#its probably going to be delayed because of school

[kings-highway]

Impulsively wrote this middle school friendship AU intro for Ushiten. It would follow a week of them working on a school project together and probably be mostly canon compliant with the change of them meeting in middle school. Theyd play volleyball eventually and maybe Id extend it long enough to see the high school days its unclear. It would include both artist Ushijima and mega anime nerd Tendou and also tw for suicidal thoughts and feelings but no attempts just two deeply, deeply depressed 13 year olds finally meeting someone who gets them. Also Ushijima would have a stammer and an amount of autism that might be lethal before he had any decent self regulation. It would be the return of Adopted Tendou and probably a few other things. Anyway why am I telling you this? Because I have a habit of impulse writing the first 1000 words of something and then forgetting about it so instead I've given it to you. So like. Maybe all this will be nothing idk.

---

It was 9:08 on a Thursday morning when Tendou Satori decided to kill himself.

And then at 11:13 that very same Thursday morning, he’s forced to delay his decision due to a school assigned group project.

Now, normally Tendou would not be so altruistic as to care about whether or not he pulled his weight in a group project or left people hanging. No, the reason why this is an imposition at all is because of how he ends up assigned to a group project. He’s not paired up with the girl he sits beside as she rolls her eyes, they don’t draw straws or count numbers. No, they’re told that everyone can pick a partner to work with for this particular assignment, and then they have to make and colour project board on - you guessed it - a type of animal to then present to the class on.

Tendou, at first, is actually thrilled with this. He simply won’t partner up, and then he’ll be dead, and it will be okay. But when the class is wrapping up and everyone is getting ready for lunch, the teacher is suddenly whistling for him and waving him over like a scheming villain.

He’s not even sure he’s the one she wants at first. He frowns, glancing around and watching the other kids file out of the class, and then looking back to her. She waves him over again.

Her name is Kobayashi, and she’s… fine. Middle school biology is generally just fine.

He stands in front of her, wondering if he’s done something wrong.

“Hey, Satori,” she says, like she’s about to ask for all his gold. “I have a… huge favour to ask you. You don’t have a partner in mind for the animal project, do you?”

He shakes his head.

“Great, good, okay. So… do you think you could do me the favour of asking Wakatoshi to be your partner?”

Tendou frowns, glancing behind him to where the other kid usually sat, but he had already left the class.

“Uh… why?”

She seems to hesitate on this answer for a second, before eventually saying: “Well, it’s just that… you know he doesn’t really talk much, and has a really hard time making friends. And usually I help out by introducing him to someone, but I think he’s begun to notice that nobody ever approaches him on their own, and…”

Tendou stares at her for a moment, then glances behind him and scans over the occupied seats in the class to identify and even number of students. So an even amount of pairs.

We’re probably leftovers, he decides. There’s probably something wrong with this kid the way there’s something wrong with him, and she wanted them stuck together to avoid contaminating the other kids.

“Okay,” he says, because what does it matter to him?

“Oh, you’re the best, thank you,” Kobayashi says, clasping her hands together for a moment before adding: “Okay, I won’t take any more of your time. Go enjoy your lunch.”

Tendou nods slightly, and figures he should probably go find this kid to set up their collaboration. And it’s about then, (11:13) that he realizes if he asks to partner with someone, and then kills himself, that would be super inconsiderate and lame. So he decides he’ll wait until after they present.

But he heads down to the school cafeteria and starts scanning the available seats. It’s interesting that there’s apparently another social loser like him in his very class, and he’d never noticed. He’s fairly certain he can recognize the kid by face, but it still takes him a moment of intensely scanning before he notices him. He’s not exactly sitting alone, which is what surprises him. It looks like the kid is surrounded by friends.

Except for that, as Tendou approaches, he realizes that while he’s sandwiched in between two very loud groups of friends, he’s not actually engaging in either circle, and is instead sitting with his head down, peeling an orange so carefully he’s kept the peel all in one piece.

Tendou has to fight through crowds, then, to get to the other side and worm into the seat across from him and between those two groups. He doesn’t look up.

Tendou clears his throat.

He still doesn’t look up.

So he reached forward, knocking his knuckles against the table to get his attention. This makes him jump, and he looks up in alarm, as if shocked someone had snuck up on him despite being locked in on that orange like it owed him a life debt.

Tendou immediately regrets the rude way of getting his attention, realizing he probably seemed like an asshole, and withdrew his hand quickly to sit on it.

“Uh, hey,” he says. “Ushijima, right?”

He gets a single nod back. Well, Kobayashi had said he was quiet. Tendou wasn’t sure he’d ever heard him speak, actually.

“Well, I’m Tendou - we’re in class together-”

Ushijima is nodding, indicating he does recognize him.

“-uh, and we’ve got that stupid animal project coming up, and I don’t have a partner yet, so I was wondering if you wanted to, like, I dunno, do that together or whatever.”

Ushijima looks at him for long enough that Tendou is beginning to get concerned that he didn’t actually speak any Japanese, and then eventually the blank look turns to a frown.

What, did I offend him? Why is he looking at me like that?

“I mean, unless you already have a partner,” Tendou starts. Ushijima continues to stare at him. “Do… uh… sorry… What's happening? You can say no, dude, that’s fine, I just-”

After a second, Ushijima glances around, as if psyching himself up, before lean towards Tendou and very carefully saying:

“Okay.”

Tendou leans towards him at the same time. “Okay as in… partners?”

Ushijima nods, and then looks back down to his orange. Tendou is fairly certain that that’s the end of the conversation and this project is going to be the most boring partnership on the planet when Ushijima splits the orange in half, and offers half over to him.

“What? Why?” Tendou says, not quite able to stop his tone from coming out distrustfully.

Ushijima doesn’t seem to notice, and instead answers the question:

“You do not have lunch with you.”

It’s not a question of ‘are you hungry’ or ‘did you eat’ or ‘would you like half of this orange I’m holding,’ but rather Ushijima has now decided that since Tendou does not have any, he was going to put food in front of him.

Tendou feels a very heavy, hard beat in his heart, and reaches forward to take the orange.

“Oh. Thanks.”

[moons-harmony]

-BDA GACHA REACTION-

Okay, i've made Jadusable, Benjamin and Happy Mask Salesman AKA The Father. I also gave some of my previous designs small, minor changes. I'm unsure if i will start working on the Gacha Reaction immediately because I'm kind of stumped on what to make them react to. I COULD do a "React to my FYP" kind of reaction but it would just be nonsense to them, and i feel like their reactions would purely just be "What the hell is this crap"... But i'll think of something soon enough. If anyone wants any specific videos to be put in the Gacha Reaction then feel free to send them!

And now, the designs:

HMS was so hard to make HOLYYY pls no judgement >:(

(Some designs might have small reworks before the reaction, but this is mainly how it's going to look. The elegy statue wont be included ofc, but its good to have a design for it.)

[toast-on-dandelioms]

__Just Another Neglected Story__

This is the part 2 of this

Years passed and you were now 16, almost mute but with a few friends from school, the only place where no one knew you were a Wayne since you refused to take his surname.

You wanted your mother's surname, you refused to let go of that small part that you still had of her. You refused to let go of that and be replaced by a surname from a person that hated you.

You still had some dignity.

You were happy, you finally had your small place where no one could ruin it and you didn't even care that your supposed family didn't even know who you were.

But everything changed when you went to that damn interview to a scientist lab in a big corporation, you needed money for yourself and knowledge to better your inventions and the corporation you went to was better than any Wayne industry.

You were accepted obviously and after a few months you were on a good position as a part timer and helped with experiments with rats and spiders.

What those experiments were? You didn't know and honestly from what you saw when you were allowed to spectate an experiment in process, the animals almost never died and if they did then they would be honored with a small photo on a wall, to thank them for their help.

You were taking a few subjects to their enclosures and while letting a spider inside its little cage, the little legs of it running down your hand and making you shiver a bit but you did a mistake that all your superiors told uou to never make.

You accidentally moved while trying not to drop another animal that was on the table since it kept moving closer to the edge, scaring the spider and making you get bit by it in the process, the sting of the bite making you almost fall down but not before putting the spider in its cage and closing it.

Then you allowed yourself to fall down and hold the injured hand on the chest as you held back the tears by biting your lips and repeating a mantra you had so that you wouldn't seem weak.

You stayed on the ground for a few minutes, waiting for the sting on your hand to stop hurting so much.

You did notice the spider was a venomous one but that only paralyzed the prey making you scared, not wanting to be found paralyzed and get fired after making a stupid mistake.

You kept on reading the file and thanked whatever god was out there that the venom wasn't strong enough to paralyze a human but just making them a bit dizzy, explaining why you felt so dizzy like you drank five bottles of beer.

You finally got up after the bite stopped stinging and pulsing, making you wobble a bit and check the reports about the spider but it didn't said anything about any experiments made on the animal but you were a bit suspicious about it.

You went to the small lab you shared with a few other interns, starting a few tests on yourself to make sure you wouldn't die or have something horrible happen to your body because of some weird mutation.

You checked every test you ran on yourself, making sure to not have missed anything but it didn't showed any changes so you decided to wait until the new day to see if it was a delayed response from the bite.

You decided to go back to the Manor since it's been days and you couldn't sleep at another friend house again, not wanting to bother them with your 'family' problems.

You managed to get there safely enough by taking the bus, entering silently by the front door and just passing by the kitchen while ignoring the loud noises from the dining hall, knowing that they're probably celebrating something and didn't even try to invite you.

You finally arrive to your room, smiling softly at the plate on your desk filled with food and silently thanking Alfred in your mind since you just realised you didn't eat much that day.

You quickly sit down and eat everything with a big smile, making sure to clean the plate and leaving it on a table next to your door outside of your room to thank Alfred, not wanting to do the trip to the kitchen and risk being seen and seeing all of them look at you with confusion as to why you were there.

Like they didn't even remember that you lived there and were surprised that you were there. You hated whenever they looked at you like that.

You finally plop down in bed, face first and fall asleep in a few seconds, not even bothering to change or take a shower since you were exhausted.

You woke up the next day and as you got up you noticed that something changed in your body.

Not something noticeable like a new set of eyes or a new pair of arms like Stitch from Lilo and Stitch, but you felt more flexible.

Like, you were already pretty good at moving your body thanks to the dance lessons you used to take but now you could move your body in positions you never thought were possible.

Your eyesight was also incredibly better and more enhanced, like you could see from pretty far away without having to squint to see it.

You immediately thought of the spider and its bite so you checked the wound but there was nothing, just two small moles (the small black spots) where the bite was supposed to be.

You quickly went to school, deciding to do a few more tests when you would get to the lab to make sure you didn't have anything dangerous in your body.

The day seemed more slow than usual, making you skip school just after an hour in there and quickly go to the corporation you worked at, using the excuse that school was closed because of a sudden villain attack.

No one even questioned it, they just let you in and went on with their day, not even bothering to check since you were in Gotham so that was normal.

You quickly walked to your lab, immediately starting a few more tests on yourself and sighing in defeat when all the results were the same.

Your blood was mixed with the spider on and you were now half spider. You sighed and worked before clocking in early, slowly going to an abandoned park to check what you now had to just learn to live with it.

You ran a few tests on the field, wanting to see what you now had with the DNA of the spider in your body.

You already checked the sight and flexible factor in a small notebook, adding super strenght, weirdly precise reflexes that also helped you when you were in danger.

You just now needed to see if you could walk on walls like spiders, really hoping you could since you wanted to see how that felt like.

You walked up to a deserted building and took off your shoes and socks before setting one foot on the wall, noticing that you couldn't really take it off.

You tried with the other foot and now you were standing sideways on the wall, making you laugh in glee since it was so freaking cool.

You quickly ran around the building walls before getting to the roof and sitting down on the edge since you were tired.

You thought to yourself to just live with these newfound powers, if you can call them that but then noticed many people walking around and being scared.

You noticed how, even though Batman and everyone else kept the streets clean from super villains, small time thieves and other bad people still ran around even after being caught and brought to jail.

You knew you weren't strong enough before but you now had a small advantage over them and decided to help people, make the streets a bit cleaner.

You would never go and fight big villains but small ones were easy so you quickly went to the manor to start your training, wanting to help others.

You first started by creating the costume, making sure to hide your face pretty well since you refused to let anyone know who you were, even though you were a nobody that not even the media knew about.

You then started to create your own vigilante, giving yourself the name of 'Spider', like the hero Spider-Man from the comics you used to read.

Hey, you got bit by a spider and decided to follow that theme, no judgement on that.

You created the web fuel and used a grappling hook that was lying around to create a web shooter, making sure to make it hidden on your wrists.

Then you started to train in the abandoned park that no one ever walked by, using the trees around it and the buildings as a way to learn how to swing around.

You also learned how to fight by spying your "family", recording how they fought and their weak and strong points to also learn from it.

In 2 months you officially became 'Spider', the new spider vigilante that helped the people from small thieves so no one had to be scared to walk on the streets.

You also used a taser if you couldn't fight against someone stronger and you didn't want to kill them with your super strenght, and the taser was the best move.

You didn't even notice but you started to become famous amongst the city, especially after helping a bus from falling off a brige and stopping a well known rapist after the police did nothing.

You just kept going, happy to help and thinking no one even noticed, not noticing that your "family" also started to notice the new vigilante and was starting to ask questions about who it was behind the mask.

But their curiosity may never be satisfied.

Part 3 here!

Tag List

@victoria1676 @cattioo @gaozorous-rex-blog @mylittlediarys-stuff @simpingfor-wakasa @mamapucket

[fandomwritingbit]

William Afton x fem reader

Babysitter

A/N: This is a second stab at the babysitter trope because it’s just delightfully filthy, it’s not at all connected to the go I had before (which you can find - here). Also this is my first time writing somnophilia so I hope it’s good. 

Synop: Reader is a regular babysitter for William, one night she stays the night as he is working a late shift. He comes home annoyed and the sight of her asleep is just too tempting.

Warnings: smut, non/dub con, somnophilia, age gap, inappropriate relationship.

You pull the duvet cover up over one of the children you’re babysitting, her voice catching your attention with its whiny tone. “I can’t believe you’re making us go to bed this early.” 

You smile at her and shake your head. “Lizzie, it’s half nine on a school night. You know the rules.” She pouts looking at you with pleading eyes. You know that she just wants to stay up and spend some time with you, it’s not surprising, with two brothers it’s no wonder she wants some time with another girl. She looks up to you and as sweet as it is, you know better than to delay her bed time. 

“Pleease, y/n.” She tries again and you chuckle as you turn on her nightlight then her big light off, coming back over to prop her pillows up. 

“Nope.” You say through a grin, “Now lie down if you want tucking in.” She does, though her dissatisfied expression doesn’t shift. And so, bringing the duvet up under her chin you tuck it tight at her sides, just how she likes, knowing that despite the whinging she’ll be asleep in 10 minutes tops. You stand up and head for her door, stopping just before you leave, “Night night, Lizzie. Remember the quicker you get to sleep the sooner we can make breakfast in the morning.” The little lass smiles and you notice the sleepiness of it even in the low light of the room. 

~

Elizabeth is asleep before you can gather your stuff and lock up downstairs, just as you thought. So you go about checking on Evan asleep in his room as of an hour or so ago, happy to find him still settled. They’re good kids, never any trouble really. You’ve babysat for the Afton kids many times, as a local young lass with a liking for extra pocket money it was a handy job. You would pick the two youngest up from school, take them home and cook dinner, help with homework, all the good stuff. Their dad worked long shifts at his restaurant, so usually you’d stay and put the children to bed, getting yourself home once he’d come back. But tonight was different, Mr Afton had told you he won’t be back til the middle of the night and offered you to spend the night in the spare room; which you took him up on. 

The room is probably the smallest one in the house, not that you mind, it is a double bed with an end table and a chest of drawers. You put your bag on top of it, taking out your wash bag and heading to the bathroom, where you then ready yourself for bed. As it’s only one night you didn’t bring any pjs, only your clothes for the morning, so you strip down to your panties, take off your bra and keep the shirt you’ve been wearing today on, thinking that that should be good enough to sleep in. Yes, it’s revealing but if you need to tend to the kids you can always put your trousers back on. 

You don’t notice your discarded bra, abandoned on the bathroom floor.

Once in bed you set your alarm for seven in the morning, knowing you’ll have to help Mr Afton with the school run tomorrow. Again you don’t mind and you’re paid well for your time. And you like Mr Afton. God, how can you not? Such a handsome bloke, lean and sharp. Smart as anything too, you’ve listened to him talk on the phone, all business, shrewd and confident. Yeah, you like him alright. 

~

William gets home in the early hours, some time after 3am and the happy silence of his home isn’t enough to quell his silent anger. An incident at the restaurant has left him with paperwork up to his nose and a tonne of wasted stock, and with rent and utility on the way he was stressed to all hell. Even after staying nearly all night, there was still some much to do when he went back in tomorrow afternoon, and lord knows Henry won’t be helping much. 

He moves through his house as quiet as he can, careful not to wake anyone up even with his terrible mood. Poking his head in on his children, he smiles in satisfaction at your work. You’re such a good little lass, looking after them so well, you’re more than worth what he pays you. Honestly, the kids love you, even Michael isn’t annoyed by your presence and he couldn’t ask for a prettier thing to be milling around his house. He chuckles at that thought, you’re a damned tease even if you don’t realise it. What with all your tight jeans and shirts that pull away when you bend down, it’s hard for him not to look at you, but so far that’s all he’s done. That and a bit of harmless flirting. 

He pops into the bathroom to wash his face, hoping that will help clear away the stress of the day, except he doesn’t make it as far as the sink. Stopping still at the sight of your bra left on the floor. It’s a surprise to say the least, you’ve never struck him as the black lacy type, least of all when looking after his kids. And especially so given you’re not a careless individual. He grins as he picks it up, rubbing his thumb over the peak of the cup where your nipple would harden at such an action. The image goes straight to his cock, he’d wager you are much too inexperienced to wear such an article.

It would be a shame to just leave it there all night, so he keeps it in his clasp as he leaves the room, a naughty idea crossing his mind. 

But as he passes the spare room that he notices you’ve left the door cracked open. He’s not delusional, he knows it’ll be to hear the kids if they need you, but a very persuasive part of him wonders if you could have left it open for him. After leaving your bra in the bathroom it doesn’t seem outlandish, rather like you’ve left him a trail to follow and he wouldn’t dream of denying that invitation. 

The light from the hall cuts through the room as he cracks it open, his eyes quickly finding your sleeping frame laid on the bed and an almost sinister smirk creeps across his face. Such a lovely girl just laid there, having no clue that he was taking in the sight of you. Whether you did do this on purpose or not is irrelevant to him, there is only so much teasing a man can take.

He stands there in the doorway for a moment listening to the tickly feeling in his chest of doing something he knows he shouldn’t, his silhouette casting a large shadow into the room. It’s a familiar feeling but one that just never dulls. 

Still careful to be silent, William slowly enters the room, reaching behind himself to close the door, the room remaining dimly lit due to a lamppost outside the window. His hands move automatically to the buttons of his shirt, still unsure of what he was going to do even as he took it off, dropping it down to the floor. His belt was harder to take off without the suspect clinking noise but he manages it and his trousers follow suit. Standing over you there with his cock rock hard behind his boxers, he feels like some all powerful monster and it’s just delicious. 

The bed dips as he gets in beside you, lifting the duvet up and scooching in until his chest is pressed against your back, your warmth utterly intoxicating. You stir, a soft sleepy moan leaving your lips that makes his dick twitch. This is wrong in so many ways but he doesn't care, especially when his cold hand finds your leg, tracing up to the soft skin of your thigh and groaning when he feels the fabric of your panties. Though he skims over them for now, eager to feel more of you. It’s so easy for him to reach up under that shirt, trailing up over your stomach whilst softly grinding his stiffness into your behind, the knowledge of no bra making precum coat the tip of his cock. 

A cold hand grabs your breast, gently squeezing your flesh before taking your nipple between his fingers and tugging it lightly, it hardens instantly which makes him grin wolfishly. You again stir, arching your back into him, your behind rubbing against his erection. Your body subconsciously leans into the touch so he can’t help but give you what you want, largely because it’s what he needs.

So he shifts position, lifting your leg forwards to gain access to the part of you that was calling for him. He traces over your clothed pussy, brushing over your clit a few times and feeling your body tense with the slight stimulation.  

“Is that what you like, sweetheart huh?” He whispers, his breath spreading goosebumps along your skin, it doesn’t wake you but it’s close to. The throbbing of his cock makes him want you to notice. From there he slides his fingers under the fabric, immediately finding your core slick and gooey, he glides them through your folds, gradually becoming more risky with how he grinds his hips into you. The stimulation makes you moan, your eyes fluttering open and body instinctively trying to pull away, but he holds you firm, his other arms sliding under you to clamp over your mouth, disguising the sounds that tear from your throat. 

He shushes you repeatedly, his voice low in your ear, “Shush, sweetheart. It’s alright.” You’re ravaged by confusion, unable to tell if this was real, the fingers coated in your slick teasing your entrance and rubbing your clit felt achingly so, but how could this happen- it couldn't possibly be happening. 

You groan something into his hand and he briefly pulls it away enough to hear you, prompting you to say it again with a hum. Your brows are knitted as you speak, still trying to pull yourself away from him and the growing feeling building in your core. “...Mr Afton?” He grins into the back of your neck when you say his name like that.

“Yes, lovely.” 

You moan as his fingers find a perfect rhythm on your clit rubbing it vigorously and making the coil in your stomach tighter by the minute. “What… what are you doing?” It’s hard to speak, you’re so shocked that he’s doing this, that you’re living through it right now and that it feels so good. 

He doesn’t answer you, just chuckles into your skin, you aren’t riving away from him anymore but rather grabbing at the quilt now sticking to your sweaty skin, unable to decide if you want all this to stop or if you need him to continue. Your lower stomach is riddled with knots that are just begging to snap, the sensation completely overwhelming. You’re moaning pathetically, causing him to shush you again, you sound so good right now he’s dying to relieve himself somehow and just rubbing against you isn’t enough anymore, not when he knows how sweet and wet you are for him. And just, just as you’re screwing your eyes up ready to slam into your climax he stops, leaving your pussy twitching on the brink of your end. 

