#only a total of four hours of homework a week

[covenofagatha]

The Psychology of Love (Part 1)

The First Day

Your first class of Personality Psychology with Professor Agatha Harkness awaits

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: very light smut, slowburn, teacher x student

“Can you believe we’re graduating college in the spring?” your best friend and roommate, Wanda Maximoff, asks when you sit down at the table in the dining hall with a plate of toast and a cup of orange juice. 

You shake your head, brain still foggy with sleep, and silently curse yourself for picking the nine AM class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. It’s the first day of your senior fall semester and you already know it’s going to be rough. You really hope this is the kind of class that has optional attendance. 

Wanda is much more of a morning person than you are, with chipper green eyes and a glow to her pale skin. She was more than happy to sign up for all early classes and you wish you had half of her energy. 

“You have Creative Writing at nine and then Gender and Sexuality Studies at ten-fifteen?” you ask. Wanda’s an English major and you sometimes wish you had gone down that route as opposed to Psychology. It’s interesting, of course, but some of the courses you’ve had to take made you want to poke your eyes out with boredom. 

She nods. “What do you have?” 

Shrugging, you pull out your phone to look at your schedule. “Personality Psych at nine,” you say. “Physiological Psych at twelve. I really hope these aren’t bad.” 

“Did you look up the professors? I did—apparently one of mine was fired for making racist comments and then rehired by the university,” Wanda scoffs and your eyes widen. “He apparently sued, it was a whole thing. So I bet that class should be fun.” 

Her sarcasm makes you chuckle and then wince. “No, fuck, I didn’t look,” you say, inwardly kicking yourself. When you had registered for classes, there were only certain times that some of them were offered so you had to work around that. You didn’t get to be picky in your senior year, when you were down to the last few classes you needed to graduate. 

You zoom in on the professor’s name for your first class on the screenshot of your schedule—Agatha Harkness. Typing it into google, you say a silent prayer that she’s an easy-A teacher. 

Clicking on the first website, your face falls when you see that she has a two-point-nine out of five rating, with the average grade being a C. Difficulty level four out of five. Attendance mandatory. You scroll through the reviews and your heart sinks lower with each one. 

Barely any homework, tests are about ninety percent of the grade. 

I made two-hundred flashcards and still failed the final exam. Professor Harkness is a total hardass. 

I didn’t wear my seatbelt while driving to class in the hopes I’d get into a car crash. 

“Jesus,” you mutter. Some of them are a little better, saying that she’s a wicked genius, and that going to office hours will help. One of them says she has some unorthodox ways of teaching psychology and that she picks favorites—but it’s effective. 

You put your phone away, not even bothering to look up any of your other professors. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss. 

Wanda gets up to get some eggs and you bite into your cold toast, but you’ve lost your appetite. It’s your senior year and you can’t let your GPA tank this semester—you refuse to let that happen. If it takes going to office hours every day for the week before an exam, or buttering your professor up, you’ll fucking do it. 

“Nat and I heard about a welcome-back rager that one of the sororities is hosting tonight,” Wanda says when she comes back. Natasha is her girlfriend, one of your other best friends. You take all the credit for them getting together. Both of them had confessed that they liked the other to you so you had made a reservation for dinner for the three of you at a restaurant known for its romantic setting and then you had texted them about three minutes before to let them know that you wouldn’t be able to make it. 

Wanda didn’t come back to the dorm that night and when she had stumbled back in the next morning, her neck was covered in hickeys. 

Your nose wrinkles. “A sorority?” Not that you have anything against them, you just imagine their parties being very guy-infested. 

She laughs and rolls her eyes fondly. “It’s not what you’re thinking. They’re all invite-only and this is a queer sorority.” 

“Oh. Yeah, that sounds fun then.”

“Maybe you can get some action,” Wanda smirks, raising her eyebrows suggestively. 

Snorting, you take a long sip of orange juice to delay answering. Your love life has been complicated to say the least. Your first serious relationship was in freshman year of college, when a girl who had lived across the hall from you asked you out and no one had told you that it was a bad idea to date someone who lives that close to you. She was clingy and immature and you weren’t convinced that she actually cared about you—more just the idea of you. 

And you felt more from just a few compliments from women twice your age than you did the entire time with her. 

Looking back on it now, the whole thing was a bit of a mistake but you had gotten some experience from it and thankfully you had moved dorm buildings and hadn’t seen her again since. 

There had been some hookups in the past two years—drunk calls and makeouts in the bathroom at parties—but no one had caught your eye. 

“Yeah, we’ll see,” you say evasively. It just felt like something was constantly missing. You hadn’t opened up to Wanda or Nat about it, but you secretly longed for what the two of them had with each other. “It’s tonight?” 

Wanda hums. “At nine. So Nat will come over around then and we can pregame and then head over? Can’t be too early.” 

You shake your head at how egregious it would be before laughing. Natasha plops down next to Wanda, out of breath, before kissing her girlfriend on the cheek. They giggle to each other and you push your chair back. 

“I should probably get going. I can only imagine what my professor would do if I’m late,” you say. 

One of your general psych professors taught you that there’s only one type of person who goes out of their way to do a survey or write a review: someone who feels incredibly strongly about it. For each person who wrote a bad review about Professor Harkness, there’s surely five people who did just fine in the class with no complaints. That makes you feel a little better and you smile at your friends before trekking across campus. 

Her classroom is in the Psychology building, which is possibly the furthest one from the dining hall, and by the time you get there and walk up the flight of stairs, your calves are burning and you have to make an effort to control your heavy breathing. 

But you have five minutes to spare and the room is empty, so you lean against the wall next to the door on your phone. You’re already getting notifications of assignments for this week—why do you have five things to do for one class? A ball of stress starts to coil in your stomach. 

“Nervous habit?” someone asks, and it takes you a moment to realize that they’re talking to you. You look up, surprised, and find an older woman, maybe late forties, with curly dark hair that’s tossed over her shoulders, dark blue eyes that pierce into yours, and large, black glasses resting on her nose. She’s wearing a navy dress with a black blazer and smart brown shoes. Her eyebrow is posed expectantly and you realize that you’ve been chewing on your thumb nail. 

You clear your throat and straighten up, a feeling that you can’t quite name growing inside you. “Sorry?” 

Her lips slowly stretch into a smile and you catch a whiff of her perfume—a unique blend of warm vanilla with a dark coffee and something extra that adds a little spice. “Are you here for class?” she asks. 

“Yeah, um, Personality Psych,” you answer, feeling like you’re missing out on something. She looks absolutely delighted and steps to the side of you to open the door to the classroom. The pieces slowly click into place and your mouth drops open. “You—you’re Professor Harkness?”

She smirks. “Not who you were expecting?” 

She is not who you were expecting at all. The reviews made it sound like she was a mean crone deriving pleasure from failing students left and right. Not an attractive older woman.

You swallow roughly. 

Professor Harkness tilts her head to the side and you brush past her into the classroom, muttering a “Not really,” her scent lingering in your nostrils. It’s a small room and you sit at a desk in the second row on the left side, where the lectern is. You’ve found that it’s easier to focus when you’re close to the teacher. 

More students trickle in and sit behind you or to the side of you. No one takes the desk in front of you, though, so when Professor Harkness sweeps through the aisles of chairs and stops at the front, you’re in her direct line of sight. Her eyes twinkle when they land on you and you squirm.

“Welcome to Personality Psychology,” she announces at nine on the dot. “I am Professor Agatha Harkness. I have a PhD in clinical and behavior psychology. I’m sure many of you have heard or read that this class is difficult.” 

Out of your peripheral vision, you see some people nodding and nervously chuckling. 

She slams a hand down on the surface of the lectern, making everyone jump. “They are correct. But, let me tell you something. A lot of the students that take this class think it will be easy. They hear ‘Freud’ and they think ‘Oedipus Complex’. They hear ‘biological approach’ and they think ‘nature versus nurture’. Of course we will cover that—but we will also go very deep into what each theory pertains and includes. People fail because they think there’s too much information so they give up. What’s the solution?Try.” 

You wonder if she saw the review from the person that said they made two-hundred flashcards and still failed. 

Agatha moves to the desk next to the lectern to log into the computer. Quiet chatter fills the room, people introducing themselves to each other, but you dig in your bag and pull out a notepad and a pen. Your psych teacher in high school taught you that writing down information helps your brain retain it better than typing, so you’ve grown accustomed to taking notes by hand. 

She presses a button and the screen at the front of the classroom turns on and projects the syllabus. Agatha quickly goes through it, making note of the three exams and two research presentations that are scattered throughout the semester, and someone raises their hand. 

“So we only have five grades?” he asks, a nervous tremor in his voice. You’re right there with him—it will be very hard to bring your grade back up if you do bad on a test. 

Agatha stares him down. “If you do well on each one, you won’t need more than that.” The boy stammers but she moves on, telling everyone that attendance is indeed mandatory and that she won’t be posting the slides for notes online. You inwardly groan, hoping that your fear of failure will outweigh your lack of motivation. 

When she closes the tab with the syllabus, you hear rustling behind you and you turn slightly to see a girl packing up. A quick check of your watch shows that there’s still thirty minutes left.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Agatha says. “Did I dismiss the class?” 

The girl freezes before slinking back into her seat. “No, sorry, I just thought—” 

Agatha laughs humorlessly and you flinch. “Well, you are dismissed. We’ll see you on Wednesday unless you drop the class first.” The girl’s mouth drops open, eyes glassy, but she holds her head high as she walks out of the door.  

If you were her, you’re not sure you’d be able to come back. 

“Alright, let’s get into it,” Agatha says, clicking on a new tab and opening a slideshow. There’s a quiet ugh among everyone—of course she’s making you take notes on the first day. “What is personality?” 

No one moves an inch, no one says a word. 

She scoffs and stands up, perusing the room. You’re sure everyone is doing the exact same thing as you—looking anywhere but the professor. Raising your hand to your mouth and biting your fingernails, you feel her eyes on you and you reluctantly meet her gaze. 

“It’s the way you think and behave?” you offer and she smiles pleasantly. A feeling of warmth spreads through you at the validation. 

She clicks to the next slide. “Very good. The definition I want you to know is that personality is first and foremost a construct. It’s an idea that we created. It’s a person’s overall, individual pattern of behaviors, emotions and thoughts. There are five basic approaches to how we can look at personality.” 

You furiously scribble that down. You’re one of the only people who’s writing notes and she thankfully waits for you to look up before continuing. 

“We have the Trait approach, the Biological approach, the Psychoanalytical approach, the Phenomenological approach, and the Behavioral approach. I’m sure some of you are familiar with most of these, but over the semester, we’re going to really dive into how each of these approaches views personality and what they think is the basis for it. There are a lot of different ways to assess personality, some a lot more legitimate methods than others.”

Someone raises their hand and Agatha nods at them. “The Trait approach is where we look at the Big Five personality test, right?” 

Agatha sighs and clicks to the next slide. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to in an attempt to appear smart. It doesn’t work.” You stifle a laugh—she sees and winks at you and your cheeks flush. 

She continues talking a bit, giving you a bit of information about each one, before telling everyone to take out a piece of paper. 

“Draw a picture of a house and your family, whatever it looks like to you,” Agatha instructs. She sets a timer for five minutes while she walks around and glances at people’s work. 

When she gets to you, her perfume invades your nostrils as she bends over your shoulder. You can feel her hair brush your back. She hums in your ear and your stomach heats up. 

“This is an example of a projection test. You can tell a lot about a person based on how they drew the things,” she says, sitting back at her desk. “How intricate they draw the house. If it looks like the place they grew up in. Where they put themselves compared to the rest of the family. Who is even included in the family. I’m not going to collect these, but if you do want me to take a look at them so you can judge for yourself how accurate it is, stay after class. If not, then you may go and I’ll see everyone on Wednesday.” 

You’re the only person who doesn’t immediately rush out the door and you slowly make your way up to her, paper in hand. Her eyes flick to yours and she smirks, like she knew she could count on you. 

She holds out her hand and you give her your drawing. The lines on her forehead crease and she nods, analyzing it. You shift and scratch your head and resist the urge to bite your nails because of her comment earlier. 

Agatha puts the paper down on the desk, faced towards you. “The house isn’t detailed—just a square with a door and four windows and a triangle as the roof. Maybe you’re just not an artist, or maybe you never really considered any place home.” 

It feels like all the air gets sucked out of your lungs. 

“There’s space between you and these people,” she points to you and then to your mom, brother, and father, “but there’s also space between your parents. Or that’s who I’m guessing they are.” 

You nod. 

“It seems like you don’t feel very connected to them, or to your home. Maybe their home specifically?” She looks up at you, lips quirked up. “So, projective tests—total nonsense?” 

Chuckling shakily, you meet her eyes. “Total,” you joke. 

Agatha leans back in her chair and studies you. “What made you want to study psychology?” 

“Oh, well, I don’t know,” you say lamely, shifting your weight from one foot to another. “I guess I just like knowing how people think. What about you?” 

There’s a dark glint in her eyes. “Understanding people, the way they think—” she gestures to you in agreement with your answer, “—it gives you power over them. You know how to get inside their head, you know how to get what you want.” 

The air seems to thicken around you two and her perfume makes you dizzy. “What do you want?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. Her eyebrow twitches up. 

“Right now, I want a coffee,” she asserts, standing up and handing you back your paper. Whatever spell, whether real or imagined on your end, is broken and Agatha smiles. “I’ll see you Wednesday?” 

The unspoken question is if you’re going to drop the class, if you’re scared off by her demeanor. You meet her gaze firmly. “I’ll see you then.” 

“Have a good rest of the day, y/n,” she says, walking past you and out the door, and you stand there, agape, realizing that you never told her your name.  ~~~

“I’m Natasha Romanoff! I’m friends with Stacy,” Nat yells over the pumping music from inside the sorority. The girl at the door nods and moves to the side to let you, Nat, and Wanda into the house. 

The lights are a deep blue and you see people in the corners doing shots and playing beer pong, there’s girls making out in the middle of the floor, guys outside in the pool. You turn to say something to your friends, but they’ve already gone off somewhere else and left you standing there alone. 

So you go and fill a cup up with beer from the keg and take in the scene, perfectly content to just be a wallflower for the night. You’re not even really sure why you came, but you had nothing else to do and now the drinks you had earlier are settling pleasantly in your stomach, making your veins buzz and your head float.

“Hey!” someone says loudly and you look to the side to find a girl with dark hair and blue eyes standing there. “You look lonely.” 

You laugh and take another sip. “My friends left me. They’re probably hooking up in a bedroom right now.” 

She leans in closer and you find yourself mirroring her. “Do you want to go look in the bedrooms and see if we can find them?” 

“What? Why would I—” She raises an eyebrow and it clicks. “Wait, are you hitting on me?” She nods and you down the rest of your drink. You’re about to apologize and walk away when you inhale and smell something. 

Vanilla, coffee, and a hint of something else. 

There’s a flicker of heat in your stomach and you reach out a hand to cup her cheek, bringing her closer to you. 

It’s her. You can’t explain it, but energy thrums under your skin and you pull her mouth to yours. The scent fills your nose and your mouth and you moan. She pushes you against the wall and you don’t even know her name but you don’t care. 

Your tongue licks into her mouth and she whimpers, hands frantically sliding down your body and around your waist. You’ve never done anything like this before, never this reckless, but there’s something about her that is driving you crazy. 

Her fingers fiddle with the button on your jean shorts before sliding in, her smell the only thing you can focus on and it hits you. 

It’s the same perfume as Agatha was wearing in class. 

You should stop because it’s so fucked up but you’re too wet now to just walk away so you wrap your arms around her to bring her closer. 

And when she slides a finger into you, in a hallway in a sorority house amidst fifty other undergraduates, your professor is all you can think about.

Part Two

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @m1vfs @agathascoven1

[rotthepoet]

Theo likes to appear to be so nonchalant, so cool, so unbothered, as if he got everything under control. Like nothing can get under his skin but that's EXACTLY why it's so fun to tease him n test how much it'll take to watch his restraint snaps (which isn't much tbh) 😼🤞

Going in for a hug? We're just hugging him extra tightly, pressing our lower half against his lower region extra harder, n inhaling his scent and he KNOWS

Sitting on his lap? Well of course it just so happens that we're wearing one of his big sweater w nothing underneath and batting our lashes up at him 🌚 totally accidental and a silly innocent mistake on our part

Hours, days, weeks, I DONT CARE IM GOING TO TEASE THAT MAN AND WATCH HIS RESTRAINTS CRACK

Anyways, have a beautiful day pookie 💋

- 🎹

Queen. I wrote like half of this and then i accidentally deleted it all. Lets have a moment of silence 😔 … now that its passed THANK YOU FOR BEING SO PATIENT WITH ME I LOVE YOU AND I’LL NEVER MAKE YOU WAIT THIS LONG AGAIN

The Quidditch team had a very, no, outrageously stupid idea. Each and every one of them would practice celibacy for the week of the upcoming championship game. Seven whole days without sex. This included your amazing, wonderful, slightly pretentious boyfriend Theodore.

This did not sit right with you.

In fact, it sat so not right with you that you couldn’t help but… sabotage this game.

At first it was small things, your touch lingering too long on his bicep or thigh. Shifting your hips a little too much when he spooned you. Licking stray cream from your fingers at dinner.

But that didnt seem to work, no, it seemed like Theodore Nott hadnt been affected at all!(and you don’t know this, but he is DYING inside trying to not fuck you then and there)

So on day three you amp it up a little. You caught him right after quidditch practice, sweat dripping down his nose, and eyes wide as you practically throw yourself at him. Normally you wouldn’t touch him before a shower, but fuck has 3 days without sex made you a mess. Plus. You had to win this game.

You throw your arms around his neck, and his eyes glance down just enough to see the lowcut top youre wearing as your tits press against his chest. He suppresses a groan as you jump into his arm, forcing him to grab the plush skin of your thighs to support you. You, being extra bold today, kissed the side of his neck, tasting his salty skin beneath your lips as you take a deep breath and shiver. Maybe you were horny, but he didnt smell nearly as bad as he usually did after practice. Thats the point he put you down, kissing your forehead. “Four more days, bella…” he mumbled against your skin, before he grabbed your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look up at his dead eyes. “Knock it off or it’s going to be longer.”

“You wouldn’t last.”

“Oh, no. I’ll still be cumming. You just won’t be.”

His smirk as he walked off sent shivers down your spine and to the heat pooling in your panties.

On day five, you’ve had enough. You walked around your room, wearing nothing but a black, lacy thong and Theodores quidditch jersey. His name was proudly printed on the back, and you wore it like a badge of honor. And really, it was just too cute to not show off.

One text to Theo, asking for help on your DADA homework, and he was at your door in moments.

His face went a stark white the moment he saw you, his body shaking slightly from the overwhelming urge to take you right there.

You kissed his cheek in greeting, pulling him to a chair at your desk and sitting right down in his lap as usual.

“What are you doing?” He asks, voice raw and cracking slightly as he forced his gaze away.

You only shift slightly, your ass pressed against his groin while he stifles a groan. “This is where I always sit. Everything okay, teddy?” You ask.

“Fuck this.”

And within a second, your cheek is being pressed against the wood of your desk as Theodore leans over you, rutting his clothed hips against your plush ass. You win the game, by the way, you win it for SEVERAL hours.

Theodore loses his shit when he learns that no one else participated in the game, and he could have been balls deep in his girl on day one.

[pussyydestroyer]

“First date”

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: Tara and you work at a store in New York, having to restock some things on a weekend as punishment.

Warning: None. Y/n is just a little awkward and nervous around Sam, plus alcohol and all that stuff.

Word count: 6.3k

A/n: It's basically the story of Usnavi and Vanessa (played by Melissa Barrera) in In the heights but these are F!reader and Sam with some details changed and different from the musical so that Sam's character in Scream fits better 😋

I was inspired by The Club but wanted to expand it further to get to that part

“Stop being a jerk and come help me!” You shout as soon as you walk through the door with a large box in your hands, and you see Tara standing at the register doing absolutely nothing.

Completely bewildered, she raises her head and reluctantly puts her phone aside when she sees you giving her a withering, amused look. “Okay, okay. I’m coming.”

She gets up from where she was and walks with slow, unmotivated steps until she reaches you, walks around you, and enters the warehouse, where the other boxes are to refill the shelves with food.

“Thanks,” you say sarcastically with a knowing smile, only for her to shake her head mockingly in response, making you chuckle.

Tara and you are friends from college, you being the oldest by two years. You’ve both been working at a store for a couple of months, hoping to earn some money for yourselves.

One day, she showed you a post she found online about a small shop looking for staff. At first, you were skeptical of the place because of the reviews, but the next day they were both hired since the owner was desperate for workers.

The job was relatively easy; they just had to serve the few customers who showed up and restock the shelves and vending machines whenever the food ran out or expired.

They spent so much time together in college and at work that they got to the point where they became very close.

"Why are we doing this?" she exclaims tiredly as she carries a box to the other side of the room, even though she hasn't moved from her seat since the day began. "I mean, it's Saturday. We shouldn't be doing this."

Tara was right. Her contract had a set schedule that meant she didn't work weekends. But it was both of their punishments for doing so.

You laugh and roll your eyes as you pull some candy that had expired a few days ago off the shelf. "Maybe it's because someone was caught idling and eating the store's merchandise?"

A few days ago, both of them were literally lying on the counter watching some silly YouTube video since there hadn't been any customers for a couple of hours. So they decided to eat a snack or two to pass the time.

Only when you open a can of soda does the owner appear and see them not doing their homework and with empty wrappers in plain sight.

They make up terribly lame excuses so that in the end, he decides to check the cameras and discover that they haven't moved from their spot for about four hours.

With amusement and feigned annoyance, she tidies up the shelf across from yours. "Speak for yourself. I only ate one potato chip."

“Liar. You also had three wrappers of chocolates on the counter,” you exclaim, squinting at her expectantly through the small slits.

You feel her shifting in place as she giggles and continues tidying.

“It was exam week, okay? I was anxious about the results.” You roll your eyes and nod in mock understanding at her perfectly valid excuse. She laughs with you before adding, “And don’t act like a saint, you ate things from here too.”

You feign hurt, placing a hand on your chest, then speak more calmly. “And I totally accept the blame.”

You simply laugh, glancing at each other as you finish arranging the things on the shelf for when the door opens, ringing a small bell that signals when someone enters or leaves.

You peer at Tara through the cracks and tilt your head in a quick motion toward the counter.

"I know," she sighs before dropping what she was doing and heading behind the counter to wait for the woman who just entered to pay.

You smile sarcastically at her for a few moments before placing the last few treats.

You take a quick look around the store to check if anything else needed restocking until the completely empty refrigerator behind you catches your attention.

