#Oh yeah and I finally found sheet sticker paper! Why was it so hard to find just normal sheets??? Well whatever I have now so it's fine

[sysig]

Today: Teeth hurt, batteries are sold exorbitantly but only in person, and I think I have Tamagotchis now

[sunflowerstache]

Lifespan

A/N: Hello! This is very different from most of my writing, not only because its an OC, but because the storyline is just something out of my comfort zone. But I really hope you enjoy it(: I got the inspiration from a ad I saw on Facebook a long time ago lmao but yeah, come say hi once you’ve read it and tell me what you think! It’s much appreciated! I love you all so very much! Also hugeeeee shoutout to @devil-in-bw-the-sheets​ for spending like six months reading and re-reading this every single time I rewrote it and changed things and encouraging me each time! And @emotionally-imbruised​ for beta reading it for me!💛💛

Word Count: 7.3k

“Doll?”

The fog that seemed to have settled over your mind instantly melted away upon hearing the barista’s voice, her sweet drawl grounding your focus back on her. She was an older woman, probably nearing her sixties based on the collection of grey hairs scattered throughout her small ponytail. But still so incredibly full of life. She had red glasses perched atop her nose - which perfectly completed the red polka dots covering her black dress - a beaded chain dangling from the end to the front of the frame, a pair of silver peace sign studs resided in her ears, and the anatomically correct symbol for caffeine dangled in necklace form on her chest.

“What? I’m sorry.”

“Just asked if you wanted the cream on that.” She smiled, thin lines spreading out and away from the sides of her eyes as her mouth widened. Upon glancing down quickly, you took notice of her clearly hand drawn name tag filled with swirling letters - different then when you stopped by earlier in the week when she had used stickers to spell out “Rita”.

“Oh, um yeah sure. Why not.”

“My husband always says that during weather like this, the calories don’t count. That they disappear with your shivering. Can I just have your name, dear?”

“Georgie. And your husband sounds like a very smart man.”

“Oh, he is.” A dreamy look took over Rita’s features, like just thinking about the man made her heart race. “Been together for forty-two years and he still teaches me new things.”

Your heart ached with each word; the fog slowly started to creep back through your mind while you watched her grin fondly. The hope and excitement for the future that was always so very clear in people’s eyes was what made it so hard not to explain everything you knew, every secret you held. However, as much as you wanted to urge everyone to live the life they’ve always wanted, you knew there was a natural balance to life, and opening your mouth would undoubtedly throw that balance off. So instead, you grinned and nodded your head.

“He sounds wonderful.”

“My best friend. Counting down the minutes until the end of my shift. We’re heading up to see our grandbabies for the week.” It was like she knew exactly what kind of secret you were keeping and made sure to hit you where it hurt each time she opened her mouth. As if her being impossibly sweet didn’t hurt enough.

“That sounds nice.” Digging around in your bag for your wallet made it much easier not to focus on the ticking time bomb in front of you. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh my! I’m sorry, I know I can’t talk forever if no one stops me.” her laugh was soft, inviting, one you would love to listen to while storytelling. “It’s four pounds.”

“You can keep the change.” You said when handing her some cash, but stopped yourself before you turned to walk away. Even if you weren’t ever going to outright explain anything to anyone, slipping in tiny, reassuring comments made you feel at least a little better before parting ways. “Have an amazing night with your family Rita.”

The coffee shop was relatively empty at the hours you stopped by. Other than the same group of men that were there every morning, chatting over the newspaper and a black coffee and a young nurse who was just getting off of her night shift, only customers on their way to work stopped by. But that was just how you preferred it. It was much easier to avoid running into people when the sun had barely just peeked over the morning horizon. You suppose the city isn’t exactly the best place to reside when you’re on a mission not to get close to anyone, but you’d much preferred the hustle and bustle of the city than the silence of the countryside. At least here you were able to escape your thoughts when they got to be too much, out there you were left to drown in the weights you held.

Rita was right when she said the weather would bring shivering. The moment you stepped through the café doors, all sense of warmth you previously had was sucked out of you, leaving the tips of your fingers tingling against the warm cup. You hadn’t ever really gotten to know the woman behind the counter, a few kind greetings every now and again, but she seemed to be someone who brought a lot of joy to those around her. And she always put extra chocolate curls on your drink. You made a mental note to send some flowers to her family within the coming days.

It was a car horn that initially took your attention off of the pavement, turning to look for who was in such a rush at 5:30am, but the hard torso smacking into her shoulder is what brought your attention back. Followed by the searing heat of your hot chocolate spilling down your front.

“Oh fuck!” you yelled, immediately dropping the paper cup and trying to pull your shirt away from your body to decrease the chance of a burn. There goes your chance to get home and drive right to work without any issue.

“Oh my god! Oh shit!” the man that had ran into you gasped, stopping in his tracks and grabbing onto your elbow to steady your wild movements.

Even though his words were quite loud on the empty street, his voice was still husky, almost like he wasn’t awake yet and still had some left over sleep in his throat. And when you turned to look at who had ruined your shirt, your own voice got stuck in your throat. He was tall, which made sense considering your head had bounced right off of his chest. He was wearing black basketball shorts with tall white socks and a light grey hoodie, which was pulled up to cover the dark grey beanie resting on his head. With one hand he was holding a water bottle with ease, while the other was frantically pulling the airpod from his ear. But apart from his sheer stature, you couldn’t ignore how beautiful this man was. How even the worry lines littering his face were perfectly accenting his features. Or how the green of his eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim light of the Whole Foods you had been stopped in front of.

“I’m so sorry! Shit are you okay?” he quickly asked, shaking his head before you could even respond. “Obviously not, that was probably hot. Oh god I’m so sorry!”

Finally getting your bearings back, you couldn’t help but nod. “Yeah it was pretty hot.”

“Shit, I don’t even know how that happened. I must’ve taken my eyes off the pavement for one second. I’m so sorry.”

“So you’ve said.” You chuckled, bending down to pick up your now empty cup at your feet and tossing it in the bin by your side. “Don’t worry about it. Really it’s fine.”

“It’s not, I’ve ruined your shirt.” If the disappointment in his voice wasn’t evident enough, the small pout on his lips definitely was. He looked absolutely distraught at the sight of what he’d done. “Let me at least get you a new drink. It’s the least I could do.”

“Oh, um, that’s alright.” You’d always known it was rude to speak to someone and not give them eye contact, it was something your father had drilled into you as a child, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Looking someone in the eyes meant seeing above their head, and that was an area you actively tried to avoid looking. But there was something about him that drew you in, and you couldn’t help glancing up at him quickly again. “I actually have to be getting to work. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? I feel terrible.”

“Positive. Have a good morning.” Your touch was soft on his arm as you made your way past him, leaving the mystery man standing on the pavement staring as you walked towards your flat.

You didn’t mean to be so short with him, but it’s just how you’d grown accustomed to living life. It was the easiest way you found not to get close to many people, which meant less hurt in the end. And you’d been around enough hurt in your short twenty three years. It may be a lonely life, but you were happy with your cat, comically named Lucifer, and living a simple life. Sure, there were times you wished you could live the carefree life everyone around you got to experience, your only issues being stresses of work or relationship drama, but that wasn’t who you were. After living the life you did, there’d be no way you could live a normal life.

“Don’t give me that look, Luci.” you grumbled when walking through your front door, your cat perched on the dining table just watching as you moved through the living room, ripping your destroyed shirt from your body. “This wasn’t my fault.”

You’re sure that you looked like a crazy person if anyone was watching on, talking to your cat while walking around your flat in nothing but a pair of black slacks and a bra. But you didn’t care, because this was your normal. You ranted to her after a long day at work or a particularly draining day, and she always sat and listened. Mostly because she was a cat.

“He just ran right into me, like he literally couldn’t see me. How odd, right?” you stopped briefly while searching your closet for a new shirt. “God Luci, he was cute though. So cute. And tall.”

Just because you secluded yourself in the world didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy taking a peak at what it had to offer. It was the forming relationships that put you off, not because there was a level of uncertainty - nothing was uncertain to you - but because you always knew the timeline of said relationships. It was always the same. So why put yourself through it? But also, why not? What if that was just what you needed to make such a painful existence a little more bearable?

“I didn’t even get his name. Maybe I’ll see him around the cafe sometime.” you hummed, throwing the new peach colored blouse over your head and peeking your face out of the hole. “No. No Georgie, don’t go there. Who are we kidding, it’s not like anything could ever happen anyway.”

Lucifer meows loudly at your comment., making you turn around to glare at her. Obviously she didn’t know what was actually going on, but it was nice to entertain the idea of someone listening to your problems and helping you talk them out. You were a secluded young woman, not crazy.

“What? Like I’m wrong? It’s not something I’d be able to keep from a boyfriend forever. And It’s not like I’d be able to just flat out tell them.”

She meowed again, jumping off the table and prancing her way to your feet, rubbing her side against your ankles.

“What would I even say? Hey, I was born with this thing where I can see a floating clock above everyone’s head that literally counts down to the day you die? Yeah because that won’t get me sent to the looney bin.”

From the start of time, there has always been a beginning and an end to everything. No matter if it was an Oscar award winning film, delicate relationships, or even life itself, it all ended. People come, and they go, but the world continues on; taking care of those who stay to see another day. And on a daily basis, the idea of the end rarely floats through anyone’s mind. Except for you.

For you, it was impossible not to think about when it was quite literally staring you in the face. For as long as you could remember, you walked through life with a different outlook on the end than most other people.It wasn’t because you had some near death experience, but due to a gift. Or at least what some people in the world would consider a gift, because in no way would you call being able to see the exact day someone is going to die, a gift.

It was something that over the years you had grown to ignore, trying not to look too far away from people’s eyes and never thinking too hard about the ticking numbers.They weren’t obnoxious or flashy signs hanging above everyone’s heads - like you had seen some films try and depict - but instead, just a simple, faint, white clock just above the tops of everyone’s head, showing each individual’s lifespan. No matter how many hours you sat down and tried to rationalize why you were able to see this, there was never any answer. No one else in your family carried the burden, and because of that, you never mentioned it to anyone in fear of sounding crazy. But you knew you weren’t crazy, not when you prayed night after night for those numbers to disappear or for someone’s clock to be wrong, only to be let down.

You knew you weren’t crazy when you finally saw your favorite florist Don after he spent some time away, and his clock suddenly read 3 years, 20 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes, and 6 seconds instead of the 27 years you had grown used to seeing on him every day before he left. It didn’t take long for you to find out he was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer and treatments had stopped working.

You knew you weren’t crazy when you got to watch Kim’s clock - the very sweet receptionist at your job - begin to slow down the more she adjusted to a healthy lifestyle of eating right and taking care of her body. What was once a ticking time of a measly 21 years adjusted what would be a long and fulfilled 59 years more.

And you knew you weren’t crazy when at only seventeen years old, you watched as your best friend’s clock suddenly dwindled down to zero’s across the board like a slot machine while laying on the bathroom floor of a house party. The drugs in her system being too much for her young body to handle and completely consuming the 72 years she once had left.

You weren’t crazy, you just carried a burden no one should ever have. And because of it, you made sure not to get close to anyone in fear of watching yet another clock strike zero.

So you moved on with your life, forgetting all about the tall man who had spilled your drink and run into your mind, making you think things you hadn’t in so long, and instead, focused solely on getting through your days at work and getting back home. It was an easy routine, one you hadn’t strayed from much since moving to the city six years ago; wake up, feed Luci, get coffee, go to work, go home, shower, watch tv, go to bed. And as happy as you were that life wasn’t so painful these days, boring would be the only word good enough to describe your life.

Until your neighbors moved in.

You were standing in the kitchen, lifting the collar up to your mouth to try and quickly lick the hot sauce off the old, ratty Elton John Tour shirt you were wearing before it left a stain, wearing nothing else but some shorts, a nice pair of cheetah print slippers to cover your chilly toes, and one of the two hundred paper face masks you’d ordered off of Amazon in an attempt to clear your skin, when the loud bang on your front door startled you. Not only did your family not live in town, but your neighbors knew that you weren’t a people person. Ever since you made that very clear to them upon moving in, they hadn’t tried to contact you, so you just assumed whoever it was had gotten the wrong flat number.

But the knocking persisted.

Lucifer’s head had picked up from her lap upon hearing the first knock, now watching as you made our way closer to the front door. “What do I do?” but the only response you received was her head tilting to the right, like she was saying ‘Really? Answer it you idiot.’

You wanted to be angry, you really did, because you were nearly ready to be completely settled in for the night after a terribly long day and you just wanted to watch some bad tv with Luci, but the moment you twisted the door knob and peered into the hallway, any anger you had felt, completely washed away.

“Hey! Sorry, my mates and I-” he abruptly stopped mid sentence once his eyes landed on you, like his train of thought literally face planted into a brick wall. A look of realization flashed across his face quickly, and in a matter of milliseconds, what was once stress turned into a look of excitement. “Hey! It’s you!” he smiled.

“It’s me.” something about him made it very difficult for you not to mirror his smile, but that desire was overpowered by the confusion coursing through your mind.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again! I still feel terrible about what happened, are you sure you were alright? You didn’t burn yourself, did you?” The man was incredible at changing his emotions at the drop of a dime, for now his eyes were laced with concern where excitement had just lived. “Or I guess I should say I didn’t burn you, did I?”

He was much more put together this time, the workout attire you had last seen him in was traded in for a pair of light red slacks that looked to be a crushed velvet material paired with a plain white t-shirt and a pair of black vans. He looked like any university boy you’d see walking the streets, but at the same time, like nothing you had ever seen before. Something about him standing in your doorway brought you a sense of calm, like just his presence was enough to wash away the stresses of your day.

“I mean I can’t say that it felt particularly good, but I didn’t get burned, no.”

“Oh good. That’s good.” he nodded, and you made the mistake of following his hand with your eyes as he lifted it up to his curls to fix the glasses perched on his head. You didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see what kind of fate the universe had in store for him because the peace he had brought to you in the few moments he’d been standing there felt better than anything had in the past few years. But you were never that lucky.

Your eyes quickly casted back down, looking back at the white of his shirt while you cleared your throat. “Did you need something….” you dragged out the end of the word to indicate that you didn’t know what to call him since he hadn’t bothered to mention his name.

“Oh, right. ‘M Harry.”

“Georgie.

“Hello Georgie.” if possible, the grin on his face doubled in size, causing two dimples to appear at the corners and the air in your chest to feel as though it was tightening.

The two of you stood in your doorway without saying anything for another moment before you spoke up; “So did you need something or…”

“Fuck, yeah.” his voice was breathy when he responded, standing up straighter, “My mates and I just saw you come home and we’re in desperate need of a needle and thread. You’ve got one?”

It only took a second for him to realize his words and that surprised look from when you first opened the door was back. His eyes widened and his hands raised in front of him as a way to stop you before you could respond.

“Not in a creepy way! We weren’t like watching you or summat, swear! My mates Niall and Louis just moved in across the hall.” using his thumb he pointed to the open door across the hall where you could see two other guys watching yours and Harry’s interaction. Upon realizing they were spotted, they raised their hands in a small wave. “We heard you come in. Not that we were actively listening! Just - ‘m sorry. I swear we aren’t creeps.”

“Good. Thought I’d have to sic my monster of a dog on you.” you replied, turning to dig through the small table in what could barely be considered an entryway. The table had started out as a place to keep your keys and mail, but like most did, quickly turned into a junk drawer. An abyss to put any and everything only to never see it again.

Harry’s eyes frantically looked behind you like some crazy monster was about to lunge at him for bothering you at night, even going as far as taking a small step back when the door opened a bit wider while you were looking for the tool. You laughed when glancing up quickly at the movement. It was obvious he was panicking at the new information of potentially getting mauled by a massive dog while simply asking for thread. So you put him out of his misery.

“There’s no dog. I’m just joking…”

As if on cue, Lucifer waltzed up to see what was going on at the front door, her small body weaving between your legs to get a nice scratch while checking out the never before seen man. “Oh! A cat! I love cats!”

“Yeah she’s pretty great.” you nodded, closing the drawer and holding your hand out to Harry. “Here you go. Um, not sure what colour you need so you can just take the whole bag.”

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you! Niall has a date in ten minutes and he’s split his only good pair of trousers.” he turned his head to look over his shoulder at the boys inside the other flat, trying to seem like they weren’t listening to the conversation, but very obviously doing just that. “Have to sew him in like ‘m some sort of tailor.” he chuckled, turning back to face you.

“Sounds like an exciting night.”

“Oh riveting. I would ask if you’d like to join but you look very busy-” the corners of his lips were trying hard not to curl upwards with the light sarcasm, wobbling a bit as he continued speaking, “-so I wouldn’t want to interrupt anymore than I already have. I’m sure I’ll see you again, I practically live with these two idiots.”

“‘M sure I will.” Luci hadn’t left your side since joining you at the door, instead, she began meowing quite loudly, so you bent down to scoop her into your arms.

You liked Harry, not only because he was a very obviously a good looking man, but because he seemed to pick up on your social cues fairly quickly. He didn’t linger and try to get as much out of you as possible or make the fact that you clearly didn’t have much interest in talking uncomfortable. And it was the first time in a long time that you felt content being around someone. Not fearing what the future brought.

Harry halted his movements halfway between flats and spun back around quickly. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you press kisses to Lucifer’s head while standing in the doorway. Something you gathered from the very brief times you’d shared an encounter was that Harry was not very good at hiding his emotions. It was almost like he had no control of his mouth, because you could see him try to stop the smile from spreading, but it was no use. The dimples popped out in full force.

“I still owe you for that coffee.”

“Oh, um not a coffee.”  you tried not to be loud enough for him to hear, noting that the fact that it wasn’t a coffee was not really that important, but he heard you anyway.

“Pardon?”

“Just um, it wasn’t a coffee. More of a hot chocolate drinker actually.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead just continued watching you with fond eyes and a now very prominent smile. You felt as though he could sense how out of touch with relationships you had begun to get over the years. What other explanation could he have for being so soft with someone he had just met and barely even known

“Right, well keep your schedule open so I can take you out for that replacement cocoa.”

Your door swiftly closed the second he turned back around, not leaving any extra seconds for him to turn around and look at you again. And the second she heard the click of the lock, Luci leaped out of your arms and made her way over to the sofa, meowing her entire journey.

“Yes that was him.” another meow. “I told you he was cute, and I also told you nothing would be happening there.”

Harry wasn’t lying when he said you’d be seeing him again. It seemed as though every day when you got back to your flat, he was there. Sometimes on his way out, other times just standing outside the door waiting for the other boys. And despite how at peace being around Harry had made you feel that day he came knocking at your door, you never put in much more effort than a “hello” here and there. He and the others had tried quite a few times to get you to join them on their night out, but each time you came up with a different excuse. Even if they were comforting, what was the point in forming that friendship when you knew you’d just isolate yourself again eventually. You had made it this long without getting too close to anyone else, and you weren’t going to start just because two attractive lads moved in across the hall who happened to have a very fit, very inviting, friend.

It wasn’t until nearly a month later that you actually had a full conversation with Harry again.

Typically you tried not to go to the coffee shop by your flat any later than lunchtime because it just got too busy. There were too many people for you to fully avoid them all and seeing too many clocks dampened your mood significantly. But you had already had a shitty morning and needed something to give you a boost.

The place had felt very melancholy since Rita’s unfortunate passing last month, she’d passed peacefully in her sleep while spending time with her family. You’d sent the family flowers as remembered, and also made sure to drop a few bills in the jar on the counter each time you’d been in the shop. Other employees were setting up a fund for Rita’s family since she was such a loved member of the community just with the joy she brought from behind the counter.

“Just a large hot chocolate for me, please.”

“For here or take away?”

“Take away please.”

“Actually she’ll have that for here, please.” a familiar voice behind you spoke up as you were digging through your bag for your wallet. You could see him out of the corner of your eye move from his spot behind you, to gradually standing next to you, looking directly at the barista behind the counter.

“Um..” you felt bad for the young kid, he couldn’t be any older than eighteen and all he wanted to do was get to work and get out. But here you were making his day more stressful than it needed to be. “So… for here then?”

“Harry I -”

“Come on Georgie. Please.” never in your life had you seen a grown man bat his eyelashes, but here he was, trying to lure you in with his breathtaking green eyes.

“Fine.” your voice came out soft and you rolled your eyes, but on the inside you felt giddy, like what you remember life to feel like before you started isolating yourself. “Um, sorry. I’ll have it for here I suppose.”

“Do you want the cream?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, I’ll have a -” Harry’s profile was something you could get lost in. How the tip of his nose seemed to bounce with every word he said, how it looked as if his lips were made to form the words falling from between them, or how no matter how many times he tried to get it to stay back, one of his curls would continue to break loose from the rest and fall past his forehead. From what little you’ve seen of it, Harry had a great sense of fashion. Comfortable. A brown teddy bear jumper was covering his upper body, sleeves long enough to gather just past his hands and torso short enough that you could see his white shirt peeking out from underneath, ripped black jeans, a pair of black chelsea boots, and  those same tortoise shell glasses perched on his nose completed his look.  

“Ready?”

“Huh?”

“You ready? ‘ve got a table back by the door.”

The two of you made your move to walk back towards the front of the shop, but you halted in your tracks when you saw that yes, he in fact did have a table waiting for him, but it was also being inhabited by the two boys you had seen behind him when he came to ask for thread. Neal and Liam? And a girl was sitting between the two as they chatted amongst themselves.

“Harry I don’t -”

“Come on, I promise we don’t bite.” Apparently you still didn’t look convinced because he leaned down to be at your eye level and stuck his lip out in a pout. “One drink. Please? I owe you remember?”

“Yes and you’ve already bought me a new one, thank you by the way, so you don’t owe me anything else.”

“I know.” the apples of his cheeks began getting pinker the longer he stared at you, “But I’d very much like to spend some time with you.”

Just like he did when he knocked on your door, his eyes widened and immediately seemed to want to backtrack what he had said. “Wait no, not in that way. In like a ‘hey I think you’re cute -’ no fuck that’s not -”

“Harry.”

“Yes?”

“One drink.”

The relief was instant on his features, his shoulders sagging and eyebrows un-furrowing at your words. “Good. Afraid my mates were going to start thinking I made you up.”

“I live across the hall, they’ve seen me.”

“Well yeah, but I talk about you so much they thi- I - fuck.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from between your lips. You may not have had many friendships or relationships of any kind, but you did know excessive rattling wasn't generally how people spoke to one another.  “You babble a lot.”

“Only when ‘m nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?”

Harry wasted no time in his response, taking a quick glance over to you. “Because I finally get to spend time with the pretty girl across the hall.”

The heat rushing to your cheeks had become something of a common occurrence when speaking with Harry. It wasn’t obvious if he knew what he was doing or not, but you couldn’t imagine someone like Harry not knowing how to flirt. Thankfully, however, someone from the table spoke up before you could dwell on his comment longer than necessary.

