#least favorite project of the semester | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kitimeq · 17 days ago

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⋆.˚✮ thunderstruck 🤍 xavier 星回 ✮˚.⋆

⋆.˚✮pairing: bad boy/punk xavier x reader

⋆.˚✮word count: 6.2k

⋆.˚✮summary: popular among girls, distant and intimidating troublemaker—that’s how others saw him. gentle, charming and intelligent boy, who had no idea what personal space was—that’s how you knew him. and although the truth lied somewhere in between, one thing was certain: xavier would do anything to finally make you his. starting with asking you out, of course.

⋆.˚✮tags: bad boy xavier, punk xavier, college setting, kinda meet cute, but more like talking to each other for the first time cute, self-confident xavier, but also shy xavier, the duality of this man is insane, he has TATTOOS, and PIERCING, and he’s so djbdgdsb yess yess, i did it for myself i’m sorry, smoker xavier, but not for long hehehihi, he’s a gentleman, and totally whipped, like, absolutely whipped for the reader, sfw, yet!! if i continue it it would turn mdni for sure.

please let me know if u liked it and if u would be interested in reading more <33

“Aaaand he’s looking at you again.” Simone snapped you out of your thoughts, making your fingers stop their frantic movements over the keyboard. The two of you were sitting at the campus café, desperate to finish your assignments as quickly as you possibly could, thinking that each other’s company and your favorite sweet drinks might make the work at least a little bit more enjoyable.

And it actually worked—you were almost done with your essay, and judging by your friend’s relaxed posture and the fact that she had time to observe her surroundings, she must’ve finished hers too.

“Hmm? Who?” You asked with a small smile, noticing how the cream from her coffee sat above her upper lip, creating the illusion of a thin mustache and making her look like a cute little detective. You pulled out a napkin from the holder and brought it to her lips, muffling her next words in the process.

“Xavier, that punk guy who—oh, thank you, baby, it always makes me look like Freddie Mercury—who studies some kind of engineering.” You laughed softly at her added comment and placed the dirty napkin on your small, empty plate. “Girl, you heard what I said? Xavier. That Xavier has literally been drilling a hole in your head for the past hour or so, with those sexy—like, dangerously sexy—eyes of his. And that—that piercing—and, and, you know what? You don’t seem concerned in the slightest, what if he’s like, mad at you or something? He always looks kinda scary. Sexy-scary, but still.” The last sentence said in a whisper, and you snorted, picking up your iced drink and taking a slow sip.

“Oookay, I think I’ve heard enough.” You laughed and shook your head, one hand returning to the keyboard to save your file. “He’s not mad at me. I know him. If he’s looking our way, he probably recognized me, but is too shy to say hi.” You finished your drink with not-so-quiet slurp, your lips immediately letting go of the straw as you looked around bashfully, hoping no one had noticed.

“Too shy? Have you lost your mind? Or are there more scary-looking Xaviers around campus that I don’t know about?” She leaned forward, lowering her voice, and you closed your laptop with a sigh. You didn’t like that she called him scary, you always thought his usual pout, scowl or mask of indifference made him look kinda cute.

You checked the time on your phone and noticed that one of your electives was starting in 20 minutes—if you wanted to be there on time, you’d have to leave in a second.

“Besides, you know him? Since when?”

“Remember that one poetry elective I had to take last semester? We had a group project as the final assignment, and he was part of my group.” You watched with amusement as her mouth opened in shock, her brows furrowing. “And he’s actually really sweet. And smart, too, just not that much of a talker.” You shrugged, your eyes dropping as you remembered how the other group members had acted toward him back then.

How they talked behind his back, assuming he wouldn’t do his part of the project. How they doubted his abilities and overall academic competence as a conversation starter when he was sometimes late to meetings—and how quiet and reserved they became when he finally joined you.

You quickly got angry on his behalf, knowing that he had never been rude or disrespectful to any of you, and every single task he was assigned was sent to the group chat just a couple hours later. The fact that they treated him that way because of some rumor about him being a troublemaker, and his eye-catching, rough appearance, was what made you finally speak up.

“—He’s kind of a lost cause. He wouldn’t finish it anyway. What a guy like him can know about poetry? I’m surprised he can read at all.” One of the guys from the group commented again, taking advantage of Xavier’s absence. The meeting had just started, and you were sure he would come—just a tad bit later. You always assumed he had a class beforehand, but he never said anything when he realized that this particular hour suited the rest of you best.

He was always like this, you’d noticed it some time ago. He never wanted to cause any issues, always silently accepting and diligently working on whatever task was assigned to him. And yet, at nearly every meeting, he was dragged under the bus before he even had a chance to show up.

Their reactions surprised you a lot. You didn’t know Xavier personally before, but you knew of him, it was hard not to. He had a reputation as a reserved troublemaker and was extremely popular among girls, who seemed to try asking him out— or at least getting a good make-out session—probably every day, always without success. Ironically, that only made him a more intriguing target. He had the face of an angel, a body decorated like a fallen one, and the physique of an athlete, all on top of being seemingly unobtainable. Girls were totally head over heels for him, which actually made you pity him, knowing how much unwanted attention it probably brought.

And although he was pretty introverted and a little rough around the edges, people generally seemed to like him. He was intimidating, and he spoke his mind surely, but he didn’t seem like someone who went around looking for a fight. Within your project group, he was usually quiet and cooperative, which is why you couldn’t understand why they were suddenly being so harsh toward him.

That’s why on that day, you finally snapped.

“Oh, shut up, Matt. What do you know about poetry anyway? Most of us are here just because it fit our schedules.” You stood up from the table in the park, your designated meeting place, your hands pressing firmly against the polished wood. You couldn’t listen to Xavier being dragged anymore, judged solely on his appearance, when you knew he was actually quite engaged in the project. “And yes, maybe he’s a little late sometimes but he always shows up, and does the work perfectly. Besides, he’s never been rude to any of you, so I don’t understand why you’re always so awful to him.” Your face, and the slightly harsher edge to your voice, betrayed your annoyance, but you had finally lost the patience to care about their opinion of you.

Some of the girls who had been too afraid to speak up smiled at you encouragingly, while the main bully just shrugged, looking up at you nonchalantly with one arm draped over the back of the chair beside him.

“He looks like bad news. And gets on my nerves.” He answered simply, and if you weren’t red from anger before, you sure were now. “And he probably sells drugs or some—”

“And you look like a complete asshole right now.” You snapped, already frantically stuffing your notes into your bag. You refused to hear any more of this, not about a boy who had literally done nothing wrong to deserve such harsh words every time you met. “And you shouldn’t fucking care what he looks like. From what we know, he’s hard-working and smart, and he definitely has feelings, too. He deserves basic human respect, don’t you think?” You slung your bag over your shoulder and shot the guy another glare, completely ignoring their stares—which were definitely no longer aimed at you—and the quiet shadow that had appeared behind you some time ago. “I’ll send you the file by the end of the week. I won’t sit around, wasting time with someone who’d rather talk shit than do actual work. Now, if you’ll excuse m—”

Bump.

Your body bounced off a hard chest clad in a leather jacked, and by the time strong, tattooed hands gently grabbed your shoulders to steady you, you were already blushing.

Because Xavier was right there behind you. For God knows how long.

You snapped your head up, your panicked eyes meeting his deep blues—calm, gentle and understanding— as he continued to hold your shoulders, even though he must’ve know you had already gained your balance. You studied him for a moment: his longish hair, a mullet peeking out from the leather collar of his jacket, and ears adorned with various piercings. Your gaze drifted to his lips, drawn absentmindedly to the small silver ring on the side of his bottom lip, which he was now biting slightly.

Oh, God. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, oh, God—

“S—Sorry, I was just—leaving—” You said quickly, your eyes suddenly finding the grass fascinating. You could still feel the warmth of his hands lingering on your shoulders, along with the fresh, calming scent of a fabric softener mixed with something so uniquely comforting—

“I’ll walk you home, then.” His hands traveled slowly down your arms before he let go, your cheeks burning as you avoided his gaze at all costs. It was probably the first time he had spoken to you directly, spoken to any of you directly, really. His soft voice was usually directed at no one in particular, offering sparse but meaningful comments during your brainstorming sessions.

How much had he heard? Was he angry? He didn’t look angry. Why did he want to walk you home? He never walked any of you home.

“No! I mean, no—no, thank you, that’s so nice of you, Xavier, really, but I live pretty close by. You shouldn’t bother.” He adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder, and you noticed him turning his head toward the others.

“I could never be bothered by—Did you just fucking roll your eyes at her?” His calm voice suddenly turned cold, the tone not raised, but much sharper. Your head turned to the person he was now staring at, and you saw Matt’s eyes widen. “I asked you a fucking question. Did you roll your eyes at her?”

“And if I did then what are you going to do? Beat me up?”

“Wow, really Matt? You’re such a child.” You turned to him fully, but an arm blocked your way, an intricate tattoo depicting the moon cycle peeking from one rolled up sleeve.

“Apologize to her and you won’t have to find out.” You looked up at Xavier and almost smiled, noticing how the role of protector had flipped. But the intense stare he used to size up the annoying colleague made the hairs on the back of your nape stand on end. He sure looked intimidating when he wanted to. “I said, apologize.”

And when the silence began to stretch, and Xavier took a deliberate step forward, you grabbed his bicep, surprisingly firm and muscular, oh wow, and started to lead him away, afraid the conversation would turn sour in a matter of seconds.

Letting him walk you home wasn’t such a bad idea after all, you decided, feeling the sweat nearly drip from your temple.

“Wait, he didn’t apologize to you yet, and I won’t let him get away until he does.” You heard Xavier’s voice a step behind you but decided to continue your path, until you reached a safer distance.

“It’s okay. I’m not accepting apologies from ignorant jerks, anyway.” You heard a soft huff of laughter from him, and your lips curved into a small smile. Your steps slowed a moment later, and you took a deep breath, watching the clouds drift slowly across the sky while the gentle wind eased the burn of your cheeks. “Were you really planning to fight him?”

He was walking beside you now, your hand no longer holding his arm, and when you finally looked his way, you were startled to find him already watching you.

You could understand why people were wary of him—when he was right there beside you, his overall size was pretty intimidating. He towered over you an impressive amount of inches, and his body type, which you used to think was rather lanky, turned out to be more on the athletic side. With his lip and ear piercings, and now, clearly, an eyebrow piercing too, two small dots on either side of his eyebrow, paired with several tattoos on his hands and his rather muted wardrobe choice, he could raise some concerns.

Could, but didn’t have to. Not when his eyes were so gentle and kind, looking at you as if you had hung all the stars in the sky. To you, he looked like a prince: gentle features, silky-soft hair and a graceful stance that made him, ironically, the least intimidating person you’d met. It actually struck you how handsome he was, too. Much more handsome up close than from the distance, your heart fluttered nervously.

“Hmm. He disrespected you so, yes. Probably. It’s better to let him think I would. I usually don’t start fights.” Was his answer, his steps matching your pace, heavy, black combat boots stepping silently beside your white sneakers. You felt a tug at your arm, and before you could protest, he started carrying your handbag along his. All your protests died in your throat the moment he looked at you and shook his head. Message received. “I only end them.” Xavier added like an afterthought, and it didn’t sound like bragging but more like stating a fact. You laughed quietly and nodded, unsure what to say as your mind drifted back to the events from moments ago.

“I’m sorry for—”

“Thank you—”

You both started to speak at the same time and quickly stopped, a nervous laugh escaping from you. You looked at him again and noticed that his eyes were crinkled at the corners too. He adjusted his handbag on his shoulder and cleared his throat.

“Forgive me, but I’ll start. Because you have nothing to apologize for.” A sigh left your lips, and you started playing with your fingers, his answer easing your worries. He looked straight ahead when he spoke again. “I heard what you said to them. How you protected me. You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, I did. It wasn’t the first time they said such things and I should’ve spoken my mind much, much sooner.” You started speaking, annoyed again, the nearly forgotten rage rising inside you once more. “You were nothing short of helpful and kind to us and it was a pleasure to work with you! I just couldn’t listen to him spouting nonsense anymore.”

And when you tried to meet his eyes again, you noticed the tips of his ears were red.

“It was a pleasure to work with you, too.” His voice like a balm to your irritation, every single second spent in his presence confirming your beliefs about him being a secret sweetheart. “But I’m used to people taking shit about me, actually. And I really don’t care what they think.”

“Well, it’s good. You shouldn’t.” His lip piercing caught your eye again, and you decided it suit him very well. You also noticed that you had slowed down, but this time you were matching the pace he set. “But it doesn’t make it fine. So next time, stand up for yourself too, okay? You were quick to do that for me, so it shouldn’t be much of a problem to treat yourself with the same kindness, right?”

Xavier’s eyes suddenly met yours, his mouth opening and closing slightly as if he couldn’t find the right words to say. The tips of his ears were red, and he put a hand behind his back, stroking at the skin lightly, nervously.

“Mhm. Right.” His eyes drifted to your face, studying it intently. You found his gaze extremely intense, peeking from behind his silver strands, but you didn’t mind. His presence was actually very calming, both his voice and body language relaxed and almost dreamy-like.

Xavier stopped suddenly, making you wonder if he had forgotten something, or if your conversation was over, and he was about to return your bag and head his own way. Instead, he leaned toward you, took your hand in his—his touch feather-light, your fingers cradled gently in his—and he brought it up to his lips.

A kiss. Gentle one, but lingering, pressed just below your knuckles. You felt the warmth of his lips and the cool touch of the metal ring against your skin, and you swallowed hard the moment he opened his eyes and looked straight at you.

And it was a look you would reminisce about for weeks to come, because of how seen you felt right in that very moment. The clouds continued their never-ending journey across the sky, and the birds chirped a melody to which you were usually unaware. A look resembling a full conversation. A look holding meaning, one that you weren’t sure you were able to grasp yet.

“Thank you, my sweet little knight.” He whispered against your skin, and you gulped, your heart racing, mind blanking for a short while. “It seems I gained my own guardian angel today.” And when you saw how genuine he was, your body melted into his touch completely, your chest swelling with the quiet pride of knowing you did something good today.

“Anytime, princess.”

And when your ears caught his sudden, bubbly laugh, short canines on full display, that seemed to surprise even him, you didn’t let it become forgotten for the months to come, keeping the sound close to your heart.

You remembered the first day you actually talked to each other other and smiled softly; the walk home filled with interesting stories and shared laughter, the intimidating bubble he’d once seemed trapped in popped the moment you spent real time with him, leaving only the image of a sweet gentleman behind.

It wasn’t the only time you talked either, although after the elective course had ended your ways parted completely: your interactions scarce and happening usually when you were in a rush, or already late, to your classes.

A smile on your lips, followed by a happy wave of your hand met with the surprised, gentle spark in his eyes, and you were already gone.

There were only a handful of times you’d managed to exchange a word or two—usually while waiting in line at the coffee machine, with him asking about your major and interests, or when you were passing by him in the library, where you’d quickly complimented his new tattoo: a constellation on his forearm, still covered by a piece of second skin.

Quick, fleeting interactions; nothing more.

However, you found yourself thinking about him sometimes. About his melodic voice, a gentleness serving a sharp contrast to how rough he could’ve seemed to others. His soft hair, how you wondered what it would feel like to bury your fingers in it and stroke the strands gently. His lean but muscular build, his strong arms adorned with ink—art so majestic you found it hard to look away sometimes, your mind wandering, wondering if he had more tattoos on other parts of his body, and if so, where would they be hidden? And what would they depict?

His lips, soft pink hue, decorated with a silver ring, the coolness of which you already felt when he kissed your hand that day. And on the most desperate of nights, you let your mind imagine how it would feel pressed against your lips.

You shook your head, the thoughts unwanted and totally unnecessary, knowing that it was just a fleeting acquaintance. You couldn’t like him that way, because you knew that you surely weren’t his type at all. You weren’t even sure why your mind started thinking about him in such a way, your type being usually the complete opposite. But you guessed that it was just because of how charming he was, how clever and funny, how awkward at times. How kind to you. And how absolutely gorgeous his eyes were—always looking at you with patience and an interesting kind of wonder.

It didn’t matter. You were only colleagues, and he was too popular and too different from you to actually be interested. So, you stopped thinking about it some time ago.

“‘Not that much of a talker,’ she says. I never—never!—heard him talk. And I had few electives with him, mind you.” The voice of your friend brought you back from wonderland. You decided not to answer anything to that, thinking that if you told her that he was the one who usually initiated conversations with you, she would probably have a stroke. “You are one lucky girl. You have your own guard dog now.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” You answered absentmindedly, not liking that label. “Or the other way around. I can be feisty.” You imitated shooting from your finger guns, and she laughed, raising her almost empty cup.

“Cheers to that!” You raised your empty cup too while throwing your laptop into your bag. “He’s still staring by the way. Hasn’t really stopped since I noticed. It would be really creepy if he wasn’t that handsome.” You snorted, zipping up your bag and looking down at your phone.

“I told you, he probably just wants to say—Oh, shit! Gotta go! The classes start in 10 and I mixed up the buildings again!”

“Oh, shoot, is that the one at the end of—?” You nodded frantically and she waved her hand dismissively. “Go! I’ll take care of your cup, see you later!” You quickly went to her and hugged her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before practically flying out of the café, completely forgetting to send Xavier a small wave on your way out, if he really was sitting somewhere behind you.

That’s why you also missed how abruptly he stood the moment you bolted for the door—wanting to chase after you, but stoping himself when he realized you didn’t even have time for a small talk. He should’ve approached you sooner, should’ve spoken to you the moment he saw you, instead of just sitting there, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of your angelic smile.

He wondered when did he loose his balls, when even the simple idea of talking to you made his heart flutter nervously, his hands automatically reaching to scratch at the ink submerged in his skin. He was pathetic, and it was really starting to get on his nerves.

And at that moment his eyes locked with those of your friend, her lips slowly curling into a knowing smile as she caught him almost running after you. She wiggled her eyebrows at him, and in that instant he finally decided to stop being a coward.

He couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing you everyday anymore.