You pick up the box you just emptied and walk toward the storage area to get the drinks to restock.

You go back inside, humming a song with a carefree expression on your face, heading toward the previously empty refrigerator.

You turn slightly when the bell rings again, noticing Tara engrossed in her phone and the woman gone.

You smile to yourself before returning your attention to your task.

You wanted to get this done as soon as possible without distractions so you could enjoy your weekend. Even though you didn't have any plans, the best thing you could do was stay locked in your place watching TV shows until late.

The place fell silent for a few minutes, with only your low humming heard, until that small bell rang again.

The silence was instantly interrupted by murmurs of happiness in the distance.

You listened briefly to the conversation, wondering if all the happiness was due to the fact that it was a friend of Tara's, as you took out some energy drinks.

"Hey y/n, look who's here." Tara's enthusiastic voice pulled you out of your thoughts, but you continued on with your own business, never taking your eyes off the drinks.

“What’s up?” Crouching down, you gesture with your hand, oblivious to what was happening, thinking it might be Mindy, who regularly passed by.

You hear laughter from the other corner and a mock clearly coming from Tara.

You add a few cans to the fridge, ignoring her words and managing to hear footsteps coming toward you.

You hum again, your attention fixed on the fridge.

The cool air hitting your face was refreshing and satisfying in the sweltering heat.

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, along with the task at hand, that it took you a good couple of seconds to realize someone was standing next to you.

You turned around calmly, but upon seeing the person next to you, your heart raced, taking all your strength not to drop the can from your hands.

The basic skills of any human being faded from your system. You hadn’t expected Sam to be in the store, much less standing in front of you. Her expression was calm and stern.

From the close range, you managed to capture her slightly messy hair and her skin glistening with sweat, assuming she'd just worked out or left the gym.

Still, that didn't take away from how beautiful she looked.

The time it took you to examine her seemed like an eternity, internally cursing yourself as you felt your face heat up and simultaneously praying that she wouldn't notice your slight blush.

From the moment Sam entered your life, you had a small crush on her.

Tara had talked to you about her a couple of times before, even shown you pictures, but nothing compared to the time Sam arrived to pick Tara up from college.

When you first saw her get out of her car, her hair blowing in the wind. Watching her like a kid yearning from afar for something in a toy store.

From then on, you knew your life wasn't going to be so easy with her on your mind.

There had been times before where you'd run into each other by chance or because your connection was through knowing Tara, but it never went beyond a friendly greeting with a few exchanges.

Sometimes it could be a little awkward because you got so nervous around her, and Tara seemed to pick up on the tension between you two from all the times she teased you about her sister.

"Hi" you finally managed, a goofy smile tugging at your lips.

"Hi" she reciprocated in a soft, cheerful voice. Everything around you stopped the instant your gazes met.

The glances and smiles lasted longer than you expected. Honestly, you didn't know what else to do after that.

Sam felt the same way, but her face didn't change to discomfort or embarrassment. However, she moved her hand forward toward you.

At first, you didn't know what she wanted to do since her movements were hesitant, until you realized Sam wanted a drink from the refrigerator.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." Embarrassed, scratching the back of your neck, you took a step back, then bumped into the open refrigerator door.

A blush spread across your face, hating yourself for acting so awkwardly in front of her.

It was always the same. Every time you tried to impress a girl, you ended up acting completely different from your normal self. And Sam was no exception to your clumsiness.

She simply chuckled and waited for you to walk away so she could get an energy drink. “Thank you.”

Her voice sent a chill through your body, making your heart beat faster. “You’re welcome.”

The words came out in a stuttering whisper as you were once again mesmerized by her brown eyes.

The two of you remained in a slightly awkward silence. Neither of you dared to move away or say a word; you just stared at each other with a hint of something neither of you could decipher.

Tara, who had been watching this whole scene from afar with regret and shame etched on her face, decided to interrupt. “Hey, Sam.” She waited for Sam to turn around before she could continue. “Y/n wants to ask you out, did you know that?”

Your breath stopped at that same instant as you broke out in a cold sweat upon hearing Tara’s words.

Your head swiveled sharply to look at Tara, who was wearing a wicked smile.

It never crossed your mind that she would do something like this, but this definitely caught you off guard, causing you to freeze completely, along with your stomach tightening in your abdomen.

Tara smiles triumphantly at seeing you in this state, knowing she had you in her grasp.

“I-…” You tried to excuse yourself, to say anything, but Sam was quicker, turning to you again with an anxious expression and genuine happiness.

“Oh, really?”

“I…” You’d never been in a bind like this before. You didn’t know what to do or say to dont make her feel bad. “I mean-”

“Yeah. That's what we were talking about this morning, wasn't it, Y/N?” Tara interrupts again, making Sam's smile grow at her.

Every time Tara opens her mouth, you think she's going to save you from this predicament, but she only makes it worse and worse, turning you into a nervous, clumsy mess.

You stutter for a moment, looking from Sam to Tara repeatedly, as if that would get you out of this dilemma.

“Yup, well…” you stuttered longer than you meant to, unsure of what to say next until Sam interrupts you with moderate excitement.

“Where do you want to take me?” she says mischievously, her interest piquing further with each of Tara's words to help you with the mess she started.

“To the club a few blocks from the subway,” Tara adds playfully, mockingly, before looking at you and continuing. “She’s really eager to take you there. Really.”

Sam seems more and more convinced about the idea of going out with you, which makes you even more nervous when you see her expression. “I heard it’s a good place.”

“Yeah, it is,” you smile, scratching the back of your neck, desperately trying to say something more. “We can go this afternoon… if you want, of course.”

You bite the inside of your cheek for speaking too quickly, thinking you’ve ruined everything with the way Sam stares at you without any response.

Finally, she nods in approval, and a genuine smile appears on her face as she reaches for her phone in her pockets.

“Here. Here’s my number so we can clarify the details further.”

She extends her hand toward you, her phone number flashing on the screen.

At first, you stare at it in bewilderment, not understanding what she’s doing until your mind clicks.

“Oh, yes,” you fumble in your clothing pockets to find your phone. You take it out and quickly write down her phone number.

She laughs and waits for you to do so before putting her phone back in the same place she had it before.

"Nos vemos" she says in a low, mischievous voice, then turns and leaves, not before saying goodbye to her sister.

Your heart pounded loudly in your ears, feeling like you could faint at any moment.

Your mind replayed what had just happened, unable to truly believe that you had a date with Sam.

She was already gone, but you were still trying to come back to earth as you held onto the fridge.

Little by little, Tara's laughter crept back into your ears.

"Why the fuck did you do all that?" You spat out in embarrassment and annoyance as your senses returned to normal.

She was almost out of breath, tears in her eyes from the fit of laughter at the situation she'd gotten you into.

You turned around and banged your forehead against the glass door of the refrigerator, waiting for Tara to finish teasing you and for your blush to fade.

Finally, she stopped laughing and spoke breathlessly, "No. I saved you from making a complete fool of yourself in front of her. You're welcome."

She was partly right, but you weren't going to admit it after how stupid and useless you'd acted because of Tara and her interventions.

You tapped the glass

with your forehead repeatedly, trying to gather your racing, anxious thoughts. "What am I going to do now?"

"Go on a date with my sister, maybe?"

You groan softly as you tap it once more, then press your forehead against the cold glass, knowing full well that she finds your condition amusing. “Did you see how I just acted? I look like a complete idiot in front of her. I won't even last five minutes before I ruin everything.”

Tara's expression softens at hearing you speak about yourself like that. She wanted to continue teasing you, but she took pity this time. “Relax, everything will be okay, don't worry.”

She waited for your reaction to her gentle words, but seeing that you weren't reacting the way she wanted, she decided to add, “You have a point in your favor. She likes you.”

Your heart pounded again. You turned around quickly to see any hint of a joke or a lie in her expression, but all you could see was sincerity. “Really?”

She smiled at you, hearing your yearning and decided to continue encouraging you. “Of course. She wouldn't have agreed if she didn't.”

A little confidence returned to you, hoping everything that happened later would be perfect.

You took out your phone with a glimmer of hope in your eyes as you saw Sam's profile on the screen. “I'll try not to screw this up.”

Hours passed, and as if in the blink of an eye, you were standing on the subway, staring at your nervous expression through the reflection of the doors.

After closing up shop a few hours earlier, you texted Sam to arrange a time and place where the two of you would meet.

When Sam finally answered, clearing things up, you immediately changed into something more comfortable and casual, but not too elegant to distinguish the fact that you were going to a club.

Your reflection vanished in an instant when the doors opened, allowing you to get off the train.

You walked with a knot in your stomach as you wiped your sweaty hands on your clothes until you reached the meeting point where the two of you had decided to meet.

Not seeing her anywhere, you decided to wait for some sign of her.

You straightened your clothes over and over again, hoping to look good for her, only to look up and find her walking toward you.

She shakes her hand, and you can't help but watch her every move.

"Shall we go?" Her sweet voice hits you, bringing you back to reality when she's close enough to you.

You shake your head slightly with an almost shy smile, "Let's go."

The night was cool and refreshing, with a silence that at first felt a bit awkward as you walked side by side.

Their arms occasionally brushed against each other, making you even more nervous than you already were, until Sam broke the silence by asking a couple of questions.

You sighed in relief at no longer being burdened by your racing thoughts and readily answered her little interrogation.

Gradually, you became less nervous as you spent more time with her.

Walking and talking with Sam, letting go more and more, you realized that longing for her from afar was a complete and total waste of time.

She's so sweet and so funny that every time she made you laugh with little jokes, you blushed, admiring her beauty at the same time.

If you weren't so shy and dumb, you could have enjoyed this a long time ago.

They continued walking and chatting for a bit longer before loud music and flashy lights caught both of their attention.

Despite being a few steps away from the club, you couldn't stop paying attention to the lights Sam had told you about earlier during your walk here.

“Damn, this is nice…” You say with a hint of admiration as you look at the enormous place. “I really like what they've done with the lights.”

She laughs, rolling her eyes and gently nudging you, thinking you were making fun of her for previously exaggerating about the venue's extravagant lights.

The thick air of the place hits them along with the loud music as they barely step foot inside.

In one corner, there was a group of people gathered at the bar, and another group of people dancing on the dance floor to their own beat.

“You might be right, this music's tight.” You look at her with complicity and amusement, having to raise your voice so she could hear you over all the noise.

You follow Sam through the crowd to explore the place a bit, watching her laugh again, making your heart beat faster. “I told you!”

None of them had been here before. You could say Sam knew the place better than you did, based on the experiences her friends told her.

You followed Sam, who walked deeper into the place, piquing both of your interest and curiosity with every step you took.

The fact that you hadn't said anything in a while, along with the music pounding your eardrums, made you feel even more nervous and restless.

You didn't want to ruin a beautiful evening that was starting off really well.

You felt the urge to say something, anything to calm down a little.

"Did I mention that you look great tonight?"

Sam stops and turns slightly, noticing a smile from something you couldn't quite understand on her face.

Their eyes meet, causing you to scratch the back of your neck and continue speaking quickly. "Because you do, you really—"

"Hey, relax," she interrupts, gently taking your hand in hers, noticing that you're back to being as nervous as you were at the beginning.

Behind all the noise, you managed to hear the softness of her voice, as if it were just the two of you in the vast space.

You sighed with relief, feeling calmer with the comfort of her words. “Yeah, alright.” She smiled at you, squeezing your hand once more before letting go. “I’m relaxed.”

You didn’t know how, but from one moment to the next, you were both dancing across from each other on the dance floor.

You watched with awe and amusement as Sam moved with grace and rhythm, her hips and arms swaying to the beat of the music.

Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she danced in front of you as you did the same.

Her body moved freely and passionately, creating an exciting spectacle.

Time seemed to stand still when you were with her.

The more you watched her eyes, her hair moving with every movement, her smile, a warm feeling welled up in your chest.

Despite all the hardships and self-sabotage you inflicted on yourself, you enjoyed being with her far more than you ever would with anyone else.

“Maybe you and I should hang out some more…” You say without giving your words a second thought. She looks at you skeptically when you begin to slow down, realizing what you’d said out loud.

“I’m such a dork, but I-” You apologize, a little embarrassed, but before you could ruin it again, she interrupts you, pulling you closer so you could hear her. “Let’s go get a drink.”

You were completely grateful to whatever it was that Sam interrupted you every time you messed up.

Her slightly agitated voice sent light shivers down your spine.

You tried to put that thought behind you, accepting and walking with her again to the bar, which wasn’t that far away. “Something sweet.”

Sam seemed to like your suggestion, nodding and looking at you knowingly, as if you were both connected. “You know me, a little cinnamon.”

You walked peacefully, interrupted only by the din of music and people, to the bar.

Upon reaching the small space, Sam silently gestured that she would get the drinks. You nodded, knowing she would bring the same thing for both of you.

You couldn’t help but watch her figure as she slowly walked away and disappeared from your sight a moment later.

You didn't believe in love at first sight, but after this date, you'd openly admit that you were completely in love with her.

You headed off to find a table so you and Sam could rest and be more comfortable after dancing earlier.

"yo, be more careful," you heard a familiar voice as you clumsily backed away and bumped into a table.

You turned around to find Mindy sitting there with a smile, a bit dazed from the alcohol, you assumed, and a drink in her hand.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" You looked at her in amusement as you reached out to shake her hand in a friendly gesture.

Mindy laughs, squeezing your hand, then lets go and takes a sip before answering. “I came with my girl to have a good time,” she says playfully before turning her head from side to side as if she's looking for someone. “But apparently she went to get more alcohol or something.”

You laugh, thinking that her girlfriend, Anika, and Sam might be meet at the bar, but you didn't want to bring it up yet.

Mindy was a fun and witty person. You met her through Tara a while ago and immediately liked her personality.

You and her don't hang out much, but when the opportunity arises, you talk for hours on end.

She looks at you, sizing you up and down inquisitively.

“So what are you doing here? I don't think you came alone,” she says curiously, raising an eyebrow.

You just laugh and roll your eyes, sitting in the seat across from Mindy while her girlfriend was gone. “Well…” you stammered, not wanting to say who you came with, but knowing you would have to say it eventually. “Yes. I came with someone.”

“So? Who’s the lucky one?”

You ran your fingers along the edge of the table briefly, not wanting to brag, but the way you smiled let Mindy know she was someone special to you. “I came with Sam.”

Her jaw almost dropped at the information.

She didn’t think you’d ever be able to hang out with Sam, which took her by surprise. “No way… really?”

You nodded, blushing slightly at her slightly drunken and exaggerated expression. “Yup.”

She took a deep sip of her drink, which you didn’t know what it was, to process it properly. “I never thought it was possible. Congratulations.”

You continued to play with the edge of the table, your smile lingering. “Thank you, I guess?”

She shook her head, closing her eyes for a brief moment. “No. I mean it. Congratulations.”

Your expression softened at her supportive words, even though you clearly thought this was impossible. But thankfully, it happened.

“Ever since Tara told me you were madly in love with her sister, I never thought you could date her…”

Your eyes widened, your blush deepening at the exaggeration in her words. “I’m not—” You tried to interrupt her to clarify that you’d only had a minor, non-obsessive crush for some time now, but she wasn’t listening.

“After all these years.”

You smiled warmly at her constant exaggeration, appreciating the sincerity beneath all the alcohol in her system.

Just as you were about to express your gratitude, Mindy stopped a waitress who was passing by, taking two shots, which, judging by the color, were probably tequila.

She placed one in front of you while extending her hand with the other tequila, wanting to make a toast. “To finally getting Samantha.”

You grabbed the tequila, laughing at all this before raising your hand and clinking the small glasses together.

“Cheers!” You said in unison and then drank.

Between laughter and the bitter taste of the drink going down your throat, Sam arrived with two glasses in each hand.

Your body temperature rose again when you saw her, slightly disheveled, placing the glass on the table.

A completely silly smile appeared on your face, but Sam didn't notice it as she greeted Mindy.

She stayed by your side the whole time, watching as she made small talk with Mindy while you sipped.

The pleasant atmosphere didn't last long when a guy arrived at the table out of nowhere, standing right behind Sam. "Hey, you!"

His arrogantly smug voice would almost irritate you if it weren't for the fact that Sam turned around reluctantly, knowing full well that she was being spoken to.

"Who?" The expression of disinterest when talking to him was very noticeable.

"You!"

"Who, me?"

Sam pretended not to understand, responding sharply to the other guy. Deep down, she knew what would happen if she continued talking to him, and she didn't want to.

"You wanna dance?"

She continued her arrogant little game, avoiding contact with him as much as possible.

The guy seemed like a hateful person, and if she could, she would tell him so. "Nah, man."

The guy simply laughed at his defeat, taking a step back and stopping his insistence, understanding that Sam was absolutely against being with him. “Okay, I took my chance.”

Watching the small conversation between the two of them from the silence, you somehow felt bad for the poor guy who was immediately rejected by Sam, even though you could tell she had the same feelings for him.

“It’s cool, it’s cool… hey if you want to.”

You absolutely didn't want Sam to go with someone else. It was your date with her, and you wanted to spend the rest of it with her, but your mouth betrayed you as always.

She looks at you expectantly, surprised that you'd let her be with some random on her own on a night that should have been between you two.

Her smile, once one of happiness, vanished completely from her face.

"You don't mind?" You recognized that look of anger and betrayal anywhere, even though it was the first time you'd seen it on her.

You bite the inside of your cheek, wanting to avoid any eye contact from her, but her eyes bore deeply into you.

You swallow hard, holding your breath as you feel Sam's irritated gaze and the other guy's triumphant one. "I'm fine, I'm fine."

She stares at you for a while longer, waiting for you to say something to fix the mess you just made, but nothing comes out.

You watch as she walks away, heading for the dance floor with someone other than you.

When she's completely out of your sight, you breathe normally again.

Your mind spins with flashbacks of how stupid you just were, along with Sam's cold stare.

You grab the glass Sam had brought for the two of you to share and take a deep sip, scrunching your face.

Mindy, who was completely oblivious to what was happening at the table, sees Sam leave with someone else, surprising her more than you expected. "Who's Sam talking to?"

"Some dude..." you say listlessly, sprawled across the table as you watch the alcohol swirl as the glass rolls in your hands.

She raises her eyebrows as her drunken mind connects the dots of something she didn't fully witness. “That’s messed up, she’s trying to make you jealous.”

You raise your head from your spite and look at her as if you were talking to someone completely sane.

Was Sam trying to make you jealous? Why would she do that?

That’s why Sam immediately left with him without objecting or mentioning that you and her were together in the first place. You think about your naiveté.

“Jealous? I ain’t jealous, I can take this fella, whatever.”

It was clear you couldn’t.

The minutes passed, and you were already tired of being the third wheel between Mindy and Anika

You kept glancing at the dance floor in case you could spot Sam anywhere. But there was no sign of her.

You were starting to worry, but deep down, you knew she could handle any idiot who crossed her path.

You felt bad for letting her go dancing with a stranger.

You just wanted to be with her, but you'd already ruined that.

You sighed heavily, banging your head against the table, making a small noise that no one heard.

Turning your head, raising your gaze after a brief moment of cursing yourself, you saw a head of red hair that was easily recognizable anywhere.

If Sam wanted to make you jealous, you can make it happen too. You told yourself, remembering Mindy's drunken words.

Probably the effects of the alcohol were also starting to kick in, which is why you were working up the nerve to go talk to Quinn, who was selflessly chatting with a guy.

Ever since you've known Quinn, she's always flirted with you, making double entendre, or complimenting you on everything.

You just avoid her, dodging her constant suggestives by pretending not to understand.

You knew she had a bad reputation for hooking up with anyone who caught her eye, and to your misfortune, you had caught hers.

But that didn't matter at this point; you just wanted to piss Sam off a little.

The boy immediately gets up from his seat, leaving Quinn alone and relieved for a moment until her eyes sparkle with desire as she sees you approaching.

"Hey..." Quinn says slyly as you sit across from her, where the other boy had previously been.

You don't want to have a social interaction with her, much less end up in a situation you'd regret later. So you interrupt her, starting to speak rapidly.

“Look, I know you do this with everyone, and the truth is, I'm not interested in you. I just want to make someone jealous, and you probably don't give a fuck about that, but this will be the closest thing to having my full attention. So let's go to the bar or something to satisfy your self-absorbed facade once and for all.”

She remains silent for a few seconds, staring at you with amusement, as if she were holding back a laugh.

This awkward silence, coupled with her intense gaze, made your hair stand on end. But she finally responds with a curt nod

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Before grabbing your wrist, forcing you to abruptly get up to go to the bar.

Between her leading you to take another drink and the increasing number of people, it made your curiosity and concern for Sam grow.

You looked everywhere for her, but there was no sign of her dancing with anyone or drinking.

Your concentration shifted elsewhere as Quinn flirtatiously asked the bartender for drinks.

Being with her felt like a punishment.

You just nodded or fake laughed whenever she spoke or said something supposedly funny.

Every now and then you looked up to see if Sam was around, but you were already considering the idea that she was gone.

Sadly, you continued your performance in front of Quinn, taking a big sip of something you weren't used to drinking.

Just as you were losing all hope, you saw Sam alone in the distance, heading through the door they'd entered a few hours ago.

You apologize to Quinn before hastily getting up to follow Sam.

Your heart was pounding as you pushed through the crush of people.

You'd made a huge difference with her today, and the thought of losing her in an instant was more suffocating than when you'd tried to talk to Sam this morning.

"Sam! Hold on, hold on!" you shout from outside the club, seeing her in the distance.

She turns around irritably, and you put the hands on your knees to catch your breath from running.

You lift your head to meet her upset gaze. "Why are you leaving? I mean, we're having a good time, aren't we?" you say agitatedly.

Her eyes widen in disbelief.

“If having a good time means leaving me with an idiot so you can flirt with someone else, then yes. I had a great time.”

You gritted your teeth at the venom in her sarcasm.

You felt a little happy that your plan to make her jealous with Quinn had worked, but this wasn't the time to celebrate.

You fell silent for a moment, considering your next words.

“I- I wasn't flirting with anyone…” You admit, your tone lower as you regain your composure. Sam notices your meek behavior, softening her features just a bit. “I was just hanging out with someone else because I thought you were having fun with another one.”

“Of course I wasn't having fun with him!” “I came here to be with you, ¡no con un completo idiota!” she yells again, but this time she takes a few steps toward you. Seeing this, you do the same.

“Look. I'm sorry, okay?” Your words are more confident now as you move forward, staring at her with determination. “When you're around me, I act like a fool, and I admit it.”

Sam was perplexed by your confession. She'd noticed your behavior, but didn't believe you'd admit it so openly.

She quickly examined you without moving from her spot.

