramatic man.

•Sends you so many dumb (cute) little videos.

•Also sends you so many pictures.

•So. Many. Pictures.

•Also listen- yall getting matching jewelry.

•Because he’ll be on tour and see these cute bracelets and need to get them for the both of you.

•He’s a really good gift giver too.

•Not that you want him too, and no matter how much you protest.

•He finds the most you gift. Like it’s scary.

•Overall this man is such a hopeless romantic.

•Be ready to be treated like a god.

•Cause honestly that’s how he views you.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•He’s just as romantic in the bedroom.

•Does the whole rose peddles to the bed.

•Candles, good music ext.

•His favorite way of fucking you is anyway he can see your face.

•He just wants to be able to kiss you.

•Hands frantically touching your body.

•Also think he’s very vocal. Not so much talking.

•More of he has his head in your neck moaning and groaning.

•Is definitely leaving marks on you. Thinks they’re pretty.

•Im a firm believer that he loves when you ride him facing him.

•He can hold onto tightly, hands running all over you.

•Both of your faces contorting in pleasure.

•Likes when you suck or bite his neck.

•Honestly probably likes when you choke him. Not hard but just enough.

•If he does talk it’s him whimpering about how good you feel or how good you’re doing.

•If you got tittie he sucking them. Feel like he’s a tittie kinda guy.

•Man also really enjoys shower sex.

•It’s just so so intimate.

•And this. This is the most loving kind of sex.

•It’s normally when he is really needy and just wants you.

•The feeling of the warm water while he fucks you makes him cum so fast.

•He just loves loves it.

•Aftercare with him is a lot of loving words.

•Cuddling on the bed as he pushes his hair out of your face.

•Telling you how much he loves you.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 17: G!P

Here we have a little odd one where we have Ryujin and actress Han So Hee together.

Length 1.7K

Ryujin x Han Sohee

Ryujin stared at herself in the mirror, posing as she snapped pictures of herself. “Stop hogging the mirror! If you’re going to use it so much, get your own.” Yeji snapped, waiting for Ryujin to finish. “I need it to get ready.”

“Wait your turn,” Ryujin retorted, using her body to keep her leader away. “I’m almost done.”

“You’ve been here for almost an hour; move.” Yeji snarled, trying to keep from yelling. Pushed away from the mirror, Ryujin stands there, angry.

“You’re just jealous; if you had a body like mine, you’d be all over yourself, too. I bet you want me to fuck you.”

Yeji rolled her eyes, “Just go fuck yourself already. You’re the only person who would be willing to do it anyway.”

Fuming, Ryujin walks away. “I’ll show her,” she grumbles, slamming the door to her room. Ryujin opens her phone and finds just the person she needs: Han Sohee. She texts the actress, asking to meet for coffee. Not knowing what she was in for, the older woman agrees to meet with Ryujin the next day in the evening.

Ryujin waited patiently, using her phone's camera to look at herself. When Sohee walked in, she put the camera away, trying to seem attentive. Ryujin stood up and waved at the older woman before they sat down together and ordered coffee. The two began to chat first about what projects they had coming up. Later, Ryujin made her move: “Sohee, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Sohee pauses, “What is it?”

“You know how people say we look alike?” The older woman nods, allowing Ryujin to continue. She places her hand over the actress’s. “Well, I wanted to know if we had more in common.” Ryujin layers her statement in a sexual tone. Sohee blushes at the Ryujin’s invitation, considering it. “I’ll take care of you,” Ryujin added, gently caressing her hand.

“Um…okay,” Sohee says, nodding twice. Ryujin locks her hand with Sohee’s, smiling at her success.

“Let’s go right now.” Ryujin rises from her seat and holds onto Sohee’s arm, hooking her arm around hers and practically dragging her back to the dorms. They head to Ryujin’s room, where she begins to undress herself. Sohee is shocked by the younger woman’s boldness. She felt awkward staying dressed and convinced herself it would be weirder if she were fully clothed when Ryujin turned back around. Sohee begins to follow the younger woman’s actions, slipping off her clothing until they both stand naked. Sohee stares at Ryujin’s back, noticing that they do have very similar bodies. The moment she turned around, though, she noticed a big difference.

Sohee’s jaw dropped as she stared at Ryujin's cock; the massive member was the largest she had ever seen; it was just barely smaller than her forearm. While she was staring at Ryujin’s cock, the younger woman was looking at her doppelganger's body. She stepped closer to Sohee, running her hand up her chest until the older woman looked up to meet her gaze. “Looks like we do share a lot in common.” Ryujin moves closer, running her hands down Sohee’s back, her cock rubbing against her legs. The older woman shudders as she feels the heat emanating from it. Ryujin takes this moment to play with the older woman’s body. “Just like me,” she whispers, squeezing Sohee’s ass. The actress groaned. She could feel herself getting wet as the mirror image of herself dominated her.

Ryujin nudges the older woman onto her knees, putting her face to face with her cock. Sohee felt her head spin as she caught a whiff of Ryujin’s musk. She unconsciously leaned closer to Ryujin’s cock, only coming back to reality as her lips touched the shaft. She moves back, shocked at her own actions. “Go ahead. I don’t mind.” Ryujin said, grabbing her cock and bringing it toward Sohee’s lips. The actress gulped; there was no way she’d be able to take Ryujin’s cock, but something in her wanted it. She stuck the tip of her tongue out and licked the head. Sohee shut her eyes as she took another lick. The older woman groaned as she opened her mouth wide and began sucking on the head. Ryujin moaned softly, patting Sohee’s head as she submitted to her. Sohee reached up and grasped her cock, stroking it as she sucked on the head like it was a lollipop.

While Ryujin enjoyed Sohee’s mouth, she wanted more. She pushed more of it into the older woman’s mouth. It hurt her jaw, but Sohee allowed the younger woman to take advantage of her. She touched herself, rubbing her hungry cunt as Ryujin tried to stuff more of her cock in her mouth.

The sight of Sohee playing with her cunt was enough to push Ryujin to go for more. She pulled her cock out of the actress’s mouth. The act confused Sohee; she reached for Ryujin’s cock wanting to keep going. “You want this inside you, don’t you?” Ryujin asked. The actress gulped before nodding; she did want Ryujin’s cock inside her. She stood up slowly, and just as she was about to head for the bed, Ryujin grabbed her arm, pulling the older woman so she was in front of her. Sohee looked ahead and saw the mirror in front of her. “It’s amazing, right? I borrowed it just for this.” Sohee watched as her mirror image lifted her leg. Ryujin grabbed her cock with her other hand and slapped it against the older woman’s tight cunt. “This is going to be good,” she whispers before pressing the cock head against Sohee’s entrance.

Sohee had no time to react; in one moment, Ryujin was buried inside her. The younger woman had torn through her driving her cock into Sohee’s womb. Her stomach bulged out, and she came immediately. Sohee’s walls clamped down around Ryujin’s cock, but it only made the younger woman harder.

Before she could recover, Ryujin thrust herself into the actress. She watched Sohee lose her mind and enjoyed watching “her” face be lost to pure pleasure. Ryujin continued to thrust into the woman, reveling in the pleasure she was getting. Ryujin stopped suddenly, though she wanted to see the older woman beg for her cock. Her plan worked.

After a moment, Sohee managed to speak, “Why did you stop?” She asked, looking back at the idol. “Don’t stop, keep going!” Sohee said, surprised by her voice. She was desperate for Ryujin’s cock. Before the younger woman could say anything, Sohee began slamming herself on Ryujin’s cock, getting every inch inside her. Ryujin was pleasantly surprised by how proactive Sohee was being and let her fuck herself. Sohee’s moans filled the room; she wanted Ryujin to fuck her hard.

Her moaning got the attention of Yeji, who came right to the door; putting her ear against it, she heard the woman’s voice begging for Ryujin’s cock. She stayed by the door, unable to move as she listened to Sohee fuck herself senseless on Ryujin’s cock.

Back inside the room, Ryujin smiled, watching as “she” bounced on her cock. Staring into the mirror, Ryujin saw herself bouncing like mad. It was an intoxicating sight. She reached forward, grabbing Sohee’s breasts. The older woman cried out as she felt Ryujin tug at her nipples but continued driving herself onto Ryujin’s cock. “I didn’t know I would be such a whore.” Ryujin whispers into Sohee’s ear with a smirk. Ryujin knew she was the cause; she had broken the actress and made her the moaning mess she was right now. The younger woman placed her hand on Sohee’s stomach feeling her cock as it slid in and out of her; she was tearing the older woman in half with every thrust. Ryujin pressed down on her stomach, making the pleasure even greater for Sohee. The older woman couldn’t handle the pleasure for long. She slammed herself down on Ryujin’s cock and climaxed. Ryujin could feel Sohee’s nectar running down her leg onto her body. While the older woman was cumming she fixed her hair.

“That was really nice, Sohee. Now get on the bed.” The older woman followed Ryujin’s orders, placing herself in the middle of her bed. “This is going to be the good part now,” Ryujin says, caressing her cheek. Sohee nods and spreads her legs for the younger woman. “Not like that,” Ryujin says as she grabs the actress’s legs and forces them by her head. Ryujin aligns herself with her cunt and impales the older woman. Sohee cries out, feeling herself get stretched to her limits as Ryujin’s cock splits her in two again. The younger woman is relentless, thrusting into the Sohee without care. The older woman could feel her mind melting as the pleasure coursed through her; she could only think about the way Ryujin’s cock was slamming into her womb.

“Get ready,” Ryujin grunted, putting her full weight behind every thrust now that she was approaching her climax. Ryujin sped up, pushing the older woman deeper into the bed. Ryujin stopped suddenly, burying herself inside the older woman and cumming. Sohee felt Ryujin’s cock throbbing, her cum filling her womb. She smiled wearily; as she was pumped full of Ryujin’s cum Sohee’s body began to relax. Ryujin pulled out slowly, leaving her feeling empty. Ryujin stepped back and looked at the older woman; her hair was a mess, sweat covered her body, and her lower half was a mess with Ryujin’s cum pouring out of her cunt. Sohee felt her consciousness leaving her, eventually passing out.

Ryujin felt a sense of satisfaction; she turned toward the mirror, looking at herself. Her cock was coated in her cum and Sohee’s nectar. Ryujin stroked herself until she was hard, satisfied with what she had done. “Yeji! You can come in.” She shouted, turning around to stare at the door. She knew her leader had been listening in. The door cracked open a tiny bit before opening fully. Yeji stared first at Ryujin; her eyes stuck on the massive thing before shifting over to the woman who lay passed out on the bed. “You said go fuck myself. So I did,” Ryujin says with a smirk, continuing to jerk off in front of her. “What? Do you want a taste?” She teases.

Yeji gulps and shuts the door behind her, ready to experience what she heard herself.

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Glen Powell Imagine: Red Carpet Chaos, Fan Reactions & Late-Night Shenanigans

Red Carpet Moment – “America’s Favorite Couple”

The Twisters premiere was a spectacle—flashbulbs, screaming fans, reporters yelling for interviews. You and Glen arrived together, of course, dressed to kill. Your arm looped through his as you both smiled for the cameras, the internet already blowing up over your appearance.

“Over here!” photographers called. “One more! Give us something!”

Glen leaned in slightly. “They want something,” he murmured.

You smirked. “What kind of something?”

He didn’t answer—just dipped you, old Hollywood style, and kissed you full on the lips. The crowd erupted. Fans screamed, flashes went wild, and the moment was instantly trending.

You laughed as he pulled you upright, fixing your dress. “Show-off.”

“Can’t help it,” he grinned. “You’re my favorite co-star.”

The interviews were just as chaotic.

“So, how does it feel starring in another project together?” the interviewer asked.

Glen looked at you, eyes twinkling. “Dangerous. We’re unstoppable at this point.”

You shook your head, playing along. “World domination next.”

The interviewer laughed. “Fans love you two. Do you feel the pressure of being America’s favorite couple?”

Glen threw an arm around you, leaning into the mic. “Nah. We’ve been doing this for years. If anything, they’re just catching up.”

The clip was everywhere the next morning.

Fan Interaction – Chaos at the Airport

Traveling together was always an adventure. The second you and Glen stepped into LAX, fans swarmed. Security did their job, but you and Glen? You had your own way of handling the chaos.

“Oh my God, it’s them!” someone shouted.

Fans crowded in, holding out posters of Scream Queens, Twisters, even your platinum album covers. One girl shoved her phone at Glen. “Can you take a picture of me and her?”

Glen laughed but took the phone anyway. “Of course, I am just the boyfriend.”

More laughs. More chaos. A fan looked at you, practically vibrating. “I shipped you guys so hard in Scream Queens! I can’t believe you actually got together in real life!”

Glen nudged you. “Told you we had fans back then.”

Another fan held out a Scream Queens DVD, looking starstruck. “This show was my everything—you two were my everything.”

You smiled, signing their case. “Ours too, honestly.”

Glen leaned in, whispering to you as you walked toward your gate. “We could probably run for office at this point.”

You laughed. “President and First Gentleman Powell?”

“Has a nice ring to it.”

Late-Night Talk Show – The Viral Interview

Sitting side by side on the Tonight Show couch, you and Glen were already causing a stir. The audience couldn’t stop cheering when you walked out together, and the host, grinning ear to ear, shook his head.

“I mean, look at you two,” he said. “The power couple of the summer!”

You and Glen exchanged a glance. “We try,” Glen said smoothly.

The host turned to you. “So you were the scream queen. And now you’re an international rockstar. How did Glen Powell of all people lock this down?”

The audience lost it.

Glen threw up his hands. “I ask myself that every day.”

You smirked. “Persistence. And charm. And the fact that he literally refused to stop flirting with me on the Scream Queens set.”

Glen nodded. “Guilty.”

The host leaned in. “Okay, let’s settle something. Who made the first move?”

Without missing a beat, you both answered:

“Him.”

“You.”

Glen turned to you. “Wait, what? You made the first move.”

You raised a brow. “You were the one who kissed me first.”

“Okay, but you were the one who dragged me into your trailer and—”

The audience screamed.

Glen clapped his hands together. “And that story is for another time.”

That interview? It went instantly viral.

Later That Night – Hotel Room

Back at the hotel, you scrolled through Twitter, laughing at the edits, the GIFs, the theories. Glen walked out of the bathroom, towel-drying his hair.

“They’re insane,” you said, holding up a clip from the talk show. “‘Who made the first move?’ They’re dissecting it like it’s a murder case.”

Glen flopped onto the bed beside you, peering at your phone. “And? What’s the verdict?”

“They think I seduced you,” you said dramatically.

Glen smirked. “I mean, technically—”

You shoved him. “Shut up.”

He laughed, pulling you into his arms. “C’mon, rockstar. Let them talk. We’ve got a press tour to finish.”

And with Glen Powell at your side? It was going to be legendary.

[withleeknow]

letters i didn't send to you.

pairing: ot8 x reader (ot8 in the sense that there's no name mentioned so you can imagine whoever you want. imagine the whole kpop industry if you want lol) genre/warnings: established relationship, long distance relationship au?, angst, fluff if you squint. unedited bc i am insane word count: 0.7k note: trying something new here! dunno how people are gonna like it but i don't feel terrible about it 🤷‍♀️ a product of my emo hours and i needed an outlet and i thought oh hey why not just project this into a fic lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

3:29am, i've been dreaming about you for years. stars and moons and cotton candy clouds on fire at sundown. the whole universe resides in your eyes, it's almost unfair. sleepless nights because you're not here; restless days because i can't wait for you to be back. the clock stops ticking when you're not with me. the magnetic pull gets stronger during the witching hour somehow. i've always been drawn to you, even before i knew who you were. you're the only home i'd leave all my haunts for. it's summer solstice in most parts of the world but not in our bedroom, not when the only way i can have you is through a phone screen on your pillow. your voice is trying to lull me to sleep. it doesn't come close to replicating one tenth of your warmth. to love is to endure.

-

i'm halfway through the day, and you must be dreaming of where you belong, by my side on a bed that's far too big when i'm the only occupant. or at least, i hope you're dreaming of me too. 1:19pm, i'm six hours ahead but days and weeks and months and years behind, still stuck in that airport where you left me for the first time. some days, my eyes get misty at lunch when i think about your alarm going off and your irritated groan as you roll over to make your phone stop screaming. other days, i don't have an appetite at all, not with you on my mind and the reminder that there's still oceans between us. when are you coming home? i know when you're coming home, and yet i ask anyway, as if it'll shorten the distance and make the time pass more quickly. to love is to wait.

-

saturday morning, but i can't stay in bed past 7:12am. missing you a lot tonight, was what you had sent while i was asleep. that's a little cruel for a good morning text, don't you think? it's not your fault. i blame it on the oceans, on the time, on the distance. the coffee is still brewing, just enough for one steaming mug but it would've been nice if i got to make two. can we go back to new york? we always say we would, but can we do it now? i'll meet you halfway if you let me. there's nothing that ties me to this place. you're always on the move. my home is always on the move. we were happy on that trip, right? my fondest memories of you. skylines and the high line. to love is to risk it all, and i would risk it all for you. take me home, will you? let's go back to new york.

-

the clock reads 8:18am, but the date is all wrong. you should be landing any minute now, but not for another two days. two more days until you're home, ten days that i get to be in your arms. and yet, all i can think about is your departure, about coming back to an empty apartment after you're gone again. i think about you leaving before you even return. the drive back after i've sent you off, it never hurts less no matter how many times we go through it. i can already picture the scene, it's almost routine at this point. your sparkling eyes when they find me in the crowded airport, your relieved sigh when i run to you, your hands clutching me so tightly like you don't want to let go either. it's always this damn airport. we should stop meeting like this. when the buzzing of my phone snaps me out of it, i know who's on the other end of the notification. a photo of your new polaroid camera, then a promise to make more memories to keep with us when you come back to me.

to love is to willingly weather this with you a million times and more. even if it hurts. maybe especially if it hurts. you're the reason i keep going. you're the reason why the sun rises in the morning. let's talk about new york when you're here.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 02.07.2024]

[fungalittleweirdo]

chubby!reader × Donnie? he gets a tad bit flustered? maybe a bit of a spicy peice? praise kink🙏🙏🙏🙏

-👾🐈‍⬛️

already writing limes in the sfw blog, are we ?

jules fears NOTHING !!

i love writing this kind of content anyway >:)

if you wanted something higher on the citrus scale i shall direct you to my other blog, @fungalittlefreak where you could get even more specific with whatever you desire !!

i initially wanted to make this longer but i'm swamped with so many things to do, might have a part two if there's demand for it.

one chubby reader x flustered donnie coming right up B)

thank you for the request anon <3

important side note: while i don't deem this as "mature content" i feel more comfortable if anyone 15+ could interact with this post, otherwise please don't read or interact. while i can't force you not to, i hope anyone below 15 years old could respect my wishes.

