#im over hear trying to set up some sort of “study schedule” when what i can really do is just... draw and study from reference...

[kittenishbeam]

Sometimes I really be over complicating/over thinking shit when there are simpler ways i can go about something omg. Like I be trying to force myself to understand concepts all at once when there are simpler ways I can either study them in general or learn them gradually

[adorerdraco]

It’s Only Quidditch ✧ Draco x Slytherin!Reader

Request: can i please request you and draco being in slytherin and dating for a while and you two are on the quidditch team with him so maybe you two are in a match together but you get hurt and he gets worried and has to win the game and visits you after and maybe even wrecks the person who hurt you hehe just fluff and angst

AU AROUND 6TH YEAR NO VOLDY

Warnings: angry!draco, vengeful!draco, VIOLENCE, kinda graphic details like blood and injuries, lil bit of angst

Words: 3.9K (love making these long for no reason)

A/N: ANGRY DRACO IS SO HOT IM SORRY WOW BUT I HOPE THIS IS GOOOOD PLEASE ENJOY MY MADE UP CHARACTER AND MY SUPER LONG QUIDDITCH GAME THAT CONFUSED ME AFTER A WHILE OF TRYING TO WRITE LMAO and i made gif :)

November had begun and with it came the new season of quidditch at Hogwarts along with very poor weather and over-bundling nerves. Tensions had always gotten high around this time of the year amongst the teams and all animosity between the house’s respective players was on the forefront as the competition was building. It was like clockwork every year; captain’s starting strenuous training schedules, begging Snape to help book the stadium even if it was already occupied, spying on other teams to figure out their strengths and weaknesses. Not to mention the arguments that would happen regularly in between the first couple of games when you and your teammates would be accused of cheating or using dangerous and illegal moves. Which did happen to be true most of the time.

It was safe to say that it was the most eventful time of the year, and as suffocating as it sometimes got - you looked forward to it every time the new term started. It was in quidditch that you found yourself feeling the freest in, zipping around the stadium in a flash of green with the wind blowing through your hair and crisp autumn air biting at your cheeks. But most notably, it was in quidditch that you met Draco Malfoy and had quickly evolved from teammates to friends, to him now being your boyfriend.

You made Slytherin’s team your second year as a Chaser, a shiny new broom being given to you on the first day of scheduled training when Lucius Malfoy had made a generous donation that came along with a new platinum blond seeker. With the two of you being the latest additions to the teams, your captain, Marcus Flint, had decided to leave the dirty work for the two of you to do in the downtime every one else was able to enjoy. Marcus never changed that as the years went on.

So you and Draco would be sent off to other teams’ practices nearly every other day or week, depending on how secure Flint was feeling, both of you huddling closely together for sometimes hours behind the thick wooden benches as you watched and studied tactics with conversations in between. You would joke around a lot and call him your partner in crime which he would always roll his eyes to and make a snide and playful comment about even if he secretly loved hearing it. And the two of you stayed partners in crime for a while, neither of you ever making any move towards the other besides lingering touches and longing looks, and very rarely, a shy compliment.

It wasn’t until last year when you were hiding behind the bleachers, bored out of your mind watching Ravenclaw have a flawless run through around the stadium when you were graced with the dumbest idea.

“They’re playing good today,” you drawled out, “too good that it’s boring.”

“You reckon they studied so hard and found the key to quidditch?” He snickered as he played around with a pebble on the ground with his wand.

“We should help them out,” you suggested as Draco turned to raise a puzzled eyebrow at you. “Prepare them for the unexpected, nothing too crazy.”

You took out your wand from your pocket and pointed it towards one of their Beaters that was sitting idly by on their broom, a faint “confundus” leaving your lips that caused the broom to jerk swiftly to the side and nearly topple over its rider.

“You’re a genius,” Draco laughed quietly, repositioning himself so that he was right beside you with his wand directed out into the field. He spotted one of the bludgers flying towards the same Beater and instead of colliding with the bat, he used a charm to direct it into the back of their broom and then doubled it back around to try and hit one of the passing by Chaser’s that moved at the very last minute. 

You were a giggling mess, gripping tightly onto Draco’s arm as you watched everyone begin to look around wildly for the wild bludger with panicked expressions. What either of you didn’t realize in the middle of your joyed hysterics and Draco’s smugness for causing the angelic sounds, was that the bludger was flying idly still in front of the bleacher’s as his wand was still trained on it without moving it around anymore, his focus completely gone and concentrated on you.

It wasn’t until you heard someone yell out a, “Is that Malfoy and Y/L/N back there again?!” That made you get up with a sudden jolt, grabbing onto your accomplice’s hand as you ran towards the set of stairs that descended out of the stands. All you heard was distant angry insults and threats quickly fading out of ear-shot while you ran, laughing uncontrollably alongside Draco with his hand still tightly gripped in yours. 

When you finally reached the entrance of the empty courtyard of the castle with flustered cheeks and wheezing chuckles, you looked down at your joined hands at the same time he did and after a few seconds of realization and lingering adrenaline, you quickly moved into each other with a yearning kiss that changed everything from that day forward.

Draco stood beside you while you sat on a bench outside the locker room, your head resting lazily on the side of his leg while his fingers carded soothingly through your hair. Marcus was pacing in front of you, using his broom as a walking and pointing stick whenever he wanted to add any calculated words to his very hostile pep-talks that left everyone feeling more irritated and stressed.

Today was the last game of the season and the most important, it was the game that ended the season with a shimmering Inter-House Quidditch Cup and it just so happened to be against Gryffindor, making the stakes much higher than they already were. The matches against Gryffindor were by far, the most dangerous as they weren't afraid to play roughly either if push came to shove. The determination to beat each other and to win was critical on both sides and the day always ended with some sort of injuries.

“I don’t care how dirty we have to play today,” Flint fumed to the team, “I don’t care how many fouls we get, as long as we win.”

“Relax, Flint,” you sighed deeply. “We have the best players on our team and we’ve been working our arses off all season, we’ll be fine.”

“Still, I want to see blood out there,” he muttered back, walking towards the entrance of the field as Madam Hooch started calling your team out to start.

You stood up with a huff, Draco frowning when he noticed how tense you looked when your eyes worriedly met his.

“All right, love?”

“I'm just nervous,” you shrug, “I don’t want to mess up.”

The silver-haired boy moved to stand in front of you, placing two strong hands on either side of your arms to stand you in place so that he would be the only thing your wandering eyes were able to focus on.

“You are the best Chaser that Slytherin has ever had, no, that Hogwarts has ever had and I know for a fact you’re going to do amazing out there,” he cups your face with care, brushing a few stray hairs out of your face as he spoke. “You’ve got this.”

He pressed an encouraging kiss onto your forehead and then your lips, smiling at you supportively before taking your hand and hurriedly walking the two of you out into the field where the match was about to start.

Almost the whole school had shown up in an overcrowded sea of red and gold for Gryffindor. There were red sparks and small fireworks of lions that were charmed to roar when the animal would open its mouth. On one end of the stands, however, was the entire student body of Slytherin that was throwing green and silver ribbons and sparklers from their wands, yelling loudly in support as if their life depended on it. Over the rails, they had thrown down a large poster of a snake that moved around sleekly over large green words that read, “SLYTHERIN FOR THE WIN.”

Rain was lightly drizzling from the grayed dense clouds above, a sharp chill in the air from an approaching winter that always seemed to give the worst weather during the last couple of games of the year. You didn’t mind it since the cold had always felt nice against your sweaty skin during the game and it served like a small revitalizing shock that gave you a surge of energy to push forward with. 

Madam Hooch quickly went over the rules, set free the bludgers, and the snitch, forced the two captains, Wood and Flint, to shake hands and by the time she had counted down from three to one - brooms were soared into the sky with such speed it looked like a tornado had formed as she threw the quaffle up into the air.

A roar of cheers erupted from beside you as you got ahold of the quaffle, dashing past your House while you headed straight towards the Gryffindor’s goal post and managed to make the first shot in within the first five minutes of the game putting you at 10-0. You spotted Draco flying around above, smiling down brightly at you with triumph that only fueled your confidence as you darted forward to catch the ball again. You were, just as Draco had said, the best Chaser on the team and in all of the school. You were fast, agile, and smart when it came down to it and you were the reason why your team had easily wracked up 40 points with thirty minutes down in the match. Marcus was always trailing behind you with focus, shoving anyone who tried to get to you or pulling them back by their robes that landed Slytherin a couple of fouls throughout. 

You didn’t like to play dirty, but when Katie Bell had rammed into your side either accidentally or on purpose, it knocked the quaffle out of your hands and into one of their other Chaser’s, Rowan Rees, a muscular and tall seventh-year boy that had made the team that same year. With Katie still closely trying to cut you off, you veered sharply into her with your shoulder before breaking away from her and heading towards your goal post where they were trying to shoot. 

“ILLEGAL PUSHING FROM Y/L/N, FOUL AGAINST SLYTHERIN!” 

You rolled your eyes at the announcer, completely ignoring the boo’s that had filled the air as you whizzed past the other houses even though it was you who got hit first. Just as Rees had raised his arm to score, you flew over him, swooping your arm underneath your broom until you felt the quaffle back in your palm and ripped it from his grasp. The match was becoming more intense by the second, Gryffindor was promptly catching up in points because of the penalties they were awarded from the illegal moves your team was making and it left you feeling more pressured that it was nearly a tie now, Flint reminded you of that every chance he zoomed past you.

Unbeknownst to you, Draco was watching you cautiously from across the field most of the game when he noticed how close everyone was trying to get to you. You didn’t see the way you were almost tugged back multiple times or were missed by inches when someone was about to push you. Or how the Beaters were deliberately directing the bludgers in your direction. You also didn’t see how irked you had made Rees with your constant scoring and with the sporadic few times you had cut him off or almost bumped into him - but your boyfriend did, and he was much more focused on your safety now than the Golden Snitch he or Potter hasn’t spotted yet. Instead of searching for it, he was purposefully maneuvering himself around in front of the other Chasers to throw them off their focal point towards you so that you would have a clearer path to fly through.

He watched as you pulled your broom upwards to try and twist away from the area but Rees had reached out and pulled at your ankle, sending you out of your seat as the quaffle fell while you tried to rebalance yourself. That was all the encouragement the blond needed when he hurtled down into the mess, kicking at the back of Rees’ broom and sending him quickly spinning on a dive before he could try and move any further. 

“FOUL AGAINST REES AND MALFOY FOR KICKING AND TUGGING!”

“MALFOY!” Flint roared as he flew past, “Potter’s spotted the snitch! This isn’t your place, get out of here, NOW!”

And when he looked up, sure enough, Harry was going around desperately with an arm outstretched towards the small glint of gold that was moving too fast. 

“Go, I’m fine!” You shouted out to him when you flew back up with the ball back in your arms.

It was like slow motion when he forced himself to leave your surroundings, everything around him was moving fast and intensely with everyone screaming wildly that he couldn’t think straight. In a daze, he haphazardly sped towards Harry but noticed the panicked look on the seeker’s face when he had lost sight of it again which directed his attention right back to you. You were right in front of the Gryffindor goal post, arm stretched over your head and releasing the quaffle with a harsh throw.

“Y/L/N MAKES THE GOAL, TEAMS ARE AT A TIE-”

It wasn’t until the very last minute that everyone, including you, had realized the flash of red that came hurtling into your side at full speed, Rees colliding so loudly with you that it echoed around the stadium in a powerful clang and crack.

Draco watched in horror as you were thrown off your broom, your now unconscious body falling like a rag doll with a speed that sent his stress levels into overdrive. He had never pushed down on his broom so fast, immediately abandoning his spot to bolt towards you even as Marcus was screaming at him to not go. 

A few feet above the ground and before you met it, he managed to loop his arm around your waist and heave you onto the front of his broom with a slight struggle as it was now raining hard and clouding his vision. He saw Madam Pomfrey and Mcgonagall rushing into the field, hands holding tightly onto their hats as they worriedly rushed towards the area where your broom had fallen and where Draco was hovering over with you. 

“TEAMS ARE TAKING A 10 MINUTE TIME OUT!”

Marcus had flown down towards him, face twisted in fury and annoyance as he approached. 

“Is there a reason you’re not being a seeker, today?” He spits, “because I’ve been seeing you do everything but your job.”

“My bloody girlfriend just got knocked out!” Draco seethed at him. “I’m not going back into the game, I’m going with her to the hospital wing.”

“Like hell you are,” Flint scowled, “if you leave, you'll forfeit us the game. If you stay and let Potter catch that Snitch so it’ll be over quicker, I will personally make sure that this is your last year on the team. You’re going to win this for us.”

“Mr. Malfoy!” McGonagall called up to him, waving her arms hastily. “She needs to go to the infirmary, immediately!”

The two Slytherins were staring each other down aggressively as Draco contemplated the threat he was just given. There was nothing more he wanted to do than to throw a hex at Flint and leave with you, but he just swallowed thickly and nodded at him before descending towards the ground and letting you off carefully into the hands of Madam Pomfrey. A surge of fear ran through his body when he finally saw you clearly; a harsh red mark was making its way up to your neck, the corner of your bottom lip had split and doubled in size, there was a small scratch on your cheekbone. It made him feel queasy, but he tore his eyes away from you and hopped back onto his broom while glaring angrily at Marcus and the distant group of huddled Gryffindor’s. 

He was blinded in rage when the match resumed and even more enraged when Flint had cheered loudly when the announcer granted Slytherin a penalty for the injury Rees gave you, allowing them basically to get a free score in against Gryffindor. Draco let his eyes wander around for the snitch for the first time that day and he could hear his heart thundering in his eardrums in distress as the rain continued to make his search worse. All he wanted was to get out of the game to check up on you, and then he'd come back to the stadium to throw his fists into Rees’ face with maybe a few hits in on Marcus.

Just as he was losing hope, he saw a flash of gold whiz past him with a loud buzzing that shocked him into alertness. He didn’t care that catching the snitch would win the game, or the cup, or give him all the glory, no - this was his ticket out. He dived towards it with his arm outstretched, hand thrashing around in the wind as he tried to eagerly catch it. In seconds, Harry was right beside him, bumping him with his shoulder to try and throw him off the path but Draco only pushed back harder. There was a flurry of shouting as everyone watched, the announcer was yelling into the mic about the seekers going head-to-head, bludgers were flying past him. 

It was pure chaos and urgency, Draco could feel the fluttering of its wings beneath his palm and when Harry pushed into him one more time, he felt the coldness of the Snitch get trapped into his enclosed hand, the vibration of its wings sending a current of relief up his arm that spread throughout his whole body as he soared up into the sky while brandishing it to the schools’ painfully watchful eyes.

“MALFOY HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH, WINNING SLYTHERIN THIS YEAR’S INTER-HOUSE QUIDDITCH CUP!”

Draco hurriedly made his way down to the field where the rest of his house was pooling into, celebrating proudly and calling out for him to praise, but when he landed on the ground and was met with half of the Gryffindor team including Rowan Rees - all his wrath came flooding back into him. 

Angelina, another Gryffindor Chaser, had nudged Rowan with her shoulder, pointing towards the Slytherin Prince that was stalking towards them.

“Malfoy,” Rees started bitterly, “sorry about the girlfriend, I was only trying to knock the quaffle out her hands.”

“After she had already thrown it?” He glowered, walking closer up to the boy that was beginning to straighten himself out and flex. “Looked a little personal seeing how she was dragging you through the dust the whole game.”

“Accidents happen, mate,” Rees shrugged, “it’s only quidditch, you won didn’t you? Maybe you should be thanking me for giving you that extra push to win the game.”

A clear line had been crossed and everyone who was listening knew it. But before Rowan could say anything to try and drag himself out of the hole he had just dug himself into, he was being tackled into the ground with Draco above him throwing punches wherever he could land them. There was loud hooting and laughing coming from the Slytherins that gathered around the fight, cheering loudly for their House superior.

Rees was thrashing around on the ground, trying frantically to throw off the extremely infuriated boy that was repeatedly pounding into his face with bloodied and bruised fists. Oliver Wood ran up to the sudden brawl, Fred and George following closely behind him as they all started trying to rip the fighting boy’s apart from each other. Oliver had gotten Draco off briefly, allowing Rees to try and get a hit in but it was dodged at the last second as the blond quickly leaped up to his feet. The fight immediately ended when a muddy shoe had collided with Rowan’s jaw and Draco stepped back satisfied with the damage he had done, roughly shrugging off the grip Oliver still had on his arm.

“It’s only quidditch, right?” He spat venomously from above the Gryffindor who was holding his now battered face in pain. “That’ll teach you from putting your hands on a woman too.”

“Mr. Malfoy!” Madam Hooch bellowed as she broke through the crowd in a frenzy. “50 points from Slytherin, go wait outside Professor Snape’s office for further punishment, go right now!”

Draco did go, and instantly, but he didn’t go down to the dungeons to hear about the lengthy detention that he knew he was going to get and the scolding for being reckless and stupid. His feet carried his sore body up the many stairs that led to the hospital wing, his pace picking up swiftly when he saw the large double doors of the infirmary ajar and he was able to hear a faint and familiar voice speaking indistinctly. 

He threw open the doors, walking straight in as if he owned the place and ignored Pomfrey’s requests for him to leave as he made a beeline towards your hunched figure that was facing away from him. 

“I need to see her,” he said to the nurse quickly when she stopped in front of him. “I’ll leave soon, please.”

At the sound of his voice, you hastily turned around in your spot to face him, a yelp escaping your lips for moving too quickly through your injuries. Pomfrey stepped out of the way with a sigh allowing Draco to jog over to you.

“I’m going to kill him,” he scowled when he reached you. You were wearing a sling, a deep purple and yellowed bruise quickly set itself over the side of your arm and the same cuts he saw from earlier were still scattered over your features. His fingers ghosted over your skin and he let out a deep shaky exhale of anxiousness before moving his thumb up to graze your cheek tenderly.

“What happened to you?” You asked quietly in shock when you noticed his mud-splattered clothes and tattered fists. 

“Long story,” he drawled. “Don’t worry about me, are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” you muttered with a slight shrug that made you whimper lightly. “Did we win?”

He nodded quietly, his eyes still scanning sadly over your face with a frown. “I swear, I’m going to kill him.”

“Only if I can help,” you sniggered faintly, trying to make light of the situation and succeeding in doing so when you saw he had cracked a small smile. With his hand still on your cheek, he bent down to press a firm kiss on the top of your hair and then warmly on the side of your mouth that wasn’t bleeding.

“I’ll just let you finish him off then,” he mulled amusingly when he pulled away.

“Finish him off?”

The doors of the hospital wing were thrown open again, a sea of red flowing inside as they carried in a pummeled Rowan with a busted lip, bloodied nose, black eye, and deeply bruised jaw. You looked briskly between Rees and Draco, both of them staring daggers at each other and it rapidly clicked in your mind why your boyfriend had looked like he just walked through a battlefield in your absence.

“Oh.”