There was still a wide gap between you, giving you the confidence to clarify your feelings.

"I never know what to do or say when you talk to me or look at me. I become a total mess and you know it."

She avoids smiling to maintain her angry facade; instead, she just nods.

You were no longer embarrassed or anxious. You'd spent so much time with Sam that you'd grown accustomed to her intense but pleasant gaze.

"Even Tara had to help me ask you out when I wasn't even thinking about it right now."

You both laughed at the memory of what had happened, unaware that Sam was laughing and taking a few steps forward.

You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself, with the constant fear that Sam wouldn't want to see you ever again.

"And yes, I know that I screw up by not intervening when the guy came over and flirted with you, and I feel bad about it.”

The brief silence that fills the space is almost deafening.

There's no more music, no more loud people; it's just you and her, along with the constant pounding of your heart in your ears as you stare directly into her beautiful brown eyes.

“I had a great time tonight, and I just want you to forgive me—” Her soft lips capture yours, forcing you to stop talking.

You hadn't realized she was so close to you, the kiss taking you by surprise.

When your mind finally clicked, you melted in that instant, parting your lips and allowing her tongue to slide past.

You raised your hands, not knowing where to put them.

Sam noticed this and guided one of them to her lower back, making you gasp against her.

You were always curious to know what it was like to feel Sam so close to you, and you couldn't believe this was finally happening.

The kiss slowly grew more intense, heating your bodies more and more.

You had to admit that the way she gently tugged at your hair with her hand tangled in it drove you crazy, but not now.

The lack of air ruined the moment, and you reluctantly pulled away so you could catch it.

She looked at you panting with her eyes half-closed, while you stood with your gaze wide open, shocked by all of this.

"Yes... I forgive you."

At first, you couldn't understand what she meant, but slowly your mind came out of the lustful haze. "Right."

She rolled her eyes before leaning closer to you and laughing, resting her forehead against your shoulder.

You were still coming down from the intensity of things, so you simply placed a hand on the back of her head, completely distracted and out of it.

She breathed deeply, feeling her body press against yours.

She moved away slightly to take your hand in hers and resume her walk. "Let's go."

You intertwined your fingers as she did so as you began walking.

The peace and tranquility of your mind was interrupted when you turned to look at the club, which was now further away than you thought. "I thought we'd go inside again."

She nodded with feigned reasoning, then gave you a quick, playful glance. "Yeah, well, I'd rather finish this at my place."

The mischievous way she said it made you not doubt her other intentions at all, causing a smile to spread across your face due to the shiver she gave you. "Alright”

[lsunstreakerl]

offering to you guys like a torn piece of scrapbook paper. this was a fun little exercise I used to jog the brain into wanting to write words again. it's five hundred words of sulky teenager max in an AU.

Max is sitting on the floor of the laundry room at 3 in the morning, legs stretched out in front of him. His knee is killing him from an accidental wall slam earlier, and he's pretty sure his left pinky toe is fucked for life.

He'd made his best attempt at rinsing all the blood out before tossing his suit in the washer, but it's spinning frothy pink in front of him, which is... not a great sign. He should've used more laundry detergent.

One of the lights is flickering the corner of the room. It's abandoned this early in the morning, just Max and the buzz of the fluorescent lights, the tumble of the washer.

He picks at the bandage around his forearm. It's a slipshod setup, something Daniel had hastily thrown together right before they both got their shit rocked.

He's supposed to go get it checked out, but he's pretty sure if he goes to the infirmary after hours because he couldn't dodge poison again, Nurse Raikkonen is going to kill him. It'll be the third time this month.

It's the 16th. Max can put it off until later in the morning, probably.

He sighs, gets lost in the repetitive motion of the washer in front of him. He should've brought a change of clothes- sitting in his boxers on the laundromat floor is absolutely not sanitary, but with the way his month has been going, Max is just going to live with it.

He had chemistry homework due a few hours ago, and he's got a class he needs to be up for in-

He checks his phone. The screen is cracked, again, because he forgot to leave it in the helicopter when they jumped, and it happily traveled through three layers of concrete with him earlier.

-Four hours.

He drops his head back against the dryer behind him with a dull thud. It doesn't do anything for his headache, but he's used to that. The washer reads ten more minutes, which actually means closer to twenty.

Max can probably get a head start on his sleep here. He assesses, makes a game out of it like it's actually a drop-in.

Environment? Mostly safe, the only structural danger here is the damaged support beam, and it's been like that for almost a year since Carlos accidentally set it on fire.

Civilians? None.

Enemies? It's Max's suit vs the laundry detergent- he's not worried.

Self evaluation? He's in his boxers, his leg hurts, there's a laceration on his arm that is probably a really disturbing color right now, and he might be seeing double. He's not sure if that's the headache or the sleep deprivation talking.

Probable outcomes? Max sees two. The first is that he falls asleep here, wakes up in time to run his suit back up to the dorms, and maybe gets to class without being late again. The second is that he closes his eyes for a nap and accidentally sleeps through two class periods, and doesn't wake up until the juniors come in for their weekly laundry day.

The first option has happened a grand total of zero times. The second option happens a couple times a week.

Max closes his eyes anyways.

[spatialwave]

taking aspiration from your ankle, i'm so sorry😭 but... limoreau where jordan or marie have a broken/strained ankle and one of them has to take care of the other (i know they're supers but i'm gonna ignore that lol)

SCREAMING SKFKDDN… if anyone knows a thing or two about bad ankles it’s me.

-

living a busy life as a student and t.a. had left jordan working anywhere from sixty to eighty-hour weeks. there was an abundance of full-time classes, homework and grading papers with most days starting at 6 a.m. and ending at 6 p.m., oftentimes later. they didn't mind the busy lifestyle, though, marie could see under that facade the stress that was beginning to eat them away.

there was an old belief that marie's mom believed in, that sickness and injuries were often the universe's way of telling you to slow down and relax. marie was reminded of that belief once or twice when she was younger and working tirelessly away for her school projects and riddled with stress, only to be hit with a terrible cold that would leave her on bed rest for a couple days.

she always found it to be so odd, why would the universe make you sick if it felt like you needed to relax? there was so much to worry about when you were sick.

then she got older and it began to make sense. the more she let stress eat her away and the less she focused on her well-being — the universe would remind her that she need to learn how to take time to just exist (in a twisted sort of way).

that belief came to mind when jordan had called them early in the morning one day, their heavy breath audible through the phone as they explained to marie that they needed help. a sprained ankle, the last thing they needed to disrupt their busy week.

jordan was mad about it, especially when luke and andre were called by marie to help get jordan back to their dorm. it was so fucking embarrassing, but marie was so damn good at making them feel okay about it. she didn’t hesitate on finding brink and explaining the situation, that jordan would be out of commission for a few days. she comforted jordan’s worries with the old wives’ tale that her mom would say — maybe it was the universe telling them to slow the fuck down. it was laughable at first, but the sentiment kept them from exploding into a ball of stress.

“this sucks, moreau,” jordan was laying in bed with their foot resting on a couple pillows, elevated. they let out a slight hiss in pain as marie adjusted the tensor compression bandage over their swollen ankle, her fingers moving carefully as she murmured a soft ‘sorry’ under her breath, “it’s totally messing with my goddamn routine.”

“it’s been four hours, jordan,” marie snorted through a smile, her eyes looking up at them as she clasped the bandage tight and set the ice pack back on the injured joint, “give it a few days and you’ll be back to being jitter bean’s most loyal morning customer.”

jordan rolled their eyes away from marie with a huff, trying not to let her teasing remark actually make them smile; they were back to feeling frustrated about the situation. with another dramatic huff they readjusted themselves on the bed, reaching behind them to try fix the pile of pillows they were laying against.

“let me,” marie murmured, quickly moving to jordan’s side and motioning for them to lean forward so they could fluff the pillows, “is that good?”

jordan sighed as they leaned back, looking up at marie with a sheepish nod. the worst part about the injury was how helpless they felt. being fiercely independent wasn’t going to help this situation. “you don’t have to stay. you’re missing classes.” their voice was soft as they spoke, gaze flickering away.

“it’s fine, i told you already. i’ll catch up.”

jordan leaned forward again, “but it’s not the same as-“

“jordan.” marie spoke with sternness in her voice, a hand reaching out to their chest as she guided them back against the pillows, “it’s fine.”

a disgruntled sigh came from them, but they didn’t fight back. jordan forced themselves to relax against the pillows and lifted a hand up to rest over marie’s, grabbing it gently so they could bring it to their lips and press a chaste kiss over her knuckles.

“thank you,” they murmured against her skin, “i’ll make this worth your while once i’m back on two feet.”

marie giggled, pulling her hand from them, then walked around the bed so she could let herself collapse beside them, “oh, yeah? a morning jitter bean coffee date?”

“fuck you.”

“kidding!” marie laughed harder now, moving to rest up on her elbow so she could have some height over jordan while she composed herself, “just buy me a nice dinner and we’ll call it even.” she said as she lifted a hand to their cheek, thumb brushing skin.

“okay,” they whispered, smiling as they nuzzled their face against her hand and appreciated the physical affection for a few moments. guided by the heat of the moment, jordan moved their body towards marie so they could press their lips together, but a groan followed right after when they twisted their ankle in an unfavourable position, “fuck.”

marie pulled back slowly, the hand that was on their cheek was on their chest once more, guiding them right back to where they were, “easy now.” she said as she tried to fight off a smile, “we can do more of that in a few days.”

“this is fucking torture. the universe fucking hates me.” jordan breathed out, running their hands over their face.

“it doesn’t hate you. it just wants you to remember to take care of yourself…” marie murmured, “or to at least remind you that i’m here to help.”

jordan watched as marie tucked herself neatly against their side, remote in hand as she moved her attention back to the television they’d been watching earlier before marie rewrapped the ankle. they admired her for a few moments, easily reminded that they’d be losing their mind if she wasn’t here.

“just try to relax, okay?” she spoke up, tilting her head back to meet jordan’s gaze, a small smile adorned on her lip, “and let me know whenever you need something. don’t be stubborn.”

jordan’s lips cracked into a smile and they could feel their heart flutter in their chest. “i love you.”

“i love you too, dork.” she giggled.

[thebemoon]

How Thebe Writes

I just took a fun writing survey and thought I'd share the results:

How long does it take you to write a chapter? To finish a whole story?

It varies widely depending on how long the chapter is and where it is in the story. I write my early chapters pretty quickly, sometimes a new chapter every four hours, because at that point I'm all excited and it's new. At about chapter 10, I slow down, and near the end, a single chapter can take weeks.

What draws you to write certain tropes? Where does inspiration come from?

I like Eighth Year because it's the closest timewise to the original series, so it feels like a continuation of canon. It's also interesting to explore how everyone is adjusting post-war, some better than others.

One of my WIPs has Dramione in their 40s. I love reading stories about the characters when they're older, and wanted to try my own hand at it.

Inspiration is everywhere, both for my Dramione stories and for other pairings. Usually an odd situation will pop into my mind and I'll feel compelled to explore it, a What If: What if Hermione didn't want to be a prim bookworm anymore? What if Draco kept trying to be bad but failed at it? What if politician Hermione could read minds? What if Hermione refused to help Harry and Ron with their homework anymore and they flipped out? I have a long list of What Ifs that I'll never be able to write.

How much time do you spend on OTHER people’s work? Alpha-ing or beta-ing for friends? Reading, commenting, promoting for others? Encouraging a friend you love who is in a slump?

I read a lot of Dramione, and try to take my Editor hat off when I do it. I'm careful to approach fanfic in a nonjudgmental way because that takes a lot of fun out of it. I've been trying to comment more than I have in the past because I know how encouraging comments can be. I have some writer friends that I love to support.

what brings you joy while writing? What gets you down?

Writing itself is a joy and stress release for me. I purposely don't use an alpha or beta because I love the total power over the story. I actually enjoy the writing process, even when it's challenging, and like to mutter to myself and eat a lot of snacks.

What gets me down — seeing other fics get bashed or get rude, entitled comments and criticism. I'm fortunate that my readers are almost entirely awesome, but it upsets me when other writers aren't treated well. When fics are bashed, it can upset not only the writer, but other writers or would-be writers who then get discouraged. And everyone loses.

[sunstream7]

Then tell me why we’re both still on the line

>1972 words

>Oc x Canon

>The companion to this drawing. Ayla struggles with naming a feeling that any semi self-aware person would call 'heartache.'

================================================

Six years.

Well. Six years on and off. Probably three if she was being generous. But still. It was the principle of the matter. Ayla was the best at many things. The best skater of her generation (in the state of california at least, anywhere else she was just one of the best.) the best academically (Not counting Nate, and only when she really tried, and not in math class) and the best pick. The number one choice of many people. 

Not Everett Gray.

She knew she wouldn't be his best friend- she had no desire to be (and was pretty sure Nate would actually blow a blood vessel at the implication. Everett too, maybe) but she was that best choice. She had been since they were thirteen. They were good together. Even their parents thought so. 

The only real kicker was that they weren't together. And they never had been. 

Some; read as ‘Nate Lawson’; would argue that they were. And she supposed it made sense. But why bother making it something official. Everett had frozen up the one time she mentioned it at the end of their freshman year, and upon talking it over with her sister, Aileen (and some unneeded input from her mother) Ayla decided that it was fine the way it was. Platonic affection and physical attraction. Someone you could kiss sometimes but who would also spend three hours on the phone with you talking shit about anyone and everyone. The best of both worlds.

Ayla was not a violent woman, but she really wished she wasn't five foot four. It would make punching that rat bastard new boy in the jaw just a little easier. 

She wouldn't actually. One- she chose life. He was jacked and a little bit terrifying. And Two- it wasn't directly his fault that Everett was acting like a total douchebag! Yeah yeah, crushes are fun and all, and half the time they could check out guys together, but it had been two WEEKS and he hasn't texted or called her ONCE! This wasn't the same as the usual fights and petty altercations they got into. Those would blow over after they'd both had anywhere from an hour to a weekend to cool off, and it's like it never happened. A predictable, repetitive cycle. 

And apparently- tall, dark, and brooding, with that goddamn eyebrow piercing was a big enough wrench. 

It was a struggle to articulate why it hurt. They both had their types. Quiet, tall, good shape, long hair, not pasty, nice brows, piercings. Now that she had laid it all out, it hit. Ayla was not the rule, she was the outlier. Sure, she had good muscle definition, and her hair was… somewhat long, but not all of it. She was short and loud and pale and her ear piercings had healed over from not wearing them enough. 

God, she wished she could hate Pran for just existing. Ayla was no stranger to petty grudges- she knew her sister took her favorite pair of pants when they were twelve, that her history teacher lost one of her essays and had her rewrite it, and that Bae owed her three mechanical pencils he borrowed and then lost. But it was hard to hate Pran when she saw how viscerally he loathed the attention. It was a little funny at first- Eve following him around like a lost puppy, chatting Pran’s ear off while he silently stewed, and reading the spams of text messages complaining about how someone dares to be attractive in his vicinity.

She slowly stopped getting those texts. 

Conversations that lasted all night slowly drifted into just during the boring classes, and then just during the passing period before classes started, and then just sporadically, asking about homework and due dates and other academics that he didn't want Nate to lecture him on. He was still on his phone just as much though. It wasn't hard to put together who he was texting, although Ayla had her doubts that Pran was responding. 

That was why it hurt.

That constant, nagging feeling. Ayla was the best. She had two close friends- only one of whom she wasn't related to. She would legitimately rather die than admit any vulnerability, but so would Everett. It's what made it… nice. Being able to spend hours lounging in each other's dorms just talking. A lot of shallow stuff, sure, but personal gripes. He was the only one who knew she couldn't ride a bike, or that she had never learned long division and has just been brute forcing it since, or that she was deeply and inescapably terrified that she was a one-trick pony, and that as soon as she aged out of competing, she would have nothing. 

That was also the one time he’d ever seen her cry.

And for that little moment in time- those three hours that they’d never speak of, tucked up under his arm, the top of her head slotting in perfectly against his neck, right under his jaw- Ayla knew she wanted Everett in her life; the way, shape, or form didn't matter; and she’d never admit that she needed him, but thats what was nice. That unspoken, unshakeable bond.

Unshakable be damned. She’d been thrown out the second he had some new fixation.

She couldn't even be mad! She knew it would happen eventually (she had been told it would happen if she didn't make an official move, she just thought she knew best and didn't believe that it could actually happen.) 

This is what she got for being vulnerable for once in her goddamn life! She got dropped in favor of the next new fun novelty! You know how awful it feels to be making out with the guy that you’re considering taking a shot at an actual relationship with and he says someone ELSE'S NAME?! That was the ego blow of the century, and Ayla had fallen during a broadcasted program and became a meme on twitter for three days! 

The worst part was that she could handle not being romantically involved. If he had been a reasonable damn person and said ‘hey, i don't want to do this anymore’ it would have sucked, but she would've gotten over it. What she wouldn't get over is that sting of being replaceable. She had never felt that… interchangeable before. Her parents loved her even though they had twin daughters. Aileen loved her even though she was biologically almost the same person. She had thought she wasn't replaceable like that to everett. She’d spent years hearing ‘that's my girl’ after scoring particularly well, and if he wasn't with Nate, he was likely with her. Until now.

Ayla was replaceable. And it sucked. If she was less spiteful (and had stronger will when it came to Everett), she’d break down into tears the second the door to her dorm room closed. She would have a good cry, complain to her sister, and then block his sorry ass. 

Unfortunately, that text tone that only he had was like a hit of dopamine straight to the brain. 

And, like a fool, she was fixing her eyeliner and reapplying that token red lipstick. It would be the first time they’d hung out in months, meeting at that little cafe on the corner that they’d been going to since they were old enough to ditch without being pegged as students immediately (they’d tried when they were eleven. The baby face had not helped their case at all.) 

That sting got worse when she learned that they were only going out because his infatuation had gotten fully shut down, and he wanted to complain to someone who wouldn't try to lecture him (Nate) or comfort him (his mother). So, Ayla was once again the default choice. She could sit and listen perfectly well, chiming in occasional mean comments, everetts distress slowly moulding into spite and anger. 

That was more normal.

It was easier to let her mind wander just a bit. They still had the whole summer, but there had been a rumor going around about a school-mandated group thing. If it had been this time the year prior, she would've sneered at the idea. But right now, it didn't seem so… awful. Maybe, just maybe, she could expand her horizons a bit. Graduation was an increasingly looming threat, and having already gone through the scouting process, she had everything made up. But that plan would involve her leaving Cali. And her family. And her friends. 

It wouldn't be hard to make at least some shallow connections. Her only real requirement is that they don't challenge her in any way, shape, or form. She knew it was conceited, but it kept that facade of untouchability intact (not to mention her own ego.) But Ayla was going to do some networking or whatever soon to be adults were supposed to do. There were two new transfers coming in, and ideally one of them would be competent.

Junior year wasn't the ideal time for a fresh start, so it wouldn't be a total redo. But there were a few… tweaks she could make. 

That evening, Ayla was back in her dorm- her sister was out with her girlfriend, letting her listen to whatever music she wanted, and not get any input from the peanut gallery, who had witnessed her two week long crash out over some guy with stupid glasses. With her hair scissors serving as a microphone, she trimmed her fiery tresses back to their correct shoulder length, careful not to botch it (she didn't need a repeat of third grade picture day.) She let out a swear as that familiar text tone interrupted her song. Checking the notification, that gave her a second order of business. He’d had the same contact since they'd gotten phones. Another quick change that was… surprisingly painless. A simple ‘Evvygreen’ to ‘Everett’. It was like clockwork. An ‘r u busy?’ becoming putting him on speakerphone as she finished cleaning the bathroom.

It had become almost normal again, but for once in their little roller coaster, Ayla wasn't initiating. She had been busy the whole summer. With her family, skating, and college stuff. To put it simply, there was no room left for extra time devoted to the stupid boy who was just jerking her around. They could still be friends, she supposed, she was awfully fond of that stupid boy, especially when he wasn't being a problem. If she lingered too long on it, her heart still hurt. 

Luckily, feeling deeper emotions was outside of her budget for this year. She’d earned the reputation of a vain, man eating, self absorbed, absolutely awful woman for a reason. And now wasn’t the time to be putting up with nonsense. Short words and easy redirections back to other topics- shallow topics. School and family and whatnot. Anything more meaningful gets nipped in the bud. Emotional probation, if you preferred. Ayla may have been absolutely stupid for Everett, but she was not a stupid woman. She knew that any time with him had come and gone. She wasn't willing to cut him out of her circle, but she was willing to cut him off, no matter how much he pouted about wanting to hang out because Nate would be out of the dorm for a while.

She would still be his friend. Of course she would- no need to go scorched earth because he was acting immature, and she wasn't lying about wanting him in her life, but she would do everything in her power to not feel that stab of pain in her heart; writing it off as a long-gone crush, a lapse in judgement. She wasn't writing off romance as a whole, just with a certain dorky hipster wannabe. 

[octolingkiera]

this is a part of @sariphantom's Rise August prompts

check out the fic on ao3 to get the full experience!!

Prompt: Day 5: Mayhem

Summary:

April O’Neil is usually a cool, unflappable person. She confronts the weird and dangerous head on with a smile on her face and a laugh in her voice. She meets any challenge she’s given with determination and enough guts to power a small city. She’s confident and smart and resourceful.

She’s the girl with the plan, after all.

Right now though? She’s panicking.

Mayhem, her beloved friend slash pet slash companion, has gone missing.

Words: 3,627

🐢❤️💜💙🧡🐢

April O’Neil is usually a cool, unflappable person. She confronts the weird and dangerous head on with a smile on her face and a laugh in her voice. She meets any challenge she’s given with determination and enough guts to power a small city. She’s confident and smart and resourceful.

She’s the girl with the plan, after all.

Right now though? She’s panicking.

Mayhem, her beloved friend slash pet slash companion, has gone missing. Normally, it’s not unusual for him to wander off for a day or two, only to come back totally fine, acting as if nothing happened. He’s a big cat-dog-thingy, an independent Yōkai that April feels privileged to have living by her side, and she trusts him to know how to handle himself in most situations.

But he’s been gone so much longer than usual this time, and she’s really worried something might’ve happened him.

It’s been about two weeks since the whole Shredder incident, and April really wishes life would chill out for just, like, a minute please. They’ve all barely recovered from that whole thing and now there’s this to deal with? Why can’t the universe just be cool for once?

She’s at her wit’s end here, and unfortunately, she’s about to make it someone else’s problem. Four someone elses, actually. As much as she would love to spend all her time looking, she’s still in school and her parents are getting on her case about how much she’s missed recently. She can’t afford to skip any more classes, and even with Sunita’s help with homework and class notes, she’s in danger of falling behind, which is an absolute no-go.

