#considering that CUBE didn't back her up at all

[colognedecigarette]

ugh. okay. i've ranted about this in my journal less than five minutes ago but apparently my thirst to fucking yell at the clouds won't be satiated until i've put it somewhere public.

look. i love Seo Soojin and think her removal from the group was as unfair as the next stan, but the way people talk about the conclusion of the case really drives me mad. i see a lot of "she was proven innocent by her lawyer" and a lot more of "it was a false accusation" but going by the last statement from her attorney that i read, i feel like there's a lot more going on than that.

first thing's first, i don't know how it is in different countries or different justice system, but as far as am aware "proving" anything isn't a lawyer's job. first and foremost their job is to represent their client; specifically in cases such as Soojin's, it's to represent their client through a legal dispute/investigation. if there's anything related to "proofs" to their job, then that would be to collect evidences and statements. but to determine whether someone is innocent or guilty isn't within their rights.

her lawyer can't "prove" her innocence. all they could do was to collect and present the evidences that may -- hopefully -- get her an innocent verdict, but that verdict wasn't theirs to make.

now with that said, again, going by the last statement released that i read last year, i'd say Soojin's lawyer did a pretty good job collecting those evidences that may point towards her innocence. from what i remember:

they had statement(s) from the school staff as witness claiming that there were no records of the bullying Soojin was accused of;

the only record of bullying related to Soojin that they had instead pointed at her as the victim, not the bully; and

when questioned about it, the accuser/her team failed to present any evidence to support their claim of Soojin bullying her that wasn't simply hearsay (i.e. she said/she said situation)

also included in the statement though more like a quote, the accuser had also apparently admitted that "she wasn't sure (anymore)" whether Soojin really was part of the group that she'd claimed to have bullied her or not.

so all of these do point towards the conclusion that Soojin didn't do what the accuser said she did. at the very least, it opened the door for further investigation of the claim and, therefore, the case. at this point, based on the statement, Soojin's team had successfully submitted their own evidence to counter the accuser's claim to the police, while the accuser's team had not.

the proper course of action after this was supposed to be for the police to: 1) investigate the evidence submitted by Soojin/her team to determine its truth and 2) press the accuser/her team to finally submit their evidence to backup their claim as well as counter Soojin's. in my country, to my knowledge at least, if the accuser fails to fulfil point no.2 while point no.1 leads to a definitive yes, then the case would be dropped as false allegations and that opens the door for a counter-suit under defamation.

but, quoted in the statement, a member of the force instead claimed that there was not enough leads/evidence to investigate the case further. it was treated as though both parties failed to submit evidence to support their positions and claims, when as stated: Soojin did not fail, the accuser did.

it's hard not to look at all of this with at least a little bit of a side-eye. the case didn't seem like it was dropped because there was simply not enough going ons to continue pursuing it, it instead seemed like it was dropped because thus far at that point, Soojin may come out on top.

the case was not dropped because she was legally proven to be innocent, but because the evidence gathered favoured towards her innocence and the cops were not interested in pursuing that.

the more that i think about the inconclusive conclusion of the case, the more i can only think of one word. it's what people in my country call kongkalikong; the whole tail end of this case just stinks of corruption. this isn't "just" a false allegation. it feels far more insidious than that.

so ... no, Soojin's lawyers didn't "prove" that she was innocent, they just gathered and presented the evidence that could have cleared her of the accusations had the justice system worked properly. and, no, it wasn't a "false allegation" legally because the people who were supposed to investigate and determine that were not interested in doing their job.

in conclusion: the whole case is mad fucked. its ""conclusion"" even more so. if you're going to talk about it, don't just talk about the lawyers and the accuser. there's a whole third, maybe even fourth party, that you're forgetting to include.

[sysig]

I thought I was done being feral about Tamagotchis but no, it was just a lull

[luveline]

I love your KBD universe it is soo adorable!! All the kids are written so cutely! I relate to Avery so much! I was thinking about what if mom is super pregnant and she always wants to be near Steve, like she almost doesn’t even want him out her line of sight. Always wanting to touch him and get kisses from him. Love your blog!!

kisses before dinner ♡ you're pregnant and steve is lovely

There is a silver lining to being eight months pregnant (that isn't the baby at the end) —your husband. 

Steve gets soft. When the physical evidence of your pregnancy becomes unignorable, and then glaringly obvious, he treats you with exceptional care, love and tenderness. You can't get enough of it or him. 

And you're like a lost puppy when he's not near. “Steve,” you say, feeling rather morose about the whole thing, “where are you?” 

“In the kitchen! Do you want something?” 

No, you think, just you. “What are you doing?” 

“Babe, I'm making you and Ave your drinks!” A telltale plink of ice cubes knocking against glass follows. “Don't get up, okay?” 

You squeeze Avery's hand where it's held in yours. “Does he think I'll explode?” 

She giggles, her almond eyes lit with her laughter. “Maybe, mom.” 

“Do you think I'll explode?” 

“No way. You didn't explode before.” 

“‘Xactly.” You'd offer to carry her, or simply scoop her up without asking, but being so pregnant actually does feel like you're going to explode sometimes and you figure it's a bad idea. “Let's go see what he's doing.” 

You and Avery pick over Dove's tea party, abandoned sadly in the middle of the living room, and make your way into the kitchen, which is less hecticly messy but a tad grimy after a long week. Grease clings to the stove top and there's a cherry red stain down the front of the refrigerator. Death of a stolen popsicle. 

Steve sighs when he sees you, too much love around his eyes for any believability when he chides, “You can't sit down. It's impossible.” 

You push yourself back against the counter next to his hip. Avery does the same immediately, giving him a similar look, you're sure. 

He tries to hide his smile with a sip of Avery's too full drink. “Here,” he says when it's at a safer level, “apple juice for you. And ice, princess.” 

“Thank you,” she says, eyes wide as her open palms. She takes it and drinks at it greedily, the sweet taste of concentrated sugar enough to steal her attention. She walks out of the kitchen calling for Beth. “Come have some juice!” 

“That's adorable,” Steve says. 

“You tend to make them that way.” 

He throws an arm against his forehead, slouching beside you, the other wrapping behind your back. “I know. It's exhausting.” 

You spy your youngest under the kitchen table. The girls are fascinated with alcoves and small spaces. If they can fit into a nook, they will, and if they can't, they'll squeeze in anyhow. She breathes through her mouth over a pad of paper with a shard of a crayon in hand, drawing rather intricate things, considering her age. 

“Are those flowers?” you whisper. 

“Think so…” Steve lifts his head high to kiss the top of yours, his arm moving up to your shoulders. He rubs at them like he's trying to relieve a pressure you haven't announced. “You really need to stop getting up all the time. You're at risk–” 

“No, the doctor said if I'm not careful I'd put myself at risk.”

“And what are you doing?” he asks, voice like velvet, smooth and soft as he looks behind your ear. He must see something, petting away a flyaway or a loose strand or something, his touch as tender as his voice. 

You tilt your head away from him. After as long in love with one another as you have been, he knows you're asking for something rather than moving away, and he leans in again to kiss your cheek, rubbing behind your ear all the while. 

“Let's go sit down,” he suggests. 

“In a second.” 

You're terrible lately but it's all his fault. You crave his affection both big and small, all the time, and in every place. You'll be off work any day now and you're sure you'll spend that time soaking him in while he runs ragged trying to get things ready. You've done it before. Steve in the grocery store looking for a hundred different things while you draw stars into the backs of his hand, or trying to fix the baby gate onto the wall while you sit on the stairs making googly eyes at him. 

“My boy,” you say stupidly, wrapping your arms around his neck. Regrettably, he can't continue to dote on you like that, but it prompts him to hug you as close as he can manage. “I love you.” You lay your cheek on his shoulder. “You smell really nice.” 

“I love you too.” Pine, today. Fresh. “I see what's happening.” 

“What's happening?” 

You think he's going to put you down. The baby hormones are making you clingy, he might say, but he doesn't. “You've realised how hot I am. You're late, but I'll forgive you. You know, ‘cos of your predicament.” 

“Thank you,” you say, kissing his neck gently. 

You leave a series of butterfly kisses down the column of his neck before squishing yourself into the curve of it, resting too much weight on him. He takes it all without complaint, hugging you tighter, the distension of your bump a beach ball between you that makes you unfortunately shorter, bending as you are. 

His breath is a pleased sound in your ear, but he doesn't say anything. You hug until you have a strange pain in your neck; he encourages you away from him like he can sense it. 

“You okay?” he asks, thumb under your eye, a millionth sweet touch to add to the mountain. 

“I'm great.” 

“Yeah?” He holds you in place and kisses you. “Love you,” he says, his bottom lip jutting against yours. He kisses you again, and then he pulls away completely, a hand between you both the only tether. “Time to sit down. I'm gonna take your blood pressure.” 

There's no need. If anything, the way he's looking at you might give an inaccurate reading, but you think of the fawning and fretting and the rough of his fingertips digging into the top of your arm and smile, giddy. “‘Kay.” 

“Come on, Dovey, let's go be mommy's doctor,” he calls to Dove. 

In a rather uncharacteristic episode of actually listening, she abandons her crayons and takes his offered hand. He shoots you a quick smirk, as if to say, Yeah, I did that. It's stupid and it makes you laugh, because you couldn't love him much more than this. 

[jishyucks]

Desk Deliveries — ljn

‣ pairing: lee jeno x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied f2l/coworkers-to-lovers, secret admirer au, office!au

‣ wc: 5.6k

‣ summary: When gifts start appearing on your work desk on December 1st, you have no choice but to hunt down the man who’s been planting them. And with only 7 men on the floor, this shouldn’t be difficult… Right?

‣ warnings: nothing really?, cliche-ish ending, a lot of dialogue (I gotta get this story goingggg)

‣ an: jeno’s wooooo, honestly easier to write than I thought but it’s wayyyy longer than I wanted it to be (I keep underestimating? myself), I just hope it’s up to my own standards lmaooo, but hopefully u guys enjoy!

Series Masterlist

DECEMBER 1

Desk Delivery!

Starting today, consider your desk a treasure trove of surprises.

‘Tis the season of giving, after all, and your radiant presence in the office deserves to be celebrated.

Each gift is carefully chosen, a small reflection of the little things I love about you. I hope they bring a smile to your face and add a sprinkle of magic to your December days.

Stay curious, 

Your Secret Admirer (or would Secret Santa fit the season?)

You almost laugh out loud, blinking at the note sitting on your desk. This must be a joke, right? 

“What is that?” Karina digs her chin into your shoulder, reading the note from behind you.

“Some joke,” you reply, letting her pluck the card from your fingertips. 

She pouts, “But it’s cute!”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” you counter, taking the card back.

“I just don’t believe it’s real.”

DECEMBER 3

Today, you arrive at the office greeted with a small, neatly wrapped cube on your desk and you’re beginning to think that the message you were given on the 1st wasn’t a joke and that, whoever it was, was being serious.

You glance around the office to see if any of your coworkers were present, but you seemed to be the first one there. Your brows furrow, carefully sliding the box toward you before ripping the wrapping paper. 

You use your office scissors to slice the tape open, and then once you are sure you can open the box to see what was in it, you take a deep breath in. You push the box away from you so it’s at arm’s length, afraid that something was going to pop out when you lift the flaps open. Counting to three in your head, you ready your fingers to lift the covers after the third count.

Fully expecting there to be fake snakes of some sort, you were met with nothing (thankfully). You pull the box back and peek in to find a mug and a card. Your brows furrow, pulling the card out first. 

I know how much you love that mug of yours, Y/N…

But it’s time to retire that broken one.

Got you a new one. Hope you like it! 

Your Secret Admirer 

You can’t help but giggle at the tone of the writer, placing the card down before going for the mug. You’ve been teased maybe once or twice for using a mug with no handle, mostly because you’ve been complaining about how the edges of the glass edges left behind by the absent handles had been poking at your palm.

Carefully, you fish the cup out of the box, making sure you won’t drop and shatter the present before you can even use it, and you use your other hand to pull the box off. And when you finally get a good look at the mug, you laugh out loud, bringing it up to eye level to get a good look at it. 

It was the exact same mug you already have been using, the only difference was that this one actually had a handle.

You were so caught up in your present that you didn't notice Karina approaching you, “Morning, smiley face.”

“Huh?” you blink at her, confused.

“I would take a picture of you right now, but I’m too lazy,” she huffs, “But you’re smiling like a child on Christmas Day.” Karina blatantly points at your face, “Who’s got you smiling like that?”

You shrug but gesture to the card and the mug, “I don’t think that first one was a joke…”

DECEMBER 4

“Hey! Hey, Y/N!” 

You hear someone call your name, but you don’t actually hear it. It was sort of like background noise to your thoughts, entering one ear and leaving the other. 

“Y/N! Hey!” 

Then, you feel something rough hit the side of your face and you realize that Karina was peeking over the wall of her cubicle and into yours.

“What the fuck do you want!” you whisper. You pick up the balled-up scrap paper she had thrown before throwing it back to her, “I’m trying to work!” 

She dodges the ball with ease, head briefly disappearing then reappearing, “Do you have any candidates for who your secret admirer could be?” 

Karina was speaking a little bit too loud for your liking, so you gestured for her to come closer. She doesn’t hesitate to leave her workspace to enter yours, sitting down on an empty spot on your desk, “So? Candidates?”

You shake your head, “Barely. I was only able to pick out that the writing is a guy’s writing because the girls have neat writing… Other than that, I have nothing.” 

The two letters sitting on your desk were your only explicit clues. Then, you had the thing with the mug, but everyone knew of your broken mug. So really, it was just the handwriting that you had as insight. 

“Okay, so it’s a guy…” Karina hums. She stretches her neck to glance around the office, “And there’s only like… seven? It wouldn’t be difficult to eliminate some of them.” She picks up your two cards to examine the cards. You can see her eyes move back and forth between the letters, pressing her lips into a thin line. “It’s not Renjun.” 

“Huh? How do you know that?” 

“He handwrites,” Karina states, “Like straight-up longhand writing. So it’s not him.” 

“How do you know he’s not just changing up his writing so it’s not obvious?” you narrow your eyes. 

Karina laughs, “Okay, you have a point, but let’s just say that he’s out temporarily, to make it easier on us. In the case that everyone else is out, then it’s Renjun.” 

You don’t notice the way your face scrunches up, your facial features pushing in toward your nose. 

“Hey, what’s with the face?” Karina’s head tilts to the side. It takes a beat and a half before she realizes, “Wait, you don’t want it to be Renjun, do you?” 

You don’t answer, mostly because you didn’t want to outright say that you didn’t want Renjun to be your admirer—no offense to him. Renjun was a great guy, but he wasn’t someone who you saw yourself being with. And if you were to actually build a relationship with this person, you didn’t want it to be Renjun. 

An all-knowing smirk appears on Karina’s face, “Then who do you want it to be?” 

You want to throw a punch at Karina’s knee, but you remember you are still in the workplace and you need to keep it (at least a little bit) professional. “Fuck you, you already know the answer to that.” 

Jeno, Karina thinks.

“Of course you want it to be him,” Karina puts the cards back down, “I should have known. You’re down bad for that man.” 

Karina wasn’t wrong. You and Jeno go way back to your internship days, and your (hopeless) crush on him has been there since then. 

“Down bad for who?” 

From seemingly out of nowhere, Chenle appears at the corner of your cubicle, leaning against it as he takes a sip of his coffee. And of course, wherever Chenle was, Jisung followed, standing right next to the former. 

“Uh, that-that one actor!” you lie in a panic, “From that one show!”

“You suck at lying,” Chenle snorts, “You could have at least named someone. It could have been Nam Joohyuk for all I care.” 

“It’s not you guys if that’s what you’re thinking,” Karina snickers, “Sorry, boys.” 

Jisung and Chenle burst out laughing, almost comically in sync. They even threw in a high-five, though it was out of habit. “No offense, Y/N, but I don’t see you in that light.” Chenle is practically in tears. 

“No offense, Chenle, but I don’t either,” you reply, “Now can you guys please leave my space or I’m reporting you guys to Taeyong.” And that sends them away because it wasn’t the first time they’ve been reported.

“Okay so we can scratch those two off the list,” Karina concludes. 

And you nod. 

So far, so good. This should be easy.

DECEMBER 8

Okay, it wasn’t as easy as you thought. 

All your interactions with the other guys were normal. None of them seemed suspicious enough for you to star, nor did any of them do anything that ruled themselves off your list, and you had to admit, it was frustrating. 

Of all the boys, the most suspicious was Jaemin, who snickered every time he passed your desk. But when you mentioned this to Karina, Karina pointed out that Jaemin was like that in general, always up to his own shenanigans like Donghyuck was. 

“That or he knows something,” Karina thinks, “We should ask him.” 

It was nearing the end of the day and you and Karina were sitting at one of the open tables by the floor’s wall of windows, mugs in hand while you carefully eyed the boys of the department. 

Karina’s about to walk up to Jaemin when you stop her, pinching her blouse to keep her from leaving, “I don’t think Jaemin’s stupid enough to spill anything if we ask. We have to make it subtle.” 

“Subtle, how?” 

You shrug, “Just subtle.”

“Subtle, how?” Karina repeats. 

You want to bonk her in the head, “I guess pretend like you don’t really care, maybe say you think it’s Renjun or something and see what he says.”

Let’s say Jaemin really did know who your admirer was. If Karina were to think it was someone else, she could note the way Jaemin would react to her guesses and you both can go from there. 

You shoo her away and let her do her thing, staying back to pretend you were watching cars drive past down below. 

In 8 days, the only clues you were able to gather included the fact that he was a boy, he worked on this floor (the mug thing), he liked to end his J’s in loop de loops, and there was always some type of water or coffee stain on the cards. 

The last clue was something you and Karina had just recently discovered, simply because the first few cards were wrinkled in the slightest with water, while the most recent one, today's, had been stained with a drop of coffee. 

You’re not sure if these were purposeful or accidental, but nonetheless, you and Karina took any details as clues, hoping that it would lead to a conclusion.

“You haven’t blinked for a while.” 

“Shit, I didn’t hear you come,” you greet Jeno with an awkward smile, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, “I was just deep in thought.” 

Jeno’s eyes disappear when he smiles and your stomach does that thing it does when he does so. It’s so stupid how you’re feeling like a giddy high schooler around this man, but you’ll defend yourself any day and blame him for everything. 

“Is it about your secret admirer?” Jeno questions. He’s facing the window and you’re facing him. You can see him peeking at you through the corner of his eye and he’s smiling teasingly.

Your eyes widen, “Wait, how do you know about that?” You haven’t told anyone but Karina, Chenle, and Jisung, the last two only earning the information for being the most persistent duo on the planet. 

“Word gets around,” he shrugs, “And I pass your desk to and from the elevator.” 

You’re guessing the two younger boys had let it slip out but you disregard them for now, “Oh… right…”

“So, what about him?” Jeno questions. 

“Just… I don’t know who it is….” 

Jeno turns to you and you’re taken aback by how tired he looks. Sure, everyone in this damn office repped the good ‘ol panda eyes, but Jeno’s hair was a bit dishevelled, eyes half closed from fatigue. You choose not to point it out. 