[yakocchi]

Becoming a Family With Him, Part 3 // Shuichi, Hikaru, Rhion, Luke, Eisuke

so this came out, as further celebration for the anni. VERY GOOD, much more appreciated than the prior story set lol that one was kind of boring but i get it

they made the kids for all the... kid-less ones, and the eisuke one that used to be VIP-exclusive is now here for everyone to buy (rip those ppl who gacha for it)

my rambling behind the cut (spoilers!!)

shuichi // as ud expect, shuichi has a literal hime ass looking girl (kikyo) for a daughter. she’s only 6, but is pretty calm and ladylike. She even calls her parents with –sama so... ok luckily shuichi does not strip down all the way in the presence of her daughter and only takes off his suit coat. thanks dad

anyway since shuichi has a break coming up, he wants to have a family trip how nice. but then the dang girl wants to go over to see eisuke WHAT when soryu exists and lives a block away? unrelatable, im closing the app anyway eisuke is her first love, which wtf he’s like 20 yrs older than u. even worse, mc says she’s been in love since she was like 3.

shuichi is reconsidering the benefits of democracy in his mind but eventually relents. but then they’re still following the fucc-days rule they set years ago. well, as he says in the story, RULES ARE RULES

blah blah i don’t want to go over everything bc then it’ll be boring reading the story when it comes out in engl right? also im tired bc it’s 1 am and i just want to play toontown in bed but nothing really bad happens. they are a v cute family bc shuichi is a pleasant and mature dad. kikyo and mc even do a little surprise for him at the end and it is very sweet. i feel like out of all the families, this is the most ideal

mad hatter // so they have twin sons named Rui and Kai. Rui is the childlike one that resembles Rhion in personality, Kai is the more mature one that resembles Al. man i forget that boy’s name but u get me i know they only can use stock bgs but it’s killing me that these dang kids get to sleep in what looks like separate king sized beds.

even though rhion is now a father of two, he still acts like... 10. i mean he still horni but it makes me feel weird

later it’s revealed that Ota teaches them both as an art tutor bc they both showed an interest in art. this is cute bc ota is bad with kids in this universe LOL

the ending on this one was weird cuz the kids didn’t show up in the entirety of the last ep bc it was about WORK. so uh... interesting

hikaru // so their son is named akari. haha get it because it means light. like how hikaru also means light. can mc name her kids unrelated to their father or is that against the Geneva convention

this kid actually acts like an actual little boy. like what hikaru would’ve probably turned into if not for the whole sad backstory. the story starts with akari just bringing a dog randomly home one day. he actually saved the dog (it is very cute bc he did not want the dog to cry), and then after a talk they decide to keep the dog as long as akari knows the responsibility of taking care of an animal.

so next day, the bidders come over to their house and everyone’s like woaw a dog. lol they come into their house as guests and eisuke and mamo still demand for beverages, they all suck

akari names the dog... “Light” (Raito) and i want out of this nightmare. Naturally bc Light is an abandoned dog it’s still kind of bad with interacting with things. But then Light suddenly be giving the ( ╹ਊ╹) to soryu bc remember, animals love him. everyone clowns on soryu for being an unintentional dog whisperer and then akari is like “soryu san pls make me ur apprentice” and he gives some advice like approaching it slowly, and talking to it from the front instead of back.

blah blah there’s a situation where Light goes YEET after a Doberman gets all angry and then hides bc then another dog is scaring it. hikaru swoops in to the save the day as the Real Dog Whisperer. ok it’s cute when hikaru actually gets to look cool  for once LOL

luke // luke is cute on the bc “pre-story” scene he’s actually pretty open to the idea of having kids; he actually goes “well imo we should think abt it pretty soon, but i wanted to hear ur opinion on it” but then he gets horni. and then he’s like “our kids are going to have your collarbones. awesomeee im looking forward to that” ....ok

ok cut to the actual story and they’re in Japan. Luke’s kid looks... strange versus the others. why are his eyes so big? omg voltage his eyes arent going to be saucers just cuz he half white also the kid’s name is Yuri (Or Urey). They couldn’t think of any other Brit-styled names? Like Harry? Henry? William? Wilfred? hey stan be my princess btw he’s pretty cute, though he gives serious “timid kid that gets bullied in the children’s movie” vibes. He calls Luke “daddy” and mc “mammy/mommy”.

so luke talks about his relationship w/ soryu and eisuke and then yuri is like “i want friends like that” wow cute but also find less ethically-complicated friends

so luke lets yuri meet a young patient of his (haru) so they can be friends. they get along so it’s good. haru gets in critical condition later so luke zooms outta there to do the operation.

LOL but at the end yuri is like, “i want to make more friends. (...) can i go to the bidder’s room from now on?” this boy works fast

And then he’s like “Eisuke-san... please be my friend.” HIS POWER. even eisuke was like :O so then eisuke orders a whole bunch of food and books up to the penthouse. But then yuri’s like “...i like eisuke’s eyes” and everyone’s like oh man that’s gonna be his fetish

Baba: why have u started to have an interest in eyes Yuri: I read it from one of daddy’s medical books Hikaru: wtf u can read that at 4??? (...) Soryu: wat Yuri: um... i want soryu to be my friend too Yuri: bc soryu’s eyes are also powerfully cool...

eisuke // ok this gets an extended ramble bc the more annoying the story the longer i must complain

so you might be thinking, “oh so this is gonna be a flashback in some in media res styled story with your 2 kids, u know in the style of the others” and well, no you just go straight to white screen into the flashback, back when eito was smaller and thus a little more cute. well it’s not really false advertising bc they did say “reminisce” in the description. but i wanted to see eito be a good big brother for a moment! or... less good? man i wanted to see kaito go waaaah like a baby idk i wanted to see him exist

so back to the story they cut to small eito. even as a smaller punk he does fight with his dad a little, just w/ a more narrow vocabulary to work with. tho at this point he’s still pretty sweet so clearly eisuke clowning him day and night was a negative effect on his development. (doesn’t treat his child like a child) (child grows up to a punk that doesn’t respect him) (surprised pikachu) being the son of a billionaire means that this child has to go study at a very young age and listen to MOZART. no child of eisuke ichinomiya will be listening to degenerate bops like lee taemin’s criminal next day they all go to the very fancy school that eito will be attending. eisuke does a speech, but then eito is all like “why is papa over there all the time” in reference to how all the other parents in attendance are having fun with their children, but eisuke is busy talking to other people for business and connections etc. etc. mc kind of has a hard time trying to explain it to eito bc... it’s honestly poor parenting... eiji shows up after arriving late, and he’s like “gramps is gonna be with ya today! instead of papa” which is cute but then she’s like psst thanks for coming and im like oh... so grandpa just didn’t randomly come to the open house for fun he’s just gonna be surrogate dad while real dad is busy... aw... and then at the end eito’s like FUC THIS KINDERGARTEN. eisuke is like “(smh) don’t yell in public. (despite everything) you are still the eldest son of the Ichinomiya family”

and so afterwards it’s clear that eito does not want anything to do with this school. he just sits in the classroom until mc is there to pick him up instead of playing in the courtyard or w/e, wanting nothing to do with the other kids.

so later there’s a hiking trip for the students and both of their parents, and mc asks eisuke if he’ll be available for it. eisuke is like, “i have a business trip that day, so I’ll have to adjust my schedule” and he’s been very busy in the opening of a new business or w/e. mc tells him to not do so much for something like that and that it’s ok if she goes alone with eito on the trip.

it’s the day of the trip, and mc goes alone with eito. she notes that a lot of dads did indeed come along for the trip. she apologizes to eito and says that she did talk to eisuke about the trip before, but he’s simply busy for this day. and im like... but girl, you were the one who told him not to change his schedule for the trip. yes a trip may seem less important than business ventures, but don’t make it sound like you weren’t the one who stopped him. lol. idk why im pressed abt this single line of dialogue bc later she does realize she fucced up there well eito is just like w/e about it and has pretty much accepted that sort of thing

anyway eito goes missing later and one of the kids said that he told eito that his dad (eisuke) didn’t come bc his dad thinks that his work is more important than his son. so eito got mad and ran off somewhere

and then mc finally gets the lightbulb moment that eito... wants to see his dad!! he ran off to go try to see him somehow??? !! wow so sweet

it’s raining like a mf but then in her search for eito eisuke randomly pops out of nowhere. He’s like “ho i did not remember saying that i wasn’t coming” and she’s like “im sorrryyy” and both me and him are like “just find the dang kid”

ok yea they find eito, he starts being a good student, and u start to see where he starts being antagonistic towards his dad LOL etc. etc. lol this story annoyed me so i don’t feel like doing the rest of the play by play orz

anyway thanks for reading my garbage LOL

[superspookywombat]

Falling {j.h} chapter three

Warnings: poorly written description of drowning?? That’s about it, unless you count Bella and Edward being them awkward selves

Taglist: sleepy-whore geekysimmerthings mauvette268 treestarrrrrrrr kaleigh404 krazykatkay456 meganlikesfandoms darknacademia hi-my-name-is-riley vdtwsupernatural selmeuuh raindancer2004 wondersandtempests royale-trash-slytherin im-hella-bright bootylimpics livfg it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes

Fire spreading through your lungs forced you to snap your eyes open. All you saw was darkness. Coldness numbs your fingertips, a chill vibrating down your spine. You were suspended in a thick liquid, and instincts kicked in telling you to propel yourself to the surface. You stretch your arms out, but as you kick forward a sharp force yanks you back to where you started. Something teathers your right hand to the bottom of wherever you are. Opening your mouth to scream, metallic tasting thickness invades your tastebuds. It shoves itself down your throat, causing a squeezing feeling in your lungs. You know you need to breathe, but you can’t. You try to feel around for something- anything- that might help you escape. All that your fingers and toes feel is smoothness. A sudden wave of lightheadedness hits you, and the urge to breathe comes back stronger. A cough bubbles up from your throat and your mouth opens, you inhale, and you feel yourself suffocating. Your free hand flies to your throat, trying to physically make yourself stop trying to breathe. But eventually your brain realizes it's not going to get any more oxygen, and your body convulses once, twice, then three times. And then you’re gone. 

You jolt upright in an unfamiliar bed. Your hand reaches for your throat, mouth open and gasping for air. Your heartbeat races, seemingly about to jump right out of your chest. Slowly, you release your throat, sure that the threat is gone. Your hands fall to a soft blanket, and you realize your surroundings- Bella’s room. You squint your eyes and make out Bella laying in her bed, covered in a thick blanket. Beads of sweat roll down your neck, but you still shiver. The alarm clock on the nightstand next to Bella claims that it’s 5:43, about an hour before it was set to go off. Today was your first day of school, so you figured that you’d get a headstart and take a shower. 

Steam exposes itself as a thick fog, curling under the crack of the door that sheltered you from the cold world outside in the hallway. As the water drips down the small of your back, you tap your shaving razor against the cool tile to unclog the hair collected between it’s sharp teeth. Your armpits were shaved, so were your legs. You were almost out of things to shave. Almost.

After 45 minutes you figured that you needed to leave some hot water, or else you’d have to face the wrath of your sister, who desperately needed a shower in the morning to wake herself up. Rummaging through your half-unpacked suitcase, you glanced at Bella’s bed to make sure she was still knocked out. She was, as you expected. Grabbing onto a pair of embarrassingly bright pink underwear, some black leggings, and a bra, you walk back into the sweltering bathroom. After dressing- except for a shirt and socks- you walk back into the bedroom just as the alarm goes off. You flinch, glancing at the lump of blankets occupying Bella’s bed. It moves, a pale, feminine arm reaching out to slap the alarm clock. 

“I can wake you up later so you can sleep in a bit more, if you’d like.” You offer, hoping to get on her good side. She sits up, a small yawn escaping her mouth. She runs her hand through her hair, then shakes her head. 

“We’re leaving in ten.” She says. Taken aback by her excitement for school, you sit on your bed for a moment before reaching to grab a wrinkled t-shirt out of your bag. You put on some deodorant before pulling the (f/c) shirt over your still damp head. After slipping on socks and combing your fingers through your hair, you go downstairs. Bella stands by the front door, a granola bar hanging out of the corner of her mouth as she tries to slide on her boots while standing. You smile, then walk to the kitchen to grab some water and take painkillers for the headache invading your senses. Charlie is long gone, his cruiser pulling out of the driveway sometime after you got in the shower. You hear Bella shut the front door, then a sputtering cough of an old engine roars to life. That’s my cue. You exit the house- a safe space- and brace yourself to be exposed to hundreds of strangers in just a few minutes. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just as Bella had been, you were the talk of the town. The newest hot gossip in the small community of Forks. It was surprising when one twin returned, but when the second twin came two years after the first? What was the reasoning behind that? People could sense some family drama nonetheless. As Bella pulled into the parking lot, you could see that her whole demeanor changed. As if she was looking forward to something. Bella had always been the brains in your sistership, but she still disliked school as much as you did. After she pulled into a parking spot, she cut the engine quickly. As she reached for the door handle, you placed a hand on the center console. 

“Wait.” You say, causing her to glance over her shoulder at you. She shuts her door, settling back into her seat.

“We’re gonna be late.” She sighs.

“Just a minute, I swear.” You promise. She looks at you expectantly. “I know we’re not on the best terms right now, but I just need to know before going in there if you want to- I don’t know how to phrase this. Are we going to hang out and stuff during lunch.. And stuff?” 

She makes a face. “Sorry, I didn’t phrase that right. I just mean, am I gonna sit by you at lunch? I totally get it if you don’t want to, I know you have Edward and other friends and stuff and- you know what? Forget I said anything." 

“Relax, I’m not gonna throw you to the wolves.” She says, a mischievous glint in her eyes as if you were missing out on an inside joke.

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” You smile. She hops out of the truck, and you mirror her movements. She blushes as you both walk over to a tall, pale brunette. He smiles at Bella, and she bounds energetically over to him. He engulfs her in a hug and she tips her head up as they meet each other for a kiss. God, get a room. Something like a chuckle from Edward forces them apart, and Bella asks him something that you can’t make out. You walk over to them and raise an eyebrow.

“So you’re Dr. Cullen’s son?” You ask, but it comes out as more of a statement. He glances at Bella, then gives you a half crooked smirk. 

“That would be me.” He answers. His pale skin compliments his eyes, a deep caramel whiskey color. His teeth are a bright white. Everything about this guy- or more likely, Greek God- made you shrink into your own skin, feeling inferior and self conscious. It was as if he was carved from marble, as if someone had spent hours and days and months chipping away at him until he reached perfection. You held out a hand for him to shake, but as he reached out to respond, Bella placed her hand on his. 

“Um, remember about that cold you just got over? You’re probably still contagious.” She says softly, her eyes bearing into his, as if there was some sort of laser beam connecting their gaze. His mouth turns to a thin line for a split second, but then pulls back into a smile, and you'dve probably missed it if you weren’t already studying his face. 

“Thank you for reminding me, how could I forget?” He says, false humor in his voice. A loud bell rings, interrupting the awkward conversation. Thank God. Bella raises her eyebrows and stares at her feet.

“Well, um, can someone point me in the direction of the office?” You ask. Edward walks with you and Bella, them lost in their own conversation as you debated whether or not you really needed to complete high school. 

After receiving your schedule and getting directions to your first period class, you push open a door that says Ms. Garcia. First was English, and that was your best subject, so you were grateful you had it first thing in the morning to start your day right. As you entered the room, your stomach did flip flops. Suddenly your hair that was resting on your shoulders weighed one hundred tons and your feet felt like they were cured in blocks of concrete. Ms. Garcia’s voice stopped as soon as you entered, and it seemed that all eyes were on you.

“Hi, you must be Y/n.” An older woman with dark hair and caramel skin held out a ring-clad hand. You shook it, and the warmth of her skin only made you sweat more. Your heartbeat raced, and you could feel your shirt sticking to your lower back. Her voice sounded a million years away as she told you to take a seat next to a girl with dark hair. As you sat, she resumed teaching and you took the opportunity to scan the classroom. Everyone looked normal, just a bit paler than your peers in Phoenix. One boy stood out in particular, a mop of blond hair and pale, almost translucent, almost reflective skin, catching your eyes. He turned his head in that moment, returning your eye contact. A chill ran through you, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and your heart sped up. It was almost as if something deep down inside of you clicked, like a hole that you didn’t even know was there was stitched up by a golden thread. An overwhelming sense of tranquility washed over you and your heart slowed, you started breathing again, not that you ever noticed you stopped, and it felt like tiny little electric shocks traveled through your veins from your cheeks to the tips of your toes. Everything felt right. Everything was going to be okay. 

[axelkai]

welcome aboard, AXEL NICKOLAI BRAXTON, student #1. we are excited to set sail with you ! has anyone told you that you look like jeremy allen white? according to our records, you hail from new york, usa, he/his, are male, and are here to study digital art. we also see you received a spot on the ss university because of your money — we won’t tell anyone. during your first few weeks here, other students said you were + fun loving, + social, but also - impulsive. it sounds like you spend most of your time at the sandbar. upon checking your luggage, we noticed you packed a sketch book brought from home. hopefully your roommates don’t steal it!

hello, buds, this is Lella, 23y, she/her, gmt-3. this is my new baby and i’m prob going to take a while before start fixing the theme. a basic nav is already up, though. under the read more you’ll see more info about him. im stilll working in his bio though, as I manage his family/bg story so it will be fitting! 

[[ BASIC INFO ]]

Nickname(s): Ax, Kai (friends), Nick (family).

Age: 25

Date of Birth: -

Orientation: he swears he is straight but he is actually homoflexible

Language(s) Spoken: english, spanish

[[ PHYSICAL ]]

Height: 1,71m / 5′7′’

Weight: 80kg / 176lbs

Faceclaim: Jeremy Allen White

Hair color: dark blonde

Eye color: blue

Tattoos: an eagle on his chest, an anchor on the left side of his neck +

[[ PATTERNS  ]]

Drug Use: marijuana counts?

Alcohol Use: not a weekend goes by without a drink.

Dreams: to have an art gallery of his own.

Fears: feeling trapped +

Hobbies: painting, drawing, cooking (though few know about this last one).

Habits: swearing, drinking coffee while working, hugging a pillow while sleeping, keeping wardrobe neat, having a irregular sleep schedule, driving waaaay too fast, falling asleep while watching tv, bullying people, being a destructive mess when pushed 

[[ PERSONALITY ]]

Positive Traits: fun loving, social, imaginative, adventurous, generous, romantic, caring

Negative Traits: impulsive, quick tempered, stubborn, rude +

MBTI: enfp - the campaiger                        78%  extroverted / introverted 22%                          62% intuitive / observant 38%                              48% thinking / feeling 52%                            29% judging / prospecting 71%                            51% assertive / turbulent 49% 

Enneagram: the enthusiast.

Temperament: sanguine

Moral Alignment: true neutral

Primary Vice: wrath

Primary Virtue: diligence

Element: fire w a few traits of water

[[ BIO / sketch ]] 

at school, Kai was not the best student; he never got interested in regular school subjects. would often skip classes and get in trouble, argue with a teacher he disagreed with, fight students he found annoying; his parents would get so frustrated every time they had to show up to meetings. 

not the brightest one; but not that he wasn’t smart, he just wasn’t compromised with whatever he didn’t feel interested in. on the other hand, he was good at skating and drawing. and his maquettes were the best of his classes.

eventually, after a particularly aggressive episode, when they placed him to meet a school’s counselor, they initially found it to be a disaster; he’d curse and bite the counselor, utterly angry because people thought they knew what was best for him— adults were not understanding.

but, you see, eventually, after some bribery with candy and cool games, he grew to put up with it. and, he would never admit it, but after letting the counselor a little bit in, here and then, he'd hear useful things that made his daily life way easier. 

as a teenager, Kai was better at controlling his aggressiveness. turned out that he was just really bad at handling frustration. but, well, if his aggressive impulses weren't that much of a problem anymore........ his partying days grew to be. getting out late, getting home early in the morning.

Kai would get home high or drunk every weekend, and his parents certainly weren't fond of it. though, as a playful kid, he'd get his way around their disappointment. not that he wouldn't feel bad at the way he just couldn't meet their expectations, he was only human after all.

he was still underage when he started making money out of his drawings and painting — and, well, eventually, even digital art. his parents got less worried about his future at seeing the money coming in. Kai didn't initially have big ambitions, professional or academic, but if he kept going he had a professional area he could make money from.

he got away from home at the age of 18; even though his parents were sort of caring ones, their frustrated expectations over his academic lack of interest were discouraging to deal with. he got himself into a cheap apartment, but near some friends of his, and got away just fine with life.

[...]

everything was cool until he figured his party buddy Cass would try and join ss. and so would his sister. he decided to tag along.... not with any intention with getting grades higher than mediocre, just to know more about the world and live this crazy experience. to be honest, he never thought he’d actually be draw in that online lottery thing....

some connection ideas while i dont get my wc list ready:

- someone that axel has bullied or bullies

- someone (female) he is currently dating (be aware tho that he is a closeted guy)

- someone for him to be a bad influence on

- someone to be a good influence on him

- partners in crime 

- party buddies

- an artist he admires the work of 

- someone that admires his work

[for-ests]

Hey, not sure if you do smut but I think this request can work without a lot if you’d prefer😁 reader’s an art student and needs to sculpt a full body nude sculpture and Tom offers but gets a bit cheeky

thanks for the request dear! this was fun to write :-) i literally know nothing about art so if I get something wrong just ignore! i hope you enjoy!! i went a diff +route but I still think it fits! [ mlist ] 

Word count: 3, 273

Warnings: slight nsfw,, nudity 

Pairing: Tom Holland x art student reader!

“The issue is… I have no idea who to ask.” You sighed deeply, embarrassment washing over you as you talked to your best friends about your upcoming project. 

Everyone knew you were a talented sculptor. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that your professional sculpting internship at (your school) was currently learning about Ancient Greece. One of the requirements to pass the semester was to recreate a modern sculpture of someone you knew, and to make it as realistic as possible. Nakedness and all, which was a huge distinction of Greek statues.

There was a big problem though. You were incredibly shy, and you didn’t know who to ask to model for you.

Nudging you with a laugh, your friend flashed you a mischievous smile. “You know a lot of cute guys, why don’t you ask one of them?”

“Cute guys?” You scrunched your nose. “I know like three guys and I would cry if I had to see them naked.”

She sighed. “Fair. Does it have to be a guy?”

*-You nodded regretfully. “It has to be the opposite sex. It’s annoying but I u

erstand why. It’s important to be familiar with both sexes.”

Your best friend air quoted ‘familiar’ with a ridiculous smirk.

“Shut up.” You huffed, trying not to laugh at how dramatic she had become.

“I think I know a guy, he’s an aspiring actor and model.” Your best friend added casually.