“Finally!” the man sitting at the end of the booth spoke. He was dressed very similar to Harry in color - a tan quilted shirt was hidden beneath a cream colored teddy bear jacket, and pleated brown trousers. The light facial hair stubbled along his cheeks made him look slightly older than Harry, but his complete baby face counteracted that.

Harry looked at you briefly, raising his eyebrows with a ‘what did I tell you?’ kind of look as he bent down to slide into the booth next to the other man. His style was much different than the other two, more streetwear. He was wearing black trackies and an old gray band tee under a denim jacket, baseball hat and the very apparent smell of cigarettes finishing off the outfit. Another difference with him was that he had a girl with him. What you assumed to be his girlfriend by the way her head was resting on his shoulder and his hand fell on her knee. She was beautiful, long brown hair fell loose around her shoulders, only kept back by the fragile looking sunnies that rested at the top of her head. She was wearing a simple white top and a pair of white,black, and brown plaid trousers, both of which were overshadowed by the beautiful black Balenciaga jacket hanging off of her shoulders.

“Was starting to think you’d been lying about actually knowing her, Haz.” the one closest to Harry spoke, earning a light slap to his chest from the girl on his shoulder.

Harry disregarded all of their antics and turned to pat the seat next to him, indicating he wanted you to sit down, and he gave you a reassuring nod when you nibbled your lower lip between your teeth.

It was subtle acts like Harry letting you sit on the outside of the booth so you could make a quick getaway if needed that reminded you how easily he seemed to pick up on your social cues - even if you didn’t realize you did them. It made your chest tickle that even just from the two substantial conversations you’d had with him, Harry picked up on things you did.

“Piss off.” Harry chuckled, reminding you a lot of friendships you’d seen on tv where they all take the piss but it was easy to see that they all cared for one another. It was something you’d always been envious of while watching the world from the sidelines. “Georgie, this is Niall, Louis, and Louis’ girlfriend Eleanor. Everyone, this is Georgie.”

You were met with a chorus of hellos and you would’ve loved to just jump right into their conversation about the best places to get guacamole, just so that they knew you weren’t intentionally being rude to them. But not only were you not good at this conversation thing, but you also were still on edge about forming any sort of connection with these people. Apparently you should get used to Harry and his all knowing mind, because before you could excuse yourself from the awkwardness, he spoke up.

“So, how long have you lived in the building?”

Unprepared for the question, you froze for a second. “Oh, um going on six years now.”

“Impossible! What are you, like twenty? No way you’ve lived there that long!” Eleanor asked, her head no longer on Louis’ shoulder, instead she was sitting upright and looking directly at you. Of course, over the span of the years, you had gotten quite good at looking at people without really paying any attention to what was only visible to you above their heads, but it still made you uneasy. The best solution was just not to look at them at all. But these people, people who had no idea who you were a mere ten minutes ago yet were now welcoming you into their lives, made you want to work on avoiding the numbers. Because this was the most alive you’d felt in years.

“‘M twenty three. Be twenty four next Friday.”

“No shit! Alright well I’m coming over so you can teach me your skincare routine because you look flawless.” she gleamed, leaning forward on the table to jot down her phone number on one of the many spare napkins littering the tabletop.

“As much as I love a good skincare routine, let’s not skip over the more important part of that sentence. Your birthday is next week?” Harry asked, gently shoving his shoulder against yours and offering a kind smile when you glanced up at him.

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. I haven’t really celebrated my birthday since I turned like eleven.” your parents used to throw you a party every year while growing up, a lavish over the top kind of party where all of your classmates were invited and family you had never even heard of pinched your cheeks. But as time went on and you didn’t give up your ‘ridiculous fantasy’ as your mother so kindly put it, they began to stop throwing the party. Now, you were lucky if they sent you a card on the day. Plus, celebrating your birthday alone is kind of a downer.

“You haven’t celebrated your birthday in over a decade?” Niall’s mouth hung open like that was the craziest thing he’d ever heard.

“Nope.”

“Well that just won’t do.” you may not know very much about the people seated around you, but the smirk on Louis’ face told you everything you needed to know. “We’re having a party.”

“Um, thank you. Really. But parties aren’t really my thing. Plus I’m working that day so…”

“Oh, where do you work?” Harry asked, thoroughly interested in where you spend most of your days.

“Good Samaritan.”

“The nursing home down on Adams?”

“That’s the one. I’m a caregiver.” when you first applied for the position, you thought you were crazy. For someone who doesn’t want to get close to anyone in fear of their untimely demise, you definitely went for a job exactly the opposite. But that was the appeal to you. Sure, it was terribly sad to see one of your patients pass, but in the time leading up to it, you knew exactly who needed a little extra love. It was nice to be able to remind their loved ones to visit while making routine phone calls, and to do things to make them smile in what only you knew were their last days. It was the only time you thought what you were born with was some kind of gift. The tiniest most unwelcomed gift.

“That’s wonderful.” Harry’s voice was gently next to you, like he was hanging on to every short word that you said.

“Well, we’ll just have a party once you’re done with work.” Louis shrugged, but held his hands up when you opened your mouth to remind him you didn’t want anything. “Not a party, a friendly get together with friendly neighbors and alcohol.”

That day in the cafe was the beginning to a new start for you.

Obviously Lucifer had to hear about everything that happened that afternoon, but she was there to experience it first hand when Eleanor came knocking on your door the following day. She got to watch as you bent over in genuine laughter at your shared banter. She watched from the kitchen counter as Harry came by with food one night, saying he just happened to order extra lo mein and heard you come home. And as the two of you sat in the living room watching Big Brother, talking about everything from your favorite color to why he majored in physical therapy in university. Luci got to watch you break out of the shell you’d worked so hard on forming around you, and even though you knew she couldn’t understand what was happening, you liked to think her frequent meows were those of encouragement.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” The yells came from all corners of the room when you walked into Louis’s flat the following Friday, making your eyes widen and shoulders straighten. As much progress as you’d been making in your life, with branching out and slowly losing your fear of connection, it would take more than a week to crack down those barriers you’d built so high for so long.

“Thank you.” you laughed, putting down the bottle of wine you’d brought just in time for everyone to start surrounding you in hugs.

“Happy Birthday, love.” Harry’s voice was soothing in your ear, like a sense of relief in the overstimulation the other three had given you. You didn’t regret their company like you would have only a month ago, instead you welcomed the foriegn feelings. But it was still nice to have a moment of calm to fully process everything.

“Thank you Harry.”

“I hope it’s not too much. I told them to cool it on the balloons and confetti - especially since we all know I’ll be the one to pick it up in the morning.” he laughed, offering you a glass of wine that everyone else seemed to already be enjoying.

“No, no, it’s great. A nice segway from doing nothing every year.”

“Still can’t believe you haven’t celebrated your birthday in so long! That’s a day that should be celebrated by everyone!”that same look you’d grown to quite enjoy flashed over his features, his momentary distress as he realized he said something he wasn’t planning on sharing. But the look disappeared when he saw your knowing smile. “Don’t start.”

As promised, there was no party, per say. Everyone was just scattered around Louis’ living room telling stories about absolutely nothing that had everyone in stitches. It was the kind of party you’d always been envious of, one where mates could hang out and lose themselves in the company of each other. It was the first time you didn’t have a single thought about impending doom for more than an hour, a feit you would be sure not to forget.

Niall was laid out on the floor under the windows, a half empty bottle of rum in his hand and the other rested on his stomach, occasionally itching an invisible nuisance. Louis was seated in the arm chair directly across from Niall, a very buzzed Eleanor draped across his lap and the more the night went on, the less chances you had of seeing their faces separated. And Harry was seated next to you on the sofa, his arm hung on the back of the cushion in such a way that everyone so often you would feel the very tips of his fingers skim the exposed skin on your shoulder.

You wished you could freeze this moment in time, because a photograph or video would never do it justice. It was almost as if you were watching the night play out in front of you like a movie, not really in your body but watching from afar. Watching as the girl who hid herself from the world began to hatch, slowly cracking the hard exterior surrounding her. And you would do anything to bottle the feeling of pride that swelled in your chest knowing you had achieved that.

“Literally right in the face mate. No joke.” Niall cackled, his laugh a contrast in that moment; escaping his mouth loudly but carrying throughout the room softly. Taking off like a leaf blowing through the fall breeze.

“Georgie.” your name slipped from between Harry’s lips beautifully, like he was created for the sole purpose of saying your name over and over again; forever. “Alright?”

And sitting in the living room of Louis’ flat, listening to your friends’ wine induced giggles, looking at the most captivating pair of green eyes and curly hair that only whatever magical being that was above could’ve created, you were alright. You were so alright that the minuscule ticks of the clocks of your new and only friends, ticks you tried so hard to avoid paying attention to, almost seemed to disappear completely. Almost.

71 years, 2 months, 10 days, 3 hours, 16 minutes, 55 seconds. 68 years, 11 months, 3 days, 19 hours, 43 minutes, 2 seconds. 68 years, 7 months, 21 days, 1 hour, 58 minutes, 33 seconds. 62 years, 8 months, 9 days, 11 hours, 12 minutes, 2 seconds. 2 years, 1 month, 30 days, 23 hours, 34 minutes, 56 seconds.

[writethehousedown]

Lesson In Love (Gigi x Jackie) - Mina

A/N: So excited to participate in one of these challenges again, you treated me so well last time so I’m so excited to release this! Ty so so much to @dollalpaca for being an angel and betaing

Summary: Gigi may or may not be failing her music studies class. She also may or may not have caught feelings for the pretty Persian woman that offered to tutor her. Maybe. She’ll never tell.

“Janet,” Gigi groaned, narrowly avoiding falling off the couch as she rolled over and wrapped her blanket tighter around herself. It was leopard-printed, a gift from Jan to themselves from when they moved into the apartment. “Do you think ‘Intro to Floral Arrangement’ sounds like an easy class? Or do you know anyone who’s taken it?”

“Isn’t it an evening class? I feel like we went over that one like… twenty minutes ago.” The blonde hummed from the floor, not bothering to look up. She was probably right, too. She had her own laptop in front of her, in the process of color-coding her online calendar. Blue for lectures, green for labs and purple for choir practices. Gigi had seen her do this enough times - every semester since they met on move-in day their first year - to be able to recognize the blocks in her schedule at a glance. Sometimes it motivated her knowing that Jan could be so on top of things while also being the most chaotic person Gigi knew, other times it made her want to die and be reborn into someone who could organise her sock draw by diameter.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She frowned, letting out a deep sigh and closing the tab. Goodbye, department of nature studies. So long, her potential florist career.

The thing was, Gigi knew she couldn’t really afford to be particularly picky with only five days before the registration period ended, but still. At least, she thought, she’d long been enrolled in all her textile-related classes for the semester. She was looking forward to most of them too, especially the design ones. Really, it was just that one additional stupid arts gen ed course she needed to get out of the way, and then she’d be free for good.

“How about ‘Art of Listening’?” Gigi asked a few minutes later, reading over the course information. She heard the sound of Jan typing on her keyboard come to a halt. “That kinda sounds like a class for people that want to become therapists or something. Or marriage counsellors?”

“Maybe people that are gonna need marriage counselling, sure,” Jan replied, her typing picking up again.

Gigi laughed, running a hand through her hair and looking back at her screen. “It doesn’t seem too bad, y’know. Just two papers and a final.” She hummed, scrolling through last year’s syllabus. “And it’s actually about music, I could totally do that.”

“Wait, who’s the prof for it?”

“Uh… something-Nguyen I think?“ Gigi paused as she scrolled back up. “Yeah, Andrew Nguyen, why?”

“Oh, that’s the one!” Jan nodded happily. “Rock took it last semester, I think. I remember her talking about it when we first met, she was always complaining about the prof who—”

“Great, you should have just lead with that.” Gigi rolled her eyes as she closed the tab. Rock was one of the more easy going people she’d ever met when it came to that stuff, so she couldn’t imagine what a prof that annoyed her would be like. Probably awful, or at least had a bad taste in anime. A soft but slightly damp piece of fabric hit her in the nose before falling down in front of her, disheartened. She scrunched up her nose in distaste when she realised what Jan just threw at her.

“Why are you throwing your dirty socks at me?” Gigi screeched, picking it up and throwing it back in the blonde’s general direction. “And why is it wet?”

“If you’d just let me finish!” She rolled her eyes pointedly, leaning to grab the sock again. It was a little too far for her to reach, and Gigi watched her stubbornly wiggle to the side until she could close her fingers around it. She smiled victoriously, huffing a little as she leaned back against the couch and made herself stand up straight. “As I was saying,” she started again, enunciating carefully.

“Before I rudely interrupted you.” Gigi grinned down, picking at her nails.

“Yes, before you did indeed do that,” Jan huffed, “Rock took it last semester. And she was always annoyed because the prof didn’t always let them use their laptops in class, but she also said that it was really easy. Most of the time they just had to listen to some music and write about how it made them feel, that sort of stuff.”

“That sounds pretty easy.”

“Right?” Jan nodded excitedly, “And I think she mentioned one of her friends is taking it this semester too. A senior, so she’s probably in the same boat as you.”

Gigi didn’t think that’d make much of a difference, but she didn’t bother telling Jan that. It wasn’t like the class had group projects anyway, so she could hopefully get by with just showing to most lectures and turning in the assignments.

“I really should have done this over the summer, you were right about that,” she exhaled, shutting her laptop and falling back into the couch. She could have gotten those mandatory art electives outside of her major done as a freshmen, or even last year, like most other students in her program did.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,“ Jan chuckled, moving closer until she could rest her head comfortably on Gigi’s shoulder, blonde hair falling all over her face. “You’ll do great, because you always do; you’re talented, but you also work hard. So you’re gonna ace all your actual photography classes, pass this one, and be done with all your dumb degree requirements. And then next year you can take all the textiles classes you want, I’ll take all the music production classes I want, we’ll go to each other’s senior showcases, and barely even remember all the time we wasted on the ugly classes we didn’t care about.”

When Jan put it that way, it sounded pretty easy. *** After three weeks of classes, Gigi felt like she could safely conclude that the class was… Not that bad. If she had to give the class a grade it’d be a solid C-, bordering on a straight-up C. It was mostly filled with freshmen from the arts faculty trying to get an easy A, a solid half of whom had already stopped showing up to lectures. And yes, it was weird being back in a two hundred-person room when most of her other classes were forty at most. She had to turn in weekly written assignments, which was also not fun, but writing five hundred words once a week wasn’t a time commitment she couldn’t handle. The problem, though, was that as far as she could tell from those three first weeks, that supposedly-easy class would also n’ot rate the level of effort Gigi had put in as anything more than a C either. Which was definitely not what she wanted out of it. Far from it.

The class did have one major saving grace, a light in the dark and a minor help in stopping Gigi from quitting the class on day one, in the form of a fellow student.

Gigi didn’t know her name, or her major, or anything tangible about her, which was a little unfortunate. She did, however, know that the girl had legs. Long and strong, with toned thighs that suggested at least some form of semi-regular exercise, and looked equally good in the kind of wide-legged, loose cotton pants Gigi herself favoured as they did in denim cutoffs. She had really nice hands too, which the brunette found out about when they accidentally reached for the same assignment sheet. They looked soft, strong and capable and careful. They’d be nice to hold, or to have holding her down tightly, or tangled in her hair while she sucked bruises into her equally-beautiful thighs.

So yeah, you could say Gigi was kind of enjoying the course, sure.

The girl usually sat at the front of the room, in the very first row from where you kind of had to strain your neck upwards to see what was on the board. Gigi knew, because that was also where she sat during the first two weeks, until she realised this wasn’t going to be the kind of lecture where she could talk all the way through the lesson without the professor caring, not if she wanted to do more than just pass, anyway. The girl usually brought her laptop to class too - covered in political stickers and pictures of cartoons Gigi didn’t know. One time the brunette walked past her, only to see a video of a crab walking up a pile of sand playing in the corner of her screen.

Gigi could remember that she made a point about the role of music in religious movements when prompted, and how that connected to society’s idea of liveliness within places of worship. Gigi didn’t really remember the details, mostly because some of it had just flown way over her head, but their professor had been very impressed. When he had said so, instead of the self-satisfied smile that the brunette had been expecting, the girl had looked down at her notes, one arm twitching like she was resisting the urge to scratch at the back of her neck in embarrassment.

Gigi thought she’d even blushed a little, and really, no one should have had the right to be both this attractive and adorable at the same time. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about the crab video, which was definitely weird, even by art faculty standards. But for her, she thought she might be willing to overlook it.

geege ok this girl at the front of listening class? so hot she’s like 90 percent leg and 40 percent sexy aunt energy

janjanjan sounds Hot

geege i’d let her walk all over me and say ty she’d just be like :] and tell me about the periodic table or smth

janjanjan okay maybe let’s stop there like keep the rest for when you’re alone at home

geege or in the shower

janjanjan thanks not like i use that shower too The thing was, Gigi wasn’t new to having crushes. At all. So perhaps it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to herself that she ended up developing crushes on more than a few of the people she met. Most of them were great, a lot of them were cute, and a few left her heart beating that much faster as she found herself wishing for their conversations to never end.

What was new (or disconcerting, if she were to listen to the Jan voice in her head), was Gigi feeling that way about someone she’d never talked to. Gigi still didn’t know anything about her, other than what she looked like and the sound of her voice - but god did she want to know.

And it felt like it’d been years, so many years, since Gigi had felt too shy to just go up to someone she wanted to know better and introduce herself. She’d felt anxious before, maybe a little self-conscious, but not the kind of shyness that turned into complete inaction. She found herself looking forward to the class, though not the actual work. *** She, Gigi thought, was currently winning at life.

She was done with classes for the week, had no plans that required her to get out of her sweatpants for the next twenty four hours, and was currently sitting back on the couch surrounded by food and two of her favourite people.

So yeah, life was pretty fucking great right now.

She leaned back against one arm of the sofa, a forgotten ball of yarn and half knitted almost-scarf in one hand and the other casually playing with Jan’s hair. The blonde was laying down on the couch, the only one out of the three of them that could kind of do so without most of her legs hanging off one end. Her head was resting on Gigi’s lap while her feet were in Rock’s.

Friday evening was their unofficially -designated group hang out time, a tradition that developed the last few months without any of them being aware of it, but now it was something that she wouldn’t miss for the world. It usually just meant Thai food, bitching about their classes, and whatever booze one of the other two decided to pick up. When Rock made grabby hands at her, Gigi grabbed an unopened can of sparkling water she brought for today and passed it on.

“Thank you,” Rock chuckled as she cracked it open, leaning forward to catch some of the foam that came out before it had a chance to further stain the couch. “Y’know,” she started, as she watched Gigi reach over for the mostly-empty bag of popcorn on the table. “I could just ask Jackie to help you out with the class.”

The brunette’s fingers closed on thin air, the bag of popcorn she was aiming for remaining just out of reach. “Who’s Jackie?” she asked absently, shuffling forward gently and trying not to dislodge Jan’s head from her lap.

Jan flicked her on the thigh regardless. “Rock’s friend, the one I told you about when you signed up! And, y’know, the one that’s also taking the class right now.”

“Oh,” Gigi realised. She totally remembered that, right. Her fingers grazed the bag of popcorn again, but in her haste she just ended up pushing it a few inches further away, balancing precariously on one edge of the table. “That Jackie.”

“I think she tutored, like, half her contemporary fiction class last year. So you know she’s gotta be good at actually teaching things, and not just smart,” Jan continued, as though Gigi’s attention was mostly captured by the pursuit of academics. One more inch, she leaned in a little further, balancing her weight on one arm. She just needed to get one inch closer and the bag would be hers. She could already taste the powdery, buttery, amazingness on her tongue.

“And Rockie’s always talking about how her old professor still basically cries about not being able to convince her to stay in the department. I’m pretty sure she’d totally still take him on as a grad student if Jackie just asked, nevermind that she transferred out more than two years ago.”

“So what do you think?” The blonde finished, a little more loudly, like she realised Gigi had tuned her out a bit. And Gigi had, yes, but she could finally feel her fingers closing in on the bag, triumphantly reaching in and stuffing a handful of popcorn - fat free - into her mouth. “Do you want Rock to ask Jackie when she has some time to meet up with you? Or maybe just give her your number, if that’s easier?”

“What? No, don’t do that. I’m not doing that bad.” Gigi laughed slightly, rolling her eyes. “No, I’m all good.”

“It’s too late anyway,” Rock laughed, all faux-casual. “I already messaged her.” She shoved her phone in front of Gigi’s face, and yeah, right there, that was a message saying just that, complete with her own number at the end.

“Why would you do that?” She complained loudly, tapping at the screen furiously to try and make it delete. It wasn’t that she was against the idea of getting help with the class, but mostly she was reluctant to have it taking up more of her time than it already did. Especially when she didn’t even know the girl.

“You need help!” Rock said with a yelp, avoiding the kick Gigi aimed at her. “She can help! It’s a perfect solution, why are you trying to hit me!” The last one landed just under her armpit, drawing out a higher-pitched squeal. “Besides, Jan agreed with me that it’s a good idea,” she added, turning expectantly towards her. “Tell her how you were the first one to even suggest it.”

Next to them, Jan had indeed been suspiciously quiet. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” Gigi asked, poking the older woman in the chest.

“Don’t you want to see what your soon-to-be tutor looks like, Geege?” Jan giggled, ignoring her question.

“Oh, you’re right, let me show you her insta,” Rock butted in, her thumbs moving on her phone screen for a moment before handing it to Gigi with an evil smile.

Jacqueline Coxx, the profile read, next to a very familiar, grinning face. The same very familiar, grinning face that Gigi had spent many a lesson fawning over. This had to be a mistake, there was no way. “You should really be better at Instagram-stalking people,” Jan laughed as Gigi felt her mind going blank. “I think it’s the only skill that’s going to save our generation from lifelong unemployment. Or underemployment, for that matter.”

The brunette didn’t give it a second thought before she pushed her off the couch and onto the floor, screams of unacceptable betrayal and terrified excitement echoing loud in the room.

*** geege hiiiii is this jackie cox? this is gigi, roxanne’s friend from the listening class she said she’d told you i would message you geege but in case she didn’t i wanted to ask you about some tutoring if you could tutor me i mean geege but if you can’t that’s all good !! don’t feel like you have to say yes just bc of rocks stupid puppy eyes oh and sorry about the triple-text ***

“I more than triple-texted her, but three separate times,” Gigi groaned, burying her face in between the couch cushions.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Jan comforted, running a hand through her hair. Gigi would maybe feel a little bad about how much complaining she’d been doing over this, but everytime she thought of stopping, she reminded herself that Jan was at least forty-five percent to blame for this in the first place.

“It’s been more than two days. When’s the last time you went forty-eight hours without checking your phone? And be honest.”