May I?

It's movie night in the Hamato household and you're invited! April said you didn't have a choice, so here you are contemplating on wearing something comfortable or something cute.

Delivered (18:42 PM): is this too much? i'm bringing a change of clothes because i'm sleeping over

apes (18:42 PM): oooo who are you trying to impress

apes (18:42 PM): god i hope it's not leo

apes (18:42 PM): you deserve better

You shake your head, grinning at your phone as you send your last message to April.

Delivered (18:43 PM): i'll never tell :)

You finish getting ready and grab your overnight bag, heading over to the lair. The clattering and chattering in the kitchen tells you that the brothers would be in there, but you spot Donnie alone on his phone in the projection room. He seems comfortable enough not to wear his battle shell, which you find surprising. You take a step toward him and he looks up, turning to you as you put your stuff down beside the couch. He stops, staring while you move to sit beside him, even though you already greeted him, waiting for his response.

"Uh, yes. H-hello. Greetings. Good evening."

He looks away, then looks at you out of the corner of his eye. You grin and lean in with a smirk. He blushes, then a nervous smile plasters itself on his face. "D-do you need anything from me?" Donnie asks politely, but his eyes darted everywhere, scanning you as if he is committing the way you look right now to memory.

"A kiss might be nice."

The softshell freezes and it looks like his brain is malfunctioning, his face warming at the thoughts racing through his mind.

"May I?"

He reaches up to cup your soft face in his hand. His fingers twitch as if he's holding himself back from holding you firmly. You nod with a whispered yes, leaning in for a delicate, soft kiss. The softshell perks up and a dopey smile spreads across his face after you part, then he leans in for a deeper kiss, the heat on both your faces burning a little hotter.

"Your lips taste so good," Donnie breathes, threading his fingers through your hair at the base of your skull, holding you close as the two of you made out on the couch. "So sweet for me..." He whines, his blush darkening his face even more while he reaches for you with his other hand, holding you against him. His fingers knead the plushness above your hip for a moment, the hitching in his breath apparent. After another minute or so the two of you officially part, noticing the lair has gotten quiet.

You turn around to find nearly everyone with their jaws dropped to the floor, eyes boggled. Donnie sneers, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you against him possessively. The way his hand grips your tummy made you yelp, feeling embarrassed now that the two of you were caught. April snaps a picture, Leo snickers, Mikey cheers, and Raph narrows his eyes in suspicion, then smiles, proceeding to whack Leo upside the head before he moves over to tease Donnie. The Caseys walk in with two bowls of popcorn, Junior has a knowing look on his face while CJ looked on in confusion to the commotion. You sigh with a grin, shaking your head and relaxing in Donnie's arms as movie night started to kick off.

[jok13-writings]

Something About Us (Modern AU, Gyuraro x reader) Part 4

Read Chapter 3 here | Read full work on AO3 here

Note: So happy to be hable to post again! This took me so long but it was so much fun! I have been trying to improve my writing, hope it shows! ^^

The sun pecked from under the blinds of your room and cast a soft light into your face, waking you up from your slumber. As you slowly fluttered your eyes open, you felt a familiar scent hit your senses. It was the scent of cigarettes and something akin to metal… but there was something else, a unique scent that belonged just to him. 

You felt butterflies in your stomach as you recognized the smell, and buried your face into the fabric of his jacket. Last evening events came flooding back into your mind; Working all afternoon beside him on the project, how he accompanied you to your apartment… and how you dared to kiss his cheek. 

You blushed and felt embarrassed as you recalled all those moments, and you wished you haven’t been so shy during the time you two worked together on the project. There were so many things you wanted to know about him, so many things you could have asked… 

Saturday, 10 pm - you checked the time on your phone. With a sigh, you decided to sit up on the bed and try to start your day. 

You took a long shower, the warm water cascaded down your body making you feel relaxed. While you were in there you decided that today was going to be one of those lazy days. A blanket wrapped around you, a bowl of popcorn, and real housewives playing on the TV of the living room. 

After the shower you dried yourself off and got dressed in comfy clothes. A black soft sweter and some baggy pants. Humming a song you didnt even know the name of you walked to your kitchen, needing your daily dose of caffeine, but as you reached on the shelf for the coffee you noticed that you had run out of it. 

What a nice way to start the day. 

With a sigh you quickly put on your shoes to go buy some coffee at the local grocery store. 

Before leaving, you grabbed Gyutaro’s jacket and wrapped it around yourself. It was kinda chilly outside anyway, you told yourself as an excuse to wear it. 

As you walked out of your apartament block you felt the autum air suround you and the orange and brown leaves coloring the saidwalks. You arrived at the small grocery store just two blocks away and said goodmorning to the owner, an old man with a warm smile. 

Struttening directly to the isle where the coffee was, you grabbed the coffee that you liked the most and directly went to the counter to pay. Like usual, you were making small talk with the owner when you pulled out your wallet to pay. 

But as you where about to take out your card what you found in your hands was a men’s wallet. 

You opened it confused for a moment, and as you did the first thing you saw was his ID. 

You froze. 

Gyutaro Shabana, 

born on February 24, 

and an ID picture of him that seemed more like a mug shot than anything. 

You gasped as realisation hit you. You didn’t just kept his jacket, you also had accidentally kept his wallet. 

“Sorry! I will be back on another moment” You said quickly to the owner as you rushed outside and tried to call Gyutaro. 

He seemed to not have noticed that I have it yet. You thought as you waited for him to pick the call while you paced nervously on the side walk, but he never responded. Could he be still sleeping? 

But then your remembered that one day someone told you that Gyutaro used to work on weekends. Pobrably that flashy guy from an artsy major, Tengen, you thought was his name. He had mentioned to you and your friends during one of the class breaks that he had seen Gyutaro on the mall working on a tech shop. 

You didn’t want Gyutaro to get mad at you, you already did not give back his jacket yesterday when he had especifically mentionet that it was his only jacket, and now you also had his wallet… 

So without giving it a second thought you ran back to your apartament and took your bicycle to go to the mall. 

As you pedaled furiously toward the mall, your mind raced, and you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you’d messed something up. You had his jacket and his wallet, and what if he got angry when he found out? You winced at the thought of him confronting you.

— 

Meanwhile, across the city, Gyutaro sat in a small, dimly lit break room at the tech shop, the small chair cracking under his weight. 

He rubbed his temple as he took a sip of his coffee. Last night he barely slept, tossing and turning on his bed all night as he remembered how you smiled at him, how your voice sounded and that kiss. 

He felt his chest clench at the memory and he touches his cheek absentmindly as if he tried to burn in his skin the memory of your touch. 

Fuck, that feeling again, he thought as he closed his eyes, looking as if it physically hurt to think about yesterdays events. 

Had he imagined that? Surely a girl like you would’t touch a guy like him like that… it had happened so fast that maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him…

His thoughts where suddenly interrupted by the sound of the metal door of the break room opening. Kaigaku, Gyutaro’s friend, walked in carring one of those specialized gaming laptops that he assumed that was for fixing. 

“Still thinking about that chick?” Kaigaku teased with a smirk as he placed the laptop on the old table, making Gyutaro grunt in annoyance and blush under his messy bangs. 

Kaigaku pissed him off to the core sometimes but to Gyutaro he was one of the fewer people he could consider as a friend. After all, thanks to Kaigaku he had gotten this job as a tech repair, working in the back without having to deal with customers, just as he licked it. 

“Shut the fuck up already. If I’d known you’d be this nosy, I wouldn’t have told you shit.” Gyutaro said deffensively as he stod up from his chair, walking to the sink to leave his mug there and giving his back to Kaigaku. 

That morning Gyutaro had let his muth run out and told his “friend” about yesterday’s events. Kaigaku, shocked with the fact that Gyutaro was merely interested in any woman, had been asking questions nonstop since then and messing with his friend. 

“Fine, fine, but she is kinda hot, ya know? can I see that pic again?” 

Gyutaro tensed as he heard that and gripped the counter tightly, knuckles turning white from the force. Even thought he would never accept it, he was already very protective of you. 

Kaigaku just chuckled as he noticed his friend’s back tense and pated the laptop on the table. 

“Anyway, gotta have this one ready for this afternoon, think you can manage?” He said with a smirk changing the topic, knowing when it was enough teasing with Gyutaro. 

Gyutaro let go a heavy breath, relaxing slightly, and turned to face his friend. “Yeah, tell them I will have it done by 4pm” he said dismissively as he gestured his friend to just leave him with his hand. 

As a response, Kaigaku just made a salute with his fingers, his smirk not faltering enven once in his face, and walked out of the break room to attend the customers of the store. 

With a grunt Gyutaro pushed himself off of the counter and took the laptop from the table. He walked to the workshop in the back, a place where he could just get lost between the machines in need of fixing. 

—

After getting lost a few times in the bast streets of the city you finally arrived at the mall with your bicycle. Sweting and panting you rested your bicycle on a wall outside of the techshop and quickly made your way inside to look for Gyutaro. 

Your hair was messy in a high ponytail, some of your baby hairs stuck out stubbornly, and your cheeks where flushed from all the cardio you did to get there. You skaned the inside of the shop as you paced around, but to your surprise there was no trace of Gyutaro. 

You where losing hope until you crossed one of the aisles and almost bumped into a black haired guy that was wearing a yellow shirt that seemed to be the work attire of the shop. 

“Hey, can I help you with anything?” The guy said with a cocky smirk and a politeness that seemed heavily staged as he leaned one arm to the shelf beside you. 

Kaigaku, you could read in the nametag in his shirt. 

Kaigaku had noticed you from afar since the moment you steppent in. He was good with faces and he could almost swear that you were the same girl from the picture that Gyutaro had shown him that morning. He couldn’t believe a girl like you could even give a second glance to his ugly friend, and if it was true it made him a little jealous. 

You tensed to his proximity and stepped back to create some space between the two of you, feeling a little uncomfortable. “Um.. yes, I’m looking for someone that might work here” you said hesitantly. “His name is Gyutaro, do you happen to know him?” 

Kaigakus brows shot up in surprise as you asked directly for his friend. So it was really true, lucky bastart… 

He let go a snort of laughter in disbelef “Yeah, I happen to know him. He works in the back.” He remarked with fluid gesture of his hand, with his thumb pointing at the back door. 

Your face lit up immediately “Really? And can I see him?” you asked with a hint of impatience and hopefulness.

Gyutaro’s friend raised an eyebrow in surprise by your eagerness and gave you an once-over, noticing the jacket that was too big on you to be yours. “I guess you could, but why is a girl like you so eager to see a grump like him?” he asked already turning to guide you to the back of the shop. 

You explained everything to the guy named Kaigaku as he walked you to the back of the shop, and discovered that he seemed to be a good acquaintance of Gyutaro. 

“Don’t worry much, he won’t be mad, even thought he may act like it” He half  reassured you as he let you in a small hallway with a few doors. You could hear faintly some Punk music being blasted from the other side of one of the doors. 

Kaigaku walked directly to the door to the left and without even bothering to knock he opened it, the volume of the music now even unpleasant to the ears from how high it was. You covered your ears in a vain intent to preserve your hearing abilities and followed him inside. 

As you stepped inside, you immediately found yourself facing a room that looked like a tech workshop, centered around a large table cluttered with gadgets and tools scattered carelessly across its surface. Two large speakers sat on either side of the table, easily identifiable as the source of the music. Sitting in a chair, hunched over the table, you spotted a concentrated Gyutaro who seemed to be dissecting some kind of computer. The room smelled like a mix of cigarettes and metal, adding a gritty edge to the space.

“Gyutaro! Someone is here to see you!” Kaigaku raised his voice in order to be heard throught all the noise. Gyutaro barely lifted his gaze from what he was doing. 

“Why the fuck are you bothering me? I already told you, I would have it by 4pm!” Gyutaro retorted grufly. 

Kaigaku let go a laugh as he noticed that his friend wasn’t even paying attention and just waited for Gyutaro to lift his gace. 

After what felt for you like several minutes, Gyutaro let go an annoyed grund and paused the music,  eventually freeing your ears from the torture. 

“What the hell do you want?” He asked aggressively finally lifting his gace. For a moment he semeed to not have noticed you as the silence stretched, so you moved hesitantly from behind Kaigaku, your ponytail bouncing to the side with the tilt of your head. 

“Hi, Gyutaro” You said shily as you waved your hand awkwardly. 

As you stepped out from behind his friend and finally met Gyutaro’s gaze, his mind seemed to short-circuit and his heart almost stop working. For a full minute, he was at a complete loss for words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. He felt like if he was seeing things. 

“You… what are you doing here?” He managed to stemmer out, his voice softer than usual. His cheeks got a slight shade of red behind the black birth marks. He couldn’t help but feel a flutter in his chest as he noticed you still wearing his jacket. 

But the moment didn’t last long. Quickly his wall where up and his face hardened, masking the glimpse of his real feelings that he could have caressly shown. 

He quickly got up, towering over you. For a moment you had forgotten how tall and intimidating he really was. 

“How the hell did you know I worked here? and why are even here?” His tone accusatory as if you where some kind of stalker. He didn’t even know why he was raising his voice now or acting this way towards you. You just made him feel things, things he did not understand and didn’t know how to manage emotionally. 

Your heart sank and you stepped back, suddenly startled by his tone. “Um.. I… I just…-”

"Hey, easy there, bro" Kaigaku quickly interrupted, trying to ease the situation, placing a hand on Gyutaro’s shoulder.

He might be an asshole of a friend sometimes, but even for him it was painful to watch Gyutaro blow his chances like that - especially knowing how much he actually liked you.

“Let her explain. She tried to call you, but you ignored your phone, like always,” Kaigaku said, patting his friend’s shoulder with a knowing smirk.

Gyutaro slightly relaxes and looks away flustered, not daring to meet your gace. His hands unclenching on his sides. 

“Good, I’ll leave you two alone, have to go back to attend the costumers” Kaigaku announced as he sensed his friend calming down. “Be nice” He whispered to Gyutari on the ear fondly before stepping back. Then he gave you a smirk and walked out of the room leaving the two of you alone. 

As the door clicked shut behind Kaigaku, a thick silence settled in the room.

You stood there, awkwardly fidgeting with the wallet in your hands, the oversized jacket still wrapped tightly around you like a shield. Gyutaro, now fully facing you, looked… conflicted. His brows were furrowed, but there was no venom in his gaze anymore. Just tension, discomfort, and maybe a flicker of confusion.

You broke the silence first.

“I didn’t mean to… you know, stalk you or anything,” you said softly, eyes briefly meeting his before looking down again. “I found your wallet in the jacket when I was at the store. I tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up. So I remembered someone mentioning you worked here, and…”

You forced yourself to shut up and extended the wallet toward him with both hands, like it was something sacred.

Gyutaro stepped closer. His fingers brushed yours for a second too long when he took it from you. You saw him hesitate. He opened the wallet briefly, then closed it, as if he wasn’t really checking it but buying time.

“Sorry for keeping it… and your jacket…” You muttered not meeting his gaze. 

Gyutaro was processing everything slowly. Maybe to someone else it would’ve seemed like a small gesture. Just a girl returning a wallet. Just a few words of apology. But to him… it was monumental.

You’d come all the way here for him. You wore his jacket. You apologized.

He couldn’t recall a single time in his life when someone had apologized to him. Not for bumping into him. Not for mocking him. Certainly not for caring too much. It unsettled him in a way he didn’t know how to name.

“…You’re weird,” he muttered, not unkindly, more like he was still trying to make sense of you. “You didn’t need to come all the way here” 

“I just… we seemed to start to get on the right foot together, I didn’t want to mess it up” You said with total honesty with a chuckle. 

Gyutaro blinked slowly, his brows furrowing like he didn’t quite understand your logic.

“You were worried about messing it up?” he repeated, almost incredulously, like the thought hadn’t occurred to him that someone like you could care enough to be worried about him, about whatever was this between you two.

You nodded sheepishly, tugging at the hem of the jacket “Yeah. I mean, we were finally talking, you weren’t glaring at me as much, and... I don’t know. You smiled a little yesterday. That was nice.”

“I didn’t… smile,” he grumbled, brushing the back of his neck like he hoped to rub the memory away.

But as he said it, the corner of his mouth betrayed him, lifting just slightly. 

And that tiny, reluctant smile?

It made your heart melt.

[celestialprincesse]

miss angie your writing is so mmmmmmm yummy. especially the way you write soap.

that being said, i have a request for you !❤️

soap x goth!reader ? i think he'd be a little intimidated but up for the challenge anyways. & turns out reader isn't as scary as he thought (kinda like a certain LT).

if not, that's okay ! just wanting to let you know how much i appreciate your writing !❤️

THANK YOU POOKIE!!💕🎀🥴 I jus wanna squish Johnny's cheeks and tell him I love him💖

Your presence looms like a dark cloud over the corner of the café Johnny normally sits in. As a matter of fact, you're in his seat - the same one he sits in every day for a latte and a slice of carrot cake, the type that reminds him of home. The massive, clothboundbook in your hands taunts him, tells him you're planning to sit in his seat for a whole and makes his jaw tick. Realistically, he knows that his anger is unfounded. He's never seen you before, and it's hardly like there's a sign on the table saying 'reserved for Johnny MacTavish'. He should ask about that.

The next day he comes in earlier, hoping that maybe, you won't be there in his seat, maybe you'll have taken your stompy boots and Oscar Wilde novel and fucked off somewhere else. No such luck. He's too pissed off to order his carrot cake, to sit in another spot, far from the door and closer to the crowded center of the café. He's too pissed of to smile at the lovely waitress that always makes sure to give him an extra sugar packet with his coffee or packs an extra slice of cake into a to go bag. You have well and truly pissed him off.

Who do you think you are? In your dark eyeliner and chipped black nail polish, with your black clothes and fancy books.

A week comes and goes, and each day is the same. On Sunday, however, Johnny gets there first. He lets out a triumphant huff as he plops down in his seat, orders his cake and coffee before letting his mind drift. A meek voice snaps him from his reverie. Of course it's you, probably come to gob off at him about how he's sitting in your seat and how you want it back. But then why are you speaking so softly? It's almost as though you're nervous.

"I'm really sorry to interrupt." You mumble, looking down at the worn leather of your shoes. "Would you mind if I sat with you? I've been working on a project for my art portfolio - taking pictures here every day for a month to see what changes." The sight of a small, clearly vintage camera makes the balloon of anger deflate in his chest.

"Oh, right. Aye." He nods slowly, a little bashful, as though you'd somehow seen through his flesh and bone to the simmering, unfounded hate for you dwelling in his heart. "Thanks!" You chirp sweetly, suddenly far less nervous as you drop your satchel on the floor at your feet.

"So," He chirps up, clearly trying to diffuse the awkwardness between you. "I - uh - I like yer shoes. They're very cool." "Thank you." Is accompanied by a blush burning across your cheeks, bottom lip pulled between your teeth at the compliment. "I like your hair." "Ah, thank ye. I grew it myself."

