#during the last semester of my senior year of high school

[truecorvid]

i didn't think the leopards would eat my face!!!!!!!!!!!! (all of my professors cancelling classes in solidarity with the student union strike)

[daisynik7]

This is for your y2k!

“Photograph” by Ed Sheeran for Toji Fushiguro - angst

We keep this love in a photograph, we made these memories for ourselves.

Read Part Two - Make You Feel My Love

Pairing: Toji x f!reader

Word Count: ~3.1k

cw: implied family abuse, angst, some fluff, modern day-au, no curses au, a kiss, time skip

Summary: Toji Zenin is scary; he’s the most intimidating boy in your class. When you’re paired with him for a group project, you’re nervous that he’s as bad as he seems. However, you learn that behind that hard exterior is a person yearning just to be normal. 

Author’s Note: The first story for the y2k karaoke party! Inspired by “Photograph” by Ed Sheeran. Thank you @gojoshooter for submitting this song/request! I hope you like this one! Divider created by @/cafekitsune.

You meet Toji in high school, when you’re paired up randomly for a project during your last semester of senior year. He’s a transfer student, having just joined a month ago, introducing himself briefly with a scowl on his face, uninterested in anything. Aside from his obvious stature, the evident scar running across his mouth stands out. Most of your peers avoid him, intimidated by his overwhelming presence. He’s bigger than everyone else, both in height and muscle; he looks like someone you don’t want to mess with. Even teachers do their best to evade him, leaving him to his own devices in the back corner of the classroom. At least he isn’t disruptive; most of the time, he keeps to himself. 

Of course, in a school as small as yours, gossip spreads like wildfire. They say he comes from a prominent family, the “Zenin’s”. You’ve never heard of them; apparently, they are notoriously elitist and filthy rich. So, it surprises you that a son of the Zenin clan would attend a public school like yours rather than a private institution. Maybe he’s different. 

Everyone dreads group projects, let alone randomly assigned group projects. Everyone is on pins and needles, waiting to hear who their partner is. When your name follows his, your heart sinks into your belly. Sighs of relief wash over the rest of your classmates, thankful that they aren’t you. Taking a deep breath, you get up from your seat, slowly walking towards him. When you’re by his desk, he doesn’t look up. You clear your throat to say, “Hello. I guess we’re partners for this project.”

He scoffs, twirling a pen between his fingers, brows furrowed, irritated already. “Great,” he mutters, sarcastically. 

Okay, maybe he’s not different.

~~~

Your teacher calls this project “A Week in the Life”. Basically, you’re tasked to capture your partner’s daily routines throughout the week in the form of photographs. Each student is given a disposable camera, loaded and ready to use. Once developed, you’re supposed to put them together into a collage, decorating it however you desire. A short essay is also required, describing what you will learn about the other person after spending this time with them. You have an entire month to complete everything. Weekdays are repetitive, considering most of the day you’re in school; it’s the afternoons, nights, and weekends that set each person apart from the other.  

“I’m not inviting you into my house,” Toji says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“But that’s part of the project. I’m supposed to see what you do on a daily basis.” You resist the urge to sound equally as annoyed, not wanting to start off on the wrong foot.

He glares at you, hunched over his desk. “I avoid going home as much as possible. That’s what I usually do.”

You swallow hard, unsure how to respond. Eventually, you murmur, “Well then, you can do me first. We’ll just figure yours out later.”

He shrugs, unenthused. “Whatever.”

You pull your phone out of your pocket, sliding it towards him. “Let’s exchange numbers so we can coordinate our schedules. We can start next week.” He doesn’t argue, pushing his cell to you to do the same. 

As planned, the following Monday, Toji begins taking random photos of you during the school day. It starts off in class when he captures you working at your desk. Other students are doing the same, so it isn’t as awkward as you expect it to be. Still, it feels odd being watched by Toji through the lens of the camera.

At lunchtime, he sits with you and your friends in the cafeteria, his big body smushed next to yours as you munch on your meal. You notice that he hasn’t brought anything to eat except for a protein bar and sports drink. Not thinking anything of it, you split your egg salad sandwich into two triangles, handing him one. He glances at it, then at you, confused. “What?”

“Eat it.”

He makes a face, taking it reluctantly, having the audacity to sniff it before taking a bite. When he doesn’t say anything, expression relaxing, you smile to yourself, satisfied. It’s gone two bites later, and from your peripheral, you see him lick the excess off his thumb. Mouth still full, he mumbles a brisk, “Thanks,” snapping his drink open to take a swig. 

After school, you attend a book club meeting that’s hosted every Monday by your friend. Toji snaps a photo of you and your group posing with your book for this month. Before you leave for dinner, a few of the girls whisper to you about how hot he is, how lucky you are to be paired up with such a hunk. How scary he comes off with his scowls and glares. They’re so loud, you’re certain he can hear, but he doesn’t mention anything about it. That is, until you’re alone with him, walking home together. 

“So, do you think I’m scary?” He has his hands in his pockets, looking down at the ground where he walks besides you. 

The question catches you off guard. “Huh?”

“Do you think I’m scary?” he repeats, looking at you now, smirking. 

You grin. “Maybe a little bit at first. Not so much anymore.”

“What changed?”

“I saw you inhale that sandwich. The tough guy act disappeared in that moment.”

“Hey, that thing was tiny. I could have swallowed it in one bite,” he chuckles, kicking a pebble on the ground. “And I’m not putting on a tough guy act. This is just who I am.”

You giggle softly, smiling at him. “Well, I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, Zenin.”

“Toji. Call me Toji.” 

~~~

Dinner with your parents goes by smoothly. You’ve prepared them for this special visitor, urging them to be on their best behavior and not judge a book by his cover. Naturally, your mother is startled when his big frame enters through the doorway, but when he bows to her, introducing himself respectfully, she eases up. After a quick tour of your house, Toji snaps shots of you helping your parents in the kitchen. With the whole spread laid out on the table, he takes another photo before you all gather around to eat. 

Much like earlier in the day, Toji scarfs his meal, mumbling out compliments to the chef. Your parents are thrilled, dropping more servings onto his plate, watching with pride as their cooking is devoured. You can’t help wanting to capture this memory, so you retrieve your own disposable camera from your backpack, taking his picture. He doesn’t seem to mind. 

The two of you eat ice cream sandwiches in your backyard while your parents wash the dishes. The sun is setting, beautiful golden streaks shining from the horizon. Your classmate takes a candid of you sitting on the patio chair, staring at the last moments of daylight. “Do your parents cook like that every day?” he asks, finishing off the last of his dessert.

“Nah, they just wanted to impress you.”

“Well, I am thoroughly impressed. That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

After just one day with him, you feel comfortable enough to ask, hoping that it isn’t crossing the line. “Do you dislike eating at home?”

He doesn’t respond right away, thinking of his answer carefully. “Yeah, I do.”

“Why?”

He smirks, running his thumb along the scar on his lips. “Dinners at my house don’t always end in dessert, if you know what I mean.” 

Your jaw drops, unable to contain your reaction. “You’re saying…”

He leans back into his seat. “Yup. Got a knife thrown at me.”

“What?!” 

Laughing, he nods. “After that, I didn’t like having dinners there.”

You’re tempted to ask for the whole story, but you know it’s pushing it. Instead, you offer, “Well, you’re always welcome here.”

It’s a simple comment. To you, it’s nothing. Maybe it’s because you’re used to offering kindness to others; it’s what you were raised to do. It’s what the people around you do. It’s common. Second-nature, really. 

But as Toji stares at you, wearing an expression you’ve never seen before, one of genuine gratefulness, you realize that to him, it’s not nothing. It’s special. 

Throughout the remainder of the week, Toji spends practically his whole day with you, morning, noon, and night. During this time, you learn that his family is wealthy, though he chose to attend this school on his own will, just to spite them. He considers himself an outcast, the black sheep of the Zenin clan, so much so that he even refuses to associate himself with the family name. And while he’s sure he’s better off away from the snooty rich kids of the school he would have attended, his intimidating appearance and less-than-friendly attitude has made him an outcast amongst your peers. You feel guilty being part of the problem, judging him before getting to know him. He’s actually easy to talk to. It helps that he’s an open book about his personal life. 

Saturday, you plan to go to the aquarium with your family, inviting him to tag along for the project (and for fun). Toji is at your doorstep right on time, dressed in a tight black tee shirt and grey sweatpants, accentuating his chiseled figure. There’s no denying it; he’s very attractive. You’d be lying to yourself if you said it hasn’t crossed your mind. But Toji doesn’t need people to be attracted to him; he needs a friend. And that’s what you’ll be to him. 

It’s a fun day, observing all the fish and aquatic creatures swimming in their tanks. He takes pictures whenever it’s appropriate, covering the flash with his finger as to not disturb any of the animals inside. You eat lunch together in the cafeteria, Toji offering to pay for it as thanks for all the kindness he was shown this week. Near closing time, you take one last stroll through the jellyfish section, marveling at the wonderfully bizarre invertebrates floating in the water. 

“I’ve never been to an aquarium before,” he admits, quietly admiring them beside you. His eyes twinkle with the glow of the iridescent jellyfish swimming in front of him.  

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

You nudge him playfully. “So, what do you think?”

He smiles, rubbing the spot on his arm that you touched. “Better than I expected.”

~~~

The following week is his turn. The closest you get to his mansion of a home is on the outside, not even through the gates. 

“This is for your own good,” he warns, throwing a twig aggressively between the spaces of the iron bars. 

You snap a quick photo with your disposable, not questioning it. When you’re finished, he smirks. “So, ready for some real fun?”

Toji spends his days after school at various locations. Basically everywhere except his own home. The public library, the gym, arcades, shopping malls, cafés, you name it. He’ll eat dinner at whatever restaurant his stomach fancies at the moment: Ramen, Takoyaki, steak, even instant ramen, depending on his mood. And while his life seems fun from the outside, like a kid in a candy store, it’s lonely. Except for when he’s with you.

Saturday is different from the other days. On the weekends, he goes to the beach, bag packed with his favorite books and snacks, ready to relax on the sand with the waves crashing against the shore. He sets up a large umbrella to cover both of you as you settle into the big blanket laid flat. He passes you one of his books, a volume of his favorite manga. The two of you read in a comfortable silence, sharing a bag of chips, fingers brushing against each other’s whenever you reach at the same time. 

Out of the blue, he comments, “This is nice. It’s normal.”

Laughing, you reply, “What do you mean?”

He sets his book down, looking at you. “Nothing about my family is normal. It’s just nice to feel like a human instead of a failure.”

Your eyes widen, uncertain how to respond. Before you can say anything, he murmurs, “Sorry. I didn’t meant to kill the mood.”

You close the manga, smiling gently at him. “Don’t be. I can’t imagine what it’s like. My life is very normal.”

“That’s what I like about you, though.”

Heat rushes into your cheeks at his statement, and maybe it’s your imagination, but you see him blush. You’ve taken enough pictures to complete your project, but there’s still a bit of film left. “Let’s take a picture together,” you suggest, holding the camera in your hand, trying to lighten the mood.

“Seriously? Why?”

“To celebrate being normal, even if it just for a day.”

He grins, scooting closer to you. “Okay.”

You lean against him, both of you smiling, capturing the moment with the click of your finger. 

~~~

Toji doesn’t stop eating lunch with you. Even with your photos at the lab, being developed, he remains by your side, eating the extra sandwich you always pack for him now. Occasionally, he’ll stop by for dinner, always welcomed by your parents. On the other days, you accompany him to whatever restaurant he’s craving. 

When the photos are complete, you pick them up together, not wanting to share them yet, hoping to be surprised on the day they’re displayed in the classroom. At home, you compile the pictures into a stylish collage, decorating the borders with fun stickers, smiling as you gaze at each photo of him. One at the arcade, holding a toy guy in his hands with the high score flashing in the background. Another at the gym, where’s he’s kicking a punching bag, making it look far too easy. Finally, there’s the last photo you took at the beach, the two of you posing for the camera. It’s a cute picture, one that shows two people who live very different lives happily enjoying their time together. You tape it right in the middle. 

When everyone’s posters are hung around the classroom, many people flock to Toji’s, desperate for a glimpse in his mysterious life. Many gawk at the mansion behind the gates, unaware of the dark secrets it holds. The girls ogle the gym picture, while the boys admire it, asking for workout tips. Toji looks pleased with how his collage turns out, especially intrigued by the photo in the center. “You included the one of us, huh?” 

“It’s too cute, isn’t it? I had to include it.”

He smiles at you. “I totally agree.”

He walks you home that afternoon, a usual part of his routine now. Curious, you ask, “So, what did you write about me for your essay?”

“I wrote about how nerdy you are, going to class and willingly going to clubs after school. For fun,” he emphasizes, rolling his eyes, teasing you.

You poke his arm playfully. “And…?”

“I said that you and your family are really nice. And that your parents should be chefs,” he adds, grinning.

You laugh, hooking your arm around his. “That’s more like it.” 

Before you know it, you’re at one of the parks he frequents, sitting side-by-side at his favorite bench. “What did you say? About me?” he asks, staring at his hands in his lap. 

Without thinking, you rest your head on his shoulder. “That you’re not actually scary. You’re just you. And who you are is pretty great. Really great, actually.” 

There’s a pause while he processes what you said. Afraid that it’s too far, you attempt to back away from him, but he catches you first, pulling you in for a kiss. It’s hesitant, like he’s unsure if this is okay. And when you place your hand on his chest, feeling his quickening heartbeat race against your fingertips, the kiss deepens, his lips parting open to slide his tongue inside your mouth. Before it gets any further, he pulls off quickly. Electricity hangs in the air, buzzing on your lips, tingling on every inch of your skin.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, throat heavy. “I shouldn’t have done that. I just thought – ”

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have,” he spits out, jaw clenched, avoiding your gaze. It’s a harsh voice you haven’t heard the entire time since the start of your friendship.

“But I thought you liked – ” 

“You’re wrong. I don’t. I – ,” he swallows, struggling to get the words out. “And I never will.” He stands up, turning his back towards you, leaving you alone with tears streaming down your face, embarrassed, confused, and heartbroken. 

It’s the last time you’ll see of him. He doesn’t come back to class after that incident. Rumor has it that he came in early the next morning to gather all his belongings, which wasn’t much to begin with. There’s more gossip about it, of course, ridiculous chatter. Eventually, they fade, and his name is no longer uttered by anyone, including you. Months pass, and gradually, new memories overtake the old ones. Life goes on without him. You don’t notice the center photo of your collage is gone until you collect it at the end of the schoolyear. 