So, April needs to bring in the big guns.

On Sunday afternoon, after spending the last two days searching high and low for her beloved little buddy, she makes her way to the lair, for their weekly end-of-weekend dinner. April has a harder time visiting the boys during the week, due to school and, in more recent years, all of the part-time jobs she’s had and subsequently lost, so several years ago, Mikey came up with a solution to make sure they always got to spend at least a few hours together every week: Sunday night dinners.

These dinners were the perfect solution, as it gave April some last-minute little brother time before she had to go spend her weekdays in classes with her fellow humans, and it was a nice, consistent, scheduled event that all of them could look forward to every week, one that allowed some flexibility for time and location. Sometimes their dinners are homecooked, with specific dishes tailored to their family’s vast tastes dietary needs, but other times they order enough takeout to feed a small army. And if an evening meal absolutely can’t be done, they make up for it with breakfast or lunch.

No one really cares what or when they eat, so long as they’re together.

Usually, these dinners are fun, light, and full of banter and good cheer, but April knows her news will drag down the mood. She hates to do this to them, but she’s getting desperate. With every day that passes, the more she feels like Mayhem has gotten into some trouble he can’t find his way out of.

April does her best to keep her spirits up throughout dinner, but from the looks that Leo and Mikey are giving her over their pizza, she must not be as good at pretending as she thought she was. She waits until everyone’s finished eating and the empty boxes are stacked beside the trash to turn to her boys, fold her hands on the table, and tell them, “Hey guys… I need some help.”

Leo and Mikey nod, having clearly expected this, and Raph looks at her, eyes wide and confused. Donnie arches a brow at her, but doesn’t look up from his phone. “What’cha need, Apes?” Mikey asks, tapping his palms on the table to a beat only he could hear.

She sighs and slumps over. “Mayhem’s missing,” she says, getting straight to the point. The boys all straighten up, giving her their full attention. Before they can say anything, she says, all in one breath, “He wanders off all the time, and usually I’m okay with it, because he always comes back, and y’know, he can teleport, but it’s been almost two weeks, and I can’t find him, and he’s usually back by now so I’m worried that something’s happened to him.” She bites her lip and rounds her eyes, sending the turtles a pleading look. “So I need your help.”

Raph and Mikey are already nodding, having started before she finished speaking, and she can practically see the gears of Leo’s clever mind turning behind his narrowed eyes as he absorbs her words. Donnie is already typing into his gauntlet, brow furrowed as he thinks. “Two weeks…” Leo mumbles, gaze distant. “So since we beat the Shredder?”

April blinks and everyone turns to look at Leo, realization blooming across their faces. “Oh man, I didn’t even consider…” April frowns. “Do you think that has anything to do with him being missing?”

“I dunno,” Leo says with a shrug, leaning back in a nonchalant pose that doesn’t fool her for a second. “Maybe, maybe not. He is a Yōkai after all, and you know him best.”

Donnie flaps a hand to grab their attention, eyes trained on his gauntlet. “Everyone shut up. It’s my turn now.” He purses his lips as he scans whatever he’s looking at. “Okay, so I looked over the security cameras in the area around April’s apartment, and from the looks of things, Mayhem left the building at approximately 9:47 in the morning the Tuesday after the Shredder incident, ducked into the nearest alley, and promptly teleported away. My scans aren’t picking up any sign of him returning to this point since he left.”

“Do you think he might’ve gone back to the Hidden City?” Mikey suggests, looking between all of them as if looking for support.

“Maybe,” April allows, crossing her arms. “I haven’t looked there. I didn’t think it was a good idea for me to there alone.”

“We would’ve gone with you,” Raph says, eyes big. “All you have to do is ask.”

“Thanks big guy,” April says, smiling up at him. “That’s sorta why I’m bringing this up. I can’t keep looking for him because of school, so I was wondering if you guys would look around for me.”

“Absolutely!” Mikey chirps.

“Say no more,” Leo says, waving a hand.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Donnie asks, gesturing at this wrist tech.

“The Mad Dogz are on the case,” Raph tells her reaching across the table. April give him her hands and he cradles them between his own. “We’ll help you find him, don’t worry.”

April gives them all a grateful smile. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate this. I’m really worried about him.”

“Don’t worry, April, I’m sure he’s fine!” Mikey says with a big smile, sliding around the table to wrap her in a tight hug. “I’m sure it won’t take us long to find him!”

Famous last words. Mikey shouldn’t have said them. Really, he regrets that they ever even crossed his mind, and a tiny, petty part of him is mad that his brothers didn’t stop him from saying them. Is that unrealistic? Yes, absolutely, but Mikey is willing to play the blame hot potato game.

They’re split into two teams for now, and by luck of the draw, Mikey’s paired with Leo to check around the Hidden City for any clues while Raph and Donnie are searching around New York in any places April might’ve missed. They’ve been looking for hours, only to find a whole lot of nothing.

At least Mikey’s getting the chance to explore the Hidden City. Not a total loss. Leo seems to be enjoying that part of it too, even if he seems to know his way around a bit better than Mikey. He can’t help but wonder why that is, but it’s not important; he can ask later.

Too bad all this searching is mind-numbingly boring.

They’re taking a break in an alley when Leo groans and slumps against the wall. “This sucks. We don’t even know where the little guy is, and we don’t know our way around. How are we supposed to find anything?”

“Everything here is so confusing,” Mikey whines, crouched against the opposite wall.

The Hidden City is nothing like New York. None of the buildings have any sort of uniformity in either shape or size, the streets are meandering and wide, and there’s Yōkai milling about in every way possible. On one hand, that makes it way harder to stealth here than topside, but on the other hand, no one looks at them twice for their appearances, too busy to care and too used to weirder shit.

It’s undeniably cool, but it also means their normal methods of getting places quickly by running across rooftops isn’t an option.

“You think Donnie and Raph are having any better luck?” Leo asks, scanning the crowds milling about. They’re at some kind of outdoor market, and if Mikey wasn’t on a mission, he’d be clamoring to check it out.

“I dunno,” Mikey replies, sighing. “I doubt it.”

“How are we supposed to find a guy that can teleport?” Leo grumbles, crossing his arms. “This seemed like it’d be a lot easier when we agreed to help.”

Mikey doesn’t want to agree, but he does. Of course they want to help April, and of course they want to find the little guy, but Leo has a point; Mayhem can teleport. Who’s to say none of them are just barely missing him? Mikey’s not sure of the range of Mayhem’s powers, but Leo and Raph told him and Donnie about their little adventure saving April’s school from Hypno and how Mayhem teleported them there straight from the lair, so it has to be pretty far.

If there is a limit. If there’s not, then they may be running around like idiots for no reason.

“C’mon,” Mikey says, rocking to his feet with a yawn and a stretch. “We might as well keep going. Even if we don’t find Mayhem, we might see something interesting anyway.”

“True.” Leo pushes off the wall and gives himself a shake, bouncing on his feet for a second. He inhales deep and huffs it out quick, looking much more energized and lively. He flashes Mikey a megawatt smile and steps over to hook an arm around his shoulder. “Let’s get moving then!”

God Leo is so cool. Too bad Mikey can never tell him that.

Raph is starting to think that maybe they’ve gotten ahead of themselves this time.

“See anything yet, Donnie?” Raph calls up to his younger brother. Donnie is flying a good thirty some feet overhead, using his hovershell to get an aerial view of the rooftops and alleyways while Raph checks any nooks and crannies from below.

The system is working as well as it can, considering they’ve found nothing. Not even a clue.

“Nope!” Donnie’s voice is tight with frustration, like he’s talking through gritted teeth. “Not a thing.”

Raph grimaces. He was afraid of that. He sighs and scans the rooftops again, then tilts his head up to look at the sky. It’s never truly dark in New York, what with all the buildings and people and billboards, but even through all the light, he can tell the sun is starting to poke over the horizon, which means it’s time to pack it in for the night.

“We need to start heading home,” Raph says, waving Donnie closer. Once Donnie’s feet are planted on solid ground, Raph tells him, “Can you get in touch with Mikey and Leo? Tell ‘em we’re goin’ back.”

“Sure,” Donnie says, pulling out his phone and typing quickly. Raph feels his own phone buzz in his pocket once, then again a moment later, then a third time. “Leo wants to know if they should keep looking.”

“Have they found anything?”

Donnie sends out another message, buzz, and gets a reply quickly, buzz. “Seems they’ve had as much luck as us.”

Raph frowns and crosses his arms, thinking. They’ve been looking around everywhere they can think of—and everywhere April suggested—just about all night, and they’re no closer to finding Mayhem now than April got after several days of searching. Maybe they need to adjust their strategy? Or they need to ask around instead of just looking themselves. Who knows where the little guy could have gotten off to.

“Raph?” Donnie prods, raising a brow at him. He shakes his phone slightly when Raph looks over at him, a silent question.

With a sigh, Raph shakes his head. “Tell ‘em to meet us at home. We need a new plan.”

When he and Donnie get back to the lair, April is waiting for them, pacing a line back and forth through the projector room, backpack sitting in Splinter’s chair. She looks up when they come in, eyes hopeful, and asks, “Did you find him?”

Raph grimaces. “Uh, not exactly.”

April slumps with a groan. “Dang.” She bites her lip and crosses her arms. “What about the others?”

Before either Raph or Donnie can answer, there’s a bright flash as a blue portal opens up a few feet away and Leo and Mikey step out, looking just as worn out as the rest of them. Mikey spots April first, and bounces over to her with a grin and a hug. “Hi April! Sorry, we didn’t find anything. The Hidden City is really confusing and big.”

Leo muffles a yawn and nods. “Yeah, we looked around as best we could, but we had no idea where he could be, so we just hit up a few places and hoped for the best.”

“Well, thanks anyway, guys. It really means a lot to me,” April says, reaching over to tug Leo into their hug, Mikey still clinging to her front.

“I wish we could be more help,” Leo says, squishing close. “Turns out, being the portal guy does not, in fact, help you find little guys that can teleport.”

April chuckles and rubs his head as if ruffling hair he doesn’t have. “Well, duh. But thanks for trying anyway.”

Donnie clears his throat to pull everyone’s attention, then says, “So for tomorrow’s search, I was thinking we could search different areas. Branch out more topside, and scour the less populated areas of the Hidden City.”

Raph nods, crossing his arms and furrowing his brow as he thinks it over. “Sounds like a plan. A’ight Mad Dogz, let’s get some rest. We have another busy night tomorrow, so we need the energy to stay alert.”

Leo heaves a heavy sigh and nudges April with his head, then pulls away and begins the process of extracting Mikey. Mikey whines but complies easily enough, hanging limply in Leo’s arms like a stuffed animal. “Night April,” the two chorus as Leo takes them out of the room.

Donnie frowns at his gauntlet, clearly distracted, as Raph leans in to exchange hugs and goodbyes with April. She slots right into his arms, as easy as ever, and sighs against his plastron. “Thanks again, big guy,” she murmurs, tapping her fingers against him.

“Any time,” Raph replies, rubbing his chin on the top of her head. As he starts to pull away, there’s a static ringing buzz and a flash of blue-white, and Mayhem materializes in the air above April.

Unfortunately for Raph, he’s also directly under the little Yōkai.

Mayhem screeches as he lands on Raph, flailing and scratching without abandon as Raph yelps and tries to move the little guy way from his face. His claws are still as needle-sharp as they were the last time he attacked Raph, and he sure isn’t lacking in the energy department.

The noise draws Leo and Mikey back into the room, the two of them poking their heads around the doorway with matching expressions of alarm. “What’s going on?” Leo demands.

“We left for like ten seconds!” Mikey adds.

April calls out a cheerful greeting and holds her arms out for Mayhem to leap into. Raph sighs in relief as Mayhem jumps away from him and curls up in April’s arms, making his strange chittering noise. He looks perfectly content with his lot in life, as if he hasn’t caused almost a fortnight’s worth of worry and a handful of shallow, stinging injuries.

“Mayhem’s back,” Donnie says, entirely unnecessarily.

“Aww, there you are! I missed you so much!” April cries, burying her face in his neck. “Please don’t disappear like that again.”

“Ohmigosh!” Mikey gasps and points at something on Mayhem’s side as he steps back into the room. “He’s hurt…”

April pulls away to give Mayhem a thorough examination, brushing her fingers through his yellow fur. “Oh no… What happened?”

Mayhem whines and his large ears lay flat. He twists in April’s arms to give a better view of the wound, then chitters again, high pitched and pained. It looks like some kind of burn or scrape, the fur worn away in a line down his side as if he was hurt while moving past something.

Raph coos in sympathy, despite his own injuries, and Mikey hisses and scrunches up his nose, clenching his hands in and out of fists. “That looks like it hurts,” Raph says, just a step above his baby voice. He’s learned his lesson about using it on the Yōkai.

Leo sweeps forward then, portable first aid kit held in one hand as he uses the other to shoo Raph and Mikey out of the way. “Don’t worry, I’ll do what I can. I dunno about wrapping it, but we can disinfect it at least.” Leo gives Mayhem one of those practiced smiles he thinks is super charming but accidentally comes across as a little condescending. “You’re a smart little dude. You’ll let me know if I’m doing something wrong, won’t you?”

Mayhem nods as April moves to sit in Splinter’s chair. She holds him steady and comfortably as Leo crouches in front of them and pops the kit open, pulling out some bottles and tubes. Raph places a hand on Mikey’s shoulder as he watches his little brother play doctor—vet?—on their friend’s little buddy, and he’s entirely unprepared when Leo turns to hand him a little square packet. “For the scratches,” he says, with another grin. This one looks better on him, Raph thinks. More real.

Raph sends him a smile of his own and opens the packet to find a damp antiseptic wipe. Before he can do more than pull it out of the foil, Mikey snatches it from him and crooks a finger at Raph, beckoning him closer. “Thanks, big man,” Raph says, leaning down to Mikey’s level. As Mikey begins swiping over the various scratches, Raph watches Leo and Donnie out of the corner of his eye as they work together to wind a bandage around Mayhem.

Once all the injuries are taken care of, and the first aid materials are packed away, April sighs and moves to stand. “As much as I would love to stay, I still have school today, so I gotta get going.” She looks down at Mayhem and asks him, “Are you gonna be able to get home on your own?”

Mayhem gives her a big nod, ears bobbing, then vanishes in a flash of blue sparkles.

Once he’s gone, Leo slumps with a big yawn. “Well, that’s a relief. I dunno about you guys, but I’m beat. And since Mayhem’s okay and we don’t have to go looking for him anymore, I’m not setting an alarm.” He throws up a peace sign as he leaves, calling out, “Have a good day, April,” as he goes.

Donnie mutters something to himself as he shakes his head. “He left the first aid kit,” he says, looking down at where it’s sitting on the floor. “Dum-dum.” He steps up to April and gives her a quick hug, then grabs the kit and turns to leave himself. “If anyone needs me—please don’t—I’ll be in my lab. I need to brainstorm some solutions to some problems.”

“Nerd!” April shouts after him.

“Dork!” comes the reply.

“I’m so glad Mayhem’s okay,” Mikey says around a yawn. “I was worried about the little guy.”

“Me too,” April says, scooping up her backpack. “I wonder where he went that got him hurt like that. It wasn’t all that bad, and it obviously didn’t stop him from moving around, but what was he doing all this time?”

Raph shrugs, and picks up Mikey, cradling him in one arm. “I dunno. I wish we could understand him.”

“It’s too bad we don’t really have anyone we can ask about this Yōkai and mystic stuff,” April says. “Maybe then we wouldn’t be running around like idiots.”

Mikey sighs and slumps into Raph. “Leo asks Hueso stuff sometimes, but I dunno if the guy actually likes us or just puts up with us because Leo’s annoyingly persistent. Plus, like, we’re always bugging him at his job. It feels kinda rude sometimes to just barge in and ask him for help.”

“And Pops sure won’t tell us anything,” Raph grumbles, only a little put out.

“Oh well. I’m sure it’ll all work out eventually.” April smiles at them both and pulls them in for another hug. “Now, I really gotta go! See y’all later!” With that, she runs out, waving over her shoulder.

“Mayhem sure is living up to his name, huh?” Mikey asks.

Raph laughs. “He sure is.”

[stefankarlfanblog]

You're in the prime of life, you fool

Original article written for Þjóðviljinn on the 13th of January 1990, credited to LG: https://timarit.is/page/2922723

A new play premiered in Hafnarfjörður tonight. Davíð Þór Jónsson: The play is designed with the idea in mind that it can be taken on tour

You're in the prime of life, you fool, is the name of a new play, which the Youth Theater Company of Hafnarfjörður premieres in Bæjarbíó in Hafnarfjörður tonight. The play is by the actors and their director, Davíð Þór Jónsson, and is the second performance of the Youth theater company, which was founded last year and staged the play This is all nonsense, Snjólfur under the direction of Guðjón Sigvaldason.

According to Davíð Þórs, the experiment with Snjólfur was so successful that it was decided to make such performances an annual event, as they both served the purpose of arousing the youth's interest in acting and training prospective members of the Hafnarfjörður Theater Association, which was recently restored.

Actors and director of the Youth theater company on the Bæjarbíos stage. Image by - Jim Smart.

in "You're in the prime of life, you fool" follows Lilla from conception to matriculation. Lilla isn't too all in all, she is a very ordinary girl, who trudges through this ordinary path from the maternity ward to her matriculation exam. Stories of her friends and classmates, who represent certain beliefs or groups, are interwoven into her story, there are pauses in classrooms, quizzes, a confirmation party and a school trip, as well as a beauty queen and various big names.

Steinunn Knútsdóttir and I, who are both members of Leikfélag Hafnarfjörður, started having a four-week course in October last year, says Davíð Þór. - Then there was a play to stage, which was already ready, but we couldn't find anything we liked. So it turned out that we improvised this piece based on certain ideas I had about a farcical play about society and the adults seen from the children's point of view. What I had in mind was to show this double standard that they live with, they are supposed to act like adults. but are not allowed to do what adults are allowed, they are forbidden to watch pornographic films, but are free to watch Rambo and other violent films where blood flows in violent currents.

The kids then worked from these ideas, improvising scenes and characters. We started it in the second half of the course, then spent two weeks adding what was missing and finalizing the script. The result is this over an hour long show, which I direct like an army commander - we have been rehearsing at full strength since between Christmas and New Year.

The kids themselves have worked on everything related to the show: costumes, sets, posters, props, lighting and make-up. It is designed with the idea in mind that you can tour with it because we will only have a few shows here in Bæjarbíó and we have thought about going to school, if there is any interest in it and even abroad, where people have difficulty for a week to find a way around town to get to the theater. But this is all in the early stages.

There are 20 kids in the Youth theater company, which may not be a large percentage of youth from Hafnarfjörður, but it must be considered a good turnout. They are in 7th, 8th and 9th grade, most of them from Öldutún's School, there are three girls from Víðistada School, but none from Lækjar School, for whatever reason. The school authorities are not to blame, there we have met with both interest and understanding. It's true that the kids don't get grade credits for their work at the theater, but I've gotten them time off if they've had to come here, for example for a TV taping, and I've also been able to get them an exemption from homework this week before the premiere.

The premiere will be at 21 tonight and another show tomorrow night at the same time, but in total the Youth theater company expects to show 4-5 times in Bæjarbíó before it goes on tour.

[livingasaghost]

quick update because i'm avoiding doing work!

started going to a new coffeeshop and they have chairs with REAL CUSHIONS and i feel sooo thirty because damn, mom was right, you DO need a good chair when you're sitting for eight hours straight :/ shocked and upset

a few nights ago i almost had a breakdown about my to do list and i was (am still) panicking about all i need to do but then i stopped and remembered that i used to take fucking ap classes and i was like THIS IS NOTHING!!! YOU HAD TO TAKE APUSH AND PHYSICS IN THE SAME SEMESTER!!!!!!!!! and then i was like oh actually, this is fine

i'm actually so mad that i finished the new backman book because now i'm back at "what do i read" limbo and it's actually awful because i spontaneously started two books that i know i am not in the mood for but like...i started them. so i should keep reading them. i'm 35% thru the second beartown book i can't just quit!!!! i mean i can but what do i read instead, ya know? i just wish i had more time to like PHYSICALLY read but unfortunately i can only audiobook and do some light ebook reading at work so. that sucks what am i supposed to listen to.

but yeah i am soooo fucking slammed rn?? for no reason???? (not no reason, it's may, may is busy always) i just have like four different photoshoots to edit and a wedding and a music video and also haley is visiting on wednesday so i need to clean the apartment but i'm going to the movies on tuesday and that's great! but also i need to cook my hellofresh meals i forgot to cancel and i'm going to dallas next weekend to see halsey (hooray!!!!) but again, the editing, and then the weekend after halsey i'm going home to see my sister (yay!!!!!) but again, the editing, and tHEN the weekend after that i get one free saturday before i shoot anOTHER wedding (helllll yeah!!!!!) but!!! AGAIN!!!!! THE EDITING!!!!!!! and like all that is Great but i aLSO have to do homework for my web designer bc we're finally starting that project (woooooo hooooo) . but again......the....editing........... and like you'd think my life would slow down in june! but the editing! and then my parents are coming to town and i have more shoots planned and time is hurtling at a thousand miles an hour and THEN!!!! I WILL BE IN THE PNW WITH MY BEST FRIEND!!!! TAKING PHOTOS AND LISTENING TO OUR FAVORITE SONGS AND EATING FOOD AND READING BOOKS AND I'LL BE SAVED!!

but first. the editing.

anyway. i'm fine. totally good.

i also am a bit worried that work is going to immediately drop out from under my feet as busy season gets going so i have that to look forward to

and i'm spending money like a crazy person and all i wanna do is buy more books and shoot more film and—

anyway. i'm fine.

called tiernan last night (it's been almost two years since we like hung out and talked and saw each other?!) and we talked for like two hours and i forgot how much i love him and then as per usual we started talking about writing stuff and i had the crushing (insane awful horrible wonderful?) realization that i have never actually written a book with my adult brain? like i edited my last book obviously but i never started fresh with a project after age 25 (which isnt technically adult brain i know thats a hoax but sTILL) and so the more we talked the more i was like ....shit remember when we used to write novels? and it was fun? could we do that again??? and then i kept thinking about it this morning but i remembered *gestures to the rest of this post* ALL THE GODDAMN EDITING I HAVE TO DO and i was like cool maybe that's a november problem.

but like! imagine me writing an adult book! do we think i could do that??? how do i write my friends by fredrik backman but my version. thats what i wanna know.

anyway i do not want to edit and i wish i had a different book to listen to but we carry on. i think jules is gonna make me french toast tonight!!!! and i get to see friends this week!!!! and there's only a month and a half until i'm living my best life with my best friend!!!!!