Jan’s silence was enough of an answer. *** Jackie Hey Gigi! Rock did tell me about you, it’s all good Do you want to meet up after class on monday to figure out the details? Oh and sorry for such a late reply My phone was broken after i dropped it in a lake while i was hiking *** In an ideal world, Gigi would have planned things so she could get to class nice and early on the day she was supposed to properly meet Jackie. She’d have maybe put a little more thought than usual into her outfit, and made sure her hair looked good. Worn that red headband she knew did great things for her forehead and her eyebrows, maybe. Not that Gigi ever looked like a slob, but she definitely had clothes she liked more than others, and that she thought served her better for seduction purposes. Or even for just ‘making a decent first impression’, which she’d really settle for right now, as she ran up the final flight of stairs. Nothing said ‘I’m serious about needing help with this class’ like showing up late, especially for a course where attendance was actually recorded.

She spotted the door to the classroom still cracked open at the end of the hallway and slowed down a little, trying to catch her breath. She ran a hand through her hair, hoping that’d tame the mess a little and her cheeks wouldn’t be too red from the unexpected burst of athleticism. At the front of the room, their professor has already started talking, and Gigi quietly slipped into the first free seat she spotted, grateful to have avoided drawing everyone’s attention to herself.

It was only minutes before the class ended that Gigi thought to look around for Jackie, peering across the middle rows of students before she accepted that she wouldn’t dare sit anywhere but the very front row. She tried to lean forward to glance at the first row once or twice, eventually accepting that there was no way she could be subtle and standing the slightest bit up from her chair. The first row was mostly empty, as it usually tended to be. Gigi recognized a girl from the Image Composition class she took last semester, and thought about saying hi to her after class when she remembered she had a goal here. As she let her gaze move through the other students in the front, it eventually landed on Jackie, although Gigi had to do a double-take to make sure it was definitely her.

The thing was, she’d gotten to see - unknowingly, at the time - Jackie often enough since the semester started to get a sense of her style. And from Gigi’s weeks of casual observation, she tended to favour loose, comfortable clothes, and mostly neutral colours. She liked floral patterns too, especially on shirts, which the brunette could appreciate.

However, the first thing she noticed today was Jackie’s hair. And really, Gigi thought that if it wasn’t for the bright smile and the longest legs known to humankind, she wouldn’t have even recognized her.

The messy dark brown hair that Gigi had gotten used to, and maybe dreamt about running her hands through once or twice, was now four inches shorter and numbingly straight, effortlessly falling over her forehead and almost into her eyes when she looked down. Something about the flawlessness of her hair combined with the white hoodie she was wearing seemed to make her face glow, skin tanned and radiant with pearly teeth glinting through a bemused grin as she laughed at something her friend was saying.

Damn.

She was brought out of her daydreaming by the sound of students around her packing up their things, and Gigi realised that she most likely missed the professor dismissing their class. As she struggled with the zipper of her bag, the same one she’d been meaning to get fixed for the last three months but still hadn’t, she felt a hand hesitantly tap on her shoulder, warm against the thin material of her shirt.

“Hey, Georgia right?” A voice asked right behind her, and when Gigi turned around Jackie looked just as good as she did the first time she saw her at the beginning of the semester.

“Gigi. I’m— my name— Yep, hi, that’s me. What’s shaking?” The brunette chuckled awkwardly, “Thank you so much for agreeing to help me out, I really appreciate it! Or at least agreeing to consider it I mean, I know we really just said we’d talk about the details today, so you technically haven’t agreed to anything yet. And you don’t have to, obviously.”

Jackie didn’t seem thrown off by the sudden explosion of words and gratefulness, which Gigi took to be a good sign. If anything, her smile only grew less hesitant, the tiniest dimple appearing on her left cheek.

“We could, like, go to that library around the block? It’s a nice place to study, so.” Gigi nodded, following Jackie and making awkward small talk until they made it inside. She learned in those quick minutes that Jackie liked crabs, and geography, and obscure movie references no one else understood.

“It’s been a while since I was here to be honest.” Jackie grinned, swiping at her phone casually. “I missed it.”

"Right, Rock mentioned you’d transferred out of the faculty.”

The brunette hummed in agreement, looking a little surprised at Gigi’s knowing about this. “Yeah, I swapped my major and minor back halfway through my second year. Geo major with a minor in stage production now.” She made little jazz hand motions as she said it, and the brunette really wished she didn’t find it half as endearing as she did.

“Okay, so, tell me more about what you’ve been struggling with so far,” Jackie asked with a tilt of her head, and they got down to business. *** Maybe it was a little self-sabotaging (or self-serving, she could never quite decide), but part of what Gigi quickly found out she liked best about their bi-weekly tutoring sessions, was how much time she got to just stare at Jackie. She’d finish writing up the draft of her weekly listening assignment and pass it on for the older woman to read over, and get a solid five-to-ten minutes of ogling out of it.

Not that she was ogling her per se, that sounded bad. She was just… appreciating. Appreciating Jackie’s arms, and her neck, and her cheekbones, and her brain as she read through Gigi’s outline. Every now and then, Gigi would catch her frowning slightly, bringing her pen to the paper and tapping over the words as she read a section a few times over before making a quick note and moving on. It was kind of embarrassing how devastatingly cute Gigi found the whole thing, honestly. Like how the way she was resting her head on one hand, her fingers accidentally creating a gap that just perfectly framed the dimple on her left cheek.

“Hey, Geege,” Jackie suddenly smiled as she turned towards her. Fuck. Gigi really hoped her face wasn’t making what she was just doing incredibly obvious. “What did you have in mind for this part here?” She asked, shuffling her chair to bridge the space between the two of them.

“Which part?” Gigi shakily replied, leaning in a little. The paper she wrote her outline on was on the table, technically close enough for both of them to read, but just barely. Gigi told herself that was her excuse for moving in a few inches more, until their hands were almost meeting on the sheet of paper. Almost.

Jackie was making it hard for Gigi to focus, leaving her stumbling through the start of an explanation of the admittedly somewhat unclear point she’d made in her outline about the sudden change in rhythm. As she got into the meat of her point, she could feel herself getting more confidence, gesturing with her hands as the words started coming out more easily, and Jackie nodded in wordless understanding. It only took a few sessions to realize that if there was one thing Jackie was good at, it’s listening. It never felt like she was trying to put answers into Gigi’s mouth - letting her explain her perception of the music instead, and asking questions when needed. She made Gigi feel like even if writing about how she experienced music as an art form would never come all that naturally to her, not in the way sewing or even most visual arts did, it was something that was still within her reach. Something she could understand and relate to.

“So, are you saying it felt expected to you?” Jackie asked eventually, after Gigi paused. “Like it was building up to this in the previous parts? Or that it caught your attention specifically because it was sudden? Or out-of-place, maybe.”

The brunette took a moment to think, replaying the lead-up to that section in her head.

They weren’t even touching, but she could feel the heat radiating off the older woman’s skin. She could feel the warmth, could see it in Jackie’s gaze as she looked softly back at her, she could smell it even. And Gigi knows that didn’t actually make sense, that all she was probably smelling was laundry detergent and sweat and maybe coffee. Gigi didn’t even like the smell of coffee. But right now, sitting side-by-side in the library and alternating between emphatically talking and listening to each other, Gigi felt like all of those things.

It was only when they both moved on from that particular point, a few messy notes from Jackie hastily written to Gigi’s own words, that she realized just how close they’d gotten. She was well into Jackie’s personal space, their shoulders no longer content just brushing against each other occasionally but rather aligned against one another. No wonder she could smell the coffee.

She started to move back slowly, not wanting to draw attention to how close she’d gotten, but a sharp sting on her ear stopped her mid-motion. She let out a small cry of pain, Jackie immediately turning to face her. The older girl felt impossibly closer than a moment ago.

“I think my earring got caught in your shirt,” Gigi said quietly, a pained and nervous giggle leaping from the back of her throat. She remembered putting them on this morning, long and dangly strips of silver shaped like eyes, and thinking about how they might get stuck in her hair. If the lack of distance between the two of them went unnoticed earlier, it was definitely no longer the case. Gigi felt incredibly conscious of every exhale of her breath, of Jackie’s face only inches away from hers. The guy in the seat in front of them threw them a dirty look, like he was annoyed at how wrong Gigi’s flirting attempts had turned out. She couldn’t really blame him because, what the fuck, they had turned out pretty bad, huh.

“Hold on,” Jackie breathed, “let me untangle it for you.” Gigi knew she was speaking quietly because they were in a library, and so close to each other anything above a whisper was unnecessary, but she was struck hard by the intimacy of it nonetheless. She couldn’t decipher whether choosing to wear those earrings today was the best or worst decision she’d ever made.

Jackie reached for the end that got caught, carefully lifting it away from the threads of her sweater. It was the kind of tangle no one could probably ever manage to achieve if they tried, and yet happened without either of them realizing it. When she moved to grasp at the fabric a little more firmly, her fingers brushed against Gigi’s neck, unexpected. And maybe it’s stupid to feel so thoroughly destabilized by the mere touch of a fleeting hand, but Gigi found herself forgetting to breathe for a few seconds.

“There,” Jackie chuckled as the earring finally came free, looking in Gigi’s direction without directly meeting her gaze. “I think you’re all good now.”

Gigi thanked her politely, but she’d be the first to admit she found it hard to focus during the rest of their session, every brush of air or clothing against her neck making her shiver at the memory of Jackie’s fingers. ***

“Wait, Jackie Coxx?” Crystal asked the next time Gigi met up with her to catch up over some drinks in their favorite dive bar. Crystal had technically been Jan’s friend first, but she and Gigi had gotten a lot closer over the years, bonding over a love of what their friends would lovingly call ‘loud’ and ‘confident’ clothing choices. “‘Trips on her own feet’ Jackie Coxx?” Crystal continued, the grin on her face widening as Gigi felt her cheeks heating up. “Follows at least three Twitter accounts dedicated to Star Trek? Rockie’s junior year baby crush? The same—”

“Rock is still a junior, Crys,” Gigi interrupted, laughing, because— what. What. “And wait, she has a crush on Jackie? My Jackie?”

“So not the point,” Crystal answered, still smiling like this was the best news she’d heard all week. “My Jackie huh? God, you’re such a simp—”

“No.” Gigi groaned, dragging out the ‘o’. “Back to Rock. My best friend, Janet fucking Sport, is head over heels, stupidly in love with Rock. And I don’t care how adorable she is, if what you’re telling me is true, she’s just been… been using her! And that really this whole time she’s just been waiting and pining for Jackie! As if Jan didn’t—”

It was Crystal’s turn to interrupt this time, the smile having faded away from her face to leave way for a confused expression. “Gigi, Gigi, stop for a second,” she repeated, a little more forceful than the brunette was used to hearing her speak. “Come on, think of all the time you’ve spent with Rock, with both of them. Have you ever gotten the impression that she was anything that a hundred and ten percent in?”

The brunette closed her eyes for a moment. She thought of Jan ditching her and Nicky to go hang out with Rock every Friday. Of Jan dragging her to go shopping on the weekend before Valentine’s day, an itemized and color-coded list of stores and potential gifts saved on her phone. Crystal definitely has a point, Gigi let herself recognize, deflating as the potential anger left her body as quickly as it had arrived.

“Rock did a tour of the university, back when she was still in high school and she wasn’t completely sure what program to apply for. Jackie was the one doing it apparently.” The red head paused to take a sip of her drink, grimacing a little at the taste. Why she kept ordering those novelty IPAs everywhere they went despite knowing full well she didn’t like how hoppy they were, Gigi had no idea. “I think she just made Rock feel comfortable, you know? Like, it was fine that she didn’t have everything figured out already, and made sure she knew she wasn’t making a decision at seventeen that she could never walk back. So Jackie gave her her number in case she had any questions, and then they actually started hanging out together once Rock started this year.”

“Oh,” Gigi realised, “that does really sound like her, yeah.” She could imagine it in her head, Rock a little younger and more unsure, not all that dissimilar from how she behaved when Jan first introduced the two of them to each other.

It was strange, remembering that a few months ago she would avoid directly meeting her gaze or spending any one-on-one time with her, when she could also recall the ‘u up’ and ‘netflix? :)’ texts she received from the shorter woman last night. It also really sounded like Jackie, although she didn’t tell Crystal so. It was just as easy to imagine her taking the time to reassure a worried high-school student without making her feel like she was being talked down to.

Crystal was still looking at her expectantly, and Gigi couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed at how strongly she reacted. “So, not an actual crush then?”

“Nope, she just thinks Jackie is really cool. God knows why, because based on what I’ve heard, she’s kind of a giant dork.”

“Hot giant dork.” Gigi rolled her eyes. “Maybe I should have asked you that first.”

“Uh-huh,” Crystal replied, giving Gigi’s shoulder a squeeze. “You should ask her for the full story, actually. I’m surprised you haven’t heard it before, but she tells it much better than I do. And maybe you want to spend some time thinking about why you reacted that quickly, because we both know Jan is a pretty flimsy excuse.”

The brunette sighed loudly. “It’s just a crush, it’s nothing.” It didn’t sound convincing even to herself. Back when Jackie was just the hot girl in her class, that would have probably been true, but it felt like a long time ago now.

Crystal rolled her eyes with a cheeky smile. “That was a lot more believable five minutes ago, but sure.”

Gigi made sure to hit her in the leg for that, laughing easily and sputtering mindlessly about how she had it all wrong.

“Wait, what did Rock used to want to study, back when she was in high school?”

There was a long pause, before Crystal finally cackled., “Video game design.” *** geege do you think it’s weird

rockstar YES

geege … to ask someone if you can platonically caress their cheeks kiss them on the forehead at least wait till i finish to be mean

rockstar u know what this is both not as weird AND weirder than i expected ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

geege what do I do roxanne she’s not gonna tutor me forever. the final is less than a month away how do i tell her i wanna date her without seeming like i wanna date her

rockstar go up to her and be like ‘if we played pokemon together, we’d be a pokematch’ ;)))

geege what

rockstar will you be the nidoking to my nidoqueen

geege tf those sound like the names of drugs

rockstar yk it was one thing when you were just thirsting after the hot girl in ur class but now it’s actual feelings how embarrassing

geege u have given me a solid amount of advice. none.

rockstar k fair how about i pick up noodles on my way back? and we can eat that for dinner while you tell me all about ur gay crush without my consent

geege i like the chicken stir fry ones

*** “Do you want to listen to it again, maybe?” Jackie asked, reaching for her headphones. “Then you can tell me the exact part you’re thinking of.”

It was another Wednesday afternoon, but this time they’d ditched the library in favor of a small coffee shop that was closer to where Jackie lived. It was artsy in a way that Gigi was used to, a little hipster, but not actually fancy enough to properly lay claim on the word. The tables were a little worn in and wobbly, the lattes a little too cheap, and the art prints on the wall either too well-known or not enough.

“Sure, just give me a second.” Gigi took the earbud the Persian woman offered her, making an aborted motion towards the computer, before following through as Jackie nodded at her with a soft smile. The older woman’s phone vibrated on the table between them, and she took a quick glance at the screen before putting it back down with a little more force than necessary.

It took Gigi a few tries to find the part she had in mind when mentioning texture, replaying the same part a few times over until she was fairly certain she found what she was looking for. “That part here, until the tempo slows down again—”

The brunette was cut off by the sound of Jackie’s phone vibrating on the table again, lighting up with a missed call notification and some texts.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” the Persian woman cursed sheepishly. “This is so rude. I’m sorry, Geege, I should have just turned it off earlier.” She sounded a little annoyed, but mostly flustered, taking a quick look at the screen before flipping it back over facing down.

She flashed the younger woman an apologetic smile, her cheeks coloring a little as she pointedly pushed the phone away from her.

“Are you sure everything is okay? We can take a break if you need to deal with some stuff? Or even just cancel for today, I think I have basically everything I need to finish writing this up, so.”

“No, no, âsemun be zamin nemiyâd,” Jackie protested, mind clearly elsewhere. “It’s nothing, really. Or, well, it is something I guess, but it’s kind of stupid and I shouldn’t let it distract me, you know?”

Gigi hummed noncommittally, not wanting to force her to talk about whatever this was if she didn’t want to, but finding herself unwilling to acknowledge it as something stupid either. She offered Jackie what she hoped was a quick and comforting smile instead.

“I just…” She sighed, rubbing at her eyes with the heel of her palm. “I’ve been waiting to hear back from this prof about a recommendation letter for grad school? And she’d said yes before, but some more students asked her, and she has this thing about not writing more than five letters per year, I don’t know. So she said she’d get back to me today or tomorrow to confirm, and I’ve just been really stressed.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry. That sounds really stressful.” Gigi brought a hand to Jackie’s shoulders, squeezing the back of her neck lightly. She tried to avoid doing too much extensive thinking about what she might do after college, but she doubted it was a train of thought that’d ever made anyone feel good.

“It’s okay, I should be used to it.” Jackie shrugged with resignation. “It’s just that every time I remember I’m waiting to hear back from her it makes me think of next year, and what’ll happen if I don’t get in? Or if I do, because it’s like I really know that grad school is what I want to do, you know?” She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, and Gigi really wished they were close enough friends for her to offer Jackie a hug or something.

“Just call your prof back now. You should have said something earlier, and we could have rescheduled.”

“Oh,” Jackie breathed out, sounding inexplicably surprised as she turned towards her. “No, no, no, no, that’s not necessary. That wasn’t her. I’m sorry I’m a bit of a mess today, let’s just get back to this thing, yeah?”

Gigi nodded, reaching for the headphones and passing one on to her. In a lot of ways, this had grown to be her favorite part of their sessions. Not that she didn’t enjoy listening to Jackie talk about music, which she did; mostly because she was practically tone deaf and found it magical that Jackie was so good at it, or trading ideas back and forth on the pieces they listened to, both of which were rewarding in their own ways. But there was something about sitting next to each other, silent save for the shared music, that just got to her.

They were standing outside the coffeeshop, Jackie struggling to undo the lock on her bike, when Gigi thought back to their earlier conversation. “I know it’s not the same because I’m not graduating yet, but you know I’m here if you ever need to talk to someone, right? Like, no pressure or anything, but I just— just wanted to put it out there, I guess.”

Jackie stopped mid-motion and looked up at her, half of her U-lock in hand. “Thanks, Gigi.” She grinned, all bright and pearly and warm. “I think sometimes I just get too in my own head, you know? Especially about things I can’t do anything about. And yes, I know how stupid it is to stress out over these things so much, I really do.”

“I don’t think that’s stupid, though,” Gigi mentioned, as they started walking towards her bus stop. It was really nice of Jackie to walk there with her, rather than just take off on her bike straight away. It maybe made sense now that they knew each other well enough, but her heart still kind of fluttered whenever she offered it. “I mean, maybe it’s not productive because you’re worrying about things you can’t control, sure, but it also means you care, right? And I don’t think that’s something stupid, even if you wish you could just… not care less, but care better, you know. Still care, but in a way that’s better for yourself. To yourself.”

She thought of her parents, and of the guilt she used to feel every time she overheard someone asking them if they really thought it was wise to let her go to college for fashion, how she overworked herself to the point of passing out alone in the studio her freshman year in a misguided attempt to redeem herself from having failed a class. Like she thought she could atone for her perceived academic failures by working her body into the ground. She thought of the conversations that had started to happen in her periphery, whispers of ‘What are you thinking of doing after next year?’, ‘Have you also applied for the internship at this gallery?’, ‘Have you considered doing a minor in business?’, and how she sometimes struggled with not letting these thoughts invade her brain late at night.

“I just think it’s hard sometimes, but it’s even harder if we don’t let ourselves accept it. Or talk about it. So I guess all I’m saying is that if you need someone to listen, you know where to find me,” she finished with a deep breath.

When she looked up, there was a quiet smile on Jackie’s face, and Gigi felt warm at the thought of maybe having been the one to put it there. ***

geege you know i suddenly understand why you do the shoulder thing like i use to never really get it but that was before

janjanjan the shoulder thing??

geege wait more important how did ur audition go did they love you when are you gonna hear back

janjanjan it went pretty okay i think they’re def looking more for someone that does modern

geege so that’s good! very good!!!

janjanjan and one of the choreographers sort of smiled and nodded at me at the end i think he was on the dance team my first semester but that was before he graduated ig anyway idk maybe it was just in my head

geege no but that all sounds really good!!! look at u go diva!

janjanjan gigi just finished twenty minutes ago she was wearing this stupid ass shirt a really loose tank bc it’s been hot af and one of the straps kept falling of her shoulder

janjanjan oooooooooh oh no that shoulder thing

geege i saw collarbone and so much shoulder and upper arm

janjanjan how tragic tell me, did she lift it back up

geege yeah but it kept falling back down

janjanjan that’s rly good though!!!

geege no it was torture did you know she has a mole on her shoulder? right at the top and all i kept thinking of was that i wanted to kiss it

janjanjan cute also i don’t know how to tell you this but that shit doesn’t happen by itself

geege well it’s not like it was her fault

janjanjan listen a shirt can be a too big sure but you still kind of have to make it happen it doesn’t magically keep falling off

geege hm

janjanjan believe me i would know *** No matter how much she tried to forget about it, Gigi’s last session with Jackie was a thing that was very much happening right now.

It was strange, thinking back to the beginning of the semester, how she almost didn’t sign up for the class. How she maybe would have never met Jackie if she hadn’t, or maybe would have just pined from afar without ever learning her name were it not for her meddling friends. She found herself spending the last half of their session wondering more about how to casually ask Jackie if they’d still hang out once finals are over. Or if their semester-long friendship was, well, just that.

In the end, she just blurted it out as they packed up their things, subtlety thrown out the window.

“I mean, you’re friends with Rock, so I’m sure I’ll at least see you around, yeah?”

Jackie only hummed noncommittally in reply. She was busy packing her things back into her khaki tote bag, checking each pocket like she was looking for something. It reminded Gigi of what she used to do in middle school, every time she hadn’t done the homework or just really, really, really didn’t want to be the one called on to explain her work in front of the whole class. She’d just lean down, and start searching through her bag very obviously, making a show of opening every zipper, her head almost disappearing inside it if she could manage.

“Do you, like, need help finding something in there?” She asked, her voice coming out more harsh than she’d intended, just as Jackie seemed to decide she’d found what she was looking for and decisively slung her bag back over her shoulder.

“Sorry, I— it was—” she stopped and started, letting out a resigned sigh and shaking her head at herself. It made Gigi want to cringe. “Yeah, I’m good now, and yeah, I’ll still see you around. At least for the summer, but after that too I hope! I mean, I’ll still be around and you’ll be around too, so, y’know…” she trailed off. Her cheeks were tinged pink, just barely. Her ears, too, or maybe it was just the white of her sweater making everything appear brighter in contrast. “Besides, you still haven’t shown me any of your work, and you promised you would.” She was right about that, Gigi knew. She usually wasn’t shy about showing her designs to other people, but somehow she’d found himself unsure of what to show Jackie first.

She settled her bag on one shoulder, and they started making their way out in companionable silence until Jackie spoke again. “Hey, actually, do you maybe want to grab coffee before heading back? I have a bit of time before my next class and I could use a pick-me-up.”

