#i swear i've read most of this series in the last week

[thetriumphantpanda]

nobody sees, nobody knows

Alright, here we are, me adding my two cents into the dbf!Joel trope which we all love so much. I've read so many incredible fics like this so hopefully mine can stand up with them all. This will be a series, so strap in for more of our favourite neighbourhood DILF.

Pairing | dbf!Joel x female reader

Summary | Back to Texas with a degree under your belt and a school girl fantasy to fuck your dad's best friend. What could go wrong?

Warnings | I mean, dbf!Joel comes with his own warning right? Other than that, swearing, alcohol consumption, age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is 36), dirty talk, and fingering.

Word Count | 3.3K

PART 2 | MAIN MASTERLIST

There was something about summer in Texas that just hit differently. The way the heat crawled on your skin from the moment you woke up to the moment you tried to sleep at night. The way your father used it as an excuse to cook primarily on the grill, regardless of the food, and the way your mother always made sure the fridge was stocked with cold drinks. The way traffic seemed to cease to exist during the high points of the day, meaning you went to the store every day at midday to buy ice cream. The haze you got from sipping cold beer by your parents’ pool which made you want to do reckless things like you’d done in New York before you realized that the beady eyes of your parents would be all over you if you tried. Reckless things like tell Joel Miller you’d wanted to fuck him for years. 

Every time you’d come home from school, and he’d be there you could have sworn he’d just gotten more and more attractive. The last time you were home, for Christmas and New Year’s, you could have sworn he’d started at the gym, his biceps bulging in the arms of his fitted t-shirt, when your dad commented on it, he's chalked it down to particularly heavy lifting on the job he was working then. He’d had his hair cut in a way that made his face even more handsome and you’re pretty sure the last few times you’d been home he’d noticed how you’d flourished too. 

There were moments where you’d catch his eyes as they drew themselves up your legs, or the time you decided to test your theory and wear a low-cut top and your best bra to a dinner party. His eyes had trained on your chest for most of the night, there was a moment where you’d stood up and leaned over the table to pick up the salt instead of asking him to pass it. He’d choked on his drink and your dad had slapped his back to try and help him. At least you knew he was thinking like you. 

Neither of you had tried crossing the line though. Past the point of no return. You wanted him to make the first move, save yourself the embarrassment of rejection if it came, but it felt like waiting for Joel Miller to kiss you was like waiting for rain in the drought Texas was currently experiencing. Useless and disappointing. You wished sometimes that you could burrow into his brain and figure out what it was that he was really thinking about you. You suspected there would be some code of honour he was sticking to because you were his best friend’s daughter – sure it might complicate things, but you weren’t going to be back in Texas forever – what was the worst that could happen during the secret, torrid affair you’d been cooking up in your head since you arrived back from college a week ago? 

 “Did you hear me when I spoke to you?” Your mother’s voice pulled you from the daydream you were having whilst polishing the cutlery. 

“Sorry mom, I was miles away.” 

“I know!” She exclaims, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you since you came back, you’ve been away with the fairies,” She sighs, “I said, once you’ve set the cutlery out back can you help your dad with filling the fridge with the beer, please?” 

You hum in agreement which is enough to send her back to the endless chopping she seems to be doing at the kitchen counter. It was just a cookout with the Millers and few other family friends to celebrate your return, but you think your mother thinks she’s catering for a garden party at the White House with the number of sides she’s preparing. 

You make quick work of the rest of the cutlery, wanting to avoid any more questions about why you seem miles away all the time – you can’t exactly tell your mother it’s because you’re thinking about how Joel might eat your pussy.

“Need any help, old man?” You greet your dad in the garage, he’s on his knee’s pulling out bottles of Budweiser to stack in the fridge. 

“Here, grab these and start putting them in,” He’s smiling, he’s always been an overly happy and laid-back man, “I hope we’ve got enough in.” 

“How many people are you expecting?” You chuckle, taking a bottle from him to add to the growing number already stacked on the shelves. 

“Probably ten or so,” Hu shrugs, “But one of those people is Tommy Miller and he’s not changed a bit since you’ve been away.” 

“Between your drinks and mom’s sides we could host the entire neighborhood.” You joke. 

You continue to fill the fridge up with drinks until there’s no room left. Your dad stores the leftover crates next to it for refilling throughout the evening, “Now, go and make yourself look nice, everyone’ll be here soon.” 

*

You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t picked your shortest and lowest cut dress for the evening. It was a pale blue colour, with pink flowers dotted about the material. It fell to your mid-thigh and you had to keep reminded yourself to kneel down instead of bending over, in case people who you didn’t want to look caught an eyeful of the scant lace covering your ass. 

There are a few people milling around already, cold beers in hand, mainly some of your dad’s older friends, who have all congratulated you on graduating and then moved on to talk about mundane neighborhood gossip. 

“Now, where is that smartass?” You hear from the sliding doors; it’s Tommy and he’s bounding over to you to give you a hug. 

He scoops you up into a bone breaking hug, “Congratulation’s girl, your dad said you graduated top of the class!” 

He’s set you down and you can see Joel standing awkwardly next to him, “He’s exaggerating, I wasn’t top, although pretty close to it,” You turn to Joel, “Hey there.” He bends down to give you a one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek. 

“Good to see you back, sweetheart.” 

“Good to see you too, Joel,” You chirp in response, “Where’s Sarah?” 

“She’s at camp for the first part of the summer,” He explains, “Back in a couple’a weeks, she’ll be thrilled to see you again.” 

“Boys!” Your dad’s booming voice interrupts your conversation, “Good to see you both!” He turns to you, “Why don’t you go and get these two some beers, I need to speak to them about fixin’ up the attic.” 

You turn quietly and head for the garage. Of course, you’d become waitress at your own welcome home party. It takes no time at all for you to come back with three beers, two for the Miller brothers and one for yourself. You hand them off wordlessly, but you don’t miss how Joel grips the bottle just above your fingers, brushing against them. Of all the places for him to grab the bottle, that couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? 

The rest of the evening goes by as expected. You spend most of it running around helping your mom set the food out, fetching more beers for everyone and trying to field questions from everyone about what you’re going to do in Texas with an MA in Archival Studies. You bite your tongue every time, and reply with something like, “I think I’ll probably work in an archive.” 

The night is winding down, your mom already in bed having finished her wine too quickly, your dad sat outside in the quickly fading sunlight with Joel and Tommy and a few other stragglers. It fell to you to make aa start on the dishes, which is what you were currently doing. Rinsing them off over the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher, pausing long enough each time to take a sip of lukewarm beer. 

“They got you tidyin’ up your own party?” You hear from behind you. It’s Joel. 

“I’m the only one sober enough not to break anything.” You shrug without turning around to face him. 

“Seems a little unfair if you ask me, sweetheart.” 

“Well, why don’t you make yourself useful and help?” You counter, “Then I can be sat outside drinkin’ beer with you all.” 

You hear his boots on the floor and then he’s next to you, reaching around to grab the pile of cutlery on the side, he opens the dishwasher further to put the cutlery in their designated tray and then stop, “Has no-one ever taught you how to stack a dishwasher?” 

You pause in your rinsing to look up at him for the first time, “What do you mean?” 

“This is awful sweetheart,” He chuckles, “You’ve got the bowls and plates in the wrong place – you’ll be doing three washes if you carry on like this.” 

“Well, go on then, maestro, show me how to stack it.” 

He’s unloading everything you’ve put in so far, apart from what you suspect he thinks was his expertly placed cutlery, and you’re watching as he’s stacking in completely differently to you. Annoyingly he’s not wrong, the way he’s doing it means you’ll likely fit everything in at once, “Can’t believe you’ve lived on your own for five years and didn’t learn how to stack a dishwasher.” 

“Joel, I was in a dingy studio apartment in the ass end of New York, you think I had a dishwasher?” 

“Well, consider yourself taught now, I don’t ever wanna see a dishwasher looking anything less than perfect, you hear me?” 

“Loud and clear, Mr Miller.” You watch as his eyebrows raise at your new greeting, oh. He liked that. 

He picks up your almost empty beer bottle and hands it to you, “Go on, down the rest,” He’s grinning, “Then go and sit down and I’ll get you a fresh one.” 

You decide to push it a little further, “Yes, sir.” You watch as he swallows deeply at your words before you’re brushing past him, far too close than necessary to go and sit down. 

It’s another hour of sitting around in the garden before everyone else is gone – Tommy is finishing off his beer and telling Joel he’ll be heading to his to crash. 

“I’m going to call it a night too,” Your dad says, “Stay and finish your drink though Joel, there’s no rush, I’m sure this one can keep you company with her stories from New York.” 

And then you’re alone with him, finally. He’s taking a long drink from his beer bottle, which you mirror, realizing suddenly that you didn’t eat much, and you’ve drunk far more than you probably should. You’re not drunk, but there’s a pleasant buzz through your body that’s making your eyelids a little heavy. 

When the light goes off in your parents’ room, you figure it’s safe, “I’ve seen you staring at me, you know.” 

He doesn’t miss a beat, “You make it hard not to, sweetheart.” 

“Do you want me, Joel?” You don’t know where you’ve come from all of a sudden, but this confident girl isn’t someone you recognize. 

“It ain’t a question of wantin’ you sweetheart, it’s a question of doin’ the right thing.” You watch as he rubs his hand over his forehead in frustration. 

“But you do,” You push him, “Want me?” 

“Course I do,” He’s swallowing thickly again, just like he did in the kitchen, “But I can’t have you.” 

“Says who?” You pry. 

“Says the fact that I’m one’a your dad’s best friends, not to mention far too old for you.” He’s looking at you and taking another big drink from his bottle, like if he finishes, he can leave you alone. 

“No-one has to know,” You shrug, “Could be our little secret?” 

“You been readin’ too many of them romance novels,” He snorts, “It don’t work like that, if they find out they’ll fucking kill me.” He’s tilting his head to the window of your parents’ room.

You stand from your seat opposite him, walking around the table to stop just in front of Joel, “Come on Joel, have a little fun for once.” 

There’s a moment where you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, trying to weigh up being shot for touching his best friend’s little girl and finally satisfying the craving he’d wanted for a while now. Then, he’s putting his bottle down on the floor next to the chair he’s sat in. You watch closely as he shifts his position to sit more towards the edge of the chair, before one of his hands reaches out to grip the back of your thigh, just above the crease of your knee.

“You’ll be the death of me,” He mumbles before he looks up at you, “C’mere.” 

He’s pulling gently on your leg as he shifts back in the seat, guiding you so your hips are straddling his. You try not to press yourself too fully into him just yet, letting your clothed heat rest above his lap. One of his arms comes to wrap around the back of your waist, the other tangling in your hair at the back of your head whilst he looks at you with eyes that say he wants to devour you. 

“You gonna kiss me, Mr Miller?” You ask, innocently. 

“Oh darlin’, I’m gonna do so much more than that.” 

His head is tilting to the side and looking up at you from your higher ground, perched on his lap. Then his lips are on yours and God all those years of longing were worth it. They’re pressed tentatively against your own, but you can feel they’re slightly chapped. His hand resting in your hair grips a little tighter and he’s moving your head slightly so that when he opens his mouth against yours it’s the easiest thing for you to open yours right back and let his tongue into your mouth. 

You let out a gasp, swallowed into his own mouth when his hands drop back to your thighs before they’re trailing up the small skirt of your dress to cup the cheeks of your ass, “You wear this for me?” He pulls away, speaking before he’s trailing his lips along your jawline, “Thought you’d get me worked up in this tiny little thing, naughty girl?” 

“It worked, didn’t it?” 

He huffs a breath out of his nose as if to say, of course it did. He’s trailing his hot mouth down your neck now, dragging his teeth along your skin before licking with his tongue to soothe any red marks he might leave. Your head is thrown back as his hands drag you down so you’re sitting flush against him. You can’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans when your clothed pussy makes contact with him. 

You’re whining as his hands are on your hips under your dress, the hot skin of his hands setting fire to you, “What do you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his tongue trailing down to the valley between your tits. 

“Fingers,” You rasp, “Make me come with your fingers Joel.” 

He lets out a low chuckle against your skin, “Needy little thing, already beggin’ me to finger fuck her.” 

But he’s already obliging your request, one of his hands is moving down from your hip to the front of your panties, running his thumb over the material from top to bottom, “God, I can feel how wet you are already,” You look down and he’s grinning, “I’m gonna take these off, sweetheart, but you gotta promise to keep quiet okay?” 

You nod in agreement before you’re lifting your hips up, just enough for Joel to hook his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pull them down enough so his hands can touch you. He mimics the same movement he’d done over the material, this time his fingers touching the bare skin of you seam and he’s groaning when he feels the slick gathered near your tight hole. 

“God, you really are wet, aren’t ya?” He chuckles, a flush creeping over your cheeks, “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about sweetheart,” He reassures, “Means I’m doin’ somethin’ right.” 

You feel one of his thick fingers slip inside you, just a little, before he’s dragging the slick he’s gathered up to run light touches over your clit. You bite down on your lip to keep you from crying out into the dark, hips bucking into his hand to try and get more friction from his fingers. He takes the hint and is pressing his finger more firmly into your bundle of nerves and it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to keep quiet. 

When Joel’s hand drops from your clit you almost cry from frustration, put then he’s sinking two of his fingers straight into your soaking pussy and the relief is palpable. He’s moving them in and out of you, curling them in just the right way that has your hips moving in time with him, literally fucking yourself on his fingers. You let your head fall into the crook of his neck, placing kisses to his skin as you ride his fingers. 

“This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks, his free hand coming to cup the back of your head against his neck, at least this way you could make some noise – testing out your theory you let out a throaty moan, listening carefully as his skin muffles most of the sound. 

“I need… god Joel, my clit, please.” 

With his fingers still buried inside you, working you to the edge, his thumb moves to your clit, resuming the circles his finger had been drawing over it before, “I can feel your pussy gettin’ tight around my fingers,” He’s turned his head so it’s buried in the hair at the side of your head, “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” 

You push back from him a little, looking down between your bodies where you can see his hand working you and that’s really all it takes. Your legs are shaking and you’re biting down on your lip hard enough that you can taste blood as pleasure bursts through you – not even you had made yourself come like this. Ever. Joel’s fingers have stilled inside you, but he’s still tracing your clit with gentle movements of his thumb, reveling in the way you jerk through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Did so well for me, pretty girl.” He coos at you once he’s pulled his hand from your pussy. 

You’ve collapsed onto his chest to catch your breath, but you’re already subconsciously grinding your hips into his, God you want more. You’re about to reach for his belt when you can feel something vibrating in the pocket of his jeans. 

He’s mumbling an apology, lifting you just enough to fish his phone from his pocket. He answers without looking at who is calling. You can hear Tommy’s voice through the phone from your place, draped over Joel’s lap. 

“You just turn it to the side, jackass,” Joel is mumbling in answer to Tommy’s question on how to work his shower, “You’ve used it a million times,” Tommy say’s something you can quite make out, “No, not that one, the one underneath it,” Joel is sighing, “You were not this drunk when you left, if I find you’ve finished the good whiskey I’m gonna kill you,” Another sigh to a question you couldn’t quite hear, “Fine, I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Disappointment is pooling in your stomach. You don’t want him to go, not when there’s so much unfinished business here, “I gotta go, sweetheart.” He’s mumbling, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“But what about this?” You ask, reaching between you to cup his cock through his jeans, “Let me help you.” 

His hand is gripping your wrist, “I would love nothin’ more, but I gotta go before Tommy floods my house,” Another kiss to your lips, “Next time.” 

“You want to do this again?” You ask, almost surprised. 

He takes the hand that had been buried in your pussy not minutes before, lifting the fingers he’d fucked you with to his mouth before sucking them right in front of your face, “Now I’ve gotta taste for you, sweetheart?” He raises an eyebrow, “Of course I wanna do this again.” 

[hongjoongspoetry]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Part 1 — I’m Just Dreaming Of Tearin’ You Apart

⛸️ Summary: Practicing for the Spring Championship preliminaries with your longtime crush wasn’t something you expected and neither was being treated to coffee by the man you despised most in the world, yet both happened in the span of a week. Besides figure skating competitions and hockey games, your best friends created a game of their own involving money and your love life.

⛸️ Pairing(s): Hockey Player!Mingi x Figure Skater!Reader, Figure Skater!Hyunjin x Figure Skater!Reader

⛸️ Genres/Tropes: College AU, non-idol AU, rivals to lovers, but it's more like one-sided resentment, hockey AU, figure skating AU, angst, fluff

⛸️ Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), a lot of swearing, petnames (princess), mention of drugs and sex in a joking manner, use of alcohol, chaotic friendship, friendly fights, a lot of side-characters, mingi is a bit of a dick, MDNI!!!

⛸️ Wordcount: 16.5K

⛸️ Author's note: I'm finally uploading this!! I know I said it was going to be an oneshot, but I wrote too much to post it all in one go so I decided to make it into a mini-series instead. There will be five parts to Cold Hands, Warm Heart and I'll upload every Friday starting from today. It's crazy to think I've been writing this whole thing since October last year, like what?!

The first part is more of an introduction to all the characters and me easing you into the plot rather than starting off too strong with the main pairing, so there isn't a lot of scenes with Mingi, but there will be plenty in the future. Anyway, I won't keep you for too long! Enjoy and tell me your thoughts ❤️

This is all fiction and not meant to represent any idols involved in any way or form. This work is not for minors as it contains explicit scenes, not just sexual content but descriptions of both physical and verbal fights, and adult language. Minors, please refrain from reading or interacting with this work!!!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Click on me!

The sound of blades against ice and the smell of a freezer empty of food brought you great comfort, and it continued to do so for a century and a half. The ice rink was your second home — not the college or your grandma’s house — heck, you could maneuver the place better than your own home. Abel Korzeniowski’s Charms blasted pleasantly through the speakers in the hall as you stood in the middle of the ice with your hands raised and knees slightly bent. The arena was completely empty, which wasn’t anything weird considering it was six AM on a Monday. You slowly moved across the ice in sync to the music, leaving all your thoughts and worries in the parking lot outside. There were only you and the ice. 

As the music gradually picked up its pace, you began doing light spins and jumps. You imagined the arena to be packed with people, their excited eyes following your elegant figure, and cheers going off like cannons after every stunt. In tune with the music reaching its turning point, you propelled yourself up and spun in the air, only for the melody to be abruptly cut off. A short static echoed in the hall as the AUX was rather harshly unplugged from your phone, making you lose your footing and fall on your ass.

The ice beneath was hard and cold, and it numbed your whole left leg except for the burning pain that flared up in your backside. You had to physically hold back tears as you stood back up on shaky legs.

“Majestic as always, princess, but I’ll have to deduct ten points for that eye captivating fall.” 

A chorus of laughter and gloves pounding against the plexiglas averted your attention for a split second, and the picture of an audience watching wasn’t much of an imagination as the whole hockey team stood by the entrance of the rink. 

You masked the expression of hurt and threw a glare towards the music booth planted between the penalty boxes. Rephrasing, you threw a glare at the guy inside the music booth. If there was anything figure skating couldn’t help you with, it was Song Mingi, the right defenceman of the Blue Wolves and the biggest douchebag known to mankind. The mankind in question was you.

“Piss off, Song. The rink is booked until 10 AM.”

The large man leaned into the mic, a smug grin on his stupidly handsome face, “Can’t do sweetheart. We have an upcoming match against the Red Tigers, so we need to practice.”

In three strokes you reached the worn out glass separating you two. 

“Listen here, punk,” you breathed out a cloud of fog. “I don’t care what you have or when you have it; the rink is occupied, so take your little pack of chihuahuas and fuck off!” 

Mingi made himself comfortable on the chair, hands intertwined behind his neck and long legs perched up on the desk. He was not going anywhere unless it was on that ice.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait until you’re done.” 

“Wait, wait! He said what?!” 

In the midst of retelling the events of your morning, you were interrupted by Keeho. Everything about his judging tone told you he was more than disgusted at the new piece of information and a peek at his face — lips slightly curled, front teeth exposed, and eyes squinted — confirmed your suspicion. Keeho was very vocal with his opinions, vocal and bold, and you picked up on that in the short time you got to know him. That’s why you weren’t surprised to see his hands resting on his hips, adding that sprinkle of sass you both loved and despised. 

“Yes!” You exclaimed exasperatedly and bit into your spring roll. 

Choi Dasom, your roommate and childhood best friend, wore her signature sweet smile that made her cheeks chubbier and outshone her fiery red hair. She, unlike you and Keeho, was delighted to hear about your terrible morning, especially at the mention of the one-who-shall-not-be-named. 

“Wipe that grin off your face, Dasom.”

You squinted at her overly happy expression. There was no malice to your words and if it weren’t for your ten year long friendship she wouldn’t have mustered up an even bigger smile, showing off her pearly whites and dimples. No one could ever be mean to Dasom, one look at her round face and sparkly eyes, and they’d be wrapped around her pinky like a phone cord. She was just that cute. If they somehow managed to look past her cuteness then they'd have to deal with you or Keeho and that was never a pleasant outcome. 

The three of you sat criss crossed on the floor of your and Dasom’s shared apartment. An array of takeaway boxes littered the usually clean room as you caught up on each other’s lives; in other words, they listened to your venting about a specific hockey player.

“I just don’t see how this connects to your broken phone screen,” Keeho said and mentioned to the device beside you, sneakily hastening you to get to the ‘juicy part’ as he referred to it. 

Too blinded by the simmering anger you waltzed right into Keeho’s trap, granting him new gossip worthy material. Not that he had anyone to share it with besides the two of you, but he liked knowing everyone’s business, something you swore would come and bite him in the ass sooner or later.

“Well, my dear Keeho, wait til you hear the rest of the story.”

The heel of Mingi’s foot hit your phone, hurling it to the ground. A taunting ‘oops’ fell from his lips, but he stayed seated. 

“Are you kidding me!” You shouted from inside the rink. 

In a flash you were beside Mingi, inspecting your phone for any injuries. A big, singular crack stretched from one end of the screen to the other and you could feel invisible steam erupt from your ears. The phone survived so many concrete collisions and water incidents, but it obviously had to break at Mingi’s hand (or feet).

“Oh, did it crack?” 

Mingi stood up, eyes cast on the screen and hands shoved into his gray sweatpants. Not an ounce of concern or remorse crossed his features and you didn’t know what made you more angry - his nonchalance or mere presence.

“Did it crack? Did it crack?!”

“Alright, no need to shout.”

You knew after a full year of constant bickering and mean pranks that Mingi wasn’t all that well. Maybe he got one too many blows to the head, suffered far more concussions than convenient, who knew? 

You tried giving him the benefit of the doubt multiple times, which proved to be useless, and it took a broken screen for you to finally realize that. A curse so foul it would have his ancestors turning in their graves rested on your tongue, but as you opened your mouth, a puck aimed at your head was flung at the plexiglas, shutting you up in an instant. The same heinous laughs from earlier echoed around you, this time from inside the rink.

You stood there, phone in hand, and hopelessly stared at the sight before you.

Mingi watched the whole thing play out and didn't say a thing. Not that he had much to say, it was his idea from the start. The guys wouldn't stop complaining about you hogging the ice and the least he could do for his team was to get you off. That way he could also get his daily dose of prancing on your nerves. 

It was like killing two birds with one stone. 

Until he awkwardly stood there, contemplating whether to apologize or serve you with another snarky reply. 

He ran his hand through his ashy blonde hair. All the thinking was starting to tire him out and he just wanted to put on his skates and blow some steam off. You were being unfair. They needed the rink more than you, but you just couldn’t be nice and give in for once. 

“No hard feelings, princess.”

“Wow, he really is a dick,” Keeho muttered while examining your phone. “Well, I mean, we already knew that, but I didn’t think he’d be that much of a dick.”

You hummed in agreement as he passed the device to Dasom. 

“No, I’ve always known and I’ve been telling you guys so for the past year but no one listens to me.”

“Hey! I do and I’ve always agreed with you; it’s Dasom who’s being poetic and shit.”

The girl giggled at Keeho’s bluntness. “I’m not being poetic, Kyo. I just think there’s more to him than meets the eye.”

You and Keeho exchanged knowing glances, emotionless eyes and lips set into firm lines, silently agreeing she was tuning into her artistic side. Her smile, bright as ever, didn’t falter, and she simply shrugged before slurping down the last of her food. Keeho clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and flickered her forehead. 

“Wow, what happened to common decency? Table manners, hello?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you. I saw you spit out that chicken,” you butted in with a roll of your eyes.

“It was all rubbery and– ugh. I can’t swallow that!” He defended himself while pointing at the overly chewed piece of chicken on his plate and pushing it closer to your face. You flinched back and hurled, the noise activating Dasom too, and soon you were all in a never-ending fit of retching.

“It’s the last time I let you bring a friend into our circle!” 

You recalled the day Dasom introduced you to Keeho and you’ve regretted it ever since, but there were moments you actually found joy in his company and they served as a reminder of why you put up with him in the first place. At the end of the day you still agreed to have study sessions at the library with his nose in a thick literature book and your fingers dancing across your keyboard.

“Can you, I don’t know, not abuse your laptop like that? I can’t concentrate with your loud fingers.”

“You sure it isn’t your thoughts keeping you distracted? I mean, I’d be too if my voice was that annoying.”

Keeho gifted you his signature glare, which you grew immune to. “Okay, first of all ouch and second of all, fuck you, my voice is not annoying or loud for that matter either.”

“Then go back to your reading.”

“I can’t,” he whined and closed his book with a thud, then slid his arm over the table, his cheek resting against his bicep with a pout.

A mere two hours passed since you met up outside the coffee shop closest to the university and not once did he shut up. From ordering your drinks to finding an empty table in the library his mouth worked and at first you saw it as a good thing, thinking he’d run out of things to talk about by the time you started studying. That lasted for about three hundred words in your essay.

“Keeho-ya, go back to reading. We still have some time before your shift starts.”

“I knooooow, but I’m tired and this shit’s boring me out.” 

You threw a quick glance at the book he was referring to, Animal Farm, and for once you understood him. The piece wasn’t the most interesting literature in the world and Keeho wasn’t that hard to entertain so it was pretty shit. Books based on real-life stories or romance themed novels were his favorites; anything other than that was a no-go and wouldn’t keep him occupied for more than five minutes.

“Why can’t we read The Outsiders instead? It’s so much better and more realistic. Like, when are pigs ever overthrowing the government?”

You snorted and pushed your laptop aside, taking the book in your hands. The cover did little to lure you in and it was no surprise that Keeho found it boring. He was like a child, giving his undivided attention to anything flashy and colorful. You quickly flipped through the pages and nearly passed out at the never-ending words before putting it back down. 

“I’m pretty sure Orwell’s talking about the Russian Revolution back in the nineteen-hundred and the pigs are supposed to represent Trotsky and Stalin.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s still boring and doesn’t really call out to me.” 

You hummed in understanding, “You don’t have much of a choice, Kyo. Read it or don’t; you’ll still have to write an essay about it.”

Keeho whined in agony and smacked his forehead against the table, once, twice and on the third smack you hit the back of his head with the book. He jerked back up and rubbed the spot you just whacked, his hand running through his black hair, doing little to soothe the pain.

“What was that for?!”

The librarian, a woman old enough to be your grandmother, shushed him from her desk. Icy eyes were shooting daggers through her half-rimmed glasses and if it weren’t for her age Keeho would challenge her with a glare of his own.

“What was that for?” He repeated but in a whisper, glancing between you and the librarian, checking to see if she heard him now.

“To get you motivated. Now, read,” you hissed and turned back to your work, purposely ignoring the stare of Ms. Bang. She wanted you to shush, then you’d damn well stay shushed.

Keeho sighed obnoxiously and stilled as his gust of air reached your face, but you held your ground and played it off as nothing. You knew if you showed any sign of irritation he’d just continue to annoy you until you caved in and left for the day. With your determination you managed to stay rooted to your seats for a while and if it weren’t for Keeho’s yelp about being late to work, you’d probably be there a little longer. Hastily you threw your stuff in your bag and ran out of the library with Keeho in tow. You didn’t miss the scowling look of Ms. Bang. Knowing she didn’t sign up to deal with annoying brats when applying for her job, you offered her a tight-lipped smile as an apology.

“Tell Dasom I need her help after work!” Keeho shouted and sprinted down the street, not bothering to wait for the reply you still gave him.

“Text her yourself!”

Nonetheless you whipped out your phone and as you were about to unlock it, your eyes fell on the four digitals showing 11:50 AM. A low ‘shit’ slipped past your lips and identical to Keeho, you took off running towards the training facility. 

If you weren’t dressed and ready for practice in the next ten minutes, it’d be better if you never showed up. Your coach had a set of ground rules he established the moment you were assigned his trainee fifteen years ago.

Come on time, be presentable and ready.

Have a clear and motivated attitude. 

And most important of all, trust your coach.

Jung Hoseok, your coach, wasn’t stern per se. He was a really sweet and kindhearted man who taught you everything you knew about figure skating — from gliding backwards to your first upright spin — you owed this man everything. Although he had a kind soul, a heart shaped smile and dimpled cheeks, you knew better than to defy him. After all, it wasn’t his thoughtful persona that brought him success. Courage, discipline and taking risks did. 

Summoning all the cardio exercises done in life, you managed to turn the seven minute journey into five, sparing enough time to change into your practice clothes and skates. The October wind did little to prepare you for the chilly temperature inside; your nose, cheeks and ears were painfully cold despite the thick scarf wrapped around your head.

“In time as usual,” Hoseok commented as you walked out of the changing room, a whistle dangling down his neck and eyes cast on the clipboard in his hands.

“I’d never dare be late for your practice, Coach.”

“And I take pride in that. Now get on the ice, we have a lot to do.”

With that you took off your pink guards and did a little stretching. Routinely you wiped your hands down your thighs, you liked to imagine it as a way of leaving any misfortune off the rink. It was a silly thing you did years ago and it stuck with you since then.

“Again!”

The rite must have lost its charm because everything was going to shit. Not once did you finish the whole number, messing it up halfway through and being forced to go from the top only to fail on the same part.

You huffed out a clouding breath of air and skated back to the center of the rink. Mr. Jung watched you from the sidelines, sporting a frown so big you wanted to cry. His nose faced the ceiling and his arms crossed over his chest. It wasn’t a good sign, how could it be when you were messing up big time? You shied away from his piercing eyes and took your stance, one arm elegantly thrown over your head that followed its direction. The other hand was professionally relaxed by your side and legs steady on the blades. You started slowly just as the video showed you a handful of times. Gliding backwards and forwards, your arms moved in swirls as you gradually picked up the pace. The first jump wasn’t anything extravagant, a simple triple-toe loop. 

Easy, you thought after landing and prepared yourself for the next takeoff. 

The video you watched with Mr. Jung showed a recording of him doing the Salchow jump going straight into a sit-spin as the music quickened. 