Johnny's heart jumps in surprise at the sound of the bright laugh he manages to elicit from you with his B grade pun. It's nice, hearing someone laugh at something he has to say.

"So, are ye in art school or..?" The Scotsman keeps up the comfortable chatter between you, the sound of your two forks clinking against the china plate, in which your shared piece of carrot cake resides, is background noise for your conversation. "I was. I'm actually applying for a teaching position at the moment - hence the portfolio."

You two chat for far longer than you mean, and soon his phone is blowing up with messages from Simon (who he definitely needs to introduce you to) asking where he is and if he's coming to the gym or not.

"Same time tomorrow, yeah?" "Same time tomorrow, Johnny."

｡ ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ

I hope this was ok! I've got like no experience with any kind of goth subcultures because I'm a little corquette croquette croquet bitch 😔 n e hoo

[roseate-rose]

Feedist Kinktober day 1!

Prompts:

Story:

“Isn’t it kind of late to plant pumpkins?”

She shakes her head, pulling the homemade apple sucker she bought at the last booth out of her mouth with a pop. “Mm, I thought that too, but the guy said these are a fast-growing varietal or something,” she says. “Look, here’s one he planted in August.” She shows me a picture on her phone.

“Wow. That’s impressive,” I say, but I’m not buying it. There’s no way a pumpkin that big was only planted two months ago. But I’m not about to ruin her fun. I mean, the worst that happens is she plants the seeds and they don’t grow, right?

Honestly, I’m surprised —not that she got the seeds, mind you; she’s always getting into little projects like that — but that unlike her other pet projects, she actually stays pretty dedicated to this one. I mean, she did leave the kitchen a mess with all the potting soil, but other than that, this is the most attentive I’ve ever seen her to something that requires this much patience.

I’m also surprised because it does actually seem to be growing pretty fast. The day after she plants it, she pulls me over from my desk and shows me excitedly the tiny, curling green sprout poking up out of the dirt. “It’s our baby!” she exclaims, which our cat seems to take personal offense to.

She’s taken to reading it stories. She’s also taken to eating all the cherry tomatoes I got for my salads, but I can’t be that mad at her — she’s so cute about it, popping six or seven in her mouth at a time so her cheeks bulge out like a little hamster. She’ll sit there on the kitchen floor next to the pot, a snack in one hand and a book in the other, like it’s her favorite spot in the world.

“Talking to plants is good for them! We want our baby to grow up big and strong, don’t we?” she says.

By day five, it’s starting to grow its first leaf, and she makes up this little song about it — “oh, pumpkin baby, pretty green girl~ Prettiest pumpkin in the whole wide world~!” I actually think she’s the prettiest pumpkin out there, but I don’t say it.

“Man, there is not enough room in this kitchen,” she says day nine. Half of that is probably just because she’s covered every available surface with cookie sheets, but the other half is definitely the vines that have started sprawling over the tile and climbing up the cupboards.

Well, and we have to consider that her ass brushes the opposite counter when she bends to take things out of the oven. Did it always do that? I honestly don’t remember. The cookies are great though, especially smothered in homemade apple butter.

“Come look, babe! It flowered!” She calls on day sixteen as I’m bringing in the groceries. She’s sitting on the floor next to the pot, holding up a bright yellow flower for me to see. She’s also not wearing any pants.

“What, were you so excited about the plant you forgot to get dressed?” I laugh.

“N-no!” She says, flushing bright red. “I just… I couldn’t find any pants that fit me.”

Well, not like it matters when it’s just the two of us here. I bend down and kiss her forehead, then give her belly a little poke. “You’re going to blend right in at the pumpkin patch,” I tease, which makes her blush harder.

“Don’t be silly. Anyway, is that food? What did you get?”

The flower only blooms for a day. The next day it’s closed and wrinkled, and she pouts, poking it worriedly. She perks up alright when the oven dings to let her know her cornbread is done, though. (Between you and me, the cornbread is also gone within the day.)

Mind you, I was just joking around when I said she’d blend in at the pumpkin patch. But when the actual gourd starts growing, if I didn’t know better I’d honestly think she was trying to prove me right. Although mostly I’m just worried that between her and the rapidly widening orange abomination she dotes on we won’t have a kitchen at all by the end of October.

“Look how big our baby is getting!” she coos on day twenty-four. Her belly squishes over the top of her new sweatpants — in her favorite sunset orange, of course. The pumpkin looks almost pale in comparison, and she’s definitely got it beat on roundness.

“What are you going to do with it?” I ask.

“Pie, of course,” she says.

It takes our neighbors coming to help just for us to get the pumpkin off the floor and onto the table so we can cut it up, once Halloween comes around and it’s finally fully ripe. Of course, we thank them for their help by sending them home with two of the pies we make from the thing.

I was worried at first that it would have been too big to be flavorful, but she proves me wrong pretty quickly, eating so fast she gets whipped cream all over her chubby cheeks. (I did have some pie myself, mind you, but it’s hard to focus on flavors when someone’s being that cute right in front of you.)

“You gotta stop letting me eat so much,” she groans the morning after.

“Mm-m, no way,” I mumble into her neck, still half asleep but squeezing her a little tighter.

“I’m serious,” she laughs, kissing my nose. “Like it’s not even funny, do you feel how round I am?”

“Mhm,” I nod. “Prettiest pumpkin in the whole wide world~” I sing sleepily.

I hope we grow an even bigger one next year.

[lavender-long-stories]

Spoilers for Why Is It Always You? | Chapter 1 | Rated T

The class ranking pinned to the bulletin board mocked her. Hinata didn’t even need to look at the first spot to know who it was. Disappointment was her base emotion at this point. It didn’t even feel like anything anymore. She took a picture anyway. Her father would want the evidence of what to scold her with when she got home.

“Second best again.”

Hinata closed her eyes to conceal her annoyance. Sasuke Uchiha was leaning against the wall with a smug smile. She didn’t need to see him to know it. She could feel it burning against the back of her head.

Spoiled brat.

Hinata ignored him, heading back to the classroom. She worried that one of these times, she would lose her temper and smack him. She melted into her seat, pressing her face on her books, looking out the window at the spring rain. Was the sky crying for her?

“I’ll just try harder. Even if it doesn’t get me any further.” Hinata promised herself.

“Hmm?” Shikamaru twitched his head up from the seat in front of her, blinking drowsily.

Hinata blushed. Hopefully, he didn’t hear that. “Nothing. Sorry.”

Shikamaru rolled his head up on his arm to look back at her. “Looking defeated doesn’t sell the pep talk.” He did hear her, wonderful.

She just wanted to sink through the floor. “Just ignore me.”

Shikamaru’s eyes slid close. “If there’s no spirit left, it’s not going to matter how hard you try.”

Why did he have to be right all the time? Hinata bit down her bottom lip to keep from pouting. At least she knew he wasn’t judging her. He was far too practical for that. His words were genuine, but that didn’t always make them helpful.

She would just have to see if she could take it to heart at this point.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Sasuke thumbed at his phone screen. No messages. No calls. If it weren’t the only lifeline to knowing if his brother was okay, he would chuck it in frustration. He reread his last message.

‘I got first place in class ranking.’

Students swarmed the halls, moving between classes, adding their chatter to the noise in his head. Why couldn’t he skip today? He didn’t want to be here. It wasn’t like he was focusing on a lecture while waiting for his brother to get out of surgery. He would be doing just as much in a hospital waiting room.

Hinata Hyuga ignored him as she passed him down the hall, darting her eyes away when hers accidentally met his. She then turned a big fake smile to one of the two oddballs that followed her around.

Pompous bitch.

Beating her always had a certain sweetness to it. Even if it was easy, it knocked her down a peg. She was like every other entitled rich girl. No one believed him because she was too good at hiding it behind her innocent, ‘shy girl’ routine.

Why would she participate in the pageant every year if she wasn’t vain? Why would she volunteer for every after-school project if she wasn’t boasting? Why would she run for student council if she wasn’t full of herself?

Sasuke would love to crack that perfect little mask she wore and show everyone just how conniving and scheming she really was, but he was the only one who saw the hate in her eyes when she looked at him.

A project for another day. He refreshed his screen, but still no messages, and he had to get to class.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“This group project will be a significant portion of your grade for the rest of this quarter. You’ll need to research and make logical conclusions, which for some of you will be a struggle,” Kakashi handed out papers. “I will give you some class time with your partners, but that is not going to be enough to finish this project. You are going to have to do this on your own time if you want to pass. I could continue, but you aren’t going to listen to me.” He headed up to his podium. “You can stop looking around for partners. I already picked them out based on your skill level and competency.”

The class groaned.

Kakashi started listing groups. Very few people were excited about their partners. Hinata felt her heart sink as soon as both Kiba and Shino were chosen for other groups. It looked like she would be doing all the work again.

“And that leaves Hinata Hyuga and Sasuke Uchiha.” Hinata snapped her head over at Sasuke, and then she closed her eyes in pain. Wonderful.

Ino’s hand shot up. “They’re both top students. How is that fair?”

Kakashi dismissed her with a half-hearted wave. “This isn’t a competition. You’re not being tested against them. I just want to have one competent report to read by the end of this. On the handout is the list of acceptable topics and the parameters. Extra points to the students who take the challenging topics. You have the rest of the class to talk with your partners. I want your chosen topic and main point by the end of the week.” Kakashi sat down, burying his head in a book like he always did. He was notorious for his projects and worksheets. It forced you to learn about something without him having to do anything.

Hinata glanced over at Sasuke. He wasn’t coming to her. She picked up her things, but there were no open chairs around him. If anything, he was more crowded than normal.

Sasuke kicked Naruto’s chair in front of him. “Move.”

Naruto flicked his head around, annoyed, but saw her and flashed a smile before moving to the other side of his own partner. Sweet of him.

Hinata settled into Naruto’s seat, turning around to set her notebook on Sasuke’s desk. She wasted no time making small talk. He wasn’t going to give her a serious answer anyway. She skimmed the handout, turning it for him and pointing at one of the challenge topics. “I know this topic rather well.”

“Then it’s not really a challenge, is it?” Sasuke leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

So, he was going to be difficult. Fine. She pushed the list to him. “Which would you like to do?”

Sasuke glanced at the list. “Last on is less boring.”

Hinata wasn’t going to argue with him. She was probably going to be doing a lot of this. Diverting to his opinion just to get the work done. She marked it on her sheet. “We’ll need to meet at the library a few times a week. We are already both on the student council. Would you like to meet after that?”

Sasuke made a face. “Why not before?”

“I have fencing.” Sasuke rolled his eyes. This was going to be painful. “I also give music lessons twice a week and have to be in the radio studio for three shifts.”

Sasuke’s head rolled back dramatically. “Anything else?”

“I have to be home every day by nine,” Hinata added.

“Of course you do.” Sasuke huffed. “I can’t meet today, but other than student council and basketball practice, I am free. You have my number from the student council. Just text me when you’re done with whatever tomorrow.”

Hinata would have to give him credit for at least working with her schedule. Group projects usually fell apart as soon as she explained what she did during the week. She pulled out her planner, made a quick copy, and slid it to him. “This is my general schedule. I am available outside these times if you need me.”

Sasuke didn’t look at it. Just slid it into his notebook and closed it, crossing his arms over it, laying his head down, and looking out the window. Ending the conversation.

This was going to be a nightmare.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

‘I am proud of you.’

Itachi was awake. That at least meant that the surgery wasn’t completely botched, but it didn’t tell him if the surgery was effective. Sasuke rubbed his face with his open hand. Should he grab him something before heading to the hospital?

“Hey.” Naruto clamped his arm around his neck, jerking him down. “Stop moping.” Sasuke shoved him off, but he was unfazed, bouncing back up to him. “Excited about the group project?”

“Why would I be?” Sasuke stopped at the lunch hall.

Naruto shrugged. “Hinata’s your type, isn’t she?”

Sasuke’s face contorted. “What the hell makes you think that?”

“Well, you hate girls that are clingy, loud, and stupid. So I would think you would like the opposite.” Naruto put his hands out like it was obvious.

Sasuke shook his head as he crossed the lunchroom. “I’ll be happy when this is over. I see enough of her at student council.”

“She’s cute, at least.” Naruto pushed.

“Don’t let Sakura hear you say that.” Sasuke grabbed a tray.

Naruto grabbed his own. “I said cute, not the pinnacle of beauty.”

“And yet Ino wins every year.” Sasuke countered by putting items on his tray.

“Blonde biased.” Naruto shrugged.

Sasuke paid for his tray. “Then why aren’t girls all over you?”

Naruto made a face. “I think it only works for girls.”

“Sure.” Sasuke rolled his eyes.

“There’s a dance coming up. She never has a date. You could ask her to it.” Naruto really wasn’t getting it, was he? Sasuke side-eyed him. “You’re really not going to have one girlfriend before the end of school?”

“Rich coming from you.” Sasuke rolled his eyes, moving to his usual spot.

“My heart is taken. I am just waiting.” Naruto put his hand over his chest dramatically as he followed suit, putting his tray down next to his. “And if you get a girlfriend, Sakura might actually let me take her out.” Yeah, that was going to do it. “But I would think Hinata and you might hit it off. You two are both smart, rich, and good-looking.”

Sasuke sighed. “Now it just sounds like you are flirting with me.”

Naruto made a dumb grin. “We might make a cute couple, too.”

Sasuke groaned, shoving him away. He hated it when Naruto was in a good mood.

Why Is It Always You? Pairing: Sasuke x Hinata  Rating: T Tags: Romance | Enemies to Lovers | Fluff and Angst | Highschool AU | Happy Ending Status: Complete

Hinata hates living in Sasuke's shadow. Sasuke can’t stand people thinking Hinata is innocent and well-meaning. They would like nothing more than to stop seeing each other, but the universe seems to have other ideas.

Image by duonguyen

[truthofherdreams]

poetry, beauty, romance, love

also on ao3

Belle stops in front of the door to the lecture hall, trying her best to calm her laboured breaths as she presses a hand to her chest. A group of students walks toward her in the corridor, so she takes a sip of her water as to hide her discomfort, although she is certain her red cheeks are betraying her anyway.

The walk from her College to the Medical Sciences building is a short one - on purpose - but she is yet to get accustomed to the strain on her heart every time she exerts herself, even slightly. She tried a bike instead, on her very first day in Oxford, but the results were not any better. Hopefully, her body will get used to those brisk walks across the city.

Thankfully, the lecture hall is almost empty when she enters, a whole half-hour before the lecture is actually meant to start, so Belle takes her time going down the steps, all the way to the very first row.  She selects her seat slightly to the left of the room, close to the still empty lectern. Behind her, two other students talk to each other in small whispers, while a girl at the very back is busy typing away on her phone.

Belle gets her own out of her pocket, checking for her latest messages. Despite the early hour, she has one unread message from her sister - a picture of Fanny’s current art project, one that has Belle frowning at her screen as she tilts her head to the side, trying and failing to guess what the meaning of the painting is meant to be. Maybe she will ask Fanny later, or maybe she will let her sister to her deranged phallic art pieces and sculptures.

Instead, Belle opens her laptop, hoping for at least twenty minutes to work on the assignment she was given yesterday. Barely half a way in Oxford, and she is already drowning in a sea of essays, reading assignments and lab notes. Well, any other student would be drowning. Belle is doing just fine.

“Seat’s taken?”

She looks up from her laptop, blinking in surprise at the boy next to her. She belatedly notices the room has filled up by now, whispers of two turned into a cacophony of voices. And this boy, still staring at her, now with his eyebrows raised.

“Hm, sorry, no - no it’s free.”

“Cool.”

He plops into the seat next to her, his long legs stretching in front of him under the table, as he drops a laptop right next to hers. The thing seems almost broken beyond repair, with faded stickers all over the back, one broken corner, and some tape keeping the screen from escaping from the keyboard. Belle forces herself not to comment, thankfully distracted from the acidic words on the top of her tongue when students start passing around piles of printed-out syllabi for the course.

Belle grabs one, even though she’s had it downloaded onto her iPad since last night. IPad she now fetches from her bag, along with a paper notepad and her pencil case. She neatly lines up her three favourite highlighters - blush pink, lavender and soft green, before she takes a sip of water.

And notices her seat neighbour staring at her.

“Problem?” she asks him, raising an eyebrow at her.

He shakes his head for a moment, tongue against the inside of his cheek, before he thinks better of it. “Have you watched any of those videos about those Sorority girls?”

She frowns. “I fail to see your point.”

“Bet you do.”

Then he turns his focus back on the (still off) lecture screen. The way he does it, so casual - too casual, even - immediately gets on her nerves. So what if she likes her notes to be neat and organised? So what if she will spend another hour after the lecture, going back through what she’s written, just to ensure everything is written well, colour-coded, highlighted, sticky-noted? She huffs in frustration as she turns back toward the front of the room too, but not before noticing his smirk from the corner of her eye. The jerk.

Professor McGregor chooses that perfect moment to make his way to the lectern, and all other thoughts leave Belle’s mind as she focuses on the man’s lecture. For the next hour, she dutifully takes notes, nodding to herself every time she remembers one of the facts from her past readings.

The professor might not be the liveliest, with the monotonous drawl to his voice, but his insights into the field still are satisfying to Belle. She does make a mental note to check his research papers later, out of curiosity more than anything else.

When Professor McGregor finishes his speech for the day, her ever so delightful neighbour jumps right out of his seat, broken laptop under his arm. He gives her a salute, as lazy as his grin is mocking.

“See you on Thursday, Bama Rush.”

“Fucker,” she grumbles.

He’s too far up the stairs to hear her.

…

Professor McGregor, as it turns out, also happens to be her tutor. Which is how, the next week, Belle finds herself in the professor’s quarters, overlooking the gardens of St John’s College. Despite being of a decent size, the room feels stuffy, with its large mahogany bookcases on every wall, its displayed human skeleton in a corner, and its wide array of nicknacks on every possible table, desk, and shelf. Very much absent from the room, though, is Professor McGregor himself.

“Do not touch that,” Hetty hisses.

Belle looks up, just in time to see Sneed’s hand retract from a large jar with what seems to be an embryo with two heads floating inside. Bell wrinkles her nose.

“What a waste of time,” Sneed complains, moving on to his observation of a polished skull on one of the bookcases. “At the price of tuition…”

“Cry me a river, Sneed,” Hetty replies. “We all know daddy dearest paid extra for you to be here.”

Belle stifles a laugh as Sneed glares at Hetty, who replies with her most condescending smile. Even though they’ve barely interacted so far, Belle enjoys Hetty’s company - she’s smart and sharp and unafraid to speak her mind, when the occasion calls for it. They could make great friends, given time, and Belle hopes this tutoring group will give their friendship the space it needs to blossom.