He grabbed his bag and started walking purposely to the place which you occupied only moments before. He needed information and he would get it, even if he would have to beg for it.

“Oho. I knew it.” Your friend said, seconds before he even managed to introduce himself.

And he realized that he’d known it too. Almost from the moment he first saw you.

You were exhausted to say the least.

Your classes dragged on, making your head hurt from staring at the constantly changing slides. Your whole body felt sore, and you stretched the moment you reached the lockers—arms raised, back arched, a moan almost escaping your lips.

Your poor legs practically begged for the short trip back to your apartment, if the slight numbness in them wasn’t already enough of a sign of stagnation.

You opened your eyes lazily and turned the key in your locker, wanting to gather your things as quickly as possible and finally see the light of day.

“Hey.” A low greeting from right behind you made you spin around too quickly, your back bumping against the locker. It startled you when you noticed how close he was standing, towering over you.

Xavier.

In all his tattooed glory, hair unruly as always, and his pretty eyes boring straight into yours. He hissed when you made contact with the locker, his large hand immediately coming to rest on the back of your head, gently caressing it, afraid you had taken the hit. You blushed, the contact sudden and unexpected, his body possibly closer to yours than ever before.

“Are you okay?” The hand on the back of your head slid down slightly, now resting on the nape of your neck. The hold was gentle, intimate. You wondered if he realized it. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.” His thumb stroked the skin on your neck, and your cheeks caught fire.

You gulped and shook your head, sighing as the tension in your shoulders eased when you saw his familiar face.

“It’s okay. I’m not hurt, and I didn’t hit my head, so don’t worry.” His expression visibly shifted, relief written all over his face. But his hand didn’t leave your neck. “Sorry, hi. Hi. I just didn’t expect you here.” You didn’t expect anyone really, it was already late for classes and if any were to take place, everyone would already be inside classrooms.

His presence was especially puzzling, it wasn’t even his faculty, did he had another elective here?

“I wanted to see you.” Straightforward answer, as usual. You send him a small smile, thinking back to earlier when you almost met at the café; if it hadn’t been for you being in such a hurry. He must’ve felt bad for not coming up to you, especially since he probably waited for you to finish your classes. But why did he care so much? “And I was actually thinking… Hoping that…” His hand slid away from the back of your neck and began playing absentmindedly with a strand of your hair, while you struggled to keep the blush from darkening your cheeks even further.

He was so close. Too close. You could almost feel his breath warming up your face and see your reflection staring back from the little silver dots in his eyebrow. An inch or two more, and you were sure his hair would brush your forehead, given how much he was leaning into your space.

But he was always like this whenever you two crossed paths—his body leaning in too close to be just friendly, paying no mind to your personal space. His hands were also always reaching out for you as if he couldn’t help it: fixing the hair that fell into your face, stroking your arm, or even occasionally brushing your nose with his knuckle when you said something that made him chuckle.

You thought this was his way of being friendly and you enjoyed it, ignoring the fact that it only seemed to fuel your silly little crush. Besides, you found it very endearing that he was so distant and cold with others, yet so touchy-feely with the ones he liked. It made you feel special, if not a little hopeful.

And that’s when the sharp smell hit you, a cigarette smoke mixed with his pleasant, soft cologne. You scrunched up your nose and pressed a hand against his chest to create some more distance between you.

“Oof, you smoked again.” You couldn’t help but comment, seeing his brows furrowing in confusion upon your slight push of his chest.

“You can still smell it? I even got some gum.” To prove his point, he blew a small bubble from his lips, a minty scent reaching your nose when he popped it a second later, the corners of his lips lifting in a small, proud smirk.

“It’s all over your clothes, Xavier. The smoke seeped right into them. You need a bath, not a gum.” Quiet, unserious little “ouch” left his lips, and you tugged at his black sweatshirt, only now noticing a small cat plushie hanging from one of his sleeves.

So cute. You loved that accent, your finger going to poke at the accessory with an exaggerated sigh. “How could you do it to this adorable little thing?”

“It’ll live. Always does.” His eyes followed your finger still gently touching the plushie, “He’s a tough guy, can handle a bit of smoke. He’d take a drag too if he could, probably.” You sent him a half-serious glare and pulled your hand away from his arm, signaling defeat. You noticed he was still standing right where you had pushed him back to, more mindful of your space.

You turned your back to him to open your locker again, and pulled out your bag, along with your light jacket. However, before you could even sling the bag over your shoulder, he already grabbed hold of it, his fingers brushing against yours in the process.

“Does it bother you?” Xavier asked, his voice unsure, your bag already on his arm. The pastel-colored plushies hanging from it were a sharp contrast to his appearance. You looked at him again after making sure you had closed the locker. “The smell of smoke, I mean.” His beautiful blues bore into your eyes, his teeth biting at the lip ring nervously.

“Well, I can’t say I like it. I don’t think anyone really does.” He looked at you like a scolded puppy, his hair falling into his eyes when he turned his head to the side. “But it’s your choice, really, I can’t tell you how you should live. It’s just… really sad to know that you’re destroying your lungs daily.”

“Hmm, yeah. It is pretty sad.” Although a pout marked Xavier’s face now, you noticed a slight playfulness in his voice. Then, a sudden spark appeared in his eyes, as if an idea had just formed in his mind. “I could die. You wouldn’t want that to happen, am I right?” He leaned toward you again, one hand placed beside your head, his body almost trapping you against the lockers, your back pressed to the cool metal again. His fingers stroked your wrist, then trailed up to your forearm, his stormy blue eyes following the movement attentively.

“Y—You’re acting weird.” You commented weakly, your heart increasing its beating against your chest. He was so close, too close, his body towering over yours, making you see only him. You nervously looked around, hoping no one saw you, but you already knew you were alone. “Of course I wouldn’t, but—” You wanted to comment on his unusual boldness, ask a question to why was he suddenly acting like this, but he cut you off before you could say another word.

“I’ll quit, then.” His face so close you could smell the mint of the gum and feel the coldness of his breath on your cheek. You trembled unconsciously. “I don’t want you to be worried. But, I think I would like to ask for something in exchange.”

“Ah, so that’s what it’s all about, you’re cozying up to me because you want someth—”

“A date.” Your mouth closed instantly, eyes meeting his in shock. “There’s this gig that I would love to take you to, this weekend. Open-air, starts at midnight. We could—we could grab a bite too right before it starts? If you’d want to, of course.” You watched as his confidence slowly melted as he was speaking, voice trembling nervously at times, the tips of his ears turning red.

It was probably the longest reply he ever gave you, his sentences usually short and precise. And as you stared at him in disbelief, at his red ears and lip that he was now nervously biting despite acting so tough moments before, your chest filled with a warm, fuzzy feeling of your affections being reciprocated.

He was asking you out on a date.

Xavier, that Xavier: hot, intimidating, unbothered, extremely popular and seemingly unapproachable in the eyes of others.

Xavier, an intelligent, soft, socially awkward and extremely sweet little crush of yours was asking you out on a date.

You had to force yourself not to squeal, the idea that he found you attractive too making you nearly melt right into his chest, that seemed to be getting closer and closer with every second. You were both so different from each other, how could you predict that you actually had a chance with him? You thought that your quick, daily encounters was only him being nice, maybe excited to have a new friend.

Your lips curled into a smile, eyes sparkling with excitement you couldn’t contain.

“Is it that band you were talking about last week?” The memory of catching him staring excitedly at his phone right before you approached him during one of your short class breaks was still fresh in your mind. His fingers had been fidgeting with the cap he wore that day, turning it around as he leaned in to show you the newly added dates—one of which was very close to Linkon.

“Yeah. My favorite one.” He was getting more and more nervous, his hand was touching the nape of his neck now. “And I know these things can be loud and stuffy but I would protect you. You’d be safe with me, I swear, I wouldn’t let anyone else—”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” His head lowered even closer, the tips of your noses nearly touching. His eyes half-lidded, gazing down at you, his heart skipping a beat.

“Mhm. I would love to go with you.” Afraid to stumble over your words, your answer a gentle whisper. “Even without you quitting smoking. Buuut, it’s a really nice bonus.” Xavier chuckled, his head dropping to bring his lips closer to your ear.

“That so?” You had no idea, but he hid his head from your gaze for the widest of smiles to appear on his face. He closed his eyes and let himself bask in your closeness and sweet scent, mentally thankful for his burst of confidence earlier. “Then maybe the whole quitting thing isn’t really necessary?”

“Ah-ah. No takesies backsies—”

“No wha—”

“A promise is a promise.” You stated surely, your finger pressing on his chest as a warning. If he said he’ll quit, he better have to quit. Especially since now the possibility of him being closer to you daily has increased immensely. “If you want to reach for a cigarette now, you better pop in some gum. Or some candy, or ask for a—”

“Kiss?”

Your head turned his way just as his forehead rested on your shoulder. One eye opened, staring at you, a smirk lingering on his lips, the piercing there once again catching your attention.

Would you feel it when his mouth finally pressed to yours? Would it be forceful and bruising, or would he take his time, easing you into it with soft patience? He was a walking enigma, shy and gentle one moment, confident and quick the next. What side of him would you uncover if you let yourself get closer?

“Don’t overthink it or I might actually take your silence as a yes.” You breath hitched the moment he turned his head and you felt his lips touching the skin below your ear. Not a kiss, just a fleeting warmth of his mouth, the coolness of the ring causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. He took a step back, taking all the warmth away and you nearly chased after him to bring it back.

What was he doing to you?

His knuckles brushed your flushed cheek, and your eyelashes fluttered, the touch once again unexpected.

“First, you have to keep your end of the deal. Then we’ll see.” You learned that you were a literal, freaking master at feigning confidence, given how weak your legs felt and how much you wanted to pass out while meeting his affectionate gaze.

His face was slightly flushed too. Clearly affected, despite his confident demeanor. Maybe you weren’t that different from each other, after all.

“We will.” Xavier wet his lips, the tip of his pink tongue barely peeking out before his teeth sank into the plush skin— like he was already imagining how it would feel like. Maybe holding himself back from satisfying his curiosity right then and there. “I’ll make sure we will. Wouldn’t dare to miss the chance, angel.”

And when he walked you home that day, your bag swinging from his broad shoulder and your fingers brushing from time to time, sending pleasant sparks between you—you realized that, despite your differences, you’d never felt such a connection with anyone before. Talking with him was so easy, the way the walk home felt too short not to miss the comforting presence of his for hours after. And you were sure he felt the same, from the way he joked about not giving your bag back, to the goodbye hug you initiated, but he prolonged, his strong arms wrapping gently around your waist, reluctant to let go. And then there was the longing glance he gave you, just seconds before you closed the door.

A sharp ping of a new message cut through the air not long after, a string of new numbers followed by a simple sentences, ones that made your heart beat faster again.

keep thinking that I shouldve made up some lame excuse just to spend more time with U. The cat plushie said he misses U. I didn’t know he could read my mind — Xavier

And with a chuckle and a blush, you already knew that you were slowly falling in love—and you just hoped that when it fully bloomed, he would be there to help you care for it.

As for the kiss—the weekend couldn’t come soon enough.

🤍 if you liked it, you can support me here! https://ko-fi.com/kitimeq <3

every single one counts, it helps me grow and makes me feel that writing is not a waste of time!! <3

please like, reblog and COMMENT if u liked it!! i would love to know if i should continue it—i wrote it as a quick, cute bad boy xavier story. i would love to make it mdni ofc skdhshdg <33

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glowettee · 5 days ago

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✧・゜: self-discipline doesn't mean hating yourself into action :・゜✧:・゜✧

hey lovelies! ✧

i've been thinking about this a lot lately… how did we all collectively decide that being mean to ourselves was somehow the path to getting things done? like, who started this toxic rumor that self-discipline means internal screaming and punishment? because honestly? i spent years believing that the only way to accomplish anything was through this weird self-bullying technique and it was literally the least effective approach ever.

⋆.ೃ࿔:･ the wake-up call ･:࿔ೃ.⋆

last semester i hit a wall with my essay project. i had been doing that thing where you stare at your laptop, call yourself lazy in your head, promise to work for 8 straight hours to "make up for it," then get overwhelmed and watch netflix instead. but one night at like 2am (why do all realizations happen at 2am??) i wondered what would happen if i just… stopped being mean to myself about it?

what if self-discipline was actually about being the most understanding friend to yourself instead of the worst drill sergeant?

⋆.ೃ࿔:･ what actually works ･:࿔ೃ.⋆

start ridiculously small, i'm talking embarrassingly tiny steps. want to write that paper? commit to just opening the document and typing a single sentence. need to clean your space? just put away three things. the magic is that once you start, continuing feels so much easier.

create environments that make things easier, not harder. i rearranged my desk so everything i need is within reach and visible. stopped trying to work in my bed (even though it's so comfy) because my brain associates it with sleep and tiktok scrolling.

acknowledge the resistance instead of fighting it. when i feel that "i don't wanna" feeling, i literally say to myself "i hear you, and it makes sense you feel that way. what's one tiny piece we could do?" talking to myself like i'm my own bestie changed everything.

use curiosity instead of judgment. instead of "why am i so lazy?" (which never helps), try "i wonder what's making this hard for me right now?" sometimes the answer surprises you. maybe you're actually just hungry or need better lighting.

build in rest BEFORE you crash. i started scheduling actual breaks before i felt desperate for them, and somehow i get more done? it's like my brain knows it's not going to be held hostage forever.

⋆.ೃ࿔:･ the permission slip approach ･:࿔ೃ.⋆

my favorite technique lately has been what i call "permission slip productivity" where i literally write myself little notes giving permission to:

work imperfectly (first drafts can be messy!)

take breaks without guilt

change my approach if something isn't working

celebrate small progress instead of only the end result

acknowledge when something is genuinely difficult

there's something so powerful about physically writing yourself permission. it sounds silly but it works because it interrupts that mean inner voice that's been programmed into us.

⋆.ೃ࿔:･ the results speak for themselves ･:࿔ೃ.⋆

the wildest part? i actually get MORE done now that i've stopped the self-hate productivity method. turns out your brain works better when it's not being constantly criticized? who knew!

my essay (very big essay) got finished early. my room stays cleaner. i actually enjoy my study sessions now instead of dreading them. and most importantly, i don't feel that heavy cloud of shame following me around everywhere.

self-discipline isn't forcing yourself through misery, it's creating systems that work WITH your natural tendencies, not against them. it's about making things easier, not harder. it's about treating yourself like someone you actually care about.

and maybe the real glow-up isn't just checking things off your to-do list, but doing it without sacrificing your relationship with yourself in the process.

what about you? have you been trying to hate yourself into productivity? might be time for a gentler approach. you deserve that kindness from yourself. (and honestly? it just works better.)

xoxo, mindy 🤍

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kumkaniudaku · 5 months ago

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Just For You

Summary: Terry and Patrice give each other lasting nicknames.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: None

"Terrence and Patrice, you're married. Any objections?"

None from Terry. A few from Patrice, but what was new? She always had objections. Ms. Cole answered each of her star pupil's questions in extreme detail before sending the pair home as a fictional married couple exploring the semester's section on personal finance.

It was Terry's idea for them to work together on the weekend at his house, citing weekday football practices as too much of a hindrance to after-school instructional time. His sophomore year came with another growth spurt to a towering 6'1", and he couldn't let the new length or extra muscle go to waste. The fight for starting receiver had only just begun.

Patrice hated falling behind. The thought of letting days pass without tracking toward their project's completion ate away at her. She allowed Terry to have his way, but under one condition: they'd work all morning on Saturday to knock things out in one day.

He scrunched his face and ran a hand over his haircut. "Patrice, that's a lot. We can't stretch it to two days?" He thought again for a better solution when she started to open her mouth with a rebuttal. "What if we talked on the phone and finished up Sunday night! Then you only have to leave home once!"

"Take it or leave it, Terrence. One day or a little bit every day after your practice."

With Saturday morning SportsCenter's top five clips playing on the television while they sat beside each other, their feet and legs jutting out from beneath his mother's coffee table, it was clear he'd taken the offer with a few concessions. Highlights stayed on during homework.

Patrice sat still and quiet while she watched Terry twirl a pencil between his fingers and squint at the instructions on their project syllabus. Late morning sunlight streaming through the living room window brought out the honey color in his eyes, her favorite part of the blue-green pieces of art she pretended not to sneak glances at when they spent time together. His brows furrowed to create little ripples at the center of his forehead. Three. She always counted them when he made his focused face.

If anyone didn't know him, he'd look like an intimidating man at least five years his senior. But Patrice knew Terry was mostly a gentle giant. He spoke softly as if the sound of his own voice was scary, opened doors, laughed on occasion, and remained polite day to day. Compared to the other boys in his grade, Terry was a saint—a saint slowly creeping his way into Patrice's day-to-day thoughts.

Terry's shoulder brushed against Patrice's as he shifted on the floor, making her shuffle further away to avoid the goosebumps populating her forearm. Terry glanced over, concern replacing the focus in his eyes. "You okay? Did I hit you?"

"No, I just didn't wanna be so deep in your space." Partially true. The why was her secret to keep.

Terry shrugged. "It's cool. You're not bothering me." She never was. If he were honest, Terry wished she would bother him more. Come over more, show up to more games, and stay on the phone a little later when he called under the guise of missing notes from class, knowing the only thing he missed was her voice. He scooched closer to her, leaving a sliver of space between them. "So, I think you're the breadwinner in this scenario. Sixty-thousand a year ain't half bad. You must be a professor or something. Talkin' them students' heads off, I'm sure."

"Shut up," Patrice laughed as she elbowed his side. "You aren't far behind! Your $45k gets us to a combined $105k. That's more money than I've ever seen."

Her compliment of his pretend income pulled a closed-mouth smile from Terry. "Yeah, well, how do we spend it? Says here we need to budget our combined monthly income between bills, discretionary spending, and savings." Quick mental math helped him tally their post-tax income. "That's $3,204 bi-weekly. Just under $7000 a month. I think we can handle that."

"Let's start with housing and work from there?"

"I'm following your lead."