They ended up just stopping by Starbucks, because it was on their way and surprisingly empty for a Thursday afternoon on campus. Gigi got a mocha frappuccino (almond milk, extra whip) and managed to sneak in Jackie’s usual cold brew order before she had the chance to protest.

“Gigi…” She sighed fondly, kind of like a grandma would when her grandchildren were doing something they’d regret. She was shaking her head in resignation, which Gigi took as a sign that she’d decided to leave it at that.

“No, I’ve been stealing almost three hours of your time every week since almost the start of the semester and—”

“How can that even be true when Rock only introduced us in what, February?” Jackie laughed in protest, reaching out to grab her drink from the brunette’s hand.

“No, not the point!” Gigi replied, moving her arm back until the cup was just out of Jackie’s reach. “You’ve given up a lot of your free time for me, is what I’m saying. And you didn’t even really know me, I could’ve been a total freak.”

Jackie opened her mouth and looked like she was about to say something, but Gigi continued before she had the chance.

“And you were so nice about it. Not ‘nice’ like when you have nothing actually all that good or specific to say. But nice in that you never made me feel like I was being stupid, you know? And you actually took the time to explain things to me so I’d understand them, not just the bare minimum so I could pass. You did all that when you didn’t really have to, so that meant a lot. Means a lot. I enjoyed spending that time with you, and not because it means I’m going to pass the class.”

Gigi forced herself to stop there, even though she knew for a fact that she could’ve easily kept going. She could feel her words coming out a little rambly, probably sounding more confusing than appreciative. At least she hoped that was what they sounded like, because the only other alternative was frightening. The idea that Jackie was in fact hearing everything Gigi was saying, her poor attempt at expressing the warmth she had felt growing inside her all semester long every time she was beside her, was infinitely more terrifying.

“Geege.” Jackie looked away, smiling after a moment, looking a little embarrassed. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Gigi could feel her cheeks getting hot, but when she looked up she could see that Jackie’s cheeks were tinged pink, too. It was almost funny, feeling what she felt and seeing the physical reflection of it not on herself, but on the person causing it. She wanted to reach out and let the tip of her fingers brush against Jackie’s cheeks, to see if they felt as warm as her own face did.

“You don’t have to say anything, I wasn’t trying to, like, I don’t know, get anything. I just wanted you to know what I meant, and that I really did mean it, when I was saying thank you.”

Gigi was laid bare, like her body was nothing but a lens, and behind it were all of her feelings jumbled together in a tangled mess, conclusion still very plain to the eye.

It was a surprise, when Jackie stepped forward and kissed her.

Gigi closed her eyes reflexively, but she could feel herself inhaling sharply, her body failing to catch up with what her brain was also struggling to process. When she eventually kissed back, it was only because she could feel Jackie’s body starting to move away, the fear finally pushing her into action. She brought one hand up, resting it on the side of the older woman’s neck, fingers gently brushing against her hair as she kissed back a little more confident. She could feel Jackie’s hand on her waist, warm and solid. Her grip tightened slightly as they separated, not strong enough to keep Gigi anywhere but a reassurance of where she was wanted.

Neither one of them really stepped back when the kiss ended, just stayed standing right in front of each other, breathing the same air. She heard Jackie swallow, loud in the silence of their shared space. She licked her lips, a reflex she didn’t even think about, and it was like the realization that, oh my god, they just kissed, hit her all over again when she found them wet. She suppressed a small shudder, although she wasn’t sure how successfully.

It was Jackie that finally broke the silence and stepped away from her, letting her hand fall away from Gigi’s side, brushing against her wrist and then gone before she had a chance to realize it.

“I,” Jackie breathed, “I’ve wanted to do this for a really long time, Gigi.” She laughed a little, maybe a bit self-conscious, and that was what brought the younger woman out of it.

“I spent hours talking to Jan about this gorgeous girl in my listening class,” she started, words leaving her mouth almost of their own volition. “How I didn’t even know her name but god, I really wish I did. Then I did know, even if I didn’t realize that you were, you know, you, when Rock said he knew someone who could tutor me. And then you were there and still the same person, but also so nice and understanding and just… good? Like, being around you just felt good.”

She paused, forcing herself to meet Jackie’s eyes again. “And I still mean everything I said earlier too, you know. Even if you weren’t interested in me, that’s not why I was saying it, but I still mean it just as much now.”

“Oh.” Jackie’s mouth was gaping so wide Gigi was worried it might actually fall to the floor. Maybe if Gigi were a different person, or if her brain wasn’t currently busy processing and reprocessing their kiss on an endless loop, she would have felt a little self-conscious at her outburst, but that just wasn’t who she was.

Especially not right now. Not when Jackie’s lips were right in front of her, still a little wet, still a little too red.

“That’s, that’s pretty good, then,” she finished quietly. They looked at each other in silence for a moment, only interrupted when Gigi let out a small snort.She couldn’t help but realise they were kind of ridiculous. Her face was taken over by an unashamedly stupidly large grin. Jackie properly stepped back then, far enough that Gigi could no longer feel the warmth of her body. She missed it immediately.

“I really need to get to my next class.” Jackie rolled her eyes. “So I can talk to the prof about her feedback on my draft first, but text me, yeah? I know it’s really shitty timing because we both have finals to take and papers to write, but I’ll make it work. Or I’ll call you, if that’s better? But I’m not running away, I promise.”

Gigi flashed her a bright smile and nodded in understanding. “I have your number too, y’know, so maybe I’ll just be the one to text you.”

“Okay, great, nice.” Jackie replied. She had her bag and coffee in hand, but made no clear motion to leave, kind of like she was worried if she did Gigi might disappear forever. It was so, incredibly, frustratingly cute and Gigi couldn’t help but wonder if Jackie would mind being kissed on the forehead.

“Jacks, it’s fine.” Gigi grinned. “I need to go too, anyway. Just maybe don’t drop your phone in any lake before you text me back this time, yeah?”

She turned away with a laugh of her own this time, and Gigi sipped through the plastic straw like it did anything to hide the smile on her face as she watched Jackie walk away.

“Wait!”

The Persian woman startled, turning back to her with an unsure smile. “What, did you forget something, Geege?”

“My first final is tomorrow,” Gigi said, looking up at Jackie with glinting eyes. “And it’s my first actual written exam this year, because I didn’t have any midterms, so how about another kiss for good luck, huh?”

Gigi’s cheeks ached from the force of her smile as she watched the uncertainty leave Jackie’s face, only to be replaced by a raised eyebrow and deep smile. Her shoulder’s rose slightly, like her instincts were telling her to hide her face in embarrassment at the cheesiness, but her eyes didn’t leave Gigi’s anyway. They didn’t leave Gigi’s, until they closed and their lips met again, and the younger woman thought it felt like more luck than she thought she had the right to ask for.

[hattywatch]

J. Vesey - You Like Making Me Wait For It

Author’s Note: This was supposed to be done for Valentine’s day but uhhh, about that... So here it is, almost a month late. The premise for this story is that Jimmy is actually a BIG FUCKIN’ SOFTIE and not the sarcastic little shit that I constantly make him out to be. This can be proven by the attached tweet. As always this is fiction, so don’t get carried awayyyy :) 

“It’s not a real holiday,” he texts his mom, in regards to her message to him, bright and early, on February 14. He follows it up with a heart emoji and tells her he'll see her tonight though, because she’s his ma and he’s not a complete mutant, but he pulls the blanket over his head and rolls onto his side and tries to fall into the warm feeling of sleep again. 

As cool and standoffish as Jimmy tries to come off, everyone who knows him would jump at the chance to tell you that in reality, he’s soft as shit. A quick scroll through his recently played on Spotify would give him right up if he tried to deny it. 

His icy indifference to Valentine’s day was never the norm. He used to look forward to it, liked it even, but after years of disappointment the shine has worn off and he's really had enough of it. 

_____

His first Valentine’s memory is fond. He put on his best clothes and walked into school, chest puffed out and chin raised proudly, the little red and pink valentines he worked on with his mom tucked away in his backpack, heart-shaped lollipops carefully taped onto each one. 

He didn’t understand the point of it until his mom patiently explained to him, “Sometimes we’re so busy everyday that we don’t tell people we love them like we should, so on Valentine’s day we spend the whole day letting everyone know we care about them.” He snaked his little arms around her waist and promised his mom he’d never be too busy to remind her he loves her. 

She hugged him back tightly and brushed away a stray tear on her cheek before she opened up the box and had him start listing off the kids names in his class so she could neatly write them on each card. He spends his time taping the lollipops gently to the cards that declare “Have a sweet Valentine’s Day.” 

As the class walked around dropping a card into each other’s decorated shoe-boxes, Jimmy couldn’t help but be filled with love for his friends. Tipping over the box afterwards, he was a little glum when he found out Tommy was the sole recipient of a card from Ashley, the pretty blonde with pigtails who sat 3 seats in front of him. 

When he walked home from the bus stop with Jess later, they talked about their favorite ones, in particular the heart shaped erasers the teacher gifted each of them. She didn’t get a card from Ashley either. His mom told him not to worry about it and quickly diverted his attention to the pile of valentines with pencils and stickers attached, ooh-ing and ahh-ing as he explained who each one was from. 

_____

In highschool Valentine's day is marked (like everything else during those awkward teenage years) by a rush of hormones and snickers. 

The week leading up to Valentine's day the cheerleading squad hung signs up all over the halls detailing how to purchase a rose to be delivered to the person of your choosing during classes. All of the proceeds go to a local charity, so each morning the voice over the speaker reminded the student body to buy a rose for a good cause before listing off the lunch of the day and signing off. 

Jimmy fills out a few; a pink one for his little cousin a few grades down from him, a yellow one for the librarian who helped him submit his college applications, and an orange one for Jess who just got a rejection letter from Duke and could use some cheering up. 

On the 13th he finds himself with $2 extra dollars and some time to kill before Jess is done with extra help and ready to walk home. He goes to the office and fills out a slip for a red rose to be delivered to Molly, a girl he's helped in Chinese class a few times; she's popular and cute. He can't help his heart from quickening when they go over characters that have been giving her a particularly hard time during the spare period they share once a week. 

He writes her name clearly in black ink, trying his best to keep his penmanship even and neat. 

"There you are!" He jumps, but luckily his pen is off of the paper, having just finished scribing the Y in his name. Jess walks up to him, braids trapped under her backpack straps; it looks uncomfortable. "I've been looking everywhere for you, dude." 

He slides the scrap of paper into the slot of the box in front of him. "Sorry, last minute love, you know how it is." 

He feels his cheeks get warm at the thought of Jess catching him in the act. She is much more pragmatic when it comes to love. She hasn’t dated at all in high school, laser focused on her grades and soccer. He knows she thinks he’s a sap for caring at all when it’s unlikely anyone will find lifelong love in high school, but he's a romantic, sue him.

"Yeah, I know. You're a sucker for this stupid holiday," she rolls her eyes at him and adjusts her bookbag, swinging the tails of her braids free. He shrugs a shoulder but smiles, because she’s right and he can’t deny it. 

“C’mon Romeo, my mom said she’d pick us up out front, it’s freezing today.” He follows her, excited about the prospect of tomorrow. He’s not sure, but he thinks Molly may feel the same way, and there’s no time like the present to find out. 

_____

When he quietly places his lunch tray down next to Jess she knows something is off. He usually bounds over to the table, chatty and excited to talk about his morning classes and who said what stupid thing that made the class groan, but he’s downright meloncholy and she can feel it roll off his body in waves. 

Jess twirls the stem of her orange rose between her pointer and index fingers, “Thanks Jim. Made my day.” She bops him on the head with the flower. He smiles a little but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“Rough day?” He nods and starts picking at the crust of his pizza. 

“I didn’t sign my fucking last name.” Jess doesn’t quite understand, so she kicks him under the table to get him to look up from his pizza and make eye contact. She raises her eyebrows in question and he finally continues, “I sent Molly a rose.”

Jess hums for him to keep going, she heard a rumor going around about Molly and James Jordan getting together, but she hadn’t heard anything about Jimmy. 

“We study together every week. Chinese. She has a hard time with the-" he waves his hand to clear the subject, "anyway it’s not important. We have a free period together every Tuesday and I help her with it. I thought maybe she noticed.” Jimmy sighs and squishes his water bottle in his hand, “You know I get nervous around her, so I thought maybe she knew. Anyway, I sent her a flower, but I just wrote ‘Jimmy.' No last name. She thought it was Jordan and she walked right up to him in between classes and kissed him. They have a date Saturday night.”

Jess winces, “That blows. I’m sorry, Jim. Maybe it’s not meant to be for a reason. I heard that she…" she pauses because she's never actually heard anything bad about the other girl, but desperately wants to cheer up her friend. "I heard that she… snores?" Jimmy finally rolls his eyes and laughs. 

"Oh yeah, cross her off the list. That's a deal breaker." He smiles for the first time in hours and he's sure Molly isn't the one he's been waiting for. 

_____

In college his fervor to have a nice Valentine’s day led him to ask out the brunette from his Public Finance class, she said yes and seemed excited, but then text him to cancel 2 days before that she "forgot about a big paper that's due on Monday." His buddy John is in the same class and didn’t say anything about a paper, so Jimmy takes the hint and decides to go home for the weekend, tail between his legs and heart heavy from the rejection

He heads to the laundromat with a veritable sack filled with, what feels like, every piece of clothing he's ever owned, downtrodden and pissed off. He's loading his clothes into the machine when someone jabs him in the side with a boney digit. 

"What the hell are you doing, Jim?" Jess beams up at him. She's wearing pink lipstick, but is otherwise dressed in all black, like always. 

“Laundry. My mom had too many loads at the house ‘cuz Nolan brought his home too, so I’m just going to do it here quick.” He keeps shoving his clothes in the washer machine.

Jess nods at him, “Cool… cool. So, your mom still does your laundry?” She shoves her hands deep into the front pockets of her jeans and leans back on her heels with a shit eating grin.

Jimmy stops and looks up at her, “Uh, usually. Yeah, why? Can you tell?” He stands up, back sore from being hunched over the front-loading washing machine. She looks up at him and grins wider. 

“You’re supposed to separate the colors. Let me help you.” She starts pulling all of his clothes out of the washer and dumping it into her orange pop-up hamper. “Come over here, I’m using this machine.” 

“Why are you here,” he attempts gentle conversation since, apparently, he’s domestically useless. Jess opens a machine and starts pulling out all of his light colored clothes, basically pairs and pairs of socks and a few t-shirts here and there. 

“My stupid comforter is too big. It takes forever at my house, so I just bring it here instead of drying it 6 times,” she pauses,  pinching a lone sock and holding it out in front of her swinging it in his direction before throwing it in the washer, “lucky for you, James.” She helps him sort the other colors and shows him where the detergent goes and lends him some fabric softener that smells nice, she even advises him against washing his suit pants and the one nice sweater he owns, saying that he’d be better off dry cleaning them. 

An hour later when their stuff is all folded and packed back up, he’s got no other plans and he hasn’t seen Jess since the summer, so he helps her bring her comforter and sheets to her car and stands there awkwardly trying not to make this weird. 

“Jessie,” she turns around, scarf half wound around her neck, death glare pinned on him. 

“Did you want me to kill you? Don't call me that,” she swats at him and opens her trunk so he can drop her cottony smelling bedding in it. 

“Let me buy you dinner, this was really nice of you to help me.” She smiles and agrees without any cajoling. 

“Oh god, yes. I’m starving. Chipotle?” There’s a reason they’ve been friends for so long. 

They order and he pays while she fills up their cups and finds an empty booth. When he drops the trays down on the table and slides her the burrito she ordered, he smiles and reaches his hand across the table, “Jessie, will you be my Valentine?” 

She rolls her eyes, but it’s warm and laced with affection when she kicks him under the table, “You fucking sap. You’re lucky you bought me food or I’d say no.” She takes a bite and chews, but Jimmy keeps needling. 

“So you’re saying the way to your heart is through your stomach.” He nods, “Noted.” 

They chat over dinner, discussing college and what people from high school are up to. She’s in an accelerated program at BC and should graduate a year early. He’s reserved, but hoping to get drafted. 

It’s not long after they're done, still taking up space in the booth, when his mom calls, “Hey ma.” Jess mouths ‘tell her I said hi!’ and gets up to throw away their garbage and heads to the ladies room. 

“Jess said to tell you hi,” it’s barely out of his mouth before he regrets it. 

“You’re out with Jess. On Valentine’s day?” Her tone is accusing, but soft. “I always liked her. I didn’t realize you were seeing each other. You don’t tell me anything anymore.” Before she can get too deep in her pity party he stops her.

“It’s not like that. We just ran into each other, we didn’t plan anything” Jimmy scratches at a scuff on the table, wishing he just waited until he got home to have this conversation. The last thing he’d want to do is make Jess uncomfortable with this. His mom prattles on about how she’s always liked Jessica from down the block, but Jimmy mostly tunes it out. It’s not until she’s walking back to the table, smiling softly at him that he rushes his mom off the phone the best he can.

“I’ll tell her you said hi. I’ll be home soon, see you, love you, bye!” He hangs up before she can get a word in.

Jess plops down across from him, “Did you tell her I said hi? I love your mom.” He assures her he did, and stands up, stretching. 

“We should get going,” he grabs his keys off of the table, and Jess stands too and follows him out to their cars. 

“Thanks, Valentine,” she unexpectedly hugs him around the middle. “I usually hate this fucking day, but you made it pretty bearable.” 

He can’t help the laugh that escapes him; she’s such a pessimist. “Yeah, I get that a lot after dates. Bearable.” 

His heart stutters when he realizes what he said, his hands get clammy. He feels dumb, hanging up on his mom so she didn’t make Jess feel like tonight was anything that they didn’t intend it to be, and then he sticks his foot straight into his stupid mouth.

Jess doesn’t flinch though and just follows him out the door to their cars. “See ya later, Jim. Don’t be a stranger. Cambridge isn’t that far, yeah?”

He laughs and hugs her goodbye again before getting in his own car and driving home. 

When he unlocks the front door his mother is on him like a hawk. “Where’s Jessica? Why didn’t you bring her here? I just love that girl.” He has to remind himself to calm down before he opens his mouth, because she means well and loves him. 

“She had some stuff to do, but she said hi,” he grabs a cookie off of a plate cooling on the countertop and prays his mom doesn’t need to go out, lest she catch sight of Jess’ car in her driveway and ruin his lie.

She takes his half eaten cookie from his hand and takes a bite, chewing slowly. “What you’re saying is that I shouldn’t get my hopes up,” before she pins him with a glare only a mother could muster. 

“Still single, ma.” He grabs a cookie in each hand and hustles up the stairs to his room before she can pepper him with more questions. 

He lies on his bed and flips on his tv, clicking channel to channel until he finds a hockey game that will keep his attention. By the end of the 2nd, the Bruins are up 4-1 over the Leafs and he mutes the intermission report to scroll through twitter uninterrupted. 

His timeline is filled with photo after photo of happy couples and gushing declarations of love. He can’t help but sigh and be a little jealous. After watching the rest of the beating Boston lays on Toronto, he shuts the TV off and lies awake, staring at his ceiling. The jealousy has faded, and now he’s just a little sad, slightly disappointed, with a pinch discouraged mixed in. 

He’d blame his next action on hopelessly romantic desperation as he opens Twitter back up and drafts his tweet. 

Spending another Valentine's day without having found “the one.” Hope she is out there somewhere safe and sound.

Jimmy taps the button to send the tweet and rolls over onto his side before the day catches up to him and he falls into a mostly dreamless sleep. 

_____

 Valentine’s day as a Ranger finds him alone in the city once more, begrudgingly texting his mother back and pretending this holiday doesn't make him feel like Steven fucking Glansberg. 

At least he's back in Boston tonight, starting  an away stretch down the eastern seaboard. He has two whole days to spend with his friends and family in his home state before the game against the Bruins and before they leave for Carolina and two more down in Florida. 

He takes his parents out for dinner soon after he lands, and then hits up a few friends to go to the bar. They’re all happy to hear from him, but only Tommy can come out, everyone else is busy with their girlfriends. He can’t blame them. He’d rather be courting a pretty girl than third-wheeling with his parents, but he’s not there yet in his life, so a few beers with Tommy will have to do.

They’re chatting through their second round of Guinness and watching the basketball game when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He leaves it, the game is getting good and it’s almost the half. A three-pointer closes it out and Tommy excuses himself for the bathroom, so Jimmy signals the bartender for two more and finally pulls his phone out of his pocket. 

Jess: Jimmmmmmmmm

He smiles in spite of himself. 

What’s up Jessie?

But then Tommy comes back from the bathroom and he puts the phone back into his pocket, because he’s a good bro and that’s rude. 

He almost forgets about it, laughing with Tommy through the rest of the game and catching up with a few kids from the neighborhood that walk into the bar and spot him, but then he takes his phone out to order an Uber and he sees the notifications. 

4 unread texts from Jess

He orders the Uber after putting in Tommy's address as the first stop and his parent's home as the second before he swipes back over to his texts. 

Jess: I'm at a galrnyinrd day party

Jess: Galrntinrd*

Jess: GALENTINES******* 

We were playing text or delete and I didn't want to delete you 😭

She's obviously had a few. Jess was never one for overt emotion. But it's always fun getting it out of her, so he hopes she hasn't sobered up in the hour that's passed since she text him last. He climbs into the Uber after Tommy and types out a careful message to her. Eyes struggling to focus since he had a few beers himself. 

Didn't know you cared, Jessie. 

He finally looks up and says goodbye to Tommy with a handshake that turns into a hug when the car comes to a stop, before settling back into the backseat for the rest of the ride to his childhood home. 

He doesn't get another message from her until the driver stops at the final destination and wishes him a good night. Jimmy leaves a tip when the app pops up asking for a review and sits on his front steps in the cool night air, trying to sober up before he walks inside and wakes the whole house up. 

Jess: You're a big dummy. 

The message is quickly followed by another. 

Jess: When are you coming home next? 

Jimmy doesn't know what to say to that, so he stands up next to his house number and snaps a selfie before sending it off to Jess. 

Jess: 👀👀👀👀

Jess: I'm walking to you now

He hears her front door slam from 6 houses away in the quiet stillness of the late night. The next thing he hears echoing are her giggles followed by heavy footsteps as she runs over to him. 

"I misssssed you." She's a little tipsy still, he can tell by how tightly she wraps her arms around him. 

"Missed you too, Jessie," he winds his arms around her too. She buries her face in his chest and he can feel her cold nose through his shirt. 

"Let's go hangout in the basement. It's freezing out here," he unlocks the front door with his Patriots key, the same one he's had since middle school; the paint chipping with use over the years. 

When they walk through his mom's kitchen, she opens the fridge and grabs two water bottles before following him down the steps to the basement where they'd spent much of their youth watching movies, doing homework, and playing Mario Kart. He feels calm and at home here, sunken into the old couch with her by his side. 

"So, Galentine's?" He swipes one of the water bottles from her and takes a sip before switching on the TV to whatever is on TBS, it looks like The Notebook.