Jeno’s words register in your head and your brows furrow, “Wait… how do you know they’re a he? I didn’t say anything about him unless…” You don’t quite notice the way Jeno freezes up only because he wasn’t moving much beforehand. “Unless you know who he is!”

Jeno shakes his head, “Jisung told me!”

“I didn’t tell Jisung anything.” “You probably told Karina who told Chenle who told Jisung!” At this point, Jeno’s heart is beating at an erratically fast pace and he’s about to panic until Karina returns. She’s pouting, a tinge of disappointment evident on her face and Jeno takes this as his chance to escape.

“What did Jaemin say?” Your attention is easily pulled away from your friend, “Did he say anything?”

“No,” Karina grumbles, “I accidentally let it slip out that this was about your admirer and all he said was, 'Secret admirer, huh? Wouldn't you like to know.'” Karina mocks Jaemin’s voice, rolling her eyes. “But I guess that just proves that he knows something… it’ll just be harder to get it out of him.” 

“Jeno’s being suspicious now, too,” you nod your head to the boy. 

Sure it could be implied that your admirer was one of the guys, but the way the man had handled your questions was definitely something to take note of. 

DECEMBER 10

“Please tell me you’ll be leaving after you finish this?” Another one of your coworkers, Minjeong, was standing at the edge of your cubicle, leaning against the divider. You can tell she’s ready to leave, hands stuffed deep into her pockets, “Everyone’s left besides Mr. Jo.” 

Mr. Jo was the custodian.

“I will, I promise.” You don’t even look up from your screen, waving your hand in her direction as if it would make her scurry away, “I’m almost done. Have a good night, Jeongie!” 

She returns your farewell and leaves, knowing that you won’t budge until you finish your task. 

You genuinely were near completion. You just had a few more points in the report to finish before you reached your goal for tonight and you’ll go home. 

Your fingers are flying across your keyboard, fatigued eyes blinking at the words you were producing in hopes that they were coherent. Your brain had shut down an hour ago and now you were on autopilot.

Who cares if it’s coherent if I’m going to edit it anyway? You think. And now you were carelessly typing, making typos left and right. 

When you finally finish the draft, you grab your mug from your coaster to put in the office’s sink. Your eyes finally catch a break from staring at the screen for so long, practically feeling your ocular muscles relax. Closing your eyes, you blindly make your way down the pathway, which honestly was easy after the amount of times you’ve made your way down it.

But when your feet hit something that was obviously not as hard as a cubicle wall you freeze. 

Shit. 

Your eyes fly open and quickly look at what you have unintentionally kicked. 

“Jeno?” You blink your eyes a couple times to make sure you aren’t just seeing things.

Sprawled out on his desk was Jeno, fast asleep. There was a small pond of drool underneath his cheek, mouth hanging open. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Jeno.” You feel the need to whisper now, leaning over to shake his shoulder. “Jeno!” 

He begins to stir, “Huh? Wha?” 

“What are you still doing here?” you ask. 

One eye stuck closed, he glances around the empty office. The side that he had been lying on was flat as if he had been in that position for a while. Jeno yawns and stretches, his back popping a little as he sits up. 

"I was waiting for you to finish," he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

You glance at the clock on his computer screen, realizing it's much later than you thought. "Jeno, it's getting late. You didn’t need to wait for me."

He shrugs, a sleepy smile on his face. "I didn't want you to go home alone in the dark. Plus, I figured you might need some company." 

You hit him on the shoulder, “You dumbass!”

Jeno winces even though you didn’t even hit him too hard. “Ow!” 

“I didn’t even know you were here! Dumbass!” You throw another thwack at his shoulder blade, “You’re lucky I tripped over your foot!” Jeno ignores you and starts getting up, pulling out his packed bag underneath his desk, “You should’ve told me you were gonna wait for me.”

“Yeah, but then you would’ve pushed me onto the elevator so that I could leave,” Jeno replies. "Ready to head home?"

Although you and Jeno don’t live anywhere near each other, your place was on the way to his. Usually, you’d walk home and go sightseeing as you walked past the small shops on the way, but because the weather could freeze your arteries shut, you’re forced to transit home. 

"Sure, let's go." You pack up your things quickly, and the two of you head towards the elevator.

As you wait for the elevator doors to open, you glance at Jeno. His eyes are still a bit heavy with sleep, but there's a warmth in them that makes your heart flutter. When he notices you looking, he tightens his lips to give you a tired grin that reaches his eyes. The office is quiet now, only the hum of the elevator breaking the silence.

Once inside, Jeno presses the button for the ground floor, and the elevator starts its descent. The dim lighting casts a soft glow on both of you, and you can't help but appreciate the peaceful moment.

"Long day, huh?" Jeno breaks the silence, his tone sympathetic. “Your secret admirer mystery still bothering you?"

You chuckle and nod, "Yes. But it just makes me more determined to figure it out."

"Any progress?" Jeno raises an eyebrow, curious.

You shake your head, "Not really. It's driving me crazy." 

"Maybe it's someone you least expect," Jeno suggests with a playful smile.

"Maybe," you reply, unsure. The elevator doors open, and you both step out and into the nearly empty office lobby. Then you think out loud, eyes narrowing as you look at Jeno through your lashes, “Maybe it’s you.” 

The cold wind hits you as you exit the building, making you shiver. You pull your coat tighter around you, and Jeno does the same. 

“Why? Do you want it to be me?” Jeno smirks playfully. 

“I don’t know,” you lie, “I’m just asking because there’s a possibility it’s you. Besides Chenle and Jisung, you’re the only one willingly asking about him.” That really couldn’t even mean anything, but it’s suspicious. You’re starting to think this was a joke set up by all the guys, and you’re the target.

“Nope, it’s not me,” Jeno stares ahead of you both, and you miss the way he swallows his spit when he says it, “And I don’t know who it is either. That’s why I’m asking.”

You look at him to detect if Jeno was lying—maybe a nose twitch, multiple blinks, or a dishonest glance to the side—nothing. 

You feel your heart skip a beat, and not in the way you liked. Because, sure, you didn’t care about who this person was, but for the past week and a half, you’ve been raising your hopes that it was Jeno who had been leaving these presents for you. 

You realize that that was a mistake. 

A weak laugh shoots out your mouth, almost sounding like a huff and you force a smile on your face, “Well… that’s a relief.”

DECEMBER 15

Losing a bit of interest in your admirer just because it wasn’t the person you wanted it to be wasn’t fair to your actual admirer. Especially when they were still putting the effort into dropping off those presents and writing those letters.

The day after, you had told Karina that Jeno made it clear that your admirer wasn’t him and she refused to believe it, delusion taking over for your sake. She said something along the lines of ‘can’t say it’s not Jeno until there’s solid proof’. 

This morning you decided to switch up your strategy and arrive at work early. For the past 2 weeks, these little deliveries had appeared on your desk either after you left or before you arrived, and since you had kept track of who left the office yesterday evening, you were sure that he was going to be coming in early this morning to leave his present. 

You greet the security guard in the lobby, leaving your mouth more as a yawn than an actual sentence before you hop onto the elevator and cross your fingers for luck. 

The office is quiet and dimly lit as you enter, the only sound being the gears of the elevators turning as the doors slide open. Once you step out, you’re quick to scan the room before ultimately settling your gaze on your desk. 

The universe couldn’t have timed this any better.

Standing at your desk, you see a figure, gently placing a wrapped box on your desk. You hold back a gasp, clamping your mouth shut with your palm, not wanting to bring attention to yourself. The man appeared oblivious to the elevator letting someone off, his back still turned to you.

You catch the sound of his satisfied hum, and just before he pivots, you quickly move to a concealed hallway, keeping yourself out of sight. A lingering fear holds you back from confronting whoever this person is, but you so badly want to know who it is. You figured it would make the confronting part easier. 

Footsteps grow closer before they stop, and you can easily guess he’s standing in front of the elevators. With curiosity getting the best of you, you risk being seen and lean your head around the corner, just enough so that one of your eyes can see who the boy was. 

Another gasp attempts to leave your mouth when you finally recognize who it was. 

Jaemin?

The elevator arrives at your floor before you can even process that it was truly him you just saw, almost as if you’ve seen his ghost and he was gone before you knew it. 

So your secret admirer was Na Jaemin? 

In a way it made sense. You and Karina had ruled him as one of the more suspicious ones. He and Jeno were close, so Jeno being curious about your progress added up. Now you have solid proof that Jaemin actually was your secret admirer.

How were you going to let him down easily?

DECEMBER 19

Despite having the weekend and Karina's assistance to strategize how to break the news to Jaemin, you found yourself at work on Monday without a clear plan. Today, you mentally braced yourself for another gift, feeling a pang of guilt as you realized your friend and coworker had been investing so much effort, only for his feelings to not be returned.

Today’s box was slim and rectangular, wrapped in the paper you’ve grown familiar with. At first glance, it looked like a wine box, but you quickly deemed it too short to be a wine bottle. 

With a bit of hesitation, you carefully pick at the paper, ripping it open before you slice the tape that was keeping the box closed. Then you pry the box open, flipping the flaps over so that you can see the item from a bird’s eye view.

Huh?

You pull it out—an umbrella in your favourite colour. On the handle, your initials are engraved into the plastic. The umbrella looked beautiful, but considering the other presents, this was… random. 

Your eyes catch sight of a card at the bottom of the box and you stick your arm in to fish it out. 

I bet you’re curious as to who I am, right?

I think I kept you waiting far too long for a hint.

A hint?

Your heart picks up its pace and your eyes scramble to keep reading.

Today’s gift? An umbrella.

Bought one for myself and one for you because we need to be prepared next time.

I don’t know about you, but I didn’t enjoy being drenched in rain at work. 

Your Secret Admirer

A hint.

Hell, it was more than a hint.

Your eyes grow wide as you reread the note over and over, your heartbeat fluttering. It flutters because you know exactly what your admirer was talking about. 

Back during the rainy season, the morning you were getting ready for work, you completely disregarded the weather forecast and left your house without an umbrella or an appropriate coat. And much to your stupidity, you told yourself that it wasn’t going to rain that hard when you heeded the darker clouds in the sky. 

You realized your mistakes on the walk to work when rain started pouring down from the sky, like someone dumping a bucket of rainwater all over you. You were sprinting, sight impaired by the rain pelting your face, flying past other individuals who had been smart enough to pack heavy-duty umbrellas with them. 

Luckily, you finally arrived at your building before you were wet to the bone. When you noticed the elevator was still open, you called out for it, fast-walking through the lobby just so you could catch it. 

“Thanks,” you had sighed out, huffing in relief. 

The man who had held the elevator open for you laughed and spoke up, “I take it you forgot an umbrella too?” 

You laugh at the memory, remembering being thankful that you weren’t the only dumbass who didn’t bring an umbrella—that you weren’t going to be the only one on the floor who would be showing up soaked and dripping wet.

Because Jeno was that other dumbass. 

Even with this realization, with this hard evidence that your admirer could actually be Jeno, you still recount your almost-encounter with Jaemin and the fact that Jeno had denied your accusations. 

You find yourself caught in a web of conflicting emotions. On one hand, the thoughtful gesture of the umbrella brings back memories of that rainy morning with Jeno. On the other hand, the recent revelation and Jeno's denial cast a shadow of doubt on the identity of your secret admirer.

As you stand there, staring at the umbrella, your brain cells are desperately trying to think up a good explanation for all of this. The evidence seems to point to Jeno, yet you can't ignore the possibility that this might be an elaborate misdirection. Or maybe Jaemin was the misdirection?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the familiar voice of Karina, who has just gotten off the elevator. She notices the umbrella in your hands and grins, "Mr. Admirer? An umbrella?"

You manage a half-smile, the weight of the situation pressing on you. "It’s a hint. There’s a memory tied to it.”

Karina arches an eyebrow, intrigued. "Memory?"

You decide to share the story of that rainy morning with Jeno, how both of you got caught in the downpour without umbrellas. As you recount the details, Karina listens attentively, connecting the dots between the past and the present. 

"So, you think Jeno might be your secret admirer because of this shared memory?" she asks, thoughtful. The way her expression brightens at the thought of your admirer actually being Jeno and not Jaemin—just like you wanted.

You shrug, uncertain. "It makes sense, right? But then there's the whole denial part. He flat-out said it's not him."

Karina leans against the reception desk, crossing her arms. "He probably just didn’t want you to find out like that. Maybe he's trying to surprise you later. Who knows?"

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and curiosity. "I just want to know. I’m this close to banging my head against the corner of my desk." 

Karina snorts and nudges you playfully. "Confront him again but this time, give him no choice but to confess."

You consider Karina's suggestion, realizing that confronting Jeno might be the only way to unravel this mystery. Gathering your resolve, you decide to have a direct conversation with him, determined to get to the bottom of your secret admirer's identity.

DECEMBER 20

Who would’ve thought that confronting your secret admirer would be nerve-wracking? Cause what if it really wasn’t Jeno and you were making a fool out of yourself?

It’s your break and you’re sitting at one of the lounge tables with Karina and Minjeong, playing with the edge of your instant ramen cup. 

You’re replaying how you want the situation to go down in your head. You want to go up to him, make small talk, he small talks back, you confront him, and he admits it—easier said than done. But your goal was to do it by the end of the day, mostly because you know that if you kept this going for any longer, you’d actually go crazy.

Minjeong and Karina are talking about something, you’re not quite sure what it was when Ningning joins in, “Did Giselle pass by?” 

Karina shakes her head, “Haven’t seen her.” 

Ningning pouts, “I was going to ask her someth—”

And again, you tune them out—not on purpose.

The voice in your head is screaming Jeno repeatedly and it’s driving you insane. You want it to stop, but the only way you can do so is by confronting him.

Then the door opens again and in comes Jeno and Jaemin, laughing about something Donghyuck and Mark related. Karina notices the way your eyes divert toward their direction and she tries to catch your attention, jerking her head in their direction. Eyes widening, you shake your head as if you were saying not now.

“Shit, I got coffee on my shirt,” you hear Jeno huff. 

From where you were sitting, you could see Jeno turning to show Jaemin the coffee stain on his white shirt, pouting. Jaemin laughs, “That’s what you get for using a broken bottle. Just buy a new one.” 

Jeno pouts, “You buy one for me, then.” 

At first, you don’t pay attention to their conversation, passing it off as the usual banter between the two, but then it clicks. Your mouth speaks before you can even process everything, “It’s you!” 

The room grows silent but, frankly, you don’t care because now you’re sure it was Jeno. 

Other than the umbrella and the memory, the only other hint other than handwriting were the water and coffee stains that the cards were always covered in (and you and Karina were still unsure whether that was on purpose or not). 

Jeno’s bottle was broken. 

You rise abruptly, the chair screeching against the floor. Rounding the tables, you navigate toward to get to Jeno, heart beating against your rib cage. Once he is within your reach, you snatch him by the wrist and drag him out of the lounge room and into the hallway. 

“Dumbass!” you smack his shoulder, “It was you! Liar!” You weren’t angry, in fact, you were laughing, disbelief etched on your face.

Jeno looks off to the side, “I… don’t know what you’re talking about…” He’s horribly holding a smile back, cheekbones growing prominent from his attempt. 

“Don’t play dumb,” you say, “The umbrella hint was enough for me to know it was you!” 

Jeno unleashes his smile, physically shrinking and lowering his head as his cheeks grow hot from your statement. “I didn’t think you’d remember it that easily…”

"You've been driving me insane, you know that?" You shake your head, still processing the revelation. "I even thought it was Jaemin for a bit. All this time, it was you!"

“Did you… want it to be Jaemin?” 

You shake your head, “Honestly, I was relieved it was you… no offense to Jaemin. Why didn’t you admit to it when I asked you?”

“Probably a similar reason for why you said ‘that’s a relief’ when I said it wasn’t me,” Jeno counters, slowly regaining his confidence. 

You chuckle, realizing the playful banter unfolding between you and Jeno. "Good point."

He grins, "Plus, watching you try to figure it out was entertaining." There’s a mischievous glint in Jeno’s eyes as he's holding back a smile.

You cross your arms, glaring up at him, "So you enjoyed torturing me?" 

Jeno panics slightly, shaking his head, "No! It’s not like I was torturing you! It was just something fun! I liked seeing your reactions!"

You playfully roll your eyes. "You're lucky I like you."

Jeno freezes, “Wait, you like me like me?” 

You look at Jeno as if he just said the dumbest shit that’s ever come out of someone’s mouth. “Lee Jeno, I literally told you I was relieved it was you and you think I don’t have feelings for you?” You want to smack him again.

“Yes?”

Smack.

“Ow!” Jeno rubs his arm and frowns. 

“Of course I like you!” You’re looking up at Jeno, “I was working my ass off trying to figure out who my admirer was because I had hopes that it was you!”

Jeno's eyes widen with surprise, and then a broad grin stretches across his face. "You... really?" he stammers, almost disbelieving, “So would… this be the right time to ask you on a date?” 

You stuck out your bottom lip and shrug, half-joking, “I mean… it’s the least you can do after putting me through all that.” 

“You’re right,” Jeno laughs. He takes a step closer, looking down at you with the world’s prettiest smile, “So will you?”

“Will I, what?” you tease, staring back up at him.

“Will you go out with me?”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @reignessance

an: the answer is yes 👀,,, Felix's is up next and it's gonna be cute

[tsukimefuku]

CHAPTER ONE: PUTATIVE SELF DEFENSE ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES

masterlist link | mdni!

❀ putative self-defense.

when a person believes they are in imminent danger and acts in what they believe would be self-defense, when, in reality, the threat does not exist or is not as severe as perceived. 

wc: 5.9K ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader

❀ summary.

after your roommate fails to replenish the coffee in your dorm room, you drag your insomniac ass towards the cafeteria before heading to your first criminal law class. unfortunately, things don't go as expected — it's so, so much worse than you could have anticipated. at least, your personal torturer is very good-looking, and has the most beautiful hooked nose you have ever seen.

❀ Tags and c/w.

non-curse au. college au. silly slow-burn rom-com between professor and college student (this is purely a work of fiction, okay guys?) reader is kind of a mess (like, literally). this is cliché with some twists. nobara is the best and worst roomie ever. nobamaki is a thing here. nobody likes cafeteria coffee. higuruma has a best friend, i'm so happy about that. second hand embarrassment. misunderstandings are talked through and resolved. higuruma is a little unhinged, and we love him for that.

thank you so much @redlikerozez for betaing this 🥺

Your morning was a clusterfuck.

Diving your face in ice cold water did absolutely nothing to wake you from your anxiety ridden all-nighter. The world felt like a half dazed hallucination by this point.

Your energy was running so low this morning that you wound up putting your jeans on top of your pajamas pants, throwing a coat over the rest of the mess, and twirling your hair into something that could barely be considered a bun, topping it all off with the ugliest scarf you had — a red polka-dot scarf.

It seemed to be a taunting from the Gods — this was, for some supernatural reason, the only scarf you ever found when you were running late, and you hated the thing, but feared that if you threw it away, some higher power would punish you, and you'd never find another scarf to wear.

You were also scared that if you tried taking a shower, you might end up sleeping under it.

"What are you doing?" your roommate asked, as you pulled your face from the bowl filled with water and ice cubes. "Jesus, you look like hell."