[noloveforned]

i'm in the midst of a couple hectic weeks between family, work and various medical appointments. they say self-care is important though so i'm still setting aside friday night for my wlur show from 8pm until midnight. tune in or catch up with last week's show on mixcloud.

no love for ned on wlur – april 5th, 2024 from 8-10pm

artist // track // album // label destroyer // the sublimation hour // streethawk: a seduction // misra so cow // now that i am 41 // jesus meets the women // (self-released) pleasant mob // mob // pleasant mob // inscrutable homework // dummy run // easy money cassette // gold mold paperniks // oxygen tank flipper // oxygen tank flipper 7" // market square added dimensions // compartmentalize // time suck / hellbent ep // domestic departure water machine // art fair // art fair 7" // fat cat petite // torches // ii 7" ep // distort reality dr. sure's unusual practice // escalator man // total reality // erste theke tonträger gustaf // starting and staring // package, part two // royal mountain x // i don't wanna go out // x-aspirations // dirt cult sunwatchers // world people // music is victory over time // trouble in mind bill orcutt // out of the corner of the eye // four guitars live // palilalia bob dylan // i threw it all away (march 1st, 1978) // the complete budokan 1978 // legacy orville peck and willie nelson // cowboys are frequently secretly fond of each other // stampede // warner beyoncé // daughter // cowboy carter // parkwood entertainment charles mingus // reincarnation of a love bird (second version, take one) // incarnations // candid austin peralta featuring heidi vogel // algiers (bbc session) // endless planets (deluxe edition) // brainfeeder homeboy sandman // off the rip // rich // dirty looks r.a.p. ferreira and fumitake tamura // 47 rockets taped to my chair // the first fist to make contact when we dap // ruby yacht estee nack and grubby pawz // sexaphone session number six // i wanna fxck carmen hayes // city yard steve monite // things fall apart (vocal) // only you // soundway duckwrth featuring nascent and saba // don't check 4 me // don't check 4 me digital single // don't grow up too soon l'rain // i killed your dog // i killed your dog // mexican summer alison eales // rapunzel // mox nox // fika tia rosa // glass frog // misterio lounge 3000 // inscrutable th blisks // gasper // how so? // altered states tapes stephen steinbrink // if there's love in your heart // disappearing coin // western vinyl bnny // nothing lasts // one million love songs // fire talk rose melberg // sheep // so many things at once compilation cassette // 6612 tapes

[christian-homeschools-alaska]

How to Plan Your Homeschool in Alaska Day?

A well planned day can actually help you be more practical about learning and ensure your kids get to understand the concepts. While field days and outdoors are important to homeschooling, they are not the only model of approach. You must have a dedicated day and planned timings for better homeschool in Alaska outcomes.

We will be talking about how you can plan the entire day and the best ways to homeschool your child. The first thing you must realize is that you need to sit down and teach your child. While there are a lot of things that can help your child learn, these are incomplete without your sit down.

1. Start by working on the schedule that best fits your child and you. For instance, do you need to homeschool your child all five days of the week? Do you want to go with a four day ritual? How many days would best help your child get the concept understanding. A preschooler can do with a three or four day schedule. However, when you go beyond that, you might need to increase the number of days for your Alaska homeschool

2. While you are choosing the total days, you must also fix the total hours you want to homeschool in a day. In some cases, you might be enrolling them into extra curricular activities. That would demand extra hours. as a result, when you are planning homeschool hours, you might want to take note of that as well.

3. The next part of the planning includes choosing a school calendar. What would be your major break during homeschool? Would you like to take a summer break or a spring break? Do you want to go with a fall break? Would you like to follow the school break in your state? This would help you plan the entire year for homeschool. You would know the exact number of days you would be studying.

4. As you have decided the total days and other aspects, it is important to note the subjects that you must finish in the homeschool in Alaska year. You may have four or even five subjects in some cases. You can choose the days on which you would go with subject number one and so on. that’s why it is important to detail out each day of the homeschooling year before you proceed. Make sure you have a planner on the table so that your kids are aware of the subjects you are planning for the day

5. When planning, the planner plays a pivotal role. You might want to get a good planner that an help you schedule everything for the homeschool. When choosing the planner, make sure you stick to something that fits your needs. would you like to plan the entire month or week? This would also help you get the entire act together.

6. You must have an entire map for the day. What do you plan to do in the homeschool during that particular day? Would you like to add art and craft? Are you planning a read-along session? Do you want to go with a math homework? There are several things that you might want to cover for a subject. Outline the day can help you accomplish it while staying on your flexible schedule.

7. When you accomplish small things during Alaska homeschool, make sure to pat yourself on the back.

[jimblejamblewritings]

luck be a (leading) lady | part 2.

Summary: Y/N has always been a background character. That’s just life for some folks isn’t it? But what if she’s determined to not just be another member in the ensemble? What if someone helps her step into the spotlight in her own special way?

Warnings for the Series: a teeny bit of angst but mainly fluff

Pairing: ricky bowen x black!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I am not even sorry for starting a third series. I just finished season three of hsmtms and I’m obsessed. Also spoiler now, EJ and Gina are staying as an endgame couple. I’m gonna try to plant those seeds early if I can.

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

“Hey…”

“Y/N.”

“Yes, right, Y/N,” Ms. Jenn started. “Go get your measurements done.”

“I already did.”

Ms. Jenn turned around with a quickness. She was pleasantly surprised to hear a student taking initiative. You’d been in so many shows inside and outside of camp and school that you were constantly getting measured and already had them on file. It didn’t take any time at all for you to write down your numbers in the costumer’s notebook and move to the rehearsal space to start stretching. Ms. Jenn noted how you had changed into rehearsal clothes. 

She smiled to herself as she walked over to where her bag was laying. It was easy to see the dedication in you. It reminded her a lot of herself— the way that you would rather stretch than post all about the musical to Instagram. Honestly, you might have posted more than the cast list but you only had four Instagram followers: Kiana and her cousins that were a set of triplets.  

The others slowly entered the room after posting and measurements. That was your cue to get up and move to the circle of desks for the table read. You were sandwiched between the new girl, whose name you learned was Gina, and EJ. It made you chuckle to yourself because you guys were in grade order— sophomore, junior, senior. Ms. Jenn took her seat, immediately garnering all of you guys’ attention. 

“You guys may have walked in as strangers but today you’re family. This school might be huge but theatre is a small community. From this point forward until the final curtain falls, we will look out for each other. So name time! Introduce yourself, your character, and a fact or two.” 

You listened as everyone said something. While you knew everyone’s names, the facts were new and interesting. It got to you and you barely raised your hand off the desk. 

“I’m Y/N L/N, Principal Dancer and Ensemble Captain and… I spend every summer at my grandparents’ for a week and Camp Shallow Lake.” 

“Wait, you go to Camp Shallow Lake?” EJ sat up. “So do I. And Nini. We should totally hang out next summer. Let’s go Shallow Lake!” 

Your mouth dropped open slightly. “I-I was in the Music Man with you guys. Maid number four… the only one who didn’t get an open— never mind.” 

“Ha ha,” Ms. Jenn cut in, noticing your expression. “Let’s get started on the read, we don’t have all the hours in the day.” 

You, being part of the ensemble, had no lines as everyone read through. And because you guys weren’t singing the songs today, you really had nothing. The only thing you could do was listen to everyone else and feel your butt go numb as you finished up Act 1 before taking a small break. You watched everyone else go talk to their friends at break while you just wiggled around in your chair a little bit. You desperately wished your friend, Kiana, still went to East High or at least a school in Salt Lake. She would always come to rehearsal to do her homework so that way you had someone to talk to during breaks. 

You couldn’t remember if it was the last year of elementary school or the first year of middle school that she effectively adopted you but you had been grateful for that. Kiana never even cared that once out of your shell, your interests still weren’t very loud. But now you were sitting alone while just eating your snack and waiting for the time to pass. Your phone buzzed and you looked at the text. 

“So she does have emotion.” 

You looked up to see Gina had sat back down. You passively held up your phone. 

“My friend, she just made her lacrosse team. She does that and soccer.” 

“Cool,” Gina said with a shrug. 

You nodded and went back to looking at your script. By the time you worked up the courage to say something else to the girl next to you, it was time to get back to work. You left the first day of rehearsal not having said anything else. Kiana practically yelled at you over FaceTime when you got home and told her about rehearsal. Even if she was miles and miles away, she was determined to have you make another friend that wasn’t her. 

The next few sets of rehearsals didn’t go much better than the first time. You had tried to speak up when Ricky asked Carlos why you guys had to do the bows first. Carlos insisted it was the hardest dance and you wanted to offer up some choreography help but he immediately overlooked you. You didn’t think the bows could be the hardest “dance” and if they were then you doubted Carlos’ ability as a choreographer. Everyone knows the hardest dance is supposed to be “Stick to the Status Quo” as far as group numbers are concerned. However the moment Gina mentioned that doing the hardest dance first was on page 374 of the Big Book of Broadway, Carlos was all over her. 

Were you just that unmemorable as a person? Then you didn’t even get a thumbs up after starting to practice the bows… and you had to do a jump into a split because that’s what was choreographed. But Nini and Ricky’s less than stellar dancing took all the attention. You approached the pair after psyching yourself up. 

“I can help you guys if you don’t know what to do about moves.” 

Nini looked at Ricky once before turning back to you. “Oh, no, we’re good! I’m good. Dancing’s not my forte anyway.”

You looked over at Ricky, pleading for him to say yes. It had taken a lot for you to offer in the first place and the rejection was making you regret every moment of your decision to do so. Instead of saying yes, he walked off and took all his stuff with him. You were never offering help to someone again. And Kiana’s advice was officially the worst advice you ever heard. You didn’t even offer up any more help when it was time for the ensemble to work on dancing with basketballs. You were getting it with almost no problem because this wasn’t your first time dancing with balls for a musical. But no one approached to ask you for help and you couldn’t bring yourself to offer again. Even though you were supposed to be the principal dancer, it felt a lot like Carlos didn’t bother. 

You found yourself in the back line more than the front. Other people that he was closer to ended up getting more prominent parts in dance breaks. You wanted the old choreographer back. Or maybe you just needed to approach Carlos. But he already brushed you off twice before. What if he brushed you off again or worse, put you in the corner for all the dance routines? Your golden moment came thanks to Gina. 

“Well, if Nini can’t do it. I’d be glad to do the cafeteria dance break as a solo. We can make it a moment for Taylor. Or me and the ensemble? Y/N and Elle match my level… Y/N might actually be a bit above, just a bit.” 

“No, I can do it,” Nini insisted. “I would have been here if I hadn’t lost my phone. I couldn’t have seen your text to come early to run it. Just give me—”

“Gabriella practically hard carries the show, maybe you should use this number as a small break for you. Besides, Y/N already knows how to Argentine tango so that’s less to teach.” 

Nini turned to find you. “Argentine tango?” 

“My uncle dated a ballroom instructor for a few years,” you said, nonchalantly. “I don’t mind doing another dance number.” 

Ms. Jenn clapped her hands, excited at the thought. You smiled at the floor and did a little wiggle before moving with Elle to stand behind Gina. This was the second time Gina had talked to you. According to Kiana when you called her after rehearsal, that was a prime candidate for new friendship. You wondered if she was into bouquet making. If she liked that or maybe geocaching or painting rocks then you guys could totally be friends. Besides, she was getting on everyone else’s nerves but yours so maybe she’d become your friend based on that circumstance alone. You felt bad for her. Sure she was a bit ambitious and clearly gunning for Nini’s part since she was the understudy for Gabriella but at the same time it wasn’t her fault that she was talented. 

Your rehearsals were relatively drama free despite everyone else’s being full of it. Including the fact that apparently a lot of Gina’s stuff had been stolen? It was too much to be misplaced but also no one could imagine anyone in the cast taking people’s things. You enjoyed your “lunch-break” when it was time to run scenes. Like the rest of the ensemble, you just sat back and watched the principal cast work. You weren’t sure what made Ms. Jenn think that EJ and Ricky throwing a basketball between each other while running lines was a good idea. Teamwork was clearly not what either boy was after and anyone could see it. 

Their ball passing was starting to look more like aiming to you. If either one was too slow in catching, someone was getting hit in the face. It only got worse when Ms. Jenn suggested improvising to better understand their characters because she felt like both of them were giving stiff performances. 

“You deserve everything that’s coming to you.” EJ threw the ball rather hard, barely missing Ricky’s face. 

“Back at you, dude.”

“Back at you time two.”

“Four!”

“Eight!”

“Infinity plus one.” 

Ricky threw the ball but EJ was a hair too slow. You all gasped as he staggered back when the ball hit him. Your eyes went wide. 

“Oh my God, EJ you’re bleeding.” 

Ms. Jenn immediately raced over. “Y/N will you help EJ and maybe get some ice. EJ, honey, go clean up in the bathroom. Everyone else, let's take a quick five or ten.”

You made sure EJ got to the restroom safely before running to get a bag of ice. You blinked twice when you entered the boys’ bathroom to give him the ice. Of course he got blood on his shirt so he would take it off but shirtless EJ was still a bit of a shocker. 

“You’ll make it worse by pressing on it like that,” you said as you fully entered the bathroom. 

Timidly, you held the bag of ice to his mouth while applying pressure the correct way. Your eyes darted this way and that to look everywhere but his shirtless figure. You nearly jumped out your skin when his hand covered yours. 

“I got the pressure thing now, I can take it from here.” 

You nodded and let go of the bag. Ricky came running in. 

“How’s the lip? I’m really sorry about that, I didn’t mean to do that at a—”

“Save it!” EJ yelled, startling both you and Ricky. “Just do me a favor and stay away from me and Nini, okay?” 

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t act like my best friend or her boyfriend. Just stop. Why can’t you just be real?”

“Look, I’m trying to make the best out of a bad situation.”

“Don’t! Don’t try, it’s embarrassing.”

“Dude, I’m just trying to apologize.”

“You want to do that? Let’s start with that thirsty voicemail you left on Nini’s phone. She doesn’t need to hear from you anymore.”

“Wait, what? How do you know about the voicemail?” 

“Just go home.” EJ shoulder-checked the other boy before walking off. 

Ricky looked at you since you were the only other person there. 

“Don’t listen to him, Ricky. He’s always like that at camp so it doesn’t do any good to bother. Just… Maybe it’s time to let Nini go?” 

“What?” He asked in disbelief. 

You held your hands up in surrender and scurried out of the bathroom. Naturally, while you were mortified, Kiana was proud of you. You thought she would somehow blow the speaker on your phone as she screamed at your first confrontation. 

“It was only a matter of time before theatre brought you out! Yes, girl!” 

“Kiana, no, he probably hates me for even sugg—”

“Woah, woah, calm down. No one hates you. Remember Deb’s words.”

“I’m in my head,” you repeated with her what your therapist said. “I know. But I still feel it.” 

Kiana just sighed and moved on when you asked her too. She was still proud of the progress that you made with just the little bathroom incident. True to Kiana’s word, Ricky didn’t even bring up what you said. He was way more focused on EJ’s words. And everyone was more focused on the fact that EJ was actually the one who stole Nini’s phone. It was a good thing that he was Chad and not Troy because the tension was so palpable between the couple that it was suffocating. You noticed more than once that it was just EJ and Nini who were out of it during rehearsal. You took in a deep breath and jumped up to go sit next to Ricky during break. 

“Are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I just… you seem down?” 

“I’m not. I’m fine.” 

Ricky jumped up immediately when Ms. Jenn said it was time to block out Troy and Gabriella’s duet. You pouted a little as everyone got back to work. Ricky definitely seemed anything but fine. It was obvious when he kept making mistakes and didn’t have any of his stuff with him to rehearse. Ms. Jenn and everyone else just seemed frustrated. 

“Ricky! You cannot behave like this in theatre. You need to be prepared, you made a commitment to be here and unless there’s a real problem then you nee—”

“Ms. Jenn!” You raised a shaky hand in the air when you noticed it looked like Ricky was on the verge of tears. “Can we just take a break, maybe? It’s a lot right now.” 

Ricky looked up from where he was staring at the floor. He just stared at the side of your face for a minute before closing his eyes in relief. You gave him a little nod before leaving the room after Ms. Jenn decided to dismiss everyone instead of just taking a break. You were at your car door when a hand tapped your back. You turned to see Ricky. 

“Th-thank you. I’m just going through something right now and I jus—”

“Ricky. You don’t have to tell me, you just looked like you needed someone to say something.” 

“My parents are getting a divorce,” he blurted out. 

You felt like you glitched out for a moment, not sure of what to say. Ricky watched your hands gesture towards your car. 

“I-wow, I-I’m sorry. Um, do-do you want to get some ice cream and talk about it? Or not! You don’t have—”

“Actually, that sounds great right now. If you don’t mind.” 

“No, it’s fine.” 

Ricky naturally slipped into the passenger’s seat of your car. He really needed to be anywhere but school or his own house. You two didn’t talk at all on the way to the ice cream shop. Honestly, Ricky was okay with that. He didn’t have many words at the moment anyway. You two didn’t talk while picking out ice cream flavors and you guys didn’t talk as you sat back in your car to eat the ice cream. It wasn’t until halfway through the ice cream that you spoke. 

“It probably hurts because it’s so fresh but later it won’t be so bad,” you tried to offer. 

“Sure it won’t.”

“Everything eventually gets better even if it seems like it won’t… my therapist says that.” 

The boy actually gave out a small laugh. “Can you recommend them to me? You need a therapist?” 

“Um, social anxiety stuff.” 

“Oh. Yeah, you are kind of quiet. I mean it’s crazy you went to camp with EJ and Nini and they never noticed… What?” 

“I’ve been going to school with you and the others since kindergarten.”

Both of Ricky’s eyebrows raised. “What? Like actually? Me, Kourt, Big Red, Nini?”

“Yeah, all of you.”

“Wow, you really do need a therapist— That didn’t come out right, sorry. I didn’t— I just mean that you are really shy then. You know what? That’s my fault actually, you think you would notice the same girl in your class since we were five,” Ricky tried his best to recover accidentally insulting you. He just shoved another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, believing that he made the situation worse. 

“It’s fine, I got what you meant… Do you need me to drop you home? Do you even want to go home?” 

“Honestly?” Ricky looked out the window. “Not right now.” 

“Then do you want to come to my house? My older sister is visiting and she’s a chef. We’re having Michelin Star steak tacos.” 

“That sounds fantastic. Thanks, Y/N, really.” 

You just shook your head to say it wasn’t a big deal and sped out the ice cream parking lot.

(part 3)

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl​ @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107

[lovelykhaleesiii]

shdhdbsjebh- I loved the modern!fuck boy! Aegon a.u sm!! It just scratches my brain fr 🤭 and bc I can and nonnie said I can, I think I WILL do a blurb so I hope I do it justice!

Aegon Targaryen the second. How do you even begin to explain Aegon Targaryen the second?

Man child? Yes.

Trust fund baby? Yes.

Totally obnoxious? Yes.

And the total bane of your entire existence? Yes.

You've known him since middle school when he dropped into your school when his insanely rich C.E.O father - and his very young, almost too young - wife moved to the big city of New York. You normally weren't the one to judge as you also came from an insanely wealthy family but even then, there was something off about him. The way he would smirk at you if you so much as stuttered a single word durning an important presentation. Or got just one mark down from his on a test, quiz, or even a simple homework assignment. Not that he even would try, he much rather cut school to smoke week or ditch homework and sneak out to clubs where he could easily get in when he was underaged. And you still feel the same about him years later.

"I can't believe your dad actually let you open a speak easy," you say. You and him had unfortunately been paired up for an almost months long project worth eighty percent of your grade and he had somehow managed to drag you from your house to his club he had opened to apparently show his father he could be responsible.

"What?" He says, faking shock. "I do know responsibility. I am going to be the heir someday."

"Oh? Is that so?"

"You know it."

You sit in silence as you begin to watch men and women go on the stage and do basically strip teases. You roll your eyes.

"Oh, come on," Aegon says, nudging you, "you can't tell me you are this uptight that going up there and dancing isn't fun!"

"It looks fun," you admit, "but this project is worth a lot and I don't particularly like you-"

He cuts you off. "I don't particularly like you either, little miss perfect. But I like fun!"

You sigh. " you know...I have moves."

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

Aegon takes your drink and before you can argue, he says, "show me then." But you can tell he is only joking.

"You don't actually think i'd go up there, do you?"

He shakes his head. "Not a chance."

Of course.

"Fine. Guard my drink."

As you dance, you miss Aegon getting up and his eyes following you as you do a dance.

"Who's that girl?" A person asks, just as hypnotized as Aegon was.

He stares you in shock and awe. "I have no idea."

A few hours later, you were now semi-carrying a very drunk Aegon back to your place. Why were you carrying your long time drunk enemy back to your place instead of his own? Well, as fate would have it, your New York pent house was just six minutes walking distance from Aegon's club. Much easier and quicker to get to. You sit him on the bed in your guest room you had set up.

The next morning, as you cook breakfast, you decide to text Aegon and tell him to get the hell out of your house.

You: morning, loser! Now, get out of my house! :)

Aegon: my head hurts.

You: didn't ask plus I don't care. Now. Get out of my house!

Aegon: are you cooking bacon?

You: For me.

Aegon: what? I don't get anything? You wound me.

You: awe, beat my still bleeding heart. The only thing you're going to get is a splash of bleach if you don't get your smelly ass out of my bed and leave!

Aegon: jesus, alright, alright. I'm going. Where is your shower?

You: down the hall to the right. You can't miss it.

Aegon couldn't help it. After his shower, he came out to the kitchen, grabbing a plate. Sure enough, you had enough for two. He smirked as an idea formed in his head. You were currently "burning" the guest room sheets after he had slept in them so you would be gone for at least four minutes....

Just as you placed the truly disgusting sheets into the washer, your phone dings. When you take it out, it's a notification from twitter. @therealaegont has tagged you in (1) post. You roll your eyes as you press on the notification.

It takes you to a post with a picture. A picture of the food he was eating. The food you had cooked. He had tagged your username and put the caption as love it when my wife makes me breakfast :)

You make a disgusted face before going to reply.

Not your wife, fuck face :)

A couple moments after you press send, you hear faint laughing from the other room.

This was going to be a long project.

OMG NONNIE I LOVE THIS !!!! gahhhhd this was so good, is it wrong that I want more ?! that slow burn romance is real & making me feral 😫🥵🥵🥵

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

how to fake date your best friend | jake sim

✰ summary: the rules were simple -

pretend to be the boyfriend of you, his best friend who wants the attention of their crush, for a week and a week only

no kissing (bc gross cooties amirite) allowed, unless needed in times of desperate measure 

and no matter what, absolutely, most definitely, do not fall in love. 

simple, right?

well apparently not. because news flash––jake's already broken one of the rules. 

and to give you a hint, it's neither rule 1 or 2.