He’ll never tell you that it’s for your own good. That turning his back on you is the best option to keep you safe. No matter how much he opens up to you, his reality is much worse than you can ever know. Hurting you is his way of protecting you. Because loving you is too dangerous, especially for someone like him.  

~~~

Ten years later, you’re an elementary school teacher in your hometown. You planted yourself right where your roots grew. There is nothing but grand memories in this place you’re lucky to call your home. The only exception is the abandoned plot of land where the Zenin mansion was demolished a few years ago without any explanation. You preserve its memory in the form of a tattered photograph, forgotten somewhere in your closet.

Today, there’s a new student transferring into your kindergarten class; an adorable little boy with jet black hair and long eyelashes named Megumi. He reminds you of someone from your past, someone you kept buried in the back of your mind a while ago, for your own sanity.

Little do you know that on the other side of the door, Toji Fushiguro leans against the wall, listening carefully to your familiar voice introducing yourself to his son. He smiles to himself, the month you shared together all those years ago fondly replaying in fast forward in his mind. He’s no longer a Zenin, unleashed from the cruelty of his ancestry, liberated from the life he was cursed with from birth. Free to love who he wants without fearing that their life is in danger by the hands of his wretched family. 

He sticks his hands in his pocket, fingers brushing along the corners of the withered photo of the two of you smiling at the beach. With a deep breath, he grips the handle of the door, finally ready to face you at long last.

[red-hot-kick]

Theory: Ryuji was popular, before.

I'm not entirely sure if anyone has really talked about this but I maintain my interpretation that, in the canon of Persona 5, Ryuji used to be very (or at least moderately) popular prior to the events of the story.

This is something I've gotten into before when talking to friends who like the game and the character, but I haven't really considered writing it down until now. The main argument I have is based on three things:

Things Ryuji alluded to in canon (but no one believed him on)

The deliberate choice of making him a track athlete

Typecasting for voice actors

1: "There were girls all over me!"

I don't really have the time to go on a deep dive through all the instances in which he hints at his reputation before the Kamoshida incident, but I think the most clear-cut representation of this was during the scene where he and Ann spend the day with Futaba during her post-palace social rehabilitation:

So here's the thing...I don't think he's lying about this. Nobody in the room would be that impressed to find out whether Ryuji was popular since they are already friends (or in Mona's case, he really just doesn't care), so it wouldn't make sense for him to lie.

Regarding everyone's reactions though, here's my impression: Ann was simply not aware of what was going on with the track team, being predominantly focused on dealing with rumors, her friendship with Shiho, and her modeling career (and eventually Kamoshida's advances once he started doing that shit) and she mentions a few times that she and Ryuji weren't actually close before joining the PT; they were just in the same class in middle school. Futaba hasn't interacted with anyone her age in years and isn't the most reliable source when it comes to what people generally find attractive; just because she doesn't have any interest in Ryuji doesn't mean that nobody her age would. And Morgana is a cat that brags constantly about how cool he is, so he shouldn't be throwing rocks.

There are many other times in the game when you get little glimpses of his social savvy, and from my understanding of Royal (I'm an OG vanilla P5 player and haven't done 3rd-semester yet, so don't kill me) when the track team returns to "how it was", he is getting along extremely well with everyone. Not only was he the team's ace: this kid was also expected to become the captain by his senior year (as briefly mentioned when he bumps into his former senpai at the gym, iirc). That's huge! If his team held him in such high regard, then the general student body of Shujin surely had a similar opinion. This brings me to my next point:

2: Girls like boys that run fast(???)

This is honestly something that baffles me. It's also really difficult for me to substantiate; any source material on this is obviously in Japanese and if I could find any of it, I sure as hell can't read it. The only English-language source I know of I cannot find anymore; I think it was an old Tofugu article? However. If you've watched any romance anime set in a high school during the last 20 years, you might have seen this trope at some point: the school sports festival is happening, and the relay race is kind of a huge deal (it's the final event! a make-or-break moment for the class!). The boy thinks to himself "If I win this race, I'll be able to win her heart/ask her out/etc." Low-stakes drama ensues. Maybe a confession happens.

This is (from what I've been told) based on a long-standing trend of girls and women self-reporting in surveys about how, oftentimes, their crushes in junior or senior high school were simply "the boy who ran the fastest in the races". I have no idea what this means in a broader cultural context. It makes no goddamn sense to me at all. Do not cite me on this. But I think it's worth keeping in mind, even if it's almost entirely speculative (and possibly outdated) information. And even if it's just based on rumors, don't you think it's pretty in-character for Ryuji to go for a track scholarship—despite being adept at other sports like baseball and football/soccer, as mentioned in P5 and P5D—because he was aware of the potential of being more popular with girls? Of course, his priority would be getting the scholarship and paying his way through school to lighten his mother's burden, but hey, getting a girlfriend on the way up wouldn't be half bad!

I think this could also inform us as to why Kamoshida (as a predator who wanted attention from high school girls) felt so threatened by the track team in particular, and why he felt a need to specifically knock Ryuji down a peg and sought out a weakness to do so (as opposed to targeting any of the probably just-as-popular boys on the many other athletic teams and clubs in the school). Just some food for thought on this one! Also, if anyone can find a source or has any insight on the relay race thing, please share. I am so confused about it.

3: Typecasting

So this is something that you really only notice if you are very into keeping up with seiyuu in Japan. I am not one of those people. But I do have some favorite voice actors! One of these being Mamoru Miyano.

So I freakin' love this dude. He's voiced a lot of my favorite characters, sings incredibly well, and has an unreal sense of comedy. He's stated in interviews that his acting inspiration is Jim Carrey, and let me tell you: it shows. He is also quite consistently typecast into certain roles, predominantly as princely pretty-boy types, Coolguys, or complete fucking nutcases. Sometimes all three at the same time (shoutout to my boy Ling FMA!)

ATLUS definitely cast him for P5 because of his comedic chops. But I think they also cast him because having him voice someone like Ryuji is a great way to subvert expectations for the player. I think it's supposed to give you whiplash—"what do you mean the voice of LIGHT FUCKING YAGAMI is coming out of this guy's mouth?" "why does the delinquent character sound like king of the host club Tamaki Suou?" "isn't that Rin Matsuoka's voice?" etc. etc. etc.

(here's a quick list, just to really get the idea across. maybe you recognize a few.)

This is obviously a non-comprehensive list, but something that a lot of the characters he's voiced over the years have in common is that they were considered cool, handsome, or popular. Not just for fans, but within the canon of their stories! So...what does that mean? What does that say about how we should see Ryuji?

I think players are supposed to expect that he will fall into one of those categories too, and then be surprised to find that it's not the case—that he's been isolated and made bitter and resigned by what happened to him the year before.

Speaking of his tone, I think it's very telling that Ryuji actually forgets to keep up the delinquent act a lot in the original JP audio, which unfortunately doesn't really carry over in the ENG translation. The delivery of his JP lines sounds a bit more subdued in comparison too—yeah he's got a lot of energy and is very hotheaded, but when he gets to talking about serious shit, he sounds a lot more regretful and melancholy as opposed to the EN delivery which depicts him as more resentful and outwardly angry. I think before Shit Went Down, he probably had the Coolguy vibe. Still a bit of a rowdy idiot and a showoff, but I think he probably came across to most people as a very friendly, sincere, and popular guy.

So yeah, the girls probably were all over him, at least for a short while.

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

KINDRED — 33

It’s your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor can’t seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academy’s top student, their star athlete and put them in front of a camera?

smau + written (5.1k words 💀)

❥･• episode 33 — the bane of my existence

The ceiling of your room is adorned with handwritten notes of keywords you were supposed to memorise for your mid-terms. The notes are large enough for you to easily read them, especially as you lie flat on your back on the bed, as you are now. Throughout the term, you had gradually covered the ceiling with these notes, dedicating the last two weeks before the exam to repeating them over and over again in your head as you drifted off to sleep.

Despite the exams being over, you have yet to take them down to be replaced by new notes you’d be curating for the new term. With nothing but time, you find yourself spending hours staring at the section dedicated to your English Literature notes, wondering why you never noticed it. You can't help but reflect on the 30 minutes before bed that you could have spent memorising the highlighted words. Perhaps then, you wouldn't have fumbled so hard in the vocabulary section, and you wouldn't be in your current predicament—separated from your friends, from Jungwon, forced to skip your own farewell party, and school itself.

You never expected your mother to willingly let you stay home, especially during your final semester at Decelis Academy. You thought she'd prefer you practically living in school. On what grounds did she choose to ground you? Because you ended up second on the scoreboard? That’s bullshit.

As a matter of fact, it seems counterintuitive for her to keep you at home for self-study as a disciplinary action. The situation is baffling to you—as a senior in high school with less than three months left until finals, it doesn't make sense that you're wasting time at home instead of being in school.

In truth, your mother is perplexed, even a bit terrified. But what exactly is she terrified of?

Change, that’s what.

Changes that manifested after Jungwon came into your life. How, instead of returning home late from the library after a long revision session, you now return late after spending the entire day with him. He’s a constant presence; waiting at your gateway, observing as you consciously stroll down the gravel to your doorstep, turning back to thank him for walking you home and bidding him goodbye.

Moreover, you divert your attention from your own studies, putting in extra effort to tutor him so he could compete in his upcoming competition. Instead of sharing the events of your day with your mother, you find yourself engrossed in texting him at the dinner table—something you’ve never dared to do before. She would nag at you over the smallest details, and you no longer quietly listen even if you are in the right, but rather engage by talking back, defending, or justifying yourself.

As a consequence, you've shifted from being at the top of the pyramid to now occupying the second position, trailing behind a library secretary. Yet, it seems like these changes haven't affected you in the slightest.

It feels as though you are finally managing to form your own opinions and make your own decisions. It's as if you no longer need her.

These changes, this departure from the routine she had come to expect, terrifies your mother. The fear of losing the daughter she thought she knew, the fear of a new chapter that doesn’t align with the plans she had envisioned, leaves her bewildered and uneasy.

When she looks at you, she sees a reflection of herself from years ago when she was a student. She recalls the time she met your father, fell in love, and sacrificed her dreams to follow his path and have you, only for him to later abandon both of you to pursue his own endeavours.

So, the mere thought of you, broken and lonely after what she assumes will be Jungwon eventually leaving you, intensifies her hatred for him. The déjà vu becomes too real, and she firmly believes she's doing what's best for you, even if you end up resenting her for it.

At some point, you started living your life for your mother rather than yourself, and you're aware of this subconsciously—the paradox of being both the subject and object in her pursuit of validation. Even then, it’s hard to let go of everything you once believed in altogether.

No, rather, you want to believe it's true. You want to believe your mother is right, and the status quo she has set for you is genuinely for the best:

Your goal is to enter an elite local university.

You aspire to be a doctor.

Mother is not controlling.

You don't need a man to validate your worth.

Which seem rather ironic as you contemplate how, essentially, you are a pawn in your mother’s subconscious quest to prove your father wrong about her. Her motives, however well-intentioned, have inadvertently moulded your path.

It's a narrative in which she’s determined to show that even in his absence, your mother is fully capable of nurturing a child, specifically her child. The belief embedded in her actions is that one day, you will emerge successful, surpassing what she might have achieved had she chosen to pursue her own dreams back then. This belief, however, unravels into a conundrum because, if your mother could turn back time and choose a different path, you wouldn’t be here.

As these thoughts weigh heavily on your mind, you find yourself truly overthinking it. You sit up on the bed, your body leaning against the frame, and your surroundings seem to echo with the gravity of your contemplation.

It's barely past 10 in the morning, and you can't help but wonder about the mundane yet comforting routines of your friends. Beomgyu is probably relieved that Chemistry is over, recalling him perpetually complaining about having the subject for their first period. Chanelle and Yunjin are likely engaged in their usual ritual of placing bets on the lunch menu. Gyuvin is probably sleeping again, and Riki is likely disturbing some poor kid by launching staple bullets from the back of the room.

And then there's Jungwon, perhaps experiencing a quiet sense of relief at your absence, no longer subjected to reminders to pay attention or being shaken awake just as he teeters on the edge of drifting off into dreamland. The vivid details of their potential activities form a contrast to the complex musings clouding your thoughts.

The room, once a sanctuary, now bears the weight of aching tensions. With a sigh, you rise from your bed, a restless energy propelling you forward. Just then, you hear a slight knock against your window.

Wait, your room is on the second floor; what could be banging against it?

Tok. There it is again. The sound echoes throughout your room. You approach the window ledge with apprehension, visibly flinching as a small rock flies towards you, knocking against the glass that separates you from the tiny projectile.

Determined to catch who is disturbing your peace on this calm Friday morning, you march up to your window frame, planning to give whoever it is a piece of your mind. Your gaze follows the direction from where the stone came, and to your surprise, you see Jungwon excitedly waving towards you from behind the giant tree in your front yard.

As you open the window, the sounds and sights of the outside world flood in. The pre-winter morning sun casts a warm glow on the scene, highlighting the details of the landscape outside. The gentle rustle of leaves, distant chirping of birds, and the distant hum of the town come together in a natural symphony of morning sounds. The tranquil scene outside your room stands in opposition to the turmoil within, amplifying the surreal nature of the moment. It's really him.

"Hey! Sorry for the wake-up call. Come on down; I wanna bring you somewhere.” Jungwon’s voice rises above the ambient noise.

“What are you doing here?! Aren’t you supposed to be in school right now?” You attempt to raise your voice just enough, afraid that your mother would overhear.

“I was, until I realised how boring it is without you nagging at me every five seconds. So, I thought I'd bring a little adventure to your day.” The spontaneity of the gesture catches you off guard, momentarily eclipsing the complexities of your internal monologues.

Being deprived of any form of human interaction left you craving, and for a second, you almost accept his proposal without thinking.

“I can’t leave, Won. I’m grounded; my mom is going to kill me if she finds out.”

"Then we'll make sure she doesn't. You'll be back before you even know it, Y/N." The idea is tempting, yes, but you are also unsure if you are ready to face the consequences if, for some reason, things do not go the way you want them to (as always).

"I skipped class for this. I think it shows how much I really miss spending time with you, Y/N."

"As if you never skipped class before we started filming for the documentary." Jungwon sheepishly smiles and subconsciously rubs the back of his neck. The memories of those carefree days filming the documentary flood back, adding a nostalgic touch to the present moment.

You were about to decline for the second time when he skilfully pulls out those cat eyes that you dearly admired. Those captivating eyes that Jungwon knows you can never say "no" to. It's the only efficient method he remembers using to convince you to watch a movie with him everytime he wanted to get out of your long study sessions.

And he's right; those cat eyes works like a damn charm. Because you are now desperately climbing out your window, clinging for dear life against the rusty pipes. As you navigate the unconventional escape route, Jungwon tries hard to suppress his laughter, not wanting to discourage you.

As your feet touch the ground, you become acutely aware of the brisk chill in the air, a stark contrast to the period spent locked up in your makeshift jail cell. Only when you stand before the boy do you fully realise how cold the weather has gotten since the last time you saw him. And unlike Jungwon, who is covered from head to toe, you find yourself in just trousers and an oversized t-shirt.

Promptly, he detects the tiny hairs on your arms standing, and without a moment's hesitation, Jungwon removes his padded jacket, swirling it around your shoulders, instantly enveloping you in warmth.

But It's not just the jacket; it's the proximity of Jungwon that warms you up, his closeness palpable as he adjusts the padding to sit perfectly on the blades of your shoulders. You can practically feel his breath on your neck as he fusses with the collar.

As he fidgets with the article of clothing, Jungwon's actions appear purposeful, yet in reality, he is merely using it as an excuse to draw even closer to you. But he’s not the only one taking advantage of the moment, though, as you seize the opportunity to embrace him. Your arms winding around his waist beneath his uniform blazer and you softly whisper a grateful "Thank you," eliciting a subtle shiver that courses down his spine.

"For what? I’m only lending it to you, you already have a few of my hoodies stocked up. Which reminds me, when are you returning them?" You pinch his sides playfully, and he flinches, the playful exchange bringing the two of you even closer. As if there were any more space between you in the first place.

“I’ll return them back to you, soon. But that’s not what I was referring to.”

“Then, you’re grateful for… making you climb down some rusty-ass pipes?”

"No, you idiot. Thank you for coming to see me. I missed you, really, more than you think. You have no idea how close I was to just running over to you.” The emotions from having the opportunities to spend time with the boy ripped away from you must have been stronger than you thought for those words to come out of you like that. Jungwon senses this, and you feel him tighten around the frame of your body.

"Then, it’s a good thing that I ran over here first.”Jungwon gently pushes you away with a heavy heart. Moving away the few strands of hair stuck onto your cheeks that are turning a shade of rosy pink, most likely from the cold (or not).

The pace picks up again as he locates the palm of your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours,“Let's get out of here before your mom finds us." Luckily for the two of you, you manage to get away with your secret rendezvous, at least for now, and you can only pray that it stays this way.

The world beyond your little bubble beckons, but in this moment, the connection between you and Jungwon feels like the only reality that matters.

Time with Jungwon feels like a pocket universe where seconds slip away unnoticed. Before you know it, the sun slowly begins to dip beyond the horizon, ushering in the cool embrace of the evening air and casting a gentle twilight glow upon the buildings.

The Friday night air is crisp, and the streets come alive with the vibrant energy of the neighbourhood transitioning into its nocturnal rhythm. Jungwon confidently navigates through hidden shortcuts and familiar alleys, the lively sounds of people and distant music replacing the lingering heaviness from your room.

As you walk leisurely through the dimly lit streets, Jungwon animatedly shares anecdotes, laughter, and stories of incidents that unfolded in school during your absence. The glow of street lamps casts a warm ambiance, highlighting the joy in his eyes as he recounts the tales. You are not only relieved to hear that your friends are working hard, but also reassured that the council is thriving under Gunwook's leadership—a responsibility you earnestly insisted on passing down to him.

Eventually, you find yourselves at a serene bench overlooking the river. In the distance, you spot couples on little boats doing whatever couples do on little boats. The two of you sit in a contemplative silence, not awkward, but a kind of loud silence filled with unspoken words—where there is so much to say, but neither of you knows where to start.

Breaking the quietude, Jungwon eagerly rummages through his bag. Curious, you sneak a peek, and a soft giggle escapes your lips at the unconventional contents within. Instead of the expected textbooks, you see a stash of your favourite gummies and an abundance of pencils, which explains why he always has spares on hand whenever you ask for one.

You also spot your fall gloves that you had momentarily forgotten about until now. You recall leaving them with him when it got too uncomfortable for you to wear, and the memory of him playfully nagging you to put them back on, complete with a cute pout when you refused, brings a fond smile to your face.

It’s a touching realisation when you see these tangible tokens. It’s as if little bits and pieces of you and your habits are slowly finding a place in Jungwon’s life. His world, once dominated by Taekwondo, effortlessly accommodates you and the fragments of your existence, just as he seamlessly wove himself into the fabric of your life, which was once burdened with the heavy expectations of achieving stellar grades.

“People might think this is my bag that you’re carrying,” you remark, your tone playful.

"With the amount of things that are yours in here, it might as well be," Jungwon replies, laughter dancing in his warm gaze. He pulls out a hot pack, rubs it between his hands, and extends it to you—another subtle gesture that unleashes an entire zoo inside your stomach. The gentle warmth of the hot pack mirrors the blossoming warmth within as you mumble a quiet “Thank you”.

"Can't believe we'll be graduating soon; it still hasn't hit me just yet," Jungwon says, his voice carrying a tinge of absentminded reflection.

"Believe it or not, sooner or later, reality will come crashing down on you like a meteorite," you jest, attempting to lighten the sudden solemnity of the mood that has settled between you.

"Yeah, then you'll be off to a great local uni, and I'll probably get into the youth Olympics team. Who knows when our paths will cross again?" You turn to look at him, finding his gaze locked onto the calm waters of the river, though you suspect his mind must be anything but calm, straying far from the placid surface of the water.

"I thought we agreed to remain close even after the documentary? You're speaking as if we'll never see each other again," you remark, shuffling closer to him on the bench. The fluttering of your heart intensifies as the skin of your arms comes into contact with his. The connection between you, both physical and emotional, echoes the desire to linger in each other's presence despite the uncertain paths that lie ahead.

"At first, it really was a nightmare having to be around you everywhere," he confesses, leaning forward, his fingers lightly gripping the edge of the bench as he reflects. A tiny pout forms on his thinking face, and you can't help but coo at the endearing sight—a habit you discovered and cherished as you got to know him.

"I don't know if I should be finding that offensive or not," you retort and Jungwon laughs lowly, the husky tone of his voice sending subtle shivers down the back of your neck. "That's why I used 'at first,' idiot."

"But now, I guess it's not that bad to have you around sometimes," he shrugs, attempting to play it cool while ignoring the fact that his heart is pounding relentlessly against his chest.

"Only 'not that bad'? I'm disappointed," you tease, a mischievous sparkle in your eye.

The night envelops both of you in a quiet embrace, the air thick with unexpressed emotions. Jungwon's eyes, once fixed on the distant river, now meet yours. Only this time, there's a vulnerability in his gaze, a silent admission of something more complicated.

"You know," he begins, his voice softer now, carrying a weight of sincerity, "it took me a while to figure out why your presence felt like a storm at first—chaotic and unpredictable. But now, I realise it's more like the calm after the storm. The kind that leaves everything refreshed and new."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the gravity of his confession sinking in. The atmosphere seems to hold its breath, each passing moment brimming with anticipation as you almost impatiently wait for him to phrase his next words, watching the thoughts flicker across his face as he carefully composed the sentiments in his mind.

"I never expected you to become this important to me," Jungwon continues, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions. "But now, imagining my life without you feels like trying to picture a world without sunlight. It's just not the same."

A warm breeze rustles the leaves above, and if there were some stranger watching you right now, you probably wouldn’t even have noticed as you slowly tuned the world around you out. On the contrary, you're acutely aware of the shared space between you on the bench, the closeness that has become second nature.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I like having you around. A lot more than 'not that bad,'" he confesses, a shy smile playing on his lips.

Your heart swells with a rush of emotions, and you sense the urgency to respond. "Jungwon, I—" But before you can complete your response, his fingers gently find their way to yours, intertwining them in a silent gesture, as if he's saying you don't owe him anything.

But no, you do owe him everything. You owe him for coming into your mundane excuse of a life and allowing you to realise that sometimes, breaking away from routine is the first step towards discovering your own narrative.

Thus, a smile mirrors his on your face as you say, “I can’t let you say all the cool things yourself. I wanna be cool too.” Jungwon scoffs and you feel his grip on your hand tighten.

"Go on, I'd like to see you try," he challenges, a subtle glint of encouragement in his gaze, knowing you're not one to shy away.

Taking in a deep breath, you confidently look into his eyes as you say what has been on your mind. “Thank you for changing my life, and I don’t ever want to lose you, Yang Jungwon.”

As the echoes of your confession linger in the night air, both of you become aware of the tangible shift in the atmosphere—something profound has unfolded between you. The moonlight paints a soft glow on Jungwon's face, emphasising the earnestness in his eyes, as they remain locked onto yours. The touch of his fingers on yours warms up your skin, a comforting sensation that surpasses any heat pack he could ever give you.

“Okay maybe that wasn’t very cool after all… I just never thought a simple change in routine could lead to all this." You muse, your voice carrying a mixture of awe and gratitude.