It was hard to move to the sound of nothing besides your own breathing and blades scraping against the ice. With music you could at least time yourself better and get lost in the world of imagination. You held your breath as you pushed up from the ice with your right foot, doing a light spin and landing on your other blade then snapped into a sitting position with your left leg connected to the ground. The other was stretched out with its heel facing outward and your arms stacked on top of each other straight out in front of you. After the sixth spin you graciously straightened out your skating leg and stood up, arms moving to your chest and then forward again as you checked out. 

You continued sliding around the rink, building up tension and fully catching the attention of the imaginary audience. Your dominant foot continued facing forward and the other turned in the opposite direction, legs squatting to form a square. The core of your body flexed as you arched your back, creating a ‘C’ with your whole being. Cold kisses ghosted along your neck and ears, fingers an inch from the ground. With little to no effort you snapped back into an upright position and prepared yourself for the highlight of the choreography — the part you couldn’t land — a triple axel. The second you saw Mr. Jung’s number, you knew you’d be struggling. You were a good skater, but not a magician. A triple axel would take a lot more than some wishful thinking and an hour of practice.

Did that knowledge lighten the burden on your shoulders? Not in the slightest.

Nonetheless you approached the jump with confidence, the key to every success in life, and  prepared yourself to jump. With a steady breath and enough speed you kicked up from the ice and rotated in the air; once, twice, and three times before gravity pulled you down, starting the landing phase. The blade of your skates skimmed the ice and just as you thought you had landed it, you became one with the ground. 

Your thigh took the majority of the fall, but it still hurt and if you didn’t know any better you’d think your femur was broken. With shaky legs you stood back up on your skates. A whispered curse slipped out as you rubbed your knuckles along your thigh. You didn’t know what hurt more; falling or failing. The sound of a whistle cut through the arena before you could take your starting position. You halted in place and turned to Mr. Jung who held the same solemn expression throughout the whole number. The walk from the center to him was short and your lips pursed in disappointment. He was cutting practice short. It rarely happened, some days you’d even go over time. 

“We’ll stop there for today. I’ll send you the choreography. Study it thoroughly and come mentally prepared next time because we’re not quitting til you land it.”

You fiddled with your fingers and nodded at his words. 

“Great, get some rest until then, yeah?” 

“I’ll stay a little longer.”

He raised a brow, slightly surprised at your spirit. After your last fall he was sure you’d be frustrated beyond belief, too tired to continue and too angry to give up. He smacked his lips, “Alright, one hour tops. Don’t overwork yourself. Resting is a slow way to success but it’s still a way.”

Before Mr. Jung completely took his leave, he turned to you one more time. “I’ll be back to take my things. If you’re still here by then I’ll make sure you don’t attend the competition at all, understood?”

You jumped into a military stance, back straight and fingers pushed against the side of your head.

“Sir, yes, sir!”

You deflated the moment his figure disappeared behind the big metal doors. After fifteen years of skating under his watchful eyes, you knew his threat wasn’t an empty promise. Leave it to Mr. Jung to make you anxious about the competition months before D-Day. You squished your cheeks between your hands and delivered two slaps to each side of your face.

“C’mon, focus.” 

Ten tries, ten fails and ten bruises later zero progress was made. One would think you’d do better without Mr. Jung’s breathing down your neck like a dragon, but there you were barely landing a single axel. You were one fail away from ripping your hair out.

“Fuck me sideways. What the fuck is my problem?”

Skating with a jumbled mind would do you no good, so with a quick breathing practice you pushed all your thoughts aside and tried again. You swore it would be your last try before going home. 

Starting position. Triple-toe loop. Salchow jump into a sit-spin. Double axel. 

The muscles in your thighs and abdomen burned, begging you to stop. Before you could plummet to your knees and throw a mini-tantrum, clapping sounds echoed in the silent hall. You jerked your head up with a scowl on your face. The person had to be taunting you; nothing about that was applause worthy.

The last person you expected to encounter on a Tuesday afternoon, let alone receive praise from, was Hwang Hyunjin. The prettiest guy on campus. He looked just like the day you first saw him, unbelievably handsome. The top half of his black hair was hiding beneath a beanie; the rest fell to his neck and some strands obscured his face. A face sculpted by Phidas himself. Pink plump lips, big eyes and a slim nose. Taking in his relaxed form, eyes quickly roving over his broad chest and down to his slim waist, you thanked the heavens that he wasn’t your coach. You wouldn’t survive one session with him leaning against the border, hands gripping the border and veins appearing on his pale forearms, eyes trailing after you. 

Your heart slammed against your ribcage as he waved. The charming smile he gave you warmed your cheeks as a smile of your own grew. It was no wonder girls swooned over him, he truly was beautiful and this was him dressed in a simple black shirt and tights. He looked even better dressed up. Inching closer to where he was, you grabbed the railing and held onto it for dear life. Your legs wobbled like Bambi on ice and you weren’t ready to fall flat on your ass in front of your crush and fellow figure skater. A timid ‘hi’ fell from your lips and your heart landed a perfect triple axel as he greeted you back.

“Your program is great.”

You giggled like a schoolgirl and bashfully looked away, and then back at him again. “It’s not even near what it’s supposed to look like.”

This was the most you said to each other in the span of a year. You never did much talking besides polite ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ coming and going from the rink yet you knew more about him than your childhood best friend.

“Really?”

You mustered up a nod, afraid to embarrass yourself with words.

“Do you mind if I join you then?”

Whatever you did in your past life to earn this must have been something noble, perhaps serving a king or saving a village from starvation. You nodded again, your lips perking up and eyes shining with excitement. As Hyunjin faced away from you to put his skates on, you buried your head in your hands and bit back a worrisome squeal.

“By the way I’m not like doing this to coach you or anything. I just thought you looked a bit… distracted and could use some help to loosen up.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better I could really use the help, coach or not.”

He huffed a soft chuckle at your honesty and skated to the center of the rink with you behind. 

“I’m happy to be of service.” 

He mockingly bowed and you allowed yourself to laugh, feeling your whole body heat up despite the cool arena air.

“Okay, so put this on.” 

Hyunjin handed you his beanie and your eyes widened as the rest of his hair fell around his face. You wondered if it felt as soft as it looked. You gently pinched the black material between your hands — even his clothes were soft to the touch — and put it on. Hyunjin hummed as it covered your ears and head, then he gingerly reached out and pushed it over your eyes. 

“Can you see anything?”

“No.”

“Perfect. Just stay right there,” he said, his blades cutting the surface grew more and more distant by the second. There was a lot of trust put in his hands and you were starting to feel foolish, standing there like a stick figure with an expensive cap covering your sight.

“Do you hear me?”

Your head snapped towards his voice and you nodded. 

“Okay, come find me.”

The whole time you cautiously moved along the slippery ice you couldn’t help but think how silly it must look for outsiders. You conclude that if it weren’t for Hyunjin and your stuttering heart, you’d never agree to this. He continued speaking out in the open, some sentences long and others consisting of a word or two. Getting the hang of skating blindfolded you sped up, arms stretched out in case of toppling over and as you were about to give up, your left hand came in contact with a warm surface.

Hastily you snatched the hat off your head and blinked fast at the bright lightning. Your heart stilled as you looked into Hyunjin’s scrunched eyes, a wide and dare you say proud smile overtaking his features. The cold air nipped at his rosy cheeks and nose, even his ears, and your fingers itched to cover them. 

“Found me,” he chuckled at your struck expression, parted lips and raised brows. “Wanna go again?”

The game continued for a few more rounds and with every new try you channeled your concentration better. On top of that you trusted your other senses to get you across the ice without flying head first. Best of all you weren’t as flustered around Hyunjin anymore. The eye contact lasted longer and you weren’t a stuttering mess. The last round was going great. It was your fastest game yet. As Hyunjin called your name you thrusted your arm out, practically flinging yourself forward. Your fingers clasped around the air and not the warmth of Hyunjin’s body you expected. A panicked gasp died in your throat as your feet flew under you and back gravitated towards the ground. You braced yourself — as much as one could do — for a concussion. Instead of feeling the hard ground, arms wrap around you. One hand resting between your shoulder blades and the other on your lower back.

“Gotcha,” Hyunjin whispered.

On instinct you grabbed his shoulders and pulled yourself closer to him, chests nearly touching and noses inches away. You could see a faint beauty mark below his eye, a feature you hadn’t known of before and heat rose to your cheeks at the sudden proximity. 

“You good?” 

“Yeah,” you breathed out as he moved you upright, his hands respectfully resting against your hips while yours slid around his neck. Your head turned downward, too nervous to look him in the eyes. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Hyunjin opened his mouth, but you didn’t get to hear what he had to say as an agitating voice beat him to it.

“So the princess finally found her prince.”

You jumped from Hyunjin’s hold, his hands falling to his sides, creating a space big enough for two other people between you with your head whipping towards the entrance where a familiar figure stood, tall and bulky. The sly smirk painting his chiseled face was a sharp contrast to your scowling lips and wrinkled nose.

“And I see you’ve yet to find your manners.”

Something about Song Mingi brought out the devil in you. 

“You just have to ask nicely or is that too hard for you?”

The fifteen equally bulky guys all dressed in red and black gear behind him laughed at his remark. Children, they were a bunch of children. 

You threw them a glare they were more than acquainted with and in a poor attempt at masking your embarrassment, you kept your head down and stomped out of the rink, and walked through the group of guys that separated like a shoal of fish afraid of a great white shark. With record speed you grabbed your stuff and bolted for the changing rooms. Not once did you stop to think about the beautiful figure skater you left behind as your mind was occupied with intriguing images of delivering punches to the whole hockey team, starting from the shortest to the tallest. 

Bag slung over your shoulder and hands tucked deep in the pockets of your jacket, you strutted out of the arena. There was no way you’d head home now. Dasom had a group project she’d work on until late and you didn’t feel like being alone knowing the violent sound of bodies colliding and pucks sliding across ice would taunt you in the silence.

The bell above the ice cream parlor dinged as you stepped inside. The pleasant smell of freshly baked cones and vanilla extract hit you hard. The customers inside brushed you off, too immersed in their milkshakes and desserts to care about a girl with a scowl. 

“Hello and welcome to Kim’s ice cream parlor. How can I help you this fine ev– what the hell are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too, Kyo,” you greeted, dropping your bag on the floor by the counter seats. 

“Bad practice?”

“Try a bad day.”

You propped your elbows on the desk and tiredly leaned your chin on the palms of your hands. Keeho hummed, already preparing your usual order.

“Y’know I’m always up for some tea, but Jiung called in sick today so we’re one man short.”

You tried your best not to visibly deflate. The one time you needed to vent and get it out of your system no one was there. 

“That’s okay. S’nothing a banana split can’t fix, I guess.”

“Coming right up, sweetcheeks. It’s on the house just for you.”

New customers filled the little shop and you noticed your presence by the counter was still distracting Keeho so you did everyone a big favor and moved to a vacant seat by the big windows. The ice cream went down your throat and found its new home in your stomach. You’d usually be more strict with your food intake, having to be a certain weight and whatnot but some days just couldn’t be helped, especially when practice left you feeling like the biggest failure in the world and if that wasn’t enough then Mingi’s presence was a good enough reason to treat yourself.

Before taking your leave you sent Keeho a smile; he reciprocated and positioned his hand up to his cheek, the thumb and pinky finger extended in opposite directions. You chuckled at the gesture but nodded nonetheless. One way or another Keeho would end up hearing about your shitty day.

“Hello,” you called out as you gently threw your keys in the strawberry-shaped bowl — a housewarming gift by yours truly, Yoon Keeho — on the console table by the entrance.

“I’m in the kitchen!” 

You carelessly shrugged your coat off, allowing it to drop to the floor by your shoes and bag, before running off in her direction. Dasom softly hummed to a song playing on her laptop and you immediately relaxed as the melody reached your ears. There wasn’t a dent of worry in her life and you were grateful for that. At least one of you was in a good mood.

“Hey Dae-Dae,” you exhaled and plopped down on one of the four chairs around your dining table. 

Dasom wore a pink apron decorated with a big white heart over her knitted sweater and jeans, with a pair of matching mittens covering her hands. The apron was more for show than shielding her clothes from baking. 

“I’m baking cookies.” 

Minutes later you were sitting on the kitchen floor with a big plate of chocolate chip cookies between you and a cup of milk each. You picked up a cookie and moaned at its aroma of caramelized sugar and chocolate. Nevermind the banana split you inhaled twenty minutes ago, you were treating yourself for the rest of the night.

“How did the project go?” 

Dasom took a long sip of her milk trying to hide the way her lips curled upward. You nudged her thigh with your toe and wiggled your brows. 

“It’s exciting, a bit out of my comfort zone, but it’s still fun. We are actually working with the art majors. Everyone’s partnered with someone from the opposite class.” She dipped a cookie in her cup before continuing, “So the art majors have to write a poem about passion while we, creative writing majors, have to paint it.” 

“So the roles are reversed and how are you being graded on that exactly? Like no offense Dasom, but you kind of suck at drawing.”

“See that’s what I thought too, but the professors said we shouldn’t focus on how good our drawings are, but rather what it is we try to convey. Plus, they said we are paired up for a reason, so I guess we are supposed to ask each other for help?”

You hummed in understanding, it made more sense when she put it that way. “So who are you partnered with?”

“Kim Hongjoong.”

“The weird guy with the blue hair?”

“It’s black and white now, and he’s not weird, just… unobtrusive. Hongjoong’s actually kind,” she defended.

“Mmm, I don’t know Dae-Dae, it sounds awfully close to what you say about Mingi.”

Her invisible dog ears perked up and her tail wiggled excitedly from left to right. The hockey player was only ever mentioned after a run-in with the guy, both Keeho and Dasom knew that.

“Don’t keep me waiting!”

With another bite of your fourth cookie you spilled everything like an overflowing bucket. Starting from the study session to the unsuccessful practice and Hoseok’s disappointed look to the sweetest and most unreal moment with Hyunjin that was later ruined by Mingi–

“Oh my God!” 

Dasom dropped her cookie and jerked back, not expecting you to shriek like a banshee. “What?!”

The sudden realization of whose presence you forgot in the rink hit you like a truck. An uncomfortable heat twisted your guts as your thoughts began to spiral. You buried your head in your hands and as if that wasn’t enough he witnessed you explode on the whole hockey team, heard Mingi’s embarrassing taunts and watched you run out. 

“My outburst! I completely forgot about Hyunjin!”

“Oh…”

A silence settled over the kitchen. Neither of you knew what to say because what could one say in moments like these? A pat on the back and a somber smile would suffice although it wouldn’t ease your worries. A few seconds passed and Dasom eventually cleared her throat.

“You know what could be even worse? Like the cherry on top?”

Like a child, you peeked from behind your fingers. Eyes heavy and lips in a pout, “What?”

“Starting your period.”

Your childhood friend possessed an extravagant vocabulary with a cupboard full of advanced words and phrases. She could easily go on a poetic rampage about how you should see things from the brighter side or that some things happen for a reason. Yet she settled on a simplicity she knew would make you crack a smile.

“Amen to that.” 

You clinked your cups in a toast and downed the rest of the liquid like a shot. Milk clung to your upper lips like a childish white mustache and you broke out in laughter, pointing a finger to your index finger pointed at each other’s faces.

“I was thinking–”

“Uh oh, that never ends well.”

Dasom pouted and delivered a soft kick to your thigh. “Anyway, I was thinking we could have a girls’ night on Friday. Keeho’s invited too, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you chimed.

“We can paint our nails, watch movies and eat a lot of snacks. Whatcha say?”

Mentally picturing the schedule of the week, you figured you’d need a day off and agreed to her idea. 

The sharp noise of a whistle blew through the arena and the eighteen guys clad in hockey gear and skates gathered along the centerline. The first half of the players got into position and awaited the second signal from their coach while the rest of the team stood behind their designated partner. As the high-pitched sound cut through the silence, the first batch bolted from their marks and the remaining guys shimmied closer to the line.

There were a lot of fun things about hockey, like boarding your opponent or shutting down their offenses. The lesser good was receiving penalties or a game misconduct, but the absolutely worst thing about hockey was the cardio exercises. 

When Mingi signed up for hockey practice at the age of five, he didn’t think much would come out of it. He was too uncoordinated with his legs to play soccer and his towering height didn’t make him any better at basketball either, but hockey on the other hand… Everyone was clumsy when it came to skating on ice. Like newborn foals, they were all shaking on their skates with hockey gear too big for their little bodies and barely able to locate the puck through the grid on their heads, Mingi managed just fine. The gnawing thoughts of standing out and being the worst amongst his peers wasn’t something little Mingi entertained anymore. Instead, he focused on growing and being better at the sport he actually enjoyed playing. As he got older, hockey got more serious and his interest for the sport broadened. His role model changed from his dad to Kim Kisung, and his big collection of Pokemon cards was replaced by hockey ones instead.

The dunk of a gloved hand collided with his back and Mingi took off like a rocket. He wasn’t the fastest or the most agile on the team, but he was great at using his height to crush explosive little wingers and it was the secret recipe of what kept him able to go for so long in games. There was no bigger joy than putting a stop to other’s plays and when there wasn’t anyone to stop or pucks to steal, the hockey Mingi loved was something he loathed. The ripping and slicing of multiple blades on ice sounded through the arena and despite working out five out of seven days of the week, Mingi still felt out of breath as he stopped a few steps over the centerline.

“A new lap is added for each player that slows down!” The old man standing by the entrance barked. 

Mingi could feel all eyes turn to him and if he wasn’t so busy catching his own breath, he’d gift them all with a good ol’ ‘go fuck yourselves’. 

“You heard the man, Song. Don’t let him catch you slowing down.” 

Turning his head to the right, the smug face of Jungkook came into view. Jungkook was a prime example of little wingers Mingi expertised in crushing. The player (both off and on court) behaved like the youngest of the team, despite being one of Mingi’s seniors, which gave him immunity to everyone’s wrath.

“Don’t make me remind you how it’s to be sent flying into the borders, JK.”

Throwing a quick glance at their coach, Jungkook smacked Mingi in the back of his head, which did little to no damage and only meant the helmet was doing its job of protecting Mingi from concussions. 

“It’s Jungkook-hyung for you, brat.”

“Song! Jeon! Less talking, more skating!” 

There was in fact not less talking and more skating, and the penalty resulted with three more laps for the rest of the team and a bunch of curses hurled at the instigators. 

“I don’t get why you just don’t ignore him,” Intak complained as he wrapped a white towel around his waist and ran his hand through his wet strands. 

Mingi followed suit, his own towel similarly tied around his waist and another smaller one thrown over his head soaking up the water dripping from his hair. 

“You know how he is,” Mingi defended and plopped down on the bench to easier rummage through his bag for a change of clothes. “He’d just say something else until I finally explode.”

“I know, but bro, we’ve been doing bag skates for weeks now. One of you has to give in and it’s gotta be you.”

Living up to his zodiac sign, Mingi was awfully stubborn and a sore loser, there was no way he’d ever let up. 

“Yeah, sure I might as well let him trample all over me while we’re at it.”

Intak, who moved over to the square mirror attached to the wall, caught Mingi’s eyes in the reflection and his own widened as an imaginary light bulb popped over his head. Adjusting his red cap — a stark contrast to his bleached hair — he turned around and his mouth formed into a suppressed smirk that looked something between puckered lips and a smile. Weirded out by the smuggish-look on his friend’s face, Mingi reeled back and raised a brow.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason, no reason at all.”

“He probably just clocked why that figure skater puts up with your dumb shit,” Matthew or BM, as everyone referred to him as, answered and plopped down on the vacant spot between them.

BM was one of the guys who challenged Mingi in both height and mass. They were similar in body proportion, but BM carried more muscle and had a few years on him, not to mention he was a force to be reckoned with in the defense zone. Definitely a key player of the Blue Wolves. 

“Puts up with my dumb shit?”

“Yeah, all that teasin’ and makin’ fun of her.”

Scratching the back of his head, Mingi didn’t quite get what they meant. He wasn’t really making fun of you per se. They were just harmless jokes and, well, you did actually hog the rink for the past few weeks and you were so easy to rile up. 

Throwing a black hoodie over his head, BM filled the silence that came with Mingi’s thinking. “I get she’s cute, but we’re past that boys-pick-on-girls-they-like typa bullshit.”

“I don’t think she’s cute,” Mingi retaliated.

“Nah, every girl is a lil cute and that one is definitely cute.”

“What’s this? Tea time and you don’t invite the Jeon Jungkook?” The winger threw an arm around Mingi’s shoulder, and a whiff of fabric softener and pear reached his sinuses.  

“Didn’t need to, we knew you’d invite yourself anyway,” Mingi muttered and jabbed a thumb into the older’s side that immediately freed him from the unpleasant hold.

Jungkook scrambled to the opposite side, legs spread wide and forearms falling back on the wooden railing of the bench. 

“Don’t be mean just because you can’t talk to girls like the rest of us.”

Growing more agitated the longer the conversation went on, Mingi threw his stinky jersey at Jungkook and snapped, “The fuck you mean I can’t talk to girls?”

“Last time I checked, you don’t need to fuck up a girl’s phone to get her number, but I do have to say it’s an interesting technique. Tell me how it goes for ya, why don’t you?” Jungkook scrunched the shirt into a ball and threw it back at its owner, who caught it with ease. 

“Oh, fuck you. It was an accident.”

Another arm wrapped around Mingi’s neck and his face was pushed up against a clothed torso. The unpleasant and slightly painful feel of someone’s knuckled rubbing against the top of his head pulled out a string of winces.

“First you can’t talk to girls and now you’re disrespecting your elders? C’mon, Mango, don’t make me hand you your ass,” BM threatened with a grin, showing off his overly white teeth.

“Yah, that hurts!” Mingi somehow managed to escape BM’s iron grip and caressed his hair back into place.

“Serves you right, you punk.”

“I think Jungkook-hyung’s right though. Like, don’t you think it’s a bit excessive? I mean, yeah she’s annoying and shit, but dude, fucking up her phone?” Intak voiced as he zipped up his jacket and slung his bag around one shoulder.

“It was an accident and it’s not like I’m the only one to blame. You guys were in on it too!”

The deep chuckle of Jungkook diverted everyone’s attention to him. “We agreed on you distracting her, not destroying her things, baby chick. She’s better than me, if I was her and a guy did that to me, I’d be fuming.”

“Yeah, but what about that time she spilled apple juice on my shirt. On my favorite shirt!”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t taken the last drink, her favorite drink in fact, what was it again?”

“Strawberry milk,” Mingi answered without missing a beat and had everyone taken back at the quick reply.

“...Anyway, as I was saying. If you hadn’t taken the last of her favorite drink in the cafeteria, she wouldn’t have poured the apple juice all over you.”

“So that excuses it!?”

BM stood up with Intak and Jungkook in tow, all dressed and ready to leave except for Mingi who still sat in his boxers and just a pair of socks on his feet.

“Considering you’ve been a douche toward her… Yes, yes it does,” BM answered and tucked the hood over his neon green hair.

“When was I a douche toward her?”

“Jeez, I don’t know how ‘bout the time she nearly fell on her ass and you made that whole prince charming comment. What was that about anyway?”

Jungkook butted in and leaned against BM. “Yeah, what was that about? You jealous of the prince snatching your girl, Song?”

“She’s not my girl and I’m not jealous of a guy doing some loops on ice and calling it a sport…”

The rowdy boys quietened down at the sudden jab. Books and movies presented hockey players to have a burning hatred for figure skaters, and while that could be true, it wasn’t necessarily amongst the Blue Wolves. They didn’t really care all that much about the sport or the athletes, but they knew the amount of hard work and effort that went into figure skating, making it a hobby far more respected than soccer. They also knew that Mingi wasn’t really thinking that and only let his fiery thoughts get the best of him. Nonetheless, it wasn’t cool and while they were already on the path of calling him out, why not follow through.

“No need to be a dick, Hyung.”

Jaw going slack, Mingi threw his hands out towards Intak. “So I get shit for calling you guys nicknames, but he gets to outright call me a dick?!”

“Did he lie tho?”

One after another, they left the changing room with Jungkook getting the last word.

“Better hurry, baby chick, or you’ll be late for class! Remember, girls may like dicks, but not when you’re acting like one.”

Balancing between schoolwork and perfecting the triple axel, you hadn’t even noticed how quickly Wednesday and Thursday flew by. Keeho burst through your door with grocery bags in his hands and a giggly Dasom hot on his heels, a little Hello Kitty tote bag hanging off her shoulder.

“Bow down bitches, bow-bow down bitches!”

Quite literally you fell off the sofa, legs tangled in your soft blanket and some drool on the side of your face. 

“What the–”

“Wake up sleepyhead, it’s time to partyyyy,” Keeho hollered and raised the plastic bags in the air. The various bottles of alcohol, chips and popcorn reminded you what day it was.

While Dasom and Keeho prepared things in the kitchen, you were ushered to the bathroom to ‘wash the drowsiness away’ as Keeho worded it. They lasted five minutes without creating chaos and by the time you returned Keeho was sliding across your kitchen with his pink fuzzy socks on, dancing to Lady Gaga’s Monster while Dasom whipped together a peanut butter cookie batter.

You were still not entirely awake and couldn’t decide if everything was just a crazy dream or not. Without giving it another thought you threw a bag of dried kernels into your microwave and helped Dasom with the baking.

“Oh, can you like make this pinky have a red heart and the other a green one?” 

Dasom nodded at Keeho’s question and gently blew on his white nails. You watched them from your seat on the couch, patiently waiting for your turn. Keeho lay on his stomach, legs dangling in the air, and Dasom sat in a pretzel position with various nail polishes and pearls scattered in small bowls on the floor.

“We are having so much fun you guys.”

“Stay still please.”

“Sorry, Dae-Dae.”

A game of rock-paper-scissors decided who painted whose nails. You groaned as Keeho won and chose Dasom to fix his, leaving your fingers in his hands. It was no surprise that Keeho’s turned out to be the prettiest and yours the ugliest. Out of the three of you, he was the shittiest artist with Dasom as a close second but at least her hands were steady.

“Okay, as the winner I say we watch Coraline.”

“Slow down, you won for the nails not the movie.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh! Dasom tell him.”

After another game of rock-paper-scissors and another victory for Keeho, you had no choice but to put the movie on despite your protests about Halloween being a month away.

“It’s probably a shit movie anyway,” you said and leaned into Keeho’s side, repositioning your head so it was comfortable against his shoulder. Dasom found herself in a similar position on the other side. You each cradled a bowl of popcorn and chips.

“...You haven’t seen Coraline?”

“Uhm, was I supposed to?”

“Were you supposed to?! I should smack you right into the Other World with your Other Mother!” 

Your brows rose at his comment. A bit confused as to what this Other World was and why he referred to your mom as the Other Mother.

“Smack me and I’ll have the cops on you faster than you can say–”

“Big boobs?”

A pinch of his bicep between your thumb and forefinger quickly shut him up and Dasom took it as her cue to dim the lights and start the film. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, sure it was a bit sad, dramatic and hectic even, but not enough to work your tear ducts.

“Honestly speaking, and I mean honestly speaking, the Other Mother is kinda hot.”

“I wish you knew when to shut up.” You pushed Keeho and stuffed his mouth with popcorn. Dasom giggled at how quick the atmosphere changed, but then shushed you as the movie took a dark turn.

“Ya, ya. Whatever.” Keeho stood up and cracked his back before turning the lights back on, completely ignoring Dasom’s whiny protests. “You know what this calls for? Some driiiiinks!” 

In seconds the night turned from a chill girls’ night to a full blown party.

A widely popular song blasted from Keeho’s portable speaker and he couldn’t help but swing along to the sound. His ears were a burning red after two bottles of soju, but the rest of his face was white as snow. Dasom, on the other hand, looked pretty flushed all over. Her cheeks were as red as her hair and she could barely stand up without falling on her ass. She was alright though, her never ending giggles told you that. She was a cute drunk, unlike Keeho who was crazy and had you constantly reminding him why he couldn’t twerk on your coffee table.

“Y’know…” Keeho flung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. The sweet smell of strawberry soju on his tongue was pleasant to your nose. “Hyunjin asked about you today.”

The statement immediately sobered you up and the dizziness wasn’t from the alcohol anymore. They both saw a spark of hope light up in your eyes and Dasom ‘oohed’ as you whipped your head towards Keeho. You licked your lips and dried your clammy hands on your trousers. 

The only thing they had in common was being seniors and last time you checked Keeho wasn’t acquainted with any of Hyunjin’s friends either. They had no reason to converse — one being an arts major and figure skater while the other was studying English literature and was a cheerleader — besides you.

“Really?”

He hummed and sluggishly continued talking, you could barely make out what he was saying. “He ash-ked if you were-rer alrigh-t.”

Another teasing hoot came from Dasom which Keeho chimed in on with a squeeze to your shoulder. Your face burned and you knew damn well it wasn’t because of the alcohol flowing through your veins. 

“An–and what did you say?” You fanned your face. It was really getting hot in there and Keeho’s clinginess wasn’t helping you.

As the song faded into the next one Keeho gasped at the familiar lyrics coming from the speakers and immediately untangled himself from you to turn the volume up.

“I love this song!” 

He grabbed Dasom by her hands and twirled her around the room, her childish giggles mixing in with the funky beat and Keeho’s loud singing. In any other circumstance you’d be angry at how absentminded he was, but the boy gave you some good information and was thus easily forgiven. The thought of Hyunjin asking about you was surreal. You were certain your prissy attitude would change his perception of you — whatever that was you didn’t know — but apparently not. More heat crawled up your spine, making your cheeks burn uncomfortably. You pressed your cold hands to your face in an attempt to cool down. 

Your mouth broke out into a huge grin when it finally dawned on you. 

Hyunjin asked about you. Hyunjin asked about you. Hyunjin asked about you. 

The rest of the night was a blur and some moments were faintly secured in your memory. You remember dancing, singing, laughing and drinking. A lot of drinking. A never-ending buzz sounded through the whole apartment. With a moan of agony you pulled the covers over your head and snuggled violently against the cushions of the sofa. Suddenly it went quiet and you exhaled in relief. Thinking you’d be able to squeeze in another hour of sleep, you turned around only to groan again as the noise came back.

“Why do you have the alarm on? It’s Saturday,” Keeho said, a tint of annoyance in his grogginess.

“I have to… meet up for ah… projec–th. Can’t be late.”

Whoever invented alcohol should be charged with decapitation for not inventing a cure for hangovers.

“What the hell did you put in our drinks, Kyo?” You arose from your position on the couch, lightly clutching your throbbing head. All your limbs ached and you wished the world would go back to sleep again. 

“Uh– don’t ask me. I don’t even know my name right now.”

The rest of the morning was spent puking and shuffling with blankets wrapped around you like tortillas. None of you were up for small talk, the hangover clung to you like never before and you collectively blamed Keeho for buying so much soju. 

“Oh, shut it. You’re at least well enough to talk. Poor Dae-Dae can’t even open her eyes.”

