#can you believe i'd never written a coffee shop au

[adipostsstuff]

Omg I loved the valentine's writing so much, thank you :D ✨️

I'd love to hear all your thoughts/process -- I really liked the attention to detail (references to canon convos, Yuno being in the theater club, "my boyfriend is a kind person," etc) while also including some new details (new named characters, details on the siblings, stuff like that). It was so fun!!

Yay you asked about it! I had so many thoughts going through my head when writing this but couldn’t say them during writing (it was a great prompt thank you for it even though you are very predictable /lh) and I needed an excuse to dump them all so thank you :)

I had a couple of ideas at first. The first was a coffee shop au where Yuno works at a café and the other two are regulars, but that one felt a bit cheap and I don't really care about coffee shop aus anyway (I generally won't write something I personally wouldn't want to read). The second was an early trial 2 fic where the three of them are in Shidou's cell and Shidou went out for a while do they talk until he gets back. The problem with that one was that Kotoko's attacks would inevitably come up, which would result in Yuno and Futa having some not nice things to say about her, and even if Mahiru were to defend her she would be outnumbered 2 to 1 and it might end up feeling a bit overpowering, especially since I probably would have made that one Futa POV, and I wasn't sure if it would go against the no undue hate rule. To be clear, I quite like Kotoko, I find her amusing, but it may be difficult to separate my opinions with the characters' and there is no way I can have Yuno and Futa be nice to her as that would be out of character, which is something I cannot stand even in other people's works, let alone mine. The idea to try something with Futa's sister and Mahiru's best friend being beauticians was my third idea, and the one I ended up doing. I don't actually believe they work in the same place, but I have to make the story begin somehow, and it's not like it contradicts anything in canon, so I ran with it. I did really want to try and get all three of them in the fic despite the prompt not requiring it and this was one of the few ways I can think of since, like you said, aside from Mahiru they wouldn't really seek each other out of their own accord in or out of the prison, so it would need to be a chance encounter of a sort.

I chose Yuno for the main POV because I felt that she would be the easiest perspective to write in terms of her being the most realistic of the three and therefore the most likely to describe the events as they are. Of course, her personality and inner monologue would be more difficult to get down, especially because of how misinterpreted she is, so I was somewhat cautious about that. Based on the audience reception I seem to have done it alright, so I'm glad.

I knew from the start that I wanted to have Yuno and Mahiru talking from beginning to end, with Futa only showing up for a short time in the middle. Both have reasons why they would want a beautician's appointment so it would be easy to set them up from the start, but because of his misogyny (sorry about that but you know it's true. Fucking "girl talk is boring" coming from a Twitter user) Futa is unlikely to stick around. I think he was still there long enough to leave an impression. I actually wanted to include another section where Futa would talk more about his childhood and how he spent much of it in the beauty parlour (before Sayori was hired, so she wouldn't know) (I think that's a headcanon I got from you actually hehe) but once I'd written the whole thing I couldn't figure out how to fit that in and his sister and been gone for a long time, so I ended up not doing it. Plus I needed to start prioritising my studies.

In my first draft Mahiru's beautician didn't have a name at all and only had two lines of dialogue: her first line, which was originally just her talking to Mahiru, and the line where she says "I've never heard Kajiyama-senpai speak like that before." It felt a bit awkward to have her say just one line in the middle if she was basically ignored for the rest of the work so I gave her a slightly bigger role (while still focusing on the canon cast. Usually I only include OC and canon interactions when no canon character can fulfil a necessary role) and for that it qas easier to refer to her by a name rather than 'Mahiru's stylist' every time. Also I already thought up of her personality (cheerful and gossipy, similar to Mahiru) so it would have been a bit of a waste not to include her. (Side note: before writing this I generally ignored this but didn't she give Mahiru love advice? I won't assume she meant for anything bad to happen but if Mahiru was taking advice from this woman then I think it's worth putting her under suspicion. Mahiru's view on love comes from the romanticised ideal that gets sold the public, so I wouldn't be surprised if her friend had also bought into it. I imagined her to be slightly older than Mahiru but not much, and I'm unsure if she herself has been in a relationship before so I left it vague, though if she hadn't that does bring into question Mahiru's claim that she is a love expert. Not that Mahiru would question that. Might make that into its own post.)

I intended for the reveal that Yuno's beautician was actually Futa's sister to be a bit of a plot twist. I'm not sure how well that worked, but considering you knew who you asked for seeing a ginger beautician might have raised some flags. I don't really mind, it wasn't a major thing. I imagined her to be considerably older than Futa, to the point where she would become a substitute mother figure in the absence of his birth mother, which I suppose would be possible at any age, but I thought being much older would exemplify that. (The age I put here would make her older than Shidou, which I'd funny to think about considering how he calls himself old (Shidou is NOT FUCKING OLD HE IS YOUNG AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL STOP CALLING HIM OLD-ahem)). In terms of personality, I thought she would be somewhat similar to Futa due to similar environment, but much less pathetic lol. Due to needing to step up fairly young she became pretty responsible, and she is not very talkative despite her job, keeping things very professional unless she's talking to family, of course. I'm an only child, so I don't have much experience with sibling dynamics, but I imagine their relationship would be a mostly playful while secretly caring one, though neither of them would admit it (also from you).

I needed to include a moment where Mahiru talks about love, it wouldn't be Mahiru if she didn't. Half way through, when I realised I didn't do that yet, I jotted down a section where she asks Yuno about it and inserted it where it fit. I also wanted to bring to attention how unhealthy her ideals of love are, both to herself and to her boyfriend, and how she tries to push them onto others anyways, the dramatic irony was too good to miss and I was giggling the entire time while writing it. Yuno, being more... rational, shall I say, than her, realises it but due to her own issues and insecurities as well and not wanting to get involved she doesn't say anything (what I mean by most straightforward perspective). Her friend is as bad as she is, that's why her views went unchecked for so long.

I love putting references to canon in my work, it helps me keep in character. My approach to fanfic is generally take as much from canon as possible and fill in the gaps with what fits, so when discussing hobbies or school I made sure to include details like that and I tried to use dialoguethat was present in the source as well. I even referenced the This Is How To Be In Love With You locations post as well as researched on education systems in Japan to get an idea of how to write that (I ended up not using the latter very much. Still worth knowing).

A while after I started this, I realised the had parallels with each other and... kinda went a little crazy over it. (Listen, Yuno and Futa are opposites of each other, the way they approach life is very different yet in many ways they are also the same guys-) So I wanted to bring it up a little bit here, which is another reason why Yuno is a good POV and she is most likely to catch that while the others will more likely deliberately ignore it due to preconceived dislike. It does do into waxing poetic a bit and I wasn't sure if it was a bit cringe, but it's one of the things you liked about it, so I'm happy.