"Life has a funny way of surprising us, doesn't it?" Jungwon responds with a playful twinkle in his eyes.

You nod, smiling genuinely. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

As you sit on the bench, hands still entwined, there's a gentle pause—a moment suspended in time, as if the universe itself is waiting. The world around you, once ordinary, now feels touched by a magical essence, and the stars above seem to glitter with the promise of a future written in a language only both of you understand.

Jungwon leans in, and you can feel the beating of his heart aligning with yours, the soft warmth of his breath as he closes the gap between you. The scent of the night air, infused with a hint of his cologne, adds to the sensory symphony. His lips meet yours in a tender, unhurried motion. It’s a kiss that carries the weight of the world’s expectations on the both of you, only for it to melt away as he smiles against your lips.

Time seems to stand still as you savour the softness of the moment, the warmth of his touch resonating through every fibre of your being. As you sit there, wrapped in the warmth of his lips on yours, the world feels limitless, and the journey ahead, uncertain but exciting. And as you break apart, breathless but filled with an exhilarating warmth, that’s when you realise you have finally come to terms with and chosen to accept your emotions that are now clear to you that it is not borne alone—Yang Jungwon, who was once the bane of your existence, is now the centre of it.

tw! depiction of violence

You smile to yourself as the sweet memory of that magical first kiss plays in your mind like a cherished melody. Your hands remain interlocked with that of Jungwon’s as you walk through the same alley that you came from. The difference being the absence of the vibrant lights of the night market, which had already faded by now, leaving only the soft glow of the moon and the distant street lamps that barely bleed into the alley to guide your way. Yet, you feel safe and protected when you sense Jungwon’s presence beside you.

As you turn a corner, the alley widens, revealing a quieter stretch with fewer distractions. However, just as you start to relax, a familiar voice cuts through the tranquillity.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Y/N. Didn't think we'd run into you two lovebirds tonight. How cute.” Hana's voice, laced with envy, echoes through the alley. She steps into view, flanked by her two loyal lackeys who wear matching smirks.

However, they were not alone as you spot a few familiar faces perched up against the brick wall—they were the same group of boys known to wreak havoc among the underclassmen. You know this having seen their faces in detention multiple times when you were supervising.

You didn’t expect Hana to be hanging around them, it’s like trouble mixing around with even more trouble, a recipe for disaster.

In the dimly lit alley, tension hangs thick in the air as Hana and her lackeys close in, their predatory grins revealing a hunger for confrontation. Jungwon instinctively tightens his grip on your hand, pulling you behind him as he stands his ground, a subtle signal that he's prepared for whatever comes next.

Hana takes a step forward, her voice dripping with malice. “It’s unfortunate really. You skipped a whole week of school; I thought I finally managed to get rid of you, but alas.” Her lackeys snicker, emboldened by their leader's confidence.

You square your shoulders, determined not to let Hana's provocation rattle you. “What’s your problem, Hana?”

Hana's eyes narrow, her jealousy fuelling the fire. "My problem? It's you, Y/N. Always meddling where you don't belong."

In disbelief, you step out of Jungwon’s shadow. “You know what, fuck you. I don’t even remember ever offending you. I also had a really shitty week, and I don’t need you making it worse than it already is, so please just get the fuck out of my face.” The words fly out of your mouth before you can even comprehend, and Jungwon seems to be equally shocked, hearing you curse for the first time. The shock quickly turns into admiration as he smirks at your bold proclamation.

"We're not looking for trouble, Hana. Just let us pass," Jungwon says cautiously, not wanting to provoke Hana any further, but it only seems to rile her up even more.

Hana's frustration mounts, and she takes a step closer to you, invading your personal space. "You think you're so special, Y/N? Jungwon can do so much better than someone like you." The words sting, but you refuse to let her get under your skin. Before you can respond, one of her lackeys makes a move, attempting to grab your arm. Instinctively, Jungwon steps between you and the aggressor, blocking the advance.

Despite their attempts to provoke a reaction, Jungwon remains composed, his experience evidently shining through. The underclassmen, however, aren't as restrained. One of them lunges at Jungwon, but he swiftly sidesteps the attack, using his fast reflexes to evade without retaliating.

However, the group, instigated by their leader's resentment, launch a coordinated attack. One of them goes straight for Jungwon, aiming for his lower abdomen. Despite his fast reflexes, the underclassman manages to land a blow, catching Jungwon off guard.

A sharp pain courses through Jungwon's side as he winces, the surprise attack taking its toll. He stumbles backward, trying to maintain his composure. The underclassmen, emboldened by their success, taunts him. "Looks like your taekwondo skills don't mean much in a real fight, huh?"

You, torn between defending Jungwon and avoiding further escalation, plead with Hana. "This is unnecessary, Hana! We don't want to fight!"

Hana, however, revels in the chaos she's created. This is her way of saying that if she can’t have Jungwon, nobody can—much less lose him to the likes of you.

"You should have thought about that before getting involved with Jungwon." In truth, she never truly liked Jungwon. Just his reputation and the attention she’d get if she managed to crack the academy’s most mysterious boy. Enraged, Hana signals them to continue, escalating the confrontation.

Jungwon, though injured, refuses to retaliate recklessly; something about physical fighting one against a whole group of well-fit boys with a sport designed for self-defense doesn’t seem very smart. Instead, he focuses on defending their attacks, hands wrapped tightly over his head, as he lay cradled on the ground. His determination remains unwavering, but the odds are stacked against him.

The underclassmen, seemingly relentless, taunt Jungwon with malicious glee. "Thought you were tough, huh? Looks like you're nothing even with your precious taekwondo skills."

He shouts for you to run (as if you were about to leave him behind) but you’re forced onto your knees and held in place by her two lackeys. As the scuffle intensifies, the alley echoes with grunts and the shuffle of feet.

The chaos attracts attention, and the distant wail of approaching police sirens grows louder. The approaching alarm prompts Hana and her lackeys to scatter, disappearing into the shadows, leaving behind a battered, bruised and disoriented Jungwon.

As the police car arrives, its flashing lights casting an unsettling glow, you find yourself cradling Jungwon, who is visibly struggling.

“Please tell me you’re okay, Won.” Urgently, you call for an ambulance, realising the severity of his injuries when he could barely reply you.

The journey to the hospital is filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the wail of sirens. Jungwon, laid out on the gurney, appears vulnerable under the harsh hospital lights. His eyes meet yours, conveying gratitude and reassurance amidst the pain. As Jungwon is wheeled into a room for further evaluation, you can't help but reflect on the unexpected turn the night has taken—from stolen kisses to the harsh reality of a hospital emergency room, a scenario straight out of a drama.

The hospital transforms into a surreal space where time seems to both stretch and contract, leaving you suspended in uncertainty. Every passing minute feels like an eternity as you anxiously await any updates on Jungwon's condition.

Your friends, Jungwon’s family, and even his coach start to arrive, having informed them about his condition through Jungwon’s phone that you somehow remembered the passcode to from the last time he told you. The reunion with your friends, especially Chanelle, who runs up to engulf you in a hug, brings a fleeting moment of joy. However, the thought of Jungwon lingers, casting a shadow over the otherwise happy encounter.

Finally, a doctor emerges with updates. Jungwon's injuries are serious, though not life-threatening, requires thorough treatment and a period of recovery. Hearing the news, relief washes over you knowing he will receive the care and medicine he needs. However, your relief is short-lived as the reminder of his upcoming competition the following Saturday floods you with renewed stress.

How can he possibly compete in his current condition? The thought of him being covered in bruises, or worse, questioning if he can even participate at all, weighs heavily on your mind.

The national team coach is going to be there, and Jungwon's entire future hinges on him performing well in that godforsaken competition he worked so hard to compete in.

The unfairness of the situation becomes glaringly evident, casting a shadow over the initial relief. The stress that momentarily lifted now returns with even greater intensity, leaving you grappling with the looming uncertainty of Jungwon's athletic future, and maybe even your own.

prev | masterlist | next

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: feels like i just wrote a kdrama… as usual i cba to proofread so i apologise yall 🥲

perm taglist. @hajimelvr @s00buwu @urmomssneakylink @grayscorner @bubblytaetae @mrchweeee @artstaeh @sleeping-demons @yuviqik @junsflow @blurryriki @bobabunhee

taglist open! @uuzhanggggggg @jayhoonvroom @en-flirt @missingemobeomgyu @jiawji @ocyeanicc @s7noo @asterizee @nwjws @noascats @yunwonie @saturnmooonxx @enhaz1 @jiaant11 @clairecottenheart @i2lain @miumiuoi @zhounauts @hoey2k @neocockthotology @nanuer @yenqa @ahnneyong @chanhee-hee @yanqiiuver @yujmelon @beomsbeanie @sloobydooburmomjungwon @keiisu @jaeyunniesimp @jiamini @jihanniee @lilriswife4life @i-yeseo

*white = cannot tag

[minnieminshi]

Sporteen Masterlist

Welcome to what I call my chronic brainrot and where I start to accept the fact that I might actually like watching sports even tho I spent most of my childhood saying I hate sports lol 

This is the first series I’ve done and I’m also a first year uni student so I make no promises on how frequent I can update this but I do wanna try to get them done at least by when my semester ends in like April

Also some of the stories are linked as since some of the guys are on the same team/sport

Choi Seungcheol: Pucking Chemistry

Summary: You never should’ve agreed to tutor the captain of the hockey team. Who shows up a full hour after the agreed meeting time? Choi Seungcheol, apparently as you’ve come to learn. And now you’re stuck tutoring him because for some reason, you're his last hope to pass chemistry so he’s eligible to play in an upcoming tournament. 

Warnings: cursing because I can’t help myself lol, mentions of your father abandoning the family 

Extra info: high school setting, Cheol uses the term "princess" a lot and I'm a sucker for calling people by their last name, mentions of Monsta X’s I.M (aka Changkyun) and Kard’s Somin (but she gets mentioned like once lol), your little brother’s name never gets mentioned but you do call him Frosty lol, and my knowledge of hockey is limited to watching Dr. Mike on yt talk about hockey injuries so there’s not a whole lot of hockey action in this fic lmao. On a personal note, this fic made my realize my little brother is turning 13 this year and I can’t handle that because what do you mean he’s a teen now he literally turned one the other day and I think that shows in this fic lol

Release: 2/24 Read Here

Word count: 9.9K

Yoon Jeonghan:  Maybe Romeo and Juliet Were Onto Something

Summary: When you agreed to help your dad with coaching his soccer team, you expected to help with writing down prs and handing out water bottles in return for free tickets and an excuse to be out of your dorm. What you didn’t expect to happen was falling for the charming co-captain of his soccer team. So do you take your shot with co-captain or do you heed your dad’s one and only rule of absolutely no dating his players? 

Warnings: cursing since that’s gonna be pretty much a staple in my writing lol, arguments with a parent 

Extra info: uni setting, so originally Jeonghan was gonna be a basketball player but then I remembered I hate basketball due to getting hit in the face and breaking my glasses on my birthday during practice… Plus I saw a tiktok of svt playing sports and Jeonghan was playing soccer and the gears started turning in my head lol 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Hong (Jisoo) Joshua:  It’s a Win-Win! Right?

Summary: Agreeing to fake date your best friend definitely wasn’t on your schedule when you dropped by after Joshua’s swim practice after your student council meeting had ended. But with his oddly passionate fangirls, you suppose this was more for his comfort than anything else. And hey, you could also use this to get your vice president to stop hitting on you as well, so it's a win-win for everyone. Plus it’s not like you’d be met with the realization that you might be in love with your best friend, that’s crazy…

Warnings: cursing because I can’t help myself lol, and crazy fangirls 

Extra info: high school setting, I got a confession… I don’t actually know how to swim lmaoo I just never learned so I apologize for the lack of actual swimming lol and Joshua is definitely inspired by Oikawa from Haikyuu in the sense of his fangirls lol and I guarantee there’s at least 50 fake dating Oikawa fics so here’s my spin on that with Joshua lol. I was also half tempted to make Joshua like one of my friends, who, for some reason decided our senior year to join our school’s swim team that I didn’t even know we had lol while he was on the varsity soccer team but I decided against it for simplicity lmao 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Wen Junhui: Racing Hearts and Skating to Love

Summary: Getting the chance to perform at an end of year celebration? Amazing! Having to perform a paired performance with Wen Junhui? Not amazing! Don’t get it twisted! You don’t hate Junhui, in fact it’s the opposite. You’ve been silently crushing on your fellow skater for months, and now you’re going to have to create and perform a paired program with him. Which of course meant having to spend weeks with him, and getting close to him to actually practice. But you can do this, it’s only for a few weeks, your heart can handle it. Hopefully it can, at least.

Warnings: cursing because I can’t help myself lol

Extra info: it’s never mentioned but it’s a uni au lol, reader wears contacts and glasses because I do too and I love Wen Junhui so next question lol and literally all my knowledge of ice skating comes from the time I was obsessed with Yuzuru Hanyu like a year or two ago so I apologize for the inaccuracies of the sport lol

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Kwon Soonyoung:  Goal- Wait Watch Out!

Summary: Meet cute except it’s not cute and you probably have a concussion from the rogue soccer ball to the head. All you were trying to do was drop off your roommate's lunch since she forgot in the morning and now you’re being carried by a concerned goalie and your roommate treating you like one of her athletes. At least the goalie carrying you is cute? 

Warnings: cursing since I can’t help myself, and of course injuries (a concussion) since that’s the plot lol 

Extra info: uni setting, my knowledge is very limited on soccer and all that I do know comes from when my librarian would let me stay in the library while the cup was going on last year instead of making me go do errands for the teachers during my student aide period lol and putting Hoshi as goalie is most definitely brought on by Jeonghan’s monthly meeting pics of him as the goalie lol

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Jeon Wonwoo: Scheming Love 

Summary: When your coach told your team that you guys would play a skirmish against the boys volleyball team for fun, you felt your heart freeze. Now you weren’t scared of the boys team, you believe your team is fully capable of beating them in a game. No, what scares you is the fact that it means you have to play against Jeon Wonwoo, one of the middle blockers on the team. And your longtime crush. Normally you’re confident as a libero, doing your best to make sure your team’s defense’s on top and making sure the ball doesn’t touch the ground, but with Wonwoo on the court at the same time? Maybe you should start apologizing to your team now. Wait, why did they have a team huddle while you were helping the manager bring the water bottles? And why are they smiling at you like they’ve just made the greatest plan in the history of the world? 

Warnings: cursing as usual, and threatening to strangle someone (as a joke lol) 

Extra info: high school setting, reader wears glasses because I do too and I love Wonwoo lol. One of two fics that are fueled by my Haikyuu brainrot that’s coming back thanks to the movies and the new content that’s been coming out recently. Wonwoo as a middle blocker is brought on by this twitter artist that’s drawn Tsukishima in some Wonwoo stage outfits and that has caused me great pain I eat it up every time and reader being a libero is because that’s my favorite position lol 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Lee Jihoon: Wait Where Are You Going? Come Back!

Summary: You really didn’t plan to watch your university’s baseball team play today, especially since it was so hot out and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky to provide some shade to hide under. But alas, your best friend insisted on dragging you along, wanting to watch her boyfriend play. Sure that’s fine and dandy, but why drag you along? At least the catcher’s cute, or what you can see of him on account of his mask. Wow, he's really muscular and is he giving Seokmin signs on how to pitch- wait why is your best friend and her boyfriend pushing the two of you after the game is over? And why are they running away? Oh, she’s gonna pay for this once you get through his conversation with the cute catcher. 

Warnings: cursing as usual, and betrayal from your best friend and Seokmin lol 

Extra info: uni setting, I’m like 85% sure Woozi said he used to play as catcher when he played baseball so that’s why he has this position. I don’t know anything about baseball besides one man named Shohei Ohtani and that getting hit with the ball hurts like hell (and all the injuries Dr. Mike on yt covered lol) 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Lee Seokmin: Breaking News! Falling in Love is Scary!  

Summary: Being part of your university’s blog and radio show is great, until you’re being forced out of the studio/office and out in the open to go interview the baseball team after a recent winning streak. Normally this job would get assigned to another team member, but after a recent bout of frat flu ravaging your crew, the interview is left up to you. Whatever, just get the answers to the prewritten questions you have and the sooner you can go back to the studio/office to work on other things. Or that was the plan before the pitcher, Lee Seokmin, took an interest in you and suddenly seemed to pop up everywhere around campus. Or aka, grumpy reporter x sunshine baseball player. 

Warnings: cursing as per usual, and you being a hater for no reason lol 

Extra info: uni setting, I don’t know much about baseball other than the fact that I would kill to see DK in a baseball uniform 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Kim Mingyu: Red Bandage of Fate  

Summary: When you joined the athletic team as a student trainer and got assigned to the university’s soccer team, you wondered if the team’s number 06, Kim Mingyu, the ace of the team and top scorer, was the same Kim Mingyu who basically lived in the training center, constantly in need of treatment for his never ending list of injuries. And please, slow down with the injuries, the center’s almost out of athletic tape and bandages, you’re begging him to please be more careful out on the field. 

Warnings: cursing because I can’t help myself, and very obviously injuries (I’ll come back to be more specific with the injuries lol) 

Extra info: uni setting, I’m taking an intro to athletic training class this sem so I know some stuff about treating athletes but again it’s intro class so beware if some things aren’t super accurate lol 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Xu Minghao: Filmed Lovestory  

Summary: When you agreed to help film your friend’s practice for an upcoming competition, you didn’t think much of it. You’ve done it thousands of times. Put on your skates, a couple of extra layers so you won’t freeze, use her phone to record her, and follow her out on the ice. It’s simple, really, and a great way to spend Saturdays while also getting some exercise in between your tiring uni life. What you didn’t expect is somehow to agree to film the practices of one of her skating friends. Her very handsome skating friend, you might add. So now your weekends are fully booked for the ice, but watching Minghao skate on the ice, it’s not so bad. 

Warnings: cursing as per usual 

Extra info: uni setting, as I mentioned with my Jun fic, all of my figure skating knowledge comes from the time I was obsessed with Yuzuru Hanyu like a year or two ago so again I apologize for the inaccuracies of the sport

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Boo Seungkwan: Tangerines, Confessions and a Supply Closet  

Summary: When you agreed to be the boys volleyball team’s manager, you didn’t think you’d spend your high school career taking care of the team. Yet, here you are, in your senior year and the only reason some of your players are even here (and why some of them are passing their classes, seriously signing up as a manager became a lot more than just handing out water bottles!). The only reason you’ve been able to stick around as long as you have is because of the team’s setter, Boo Seungkwan, who makes your job of wrangling the team a little easier. Now if only you could get the team off your back about confessing to him before the two of you graduate, that really would be great. 

Warnings: cursing as per usual, threats to kill an entire volleyball team (all jokes), and getting locked in a supply closet 

Extra info: high school setting, this is the second fic that is 100% fueled by my Haikyuu phase that is slowly coming back due to the movies and the new content that’s been coming out recently. And out of all the sports, this is the one I’m most knowledgeable in since I actually watch matches (shout out to Lim Sungjin and Heo Subong). Also I had such a hard time giving Seungkwan a sport since he does so much I decided on volleyball because the thought of him playing makes me want to bark so there’s that 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Chwe (Vernon) Hansol: Quick, He’s Not Watching! 

Summary: When your older brother told you to wait for him in the bleachers, promising to give you a ride after your night class, you didn’t think much of it. If you’re lucky, you’d be able to take a nap in the bleachers waiting for him. What you didn’t expect was to somehow catch the attention of one of the midfielders, Vernon. As you come around more and more often, you find the midfielder always making an effort to say hey to you, and even stealing some of the team’s snacks for you. Now you just wonder if he’ll make a move before your brother notices the two of you getting closer with each other.

Warnings: uni setting, cursing as per usual, and older protective brother that means well but doesn’t go about it the right way 

Extra info: I deadass looked up what the positions in soccer are because I have no idea what goes on in the sport even though one of my friend’s played our entire high school career 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Lee Chan: You’re Not Too Bad 

Summary: You didn’t think that showing up to your best friend’s, Seokmin’s, baseball practices would make one of the players hate you, but here you are and apparently Lee Chan hates you. Or so you think at least. The rest of the team loves you, especially since you always bring them plenty of food to feed them throughout practice (it pays to be a nutrition major) and always try to help out even though you’re not an official manager. But it’s no biggie, it’s not like Chan hating you bothers you, nope, not at all. But maybe you’d skip out on stopping by Seokmin’s practice for the week… Yeah that sounds like a good idea. 

Warnings: cursing as per usual, Chan being a bit of an asshole but it gets resolved don’t worry 

Extra info: uni setting, Dino being assigned baseball is all because of the 231105 fansign where he was given a baseball jersey and glove, and I still don’t know how baseball works

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

[nicomoon69]

I’ve made up so much Bernard lore in my head so I’m just going to dump it here

so post Louis Grieve in my head Bernard transferred to an all boys boarding school his junior year (someone suggested Brentwood so I’m gonna go w that). his parents sent him there as a bit of a last ditch effort to straighten him out, get up his grades and push him out of his silly habits. this also included them making him buzz off his hair since they deemed his old hair unprofessional.

all of it was a huge blow to Bernard’s already fragile mental health and self esteem so at Brentwood he was kind of a mess. he wasn’t exactly a bad student but the people around him considered him even more of an outsider than he was before at Louis Grieve.

eventually Bernard did find himself with a small group of friends (might further develop them as ocs??) who were much like him outsiders. one of said friends also being the first time he fooled around with a guy, which led to several more though none of it was ever serious.

there was lots of denial at first but by the time his time at Brentwood ended Bernard had accepted himself as queer.

he applied for a few colleges, some outside of Gotham but he ended up settling for GU bc part of his couldnt handle leaving his city behind. he chose a double major because he thought that would make his parents most proud and bc biology and physics were the only subjects he enjoyed.

despite everything seemingly going well for Bernard he felt an emptiness that nothing could fix, that is until he found the Children of Dionysus. despite knowing the risks of joining a cult he did. he was in the cult for roughly eight months before he got kidnapped to get sacrificed.

that was a rough version of what happened in my head. I have some more details that I couldn’t fit smoothly into that word vomit so here’s some more

Bernard came out to his parents his first semester, which they took pretty badly and led him to getting kicked out and having to couch surf for a bit before landing on the apartment he was living in during TD:R.

to keep himself afloat with no support from his parents Bernard worked two jobs, one at a diner around the corner of his apartment and the other at a coffee shop closer to GU.

at Brentwood Bernard did a lot of experimental stuff with his appearance ranging from spiking his hair after it had grown out a bit to getting his ears pierced multiple times. a tongue piercing came along somewhere in his time at the cult and Bernard genuinely doesn’t remember getting it.

during junior and senior year Bernard joined the basketball team. he was surprisingly good considering he had never showed any interest in the sport and wasn’t particularly athletic before then. basketball somehow also led him to training himself in martial arts.

since I do hc the Children of Dionysus to have some more Dionysian practices I think Bernard developed both a distaste for wine and eating raw meat (omophagia).

Bernard has been refusing to get drastic hair cuts after the buzz cut and is unlikely to get one any time soon. he’s been taking kitchen scissors to his hair and freestyling it if he feels it needs more shape.

though he’s been out for a while Bernard hasn’t actually dated anyone long term before Tim. most people he’s been with were flings or were blocked after a few dates.

the way Bernard got into contact with the cult is through one of his high school classmates, who he’d seen talk about the ways that joining it had improved their life and how they were much more enlightened. he due to his circumstances was an easy victim after his initial skepticism

there’s just a lot of permanent scarring due to the cult, but Bernard doesn’t bother covering them up with make up or clothes. at least not post getting rescued.

Bernard actually goes to therapy after the cult and was also diagnosed with autism (let me project a teeny bit). it helped him make more sense of his life and gave him more direction.

his cooking passion came from his early childhood, being dimmed out in middle school and only returning after high school. he mostly enjoys writing his own recipes and experimenting with taste. there was ofc the added challenge of budget, but it was one of the few things that made him happy.

his conspiracy theorist side mostly calmed down until he was thrust back into it when he started dating Tim. this was due to odd behavior from Tim and until Bernard found out he was RR (which really didn’t take that long) he was balls deep on conspiracy blogs and threads. he didn’t really quite after putting the RR pieces together though, bc he enjoyed being able to subtly help Tim with his cases.