Said girl grunted out a noise of agreement and gratitude as Keeho gently placed a wet rag on the upper part of her face. True to his words, Dasom was faring the worst. She always struggled with alcohol, both in downing it and the aftermath.

“You shouldn’t drink if you’re going to be this cranky,” you said matter-of-factly and massaged Dasom’s calves.

He gave you a nasty look and rolled his eyes. “Whatever! I’m taking a shower, losers.”

“What a douche.” 

Dasom grunted again, her way of telling you to be nice. 

“Yeah, yeah, go back to sleep or you’ll drool all over your project.”

As the minute hand showed five minutes to eleven you gathered all the empty soju bottles in a bag and gave them to Keeho, a polite way of kicking him out, and then pushed Dasom to take a shower before she took her leave. With those two out of your hair, you turned to the living room and took in the sight of chaos. There were crumbs, glitter and drops of alcohol on the floor and coffee table, nail polish everywhere and nowhere, and dishes in places you never thought you’d see. You pulled back the invisible sleeves of your nightgown and began cleaning up the mess. On a positive note you didn’t have to throw the trash out and could immediately start with the dishes. Then you vacuumed the living room after wiping down every crevice you could reach and continued into the bathroom. To your luck Keeho didn’t puke his intestines out, only Dasom who still had a sense of direction in her hazy state so the toilet seat wasn’t drenched in her stomach acid and lunch. While you were at it you changed the sheets in your bedroom and loaded the washing machine with clothes from your and Dasom’s bedrooms.

At last you too jumped in the shower and stayed there until the warm water ran out. With a tub of ice cream and a towel wrapped around your head, you relaxed in bed. A fresh set of pajamas clung to your body as you wiggled under the clean covers. God, how you missed your bed and privacy. 

By the time you were done with the ice cream and two movies of a random trilogy, the sky turned a pretty dark color which reminded you of last night’s shenanigans. You glanced down at your fingers and laughed at the badly painted nails. The second Keeho laid eyes on the dark blue nail polish — or galaxy blue according to him — he announced his masterplan; a galaxy theme. The first coat was alright, but then as he got his hands on the silver glitter everything went downhill. Your nails were uneven, some having more blue and others drowning in glitter. There was nothing you could do about it or he’d sulk for a week straight, claiming you weren’t a real friend and favored Dasom over him which wasn’t not true but he didn’t need to know that.

As you started the third movie your phone went off with a ding. Your heart fluttered inside your chest when you picked up the phone and saw who was disturbing your ‘me-time’.

Unknown ID [07:35 PM] hey it’s hyunjin

The spoon full of melted ice cream slipped from your hands right onto your lavender sheets. A low ‘fuck’ echoed in the room at the same time as you received one more message.

Unknown ID [07:35 PM] keeho gave me your number

You didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss his cheeks or strangle him. Partially grateful, partially annoyed. Grateful Keeho had half a mind to slip Hyunjin your number and was annoyed that he completely forgot to tell you about this little piece of information during his drunken dancing.

With shaky hands you tapped in a reply and immediately facepalmed as you hit the send button.

You [07:39 PM] Hi Hyunjin :3

Before you could rip your hair out at the choice of emoticon, the front door opened and a cheery Dasom stumbled into your bedroom with rosy cheeks and hair slightly disheveled, looking like a combination of flustered and cold that you didn’t put a lot of thought into. 

Cutting right to the case, you said, “Hyunjin texted me.”

She let out a squeal of pure joy and leapt onto your bed, her heavy book bag forgotten on the tidy floor as she pried noisily on your phone.

Hyunjin [07:40 PM] you up for another practice tgt?

“Say yes, say yes, say yes, say yes!” She shook your arm violently, phone barely staying in your hands.

You [07:40 PM]  That’d be nice

The device was flung across your bed, landing face down as you both sat in silence. It lasted for five seconds until another message came through. You cast a glance at Dasom who was already looking at you, and then in slow motion you both dove for the phone. She landed on top of you, nearly knocking the breath out of your lungs, but you came out the winner with your hands wrapped around the phone.

“I’m scared,” you confessed and pulled the phone up to your chest. A nervous smile tugged at your lips. 

“Just look!” 

Hyunjin [07:42 PM] you free this friday, 9 am?

You angled the screen so Dasom could look too. 

“What do I say?”

“What do you say?” She smiled. “Yes, of course!”

“I mean obviously, but how do I say it? I don’t want to come off too excited.”

She gestured grabby-hands and you handed her the phone. Her thumbs flew across the digital keyboard and she bit down on her bottom lip, suppressing her giggles. You’d be giggling with her if it wasn’t your fate in her hands. She returned the phone and dashed to her room. 

You [07:42 PM] Lucky you, I can just squeeze you into my packed schedule

Hyunjin [07:43 PM] see you then busy girl

You scanned the message twice to make sure you read it correctly. 

“Dasom!”

Her childish giggle could be heard all the way from her room and if it weren’t for your heart almost bursting out of your chest you’d show her a thing or two about loyalty. Instead you hid under the covers. A big, warm tingling sensation filled your stomach and spread to your beating organ. You couldn’t stop thinking about the messages, picturing Hyunjin saying those things in real life. It had you kicking your feet like those lovesick girls in movies and you didn’t catch a wink of sleep that night.

If fifteen years of school taught you anything it was to never have high expectations. Big dreams and hopes were destined to be crushed and you could confidently vouch for that, yet there you were; with your head in the clouds and heart on your sleeves thinking this week would be the best week of your life.

As if sensing happiness floating in the lecture hall, your professor burst your bubble with one decision. The essay he assigned for Saturday was moved to Friday with the deadline at twelve PM. Your original plan of doing absolutely nothing all week and writing it in one sitting on Friday was already altered because of Hyunjin and now you had to change it again. Instead of spending your Wednesday morning huddled in bed with a warm beverage watching the latest episode of your new kdrama, you were in the library under the watchful eyes of Ms. Bang.

The library was full of students. You stood idly by the door and scanned the room for a vacant seat or table to squeeze into. Finals were just around the corner and everyone had the great idea of revising material before and after school hours. At last you found an empty table big enough for two and quickly skirted around the hoard of people, praying to reach it before anyone else.

A confetti popper went off in your head as you sat down. All you had to do now was get started which was easier said than done. The caret on the blank document ticked like a bomb, reminding you of the time you wasted thinking about nothing yet seeming so deep in thought. With narrowed eyes and lips in an angry pout, no one dared to occupy the chair in front of you.

That no one turned into someone.

You didn’t feel them sit down in the vacant seat. You didn’t see them, too occupied having a stare-off with your laptop. One moment there was no one there and the next moment a six foot-something tall hockey player plopped down from the sky, probably being outcast from heaven.

“You good there, princess?”

You reeled back, momentarily stunned by the unexpected presence. Mingi grinned at your reaction and sat back. Very satisfied with his work. As he readied his own computer, you took in his appearance and found yourself growing more irritated. There was no denying that he was attractive. Thick pink lips, a straight and sharp nose and a very prominent jaw. His brown eyes were surprisingly relaxed and didn’t resemble those of a fox. The boy was even blessed with not one, but two moles. You huffed as he made the moss green knitted sweater look good, even though it was ugly.

You sighed and kissed your teeth, “Why are you here?”

Although he tried acting offended, the sly smirk he didn’t bother hiding told you otherwise. You averted your gaze back to your computer. His face was starting to annoy you.

“What do you mean?” He asked ever so innocently.

“This table, my table. Why are you here?”

“The library is a public space and I’m here to study.”

You chuckled as if it were funny. “Since when do you study, Song?”

“Careful, princess or I’ll think you’re interested in me. Asking all these questions, what’s next you’ll ask for my phone number?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Mingi leaned on the table and rested his sharp chin against the palm of his hand. He suggestively ran his fingers through his creme colored highlights and grinned wolfishly. 

“Your place or mine?”

Your knee hit the underside of the table jarring Mingi’s water bottle. Pain flared and you bit back a wince, hastily rubbing against the jeans-clad skin. You didn’t miss the aggravated look Ms. Bang gave you. 

“I’ll take that as a no.”

The glare you shot him worked like a domino effect as he raised one brow menacingly asking, “What did I do?”

“If you’re gonna sit here then be quiet. I’m only tolerating you for so long, Song.”

“Didn’t peg you for a rapper, princess.”

“Don’t,” you drove your feet into his shin, “call me that.” 

The table jerked again — twice as much — and you received yet another disapproving stare from the librarian, but you didn’t care. The revenge was satisfying and you couldn’t help but marvel at his temporary pain. Your first thought as he sat down was that you’d be at each other’s throats, but to your surprise there wasn’t any bloodshed. Silence took over the table as you both worked diligently, and it was only possible because you were still ignoring each other’s presence. Sometimes you’d peek at him and be taken back at how calm and gentle he looked. The smirk you despised was nowhere to be seen, his lips parted in concentration and his eyes were void of any malice. They were warm like your morning coffee and as soft as the sand on Daecheon Beach.

“Is my handsome face distracting you?”

Then the thin line between tolerating and accepting was blurred, leaving you to work with nothing.

“In your dreams.”

“Yeah, you are. Especially at night…when I’m alone with no one to fix my–”

“I swear to God if you don’t shut the fuck up,” you hissed through your teeth and slammed your hand on the table.

The ruckus was drowned out by the sound of multiple fingers tapping against keyboards and the haste of flipping pages, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Ms. Bang. She hushed you with a long ‘shhh’ and you gulped and sank in your seat with Mingi’s broad figure hiding you from her. The woman probably hated you by now. If it wasn’t Keeho who got you into trouble then it was some other idiot.

You couldn’t stand Mingi and he lived to annoy you, but there was an unspoken understanding to put your differences aside for the time being. With another try, you returned to the empty screen and he went back to his. The silent and unofficial pact lasted for a hot minute.

“You know, I don’t usually have a thing for feisty girls but–”

You shut your eyes and sighed heavily. He was really testing your patience which wasn’t anything new really, but he was extra persistent today.

“–you were kinda hot like that. All angry and snappy, and that thing you did with your lips. Right, just like that!”

You sneered in disgust. This was the chance for Dasom and Keeho to prove their friendship because you were about to murder him and someone had to pay for your bail.

“Go back to your mediocre porn and keep your weird fantasies away from me.”

“You know me so well, angel. Wanna re-enact it? The one I usually watch has your hair color.”

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

Everyone stopped at the sudden outburst. It felt like a spotlight was cast over your table, like you were the lead in a play. The click-clack of Ms.Bang’s kitten heels moved fast along the tiled floor and you knew you were fucked. The gray haired woman reached your table and peered down at you with so much venom that it could make a flower wilt. 

“It’s the third time you’ve disturbed the peace in my library. I’ll kindly ask you to pack your things and leave or I’ll have to call security. I’m thoroughly disappointed in you, young lady.”

You felt embarrassed, face hot as you stood up and bowed sharply, “I’m so sorry, Ms. Bang.”

“And you, Mister. You’d think a grown man would have more respect for himself and those around him. I want both of you out, right this instance.”

Much like you, Mingi got up — albeit a bit slower — and bobbed his head up and down, muttering a quiet apology. Whispered murmurs spread through the library as the students resumed their studies. You hastily took your things and darted outside, not sparing anyone any glances. Ms. Bang didn’t return to her post until she witnessed you both walk out the door.

Fuck Mingi. Fuck Ms. Bang. Fuck your professor. Fuck the essay–

“Would you wait up?”

The man you wanted to see least of all stopped in front of you. Curse him and his long legs.

You peered up at him. The audacity of this guy. “No, Mingi. I don’t want to slow down because I don’t want to look at you! Let alone wait up.”

“Okay, calm down. It’s not that big of a deal,” he mumbled and scratched the back of his neck. Things were getting out of hand and he wasn’t used to seeing you this mad.

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down. You got me kicked out of the library, in front of everyone! Do you know how embarrassing that is?!”

“Hey, I was kicked out too!”

“You’re a guy! No one cares about you, but me? My reputation could be ruined, they’ll see me as a delinquent!”

“Oh, get over yourself. You were kicked out of the library, not arrested for snorting coke.”

Your tongue poked the side of your cheek. “You’re a real fucking asshole.” 

You cursed your voice for wobbling and stepped around him, continuing your walk home. Mingi stood rooted to the ground and watched as you stormed off. He clicked his tongue and went the other way. 

You were blowing things out of proportion. Who cared what people thought of you anyway? Stopping by a red light and staring off into nothing, he tried wrapping his head around your logic. You were a figure skater — a performer — you needed to grow thicker skin. People would always judge you, both on and off the rink. How could you be so easily affected by a measly little hag? Mingi blew out an air of frustration. You really were something else. 

The red light was running longer than usual and he was growing more impatient with each passing second. Mingi patted the front of his hair and thought back to the conversation with his friends.

“No need to be a dick, Hyung.”

The seven-word-long sentence struck a chord in him. Too blinded by his own bruised ego, Mingi didn’t want to believe his faults that day in the locker room, but as a sour, unripe apple faded into a deep red, Mingi too matured and realized he was in fact acting like a dick. It was clear his words hurt you, it was evident from the slight timber in your voice. A tone he was all too familiar with from his childhood days. A snivel he let out trying to suppress his childish tears from countless scraped knees and bee stings. A voice so suffocating and uncomfortable, as if a thick ball was shoved down his windpipe. He hated it — the feeling of not being able to breathe, being in control of his own body — even as he transitioned into his adult years. 

A heavy weight dropped in his stomach at the thought of you feeling that way because of him.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Mingi hastily turned around and awkwardly jogged back to where he last saw you. Slowing down by the entrance gates of the local library, he caught a glimpse of your angry-walking figure among the sea of students. Eyes set on you, his feet moved on their own and skillfully avoided the people. Right as he parted his lips to call for you, something hard rocked right into his chest or the other way around, Mingi wasn’t sure. Tearing his sight from you and at the person that was the equivalent of a brick wall, Mingi opened his mouth to apologize only to stop mid word.

“You good there, Song?”

What was it with people addressing him with his last name. His parents did give him a real name for a reason. 

Hate was a strongly charged word and from a young age, Mingi never felt hatred towards anyone. The closest thing he’d come to hate was dislike. He disliked bugs and vegetables, and he really disliked cardio. 

That was until he met Bang Chan, the winger of Red Tigers — a hockey team under TOP University — and also the most annoying man in the world. Mingi hated Chan with a burning passion. Was it because of something childish? Probably. Would Mingi ever admit it? Probably not.

“What’s it to you, Chris?”

If it weren’t for Mingi’s towering height making him look years older than Chan, passersby would have shot him a dirty look for the lack of honorifics used, but Mingi didn’t care. Honorifics were made to show a clear difference in hierarchy and nowadays it was to show respect to either elders or superiors. Mingi held no respect for the shrimp of a man and Chris wasn’t a superior in his eyes.

Chan chuckled and ran his hand through his blonde locks. “Considering I don’t really give a fuck about you, I’d say nothing.”

The grit of Mingi’s teeth clashing against each other and sharpening his jaw, had a cocky smile spreading across Chan’s face. 

“Oh, don’t say you thought I was worried about you.” 

The day Mingi first met Chan was right before a game between the Blue Wolves and Red Tigers. The younger had been told about the talented winger, warned of his skills and malicious ways of getting under people’s skin. Being still relatively new to the team, Mingi heeded the words of his seniors and promised to stay cool headed and free from penalties. The promise lasted for a good ten minutes into the first period until Mingi sprung into action, violating a handful of rules and knocking Chan off his skates. Each and every game after that where the two hockey players simultaneously skated the rink was a brawl waiting to happen.

“The only time I think of you is either with a broken nose or a losing score.”

“So you do think of me. Well I’d say I’m flattered, but you're not really my type, Song. I’m more into lanky boys with freckles and not whatever it is you are.”

Violence was never the answer, was what a lot of educational books said, yet they could never explain the therapeutic release of pent up anger that released as Mingi’s fist would connect with the winger’s face.

Eyes steering away from Chan’s cheesed ones, Mingi pinpointed you moving further and further into the crowd, slowly weaving and blending in with the other people. While he wasn’t all that keen on talking with you — still having a trouble making out what he was going to say — he’d rather stand empty minded before you and not entertain the clown in front of him. Besides, if acted out of line his seniors would never let him live it down, maybe even go the great length of convincing their coach to keep him benched for the rest of the season.

“I don’t have time for you, Chris. We’ll settle everything on the ice, until then stay the fuck away from me.”

Shoulders colliding and their mouths curling into a C — one up and the other down — Mingi went after you just like he initially planned before the universe threw an obstacle in his way.

The multiple calls of your name echoed like a wordless siren song, manipulating you to slow down only to break off the cures and walk faster as you realized who the voice belonged to.

“God, you walk fast,” Mingi huffed as he caught up to you.

For an active hockey player you’d think his stamina would be out of this world. Apparently not seeing how his chest rose rapidly, stretching his gorgeous musc– 

“What do you want?” 

“How you feeling about food? You hungry? It’s my treat.”

“Ha-ha, you’re so funny.”

Mingi skipped in front of you and rotated midstep so he walked backwards facing you, “I’m serious. You up for some fried chicken?

“I already told you to fuck off, don’t make me scream stalker too.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Look I wanna make it up to you. At least take this.”

He searched for something in his jean pocket and then held out two crumpled bills. The glare he received was sharp enough to cut through concrete and Mingi gulped as the corners of your lips gravitated down. Your hand itched to slap the mocking papers out of his grasp and scream something along the lines of him being an asshole. As if he hadn’t humiliated you enough, now he was offering you money like you were a beggar.

“I’m not up for any of your jokes, Song. Just leave. Me. Alone.”

“No, I’m being for real.”

You hit the brakes and stared at him hoping to find the smallest of hints that he was fucking with you. “What game are you playing at, huh? You’ve already publicly humiliated me once, you wanna go for round two, is that it?”

He scoffed at your hostility and stuffed the dollars back in his pocket. “I’m not always out to annoy you, princess.”

The small movement of your brows drawing together brought out a forced cough. He had yet to make it up for you and he was already fucking it up.

“Believe it or not, but I just want to make things right.”

“Why?”

Mingi opened his mouth and closed it again. Words swirled in his head but no answer came to his mind. The question was righteous, he’d give you that. Coming up with an answer proved to be difficult when he too didn’t know what had gotten into him or why the sudden surge of goodness turned him into Lady Justice. A measly ‘I don’t know’ wouldn’t get him anywhere so with eyes that reflected the stars and lips forming into a pout he mustered the softest, “I actually… feel bad for the library… and your phone.”

Your eyes filtered over his face. This was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him and you had to remind yourself that this was the same guy who knocked you off your skates, coughed in your lunch and flicked your forehead every chance possible. 

“I don’t buy it.”

Turning on your heel, you decided to go the long way home, hoping he’d take the final hint and leave you alone. Honestly, you should’ve known better.

“You would if I was a certain figure skater.” 

Your head whipped back around so fast that you nearly got whiplash and he’d have to take you to the hospital. 

“That’s not true!” Your face burned at the mention of Hyunjin or perhaps at Mingi’s observation. Did he always keep tabs on you or the people you associated yourself with?

He stepped closer, your breaths mixing in the cold wind.

“Prove it.” 

The bear trap planted in the middle of the trail couldn’t have been more evident yet you still stepped on it with both feet. Sitting in a dimly lit coffee shop waiting for the tall bastard to come back with your orders was not on your yearly bingo card. There were a handful of reasons you agreed to his stupid idea. Your keys were in your other jacket, which was collecting dust in your wardrobe. Dasom was working on her project at Hongjoong’s so the apartment was empty. The sky was turning darker with each passing second and you were not about to sit idly on the stairs of your apartment complex, especially not at night.

A strawberry frappuccino slid in front of you and popped your thoughts like a dart would a balloon. Mingi hung his jacket around a chair opposite you and sat down, much like in the library. He avoided your gaze and took a long sip of his green tea mocha. You didn’t touch your drink despite it being your favorite — you pushed the thought of it being a coincidence or not to the back of your mind — and continued staring at him. He eventually faced you and nearly choked on the beverage. 

“Why are you staring at me?” 

“I’m admiring your act.”

“What act?”

“This goody-two shoe thingy you’re trying to pull off.”

He chuckled and looked down at his drink, fingers tracing circles on the paper logo. 

“You’ve really got your head way in on that. There is no act. I said it earlier, I just felt bad for getting you thrown out.” The cup was left alone and his eyes found yours. 

“And that’s what I don’t get. You’ve been a douche for a whole year, what makes today so different from last month? Why do you care now?”

“Are you going to drink that?”

You weren’t drinking anything until he fessed up and it was clear from the scrunch of your brows and how your lips pursed, conveying that perfect amount of sassiness.

Mingi never stopped overthinking what the hell he was doing. On the walk there, during his stunt of convincing you and in the short time he stood in line waiting to order. He racked his mind for answers and came up with nothing. The blob of anxiety dug into his abdomen the more he replayed the library scene. It was different from all his previous harmless teasing and bickering. It was fun, but not in a sadistic way. Seeing you get so angry and flustered over a simple nickname tickled his insides, yet he never intended to get you into trouble let alone be the reason you got scolded and on top of that kicked out of a public place under a hundred watchful eyes. But being Mingi, the guy you apparently hated the most, he couldn’t say all that. You’d really think he was playing you, which you had every right to believe.

With another sip of his tea, he shrugged his shoulders and said, “It’s called having a change of heart.”

You scoffed and allowed yourself to taste the stupid drink. It wasn’t like you could just go home anyway and it was easier to just give in and not make his money go to waste, no matter how annoying he was.

“Happy?”

A sarcastic hum weaved through the air of the chattering customers. The conversation ended at that point and you couldn’t stop thinking about your precious time being spent doing absolutely nothing. An all nighter was bound to happen or you’d say bye-bye to morning practice with Hyunjin.

The soft and irritating buzz of Mingi’s phone burned holes in his pocket. When you thought about it, the person hadn’t stopped calling him since you stepped foot in the shop and if you cared enough you’d tell him to take the call. Glancing down at the caller ID, Mingi pursed his lips into a line.

It didn’t take a genius to know why Intak was pestering him. The hockey team was supposed to have a movie night at Matthew’s. Intak and Mingi were assigned snack duty, but considering Mingi was at a coffee shop with you, the responsibility was pushed entirely on Intak, although he had yet to tell the younger boy. Mingi’s thumb slid over the off button and he pressed it twice ignoring the call. He was out of excuses to use and even if he had something up his sleeve, Intak would smell the bullshit from a mile away. They’d eventually justify his no-show as him having something better to do, assuming it was a quick fuck or something else involving a girl.

You, on the other hand, could jump from glee at the message on your lockscreen. Dasom was on her way home and you could finally cut this… appointment short. You slurped the last of your frappuccino and grabbed your bag and with a forced ‘thanks’ you were out of the coffee shop. How silly of you to think he’d let you off so easily. 

“What are you doing?” You asked as he walked beside you.

“What’s it look like I’m doing? I'm walking you home.”

Underneath all that douchebag exterior Mingi had some qualities of a gentleman after all and for once you didn’t fight him on it. This whole exchange was weird and you were certain that whoever happened to see you two together would think it was a PR stunt. God forbid Dasom or Keeho got a whiff of you being civil towards him. Dasom’s future poems would be dedicated to your and Mingi’s nonexistent relationship while an exorcism would be arranged by Keeho, claiming Mingi had bewitched you.

“You live quite far from campus.” 

“I didn’t ask you to walk me home.”

“I never implied you did, I simply stated a fact.”

Another wave of silence settled over you. Mingi wasn’t that bad when he was quiet. Maybe you’d sew his mouth shut like Other Mother did to Other Wybee. At least that way you wouldn’t be publicly ridiculed anymore. Not that you were ever planning for this to happen again. 

By the time you arrived outside your apartment a layer of pitch black darkness wrapped around the earth and you had to physically bite your tongue from asking if he’d be alright walking home alone. Keeho did mention one of his friends was jumped by a group of older men and Mingi, despite his size and shape , wasn’t invisible to weirdos this late.

“Uhm, what’s going on here?”

Both you and Mingi turned to your left where a very confused Keeho and an ecstatic Dasom stood. You really wished you’d fought Mingi on leaving you alone sooner because the fear of walking alone in the dark was better than convincing these two coconuts there was no budding romance between you. Sensing your discomfort, Mingi cleared his throat. A dust of red sprinkled over his cheeks matching his cold ears and nose.

“See you around.”

Before you could mutter a lame ‘bye’ he was gone, leaving you to deal with the aftermath of dumb and dumber.

“What the hell was that?!” Keeho screeched as you bolted for the bathroom. “What happened to him being a dick?!”

“He’s still a dick,” you called out and splashed cold water on your face. 

“A dick you want to su–”

“Keeho-ya!”

“I’m just saying! What am I supposed to believe when I see you being all cozy with your sworn nemesis?”

You swung the bathroom door open and pointed at Keeho who, mind you, had his arms crossed over his chest and one foot impatiently tapping against the hardwood floor.

“Okay, let’s get one thing clear. I was not being cozy with him.”

He rolled his eyes at that. “You’re almost as gullible as Dasom.”

Said girl whined in protest and threw a sock at the back of his head. 

“No. No, no, no. I’m being honest. He just walked me home–”

“Mingi walked you home?” Dasom peeped from her space on the couch. 

“Yes, the bastard walked me home after getting us thrown out of the library–”

“The library closed like three hours ago.”

“Yes, Keeho. If you’d let me speak I’d explain everything from start to finish. The library was full so he decided to sit with me then he got us thrown out and wanted to ‘make it up’ by buying me coffee or whatever. So we went to a coffee–”

Dasom sprung up from the cushions and grasped your shoulders, violently shaking you back and forth. “Oh my God! He took you on a date!”

The self-proclaimed dad fell back on the sofa and dramatically covered his parted mouth. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was on the verge of crying.

“I can’t believe this. My little girl is turning into a woman.” He wiped an imaginary tear and followed up the act with sniffles. “We can’t have this, I have to threaten him properly. Invite him for dinner so he knows he can’t just hurt my little girl withou–”

You pushed past Dasom and threw glares at the annoying people you labeled friends.

“Can you stop fucking around for a second? I’m serious when I say nothing happened.”

“Well, yeah. I sure hope it didn’t. I’m still calling dibs on Hyunjin.”

You blinked a couple times, not entirely grasping his words.

“You’re calling what on who?”

“Dibs on Hyunjin.”

“Keeho thinks you’re getting together with Hyunjin.”

“You’re betting on my love life?!”

Keeho waved his hand in the air and tucked his feet under his bum. “Oh, stop screaming would-ya? It’s not much of a love life to begin with. Besides, Dasom is the crazy one in the bet.”

“Who’d you bet on?”

The girl balanced on her tiptoes and sheepishly smiled. If Keeho betted on Hyunjin, then she had to bet on–

“Mingi.”

“You bitch–” 

The instinct to fight kicked in and you lunged at her. It wasn’t as if you were going to hurt her, maybe jank her hair or bite her arm, something light to scare her. Before you could leave a scratch on her, Keeho flew to her rescue and wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground.

“Woah everybody, let’s calm down a little bit!” 

With one last attempt to get one kick in you flung your legs out to which Keeho twirled you both around. 

“Count your days, Dasom!”

“Okay! You’re on time-out,” Keeho declared and carried you to your room.

As he was about to cross the threshold, you placed both feet against the wall on the sides of the open door and pushed back, propelling Keeho backwards. Poor guy almost lost his balance but regained it before you became one with the floor.

“Stop being a difficult little shit!” 

His right arm sneaked down behind your knees while the other supported your back and carried you bridal-style. He gently dropped you on the bed and you flopped like a sack of potatoes, limbs drawn out like a starfish. You could feel Keeho’s eyes on you, but it did little to break your stare from the ceiling.

“I’m not supposed to get any attention while in time-out.”

Keeho pursed his lips as his tongue poked the side of his cheek. 

“Mmm and you were supposed to hate Mingi but here we are.” 

He placed his hands on his hips. You were tired of glaring, arguing and throwing hands so you opted with a weak nudge of your foot towards the door. 

“Leave.”

Now that was very much out of character. He was certain you’d jump him too or chuck a pillow at him, but no. You continued laying there lifeless. You didn’t even spare him a glance. Keeho plopped down beside you, shoulders touching as he too stared at the creme colored ceiling.

“Did we go too far?”

“Nah, I’m just tired of Mingi. It’s like he’s always there, even if he isn’t. He always finds a way to get on my nerves.”

Keeho hummed, “I get that. I mean, not that you’d know but you and Dasom make me sick sometimes too.”

“Yeah, but that’s different. You get sick of being around us too much, not because we are making fun of you.”

“That’s true… but you know who doesn’t make fun of you?”

“...You and doofus number two out there?”

“Wooooooow, really?” 

A smile sneaked on your face.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Do whatcha want, Kyo. I’m just going to sleep the time-out… out?”

Extra sleep was never a bad idea and considering you were planning on pulling an all-nighter, you’d need all the rest you could get before that. You closed your eyes and rested one hand over your stomach while the other one went under your head.

“Hyunjin! Hyunjin doesn’t make fun of you!” Keeho yelped and breathed out in relief. 

It physically strained him to keep his mouth shut and it felt like his head was going to explode if he didn't mention it anytime soon. 

The idea of sleep was pushed to the back of your mind, along with all the other hundred things you postponed.

If there was anyone who kept dibs on people it would be Keeho. That man was up to date on all the gossip around the campus, new as well as old. Whoever was in the spotlight he’d know and then you’d know too. You’d usually tell him to shut it, not really being interested in other people’s business but this wasn’t just anyone’s business; this was about Hyunjin. The Hyunjin. Your crush, Hyunjin.

“Spill.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He jumped on the bed beside you, chin resting on both palms and feet kicking the air behind him. “Apparently our little Hyunjin-ie is interested in someone.”

Butterflies born from sheer anxiety and suspense fluttered in your stomach. Hyunjin liked someone. Giddy happiness welled over you. The same content feeling you’d get after passing a peculiarly hard exam or landing a difficult jump exploded in you. Your lips were forcibly curved in a shy smile and warmth settled in your stomach at the information. 

The boy you admired for quite some time now finally liked someone. The joy lasted for all of five seconds as the words really sank in. The lively butterflies building cocoons in you were annihilated by a big rock, and your childish smile was wiped like rain and other shit was flung from the windshield of your mother’s car. 

“Girl, why does it look like you’ve figured out Victoria’s secret?”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“I’m just saying how it is.”

That, he did. Keeho may have been an avid gossiper, but he wasn’t spreading lies. The things he heard and shared with you or Dasom were always true so you knew better than to question him and his sources. There was always that one-in-a million chance of him being wrong and it terrified you. It wasn’t like his sources couldn’t have misinterpreted it this time. What if they were talking about a girl named Hyunjin or Hyejin instead?

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s you,” he stated and picked on his fingernails. 

“Don’t fuck with me right now.”

“I’m not!” He threw his hands up. “But if you think about it, why would he agree to help you practice?”