✰ pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. members of enha!] 

✰ genre: fluff, comedy | fakingdating!au, highschool!au, bestfriend!au, friends to lovers

✰ warnings: cursing, high-schoolers doing dumb highschool things, underage drinking (pls don’t actually do any of this irl), jake being a certified simp, it’s LONG (i’m so sorry), cheesy kithes bc im a sucker for kithes ( ˘ ³˘)♥

✰ wc: a whopping 9.5k

✰ a/n: it’s finally finished :’)))))) it ended up being much longer than i wanted but i had so much fun writing the characters that i got carried away lolol anywaysss i hope you guys enjoy it,,,i got a little unmotivated during the process bc i didn’t know if it was good or not but here it is heh (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ 

Tuesday, December 8th

Jake Sim lives a simple life. 

He likes to think he leads the normal, stereotypical life of a teenage boy. Has decent grades, plays soccer after school, skateboards around the neighborhood, has a best friend who he’s desperately in love with, and has a stable group of friends. 

Okay, maybe not so simple, because this boy would physically launch himself to the moon and drill at its surface to collect moon dust for you if you asked him to––despite his deadly fear of combusting in outer space. 

But that fear doesn’t even compare to his worst one yet: not having you in his life. 

And so, he decided to just repress any and all feelings he’s had for you ever since he discovered them in middle school, when he realized he hated seeing you go to the eighth grade dance with a date––that wasn’t him. 

He decided that he wasn’t going to risk losing a life-long friendship over some dumb, teenage boy feelings. 

They were probably powered by his testosterone anyways. Yeah, that’s totally it.

He’s totally not in love with you. 

So yes, he lives a pretty normal life. Every day is the same as the last, and tomorrow will be the same as today. But he likes it like that––he doesn’t want anything to change. 

Especially not now, when he finds himself content with every aspect of his life (okay maybe except for his history grade, god, does he hate history). 

So, it catches him off guard when you arrive at the group’s usual lunch table, located outside in your school’s courtyard, looking as excited as ever. 

Jake’s the only one at the table so far. The remaining usually showed up late––Heeseung spends his first half of lunch tutoring freshmen for community service hours (but the poor boy has no idea what he’s doing), Sunghoon is probably stuck in line in the cafeteria again (he always forgets to pack his own lunch), and Jay is...well actually, no one ever knows where Jay comes from. He’s a special one. 

It catches Jake even more off guard when you skip over any greeting a normal person would give, and start speaking at one hundred words per second. 

And that catches us up to the present.

“Y-You want me to what?” Jake’s stuttering as you stare at him with your hopeful eyes from across the lunch table. 

Despite the expression planted on your face, which screams your excitement for your “brilliant, amazing, genius, Einstein-could-never” idea (or whatever other words you used to describe it––Jake can’t exactly recall the specific terms you used, they all came out of your mouth too fast), you don’t respond to his question of bafflement. You continue to stare at him, awaiting his response. Jake could compare the look on your face right now to a puppy looking up at its owner, eagerly waiting for a treat. You know, tongue out and all. 

He swallows the lump that’s lodged in this throat (is that the sandwich he’s having, or his nerves?) and continues to give you his look of confusion laced with a nervous smile because surely, you’re joking. 

You grab what’s left of your sandwich from his hands and take your own bite. Somewhere in between you arriving at the table and now, Jake’s managed to steal the sandwich you brought today. You did make the best chicken sandwiches, in his defense. 

“Well? It’s only for the week! And I promise you, after one week, if nothing happens––if he doesn’t make a move or anything––I’ll move on from him like you’ve been telling me to.” Your words are muffled from you savoring your sandwich, or what’s left of it anyways. (Mental note to self: don’t share your lunch with Jake ever again.) 

When Jake still doesn’t respond (you’ve truly gotten this poor boy paralyzed), you find it as a sign to continue. 

“I think it’s the perfect plan. Plus, if it doesn’t work out, it’ll be like the universe is telling me to finally move on, right?” 

Wrong. 

Jake has been encouraging you to move on from your crush because well, if we’re being honest here, he selfishly wants you to himself. Even if it wasn’t romantically.

Preferably, he would kill to get to be the one who holds your hand in the hall, call you cheesy pet names, post disgustingly cute couple pics for the ‘gram––but for the sake of potentially ruining his relationship with you, he’ll just have to settle with the role of being your best friend. 

(And he’s totally fine with that! Totally. Yup.) 

But he didn’t think that you moving on would only be a mere possible outcome (that may not even happen!) from whatever this stunt is you wanna pull. 

Said stunt: Pretend to date one another and hope it catches the eye of a certain someone you have your eye on: Park Sunghoon. 

Ah yes, Park Sunghoon. The previously mentioned one who’s probably still in line waiting to get his lunch as we speak. 

Park Sunghoon, the tall, kind, intelligent, charming young boy that everyone knows. And if anyone didn’t know him, they most definitely knew of him. He wasn’t hard to miss in the halls; everything about him just radiates perfection. 

If you plucked a random high-schooler from the halls of this school and interviewed them on the Park Sunghoon, they’d say you’d be lucky enough if the quiet boy so much as sparked a conversation with you, even if it was about what last night’s chemistry homework was. 

Well if that were true, then you and the rest of the boys would be considered lottery winners. 

How that happened, how the four of you dysfunctional beings earned his friendship, the world may never know. However, Jake is fully convinced that this was the universe’s way of playing a cruel joke on him. 

For as long as Jake could remember, it’s always been just the two of you. You and Jake. Jake and you. (With the exception of Heeseung and Jay, of course, who came along in middle school) 

In fact, your earliest memory of Jake was when he peed his pants in the kindergarten during nap time. You would know, you had the privilege of sharing a sleeping mat with him that one fateful day and in result...let’s just say the smell didn’t wear off from your clothes until a week later. Five-year-old you didn’t forgive five-year-old Jake for the longest time. 

And since then, you’ve been attached by the hip. And Jake liked it like that. Jake didn’t need anyone else in his life (with the exception of Leila) if he had you. He had found his home within you, and he didn’t plan on sharing his space anytime soon. 

Nevertheless, the universe had a completely different idea for the two of you. 

Sunghoon came into the picture last year, towards the end of the school year. Despite being the new kid, he found his way into your cherished friend group and naturally, the five of you grew as close as friends could be. 

That was the problem. Jake wanted to hate Sunghoon, to despise him for being the one that you had heart eyes for, but he couldn’t. 

Not only was Sunghoon one of Jake’s closest friends, but he didn’t want to ruin the dynamic of the friend group. After you, the three chaotic boys were the next most important people in Jake’s life. 

And so, we have the typical love triangle plot that every coming-of-age movie follows. Of course, this is all unbeknownst to you––you may be intelligent and a people-person, but oh boy can you not see the heart eyes your very own best friend has for you. 

“It’ll be easier than you think, really! Look, we can even set boundaries or rules or whatever,” you propose, as if you’re trying to get him to sign a contract. 

Rules to a fake relationship? We’re not living in a Netflix romcom, are we? 

“Okay rule number 1: it’ll only be for a week and a week only, rule number 2: we don’t have to do anything too couple-ly like...” you pause to wonder for a second. 

“Like PDA or anything! You know, unless we really need to convince him,” you casually add. When he responds with radio silence and stares at you with absolute concern painted all over his face, you cough. “Jake, I’m joking.” 

Right. Of course. Obviously. 

“And of course, just try not to fall in love with me, it’ll be hard, I know,” you send a playful wink his way. 

Too late. Turns out it’s not that hard. Jake would know. 

Jake continues to stare at you in hesitation. Yeah, you’ve had your fair share of crazy ideas (that Jake always find himself agreeing to––the poor boy just can’t seem to say no to you), but fake dating you?

Jake is sure he wouldn’t be able to pull it off without slowly destroying himself. He’d just have to say no, he’s sure you can find someone else to do it for you. 

Yes, that’s it, just say no. 

Jake has to keep some of his pride in tact. 

Jake does not say no. 

He doesn’t know what went wrong. His mind said one thing, but his words said another. 

To be fair, Jake’s actions have always been influenced by his heart, not his brain, anyways. And when it comes to you, you bet it’ll be coming from his heart. 

So here he was now, under the stare of three equally shocked and confused guys across from you and him at the lunch table, your fingers intertwined with his.

Just a few seconds ago, you had spotted the rest of the lunch bunch approaching the table, and you quickly grabbed Jake’s hand and scooted in closer to him.  

Now here you were, explaining to your friends of your sudden relationship.  

Jake is too zoned out to even physically pick up your explanation. Something along the lines of "we’ve been dating for a while but didn’t want to tell you guys yet." From the feeling of your hand clutched tightly into his and your body right up next to him, his mind was short-circuiting. 

How is he supposed to last an entire week of this if he couldn't handle innocent hand holding? Hand holding? God, what are we, back in the fifth grade?  

Two minutes into this scheme and Jake's mind has already downgraded itself to a fifth grader's.  

Jake mentally scolds himself for giving in, this was not a good idea. 

It takes Jake approximately 12 hours to conclude that this stunt of yours may, actually, be a good idea. He knows this because approximately 12 hours after the events surrounding lunch, he receives a text from you: 

y/n [12:03AM]: thanks again for doing this for me jake

y/n [12:03AM]: ur actually the best

y/n [12:04AM]: ew ok that was cheesy but really i owe u a big one <333

Following your thread of texts is a really close up photo of you widely smiling into the camera. A smile so big, Jake’s convinced your face was probably in pain after taking that picture. 

Anyone else might’ve thought the photo looked borderline insane but because Jake’s Jake, aka a simpᵗᵐ for you, he comes to the conclusion that it’s singlehandedly the cutest thing he’s ever seen in the entire world. 

After quickly saving the selfie into his phone, Jake tells himself that maybe this won’t be a bad thing after all. I mean, anything that makes you smile like that meant it has to be a good idea, right? 

Spoken like a true simp. 

Plus, dating you––fake dating you––is pretty much the same as it was before. He already spends most of his days with you to begin with. Now, it’s just with added displays of affection. For show, obviously. Obviously. 

And look, if Jake will never get to actually be with you, then he’ll take what he can get. And if that meant fake dating you, well, he reasons that it’s better than nothing at all. 

Wednesday, December 9th 

Jake’s playing with the rings on your right hand and you’re in the middle of dramatically telling the lunch table about the infuriating Karen you had to deal with at work the other day when Jay comes up with a grin you all know a little too well. 

“Okay that grin means one of two things: you finally grew the balls to ask out that poor girl you’ve been teasing all year or you have something planned that we won’t like,” you interrupt your story when you catch Jay’s sly expression, evoking a chuckle from Jake, who’s now found a new distraction with the bracelets perches on your wrist. 

“Excuse you, I’ll have you know that I did ask her out. It just so happens that she’s currently ‘in between boyfriends’ whatever that means. Ouch, by the way,” Jay feigns hurt from your comment by clutching the area above his heart through his shirt. Ever the drama queen. “But yes, I do have something planned. And no, it’s not a bad idea.” 

Jay squeezes his way in between Sunghoon and Heeseung from across you and begins to pull out his own lunch. Everyone’s eyes follow him as he settles in because as bad as his unknown idea may be, you’re all still curious on what this boy has to say. 

“Well are you going to elaborate or...” Heeseung speaks up for everyone after you all mentally debate one another through darting eyes on who’s going to have to bite Jay’s silent bait.

Jay then forcefully sets both hands on his table, which elicits a little jump from you as you go for a bite of your sandwich. Adorable, Jake tells himself. 

“My parents are out of town this weekend. We all know what that means...” 

Yes. We do know what that means. The four of you have seen this scenario play out many times, a little too many times for your own good. 

This meant one of Jay’s infamous house parties that he always throws whenever his parents go out of town. And because his parents are hot-shot CEOs of an important company whose name you don’t remember (it’s nothing personal, your brain can only handle so much information and this physics exam you were studying for took up 90% of your brain capacity at the moment), they’re out of town often. 

And along with Jay’s parties comes chaos. Lots of it. And that’s because...well, it’s safe to say that despite the many school-wide presentations the police officers of your school have held in the auditorium on why you shouldn’t drink underage, Jay’s parents’ liquor cabinet always seems to find itself missing many a few bottles after each party. But we don’t talk about that. Shush. 

Almost simultaneously, everyone at the table lets out a groan, much to Jay’s disappointment. 

“C’mon guys! It’s been a while since anything’s fun happened to this school, think of all the sad students in that building right now,” he extends a finger whole-ass arm and points at your school, “who are in dire need of fun and a little...” he punctuates his sentence with the hand motion of chugging down a drink, followed with a gulping sound elicited from his tongue clicking. 

You roll your eyes along with everyone else. Don’t be like Jay, kids. Listen to those police officers. 

“Jay, it’s midterm season! I have an exam on Monday and I definitely do not want to spend the nights before wasted,” you give him an apologetic look. As crazy as Jay is, you do feel bad nonetheless. The boy just wants to have fun. 

Your response is followed up with similar comments from around the table. 

“I’m helping y/n study” 

“I have an important skating performance on Sunday” 

“Uh...my hamster died?” (ok Heeseung panicked, don’t blame the guy)

Ignoring that last excuse of an excuse, Jay continues his debate nonetheless. “Just come for the sake of it! No one’s saying you have to get wasted. Pleaseeee for me?” 

Jay throws these parties so often, you’re not sure why he’s so set on making sure you’re all going to be there. Well, I guess who wouldn’t want their closest friends to be at their own party? 

That and, Jay needs to make sure his friends are there to stop him from doing anything stupid. We all know this boy has had enough embarrassing moments to last him a lifetime. 

Everyone at the table gives each other the same hesitant look. Heeseung is the first to give in, “Oh fuck it. Sure, count me in.” 

Jay’s fist pumping the air before turning to Sunghoon with the most hopeful eyes. 

Sunghoon simply sighs in return. “Alright okay, I’ll bite. But if you vomit on my shoes again, I’m out the door.” Jay’s finger is automatically drawing a cross over his heart as a promise to not ruin Sunghoon’s Nikes again. 

He then looks to you with puppy eyes. 

You, who's already staring back at Jay with a stoic look in your eyes, are stubborn and (unlike the previous weaklings) are not as easy to convince. And somehow, this began an unannounced staring contest between the two of you, a contest to see who would budge first. This isn't an uncommon occurrence between you and Jay, but the rest of the boys are still on the edges of their seats watching this duel.

Jake casually wraps an arm around your shoulder and you’re brought in close, but still undeterred from your death-stare match with the boy across from you. 

If it’s not obvious enough, Jake’s really gotten into his role of being your boyfriend, despite it only being 24 hours since he last froze at your touch. Character development, you’ll give him that. 

You almost forget he’s faking it for a quick second. And for an even quicker second, you imagine he wasn’t faking it. And you swear you feel butterflies in your stomach at that thought. 

Weird. 

You mentally shake the thought out of your head. Priorities first, aka, beating Jay in this staring contest. 

“Fuck,” you stutter when you finally blink, admitting defeat to a grinning Jay. “Okay, okay, I’ll THINK about it. I’ll let you know.” 

Not exactly the answer Jay was looking for, but he’ll take it. Better than a no. 

He turns to Jake next, knowing there’s no way Jake will turn down a party. Just like Jay, the boy loves himself a good party. 

But–

But because Jake would take your physics exam this Monday for you if you asked, because Jake would bungee jump in the Grand Canyon without a safety net below him if you asked, because Jake would fake date you to make your crush jealous for you if you asked, he doesn’t hesitate in his answer this time around: “Same as y/n, I’ll let you know.” 

Jay looks at Jake. Then back at you, who he’s still clinging onto like a koala to a tree. Then back at Jake. “You two are gross. Admittedly cute. But gross.” 

You look up at the boy next to you to see him already grinning at you. 

For the first time today, you find yourself agreeing with Jay. 

Admittedly cute. 

Thursday, December 10th 

You are having a bad day. 

You’re having the mother of bad days. 

Not only is it midterm season, but you still have all your regular weekly assignments to finish before Friday hits. So as a natural-born procrastinator does, you stayed up all last night trying to get a good amount of work done because what’s better than cramming all your work the night before it’s due? Doing it two nights before it’s due. 

Well apparently it wasn’t such a good idea. Because now, here you were, frantically throwing on whatever articles of clothing you find nearest to you because you slept through all your alarms. 

You’re lucky enough to make it through your school’s doors right as the second bell rings, even if you did look like you just walked straight out of a zombie apocalypse. 

You’re not so lucky when you find out your first class of the day, calculus, had a pop quiz. A pop quiz on the only unit you just happened to know absolutely nothing about. 

To top things off, you forgot to pack your lunch during this morning’s frenzy, meaning you’re automatically stuck sharing with Jake.

And because his mother started making him pack his own food out of a lesson of responsibility (she said something along the lines of: “Jake, you’re about to be in college and you don’t know how to pack a decent meal”), he only has a plain PB&J sandwich and a pack of Scooby-Doo gummies in his bag today (because newsflash, he still doesn’t know how to pack a decent meal). 

Not that you could care less at the moment, you were too preoccupied with catching up on your assignments to even eat. And if any of the boys noticed your zombie-like state during lunch, they did a good job of not mentioning it. They knew better than to bother an irritated y/n. 

Somehow, you make it through the entire school day and your after-school meeting for environmental club (save the trees!) in one piece. As you finally walk out of the school building, you exhale, automatically feeling lighter. At least the hard part of your day was done. 

Now you just had to wait for Jake to finish soccer practice, which usually ended around the same time as your club, and he can drive you home, where you can continue being irritated with your day in the privacy of your own space. 

You wait on the steps of the school’s entrance, waiting for a smiley Jake to come around the corner as he usually does at 5:30pm every Thursdays. 

Yes, a smiling Jake is exactly what you needed to make your day ten times better, you conclude. 

As if on cue, you hear a ding from your phone. 

Jake [5:30PM]: ugh coach is extending practice for “team bonding” 

Jake [5:30PM]: idek what team bonding is 

Jake [5:31PM]: you ok if i cant drive you today? :// 

It’s as if the universe decided to use you as its punching bag today. 

You physically let out a distorted groan, not caring if anyone who happened to hear you thought you were a creature from out of this world, as you send him a text back.

y/n [5:32PM]: it’s all good lol have fun with tEaM bOnDiNg

Things were not all good. But no matter how upset you may be, you weren’t going to project your negative vibes onto Jake’s naturally positive ones. So you get up from the stone steps and begin your dreaded walk back home. 

It’s freezing out. You should’ve known better to just throw on a hoodie and call it a day when it’s the middle of December. But then again, you figured by now you’d be in the comfort and warmth of Jake’s car and presence...not walking home in these freezing temperatures. 

You think about Jake and how he’s probably currently suffering from not only his team bonding exercises (but really though, what are team bonding exercises?), but doing them in this weather as well. The poor boy. 

You’re quickly broken out of your thoughts by the sound of a car engine from behind you. When you don’t see it pass by you and instead hear it pull over and park next to the curb of the sidewalk you’re currently on, you automatically deduce that this is it, this is my time, I’m about to get kidnapped by whoever it is behind me but y/n, you should probably turn around and check first before you drive yourself insane in this inner dialogue. 

You turn around and squint into the front window of the car. If it were a kidnapper, this is exactly what your mother told you not to do. Her exact words were: “Run, don’t look back, and scream bloody murder.” 

Good thing it wasn’t. Just an innocent Sunghoon waving his hand at you, motioning you to get in. 

“Sunghoon?” You approach his car and stop at the passenger side’s open window. 

“y/n! It’s freezing out, I’ll drive you home c’mon,” he nods his head towards the passenger side door. 

Well, how could you say no? Sunghoon owns a nice car. Like a nice car. Like car-seat-heaters-that-make-you-feel-like-you’re-physically-melting nice. Beats getting hypothermia outside, right? 

“Why are you going home from school so late?” You ask as you settle into his car, instantly melting at the touch of the aforementioned heated seats. 

“Debate club, actually. Decided I needed another personality trait other than ice skating,” he starts the engine and begins driving towards the direction of your neighborhood. 

You laugh at his comment, you didn’t peg him as a debate kind of student. Quiet Sunghoon? Debate club? If 2 plus 2 is four...

“Hey, I don’t call you the Ice Prince for nothing! Also, don’t forget your other personality trait: forgetting your lunch every day.” 

Sunghoon quickly glances over at you to send you a dirty look (because eyes on the road, kids!), which you return with a cheeky grin. “Need I remind you that was you today?” 

“Touché,” you click your tongue. 

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the faint sound of Sunghoon's music in the background filling in the quietness.  

You’re humming along until Sunghoon breaks the silence, “Did Jake get stuck at practice again?” 

You don’t know why, but you swear you feel your heart beat faster at the mention of Jake’s name. No, that was always there right? Because you were with Sunghoon...your crush..obviously. Obviously. 

Ignoring the feeling, you turn your attention towards the boy driving you. 

“Oh yeah, something about team bonding. How’d you know?” 

“Eh, I just figured since he wasn’t driving you home like he always does.” He turns into your neighborhood. 

You nod at his answer. 

“You two make a good couple.” 

You whip your head at him. Did you hear him correctly?

“It was about time, really. You two have been ogling at one another for so long, Heeseung, Jay, and I almost placed bets on who would be the first to make a move.” 

He keeps his eyes on the road, casually going on about how you and Jake make the cutest couple he’s ever seen. 

You're frozen, unsure of what to think, let alone say. 

You think to two days ago, when you started this entire fake relationship because of the very boy driving you home right now. The same boy who's complimenting you on your fake relationship. The same boy who's supposed to be jealous over that said relationship. The same boy you’re supposed to be crushing over.

But now...only a mere 48 hours later, you were finding yourself okay with the fact that he was happy for you. And for the life of you, you couldn’t remember why you liked Sunghoon in the first place. Not saying he isn’t one to be crushed on, I mean, look at the guy. 

Maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the fact that you didn't feel nervous or giddy or..anything at all when you got into the car with Sunghoon. At least, not until Jake's name was mentioned. That's when you felt the butterflies. At the mention of Jake.  

Jake. 

Weird. 

But before you can come to a conclusion on why you're feeling the way you do, Sunghoon interrupts your thoughts.  

"Well, we're here! Say hi to your parents for me," he pulls into your driveway as you're still collecting your thoughts.  

You give him a quick thanks and one last wave as you enter the front doors of your house.  

Seeing that your only solution towards confusing feelings meant distracting yourself, distract yourself you did.  