due to the two jobs and double major previously mentioned Bernard has a terrible sleeping schedule. he regularly stays up past three only to have a morning shift that starts at seven.

gonna quite rambling for now lol, might edit this post to add more in the morning but I’m sick of typing. sorry if it’s a lot, I just think abt him a lot……. yea..

[steddieasitgoes]

written for @eddiemonth Day 16 Prompt: Library & Curious a/n: This one might be my favorite one I've written yet! It's set at the start of season 2! read on ao3 | link to my ao3 Edde Month series

Eddie’s well aware there are a lot of stupid classes that Hawkins High requires its student body to take. Algebra (there’s no reason for the alphabet and numbers to mix, except in very rare cases, like D20 type cases), Physics (what more do they need to know beyond what goes up, must come down), French (as if anyone from Bumfuck, Indiana could afford to go to France — okay maybe some can, but Eddie’s certainly not one of them that’s for damn sure), goddamn Physical Education (only way he’s running is if someone is chasing him, thank you very much). But the stupidest class of all has to be Study Hall.

An entire class dedicated to doing work for other classes? What kind of idiot dreamed this one up? Instead of letting them out an hour early, some guy, probably in a suit because all bad ideas come from guys in suits, decided to hold them hostage to do more work. It’s ridiculous. Not to mention, it’s one of the few times, outside of lunch, that the grades get to mingle with each other. Sure, lots of studying goes on in between freshmen drooling over seniors and sophomores paying juniors for last year’s test answers.

The only time Eddie actually liked study hall was during his sophomore year when he had it first period and could do all the homework he neglected to do the night before. It’s the only time it actually made sense. And the only time, thus far in his high school career, that Eddie actually turned in more assignments than not.

But now, he’s a senior stuck with study hall as his last class of the day, and he wants to die. Okay, maybe not die die. But die in the sense that he’d rather risk bodily harm escaping the hellscape that is the Hawkins library during 6th-period study hall than sit here. His freedom is so close — nothing but a few windows and a brick wall separating him from the brisk late-October air. Eddie can’t risk it, though. He’s already reached his detention quote for the semester, and if he wants to keep using the drama room for Hellfire meetings, he has to sit in this damn library seat and at least pretend to get some work done.

Which, honestly, isn’t the worst thing in the world. At least it gives him time to work on his latest Hellfire campaign without the prying eyes of Jeff and Gareth or the unnecessary questions from Freak. Sure, he’s supposed to be working on an essay for English Lit, but he doesn’t think Ms. Washington is going to appreciate his take on Frankenstein, so he’ll worry about coming up with a dumbed-down idea another day.

Besides, even focusing on his new campaign is hard enough with the idle chatter going on that the librarian is either pretending not to hear or is too tired of shushing them for.

It’s the usual sort of study hall gossip. Who’s screwing who. What teacher is going to pull a pop quiz tomorrow and become the biggest asshole at Hawkins High. The occasional nervous whispers of the geeks actually studying.

It’s all mindless chatter that drifts into the background when the topic of Tina’s Halloween Bash comes up. That’s the real gossip of the night. Who got the keg, and what other alcohol is being provided? Who is going to be the best dressed? What couple is going to get caught screwing in Tina’s parent’s bed? Are there going to be any good fights or breakups?

Eddie rolls his eyes. Jesus H. Christ, can’t anybody be original around here?

Unfortunately for Eddie, there’s no escaping Tina’s Halloween Bash since he’s been summoned to provide some extra party favors, as the “cool” kids like to call them. Eddie, never one to back down from being a thorn in a “cool” kid’s side, always responds with the same spiel: “Drugs. What you want is drugs, right? Or should I go raid Melvald’s for you?”

Whatever. Money is money, and Eddie can take all the money he can get his grubby hands on if he wants to get out of this shit-hole town when he graduates in June.

Glancing at his watch, he tips his head back in a silent groan of annoyance. Only ten minutes have passed since he slunk into the uncomfortable library seat. Christ, why does time move so slow, sometimes? Eddie tries to focus on his Hellfire notes in front of him, and he’s successful for all of thirty seconds before something catches his attention in the corner of his eye.

Nancy Wheeler and the former Hawkins High King, Steve Harrington, are whispering to each other by the pencil sharpener. He rolls his eyes. Of course, no one else in the library is paying them any mind. And why would they? Harrington fell from grace last year, and Wheeler isn’t exactly the “look at me” type. Still, Eddie finds them morbidly interesting in a way he finds all the tragic heterosexual couples in this stupid small town interesting.

Before Eddie has a chance to fall deeper into his cynical outlook on this stupid Hawkins High couple, Wheeler starts tugging Harrington toward the private study room in the back of the library. It’s a move that shocks Eddie to his core. Don’t get him wrong, he’s heard all bout Harrington’s little trysts in that very room over the years (thank you gossip mill for the very cheap porn), but he never would have assumed Wheeler would be the one tugging him toward it.

It’s that detour from who she’s supposed to be that has Eddie peeling himself off his chair.  At least, that’s what he tells himself as he saunters toward the stack of books in the back of the library closest to the private room. If he hears moaning or anything remotely sounding like they’re hooking up, he promises himself he’ll leave. He’s a freak in many ways, but a creep, he is not.

Glancing over his shoulder, Eddie can see the two of them in the small room. They’re close but not close enough to be doing anything beyond talking. From the look on her face, doing anything of that sort isn’t even on her mind.

Interesting.

Eddie creeps closer.

“Barbara. It’s like nobody cares. Except her parents. And now they’re selling their house.”

“Nance—“

Wheeler rants about something, but he misses most of it. Only catching the very end.

“It’s destroying them.”

No shit, Eddie thinks with another dramatic eye roll. Of course, losing their only daughter is destroying them. The Hollands are one of the few families around here that actually have a heart. At least they did before Barbara tore it from them by running away. Or so the story goes. Eddie’s always been a bit suspicious of Holland’s disappearance. He knows the runaway type, and a straight-A girl, with a well-off family who loves them like Holland had doesn’t fit the bill.

“I know. Okay? I get it,” Harrington says, glancing away from Wheeler to peer out the window. Eddie grabs the first book on the shelf and buries his face in it. It must fool Steve because he starts talking again. “But listen, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Yeah, we could tell them the truth.”

“This isn’t some game, Nance. If they found out that we told any…” He trails off again, and Eddie reaches for another book.

Eyes peering over the pages, Eddie watches as he shuts the blinds before presumably returning to Wheeler. With the blinds shut and their voices even lower, he can no longer hear what they’re talking about. Which is a damn shame because Eddie’s never been more curious about what the disgraced King was about to say than right now. 

+ + +

“M’telling you guys. It was weird,” Eddie says through a mouthful of Doritos.

They’re hanging out in Gareth’s garage. Jeff sits in the old recliner while Gareth stays perched behind his drum kit. Freak is running late, as usual, though Eddie’s not too pressed about it today. Too distracted filling the boys in on what he overheard in the library.

“I don’t know man; it sounds like she was just concerned about her best friend,” Gareth says, lightly tapping his drumsticks on his snare.

“Yeah, those two were inseparable, remember.”

“All the more reason why it’s weird she’s been mopping around lately. Obviously, she knows where Holland is. Or what happened to her.”

“Not this again,” Jeff groans, sinking further into the recliner.

“Yes, this again,” Eddie retorts, throwing Jeff an intense glare. “This town is weird as shit. If the Byers kid can come back from the dead—“

“I thought they proved it wasn’t actually Byers they found in the quarry,” The Freak says, finally joining them in the garage. 

“They did, but Eddie still thinks—“

“Shut up!” Eddie shouts, taking a moment to throw a Dorito at all of their heads. “Let me level with you for a second, okay? Yeah, sure, they said that kid wasn’t Byers, but they never said whose kid it was, which is weird. And then right after that, they “find” Holland’s car? It’s too coincidental, man. You know a story isn’t right when it’s too easy.”

“This isn’t one of our campaigns,” Gareth sighs. “Sometimes things really are just accidental coincidences.”

Eddie shakes his head, running his Dorito-stained fingers over his face. “Nah, man, m’not buying it this time. Harrington and Wheeler know what really happened to Holland. And I think they’re responsible for it.”

“So, what?” Jeff asks, leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees. “You think they made her disappear or something.”

“Maybe Harrington got Holland knocked up, and his family gave her money to leave.”

“See!” Eddie shouts, slapping his hands together as he jumps on the balls of his feet. “Freak gets it! That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

“Okay, but if Harrington knocked Wheeler’s best friend up, why would she still be dating him?” Jeff asks.

“And why would they both be hiding her from her parents?” Gareth adds.

Okay, so maybe these are valid questions, but Eddie doesn’t appreciate the doubts they’re throwing at him. “I don’t appreciate you doubting me,” he says plainly. “You’ll see. M’gonna figure this out.”

“Right, just like you figured out that Ms. O’Donnell was actually failing you for a reason and not because she had some vendetta against Wayne for not dating her.”

“Hey. That was a good theory, okay. One I still think is true, by the way.” Turning his back on the boys, Eddie crosses the room and tosses the empty bag of Doritos into the trash bin before heading towards his badly parked van.

“I thought we were practicing!” Gareth shouts after him.

“Just let him go,” Jeff sighs. “He’s impossible to work with when he’s in conspiracy theory mode.”

Eddie flips Jeff off, climbing into the van. “I’ll see you boys tomorrow.”

+ + +

Eddie’s been at Tina’s party for an entire hour and a half, and there’s still no sign of Harrington or Wheeler. Not that he’s actively searching them out, of course. He’s just had some downtime in between upselling Hagan for the world’s shittiest pot he could get his hands on, and explaining to some cheerleader how Special K hits differently if you snort it. Plus, his supply ran out about ten minutes ago, so he’s just buying time before someone notices him lingering and kicks his ass to the curb.

He’s about to save himself and whatever jock gets thrown his way the trouble, when he spots Harrington and Wheeler arguing by the punch bowl. He’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, but he has a sneaking suspicion it has less to do with the conversation he heard in the library and more to do with Wheeler’s drunken state. Case in point: the red liquid she just spilled all over her blouse.

Chasing after her, Harrington cuts through the crowd and makes his way toward one of the bathrooms. Eddie waits a minute before following them down the crowded hallway. Thankfully, no one is in line for this bathroom — still too early in the night for the alcohol to have hit their bladders — so he’s first in the unofficial bathroom line. Leaning casually against the wall, Eddie angles his ear closer to the door so he can hear inside.

It takes a minute for his ears to tune out the music and nonsense chatter, but when they do, he can clearly hear Wheeler slurring her words.

“You’re pretending like everything’s okay. You know, like we didn’t… like we didn’t kill Barb.”

Eddie’s never experienced shock before, at least, he doesn’t think he has; the early days of his life are a little hazy around the edges, but that’s the only word he thinks fits what he’s experiencing right now. Part of him wants to shove his ear closer to the door to continue listing, while the other part of him wants to run for the hills, screaming in victory. And if he’s straight with himself, maybe screaming in fear a little, too. Harrington and Wheeler murderers? Who knew?

He knew, that’s who!

He knew there was something shady going on between those two.

Pressing his ear closer, he can hear Wheeler slurring more words, though he’s not exactly sure what she’s saying. Honestly, he doesn’t really care what she’s saying. He’s listening for Harrington’s response right now. What does the mighty King have to say about the bomb she’s just dropped?

“This is bullshit,” she slurs.

“Like we’re in love?” Steve asks.

Huh, clearly, Eddie missed a step or two in his shocked state.  He’s not exactly sure how the conversation strayed from them killing Holland to their, clearly, toxic relationship, but the fact it did is all the proof Eddie needs. If they didn’t kill her, Harrington would have been vehemently denying her claim. And yet, he sounds like a kicked puppy dog right now because she doesn’t love him.

Join the club, Harrington.

The doorknob starts to jiggle, and Eddie bolts. It’s not that he’s afraid about coming face-to-face with the two who apparently killed Holland. It’s just that, well, he needs a minute to think about the information he’s just learned.

+ + +

With Gareth and Freak both busy supervising their siblings around Hawkins and Jeff on candy duty for his family’s house, Eddie has no one to share the good bad news with. RIP Holland and all that, but he’s sitting on some serious dirt right now.

The good part of Eddie’s brain knows he should head straight for the police station. Pull good ole’ Chief Hopper aside and gloat about how he did his job for him. But Eddie’s spent enough time at the stuffy station to know no one is going to believe him especially not against Harrington and Wheeler. He’d have better luck marching in there and turning himself in for her murder. Not that he’s going to do that.

He supposes he could tell Wayne about it, but he doesn’t need to be dragging his uncle into any more of his messes. And since Eddie has no proof beyond overhearing a drunken confession, a mess it’ll surely turn into.

So, he opts for the third option and heads out to Skull Rock to do some thinking.

Maybe Freak is right, and it was some sort of jealous rage brought on by a Holland-Harrington pregnancy. Or maybe Holland saw something she shouldn’t have; the possibilities are endless, and Eddie’s imagination is limitless.

Eventually, he circles back to what he’s supposed to do with this information. Should he turn them in? Maybe not Wheeler; she seems like she’s experienced enough guilt as it and the girl has a bright future or whatever it is the teachers are always talking about. Harrington, though? Harrington, he should turn in, right? I mean, he didn’t even seem phased when Wheeler brought up the murder. Eddie’s watched enough horror movies to know that’s psychopath behavior right there. Besides, it would be nice to see the King behind bars. But then again, he hasn’t been the King in a while. And Harrington’s never really done anything to Eddie beyond standing idle while Hagan threw slurs at him. But he’s not hanging out with Hagan anymore, so maybe he should cut him some slack.

Though they did murder someone.

Jesus H. Christ.

Maybe this is why they say curiosity killed the cat — Eddie’s head is throbbing. He’s about to take another hit from his joint when he hears leaves crunching in the distance.

Shit.

Someone’s coming.

Snubbing out his joint against the rock, Eddie tries his best to make it seem like he’s just here, escaping the busy Halloween night. Which, like, he definitely is, but he can’t be too safe. Especially not when there are two teenage murderers on the loose.

“She thinks m’bullshit? She’s bullshit! Bullshit.”

The voice is unmistakable.

Jesus H. Christ could tonight get any weirder.

Eddie’s only escape is to run deeper into the forest, and he’s not about to do that so he makes himself comfortable on top of Skull Rock like a fucking sitting duck. Searching the pockets of his vest, he yanks out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. Neither of which he was looking for. Of course, he left his pocket knife in his van. Stupid. So stupid!

There’s a moment of silence before Harrington emerges from the clearing. The moon is bright above them, making Steve’s tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes glow in the otherwise dark forest.

Maybe he is feeling guilty after all.

“Ah, fuck,” Harrington groans, stumbling to the ground.

Eddie watches as he rolls around for a moment, struggling to find his footing. If Eddie were a mean person, he might let Harrington suffer. But something about his behavior reminds him of a wounded animal, and Eddie’s always had a soft spot for bruised and broken things.

“Shit, Harrington, you okay?” Eddie asks, jumping down.

Eddie’s boots crunch against the leaves, startling Harrington. He manages to pull himself into a seated position and brandishes a near empty beer bottle in Eddie’s direction. “Stay back!”

“Woah, man,” Eddie yelps, hands raised in surrender in front of him. “Don’t kill me.”

“Oh, s’you,” Steve says, slumping against the tree behind him. He tosses the beer bottle aside and runs both his hands over his face. “Jesus. Why does everyone think I would kill s-someone?”

“Uh,” Eddie stutters, glancing around. Now’s his chance to make a break for it. Put those hours of physical education to good use and sprint to the van before Harrington has a chance to make him his next victim. But there’s something in Steve’s sad eyes and dejected voice that makes Eddie stay. “‘Cause you have killed someone before?”

“Man, what the hell are you talking about?” Harrington snaps, fumbling to get out of his jacket. “I’ve n-never killed anyone.”

“So, you didn’t kill Barbara Holland, then?”

“No! Jesus, ‘course not. Barb was… Barb was nice. She was good. Like Nance. Better than Nance, maybe. I don’t know,” Harrington whines, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Barb she’s… yeah, man, she’s dead. But I didn’t have anything to do with that. N-not in the way you think I did, at least.”

Harrington’s not making a lot of sense, which only spurs Eddie’s curiosity on more. Closing the distance between them, Eddie hops to a squat in front of him. “But you did have something to do with what happened to her?”

“Shit, man,” Harrington groans, words slurring more more. “S’complicated, okay. I can’t talk about it with you or her parents or anyone. Or else they’ll come for me or Nance or our families and then we’ll all be toast like Barb. And that… that thing that came out of the Byers’ wall.”

Complicated? Jesus H. Christ, Eddie’s never heard anything more complicated than the jumble of words that just left Harrington’s mouth. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, the realization that they’re alone in the woods talking about something someone doesn’t want Harrington talking about.

“What?” Eddie says more to himself than to Steve. “Harrington, what thing in the Byers wall? You’re not making any sense!”

“The thing. You know, the… the,” Steve hiccups. “The thing we can’t talk ‘bout, else they’ll come for us next.”

Someone will come for him and his family if he reveals what happened to Barb? And the thing in the Byers wall? He wants to ask who would come. What would happen? Is he being blackmailed? There are so many questions dancing on the tip of his tongue, but none of them win the war.

“Harrington, man,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “Are you in trouble? Do you, like, need help or something?”

Finally, freeing himself from his jacket, Harrington lifts his head and looks up. There’s a moment where Eddie’s life flashes before his eyes, but then the sad replay of his life is interrupted by Harrington’s hand on his cheek. A dopey-looking grin on his face as he squints up at Eddie.

“You have pretty eyes, M-m-munson. Anyone ever tell you that?” Steve slurs before promptly passing out against the tree.

What the hell has Eddie gotten himself into?

[cloverdaisies]

# UR SUCH AN EMO! ｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

— choi chanhee x gn!reader

₊⊹⁀➴ description: the popular kid meets his unconventional match in one of the school’s most hated emo’s. from lab partners to cleaning buddies: the events that caused social royalty to fall in love with someone from the very bottom of the high school food chain. ｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

₊⊹⁀➴ genre: angst, fluff, enemies to lovers.

₊⊹⁀➴ word count: 4.1k+

₊⊹⁀➴ a/n: happy belated birthday @sanaxo-o , ily a lot, hope you enjoy this little piece i put together 4 u 🫶 it’s been in the works for a while but i really wanted to complete it for you. ｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

₊⊹⁀➴ warnings: mentions of bullying, frequent arguing.

The sound of crashing drums and noisy guitar riffs leaked from your headphones, lazily dragging your shoes across the pavement as you were unwillingly met with the gates of the hell that was school. As usual, the halls were like the inside of a incredibly overpopulated zoo, with heads being met with the sides of lockers and the boisterous roars of students celebrating the beginning of the last semester of senior year.

You couldn’t be more excited to finish school, considering school simply wasn’t the safest place for anyone with alternative taste in anything. You clumsily made your way to your locker, abruptly pausing the music in your headphones before placing them on the shelf and shutting it with a slam.

“Someone’s not happy.” You sighed at the voice beside you, a familiar voice that has haunted your nightmares since you were at least 14 years old. “If you wear anymore eyeliner, you’re gonna start looking like your cosplaying a panda.”

“Good one.” One of other boys perked up, cheering on the other with a pitiful snicker sucking up to him like a little minion in goggles and dungarees ready to steal the moon.

Sunwoo definitely wasn’t the nicest guy to be around in high school, it certainly didn’t help that your locker was conveniently placed next to his so you got the divine pleasure of seeing him everyday. It also didn’t help that his group of minions congregated around that space 24/7 during every break like they had nowhere else to be.

However, he wasn’t the worst of the bunch. If anything it was a boy called Chanhee, he always had something to say, in fact too many things. “Your headphones are making my ears bleed.” , “Try not to wear black challenge!” , or just simple things sometimes like “I HATE your shoes.” You couldn’t deny you brought that upon yourself after one time you’d made fun of the fact he’d worn a beret to school, yeah the entire, “dAd yOu CaNt dO tHiS i WaNna gO tO fAsHioN sChoOl” comment you’d made didn’t sit well with him.

He stood towards the back of the small circle, him, Sunwoo and Changmin were the only ones that had arrived on time surprisingly, as some of that group seemed to only turn up half way through the day when they felt like it. The others weren’t as bad either, Hyunjae was a nice guy and so was Haknyeon, the rest you hadn’t had too much interaction with, thankfully.

Breezing past them with a sigh, you threw your bag over your shoulder and decided it’s best to ignore them rather than make any attempt to clap back. Besides how could you waste anytime when you had the extremely fun class that was chemistry to rush to?

“Okay class, welcome. Take your seats.” Your chemistry teacher welcomed you in with a jovial smile, his combover gelled so stiffly it would survive a hurricane intact. "We're jumping straight into some lab work today, I've assigned you partners based on ability."

The entire class let out a unanimous groan at the thought of set partners, the excited glances made by bestfriends across the room being replaced with long frowns. However, for you, this was simply the best case scenario since you didn’t have any friends in this class. At least that’s what you thought until the teacher spoke some unfathomable words that sent you spiralling as soon as they fell from his tongue.

“Y/n, you’re with Chanhee on this bay.” He called from the second row, you glanced over at Chanhee who rolled his eyes with a groan grabbing his bag and grumpily shoving it down next to his stool.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not happy either.” You laughed sarcastically, sitting beside him as he rested his head on the desk in frustration.

The teacher went on to explain the test you’d be carrying out, different chemicals reactivity in water, recording the results and comparing the differences. It was pretty simple, since it’s was just a warm up to ease the class into the semester. Hopefully the time would pass fairly quickly so you wouldn’t have to sit next to mr. miserable for much longer.

“Are you just going to sit there or help?” You sighed, watching the boy sit up with sleepy eyes peaking through the strands of his dyed blonde hair. You passed him a pair of protective goggles, dropping them in front of him as he jolted awake.

“Sorry, I fell asleep you’re that boring.” He replied satirically placing his glasses on. He sported a false smile gleaming off his white teeth, his eyes creasing and smile lines faintly showing at each peak of his lips.

“Charming.” You raised your eyebrows momentarily, filling the plastic basin with water and placing it on the table in front of you. You took turns dropping chemicals into the water watching the the chemicals fizz or even catch light at times. Recording the sound and visual on paper as well as the time taken for it to stop.

“So why do you hate me so much?” You asked the boy curiously, crossing your arms as you watched him scribble down some more notes in his workbook.

“I don’t?” He laughed slightly, shaking his head, his golden earrings dazzling under the light. “I’m more annoyed I have to work with you, because to him, hopefully I can get your grades up.”

“So you’re crying because you think you’re doing charity work? Get over yourself.” You snickered, not breaking eye contact as he stared you down with an intense glare, his pupils darkened in silent rage.

“Maybe you should get over yourself, huh? You ever thought about that, don’t talk to me on your high horse when you had no reason to make fun of me for what I wear in the first place.” Chanhee spat, thankfully the ringing of the school bell paused the argument, diffusing the tension in the air.

The class was dismissed, and in your next few classes you couldn’t stop thinking about what you would have said back to him in that conversation. Perhaps something along the lines of “Isn’t that what you and your group have done to me everyday for the past 5 years?” If the bell hadn’t rang there would have probably been some sort of cat fight break out.

Soon it was lunch, and as you were sitting with your friends on your own table you felt an intense stare across the room. You looked up inquisitively at the feeling of eyes on you, spotting the same group of boys Sunwoo, Chanhee and the others you like to call the minions ( come on they literally have one called Kevin ) staring at you like hawks. You rolled your eyes and continued talking with your friends, eyes occasionally wandering to the other side of the room. You needed another drink, squashing your empty carton of apple juice and throwing it into the trash can nearby —landing a pretty cool trick shot.

“He’s not very happy with you.” A polite voice chimed from in front of you in the line of the canteen, “Said you got in a bit of an argument.”

You turned to see Haknyeon, nibbling on cherry tomatoes from a plastic packet like a small mouse, whilst heartily filling up his lunch tray and sliding it across the surface.

“I can tell that, the minions seem to have a bit of a staring problem.” You chuckled looking over the group where they were trying to land food into each others mouths from large distances, yelling boyishly when Juyeon caught a grape from across the cafeteria.

“He’ll get over it.” Haknyeon shrugged, as he got to the front of the line ready to pay for his food. He held out the plastic packet of tomatoes he was snacking on and offered. “Tomato?”

“No thanks, I hate them.” You laughed slightly, listening to the beep as his card was accepted on the lunch reader.

“More for me then.” He shrugged, stuffing his face with another before flashing the brightest and cutest smile you’d ever seen. You paid for your drink, sitting back at the table with a sigh, glancing back over at Chanhee as he smiled and laughed along with the other boys in glee.

Next period after Lunch was English, the sound of the teacher reciting quotes from The Great Gatsby singing you to sleep like a lullaby. It also didn’t help in front of you, Chanhee and Hyunjae were sat working away taking notes. After the argument you’d had this morning with him, the presence of Chanhee couldn’t put you anymore on edge.

“Hey y/n… y/n? Wake up.” Hyunjae flung a pencil towards your head, abruptly causing you to sit up straight at your desk eyes sensitive to the bright lights around you.