“Mr Aftonnn.” You whine, devastated that ecstasy was ripped from your tongue and desperate to feel it again. He moves behind you, pulling down his boxers enough to let his cock out, hissing as he strokes himself. You feel him pressing against your behind, then the stickiness of his precum smearing on your skin. 

“You gonna let me fuck that sweet little pussy?” The sound of his voice is so insanely dirty it has your head spinning, you nod, not remembering that he can’t see you. “Huh?” He prompts again, sliding his cock between your legs, the head notching against your entrance in such a way that it almost makes you jump.  

“Yes. Please.” You manage your voice hazy with tiredness and arousal, he doesn’t wait a moment, pressing himself inside the size of him stretching you to accommodate him. You whimper before he even gets to the hilt, your hands balled up in the sheets. 

He groans, sniggering slightly at how good you feel around him and unable to resist he starts fucking you. It’s an earth-shatteringly slow pace that has his tip pressing flush into your sweet spot, each time feeling like he was stealing the air from your lungs. The bed creaks with the movement, though he only just notices over the pretty sounds you’re making. You can’t help it, your orgasm is raising its head almost immediately and you want it so bad that you’re begging incoherently, grabbing at his hand which has found itself squeezing your breasts. And despite trying to keep the noise down his pace grows faster and more needy, the lewd sound of your wet cunt taking him in becoming more frequent. He’s muttering the dirtiest of things in your ear, mixed in with praise for how good you feel and how well you’re doing.  And it’s too much. Shuddering you hit your climax hard, muscles tensing as your wall clamp down around him and fluttering in the most perfect way. 

He grunts, fucking you more selfishly as your tightness begs him to cum. His pace wavers before he does shoving himself as deep as possible as he bursts inside you, filling you up without thinking. You gasp a little, still reeling from your orgasm but still aware enough to feel the sensation of his cum leaking out of you as he pulls out, leaving your cunt twitching. 

“Such a good girl.” 

[centrally-unplanned]

The trick on the whole "Israel banning UNRWA" thing is that most militaries - like say the US in Afghanistan for example - directly provision aid. American soldiers would often be handing out food packages themselves, and even if they weren't the aid organizations would be directly contracting with the US government and the Department of Defense. You have a group in the military and the government that is like, okay, how do we feed people, let's hit those targets.

So if Congress decided to ban the United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan in 2006 from operating in the country or whatever, that bill would say like "we hand over its mission to USAID, which has been allocated $2.1 billion dollars in FY-2005 to do X Y Z". It would probably be a dumb move that would create unnecessary friction and cost lives for political bullshit, but that is also life, people dying for political bullshit is a universal constant. It would probably be pretty small bore in the scale of things, like switching over contractors.

That isn't how Israel does things. I might be wrong about this, Israel is deliberately opaque about these things and I just gave this the ol' half hour of googling, I am open to being contradicted here. But my current understanding of net spending by the government of Israel itself on aid to Gaza is...$0. They do not provide aid. They permit aid from other organizations, funded by other countries, to be provided! But they don't take responsibility for the provision; meeting targets, outcomes, etc, none of that is their job. (I am sure it isn't literally zero btw, but I think you get my point)

It is really telling that when you look up pro-Israel statements by say AIPAC on aid, their headlines are:

Israel Facilitates Humanitarian Aid to Gaza as Hamas Continues to Attack

And they criticize the UN because the UN trucks aren't being delivered:

The United Nations and other international agencies are largely responsible for the existing delays in aid deliveries into Gaza. The U.N. has not been able to distribute aid at the rate that Israel is processing it, causing back-ups at the border crossings after Israeli inspections are completed. On March 3, the U.N. received 234 trucks in Gaza but only distributed 131 trucks of aid to civilians in the enclave.

If this was the US military, and the UN was getting aid trucks and failing to send them, we would send more of our own trucks? That we have? Because aid is part of the military operation. But Israel doesn't do that - because it doesn't have any trucks. Because aid isn't part of the military operation.

Which is why the bill banning UNRWA that is being passed does not mention aid provision to Gaza:

The international community has raised alarm over the legislation, which was passed without a plan in place for a humanitarian agency to replace UNRWA.

Again going off news sources here, link for the actual bill is currently down, if I am wrong will correct here, but I think it all tracks. So in the article above, you get statements from the government when people ask about aid, they reply, oh yeah these other aid organizations will fill the gap.

Then you ask the aid organizations themselves and they go, no, we won't fill the gap! We don't have the resources to do that! Which is logical when you realize Israel isn't funding those orgs. They don't know or care about their funding status. Hopefully someone else will figure that out - aid is someone else's problem. Those government remarks are just off the cuff, they aren't a plan.

Which I want to loop back around to the casus belli for the ban - UNRWA having ties to Hamas. That, to me, is one of those "uh duh, and?" things - Hamas is the government of Gaza. UNRWA runs schools there? And medical clinics? You think they do that...without contact with the government? This is just silly, the UN Mission in Afghanistan obviously had connections to the US Government! Government officials, working in both, par for the course.

But, and this is far more important, it is irrelevant. I completely agree that UNRWA has many people who are sympathetic to Hamas in it, because obviously they do. You want to ban it, dumb but okay. You propose a bill outlining the $2 billion dollars and the 5 partnered aid organizations and the 400 IDF trucks that will deliver aid to replace their work, sure. Whatever man, do your small bore politics bullshit.

That is not what they are doing.

Now, Israel has in fact allowed a bunch of aid in Gaza, I don't doubt that like USAID and the non-profit community and the governments of the UK and Japan and so on are gonna pivot funding to a bunch of organizations that will do herculean work stepping up operations and interfacing with the IDF checkpoint system and get aid in. Maybe they will do such a bang-up job that the cost in suffering won't be that high. Israel did give 3 months after all, they aren't the literal worst they could be.

But I do think at a certain point, the line between indifference and malice just ceases to matter. The UNRWA bill isn't some breaking point or big policy shift - it is just a highly revealing moment in the Israeli approach, why the war there has gone the way that it has. And it is, as the kids say, not a good look.

(h/t @loving-n0t-heyting as this was initially a reblog of their post, but they mentioned getting drama in the notes so I split it off; sorry to deny you the precious +1 internet point)

[snow-snowball]

Pretty boy (part 2)

characters: Paul Lahote; Seth Clearwater; Sam Uley; Leah Clearwater; Embry Call; Quil Ateara; Jacob Black.

a/n: English is not my first language, so I apologise for my mistakes. [Y/B/N] — your boyfriend’s name. Requests are open. @chrisxlifeline sorry for the delay!!!

w: 1,8k

warnings: fluff; 18+; curses; mention of alcohol; attempted rape; mention of a fight and bruises; first mewting with Jacob; brother!Jared with Quiñ; chemistry tutor!Y/N with Embry.

Embry Call:

Embry was always the shy type, blushing crimson whenever he received praise or a compliment. You, being one of the school's top students, naturally stepped up to assist classmates grappling with their studies. It was this very act of kindness that sparked a connection between you both – long before he transformed into a wolf. Now, Embry wasn't daft (grades don't define intelligence, after all), but chemistry? That was his Achilles' heel. No matter how hard he tried, it just wouldn't click. To get through to him, you had to find a unique approach tailored to his learning style. You suspected he possessed a creative mind, one that thrived on associations and analogies.

“Alright, Embry, picture Oxygen as... well, a total floozy,” you began, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Embry looked genuinely surprised, probably thinking you were too much of a goody-two-shoes to drop such a line. “It reacts with practically everything except halogens – think of them as her besties she's not into. But then there's Fluorine; Oxygen's gotta react with Fluorine because... imagine Fluorine is a dude with a major crush on Oxygen.” Embry nodded slowly, a flicker of comprehension in his eyes.

“So, Oxygen's a... flirt who gets with everyone but the halogens, but she's got this special thing going on with Fluorine?” he repeated, seeking clarification.

“Exactly! Nailed it!” you affirmed with a grin. “I'm betting that after our study sessions, your test scores will skyrocket!”

And you were right. He aced the exam.

Lately, though, Embry had been skipping school altogether. You weren't exactly best buds, but you'd hoped he considered you a good friend. To you, Embry always seemed like a sweet, well-mannered guy who wouldn't curse in front of teachers, kids, or girls. Sure, you'd overheard him swear sometimes, but only when he was hanging out with his buddies and oblivious to your presence. So, you decided to pay him a visit. After snagging his address from the homeroom teacher, you set off.

His house was modest, nothing special. After knocking, there was no answer. “If he's not home, where could he be?” Suddenly, a growl ripped through the air, emanating from the bushes. Stepping back towards the house and leaning against the door, you scanned the area. A silver-gray wolf emerged, ready to pounce, but another wolf, also gray but with a dark patch on its back, leapt in front of you. With a snarl, your protector chased off the larger wolf. Turning to face you, the wolf froze, its eyes widening in shock. “Embry...?” did you really recognize him? “No way, that's crazy. Embry? A wolf? Haha,” you laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. As you turned your head, the wolf was gone, replaced by your classmate, who appeared to have gotten a new haircut. “Oh... my... god...” were the last words you uttered before everything went black.

You awoke with a start, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across an unfamiliar room. “Where the heck am I?” you muttered, jolting upright in the bed. A wave of recognition washed over you as you inhaled deeply, a familiar scent tickling your senses. You leaned closer to the pillow, inhaling. “It smells like Embry's shampoo...”

“Didn't realize you could recognize me by my shampoo,” a teasing voice drawled.

Embry leaned against the doorframe, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. He was only wearing a pair of low-slung sweats, and you couldn't help but notice the surprising definition of his abs. “My eyes are up here, [Y/N],” he chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and sauntering further into his room. “So, what brings you here?”

“You've been MIA from school for ages, and I thought something might have happened to you...” you confessed, nervously twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

“Worried about me?” He raised an eyebrow.

“A little,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing.

Embry sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed beside you. He was at a loss of where to even begin. How could he possibly explain to you what he really was? And even more perplexing, how could he have imprinted on you?! He raked his hands through his hair, frustration evident in his eyes.

“Hey, if it's tough for you to talk about, you don't have to tell me anything,” you said softly, rising from the bed and making for the door. “That wolf...it was you, wasn't it?” At your words, Embry simply nodded, his expression unreadable. You pieced things together in your mind, a small smile gracing your lips. “You're pretty.”

“What?” Embry's head snapped up in surprise.

“I'm saying that as a wolf, you're also very beautiful and not scary at all,” you clarified, giving him a small wave. You reached for the doorknob, but he was instantly there, stopping you.

“So, you're not afraid of me?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice as he gently grasped your wrist. “Oh, shoot, sorry,” Embry immediately apologized, realizing he might have crossed a line.

“Not in the slightest. You protected me, after all. Thank you,” you said, brushing a quick kiss on his cheek before darting out of his house, your face burning. Embry stood frozen for what felt like an eternity, but when the reality of what had just happened hit him, he bolted into the woods, transformed into his wolf form, and let out a joyous howl.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Paul groaned, hearing the familiar howl. “I should have taken them both out.”

Quil Ateara:

He's your quintessential shy and insecure guy.

He never imagined he'd imprint on his best friend's sister. Especially when she already has a boyfriend. Being around you was pure agony for him because he knew you'd never look at him the way he looks at you.

“Hey, Jared, [Y/B/N] and I are hitting the movies tonight, so don't wait up!” you chirped, kissing your brother on the cheek and playfully ruffling Quil's hair. Jared barely had time to respond before you dashed off.

“I don't like that boyfriend of hers. Shady character,” Jared grumbled, grabbing a beer from the fridge. “Want one, bro?”

“No, thanks. Actually, I think I'm gonna head out,” Quil said, feeling his heart sink.

“Quil, I'm sorry, man...”Jared knew exactly what his friend was going through.

“It's cool, don't sweat it,” Quil replied, before leaving.

Truth be told, you weren't quite sure why you were dating [Y/B/N]. He had no shortage of attention from girls and was a decent student. Out of all the girls, he chose you – a feisty girl who wasn't exactly a fan of school. Were you two opposites attracting? Or… your thoughts were cut short by a kiss. He parked the car on the side of the road and started kissing you. You gently pushed him away, breaking the kiss. “What are you doing? We're going to be late for the movie.”

“Screw the movie,” he said, trying to unbuckle his belt. “I want you, right here, right now.”

“But I don't—”you were silenced by another kiss. You should have listened to Jared. From afar, your brother saw you having troubles with [Y/B/N]. [Y/B/N] was much stronger and heavier than you. It was impossible for you to move him, you didn't have enough power to do so. You felt like your arms would snap from pushing against his chest.

Suddenly, it became easier to push him away. He was yanked out of the car and punched in the jaw. “What the hell do you think you're doing, treating her like that?!” It was Quil. A very angry Quil.

“She's my chick, I'll do what I want!” The fact that this jerk called you "chick" set Quil off like a bomb. No one, and he meant no one, was allowed to call his queen that. He punched your now-ex-boyfriend in the nose, sending them both tumbling down the hill. Screaming in terror, you got out of the car and approached the edge. It was pitch black, you couldn't see anything. “Quil!!! Are you okay?” Silence. Then, a shadow started to approach you. Startled, you took a few steps back, placing yourself under the streetlight that dimly illuminated the road. Standing before you was your friend, covered in bruises. You rushed towards him, hugging him tightly and thanking him for saving you.

“It's okay, [Y/N], it's okay, don't cry.”

“But he messed up your pretty face!”

“Pretty?” Quil grinned, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He swept you up in his arms and started walking back towards your house.

“Yes! You're very, very beautiful!” You happily swung your legs, snuggling closer to him. “With your good looks, you could steal all my boyfriends.”

“Guess that's not such a bad thing, seeing as I'm going to be your only boyfriend.”

Jacob Black:

The guy knows he's good-looking, but his pride took a hit after Bella chose Edward. Just the thought of that damn vampire, who stole Swan from him, made him want to tear his hair out.

And so, needing a breath of fresh air, Jacob found himself at the edge of the woods. A gentle breeze wrapped around his body, causing him to shiver slightly, and the scent of newly blossomed flowers filled his nostrils. He could hear birds singing and the distant footsteps of some animals. It all calmed Jacob. He'd always felt a strong connection to nature, but after becoming a werewolf, that bond felt even deeper. Suddenly, a branch fell in front of him, then another. He looked up and spotted… a woman's backside and lacy panties?!

You were wearing a skirt and climbing up to get a ball you'd thrown up there.

How hadn't he sensed your presence before? Embarrassed, Black lowered his head.

“Hey you, now that you've taken a peek where you shouldn't have, how about doing me a favor: help me get my ball down. Or better yet, catch me!”

“What?” Jacob raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“I said, catch me!” You said, jumping down from the tree. Lucky for you, he was a werewolf with quick reflexes. Easily catching you, his eyes were level with your chest, and his strong hands gripped your hips as you steadied yourself, one hand on his shoulder, the other adjusting your hat. “Wow! Didn't know hotties were so...” your eyes met his, and it was like you both stopped breathing, the world stood still, and the spotlight was on you. “...strong.” You looked away, shifting and trying to get down. The guy set you on your feet and deftly climbed to the top, retrieving your ball. “We hotties are not only strong but agile too.” Saying this, he ruffled his hair. “I'm Jacob.”

“[Y/N], but for you, pretty boy, I can be whoever you want!” You laughed, taking your ball and brushing your fingers against his. “Well, hope we meet again, bye!” You waved and ran off.

“We definitely will, [Y/N].” The guy said, inhaling and catching the scent of your body. His mind was reeling. He sighed heavily and slapped himself on the cheek. “I'm worse than Jared, the pervert.”

Somewhere in the distance, Jared fell out of his hammock. “Who's talking about me again?!”

© 2025 do reblog, but don’t copy or publish my work on other platforms, or translate (without my permission) into other languages. Any coincidences are coincidental! The dividers belong to me! If you want use them, just tag me: @snow-snowball

[rei-ismyname]

X-MEN #17 Review

"I am Magneto and I do not give speeches."

The X-Men vs fake X-Men rodeo in the snow continues as Xorn searches for Quentin and the twin rampages on Merle. There stands Magneto, full of gumption and dexies, the only thing between a monster and a town full of ingrates. 3K yap on and reveal the identity of another member, a D-lister Mags knows well. Spoilers for all issues and solicits of adjectiveless X-Men.

RIP The Marauder, probably

Surprise! Quentin ain't dead. I don't think a single person thought he was, but a few minutes rest will be great for his health especially after falling out of the sky. I'm not sure how I feel about technobabble making its way into X-Men, as we get a flashback to Quentin writing 'code' to protect his body when he's unconscious. It's something Jitter in Uncanny does occasionally when her powers give her technical mastery - the mall fight was especially egregious for just shouting medical terms that few readers could understand, let alone The Outliers. I think it mostly achieves the intended effect here, highlighting Quentin's impressive capabilities and the 'levelling up' he's been doing since Cyclops gave him a talking to back in issue #9.

Kid Omega has been yapping about his mighty brain for decades, so I'm happy to call it payoff for all the 'supercomputer/10 million thoughts a second' stuff. As someone who coasted without effort on natural ability then hit a wall hard in high school, it's a bit of a power fantasy to see that potential as unlimited. 'Hey brain, make my body do exactly this at exactly this time' even more so.

X-Men are like communists - they spend too much time fighting each other. The 3K X-Men accusing the real ones of being fake sellouts just makes that hit harder. Honestly I'm over this fight with the amount of combatants standing still. I know it's meant to be a delaying action preventing the X-Men from backing up Magneto, but a team vs team fight lasting 3 issues is decompressed to the point of barely moving. Feels like AvX or similar stalling in an eternal second act.

I figured out what seems off about Magneto - his angles! He's usually chiselled and angular, even gaunt at times. Rounded features looks odd on him. I'm not even nitpicking there, I just needed to elucidate the nagging feeling I've had. In a word, he looks ugly. I enjoy Stegman's pencils in general but Diaz does a better Magneto. Just quietly I'm a little salty that Uncanny is getting Valerio Schiti - they do a stupid hot Magneto and I'd love to see it again. Anyway, Mags sounds like a fool here, as he makes a speech about not making speeches. I hope he's lying, because this motherfucker gives so many speeches. They're one of his best features.

Heard you the first time dude.

Another is that he's a mutant menace, a term that's been thrown around a bit lately. Mags and the twin go at it but he's not trying to kill her and it's unclear if he actually could. Either way, when they speak Mags responds with cutting regret and an implicit challenge. With Quentin still knocked out there's nobody to counteract Cassandra Nova's influence on the twin. Cassandra refers to the twin as a '13 year old girl' so add 'forcing gender binary on a non-corporeal entity' to the list of her crimes.

You used to be somebody, man

It's implied that Nova is laying it on thick here, or otherwise the twin has a really good grasp of race war concepts and rhetoric. If it's the former, I think something is lost by Cassandra Nova giving them a script to follow and basically puppeting them. Mags is trying to appeal to agency - the ability to choose, and they're actually having a back and forth.

The twin repeating Nova word for word raises questions about the degree of agency as they smash Magneto, who was just answering the question. The hope spot of his words staggering them is brief but suggests that this crisis will eventually be solved non-violently. I do have to laugh at Mags getting called out for betraying mutantkind by driving a sentinel to protect flatscans, especially as it's Cassandra Nova saying it. There's a real opportunity to show how this propaganda sits with the mutant on the street, so to speak. These X-Men are very mutant focused yet Graymalkin still stands. They have a history of being establishment lackeys and beating down/imprisoning mutants who step out of line. They failed the Morlocks and Xavier killed Krakoa. It's not that simple but propaganda is a powerful tool especially when life sucks. Cassandra Nova might be the worst spokesperson there though - Genosha was not an act of mutant solidarity.

I love Ben Liu and Beast cheerleading Magneto. Get these boys some popcorn! Ben's finger pointing is unfair but hilarious, 'hooptie-ass sentinel' is not a phrase I expected to hear in the year of our DOOM 2025. Ben running off to help Magneto is a beat that really works, especially if you take Magneto's mentoring allusion seriously. We haven't seen Ben use his powers since issue #2, so anything can happen. The flipside is any kind of success is going to feel a bit unearned, but fuck it - jab my boy with dexies too and get out of the way!

Wyre talks a huge game with not a lot to back it up. I kinda want someone to kill him for being cringe, a sentiment Cassandra Nova seems to agree with. There's a production joke here - Mackay wanted to use Sabertooth for his role but he was killed off in Sabertooth War. Creed is certainly more impressive than this dipshit and Quentin has nightmares about the guy. It's a beat that can work, giving Wyre something to prove, but we'll see how that plays out. Right now he's delivering exposition and stating his feelings plainly like it's 1975. He's not alone in that...

Me too, Astra, me too.

We get a better look at 3K, as the third member is revealed to be... Astra. *sad trombone noises* If you're not familiar she's an old Magneto worshipper and the one who created Joseph, thrice, I think. Bit of a one trick pony, though she does teleport. I can't say that she's particularly interesting or threatening, but I do like her 'clone an army of Magnetos, sorry Josephs, and flip the magnetic poles' idea purely for its unhingedness. The idea that she keeps bringing it up is pretty funny, these meetings must be so tense. Like I said, one trick pony even if it is a great trick. Her being an F lister with minimal development might actually work in her favour, as aside from being obsessed with Magneto she's a blank canvas. That she was last seen in House of X #5 suggests that 3K itself is fairly new. If that's their #1 reason for not inviting Sinister they're idiots. Like there's a very good chance he'll subvert your project for himself even if you don't invite him - MF does mutant science crimes for breakfast lunch and dinner. He blew up the universe with cloning!

More interesting is 3K's agenda - mutant supremacy taken to the extreme end point. It's very blatantly a great replacement conspiracy theory, which is a really uncomfortable idea to put to print. Turning humans into mutants has been done a lot, though the proposed scale is new. Another way to look at it is 'give everyone superpowers, kill the rest' though we don't know why they want to do that. 'Hating humans' is pretty dull but maybe more will be revealed next issue when we find out who the chairman is. I wish they'd just get it out now, this slowrolling is tedious. I'm almost positive it will be the cliffhanger next time, but like, just fucking spit it out! Let's get the plot moving, yo! We've been fighting in the snow for 70% of the run at this point, just tell us who you are and do your thing. Some C-list genetics bad guy from the 90s/00s? Thought so. It took 17 issues to reveal Astra, for fuck's sake, which doesn't exactly hype me for who's under the helmet. At that point, why bother? Just get on with the plot.

