#carmine made a bad first impression but i warmed up to her i like her a lot :)

[claitea]

finished the dlc! enjoyed it a lot :D

[razorblade180]

OC test:Speech!

[everyone shall be put in front of crowd and say something. Think of it like rallying troops, orientation, declaring war, whatever. The crowd is 500 strong.]

All the characters stand on a stage, overlooking the wave of people. Jacquelyn stands behind a podium with a microphone while everyone waits their turn.

Jacquelyn:Ummmm, sup? Not much for speeches so I’ll keep this brief. I don’t know what problems you all have, your background, or where you’re heading. What I do know is I’m down to listen to all of it. A traveler loves a good story, so make it your best.

The crowd of people seem a bit caught off gaurd, yet enlightened. They lightly clap and nod as she bows before letting Sienna take the spotlight.

Jacquelyn:Good luck!

Sienna:(How the hell do I follow that up!?)

Sienna:*clears throat* Yo, my name is Sienna Frost. The lovely lady before me was my mother if anyone was wondering. I might have two sets of ears but I assure you, story time isn’t my favorite thing. You wanna show me who you are, then do it instead. As far as mine goes, don’t worry where I’ve been. Just watch where I’m headed. I just might surprise you.

She held up a peace sign and made her exit, leaving the crowd with nothing to say. It would’ve felt like going against her words. Jael came up next. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. The girl chose to back away then began to float up to draw everyone’s direction.

Jael:Remember, on the ground or in the air, look up to me.

That’s all she said before leaving. All the characters were absolutely stunned. Even Carmine. She was sure she’d be the only one to say something wild. Yujin awkwardly walked up next. People immediately started to smile and seem pleasantly surprised.

Yujin:By the looks of some of you, I take it you see my mother’s face in me? That’s fine, it’ll make this easier. Yujin Xiao Long, the girl that’ll be in future text books. Until then, watch me do my thang!

She gave the crowd a prideful smile and a fist bump into the air to hype them up. The crowd did it back and cheered. Tenzen used that energy and added it to his own charisma, choosing to stand on the podium.

Tenzen:Yeah! That’s what I’m talking about. Those with heart of fire and wild dreams, stick around! We’ll have the time of our lives! Never stop doing what you want!

The crowd got even more hyped as him and Yujin high fived before running off stage into the crowd itself. Everybody was given a high five and watched both leave as they laughed. Nick was next to go up. To get their attention, Nick made a glyph in the sky that made it snow. A quick change in the crowds attitude was immediately noticed as they stared at the dignified young man show his usual charming smile and kind eyes that made the women blush and most of the men jealous.

Nick:Good evening, I’m glad to see everyone so lively. As heir to a company you would think I’d be good a speeches. To be honest, I’m panicking inside right now. I made it snow, who just does that!?

The question got the crowd to laugh a little. Jealous faces unknowingly got a little softer.

Nick:Anyways, I just wanna tell everyone here that no matter the situation, lean on me. If not, then those you care about and have better spending habits. Hehe, I think I’ve said enough. Thanks and I hope you all have a good time listening to everyone else.

Crowd:(He’s so polite...)

Snowflakes crew:(There he goes, charming the masses like usual.)

Summer walked up next. Much like her twin brother, a glyph formed in her hand that quickly mixed with fire dust in her clothing. The warm of brace of embers flew out of it like a flicker camp fire that was drawn toward the snow. The gentle blend of fire and iced danced in air around the crowd, leaving them amazed. Summer was no stranger to a crowd or a stage. This might be her easiest test yet. The girl sung a simple word that enchanted everyone like a siren spell. “Mirror~”

Summer:I hope you all enjoyed that little tease. I typically like to warm my voice before addressing an audience so I though of that on the fly. Anyways-

The crowd interrupted her with applause. She hadn’t even spoken what was on her mind and they were hooked! Summer chose to accept it and made her way off the stage. It was even easier than she thought. She turned to Veronica and stuck her tongue out. The faunus responsed by flipping her off and walking away.

Eliza:You’re not making a speech?

Veronica:No, I hate people and do this sort of thing too much. I’m goons go draw or some shit. (Summer can’t say she had a better speech if I never do one.)

Valerie:Wait, this is optional? Guess I’ll leave too.

Eliza:At least day a sentence you two!

Both girls rolled their eyes and walked up together.

Veronica:Sometimes being the change you want and the change the world needs are two different things entirely; acknowledge way and take the step forward, not backwards.

Valerie:A jack of all trades is an ace to no one. Not that it’s a bad thing. Just find the other playing card.

The girls waved to the crowd and went off. Valerie started thinking, which card was she? Nick clapped for the two of them like he always does. Eliza took the opportunity to step forward. A snap of her fingers negated all the semblances still at play. Eliza took a running start to hop off the stage and land with a mighty thump that started a wave of sprouting flowers. This was beginning to be more of a talent show then a public speaking test. What was once winter had turned into spring!

Eliza:Sorry, but I think being eye level and warm with you all is far more appealing. I doubt many of you have heard of the a Marigolds but that’s fine. All you have to know is I’m the one who will elevate their status. Playing nice with others isn’t my strongest quality but fairness is. If by any miracle fate comes to join us together for a purpose, I promise I’ll stand by to the very end and pull out all the stops. I simply ask to put in all the effort you can as well.

A gust of wind came by and swept petals into the air as Eliza did a curtsy. As far as theatrics go, it was show, but more than that. It was the truth. A fair and honest truth. Like a gentle breeze on a spring day. Sparrow stood up to go next.

Sparrow:I....do not care about outcomes.

Crowd:.....What?

OCs:Yeah, what?

Sparrow:Good, bad, surprising, or boring; those concepts don’t apply whenever I’m sailing across the seas with passengers and crew mates. Everything that happens is apart of epic journey. Now I’m not gonna stand here and act like I’m anything special, because I’m not. All the same I am a captain and a damn good one at that. For those who passing through life with ambition in their hearts and freedom through their veins, sail with me. You might just be surprised. Thank you for your time.

The ex-military man put on his captain’s hat and walked away, never looking back at the crowds faces. All he heard were the footsteps of those who dared to follow him. The allure of his words reached some of the young men and women. 500 became 450. Kovu felt nervous, but a bit more confident as he went up to go next. All the women, children, sons and daughters, he looked at them in a different light because of Sparrow.

Kovu:Before Sparrow went up here I had the idea of talking about my family and how they motivate me to do my best. While that is true, now I can’t help but sing a different tune. This isn’t my first time with a microphone in front of my face and it probably won’t be the last. It’s what happens when you’re a Belladonna and your other mom is a top rate huntress. Still, it doesn’t feel real that I should get a microphone and a podium because of that; I’m just a regular guy. Being down there feels more comfortable to me than being up here ever will. Average strength, intelligence, normal qualities, but I guess that last one is debatable.

Carmine:Yeah, you dork!

The crowd and Kovu chuckled at the call out. Carmine didn’t know people too well, but she knew Kovu well enough to know when he’s being hard on himself. She spoke up more for his benefit than anybody else.

Kovu:The point is I’m stunned that despite me just being some normal person, I’m very thankful for the fact that you all stand before me to listen. That’s what motivates me most. Thanks, I’ll keep doing my best.

The crowd happily applauded for him. No fancy tricks or even something to leave the biggest impression. Just a boy who made a speech. On a stage full of giants in their own right, having Kovu being so relatable was a breath of fresh air in its own way. Carmine gave him a thumbs up and finally stepped forward. She ignored the podium entirely, choosing to project her voice to all who looked. The commanding yet calm presence she gave off was already at play.

Carmine: Once upon a time my mother Ruby Rose saved the world. She did it with strength, intelligence, and kindness above all. Her dream to protect others fueled her keep striving towards a happy ending. That same compassion wasn’t paid forward unfortunately and my mother suffered a loss some time later that nearly broke her. My mother wasn’t a very religious person until that incident from what people tell me, but it helped give her peace of my. Everyday she prayed to her god for the strength to press and breathe new life into her symbolically. Until one day it became literal. She asked her god for strength and he gave her me. I’m hopes and dreams given flesh. Not just hers, but I’m yours too. *points to the crowd* To all of you good people wanting peace and needing a defender of your normal life, pick whatever god you worship and thank him for me. To those who decide to rot the world they live in with hate and malice, choose a god and make your peace when you meet me. My name is Carmine Arc Rose, the greatest huntress, no, the greatest huntsman in general to ever walk Remnant. I’ll move forward first to keep you all safe. See you at the finish line, eventually.

Her body faded away into rose petals that were carried into the wind. She was never there to begin with. Carmine had more important things to do. The crowd once again fell silent as the petals kept scattering. All the other testers were at a loss for words themselves, except Kovu.

Kovu:Oh boy, as blunt as ever. To think she’d declare her standing among them like that? She might’ve just told them out right how far away they are compared to her.

Yujin:That was badass!

Sienna:More like cocky. She said she’s the greatest huntsman ever. What does that make her mom?

Kovu:The greatest hero. There’s a difference between the two in Carmine’s eyes. Try not to bring it up though. It’s a can of worms she won’t answer. Ruby is no doubt a Great huntsman but....Carmine has feelings about that title.

A petal gently fell into his hand before taking flight again. Aero still silently resting in the question tree with Carmine sleeping under it. Her little brother fast asleep in her lap. An exceptional huntsman yes, but an even better big sister.

[marvels-writings]

Rumor Has It (5)

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Series Masterlist

Carol Danvers Masterlist

A/N: I’m really trying to keep track of all my series. I'm really sorry if I abandon one for some time before coming back to it. 

“I think we should go back, the meeting is in a few hours.” Carol commented, exhausted after seeing almost all of the touristy attractions in London with you, even taking a few selfies with you on your phone for the fun of it. 

“You’re right.” You answered, shrugging and leading Carol back to the hotel. 

After a 15 minute walk in comfortable silence, you reached back to the hotel, you scoured for more chips ahoy, which they had thankfully refilled. 

“You know Fury is gonna notice that on the room service bill.” Carol commented, struggling a bit with picking out an outfit for the dealing. 

“He had to pay for like 10 chocolate bars last time.” You answered, a cookie in your mouth as you easily picked out a dress and matching jewelry and shoes. “I’m sure he won’t mind keeping one of his favorite agents happy.” “You take advantage of his goodwill?” Carol asked, half jokingly half seriously, watching you shrug as you put another cookie into your mouth. 

“Through chocolate, yes,” You considered, tossing the packet into the trash. “Otherwise I wouldn’t even think of it.” 

Carol shrugged, satisfied with your response and tried to pair a dress with jewelry and shoes, but failing miserably and made some country’s flag instead, on accident. 

“Need help?” You asked, a smirk on your face as you watched Carol make the italian flag with her clothes. 

“Probably.” Carol muttered, stepping aside as you walked over, frowning at the mess she had made on the bed. 

“Well, I’m wearing a blue dress so you have to compliment that.” You thought aloud, picking out the first red dress you saw. 

You took control of the situation instantly, muttering to yourself from time to time as you picked out an outfit for her. Carol looked at the outfits you were picking with confusion before her gaze slipped to you, watching you bite your lip as you selected jewelry and makeup for her to wear. 

“Done.” You declared, stepping away from a perfectly paired outfit with satisfaction. 

“Impressive.” Carol commented, staring at the blue and gold outfit you’d picked out for her, matched with Black patent louboutins she’d bought a while back. 

“I’m gonna change.” You said, going into the bathroom to change quickly, this night was going to be ‘fun’.

 -~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

After about an hour, both of you had your dresses and the jewelry on correctly and you were doing your makeup easily, laughing a little at Carol struggling to get the eyeliner, it seemed like she was going to use all of it. 

“Let me.” You groaned, stopping your own makeup halfway to help her. 

Carol blinked but nodded, leaning her head forward slightly and closing her eyes, a bit wary still but she trusted you not to poke her eyes out. You got the perfect winged eyeliner in one try, hours of practice from before finally paid off. 

“There, now don’t waste any of my makeup.” You joked, your breath on her face before you pulled away, putting the eyeliner away and continuing to get your eye makeup done. 

“How did you do it perfectly?” Carol asked, admiring it in the mirror. 

“I’ve had to do a lot of makeup.” You answered, finally finishing your eye makeup and debating between two shades of red before deciding on the Carmine red, you put it on easily, then lined it on the outside with the same shade so it complimented your dress perfectly. 