"Don't make fun. It's a nice excuse to drink some wine and have a good night with your friends." She sniffs haughtily.

"Yeah, yeah. Any excuse to drink and gossip," he's just picking on her a little. It's what they do.

She swigs her water and looks at him with a little distaste coloring her face. "Stop acting like you and Tom didn't do the same thing earlier; I saw his insta story." 

Her eyes open wider as she realizes what she said, and he's a little taken aback. If she saw Tommy's story, that means...

"So you knew I was home?" He presses his knee against hers on the couch.

She looks anywhere but at him, finally focusing her attention to the water bottle in her hand- unscrewing and re-screwing the cap back on. 

"I mean..." She rolls her eyes in that careless way she has about her, and he notices her sweater is pink, as are the socks peeking out of the tops of her boots. "Kinda." He feels her move imperceivably closer into his side.

He can't help the smile taking over his face, "You just wanted to spend Valentine's day watching chick flicks with me, you can say it." 

"Shut up," she hits him with a pillow, firm across his chest. "Maybe."

It's the closest he's ever gotten to a mushy declaration from her and it warms him up. "You're an ice queen," he wheedles gently, wrapping his arm up and over her shoulders along the back of the couch. 

She sighs and leans her head on his shoulder, he's happy to sit here watching Noah hang from the ferris wheel, just like this, but Jess is apparently not.

"Not feeling so icy right now," she whispers, so low he's not sure if he imagined it, but then she's right up in his ear, "Feeling a little warm, actually."

She places her hand flat on his chest and sucks gently on the skin under his ear behind the tendon in his neck and he's feeling a little warm too, as a matter of fact. 

"Jess," she doesn't pause at the sound of her name, "Jessie," he pushes, a little more firm, he can't bear to physically remove her because it feels too good, but he's just, not sure she wants this.

"Jimmy," it's mumbled against his neck, and she barely pauses sucking into his skin to pant out his name. 

"You don't really…" he stutters, not sure how to go about this. "Are you sure you…" She bites gently at his neck and he can't help the groan that leaves his lips, "Jesus Christ, stop that for one second. I can't think straight when you do that."

 He gently pushes her shoulder to give himself room to breathe and collect his thoughts, but when he looks over at her she looks downright chagrined. 

"I'll just… go," she starts to stand up and he grabs her wrist and pulls her back down to the couch. 

"No you don't." She falls to the couch ungracefully next to him, red in the face and eyes glassy. "What the hell is this about, Jess. You can't just do… that and then leave without a word." 

"Don't make me say it." Jess looks down at her hands. Her face gets impossibly redder and Jimmy is sure he's going to like this next part very much. 

"Gotta tell me your feelings, Jessie." She refuses to look at his face and he can't stop the grin from forming. 

Deciding to put her out of her misery, he nuzzles his nose against her neck, gently exhaling into the sensitive skin there. 

"You… I… ugh!" She grasps at the back of his head and tilts her own to give him better access, but he refuses to take the bait until she says it. 

"Say it," he whispers, pulling away just enough so his lips don't graze her skin. 

He can feel the sigh she releases before she steels her body, spine going straight and takes a deep breath. 

"I want nothing more than to watch cheesy chick flicks with you. Both on Valentine's day and every other single day of the year. You're the only person that has ever made this day worthwhile and I…" 

He's not sure how the sentence was supposed to end, because he's so proud of her that he can't wait and stops her mid-sentence with a kiss on her mouth. 

She doesn't really have much to say after that, and he knows she's not great with feelings, so he's just being merciful.

_____

Mrs. Vesey makes her way down into the basement on February 15th, a basket of laundry propped up against her hip. She screams once, startled by the unexpected lump she finds on the couch in what she thought was an empty basement. 

She screams a second time when she realizes who spent the night. 

Jimmy could have done without either.

[strikearose]

IT’S ALL ABOUT CONNECTIONS (SASUNARU) (P. 2)

I hope you guys are safe. Here’s the second part of that silly !YoutubeSasuNaru story. Please feel free to give me your impressions <3 Summary :  Sasuke has had that massive crush on a youtuber for years when Rasengan randomly starts going to his class… You can also read it on ff.net and ao3. Part 1 (clic), Part 2 (clic), Part 3 (clic)

9:27.

Sasuke shook his head, annoyed at himself. There was nothing to be done : all hope of being able to concentrate again on what Mr. Sarutobi was telling had definitely vanished almost half an hour ago, when a certain blond head had finally made his noteworthy arrival. His last bit of coherent notes somehow proved it : the tip of his pen had dramatically crashed onto the sheet of paper, leaving a huge blotch of blue ink on top of it.

But no matter how much he was struggling, his onyx eyes were literally hypnotized by the psychedelic motif of the one Kiba who had called out (with way too much familiarity to his liking) ‘Hey Naruto, here !’.

No one in the auditorium had seemed the least surprised to see Rasengan bursting out in their class like that.

No one had made the slightest remark about this unusual interruption.

And worse than that - no one had flinched (or even giggled) at the sight of that awful washed out t-shirt.

The class had resumed straight-away as if nothing had happened for everyone, except for Sasuke, who couldn’t take his eyes off the curious pair only located a few rows away.

Kiba Inuzuka and Naruto.

Naruto.

It must have been his real name as he immediately turned towards the insufferable brown-haired boy before settling down beside him, a big grin on both of their faces.

So Rasengan’s real name was Naruto.

Naruto.

A strange name, but one that rolled almost pleasantly on the tongue.

Na-ru-to.

A name that months of search online had not been able to find.

Damn it - was it really like that? Rasengan just showed up one morning in the middle of their class and the teacher, without even batting an eyelid, let him sit next to… Kiba ?

… Just like that?

Kiba Inuzuka was dissipated, noisy and frankly dumb. If Rasengan really had just joined their class, wouldn’t it have been more appropriate to have him sit next to someone more serious? Someone who could at least explain to him what this class was all about? Someone reliable, rigorous.

Well - someone like him, for instance.

Tss - why did things never turn out like in a damn manga?

**

The next two days confirmed what Sasuke had understood. 'Naruto’ had really joined them in the middle of October. Incidentally, it had came to his knowledge that the blonde had previously taken a distance learning course.

Unfortunately, the black-haired man had not yet found a way to get in direct contact with the newcomer - even though, judging by the familiarity with which his classmates were already addressing him, it didn’t seem like that much of a challenge. Naruto seemed to be one of those people who didn’t need to be integrated: all he had to do was to jump into someone’s conversation after hearing them talk about music or a tv-show - and that was it, he was one of them. He didn’t care if he was interfering something or being intrusive - and no one seemed to mind: everyone welcomed his companionship with open arms.

In less than a week, Rasengan had become the complete idol of Konohamaru Sarutobi (who was trying in to follow him wherever he went), he had also managed to make the shy Hinata come out of her shell for a bit, and - more incredibly !, her cousin even seemed to tolerate his presence in class. And God knew how hard it was to be tolerated by Neji Hyuuga.

In short - it had taken Naruto less than a week to truly became one of them. It wasn’t just Inuzuka now - no, even that would have been too easy in comparison -, Rasengan was always surrounded by people.

Whether it was in class, during break time, in the cafeteria, at the washrooms, and even on the way to the subway, Rasengan was never alone. It was as if fate has decided to take away from Sasuke any possibility to talk to him.

His happy-go-lucky attitude, the honesty gleaming if his eyes, that damn smile that never seemed to leave him, even his laugh seemed to be contagious. There was something in Naruto, as in Rasengan, that you couldn’t help but notice, that made you wanting to be closer to him.

And just like Shino, who had mysteriously started to hand out more and more band stickers, Sasuke Uchiha had started to spend more and more time in the cafeteria, a place that Naruto and his clique seemed to be particularly fond of. It was their headquarters to him, Inuzuka, Nara, Sakura and many others.

And it was there that their very first interaction took place.

For once, Sasuke wasn’t even listening to their conversation: the hot drink machine had just been replaced and he was just trying to order a coffee.

« Yeah, you may not know it but it’s been six years since Mister Naruto has gone into that Youtube thing. »

The black-haired man’s sixth sense leapt up and, now paying way more attention to the conversation, pressed whatever first button within his reach.

« Ah, you say that, Kiba, but I might have a fan here ! »

Boom, boom.

It seemed to Sasuke that all eyes in the room had just laid on him - as if his moment to enter the stage had finally arrived.

But no: no one - literally no one - not even that harpy Ino or even Sakura were paying the slightest attention to him.

Everyone was watching Naruto.

« Pffft if it’s true, I’ll pay you lunch - Kiba giggled and turned towards the other tables of the cafeteria - Hey people, a star is among us! Does anyone recognize him? »

The entire cafeteria turned towards the blond videomaker who, not in the slightest embarrassed, had even stood up with a big grin on his face.

Sasuke hesitated for a moment before daring to do the same and looked at Rasengan.

A few seconds passed without a single voice being heard.

« Come on, nobody? - Kiba laughed - Ino dear? Saku darling? »

The two young women rolled their eyes before the nickname but ultimately shook their heads.

« Mr. Hatake perhaps? »

The teacher, who had come inside to get a snack, scratched his cheek before answering in the negative too. His knowledge in terms of videos were of a completely different kind.

With a triumphal grin, Kiba’s eyes wandered over all the students facing them, one by one, before stopping on the only one who hadn’t reacted yet.. - the opportunity was way too good.

« Well now, Sasuke? I think you’re his last hope. »

That was it.

His moment had finally arrived.

All eyes, including Rasengan’s, instantly laid upon him. They were hung upon his every word.

But Sasuke, once again, had just drowned into the silent contemplation of the blonde. But that time - it wasn’t about those blue, blue eyes, it was because of beautifully tanned skin.

They were now near the end of October, but it was as if he had just come back from vacation. It was almost indecent.

Luckily for him, the group had no idea of what was really going inside his head. They’ve all known Sasuke for most of their teenage years so the reason why he was looking at Naruto up and down was only because of that perfect opportunity to grow his momentum.

He was such a smart ass.

« Mhh no, I never saw your face before. »

Boom, boom.

Sasuke cursed himself for being such a coward, but there was no way he could make such a confession in front of the others - and certainly not in front of that stupid Inuzuka.

The group laughed as they saw Naruto’s sulky face.

« Hey ! - the student with the tousled blond hair tried in vain to defend himself - you can laugh all ya want! In the meantime, my channel is really growing ya know. I almost have four hundred thousand subscribers. That’s near half a million! »

The laughter doubled in intensity. Defeated, Naruto finally sat down with a sigh.

« You won’t say the same in a few months, you’ll see! »

The coffee machine made a jingling sound behind Sasuke, still under the shock of what had just happened, he took the cup of disgusting green tea and promptly left the cafeteria. He tried his best to keep a steady walk.

He still couldn’t believe it : he had just talked to Rasengan.

And it hadn’t went that bad.

**

Their first real discussion only happened few days later. And once again, Sasuke couldn’t have predict it.

When he had arrived at the uni, he’d been displeased to see a herd of students clustered in front of the bulletin board. It could only mean one thing: the results of the mid-term exams were in.

Oh.

His overall average had increased by half a point since his last semester - not so bad. And unsurprisingly, he was once again valedictorian, although the Nara was getting closer and closer to him.

He was seriously going to be wary of him.

His onyx gaze moved up on the list - just in case…

Found it.

Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto.

The name right after his.

For an overall average of nine…-

« Ninety-nine, a voice suddenly came from behind him and he jumped. SHIT! I was almost there. »

With frowned brows, Naruto took a good second to notice the presence of the model student.

« Oh, hey Sasuke! »

He had greeted him casually, a thousand miles away from suspecting what the dark-haired young man felt when he heard his name come out of his lips.

« I’m not passing, but I’m reaaally close to it. That should do it for the semester !, smiled the blonde, rubbing the back of his neck. What 'bout ya? »

That was it.

It was time to find something cool to respond to, something biting, intriguing. Something that came out of the ordinary. But without overdoing it.

…

In the end, Sasuke had to bring himself to state his result flatly.

«  Seventeen zero three.

- Oh shit, Naruto’s mouth opened wide. You’re actually pretty smart!

- …Yeah. »

Once again, Sasuke mentally cursed himself. It was really the only thing he could find.

However, Naruto didn’t seem to mind and the Uchiha’s overconfidence even made him chuckle.

Needless to say, after that Sasuke was on cloud nine the entire day.

**

Ting.

Sasuke took another sip of tomato juice before lowering his word processor window to open his web browser. He had this annoying habit of always leaving a facebook tab open, just in case.

Shino Aburame invites you to the following event…

Shino Aburame?

Uchiha arched an eyebrow, puzzled - he didn’t even know how that guy had ended up in his friends list. He clicked on the notification and almost choked when he saw what it was all about:

Shino Aburame invites you to the following event: Radioactive Worms concert on November 5th 8:30pm - Coffee Rokudaime.

…

Thanks, but no thanks.

The mouse pointer was about to click on the “Ignore” button on its’ own initiative when a crucial piece of information suddenly jumped out at him: 13 of your contacts are interested.

Well.

Before refusing for good, he could at least do a quick check.

A satisfied smile stretched his lips as he recognized among those names that of Kiba Inuzuka - a first.

Because if ’Naruto Uzumaki’ was nowhere to be find on Facebook, Sasuke knew at least where to find him in town: always in company of that loser.

**

Sasuke was late, fashionably late - the concert had already started for at least fifteen minutes. Suigetsu, who was dragging his feet behind him, cursed as soon as the first notes of music reached their ears. Well, to his defense, Sasuke had left him little choice - he had come to fetch his old fencing buddy at home, claiming a sudden urge to go for a drink and insisted on not going to the bar that was just in his street, choosing instead to make him walk three kilometers.

And the least that could be said was that Radioactive Worms was a very appropriate name.

Sasuke promised Suigetsu to buy him a drink as they soon as they could reach the counter. He somewhat felt quite sorry for the silver-haired young man, knowing how much he liked electro music, but - hey, he really needed an alibi.

There was no way he could look like a geek with no social life when he’d run into the entire Uzumaki gang -no.

Sacrifices had to be made.

And the gang really couldn’t get unnoticed : Kiba, Konohamaru and Lee (what the hell was Lee Rock doing here?), glued to the front of the stage, were already doing some weird kind of pogo dancing.

Sasuke squinted his eyes - there was no trace of the characteristic blonde hair he was looking for.

« Woh Sasuke, I can’t believe it! Is that Rasengan at the bar? »

This news had the effect of a bomb for Sasuke who promptly followed Suigetsu’s finger… to see Naruto ordering a mug of beer. The dark-haired young man took a deep breath before he walked with a decided step towards the videomaker, without even taking the time to answer his friend. He had finally managed to get rid of the dimwits, it was now or never!

« Oh, hey Sasuke! - Naruto was finally the one who started the discussion when he sensed a presence behind him - I didn’t know you were a fan of metal! »

'I didn’t either’, he failed to retort in time, while Suigetsu (who obviously felt obliged to follow him) was looking at him in awe.

The Hozuki was one of the few people who knew about Sasuke’s special appeal… to the blond guy’s videos. In fact, he’d had that bad habit of teasing him about so-called crush for a really long time. It happened so much that the upset Uchiha had swore never to confide in him again.

Suigetsu was therefore too shocked to learn that Sasuke knew freaking Rasengan to realize that he’d been shamelessly used.

« Yeah… - Sasuke cleared his throat, still uncomfortable in his company. You’re not with the others?

- Well, I’ll join them - the azure eyes looked at his friends and he laughed heartily when he saw them form a scramble - but first, I’m enjoying the happy-hour: half a pint for barely three dollars, can you believe it? »

Naruto finally seemed to notice the presence of Suigetsu who had been staring at him for a good thirty seconds.

« You two should hurry and order now! There’s only two minutes left - Naruto took a long sip before continuing - I’ll finish mine quickly to take another one in time!

- Oh cool, replied Sasuke distractedly as he couldn’t take his eyes off the beer-soaked lips of his interlocutor. »

The dark-haired man tried his best to ignore his friend’s mocking look when he obeyed the blond’s recommendations and ordered a pint for himself. Suigetsu knew how much the brunette hated beer, he was more the type to order only expensive cocktails.

Well - now he really had to get rid of him too.

Sasuke’s prayers were answered when a vaguely familiar face appeared, almost providentially.

« Suig, he raised his head to follow his friend’s gaze. Isn’t it Karin ?

- Oh, Suigetsu leapt up to his feet. I’ll be right back. »

'Liar,’ thought Sasuke, noticing that his fencing companion had taken the time do disappear with his own mug.

Well, at least Suigetsu had been taking cared of.

« His girlfriend?, asked a surprised Naruto as he looked at the pair in the distance, talking with animation.

- Or his ex, I don’t know. It’s hard to follow.

- Pfff! - the blonde snorted and took another sip - Girls…

- Yeah… »

Sasuke felt like slapping himself. Girls, yeah - as if he knew that sort of things.

Fortunately, Naruto didn’t seem to notice his discomfort and he started to list with great passion the reasons why he preferred beer to any other alcohol.

« And what’s more… Well - without beer… There wouldn’t be beer-pong!, he concluded proudly. »

If the brunette had been listening to his interlocutor’s account with an almost religious attention until then - for fuck’s sake, he was having a drink with Rasengan! - the latter point made him raise an eyebrow.

It was completely stupid.

All you had to do was replace the beer with vodka in the cups.

For a long had he been drinking?

Well - Sasuke chose not to share that last thought with the blond guy. To be fair, he wouldn’t have had the time anyway: Kiba Inuzuka had just arrived at their level and slapped Naruto in the back.

« What are you waiting for ?, the student was out of breath: his cheeks were red and he oozed of transpiration. »

Sasuke wrinkled his nose but once again wisely refrained himself from making a comment.

« I’m coming! Let me finish my drink and… -

- Nah, too late - his friend cut him off. I’m tired, let me rest for a bit… »

The gifted dancer was about to slump on the seat left vacant by Suigetsu when Naruto put his arm forward to block his way.

He looked at his friend up and down :

« Sorry, Kiba, it’s hotties only. »

…

Needless to say, Sasuke was over the moon.

Unfortunately, it was just a joke and Kiba ended up joining them.

**

The next morning, Sasuke woke up with an awful headache. It wasn’t caused by any alcohol abuse (Kiba and Naruto had fought to finish his beer), but by the performance of Radioactive Worms.

Holy crap - Shino.

The latter had ended up shirtless on stage while Naruto had dragged him into what turned out to be their first pogo-dance to the both of them.

The young man stretched out his hand on his bedside table to retrieve his cell phone. It was blinking: a facebook notification.

Menma Namikaze would like to add you to his list of friends.

Rightfully, Sasuke was about to decline the invitation when his pulse quickened: that damn smile - he was just getting to know it too well.

Click.

Sasuke Uchiha now had the honor of counting Rasengan among his Facebook contacts. And in order to celebrate it, he logically began to analyze every single piece of information available.

Menma Namikaze (what the hell was that fake name) had nearly eight hundred friends, was from Uzushio and had entered Konoha as his 'current city’ two weeks earlier. He was born on October 10th and his profile was full of selfies and embarrassing stuff.

But it was his profile picture, in particular, that caught Sasuke’s attention: sunglasses, a straw hat, longer hair, a luscious tan and a cocktail glass in his hand : Kiba’s comment summed it up nicely - ’god, you’re such a poser’ - although the ocean in the background was absolutely breathtaking, the only thing that Sasuke could focus on was the stunning smile on his new contact’s face.

As well as the fact that he was shirtless.

’why’s your name menma now’ - Sasuke was scrolling through the various messages under the publication (almost all of them were trying to make fun of the blond’s selfie) when he stopped on this one.

Excellent question.

Fortunately, Kiba had the perfect answer:

’mister naruto is afraid his fans could find his account’

’yeah, he’s got a big head now that’s what the hat’s for!’

…

Ah.

**

Ting.

That new notification wasn’t from Naruto, but from Rasengan. He had just uploaded a new video and Sasuke, like the dutiful fan he was, closed his spreadsheet to put Youtube in full screen.

« Heyyyy everyone! »

It was much less personal than 'Sasuke’.

« I made that promise long ago, so let’s get back to this cult game! Let’s see if Kyuubi will come first in the agility race this time. »

What the.

Nintendogs.

A video about Nintendogs.

A forty-minute video about Nintendogs.

As strange as it may seem, it was precisely for this kind of thing that Sasuke had started following the video maker. It was impossible to predict what he had in mind and what he was about to do or say. Deep down, as long as Rasengan kept making him laugh, telling crappy jokes and yelling stupidly whenever something took him by surprise, Sasuke didn’t care about what was the video. Rasengan wasn’t necessarily there to please his fans, he was there to have fun.

The first time he had came across his channel, about five years ago, it was by pure chance: Sasuke wanted to buy an indie game that nobody had taken the time to test so he had clicked on the first horrendous orange thumbnail he had seen. At that time, Rasengan wasn’t doing any face-cam and Sasuke would have closed the page if the idiot making the video hadn’t started screaming from the first second. The sound was really saturated, he must have lost some of his hearing that day, but at least the video was in his language.

So he had stayed. And without realizing it - he had started commenting out loud on what the video maker was doing. Criticizing him for not paying enough attention to the the npc, advising him to save before getting into new fights.

Yelling at him to be more careful and to stop rushing into the heap like an fucking moron.

A few days later, he had returned to the then-two thousand subscribers’ page with to see if he had made progress in the story.

The following days, too. But not for the same game.

Still - it had taken him almost two years of weekly visits to subscribe.

Months after, Rasengan had finally agreed to show his face to the camera to celebrate his 10,000 subscribers - and all the comments in that video were still to that day about how cute he looked.

And that was when Sasuke had mysteriously became a very regular viewer.

In the end, the forty minutes of the video went by way too quickly.

[blurry-fics]

Study Date

Pairing: college!Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1645

Request: This was a request from the lovely @applecakeradio who asked me to do a part two to Fire Alarm! It’s not super necessary to read that one before this fic, but it’s one of my favorites so I still recommend you give it a look!

Author’s Note: As mentioned above, Fire Alarm is one of my favorites, so getting a chance to write more for it was super fun! You’d think I would right more college!AUs considering I am in college, but I guess not... anyway, lots more sequels to fics coming in the next few weeks! :) (gif credit)

You slid your laptop into your bag and pulled it up over your shoulder, muttering quiet apologies to people as you brushed past them. Today’s lecture had been boring, as most of them were, but you were just glad to be done with it until next week. The only exciting part had been that Josh had sat a few rows in front of you, meaning that you had been able to stare at him instead of paying attention for most of the class.

You turned your music up as you followed the stream of people out of the lecture hall. Dark clouds filled the sky outside, but it wasn’t raining which you were thankful for. There was nothing worse than arriving back to your dorm soaked from the knees down.

Your roommate was nowhere to be found as you returned to your room. They had the tendency to stay out during the day, and as long as they made it back by the next morning, you didn’t really stress yourself over their whereabouts. Besides, who were you to complain about having the room to yourself?