Groaning, you shot her a glare. “Why didn’t you say that right away?”

She shrugged. “I like listening to you talk about your art.”

Her compliment almost worked, but you already knew that was partly the reason she was teasing you so hard. The other reason was because she had been trying to set you up with multiple friends for months. According to her, you had been single for far too long.

Her offer made you ponder deeper about your situation. You were slightly awkward when it came to getting to know someone, but you couldn’t imagine asking someone to strip right away so you could sculpt every curve your eyes grazed over. Whoever it ended up being had to be incredibly confident. Shallow yes, but that’s why you were hoping to find someone insanely attractive. Attractive people were usually confident, and responsibly so. “Maybe a stranger would be worse than someone I know.”

Snorting through her nose, your best friend stared at you like you were crazy. “Definitely not. If it’s awkward you never have to see him again. And if it’s not, well you can get cozy with a cutie.”

Taking a deep breath, you rolled your eyes. “I hate you sometimes.” You mumbled under your breath. You knew she was right, but you would never inflate her already enormous ego like that.

“You love me.” She sang sweetly.

“I do, now give him my number and tell him it’s of the utmost importance.”

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Days later, that conversation was on your mind as you nervously organized your sculpting tools. Trying to relieve some tension, you slapped a pound of clay against the table, and it echoed throughout the workshop.

Reality was the fact that this so called model boy was on his way to your studio. His name was Tom, and from the pictures you saw–he was incredibly handsome.

You couldn’t believe you had agreed to this, but alas, you needed this experience to pass your class. You just hoped and prayed that Tom was a lot more outgoing than you, and could keep the conversation flowing as you stared intently as his erect… penis.

Your cheeks flared up at the thought. How the hell were you going to do this?

Y/N: help (Y/B/F/N) I cant do this!!! im freaking out

Y/B/F: is he even there yet? lmfao

Y/N: noooooo :((

Y/B/F: if it makes you feel any better, he’s excited and thinks ur pretty

Y/N: why didn’t you tell me that before??!

Y/B/F: do u feel better now tho?

Y/N: no

Y/B/F: ik ur smiling ;) u aint slick

Giggling like a schoolgirl to relieve some of your anxiety, you set your cell phone on the table. Truthfully, your best friend had made you feel better. If anything bad happened, it would surely be a wonderful story to tell everyone in the future.

Your eyes naturally glanced across the room to the clock on the wall. 7:00pm. Tom would be here any minute as scheduled.

You took a deep breath and studied your surroundings. All your tools were in place, and the entire studio was tidied up as if you hadn’t worked the space in weeks. Next, you walked to the wall and glanced at your reflection in the mirror.

With your hair in a bun and your shabby working clothes, you looked suitable at best. You did have a little bit of makeup on to help yourself feel more confident. If you felt good, you could make your client feel good in return.

At least it looked like you didn’t try too hard. You didn’t want this man to get the wrong idea.

Then, snapping you out of your trance, there was a knock on the door.

You straightened out your shirt one last time, and tucked your baby hairs back behind your ears. Scoffing immediately after, you shook your head. Why were you trying to look cute? Who cares!

You rushed to grab the front door, afraid that you were making him wait too long. You flung it open, eyes locking with his right away.

You froze.

He was even more dashing in person.

“Judging by your cute outfit, I think I’m at the right place. Y/N right?”

And a British accent?

“Y-yes!” You flashed a smile to mask your obvious hesitation. You could easily play it off by opening the door and keeping your gaze averted. You were the master of smoothness.

“Thank you for coming, it’s about time I got this project done…” You tittered, locking the door behind him for privacy purposes. “You can set your things on the couch over there.” You pointed, eyes meeting his again when he glanced to the couch and then back to you.

“Awesome.” He nodded, holding your gaze for a moment longer than necessary.

“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” You offered, nodding your head back to the small kitchen in the back of the studio. You wished the studio apartment was yours alone, but you shared it with multiple other college students in your program.

“Water… or beer if you have any?”

You threw your head back in laughter, causing Tom to smile at your genuine reaction.

“Yeah, I can get you one.”

“In the meantime, should I just strip?” He smirked, not trying to be sly with his flirtations. Though your cheeks were dusting with pink, you were able to match his energy. Your best friend definitely set you up with someone she knew you’d like.

“Do whatever you want, love.” You mimicked his British accent. “You’re the guest after all.”

Walking past him, you gave him one last look when he was fully-clothed. Tom was certainly the player type, practically the perfect embodiment of the muse you had in mind. This wouldn’t be awkward for you, and it would be even better for him. Men like him thrived off of cheeky discomfort in their female counterparts.

Yet, truthfully, you were enjoying it as well. It felt nice to be complimented so soon into an introduction.

As you cracked open a can of beer for Tom and yourself, you could hear him shuffling around with his items. The sound of his buckle falling against the floor made you suddenly nervous to turn around.

Inhaling sharply, and gulping down a few more sips of beer, you finally gained the courage to walk back to the studio setup, where Tom had already wandered over to, completely naked.

“You seem to be in your element.” You noted, trying to keep your eyes leveled with his. Now that you were thinking about it, remaining calm and professional was excruciating in front of such an attractive man. And it certainly wasn’t helping that he was enjoying your embarrassment.

And least this was exciting.

Thanking you, Tom took the beer and pressed his lips against the cold aluminum. “I would definitely feel a lot more comfortable if you were naked too, darling.”

“Hey now,” You nose scrunched in a form of mock distaste. The man caught on immediately, holding your gaze with a sort of amusement that was masking desire. “I might think about it if you sit nice and pretty for me for more than five minutes so I can sketch you.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you walked over to your crafting desk. You decided you were going to start with the hardest part, the part which your grade depended heavily on- from the waist down.

But first, you quickly sketched Tom posing in multiple poses until you were satisfied with one. You had him mimic a sculpture you couldn’t recall, where one hand was pointed forward and the other was rested casually on his hip.

“Can I see what one you want to do?” He asked curiously from the stand you had him propped up on for a better view.

“Sure.” You flashed him your finished sketch. The lines darted all over the page, making it hard for him to picture what was going on in your head. The picture you had drawn would not make sense to anyone else but the artist. But apparently you were talented, so he would trust the process.

You were also trusting the process. The situation you were in could only be awkward if you allowed it to be. And so far it was moving along smoothly. You had your favorite music playing softly in the background to fill the silence, and Tom seemed to be relaxed and unbothered by how quietly you worked.

“That’s cool.” Tom whispered, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

Giggling from his sudden proximity, you tried to tease him. “It’s fine to not understand it.”

“I definitely don’t know what’s going on but it’s still interesting.” He admitted.

You set the paper back down on the table, and decided to attempt and sculpt the base. Moving past a still naked Tom, you tried to immerse yourself in your work, or at least make it seem like you were focused. “This takes hours you know, weeks and months- it won’t make sense for a long time.”

“Perfect.” He grinned. “I’ll get plenty of time to know you better.”

Laughing through your nose, you kept your attention on the clay you had dropped on the floor. “You can put your clothes back on.”

“Oh!” He chuckled. “Yeah.”

As you carefully trimmed the base clay with a heavy frame, you lifted your head to find Tom slipping a robe back on. He definitely came prepared. Had he done this before?

“Come here.” You gestured. “I need you to set your feet down on the clay.”

“I didn’t think this would get dirty so fast.”

“Shut up.” You huffed, grabbing his foot and pressing it down hard until the clay took shape to the size.

“Cold.” Tom commented in discomfort.

“I know.” You released your grip on his calf, looking up at him with a sheepish smile. “All part of the process, but good news for you- you’re done for the night.”

“Really?” Tom raised his eyebrows. “That’s it?”

You nodded, standing back up to normal height. “I’m experienced enough to sculpt the feet and legs tonight.”

“When should I come back?” He sounded a tad too eager, but it caused your smile to reappear.

“Tomorrow night if you’re available.”

“And maybe next time you can bring your own alcohol?” You gestured to the multiple beer cans poking out of the recycling bin.

The man flashed you a smile. “Sounds like a date.”

“It’s definitely not.”

Despite your rejection to his amusing advances, Tom’s expressions and mannerisms remained hopeful. Was it possible he was truly enjoying himself?

“I’ll leave my robe here. I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time?”

“Same time.” You confirmed, nodding him off. It was about time you started to really focus. Attractive man or not, you always got the most and best work done alone.

Because after the first night, the dynamics between you and Tom changed. He became incredibly invested in your process, asking you questions left and right, asking if there was any way he could help, and practically just lounging next to you hours after he would have been free to go.

“What do your sculptures usually look like?”

“Since this isn’t my own studio, I don’t have any of my pieces here. But I can show you a picture when I get my hands wiped off.”

“What do you build your sculptures with? It’s hard to imagine that a replica of me can come out of that much clay.”

“My sculptures are built with water-based clay and are fired in a gas kiln to cone 4, about 2150 degrees Fahrenheit… “ You nodded towards the back wall that had an installed kiln for you and everyone to share. “Trust me, there will be a lot more clay. Hundreds of pounds worth.”

“Can I help?”

“No.”

There was no lying that you enjoyed his presence. Whether he was talking your ear off or napping to the peaceful beat of your jazz music, there was never a dull moment when Tom was in your studio.

Weeks passed, and so did the process. Your sculpture of Tom had progressed to week three, and that’s when you started to grow nervous. When you finished, which you were almost done, would you ever see him again?

You had barreled through the awkwardness of replicating his genitals and chiseling his six pack perfectly into the hardening clay- but you still felt like something was missing. You knew even when you finished chiseling away his jaw line and chocolate brown eyes, there would still be something missing. Him. His presence.

Maybe it would have been better if you partnered up with a man that had zero personality.

Since it was just you and Tom for hours on end, your conversations gradually grew deeper, they stretched into new lengths, so much so that you eventually felt like you had known him for years.

When Tom claimed he wasn’t looking for a relationship, you felt your heart fall. That’s when you realized you were developing stronger feelings for your model. You hardly had time to think about trivial things like that, but you couldn’t deny your disappointment.

And you were sure he saw the brief tears glossing over your eyes when you turned away. Yet, he didn’t make light of it.

That’s when you knew it was useless.

It seemed useless until the sixth week, when you finally finished the head. You were too afraid to attach it. Tom had spent the last couple hours with you in the studio. His legs kicked back and occasional whistles streaming from his lips. He had practically memorized your playlist to the extent you had.

“Tom.” You called. “Your face is done.”

He cheered excitedly, pushing himself off the sofa and racing towards you. Tom had learned to give you your space while you worked, but in moments where you summoned him, he barely stood inches from you. The man would constantly touch you in ways you couldn’t deny sent shivers down your spine.

Like he did as he rounded the tabletop, planting himself by your side and placing his hand on the low of your back. As if it was natural.

“Wow,” He breathed. “Y/N,” Your name upon his lips sounded as blissful as the music. “It’s.. it’s wonderful. It looks just like me... wow that’s scary.”

“I’m happy you like it.” You bit your lip, wishing you felt more satisfied with your project. You wanted to impress him, but you didn’t want him to go.

“All I have to do is attach the head, and fire it up in the furnace one more time. Then it should be good to go.”

You moved to do so, wanting to remove yourself from his grip. It hurt your heart to know the bond you had formed with him would come to an end. Why did you even let yourself get to this point? Was it because he was good at flirting?

“Wait-” His sentence faltered when you whipped around to face him- looking somewhat hopeful.

“What?”

Tom paused, his throat tightening with the words he never thought he would admit. But he couldn’t leave tonight with at least trying. He needed to know how you felt. Because he could either leave with you in his arms, or he could leave never having to see you again.

He had been thinking of confessing to you for days now, but now that the time came, his mind was blank. “You really are beautiful, you know that right?”

“Why do you feel the need to flatter me?” You blurted, still unable to decipher the truth behind his words. You didn’t know how to accept such a compliment. Tom had claimed you were beautiful before, but this time it felt different.

His eyes spoke volumes. The beauty his eyes held was something you would never be able to replicate in a statue. It was a sight you found yourself never growing sick of.

Averting your eyes, you tried to move again. Yet this time, Tom gripped onto both of your arms.

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I won’t let you play me.”

“I was never playing you, darling.” The tenderheartedness intertwined with his words caused you to slowly turn your head back. Your lip quivered, and suddenly you felt like a schoolgirl all over again. You felt childish and unprepared for the intensity of your emotions.

“I don’t want to leave tonight without knowing if you feel the same.”

You blinked, hand reaching out to grip onto his. “And that is?” 

“I don’t know if it’s love, but it could be.” 

“That’s all I needed to hear.” You said, incredibly softly. 

Tom released your arms. And before either of you could process what to do next, your lips interlocked. 

You gripped onto him tightly, balling his white t shirt into a fist to keep him from leaving your side again. 

“Tom-” You breathed. 

The kiss you shared was laced with a fervent need, one that you had never experienced before, and one that you craved again and again. 

After the passion you felt, the skin prickling desire, there would be no turning back. 

“Fuck, you’re everything”’ He mumbled against your lips. 

You pulled back slightly to gaze at his expression. He had looked so afraid before, but now he was smiling from ear to ear. Much like he did the day he arrived with a teasing attitude, ready to get under your skin and provide entertainment. 

“How long have you felt like this?” 

“Since the first day.” He kissed you again, his hands cupping your cheeks. 

You whimpered against his muscular frame, trying to ignore the fluttering in your core, fluttering that begged and craved for more. 

“How did you wait so long?” 

“I wanted you to finish.” 

You chuckled, cheesing at his straightforward, simple reply. 

You were positive from that moment moving on, that Tom was not what you had thought at first glance. This entire time he had put you and your project first, letting his own desires sit and warm on the back-burner. That was something you would hold close to your heart, something you would cherish. 

He cared for you in the same way you cared for him. 

“Stay with me tonight, Tom.” 

“I would love nothing more.” 

[rigelmejo]

march 3/15/2021

im trying to read through tae kim’s grammar guide right now because i’m officially further in the nukemarine LLJ  memrise decks (there’s tae kim grammar guide sections in there) than i am in actually reading the grammar guide. And obviously these example sentences in the memrise deck would teach me more if i CLEARLY understood why they’re like how they are. which i... need to read the grammar guide section to understand lol.

my goal rn with japanese is? to get further in the nukemarine LLJ decks than i did last time. I’ve already mildly accomplished that (have done officially MORE of the tae kim section than before, have NOT redone the 190 common words i did last time i did this though). there are about 400 more cards in this tae kim section (LLJ 4) and then 1000ish cards in the common word section (LLJ 5). I would love to get them done. 

it would be sweet if i could get them done before April 22?/24? whenever Nier Replicant comes out because then I could play that baby in english and japanese! Then Nier Automata! ToT The Entire thing that kicked me back into wanting to study japanese was my old love for certain video games and desperately wanting to know what their stories/characters are like before translation/localization. So it would be cool if I could play them a little ;-; or at least check out lets plays. 

(which, checking out the kh2 lets play has been going pretty well so far... also that part where namine says “we aren’t meant to exist” and roxas says “how could you say such a thing? even if it were true” he says in japanese like “thats brutal/harsh to say. even if its true.” ...great to know that line is equally raw and heartbreaking in japanese lol. KH2′s localization did real good on like equal vibe to original just like ‘less nuanced’ if that makes sense. also thanks to the chinese hanzi i know now watching the KH2 lets play means i can figure out a lot of noun’s writing even though i don’t catch the pronunciation... also i’m catching a lot of words that mean like ‘beautiful/good’ as in like ‘great move’ and ‘dang’ lol.)

i had to stop myself from redoing the chinese flashcards i’ve done in the past! because i get ‘into a zone’ lol. And i really don’t need to waste time redoing those 2000 cards. i also needed to stop myself from doing the hsk 5-6 cards. because realistically? i know half of them, i should just set a lot to ‘ignore’ on the computer but im too lazy, and i’m learning a lot of vocab from reading right now. i don’t need hsk words to pass any test. The words i’m learning right now in reading are a lot more applicable to the actual shows i watch/things i listen to/things i read. its more useful to me to keep reading. and also to not sidetrack my japanese lol. i have read... 39 chapters this month... this month is only half over! hanshe is truly motivating ToT it also helps the story CONSTANTLY ends on cliffhangers so i keep clicking next chapter. who knows, maybe hanshe will help me kick up my reading speed. it already shaved off 10 minutes per 20 pages - now my 20 pages are down to 30 minutes to read, which is better than a few months ago. hanshe has 155 chapters so i HOPE it speeds up my reading lol.

hanshe is increasing my vocab though, its definitely noticeable over time. and hanshe has really good repetition of vocab which helps with learning and later the payoff means i never have to look up the word in future once its learned while it remains useful to me and i keep being reminded of it. after i get bored of hanshe OR i finish it, whichever comes first, its either back to a priest novel or into another pingxie fanfic written by hanshe’s author. The author did one fanfic that’s only 33 chapters so that would be NICE to do after this one lol ToT

summary of what’s turned out to be my studying methods this month:

Japanese:

reading through grammar guides (the one yue-muffin made and tae kim’s). so just grammar explanation reading.

doing nukemarine LLJ decks (in the ACTUAL order they are in the deck to completion - last time i did like 3 per time and never finished any lol. this is bolded because it’s the primary activity i’m prioritizing). so SRS flashcards. it’s working well right now because i can just put this activity in anytime i have downtime, like when i pause shows (since we know me i gotta take a break from a show every 20 minutes lol). i am bafflingly in a flashcard mood and i’m trying to take advantage of it while i got it. 

*when i feel like it: watching kh2 lets play. so some immersion where i look up words. (and when Nier Replicant remaster releases next month I’m likely to at least a tiny bit try to play it in japanese ToT lol we’ll see)

so grammar reading, srs flashcards covering some grammar/listening/reading/vocab, and some optional immersion.

(a note: i gave up on the japaneseaudiolessons for now because i got bored. its a great resource! i just don’t feel like it right now. and from an efficiency perspective, nukemarine LLJ decks cover vocab, grammar, audio, reading - so I don’t need another resource for that right now).

Chinese:

reading through hanshe. so immersion reading, intensive reading looking up unknown words. (unknown words are happening less so its getting less ‘intense’ lol)

listening to Chinese Spoonfed Audio. so listening to audio flashcards. for building up listening comprehension/repetition to pick up some more common words. (i’ve been doing this during daily walks making it much easier for me to consistently do, doing it mainly to supplement the Reading Heavy study i’m doing, i can drop this and pick it up later if i want since its mostly easy background listening)

*I am slowly rereading the grammar guide on www.chinese-grammar.com for explicit grammar clarification. but this is not a high priority, since I sort of implicitly understand a lot of this and i’m not working on fixing production mistakes yet. i just... miss knowing wtf is going on in the grammar lol.

*when i feel like it: Listening Reading The Glass Maiden/Love and Redemption Novel. I’ve done 2-3 hours of it this past week, but i don’t know when or if I’ll just stop. Thankfully l-r is beneficial somewhat even if i switch up books later. i WANT to L-R you have no idea (to Silent Reading and Guardian REALLY badly lol). But its so time intensive, and requires a lot of focus, and i have to really plan to do it for an hour at a time usually. I am so bad at doing stuff for that long consistently. I was in the mood earlier this week! ToT 

*when i feel like it: watching chinese shows raw. I was super in the mood this month because Word of Honor came out, and Killer and Healer came out, and Rattan came out, and I didn’t want to wait for subs. As a result I watched a LOT of raw episodes this month. However, english subs have caught up and since I’m lazy I’m inclined to just watch the subs - especially since youku ITSELF just put english subs on their most-ahead viewing schedule version of the eps on youku vip. so guess who’s buying youuku vip today? -3-)/ That said... even if I stop for a while, if Rattan subs move too slow I’ll probably watch those raw. And as SOON as 2ha’s drama Immortality drops I am highly likely to watch the raws for that since I likely won’t be able to wait. Watching shows is pretty highly dependent on how much I want to watch something and if subs take a while lol. 

so reading, and listening. and a little listening-reading method too. mainly just working on reading, listening, vocab acquisition. chinese is going good - for a few months now i’ve just had the plan ‘read often while looking up unknown words, and add some listening study activity when i have time.’ It’s simple, and its been working well.  later on down the road i’ll need some explicit grammar clarification again, but this is bare bones enough of a study plan at the moment. i’m clearly picking up words and phrases and hanzi at a reasonable pace. its not the Fastest obviously, but it is causing improvement over time and since i’m enjoying it i see no reason to change it up.

ending things

...who knows WHY i am so well focused this month with so much energy... tbh... i track how many chapters i read a month/audio i listen to/show episodes i watch etc, and this month is like as much as 3 other of my usual months combined. also my japanese has been basically ‘dabbling only’ prior to this month.

 although... maybe in part its how i’ve gotten better at reading hanshe? Reading being easier certainly motivates me TO read more. And watching shows was MUCH easier this month (still not ‘easy’ but following the main plot is) which definitely makes me Want to watch more. Also i am... unbelievably motivated by a challenge. I think i got it in my head that i ‘really want to do more of Nukemarine’s LLJ courses and see how much i understand after them’ and now... i really want them DONE. so maybe the current things motivating me will hold out for a while. 