One hour of hard work and bickering netted the play couple one outcome they could agree on. Terry thought it'd be best for them to choose a modest three-bedroom dwelling with a low mortgage to fit their housing needs and free up funds for two cars. Though Patrice wanted a bigger backyard for her garden, she relented when her mate pointed out she'd get the better car and a summer vacation if they were wise with their monthly spending. One night out a week, $500 a month in "fun funds," and a strict savings schedule left them more than enough money in their reserve to consider children in their plan.

Brain fog stemming from a quietly growling belly made Patrice stretch her arms high about her head and whine. "Can we take a break? I'm a little hungry."

"I can make you something!" Hearing the extra eagerness in his own voice felt like a punch to the throat for Terry. Embarrassment had him scaling back to save face. "It's just a PB&J. You don't want me using the stove. Or you can wait 'til my mom gets home. She usually does crawfish on the weekends."

"Shoot, let's do both! I've never had crawfish before."

Not ever having crawfish was a cardinal sin in Terry's household. If his parents found out Patrice had been living a life without experiencing their family specialty, she'd be forced to camp out until every piece of corn, sausage, potato, and crustacean was consumed. Terry logged the reference in the back of his mind for later use as he made his way into the kitchen.

While Terry focused on the even spreads of peanut butter and jelly on his mama's "good" bread, Patrice took her time mosying around the large living room to acquaint herself with her surroundings.

Expensive trinkets and books she'd never read lined the cubby spaces on one side of their large wooden entertainment center. On the other, family photos told the Richmond family's story. At the top, Mr. and Mrs. Richmond posed in formal attire with big smiles to celebrate what Patrice assumed was their wedding day. Another shelf featured photos of twin girls with encased baby booties in the middle. She smiled at their big afro puffs and chocolate-covered faces while they enjoyed dessert at Disney World. Then, she spotted it. Perched on a stack of photo albums, a little boy decked in Spider-Man gear from head to toe stretched himself in the hero's signature squat. But those eyes were unmistakable. Little Terrence was clearly on a mission to save the world. Or his backyard, at the very least.

In awe of how cute Terry looked as a kid playing make-believe, Patrice reached out to grab the frame for a closer look. That was him, alright. Terry still had the same toothy grin that crinkled his nose at the bridge and made his eyes close from the rise of his cheeks. Ears too big for his body stood out even more than they did ten years later. He may have been smaller in stature and much more upbeat than the brooding teenager in the other room, but after a year of friendship and a little secret pining, she could recognize him anywhere.

Immersion disarmed Patrice's senses, giving Terry ample space and opportunity to sneak up on her. "That's funny?" His voice cut through the silence, making Patrice jump and turn to catch the sly smile on his face. "That was my fifth birthday. I can't remember why I didn't get a party, but I guess I still had fun that day."

"It's cute," Patrice complimented. "I didn't know they made masks for little kids with adult-sized heads."

Payback from her jab tasted perfectly sweet on her tongue, like her Nana's homemade apple pie. Patrice watched Terry roll his eyes and shake his head before pulling the glass photo frame from her hands and placing it back in its rightful spot.

He pretended to laugh along before kissing his teeth. "Come get this sandwich before I change my mind, girl."

Terry would never change his mind, no matter how hard he tried to pretend or fight back the smile revealing his top row of teeth. Patrice had a free license to pick with him, and, on occasion, he'd join in to further solidify their friendship.

Lighthearted rounds of the dozens meandered into winding conversions dominated by Patrice's favorite secret chatterbox. He ran through team drama a mile a minute, only taking breaks to chew and ask her intentions for the remaining pretzels on her plate. She granted him permission to clean up her portion and his if it meant he'd keep talking.

"So, you like orange?" His abrupt change in subject turned Patrice's passive listening into active confusion. He pointed at the scrunchie on her wrist to clarify. "The color, I mean. I noticed you wear it all the time. I was just wondering if it's your favorite."

Patrice fiddled with the ponytail holder, looking for anything to keep her from making eye contact with Terry. Knowing she was being watched excited and terrified her with equal intensity. "Um, yeah. It is."

"How come?"

"I don't know, really. I think because of how the sky turns orange when the sun's going down in the summertime. That's always been pretty to me." Terry committed the information to memory with a quick head nod, letting awkward silence scream into Patrice's ear until she forced out a follow-up question. "What about you? What's your favorite color?"

Terry thought for a moment. "Blue, mostly. But like Carolina blue. If you get too dark, it's like the Patriots, and I hate the Patriots."

"Dang. Soooo, no tickets to see Tom Brady for our fun money, huh?"

"Well, I ain't say all that!"

Stomach-busting laughter derailed all thoughts of returning to the second half of their assignment. Instead, they chose to take a nose dive into each other's likes, dislikes, and anything in between. Terry had to know Patrice's birthday for…research purposes.

She scribbled the date on his mother's wall calendar. "April 23rd, remember? Shakespeare's birthday!"

Fitting. Terry stored the date away in the section of his brain reserved for important things like stats and Lil Wayne lyrics for good this time.

"What's your favorite food?"

"My maman's étoufée," Terry answered, whistling from the memory of last Thanksgiving. "I can't wait to go visit next month!"

How Patrice wished to visit with him and experience even the smallest taste of the dish, brightening his smile more than she'd ever seen before.

Back and forth they went while time morphed into more of an abstract concept than a rule governing the physical world. Terry's favorite film? Remember the Titans. An obvious answer for obvious reasons, but Patrice loved to hear his explanation anyway. Patrice's plans for her future career? A teacher, high school English more specifically. And, if she found the time, she'd get her PhD and teach other teachers how to teach one day. Her commitment to learning and school was admittedly odd to Terry, but still, he found her passion for it magnetic.

In their own world, Patrice and Terry were free to be themselves in every imperfect way. Nothing was too nerdy or too weird to discuss. And, if it got close, they knew to keep each other's secrets.

Gathering plates for cleanup, Terry rattled off his umpteenth question. "What's your middle name? Wait! Can I guess?" Patrice smiled and pushed for him to take his best shot. "You look like a Nicole."

"No way! How'd you guess that?"

"Every Black girl's middle name is Nicole. Or Marie. It was a 50/50 chance."

"It was a 50/50 chance," Patrice mocked before kissing her teeth. "What's yours? Michael?"

Terry smirked at her attempt to get him back. "Nope. It's James. Me and my dad have the same one."

"I guess that's kinda cool." Curiosity turning the wheels in Patrice's head robbed her of seeing Terry trying to hide his smile and reddening ears from her view. "Do people ever call you TJ, or is it always Terrence or Terry?"

Hardly anyone called him Terrence. His full first name was his mother's go-to when he was in trouble. In school, teachers faithfully called him what existed on the roll sheet. But, those closest to his heart knew him as Terry and nothing else. The divide between Terrence and Terry was his way of telling friends from foes. TJ, though, was new and interesting.

Thinking for a couple of seconds yielded no results. "Nah, I don't think so. You can have dibs if I give you one."

Decisions decisions. Alternate names gifted by little boys never went well for Patrice. Four Eyes, Girl Urkel, and Stilts still haunted her well past elementary and middle school. The potential fallout from another botched nicknaming debacle wouldn't deter her from having something special between them.

"Fine," Patrice relented, grumbling enough to pull a laugh from Terry. "But nothing about my physical appearance. Or food-related. Or downright mean. Or Pat. I hate Pat."

Her heavy southern twang exaggerated all of her demands, eliciting a laugh from Terry as he shook his head. "You know, usually, people don't get that much say in their nicknames. It's kinda the whole point."

"Yeah, well, this ain't one of them time, so tread lightly."

Terry lifted his hands in surrender, not wanting to squander his opportunity to deepen their connections. If rules existed around what he could and could not call her, so be it. "What about…P," he prosed after a few seconds. "Short and simple."

"And unfortunately already taken by my mama. Try again."

"Patty? Like LaBelle. Y'all both kinda mean but in a cool, old lady way."

Patrice's annoyed eye roll sharply contrasted with Terry's impish grin. Payback was officially his again.

"Terry, I swear! Be serious!"

Relenting, he tossed out another option. "Okay, okay," he laughed. "For real this time. How does Treece sound? Just the second part of your name." Terry watched her mull over the idea, his smile growing when she offered no immediate rebuttal. He nudged her shoulder and smiled when she forced a sour expression. "Nah, you like it! Treece! Treecey! Big Treece!"

Listening to Terry rattle off variations of her newly minted nickname, the sound from his lips sounding like her mother asking who wants a second helping of ice cream or Usher singing to her and her alone through her radio's speakers.

"You know we sound like twins now, right? TJ and Treece?"

"That's what we should name the kids."

Missing context caused an invisible record to scratch, forcing Terry to quickly correct himself. Kids? They'd just reached good friend status. Patrice opened her mouth to question Terry, but he beat her to the punch with an explanation.

He emphatically waved his hands in front of him, trying to sweep the misstep into the ether. "For the project! I meant kids for the project!"

"Right!" The project. Duh. Patrice tried to recover cooly from what she was sure looked like utter panic with a dash of hopefulness on her face. "The kids from the project. Which –"

"We should get back to. It's gettin' late. Unless you stayin' for crawfish tonight?"

Dancing eyebrows and an irresistible grin slowly turned a firm no into a maybe before Patrice could stop her lips from moving.

She sighed, giving in to the barely there push of peer pressure. "I'll call and ask my mom," she grumbled. "Is the phone in the living room, TJ?"

"By the couch, Treece."

Special names reserved for private use added another layer to a friendship blossoming by the day. Terry stood in the kitchen for a second longer to try out Patrice's new moniker alone, flexing different inflections and how it sounded next to his. Treece and Terry. Terry and Treece. Treece Ellis. Treece Richmond.

The last one earned a few repeats until Patrice's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"No luck on crawfish, TJ! I've got to leave to babysit my brother tonight!" she hollered from the other room. “Come on so we can finish! We gotta get one of these kids on paper and budget for their Spider-Man birthday party!"

Terry chuckled and shook his head. She'd never let him live that down. "Alright. I'm coming. You're a real demanding wife, you know that?" he shouted back with a smile.

Treece Richmond. He could get used to that one.

—————-

Reply if you'd like to be tagged in future work!

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @blackmoonchilee @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @writingsbytee @teddybeerz @trippyscotch @theogbadbitch @ghostfacekill-monger @nyifly22

#aaron pierre #terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge

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ngage2003 · 2 months ago

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Marble Hornets is a series that I would say largely doesn't have plot holes, and this is honestly mostly due to the fact that they never specify much, but that being said though, there is a massive one that often goes unnoticed in the fandom, and happens to intersect with one of my favorite things as a Marble Hornets Scholar—the actual ages of our colorful cast of characters.

"Gage!" You might be crying right about now. "But we don't know the specific ages of any of the characters!" And that is where you're wrong.

We can estimate the ages of at least three characters in the Marble Hornets cast, and there is a clear problem therein.

Alex is the easiest, where we are blatantly told he was born in 1986, on April 4th.⁽¹⁾ This would mean during the filming of Marble Hornets he would 19 or 20 years old, and probably the latter since a film project like he was undertaking would probably be closer to a summative than early in the year.

Additionally, his age would probably mean he is in his second year of college, provided he didn't take a gap year.

This is actually further backed up by the fact that we know Brian is a third year in college.⁽²⁾ This is something specifically highlighted on the Marble Hornets website under the Cast tab as if its out of the ordinary, meaning the rest of the cast are probably in their second year if I had to guess.

This puts everyone's ages at probably around 19-20 in 2006.

Easy, yeah?

But then comes the topic of Tim, that being that we can actually estimate his age due to another factor, his medical records from Entry 60.5.

During a hospital visit on December 20th 1995, it is stated that Tim has completed or is in his 2nd year of education.⁽³⁾ And at that time Tim weighs 21 kg and is 107 centimeters tall, which translates to 46.297 pounds and 42.126 inches, which are either on the extreme low side of healthy for an eight year old boy, or moderately healthy for a 7 year old boy.⁽⁴⁾⁽⁵⁾

For those not in the know, the age for 2nd graders is 7-8 years old, and the age for 3rd is 8-9.

And that is the issue. Because that would mean that in fall of 2005-early 2006, Tim would be either 18 or even 17, and maybe not even realistically graduated from highschool, as his birthday is June 19th⁽⁶⁾ meaning it would still only have been 10 birthdays rather than 11 between then and the recording of Marble Hornets.

It goes without saying that this is a massive discrepancy, and probably an unintentional one because if Brian's being a third year was being highlighted, then this definitely would have been in my opinion—especially if this was for Alex's class presumably as a second year.

There is just little to no time for Brian and Tim to realistically meet and become friends if this is his age, or for Tim to even attend college, seeing as he was probably fresh out of the mental health institution and probably didn't even have the right credentials to go.

It is a mindboggling misstep, and in my opinion is one that should be totally discounted in any fan project, but is a blatant hole in the lore of Marble Hornets.

Tim is simultaneously a second year at college and 17-18. Marble Hornets has pocket dimensions of time apparently.

Thanks for reading.

(1) "Alex Kralie, born April 4th 1986," (https://web.archive.org/web/20150425230637/http://www.marblehornets.com/castcrew.html) (2) "Brian has been attending the university for three years, and is hoping to graduate after his next couple of semesters," (https://web.archive.org/web/20150425230637/http://www.marblehornets.com/castcrew.html) (3) There is some information that is filled in improperly on the record of Tim's hospital visit, such as the question, "Have you been hospitalized at our facility in the past 7 days" being answered with "No" despite the fact that Tim was very much hospitalized. It is in this same assessment where the question, "Last grade in school attended" is answered with "2," and due to the fact some stuff has been filled out kinda awkwardly, I think its debatable if that means he is in second grade or completed it. (4) (https://childrenswi.org/medical-care/adolescent-health-and-medicine/issues-and-concerns/adolescent-growth-and-development/normal-growth) (5) (https://www.nationwidechildrens.org/conditions/health-library/normal-growth) (6) Confirmed by Tim Sutton in the 3rd Cast Commentary at 1:07:28. (https://youtu.be/Z6FJvU651Sw?t=4044) Thank you @unholyslasher for helping me pinpoint that!

#tim wright #mh tim wright #marble hornets #ng.txt #ng.mh #ng.analysis

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marksmelodies · 2 years ago

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forever only

idol eric x fem reader

genre: angst, smut, fluff

warnings: suggestive, mentions of sex, unprotected sex, lots of kissing

note: if you haven’t watched eric’s LA vlog on theboyz youtube channel you definitely should before reading this since it’s heavily based on that!

minors dni

—————————————————————————

walking out of your apartment in los angeles you head to your favorite cafe down the street, walking through the door hearing the bell chime as you enter, you order your coffee and sit at a table finishing up some work for college. fall semester just started and it was always the most stressful but this time around you didn’t sign up for many classes making the workload a lot easier to handle

you could finally focus on dance a little more which is your passion ever since you could walk your parents put you in dance and you absolutely flourished. now a college student you spend most of your time teaching dance classes, mostly hip hop because that was more of your style

as you work on your computer with your headphones on you hear a text message notification go off, ignoring it you continue with your work, until it goes off again, you check your phone to see a message from an unknown number

unknown #: hey y/n, it’s been a long time, i hope you’re doing well! i just wanted to let you know that i will be in LA for a few days this week with my group, if you aren’t busy tomorrow, i’m having a get together with miles at my place to meet my members you should come too

unknown #: oh this is eric by the way

your heart immediately drops as a state of nausea washes over your body “ god damn it miles” you cuss under your breath as you call him

“ yo what’s up” he answers the phone

“ you’ve got to be kidding me” you sigh

“ what’s wrong with you?” he asks

“ what’s wrong with me? oh i don’t know maybe what’s wrong with me is i just got a text from eric.. eric sohn” you whisper yell over the phone as you exit the cafe to get some fresh air

“ oh yeah i gave him your number” he laughs

“ why, why would you do that” you yell

“ he asked about you, he wants to see you again y/n” miles sighs

“ i don’t understand why you would give him my phone number after the whole reason why i got a new one was to avoid him”

“ listen y/n it’s been years, don’t you think it’s time to see him again, he asks about you all the time and i’m tired of making up excuses to why you avoid him, he hasn’t been back to los angeles since he left freshman year and the first thing he asked me is if he can possibly see you again while he’s here” miles says

you feel the tears begin to pull from your eyes

“ it’s just really hard for me miles, you don’t think i want to see him too? i want nothing more than to see him again, to see how far he’s come, but i don’t know if my heart is ready for that”

“ i know, but it’s been years maybe it’s time to truly move on and hopefully seeing him can give you enough closure to do so” he says

“ yeah maybe your right” a long pause comes from you before you speak again

“ i’ll go tomorrow” you say

“ good, i’m glad to hear that, everything will be okay i promise” he says, after hanging up the phone you walk back into the cafe packing up your stuff and heading back home,as you sit on the bed looking at the message eric sent you finally get the courage to respond

“ sounds great i’ll be there” you text back before shutting your phone off

you and eric met in middle school, he was popular due to his talent in baseball, all the girls obsessed over him, not you though at least not at first,you had biology class together and eventually got assigned to do a project with one another, after that you two became inseparable, eric introduced you to your now best friend miles and the three of you became the friend group that everyone wanted to be apart of

as time went on you started to have a little crush on eric, that crush only got bigger and bigger as you two got older, eric felt the same way about you, although eric had been in total awe the second he laid his eyes on you for the first time, the more he got to know you the more he fell in love, the summer going into your eighth grade year eric confessed his feelings to you and you confessed back

your relationship with eric was very lighthearted, a simple middle school fling, acting the same way towards eachother as you did when you were just friends maybe with the benefit of hand holding but that was it, to everyone’s surprise you both made it over a year which was super long for a middle school relationship, but you and eric were truly in love and a lot of people underestimated your feelings for each other

you remember the day that eric told you he was leaving to move to korea to pursue his dreams , you were heartbroken but being the supportive person you were you didn’t let him see how sad you were about it, you gave him all the best wishes and the two of you split up on good terms, you both knew it was impossible to continue this relationship when you would be across the world from each other

that wasn’t the last time you saw eric though, once you became a senior in high school you and your dance team got invited to a dance workshop in seoul south korea, of course the universe just had to mess with you because during your trip you ran into him while visiting the han river late one night, one thing led to another and you ended up hooking up with him that night.. and the next morning…in full retrospect the intimate moments you shared with him during that trip was amazing but after you left it made you feel like shit, you kept in contact with eachother for a few months after you saw him but eventually the text messages became less frequent and then just stopped all together, it was your own fault letting him break your heart for the second time, you got your own hopes up, you couldn’t blame him for his inconsistency, you saw how busy his life had become, how hard he worked everyday without a break.