“Because I was obviously struggling.”

“Okay, then explain why he asked for your number?” His head tilted as he raised a brow at your silence. “That’s what I thought. It’s you! Plus Jiung told me his crush was a figure skater. You are a figure skater!”

“That is a reach and you know it. It could be Yuna, she’s great. Pretty, nice and a figure skating prodigy.” 

“Okaaaay, but if she’s so great why aren’t they dating already?”

You flopped back on the bed, “Dude–” 

“No, I’m serious. If she’s so great and he likes her then what stops them from being together?”

“That could be used on me too?! If he likes me, why hasn’t he done anything?” 

“Cut him some slack, poor boy probably shat his pants while texting you.”

You swallowed down an insult and faced Keeho again. “How do you know about that?”

Crickets and whistling kettles.

“Oh, shit.”

“Yah, Choi Dasom!”

© HONGJOONGSART 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 11)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 4495

A/N: Yes I did drop off the face of the earth for a bit but can I make it up to you with an extra long chapter?

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 11, Next Chapter

Your fight was the last time you saw Remus Lupin that week, the next lesson you had with Lupin was taken over by Snape, even your tutoring was now with McGonagall. Lupin returned on Friday evening, you saw him in the great hall during dinner, and that's when you received an owl from him which was rare during dinner. He didn't pay you any attention, so you decided to take the letter to the lake and read it by yourself so no one could interrupt you and he couldn't watch or analyse you open it. You sat down by the water and opened it.

"My dearest, Y/N,

Oh how I've fucked up, in life constantly but with you in more ways than one. I don't know how to express my words in person I've never been good at words when it came to the important things like people. This is version five of this letter.

I traveled home after Monday. I couldn't bare to look at that desk, I couldn't go to Sirius as his home will forever smell like the first time I kissed you. When I arrived I found your letters, they made me realise you left to protect us from ending up in this very situation, I thought it was from fear of getting told off for being home late but really you knew that Percy was looking for clues. Unfortunately his letter found me first and convinced me to push you away, that I was risking too much by risking your schooling, I don't care about my career, what's life if you only live for a job but I don't want to mess up your future. I take my job very seriously but life is  more important.

You were right when you said I'm scared of having something good, however you were wrong when you said you were convenient. You're far from it. I might be lonely but that's not why I'm drawn to you, I'm drawn to your wit, I'm drawn to your smile and I'm drawn to your world. If we could spend forever sitting on my sofa listening to music and talking I would die a happy man.

I don't know what my feelings for you are but they are strong and they scare me, you're much more important to me than anyone else I know and I fear to admit it. New Year's Eve I messed up, if we were ever going to kiss I wanted it to be after a date where I show you how you're meant to be loved and offer you the world not drunk on the steps of my best friends house.

I don't know how you feel about me and if I hurt you too much, if that's the case I am terribly sorry I wish I could make it right. If an inch of you still thinks I'm a decent man I have two offers for you.

A. If you want to remain friends and go back to last year's rules "no dear, no alcohol and no kissing" meet me tomorrow evening in my office for tea and tunes, or let me know in your own way

B: If you are up for an adventure my dear and willing to see what happens if we risk it and you still feel any attraction after my poor behaviour: Meet me tomorrow morning at 9am in Hogsmeade, next to the three broomsticks.

C: if you simply hate me like you said (at least 4 times using my full name I'm glad you don't know my middle name) all I ask is show up to my lessons, we can arrange another teacher to take over you 1-on-1 schooling but please show up. I promise to pretend I don't think you're the most amazing witch and woman I've ever met. Please don't let me ruin your exams or future.

Yours, Remus John Lupin.

P.S. To answer the question in your original letters from the 1st of January keep my sweater, it will simply be a painful memory if you choose C and I like the way it looks on you if you choose B ."

You felt a mixture of excitement and relief with his letter, it felt like everything has magically explained itself. Remus was an anxious writer with a tendency to sabotage his own happiness but he was trying. He was trying for you.

The next morning you woke up early to get ready to see Remus, you didn't know what to expect but you were excited. You arrived in Hogsmeade early knowing Remus as someone extremely punctual you were shocked to find Remus wasn't there. You waited until 9:05 but nothing, so you began to walk back at towards the castle. "Wait!" Remus said and you turned around to see him holding two cups of coffee, one of which had obviously slightly spilled on him. "It's with milk!" He said holding a coffee forward towards you.

"Thank you." You said grabbing it.

"I'm glad you came." He said softly.

"I'm glad you sent that letter." You replied. "You have coffee on your sweater." You pointed out reaching in your pocket for a tissue.

"I didn't think through apparating with two cups of coffee.' He admitted with a shy smile as you dabbed his jumper dry. "Thank you dear." He continued softly.

"Are you ready to go?" He asked.

"Where?"

"London, grab my hand and hold your coffee tight." He said reaching out a hand and you took hold of it and you appeared in Holborn, London.

"I thought that wasn't possible in Hogwarts." You admitted.

"That's why we met in Hogsmeade dear, sorry about being late, there was a queue." He admitted showing you the coffee.

"I thought you may have changed your mind." You admitted.

"I was scared you wouldn't come." He admitted.

"Liar you got two cups of coffee." You pointed out.

"I had a feeling you'd show up, now dear, see today as my way of apologising to you. I have a small plan but if you want to do anything just tell me." He said and at that moment you turned the corner to the British Museum. "Have you been here before?" He asked.

"Maybe once or twice as a kid."

"Okay but have you ever had a magic tour of this place?" He questioned and you shook your head. "Great." Remus led you into the British museum, he looked quite excited and more young now than ever. "Now not everyone knows that many treasures in this building are actually artefacts from great magicians."

"So they stole from wizards too?" You asked and Remus laughed.

"They sure did, now not many people know how some of these great people used magic to help muggles and how some of this stuff is either cursed or enchanted." Remus continued as you walked through the beautiful foyer.

"But I'm sure you do." You said teasing him and he nodded.

"I'm not just a pretty face, unlike you I spent a lot of time in libraries."

"Are you saying I don't study? I spend a lot of time in my professors office."

"You spend a lot of time listening to music and distracting me while I try to mark work, dear." He shot back and you laughed. "Now as I was saying, I may not be a rich man or have much to offer but I have a lot of knowledge."

"You should be a teacher." You said with a wink.

"You should be a comedian. Now enough talking watch this." He said and then one of the Egyptian statues moved and stood up.

"Holy shit, are you allowed to do that?" You asked looking around.

"Don't worry no one will notice." He said

"What was that?" You asked.

"It's a Pharos tomb guard, they're enchanted to stand when an attacker approaches, they have a lot of ancient magic in here."

"So why didn't they do that when they were removed from the tomb?" You asked as you and Remus continued to walk and look at the different statues.

"They did, they did for a very long time, however when dark wizards realised there's money in helping archaeologists they helped lift curses or limit enchanted objects. Those guards were stopped from being the soldiers they were, the only thing left is the command to stand when you summon them." Remus explained, you were impressed by his knowledge. You walked through  the ancient Egyptian part for another few minutes before Remus took hold of your hand and hurried you to the Ancient Greek part. "This bits my favourite, sorry is it okay if I do that?" He asked gesturing to your hand.

"It's encouraged." You blushed.

"Tell me when I cross a line Y/N, we still need to talk about us but first I want to hold my part of the deal, showing you who I actually am."

"And who are you profesor?"

"A lonely bookworm with a furry problem and a teaching job to pay the bills."

"Don't forget the cottage." You winked making him laugh.

"Now these are the Parthenon marbles, the Parthenon was being used as a base to store ammunition by the Ottomans and some idiot messed up and blew up the whole thing."

"Some idiot is that the technical term profesor?" You poked him in the arm and he rolled his eyes. You found him very attractive when he was more casually dressed, with his jacket drooped over his arms and a warm sweater on.

"It is now." He replied. "Long story short some guy named Lord Elgin went to Greece and asked the Ottomans can I have this? And they said sure and he took it, as lords usually do. It's missing a lot of parts as they're back where they belong but a small part of me feels lucky to have them here as they tell a story. You see if you come over here you'll see the Centaur." He led you over to the far wall. "He tells a story of the battle between Centaurs and Lapiths at the marriage feast of Peirithoos. And if you do this even with it's missing parts you get to watch it." He lifted his wand and the marble moved. It began plaything the story throughout the panels as if they were alive just like the paintings in Hogwarts. "And if you think that is cool look behind you." You turned around and the main sculptures were all moving, they were missing parts but they felt human.

"That's incredible, show me more." You expressed with a big smile and Remus couldn't help but smile back. "Come on." He said putting one arm around you while his other arm still had his jacket drooped over it. And like that, he led you through the museum holding your waist and making your heart flutter at his actions and brain amazed at the world of knowledge he was sharing with you.

It was one of the few times you saw Remus truly happy as he immersed himself in history. It was beautiful to see him care free not putting himself down, not talking about his condition just being himself. As you walked out the museum hours later he still had a hand around your waist. "Now dear what would you like to do?"

"Should we go get some food?"

"What a wonderful idea, there's a great pub not too far from here, only thing I need to get some cash out as I'm low on muggle money." He explained.

"I can pay."

"I'm sure you can but you won't I'm taking you out on a date it's my treat." He said as he rushed in front of you to the cash machine. "Okay" he said looking at it. "Okay, okay." He continued looking for where to insert his card. "Just a moment." He said after inserting it and just starring at all the options on the screen. "Merlin." He whispered quietly while pressing random buttons.

"You do know how to use it?" You asked suggestively.

"Of course I do." He said but he was obviously struggling.

"Here let me help you." You stood alongside him pressing the buttons for him. "How much do you want to withdraw?"

"£20?" He said hesitantly.

"£20?" You confirmed.

"£50."

"£50 are you sure?" You asked in disbelief.

"I'm not good with this, I haven't been in a muggle pub in forever I don't know the prices these days. I'm sorry, get however much you think it'll cost for us to have food. This is so embarrassing." He admitted.

"£50 it is, Remus the muggle world is my world it's okay to ask for help, I literally didn't know you could aparate in Hogsmeade." You calmed him while you finished the transaction.

"Yeah that was silly, everyone knows-"

"You don't know how to use a cash machine Remus!" You interrupted.

"I'll shut up. Now off to the pub, thank you for your help." He took your hand and lead the way. The pub was quite busy but you expected it as it was lunchtime on a Saturday. It was nice to sit opposite Remus having a meal, flirting, chatting and being yourselves. You didn't feel anxious like you did sometimes on dates, you felt like you were hanging out with a friend that you had a crush on, he would make you blush a lot with his words but he was also clumsy and stumbled a lot, something you never saw in him at Hogwarts. He ordered fish and chips and knocked over the sauces with his hand, when he went to pick them up, he hit his head on the edge of the table, you found it all cute and amusing but he was obviously embarrassed. "Am I making you slowly think I'm an idiot?" He asked after the incident and you simply replied with. "Only a little bit, makes you less intimidating."

"Am I intimidating?" He asked.

"Not at all." You said and he shook his head while laughing. After you ate you decided to take a walk along the river at first you began to talk about meaningless stuff like how you missed the Christmas lights or how Remus enjoyed the fact you can find oyster shells and old pipes on the rivers edge from the Victorian era. However the conversation changed when Remus asked. "What do you see us as?"

"I don't know." You admitted a bit of anxiety started to grow inside you.

"I don't know either, but I think we need to set some ground rules."

"What do you suggest?"

"Defining what's okay, like for example I think if either of us is developing strong feelings like love for the other we should cut it off as we don't want to hurt each other and with our current position we can't be in a relationship and be student and teacher." He said his eyes moving all over the place but avoiding you and he used his hands to emphasise what he was saying.

"How come?"

"Well for starters we can't do this all the time, if I was in love I would like to offer that person all my love, I would like to take them on dates, I would like to walk around and hold their hand, I would like to bring them to see my friends and so on... we can't do that, it will hurt to love someone but not be able to live in public, I don't want to risk the pain for either of us." He explained and you nodded.

"So what can we do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to continue to relax in your office with you." You began and he nodded. "I want to be able to kiss you, I want to be myself with you, I want to smoke on the bridge with you and when no one is watching I want to be held by you."

"And we can do that we can just not love each other, and give each other a relationship that's the line."

"So we can see other people?" You questioned him and he looked puzzled.

"I would prefer not, I can't stop you but I may not feel comfortable with sleeping with you if you're kissing other men." He admitted.

"I'd prefer if you weren't kissing anyone else either... Can we do this sometimes?"

"Of course dear, however not as much as either of us would like to, maybe once a month or every so often not to raise suspicions."

"But I can come see you in your office every night?"

"My door is always open for you dear."

"Can I sleep in your office?"

"Where on the desk?" He remarked in a snarky way.

"Is that where you want to fuck me?" You matched his energy y.

"Well it's not for sleeping." He winked and the grabbed your hand."Enough serious conversations, let's just live a little before we have to worry about rules. Today, exists in a world of its own, what do you want to do?" He asked with a cheery tone.

"I mean checking out that desk sounds fun but maybe before that we should enjoy London."

"I'm already enjoying it right here." Remus said stopping and pulling you in closer, putting his arms around your waist. "I think I like London." He said looking at your lips.

"Oh really." You stood on your toes to get closer to him and he leaned down and kissed you lightly.

"Alright let's go I have an idea." He said once again grabbing your hand and leading the way. You walked into a small cosy record shop. You both started looking through the shelves showing each other records you thought the other would life and either replying with a "yes" or "not my style" once the yes like became tall enough you walked over to the record played and started listening to them, there was only one pair of headphones so you had to share, bringing in your heads close as you listened to the music. "Oh listen to that trumpet." You said listening to a Chet Baker vinyl. "Do you like it?"  Remus asked and you nodded. "This is one of my favourite songs, the earnest vocals, I fall in love too terribly fast, for it to ever last..." you began to sing along to the song and Remus smiled warmly at you, he couldn't help but kiss you on the cheek. "Let's buy it." He said.

"What Remus it's quite expensive?"

"That doesn't matter today dear." He said putting it back in the vinyl sleeve and taking it to the till. "Besides there's nothing more I want to do than lay in bed with you and listen to this here vinyl." He said while paying for the vinyl, he thanked the cashier a grumpy old man who didn't seem to care about your conversation. You continued to walk through London for a bit longer but it started to get colder and you both decided it was time to head home. "Okay, we need to aparate back separately as it may be busy with people at this time." He began. "You'll go first and I'll follow, I don't want to leave you alone back here, I'm sure you'll be okay but I don't want the stress." You nodded in reply. "Okay dear, once you are back it would be a good idea for you to go to your dorm or walk around somewhere far from my office, and in about thirty minutes from now come to my office and we can continue this evening." You nodded in reply and that's when he gave you a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll see you soon my dear." He said and you left. As you walked back to Hogwarts all the emotions rushed in, the excitement, the love you felt but shouldn't, the confusion from the conversation about not falling in love. You felt very overwhelmed but you also felt so many positive emotions that you couldn't wait to go visit Remus in his office. It was weird not being able to travel back with him after you were able to spent so long acting like a couple but it made sense you just wished it could be different. You walked back to your dorm room where Percy was sitting on the chair. "Hi Y/N." He said as he saw you coming in, you didn't reply. "Still giving me the silent treatment? You know I haven't done anything wrong all I wanted to do is spend time with my friend." He continued as you walked away.

"Our dear brother causing you trouble?" Fred asked as you walked past him.

"I'm going to hex him." You replied as your turned to the girls chambers.

"Be our guest." George said before you went into your chambers. It was good that Percy saw you, helps avoid his suspicions. You waited the thirty minutes before heading straight to Lupins office, just in case you checked if Percy followed you but he didn't so you were in the clear to go meet Remus. You walked through the corridors with a hint of excitement as you approached his office, you knocked on the door and Remus opened it almost immediately. "Hey you." He said with a smile letting you in and checking behind you if anyone was in the corridor, he closed the door and turned the lock before leading the way upstairs to his office where he also locked the door after you came in. "Hungry?" He asked as you sat down on the sofa.

"More peckish."

"Perfect, I have some cheeses here and some bread."

"How fancy." You pointed out looking at the small charcuterie board he prepared.

"Only the best for you." He said as he sat down beside you, a record he already had playing way playing in the background as you both sat their indulging into the different flavours. "Thank you for joining me today." Remus suddenly changed the subject.

"Thank you for showing me everything, and for the food and the vinyls, everything." You said a bit overwhelmed by his generosity.

"Come here." He gestured for you to come in closer, you lay on the sofa with your head on his crotch and he stroked your head lovingly, slowly playing with you hair. "I love how soft you hair is." He pointed out as he continued to stoke your hair. A few minutes later the vinyl playing finished and Remus gestured for you to sit up so he could change the music. "How about we try this one out dear." He said pulling out the new Chet Baker vinyl and your heart warmed. "Anything to drink? I've got a nice bottle of wine I've been thinking about opening."

"That sounds great."

"The music or the wine?" He clarified.

"Both."

"White or red dear?" He asked while opening a cabinet.

"What do you prefer? Maybe red?"

"Red it is." He pulled the bottle out and began to open it placing two glasses on the table in front of you and filling them up. "To wonderful day." He said raising his glass as he sat down. You rested your head against his shoulder as you sat in comfortable silence.

"You know moony, I prefer this when we're allowed to cuddle on the sofa and kiss sometimes." You broke the silence.

"Me too dear." He bought his hand up to your cheek and pecked your lips slightly before going back to the resting position. "I craved this every time you sat here and I sat at my desk aching to kiss you." He admitted. This was peace, you were in your safe place.

"Are you aching to kiss me now?" You asked quietly.

"Always." He whispered into your ear placing his glass down on the small table in front of you and then taking yours to do the same for you. He leaned in to kiss you, as the kiss depended you ended up laying on the sofa. He was above you his lips and your lips colliding as you both struggled to catch a breath. You felt him getting hard as he slowly moved his body up and down over you, you reached up for his shirt unbuttoning it and pushing it off his shoulders. "You're not wasting any time." He said between the kisses. His arms moved under your ass and he scooped you up in one movement so you were now straddling him, he pulled your shirt up and unclasped your bra as you began to grind on him making him harder and harder. He pulled away from your lips to suck on your nipples, the sensation made you moan in reply he grabbed your hair and pulled it down roughly making your head tilt back as he continued to worship your body. "Let's take this somewhere more comfortable." He said lifting you up and carrying you.

"You don't want to do it on your sofa?" You asked curiously.

"Oh I do, and my desk and every wall however today I will show you how you're meant to be loved not fucked." He said while pushing the door to his bedroom open and throwing you down on his bed. He unbuttoned your trousers and pulled them off along with your underwear, getting down on his knees and kissing your legs all the way up to your pussy. His hand reached up to your breasts where he started massaging them as his tongue flicked your clit making you moan. As he continued this movement with his tongue he moved his hand to slowly slip his fingers inside you pulling in and out while starting to alternate between sucking and licking. "Merlin you're either so wet or I'm drooling like a dog over how good you taste." He went straight back in and continued until you started begging for him as you felt yourself getting close. "Beg for me again." He growled as he moved to be just above you.

"Please." You barely whispered and he smashed his lips into yours, unbuckling his own trousers and taking them off while still keeping his lips on yours. You felt him thrust inside you leaving time for you to adjust, even though you remembered his size it shocked you how deep he filled you. "Are you okay dear?" He whispered checking in on you. "Mmhm." You confirm and he picked up the speed. He kissed you while going faster and started to slowly move his kisses down to your neck and breasts. You felt yourself get close as he ramped up the speed. "Cum for me dear, I want you to feel how good I make you feel." He said kissing his breath a bit. You couldn't hold it any longer and came which made him cum in you, you felt the warmth inside you as he slowed his pace and rested more of his body weight while moaning into your lips. He kissed you deeply once more before pulling out and laying down beside you. You were both panting as you lay there, Remus moved the covers and covered both of your bodies and kissed your forehead. "Good night dear." He whispered and you placed your head on his chest hugging him as his arm was around you. "Good night, Moony."

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

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[unholyhelbig]

werewolf kate RAH i love your fics

Title: What? I've Seen Twilight [A Once Bitten, Twice the Idiot Oneshot]

Summary: It's been six years since reader has been out on her own, but now that she and Kate have an apartment in the city together, the last thing they're expecting is old company.

Trigger warnings: Sadness, angst, burns (Physical), general emotional distress, therapy,very brief mentions of assult, and spelling mistakes.

A/n: I went a little wild with this one. It's way longer than I intended, but jesus, did I have fun.

Read the Full Series:

[Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six, Part Seven]

Kate Bishop’s height advantage killed most situations. She could ride every rollercoaster, and one could spot her in a crowd of people as they bustled in and out of the New York Subway system. She could easily lead you, just the same, her large hand engulfing yours and making sure that you’d be able to stick together.

Kate hated her height sometimes. When she was a child, she was approached by her high school gym teacher that begged her to be on the basketball team. She was lanky and awkward, sitting on a whisp of a bench.

She’d wanted to join the team, but her father was vehemently against sports. He said that it worked her up too much and she’d be a danger to society if her adrenaline became too high for her to manage, as it often was. It was just one of those rules that were accompanied by breathing exercises and the occasional sedative.

You’d never made Kate feel an aversion to her height, in fact, you utilized it to your advantage. You’d curl up in her arms, slotted against her body. Her height could nearly swallow you whole. It was no trouble for you to ask for her to reach for certain things that were out of your grasp.

She had a horrible advantage when it came to hanging things, however. Everything was crooked, including the painting she was frustratingly trying to level over a crisping water stain. She’d worked up a sweat, blowing strands that had fallen from her ponytail from her face.

You came up behind her, wrapping your arms around her toned stomach. You were too short to rest your chin on her shoulder, so you settled for nuzzling into her back instead, breathing in the lemon scent of her. Kate let a smile spread across her face, sighing into your warmth. “Remind me why we decided to move out of the compound again?”

“Because we’re engaged and wanted some form of privacy.” You mumbled into her spine.

She beamed and turned in your arms. You much preferred this side of her. You were able to tuck your head under her chin. The painting took a hard left and slid into a diamond shape on the wall. A rumbling growl moved through her chest, vibrating against your ear.

“Was that your stomach or your frustration?”

“I think maybe it was both. Where’d you put the takeout menus?”

“Drawer by the fridge, we can’t make a habit of ordering out though.”

Kate detached herself from you and crossed the mostly bare living room to the kitchen. She rifled through them until she found her prize, a menu from the Tex-Mex place that had opened up down the street. They had massive portions, and that always worked in both your favors with the appetites you carried.

“We’re not going to make a habit. I just think we deserve a little treat after moving everything up six flights of stairs. Don’t you?”

The motivation to cook had left your body between floor three and four. You were determined to prove to Steve and Natasha that you were both more than capable of being on your own. It took months of convincing, and you’d even considered making a power point to demonstrate how responsible you’d be.

It didn’t’ come to that, just a promise (and then a pinky-swear) that the two of you would return back to the compound the week of the full moon. It was an easy compromise. In fact, it even made you feel safer. There was infinite space, and it was the only place you’d ever gone through a transition. Dozens, at this point, possibly hundreds.

“Fine, just this once, and only if you get extra nachos.”

“Okay, bossy. You can brave the copious number of stairs and pick up the order, then.”

That seemed like a fair enough deal. You dawned your coat, the sound of thunder a few miles away having reached your ears. Most things, you’d learned to tune out; the sound of traffic, voices from the multiple families that lived around you. But you would actively seek thunder, enjoying the rain and the dryness you could secure.

Kate pressed a kiss to your cheek, giving your arm a squeeze, a silent plea to be careful. You always were, both at the compound and here during your trips to the city. The apartment building the both of you had rented from was far from swanky. The hallways were lined with polished wood and a fresh paint-job made it look semi-presentable.

It was the quintessential first apartment experience that you’d been craving. It made you feel normal. Living here with your fiancé. A small smile worked its way onto your lips. This was a big step, possibly the biggest you’d taken since you’d followed Kate to the compound in the first place. To your family.

You shoved your hands in your pockets as you walked down the hallway, nearly brushing shoulders with a woman who had her head turned down, struggling to find her keys. She grunted, struggling to keep a paper bag filled with produce righted.

“Jesus Christ,” her muted growl alerted you more.

Not even a full day in the city and you decided to break one of Natasha’s rules. Don’t involve yourself. Which you thought was overkill. She became strict in that way, the insinuation that you shouldn’t talk to strangers on the tip of her tongue. But you weren’t moving here to be a recluse. A simple favor wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

“Here,” you scooped the bag gently from her hands, saving a particularly ripe orange “Let me help you with that.”

“Oh, thank you. I know that paper bags are great for the environment, but they turn to mush when it rains. It makes everything ten times harder.”

Her words died in her throat when her eyes met yours. You took a defensive step back, your mouth suddenly dry and muddy. Those eyes. You cursed yourself for not knowing sooner. She’d straightened her hair, wore a suit that was wrinkled from almost an hour of transit.

She looked older, tired around the eyes. It had been six years.

MJ was at a loss for words, just as you were. Her groceries were still in your hand, the bag finally giving way and spilling oranges, apples, and two soft peaches onto the floor. Neither of you made a move to gather them.

“Let me help you pick these up.”

“I think you’ve done enough.”

The two of you remained frozen. You’d moved in three doors down from someone you’d shared your first three years of college with. The last you’d seen her, she’d been wolfing down mac and cheese, looking queasy as you’d left your key on the coffee table.

A crack of thunder snapped you both out of your staring match. Kate could hear you, you knew she could. It wasn’t that she pried but she did keep an ear out for the cadence of your voice. You didn’t want to worry her, and you certainly didn’t want MJ to see her. Not yet, maybe not ever.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” She turned away and struggled to stick her key in the lock. Her hands were trembling. She worried her lip between her teeth, a nervous habit that reminded you of when she held her tongue. She often failed.

“Okay, alright.” You threw your hands up in an act of surrender, scooting past her, careful to avoid the fallen fruit. “I’m sorry… about your groceries.”

You made it three more steps before her voice rang out again.

“About my groceries?” Her voice was harsh, you winced, stopping in your tracks. “You’re apologizing for ruined produce after what you did?”

At this, you turned, a small bit of anger in your stare. Maybe Natasha was right, as she usually always is. You should just keep your nose down, stay away from other people at least while you got settled. You’d been plunged into ice water, the realization that this city may be gigantic, but so incredibly small.

MJ closed the distance between you, her breath hot on your collarbone. It was startling, but your wolf reacted as it typically did, without fear and with a heir of competition. It figured you threatened, your nails curling into your palm hard enough to draw blood.

“You know, the police didn’t take us seriously. We went to them a week after you left, and they wouldn’t let us file a missing persons report because you left willingly. America, god, she wasn’t convinced. She spent months putting up posters around campus, at train stations. And people called, but not about you. Just to be needlessly cruel.”

The sting of her words made you tremble, your eyes downcast and your hands shoved back in your pocket. Each breath you took felt like needles being shoved forcefully into your throat and twisted until it touched your esophagus. You were going to vomit.  

“One second you were there, and the next you were gone, y/n. We never stopped searching. Anyone who looked like you, smelled like you… just reminded us that you’d run off with some stranger after being an absolute psycho for the week. I mean, for fucks sake! Your mother was devastated!”

“My mother?” Your eyes finally found purchase in her own.

“Yeah,” MJ breathed out, shoulders slumping. “Or did you forget her as well?”

“I didn’t…” You took a step back. Tears threatened to spill over, so you averted your stare back to the ground, quickly wiping them away with your fingers. “I could never forget about any of you. I left to protect you.”

“From what?” She’d gotten quieter, her voice breaking. She looked like she wanted to reach out and embrace you, but stopped herself. “Because America is going to be here any minute, and god help me, y/n, if you don’t have a better answer than that, you can’t let her see you. You can’t put her through that again.”

You took another step towards your apartment. You’d lost your appetite, your sureness in each step that you took. There was a roiling pit in your stomach that threatened to make your breakfast reappear. MJ watched you for a few moments. You were retreating again, and the sadness in her eyes cut into you like a finely sharpened knife.

She let out another breath and knelt down to collect the fruit that had splayed across the floor. She averted her gaze and you let her. There was no explanation that you could muster up without risking everything you’d worked so hard for, every moment of pain that ripped through you once a month. Years spent learning control.

The anxiety had fully built up in your chest by the time you made it the two doors down to your apartment. You shut it as softly as you could, pressing your back against the wooden door slathered in a deep forest green that reminded you of home. Your home.

The two of you had fought so diligently to get out of the compound and now all you wanted to do was retreat back into solitude, away from the world and the people you had wronged long ago. They were easy to push to the back of your mind when you didn’t see them every single day.

Of course, you never forgot them, you couldn’t. But there was a clear separation between your life before that night in the woods, and your life after. You had long ago admitted that you much preferred this one. Even if you did have dreams of finding your mother when you had the chance. Finding America and MJ. This was certainly not on your terms.

Kate was in front of you instantly, cupping both your cheeks and running her thumbs over the dampness. She didn’t’ say a word, and you were suddenly thankful for her inhuman hearing capabilities. You wouldn’t be able to explain, to tell her what made your throat so incredibly tight with grief.

Her height made it easy to tuck yourself against her, quivering as you cries were muffled against your chest. She radiated a warmth that calmed you like no other. Part of your nature, the connection the two of you carried. She could take your pain away, just as you could do the same. It evened your rapid breaths, her hand cupping your head.

She shocked you, her voice a low whisper. “I think you should tell them the truth.”

“What?”

Your voice was nasally and marred with snot. Kate gave you a sympathetic smile, moving her hand through your hair. She’d seen you at your absolute worst, and you weren’t exactly a beautiful crier. Her statement was jarring enough, though disarming.

“All those years ago, I told you that you’d be able to come back once you gained control of your wolf. And you’ve done that, you put in the work, you’ve embraced what we are. The reason for going to the compound in the first place was to protect the ones you love, and you can still do that.”

She dipped her head and your forehead pressed against hers. You stared into her startlingly blue eyes. They were genuine and so full of love.

“I mean it, sweetie. They deserve answers, I think we both know that.”

“Yeah… they do.”

It was easy enough to slip a note under MJ’s door. You figured she went to work early and returned late. There was a solid window of time for you to act. The letter contained your phone number, and an offer to talk, if she was willing.

It took three agonizing days of pacing the small length of the apartment, painting and repainting the bathroom, and busying yourself with little tasks. Kate had mastered hanging artwork and the two of you had finally made a trip to the grocery store instead of ordering from pizza places and diners that did take-out.

Kate was laying on her back on the second-hand sofa that the two of you had purchased and dragged up the stairs with little to no difficulty. She was skimming through a book she had to read for one of her classes, and the slow rhythm of her heartbeat had lulled you into a less than peaceful sleep.

Your cell phone was clenched in one hand, hanging off the side of the couch, full body weight snuggled up close to Kate, a blanket spread across you both. When your phone buzzed you shot up, knocking your forehead against Kate’s chin, she let out a startled grunt.