(On the listening-reading front meanwhile, that activity takes SO much concentration its hard to do if i’m tired, BUT i have so many TRANSLATED novels i want to read recently and honestly its fun hearing the chinese narration and audiobook actors so like... i very much Want to do l-r so i can hear them as i read the translation... immovable object of me tired versus how much i’m interested in them lol ToT).

also thank u thank u @a-whump-muffin for sending me those lets plays because honestly it got me so excited again and its so cool to see them!!! <3 <3 and its so much easier to watch them versus committing to playing a whole game myself just yet ToT 

[chaoticdazefire-new]

Morning guys! Today I'm finally getring back to posting my It Lives fics. (Sorry for the delay) Im posting 2 parts today since the first one is kind of short and its been a while. In todays chapter, its the morning after you and your friends performed the ritual that finally brought Noah back, and you just get a call with a new lead on stopping the Power. But before you go to get some answers, you take the time to catch up with an old friend. You can go to part 16 here. @it-lives-in-westchester @anxietyismyspiritanimal @ouleye I hope y'all enjoy it!

    The following morning, you rub your eyes wearily as the suns rays shine through your window and hit your face. You check your phone to see it's only 8:30 and groan. Given you only got roughly four hours of sleep last night, you're not ready to greet the outside world just yet. Just then, Luna stretches at the foot of your bed and walks up to you, gently headbutting your arm and purring. You scratch her head for a few minutes until you're interrupted by a phone call from Connor.

     You answer the phone still half asleep. "Hello?"

     "Woah, sorry, did I wake you up?" He asks. You chuckle a little bit and sigh. "No, I actually just woke up. What's up?"

     You can hear muffled voices in the background, one sounding like Jocelyns. "I'm pulling a shift at the hardware store right now, but Joss just came in here with some pretty solid information about the um... Situation."

     "Really?" You ask, "like what?"

     "She said she found-" Connor suddenly stops mid sentence and you can hear the phone drop, and in the distance you can hear Connor yell "put that back Joss it's just a display!" You pinch the bridge of your nose, and after a minute of more muffled talking, Connor picks the phone back up.

     "Heh, sorry about that."

     "Are you sure Jocelyn is the one who found actual information?" 

     You hear Connor give a small chuckle over the phone. "I'm sure. It's pretty busy here today, so maybe it's best if you just come here."

     You flop your head back down on your pillow and scoff. "But I don't want to get up yet."

     "Well, when you are ready to get up, you know where we'll be."

     "Yeah yeah, I'll be there soon."

     You hang up the phone and lay down a little longer, cherishing the comfort of your bed before getting up and running around for the rest of the day.

     Before leaving, you make sure to take care of Luna, then head to the shed to check on Russel. As you step into the backyard, you take a long look at how destroyed it is. Branches from your tree have been broken off and scattered throughout your yard, dirt has been picked up and tossed around, not to mention the tire tracks in the grass leading up from your driveway to the tree where Connor slammed the vine bear.

     Well, this is a mess.

     Surprisingly, despite a few cracks and loosened boards, your shed still remained intact. You step inside and spot Russel nestled up in his nest, easily startled at the sound of the door creaking open. He puffs his feathers and caws, but once he realizes its you, he giddily jumps up and hops along the table as you approach.

     "Looks like someone is happy to see me." You hold out your arm and he quickly leaps onto it, cawing with excitment. You gently stroke the feathers along his wings for a moment, until he suddenly puffs up and caws aggressively at the door. You feel your heart race as you carefully set him back in his nest, not taking your eyes off the door. You grab your bat and grip it tightly as you slowly approach the door.

     You take a deep breath and place your foot between the door and the frame, then YANK it open! You charge out of the shed with your bat held high ready to swing- but no one is there. You look around skeptically but see no one around, and slowly lower your bat. You look back at Russel, who is still cawing from his nest, and then you hear a strange sound coming from your pond. You raise your bat once more and begin to cautiously advance towards the pond.

     As you slowly approach the pond, you can see a torrent of bubbles shooting to the top of the water, and you feel your heart pounding in your ears. You can feel your legs begin to go numb as you are only a few feet away, but you keep on moving.

     Then, as you finally stand right before the pond, the bubbles disappear in an instant. Bewildered, you cautiously look into the water and only see your reflection. Just as you are about to look away, you spot a face appear right behind you in your reflection. A face that you've only seen in a drawing you discovered at Coras: Redfield.

     Immediately, you spin around and swing your bat as hard as you can, and see the figure just dodge it by a mere inch, their long brown hair brushing in the wind. "Hey!-"

    "Noah?!" You drop your bat and feel your entire body shake as your heart drops like an anchor at the sight of him, relief washing over you. "Jeez, you want me gone again that bad already?" He asks, his arms still covering his face like a shield.

     You roll your eyes and he grins. A small smile tugs at the corner of your mouth and you pull him into hug. After hesitating for a split second, he wraps his arms around you as well. "What are you doing here Noah?" You ask, still locked into a hug. "Trying to get my head taken off apparently."

     "No, seriously," you say strictly as you pull away. "It's not even 9 o'clock yet, how did you even know I was in the backyard?" He shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. "Well, I knocked on your door first but you didn't answer. Then I heard your bird in there making all sorts of noise, so I figured I'd come out back to see if you were out here. And then you tried Lucilling me."

     You can't help but shake your head and laugh. "You scared the hell out of me. I thought you were-" you cut yourself off, thinking back to the face in the water. He raises an eyebrow at you as you remain silent. "Thought I was... what?" You shake the thought off and look back at him. "I thought you were something else."

     He looks at you, eyes wide. "Something that involved using that?" He points to your bat lying by your feet, and you pick it up. "I...I just thought it was something from the woods."

     "Hey, look around." He scans your entire yard with his hand and looks back at you. "There's nothing here now. Its just us." You look around yourself without seeing a hint of anything suspicious. "Yeah, you're right."

     But I know what I saw...

     You take a long skeptical look back at the pond, then turn back to him. "Connor actually called not too long ago. He said him and Jocelyn might have found something new about the Power but they're stuck at the hardware store. Want to take a walk there with me?"

     He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. "I might as well, since you clearly need a bodyguard." He grins as you playfully punch him in the arm. You set your bat back in the shed and you and Noah head out into town. But as you're walking away, you swear you can feel something watching you from the trees. Something that makes your blood run cold.

******

    The walk into town is long and quiet, giving you and Noah time to catch up.

     "So, how does it feel?" He looks at you with a raised eyebrow.  "How does what feel?" You lightly nudge him in the arm. "You know, to be back. To be you again."

     He looks down and stares at the ground as he walks, thinking before answering you. "I'm not sure how to feel about it honestly. For three years I was trapped as some shadow monster, now all of a sudden I'm back," he looks at his hands, studying them. "And it's like I never was that monster."

     You walk in silence for a minute as you take in his words, and think of how to respond. "I wouldn't necessarily say you were a monster." He looks at you as if baffled. "Then what was I?"

     You shrug your shoulders. "You were just... You. Just with a new look." He scoffs, but with the hint of a smile on his face. "And telekinetic powers? And the ability to go through walls? Not to mention a terrible speech problem."

     You both burst out into laughter, the first time you've seen him laugh in years. You can't help but stare at the smile on his face, the happiness he hasn't felt in so long, even if it's just for a moment.

     You look forward as you can just see the town in the distance. You look over to say something to him, but realize hes no longer walking next to you. You turn around to see he's stopped a little ways back, staring down a long street. You make your way back to him and follow his gaze, and you know exactly what he's looking at:

     His house.

     You look at his face and see the pained expression, the joy he had just felt disappeared, as if it were never there.

     "Do you... Want to go? And see her?" He doesn't speak, nor does he look at you, his entire focus still locked on his house. "Noah?" He shakes his head as if coming out of a trance, and looks at the ground. "No. I can't." He kicks a pebble by his feet and watches it skip into the grass. "I'm not ready for that. Not yet. And I don't think she is either. Not after thinking I've been dead this whole time."

     You put a hand on his back and rub it soothingly. "Hey, there's no rush. You've been through so much. Just take it all one step at a time, okay?" He still doesn't meet your gaze, but nods his head.

     "Now come on, the town is just up ahead." He slowly starts walking with you, taking one last look at his street, guilt stricken across his face.

  When you finally reach town, you notice him looking all around, at all the people, all the buildings, even the birds flying above. "Enjoying the scenery I see?" You say jokingly. He gives a small smile, still looking around. "Just taking in what I've missed the past few years."

     You smile and look forward, and see the hardware store in the distance. You keep walking until he suddenly puts an arm in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

     "Hey-"

     "Do you have to be there right away?" He asks. "I'm not necessarily on a schedule, why?" He nods his head and you notice he's stopped you in front of the cafe you sat down at the day he followed you from school, where he told you the story about when Jane chased after him when he ran away as a kid.

     You look at him grinning from ear to hear as he meets your gaze. "It's been a long time since I've sat down and had a blueberry muffin." Rolling your eyes with a smile, you both walk inside.

     "Go ahead and find a place to sit, I'll get us something to eat." You look at him with a sarcastic smile. "You're treating both of us to blueberry muffins?" He smiles. "Technically, Dan is treating us." He pulls out a ten dollar bill from his pocket and walks in line as you find a seat by the window. After a few minutes, he sits in the chair across from you and hands you a muffin. You take small bites from it like a mouse while he scarfs his down.

     "So, you still never told me why you were at my house at 8:30 in the morning." He looks up at you with a mouth full of muffin, and holds up an index finger while he finishes eating.

     "I assumed you'd want to play 21 questions with me about everything, so I figured we might as well sit down somewhere and talk about it." He picks up whats left of his food and admires it before finishing it. "Plus, I really wanted a muffin."

     You raise a mischevious eyebrow at him and grin. "So, you wanted to take me out on a date is what I'm hearing?" As soon as the words leave your mouth, he nearly coughs on his food. "What? No! Nothing like that-"

     "Noah, I'm kidding."

     He eases up and sits back in his chair. "Oh, good." He looks out the window, his cheeks a shade pinker. You both sit in silence for a minute and he clears his throat. "So um, what do you want to know?" You gaze out the window, so many questions racing through your mind, deciding what to ask first.

"How much do you remember? From being like that?" He huffs and looks at you, "all of it." He looks out the window, watching as people walk by. "I remember floating through the woods night after night, day after day, just feeling lost. Like I had no idea who I was. I remember being alone for so long, just thinking to myself how much I deserved it." You look at him, pained as you take in his words, and then he looks at you, his eyes lighting up a little bit. "And I remember the day someone I thought hated me came barging right into those ruins calling my name like she had no fear." He smiles at you and you smile back.

"Well, I wouldn't say she hated you. But she did have a little fear running up in there." You go to take another bite of your muffin and you can still feel his eyes on you. You look back up at him to see his smile has faded. "What?"

"...Why?" He asks. You tilt your head at him. "Why what?"

"Why did you come for me that day? At all? After what I did?" He swallows hard, and you can see the guilt across his face.

"I had a dream. That you were at the ruins, begging me to come help you. You told me I could save you." He looks at you, confused. "So, a dream made you go out there, where I could have killed you for all you knew?" You shrug your shoulders at him. "I knew the risks I was taking."

He looks at you as if struck. "You were really willing to do that? Even after I-" You cut him off before he has time to finish. "It doesn't matter what you did or didn't do that night Noah. You didnt deserve what happened to you. I promised you before I wasn't going to pull away again, and I'm sorry it took me two years to keep that promise."

A small smile spreads across his face, and you smile back. After smiling at each other for what feels like too long, he clears his throat. "So um, we should probably get to the hardware store and see what Connor and Joss picked up."

     "Oh, right, of course." You wipe your mouths with a napkin and toss out your trash before heading out. But as you're heading out the door, you get a weird feeling in your gut.

     You look around the cafe and see everyone is paying no mind to you, yet you can't help but feel like someone- or something- is nearby, watching you.

[yoongisbars]

Samusil | myg | P R O L O G U E

summary: It was always known that you were the family disappointment. So naturally, you fled. With a looming school debt, alcoholic tendencies, and no luck whatsoever in keeping a job for more than a month, you were at your wits end until you finally cave into working at Bang-Lenzo. You’ve only ever heard horrors of the place and its manager. But maybe, just maybe, that office would become your safe haven.

pairing: myg x reader genre: strangers to lovers au | office!yoongi au | future angst? fluff?  word count: 7.5k tw: alcohol as coping mechanism, subjects that might hit close to home note:  inspired by The Office US, this is only a teaser, a taste, of a project im working on, i wont release anything besides this until its ready, so pls endure !! <3

        Life was a bitch to everyone, and ever since you flunked out of Business School, it’s proven you weren’t the exception. It was an already supersaturated field with bright minded, innovative entrepreneurs. And you? Realized halfway through that the business world wasn’t cut out for you. With an overwhelmingly expensive college debt for an unfinished degree that your parents refused to pay for, you became the official family disappointment. After two years of being done with their bullshit, you finally packed your stuff and moved as far away as possible, hoping to start anew in the small town of rural Yangpiji.

        Just because you had some level of education, didn’t mean it would get you quite far. It’s done the opposite, in fact. Jobs with higher wages frowned upon your incomplete studies, and jobs that didn’t give a fuck if you finished high school, didn’t pay enough to deal with their idiocies or take care of the bills for that matter. One heated argument with the owner of the last food joint you worked at was the final straw. Throwing your dirty apron at his face, you walked out of there without a single care in the world, and for the moment, you felt powerful. At least until you waltzed into Slack Jack’s and sat at the bar that night, head buried into your palms.

“Rough shift?” Your eyes peered from behind your fingers, focusing on a shot being placed in front of you. And boy, were you thankful for it. Without speaking, you threw that shit back and let it burn your throat, the only consolation for the situation you were in. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Jackson, I quit.” Feigned shock played on the bartender’s face as he cleaned a beer mug. You weren’t the only one who searched for new beginnings in Yangpiji. In front of you was Jackson Wang, owner and proprietor of Slack Jack’s. He had moved there from abroad no more than ten years ago in hopes to reinvent himself, and against all odds did. He had been your close friend for the past three years since moving. Quite frankly the only good thing this area had to offer was Jackson and his cheap drinks that get you hammered quick.

“Really? I wouldn’t have thought!” His hand shot up to cover his mouth, chuckling at your bland reaction. Rolling your eyes so far into your skull, a heavy sigh escaped from within.

“I’m serious. I quit. I quit work, I quit life, I quit Yangpiji- I’m tired… I hate that I’m a jobless 28-year-old drunk, with nothing to offer this world besides how to survive on garlic noodles and rum.” Your hands traveled the air around you as you searched for words, “I can’t even afford to make them Jjajang Noodles, Jack. JJAJANG!” A small shriek spewed out as you downed another shot, you stopped counting after the third one. Dread and sorrow pooled around you in a matter of seconds. You were at your wits end. And you couldn’t say you were past your peak, since frankly you never took off the ground to begin with. “I’m a failure, Jackson.”

        Widened eyes traveled the room trying to find any words of consolation, but the bartender couldn’t find anything other than pity. His hands moved quickly, putting away the bottles before he was tempted to offer you anymore. He usually served you on the house because he knew of your struggles, but you also drank your weight in alcohol, and he didn’t want to go broke any time soon.

“Listen, chief. There’s still an option…” Oh no… You didn’t want to hear it; already knowing what was coming. “The Bang-Lenzo Yangpiji Branch is still hiring for a secretary; you should test it out.”

        Ah, yes. Bang-Lenzo Inc. Somehow a successful company in the dying paper industry. One of the first to drop their deforestation contracts for their supplies and switch entirely to recycled paper. Since most companies didn’t believe in the Save The Trees movement, most of their major clients dropped them and signed contracts with Bang-Lenzo instead. Working for them would be an achievement… If only the branch in your city wasn’t a nut house.

“Jackson…” Elongating the last syllable, you groaned. “I’ve heard horror stories of people that have tried to work there, it’s chaos. No one ever lasts a full week…” The idea of even bothering to work there was dreadful. The workers there were a nightmare, so you’ve heard. But their manager? A complete lunatic. Unprofessional, immature, inappropriate, and other negative connotations have been used to describe the young manager, Jeon Jungkook. Rumor had it he was the top salesman for 4 years straight before the old manager died. When the company crunched the numbers and stats, he was technically the most qualified for the manager position and had managed to keep it for the past 5 years.

        Amidst your internal struggle, Jackson raised an eyebrow and cut you straight. “It pays $15 an hour, plus benefits.” On instinct your hand shot up, doing quick maths in the air. Holy cow. You shifted your attention to Jackson so fast you almost snapped your neck.

“That’s almost $30k a year!”

“More than you’ll ever make busing tables, that’s for sure.” He had a point. And, you were desperate. Maybe not so much at first, but $15 is $15 and if it meant sacrificing your sanity for survival, well damn it, you were down for the count.

“Guess I’m speaking to Jeon…”

        On Jackson’s commands and with a set of instructions, you left the bar early. ‘Prep for tomorrow, rest and sober up.’ Three things that you were never quite well doing at the very last minute. Bits and pieces of information were fed to you, in order to try and snatch the job at its core.

‘From what I’ve heard, he likes to go in on Saturday mornings to catch up on some work.’ All that meant was that you had to wake up early, and your suspected hangover did not like that. You did what any ‘sane’ person would do and popped in a pain killer and a nausea reliever, an old family remedy to wake up fresh and ready.

‘At the breakfast buffet two blocks over, I once saw him obliterate the cheddar biscuits… And I think he has a thing for sausages too.’ Really, it seemed like Jackson knew Jungkook too well, but honestly so did the town through word of mouth. That last bit of information is what made you scour the nearest convenience store for the necessary ingredients to make the piece of resistance, the key to securing your assets. With this bread you were going to get your bread.

---

        Morning came quickly, as you had gone to bed late baking and sorting out your clothes for the day. Sporting one of your finer ensembles just to make a statement, you were ready to take life by the throat. A dark gray, tight pencil skirt above the knee, a light beige button up blouse with pearled buttons, and a blazer to match the skirt. You applied a fair amount of neutral colored makeup in order to rejuvenate your features to not look like you’ve been miserable for the past 10 years. You finished off the look by slipping on some classic, black Mary Jane’s.

        For the first time since inheriting this 1999 Verna, you were glad the aircon was a hunk of junk and only blew hot steam. Of course you drove with the windows down to receive actual fresh air, but you angled the conductors towards the biscuits, keeping them toasty and warm as if freshly baked that morning. Jeon Jungkook would be in the palm of your hands and the job would soon be in your possession. Financial stability: here I come.

        Parked outside of the building, you painted on a mask with all of the false confidence and determination you could muster, before any ounce of regret could slip in. Once the clock hit 8:55am, it was time to go. You grabbed the biscuits, which you had ever so ‘lovingly’ placed in a basket upping the charm factor, and headed for the entrance.

I need money. I need money. I need money. It was the mantra of your choosing as you took the unnervingly long elevator ride up to the Bang-Lenzo office where your unannounced meeting with Jeon Jungkook awaited. Yes, unannounced. Obviously to anyone with common sense of time, 9:00pm wasn't a viable hour to schedule a meeting for the next morning, so you decided to take the determined approach and show up like you already owned the place. For the first time you had a goal and were dead set on obtaining it. Nothing would stop you from getting that income. I need money.

‘Bang-Lenzo INC.’ read the door sign in front of you. For a moment you closed your eyes, fighting off the urge to walk back to your car and forget this place. But your mantra was quick to erase such thoughts. I desperately need money. Overpowered with feigned confidence, you strutted into the main office. Immediately you were faced with your soon to be desk. It was large and crescent shaped, spacious and tall. In a room to your right, you heard a muffled voice. Surely that was Jeon’s office. With a huff of air, you went to knock on his door.

“Huh? C-come in?” Faint and hurried clattering was heard from inside. With suspicion, you went for the door, revealing behind it the manager, and possible future boss: Jeon Jungkook. Sporting nothing but a set of gray sweats, disheveled hair, and a headset placed around his neck. “Did you need something?” 

The scene in front of you made you lose focus for a split second. You had never seen him before, and by personality description you expected many things except him being viciously attractive. And also a gamer, noted by the Overwatch screen on his computer. The thought left you in a split second, you only had one goal and it did not include sleeping with the manager to reach it. You learned that only works once and it’s never rewarding.