“What?” You rubbed the top if your head where he’d hit and groaned in annoyance. “I was getting a good amount of sleep there.”

“I’m having a party on Friday, you wanna come?” He asked, with bright eyes and a grin of genuine interest spreading across his face.

“You know, I always say no.” You replied with a sarcastic jingle, situating your head back on your desk and yawning tiredly.

“That is not happening. Even if you say yes there is no way I’m letting you come.” Chanhee chimed in with a shocked gasp, laughing to shake off the thought of you being at one of Hyunjae’s events.

“Can’t you just be nice? Y/n’s my friend and actually is pretty damn cool if you get to know-” Hyunjae laughed, thinking the other boy couldn’t be serious but was sharply cut off before he could finish his sentence.

“Are you even my friend?” Chanhee scoffed, immediately going back to his work and not making eye contact with him. Hyunjae shrugged at you, offering a sympathetic smile and going back to his own work.

You didn’t pay anymore attention to the pair of them, your head reintroducing itself back to the table planning to nap the rest of the lesson away.

“Jesus wake up.” You felt a push at your arm, “You can’t interrupt my sleep and then start snoozing behind me.”

You looked up at Chanhee in annoyance, raising an eyebrow whilst observing the disgusted look on his face. You smiled, taking a breath, choosing your words carefully before speaking to the brown eyed boy.

“Will you do us both a favor? And stop speaking to me?” You spoke calmly with a false sweetness loading each word like a bitter bullet, watching as his eyes rolled to the top of their sockets and back.

“That’s enough! Y/n and Chanhee! Both of you out of the classroom.” The teacher demanded, fed up of the disruption from the corner of the classroom. You both got up, more than annoyed leaving the classroom door with a slam.

“You’re so dead for this.” Chanhee glared at you in annoyance his palm resting against his forehead as he tried to destress.

“Deserved. If you kept your mouth shut we wouldn’t be here, would we?” You smiled as he sighed, it was quite funny watching him being kicked out of class for the first time — a place you’d been so many times before, but for him it was more than ego crushing.

“What brings you both out in to the corridors?” The sound of heels clicking down the corridor, has both your heads turning towards the principal with a sigh. “Kicked out of class.”

“Not intentionally.” You groaned, hating having to encounter the woman considering she had her eyes on you 24/7 for sleeping through classes and not doing any homework contributing to your grade.

“Y/n, you can’t be pulling down the reputation of some of our best students like Mr. Choi here. Seeing as the both of you aren’t in lesson, the music store room actually needs cleaning and it would be amazing if you could help.” She smiled, passive aggressively clasping her hands together like a fly.

You’ve got to be kidding me, was the only coherent thought to pass your brain, it was only the first day back and you’d already gotten yourself into so much in just a few hours. She brought you to the storage room, where there was clutter everywhere, cardboard boxes, trash, old instruments just scattered over the unseeable floor.

“It might take a few days, so I’ll make sure you both commit to this for at least an hour each day until it’s clean. No free periods after lunch, got it?” She cocked an eyebrow at the two of you, pulling the dusty chain for the dim light bulb that barely lit the room.

“Yes Ms.” You both replied unenthusiastically, beginning to move boxes to make some walking room amongst all the chaos in the room.

“I could really use a coffee right now.” You groaned as the door slammed shut behind her with a deafening screech, the both of you covering your mouths with your forearms due to all the dust.

“You’ve just slept like a sloth for an hour and you need coffee? Pfft.” Chanhee scoffed, adding on a cough at the end blowing the dust out of his face with a look of disgust painted all over his face. “I can’t believe you got me into this.”

“You got yourself into this because you can’t keep yourself quiet, you’re just always dying to say something negative to me.” You put down the box you were carrying into a pile in the corner, the fragile cardboard wearing thin.

“Only because you for, some reason, think it’s okay to be mean to me too!” He snapped back once again referencing the time you’d made fun of his outfit one day, pulling his red sweater over his palms as he lifted another box.

“I was actually gonna say earlier, don’t you think I hear the same thing everyday from your gang of guys? Do you think that one time I made fun of you outweighs the last 5 years of you making them at me?” You turned around, tears welling in your eyes as you spat your words of frustration out in to the air. A moment of silence lingering, the tension in the air so cuttable and cold it felt like shards of ice hitting your skin, the nerves and adrenaline painting a pink color your in your cheeks.

“Just because they made fun of you, or even just Sunwoo, does not mean for even one minute I thought that about you too.” He softened his voice having seen you get so vulnerable on the topic. “Plus you give Hyunjae a pass, why did you go for me? Why did you make fun of me? I still get slander for the way I dress and act to from them-”

“I could ask you why they get a pass? If they’re so mean to you and you don’t think they should be mean to me, then why are you even friends with them?” You laughed in frustration at the boy justifying years of torment to not only you but himself, it simply made no sense.

“Because I don’t know anything else? Is that what you wanted to hear?” He threw up his arms in frustration watching as your lips sealed in silence. “Or the real answer, because I’m too scared to say I got hurt by it? I don’t want to seem fragile or like I can’t take a joke. I’ve known them since when we were kids, they’re still my friends, my day 1’s. That’s the truth.”

Seemingly emotional, he turned around to the wall slightly frustrated he’d let his guard down, however also perhaps in a state of processing the reality of his own actions and feelings. As if he’d had some sort of emotional awakening, as if the cogs finally started turning on why he was so hurt by what you’d said to him. He was hurt by you, because he’d already had his confidence worn down by the same people affecting you.

The both of you began unboxing the items in the storage room in complete silence, not uttering a single word other than a few coughs or mumbles about how much dust was in the room. You began opening a rather dusty box, a large rectangular one attached to a smaller chunkier box. You opened it and let out a quiet “cool” as you found a brand new electric guitar attached to an unopened amp.

“Do we have a power outlet in here?” You turned to Chanhee with an excited smile, he didn’t look up at you but just pointed to a old looking socket on the wall. You plugged in the amp, attaching the connecting wire to the guitar and played a slightly off key chord due to the guitar being untuned.

“Oh my goodness, that’s so loud stop.” Chanhee laughed slightly, a giggle from pure joy, not a sarcastic or mean one, a genuine chuckle. “We don’t have time for this.”

All of a sudden he returned to seriousness, the laughter pausing as quietly you put down the guitar neatly in the corner of the room and unplugged the amp. Clearly it was impossible to clear the air or bitterness with this guy, you may as well give up trying to reconcile at this point.

“I see how it is.” You sighed, lazily continuing the move the plethora of boxes around the room to try at least uncover the floor of the storage room by the end of hour.

Around 10 or so minutes later the bell rang, signalling the end of the day and soon the hallway outside was filled with muffled laughter trapping you both in the musty room until the storm passed. He didn’t say anything to you, asides from slinging his bag over his shoulder and leaving, it felt as if the conversation earlier seemingly had no effect on his feelings of hatred towards you.

Since it was the end of the day, you went to retrieve your headphones from your locker opening it up to a note that read:

“Ur Such An Emo!”

“Real original, ur so funny!” You uttered, crumpling the paper in your fist and letting out a deep sigh before putting your headphones around your neck.

“Didn’t like my note?” Sunwoo asked leaning against his locker with a cocked brow and his arms folded across his black wash denim jacket.

“Not really. I almost forgot how unfunny you were for a second though.” You sighed closing your locker door, only to have your arm gently grabbed back.

“I’m only joking, you do know that, don’t you?” He asked, his condescending smirk saying much otherwise. Despite it being ‘not that deep’ to him of course it was frustrating being the butt of the joke everyday for you.

“Sunwoo shutup for one minute, will you?” Chanhee approached him, pulling his gentle hand from your arm and turning back away from you coldly.

Almost shocked for words, you stood there for a moment before quickly rushing away from the scene down the hallway. Chanhee? Chanhee Choi? Defending you? Perhaps the conversation did have some impact on the way he thought of Sunwoo and his minion clan.

“So about that party, Friday night.” The cheery voice of Hyunjae beside you forced you to take off your headphones on your way out of the gates. “Are you coming?”

“Maybe.” You sighed, clutching your bag on your shoulder with a delayed and airy chuckle.

“That always means no, doesn’t it?” He laughed in response, trying to make eye contact as you only kept your eyes on the pavement ahead.

“Pretty much.” You shrugged, briefly nodding a goodbye to the boy before parting your ways to walk home. The trees hung over the sunny sky in September, leaves drooping, getting ready to decay orange and make the departure from their branches. Birds flying over the neighborhood in crowds, humming the scene a soundtrack as you stepped through your front door home. Crashing into your bed, you huffed wondering why Chanhee had defended you yet still acted as if he hated your guts.

｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ —

Friday soon stumbled upon you, the rest of the week hadn’t been particularly interesting, however Chanhee hadn’t spoken to you since Monday. Everyday the hour at the end of the day that you’d both designated to cleaning the music store room, he remained silent not speaking a word to you everyday, ignoring your questions, jokes and thoughts - only speaking when necessary with the odd “excuse me.” or sometimes even a brief “pass that over.”

Today wasn’t any exception, he strolled in on the last hour without any polite “hello”s or quite frankly any acknowledgment of your presence in the room at all. You’d had enough of trying to entertain yourself with your own thoughts and turned around to the boy with a quick snap. He’d chosen to wear a more toned down outfit than usual that day, straight fitted black jeans with a loose tucked in black t-shirt. In his ears he’d opted for small silver hoops which complimented the thin silver chain around his neck.

“I can’t take it anymore, why’ve you been ignoring me all week?” You huffed out, watching as the boy did nothing but shrug in the most annoying and frustrating fashion. “You don’t know, really? It’s killing me, did I do something to upset you? It can’t be nothing.”

“I’m not sure why I’m ignoring you, I’m actually not.” He sighed, carrying himself within a register that translated words of genuine truth. He finished packing one of the last boxes, placing his palms on the top and beginning to stare into nothing but space.

“Then can you stop?” You laughed walking through to the thin aisle of shelves where you’d been placing organised boxes for the past week. You gently put your last box down, turning and accidentally bumping into Chanhee as you hadn’t noticed he’d moved from his original spot to move his own box.

You caught eye contact with him, forgetting to apologise for bumping into him instead you were lost for words. As you looked into his hazel brown eyes, you couldn’t seem to catch a single coherent thought other than how unreal he looked in the warm lighting above him.

“Can you not? I just nearly dropped my shit.” He rolled his eyes and huffed a huge sigh of frustration forcefully breaking his eye contact with you.

“Jeez I’m sorry, didn’t see you there.” You groaned, returning the eye roll, annoyed he’d began picking arguments with his unpredictable attitude once again.

“If you’re going to apologise try not being rude about it.” He clapped back, you immediately whipped your head back around, slowly walking back up to him and shaking your head in disbelief.

“Shouldn’t you be the one apologising? Didn’t you start the argume-” You began, before you were unexpectedly cut off by him passionately smashing his lips against yours, his hands cupping either side of your face. You couldn’t help but immediately reciprocate the kiss, the shock fading away almost instantly. You pulled away looking at him with a bewildered expression painted across your face, not expecting him to even have that kind of action programmed into his perfect little system.

“Uh, Why? I thought I was ‘such an emo’.” You asked, not being able to contain your laughter as he mirrored your chuckles, a smile plastered on his face as he locked eyes with the ground.

“Well first of all, never tell anyone what I’m about to say or you’re actually dead.” He looked up at you with a pair of sparkly eyes, “I like you? Even though you’re such an emo. I guess.. I have for a while, I always thought your style was really cool and I’m sorry I made fun of you.. I don’t really know why I did it.”

“You’re so awkward quit being so nervous about it.” You laughed as he chewed on his lip trying to hide the nervous grin creeping up. “I guess there’s always second chances, apology accepted.” You teased him, placing a boop on his nose with your finger.

“Thanks.” He spoke softly, his cheeks turning bright pink as you placed a kiss on one side of his face to reassure him. “Uhm, So you coming to that party tonight?”

“Sure I will.” You smiled, grabbing your bag as the last bell of the day sounded. “I guess I like you too, by the way.” You added before quickly escaping through the music storage door, leaving him behind alone, his brain running marathons and his heart beating out of his chest. His phone screen lit up and sending an aggressive bell sound to be muffled thorough the denim of his jean pocket:

y/n: oh and u looked like such an emo today xo

Chanhee laughed, his fingers shaking nervously over his cracked phone screen as he thought of a reply. When he got home he’d continue to text you until the very sunset, when his eyes simply couldn’t stay open any longer. For him, he finally felt accepted for who he was and what he liked — similarly so did you.

[read-write-thrive]

inspired by my last post on dead boy detectives high school AU: obligatory band kid AU (and it ended up v long so buckle up)

instrumentation/roles:

edwin: if we’re talking still in his shell edwin, he’s an oboe/bassoon player. if we’re talking out of his shell edwin, he’s a French horn player. either way he is 100% first chair but will only accept the section leader title if there’s no one else in his section, he is not about to deal with marching band any more than he has to. he aces competitions and the like when he’s on his own, but rarely has the patience for ensemble work. his parents started him on his instrument younger than his peers so it makes sense he’s so good, but his ego is mostly separate from that—he’s just like that. he’s in the main/symphonic band, marching band with some hesitation, orchestra, and chamber/honors band

charles: while you could say almost any brass/low woodwind instrument and I would say fair enough, I personally think he’s a trumpet player. he does sports so he is often running back and forth on practice/game days but wouldn’t trade it for anything. he’s probably not first chair, or at least isn’t until his later years since he/his parents prioritise sports, he 100% would love being a section leader!! he fits the loud trumpet stereotype but is one of the few that’re complete sweethearts (as long as you keep him away from some of the more toxic dudes, he can get a little swept up in it from time to time, but luckily he figures it all out by the time he graduates). he doesn’t do competitions or any of the fancy stuff since he has obligations with sports, but it sometimes makes him sad that his friends are so good at his instruments while he’s juggling this other stuff and can’t match their level. he’s in the main band, marching, and jazz band in the spring semester

crystal: she’s a saxophone girlie 100%. she can play any of them if pushed, but she tends towards alto sax during marching season and tenor/baritone during the off season depending on the piece’s/concert’s needs. she kept up with some of the more toxic upper woodwind/percussion players in her mean girl era but she’s since come to her senses and avoids them whenever possible. she could be first chair and section leader if she wanted, she’s good enough (parents definitely put her in lessons) and charismatic enough, but she’s not enthusiastic about either position and often purposefully dodges the extra responsibilities. likewise, she’s not interested in separate awards or competitions or anything like that (though I think she also tried it her first semester, like orchestra, to try to get her parents’ attention—when it didn’t work, she dropped it). I can see freshman being simultaneously terrified of and crushing on her. she’s in the main band, marching, and jazz band, though she tried orchestrating for a semester before deciding it was not her vibe

niko: I see her as a violin/strings player who then switches to flute for symphonic/marching band, especially since she’s an international student. I don’t think she gets along super well with the other flute/violin players, so she’s glad to make friends with the group. she’s taken lessons for both violin and flute, but violin was mainly when she was a kid and flute was to help her catch up to everyone else. she does competitions and such mainly so she can get out of classes and hang out with her friends, but tries her best to do well without taking away from her other activities/free time. her instrument cases are COVERED in stickers. she’s super nice to the younger years but they stop talking with her much once they find their friend groups, which always makes her sad. she’s the type to be a “band mom” to an underclassman once one sticks around, but it takes until her senior year for that to happen. she’s in the main band, marching band (again, more to hang out with her friends than for any enthusiasm in the competition), and orchestra to get a chance to play the violin

monty: that boy plays the clarinet argue with the wall. he has his shy moments but also his outspoken moments, just depends on the people involved. he was never in lessons but definitely practices more than your average person. he’s the one to always be in a practice room, either actually practicing or giving people readings, to the extent that there’s a practice room that’s unofficially his (including him scratching/writing his name somewhere before he graduates). he’s perpetually second chair, and secretly would like to be section leader but is just enough of a people pleaser that it never happens (either by him giving it to someone else or the director doesn’t give him the position). he’s in symphonic, marching, orchestra and chamber

thomas/the cat king: so I think he’s a percussionist as his mood can be a little all over the place and hard to read, so I think the variety of percussion suits him. plus the putting on a persona thing just screams percussionist to me. if he isn’t the one dealing himself he 100% has an in with the local dealer (which ig isn’t band related but the percussionists were the dealers/stoners in my band so). he isn’t first chair by any means but he is 100% the section leader of the pit (I cannot see him marching). I think he’s also one of those guys who tends to date underclassmen which concerns literally everyone and breaks a few hearts but is ultimately harmless if a bit of a dick (said with love). he’s in the main, marching, and jazz bands

jenny: was a stellar saxophonist in her time, graduated a few years ago but comes back to help with marching band over the summers/eventually decides to become a band director herself and student teaches during the gang’s senior year. when she was in school she did every ensemble available, which honestly intimidated most of her peers (barring the sapphics bc she 100% had everyone crushing on her, dated quite a few of them too). she’s a great band director once she learns more on how to deal with the inevitable students breaking down in your office on random lunch periods

esther: monty’s mom but refuses to be part of any band parent organization. will occasionally show up to concerts, but if you talk to her she somehow makes it all about her. at some point she gets in trouble with her concerning relationships with minor girls and as a result can’t go to school functions, which monty doesn’t talk about to really anyone but secretly is glad about. she never played any instruments and openly calls monty a nerd for enjoying band

the night nurse: I’m sticking with her as an assistant principal/in charge of attendance/some cog in the bureaucratic system. the band kids are all too familiar with her as they’re often incorrectly marked absent when they go to band practice during lunch/free periods, so getting called down to her office happens to everyone sooner or later. during the gang’s senior year she’s assigned to be directly in charge of the band (for whatever reason idk) which has her suddenly showing up to games and concerts. no one really likes this but they eventually warm to her. she tried the flute once when she was in school but wasn’t good right away so she decided it wasn’t for her

tragic mick: I’m again sticking to custodian but specifically the custodian that’s in charge of the practice field/band rooms/etc and is as such a beloved if cryptic figure in the greater band family. he played the tuba when he was in school but when asked says it’s been far too long to remember anything about it

kashi: hear me out, Kashi as the band director goes hard. like he’s eccentric, always has a grand story to tell, and is simultaneously good at making you laugh and at giving advice. his main instrument is something weird like the soprano saxophone or the euphonium or flugelhorn or harp, but as band director he’s learned most of not all of the instruments in the band over the course of his career

david the demon: percussionist. I take back what I said about the cat king dealing, david is 100% the sketchy dealer of the band. Is also older than the gang. was in the main and marching band but that’s it.

Lilith: superintendent. cryptid type figure. is the one responsible for the shit that goes down with Esther. showed up to exactly one concert and everyone is still losing their mind over seeing her in the flesh

I cannot remember her name but the lady who ran the gift shop: the choir director/theater teacher/eccentric English teacher. well known by the band kid population but not directly involved

the finality or whatever that character is called: prinicpal. directly in charge of the night nurse. surprisingly agreeable for how much bs/cruelty she oversees. her coming in right at the end of the series echoes her showing up to graduation and that’s it for out side of school hours

the ghost mail carrier: he mans the front office desk. will deliver messages over the intercom that always make people jump

extra info/plot points in a fic i doubt I’ll actually write:

monty and edwin get close after being sat near each other in orchestra and then working together during a chamber piece

thomas/the cat king is also older than the main gang. edwin is one of the underclassmen he cozies up to, but edwin never actually dates him

the charles and edwin dream duo imo is charles on trumpet say behind edwin on French horn, with both of them constantly making little comments just to make the other laugh/roll their eyes/react during practice/rehearsal. their senior year they end up being co-section leaders of upper brass but only after some serious begging on charles’s part

crystal has a major crush on jenny at one point

not a single person can stand esther finch, to the point that Kashi slips monty some flyers on different help resources and the other kids all let monty crash at different points when she’s angry

it’s at one point revealed that thomas/the cat king’s parents aren’t in the picture for some traumatic reason and he’s being raised by his grandparent(s), which most people accept as justification for his iffy behavior (it isn’t, for the record, but ive seen this situation happen exactly twice over in my band career and it lines up with him too well not to include)

crystal and charles date for a time and are the band’s it couple when they do. a handful of people don’t like it, but it’s mainly bc they’re jealous they missed their chance with one of the other ( cough edwin cough ) but it doesn’t end up lasting

david and crystal date when he’s a senior and she’s a freshman and it’s BAD. like she’s partaking in drugs she doesn’t fully understand and he’s enabling it/actively supplying it. it’s ultimately jenny who notices the spiral and talks some sense into crystal/gives her a semi-relatable authority figure to lean on. aforementioned crush happens during the chaotic period during/immediately following this. david stays in town and still deals post-graduation, so he shows up to high school parties and without fail creeps on crystal if she’s around. as such she starts avoiding parties, which is the final mail in the coffin of her mean girl era, leading to her befriending charles and niko (and eventually edwin) and made part of the gang

there’s a running joke/conspiracy theory that Kashi and the night nurse are in love with each other. it has been used to embarrass freshmen several times over the years. the night nurse actively denies it but kashi keeps it vague just for the fun of it

at one point when charles and crystal are dating and the four of them are already friends, someone starts a rumour/starts suggesting that niko and edwin should pair up. edwin isn’t openly out but his friends all know so they laugh about it (I also hc niko as aroace for a multitude of reasons i won’t get into here but I think that adds to the humor of it all)

when the band plays for a sport that Charles is on the team for they all go WILD when he’s mentioned by the announcer/scores/what have you. to the extent that there a specific chant/riff/cadence/whatever they start playing specifically for him. this eventually gets them in trouble on some big championship game and the band only stops/does it quieter so that charles doesn’t get in trouble over it

charles had a letterman’s jacket that he adds his band letter to (as well as some diying with pins and patches and such to make it more his style). he uses offering it as a way to flirt/show off his partner(s). it is very effective (to the chagrin of some of those partners who wouldn’t otherwise be caught dead in a letterman’s jacket, incl crystal and edwin)

monty initially charges the rich-asshole kids for readings until he’s caught and forced to stop. he then stops giving readings to anyone he doesn’t already know/like. he uses readings as a way to flirt with edwin, who literally doesn’t realise it for an extended period of time. monty keeps trying to flirt/ask edwin our, but by the time he hyped himself up for it the bell rings and the lunch period ends. they eventually go on one date, which edwin doesn’t realise is even a date (despite his friends insisting otherwise) until monty kisses him at the end of it. it’s awkward for a while afterwards but they eventually settle into a friendship

several other band kids place bets on when edwin and charles will finally get together. niko wins the bet, despite actively encouraging monty x edwin along the way. some say she’s biased being so close to them, but she openly admits that she wasn’t sure it would ever happen

may add to this post later but ive written wayyy too much for rn so we’ll leave it here

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦

˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — teacher!jeff skinner x teacher!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 2.4k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — their students decide to play matchmaker before a school dance; will their scheming pay off?

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — written to fill a short n sweet request last year for my patreon fic-mas <3 and if you catch the lil nod to two of our favs, you're a real one

“I know we’ve been having a hard time concentrating this week, which is understandable with all the excitement surrounding the Snowball Dance, but you do have one more day of work before you can totally kick back and check out,” Jeff Skinner, a high school social studies teacher, says after the tardy bell chimes.

The students are settling into their seats but listen intently.

He continues, “That being said, I will still be collecting your annotations for chapters eighteen through twenty that we started during Monday’s class. While I’m doing that, a sign-up sheet for the Unit 5 case study presentations will be floating around the room. If I were you, I’d grab the earliest slot available to get it over with and be done for the semester. But, hey, that’s just me!”

His twelfth-grade AP Government class meets this with a chorus of groans. A subset of students lightheartedly boo him from the back row. Oddly, though, the ruckus pleases him.