Hetty winks at her, and Belle smiles.

She is about to say something, when the door to the study opens, and all three heads snap to that direction.

But the good professor still is yet to make his entrance. Instead, the boy from last week’s lecture stands in the doorframe, blinking at the darkness of the room.

“Old git still not here, huh?” he says as he enters, door closing behind him. He didn’t bother with his broken laptop this time.

Actually, he didn’t bother with anything at all, strolling through the room with his hands in his pockets until he drops himself unceremoniously next to Belle on the small settee. She glares at him. He ignores her.

“They let anyone in these days,” Sneed mumbles, before he turns back to the bookcase.

“Indeed. Remind me, how many A* did you get?” the other boy retorts. “Three? Four? Oh no, wait. That was me.”

If looks could kill, Sneed would have murdered him on the spot with the glare he throws over his shoulder. Hatty rolls her eyes.

“Yes, Dawkins. We all know how smart you are,” she says, but her tone is more exasperate than biting. Like an old argument, repeated too many times.

Has Belle already missed on that much drama, even after only a week, by spending time between her bedroom and the library? Has life gone past her so fast, that enemies were made already?

Dawkins bumps his shoulder with Belle’s conspiratorially. “You heard that, right? She calls me smart!”

He offers her a shit-eating grin, the kind that makes Belle’s stomach do a little jump. Despite her best try at stoicism, she smiles too. The grin grows bigger.

There is a twinkle in his eyes, when they drop to her lips, a flash of something Belle doesn’t quite know how to name. It’s there and then it’s gone, his eyes meeting hers again - and here’s that mischief again, the boyish stupidity that fits him like a glove.

His mouth opens, slightly, like he's about to say something, and…

The door slams open.

They all startle.

Professor McGregor enters, his steps unsteady, his hand wrapped around the neck of a wine bottle. He stops, blinking at them in confusion, before he mumbles something that both his beard and the alcohol make inaudible.

Hetty is the first one to jump to her feet, to spring to action. “Should we come back tomorrow, Professor?”

He waves her off, before he drops himself in the closest chair and takes another long sip of his wine. Sneed can barely hide his grimace of disapproval, a reminder to Belle to smooth out her own features.

The professor gives them brief and confusing instructions on readings and reports to be completed for the next session, and research to be done in pairs. He vaguely points to Hetty and Sneed first, then to Belle and Dawkins, with some misogynistic comment about making it equal, giving a chance for the ladies to learn something. Then he waves them off, and they all scramble to escape as fast as they can.

Belle runs down the stairs, only allowing herself to breathe once she is on the lawn of the front quadrangle, head down and hands on her hips. She inhales deeply, to calm her heart and will the annoyance away.

“Here.”

She turns around, facing Dawkins. His arm is stretched toward her, paper in hand. She takes it carefully, then frowns down at the scribbles that make up a name - Jack, she guesses, even though it reads as Jeck - and a phone number.

“Got that doctor’s handwriting locked in,” she comments.

“Thanks, it’s the dyspraxia.”

She blinks, and swallows back a curse to herself. Of course she had to make a fool of herself, and insult him in the process. He may be infuriating, but that doesn’t mean she has a right to be that rude.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean…” “It’s fine,” he waves it away. “Just text me when you’re free for a trip to the library.”

…

It’s funny, how quickly new experiences become habits. How the unknown turns into the familiar in the blink of an eye. How Jack makes his way into her life, one infuriating jab at a time. 

Every Monday, ten o’clock on the dot, they meet in the same study room of St John’s College’s library, to study and work together on Professor McGregor’s assignments. The study room allows them privacy, so Jack can use the text-to-speech tools on his computer, or so Belle can read out loud some passages for the both of them. She proofreads his essays when his dyslexia gets the best of him, and he always brings her favourite snacks to avoid her sugar levels crashing.

Despite what she thought, it works seamlessly.

They fight, of course. On new medical research, on which technology to use, on grammar and methodology and whether Star Wars or Star Trek is the best. They argue, and yell, and get stern reminders to be quiet from the librarian. They help each other up, fact-check everything twice, and motivate each other when the burden of first year medicine becomes too much, the pressure, the workload, the late night study sessions.

One Monday at a time, he becomes part of her life, of her universe.

“Why don’t we ever study at yours’?” she asks him one particularly chilly November morning, when the library is so cold their fingers turned blue, until Belle gave up and dragged him all the way back to her dorm bedroom.

He lies down on the floor, fluffy blanket on top of him as he hugs one of her Squishmallows to his chest. “You don’t want to come to my place, believe me.”

“Why is that?” She puts her laptop aside, cross-legged on her bed, peering down at him. “Live in the dungeons?”

He scoffs. “Worse. Subletting from some old fart who used to be a porter for St Cross College till they caught him stealing from students.”

“What is he doing now?”

“Working at Costa.”

“And how did you meet this lovely gentleman?”

Jack’s smile is wry. “Working at Costa.”

Belle snorts a laugh. Not for the first time, she is reminded of the socio-economical differences between her and Jack. How she was sent to boarding school to Cheltenham Ladies’, while he did his studies in some no-name high school in South London. How her parents pay for her tuition, but he got in on a full scholarship. How she spends the summers in Greece, or Spain, or back home in Australia, while he’s stuck here, working to make meets end. How she has a loving mother, and a fool of a father, and a crazy sister, while he’s all alone.

They never properly agreed not to talk about it - not in so many words, at least - but sometimes, like today, it hangs between us. Heavy. Obvious.

“Do you fancy some tea?” she asks, to change the conversation, to lead it back to more comfortable topics, like anatomy and lab reports and lectures. Not Jack’s misfortune in life. Not Jack’s empty bank account. Not the way her heart misses a beat when he looks at her like that, open and vulnerable and oh so eager.

Her heart is used to skipping beats.

Not like that, though.

Never like that.

…

“The WHO defines health as…”

“A state of complete physical, mental, and social well-being,” Belle recites as she walks up and down the corridor.

Hetty hums at the back of her throat, before she switches to another card. “Decline in deaths from infectious diseases in the second half of the nineteenth century was mainly due to…”

“Improvements in diet, housing, and public sanitation.”

She is wringing her hands now, the motion nowhere near as soothing as it ought to be. Her bottom lip is raw from biting down on it and picking at the skin, and her heartbeat is going way faster than ever recommended by her own doctors.

“What is NOT a task of a sociologist in medicine?”

Belle pauses. Stops. Stares at Hetty. Hetty stares back.

“Develop theory that assists in understanding social issues related to health,” comes from behind her.

Belle sighs, and turns around. “Just because you can memorise everything by heart…”

“Please, Belle. We both know your memory is far better than mine could ever be.”

She wants to tell him that is not true. She wants to remind him he got better exam results than her last year. She wants to pout and says that he’s better than her at sociology, period. She wants…

He hands her a chocolate bar, and all her worries go away.

“Jack Dawkins, you are a blessing.”

He laughs, even though his cheeks turn red “Can I get that in writing?”

She waves him away, more to dismiss his unwanted silliness than anything else, but still has a moment of panic when he indeed starts walking away from the exam hall. From the corridor. From her.

Mouth full of chocolate, she gestures vaguely at the door. Jack grins, and walks back the few steps separating them to boop her nose with his finger.

“Different room. Extra time. You knew that, Fox.”

She did know that, indeed, knows his SPP by heart - the 25% extra time he gets for every exam, and the text-to-speech machine to help him go through the papers. It doesn’t make it any less difficult, to know he will not be in the hall with the rest of them, that the sight of his mess of blond hair will not be able to sooth her nerves during the exam. He’ll be right next door, but she might as well be all the way back in Sydney, for she will feel his absence just as well.

“You got it,” he says, and it’s soft and quiet and full of emotions she refuses to question now. “I’ll see you when I’m done, alright?”

She nods, and swallows around the chocolate pieces in her mouth. “Good luck.”

“No need for luck when you’ve got talent,” he winks at her.

…

She passes with a 96.

He does so too. With a 99.

…

Belle doesn’t remember how it happened.

Well, that is a lie. Her memories may be fuzzy around the corners, but she remembers every second, every moment, every word and every touch and every tiny, single detail of that afternoon.

It starts, as it so often does, with the end. The end of exam week, the end of an academic year, the end of their first year of medicine. It starts, as it so often does in Oxford, on the banks of the river, where the grass meets the water, where boats move lazily and students gather, bottles of cheap wine and packs of snacks in hand.

It starts on the bank of the river, laughing as Hetty kisses girls after girls after girls, and makes fun of Sneed for having no game, and no girlfriend, and no summer internship. It starts with a bottle of rosé against Belle’s lips, warming her stomach and her cheeks and her brain.

It starts when it ends, when the sun is so low everything turns golden and beautiful, like a painting from an era long gone. It starts with Jack and his golden hair, and his shining eyes, and the smirk he keeps just for her, for when she’s happy and carefree and on the right side of tipsy.

It starts with her laugh.

“Jack Dawkings, everyone!” she exclaims as loud as her lungs will let her, “Top of the class!”

People cheer and whoop and toast, any reason good enough for yet another drink. Belle’s arm is flung around his shoulders, her body pressed into him, and he chuckles against the mess of her hair.

“How much did you drink already?”

“Enough,” she replies, smug and proud and laughing.

“Yeah, right,” he says, and takes the bottle from her.

She pouts, but she doesn’t fight back, not even when he hands the bottle to some random guy just passing by. She’s tipsy but not drunk, and she’s fine with it - especially when Jack’s side is pressed against her chest, against her breasts, when his arm is wrapped around her waist and he holds her to him, strong and solid and present.

“Top of the class,” she whispers to him, softer this time.

He looks down at her, and he’s soft too. Bright eyes, even brighter smile. “And yet, you’re my number one.”

She kisses him. Or maybe he kisses her. Not that it matters, when his lips are on hers, when his fingers are in her hand and on her neck, when he grabs her and pulls her close, close, closer until she forgets where he stops and where she begins, until it’s only them, them, them.

When he breaks the kiss, it’s to rub his nose alongside the ridge of hers. Delicate. Loving. Adoring. She kisses him again, just because she can.

Hetty yells at them to get a room.

Belle happily obliges.

[invadernurse]

Catching Flies (Revised) Ch. 13

Chapter 13: Dark Revelations

Overall rating: Teen

Summary: You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. That’s what they say anyway.

Teacher!Reader makes the mistake of trying to help the two most troubled kids in your class. This leads to forming a science club, learning some childhood psychology, adopting an alien older than you, and somehow catching Professor Membrane’s interest.

Afab Non-binary Reader;

The reader does have a last name: Nemo– which means no-name.

Chapter One |Master post |Ao3

You had agreed to meet up with the Professor the next day at his lab. Which meant a few bus rides --more than usual since there were only a handful of buses working for the whole city-- and being filled with anxiety the whole time. After all, this was Membrane Laboratories. You had always wanted to visit and take one of their infamous tours, but never had the time (or money) to indulge yourself. 

And now you actually were. To meet up with Professor Membrane himself and get a new phone. 

Soon you found yourself staring at the gleaming building of Membrane labs; it was so much larger than you had anticipated, even though you had seen plenty of pictures and advertisements featuring it. 

 You tried to bolster your courage and calm your anxieties as you looked up at the gleaming building, but after a short moment of mental rallying it was obviously not going to happen. You ended up forcing your body to cooperate despite the hurricane currently raging in your stomach and walked up the marble stairs towards the doors.  

The glass doors slid open soundlessly as you approached, revealing the pristine lobby. Everything was state of the art, beautiful, and rather blinding. Nothing at all like the Membrane home.

 You felt tiny and insignificant in the wide-open lobby, watching in wonder as the vid-screens covering the walls showed many of the products or upcoming projects of the lab that were bound to revolutionize the world once more. Despite the size, only a few others milled about, usually in pairs deep in discussion and all dressed in white long lab coats. 

“Can I help you?” A tart voice called, bringing your attention back down to earth and over to the receptionist desk where a man and woman (in matching lab coats) sat. The man seemed preoccupied with the computer in front of him, but the woman was glaring at you from behind her glasses, making you feel even more out of place. 

"Hi…" you started quietly as you hurried over, feeling like it was taboo to break the imposing silence. "Um, I’m here to talk with Professor Membrane?”

Her scowl only deepened more as she scoffed;  "And you are?" You gave her your full name, and she barely glanced at the computer screen before replying shortly: "You don't seem to have an appointment."

"Oh, well…” Shit. You hadn’t even thought of that. You had expected… well, you weren’t sure what you expected. Maybe for him to leave a note that you would be by?  “I-I think he’s still expecting me," you continued, knowing full well how weak your excuse sounded. “I'm a, er, friend?" It wasn't quite the truth, and apparently your lie was blatant in your face judging by the sneer on her face. 

"I'm afraid that unless you have an appointment, I can't help you." 

They probably had hundreds of people that came in from the street every day, claiming the same thing.  

 But you weren’t just some crazy fan. Granted you were a fan, and sure you were a little crazy to even be doing this, but that's besides the point. "Please, just call him and tell him I’m here."  

She scoffed, "I am not interrupting the professor's hard work for another fangirl."

The man interrupted his coworker and placed a sleek phone on the counter near you, a smirk on his face. "Call him yourself, if you dare to bear the consequences."

His look made you pause, but you boldly stepped towards him. He dialed a number and placed you on speakerphone.

"I don't hear the alarms," Membrane growled annoyedly as soon as he answered. "I told you not to disturb me when I'm working."

"I'm sorry, Professor. But, um..." Maybe you had been mistaken? Maybe he meant later in the evening?

Before you could doubt yourself anymore he interrupted you, his tone changing completely. "Mx. Nemo, my apologies. I’m glad you came, I'll be up shortly!"

The line went dead, and you realized both receptionists were looking at you with a mixed expression of confusion and shock. You pushed the phone back towards then, your doubt gone and replaced with confidence and a smidge of smugness. "Thank you!"

--+--

You only had to wait a few minutes before you heard heavy bootsteps against the marble floor, making you look up from the magazine you had found. Despite literally waiting for him,  your heart still did a little odd skip when you saw Professor  Membrane hurrying towards you, something clutched in one of his hands. 

"I'm sorry it took so long," he amended as he drew closer, holding out what looked like a simple white phone. "Here is our latest phone, set to go on the market later this year. I was going to give you the newest prototype but it's still prone to blowing up on occasion. This one, however, only rarely blows up and emits very faint gamma radiation," 

You paused for a second, caught off guard before remembering his odd sense of humor. You studied what little of his face you could see and caught the signs of a smile around his goggles, making you grin while a warm pleasant feeling fluttered in your chest. "I won't turn into the she hulk?" You couldn't help but quip back.

You swore his smile had grown, despite not being able to see it. "Theoretically, no. However, I wouldn’t be completely surprised."

There was no stopping the giggles that escaped even as you focused your attention on the phone-- it was nothing like your beat-up flip phone. This was sleek, shiny, and obviously one of the top-of-the-line products. "I really can't accept it though," you protested as your smile fell. "It's probably worth more than I make in a year…"

"Nonsense," he interrupted, pushing it into your hands. "Your current phone is an antique as well as nonfunctional thanks in part to my son. As, I assume, are most of your electronics."

You paused, internally admitting he was right. Everything was  fried. The only other choice you had was to go without, and that really wasn’t a choice at all. 

So you pushed your guilt aside and smiled back up at him as you accepted it. "Thank you, Professor. You're extremely generous."

There was a pause, and you think his eyebrows raised in surprise; though the faint pink on his pale skin was probably just your imagination. He coughed suddenly, as if catching himself. "Right. Let me show you how the Meme-phone 5000 works."

You could faintly hear the receptionists whispering as Professor Membrane led you to a nearby bench, which at best meant to hold two petite people and Membrane himself was no longer the bean-pole as he had been a few years ago and you were...well, you. Yet if he was bothered by your proximity, he didn't show it as you settled next to him, pressed between his side and the armrest. 

He rather proudly went through a demonstration of what the phone could do-- including but not limited to: projecting a holographic screen that you could use in lieu of a computer, download probably every song and podcast known to man and still have room, and free access to the Meme-cloud that had enough free storage for everything you could ever possibly need. Yet despite being amazed at the major upgrade that was now yours, you would find yourself stuck on studying the man beside you with equal awe and interest. 

You could easily see Dib in him. The excitement in his voice and how prone he was for going off on tangents into technical terms that went far above your understanding was just like his son. Honestly, it was to the point you had little doubt that behind his goggles he had the same look in his eyes as Dib had when you allowed him to explain what exactly a vampire-bee or Squid-squash was. 

“And, of course, it can make calls; video or otherwise,” Professor Membrane finally paused for a moment, looking almost...nervous as he swept through the options before pulling up the contact list. “I hope you don’t mind, but I preemptively added both my home number, lab extension, and cell number. In case you need to reach me. Dib’s and Zim’s numbers have been added as well. You won't believe how many times Zim’s little brother Gir has prank-called me,” he added hastily before adding: “I understand if that’s too far, now that I think about it. I apologize…”

“No!” you interrupted, grabbing his hand without thinking to reassure him. “That-that’s perfect, really. I, um, have taken them under my wing a bit, and told both of them they could call me for help if need be.” You hardly wanted to explain the details of covering for Zim’s lack of parent (which was a whole other can of worms). 

However, you weren’t a hundred percent sure getting caught in an awkward moment again with him was that much better. Silence hung between you and you caught sight of his eyes behind the thick glass (plastic?) of his goggles. In the light you were sure they were the same color as Dib’s, but perhaps a little darker. "You remind me so much of Dib," you blurted as soon as the thought crossed your mind, mainly just to end the awkwardness.

You could see him blink in surprise before he continued with a hint of uncertainty to his voice. "I'm not sure how to take that." 

"It's not bad!" You quickly amended, realizing how strange and weird most people saw his son. "I mean that you both have that passion for your interests. When Dib starts talking about his paranormal I don't understand half of what he is saying, but I enjoy listening nonetheless because I  can tell how much love and dedication he's poured into his research. And I can tell you're the same. And, well, I think it's… really cool." You finished lamely. "You're both so unabashedly passionate. I like it." 

To your surprise, you could see the bridge of his nose and ears turn pink as he looked away. "I,um," he cleared his throat as you realized he was embarrassed. "There's never a shortage of praise or compliments regarding my work, but that… those words mean a lot to me. Thank you, Mx. Nemo." 

"Not a problem," you returned, feeling rather flushed yourself. You were still holding his hand, but he was holding it so tight that it dispelled any thoughts of pulling away. 

You were holding the Professor's hand in public.

"I admit, I have difficulties relating to Dib,” he spoke after a moment with a softness to his tone as if admitting a deep secret. “Despite the genetic similarities, it's hard finding any common topics with the boy. This paranormal  nonsense of his is very hard to understand, to say the least." 