"Trying to crawl my way back to the world of the living. It's not working."

Nobara walked behind you and opened the mini-fridge, grabbing a single slice of cheese and rolling it up to eat it.

"Oh, a breakfast fit for the champions" you mocked, while patting your face with a tea towel.

She scoffed. "Get off my ass, I didn't have the time for groceries."

"Oh, you totally had the time, you just spent it all with your girlfriend in her room!"

Nobara grabbed a crumpled tissue that she found over the counter and threw it in your direction.

You dodged it because you weren’t sure what the fuck that tissue had been used for cleaning.

"Leave me the hell alone! I deserved it before classes started," she complained, pouting.

You laughed as you walked towards the coffee machine, to see if some liquid energy would be enough to pump you through the day.

"Aren't you supposed to be out there already? Weren't you going to head into criminal law today or whatever?" she asked.

And you were, actually.

"So, how is he?" you inquired, tapping around the coffee machine and behind it, looking for the coffee powder.

"Professor Higuruma, you mean?" Nobara got up and walked towards her bed, throwing herself over it like a rag doll. "I still haven't had class with him, but according to Maki, he's kinda weird."

"Your girlfriend's definition of weird for the male faculty members is too broad, Nobara. She said the same thing about at least four or five professors."

She shrugged. "According to gossip, professor Higuruma had to take some time off academia after his PhD because of a mental breakdown."

"Well, he is the guy that got two masters degrees simultaneously and one PhD right after. I guess that does things to a person" you mocked, opening the cabinet drawer. Where is the coffee?

"Oh, that's why he's the head of two chairs?!"

"Yup, Criminal Law and Criminal Procedure Law."

"Well, from what Maki has told me, he likes to quiz his students on the spot randomly," Nobara stated as she pulled her phone from her night stand and began texting.

After looking all around and not finding the coffee powder, you were very much annoyed. 

"Nobara, where is the coffee?"

"We don't have any," she answered nonchalantly, still with her eyes glued to her phone.

You whipped your head towards her so fast, you nearly hurt your neck.

"Nobara, I need coffee. This is not a drill! It's my first criminal law class!"

"Oh, future criminal defense attorney, you definitely need some coffee, no one in their good mind would be wearing whatever the hell that is," she noted, pointing at you. "Especially that ugly red thing around your neck. Why do you still have that?"

"Ugh, now I'll have to go into the cafeteria before class to drink their awful coffee, and it's entirely your fault. Wardrobe editing rights are officially revoked!"

You stepped towards the door grabbing your bag as you heard her ask, "Hhey, is that your pajamas top?"

"No!" you replied, pulling your coat over your hello kitty pajamas top, before going out.

***

I can't fucking believe this.

You got in line to buy an overpriced $2 coffee — overpriced because it basically tasted like dirty water flavored with the souls of the damned — as you looked at your watch nearly every twenty seconds or so.

This coffee was so bad you usually tried to cover it up with milk, syrup and whatever else they had at their clients' disposal, but the aftertaste was always — always — completely cursed.

While in line, you noticed the guy who stood in front of you, and got distracted from your hurry by his back, as silly as that might sound.

He was tall — not the tallest, but at least a head above you — and his black hair was neatly cut by the tail end where his neck met his black suit collar. His posture was a little crooked to the side, one shoulder hanging a little lower than the other, and it felt kind of… charming?

Realizing you were nearly burning a hole in the man's back with your eyes, you averted your gaze elsewhere.

This is pathetic. I'm pathetic.

You figured that you had to be really sleep-deprived — and, honestly, kinda lonely — to be simping over some random guy's back.

Not only that, but while waiting in line at the campus cafeteria, the less sexy place to ever exist.

Class. I need coffee. I need to get to class. I'm pathetic. I’m also almost late.

And almost late you were. Somehow, you managed to wait just until you'd be a little too fumbled on the clock in order to get your ass out of your dorm room's bed to do something about it, and never even bothered to check if there would be any coffee to be made.

Just one of the many minor self-sabotaging shit you pulled against yourself from time to time.

After grabbing the damned drink and tainting it with further things to mask its terrible taste, your sleepless and nearly-late ass, when running across the cafeteria, body slammed by accident the same guy that was in line right in front of you. He was then covered in your coffee — an unholy concoction of said beverage, cold water, milk, and pancake syrup for sweetening. 

Not only that, but to top it all off, you chuckled right after you began apologizing, actually laughing at the poor man.

It wasn't because the situation was even remotely funny, or that you were cackling at his humiliation. You just had the laughter response to stressful or embarrassing situations.

At church, during the national anthem, at an accident, or in the middle of a very hard test — whenever you were really stressed, you found yourself having to hold your urge to cackle.

Unfortunately, even after twenty-seven years, this was something you hadn’t quite mastered yet.

As you tried to grab some napkins from the counter behind him, you slipped, ceasing the laughter immediately.

Instant karma. Seems fair.

Before you hit the ground, though, he held you by your waist and with a hand on your arm. You felt the taut muscles under the suit enveloping you and pulling you back on your feet in one dexterous, swift motion. His shoulders were not slouched anymore.

"Shit, shit, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, trying to shuffle yourself away from him. His grip was tight, clearly from someone that had just been startled, and his body felt warm — especially considering you had just covered the poor guy in hot liquid.

As you parted yourself from him, you finally took a good look at the man. 

The best words to describe him right now were disheveled mess. His tie was crumpled, his white button shirt had a massive brown stain from the coffee spilled, his short black hair was messily pulled back leaving a few strands out to frame his forehead, and his ashy black eyes were clearly surprised as he tried to check if you were alright. 

And that beautiful hooked nose.

He was definitely brooding and good-looking — the tired, overworked, insomniac, bags under his eyes and two steps away from sleeping on his feet kind of good-looking.

The front certainly matches the back.

Then, realizing your mind was doing whirls about his appearance, you shook your head for a moment, dispersing the thoughts away.

"It's fine, just let me-" he answered, taping his hands around his suit, seemingly looking for something. 

You had nearly forgotten you were tight on time until you heard the bell ringing. He turned around startled when it rang, cussing something under his breath, which gave you the perfect opportunity to dash away.

"I'm very sorry! I'm really late for my next class, I need to run, but I'm so, so sorry!" you blurted as you took off running, feeling a tinge of guilt knowing full well you had left him alone to fend off for himself with that abominable coffee stain.

So, why clusterfuck?

When you arrived in class, having lost yourself on campus twice when running around like a dizzy duck in a fatigued haze trying to find the right classroom, you saw who was sitting at the professor's desk in front of the entire classroom.

That huge coffee spill was pretty visible, even if he had now closed his suit jacket on top of it.

Shit.

The man was fumbling around with some papers over his desk with one hand while he adjusted his glasses — that he wasn't wearing earlier — with the other.

You sat in the back of the classroom, which had an amphitheater architecture to it. If you were lucky enough, though, maybe he wouldn't notice you.

However, upon further inspection, you noticed that the back of the class was especially empty, and realized at that moment you were standing out like a sore thumb. 

This couldn't get any worse, could it?

You wished for a hole to appear right under your feet and drag you down.

"So, good morning to you all. I apologize for my late arrival. As you can all tell, I had to face some unforeseen circumstances," he began, pulling on the edge of his jacket suit to reveal the brown-colored Rorschach of shame plastered over his white shirt.

Some students laughed, and you recoiled in your seat, praying this was all just a first-day-in-class-embarrassment type of dream.

It wasn't.

"Welcome to Criminal Law I. My name is Higuruma Hiromi, and I'll be your professor. I hope you all can learn a thing or two from me," he said, before stepping in front of his desk and sitting over it.

"So, I'd like to begin this class with the following question: what is fairness?"

Some hands jumped up, and you slid yourself under your seat even further, surely to hit the ground if you sunk any deeper. 

Higuruma's eyes began darting around the classroom.

Something you'd learn in a second about him was that he liked to poke at the students who didn't seem keen in participating, just to create some stormy engagement and get truly unexpected answers.

The ones who lifted their hands, the classic know-it-alls, were the students he considered to be remarkably boring and utterly predictable.

"You," he stated, and it took you a few seconds — and multiple blinks — to realize his finger was pointing in your direction. "Girl with the red scarf, tell me what you think fairness is."

You were at a complete loss for words.

"I… I… Fairness…"

Then silence.

You couldn't muster up anything to say to save your life.

You really should have slept better.

He sighed, and tilted his head to the side.

"Guess I'll have to demonstrate it."

Nobody understood what the professor meant, and much to everyone's surprise, he began walking up towards you, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he did so.

Then, looking straight at you, he stood beside the exit door, and gestured towards it. 

"Girl with the red scarf, please, leave this classroom."

Before you could actually be offended that he didn't even ask your name, you felt your stomach drop, and your face glow a warm, deeply uncomfortable red.

Out of everything you thought could happen, getting kicked out of the classroom within the first five minutes into a lecture wasn’t even listed as one of the top 10 alternatives.

What the fuck? Isn't that a little excessive?

Speechless, you grabbed your backpack from the ground, and lifted yourself up, standing there for a few seconds, completely dumbfounded. The classroom was silent enough that a needle falling on the ground could be heard.

And then, suddenly, the urge came upon you, raining down like a hailstorm.

Laughter bubbled up your throat, and you coughed a little, pursing your lips shut, scrunching your face all around, trying to avoid any sound from leaking out.

He looked at you a little puzzled, and seemed to be wondering if you were about to have a stroke.

You began walking towards the door, but as you were about to cross it, he extended his arm in front of you, blocking your passageway.

"Stay there for a second."

"What?" you asked, coughing a little to shy the laughter away, and his face was once again briefly puzzled when he heard your voice.

A few seconds later, he softly shook off whatever thought that was, and resumed speaking.

"Is this fair? Asking a student to leave a classroom because they failed to answer an open-ended question?" he inquired the other students, waiting for someone to answer.

"N-no, it's not," some guy answered from the front.

Higuruma gestured for you to seat back where you were, and you clumsily stepped your way back, face flustered in utter and absolute embarrassment. This was definitely how bad it all could get. Is he dunking on me for spilling coffee on him and running? That's petty.

 The man was certifiably insane. He was lucky to be so good-looking.

"And why it is not?" he proceeded with the questioning, slowly walking back towards the front of the class again.

"It would be excessive to do so," another student answered.

"Correct. Precisely that, it would be excessive," Higuruma chimed, sitting back over his desk, legs mildly spread as he opened his suit jacket and mindlessly smoothed out his tie with one of his hands. "Criminal Law isn't just about subsuming a person's actions to something the law has described as a crime, and then mechanically submitting said person to some randomly prescribed penalty. Fairness is the most vital and important theoretical foundation when studying criminal law. Not answering a question could be considered some type of in-class offense, sure, and expulsion from the classroom is one possible way to punish the deviant student, but it would be disproportionate and unreasonable to do so."

His gravely voice filled that classroom with no effort whatsoever, and it was an actually pretty good exposition.

It was one thing to describe what a sunset looks like, and another, very different, was to actually show one happening in real time. Words paled in comparison to the crimson, purplish sky engulfing the end of a day.

Most of your teachers, up until this point, had simply begun writing something on the white board at the start of each class, and made less than memorable remarks while spitting out the theory written in the recommended books list in the syllabus. So distant, so abstract, so… Detached from real life.

This was thought-provoking. This was enthralling. Well, this was the reason you enrolled in law school in the first place. 

For a moment, you forgot this professor had just exercised his petty revenge on you, propping yourself up with trepidation. Your tiredness was completely forgotten as his monologue ensued.

He was the real deal.

"Fairness. It will be your guide to assess if a given penalty after a verdict is adequate or not, if someone who acted in self-defense should be found innocent or exceeded their rights in doing so… If the law itself is good enough as it is or should be subject to change, because a penalty might be too high for a seemingly innocuous offense that shouldn't even be a crime in the first place." 

Higuruma paused for a moment to let his students simmer on his words.

"Fairness is the be-all and end-all of Criminal Law. I need everyone to understand this before we proceed, because fairness will be our primary lens in this classroom when studying the subject. So, can I trust that all of you understood what fairness looks like, rather than what it can be conceptualized as?"

He darted his eyes in your direction, and you saw yourself unconsciously nodding in acquiescence. 

You were sure you caught a whiff of a smile on his face right before he resumed his introductory class of principles in criminal law.

***

“We are the only nerds that do this in the teacher’s lounge,” Higuruma stated, as he made his next move on the checkers board.

“You’re probably right,” Higuruma’s best friend replied in his pristine striped gray suit vest, as he thought for a second before making his own move and taking three consecutive pieces of Higuruma’s checkers as he did.

Higuruma groaned in response. Why does he always win on checkers? Goddammit.

“How are you so good at this, Kento? Let’s play chess, just so then I get to win” he complained, leaning back against his chair. “ I can see you winning this one in three moves.”

Nanami huffed. “Checkers was your idea. Besides, we both have our classes soon, there wouldn’t be enough time for a proper chess game.”

Higuruma removed his glasses and slid them inside one of his suit jacket’s inner pockets, brushing the tips of his fingers against his closed eyelids. He couldn’t catch a wink of rest the previous night, anxious to be back in a classroom after such a long time.

It all became very blurry, so he put his glasses back on.

Higuruma didn’t know if he was eager, nervous, happy or dreading this day.

Perhaps a mix of everything and then some.

“I needed something to wake me up. I’ve barely slept, and I’m in dire need of some coffee.” 

“You could try drinking the coffee from the teacher’s lounge,” Nanami pointed out, gesturing his head in the direction of a creepy looking and unkempt thermal bottle. “I wouldn’t advise you on it, though. Only professor Ieiri has been brave enough to drink it so far.”

“I guess I’ll take my chances with the foul cafeteria coffee, I might survive that.”

Nanami smiled as he looked at his friend.

“You’re too overly dramatic.”

At that, Higuruma scoffed.

“And you’re too underly dramatic. That’s why I teach the passionate, great chair of Criminal Law, and you’re responsible for the boring, sleep-inducing chair of Commercial Law.”

“It pays the bills pretty well at my firm,” the other professor retorted. 

Higuruma lifted an eyebrow, as if offended that Nanami thought that argument would dissuade him from his stance.

They were both silent for a moment before Nanami spoke again, noticing the deep eye bags on Higuruma's face.

“Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“No more than the usual,” Higuruma replied, shuffling on his chair, still focused on the checkers board.

Nanami lifted an inquisitive eyebrow, silent for a while, and Higuruma sighed.

“I mean it. I’m fine.”

Still a little unsure, Nanami nodded.

“Okay. Just reach out and come to my office if you need anything,” he offered, slight concern masked under the monotone of his voice. 

“Aw, he likes me,” Higuruma playfully chanted. “So thoughtful of you, my dear.”

“Tsk, shut up,” Nanami scoffed as he got up, taking his neatly folded blazer on his bent arm, “and it’d take me two moves instead of three to have this victory over you.”

“Seriously?!” Higuruma exclaimed, glancing at the board. Upon further inspection, he realized his friend was right. “Shit.”

“Hiromi, go drink your coffee at once. You’re barely functional right now, there is absolutely no way you could teach a class in the state you’re in.”

“Kento, I could teach criminal law in my sleep,” Higuruma mused before lifting himself up. Nanami sighed as Higuruma exited the room.

***

This might be the worst coffee I’ve ever drank, Higuruma thought to himself as he put his cup over the counter and removed his glasses to pinch on his nose. It was all but a failed attempt to air out the foul taste of that watered down, sad excuse for a coffee.

He tried drinking it with nothing — no sugar, no milk, no sweetener, but this atrocity begged for anything to mask the old powder aftertaste.

After folding his glasses and throwing them in one of his suit’s inner pockets, Higuruma let out a heartfelt sigh, just hoping for things to go smoothly that day.

He'd have his hopes torn to shreds in seconds.

Some loud, hasty steps coming in his direction caught his attention, but as soon as he turned to face whoever that was, Higuruma was met with a hot splash all over his shirt and tie.

You have to be kidding me.

“Shit! I’m so sorry!”

He heard a female voice coming from the blurred face right in front of him. Her voice was what he’d call an unusually sweet — if worried — voice. It had a genuinely kind melodic quality to it.

Even if hasty, her words sounded like a heartfelt apology.

Then, she… chuckled? 

Hm… What?

She seemed to lean over dramatically and grab something from behind his back. 

However, on the way back with her arm, her body brushed against his in a worrying fashion, and Higuruma quickly realized she was about to fall. Even though he was over 24 hours sleepless, adrenaline and his reflexes kicked in, as he held her before she could hit the ground, pulling her against him to stand on her feet.

He was still somewhat disoriented from lack of sleep, and failed to realize his hand was still holding her arm intently before the woman squiggled away from his grip.

There was a red blurry thing under her also blurred face.

Only then did he realize he should probably see her face and talk to her properly about the debacle.

The professor said it was fine and began tapping around his suit, not remembering in which pocket exactly he threw his glasses in. However, before he found it, the bell that indicated the time for the first class rang, and Higuruma realized he had completely lost track of time. 

"Fuck," first class and already running late. 

The woman seemed to apologize and ran away, leaving him dumbfounded.

The professor finally managed to find his glasses, fishing them out of his pocket and putting them on, glad that his next class was at the building just around the corner. 

He walked hastily towards it, and got there in less than a couple of minutes, seizing the opportunity to check on his state on the mirror as he entered the elevator.

The coffee stain was humongous and very evident on his white shirt, but he was glad that at least his black tie seemed to fend off fine from the beverage. As Higuruma passed his fingers over the fabric of both pieces, however, it was somewhat sticky. 

He let out a disheartened sigh, stepping out on the corridor and into the classroom, placing his briefcase on the side of his desk.

Now, what will I teach these people today?

Hiromi began ruffling around his papers trying to find the course syllabus, and realized he hadn't brought it with him. These papers were nothing but useless administrative shenanigans, so he decided to wing it in any way he could to illustrate criminal law for the students.

The thing is, how can you effectively grab someone's attention when it's 7 o'clock in the morning, and most people are completely hungover?

With adrenaline, of course.

***

The rest of the class went on without a hiccup, and you had made much more notes than you anticipated you would. His voice had a weird calming and focusing effect on you, as much as you hated admitting it — also, it wasn't so hard accompanying him walking around making his exposition when his face looked like that.

However, you decided you'd talk to him, first off because it would be incredibly uncomfortable to keep going to both of his classes for six months without ever addressing the coffee faux pas, and second because you had just been victimized by the pettiest revenge known to mankind by a college professor. 

You kind of deserved it, but still. It was pretty immature, even if he was Dr. Genius who just taught the best class you had ever seen in your life.

"So, students, we'll have a quick test this week," Higuruma stated, "the Dean has requested that all professors use these to assess your knowledge every month, and I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible."

Many sighs and displeased grunts could be heard around the classroom. He leaned over his desk as he sat, putting his papers away in his briefcase.

"I know, I don't like it either, but at least you'll only need to study a week's worth of content, not a month."

Some hm, fine, ugh, were uttered by the students as they left the classroom. You walked hesitantly behind them all, waiting for everyone to leave before you could speak to him alone. 