Mr. Skinner strives to create a classroom environment where the teens feel comfortable sharing their honest feelings and have the space to do so if they choose. Their vocal push-back signifies their trust in him. He also appreciates their mutinous spirit because it arose after their deep dive into the Declaration of Independence and its twenty-seven grievances; they were combative but in the name of freedom for the cohort and the individual. Jeff saw that as a Teacher Win.

“I know, I know. I’m a tyrant, and you hate me. But unlike this country, this classroom is a monarchy, not a democracy,” he returns the teasing. “And if you looked at our agenda when you walked in this morning, you would’ve seen that—because I am obviously the nicest person ever—I have allocated today’s class period to independent work time. So, you can complete whatever you may need. That means putting any final touches on this week’s chapters, polishing up your Supreme Court case PowerPoints with your partner or group, or finishing any outstanding assignments.

And if you recall, I give full credit for late work, so long as it's on my desk before the cut-off tomorrow at noon. You’re welcome." Sarcasm is his favorite—and most effective—bonding strategy. "If you're squared away, you know where the board games and art supplies are. Just no more explicit drawings. I don’t care, but Mrs. Benson next door does.”

The class laughs, fondly recalling the fiasco the day before Homecoming.

A couple of students decided to use their free time to create a few political illustrations. While they were historically accurate and objectively hilarious, they were not “school appropriate,” according to the 9th-grade Geography teacher who glimpsed the comic strips as she passed the open door.

She demanded Jeff punish the perpetrators for their vulgarity, but instead, he had the drawings laminated and bound into a resource book. Said book has since found a home on a bookshelf, wedged comfortably between Howard Zinn’s A Power Governments Cannot Suppress and The Words We Live By: Your Annotated Guide to the Constitution by Linda Monk.

In his peripheral vision, Jeff sees a student waiting by the door and invites them in. He segues, “Before I leave you to your own devices, it looks like we have a visitor from ASB. So, please be nice, give them your full attention, and don’t embarrass me. Capiche?”

The class agrees to comply, and the boy, an underclassman if he had to guess, hesitantly walks to the front of the room.

Jeff remembers how intimidating seniors felt when he was that age, so he gives his students a pointed warning over the kid’s shoulder. A few of them perk up, noticeably straightening in their seats.

“Good morning, everyone. I’m Leo, and I will be filling in for Gabby today.” He looks down at the printout of the day’s announcements and clears his throat. Then, Leo begins reading them aloud:

“Feeling stressed this finals season? Stop by the quad next week during both A and B lunch blocks to decompress with some therapy dogs. If you need further or individualized support, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson will be opening up their schedules for one-on-one sessions. Appointments can be made using the yellow slips in the main office.

Work permits are available in the career counseling hub. If you plan on getting a job or need to renew, please submit an application as soon as possible. No permits will be issued during Winter Break.

Remember that your final exam period is not the same as your regular meeting time or day, so be sure to check your portals this weekend for the updated schedule.

Still need a ticket for the Snowball Dance tomorrow night? Please stop by the ASB room or contact Owen Power, the senior class president, before sixth period today. They’re $15 with an ASB card and $20 without one. Trust me; you don’t want to miss out!"

The audience of seniors cheers, hooting and hollering out their delight. The underclassman beams, confidence swelling, and tucks the script away. His smile grows. “And now…drum roll, please!”

As the students bang their desks with open palms, textbooks, and stray pencils, the ASB student angles a pair of jazz hands towards the open door.

“Santa Claus!”

Peyton, the current school mascot—in an ill-fitting costume that's certainly older than he is—materializes in the empty space. He hauls a lumpy velvet bag over his shoulder as he saunters across the room. The tiny gold bells affixed to the sack twinkle with every step.

“Ho, ho, ho! Candy Cane Gram delivery!” Peyton bellows.

His impression is unexpectedly convincing, in Jeff's humble opinion.

“Santa” roots around in the bag and pulls the first set out. They’re paper-clipped together, indicating both were for the same person. “Taylor Zimmerman? Two for you!”

He passes the slips of paper back to the student who raised her hand.

The distribution of festive notes, an annual fundraiser put on by the junior and senior class councils to bankroll the dance itself, fades into background noise as Mr. Skinner begins looking over the pile of essays he collected last period from his squirrelly 10th-grade World History class.

The prompt had been to explore the impact of globalization in the post-Cold War era, and they’re off to a great start. The first essay's author touches on “transnational actors” and their impact on overall global wealth—in the introductory paragraph. Pride blooms in his chest. Maybe someone had been paying attention after all.

Jeff gets through three and a half papers—all 95% and above, but who’s counting?—before he feels someone standing over him.

“Uh, Mr. Skinner?” Peyton whispers in his civilian voice.

“Yes?” Jeff replies.

To mark his spot, Mr. Skinner sets his pen below a particularly eloquent paragraph highlighting how American consumer culture polluted local ecosystems abroad.

The sophomore nervously looks around the room. After deciding his peers were too engrossed in the social politics of sending and receiving Candy Cane Grams and Ice Court nomination speculation to hear, Peyton pulls a slip of paper out from inside the thick, red coat and sets it on Jeff’s desk. It’s crumpled, and the miniature candy cane is barely hanging on.

“This last one’s for you.”

“Oh, thank you very much,” Jeff smiles. The polite expression is meant to relieve the student from his classroom, but Peyton remains glued to his spot. Gently, he asks, “Is there something else I can do for you, Mr. Krebs?”

“Aren’t you going to see who sent it?” the boy asks, all toothy grin and twinkling eyes.

Well, that’s not at all suspicious, Mr. Skinner thinks as he slides the slip closer.

He scans the generic template, reading his name and room number scrawled beside washed-out festive clipart, but doesn’t understand the fuss... until his eyes drift down to the section for an optional message.

Mr. Skinner,

Just like a snowflake, you’re one of a kind. Be my date to the dance tomorrow night? It would make me SNOW happy!

Jeff almost believes it’s from you. Had he not been familiar with your handwriting, it would have been an excellent forgery. But, he knew your penmanship. Maybe a little too well.

His anchor charts were all in your hand; he could see at least three from where he was sitting. Jeff can’t recall the last time he attempted one on his own.

In exchange for mercifully sparing him from teenage ridicule due to his poor penmanship, he handled the construction and refurbishment of the props and sets necessary for the Winter Showcase and spring musical every year. Whatever you, the brilliant and beloved drama teacher, dreamed up, Jeff dutifully built.

Including, but not limited to, an impressive Audrey II, the iconic Venus flytrap from “Little Shop of Horrors,” a life-size bubble for their Glinda to float around in during performances of “Wicked,”  and the massive tire that anchors the dilapidated junkyard set for “Cats.”

He was ambivalent about musical theater when he bartered the informal contractor role, but Jeff grew to love it after a few years. Due in large part to your infectious passion.

He gives the mastermind—or masterminds, props for trying, though.

“Oh, wow!” Jeff exclaims, deciding to play along. Peyton's face brightens; there’s no way he’s not involved. “Out of respect, let’s keep this between you and me for now, okay?”

“O-of course, Mr. Skinner,” Peyton sputters, as though he’s shocked Jeff didn’t notice anything amiss or ask any follow-up questions. “That’s why I waited to give it to you. It felt too personal to announce in front of your entire class. Especially after the whole Homecoming thing.”

“Thing” wasn’t what he’d call it, but this kind of dramatic exaggeration was one of the many reasons he loved working with teenagers.

During a pep rally in October, the student body president crowned the two of you the faculty Homecoming King and Queen. Jeff wasn't even aware that was a thing he could win, and neither had you, but you bashfully accepted the titles and accompanying crowns in front of a thousand rowdy high schoolers anyway.

Later that night, you slow-danced to Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” under a sky of twinkling stars—clear fairy lights repurposed from the previous year’s "Camelot" canopy—black glitter tulle, and a plywood crescent moon.

The students lost their minds then and were yet to get over it. Obviously.

“I appreciate that,” Jeff says, biting back his amusement.

Peyton salutes him and hoists the sack over his shoulder again. He and Leo say their goodbyes and move on to the next classroom on their route.

The remainder of the school day was agonizingly hectic. So much so that it meddled with his plan to swing by the auditorium where you held classes.

His projector kicked the bucket in the middle of his lecture on the two-way exchanges collectively known as the Columbian Exchange; Jeff couldn’t get it back into commission until his prep period, so he would have to explain how the triangular trade route emerged from colonial mercantilism policies in the new year. His 9th-grade World Geography class refused to participate in the activity he organized to mimic the Arctic landscape and harsh climate, so, somewhat reluctantly, he cut his losses and threw on an episode of Where On Earth Is Carmen Sandiego? And right before his sixth period, some bored senior pulled the fire alarm, forcing the entire school to spend the glacial afternoon lined up in the parking lot.

All that said, it was safe to say Mr. Skinner had never been happier to see his driveway and his dog than he was this evening. The border collie shepherd mix, Chips—affectionately named as a tribute to the trained sentry dog who became the most decorated canine in the Second World War—is waiting on the porch. Joyously, he howls when Jeff gets out of his car.

“Hey, buddy,” he says as he reaches down to scratch between the pup’s ears. Chips jumps up, his muddy paws landing on Jeff’s coat. He begins licking his owner’s cheeks with reckless abandon. “Okay, come on, crazy dog. Let’s get you back inside.”

Immediately after Jeff opens the front door, Chips darts down the hallway. He chuckles, shaking his head as he sheds his coat and tosses his keys into the bowl by the door.

Jeff rescued his dog as he was wrapping up his undergraduate degree at NC State, and the two were as thick as thieves up until a few years ago.

That’s not to say anything happened or there’s bad blood; Chips simply found a new favorite person.

Jeff trails after Chips, following the furry tail and the delicious scent wafting from the kitchen. He makes a pit stop at the fridge to grab a beer before turning to address his successor to the rescue's heart, standing at the stove stirring a giant pot of soup.  

“You won’t believe what happened in my second period today, babe. Every day, I’m surprised by how bold teenagers are. Hell, when I was their age, I was petrified to sharpen a pencil without asking. Their latest scheme wouldn’t have even crossed my mind. Seriously, I don’t think you could guess what shenanigans they got up to if you tried.”

He's met with melodic laughter, a sparkly sound that still makes his heart skip a beat.

“Maybe not, but I don’t need to.”

Jeff’s brows knit together, confused. Then his eyes zero in on the slip of paper identical to the one in his back pocket.

If it were possible, his jaw could sweep the tile floor.

“Guess we aren’t as sly as we think,” you smirk, waving a counterfeit Candy Cane Gram of your own in the air like a white flag.

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[star3synth]

alright i think tumblr needs to know about my biggest Autism Moment because it’s a genuinely funny story.

for context this was last year when i was a senior in high school (i’m entering my second year of college now) and i was in my final semester taking a modern literature class, which was one of the required upper level english classes at my school.

so anyway. during that class at one point (probably earlier on in the semester) we get assigned an essay with a bunch of different prompts we could use that all connected back to the book we read, and one of the prompts was to connect a song to the text using a shared existensial theme.

normally i hate writing essays and they are the bane of my existence. however, my vocaloid special interest having ass saw that prompt and went “alright bet” and i seized my opportunity to yap about a vocaloid song for a grade. (the song that i ended up using was IDSMILE) i genuinely enjoyed writing this essay, which never happens, because of said special interest.

once i finished the essay (and i wrote most of it in one night which gets extra autism points) it had to be double spaced. the minimum page requirement for it was three pages. wanna guess how long mine was?

including the intro and conclusion, it was OVER NINE PAGES LONG DOUBLE SPACED. i was mentally apologizing to my english teacher when i turned it in. my teacher had to read through all of that and grade it.

also i rarely ever got A’s on essays because my english teachers were pretty harsh graders. the power of the Miku Autism got me an A on that particular essay somehow lol

[imjustdreamingig]

Run Away

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were never a shy person, until it came to talking to the boy you liked.

A/N: Well, this is my first time writing something like this so... please be nice. I was kinda tired of only seeing shy!reader stuff so I decided to base this on my personality. So yeah, kind of based on a true story. What reader does in this story I've actually done in real life which is mortifying. Anyways!!! This is just edited by me so lmk how I can improve and if I should write a part 2??? Maybe?? Idk. Enjoy!

PS: Robin and Steve work together, nothing monstery has happened, they're all in the same grade. It's a bunch of dumb teenagers together battling high school.

Warnings: sfw, cursing, fluff? people being dumb?? idk what else tbh

You've never considered yourself to be a shy person. In fact, you were very much so extroverted, never finding qualms in chatting to your classmates or asking you're teacher questions in class that some may think are stupid. You didn't care.

Aside from being a little nervous back in elementary school, that trait had dissolved as you got older, and it definitely wasn't present at the moment during your senior year at Hawkins High.

However. As much as you liked to claim to be unbothered with public speaking and your ability to make friends easily, there was one thing that you couldn't just quite get over, no matter how hard you tried. And quite frankly, it was getting old and ridiculous.

"Fuck, Robin he's coming down the hall," you exclaimed, "move, move, move, move!"

You didn't bother checking if she was behind you, already knowing she would be as you practically ran to your second period class. It was the first day of the new semester anyways, you could use the excuse of wanting to get good seats to justify your cowardice to yourself later tonight.

"Jesus Christ," you heard Robin mutter as she finally caught up to you, "You know I have asthma, I cannot keep doing this every time you so much catch a glimpse of Steve."

You slowed down your pace, your heart not feeling as though it would burst out of your chest anymore. You still sported a slight flush on your face from the thought of the almost encounter you had with the jock.

"I know, I know, this is getting so stupid. I promise next time I'll talk to him, I swear," you said as you sighed forlornly.

Robin turned to you with an unimpressed stare. "That's what you said last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, and yet here we are," she waved her hands dramatically.

Here's your problem. An issue that is a complete juxtaposition of your usual personality. The moment you've ever realized you have a crush on someone, you would run away from them anytime you saw them. Literally. You would full on sprint away in the opposite direction.

You've never really understood why this happens, only knowing that the second you saw your current crush, you're usual non existent nerves would make a prevalent appearance. You'd freeze and your eyes would widen as your brain chose the flight response when confronted with a potential dangerous situation.

"Look dingus, I love you and I think you're awesome and all that, blah blah blah, but this has got to stop," Robin stated as you both took your seats in your English class. "You're embarrassing me just as much as you're embarrassing yourself and our social status cannot take that much more of a beating."

You knew she was joking but just grunted in response, having buried your face in the crook of your elbow, not even bothering to open up your notebook. You heard Robin sigh and could tell she was rolling her eyes at you.

"You know..." Robin started, "I could always just...talk to him for you? Give him you're number or something during our shift at-"

Your raised your head immediately, almost giving yourself whiplash. "Robs, no way. We've talked about this before! I just - this situation is already awkward as it is, that would just make it worse."

"Hey, I'm just trying to help, but if you wanna suffer some more that's totally your choice." Robin says as she shrugs her shoulders. "Besides, with all that running your doing, at least you're getting some cardio in."

You let out as surprised squawk. "Robin come on! Not funny!" She doesn't reply, merely continuing to laugh at you. All you did was just groan in response again, settling your head in your arms once more.

A few weeks ago, you had been walking to your locker whilst attempting to shove a bunch of textbooks into your bag at the same time. Obviously, everything fell and it just so happened that Steve was nearby and helped you out.

"Oh my God, you don't have to, it's totally fine," you'd stammered, just the tiniest bit embarrassed of dropping your books in the middle of the crowded hallway.

"Don't sweat it, it happens to the best of us." Steve chuckled as he handed you your notebook.

And then it happened. The event that you frequently replay over and over in your mind, the event that kickstarted the affections you had for the boy.

Once everything was stored safely in your bag, Steve stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans. He then turned his attention to you and simply offered you his hand to help you up.

You stared into his big, brown eyes, completely dumbfounded. Here he was, an average man doing the absolute bare minimum and yet you still found yourself practically falling at his feet, your heart feeling as thought it was going to beat out of your chest.

"I- uh, I mean, thanks for the hand Steve," you stammered as you tentatively took his hand and pulled yourself off the floor. You cringed when you felt that it was sort of shaking and kind of clammy, hoping Steve wouldn't notice. "Both literally and figuratively."

You wanted nothing more than the ground to swallow you up after you blurted out those words. To your surprise, Steve let out a laugh, a genuine laugh. His eyes sort of crinkled and you could see the slight indent of a dimple. As if the man needed to get any more attractive in your eyes.

"It's no problem at all," he reassured you. "I'll be seeing you." He gave a quick wave and then turned in the direction of the cafeteria. Your hands tightened on the straps of your backpack as you watched him walk away, admiring the view.

Oh ew, you suddenly thought to yourself, now that was just pathetic.

Ever since that moment, you couldn't give yourself that last push you needed to talk to him. Even after the multitude of pep talks you give yourself in the mirror, including the ones from Robin, you still always ran away whenever you saw him.

You'd be a fool to think he didn't notice it and prayed he didn't mistake it for you hating him or something.

The sound of the bell signaling the start of class pulled you from your misery, forcing you to pay attention to your teacher so you didn't face the consequences of falling behind so early in the term.

Amidst your groveling, you'd failed to notice a particular brunet enter the class and take a seat at a desk a few rows behind you. Who knows what your reaction would have been if you did. Robin just kept her mouth shut, simply winking in Steve's direction when she caught his eye.

"Alright class, settle down and listen up," your teacher began. "I know it's the first day of the semester, but I wanted to introduce an assignment before anything else to make sure you have enough time to complete it and do an excellent job."

The entire class let out a collective groan, yourself included. How could she already be giving out assignments when she hasn't even properly introduced herself?

You turned to Robin, brows furrowed in annoyance. "I think she's got her agenda mixed up, she's introducing things in the wrong order."

"Fuck this, I should've taken Eddie's warning more seriously. Now I understand why everyone hates her," Robin gripped, running a hand through her cropped hair, already looking a little stressed.

You nodded in agreement and added, "I think I get why people hate English so much too."

Robin laughed. "But you'll still love it anyways, won't you?" she chided. Before you had a chance to reply, your teacher began speaking again.

"Settle down, please! If you listen, you'd hear that this not due until the last month of the semester and you'll be working in partners," she stated, "so not only will you have plenty of time to work on it, but you'll also have some help." You and Robin glanced at each other, hopefully smiles tugging at both of your faces.

"Your partners will be assigned by me," the whole class collectively groaned again, "which is what I'll be doing as we get through attendance. I'll explain the criteria before moving on."

"Yep, I think I hate this class at least a little bit now," you complained to Robin, already making a mental checklist of what school stuff you should at least start on later in the afternoon.

"-ohn Gilmore, Phoebe Burton, partners. Steve Harrington, Y/N Y/L/N, partners. Billy Holden, Rob-"

You froze for a second, as if you were glitching. Steve was in... this class? There was no way, you would have absolutely noticed him. But as you snuck a glance behind you, sure enough there he was, sitting in his chair, mindlessly twirling a pencil through his fingers. To your surprise, he was actually looking back at you too and- wait hold up, was he smirking?

You immediately spun back around, hand lurching to grip onto the sides of your desk. You then blinked a couple of time, praying your face wasn't as red as you felt like it was.

"Nope, nope, absolutely not. No thank you," you said as you shook your head from side to side. "Miss, this is a joke right?" you inquired out loud.

You were eventually going to talk to Steve, you were sure of it. The day was coming where you could have some sort of a conversation with him without running away, you could feel it. The moment was almost here.

Today, however, was absolutely not that day.

Just when you were about to complain to you teacher out loud again, you feel a presence behind you.

"Oh come on, you're already dismissing me as a terrible English partner? I'm wounded, seriously." The voice was laced in amusement. You did not need to turn around to know who it belonged to.

Before you could even think of a response, Robin turns to you, clearly finding your horror to the situation hilarious, and says, "Well, I think you're going to hate this class a little bit too."

Well fuck.

[writingcold]

Welcome to Chapter One and Two of Best Laid Plans!

A/N: This is not an easy story to read.  I feel I need to say that up front.  This follows Jake and Amanda across a twenty year journey when the story is fully told.  It is an AU, set during the 1980’s, though the era plays very subtly in the story itself.  This is a sad, angsty read with little pockets of happiness and tenderness.  

The story is a simple one - Jake and Amanda fall in love over the course of a summer before her first semester of college.  But for all of their planning, their young love takes a turn and sets them both on a course that is not the path they could never have expected.  It is the first story in a long time that I have tried to write in first person - a little different!

I’ll be posting in two chapter increments, every Wednesday.  At least that is the current plan!  BLP is a finished work, so there will be no disruption in postings.

This is a complete fiction - totally made up.  I do not, nor will I ever know Jake or any member of GVF.  That said, this story is mine.  Please respect that.

A tremendously huge thank you to @takenbythemadness for being my eyes on this.  She took so many bullets as I honed this story into what it is.  I owe her drinks and lots of boxes of tissues.  💚Love you, my friend.

Content warnings: Angst.  Pregnancy.  Poverty.  

Word count: approx. 9700

Chapter 1: December, 1981: Amanda POV

     My feet could not be still.  They bounced and kicked, shimmied and banged against the counter and stool of Blaine’s Diner.  My heart felt like it was going a million times a minute in a threat to jump out of my chest as I tried like hell to keep a calm exterior.  Cindy watched me as she moved around, filling cups and ushering plates in and out of the kitchen.  Her bright smile seemed to curve all the more every time she drew close to me, coffee pot in hand in a silent ask if I needed more.  The answer, of course, was always a nod.  My fingers would instantly wrap around the warmth of the putty colored mug as the stream of molten liquid refreshed the pottery.

     “Jake must be getting home, yeah?”  Cindy asked as she worked to make fresh coffee.  “Did you have a good semester?”

     “It was fantastic,”  I answered, my body practically vibrating over the notion that his name had been uttered around me.  “Jake got in last night, actually, so…”

     A soft laugh warmed my skin as she reached over and patted my arm.  “It’ll be good to see you together again.  I’ve got a good feeling about you two.”

     Cindy had had a front row seat to the burgeoning romance that was between me and Jake.  We had spent countless hours within Blaine’s, downing coffee and spinning plans the likes only new love could create.  She flitted off to help another table, leaving me alone in my excitement.  Jake had been my high school crush.  I was new to town my freshman year and my eyes landed on him the very first day of school.  He was a senior, forced to show new students around.  Although he was nice through the whole tour, I could see how he was annoyed by the end.  I had stayed towards the back of the group of eight kids, just listening to him explain the layout, giving little hints about how the bell schedule seemed to give us an extra minute between the fourth and fifth periods, which teachers were cool and which were not, and when to avoid the school lunch.  He held the door open for us when it was time to get back to the office.  When I passed him, he smiled.  It wasn’t one of those mean ‘hurry up so I can get away from you all’ smiles either.  He was not the cutie pie high school boy.  He wasn’t tall, dark and handsome, either.  He was only a bit taller than me, with his shaggy hair all unkempt and dark eyes positively glittering as he had smiled the kind of smile that tugged at one corner of his mouth more than the other.  He and his twin brother, Josh, were not the most popular, but they seemed to be everywhere and attached to everything - together.

      I carried that smile with me all through that year.  It was stupid and girlish, but despite all the typical teen drama that happened, seeing Jake smile brought me a comfort that I did not understand at the time.  I would run into him during drama and band classes, as well as all the different productions that we put on that year.  I was a little distraught when he graduated.  He had plans of going to Loyola on a music scholarship, while his twin was headed to New York for film school.

     My youthful angst over not seeing Jacob Kiszka was fierce as the summer expired and the new school year started.  My friends were loud and obnoxious and full of being sixteen, or close to it.  I was the first to get my license and thus drove everyone everywhere - including parties, practices and games.  I had my first kiss that year by Robbie Parker.  Am I embarrassed that I pictured that it was actually Jake giving me that kiss - just a little.  Robbie was sweet, but my heart belonged elsewhere.  

     My crush only increased over the remaining years of school.  The Kiszka family was incredibly tight knit.  Jake would be there for nearly every play (maybe not opening night, but at least be there for one performance), and every big event for his siblings.  Senior year was my year to wonder.  The last of his siblings had graduated.  I was still carrying the torch, though.  I could not really explain why.  I did see him in passing during  the holidays while I was gift shopping with Jenni and Mel.  But it was at Martin’s during Spring Break that had left me breathless as I smacked right into him as I was leaving and he was walking in.  I was so embarrassed that I didn’t even look back after he tried to make sure I was okay.  All I could think was how good he smelled.  Ugh.