You grabbed your laptop and took a seat at your desk, already flipping through pages of your anatomy textbook to find what pages you had to read. Your browser had just finished opening when there was a knock on your door. Figuring it was your roommate who had forgotten their keys, you quickly got up and opened the door.

It wasn’t your roommate.

“Hi,” the boy smiled, pushing his curly brown hair back from his face. “I’m glad this is the right room.”

“Uh, hey, Josh,” you returned his smile.

You and Josh hadn’t spoken much since the fire alarm incident last week, aside from a few shared smiles as you passed each other in the hall or glanced at one another in anatomy class. The whole situation had already been written off as a fluke in your mind and you had returned to admiring him from afar.

“What’s up?” you asked, breaking the silence that had formed between the two of you.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to study with me in the lounge,” he shrugged.

“Oh, um, yeah! Let me grab my stuff.”

Josh took a small step inside your room as you gathered up your study materials. His eyes wandered over all the posters and photos that covered your side of the room. It was hard not to feel at least a little embarrassed.

“Alright, I’m ready,” you said as you desperately tried to balance all your belongings in your arms.

“Great. Do you mind if we stop by my room?”

“Not at all.”

You followed Josh down the stairs to the third floor. He snapped his fingers as he walked down the hall, finally stopping at a door towards the end. Two name tags were stuck on it, although Josh’s was starting to peel away at the edges.

“You can come in, if you want.”

You took a small step into Josh’s room, too nervous to venture much farther. His roommate was sitting on one of the beds, tapping at keys on an electronic keyboard. He had headphones on, so he didn’t immediately notice when you walked into the room.

“This is my roommate, Tyler,” Josh said, gesturing to the boy on the bed. He looked up and waved at you with a smile. “This is Y/N, we have anatomy together.”

“Nice to meet you,” Tyler said quickly before sliding his headphones back on.

“He’s not big on talking,” Josh said quietly to you as he grabbed a textbook. “But he’s cool.”

You nodded and looked at the stuff on Josh’s wall. It was mostly posters for bands that you had never heard of before, but there were a couple pictures of his family and friends scattered around. Tyler’s side was a lot cleaner than Josh’s.

“Alright, let’s get out of here,” Josh said, grabbing his keys from where he had tossed them on the bed and walking out of the room.

You and Josh headed downstairs to the lounge that was on the first floor. There weren’t many other people there, so you had no problem snagging a couch. It only took a few seconds for it to become covered in textbooks and papers.

“What are you working on?” Josh asked.

“Just the reading for anatomy. Not very exciting.”

“Is any homework exciting?”

“I guess not.”

Josh pulled out a folder that was covered in a variety of stickers. Most of them were for bands or local radio stations. You thought Josh had mentioned something to you about working at your school’s radio station, but you couldn’t be sure.

“What is that?” you asked as he pulled out sheets of music.

“A lot of stuff,” he laughed lightly. “Some of it is for classes, but there are a couple pages from music Tyler has written. He wants me to figure out some drums for it.”

“That’s really cool. Do you mind if I take a look?”

“Go for it.”

You grabbed a nearby page and began to look over it. The word “Forest” was scribbled across the top in messy handwriting, accompanied by a few other little notes. The sheet music didn’t really make any sense to you since you weren’t a drummer, but it was still nice to look at.

“I had no idea you were a musician,” you said, handing it back to him. “I just thought you liked music.”

“I mean, I do,” he grinned. “But I’ve also been playing drums since I was little. Tyler and I have been talking about starting an actual band, but we’re not sure that we can do it with just two people.”

“Sure you could. Plenty of people perform on their own, so why couldn’t you two do something just as good?”

Josh seemed to like that answer, “You have a point.”

You smiled and flipped to the assigned reading in your anatomy textbook. It actually seemed like it might be decently interesting, unlike most of the other chapters you had been stuck reading over the last few weeks.

“Have you finished the lab for anatomy?” Josh asked. He was still sorting through his papers.

“Yeah, I finished it up last night.”

“How was it?”

“Not too bad, all things considered.”

“Do you think you could, maybe, help me out with some of it? I tried to finish it last night, but I got stuck on labeling the diagram.”

“So that’s why you wanted to study with me,” you laughed.

“No!” Josh smiled, rubbing at his arm. “I swear, I actually just wanted to study with you. It also just so happens that you’re really good when it comes to anatomy.”

Don’t make a dirty joke, Y/N.

“I’m just teasing. I’ll totally help out.”

“Thank you so much.”

He grabbed his laptop and began to open his lab report. You, meanwhile, skimmed over the assigned chapter and wrote down some of the bolded terms and their definitions. Midterms were drawing near and you needed to make sure that your notes were as comprehensive as possible.

“Alright, here’s what I have so far,” Josh said, setting his laptop down between the two of you.

You scooted over a little so that you would better be able to see what was on the screen. To your surprise, Josh did the same so that your legs were now pressed up together. It was hard not to smile at even the smallest amount of contact.

“What you have so far looks right,” you said. “What were you having troubles with?”

“I was just getting the arm and leg muscles mixed up in my head.”

“Did you try using the textbook?”

“Yeah, but that diagram looked totally different and I couldn’t tell what was what.”

You spent the next twenty minutes helping Josh figure out which muscle was which and how to tell them apart for future reference. Thankfully, he seemed to be picking it up pretty quick.

“I think you should teach the class,” Josh laughed. “That taught me more than our professor ever has.”

“I took anatomy in high school so most of this is just a repeat for me, but thanks.”

Josh grabbed his laptop and scooted away from you, leaving your leg feeling a lot colder than it had been. Now that he no longer needed your help, you went back to reading through the textbook.

The two of you stayed in the lounge for the next couple hours, occasionally asking each other for help or taking study breaks that involved telling high school stories or things that had happened in your other classes. You were genuinely enjoying time with Josh outside of class, and you were hoping that maybe this wouldn’t be the last time you two studied together.

“Well,” Josh said, shutting his laptop. “I’m starving so I think I’m going to head to the student union to grab some food.”

“Oh, ok. Thanks for inviting me to study with you.”

“Yeah, it was fun. We should definitely do it again sometime.”

“Agreed.”

Josh grabbed the rest of his things and started to walk back to his room. You decided to stay in the lounge for a little while longer, at least until you finished the reading, before heading back to your own room to make some food. Of course, this plan was short lived because Josh was quick to grab your attention again.

“Actually, would you want to come with me to grab some food?”

“What were you going to get?”

“Not sure yet. I’m open to suggestions.”

You smiled, “Yeah, let me just drop my stuff off in my room.”

“Meet you back here in five?”

“Yeah.”

Josh walked off and you quickly gathered up your things. Maybe you wouldn’t have to admire him from afar, after all.

[kamino-ink]

Smoke | Hwang Hyunjin

genre ⌁ high school!au, strangers-to-lovers, angsty, fluff sprinkled in loves

summary ⌁ you’re an infamous school druggie, always coming to school with bloodshot eyes, purple bags, and cracked, bloodied lips. rumors are nothing new to you, and in all honesty you don’t fight them - you don’t want to waste time on meaningless drama, after all. everything starts to change, in a way, when a quiet, easily amused boy comes to your school - and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

word count ⌁ 3.5k

warning ⌁ mentions of drug abuse, kinda heavy stuff - I can’t quite explain it without spoiling, but if you're sensitive to issues revolving around abortion, mentions of drug abuse, or anything of that matter - I highly suggest you go read another amazing fanfic in the community other than this one.

Check out my masterlist!

 It is quiet in your bedroom. The tiny music box with a shy ballerina in the center of the stage no longer plays the gentle tune that you had since memorized as a small child, her stage broken and cracked from years of not being touched unless it was to be thrown angrily against a wall or your bedroom floor. The pathetic excuse of a vanity set up by one of your uncles many years ago is covered in bits of stray dust, stains of colorful makeup dried on it’s aging white surface. A lonesome eyeshadow pallet rests dangerously close to the edge of the vanity with the shattered mirror, now going on its second year of being unused; the same can be said for the foundation, the lid seeping with now dry product and dotted with old fingerprints.

 It is lonely in your bedroom. There is no trace of happiness or laughter lingering in the open, chilly air being let in by the cracked window on the wall. When was the last time someone other than your dealer had stepped into that very room, now littered with blankets, papers, and old sentimentals? When was the last time you had a friend spend the night and build silly forts made of fluffy blankets and thin sheets? When was the last time your parents walked in to wake you up with a glass of water or a shake of your shoulder?

 Gray puffs of silky smooth smoke billow into the dank air of your bedroom, seeping out along with a few stray ashes that drop onto your carpeted floor. It’s only your first cigarette of the day, so it doesn’t exactly do much for you - and it’s just a smaller dose of nicotine, nothing that made your cheeks flush a deep red in euphoria. But it would have to do until the end of the school day.

 “-her eyes are so red, do you think all the drugs she does has made it permanent?”

 “You think that’s weird? Check out her eyebags - I can’t believe the principal let’s a wild panda roam around our school!”

 “Ew, look at her lips! I hope she doesn’t kiss her boyfriend with those lips.”

 “Isn’t she dating that Mark Lee guy that graduated last year? I heard he’s a biker in a gang downtown.”

 “No way, I totally saw her making out behind the cafeteria dumpsters with Jeno! Ugh, I would kill to kiss him-”

 Mark Lee is someone you used to call your best friend, back in the days where neither of you had been addicted. While he was a good year older than you, the Canadian boy had not once left your side - not even when you became friends with a little pack of boys in your year; in fact, he had become the unofficial “dad” of the ragtag band of friends, trying to make sure none of you got into too much trouble in school.

 That, obviously, had gone tumbling downhill when one of his older cousins introduced all of you to a drug called heroin. He said that it made you feel relaxed and totally stress free; and as naïve high school students who believed yourselves to be more mature than you really were at the time, each and every one of you tried it out. But only you and Mark kept going back to his cousin for more.

 And then it got so, so much worse in just a couple of months before his graduation. You both had gotten high in the wee hours of the looming night, sat on top of the bleachers standing proudly on the football field where no school cameras could capture your faces, or the smoke that poured out between your lips. Mark had been using heroin just for the thrill, he said, stating promptly that he felt like a real man abusing the drug as much as he did. On the other hand, you sought false solace in the drug after long days of school and three different part-time jobs, as well as the constant neglect in your very own household. You didn’t think of this as an excuse, because you knew heroin was hurting your body and making you weaker - you hated it, but you also loved it.

 After puffing out another cloud of stunning smoke, Mark subconsciously slid one of his larger hands onto your bare thigh, squeezing the cold flesh warmly in a sign of affection. It hadn’t been new to you at all, his touch - but then he inched it closer and closer up your skirt until his soft fingertips were just itching at the corner of your panties. You’d glanced at the senior in bewilderment, which made him blush and pull his hand back. He apologized, saying that his brain had been too foggy to think straight, and that he’d never meant to try and suggest anything more between the two of you. While you quickly forgave him, you noticed how he used that same old excuse for everything he did.

 Got caught getting a blowjob from one of the school cheerleaders? Oops, he was high out of his mind and it didn’t mean anything. Found in possession of a firearm even though he wasn’t of age, nor did he have a permit? Uh oh, he was a bit woozy from his last puff. Joined his cousin’s little gang in Busan? That...wasn't a mistake. The second he graduated, Mark Lee packed his things and took a train to the city of Busan and never looked back, a white cigarette still burning between his lips as you and the other boys watched him board the train.

 And Jeno - god he was like your brother, at one period in time, inching his way into what had been Mark’s space as your addiction got worse and worse with each passing day. He forced you to eat some of his lunch when you would pull out a miserable excuse of a sandwich from your bag, watching diligently to make  sure you swallowed every single bite. He would help you brush out your rat’s nest of a head of hair in the girl’s bathroom every morning before the bell rang, ignoring the squealing girls with a cheeky grin and bright eye smile - even though he knew he could be suspended or expelled for it.

 He sort of understood where you were coming from, as he himself was from a family of abusive parents that hit him so hard he’d come to school looking like he’d been in a car wreck. You would stay behind a few hours after the final bell each day, disinfecting his fresh scratches while he ranted about life at home. You didn't mind, because he was your brother, in a way - and you were his sister.

 Then he left for a couple of months, early on in your senior year of high school - not returning until the first day of November. Turns out his parents had been caught abusing him by his grandma, who immediately took them to court and filed for custody of her precious grandson. She won the case, of course, and helped Jeno adapt to his new life full of warmth and love until he was ready to face the rumors back at school. After such trials and tribulation, you found that Jeno had moved on from you and instead took the reigns as the new “dad” of the group of friends that had been drifting away ever since the school year started. You didn’t blame him for wanting to break off any and all communication with someone who had a bad reputation for being high almost every single hour of the day - after all, he’d just broke apart from one toxic part of his life, why did he need to stick around and see if you were the same?

 Now, you were completely and utterly alone, left to hang your head slightly as your fingertips slowly turned the locked dial on your steel gray locker.

 “E-excuse me?”

 With a small pop the door to your locker swung open, being caught from hitting your neighbor’s unsuspecting head at the last second. There wasn’t much use to your locker, since you barely kept anything in there besides a few extra textbooks that were rarely put to use inside the classroom.

 “I-I’m sorry to bother you miss, but - but could you help me find my locker?”

 You turn your head just enough to see a nervous looking boy staring down at you, and he jumped a bit in surprise when your gaze met his within those few milliseconds. “Yeah, of course. What number do you have?”

 “Oh-! Um, it says... 4419.”

 “That’s... actually right in front of you,” a snort of amusement escapes your lips while you point to the small sticker with his assigned locker number stuck to the middle of it’s rectangular shape, “did you maybe forget your contacts or glasses at home, new guy?”

 ‘New guy’ laughs softly at your teasing words, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. The sleeves of his pink knit sweater droop down to the tips of his fingers like paws and his plump lips twitch into a bit of a more relieved looking smile. “It looks like I forgot my common sense at my doorsteps, actually,” he hums, “my first day here and I’m already lost.”

 You wonder if that’s how Mark felt when he left for college - did he even stick to his plans after high school? “Well, I can help you... not be lost, if you want.”

 “Would you really? Thank you so much - erm, what’s your name?”

 “I’m Y/N Y/L/N, senior.”

 “Well - miss Y/N, I’m Hwang Hyunjin, also a senior and the resident new kid.”

 Creative writing is by far your favorite class in the whole wide world - you can let your imagination run free, touching the clouds and diving deep into the depths of the sea to your pounding heart’s content. What scribbles of your healthy brain are left untouched by the roots of heroine have bloomed into beautiful flowers of creativity and a love for writing. While your practice in the class is deemed strange to your other classmates, you find it peaceful and heart warming.

 “What’re you writing about, Y/N?” Hyunjin’s already soft voice comes out as smooth as fresh, orange honey. The boy leans over a little to look at your computer screen already jumbled with ideas and bursting thoughts - class had just started fourteen minutes ago and you were still brainstorming while he’d messily put together a web of ideas that were a bit lackluster, in his opinion.

 “I’m thinking of either writing a mafia alternate universe story about Park Jinyoung, or a cheesy romance ploy. Not too sure which one is better, honestly.”

 You write fanfiction - or, for lack of a better term, content that involve your favorite idols in the universe; ranging from the queen herself Hyuna to Park Jinyoung of a band called GOT7, there’s no one you won’t write about. The pieces you write so eagerly are published not in a book, but onto a social media website called Tumblr where everyone in the communities you write for can read your work. You were never ashamed of admitting that you were a fanfiction creator because it made you happy and proud of what you could do; your online mutual would shower you in silly praises and jokingly scream at you in caps lock for more pain-filled scenarios. Complete strangers would leave red hearts on your posts and send you anonymous messages that made your little heart soar in joy.

 Your schoolmates thought it to be super weird - I mean, writing fantasies about famous celebrities for anyone to see, quite possibly the celebrity themselves? They couldn’t wrap their heads around it, although you didn't blame them too much for their harsh critiques of your passion. You just enjoyed making up bizarre or somewhat realistic scenarios since it made you and so many other people happy - an emotion you couldn’t seem to grasp that often in the real world.

 “Mafia stories are the thing these days, why not go back to the roots of romance and write about like, a cheesy badboy and a good girl plot? Nothing wrong with clichés.”

 “Thanks for the input, Hyunjin.”

 “No problem, Y/N - hey, make sure I get to be the first to read it though, alright?”

 “Of course, don’t worry about it.”

 The next two weeks, once filled with something quite similar to nothing at all, was filled with a bright light called Hwang Hyunjin. Clad in mostly just oversized shirts that would hang comically low, all the way down to his knees, or pastel knit sweaters along with plain jeans, the senior would stick by your side as if he was stuck there. Sure he made a few other friends, but he never failed to walk with you to lunch and plop down beside you at the otherwise empty table. He would offer you some of his lunch, since his mom had a habit of giving him proportions that a whole family of four could eat.

 The second week of having Hwang Hyunjin around as a friend was... interesting, to say the least. He’d been a few minutes late arriving to your designated table in the corner of the cafeteria, leaving you by your lonesome to drown in your poisonous thoughts. Just earlier the same day, the vice principal had pulled you aside and expressed her concern for your disheveled hair - saying that it could be a distraction to other students. Pah, hair being a distraction? Why, you thought it was already bad enough to comment on clothes that showed shoulders - now this? Then again, you had an inkling of understanding, especially since whenever you tried to run your fingers through your hair like the blonde cheerleaders did they would almost immediately latch onto a nasty knot.

 “Hey, sorry for - Y/N, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

 You hadn’t even noticed the stray tears dribbling down your flushed cheeks, nor the trembling of your chapped and bloodied lips that you’d been anxiously chewing on since the confrontation just hours ago in the hallway. “H-Hyunjin, do you... do you maybe have a brush with you?” The question slips through your lips like a mantra while you hang your head low in shame and glowering embarrassment.

 There’s a pregnant pause, then you hear the boy shuffling in what you can only assume is his school bag. “Chin up, friend - I won’t be able to properly brush your hair if you let your pretty head droop so low.”

 “I can do it myself.” The short words sound like a harsh jab, but Hyunjin thinks nothing of it. Instead your tall companion chuckles softly and helps you turn around so your back is facing his chest covered in a pastel blue material. “Hyu-”

 “Shh, just relax and eat up. We only have thirty minutes, after all.” He hums cheekily, accepting your huff of defeat as a sign of encouragement to get started on brushing the tangles and knots out of your hair. His long fingers go to work first, carefully loosening up any problem areas so that when he brings a brush to your hair it won’t accidently tear any of the tendrils. “You know, your hair is really soft.”

 You utter an almost inaudible, “thank you,” to the black haired boy, enjoying the way his fingers thread through your messy and tangled strands of hair. From the corner of your eye you spot Jeno, now sporting frosty white hair, leading Donghyuck, Jaemin, and Renjun into the crowded cafeteria. Somehow his eyes meet yours, then they drift over to the peaceful boy brushing through your hair. You’re too far away to see the way his gaze glimmers in remorse, perhaps even guilt sprinkled with hints of regret - though you’re too busy sending him an awkward wave to notice. The two of you had left things on not so much as a sour note, rather a mutual awkwardness.

 But you don’t miss the tiny curl of his lips and the warm crescents of his eyes sending you a polite greeting back. While Jeno was likely to always stay in your past, you knew that deep down you both would always see each other as equals and something akin to true siblings.

 For the person in the present, however - you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what Hwang Hyunjin was to you. Still, you hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t be apart of your past; just the present and the future.

 “You know, my mom almost aborted me.”

 Only Mark Lee and Jeno knew that your mom had been a drug addict when she was well into her pregnancy with her first, and only, child. Neither of them had much to say, assumingly because they didn’t know what they could say without coming off as intrusive or awkward.

 But, of all people, Hwang Hyunjin knew just what to say - well, ask. “How come?”

 The sky is a reflection of your mood, displaying poofy gray rainclouds spilling over with cold droplets of rain that echoed on the roof of his car. Its sunset painted hue with streaks of calming oranges and pinks had been stained with the markings of a dark, looming storm. Strikes of stunning yellow lightning crashed miles away from where the car was parked on a stray mountaintop, though the bellowing roars of thunder were enough to make you jump in the passenger's seat just a little.

 “The doctors were worried about the fetus - me, since she was a heavy drug addict. Not much has changed in that aspect, I suppose.” You mutter mostly to yourself, even though you’re more than aware that the boy next to you can hear just about every single word being uttered from between your lips. A cigarette had been embedded in the crevice of your lips hours before, but you refused to smoke around Hyunjin, so before he picked you up from work you’d tossed it into the closest trash bin. “Low blood sugar, premature birth, all that jazz, you know?”

 “I ended up having some super shitty breathing problems for the first year of my life - from what I was told, I rarely got to go home that year. My mom wanted to abort me at first, since she didn’t even want a kid in the first place and kind of didn’t want to risk having a weak baby that she’d be stuck with. My dad talked her out of it. Now... I don’t even remember the last time either of them has made me breakfast or hugged me.”

 The boy next to you remains silent for a moment, his brain processing everything you’ve just told him. For just over a month he’s known you, calling you his friend and desiring in some cases for something more - but he had never pried too deep into your private life out of respect to your privacy. He had a hunch that life at home couldn’t have been the greatest of occurrences, since he made it his duty to help you brush your hair during the first class of the day; you were unmotivated to do just about anything. Depression, you said was what is was, ate you alive with every other passing minute in his eyes.

 He leans over the console, free of his seatbelt since the pair of you had been parked on the mountaintop (well, ledge filled with parking spaces for sight seers) for the past two hours or so. With one arm going to rest on your shoulder, he lets the other fall down nicely into your lap so he can intertwine his warm fingers with your cold ones that usually held a budding cigarette. “While it would’ve been the safer option to - to not have you, I want to be selfish and say that I’m glad she didn’t.”

 You feel the hand holding yours lift from your legging covered lap, just to brush under your jaw. “Why is that, Hyunjin?”

 His knuckles and your own are controlled by his larger hand, meaning that he was the one to tilt your head up towards his own, half of his body still leaning over the console of his car. “Because... I never would’ve met you, Y/N.” His face inches down closer to your own flushed one, his lips brushing against yours as light as a feather.

 Hwang Hyunjin has been your remedy to your heroin addiction for the past month or so since he entered your life. He didn’t judge you harshly, rather he’d come into your life with a nervous laugh and a warm smile tugged at his plump, pink lips. His reassuring words were enough to make you stop smoking every single morning before school. His words of encouragement made you realize that smoking twice a day only made your eyes even redder than before, to which you rounded down to just own measly smoke each day.

 And his gentle kiss was enough to make you want to stop altogether, because you didn’t want Hwang Hyunjin to remember your first kiss tasting like remnants of smoke and drugs.

[dandelions-sea-blog]

These are the Nights that Never Die Chapter Three

Read on Ao3(so much better there)

Rainy Days are the worst....

Previous || First || Next

“Wow… the storm’s gotten really bad, hasn’t it?” Blue says, looking up at the sky. Despite the fact that it was mostly clear, with only a few fluffy clouds covering up the blue ocean above, the RV has been plagued with moaning winds and harsh rain all morning.