You were already going to be remembered as the girl mock expelled from the classroom. No one needed to know you also had assaulted their professor with a desecrated cup of coffee before that.

As you stepped in front of his desk, he lifted his gaze to meet yours.

"Yes?"

Something you hadn't anticipated was that looking at him — and his hooked nose — up close like this would jumble your thoughts around.

Oh, shit. He's handsome.

Dumbified, you spat out the first thing you could think of.

"So, professor, I'm the student you fake expelled earlier," you stated, realizing he obviously already knew that.

Brilliant. Off to a great start.

Higuruma nodded, feeling something prickling at the back of his brain as he heard your voice for a second time.

"What did you think? Was it a good way to convey this class motif?" he asked, finally closing his briefcase and putting it on the ground, completely ignoring the fact that it was probably an uncomfortable experience for all of the people involved, especially you.

You were a little incredulous at how oblivious he seemed to be, and it annoyed you. Was this out of good heart, or was he playing dumb?

"It was a good exposition, professor, but I wanted to talk about something else," you answered.

“5000 yen.”

“... What?”

“That’s my law firm’s hourly fee.”

You stood silent. He chuckled a little, shrugging back.

“I’m joking. I don’t even have a practice. Tell me what you need.”

Is this guy for real?

You cleared your throat before continuing.

“It felt horrible to be on the spot like that out of nowhere, without any knowledge as to what was going on.”

After blurting it out, you braced yourself, knowing full well by now that professors were usually pretty big ego'd kind of people. Nonetheless, this had to be said, at least for the sake of the next student he decided to torture with one of his experiments.

He looked at you with wide eyes, and seemed to ponder for a moment.

“Oh, I see. My apologies,” Higuruma offered in earnest, while his face softened.

You were very surprised.

“Oh, okay," you mumbled as you scratched the back of your neck, "I accept your apology. But maybe you should really give the student a heads-up next time you intend to do that.”

“That would presume I consider that students are people, and not minions to torture.”

Uh?

“Also a joke.”

“You’re not very good with those.”

Did I say that out loud? 

He simply stared surprised at you, seemingly a little shocked.

I did say it out loud.

"Fuck."

And that too. 

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Higuruma suddenly chuckled, much to your surprise. Your eyes widened, and you stared at him, extremely confused as to what was up with this guy.

“You're a sincere person," he noted, and you shrugged hesitantly.

Higuruma was definitely amused at this exchange.

He then proceeded.

"Being sincere is good, but my best friend always warns me to try keeping it to myself most of the time. I don’t listen, of course, but maybe you should for now. People get offended easily.” 

His exposition made you feel a little less out of place — and less alone, for what it was worth. You instantly remembered your parents used to chide you for blurting out things like that out of nowhere, instead of keeping them in your head like other people do, according to them.

You didn't realize you were smiling as you mindlessly opened your coat.

He took notice of your shirt, and began slowly realizing there was something off about it.

"Is that usual?" you asked, out of the blue.

He shook his head, being pulled out of his head. "What?"

"The mock expulsion?"

"Heavens, no."

"Then, why?" you inquired.

He rubbed his face with his hands.

"Because I needed something to wake mine and everybody else's brain up. Classes shouldn't be this early, and I didn't get a wink of sleep last night."

Higuruma was still out of sorts, spilling the tea of his insomniac state to one of his random students whom he had just met.

"Oh, me neither!" you told him, also absentmindedly, on a stream of consciousness rant towards a professor you were talking to for the first time. "Classes should start after noon, at the very least…"

"I know, right? Some things shouldn't be a crime, but making people wake up this early for class definitely ought to be."

You laughed softly, and you both kept silent for a moment, before you remembered what you thought was the reason for the mock punishment.

"Oh, professor… I'm sorry about the coffee."

He was confused for a few moments before broadening his eyes as he finally realized it.

No wonder Higuruma felt like he recognized your voice from somewhere, and now he took a good look at the red smudge he had seen earlier under what he figured was your face.

It was the ugliest scarf he had ever seen.

"I came here wanting to ask if you had done the fake expulsion thing as some sort of…" you sighed, a little ashamed. "Well, I'd like to apologize for staining your clothes, and offer to get you new ones, or at least pay for your laundry fee if needed."

He lifted one eyebrow at you before he resumed speaking.

"I didn't catch your face then. I mean, I didn't recognize you at all," Higuruma answered, "so no. But I'd never… Well, you barely know me, so you wouldn't know, but my opinion on the matter is that professors that exert selfish vendettas against students, for whatever reason, are absolute fools."

"You didn't recognize me? Say what now?"

He pointed at his glasses, and you finally understood completely how all of this petty revenge narrative was entirely in your head.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay."

"But still…"

He sighed.

"It was a possibility, given how things in a college setting usually go, but that is why we investigate things further before prosecuting, right? A narrative might make a lot of sense, up until you confront it with the gathered evidence."

You joined your hands in front of you, embarrassed.

"Yes, I guess so," you answered, "but please, let me at least pay to get your clothes cleaned."

The professor shook his head.

"Absolutely not. You're an undergraduate student. I've been one, I'm quite aware of the financial hardships most of you endure as I've struggled with them myself not so long ago."

Even though you felt somewhat uncomfortable about not evening things out, he was right. This money would be fairly missed — you were already missing the $2 worth of coffee you didn't manage to drink.

"It was an accident, you didn't cover me with your beverage intentionally. Also, you had to leave because you were late for my class," he paused, "and I'm actually flattered you'd leave someone to fend off for themselves against that foul cafeteria coffee just to run to one of my classes."

You chuckled a little, and he proceeded.

"So, it's okay. You don't have to pay me for anything. This is fine."

You sighed, truly relieved, and he was glad you came to talk to him and properly apologize for the blunder.

"Thank you for your time and kindness, professor. I hope you have a good day."

He bowed his head slightly.

"Same to you."

However, something was still scratching at the back of his mind.

"Hm, hey… since we are on the topic of clothing and I just let you off the hook on paying for my dry cleaning…" Higuruma said, and you stopped midway towards the door, turning to face him.

"This might be an odd question, but I'm very curious."

"Hm… what is it?"

He pointed at your sleeping shirt, now evident under the open coat.

"Are those pajamas?"

You immediately pulled your coat over your hello kitty top, lifting one eyebrow in pathetic defiance.

"Of course… not?"

Higuruma thought to himself that you were turning into one of the most unique students he ever had.

"Do you intend to be an attorney?"

"... yes?" You answered, with some suspicion.

He huffed.

"Then improve your lying game for Court. You can do your crazy, but defend it as if it was the utmost truth in the universe, okay?"

Higuruma couldn't quite explain it, but this conversation with you was strangely amusing.

Maybe going back to the classroom wouldn't be so difficult after all, if even half of his students were a little out of sorts like this.

"... Okay," you replied, removing your hand and letting your pathetic sanrio pajamas shirt show once again.

"So, are those pajamas?" he inquired again, more incisively.

You straightened yourself and made a fake serious expression.

"Of course not."

"Much better," Higuruma answered with an actual smile.

The way his cheek creased around his mouth was weirdly charming, just as most things about him, it seemed.

Trying not to stare, you smiled back at Higuruma and turned around, leaving for your next class with heat prickling against your cheeks.

Tag list:

@arusearu @yammy-yammy-yama @markleeisdabestdrug @redlikerozez @delirious-donna

@alwaysfreakingout @murderofravens @senseifupa @higurumapet @cindyneko-strider 

@ohhheymessa @actuallysaiyan @bigbaddulce

[denaliwrites]

Little Creepy House

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Catch and Release Prompt: "Attic"

Summary: The Doctor really doesn't like attics. Unfortunately, that's where the alien of the week is.

Soundtrack: Walking on Air by Kerli

Requests: Open!

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp

Warnings: Canon-Typical Peril.

"Oh, no," the Doctor groaned from behind you. "Why'd it have to be an attic?"

Indeed, the two of you, as well as the owner of the house (and the mother of the missing child you and the Doctor were looking for), were looking up into the dark hole in the ceiling that fed into the house's attic.

Even you had to admit that, staring into that deep dark shadowy black, you were a little nervous too.

Unlike the Doctor, though, you didn't hesitate to climb up the rickety set of wooden steps leading up. Your head popped up over the threshold, eyes scanning the dark quickly before you hauled the rest of you into the room.

"Bethy?" you called out into the dark. Everything sounded... strangely muffled, up here. Your voice didn't reach nearly as far as you expected, and when you heard the Doctor say your name, you swore it sounded like he was speaking through cotton.

"Bethy?" you tried again, louder, more alert now that you knew you had to really make an effort to hear things up here.

Which... was a little odd, wasn't it? You knew attics were sometimes creepy, full of dust and ancient furniture and vintage chests with skeletons in their wedding dresses stuck inside them.

But you'd never heard of a noise-canceling attic.

You were so busy thinking and listening that you forgot to keep an eye on your feet. Something in your path tripped you up and nearly sent you flying. Wheeling around, however, revealed that nothing was there.

Okay, but you knew the difference between tripping on an object and tripping on air -- there had definitely been something there a moment ago. You may not have seen it, but it had to exist somewhere in the vicinity.

A shiver cascaded down your spine in a way that reminded you of the time the Mean Girl in your class had dropped an ice cube down your shirt. In fact, you were pretty sure that the shiver even left behind a trail of cold sweat that only served to further mimic the memory.

"Doctor?" you called, turning back.

Wait, where was the entrance?

There should've been a glowing beacon of light emanating from behind you, but instead, just pure darkness greeted you. Enveloped you. Made you want to cry out for your mother.

"Oh, fuck this place," you growled to yourself, facing ahead and forging on, steps as determined as they were unsure.

"Bethy?" you shouted again after a minute or so, hoping that somehow it'd reach her this time.

Only silence greeted you at first, but then --

"Mom?" a tiny voice cried out, and you spun in place, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. "Mom?" the voice cried again. You swiftly turned to your left and all but ran ahead, not even caring what danger may lay in wait for you.

"Hey, hey, hey," you said comfortingly as you got nearer to where, to the best of your abilities, you'd calculated the voice was coming from. "I'm not your mom, but she sent me. I'm here to take you back to her, okay? You can come out, it's safe."

You thought maybe you'd been wrong, or that the girl had run away, or maybe that she was just considering her options, but only a moment later a small body launched at you like a missile and hit your body with force. Tiny arms circled your hips, and a scared voice whimpered into your shirt. You could hear sniffles, too.

Kneeling down to the girl's level, you pulled her into a hug and whispered comforting nothings for a moment. She needed a parent -- her mother, to be precise. But you were the best she had for now, so it was up to you to fill in the gap.

"Hey, it's okay," you told her, pulling away so that you could look her in the eyes, your hands gripping her shoulders firmly. "We're going to get out of here, and you're going to see your mom and give her a big hug. And I'm gonna see my friend and give him a big hug. Yeah?"

She nodded, trying to contain her sniffles while she wiped away her tears.

"Say it, Bethy. C'mon."

"Yeah."

"That's a girl. Okay. Let's get the hell out of here."

You stood and took her hand, then turned to face the direction you thought you'd maybe come from.

Well, that wasn't good, was it?

Unwilling to show your fear to the girl, you marched on ahead, gently tugging her along with you. For a while, the two of you were silent as you tried to navigate the dark. Then --

"Hide!"

And then Bethy was gone, quicker than you could even process what had happened. "Bethy?" you called, feeling panic rising in your chest. "Bethy? That's not funny -- where the fuck did you go!?"

There was no answer. At least, not from Bethy.

You could hear something, though, lurching closer. Each muffled, thunking step was accentuated by a rattling breath and a growing sense of dread. Suddenly, you understood why Bethy had told you to hide.

Instead of even trying to do that, though, your body stood frozen, eyes locked on a looming shape in the darkness.

A pathetic moan spilled from your lips as the thing moved closer, and you could finally see details -- though you wished you couldn't.

Its body was an ever-shifting mass of shadows, rippling and roiling. You could see limbs -- arms and legs of flesh, but they were unlike anything you'd ever seen before. The legs reminded you of Godzilla with how thick and heavy they seemed, while the arms -- well, if you had your wits properly about you, you would've compared them to a crab. One arm was massive and ended in a sickle-like claw, while the other was significantly smaller, and looked more like a proper arm -- though the fingers were also claws, just... smaller.

And its face was...

Well, you screamed when you saw it.

The scream was short-lived, cutting off as soon as its massive claw lifted menacingly into the air.

Oh, God, this is where I die, you thought. You weren't going to save Bethy, you were never going to see the Doctor again, or your parents, or anyone in your family, or your friends, or -- or anyone. Anything.

"Don't you fuckin' dare," a voice pierced through the darkness, the void, the hollow silence. It sounded dangerous. And it sounded an awful lot like the Doctor.

The claw froze in the air, no doubt only in hesitation, but a moment of hesitation was all you needed to move, to dive for cover somewhere far from that terrible, awful thing.

"That's better," the Doctor said from... somewhere. You weren't sure. Frankly, you kind of didn't even want to know. All you could say for sure was that, for this moment right now, you were safely hidden under a table, which just so happened to be covered with a white sheet, giving you an extra layer of security.

"Now, why are you in some poor single mother's attic, terrorizing her daughter?" the Doctor asked. All he received in response was the suffocating silence of this godforsaken room.

You heard the sound of the sonic screwdriver. The alien, or creature, or whatever it was, finally made a sound -- you thought it might've been a growl. It sounded... like rocks grinding together, but... garbled. Muffled. Like you were hearing it in impossibly deep water.

Your instincts told you to keep quiet, to be silent as the grave. Even quieter, actually, if that was possible.

That deep, gurgling growl, though. It sent such an intense wave of fear through you that you couldn't help the pitiful moan that came out.

There was a shuffle, followed by one of those awful feet stamping the ground. The alien had turned around.

"Oh, I really wish you hadn't done that," the Doctor sighed. "Run!"

You didn't need to be told twice. Where you were running to was a problem for future you, all you knew for the moment was that you needed to get the fuck away from that thing.

You only stopped running when something in the path tripped you and sent you flying towards the floor. You braced for impact, but other than a sharp hiss, you didn't acknowledge the pain. Instead, you turned sharply and grabbed at the thing that had tripped you.

Your hand wrapped around something cool and smooth, and when you drew it closer you saw that it was the leg of an old ceramic doll. Creepy, but harmless. But that didn't explain how it had disappeared earlier.

The wail it released sure did, though.

You shrieked in return, throwing the doll away into the darkness in fright. "What the fuck," you sobbed, "what the fuck. What the fuck?"

Only silence answered you.

Apparently, you'd run far enough away in this impossibly infinite attic that the alien could no longer hear you. Or the silence was so oppressive that even at near distances sound still couldn't pierce through.

Neither option seemed great, to be honest.

Regardless, though, you had to press on.

Rounding a corner, you were suddenly confronted with Bethy. She was facing away from you, looking down a corridor formed from stacks of boxes and furniture. You said her name quietly to let her know you were near. Big, terrified eyes turned back to look at you and she quickly beckoned you to join her.

You obeyed, crouching once you reached her side and looking down the corridor with her.

"It's the dolls," she whispered, pointing. You could just make out small shapes shifting in the darkness. "They won't let us through."

You sucked in a deep breath and released it as a sigh. "Don't worry," you told her, moving to a stand. "I got this."

Acting blithely unaware of your surroundings as you neared where you'd seen the dolls was surprisingly easy as, for the most part, you were rather unaware. However, your ears were honed into any slight sound that could possibly arise from those creepy little fuckers.

So when, miraculously, you caught the scratching of their little porcelain feet on the attic floor, you froze, geared up, and sent a powerful kick in the direction of the sound.

And you were met with the satisfying shatter of its stupid porcelain head.

More sounds started up, no doubt the assault on one had sent the others into a panic. But you were keyed in, and out for blood. Stomping, smashing, and crushing them was like a sport, and at the end of the match you'd destroyed about eight of them, and silence surrounded you.

"Bethy?" you called. "It's safe to come out now."

There was a quiet shuffling, and then Bethy was beside you, clinging to your arm to the point that it hurt. But you said nothing -- you were scared, too, and would probably cling to the Doctor the same way if he were there.

The two of you made your way through the attic, desperate for... well, anything, really. You were sure Bethy wanted the exit, and while you wouldn't say no to that, you were more interested in finding the Doctor.

You felt like you'd been walking for hours when you finally stumbled on the man himself. He was breathless, no doubt from running, but he grinned when he saw you. "There you are!" he said by way of greeting, pulling you into a hug. Then his eyes caught on Bethy, and he knelt down to her level. "And there you are! Your mum is gonna be very happy to see you."

If you ever made it out of this attic, anyway.

The Doctor made a sound at the back of his throat, and when you redirected your attention to him, you saw that he was looking at you rather seriously. "Any ideas?" he asked, eyes flitting for a moment to look at something behind you.

You felt the overwhelming sense of dread growing, and the fear kept you locked in place, unable to look back.

"No," you whimpered.

The Doctor moved closer, taking your face in your hands and forcing you to look into his eyes. "Hey," he said soothingly, smiling. You moaned in response. "Oh, now, none of that. C'mon. Be brave for me, yeah?"

Fear clouded your mind, and you could feel the thing behind you, could sense that claw hovering over you, ready to strike. But as the Doctor spoke, as more and more words of encouragement washed over you, the feeling started to recede.

And with it, you felt the monster retreating.

"K-keep talking," you told the Doctor urgently.

And he did, and you took his every word in, believed every word. As he spoke, and you listened, not only was the monster retreating but the darkness and silence followed it. You were starting to hear things -- birds chirping, a car driving by. A plane overhead. And you could see light beginning to filter in from... somewhere. Anywhere. Everywhere?

All you really saw, though, was the Doctor.

He was grinning -- no, beaming at you.

"Look at you," he said, voice brimming with pride. "Defeating a monster that feeds off fear and isolation."

You released a relieved giggle. "No, that was all you."

"Oh, it wasn't," he told you, his eyes looking into yours. "My words would've meant nothing if you hadn't trusted me. If you hadn't believed me."

"Of course I trust you."

His grin broadened and he let out a breathy chuckle. "That's good, then. That you trust me. We would've been in a lot of trouble if you didn't."

You laughed. "I'd probably be dead."

"We can't have that," he said, suddenly serious again. For a moment you thought maybe the monster was back, but you blinked and when you opened your eyes, he was smiling again. "No dying on my watch, got it?"

"Trust me, I do not have any plans on doing that any time soon."

[lets-try-some-writing]

Yesterday, I had to do my Earth Science Regents, and the first question was about gravity. That made me wonder…

How does Earths Gravity affect the Team? How does it differ from Cybertrons Gravity?

Thank You!

Well look at that, more world building. Nice!

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

Gravity on Cybertron was an interesting thing. Cybertronians are an incredibly large and heavily built species. As such their world is gargantuan and has much greater gravity to support them. Back on Cybertron their gravity was simply a fact of life, it was normal. Most never reached the stars, and there were only a few odd places underground that had differences in gravitational effect. Overall they assumed what they endured was perfectly normal and were totally at ease with the effort it took to move and generally get around. However when the great exodus occurred and the remaining Cybertronians took to the stars, those that came to Earth were in for a surprise.