      I was at Marni’s graduation party when the friends decided they had had enough of the adults having all the fun and wanted to head out to the river for the rest of the night.  There were rumors of a bonfire and keg.  We piled into my ancient microbus and bounced our way down to the other side of the golf course, out into the woods where no one lived.  By the time we got out to the party, it was all swamped with football players and jocks of all kinds, along with cheerleaders, band geeks, and the Kiszkas.  My eyes pasted themselves instantly to Jake as he stood talking with Josh and Sam along with a few from my class.  I tried to be normal.  I really did.  I swear I was not gawking, but Jake looked different that night.  He looked like a man with his hair pulled back and scruff on his chin.  Marni practically threw me under my own bus when she screamed - full assed screamed - a hello in their direction.  Fortunately, everyone just chalked it up to Marni being Marni, probably drunk off her butt and it was only 10:20 in the evening.  

      We danced around the bonfire and dug our toes in the river mud and laughed when people started to fall into the icy water.  As the night wound down, I noticed that Jake was close to my group, his eyes straying to me.  Me.  I chanced a smile and a hello.

     “Amanda, right?”  he asked as he smiled that smile that I had held dear for four years.

     “Yeah.  Jake, right?”  I mimicked with a way more confident nod than I realized.  I heard Marni start to downright cackle as he took my hand. 

     “Happy graduation,”  he said with a smile, completely ignoring my obnoxious friend.

     We fell into conversation immediately.  He was all about Chicago and what he was learning.  He wanted to know my plans - where I was planning on heading off to for school or otherwise.  Our conversation was like breathing.  Our words were normal and filled with fun and laughter and something that I would come to realize was promise by the end of the summer.  We had traded numbers at the end of the night.  I watched as he wrote his number on my forearm - the way he held my wrist and blew against the ink to make sure it didn’t smudge.  He stood in the road as I drove my half passed out friends into the dawn’s light and called me two hours later to say good morning.

     The summer had been magical.  Every moment I wasn’t working at the grocery and he wasn’t working at Martin’s Music, we were together.  It was like Jake and I were magnets that needed to be together.  My parents were a little concerned about how much time I was spending with him and voiced it after they caught us making out behind the dugout on the school baseball fields.  Jake found himself in a long conversation with my dad without me present.  That was weird.  

      When summer was screaming to a close, my whole being was amped up to eleven.  I was getting ready for school and things got serious.  I was in love.  I knew it.  I voiced it.  I had never said ‘I love you’ to anyone besides my family.  I was rewarded with silence.  Just when I thought my heart couldn’t take it, he kissed me.  Jake kissed me and held me and treasured me and lulled me, and finally set me on fire with words of love the likes I was sure no one had heard pass his lips before.  

     Instead of dreading what was to come, we planned.  We planned every instance of every week, planning for calls, planning for visits during the holidays, planning for the future.  When we parted - me to Dearborne and him to Chicago - we had an idea of what our schedule would look like.  We spent the last days wrapped up with each other.  We were happy.  We talked about the future and how it looked for us.  We decided, together, that we could flourish.

      College had not been as easy as I thought it would be.  My schedule was crazy and hard and I had no one to turn to but myself.  Jake called me at the dorm every Tuesday and Saturday afternoon.  We’d write.  Before I knew it, mid-terms were kicking my ass and Thanksgiving was right around the corner.  Though I had hoped that he would make it home, the possibility of him picking up a week’s worth of gigs had become a reality and too good to pass up.  So, we promised that the holidays would be extra special.  That was what had led me to be in Blaine’s, waiting for Jake.

     “Just the Two of Us” started to pipe through the radio.  The happiness in my body doubled.  Cindy paused as I could no longer hide the smile that graced my mouth.   She took a chocolate chip cookie from the tray and set it before me with a wink.  

     “If that boy doesn’t get here soon, I’m afraid you’re going to explode,”  she teased.  “That’s on me because if it gets any sweeter, I’m going to go into a coma.”

      The chime on the door filled my ears and I felt his gravity pulling me - all of me - with force.  Jake walked through the door and I knew everything was… off.  His eyes sparked for a moment like usual, but then it was gone.  He walked slowly, his body rigid like he was dreading to talk to me.  Cindy was waiting at the counter for him.  The look in her eye matched my own.  The happy that had been in my gut turned to steel wasps as he paused with a hard swallow.

      “Can I get a coffee, please?”  he asked, his voice halting.

      “How about menus?”  Cindy asked as she reached for a fresh mug.

      “Just the coffee today, thanks,”  he said softly, his gaze shielded.  “Would it be all right if we sat in that booth over there?”

       Cindy nodded with a smile that did not meet her eyes.  I watched as he grabbed hold of my mug and walked away without a touch, a smile, anything that would convey the warmth that should have been present.  I felt my once excited feet shuffle forward.  The apprehension that poured out of my brain, I could taste it in my mouth.  He may not have waited for me at first, but he did wait until I arrived at the table before he sat down across from me.  He barely could hold my gaze as he seemed to find it difficult to get comfortable.

      “You look good,”  he said, finally after taking several sips of his coffee.  “How’s your family?”

      “They are well.  Grandma should be getting in tomorrow with Aunt Rose from their trip from Florida,”  I said, attempting to sound like I did not notice how he seemed to skirt looking directly at my face.  “How’s your folks?  Josh coming in from New York?”

      He nodded as he fidgeted with the handle of his mug.  “They’re good.  Josh drove up with me.  He’s already fighting with mom over which cookies to make.”

      I could feel it.  Jake was visibly upset, but I could feel the soured air between us.  I felt my lip tremble as I realized that he wasn’t just struggling to look at me, but was physically restraining himself.  This.  Whatever this was, I had felt it before but in a much smaller venue.  This was like when Robbie kissed me then a few days later said he didn’t like me anymore.  What stung for moments returned to my body.  Every nerve ending was paused, waiting for the shot that I suddenly knew was coming across my bow.

      “Mandy, you must understand that this summer meant everything to me,”  he started, each word fighting to get out of his mouth as if his lips were fighting against him.  

      My jaw felt like jello as my stomach rolled around like I had a bad case of flu.  His body seemed to bend away from his own thoughts.  The sight made my brain stand up in anger.  The skin around my eyes felt like it consisted of pulsing drums as I shifted in the seat.

      “I’m not understanding what’s happening, Jake,”  I said as I tried to reach across the table.  

      The words started to fall out of his mouth, but my ears fought against hearing them.  It was like every third or fourth or fifth was striking right when finally, finally my brain allowed one single word to penetrate - pregnant.  Everything became laser focused and my body shored itself up like it was about to be run over by a hurricane of maximum force.

      “When did this happen?”  I asked, my voice foreign to my brain.

      “Thanksgiving.  I knew I was drinking too much.  I knew it,”  he whispered, the anger towards himself bruising the softness of my own heart.  “I didn’t mean for it to happen.  Mandy, I fucked this up so bad.  I didn’t mean it.  I just…  I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

      My back was straight.  Completely opposite of the way it felt like from the inside.  My stupid jaw wouldn’t stop quivering as he continued to talk, but each word brought me closer to vomiting up the gallon of coffee that sloshed around my stomach.

     “I have to do what is right,”  he whispered, his eyes looking glassy with tears.  

     I watched in shock as he stood up, fetching a couple of dollars from his pocket to lay down on the table to cover the ticket and tip.  I realized then, there was no noise in the diner.  It was like the few tables that were occupied knew what was happening between us.  Jake leaned in close.  The smell of his cologne, his smell that I so had welcomed and had missed, invaded my senses.

      “Understand that I love you,”  he whispered.  “It’ll always be you, Amanda.  I know I messed this up.  My mistake.  I’ll always love you.”

      He kissed the ridge of my cheek.  I could feel his mouth trembling as he planted a ghostly kiss into my skin.  He did not withdraw quickly.  He hovered.  The click of his teeth chattering in his head was like nails in my heart.  His pain was palpable, bleeding into my own in a perfect storm of …  It was a perfect storm of…  Distance.

      He was gone.  My Jake was gone.  I felt the first tear strike my face and I wiped it away with a whimper.  Cindy approached, a wad of tissues in her hand and a reassuring touch to my shoulder.

      “Take as long as you need, sugar,”  she whispered, her fingers pressing gently into the sleeve of my sweater.

      In the matter of moments, my world was tilted to the side, kicked down the road and incinerated before my eyes.  Jake was supposed to be ‘it’ for me.  We had talked futures.  We planned everything.  We had had sex.  Oh my goodness the sex.  But we had taken care of each other - we talked about it and made sure we were careful.  I was important to him, he cared for me deeply, just as I cared for him, and he was…

Jake POV

     I sat in my car for hours after the diner.  What I had to do was hard enough, but to see it etched and blistered across her eyes killed me.  The last thing I ever wanted to do was to harm her.  The last thing I ever wanted to do is to face any time without her.  And yet, there I was, getting drunk in the front seat of my father’s car, alone, beyond confused at how something so stupid could have happened.  

     Junior year had been difficult.  It was even worse than my sophomore year.  I felt lost.  I enjoyed classes for the most part.  The work was hard, but manageable.  I enjoyed the gig work that I was able to drum up - and the job in the record store was great.  It was harder making friends.  Chicago was huge and might as well have been another planet compared to Frankenmuth.  Dorms were not for me.  It was too easy to get into trouble.  Too much booze, too many girls, too much of everything.  Getting that apartment with Derrick, even though it was crappy and in a shit building, was huge.  But it also allowed for more distraction than I had planned on.  If there was a way to ignore the entire year, even though I passed all my classes - barely - I would gladly do so.

      I didn’t want to go to that party.  Sam insisted.  He was all hopped up on his own stellar freshman year at Stanford.  Josh was doing amazing things at NYU.  Ronnie was killing it at Ann Arbor.  Then there was me.  I was in a position of losing my tiny little scholarship, and felt like I was squandering my parent’s money, as well as my own.  So, to go to a party with freshly graduated high school students was not high on my list of shit to do.  But then she was there.  Amanda Fischer.  She was adorable with a capital ‘A’.  She had been that kind of quiet pretty girl in high school that went unnoticed until she clobbered you with a smile that you were sure you did not deserve.  And there she was, with the same band of friends that she had been with since she had moved to town my senior year.  She watched over them like a mama hen, making sure everyone was having fun, but staying safe.

      She was like the sun.  Her laugh was music and I found myself drawing closer to her as the hours ticked by.  She was friends with everyone.  I finally found myself next to her and felt stupid when I pretended to not know her name. My heart pounded heavily when she said my name.  We talked like old friends instantly even though that had not been the case.  Our spheres had crossed and touched, but never really had I talked with her.  At the time, I wondered why that was.  She was a drama and music kid.  She was always around the fringes of my own group in school.  And yet…  

     We found ourselves tucked on a huge boulder on the edge of the river, just down a bit from the party.  I got to know her.  Everything.  She was so ready to laugh and ask questions and challenge me in my own thoughts.  I was hooked even before I was writing my number across her arm.  In my brain, I was already marking her as my own, but in truth, I was signing myself over to her.  

      The summer left me stunned.  Mandy was my drug and she made me better just in her presence.  I could see forward so clearly as to what was to come.  Everything was leading me to this, and I wanted to be a man for her.  I wanted to shelter and care for her, and wanted her to care for me and shelter me.  I dreamed of family and that big house on Birch Street, and growing old with her, learning all of her secrets and desires and just everything.  

     I returned to school revitalized.  Mandy had provided me with purpose and direction.  All was going better than ever before.  I picked up studio time for a couple of albums of little known blues and rock and roll artists.  I picked up more gig time on the bar circuit, too.  I played rhythm guitar for The Wringer on Tuesdays and Wednesdays at Odd Fellas Club, while Friday and Sundays was at the Blue Room with Three Broken Strings Band.  It afforded me to put away enough to increase my partner buy-in with Henry for Martin’s Music Shop.  Baird’s Records and Music was flexing my hours to spend more time in management, while Archer Studios invited me to sit with a variety of producers to observe their work.  It was going in the manner that my dreams had begged for, and it was all for her.

      I shone at midterms.  My adviser had even been surprised when I had shown up on time to our little meeting in regards to whether or not I was going to graduate on time.  The music director was impressed about the studio time, then presented me with an opportunity that I knew I could not say no to.  I could not wait for Thanksgiving and getting home to see Mandy.  To be close to her.  To be with her.  It would be a solid grand to play as a fill-in for a blues outfit for the ten days during the break - two shows a day at a venue three times the size the bars I was used to playing.  When I called and talked with Amada about it, she was over the moon for me.  We promised each other that Christmas would be all the more special in our reunion.  My roommate, Derrick, could not return home for the holiday and invited me to a dinner party to be held in our own apartment.  He had rounded up a handful of misfits to enjoy a dinner that lined up with the end of the show for Thursday evening.  How could I refuse?  I was already walking around like I had all the breaks suddenly pulled for me and life after graduation was going to be perfect.

     I came home in a haze of cigarette smoke and beer.  Derrick was corralling the group, which was supposed to only be ten people, but ballooned to twenty seven bodies crammed into the living and dining room.  When I walked in, it was hard not to continue that haze into a full blown feed bag of food and booze.  Most of the faces around me I had known, but there were a few new ones.  While I manned the sink when it was time for dish duty, a girl from the arts department was my drying partner.  Her name was Georgia and she loved listening to my stories about back home, my plans, and the - according to her - swoon-worthy romance with my girl.  

      I managed the music while Derrick was the best host he could be the rest of the night.  The morning brought my head down through a blur that held a weight on the skin of my back.  I was face down on my pillow.  At first, it felt like a fleeting dream of Mandy and those times that I had woken to find her all wrapped up in me and my bed and our love.  But the weight that felt ghostlike in between my shoulder blades did not dissipate when I shifted.  Instead, a heat was released, instantly striking into my side like a bomb.  My eyes flew open to find a splash of bleach blonde hair was mingled with my own.  The absolute shock that flooded every nervous system helped me to launch my body from the bed, taking the thin comforter with me.  

     Georgia groggily lifted her head, instantly making a face that indicated pain from a hangover.  She pulled her naked body up, tucking her legs under her as she visibly struggled to figure out where she was.  I panicked, fumbling in my search for my pants, coming up with nothing but her lingerie and skirt until finally, my pants close to the door.  I was stuffing my legs through the fabric as she started to laugh.

      She scoffed as she pushed her hair back in what seemed like an attempt to be normal.  “Shit, this was a mistake.”

      “No shit,”  I grumbled as I struggled with the button on my fly.  “What the hell happened?  How the fuck…”

      She laughed.  Outright laughed.  My stomach threatened to empty all over her as she slid from the bed to gather her clothes.  She stumbled from my room, right in front of Derrick and shut herself into the bathroom.  The heat that flooded my face and neck was enough to roast the sun.  And then it hit.  I had betrayed Mandy.  I had slept with that woman and had taken every shred of trust that my love had bestowed upon me and set it on fire.  The sound that burbled through my throat was foreign.  And then she was gone.  No other words were spoken.  She left me there in my own guilt.

      Josh flew to Chicago for an extended layover before getting back to school out east.  I had told him that I would fetch him. I couldn’t leave my room.  I could hear Derrick in the front room talking with him as I sat in the corner, eyes burning from grief.  My brother sat with me while my roommate disappeared to give me space.  I was heartsick.  I couldn’t hide the tears.  I couldn’t stop the venom for myself from spilling out between us.

      Somehow, he put me back together enough to make my gigs for that night.  He sat at the side of the stage, insisting that once I had myself started that things would level out - that I would be able to put things right with my Amanda.  And he was right.  I knew that I needed to tell her what had happened - not that I actually remembered anything.  Josh left early the next day with assurances that I just needed to stay the course and keep my shit together.  Mandy was everything.  She knew she was everything.  It was a mistake.  It could be a mistake that could be lived through.

      In the few weeks that flowed by between Thanksgiving and the winter holiday break, I had done just as Josh suggested.  I kept my nose down, worked my ass off both in class, and at the record store and my night gigs.  I kept to myself, turning down invites to go to the bars and hang out with friends beyond school.  

      December twentieth had rolled around.  Derrick was once again manning the apartment for those who could not return home for the holidays.  I set a stack of new records on the record player for him before I finished packing for my fast break from the likes of Chicago.  He had drifted out with a wave on his way to work and a thanks for the music.  Josh was arriving on the red eye.  The plan was that I was going to pick him up and drive home - arriving in time for breakfast with the family.

      It was after ten thirty when the knock came at my door.  I found Georgia in the grimy hallway, disheveled and looking upset.  I told her that Derrick was at work and I was on my way out to get her to go on her way.  

      “I’m pregnant,”  she said quietly, her dark eyes filled with tears.  “I’ve not been with anyone but you for months.”

      Just when my heart thought it couldn’t take more, I found that it exploded out my mouth and through the top of my head.  It was like all my bones were made of rubber and betrayed me in my quest to leave.  The words that wanted to come out of my mouth did not.  I should have questioned.  I should have handled things better.  Instead, I watched as my life with Amanda Fischer flew away.  Everything was decided before she left.  After the shock turned to a crispy mess at my edges, I knew.  I was going to have to figure it all out along the way, but life was not going to be what I wanted it to be.

      Josh drove us home.  The moment I saw him in the airport, he knew.  He professed that he knew shit had hit before he landed.  His face told me that he was keenly aware that I was wrecked.  We talked all through the drive.  Well, I cried through it, while he assured me that it would be well.  The family would throw their full support behind me.  I would not fail in this.

      The bottle at my side did little to make me feel like I was doing what was right.  I was doing what my family expected.  I would take care of this woman I did not know.  I would take care of the child in her belly that she said was mine from a night that I do not remember.  The disappointment that was in my father’s face was nearly as bad as the betrayal that showed in Amanda's eyes.  My mother was sick with worry.  The fury that she felt edged them all.  I had let everyone down and now I was going to show that I could be redeemed through marrying a stranger and doing right by my child.

Chapter 2: June, 1982: Amanda POV

     If you were to ask how I survived freshman year, I would simply tell you I had no choice but to bury myself in school.  I landed a job in the student bookstore in February, and took a weekend shift at the public library.  I deliberately shoved my brain into places it was busy so as not to have to think of anything except for the tasks before me.

     I could be found in the darkest hours, cursing myself for foolish tears that would somehow appear on my cheeks.  I was bleeding out.  My whole world was bleeding out and I had no idea what would be left if the hurt ever vacated my system.  I refused to broadcast my troubles.  How weak must I have appeared walking from class to class, feeling very much like parts of me were just gone, or rotting upon my sleeve.  My heartache did not keep my bosses from giving me positive feedback in my work.  It did, however, keep me in the shadows of parties and study groups and anything that required me to expose my wounds and false smiles.  By March, I found that every breath was not weighted.  Every muscle no longer felt frozen.  I found myself being able to talk to others without fumbling my words.

      Jake was to be at the forefront of everything I was doing.  To have my compass ripped away, tossed me into a current I was not nearly ready for.  But somehow, by some microscopic miracle, I survived.  I felt like I had a whole heart.  It was held together with rubber cement and sticky tape, but it felt whole once more.  I found myself heading out with my dorm friends to the end of the term parties and feeling a smile push its way back onto my face and words of future plans flying from my mouth like I meant them.

      When it was time to return home, I hesitated.  Jenni, my younger sister, said that she had seen Jake working at Martin’s Music all the way back in January.  To think that he was not in school hurt.  To know that he was already home, and with her on my home grounds, made me drag my feet.  I had my summer jobs lined up - once again working at the grocery, but also a few days in the library.  The hours would keep me fairly busy.  And friends from high school had already reached out, providing a safety net of sorts in the downtime.

      Home seemed smaller when I dropped my bag in the entry hall.  Mom and Dad were ecstatic to see me.  Jenni and Mel nearly tackled me.  Home may have felt smaller, but it felt good.  To have a home cooked meal and faces that I loved being so close was healing.  

     “Family picnic next Saturday,”  dad had announced as my sisters and I were working on the dishes.  “You are expected to be there.”

      We rolled our eyes playfully but knew from the authority in his tone that there would be no excuses taken to miss said picnic.  The week went well.  I was in the bakery at the grocery store, so most of the time, I was covered in sugar and flower and a sticky hairnet, but could have the radio on as loud as I wanted and danced like I didn’t care.  The library put me on the circulation desk and shelving books.  It wasn’t hard, but felt like my eyes were constantly searching for any evidence that Jake was indeed still living in town.  My heart struggled on both thoughts - that he did not finish school and was living in town - or maybe he decided not to follow through with his plans of partnering with Henry Martin at the music shop.  Both paths were not right and picked at the drying glue beads on my heart.

      Saturday started beautifully.  The city park was a jewel that straddled the river, meandering lazily with sport fields and monkey bars and slides and horseshoe pits.  The weather was crisp and perfect and drew out so many to enjoy the early summer day.  I had found a smile.  All the aunties and uncles and grandparents had ventured out to join us.  Jenni and I were running around with the littlest of cousins while Mel took her spot helping Mom organize the food.  I felt like a kite, bouncing between constricted fingers, ready to take off to be part of my own sky.  Not that my family was holding me down, but the time was coming for me to make my own way.  I could feel it in my skin as I spun little Zach around in my arms.

      I was distracted by Aunt Mary for a few moments as she waved for me and Jenni to move close together for a picture.  Next thing I knew, Zachary was booking it towards the riverbank just as fast as his little three year old legs could carry him.  I sprinted after him, the breath heavy in my chest with the thought that I may not be fast enough.  The boy’s peels of laughter shot me full of fear that he would lose his footing and fall into the fast moving water.  I swooped in just before he started to turn direction.  Instead of scolding though, I laughed with the boy as I lifted him up and over my shoulder in a show of play rather than fear.

      We giggled and laughed as I teased him, all the while I was walking us back towards safety.  He deftly shimmied his way across my back for a piggy back ride, his little hands taking hold on my shoulders and chin and neck.  I felt a ray of happy strike my chest.  

      “Amanda?”  

      I stopped in my horseplay with Zach to find Jake standing with a heavily pregnant woman.  He looked exhausted with dark smudges beneath his eyes.  His hair had been chopped short - shorter than he had ever had it before.  I of course noticed the matching gold plated bands right away on their hands with an eye that I hoped was not shocked.  There was no smile on his mouth and it hurt to see the corners turning downward.

     “Hello, Jake,”  I managed to say in a normal voice despite my insides sloshing around like I was on rough seas.  “How are you?”

     “Good.  Good,”  he said even though the corners of his eyes pinched in the way that made me know without a doubt that things were not good.  “Uh, this is Georgia.”

      The woman at his side was pretty in that make-up sort of way, though she looked sour in the late term of her pregnancy.  I smiled the best I could.  My eyes met his gaze for a moment, but it was enough.  It was like my heart flew apart at the realization that there was no joy in him - not any more.  I couldn’t force any words past my lips.  Fortunately, Zach must’ve picked up my unease and started to fuss against me, yanking my hair to move.

      “I better get going,”  I said, hoping that he did not hear the quiver in my voice.  “It was good to see you Jake, Georgia.”

      I took a few steps before getting Zach down so that he could run ahead of me back to the family corner.  I tried my hardest to keep my shoulders strong and my back straight, but I felt like jello by the time I got to Jenni.  Her eyes were trained over my shoulder as I’m sure she was watching the couple continue to walk down the path.

     “I have to go,”  I whispered to keep my voice from cracking.

     Jenni nodded as she drew in a sharp breath.  “I’ll keep you covered with the folks.”

     I slithered away, out of the park to my waiting bus.  The microbus didn’t want to start at first - almost as if hoping that what it saw was not Jake with another woman.  The flash of memory crossed my mind of my first time with Jake in the back of the vehicle I sat in.  The way he had held me, took care of me.  He may not have been my first, but he damn sure made it feel like he was going to be my last.  I gulped as I backed the bus up and made my escape.  The feel of his hands echoed across my body as I fought to keep in a jagged sob.  The words that he whispered as he worshiped my skin punched and kicked in my belly as my vision blurred.  