Initially I thought this would be the only meeting these three would have in this universe; there is something poetic about meeting someone only once, never to think about them again, yet that interaction was still meaningful. While this I'd what happened to Futa, ultimately I felt bad about breaking everyone up, so I decided on a whim that Mahiru would approach Yuno to be her friend because it wouldn't be too out of line for her. I am really proud of that last line.

For now, that's it. For my first finished fanfiction and my first Milgram fanfiction, I am actually quite pleased with that. I hope to be able to make more in the future once I'm done with school!

[cruelsister-moved2]

hey kind of weird question but i saw a post of yours from a couple years ago while searching some random tags and you mentioned having some opinions about anais mitchell (presumably her recorings of the child ballads?) and the whole coffee shop au-ification of balladry (particularly tam lin) and that resonated so hard with me so i just thought i'd ask you to elaborate more on that because i genuinely want to hear what you have to say. also i fucking love angela carter

oh man... I mean first of all I just reject the term 'child ballad' out of hand nowadays because like fjc was some random racist eugenicist middle class american academic borderline-hobbyist who never even heard a folk song in the wild and basically just compiled stuff other people had already written down. so even if I pretend to subscribe to the ownership of the collector, which I don't, we never refer to 'sharp ballads' or 'percy ballads' or even 'burns ballads', despite the fact that burns was actively re/writing his. add to that the fact that like a third of child's collection came from a specific, named woman (Anna Gordon/Mrs Brown of Falkland) and you start to get angry at the anonymisation&dehumanisation of 'the folk', especially when you learn that child's ballads made him rich yet socially humiliated mrs brown. she (along with numerous other women + burns as a kind of anomalous man) was working actively from inside a tradition, but we instead default to the authority of the prejudiced outsider because of romantic beliefs about the naivety of 'the folk'. (if anything, child actively harmed the tradition with his completely arbitrary subjectivity + not collecting any fucking tunes...)

the very notion of folk music as just this organic wellspring that just emerges naturally from a people-group is a victorian/edwardian fantasy concocted by nationalists in order to reclaim said material, both for profit and for nationalism reasons. objectively speaking, someone or several someones composed that material & many of them were most likely women. the idea of claiming that folk music 'belongs' to all of 'us' (and 'us' at least in its original intention meaning white english people or white people of english extraction) because several generations of performers put their own spin on it is like saying the beatles' copyright really belongs to all of us because lennon & mccartney co wrote them. I'm not arguing for copyright law here but like the recognition of folksong ownership is completely broken in popular conception and it's v much a case of the idea that something belongs to 'everyone' is erasing the actual individuals/groups whose cultural property it is. (+ the living folk tradition regularly accepts new songs of known authorship, and operates a paradigm of collective ownership that is really ill served by the modern idea of intellectual property that can only make something a specific someone's or no one's at all)

so in THAT context, the girlbossification and uwuification of balladry by an outsider (who believes themselves to be an insider) is just kind of grotesque. firstly you're working from a canon which was selected and heavily modified by a victorian man to suit his delicate sensibilities, and then projecting like modern western feminist sensibilities on them. I've seen like 'feminist reworkings' of songs which lament women's helplessness, or exist for mothers to warn daughters about sexual assault. this is where the angela carter comparison comes in bc shes like the patron saint against the 'feminism is when women slay' school of folklore retelling and also someone who was both working really hard not to claim ownership of the stories she collected or to claim thematic ownership with her interpretations, but also writing her own 'folklore retellings' that actually comprehend and work with the deep themes at play rather than being like hm it's kind of problematic that the prince couldn't remember what cinderella looked like (fwiw most cinderella-esque stories are explicitly about the resourcefulness of the girl, and the prince - w his attached status+possessions - is literally just there to be her reward lol kind of a win for feminism idk..)

it's the belief that everyone in the past, especially if they were illiterate, was stupid. not to Survivals Theory but I recently saw this song from an irish traveller woman who claimed it was in the bible which everyone found funny but it literally heavily resembles a story from the apocryphal infancy gospel of thomas, which incidentally was extant as old irish poetry c.700 CE. like the anais mitchell girlies always have this approach that they're the first ones to recognise how great this repertoire is, or something. and her approach is very like oh I've discovered this lost hidden tradition etc although ironically she herself is part of a historic tradition of north americans ripping off martin carthy LOL 🤭

sorry this is like a huge thing for me and i kind of ran out of steam to get into it all but i appreciate the question n i hope at least some of that means something to you<3

[smolstrawberrychara]

Klance Au Month - Day 1 - Coffee Shops

This was not supposed to be so long. And I can in no way guarantee I will do prompts everyday, but I definitely want to do some! (rip my other fics)

Lance from Astro:

Keith gets soaked when he goes out for a run in the rain so hits up a coffee shop for shelter. Here he finds a boy claiming to know him and a barista who wants nothing more than for him, and his dripping wet self, to leave. When Keith realises he has no money, the stranger steps in...

Also available on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17626292

Keith had always been impulsive. As a kid that meant punching the little shit who decided to steal his crayon. As a teenager, it was skipping classes when there was something far more interesting happening across town. And as a student, it was going out as soon as he even glimpsed the sun’s rays peeking out between the sheets of grey cloud. Yeah, Keith had calmed down a lot in his old age. Or maybe he’d just learnt to deal with the frequently irritating occurrences of daily life better. That’s what Shiro would say, patting Keith on the back whilst wearing that well-practiced big brother smile that said ‘I’m proud of you,’ that Keith read as ‘please punch me’.

Shiro had introduced Keith to running. At the time, Keith hadn’t been to class in three weeks. Just moped about the house all day like a lonely vampire. But the sun had been shining and Shiro along with it. He’d dragged Keith off the couch and shoved him into some running shoes. Five years later, here Keith was, shorts on, headphones in, hair up. And the sun was shining gloriously for a cool February morning.

That was, when he left.

Now it was pouring like they’d suffered a monthlong a draught. They hadn’t. It had been raining on and off for two weeks now, and every day had been more miserable than the first. So, when Keith spotted the golden rays in the morning, you’d think he’d realise that it would be brief. That objects in motion, stay in motion. Nope. Keith ran out all guns blazing. And now, he was currently dripping wet as if he’d dived into the deep end of the pool, clothes and all.

His feet squelched in his trainers, and every foot fall blasted muddy water up his calves. His skin was covered in a thin membrane of sweat, rain and dirt and his clothes chafed with every slight movement. He huffed down the path, river on his right, houses on his left. He was exactly halfway around his usual route and this seemed to only encourage the storm, wind picking up and sweeping cold tendrils between the now permanent creases off his shirt.