Those that had been to the stars were used to weightlessness, but it was just as common as the intense gravity of Cybertron when all things were considered. Earth's gravity however was FAR less heavy than Cybertron's yet not without gravity like in the depths of space. The immediate response to this was absolute panic and chaos. Team Prime were trained warriors and veterans of increadible skill. They were made to adapt, but there were quite a few difficulties before they got used to the world they now resided on.

Bumblebee was used to having to run his engines on incredibly high setting in order to achieve the speed needed to get from point A to point B. Along those same lines, he was also used to having to carry around days worth of energon rations so that he could maintain the force needed to move through the slog that was Cybertron's gravity at the needed speed. But upon arriving on Earth, his usual training when flying out the window when he threw himself into his alt mode and took on the speed he tended to fall to. Instead of moving at a reasonable pace, Bumblebee was sent careened across the landscape so quickly that he immediately spun out of control, doing roughly three flips through the air before he landed on a building. The team could only watch on in horror as Bumblebee attempted to get up only to move with speed he wasn't used to, promptly leading him to skid out of the rubble in his root mode and trip over his pedes. The speed needed to move at a casual pace on Cybertron was more than enough to cause the average bot to lose control.

Arcee ran into a similar problem with controlling her speed, but her main issue came when she tried to get used to her blades again. Her attacks came far quicker than she was used to with the use of the same amount of power she was accustomed to. In order to conserve energy and not tear something to shreds, she had to lower her power output. However that in turn meant that as soon as she lost focus, Arcee turned into a burned ball of rubber in alt mode or a spinning set of blades. There were several times were she got frustrated in the beginning and ended up flying against the nearest wall in her alt mode or overshooting by an increadible margin when sparring.

Bulkhead adjusted quicker to the change in gravity due to how heavy set he already was. His biggest issue was grip control considering how much easier it was to break things when he didn't need to expend nearly as much strength to do so. He would march along with the strength he normally used and ended up breaking holes into the floor. In the beginning he would even try to reach for an energon cube only for it to explode into a mess of goo for the same reason. He became a beast on the battlefield with how much easier it was to take a swing, but in turn he also took a long time to get used to being sent flying at any severe hit. Cybertron didn't have that issue, and in fact it war harder to get any solid air when needed.

Cliffjumper had the easiest time dealing with the shift in gravity. He was more accustomed to having to swap around his movement and speed. However his issues came when he tried to push the boundaries a little too far and test the limits of what he could do on a foreign world. Some tricks simply don't work as well with less gravity, including several flips and other parkour moves. Many times Cliffjumper leapt down from a short drop off with the intention to tuck and roll and immediately get back up, as the more oppressive gravity on Cybertron allowed due to how it limited excessive kinetic energy. But on Earth, such an attempt always left him spinning like a pinwheel across the ground, getting dirt and grime in every seam of his plating. Trying to do flips became far easier, but the resulting landing similarly left him reeling since he always tried to stiffen up, expecting gravity to keep him stable.

Ratchet for his part didn't suffer much due to the difference in gravity. The hardest thing for him was remastering his motor control, which was an overall quick process. However there were a few notable incidents where he picked up a scalpel only to crush it by accident or when he attempted to work a fine machine only to instead destroy delicate wiring. It drove him up the wall, but he spent increadible amounts of time adjusting in private so as to not make a scene. As such none knew of the various explosions that came in the wake of his efforts to work with chemicals without proper control of his servos. The only one who suspected a thing was Optimus, and that was only because the Prime was quick to notice the absence of certain materials and the presence of scorch marks instead.

Optimus for his part was similarly quick to adjust, and in fact his biggest problem came from his attempts to leap and attack that way. He was used to having to throw his entire frame into every jump and leap before then having to put his very spark into the effort of climbing and firing. The most height he got on Cybertron was a few feet, but suddenly on Earth he was sent careening through the air with enough power to make him momentarily wonder if he'd sprouted wings. Several times he tried to jump on the battlefield only to go flying through the air like a bullet. There were also instances were he would attempt to do a short skip to reach something only to crash into the thing he was attempting to grab. Ratchet lamented Optimus's adjustment period greatly.

Earth's gravity was so much lighter, and in turn gave the bots that much more power and speed. But in return their control and ability to move normally suffered greatly for it. Thankfully the children never witnessed their blunders.

[thenightfolknetwork]

Um, hi. I'm human, and not a regular listener, so apologies if I'm overstepping, but I asked a friend of mine for help with this already. He said it was above his paygrade and to ask you.

So, like I said, I'm human, and so are my parents, grandparents, and pretty much all my family. And for the first ten years of my life, I thought my sister was too. When she was sixteen, she started wearing long pants and hats all the time, and we all thought it was a fashion choice. A weird one, but at least she wasn't trying to dye her hair with Kool-Aid or pierce her ears with a sewing needle and an ice cube. But then the hat came off on accident. And then my parents saw her horns. I still remember the way they yelled at her before they kicked her out. I still remember the way I just sat on the stairs, being scared for my big sister but not wanting to interfere because what if our parents turned on me, as well?

I recently moved to the city for work. It's a nice place, and there's a park near my flat. There's this woman who walks her dog in the evenings through the park, and by "this woman" I mean my sister. Well, I haven't actually spoken to her about it, but my sister has a rather distinctive birthmark on her left cheek, shaped kind of like a crescent moon. The woman does too. Her hair is shorter, her horns are longer, and she's got a tail, but there's no way she isn't my sister.

I want to reach out to her, I really do. But I'm scared of what she'll think of me. I didn't help her back when I was ten, and I can't fully blame myself for that - I was ten. But even now, I haven't cut off my parents for what they did to my sister. I still go to family dinner with them every other Sunday. They were horrible to her and I'll never forgive them for that, but they're my parents and I still love them.

Is there a way I can ever get my big sister back?

I first want to reassure you that you're perfectly welcome here, reader. You aren't the first sapio to write in to us, not by a long shot, and I sincerely hope you won't be the last.

I also want to take a moment to address a rather throw-away comment in your letter. You say you “can't fully blame yourself” for not acting in your sister's interests when you were a child. Reader, I don't see that you can blame yourself at all. I hope you can find a way to work through any lingering feelings of guilt about what happened back then.

As to your question, I think you need to think very carefully about what you want to gain from reaching out to your sister, and how you will feel if your attempts to reconnect don't go as well as you would hope. There are a few questions I'd like you to consider before making any attempts to reach out.

Your sister has built an entire life for herself independent of you and your parents. Are you able to meet her in that life, and take her as she is – whoever she is, now? Or is some part of you hoping she will slot simply and unproblematically back into your life?

You say you want “your big sister back”. I'm sorry but the person who was your sister when you were 10 simply doesn't exist any more, any more than your 10 year old self does. She has grown and changed, and you need to be sure you want to meet the woman she's become, not only the memory of the girl she was.

I also encourage you to reflect on whether you're ready for the reality of being a sibling to someone in the community. You were raised by people so entrenched in anti-creature beliefs that they abandoned their own child when they discovered her liminal nature. It takes time and effort to be able to show up for your friends and family in the creature community without trailing those ideas in with you.

If, after careful reflection, you decide you still want to reach out to her, I recommend giving her as much room as possible. Approaching her while she's walking her dog is one thing, but that is not the time to spring an entire reconciliation on her. You can introduce yourself, and either give her your contact details or write what you want to say in a letter for her to read when she is emotionally prepared.

I understand that you love your parents, and are able to remain in a relationship with them despite their social and political views. That isn't a failing on your part – it's the reality of love. We all have to make our own minds up about what we are willing to tolerate, and how, and when, and from whom. Your sister also has the right to decide who she shares her life with – even if that decision is hurtful to you.

[indestructibleheart]

Hi, fam! Okay, so I'm going to be out at an appointment tomorrow morning, so I'm kicking this off a little bit early. It's technically Wednesday in several timezones and very nearly Wednesday in mine. I'm... also a bit eager to share this, ngl.

I know that I've shared a lot of angst lately, but I swear that's not all I'm doing. 😅 In fact, the actor/playwright AU decided to wallop me in the face out of nowhere after sitting in my WIP folder for months. I'm really excited about it, so I'm gonna share the first scene!

(Also, those of you who have been to New York with me will recognize my favorite brunch spot in this scene lmao.)

---

You probably didn't even know I was in the room, but I noticed you straight away. You were talking with your friends, happy and animated and fully alive—a person living in dimensions I couldn’t access—and so beautiful. Your hair was longer then. You were the center of attention, but you weren’t afraid. You had a yellow ipê-amarelo in your pocket. I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen; I'd better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire.

INT. MOM'S KITCHEN & BAR - HELL'S KITCHEN - LATE MORNING

"I'm telling y'all," Alex is saying, punctuating with dangerously large bites of his pancake burrito. "The dude's a dick." 

It's been two hours since the nightmare audition, but Alex has been on this tirade since June and Nora first slid into the retro diner chairs across from him (at least forty-five minutes ago).

They're at Mom's: a restaurant-bar in midtown that can only be described as millennial nostalgia incarnate. The trio fell in love with it two years back—post-karaoke, stumbling in right before closing—when Alex saw God in their Fruity Pebble pancakes.  Since then, it's been his favorite place to eat his feelings.

Mom's is just really fucking comforting in general, honestly; whether it's the televisions cycling through episodes of 'Rugrats,' 'Dexter's Laboratory,' and 'Hey, Arnold!' or  the rainbow straws and Lisa-Frank-looking menus, Alex can't be sure. It doesn't hurt that they've made friends with several of the waitstaff, including an eccentric bartender, Pez, whose pink hair and painted nails fit right in with the decor. 

Today, it's the combination of breakfast sausage, bacon, eggs and cheese wrapped up in a syrup-soaked pancake that's really doing something for him. It could also be the margarita the size of his face, which Pez placed in front of him before making himself uncharacteristically scarce. But it's fine. He's probably just busy.

Alex won't admit it out loud, but what really helps is having June and Nora here to talk to… even though Nora is scrolling on her phone.

"I'm sorry," June says. She pokes an ice cube with her straw, and Alex watches as it bobs around her mimosa like a buoy. "That sounds like it sucked, but if he's really that rude… maybe you didn't want to work with him anyway."

Nora doesn't look up as she pops a home fry into her mouth. 

"Several sources say he's difficult to work with," she adds, evidently reading about Henry on the internet. "Though, in his defense, his dad did just die, like, three years ago… and there was that whole thing when he came out after. Remember?"

Alex does remember. Henry's grandmother, Mary Mountchristen, runs a pretty major company that used to own half the theatres on the West End. When Henry came out last year, she tried blacklisting his shows from her properties to punish him—which totally backfired when it got around. At least a dozen other queer writers and producers started talking about how they were also denied the space, and Mary was stoned on the streets of the theatre district. Like, metaphorically. 

Alex, Nora, and June had just moved to New York, but between June's position at Newsday and both Alex and Nora on the audition circuit, it was all anyone in their new circles could talk about. They were some of the first to know when the Mountchristens were bought out of their properties and Henry moved to the States.

This show is the first of Henry's being produced here—and it's autobiographical, which Alex has to admit is pretty fucking baller. So, yeah, Nora's not wrong. He has reason to be standoffish. Still, it doesn't explain why Alex was only halfway through his audition monologue when Henry abruptly stood up and exited stage left as if pursued by a bear.

He shoves another forkful into his mouth. "It's just, like, they're the only people who let me into the room," he says, barely finishing chewing. "Nobody wants to take me seriously, and I really thought this was my shot, you know?"

June and Nora both know Alex is having a hard time landing serious roles after growing up on a sitcom—Nora more than most, as his former co-star. What they don't know is that losing this role, specifically, feels like a kick to the stomach. From the moment Alex saw the script, he wanted to be a part of it. He can't even explain why, and now he'll never figure it out. Henry wouldn't give him a chance.

"It wasn't your only shot, and you know it." Nora fixes him with a look. "Seriously, I get it—I do—but it's just one play, buddy."

June nods. "Something will happen for you, baby brother."

At that, Alex finally groans. "Okay, calling me baby brother doesn't help me feel better about the entertainment industry infantili—"

"—itty bitty, teeny weeny—"

Alex throws a home fry at her face. 

It bounces off her forehead and into the giant gauntlet holding her mimosa with a very unappetizing splash. Just as Alex throws his hands into the air with a victorious whoop, his phone buzzes on the table. 

A glance is all it takes for him to see that it's his agent, Zahra.

"Damn," he says, deflating. There goes that upswing. "You answer it."

June balks. "Me?"

"I don't need to hear how fucking badly it went. Trust me, I got the message." Alex blinks innocently, like he's six years old again, asking her to lie to their mom about that broken vase. "Please, Bug? Besides, Zahra actually likes you."

"Everyone likes me." June rolls her eyes, but she caves—answering the phone with a haughty, "Alex Claremont-Diaz's office," before breaking into a smile. "Yeah, Z. It's me… No, Alex is feeling a little sensitive today."

(He throws another home fry at her. This one misses.)

To her credit, June's face remains totally blank as Zahra no doubt tells her how Alex insulted Henry Fox's name and all of his inbred ancestors just by showing up, or whatever—which is extremely annoying and unhelpful—but, once she says goodbye and sets the phone back down on the table, her face breaks out into a grin.

"Guess you didn't suck too bad," she says. "They want you for the part."

He doesn't know if it's Nora throwing herself at him or the shock that knocks him onto the floor.

Tagging some lovelies. If you haven't been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @barbiediaz, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @junebugclaremontdiaz, @kiwiana-writes, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

[mdhwrites]

Did Luz ever believed that she could save Belos?

I think the bigger question is whether or not Luz ever CONSIDERED that she could save Belos.

Remember, in the first episode, she shoves a pack of fireworks directly into a dude's mouth. She sicks the cubes against the crunch publisher and then just leaves. She lets Willow do whatever she wants to the monster hunters. She straight up leaves Tibbles to be eaten by his miniature pets now that they're full size. Etc. etc. Luz is not exactly someone who seems to even question what she should do to an enemy, let alone their humanity versus her own.

This isn't even a complaint about her but just kind of a fact. I don't mind that she doesn't care about her villains. It admittedly places her mindset more on the axis of the Isles which actually isn't great for her ever disagreeing with them. It's why stuff like her clearing out Eda's cheat box honestly feels weird because her morality in general is pretty close to gray but she is clearly framed as morally better than the majority of the Isles, especially early on. It's just... Not really true by her actions. Remember, by episode three she's already sneaking out for her own self glory and on mass lying to get into the school she wants and only one of those required any pushing from others to do.

It also makes the jabs at SU kind of weird because like... The show never cared about its villains before now. The fact that they're not dead is mostly because Luz just leaves them to other people or can't kill them. She's just not that sort of protagonist. I mean, she fucking branded Belos back in King's Tide as a way to make sure everyone with a brand didn't die... Which you know, kind of means HE'S going to die. She literally uses his life as a trump card to get him to do as she wants. It's part of why people laud that moment as Luz being clever because even if the way she does it is bullshit, the idea is sound.

The ONLY exceptions to this are Amity and Hunter but... Only kind of. In the episodes where they are true antagonists, she has no way to actually fight back against them, ending up leaving both unscathed as she has to use trickery or just run for it. Then they're not primary antagonists but instead people in tension with Luz which is different. Luz is shown their humanity and suddenly gives them a chance. Why is a good question and uh... The fact that of her villains, these are the only two conventionally attractive, white people who she might want to date is NOT GREAT. To put it mildly. Especially when in their third proper episode together, Luz is stating that she'll befriend Amity explicitly as part of fulfilling narrative tropes. And if you want to say Kikimora disproves this: She doesn't. Luz explicitly helps Kikimora to prove a selfish point. If she wasn't freaking out about her own family, she'd have likely left Kiki to rot. It's not like she exactly ever tries again with the little demon after all.

No, for the VAST majority of villains, you fuck with Luz, Luz will fuck your shit up. It's honestly weird that it takes Luz so long during Winging it Like Witches to decide to go the violent route on Boscha, which I just assume is so she doesn't end up back in detention or expelled. Or because she thinks Boscha can and will kick her ass if she tries something like that on her own. But yeah, Luz isn't some sort of cinnamon roll. In fact, I think a lot of people's interpretations of Luz are much more based on what her archtype appears to be than what her actual character is (myself included while I was writing fanfic for the show). She's introduced as the quirky, nice girl in the first episode and she's not SUPER far away from it, that is the closest to an archtype she has besides just kind of morally questionable teenager, if she has really any archtype or structural base to her character. You know, besides audience surrogate and thus kind of bland and non-committal in order to serve that.

She has a couple interests but 99% of the time can keep them reigned in. Sure she knows what fanfic is but that just means she spends literally anytime online/with fandom. Her energy is cute but very erratic for it showing up... At all. Her kindness is extremely limited and she honestly just isn't that quirky. She has one series she supposedly obsesses about but quotes at most half a dozen times in the show which makes it more a character quirk than a defining characteristic.

It's kind of part of why Luz doesn't grow because the series seems to spend a LOT of time trying to figure out what Luz is. Is she a morally questionable teenager? Is she an excitable goof? Is she the moral center or the one having to learn morals? And yes, a character can absolutely serve several roles and be flexible. I think she actually does that well in the first half of the series where she shifts a bit for the sake of other characters' stories, which is one option for your main character. You know, before her narrative role changes and they get a VERY firm idea of who she is siiiiiiiigh but it's still weird with how they did it.

It makes so much of what we're told and what people latch onto end up feeling contradictory. As an example: Her being bullied. We only get maybe three moments in the entire series that even hint at her having any sort of bad experience with other people, let alone kids her own age. It informs nothing about how she behaves or her character. She could have just been a normal kid most people left alone and nothing would change. So this element, that so many agree universally on, is just... Almost purely fanon and the moments it comes up in canon are really awkward and just don't make much sense with literally EVERYTHING ELSE she does.

It makes her getting a shapeshifter as her palisman ironically make a lot of sense. Her character has always just been what's convenient for the writers and what others project on her. A lot of her canon character just isn't used a lot. Instead, people opt for what the fandom says about her.

And that version might have considered saving Belos. Might have thought taking a life actually mattered. But canon Luz is just worried about becoming the bad guy. That this is the start of her villain arc, not that she is finally having to murder someone. Just that her justifications might make people say she's like the villain in her story.

Because canon Luz never considered if Belos should live. Not from the second it inconvenienced her back in Hollow Mind. Earlier with what he did to Eda if you want to be REALLY generous, even though she never acts on what Belos did to Eda. She only becomes a revolutionary once she can't have magic cloak because of it.

Almost like Luz isn't the morally good person that the show told us she was. She's just a selfish teenager which can be a lot of fun, so long as you own up to that being your character. Shame TOH never did.

======+++++======

As a note: This blog is actually a LARGE part of why I stopped really being able to write Luz. I literally had a moment writing this one off where I went "Luz wouldn't do this. This is too nice and understanding." It was ROUGH. And what sucks is that with the morality around her, at least when characters are still interesting, her being a nice, caring person is the best dynamic for her. It just... Isn't actually her dynamic and that's rough.