"He's twelve," you reassured, squeezing his hand softly. Were you really here giving parental advice to Professor Membrane? "I've studied their age group in college, but it's still hard to understand them. Their brains are still developing, so it's hard for us to relate. But you can still see the adults they’re becoming. Dib and Zim… I would be honestly surprised if they don't carry on your legacy. Their future's so bright it's blinding, so it's our job to help them grow and develop. That paranormal stuff may be nonsense, but he has developed amazing research skills because of it." 

Professor Membrane was quiet for a moment, making you internally scream at yourself for your awkward rambling. Of course he knew all of that! He was a leading scientist! He probably understood the whole childhood-mental-development thing far better than you did! 

 "While not technically scientifically correct,” he stated slowly. “I agree with your thesis. Those two have amazing potential."

He agreed with you. Well, you had kind of assumed he always had, considering the fact he had been helping you. But after the pushback and sneering you received from your peers, it felt nice to have it stated plainly. 

A shrill beeping from his coat pocket interrupted the moment, making both of you jump. You barely caught your new phone as he fumbled for the one ringing in his pocket. “Yes Jones?” he answered in a short but professional command. It was odd to be able to see him switch from the Professor Membrane you had come to know to the one you had seen on television and U-tune as he stood, commanding authority once more. “Again? No, I’ll be there shortly. Make sure to keep track of them this time. I told you the government isn’t happy that we already lost two of them.” 

He ended the call before looking back down to you, “I’m sorry, but I have to return to the lab. If you have any difficulties, please let me know."

You could only nod at watch as he strode purposefully towards the elevators before pausing just a few steps later and turning back towards you. "I always enjoy our conversations, Mx. Nemo. Perhaps we could… get together sometime just to talk some more?"

"I-I would love that," you stuttered, sure your face was on fire from how hot it felt. "Just let me know whatever or whenever works for you." 

"I will," he nodded before he continued to the elevators. 

Once the doors slid shut behind him the silence was broken once more. "Who are you?" The female receptionist asked with a mix of disgust, confusion, and curiosity. 

"No one," you said after a moment. "I'm no one." And yet here you were anyway. A friend of two child geniuses, and one of the most brilliant minds in the history of the earth. Who wanted to get to know you better. 

--+--

When Professor Membrane returned home that evening, things seemed relatively normal. Gaz was playing one of her video games while Dib was sitting at the kitchen table with a new issue of his Swollen Eyeball magazine. A typical quiet evening, which was actually quite atypical in itself. 

Usually, once assuring his children didn’t need anything, the professor would retreat down to his own personal lab to work on his personal projects. Yet tonight your words from earlier had stayed with him, and guided him to take a seat across from his boy. "What's the creature this month?"

He would usually never ask such a question. Usually he would silently despair at his son's insanity, or maybe comment how he wished his son would forget such nonsense. But he had to admit, Dib had proven quite competent at research because of it. 

"New evidence of half-fish mutants living in the mariana trench. Possibly an advanced civilization that moved Atlantis there so they could…" Dib trailed off, realizing what he was saying and to who. The boy looked up at his father skeptically, waiting for his typical rejection and scorn. 

Instead, Professor Membrane sat quietly, waiting for him to continue. Dib narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Aren't you going to criticize and tell me that's crazy or not scientific?" 

Membrane sighed, unused to the small jab of guilt at the accusation. "I had an enlightening conversation with Mx. Nemo today," he explained, "and I have decided to try a new approach." 

If anything, Dib became more suspicious. "And that is…?" 

"To allow you your nonsensical passions, but see if I can assist you approach it from a scientific angle rather than dismissing them outright." 

Dib was sure this was too good to be true, but scooted over after a moment so his father could see the magazine and started to info-dump on him. There was still obvious disbelief but Professor Membrane wasn't outright dismissing him, which meant a lot to Dib. Instead, Professor Membrane held his tongue at the more ridiculous aspects, and asked questions prodding at the facts that seemed more based on science, leading into a rather decent discussion. 

And, maybe he could see a little bit of himself in his son. Granted, the boy was the exact replica of him genetically, but he was finally able to see the similar thought processes and cognitive abilities. 

"So Mx Nemo got a new phone?" Dib started innocently as he flipped through the various advertising that filled most of the magazine.

"Yes, I gave them the Memphone 5000. I believe that was a suitable upgrade from their old…phone." If one could call that a phone, he was pretty sure he could have upgraded that when he was still a child himself. 

"You two get along pretty well, don’t you?"

Professor Membrane completely missed the sly look on Dib's face as he reflected on his relationship with you. "I believe so. While their studies have not been focused on the sciences, they are fascinating to talk to.” You actively listened without your eyes glazing over with confusion despite the fact he could tell you didn’t quite grasp all of the concepts. You provided helpful insight, which was a rarity in itself that he found himself excited for. “I still need to review my schedule to see when an appropriate time would be to meet with them for further discussions." 

Dib frowned, not quite believing what he just heard, while Gaz popped her head in. "Wait, is that dad-talk for he has a date? With your teacher?" 

"It is not a date, Gazleen. It's simply a meeting to continue our conversation." Yet despite his words, Membrane could see both of his children start to smile, looking completely impish. 

"Sure it is, dad," Dib tried not to snicker. "Purely professional?" 

Membrane opened his mouth to answer before pausing as the realization hit him. "Well, not exactly..." It was more personal than a professional, but not an intimate thing like his children were implying. "But that doesn't mean-"

"First dates are usually just to get to know each other better," Gaz said, slipping into the chair beside her brother. His children had twin devilish grins on their faces, which didn't bode well for the Professor when paired with the fact that they were working together. He could feel the foreboding deep in his bones, causing him to be deeply unsettled but trying to hide it from the two.  

"I think you're too young to truly understand…" The differences between romantic and platonic affections? The complexity of interpersonal relationships between adults? The fact their father wasn’t an expert on the subject anyways? 

"Maybe, but she's right." Dib interjected after his father trailed off. "You said it yourself, you like them and you find them 'aesthetically pleasing'. And it's super obvious Mx. Nemo likes you too."

Professor Membrane groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried not to think that maybe his progeny was right. Could this be construed as a date? Did you think it was a date? 

Did he want it to be a date? 

It was extremely rare that a person interested him enough to distract him from the self-admitted obsession with science, yet you had. And he could even admit that his fascination with you couldn’t be strictly considered professional or scientific. He doubted he was experienced enough with personal relationships to understand the complex and subtle differences between platonic and romantic feelings, but he knew that he at least wanted to be friends with you. 

But as far as romantic…

Professor Membrane could remember holding your hand. Even with his prosthetics and gloves, he had been able to feel how warm and soft they were. Small compared to his own.  And thanks to those same prosthetics he could detect your pulse quicken when you met his gaze. It was very unscientific, but he had found your eyes beautiful and had done a mental catalog of the dozens of different hues in your irises. He had unconsciously tried to memorize every aspect of your face from the shape of your eyes, the angle of your nose, and your lips…. 

Without prompting, he suddenly found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss you. The mere thought caused his own heart rate to quicken as he found the idea…pleasurable. 

"Oh," he muttered as the realization hit him like a solution to a particularly difficult equation. His feelings were very unscientific and unprofessional. He did like you, in a way that was quite different than platonic. 

In fact, his feelings were rather similar to how he had theorized romantic and sexual attraction to feel like. 

"Oh dear." 

[seacee16]

when petals fall | bangchan

bang chan x original female character

prev chapter // next chapter

!! FULL STORY ON AO3 !!

ch. 8 ~ when dancing on rooftops

>> Chan: I know you didn’t think it would be a good idea for me to show you our building, but it’s too cold outside to be by the river and I believe in fair trade and I already saw your little art room, so get your butt over here, petal.

>> Chan: Please

Standing at the foot of the giant building, Sakura looked away from her phone to stare up at the large letters illuminating the front face of the entertainment company. Each consonant looked roughly two times her height from where she stood, its bright white light causing her to squint.

Taking one last look at the time, Sakura said a small prayer to the sky above before heading down the narrow alleyway next to the building. There were enough lights for her to see where she was heading, but the dark never failed to make her skin crawl. With quick steps, she made her way to the only door in sight, rapping her cold knuckles against the metal before waiting. When there was no response, she knocked again. A different approach came to mind. However, as soon as her hand reached out for the handle, the door to the alleyway shoots open and Sakura is suddenly dragged inside. It’s dark, the red glow of the emergency exit sign above the now shut door behind her being the only light present in the stairwell. And with it, she could just about make out the mischievous grin plastered on Chan’s face.

“Hi,” he whispered into the darkness, a giggle following.

“Hi,” she whispered back.

Without another word, Chan shifted his hand down to hers and began leading her out of the stairwell and towards a set of shiny elevators. He let go of her hand, trying hard to not seem disappointed as he pressed the ‘up’ button. A crisp ding rang out through the hollowed building as the elevator doors slid open and they stepped inside.

The ride up was silent and short, no longer than a minute, and then she was following the boy through empty winding hallways once more until they came to a door. His studio was exactly as she had pictured it. Relatively small in size, it was littered with stray instruments and bits of recording equipment. A desk holding numerous monitors and Chan’s infamous laptop sat at its centre, with a dark leather couch right behind it; a single desk chair in the space between. There were some photos stuck up behind the door they had entered through, and a jacket was tossed over a second desk chair in the corner of the room.

“Be honest, Christopher. Am I just here so that you have someone to blame your procrastination on?”

The male scoffed. “Of course not.” Sakura gave him a look, eyebrows raised as if to ask ‘really?’. “If you must know, I wanted company while I work. The kids work hard all day and it would be selfish of me to ask them to stay behind until god-knows how early.”

“So, you decided to invite me and keep me up until god-knows how early instead? How kind of you,” she sassed, not a trace of annoyance in her tone.

Chan just rolled his eyes. “You were going to be up through the night anyway, petal. Why not put your insomnia to good use.”

“And what use may that be?”

“Motivation.”

<3      <3      <3

The supposed motivation had done nothing to help Chan with his lyric writing process. A frustrated groan was heard from the boy for the third time as he hunched over his instrument, his head dropping tiredly, causing a shriek to tear from the piano keys. Sakura couldn’t help but jump at the noise, settling when she saw Chan reach up to rub at his temples. There were thick creases between his brows, and she could practically feel the air around him vibrating with tension.

She set her sketchpad down on the empty couch cushion besides her, standing with her arms stretched high over her head. “Is there a balcony somewhere on this floor? I need some fresh air. No offense to your tiny studio.” Chan nodded and mumbled out a string of vague directions that would no doubt get her lost. His attention remained fixed on his work, eyes shifting back and forth over the same sequence of beats.

“You know,” she tried again. “You never know what creeper dressed head to toe in dark clothing could be lurking around in these very unfamiliar passages. I might walk through that door and disappear. Never to be seen again. Will you really be able to live with that on your conscience, Christopher? Are you that cold? Do you hate me that much?”

Fingers paused mid motion, hovering above the keys of his laptop. Chan blinked down at his lap before finally turning to face her.

“Did you just call me a creeper?”

It was then that Sakura realized that he was, in fact, dressed head to toe in black clothing. From his branded hoodie to the shoes on his feet. Even the beanie tugged over his curls. It was a poor choice of words from her side, knowing well that the person in her presence was known for his all-black wardrobe.

“No,” she said meekly, her face heating under his stare.

His mouth twitched, one corner pulling up to form a lopsided smile. Chan pushed away from his desk, walking until he himself was at the door. He chuckled at the way she averted her eyes. Instead of teasing her about the comment, he walked through the door and motioned for the girl to follow him through the building once more. It wasn’t long before the pair reached another door. Leading, Chan pushed the heavy metal open and lead her through.

Stepping out into the open, Sakura was immediately hit by the chilly night air and a skyline consumed by artificial starlight. It was different from seeing it near the river. There, she was at ground level, staring up at the city. But now, she was level with the stars.

Chan walked up to the railing at the very edge of the terrace, tugging the beanie off his head and sighing as the air flitted through his locks, cooling him down. As the heat was pulled from his body, he felt the frustration leave with it. After a few deep breaths, he let himself smile. It was so easy for him to get caught up in his work, so much so that his muscles tensed and his skin tightened and the air felt weighted in his lungs. His mind would flood with thoughts of what he could change and what was already good, what he would need to do next and what he may have missed. Every cell in his body buzzed with energy and accumulated stress until there was no room from a single cognitive thought. And in the rush of things, Chan forgot that stepping away from his work could do more good than staying focused for hours on end. With Seoul and the stars winking back at him, and fresh air filling his lungs, he relished in the feeling of a now clear mind.

“Better?” Sakura asked as she placed herself beside him.

Chan nodded. He could see the city’s shine reflecting in her eyes, making them look even brighter than before.

“Take it all in, Christopher,” she told him. “This city is all yours.”

“Mine?” She nodded at his confusion.

“It’s been yours from the moment you first stepped off that plane from Australia. So, take it in. All of it. This city is yours to mold into whatever you want it to be.”

He took a moment to just stare out at the city skyline. It had been around a decade now since he left home to pursue his dreams. He had done so much in that time, and there was still so much he wanted to do. Wanted to see and feel. But looking out, his gaze lost in the sea of stars, Chan couldn’t help but wish the moment would freeze. He wanted to keep every second of this night for himself.

Next to him, Sakura pulled out her phone, fiddling with it for a minute before setting it down nearby. Chan couldn't help but smile at the choice of song, his older friend's voice flowing gently through the small phone speaker.

"Did you play this on purpose?" He asked her playfully, looking up at her standing figure from where he leaned against the railing. "You know I know Yugyeom-hyung, right?" 

She leaned forward slightly, eliminating some of the distance between them. Her hair fell over one shoulder and her head dipped to one side. Her eyes shone in amusement.

"Using your friend's idol status to impress me? I expected better from you, Christopher. Your fans would be disappointed to know that you don't put their top-tier pickup lines to use."

She laughed loudly as he tried to swat at her shoulder, jumping out of reach before he could get her. When her giggles ceased, she held out a hand in front of him. His raised an eyebrow.

With a roll of her eyes, she said, "Dance with me." 

After a moment of hesitation, Chan placed his hand within hers, allowing the girl to pull him away from the edge. Surprised by her strength, he stumbled, catching himself before colliding into her. His neck heated when he noticed their close proximity. If he inhaled deep enough, they would be chest to chest.

While the thought sent his heart racing, Sakura seemed oblivious to the idea. Instead of putting distance between them, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned closer.

When he failed to move his arms from their place at his sides, Sakura questioned, "You're a literal statue right now, Chan. And don't you dare tell me you don't know how to dance because I've seen your group's performances. In confusing looking harnesses, ridiculous animal costumes, even shirtless! So, you have no excuse, mister." 

Chan hadn’t realized how close he had been to combustion, the heat in his face and ears skyrocketing at the mention of his final kingdom performance. She had seen it. Seen him taking off his shirt on live television. 

She giggled. "And just when I thought you couldn't get any redder. You truly are a man of many talents," she teased, enjoying the passive glare her shot her way.

"Sakura," he dragged, reaching a new peak level of embarrassment. Chan hid his face against her shoulder, hoping that it would muffle out the sound of her teasing laughter. 

And it did, but not in the way he had anticipated.

Out of his gaze, Sakura's face turned a shade of red similar to his own, as her breath caught in her throat. While she tried her hardest to ignore it, she couldn't help but feel her attention being drawn to the light puffs of air grazing the skin of her neck as he exhaled. They were slow and deep, warm against her cool flesh. 

Chan lifted his head when he felt her shiver in his arms.

"Are you getting cold?" He asked, unconsciously rubbing his hands up and down her back to keep her warm.

Blushing, Sakura shook her head 'no'. Having him this close, the slight nip in the air was the last thing she was bothered by. If only he knew that the shiver that rippled through her body had been caused by the feeling of his lips brushing against her shoulder; the way his fingers spread over her sides.

Not completely convinced, Chan let his hands slip from her waist and moved to remove the thick black hoodie he had on. "Here," he said, holding out the dark bundle for her to take.

Her eyes flickered between the man and his hoodie several times. His offering his hoodie. The black hoodie.

"You're making a big mistake."

"What do you mean?"

"I hope you know, Christopher, that there is little to no chance of you ever seeing that hoodie again if you lend it to me," she told him truthfully.

Chan just laughed and dropped the hoodie into her hands. He nodded as she warned him a final time, smiling to himself when she finally gave in and pulled the item of clothing over her head.

Once both arms were in their respective sleeves - or, more accurately, drowning within them - she looked up at her friend to find him already staring back at her. Sakura spread out her arms and did a small twirl, the excess material over her hands flopping as she spun. She made a full 360 rotation until she was facing Chan again.

"I'm going to be completely honest with you," Sakura began, letting the hood fall from her head. "This smells really nice."

This time, he didn’t blush. Instead, Chan just shook his head, a light chuckle escaping his naturally pink lips. 

"You're strange."

A single eyebrow lifted on the girl's face. 

"You're one to talk, Mr 'I-Eat-Boiled-Eggs-With-Chocolate'", she shot back, her tongue sticking out to punctuate the end of her sentence.

The grin on Chan's face dropped, now replaced by a look of sheer disbelief. She went there.

"You did not."

"Oh, but I did."

There was no time for Sakura to jump out of his reach. Two arms shot out and, before she knew it, Chan grabbed the hoodie material at her sides and pulled her towards him. A shout of surprise was heard from her, followed by the rumbling laughter of the idol holding her captive in his arms. Soon, Sakura found herself laughing along with him, hands pressed to his chest.

She felt the vibrations of his joy beneath her finger tips. She watched the way his smile got bigger and his eyes got smaller, all in an act of happiness. Sakura felt her heart beat faster at the sight. 

"You're pretty when you smile."

What?

Chan's head snapped downwards to look at her. He only caught a glimpse of her wide eyes before she pulled the too-big hood over her head completely.

She called me pretty, he thought to himself in disbelief. She thinks I'm pretty?

"That wasn't meant to be heard," she could be heard mumbling beneath the thick material.

"You probably shouldn't have said it out loud, then."

Sakura shoved at his chest. No movement. Just another wave of laughter from the male who seemed to only hold her tighter against him now.

Leaning down beside her ear, Chan whispered, "For what it’s worth, petal, you're always pretty to me."

A strangled noise was heard before the girl dug her face into the material covering his chest, a string of mumbled 'stop's falling from her tinted lips. He could feel the grip her fingers had on his sweater, almost begging him to be closer.

With a tranquil smile on his face, Chan pressed a brave kiss to her temple and tightened his arms around her. The pair swayed gently, the late-night breeze offering a melody different to the one coming to an end through phone speakers. All the while, Chan prayed that the girl in his arms couldn't feel the way his heart was drumming against his sternum. Drumming steadily just for her.

"Chan?"

"Yes, petal?"