“Sorry, baby” You soothed your hand over the slowly growing red spot on her skin, simultaneously staring at your phone.

Unknown [3:00pm]: I’ll consent to dinner tonight. America may or may not be there.

Unknown [3:02pm]: 6:00, don’t be late.  

“I thought you said MJ was the nice one.” Kate set her book aside, peering at the messages you had received.

“She is… was. I don’t know anymore.”

Your antsy energy seemed to work in your favor when it came to preparing a dinner that was actually edible. Wanda had been teaching you to cook for the last few years, and it had been a difficult skill for you to pick up. She’d helped you master a dish from her birthplace that had quickly become one of Kate’s favorites.

She leaned against the counter and watched you cook as she always did, stretching up to retrieve the spices that were a little far past your reach. She handed you the paprika, kissing the back of your neck as you placed the chicken in the pan. You worked nervously, and methodically.

Despite Kate’s constant reassurances that they would love it, you weren’t much concerned about the food choices. Of course, you wanted it to be edible. But it could have been pizza all the same. There wouldn’t be much eating, you were sure. Even your appetite had been spoiled.

You panned the chicken onto a plate of rice and left it on the counter for Kate. She glanced down at it with confusion and then back up at you. “I’m not going, am I?”

“Darling, I would love nothing more. But, I’m certain that you being there will exacerbate things.”

Kate frowned, her lip jutting out in a borderline pout. You scoffed, gripping both of her arms. “They don’t know you like I do, Katie. They don’t know you at all.”

“Yeah,” She sighed “I know you’re right. This is just a hard thing to do and I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I’m not alone. You’ll be listening the whole time.

It was a comforting fact, but did nothing to quell the swirling in your stomach when you stood in front of MJ’s door. It was much too late to turn back, though everything in your body screamed at you to do so.

Before you could knock, she opened the door. She dawned an oversized flannel and a t-shirt for a band that you didn’t recognize. Her hair was damp, the scent of mint from her bodywash enveloping you. You’d missed the smell, missed her, but didn’t make a move to advance. She sniffed the air herself, raising an eyebrow. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say she was impressed by the meal you’d shoved in Tupperware.

 “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I almost didn’t.”

She narrowed her eyes at you but opened the door wider and gestured to the living room vaguely. You took in the deep blue walls, and the multitude of thrifted artwork that made it feel homey as opposed to cluttered. There was a warmth to her apartment that you and Kate hadn’t yet cultivated.

In a midcentury modern chair next to a large record player, was America. Your grip tightened against the dish, careful not to shatter it, something easily done with your strength. Spilling chicken paprikas all over the carpets would not a good impression make.

America’s rural eyes scanned from your boots to the collar of your shirt, stopping just shy of your own stare. She’d aged, but it was less noticeable through her fierce scowl. A black t-shirt hugged her frame, her hair curly and flowing across her shoulders. Tattoos stretched evenly over her biceps and forearms, ones you didn’t’ dare move to get a better look at.

She stood, setting her glass of wine down on the coffee table. MJ worked the Tupperware from your hands. She moved silently towards the kitchen. You could feel the tension in the air. It made your wolf nervous. You swallowed back a whine.

Her eyes flashed in anger. “It really is you. When MJ told me that she’d run into you, I didn’t believe her. I couldn’t, because if you’ve been alive this entire time, and just chose to keep us in a constant hell of wondering, then I’d never be able to forgive you.”

“You have every right to be angry.”

“Maldita derecha, I do!” She shoved you back. You were startled by her strength, but still caught yourself with a small step back.

“Hey, relax. She’s here to explain, right?”

MJ stood behind the kitchen island, her fingers drumming on the countertop. Maybe she’d been given a chance to cool off, though there was still trepidation in her stare. You let out a small breath, throat suddenly tight.

“What?” America shoved your shoulder again, you could smell the alcohol in her breath “Does this bother you? Are you going to tuck your tail and vanish for another six years?”

Again, she pushed you back, this time with more force. You stood strong, letting her show her rage, her hatred towards you. Hell, you hated you in this moment. Your skin prickled, seeing her as a threat. You were sure that Kate, down the hall, was pacing with the same pent-up worry.

MJ urged “Meri, come one, let her be. We’ll eat dinner, and she’ll tell us what happened.”

“And what if we don’t like the answer?” She turned her venomous stare on the other woman. “What if we prefer that she had died and spared us all the pain?”

A brittle silence fell over the room. You were trapped within the walls of the apartment, ears ringing. Even if you could focus your mind hard enough to hear past it’s confinement, you didn’t want to. Your blood was rushing hard enough to create a ringing in your ears.

MJ had dropped the fork she was using to shovel food onto respective plates. America’s shoulders dropped. She opened her mouth and closed it again like a fish deprived of water. Her voice came out in a sand-paper whisper. “I didn’t mean that.”

“No, you did, and that’s okay.”

“It’s not.” MJ had abandoned her task and instead flopped down on one end of the sofa. She moved a throw pillow and gestured for you both to sit. “Both of you, we need to talk about this. It’s defined us for too long and we won’t get anywhere by hurling horrible words at one another.”

Cautiously, America returned back to her chair and you sat stiffly on the other end of the sofa. It would be better for them to both hate you. But, MJ’s usual rationale had kicked in and that scared the hell out of you. You ran your hands over your jeans, trying to find purchase in them.

America’s sharpness was back. “Well?”

“Okay, alright. Just… I need you both to keep an open mind before I get into this. I’ve never had to explain what happened before and, well shit, it’s going to be a lot to take in.”

You pleaded silently with them, flitting your eyes from one to the other. MJ nodded first and eventually America gave you a course gesture that you interpreted as agreeance. You could hear both of their hearts beating, perhaps harder than your own.

“The night before that stupid frat party, I didn’t fall asleep in the library. Something happened.”

“lo sabia.”

“I know you did, which is why I did everything in my power to avoid the both of you until I left. I didn’t know what was happening and the last thing I wanted to do was throw you into something that I couldn’t even begin to understand. I was feeling weird, and overwhelmed. Confused. You’ve always been too good at reading me. You’d both know in an instant that I’d been attacked if I was truthful with you.”

“Attacked?” MJ rasped, “You could have come to us, y/n. I’ve been fighting every single day of my career to make sure that Universities are a safe and forthcoming place. Even with campus police being absolute garbage, we would have found some way to help.”

You looked at her with soft admiration, guilt soaking your voice. “It wasn’t like that. I was walking home from the library and knew that I was being followed. I thought it was a person at first, but it wasn’t. The faster I moved, the faster she did. It didn’t matter how quick I was, is the point. Because it wasn’t a human that attacked me, it was a wolf.”

“A wolf You’re expecting us to sit here and believe that a wolf somehow escaped a zoo and miraculously hunted you down? I’m sorry, baby, but that’s the most bullshit excuse I’ve ever heard.” She laughed humorlessly and moved to stand.

“I told you to keep an open mind.” You pleaded, “I’m begging you, please. Just let me finish. And if you want me to leave after that. If you both want me to leave, then I will. You’ll never hear from me again.”

It would be easy to return to the compound, shield yourself from the world and make sure that neither of them had to live with the turmoil you’d caused all those years ago. You could feel sweat at the back of your neck, mouth dry in comparison.

She leveled you with a skeptical stare but sat back down, this time swiping her wine from the counter. She took a long gulp, the red staining her lips with a pink tint. The quiet urged you forward and your stomach clenched in nausea.

“It had bitten me, right through the shoulder and it was some of the most intense pain that I had ever experienced. I was certain that I was going to die there, alone and no one would find me for weeks, maybe even months. I have never been more terrified.”

Your hand moved up to rub the pulsing scar just below your t-shirt. You could feel the hardened tissue, the indents that Kate’s teeth made before they tore through tendons and ground your bones to a shattered powder.

You pulled the fabric away, shivering from the suddenly cold air against your skin. MJ gasped, closing the gap between the two of you on the sofa. She was gentle, running her own fingers over the scar, the large-mouthed pockmarks that could only be that of an animal.

“Jesus Christ, y/n. Does it still hurt?”

“Not anymore. It just serves a reminder, is all.” America was looking at you in disbelief, her confidence in your falsehood wavering. “When you called the next morning, I was just thankful to wake up, and rushed back to the apartment so I didn’t worry you anymore than I already had.”

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” America asked.

You shook your head “I couldn’t understand what had happened. Just like you, I didn’t think there were wolves in New York. If I was having some type of break due to stress, I didn’t want to drag the two of you down either.”

“You can’t just decide how we’d react to things, y/n. If you had asked for help, explained what had happened, we would have been there for you.”

“I know that… and I was going to tell you both, I was. But by the second day, the bite was just gone. There was no evidence that anything had happened, and I was starting to doubt myself. At least I was, until Kate.”

That fury returned to America’s eyes. If you didn’t’ clock it in her stare, you would have in the way she smelled. The metallic edge overtook any other scent in the room, including the boisterous spices on the Paprikash. “Oh? Is that her name? I figured we were chasing a ghost for all those years.”

“We know who she is. Your mother… she was insistent that your father hire a private investigator. She knew that your behavior was out of the ordinary, but he wasn’t convinced, so she fought him tooth and nail. They had a name, and a last known address. But that was it. Her trail went cold too. It was like the two of you just vanished into thin air.”

Your heart seized at the admission, but you swallowed it back, locked it away for something to deal with later. It was one person at a time, and your mother was untouchable, something you refused to acknowledge until you were standing on her doorstep with your apologies and your broken sobs.

You cleared your throat, making a point to shove your hand with the simple golden band on it into your pocket. That was another conversation you weren’t willing to have at this point.

“Right, yes. Kate. She’s helped me tremendously over the years.” You drew in a breath, bracing yourself for the next statement. “In fact, she caused it.”

“She… caused it? Please, y/n. I may not like the girl but what you’re insinuating…”

“You’re saying she’s the one that bit you?” MJ let out a nervous chuckle “That, or unlatched the cage at the zoo.”

Another silence fell over the room. You gave them a nervous smile. God- this was absolutely harder than you expected. They didn’t’ say anything, they just stared at you blankly, and then at each other. Then, it was back to you. There was something akin to pity in their stares that you didn’t appreciate.

They thought you were insane and suddenly, it was like the glass coffee table had shattered and they were afraid that if they stepped too hard, it would cut the soles of their feet. MJ even reached her hand out and placed it on your knee. You shivered at the touch.

“Listen, I know neither of you believe me, but it’s why I had to leave.” Your voice broke. “I was so afraid that I was going to hurt you. I-I mean what if I lost control? Back then, I didn’t have a handle on any of this, so I went to a place that was safe. A place that taught me how to control it.”

“It being… Lycanthropy?” America stood up now, started pacing from the edge of her chair to the front door and then back again. “You know, we worked a case ages ago and the fifteen-year-old son of a wealthy couple believed that he was a werewolf.”

“Meri, please. Don’t psychoanalyze her.”

“Shouldn’t we? Y/n, this is an actual thing. It’s called Lycomania. It’s a form of psychosis, and with the right medications, the right therapies-“

“It’s not psychosis!” You stood from the couch, suddenly feeling frantic, like a caged animal. She was a social worker, or at least, that’s what she was studying to be. From her wording, you figured she’d gotten there just fine. “I’m not making any of this up.”

“It’s a little hard to believe, is all.”

MJ had reached up from the couch and took your hand, soothed it over your knuckles. It was like a horrible game of good cop, bad cop, and you wanted no part of it. You knew that there would be some disbelief, but the way America’s fingers inched towards her cell phone worried you.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know. It’s impossible to believe, but you both deserve the truth. I need you to believe me.”

“I believe that you believe.” America said softly, “Please, y/n/n, just come get checked out with us. If you’re a… werewolf, then what’s the harm?”

You took a deep breath, glancing down at MJ who hugged a throw pillow flush against her chest. She was pleading with her stare, begging you to agree. And America, God, she looked like she was about to bolt or throttle you. But there was a kindness behind her eyes that you missed dearly.

“This was a mistake. Look, I just wanted to come here and apologize for everything I put you through. I want you to know that I mean it, and you both are very important to me.” You took a step towards the door, rolling your eyes when America stepped in front of it, crossing her arms over her chest. “Seriously?”

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“If you’re a werewolf, and this isn’t some type of mental break, then prove it. Show us what you’ve got.”

A dry laugh escaped you, one of disbelief. You glanced back at MJ, she looked nervous, but didn’t’ object to the demand. You’d grown so used to living in a home with ten other people who never doubted what you were, because they were the exact same.

Your ‘wolfy’ attributes were mostly limited to the night of the full moon. By all accounts, you were normal the rest of the month, and things that weren’t normal often were disguisable. Sometimes, if you roughhoused with Peter or even Clint, your eyes would catch the color of the sunset, glowing in response to their own. But there were no sudden outbursts of sharpened teeth and extended claws- not anymore. You’d fought so hard to contain it.

If you let the curtain slip, even this once, would you be able to get it back up? It was another two weeks until the next full moon, and by then, you were sure they’d grow tired of waiting for you to prove yourself.

With a groan, you walked over to the kitchen. MJ practically threw herself over the back of the couch as you started to rummage through drawers, not finding anything but plastic forks, and a butter knife that certainly wouldn’t do the trick. “Jesus dude, this is not cutlery.”

“I’m not home often,”

You turned the closest knob on the stove and watched as the electric cooktop started to glow an angry red. This was going to fucking suck. Just because you could heal, didn’t mean you enjoyed utilizing the perk. It came in handy when you’d broken two fingers sparring with Natasha, and again when Tony had taken you on a long-winded hike and you’d lost your footing.  Both still held the same amount of pain that was expected.

With a deep breath you splayed your hand on the burner before MJ or America could object. They both made distressed noises in the back of their throat, the sound of your skin against the intense heat sizzled with a popping fierceness.

“What the fuck!” America clawed at your wrist, struggling to pull your hand away. With your strength, she didn’t’ get it to budge “Y/n, stop!”

When you were satisfied enough with the heat eating away at your skin, you released your hold. Your palm was angry, already blistering. Some spots bloomed a darker red, wounds close to the base of your ring finger where the gold band had heated up enough to cause some stinging damage.

“Oh my god, I’m going to vomit.” MJ moved her forearm over her mouth, swallowing heavily. “I’m calling an ambulance. Do we run it under cold water?”

“Relax, just watch.”

“Relax! You want me to relax?”

Her jaw snapped shut, head lilting to the side. America still gripped your wrist, watching as the redness quickly faded away to the smoothness of your palm. The blisters seemed to vanish, and the bleeding split by the edge of your ring sealed back together. You could still feel your hand throbbing, but flexed your fingers to prove your point.  

“You wanted me to prove it, and I didn’t much feel like ripping your throw pillows to shreds.” You snatched your hand back from America, twisted the ring around in a nervous habit. “Can we take the psyche unit off speed dial, please?”

“No, no, keep it up for me.” MJ leaned her back against the island, trying to steady herself. “That just… your hand was… did you see that?”

America whispered, her stare suddenly fuzzy. “Yeah, I saw it.”

You flicked the stove off and crossed your arms over her chest, letting them take a few moments to relish the quiet. You were feeling a bit too self-satisfied considering the circumstances, but enjoyed the fact that you had stunned them into silence.

“So, you left with this Kate chick because she turned you into a werewolf and then you’ve what? Been hiding these last six years? It’s hard to vanish in the 21st century. Nearly impossible.” America said, voice quivering.

“I went to a place where there were others like me. They taught me how to live with this, how to control it. They’re my family.”

“Your pack?” MJ asked. “What? I’ve seen Twilight!”

You laughed “Yeah, my pack. Kate included.”

“no confío en ella.” America growled.

You let out a sigh of relief. You’d take it. For now, you’d take it. The tension in the apartment had lowered a few notches, enough for your stomach to clench in hunger. It made an audible growl. You hadn’t been able to eat for the last few days, worry enveloping you.

America pulled her jacket from the back of the sofa. “You two eat. I’ve got a few case files I have to finish. Y/n, it was good to see you. I hope… take care of yourself. Okay?”

“Okay,” The word came out as a breathless whisper. Even if your objections weren’t trapped in the netting of your throat, you wouldn’t’ have had a chance to say them. She was slamming the door behind her, shaking the photos on the wall.

“She’ll come around,” MJ squeezed your shoulder, giving you a wavering smile before she started to divide the food with her plastic fork. “In the meantime, I have so many questions.”

[genericpuff]

Genuinely I would give anything to hear your thoughts or read more critical analysis of yours on other webcomics writing (*slides you Marionetta* I like the webtoon but there are some things in the writing that I'd like to see be discussed critically more often but the fandom focuses way too much on shipping. sighs..)

Anyway, you probably have been asked this before but are there any webtoons in particular you would recommend? :D

Oh lord, you don't know how many times a week I get asks in my inbox asking for my opinions on webtoons they're reading. It's really sweet that people wanna hear me talk about other works outside of LO, but unfortunately I just don't have the time to read as much as I used to, even keeping up on LO lately is getting really difficult 😅 I'm definitely keeping a list though of works to check out!

That said, I try not to read series on the basis of criticizing them because frankly I just... don't want to spend time reading something if people are only looking for me to rag on it? 😆 Of course I know that's not the only reason, I know there's also just the element of seeing me talk extensively about other works the way that I do with LO, but it's not really something I can turn on and off like that, I have to get really into a series to want to talk about it to that extent. So it often comes down to just luck of the draw :'0

Right now the series I'm keeping up the most on (or have completed and would absolutely 100% re-read):

Alfie (18+, it's porn with plot but the plot is REALLY GOOD , I SWEAR LMAO the art is gorgeous, the characterization is IMMACULATE, and it ironically tackles the subject of purity culture way better than LO ever has lol)

Theia Mania (the creator is often in my comment section / neck of the woods, she's been working on an Abduction of Persephone retelling for a long while now and has also tackled other myth retellings in her style! I always love seeing new pages of her work in my feed :' ) <3)

Tales from Alderwood (if you like fantasy and comedy, this one's great, the plot's really starting to get interesting and it's just got this really great sense of humor about it)

The Black Parade (this one's REALLY interesting, it's a comic-stylized version of My Chemical Romance's The Black Parade, using the songs as narration and sometimes even dialogue to tell a visual story, it's really cool and the art matches beautifully with the lyrics and style of MCR!)

A Tale of Two Rulers (this is a Legend of Zelda fancomic that poses the question, "What if Zelda and Ganondorf got married to solve their political crisis?" It updates a lot slower than most of the other comics I follow but the art and writing is so worth it <3)

Dogs of Future Past (and p much all of Lynx's Undertale comics which can be found in the link, seriously, THESE are the comics you wanna read if you wanna get into Undertale fanworks, they are PEAK)

Tamberlane (this one's an anthro comic, I normally don't read anthro but this one actually gripped me by the throat, the art is gorgeous and the character arcs so far have been great!)

The Mafia Nanny (okay it's legit so funny that I'm including this one here but I've been reading it the last couple days after seeing it basically beat out LO at the top of the trending tab for a couple days, so I figured I'd give it a shot, at first I was like "great more tropey shit" but the more I read it the more it's actually started to get pretty good, I'm holding out and hoping to god it stays that way LOL it's not especially deep or anything like that, but it's really fun and cute to read and the shipping of the main character within the narrative isn't too self-absorbed which I can always appreciate, I'd honestly be 100% fine with it if it didn't turn into a romance)

City of Blank (I talk about this one a lot here, but it's one of my favorite Originals right now, the art is super polished and the writing has gotten INTENSE, go check it out if you want some fun action / sci-fi storytelling!)

Time and Time Again (a time-travelling vampire and his werewolf boyfriend get into all kinds of misadventures, what more could you ask for?)

Touch of Divinity (like the Mafia Nanny, this is one I just started reading, it's got a very interesting premise so far and I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes!)

[gladumfdoodles]

hey guys ignore the fact that i've been notably absent from original posts on tumblr lately, i'm here with some funky life series stats for those of you who write canon compliant stuff (and also for those of you who just like numbers) so a while ago I made a spreadsheet with a time converter on it, basically taking IRL time and transferring it into minecraft time. and thanks to a dream i had last night that i can't stop thinking about, i'm going to take the life series and start making numbers happen

numbers below cut cause it got quite long, i do recommend you read it though, i'm very excited by the implications of them :3

okay, so, i'm pretty sure that a session of the life series is 3 hours? i could be wrong, maybe it's 4, but i swear i heard someone say it was three hours before so

3 hours IRL = 9 days in minecraft (a day in this instance is a 24 hour period including the day/night cycle)

that means one session of the life series is over a week long for the cubitos/characters!! no wonder they get attached to each other so quickly

let's look at 3rd life: grian's series is 8 episodes long (i think most people's are?), which means that they spent 72 days in that series. 72 days!! that's two and a half months in a highly stressful environment, two months is a long time for a death game!

don't think about the cactus ring. don't think about them reminiscing on the past 72 days they've spent together, all of that time side by side. don't think about grian standing on the edge of the cliff, realizing that he killed his partner, his closest ally, his closest friend, the one person he spent months with.

don't think about renchanting dying seconds after each other, which in minecraft time would been around ten minutes. don't think about martyn kneeling at the side of his king, then standing to face desert duo, only to die shortly after.

last life was even longer, 9 episodes, that's 81 days. 11 weeks, nearly three months. i don't actually remember a lot about last life to be honest, but don't think about all those alliances crumbling to pieces after being together for so long. don't think about how the boogyman curse was something that lasted 9 days, 9 whole days of uncertainty and fear, staring at your teammates and your friends, wondering if they're going to kill you when you turn your back.

double life was shorter, only 6 episodes, but that's still 54 days! not quite two months, but close! also if you want to really break down the times in that series, that means scar didn't know who his soulmate was for 9 whole days. it was probably around the one week point that he decided to give up and just make the jellies his soulmate, which makes sense given the timeline! I don't know too much about the divorce quartet, but you can absolutely crunch the numbers to see how long they went without their respective soulmates, which could shed light on why they did what they did

don't think about pearl, alone for 54 days.

limited life was the same length as 3rd life, 72 days, but let's think about the implications of that. with the lengths involved and the amount of deaths, someone would have died basically every day, especially towards the end. imagine the psychological impact of that, with 3rd life deaths were few and far between (or at least it felt like that). with limited life? it was a constant event. also, Grian would have been AFK for 9 days. 9 days. don't think about the other two bad boys waiting for him to wake up, waiting for him to respond, beginning to feel scared as the one week point passed and still nothing from him. don't think about it.

secret life was the same length as last life, 81 days. They had 9 days to complete their tasks each session, which feels like a lot until you take into account the gravity of the tasks. could you dig a hole IRL that was four meters by four meters down to a very deep point in 9 days? I mean, maybe you could, i don't know you, but that would be pretty difficult for me.

also something i found funny is that jimmy would have been watching over grian for 9 days. can you imagine having jimmy in your head for 9 days??

anyway this got very long and rambley, i just....the time implications for the life series are so incredible.....you could break things down bit by bit, put times on everything, there's so much there that can be added.

i love this series

[bqstqnbruin]

Mat Barzal Teacher AU

@nicohischier listen I will crtl f if I want to but I didn't do it for this one

But this is the 9th one I've written and posted since Monday so that's gotta be something, right?

Teacher AU Series

Warnings: swearing

WC: 813

______________________________

“What are you doing?” Thea asks, walking into Orla’s room. 

“Looking at my glassware.”

“Is it nice to look at?”

Orla sighs, closing her cabinets. “I have to replace like half of what I bought brand new last year because the students broke everything.” 

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, oh, shit.”

Orla gets her computer out of her bag, where it had been sitting since she arrived in her classroom for the first time since the last school year ended, pulling up the Flinn website and praying that they had some sort of sale going on. Not that it was likely for the stuff she needed, but she could still have hope. “How much will it cost you?”

“The smallest beakers I need are five dollars, the largest are twenty three.”

“Each?”

“Each,” she groans, drawing the end of the word out. 

“Oh, shit.”

Orla laughs. “I think we found our new catchphrase for the year.”

“A downgrade from last years, ‘oh, fuck,’ if I do say so,” Thea laughs. 

Orla stares at the screen, adding everything she needed to buy new into the cart and watching the total cost increase by the second. “Why don’t we work at a school that pays for everything?”

“Because I don’t think those schools exist.” The two of them sit there for a second, Orla staring at her computer trying to figure out how she was going to pay for everything she needed for the school year. “Oh, do you know who your new humanities partner is?”

Orla shrugs. “Whoever that new French teacher is, I haven’t met him yet.” 

Thea sighs. “I got paired with Richard,” she grimaces. “Why do we have to do this again?”

Orla sits up straight, folding her hands in front of her on her desk and tilting her head back so her nose was pointed into the air. Thea burst out laughing, knowing that she was imitating the vice principal they both hated. “To ensure that we are providing the most extensive cross-curricular education to our students.”

“More like to ensure that we have more busy work we don’t want to do. I mean, what cross-curriculum stuff can we do between biology and English?”

Thea looks at her friend as she puts her feet up on the top of the desk she had commandeered. “You teach AP Bio.”

“And?”

“Don’t they have to read and comprehend long passages just to write essays about them?”

“And?”

“Babe, that’s English. Richard is the perfect person to pair you with.” 

“He’s a dick.”

“In more ways than one.”

Thea laughs, getting up to head back to her classroom to do some work before they had to head to the auditorium for their first week back meetings. She turns back to Orla “Don’t you know French?”

“Not really, no.”

Thea, with her hand on the door, stares out the window in the center. “One of your ex’s did, though, right?”

“Two; blue eyes and nostril boy.”

Thea nods, a smirk on her face that told Orla she wasn’t going to like whatever her friend was about to do next. 

Orla sat back in her chair as Thea finally left, the door closing behind her. Why would she mention Orla’s exes? It wasn’t like either of them would be a teacher. Blue eyes moved away a while ago, Orla losing track of him after he ended up somewhere in Canada. Nostrils, however, was still somewhere on the island, which she knew because she ran into him way too often for her liking. They broke up because Orla thought he was way too self-involved; stopping just short of an actual temper tantrum when he didn’t get his way. 

Granted, they were younger and much more immature when they dated, but it was still enough that Orla knew she didn’t want that.

She shrugs it off, going back to the Flinn website to see if she could pull any of their free resources that could be useful in order to make her feel better about the nearly one thousand dollar glassware purchase she was about to make.

She’s interrupted by a knock at her door while she’s reading about a nuclear decay inquiry lab, not looking up to see who walks in when she calls for them to enter.

“Orla?” she hears a familiar voice, her head snapping from her computer to see the one person she didn’t want in her classroom.

“Mat?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I teach here,” she says, hoping he can’t hear the shaking in her voice. Having a short conversation with him when they randomly happened to see each other was fine, but this? “What are you doing here?”

“I work here.”

The realization of what Thea’s facial expression meant finally dawned on her. You could see who was coming into the building from the hallway outside Orla’s classroom thanks to the weird design of the building. Thea had to have seen Mat coming in. “You’re the new French teacher.”

“You’re my curriculum partner.” 

“Oh, shit.”

[letstevengrantsleep]

Part Ten

Previous part

Eddie Munson x reader slow burn

part summary: you follow in Eddie's footsteps and tell Rob exactly what he needs to hear

word count: 1,117

warnings: swearing

a/n: bit of a short one but but but we're getting there.... soon we'll be getting some quality aloonnneeee tiimmmeee with our eddie baby. It's on the horizon !!

main masterlist series masterlist

You shuffle into the kitchen, the headache slowly setting in from the night before. Eddie is sat at the breakfast table, shoveling cereal down like he hasn't eaten in weeks, which makes you crack a smile as he looks up at you.

"Morning rock star," he teases, nodding at your faded band tee. "How's the head?"

You groan, sliding into a chair at the table. "Honestly? It feels like someone's used it as a drum kit."

He stands to pour you a cup of coffee, freshly brewed, and hands it to you with a wide grin on his face. "Well, I wasn't going to say anything but since you've forced my hand," he chuckles to himself as he moves through the small kitchen, "you did come in pretty hyper last night."

You take the cup from him gratefully, almost groaning as the hot liquid soothes your sore throat. "Yeah, it was fun. Might need a new liver though." You smile through the headache as Eddie slides a plate of eggs and toast over to you. "Oh my god Eds, you're a lifesaver. What would I do without you?"

You say it jokingly, with a lopsided grin, but you really do mean it.

"Probably still have a hangover tomorrow," he teases, sitting back down to finish his cereal. "Good night then?" He asks, and you can hear the undertone in the way he says it. Have you successfully shucked off the weight that was hanging over you yesterday? Are you feeling okay? Can I help?

You bring your coffee up for another sip as you mull the question over. "I think for the first time in a long time... I'm happy just being me."

It's a heavy answer, considering what he actually asked, but as you watch Eddie nod his head, you know he understands.

"Well, if it's all the same to you rock star, I'm liking the new look."

That makes you laugh, shake your head and roll your eyes at him. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get too caught up in it, I've had this stuff in my wardrobe for years."

"Yeah, and it's a crime that it's never seen the light of day." Eddie jokes, leaning back to take a look at the band tee you've thrown on for breakfast this morning.

Scoffing, you take a bite of your breakfast before changing the subject. "So how was your night?"

"Eh," he shrugs, "saw Argyle. Smoked a little, talked about life, the universe, and everything in between. You know how it goes."

"And did you find the meaning of life on your travels?" You tease, knowing how philosophical Argyle can get when he smokes.

"Almost," Eddie says with a laugh. "We got sidetracked with a deep conversation about pizza toppings."

-

The morning goes on and you head to work, unable to avoid it for another day. You arrive early, despite your persistent headache, and for the most part the morning goes as you'd expect. A few familiar faces walk through the door, older couples looking for summer reading, some children picking up the latest installment of their favourite series... everything seems very normal, and for that you're grateful.

It's easy to busy yourself by putting together new displays, your mind drifting as you work. These quiet moments really are a blessing, with that familiar scent of books and the soft rustle of people flicking through pages. It's nice.

Ding.

The bell above the door chimes, and through instinct you turn, with a happy customer service smile on your face, only for it to be wiped clean off when you see Rob walk through your door.

You watch as he scans the shop, looking for you, and don't have enough time to duck behind a shelf before he spots you, calling out your name. His tone is casual, and honestly it winds you up. "Do you have a minute?"

Quickly you take a step back to reach the counter, busying yourself with something (mostly nothing) behind there, mainly to put a physical barrier between the two of you.

"What?" You deadpan, sounding utterly fed up already.

"I didn't know, and I'm sorry." He says, hand on his heart as if that will make the situation any better. "I should have known how he would react," his eyes flick over the fading bruise on your cheek, "and I shouldn't have told him it was okay to go to your home."

Slam. You drop a hard back classic down onto the counter.

"You know what, Rob?" You smile though gritted teeth. "I'm fed up."

"Wha-"

"No," you shake your head, "I'm talking."

You watch as his mouth shuts just as fast as it opened.