“Thoughts?” You asked, turning to face Carol with the lipstick in your hand, a small smudge on the corner of your lips where your hand had trembled slightly after noticing Carol staring at you. 

“I thought you were experienced.” Carol quipped, lifting one hand to wipe the remaining lipstick away from the corner of your lip, you flinched back slightly but let her wipe it away, trying not to be hyper aware of her finger grazing over your lip. 

“I meant the shade.” You explained, starting to put your makeup away before noticing Carol wasn’t using any. 

“The shade looks good.” Carol muttered,  trying to look away from your lips but finding it harder to do so. 

“You’re not using any?” You asked, gesturing to the makeup, Carol blinked and nodded no. 

“Well too bad, you are now.” You said, smirking and pulling Carol back down when she tried to get up, Carol groaned but let you do it anyway. 

You gave her a simple look with blue eyeshadow to compliment the dress and her skin tone, with a heavy blush and a baby pink lipstick to compliment that, internally panicking the entire time when you could practically feel her breathing when you put on makeup. 

“I’m done.” You stated, putting everything away into a makeup bag and putting that bag into your suitcase quickly and taking out a small red purse with a gold chain to hang over your shoulder. 

“Then let’s go.” Carol said after admiring the makeup in the mirror, taking a small navy blue clutch even though she didn’t need it, you needed it to store certain weapons that could pass through metal detectors, courtesy of T’challa. 

 -~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

“You know we need to act like a couple right?” You said, getting out of the black car you’d called as a taxi, it had taken about a half an hour drive just to get here, it was about 20 minutes drive away from anything, it looked like a beat up factory on the outskirts of the city. 

“I know, you sure this is the place?” Carol asked, paying the driver and walking to your side, offering you her arm which you hesitantly took, putting your free hand on her forearm, remarking silently on how warm she was. 

“That’s the address Fury gave me.” You answered, walking forward and Carol followed you, trying to pretend she was the one leading you even though she had little to no idea where she was heading. 

Inside it seemed abandoned, there was no equipment, no new paint, it seemed like an abandoned room, the only light coming from the old tube lights on the roof of the building and through the door Carol had just opened, the only sign of human activity was a steel table in the middle of the room with black leather chairs on both sides, 2 on one side and 1 on the other side. 

You looked up at Carol who looked back at you in confusion before nodding slightly, leading you over to the table, perching at the top of the chairs nervously, arms still linked together. 

“Come, sit.” A soothing voice said, walking out of the shadows and sitting in the chair in front of you. 

He was a man of average build, a bit taller than most actually with slicked back dark brown hair, whitening from the roots. He had a steel colored 3 piece suit on, it looked like Tom Ford to you but you couldn’t be too sure. 

You sat down hesitantly, not taking your gaze off of the man as did Carol. 

“Why here?” Carol asked, visibly uncomfortable with the factory. 

“Safer than the city,” The man answered leaning forward on the desk with his hands clasped together. “You want the arms I assume?”

“You want the money I assume?” You asked in return, the man leaned back and laughed, amused by your response. 

“I like you,” He said, smirking as his gaze shifted between you and Carol. “Tell you what, both of you seem serious, meet me at this address tomorrow and we’ll talk business.”

“Why call us here then?” Carol demanded, in a scarily serious tone. 

“You’re full of questions.” He remarked, then shrugged before answering the question. 

“To filter out who is serious and who’s not, you’ll meet a man outside who will give you an envelope with an address, take it and meet me tomorrow.” He stated, getting up and walking somewhere where neither you or Carol could see. 

“This was pointless.” Carol muttered, following you out the door, there was a man outside waiting with an envelope and a gun, which you noted instantly. 

You took the envelope and walked to where the car was waiting, knowing the meeting tomorrow would be different, and more dangerous to say the least. 

A/N: The next part will be interesting ;)

Tag list: @capcarolsdanver​, @versdan​, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught​, @lovebotlarson​, @dhengkt​, @5aftermidnight​, @hstoria​, @natasha-danvers​, @veryfunnyal​, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ , @ophelias-heart​  , @never-didbefore​ , let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

| Part 6 |

[thesimperiuscurse]

FINE. All of them for EVA. Jerk

NO U. aight i’m gonna answer these for the start of chapter 6, two weeks from the end of chapter 5. 

zinc white; how are you really feeling today? no one-word answers please! 

ready to kick ass, make the most of her work day, determined for upcoming regionals and exams. nothing is yet to trouble her.  

cadmium yellow; when you think of the word “happy” what’s the first thing that comes to mind? 

the faces of her family. they are what she loves most in the world. 

lemon; what’s your comfort food?

in winter, her mom makes rich and creamy soups with veggies from the garden. pair that with soft buns fresh from the oven, and it’s guaranteed to comfort eva on the coldest and dreariest days.  

hansa yellow; what’s your guilty pleasure song? 

classic justin timberlake songs, like cry me a river. 

yellow ochre; name an artist/band whom you just discovered & can’t get enough of! 

just yesterday i found a new one for eva, an electronic artist named kloud. there’s one song in particular, humans, the lyrics and intense beat of which she’s super vibing with.    

naples yellow; where do you feel most at home?

the family villa in malibu. cherry and gabriel made sure to raise their children in a happy, secure, peaceful home. no repeat of their own turbulent and traumatic childhoods. 

raw sienna; with whom do you feel most at home?

again, her family. 

golden ochre; describe the relationship you have with your closest friend. 

eva doesn’t have a best friend. all the people she’s really close to are members of her family. she’s always been far too ballet-focused to maintain deep relationships with anyone outside of her family. however, she’s now growing very comfortable with sasha, piper, misha, and mako. they’re all quite bantery with each other. 

golden deep; what’s your favorite season? 

summer. always. 

cadmium orange; what do you like to do on your days off? 

her day off is sunday. currently — she wakes up at 8:30, has a slow breakfast with piper in the cafe, checks in with the academy physiotherapist at 11:00, and the rest of the day is loosely scheduled for gym, procrastinating maths homework, kickboxing, visiting family, playing her guitar, or watching netflix.   

orange lake; do you have anyone you can turn to when you’re sad? 

she has a super strong support system in all her family members, but her mom in particular. cherry is always checking up by call whether her daughter is happy and healthy. 

titans; do you prefer slow mornings or relaxing evenings? 

slow mornings. eva can’t wake up before eight, and if she’s forced to, she’ll get cranky. she wakes up when the sun does. 

shakhnazaryan red; are you currently binge-watching anything? 

not binging, but she’s slowly working through sex education on netflix. 

red ochre; are you more right-brained (creative) or left-brained (analytical)? 

right-brained. she can’t analyse for shit, unless she’s working something out using empathy and emotional intelligence. like misha, in that sense. 

burnt sienna; is there a painting that brings you peace when you look at it? 

she’s not one to enjoy the silent purity of art galleries. she prefers to explore nature and breathe in the ever-changing beauty of the earth. the sight of the sea always brings her peace. 

english red; what animal do you relate to most? 

probably a dumb but very cute and energetic dog.

vermilion; what’s your favorite accent?

scottish? she finds limmy’s show hilarious.  

cadmium red; do you have a “type” when it comes to a significant other? 

for summer boyfriends: hot surfer boys, tall and athletic, that have a big smile and laugh, laidback yet adventurous, sunkissed with messy sea-salted hair. in other words, mako ain’t it. for a significant other: she hasn’t thought about it. a serious romantic relationship is not in her interest for now.  

scarlet; describe your current crush/es. 

no crushes. or at least, she hasn’t realised she has one yet. hehe.  

ruby; what does your ideal first date look like? 

eva doesn’t actually go on proper dates. she can’t be bothered with awkward conversations and formalities. she might grab an icecream with a guy, surf and play sports, or go to a bonfire beach party together.    

carmine; what does your ideal second date look like? 

hook up with him, i guess. 

madder lake red; would you ever kiss someone (or accept a kiss) on a first date? 

if it isn’t clear by now, eva gives absolutely zero fucks about traditions or ‘rules’ around dating. her relationships are in friend-with-benefits territory, and she goes straight for what she wants.

rose; what’s something really positive going on in your life right now?

the family puppy, senor papperino. her siblings send her a million pictures of him as he grows up. a bittersweet joy.  

quinacridone rose; what’s something you’re really looking forward to?

her cousin amaya is getting married to amir next year, a spring wedding in the sonoran desert. eva’s helping her with the planning and dress design, which lilith is to create.     

violet rose; what does your dream house look like? 

a simple beach house, warm with natural light, that sits gently in nature. small, because her time spent inside is minimal. she really isn’t impressed with flashy luxuries.  

violet; is there any place in particular you’d like to settle down? 

a place right by the beach. she loves malibu and would want to stay close to her family. 

blue lake; what would you like to do/accomplish before you settle down? 

honestly, ‘settling down’ is something she’s barely thought about. she’s going to dance professionally as long as she can, maybe become a teacher like darcy, and explore her other passions, like surfing and environmental conservation. the traditional concept of marrying then having children is one that she feels may happen to her naturally, rather than she HAS to settle down at a specific point in her life. it’s just not on her priority list. 

cobalt blue spectral; what is the most beautiful place you have ever been to?

the most beautiful place in the world in eva’s mind is the garden at her family home, which blooms with dandelion clocks in summer, full of fruit trees, and is right by her favourite beach. her happiest childhood memories lie there. 

ultramarine; when was the last time you were in a good mood? do you know/remember what sparked it? 

at the moment, eva’s always in a good mood, because she’s in a place where she’s working at her greatest passion everyday. she’s friends with mako now, so the only person that could really put her in a bad mood is vicky. 

blue; what’s the most recent dream you remember? 

she can’t remember any of her dreams. 

bright blue; what does your dream family look like? any kids or pets? how many of each? 

since eva doesn’t really care about getting married, that hasn’t crossed her mind. she already has a broad, loving, ‘dream’ family, and her siblings are bound to have kids, so she doesn’t feel any pressure. she would be perfectly happy spending time with her nieces/nephews instead. a cute dog is a definite, though, probably another golden retriever.  

blue cobalt; do you like your name? would you give yourself a different name if you could? 

evangeline’s named after one of the strongest women in her life. she’s proud to have inherited the name, and hopes to live up to it.  

prussian azure; what’s your favorite scent? 

grapefruit, sea salt. 

azure blue; what’s your favorite type of tea, if any?

she’s a coffee person, but in summer, her mom likes to brew iced tea with fruits and herbs from the garden, which eva loves. 

turquoise blue; if you could start a garden, what would you plant?

lots of citrus trees. plants that can grow wild and thrive on their own. 

cerulean blue; if you were guaranteed to have a viewership, would you start a youtube vlog? 

i can picture eva vlogging, but in reality she’s too busy dancing for that shit. she prefers to live her life off screen, grounded in her reality.  

glauconite; describe your body without using any negative adjectives.

“jacked as fuck”

yellow green; picture yourself walking in a field. what do you see & hear in this scenario?

a field of tiny wildflowers on the dry coastal hills of malibu. the sun is burning bright, the sea is crashing against the beaches below, the wind is pulling wild at her hair. 

green light; are you in a comfortable place in life? if not, what do you think might make it better?

eva’s always striving to be more than just comfortable. her ambition means she’s already achieved an impressive amount in life, and she’s happy with how she’s moving along, but she’s forever shooting for the stars. 

green; name three countries you want to visit; do you have any actual plans in place to visit any of them?

she can’t afford to travel at the moment but hawaii, spain, greece.  

emerald green; do you speak any languages besides english? are there any additional languages you want to learn? 

a tiny bit of spanish, korean, and german from gabriel, but nowhere near fluently. she would like to improve her skills in those languages if she has the time.  

oxide of chromium; what’s your favorite book?

eva isn’t bookish. she just can’t sit still long enough. when she was a kid, she did love the magic slipper series, written by one of the prima ballerinas she idolises. 

olive green; are you currently reading anything? how do you like it so far?

her calculus textbook. she wants to set it on fire.  

mars brown; what’s a movie that always puts a smile on your face/makes you laugh? 

she likes cheesy 90s era movies. she’s the man always makes her laugh. 

burnt umber; what’s something you plan to do before the day is over to take care of yourself?

an ice bath and self massage for her legs, if pointe work is particularly intense, treat any new blisters or bleeding on her feet. typical ballet things. 

umber; have you drank enough water today? 

eva is always mindful to drink eight cups of water per day. 

voronezhskaya black; what or who is your go-to outlet for when you need to vent? 

amaya. she listens coolly, and provides helpful commentary. a few weeks ago, eva vented to her about mako and how much of an ‘arrogant ass’ her partner is. after she finished letting off steam, amaya asked her what the exact reasons for disliking him were, which helped eva realise her own stubbornness, haha. 

sepia; name five things that always make you happy.

perfect surf waves, a hug from her parents, adding a new piece of jewellery to her minimal gold collection, warm sunny weather, camping with her siblings.     

indigo; what’s the best/sweetest compliment you have ever received?

she’s received a lot of ‘you’re pretty’ type compliments from guys over the years, but what makes her happiest is compliments about her dancing, particularly from professionals. 

payne’s gray; describe your aesthetic? 

summer beach chick, relaxed shades of sea blue and white froth, minimalist, with a rough edge.   

black; post a selfie because you are so beautiful!

nah i’m too lazy to open the game at the moment. anyway, eva doesn’t really take selfies by herself, since she’s not that active on social media. 