Panting along the path, he finally got out onto the concrete of the quay. Usually it was bustling with tourists and locals alike. Boats lined the canal, rusted tractors lay abandoned above them, kids rolled around the grass and parents yelled at them to keep away from the edge. One day, Keith hoped to see one fall in. Trying not to laugh at the thought, he powered into the main hub. Outdoor seating lay around untouched, shop doors were pulled shut against yellow light and not a soul was in sight on the roads. Keith was weaving around bollards, slowing his pace to avoid slipping on the cobbles, when something caught his eye.

A door swung shut, light bouncing off the shining window. Just beyond, a figure hugged a trench coat tight to their body and slipped away into the silver stripes. Keith looked at the building. It was a modest one, coloured a pale blue with flaking paint and flower boxes full of drooping flowers. White plastic chairs were propped forward against similar tables, water collecting in pools across the surface. The window was steamed up, and the streaks warping the glass were painted with licks of orange from the indoor lights. It looked warm, and the rush of air from the door had the smell of coffee winding up Keith’s nose like smoke. Maybe he could afford to wait out the rain inside?

Keith swung into the café and was immediately assaulted with heat. He shivered on instinct, dragging his feet against the welcome mat as he looked around the room. It was small. White tables and colourful chairs cluttered the space. The counter was painted bright turquoise and held large glass domes filled with pretty pastry’s and delicate cakes. Beyond it was a loud machine, standing sturdy like a bodyguard and squirting out drinks with high-pitched screeches and hisses. Lining the window was a honey coloured table, with tall metal stools standing bright red against it. Keith made a beeline for them, swiping a hand across his face and shaking out his hair. Removing his head phones, he dropped them down on the bench and dug his phone out of his soaked shorts. That can’t have been good for it.

“Sir, you’re dripping.”

Keith jumped at being addressed. Behind him, a thin man glared at him with piercing eyes. Blond hair was sleeked back against his head so tightly that Keith could see every undulation of his scalp. Undulation being a bit of an overstatement to say it was more like his head was perfectly round and there were precisely zero dips in which to undulate with. Everything about him was startling perfect now Keith thought about it. Well-kept nails, creaseless uniform, apron free of any kind of stain.

“Oh, I, uh…” Keith looked down to find a puddle forming. Oops?

The man made a noise. All nose and disregard. Keith watched him raise a single, well-plucked eyebrow before leaving. Keith shuddered. Maybe this was the wrong place to dry off?

He placed his phone on the table and grabbed a few napkins from a pot nearby. Drying off as best he could he sat down.

“Keith?”

He turned to the voice. Behind him, on one of the small square tables, was a boy. He had curly brown hair stuffed under a wooly hat, tanned skin stretched over pointy features and curious blue eyes that narrowed their way towards Keith. Leaning forward, he tilted his head at Keith and pursed his lips. Then they were suddenly splitting into a wide curve and Keith realised it was his turn to speak. He instinctively opened his mouth, waiting to say a name, but it never arrived. He realised too late he had no idea who this person was. He clapped his mouth shut again, dread filling his stomach. The boy seemed about Keith’s age, and did know his name. All evidence pointed to them being at least passing acquaintances. But Keith couldn’t place him anywhere. So, he did the normal thing and just stared.

“It’s me, Lance.” The boy said, raising his eyebrows. Keith continued to stare.

“From astro?”

Astro? Astronomy? Keith took the astronomy module. It was his favourite in fact. He loved stars and the mysterious objects space tried to hide from Earth. He never missed a class. And this person? He took it too? Keith brought the lecture theatre up to the forefront of his mind. Keith liked to sit at the front, near the edge - no-one to block his view and easy to make a quick exit. People rarely sat near him, and to be fair, people rarely turned up to lectures these days. How was Keith supposed to recall him?

“I’m in your tutorial class.”

Ah. The vision changed to a small classroom, whiteboard at the front with a permanent dent in the middle that gathered various conspiracy theories. The course leader, a shrewd rat-like woman with thin rimmed glasses, stood at the front writing equations. There was the guy who only showed up the first day and never again. The girl who always did her make-up before the start – oddly, without a mirror. The two guys who always arrived late. That first day when one of them turned and introduced himself to Keith. Oh. The blob cleared into what resembled a human before it blurred together with reality. Lance. From astro.

“There.” The guy sighed, “nice of you to remember me.”

Keith shrugged. He was beyond politeness these days. It’s not like they’d spoken more than that one time on the first day. Why would Keith remember him? Just as he settled himself back in his seat, Lance was talking again.

“How come you were out running in this?”

Keith let out a growl, “well it wasn’t like this when I left.”

The boy snickered behind him and Keith found himself turning toward the noise despite himself. Lance’s nose was wrinkled with the effort, eyes crinkling at the sides as he hid it in the table.

“Fair.” He said, “guess some of us would check the forecast first though.”

Keith rolled his eyes, “like you can’t just look out the window.”

The words were more for himself than anyone else, he wasn’t planning on starting a conversation, hadn’t planned to see anyone he knew. So, he was already looking back at the rain dripping down the glass when Lance snorted.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mused when Keith regarded him again. He shook his head, trying to hide his smile behind a hand, “you’re just- not what I expected.”

“Excuse me?”

Expected? What was Lance doing getting expectations of him? They just met.

“No, no! I didn’t mean, like not in a bad way. I just…”

He bit his lip, face the faintest tint of red. Keith found it irritating. People always made some kind of assumption when they met him. He used to play to it – if people thought he was a bad kid then he was going to be a bad kid. He remembered Shiro’s sigh, the lines in his brow that were verging on permanent, the sadness in his voice when he said ‘why is this the one thing you won’t rebel against?’ It stuck with Keith. It was such a strange thing to say. Keith always misbehaved. He refused to be told how to be - where to sit in the dinner hall, how to dress properly to impress foster parents, when to smile even when you didn’t mean it. He rebelled against everything.

And that’s when he realised what Shiro meant. People were always telling him he was no good. They didn’t even know him, and yet he was labelled a ‘difficult’ child. Not a kid for ‘first timers’. He would struggle through school, make trouble in the workplace and never amount to anything. But that wasn’t true. Keith was smart. He believed in rules – when they were fair. And he knew that smiling didn’t make you okay, just fooled other people into thinking you were. Shiro made a damn good point. Keith was just toeing the line. So, he quit lying. And

did what he wanted. Like a true rebel, he went to class, studied hard, smiled at Shiro’s lame jokes and let the words of others run off his back like water.

But above all, he refused to acknowledge anyone who paid him, or anyone else, that treatment. Which now meant Lance. He turned to the window.

“I meant I thought you were smart!”

And now he thought Keith was dumb?

“No wait! That didn’t come out right! I meant…”

Lance sounded kind of desperate. Shame. Keith wasn’t going to turn around. He sighed, flicking a menu over on the table.

“Sorry.”