Also that story is from a year and a half ago. Just... Man I wish my brain would unhook from this show already. *sigh*

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[angelisgonnastartchangingurls]

robbie, on a saturday

annie's late spring was pretty nice, all things considered. robbie was just sort of living in her apartment, which they'd never really planned on or agreed to, but annie was grateful for his presence. he cooked, he cleaned, he slept in her bed. the presence of another body there was nice for her. for the last year, she'd spent more or less equal time at ryan's apartment, and so being home all the time was jarring. and would have been crushingly lonely.

she and robbie went out with jim and julia a lot, funny little group dates that more often than not ended with sex. julia was the star around which these events orbited, as she was the one who fucked everyone else. typically, julia and annie had sex first while the boys watched, and then jim and robbie took turns on each of julia's ends. after that, she and annie sometimes resumed their festivities.

it was wonderful to be so sexually active with julia for a sustained period. annie had always thought her best friend was beautiful. she had gorgeous wavy dirty blonde hair, and a lithe, yoga-addled body. she and annie were somewhat contrasted -- julia's skin took naturally to the sun, whereas annie was pale and milky and burned easily. julia's hair was cut at her shoulders; annie's long dark hair was halfway down her back. annie had bright hazel eyes behind her glasses and big white teeth; julia had a crooked smile and tired, dark eyes. annie was taller and had bigger tits. julia had her perfect bush, and annie was still shaved smooth.

annie liked kissing julia. she was such a good kisser. she also believed herself to be getting much better at eating pussy -- julia's moans backed up her claims.

she and robbie didn't really talk about the fact that they were now regularly watching each other have sex. annie had watched very intently the first time robbie had pushed his cock into julia's cunt, and had seen him looking at her tits and her pussy, sometimes with his cock in hand, stroking it and keeping it active for julia. sometimes, julia and annie made out just moments after robbie had cum in julia's mouth. annie was well aware of what she was tasting.

but when they were around the apartment alone together, they were becoming extremely casual. they changed in front of each other, and other times lounged around mostly nude. one afternoon robbie joined annie in the bath. that was kind of fun and sweet. they had a good talk.

one night, a night when julia and jim had other plans, robbie told annie as they went to be that he was going to jerk off. "okay," she said, and positioned herself up on her pillow to watch. he let her, getting himself hard to a picture of his ex gf on his phone -- but then putting it down to just close his eyes and stroke. annie watched him cum on himself and cooed approvingly. he cleaned himself up with his shirt and tossed it aside and went to bed.

in the morning, annie woke him up using her vibrator on herself.

"you keep your panties on?" he said.

"for this one, yes, it's too intense otherwise" annie gasped.

"sounds like it."

"holy FUCK" annie laughed, her legs reddening as she came. she put her vibrator down and yanked her panties down to her knees, letting her pussy cool off.

robbie had his dick out now and was stroking it.

"you know post-nut clarity?" annie said. "my male patients tell me about that."

"you don't experience that?" he said.

"no," annie said. "cumming just makes me hornier in the moment."

"hot," robbie said.

annie laughed. "no, it's awful. i feel like i need to go stick an ice cube in my pussy."

"if you do that i wanna see it," robbie said.

annie got up and dropped her panties and walked to the kitchen to the ice dispenser. she came back to the bedroom with a little moon-shaped cylinder of ice and stood at the end of the bed in front of robbie and his dick and pushed the ice inside herself. she bit her lip.

"how does it feel? he asked.

"fucking good," she giggled. her knees buckled and she nearly fell over. she had a hand over herself, holding it in. the melting water ran through her fingers. "it's melting so fast," she giggled.

"can i feel it?" robbie said. he sat up, not jacking off anymore but still hard. annie moved her hand and was surprised to feel his hand go right between her legs, touching not quite inside her, but pushing the flat of his fingers against her ice-cold labia. "that's so weird," he said.

he took his hand away and the remainder of the ice slipped out to the floor. they both laughed.

that afternoon, jonah came over to fuck. before he arrived, annie put a buttplug in as a nice surprise for him -- one he quite appreciated.

robbie was out and about so jonah and annie went at it on the couch. she was on her hands and knees getting fucked when robbie came in with groceries. "don't stop," annie told jonah. "hi, robbie."

"oh hey," he said, laughing. "what are you guys up to?"

"you know, just hanging out," annie said, her tits bouncing hard.

jonah came on her chest and the retired to the bedroom for another round. annie went to the kitchen to see what robbie bought while cleaning herself off. "do you have a buttplug in?" he asked her.

"yeah," annie said. she turned around and spread her ass to show him.

"cool," he said. "i've never actually seen one in real life before."

"you haven't snooped in my sex toy drawer?" she asked.

"no," he said.

"why not!?" annie said, laughing.

"do you think your patients ever imagine you're like this?" robbie asked. "like, you're in your office in a cardigan, if they knew you were like, walking around naked all the time, fucking all over, using a buttplug, shaving your pussy, would it blow their minds?"

"i hope not," she said. "i hope they think about it so much that it wouldn't surprise them at all."

on sunday their dad came over. he liked that robbie was staying there too, and didn't seem to think it was weird that whenever he showed up, annie was typically in panties and rarely more than that. today, she was on her way to the shower when he arrived, and therefore was fully nude. when annie came back out, towel around her waist, she said, "I love having my men here." her dad put his hand on the small of her bare back. it felt nice.

"you sound like mom," robbie said.

"yeah but when was the last time mom just walked around with her tits out?" annie offered.

"like the last time i was there?" robbie said.

"really?" annie was shocked. "i haven't seen mom naked like since i was a toddler."

"it was probably more like around the time your tits got bigger than hers," her dad said. "that was when she stopped walking around naked. but yeah, when you're not at home, she's pretty free."

"huh," annie said. she looked at robbie. "what's her bush like?"

"trimmed, tight, controlled."

"sounds like everything else in that area," annie said. her dad laughed.

"i'm hotter though, right?" annie said. her dad looked at her and raised an eyebrow. she dropped her towel.

"of course, honey," he said.

"thank you!" annie chirped.

[raayllum]

Because @kradogsrats got me thinking about it with their Harrow and Pip and Viren meta so now I'm throwing in two adjacently related cents

The first is that there is absolutely a fucking Premonition going on with dreams in the show (specifically Viren and Callum's dark magic dreams as well as Janai's nightmare) which only makes sense because all of these are 1) connected to Aaravos and subsequently star magic, and 2) dark magic which loops right back around to Aaravos

There are multiple times that images and ideas are relayed to characters who would have no way of knowing these things in the present

For example, Viren is surprised and asks Kpp'Ar about his arm, even when we know that Viren was the last person to see Kpp'Ar before he got coined, and presumably would've already been hurt / Viren would've been aware it had happened. But that doesn't seem to be the case given the dialogue

This also means that the answer Kpp'Ar gives either has to be not truthful and purely something Viren concocted (about something he didn't know had happened), which wouldn't make sense from a character or an audience standpoint, because in an episode titled "Old Wounds" we're going to remember the one visible wound we see on screen. So if the wounds are real and Kpp'Ar is truthful, there's some wonky magic knowledge time space stuff going on (which does sound like Star and adjacent dark magic to me)

We see this again with Janai's dreams concerning Khessa evolving past the point of a reoccurring nightmare to one that actually gives her, again, what we're supposed to assume is the Truth, even though Janai was leagues away from Aaravos (although she did hear his voice) and the lack of discerning his whisper wouldn't suddenly go away for no reason

And we Know there's some overlap between the dark magic dreams and the current reality happening outside the dreams, considering Viren's material reality in 5x02-5x03 directly informs his dreaming reality ("You keep moving" -> "We have to keep moving" as one example)

Most notably with the flower, Claudia begins discarding it in the dream before she drops it in real life, with Claudia receiving the flower in real life before it appears with her in the dream. So the interplay is not consistent moving in one direction solely to the other, but very much does exist

We even see this noticeably (upon rewatches) with Callum's dark magic dreams featuring foreshadowing for future seasons. Not only does having the Key represent dark magic in the dream make extra sense because it is connected to Aaravos, who is also connected to dark magic of course, it likewise has the Ocean rune on display in particular, hinting at things that haven't yet come to pass, but things that very much will

Why does this matter? Well... when Harrow does show up in Callum's dark magic dream, he is notably chained down

Or, y'know, caged like a bird

Now, this could just be because TDP likes its poignant but hella on the nose symbolism on a regular basis. It likes to use a variety of symbols concerning freedom, with a multitude of metaphors just in this episode alone: navigating a storm and steering a sheep; keys and chains; the key; and verbally, books to go along with the idea of fate and destiny being "written" or being rewritten by yourself. And I'm willing to bet that that's Most of it

But also... the Claudia with the flower, Kpp'Ar with his arm, the cube with the Ocean rune, and all that stuff... alongside how blithering little we know about Star magic at the present. Hopefully "Dreamer's Nightmare," which focuses the princes and a town beset by horrible nightmares pre-series and set to come out early August 2024, could give some answers if S6 hasn't dropped by then

Regardless leads me to my second thing regarding what actually happened in that goddamn kindly bedroom between Harrow and Viren (innuendo half intended)

I think Harrow's soul got split

The main reason this makes sense to me is twofold on a plot level and then there's 1-2 things thematically, but let's talk about the most concrete stuff first

1) There is a significant chunk of time between the last possible chance Viren could've done the spell and when we see the binding actually fall

Now to be fair, there's a delay between Runaan's binding falling off and Rayla's (because story constraints) but it's worth noting that as Runaan makes his way to the balcony, only then does it begin to loosen. He's left the room and (rightly) assumed his job is done probably because he knew he was growing weak and still needed to send the arrow, but it's clearly something that gave Harrow a bit of time to like, Live. If Harrow had fully died earlier than that in some capacity, the bindings would have fallen off ahead of time, so Runaan did something and we know (thanks to the Flowers) that Moonshadow elves can enchant objects tied to souls, not bodies, even if other people can be fooled by their appearances

So although the novelization and the show indicate that Viren did something shady as hell ("If Viren wanted to defy his former friend one last time, he'd have to do it tonight"), it isn't something that could've fully killed Harrow at that time

Hence the split. As Kradogsrats pointed out, the Soulfang serpent spell is something that due to the unique nature of the specimen as well as it's not exactly something you can practice (S4 even emphasizes how specific ingredients have to be sometimes in order for a spell to work correctly as well as multiple TDP short stories showing what can go wrong if you lose concentration) it was something that could've gone so wrong so easily.

Some of his soul had to have stayed in his body (but possibly left Harrow momentarily unconscious). Maybe Viren thought he had failed and killed him, and that would explain why he does nothing in the hallway while the assassins are attacking (he seems to kind of know but not fully get what Runaan's binding means in 1x08), although he does seem to have a hint of reservation about Callum being there in the hallway, which wouldn't make sense if he was sure that Harrow was dead, because then who was gonna give a shit that Callum was there?

Another part of his soul could've gone in the bird, as the Soulfang was in the room and so was Pip (quite prominently displayed). Viren at least attempting the spell and it being partially successful would explain why dream!Harrow imprisons him further (after all, why not let it be Kpp'Ar, who literally got coined?) in addition to Pip. Harrow has Runaan's arrow in him during the imprisonment scene as well, so it seems likely that both Viren and Runaan had an equal hand in ruining Harrow's body on that level

The main reason I can see there being at least a partial piece of Harrow's soul in Pip is well

2) Runaan and Ezran

Even if we disregard the thematic irony of Harrow being trapped in the physical symbol of freedom (a bird), there is the fact that Ezran being able to talk to animals is like... the biggest tell that something is coming around with this goddamn bird.

Like Ezran's ability to talk to animals thus far has not had a lot of plot relevance, okay, outside of season one. Like him with Ava and the spider is the last time it's directly core relevant in ways that would be hard to get around. Like his bond with Zym could exist regardless as well as seeing through his eyes. Even if being able to talk to animals absolutely helped set that up, it's not necessary for Ezran to have the communication ability per se to have what he has with Zym, and thus far even as more animals have been introduced (most notably Stella) it hasn't really come into play.

The main reason to give Ezran an ability like this is so that he can talk to Pip. The main reason to remove Pip from the castle as of S2 is because - even in the original plans where Ezran didn't go home in 2x09, he would still would have off screen after S3 and inevitably run into Pip. So there's clearly something with the bird that will become evident upon him interacting with Ezran, hence why they've been separated.

At the same time, I don't think Harrow can wholly be in the bird just because that removes some of Runaan's teeth (and Ezran's subsequent potential beef with him) in ways the show just... doesn't do? I always think about how easy it would've been for Harrow to have no knowledge of what Viren had done with the egg/Zym until it was already over (which 1x02 kinda indicates) only for 3x06 to go "No, Harrow was fully conscious and complicit, even if he had reservations and it wasn't his idea." Our mistakes indeed. So I don't think it'd make sense to let Runaan completely off the hook, especially when we just spent two seasons giving Viren an atonement arc and showing that he can grow and change (and it'll be Runaan's turn afterwards -- especially because within the narrative of the show, killing Harrow is the Only Tangibly Bad thing he's really done, so if he's absolved of that than he doesn't really have a point of being here to the same degree).

Continent Split in Two

If Harrow's soul was split in two, not only would reconciling that (aka maybe letting it Leave Pip, the way the Moonshadow troupe and Sarai's breath had to be released) be a way for the boys, particularly Ezran, to get another shot at processing their father's death... It would also reflect the divide of Xadia itself because of dark magic, and how that literal rift metaphorically, magically, and literally, is being healed and mended over.

It would also have an interesting parallel of Claudia (presumably whether Viren lives past s5 or not) having to likewise learn to let her father go and cope/grieve in a healthier manner, and it would mean that Harrow never comes back fully formed (because Ezran has to keep being King, narratively / arc wise) but we finally understand what truly happened to him.

[punsmaster69]

1/APR/20XX

[After checking the page again, the words have ACTUALLY been written properly this time - with a working pen.]

[A small attached sticky note reads, "heheh. couldn't not, sorry."]

i'm carried out of bed and immediately served chocolate pancakes as papyrus briefs me on the day's plan - all before i even finish waking up fully.

"YOU WANTED TO GO TO AN ARCADE, SO THAT'S WHAT WE'LL DO FIRST - EVERYONE ELSE IS GOING TO MEET US THERE, SO DON'T SAVOUR MY COOKING 𝘛𝘖𝘖 LONG."

" 'k."

"AROUND LUNCHTIME, WE'RE GOING TO STOP BY GRILLBY'S... UNFORTUNATELY."

"AFTER... WE'LL JUST HANG OUT AT MS. TORIEL'S HOUSE FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT; CONSIDERING IT WOULD BE THE CLOSEST."

"ok."

"sounds good."

"...."

he looks over his shoulder to see me still yawning, giving an eyeroll gesture and placing a cup of hot coffee in front of me.

"CAN'T HAVE YOU FALLING BACK ASLEEP IMMEDIATELY, SO DRINK UP!"

"...doesn't work, remember?"

"..RIGHT."

beside it, he places a cup of ice water.

"THAT SHOULD, RIGHT?"

i mumble an affirmative response. papyrus takes this as good enough.

——

"Yo!"

undyne high-fives papyrus, then grabs me for an aggressive noogie.

"Excited for today, you decrepit bag of bones?!"

"PLEASE BE CAREFUL WITH HIM, UNDYNE."

this diverts her wrath onto papyrus instead.

"PLEASE BE CAREFUL WITH 𝘔𝘌, UNDYNE!!!"

me and alphys fistbump.

"Good choice."

"figured you'd approve."

"S-Still wish they hadn't plastered that creepy ice cube's face EVERYWHERE in this place. Can't even have one bare wall."

"whaaat? ice-e's an icon."

"Of weird c-corporate marketing."

"and unsolvable puzzles."

"They were always that way, then?"

toriel and frisk - flowey wrapped around the kid's arm - wave as they approach.

frisk nods.

"Even the first one Sans and Papyrus set out for me back in Snowdin was unsolvable."

"IT WAS?!"

"Weird letter inconsistency."

"SANS!! YOU NOT ONLY PUT OUT A 𝗖𝗥𝗢𝗦𝗦𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 OF ALL THINGS, BUT AN 𝘐𝘔𝘗𝘖𝘚𝘚𝘐𝘉𝘓𝘌 ONE?!?"

"whoops."

"SIGH."

"REALLY, I DON'T KNOW WHY I SIMPLY DIDN'T DO IT ALL MYSELF!!"

"I CERTAINLY WOULD HAVE CAPTURED THE HUMAN WITH EASE."

"ER-"

"I'M!! GLAD I DIDN'T THOUGH, NOW!!!"

we chat for a while more before actually going inside -

"I MISS THE SUN ALREADY."

- and splitting off towards the games each of us preferred. toriel simply stuck by me to observe whatever i decided on.

somehow, at some point, we ended up just playing air hockey really badly.

𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬. 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬. 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬.

"Is this how you play??"

"is this how you play???"

repeatedly smacking the pushers together, the puck was ignored.

——

papyrus won a scary amount of tickets and used them to redeem two dart guns. one was instantly hijacked by undyne, who cackled after ricocheting a dart off papyrus' skull. she was going to fire at me, but

"You're spared for today. Don't think I won't get you another time, though!!!"

"..cool."

grillby's wasn't far, and the weather was pleasant, so walking was actually pretty alright.

the bar erupts into noise as we show up. there was a barrage of questions and comments about everyone and everything, but the chaos made any recollections of it blurry. (fun chaos, don't get me wrong.)

i waited for the right moment - somehow, i knew it would happen.

my brother raises his glass of milk.

"WILL EVERYONE PLEASE RISE AND GIVE A TOAST TO MY BROTHER, SANS, WHOSE BIRTHDAY IT IS TODAY?!"

a roaring sound that resembles a "YEAH!!" as everyone in the restaurant rises to their feet.

i move quickly, placing one on each seat - unnoticed amidst the commotion.

"THREE..."

"TWO..."

"ONE!"

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SANS!!!"

appearing beside my brother as if i'd not moved at all, i clink a bottle of ketchup with the various other beverages being lifted.

and then a loud,

deafening,

𝙋𝙋𝘽𝘽𝘽𝘽𝘽𝙁𝙁𝙁𝙏𝙏𝙏𝙏

as everyone sits back down.

it was beautiful. enough to make a grown man cry.

tears of laughter, that is.

a magician clown never reveals his secrets, but i sure was asked "HOW?!" a lot.

——

the sun has just finished setting. for the first time today, it's quiet. a gentle breeze cools the day down. toriel and i hang around on the porch to take it in - myself sat upon the rail.

"Are you truly alright with not getting much...?"

"yeah."

"spendin' time with you folks is all i wanted."

"and i got it, so."

"seems like a pretty good birthday to me."

"Still, it feels lackluster to have shown up empty-handed."

"i mean. you brought cake."

"That is a given."

"here."

"if you're really concerned about me not getting any gifts..."

"..."

i gave her a goofy grin.

"gonna be corny for a sec, hope you don't mind."

"I do not have a 𝘤𝘰𝘣-lem with it."

"In fact, I am all 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴."

in that moment, i couldn't have been more certain.

i push myself up into my knees to deposit a quick kiss on her cheek.

"...that can be my gift."

dropping myself back down to sit on the porch rail.

". . ."