[slothgiirl]

forever isn’t for everyone part 10

We all head straight to the hotel, just in time for the first interviews of the day; throwing Jamie and Miles to the wolves. It's a nice place, that we won't enjoy. Having lost a day means that after using the hotel for interviews, we'll have to run to the venue. Only Lucy and the two band members get off at the hotel. 

The rest of us, unlucky as we are, have to get and attempt a soundcheck down half our crew. It's hell. 

Made worse at the thought of Alex holed up in the tour bus as we rush around. Unbothered by work as he's just Miles' plus one. Having stayed up all night with Miles, playing guitar and making my head want to explode as I'd laid in my bunk, thinking about how deft his hands on the strings were. Working myself up and worst of all-- missing him. 

Lucy had been right. I text her as much only to hear a snort above me. Unhelpful in everything except gossip. 

By the time Miles and Jamie get back, having been grilled to hell and back, Jamie looking like the worlds most uncomfortable toddler who's cheeks have been pinch way too many times by strangers, most of the set up has been done. The California sun beating down on us as we enjoy munching on the food set up for us. 

It's one of those days when I could care less if it's any good. That fucking hungry. 

Miles keeps glancing down at his phone, a bundle of nervous energy instead of the usual chaotic energy. He reminded me so of the boys in school who would talk back to the teacher and cause riots of laughter among students. He gets up, grabbing another beer and pacing around the room before collapsing into a chair once more. 

It's making me nervous. 

"You alright Miles," I venture, when he sits down by me, frowning down at his phone. 

"Yeah. Yeah," he says dismissively, not bothering to look up from his phone. "Just peachy doll."

I roll my eyes, but persevere. Part of my job is too make sure the talent's holding up. And we might not be friends outside of work, but you can't live on the road for weeks with people and just not care about them. "You're calling me doll. Now I'm really worried."

He laughs humorlessly. "It's all right Ellie. Really."

"Is it Alex?"

Miles' eyes pierce my gaze, the goblin child mirth absent in lieu of surprise. "No. No. sort of." He glances down at the ground, at the carpet the color of cat vomit, whose original color had been lost to time. "He's just got a bit of a headache. That's all."

"Right," I reply, unconvinced by his slippery gaze and the airy tone. 

" 'm sorry about whatever happened between you two," he utters bluntly. "Say the word and I'll send him away.”

"You don't really mean that," I note, fiddling with my thumbs, unable to hold his gaze now as color rises to my cheeks, "or else you'd have offered at the start of the tour. Not two weeks before it ends in south america."

"Technically," Miles counters, pointing his finger right at me, "its just a break before the festivals.  I can make do with out 'im." 

"I highly doubt that," I remark. Everything's in order in the venue. I'll give myself this one night to skip the concert. While people watching could be fun, and there was nothing like the energy of a live band filling the venue with hundreds of screaming fans, I was a bit over it tonight. Having spent the majority of yesterday in the same confined area with Alex, and being careful not to make it too obvious I was avoiding him, had drained me. 

I walk out the door and into the warm summer night. It was a nice change from Utah. The city bathed in lights as the sun set. Just like that an entire summer gone by. Tomorrow was a second show. Then Pomona. Then San Diego  Soon we'd be in South America and then onto Europe. Miles had been wrong, there was only a week before Europe. 

I let out a breathe as I wish for the first time in my life for a cigarette. All this traveling with a rock band and I'd finally picked up some bad habits. I walk down sunset strip and right into a liquor, wishing I had thought to nick some of the cigarette boxes that filled an entire bowl backstage. Thank god for riders. And next year I'd be doing it all over again with another band. The thought filled me with dread. I'd gotten used to Nick and Jamie. To Ben and Miles who often ended up ontop of tables dancing and dunk and pulling Alex up along with him. 

As soon as I take a drag, I can feel the knot inside my chest begin to ease up. More and more neon signs light up. It's not Vegas, with its kitchy over the top theatrics, but Los Angeles feels like every noir detective movie I'd seen. It's so much like the grimy and cheesy eighties action movies set in these very streets. If not for the actual stale smell of actual garbage. The cars honking every five seconds.

Streets clogged like heart arteries with cars. 

I slip into the first bar I find that's playing loud music. The strokes. God, how I used to dance around my room to their music at one in the mornings instead of finishing my assignments. 

"What can I get for you," the bartender, young, maybe only a year older than me, asks in her vocal fry Californian way. 

"rum and coke," I reply. 

"I love your accent," she replies, already pouring out the cheap rum and coke. I set down a ten-er and find a seat in a small alcove, the crushed velvet seat smelling thickly of cheap beer and cigarette smoke. I slump in my seat and watch people come in and out. 

At least I'd seen the TLC Chinese theater on the way in. Even got a picture that wasn't completely blurry at a red light. Months into the tour and my will to go sight see was dead. My feet would not, refused to even think, of walking another two miles down to the famous street. 

I was almost for sure spending my week off curled up in my bed watching random reality tv shows. 

After my rum and coke I grab a cranberry vodka, feeling like a teenager who'd taken a juice box to school. 

The door opens and a familiar face walks in, already chatting up a girl. It's Alex, with the sort of charisma that takes weeks of hacking at his reserved nature to get through. The girl, a acid blonde, is eating it up, giggling against his shoulder as they order drinks. 

It's heartbreak all over again.  

Instead of doing the rational thing, and leaving before I cry in a random bar, I sit there and watch. Watch as he wraps his arm around her, curling his fingers around her waist. She leans into him, laughing loudly like all these Americans do. Stumbling a little as they take a table by the entrance. Alex smiles evenly, even as she wipes tears of laughter from her eyes. 

Shouldn't he be at the concert with his bezzie mate? 

I swallow back bitterness. It's been three months. Plenty of time to have gotten over him if I hadn't been on the road with him for all of that time. That was all. As soon as this tour was over I'd never have to see his face again. 

Even if I wanted to. 

Even if my heart still fluttered when he smiled softly, eyes sparkling with delight as he got absorbed in the conversation. In Miles and even Matt to some extent. He was charming despite his distant nature. The very picture of having your head in the clouds. The dreaminess only made him that much more appealing. I down the rest of my drink, feeling my throat burn, before resolving to leave. This was a sign I should go to the Chinese theater. Get a photo of me among the walk of fame. Why torture myself about Alex? 

He'd been an ass. I had to remind myself of that night, of the week leading up to it when he wouldn't even give me an explanation for why meeting up for breakfast was too much for him. 

When I look up, they're gone. 

I sigh in relief. 

The night in LA is less black, then a midnight blue. The light pollution illuminating even the grimiest corner. I start to walk in the direction of the crowd. Even at eight, the street was as busy as ever. Like New York, like London, this culture capital never slept. It eased any reservations I had about wondering alone at night in a foreign city. 

I'd just get a taxi back to the venue. 

I'm almost down to the light when two figures catch my attention out of the corner of my eye. Down a badly lit alley. There's a homeless woman sleeping at the entrance.

I stop and stare. 

Alex's auburn hair obscuring his features, but I'd know him anywhere. Know the curve of his spine, the way he carried himself, curled in on himself in a way that could only be described as dainty. His lips against the blonde's neck. It's salt in the wound that's been reopened. fuck. I should've stayed behind in Utah. 

I'm about to turn tail and run when my eyes focus on the blonde. Her arms held still by Alex's hands. Back against the wall. It's a red flag ringing in the back of my mind. The flag that my mothers had impressed into my little prepubescent mind, both of them telling me what to do if I ever felt uncomfortable with a man. Both of them biting their nails with each word.

I stride forward without another thought. Jaw clenching shut. 

It doesn't take long to reach them. But my shoe makes an awful crunching sound as I step on a discarded crisps bag. 

Alerting Alex. 

Words well up in my mouth. Stop. What the fuck are you doing. Alex. But they all die on my lips as Alex looks up, his eyes meeting mine. Instead of the caramel color I'm used to, so bloody fond of. . .his eyes like a pair of rubies met mine. A look of utter devastation crosses his fine features. "I can explain," he utters in a rush, lips stained carmine with blood. 

My brain short circuits. Not wanting to make the connection. Not wanting to hear it. I wish I'd stayed. I don't want to know. I don't. Fuck. Jesus fucking christ. 

My mouth can't form words. Can only look from Alex to the hands, still clasped tightly around the blonde. Her smile dazed as she sways, all her weight on him. Alex lets her go. 

She sways like the branches of a willow tree in the wind, almost falling over before the jolt of the fall kicks her back into consciousness. Her eyes widen as she looks at both of us for a tense second. Her mouth widens comically into an O before she screams. 

Alex moves, surging forward and pressing his hand to her mouth, silencing her scream before it can make its way out of the alley and into the trafficked street. He gazes deeply into her frightened eyes. "Forget this night. You had a drink with a stranger and then went home. Now go on. Run back home and sleep the night away." He wipes the last hint of blood from her neck before he lets her go.

Her gaze slacks as he speaks, until the fear retreats. And just like that, like malleable clay, she walks out of the alley, and off into the night. I watch her disappear around the corner. Still shocked silent. 

"El," Alex whispers sadly, much too close for comfort. Having crossed the distance between us while I was distracted. A mistake on my part. A primal terror surging through my mind, telling me to run. To get as far from Alex as possible. "Why'd you have to see?" 

His eyes still unnaturally red.

I shake my head slightly. Aware of his hand reaching for my cheek, frozen in the air, as if held back by some invisible force. "No." I shake my head much more firmly. I don't. I don't want to make the connection consciously that the back of my mind already has. That my mind is insisting of as everything off about him falls into place. 

Alex closes his eyes, taking a step back. "I can let you forget this all if that's what you wish." When he opens his eyes once more, they're back to his normal color. It eases a lump in my throat I hadn't realized had built up. 

This. . .this Alex I might be able to deal with. So much more familiar. If not for the blood on those lips I had spent so many nights kissing.

I rup my temples. "No. No. What the actual fuck."

"El."

"Stay the bloody hell away from me Alex!"

"El please," he pleads, arms held up in a calming motion as though I'm freaking out over nothing. Like he's not a v. . .no. I refuse to go there despite the evidence. "Let's go somewhere to talk."

"I'm not going anywhere alone with you," I spit, stepping back. Wanting to put more distance between us. Had he done that to me? How would I ever even know?

"Of course not," Alex replies, voice wavering, choked full of emotion as he continues, "somewhere crowded-," 

"So you can brainwash me!"

Hurt flashes across his eyes, "I would never hurt you," Alex insists. 

"You already did." I state. Because it had been three months. And Alex, my first serious adult relationship had just-I was left heartbroken. 

He closes his eyes once more sighing. I could run right now. But something more complex than simple fear roots me to this spot in the alley. Alex rubs the bridge of his nose before trying once more.

"El," he sighs with centuries of built up melancholia, "please just listen to me and then you can decide whatever you wish. I'll never bother you again. But El-," his voice breaks. "El I can't refuse for this to be my last memory of you."

My heart flutters, still longing for him even now. Even with the blood drying on his lips. And I can't help but say, "okay."