"Just over a week ago you stood right there and told me that you'd be there for me. That you understood the kind of man that Jake was and that you could be there if I needed someone to talk to. I called you almost every day for a week, told you how much I was struggling, how much it fucking hurt that someone so close to me could betray my trust the way that Jake did. And what did you do, Rob?"

You wait for him to answer, watching with a hand on hip as he mumbles "I betrayed your trust?"

"You told my abusive ex boyfriend that it would be okay if he came to my fucking house, Rob!" A few customers lift their heads, suddenly intrigued by the conversation.

"I'm so sorr-"

"Oh my god, save it." You wave him away, fed up of hearing his voice, "don't come here again, please." You say as you walk off, heading into the back room ignoring his cries for attention as you close the door. On the grainy computer screen you watch as he shuffles his way out of the building, shoulders slumped with a pitiful look on his face.

It's only after he's gone that you realise what you've done, and as the adrenaline slowly starts to wear off you sit down and just... cry.

What the fuck is happening to your life that this is what you're doing on a Saturday morning?

You pick yourself back up, dust yourself off and head back out into the shop. A few older customers give you apologetic looks and you want to scream at them for it. You don't need the pity of strangers. You don't need to be gawked at like you're about to fall apart.

Fuck this.

There's only one thing for it, really. And with two weeks of self-given holiday left not taken, begging to be used, the answer is simple really, isn't it?

You need a break, desperately. A rest from the headache.

Taglist:

@sapphire4082 @twirls827 @bewr0210 @maskofmirrors @saramelaniemoon @halialex1119 @mugloversonly

[gaelicwordofthesometimes]

So you want to learn Scottish Gaelic

These are just some resources and organisations I have found/used in my learning so far

Sabhal Mòr Ostaig - The Sabhal Mòr Ostaig is a Gaelic school on the Isle of Skye. They offer both in person and long distance courses in a variety of Gaelic related subjects and a variety of levels. Obviously I wouldn't recommend taking on a full university degree unless you're really interested in that as it's a lot of time, money, commitment etc, but I've listed them because they're a major contributor to the Gaelic learning world. They also have online summer courses for learners of various levels

Duolingo - This is a great starting place. Their Gaelic course was created in partnership with the the Sabhal Mòr Ostaig. The full grammar notes for the course can be found here. From what I've found, this course is estimated to get you to roughly A1 going on A2

LearnGaelic - This website has a mixture of basic grammar intro lessons as well as a dictionary. I find that the dictionary sometimes has trouble filtering relevance of vocab, but overall I find it quite helpful

Gaelic Books Council - The Gaelic Books Council supports Gaelic writers and publishers, promoting and selling Gaelic books in a range of genres. They have both original works, and popular works which have been translated into Gaelic

Acair Books - A Stornoway based publisher of Gaelic, Scots and English books. They have a large selection of children's books which are great for beginner learners, but also have adult books

The Scottish Book Trust - A charity dedicated to reading and writing in all of English, Scots and Gaelic. You can browse their website for a range of poetry, prose, learning resources, writers' awards and fellowships

Am Faclair Beag - The Little Dictionary. I find this dictionary is slightly better at filtering by relevance than the LearnGaelic dictionary, so I often use it to cross reference. LearnGaelic has a tendency to give you the most obscure translation first, whereas Am Faclair Beag will usually prioritise more common translations

Speak Gaelic - Speak Gaelic is a series created by BBC ALBA. There is a YouTube series with Joy Dunlop, a podcast with John Urquhart, and a website with quizzes to test your learning. The initial series is roughly A1, with some of the later episodes aiming for A2. A good intro, though the website is known to be a bit glitchy

Beag air Bheag - Little by Little. Also by the BBC, this is a slightly more advanced series than Speak Gaelic, but hosted by the familiar John Urquhart. I can't find the exact CEFR level, but I seem to remember it being advertised as B1-2

BBC ALBA - The BBC's Scottish Gaelic programs. I occasionally scroll through their iPlayer. Some of the shows have captions which I find helpful, although not all do. Children's TV is always a great way to learn a new language as it is designed with children learning the language in mind. I think I saw they had some Moomin Valley last time I looked

Faclair nan Gèidheal - The Dictionary for Gayls (gay/queer Gaels). This is a great resource filled with a tonne of terminology relating to the LGBTQ+ community. This is where I get vocab like tar-ghnèitheach and neò-bhìnearaidh from

Open Book Reading - An organisation who run Gaelic speaking, reading and writing sessions both in person and online. I'd recommend looking at their Eventbrite page

The Mega Folder - I'm sure people have seen me talk about this before. I'd personally recommend Scottish Gaelic in Twelve Weeks

Editing this to specify that Gaelic means the Scottish variety. If people keep tagging this as Irish I swear to God

[stayandot8]

Chapter Four: Just One Yesterday

"If you think this story has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention..."

Genre: angst

Relationship type: established gf/bf

Important Contents: bar setting, so mentions of alcohol, chris is a lowkey-highkey dick, swearing as usual, 18+, mentions of dr*gs, death of a child (if i miss any, please let me know)

a/n: well. it's been a long time coming but here we are, at the end of it all. thank you to everyone who has read this series. i've put quite a bit of work into this and i hope you enjoy it. if you were hoping for a happy ending tied up with a bow, i'm sorry to disappoint you. but this was the ending i decided on a while ago and it feels right to me. so. sorry if you hate, but not sorry actually. thank you to those who encouraged me to keep writing this, you know who you are. thank you for the motivation because my ADHD was close to taking over and i was ready to quit this. i'm glad i didn't. but anyways.

thank you.

-Sparkles

WC: 11.8k

last part l masterlist

~

“Come on, Chan! Won’t you play with me for just a minute?”

*

We were all sitting around, brushing glass off the ripped booth seats. The stuffing from inside them was scattered around us, Jeongin trying his best to sweep what he could from around where we had gathered in the corner. His face was creased with frown lines. 

“Innie, your face will freeze like that.” It was my best attempt at a joke to lighten the mood. Jeongin returned it with his attempt at a half-hearted smile and kept sweeping, gathering pieces of glass with every stroke. 

There was another long pause of silence. Hyunjin huffed and continued surveying everything around him with the same pained expression Jeongin was wearing. Changbin was staring at his feet while Felix was sitting between them and was laying his head on each of their shoulders. He would alternate between the two when the other was moving too much. This was the most solemn I had ever seen him. He had checked online to see if any other places in town had been hit with a break-in, but none were reported. So he resolved to be here for moral support for anyone who needed him, which was the two he was between at the moment. 

Minho was just plain pissed. He had gone missing for the time being, off to recover the camera footage from the ones he had put in. He hadn’t said a word to anyone, opting for the silent treatment. Chris just looked terrified. He was leaning against what was left of the bar and staring at the words on the wall behind it, saying something to himself over and over, just barely audible if anyone were to listen. Shaking his head at the spray painted words and fidgeting his fingers, picking at his cuticles. It was a complete turnaround from the man I had seen over the last few weeks. That one had been confident and ambitious, his wit sharp and his mind in the zone of whatever he was doing. But the one that was standing across the room… He was small, with the weight of the world on his chest, not just his shoulders. And it would crush him if he let it.

Han was sitting beside me, holding a large rock in his lap and staring at it. We had assumed that was what they had used to break in without a key, whoever they were. Han was staring at it like he felt sorry for it, 

“It never asked to be used like that.”

“That’s the strangest reaction I’ve ever heard.” And that was that. 

Seungmin had disappeared with Minho, looking at the outward damage and taking notes and pictures for the insurance company. He had sprung to action after Minho stormed off, the only other one thinking logically about the next steps. When someone offered to help, he would shoo them away and say he had everything he needed. 

I wasn’t saying much, trying to break up the long silences with something here and there. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t help anyone, no one needed anything. So I sat, trying to sort out the emotions I felt that someone had broken in and destroyed the only place I had ever called a home. It had to be someone with a grudge of some kind, something against someone here. I thought of asking everyone to come up with a list of anyone they could think of with enough motive to do something like this. 

Next thing we know, three cop cars pull into our parking lot. Three burly men and a younger one got out of them and carefully looked over the place before asking for someone. Seungmin went up to them and started telling them everything they needed to know; we had all just come back from vacation to find this and we had no suspects. Minho had come storming in from the office, holding his laptop under his arm. It was closed and he was still looking pissed, so it was safe to assume he didn’t find anything of use. I shot him a questioning look in case he looked my way, which he did but glanced over me and headed straight outside to the police. They conferred for a while and we all just watched them in silence. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chris wipe his eyes and head out the back door.. 

*

“Help me… It hurts… Why does it hurt?...”

“Shhh Danny, it’s okay. Don’t talk, it’ll only make it hurt worse.”

“Chan… It hurts…”

*

“Hey.” I touched him gently on the shoulder, the cigarette that appeared out of nowhere was dangling from his fingertips. He hadn’t lit it yet, but the lighter was in his other hand. He was staring at the sidewalk, lost in thought. When he finally glanced over, his lip was quivering. He looked shaken. “Where did you get those?” He wiped his nose with his hand and sniffed. 

“I hid them back here just in case I would need them. This would be…one of those times.” I was confused. “It’s all my fault.” He took a shuddering breath and let it out, staring at the sky.

“What are you talking about?”

“I did this. I brought them here.” He whispered to me. 

“Brought who here?”

“They found me once and now they’ve come back to get their revenge. It’s all my fault.”

“Are you talking about those guys I saw you with that night?” He nodded slowly. 

“I ignored them when they reached out and this is what I’ve done. To everyone. I put everyone in danger.” His eyes had welled up and his breathing was frantic. “It’s exactly like you said would happen. I should’ve left when you caught me.”

“Chris…”

“No, I should have. I was stupid for thinking this would be far enough to keep them away. For thinking I could forget every decision I’ve made until now. All my choices have finally caught up to me and now…” The first tears had now made streams on his cheeks. “Now someone else has paid the price. Again.” 

I didn’t know what to say after that. Something in me told me there was nothing I could’ve said to him in that moment that would’ve comforted him or brought him an ounce of peace. So I just stood there beside him while he cried and thought about…whatever he was thinking about.

We just leaned against the fence in mutual silence, the unlit cigarette still in between his fingertips. After another moment, he tossed it on the ground and turned on his heel. 

“I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you later.” I nodded to his back as his muscles shifted beneath his t-shirt. I probably should have asked where he was going, and in hindsight I definitely should have.

*

After Seungmin and Minho were done with the police, they sent us all home so they could speak with anyone who might have seen anything. We were all too frustrated to do much of anything so we all met up at Felix’s bakery. He said a sweet treat might help us lift our spirits. So everyone minus Chris sat in the summer heat outside smelling the baked goods being prepared for us. Felix had closed down shop while we were gone so the place was empty, some people walking by were craning to see if the open sign was turned. It was not; it still read CLOSED.

Everyone was just as defeated as they were when we left, except now with plates of pastries in front of them, uneaten. Minho was staring at a danish on an orange plate as if his combined powers of will would lift it into his mouth if he wished it hard enough. When he decided it wouldn’t work, he just slouched further into his metal chair and sighed. 

“This is fucking ridiculous.” He tilted his head to watch the clouds go by. “Who turned off the cameras before we left?” 

“No one did. They had to have turned them off right before they did it. We have the footage of us leaving and the days after. They shut off right before the vandalism. Whoever it was must have known where they were to turn them off.” Hyunjin was being surprisingly serious about this whole thing. When he let it out, he was actually quite smart. “So if we know they were turned off, that means they knew that we had them.”

“Every restaurant worth their talent has cameras now. That’s not really an unknown fact.” Changbin chimed in. “These people knew exactly how to turn them off. We had nothing. They just… cut out.” 

“Then wouldn’t they have to have known their way in and around to find the switch?” Jeongin piped up. 

“Yes. They would have.” Minho responded. “And no one has ever told anyone anything about our camera system?” 

“It’s not really something that comes up with the two other friends I have other than you guys.” Han said sarcastically. “Not really a hot topic with the young crowd.” Minho rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. 

“I just don’t understand…” He rambled on to those who were listening while others picked at whatever pastry was in front of them. I let my mind wander to where Chris might have ran off to. 

It was like trying to put together a puzzle without the edges: it was hard to pick a place to start. What had he rushed off to do? Was there something he needed to do right then and there?  It didn’t have to do with me, did it? I wasn’t sure. I thought about sending him a quick text just to check in, but from how he looked before he ran off, he needed space and time. And I’d give him what he needed, just like he did for me. 

“So what do we do while everything gets back in order? Twiddle our thumbs?” It was the first time Seungmin had spoken to us directly since we got to Felix’s place. 

“No. You rebuild.” Felix piped up. “You get in there and clean it up and you move on. You don’t let it get to you, no matter where it came from. You do the work and you take the time that you need to move forward. All of you.” He looked us all in the eyes, going from one to the next, holding it there so we would know he meant every word he said. Felix was good at that, saying the words people needed to hear and being sincere with all of it. It was one of his many superpowers. 

The only way through this ordeal was through. There were no ifs, ands, or buts, about it. We would find the people who did this and hold them responsible. We’d pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and move along just like we always had. 

“Think of it this way: now you can repaint it!” Felix, ever the bright-sided one, continued to point out all the things Minho could change now that it had been ‘taken care of for him’ until Minho stopped looking so downtrodden. The others were softly smiling at Felix with a look of wonder at how someone could be so positive and pick up the ones around him without fail.

“So.” I sighed. “Onwards, then.”

*

“But I don’t want this one, Chan. I want chocolate.”

“I know, Danny, but that one’s too high. I can’t reach it.” “What do you mean? You can do anything, Channie!”

*

It was late by the time I got back home, well past midnight. My dark apartment had long been quiet since I didn’t even have a chance to get home when he sent us. I’d gone looking for Chris only to come up empty handed. My bags were so heavy I left them in the entryway and stumbled onto my couch to lay down. I fell straight into the pillow and had one last thought before I fell asleep.

Me: Wherever you ran off to, I hope you’re okay. Come back when you’re ready. I hope that’s soon.

*

The alleyways He chose always stank of mildew. The rain tonight didn’t help. Everything was slick with water and nothing would chase away the stench of wet pavement, no matter how hard the car exhaust tried. Of course He chose tonight of all nights, when Danny wouldn’t sleep and begged to come with him wherever he was going. He had to beg him to stay in bed with a promise of pancakes for breakfast tomorrow, loaded with everything he could think of, if he would just stay in bed. 

These were the thoughts that plagued him as He showed himself for the first time that night. His usual fur coat had been switched for a slick black trenchcoat to block out the rain, but the rest of His attire was the same. His dark denim hadn’t started sticking to his legs yet, but it was sure to start now that He was out from the safety of His chauffeur-driven car. 

*

The pounding at my door startled me from my slumber with a jolt. I rubbed my eyes, my vision still fuzzy, and blinked until everything cleared. I shook my head as I stood up to stare through my peephole at a frazzled-looking Chris, his face flushed and pale and panting so loud I could hear it through the door, which I unlocked. His attention snapped to me and we locked eyes for a moment. His eyes were wild, more so than I’d ever seen before. 

“Chris?” I said lowly, voice groggy. “What time is it?” The more I looked at him, the more panicked I became. “Chris, what’s wrong?” His chest was rising and falling more rapidly now, like he couldn’t control it.

“I fucked up. I fucked up big time.” I felt my eyes grow wider.

“You better come inside.” I gestured him in.

He brushed past me and went straight for the couch, sitting on what I was just sleeping on. He bounced a little, letting himself drop onto it like I had. His eyes now were staring blankly at the TV on the wall, like he was merely looking into it. I waited until his breathing had slowed back to a semi-normal pace before offering him some water which he took. He held onto it like it was the only thing tying him to reality, like everything would shatter if he let go of that glass. I watched him grip it, his stare still blank. I let him sit there for however long he needed. 

After what felt like ages, and a few jerks awake from me, he finally spoke.

“It was them.”

“What was them? Who is them?”

“The guys who came after my dad and then me. They trashed the place. It was me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“They gave me a warning and I ignored it. I thought they were empty threats. I should’ve known better.”

“You thought a drug lord you used to work with would make empty threats?”

“I know. It was a stupid thought and I should have known better.”

“You have to tell Minho.” He sighed. 

“I know. But how? He’s the only one in this world who was willing to help me when things went to shit. How do I tell him that I betrayed him like this?”

“But how did you betray him? It’s not your fault they broke in, they made that choice themselves.”

“But I brought them here to do that. I led them straight here. They robbed him and broke everything because of me. Because I told them to leave me alone. And this is what happens when you fuck with the wrong people.” He grabbed a pillow and held it to his face and screamed. And screamed and screamed. I only placed a hand on his back for comfort, unsure of what to say. He screamed until his voice went hoarse and they dissolved into quiet tears. “It can’t happen again. Not again. Not again.”

I wasn’t sure what to do, if there was anything I could do that would console him enough to calm him down. So I got up, filled my kettle, and let him heave all of these emotions onto me, ready to catch them and hold them with him. He asked why I was willing to, he couldn’t understand why anyone would want to carry a burden that wasn’t theirs. 

“Because…that’s what keeps us alive. Sharing our burdens so they’re not…as heavy. It doesn't make the pain stop, it doesn’t make everything better again, but it lightens the load you have to carry everyday. That load only gets heavier and heavier with each passing day, but your friends and loved ones are there to take some of it off and help you to carry it. It might not make the most sense right now, but I promise it will. But you have to help us to help yourself. You have to decide who you trust enough to help you carry the weight. You trusted me enough to tell me about Daniel. And I’m grateful you did. But it’s up to you who to give that trust to.”

“The only people I’ve trusted I had to abandon.”

“Well, there’s only one way to break that curse… If you let us. All in your own time. Don’t push it until you’re ready.”

“What if I’m never ready?”

“Then I’m okay with being the one to help you lift.”

*

When I woke up, we were bundled together on my couch, our empty mugs forgotten on the coffee table. I blinked, my arms wrapped around Chris’s sleeping form moving up and down steadily in time with his chest. I was laying on him and I craned my neck up, wanting to watch him sleep just a little longer. 

He looked restless. His eyebrows were scrunched even more than they were when he first came to my door last night, like he was having a nightmare. And with all the thoughts that our conversation last night brought up, I’m sure he was reliving it all in his mind’s eye. I wasn’t sure if I should wake him or not, but he saved me from deciding when I heard him grunt and scrunch his eyes until they opened. He looked around until he remembered where he was then glanced down at me, his tired lips curving upwards. 

“Morning.” I whispered.

“Morning.” He whispered back. 

“How are you feeling? Any different?”

“Not really. But waking up next to you is nice. I could get used to that.”

“You don’t have to say that just because you’re in my apartment, you know. You can tell me if my morning breath is that bad.” He was avoiding the subject and I was going to let him. He’d been through enough for one night.

“It wasn’t that bad last night and it isn’t now either.” A soft chuckle from him and a small weight was lifted from my chest. It was nice to hear him laugh after last night.

“Oh please.” I laughed and threw off the blanket. “I’m going to shower and brush my teeth.” He started rising from the couch too and I spun to throw him a raised brow. “And where are you going?”

He looked like a kid caught trying to run away, but with his body turned toward the direction I was heading, he wasn’t doing that exactly. Instead he froze, looked at me, and slowly sat back down. I rolled my eyes, the smile never leaving my face.

“You can come pick out a toothbrush and then brush your teeth in the kitchen sink.” 

I'll give him whatever distraction he needs to get through this, I told myself. I’ll give him what he needs and then when he’s ready, he’ll come to me.

Won’t he?

From the hallway I hear

“But why can’t I brush my teeth in there?” 

Yeah. He will.

*

“Do you have what I asked for, kid?”

“This has to stop now. This is the last deal I’m doing for you. I’m done.”

He never liked mincing words. What He wanted from His dealers was a quick cut to the chase. He valued directness. He tried doing that, but this was pushing it. He had to keep it quick to get back home. Make his point, sever ties, and get home. That was what he kept repeating to himself as he spoke.

“You think you can get away that easy? You should know better than that. No one escapes The Cartelic. This shit is for life.”

“And what if I made a deal with you?”

*

That first day of repairs was.

“This place is a wreck.”

“Well spotted, Binnie.”

“Hey! I was just saying that this is going to take a while to do, even with the guys your dad hired.” Binnie glanced over at Minho apologetically, looking somehow adorable in his backwards hat and tank top. Minho just looked defeated the whole drive over. Myself, Minho, and Chris all packed into the car this morning to head to our hardware store to grab whatever we ourselves could do until the repairmen showed up, which included picking up the trash and broken things on the floor as well as sweeping up the broken glass everywhere. So we picked up about a billion boxes of trash bags and got to work, the other guys slowly appearing as the day went on. 

Changbin was the last to arrive with Jeongin, walking over the remaining glass to our spot and clutching his bag on his shoulder. 

“We came just in time to do the dirty work.” Changbin said with the fakest smile I had ever seen on anyone, including Hyunjin. Minho threw them both a pair of gloves. 

“So get to dirty working.”

Repairs were slow. So slow. But at least they were happening. 

Chris was over in the corner helping Hyunjin paint in the most adorable set of paint clothes I’d ever seen. Minho told Hyunjin he could paint something on the wall if he was on time for the next month. I didn’t know someone could look cute in clothes with tears and holes in them but there he was in basketball shorts and a white t-shirt. Every now and then, he would move in a way that would allow me to catch a peak of his skin. It made me feel like I was back in the Victorian age when the sight of a woman’s ankles sent men into a tizzy. What is wrong with me… 

I shook my head and turned back to the wall I was putting plaster on with Felix. He didn’t have to help, but that’s just who he was. He wouldn’t miss a chance to help a friend when it really counted. His bright blue hair was tied back in a half up, half down style keeping most of the loose strands out of his face. The few that fell out were perfectly placed as if he pulled them out himself. Life was so unfair sometimes…

Hyunjin and Chris were talking about something I couldn’t quite hear, then Hyunjin’s voice came in clear as day to my ears.

“You know, me and Han weren’t always the glowing twins we are now. We fought in the beginning.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah, we used to be at each other’s throats. He had a lot of pent-up anger when I first met him. But we actually met before we both started working here. We used to dance together in a group before we got this job. He would tell me all these things I needed to work on while he would be messing up just the same as me.”

“Han had pent-up anger?”

“Oh yeah. He would pick fights with almost everyone until he got his shit figured out. It took some serious sit-downs to talk it out. I had to bribe him to come with me.”

“So bribery does work on him.”

“Ha. Yeah, especially when he knows deep down he needs to chill out. We met up at a cafe nearby, Felix’s place actually. We talked about nothing for about five minutes, and then I just laid it all out. I told him that something had to give and it wasn’t going to be me. Then I tried to level with him, said we didn’t have to be best friends but if we were going to work together, then it had to, at least, be cordial. Minho was there, saw our…potential, I guess, and had us come in for interviews. Now here we are.” 

It was true, I remembered Minho telling me the story. He appreciated how they were talking it out outside of the group by themselves. He had just fired his whole restaurant because of the environment they had created amongst themselves and he was over it. He wanted to start from scratch. And he did. And did it well. He already had me on board, he just needed everyone else. 

“Han isn’t like that now. Now he knows that we’re all here for him. We’ve learned how to handle issues with him, if there are any. But there are rarely issues with us all now. We all came to just trust that if one of us has a problem, we’ll come to them with it.”

Chris thought about this a moment as he continued painting. I wondered what he was thinking about. 

*

After a full day of working on repairs with the guys Minho’s father called for the stuff we couldn’t do, Minho ordered food for everyone who worked. That was the real reason Changbin and Seungmin came, I later found out. 

We were all spread out on the floor, now swept and mopped so we could walk around freely. Blankets were spread out for comfort, or so I was told. We were ‘testing out the new cushions’ for the new booths, as Hyunjin had pointed out when he refused to sit on the bare floor. Everyone else was scattered around with plates of various dishes. 

I was watching Chris closer than I would ever admit to out loud. I was just worried about what all he was carrying with him in that head of his while he talked and listened. He was watchful and careful with his expression, not letting anything show about the worries he had come to me with. This troubled me the most. Why is he showing me and not them? I considered this. Was it because he felt safer with me? Did they give him some reason not to be trusted? What had happened between last week at my place and now? What was he thinking about?

“And that’s when I yelled at him that since we fight and yell so much, we might as well be a married couple! The blank stare I got back was so funny, ugh. I wish you all could have seen it.” Seungmin was wistfully staring at Minho now finished recanting the early days when they started planning the new menu together. Minho just shook his head, fighting the smile so as to keep his ‘bored’ exterior but we all knew the truth. He wouldn’t be Minho without Seungmin and he knew that. 

“You were really getting on my nerves and it just shocked me that you would say something like that! I wasn’t expecting it. You kept suggesting we make a pairing menu for the beers and wines. I kept telling you you were crazy and that this is not that kind of place.” He finally cracked a smile to show off those bunny teeth I always made fun of. 

“Well excuse me for trying to bring some class to this place.” Seungmin matched his grin. 

Ever since we got back from our trip, I took every moment I could to really, really look at Minho. How he carried himself, how he interacted with others that he knew and those he did not. To anyone who had just met him, he could seem standoffish, cold even. But when it really came down to it, I think he has the biggest heart of us all. How he met Chris was the truest testament to that; helping a stranger when they needed an out of a bad situation. That was who Minho really was at his base. I hoped he found someone who could truly be his match some day.

“It’s not as bad as that one guy who came in to work for Felix. He was terrible!” Jeongin countered whatever they were talking about while I wondered. 

“Oh no, HE was the worst.” Felix agreed. “He was always late, he was rude to customers, and never restocked before he left. I left him in charge of inventory for the back room one time and I was left without takeout boxes for two weeks! That’s more than half my business!” They all shook their heads, remembering the tales of when Felix would come in early because he had to close because of him. He was a real mess. 

“That shouldn’t happen now, though.” Felix said to his now-empty plate. “I hired one girl who took the interview very seriously. Said she was trying to go to culinary school here and would ‘love the opportunity to get hands-on experience in baked goods’ or something. Beth is her name. You’ll start seeing her around the shop soon since she starts Monday.” 

“That soon? Why didn’t you tell us you were hiring help?” Changbin asked with genuine curiosity. 

“I don’t need to run every business decision by you, do I?” Felix retorted with a smile. “Besides, she sounds like she’ll really be a big help with the actual baking stuff. She’s eager to learn everything. It’ll be a nice change to have someone actually wanting to be there.” 

“It sounds like you’ll have your hands full training someone new. I’m happy for you, Lix. Really. She sounds like she’ll really be a big help.” I hoped my sincerity shone through my words, By the look Felix gave back to me, it did. 

“You guys should come meet her! Or should I bring her here?”

“”Give her a few days to get used to everything. Then let her in on the circus.” Chris piped up. “You guys can be a lot when you’re first meeting someone. Take it from the one who was last to join.” 

“Oh come on, we’re not that bad.” I smirked at him, causing everyone to laugh. Chris shook his head as he laughed and while everyone was occupied with throwing away their trash, he threw me a wink.

*

“Do you want to come over? I made steak last night, it’s pretty good.”

Chris nodded, lowering his head to watch the pavement as we walked to my car. The otherwise abandoned parking lot was only lit by the one streetlamp adjacent, casting a dull glow on the summer night. The pavement must have been more interesting than whatever was going on around him because Chris stared at it the whole time, then rested his head on my headrest and watched the world go by as we drove back to my place. Something had shifted in him since we had left. When we pulled into my place, he made no move to get out. Only unbuckled his seatbelt and stared at his lap. I sat there and let him, not wanting to push him any more than he must have already felt. I knew if I felt exhausted, he had to as well.

We let the sounds of nightfall surround us while we sat. I wasn't sure how long we sat there until he broke the silence. 

“I want to tell them.”

“Tell them what?”

“What I did.” 

“And what did you do?” He looked at me, a flat expression gracing his eyes. Like I should know what he’s talking about. “Ah.” I let that sink in, weighing the words against my inner judgment, debating on giving advice or not. “What brought you to this conclusion?”

“These past few weeks…Mixed with the past couple months with all of them, I think I can trust them. I don’t want to tell them, but I feel like I need to. They deserve to know.”

“Why do they need to know? You don’t even know if it was them, Chris-”

“But I do know. I just know. Who else could it have been?”

“Anyone. You’re not the only one with enemies. Maybe the only with with a drug lord on that list but…” It was a poke to try to get him to laugh. He didn't. “What happened? What made you change your mind?”

He didn’t answer. He chose that moment to unlock his door and get out of the car. I had no choice but to follow him up the yard and up the steps. In the stairwell upwards, he whispered quietly so it wouldn’t bounce off the walls.

“I don’t know. I just…trust them. Like I trust you.” He stood to the side to let me unlock the door, our arms brushing while I dug for my keys. Even with the heavy subject matter we were discussing and implying between the lines, that jolt of electricity still ran down my spine. I both hated and loved that our chemistry could withstand it all. 

“I’m honored to have gained your trust so quickly. Are you sure you want to tell them?” As his friend, I wanted him to be sure he was confident in his decision. I knew it would kill him if he came to regret it later on, but I wasn’t sure he would. I trusted those boys with my life and then some, and if Chris had come to the same conclusion on his own, that meant even more. 

“I do. I will soon.” He came in after me and settled on the couch, just like he had the first night he came to me after the incident. But his features were much more…peaceful this time. He looked rested, like the weight had lifted when he had decided he would tell them. Instead of simply hovering over the fence between fainting from stress and the verge of tears, he seemed relaxed. Likely because of his decision for peace over secrets, but I chose to believe it was because he felt better here, in my house. 

“Good. Now help me with the steaks, yeah?”

*

“Your deal is no good here. Stupid to think that a child would have something I would want.”

“But what if I do?”

“And what could you possibly want in return, kid?”

“I want my father back.”

The bigger man laughed, his stomach jiggling as he did. “I forgot just how young you are. Are you still waiting for your father to come home? Pathetic.”

His hands shook as he clenched them, trying to keep his grip on his emotions. He knew that if He caught a whiff of any, he would be finished. So he reigned in his anger, centering himself to retort back.

“I expect nothing. Name your price and it’s done.”

“Your father was worth nothing, just like you. I want for nothing, unlike you. Your father will remain where we put him; six feet under.”

*

We laid in my bed, side by side, Chris’s fingers playing with mine and me, just watching while the light from the TV bounced around the room. Each time he glanced over to my face, I switched from watching his fingers back to the TV, fighting the grin dying to take over. I had to bite the inside of my cheek in order to do so, and he pretended not to notice when he went back to it. He would run the pads of his thumbs over my nails then down the length of my fingers, diving between them and then back up to the next. And he would start back over in the opposite direction, just resting and letting his mind wander wherever it was going. 