It was the tiniest noise. More like a whimper. It didn’t really match the rest of their conversation. Keith dared a glance back. Lance was frowning down at his notebook, eyebrows in a furrow like he was cursing the thing. That was different. No-one ever used to apologise. Well, they never meant it. They never looked that upset about it, like it hurt them to hurt someone else. Keith opened his mouth to speak.

“You gonna order anything?”

Keith glanced up to find smooth head looming. He looked as if Keith was a grave inconvenience, a stain on his perfect coffee-shop world.

“If you don’t order anything, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Keith breathed through the irritation, squeezing his hands into fists. The waiter had a fair point, but he didn’t have to make it with such disdain. Keith was still a customer, he just hadn’t bought anything yet.

“Alright,” Keith mumbled, stepping up to reach into his back pocket. His hand slid against his ass, and then straight down to his thigh. Crap. These were his running shorts. He had no money.

Keith looked at the waiter. The waiter looked at Keith. Keith looked at the window. The rain threw itself against the glass like it was going to attack him. He shuddered.

“I’ll buy.”

Keith spun around. Lance was leaning against the back of his chair, fixing the waiter with a face dripping with raw, smug energy. His card sat between two slender fingers and he twirled it in the air.

The waiter sighed, clearly uncaring for the whole ordeal. Keith on the other hand, was still in shock.

“No, no, it’s alright.” He said firmly, gathering up his few belongings, “I’ll just go.”

“No.” Lance interrupted, “I’ll buy.”

His eyes were resolute, daring Keith to argue. Keith took the bait.

“No. I don’t want to owe you.”

“And you won’t.” Lance said lightly, following the waiter to the counter. “It’s an apology, for speaking with my foot in my mouth.”

He stopped to look up at the chalk board. Drinks were written in curly white lettering, with pastel coloured sketches drawn next to them.

“I’ll have a hot chocolate, please.”

Fingers clicked across the till.

“With marshmallows and cream?” The clerk asked in a bored voice.

Lance turned to face Keith then, elbows leaning back on the counter. He poured his gaze over Keith, right from his head down to his toes. Keith felt exposed, stomach swooping at the glint in Lance’s eye. Too busy fighting the heat spreading through his body, he didn’t get the chance to interrupt when Lance was speaking again.

“Oh yeah. Add extra sprinkles too, I want it extra festive.”

Keith let his mouth fall slack. Where the hell did he get that idea from? For one, Keith drank coffee. Black. And he didn’t do all the fancy stuff. He wanted a plain and simple drink and he did not want to draw attention. Lance on the other hand, drew all of Keith’s. He had a huge grin plastered across his face as he threw his head back laughing. Round-head rolled his eyes, dialling up the order and sparing Lance one of his disdainful glares.

“I’ll bring it to your table.”

“Thanks, Lotor!”

Then Lance was flouncing back to his seat and Keith was still standing next to his own chair. What had just happened?

“You didn’t need to apologise.” Keith rushed. Lance looked up at him, blankly. Then a smirk pulled against his lip.

“So, you already forgave me?”

“No?”

Had Keith forgiven him? He couldn’t really remember what he was apologising for now. The whole… event, had him a little bit lost.

“So, then you’ll need a drink.” Lance said solemnly.

“No, wait.”

Lance grinned. Keith struggled. With this conversation, with this person, this whole situation.

“Take a seat, Keith.”

The chair opposite Lance moved out on his own, like a ghost. Keith approached with caution. He did not sit, but Lance shifted when he arrived, that same grin plastered on his thin lips.

“Come on, sit with me.” He crowed, swaying side to side.

Keith eyed the seat cautiously.

“Look, I really didn’t mean to offend you.”

He was looking down at his book again, pen drawing absent circles in the margin of his work.

“I was hoping we could be friends.”

Keith sighed. He shouldn’t sit down, shouldn’t be indulging in this. But despite that fact, Keith flopped down. Lance perked up then, shoulders bouncing. But before he could speak, Keith interrupted him “I get it. You didn’t mean to offend me. But I still can’t accept your drink.”

Lance considered this for a second. “Okay. How about, in exchange for the drink, you help me with my astro coursework?”

He tapped his pen against his notebook and Keith saw that there was also a textbook lying open above it. There were several papers strewn across the table and pens hiding between layers. Lance himself had pen marks all over his fingers and grey loops below his eyes.

“Fine.”

That was enough for another one of those blinding grins. Lance seemed abundant with them.

“So, how come you recognised me?” Keith asked, wanting a distraction from the radiance.

Lance gave a little wiggle and Keith could tell he’d stepped on a landmine. With eyebrows bouncing he sent Keith a mischievous grin, ‘oh, I never forget a good-looking face.”

Keith nearly choked. Was he being flirted with right now? By a strange boy who shone too brightly for a coffee shop? A strange boy he in fact knew and had somehow missed in the however many weeks they’d been studying that course?

“Clearly I do.”

Lance’s brows froze in their strange hooks and Keith realised with striking alarm that he’d said that out loud. Oh god. Keith really was too well adjusted to life alone. Maybe he should listen to Shiro more and make some friends? Lance’s face was still frozen on his and Keith pulled at his shirt. Curse the heating in this place. He really shouldn’t have sat down. He glanced back to the window. Was rain really that bad?

“Hot chocolate.”

Keith jolted as a cup and saucer landed on the table with a loud clink.  Liquid swished out the side as the tidal wave settled, swirl of cream sloshing above. A light dusting of cocoa covered the top, pink marshmallows cut into the shape of hearts thrown haphazardly across the drink. The waiter levelled them with a look.

“With extra festive.”

“Thank you so very much.” Lance said through a giggle. The waiter rolled his eyes, sweeping back to his post at the counter. Keith stared at the drink. Then he stared back up at Lance. The boy was just sparkling eyes above two hands that covered his entire face all the way up to his spiky nose. Keith shook his head fighting off a smirk. He picked up the drink, lifted it to his lips and stared right into Lance’s glistening eyes as he took a sip.

Lance snorted.

“Perfectly matches your aesthetic.”

Keith shrugged, now losing the fight against his lips. “I dunno, I think it’s a bit understated.”

“You’re right.’ Lance said, poking his pen into Keith’s face, ‘it’s just not enough. Shall I call Lotor back and get him to bring us some glitter.”

Keith shook his head. “I’m thinking sparklers.”

Lance burst out laughing. He was all teeth and no eyes and Keith found the noise buzzing in his chest too. He quickly swigged his drink before it could be set free. The taste wasn’t bad either, if he was being honest. Sweet and creamy, tickling his lip as he drank. He was quite content until, one of the marshmallows rolled off and hit him in the eye. Keith frowned, glanced up and saw Lance pretending to read his textbook whilst barely containing more giggles. Keith shook his head but couldn’t shake the warmth in his cheeks.