      I missed second gear as I shifted, the engine giving a jolt over my mistake.  It was enough to rattle me back to what I was doing.  The tears were hot on my flesh as I rushed to wipe at them.  Home felt like a dollhouse as I parked the bus and tumbled through the door.  I discovered that my shared room with Jenni was little more than a little girl’s fantasy.  Her unbroken, full of wonder heart’s pixie dust and magical dreams etched into every inch of walls, carpet and ceiling.  It resided in every book, every poster, every piece of art.  My feet carried me right to the bookcase.  Jenni had covered it with one of her cowgirl hats, but the journal was there - untouched, unmoved from when I had laid it to rest at Christmas.  The dark navy cover with little imprinted silver stars called out for my fingers to reach up and retrieve it.  

     The corner of my mouth flinched as the cover popped and the spine cracked as if in warning of what I was about to see.  Its pages were filled with little girl desires, goals, plans.  Words wrapped in shakily drawn hearts and clouds as she wrote out her deepest events with Jake.  There were pictures and mementos and sketches and memories of a forever that would never happen.

      A picture drifted to the floor.  The sound of his laugh filled my ears as I bent to pick it up.  He wore those short red swim trunks that day with a baseball hat, his hair sticking out from beneath it in all different directions.  We spent the whole day on the river, tubing, just the two of us.  It was the first time he had said he wanted me…  He wanted me that way.  He had been lost in thought, playing with my fingers and he just said it.  No smile.  No laugh.  No nothing but the words and the weight that followed felt like he had captured me like a butterfly, so careful not to bend my wings.  He was beautiful in that moment.  He was a man giving me a glimpse of a life that I so desperately wanted with him and him only.

      I was surprised that I was no longer crying as I traced the line of his arm in the picture.  I puffed out a breath like I was blowing out stale air from the attic.  I tucked the picture back into the diary and returned it to its resting place.  It was a little girl’s refuge and would stay that way.  These were memories of a better time and I just needed to accept what was instead of what could be.  The exhaustion of the moment pressed down on me and I was ready to release it.  I could say goodbye to Jake.  I would say goodbye to Jake.

Jake POV

     The day had started just as every other day had since everything had so drastically changed.  Instead of waking up in my tiny assed room in the shared tiny assed apartment with Derrick, I woke up in my tiny assed room in the shared tiny assed apartment with Georgia.  I was able to procure the living space above the accounting office downtown.  Of course, Mr. Moser, the accountant, was a total prick about everything.  Walk across the floor any time during office hours could result in a call that we were being too loud.  School was done - for both of us.  A fact that I was reminded of often.  I was working my ass off, sometimes finding that I was ‘home’ for six hours or less at any given stretch.  Mr. Henry was happy to let me come on full time right away at the music shop.  I also picked up weekend shifts at the papermill.  It still wasn’t enough to cover the medical bills, so I also was a substitute night janitor at the school.  I was lucky to sit a few minutes before each stretch of job.

      The pregnancy had not been an easy one.  Most days, Georgia could only go between the bed to the gross couch I was able to lift off my parents from the garage, to the bathroom.  Most days, her mood was foul, so me being at work all the time was not totally a bad thing.  Maybe a selfish thing, but not bad.  

      I married her the second week of January.  Mom was beyond pissed and Dad was disappointed.  Georgia had no ties to her family.  She did not have any friends that attended the services, either.  Josh was worried.  Ronnie and Sam were baffled.  And I was in mourning.  But I was doing what was right.  I was going to provide a home and family for this child that was to be mine.  I could be that man - that man that took responsibility for his shit.  There was no love in this relationship.  Some days, I wondered if there was any respect to it.  Minute by minute could be a struggle.  The arguments were steady with her lamenting that she was no better than her mother - she’d wind up stupid with a horde of kids she hated and a man…

     She often stopped short at that part.  I would be gone before she could finish the sentiment anyway.  I was not one of those men and she damn well knew it.  The doctor suggested that she needed to move to ease the stress on her body.  I had taken to walking with her when I had time between jobs.  Saturday mornings before I had to get over to Martin’s for a few lessons, followed by my twelve hour shift at the mill was one of the few times that I could walk her through the park.   

     With the end of the school year, I knew that I would have to address the fact that Mandy would be returning home.  I would have to acknowledge the wound that was refusing to heal within my chest. I was in no shape to see her dancing with her cousin in the sunshine that morning.  I flew apart at my seams the moment my eyes landed on her.  

        Mandy was the kind of beautiful that I could read like a song title, with notes that were delicate and fierce and…  And there she was before me.  Her raven hair tied back in a thick, glossy braid, with little stray wisps that kissed around her neck and face.  To hear the twinkle of her laugh filled my skin with an energy that I had been desperate for.  The instant pain that flickered through her features clawed open the flimsy stitches on my soul.

     Georgia felt it - the hard gravitational pull that Amanda had upon me.  I was sure of it.  Her body was instantly rigid and her breath was tight.  It was not lost on me that she said not a word to Mandy after I introduced her.  By the time we got home, she was spewing venom the likes I had never seen.  Instead of feeling shame, it was rage that blurred in my vision.

      “You cannot seriously think that I can just not feel anything,”  I said, my voice foreign to my ears as I hissed each syllable.  “You know what she was supposed to be - what she should be - for me.”

      Georgia’s eyes bulged with a sickening glare.  “Then I guess you shouldn’t have fucked me!”  

      The words were screamed across the entire downtown.  I was sure of it.  It was her favorite bite when she felt like she was cornered.  My fault.  I did this to her.  Maybe I did, but I wasn’t the only one in that bed.  The only reprieve with this argument was that at least it was Saturday and Mr. Moser wouldn’t be calling the cops on us this time.  Instead of watching her spiral out of control while my brain bit back words that were cruel, I merely grabbed my keys and walked out.

      I dug in my pocket for change that wasn’t there.  It would be a long day without food in my belly.  I pushed into Martin’s back door, shoving my smelly coveralls for the mill into the locker that Henry had gotten me, along with my keys and slammed the door with a huff.  I could feel my world crumbling further as the man that I called mentor looked me over.  He pointed at the office door while he finished up with a customer at the counter.  My heart sank.  Henry was one of those people that most wished for to be part of your life.  Martin’s music had been a refuge while I was growing up.  Dad and I would spend hours within its walls, playing, messing around, searching for whatever caught our eye.  Henry and Dad were good friends, but as I grew, I found that the man filled all those voids that I felt when I was around anyone else.  By the time I was fourteen, I realized I wanted to be him when I grew up.  

      Stepping into the small office that was crammed with filing cabinets and boxes, I poured myself a cup of tar that Henry called coffee.  I didn’t mind though.  It would at least be something in my stomach.  I looked over the schedule, noting that my one o’clock had been canceled - again.  I grumbled.  I got paid regardless, but honestly, how I could be considered intimidating was beyond me.

      “Bad day,”  Henry said as he closed the door behind him.

      I blew out a breath when I really just wanted to bury my face and cry.  Henry patted my shoulder as he moved around me.  He balanced his long frame against the edge of the old desk, arms folded across his chest.  The look in his face made all my upset that much worse.

      “I’m sorry I came in like this, Henry,”  I said, wiping my fingers across my forehead.

      “I think it’s time to talk about the partnership agreement,”  he remarked, his lips pursed.

     Oh hell no…  

     I felt everything rush to my feet.  The deal was that I would graduate, buy into the partnership and in five years, take over the business.  

     “I know things haven’t been going well,”  he continued, giving me a knowing look that I’m sure was supposed to be comforting but instead felt like it was my cue to panic.  “I’ve talked things over with Ada and we agree that the partnership that we thought we could have needs to be revised.”

      “I’m sorry,”  I mumbled out as I tried to find where my heartbeat had gone.  “Henry, I - I just don’t have the money to buy-in right now.  All my gig cash got eaten up first and now it’s just…  I just don’t have it… I didn’t mean-”

      One of his bear paw sized hands came down on my shoulder, his face a mix of upset and concern.  “Whoa, Jake.  Slow down.”

      “No, this is not how it’s supposed to be, Henry,”  I choked out across my tightening throat.  “I get it.  I’m trying to get there.  I’ll do anything to keep up with my end of the plan.  It’s everything -”

      I couldn’t breathe.  The man gripped my shoulder as grief and panic conquered my entire body.  The rattle and bang of the office door sent me to hiding my face.

      “What did you do, Henry?”  Ada’s strong tone was instantly defensive as her hand fell to my empty shoulder.

      “I just said that we needed to talk about our partnership,”  the man said softly, his hand rubbing into the thin sleeve of my t-shirt.  “Jake.  Come on, son.  It’s okay.”

      “Jacob,”  she soothed, hugging my head into her torso.  “Come on, baby.  It’ll be okay.  It’s not bad.  Just my stupid husband’s inability to read the room.”

      Once the emotions were let loose, I couldn’t drag them back.  Everything was flooding out of me - from the fight with Georgia, to seeing Mandy, from all the mistakes and all the loss, it all just washed out of me and I was helpless to stop it.  And these two lovely people who I considered second parents let it happen.  Let me cry like a damn child over a broken toy.  But they held me.  They must’ve realized that they had become my glue that was holding me together.  

      Ada was quick with a glass of water and tissues while Henry frowned as if he was trying to piece together what was going on.  These two were never able to have their own kids.  I was among the multitudes that they had unofficially adopted as their own - but Ada always said that I was the one she would fight to bring me home.  Mom would just cackle and offer me up.  Something that Mom missed was the drift of sadness that invaded Mrs. Ada’s eyes whenever that phrase was uttered.  

      “I didn’t mean to lose it like that,”  I said as I wiped at my face.  “I’m sorry you two.  It’s just everything I wanted to do is just gone.”

      “That’s why I wanted to talk about the partnership,”  Henry remarked, taking his seat behind the desk.  “It’s time to maybe restructure it - you’ve got a baby coming.  We need to make sure everything works here, okay?  I think I have a few ideas-”

      “You mean we, Henry - we have a few ideas,”  Ada said sharply with a pat to my arm.  

      He might’ve rolled his eyes dramatically, but the smile was there.  I felt my body return to normal.  A wisp of strength returned to my burning lungs as Henry and Ada outlined their ideas to keep things moving forward - taking a little bit of extra time before I took full ownership, but if I wanted it, Martin’s could still be mine.  The plan was enough to carry me through the rest of the day.  Ada showed up with a plate before I had to leave for the mill.  She grumbled that I was working myself to death.  I left with a smile - something that had been elusive as of late.  

      I dragged myself home.  I didn’t want to talk.  I didn’t want to fight.  I was near crawling as I took to the stairs outside of the apartment.  As I jingled the key in the lock, for a moment, I hesitated.  I wondered if Georgia would still be inside.  There were no ties to her other than the baby.  She had nobody other than myself to keep her here.  If I admitted to myself, I looked forward to meeting my child, loving them, sheltering them.  Perhaps it would be the catalyst to love for the wife I barely knew.  I knew there would be no love like what I still harbored for Mandy, but at the very least, have some semblance of a marriage.

      The apartment was silent when I entered.  I dropped my keys in the dish at the door and kicked out of my boots.  Once I stripped out of the coveralls, I lit a smoke before I headed towards the shower.  My eyes passed over the empty counter of the kitchen and the bare walls of the space.  The bedroom door was still closed and I decided not to look inside for her.  I did not need to be screamed at so early in the morning.  Instead, I let the shower penetrate my skin, washing away the harshness that Georgia had laid into me hours before.  A stray thought of how good Mandy had looked until I had to open my mouth to force her to look at me flashed across my consciousness.  The conflict struck my heart and stayed there.  

      I stood in the kitchen with a piece of bread with peanut butter smeared across it when Georgia slowly made her presence known.  I had made a pot of coffee but could only stare at it.  I was too damn tired to wash out the only mug in the apartment.  I was waiting for her words to slam into my head and tear me down to the floor.  Her silence made my skin prickle with anger.  All I could do was hope that perhaps she did not see the reaction.

      “I’m sorry, Jake,”  she said quietly.  “I’m sorry about earlier.  I was out of line.”

      I could feel my eyebrows pinch together in confusion.  Looking at her, how she held her hands under her swollen belly like she was already holding our baby, she looked lovely in her own way.  The tiredness of her eyes made me drop my guard.

      “You have to understand that I did not expect to see her yesterday,”  I said softly.

      “She’s everything you said she would be,”  Georgia sighed as she leaned against the counter next to me.  “Maybe more.  I think that’s why I reacted to the situation like that.  Made me realize a few things.”

      I couldn’t say anything.  Her dark eyes shimmered in the low light of the morning.  I shoved the rest of my peanut butter bread into my face to settle my quivering stomach.

     “I know you’re killing yourself to keep us afloat, Jake,”  she whispered.  “It won’t always be like this.”

      I looked at her as I filled a glass with water.  “I know.  You doing better this morning?”

      “Just ready for this baby to be here, I think,”  she muttered as her hands swirled around the top of her belly.  “Been super active all night.  Going to be bouncy, I think.  Kind of like you.”

      I couldn’t help but smile.  She beckoned me for my hand and I obliged as she took my wrist and guided my fingers to where the baby was kicking and moving.  My child.  No matter what - that was love.  Love waiting to be brought into the world.  It was what I clung to when the woman before me slung me full of arrows and venom.

      I pressed my fingers against what felt like the crest of a tiny knee and was rewarded with a hard thump.  I couldn’t help the smile that split my lips, nor the soft chuckle that rode out on my breath.  

      “I’ve got to get to bed,”  I replied as I continued to wonder at the life within her tummy.  “I’ve got to be back to the mill by noon.”

      Georgia nodded.  I noticed the corners of her mouth tightened.

      “Why don’t you come lay down with me,”  I said softly, my eyes lifting to hers.

      She nodded as I slipped my hand into hers to guide her along.  I slid into the small, double sized bed and waited for her to get comfortable on her side before I formed myself against her, my hand searching for the connection to our baby once more.  It was not love.  It was not love that I felt for her in moments like this, but at least it was comfort.  She could be kind.  I could return that kindness.  I fell into a sleep under the rhythmic kick of my baby and the soft breathing of my wife.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I hope you enjoy the story so far.  I’ll be back next Wednesday with another two chapters.  I will continue to warn that there is heavier angst ahead, and just be aware of your limits.  Next week will be tough.  

I have a tag list if you would like to join, or you can just reply to this or message me.

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @streamingcolors-gvf @gretavanbitches @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @starcatchercarol @loveisonaroll @jakesstarlight @reesetrippingthelight @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @lightmylove-gvf @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter @sammysvanfeet @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @jaketlove @redsierra1960 @gvfmarge @becinabubblegvf @wildbluesorbit @sinarainbows @livkiszka @thetroublegetssoloud71

[matthiastalksalot]

what is being aromantic? what is being asexual?

an anecdotal explanation about what being aroace means to me. part 2. technically. both can be standalone. but you should read part one because i enjoy being a chatterbox.

this is not proofread.

so. i finally figure out that i am asexual. yipeee! once the sex aspect is out of the way, i can finally persue relationships without any expectations of sex, right? wrong.

i have a long and not too complicated dating history, featuring many e-relationships and two week infatuations.

going back to the early days of fifth grade. i attended a catholic school, and everyone was starting to reach the age where crushes are a new and fascinating occurrence. of course, i don’t know how many ten year olds had true crushes, but they CERTAINLY said they did.

and so, naturally, i needed one too. i picked a boy in my class, joesph, and told my classmates when i was asked. i did not know him well, and he knew i had this “crush” on him, but he didn’t like me and i never actually asked him out, so that was that.

i got my first boyfriend the summer before 7th grade. we attended a jewish sleep away camp, and were part of the same group for leading our unit’s shabbat service. we had the same hairstyle, the only difference being that the top of his hair was dyed red, the top of mine was dyed blue.

this was a preppy camp. we stood out, and thus our relationship was born. a girl approached me and asked if i would date “brendan”. i did not know who brendan was, we met two days before. she described him as “the boy with the red hair”.

it was middle school, and so i said yes. a day later, he asked me out. we dated for that summer until the next one.

the relationship was incredibly 7th grade of us. we hugged, had a pre-planned “kiss” under the fireworks on the last night of the camp session. it was gross, but short. i could now say i had had my first kiss.

he broke up with me due to bullying the next summer, but then after two days of drama, we started dating again. we broke up for good around december or january of 8th grade, over text. he wasn’t going to camp next summer, so we would not see each other again without planning it.

during our first break-up, i was upset, but mostly because i was insulted by the reason behind it. i did not have any strong feeling about break up #2.

i had more relationships between the end of 8th grade and my senior year of high school, but that would be the fastest way to send you all to sleep.

and so. i take you to my two most recent relationships. May 2022 - August 2022, and April 2023 - May 2023

the first one was a girl from a community theater show i was doing. she was snow white, and i was her prince. we became fast friends, and ended up dating. we were together for months, talked daily. we hugged, and sat in bed, holding each other while watching movies. we did not kiss. we did not even attempt to initiate anything more than hand holding.

she broke up with me in august. i was upset at the prospect of us not being together, but the only thing i remember thinking was “there is nothing we did that we cannot do as friends”. of course, it is difficult to rebound from dating, especially long distance as we were. we ended on good terms, but no longer speak to each other.

after her was my ex from the last post. we began dating after months of infatuation. he broke up with a girl for me, i magically made the “crush” that i thought i had on my best friend vanish the second i realized that he may actually show any form of interest in me.

eventually, that too ended. i enjoyed the hugging, cuddling, and closeness. i hated kissing, and the expectations of what i was supposed to be feeling within the relationship.

i did not immediately begin identifying as aromatic, but this is when i first began to entertain the idea.

life went on.

i started college, and met many amazing friends. as is usual for first semester freshman year, people began to get in relationships, and the whole question of “should i try for one?” comes up.

i decided against it, as none of my friends were romantic candidates for me. i know, i know. it’s weird to think of people that way. however, that’s how almost every other relationship i’ve had started.

we became fast friends, and happened to have compatible genders/sexualities to date. and so we did.

it started to dawn on me: what was the difference between my romantic partners and my close friends? the two largest factors are the duration of time we were close, and the amount of physical contact we had with each other.

in my prior romantic relationships, we became close quickly, or became much closer as we started to enter the “talking stage”. the longest i’ve known someone before getting into a relationship with them was a year and a half, and we were much more distant and did not hang out too often before the dating part.

as for physical intimacy: we started hugging/holding hands/being comfortable with each other before dating, but used it as a sign that we should start a relationship?

i suppose that is where i stand right now.

i am unsure of what the difference in my current best friends are, and what my relationships used to be. i am very physically affectionate, and i enjoy it. i also became close to people fast, thanks to meeting them at college. the biggest change? my two best friends are a lesbian and an arospec who is also out of my age range, dating wise.

there is no room for romantic interpretation.

once none of my friends could be potential partners, it felt like a relief. i don’t have to figure out if they like me or not, and if i “like” them back. we can just be friends.

i don’t want people to have crushes on me. all of mine were deliberately chosen, and that is not the way i feel “romance” should be.

looking back, i have lost many good friendships to the pitfall that is dating. and why? i never have found anything more fulfilling than my close platonic friendships. romantic relationships were always just adding a degree of exclusivity i never could live up to, since i cared for my closest friend and partners in the exact same way.

what is romance? i truly do not know.

however, i do know some things:

i love my friends

i enjoy spending time with my friends

i do not need exclusivity to be valued

not attempting to date has led to my platonic relationships being more fulfilling and wonderful than they were when i constantly had to compare them with what the “line” between romance and friendship was.

of course, i don’t speak for everyone. you may relate to my experience, and be alloromantic. you may understand me, but think this is some sort of polyamorous “i’m in love will all my friends but am in denial because i know they won’t like me back.”

it doesn’t matter, because i know who i am. despite having a dating history, i identify with the label that allows me to describe myself as clearly as possible.

this post is getting long, i’m sure i’ll be back shortly!

all the best,

mattisaroace

[hoodie-prince-kid]

it my turn

[burnwithtears]

i've been seeing a never-ending discourse about how rina's position in s4 will be like portwell's, with ricky graduating and gina still a junior and let me break it to you: it's not the same. and i don't mean the age gap.

ej and gina started their relationship at the very end of the school year, which means ej already has one foot outside school, while gina still has two years ahead of her. the beginning of s3 makes it clear their relationship is very new (emphasis on "first boyfriend", "summer of firsts"). so basically, they're getting together while ej is already entering a new stage in his life, so there is nothing solid about their relationship to hold on to, because this is the beginning of it. if they had gotten together at the start of s2, things would be different, because they'd have a whole semester to build their connection. and don't say they've been friends since s1 and that's enough, because a platonic relationship is very different from a romantic one. gina expects different things from it.

now, ricky and gina are being honest about their feelings before ricky's final year starts. they'll have a whole year to figure out how they work romantically, and they will build a solid base, and later figure out how to keep making things work even after ricky leaves school. and yeah, the stress and fame could break them apart, but it'd be nothing similar to portwell's downfall. ricky is still a senior, he's not on the verge of graduating. he will still see her every day, they will be joining the school play together.

and while we're at it, i'd like to address some very rude comments about gina (and the other kids) being "unfair" to ej during s3. as someone who absolutely loved ej's arc in s3, because he finally got one rsrs, it's absurd to me how people fail to see that his friends did try to support him in their own way. 

there are two very different visions about ej this season: how the adults see him, and how the teens see him. throughout the whole season, he's standing in the middle of it, not knowing what to do, but, at the end, he falls to the adult side, because that's his development.

when ej comes to the camp this last time, he's a mentor. val, channing, dewey and miss jenn interact with him and give him responsibilities he didn't ask for because they see him as a young adult, not one of the kids in the camp. do you see val participating in the games? no, she's not part of any team in color wars, she's not part of the play. the thing is, ej came to camp thinking he would just have fun, but being a “senior” in camp as well comes with these responsibilities he wasn't ready for, and the adults are the ones helping him navigate through it because that's their role. he goes to val for advice with his dad; he goes to miss jenn for advice with the play; he directly deals with channing and corbin when they're trying to call off the documentary. the fact that val is the one who comforts him in the end of the season shows he made through it. it was a transition.

the east high crew, at first, sees him as one of them; they try to include him in all of the camp activities, and that's their way of showing they care for him – they want him around, want him to be part of the group. and it takes them a while to understand he won't be able to, and that it's not his fault, but neither is theirs. ricky's jab "are you sure?" to ej on the last episode is more of a "you've been pushing us way too hard for a while now", because that's exactly what ej was doing, like he was already their teacher or something. when ej says they're theater kids and will do things their way, that's him making amends. when ej says to ricky during the premiere "i could fake slap you, but you're my brother", that's him showing once again that he has grown up and will not carry high school grudges with him. it doesn't mean he's a "superior person"; only that all of their previous animosity is behind him.

gina tries to be understanding when he promises things and don't show up. she tries again, and again, to save what they have, but how can you save something you don't even fully know because it's still so new? you can say "ej is doing all this so he can stay with her", but no one believes that – not even ej himself. he's doing this to prove to his father he can make his own choices and be successful in them. he's trying to show his father he's not a kid anymore, to be ordered around. that’s his arc during season 3.

you could also say "yeah, but even if they're in different stages, the east high crew are still his friends and they still should comfort him" and yeah, sure. but this is a 8-episode teen comedy show, and the narrative tries, and suceeds, to tell the audience that ej has grown up and is moving on. just like they told the audience that nini is not coming back. ej probably will come back, but no longer as one of the kids; therefore, his relationship with them has to change.