[broken-clover]

ACC Day 10- Labels

TwT I thought I was doing so well...I made another long one today, which might explain why it’s late. Hope you can forgive me. This was a fun prompt! It was nice to do something a bit unusual with it. Hope you all enjoy!

Today I’m using Roy Carmine from Blazblue, along with some Roylitchi because I can’t help it. It’s also a bit more headcanon-heavy, with autistic bisexual trans man Roy because those are all the ones I have for him.

No matter what, Roy would always remember the first time he met Litchi. Partly because it was one of the biggest social blunders he had ever made, and his anxiety absolutely refused to let it go.

He had been distracted that day, worrying so much about Kokonoe’s project and finding a way to pick up the new temp that he’d wound up plowing right into her as he rounded the corner.

The combination of embarrassment from his own clumsiness and flustered awkwardness from how pretty the new trainee was made him stumble over his words without thinking. Litchi, Litchi, she had such a pretty name. How had Kokonoe not mentioned it until now?

“I-I thought so. I’m Lotte Carmine-”

A sense of dread rose up his chest, and he desperately hoped that Litchi hadn’t heard him right. Did his voice crack? Did he sound funny? This was the last thing he wanted to do upon meeting a new person. After trying so hard to make sure nobody called him that, why did he just go ahead and do it himself?

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Carmine!”

He let out a little exhale internally. Mr. Carmine. She called him Mr. Carmine.

“Oh, feel free to call me Roy.” Maybe he could pass it off as a nickname?

Litchi seemed to take it in stride. Before he knew it, they were falling into an amicable chat, only to be interrupted by Kokonoe. Even as aggravating as she could be, Roy was secretly relieved that Kokonoe wouldn’t stoop to calling him the wrong name on purpose.

He’d always thought Lotte was a dumb name, even for a girl. He didn’t know what had possessed his parents to pick it. He had started going by Roy way back when he was a teenager, when he finally had a word to describe why it felt so wrong when people called him a ‘cute young lady.’ He bemoaned his short stature and higher-pitched voice, but after finding a good binder, cutting his hair short, and finding other little tricks to help him present in a more masculine way, he felt far more comfortable in his own skin.

Even beyond that, though, Roy struggled on how he wanted to label himself. He knew his neurotic personality and social struggles weren’t related to his gender. He wasn’t even sure how to classify his preferences when it came to other people. He knew he loved Litchi, whether she liked him back or not, but he wasn’t entirely sure if he was limited to women. And if he wasn’t, was that bad?

The more he worked with Litchi, the more he realized that there were a lot of secrets she didn’t know about him. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to spill everything all at once. How would she respond? He didn’t want to scare her away.

Would Litchi still like him if he told her everything?

++++++

The first time he let something slip, she had come over to his quarters for dinner. It wasn’t anything fancy, but the experiments had been going well, and they felt like a little celebration had been in order. They’d migrated to the couch afterwards, turning on a sci-fi flick that, to his delight, Litchi enjoyed just as much as he did.

“Wow, the effects in this are excellent!” She said, watching a mechanical monster shudder to life with a roar.

“The casting isn’t too shabby, either. I never expected the main lead to be so well-cast, the guy who did this usually does lower-budget stuff.” He replied with a smile.

Litchi nodded. “He’s rather handsome, too. Something about him.”

“I agree!” Roy felt the blood leave his face as soon as he spoke. Why hadn’t he been thinking?

After a moment, he decided that there wasn’t much of a better time. “Ah...Litchi? Is it okay if I ask you something?”

“Sure, Roy, what is it?” She didn’t seem at all aware of his nervousness as she turned to look at him.

“I’m not entirely sure on this, but...I think I might be bisexual.”

Litchi’s expression didn’t waver. “Oh?”

He didn’t know how to properly respond. “Is that...okay?”

She smiled at him. “Of course it is. I certainly wouldn’t judge you for it. I’m just glad you felt like you could be open with me.”

In that split-second, Roy fell even more in love.

++++++

The second time had come a lot sooner than he would have liked. Then again, his meltdowns often did, too. Unlike the first, it had been the exact opposite of a good day. The lab studies had turned up virtually nothing new for days, the all-nighters had left him on less than four hours of sleep, and Kokonoe had been so annoyed by Relius’ visit that she’d practically thrown the coffee he had made right back in his face. Roy was exhausted, overstimulated, and miserable, which was how he had wound up in the breakroom corner, rocking back and forth while yanking at his hair.

It was embarrassing to have a meltdown in public, but it wasn’t something he could stop. His shirt was wet and gross but he couldn’t take it off, and he was pretty sure it had gotten to his binder, too. He wasn’t sure if he had another clean shirt back at home, but he couldn’t focus enough to get out of his ball on the floor and check.

“Roy?”

In most cases, hearing more voices while he was overstimulated just made things worse. He could recognize Litchi’s voice immediately, though, silky-soft and gentle.

“Roy, are you okay?” She knelt down in front of him. There was concern in her eyes.

He wished he could have responded properly. Talking was too much for him to handle at the moment. The closest he could manage was a gasp and a shudder.

Litchi extended a hand. “Is it alright if I touch you? I just want to make sure you aren’t injured.”

That was something he was pretty sure he could tolerate. Roy managed a nod, and practically melted into Litchi’s warm, careful touch. It was oddly soothing as she meticulously ran fingers over his head and down the base of his neck in search of any wounds. She was sure to calmly explain what she was doing and why she was doing it while she worked, so he knew what was happening.

By the time she was finished, Roy could feel his muscles starting to unclench. He wasn’t prepared to start chatting again, but Litchi gave him another hand and helped him to his feet, which he managed.

“Come on, let’s go back to your room. I’m sure you’d rather get into some dry clothes.”

She was remarkably patient with him, and Roy couldn’t believe how lucky he had gotten. Litchi never snapped at him or glared. She was perfectly willing to wait outside while he changed, pulling on the comfiest shirt he had and wrapping his arms around himself.

“Is everything alright in there?”

“Mmhm.” He paused. “You can come in.”

“Do you feel a bit better now?” Litchi gave him a careful glance.

“A lot. Thanks for helping me…” His faint smile fell. He supposed there wasn’t much beating around the bush. “Litchi? Is it ok if I tell you something?”

“Of course, you can always talk to me.”

“I didn’t mean to cause such a mess earlier. I’m autistic, and I’m not very good at processing a lot of stress and sensory information all at once. Whenever it gets too much for me, I have a meltdown.”

She nodded affirmatively. “I see. I was wondering if it was something like that.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be?” She quirked an eyebrow in genuine puzzlement. “I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to help you sooner. If this starts happening again, just let me know, okay? However I can make it easier for you.”

A moment later, Roy threw his arms around her in a tight hug. She let him.

++++++

Roy wasn’t sure that he would have ever been quite ready to let his last little secret out. He and Litchi had been getting close, to the point where he was almost ready to ask her out on a real, bona-fide date. It felt like there were more important things to worry about. He was just waiting for the right time.

...He was bad at lying to himself.

“According to the weather schedule, it’s going to be excellent beach weather in the next few days.” Litchi spoke up over breakfast. “That sounds fun, doesn’t it? Nice weather, swimming...it’ll be good after such a long winter.”

He could already feel a bit of stress mounting. Excuses weren’t really his strong suit. Litchi sounded so excited about the concept, but it was the last place he wanted to go.

“I’m not really sure, Litchi. I’m not much of a beach person. Maybe somewhere else?”

“Really? You’ve sounded so excited for the weather to get warmer, I thought this would be something you’d love?”

Roy gave a shrug. “I’m not much of a swimmer.”

“Oh. Do you not know how? I can teach you.”

“No, it’s…” This wasn’t getting anywhere. He tried not to groan in frustration. “I just don’t want to, that’s all.” It came out far grumpier than he’d meant to, something he realized as soon as it came out of his mouth.

“...okay, then.” Litchi tried not to sound hurt, but Roy could hear it in her voice. She politely excused herself down to the lab, leaving him alone in the breakroom.

“Damn it…” He put his head in his hands, leaving his food untouched. The sound of shoes clicking made him flinch, but it wasn’t who he had been expecting. “Professor Kokonoe?”

“Trouble in paradise? Sounds like you’re being a lovestruck teenager again, Roy. What was that about?” Kokonoe’s face was in its permanent scowl, already chewing on a lollipop despite it being breakfast.

“I-it’s nothing. Litchi just wanted to go to the beach.”

“Oh.” She sounded utterly unphased. “Haven’t told her yet, then?”

Of course Kokonoe knew. She needed to have his medical files when he started working. He was still amazed she hadn’t let anything slip.

“I can’t think of a good reason to. That’s all.”

Kokonoe seemed even less impressed. “Bullshit. Look, I know this is a really difficult thing for you, but do you really think Litchi of all people is gonna care? Trying to keep secrets is just gonna stress you out.”

Roy faltered. “I...don’t know.”

For once, the professor’s severe expression faded. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s Litchi. She’s practically smitten with you already. I don’t think she’s suddenly gonna hate you for something like that.”

Loathe to admit it, she was actually making some good points. He didn’t want to consider the possibility of tiptoeing around Litchi forever. Maybe it would just be easier if he was upfront.

“Roy, have you seen-” Litchi cut herself off, spotting Kokonoe as she re-entered the room. “There you are, professor. I was just looking for you.”

“Yeah? Whattaya need?” She reached up to scratch one of her ears.

“I’ve made some adjustments to my calculations, I was wondering if you could proofread them?”

“That’s all? Yeah, yeah, I can look it over later. I’m sure it’s fine, you always double-check.”

Litchi was taken aback by the sudden response, but nodded. “Alright, then. I guess I’ll head back to work, then. Anything else before I go?”

“I got nothing.” While she spoke, Roy caught a look flashed in his direction, just for a split-second.

“Okay. Let me know if-”

“Litchi?”

The woman paused, turning back around. “Did you need something, Roy?”

“Sort of.” He wrung his hands together. “We’re honest with each other, right? Like the last time. I can tell you things, can’t I?”

Based on Litchi’s expression, she knew what he was recalling. “Absolutely, Roy. I want you to trust me. Is something wrong?”

His mind was yelling at him to stop talking, bail, emergency exit. Roy continued on anyway. “Maybe I should have told you earlier, but I was afraid. I didn’t know what you’d think of me. I wanted to be friends.”

“Roy…?”

“Remember back on the first day you came to work in the lab? When we first talked?”

She nodded silently.

“I told you my name was Lotte. That’s-” he tried to think of a good way to phrase it “-my birth name. My deadname. I’m a trans man.”

Litchi was silent. Roy braced himself for shouting, for disappointed looks, for anything she could possibly throw at him. He had finally told her, now all that was left was to see what came of it.

“...You aren’t binding with bandages, are you?”

“What?” He was so taken off-guard by the question, he could hardly respond. “N-no, of course I don’t.”

“Good.” There was a steely glint in the woman’s eyes. “I figured you’d know better, but I thought I’d ask just in case. I see why you wouldn’t want to go to the beach, then. I definitely don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, is there someplace else you’d like to- Roy, are you crying?”

Was he crying? He didn’t even notice until she mentioned it. It felt like a good cry, though. All the fear and paranoia that had been stockpiling for a long time all flooded out at once.

“C’mere…” Litchi pulled him in for a hug. He buried himself in her shoulder, tears of relief running down his face.

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course I’m not.” She left a kiss on his temple. “No matter what, you’re still Roy. And you’re still my friend.”

[kawaiibobatea-blog]

Chapter 01: Problems

It had been almost ten years since he had first seen the sun descending beyond the horizon. It had been almost ten years since he had seen the stars for the first time. Frisk had said she wanted to see the stars with him. Despite the nervousness he carried then, he followed. He had been worried that what he had conjured in his mind of the vision of "stars" wouldn't match the real thing. He has been right. Sitting at the edge of the cliff that overlooked Ebott City he has thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. However, that was then and this was now. Now, he knew he was in trouble.

Tapping his phalanges against the weathered teak of the bar he knew so well, he waited for Grillby to bring out his order. Sitting at the bar, surrounded by dark oak booths that sported the carmine cushions, decorating the edges of the restaurant section used to give him a sense of comfort. Key words "used to". Nothing in the world gave him comfort and ease right now. The warm chestnut of the bar at the front made him anxious, the light cinnamon of the floors filled him to his marrow of worry. He exhaled, more of a sigh actually, for what was probably the hundredth time in five minutes.