Magik's Soul Sword keeps getting wider, right?

In a lot of ways these 3K X-Men and their masters are The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants with some ORCHIS scraps and a bigger budget. Extremists coming at the X-Men with accusations of failing mutants is one of the oldest X-Men tropes in existence. It can be interesting, but it needs to have something to say. I want to see a pamphlet on their beef or something, see if they've got anything fresh or if they're just another extremist mutant group. The thing is that a mutant who decided 'fuck humans. I'm done with these genocides' is a pretty reasonable position right now. Fighting the X-Men like every other group before? Not so much. Go destroy Graymalkin or something, you know? If you really want to show the X-Men how it's done, do that. Do their job better.

Ben spearheads Jen flying Piper to her mother, ideally to help convince the twin to cut it out. It's a solid plan, though there's a very high chance she gets reduced to a smear real quick. Mama Cobb is a mutant hater and is culpable for this mess, and she's terrified. We'll see how that wraps up next time, or maybe the issue after that with this fucking pacing. It's great to see Ben and Jen coming into their own, and Beast looks like he'll have to fight Wyre. The greasy weirdo has snuck into their base, and while it'd be great for Beast to fuck him up I kinda hope Glob bonks him with a frying pan or something. Why not both? Solicits have told us that agent fuckface comes to jail Scott in the wake of this second Iron Night, and something about Revelation/the artist formerly known as Doug Ramsey, I think. That sounds fun, I just wish it didn't take so long to get there. Not out of impatience, I just object to the padding and repetition plus slowrolled mysteries that don't land. Or impact the plot/characters even. That's probably not happening, so this book will remain fun but very frustrating.

Also... Why is Tom Brevoort answering all the letters for this book and Uncanny? That strikes me as really weird. Really fucking weird. Does that seem odd to anyone else? We're still seeing letters about Raid on Graymalkin and Chuck Hunt, all answered by TB. If I was writing anything and the editor was handling the forward-facing fan interaction in a book with my name on it I'd be like 'all due respect but what's the deal here? Maybe stay in your lane.' He is the 'conductor of x' but this feels like clearing the orchestra to be applauded solo. I admit I'm super biased against him but it really sticks out to me.

Thanks for reading and much love! 💓

[rhaeverie]

Candy Cane Delays — lmk

‣ pairing: mark lee x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied friends-to-lovers, classmates au

‣ wc: 3k

‣ summary: Sure, it was disheartening seeing everyone receive a holiday candy gram but you, especially when you’re the one in charge of selling them at lunch. But don't worry, yours is on the way. He’s just… running a bit late.

‣ warnings: nothing i think,, reader’s kinda annoying about not getting a holiday candy gram but honestly same

‣ an: first part of my True Love Gave to Me Series YAY! Hopefully my writing’s good enough and this is somewhat cute bc I thought the idea was adorable,,, it honestly would’ve been longer and more detailed if I didn’t have 11 other mini fics to write but PLS ENJOYYY

Series Masterlist

Every year for the past 3 years, you've been in charge of selling the holiday candy grams for the winter dance.

And every year for those same 3 years, you’ve never, not even once, received a single candy gram. 

Sure, your best friend Yeri always offered to get you one for fun, but you told her off, cause in your mind it didn’t count when they tell you they’ll be getting you one. You wanted to receive one the good ‘ol traditional way—you wanted to be surprised. 

But whatever you wished, you never received. 

And that was okay. 

Because there came a point where you accepted the fact that you would probably never get one. It was a bit depressing (and maybe a tad embarrassing), but you simply chose to never get your hopes up every year just to be let down at the end. And though it was initially pretty easy ignoring this conclusion, it simply did not help that you were always put in charge of selling the damn grams. 

Every lunch period, you sit behind a table, a poster board with the words ‘PURCHASE YOUR HOLIDAY CANDY GRAMS FOR WINTER DANCE HERE!’ taped at its edge. You wait for students to approach you with pocket money, then you slide them as many candy grams as they pay for. Once they’ve finished filling out the slips of paper, you take the sheets back and begin preparing them by taping candy canes the school bought from the local dollar store. 

It was a routine you have gotten used to, and you don't expect to see any changes happening any time soon. 

“Can I have three, please?” 

You look up from your pile of candy canes to see your classmate, Jaemin, who’s blinking back at you with a wide smile. You nod and hold your hand out for him to drop his coins in. They land with a muted clunk noise before you drop them into the big metal bank you had pushed to the side. 

“Here you go,” you grin back, sliding three slips of paper toward the boy. He thanks you before turning to a nearby table and you’re left to turn back to the unfinished candy grams sitting in front of you. 

The time that lights up on the screen on your phone tells you that you need to start cleaning up soon so that you’re able to drop the candy grams off to the students distributing them for the day. Relief washes over you as you complete the remaining grams, just in time for Jaemin to return, gripping folded slips of paper in his fingers.

“Thank you,” Jaemin says, handing them to you, “I’ll see you in class, Y/N!” 

“See you, Jaemin,” you reply. And you quickly finish the last three before you start cleaning up. 

You place the empty candy grams on top of the earned money before locking the box. When you stand up, the chair makes an unpleasant noise against the floor and you cringe slightly. Rounding the table, you move the chair along with you, placing it on top and upside down for tomorrow’s use. 

“Am I too late?” 

Another person's sudden presence startles you, making you realize that you've been too absorbed in your tasks to notice the approaching footsteps.

You turn to friend and classmate, Mark, who’s out of breath and sweating from practically every gland of his body. He’s bent over with his hands on his knees and he’s trying to catch his breath. His glasses are slipping down the bridge of nose, but he quickly catches it with the tip of his index finger.

You can’t help but let out a laugh, “Ah, Mark… you’re late…” You pick up the bag of candy canes and sigh, “Again.” 

A sense of déjà vu washes over you. This exact occurrence has been happening for a week straight now and you’re trying to figure out how Mark even manages to pull the same thing each day. It was actually kind of cute, if you had to admit just once, and you’re admittedly curious as to what’s causing him to pull up to the table 30 seconds late. 

“I think my phone’s clock is three minutes too fast,” Mark frowns, eyes round as he brings his phone’s screen up to his face. 

You start walking down the hall and toward Mrs. Kim’s room, where everything was kept between days, “You do know that the clocks on our phones can’t be early, right?” 

Mark nods, though you don’t see. He’s still trailing right behind you, even into the classroom, “I know, but I just needed to blame something.” 

You two approach a closet at the corner of the classroom and you use a key to open it up. You place the things inside, making sure it’s neat and tidy and somewhere slightly hidden in case students decide to break in. You don’t mind Mark seeing where you hide it, though. You trust him. 

The boy gulps before he goes to ask you a question, “Hey, for the Winter Dance—”

“How were the sales today, Y/N?” 

Mark is interrupted by Mrs. Kim, who’s returning from her own lunch break. She glances at Mark and greets him at the same time.

“I think today had the most sales so far,” you reply, “So it went well! Do you want me to leave the finished grams here? I already organized them by class.” Shutting the door, you lock the closet.  

Mrs. Kim nods and makes room on her desk for the bag, “Yes please. Chenle and Jisung are coming in a bit to pick them up. Thanks for your help, Y/N.” 

You bow your head and offer a smile before you turn to leave, Mark following not too far behind. 

“What were you saying?” You look up at him, slowing your pace.

“Hm?” Mark’s head crooks to the side, “When?” Did he accidentally say something out loud?

“Before Mrs. Kim came in. You were saying something but I didn’t catch it.” 

Mark’s heart skips a beat and his eyes widen. Lucky for him, you don’t notice, eyes dead set on your guys’ classroom, “Oh… uh–I forgot.” Mark knows damn well what he wanted to ask you. But the confidence he had built up at that moment dies along with his words and he figures that he’ll just try again another day. He tries his best to play it off, throwing in a sheepish laugh to spice it up, “But if it comes up again, I’ll make sure to say it.” 

“You’re young and you’re already forgetful,” you joke, rolling your eyes playfully, “But okay, fine by me.” You turn to sit at your desk, seeing that Yeri’s already at her’s, but you stop yourself and turn back to Mark, “Are you going to be late tomorrow, again?”

Mark feels his cheeks heat up and his head lowers in embarrassment, “I’ll try not to.”

You let out a snort and nod, this time actually heading to your seat. 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

When Chenle and Jisung come around to hand out the candy grams, students around you perk up in anticipation of receiving one. Yeri nudges your arm when the boys start passing them out, plopping the very same candy grams you finished at lunch.

“Brighten up, you might get one today,” she whispers. Her eyes follow Chenle, who’s approaching the both of you. 

“I know I’m not getting one, Yers,” you shake your head, “I made them.”

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean you can’t get one,” she groans, “Maybe you’re not getting one because you’re being a Negative Nancy.” 

“Please never say that again,” you narrow your eyes at her. 

And when Chenle and Jisung start making their way toward the door and your desk is still empty, you turn to give Yeri a I told you so look.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Mark’s leg bounces out of anticipation as his eyes wander off to the clock hanging crookedly at the other corner of the room. He has 5 minutes to get up and leave and make it to the candy gram booth. But with the way Renjun was going on and on about an excerpt he had written for this week’s writing club meeting, Mark feels like he’s barely going to make it again.

For some reason, the hormones in his body are causing his heart to knock against his chest repeatedly. He can hear it pounding in his ears, practically drowning out Renjun’s voice. 

Sure buying those candy grams didn’t seem like that big of a deal to anyone else in the group, but to Mark, it was part of a plan he’s had written down in the notes app of his phone since November—asking you out to the winter dance through a gram. Mark knows that he can’t trust himself when it comes to verbally asking you. So a candy gram should do it (yes, he’s aware that’s a little bit dumb but it’s the thought that counts). 

The second that Renjun concludes his piece, Mark is up and out of the room, putting his chair in its rightful place behind a desk. He’s practically sprinting down the hall, slowing down into a walking pace when he passes by doors just so he wouldn’t be stopped and delayed for longer if a teacher had caught him running down the hall like some delinquent. 

He can see the intersection of the hallway where you always set the table up and he books it, the single strap of his backpack hanging on for dear life.

“Am I late?”

Mark stands in front of you, hands on his knees and he’s panting. It was the same exact scene as yesterday. “Please tell me I’m not.” 

You frown, glancing at the table you had just pushed up against the wall, “Sorry, Mark.” 

He groans, “I need to start leaving earlier.” Mark begins to trail you from behind, feet heavy from missing the candy grams yet again. 

“If it makes you feel any better, you have one more week,” you point out. Your arms wrap around the piggy bank and the coins jingle inside. Today was particularly more busy than the previous days. You question, “What do you even do over lunch?”

“I have clubs I go to,” Mark chews on his bottom lip, “It’s kind of stupid—”

“It’s not stupid if you enjoy it,” you shrug. He watches as you tuck the piggy bank and the extra candy canes at the back of the closet before shutting it, “And if you’re always running late you must actually enjoy them.” 

“I guess so,” Mark says quietly. “I’ll come in time tomorrow.” He says this more for himself than for you. 

You laugh, “We’ll see, Mark Lee.” Looking down at the bag of candy canes, you pull one out and hold it out to him, halting just outside of Mrs. Kim’s room, “I’ll give you one for free~” 

Mark stops and blinks at the candy cane in your hand and he sighs. The candy canes weren’t even the reason why he desperately wanted to buy the grams. He can quite literally drop by the store on the way home and get a pack himself if he wanted. 

Mark simply just wanted to get this plan done and over with. He wants to know if you’re going to reject him or if you’re going to say yes. But because this was being drawn out like some imperfect line across a ridiculously long page, he’s not going to know until he gets his hands on one of the candy grams.

But still, Mark lets himself smile at the gesture, hand grazing yours as he takes it, “Thanks, Y/N.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

For the next week, Mark (unsurprisingly) arrives late. He catches you either already cleaning the table up or already walking down to Mrs. Kim’s classroom to store the things. And everytime he does come late, Mark wants to beat himself up for it. 

But on the last day, you’re caught by surprise when Mark approaches you in the middle of setting up the booth. For once he isn’t out of breath, and he’s not sweating and hunched over. It was a refreshing sight—amusing, even. The effort this boy was putting into holiday candy grams was endearing and you hope that the people he’s sending his grams to know it. 

“First one here,” you giggle, “How many do you want?”

“Seven,” Mark shoots, “Please.” 

“Seven’s a lot,” You nod, sliding the seven slips of paper before you retrieve the money from him, “Do you know what to do?” 

“Um… just got a lot of people I care about,” Mark retorts. He grabs the slips of paper, a sigh of relief slipping out of his lips, “Thank you.” 

Mark disappears for a good while, though you can see him bent over a table across the hall, scribbling into the blanks like he was supposed to. He looked rather focused, mouthing the small messages he’s leaving on the candy grams. A small part of you is nosy, wanting to know who he’s sending these candy grams to and what messages he’s writing so intently. 

Once he’s finished, Mark returns to the table, placing the candy grams on the table in front of you, “Thanks, Y/N… I can’t talk right now—I do want to catch up with my club—but I’ll talk to you later?” 

You smile gently, taking the filled out candy grams, “Of course. I’m just glad you were able to actually get these today.” 

“Believe me, I am too,” Mark sends a warm smile before he bids you goodbye.

You huff and begin prepping the 7 candy canes for Mark’s seven candy grams. You go ahead and rip 7, inch-long, pieces of tape for each one and start your routine, taping each candy cane to each sheet of paper. 

“Last one,” you mutter to yourself, taking the 7th candy cane between your fingertips. 

When you go to grab the last slip of paper, you’re sent into a brief state of confusion when you don’t actually find a seventh slip. Your brows furrow and you let out an audible ‘huh?’ as you try to search your proximity for that last candy gram.

Did you miscount? Or did Mark just not use it? He could have gotten a refund if he wasn’t going to use it…  Why didn’t he tell you anything?

After thinking hard on it, you let the problem go for now, making a small reminder to yourself to ask Mark about it later.

Chenle and Jisung come to your guys’ class just before the day ends and you would be lying if you said that you had just the slightest bit of hope that you’d receive one since it was the last day—cause surely, for the entire two weeks you’ve been out at lunch selling that damn things, you’d get one, right? 

Sometimes, anticipation was a bitch. It was killing you watching Chenle and Jisung pull out each one from their shared bag, searching the room for the person receiving a damn gram before scurrying down the aisle of desks and plopping it down gently. With each one they would quietly say a ‘for you’ before turning back to the bag to grab the next one. 

Hope was a bitch, too.

“Once again, sorry for interrupting,” Chenle apologizes to your teacher before dragging Jisung out of the room. 

Just as they slip out of the classroom, the bell rings and you don’t find the energy to stand up just yet, eyes staring blankly at your empty desk. 

“You should have just let me get you one, Y/N,” Yeri frowns, rubbing the middle of your back for comfort. She knows exactly how you’re feeling right now, “Want me to treat you to ice cream later? Bubble tea? Anything?”

You shake your head and try to prop a smile on your face, “No, it’s fine, Yers. I just thought that…” Mark.  “Nevermind… Let’s just go.”

You finally push yourself up from your desk and grab your belongings. You leave the room in a hurry, Yeri struggling to keep up with your quick movements. 

From afar, right by your locker, you spot Mark standing there patiently with his hands buried deep into his pockets. And with the boring class you had just had and not receiving a candy gram yet again, you almost forgot that you had to ask Mark about the 7th gram—better yet—he was probably at your locker to tell you about it. 

“Mark,” you greet. Your fingers start fiddling with your lock as you absentmindedly put in your combination, “I wanted to talk to you about the candy grams.” 

“I was actually here for the same reason.” There’s a tone in Mark’s voice that catches you off guard. There’s a slight hint of uneasiness, “Um… and…”

“And?” Now he’s caught your attention. You don’t realize that Yeri’s standing by her own locker, trying to subtly listen in on the conversation. 

“Wait–uh–let me start with the candy gram first because then it can play out, I guess?” Mark shakes his head at how awkward he’s being before pulling out that 7th slip of paper from his pocket, “I…” He goes to read it, taking in a deep breath, eyes scanning it before he hurriedly sticks it out to you, “I was supposed to hand this in earlier at lunch but I figured that since you, you know, were the one doing the candy grams, I didn’t want you seeing it at such an awkward time?”

You’re frozen in place, gently taking the candy gram. With your heart skipping beats and the butterflies suddenly erupting in your stomach, your eyes bulge out of your eyes as you read your name on the sheet in Mark’s handwriting. This was a candy gram for you. To you, From Mark. Your first ever candy gram and it was from Mark. 

Your attention flies straight to the note in the given space beneath the To and the From. 

Your heart skips another beat. 

Winter Dance with me?

“I-I’m sorry there’s no candy cane with it or anything and I don’t have any chocolates or some present to give you and this is such a lame way to ask you to the dance I meant it to be a bit more romantic than this but—”

You cut off Mark’s rambling, “Yes.” 

“W-what?”

“Yes, I’ll go to the dance with you.”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @dinonuguaegi @niinjo (couldn't tag :(()

an: first part of my series YAY ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ meant to post it earlier but school and duties call rip,, i hope you enjoyed this! pls leave a like or rb if you enjoyed it and i wanna hear your thoughts on this;; it was the first one I wrote for this so I'm not sure if it's cute :( anyways THANKS FOR READING!

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Written for @steddieangstyaugust, day 6 - "Who did this?" Childhood friends Steddie, delayed because I'm still sick and sleeping most of the time, sorry. I will catch up eventually.

When he was eight years old, someone up there sent Steve Harrington a miracle. It was't flashy, shiny or anything, so it took him a while to recognize that it was indeed a miracle. It came in form of a boy about a year older than him, with a mop of wavy dark hair, large brown eyes and even larger smile - Eddie Munson.

Steve was doing well at that time, or so everyone kept telling him. His parents had the money to buy a big house, get him a babysitter when needed, send him to all the activities he wanted - only they were rarely with him. But that was fine. When you have everything that so many others don't, you can hardly complain about something as mundane as feeling lonely.

God, Steve felt lonely.

He was the rich kid, the one with the "nothing is ever good enough" parents, and that rarely won him any friends. They all expected him to organize parties, to get a bouncy castle for the afternoon, to bring a cake whenever they asked, but it felt like they never really wanted him. Steve found the feeling painfully familiar.

It took one gentle rejection of another set of requests and demands, a suggestion that maybe they could just go and check out the fair that was just unpacking nearby, and everyone lost interest in him, called him cheap. Unpacking meant that it wasn't open yet, and that Steve wouldn't pay for the rides. He was just leaving the playground when he heard a high, loud voice call out to him. "Hey, hey you! Yellow t-shirt! Wait!"

Steve stopped and turned around, glaring at the skinny kid rushing to him. "Yellow t-shirt?" he asked, wondering if he should be insulted.

"Well, duh. I don't know your name yet. I'm new here." The boy stopped in front of him with a wide smile plastered on his face. "But now I will. I'm Eddie, I moved in with my uncle a week ago. You are?"

Steve offered him his hand. "Steve. So, uh..."

Eddie laughed and shook his hand. "Hi, Steve. Now, did these sharp ears hear something about a fair?"

Something lifted in Steve's chest, something he never knew weighed so heavily on him. "Sure did!"

His new friend - only friend - beamed at him. "Then lead the way! "

..

It was after they properly inspected all the attractions that the fair had to offer that Steve noticed a bruise on Eddie's arm. It was pure chance - he and Eddie were swinging on a tree branch and Eddie's sleeve fell back, revealing a nasty bruise. It must have been older, but the size and discoloration were still enough to make Steve concerned.

"Who did this?" he asked, pointing at Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie seemed to freeze mid-swing. He dropped to the ground and pulled the sleeve back. "No one. I fell, I'm clumsy like that." He spoke fast and with that carefree smile, but Steve's gut had a mind of its own.

"Eddie. You don't get bruises like that from falling," he said and despite Eddie's protests, leaned in to examine the injury. He'd seen some like that, on kids whose parents tended to fight a lot, or at least according to his parents, "had a nasty violent streak". He always tried not to stare, but he knew what they meant. "It looks...looks like a punch. Did someone do that to you?"

The smile faltered and Eddie dropped his gaze to the ground. He shuffled around awkwardly on his feet, as if he was deciding whether to run. "Uh...yeah. I mean. It's probably not a secret, it's just that it used to? I mean," he added, noticing the confused look on Steve's face, "my dad tends to get angry a lot when things don't go well. He lost his job, mom left us...so yeah. That's also why I'm here, in a new town, new school...my uncle lives here. I'm staying with him."

"Is he..." wavered Steve, "...is he angry too? Will you be OK?"

If there were any tears in Eddie's eyes, they were gone in an instant. "Wayne? Oh no. He's great. He's a bit scary, but he's so nice. You know, he gave me his own bed. I told him I don't need it, but he didn't care. And he gave me some really cool books! You'll never have to worry about Wayne. Or me. That's a promise."

..

Steve didn't think Eddie meant to lie. "You'll never have to worry about me" sounded wonderful, but it never worked that way with them. And Steve found himself asking Eddie the same question over and over.

"Who did this?" he asked as Eddie came to the school with his head shaved, gently coaxing an answer from Eddie that his classmates thought cutting his hair would be a great prank. "It'll grow back even thicker, just you wait," he snickered, but Steve could see his restless fingers reaching out for the strands that were no longer there.

"Who did this?" he asked as he was helping Eddie fish out his school supplies from the pool. Eddie just laughed it off, saying he'd pissed of a bunch of seniors by not lying to their girlfriends about cheating.

"Who did this?" he asked as he saw Eddie with a black eye and his locker painted over with the word FAGGOT. Eddie shrugged and slammed the locker shut. "It's not like they're wrong," he whispered to Steve. When Steve turned up at his and Wayne's trailer in the evening, Eddie hugged him tight, as if he thought he'd never see Steve again over that admission. As if.

"Who did this?" he asked as he was picking Eddie up after his roleplaying club, Hellfire, and seeing that someone cut Eddie's tires. Eddie just laughed and explained that apparently dragons and adventures were the work of Satan now.