but selfishly you wished sometimes that he would have stayed in LA, become a college student like yourself and the two of you could be together again, maybe even be on the road to getting married and building a life together, you knew that was never in the cards for him, he was meant to be an idol there was no doubt about it but every so often you find yourself thinking about an alternate reality, one where the two of you could be together for good

that night was rough on you, tossing and turning over all the possibilities that could come out of the events of tomorrow, being honest with yourself you don’t even know how you’re going to look him in the eyes without falling in love with him all over again. as if you got over him in the first place, which newsflash.. you never did

waking up in the morning was hard, your alarm blared in your ears as you crawled out of bed. you spent most of the day mentally preparing yourself to see eric again, miles had arrived not too long ago as you were getting yourself ready

“ does this look too slutty” you say doing a turn in your bikini for your best friend

“ no you look good, hurry up though we’re going to be late” he says. quickly throwing on a minidress as a coverup you both leave your place as you head over to eric’s house

“ are you nervous” miles asks noticing your leg shaking up and down as you sit in the passenger seat

“ yeah i am, i feel like im going to throw up everywhere” you respond, finally pulling up to eric’s place you can hear the music playing and some faint yelling coming from the pool

getting out of the car you walk through the back gates to the pool area, standing behind miles trying to shield yourself from the sight of eric. that didn’t work “ miles, y/n, over here” eric waved the two of you down

walking over to the big canopy and a large table filled with a ton of korean dishes you finally stand there in front of eric for the first time in a long time, eric walks up to miles dabbing him up and then turning to you, he smiles at you pulling you into a hug “ im glad you made it y/n it means a lot that you’re here” he says

his familiar scent fills your nostrils causing you to gain a wave of nostalgia, pulling away you flash a tight lipped smile at him. “ guys this is my best friend miles and this is my friend y/n” eric says hesitating on the word friend, his members all smile and wave as you both do the same back

you sit next to miles during dinner, thankfully eric is across the table filming a vlog for the groups youtube channel, once dinner was finished everyone decided to go swimming

setting your stuff down on a chair you begin to take your dress off leaving you in nothing but a tiny bikini, you felt eyes on you, turning around eric’s eyes met yours before he turned away quickly trying not to make it obvious that he was staring at you

“ hey” eric walks up to you “ hey” you respond back looking to the ground “ im sorry if it’s awkward seeing me again” he says itching the back of his neck

“ no it’s fine it’s not awkward” you say completely lying. “ i missed having you around you know” eric says looking into your eyes “ yeah i missed you too” you say as you feel your heart beating out of your chest

he looked so good with nothing but his swim trunks on, his toned upper body out for display. “ let’s go in the pool yeah?” he asks

“ yeah i just have to put my hair up” you say to him as he gives you a look

“ you never changed have you” he laughs “ you’re going to get your hair wet regardless” he rolls his eyes at you

“ fine whatever” you say leaving your hair down

you walk with him to the deep end of the pool, everyone is already in but the two of you, “okay let’s jump in together on the count of three ready..one.. two… three..” eric counts, you had planned to pretend to jump in that way eric would have been the only one to actually jump but eric had the same idea as you

you both laugh as eric approaches you “ no eric don’t” you yell before he pushes you into the pool

quickly swimming up to the surface of the water you put your hand out to eric “ what the hell eric, at least help me out” you yell as eric grabs your hand. before he could pull you up you yank your arm back pulling him into the water with you

“ i should’ve saw that coming” he says laughing

“ i can’t believe you fell for that” you laugh

joining the others in a game of water spikeball miles makes eye contact with you smirking as you and eric continuously flirt with each other

“ that was a point” you yell to eric

“no it wasn’t” he yells back

“ yes it was” you splash water on him, he walks closer to you splashing you back before picking you up, eric lifts you up throwing you into the water, he swims over to you as you splash water in his face one last time “ that was mean” you say to him

he tucks a strand of lose hair behind your ear “so pretty” he whispers, the two of you now inches away from each other, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him right then and there but before anything could happen one of eric’s members yells for him to come join in the game again

eventually you get out of the pool, feeling tired from the continuous swim races that eric challenged you to even though you beat him every time. eric approached you sitting on one of the chairs “ come back in” he whines

“ no i’m tired of swimming” you say looking up at him “please y/n i’ll carry you” he says. you nod your head yes, knowing you could never say no to him “ sure” you say walking to the steps of the pool

all the guys had gotten out and were now inside the house talking to eachother, leaving just you and eric alone together in the pool. it had gotten dark, the sun was long gone, the pool light shined as you swam over to eric wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, he looks down at you smiling as he places one of his arms around your waist and the other on your ass to hold you up, you knew it was wrong, you knew that you shouldn’t be doing this but when it came to eric all of your sense left your brain and you begin to think with your heart instead

you lay your head on his shoulder as he carries you to the deep end sitting down on the ledge “ i meant what i said earlier, i really missed you pretty girl” eric whispers

“ i meant when i said i missed you too” you say lightly kissing the side of his neck. he rubs his hand up and down your back as the other rubs your thigh, taking your head off of his shoulder looking up at him, both of your eyes locking , you feel butterflies in your stomach as eric moves closer and closer until finally his lips are on yours

the kiss was passionate, you both had been waiting for this moment for a long time, he moves in closer holding the side of your face as one of your hand reaches into his hair while the other is pressed against his chest, you softly moan into the kiss as eric moves your bottoms to the side before entering his finger into your pussy without breaking the kiss

“ fuck eric” you moan noticing his eyes are now darker than they were before “ you’re so tight baby, when’s the last time you had sex” he asks kissing your neck “ the last time was with you” you say looking at him, eric smiles at the thought of no one else fucking you but him

he enters another finger into you causing you to moan loudly before eric covers your mouth with his other hand “ shh babygirl they can still hear you over the music, you don’t want anyone to hear us do you?” he says as he fucks you with his fingers “ fuck eric i’m gonna cum” you whine, he stops thrusting his fingers in you “ fuck yourself on my fingers baby” he says kissing your head, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten as you ride his fingers “ cum for me love” eric says, you throw your head back letting yourself ride out your climax releasing onto his fingers, you moan as your body begins to shake “ good girl” eric kisses your lips once again before letting you catch your breath as he fixes your bathing suit

getting out of the pool you notice eric’s dick poking out of his pants “ i feel bad let me help you” you say as he looks down at you “ i’ll be okay for now, i think somone will come looking for us if we’re out here any longer” he chuckles palming his boner

the sliding glass door opens “ hey we’re going start up a game of football if you wanna join” miles says poking his out of the door “ okay we’ll be right there” eric responds drying himself off as you do the same

sitting in the grass you watch majority of the guys play football, kevin and jacob walk up next to you as you invite them to sit down “ im finally meeting the girl eric won’t ever shut up about” kevin says looking to you

“ really he talks about me?” you ask

“ literally all the time” jacob responds

it goes quiet for a moment before kevin speaks again “ the two of you have chemistry you know?” he says. “ yeah we all could sense it the moment you got here” jacob adds

you sigh “ yeah that’s how it is with eric and i, no matter how long we go without talking to each other the moment we’re together we act as if we’re magnets constantly gravitating towards one another”

“ i haven’t seen eric this happy in a while” jacob states

“ yeah i’ve never seen him so in love” kevin says

“ you think he’s still in love with me?” you ask

“ oh we know he’s still in love with you” they both reassure you

“ i never stopped loving him you know, i did everything to avoid him, to stop thinking about him and look where it led me” you laugh looking over at eric who was running with the football in his hands

“ i think you should tell him that, he’s been beating himself up a lot about still being hooked on you all these years later” jacob says quickly stopping the conversation as eric approaches you

he sits down next to you pulling you into a hug “ ew eric get off of me your all sweaty” you yell pushing him off of you as he laughs hysterically, kevin and jacob smile at the sight of you both as you get up running away from eric as he tries to wipe his sweat on you. eventually capturing you in his arms eric throws you over his shoulder as you kick and scream pleading him to let you down

you are now all in front of the big tv everyone spread across the living room watching a horror movie, eric laid behind you on the couch as his arms wrapped around your waist, legs tangled together, at this point everyone had caught on that you and eric weren’t just “friends” miles smiles at the two of you cuddled on the couch. throughout the movie you and eric scream every so often hugging eachother tightly, everyone laughing at how scared you two are. as the move comes to an end eric moves closer to your face “ spend the night” eric whispers into your ear, “ okay” you say turning around placing a soft kiss to his lips

everyone except eric says goodbye to you and miles before leaving to go back to their hotel “ you ready to head out” miles asks you, you look at him before speaking “ um actually i think im gonna spend the night here with eric” you say to him, he lets out a big sigh before speaking again “ you know what’s going to happen if you do that right?” he asks as you nod your head yes

“ are you okay with having sex with him and then being thousands of miles away from each other again when he leaves, look i’m not going to tell you what to do with your life but this is exactly what happened last time” miles says

“ i don’t know what to tell you miles, im in love with him, im going to have alot more regret if i don’t spend every minute that i can with him before he leaves” you tell him. he pulls you into a hug “ you know i just care about you” he says before walking over to say his goodbyes to eric

“ i need to shower i feel gross” you say as he laughs bringing you up to his room, you and eric both shower together, it wasn’t in a sexual way but more of a romantic moment between to two of you, his hands roam your body as he washes your hair giving you kisses here and there as you do the same to him

as the two of you get out and dry off you feel eric’s naked body hug you from behind, his hard cock poking your back while he kisses your neck as you watch him in the mirror, feeling the warmth between your legs you can tell you’re getting wet for him “ i need you” you moan

that was all he needed to hear before picking you up and throwing you on the bed, leaning over you he hooks his mouth to one of your boobs while playing with the other, leaving open mouth kisses to your body, you trace his abs as you look into his eyes letting him know that you’re growing impatient, eric chuckles before kissing your lips, after spreading your legs eric drags his tip over your clit a few times causing you to whimper before lining his cock up with you as he slowly sides himself into your hole

“ oh my god eric” you choke out, as he stays still for a moment letting you get used to his size “ you’re so tight love” he says before slowly thrusting into you “ faster” you moan clawing at his back, eric brings one hand up to your neck while the other one grips your waist as he rams himself into you“ fuck baby you’re so wet for me” he grunts

turning you over leaving you on all fours arching your back for him, he grabs a handful of your hair before ramming into you once again causing you to scream when he hits your g spot “ you’re taking me so well babygirl, i’m so proud of you” he says as grab onto the sheets tears streaming down your face“ i’m coming” you moan as you squeeze around him, your hips shake repeatedly hinting that you had finished, “ good girl” he says flipping you around again once again placing your legs in his shoulders as he chases his own high, squeezing around him once again his thrusts become sloppy and rushed as he whimpers “ shit i’m coming” he says looking to you “ oh fuckkkk” he says moaning as you feel warm strings of him cum shoot into you, he stays inside of you as he wipes away your tears giving you multiple pecks on the lips “ you did so well for me baby, made me feel so good” he says pulling out of you watching his cum leak from your pussy as he used his fingers to push it back in causing moans to slip out form your mouth

the two of you weren’t even close to being done for the night, you went multiple rounds from having you on top riding him to him eating you out and then fucking you in front of the bathroom mirror, you both went at it, making up for lost time

the last round however was different, seeing you so fucked out made eric want to do nothing but be gentle with you, he layed you down on your stomach as he laid on top of you slowly thrusting into your pussy as he played with your hair, kissing on your shoulders “ as much as i love fucking you until you can’t walk nothing will ever beat making love to you” he whispers in your ear as you arch your back a little bit still lying down, his hands roam your body as he praises you “ you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever laid my eyes on” he carefully turns you over to look at your face

you wrap your legs around his torso as your hands play with his hair slowly and gently moving his length in and out of you“ i love you so much y/n” he says caressing your cheek, you look up at him “ i love you too eric” you say as he leans in to kiss you gently

after he came in you for the last time he cleaned you up putting the covers over your body before getting in bed with you, scooping you up into his arms he places a kiss on your forehead while gently rubbing your back “ eric?” you mumble into his chest “ yes sweet girl?”

“ did you mean what you said earlier about loving me” you ask looking up at him, he smiled before kissing your lips “ of course i did, i’ve loved you since i first laid my eyes on you, and i never stopped” he said raking his hands through your hair, you smile at his answer “ good because i never stopped loving you either”

a silence washed over the both of you until you spoke again “ eric?” you ask once more he chuckles at you “ yes sweet girl” repeats himself you stop and think about the question you’re going to ask “ is this the last time we’re going to see each other” your voice begins to tremble as your tears begin to fall onto his naked chest

“ oh sweetheart come here” he says pulling you up more so that your head in is in the crook of his neck as he rubs your back, “ look at me” he says as you sit up, eric places both of his hands on your cheeks wiping away your tears

“ i promise to do everything in my power to make sure that we see eachother a lot more often” he says before pulling you back into his chest as you begin to cry harder, “ i just never want to repeat what happened last time” you say trying to calm yourself down “ it won’t i’ll make sure of it” he says

“ im so sorry i stopped answering your calls and your messages, i just felt like i was holding you back on so many levels,i never wanted you to hold you back from finding love with someone who would be there for you way more than i could’ve” eric feels his eyes build up with tears, trying his best to hold them back, but he couldn’t causing him to break down, you lift your head up off of his chest when you feel eric’s body shake with his sobs

“ oh my god eric” you coo, the sight of the boy you had known since you were fourteen breaking down in front of you made you sob again along with him

eric had always been an emotional person, but around you he never showed that side of himself, for all the years of knowing you he was always the one wiping your tears not the other way around

you sit up placing his head to your chest letting him sob in the crook of your neck this this time. “ i don’t want to lose you again, i don’t think i can handle it this time” he says in between sobs. “ you won’t lose me eric i promise, if i start taking online courses for school i can visit you all the time and once i get my degree we can talk about me moving to korea” his head shoots up off of your chest “ y/n i cant ask you to leave everything and everyone you love behind just for me” he says, you shush him “ you’re not asking, i’m offering, eric i would move anywhere if it meant i get to be with you”

“ you would do that for me, leave everything you’ve ever know behind, move somewhere completely different on the other side of the world.. just for me” he asks. you chuckle at him before kissing his lips that taste like salt due to his tears

“ i would do it in a heartbeat” you say. as the two of you calmed down you lay back on his chest staring at the ceiling “ have you ever thought about our future together, like getting married and having kids” you ask looking to him, he looks down at you “ i think about it a lot actually, i think about how i would propose and what our wedding would be like, how beautiful you would look walking down the isle in your white dress, i think about how sexy you would be with the baby i put in your belly, how hot you would look waddling around pregnant with our child, you would make a hot mom by the way” he laughs

“ how about you? do you think about our future?” he asks raising his eyebrow “all the time, i think about marrying you a lot more than id like to admit, i think about having kids with you, i even think about you doing the sexy dad walk out of the hospital with our baby” you laugh

“ i promise one day we’ll get to experience all of that together”eric says before placing another kiss to your lips, he pauses before opening his mouth again to speak

“will you be my girlfriend again, this time for good” eric asks

“of course my love, i would love nothing more” you reply giving him one last kiss

“ goodnight i love you so much y/n”

“ goodnight eric i love you more”

you went to sleep peacefully that night, even though eric was leaving the next morning you felt content with his departure for the first time, you felt really confident in your relationship this time around, you knew you both were serious about doing anything and everything to be together as much as you could

you would have never believed that the boy you met in your middle school biology class would end up being the one you plan on sharing the rest of your life with, but here you are all these years later, that boy is now a man laying in your arms after a long night of making love to each other, your naked bodies tangled together as he lets out small snores, holding each other close promising to never let go again

—————————————————————————

i know i usually only write for nct but recently eric has been on my mind a lot so i needed to write for him hehe, i hoped you enjoyed <3

#youngjae #the boyz #eric sohn smut #eric sohn #eric sohn fluff #eric sohn fic #the boyz fanfic #the boyz fluff #the boyz fic #the boyz x reader #eric sohn x reader #eric sohn imagines #youngjae x reader #the boyz angst #the boyz smut #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz suggestive

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eden-axe · 1 month ago

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Stressed Mess

Sylus x gn! non!MC college student

I wrote this after I finished all my work for the semester and now I’m finally graduating! So its more a celebration/ birthday comfort fic for myself lmao.

Summary: Y/n is stressed about all the college work they feel they are falling behind on, and Sylus cannot bare to watch them fall deeper and deeper into a spiral of hopelessness.

Word count: 1015

You’re sitting at your desk after a long day of handling errands for class, with having to buy supplies for a small project, and going shopping for groceries for yourself in your own apartment; and now you are at Sylus’ place staying in the spare office room he set up for you, working on college work that you feel like you should have finished ages ago. For the past 4 hours you managed to do a lot of work, yet all that work feels like just a drop in the bucket as the clock slowly ticks closer to midnight. You had already finished doing practice quizzes, taking notes for those quizzes, and even finished a 10 page paper you had been slowly working on.

Yet despite all that work it still felt like it was not enough, cause you still had to submit a question and answer paper on a book you were very excited to read for class, even ranting about the contents of the book to Sylus, who read the book with you so you would keep up with your assignments; but now, you were just very tired and just wanted to go to bed, but you didn’t want to miss an assignment— you haven’t miss a deadline yet, and you were not planning on it being today.