Eyes rimmed with stars stared up at him, a kind smile etched onto her face. "Thank you for being here."

Chan cocked his head to one side, much like a beloved dog would. Sakura giggled at the resemblance, wondering if he too would close his eyes and grin if she were to scratch him behind the ear. Or run her hands through his hair. Or down his back.

"I invited you, though." His confused tone popping the thought bubble she had been stuck in. 

Sakura shook her head.

"I don’t just mean it as in 'here on the roof with me'. I mean thank you for being here. Alive. At a time where our paths could cross." She told him, feeling bold under his gentle gaze. "In the vast expanse of space, our handful of planets happened to have one capable of homing life. And of the billions of years that our one planet has aged and grown and flourished, there have been the rise and fall of numerous empires. Despite all the possibilities, I was brought into the world at this one perfect point in time, and so were you. And because of that, I am here, and you are in front of me, and I am truly happy for the first time…the first time in months."

The star-speckled sky hung like a blanket of night around them as they stood, still now, on the rooftop. With only the moon and the cosmos present to witness her gratitude, Sakura let her hands slip up to the broad shoulders in front of her. One hand - as benign as the 1am winds dancing around them - swept the stray curls away from Chan's eyes. It continued up through his hair, down the back of his head, until finally resting at the nape of his neck. Her fingers remained embedded in the smallest curls there, softly smoothing over them with her thumb.

All the while, the man's eyes never left those of the woman before him. There was something there, in the golden honey pools that surrounded the bits of darkness at the centre of each eye. It made him feel content and warm. Whole.

With words as soft as her heart, she said, "Thank you, for making it to this moment."

"Thank you for making it here with me, petal," he whispered in return, hoping that she could see the adoration he held for her and her alone.

A drowsy flutter of long eyelashes. A lopsided smile. A breath that no one knew was being held until it was released in a low puff.

“I want to kiss you.”

The swaying stopped.

Sakura’s gaze swept over his face, noticing the way his eyes darted down to her lips between breaths. She hadn’t realized it before, but now she couldn’t look away. Left in a daze from his sudden words, she almost missed the way the tip of his pink tongue slid across his bottom lip. The way his teeth snagged onto his lip for the briefest second as his eyes fell low once more.

In that moment, she felt it. A shift in the balance. A crack in the innocent friendship she had tried so hard to convince herself they had. A fracture appeared in the ice that day in his bedroom, when she had begged him to let her in. And no matter how much she wanted to deny it, the fracture had spread into a spiderweb of cracks. Deep down, Sakura knew than she was one gentle breeze away from tumbling off the edge she had perched herself upon. But suddenly, staring up into his dark eyes, the abyss waiting below didn’t seem as frightening.

She shoved his shoulder gently, a nervous laugh leaving her. He didn’t budge. His hands remained firm on her waist, fingers spreading towards the small of her back.

“Don’t get distracted, Christopher. You still have a song to finish.”

“What about when I do?” He tried again, bolder this time.

Weak in his embrace, Sakura looked at him through peripherals. He was still staring down at her, a serious expression on his face.

“We’ll see.” The corner of Chan’s mouth pulled up into an attractive half-grin. He nodded, looking down at her tempting lips one last time before swaying them once more.

Sakura let both arms slip loosely around his neck before resting her cheek against his collarbone. The melodic patter of his steady heartbeat lulled her racing thoughts. She closed her eyes and felt the way Chan's own arms moved to wrap around her waist as they started to sway once more.

"I won't let you go, I'll be right here when you fall."

Chan started to sing along as the song drew to a close. No matter how many times she heard it, Sakura couldn't help but marvel at his voice - wanting nothing more than to be wholly wrapped up in the warmth that his mellifluous voice brought with every lyric he sang. And, deep down, she knew that there was truth behind the words he sang.

When you fall.

She knew he'd be there. Because she was with him now, in his arms. He was there. And she was falling, with no end in sight.

Welcome to the abyss.

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Imagine returning home to reconcile with Riri and Shuri

There was nothing Riri hated more than having to track a fellow student down for her money. All of her clients were repeated users of her services these days. Which every single one of them knew the routine, so she shouldn't being going through this right now.

Especially with a guy named Atticus Nelson.

Everything about him matched his name. He was a textbook nerd. If someone looked up the definition of nerd there would be a picture of him. He was tall and scrawny with a mop of brown hair on his head. A pair of wide circular black rimmed glasses on his face, and he had little to no fashion sense.

The first time he came too her asking for her assistance with a robotic project. He was tripping over his own words, and it only got worse when she rose an eyebrow at him in irritation.

Nope there was no logical reason in the world to explain why she was currently hunting down Atticus for her money. The nerdy boy was two days late with his payment, and she let it slide longer than usual. Because she genuinely thought it was possible he forgot to Venmo her. Atticus was one of the few kids who really didn't need her to do his work, but he came to her anyway to take some of the load off his own back. The kid was crazy enough to do a double-major and take all advanced classes. His workload was four times the size of hers, and any other student at MIT.

The amount of times he was caught sleeping overnight in the library had to set a new record. At one point the librarian actually considered just giving him his own key. So yeah Riri gave him the benefit of the doubt until she couldn't.

"Yo Atticus wait up" she called out to him trying to keep the underlying tone of anger out of her voice. The last thing she needed was him getting spooked and trying to run.

Atticus came to a stop glancing over his shoulder to see who had called his name, and when his eyes landed on Riri. His entire face lit up with excitement, and something else she couldn't place. Why was he so happy all of a sudden.

"Riri my favorite little helper. What's up?" He asked her a gleaming smile adoring his face.

Riri grimaced at the nickname feeling mocked. "Don't call me that alright we ain't cool like that especially. When you owe me money."

He cocked his head to the side playing dumb. "For what?"

"Atticus don't be stupid where's my dam-" Riri cut herself off taking a deep breath. She didn't like the sudden change in his demeanor. It had been going on like that for a few days now ever since the rest of the student body seemed to catch on to. The fact that you were gone rather or not it was just a break, or for good remained to be seen. But she really hoped some of these kids thought they could get away with stiffing her, or shorting her with money just because you weren't around anymore.

"You turned the essay in three days ago, and I know for a fact you got an A plus. So you owe me fifteen hundred. Cough it up now" she demanded.

"You don't think you can give me like a friendly discount or something. I was thinking five hundred."

Riri gave him a fake laugh before her expression went stoic. "The discount for friends is actually eight-fifty, but we aren't friends."

Atticus dug a hand into his pocket and pulled his phone out, and Riri released a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted to have to do was force him to cough the money up. Unlike you she was definitely afraid of getting caught breaking the school's strict code against violence.

Riri's eyes drifted down to her own iPhone waiting for the ding, and to see the notification of payment pop up. Seconds ticked by but it never came up, and when she glanced up at Atticus. He was still standing there regarding her with uncertainty.

"You really are hopeless without y/n here to fight your battles huh" He commented with a tiny smirk.

It took all her self-control not to explode, and sock him in his pointy nose. She could hear her mother's voice in her head telling her to keep her cool. It was the only thing saving Atticus at the moment. If you were there he wouldn't have even dreamed of saying something like that to her. Maybe that was the problem Riri got to comfortable with you fighting her battles when she didn't need you to. Now you weren't here to do it anymore, and now guys like Atticus thought they could get over on her.

"Atticus I promise I'm about to become your worst nightmare in the next five seconds. If you don't send the money" Riri threatened with a look that could kill.

His confidence faltered as he flinched taking a step back, and his smirk vanished. Good he was intimidated maybe now he would find his common sense.

Nope.

Atticus fixed his posture trying to poke his chest out but failed. "You won't touch me your scholarship would be revoked the second you did" he shot back.

"Well then I guess its a good thing I'm not on scholarship". You said had sneaking up right behind him without either of them noticing.

Atticus let out a yelp swinging around eyes widening in fear at your presence. Riri was as equally shocked by you showing up, but hid it better than he did. Her face stayed neutral but her heart was going a hundred on the inside.

"Atticus please tell me you're not giving my girl any trouble with her money?" You asked cracking your knuckles just for show. "Buddy I'm pretty sure I'm in the doghouse with her, and if blacking your eye will increase my odds of an early release. I will gladly do it."

It worked Atticus started fumbling with his phone in a rush to send the money. His fidgeting was so bad the iPhone slipped out his hand and hit the ground. If it wasn't for the sturdy case the screen would've shattered.

"I'm running out of patience, and my fist is hungry" You sang.

"No no no stop I'm sending it alright" he begged.

"It's eighteen hundred now" Riri threw in staring down at him.

He gawked at her.

"Since you wanna try and play somebody."

Atticus picked his cellphone up and sent the money before scampering off. You watched him run away wondering how things would've played out if you hadn't shown up. You knew Riri didn't need you defending her, but it was less risky for you.

Speaking of Riri when you turned back to finally address her. She was already walking right past you without so much as a hi or thank you. "Aye Ri slow down and just hear me out" You pleaded with her having no problem matching her speedy pace.

"The way you heard me out before dumping me." She fired back not stopping or looking at you.

"Riri please I wasn't in my right mind okay, and can you really blame me?"

She paused but didn't look back, yet you still took the opportunity to constrict an arm around her waist, turning her around and pulling her to you.

"I know you didn't outright lie to me, but an omission of the truth is still a lie. If I ever found out something about your dad that you didn't already know. I wouldn't hesitate to tell you no matter who asked me not to." You told her talking so fast it was a wonder she could actually keep up with your words.

But she did the anger in her eyes was replaced with guilt as you reminded her of. The part she played in the events that took place, and tore the two of you apart.

"I'm sorry y/n it was just a lot, and I didn't know how you were going to react. I figured coming from Shuri it would be easier for you to deal with." Riri admitted not meeting your eyes.

"Finding out someone who you love and lost had a whole other side of them you didn't know about sucks. There was no way to ease me into that news or soften the blow. I was going to lose it no matter how you or Shuri handled it." You replied taking a deep breath before continuing with an apologetic tone. "But I'm sorry you got caught up in my warpath when I'm pretty sure you did your best to protect me. I'm sorry I hurt Riri and I don't care what I have to do to make it up to you I will do it."

Her eyes lit up with disbelief as she finally looked in yours. Your mother was right about your track record with apologizing. It was something you hardly ever did, even when you knew you owed it to someone. It was a psychological thing sometimes all people wanted from others who wronged was an admission of guilt. You knew that and in the past held back apologizing to just drive them crazy.

"Wow did y/n Stevens just apologize" Riri said turning her head in different directions. Pretending to make sure you had been addressing her, and not someone else.

"Ri stop it I was talking to you" You laughed squeezing her side.

She jerked away from your prodding away holding back laughter. "Alright its just I didn't think you even had those words in your vocabulary. I don't think I've ever heard you apologize before."

"Well someone reminded me that apologizing is important if you want to build and maintain a healthy relationship with someone. And that its the mature thing to do" You said.

"And who might this person be because I need to meet them like asap. If they can convince your stubborn ass to do something."

"My mother and if you mean it I'll take you back home with me next time I go" You answered without hesitation. A grin spread out across your face when her body tensed in your arms.

Your mother wasn't exactly a hot topic so it was no wonder you mentioning her threw Riri off her game. In the past whenever she brought your mom up. You either shut the conservation down almost instantly, gave her vague answers to her questions, or redirected her curiosity to something else. Riri just came to the conclusion that your mother was a touchy subject, and figured you had a bad or at least a complicated relationship with your mom. But that couldn't have been further from the truth, you were hesitant to talk about her. Because of the mountain of guilt that hit you for not visiting her for so long. It was easier to ignore. If you didn't talk or think about her for too long.

"Your mom as in the woman who gave birth to you. The woman you acted like didn't even exist before you left. Wait is that where you disappeared to you? Riri asked putting everything together.

You gave her a nod. "Yeah the truth was easier to hear, and to accept coming from her I guess. My father might've kept something like that from me, but he would've told my mom."

"Wow so you not on bad terms with her or anything?"

"Nope I just missed home more than I let on, and didn't want to admit it. My mom would've saw right through me so I avoided her too" You admitted sheepishly.

Riri gave you the same scolding your mother had when you told her the truth making you throw your head back with a groan.

"Ri don't start I don't wan-"

"Naw ma you really need to work on this whole tough girl act. You don't got to walk around keep everything bottled up inside-"

"Yeah yeah I know I'm emotionally damaged-"

"See that's the problem you not-"

"Riri" You exclaimed to put the bickering to an end. She raised an eyebrow at you not liking the way you shut her down. "Sorry but you seem to be forgetting there is one more person I owe an apology. Is the Princess still around?"

Riri didn't answer you right away answering your question partially. If Shuri had gone back to Wakanda already she would've say so with no hesitation. But you wanted to know where she was, or at least how to get into contact with her. And Riri wasn't sure if it was a good idea unbeknownst to you. She didn't even think you were going to come back, and told Shuri to just go home. But the Princess figured you would cool down and return for answers, so she stuck around.

"Ri come on I promise to not lose it this time please" You begged.

"And you got manners all of a sudden oh yeah I'm going to have to meet this woman" she joked.

"Oh please you're the same way around your mom" You threw back.

"I'll reach out to Shuri to let her know you're back, and we'll just go from there" she suggested ignoring the dig.

It wasn't the answer you wanted but you understood why she wanted to do it that way. "Sounds good so does this mean we're good?" You asked leaning down to press your forehead to hers.

Riri moved her head back shaking her head with a scoff. "You really thought you were going to get off that easy huh."

One Day Later

It didn't take long for Shuri to get back to Riri after the young girl left a voicemail telling her of your return, and you wanting to reconcile with her.

Shuri called her only five minutes after missing the initial call to apologize for not picking up. The message had been a lifesaver considering Okoye had shown up from Wakanda insisting. It was time for Shuri to just give it up, and come home. Even though M'Baku took over the throne to save Shuri from that pressure. She was still the Black Panther, and her country was still on bad terms with the other nations. So the elders were nervous about her being away from so long especially on undisclosed business.

Shuri decided from day one when she had guessed your heritage to keep your existence a secret from everyone except. Okoye who surprisingly agreed with to do the same.

Riri suggested the two of you meet up somewhere in public to put both of you at ease. Shuri was fine but Okoye did insist on tagging along after hearing about the first meeting between the two of you. The Princess knew the guard's presence would worry you a bit, and just hoped you didn't run away.

The chosen location for the meetup was none other than Starbucks. It was public and it made Okoye happy as this was the first time the woman was finally able to visit the popular coffee chain, and truly enjoy it. She was at the counter putting in an order when you walked in, and you were able to locate Shuri with no problem.

Even in civilian clothes the Princess stood out amongst all the other young adults occupying the lobby. She gave off a powerful aura that demanded attention, and put you on edge. You were too caught up in your raging emotions and theories to notice last time. But this time you felt it wondering if it was the effect of her being the Black Panther. You still managed to stand tall as you made your way over to the table, and took a seat across from her.

"I gonna be honest I thought you would tell me go the hell. After the way I treated you last time, and all those things I said" You told her.

Shuri lifted the shades revealing her brown eyes, and let the glasses rest upon her head. "Oh believe me the thought crossed my mind, but then I put myself in your shoes, and realized your reaction was normal. I was foolish to believe you would just accept my words at face value."

"But it wasn't just face value you had proof." Your fingers started playing with the gold chain around your neck. "I gave the ring to my mom."

Her eyes lit up with curiosity as she sat up a bit more with twenty questions on the tip of her tongue. After finding you truly were the daughter of Erik Killmonger. Shuri did another deep dive on his past looking for your mother, but came up empty-handed. The only girl she could connect to your father was the one who helped him pull off the museum heist with Klaue. And she had been murdered by Killmonger, and while Shuri didn't think much of her cousin.

She still gave him the benefit of the doubt, and refused to believe he had killed the mother of his child. Shuri came to conclusion that he did everything in his power to make sure both of you had been hidden making it impossible to connect either of you to him.

"We can talk about her later for now there's something I want to say. You said relaxing the muscles in your face to kill some of the tension.

Shuri gave you a nod folding her hands together, and placing them on top of the table. She was trying to play it cool, but you could see her muscles tightening.

"I'm sorry Shuri for what I said about you and your brother. The accusations I made you turning your back on me were out of line" You started. Shuri could tell you wanted to say more and motioned for you to continue.

You took a deep breath choosing your next words carefully. "I didn't know T'Challa but all I ever heard about was good things. Its a known fact he changed Wakanda in so many ways, and made it his mission to help others. It couldn't have been easy to hear me suggest otherwise so I'm sorry for that too."

"You're right it wasn't easy and I had to remind myself that I didn't react any better. When your father showed up in Wakanda, and did the same thing. I refused to believe a single thing he said about my father until my brother opened my eyes up to the truth." Shuri said in return thinking back to that faithful day.

The Rivers of Wakanda

"Why are we doing this again? Shuri asked T'Challa standing beside him on the boat.

"Because it was his dying wish to be put the rest this way, and honoring his last request is the least we can do Shuri." T'Challa said staring ahead at the calm waters before them.

"I just don't understand why you feel like we owe him anything after what he did" Shuri grumbled under her breath. She crossed her arms over her chest pouting like a five-year old.

"Killmonger actions were the result of our own father's mistakes Shuri, so we do indeed owe him" He snapped at her fixing her with a hard gaze.

His little sister flinched letting her arms drop to her side where her hands clenched forming fists. "How can we be so sure of what he said was the truth. He could've been lying brother."

"He was not Shuri" T'Challa demanded in a booming voice that had her taking a step back. He had turned his body around so he was facing her fully now practically towering over her. His outburst cause fear to flare up inside of her, and he hated it.

T'Challa took a few deep breaths before speaking again gently clasping Shuri on the shoulder. "Baba told me the truth in the astral plane dear sister. He left the boy behind to cover his own tracks, and hide our uncle's disloyalty to Wakanda."

"No father wouldn't do such a thing" Shuri cried shoving him away from her. At least she tried to T'Challa didn't budge a single inch instead he wrapped his arms around Shuri to pull her to his chest. Tears fell from her eyes matching that of a rushing waterfall as she sobbed into his chest. "Our father was a good man sister, but alas he was not perfect." He whispered the wind carrying his words into the sky and beyond.

"My father was buried in the water" You said in a whimper-like voice with glistening eyes. As she recounted the memory to you.

Shuri cursed herself for giving up what had to be a painful revelation for you. She was trying to avoid talking about Erik's death too much, but she got too comfortable and let that slip. "Its what he wanted" she murmured.

You held back the tears and cries that wanted nothing more than to break free. "My mother told me you were telling the truth, guess he didn't have it in him to lie to her too. Shuri I'm sorry for everything I said alright and if it's possible I want to put all that behind us."