"Who did this?" he asked in marvel as he saw Eddie's first tattoo. It was so crooked and imperfect, but so much like Eddie. When he admitted it was his own work, Steve asked for one of his own.

"Who did this?" he laughed as he kissed Eddie for the first time and found a small braid hidden in his mane of hair. When Eddie admitted he made that one himself, that he gets restless sometimes, Steve asked to teach him. So he could always braid Eddie's hair for him when they eventually moved away together.

But maybe the answers didn't matter.

The answer to "who did this?" didn't matter to the mob that gathered after Chrissy Cunningham's death. They decided they knew already.

"Who did this?" didn't matter when Steve raced to the hospital with badly injured Eddie in his car, the wound on his head bleeding onto Steve's pristine window.

"Who did this?" lost its importance when Wayne and Steve waited for the dreaded news.

And knowing who did it certainly doesn't help Steve now, as he and Wayne are picking up a headstone for Eddie's final resting place.

[mins-fins]

all flights are delayed !

"i like to call myself a pretty man connoisseur.."

synopsis: your sad to say it, but you don't have much going on in your life. you have a very time consuming major, just a few friends, barely any time to go out, and spend most of your free time either a: working, or b: sleeping. so for once, when you finally have the friday off, and your dragged off to go watch a football game between a rival school of yours, you really do wish you were anywhere else. somehow though, it turns out to be one of the best things to happen to you, because a charming oreo–haired musical theater major from your rival school just happens to saunter his way into your life, you didn't expect to fall in love in your junior year, but your also not complaining!

pairing: xiao dejun x male!reader

genre: college au, strangers to friends to lovers, musical theater major!xiaojun x health science major!reader, fluff, like the lightest of angst, lowkey fast burn 😖

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, kissing(?), gay people, a little miscommunication, reader having a crisis over oreo xiaojun, probably a lot of repetitive phrases, huang guanheng is EVERYWHERE

word count: 12.8k

notes: OKAAAAAAAY hello! now in the beginning i really did enjoy writing this but after like the fourth scene its all so disgusting and jumbled up but i am also very proud of myself because this is the longest ever fic i have ever written (it is all xiao dejuns fault), actually it is ALL of nct's fault because why do i have a bunch of 8k word fics of so many nct members..😢 anyway if this seems any rushed or makes absolutely no sense at times its because im tired and i worked extra today but it doesn't really matter because constructive criticism is good (i shouldn't even publish this tbh) but there is a first for everything! enjoy!

YOU'VE NEVER BEEN A FOOTBALL FAN. now you know that might be a little of a sour opinion, especially to the men in your family, but it's just never been a sport you enjoy. it is just a little fun to watch, especially when drunk, because the sight of men in tight ass clothes running around a field chasing a ball is possibly one of the funniest things you think your drunk mind has ever seen. which is why now— in the stands, listening to the loud shouts and screams from your schoolmates, and rival scholars, you feel as if your ears have just been popped.

after all the days of working, and doing nothing but schoolwork, you were glad to have the rest of the friday off. there was nothing else you wanted to do but put on an oversized sweater, make a bowl of ramen and rewatch gossip girl for the seventy fifth time already (yes, you keep count), but no— guanheng decided he was going to drag you out of the dorm to watch stupid football game, one about "school spirit" or whatever, you weren't paying attention to him when he decided to go on his ramble, and now he's abandoned you once again! probably off to go talk to one of his 1000 other friends or something.

you almost consider leaving, but then you witness the amount of people you'd have to maneuver through, the amount of excuse me's you'd have to utter, the amount of pushing you'd endure as you tried to make your way through the crowded stands, besides, you can't leave without guanheng, your pretty much the only person responsible for keeping him alive at this point.

so you somehow suck it up and manage to stick around. your ears are practically on fire right now, and you desperately want to take off your shoes because of how they are poking you at the moment. you almost feel like your being pressed together by all the people in the stands, as if walls are slowly pushing in and crushing every single bone in your body.

"that team is doing horribly.." you mutter to yourself in an attempt to calm your crazy mind.

"i know, we suck".

at first you think you've made up the voice, because in the past hour and a half all you've heard is shouting, cheering, and loud music blasting on your ears, no one has made any attempt to talk to you since guanheng up and left you alone in the stands, so the response almost seems like muddled up words created by your brain as a response—

but it's not.

someone actually did respond to you, and in a split second there is a completely new person standing beside you, also observing the game but not looking as pleased to be there. when you do glance to your left, you come across possibly the most beautiful boy— no, person, you come across the most beautiful person you think you've ever seen in your twenty years of living, for once it feels like everything stops.

you are not the kind of person that just.. does that. now you've met tons of pretty people, you've met so many people that you could definitely say are so beautiful they could be displayed in a museum as an art exhibit, but never in your twenty years of living have you ever seen yourself go silent at the sight of a beautiful person— your brain feels like it's malfunctioning, you're not exactly sure what to say, you open your mouth but no words come out, and you almost consider punching yourself because you probably look like a complete idiot right now.

"oh? you don't go here?"

that's what you decided to say? of all things you could've said, of course he doesn't go to your school, he just implied that the other team belonged to his school, why would that be the best thing to say out of everything else?

the stranger looks up, then he laughs, and your not sure how you keep your composure. "oh no, i go to vixsith" he replies, using his thumb to point backward, though he's not pointing at anything in specific, just pointing to point. you're not sure why you pick up on that, or why you're even watching where his hands are going anyway.

"your insulting your own team?" you inquire, and he laughs even harder at your question, covering his mouth with his hand. "this is about school spirit, have faith in them" you joke, and all he does is continue laughing, crossing his arms as he tries his best to calm himself down.

"i'm being honest, the only person on that team who knows how to play is mark, he deserves better" he remarks, eyes focused on the player he just named. he then seems to have a random realization and turns to you once again. "i'm dejun by the way" he holds out his hand for you to take, and you just blink at it like an idiot, before coming back to your senses and quickly shaking his head.

"y/n".

at the sound of your name, he seems to have yet another realization. he points at you and narrows his eyes. "we have a mutual friend don't we?"

at the question, you narrow your eyes, cogs turn in your brain as you think about who he could possibly be referring to, then it comes to you—

"guanheng".

the two of you say his name in unison, and the two of you both try to stifle your laughs as the realization dawns on you. "he knows everyone i swear" you mutter, and dejun snorts, looking away from you to laugh. "even from other schools.."

"oh we go way back" dejun responds, moving his hair out of his face. "middle school actually" he adds, and your eyes widen, as if your shocked, of course guanheng has friends from way back when, why are you surprised?

you don't feel as surprised as you do lucky..

"was he still as inhumanely flexible as he is now?"

dejun laughs again, he does that a lot. "yes, yes he was".

"he talks about you a lot.. you know" dejun comments out of the blue, tucking his hair behind his ear. "he basically lives with us, and if he's not sleeping over we always assume he's with you".

"oh so that's why he always just.. appears and disappears.."

"yeah that's kind of his thing" dejun scrunches his face, looking bored by the lack of action happening on the field. "i can never find him unless he directly comes to me first" he doesn't look at you as he says those words, but you're very much staring at him the whole time.

you almost feel like a creep in a way, you want to punch yourself in the face again for continuing to stare at him. you blink a couple times before turning your face away, trying to correctly articulate your thoughts.

"both teams suck".

you only say those words because you want him to continue talking, you want to hear him talk, it's nothing that crazy, having a conversation with him is just so intriguing to you for some reason..

"well yeah— but you guys get more training so you have an advantage" he comments, narrowing his eyes at the field, arms crossed over his chest. "the guys on our team have no idea what their doing".

"do you like football?" you ask, not sure why your so interested in his answer, you just are, you have no explanation for your sudden intrigue of this charming oreo–haired boy that goes to your rival school.

your much too distracted by how gorgeous he is to worry about giving yourself an explanation.

dejun laughs again, shaking his head. "not really, my dad does, so i just know things because of all his screaming and shouting" he replies, arms still crossed over his chest. "i'm not really a sports person, i do musical theater for pete's sake".

"oh so you sing?" you don't mean to ask another question, you're worried that you might be bothering dejun with your constant inquiries, but he actually seems glad, excited that someone is asking him about his major.

"well yeah" he responds, his smile growing. "all things theater, i write the songs, i act the parts, i play instruments, sometimes i even take offstage roles instead of my usual onstage ones".

he fiddles with his fingers, picking his nails. you assume, from his mannerisms, that he doesn't know what to say because most people don't really ask him about his major, or what he does, it's like he's elated that you even asked him.

"what about you?" dejun instead asks, veering away from the topic of his major and instead making yours the main topic of discussion. "what do you do?"

"health science" you say the words as if it pains you to, like it's the single most uninteresting thing you've said this whole interaction. "i know, it's boring".

dejun laughs again; "no no! i didn't say that!" he waves his hands in a disagreeing manner as he chuckles at your words. "i just don't meet a lot of people interested in pursuing science.."

"it's more of the health aspect than science actually" you mutter, and dejun just looks even more interested in what you have to say now. "but science is a big part of it so.."

"you must be very smart then" dejun remarks, smiling as the two of you make eye contact.

"i'm alright" you just say, finally pulling down your formerly rolled up sweater sleeves now that the air outside has begun cooling down. you only lightly shiver, and you glance back at dejun one more time..

"where do you think guanheng is?" he asks, clearing his throat as he scours the still full and lively bleachers, searching for your friend. "off doing whatever he does.."

you're currently very distracted, and you don't even realize what's going on when you snap out of whatever daze you were having and everyone is suddenly standing up and cheering like there's no tomorrow.

dejun looks over at you, and he can clearly see how confused you are because he laughs for one last time. "you guys won!" he somehow manages his voice over the roar of the crowd. "congrats!"

he's yelling, but he's not exactly loud, he still manages to sound so gentle whilst yelling at you.

"thanks!" you blurt out as a reply, and you feel like a complete idiot for that, but dejun smiles, so you don't feel all that embarrassed.

the game is over, and people are going to start to leave soon. dejun looks back, spotting a group he recognizes, then he looks over at you, a smile on his face. "i've gotta go now" he says, almost disappointed in a sense. "it was nice meeting you y/n!"

you nod, not knowing what to say. "yeah! you too!"

you too? you too?? is that what you say y/n!?

dejun gives one more beautiful smile before heading off, and you blink, having absolutely no idea what just transpired in those few minutes.

holy shit i forgot to ask—

but you couldn't— because he was gone, gone in such a flash you couldn't even spot his oreo hair in the crowd.

YOU FORGOT TO ASK FOR HIS NUMBER. YOU FEEL SO STUPID, your not even sure why you wanted to ask him that, but in the back of your mind that was the question you were preparing yourself to ask from the moment he told you his name, that he was friends with guanheng, the moment the two of you began laughing about your majors and stuff like that. the whole interaction with a pretty oreo–haired musical theater major at a football game is all that you were thinking about last night, as you tried to find pretty much anything else to think about as you struggled to sleep.

how did you forget to ask him for his number? you want to smash your face into your computer screen because of how stupid you are. you said "you too!" like a fucking idiot, but maybe you were just too distracted, he was smiling at you with that beautiful smile and staring at you with his absolutely gorgeous fucking eyes, how could you even think coherently whilst a beautiful man (from a whole other school but who cares?) was staring at you with his pretty brown eyes like you were the only person in the world?

okay your pushing it now..

but there is just something, something about him that drew you in, your not sure why you were so adamant on getting to know him, but he was just so— you can't explain it right now! you are currently very sleep deprived and also moody because of your disappearing roommate that always decides to appear at the worst times.

you don't remember the last time you ever got an actual eight hours of sleep, these days that seems like a dream more than a reality, but guangheng is just never tired. he's somehow always up, doing something, hanging out with people, he never sits down in once place and just stays still.

when he walks into the room, hands on his hips and gaze immediately focused on you, you barely bat an eye at him, just spare him a quick glance, noticing how pissed off he looks. you scour your mind for an explanation as to why he must be mad now, probably something someone said, or he got into yet another argument with one of his classmates, your not even sure anymore, you don't know where he is half the time.

"could you do me a favor?"

you almost laugh out loud, not at him, but at the idea that he wanted you to do him a favor. at this point, he probably owes you thousands of favors considering how many you do for him, but he seems upset, and you don't have any of that pettiness leftover to ignore him, so you move your eyes to look over at him.

"why should i?"

okay— you lied, your still just a little petty, but you totally have every right to be! guanheng deserves just some sass from you after disappearing each and every time he decides to take you out somewhere.

guanheng blinks, then he pulls out the signature guanheng frown, a sad stupid frown he always makes when he wants to persuade you into doing something. you're not sure how you've even ever fallen for that signature frown, maybe it's because he's just so great at looking sad, at looking upset, he somehow always manages to make you feel bad for him, and therefore, end up doing the favor for him.

"because i'm your best friend, your roommate, and you love me so much" guanheng smiles wide, like he just found out he won the lottery, and clasps his hands together as he rocks back and forth on his heels.

"i don't know.." you mumble, looking back at your computer screen. it's a saturday, you have no classes saturday, you can just sit down, relax, be the absolute lazy motherfucker you were put on this earth to be. "i don't feel like going out today".

guanheng huffs, crossing his arms. "one last favor! just one! then i'll get off your back!"

"your horrible at following your promises, heng" you comment absentmindedly, your tone is much meaner than you intended, and guanheng's gasp is enough to tell you that he indeed takes offense to those words. "what? i'm not lying".

"y/n!" oh great, he's whining now. "i will get you anything i can, anything! just this one favor! please?"

your about to say no again— but then it's like a lightbulb goes off in your head, and you get a spectacular idea. anything? he did say anything, and he can give you something you want.

the number of a pretty boy preferably!

you let out a sigh, and guanheng knows what that sigh means, it means you agree. "fine, i'll do you this favor, but this is the last one".

guanheng's smile brightens, and he cheers like a kid that just got the best christmas present one can receive. "thank you! thank you! thank you! i love you!" he kisses your cheek, and skips off to another room.

"get your jacket!" he shouts, already rooms away from you, so he has to shout.

"what?"

"get your jacket! were leaving!"

you furrow your eyebrows at his words, but you don't say anymore, because you did agree to do this favor for him after all.

so, without questioning it more, you get up and go grab your jacket.

"SO WHEN YOU SAID A FAVOR..?" you don't continue on with your sentence, pausing to let out a breath as you shove your hands into the pockets of your jackets. guanheng looks over at you, and he just chuckles at the unreadable expression on your face. when you agreed to do this favor for him, you didn't know it included leaving your dorm and having to be dragged out to yet another unfamiliar place. "did you forget to mention the fact that we'd have to leave the school?" you finally finish, eyes focused and narrowed on your friend, who again, smiles at you with that signature guanheng smile.

"it's a saturday, most of us don't have classes anyway, they won't question it".

"is that supposed to make me feel better?" you ask to yourself more than to guanheng, but he hears you anyway, and that results in a snicker from him. despite that, he doesn't respond to your silent question, making you frown just the slightest.

"stop pouting".

"i'm not pouting" your quick to rebut, rolling your eyes at his words. you almost bump into him when he suddenly stops, and your about to yell at him again for being stupid when he places a finger on your mouth.

he knocks on the door in front of him, not paying attention to the burning glare your currently sending him.

"i'll bite off your finger" you threaten, moving forward and pretending your about to do that. guanheng squeaks and quickly moves his fingers away from your lips, a flash of true fear in his eyes. all you do is give him a menacing and totally not threatening smile.

"psycho.." he whispers, he looks like he's about to say more, but the door opens, so he closes his mouth and turns around.

"come on!"

he grabs your wrist and drags you into the dorm, and you felt your heart rate increase. maybe he knew these people, but you sure didn't! what if they thought you were weird? you want to pull him back and tell him that he shouldn't just drag you into some strangers dorm, but he is much too distracted to even notice your uneasiness.

"i've returned!" guanheng yells, letting go of your hand to place his hands on his hips, as if he was proud of himself.

"can you slam the door on him!?"

"ten! come to me!"

before you can ask him what the hell is going on, he sprints down the hallway, you assume to go after this ten person, you just blink, shoving your hands into your pockets as you begin to rock back and forth on your heels.

"hello stranger!" an unfamiliar voice exclaims, you look up and come face to face with a pink–haired boy with a bright smile.

"hello" you reply politely. "i like your hair" you immediately remark, pointing at his hair like an idiot because you don't want to touch it and make him uncomfortable.

his face lights up, as if you were a millionaire that just gifted him a life changing amount of money. it was as if no one ever told him that his hair was pretty before, or that they liked it. he jumps up and squeals, excited. "thank you! ten said it was stupid!"

you furrow your eyebrows, then chuckle. "what? no it's very pretty, pink suits you!"

"hah! i told you guanheng! pink does suit me!" he yells down the hall, and you can hear the small shout of rebuttal that guanheng responds with from all the way down the hall. "thanks! only a few people actually noticed that i dyed my hair".

you laugh again, okay he is very funny, you like him!

"oh! i'm yangyang! the nicest person who lives here!" he introduces himself in the same fashion a reality tv star would, and quickly grabs your hand to shake it. you don't complain, just laugh again as he vigorously shakes your hand.

"y/n, it's nice to meet you".

he gasps, recognizing your name. "oh you're the famous y/n! guanheng always talks about you, for a long time i was convinced he was in love with you!"

"why are you tarnishing my brand!?" guanheng shouts again, sounding even more pissed off than he did before. "huh!? liu yangyang!?"

yangyang shakes his head, ignoring guanheng's loud shouts and flapping his hand, mocking him. you laugh as you watch him mock the other, who has absolutely no idea what he's doing right now.

"you have a project to do!" another unfamiliar voice shouts.

yangyang gasps again, suddenly looking stressed. "fuck yeah— um!" he turns around and reaches over to grab his laptop, then he turns back to you and gives you a smile.

"yeah, my apologies" you just wave it off, urging him to keep going. "um i'm doing a project where i have to interview people on their majors.. trust me i don't know either, but! i've interviewed like the whole school already, and i need one more person.."

"and that person is me?" you ask, but you already know the answer to that question, yangyang nods, much more quickly than he seemed to intend to.

"yes!" he exclaims, but then he clears his throat. "but only if you want to, i don't want to force you into anything you don't want to do—"

"no no no it's fine!" you cut into his sentence, shaking your head. yangyang, again, looks elated that you agreed.

okay so this was the favor guanheng wanted you to for him! (not for him necessarily— but his friend). he could've just told you about this straight up instead of being vague about it, it wasn't even that burdening of a favor, not like the other ones you've done for him.

"guanheng! why don't you bring him around more often? he's better than you are!" yangyang yells again, probably for the nth time that hour.

guanheng doesn't answer, but you knows he's pouting, you can just sense it at this point, you call it your "roommate instincts".

"oh hi y/n".

now that's a voice you recognize, and you almost don't believe your eyes when the one person that kept you up all night walks into the room and smiles as he sees your figure. "dejun, hi" you smile back at him, hoping you don't sound as awkward as you feel.

dejun looks so so pretty, as he always does. he fiddles with the necklace hanging around his neck, his eyes lingering on you for an unspecified amount of time.

"ten hit me with his shoe" guanheng suddenly storms into the room, arms crossed over his chest. "asshole.." he mutters under his breath, huffing like some sort of baby.

dejun then laughs, covering his mouth with his hand, and that causes you to laugh, turning your head to the side as to not make it obvious.

guanheng exchanges glances between the both of you, a prominent glare in his eyes, but then the look in his eyes changes, and he points at the two of you. "you two have met?" he asks.

dejun pauses, still humored by the previous words said by guanheng, and your brain almost malfunctions once again. "i— um" great, you just sound so natural and not awkward.

"we met at the game" dejun immediately says, saving you the awkwardness of having to collect your words in your brain. you thank whatever god or deity up there for dejun's quick response, and he just flashes you that familiar pretty smile. "yesterday, you know, while you were off doing who knows what.."

guanheng gasps, looking at dejun like he'd just cursed his entire bloodline. "you— your just such a bitch! you know!?"

"ow! don't punch me! i'm fragile!"

guanheng lands one more punch on his shoulder, and it gets one more squeak out of dejun, who jumps once again. "i don't care, your horrible".

yangyang blinks, probably already used to their little quarrels. he then turns to you, just shaking his head as they continue to whisper–argue. "so, what do you major in?"

it's almost like you totally forgot, his project, the thing that guanheng dragged you here to help him with. "health sciences, i take courses in everything related to healthcare and like— half actual science courses?"

"so your looking to work in healthcare?"

"yeah basically, i've already taken courses in emergency service's, becoming a paramedic is my top option!"

yangyang gasps at your words, he looks over at guanheng, then quickly back at you. "are you single?" he asks, again with the same quickness.

dejun snorts, hitting guanheng as begins laughing hard. guanheng scrunches his nose, staring at yangyang like he's crazy. "what kind of question is that!?"

"what? that is a totally valid question to ask!" he exclaims, crossing his arms. "it's for my project! clearly!" he lies.

"your— oh my god, unbelievable".

"so are you?" yangyang asks again, looking at you with suspenseful eyes. he is very much interested in your answer it seems.

your finally finished with your laughing fit, and nod, still very amused. "yes i am, i'm single".

"good, this is very important information".

yangyang gives you a giddy look, and dejun just continues to laugh.

you're not sure why your so focused on him though..

YOU AGAIN, HAVE NO LUCK SLEEPING that night, and after the first hour and a half of tossing and turning, you gave up on trying to chase slumber you knew you wouldn't be able to catch. you assumed that the longer you stared at your computer screen, the quicker you'd get tired and the quicker your eyes would become heavier, but no! it's now almost two in the morning and you still aren't sleepy in the tiniest bit, you didn't know insomnia got this bad, if you knew this prior to coming back to school this year, you would've bought more of those sleeping pills. you lean your chin onto your hand as your computer continues playing audio from a random episode of brooklyn nine–nine.

the millions of thoughts rampant in your mind were probably distracting you, rendering it impossible to sleep, and also rendering it impossible to focus, seeing as your just looking around your room, which is pretty much boring you considering all you've been doing for the past thirty minutes is looking around your own room.

you think your gonna bore yourself to death, you pretty much prepare to stay up for the next five hours until your alarm rings and startles you out of your daze (which has happened way too many times for your comfort), but then your phone rings.

it's almost two in the morning, who exactly is calling you at this time? who knows that you're awake at 1:56 in the morning and decided to call you? they probably knew you'd pick up..

and you know who it is— it's so obvious.

dejun.

you don't mean to pick up your ringing phone as fast as you do, you want to punch yourself in the face for how desperate you seem, and you almost don't answer the phone because you feel so embarrassed. "hello?"