You were so engrossed in trying to finish your work you did not hear Sylus enter the room, which despite his light footsteps, you always knew when he came home. When you did not acknowledge him, he looked at you with a slightly hurt look as your greetings from a mission were always his favorite part of his missions. But when he actually looked at you his faux hurt expression vanished and his eyebrows knitted together as he glanced at your face, eyes glazed over ready to either close from exhaustion, or tears spill over from the worries of your computer. Sylus wishes he could have run your errands, or at least made the twins do it, they would have been happy to use his black card for your sake, and themselves, but he had ‘work’ that he could not attend alone due to some people stirring up trouble in the N109, but you didn’t need to know all the details.

Sylus quickly stalks over to your desk and notices the snacks he left you were untouched, once hot slider sandwiches, now cold as he noted that it had been well over 4 hours since he had left them there steaming before giving you a quick kiss and leaving for work. He decided that both of you needed a break from your responsibilities, and turned your chair around and quickly picked you up and took his place where you once sat. You were now on his lap with your feet hanging off the armchairs.

Sylus gave you a small peek and asked, “What work you have left, sweetie? Maybe I can help a bit”

You lean against his chest and explain, “It’s just answering questions, you know from that one book we’ve been reading. You don’t have to worry though, I can handle it I’m—” Before you can finish Sylus puts a savory slider in front of you.

You look at him as you take the slider, his eyes are pleading at you like a kicked puppy, and any argument you did have died as you eat the small sandwich. You both hum in delight as the sandwich does taste good, and Sylus is just glad to see you eating.

“Now how about I read and write, and you just tell me the answers, so you don’t feel like you’re cheating. Hm?” You want to argue, you really do, but this honestly sounds like such a nice solution that you just hum in agreement.

It takes no more than 20 minutes for each question to be answered, and all the food is eaten. You then move so you are facing the computer, while still on Sylus’ lap, and reviews the answers and edits some of the answers to make it more ‘you sounding’ before Sylus submits the work for you as he shoos you away to go take a bath.

While you are sitting in the bath, Sylus is taking a quick shower of his own in a separate bathroom; when he gets out and changes before you leave the bath, he manages to get clothes for you and remakes his bed so it feels more comfortable and soft. When you still haven’t exited the bathroom connected to the bedroom he walks over with warm pajamas, and hears your cries before he even opens the door. When he hears you he quickly opens the door to see your head tilted back and a relaxed expression lay across your face. He places the clothes down on the closed toilet seat and kneels down next to the bath.

“Sweetie” his voice wavers, ever so subtly, “Are you alright, why the tears?”

You lazily open your eyes, and your face just melts into a smile as you stare at his flickering eyes, “I’m just glad.”

“Glad?”

You reach a wet hand out of the bath to stroke his cheek, “Yeah. I just feel like everything from school, to just life in general, it was all too much, ya know? I’m just so grateful you are always here Sylus. You’re always here right when I feel like I’m about to just break from all the stress.”

Sylus grabs your hand and kisses the palm, “Of course I will be here Sweetie. I will always make sure you can never break, and even if you do, I will always be here to help you put yourself back together.”

Sylus then leaves the bathroom so you can get changed, and the second you step out in nice warm clothes Sylus grabs you from behind and walks over to the bed tucks you both in. As Sylus hums gently, and slightly off key, both of your worries drift away as in his arm there are no assignments or enemies to stress over.

#love and deepspace #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus comfort #sylus fluff #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #EdenAxe writes

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cowgurrrl · 2 years ago

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Something in the Orange

Pairing: Joel Miller x art teacher!reader

Author's note: this might become a mini series idk idk

Summary: A parent-teacher conference leads to trouble [4.0k]

Warnings: no outbreak! au, teacher things, Ellie being a little loner, Joel the Menace making a return, Joel gets both his daughters in this one because it's what he deserves, flirty flirt, i think that's it???

You feel like you've been running a million miles a minute since you got in this morning. The second you could unlock the door, at least three students spilled into your room and chaotically ran to the kiln to collect their most recent pottery projects. One of them ended up shattering (the exact one you warned Colin about, but he didn't listen), and, as per high school custom, they were all screaming about it. You consoled the students just in time for your principal to walk by and ask about lesson plans which made you scramble through your backpack for your notebook even though you knew damn well there wasn't a single lesson plan in there. "Do you always have those lights on?" Principal Martinez asked, gesturing to the room's fairy lights and orange lamps. Leave it to administration to want to avoid art classrooms so much that they don't even know about the Big Light Philosophy.

Since then, it's been class after class. You only have one more period before your planning period and then, finally, the end of the day. There are a hundred things to do, but you can't focus on any of them. You got so caught up in managing your classroom and helping students with the hardest parts of their portfolio work that you almost forgot you had a parent meeting scheduled during your planning period.

Calling in parents for meetings about their children may be your least favorite part of your job. It makes you feel like a bad teacher, and parents usually don't feel great about getting called in on a workday to talk about their kid. Luckily, Ellie's dad, Joel, seemed more than happy to take time to talk about her. You rack your mind for his occupation as you add some detail to a canvas you've been hiding in your office and working on when you can. Was he a blue-collar worker? Or was he another stuck-up Austin transplant parent who's gonna accuse you of lying? He'd make the fifth parent who's made you cry this semester.

A knock on your locked door pulls you from your thoughts, and you quickly put away your painting before answering the door. "I told you she was in here!" One of your students, Dina, announces as she and a posse of three other kids you don't recognize push their way into the room. "Miss, you've gotta take that thing off your door; otherwise, people are gonna think you went home!"

"You mean the sign that says, 'planning period. Do not enter?'" You ask, and she snaps her fingers.

"That's the one." She says as she and her friends start putting their backpacks down at one of your high tables. You sigh and kick the door stopper into the threshold.

"You guys can't stay here. I have a meeting in five minutes."

"With who?"

"None of your business."

"Miss!" Dina acts wounded, and you cross your arms over your chest, your keys jingling around your neck in the process.

"I am an adult with a college degree and the debt to show for it. You are a teenager with a still-developing brain. You have to listen to me," you say. "Wait, whose class are you supposed to be in right now?"

"Mr. Flynn's."

"Guys!" You groan before walking over to your desk and quickly writing up a hall pass for them. "I know you don't like math-"

"No, we don't like Mr. Flynn." Dina cuts you off.

"Or math!" One of her friends adds, and you shoot them a (loving) disapproving look.

"Whatever you don't like, you can't keep hiding out here. Mr. Flynn is two seconds away from trying to get me fired for how often I let his kids in here during class, and I actually like this job, so," you rip the hall pass off the pad and hand it to Dina. As they pack their stuff up, a tall, bearded man steps into your classroom and makes eye contact with you. "Out, out, out! I love you. You're gonna change the world one day, but please get out." You blow them kisses as you usher them out of the room.

"Are you Ellie's art teacher?" He asks, a confused look on his face, and you nod.

"Yes, I am. Sorry about that. They're still figuring out that I have work to get done even when I don't have a class," you explain, a little breathless from running all over the place and getting caught off-guard. You really do try to act a little more professional with parents, but the kids threw you off. The kettle whistling behind your desk doesn't make it any better. "Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Tea?" You pick up a random mug off your desk but find it full of murky water. "Paint water?"

"Are you allowed to have an electric kettle in here?" He asks, and you laugh nervously as you find a clean mug and your tea box.

"I won't tell if you won't." You say. He stands there awkwardly as you pour yourself some tea, and you realize you didn't pull a chair up for him. "Um, we can sit..." you glance around your messy classroom until you find a clear table and gesture toward it. "Here." He follows your lead, and you take a deep breath as you sit down.

"You gonna be okay?" He asks, the hint of a smirk on his lips. His curly hair looks golden brown in the low light, and his round eyes have a little knowing twinkle. You take another breath to compose yourself and nod.

"Yes. Sorry. It's been a long day."

"Don't worry bout it. I'm sure they run you ragged."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Well, you do have paint in your hair." He says, and panic seizes in your chest. You're never more aware of how crazy your job can be until you meet Real Adults. Even if you can't remember what he does for a living, you still have to admit that you look a little silly next to each other: you, with your paint-stained sunflower dress and markered hands, and him, with his black shirt and jeans. He doesn't have any apparent stains or splatters on his clothes, but he's broad with thick biceps. He must work with his hands or something within that capacity. You clear your throat and try to get back on track with the meeting.

"Uh, so Mr. Miller, the reason I called you here today was to talk to you about Ellie," you start. "First, I just wanna say that she is an amazing student. She always does her work and engages thoughtfully with the material. I really do enjoy having her in class."

"Well, that's certainly good to hear. She talks a whole lot bout this class and you, so... it's nice to place a face to the name," he says, adjusting his position on the stool. "But I have a feelin' you didn't call me down here just to tell me how great my kid is."

"She is great. She's extremely talented, smart, and funny, but she spends more time in my classroom during lunch than anything else. I'm worried about her making friends and finding a community here at school. I've tried convincing her to join the art club, but she's hesitant. During class, she just sits with her headphones in and draws. She really doesn't like talking to anybody but me." You wait for blame to be assigned to you or get lectured, but it never comes. He just sighs, and he deflates a little in his chair.

"She's been through a lot this year. Well, her whole life, really, but 'specially recently," he says dejectedly. "What can I do for her?"

"There's an art show this Friday night here at the school. It'll all be student work from across the district. I thought if maybe you or... whatever adults she has at home came with her to this, she might feel more comfortable talking to her peers or even want to submit some of her own stuff."

"We can do that. I'll get off work early and ask her uncle if he wants to come," he's quick with his solution, and you're a little shocked. You rarely get parents, let alone fathers, who act this swiftly when something is going on with their kids. "Is there anythin' else goin' on that I should know bout?"

"Uh, no. Like I said, she's a great kid. You should be really proud." You say, and the concerned wrinkle between his eyebrows disappears with a proud smile.

"Thank you," he mumbles, suddenly shy. "And thanks for carin' so much bout her. It's nice to know she's got someone lookin' out for her here." You don't know what to say, so you just nod and stare at him. You know, like an idiot. It takes a chuckle from him to snap you out of your thoughts, and blood rushes to your cheeks.

"Yes, of course. She's a good kid." You say.

"You said that already."

"I bet you'd be a little scatterbrained if you were at the mercy of two hundred teenagers all day."

"You're absolutely right. I would be," he says, smirking devastatingly. "Someone ought to get you a coffee or somethin' if you're dealing with all that."

"People like you should go argue with the school board. I'm sure you'd be popular with all the teachers."

"That'd be a first. I think I might've been the least favorite parent for all of my girls' teachers."

"Well, I find that hard to believe."

"Yeah?" He asks, leaning forward just a little, and you nod, smiling. Your brain struggles to come up with something to say, and you're a little embarrassed at your silence, but luckily, your projector saves the day by buzzing loudly and making the picture on the board cut in and out. You mumble a quick apology before getting up and climbing up on a desk to jiggle a piece back into place. You hear Joel curse behind you, and when you turn to see what the problem is, you see him holding his arms out behind you. "Do you stand on desks often?"

"Only every day. I haven't fallen yet this year." You laugh at his exasperated expression and turn back to the projector. It's still making a weird noise, so you move it around a little more, moving the desk under your feet, and Joel stabilizes it with a sigh.

"How long has it been doin' that?"

"Couple months. I keep putting in maintenance requests, but nobody ever comes to fix it."

"I can fix it for ya," he says simply, and you look down at him. "I've got tools in my truck. It wouldn't take long at all."

"Really?" You ask, and he nods.

"It'd make me feel better knowin' you're not almost breakin' your neck every day."

"You mean, standing on a decades-old desk to mess with an ancient piece of equipment isn't OSHA compliant?"

"Please," he says, grabbing your ankle when the desk wobbles under you, and you laugh at his worry. "Let me fix it for you before you give me a heart attack." You think about declining and just putting in another work order, but the likelihood that anyone would actually come and fix it is slim to none. Plus, you really shouldn't be climbing on top of desks every day. You pretend to think it over for a few more seconds just to watch the worry play across his features as his grip on your ankle gets tighter.

"Only if you really mean it."

"I really mean it," he says, offering you his other hand. "Now, would you please get down?"

"Fine." You say and take his hand. You bend to safely get yourself down, but Joel moves his other hand from your ankle to your waist and basically hoists you to the ground. Once your feet touch the floor, he doesn't let you go immediately like he's trying to figure out if you somehow got hurt when he wasn't looking. There's a part of your brain that's aware of how inappropriate this would look to any passersby, but you're also highly aware of how warm his big hand is on your hip.

"Ya alright?" He asks softly, and you nod, taking a conscious step back from his arms.

"Yes, thank you."

"Good," he says, also taking a step back. "Let me go get my tools, and I'll get that fixed for you."

"Perfect. I'll be here." You stand there, staring at each other awkwardly, for another moment before he turns on his heels and walks out of the classroom. The second he's out of your line of sight, you bury your head in your hands and start silently freaking out.

What the fuck are you doing? How did a parent-teacher meeting turn into him hauling you off a desk and offering to fix your projector? Technically, nothing incriminating has happened, and it needs to stay that way. It doesn't matter if you think he's attractive or like how he worries about everything. He's Ellie's dad. Teachers have gotten fired for much less than this, and you're not willing to risk your career because of one guy.

When he gets back with his toolbox, you're sitting at your desk and sorting through assignments like a reasonable adult. He doesn't say anything as he climbs up on the same desk you were standing on and begins messing with the mechanics of the equipment. You each work in silence for a few minutes before a screw clatters to the ground, and he grumbles something under his breath. "Do you mind..." he starts, pointing toward the lost piece.

"Not at all." You cover your anxiety with your chipper teacher voice and search for the screw with your phone flashlight. You find it tucked between canvases, carefully pick it up, and walk over to where he's standing, waiting for him to be ready for it.

"It looks like it's just an old piece in here. I'm sure you can order a new one, and I can come back and install it if ya want," he explains, looking down at you. You probably look stupid just standing there with a tiny screw in your hand, but he doesn't laugh. "D'you mind handing me that tool to your right?" He asks, and you blindly reach for the tool you think he's talking about. "Your other right." He corrects, and you flush in embarrassment.

"Sorry. I never was a very good woodshop student." You say, and he laughs once he has the tool in hand.

"My girls are the same way. Just askin' ‘em to hold a flashlight while I work on their car is like pullin' teeth," he says fondly. "Speaking of which, is there a reason the lights aren't on in here?"

"The lamp light is less harsh, and it helps students focus. Plus, nobody likes coming into a bright classroom first thing in the morning." You explain, and he hums.

"If I'd had a teacher like you growing up, I would've been at school much more than I was."

"You didn't like school?"

"Hated it," he says, opening his hand for the screw. Once you drop the tiny thing into his large palm, he straightens up, and you can barely hear it going back into its rightful place. "'S a miracle I graduated."

"That was me in college."

"Now, I don't believe that for a second."

"Really?" You laugh, and he nods.

"Someone like you, with your pretty dresses and all that empathy, was meant to be a teacher."

"I wasn't always like this," you evade the compliment despite the butterflies in your stomach. "Being a teacher was never on my radar until I graduated. A lot of my life was never on my radar until then." He puts the hood of the projector back on and climbs down from the desk until he's standing in front of you again, wiping his hands on a red handkerchief from his toolbox.

"Well, with the way you carry yourself, I never woulda guessed." He says. He opens his mouth to say something more, but the sharp tone of the bell ringing cuts him off. You jump at the sound and look at the clock as if it were wrong.

"I'm so sorry. Time must've gotten away from me. Thank you so much again, Mr. Miller, for coming in to talk with me and looking at the projector. I hope to see you and Ellie on Friday." You say quickly as the sound of rowdy kids fills the hallway, and you hold your hand out to him. He takes it and squeezes it firmly.

"You can call me Joel. Mr. Miller makes me feel old." He says, and you smile. He doesn't look old, unlike the other dads you've encountered. Sure, he's got some gray at his temples and in his beard, but it suits him.

"Joel, it is then." You resolve. His hand lingers in yours for a little too long before finally pulling away. "Well, Joel, unless you want to elbow through teenagers, I'd suggest you hide out here for a few more minutes." He does happily, even helping you carry supplies to your car once the hallways have cleared out enough. He's a proper gentleman, slinging your backpack over his shoulder and opening doors for you. You part only once everything is in your trunk, and he bids you goodnight with a charming smile that fills your thoughts on your drive home.

Ellie surprises you the next day as you're setting up the classroom. Normally, she isn't in until right before the bell rings, so seeing her this early is a little bit of a shock. The ink staining her hands is not. "Hey, dude. What's going on?" You ask. "Did you get breakfast from the cafeteria today? I heard Mrs. Hodges has those French toast sticks that everyone loves. You can probably get two servings if you run."

"No, I already ate. My dad and uncle had to leave early this morning, so we got breakfast. Speaking of which," she says as she takes off her backpack and pulls a cup of iced coffee out of her water bottle pocket. "This is for you. We didn't know what you liked, so we got a vanilla latte or something."

"Oh, El! You didn't have to do that. Thank you, honey." You say, and she sets it on your desk for you to enjoy once you don't have paintbrushes in hand. "If this is your way of getting a good grade on your piece, I already told you that you have nothing to worry about."

"It wasn't my idea. It was my dad's." She says nonchalantly before moving to the back of the classroom to get her sketch book. You, however, are confused and secretly pleased that Joel thought of you when he didn't have to. You find a message scribbled on the side when you reach for the cup to take a sip.

Thanks again. See you Friday. -J

You turn to hide your smile from Ellie, but she's so deep in her work that you doubt she would've noticed anyway. You put some music on, and you and Ellie work silently on your projects until the bell rings and the day starts.

The rest of the week goes by without a hitch, meaning that nobody accidentally ingested paint, and you only had to have one Come to Jesus talk with your Art 1 class. When Friday night rolls around, you're excited to see all the students work and treat yourself by wearing a new shirt with black scribbles all over it and black dress pants. You figure you should look as art teachery as possible for an art teacher event.

By the time you get to the school, the hallways are buzzing with students dragging their parents from one piece to another and administrators praising their art programs even though you know not one of them has seen the inside of an art classroom in months. You make small talk with some of your students and their parents before finding a way out of the conversation and letting yourself wander through the makeshift gallery. You love your kids, but you really don't want them breathing down your neck as you look at all the art. You're almost at the end when you hear a familiar voice calling your name, and you turn to find Ellie walking toward you with Joel and, who you assume to be her uncle, next to her.