'what's takin' grillbs so long?' He thought. If he was giving him some time to think, honestly, that was the last thing he wanted or needed right now. Being alone to his thoughts was a one way ticket to making him smash his skull against the bar in a vain attempt to knock himself out. Knowing him though, he'd probably wouldn't be able to get away from his problems even in his dreams. No, that would actually be the worst place to be. In his dreams, he couldn't push his problems aside and focus on something else. He'd be forced to face his troubles head on, and when he woke up they would just slam into him harder.

For the past--he wanted to say three years--he had these troubles. Nagging at the back of his skull every day had become tiring. In order to, for lack of a better word, combat these troubles constantly penetrating every thought he had, he chose... distractions. It was no secret among his friends--and some other monsters--that he had become promiscuous in an attempt to distract himself along with the constant extra supply of ketchup Grillby now had to constantly order. He wouldn't exactly say that he was a "ketchup-holic", but he's never acted like this before in his life. He had even resorted to using mustard on some occasions, which if you had offered him the stuff in the underground, he would've laughed at you.

More than worrying, it aggravated him. Before, he had been content in his lazy life, not even getting enough incentive to clean his room. Now it was becoming different, albeit not completely nor constant. Papyrus almost had a SOUL attack when he moved a sock from the place it had been sitting for almost the whole time they had been on the surface. He had even checked to see if he was sick. Adding one more number to his sigh count, it seemed to be the magic number for Grillby had come from the back and sat the fries down in front of him. "thanks grillbs..." Sans trailed off.

Taking the bottle of ketchup, he put some on his fries and took a deep drink of some more from the bottle. A concerned crackle of the fire elemental in front of him made him look up. Grillby had never really been one for conversation, only talking when something was really urgent. It was a trait that had confused most humans once he opened his bar on the surface as well as aggravated some others.

Sans couldn't really fault him for not talking, Grillbs had always been more of a listener anyway, settling for an emotional crackle in response. "yeah, i'm fine..." Grillby adjusted his glasses, not taking his gaze away from Sans. His glare could practically pierce holes into you from how intense it could be. "... i said i'm fine." Another glare. "and i'm supposed to do what about it?" This time, Grillby was the one to pause. This crackle was thoughtful. He took his rag and began to wipe at the ever clean bar. Call it a 'tick' if you would, perhaps a way to clear his mind. Many a time, Grillbs would end up wiping down the bar at least twenty times before he answered a puzzling question. "exactly."

However, this time it was only around six times he wiped down the bar before looking at Sans once more. It seemed like he came to the conclusion faster than he, or Sans had expected. Adjusting his glasses again, he watched as Grillby gave his version of a sigh, sounding like a campfire. "can you just get me another bottle, campfire?" He asked. Without taking his eye off of Sans, he reached under the counter and handed Sans another bottle. This time it was a warning crackle that came from his friend. "... i'm fine." Sans assured. "and i don't have a problem."

Grillby had stopped wiping the glass that also seemed to never be clean enough for his tastes, or perhaps it was another tick. Either way, Sans was faced with another intense gaze. "Mustard." Grillby said. Ya see? Never said more than what was necessary. Even though his voice was warm--no pun intended for once--and many humans liked it, never more than necessary. "you didn't have any ketchup." Sans waved his hand dismissively, eating at the fries, hoping to at least put a dent in the heaping pile before they grew cold or he grew aggravated enough to leave. The former seemed more probable than the latter. It seemed that Grillby was done talking because he went back to shining the glass. This time it was a pointed crackle, and Sans knew that he had just proved Grillbs' point, of course, he'd never admit to that.

Seconds turned into minutes, and before he knew it, about five minutes had passed with neither one of them talking--or crackling. Perhaps Grillby was waiting for him to finish his fries before he laid into him again. He hoped that Grillby was done with the lectures, at least for today. He gave longer lectures than Paps, which said a lot. Sans had fallen asleep at the mercy of his brother's lectures before, which only got a rise out of his younger brother and led him right into another lecture. When Grillby seemed like he had given Sans enough time to think, he started again. This time the sound that came from him was worry.

However, Sans continued to eat his fries. He wasn't snubbing his friend, he was thinking. "you really think i have a problem?" An affirmative crackle. "hmm." was Sans' only response, popping the last fry into his mouth. Without asking, another bottle of ketchup appeared in front of him. One would think Grillby would cut him off. After all, he had wracked up more than ten year's worth of money for his tab, but Grillby never seemed to mind. "if i have a problem, you're not helping, bud." Sans prodded. If Grillby could give a convincing eye roll, Sans was sure he would have. Nevertheless not looking a gift horse in the mouth, he began to drink from the bottle as Grillbs went back to shining the glass which for anyone else could blind them by how reflective it was.

Ten bottles later, forty five minutes later, and four orders of fries later it couldn't be denied that Sans was drunk. Yes, that's right. Drunk. Leaning on the bar ever so slightly, another bottle was sat in front of him. "y'know what i don't understand?" Sans' speech had become slightly slurred. An inquisitive crackle. "those creatures." "Women." Grillby corrected. " 'hat's whad i said." Grillby conceded. There was no point in arguing. He handed his friend another bottle. The reason Grillby had never really cut Sans off, as many humans had asked, before was that it wasn't toxic. It was ketchup, for some reason, Sans got drunk off it. If it was one of his human patrons on the other hand, and they were drinking alcohol, they would have been cut off LONG ago. Sans downed the bottle in almost three gulps. "whatcha think the reason was?" Sans asked, wiping his hand down his face. Another bottle. Actually... three? Or was it triple vision already. He was always thankful monsters never got hangovers, or he would've long been dead... Uh... Re-dead? A thoughtful crackle. "Worried?" "of course ya campfire..." "Ten years." "i know howta count." Grillby didn't argue, or crackle on the contrary. " 'fore ya say 'nythin' i did ask." Grillby cracked a smirk. "i know ya well enough t' know ya were gonna ask."

Sans asked himself why it mattered for the hundredth time. It was ten years ago after all, whatever the reason was it was probably long gone by now. That nagging feeling was the problem though, well another problem in addition to his MAIN problem. What if the reason wasn't gone? What if it was a bad reason to begin with? No matter what he had asked, he was always met with "Don't worry". That's one of the things that aggravated him most. Those dismissive answers. He hated them. "y'know, i try t' have fun, that's apparently a crime. "Fun?" Ignoring Grillby, Sans continued. "i try t' care, but i don't get met with anythin' but nothin'." Sans let his skull meet the bar again with another sigh. Grillby let out an concerned crackle and stopped shining his glass. " 'm goin' home." Sans muttered under his breath and stood up. "put it on my tab, Grillbs."

He said, staggering towards the exit. Thankfully, Grillby's wasn't crowded tonight, or he might've embarrassed himself. Just a few monsters here and there that knew of his problems. After what felt like the walk of a lifetime, Sans had made it to the door. Taking one hand out of his pocket, he reached for the doorknob only to have it turn and the door open in front of him. For a moment, he thought maybe he had used some magic in his drunken state, but when his white pin pricks of pupils looked up, he sighed again, instantly returning his hand to his pocket.

Anger. Frustration. Headache. It was all packed into this small twenty year old girl in front of him. "Sans!" Her voice was happy to see him. "I should've known you'd be here. I've been looking for you." Not surprised or impressed, he tried to blink her into focus. ". . ." "Sans?" ". . . why?" That's not what he meant to say, but it was good enough. "Huh?" She seemed shocked. Good. "Uh, all of us were going out for snacks over at Muffet's then maybe karaoke at... at Mettaton's new place..." By the end, her voice was trailing off. "pass." "Sans? ... Are you okay? What's wrong?" Her voice seemed genuinely concerned. Dammit... She reached out her hand to him and he moved away, not letting her touch him. "don't worry." He said, it seemed to be the final nail in the coffin for her tonight, her hand falling back at her side. He felt accomplished in a sort of twisted way. As he left Grillby's, the last sound he heard from inside was Grillby's campfire sigh.

[hansolmates]

vernon; drunk on youth (m)

genre: fluff/romance and a lil bit of the steamy steam ;)

word count: 8495

characters: Hansol Vernon Chwe/Original Female, bff!Jeonghan + various

prompts: seven(teen) minutes in heaven, university!AU with fraternity!Seventeen, one night stand(?), friends-to-lovers 

*this references to traditional American University Greek life, referring to members as “brothers”, if you’re confused please message me! feelin hella clever that SVT/ ΣΛΤ was managed to be made in the greek alphabet

a happy birthday gift to my sol @vernkn

Hansol Vernon Chwe, she tried to unsuccessfully convince herself, meant nothing to her.

Not when he walked into 18th Century Children’s Literature every Monday and Wednesday, looking like the dead bird her pet cat dragged in when she was three. His ebony strands would stick out like dead twigs, usually muffled by a worn navy baseball cap with the lid twirled behind his neck. He never made a fuss when he entered a minute before the class would start, rushing to the nearest empty desk with his head down, lost in thought. Even though it was an afternoon class, he still managed to look like he walked right out of bed and into lecture.

He meant nothing to her, when he seldom spoke in their seminar, tucked away in the back scribbling notes. Especially not when he’d pipe up for class participation every other blue moon, speaking with sudden austerity about how the English language is so convoluted, his voice strangely comparable to the thickness of raw honey.

Not when at the end of each month, he’d show up looking like a human being. His clothing range was thin, in the warmer months he had basketball shorts and a colorful t-shirt, and during the colder months it seemed like he had an infinite number of hoodies and sweatpants. For whatever reason he would take the last Wednesday of every month to look stunningly decent. Last month, he showed up in a crisp black and red flannel over a wool cardigan. His denim was ripped around the knees, revealing a pale, yet strong set of thighs that left much to the imagination. Cap free, his hair was pushed away in a black silk coif to accentuate the twinkly, attentive milk chocolate eyes that hit a little too close to the blooming butterflies in her stomach.

Nope, he meant nothing to her. Not at all.

“If you’ve checked the syllabus, you should know that the final project is due at the end of the month in addition to the final paper. In order to save time to focus on your papers,” she let out a long sigh of relief at her professor’s short-lived reprieve, “I’m cutting your workload in half. There’s thirty-two of you, so I expect sixteen pairs by the end of this week with a working thesis.”

Fuck.

Her hand immediately reached for Yoon Jeonghan’s, clutching the cuff of his pearl white button-up. “Jeonghan, be my partner.” she blurted with pleading eyes.

He raised an eyebrow, quirking an amused smile on his features. Delicately removing her hand from her grasp he said, “I’m the TA. I can’t be anyone’s partner.” he stated like it was the most basic thing in the world. “I think Hansol’s free.” he jerked his head towards the middle of the room, where sure enough, Hansol was looking wide-eyed at the number of already established pairs, looking for an available patron. 

“Exactly. That’s why I need you to be my partner.”

“Like I said, Hansol’s free. And by free, I also mean he’s single.”

“I didn’t ask about his relationship status.” she deadpanned, giving him a deadly look.

“Yeah, but you were thinking it.”

“Goddammit Jeonghan go to hell—”

“Hansol-ah! Do you still need a partner?” Jeonghan called him out like the perfect teacher’s assistant he was paid to do, waving his hand towards her.

Hansol’s gaze drifted to the pair, his eyes lighting up like the way birthday candles sparked as he went up to their desks. He gave her a warm smile, nodding his head towards her. “Hey.” he said easily.

“Hi.” she piped out, willing her voice not to squeak at how close he was. God, he was adorable.

“Well, my job is done.” Jeonghan clasped his hands, giving the two the fakest, brightest commercial smile he could gleam. He squeezed Hansol’s shoulder, “I’ll see you later at the house?”

“Yeah man.” Hansol gave him a little fistbump. To her, Jeonghan twiddled his fingers in a goodbye, snatching away his briefcase and walking out the classroom.

In a span of thirty seconds she was putty under Jeonghan’s grasp, falling into a trap she was probably fated to meet all along. Hansol Vernon Chwe, would absolutely destroy her sanity. How was she going to force herself to focus on passing this class if she had this boy, both gorgeous in intellect and just plain gorgeous, working with her the rest of the semester?

“So uh, you live with Jeonghan?” she tried, hoping her tone was as even as possible.