"sorry for suddenly 𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 that onto you. wanted to 𝘦𝘢𝘳nestly-"

puns were halted as my mouth became suddenly occupied with something else.

when she eventually let go, i found myself sputtering momentarily trying to find my words.

"There. You being on the receiving end makes it much more of a gift, does it not?"

"i-"

"i, uh."

"thought i was supposed to initiate it??"

"The cheek is close enough. And that one, you did."

"I will count it."

"....."

"there's another thing i'm s'posed to do."

"a ques-"

toriel puts her hand over my mouth.

"Do not ask it today."

"We would have to celebrate our anniversaries on your birthday."

"what? you don't want a double-event?"

"There is a multitude of reasons."

"shoot."

"...?"

"gimme 'em. gimme the reasons."

"Firstly, birthdays are to be spent with a multitude of friends and loved ones. Anniversaries are for spending with the romantic interest. To do both of those at once would be impossible."

"Secondly, it would subtract from the specialness of each as well."

"Thirdly-"

"it'd be easier to remember."

she hadn't noticed me slowly inching my face closer and closer to her own until i spoke.

"Th-"

"birthversary rolls right off the tongue, too."

"..."

"I'll show YOU a tongue."

she suddenly sticks out her tongue. my proximity causes me to have to back away quickly.

too quickly.

toriel leaps forward and wraps an arm around me to stop me from going completely backwards off the rail.

"I did not mean for that to happen."

"good catch."

"Oddly, not the first time you have fallen from my railing."

"yeah, i'm gettin' 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭 good at doing that accidentally."

"Hehehe."

"Do I need to install rails for my rails?"

"gonna box me in, huh?"

"If it will stop you from falling, then maybe I will."

𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬, 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬.

"WE'VE DECIDED ON A SLEEPOVER-"

we both looked to the back door.

with a blanket draped over his right arm, papyrus stopped speaking to stare at us blankly for a moment.

arms wrapped around each other, being bent over the rail, her hips between my legs...

"..I ASSUME YOU ARE BUSY."

"....."

"might be a minute."

promptly spinning 180 on his heels, papyrus went back inside; carrying the same expression the whole time.

immediately bursting into laughter, tori lifts me up the rest of the way and places me on the porch.

"Awkward-looking situations seem to be your forte, my dear."

"no kidding."

"At least it was Papyrus."

"yeah."

"..."

"so, can i ask you the-"

"Another time."

"ok."

[angelsanarchy]

Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N Series CH 15 -> CH 16

"Some neighbors borrow sugar or have cook outs." "Pumping your stomach and seeing your cock seems more of a giant leap rather than a small social step"

Tagging: @roryculkinluvr @thatsthewrongwallcraig @icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06 @shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl @s-0lar @kristennero-wallacewellsver @ophelialaufey @mayathepsychic1999 @x-prettyboy-x

Jack rolled over in bed feeling the slight burn of a headache. He reached over to grab the glass sitting on the nightstand to take a drink of the stale water. He felt something brush against his foot and jerked his leg up.

"Sorry my feet are naturally ice cubes." Jack had completely forgotten Y/n had stayed with him last night. He blushed realizing how much of a mess he was last night and how fucking cute she looked in his shirt with bed head. He willed the hard on that grew and pulsated with his migraine in rhythm.

"We didn't..." Jack pulled the covers up a bit feeling how naked he was.

"Uh no we didn't fuck but you did wake up at about 4:30AM and started fighting to escape your pajama bottoms, mumbling about your balls roasting so I wasn't going to fight you." Y/n explained wiping at her eyes. Jack covered his face in embarrassment.

"Don't be shy now. I've been inside of you Thurlow." Y/n wiggled her fingers at him and made a gagging gesture that made him laugh painfully.

"Fuck don't make me laugh." Jack pleaded rubbing his temples. Y/n leaned over and grabbed more aspirin before grabbing his pill case.

"Here, take these before you take your regular meds so they're the first thing that hits the system." Y/n put the pills in his hand and he tossed them back.

"I can't apologize enough. I feel like such a fucking idiot." Jack confessed looking over at her as she stepped out of the bed showing off her long legs.

"Hey! What are neighbors for?" She joked.

"Some neighbors borrow sugar or have cookouts." Jack reasoned.

"Pumping your stomach and seeing your cock seems more of a giant leap rather than a small social step." Y/n smirked. Jack shook his head at her and pushed his hair out of his face.

"Plus I would say that we're even now. I mean you got to see me naked, it's only fair." Y/n reminded.

"I didn't see you completely naked, this feels a bit different." Jack turned over onto his back and watched Y/n pull her jeans back on. She paused like she was considering flashing him but decided against it instead.

"You'll have to work a little harder to see me completely naked sweetheart." She teased him making him cock his eyebrow.

"Only a little huh?" He questioned making her laugh.

"Well yeah, I have seen your cock now so I'd say I'd be easily suggestible." As humiliated as Jack was when he woke up, he couldn't help but feel an excited pang in his belly knowing that despite him having a complete drunken stupor, she still found him attractive.

"You've got a few missed texts and your friend Shanda called but you were drooling so I let her know you were okay and I was keeping an eye on you. She said something kicking your ass when she sees you next." Y/n held out his phone and Jack took her hand into his making her plop back down on the bed.

"Seriously, thank you. I'm so sorry you had to see me like that. You probably saved my life." Jack smiled weakly and she put her hand on his cheek softly. He leaned into the warmth of her hand.

"You're allowed to need people Jack. We're neighbors but we're also friends." Y/n reassured.

"We kind of have to be. We've seen each other naked." Jack joked earning a cheeky grin.

"Exactly!" She agreed dropping her hand from his face.

"I'm glad I have a friend so close by who knows how to handle all of this." Jack shook his pill bottle in his hand and she nodded.

"I'm glad to have a friend my age who can keep up with my wit." She stood from the bed and glanced at the clock.

"I've got to check on my mom. It's still fairly early, don't feel bad if you go back to sleep for a bit." Y/n waved at him and he nodded at her unsure of how to end this interaction without sounding like a weirdo.

"Get home safe." He cringed.

"Will do." He could hear her laugh as she descended the steps. Jack covered his face with his arms for a moment before shooting a text off to Shanda. His phone was barely still for 30 seconds before it was ringing.

"I'm never drinking again." He answered with his eyes closed.

"What the fuck! You didn't tell me you can't drink anymore you bitch. I wouldn't have partied so hard with you if I knew that." Shanda yelled.

"It's not that I can't drink, I just shouldn't drink with my medication." Jack clarified making Shanda growl.

"Yeah I told your hot neighbor to punch you in the throat for me." Jack smirked.

"How do you know she's hot?" He questioned. Shanda sent two text messages and he looked at them. One of them was a photo of himself passed out on her chest, actually cupping her tit ontop of the shirt and the other had her face in it giving and silly smile.

"She sent me a photo of you but I didn't know who she was so I made her take a photo in case you ended up murdered. She's fucking hot, you lucky bastard." Shanda explained. Jack shook his head at his friend and her investigative nature.

"I can't believe you made her take a photo of herself. I was groping her for Christ sake." Jack laughed.

"Yeah she seemed super upset about it. Is this the neighbor you mentioned?" Shanda asked.

"Yeah that's Y/N. She actually just left and told me to let you know I was alive but I do plan to pass out in about 12 seconds so-"

"Jack, she's cute has a great set of tits and likes you. Don't be a dick about it okay?" Shanda pressed.

"I'm hoping to not fuck it up. She did say some pretty flattering things about my cock though." Jack bragged.

"And on that note, this conversation is over. I draw the line at cock talk. Get some sleep and don't forget to take your meds." Shanda hung up and Jack drug himself out of bed to grab something to threw down his throat so his stomach wouldn't get wrecked by his medicine before laying back down. He cuddled up next to his pillows and could smell Y/n's hair from the night before along the top. He closed his eyes and let the smell of her lull him to sleep.

[sophierequests]

a deal is a deal // set it up part one

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

A/N: I have no words or reason for this fic. I watched the movie 'Set It Up' recently, and I just knew that I had to write a fic inspired by it. I didn't intend on indulging in it this much, but this fic will definitely be a two-partner since I have written almost 10K words and I can't possibly post that monstrosity in good conscience. I absolutely love the concept of matchmaking and fake dating, so consider this fic one huge clusterfuck of tropes I enjoy. And I hope all of you can enjoy it too <3

You can find part two here!

Summary: Wylan and Jesper are helplessly pining over each other, and everyone is starting to get sick of it. Especially Kaz and the reader seem to have suffered enough under their friends' behaviour. So of course, the only reasonable conclusion is to set them up.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 5.0K

Warnings: Cursing, feelings, Kaz being a little bitch, pining, mention of his touch aversion

“Unless you saw someone cheat at Three Man Bramble, I don’t appreciate you spying on paying customers.” You were close to falling off your barstool when Kaz’s voice materialised beside you all of a sudden.

“For Saints’ sake, Kaz!” you hissed at the darkly-clad man leaning against the bar to your left, a certain look of amusement accentuating his features as he saw the way you panickedly held onto the counter. He shook his head at how easily startled you were. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that. I was dangerously close to knocking you out.”

He raised his brows, throwing a telling glance at his cane, and then back at you. Sneaking around wasn’t exactly his speciality. At least not during the main business hours of the Crow Club. He preferred to make his presence known.

“Didn’t I just tell you to stop prying?” Kaz repeated nervelessly when your eyes returned to the card’s table you had been staring at for about half an hour now. Not that he would know how long you had been sitting here. It’s not like he had been watching you during said half an hour. He had other - a lot more significant - tasks to tend to, rather than wasting his time by letting himself get distracted by you.

“Shush,” you silenced him quickly, craning your head slightly towards him to get a better view of your stalking victims. “I’m not spying on paying customers. I’m spying on Jesper and Wylan. That’s as far away from paying customers as it can get.”

“And why exactly would you do that?”

“Jesper went right to the gambling tables after we came back from the job earlier, and he has stayed there ever since. I assume you can guess who has been standing right next to him for just as long? Our little merchling is so in love, it’s painful to watch,” you whispered excitedly, completely ignoring the fact that Kaz was not one to necessarily care for dull relationship gossip.

“I should stop giving you this much time off if this is how you choose to spend it,” he grumbled, subtly following your gaze to watch the terribly awkward scene between the two Crows. Not because he genuinely cared about their immature ways of expressing their emotions, of course.

“Don’t be such a grump, Brekker,” you snorted, giving him a playful eye roll. “Admit it, they’d make such a cute couple! They could probably even compete with Nina and Matthias - don’t tell her I said that.”

“Judging by the fact that Zenik and Helvar were blood-sworn enemies before they fell into their…situationship, that won’t be such a difficult task.”

“See! You think they’d be a great fit too! What a shame one is just as oblivious as the other,” you sighed, twirling around the few remaining ice cubes that floated around in your drink.

“And you think staring them down will help ease their obliviousness?” Your head turned to face him fully, a mischievous glimmer present in your eyes. A glimmer he really didn’t like.

“Help me,” you blurted out.

“Help you with what?” he asked, a quizzical expression on his face.

“Oh, uhm, I have no concise plan yet since I thought you’d just immediately say no to me asking you for help. What I know is that I can’t watch them tiptoe around their feelings any longer. I need to do something. And you are precisely the right person to help me with that.”

“What exactly makes me the ‘right person’ to help you with getting these two idiots together?”

“Think about it. I’m Wylan’s best friend, you’re Jesper’s best friend - don’t you dare deny it! Together we can get all the intel - all the important information on how they feel about each other. It’s perfect! We could set them up and they wouldn’t even notice our involvement.”

“Absolutely not,” Kaz answered determinedly, choosing to not indulge in your childish games any longer. “As long as it’s not affecting their job performance, their relationship is none of my concern. I have more important things to do than worry about their problems with intimacy.”

“Come on, Kaz. Please?” you pouted as the man in question already shifted to head back to his office again.

“No, Y/N. They’ll be fine without our interference,” he tactfully ignored your overly dramatic plea.

“Alright, alright,” you mumbled, watching him leave with a hint of disappointment settling in your chest. “You’ll regret it eventually.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Jesper, you’ll need to- Jesper? Jesper, focus,” Kaz ordered, having to pry the sharpshooter’s eyes away from the window for what felt like the hundredth time today. He, Inej and the lovesick Zemeni boy had been working on the details of a minor upcoming job for over two hours, seemingly not making any noticeable progress. It was safe to say that this issue was instantly accredited to Jesper, whose mind appeared to be somewhere completely else.

Even though Kaz didn’t want to admit it, he did regret not taking you up on your offer of trying to get the two together. It had become more and more evident that they were too blind to see that their feelings were mutual, and Kaz was starting to get sick of it. Why couldn’t they just act on their feelings and spare everyone around them the pain of having to watch them act like insecure little kids? What did they have to lose? It was ridiculous, really.

Kaz knew that he was close to losing his patience. And his composure would jump out of the window soon after if things didn’t change.

“Sorry boss,” Jesper apologised hastily, sitting up a bit straighter and at least acting as if his attention was back on the mindless scribbles in front of him. “I was just a bit lost in thought. The…weather is so pretty today, after all.”

The weather in question was a mixture of dark gloomy clouds and the occasional rain shower - a typical day in Ketterdam, but definitely far from pretty. Maybe the weather that Jesper had in mind was ginger and able to play the flute, Kaz thought.

“We should probably leave this here,” he let out a huffed breath, meeting Inej’s confused glance.

“What? But the jo-”

“The job can only work if everyone is on the same page,” he interjected Jesper’s unnecessary attempt at defending himself. “You can leave - both of you. I’ll see what I can work out on my own.”

“Are you sure you won’t need any help with this?” the Suli girl asked hesitantly, waiting for her friend to give them another task instead of just letting them off the hook this easily.

“No, it’s fine. Go,” he nodded towards the door, his eyes following Jesper, who was already on his way out. Before Inej could do the same, he decided to give her one last task. “Inej? Tell Y/N to come up here in the next five minutes. I need to discuss something with them.”

“You wanted to see me, boss?” you questioned as soon as you entered Kaz’s semi-tidy office space. When Inej told you that he wanted to speak to you, your heart almost sunk to the bottom of your stomach. People being called up to speak to Kaz rarely ever got out with their dignity still intact.

“Sit,” he demanded, his gaze never leaving the papers on his desk as he motioned for you to sit in the chair across from him.

“Kaz, if this is about th-”

“Don’t start. Whatever you were about to tell me has probably not been brought to my attention yet, so I won’t allow it to occupy my mind until it pops up on its own. Now sit.”

You carefully obeyed his request, slowly sinking into the offered chair while your eyes still remained fixed on the man in front of you.

“He has become absolutely insufferable,” Kaz sighed, letting his fountain pen drop out of his hand and finally acknowledging your physical presence with a defeated glare. “I didn’t even think it was possible for him to become even more intolerable.”

“Who exactly are you talking about?”

“Who do you think I’m talking about? Our favourite bawdy flirt-gill has been acting like an infatuated teenage girl and it is driving me mad.”

“Oh! You’re talking about Jesper!” you let out a stifled laugh upon seeing his tired expression. “So you’re basically admitting that I was right about us having to intervene?”

“I’m merely admitting that there was some truth to what you were saying. Don’t get it twisted and don’t get used to it,” he corrected dryly. “And wipe that self-satisfied grin off your face. I didn’t call you up here to bask in your supposed victory.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do about it?” you replied sheepishly, fully aware that you were dangerously close to testing your limits.

“I’m agreeing to whatever you had in mind as long as it stops Jesper from acting like this.”

“Consider it a deal.”

“When I told you that I’m agreeing to whatever you had in mind as long as it stops Jesper from acting like a dotty puppy, I didn’t mean that you were allowed to barge into my office whenever you please,” your boss grumbled, watching you stumble through the door like you had one drink too many.

“Good morning, Kaz, it’s lovely to see you too,” you dismissed his very obviously spiteful remark, walking right up to the chair you had dubbed yours. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our two problem children and I had an idea.”

“Oh, so miracles do happen,” he jeered, letting himself lean back in his chair as he watched you get comfortable.

“With all due respect - which isn’t a lot - go fuck yourself.”

“I’ll consider it once you’re done telling me about that magnificent idea of yours.”

“Okay, so, Wylan just stopped me in the hallway to ask whether I want to get coffee with him next Friday.” A waterfall of words began to tumble out of your mouth, giving Kaz quite a few difficulties following what you were trying to say. “So, wouldn’t it be an absolute coincidence if Jesper would also go out for a coffee on Friday? It would be such a nice change of pace for them to spend time with…different people - other than us.”

“I am not asking Jesper to go get coffee with me,” Kaz replied laconically, giving you a dissatisfied look in an attempt to convey that he was not too fond of your musings.

“I am not asking you to get a coffee with Jesper - Saints, that man is going to think that you have a thing for him. We don’t even have to leave the Slat for this plan to work.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

“Please explain to me again why specifically I have to join you on that job?” Jesper bemoaned as he followed Kaz down the stairs. He was not in the mood for playing his boss’ bodyguard today. He wasn’t even in the mood to leave the Slat. It didn’t help that a certain merchling had been occupying his mind for the entirety of last week, pushing every coherent thought to the furthest corner of his brain. “Can’t you ask Inej? Or Matthias? Or literally anyone else? Wait, why don’t you just ask Y/N? You two seem to be getting along surprisingly well recently.”

“Y/N is already busy,” Kaz objected skilfully. “And having a normal work relationship is not the same as ‘getting along surprisingly well’. Flush these thoughts out of your system immediately.”

“I’m just saying,” Jesper snickered, putting his hand up in front of him defensively.

“Kaz? Jesper?” your cheery voice greeted them as soon as they entered the living room area. Wylan and you had been lounging on the couch for quite some time now, simply chatting about life - and love, even though Wylan refused to give you too much information on his ill-fated crush. Of course, you had ulterior motives for staying that long, but your friend didn’t know that. “What are the two of you up to?”

"We have a job near Fourth Harbour," Kaz replied sternly.

"And he's forcing me to come with him," the sharpshooter groaned, his eyes drifting towards the timid boy sitting next to you, flashing him a cocky wink. "What are you up to? Whatever it is, it looks like a lot more fun than whatever Mister Ruin-My-Mood has in store for me."

"Jesper," Kaz warned, throwing you a quick glance, wordlessly asking you to take over.

"We wanted to head out for coffee and some sweet treats later," you mused, watching Jesper's expression turn sour.

"Won't you look at that, Kaz? This is what other friends do in their spare time," he grumbled.

"Hey, why don't you two just go and grab a coffee?" you offered, your gaze wandering between the two soon-to-be lovebirds.

"Us?" Wylan stammered, his finger pointing from him to Jesper, who looked equally as befuddled.

"Yes, you. Jes clearly isn't in the mood for going on a job today, and I haven't been on a proper one in ages," you suggested, giving your friends an encouraging smile.

"You genuinely want to join Kaz on a job with just the two of you? Like willingly?" the Zemeni boy joked, nudging your shoulder with his elbow.

"I'm sure I'll manage. Kaz?" You gave him an expectant look, watching as the ghost of a smirk flashed over his lips.

"Fine," he rasped, causing Jesper to break out into a wide grin, whilst Wylan looked a little short of horrified. "Maybe now we'll actually get some work done."