"Hey, kid! I'm so happy to see you here!" You say sincerely, and she smiles shyly. You turn to her uncle and hold your hand out to introduce yourself.

"Tommy. We sure have heard a whole lot bout you at home." He says with a smirk, and you laugh.

"All good things, I hope."

"Of course. Ellie just bout worships the ground you walk on," he says. "Joel was singin' your praises, too."

"Alright, I think that's enough. Why don't y'all go walk around, and I'll catch up with ya?" He suggests, and Tommy chuckles. Another teacher calls Ellie's name from down the hallway, and she's quick to drag Tommy off to meet him, leaving you and Joel alone. He's replaced his black shirt with a light blue dress shirt, and it looks like he's recently trimmed his beard. He looks nice.

"Singing praises, huh?" You raise your eyebrows at him, and he smiles sheepishly. "Thank you for the coffee the other morning, by the way. It was a really nice surprise."

"Figured it was the least I could do to thank you for takin' such good care of my girl."

"Well, thank you. I owe you."

"You don't owe me a thing," he says. "Although, Tommy was a little upset that I didn't bill you for lookin' at the projector."

"Was he?" You ask, and he nods.

"Oh, yeah," he laughs. "Said next time I should, at least, ask you on a date."

"Mr. Miller-"

"I thought you agreed to call me Joel." He raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge, and you shake your head, fighting a smile.

"Joel, while I'm flattered by the offer from someone so handsome-"

"You think I'm handsome?"

"I can't date my students' parents." You say, ignoring his question, but even then, the playful look on his face doesn't fade. "Well, I can leave you to it. I know Ellie will probably want to show you around."

"Right. Of course," he says. "It's really nice to see you."

"You, too. I'm just glad I didn't have paint in my hair this time."

"I don't know. I thought it was kinda cute." You feel yourself blush at his words, but you have to shut it down before it can become anything more than flattery. You take a deep breath and try not to let that stupid smirk weaken your knees as he watches you.

"Goodnight, Joel."

"Goodnight, ma'am." He says, tipping his head politely before sauntering down the hallway like he owns the place. Trouble, you think to yourself. But you can handle trouble. It's in your job description, for Christ's sake.

So, you brush off the flirting and try to ignore how his kindness and sweet words made you feel. You absolutely cannot flirt with the parent of one of your students. Dating is completely off the table. You can handle this like an adult. You have to.

After a cold shower and a leftover dinner, you check your email once more before going to bed that night. Sitting in your inbox with alarming clarity is an email from Ellie with the subject line: Art Club. Her email is somehow just as short as her subject line.

Simply, "When can I start -E."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha

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progriffon · 1 month ago

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Classes to Script

Criminal Psychology - quarter class:

Exploring the psychology behind perpetrators in true crime cases. Deep diving into a wide diversity of cases and analyzing them.

Assignments Examples

- Informational essays on specific perpetrators including their childhood/any life events that we could theorize cause them to do what they did, their crime, their victims, the investigation and arrest surrounding the case

- Covering Cases/watching documentaries as a class and discussing them

Healing & First Aid Magic - quarter class

This class teaches basic Healing & Aid Magic and gives students the opportunity to get a two year certification in it. Students need to have take CPR & first aid prior to taking this class.

Critical Thinking - quarter class

Discussion/student lead class. Students learn how to come to their own conclusions on controversial topics and debate them.

Assignment Examples:

- Students are given a prompt on a controversial topic and then given ten minutes to write a response (with bullet points and arguments) then they debate it as a class

- Picking an argumentative topic and writing an essay on it.

Cinematography - full year class

Analyzing and creating mini motion pictures. This class takes frequent field trips to a wide variety of places to obtain footage for projects. At the end of the year they go on one large out of the country one.

Assignment Examples:

- A project where students make a trailer for one of our favorite movies and share it with the class

- Watching motion pictures and taking notes on the techniques used to bring the film to life, then discussing as a class

- Collaborating with the Intro to Screenwriting class to make mini skits

- Make a short film based on an important lesson that individual students have learned throughout their lives. They have complete creative freedom. It needs to be five minutes at least but no longer than ten. It can reuse footage from earlier in the class.

[Aphmau DRs] Magi Mythology - semester class

Exploring the mythology, movement, history, and culture surrounding the magi.

Assignment Examples:

- Lots of notes (but the teacher is fun and engaging)

- Quizzes & tests (w/ kahoot reviews

[Aphmau DRs] General Werewolf Education- full year class

Students learn of werewolf anatomy, biology, history, culture, pack roles, etc. The class typically is majority werewolf as it's required for werewolf students, but is not limited to werewolves.

#reality shifting #anti shifters dni #shiftblr #shifting blog #shifting community #shifting realities #desired reality #things to script

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xohoon · 1 day ago

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𝘐 𝘞𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘈𝘓𝘞𝘈𝘠𝘚 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌 𝘠𝘖𝘜 - 𝘕𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘢 𝘙𝘪𝘬𝘪

childhood best friend!Riki x GN!reader

Summary: you were pretty popular throughout the start of your high school years in Japan, but turning 18, it suddenly changed. Riki, your childhood best friend, and now your only friend, is here to help you pursue your dream and his. Will you both make it to become an idol? Despite the confusion and uncertainty you're going through?

Genre: friends to ??, angst, sfw || words: 4.2K

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, cursing, skinship (comfort hugs, kisses.), grief. || Not proofread!

a/n: I'm rewriting my stories from tiktok on here, so practically copying myself but more text, lol. Enjoy!

Spring break is over, and it’s Monday..again. You let out a sigh as you get out of bed to get ready. Luckily you were up pretty early, so you had enough time to freshen up, get ready and eat breakfast. Normally Riki would’ve texted you when he’s on his way, but he didn’t this morning. You didn’t pay it any mind; he probably slept in. You opened the door, calling out a quick ‘goodbye’ to your mother and left for school.

You hated school. Anxiety creeping in as soon as you arrived by the gates. Which was ironic, since you were the person everyone used to love and look up to, now they despise you and make your school life a literal hell. Before you reached the gates, a big hand was put on your shoulder, followed with a bubbly “Good morning, y/n!”

You turned around to be faced with an overly happy Riki. You laughed, given his normally quieter mood in the morning. “What’s gotten you so happy in the morning?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“You.” He simply replied. You visibly cringed at his choice of words, how cheesy? He swung his arm around you shoulders while chuckling, “kidding, I’m just happy because we got dance classes again. Aaand, it’s my only class with you, y/n. I look forward to it.”

You nod, happy about the fact that you still have at least one class with him, even though it’s a school’s club you both signed up for. You give him a soft smile, hiding the fact that you’re anxious as shit. How will you survive all your other classes without Riki?

You walked into school together, speeding up your pace to get to your class faster. And what you feared happened again.

The whispers, the looks, the nagging and mockery.

“Such a freak.” One said, followed by someone else, “so pathetic, I wonder how everyone like a person who makes decisions like that when drunk.”. Laughter of mockery echoed around you like a plague.

“Just focus on me, y/n.” Riki said, holding you a bit tighter, “You’ll be okay.”

After reluctantly letting go of Riki when you had to enter your classroom, you sat down at a desk on the front row, hoping to feel at least a bit safer with a teacher having you in sight. But that thought was shut down quickly as the teacher didn’t even pay attention to you, as if she’s almost disgusted with you. And so for today, your classes felt like they went on for eternity. Until finally the bell rang that signaled it was time for your last class.

Dance practice.

Ever since the beginning of the year, you and Riki decided to be dance partners. The two of you are known as the best dancing duo. Each semester has new choreographies, including this semester.

“Alright, everyone! For the first lessons, we want to see how well you and you partner can perform choreographies out of movies before we move on to the next project.” The teacher said.

“You definitely know what that means, y/n.” Riki said, wiggling his eyebrows, hinting at something. You shook your head vigorously, crossing your arms, “No way in hell, Riki. We’re not doing the final dance from dirty dancing.

“But it’s your favorite movie!” He protested. “Besides, we’ve practiced the fly since we were kids. We can do this, y/n, don’t be a lame.”

And with that, you’re standing in front of class, ready to perform the choreography with Riki. Well- you weren’t ready. Riki was, encouraging you to be confident. Who gives a fuck what others think..right?

You tried to cancel out the laughing of other students. Even Riki’s other friends laughed at you, they obviously disliked you for some reason. The room felt smaller with each step. But your eyes met with Riki’s. He mouthed the words of encouragement that you wanted to hear from him.

“You can do it, y/n. Trust me.”

The ending of the dance was nearing, the lifting part. You practiced this over and over again. Each time felt magical, the way you’d run towards him, his hands holding onto your waist and hoisting you up in the air. Your arms stretched out as wings as you hover above him. A moment of floating, and a deeper connection with Riki. You could do it now again, just close your eyes and go.

Go..go..and go.

His hands slightly grazing your waist, but there was no grip. The magical feeling was quickly turned into humiliation as you collided with the floor.

Laughter, whispers, looks. Again and again.

You slowly opened up your eyes, too ashamed to face everyone. The teacher ran up to you, asking you things that went into your ear and out the other. Riki. Where was Riki? You look over at his friends, seeing them doing some fucked up handshake in victory. Was this planned? Did Riki just..drop you?

Before you could yell, cry or run. Your teacher helped you out of the dance studio. “Jesus, y/n..why the hell would you do that choreography?!” your teacher asked.

“Riki and I practiced this so many times, and each time we managed to do it! Why wouldn’t we choose this?” you replied back, looking around, “talking about Riki, where did he run off to?!..”

Your teacher gave you a worried look, a hand on your shoulder to keep you calm.

“You’re dismissed, y/n. Go home and rest up.” Your teacher said. You just nodded your hand, letting out a big sigh as you make your way home.

Throughout the day you tried to call Riki for an explanation. No answer, no text, no nothing. What was his problem? Did he drop you on purpose?

Finally it’s Friday, another week of this hell hole that you survived. Riki hasn’t been to school all week, it felt empty without him, despite what happened. You felt like something was missing..

A feeling? A memory?

You quickly put the thought away, the fall is probably messing up your head. You went home, looking forward to not having to be at school for at least 2 days.

When you finally made it back home, you opened the door and kicked off your shoes. A small smile on your face as you get a whiff of your favorite dinner being made and the sound of footsteps walking towards you.

“Welcome home, y/n! You gotta sit down for this!” your mom said excitedly, pulling you in for a warm embrace. You hugged her back, feeling safe into your mother’s arms, “mom, what’s gotten you all excited?”

Without a word she pulled you towards the couch, sitting down and pulling you with her. “God, where do I even start! There are flyers everywhere that there are auditions here in Japan, honey. Different music labels are looking for new trainees!”

Your eyes widen in surprise and your gloomy mood is long forgotten. You took the flyer that your mom brought home. Reading over it. Your fingers skimming over the words. It’s really happening, they’re auditioning here, and you’re going to give your all.

But not without him. Three months is all you got to keep practicing for this audition and you need him.

You gave your mom a side hug before standing up, “I need to show this to Riki.” You said. Before you could walk away, your mom gently grabbed your wrist, stopping you. “Honey, you know that you can’t do that, right?” she said. Why couldn’t you? You knew what happened last Monday was shitty, but it’s his dream too. One that you promised to always share. Your mother understood your silence, giving you a reassuring nod before letting you. And with that, you were on your way to find Riki.

You tried calling him twice while walking towards his house, but he doesn’t pick up. He never does.

“Fucking hell, Riki! Just pick up the goddamn phone for once!-“ before you could finish your angry voicemail. He was there, out of nowhere, in front of you.

“Looking for me, I see?” he laughed, knowing that he startled you. “So..” he continued, “what was so important that you had to yell at your phone?”

Your mood switched from annoyed to excitement as you got to tell him about the auditions, rambling and planning away. From planning dance practices to vocal lessons, and much more. He was smiling to himself, loving your excitement and determination for this audition, and he was going to guide you in any way he could.

“Alright, alright, y/n. Calm down. How about we start the practice with some karaoke tonight, hm?” he suggested. Ugh, you’re a sucker for some karaoke, and he knows that, how could you say no to that? You slowly nodded your head, reluctantly agreeing to go with him.

Before you could ask for an explanation for Monday, you felt his hand touching your arm, pulling you a bit closer to him. “How ‘bout a fancy dinner after, y/n?”

You cursed yourself out in your head. He’s just asking for dinner, not to kiss you, so why are your palms sweaty and is your heart racing like this? The only thing you can think of right now was his hand on your arm, his stupidly gorgeous eyes, maybe his lips as well, but anything other than the incident that happened Monday.

Fuck it.

“A fancy dinner sounds nice, i would love to go..with you.”

You’re both strolling through the streets of Okayama, looking for a karaoke place nearby. While walking you can’t help but to think..again. The emptiness without him, that weird feeling, was it this that was missing? A spark of hope and love? It’s just dinner with your best friend, yet you can’t help feeling a sense of déjà vu. The butterflies, the gaze, it felt all too familiar. What happened that you can’t recall?

After some time you both finally found a karaoke bar. You both walk in, going up to the counter to make a reservation for tonight. Behind the counter stood a pretty girl, you recognized her from school. She’s quiet and not really popular, but she’s definitely Riki’s type. You remember in freshmen year how he was gushing over her, indicating his crush on her.

Jealousy

You felt guilty for feeling jealous, but you couldn’t help it.

“Hey, y/n?..i’m going to the restroom real quick. Can you advance this for me, please? Dinner’s on me, i promise!” Riki said, basically heading off to the restrooms already.

You just subtly rolled your eyes and sighed, leaving you with no choice to pay. You look up at the pretty girl behind the counter, giving her your best smile to hide any jealously you felt towards her, “Hi, uhm- can I please pay for a room for 2, please? 2 hours is fine.”

The girl looked at you weirdly mostly confused, trying her best to be polite. “Oh..but you’re alone here?” she said.

You chuckled, pointing towards the restrooms, “Riki is using the restroom, im making a reservation for us.” You shouldn’t have said his name so explicitly, you just did it on purpose so the girl would most definitely know that you’re with him and he’s not with her. You once again curse yourself out in your head for being so jealous, almost possessive.

You’re still caught up in your thoughts, but got disrupted as the girl suddenly started to laugh in your face, it was humorless, almost a scoff in disgust. She raised an eyebrow at you, “Riki? As in Nishimura Riki? Are you kidding? He’s-“ she stopped talking, letting out an awkward cough to compose herself. “Do you want to pay cash or card, y/n?”

The way she said your name was giving you chills, is she jealous too? Why was she so..cold out of a sudden? You gave her a soft, but fake smile, “card, please.”

After having fun with karaoke, Riki took you out to dinner like he promised to. It was indeed fancy. Both indulging into a delicious starter, main course and desert. The ambience felt romantic, but was it just to you? It can’t be, not when he looks at you like that. His eyes sparkly, admiring you. Or is it just your imagination?

After dinner Riki walked you home, talking about everything and anything. It felt safe, he felt like home. The way you both talked and bantered like always, just with a bit more flirtation felt like a lost memory that has resurfaced again. You don’t want to lose this, lose him. Why is the urge to hold onto him so strong? Friends don’t think like that.

“I really enjoyed tonight, y/n.” he said, bringing you out of your thoughts. He pulled you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. He always used to hug you like this, why does it feel so good, yet painful?

“y/n, look at me..”

And before you know it, his lips are on yours. A soft innocent peck at first, before going in for a longer and deeper kiss. He pulls away, leaving you wanting more. At this point your head is pounding with confusing, it didn’t feel real. How didn’t it feel real?

You quickly rushed to say goodnight, heading inside. Your mother is already asleep, so you quietly make your way upstairs, throwing your phone on your bed, leaving it there as you go and take a shower. Needing to cool off and clear your head.

A feeling, a memory. What is your mind not telling you?

After your shower and getting dressed in your sleepwear, you head to bed. Grabbing your phone.

10 missed calls from an unknown number? Weird.

You decided to call them back, maybe Riki finally got the balls to ever call you after months of not even calling, picking up or texting.

“Good evening, is this y/n speaking?” a male voice on the other side of the line.

Nervously you replied back, “Hi, yes. It is. What’s going on?”

“I’m Ren, from Okayama Restaurant, you had a reservation tonight, correct?”

Okayama Restaurant? Why are they calling you? Did you forget something there? “Yes, I was there tonight, did I leave something?”

Ren scoffed on the other side of the phone, his voice more stern now, “You left the restaurant without paying. This is unacceptable, but mistakes may happen. You have a three business days to pay us back, or else there will be consequences.”

“Not payed? But-“ Ren cut you off before you could finish your sentence, “three business days, y/n. goodnight.” With that being said, Ren already hung up the phone, leaving you stunned and speechless. Not payed? How can the bill not be payed when Riki should’ve taken care of it? Anger rised up inside of you once again, the butterflies and giddy feeling forgotten.

He left you with the bill. He didn’t pay for dinner like he promised.

A month went by, and time was ticking. You never felt worse, from dreaming about becoming an idol with Riki to doing it all by yourself. You haven’t seen or heard about Riki ever since the restaurant incident, which you paid for. School without him was hard, it felt suffocating. So you decided to just not show up and focus on your auditions. You were pushing yourself to the point where you couldn’t take it anymore.

Now here you are, sitting alone in the dance studio, wiping your own tears away from exhaustion and feeling annoyed with yourself. Thing weren’t going how you would’ve wanted them to go. Why do you need him? Too blinded with love perhaps? Whatever, all you need right now is him, to hold you and reassure you that you’ll both make it. Despite that all he does is mess with your head.

A feeling…A memory…

What are you holding onto?

You decided to call him, is that even worth it anymore? The ringing filled the silence like a question.

Ring… Ring…

He didn’t pick up, of course he didn’t.