“So, I’m confused on Quasars.”

Keith frowned, putting down his drink.

“Who isn’t?” He said, shuffling around to get a look at what Lance was reading. After a moment of no more words, Keith looked up and found Lance staring.

“What?”

“Oh!” Lance whipped back around to his book, “It’s just, uh, it’s nice.”

“What?”

“Hearing you say that.”

“What, ‘who isn’t’?”

Lance nodded, still not meeting Keith’s eye.

“Yeah. Guess I thought I was the only one.”

Keith didn’t tend to speak to the people in his class. That’s how he didn’t know Lance. He just kept to himself. But that meant he was privy to his course mate’s conversations. Namely, that nearly every topic they’d covered since the start of term had at least somebody complaining. To Keith, it was a given that absolutely no-one truly knew what they were doing on their degree.

Lance wasn’t Keith though. Lance didn’t just talk to strangers, he went out of his way to make friends with them. Those kinds of people always eluded Keith. Shiro was the same – he took in Keith, and from their first meeting, Keith had been convinced he was some kind of next level angel. But whilst Shiro was adept at caring for others, Keith discovered over time he struggled letting other people look after him. It was something Keith hadn’t had much of an issue with – once someone was actually willing to do it, he liked being looked after. But not everyone was Keith. And just because they weren’t Keith, that didn’t make them perfect. Or evil. And with the words Lance just spoke, it occurred to Keith, that he might have misjudged him. The thought made his stomach twist in a guilt he immediately wanted to fix it.  

“Trust me you’re not.” He said firmly. “Everyone struggles, you’re doing fine.”

Lance looked up at him then, lips parted as his pen fell to the paper in a dull thud. Keith immediately wanted to claw the words back. He should have thought more before speaking. They were far more intense out loud. Almost threateningly so. Keith scraped the barrel for some sort of distraction. Steer them away from his creepy intenseness. “Why-uh, why’d you think that?”

Lance’s stare held a second longer – a second that burned itself straight through Keith. Then he was reclaiming his pen and speaking again with a sigh, “my housemates. They just- they get it all, y’know? One lecture and they’re good to go.”

“I feel dead after half an hour.” Keith said honestly.

There were those who seemed to absorb everything, regurgitating hours later and sweeping through their exams. But Keith was not one of them. And even then, he had a suspicion he only saw what they wanted him to see – not the hours they studied the night before. Maybe even years– some people were that dedicated after all.

Lance let out a short laugh. ‘Me too. Alfor opens his mouth and I’m just dead.”

Keith snickered and soon they were discussing the ins and outs of all their lecturers. It was fun. Keith found talking to Shiro about his disdain for academics was like bouncing water balloons off a concrete wall. He was never impressed. Lance, on the other hand, became invested. His enthusiasm grew with his pitch, hands thrown around in fury as he recalled a particularly awful lecture that wouldn’t have been out of place playing in the back of a hearse. Keith had said as much and Lance had laughed so hard, he spat coffee everywhere. The waiter, Lotor, as Lance called him, was far from enthusiastic about their patronage. He wiped up the spill with a huff, eyes sharp enough to cut glass. As soon as he was gone, Lance fell apart laughing telling Keith about the time he put glue in Lotor’s hair at primary school and the other was yet to forgive him. Lance had zero regrets and Keith would probably commit the same crime now.

The more they talked the more Keith found himself watching Lance’s mouth. He noticed now, how animated it was. It could go from a small ‘o’ to a wide-open grin in a blink of an eye. His teeth were bright white, lined up like crooked little houses along his gums. Then there were his lips. They were pink and looked soft and every so often Lance ran his tongue along them. Keith wanted to do that too. The thought surprised him, and he quickly found somewhere else to look. He could blame the warm café for his reddening cheeks.

Keith hadn’t kept track of time, he hadn’t felt the need when he was happily filling the moment. That was until he heard the door chime and noticed they were the last guests in the café. Must have been a long moment.

Lotor appeared at Lance’s back, a looming vampire.

“Five minute ‘til closing.” He said curtly. Lance jumped at the proximity.

“Jesus,” he breathed, holding a hand to his heart, “does he even have footsteps?”

Keith shook his head, looking out the window. “Wheels for feet.”

Lance laughed beside him. It was a nice sound, loud without even trying. It was like it burst out from nowhere to set the room alight. The more Keith heard it, the more he wanted to hear it. He was stuck in a vicious cycle that he didn’t particularly want to leave.

“Which way you heading?” Lance asked, shuffling his belongings together. The rain was still trailing down the windows and the wind rattled the windows, demanding its next victim. Keith sighed, as he got to his feet.

“Penny Road.”

“Oh! I’m just by the roundabout!’

Maybe he didn’t have to leave quite yet?

“I, uh…” Lance continued, talking to the ground. He was rubbing his neck, now fully dressed in his navy blue rain coat and backpack swung over one shoulder. “I’ve got an umbrella.”

He looked up with a smile. A bashful one this time, with pink cheeks. Keith didn’t know what to make of it. The expression was so different to his previous ones. It made him want to lean forward and squish it. But that would be inappropriate, so Keith focused firmly on the words

“Good for you?”

Lance blinked at him, before a more familiar expression tucked himself against his cheeks, “I meant we could share it.”

“Oh.” Keith’s cheeks burned hotter than coals. He ducked his head before it could be seen and stepped towards the door. “Sure. I’d uh, I’d like that.”

Lance’s feet tapped along the wood until he was at his side again, grabbing a brightly coloured umbrella from the bucket by the door before swooshing it open. Keith grimaced as he was hit with cold air and icy blades.

“Might be a bit windy for that.”

Lance laughed, “nah, it’ll be fine when we’re away from the river.”

Lance was right. It was fine once they were walking along the streets lined with painted town houses. Keith couldn’t help noticing how snugly the two of them fitted beneath the bright fabric dome. He also couldn’t help noticing his urge to link his arm with Lance’s. He told himself it was to just to keep the heavy umbrella steady but that was a lie.

Not too much later they arrived at Keith’s door, startling red against the black and whites of the rest of the street. Keith felt a little smug about bagging this one. It was the best house, even with the cracks in its cobble stone path and the overgrown bushes lining the street and most of the garden. The rain had died down a little, pattering rhythmically against the umbrella like a tent and Keith lingered beside Lance. The peaks of the clouds above were dyed a deep orange where the sun was finally cutting through the grey as if giving its last cry of the day before it sunk down for bed.

“Well, this was a nice way to end a date.”

Keith felt his stomach jump, throwing the breath from his lungs. “Date?”

“Uhh, I mean…” Lance’s face was so bright it was matching Keith’s door. He blinked widely before looking at the ground and mouthing many words but saying very few. “It doesn’t have to be, I just uhh, I thought it would be nice, but I mean-“

“Well, in that case...”