“Yeah.” he replied easily, leaning against the desk. A lot of the students were filing out of the classroom after finding their partners, but Hansol didn’t seem to be in too much of a rush. It even looked like he was settling, enjoying his time making small talk with her. “We’re brothers in Sigma Lambda Tau. He was the one who convinced me to take this class.”

Of course, it was all Jeonghan’s fault that she had this silly crush. She forced a laugh, her eyes scrunching into crescents. “Good thing you did! It’s a great class, the pieces we read are really beautiful.”

“The class is interesting, and you’re right. Everything here’s really beautiful. Good thing Jeonghan suggested it to me to fulfill my English requirement.” Hansol bit his lip, breaking his gaze from her to look down at his beat up Timberlands, which clashed against the soft material of his light grey sweatpants. “You make a lot of good points, I like hearing your ideas during debate.” 

She tightened her hold on the desk, fingers curling at the thought that Hansol was actually listening to what she said in class. “Your points are good too!” she shot back, causing his eyes to widen comically. “I mean, uh, when you do speak in class. Which is like, never.”

He chuckled, tilting his head so that she could see the onyx strands flutter over his forehead. “It’s hard to speak in class when there’s people like you, I bet you’re really smart.” he said.

Was this some sort of strange, intellectual way of flirting? She hoped so, it felt a hell of a lot better than being complimented on her appearance. At the same time, his notice seemed like wishful thinking. It looked like Hansol was the kind of guy who’d go out of their way to make everyone seem extra special, he was just that positive a person. Her thoughts flashed back to the smug look Jeonghan gave her, probably reveling in the fact that she was being taken over by a little crush over someone she barely knew. And now that Hansol was right in front of her, there was no way was she letting these petty feelings ruin herself.

“I guess you’ll have to find out when we work together.” she finally managed to say, nervously biting the inside of her cheek.

Hansol’s eyebrows shot up to his cap, and she got a clear view of how absolutely stunning his carmine eyes were, both enthralling and mesmerizing. He gave her a funny look, “Is that supposed to be a challenge?”

Either she was a terrible flirt, or he was just downright oblivious. Putting herself out of her misery, she threw in the towel and pulled out her phone, handing it to her. “Depends if you’re up for it. Let’s exchange numbers so we can set up a work schedule.”

He pursed his lips, pulling out his matte black iPhone in return. “Sounds like a plan.” it was only a couple swipes before he handed the phone back to her. He grinned toothily, “Pleasure doing business with you.” he drawled, picking up his things.

“Uh, same here?” she replied dumbly, letting the proffered device fall back in her grasp.

“I’ll see you soon,” his bag zinged with a sharp whirr of his zipper, throwing it over his shoulder.

“Okay, I’ll text you later.” she said with a wave.

He wasn’t even a quarter way out the lecture hall before he popped his head back in view, his dimples jutting between his grin. “I’ll be waiting.” he said, before running out to his next class.

It was only five seconds later that she allowed herself to breathe, swooning against the edge of her desk as she let her thoughts bounce in the confines of her brain. She didn’t think it would be that damaging to her heart, but she swore she could feel a tingling sensation in her chest, one that worked its way through every nerve of her body. She let a small, secretive smile worm its way onto her lips as she packed up her things. First impressions weren’t so bad, it confirmed her thoughts that Hansol was a complete and utter sweetheart, and she had his undivided attention for the next few weeks.

So maybe, Hansol meant something to her.

A couple days later, they managed to snag a team room to themselves in the library. It was one of those fancy ones with those smart computer boards and wheelie chairs that no one needed, and completely and utterly soundproof to the rest of the building. She already had the basic outline of the project down, and Hansol so graciously took care of the other half, so all they had to do now was put it together over the course of the month.

Hansol was a little late to their meeting, and it was strangely quiet and slightly uncomfortable for her to be taking up this space alone. So she tried her best not to let her eyes linger by the door’s window, and made sure to keep her face glued to her computer screen which showed parts of their presentation. Slightly flustered she ran a rough hand through her hair, forcing her eyes on her open document. Her palms were sweaty and her face was flushed with heat, she slapped her hands over her face to stop the nerves from getting to her. It was just Hansol and her studying.

Hansol. And her. Alone. For hours. In this room all to themselves.

She let her forehead crash on the linoleum table with a muffled groan, the impact echoing throughout the window spanned room.

“Hey uh, are you okay?”

Her head shot up, nearly crashing into Hansol’s, who deflected just in time. He was unbearably close, that she could make out the way his long eyelashes fluttered in her direction.  She forced an uneasy smile, rubbing her head self-consciously. He just walked in, backpack and coat still on his body, and the frosty remnants of snow glittered on his fringe. He was wearing the same clothes she saw him in last class, she noted. Dammit, why didn’t she notice him walk in?

“I’m fine,” she managed to say, “Just stress. The final paper is just killing me.”

He gave a wan smile in return, pulling up a chair for himself. “Nah, I get it. If you need a shoulder to cry on, I gotchu.”

She laughed, this time genuinely. “Thanks.”

“So uh, I’m sorry I’m late. And since I was late anyway I figured, why not get breakfast on the way too? Did you eat?” and Hansol pulled out a metal thermos and a paper bag from his backpack, neatly arranging two plump blueberry muffins side-by-side on a napkin.

She paused, her eyes drifting over the humble looking breakfast that he probably dashed from the dining hall on his way here. Fuck he got me muffins. That’s so adorable.

He took her silence as a subtle rejection, and his face fell, spluttering in defense, “Oh, god. Please don’t tell me you’re allergic to blueberries or something. Or I’m offending you if you hate muffins or something, although I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to hate muffins. I think there were chocolate croissants too if you want—”

She giggled, shaking her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just,” she picked up a muffin, still warm from the hotplate, and she took a bite.  “It’s just that you’re really, really cute.”

“Cute?” he repeated dumbly, as if she had said the farthest potential reply from his mind.

“Yes, cute. You show up here apologizing with muffins. That’s cute.”

“Well, thank you, I guess?” he rubbed the back of his neck, looking the other way.

Finally, a giggle escaped his lips, sounding melodic and bubbly to her ears. It seemed like he hadn’t been called cute in a long, long while. Even moreso, Hansol seemed both easy to tease and fluster, and it made the time they had together a whole lot easier for her. He coughed, his cheeks a pretty petal pink as he pulled out random textbooks, occupying his hands and taking the first one he could open.  

“So uh, let’s start working?” he asked, covering his blush, “Paracyclic reactions by organic synthesis, right?” His book was upside down.

“Uh, Hansol?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re studying English, not Organic Chemistry.”

“Oh, right.” he crinkled his nose, giving a shy grin in apology.

And from there, the semester ended gracefully. She felt a sudden surge of pride knowing that the two of them worked surprisingly well together, and even though they had a few glitches on the fray, within a couple weeks they were able to successfully present their final project. Hansol spoke more in those ten minutes presenting than he did in the entire semester, and to her it was one of the most satisfying ten minutes of her life, knowing that she was able to help him raise his voice and work together to get their thesis across. Jeonghan was impressed, their professor was impressed, and she was incredibly happy with the progress they made in such a short amount of time.

Their class ended like any other class. She and Hansol shook hands, a warm attachment of palms that may have grasped a little too long, accompanied with gazes that were a little too deep. She shook those romantic thoughts away, knowing the forced smiles and cordial lines she had said over and over to countless other students (“Good luck with everything! Hopefully we’ll see each other around next semester!”) would only be in vain.

And so with those goodbyes, so went the delayed goodbye of her crush on Hansol. 

She decided she was going to leave this semester on a high note, filling it with copious amounts of Rocky Road ice cream and her favorite fuzzy blanket. She was the only one in her suite tonight, the rest of her roommates either studying or taking the last round of exams. So when the door clicked open just as she was ready to take a nap, she didn't bother turning to greet anyone.

“What, did you forget something?” she murmured sleepily, muffling a yawn as she sunk deeper into the couch.

“Yup, I forgot you.”

Wide awake at the familiar milk-and-honey drawl, she shot up, already fearing the worst. She ripped off her blankets, whipping her body around to face the wicked gaze of Yoon Jeonghan.

“I knew giving you the pass key was a bad idea.” she sighed regretfully, dropping to the couch. “What do you want?”

“Our house is throwing a party, and you're coming with me. And I brought pre-game.” he waved a flask in the air, closing the door behind him. He made a show of slipping off his khaki canvas sneakers, putting them on the shoe rack next to hers. He then took off his blazer, putting it on a hanger like it was his place. “Your room is here, right?” he said, walking into the nearest bedroom like it was muscle memory.

“Jeonghan, I don't want to go to some party. What’s it even for?” she sighed in exhaustion, following him into her bedroom. He was already halfway with digging through her wardrobe, making the messy lump of clothes an even messier lump than it was before.

“Soonyoung’s throwing a party before he sells his soul to the Dance Department and becomes a graduate student.” he said loftily, picking away an item with his two fingers.

“I don’t even know that guy.”

“Oh, it doesn’t really matter if you know him or not. But in any case, you will.” Jeonghan was finally satisfied with a particular article, and threw off its wire hanger. It was a simple black number that cut off to her mid-thigh. This one hugged her body sinfully well and had cap sleeves and a scalloped neckline that dipped invitingly to her chest. He threw it on the bed. “Wear this one.” he commanded, going through another set of drawers.

She made a face, “The last time I wore that thing was at a funeral.”

“Then you’ll look so sexy in it that it’ll wake up the dead.” he pulled out a comfy but flattering bra, and gave an experimental squeeze at the colorful lilac padding. “This one makes your cleave look real good.” he couldn’t help but chuckle, throwing the garment in her face.

“I hate you.”

“Trust me, you won’t be hating me later.”

And that’s how she ended up with an uneaten pint of Rocky Road ice cream that had to be put back in the lonely freezer, walking into a fraternity house with a bunch of students she never met in her entire life. She held Jeonghan’s arm in a vice, fingernails curling over the edge of his charcoal button down. If he so dared to leave her alone in the middle of this, she’d really kill him.

The house was like any other house on Greek Row, one with history and a reputable brotherhood. The party itself wasn’t overly crowded like typical social fraternities, there was enough dancing space to avoid but there was certainly a sizable enough group that had an air of fervor and bumbling energy that already had her itching for something to drink. She fixed her vision multiple times on girls and boys alike, fascinated at the way their bodies captured the music, running on alcohol and the pent-up stress of finals week. Jeonghan pulled her to the refreshments table in the corner of the living room, with a walkway that led to a small kitchen. On top of the table there was a simple picture frame tacked to the wall, a happy image of thirteen boys sitting atop a backyard porch.

As Jeonghan mixed them their first round, she slowly scoped out the people in the room, letting the colorful EDM music wash over her ears. By all means, spending the evening here wasn’t a bad place to end the semester. They were a good group of brothers, with a clean reputation and a sizable dent in community service. Her eyes drifted to the person at the front of the room who wore a large pair of headphones which engulfed his ears as he bobbed his head to the beat. While she didn’t know all the people here, she definitely knew Lee Jihoon, which guaranteed a great party if he was managing the music.

“It’s been awhile since you’ve been here.” Jeonghan said, loud enough to hear over the music, but soft enough for her ears alone.

“Yeah, probably in the summer? When we were picking classes and stuff.” she took his proffered drink, taking an experimental sip. The warm buzz that she had sorely abandoned for the past few weeks returned to her like an aching crave. “It’s nice, for once I can finally see the floorboards.”

“And you know what else is nice?” he jerked a pinky at her form, “My jacket. Can I have it back, please? I let you wear it on the way here because it was cold, but you don’t need it anymore.”

She glowered, tugging the long blazer closer to her body. She turned her head self-consciously to a group of girls, about nine or ten of them huddled amongst each other by the DJ. They must’ve been freshmen or something, because they were dolled up to the nines. She noticed them immediately upon walking in, like diamonds in the middle of the dark. Despite the fact that they were all wearing sneakers they had glossy pale legs that lasted for miles, and they all looked so pretty and pristine it made her feel like a grandma. She didn’t know whether she should approach them and ask for tips or to be sorely intimidated.