Desperately you wanted to hit dial again, but before you hit the button, he was there. In front of you. Looking like he didn’t even break a sweat. You didn’t hear the door opening or him even coming in, weird, but probably too caught up in your emotions. He dropped down to his knees in front of you, pulling your arm and holding you close, his soft, but cold lips planting kisses onto your temple and face. “I’m sorry, y/n..i’m so fucking sorry..” he whispers between each kiss, until the last kiss was planted on your lips. Yet again, it was cold.. it didn’t feel real, but it somehow held so much emotion. You didn’t dare to say a word, not wanting to lose him again.

You forgave him, truth to be told, you forgave him a month ago already. You both promised to keep fighting the last two months for the audition. He promised himself to guide you, even if it was the last thing he would do.

The last month was over. Training was done, but he finally stayed. Steady, solid..real. Telling yourself that you haven’t lost anything, so why does it feel like something in your head has already been taken?

It was the day of the audition. You woke up early to get yourself ready and prepared. The destination where the auditions were held was too long of a distance to walk, so intended to pick Riki up to drive there. You grabbed your bag, keys, and everything you needed. Hugged your mother goodbye and went out to your car, stepping into the driver’s seat.

It had been a while since you last drove a car. Your hands gripping the steering wheel tighter.

A feeling.. A memory.. Déjà vu…

A wave of nausea washed over you, taking deep breaths in and out to prevent yourself from throwing up. “It’s probably just nerves.” You tell yourself, calming down slowly, and driving off to pick Riki up.

The wait in the waiting room felt like an eternity, you have never felt this nervous. Riki who was waiting beside you grabbed your hand, stroking over the back of your hand with his thumb, “you’re going to be okay, y/n. I believe in you.”

You looked down at your hand intertwined with his before moving your gaze back up to his face, “aren’t you nervous, ki? You’re acting like i’m the only one auditioning today when you’re doing it as well!”

Riki simply let out a small laugh, telling you that he is more nervous for you than he is for himself. He kept reassuring you, until your name was called.

“Good luck, y/n. I know that you can do it.” He said with the biggest smile on his face. You gave him a nervous little wave, “you too, Rikster. I know that you can do it too!”

And with that said, you were ready to give in you’re all to the judges.

Clapping, whistles and happiness.

Unlike the laughter and mockery you’ve gotten used to. Your heart was beating loud in your chest, letting out a big breath that you didn’t know you were holding in, when the words you always dreamed of, were being said.

“Congratulations, y/n! We would absolutely love to fly you out to Korea and take you in for training.”

As soon as you saw Riki again, you jumped up and down, holding his hands while he was laughing. “Can you believe it?! I passed!” you said excitedly, stopping with jumping to look him better in the eyes, “did you pass, ki? When will you hear something?”

Riki gave you a soft smile, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, “they told me that they’ll let me know, y/n.” his thumb is softly stroking your cheek now, “come on, let’s celebrate! You’re leaving to Korea after all. We gotta make the best of it here in Japan.” He said. You nodded, you would have to leave your mother and Japan behind to pursue your dream with Riki. So you have to make the most if it while you’re still here.

The day is here, it’s time to leave, to start anew. “Riki, the uber is here in 10, hurry your ass up!” you shout. Riki has been quiet the last few days..too quiet. He never told you if he passed the auditions or not, but seeing his eyes sparkle each time you talked about it. You just assumed that he did. “Rikster, you’re too quiet, aren’t you happy that we made it?”

Riki looked down at his feet, a soft smile creeping in before he looks back at you, “no, y/n. You did it. You did it all on your own.” You let out a scoff, “what? No. you made it too, and we did this all together! I couldn’t have done this without you, Riki..”

Riki kept looking at you, no hint of anger or sadness, just pure pride and happiness. You started to get annoyed, why is he messing with your head..again? “Cut the bullshit, Riki! We’re going together, and that’s final.”

“Do you really not remember, y/n?” he whispered under his breath.

No?..no. You don’t remember. Your head is spiraling, but Riki’s happy expression didn’t falter, you were only met with his lovely smile, and now somber eyes.

“Your eighteenth birthday party, y/n. Do you really not remember?” He said, your eyes desperately looking into his, trying to find anything behind them.

“I love you.” He said, but he said it like he said it to you a million times. Tears of frustration and confusion well up in your eyes, “Riki, what is this all of a sudden?”

“We said our ‘I love you’s’, y/n. We confessed to each other.” He said.

A feeling.

He continued, “We went for a drive, under the influence, to celebrate our new relationship.”

Déjà vu.

And lastly he said, “we got into a car accident, y/n.”

A memory.

...

His smile faltered for a bit, looking more concerned than sad, “apparently your memory loss still isn’t over and-“

Before he could finish his sentence, there was a loud honk outside, signaling that the uber had arrived.

You don’t know what to say, the only thing on your mind is getting you and Riki in that uber, and fly out to Korea to pursue your dreams, “I know that I love you, Riki, more than friends, and I realized that with the memories I created anew this past year. Just please, let’s get into that uber and we’ll talk everything out when we’re settled in Korea.”

You turned around to open the door, but the sound of Riki’s scoff through sniffles caught you off guard.

“You really have no idea, do you?”, his voice hinting at disappointment, frustration and weakness. And the words that you never expected to leave his mouth, did.

“I…didn’t survive the crash, y/n.”

You felt the world crumble underneath you, everything hitting you at once, another feeling, another memory.He’s dead. Your best friend, your rock, your lover, died. Because of you.

You were the driver. You stepped behind the wheel under the influence, and dragged Riki with you.

Everything started to make sense now. No shit that everyone hates you. You’re the one to blame that Riki is gone, someone’s friend, someone’s son.

That Monday that he ‘dropped’ you? He wasn’t there to catch you in the first place, no wonder that everyone laughed. You probably looked fucking stupid. The pretty girl at the karaoke place? Riki’s freshmen year crush. She knew he was dead because of you, she just let you pay for two persons instead.

The unpaid bill; you ate alone. Riki was never with you. The phone calls that are left unanswered; Riki couldn’t answer cause he’s gone.

The kisses that felt cold and unreal, felt like that because you never got to feel them. Your mind holding on to the last bit it could remember when he kissed you before you both drove off, drunk

“But..i can see you! Why didn’t you tell me right away! Why?..” tears streaming down your face as you’re looking for answers, answers that you already know.

Riki sighed, his expression softening once again, “because i’m in your head, y/n. I can’t tell you what you have to figure out on your own. Every scenario, including this one, is all your own doing and thoughts. You’re imagining me, holding on to every last but that you know and feel about me.”

Outside was the uber honking again. Indicating that he’s getting impatient.

Riki stepped closer, wrapping his arms around, like a guardian angel spreading it’s wings to embrace you, “I was only here to guide you, y/n. That was my last wish.” He pulled away slightly, to look at your tear streaked face, “you have to go, love. You can do this without me.”

You look back into his eyes, crying and begging for it to be a dream, the feeling of guilt that you’ll hold forever with you weighs heavily. You took his dream, and now you have to pursue it for the both of you.

“It’s okay, y/n. I forgave you a long time ago. Please..don’t cry anymore.”

He cupped your face, giving the softest and most meaningful last kiss on your lips. It felt warm, it felt real, it was him.

“I will always love you, y/n.”

The End.

a/n: rewriting this made me cry lol. I want to thank @dazzlingjaeyun for getting me into writing again hihi. I hope this will receive some love and support. love you all, mwah!

#enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enha x reader #xohoon.fics #enhypen niki #ni ki #engene #nishimura riki #enhypen riki

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yxngbxkkie · 1 year ago

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secret secret (b.c)

hello :) i've been thinking about frat!chris for a while, and i finally had enough motivation to write this idea!! i do hope you like it! 🩷🩷

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

“Thanks for coming again,” Yeji tells you while handing you a mixed drink. She smiles at you as you grab a hold of the cup, and you shrug your shoulders.

“It's the least I can do, Yej. It's our last semester, so I might as well attend one frat party, hm?” You ask her with a giggle, taking a sip of the drink.

She laughs with you as she drinks from her cup as well. The vibrations of the music echo off the walls, and you can feel it from within you. Your eyes look around the dimly lit room, barely able to make out other students' faces.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you see Chris, the President of the Frat you're in. You can feel your cheeks flush, and you quickly tear your gaze away from him, not wanting him to catch you looking at him.

“I heard he's single again,” Yeji informs you, her arm nudging yours.

“Who?” You ask, knowing exactly who she's talking about.

She gives you a look before motioning towards Chris. “The guy you've been in love with for a year,” she tells you with a laugh, draping an arm over your shoulder.

Your heart hammers in your chest, baffled that she's aware of your feelings for Chris. You grow embarrassed and gulp down some of your drink. “I'm not in love with him,” you mutter, lying through your teeth.

Chris Bang is different from other students. He's extremely kind, respectful, and caring. The first time you talked to him, you didn't expect him to be so nice to you.

The two of you are in the same major, so you've worked together. He was your partner for a project a few semesters ago. Those are the only times you hung out with him. You've never hung out with him outside of the school grounds.

“There's no way he'd ever go for me,” you shake your head, looking at the liquid in your plastic cup.

Yeji rolls her eyes playfully. “You don't know that!” She tells you, smacking your arm gently. “You should try talking to him tonight.”

“I'll think about it,” you tell her, knowing she'll keep pestering you if you decline.

She pats your back as you finish your cup. You mention quickly that you'll be back, walking towards the kitchen to remake your drink.

You set your cup down as you look through the selection of liquor. A pair of hands rest on your shoulders, making you jump in your spot. You look over your shoulder, seeing Minho standing behind you with a smile.

“I never thought I'd see you here,” he chuckles before hugging you.

You hug him for a few seconds before looking back at the alcohol. “As I told Yeji, it's our last semester,” you repeat your words while smiling at him.

Minho nods his head and grabs one of the bottles. “Well, let's celebrate with a shot, hm?” He asks with a grin.

“Ah, okay,” you agree hesitantly, knowing you're a complete lightweight.

You watch him as he fills up two shot glasses, passing one of them to you. You pick it up and clink the glasses together. You down the shot in one gulp, squeezing your eyes shut at the taste.

“Oh, God,” you cringe, your upper body shivering. “That's horrible.”

Minho laughs as he sets the glasses in the sink. He pats your back afterward, and you go back to making a drink. “How's the dance classes going?” You ask while grabbing the ingredients to make a screwdriver.

“It's going well! Did Yeji tell you that we're doing our final together?” He mentions, watching you pour the various liquids in your cup.

“She did! She told me that she's really excited about it,” you giggle, already feeling the effects of the liquor. You stir your drink before taking a sip, humming in delight.

“She is. We both are. The dance style we got is one of our favorites,” Minho explains, making his own drink.

Before you have the chance to say anything else, Yeji and Chris walk up to the both of you. Your eyes widen a smidge, and you straighten your posture.

“Hey, Y/N! Yeji told me you were here,” Chris mentions with a kind smile, bringing you into a quick hug.

Your heart pounds against your chest as you hug him, wrapping your free arm around his shoulder. “Hey, Chris. It's been a while,” you greet him with a shy smile, taking a sip of liquid courage after.

Yeji grabs a hold of Minho's arm, tugging him away from you and Chris. You can see her give you a thumbs up from behind the man standing in front of you.

You swear that you're going to lock her out of the dorm later on. “Y/N?” Chris calls out your name, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Hm? I'm sorry,” you apologize, getting embarrassed.

He smiles at you and shakes his head. “It's okay. I asked how you've been,” Chris repeats himself, moving to the fridge to grab himself some water.

“You're not drinking?” You ask him with furrowed brows.

“No, I don't really like drinking,” he laughs before drinking from the bottle of water.

You hum, a little bit surprised as you drink some more. Silence fills the space between the two of you, and you begin to feel a little awkward.

“I'm going to check on the other guests. If I run into you again, let's talk some more,” Chris pats your arm gently before walking away from you.

You didn't even say anything, and as soon as he's out of sight, you cringe. “Can I be any more awkward?” You ask yourself, chugging the rest of your drink.

Chris finds you again a couple of hours later, and you're piss drunk. After he greets you, his hands find a place on your waist to keep you steady.

“Hi, Chris,” you giggle, leaning in closer to him.

He doesn't know how to feel. He's never seen this side of you, only talking to you about school most of the time. Chris’ heart skips a beat in his chest as you almost stumble over.

“Okay, it's time to get some rest,” he mentions, looking around for Yeji. His eyes find Minho, remembering that he was with Yeji earlier.

Chris helps you sit on the couch, your head leaning against the back of it. “I'll be right back, okay?” He asks you, holding your hand to keep your attention.

You nod your head, squeezing his hand in yours. “Okay,” you whisper before closing your eyes.

He walks up to Minho, patting his back. “Hey, do you know where Yeji is? Y/N's pretty drunk,” he informs him, taking a quick glance back at you.

“Shit, already?” Minho asks, looking in the direction Chris was looking. He winces in guilt at the sight of you, knowing how weak your tolerance is. “Yeji is linking up with someone. Could you take her home? I'll let Yeji know as soon as she's done.”

Chris bites on his bottom lip, not knowing how to feel about the situation. He doesn't know you that well, and he doesn't want to come off the wrong way.

“I trust you to get her home safely, Chris,” Minho interrupts his thoughts, snapping him from his daze.

“Okay, yeah. Text me her address,” he agrees while starting to walk back towards you. He gently reaches his hand out to you, nudging your hand. “Y/N, hey.”

You slowly open your eyes, blinking the fogginess away. You can still feel the effects of the alcohol. “Hi, Chris,” you giggle, smiling at him.

He smiles back at you, finding your intoxicated self to be quite adorable. “I'm going to take you home, okay?” He mentions while grabbing your hand, helping you up from the couch.

Your body gets pressed to his chest as Chris keeps you steady. “Sorry, I'm all over the place,” you slur your words, clutching onto the flannel he's wearing.

“You're okay,” he chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist.

It takes Chris almost half an hour to get you out of the frat house and back to your apartment. Your body collides with your mattress, a groan leaving your lips at the comfy feeling.

You look around for Chris, seeing him standing by your dresser. “You don't need to do anything else,” you tell him, making him jump at the sudden noise.

A groan comes from your lips as you sit yourself up. “Are you sure? I don't know if sleeping in that will be comfortable,” he mentions, taking a few steps closer to you.

“I'll be okay, Chris,” you giggle. You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “Thank you for bringing me home. You're so… sweet.”

“It's not a problem, Y/N. I wanted to make sure that you got home safely,” Chris exclaims while squeezing your hand.

You stare up at him, and your heart pounds against your chest. “I– I'm in love with you,” you stutter over your words, feeling your face flush. “You're so perfect.”

Chris stares at you with wide eyes, your hand slipping from his. You slowly lay on your side, your eyes drooping shut as sleep takes over your drunken body.

“Y/N?” He asks, nudging your arm a bit. He releases a huff of breath and helps you lay in bed normally. Chris pulls the covers of your body, making sure you're completely covered before walking out of your apartment.

Chris sits with Jisung and Changbin, the two chatting about how they want their first demo to go. He's not paying attention to what either of them are saying, his eyes glued to your figure walking across the campus food court.

It's been three months since he brought you home from the party he threw. Three months since you drunkenly confessed that you're in love with him. Ever since then, he's been seeing you in a light he's never seen before.

You're gorgeous, stunning, actually. A part of him is shocked that you don't have people going after you. Chris’ eyes don't leave you for one second as you sit at a table with Yeji and Minho.

His breath hitches in his throat when you suddenly meet his gaze. You smile at him and he returns his before looking away from you.

“You're so obvious, did y'know that?” Changbin laughs, sipping from his coffee after.

“What are you talking about?” Chris asks, resting his chin against the palm of his hand.

Jisung nudges his arm, intervening, “you've been staring at someone for a while.” Changbin nods his head, agreeing with what Jisung said.

He rolls his eyes, dismissing what his friends are telling him. Jisung looks past Changbin, trying to pinpoint who Chris was intensely staring at. When the younger man finds your figure sitting with Minho, his boba eyes widen.

“Is that Y/N?!” Jisung asks him, whispering so no one around can hear. Chris just nods his head in answer, a gasp leaving Jisung’s lips.

“Woah, okay,” Changbin interrupts, holding his hands up a smidge. “You have to explain. Y/N’s the girl from our music production class a few semesters ago?”

The oldest out of the trio nods his head once again, already feeling his ears turn red. He brings a hand up to them, gently pinching the shell of his ear.

“Yeah. We had a project together, and she was really nice. Extremely smart, too,” Chris starts to explain, releasing a quick sigh. “Do you remember the party we threw a few months ago?”

“Yes,” both Changbin and Jisung reply simultaneously.

Chris laughs a bit, finding it funny that the two are so invested in this. “Well, she was there with Yeji. She ended up having too much to drink, and I had to bring her home,” he continues telling the story, his eyes going back to your figure. “and before she passed out, she confessed that she was in love with me.”

Both of his friends' jaw drops, causing him to roll his eyes again. “So, you mean to tell me this gorgeous girl is head over heels for you?” Jisung sums up the second part of the story. “Does she know that you know?”

“I don't think so,” Chris leans back on his chair. “She hasn't really spoken to me since that night. We don't have any classes together this year.”

“Why not go up to her now?” Changbin asks, raising an eyebrow.

Chris plays with his fingers, feeling nervous about the idea. “What if she didn't mean it?” He asks instead, locking eyes with Changbin.

“Have you heard of the phrase, “drunk words are sober thoughts?”” Jisung asks, giving him a bewildered look.

“Just go ask her out,” Changbin mutters to him, slapping his hands.

Chris slides his chair back, and both of his friends begin to freak out. People around them start to notice, and he gives the two a look.

“Sorry,” Jisung mumbles, running a hand through his hair. He pats Chris’ arm, grinning up at him. “Go get ‘em tiger!”

You're listening to Yeji tell you about the date she went on over the weekend. You giggle at how she tells the story and take a bite of your lunch.

Minho's eyes flicker to the right and it captures your attention to look as well. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of Chris walking up to your table.

“What's happening?” You ask in a whisper, mainly asking yourself.

His eyes lock with yours and he greets you with a smile. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hey, Chris,” you shyly greet him, lifting a hand to wave.