Keith leant in close, right up to Lance’s freckles. He pressed a kiss to a flaming cheek, smiling at how it was warm like a mug of hot chocolate.

“See you in class.” He whispered, before peeking up at Lance’s face. It was red with fluster, blue eyes wide and gleaming as his mouth wobbled into something that resembled a smile. Keith returned the favour, before pulling the umbrella down and letting the rain ping off it. “Lance.”

[gleefulpoppet]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (◠‿◠✿)

♥Thank you for dropping by, nonny; this is a fun ask.

Five of my favorites (You can find a list of all my stories here).

Magic Spoken at Midnight This is one of my favorite things I've ever written, and because it's a fantasy, I don't feel like it was given much attention like a coffee shop AU would have been 😂! Alas, It's a beautiful love story filled with magic and dragons and two men who fall in love but can't touch each other without risking the prophecy (spoiler alert, they find a way). I hope someday more people will read it! And to those of you who have, let's take a moment to smile when we think about LoLa. 🥰76k/Explicit

Better Knot Bow Tie Company Series This story just grew and grew and grew during one of the challenges. There are several parts now, and I have more planned. It follows Kurt and Blaine from the moment they meet through having a family of their own. It was the first time I wrote Daddies!Klaine, and it will always hold a special place in my heart! 80k/Explicit

Stranger Than Crackfiction I think some of these stand-alone chapters are absolutely hilarious. While it's labeled as crack fiction, it's mostly a lot of ridiculous adventures with Kurt and Blaine writing fanfiction about themselves after they become huge stars. I find the premise to be comically accurate—because they so would. 52k/Explicit

Pressed Against the Glass Awww ♥ I will never forget the insane experience of writing my first multi-chapter story! It's 250k words, and I wrote it in 3 months😱! It downloaded itself into my brain, and I basically couldn't sleep until I had it all out on "paper"! This is my most read story—I appreciate everyone who gave a new author a chance. THANK YOU!

Since Sense Sensory I had to pick my current story for the last one! It's being released a few days a week (it's completely finished, so it's not a WIP). I never thought I'd write a reunion fic, but I saw three moments in this story so clearly that I had to write it. It has been one of the most challenging things I've tried to accomplish because I did not allow myself to shy away from some of the hardships the boys would have to overcome. So it's emotional, but I also believe the payoff is worth it. It's a story about taking someone's hand and truly facing life together, no matter what, and I love that for them. ♥

I have many other stories I love too, but I tried to pick a few that maybe people haven't read yet! A massive THANK YOU to all the readers out there who show their love and support to fanfic authors every day by leaving comments and kudos and reblogging our stories. You make it all worth it.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑀𝑦 𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑃𝑡.2 (𝑆𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎×𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)

Part One/ Part Three / Part Four

Pairing: Badboy! Park Seonghwa (Ateez)/ Reader (Female)

Genre: Angst, Fluff, College Au.

Summary: Y/N has no idea what to make of the mysterious Park Seonghwa. Does he really like her or is he simply playing with her?

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Flipping the light switches off, Y/N typed in the security code into the pin pad before closing the door behind her, the faint beeping from inside letting her know that the alarm was functioning properly. She honestly wondered at times about if anyone would ever think about robbing a coffee shop. Granted it made a lot of money during certain seasons, but unless you actually work in one, you probably wouldn't think so. Yet it was surprising to know it could make as much money as any famous fast food restaurant. Well.....with those sky high prices, it made sense.

She stopped and checked to make sure she had everything in her bag, not wanting to risk having left her keys inside and find out until she reached her apartment. Satisfied by the confirmation, she began her walk home. If it had been fall or winter, she would have seriously considered taking a bus, even though it wasn't that far away. But it was summer and thankfully there was still an hour left before the sun finally set. She truly believed she was lucky to have found a place to live that was close not only to her workplace, but also her school, even if it was a tiny studio apartment. She felt proud to say it was hers.

Feeling something tug on her sneaker, she looked down and realized one of her shoes was untied. She bent down and began tying it up again, carelessly placing her bag right next to her on the street. She was so focused on her task in front of her, she failed to notice the looming figure in front of her.

"You know anybody could just whisk away your bag and run at this moment?"

She snapped her head back up and saw Seonghwa standing in front of her, an amused smile on his face. He bent down and picked up her bag, dusting off the dirt that had gotten on the bottom part of it in the process.

"Tsk. Tsk. And here I thought you were a more.... what's the word? Meticulous person."

Y/N gave him a questioning gaze before standing up, quickly grabbing her bag from him.

"Not even a thank you?" Seonghwa shook his head.

"What are you still doing here? I thought you went home." Y/N said, clearly confused as to why he'd be there still.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at her.

"I thought I told you back in the shop that I'd see you later?"

Y/N recalled the moment, it did seem weird to her that he'd say that.

"Well doll, it's later......and I wanted to see you." He explained, a slight smirk tugging on the corners of his lips.

Y/N let out a tiny scoff.

"Why?"

Seonghwa blinked at her response.

"I thought I made myself clear the other day Y/N. I like you."

Y/N blushed slightly at the memory of him confronting her back in school. She was hoping the shadow from the building in front of her casted enough to hide it from him.

"And I said there would be plenty of time to get to know each other.....well I'm free right now and obviously so are you. So why don't we get something to eat? My treat."

He grinned at her, obviously not expecting her to turn down his offer. Any other girl wouldn't say no to Seonghwa. But Y/N wasn't any girl, and she wasn't about to say yes to someone she hardly knew. Especially not when he acted so strange for her liking.

"No thank you."

She quickly responded and took a step to walk away from him, but his hand reached out and stopped her from moving any further.

"Why not?" He asked.

Y/N tried to think of an excuse, any quick excuse to get out of this.

"I'm not hungry." Was the best thing she could think of.

The loud grumbling of her stomach was a dead giveaway of her fat lie. After working 8 hours straight with only a bowl of cereal for breakfast and a muffin on her only break, of course she was borderline starving and needed something in her stomach before it began eating itself. Her hands clutched her stomach, hoping to silence the obnoxious noise, but ultimately just making it more obvious.

Seonghwa looked down at her figure and snorted softly.

"Seriously, I know a really good place here that sells burgers and shakes. Are you really going to say no to free food?"

At this point she could either tell him to fuck off and stomp away home, but ultimately she'd leave even more hungry and would still have to whip up something on the stove that would take approximately half an hour or more. Or she could accept his offer, but it'd mean interacting with him, not that it was necessarily a bad thing, but she honestly didn't know what to make of him. He's been straightforward with her all this time, but how was she to know he was being serious? For all she knew, he could just be playing with her. After all, isn't that what all bad boys are known for?

Guess there was only one way to find out.