I was barely paying attention to the game show he had put on while I was in the bathroom, distracted by the mindless but intentional sensory placater that was happening. It was as much for me as it was for him, not thinking about the days ahead or behind. Living for the now, as we had been advised to do. Remembering the past would only bring to the surface all of the pain that rested there. He could leave it there if he wanted or choose to lighten the load, give some to me until he was ready to share it with someone else. Whatever he was ready for, whenever. 

He brought my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “Tell me what you thought when you first met me. What was going through your mind when you saw me walk in through those glass doors?” I finally moved my head to look at him straight on and saw curiosity staring back at me with a glimmer of something else simmering just below.

“What brings this on? Anything specific you want to hear?” He shook his head. 

“No. I just want to hear your honest thoughts. Have to make sure I make a good impression.” I snorted.

“Yeah, okay.” I said sarcastically and paused to think back. “Obviously, you were shrouded in mystery. The way Minho brought you in was super weird. I don't know why he had to bring us all in first to ‘make sure we were on the same page’ before he brought you out to the front.”

“He was giving me a tour of the back rooms when you all arrived. He went out to see what all the ruckus was and he came back and said it was just you guys. Said that we should all meet before dinner service that night.”

“Yeah, Minho likes his people to work well together. Which, I say we’re doing a fantastic job so far.” I winked at him. “I remember thinking that you were going to shake things up from what we had known. That you were either going to be the best thing that would happen to us or…” I didn’t want to say ‘the worst’. I wanted to save his worries at least a little, those that I could control. “And I thought you were cute in your little backwards baseball hat. You had these little hairs sticking out in the back and they kinda looked like a little duck’s tail.”

“A duck’s tail?”

“Yeah. The way it flips upwards, it's adorable.”

“Oh I’m adorable, am I?” 

“I didn’t say that.” I said quickly.

“Yes you did.” He said just as fast. 

“Oh stop it. Don’t let it go to your head. You were a right little shit straight afterwards.”

“It’s because you caught me off guard! I didn't know what to do so I resorted to default settings.” 

“What does that mean, I ‘caught you off guard’? What about me caught you off guard?” Disbelief coated my words, not thinking that anything about me could be catching anyone off guard.

“Everything. Everything about you.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “No, really! What, you don’t believe me?”

“I just don’t believe I’m that breathtaking.” I said the last word in a breathy, dramatic voice. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I don’t think I’m capable of that kind of power.” I watched the TV for the next few minutes, feeling how heavy he was staring at me. I refused to look his way, not knowing what I might find if I dared sneak a peek. The man on the TV was doing something with his leg to make the audience laugh, but I was only half listening. But the longer Chris was quiet, the more the anticipation built. And it finally broke when Chris lifted his fingers to my chin and turned me to look at him again. 

“I crumble to dust when you say my name. What makes you think you have no power?”

Everything in the room went quiet. There was only Chris. Chris and the way he was looking at me like I had done him a great kindness in knowing him. Chris and the smell of him enveloping me like a long awaited hug that my soul had been calling out for. He understood what I didn’t know I had been longing for. 

Our eyes locked and that was all he needed. 

The moments before our lips met were the longest and the shortest of my life. And when he came knocking on my door, he found it already open for him, his name carved like he owned it.

*

“Minho, why are we here at the butt crack of dawn? Some of us like to sleep at this hour and do not appreciate being called to appear at our job before the sun officially rises.” Hyunjin ran his hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes. Felix jumped through the small crowd of friends and threw his arms around Hyunjin’s neck.

“Felix, if you don’t get off me, I’m going to scream into your eardrums so loud that you will need to have surgery to repair BOTH of them.” 

“Hyunjin, you’re so dramatic.”

“Yeah, how could you yell at our baby Felix like that?” Han widened his eyes to round them, making them shine like big round saucers while he threw his arms around Felix’s dejected frame. Felix’s pout accentuated his lips, making the pucker more than usual and making it impossible to say anything negative about or to. Well, more so than usual. Felix crossed his arms. 

Minho appeared around the corner of the restaurant waving his arms in our direction. 

“Over this way!” He shouted and disappeared again behind the back, forcing the rest of us to follow him. Changbin led the way, grumbling about not being told beforehand about anything for the past week. We had all spent most of the time taking well deserved breaks, helping with repairs where we could and finding odd jobs to do in the meantime while Minho’s father arranged for everything to be back in working order.

When we found Minho by the back door, the corners of his mouth were twitching something horrible, which could only mean one of two things. Either we were in for it or…

“It’s finally done. The whole thing, we’re all finished. We are officially open starting tomorrow!” He let his grin break loose to be met with cheers from the rest of the group. Whoops and hollers from us all only deepened his sense of pride and he waved his arms downwards to calm the hollers of joy. “I wanted to be the first to take a look at it, but it didn’t feel right without you guys since it felt like we did all this together, you know? I know I wouldn’t be here without you guys and-”

“Minho, can we have this moment when we get inside? The anticipation is KILLING me!” Han loved to ruin Minho’s fun when he was being too serious. It kept Minho from falling into pieces sometimes, not that he would ever admit that to anyone. 

“Fine! Fine, I guess you’ll never know. Go in, you heathens! And don’t touch anything!” Han broke into a run and burst open the back door, Chris right behind him. Felix and I hung back to watch and take in the moment, fully take in the work and everything that had been put into the place, both recently and over the years. And when we walked through that back door into the newly furnished kitchen, our words left us.

The kitchen was brand new, silver chrome coating the counters and new island in the middle for faster service with touches of bronze and copper placements everywhere. . The normal ventilation was now blocked off to where it wasn’t totally visible from directly underneath. The pots and pans now hung from hooks everywhere you looked, all crisp and waiting to be used. The stovetops, which Seungmin was now marveling at, were crystal clean and calling to him, or so he said. The ovens, three in total, were spread just far enough to prevent overcrowding at one, but not so far that you had to go too far to go from one to the other. And all of the new utensils were spread everywhere, never having to go too far for what you needed. It was gorgeous, a dream really. You could tell it was plucked straight from Minho’s dreams. 

“Min, it’s gorgeous.” I whispered to him, but he wasn’t listening. No, he was staring in wonder at his completed masterpiece. He had picked the pieces of what he thought would look best, but the designer had filled in the rest. Minho was blinking rapidly with a blank expression like he did when he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. I couldn’t help the smile that appeared when I saw him like that. It happened so rarely. “I’ll leave you to it.” I whispered to him and made to leave, but he grabbed my arm. 

“Stay. Just for a second.” He said as he continued to look around. He stood rooted to the spot, just watching everything and everyone’s reactions to it all. “Look. Look what we’ve done.”

“What you’ve done.” I corrected him. “This was all you, Minho. So take your time, take it all in. You deserve it.” I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and waited for him to squeeze back. But he didn’t. Instead he let go abruptly to show Seugmin the pantry for dry goods. I took that as my ‘ok’ to leave them. 

They had kept the swinging doors leading to the dining room like they were, just buying newer ones and new hinges. Why fix what wasn’t broken? Only now, they sported red velvet cushioning type of dressing, decorated with gold round accents while keeping the round windows for peeping. And what awaited me outside those doors took my breath away for the second time that morning. 

The dining room looked the same, and yet different at the same time. The window-walls had been replaced with the same, but stronger plexiglass of a sort, or so I overheard from Changbin with his loud voice. The booths were matching the red velvet doors along with their gold accents, giving them the new and fancier feel. The floor had been redone in a black sort of non-slip coating and the new bar had been elongated. They had replaced the mirror backing of the liquor shelves (at my request, purely for selfish and self-serving reasons) and they were back to their fully-stocked state and begging to be used. The shelf they stood on top of was fully ready for a bunch of any kind, flutes of all shapes and sizes next to every type of beer glass I could think of. I went around to look at what had been chosen just to find more surprises waiting for me behind the bar. 

I never thought I would be the type of girl that would be excited by cups, but these were too pretty to ignore. The copper sinks were deeper than the last ones, and the shakers were the same copper material as the sinks. I couldn’t wait to add my glittery one to the mix.

Chris was across the room looking at the new booths when I called him over to look at what they had replaced our stuff with. He ran over, careful of Changbin and Hyunjin looking at the new bouncer/ host stand. When he arrived at my spot, his mouth fell open, exploring all of the new nooks and crannies we had all to ourselves. He even stuck his head under the bar.

“What are you doing? Are you looking for money the restoration crew might have left?” I shoved his shoulder playfully. 

No, stupid. I’m looking for a place to write our names.” I cocked my head at the idea, considering what could go wrong if we did. Considering I’d be here forever, what was the worst that could happen?

“Let me go find a marker.”

“Got one right here.” Chris whipped out a Sharpie from his jean pocket and crouched down low. If anyone looked over here, they would only see me. 

“Do you just carry around markers with you everywhere?” I laughed as I crouched with him, taking the marker from him.

“Nah,” he responded. “Minho told me we were coming here. I had this idea last night.” I held the marker above the short wall, unwilling to write my actual initials. Hm. 

“Here, why don’t we write ‘S’ for Sparkles and ‘P’ for Puck?”

“Wow, you really did think about this.” I had to laugh again as I wrote the two letters. “People might know what ‘S’ is but will they know what ‘P’ is?”

“Doesn’t matter. At least you do. That way, when you look at it, you’ll know it’s me.” 

“I like that.” After finishing the job, I chanced the look back to him, where I caught a glimpse of what looked like sadness at the marked wall. He let out a deep sigh, which I ignored. I wanted him to have the moment to himself. 

A second later, Han barreled into the waist-level bar, marveling at the new shelves. “Oh!” He exclaimed when he spotted us. “What’re you guys doing down there?”

“Nothing!” I responded and sprouted upwards. 

“Oh okay. Have you guys seen the new bathrooms? The sinks are unbelievable!” And then he was off again.

“He has too much energy for how early it is.”

“And he’s the hardest to wake up. Can you believe that?” We shook our heads together and started to follow Han until Seungmin came in through the doors.

“Who wants to break in the new kitcheeeeennnnnn?!”

*

The answer was everyone. Everyone wanted to break in the new kitchen. And in various ways.

It took a lot of convincing from Han for Minho to let him try and use the new fryers while Hyunjin was all about the new stovetops. Seungmin was constantly peering over his shoulder because he ‘couldn’t trust him with anything new’, which Hyunjin noticed and purposely tried burning multiple pans. 

“Are you trying to fuck us before we even officially open?”

“Well, Seungmin, I didn’t know how to tell you but-” He started puckering his lips and following the younger around the kitchen. “Seungmin, come back!”

“No! No!” Seugmin’s screams could be heard from every corner of the building, yet no one thought twice about it nor went over to help, leaving him to fend for himself. 

Minho had his own section of the new flat top and was chopping away at something and adding bits and pieces of everything he could find that he thought would be good. And it wasn’t long before there was a buffet spread of freshly made food on the new bar next to Chris and I making breakfast drinks. Next thing we all knew, plates were scraped clean again and the new mimosa glasses were emptied. All nine of us sat around, testing out the new comfortability of the new booths but really, we were just sitting around, some of us paired off and others just loudly talking about random nonsense. Chris and I sat together again, his arm around me while our conversations were going in opposite directions. When he placed his arm around me at first, none of the other guys reacted really. I thought none of them had noticed until Hyunjin gave me a look in response, ‘girl we already knew’.

“It took a lot for me to trust them, actually. I’m not really a person who trusts easily so it took a while for me to open up with them. Changbin was the first one who took it upon himself to make sure I felt comfortable enough to talk about myself and my life.”

“What did he do that made you trust him? What were the signs you were looking for?”

“I’m not really sure exactly. But the more time I spent with them, the more I found myself telling them. Like it was spilling out of me. Like it had been waiting to come out. I guess…” Innie paused, searching for answers on the new wooden tables. “I guess the more I saw that he cared about what I had to say, the more inclined I was to tell him. And I think I was testing him at first to see what his reactions would be. When he didn’t run or laugh at how ridiculous it was, I think that was when it started happening.”

Chris rumpled his hair, causing Jeongin to shrink into himself and try to get away from any signs of affection, as he usually did. “Sparkles was right, you are too smart for your age.”

Jeongin’s signature laugh bounced off the freshly painted walls. 

Minho stood from his bar stool and quieted everyone with his hands. 

“Now that we’ve all been stuffed beyond our means, I have the great pleasure of telling you all that we are back in business tomorrow night so I hope you don’t have any plans.”

“But Jeongin was supposed to take me shopping!” Felix pouted back into his chair, sulking while Jeongin’s breathy laugh filled our eardrums. Minho just shrugged.

“Sorry not sorry. Anyways, front of house, come back at around six to check out the new menu items. Back of house, including Han and Hyunjin, you have to stay. We have to teach you. Trust me, we’re not looking forward to it either.”

“Hey now, I need one of the twins with me.” 

“Fine, pick one.” Minho moaned in mild frustration.

“I’m going!” Han was faster, and sped-walked quickly to my side before Minho could object. Minho rolled his eyes, but led the way to the kitchen with the others. 

Grumbles filled the air while those of us who were dismissed filed out. Chris held onto my hand until he was forced to let go by Minho.

“Bro, let’s go! You got dishes to do. You guys can make out later.” To which all of the boys groaned, Han the loudest. 

“Eeewwww, gross!”

“I’ll see you later then.” Chris whispered in my ear then kissed my cheek, leaving a literal spark where his lips had been. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as I headed to the bar. 

“The rest of you, follow me. I have some new cocktail recipes I wanna try.” I practically skipped over the rest of the way, Changbin, Jeongin, Han, and Felix in tow. 

When we arrived at the bar, I was immediately bombarded with questions. 

“How long have you guys been together?”

“When did that happen?”

“Did you guys know about this? Felix was the only one who didn’t have questions. Instead he just watched the others and held in that deep laughter of his. While they spewed their questions, I gathered the ingredients I needed and started pouring them into the new shakers. They continued while I poured ice and started shaking, yelling even louder so they could hear each other over the rattling ice. They didn’t stop until I poured my creation into the glass I had selected. I opened my mouth to indicate that I was ready to talk, and they quieted down their hushed voices. 

“I call this one ‘I’m Not Answering Your Questions So Don’t Even Ask’.” They went quiet and looked for the straws. 

“It was just a question, geez.”

“Yeah, we just wanted to know what was going on.” They sipped all at once, making room for each other so they looked like one of those pictures from the 50s, all drinking a milkshake together. It was adorable.

“I like this one! What is it?” As I explained it to him and made more for them to try, I couldn’t help but think about what was going on in the kitchen. The thought that Chris wanted to tell the crew about his past hadn’t left me, but I didn’t know much more than that. Would he do it today, before our first dinner service in the new place? Or would he wait until after, letting everyone focus on the next 24 hours for themselves? 

Felix’s voice broke me of my thoughts. “So what do you think?”

“Huh? I’m sorry, Lix, I have no idea what you just said.”

“Yeah I thought so.” He mocked, then continued. “I asked you what you thought about me inviting Beth to try the new stuff? You know, get another opinion in here.”

“Yeah, that’s okay. I’m always open to new opinions.”

Half an hour later she strolled in, hair up in a long ponytail with some casual jeans and a black t-shirt clinging to the curves of her upper half in all the right places. She was definitely pretty, and she walked with her head high, shoulders back and confident for someone who was walking into a room full of people she didn’t know. When she approached, she didn’t say much beyond the simple introduction and polite hellos, but the confident air didn’t go away. It reminded me of someone…

Minho started to carry plates to the bar from the kitchen, each with their own flair that fit the dishes laden with different sauces of all colors, vegetables and various proteins. He didn’t even notice that we had an extra person among us, let alone another woman. It was only when he was counting heads to see how many forks we needed to test the new plates, that I saw him freeze and start the blinking. I watched the confusion take over until he found the culprit of the extra number and leaned over the bar towards me and waved me over. 

“Who’s the new girl?” 

“Felix’s new girl down at the bakery. Beth.” Minho nodded, this whole exchange never taking his eyes off of her. It seemed like he couldn’t, and I wasn’t sure he was really trying. She was paying no attention to him, looking over all of the plates he had brought over. 

“Oh.” He mumbled, and continued watching her look over his plates. 

“Minho?” I asked, staring at him. “Minho?” I asked a little louder. It was like he was in a trance, watching her and the way she wafted the smells coming from the food, picking apart what she thought was giving each smell and mentioning it to Felix, who nodded and listened. I didn’t want to tear him from whatever moment he was having, but Hyunjin had now come with more plates. He spotted Minho standing frozen in place like a statue and after putting his own plates down next to the ones that were already there, he snapped his fingers right in Minho’s face, waking him. 

“Hey! We still got plates back there. Let’s gooooo.” He singsoned and then traipsed back through the revolving doors without checking if Minho was behind him. Minho blinked furiously again and looked around like he forgot where he was. His eyes finally landed on my smug face, imitating when Spongebob caught Squidward eating a Krabby Patty after he swore he didn’t like them.. 

“Shut up.” He turned on his heel and ran back to the kitchen and I didn’t miss the middle finger he threw me while I cackled. “Shut up!”

“What was that about?” The woman herself had approached me to ask the question, and since she hadn’t said much to anyone other than Felix, I was surprised.

“Oh, uhm, nothing. He’s just a little odd, that’s all.”

“Was it just me or was he staring at me?”

“Like I said, he means well. That’s Minho, this is kinda his place. He’s the head chef back there.”

“Head chef?” Her interest seemed piqued at the mention of his position. “Hm.” was all she said before she took Felix’s arm and walked away. She pulled him into a corner and started whispering to him. Felix couldn’t help but laugh and whenever he laughed, she slapped him on the arm. It seemed like old friends having a discussion about something important, and Felix was mocking her for it. It was nice to see Felix with another friend.

The rest of the itchen boys brought out the rest of the plates at the same time while those of us at the bar finished making the new cocktail menu. It was a tasting menu for the ages. Food was as far as the eye could see and the glasses sat behind them, everything ready to be tasted. Everyone gathered around the bar for the second time that day, this time for business rather than family time. 

“It was nice not to have to pay for food today.” Hyujin said as he poised his fork over the glazed pork dish in front of him. “I don’t like cooking by myself anyways.” He brought his fork to his mouth and scrunched his face together, like he was in pain.

“Hyunjin, why do you always look like you’re in pain when you eat?ou scrunch your face like this.” I did my best impersonation of the face he just made, hoping it was as accurate as it felt. 

“I do not do that!”

“You do. It’s okay, it’s cute.” Changbin said as he came up behind him with his fork poised to eat. Hyunjin’s indignation reached all the way down the bar, hitting everyone but Minho, who was reading something on his phone. He was a lonely island in the sea of laughter around him, out of place in the rambunctious fun happening. 

“Yah!” He called out, silencing the room around him. His volume was louder than he needed, signaling to the group that the seriousness of what he had to say was trumping whatever was happening. He held up his phone, reading from it. “‘The cops pulled the cameras from that day around the area and found the car as it was leaving. They identified it as belonging to that dishwasher that ran out on you a few months ago. They caught him and he confessed to everything. I’m making sure they press every charge they can AND paying back every penny we spent on repairs.’” There was a collective sigh of relief from the small crowd, but Chris just looked even more puzzled. He found my gaze and left his place beside Changbin to find me.

“Well, that’s a relief. Now you don’t have to tell them what you suspected about those guys. It’s not true.” He didn’t look any more pleased from that fact.

“Yeah, but…” He looked around again. “Something still doesn’t feel right.” 

“Why? What do you mean?” Puzzled, he tucked his bottom lip into his teeth.

“I don’t know… But I can’t shake the feeling.” 

“Well, we’ll just keep an eye on it, okay? The cops have him and until we have some hard evidence to believe that he’s not the guy who did this, we have to take them at their word for it. It’s not like we can do anything about it anyways.” 

“Maybe I just don’t want to believe it’s that easy.”

“Maybe you’re not used to the bad guys getting caught.” I replied without thinking. Scared, I turned to face him, an apology on my lips and ready to be spilled, but he wasn’t offended. No, he was nodding along, as if to say ‘fair point’.

“So now what do we do?” Jeongin asked innocently. 

“Now,” Minho replied. “We kill tomorrow’s dinner service.”

*

And kill it we did.

Minho’s father had a banner put up over the front door stating our ‘Grand Reopening’ and the people were lining up at the door, ready for us. Floods of compliments on the new decor from the regulars and the new customers excitedly announcing that it was their first time there. The new upscale makeover had drawn in the crowd Minho had always wanted and his reputation for high standards had been spread across town. It followed him when he went out that day to Felix’s cafe. 

“He said he needed help today so I just stopped by for a minute.”

Felix: Bullshit. I never asked him for help. He didn’t leave Beth’s side the whole 10 minutes he was here before I kicked him out. 

The new dishes had gone over so well that Minho decided to keep them all instead of just keeping them for the reopening. His plan was to see what sold well and boot the rest but everything sold so well that he had to keep it all. He didn’t make back all of the money he had been estimated to lose since closing the doors, but he predicted that he was well on his way. 

Chris told them all the story of his past when the night was over, saying he had been scared to tell them because he was convinced he was right. 

“The goons I used to work with are scary as shit. I didn’t want to put you guys in any more danger than you already were just by being near me. So it was better that you didn’t know.”

“But you could’ve told us, Chris. You didn’t have to be scared, we would’ve understood.” Changbin comforted him from the furthest seat. “We still wouldn’t have blamed you because it was never your fault. You did what you could.”

Felix just got up and hugged Chris, who accepted it right away. With Felix, there was no other way other than to accept it straight away. “I’m sorry for your loss, Chris. That guilt must still be weighing on you.”

“It still does.” I reached for his hand which he took gratefully. Han was quiet for what felt like the first time in his life, and Minho watched the others around him, having already known the story. 

“Thank you for telling us.” Seungmin said quietly, unsure of what to do next. He wasn’t one for physical comfort, but that job was already occupied by Felix. So he made sure that Chris knew that whatever he might need, Seungmin was there. 

“It’s weird. Sometimes you guys remind me of him. Little things you guys do are things that he used to do. I missed having little brothers.” 

And then was when Han broke out into a very dramatic wail. “CHRIIIISSSSSSS.” And he sprung up straight into Chris’ arms to cry on his shoulder. And the rest of the group rallied around them, dragging me along with them into the only group hug I had seen Minho not hate. 

I was feeling good about it all until they all eventually left, barely cleaning on their way out. I drew the short straw yet again so guess who was stuck cleaning?

“I’ll stay and help, don’t worry.” What a man, my boyfriend.

That word was still unfamiliar on my tongue in this context. Unfamiliar, but a rush of adrenaline still ran through me with every use. And I was tryng my best to pretend that it was totally fine that he was standing so close to me, washing the glasses behind the bar. He bumped my hip with his to break the comfortable silence we had fallen into in the empty restaurant. 

“What’re you thinking about?”

“I’m just really proud of you. For opening up about Daniel, coming clean when you didn’t have to. You’ve opened up about something very traumatic for you and I’m just proud that you trusted all of us enough to tell us.” Chris got quiet, the glint of something like sadness taking over his eyes again. “What?”

“Nothing.” He cast the sad smile downwards on the beer glass he was washing. 

“Hey.” I bumped his hip back. He glanced back at me. “I really like you.”

He retracted that sadness and giggled, the one that I felt in my soul. 

“I really like you too.” He looked at me like he wanted to say more, but didn’t. He just kissed me instead. 

After a night’s rest and a coffee from Felix’s cafe in hand, I took out my keys to unlock the front door. I was looking forward to having a moment to myself in the new space after the success of last night, and taking a look around for my own sake was high on my to-do list. Just to sit by myself in a booth and admire the work we had done to get here with a coffee in my hand was just what I wanted. So I waltzed in through the glass doors and locked the door behind me. I went over to the freshly cleaned bar to put down my bag to find a folded piece of paper laying innocently on the counter.

My Sparkle,

I hope by the time you read this, I’ll be home again. I couldn’t tell you this to your face or else I would crumble again. Because I know for you, I would Stay if you asked me to. 

But I have to go home to fix the mess I made. I never told you because I was scared of what they would say, but I reached out to my sister. Her reaction was the final push I needed to at least try. I think I would miss you too much to be gone for good. But I know it’s going to take a while, so I can’t say when I’ll be back.

Being here with you these past few months has given me so much that I will never be able to repay you for, so I won’t try to. But I know I have a lot to thank you for. The only thing I can do is appreciate what you’ve given me and hope to give it back when I come back home to you. 

I don’t want to keep carrying this when I don’t have to and it’s not fair for you to help me  when you don’t deserve it. I’ve been running for too long. I don’t want to run anymore. My only regret is not telling you the one truth that I’ve known all this time. 

I love you

I love you

I love you

-Puck 

*

“You’re still going?”

“Yeah. I have to. Hannah will kill me if I don’t go.”

“You don’t have to. She’s going to break down my door once she reads that.”

“I know. And I’m sorry for what you’re going to have to deal with. But I can’t tell her myself. I won’t go if I do.”

Silence.

“You love her that much?”

“With everything I have.”

fin.

[praetorqueenreyna]

For our little ACOTAR gift exchange! This is a gift fic for @taymartiart, who is one of the BEST artists I've ever met! When asked what she wanted me to write, she said "accidental dick pic." This was so much fun, I love silly modern AUs! Enjoy!

Read here on AO3, or continue reading below:

Rhysand was about ready to silence his phone for the evening. It had been pinging non-stop as war raged on in the group chat. It had started with Mor saying she was craving a sparkling water, and Cassian replying to ask why she liked drinking raw sewage. That had been two hours ago, long past the point that Rhysand thought it was funny. He had also found Amren’s threat to murder Cassian by replacing his blood with sparkling water a little alarming.

There were a few minutes of peace where his phone made no noise at all. The reprieve was interrupted by a lone ding. Rhysand sighed, fully expecting the barrage to begin once again. When it didn’t, he risked actually checking his phone. The text was not from the group chat (ironically named “The Inner Circle” after Mor got way too into mafia movies, and Rhysand didn’t know how to change it), but was from Tamlin. It was a welcome distraction. Tamlin was a little weird, but Rhysand liked him. They had both started off as their fathers’ proteges, expected to take on the family business. Rhysand had fulfilled his end of the bargain, and Tamlin had run off to play guitar in coffee shops around town. An absolutely ridiculous career move, but it was endearing, in its own way.

It didn’t hurt that Tamlin was super hot and also into guys. Rhysand wasn’t too proud to admit that. He had tested the waters, putting on his most seductive voice to tease Tamlin, always just on the edge of outright flirtation. Every time, Tamlin turned a splotchy red and adorably ducked his head, which only made Rhysand want to do it again.

There was no text preview for the message; it only had an attached image. Rhysand opened it and blinked. He had worked a long day, and surely he was hallucinating. Staring at his phone didn’t change anything, and he finally accepted that Tamlin had sent him a picture of his dick.

It was nice, both the dick itself and the picture. Good size, good lighting, good angle. The photo captured his well-defined abs and a small tattoo on his hip bone. Rhysand zoomed in on the picture to see that the tattoo was a name. Alex, maybe? Or Alec? He had no idea why Tamlin had sent him this. The last text exchanged between them was from a week ago, when Rhysand had asked if he was playing this weekend. Nothing to indicate that the next step would be dick pics.

More curious than upset, Rhysand quickly typed out a message.

”Nice tattoo. Ex boyfriend?”

Tamlin began replying right away, in a series of rapid fire messages.

”What?”

“Oh.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh no no no no no.”

“I am SO sorry!!!! I didn’t mean to send that to you!!! I’d never do something like that!!!”

The overuse of exclamation points aside, Rhysand felt bad for him.

”It’s all good, I swear. Not the first dick I’ve seen.”

The reply was instantaneous.

”Oh good!! Not that you’ve seen dicks, that you’re not mad. I’m really sorry.

He probably could have ended it there, but Rhysand was intrigued.

”Who was it for?”

Tamlin didn’t respond for a bit, and Rhysand worried he had overstepped. It was an unexpected relief when another message came in.

”Some guy from Grindr. A friend signed me up for it because I haven’t gone on a date in a while. His name also begins with an R.”

The thought of Tamlin and his awkward demeanor cruising on Grindr was honestly hilarious. This friend had to have been fucking with him. Then again, he never would have expected Tamlin to send a dick pic to a random guy on a dating app, and here they were.

”Already at the dick pic stage? Seems like it's getting serious.”

This time, the reply was faster.

”Ha ha. I actually haven’t even met him yet. We were just talking and he asked for a picture. I’ve never done that before and thought what the hell. And then immediately fucked it up.”

Tamlin was way too sweet and sincere for the guys on Grindr. Thinking fast, Rhysand searched for and downloaded a photo of the Washington Monument. Before he could let Tamlin stew in his self pity for too long, he sent:

”We’ve all fucked up. I’ll send you a pic too, so we’re even.”

He attached the downloaded photo, only thinking to question the joke after he had sent it. It was familiar, bordering on flirtatious. The kind of thing he’d usually only send to Azriel or Cassian. His phone pinged.

”No wonder your ego is huge.”

Another text came in, this time a photo of a male mallard with the title “duck pic.” Rhysand actually laughed. He shot back something about the head of the duck being bright green, and maybe he should get that looked at. Tamlin coyly asked if he knew any good doctors. Holy shit, was Tamlin hitting on him? He knew that Rhysand was a doctor; more accurately a surgeon, working in his father’s clinic.

Rhysand found himself draped over the couch, texting with Tamlin for over an hour. The mortifying start to their conversation seemed to loosen something in him. He was funnier and more charming than Rhysand had ever seen. It felt special, to have Tamlin be so open with him. The thought of Tamlin being like this with “random guy from Grindr who’s name begins with R” filled Rhysand with a seething hot emotion that he eventually identified as jealousy.

When the conversation seemed like it was drifting to an end, Rhysand made his move. He selected one of his own pictures from a hidden folder on his phone (yes he had his own dick pics saved for occasions like this) and sent it. He waited a few seconds, then wrote:

”If you want to keep going, give me a call.”

The urge to throw his phone across the room overwhelmed him. He resorted to putting it face down on the coffee table and staring pointedly at the ceiling. The next minute was the longest of his life. But then, like a miracle, his phone began to ring.

*****************************

One month later

“You owe me a thank you drink.”

“What did you do now?” Tamlin asked, only giving half of his attention to the giant man sitting on the floor. His roommate was supposed to be helping him set up, which mostly just involved finding a stool for Tamlin to sit on. Mission accomplished, Andras sat back on his hands, watching as Tamlin fiddled with his guitar. The coffee shop was almost empty, but it would start to fill up as Tamlin’s set started. He was a regular here.

“Don’t try that innocent act on me, I know all your secrets.” Andras pointed an accusing finger. “You found a hookup on Grindr. You’re welcome.”

“What? No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did. I know all the signs. Lucien and I barely see you anymore, you haven’t brooded in weeks, and I found this in your backpack.” For his final exhibit, Andras brandished a small foil packet that revealed itself to be a condom when he stopped shaking it around.

“Stop that!” Blushing, Tamlin snatched the condom out of Andras’s hand. “Why were you going through my backpack anyway?”