“I’m here for the secretary position? I figured since it’s early and unannounced I’d bring in a little something to eat.” A sweet and charmful voice oozed from your throat, foreign to your body unless it was summoned. The confused manager’s doe eyes lit up once they set intensely on the basket making way to his desk. “I hope you enjoy warm biscuits.” Before he could even question what was going on, you were already sitting across from him, placing your intricate resume in front of his grubby self, you were ready to snatch this job from his hands. He had already fallen victim to the biscuits. You could see the revival in his eyes as soon as he took the first bite. Butter and cheese were the key, but  it was the mini weenies hidden inside that sealed the deal.

Jungkook didn't bother to offer it much of a glance. Instead he redirected his attention to you. “Are you good with computers and organizing?” Bread crumbs and cheese lingered on the corner of his lips as he spoke, you could have sworn some spittle came in your direction as well. Upon further inspection, the food stains on his sweats may have started a whole community of bacteria. Any office fantasy of getting railed by a manager quickly died with this individual, and some word of mouth started to make sense.

“Yes. Anything document and spreadsheet related I can handle, not to mention emails, and of course scheduling agendas-“

“And you made these? From scratch?” He held a biscuit in awe, and you couldn’t help but feel success in your future.

“I did.” You offered a soft, shy smile. Another desperate attempt to charm him for the job.

“Do you think you can bring them in on Monday mornings? Starting this Monday? Tell you what, I’ll raise you to $16 an hour if you do.” You choked on your saliva, instantly entering a coughing fit. He really might be off his rocker, but in this economy, who cares? Not you, because for simply baking Sunday nights you get an extra $40 a week. With this bread, you get your bread. 

“I certainly can! It would be my pleasure.”  “Great! Then let’s sign the paperwork and make it official.” He rummaged through his files to retrieve the contract. “Gosh, I can’t wait to tell the other managers all about my new beautiful secretary who cares for me, and cooks for me, and, who knows; maybe even have a secret romance with me?” There it was, the inappropriateness everyone talked about. Jungkook didn’t give you time to come out of your confused state. “Ha! I’m kidding! It’s just a joke. We’re professional. Professional. We’ll of course report our relationship to HR.” A noise seemingly from The Grudge escaped you. There was an ungodly uncomfortable silence before he decided to kill the awkwardness of the situation.“KIDDING AGAIN!” 

        You didn’t question the lacking interview, or how Jungkook was quick to hire you. It was the most unethical thing in the world and yet? You didn’t care. You were one step closer to financial stability, and that was all you could ever ask for. With the contract filled out and already added to the payroll, you had officially signed your soul over to the white collar world. Serving as the official secretary of Jeon Jungkook. He truly was an oddball, and somewhat inappropriate, but he didn’t give any indication of being an asshole of a boss. Too friendly and annoying, but you had the gut feeling he might just be a decent enough boss. Or at least not so much of an idiot that you can tolerate working for. Besides, the money’s good.

        Walking out of and looking back at the building, your eyes spotted his office windows, with him behind, cheerfully waving you off as he ate the remains of the biscuits. A subtle reminder, you needed to prep your baking game.

--- 

       With a more dressed down version of what you wore to the impromptu interview, you drove your car over to the office building. Only this time, pulling up to the parking lot as you were now an employee. Jungkook’s car was already there. A sleek, black Equus. In comparison to its ancestor, your Verna, it exuded upper management presence. He clearly was a successful 27 year old, and you aspired to be able to reach as much coin as he probably had some day. Really, all you ever wanted in life was money. Were you willing to work much for it though? Probably not, but you didn’t have a choice. It was time to get in gear and make up for lost time. 10 years of your life, in fact.

        You stopped thinking about past mistakes before you could let them affect your first day. Taking the biscuits and purse in a hurried manner, you rushed up to the office. Only an hour earlier than the rest, but you still had things to prove, if only to yourself.

        Upon arrival, Jungkook was busy fiddling on your computer. Documents and folders were neatly spread out on a corner of your desk, waiting to be filed and sorted.

“Hey Y/N, You’re early! I hope you don’t mind, I’m setting up your company email so you can quickly get started.” His quick fingers stopped abruptly, for just a moment, his hand reaching for the biscuits. “And thank you for these, I didn’t think you’d actually make them.” He cocked his head in surprise and took a bite before finishing setting up your computer and programs. The comment left you with an odd feeling.

“Of course I would, I promised it.” Truthfully you only agreed because of the pay raise, but you would still hold up with it. No complaints. “Why did you up my pay grade if you didn’t think so?”

“I don’t know, incentive? I figured this would be an easier way to have someone stay for longer than a week at least.” Shaking his head for only a brief second, he continued. “But there’s something about you that tells me you’re going to be the perfect fit here. You have potential, Y/N. That’s why I hired you.” What the fuck was he talking about, ‘Potential’? You were a 28 year old deadbeat, a failure and a degenerate according to your relatives. You had anything but potential. Noting the hesitation to answer, Jungkook changed the subject swiftly. 

“And it’s done. I’ll give you a quick rundown of things on the machine and then we can work with organizing my schedule, I am so out of sync with this company and I haven’t a clue when my next meetings are.” With a clap, he stood up and motioned you to the seat. He continued to peruse through the biscuit basket, searching for the ‘cheesiest ones’.

        After a tour throughout the company programs and where supplies and files were around the office, the other workers started to arrive in a timely fashion. Some didn’t bother to give you the time of day, but others decided to greet you as soon as they walked in. Particularly a few of the guys from accounting and sales were quite enthusiastic to greet you. If you remembered correctly, the younger pair of them were from Accounting; Jimin and Taehyung, they were really nice, a bit shy as were you, but very polite and warm. You watched as they sat at their corner and bickered slightly, but it seemed to be in honest fun. The one from sales, Hoseok, was the opposite in terms of shyness. He welcomed you with the most charming of smiles and emphasized that if you ever needed a helping hand around the office to not hesitate to ask him. He cheerfully chatted your ear for a few minutes giving you a small idea of what a day in the office might be. “It’s not that bad once you get used to it, you just need to give us a chance.” You heard his hidden pleas. Many people came and went from this place and their tongues never ceased to express their distaste for it. Even most of your coworkers gave off an air of annoyance with the place. You couldn’t blame them, but basing your experience on first impressions only, it could be worse. Only time will reveal the shithole everyone else claims this place to be.

        It was 20 minutes past 8:00am and the once empty office was now filled and working. Jungkook came out of his office ever so often, glancing over the the desks, ‘tsk tsk tsk’ is all he ever spoke before going back behind his door. You thought to ignore his manner and focus on organizing his schedule based on the emails he forwarded you. He had plenty of meetings, webinars and conference calls to attend, and they were all scattered around. On your shared calendar, you added the event reminder and description for each and every one for the next month, even going an extra step to add reminders on your own calendar the day before, just to make sure he’s up to date. 

        A new email displayed on the screen, an impromptu conference call for Jungkook in 10 minutes labeled ‘URGENT’. You were about to head to his office to notify him, but you remained seated as the entrance door swung abruptly, startling you just enough to make you forget your name and the company you now work for. All you saw was a coat being placed on the rack next to you with an exasperated sigh escaping the core of the individual. Right away, it was clear that if there was anyone in the entire building that hated having to wake up early in the morning just to show up to work in this unfortunate place more than you, it was him. Like the majority of the employees, he looked straight up miserable, even behind dark colored sunglasses. The freshly made venti Iced Americano, the slow paced walk to his desk and his disregard to show up on time were, in your opinion, strong indicators of his likely hatred for his job.

        Settled in his desk, he removed his shades. His narrow, cat-like eyes drew you in like magnets, there was no telling whether or not his iciness was natural, or a ruse to limit his interactions with the rest of the staff. Yet somehow they were still fitting for his rounder, chubbier cheeks. His lips were already pursed downward, but they seemed to curl even further and remain that way almost permanently as Jungkook peered his head out. You tried calling out to him, but your voice was muted by his own exclaims.

“Yoongi!” He shouted, you could say enthusiastically, towards the late addition in the office. He released another sigh, this time accompanied by an eye roll.

“Not now, Jungkook.” His voice was deep and low. Eyes never abandoning his monitor as Jungkook approached him. 

        Whatever conversation they were having was nothing but whispers and subtle head shakes. Yoongi was it? Didn’t seem in the mood for whatever chatter the manager kept going on about. You noticed bow everyone in the office was trying to work, but not being able to steal sudden glances from the conversation. Judging by those, especially Hoseok’s since he was sitting right at the situation, you assume they all had an idea as to what was unfolding. You, however, could only assume was an odd scolding in Jungkook’s manner for him showing up late.

        A ringing alert brought your focus back to your own desk, the incoming call you guessed was from Corporate due to the email. Jungkook had previously requested that you warn him first before answering any calls from them, and you remembered what you were ready to do before Yoongi walked in. Not wanting to bring in any attention to yourself you debated quickly which was the best option, calling him over or going straight to him, but you didn’t even answer yourself before your legs started moving on their own.

“Jungkook.” You tapped his shoulder gently, and spoke softly. The young manager startled a bit, and you were unsure if the other man’s expression was relief or annoyance, but you let it go quickly.

“Yes? Oh! That reminds me. Everyone!” What you wanted to avoid was exactly what he gathered: attention.

“This is Y/N, office secretary. I want you all to make her feel welcome, be kind.” He kept going on one of his badly timed speeches until no one paid him any mind.

“Jungkook, you have-”

“Would you both excuse yourselves and talk elsewhere?” The deep voice that spoke seemed to command more authority than Jungkook did. 

“Sorry,Y/N. Yoongi’s a bit on edge due to his divorce trial.” The last phrase he tried to utter as a whisper by leaning close to your ear, and although he made it sound like such, it was still loud enough for people to hear.

“Do you really have to tell people about my personal life? Where does it end with you?”

“I felt like I needed to excuse your attitude, she’s part of our family now anyways, she can know.” 

        Their bickering picked up again, Jungkook defending the reasoning for his declarations and Yoongi countering with how he always oversteps fine lined boundaries and doesn't have any common sense. Although you very much agreed with what Yoongi was saying that it was an invasion of privacy, you were still caught in the middle of their crossfire and all you wanted to do was inform Jungkook about the god forsaken call.

“JUNGKOOK.” Your raised voice silenced their bickering, and the room came to an onlooking halt. Anxiety started creep behind you due to shouting over your manager on your first day, causing flashbacks of previous outcomes due to this similar situation to roll like a montage in your head, but your patience was running thin.

“What, what is it?” Jungkook, unphased by the situation, cocked his head at you in slight confusion.

“You have a call from Corporate.” You maintained your stern tone, but you were wavering internally. His demeanor took a turn, eyes so wide you feared they would pop out.

“Did you answer?” Whispers gave an undertone of fear. With the phone still ringing in the background, you shook your head.

“Good. Tell them I’m out with a major client. I’m not here.” He hurriedly walked you back to the phone. The glint in his eyes says you should worry, but you swallowed and answered with the same feigned confidence you used for the interview.

“Bang-Lenzo, this is Y/N.”

        You successfully got rid of the Corporate call in the morning, but you were unsure how long that might last given the urgency they requested it with. And Jungkook’s behavior regarding any calls from Corporate today, or the rest of the week from what he stated, was worrisome. It was a concern you’d tuck to the back of your head, it wasn’t your business anyways.

        As the day went on, you saw that life in the office was quite eventful, so to speak. After the ordeal of Yoongi’s divorce proceedings this morning, and Jungkook avoiding Corporate like the Black Plague, an array of unusual things for a normal day to day office routine continued to happen.

        Mainly, Jungkook was entirely distracting. To you, the staff and mostly to himself. He would constantly try to make conversation with anyone, and the topics were always painfully awkward. Anytime he was actually in his office, more time was spent playing Overwatch with Taehyung than doing any kind of work. Not to mention he eventually ventured over to the conference room, with Jimin and Hoseok in toe, for their “twice a day dancercise routine” as their official 15 minute break away from their computers.

        If you thought the nonsense would end there, you were soon to be corrected. It in fact continued in the numerous times Taehyung and Jimin came by your desk asking for copies. And not even official work copies- they were asking you to print out different versions of invitational flyers for their ‘seasonal crop party’. To your surprise, Taehyung had inherited the only strawberry farm in the region due to his grandparents passing, not like you had bothered to ask anyways. The only question you cared an answer for was if Jungkook had approved of using office supplies for this. It shouldn't have shocked you like it did that the man himself had designed the flyer and organized such an event, but still. 

        Lunchtime couldn’t arrive quicker. Some of the staff beelined with their meals over to the lunchroom area, while the others went out to eat. You half expected Jungkook to take advantage of the lunchroom crowd for his shenanigans, but he opted for eating in his office with Jimin and Taehyung instead. You could hear their incessant planning murmurs as you passed by to heat up your meal.

“Y/N!” Jungkook exclaimed once he caught your movement. “If the others give you the cold shoulder, feel free to join us here for lunch.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I planned on eating at my desk,” You chose your next words carefully, feeling the party planners’ gazes. “But I’ll keep it in mind in case I get too lonely, thank you!” The soft smile that spread across your smile was enough to comfort them from the small rejection. They went back to their discussions and you headed for the microwave.

        Peaking your head into the lunchroom, it was filled with the younger, unwelcoming faces from earlier. It’s not like you planned on sitting down and chatting with them, you were there just to heat up your lunch, but upon entry you noticed how their conversations volumes lowered all the way down to whispers and snickers. You focused your attention on the whirring noises and beeps the microwave offered as a mere distraction. It was a curse you carried for as long as you could remember. Any giggle, whisper, snicker, or anything of the sort you heard in your perimeter, you felt was directed at you. As if they could see the list of failures and misfortunes displayed on your back.

        You took your bowl and offered the room a nervous smile and nod before leaving, hoping it came across as a ‘sorry to bother, enjoy your lunch’.  As you exited the room, Hoseok, tailed by Yoongi, was heading with his food over to the conference room.

“Y/N, come join us if you want.” Hoseok was beaming, if the sun was human it would be him. Contrary to the one walking past him, not bothering to stop. He could be truthfully considered the dark side of the moon. Although with his back to you, you could make out his unrelenting scowl reflecting in the conference room’s glass wall. “Ignore him, he’s still mad over this morning.”

“All things considered, I can’t blame him. But I think I’ll pass.” Hoseok hooked his free arm around yours before you could continue.

“Nonsense, you shouldn’t cast yourself out on the first day.” In truth, Hoseok’s friendly manner and joyous attitude couldn’t be denied. You felt his genuine interest in making sure your transition into the office was a smooth one. In the room, Yoongi was already gulpin down his food, not bothering to glance up until he spoke.

“Shut the door so I can tell you…” Words escaped him, replaced by a sigh as he spotted your presence, and Hoseok’s sudden realization of what this lunch reunion entailed. Surely, they were meant to discuss the divorce proceedings, but Hoseok forgot upon trying to welcome you.

“Right… Y/N, rain check? Alone on your first day though...” He sighed as he flushed with embarrassment and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t worry,” that was directed more at Yoongi if anything, a small assurance accompanied by the subtlest of nods. The rest was for Hoseok, as a dismissive joke to calm his worries. “I’ll probably join the Crop Festers and their shenanigans.” He cocked his head in confusion, a sharp ‘hm?’ caught in his throat. You brushed it off, leaving them with a wave. Wishing them a nice lunch and closing the door behind you, it was unknown to you that the Crop Festers had overheard, and were expecting you at Jungkook’s door excitedly.

“So you’re joining us then?” Taehyung assumed overjoyed, and Jimin couldn’t hide his giddiness. Jungkook was at the back at his desk, shaking his head in tune with soft chuckles before waving you in. It was clear that there was no way to have an unbothered lunch for the next 45 minutes, so… You joined.

        Tae, as he now urged you to call him, and Jimin made space for you between them. Rice, meats, noodles, and an array of veggies were spread across the desk, now along with your own addition of food and in no time you were all eating and sharing your meals. Jungkook even offered up the few remaining biscuits, causing Tae and Jimin to fuss over why weren’t they brought out sooner and how good of a cook you were. Now they were expectant for next Monday morning for a pleasant cheesy boost.

        Unknown to your conscious self, you were having a nice time. Further into the lunch, you became more involved with the Crop Party planning, and were even getting a bit excited for the day to arrive. A paid work day for a strawberry picking party? Who could say no to that? You weren’t ready to admit it just yet, with it being the first day and all, but… You were starting to like this place, even if you weren’t ready to acknowledge it. Once lunch was over, and everyone was making their way back to their desks, they eyed you with slight annoyance as you walked out of the office along with Tae and Jimin, still laughing at one of Jungkook’s impressions of some of the staff. Unaware, Yoongi and Hoseok exchanged a suspicious glance. Who was to blame any of them? It was a first for them to see someone new being friendly, or accepting the office shenanigans as they transpired.

        Afternoon was a milder version of what the morning turned out to be, everyone was calmer now, and as the hours passed you noticed they worked harder. Even Jungkook was filing reports and taking work calls, as long as they weren’t from Corporate. One of your last tasks was to send out some notice of change in policy emails to clients, it was the most time consuming, but it helped the remaining hours pass by in a flurry.

        Bags started to be packed and coats began to be thrown on as the clock got nearer to 5:00pm. Everyone was ready to put an end to the odd Monday, and you could tell by their soft smiles and shy ‘See you tomorrow’s.  Hoseok dropped by your desk with a “Lunch tomorrow, for sure!” before leaving and wishing you well. Yoongi followed behind him, not offering anything at all. More than likely still fussy over his personal issues being announced in the office. Jimin and Taehyung each went for a goodbye hug, as they were more than excited to have you aboard. Often they carpooled, you found out that they live together on the farm. After being friends for so long, they decided to run it together. Only you and Jungkook, who was still stuck in his office remained. With your things on hand, you peered through his window to give him a small wave which he returned, followed by pointing to the phone and making mocking expressions of talking too much. With a shake of your head, you went to clock out, putting an end to the first day on the job. You would call it a success, for it being your very first 8-5, and it deemed celebration. So once you hopped on your Verna, and peered out of the parking lot, your destination was clear: Slack Jack’s. 

        You had never once been there on a Monday, much less after 5:00pm. Late weekend nights were what you had grown accustomed to due to your old odd jobs here and there. But much to your surprise, the ambience at this hour was much more tranquil and up your alley than what you were used to. You hated crowds and loud groups of people, and there was none of that here. Eyes scanned the bar for your favorite and only owner, who upon noticing your arrival called you over to an empty stool up at the bar. Eager steps made their way over as he placed your favorite shot on the counter: a water moccasin. You paid no mind to the individual next to your stool as you sat down, eyes trained on the peachy, sweet and sour whiskey shot glass before you. Widened eyes stared, unknown to you, as you drank it in one big gulp, placing the now empty glass on the counter, snapping and pointing at Jackson with finger guns as you exclaimed “Hit me again”.

        A smirk played on the corners of his mouth as he placed a second one just as you finished asking. Knowing your habits, he made two as soon as he saw you. “I’m guessing today went... ?” He was expecting you to tell him all about your day, as soon as you finished fighting off the burning feeling down your throat. It was always the second one that got you the most. Hissing for only a few seconds, you spoke.

“Honestly? Honestly honest? I can’t complain.” Alcohol was slowly starting to take effect on you as you rambled on. “At first I was kinda freaked out? Because everyone was kinda weird? OH! And then Jungkook decided to out a guy’s whole divorce or something?” In the background, next to you, someone cleared their throat as Jackson bit his bottom lip, trying to hold in a chuckle, but you went on. “I don’t know, it was weird. But like afterwards, it was pretty chill. Jungkook ain’t that bad. And lowkey? I can’t wait for the strawberry season, dude.” A snort escaped you as you thought back on the Crop Party. You couldn’t wait. Tae mentioned something about making fresh milkshakes, and right now you were wildin’ at the thought.

“So I’m guessing you’ve met Yoongi?” Jackson’s hand motioned you to look to your right. Lo and Behold, Mr. Divorcee was magically there, a citrus whiskey on the rocks in his hands. And that’s when it hits you, you have a loud mouth.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Eyes like a deer in headlights, pleading for forgiveness. Yoongi waved it off. You finally heard his voice without a hint of annoyance.

“It’s fine.” Bringing the glass to his lips, he took a long sip. Which reminded you.

“Jackson, may I please--”

“Have another?” He chuckled as he went to prepare a fresh shot. “Don’t get carried away tonight, though. You work tomorrow, remember?” 

“Hey, I have self control. I won’t drink past 6:30, I swear.” To even prove such control, you didn’t rush to down the shot. Instead you tried to build a conversation with the man in charge of the drinks, but he cursed silently at a reminder.

“Fuck, excuse me for a sec. I have to call my parents.” You remembered him mentioning something about an upcoming anniversary as he rushed to the back, leaving you alone with Yoongi, a shot and your thoughts. 

        Allowing your mind to travel far for a moment, the waterfall of bitter memories with your family started to cloud your field of vision. Forgetting where you were and who was around, you brought your hands up to either cheek and gave yourself some quick, small smacks in an attempt to distract your tear ducts from doing their job. A groan escaped you as you reached for the shot in front of you, disappearing it in an instant. So much for self control.