“yeah, it’s really raining dimes and nickels out there…” Red says, head in his hand.

“What does that even mean?” Blue asks, giving his friend an odd look.

“that there’s been a change in the weather.”

“Stop.” Blue slaps his palm into Red’s face. It only seems to encourage him.

“Is Red making unnecessarily complicated puns again?” Papyrus sighs, eyes never leaving the table as he scrubs it clean, removing all remnants of their breakfast. He’s tenser than normal; under his eyes are a woven pattern of black swelling.

“Yes, he is,” Blue pouts. Red places a hand over his soul.

“excuse? my puns are only as complex as they necessarily have to be,” He claims in mock outrage.

Blue rolls his eyes, going back to staring at the clouds. They are honestly very pretty… days like these just don’t seem real; when the sky looks just so perfect like this. Ah, if the weather wasn’t so bad they could all go out and have a picnic with the new food that Sans and Edge bought last night! It would be nice to get out of the RV… it has started to accumulate a bit of smell that Blue can’t quite find where it’s coming from.

A particularly bad gust of wind hits the side of the camper, causing Blue to jump and Red to jerk awake from his half nap. Sans watches them from behind.

“why don’t ya come away from the window?” He says from the couch,  “ain’t good t’ be that close to glass during a storm…” Sans’ books and spreadsheets laid out in front of him. He does all the planning for the trip; deciding where they’ll stop next, how much water they can use, how much food they have. Blue sometimes wonders what he does to be able to afford a vacation like this… it’s rude to ask though.

“Oh okay,” Blue says, pulling Red’s arm over to the couch. Blue takes a seat next to Sans while Red sprawls out on the floor, snoozing quietly. “...Lazy.” Blue mutters, shaking his head. At least the others have an excuse, being out all night getting groceries.

Sans hardly seems to notice when Blue sits down next to him, frantically scribbling on sheets of paper as he sweats in silence. Everyone seems to be stressed out today; Blue imagines it has to do with the storm. Papyrus is oddly quiet, hardly taking up any conversations or banters with his counterpart, and Edge has been particularly snippy as well. It all makes Blue very uncomfortable, but he refuses to bring it up in fear of making everything worse.

Blue plays with his hands for a while, trying to seem uninterested in the incredibly interesting things that Sans is up to. He may not want Blue looking over his shoulder, after all. He seems pretty deep in focus right now… He looks up at the ceiling, attempting to count every tile on the roof… then all of the corners of all the tiles… then all of the dead flies in spiderwebs that they really should clean off sometime …

“So whatcha doin’?” Blue finally breaks, looking over at the papers laid out all over the coffee table. In the center of them all is a blue notebook with a faded skull sticker on it. Sans smiles, glancing at Blue out of the corner of his eye.

“what, you wanna take a look at my cheat sheets?” He says, scooting over just enough that Blue can get a better view of all the papers.

“What are these?” He asks, looking over the complex documents.

Sans points to the first one. “this is water supply; we can carry about 150 gallons of water at a time, and we gotta periodically flush out the waste water.”

“That sounds hard,” Blue says.

“yeah, it’s a real drain. ”

“Mweeeh… no puns while we're learning!!!”

Sans chuckles, shuffling the papers around. “right now i am focused on making sure that we have enough food to make it to our next stop - this storm has really put us behind schedule… we might have to leave today.” Sans says with a frown, tone shifting minutely towards the ‘worried leader’ side.

“Aw, but we just got here,” Blue complains. Sans snorts.

“tell me about it… it’s a pretty big pain in my coccyx,” He says, nose ridge wrinkling up. “we got some stuff last night, but we’re gonna need a lot more before we head out for our next stop again.”

Blue hums in understanding. “So… if you don’t mind me asking… what is our next stop?”

“heh... i’ll tell ya when i figure it out.” Sans’ voice sounds deeper than usual, raw exhaustion interwoven between every syllable.

Blue raises a brow bone, confused. Don’t they have this trip planned out at all? He opens his mouth to ask exactly that when there is a loud noise from the kitchen, taking both of their attention.

“nGAH!! EDGE! PLEASE REMOVE YOUR BLASTED CAT FROM MY KITCHEN BEFORE SHE BREAKS SOMETHING ELSE!!!”

“I DO NOT CONTROL HER MOVEMENTS, PERHAPS YOU SHOULD NOT STACK THOSE PLATES SO PRECARIOUSLY!!”

“welp... i better go step in before someone busts a skull…” Sans says, sliding off the couch. Blue scoots over entirely onto the couch, looking over the notebook that Sans left behind. He hesitates… is it rude to look in here when Sans had already sort of gave him permission? Yes, but Blue isrealllllly curious; he decides one little peak is a forgivable offense.

Blue giggles to himself as he opens the book, feeling like a child going through their parent’s drawers. Inside he finds page after page of calculations; records of how much fuel they’ve used, how much they’ll need, where they’ve been, places they plan to go… some sections are crossed out with little scrawlings giving reasons as to why this plan won’t work, or why going to that state is out of the question… just a bunch of random, ramblings thoughts and plans that Sans has collected.

Blue finds himself quickly bored with his searches, scanning through the pages until he gets closer to today’s date. He stops when the pages run out, going back to the last writings that Sans made.

Water:

   Runs out in 3 days

Black Water:

  Overflowing

Food:

  Runs out in 6 days

Ammo:

  Low but not dangerous. Yet.

Electricity:

  Literally the only fucking resource we have.

Closest Safe-Havens:

   Pleasant town (Too far)

  Gaston (Probably not safe)

  Hagersville (Not enough gas)

  Berton (Too Residential)

Conclusion: We’re fucked.

Blue hums, looking over the notes. Well these seem… rather bleak. No wonder Sans seems so stressed out all the time! He is doing so much planning and worrying that he doesn’t have time to enjoy this trip at all!

Blue closes the notebook, setting it back down where he found it. He claps his hands together. Well! This certainly won’t do! He won’t allow their brilliant leader to be bogged down with so much worry. Blue is going to make sure that he has fun tonight.

Sliding off the couch, Blue taps Red with his foot. The other stirs, looking up sleepily.

“wha…?” He says, rubbing an eye.

“Get up, lazy bones - we have planning to do!” Blue says, skipping back to their room. Red just shrugs, following along.

“whatever ya say, kid,” He mutters.

“now, have th’ two ‘o ya finally got that out of yer systems?” Sans says, exhausted from mediating the two very large yet immature skeletons in front of him.

Edge frowns, holding his precious cat to his chest. “I would be more satisfied if he would apologize to Doomfanger.” He says with a genteel tone.

“I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE TO THAT ANNOYING CAT!” Papyrus folds his arms, “YOU ARE LUCKY THAT SANS MADE ME APOLOGIZE FOR YELLING AT YOU.”

Edge snarls as the two fall right back into bickering. Sans sighs hard, pinching the bridge of his nose. This… is exasperating. Everyone is exhausted from their stressful night, and waking up to a hoard of zombies banging at the side of the bus this morning wasn’t exactly the most relaxing turn of events.

He doesn’t even try to get between the Papyruses this time, just sitting down on the dining booth as he waits them out. The van rocks as a particularly enthusiastic zombie slams its body into the side of the vehicle. Really, this is his fault. He should have known this place would be crawling with crawlers… except it also had so many useful resources - it was worth the risk as long as they didn’t do anything to catch the attention of any predators .

Anything, such as running out into the middle of the woods at night shouting like a crazy person …

Sans laughs at his own unintentional joke, even if it is in bad taste. He glances over to where he left the kiddo, feeling a deep pang of worry when he realizes Blue isn’t on the couch anymore. He looks around and sees that the back-room door is shut - Blue must be in there. He relaxes once more as he listens to his brother and friend snap at each other over just about every petty squabble one could have. Jeez… they haven’t fought like this since Blue came around…

That guy sure does wonders for the psyche, ironically. Sans really thought that things were gonna get better now that he was around; but nope. It was just a lull in their luck, a pleasant kink of fate. And now that they are settling back in things are going right back to shit.

Sans sighs.

“AND ANOTHER THING - DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW LOUD YOU ARE??”

He’s lost track of which one is speaking at this point… Sans puts his head against the table, digging his palms into his temples. The headache this entire conversation is giving him has spread to his patients. He’s done .

“ e n o u g h!”

Sans’ hand comes down on the table.

“alright, you two - listen up!” Sans snaps, head jerking up. If he still could, his eye would be ablaze with magic right now. He stands up off of the bench, ready to lay into the two skeletons until they put this petty squabble to bed for the rest of the day.

Except he is interrupted by a familiar, cheerful voice.

“Guyyyys~” Blue says in a sing song voice, walking into the room with one of the biggest grins they’ve ever seen on his face. In his hands he clutches a baby-blue bag - the only item they had found on his person when they discovered him locked away in the basement of his apartment complex. “I have a surprise for you~~”

Papyrus’ arms unfold and his face softens some. Of the three of them he has been the most receptive to Blue’s particular brand of positivity. It seems that no matter how bad his mood gets Blue is able to come in and cheer him right up. Edge is much less so, but even he relaxes a bit, attention turning from the skeleton beside him to the one across the room.

Sans smiles, well, this at least makes his job easier.

“heh, whatcha got there, kiddo?” Sans asks, hands shoved into his pockets. Blue’s smile grows impossibly wider. If he had skin it would probably tear with just how much force he is putting into showing his happiness.

“Close your eyes~” Blue commands.

“Now may not be the best ti-” Edge starts, abruptly cut off by Sans elbowing him in the shin. Papyrus already has his eyes shut, and Sans waits only long enough to ensure Edge’s cooperation.

“No peeking~” Blue says, voice laced with excitement. Sans can’t help the small grin that plasters itself over his face. The kiddo is just so contagious. There is a soft shuffling of fabric from in front of them, and something is unzipped as Blue places the contents of the bag down on the table in front of them.

“Ta-da!!” Blue shouts. Sans winces at the sheer volume of the noise. “You can open your eyes now!!”

Sans opens a socket to take a look at what Blue has decided to get so worked up over. Part of him is honestly expecting nothing - that he’s created some new delusion in his mind to instantly remedy the situation. But once again, the kiddo manages to surprise him.

“heh... where’d ya get that ?” Sans asks, hands in his pocket as he steps forward to observe the grey, book-shaped box that has been set up on the dining table. Even at first glance there is no mistaking what this is; a portable DVD player. Sans hasn’t owned one of those since they were in the Underground, and even then it was way back when he was a babybones. He opens the lid with a finger, looking at the screen inside. It isn’t much bigger than his hand-and-wrist, but it looks to be in perfectly good condition. He wonders if it still works…

“It’s mine,” Blue says proudly. “I carry it with me on the way to work. The buses run so slow, so I like to watch a movie on the way.” Sans snorts; that’s genius. Papyrus has bent over to look at the device, examining it with mild intrigue.

“Well that is very nice,” Edge says shortly. “But what I would like to know is why you chose now to bring on this impromptu show-and-tell.” He snarks. Sans rolls his eyes - jeez, what a wet blanket.

“Well, Red and I decided that it is time for us to have a movie night!” Blue says. The three skeletons stand up straight, looking between each other. Movie night?? Now? Blue smiles, crossing his arms. “I know that everyone is a bit stressed out because of the storm, so since there isn’t any way we can change the weather, we might as well take this time to relax and have some fun!”

Sans blinks, tapping his chin. That… isn’t a half bad idea actually. It’s not like sitting around and worrying about if-or-when the zombies will crawl back into their hiding spots is doing anyone any good. They have the extra electricity from charging in the sun all day; and if the three of them continue to stay this high strung it isn’t the hoard outside the party will have to worry about killing them all…

Edge looks less convinced, scowling at the device. “That has got to be the single dumbest idea I’ve ever-”

“heh i’m in.” Sans says with a shrug.

Both Papyrus and Edge look to him curiously

“Sans, are you feeling alright?” Papyrus asks, sounding worried. His hand comes down on Sans’ forehead. “You aren’t developing a fever, are you??”

“nah bro,” He chuckles, shaking his brother’s hand off of him. “i think it’s a good idea; our batteries are full and they’re just gonna keep chargin’ t’day since we won’t be doin’ much. i say we should just relax and take the day off.”

Papyrus doesn’t seem entirely convinced Sans is entirely sane, though apparently the idea of a movie night speaks to him as well, and he lets up. “Well, it does sound fun…” He says, a smile slowly writing it’s way onto his face.”

Edge is less convinced, looking between the two as if they had just suggested they jump out and try to make friends with the hoard surround them.

“HAVE YOU TWO LOST YOUR MIND!?” He snaps. “WE CAN’T JUST- WE CAN’T- WE HAVE TOO MANY THINGS TO DO!? SITTING AROUND JUST… DOING NOTHING????”

“it’s not doing nothing,” Sans corrects. “it’s a mental health day, for our health.” He closes the dvd player, flipping it over to check just how many watts it uses for his notebook. “if we stay cooped up in here worrying any longer we’re gonna end up killing each other or ourselves; the kiddo’s got the right idea.”

Blue squeals in pure delight. Hands curling little balls at his chest. “THIS IS SO AWESOME!! MWEHEHE… WE’RE GONNA HAVE SO MUCH FUN!!” He reaches into his bag, practically dumping out about half a dozen DVDs.  “I don’t have too many with me - if I had known we’d be gone this long I would have packed a few more…” He says, already going through and picking out favorites.

Sans chuckles, strolling across the room to one of the shelves.

“oh, i wouldn’t be too worried about running out of choices,” He says with a wink, opening up the doors of the storage space to reveal his and Papyrus’ collection. Practically every movie they’ve ever seen is in here, and several that they haven’t, all organized by genre and director. He turns around, delighted to see Blue’s awestruck face as he pursues the titles.

“now, what kinda movies you guys like t’ watch?”

In the end, they settled on five movies; A comedy for sans, an action thriller for Edge, a superhero film for Papyrus, a mystery for Blue, and a cartoon for Red. They drew straws to decide who goes first, all agreeing that Sans should get first pick of times since he’s done so much for them all. Blue and Red end up in the kitchen making popcorn while the other three set up the living room, finishing their chores down with twice the gusto.

An air of excitement seems to have come over the entire camper. It seems that for the first time since Blue arrived everyone is in anticipation for something; even Edge, despite his constant grumbles about how stupid this all is, seems to be just a little lighter in his steps as he goes through his routine.

By the time midday rolls around everyone is sitting in the living room, waiting. The spare duvet from the master bedroom has been pulled and laid out in the middle of the room, Papyrus and Edge sprawled out as Sans selects his dvd. Blue has finally finished popping the popcorn he found under the sink, pouring out the warm treat into bowls. He keeps the kettle ready for another batch, certain that there will be more need to be made by the time the day is through.

Blue hops up onto the couch with Sans and Red, offering up the bowls to everyone who wants one; which is everyone. Even Edge takes some popcorn, eating it slowly and savoring every bite. Papyrus is much less conservative with his, taking entire fistfuls at a time and dropping bits onto the mat which are promptly scooped up and fed to Doomfanger. Blue doesn’t actually see Sans eat any of his popcorn, but every so often when Blue looks over a little more has disappeared.

The movie is more to Sans and Red’s taste than anyone else's, but it gets a chuckle out of Blue. Sans, on the other hand, just about busts a rib with every line. Red lets out a constant stream of chuckles, drowning out the dialogue half the time. Blue acts as the runner, going between the living room and the kitchen to retrieve drinks and refresh popcorn. By the time the credits roll on the first movie everyone seems relaxed. Blue comes back from getting another round of snacks to find Papyrus leaned back into the couch with Sans draped over the armrest so the two are almost completely side by side. Red has his feet propped up by Sans’ head, looking halfway to sleep - a sign of relaxation for him. Even Edge looks less… well, on edge. He sits with his spine straight, Doomfanger in his lap. His facebones are no longer scrunched up, his shoulders hung relaxed at his side. Blue smiles at him, feeling his soul warm.

Edge glances over at Blue, face suddenly dusting with a light blush as he looks away, hands clenched.  “I still say this is a waste of time and electricity.” He snips, arms coming up to cross over his chest. Blue rolls his eyes.

“Would you like the orange juice, or apple?” Blue asks, holding out the cups in his hands. Edge refuses to look at him as he snatches the apple juice from him. Doomfanger rubs her head into his shirt and he lets a hand down to pet her coat.

“i think boss ha’ next selection, right?” Red says from the couch. Blue nods.

“Yeah, he does!” He says, turning back to the gruff skeleton. “Which one was yours again?”

“Midnight Blaze Racer Four,” He mutters, squirming in his seat.

“Aw, but we haven’t seen the first three??” Papyrus says, sounding just a tad disappointed. “How will we be able to follow the plot?”

“heh... yeah… ‘plot’...” Sans says from his spot on the couch, physically drawing the air quotes with his fingers. Edge turns, throwing a bit of popcorn back at Sans, bouncing off his head with a satisfying thunk . Sans chuckles.

“You will be able to pick up on main story,” Edge assures Papyrus. “Besides, this is the fourth installment, but it actually takes place before the first movie but just a bit after the third-and-a-half, which was a prequel telling the story how Blaze’s mother ended up going from a rich girl from southern california to wanted intergalactic crime fighter.” He is already loading up the DVD and skipping through the commercials for ‘soon-to-be-released’ movies that came out almost a decade ago. “But you don’t need to know any of that because when this movie came out the plot for the next hadn’t even been written yet. This is just the best movie in the franchize, so we are skipping all the garbage that came out with the extension and sticking to the original cannon.”

“...Well now I’m even more confused than when we started!!”

“shhh, just watch the movie bro.”

Blue ends up spending this move squished between Sans and Red, the two of them falling in and out of naps as the spectacle on the tiny screen plays out before them. Honestly, Blue has no idea what is going on, and he has a sneaking feeling that even if he’d seen all the previous movies he would still be lost. This time the movies takes about twice as long as it’s runtime due to Edge pausing it at random intervals to explain some plotpoint from another movie in the franchise, then again seconds later to answer follow up questions posed by a very befuddled Papyrus.

By the time that movie ends the group is very much ready for Papyrus’ much simpler, logical movie about an orphan bit by a genetically engineered snake, gaining the power of super speed and strength and chooses to fight the forces of evil. It doesn’t have to make sense in the real world - it just has to flow logically on its own. Which it does, somewhat. At times…

Papyrus is on the edge of his seat the entire time, and even Blue gets excited, cheering along Snake Lad as he takes on Sir Mongoose and saves Lady Lana, warrior super spy princess, from his evil clutches. Sans seems to get his enjoyment from the flick by pointing out every time the movie tries to do science and exactly why it is wrong, while Red just makes lousy puns on just about everyone and everything there. Edge pretends to ignore it, claiming the effects are too cheesy for him to get involved - but every once in awhile Blue thinks he sees genuine enjoyment on Edge’s face.

Finally it is Blue’s turn! Sans only had a single mystery movie that Blue hasn’t gotten to see yet; it’s an old one in black-and-white. It has a very unique pacing and tone to it, something that Blue can appreciate. Sans and Blue keep a long discussion going on about film techniques and cinematography. Papyrus and Edge seem bored, while Red straight up falls asleep during the first act, though the action scenes at least get some response out of the others.

During the final confrontation where the murderer is revealed Blue notices something. He steps forward, pressing pause on the player and he listens.

“Do you guys hear that?” He asks, quickly getting the attention of the other occupants of the room. They all sit up, listening closely for any sign of disturbance, sharing a look of mild fear.

“Hear what, Blue-Sans?” Papyrus asks with a frown. “I don’t hear anything…”

Sans’ eyes widen as he practically throws himself off the couch, bare bones clacking against the floor as he prances over to the window. He stands on his toes to look out. “...they’re gone……” he mutters, almost too quiet for anyone to hear. Edge and Papyrus share a look of disbelief as Blue smiles.

“See? The storm is over now, and you guys didn’t even notice!” Blue chirps. The others look between each other, seeming blown away by the fact that they could have forgotten about their current situation. Blue rolls his eyes, ejecting the DVD before going to the cabinet to select a new one.

“what’s up kiddo - movie borin’ ya?” Sans asks, going back to lay out on the couch.

“It’s getting late, and I wanna see Red’s movie before we go to bed!” Blue announces, pulling out the DVD Red had anted in. The skeleton chuckles from the couch.

“aw, yer sweet, kid,” Red says, setting his head on his hands.

Edge stands as the movie loads up, taking the empty bowls of popcorn back into the kitchen. Blue frowns, watching his friend leave the room with a deep heaviness in his soul. “...Are you not going to watch the movie with us?” Blue asks, downtrodden.

“No,” Edge replies, scrubbing the bowls harshly with a dry sponge. He growls softly as Blue watches, scrubbing with extra gusto. Blue would like to think that it is just because he is trying to get off the extra butter… but... Blue glances back at Red, looking apologetic. The bags under Red’s eyes seem deeper than normal as he waves a hand.

“don’ sweat it, kid,” He says, a hint of something deeply troubling in his voice. “boss is… complicated…” He leans back into the couch, arms folded over his chest. “let’s just watch the flick…“

Blue isn’t entirely satisfied with that resolution; nevertheless he slots the dvd into the player and presses play, sinking back into relaxation as the cheerful sound of violin music fills the room. Almost as soon as the actual movie starts Edge seems to be satisfied with the dishes, immediately climbing the ladder to his bunk and flinging shut the curtain with a loud grumble. Sans and Papyrus relax some, politely asking that they unfold their bed so that they too can lay down. By now it’s pretty late, after all; they spent the entire day watching movies.

Blue starts to feel sleepy as well, rubbing his eye as the movie splashes bright colors against the dark walls. He moves closer to the DVD player on the table, setting him and Red up at the foot of the brother’s bed. He curls up in the comforter with Red, rubbing his eyes.

“heh, kiddo… ya should probably get t’ sleep yerself,” Sans says from utop the bed, propped up on a pillow. “ya look bone tired.” He chuckles. Papyrus grumbles in his sleep, mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like ‘overused joke’.

“I wanna stay up with Red, though,” Blue says, flighting back a yawn. His head bobs without him meaning too, floating town to rest on his hands. “Everyone else got to watch their movie with friends…”

“heh, i think red’s already asleep kiddo…” Sans says from utop the bed. Blue blinks, looking back to his friend lying next to him. Sure enough, soft snores come from the snoozing skeleton. Blue chuckles, curling up in the blankets.

“What a lazy bones...” He mutters sleepily, petting Red’s skull. A soft purr builds in the other’s throat as he nuzzles into the touch. Blue is tempted to just sleep here on the ground; but that would just be too lazy for his tastes. Slowly he rises to his feet, nudging Red awake as he bundles up their covers. He turns off the DVD player and ejects the disk, making sure that all of the DVDs make it back to the correct case and spot in the cabinet before heading off towards his bedroom.

“Goodnight Sans!” Blue says, following the sleepy Red into the bedroom. “Goodnight, Papyrus…”

“Goodnight!”