"hi!" dejun sounds way too joyous for someone who is sleep deprived, and up at 1:57 am. "sorry? was that too loud?"

"no no your fine" you reply, even though the speaker is on, guanheng can quite literally sleep through anything, there was one time the fire alarm was going off for a good ten minutes and he didn't even budge. "guanheng is a pretty heavy sleeper".

"he's lucky, i can't sleep" the sound of shuffling on the other line resonates in your ears, and dejun huffs, sounding frustrated. "you were the only person i assumed would be awake".

you snicker. "why is that?" you inquire, he was right, of course, but you just wanted to hear his reasoning, and also wanted him to keep talking.

you really like dejun's voice for some reason, it just scratches the right part of your brain. in these past two days you realized that you like a lot of things about dejun, many more things than you thought you might.

"your major has the word 'science' in it so i just assumed the amount of sleep you get is slim to none".

now that gets another laugh out of you, you laugh much more than you intend to, but also— it's dejun, and you can't resist the loud laugh that escapes your lips.

oh your such a desperate little bitch—

"well you'd be correct" you respond, humming as you pick at your nails. "at this point sleeping is beginning to make me tired".

there's a long pause, and your worried you made everything more awkward, because you don't hear anything from the other line. for a moment, you're almost convinced dejun hung up on you, but before you can speak he beats you to it.

"i can keep you company until you get tired" he immediately suggests, and you almost choke on your spit when he says that. "i don't mind".

you go silent, feeling as if all logical thoughts in your mind have suddenly disappeared into the air. you might sound like a complete loser right now but that was just so sweet of him to suggest, you smile much too wide for your own comfort, but you don't even think about that, because your just so charmed by the words.

"you are.." you pause, clasping your hands together as you think about what words to say next. "yeah yeah, that's fine" you finally continue, your new words having no connection to the previous ones you previously said, you just hope dejun doesn't notice.

"good! it would've been awkward if you said no" dejun giggles, and you just can't get over how cute he sounds. "plus, i wouldn't want you to be tired in the morning, lord knows how much you do in a day.."

you feel an unfamiliar fluttering feeling in your stomach, because he is so considerate? he wants to help you, he's just being so nice to you at.. two! two in the morning! you bite down on your bottom lip, hoping it doesn't bleed from how hard your tooth drives into it.

"aww, you care about me that much?" you ask, just wanting to hear him talk again. you feel like a teenage girl giggling and kicking her feet over a high school crush, except you can't kick your feet and giggle because then dejun would know.

"okay, be quiet, don't make me hang up".

"okay okay don't do that!" you say, totally meaning to sound as desperate as possible this time. "if your not here i won't ever fall asleep".

you hear something similar to a squeal on the other line, as if dejun had heard your words and just freaked out.

the realization honestly boosted your ego.

"you— you suck!"

"you offered to help me jun, don't get like this now!"

you're not sure how long it goes on for, but you swear you two laugh all night while on the phone.

"SO WHOSE THE GUY?" the question is asked so abruptly that at first, you assume you heard your friend wrong. when you look up, he stares at you with that deadpanned gaze, and that's when you realize he's completely serious. you chuckle at the realization that your friend is sure that your in love with someone (well you are— your just surprised that he figured out so quickly). "what guy? there's a guy?" you tilt your head, acting as if you have no idea what he could possibly be talking about. you giggle as you watch him slowly get even more irritated by your answer.

"you always come in here looking a little less miserable each day" chenle observes, leaning forward as he narrows his eyes at you. "someone is making you excited to live life?"

"do i always come in here looking miserable?" you ask, completely diverting your attention from chenle's previously asked question, which makes him pout.

"yep!" renjun exclaims, sitting beside you, he crosses his legs in his chair and presses his lips into a thin line. "so! who is he?"

the two seem way too excited to know about your never talked about before crush on dejun. now— you didn't know it was so obvious that you were now smitten for this new guy, you're usually the friend that's known from straying the furthest away from love, you don't remember any people you've legitimately liked that weren't elementary school crushes..

so yeah, your friends totally had every right to be surprised, because your absolutely smitten for a man and they just want to know who this man that is making you so happy is!

you hate that you give in so easily. "he's one of guanheng's friends.." you mutter, picking at your nails, looking down to make sure you don't witness renjun and chenle's reactions with your own two eyes.

renjun gasps, sounding like those ladies at the hair salons that just heard the juiciest gossip. "ooh! who? does he go here? do we know him? is he pretty?"

chenle looks over at renjun like he's crazy, that familiar judging stare in his eyes as he watches renjun lean closer to you with a totally not creepy smile on his face. "don't you think your acting a little too interested in this?"

"i just want to know!" renjun shouts, playfully glaring at the younger. he then turns back to you, and you assume his cheeks must be hurting from how hard he seems to be smiling. "tell me please?"

"he's— he's just your run of the mill pretty guy who is nice, and smart, and absolutely adorable who tells horrible jokes that still end up being funny in some way and he has a pretty laugh and i just love his voice, and talking to him, and, i can't even explain it because it'll sound stupid!"

"you sound like a psycho" chenle immediately says, laughing at you like you just confessed to an atrocious crime against humanity. you sink into your chair, slumping towards the side.

"aww! the pessimistic y/n is in love!" renjun squeals, again, like those women at the hair salon who just heard the juiciest gossip. he grabs your arm and shakes you vigorously, causing you to get dizzy in the slightest bit. "i can't believe i've lived to see this day!" he shouts, continuing to shake you as you can't properly get out your cries for help.

"renjun you're gonna kill him" chenle pinches the older in the arm, making him yelp and jump, he giggles as he witnesses the glare the older male sends him, his crushing grip remains around your arm, but you don't even mention at this point, because at least he's not shaking you anymore.

"sorry" he remarks, definitely not sorry as he squeezes your arm once again, beginning to get overly excited. "it's just.. exciting you know?"

"it's exciting that i'm in love with someone?" you raise an eyebrow, and though you expect renjun to respond, chenle quickly does.

"yep! you'll finally be gone!"

his cheer results in a gasp of offense from you, and all chenle does is giggle in victory.

THE ONE THING YOU'VE LEARNED FROM THE now excessive amounts of times you've hung around guanheng's other friends is that they're loud, they are all really loud (even sicheng! who, for a good majority of the time, is always quietly staring at his friends with clear concern in his eyes), even if they don't mean to, they're somehow always either yelling, shouting, or making some sort of scene. they're all just naturally hilarious, like comedians that don't realize they're comedians because they're just being themselves. in the past few weeks, it's like you spend more time with these people that don't go to your school in comparison to people that actually go to your school and that you can see easily.

but if you're being honest, you don't really mind that your spending all your free time with them, because they are indeed very fun to be around (and you get to see dejun much more regularly, which is something you rather enjoy), and because life would be insanely boring if guanheng didn't decide to drag you out of the dorm every other day to go do stupid things with his friends that go to a whole other school.

"you are such a cheater! i won fair and square!"

"you did not! your the cheater! sicheng is my witness!"

sicheng, who was not listening to anything either ten or yangyang had to say, looked over at the younger with a look of concern washed over his features. he blinks as he's suddenly put on the spot, smiling nervously as the youngest stares intensely at him, waiting for his answer. "uh.. i— i don't know".

his delivery makes you burst out laughing, and you cover your mouth with your hand as to not make yourself look like an absolute fool. you don't even realize that you picked up on one of dejun's habits, you might be spending too much time around him..

actually, forget that! there is no such thing as spending too much time around dejun, and that might make you sound like a "simp" but you don't care.

you've fallen, and you've fallen hard.

"okay.." guanheng presses his lips into a thin line, ignoring the way ten and yangyang now begin discussing the logistics of cheating in card games, unfortunately dragging poor sicheng into their argument. he turns to dejun and scoots closer to him. "can you do me a favor?"

dejun groans, playfully rolling his eyes. you assume he's done as much favors for guanheng as you have, and you barely stifle the snicker that dares to escape your lips.

dejun hears the sound, and smacks your arm hard, making you jump. he only gives you a teasing smile before turning to guanheng, having to give him a response.

"at what lengths do i have to go for this favor?"

guanheng scoffs, crossing his arms. "it's nothing insane or anything, i just want you to get me something.."

"and you can't get it yourself because..?"

"i have no money on me" and there goes that signature guanheng frown, dejun opens his mouth to argue but then he shuts it so quickly it seems like he just got out in some sort of trance.

"fine fine" dejun rolls his eyes once again, surrendering much too quickly. "you owe me though—"

"take y/n with you".

there's a pause, both you and dejun go very silent for a moment. whilst dejun is just confused, you absolutely know what guanheng is doing, and you have to use every bit of patience in your body to restrain yourself instead of jumping over the table and tackling him right then and there.

dejun is clearly clueless, though, because he just raises an eyebrow. "why?" he inquires, somehow sounding so sweet even though his question is asked with so much confusion.

"y/n knows what i want".

what a smooth lie, dejun glances over at you, and you just shrug, having no idea what more to say. "he needs to take a walk anyway" guanheng lies again, wow, two in a row! he's on a roll.

"okay..?"

so that's how you find yourself on a walk with the person that you are very much in love with, a somehow comfortable silence spread between the two of you as dejun hums an unfamiliar tune to himself, hands in his pockets, eyes closed as he slowly sways back and forth.

he looks very peaceful, just doing what he does, being effortlessly pretty as he does so, and you observe his behavior, almost entranced by it in a sense.

you only stop when he speaks up—

"do you think they're still arguing?" he suddenly asks, and you snap out of whatever daze you were having, praying that he totally didn't notice you admiring him like a creep. "or are they just.. conversing calmly now?"

you don't want to seem like even much more of a weirdo, but you feel like he asked that question just as an excuse to talk to you, and maybe your thinking too much into it, but you've definitely done that before, so you know what it looks like.

"i hope they aren't still arguing" you answer, and dejun looks up at you, smiling. "that'd be a long ass time to argue".

"well they like arguing just to argue" dejun replies, fiddling with his necklace. "but they're harmless.. for the most part".

his delivery makes you laugh, and you look down at your shoes. "you're a very calm person, you know, the opposite of guanheng".

the sudden statement from dejun makes you look up at him once again, and this time, he's staring directly at you, as if he had been waiting to make eye contact with you the whole time. "calm?"

"well compared to my roommates you are" he giggles, and maybe he doesn't mean to, but he stares at so intensely that your legs feel shaky.

"who knows? maybe i'm a fraud" you tease, purposefully leaning closer to him so your words have an effect. dejun's eyes widen, and he lightly leans away from you, looking speechless. "you'd never know, though".

you don't know how you suddenly got so bold, or why you were so amused at the sight of dejun freaking out, you feel like some sort of genius for what you just did, and you snicker at yourself before leaning back.

dejun takes in a deep breath, looking like he's trying to fix himself. he clears his throat and stumbles through his next words. "i— uh.. you're such an idiot!" he decides to say, crossing his arms over his chest.

your not sure how the two of you became so casual in this amount of time, a few weeks ago, dejun wasn't such a regular figure in your life, and you were just any other college student doing their best to get by, not thinking about falling in love with a gorgeous oreo–haired man—

but you're also not complaining.

you aren't sure how you got so lucky, how it just happened that you could continue to spend time with the cute boy you met at a stupid football game simply because the two of you shared mutual friends, it's one of times guanheng's actually done you a favor, without even realizing it too!

"okay i'm sorry" you giggle, shoving your hands into your pockets, you once again begin taking from dejun's habits and sway back and forth. "seriously!"

"you're unbelievable" dejun exaggerates, rolling his eyes, but it wasn't serious, and you knew it wasn't serious. "but i meant what i said, your calm".

you raise an eyebrow at him, wanting to know more about the observations he has about you. "could you elaborate on that?" you don't mean to laugh, but you do, and it causes dejun to laugh too.

"you just.. seem content with what you have" he explains, but he doesn't explain it enough, so he continues. "like someone could get you a piece of paper as a birthday gift and you'd be pleased".

you laugh, hard, because he somehow managed to get you spot on. you almost feel like he is reading your mind, because he nailed you down with each word. "really? i guess i am like that".

"ah, so my prediction was right then!"

you laugh at how glad he is. "yeah, i am truly not that hard to please, gifts are gifts and if someone gets one for me, there's no use in being mad if the gift isn't something i like, at least they remembered to get me something!"

dejun stares at you for a specifically long time, looking you up and down. he stares at you with warm eyes, a gaze that seems so near and dear to his heart, a gaze so loving that it looked like he was about to get down on one knee and propose to you.

"i like any and all gifts" you continue.

"are there any specific kinds of gifts you like?"

dejun asks that question in a tone that makes it seem like he's totally not trying to sound suspicious, but he is totally asking you that question for a very specific reason.

guanheng must've told him something..

at least, that's what you assume, but dejun is patiently waiting for your answer, and you can't daydream the whole time about the true meaning of his words.

"i like books, plushies, music tapes, vinyl's, you know.. regular gifts that people like receiving".

dejun hums, as if he's noting down the information you're telling him in his mind, still, you don't say anything about his mannerisms, just keep it to yourself.

"are you noting down my reply?"

"i'm just keeping it in mind!" he says, smiling brightly at you. "just in case your special occasion comes up and i don't know what to get you".

oh! so guanheng definitely did tell him something..

"i mean— were friends! any gift from you will be a good gift".

at the word friends, dejun seems to pause, cogs in his brains turning as he tries to process your words. you don't understand why he would be trying to understand your words, because the two of you were clearly friends, did he think you two were something else?

you see the flash of disappointment on his face, but it quickly reverts back to a smile and he simply acts like nothing happened. "sorry, the word 'friends' just caught me off guard".

a lie..

how interesting.

"seriously though, i just want to get you a gift you'll appreciate forever".

but you're already enough for me— do you know how much you've changed my life?

your own thoughts manage to surprise you, because the words that you just told yourself in your own mind startle you enough that you make a judging face at yourself. luckily, dejun is turned away from you, so he doesn't notice.

"well that's thoughtful of you".

"i try my best.." he responds, finally looking back at you with that same loving stare, one that wants to lure you in and make you trip on your own feet.

for some reason, the two of you stop. there's an uncharacteristically long pause, like the world just decided to cease for a moment, and you both are completely stuck in place, just there, staring at each other.

dejun's eyes move, as if scanning your face like a camera, and they (of course) stop at your lips. he stares at them for what seems like forever, and it almost looks like he's restraining himself, but by the way he bites his bottom lip, it's clear—

he wants to kiss you.

and maybe there's a small voice at the back of his head that tells him to cut it out, because he almost immediately snaps out of whatever daze he was having, and clears his throat, his cheeks going a bright red.

"uh— sorry, yeah, um, we should get going" he says, shaking his head as he pulls his sleeves down.

"guanheng will yell at us if we're late".

okay, so he just decides to not talk about it? you want to ask him why he didn't just do it, because he clearly wanted to, but before you can even open your mouth, or get any words out, he grabs your hand and the two of you continue walking back to the group.

he doesn't say anything more, doesn't try to make anymore small talk, and while you do want to bring up what just happened there, you don't.

you just bask in the feeling of dejun's hands intertwined with your own.

it's a good feeling, you decide.

THAT MOMENT IS STUCK ON YOUR MIND for what seems like years. you can't get over it! how he was looking at you, how he clearly wanted to kiss you, but for some reason, decided to stop himself from doing so. you're not sure why you didn't just tell him that it was okay, that you would be completely fine with him kissing you, but you guess that you're just a complete idiot as well, because you just stayed silent throughout the whole thing, the two of you equally deciding in silence to not bring it up, just sitting next to each other in awkwardly for the rest of the night.

and yeah, it's become normal for dejun to constantly run through your mind these days, it's like he has his own subsection in your mind, dedicated to thoughts about him and him only, but it's like he's just become rampant in there ever since that.. thing he did (or should you say, didn't do, considering he decided to not kiss you when the opportunity was right there), maybe you should've pulled him in, maybe you should've (for once) been impulsive and done the first thing put to your mind.

and this crawls through your mind for days, then those days become a good week and a half. now— you and dejun aren't not talking or anything, it was just sort of difficult to look at him without thinking about that.

you're so into your thoughts these days, that you are much more spacey during your classes, at home, and somehow, guanheng picks up on your weird turn, which is crazy, because guanheng was the last person you expected to notice something like that, he usually never notices most things in front of him anyway.

"okay, what the fuck happened?" he decides to randomly drop it on you when he seems to have had enough, which is funny, because he's technically the person that started the whole thing.

you look up from your phone, blinking at him like he just said something out of this world. "hm?" he scoffs at your lack of a response, shoving your shoulder, which results in a glare from you.

"what happened?" he asks again, this time without the extra swear word, he makes himself comfortable on the other side of the couch. "you are acting weird" he points at you accusingly, like you'd just been accused of a crime and he was trying to figure out if you were truly suspicious.

"i don't know what your talking about.."

"stop stalling!" he complains, grabbing your arm and beginning to shake you back and forth. "tell me! you can't keep acting weird and just not tell me what's wrong".

now you want to tell him, but in your mind it sounds so stupid that you feel like guanheng would laugh at you the moment you uttered the first few words of your sentence. "you're going to laugh".

guanheng gasps, offended by your response, though it is true, he just wants to be dramatic. "i won't! i'm concerned! i'm being a good roommate and asking you what's wrong!"

so, you roll your eyes, taking a deep breath. "okay so hypothetically.." you begin, because you have no other idea how to start your sentence.

hypothetically just means = it was indeed not hypothetical!

"hypothetically, uh huh.." guanheng hums, understanding the true meaning your words have. "okay sorry, continue".

"let's just say that, hypothetically, i am totally in love with one of your best friends, and that friend totally wanted to kiss me but then chickened out last minute and like an idiot i didn't say anything and i have no idea how to go about it".

guanheng's eyes widen at your words, and his jaw almost drops. "hypothetically though" you add to the end of your sentence after a long pause.

"right right! hypothetically.." he nods, though he can't contain his look of excitement at the words. "and you didn't kiss him back!?"

you're almost knocked off the chair from how intense his yell is. you groan and cover your face with your hands, embarrassed and ashamed. "i didn't know how to bring it up and not be awkward!"

"just say 'hey dejun you could totally kiss me and it'd be fine because we are both mortifyingly in love with each other'!" guanheng shouts, louder than his previous words. he's always so straight up, and you almost wish you didn't tell him anything. "it's that easy!"

"it is not!" you shout in rebuttal, crossing your arms and frowning. your acting like guanheng at this point, but that's not what you're noticing at this very moment. "it's easy for you! you date people and you kiss people all the time! i don't do that!"

"excuses excuses!"

you're at a loss for words at his lackluster words, you once again, frown and turn away from him. "i'm sorry! i have never been hardcore in love with someone like this before! i don't know how to talk about it!"

guanheng looks like he's about to yell again, but he takes a deep breath and relaxes himself, leaning back in the couch. "okay, i'm sorry for yelling.."

"y/n, you really just need to tell him how you feel straight up, because if you keep stalling than none of you will end up confessing in the end and you'll both just be going through a loop of 'should we or should we not?'"

you blink, staring at guanheng for a good few minutes, honestly surprised. this is probably the best advice he's ever given you, usually, you’re the one that has to give him advice because he always ends up doing something stupid and has someone that wants to murder him because of that stupid thing he did.

"that was actually.. good advice" you reply, laughing at guanheng's eye roll. he just shoves you, making sure he does extra hard this time to get his point across.

"shut up! i always give good advice!"

"you usually don't give any advice at all.." you mutter, running a hand through your hair as you look away from your roommate, who just glares at you like you just committed a federal offense.

"say something again and i'm gatekeeping dejun from you!"

"your what!?"

at the sound of your shout, guanheng giggles as he scurries away, proud of himself for the words that escape his lips.

YOU'RE NOT SURE HOW YOU SOMEHOW LET guanheng drag you off to a party on a friday night where all you wanted to do is relax. parties have never truly been your thing, but that's because being surrounded by a bunch of drunk and high adults just isn't your idea of fun, you're also just not a big drinker, so the only reason you usually even end up at parties is to take guanheng home when he gets too drunk and can't fully articulate his thoughts. so, the fact that guanheng was somehow able to convince you to get out of the house and go to a party when you truly should've been at home, watching horrible sitcoms.

but no, you're here! and you can't leave without guanheng because if you did, he'd probably find a way to end up killing himself, or he'd say the wrong thing to the wrong person and would end up getting punched in the face.

so you find yourself in a familiar spot, your back against a wall as you stare at your phone, somehow able to ignore the hundreds of screaming drunk people that surround you, it's become a skill of yours, and you're not sure how exactly it developed, you've just become such a natural when it comes to ignoring others.

guanheng, of course, has already walked off to do his own thing, but not before reminding you of the advice he'd given you a few days prior, yelling at you to 'just tell the boy you like him!'

maybe his advice is burned into your brain, because now all you wish is that you were with dejun, talking about something stupid, or just talking.

and there must've been somebody listening in on your thoughts, because he suddenly walks around the corner, head whipping around like he's searching for someone.

your not trying to look at him, but he catches your gaze immediately, and he skips towards you like a kid in a candy store.

"hi" he greets, a little giggle to his words. his face is a shade of bright red as he giggles once again, though nothing's funny. "pretty".

he whispers the last word, with the intention of you not hearing it, but his mind must be too clouded for him to realize that he said it much louder than he thought he did, but you don't say anything, just hum.

"hello" you greet back, and he laughs once again, covering his hand with his mouth. "are you okay?"

a loud snicker leaves his lips, and he moves closer to you to link his arm with yours. he rests his head onto your arm, a content smile spreading across his face. "i'm drunk".

his honest answer makes you question his state for a moment, since when do drunk people admit that they're drunk? or maybe he's only just tipsy.. your not sure, but he's not acting like a totally sober person right now.