        The man next to you watched in awe. He already knew far more about you than whatever first impressions you thought you gave, courtesy of Jackson. But he was one to always doubt the extent of the things he said, and since forming odd suspicions of you at the office, he figured now was the time to see if anything added up. 

“Escapism?” The sudden voice shocked you, and brought you back to reality. Another snort made its way out your nose, in an endearing manner.

“You can say that. No, you know what? Life is a bitch.” In your drunken manner, you broke. You vented, you ranted, and you rambled. You laid out your entire life in front of this man, this stranger, revealing more than what was necessary, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “And now here I am.” Fingers tapped the counter, antsy. Waiting for Jackson to come back and serve you yet another shot to calm down.

“I see, I’m sorry for all that. Things are looking up now, at least?” Yoongi shrugged, a winced expression since your story was still fresh in his mind. “But, if it makes you feel any better, I have some fucked up shit going on myself."

“Oh really? A divorce? Family exile beats loveless marriage any day, boy.” Another side effect of your alcoholism was straight up competitiveness. Even though it stung him, he couldn’t help but laugh. For him, it even felt like the first time in a while he had done so earnestly.

“My wife is pregnant.” Whiskey glass was brought back to his lips for a moment, barely touching them. “And it’s not mine.” He finished off the remainder of the glass, while you stared in silence, jaw dropped.

“Whoa, that sucks... How do you know though?” You brought your face closer to him, in curious intrigue, not knowing what personal space was; but he didn’t mind much as he inched in a bit closer to speak.

“I had a vasectomy.” A sighed escaped his core as he too revealed his life to a stranger. “Before we got married, we were clear that we didn’t want children. At least not for a long time, so I got the surgery done. If we ever wanted kids we would have a talk and take out time to decide how to go about it. But one day,” he shook his head, thoughts lost in the memory “she was very persistent that I go get the reversal done. Like, that I had to get it done that week. And I found that suspicious, so I pretended to get it.” His fingers now mimicked yours earlier, lightly tapping on the counter. “We waited the recovery time, had sex, and a few days later, she was pregnant. So I filed for divorce. Do I win now?” His usual serious pout curled into a smirk as you shook your head no.

“Nah, I still win. You can always get a new wife, I can never get new parents. I don’t make the rules, chief.”

        The mood was starting to liven up, but the universe often threw curveballs in your direction. Text alerts distracted you from your office chatter with Yoongi, and again, you soured. It wasn’t often when you received messages from your cousin, but you never talked about the elephant in the room. This time, however.

‘Your dad’s been asking about you lately. Anything worth mentioning?’ You watched the words fade from the pop-up screen, and debated in silence. The shift was visible, and Yoongi caught it as it happened. “Is everything okay?” he asked. Instead of answering, you simply opened the chat and showed him the message. Grabbing your phone in his hands he stared.

“Do I answer? Do I just leave it for tomorrow? What could I even bother telling?” Complaints continued to spew out of your mouth, muting the light clicks of Yoongi’s rapid fingers working on the keyboard. You’re only brought back from your rambles when you feel him pressing your phone still in his hand, back into yours, a message already written out in the text box.

‘I just started at a new office job. Safe, secure. It’s working out.’ Short, simple and to the point. A quick nod was enough for him to press send. As he pulled away, leaving you with the chat which was instantly read, you expected to feel a bit better, but your worries and anxiety remained as your fingers drummed at a quickened pace, itching for yet another shot. 

        Right on cue, Jackson’s presence made its way to you. Catching your tells, his hands moved straight to the Schnapps.

“Actually, I think she might be better off with water instead.” You shot daggers at him, annoyed at such an assumption. “Same for me. You said you won’t drink past 6:30. I don’t make the rules, chief.” You couldn't grumble out much, because as much as you desperately wanted to be irresponsible and drown your sorrows in waves of alcohol, you had a new, very decent, job to uphold. And that required showing up sober.

        The rest of the night went by pretty decently, ending with a new weird routine of going home early instead of waiting until Jackson finished closing off, to drag you all the way to his car. The nights you drove to your home from the bar were less than the ones he posted you up at his own apartment. 

“You’re good to drive, right?” This time, it was Yoongi who was nice enough to walk you over to the beat up Verna at the end of the lot.

“Surprisingly enough, I am. Thanks.” Sticking the key into the lock, you jiggled it around. The only sure way to open the door these days. “What about you?”

“Considering I only had one glass of whiskey, I think I’m alright.” He motioned over to the Genesis next to you. “I’m gonna head out. Drive safe.”

        You nod and make sure he's at least safe besides his car door before entering yours. Turning back briefly to look at you, your goodbye wave stops halfway as his words reach your ears.

“Lunch tomorrow.” Is all he says. he doesn't even bother waiting for a confirmation, he simply gets inside his car and drives away.

        Starting up your car was always a hassle but you got it kicking in no time. As you pulled out of the lot, you spotted the Genesis still at the empty intersection. You flashed your headlights twice before heading the opposite direction, and from your rearview saw him continue on his way. Despite all the characters and particular personas inhabiting the living bodies of your coworkers, you couldn’t help but think: Yoongi's just might be the most intriguing to you after all.

[shapeshiftersvt]

Custom Cuts: The Relaxed Fit

Morning, shapeshifters! The votes are in, and the results are clear: y’all want to hear about everything. We’ll get right on that! First place by a narrow margin went to the Relaxed Fit, so here we are.

Let’s start with why we made it.

Over the years many, many people have asked us about exercise while binding. To this day figure skaters, dancers, roller derby skaters, wrestlers, acrobats, archers, horseback riders, and circus professionals of all types ask, essentially, the same question:

Anonymous said to shapeshiftersinc: Hi! I just stumbled across your business and was wondering if you could wear one of your binders while exercising. I’m a figure skater and dance trapeze artist and I really dig how your binders are fashionable as well as functional. If possible I thought they might be cool as a costume piece. Let me know what you think about binding + skating/trapeze. Thank you ~

p-x said to shapeshiftersinc: Hi! I’m a nonbinary college student studying dance, and I bind for dysphoria related reasons. However, I havent been able to bind as frequently lately because of my schedule involving dance (im basically dancing every day). I’ve always heard that it isnt safe to exercise or dance in a binder, so im curious what your take on it would be!! Maybe my current binders (not purchased from shapeshifters) just dont fit well enough to be comfortable for dance? Thanks!

Anonymous said to shapeshiftersinc: Are you binders appropriate to work out in? I do roller derby and I really don’t want to wear a sports bra because they don’t bind as well I’m trying to pass as male in a traditionally all-female sport. Thanks!

Anonymous said to shapeshiftersinc: I know I probably shouldn't but I'm really uncomfortable with my chest during sex and I was wondering if there is any way to wear some sort of binder????

In short: can I live my life while binding? Can I be comfortable with my body, while I’m doing something physical that pushes my body? Can I exercise and be present in myself and not dissociate? Can you give me permission to live in ways that make me happy?

When I started binding, the rule was: never exercise with a binder on. Never. Anytime you’re at the gym, jogging, swimming, anything? Take that binder off.

Nobody I knew actually followed that rule. We all told it to each other, reminded each other, gave half-ashamed admissions when we broke it: yeah, I know I’m not supposed to, but I have to. That rule was part and parcel of the martyrdom of chest binding. Even on days when I wore my 2011-era binder and hauled a 40-lb backpack across the city and did not, for whatever reason, feel pain afterwards, I still felt guilt! For setting a bad example, for not following The Rules.

It’s past time to be practical. We all have to live our lives. Carry backpacks through school. Go to work. Move house. Push a wheelchair. Breathe with asthma. Work at jobs with “must be able to lift 30-50lbs” in the description. Sing, LARP, commute by bike. We are navigating complicated and awesome and active lives. Here at Shapeshifters, we have always said that at the end of the day, you make the call on what’s best for your body and your life.

That said, our basic safety advisory remains the same: if it hurts, take it off. If you can’t breathe, take it off. During physical activity especially, it’s important to check in with yourself! Pause to stretch, take deep breaths, and ask: am I hurting and ignoring it? All safety guidelines for any kind of physical activity still apply while you’re binding. Living your life should not hurt.

That’s where the Relaxed Fit comes in.

I developed the first relaxed fit binder for myself to wear during yoga. It’s a quarter-size up within our fine-graded sizing system, which means it’s 1” greater in circumference. It never includes a stiff insert. This fit is a compromise: it doesn’t get me the kind of silhouette I want while wearing a button-down and a tie, but it holds everything still, and it lets me do a sustained 60-90 minutes of deep-breathing slow exercise without cramps or soreness. With a baggy T-shirt over it, I look the same as I do wearing my regular size.

For the record, it’s an Incredibly Gay Viper.

Customers who ordered a relaxed fit have reported back that it’s comfortable, sometimes to the point that they’ve forgotten they have it on. It’s been helpful for customers with asthma and EDS to bind without discomfort. Folks who swim in binders have given it good feedback, too.

As with all chest binders, it’s not a cure-all and it won’t work for everyone, but if you’re looking to bind and do some vigorous activities on the physical plane, I really recommend trying it out.

Here’s DW modeling a relaxed fit binder:

By contrast, in a standard fit with a stiff insert:

If you’d like your binder to be relaxed fit, check this box in your measurements form!

Finally, many of us (including me!) find that a side zipper is really useful for a quick release, at the end or in the middle of a workout. More on that over here, in our zipper masterpost.

Do you have a relaxed fit binder? Do you want one? Is there a question about it I didn’t cover? Let me know in the replies!

(This post is mirrored from our store blog, and based off of an earlier masterpost on this same tumblr.)

[peachymhaechan]

“Trust me, it isn’t just for the camera.”

Genre: fluff, babey !! nothin like a good ol idol au, am I rite, laid ease??

Warnings: bad words (like everything else I've written ever lol)

Pairing: Taeyong X female idol reader

A/N: junior year is almost over, thank god. I am so tired. writing this was such a good break from studying for my ap exams and cramming for finals. thank u, Taeyong. also, im working on something for the superhuman comeback, stay tuned, yall :)

you had been a model for sm for a few years now

well within your first year you had gained so much popularity that you became the company’s most hired model and had received a nickname from your employers and fans

you were their Golden Girl (hhhhhffk listen,,, we been knew I ain’t creative), and everyone was dying to work with their Golden Girl

most notable for your bubbly personality and striking looks, every employer was fascinated by your ability to pull off any look 

very similar is lee Taeyong, another artist signed to your company

with his stark beauty, it was no understatement to say that you would not have minded working with someone as pretty as him

so, when your manager told you about an upcoming project where you’d be working with Taeyong and a few of the other nct boys you were #sh00k to say the least

“wait..... WHAT?!” was all you could say in response to your manager telling you the good news

“Yeah, I know. I know how long you’ve wanted to work with him. Well, get ready. For this photoshoot they need you to have bubblegum pink hair, and.....” 

for the next few days, you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what was about to happen

yeah, you guys were signed to the same company but that doesn't mean you saw him all the time

you had only seen him once, and that was when you had just become a trainee and were walking through the halls to try and find the recording studio on the third floor

you accidentally went into the dance studio and found yourself interrupting a dance practice for nct u

“Sorry, I have to find someone in the recording studio, where-” 

“You’re fine, don't worry about it! If you go out this hallway, make the next left turn and it should be the second door on the right,” Taeyong said, giving you a small smile 

that was the ONLY interaction you had with him, but boy even when covered in sweat was he gorgeous

and you got to WORK WITH THAT 

the day finally came where you got to work with him yayayay

you woke up at 4 am after having only 1 hour of sleep, thriving

you got up and took a quick shower, did your skincare routine, and changed into comfy clothes for the day

on your way to meeting your manager you grabbed a few coffees for the staff as a thank you for the opportunity

you met your manager at the company building and it started to hit that 

//ohmygod this is really about to happen//

your manager tried her best to calm your nerves but damn, you were not having any of that

scrolling through Instagram, you anxiously awaited the company van that would take you to the photoshoot set

when it pulled up after about twenty minutes of waiting, you and your crew piled in and then you heard your manager tell the driver to hold the van for a few more minutes, seeing as Taeyong and his people were running a little behind

that only made your heart beat even faster

hgjaonfnwnw anxious from waiting, you just wanted to get it over with and rip it off like a bandaid

five minutes later, you saw three people walking over to the van

one of which was wearing sweats, sneakers, a hoodie, and a mask

you automatically recognized who that was despite the baggy clothing and half hidden face

oh fuck oh shit

one of the other two men talked to your manager, who had gotten out to speak to taeyong’s manager and the other person there

Taeyong climbed into the van and made eye contact with you in the back row, spotting the empty seat beside you

“Is this seat taken?” he asked, nodding to the spot right next to you

you felt a blush creep into your cheeks and your throat started getting closed up from nerves

so all you could do was shake your head no

he sat down and gave you a small smile, then started yawning and stretching out his arms

you had one extra coffee left from earlier and you figured it’d be a great ice breaker maybe 

“I have an extra coffee from a coffee run I went on earlier, do you want it? It’s not super hot or anything, but its still a little warm, and its caffeine,” you said and his eyes immediately lit up

“Oh, yes please!!” 

you grabbed the last cup from the drink carrier and gave it to him, and he thanked you right away

“How did you have enough time to go on a coffee run this morning?” Taeyong asked in shock

“I got up at four and am running on one hour of sleep,” you explained, not even trying to seem like you have it together

that's what its like being a hot mess, babey !!1

“That’s not good, you need to get more sleep. Were you out late last night with your schedule or something?” 

concerned mom? yes

“I was out until about eleven pm, yeah, but in all honesty... I couldn’t sleep because I was very nervous to meet you.” 

bro you need to get some sleep and get your filter back in place

bc when you get no sleep?? a bitch has NO filter whatsoever

Taeyong was genuinely surprised that you were nervous to meet him

“Really?? You were nervous to meet me?? Why, am I really that scary or something??” 

“Its not that you’re scary, exactly, but... I have wanted to work with you for a very long time, and it still hasn’t fully set in that this is my reality.” 

he nodded after you spoke, and it seemed to both impress and confuse him

no matter how popular him and his group got, he never got used to having people look up to him

and to hear it from someone as successful as you, someone he has constantly seen in the media for so long?? mind boggling

it kind of made him nervous tbh

before he could reply, the managers and everyone piled in and the van started moving to the photoshoot set

as soon as you guys left the company building, your head leaned onto the window and you passed tf out

when you woke up, Taeyong was tapping you on the shoulder and telling you that yall got to the set finally

taeyong’s face greeting you when you woke up? shocking, but not an unwelcome sight

“Alright, we need to get you guys into hair and makeup, then we will send you both over to wardrobe and they'll make any last minute touchups and then you can get to work. Sound good?” your manager told you two, and when you both nodded, she immediately directed you to the makeup studio

your artists were very excited to work with you, which made everything much more pleasant

“The feel we are going for with this shoot will perfectly fit your aesthetic and your features, I’m so excited!!” and “You’re naturally this pretty? And after only one hour of sleep? Oh my god, my under eye bags are permanent and it looks like you don’t have any at all!” or the occasional “I wish I could be as stunning as you without even trying...” 

it sounded like Taeyong was going through the same thing, as you could hear some of the other makeup artists gushing about his sharp features

“Wow, your eyes are so beautiful!” and “Your smile is stunning!” and “I wish I was half as pretty as you are!” 

you could tell it made him a bit uncomfortable because he sat there with a :} face 

(unrelated but: that face looks like the grinch lowkey, ok sorry for interrupting lol, back to the fic)

you two made eye contact in the mirror and you could practically read his mind

I want this to stop, they’re making me uncomfortable, oh my god. 

to which your eyes said, Same here, and I am used to dealing with this on a daily basis.  

luckily, they finished putting shadows and liner on your eyelids, and then they sent you to the hair department

for hair, they teased and curled your hair, giving you a tired and just woken up look

well, a styled just woken up kind of look

Taeyong came in halfway through your hair and all they had to do for him was throw some gel in his and make it a little messy and he was good to go

by the time you made it to wardrobe Taeyong was already on set and getting individual pictures for the concept

they threw you in clothes, and by clothes you mean a men’s oversized white button up, short shorts, and a bright red bra

and before you could even leave to head to the set, they made sure that the first few buttons were undone on the shirt

to say you felt a lil bit exposed and cold was an understatement

the second he saw you, Taeyong had a glint in his eye and he couldn't stop staring at you

naturally, that made you blush and get really self conscious

?? wot

“Hello, I am your photographer for the day. This shoot is supposed to be sort of a couple, romantic fashion shoot, so I hope you two know each other very well and are comfortable with being close to one another. Do you two have any issues with that?”  

you both looked at each other, 

and then lee Taeyong, 

while staring dead in your eyes, 

said

“No, sounds perfect!” 

bitch

what the fuck was that supposed to mean ?! 

“sounds perfect” uhhhhhhhhhhh lemme get a mcfuckin explanation 

he gave you a small smile before you managed to get out, “No issues here.” 

that only made him smile more

njsdncvcaehcfabcafcb bitch!! you were whipped for him already

“Great! Let’s get started, then. Y/N, I will have you stand over here, and...” 

let’s just say that the photographer had you two start with basic stuff, like you two standing next to one another with Taeyong putting his hand on your shoulder and things like that

it quickly escalated though, and he had you doing things like laying your legs across his lap and running your hands through his hair

“Sorry if this is a little too intimate for you,” you whispered into his ear during another shot, where you were draped over his sitting form and your hand caressed his cheek

“Don’t apologize, it’s not. If anything, I’m a little flustered to have someone as pretty as you staring at me the way you are, Y/N, even if it is just for the camera,” he told you, shifting so that you were turned with your back to the camera and chest flush to his, your hands delicately placed on his upper arms, his hand resting on your lower back and you staring up at him

faintly you could hear the photographer say,  “THIS IS IT, THIS IS THE ONE!”

“Trust me, it isn’t just for the camera,” you mumbled, not able to filter yourself due to sleep deprivation

you thought he didn’t hear you, but then a smirk formed on his face and you knew you #fucked up

the end of the shoot was arriving, and there were a few more pictures the photographer had in mind, but he wanted to let you guys do your own thing and see where it ended up

“You guys can do what you want for these next few pictures, just do what feels naturally and I’ll angle it well.” very encouraging, right

making use of the pieces of furniture on the set, you decided to lay on the bright red couch and Taeyong looked down at you from behind it

“I couldn’t hear what you said earlier, can you say it again please?” he asked, trying to fish a confession out of you

Oh, Mr. Lee Taeyong, it won’t be that easy. 

“Hmmm, what do you mean?” you asked, purposefully trying to be as close to him as you could, so you sat on your hips to the side more and pulled him down so your hand rested on his cheek and your face was //right there, you could feel his breath on your lips//

(the photographer would have fainted there if he could get away with technical time theft while on the job)

taeyong’s breath hitched and a blush crept onto his cheeks and you knew you got him

ladies and gentlemen.... we got ‘im

even still, he tried to get it out of you

“Well, I thought I heard you say something under your breath before the photographer spoke to us,” he coyly explained, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap

at that point it became a game of who could get the other to blush more

and lemme just say, mama didn’t raise no lil bitch, so you were NOT about to lose

grabbing both sides of his face in your small hands, you leaned in and whispered, “I hope it’s okay that I’m going to kiss you now.” 

his eyes went wide, and then he said, “MORE than okay.” 

and the next thing you know, your lips were planted on his and the photographer was sobbing genuine tears

“THIS IS PEAK PROFESSIONALISM, OH MY GOD, IT’S BEEN YEARS SINCE I’VE WORKED WITH MODELS AS GOOD AS YOU TWO, OH MY, THIS IS THE SHOT THAT WILL MAKE IT BIG, I’M-” 

of course his enthusiasm made you start giggling, and you could feel Taeyong smiling into the kiss

when you two broke apart you leaned your forehead on his and stared into his eyes

“I think we both know what I said earlier,” you told him, throwing your arms around his neck

“Good, because I hope we are both on the same page,” he said, smirking slightly

“And that is?” 

and all he did in response was kiss you again, but this time not smiling from the photographer’ s goofy remarks

the photographer gave the okay after he got that shot and told you two that he wish he’d gotten to work with you sooner

the ironic thing here is that you and Taeyong wished the same thing

you headed back to the dressing rooms, hand in hand, getting stares from the staff but not caring much

or at all, really

#bad bitch club: RISE

“I hope you know that as soon as those pictures get released, people will assume we are dating, right?” you said, wiping the makeup off and combing through your hair

you quickly ducked into changing room, throwing on the clothes you were wearing when you arrived

you heard him chuckle from the other little makeshift room

you exited your changing room and found him waiting for you

“Why let them assume when we could tell them the truth ourselves?” 

and somehow, despite the crazy hectic schedules you both had, 

and all the crazy ups and downs of being in the public spotlight,

a few months later, when the magazine finally hit the shelves and the cover image was you two kissing each other and looking like the happiest couple in the world,

when you got invited to an interview to discuss the inspiration for the images and the experience of working with each other, 

you two walked in hand in hand, smiling brightly and looking like your average couple that was in love

and when asked if you two were dating, 

you replied, “Yes, and it has been the best few months of my life so far.” 