Even if it meant distracting yourself with your piling assignments.  

The next time you look up from your work, it's suddenly way past sundown and a heavy storm has taken over. You’re surprised it hasn’t started flooding yet with the amount of rainfall you were hearing. 

You check the time on your phone, the bright 8:16PM on the screen illuminating your dimly lit room. Seeing that neither of your parents have yet to be home from work, it looks like you were going to have to settle with some instant ramen for dinner tonight.  

As you trudge down the stairs of your home, the sound of light knocking against the front door catches your attention. It's been a long day y/n, you're probably hearing things, it's definitely just the rain.

Nope. There it is again, but much louder. Much more urgent.  

You contemplate any and all potential disasters that could happen from answering the door. Only a crazy person would be willing to go out in this hurricane-like weather to be frantically knocking on your door.  

And so, you assume it has to be some psychopath trying to get into your house. Yes, there’s definitely no other logical explanation. 

You scramble around your living room, looking for the next best weapon to defend you. Resorting to the flower vase your mother keeps on the table next to the front door, you hold it out in front of you, as if you're waiting for the door to burst open.  

The knocking continues, gradually getting louder. You mentally curse at yourself for dropping out of the taekwondo class your dad signed you up for when you were younger.  

Vase in hand, you swing open the door and brace for–

"Jake? What the fuck? Get in here, you're gonna get sick!"  

You’re suddenly aware of how stupid you look, holding a light pink vase with a couple of orchids as your only form of self-defense...for it to only be your own best friend. You immediately put it back on the table as Jake quickly rushes past you and into your humble abode.  

You close the door behind you and turn to face the soaked boy.  

“I come bearing gifts, also known as take-out and hot chocolate from that one cafe you love. Also my company, if you’ll take it. I had a feeling you weren’t having the best day today,” he’s simply standing there, holding up a large brown paper bag in one hand, and a deliciously smelling cup of hot chocolate in the other, but you’re looking at him as if he bought you the Moon. 

You stare in awe at the angel of a boy in front of you, silently thanking the stars for gifting you this amazing human being as your best friend. You don’t know what you did to deserve him. 

You give him a soft smile. “Jake, you didn’t have to. It’s practically a shitstorm out there,” you cock your head towards the window, showcasing the downpour of cats and dogs outside. Jake stays by the entrance as you go down the hall and through your house’s linen closet to find a spare towel for the drenched boy.

“Nah it’s no big deal, really. Just fulfilling my duties as your loyal boyfriend,” he grins, even though you can’t see him. He likes calling himself that. Your boyfriend.

Jake continues to shake his messy hair to get the excess rain off, giving a mental apology to whoever is going to have to mop up the puddle forming on the floor due to his unannounced visit. Probably you. 

Jake hears you laugh down the hall. “You’re really invested in your role, huh? Keep this up and you might actually trick me into believing you’re my actual boyfriend.” 

Actual boyfriend? Jake likes the sound of that. Maybe he will keep this up then.

Jake doesn’t have much experience in acting, unless you count that time he played the role of Town Villager #3 in the third grade play, so he never found it as one of his interests. But playing the role of your boyfriend was one he was willing to fulfill for the rest of life, even if it was just for show. 

Jake doesn’t respond to your comment, he’s instead self-aware of his blushing cheeks, thankful that you’re too busy rummaging through your linen closet to take notice. 

“Plus, you didn’t have lunch today and I had feeling you were going to be too caught up in your work to feed yourself anything other than instant ramen,” he sets down his gifts to you on your living room’s coffee table as you come around the corner, fresh towel and new set of clothes in hand. 

His eyes fall on the familiar looking pair of sweatpants and hoodie resting on the palms of your hands. 

Hm. A little too familiar. 

Then, it clicks in his head. 

His eyes narrow at you as you giggle at his reaction, “Oh, so it takes me getting drenched in the rain for you to finally return my clothes that I’ve been missing!?” 

“Hey! I’m not returning them, simply loaning them out to a friend who’s in dire need. You basically gifted them to me the second you left them here months ago.” 

“You’re annoying.” 

“Love you too,” you toss the clothes at him and take a seat on the floor around your coffee table, prepping the table with the boxes of Chinese food Jake supplied. 

After Jake changes into the stolen dry clothes, he takes a seat next to an already-eating you at the coffee table. 

“You. are. my lord and savior Sim Jaeyun,” you’re saying with your mouth full of fried rice. You sigh from satisfaction and rest your head against Jake’s shoulder as you continue chewing. He grins as he helps himself to his own serving of fried rice and orange chicken. 

You look up at him from your spot, “How was team bonding today?” 

Jake groans in response, clearly annoyed. “Stupid. I don’t get how doing trust falls and pyramid building is going to get us any closer. If anything, I almost FELL off that pyramid today!” 

You don’t know why, but you find yourself admiring him and his soft features as he continues to rant about one of his teammates, specifically, the one who almost dropped him. 

The way his messy hair, unkept from the rain ruining it, almost covers his eyes (but you tell yourself you like it this way, it looks more natural on him), the way the corners of his lips are always perked upwards (even when he’s ranting), the way his eyes sparkle whenever he’s truly passionate about whatever he’s talking about, the way his eyes look at you like–

“Stare much? Look, I get you can’t resist my good looks but at least be subtle about it,” he smirks at you as he takes another spoon of rice. 

You break out of his trance and scoff at him. 

“You’re cute when you rant,” you nonchalantly say as you move from your spot to mirror his actions and add more rice to your plate as well.  Jake’s stills at your sudden comment, unsure of how to respond. Lucky for him, you’re distracted by the mountain of food on your plate to even notice the blushing mess of a boy next to you. 

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute. Or else I’d deck you right here and now for ditching me after school today.” 

Anddd there goes the moment. Leave it to you to follow up a compliment with a threat of violence. 

Jake finds it cute anyways. He always finds you cute. 

Jake narrows his eyes and lightly shoves you before an apology is written all over his face. “Sorry about that by the way. I feel awful about making you walk home when it was freezing out.” 

“Nah, it’s okay. Sunghoon gave me a ride, actually. Did you know he does debate? I guess you learn something new everyday,” you ramble, unaware of the boy next to you getting tense at the sudden mention of the other’s name. 

Up until now, Jake’s completely forgotten about Sunghoon's involvement in this entire scheme. In fact, the past 48 hours with you have felt so normal, so comfortable, he almost forgot about the deal in the first place.   “You think he has any clue?” Jake suddenly asks, referring to the plan. 

You immediately know what he’s referring to, as Jake practically worded out your very own thoughts. 

You shrug. “Not a single one. We’re practically William and Kate in his eyes. But honestly, that’s the least of my worries right now. I’m too distracted by my exams right now to care.” 

Jake feels guilty for being satisfied with your answer. He’s 100% sure that if convincing Sunghoon took you two an entire lifetime of fake dating, he’d be all too willing to do it. 

“Go to Jay’s party with me tomorrow,” he abruptly says, catching your attention as your mouth is stuffed. Cute. 

He pokes your cheek. “It’ll get your mind off of work and plus, what’s more convincing than showing up to a party with your amazing boyfriend?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Jake doesn’t know where he gets his sudden surge of confidence. But he does know he loves calling himself your boyfriend...even if it’s for the time being. 

Rolling your eyes and swatting his poking fingers away from your face, you ponder on his suggestion. 

“You mean my annoying boyfriend,” you stick your tongue out at him. Jake takes a mental picture and hopes it never leaves his mind. 

“But I guess you could be right. Maybe I can clear my head for the night before I study my ass off all weekend.” 

Friday, December 11th 

The party does not clear your mind. 

If anything, it gives you enough headaches to last you at least until the end of high-school. 

You come to this revelation as you and Jake approach Jay’s home, a luxurious mansion sitting at the end of a cul-de-sac, lined with similarly luxurious palaces, located in an equally luxurious neighborhood. 

You come to this revelation when you can already feel the pounding bass of music as you walk up Jay’s driveway. 

You come to this revelation when, not even two seconds after entering Jay’s front doors––

“You’re here!” A buzzed Jay shouts at the two of you, causing the both of you to contemplate your past choices that brought you here today. Jay definitely isn’t straight up drunk yet, but Jake still makes a mental note to keep an eye on him tonight. Just in case. 

The blonde-haired boy is quick to hand over two red solo cups of god knows what, to which you and Jake immediately put down on the nearest table after Jay walks away to greet the next incoming guests (you know, to not hurt his feelings). 

You and Jake are lucky enough to have been around Jay and his parties long enough to know that going all out at these parties will not be pretty the next morning.

You cringe at the memory of last year, when you had to suffer from possibly the worst hangover of all hangovers after one of Jay’s parties. Jake will never let you forget how miserable you looked the next morning. His camera roll’s album titled “y/n blackmail pics” can vouch for that.

“Remind me again to never listen to you,” you almost have to shout at Jake over the thumping music. Jake laughs at your comment and tugs at your hand as he begins entering the house.

The two of you do your rounds of greetings to the people you know...and random underclassmen who you swear you have never seen before but somehow made it to this party. You’ve always questioned how Jay’s invite list worked. Maybe there isn’t one. That would explain how it looked like someone announced Jay was giving out free Teslas and the entire school got hold of the news. 

“Thank god you guys are here,” you hear a voice come from behind the two of you as you guys leave the main room to enter the house’s smaller, but just as luxurious looking, den. You turn to see Heeseung with Sunghoon following closely behind, trying his best not to get swept away in the crowd of people. 

The den is where you usually stayed during these parties. It’s not like there are rules of where people are allowed to party, by any means, but it’s like how a high-school’s cafeteria worked. There’s a mutual silent agreement of where everyone goes, and the den is where the party host and his friends went.  

“Okay, is it just me, or is tonight’s party just a little...too..much?” Sunghoon asks as the four of you take your seats on the main couch of the room. Jake’s quick to make space for you next to him as you go to sit, but to his surprise, you find your home right on his lap. 

“You said be convincing right?” you say into his ear as you settle yourself. Right. That’s totally why. Because you had to go along with the ruse. Obviously. 

You shift a bit so you’re more facing sideways, not blocking off Jake’s line of vision as the boy himself is..well, calling him a rag doll might be excessive. 

But he’s sure he looks like one right now, having lost all senses in his limbs, leaving him frozen underneath you. 

Jake Sim is the epitome of politeness. He was raised in a family that taught him how to respectfully greet others, how to always offer food to others before eating it himself, how to properly treat a significant other. As a result, Jake grew up to be one of the sweetest, kindest, purest people to ever walk this earth. 

(Relatively speaking, the earth is large, but so is Jake’s heart.) 

But human-beings aren’t perfect, they must have a balance. A balance of pros and cons. 

Sure, he can’t pack his own lunch and sometimes forgets to water the little succulent you gifted him that’s currently seated on his window sill. Sure, sometimes he’s too sweet for his own good, you know, like willing-to-be-your-fake-boyfriend too sweet. But aside from the minor details, Jake Sim doesn’t have many cons, no. 

But he sure can be awkward. 

And so because Jake Sim is sweet, kind, pure, and awkward, he is unsure of what to do with himself when you’re seated right on top of him. 

As if you could read his befuddled mind, you take his arm that’s resting behind you to wrap around your waist as your support as you throw one of your arms around his shoulder. And throughout this entire adjustment, his widened eyes are staring right at you. 

Bless this pure, pure boy. 

Also bless the position you’re in, blocking the two other boys from directly seeing Jake’s face. Because if they were to catch glimpse of Jake’s expression right now, your cover might be blown, just like that. You’re lucky Heeseung and Sunghoon are distracted by another classmate who came up to them. 

“Relax,” you sweetly laugh, cupping his chin with your free hand and lightly squeezing his cheeks. “You’re so adorably awkward.” 

Jake pouts at you. “I am not awkward!” 

“Right, and I’m totally dating you for real,” you playfully whisper at him, eliciting a poke at your waist in response. 

Twenty minutes of people-watching-aka-“who do you think is gonna pass out first?”-from-your-spot-on-the-couch later, the four of you draw your attention to the rowdy party host you all have the honor of calling your friend––aka Jay––dancing (that is, if you call wildly swinging your limbs in all four directions dancing) in the middle of the den. 

"Oh god, look at him," Sunghoon voices from besides you.

Heeseung's already filming the moment on his phone. Ah yes, technology. The best thing to ever happen to drunk teens' friends.  

"He's so wasted," you throw your head back as you let out a laugh. “We should help the kid out.” 

Poor Jay. He's not gonna hear the end of it after tonight.

"I don't know why he thinks these parties are such a good idea when he knows how trashed he's gonna be when he wakes up," Jake says, his hand naturally squeezing your waist as you giggle at his comment. "And how trashed the house will be."  

Jay slumbers over to where the four of you are seated, and abruptly stops right in front of the couch.

"My best friends!" Jay happily cheers. “Having fun?” 

“Watching you? Always,” you say to the boy who’s squeezing into a seat between you and Sunghoon, as if the small couch wasn’t already suffocating enough (and that’s with you on Jake’s lap). 

“But for real though, you should probably lay off the drinks for now,” Heeseung insists. “For all our sakes.” 

Sunghoon nods along and grabs the cup Jay’s currently nursing and sets it down where it’s out of Jay’s reach, much to his dismay. But the disappointment quickly leaves the dazed boy’s head, as his attention is now directed towards you and Jake. 

“Well if it isn’t mom and dad,” Jay turns to face you and Jake, certainly amused by your seating arrangement. 

“You know–” Jay points a finger at the two of you. “For a couple that’s certainly close, I haven’t seen you two kiss.” 

Jake is immediately coughing, certainly not expecting that to come out of his friend’s mouth. 

“Okay and your point is?” Jake frowns at Jay. If Jay wasn’t tipsy, Jake would’ve smacked the back of his head by now. 

“I’m just saying...” the blonde responds, both hands up in the air as if Jake is accusing him of something, when in was, in fact, the opposite. “But nevermind, Jakey boy here is probably too innocent for such nonsense anyways.” 

Yes, it’s confirmed. Once Jay sobers up tomorrow, Jake is driving over to his house (even though it’s a good ten minute drive from his own) just to smack him. 

“What do you mean I’m too–” 

Jake doesn’t finish his sentence. In fact, Jake doesn’t even remember what he was going to say. 

Jake doesn’t think nor feel anything else other than your lips planted on his. 

You’re pulling him in close, your hands cupping his face as his own are twitching on your waist, his mind flustered. You move your hands from his face to his neck, to which Jake immediately relaxes at. 

Sure, you two are in the middle of a dumb high-school party, one filled with pounding music and shouting teenagers, but right now, in this moment, Jake can only feel you. And he doesn’t want the feeling to ever stop. 

When you part, Jake’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, his own parted in shock. He thinks he might pass out right here and now. He thinks his heart might explode right here and now. He thinks he might lov-

“Happy?” you turn to a satisfied Jay, ignoring the looks of amusement from Heesung and Sunghoon besides him. 

“Well,” you pat Jake’s leg as you get up from your spot. “I’m gonna get us some drinks. Punch only, of course.” 

Jake’s eyes are on you as you walk away, his face tinted pink from the adrenaline of it all, his heart racing. 

Jake thinks back to three days ago, when he told himself that this idea of yours was going to be all fine. After all, it was only going to be for one week. Afterwards, he can move on with his life as if nothing happened. 

But fast forward 72 hours later, 72 hours after you and Jake started this act, 72 hours after Jake told himself it’ll be all fine, Jake knows he was poorly mistaken.

Because 72 hours later, in the middle of a party that reeked of the combined smell of alcohol and sweat, Jake knows one thing and one thing for sure.

He never wants to move on from the feeling of being with you. He never wants to move on from this.

From you. 

He’s screwed. 

Saturday, December 12th 

When Jake wakes up, much later than he intended to, on Saturday morning, the first sensation he feels are his tingling lips, still in disbelief that they graced your own last night. 

The second sensation being his pounding mind––it’s running through ten million thoughts at a time, telling him no last night wasn’t a dream. 

Third: his heart beating so fast at the thought of you, he thinks he might beat out of his chest.

And fourth, a buzzing noise. 

Jake blindly flounders his arm to the table beside him in hopes of finding the origin of the annoying sound, aka, his phone. 

After knocking down multiple miscellaneous items on his nightstand (he makes a mental note to clean his room later), he successfully retrieves the item of search. 

Jake squints at the bright screen, mind still cloudy from a mix of 1) being half-asleep, and 2) still processing what happened the night before. 

y/n [11:10AM]: r u awake yet? 

y/n [11:22AM]: imma take that as a no

y/n [11:35AM]: lemme know when ur up 

jake [11:44AM]: just woke up sorry 

jake [11:44AM]: are you okay? what’s up

y/n [11:45AM]: r u busy? 

y/n [11:45AM]: kinda wanted to talk abt smth

jake [11:45AM]: uh well no im still in bed lmao

y/n [11:46AM]: cool im outside your door 

Jake’s eyes widen as he processes your last few texts. 

Talk? Outside his door? 

Jake’s heart is nervously pounding as jumps out of bed and quickly puts on the first plaid flannel he finds. He scrambles to his mirror and gives his reflection a quick run-down. 

He’s sporting your his favorite hoodie underneath the flannel that’s long overdue a wash and his tousled hair has seen better days, but he couldn't care less. 

Before his mind can catch up to his actions, he’s rushing down the stairs, skipping two at a time and to this front door. Because he didn’t want to keep you waiting? Because he was too excited to see you? Maybe a mix of both. Definitely more of the latter, however. 

He quickly runs a hand through his hair to try to fix it up as much as he can, to no avail, before opening the door to reveal you, sitting on the steps of his front porch. 

“y/n,” he’s breathing heavily as you turn to greet him with your sweet smile he didn’t even realize he was missing. Is it possible to miss someone overnight? Jake concludes yes, it definitely is. 

“Did you run down here or something?,” you question his out-of-breath state, a teasing tone laces the tip of your tongue. 

“Or something,” Jake mutters as he closes the front door behind him to join you on the steps when you make no sign of moving. “Have you been out here all morning?” 

“Not allll morning. I had a feeling you’d sleep in so I came around the time I first texted you. Would’ve knocked but didn’t wanna bother your family,” you hum, keeping your eyes trained on the peaceful scenery around you. 

You’ve always loved Jake’s neighborhood, it brought you a sense of peace, a sense of home. 

Or was that because it reminded you of Jake? 

“You could never be a bother,” he quickly rebuttals as he takes his seat next to you on the steps. 

You respond with a soft smile before turning your attention back to anything other than the boy next to you. Your mind seems to be lost in its own thoughts, Jake can tell by the distant look in your eyes. 

The sound of birds chirping in the distance fills the silence that falls between the two of you. 

Any other day, Jake would love this. He savors every second he’s with you, even if it’s just pure silence. 

But this silence was different. It wasn’t the usual comforting, warm silence that the two of you share on a typical day. This one held tension, tension so thick that Jake doesn’t know where to begin thinking. 

But here’s the thing. Jake doesn’t think. 

Not when it comes to you. 

He takes a deep breath. Rubs his hands together. Pats them on his lap. Turns towards you. 

“Look, I-” 

“I think I might like you.” The words come out of your mouth so fast, Jake’s positive he heard you wrong the first time around. 

He whips his head to meet your eyes, your own already staring back at him, your bottom lip nervously tucked under your teeth. 

“No, I––I do. I know I do. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you and I don’t think I’m doing a very good job right now,” the words are all of the sudden tumbling out of your mouth as if your brain flipped a switch and isn’t able to turn it off. “In hindsight, I should’ve known better to fake date my own best friend. But these past few days made me realize how much I love being with you. And not like how I’m always with you 24/7 before this entire thing started, but being with you. I even started getting that weird, bubbly feeling in my stomach every time I so much as heard your name. And then last night at the party, I realized afterwards that I wouldn’t have kissed you if some part of me didn’t see you in that way. Even if it meant Jay would’ve been on our asses all night if I didn’t. So yeah.” 

You finish with a deep breath and look up at him to meet his widened eyes. Silence.

Jake thought he was braindead during last week’s history quiz. Jake thought he was braindead when he had to cram a semester’s worth of chemistry content the night before his exam. Heck, Jake thought he was braindead when you first told him about your idea of a fake dating him. But no, this is braindead.

He’s finally hearing what he’s been dreaming of for so long, and of all times, now his brain decides to shut off.  

“Are you..uh..are you gonna say anything?” You’re nervously fumbling with your hands, desperate to distract yourself with anything else apart from his silent stare. 

"Why are you sorry?" Jake says before his mind can think of anything else. He doesn't pay attention to his thumping heart that's one look-from-you away from exploding right then and there. "You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, you took the words right out of my mouth.” 

Now you're staring at him with the wide eyes, the words processing in your mind.

Jake realizes he's waited too long to do this. A few years too long. He also realizes he shouldn't have put on that extra layer of a flannel. The nervous tension created by the two of you was suffocating enough, and being outside under the bright sun didn’t help. 

"I like you too. God y/n, I like you too so much," Jake doesn't even care if his words are all sorts of messed up right now. He just needs you to get the idea. "I have for a while now.” 

You let out a relieved sigh, ecstasy rushing through your blood. “Really? I think I have for a while too. I’m so stupid, it took me so long to realize it. It didn’t hit me until I realized how I felt around you, compared to the guy I’m supposed to actually have a crush on.” 

Jake lets out a laugh, the tension immediately dissolving. “Hey, if it wasn’t for Sunghoon, I don’t think we’d be here right now.” 

“You’re right, I’m too oblivious and you’re too awkward to actually make a move,” you wink at him. If his heart wasn’t fluttering at the sight of you, on his porch on a Saturday morning, confessing your feelings to him, Jake probably would’ve lightly shoved you away. 

Instead, he’s turning to you with the most endeared look on his face, and you’re blushing underneath his gaze.

“What? Stare much?” You giggle, quoting the boy himself as you shyly duck your head to avoid his stare. 

Jake gently grabs your chin to tilt your face towards his, and before you can process what’s happening, he suddenly meets your lips with his own, closing the gap between you two. 

Jake thinks if the ground underneath him right now decided to open up and swallow him whole, he’d die happily. 

Jake smiles against you, feeling comfort in ways he’ll never be able to achieve without you. 

Your hands instinctively find their way into his hair, as one of his rests below your ear, thumb softly caressing your cheek, the other pulling you in by the waist. He’s naturally leaning into you, gravitating towards your warmth, unable to stop the giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach. 

He doesn’t think the feeling will ever go away. 

When you pull away to catch your breath, you rest your head against the nook of his neck, basking in his presence as his arms both find their way around your waist. You sigh in pleasure. 

“Remember at the beginning of all of this, when you told me ‘Just try not to fall in love with me?’” Jake gently says. Jake feels the slight nod you give against his shoulder as you hum in response. 