"are you sure?" you raise an eyebrow, dejun just responds with a small 'hmph', and he keeps your arm linked with his. "dejun".

"yes! i am!" he yells as rebuttal, shaking your arm a few times. "do you wanna smell my breath?"

"oh no no no" you reply, covering his mouth with your hand. he laughs at you, his cheeks as pink as yangyang's hair, he grabs your hands, and whilst yours are cold, his are burning hot. "okay you have energy".

"i'm sorry" he suddenly blurts, another snort escaping his lips as he leans his head against your chest. you give him a look, confused as to why he felt the need to apologize.

"for what?"

"for doing that thing" dejun responds, closing his eyes as he sways back and forth. "i probably made everything awkward, i didn't mean to".

that's what he thinks? he thinks that he made everything awkward? you feel your heart break at the realization, but all dejun does is laugh sadly.

"you didn't— you didn't make everything awkward, it's okay".

dejun laughs again, clearing his throat. "just tell the truth, y/n.."

you chuckle, not at dejun, just at his words. he wants you to tell the truth? fine.. you will!

"dejun" you begin, using your pointer finger to tilt his chin up so the two of you make eye contact, you watch as his eyes widen, but he doesn't move, just lets you do your thing. "you can kiss me, it's okay".

he blinks, as if trying to figure out if you were lying or not. he opens his mouth, but no words come out, so he closes it again. "it is?" he asks again, just wanting reassurance, you hear his voice crack, but he's getting impatient, he wants your answer.

"yeah it's fine".

that's all the conformation dejun seems to need, because he finally presses his lips to yours after what seems like years of waiting. your arms naturally rest on his waist, and there's just something, something about this that makes you smile.

there's an urgency in the way he kisses you, and his hand comes up to hold your face. he is just so desperate, and it would be a lie to say that you weren't just as desperate as he is. you'd been wanting this for so long, you don't even know how many times you thought about what it would be like to kiss dejun.

his fingers caress your cheek, and the contact feels like your skin was set ablaze. maybe this is what you needed, and you assume it's exactly what dejun needed to, because he pushes on your shoulder with a seemingly inhumane amount of force, which makes you gasp a little.

while your one arm is around his waist, the other one goes up to run your fingers through his hair, somehow causing the two of you to both smile, barely stifling your laughs.

after what seems like forever, dejun pulls away, and while you're standing there, breathless, he just smiles, relaxing as you play with his hair. "you like my hair?"

you aren't sure why out of all things, that's what he decides to ask, but you laugh, completely enamored by the boy in front of you. "yep, it's soft" you reply, biting your inner cheek. "the color suits you".

dejun tilts his head, looking up at you with his insanely pretty eyes. you just want to squish his cheeks, or wrap him in a blanket and hold him forever, you aren't sure why you just have this surge of loving emotions for absolutely no reason, maybe it's the way he's staring at you, or that he just left you breathless and did it so flawlessly.

he hums, not knowing how to respond to your compliment. he just suddenly gets shy, his ears turning red at your words.

"you're so stupid.."

that's probably his favorite phrase to say to you by now, but you don't mind, you just smile as he hides his face away from you. 

"dejun" you call out despite him being right in front of you, and he looks up at you again, gaze warm as he gives you a small smile.

"yes?"

"i love you" you immediately spout, not even surprised by how high your voice has gotten. "like— in the i'm in love with you kinda way and not in a i just want you to kiss you but not call you my boyfriend kinda way".

dejun pauses, snickering at your words, he looks at you like you're the only person in the world.

what other way could there possibly be?

but you don't get any response, at least, not from him, because all he does is lean forward and press his lips to yours.

YOU'VE NEVER REALLY BEEN A FAN OF YOUR BIRTHDAY, and you aren't sure why. it used to be a fun thing up until you turned twelve and it suddenly felt like a switch had flipped, as if your birthday was making you miserable. now it's not like you always feel depressed on your birthday, it's just that sometimes you don't want to have a huge birthday celebration. most of the time— you only request for huge birthday bashes on specific days, like when you turned ten (you were very excited about becoming a double–figured age), or when you turned eighteen (you became an adult, not that exciting but it was definitely something, you could finally legally drink), but it's truly only specific days that you don't mind having large, people–filled birthday parties.

and not only were you not exactly anticipating your birthday, you already had something even bigger on your mind the whole time.

like dejun ghosting you! that's definitely one!

okay so you tell the guy you love him, you make out with him at a party (in the opposite order but oh well), he doesn't give you a response and then he decides to just ignore you?

maybe he just didn't know what to say, and that also lead to him just not picking up his phone for a good two weeks as he completely ignored your calls and texts and voicemails!

and with this being the only thing on your mind, your birthday seemed to be the least important event at the moment.

you didn't really want to think about it, and the campus was starting to make you feel sick, so this year you planned on visiting your parents after the day was over, considering your special day fell on a friday—

but guanheng, guanheng had other plans.

he practically begged you to let him throw the party for you, he wanted to do it so bad that he vowed to never ask you for a favor ever again (which is a lie! he never keeps his promises!), he was acting so desperate, it was like you'd just saved his life or something.

you're not sure what made guanheng so eager to throw a party for you, especially because you just didn't know what you would do with a bunch of people in your dorm.

but he insisted, he would throw you the best party in the world.

and after what seemed like forever, you two finally agreed on something—

you go visit your parents friday evening, and guanheng throws your party on saturday, easy!

"what do you mean strawberry isn't a good flavor!?"

you scoff at his question, nodding your head, as if confirming your words. "i don't like strawberry flavored things, you get me a strawberry cake and i'm making you sleep outside".

your threat results in a gasp from your roommate, who looks genuinely hurt by your words as he places a hand on his chest, horrified. "you are such a horrible roommate! threatening me when i'm throwing a party for you".

"it'll be a horrible party if you get me a horribly flavored cake".

you totally mean what you say as well— you truly dislike strawberry cake.

and when guanheng said party, you didn't exactly anticipate how many people he would decide to let into your dorm.

now you know a good chunk of these people, but most of these people probably decided to come just because they knew guanheng, all they did was utter some happy birthday's and then they ran off to do their own thing.

guanheng got most things right, he just invited a bunch of people that really didn't care for your birthday, just wanted to be around him.

so it's no surprise that you felt just a little disappointed about the people at your party that just didn't give two shits about your actual birthday.

and guanheng was off doing something else, though you could actually see him this time, he was telling people where to put the gifts they brought for you.

your beginning to feel suffocated in your own dorm, which is ironic to you, because this is quite literally the place you go to get away from a bunch of people, it's the only place of yours that isn't full of people.

so, you clear your throat, and push through people to get to the door, not wanting to stay inside with all these people, you'll probably end up throwing up everywhere if you stay inside even longer.

when you exit the dorm, you take a deep breath the moment you close the door, letting your back fall against it. you immediately jump as you see a person behind the door—

okay so dejun (who you confessed your love to by the way!), is pacing back and forth in front of your door, totally stressing. you blink, a look of confusion spreading across your face. "um.."

"are you okay?"

you aren't even sure why you opened your mouth, but if you didn't, this would just go on for a good twenty more minutes.

dejun jumps, clearing his throat as he smiles awkwardly. "you— scared the shit out of me".

he's acting so casually? after not talking to you for a good two weeks!?

"sorry—"

"i'm sorry!"

dejun immediately yells, covering his face with his hands. "i'm so sorry for not texting you! or calling you! or giving you a response! it was so stupid of me to not consider your feelings and instead of just telling you straight up how i felt i decided to ignore you but i was scared that i wouldn't be able to tell you without making it awkward and it—"

"dejun" you place your hands on his shoulders, turning him around to face you. "your rambling".

he sighs, eyes darting away from your face, he frowns. "but it's not okay, i didn't talk to you, i probably came off as such an asshole! you were probably so confused, and i just.. said nothing!"

you observe his features, and he looks even more anxious at your silence. his face goes red, and his leg begins bouncing up and down, whilst his hands look for something to hold.

"okay, calm down.." you mutter, reaching for his left hand and lacing it together with yours. "it's okay, there's no need to be worried".

"i'm sorry" he says again, finally looking up at you. "i get it if you don't forgive me—"

"dejun" you cut into his sentence, squeezing his left hand. "i forgive you.. i love you".

you repeat your confession once more, and dejun blinks, processing your words.

"i love you too".

and finally, after what seems like forever, after what was so long, he gave you a response.

before you could say anything more, dejun pulls you in for a hug, his arms circling around your waist. you're a bit taken aback by the sudden display of affection, but you also don't mind, because he squeezes you tighter.

"happy birthday" he mumbles, a small smile coming to his face as he feels your hand comb through his hair. "i'm sorry".

"stop apologizing" you say, lifting his chin up so you could look him in the eyes. "i forgive you, it's okay".

and it is, you're being completely honest, but dejun doesn't say more, immediately pulling you back into a warm hug

but suddenly, the door to your dorm swings open and guanheng peaks his head out, eyes widening as he witnesses the current thing. he has absolutely no context to anything which was happening at the moment, he just opened the door to witness a totally unaware dejun hugging you.

"uh.." he blinks, glancing between you two, but not asking anything, just clearing his throat. "it's time to cut the cake?" he laughs awkwardly, and you just smile, giving him a i'll be right there look.

"o...kay" he doesn't say anything more, just goes back inside and closes the door.

dejun giggles as guanheng closes the door, pulling away again to look up at you. "oh he is totally tired of us".

"we didn't do anything, though".

dejun snickers, lightly hitting your arm. "okay okay, you need to stop, it's your birthday, you have to go cut your cake".

"and.." he pauses, pulling a box out of nowhere and handing it over to you. "open your gifts".

you raise an eyebrow, confused. "where were you even hiding that?"

"that's irrelevant! it's your birthday, come on!"

and you let him drag you back into your dorm, smiling at him the whole time.

YOU ALMOST CONSIDER THE WAY YOU are acting to be absurd, and it's funny how much of another side dejun can just bring out of you. now you would never consider yourself to be a grumpy person, but people usually do describe you as having a 'natural frown'. you never really thought of yourself as being like that, but you guess that people don't see you look so happy much, because they continue to point out how it's like some glitch in the matrix to see you just a little less miserable as each day passes. chenle especially makes comments, talking about how you need to "put your smile away" because not seeing your resting face constantly freaks him out, renjun on the other hand, is elated, or maybe he's just glad he can finally be rid of you, you don't know.

but all that put aside, you are happy, and you have a cute oreo–haired man to thank for that.

and maybe this is all you really need, just dejun, the two of you don't even have to do anything, he can just lay his head down onto your shoulder and you'd be having a good time.

you like it when he sits down and paints your nails for you, or when he watches you bake over your shoulder, not knowing what to do but happy to watch you do your thing, or when he coerces you to win prizes from carnival games for him with his absolutely adorable eyes (he doesn't even need to try to coerce you, you'd do it either way).

"i'm pretty sure this is illegal".

"it's not!" you reply, though you mean to reassure dejun, your words seem to worry him more than anything. you take his hand, squeezing it. "dejun, i'm not getting you into any illegal activity".

"i can never tell with you" he retorts suspiciously, keeping your hand in his as you lead him up, he would have tripped if not for you holding your hand and guiding you up.

you clear your throat, patting the spot beside you as dejun immediately sits, so close to you that your legs are touching. "if i ever wanted to do something illegal, i'd know better than to bring you along".

he gasps, and you can't resist the urge to laugh at how offended he sounds. "what is that supposed to mean!?"

"you" your pointer finger touches his nose, and he doesn't even try to move. "are a snitch, you would be horrible to commit a crime with".

dejun slaps your hand away, and you laugh at the way he crosses his arms, a familiar pout gracing his absolutely beautiful features. "you— i.. take that back!"

"it's true! even yangyang would be a better option than you!"

dejun is even more offended by the words, and he slowly scoots away from you, arms still crossed as he pouts. you giggle as he remains scooted away from you, still angry about the words you said.

"uh— jun, i was just joking!"

"you suck".

dejun glares, but his glare is anything but serious, as you can see the way he slowly starts to break under your gaze, resisting the urge to burst into laughter. "i hate you".

"you love me".

he does, and he can't pretend he doesn't, because he almost immediately snickers, looking away from you as to not laugh more.

oh he is just so adorable.

you scoot closer to him and wrap your arms around his waist, making him yelp. "you're so cute" you mutter into his shoulder, and at this point, dejun doesn't even try to pretend anymore.

"you're so corny" he says, patting your arms that currently circle around his waist. you lean your head down onto his shoulder, making yourself comfortable, and he just lets you, because at this point he can't really push you off him.

"don't fall asleep, i'm not going to carry you back to your place".

"you would be too weak to carry me anyway— ow!"

you yell loudly as dejun nudges you in the stomach with his elbow, and while he looks absolutely proud of himself, you just glare, absolutely done with him.

but you don't say anything, just lets your fingers run through his hair, probably your favorite thing to do with him. he just cups your face, and he just smiles at your face, giggling. "your just as cute as when we first met".

the statement makes you snicker, because you did not expect for him to say that out of all things he could've said. you get why he says it though, because you are at the place where it all began, the bleachers, the same bleachers where you two were standing when you shared your first interaction.

you tilt your head, wanting to tease him more. "so there were moments where i wasn't cute, then?"

dejun scoffs, turning away from you. he lightly pinches your arm, and you yelp once again, inching away from him. "why do you enjoy hurting me?"

he smiles innocently. "i don't, i have absolutely no idea what you're talking about!"

your face drops, and all dejun does is laugh, squeezing your cheeks. "don't be mad, babe, you know i love you".

and you do, you do know, he never fails to remind you of how much he does.

"i love you too.."

with your eye rolls, and tiny mutters, dejun knows, he knows that you're telling the truth.

[ssatorussuguru]

ofc!! and yes i can tell-- DC is so horrible to steph (and its female characters in general) but you genuinely write her with such care

thank you so much for the list and if it really isn' a bother, i would def appreciate one for tim as well 😊

first off i am so sorry for the delay, my school year just ended so things have been hectic!! to make up for it i added a ton of fics here i hope u enjoy <3

previous lists here! steph dick pt. 1 dick pt. 2 tim+dick

a nest torn empty \ yesteryears \ robin's don't make great roommates - all helena and tim centric!! i am a sucker for these two being siblings

not within this restless heart - Tim's sleeping schedule leaves things to be desired. Sometimes, Damian's does too. Miraculously, this doesn't cause nearly as many issues as one would think.

off-grid - In which Tim and Damian go on an impromptu camping trip.

and in that moment - Time keeps slipping away from Tim like sand. All he has are flashes of events that he can barley grab on to. Even worse his family is acting strange and he can't keep it together long enough to ask them what's going on.

the return - Red Robin 11 and 12, from Dick’s POV. Tim comes home.

a leap of faith - "Oh. Right. He’d been pushed off the building."

such trouble - "Tim’s vitals are displayed in heartbreaking clarity on the screen. They aren’t horrible, Tim thinks. “Goddamn it,” Dick mumbles."

miles and miles (in their shoes) - Tim and Damian switch bodies, the two of them realize exactly why the other does the things they do.

the fire eats fire (and the fire's in you) - Tim just happens to be a very large, fire-breathing lizard. He manages, until he doesn't.

books and pens - After the flood, there are galas. And Bruce befriends a two-year-old Tim Drake at one of them.

experimentation - Tim watches his mom get ready to go out, then takes his own turn at it.

you long for a feeling you'll never get back - In a family made of up people unused to having such a big family, sometimes you get lost in the noise. And Tim has always been taught to be the child that was seen, not heard.

way down, hadestown - In which Damian's dead and Tim has lost one too many people to accept that.

between two urns - Christmas Eve may not be the best time for a funeral, but at least Tim won't have to deal with a lot of people. His parents are dead, and he's alone, and his Uber driver didn't show. Mr. Wayne did.

detachment - Bruce just wants all his sons home for the holidays. Tim thinks something more sinister may be at work.

i'd fly far away from here - “Tim, you’re in a strange city you don’t live in, staying with a person your dad barely knows. He’s probably worried sick.”

i can (hopefully) do this all night - Or the one where their patrol night goes to shit and Tim has a really stubborn little brother that apparently wants to die again just because he's stubborn as fuck. Sucks for Damian, though, because Tim is used to doing the exact opposite of what Damian wants just to spite him. Like a good big brother.

home decor - Bruce is helping Duke remodel his bedroom, but Tim's bedroom is one good clean away from looking ready to host a new guest.

[jungmeowz]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈ secret letters to you - OT7

001; Kim Sunoo the Childhood Best Friend

synops: seven boys who have all had a crush on you, and mayhaps one or two of them are still in love with you, and who knows? But at one point all of them liked you, just in different timelines. sum: seven anonymous letters arrived at your mailbox with seven different boys names, but there's ONE secret confession letter that's fresh and newly written. Who wrote the letter?

genre: fluff, angst(?)

pairing: ot7 x reader

inspo: lowkey based on en-drama and to all the boys i've loved before

word count: 3.5k+ (not proof-read)

a/n: im sorry for the delay... i've been super busy and just trying to get my life together (its not going so well so yeah...)

I’ve known Sunoo ever since we were kids, so I guess maybe it can rule out at least one of the letters but still? My childhood best friend liking me? I mean it’s like a typical cliche but still… but it was still a shocker to me. So out of these eight letters, you’re telling me one of them is written by Sunoo, my childhood best friend.

Sunoo and I have been through everything together, we have shared and created so many memories together, from our first time trying ice cream to our first time underestimating high school. He’s seen me at my worst and at my best, but I've also seen him at his worst and best. We’ve seen each other's weaknesses and strongest perks, but after all that’s what makes us best friends. But I’ve never once thought of him that way, and I’ve never exactly developed romantic feelings for him either. So now that I’m aware of his feelings, I essentially feel bad for never being able to return his feelings, or ever consider those romantic feelings.

“So Kim Sunoo… isn’t he like your childhood best friend?” Aerai questioned. “You know, it’s no surprise if he liked you, I mean it's a typical cliche,” my brother noted. “Yeah perhaps, but the real question is, does he still like me?” I wondered. “I mean if he did, how would you feel about it?” Aerai asked. “Well, I don’t know. I mean I’ve never looked at him that way, nor have I ever developed romantic feelings for him, but even thinking about him like that, it’s a bit weird to me,” I answered.

After answering Aerai’s question, I started to think more about Sunoo and how things would change if we did date, or if I developed romantic feelings for him, and well after briefly thinking about the situation, it still seemed weird to me, and I don’t know how I would feel about the transition of a best friend to a boyfriend, but maybe I’m also scared of jeopardizing our friendship if we ever did cross that line. But he wasn’t the only one that liked me, so either way things would still be complicated as ever. 

“Yeah, I don’t think you don’t like him, because if you’re saying it’s weird and you’ve never thought about it, there’s probably no feelings,” Aerai said. “Okay, well let’s try to figure out which letter he wrote,” I said. “And if we do, how will we confirm it’s him?” Aerai asked. “Well, there’s only one way and that’s asking him, or maybe trying to make moves on him and see,” my brother answered. “First off, no. I’m not gonna make moves on my best friend because that’s weird, and what if he doesn’t even like me anymore… Majority of these confessions seem like past tense and they’re dated kinda far back,” I replied.

After finishing replying to my brother's comment, I looked at him and he shrugged in his defense and put his hands up as a surrender not wanting to add fuel to the fire. “It’s a suggestion, you didn’t need to take it personally,” my brother said. “Well okay, let’s take a look at the letters,” Aerai said. “Well maybe it could be May 23rd 2021, it mentions the word “kids” so maybe it could be Sunoo?” I questioned. “Well what about the one that's dated in 2020? I feel like maybe the older the year is, maybe it could be him?” Aerai replied. “You make a fair point, and I thought about it, but that letter says ‘sidelines’, so I’m wondering if maybe that one could be Heeseung? I mean like, I’m always cheering for Heeseung on the sidelines when he’s playing basketball? So that could be it?” I wondered. “But that doesn’t make any sense, didn’t you meet Heeseung in like 2022” Aerai asked. “Shit you’re right, that’s also roughly the time I met the other guys as well,” I replied. 

Honestly there were so many things I needed to consider about these letters, but my brain had no capacity to understand and comprehend these letters as these dates were throwing me off. It didn’t help that my memory isn’t the best either. I felt like every time I kept reading these letters I ended up being more confused and lost. 

“Well, I definitely don’t think it’s one of the most recent dated letters…“ Aerai trailed off. “Yeah, I agree. I don’t think the recently dated letters would be Sunoo’s,” I replied. “Okay, so then let's just assume it’s either the oldest dated letter, or the letter that mentions ‘kids’,” Aerai said. “Well one of them says they would rather stay friends, and then the other one is expecting me to feel the same way,” I said. 

After making that comment, the thought didn’t occur to me that maybe potentially one of the boys could still like me, and I would need to face that later on. It doesn’t help that I’m no good at responding to people's feelings either. “Wait, do you by any chance like someone at the moment?” My brother asked. My face turned red when the thought of Heeseung appeared in my mind, and then I immediately brushed it off. “No, it’s not like that really,” I quietly said. “You’re lying, you’re just like me! Your ears get red when you get embarrassed or shy,” My brother laughed. “Wait, you’re telling me this whole time you liked someone and you didn’t even tell me?” Aerai frowned. “It’s not that big of a deal, don’t worry about it,” I replied. “Well then, if it’s not a big deal then tell me who it is,” Aerai smirked as she crossed her arms. “It’s Hee..Heeseung,” I stuttered. “I knew it! You’re always going to his basketball games, I thought it was because of Jongseong or Riki, but no, it’s because of Heeseung,” Aerai smiled. “Shut up,” I blushed. “Poor Yunnie, you always dragged him to these basketball games even though he would much rather stay at home and build legos” Aerai snickered. “What? He was always eager to come with me though,” I said. “Yeah, and it’s probably because he gets to spend more time with you,” My brother snickered. 

My best friend and brother weren’t wrong, but the thought never occurred to me that Jaeyun would want to only come just to spend time with me. I sincerely thought he wanted to go these games because he wanted too and support his friends, but after receiving the confession letters and coming to the conclusion all of them liked me at one point, it would make sense why Jaeyun would come with me to these basketball games and give up some nights to build legos just to accompany me on the bleachers to support the team. 