You watch him rub his hands on his jeans before he clears his throat. “Uhm, I was wondering–” he pauses, his eyes glancing towards Yeji and Minho, who are also watching him. “Do you know the studio we used for our project?”

You blink repeatedly, not expecting that question from him. “Yeah, why?” You ask with your head tilted a bit.

“Can you meet me there in a couple of hours? I want to talk to you about something,” he asks you, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, I can,” you agree, nodding your head.

Chris smiles, nodding his head as well. “Great, okay. I'll see you soon, then,” he mentions before quickly walking away.

Your lips are parted in surprise, not knowing what the hell just happened. Yeji slaps your hand while her free one covers her mouth.

“What the hell was that!?” She asks, also surprised.

“I don't know, honestly,” you tell her, fiddling with your fingers.

She pats your hand comforting before reassuring you. “Maybe he finally realized how pretty you are,” Yeji winks, causing you to giggle.

“Maybe,” you chuckle, tucking some hair behind your ear.

You're standing outside the studio that you and Chris have worked in before. You can see the light on from under the door, so you know that he's in there. You take a couple of deep breaths, feeling a little nervous.

You knock on the door and take half of a step back. The door opens up not even ten seconds later, revealing the man you've been in love with. He smiles at you, welcoming you in the small room.

He shuts the door behind you as you sit down on the leather couch. “What'd you want to talk to me about?” You ask him, deciding to get this anxious conversation over with.

Chris sits down on the computer chair, turning it so he's facing you. “Do you remember the party I had a few months ago?” He asks you, his gaze moving from you to his hands.

“Of course. I don't remember much from that night, but I remember showing up,” You nod your head, giggling a bit.

“I ended up bringing you home,” he mentions, and your eyes widen. You don't remember how you got home. You just assumed it was Yeji or Minho. “And, when I was in your apartment… you told me something.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. No… “I didn’t– I mean,” you stutter, beginning to freak out.

Chris reaches his hand out, gently taking your hand into his. “It's okay. I promise,” he reassures you, stroking the back of your hand. “You told me that you were in love with me. Is it true?”

You take a deep breath, feeling yourself shake just a little bit. “I… Yeah, I am. I'm sorry that I told you. I was drunk, obviously–”

“Will you go to dinner with me?” Chris cuts you off by asking you out.

“What?” You whisper, your heart skipping a beat. “Did you just–”

“Ask you out? Yes, I did,” he laughs, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand.

You smile at him softly, giggles leaving your lips. “Are you going to cut me off every sentence if I say yes?” You ask jokingly, squeezing his hand.

Chris laughs, and he shakes his head. “No, never. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to,” he says with a kind grin, reducing the space between you two. “I was panicking, and I didn't want you to think that I was going to reject you.”

“You're fine, Chris,” you reassure him.

His free hand comes to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?” He asks you.

Your cheeks blush at his question, finding yourself nodding your head. Chris tilts his head to the side, capturing your lips in a shy kiss.

You grab a hold of the shirt he's wearing, kissing him back immediately. He releases your hand to wrap his arm around you, pressing your body against his.

He breaks away from the kiss, his chocolate eyes looking into yours. You feel like you're on cloud nine. Never in your life did you think that you'd pull Christopher Bang, yet here he is, kissing you like his life depends on it.

“Are you free this weekend?” He asks you, resting his forehead on yours.

“I have to bring Yeji and Minho somewhere, but after that, I'm all yours,” you grin, brushing your nose against his.

Chris reconnects your lips, giving you a short kiss. “Perfect.”

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

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baedreamverse · 1 year ago

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class buddy — p.js

enhypen jay head cannon

classmate!Jay whom you met as your desk mate in college.

classmate!Jay is chic with a mysterious aura around him, his demeanor drawing you closer in curiosity.

classmate!Jay who dresses fashionably in a vintage style with his favorite cologne.

classmate!Jay who asks to be your partner in the upcoming project for your class.

classmate!Jay asks for your phone number to discuss about the project once you’re outside of class

"hey, is it okay if we can exchange numbers? Now that we're partners in this project together."

classmate!Jay invites you to go to the library together, using the excuse of “research” for the project

"when are you free so we can go work together?"

classmate!Jay who you get to know as someone with a firm resolve in his beliefs.

classmate!Jay whom you get to know as someone with a unique sense of humor, sometimes pulling dad jokes out of context.

classmate!Jay who you get to know as a person with a warm, selfless, and pure heart.

classmate!Jay who saves a seat for you in class if you’re slightly late.

classmate!Jay in which you enjoy his company during class as he never fails to make you laugh.

classmate!Jay whom you get close to for the remaining of the semester despite finishing the project together.

classmate!Jay invites you to go out for drinks at a cafe he recommended since he found out about your interest in trying new drinks/foods.

classmate!Jay in which you get really close to after spending time outside of class together.

bestfriend!Jay who thought of you and sends you messages regarding a new restaurant he went to with his guy best friends

"we should go together here next time, I think you'd enjoy it"

bestfriend!Jay who matches your energy and jokes around with, occasionally bickering with each other

"let's play fair at least!!"

bestfriend!Jay is afraid of the horror genre but tries his best to watch horror movies with you because he knows you enjoy the thrill of it

"ahh I told you that would happen! now look who's being haunted next."

bestfriend!Jay who sends funny memes on social platforms to share laughter with you

"this is us" "why does it remind me of you from that one time?? lol"

bestfriend!Jay who pays attention to the smallest details of you, especially noticing your habits, which he thinks is cute.

bestfriend!Jay who’s love language is acts of service, in which he plays close attention to you a lot.

“Here, I cooked this for you since you told me it was your favorite.”

“My dish will become the best you’ve ever had.”

bestfriend!Jay who carries an extra hair tie in case you needed it because you either lost it or forgot.

bestfriend!Jay who keeps an extra pouch (comb, hair clip, pads/tampons, cough drops) of your stuff in his car glove box, just in case you forgot to bring an item you needed.

bestfriend!Jay who comforts you when you’re going through a hard time regarding your family, academics, or relationships.

bestfriend!Jay who enjoys cooking for you just to see you smile.

bestfriend!Jay plays the guitar occasionally when he comes over to your apartment complex.

bestfriend!Jay whom you have an annual weekend together to travel far outside of the city.

bestfriend!Jay who treats you out for cafe dates just cause

"let's go out"

a/n: hi hii, hope you enjoy this really short cannon of Jay. for sure there will be more scenarios along the way~ the idea came up to me in the middle of the night as i was streaming their comeback for XO (only if you say yes). 🚨 also if you haven’t yet pls stream their XO (OIYSY) mv, esp on Spotify or Apple Music, and vote for ENHYPEN on all voting platforms (ALLCHART/U Pick/Mnet+/Superstar X/Mubeat)! Thank youu! ♡

☆ please like & reblog ☆

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thisismeracing · 1 year ago

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Literature lovers | CS55 (patreon exclusive)

read the full piece here

― Pairing: Professor!Sainz x TA!reader (she/her) ― Warning: implied age gap (reader is in her mid-twenties, Carlos in his mid-thirties); mentions of food and alcohol; graphic description of sex (p in v, oral –fem receiving, dirty talk); Use of Cassio Sanchez instead of Carlos Sainz for known reasons. (5.1k words) ― Summary: One of your favorite writers once said that “destiny guides our fortunes more favorably than we could have expected”, deep down you knew he was right, but you had never given it too much thought. Well, at least not until you heard the Spanish Literature professor say those words looking at you. Of course, it was dangerous grounds, but things clicked, and as he said so himself, destiny guided you together.

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Growing up, you always heard about how you had to be the best, had to run twice as fast as others, train more, and still hear how lucky you were. It was something that tired you once college came around. Yet, it was almost like second nature to you, doing things as close to perfection as possible. That’s how you ended up getting into your master's right after graduating, that’s how you turned out being a teacher’s assistant to one of the most famous professors on campus, and coming to think about it, you guess that’s how he ended up recommending you to everyone.

That’s the reason he recommended you to Carlos Sainz, the Spanish Literature professor.

Your professor, English literature specialist, George Russell, was a posh Englishman who would occasionally forget some of his materials and schedules, always having a book on his nose and talking about it. You and he hit it off quickly. You were his favorite student, and when you became his assistant, he was even happier because you were just so organized, and punctual.

When George told you he was “lending” your teacher’s assistant’s services to another professor, because he was off, and his colleague had a few conferences that month, besides taking over his classes, you accepted. George knew you loved Spanish language literature, and he knew you and Carlos would work well together. At least that’s what he told you before sending you Carlos' work e-mail and handing you a copy of the uncensored version of The Picture of Dorian Gray, a book you had been trying to get for months but hadn’t been able to find that particular edition.

While setting some of your things for the first day with Carlos, you stared at his e-mail for the hundredth time. You didn’t know him. Your Spanish Literature classes were all completed during an exchange in Colombia, and the University was big enough for you not to know every professor by name or face.

Still, you took a deep breath and wrote an e-mail to Professor Sainz about some of your ideas for the upcoming semester, well aware that you had accepted the role and you would make it work. You liked to think that you could have denied George's request and could have told him about a personal project you’ve been working on, but you said yes.

One of your favorite writers once said that “destiny guides our fortunes more favorably than we could have expected”. Deep down you knew he was right, but you had never given it too much thought. Well, at least not until you heard the Spanish Literature professor say those words looking at you.

***

He keeps his eyes on your face, and you smile after swallowing a bite and finally opening yours.

“I take it, you liked the dish?” His amused, yet provocative tone made you shiver the slightest.

“It’s perfect, Carlos. Now I’m feeling bad I bought a cake from a bakery, instead of making our dessert myself,” you complained, taking another bite. Carlos caught the joke in your tone and smirked, eyes finally wandering down your body, or what the table lets his big brown orbs see.

The V-neck dress was not scandalous per se, it has sleeves that go to your wrists, and it’s not form-fitting, but rather loose around your body. It showed the right amount of skin. And Carlos couldn’t have loved your choice more.

His eyes found yours after a few seconds, it’s almost like he’s making sure you’re comfortable with his gaze, and the way you lean slightly on the table giving him the perfect view is answer enough.

“Don’t worry about dessert, you know we have it covered.”

“Do we?” You add to the tension, and Carlos chuckles.

“Oh, we sure do,” he nods, taking a sip of his wine. “In fact, how do you feel about skipping the whole meal and going straight to dessert?”

“It sure sounds tempting.”

“Do you want it?”

He was still sitting and hadn’t made any move indicating he was about to go your way. You knew this game you were playing and knew that the way he was throwing the questions your way was Carlos studying you, making sure you were comfortable with the outcome. He wanted you to be comfortable. He always wants it, and you can tell from the small details.

No pressure.

Never pressure.

He wanted you to want him.

And oh, how you do!

“I want it.”

He smirked. You heard the scrape of the chair against the wooden floor and watched as he walked barefoot to you. The first few buttons of his white button-up were undone showing you his tan skin where a few dark strands of hair peek out on what you can tell was a remarkably toned body.

Carlos pushed your chair back, turning it to him. He parted your thighs the best he could with your dress and kneeled between your legs. From this angle, he looked even hotter.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, honeybees! I hope you guys liked this sneak peek! This piece has been on Patreon since last month, but I forgot to add the sneak peek here hihi <3 I wanted to write for Professor!Sainz for a while now, and finally found the inspo to finish this piece, and the time to finish editing the last details. A huge shout-out to C (my coffee emoji anon) and Dee (@struggling-with-delia) for proofreading this, and to K (@dancininseptember) for suggesting the TA!reader when I posted about writing this (Ily, guys!).

If you liked this sneak peek and want access to the exclusive content, subscribe to my patreon!💘

▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @leclercsluv @bbreezybitch @graciewrote @alessioayla @littlesatanicassholebitch @barcelonaloverf1life @noncannonships @fanboyluvr @is-just-a @love4lando @woozarts @namgification @formulaal @benstormy

#op: patreon exclusive #op: patreon preview #f1 patreon #cs55 #millie writes smut #carlos sainz smut #f1 smut #f1 2024 #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #professor!sainz #f1 fandom #formula one fanfic #formula one smut

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babey-fruit-bat · 9 months ago

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Practical Life Skills for Everyone

Wolverine X Reader FLUFF

Content: The new Home Ec teacher encounters the Shop Class teacher at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters

Note: photos come from Pinterest and collage made by me hehe

Tw: SAFE FOR POC/FEM READERS- Author can’t write dialogue, Logan is called short ONCE (written with comic accurate Wolverine in mind-but can be movie Logan too) reader is given pet names/refered to as she/Ms.

I haven’t written a serious fic since high school and I want to get back out here again hooray!

—————————————————————————

A new semester, apple on the desk, pots and pans freshly washed, sewing machines at the ready. Nothing this semester could stop you- starting fresh at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters brought to fruition everything you’d hoped for. Family, a career, children, and most importantly- stability.

A word normally foreign for mutants of all kinds, yourself included. Settling down as a teacher helped to blend your identity. Charles had located you on purpose- something you’d come to terms with over the last few months spent bonding with the staff and fellow X-Men. You’d been offered a position as a teacher and had accompanied several missions, all successful due to your mutation. It wasn’t easy- and took many years to develop and control your abilities the way you could. You’d managed on your own just fine before this but life was lonely at best, suffocating at worst. A life spent using your mutation to survive- Now you could live.

You’d initially been brought on to train a young mutant named Rouge- with a similar ability, training her was rewarding. It was like a reflection of your younger self staring back st you. About a century ago you had no community, family, friends.

That reality seemed so far away compared to the life you lived now. You mused this thought to yourself unlocking the door to your classroom. You set the books on top of your perfectly organized desk- perfect timing as the students began filling in for the day.

You pulled up their bell work to complete on the projector watching one by one as they sorted themselves into groups ready. A slight drone of music started down the hall and the bell announced the start of another day.

Beginning with collecting the bell work, you started the students off with a simple recipe to complete before the end of class. Classic chocolate chip cookies- a family favorite and good way to observe the student’s skill levels.

“More salt Colby, the acidity is necessary”

“Yes Ms. Y/N”

“Scrape the flour off the top of the measuring cup for an even amount, Emma”

“Thanks, professor Y/N!”

It wasn’t long before each student had a decent batch of cookies ready to grade and devour- the edible ones at least..

But before any grading could be done- or eating the music level from the hall rose to an absurd level

“Does anyone know who has their music so loud this morning?” You stated opening the door to the hallway “I hardly think this time of morning is-“

“It’s the shop class down the hall” one of the students stated, also mildly annoyed

“Hmmm, shop class? I didn’t know we offered shop this semester.. Do you think the professor would-“

A chorus of “No way!” “Do not!” and “He’ll kill you!” erupted from the students

“Who? I hardly think anyone would be so ill-tempered about asking to cut the music down so early”

“It’s professor Logan, he’s back this semester”

“Then I guess we’ll have to give him a ring- this volume is a little much, surely he wouldn’t mind?”

The students held their breath as you dialed the shop’s classroom on the school phone

It was a wonder anyone picked up the phone in the shop. Many students gathered around the bike Logan was introducing as the senior class project. A chance to not only test their skills but add personal flare- a teenagers wet dream truly.

Some eager students had been sent to gather the tool on the bench when one notice the phone ringing. They answered and briefly spoke to the teacher on the other end before hanging up the phone. One student simply turned the music down- enough for Logan to notice. He didn’t like the settings messed with unless he did so himself, especially by his students.

“Who touched the radio?” He demanded

The students silently stood there as the music paused completely. One student bravely spoke up

“It was the phone-“

“The phone cut the music down?” He interrupted

“No, a teacher called and asked us to do it”

“Who? I sweat if you answered Scott and listened! What’s the first rule in shop!?” He sighed, already tired from the day and needing a drink.

He wasn’t cut out for this ‘teacher’ shit, Logan thought to himself. He’d tried to argue with Charles claiming he had better things to do and had been promptly reminded of how much time he spends in the garage should be put to good use.

He signed as he sensed his pupils unease and cut the music back on and instructed them to get started. He stalked to the phone clicking a few buttons to figure out what classroom called to complain ready to give Scott a piece of his mind. He ran out to steam seeing it was your classroom that had called. The new teacher who’d started their first semester just down the hall. He’d meant to stop by and welcome you but meeting people without confrontation had never been his strongest quality. What better time than now. He left the students to their assignment and carried himself down the hall ready to introduce himself.

A knock on the door interrupted the classroom buzz and a hush fell over the students. You padded over to the door and peeked out the small window. A short man, clad in a black t shirt and jeans stared back at you with an unreadable expression.

“Good morning! What can I do for you?” You trailed off not recognizing him.

“You called the shop a minute ago” he stated twirling the toothpick in his mouth

“Yes, I’m sorry to bother- You must be professor Logan”

“Mm hm” he answered shortly, stepping out further in the hall while you closed the door behind you.

“I’m sorry if I upset you, it was just a little loud for my students and I this morning-“

He held a hand up “Not a problem, doll. I can’t upset my favorite teacher, right?”

“Favorite teacher? We just met” you said with a light laugh

“I’ve been around a long time- I know a good girl when I see one”

“I hardly think that’s appropriate to say here”

“No? Maybe I can say it another way or another time?” His lips curling up in a smug smile “How about you come down to the shop after classes- Grab a drink later?”

“Oh! Uh sure? I guess so?” From the way the students reacted you’d assumed this teacher was awful, even horrible. Be here is his- polite as ever and asking to grab a drink?

“I like that answer” he laughed leaning closer “Meet me later at garage three- I’ll take you to Abe’s”

Abe’s was one of the nicer bars in the city, a place known for anniversaries, couples flocking there left and right for an evening out. You’d never stopped by until tonight- now you had plans for once with a complete stranger- a handsome one at that.

“I’ll see you later then, garage three”

“Looking forward to it, sweetheart” he said turning to head back to his class

You entered your room once again as the class held their breath. No yelling, no cussing, no words of any kind were heard and the students had feared your first day would be your last- they didn’t know that this was just the beginning

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine #wolverine fluff #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fluff

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