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Y/N looked around at the 50's themed diner she was in:

Black and white tiled floor that was so clean it almost looked slippery. Cherry red leather seats, either in the form of booths, tables or chairs on the front white counter that stretched at least 40 feet. An array of old records hanged on the wall, whether or not you could actually play them on a record player or if they were just flimsy decorations would forever be a secret. An old juke box was stationed in one of the corners of the counter currently playing The Beatles, its color combination of yellow and blue not quite appealing to the eyes. And of course, a pinball machine was placed near the entrance for kids to waste their quarters on. They even had a light blue 1955 convertible Chevrolet Bel Air for people to go take pictures of or with. At this point it wouldn't have surprised Y/N if waitresses came out of the kitchen in roller skates and started singing songs from Grease or Hairspray.

It became an even more ironic thought when she saw Seonghwa walk back to her with their food. Dressed in a white shirt, distressed jeans, black combat boots and black leather jacket with his hair slicked back, he could almost be a modern day Danny Zuko and for some reason, that thought made her bust a tiny giggle.

"What's so funny?" Seonghwa asked as he sat the tray down in front of her.

"Oh....nothing." She was not about to get caught.

Seonghwa looked at her funny, but ultimately decided not to pry.

"Here you go."

He slipped her food in front of her: a burger the size of her two hands and a 32 ounce chocolate shake with whipped chocolate and a cherry on the top. A well sized platter with regular fries and curly fries made it obvious that they were going to share them. She didn't mind though, the portions were so big she doubted she'd even finish half of it.

She dug into the food, her stomach thanking her for finally putting something in her body. She was so hungry that she didn't care if she was eating like how she usually ate when she was at home, messy and slobbish. She was halfway through her burger, when she caught Seonghwa just staring at her. That's when she started to feel self conscious. She quickly swallowed what was currently in her mouth and grabbed a napkin to wipe the corners of her mouth.

Seonghwa giggled at her.

"Don't worry about it. It's pretty refreshing to see a girl not care about how she looks like when she eats, and to actually eat. You have no idea how many girls I've brought here who only get salads and nothing else."

He cringed slightly at past memories of awful dates that make him wanna kick himself for even thinking they were attractive. He blamed himself though. He tended to only look at pretty faces and end up regretting it when he found out they were all self-centered, shallow, and prissy girls that just made his blood boil.

"Maybe that's why I like you. You're different."

He didn't even realize he said that out loud until she whipped her head up at him. He was stunned that he accidentally let that slip, but he was able to play it off coolly.

"How......how can you..... we've never even..?" Y/N couldn't even completely form her question but Seonghwa knew what she was referring to.

Sighing softly, he began:

"Well I'm going to sound like a total creep now but that's inevitable. It was a few months back, when you had changed majors and had to be transferred to our class..."

Seonghwa ignored the usual reprimand of the professor, telling him he was late again. As if he didn't do it on purpose. He just hated this class. It was undoubtedly one of the most boring subjects one could possibly take. He began to stare off into space, not even bothering to listen to what was being said.

He looked around at the familiar faces he saw in class, the same people from last year. Until a head of (insert hair color) hair caught his eye. She was definitely not there before. Seonghwa tried to think if he had ever seen her around before, but couldn't quite remember.

Unknowingly, he found himself staring at her more and more each time they had class together. He found out she had a habit of tapping her pen against her cheek when she was trying to concentrate, she kept everything in her bag organized and hardly socialized with anybody.

One time he followed her to her locker, just to briefly see what was inside of it. You can always tell a lot about a person based on how they decorate their locker. But Seonghwa only saw a few pictures of what he assumed was her family, few friends and a lot of sticky notes with motivational quotes written on them in various sharpie colors, with either stars or diamonds as decorations.

That just peeked his curiosity even more in trying to decipher who the mysterious girl was, and his curiosity turned to fondness for the girl, so he had no choice but to admit that he was attracted to her and wanted to get close to her.

"Wait. Is that why you were staring at me in class the other day?" Y/N asked after he told her all that.

"Took you long enough to notice too. You were so oblivious to it that it was kinda funny." He chuckled.

Y/N looked back at that moment and realized she still had so many questions left.

"But then why did you look angry after I looked away?"

Seonghwa shifted his position, sitting up straighter so he could look at her.

"Why? Cause you looked at me with such a bitch face and even rolled your eyes at me. I was kinda angry and hurt that you did that given how I feel about you." He explained.

Y/N looked at him confused.

"I did not roll my eyes at you."

"Uh....yeah. You did. You looked at me as if I was a bug or something." He corrected her.

"Well..... I was tired and hungry! I'm not in control of my actions or emotions when I'm in that state." She tried defending herself, feeling somewhat embarrassed that she had no control over her facial expressions.

"Yeah, I've noticed. You weren't all that happy 25 minutes ago when I asked you out on this date." Now it was Seonghwa's turn to roll his eyes at her previous behavior.

"This....this isn't a date!" Y/N exclaimed.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"Oh no? Do enlighten me then. What is this?"

Y/N thought about it for a moment.

"We are just 2 individuals, having a meal together and conversing." She stated.

"Why are we conversing though?" Seonghwa continued to pry.

Y/N hummed.

"Because you said you wanted to get to know me better?"

Seonghwa smiled at that.

"Sounds to me like a date then."

Y/N mentally face palmed. She practically walked into that one herself. She sighed as she picked up one of the fries and dipped it into her milkshake before eating it.

"And now I've learnt one more thing about you: we have similar tastes in eating."

Y/N watched as he mirrored her actions and dipped his fries in his strawberry milkshake. Y/N decided to just finish eating as soon as possible so she could go home early. The sun was starting to set and she didn't like walking home in the dark, even if rarely any crime happened in this neighborhood. She was planning on not saying anything else, but then something popped in her mind that made her ask:

"Wait a minute! The day after the.....incident." She began.

"You mean when you were a total bitch?" Seonghwa teased.

"Haha, funny." She threw a fry at him, causing Seonghwa to laugh even harder.

She had to admit though, he had a cute laugh.

"Anyways, the day afterwards, I heard 2 girls talking in the bathroom about you. They said that you were pissed off at me-"

"I kinda was." He interrupted her again.

"Let me finish!" She cried out rather annoyed.

Seonghwa bit his lip as he stifled another laugh. He found it adorable when Y/N got agitated.

"They made it sound like you were going to beat me up. Something about 'giving it to me'" She held up her fingers in quoting signals.

Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, trying to decipher what she meant. Then it hit him.

"Oh! No. Trust me, I wasn't going to beat you up. As for 'giving it to you' "

He mimicked her quotation signs, causing Y/N to glare at him for teasing her again.

"I was referring to the notepad you dropped. Remember? I gave it back to you?"