"And maybe we'll finally get some peace and quiet, won't we? I haven’t gone out just to get coffee in such a long time.” His attention turned to the young merch, whose head had turned as red as the soles of Jesper’s shoes.

“I’m sure you will have the loveliest of days,” Kaz deadpanned, gesturing for you to follow him outside into the hallway.

“Enjoy your day!” you called before quickly exiting the living room, leaving Wylan alone to deal with his crush. You could have sworn that he mouthed the word ‘help’ before you crossed the threshold to the corridor.

“That worked way better than I had expected,” he uttered, barely loud enough for you to hear his words clearly.

“I told you it would work,” you bragged, earning a disapproving headshake from the man standing next to you. “You’re not the only mastermind in this team.”

“So what’s the next step in your plan then?”

“We could just stay back here and wait for them to come back. I’m sure they’d tell us if something happened between them.” You locked eyes with him again, the intensity causing goosebumps to spread over his arms. “Or we could get out and follow them. Just to make sure that they’re alright of course.”

“I’m not following them.”

“This is ridiculous,” Kaz said as he watched you gape at Jesper and Wylan who were currently sitting on the terrace of the café you had pushed them to go to. You found a corner table at the bakery across from where your friends were sitting, giving you the chance to stay unnoticed while also being able to see whatever was going on between them.

“This is fun,” you hummed, leaning a bit further forwards to flash Kaz a cheeky smile, which was slightly hidden by the obnoxious fake roses in the middle of the table. “Don’t you want to see how this will turn out?”

“No.” You frowned at the impassive tone of his voice.

“You didn’t have to join me, Kaz.” He didn’t. He knew that. As a matter of fact, the pile of unfinished documents on his desk only seemed to get higher by the minute. Yet, against all his better judgement, he still abandoned his work in an instant just to go and see whether your plan was working or not. It was foolish to agree to it, however, for some reason, he still did. He was going insane - he was sure of it.

“I don’t trust you to not fuck this up on the first chance you get,” he stated after a short moment of him just staring at the empty space beside your head.

“You trust no one, yet I don’t see you holding Matthias’ hand whenever you let him go on a solo job - well, metaphorically holding his hand.”

Before Kaz could defend himself, the waitress approached your table, bringing over both of your drinks. She had a sickly sweet smile on her painted lips that made him want to bash his head onto the table. He resisted said urge in order to not make a scene though.

“I’ll assume the black coffee is for you?” the woman joked, eying Kaz’s grimly-looking outfit from head to toe, silently accepting the cup and placing it in front of him. She handed you the drink you had ordered and turned around to attend to the other guests. “Feel free to call me over in case you need anything else. Enjoy your date!”

Kaz almost choked on his own spit when he heard that. This was not a date. Not in a million years would he consider this a date. He attempted to seek some sort of confirmation that you shared his sentiment, but when he looked at your face, you didn’t even seem to care about the waitress’ atrocious assumption.

“What is it?” you inquired lowly on taking notice of his slightly bewildered expression.

“She thinks that this is a date. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“… No? Why should it have?” Kaz mentally thanked his luck that Nina wasn’t around. If she had been here to hear the way his heart was running wild she would have probably thought he had a heart attack.

“This is not a date.”

“Yes, I’m very well aware of that fact,” you let out a breathy chuckle in response to that. “And that’s exactly why it doesn’t bother me. I know that this isn’t a date. You know that this isn’t a date. So why should it matter what some random waitress thinks?”

“Oh…” For some odd reason, your answer disappointed him. This wasn’t a date, so you were right to say it. But something inside of him was beginning to make itself known.

“Oh no,” you muttered, your gaze back on the people you were actually here for. He did the same, regretting it immediately as he saw the uncomfortable scene playing out in the other café.

Wylan and Jesper were sitting across from each other at one of the tables on the terrace, giving you the perfect view of every interaction between them. But instead of them looking like the happy couple you had imagined they would be by now, Jesper was frantically collecting paper napkins, trying to help Wylan clean up the massive coffee stain that had formed a deep brown blotch on his previously neat beige sweater. And to make things even worse, the clumsy sharpshooter had taken matters into his own hands, pulling the flustered boy closer to him by the collar, whilst wiping a dry napkin over the mess he made - his face a mixture of despair and complete distress.

“Idiots,” Kaz sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to spare himself the embarrassment of watching them any longer.

“Maybe we should put them in a situation they’re more acquainted with the next time.”

“Are you familiar with the concept of knocking?” He was close to jumping out of his skin when the door to his office flew open without a warning, only for it to be you standing on the other side with two cups of tea in your hands. He hastily caught himself, acting as if you hadn't just scared him shitless. It was way too late for any person with even an ounce of self-preservation skills to enter his space without giving him any sort of notice, but of course, you just had to be the exception.

“Are you familiar with the concept of locking your door if you don’t want to be disturbed?” you quipped, not waiting for him to give you permission to enter before waltzing right over to his desk. The mug was quickly placed in front of him and you threw yourself into ‘your’ chair.

“This may be the Barrel, but some of its inhabitants still possess the basic manners of announcing their presence when they intend to bother me in my own office.” Kaz eyed your offering suspiciously, pulling the cup towards himself as if he feared that you might have spiked its content. “What is this?”

“Tea?”

“I know that it’s tea. I'm not dense,” he said, a bit annoyed now.

“Then why are you asking?”

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Kaz, you’re not a toddler. You know what to do when someone places a drink in front of you.”

“Why are you bringing me tea, Y/N?”

“That's an adequate question. I had another idea on how to get Jesper and Wylan to admit their feelings,” you began, enticing Kaz to internally question every single decision in his life that made him end up in this situation.

“And you needed to bring me tea to make me listen to that idea? You're either about to drug me into submission or you’re finally attempting to kill me.”

“Sadly neither - yet. But I had the idea while making tea. And I would have felt bad if I went up here without offering you something to drink too,” you replied meekly, a faint blush settling on your cheeks.

“I hope your idea isn’t tea-related. We shouldn’t bring the two dimwits near anything that's spillable anytime soon.”

"I solemnly swear there are no liquids involved in my idea. At least not explicitly," you assured.

"That better be the case. Let's hear it then," he muttered, begrudgingly taking a sip from his tea whilst waiting for you to collect your thoughts. It startled him how good the drink tasted. He hated that you knew exactly what tea he liked and how he liked to have it.

"You still haven't finished splitting us up in groups for the upcoming heist, have you?"

"If you hadn't dragged me along to play matchmaker, the plan would already stand," he grumbled, looking at the stack of blueprints he had yet to analyse for possible security risks.

"Then I'd like to make one suggestion. How about we - well, you - pair Jesper and Wylan together? We're all pretty familiar with jobs like this, so that shouldn't be an issue. Maybe having them work alongside each other could give their relationship just the push it needs."

Kaz looked like he was about to throw himself out the next best window. It was one thing that you had inserted yourself into the majority of his spare time like an unwelcome flu. Now you were also trying to insert yourself into his work? You were really trying to break him down to bits. And maybe he should let you.

"Please, Kaz. I'll even help you with all your boring preparation and mapping out. I genuinely think this could work," you put forward, knowing that the likelihood of him agreeing to this plan was close to non-existent.

"I'll allow it," he said, averting his eyes to look at basically anything else just to avoid letting them land on you.

"What?"

"Have you gone deaf? I said that I'll allow it," he repeated.

"Kaz, I swear to every Saint you don't believe in, I'm so close to kissing you - you’re amazing!" you exclaimed jokingly, a wide grin on your face.

"Do it and find out what ditch you'll end up in," he threatened, but you were too excited to care about the murderous look on his face.

After almost a week of scheming, scheduling and planning in the security of Kaz’s office, you had finally managed to put together a plan that would ensure two things. The success of the job. And the fact that Jesper and Wylan would be staying at each other’s side the whole time.

“I think we can pull this off,” Kaz muttered, visibly still very much in thought.

“You think we can pull this off?” you asked, absent-mindedly twirling one of his pens around your fingers.

“No.” He swiftly snatched it back, putting it down and giving you a self-assured grin. “We will pull this off.”

A few days later, all the Crows had gathered in the cramped attic space, more or less eager to hear about the plans for the upcoming mission.

“Please don’t tell me that we’ll have to go through all of these blueprints again,” Jesper whined as he saw the stack of layout plans that sat at the edge of Kaz’s desk. They had been on jobs in the University District before, so the quite hefty pile of blueprints wasn’t completely unknown to them. More than one evening had been spent slaving over them, spying out every minuscule detail that could give them any sort of advantage. But these plans were new - updated. And everyone dreaded having to do the whole ordeal of looking at them for a second time.

“Y/N and I already went through them, the annotations should suffice. Not much has changed,” Kaz answered, unaware of the suspicious glances his nonchalant comment created. It was well known that you avoided mapping out blueprints like the plague, so this revelation did raise some brows.

“Y/N and you?” Nina and Jesper blurted almost synchronously. They had noticed your absence from their usual evening get-togethers, simply chalking it up to you being under the weather or something. What they hadn’t expected was you sneaking away from them because you went to spend time with the Bastard of the Barrel. Now that they knew the latter had been the case, they had some certain thoughts on what the reason for these nightly visits might be - none of them strictly work-related.

“Congratulations, you have a basic understanding of auditory information processing. Yes, Y/N and I.” Kaz allowed his gaze to shift towards you. It felt odd to not have you sit in front of him, energetically discussing plans and ideas while the noise of Ketterdam’s streets seemed to have fully vanished underneath the sound of your voices. He hated to think that way, but he had grown used to having you around. Whether it be you staggering into his office to propose another utterly insane plot to get your friends to date, or just you keeping him company with whatever talk you could offer. The thought of this routine being ripped away from him once Jesper and Wylan realise their feelings are reciprocated filled him with more dissatisfaction than relief.

“Since when does Y/N care for analysing blueprints?” The Heartrender asked slyly.

“I don’t. It was my forfeit,” you replied before Kaz could. “We had a bet on how much money Jesper would be able to lose in a span of three days. Let’s just say that Kaz really does know you better than I do, Jes.” A lie. A good lie, Kaz thought. The only reason why you would spend your evenings talking to him would probably be the loss of a bet. But that didn’t make the pull on his heartstrings hurt any less.

“Rude,” the sharpshooter pouted.

“Anyway,” Kaz deflected, returning to his actual intention of this meeting. “We also took the liberty of assigning groups and tasks. So I’d advise you to listen carefully.” He adjusted the paper in his hands, letting his eyes fly over your jagged handwriting for the millionth time. “Helvar will pose as a guard - big and brawny with little to think about. One would say it’s the perfect fit.” Matthias let out a dissatisfied grunt at that comment. “Nina and Inej will keep an eye on who leaves, and who enters. And if there is anything suspicious you will alert me.” The two girls gave him a court nod, content that they were able to work together again. “I will attend as a guest. It’ll give me enough time and trust to hopefully get some information on the new ware shipments that are supposed to arrive the week after the ball. Our main objective is getting intel. Any other material acquisitions are just perks. And finally Wylan and Jesper.” The two boys stared at Kaz with an uncomfortable expression. He had never paired them up before. Why was he starting now? “Since the majority of university personnel will be present at the ball, you’ll take care of breaking into the administration’s office. I need some precise data on the involvement of the Council in sponsoring the university.”

“What about Y/N?” A brief pause followed Inej’s simple question.

After all these hours of planning, you had forgotten to add yourself to the equation. You had been so focussed on giving the two lovebirds some alone time that your absence went completely unnoticed. Both of you felt utterly stupid. How could you have missed that?

“They’ll be my date,” Kaz answered a bit too quickly, not letting the thudding of his heart betray his stone-faced expression.

“My condolences.” Matthias gave you an apologetic but calm look, whilst everyone else in the room seemed to be utterly shocked by their boss’ comment. Even you had to suppress the state of absolute shock that had threatened to spread over your face when he referred to you as his ‘date’. Saints, he himself didn’t believe the words that had just slipped out of his mouth.

“I’ll need someone to chat with the merchant spouses, or else I’ll lose my mind. Their presence can buy me enough time to get the information I need,” he explained, but the majority of his friends were too busy interpreting way too much into this situation to acknowledge his reasoning.

Maybe choosing Jesper as a partner would have been easier on his poor heart.

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Kaz Brekker: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @juneberrie @writingmysanity @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @brekkers-desigirl @fall-writes

[0oolookitsme]

Exhibition Times

Type- One-Shoty Blurb

Verse- Artist!Harry x Housewife + tuition teacher!Y/n

Word Count- 1.4k

Warnings- None! Some slight angst, a very pinch of it!

A/N- Hope you enjoy reading <3

The water ran into the sink, almost more than halfway to filling it up as the dishes slowly got submerged.

A book was placed on the window sill in a standing position. Y/n read from it out loud while brushing her hands through her daughter's curly hair, wishing for it to dry down as fast as it can but that wasn't to say she wasn't enjoying listening to the small puffs of breath her little baby took and the giggles or squeaks she let out every once in a while when Y/n got too good with her storytelling.

"Pooh pulled his hand back out and cheered in amazement" Y/n read, slowly creeping one of her hands out of the girl's hair and reaching for the small ceramic pot in the center of the very table she had been supporting her bottom on.

Still weaving her fingers through her locks, she continued. "His hand was dripping with thick, golden, and oh-so-sweet Honey!" She squeaked, raising her finger dripping with honey in front of the greedy girl's face.

Opal clapped her hands messily while squealing, bouncing on her bum as Y/n let her lick the honey off her finger. "Do you like it?" She asked her, washing her fingertip under the tap water and chuckling when the girl could only confirm by squeaking and nodding.

Y/n dried her hands using the kitchen towel hanging from the handle of the old microwave. Shutting off the tap, she wrapped her arms around the girl's small chubby body. "Let's get you dressed and your hair done, yeah?" She suggested, taking her to the bedroom she and Harry shared; and for now, Opal as well.

Going straight for the bathroom, she made sounds that'd sound creepy to Opal but quickly turned on the lights before she could start wailing.

To say y/n was grateful to Opal for not being fussy today would be an understatement.

Harry had been working on a painting, or should she say many paintings, considering his exhibition was creeping closer and closer and he was a little behind on his schedule. He would come to bed after Y/n was asleep and be out of it before she would wake up- somedays she suspected that he didn't even come to bed.

All he asked for was silence. So they had decided to send Opal to Anne's, let him get in his element, and then bring her back after a few days.

And, she had come back just yesterday. Anne dropped her off as Harry was being too stubborn about getting his work done while he still got the inspo. Y/n worried he wasn't getting enough rest to be energized enough- that he was stretching himself out to his slump or burnout.

She even tried to get him to spend a few hours out of his studio, if not the whole day and that was when Opal came into the play.

Opal was a daddy's girl through and through, and somewhere she had inherited his stubbornness as well. So it wasn't hard for her to convince Harry to take her out to the park or travel with her in the metro for a couple of stations, and come back and let her have a cup ice cream.

It was a much-needed break for y/n, even if it lasted only a couple of hours. Having to handle a growing child alone because your husband needed to isolate a little in order to do his job and bring home money was hard. Especially when the child wouldn't even take a breath without her daddy around. It was like constantly working, she loves her daughter, of course, but there's a reason it takes two people to handle a child.

And on top of that, not being able to spend any time with your husband because he's sure you'd understand was just excruciating.

So, Y/n didn't do anything while the only two loves of her life went outside. She asked Harry to bring home some takeout for dinner and lied down in silence before taking a warm bath. Once dressed, she had her tea in the kitchen while watching nature outside through her window and solving a rubik's cube.

Today she felt perked up- at least not exhausted. Harry too seemed a little relaxed today. He woke up with her, made some tea for both of them before doing his usual routine, and then went back into his studio after pressing a small peck on her lips.

"I love you. And, thank you," he had said, kissing her forehead.

Once she was done finishing Opal's hair, she bounced her pigtails once, telling her how cute she looked. She couldn't help but think about Harry when she had tied his hair in pigtails back when he had grown it out a little in college.

Smiling, she let the girl down and let her walk outside. "Freeze!" She called from behind, laughing when she actually did.

Catching up with her, Y/n quickly picked up the girl, pecking her cheek and placing her on her hip while searching for her clothes with the other hand. "What about this orange one? Looks good?" She asked and pulled it out without ruining the pile, the experience has started showing off lately.

Pulling the green patterned shorts up her legs, Y/n plopped the girl down in her playing space, a carton full of her toys placed in the corner which would surely be empty by the time Y/n'd come back to take the girl for her lunch.

Taking a fist full of almonds out of the water, she made her way to Harry's studio. It was just a small room, but he liked to call it his studio. It was filled with all of his art supplies, journals, a very old sofa, and a stool before a canvas stand.

It was y/n who had put some plants in there, and an earthen pot filled with water to remind him of hydration. "Hi," she greeted softly, happy to see that the windows were open to let in the fresh air.

He smiled back sweetly, perking up his lips for a kiss. His arms remained folded in front of his chest but opened up as soon as she pressed a kiss on the corner of his mouth, inviting her to sit with him for a little.

"How's it going?" she asked, sitting on his lap, facing him but he rotated on his stool so that he was facing away from the canvas and instead, she was facing it.

She gasped in amazement, but Harry only closed his eyes, placing his head in the crook of her neck and pressing a chaste kiss where he could trace a vein.

It wasn't anywhere near complete, but the part that he seemed to be on right now was enchanting already- a threatening night sky. It was covered in black clouds, creating a tense atmosphere. He had painted a full moon in the middle though- the melancholy moonlight spread out more and more as it went lower. Below it everything was black, he hadn't started with that part yet.

"This is ...mesmerizing, H... Dear god, it deserves to end up in the NYC Gallery." She pulled back to look him in the eyes, cupping his warm face. "I'm serious! What if this one becomes your outbreak!?" She exclaimed, not feeling any doubt because she could see he had the same hope in his eyes.

They both knew this one was something entirely different he had ever painted. It was tense, but he has drawn tense before. It was dangerous, threatening almost.

"Where do you plan to go from here on?"

He turned back to face the painting and she got up, sitting on his thigh when he urged her. "I'll paint the perilous rocks known as the Needles of the Isle of Wight, here," he traced the farther part of the canvas, away from the center and front. "Then, a group of fishermen in small boats are in danger at sea- the waves would be crazy," he narrated with suspense while pointing at two spots, both on each side of the center and a little apart from each other. "The warm light of their lamp would be puny against the vast darkness and the cold moonlight," he finished his narration, looking at her to see if she could interpret and picture much.

"Okay... sounds vicious. What do you want the painting to mean- to display?"

"Oh, I've thought about this many times. And, I think I'm pretty sure now," he told her. 'As a potent display of nature, the painting juxtaposes the vulnerability of humankind and the treacherous waves.'" He said, sounding proud and practiced.

"Ooh, sounds like you're telling this to an interviewer," she teased. "Harry Styles, the only 21 years old artist of the famous painting: Fishermen at Sea!" She announced loudly, dropping a few almonds from her fist.

Hii! Hope you liked this! Photo of the painting and the description creds to: website dailyartmagazine.com ! Tagging: @reveriehs <3 MASTERLIST :)