Jeonghan followed her eyes when she didn’t answer, and he scoffed, ripping the drink out of her hands and putting both of them on the table. “Oh, hell no. I didn’t waste my time for you to get all insecure over some try-hard freshmen.” he quipped, putting an arm around her comfortingly. “You look hot, what’s the point of wearing a cute outfit if you’re not showing it off?”

She bit the inside of her cheek, looking up at Jeonghan with a sudden flash of scarlet anger. She wasn’t angry at him, however she was angry that he was right, and she couldn’t fault him for that. It was the last night of the semester, and she was going to have fun. Snatching the drink from the table, she couldn’t tell if it was her’s or Jeonghan’s, she downed the alcohol raw, smacking the empty red cup against the hardwood. It was definitely Jeonghan’s cup, because it tasted a hell of a lot stronger, but she no longer cared. In a matter of seconds, she ripped off his blazer, and threw it back to Jeonghan, letting the air meet the span of her bare skin. She exhaled, smoothing out the wrinkles and straightening her posture, letting her curves and chest perk out fully.

She grinned, twirling around, “You’re right.”

“I know,” he gave a grin of his own, and went over to whisper in her ear. “And y’know what, screw those girls. Because ever since we got here, the only one Hansol’s looking at is you.”  

A bolt of lightning shot through her body, one that both feared and excited her to the core. Suddenly conscious of her audience of one, she subtly inched her gaze around the room, before it fell on a certain someone that took Children’s Literature with her just a week ago.

Hansol was with a group of guys, who were laughing about some insider that she had no care in the world for. Hansol didn’t seem to care much either, a red cup fitted in his lazy grasp, and his head turned away from them. He didn’t seem to notice her, but she did. He looked damn fine, he was wearing those black jeans again, the ones that ripped at his milky thighs, and a burgundy Henley quarter-sleeve with all the buttons undone. With that his collarbones were exposed, and she noted the way his Adam’s apple bobbed slowly, like a pendulum. She was suddenly mesmerized by his darkened caramel gaze, hooded in the low-lights. She had never seen this side of Hansol before, coupled with admiration and curious desire. It was both focused and unfocused as it glazed down-up from her legs to her thighs, lingering to the way her dress hugged her waist and left a sizable expanse of cleavage from the neckline. His lips were glistening like fresh strawberries and parted slightly, like a kitten thirsty for milk.

It was probably the most sensual episode of checking out she had ever experienced. He wasn't even touching her and she was already turned on.

Before she could embarrass him from his staring, she turned her head back to face Jeonghan. He had two tiny plastic shot glasses in hand, giving one to her. He winked, “Liquid courage.” She tilted her head at the thin, crystal clear liquid, before downing it in one gulp. She wrinkled her nose, unable to tell whether the buzz was coming from the soju or a massive headache.

This was it, she was going to snag Hansol Vernon Chwe and end off this semester with a bang.

“LEE CHAN, YOU’RE BACK!”

Jihoon cut the music out with a zzrrt, a strangely fitting rapture that was comparable to tires squeaking on asphalt. Everyone was thrusted on the situation before them, where the moonlight bled into the house. Chan was at the foot of the door, cases of drinks perched on each arm. He didn’t seem amused. The person who outbursted was none other than the star of the party, Kwon Soonyoung. He literally was the highlight of the party as he stood from the center of the dance floor, his eyes sunlight bright and his mouth parted in a wide, excited smile.

“You said you wouldn’t start dancing without me!” Chan whined, the poor freshmen, dropping the cases haphazardly with the rest of the booze.

“Yeah, but!” Soonyoung ushered people off the dance floor, moving in some semblance of a circle as he cleared a space. “Now we can play Seventeen Minutes!”

Her jaw dropped at the show before them. “Does he mean, Seven Minutes in Heaven?” she half-hissed to Jeonghan, giving him a warning glare.

He shrugged, “It’s stupid, I know. Just let him live, it’s his party.”

She felt like she was thrusted in some strange reincarnation of an awkward high school birthday party, the ones you saw in American movies in the comfort of your parent’s smelly basement. But this was a little more realer than that. She didn’t think she’d ever have to face a childish game like this, but she suddenly felt rooted to the ground, caught between a rock and a hard place.

“I already made papers with everyone’s name,” Soonyoung sing-songed, pulling out a neon green snapback from the mantel. True to his word, he shook it once, the soft tumble of folded paper echoing in the room. The eager freshmen walked up to grab them first, in hopes of getting a little something special from any of the house brothers. “The first half of the room gets papers, the other waits!” he trilled. 

“He made papers.” she deadpanned in shock, tugging on Jeonghan’s arm. “Please don’t tell me you put my name down.”

“I didn’t put your name down.” he said immediately, shamelessly.

“Fuck Jeonghan, you’re lying to me.”

“Relax, just have fun.” he filled up his cup, pulling them further into the circle.

She watched with trepidation as each partygoer grabbed a piece of paper, some looking mildly interested to keep Soonyoung satisfied, others with a subtle smile and a secretive nod to others in the room. Jihoon took it as his cue, and started to play some slow, sexy acoustic music that coalesced the room in a wanton heat that prompted gooseflesh on her bare skin. Forcing herself to stay calm because she was an adult with morals, she looked back to Hansol, who hadn’t moved from his spot. This time, he was giving her a gummy grin and a wave, as if he totally wasn’t just checking her out five minutes ago. She couldn’t help but smile and wave back, feeling the familiar butterflies rumble pleasantly in her stomach. This boy would be the death of her.

Her smile faded into a shocked gape when Soonyoung thrusted the snapback in her chest, “Last one.” he drawled with a wink, waving the cap back and forth.

Caught in his positive gaze, she took the last paper, numb. She gave a cautious look to Jeonghan, who already peeked at his sheet. He gave her a curious look, egging her to open her sheet. She sighed, and ripped the bandage, unwrapping the crisply folded paper.

Yoon Jeonghan, 1:40.

A loud laugh escaped from her lips, interfering with Jihoon’s blast of house music, returning the party back to its full swing. She wobbled on her feet, the intake of soju quickly catching up to her empty stomach. “Hey Jeonghan, are you a good kisser?” she blurted, shoving him her paper so it was right in his face.

As soon as he saw his name, a full-toothed grin (if she was in the right mind, she’d be hitting him by now) latched onto his face, and he snatched the paper from her grasp, and handed her the one he took. “Oh, this is cruel fate.” he chuckled.

“What?” she furrowed her brows in snafu, opening Jeonghan’s sheet:

Hansol Vernon Chwe, 12:20.

She sobered up for those few seconds, her eyes focusing on the fact that Jeonghan was giving her Hansol’s sheet. She crumpled the paper, “Nice try. But I can’t do Seven Minutes in Heaven with him.” she replied bluntly, trying her hardest to convince herself that she couldn’t do this to herself.

“It’s Seventeen Minutes. And think how much it would suck for him if he waits all night for someone to kiss him, and realizes it’ll never come.” he pushed her back to Hansol’s direction. “You have five minutes until 12:20.”

She bit her lip, feeling the paper get warm and clammy in her grip. Her face was red, a combination of the alcohol and embarrassment. She felt awfully tight and stuffy in her dress, the bass laden music melting in the background as she watched Hansol take a final drink with his friends in the corner. He took a misstep, moving slowly as he backed away from his crew, walking towards the kitchen.

“C’mon, he’s getting away.” Jeonghan taunted, making a ‘tick tick’ sound effect.

With a final dirty look, she grabbed his cup one more time, downing his shot. “Shut up.” and went after Hansol.

She weaved between the crowds of people, some already cutting to the Seven Minutes and making out against the wall, and her heart palpitated obnoxiously at the thought that it could happen to her. That is, if Hansol wanted it too. She managed to catch him before he left the kitchen, making his way alone to a tiny stairwell that led downstairs. Slipping off her kitten heels and throwing them under a random bench, she went after him. Keeping a tight grip on the banister, she managed not to look that much of a hot mess as she stumbled down the stairs.

These lights were even dimmer than the living room’s, fueled by a marigold yellow lightbulb that barely lit an eighth of the room. It was a laundry room, the faint scent of artificial flowers and fabric softener wafting in the air. Hansol’s back was facing her, his head right under the light bulb like a halo, pressing buttons on the washing machine.

“Hey.” she finally said.

He jumped, startled, his head brushing against the light bulb. It caused the room to dance back and forth, shadows watching over them like saints. He turned, and when he realized it was only her, he softened. “Hi.” he said, leaning against the washing machine.

“Why do you look so good tonight?” she blurted, unable to decipher whether it was her or the soju talking.

“What?” he giggled, making a funny face.

“I mean, you always look good, it’s just.” she walked forward, barefooted, taking careful steps towards him. The light hadn’t stopped moving, waving against the cut of Hansol’s jawline. “At the end of every month, you’d show up to class wearing a nice outfit. It’s Wednesday today, too.” she hiccuped, watching the way his eyes opened like a deep mahogany ocean.

“Y-you notice me?” he sputtered, hands gripping at the cool metal of the washer.

Feeling bolder by the second, she nodded quickly. “Of course I do. How could I not? I’m a sucker for people like you, people who actually care about class and can talk literature with me.”

“Uh, the reason why I dress nicely at the end of the month isn’t anything special.” he managed to say, his eyes trying its hardest not to navigate along the way the light bounced on her ample cleavage. He ran a hand through his dark hair self-consciously, showing off his forehead. “It’s just that I run out of clean laundry and the nice stuff are the only clothes I have left.” he knocked the washer so that the metal would reverberate between them.

She stopped her act of seduction at the genuine confession, and couldn’t help but laugh, a dulcet smile overtaking her visage. It was like they were back to doing their project, spending another sleepless night together, taking breaks and having random conversation. “Why are you doing laundry now?” she asked between her fit of giggles.

“Because I’m pretty super turnt up. I just took four shots and I thought “hey, it’s good time as any since I ran out of underwear like, this morning.””  

“You’re so funny.” she said honestly, clutching her stomach.

He gave a wry grin, “So I’ve been told.”

She held up the piece of paper she had fisted the entire way here, holding it up to the light. “I got you for my Seven Minutes.”

He stared at the crumpled sheet, realizing its implications. His expression was unreasonable, and he made no move to indicate anything. “Oh.” he blinked, the emptiness of his reply leaving an awful pang in her chest. He forced a cordial smile, “You don’t have to do those. Soonyoung was just being silly, he’s always like this. Making up stupid games like that.”

Oh. She slowly lowered the paper, before letting it drop from her grasp. The paper weighed as much as a feather, yet it felt like a deafening echo to her when it hit the concrete. It was a little stupid, letting a paper dictate who she could and couldn’t kiss. But no, she wasn’t going to walk away like this. She wasn’t going to let this fester in an awkward goodbye and a run of shame back to her apartment. She didn’t go all this way for nothing, and she would put up a good try if she had to. She wanted Hansol tonight.

She bit her lip, pouting slightly as she leaned forward. “Does that mean, you don’t want to kiss me?” she lamented, batting her lashes.

His eyes widened comically, and he held up his hands, waving them around like octopus tentacles. “No, no! Why would you even think—of course I want to kiss you—I mean, oh shit.” he smacked his forehead, collapsing against the metal. “The room is spinning and the only thing I can focus on is how beautiful and kissable you look in that dress.” he sincerely looked distressed, willing his brain to stay concentrated.

And she got on her tiptoes, finally close enough to grasp the collar of his Henley.

“Then kiss me, baby boy.” she murmured, closing the gap between them.

He tasted like vanilla and soju, and she was practically melting. Never before had a drunken kiss tasted so satisfying before Hansol. His addictive lips were wind chapped and so definitively him, low maintenance and she loved every bit of it. Before she knew it she was spinning again, this time because Hansol was lucid enough to lift her on top of the washing machine, giving himself better access. His large hands gripped at the curve of her butt, giving a hard squeeze before he settled her down on the cool metal. 

A combination of hard and soft sighs were exchanged between them as they deepened the kiss, coupled with the muffled music that synced in time with their pumping hearts.

Hansol’s hands were going everywhere and nowhere. He couldn’t decide on his method of multitasking, the softness of her hair, or the suppleness of her breasts, or the bare expanse of her thighs. He made sure to keep his lips occupied however, trailing a airily soft trail down her neck and to her collarbone.