Now she face palmed literally as she realized she hadn't thought about that. And here she thought she was dead meat for sure.

"Was that why you were avoiding me the rest of the week? You actually believed I was going to fight you?"

Y/N swirled her milkshake with her straw, unable to look at Seonghwa in the eyes anymore.

"Y/N? I'm talking to you. You really believed that?"

The authority in his voice made her look up at him, his expression showing offense and indignation at the thought that she actually believed him capable of such a thing.

"Why would you think that?" He continued his interrogation.

"Well..... I don't know! Ok? Maybe cause I've heard so many rumors about you. You don't exactly have the best of reputations at school. Everyone says how you're...."

Her voice trailed off, afraid to finish her sentence, afraid to offend or hurt him in anyway .

"That I'm a delinquent? A criminal?"

Y/N blinked when he said that, as if he could read her mind.

"I know what people say about me, I'm not blind nor deaf to their gossip." He stated, not at all unfazed by what he often heard.

"So does that mean none of it is true?" She couldn't help but want the answer to her question.

"Well depends. Have I gotten into a lot of fights with other guys? Yes. Do I have a temper at times that gets me in trouble? Yes. Have I fucked a bunch of girls just for fun? Definitely. Do I smoke or drink often? I'm not denying it."

Seonghwa reached into his pocket and took out his lighter, twirling it around in his hand a few times so Y/N could get a glance at it before putting it back in his pants.

"But have I ever vandalized, stolen or done anything remotely illegal? No. Have I beaten someone up for no good reason? No."

Y/N listened to his words very carefully. She was amazed how he was calmly telling her all of this.

"And I most certainly have never even thought about lifting a finger against a woman. Especially not one I'm interested in." He confessed abruptly, causing Y/N to gulp her drink a little fast, nearly making her choke.

"I'm sorry." She apologized.

Seonghwa chuckled softly.

"Don't be. I get why you'd be scared. I just wish you'd get to know the real me......"

He reached his hand out and lightly brushed his finger on the top of her knuckles.

"Kinda like how I want to know you..."

The physical contact sent a weird feeling down her body. It was chilly, yet warm at the same time. She wanted to reach out and lace her fingers in his, and she would have, until a high pitched voice interrupted them.

"Seonghwa! Is that you?!"

They looked over to see a purple haired boy waving his hand in the air, as if his loud voice didn't make his presence already known. A pink haired boy was standing next to him, looking embarrassed as his friend jumped up and down. Having had enough of that, he pulled the boy by his arm and ran over to Seonghwa and Y/N's table.

"Hi! What a coincidence to see you here! Why didn't you tell us you would be here? You could have joined Yeosang and I. He promised to take me out to eat." He pulled whom Y/N assumed to be Yeosang closer to him.

The purple haired boy spoke so loud and fast Y/N had a hard time understand what he was saying.

"Promised? I was threatened." Yeosang replied, causing the other boy to let out a loud laugh, making Y/N think of a hyena.

"Hyung, where are your manners? Aren't you going to introduce us to your girlfriend?"

Seonghwa blushed and cleared his throat. It was the first time Y/N saw him get flustered and it was definitely funny.

"Y/N isn't my girlfriend-"

"Oh really? Great! Cause she's cute."

The boy wasted no time and held his hand out to her.

"My name is Wooyoung, I'm single, Bi, and I have a driver's license." He winked at her.

"For a moped." Yeosang corrected him.

Wooyoung sent a glare towards his friend.

"Y/N, these are my friends: Wooyoung and Yeosang. They go to our school, but you've probably never seen them cause they're a grade below us."

Y/N nodded and waved awkwardly at them.

"Yeosang, Wooyoung, this is Y/N. She's not my girlfriend, but she's off limits. Ok?" Seonghwa made sure to lock eyes with Wooyoung, silently warning him not to step any further into his territory.

"So if she's not your girlfriend, does that mean she's a fuck bud-"

Yeosang stepped on Wooyoung's foot, causing him to bend over in pain. Yeosang however smiled sweetly as if nothing happened.

"Anyways, it was nice seeing you Hyung. We wouldn't want to take up more of your time. Besides, we'll be seeing you tomorrow at Hongjoong's party. Right?"

Seonghwa nodded.

"You know I never pass up an opportunity to party."

"Will you bring Y/N with you?" Wooyoung asked, hoping she'd come.

Seonghwa looked over to Y/N, who tried to think of an answer.

"Uh... no thanks. I wasn't invited so-"

"Who cares? No one needs an invitation these days. It's a frat party anyways, a bunch of strangers end up coming in the end." Wooyoung insisted.

"I'll....think about it." Y/N knew she wouldn't.

"Ok! I'll take it as a yes. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Taking a hold of Yeosang's hand, Wooyoung made his way over to another table, the pink haired boy already looking exhausted at the thought of spending at least 2 more hours with his highly energetic friend.

Y/N smiled softly at them. They were definitely an odd pairing, but they seemed to compliment each other.

"It's getting late. Want me to take you home?" Seonghwa asked her.

"It's fine. I can walk. It's not that far." She refused.

"I insist. I want to make sure you get there safely." He insisted.

Y/N smirked at him.

"Are you really concerned for my safety or do you just wanna find out where I live?"

Seonghwa's mouth dropped at her insinuation.

"I don't..... ok you got me there."

She chuckled at his reaction, but ultimately got up.

"Ok. Fine. Take me home. The worst you can possibly do is murder me and throw my body in a lake."

Seonghwa shook his head and picked up his jacket. He made sure to hold the door open for her when they went out. Y/N didn't even notice he had stopped walking until she heard him whistle behind her. Turning around, she saw him standing next to a black Harley-Davidson motorcycle. She raised her hands and gestured him to explain.

"I told you I was taking you home."

He tapped the seat.

"So come on. Hop on doll."

He began taking out the spare helmet for her to put on. She walked back to him and placed her hands on her hips.

"You kept it parked here the entire time?" She asked him.

"Uh huh." He responded.

Her face was full of shock.

"Did you know that I would say yes to coming here with you?"

"Well not exactly 'knew'.......more like....hoped."

He winked at her before placing the helmet above her head, making sure to strap it tightly.

"Safety first."

After putting on his own helmet, he got on the motorcycle and waited for her to get on. She awkwardly threw her leg over the seat and hesitated to wrap her arms around him. Seonghwa huffed and simply grabbed her wrists to put them on his stomach.

As soon as he started revving up the motorcycle, Y/N tightened her grip around him. Even through his shirt, she could feel rock solid abs underneath it. It made her wonder what he looked like without a shirt. The thought temporarily distracted her from the worry of actually riding in a motorcycle for the first time.

Sensing her fear, Seonghwa grabbed one of her hands and gave it a light squeeze.

"Don't worry doll. I'll keep you safe."

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*part 3 coming soon*