Jake whispers two more words into your ear, filling you with happiness and warmth you know you won’t be able to find through anyone––or anything––else. 

“Too late.” 

✰ if you made it ‘til the end, ily :’))))) 

[writing-blog-iguess]

Harley Quinn

Summery: The batfamily hears three stories about batmom and Harley. How they met, how they started dating, and how they ended.

Warning: fluff, angst.

A/N: This bish is 4847 words. I did not mean to write that much.

Man, the amount of love I got from Stories...I'm so happy people enjoyed it. So, I hope you enjoy this one just as much.

Feedback is welcome! And feel free to let me know who or what kind of story of Batmom you want to see next.

-------

There were only two weeks left of summer, and she wanted to move onto campus as soon as possible. But her friend, Selina, had made it a little difficult for her. On the first day the campus was allowing their students to come, Selina had come over and stopped her from packing. And they spent the day together shopping, seeing a movie and eating. Selina ended up crashing at her place after they had binged a show.

When she started packing the next day, Selina did the same. But after a promise of hanging out when she was settled in her dorms, Selina conceded and helped with the packing. And after some whining and pizza, Selina came with her to campus to help as well.

Struggling to keep the heavy box in her hands, she made her way towards her dorm. “You can help me, you know,” she grunted, shifting the box as it was slipping out of her arms.

“I am,” Selina said, holding up a couple of garbage bags full of clothes. “My hands are just full to help you carry your box.”

“You’re funny,” she deadpanned. Selina flashed her a smile, to which she returned one of her own.

“And that’s why you love me.”

“No, no I don’t think that’s it,” she mused, looking at each dorm number. “I think I love your cat more. And that’s why we’re friends.”

Selina gasped mockingly, and bumped her shoulder. “I knew it!” She laughed just as she found her dorm room.

Fishing out her key from her pocket, she handed it to Selina and waited until Selina opened the door. The minute she walked through the door, she was eloped in a hug. It caught her by surprise that she dropped the box she was holding.

“Hiya! I’m your new roommate!”

“And they were roommates,” Dick gasped out, interrupting the story.

“Oh my god, they were roommates,” Tim finished, and three out of the four boys burst out laughing.

“You two are hilarious,” she said, slumping into her chair. They had just finished dinner when the boys started bombarding her with questions about her and Harley. And after teasing them a little about which story. She started with how she met her ex-fiancé.

“Are you two done?” Bruce asked, and the laughter slowly downed a little. Until they caught each other’s eyes, and it started again.

Damian rolled his eyes, and turned to his mother. “I didn’t know you and Selina were in a relationship,” he said, and that had caused Dick, Jason and Tim to stop and look at her.

“No, no we weren’t dating,” she answered, shaking her head. “I didn’t know my sexuatilty until I started dating Harley.”

“And how long did that take?” Jason asked, rolling his cup on the table.

She blew out a puff of air and sighed. “When we were twenty-one. Even then I needed help.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard this one,” Bruce said with a smile. She flushed in embarrassment and looked away before recalling the story.

——

“Pumpkin,” her roommate sang from the other side of the room. She hummed, blinking at her homework trying to keep awake. She was currently laying on her stomach with her chin sitting on her hand. “Maybe you should take a break. You’ve been at it for hours.”

“Pft, I’m fine,” she answered, though the words were starting to blur together. “Hey!” she said, as Harley yanked the book from her. “I need that.”

“And you need a break,” she pressed, closing the book with a snap. “Come on Pumpkin, let’s get something to eat.”

She pouted trying to grab her textbook. Harley giggled and held it out of her reach. “Harley,” she whined, “the test I'm studying for is supposed to cost half of my grade.”

“You should know that taking care of your body is more important than school, doctor,” Harley teased. She stuck her tongue out, causing Harley to poke it. “Come on, we’ll go to your favourite café.”

She lit up and quickly got out of bed, almost tripping on her feet doing so. Harley laughed and tossed the book onto the bed. “You gotta be more careful, pumpkin.” She made a face, and grabbed her stuff before the two of them left their apartment.

She looped her arm through Harley’s as they walked. Talking about everything and nothing that came to mind. On occasion, she would check her phone, hoping for any messages from Bruce. But there were none.

She hasn’t spoken to Bruce since the last time they hung out, and she wondered if it was something that she did. Though the thought was ridiculous. They’ve only met up a handful of times since he’d been back. And even then, she couldn’t think of a reason why he was avoiding her.

The only thing she could think of was their first conversation they had together. But that was back when he first arrived in Gotham.

Bruce had found the apartment she was sharing with Harley, and decided to pay her a visit before the tabloids caught wind of him being back.

It had caught her by surprise when Harley called, saying there was a billionaire holding pizza. Confused on what she meant, she rounded the corner to find Bruce Wayne standing in her hallway.

After giving him a hug, and a little catch up, the three of you spent the night hanging out. And it felt like nothing had changed between the two of you.

It wasn’t until Harley had gone to bed, that Bruce told you everything that happened since leaving Gotham when he was fourteen. He told you how his training had gone, and all the people he’s met.

It was one thing reading about them through Bruce’s letters. But it was a different experience hearing them from Bruce. When he had finished, he told her it was time to start fixing Gotham his way.

With a sigh, she had hoped that he had changed his mind. Instead of talking him out of it, she suggested waiting a little bit before doing so. Make Bruce Wayne into a public figure, or more then he already is. And then have his second persona make an appearance. Only so people didn’t connect that the two were related.

That had been two months ago. And sure, she’s been busy with school and midterms were just around the corner, and Bruce was busy running a company and….well, being a playboy from what she’s read in magazines. She didn’t read the articles, it hurt a little reading them.

And he was also busy with being Batman. She laughed at the name the media had dubbed him, it almost made her call him up just to tease him about it. But she refrained from doing so. She was unsure where she fit in his new life, and at this point she was too afraid of the answer to ask.

When they arrived at the café, she found a table for them while Harley ordered.

Harley looked over the rim of the coffee cup in her hand when her friend sighed again. “You’re in love with Bruce!” Harley accused.

She dropped her bagel on her plate and stared at Harley in shock. “I am not!”

“You totally are! You keep checking your phone like your love sick, waiting for someone to call you.”

“I am not in love with Bruce,” she stuttered out, “why would I be? He left to go to school abroad, and shows up eight years later! And so what if I thought about him during those years, and was worried about him. That’s what friends do, they worry about them. It’s not like I noticed how much he’s changed or dream about holding his hand or...or kissing him or…or...” she trailed off as she thought back to all the times her heart hammered in her chest when he smiled at her.

Or all the times Bruce made her blush. She thought back to how she smiled when she saw Bruce’s letter in the mail, or how happy she felt as she read them. Or how relieved she felt when she saw Bruce in her apartment or how hurt she was when she saw him with different girls every night.

Then she thought about all that when she was with Harley. Could she be in love with Harley too? But she quickly dismissed it, thinking it wasn’t possible.

She slumped into her chair as Harley set her mug down, and smirked at her in satisfaction. “Holy hell, I’m in love with Bruce Wayne.”

“There it is,” Harley said, giggling as she received a glare. “You’ve known Bruce since you guys were little, how is it only now that you're realizing this?”

“I don’t…” she trailed off, hands picking up her cup. She twirled it around the table as she tried to come up with the right words, “I’m not...when I can’t pick up the cues when it comes to stuff like that.”

“So someone has to tell you that they love you. Like your parents loving you,” Harley mused, she shrugged.

“I know they do and I can see that they love me. But for whatever reason, when it comes to romantic feelings, I have a blind eye,” she explained, letting the cup go in favour of pulling apart her muffin. She huffed out a laugh. “It’s funny. Back in high school there was this guy who asked me out on a date. But he didn’t use those words, he used ‘wanna hang out?’

“I said yes. It wasn’t until he kissed me that it was starting to click. Even then I didn’t fully understand. Selina told me what it was that I knew. I was so embarrassed I couldn‘t face him. I feel like there’s something wrong with me.”

Harley leaned over and took her hands, she stilled her hands and her eyes flitted up to Harley. And her heart stuttered as Harley looked at her. “Nothing’s wrong with you pumpkin. People process things differently, you just happen to need someone to tell you.”

Relief washed over her and she smiled. “Thanks, Hars.” Harley hummed and leaned back, letting go of her hand. She missed the warmth of Haley’s hands, but didn’t think anything of it, especially when she noticed a twinkle in Harley's eyes.

“So, are you going to tell Brucie?” Harley teased, she made a face and shook her head.

“No, I will not,” she said.

“But he might love you back!” Harley exclaimed, “pumpkin, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He looks at you like you hung the moon every night.”

“Even if that’s true, I don’t think it’ll work. At least not right now,” she mumbled, and quickly added when Haley gave her a confused look, “he’s not interested in anything serious right now.”

Harley nodded in understanding, and she looked away when she saw pity in Harley's eyes.

That weekend, she found herself in the school library with Harley and Jonathan doing homework. Harley had just left for drinks, leaving the two of them alone.

Jonathan looked up from his homework and studied his friend. She hunched over her books and tapped her pencil on her head as she was going over a question.

“Are you and Harley dating?” Jonathan blurted out. She froze and lifted her head to look at him in surprise.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at her reaction, and stifled a laugh. “I think you heard me.”

“Oh I heard. But what made you come to that conclusion?” she clarified, squinting her eyes at him.

“The way you two act around each other,” he explained, “you're all in love and shit. It’s a wonder you haven’t kissed yet.”

“I don’t….but I can’t….” she trailed off. The words weren’t coming and she wasn’t quite sure if she did or not. “Friends can act like that platonically!”

“That’s true. But with you two, it’s hard to tell. You both have heart eyes every time you either talk about each other, or just being in the same room.”

She stayed quiet, she didn’t have anything to say.

“You know, when Harley told me you process feelings differently than most people, I thought she was joking,” he mused, this time chuckling.

“It’s great to know you talk about me,” she deadpanned, setting down her pencil.

“But I’m serious, do you like her or not?” he asked, and she let her head drop on her textbook and groaned.

“I don’t know. The other day, Harley helped me discover I’m in love with my childhood best friend. And now you're making me question my feelings for Harley.”

Jonathan held up his hands in surrender, though she wasn’t paying attention. “Wasn’t my intent, I just figured you needed to know.”

“Thanks,” she said dryly, and lifted her hand and flipped him off. He laughed and gently patted her head.

“I’ll ask a question or two, maybe it’ll help.”

She nodded but kept her head on the table. Jonathan's smile grew wider, enjoying this a little bit too much.

“When you see her, what do you do?”

She took a moment to ponder the question. “My heart starts to beat faster and I can’t help but think how pretty she is. And I get all flustered when she gets really close or she gives me a compliment. And when she’s happy and smiling and laughing, and my butterflies explode in my stomach when that happens because I did that. And sometimes, when she’s pouting or just sad, I just want to pull her into a kiss.”

Jonathan raised an eye at her statement, and had no doubt that she was blushing. “What about Bruce?”

“The same thing! He winks my way and the next thing I know I’m a blushing mess. And when he gives me a certain look, it’s like I gave him everything and I melt and just want to kiss his stupid face! And I hate him for that, but not really and….hhhhh!”

“Damn,” Jonathan huffed out, staring at her. “You have it bad for both of them.”

“But I can’t love two people at once!” she exclaimed, getting shushed by other students. She paid them no mind, head racing on what she should do.

“Who says?” Jonathan asked, and she paused to think about it. “There's no rule saying you have to like one person at the time,” he continued when she didn’t answer. “Now the question is who are you going to pick? Bruce or Harley?”

“What if they both don’t love me?” she whispered, lifting her head up slightly. “What if it’s all in my head and they laugh if I tell them?”

“I don’t know about Bruce, but Harley won’t,” he answered, going back to his homework, “trust me.”

She spent the next week pondering over her conversations with Harley and Jonathan. And there were a few things she’s discovered.

She’s bisexual.

She’s really bad at feelings and seeing them for what they are. Though this wasn’t anything new, still she hated that she needed help when it comes to emotions.

If she did choose Bruce over Harley, it wouldn’t have worked out. Not only because of him being Batman, but because she didn’t see it as a long term relationship. And she didn’t want that.

And if she chose Harley over Bruce, she didn’t want to make Harley feel like she was second pick. She didn’t want that either.

By the weekend, she still doesn’t know what to do.

Sighing, she fell on her bed. She stared at the ceilings and groaned, pressing her palms to her eyes. “Why is this hard?”

“I don’t know pumpkin, maybe I can help?” Harley suggested, startling her. She sat up quickly and turned to see Harley leaning against the doorframe.

“Help me with what?” she asked, nervously laughing. Harley smiled and walked further in the room.

“Whatever you’re having trouble with,” Harley answered.

She sighed and fell onto the bed again, she took a pillow and hugged it to her chest. “I don’t think this is something you can help with,” she mumbled, closing her eyes.

She felt the bed dip, and felt Harley shift around until she stopped. “I could listen to you rant about it?”

She hummed, but shook her head. “It’s something I need to figure out.”

Silence fell around them as she thought. Harley brought her hand over her face and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. She tensed at the sudden touch, but soon relaxed into it.

“Does it have something to do with what you and Jonathan were talking about last week?” Harley asked after a moment.

Her eyes flew open and she stared at Harley, panicking a little. If Harley knew, there’s nothing she could say that wouldn’t be a lie.

“But I…did he tell you?” she asked, Harley nodded. She groaned and stuffed her face into the mattress. “Damnit.”

Harley giggled and slowly moved her face so they could look at each other. “If it helps any, I love you too.”

She flushed, and looked anywhere but Harley. “But I don’t want to make you feel like a second choice. I don’t want you to resent me because you know I love Bruce too.”

“Hey I won’t,” Harley reassured. Biting her lip, she shook her head. Harley sighed, and moved to press her forehead against hers. “Can I tell you a secret? I loved you before I knew you loved Bruce, and I still love you knowing that. I just hope you can give me a chance.”

She studied Harley for a moment before closing the distance and kissed her.

——

“Ew! Mom! Gross! We don’t need to hear about that!” Dick interrupted. She looked up to see her boys looking at her in disgust. Jason and Tim gagged mockingly as Dick shuddered.

“What? It was just a kiss,” she answered, amused.

“Yeah but you kissed Harley. And that means you’ve done more than kissing,” Jason said.

“You knew this when your father told you I was engaged to her.”

“It’s one thing thinking about it, it’s a whole different thing to hear it from you, Mom,” Tim said, leaning back into his chair.

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Shrugging, she picked up her glass and took a sip.

“So Harley figured out you loved me before you did? And this after meeting me once,” Bruce asked, amused. She felt her cheeks burn and looked away.

“Wasn’t my proudest moment, but yes she did,” she said with a shrug.

“And she was okay with it?”

She nodded, smiling a little at the memory. “Yeah. She didn’t seem to mind too much about it. But I didn’t spend too much time being hung up on Bruce. I was too busy with Har-”

“Ma!” Jason exclaimed, stopping her from finishing the sentence.

“I wasn’t even going to say anything bad!” she defended.

“You went to school with Crane?” Damian asked. She turned her attention to the youngest and nodded.

“We had a few classes together, and Harley just sort of adopted him into the friend group,” she mused.

“What I can’t get over, is the fact that Crane had to tell you about your feelings for Harley,” Dick put out.

“Like I said, I have a hard time deciphering emotions. Especially when it comes to romantic feelings. But once I know, then I’m okay.”

“How long were you together before getting engaged?” Damian asked, though it was still hard to believe his mother had someone before Bruce.

“And who popped the question?”

She looked at the clock and back to the boys. “Doesn't the patrol start soon?” she asked. The boys looked at Bruce with their best puppy eyes. Well, Dick, Jason and Tim did, Damian seemed indifferent but Bruce could tell he wanted to hear the story as well.

“If it’s okay with your mother, we can listen to one more story,” he said, and she raised an eyebrow at her husband. “What?”

“And I thought I couldn’t say no,” she said with a mumble.

“Shut up,” he said, but smiled slightly.

“So Ma, what’s the story?”

Her hand went up to her necklace and started playing with it as she thought back. “We’ve been together for almost eight years before I asked her.”

——

She fell on the couch once she got home from the hospital. It had been a taxing day, and all she wanted to do was curl up with Harley and sleep until the morning. But they had dinner plans they needed to get to, and if everything turned out as planned, she and Harley would be engaged.

Over the years of dating, conversation of marriage would come up. Whether it be just then asking about it, or their friends. They both wanted it, but they silently agreed that they wouldn’t take it seriously until they both finished school.

Harley had already finished her last year of residency, and she was one you last year. Granted, she still had a month left, but she figured it would still count.

“Pumpkin, I’m home,” Harley called as she walked in.

“Living room,” she answered back. A moment later, Harley walked in the room and plopped beside her. Harley laid her head on her lap and sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair. “Tiring day?”

Harley nodded and closed her eyes. “I know we had plans to go out, but can we stay in? Arkham really took me out.”

She scrunched her nose, her hands stopped moving. “I thought you didn’t start there until next week?”

“I did, but something happened with the inmates,” Harley answered.

“And they needed a psychiatrist?”

“Apparently some of the inmates needed help and they couldn’t wait until next week,” Harley said, and sighed happily when she resumed playing with Harley’s hair. “So can we stay in?”

“Yeah, we can. We can order take out and watch a movie or something,” she mused, trying to think of a new plan. “What do you want?”

“Chinese.”

She smiled and reached over, grabbing her phone and ordering food. Once finished, she set the phone before turning back to Harley. She stared at her loving, watching as Harley was slowly falling asleep.

“You’re staring,” Harley mumbled with a smile.

“I can’t help, you’re just too gorgeous to look at anything else,” she teased. Harley blushed and snuggled into her legs.

“Shut up.”

Thinking it’s the perfect time, she went for it. “Marry me?” Harley’s eyes flew open, and she quickly sat down and looked at her.

“What?”

“Marry me,” she repeated, smiling at the bewildered look Harley was giving her. “I know we talked about it a few times. And since I have a month left of residency, I figured why not. So, marry me?”

Harley looked at her for a minute before smiling widely, and threw her arms around her, laughing. “Of course I will, pumpkin!” Harley said, kissing her all over her face.

And just like that they were engaged.

As the months went by, they planned a wedding. They had decided who was going to be in the wedding party, where the venue would be, and who was going to cater for them. They just needed to book everything, but they weren’t going to do so until they picked out the wedding day.

And for a while everything was perfect. Up until Harley started seeing Joker as a patient. She didn’t see it, not a first. She took it as Harley having bad days or long tiring days at Arkham. And with doctor patient confidentiality, Harley couldn’t talk about their problems.

But Harley could tell her how the day went. If it was bad, she’d drop it and offer to make Harley's favourite foods.

Then Harley started to become distant. She would come home later than normal, and would snap for no reason. She had tried to get Harley to talk to her, but she wouldn’t. She kept saying she was fine and it had been a long day. It was worrying.

All at once, it stopped. Harley stopped talking to her, and stopped coming home.

She was out of her mind, worrying for Harley. She hoped her fiancée would come home. It was to the point that she went out and looked for Harley.

But Bruce had stopped her before she could leave the apartment.

She had found him waiting in her living room after a long shift at the hospital. It had startled her seeing Bruce dressed as Batman standing there, he cowl down.

She was about to greet him, but the sad, pitied expression Bruce had stopped her. “No, don’t…don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step forward, she stepped back. “But something happened to Harley.”

She shook her head frantically, covering her mouth with her hands. “Nononono, she can’t have…please,” she begged, as Bruce wrapped her into a hug when he was close enough.

“I’m sorry, but Joker got into her head,” he started, tightening his grip as she choked back a sob. “Convinced her that they were meant for each other. Made her fall in the chemicals he fell into. She’s alive, but she isn’t Harley anymore. Not the one you knew anyways.”

She broke down crying before Bruce finished his sentence. She clung to him like a lifeline as the words sunk in.

She expected to hear that Harley died, that someone had killed her. Not this. But this? This was so much worse.

——

A heavy silence fell once she finished. She was clutching the ring that was threaded on a chain. It helped keep the tears at bay. She didn’t want to cry, not now, not after so many years.

“The next day, Bruce told me the full story,” she whispered, and grimaced as the fight flashed before her. “We fought. Okay, I yelled and he just took him. I said some things I shouldn’t have and I avoided him for a while.”

“I remember that,” Dick said, leaning onto the table. “Bruce looked heartbroken during that time. And every time I tried to ask what happened, he shut me down. Even at gala’s when you were there, he looked like he wanted to go and talk to you.”

Bruce looked at him in surprise. Dick was only eight when that happened, he didn’t think he was paying attention.

On the other hand, she felt guilt crawling in her stomach, and slouched into her chair. She hid her face in her hands when Dick continued.

“That falling out thing happened for a few years, didn’t it?” he asked. She opted to stay quiet, letting Bruce answer the question.

“Three or four years, yeah.”

Tim was about to ask what had happened, but Jason nudged him and shook his head. Tim gave him a look, and Jason gestured to their mom, practically saying I don’t think she wants to talk about it.

“Sorry for bringing up the past Ummi,” Damian said softly. “We didn’t know.”

Rubbing her face to get rid of stray tears, she dropped her hands onto the table. “That’s okay sweetie. I wouldn’t have told you anything if it still hurts.”

“So, how’d you fix your friendship with Bruce?” Jason asked. She shook her head and stood.

“Bruce can tell you,” she said, stretching, “I have the night shift tonight. And I need to get ready.”

With that she left her boys staring at Bruce, waiting.

“It’s time for patrol,” he gruffed out and followed his wife. The boys groaned, saying that wasn’t fair.

“Are you okay?” he asked when he reached their bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe, watching her quickly change and grabbed her stuff before pausing. She clutched her keys and sighed.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” she sighed, dropping her shoulders. “After ten years, it still hurts. Not as much as it did, but still.”

Bruce nodded, and pushed off the frame and wrapped his arms around her. Holding her close. “I’m sorry again for everything.”

“You know I don’t blame you anymore, you don’t need to apologize for it.”

“Feels like I have too. You don’t deserve to have gone through that.”

“No one does but life sucks that way,” she said, giving him a smile. “I have to go.”

Bruce frowned, tightening his hold a little. “I wish you didn’t.”

“I’m a doctor Bruce, but I’ll be careful,” she said, reaching up to kiss him. “You be careful too tonight.” He nodded and dropped his arms and watched as she left the room.

“I love you,” he called. She popped her head back in and smiled.

“I love you too.”

Running out of the manor and to her car, she didn’t notice a figure standing in the distance. Harley signed as she watched, glad that her ex-lover found happiness again. And promised she’d do whatever it took to keep it that way.