She on the other hand, knew exactly what she wanted. Threading her fingers in his styled locks (he looked unbelievably sexy with his hair pushed back) she ran her lips over his sharp jawline, making sure not to miss a single centimeter. She parted her legs, causing her dress to run eagerly up her hips, crumpled and disheveled. Blunt fingernails dug into her thighs, and she sighed, a petty whine escaping her lips as she tugged on the hem of his t-shirt, willing for it to come off. Instead, Hansol took it as initiative to move closer, hips aligning with hers like a magnetic bolt streamlining to her core.

This elicited a groan from her, and he managed to chuckle as he felt her ankles hook securely around his waist. “You’re going too fast, baby.” he murmured playfully with eyes half-lidded in pleasure, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Sorry.” she hushed, “It’s just that—oh god.”

The washing machine whirred to life, vibrating her body in a way that had her senses on hyper-drive. How convenient that in his drunken escapades, his conclusion was to do laundry. She shuddered, diving her head in the crook of his neck as she whimpered in pleasure, biting the dip between his neck and shoulders to suppress her exasperated cries.

“Just what, sweetheart?” he insisted with a tight moan, grounding his hips to hers in a painstakingly slow rhythm. The rough denim nipped harshly at the soft cotton of her panties, doing absolutely nothing to defend herself as she felt his long hardness press against her clothed core.

“It’s just th-that, that.” she sighed in frustration, her hands trembling over his pecs, and then making a definitive pathway to the buckle in his jeans. “Hansol, please.” she panted, ears ringing as she felt the machine rumble faster. Her hands palmed the thick tent in his jeans, rubbing messy circles and stars as she rested her head against his shoulder, simultaneously both tired and revitalized.  

“Say—nngh— something.” he said breathily, licking a trail to her cleavage while  simultaneously rubbing circles under her dress. This new, aggressive side of Hansol was starting to grow on her, making her into a writhing mess between his arms.

“I don’t want to say anything!” she huffed in frustration, gripping his shoulders as she moved against him, already forcing one hand to unzip the back of her dress so it would fall over her shoulders. She rolled her hips needily, mewling in satisfaction at how absolutely full he felt against her thin panties, burning for a reprieve. Words tumbled from her lips like wildfire, “The only thing I want to do is rip off your fucking jeans and moan your name a million times as you hold me and take me and Jesus I’m shaking and absolutely soaking for you andohohmy—”

“Fuck.” Hansol rasped, his lips a glistening cherry red, “I knew you had way with words.” and he pressed her hips deeper into the washing machine, forcing her to face sweet, sweet torture as the machine vibrated and rocked her panties damp, her honeyed arousal dampening against the cool metal. He nipped her bra strap off with his teeth, dipping a finger between her folds. She cried out, digging her nails into his back as the pulsation made her tortuously numb with white hot pleasure.

“Oh, oh please, b-bed. N-now.” she managed to choke out, giving up on figuring out the goddamn zipper in his trousers.

Moving her hands away, he lifted her, walking through clothes both clean and soiled until they went into a narrow hallway. He kicked open a door that led into a room even smaller than the laundry room. It was hazy and delightfully hot, both parties not even bothering to shut the door behind them.

Everything was just so foggy, their state of arousal combined with the glow of liquid ambrosia, anything was bound to happen.

Worst. Hangover. Ever.

She was definitely thrashed around with a train. Or a spaceship that missed the sky and hit her. Or something. Because she wasn’t getting out of bed anytime soon. The tiny window atop the concrete walls had ample power, letting golden rays stream into the tiny room, flashing to her face. She groaned, throwing a pillow over her eyes, praying for sleep to take the pain away.

Melting in the sheets, she decided that she needed to sleep naked more often, it was incredibly comfortable.

Wait.

She threw the pillow to some corner of the room, causing a capless water bottle to knock over the desk and spill over the rug. But she had no concern to the mess, and snapped her head to her bed partner, who was taking his sweet time to wake up.

Frozen, she could only clutch the white sheets closer to her chest as Hansol resumed his graceful awakening. It was a small twin bed, so if she shifted just a centimeter, her legs would tangle between his. Pomade caused his bedhead to be even crazier, silky tufts of ebony black hair going in every direction imaginable. His eyelashes fluttered like deep dark fans, before they finally opened to reveal his pretty golden eyes. He absorbed her stricken gaze.

“G’mornin’.” he finally uttered with a casual stretch, throwing the sheets off him and getting up. His side had another blanket thrown to the doorway, freshly stained with last night’s activities. He walked away from the bed sluggishly.

From there she noted that Hansol Vernon Chwe was very tall, and just like her, very naked.

Oh my god ohmygodohhhhmy—

All the things she wanted to say blanked from her mind, as he bent down to put on his plaid Christmas green boxers (shit, his thighs were a work of god). His back was turned to her, and she could only stare at his back muscles flexing and unflexing as he grabbed a tin of aspirin from the drawer and pulled out a new water bottle from the case, ignoring the spilled water that was quickly ruining his shag carpet. Before Hansol went back to the bed, he murmured a soft “oh yeah” to himself and reached for something on the drawer.

She blushed, watching him grab her thin periwinkle panties from his magenta lava lamp. How on earth did they get all the way up there, she’ll never know.

He handed her two aspirin and opened the bottle for her, bending down so his knees were on the floor, eyes aligned to hers. She accepted the kind gesture, hands trembling slightly as she took slow sips. “Thank you.” she said softly, breaking eye contact in favor of focusing on not throwing up on his sheets.

“Of course.” he replied genuinely, His face was red, too. He rubbed his neck sheepishly, putting her panties on her covered lap. “I’ll wait outside if you want to go change, or something.” he muttered, already turning to leave.

“Wait,” she said slowly, feeling her headache already worsening by the sudden impact of thought. “You’re kicking yourself out of your own room?”

“Well, yeah?” he twiddled with his fingers, looking down. “In case you regretted what we did last night.”

In fact, she wasn't even entirely sure what happened last night. The beginning was crystal clear, Jeonghan barging into her place with a way to blow off steam and infinite support. Her head to throbbed painfully as she attempted to recollect it the end of their night. While last night was clouded and tinted with the heat of the night, she was absolutely convinced that they did more than she anticipated they would do. She could conclude that much, due to the sinfully pleasant soreness that thrummed between her thighs. While she couldn’t remember all of it, she had a feeling she couldn’t look at doing laundry the same way ever again.

“Even if things are still hazy right now,” her voice was very, very small. Vulnerable, and his bedroom seemed even more constrictive than before. “I don’t regret anything that we did, because it was with you.”

His eyes widened at her words, her voice filled with an undertone of confidence and finality that had him reeling. His posture was frozen straight, but his copper eyes were alive, dancing staccato in tandem to the bleeding sunlight, wracking with a litany of emotions. “I don’t normally do this, y’know.” he finally said.

“Is that supposed to make me feel special?”

“Well, I wish it would. Because you’re special to me.”

Her hands curled under the sheets, fisting a full patch of snow white cotton. Special, to Hansol? Her throat was sandpaper dry, even though she just had water. She sat up straighter, letting the sheet slip like the way molasses would drip to the ground. She shivered at the rush of cool air. Hansol’s eyes lingered briefly on her bare shoulders, and now sober, she felt more than just naked to his gaze, arrested to his bed. He got up and picked out a champagne pink sweater from his computer chair. Rolling up the neck, he smelled the collar in approval before deciding it was clean enough to put on her.

“I would’ve wanted to take you out on a date,” he said tenderly, putting one arm sleeve through the other after getting her head through as carefully as possible, as if she were fine china. “And talk about stupid alien conspiracies and bad television, maybe cry over good books and read each other poetry, and call you dorky nicknames like Pumpkin and Honeybear. And hopefully you would’ve liked that too.” He continued wistfully as he cared for her, pulling gently to get her hair out of the sweatshirt. “And then I’d ask you out—or you can ask me out I don’t really care, and after a good amount of time we’d have amazing sex and uh, well—we already cut to the amazing sex part.”

Maybe she was still drunk, because his confession was making her even more emotional than normal. His cashmere sweater smelled of sandalwood and warm vanilla, and she brought a sweater paw up to rub her eyes, hopefully pulling away any potential tears that were worming its way. “Hansol,” she said delicately, pulling him back on his bed, wrapping her sweater-covered arms around his neck. “I think I would’ve wanted all of those things, too. And if you want, we could still do them.”

She felt his muscles relax in her grip, and she felt his gangly arms wound its way back onto her waist, running his nose along her curtain of hair and to her neck. “Oh, thank god.” he exhaled in relief, his fingers curling protectively in the dip of her waist, his voice low and rumbly in her ear. She felt his hot breath dance on her neck, and she closed her eyes, reveling in this moment of blissful acceptance. “I didn’t even know you were coming to the party.” he chuckled warmly, nuzzling his cheek on her shoulder.

They fell back, so that Hansol was lying on the bed again, and she could lean her head on his chest. He threw the sheets over them once more, enveloping them in comfortable warmth of each other’s body temperature, and the afterglow of the night before.

“Jeonghan picked me up at the last minute. Good thing he made me come.” she confessed, pressing a lazy kiss on his collarbone.

“Jeonghan is my new favorite hyung.” he grinned like a dork at the empty ceiling, blindly threading his fingers through hers. “He made me take his class, and introduced me to a wonderful girl along the way who’s hella smart and gorgeous.”

“Are you kidding?” she smacked his chest lightly, “You’re hella smart and gorgeous. And you’re silly, and funny and absolutely sweet.”

“D’awh, thanks Pumpkin.”

“Okay stop. I don’t like that one.”

“Alright, Chicken Nugget.”

“What’s with your strange fixation to food nicknames?” she teased. She leaned in, placing a quick kiss on the button of his nose. It felt good knowing she would be able to do silly things like this on the daily. 

“That’s because I just recently made a deduction,” he put a palm to her chest in reply, and pushed her back, hard. Enough to elicit a laugh from her, but not too hard as to make her fall off the bed. Her back hit the sheets as her giggles engulfed the room, covering her mouth as he hovered over her and switched positions, sticking out his tongue. “That you are absolutely delicious.”

She hummed, running a finger between his bare chest. Hansol was still shirtless, lucky her. “My memory is still a little fuzzy from last night. Care to remind me how delicious I tasted?” she taunted, her hands brushing on the waistband of his boxers.

He replied with a series of kisses, her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. And she felt amazing, her headache miraculously gone and in the comfort of this wonderful, wonderful person who wanted her as much as she wanted him. His one hand lingered on the curve of her butt, giving a long squeeze as his other hand trailed along the sweater he just put on her, lifting it to reveal the smooth expanse of her stomach. He made an animated comment, “Your tummy is cute!” before kissing the middle of it.

And then her stomach grumbled for the longest five seconds of her life.

Hansol laughed out loud, a beautiful, hearty sound. He didn’t remove his lips from her skin, feeling the vibration echo through her body. She felt a little less embarrassed when she could feel his smile against her stomach.

“Do you want to go eat first?” she asked sheepishly, pushing him up. Their night worked up a hearty appetite.

“You mean,” he raised a perfectly threaded eyebrow at the space between her thighs, open for his consumption.

“No, you butt. I mean real food!” she hopped off the bed, smirking at the fact that Hansol was watching every bit of her as she shimmied back into her underwear, still glued to the bed.

He shrugged, not seeming to mind, “Oh, that’s cool too. Muffins?”

“Hell yeah.”

“And then sex?”

“What? No!” she smacked him with the pillow she had thrown earlier, and he clutched his heart dramatically, falling heavily to the mattress as if he were impaled with a deadly shot. “I left my ice cream at my apartment. We’re going back there and we’re going to continue the night in I was supposed to do.”

“But my heart! You’ve wounded it!” he cried in fake agony, holding out a tortured hand to her.

“Because you mean nothing to me. Nothing.” She cried theatrically, unable to suppress her fit of giggles at his cheesiness, pulling him off the bed.

“No, you loooveeee me.” he cooed, trapping her in his embrace. He sat at the foot of the bed, and she immediately bounded onto his lap. Pressing her forehead to his, she let her eyes flutter shut, licking her lips as she basked in this moment. When she opened them, Hansol’s was already open, lashes of wispy caramel fluttering to her body which was cradled within his. When they finally faced each other, he placed a cotton soft kiss between her brows, letting his lips linger on her skin for a second too long.

And at that moment, it was just her and Hansol, which meant everything to the both of them.