“That’s not the point, we’re here to identify which letter Sunoo wrote!” I exclaimed. “Well we have a movie night hangout tonight at Sunoo’s. Maybe you should head over there early and talk to him privately,” Aerai suggested. I groaned and put my hands on my cheek in distress, “Ugh, what am I suppose to say? Uhm hey which letter did you write?”I panicked. “You can, or you can snoop around his room and try to find something. The letters seemed typed out, so obviously there’s probably a written letter or diary!” Aerai said. “So invasion of privacy…” I whispered. “Okay, let’s not do that. If I was a guy, I wouldn't like it if my crush was snooping around my room to find my confession letter. Just be bold and ask him, but don’t expect him to be honest with you,” My brother said. I darted my eyes at my brother and heavily sighed, he looked at me and shrugged. I rolled my eyes at him. “Did anyone ever tell you how unhelpful you are?” I commented. “Yeah.. you’re not really helping your sister right now. Well, I have to head home and get ready for the movie night. You should head over there early and maybe talk to Sunoo about it,” Aerai suggested. “I could… and I know I should. I just don’t know how to bring it up still,” I sighed. 

Aerai got up from the couch and put her hand on my shoulder and then patted it as an attempt to give me reassurance of the whole situation. She gave me a warm smile and then waved off and left the house. I slumped back onto the couch in defeat, frowning at the situation. My brother looked at me and then decided to plop down next to me. “So Heeseung huh,” he said as he nudged my shoulder. “Don’t even, that's the least of my concerns right now. I don’t even care if Heeseung  likes me back, or used to like me. It’s not going to happen,” I replied. “Since when did you even start liking him,” he asked. “Since the day we met, I mean have you looked at him… he’s just so cute, but when he steps onto the court he’s like the coolest guy ever,” I said. “So you’re telling me you’ve only liked Heeseung out of everyone from that group?” he questioned..

For a moment, I sat there wondering if I should confess to my brother about my feelings and thoughts about the boys. Besides Lee Heeseung, there was also another guy I had feelings for, Sim Jaeyun, the next door neighbor. At one point I really did like him, I liked him for quite a while, but I told myself to give up on liking him just because I never thought he would feel the same way. He seemed like the type who wasn’t interested in dating or relationships. He never mentioned having crushes or liking anyone, he always minded his own business focusing on school, and building legos, but to know in the end he did like me, I couldn’t help but think how things would’ve turned out if we knew we both liked each other at one point and maybe confess. 

“Well… I mean Jaeyun… But I don’t anymore. I gave up years ago, it seems like he was never interested in love and such,” I trailed off. “Oh, so you liked the golden retriever boy,” my brother said. “I mean not anymore, he’s cute and adorable when he builds he’s super focused on building his legos, and he’s always been there for me, but there’s no way he feels the same way about me now. I think one of the letters from him is probably the letter that he wishes to just be friends,” I shrugged. “And what if it’s not? What will you do?” he asked. “I don’t know, re-think about it?” I replied. “So just Heeseung and Jaeyun?” he hummed. “I mean liking Sunghoon would be weird, that’s like your best friend, and that would just kinda be a sin in my book and maybe in your book, liking Jongseong is no question asked because that's your roommate, and Jungwon and Riki are like my bro’s. I can’t look at them like that, and well Sunoo.. we’re just best friends and I would like to keep it like that,” I answered. “I mean I don’t mind Sunghoon liking you, it’s his life. I shouldn’t stop him from liking someone and stop him from how he feels, like it or not, emotions are hard to deal with, and forcing someone not to like someone isn’t right either,” he replies. “Well it doesn’t matter. I still think it’s weird. Besides, Sunghoon is such a huge flirt, I could never, we’re like total opposites,” I shrugged. “Hey, you never know, opposites attract sometimes,” he joked. 

I looked at my brother and rolled my eyes at him, I proceeded to get up and drag myself off the couch and walk towards my room and plopped down onto my bed. I pulled out the letters again and decided to re-read them again, and after re-reading them multiple times, I threw the letters aside and screamed into my pillow with frustration. It’s not like I was expecting any of them to like me to be honest, because literally why would anyone like me? I’m a hot mess, but that’s just me. 

After screaming and laying in bed staring off into space looking at my ceiling, I looked at the time and realized it was almost time to head over to Sunoo’s house for movie night. I braced myself and decided it was time to get ready, as I slipped on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, I grabbed the letters and shoved them into my bag and left the house and headed over to Sunoo’s house.  

It didn't take long to head over to Sunoo’s house. I knocked on his door and he opened it and smiled at me and gave me a hug. There was a part of me that felt weirded out hugging him, just because of those confession letters I read, but I tried to brush it off and proceeded to hug him back. As he let me in, he greeted me and told me to head upstairs first as he still needed to finish some things up.

I nodded and headed over into his room, as I walked towards his bed and sat down, I took a look around his room and couldn’t help but let Aerai’s suggestion get to me. Should I look around or is this an invasion of privacy? But at this point curiosity got the better of me and I decided to snoop around his desk looking for papers or anything that could be letter related. 

Eventually after a couple minutes of rummaging, I got distracted and didn’t realize Sunoo had entered his room. I felt my body freeze as I could feel him staring at me, I was caught red-handed. “What are you doing?” Sunoo asked. “Nothing, I just thought your desk needed some cleaning, jeez Sunoo. Keep your desk clean,” I lied. “My desk is clean, what were you doing snooping around?” he asked. “I can explain?” I answered in surrender. “I’m not mad, it just seems unlike you,” he said. 

My hands were shaking, it was nice to know that Sunoo wasn’t mad that I had just lied to him while snooping around his room. My mind went blank and I didn’t know how to respond to him. There were two options, it was either to tell the truth or continue to lie to him, but with barely time to think and the extended awkward silence forming, I shut my eyes and trusted my gut, and blurted out everything from the top of my head. 

“Sunoo, did you ever like me? I got home today. These eight confession letters were handed to me from my brother and they’re all dated differently and I don’t know… One of these letters seemed like it was written from you but then again I don’t know, because I only talk to you and the other boys, so then it makes sense, but then again who would like me I don’t know what I'm saying. I just, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to snoop around I just really wanted to confirm it, and I didn’t know how and I wasn’t going to ask you because I was scared you were going to lie but now that my mind is blank, and I’m out here babbling like a complete mess, I feel like I just messed things up,” I ranted. “Okay, first of all, breathe, and calm down, I’m not mad. Please one thing at a time, because you literally talked so fast that I lost track of what you said,” Sunoo replied. I hesitated for a second, but there was no point going back because if I asked once already, I might as well ask again and repeat myself. “Did you ever write a confession letter to me?” I asked. “...What makes you say that?” he answered. “Because of this,” I replied as I pulled out the letters out of my bag. 

Sunoo took the letters out of my hand and read the letters and his eyes widened as his face and ears turned super red and then he looked at me. “Where did you find this?” he asked. “My brother told me it was mailed to me?” I answered. “Who on earth would mail this to you?” he said. “I don’t know! But that’s not the point right now. Did you or did you not like me, and did you write one of these letters,” I asked. “Okay fine. At one point I did like you, but that was years ago! I don’t like you anymore, and yes I did write a confession letter, but this was suppose to be a secret. It was never meant to be leaked or anything. I don’t know who the hell leaked my letter, but I don’t like you like that anymore. I look at you as my best friend, and I hope you’re not weirded out or have feelings for me because I’m sorry..” he panicked. “Which one did you write…?” I trailed off. “I wrote the October 13th 2020,” he confessed. “I’m sorry I never noticed your feelings Sunoo,” I apologized. “Please don’t be. It was a long time ago, and besides I’m over it and it was for the best anyways. Like the letter said, I'd rather keep this friendship than lose you,” he smiled. “I know but still. I feel like I still hurt you in some way,” I said. “It’s really okay y/n,” Sunoo smiled. 

I was really thankful to know that Sunoo didn’t have feelings for me anymore, because now that was one less thing to worry about. I still felt bad that he did like me years ago, but I’m glad that he’s over it. “It’s a relief you’re over me, because I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t,” I said. “Well that’s a relief then? Glad we’re on the same page,” he said. “So… Do you know by chance who wrote the other letters?” I asked. “It’s true that all of us liked you at one point, and we did keep it a secret, but we never showed each other our confession letters. So I’m not sure which letter belongs to who,” he answered. “And here I thought you could help me,” I frowned. “As much as I want to help, It’s not my job to reveal their feelings. This is something you’re going to have to solve on your own, as much as I love you, I can’t intervene in this because it’s not my feelings. I mean you figured out mine, but you should give the others a chance to speak like you’re doing with me,” he defended. “But I’m scared. There’s someone out there right now who still likes me currently, and I’m scared. What if I don’t like them back? What if it’s someone I hoped it would be, but isn’t?” I sighed. “I know, but whatever happens, it’s meant to happen. Just know that we all care about you,” Sunoo comforted. “Can I get a hint at least?” I asked. “Fine, someone who has the letter N in their name is still in love with you,” he answered. “Kim Sunoo, that is the most useless hint ever. All of their names have N, aside from Riki! But he even goes by Ni-Ki sometimes!” I whined. “Well you eliminated me! You asked for a hint, and I gave you one,” he laughed. “This is why I favor Aerai over you,” I joked. “How dare you, and here I thought I was being nice,” he gasped. “Yeah whatever,” I scoffed. “The utter disrespect,” he laughed.

A part of me was really curious in wanting to ask why Sunoo liked me, I mean it’s obvious that I lacked self-confidence considering the fact I just don’t understand who could like me, but after receiving confession letters, it definitely sparked my curiosity. “Quick question though.. Why did you like me? I mean it says in the letter but still?” I asked. “I mean listen, I liked you because you were always so forward about things, I mean yes, you were a bit strong headed and stubborn, and sometimes annoying and shy but it’s cute and that’s what I liked about you. I think you’re different from the other girls in a way, you’re very unique,” he answered honestly. 

After hearing Sunoo’s answer, I could feel my face turn sour, it was so weird to hear that come out of his mouth. I knew he was being honest with his feelings with me, but I don’t know, for some reason it just didn’t sound right to me. “I kinda just gagged, hearing my best friend talk about me and admiring me. That was kinda disgusting. Why did I even ask?” I joked. “You’re absolutely such a dork,” he rolled his eyes. “Yeah well you liked this dork at one point,” I retorted. “Yeah, not anymore because you’re such a prick,” he laughed. “Insults? Okay keep it coming, we’ll see who gets the last laugh,” I smiled. 

With that conversation out of the way, I felt relieved knowing Sunoo didn’t feel the same way anymore, but there was still an unheavy feeling because there were still seven letters to figure out with basically no clues. Which meant I still had no idea where to start, and Sunoo’s hint didn’t exactly help me either and so I was stuck at a dead end. I guess the next person I could go to is Sim Jaeyun, he’s the second longest person I’ve known, but the thought of confronting him about these letters was a bit scary considering at one point I did like him, but there was no going back after receiving these letters, I had to face it.

002; Sim Jaeyun - The Next Door Neighbor

from me to you; secret letters to you - masterlist

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° ᴇɴʜʏᴘᴇɴ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ ° ᡣ𐭩 . °

[makingspiritualityreal]

Why Saturn Makes you Bad at Doing Things

Saturn in our chart is about things we don't have an instinctive understanding of. These are things we have to work hard (as in tediously, long term) to improve. Over time, we can become meticulous and more decent at this area of our lives, but it takes time for us to get there.

Example, I have Saturn in Aquarius and it took me over 10 years to get the hang of social media, and I'm still learning. Since according to Vedic classics, Saturn is "lame" by nature, these are the areas where we end up with what we feel are initially inadequate results.

What is the reason for such a situation with Saturn?

1. Karmic delay manifesting as lack of financial physical support in your Saturn area. You simply receive the necessary basic tools to be able to accomplish anything worthwhile in this given area with a delay. Example - I have Saturn in Aquarius in the 4th, and I really care about memories and pictures and organising them on socials as a sort of virtual diary. I have been a content creator for 5 years now. I endlessly struggled with inadequate technology, poor quality gear or no gear, and lower quality content as a result. Editing only takes you so far. Tools of the trade are important.

2. Lack of external support and education, delayed access to basic support and education. Noone is going to help you in the area of your Saturn, unless you have excellent synastry with somebody. You need to learn everything by yourself from the ground up, starting from nothing, feeling like you're behind your peers. You don't know yourself in that area, so you don't know what suits you and as a result you have a delayed awareness of what is good for you.

3. Which brings me to my next point, perfectionism. Saturn is what our soul wants to perfect and master, and then release once our legacy is perfected. You will not be satisfied with mediocrity there. I have heard it countless times from people "why do you care about random pictures" well because my Saturn in the 4th wants a perfect photo diary and I want it to be organized and look good. Memories matter to me so I take them very seriously. As a result, we end up being harder on ourselves there than the average person, because we want more, and we want better. If used well, as a result of this attitude, Saturn has the potential to deliver high quality results.

4. Not fitting into trends, first because of the delayed learning process, then because you skipped on major social moments. You just don't know how to be "cool" where your Saturn is placed, because it takes time to build up that ease, and it's always with a lot of practice. As a result, you feel inadequate and lonely in that area, because your difficult experience makes it impossible to connect with your peers, who may mock you over traits of your Saturn. Over time, if Saturn is strong you can become an inspiration and a trendsetter yourself.

5. And finally, and most surprisingly so, lack of interest. The mix of karma and external circumstances and understanding of futility makes us subconsciously reject deeper involvement in the karmas of our Saturn and its Nakshatras. Example, I have Saturn in Dhanishta and I simply refuse to do anything for the sake of popularity, to impress any group, or even join a group for status. I am ready to die alone in my isolated cute house (probably because Saturn in the 4th) just to be myself. Growing up, I denied all social adherence within my family, because I believed they do everything wrong. I also denied all social adherence to the most popular people in school, finding them shallow and disgusting, and throwing their life away while I put my head to my studies and focused on my goals. As a result, my personal journey is unrelatable to most people, because few have the gumption to resist their environments so completely, few are so critical of these environments, few people choose strife, loneliness and lack, because it's the right thing to do. So you can see how our Saturn makes us subversive, denying granting people any expectation in that area and doing everything "their own way".

[toast-on-dandelioms]

For those who cannot see part 2, here is the repost of it!

Years passed and you were now 16, almost mute but with a few friends from school, the only place where no one knew you were a Wayne since you refused to take his surname.

You wanted your mother's surname, you refused to let go of that small part that you still had of her. You refused to let go of that and be replaced by a surname from a person that hated you.

You still had some dignity.

You were happy, you finally had your small place where no one could ruin it and you didn't even care that your supposed family didn't even know who you were.

But everything changed when you went to that damn interview to a scientist lab in a big corporation, you needed money for yourself and knowledge to better your inventions and the corporation you went to was better than any Wayne industry.

You were accepted obviously and after a few months you were on a good position as a part timer and helped with experiments with rats and spiders.

What those experiments were? You didn't know and honestly from what you saw when you were allowed to spectate an experiment in process, the animals almost never died and if they did then they would be honored with a small photo on a wall, to thank them for their help.

You were taking a few subjects to their enclosures and while letting a spider inside its little cage, the little legs of it running down your hand and making you shiver a bit but you did a mistake that all your superiors told uou to never make.

You accidentally moved while trying not to drop another animal that was on the table since it kept moving closer to the edge, scaring the spider and making you get bit by it in the process, the sting of the bite making you almost fall down but not before putting the spider in its cage and closing it.

Then you allowed yourself to fall down and hold the injured hand on the chest as you held back the tears by biting your lips and repeating a mantra you had so that you wouldn't seem weak.

You stayed on the ground for a few minutes, waiting for the sting on your hand to stop hurting so much.

You did notice the spider was a venomous one but that only paralyzed the prey making you scared, not wanting to be found paralyzed and get fired after making a stupid mistake.

You kept on reading the file and thanked whatever god was out there that the venom wasn't strong enough to paralyze a human but just making them a bit dizzy, explaining why you felt so dizzy like you drank five bottles of beer.

You finally got up after the bite stopped stinging and pulsing, making you wobble a bit and check the reports about the spider but it didn't said anything about any experiments made on the animal but you were a bit suspicious about it.

You went to the small lab you shared with a few other interns, starting a few tests on yourself to make sure you wouldn't die or have something horrible happen to your body because of some weird mutation.

You checked every test you ran on yourself, making sure to not have missed anything but it didn't showed any changes so you decided to wait until the new day to see if it was a delayed response from the bite.

You decided to go back to the Manor since it's been days and you couldn't sleep at another friend house again, not wanting to bother them with your 'family' problems.

You managed to get there safely enough by taking the bus, entering silently by the front door and just passing by the kitchen while ignoring the loud noises from the dining hall, knowing that they're probably celebrating something and didn't even try to invite you.

You finally arrive to your room, smiling softly at the plate on your desk filled with food and silently thanking Alfred in your mind since you just realised you didn't eat much that day.

You quickly sit down and eat everything with a big smile, making sure to clean the plate and leaving it on a table next to your door outside of your room to thank Alfred, not wanting to do the trip to the kitchen and risk being seen and seeing all of them look at you with confusion as to why you were there.

Like they didn't even remember that you lived there and were surprised that you were there. You hated whenever they looked at you like that.

You finally plop down in bed, face first and fall asleep in a few seconds, not even bothering to change or take a shower since you were exhausted.

You woke up the next day and as you got up you noticed that something changed in your body.

Not something noticeable like a new set of eyes or a new pair of arms like Stitch from Lilo and Stitch, but you felt more flexible.

Like, you were already pretty good at moving your body thanks to the dance lessons you used to take but now you could move your body in positions you never thought were possible.

Your eyesight was also incredibly better and more enhanced, like you could see from pretty far away without having to squint to see it.

You immediately thought of the spider and its bite so you checked the wound but there was nothing, just two small moles (the small black spots) where the bite was supposed to be.

You quickly went to school, deciding to do a few more tests when you would get to the lab to make sure you didn't have anything dangerous in your body.

The day seemed more slow than usual, making you skip school just after an hour in there and quickly go to the corporation you worked at, using the excuse that school was closed because of a sudden villain attack.

No one even questioned it, they just let you in and went on with their day, not even bothering to check since you were in Gotham so that was normal.

You quickly walked to your lab, immediately starting a few more tests on yourself and sighing in defeat when all the results were the same.

Your blood was mixed with the spider on and you were now half spider. You sighed and worked before clocking in early, slowly going to an abandoned park to check what you now had to just learn to live with it.

You ran a few tests on the field, wanting to see what you now had with the DNA of the spider in your body.

You already checked the sight and flexible factor in a small notebook, adding super strenght, weirdly precise reflexes that also helped you when you were in danger.

You just now needed to see if you could walk on walls like spiders, really hoping you could since you wanted to see how that felt like.

You walked up to a deserted building and took off your shoes and socks before setting one foot on the wall, noticing that you couldn't really take it off.

You tried with the other foot and now you were standing sideways on the wall, making you laugh in glee since it was so freaking cool.

You quickly ran around the building walls before getting to the roof and sitting down on the edge since you were tired.

You thought to yourself to just live with these newfound powers, if you can call them that but then noticed many people walking around and being scared.

You noticed how, even though Batman and everyone else kept the streets clean from super villains, small time thieves and other bad people still ran around even after being caught and brought to jail.

You knew you weren't strong enough before but you now had a small advantage over them and decided to help people, make the streets a bit cleaner.

You would never go and fight big villains but small ones were easy so you quickly went to the manor to start your training, wanting to help others.

You first started by creating the costume, making sure to hide your face pretty well since you refused to let anyone know who you were, even though you were a nobody that not even the media knew about.

You then started to create your own vigilante, giving yourself the name of 'Spider', like the hero Spider-Man from the comics you used to read.

Hey, you got bit by a spider and decided to follow that theme, no judgement on that.

You created the web fuel and used a grappling hook that was lying around to create a web shooter, making sure to make it hidden on your wrists.

Then you started to train in the abandoned park that no one ever walked by, using the trees around it and the buildings as a way to learn how to swing around.

You also learned how to fight by spying your "family", recording how they fought and their weak and strong points to also learn from it.

In 2 months you officially became 'Spider', the new spider vigilante that helped the people from small thieves so no one had to be scared to walk on the streets.

You also used a taser if you couldn't fight against someone stronger and you didn't want to kill them with your super strenght, and the taser was the best move.

You didn't even notice but you started to become famous amongst the city, especially after helping a bus from falling off a brige and stopping a well known rapist after the police did nothing.

You just kept going, happy to help and thinking no one even noticed, not noticing that your "family" also started to notice the new vigilante and was starting to ask questions about who it was behind the mask.

But their curiosity may never be satisfied.

Tag List

@kiyomi-uchiha777

@cattioo

@dreamsarenicer

@gaozorous-rex-blog

@mfnqueen1

@loserwithnofriends

@ratchetprime211

@mamapucket

@proffesorbunny

@mindscape123

@imaginarydreams

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@i-never-saw-snow

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@that-bad-b1tch

@deathbynarcisstick

@deadmanscalling

(sorry if I can't tag everyone, I'll try to do all of them next time!)

[heykoonsy]

Word Count: 4.3k+

Pairing: Lance McClain x Keith Kogane

Summary: It’s the summer before Junior Year. Lance McClain is sixteen, and when he isn’t Skype-ing Hunk at Robotics Camp, he’s writhing in agony over a soul tattoo he’s never really been fond of. He longs for the day that it will stop…until it does. Lance struggles to accept who fate has chosen for him, grappling with his own expectations and hopes for love.

Notes: In a First Words Soulmate Tattoo AU, the two love birds get a matching set of tattoos when they enter puberty. The tattoo is nothing but the first words your soulmate says to you. There are countless theories regarding how placement, font, and tattoo pain play a role in the fated pair’s romance. 