:) uwu

[beanplague-moved]

Yoosung Kim’s Guide to a First Relationship

yo! the sales for @yoosungkimzine went through very successfully, and thus im able to post my full piece for it. here we go i guess.

AO3 | writing commissions | my secret mysme blog that has nothing on it.

Tip #1: Kissing

Yoosung’s first kiss with MC is his first kiss in general. It’s expected to be a little clumsy. The fact that it’s a spontaneous public display happens to be enough to mask the clumsiness.

On a related sidenote, he really didn’t think about how much the eyepatch would factor into the situation—and if he did, he assumed it wouldn’t really have anything to do with it. Lips and eyes are different, and kissing is always portrayed as instinctual and easy on television, so why would it matter? Except, well, depth perception is kind of important when it comes to just about anything, and so his first kiss is really, really good, but he’s also mostly kissing the corner of her mouth, because of the lack of aforementioned depth perception. Whoops.

That said, it isn’t the first kiss that’s especially complicated. It’s all the other ones. There are a lot of intricacies involved in kissing, or, Yoosung feels like there are. Even simple things, like a kiss on the cheek upon meeting each other, seem complicated. Is he supposed to initiate it? Would it be weird if he asked beforehand? Would it be even weirder if he didn’t ask? The latter seems more likely—what if he makes her uncomfortable? He’d never want to overstep his bounds, but how does one even ask about that sort of thing? Zen would know what to do—wait, thinking about what his friends would do while he’s on a date is weird, right? This is terrible.

“Yoosung,” says MC, as they tread the sidewalk, “You’re thinking too much.”

Yoosung manages a semi-humorous response. “I am not. I’ve never had a thought in my life.”

“You have been looking at me like you wanted to say something for five minutes now,” she replies, “And you’ve had lots of thoughts. In fact, you’re having entirely too many thoughts right now.”

She does have a point. He could be getting into his own head about it. He gets into his own head about a lot of things, and it’s good sometimes! MC likes that he’s thoughtful, or at least she says that she does, and Yoosung tends to believe most of the things she says. She’s a very honest person. She has no reason to lie to him, and Yoosung has no reason to believe she would lie to him.

No reason.

At all.

Except, well, Yoosung is still a victim of his own insecurities, and though he has confidence in MC’s honesty, there is some small part of him that thinks she could just be saying things to avoid offending him. And as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he regrets it. This was supposed to be a fun day, and his brain just had to inform him that he’s a terrible boyfriend who has no idea what he’s doing—

“Hey,” says MC. “Look at me.”

Yoosung is torn away from his thoughts, which is a very welcome thing, at the moment. “I’m looking,” he says.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” replies MC. “Because I can tell something is, and I want to help.”

“Nothing! It’s nothing—why would anything be wrong? Maybe you’re thinking too much. Maybe—” he stops. “Okay, yes, something is wrong.”

“And what is that?”

“I want, to, uhm,” Yoosung stops. For a second he thinks, this is going to be so awkward; but then he meets MC’s eyes again and she’s not judgemental in the slightest, and it kind of dawns on him that he’s worrying about nothing. “I want to kiss you.”

Okay. Still awkward, and every second he spends marinating in that awkwardness is another second wherein he wants to call this whole thing off and try again another time, like when you fail a level in a video game and load at the last safe checkpoint.

MC blinks, and then she goes a bit pink in the face. “Oh! Is—is that all?” she says, trying to maintain her cool. Yoosung says ‘trying’ because it’s clear that she’s just as embarrassed as he is, which is actually very reassuring. He isn’t alone in all of his overthinking and insecurity.

He nods, and MC meets his eyes before looking down at her feet. “I think,” she starts, lifting her eyes to meet his again, “that is a very fixable issue.”

Yoosung is pretty sure he undergoes a bit of a malfunction, for a quarter of a second—Yoosung.EXE has stopped working, would you like to restart or wait for him to respond? Apparently MC picks the second option, because then he says, “Okay,” and the second challenge arises, which is actually kissing her, rather than just thinking about it for longer than necessary. “Could you close your eyes?”

“Oh, you’re right! That’s a thing people do when they kiss,” MC jokes, “Imagine if they didn’t, though? Like, if we kissed and I was just staring directly at you.”

Yoosung feigns a frightened shiver, “That’s terrifying.”

“I know, right! It would be really funny, though. I should stop talking. I’m going to stop talking… now. Right now,” she stops talking, and Yoosung is semi-disappointed. He does love listening to her talk, but he also likes kissing her, which he can’t do while she’s talking. Relationships are so hard.

He places one of his hands on MC’s shoulder, and he brushes the dark hair from her face with the other before leaning down to press a quick peck on her lips. Is it weird to be doing this in the middle of the sidewalk, in broad daylight? Yes. Does the joy of kissing her outweigh the weirdness? Absolutely.

When he pulls away, MC eyelids flutter open and she says, “I love you,” and Yoosung’s heart flips. Her face goes red and she adds, “Well! Nice exchange we had there. Good communication.”

“Yeah,” says Yoosung, before adding, “I love you, too. You know that, right?”

MC’s hands move to cover her face. “Yeah, I know,” she almost squeaks.

“What are you doing with your hands?”

“I’m smiling too much, and it would be embarrassing —”

“That’s not embarrassing! That’s cute!”

“Of course you think so!” MC says, and then she bursts into laughter and Yoosung follows suit. “I love you,” she says, the giddiness dripping off of her voice.

“I love you,” says Yoosung, and he means so much when he says it. He means it with his whole heart.

She walks closer to him, looks up at him and closes her eyes. They kiss again. This time, it’s easier. He can’t stop smiling.

Tip #2: Scheduling.

“Tuesday?”

“I have classes on weekdays. What about the weekend?”

“Don’t hate me, but I have to visit one of my friends over the weekend.”

“I couldn’t hate you for that!”

“I know, I know. I just—” MC groans, “I just wish I was free so I could see my boyfriend for once!”

“I wish I was free so I could see my girlfriend!” replies Yoosung, leaning back in his desk chair and looking up at the ceiling. He and MC have been on the phone for around ten minutes now, talking about this and that, but mostly trying to set up their next date. As it turns out, they’re very busy people.

It goes on like it has for a little while. As it stands, the two of them are pretty busy for the month, and the days where one of them isn’t busy are days where the other happens to be busy. It’s very inconvenient. Yoosung has school, which he might have been okay with putting aside in the past, but now he’s trying to do better and ready himself for the future and all of that other garbage. It’s a total bummer. If only past-Yoosung was the one with the girlfriend, then he’d have so much more time to hang out with her. Of course, he’d have remained game addicted and vaguely depressed, but whatever. You win some, you lose some.

MC, on the other hand, has an active social life in addition to the fact that she also goes to school, and the universe didn’t even have the decency to make them go to the same university. Truly, nothing in this world is fair. And, speaking of nothing being fair, Yoosung also has his extracurricular obligations. He may have cut down on LOLOL, but he has friends who he plays with from time to time, and he’d be remiss to flake on them; and then that’s not even getting into the activity meetings he attends at school.

“What if,” says MC, after a few minutes of contemplation, “I came to one of your meetings with the meteor study club? Or maybe I could get into LOLOL or something?”

“For real?” Once Yoosung manages to process the concept, he can hardly contain his excitement. “For real?!”

“For real!” says MC, “I mean, I already play a few video games, and it doesn’t seem that hard to get into. And the club meetings sound pretty cool!”

“They are! And LOLOL can be a little overwhelming, but if it’s just me and you and my group of friends it should be fine—” Yoosung cuts himself off, “I should get into the stuff you’re into!”

“Oh, it’s fine! I don’t wanna drag you into anything.”

Yoosung shakes his head, and then quickly realizes that he’s on the phone and MC can’t see him. “It’s not fair if you’re just getting into the things I’m into! And it’s really cool to think about us sharing interests and everything and—” he stops himself before he can ramble for too long, “I would be totally cool with it.”

MC is quiet for a moment, and then she speaks. Yoosung can tell she’s smiling. “Maybe you can visit my school, then. I’ll introduce my cool boyfriend to all of my friends.”

“And I’ll get to introduce my cool girlfriend to all of my friends! Well, I mean, you already know most of my friends because of RFA and everything, but the other ones! You can meet one of my LOLOL friends,” he says, “And you can meet my friends from school! They’re also pretty cool. You met Star through email for the party, actually!”

“I did! And, uh, sorry for the typing in the background. I’m trying to make a LOLOL account. Should I go healer?”

Okay, maybe this is stupid, but just hearing his girlfriend talk about trying out his interests is really, really nice. Everything is nice with her, but this especially. “I love you,” he says, dreamily.

“I mean, that doesn’t exactly answer the question, but you are killing me! You’re killing me dead!”

“With love?”

“With so much love! I’m getting overloaded. I’m going to shut down soon, like an overloaded computer.”

“Oh! That reminds me—do you have a desktop? I wouldn’t try installing the game on your regular laptop if you don’t. It might not run very well, and it could overheat your computer,” he stops, “I’m sorry, I’m getting over excited about this stuff.”

“Don’t be! I love when you’re excited. It’s very, very cute,” says MC.

“You’re cute!”

“No, you’ve already dominated the cute economy. It is shattering in your wake. You can’t take back the damage you’ve done.”

It goes on like that for a while, and Yoosung is eternally grateful that his girlfriend is as smart and funny (and cute) as she is, and that of all guys, she likes him! It really is a statistical miracle. Of all guys, MC is willing to make time for him. She’s willing to look into his interests to spend time with him. And she doesn’t get bored when he starts raving about that one time he built a gaming PC or how the LOLOL community is actually improving now that it’s becoming more popular—she doesn’t mind any of that. She likes him, and not despite his interests or quirks, but because of them.

That’s never been anything Yoosung imagined for himself. It’s always been something he thought other guys got out of relationships; something that was reserved for those much more together than he was. Yet he is that guy, now. He’s the guy in the perfect relationship, with the perfect girl, which brings up the question…

What does she see in him?

Tip #3: Jealousy.

He starts thinking more heavily on this when he sees MC talking in the chatroom the next day. 707 is teaching her how to code, and it’s completely innocent—he knows nothing is going on—but his mind can’t help but wander.

Because, yeah, nothing is going on right now. Maybe nothing will be going on for a while longer, but what if? What if she slowly but surely begins to realize that Yoosung isn’t anything special, but the other guys in RFA are? Zen is an actor, and he’s popular with girls already. Mostly Jaehee, but other girls too. Jumin is almost comically rich, (like, the kind of rich where it’s represented in a cartoon as a pool of gold coins and extremely high bills) and he’s handsome and mature. 707 is funny and smart, and he and MC seem to get along really well. And Jaehee isn’t a guy, but she is intelligent and well put-together, which are things Yoosung has yet to fully achieve. (Well, he is intelligent. He has a million test scores from high school that tell him so, but he doesn’t know if any of that knowledge truly equates to the real world. It certainly needs some work, considering the last few years wherein he did nothing but play video games and slack off.)

So when he watches the chat pass by, and 707 talks about how nice it is to be a teacher and MC responds with a string of smiling emoticons, it kind of stings. Even when Yoosung knows it doesn’t mean anything. Even when he knows that nothing would ever happen—there’s something about his own insecurity that always gets in the way.

This dreadful thought passes into the next day, and Yoosung and MC are going on a date—MC is coming to one of the meteor study meetings tonight, and it’s actually a really special meeting. Apparently it’s expected that the stars will be much more visible today than they are normally, so they’ve a stargazing event in the park. Some of the club members bring telescopes and beach blankets to sit on, and the park is really pretty in the day already, so Yoosung is pretty excited to see it under the moon and starlight. It sounds really romantic, and it definitely would be, if not for the myriad of baggage he’s bringing to it.

And he knows that it’s stupid. He knows the jealousy is an ugly emotion, and that MC would never hurt him in any way. He knows that, and yet he still feels like this, and he feels kind of pathetic for that. The thought pesters him throughout the day with MC, and she seems to notice his irritation.

“Babe,” she says, and that’s almost enough to make him drop all hostile emotions, because that’s a pet name and she said it so casually—but then he thinks about how one day, she could call someone else babe, and he mentally damns himself for ruining such a cool moment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You aren’t fine! You said ‘I’m fine’ in a very not fine way.”

“I’m fine, really,” says Yoosung, and MC narrows her eyes at him, but she seems to let it go. They talk about other, more casual things. For a moment, it seems like all of his previous worries can just melt away.

Except, then MC’s phone buzzes, and all of that bitterness floods right back. Apparently Yoosung doesn’t do a very good job of hiding his stupid, terrible jealousy, because MC recognizes that something is off as soon as she looks at him.

“Seriously, Yoosung, what’s wrong?”

For a moment, he loses himself and says, “I don’t know, why don’t you ask Seven—” and then he cuts himself off, immediately realizing how impeccably wrong that statement was, “Oh, God. I’m sorry, I just—” he inhales, and he looks down at his feet.

“Yoosung, it’s fine,” MC puts a hand on his shoulder, “What’s bothering you about Seven?”

“Nothing! I’m just—I keep feeling—augh,” he groans, “I’m jealous. And I keep feeling jealous, all the time, even when I know it’s dumb!” There’s a moment of silence that passes, and every second is one where Yoosung worries that he’s ruined everything.

“It’s not dumb, it’s natural,” reassures MC, “And you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“I mean, I know that, though,” he says, “the problem isn’t that I don’t think you’re faithful—I know you are. I just, I don’t wanna feel the way I do. I don’t wanna be that guy.”

“And you’re not!” says MC, “You didn’t get upset with me, aside from that one comment, which you immediately apologized for. You didn’t try going through my phone or tell the other guys not to talk to me or anything. You talked to me about it.”

“I—” he stops, “You’re being too nice.”

“I’m not! I promise, I don’t think any less of you for feeling that stuff,” she says, “In fact, I feel better that you at least talked to me about it. And, well, I’m gonna say something super embarrassing, so don’t make fun of me,” she inhales, and then starts, “I like you a lot, Yoosung, and I want you to talk to me about the things that you feel, because I want this to work. I want to be with you for as long as humanly possible, and I know that these things only work if we, you know, communicate.”

Yoosung pauses, and he looks at MC. He really is so in love with her. He’s in love with everything about her. Everything that contributes to her is something he’s in love with. And he could voice all of this, but then he’s suddenly very aware of tip #1 and, well.

“I love you,” he says, “Can I kiss you?”

“See! What’d I tell you about communication,” tries MC, her face quickly going red, “I. Um. Absolutely.”

They kiss, and it’s a soft, brief kiss that feels like it could last a lifetime. She threads a hand through his blond hair, and she says, “This is a really, really awkward thing to do at your stargazing event,” when they pull back and suddenly Yoosung is very aware of the fact that he and MC are in a public park with their other club members. Star, at least, is pretty understanding—as she seems to be squealing to someone else about this very private moment she just witnessed.

They kiss once more that day—well, that night. As the moon settles and the stars beam in the ink-dark sky, and he holds MC’s hand and points at the constellations, he meets her eyes and he realizes that he never needs to worry about anything, because they have it all together. They can learn as they go, and they can take those lessons and carry them over into every future issue. He thinks about these past few weeks, from the first text to now, and all of the problems they’ve encountered, and all of the solutions they’ve come to.

And in his heart he’s confident that they’ll do just fine.

[interrogatormentors]

Event Seven: Freezer Burn

Sleep came in fits and starts for the trainees, but they all snatched what little they could as their training continued. Despite this, they all spent the scant hour of free time the instructors allotted them in different ways. Zesaim studied, scouring books whose origins she refused to reveal for interrogation techniques. Rosmer baked in beakers, often coercing Sollux into using his psionics as a heat source. Ophlia worked out, Trisia ever by her side. Sollux himself dozed as he idly explored the limitations of his tablet, poking holes in the security to try and get his nose out for some news. Ualona often joined him, his maroon text a constant in the chat channels.

- actualizedClairvoyant [AC] has begun trolling twinArmageddons [TA]!-

AC: any progress on protecting a c-| |-annel? AC: avoiding mics is cool and all but w-| |-at if t-| |-ey are monitoring everyt-| |-ing we type? TA: no progre22 TA: they’re reportiing all thii2 2hiit two the empiire and the drone2ll be here iin liike two hour2 AC: D: TA: who do you fuckiing take me for ii’ve coded liike fiive proxiie2 iin the la2t ten miinute2 alone. AC: -| |-ell yeah! AC: so can you send me t-| |-at new installment of sunspots and starship -| |-eresy you found on the net t-| |-en because i kind of need somet-| |-ing to take my mind off tomorrow’s private training AC: i -| |-eard its gonna be some INTENSE friggin quizzes TA: god ii don’t want two enable you gettiing your globe2 off two helmiing porn you know that riight. AC: i mean AC: w-| |-en you put it t-| |-at way… TA: w/e iidgaf

-twinArmaggedons [TA] has sent file [kiinkyba2tard.xml]!-

TA: porn ii2n’t trea2on anyway we don’t need protected channel2 for that. TA: 2o who’2 goiing two be your traiiner tomorrow niight?? AC: that pozoia guy that oversees the p-| |-ysical training :[ AC: im freaking out!! -| |-es going to eat me alive! AC: w-| |-at about you? TA: rapard. AC: O-| |- S-| |-IT TA: w/e TA: he doe2n’t 2care me.

The next night when the morning alarms went off, however, Sollux hesitated as he squinted at his schedule for the day.

Sollux Captor: Report at Training Block A13 - Rapard - Dress Code: Swimwear

“Swimwear?” Zesaim’s puzzled voice came from her bunk just as Sollux read the words on his own schedule, and he looked over. “What happened to quizzes?”

“I don’t see how having a personal trainer’s going to help us swim better,” Sollux said, sitting up on the platform. “God, I don’t give a shit if I have to chase a wader through open sea, I’m drowning regardless.” He ducked, just in time to avoid a pillow getting thrown at him by Mercuo at terminal velocity. The seadweller glared at him from his bunk.

“You’ll need the fucking practice if you don’t want me to drown you,” Mercuo said, climbing down from his own bunk.

Sollux snorted, flicking Mercuo’s fin once with his psionics before stripping down. They filtered out to their assigned blocks after that, and it seemed the coolbloods didn’t receive any alteration to their dress codes for the day. Sollux found walking alone to a lesson disconcerting, and the halls seemed so much chillier and ominously dark without someone at his side. The faint fizzle of the lights above him served as the only background sound apart from the faint paps of his own bare feet on the metal tile.

He stopped in front of block A13 after a few minutes, looking up at the door. The metal seemed thick and reinforced, and a card reader sat adjacent to the heavy handle. A hand reached past Sollux, sliding a card into the reader and causing Sollux to jump. He hadn’t heard Rapard coming. “Quit flinching, helmbait,” Rapard said, hauling the door open. The door hissed, steam rushing out of the dark block in a billowing cloud. Sollux took a step, paused, and then moved forward only after Rapard shot him an unimpressed look.

The cold had given Sollux pause, an almost physical wall of frigid air that only intensified as the door behind him closed with a heavy thud. For a brief moment only the natural illumination from Sollux’s own eyes cast any sort of light, before a single, dim bulb on the ceiling flicked on. It didn’t really help. A metal chair stood fixed in the middle of the room, and Sollux felt a prickle of fear skitter up his spine as he spotted manacles on the armrests and near the legs. “What kind of quiz--”

“Emotional endurance is the topic today,” Rapard said. He gestured towards the chair, one eyebrow arching up. “I don’t have all night, recruit.”

Sollux gritted his teeth, glancing from the chair to the door and back again. Rapard stood between him and the door, and somehow he doubted he could overpower a fully matured seadweller in such a cold environment. Sollux’s own limbs felt stiff, and his teeth already chattered. He had his pride, but he also had an ounce of self-preservation in his bones. He sat down in the chair, jerking away too slow to avoid the manacles snapping shut around his wrists and ankles.

“I get the physical training, I get the mediculler shit, but what the fuck is up? Sir,” he added at the expression on Rapard’s face.

“How slow do I have to speak to drill something through your pan, recruit?” Rapard said, starting to pace, a shark circling through icy waters. “Welcome to emotional conditioning. The goal today is to learn control. The moment you emote, your quarry loses faith in your resolve to hurt them.” Rapard stopped off to Sollux’s left, shifting his weight from left to right before settling back on his heels. His expression remained as blank as ever. “This also serves as a practical demonstration of your schoolfeeding. Recap what you learned about temperature moderation and interrogation, grublet.”