Shuri didn't even need to think about it. She nodded "if you want I can finish telling you what happened with your father-"

You held up a hand cutting her off. "I don't want to hear the rest of the story." Your head dropped as you stared at the floor hiding the pain in your eyes. "My father was a loving and caring man. He protected me. He raised me with a firm but gentle hand, and he was a good man. I want to continue to remember him that way. I'm not ready to see him any other way at least not right now."

In all honesty, you weren't sure if you would ever be ready for the truth, but all you knew for sure was that today wasn't the day. When you looked back up making eye contact with Shuri. A moment of understanding passed between both of you. If someone had given her an option all those years ago to not know about T'Chaka's miatakes. She would've made the same choice, and she found herself feeling grateful you didn't want the truth.

"So we're good?" You asked with a hint of nervousness finally acknowledging the bald woman sitting at the table right behind Shuri eyes focused solely on you.

"Yeah little cousin we're good" Shuri replied with a tentative smile. Things had gotten off to a rough start, but progress was finally being made. "Maybe we can talk about you coming to visit Wakanda next?"

Her words stunned you for only a second, but the chuckle that left your mouth had Shuri frowning. In disappointment and confusion her offer was far from a joke.

"There's no need for that Shuri" You told her pausing contemplating your next words. In the end you couldn't find a nice way to say what you were thinking so you were blunt. "Its not really a good idea either when you really think about it."

Shuri leaned forward placing a hand on top of yours, and squeezing it. You jumped at the physical contact but made no move to pull away. "No one knows the truth about you, and we can keep it that way" she promised.

"That doesn't change the fact my family doesn't seem to have a good track record with Wakanda. My grandfather was murdered for betraying the country, and while I don't know what happened to my dad. The end result was still his death, and you can't tell part of the reason you sought me was to make sure I wasn't following him my father's footsteps."

She looked away in shame or guilt maybe both at your last statement indicating. The thought did cross her mind especially when she realized your father had attended the same college. "Y/N-

"It's okay, Shuri. I get it you wanted to keep history from repeating itself. You gave me the truth, which is more than what my father got from anyone, and I'm grateful for that. But that doesn't make Wakanda my home, or Wakandans, my people. My heritage is the only connection I have to that place, and that's where it ends."

Shuri had assumed once you came to your senses you would want to at least visit Wakanda to see your father's burial sight. So your utter dismissal of her offer had her reeling to find the proper response.

You turned your hand around to fold it around hers. "You don't owe me anything else Shuri, and I'm sorry if you expected me to have this feeling of longing to see Wakanda. America is my home and I know it's not as beautiful but I grew up here. My life is here."

"I know but Wakanda is your birthright-

"Nope that right there is what got my dad killed. I have no right to the throne nor do I want it. Seriously Shuri you don't have to worry about me anymore" You reassured her.

"If this is it then what happens now? Shuri asked releasing your hand to settle back into her chair.

You shrugged your shoulders. "I got a degree to earn, and you got a country to protect."

"I mean but we're still family" Shuri pointed out seeming a bit overwhelmed all of a sudden.

"Yeah" You prompted.

"I don't know about you, but I don't exactly have a lot of that left. At least not blood relation, " Shuri corrected, thinking of the woman sitting behind her, ready to jump at any sign of danger. And Nakia her unofficial sister-in-law even though the relationship took a turn for the worse. When she didn't reach out after T'Challa's death. Even M'Baku, Aneka, and Ayo came to her mind the way they stood by her when she was ready to go to war. A nation more powerful and with more soldiers than what Wakanda possessed.

"I would like to have a relationship with you y/n maybe even learn about who your father was. Before he was consumed by vengeance, and I can tell you about my family in return if you wish. Brother always believed things could've been different with Erik if we had found out about it earlier. Maybe we can have that" Shuri said.

"I'd like that" You answered with a smile.

It wasn't the ending either of you expected, but it was the start of a new beginning.

Tag List: @lizlil @darkmemesworld @rhayanm @aliives @angel-bi666 @agustdeeyaa @liliana-byers @sp5derzworld @marice23top @filmsbyhyuna @shuriswhore @vevethirst @londyn-loves-u @iwillbeabitch @klackyb @ziayamikaelson @taleiak @awolfcsworld @shinsousliya @mbakuetshurisprincess @youralphawolf72 @mxyx-rx444 @simpin4pixels @deliciousfestsalad @quintessencewrites @alistair-mooncrest

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Plastic Hearts, Chapter Seven: Night Crawling

pairing: dieter bravo x actress!oc (Violet Apollo)

rating: E (18+ only, only one minor sexy moment but for safety i’m marking this as explicit, big time angst, talks of drug use/alcohol consumption, talks of sobriety/addiction, fighting, a sort of fluffy ending?)

wc: 4.9k

series masterlist | dieter masterlist

Violet was back in LA, soaking in a rose-scented bath, when her phone began to buzz on the stand beside the bathtub. She lifted her hand from the water and dried it on the hand-towel beside her phone before lifting it up and smiling at the caller ID. Swiping the call button to accept the FaceTime, she beamed bright as Dieter’s face lit up her screen.

“I was wondering when you’d call,” she said, taking in Dieter’s annoyed scowl. “Everything alright?”

“Just miss you,” he sighed, sitting down on the sofa of his dressing room. “They’ve been dressing me up like a fucking doll all day long.”

“Are the pictures coming out good, at least?” she asked, shifting her legs in the water.

“I don’t know. We just wrapped, so they’re good enough for Variety, I guess.” Dieter’s eyes seemed to just now take in the fact that Violet was sitting naked in a bubble bath. “Lower your camera a little, I’m trying to see something.”y

Violet laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “You can see all you want when you come home tomorrow.”

“God, I can’t fucking wait,” he groaned. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it when I have to go away for filming.”

“Maybe I’ll come with you,” she suggested. “After all, I may not have a very busy schedule for a while given the fact that my movie currently has a 42% rating.”

“Not because of you,” he noted.

“Doesn’t matter,” she sighed. “Anyways, back to what I was saying. If I don’t have anything going on, would you mind if I came to visit you?”

“Well, visiting is a given,” he said, smiling at her through the screen, and even though they were on opposite sides of the country, it almost felt like he was right there in the bathtub with her. “My Scorsese project starts filming in January. I think we’re supposed to film in Germany for like a month before shooting the rest in England. So…it’s gonna be brutal.”

“That your way of saying no?”

“No,” he sassed. “It’s my way of giving you an out from having to deal with me when I’m miserable.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve already had to deal with you when you’re miserable, D.” Violet smirked at the eye roll he gave her. “Basically, I’m just saying that if you want me there, I’m there.”

Dieter looked longingly at her as she lit up a joint with one hand and took a hit.

“You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that?” Dieter said, the sound of vulnerable sincerity leaving his lips making his heart race and Violet’s smile stretch into a grin.

“You’re my favorite person, too,” she replied bashfully.

“I’ve been going insane here without you,” he continued, shaking his head at her. “Everyone sucks. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, D,” she softened her smile at him. “What time are you getting here?”

“I think I land at like two,” he said. “Can I come straight to your place?”

“Hell yeah, you can,” she replied. “I cleared my schedule for the next few days, so you’ve got me all to yourself.”

“God, I can’t wait.”

“Time for set.” Violet could hear Andrea calling for Dieter in the background, bringing a frown to her face.

“Can’t even have you on the phone for five minutes without someone stealing you away,” she said, watching as his cheek dimpled from his smile.

“I’m pretty sure no one’s ever wanted more than five minutes with me before,” he said, earning an eye roll. “I’ll call you when I get back to the hotel?”

“I might be asleep, but call anyways,” she said, blowing him a kiss. “See you tomorrow, Bravo.”

“See you, Apollo.”

The sound of the call disconnecting made Violet sigh and sink further into her bath, wishing more than anything that time would find a way to hurry just this once so that she wouldn’t have to spend another night without him.

“How long until we get to the hotel?” Dieter asked Andrea as she sat with him in the backseat of his chauffeured SUV.

“Maps says an hour with traffic,” she replied, her tone flat as she typed away on her phone.

“I’m gonna try to call Vi,” he said, pulling out his phone.

“We have to talk about your schedule,” she said, glancing over at him. “Can the call wait?”

Dieter gave her a furrowed brow and a glare as he turned to her.

“What’s there to talk about that we haven’t already figured out?”

“Uh, the fact that you’re booked back to back for the next two years,” she said. “I’m trying to accommodate your new situation—“

“Wait—why’d you say it like that?” he asked, shifting in his seat to face her.

“Say what?”

“Situation,” he replied dryly. Andrea sighed and let out a chuckle as she shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she said. “You two aren’t like—“

“Aren’t like what?”

“You’re not serious,” she said. “The two of you. It’s like a fun thing, but—“

“But what?” he snapped. “She’s too young for me? Too pretty? What is it, Andrea?”

“She’s too…this is harsh, but she’s too fucked up,” she finally managed, watching as he boss stared at her in shock. “I mean, I like her, D, don’t get me wrong, but…this thing…it’s not gonna last.”

“I’m fucked up too,” he said. “Why couldn’t that be the reason?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed and rubbed her temples. “Forget I said anything.”

“No, you think she’s too fucked up for me?” he asked, disbelief and anger forcing his voice higher than it normally was.

“I just think she’s young and has a lot of shit going on, and—“

“You don’t know anything,” he said, turning to look out of the window. “She’s not…we’re going to be fine. I don’t know why you’re putting this shit in my head.”

“I’m just trying to remind you that this was a contractual agreement that has an end date—“

“Yeah, but that was before.”

“Before her movie flopped,” she said. “Think about it, D. Dating you was a career move. Do you really think that’s all changed this fast?”

“You think she’s using me?” he snapped.

“I just think it’s convenient that right after she realized this movie wasn’t going to do what she thought it would for her career that she found a way to keep you around longer.”

“Violet wouldn’t do that,” he said, more to himself than anything. “She isn’t like that.”

“Sure,” Andrea shrugged. “I’m just saying…watch out for your career, too.”

“You were the one scheming to get us together in London—“

“So that there was peace,” she said. “And so that this contract—“

“Fuck the contract,” he said, shooting her a piercing glare. “Doesn’t matter how it started. It’s more than a contract now. Respect that or don’t, but don’t bring her up again—“

“Or what, D?”

“Or…you’re fired.” Andrea gave him a wide eyed look, like she didn’t even recognize him.

“You’re going to fire me? After all we’ve been through?”

“If you don’t keep your opinions to yourself,” he said, turning back to the window. “Violet’s in my life. Get over it.”

“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Dieter shook his head, his eyes rolling behind his sunglasses while his knee began to bounce from the thoughts racing through his mind. Though he did value both the business and personal relationship he’s shared with Andrea, he’d never found someone who made him feel as understood and accepted as Violet, and that alone was enough reason to ignore her warning.

Violet was at the airport an hour before Dieter’s plane was scheduled to land just out of sheer impatience, hoping that if she willed it hard enough, a miracle would happen and he’d already be there waiting for her to bring him home, but unfortunately, wishing wasn’t enough to stop his plane from being delayed three hours forcing her to wander around, attempting to stay as under the radar as possible while she waited for him.

“Excuse me?” Violet stiffened at the voice that sounded from behind her as she sat in front of a window facing the runway. Turning around slowly, she was greeted with a mother and a little girl around twelve or thirteen who looked awestruck. “Are you Violet Apollo?”

“I am,” Violet said, fixing a friendly smile on her face.

“My daughter is such a huge fan of yours,” the mother said, urging her shaking daughter forward. “Tell her, baby.”

“I—“ the little girl squeaked, her eyes full of tears. “I r-really like your new movie.”

“Thank you,” Violet cooed, frowning at her as she stood up. “You’re such a sweetheart. Would you like a hug or a picture or anything? You’re making me get teary eyed, too.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, wiping her eyes with her sweatshirt sleeves before allowing Violet to give her a tight squeeze.

“Thank you so much for talking to her,” her mother said, reaching into her back pocket to pull out her phone. “Could she get a picture?”

“Sure,” Violet nodded.

After snapping the picture, the mother began speaking again, but this time Violet’s attention was pulled elsewhere to the sight of her boyfriend in all of his gruff, moody glory walking towards her from his gate with his suitcase in one hand rolling behind him, his other hand holding onto the backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Oh my god—“ Violet watched as the mother turned to Dieter, awestruck in her own right as she waved at him like a lovestruck teenager. She met him halfway, holding her phone out to try and take a selfie. “Dieter, could I—“

“I just landed,” he sighed, the glasses he was wearing only slightly managing to hide the bags beneath his eyes. “I’d like to just be able to say hello to my girlfriend before having a phone shoved in my face. Is that alright with you?”

Violet watched as the woman’s mood quickly dampened, her face falling at the sound of her idol snapping at her, forcing Violet to feel guilty by association.

After the mother and daughter left, one feeling on top of the world and one feeling crushed, Violet gave Dieter a tight hug, feeling him melt into her like she was some sort of antidote to whatever was turning his mood so foul.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he mumbled into her hair as he squeezed her tight. “Last night was…it was a lot. I want to tell you about it when we’re alone.”

“That why you were so mean to that poor lady?” she asked, leaning back and holding his face between her hands to get a good look at him in all his scruffy glory.

“Half of the reason,” he replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss on her lips. “I also just can’t fucking stand when people shove their phones in my face.”

“I know,” she cooed, wiping her lip gloss off his bottom lip. “Let’s get you home, then.”

“So,” Violet turned to Dieter sitting in the passenger seat as they started on their way back home. “What’s up?”

Dieter sighed and shook his head. “Andrea said some shit.”

“About you?”

“No,” he said, turning to her. “About…you.���

“Me?” she asked, her voice raising an octave. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” he assured, reaching to rest his hand on her thigh. “She just seems to think our relationship isn’t an actual relationship or some shit.”

“Okay, well, it is,” Violet chuckled. “Is that all she said?”

Dieter winced as he tried to muster the courage to tell her the worst part of everything—that Andrea believed Violet wasn’t only just “too fucked up”, but in this whole thing for the wrong reasons.

“Yeah, just…just some other shit about your character that I’m not gonna—“

“What did she say?” Violet urged, glancing between him and the road.

“She just said that you’re—and these aren’t my words or my feelings at all, okay? I don’t want you thinking that I feel this way, because it couldn’t be more wrong.”

“Dieter, spit it out.”

“She said you’re too fucked up for a real relationship,” he said, forcing the words out. Violet went silent, going inward immediately and closing herself off. “I need you to know that I told her to shut the fuck up and keep her bullshit opinions to herself. Alright? I don’t believe that. If anything, I’m the one who’s too fucked up.”

After a few more beats of silence and no change of her blank expression, Dieter sighed, rubbing his palm over her jean-clothed thigh.

“Baby?”

“Yeah,” she answered, her voice breaking.

“You’re not fucked up. I don’t know why she said that—“

“Because,” Violet let out something between a laugh and a sob as the first tear fell from her eyes only to be caught by Dieter’s thumb. “Because I am. I’m fucked up.”

“You’re not,” he insisted, sitting up and shifting his body to face hers. “Fuck. I hate that she said that, and I hate that you had to hear it. You’re…fuck, Vi. You’re not fucked up. You’re…”

“I’m what, D?” she cried, wiping her tears away with the sleeve of her hoodie. “I’m a fucking messed up, people pleasing, selfish—“

“You are the most kind, selfless, empathetic, gorgeous human being I’ve ever fucking met. That’s what you are,” he interjected. “I’ve met enough truly fucked up people to know the difference between someone who’s a piece of shit and someone who’s just battling shit. No one gets to fucking fault you for being human. Not as long as I’m around to say something about it.”

Violet frowned, not from the sting of Andrea’s words, but from the sincerity lacing each and every one of his words, so sincere that she felt herself begin to believe it, too.

This is why she loved him. This is why she craved his presence. When Dieter was around, she felt like a person deserving of all the things she spent years believing she never deserved.

“I…I fucking love you, D,” she said, her voice just a broken whisper as she focused on the road. “Thank you for being here.”

“Baby,” he leaned over the center console between them and pressed his lips against her shoulder. “Say the word and she’s gone.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m not…she’s been in your life for years. She’s good at what she does. I’m not gonna take it personally.”

“Okay,” he surrendered. “But the next time she opens her mouth—“

“Such a guard dog,” she teased, offering him a tear-swollen smile. “I just need to grow thicker skin. I’m just…shocked. I thought she liked me.”

“I did, too,” he said. “Her loss.”

“Oh, to see myself through your eyes, Bravo.”

“Then maybe you’d take it easy on yourself for once and realize you’re fucking killing it.” He smiled as her laughter filled the car. “I love you, Apollo.”

“Love you, Bravo.”

“God, your house is so much more…housier than mine,” Dieter swooned as he opened Violet’s fully stocked fridge. “All I have in my fridge is red bull and kit-kats.”

Violet laughed as she chopped garlic for the dinner she was making.

“Feel free to come raid my fridge whenever you want,” she said, turning to give him a smile.

“Careful,” he warned with a grin as he grabbed a bottle of sparkling water and joined her at the island. “I might just make myself comfortable here, and after that, you won’t be able to get rid of me. Like a cockroach.”

“What a stunning cockroach you are, Bravo,” she joked, wiping off her knife before carrying the cutting board over to the stove. “Maybe I want you to get comfortable and never leave. Ever consider that?”

“I’ve considered it. Just doesn’t make any sense,” he said, following her to the stove like a dog. Violet melted against him as he stood tall behind her, his hands resting on her hips as he buried his face in her neck. “Why don’t you just order takeout? Free up some valuable time we could be spending doing something more exciting.”

“Because,” she chuckled. “I’ve never cooked for you and I want to.”

Dieter hummed and pressed his lips against her pulse as he tugged her back against the tent forming in his lounge pants, her resolve crumbling with each passing second.

“What can I do to help you, then?” he asked, slipping his hand across her stomach before lowering it beneath the thin material of her pajama pants. Violet’s breath hitched as his palm cupped her heat, teasing her with his warmth.

“You can stop distracting me and pour me a glass of wine,” she said, gathering her wits enough to prevent the garlic and onion she had caramelizing on the stove from burning.

“Red or white?” he asked, pressing his fingers against her clit to rub slow, teasing circles against it.

“R-red,” she managed through her drunken arousal. Dieter pressed a kiss against her pulse before pulling away, his eyes locking with hers as he lifted his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean. “You’re not playing fairly.”

“I’m just having an appetizer,” he said, smirking as he walked over to the wine fridge and tugged out a bottle of her favorite red. “So, what exactly are you making?”

“Pasta,” she replied, moving on to start whipping up the rue for her white sauce. “I used to make it all the time when I was broke.”

“Oh, how sweet of you to make me a struggle meal,” he teased.

“It doesn’t taste like a struggle meal, asshole,” she quipped, earning a sincere laugh. “You’re gonna love it.”

Dieter walked her glass of wine over, placing a kiss on her cheek as he set the glass down on the counter. “M’sorry for being an ass. Just never had anyone do this for me who wasn’t paid to.”