Content Tags: Soulmate!AU, SoulTattoo!AU, Romance, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Minor Original Characters, High School Setting

Author's Note: Hey, sorry for the delay in posting this! I was helping a friend of mine move to their new home. Welcome to the first chapter of SoulHate! which funnily enough, got its name because I was using the working title: The Klance SoulHate!AU. Another note about this work is that dialog that has been italicized is spoken in Spanish, but since I don't know Spanish, this was my happy medium. There are a few instances where a word is stressed and that is the only time that the above does not apply. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Welcome to My Life

Lance turned over onto his right side, desperate to get any and all pressure off of his left hip as quickly as possible. He winced, blinking away the exhaustion from his eyes and probably a few tears as well. Lance threw off his blanket as gently as he could. If he accidentally bumped his hip bone the Lord would have to call him home. And he wished that was just an exaggeration. With a shaky hand Lance pulled up his grey tank top and looked at the cause of the pain he was receiving on this bright and sunny summer morning. His tattoo was acting up for the millionth time since he got it with old-lady puberty. Lance traced the lines of the words he’d been branded with at thirteen years old. They were haphazardly drawn—invoking a sense of discomfort and anger with just the font. He’d stared at these words for the last three years just imagining what kind of person his soulmate would be. From the looks of his tattoo, she had a biting attitude, not to mention her vulgar language. 

Lance’s mind was teleported back to the day he got his tattoo—how he’d cried out in pain so bad in the nurse’s office that the school had to call his parents to pick him up. He could still hear his mother’s voice as she tended him in the driveway of their house.

“My goodness, Lance! Look at these words! She’s so rude, talking to you this way.” She moved her hands along his left arm to comfort him in the back seat.

Lance sniffed and wiped at the tear tracks on his cheeks. “What does it say?” Lance asked her after he was calm enough to form words.

His father chimed in at that point, settling behind his mother,Angella, with an unwrapped orange Popsicle. “No one is using that kind of language.”

“Thank you, Cedro,” she said with a stern tone as she took the popsicle from his waiting hand.

“You’re not going to touch it, right?”

“No, no baby.” She offered the popsicle to Lance.  “Aunt Amillia Rose says that orange popsicles help with the pain. Eat it,” she smiled and then removed herself from the car.

“Why does it hurt so bad? Tracey’s didn’t hurt this bad did it?”

“No, Lance. Tracey’s tattoo was in a less sensitive place,” his father tried to explain but it only left Lance more confused.

Lance was brought back to reality as another wave of pain crashed over him. It was like someone was spreading hot glue directly onto the skin of his hip. Lance groaned as the stinging subsided for a brief moment. He caught his breath, unaware that he’d been holding it in the first place. Deep down, Lance knew what this renewed pain meant.

His tattoo was reacting to his stress. Again.

Lance learned from his parents that soul tattoos were how fated lovers found each other. How the tattoos bonded the two forever regardless of race, gender, poverty, beauty or age. His parents were probably one in a million success stories, which meant they were also blind to how Lance felt on the subject. It seemed that his mother and father could ignore the pain and uncertainty that came with the permanent “love dowsing-rod”. If Lance were honest—which given his personality type, he usually wasn’t—he thought of the soul tattoos as nothing more than a burden. There was nothing he found miraculous or life changing about being in unbearable, unstoppable pain twice in one lifetime—and in his case, even more. But, the pain would be almost okay if Lance were able to know more than just his soulmate’s first words to him. 

If he could get a name, a face—heck, even a minor detail like preferring hot chocolate or coffee or winter over summer–that would be great. Something to gauge whether or not the universe was playing a literal cosmic joke on him. It wouldn’t be so bad if he knew what he was getting into—and the “have faith in fate” vibe his parents gave off didn’t reassure him as much as it set a barrier between the three of them. There was a chance Lance’s soulmate wouldn’t love him. Maybe she would make fun of his ears or his taste in music. What if Lance were picked on for being associated with whoever he got paired with? In the middle of reliving his anxieties, Lance remembered his mother and Auntie Mabel consoling his cousin Cleo after she got home from a pool party in her freshman year of high school.

Lance had been in the mud room when Cleo opened up to their moms about why she was upset at dinner. He was grabbing a new shirt since Cleo dumped her water down his front. He hid, keeping himself flat against the ajar door as he eavesdropped on the three of them. Lance heard Cleo spill that the girls that invited her to the party had pulled off her t-shirt and showed the boys the soul tattoo on her back. Not even her friends came to her aid. Everyone just laughed.

“I don’t want to have this crappy tattoo anymore,” Cleo spat, her voice hoarse from stifling her sobs so they didn’t echo through the house. “I get made fun of whenever people see it.”

“No, no, no! How could you ever want to ignore such a blessing? Those girls just don’t understand that love is sometimes embarrassing,” he heard his mother say to a sniffling Cleo.

“Yeah, Cleo. Your tattoo is unique and beautiful. If you let anyone tell you otherwise, you are teaching them that their backwards way of thinking is acceptable,” Auntie Mabel said. She pulled on Cleo’s arm, hugging her close to her chest and patting her head. Cleo continued soaking Auntie Mabel’s blouse with tears for a good five minutes after that.

There was one thing that Lance took away from that conversation. It definitely wasn’t that he should be proud of his soul tattoo. Instead, it was to never expose himself to scrutiny and criticism. Never would he be the one called odd or irregular for his tattoo. That included his partner, whoever she may be.

 Lance looked down at his tattoo and wondered if the pain was really gone. He pressed a clammy hand to the inflamed patch of skin discolored black by ink. He sighed and rose from his bed. With that over, Lance rotated his legs left and his bare feet struck the tops of his fuzzy blue slippers. Lance palmed his phone which was resting on his bedside table, charger connected and flashing a happy battery percentage. He checked the time first. Eight o’ clock on the dot, exactly thirty minutes before he could message Hunk on Skype. Lance put on his slippers and, with phone in hand, he strolled out of his room and towards the bathroom. He had time for a quick shower—enough to wash off the grubby feeling his soul tattoo’s resurgence had caused. Maybe he’d put on a mud mask while he dried off. Anything to eliminate the stress he was feeling.

Lance entered the bathroom which was just a quick walk down the hall. But it was occupied judging by the light underneath the door. Lance knocked quickly, gravity aiding in telling him how much he needed to pee.

“Yes?” Lance heard Nino’s small voice call from inside.

“Nino, I’ve gotta pee,” Lance said. “Are you done?”

Instead of answering, Lance heard the shuffling of a plastic stool and the click of the doorknob opening. Lance looked down to where his little brother was standing, toothbrush in hand and blue foam all over his mouth.

“Come in,” Nino said as he grabbed Lance’s arm and then returned his blue stool to the front of the sink.

Lance closed the door and walked over to the toilet, pulling down the waistband of his pants. He stood there for a little bit, listening to Nino as he obsessively brushed over every tooth he had. Once he was done, Lance flushed and went to the sink. He stood behind Nino and turned on the faucet to rinse off his hands. He rested his chin on Nino’s head and sighed, looking at himself in the mirror that his little brother was still too short to see into. His hair was a mess from all of his rolling around last night—and his eyes looked even worse. They practically gave away the fact that he was dead tired and annoyed at the world.

“You look like poop,” Nino said as he spit out some of the foam in his mouth. A waft of bubblegum came off his breath.

“I’m gonna tell mom you said that,” Lance threatened.

Nino got quiet. “Meany.”

“You’re the meany,” he said and then backed away from the sink after turning off the faucet. “I’m gonna take a shower now, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Nino then began washing off his toothbrush and flushing out his mouth with water. When he was done he jumped off his stool and wiped off his mouth on Lance’s shirt.

“Bye,” Lance said almost angrily.

“Bye.”

When Lance came back from the bathroom it was eight twenty-four and he was already clad in his blue bathrobe, had a towel on his head, and his face was slathered in a mud mask. Lance sat in the swivel chair at his desk and fired up his laptop before spinning it around a few times. He stopped when he heard the tell tale chime of the login screen. He entered his password and that quick he was firing up Skype. Lance looked at the time at the bottom right hand of the screen. He had exactly five minutes until he could call Hunk. 

Currently, his best friend was at this fancy robotics camp he went to every year since sixth grade. It was a whole four weeks of sad, hug-less, Hunk-less summer poured right down the drain. But every year before he left, Hunk reassured Lance that he could Skype him every morning and every night at eight thirty. Breakfast ended at eight-thirty which meant the campers, i.e. Hunk, had thirty minutes of down time before that day’s activity started. The same thing happened at night before lights out. When Lance looked back down at the clock, it was prime Hunk calling time.

Lance clicked on his contact list and pulled up Hunk’s name. Another click and his laptop was already trilling. Lance looked towards the door of his room and swiveled over to make sure it was shut before he started his conversation. When he got back Hunk still hadn’t answered. The last time he’d done this, it had taken Hunk eight minutes to find a private enough spot in order to talk to Lance. Everyone crowded the cafeteria and the Wi-Fi wasn’t nearly strong enough to connect him outside. Once, Hunk had to build a blanket fort for some solitude for one of their calls. But, as it stopped ringing, Lance learned that Hunk had found a spot rather quickly.

“Okay, so I know this is an odd place to carry out a conversation, but this place is insane when it comes to privacy,” Hunk said, his voice slightly echoing from the bathroom stall he was in.

“Look man, I’m not the one in a public bathroom, I’m not complaining,” Lance said.

Hunk looked suspicious for a second. “Wait, why aren’t you complaining? And what’s with the mud mask?”

Already Lance had been caught. “My tattoo’s been killing me since last night. I haven’t gotten much sleep,” he admitted. After all, he couldn’t lie to Hunk. He’d deduce it sooner or later and it would be better for Lance if he didn’t jump to conclusions.

“Really? I thought you looked rough.”

“Oh my God, thanks.” Lance put a hand to his chest, making a show of calming his heart from the flattery. “That’s what every guy wants to hear.” He sent a sarcastic eye roll loose in Hunk’s direction. “But yeah, I know what you mean. I guess a boiling hot shower can’t wash away everything.”

“Probably not. You might want to hide from your mom for a while.”

“Yeah,” Lance said before he winced. He grabbed his hip out of habit. “Ouch.”

“I am so not envious, dude.”

“So how was your morning?”

“Definitely less painful than yours,” Hunk said as he chuckled. “We had breakfast pizza today. No one started a food fight, which I have a feeling you were counting on. Oh, there was some juicy gossip that I heard today.”

“Okay, first of all, don’t talk about food. I can’t go downstairs for nourishment just yet. Also, I am mad about the food fight. Didn’t I tell you that you had to initiate one before the end of your stay?”

“Yes, you did say that. But will I?” Hunk put his hands up.

“Wait, what was the juicy gossip?”

“What?” He raised an eyebrow.

“The juicy gossip, Hunk, who do you think I am? Tell me all of it, every detail.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay, well apparently someone got kicked out of camp today for hacking the camp website. Every thirty seconds, there would be a cluster of asteroids raining down the page. It was one of the girls here. Her name was…Sarah? Sam?” He looked perplexed for a moment but then he got back on track. “Anyway, I heard it from Micah.”

“Your nerd friend!” Lance announced with recognition. “I mean that in an endearing kind of way, I hope he knows that,” Lance said as he leaned on his elbows.

“He does, actually. I told him all about you.”

Lance’s face lit up. “Because I’m great?”

“Because you are a pain in my neck.”

“A great pain in your neck?”

Hunk sighed with a wide smile taking up most of his face. “Yes. So are you going to tell your parents that your tattoo is hurting again?”

“And open that can of worms? No, thank you. Tattoo pain has two causes: stress and as a gauge for when you are going to meet your soulmate. I think I’d rather spare them from the false alarm.”

“True. What have you been stressing over lately?”

Lance leaned back in his chair, huffing at the invasive question. “The usual. What I’m going to have for dinner tonight, why the sky is blue, why people aren’t worshipping me as a deity…I could go on.”

Hunk knew that he’d gotten defensive and dropped the topic, as he normally would. “Sounds like fun. Anyway, I’ve gotta go. I don’t want the smell of the bathroom lingering on my clothes. I have to keep myself looking nice in case I meet my soulmate.”

Lance laughed and then watched as Hunk signed off. He felt his stomach drop as he looked down at his mouse pad. Again with that soulmate thing. He always got antsy whenever his tattoo started hurting. Lance sat up in his chair and shut down his laptop. He stood, and with a swipe of his hand, Lance closed the lid of his laptop. It was nearly nine, which meant that his mother was probably helping Uncle Raymón at the shop, his dad was at work and Aunt Amillia Rose was watching Amada and Nino. Sweet. No one was around to interrogate his exhausted self—breakfast was feasible. Lance could already picture the Frosted Flakes sitting in a heaping bowl glistening with milk. His mouth watered so bad he had to snap it closed. But before that—Lance prodded at the mud mask to see if it was completely dry. Alright, so breakfast would be delayed by a few minutes. No problem.

Big problem. Very big problem.

Lance was sitting at the end of the table, opposite his parents who were being especially cuddly this afternoon—for whatever reason. He’d only been half paying attention to the conversation that everyone but he and Amada were taking part of. The other half of his attention was preoccupied by an intense pain in his waist. That’s right, ladies and gentleman. His stupid soul tattoo was trying to out him right in front of his family. The betrayal. Lance tried to keep himself from wincing by wiggling his legs underneath the table. He looked around for a moment to distract himself from the searing pain overtaking his nervous system. To his immediate left—Amada—who had to sit on two pillows in order to see her food on the table. Beside her, her mom, Aunt Amillia Rose. To his immediate right, Nino. Next to him was their father. At the head of the table his mother spoke to Nino.

“What’s on your mind, Nino?”

“I was thinking about your soul tattoo, mama, when am I gonna get mine?”

“In a few years. You just have to be patient,” his father explained.

“I don’t want to wait.”

“Nino, do you see Lance making a fuss out of his soul tattoo?”

Nino shook his head. “But Lance has one. How did you get yours?”

Lance’s eyes shot to Nino. Oh, he was asking their parents. Thank God.

“Well, I got mine when I was twelve but your dad got his pretty late.”

Aunt Amillia Rose laughed at this. “Are you going to tell the whole story? I thought I’d heard it enough.”

Angella pulled out her right wrist, where there was a small cursive inscription right over the veins there. “My tattoo hurt when I first got it, so much that I cried to my mom and grandma about it. They told me to stop complaining.”

Amillia Rose sipped on her water. “You were so mad at them that you put dirt in their shoes.”

“I was in pain,” Angella said, fitting an escaped curl back behind her ear. “But when I was eighteen, she and grandma gave me the most beautiful bracelet. And I carried it on me for years—until the day the loop broke and I lost it while walking around the beach.”

“Did you ever find it?” Amada asked; her voice so quiet Lance could barely hear her despite the fact that he was sitting next to her.

“Of course, baby girl! I was nineteen, my wrist had been burning for what seemed like days, and I was trying to enjoy the beautiful weather when someone tapped me on the shoulder.” Angella looked over at Cedro, her eyes getting teary for just a moment. She brought her wrist up again, looking longingly at the words before reading them aloud.

Cedro beat her to the punch, already reciting the words as if he’d repeated them to her every day. “Ma'am, I think you dropped this.”

“He’d watched it fall off my wrist just a minute before. I was so lost in the crashing waves and wind I couldn’t hear him trudging after me.”

“And when I finally got her attention, it was like the ocean was singing to me. After I showed her the bracelet she shouted her gratitude and my heart just burst.”

“My bracelet, thank you!” Angella shouted like she had all those years ago. Of course, now she didn’t have an entire ocean to drown out.

“Your Mom and I have been together ever since, Nino. So when we tell you to be patient, you must listen. Your tattoo will come and you too will meet your soulmate.”

Lance stopped paying attention when another tremor of pain shook him to the core. He looked down at his hip, begging the pain to stop for just another ten minutes. When some of the pain subsided, he glanced up at his family. Their eyes were glued to Amillia Rose, who was telling a story about her and Angella’s early childhood. Lance faced his plate, his untouched meal staring him in the face. He’d have to finish them quickly if he had any hope of escaping his family’s concerned looks—

“Lance, you’ve barely said anything. What’s with the silence?” Amillia Rose asked.

Lance resisted the urge to look up towards the heavens and scream: why me? Instead, he looked at his aunt with a smile on his face. “Nothing, I’ve just been thinking.”

“About?” His father asked.

“Since Hunk is at Robotics Camp I don’t know what to do with myself.”

The table seemed to nod in unison before starting up another conversation. Thank the sweet Lord above. Lance started to shovel rice into his waiting mouth, desperate to get out of the dining room. He patted himself on the back for his quick thinking—the only downside was that now they’d ask for favors since he didn’t have anything better to do. With the current state of his soul tattoo even doing the dishes seemed too daunting of a task.

Ten minutes after Lance finished eating he was at the front door, shoes on, his older brother’s blue hand-me-down hoodie hanging low on his waist. He was staring at the front door, hand already gripping the doorknob. He listened quietly, ears straining to hear which of his family members was walking out of the living room and towards him. When he heard them stop just behind him, he turned around with a smile at the ready.

“An after dinner walk?” Aunt Amillia Rose asked, her smile escaping in her voice.

“Yeah, ten minutes tops.”

“Sounds good.” She sighed, shoulders relaxing for a moment. “I’ll be putting the kids to bed. See you.”

Lance watched her disappear up the stairs, sundress swaying with the motion of her steps. He turned back towards the door, shaky perspiring hand opening it before his tattoo gave another hearty try at derailing his progress at not being found out by his nosy family. He shut the door as quietly as he opened it and breathed in the crisping summer-night air. He looked to his right, where a yellow street light lit up his path down the driveway and onto the sidewalk. Lance put his hands in the pockets of his shorts, trying his best to calm down. He tried to rationalize things for himself. His tattoo was just hurting because he was stressed about his tattoo hurting. There was nothing to be worried about. Aunt Amillia Rose dealt with this all the time—tattoo pain was nothing to be worried about. He’d just eat an orange popsicle and explain that he’s been worried about the new school year. Yeah. Except it was August and he hadn’t even gotten his schedule in the mail.

Lance wondered if instead of all this lying he could just be honest like Cleo was all those years ago in the dining room. Maybe his mom and dad would tell him that it was okay to worry about his soulmate and not pressure him into loving who he was paired with. Maybe Aunt Amillia Rose would give him tips on how to reduce the seemingly limitless pain he was in whenever his stress spiked like this. Lance sighed, realizing that although he hoped for something like that to happen, he knew his parents too well. Although Aunt Amillia Rose would do anything to help him, she was also devoted to her sister and wouldn’t keep any secrets from her. And he didn’t think he could sit through another talk with his dad after the birds and the bees incident in middle school.

With a quick shiver, Lance found that he’d stopped walking—instead he’d just been standing outside a vacant house, bright white For Sale sign gleaming in the moonlight above. He looked up at where Mr. Nichols lived before the remnants of his family put him in a nursing home. There was a tree in the front yard, the branches of which sprawled all over the front lawn. There was a porch connected to the front of the house where Nichols would sit and watch the birds all morning. Now, in the dark, it seemed eerie. Like the house knew that it had been empty for a while and was heartbroken. So lonely that it waited forlornly until morning, when the sun shone on the tree and the birds woke and sang to keep it company.

Lance was about to turn tail and return home when the skin on his hip started to reenact the Great Fire of London. He grabbed his tattoo with his left hand and struggled to hold himself up with the For Sale sign with his right. He took in a deep breath, eyes watering as he refused his body the chance to cry out.

This was supposed to be a calming walk! What was he doing wrong!?

Lance lowered himself, sure that a quick breather would set him straight. He sat there, back against the sign, both hands now covering the burning flesh of his hip. He took deep breath after deep breath and finally things seemed alright. Above him, the leaves stirred in the breeze that waltzed down the street just like he had. Of course the wind was less of a mess than he was at the moment. Lance tried to picture what he must look like right now, resting against a stupid For Sale sign, hands hidden, eyes wet and cheeks streaked with tears he couldn’t stop. How drab. Not his usual picturesque self—that’s for sure. If his family saw him like this he was sure that they wouldn’t recognize him. Probably not even Hunk. Okay, that’s a dirty lie. Hunk would recognize him even if he were in a different body. That’s what friendship since middle school rewarded you with.

Lance sighed again, and it didn’t take an ounce of weight off his chest. He guessed that it was time to go home. This walk hadn’t helped him after all. So Lance got up from where he was sitting on Mr. Nichols’ old lawn and stumbled his way down the street towards his house. When he got there he’d have a nice warm bed to look forward to. And an empty room since his older brother Tracey moved out a few years ago. Not to mention the kids would be getting ready for bed so he could spend as much time as he wanted writhing in agony.

[ MASTERLIST ] [ TEASER ] [ NEXT ]

[twistthescript]

☯️ for Ricky?

Okay, I have another (very delayed) list comin y'all's way.

Ricky's likes and dislikes, here we go:

Likes:

As a child, he did actually like dogs. There was an old pitbull who lived down the street and was known to wander and it always showed a lot of love to the cats at his house.

He enjoys testing his own limits. This could mean his physical, mental, or emotional limits. He knows what he should be doing, and what he can do, but someone will probably find him stuck in a corner somewhere because his wheelchair got caught.

Careening off of the previous point- he likes listening to people and helping them with their issues. He enjoys being helpful, because in the back of his head (in some very messed up way), it means that he's being included. Plus, he's just a very selfless character and very realistic. If he can help, he will. If he can't help as much, he'll listen.

During his more achy days when he uses his wheelchair, he enjoys speeding down the halls after school because there's no one to stop him.

He adores Cats: The Musical- he even has a 21 year old, scraggly gray cat named Grizabella who's older than he is- and he treats her like the queen of her own castle (she is. duh)

He sometimes makes his own stickers to put on his crutches. You know, the notebook paper drawings that you press between two layers of packing tape? Yeah- he's drawn all of his cats and adhered them to most of his things. He puts them along the inner side of his crutches so when he sits down, they're facing him.

Dislikes:

Contrary to popular belief, and however well-founded it would be- Ricky doesn't hate Ocean. He hates her way of thinking and her attitude towards him and other people.

He hates onions. He doesn't cook with them, nor does he keep them in the house (his parents went along with that). His reasoning? They're toxic to cats.

Dogs. The pitbull from earlier was fine. When that dog died, the next puppy in its place attacked one of his cats and bit the rubber grip off of Lady Marzipan.

Math. Mostly because all of his teachers believed him to be incompetent- and Ocean was always in his class. He's actually very good at it, but mucks up the test answers just enough to barely pass. They can believe what they want about him, but their perception of him is not his problem... and he'll play along for shits and giggles.

That's all I have for now! Cheers!