“g’night, kiddo…” Just before Blue can shut the door Sans continues. “hey, uh… blue?”

Blue pauses, looking back out into the room. It is dark, the only light coming from the everpresent glow of the outside lamps. Sans’ silhouette would look ominous in any other context, but to Blue it is relieving. Sans’ posture is relaxed, slouched against the back of the couch-bed. Blue can practically hear the other’s calm soul-beat from here.

“i wanned t’ thank ya,” Sans says, contentedness filling the air. “fer t’night…“

Blue feels his cheeks warm, his soul aching in a way he can’t quite place. The smile on his face can’t be seen in the dim light of the RV, but Blue has a sneaking suspicion that Sans knows it’s there.

“Mweh… no problem, Friend! I’m glad everyone had fun...” Blue says quietly, slipping into the room. “Goodnight.”

[timmyrx2000]

Dipper Steps Up: Chapter 2

Chapter Index: (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13)

Chapter 2

Thursday morning Mabel and Dipper stepped off the bus with six minutes to go until the homeroom bell—but instead of reporting to the classroom, Mabel went barreling through the crowded halls, out the back door, and to the gym. Dipper had no idea of what she was up to.

Until she burst into homeroom exactly five seconds before the bell rang, thrust her arms up in the air in a Rocky-at-the-top-of-the-steps pose, and shouted, "Announcement! My brother Dipper made the baseball team! And my boyfriend Chuck Taylor is gonna be team captain!"

Immediately the students as one person greeted her news flash with a thunderous round of complete apathy. These are high-school freshmen we're talking about here.

The bell rang, and Mabel slipped into her desk beside Dipper. "You didn't have to do that!" he whispered in a fierce undertone.

"Yeah, I did! Wait'll lunch! Then everybody will know!"

The teacher took attendance, passed out the lunch menus—you were supposed to pick out which of two entrées you wanted, plus beverage and sides, but it was sort of Chinese-menu style, pick one from Column A, two from Column B, and one from Column C and so on, and Mabel complained that was unfair. She had been checking everything, though so far, she had been served the first entrée, the first two sides, and the first beverage she'd checked.

Dipper said that was what she deserved, but Mabel maintained she was educating her palate, which needed it, since she still had an obsession with trying to eat everything from chalk to wood shavings, just on an experimental basis.

After roll call, they watched the ten-minute video feed from the office, run by students (Mabel dearly wanted to audition and land an anchor spot, but you couldn't until you'd been in school for one full term and carried an A average). The sports announcer said only, "The baseball roster for JV has been posted in the gym," and Mabel jumped up yelling, "That's my brother he's talking about!"

Maybe it was fortunate that their home-room teacher, Miss Othmayer, was only a few years from retirement and also, as she had said while introducing herself on the first day, the daughter of a couple who met at Woodstock, wherever that was. Whatever, she seemed very easy-going and accepting.

That afternoon Dipper learned that he would have practice twice a week during the fall, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. High-school baseball season began in February, so after Christmas they'd step up their practice days and would play every other Friday or Saturday—and sometimes two weeks in a row. To his surprise, Dipper's position, at least to begin with, would be second baseman. Well, second-string second baseman. Maybe he'd get to play a few innings. The guys socialized a little, and Dipper got to know some of them.

The JV was light on sophomores that year—just four out of sixteen. One was Xavier Eager, first-string catcher, a guy whose grandparents had come from the Phillippines and who was a good-humored, joke-cracking boy even shorter than Dipper. Everybody called him "X-Man." "Hi-Ho" was the first-string center fielder. Dipper had to ask Chuck Taylor about his real name, because the big, gangly redhead—a little like Wendy Corduroy's big brother, but a heck of a lot slimmer—was somebody everyone already knew, and he'd earned his nickname by his greeting to everybody else: "Hi-ho, Dipperino!" He was really Gordon Hathaway. Chuck himself, first-string pitcher, was the third sophomore, and the last was Wyatt Wilson, called "Dub" because, Dipper learned, he said everything double and was pessimistic: "We got a lousy team this year, guys. We got a lousy team."

All the other twelve, including Dipper, were freshmen. After some uncomfortable hesitation, Dipper finally confessed that his first name was Mason. X-Man thought about that and said, "So we'll call you Bricklayer!"

Chuck came to the rescue: "Nah, he's got a good nickname already. He's Dipper."

And that was that.

They did batting and fielding practice that day. Dipper didn't get a chance to shine as second-baseman, but he did catch two infield fly balls, and he assisted in the practice's one and only double-play, fielding a grounder to his left, stepping on second, and firing the ball to Mike Monahan at first for the play. That earned him some congratulations.

His mom picked him up after practice, and Mabel—who'd caught the bus—waited to jump him at home: "How'd you do? How was Chuck? Did he say anything about me? Did he miss me? I'm gonna watch next Tuesday! What should I wear? Does he have a favorite color?"

"Whoa!" Dipper said. "Look, don't get too far ahead of yourself! You're not his girlfriend!"

"Yes, I am!" she said. "He just doesn't know it yet. He had a girlfriend last year, but back in the summer her dad got a job as a computer systems expert with Disney World, and she and her family moved three thousand miles away to Orlando, Florida! He's ripe for the picking, Brobro! What's that?"

Dipper held up the sheet of paper. "List of equipment I need to get. I'm just planning on the minimum. This will be expensive."

She yanked the paper from his hand. "Leave it to Mabel!"

And he suspected that he would have to.

Mr. Pines, much to Dipper's surprise, reacted with Mabel-level enthusiasm to the news that Dipper was the newest member of the high-school team. Mabel confiscated his list of supplies.

Then on Friday night she went online and began to read up on what the really stylish baseball player would be wearing that season and she added to the list . . . and added to the list . . . and added to the list. By the time she finished, she had more than doubled the length of the initial handout.

That was why, the following Saturday morning—without bothering to tell Dipper—Dad and Mabel snuck away to Bayside Mall, where the big MegaSports store was. "It'll be fun surprising him!" Mabel told her father. "We'll make him look sharp, and that'll really impress Chu—I mean Coach Waylund! This'll guarantee that he gets off the bench more!"

"I'm not so sure about that," Dad told her, smiling. "But like chicken soup for a broken leg, it couldn't hurt!"

So they parked in the sprawling lot and made their way into the mall and to the huge two-level sports store. "Oh, boy!" Mabel said as they stood in the wide first-floor entrance, her eyes sparking at the sight of thousands of square feet of brightly colored merchandise from anoraks to Z-straps and everything in between. "Get out your credit card, Dad! We're going shopping!"

The first thing on the list was "Athletic cup." Mabel got a little bit indignant when she found the display. "How's anybody supposed to drink out of that thing?" she said. "Let's get a bigger one! With a handle! And that won't even stand straight on a table! It'd spill!"

"Um, it's not really for drinking," her dad told her. "And it's sort of personal, so if you want to go look for some of the other stuff on the list, I'll pick up this and the underwear."

But Mabel tagged along, and when she saw how the cup would fit into a pocket in the underwear, she said, "Oh! My mistake!" But then she wanted to know, "How come the shorts are so long? They should be called longs!"

"Princess, these are called sliding shorts. Dipper may need to slide into base," Dad explained. "These give a little protection against getting your legs scraped up. I'll get him a couple of pairs, and a cup for each one."

The school would furnish the basic uniform, but getting a higher-quality jersey and pants was optional, as long as the design was the standard Piedmont one (which the store stocked), and Mabel took advantage of that, picking out two blue-pinstriped light-gray splitter jerseys with Dipper's name and number on the back in dark blue:

PINES

12

Those had to be embroidered and wouldn't be ready for a week, but Mabel forged ahead. She added a couple of pairs of boot-cut game pants and a Navy-blue baseball cap with the team logo and name printed on it in gold. And batting gloves. And a batting helmet. And long-sleeved undershirts. And stirrup socks (the clerk said, "These are what give a player the look of a real pro.") And a pricey stick of Midnight Big League Eyeblack ("Makeup for hunks!" she exclaimed). And enough to cause Dad to start to experience sticker shock.

Mabel wanted to buy an extremely expensive pair of cleated baseball shoes, but Dad finally drew the line. "Dipper will have to come in for those," he said firmly. "The fit's important. He has to try them on."

"I can do that for him!" Mabel objected. "We have twin feet!"

"Not close enough," Dad insisted. "Shoes are pretty personal. And anyway, those are red, black, and gray, and the list says black and white."

It was a bit of a battle, but in the end Mabel surrendered and had to content herself with the couple of hundred dollars' worth of equipment they had rounded up so far. Ah, but then the biggest purchase of all—

"This is a beautiful glove!" Mabel yelled. "Let's buy it for Dipper!"

"Um, no," Dad said. "For three good reasons. First, it costs over four hundred dollars. Second, this one is for an adult. Third, it's a catcher's mitt."

"But he deserves the best!"

"He needs a glove that will fit, and one that suits his position," Dad said firmly. "Here you can help. Your hands are really about the same size as his. Let's look at infielder gloves. Now, for second base, he'll need a pretty shallow glove, I-web, single-post."

Mabel tilted her head. "I have no idea what any of that means."

"It means one like one of these," Dad said, showing her a display of infielder gloves. "Let's try this one."

Mabel happily tried on gloves until they settled on an eleven-inch one as being about the right size for Dipper. It cost only a tenth of what Mabel's first suggestion did, so Dad looked relieved when the clerk finally rang up the purchase—though he did have to swallow hard before signing the credit-card receipt.

Dipper opened all the packages with widening eyes and an expression that fluttered between surprise and shock. "Dad!" he said. "I don't mean to go into baseball as a career!"

"Get dressed get dressed get dressed!" Mabel yelled.

He had to give in. He felt silly in his new baseball uniform (though he wore the practice jersey the coach had handed out, since the real one wouldn't be ready for a while). With the stiff glove on his left hand—"You'll have to break it in," his dad explained—he stood in the backyard and let Mabel talk him into posing as though he were about to catch a fly ball. She took a couple of photos, wasn't satisfied, and ran into the house.

"OK," she said, "stand still! Warpaint!"

Well—eyeblack ideally should be applied in short stripes beneath the eyes. It really isn't necessary to add tiger stripes and whiskers, but Mabel did.

And, of course, that was the photo that she decided to post on Peoplebook for all the world to see.

Dipper began to dread going to school next Monday morning. . . .

To Be Continued

Note from the Authors: This was just an idea I had but the one who really worked his magic and wrote almost all of this is none other than BillEase. He’s an amazing author who usually hangs out at fanfiction.net. Don’t pass up on a chance to check out his stuff. This guy is AMAZING. He wrote the story, I just gave the plot.

[tenebraetempest]

Football, Video Games, and High School - A Phan AU

Chapter 2: The First Letter Chapter 1 here ao3 wattpad deviantart 

               Dan has seriously considered not going to school the next day. He knew for absolute sure that it was going to be awful, but he also knew his father would simply murder him if he let his grades slip over something such as bullying. But even if he knew it was out of care for his education, he kinda wished they’d be more easy and understanding, but that’s asking too much out of any type of parent, he figured. He took his sweet time walking to the tube that day, missing the first one that would get him there on time, but he really just… Wasn’t feeling it today. He made it on the next one around, gripping onto the pole to hold himself up as the train jutted down the subway, heading to his school.

               As Dan waited, he realized another figure stood beside him that he recognized. He felt his heart start palpitating in his throat and loudly in his ears when he realized who it was. It was Phil fucking Lester. He stood there, his team jacket over him, and his hood pulled tightly over his head, but he still managed to recognize him. Should Dan say something? Should he stay quiet? Has he even noticed it was him next to him? He figured not, when he noticed Phil had his headphones in. Dan also had his headphones in, but only on bud as the other was broken, and Phil had a full headset cozily wrapped around his head. 

               He quietly was curious was he was listening to. He had some Arctic Monkeys playing on his own, he really wondered what kind of music a football captain would be into. Dan watched as Phil pulled out mp3 player. Ah maybe he could figure out—It was kinda creepy to want to know so badly though. He adverted his eyes but couldn’t take it, he looked again. Mr. Brightside… He liked the Killers? That was really cool, he thought, until he realized Phil had been looking right at him when he peeked to his mp3 player. Dan felt his face turn a deep red, and he quickly turned away. Fuck fuck fuck, if he didn’t notice him before, he definitely noticed him now.

               Phil seemed completely uninterested in him being there. Dan was relieved really, no longer interested in starting up a conversation about music because he was so embarrassed from him just suddenly looking at him with that cold, icy glare he had the first time they met, too. He seemed so soft, so sweet when he was talking to others though… He really hoped he could see that for real one day… Have that boy smiling and laughing while talking to him, being close… But that was nothing more than a probable fever dream. Soon the train stopped, and Phil was the first to get off since they had both been cramped up right against the door. Once Dan stepped out after him, he noticed Phil seemed to be running. Not an extremely fast run, but like a jog, in a rush to get to school without exerting himself too hard.

               Dan didn’t follow because honestly he didn’t need to have a damn asthma attack the second he walked through the school doors, he was way too awfully unfit for that kind of shit. He figured he didn’t want to be in trouble for missing the first class. Probably a grade requirement for the sports team. Or something. It’s not like he could’ve known. The only time he’s ever done sports was in elementary school at the playgrounds and he would get teased for being no good at all. Okay, enough of your brain wondering off again. Focus on getting to school, Dan.

               Dan finally made it to school and headed to his locker, when the bell rang. Great, first period was already over. Oh well, he could just make some excuse with his next class… He opened his locker, and a note fell out of it. How strange… He bent over and lifted it up. There was no name on it… Simply a cat sticker over the flap you open it from. That’s certainly strange. Maybe it’d from a girl? He couldn’t imagine some girl sending him a love letter on the second day. Let alone a fucking letter in the first place since people either taunted or completely ignored him. There was that one girl from yesterday, but she was mostly just offering to help him because he tended to always just looked like some lost puppy.

               Okay, instead of making assumptions, maybe he should actually read it. He removed the cat sticker, and placed it on the inside of his locker. He thought it was rather cute… And then turned back to the envelope to open it up. He pulled out the paper, a neatly folded sheet of lined paper. The hand writing wasn’t too awful either, but it definitely didn’t look like a girls. That made him slightly suspicious of this whole thing… He read it in his head, ignoring all the pushy students stumbling around to their next class.

               ‘Dear Daniel,’ It read, a bit formal. I hope this doesn’t scare you. A random letter from someone you haven’t even had a full conversation with—Rude even, maybe, but I hope you don’t see it that way. I wanted to apologize for scaring you yesterday. I wasn’t threatening you, I simply warned you since my friends can be jerks.’ Oh… Dan quickly realized who it was a felt his face become a bit pale. He read on, ‘It was meant to actually be like, a considerate warning. But some say I come off scary when I don’t express actual facial expressions, which I should’ve done. Um, also for scaring you from slamming my hand against the lockers yesterday to get your attention. I tried to clarify things then, but you ran off.’

‘I left your pencil that you dropped while running yesterday in your locker through the slit. At the bottom of your locker should also be a new wallet. I went shopping for dinner last night for my mother, and found this wallet at the shop and thought it’d be kind retribution, since Adam told me what they did to yours. Sorry about that. Enjoy your new wallet, at least. And be more careful with your school supplies! Those are very easy to lose track of, let me tell you.’

‘Last thing before I completely end this letter, I saw you at the cemetery last night. I didn’t say anything since I noticed you were probably hiding for a reason. Sorry for whoever you’ve lost. I lost my father about a year ago and I know how hard it can be. I always visit his grave and talk a little before I head on home, and when I was there, I figured you had been doing the same. There’s a flower shop called Lady Martins Flower Shoppe, its right outside the school grounds, I always go there for my flowers, I even recommend it.’

‘Whoops, I just realized I’ve written too much and have probably only annoyed you since you probably don’t like me cause of my friends. I don’t blame you. Bye.

                                                                                                                               -Phil Lester’

               Dan looked down to the bottom of the locker and he was right. His black mechanical pencil, and a new wallet sat there, and Dan couldn’t help but fluster a bit. Phil Lester wrote him a letter and holy crap he was the sweetest person ever. His friends might be shite, but he seemed like an absolute sweetheart and it made his cheeks flush. He placed his pencil away, and looked to the wallet. It was a lot studier than the other, and it was a nice black. Nervously he put it away in his pocket. Maybe that’s why he saw him rushing to school, to place this in his locker since he didn’t want to actual confront him. He was quite nervous in his presence, so it made sense… He folded the sheet up, and stuffed it in the inside of his coat pocket, wanting to keep it close to him.

               It wasn’t some love letter, but to him it almost felt like one. He wished he could think of some way to thank him for what he’s done, but he didn’t know which locker was his. Maybe he could slip him something in one of their classes together… Or catch him afterschool while avoiding the other two. Well… The lovely thought of avoiding the other two didn’t last long because there they were, right over his shoulders.

               “So I guess this emo fuck can smile every once in a while.” Adam said, placing a menacing hand on Dan’s shoulder.

               “Seems so, Adam. What, did your boyfriend tell you how everything’s gonna be awight, huh? How he’s gonna coddle and protect you hmmm?” Joseph cooed, pretending to make a kissy-kissy face.

               “Quite being jerks for two minutes, idiots.” A girl’s voice sounded. Adam and Joseph turned, and Dan nervously shut his locker and turned as well. She had long twin ponytails, nice blonde hair and a very bright red lipstick which made her stick out quite a bit. Her light jacket read the schools name, and had a tennis racquet under it. A tennis team member? “Let the kid get to his class already.”

               “Aww Louise, come on. We’re only having a little fun, sweetheart~” Adam said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Louise, apparently, shoved his arm off.

               “Not your sweetheart now, or ever.” She rolled her eyes. “Now go off before I tell coach.”

               They both quickly nodded to that, and headed off to class, giving Dan a nasty glare before. Louise took a deep breath, and turned to Dan. She was a bit large and curvy, her hair tied in pigtails were curly, and she had a rather noticeable gap in between her front teeth, and gave Dan a smile. “Sorry about those idiots. My names Louise. Captain of the Girls Tennis team!”

               “U-um, hello…” Dan shook the hand that Louise stuck out, nervously, and retracted the hand back to his pocket. “I’m Dan.”

               “Oh, don’t be so nervous Dan!” She exclaimed, smacking his back “Stand up straight and show some back bone, will ya? They’ll stop bothering you if you can manage that, yeah?”

               Dan yelped slightly. Fuck, she was too strong, he thought rubbing his back that actually really hurt… “I would if I could,”

               “Of course you can! Look, I’ll sit with you at lunch and teach you a thing or two, yeah? See you!” She quickly headed off to class then. Dan sighed exasperated like. This place was just way too strange… Lunchtime rolled around and he headed out the back of the school, near the track so he could be alone. He was munching on a bag of chips he had in his bag, sitting quietly. Until he was interrupted immediately by the familiar girls voice.

               “DAN! I told you to meet me at lunch, you nerd.” Louise said, dropping down beside him, crunching on an apple.

               “Ah… Sorry, it slipped my mind,” He lied. He felt awkward trying to look for her and preferred being alone during lunch anyways… He nervously shifted around against the ground. “Why did you want to see me again…?”

               “Right! I wanted to go ahead and teach you a thing or two about having more confidence in yourself! Hah!” Louise smiled brightly, chewing into her apple again.

               “That’s a kind offer, but I think I’ll have to take a pass.” He said, closing up his bag.

               “Oh come on, don’t be so scared. Let be your guide! Talking to girls, or boys if you like! And how to work on avoiding bullies all that stuff! You definitely look like you need it.” She cheekily teased, poking his cheek.

               Dan shook his head, standing up. “I don’t need any help.”

               Louise pouted slightly. Then, she stood up. “Fine, but in case you ever change your mind~” She slipped a piece of paper into Dan’s jeans, and left.

               Dan groaned, and pulled the paper out to look at it. It was her phone number. Yeah, as if he ever needed it or was even gonna call her. He stuffed it back into his pocket not wanting to just liter it, and then heading to his next class early. He figured he could probably wait in the hall and hopefully avoid anyone by being the first in the class once the teachers back…

               School ended not fast enough for Dan, and he stayed back in his last class. He waited for all the students to mostly flood out before waving off his teacher, and stepping out of the classroom. The hall was completely empty—Except for Phil. Who was standing down the hall, seeming to be waiting for someone? He caught a glimpse of Dan, and then approached him, causing Dan’s heartrate to go through the roof. “Hey, Howell.” He said, a hand in his pocket.

               “Ah- Erm—Hi,” He flustered. “Dan—You… You can just call me Dan… It’s fine.” Dan corrected, not really sure why he kept using his surname.

               “Ah, alright. Hey Dan.” Phil leaned against the lockers all cool like and Dan’s flustered heart couldn’t look away, tightly gripping onto his backpack strap. “I hope you got my letter.”

               “Ye—Yes! I did!” Whoops, that was a bit too loud. “I—I mean, yes. Thank you… It really means a lot, I don’t deserve a present from someone so um, out of the blue—”

               “It’s fine. You probably needed something to hold your ID and stuff so I didn’t want you to try to scramble together for one. Also, I really hope I’m not intimidating you too much. I really don’t bite,” He chuckled softly.

               Oh fuck he had the cutest laugh and he was talking to him AND laughing WHAT THE FUCK. “Oh- No, it’s fine. I’m just nervous since I just moved here…”

               “Where are you from? I actually came here two years ago from Rawtenstall. I was a sophomore when I started here too.” Phil said, twirling a pen around in his fingers.

               That explains his accent being the way it was… “Wokingham,” He answered, a bit too quickly and suddenly. “My—Grandmother was buried here, so… We moved here to be closer to her.”

               “Ah, that’s why you were at the cemetery.” Phil realized, thinking for a moment. “Sorry about that. I bet you really miss her,” Phil quickly changed subject, trying not to hit a nerve or anything. “You seem chill, really. Sorry the guys don’t take a moment to get to know someone before messing around with them. Once I graduate I’m gonna be more than glad never to have to talk to them again.”

               “No one really does, its fine…” Dan felt really awkward, fuck he really didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to look too much into Phil’s big eyes because he’s get even more red faced.

               Phil felt a bit bad when he responded like that, and then thought of something. “Ah- I saw you were interested in what I was listening to this morning. Do you like the Killers?”

               Dan jumped slightly at that question. “Erm, yes…! They’re a really good band, I was just listening to Arctic Monkeys this morning and was curious looking over to your mp3 player…”

               “Arctic Monkeys too? You got good taste. I wouldn’t mind talking to you more, so…” Phil thought, and then stopping twirling the pen, ripping a piece of paper off the crumpled sheet in his pocket. He wrote down his number and email, and handed it over to Dan. “I wish we had more time, but I better get home.” Phil left then, walking off. Dan felt like he was melting into the floor slumped on the locker.

               The moment Dan got home he grabbed his phone immediately. He waited impatiently for the phone to pick up before speaking. “Louise, I think I’m gonna really need that help in confidence boosting.”