“Don’t change the subject. Who is it? That guy with the blue hair? What was his name, Ryan?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Tamlin’s second roommate, Lucien, asked, appearing as if summoned by an omniscient being that wanted to ruin Tamlin’s life.

“Tamlin’s new boy toy,” Andras answered before Tamlin could.

“Ooooooh. Is it that guy with the septum piercing? Rowan?”

Tamlin was about to tell them that he was moving out and they were never allowed to talk to him again when his gaze caught a familiar dark-haired figure swagger into the coffee shop. His heart stuttered, his breath caught in his throat. Rhys sat down at a table near his little stage, leaning back in the seat. He saw Tamlin staring and grinned, waggling his fingers obnoxiously in greeting.

Of course, Rhys had known where he was going. Tamlin had come here straight from Rhys’s apartment, having barely escaped from the lean arms that had grabbed at him, inviting him back into the comforting warmth of Rhys’s bed. Tamlin just hadn’t thought that Rhys would actually show up.

Too late, he remembered that he was in public, being scrutinized by the two people who knew him better than they knew themselves. He watched in horror as Andras and Lucien looked back and forth between Tamlin and Rhysand. Recognition dawned on their faces. At the same time, they said,

“No fucking way.”

[thevoidwatches]

The following is a long, rambling story about my difficulties writing prose fiction in the last few years. If you want to skip to the end, it's that I'm taking the plunge into writing again and have started work on a queer erotic novel currently titled Melting in her Mouth. Snippets may be forthcoming as I write.

It's been a long time since I did any creative writing - well, unless you count superhero RP servers as creative writing. Let's just say that it's been a few years since I've done any prose writing. And it's been even longer since I wrote any original prose - the last long-form thing I wrote was a MHA fanfic, Breath of Life, which has gotten one update in the last four years but which I swear I will finish some day! Before that it was a series of original superhero novels that I got two-and-a-bit books into (can you tell that I like superheroes?) called Paternum, which I'm sorry to say I probably won't be going back to. If I ever do, it'll probably be a complete rewrite as I'm no longer satisfied with the pacing of my plot outline.

In these last few years, I've done a lot of other creative stuff. I've gotten a lot better at drawing (although like most artists I'm still never satisfied with my work). I've gotten a lot better at guitar (although I'm still not brave enough to try writing my own songs). I've done a lot of gamemastering, as the aforementioned RP servers were living worlds.

Mostly, though, I did RP. I did an awful lot of it - my records (because I'm that kind of nerd) suggest something like 2 million words, as a conservative estimate. That's a hell of a lot of writing. It's likely more than all my prose put together - Paternum totals to something like 400k, Breath of Life barely tops 100k, and none of my other non-public works like the Court Magician or Ruins of the Empire match up to either in length (around 60k but finished, and only 30k and abandoned, respectively). Even my early-early works like the Family Trade and Time Until Death (abandoned in college and finished in high school) won't tip the scales. I'm not even going to count story concepts that never got off the ground, like Starlight City Champions or the Empyriad.

Given that the vast majority of my output, now, has been collaborative RP - and that all of my recent work has been - it probably shouldn't be surprising that I find myself nervous at the idea of going back to prose. I have to write the whole thing?? All by myself?!? That's scary! Not to mention that these days I'm used to long, long-form stuff - stories with no set end, designed to continue immediately.

And that, of course, is a fear of its own. It's happened to me multiple times at this point - I come up with an idea for a story and start outlining it, and the outline just... keeps going. And going. And when I finally cut it off, at what seems like a reasonable point, I realize that it's actually unreasonable long. That's why Starlight City Champions is unlikely to ever happen - I outlined 6 books, then realized that each book was likely to be at least 300k words which, at a conservative estimate of writing around 2k words a week (the rate at which I wrote Paternum), would have taken almost two decades!

But the thing is, that fear - the fear that I'll never finish anything - was pushing me to never even start anything. If I never started, I would never disappoint myself by not finishing. But... either way, I wasn't putting out anything complete.

I've made a resolution to myself - I'm going to start a story, and I'm going to finish it. I'm starting small - a romance novella - and I'm starting self-contained. No room for sequels, no big overarching plot to spiral out of control, no huge cast of characters that all need development. A simple story with a straightforward outline.

I've prepared myself, I hope. I read Gwen Hayes' Romancing the Beat to make sure that my plot outline would work. I read some romance novels that I find inspirational - and aspirational - like @bibliosphere's Hunger Pangs and @unpretty's Unprofessional Behavior (can you guess that my novel is going to be erotica as well as romance?). I passed my outline to friends online to get feedback, and went through a handful of revisions before I told myself that it wasn't going to get any better by stalling longer.

I started writing Melting in her Mouth (working title, it may change) this weekend. After some false starts, the words are flowing again. I feel good about this. I feel hopeful.

If you take anything from this long, rambling meditation on nothing, let it be this - don't let your fears stop you from doing the things you enjoy.

Oh - and that I'm working on a queer erotic romance novel. Snippets may be forthcoming as I get farther into it.

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 3)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship (but like it’s all legal chill), SLOWburn we’re in for a long ride

Word Count: 2038

A/N: Once again thank you for all the love this is a side blog so I can't reply from this account to you all below the post but I read every word I promise. You guys are the best ! Some people have asked about being tagged, yes I can tag you! So if you want to be added leave me a reply below and I'll tag you in the future parts and if you decide you want to be untagged just message me and I'll remove you it's okay I won't judge.

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 3, Next Chapter

Over the next few weeks you committed to showing up to lessons more often, you spent time with the Weasley's but you avoided getting into trouble. People started noticing the sudden change in your behaviour and dedication to your studies, Percy was very proud of your change in attitude and believed his talk with you helped you get there, you let him believe it but really it was all profesor Lupins doing. Unfortunately his class was the one you got the worst grades in, it was okay when you didn't attend and got bad grades but even with attendance they didn't grow it was your weakest subject.

Your evening smokes continued some days Lupin was there some he wasn't but he was there often some days he wouldn't smoke he would just be there to talk with you, your conversations turned deeper than they used to be as you got to know each other and you looked forward to them, you saw him as someone you truly connected with, yes the girly attraction was still there but what girl didn't find him attractive he had girls flirting with him constantly. It did make you feel uncomfortable watching the girls put bright lipstick on before entering his class and staying behind to ask him questions or for extra lessons, but he seemed to not mind and act profesional giving the girls extra lessons and paying no attention to their advances.

You had DADA last on Fridays which normally would've meant a lot of people not paying attention and aching to leave but profesor Lupin kept the class entertaining and engaging. It was a practical lesson, the ones your dread because with lack of practice you genuinely sucked at practical lessons. But you got through it and you were excited for the weekend to start, before you left the class Lupin asked you to stay behind. So you said bye to Percy and a few others telling them you'll join them later, you weren't worried that you'll get told off like with most teachers when they ask you to stay behind it was Lupin so you patiently waited for the last few girls to say "bye profesor" while walking out and then went over to his desk where he had sat down.

"What's up?" You asked as you approached his desk.

"Please, sit down Y/N." He said quite formally gesturing to the seat in front of him, now you were getting worried. "I'd like to speak with you about your grades." He paused and saw your face drop before continuing. "Now please don't think of this as a telling off, your attendance is better this year than any year before and I've heard great things from your other teachers about the progress you've been doing." He said but you still looked worried so he added. "You should be very proud of yourself Y/N." Which made you relax into the chair a bit more. "Nevertheless, I am worried about your grades in my subject as you're doing well in the theory side however it's using the spells in practice that you seem to struggle with. I know you've had a few hard years with the rotation of teacher, some worse than others, so it's not your fault you are in this position." He said all of this formally. "Although notoriously skipping classes for the last sexi years probably didn't help." He said with a small laugh as a friend rather than a teacher. "I want to help you, I've been speaking with your head of house about how we can improve your grades and we believe you need extra lessons, practical magic like this can't be learnt through studying alone in your dorm you need real practice. So I'm happy to offer you tutoring twice a week on Mondays and Wednesdays, to help you catch up." You sat silent still. "You don't have to do this, but profesor McGonagall and I do believe it is in your best interest." He added you just looked down embarrassed that you skipping classes has lead to this. "Okay Y/N I'm dying here please say something." He said casually addressing your silence.

"Thank you profesor." You said.

"How do you feel about my suggestion?" He asked.

"Embarrassed." You stated. "How so?" He asked I'm a caring tone. "I wouldn't be in this situation if I listened to everyone when they told me not to skip so many lessons."

"You're not the only student who will be receiving extra lessons, I have a small group of girls that have asked for extra time that I teach on Tuesdays. If you want you can join them so it's not just one-on-one if that's more comfortable for you?" He offered.

"But I'm the only one who actually needs tutoring. They only asked for it because they have a crush on you." You blurted out in your annoyance.

"Trust me crush or not some of those girls need extra lessons. Still after weeks of receiving them." He said honestly. "They're too busy staring at your lips to learn I guess." You said laughing to yourself, he gave you a gentle smile. "Y/N, you're a quick learner. You know the theory, with a little practice you'll be caught up by Christmas."

"Okay. As long as these lessons are done by 9pm." You said with a hint of humour.

"I would never let education get in the way of your nicotine addiction, I'm not a monster." He replied jokingly. "We have a deal." You say.

"Perfect, now enjoy your weekend." He said and you took that as a queue to leave. "And Y/N, don't let this overshadow all the effort you've been putting into your studies, you're doing amazing." He said whole heartedly.

"Thank you professor." You said leaving the classroom. You looked him as a teacher so if you needed anyone to give you extra lessons you were glad it was him.

You went straight to the great hall for dinner after your conversation with Lupin, Fred and George had a space saved for you next to them. "What took you so long?" Fred asked.

"Lupin is making me take extra lessons." You said solemn.

"Bullshit, you've been studying harder than ever."  Fred expressed.  "I know but I'm still behind, plus it's only two days a week and he said it'll only be until Christmas." You explained.

"I think it's a conspiracy." George stated. "Now why's that?" You ask amused. "They're obviously trying to keep you away from us so we don't pull any pranks." He expresses. "This has old minnie all over it." Fred adds sniffing the air comedically.

"Now that you mention it..." you say looking over at the teachers table watching Lupin and McGonagall speaking. "...Lupin did mention this being her idea."

"See! Merlin, Y/N we need to pull a prank now." George states. "Show them we can't be stopped so easily." Fred adds. "I don't know guys, I've been enjoying not sitting in detention."

"George, she's getting all soft." Fred states. "Now that's not okay." George replies and they both have a cheeky smile before they stand up and suddenly pick you up while you protest taking you out the great hall while you laugh and tell them to stop, you hadn't even had time to eat before the kidnapping and the whole school watched this happen but the boys didn't care. They carried you straight to the dorm room plopping you down on the sofa. "Y/N it's time to plan our first big prank of the year." George begins. "Perfect timing as well as we can go to Hogsmeade over the weekend to get any supplies we need."  You laugh and agree to the plotting, you plan a prank. It was to happen in the library, the plan was to hex every book, the books about animals would bite you, the books about history would disintegrate in your hands, the books about plants would be filled with soil and so on. You would obviously need to take all the real books and hide them but that wasn't a problem using the marauders map. You were looking at the map when you noticed Lupin was already standing on the bridge, you checked your watch and it was after 9pm already, he was just standing there you felt like you were missing out on seeing him plus you were scared he'd think you're ignoring him after your conversation earlier. "Boys I need to go, it was a pleasure scheming with you as always. I'll see you tomorrow." And with that you took the map, put it in your pocket and headed for the bridge. When you were around the corner you saw Lupin walking down the corridor in your direction, he must've finished smoking you thought. "Good evening professor." You said with a smile and me looked up at you with a grin. "Evening, Y/N. Evening stroll?" He questioned as if to ask why you didn't go to the bridge tonight.

"Just going to destress." You said showing him your pack of cigarettes.

"I forgot mine in my office I was just going to go get them." He explained, odd because he had been standing on the bridge for a while you think to yourself.

"You can borrow one of mine." You state.

"I'll give you two tomorrow." He replies turning around to walk with you. "I hope I wasn't too harsh on you today." He says as you walk after a moment of silence.

"You weren't harsh at all." You say with a hint of confusion.

"I didn't think you would come here today in all honesty, after the way you looked at me after class and during dinner." He said with a soft smile but you could tell there was some hurt behind there. "How did I look at you?" You ask.

"Differently." He simply stated, maybe because usually you look with admiration and a bit of lust while now you were looking at him like at a teacher for the first time.

"Well you are about to ruin two evenings a week for me by making me study." You remark.

"Is that how you see spending time with me? Am I ruining your evening right now?" He teased.

"You know what I mean, this Lupin isn't the same as profesor Lupin." You say adding emphasis to professor.

"I am the same person Y/N. If you're afraid that I'm going to be making you write essays and do homework you're mistaken, I promise I'll make the evenings fun." He says in his teacher tone. Maybe it was the mischievous energy from planning a prank that allowed you to say what followed maybe it was purely forgetting he's not your friend but you replied with. "Fun evenings? What does that mean?" You watched him swallow getting a bit uncomfortable and not knowing how to answer. "I mean don't treat it like a punishment. I'm just trying to help." Your brain went straight to replying with something inappropriate about getting punished but you held your tongue as you didn't want to push it too far.

"I hope you don't think I hate you, I really enjoy our talks." You say. I really only came here to talk to you, I feel like smoking on a empty stomach will make me feel worse." You we're over sharing now but he didn't seem to mind.

"I watched you get carried out by the Weasley twins before dinner, the whole school did." Lupin remarked unamused making your face go red.

"Yeah they were messing around and wanted to go talk as they said I've been too busy with lessons this year."

"They sound like a bad influence," He said sternly before pausing and thinking. " keep them around sometimes you need friends like that." He added.

"Profesor you're great at encouraging bad behaviour." You say laughing.

"Friendships like that are sometimes very important, if only you knew what I got up to when I was your age." He said with a soft reminding smile.

"And what would that be?"

"I can't say, I'm your teacher after all." He added a wink at the end which you didn't know the meaning of, but all you did know was you wouldn't find out anything more about his past.

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

Tags (leave a reply and I’ll add you or PM me to get removed):

@thesoundresoundsecho @ahoyyharrington

[70s-show-diary]

Rules: List the first line of your last ten (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern.

"God, that's crazy." I point at Steven. "You so came on to me first." (Liminal Space, 2024)

"Hey, Roy. Is Steven in the kitchen?" (Christmas Cheer, 2022)

Jackie did what she could to conceal her smile as Steven silently made his way over to the passenger side door to open it for her. (Words Left Unsaid, 2018)

Two weeks and three days, but I wasn't counting...I swear. (Let's Grow Up Together, 2018)

Erythema had blossomed angrily over Jackie' s skin located just above her radial pulse on her left wrist. (It Takes Time to Fall in Love, 2017)

The moon dimly illuminates my room enough so that I can just barely make out Steven's silhouette as he closes my bedroom door. (Starlight, 2016)

Angie was out for blood. Steven's blood. (The Fine Print, 2016)

"You're going to see 'Star Wars'?" I snap my head up, not sure that I heard Steven correctly. (Here We Go Again, 2015)

"Jackie Beulah Burkhart." (The Speech, 2015)

Most people would leave a bucket of dead, offensive, and foul-smelling fish they found in an empty parking lot right where it was. I, on the other hand, never missed an opportunity to capitalize on ruining someone's day. (The Renewal: Through the Eyes of Steven Hyde, 2014)

Comments: Fun fact, with the exception of my one-shot/drabble series and my very first T7S fic, this actually covers all of my T7S fics. I also included the dates these were published because these ten fics cover ten years of fic-writing for me (I'm a steady, but not prolific writer). I don't really detect any patterns, and I think that is partially due to how I've changed as a writer these last ten years and also because I love to experiment with different hook styles (dialogue, character building, action, etc.).

Thank you for the tag, @those70scomics! If there are any writers (T7S or otherwise) out there that haven't yet been tagged, consider reading to the bottom of this post the sign that you've been tagged!

[thunderous-wolf]

L.O.V.E#

Installment 3 of my series of "Thoughtz"

Note: "Thoughtz" is a compilation of drafts of fanfic that I've had in my notes for a while. They're unedited and most are unfinished. Since I do not feel motivated enough to finish them, I'm posting them all for you to read. Enjoy~

Pairing: Rock singer Minho × fem!reader (no relationship as of yet). Strangers to Lovers trope

Plot: Your friend drags you to a concert of some stupid band that you've never heard of - except, it's not so stupid if the lead singer is hot...

Warnings: none

Word count: I don't know, but probably somewhere between 500-1k

a/n: I lost interest in this story pretty quick, so it stops early on. HOWEVER, if this gets enough attention, I may be persuaded to complete it.

And as always, feel free to comment.

Please DO NOT copy, translate, or steal my works.

It was the last few weeks before school started up again, and you wanted to enjoy every last bit of it. You were planning to go out of state and visit some old friends since 1: you haven't seen them in what feels like forever, and 2: you're single, so there's nobody (other than you're friends who were almost all on vacation somewhere) holding you back from going anywhere. You had this all planned out and were already preparing for the trip when Jennie, you're one friend who is not on vacation, texts you.

Jennie: Hey! I need a favor...

You: What did you do?

Jennie: I didn't do anything this time, I swear! I just need you to come with me to the VENOM concert at JYPark next Saturday. Everyone else is on vacation, and I don't want to go alone! You HAVE to come with, I don't know what could happen if I went alone!

You: I was planning on leaving to go out of state next week to visit some friends. I don't think I'll be back by next Saturday. Plus, I don't even listen to VENOM's music, or know who they are

Jennie: It doesn't matter, I just need someone with meee! PLEASE come with! I'll owe you a favor!

You: ...

You: Fine.

Jennie has been your friend since you could remember. You had to admit, she did have a somewhat selfish side, but she'd been with you through the thick and thin, and you've developed a soft spot for her. You hastily texted your friends that you'd have to cut the trip a little short because something popped up. They understood and were happy that they'd atleast get to see you.

~TIME SKIP~

You arrived back home the Thursday before the concert. You spent the next days until the concert unpacking, relaxing, and getting settled back in to your schedule. Jennie was filling you in on some basic info about VENOM over texts, and you could tell she was very passionate about them. From what you've gathered, VENOM is a rock band boy group with four members. Chan, the eldest, was the bass player. He apparently had an accent that was "super sexy". Minho was the main singer and keyboardist with "amazing dancing skills that aways captured your attention like a magnet". Changbin was the drummer and was "absolutely stunning and totally kissable" as Jennie had said. Last but not least was Hyunjin, the youngest, who was their guitarist and a "complete heartthrob".

You didn't know exactly how accurate Jennie's descriptions were, but atleast you knew some names. They started the band a couple years ago - was it 2? 3? You hadn't really cared enough to remember - and they've been playing at bars, parties, and small festivals ever since then. They weren't outstandingly popular, but they did have enough popularity to have all of their concerts packed. Their music had to be pretty good then, right?

When the day of the concert came, Jennie excitedly appeared at your door at 8 am. She was already dressed up in as flamboyant of a outfit that you have ever seen. You could tell she took her time on her look. She must have woke up early, but she certainly didn't show it. She had more energy than you.

"You look like you just slept for two days in the luggage compartment of an airplane! Go grab a cup of coffee to wake you up and quickly get back here! We need to get you ready to go by 11!" She said, almost talking a mile a minute. It was hard for your half asleep brain to keep up with her.

"11 o'clock?! The concert isn't until 2!" You said, alarmed. She shooed you into the kitchen towards the coffee machine.

"We're going to the sound check, dummy." She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Instead of replying, you directed all of your focus (and energy) to making that cup of coffee.

When you came back to your room with the mug in your hand, you found her ruffling through your closet with one hand while the other held an array of clothing.

"Ah, there you are. Are you feeling more green or purple...?" She said, more to herself than to you as she held the clothes up at you. After looking between you and the clothes for what felt like an hour (it was really only a minute), she nodded her head with a huff and got back to ruffling through your closet.

Seeing as she's distracted, you go find your phone to see if you got any messages from your friends. Almost as if sensing your presence, your phone dings from a notification. You pick it up to see that Felix, who also like Jennie, has been your friend since childhood. You used to hang out with him all of the time before you and Jennie went to a different school/college than the rest of your friends.

Felix: Thank you once again for visiting us! The cookies we baked together are already gone... I've got to keep Jisung from eating them all ;) Is everything going alright with you, Sunflower? I know you had to leave early but, I just never got to ask why.

You: I told you you should've hid them from Jisung! I'm doing all right. I had to with Jennie to some concert - she's just being high maintenance as usual, lol

Felix: That's sounds like her. Whose concert is it?

You: Some band called VENOM apparently. I've never heard of them before.

Felix: VENOM? From what I've heard, they're pretty good. My sister went to one of their concerts once with her friends. She actually enjoyed it and she doesn't even like rock music

You: They must be pretty good then

You found yourself saying that quite a bit lately. You didn't know how much faith you had in Jennie's words, but Felix's comforting texts made you feel a little better. He had an incredible skill for soothing people, and that was what you missed most during your school here, along with his warm smile that seemed to light up the whole room. Jennie's voice broke you from your reverie.

"You took a shower last night, right? Well, just put the clothes on that I laid out on your bed and use that perfume I gave you. Be quick too! It's already 8:15 and I have to have enough time to perfect your makeup!" She shouted from presumably the bathroom, where all of your makeup was kept.

She picked out quite the outfit for you. It had a mix of greens and black with silver accents and it gave off the "single and ready to mingle" vibe. It was surprising how she pulled it together, as it was definitely not your style and your clothes closet reflected that. Reluctantly, you put it on and once you looked in the mirror, you had to admit, you did look pretty hot in it.

Jennie was already waiting for you when you made it to the bathroom. She had the counter set up as her workplace, with an assortment of products placed about. She looked at you with your hairbrush in one hand and curling iron in the other.

"Are you just going to stand there and stare like a goldfish or what? Get over here." She said and immediately got to work.

After quite some time, she finally let you look at your final look on the mirror. You were very shocked. You didn't quite look like you, but you looked good - and you liked it. Your now slightly wavy hair framed your face perfectly, and your eyeshadow perfectly complemented your outfit. It was a job well done by Jennie.

"Watcha think?" She said, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"I can't even... wow, just wow. You're incredible, you know that?" You respond, still in awe.

"Oh, I know. You'll thank me later." She said. "Now we've got to go, it's 11:05."

Before you could respond, she hurriedly walked down the hallway to your door and put her shoes on. You followed her and did the same. You felt a little sick to the stomach and you couldn't tell if it was from nervousness or excitement.

Having finally made it to JYPark, you see why she insisted on leaving an hour early. The traffic to get here was out of this world, and the park was crowded with VENOM fans - known as "Oddinary" or "Odds" for short, according to Jennie. *She's got that right. They all are odd. * You thought to yourself. Gazing out at the crowd that surrounded the stage, there was what felt like hundreds of people, each adorned with some piece of VENOM merch paired with brightly colored hair or makeup. For a rock group, their fans looked more like modern pop stars gone wrong.

The concert was set at a plaza in the middle of the park, with trees and well taken care of flowers circling the plaza as far as you could see. Above you was the large expanse of sky that had to be breathtaking at night. Despite the rowdy crowd and stage lights, it felt peaceful here, putting your mind at ease. That peace was short lived.

A commotion broke you out of your stupor, drawing your attention - like many other's- to the stage once more. By the screaming of the fans closer to the stage, you could infer that the band was going on stage for their sound check, whatever that was. You had no clue why Jennie insisted on coming early for it when she was already going to their two and a half hour long concert, but you were just along for the ride.

One by one, four figures appeared on stage. The first crossed to the back of the stage and went up a ramp that led to a higher platform which held the drum set. You tell from here that he was no stranger to the gym. You could see why Jennie called him "absolutely stunning and totally kissable". By the way her face lit up, you figured she had a thing for this drummer. While he was adjusting the drum set, the next figure crossed to the far right of the stage. He picked up the bass that was sitting on its stand behind him and plugged it into the machine on the floor infront of him that held an array of buttons and pedals that did who knows what. The next person caught your eye the moment he came on stage. It wasn't because he had outrageously dyed hair, or an overly bedazzled outfit, but his stage presence seemed to allure you. He had a confidence that made it seem as if he'd been doing this his whole life - and maybe he has. Jennie didn't give you much background information on them, so you had no clue. He truly looked like a professional up there, with each movement purposeful and graceful. He had this charm about him that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

You were so enraptured with him that you didn't notice the fourth member get on stage. His hair drew your attention from - what was his name, Min.. Minho? The guitarist's hair was blonde, much like Felix's, and you suddenly felt keenly aware of how much you missed your good friend. He used to take you to all sorts of new places around town, and it feels almost wrong not to have him here with you even though it's been several years since you had an outing with him. Just the two of you, in a sea of new faces, facing it together. It made you miss your carefree middle school days (even though they may have been embarrassing) where you would explore the city together, sometimes getting in trouble, but never truly facing many repercussions.

[sumire-no-nikki]

To Be Here

October. My beloved October. The kotatsu blanket is back on, the indoor plants don't need as much watering, the fallen leaves in the backyard need sweeping and the Summer clothes have been put away. Funny how many friends I've recently chatted with about the bliss that comes with October. It's a burst of orange ochre and apple red in my head. When the season turned, the sun who has since made herself scarce is a warm embrace whenever she pokes her head out. The wind and clouds are constant companions. The evening is perfect for mysterious reads under candlelight. What a splendid month.

As I am typing this, however, October is nearly done. Something this good always leaves too soon, doesn't it? I love the first taste of cold after the pesky Summer heat and September’s false promises of colder days. October is where it really gets going. But it's always nearly done before I feel like I can properly savor it. How melancholy!! But isn’t that how it always goes? Love is more deeply felt after only the crater it left is the one thing you’ve got to remember it by? Love defined by the lack, the absence, the loss? There will never be enough Octobers for me. I’m a creature of want in this way, yearning is an instinct for me. I watch the days go by and the thought that there won’t be another October until next year is like quicksand for my mind.

That said I’ve spent the month working diligently and on the whole being rather productive in both work and personal matters. There’s this project I’ve started and making good progress on! Once completed I promised myself a trip where I can apply what I’ve learned and I’m so excited to reach that goal. I’ve also read a lot this month. I really surprised myself. I’ve read six books and the month isn’t over yet! I read two Agatha Christie books, all three of the Toshikazu Kawaguchi series (the fourth one is coming out next month!! And I’ll have to read the fifth one in Japanese because I don’t want to wait for the translation to come out!!!) I also read Matt Haig’s The Midnight Library as recommended by a friend and I'm so glad she brought it up! I've had a copy of it for ages but just never managed to pick it up due to associated memories (it was given to me by someone during a bad period in my life!!) I swear that book might've just saved my life. I also finished two manga volumes in Japanese this month. It's a series called Yotsuba&! which is just the most wholesome series. Maybe I'll talk about it someday on here. But that series is such a light in my life. I picked it up on one particularly tough day last week and it instantly revived hope in my heart that there's still good out there no matter what.

Other things I've been up to: I've been running a lot these days and I'm actually surprising myself with how much I enjoy it. Earlier today (I'm typing this before bed) I went on a run while it was drizzling. I felt like a kid playing in the rain. I couldn't stop smiling!

Also, the podcast show I mentioned some entries ago!! Case 63!! It has a season 2!! Actually, I found out it's originally by a Chilean writer, so the version I listened to is an English adaptation. Anyway, I'm so happy there's more of it. Season 3 is the final season in Spanish so I expect the English adaptation of that will also be made (since they went so far as to continue with season 2). Fingers crossed! I'm so intrigued as to how it will end!!

As for TV, I started and finished watching HBO's Barry in like a week. I was absorbed!! All four seasons! Mind you, each episode is only 30 mins so it wasn't really that long. It's such a funny and dark show I love it so much. I've heard good things about it through the years but I never found the time to get into it. Plus I have this terrible illness of "I-Can't-Get-Into-Things-When-It's-Super-Mainstream-I-Need-To-Wait-Until-The-Hype-Dies-Down-itis" lol. No, seriously I just didn't feel like getting into a new show until this month apparently. But I'm so glad I watched it. The show is a goldmine, the best Hollywood/LA culture satire I've seen in ages. The way it highlights the gender gap in the workplace, how a writer must compromise on truth in order to sell something, even the way a woman needs to be a "perfect victim" in order for her story to be worth anything! It's so witty!! And the central question of can people truly change--I'll be thinking about this show for a long time. It's so good. Watch it if you can.

Early this month I also managed to sneak a quick trip to Croatia and Slovenia which was so relaxing and peaceful. Trips can be quite stressful for me especially when it's a big city full of tourists due to my OCD (I'm looking at you Paris, and literally all of Italy smh... jk jk) But this trip was restorative and gave me a genuine sense of discovery and wonder, which is what I aim to travel for.

I've been listening to the new Mitski album and rethinking my home library's organisation system! I haven't decided yet but I mainly want my Classical Mythology books, both fiction and non-fiction in one area. Also wishing I bought two Caryatid statues in Athens last year instead of one! Would've been nice for her to have a buddy!!

Now, the title of this entry comes from a realisation I had this month--a very important one. As someone whose nature is to think and think and think, it's difficult to be in the present. I'm always in agony over the past, and anxious about the future. I can be quite dismissive of what's in front of me as a result. This is a chronic issue of mine. But while reading The Midnight Library, tucked in my reading chair, savoring the scent of a pumpkin pie candle, all the pieces of advice I've read both online and in person suddenly clicked.

When writing a first draft of a novel, it simply needs to exist.

When making art, it simply needs to be there.

When yearning to do something, I must attempt it

When wanting to exist, I simply am.

I just need to be here in the most literal sense. To be. Not in the past tense, not in the future tense. There's no need for qualifiers. There is no standard to fulfill. I know this is neither new nor revolutionary, but in the embrace of an October evening, digesting this advice and accepting it made me feel so brave.

It hit me like a sucker punch. I thought, I need to untangle my sense of self and my worth from anything external. I cannot keep on doing this to myself. Because the truth is if I don’t stop this constant self-flagellation, I have simply replaced my mother in adulthood. I will have been no different from her and her constant need to criticise me. This is something I've been actively trying to improve recently and I can feel myself getting better. I feel, somewhat ironically, that by being present, I'm regaining a sense of hope that I haven't felt since childhood. Like somehow my past is healed and my future is assured.

So despite how much I've gone on about loving October at the beginning of this entry, as much as I know I will miss it, I have to be where I am. That means accepting that all things end--good or bad. That means being in November when it comes. That means understanding that what I've lost, while dearly missed, is out of my grasp now. That means what will happen to me is tomorrow's business.

This entry's song I've repeated to death (which is a very good thing) this month. It's by an artist I really enjoy. I cannot wait for new material from her and this new single is a sign of really good things to come!

I leave you with a photo of a friend I made while out on a walk. What shall I name him?

Have a wunderbaaahhh rest of Octobaaaahhh! 🐑