“Your parents never cooked for you?” she asked, a sarcastic lilt to her voice as she looked at him, but when she saw the vulnerability hidden deeply in his eyes, her smile was wiped away. “D…you’ve never had someone cook for you just to cook for you?”

“Uh, no,” he replied, seemingly nervous from the confession as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re the first person to do a lot of things for me.”

Violet’s heart both broke and warmed at his words. While she harbored a deep resentment towards his parents and ex-partners for holding back the love she knew he deserved, she also couldn’t help but feel a certain pride in being the first to show him what it was like to be cared for.

“Well, thank you for trusting me enough to do this,” she said, looking away from him to give him some reprieve.

“You’re thanking me for letting you cook for me?” he chuckled. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“No,” she shook her head and gave him a smile. “Next time you can thank me, but this time, it’s me who gets to do the thanking.”

Dieter only chuckled, a bashful smile growing on his face as he looked down at his bottle of water to hide his blush.

“Maybe I can cook for you one day,” he said. “Though I don’t know how edible it’ll be.”

“It’s the thought that counts, right?”

With their stomachs stuffed and their lungs filled with smoke, Violet and Dieter found themselves out on the town after receiving a text from Lucy inviting them out to an industry party.

Though Dieter wasn’t a fan of going out, especially in LA, Violet seemed eager to get out of the house and let loose for one night, and who was he to deny her anything? He was sure he’d walk through the gates of hell with a smile on his face if it meant she’d be holding his hand.

“Vi!” a man shouted for Violet as she sat on Dieter’s lap, the two of them tucked away in a VIP booth.

“Oh my god,” Violet grinned, standing up to go hug the tall, dark, and handsome stranger. Dieter bit the inside of his cheek as he took in the low placement of the man’s hands resting just above the swell of her ass. “It’s been so long!”

“Well you never come out anymore,” he teased, giving her a wink. “Maybe if your old man let you out of the house—“

“Shush,” she chuckled. “Let me introduce you.”

Holding his hand, she dragged the man over to the booth with a wide smile.

“D, this is Jordan,” she said, letting go of his Jordan’s hand so that he could shake Dieter’s. “You two get acquainted while I go to the bathroom.”

“Hey,” Dieter greeted his competition with a flat tone and unamused look. “How do you and V know each other?”

“Oh, we used to date a few years back, but we’ve been good friends since,” he said, taking a seat at the other end of the curved booth.

Dieter’s jaw ticked, the itch in his palms to soothe his anxiety with a drink or something stronger returning.

“Don’t worry about me, Violet’s made it clear she’s not interested,” he said, though the smirk on his face told Dieter it wasn’t for a lack of trying. “Although, man to man, she’s looking great since she lost all that weight.”

“The fuck did you just say?” Dieter spat, his bored look turning to one of irritation in the matter of a second.

“What? You’re telling me you liked her when she was thick?” he asked from over the rim of his glass.

“Listen, man. I don’t know you. Violet seems to like you, but don’t think that makes us cool,” Dieter said, trying to reel in his jealousy and irritation at the drunken scene in front of him. “And don’t talk about her.”

“Chill, man,” Jordan said, chuckling at Dieter’s protectiveness. “She’s a grown woman. She can pick her own friends.”

“I never said she couldn’t,” he argued. “She can pick all the shitty friends she wants.”

“You’re a fuckin’ asshole,” Jordan scoffed, standing up from the booth. “Don’t know what the fuck she sees in you.”

Dieter gritted his teeth as he watched Jordan disappear into the club, leaving him alone in the booth to sip on his water.

When Violet returned, Dieter noticed a change in her demeanor, her hands fidgeting as she reached for her tequila soda. With a little closer inspection, he felt his stomach sink at the powdery white substance lingering on her nostril.

“What the fuck?” he sighed, reaching to wipe the coke away. “When did you start doing this?”

Violet tensed up, shooting him a glare as she pulled her compact mirror out of her bag and fixed herself.

“You gonna answer me?”

“Dieter, god, I’m just trying to have fun,” she snapped, sliding off of his lap. “It’s not like I have a problem—“

“Yet,” he interrupted. “When did this start?”

“When we weren’t talking, now can you drop it?” she groaned, her high clearly crashing from Dieter’s serious tone.

“Do you know how dangerous this shit is?” he asked, leaning in to speak quieter as Lucy and her boyfriend joined them at the table.

“You’re one to talk,” she snapped. “What? You can have fun and it’s okay, but I can’t?”

“I wasn’t having fun, I was fucking addicted,” he countered, surprised to feel the amount of irritation towards her that he was. “But fuck it. Do what you want, be friends with who you want—“

“That’s what this is about? You’re jealous?”

Dieter scoffed and stood up, forcing her out of the booth so that he could walk outside to get a breath of fresh air. “Dieter!”

She’d followed him, the click of her heels on the sidewalk as he walked down Sunset with a joint in his mouth acting as an alarm to his already incredibly anxious heart.

“Vi, I don’t want to fight,” he sighed, breathing out the smoke. “I just…do you know how hard it was to quit that shit? How many people I lost? How it affected my career? Do you honestly think it’ll be any different for you?”

“I don’t know!” she snapped. “I’m just trying to let loose and act like a fucking normal twenty-five year old!”

“Maybe that’s not a good thing,” he mumbled to himself.

“You don’t get it,” she rolled her eyes. “You’ve had the entire fucking world handed to you.”

Dieter looked her dead in the eyes, his lips parted as he tried to separate his feelings for drunken Violet from sober.

“Violet,” he said softly, tilting his head as though he was trying to recognize her. “You’re drunk and saying shit you won’t remember, but I will.”

“Just…go home,” she sighed, wrapping her arms over her chest to warm herself up.

“Vi—“

“Go,” she repeated, gesturing at the road. “If you’re going to judge me—“

“I’m not judging, I’m trying to look out for you—“

“I’m not a fucking child to look out for!” she snapped, yelling and drawing eyes on them, the flickers of hidden cameras following shortly. “Just admit that you think I’m fucked up like Andrea does.”

“What?” he demanded, almost laughing at her drunken train of thought. “You know what, right now you are being really fucked up. And you’re right, you’re not a child. You can do what you want. But if you think I’m going to stay and watch you burn yourself into the fucking ground, you’re wrong.”

“Then go,” she said, her face turning stone cold.

Dieter shook his head as he looked into her eyes, seeing the same brokenness in them that he saw in the beginning of their relationship, but this time there was something else in them—something close to resentment.

“Alright,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “You want me to go?”

“If you’re going to be like this.”

Shaking his head, he looked towards the road and swore under his breath.

“Fine,” he said, ashing his joint out on the sidewalk. “Have fun with your fucking hangover.”

“I will,” she snarked.

It was six in the morning when Dieter woke up, the sound of his phone ringing on his nightstand acting as an alarm.

“Hello?” he croaked, still half asleep.

“D…I’m outside.” Violet’s voice sounded worse than his, forcing him wide awake. “Can you come let me in?”

“Yeah, just…give me a second,” he said, hanging up the phone so that he could slide his robe on.

When he opened the door, he was met with a very sloppy looking Violet, still beautiful even with eyeliner and mascara smudged around her eyes, the strap of her tight minidress hanging off her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, already crying. Dieter shook his head at her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight until her sobbing ceased. “I said so much dumb shit—“

“Shh,” he hushed her as he guided her into his home, locking the door behind him. “It’s okay.”

“No,” she cried, turning to face him in his foyer. “I said shit I didn’t mean. I…you were right. I shouldn’t be touching any of that shit, but I just—“ She took in a deep breath and shook her head. “I’m so lost, D. I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like I don’t deserve anything good, especially you. I mean, what kind of girlfriend brings their sober partner to a club? All because I wanted to get out of my head. Fucking stupid.”

“Stop,” he said, reaching to wipe her tears away. “I’m not going to lie and tell you I wasn’t fucking pissed, but…I get it. I get everything going on in your head right now because it went through mine for twenty fucking years. And I wish I would’ve had someone step in and tell me I was being a fucking idiot. That’s all I was trying to do, just…just trying to make sure you don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

“I know,” she nodded, stepping closer to him, her hands settling on the collar of his robe. “I should’ve listened to you. Last night was…the worst. Jordan tried to cop a feel and then I started screaming at him and got us all kicked out. Then him and Lucy started going at it, and her boyfriend stepped in and tried to fight him, getting them both arrested—“

“Jesus.”

“I know,” she frowned, looking up into his eyes. “It was childish, and stupid, and reckless, and…once you were gone, all I could think about was how fucking much I wished I’d just gone home with you.”

“Well, you’re here now,” he said, offering her a small smile as he cupped her cheek with his hand. “And by the looks of it, you need a shower and some comfier clothes.”

“Desperately.”

“Well, let’s go,” he said, planting a soft kiss on her cheeks before nudging his head in the direction of his bedroom. “We’ve got some making up to do.”

[marie-swriting]

I Wanted It To Mean Something - Kira Yukimura

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Summary : You're friend with Kira but you have a huge crush on her. When she asks you to spend some time with her to work on a school project and go to the cinema after, you accept. Unfortunately, you don't know how to deal with your feelings so you always feel like you're embarrassing yourself.

Warnings : reader is attracted to more than one gender but no label is mentionned, a little bit of angst, fluff ending, pining, quick mention of a horror movie (not named), English is not my first language so there might be some mistakes you can tell me, if you see them. Tell me if I missed any warnings.

Word Count : 2.1k

French version

Prompt : "Just to clarify : me holding your hand doesn't, like, mean anything, by the way. Not in that way, at least. Unless you want it to mean something. I don't mind. That's cool" from this prompts list made by @promptplanetblr

Song Inspiration : More Than A Friend by GIRLI

             You can’t help but admire Kira when she arrives at school. You look at her, reading something on her phone, completely oblivious of your presence. You keep your eyes on her, watching the way she’s dressed today and her beauty in general when Lydia snaps her fingers in your face.

“You know, one day you should try asking her out.”

“I can’t do that.” You say, defeastist.

“Why not ? It’s been three months since you broke up with Stiles, and you said one the reasons were that your feelings for Kira were too strong. Plus, she and Scott broke up like two months ago. Nothing is holding you back.” She retorts, not seeing the problem.

“Yeah, nothing except the fact she’s not attracted to girls. And even if she was, which is not the case, she’s not attracted to me. It’s obvious that nothing is ever gonna happen.”

“You will never know if you never shoot your shot. Besides, you don’t have to ask her on a date right away. You can just say you two should hang out sometime, try and see if she can be interested in you and then, you’ll know what to do.”

“You make it sound so easy. But it’s still hopeless. I've also already admitted my feelings to her before.”

“What ? When ? Why didn’t you tell me ?” Your friend questions you, offended she didn’t know about it.

“It was like a month after my breakup. It was at a party. I got drunk and I just told her I like her. She just said ‘you’re the best !’, like in a friendly way.”

“Maybe she didn’t know how to react ?” Lydia suggests, trying to be optimistic. You’re about to answer when you see Kira waving at you and coming your way.

“Oh my God, she’s coming, you shut up !”

“Hi ! Y/N, I wanted to talk to you, if you have a second.” Kira says when she’s in front of you.

“Yeah, she does. I was leaving anyway. See you !” Lydia smiles before walking away. Behind Kira, you see her showing her thumbs up to encourage you, which you try to ignore.

“So what do you want to talk about ?” You ask your crush, trying to sound normal.

“About the English project that we have to do. You can come to my place this Saturday so we can work on it during the afternoon and maybe we can go to the movies during the night. Or we can do something else, if you want. We can totally stay at mine and have a girls night.” She rambles, nervous.

“Let’s do the former. Homework then movies.” You tell her, a smile on your face.

“Cool ! Come by 2 pm ?”

“Sure.”

              Once you’re alone, your smile gets even bigger, considering you will be spending alone time with her. It’s clearly not a date, she just wants to hang out with you, her friend, but you take it. Whenever you have the chance to spend time with her, you accept. Even if that means being awkward around her from time to time. Your feelings are clearly not helping you.

              When Saturday comes around, you’re excited to spend your time with Kira. You arrive on time at her place and you both don’t waste any second before starting to work on The Picture Of Dorian Gray, your English project. After you agree on who is working on which part, you do your research on your own, then you talk together about what is important for your essay.

              You’ve been working on the book for a few hours so you both decide to stop for today. You still have more than a week to finish it so you have time. You start talking a little bit, waiting for the time you’ll have to leave her place to go to the movies.

“By the way, thank you for agreeing to work on this with me.” She starts saying, out of the blue. “I didn’t really want to do it with Scott. I mean, we’re still on good terms, but it would have been awkward, you know. Besides, I’m not really close with the rest of the class.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. And we also make a pretty good team, I think. We don’t have a lot of work left !”

“It’s true. We should do that more often.” Kira smiles genuinely.

              When you find yourself falling deep into her dark eyes, you try to look away, knowing you’re about to embarrass yourself. You already had to stop yourself from looking at her while working you can’t risk it now, especially because she can catch you more easily.

              At the movies, you both decided to watch the last horror movie that came out a week ago. You’re usually a little bit scared of this kind of movie but considering all the supernatural things you’ve witnessed the past years, you’re pretty sure you’ll be okay.

              You were wrong.

              During the whole movie, you try not to show how terrified you are. You’re almost screaming at every jump scare. You even stopped eating your popcorn because you know you were about to drop it the moment you'll get a little too scared. You want to act tough, so you try to make it through the movie, so you keep watching it, trying to anticipate the scary parts. Unfortunately, one of the jump scares was worse than the others and you just jumped on your seat before grabbing Kira’s hand and hiding your face in her neck. You wait a few seconds before looking at the screen again. You hear your friend trying to contain her laugh. You turn to her and see her biting her lips to not be heard. You find her even cuter like that, but you don’t show it. You look at her, trying to act confident.

“I just wanted to scare you by overreacting.”

“Well, it didn’t work.” Kira chuckles a little.

“Clearly.” You try to say casually before flinching when you hear a scream.

“I can’t believe you’re scared of this movie. We deal with supernatural things on a daily basis.” She exclaims, whispering the last part lower.

“Yeah, but in real life I don’t have the time to be scared that we’re already facing the scary stuff.”

“You know, we could have picked another movie, right ?”

“I really wanted to see it. I know I can do it. But can I still hold your hand ?”

“Sure, no problem.” She assures you, squeezing your hand before looking back at the screen.

You do the same and try to focus on the movie, too, but the feeling of her hand in yours completely distracts you. You start panicking and before you can hold yourself, you turn to her again and open your mouth.

“Just to clarify : me holding your hand doesn’t, like, mean anything, by the way. Not in that way, at least. Unless you want it to mean something. I don’t mind. That’s cool.”

             You don’t wait for her answer and focus on the movie, cringing at yourself. In your head, you’re calling yourself every bad word you know, because this time, you clearly made a fool out of yourself in front of her. She wasn’t saying anything, she wasn’t making a big deal out of holding your hand, but you had to say something about it. Though, you keep her hand in yours, because you think that if you stop, she might realise something. Besides, you’re too embarrassed to make any further movement.

             When the movie ends, you two leave the movies, still holding hands. You talk about the movie and surprisingly, Kira liked it a lot. Her hand leaves yours when you get in the car, and she starts driving back to her place.

             Kira and you keep talking for a few hours before she gets tired so she turns off the light and goes to sleep while you’re laying next to her, your eyes wide open. At first, Kira’s back is facing you, so you keep looking at the ceiling before trying to fall asleep too.

             When you hear her changing position, meaning you can now see her face, you turn a little and start admiring her, again. The curtains in her bedroom aren't thick, you can make out her face despite the dark. You see her, looking peaceful while her chest is moving evenly. At that moment, you really wish you could tell her how you feel, tell her that you two holding meant something to you. When you think back to this moment, you mentally slap yourself. You try to make up scenarios where you wouldn’t have said something like that or at least, you would find something to say to her the next day to make sure things aren’t awkward between you two.

             The embarrassment starts being too much to bear for you so you get out of the bed as quietly as you can and walk to the kitchen. You get yourself a glass of water, hoping you’d feel a little bit better. It didn’t really work. You put the glass in the dishwasher before walking back into Kira’s room. As soon as you enter, Kira turns on the light, startling you.

“My God !” you whisper-scream, a hand on your chest. “Kira, never do that again after a horror movie ! You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry.”

“I thought you were sleeping.” You say, closing the door behind you.

“Not completely. I heard you getting up, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. If we forget the heart attack you just gave me.” You giggle quietly before laying next to her again. You wait a few seconds, but she still keeps the light on. “You don’t want to sleep ?”

“I can’t anymore.”

“Sorry, I really tried not to wake you up.”

“It’s not you, don’t worry. I just couldn’t properly fall asleep.” She assures with a little smile.

             You both stay silent and look into each other’s eyes. Being this close to her with her face a few inches from yours, makes you want to kiss her even more. You’d just like to taste her lips, at least once. You’re sure they’re soft. But no matter how much you want to do it, you refrain from doing it. You know it’d ruin your friendship and it's the last thing you want. She means a lot to you. You want her in your life, no matter if it’s as a friend or something else.

“You know, for earlier, what I said about us holding hands, I really hope I didn’t make anything awkward.” You start, avoiding her eyes. “I mean, obviously it can’t mean anything. Unlike me, you’re not attracted to more than one gender, so I don’t even know why I told you that. Like, I should have just shut up. But yeah, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t wish it. I care about you a lot. I don’t want to lose you.” You ramble, before taking a deep breath and say the sentence that hurts you the most “You’re my best friend.”

“I wanted it to mean something.” Kira murmurs and you’re not sure if you heard correctly.

“What ?”

“Us, holding hands, I wanted it to mean something. I… Since you told me you liked me at this party, I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. I know you meant it in a friendly way, but you made me realise that I like you, too, just more than you actually do.” She confesses and you can’t believe your ears.

“Are… Are you trying to say you have feelings for me ?”

“Yes, I do.” She affirms and you stay silent for a second, making her panic. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you ! Let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything.” Kira exclaims, hiding her face behind her hands.

“Kira, I like you, too.” You admit to her, taking her hands in yours, making her look at you. “More than a friend is supposed to.”

“You do ?” She asks you and you nod, making her smile softly.

You two don’t add anything and keep looking at each other, afraid that what just happened was all a dream. You gather all the courage you have before asking the question you always wanted to tell her.

“Can I kiss you ?”

“Yes, totally.”

             Her answer makes you smile, and you don’t wait any more second before pressing your lips on hers. Like you expected, her lips are soft. Kissing her feels like the most normal thing to do. You cup her face while she puts her hands on yours. You kiss softly until you’re both out of breath. When you stop, a huge smile is on both of your faces. You caress her cheeks, content that you finally had the opportunity to feel her lips on yours.

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