Sollux took a breath, trying to settle the sparks already settling around his hornbeds that had triggered out of anxiety. “Temperature. Short-term temperature shifts out of habitable zones can lower reaction time and inhibitions. Long-term it can influence the immune system and wear a troll down.”

Rapard snorted, reaching into the breast pocket of his uniform and pulling out a small remote. He pressed a button, and fans lining the walls kicked on with a furious intensity. Sollux yelped, turning his face away from the sudden blast of cold air smacking against his face. “Temperature drop, two degrees,” Rapard said. “Watch those sparks-- I can read you like a fucking book. Get it together.” He started pacing again, and Sollux tried to resist the urge to follow his movements with his head. “What temperatures can the average lowblood withstand?”

“Average?” Sollux worried his lower lip with his teeth, scrambling to answer ahead of Rapard’s impatience. “Hypothermia takes place at an internal temperature of 97 degrees, and we can survive with an external temperature of 140 with enough water.”

The fans whirred again, and Sollux gritted his teeth. “Watch those ears,” Rapard said. “In the interrogatormentors, your emotions are a weakness. If you can’t turn them off like the husktop you are, then what use are you? You can’t be caught at the mercy of your own instincts.” He shook his head, still pacing in a wide circle around Sollux. “What will affect a lowblood’s internal temperature more, cold air or water?”

Sollux faltered, looking up to the fans. Well, that seemed like the proper answer right there. He couldn’t think straight, really, his thoughts coming to him in sluggish waves as he shivered in his bonds. A red light blinked in the corner of the room, a camera watching this entire affair. What did they even need this footage for? “Cold air,” he said finally.

Rapard hummed. “Interesting answer,” he said. “This isn’t about the immediate effect, this is a matter of thermodynamics.” An odd click came from above Sollux, and he looked up just in time for a set of freshly revealed nozzles protruding from the ceiling to unleash a deluge of icy water. Sollux sputtered, gasping and choking against the spray. The water left him a shuddering mess, each breath an agony stabbing into his lungs.

“I gffkfk- got it,” he said, coughing hard. “Cold. Cold’ssss good.” His lisp had worsened due to the chattering of his teeth, and he found himself biting his tongue more than once. “Fuck. Fuck.”

The fans came to life again, and Sollux screwed his eyes shut. “You’re cursing out of an emotional response,” Rapard said. Sollux felt cold hands grasp his jaw, and he peeled his eyes open to meet the seadweller’s own. “Turn off your emotions, brat.”

Sollux took a breath as Rapard released him, schooling his response back. He tried focusing inwards, fixating on the thought of warmth, of his bunk and fresh food and summer nights. Turn it off, turn it off, turn the emotions off, think of something else. His expressioned slackened, smoothing out into an expressionless mask despite the way his muscles spasmed due to the cold.

The quizzing continued from there, and Sollux did his best to answer each question thrown at him. The temperature kept dropping despite his efforts, until he felt icicles gathering in his nose and his eyes felt swollen from how much tears streamed down his cheeks from the cold. The lesson continued even after Sollux started hacking blood onto his legs and the floor, his entire body quaking. He couldn’t hear his own voice. He didn’t even know what he said in response to Rapard’s questions, and he knew at least half of his answers were unintelligible. He couldnt even begin to imagine what warmth felt like anymore.

Eventually Rapard looked at his watch and hit another button, and the manacles around Sollux’s limbs popped open. Sollux couldn’t have moved if he tried, and it took careful prying and warm water to loosen him from his quite literal frozen position in the chair. Sollux struggled to remain conscious as Rapard swung him over his shoulder, gasping as they emerged into the relative heat of the outside corridors.

Rapard deposited Sollux into a communal block, into a flock of suffering recruits. To the left side of the room, where Sollux tumbled onto the ground, lowbloods clustered around each other in bundles of blankets, heated mats underneath them. To the right, highbloods all seemed intent on drowning themselves in ice baths. Sollux couldn’t bring himself to move, and remained face down until he felt a blanket settling around his shoulders.

“Hey, Sparkles,” said a weak voice above him. Sollux looked up to see Trisia, her face flushed a brilliant teal and her dreadlocks hanging limply around her cheeks. “You look like shit.”

Sollux let out a ragged laugh, fingers curling around the edges of the blanket. “You do too. Did they stick you guys into an oven?”

He heard shuffling behind him then, and a sniffle. “I want to die,” Ualona said, voice very small. “They didn’t warn us it’d be like this. We’re the interrogatormentors, not- Why are they torturing us?”

The door opened again, revealing a petite purple with a massive collar of spikes framing the back of her head like a matured daywalker. She pushed a stumbling Ophlia into the room, tittering and wiping a little smear of purple from the corner of her own mouth before shutting the door. Sollux caught a glimpse of the back of her neck then, which revealed that the spikes were indeed protruding from her skin in a uniform circles of daywalker bruises along her spine. When Ophlia lifted her head, Sollux saw her ear was bleeding. Sollux swore, shivering. “This place is fucked.”

Trisia got up again, and Sollux heard her murmuring to Ophlia before supporting her up to an ice bath. Ualona scooted closer, and Sollux saw an ominous darkness to his nose and the edges of his fingers. “What did Rapard promise you?” he said.

Sollux tried to think of what Ualona meant, but nothing came to him. He only shrugged, his cheek pressed up against the floor. “Nothing. But I'm not waiting to find out what you're talking about,” he said. “Let the others know.” He closed his eyes. “We’re getting out of here.”

[quickeningheart]

Eighteen

   Charley draped her arms over the back of the sofa, sipping her coffee as she watched her cousin race back and forth, preparing for her first day of school. Vinnie sat beside her on the couch, and Modo and Throttle were in the kitchen, taking surreptitious glances around the doorway as they cleaned up the breakfast dishes. All three mice seemed completely mystified by Alley’s behavior.

    When she headed down the hall, abruptly stopped halfway, and turned around to make a beeline back to her bedroom, Charley couldn’t take it anymore.

    “Alley. Alley!”

    The frazzled blonde screeched to a halt, looking over her shoulder with wide eyes. “What?”

    “Will you please relax?” Charley held up her mug with a grin. “You’re makin’ my coffee very nervous.”

    Alley blinked, then broke into a sheepish grin of her own. “Sorry. It’s just … I’m nervous. And excited. And nervous.”

    “What’s the big deal?” Vinnie scoffed. “It’s just school. Ain’t that a normal thing around here?”

    “It’s not just school. It’s college. It’s like … like jumping from the little leagues straight into the big ones!” Alley protested.

    “That’s right, boys. Our little Alley has to put on her big girl panties now. She’s playin’ with the grownups,” Charley teased.

    “You, shush!”

    A pair of balled-up socks was launched her way, almost landing in the mug. Charley managed to catch them without spilling too much coffee, and tossed them back. “And why are you taking an extra pair of socks?” she asked curiously.

    Alley blinked down at them, then threw her arms into the air. “I don’t know!” she wailed as she stomped back to her room.

    Charley leaned her forehead against the couch and laughed.

    “Is she gonna be okay?” Modo asked with amused concern.

    “Don’t worry, big guy. First day jitters.” She offered a reassuring grin. “We all got ‘em. College is kind of a big deal, and I think her parents are expecting a lot from her, especially her mom.”

    “Did you attend college?” Throttle wanted to know.

    “Hmmm.” She finished off her coffee; Vinnie instantly got to his feet to fetch her a refill, and she offered a grateful smile along with the mug. “Sort of,” she replied to Throttle’s question. “I graduated high school a few years ahead of everyone else my age, and I took some courses at a local technical school, just to supplement my knowledge and get an official business degree. I’ve always known what I wanted to do, though, and I already had the work experience, thanks to my dad and uncle. So I never felt the need for the whole college thing like Alley’s doing. Still, I do know how it feels, moving out on your own for the first time and all. It is exciting, and kinda scary. Nobody’s there to hold your hand anymore, ya know?”

    “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll always hold your hand when ya need it.” Vinnie plopped down beside her, handing her the mug and taking her free hand to press a soft kiss into her palm. His red eyes glowed with impish humor as she blushed at his charming actions. Throttle and Modo looked at each other knowingly and grinned.

    Alley made a reappearance, dragging a large, rolling backpack behind her that looked a bit like a miniature, bag-shaped version of her van. She set the gaudy pack by the stairway.

    “Are you bringing your entire library?” Charley asked, amused.

    “They’re my textbooks. And my computer.”

    “Do you need all the books? That’s a lot of extra weight to drag around. What classes do you have today?”

    “Lessee … Schedule…” Alley frowned. “Schedule…?” She patted herself down, eyes widening. “Schedule!” She turned on her heel and made a mad dash for her room, much to the amusement of her audience.

    “Girl’s gonna give herself a stroke before she makes it out the door,” Throttle observed with a chuckle, shaking his head.

    She reappeared with a thick yellow envelope and her phone. “I need a favor. Can someone take my picture? Mom demands pictures of my first day. I’ll never hear the end of it if she doesn’t get any.” She offered the phone with a pleading expression.

    Laughing, Charley held out her hand, but Throttle intercepted. “Stand with her. I’ll take one of you together,” he said.

    “Great idea!” Alley grabbed her cousin by the arm and hauled her to the bare wall. “Say cheese!” she teased, giggling at Vinnie’s snort.

    Charley stood stiffly and managed an awkward smile, clearly not used to being in front of a camera. Alley, on the other hand, snapped off a playful pose, flashing a double thumbs-up with a brilliant grin, hamming it up with practiced ease. The flash went off, and she relaxed, accepting the phone from Throttle. “Thanks!” She studied at the picture. “Hey, this thing has a great camera. Charley, why do you look constipated?”

    “Oh, shut up.” The mechanic laughed as she delivered a playful shove.

    “Is someone honking outside?” Modo rumbled, head cocking to the side as he listened. They fell silent, and in another moment, the faint sound of a car horn drifted in through the open window.

    “Oh! That must be Chex.” Alley slipped the phone into her pocket. “She’s giving me a ride to the campus today since we have some of the same classes.”

    “Not Chris?” Charley slid her a coy glance.

    “I think he would’ve, except Chex beat him to it,” Alley replied with a laugh, hoisting the heavy bag onto her shoulder.

    “That was nice of her.”

    “Nah. She only offered ‘cause she’s hoping I’ll convince one of you guys to give her a ride on your bikes.”

    They all stared at her. She flashed a hopeful grin. “Just one? Doesn’t have to be far. Around the block, even. Oh, and when I say ‘one of you’, I’m pretty sure she means you, specifically.” She turned her smile on Modo, who straightened at the sudden attention.

    “Why me?” he asked, confused.

    “Oh, I dunno. Maybe ‘cause you saved her life? And she’s got a serious case of hero-worship as a result?”

    He looked flustered as Throttle and Vinnie snickered behind his back. “I’ll, uh, think about it.”

    The horn sounded again, sounding even more impatient. “Alright, I’m comin’!” Alley huffed to no one in particular as she bounded down the stairs.

    The four of them stared after her for a moment, before Charley sniggered. “So,” she began amicably, “bets on how long it takes her to figure out she’s not wearing shoes?

     ~*~*~*~*~

    “You’re such a blonde,” Chex snorted as Alley slid into the passenger seat of the little, silver-blue Accent (after scrambling back up the stairs to retrieve her shoes amid hoots of laughter from the peanut gallery).

    “Yeah, yeah. Just drive,” she grumbled, hauling her heavy pack into the car with her. “Sweet little ride, by the way. I sorta figured you'd drive up in a hearse or something.”

    “Don't I wish.” Chex pulled a face. “The step monster gave it to me. Said I needed a reliable car that’s good on gas mileage.”

    “She gave you a car?”

    “Yeah, she’s the type who likes to buy her way into the hearts of children.” Chex sniggered. “Hey, a free car is a free car. I just make sure I park it way back so people don’t see me in it. It totally does not fit my image.” She was silent a few minutes, before sliding Alley a sideways glance. “Sooooo … did you ask ‘im?”

    Alley laughed. “He said he’d think about it. Keep badgering him; I think you’re wearing him down. He's not the type to turn down a lady's request.”

    “Sweet.”

    “Oh, yeah! I almost forgot. Since we were speaking of step monsters, Chris said yours works a lot with jewelry appraising and stuff. Do you think she could help me and Charley out? We got some antique jewelry and loose gems and wanted to try and sell ‘em, but we need to know the value and find buyers and stuff.”

    “Yeah? What do you got?”

    Alley opened the front pocket of her bag, withdrawing the sapphire and diamond necklace Stoker had left behind. “Here’s an example.”

    Chex’s eyes widened as she took a good look; quickly turned her attention back to the road when someone honked loudly. “Holy shit, is that thing real?”

    “As far as I know.”

    “Where’d you get it?”

    “It was a gift from Stoker.”

    “Some gift! And you say there's more?”

    “Yeah. I guess precious gems and stuff aren't worth much to the mice. Stoker got what he needed from 'em—like the gold and most of the diamonds—and handed the rest over. Good thing, too, 'cause Charley could really use the money they'd bring in.”

    “She in trouble or something?”

    “Or something. Can't really talk about it. But do you think your step-mom could help out?”

    “Yeah, sure.” Chex shrugged. “I guess you can try and arrange a meeting with Victoria. I’ll give you the number to her office and tell Chris to let her know you’ll be calling. She'd probably be more open to helping if the request comes from him. She doesn't like most of my friends.”

    Alley didn't quite know what to say to that. “Well, thanks, that’ll be really helpful. I'm sure Charley and the guys'll be grateful, too.”

    “Cool. Think it’ll earn me some points toward scoring a ride?”

    Alley laughed and rolled her eyes.

     ~*~*~*~*~

    Chex showed Alley the most direct way to get to the main campus through Chicago, warning her to leave at least two hours ahead of time to avoid any potential delays such as mid-town traffic jams. Most of the professors did not take kindly to tardy students, and wouldn't let her into the class if she arrived late, no matter what sort of excuse she had. Luckily, they had no such issues and made it to the campus with plenty of time to spare. They parted ways in the parking lot with promises to meet for lunch, as their first classes were in different buildings. Alley used the opportunity to give herself another lightning tour of the campus; now that the maps had all been switched back to their proper places, it was much easier to figure out where she was. She also made a mental note to check out the secondary campus in the middle of the city, where her first business classes would be held the following day.

    However, it shortly became apparent that she wouldn't be taking those business courses any time soon. Or any of her other courses, for that matter. No sooner had she signed in on the roster and chosen a seat, the young student assistant taking attendance called her back to the desk.

    "Sorry, Miss Davidson, but your name isn't on my list," he began, his bored tone suggesting that this wasn't the first time he'd had to make this announcement to a new pupil. "This is Music Composition 101. Check your schedule."

    Alley clenched her teeth, annoyed by the insinuation that she'd gone to the wrong class. "No need. I know my schedule," she replied with as much politeness as she could muster. No need to take it out on him; he was just doing his job, after all, and she didn't doubt he'd already had to send other students on their way to the correct classrooms. But she wasn't one of them, darn it!

    At his obvious skepticism, she pulled the thick envelope from her bag and riffled until she found her schedule, handing it over with pursed lips. "Right there.” She tapped the page. “Music Composition at ten o'clock. Room 317."

    He glanced over it, handed it back with a shrug. "Must be a scheduling error. You'll have to take it up with the office." He went back to his roster, a clear dismissal.

    She stared at him. "What, you mean … now? But class is about to start!"

    He shrugged again. "Sorry, but the rules are if you're not on the roster, you can't attend the class. Better get it figured out and make sure there aren't any other conflicts." Seeing her expression, he softened. "Look, Professor MacDougall is running late today. Her kid has an ear infection or something and her nanny just quit on her. I'm taking over for her until she can get here. The class lasts two hours. You can probably get it sorted in more than enough time. Come back with a note from the office, and I'll let you sit in the remaining time. If Professor MacD shows up, I'll explain the situation."

    "Yeah, okay. I'll do that." Alley wasn't very happy with the solution, but at least he was trying to help. She hoisted her heavy bag and started for the office, grumbling to herself. What a way to start off her college career!

     ~*~*~*~*~

    "What do you mean my scholarship's been revoked?"

    Alley gaped at the secretary, wondering if she'd started hallucinating for some reason. Delayed effects of Stoker's miracle cure, by chance? She would skin that mouse alive when she saw him again!

    The secretary—Her name was Mary, Alley recalled—was clearly uncomfortable with the conversation, tapping away at the computer and nervously adjusting her wire-framed glasses. "Um, you see, there has been some discrepancy with your SAT scores—"

    "What kind of discrepancy?" Alley growled. "I passed those tests with more than enough points to earn my scholarship! I studied my ass off to get those scores!"

    "Please lower your voice, Miss Davidson." Looking distressed, Mary adjusted her glasses again. "You see, I am very sorry, but there appears to be some … concern over how you … acquired your high scores."

    Alley's eyes narrowed. "I. Studied."

    "Are you certain that is the only way you passed?"

    She felt like she'd just been kicked in the gut. "Are you actually accusing me of cheating?"

    Mary cleared her throat. "Please, lower your voice," she repeated, more firmly. "The fact is, through most of your academic history, your scores have always been … less than spectacular." She adjusted her glasses yet again; Alley was sorely tempted to rip them off her face and stomp on them. "Yet you managed to pass your SATs with scores that put you within the top fifteen percent of the entire country. That is no simple feat. You must realize how … suspicious it all looks."

    "Slacking off does not make me a cheater," Alley hissed. "I was just lazy. I never cheated on anything in my life! And I'll have you know that in my last two years, I completely turned it around, got As and Bs in all of my classes. Or does that not count for anything?"

    Mary pursed her lips, then calmly swiveled her computer monitor until it faced Alley. Puzzled, she gave it a cursory glance. And then her jaw dropped as what she was seeing registered.

    It was her permanent school record. Only it wasn't. All four of her high school years were displayed clearly on the screen, except that for two of them, the high scores that should have been there seemed to have been replaced with grades that could only be described as abysmal. Even her art and writing classes—her favorite subjects in school—barely covered passing ground.

    "Are you kidding me?" she screeched, ignoring the secretary's glare. "With scores like that I wouldn't have even passed high school, much less made it into college!"

    "Yes, that is exactly my point," Mary replied primly.

    Alley massaged her temple, where a headache was steadily forming. "And you seem to be completely missing mine," she growled. "Those are not my grades. I've been … set up or something!"

    "Why would anyone set you up?" The secretary looked more than a little skeptical.

    "I don't know!" Alley threw her hands into the air. "Maybe some bored student decided to play a mean prank and picked me at random. It happens, right? That thing with the maps? And it's not like computers can't be hacked or anything!"

    "Our system security is top-notch. Not just anyone can break into it." Mary looked offended at the very suggestion; Alley decided that mentioning how easily her cousin could probably break in wouldn't really help her case at the moment.

    "Then it's some bizarre glitch in the system," she muttered, struggling to think of any answer. "I took those tests a year ago. If I'd really cheated, wouldn't someone have figured it out way before now? I mean, I was in here with the dean's kids last week filling out forms! Remember? Why didn't you bring up this situation then? It sure would've saved me a lot of hassle now."

    Finally, a hint of doubt in the secretary's eyes, before her expression firmed. "I am very sorry for all of this trouble, Miss Davidson. I promise I will look into the matter and see if it can be resolved in a satisfactory manner."

    "And what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Can I go back to class?"

    "I'm sorry, but that just isn't possible at this time. As I said, your funding has been revoked. All of your classes have been canceled. Until this situation is resolved, policy states that you cannot attend this school."

    Alley started to panic. "But keeping my scholarship depends on me maintaining my grade point average! If I can't attend those classes, I'll flunk out by default, and I'll lose it all anyway, even if I manage to get it back! It could take weeks to get it all sorted. It'll all be for nothing!"

    Mary was sympathetic but unwavering. Alley realized she would be getting no more help out of her, turned and trudged from the office as the churning mass of dread, confusion, and defeat sat like a sick lump in her gut.

    All she could think of was how in the world she was ever going to explain this to her parents.

Next

[glowstickhaloboy]

AU where jack is a librarian and bitty accidentally studies

jack loves books. bitty hates studying.

but bitty needs to try something, bc whatever hes doing now is not working, and finals are coming up, so he thinks maybe if he gets some silence and solitude things he needs to know will start sticking

so he goes to the library and lo and behold theres an adonis behind the counter with a pencil tucked behind his ear as he intently reads a biography on Joan of Arc. bitty hears his conscience speak to him in beyonces voice, telling him that this boy is his

but hes a nervous wreck now that he knows theres someone hot here so yeah hes definitely not getting any studying done

except the cute boy doesnt even look up, and bitty remembers that hes probably straight anyway because thats the way the universe likes to be, so he keeps his head down and makes his way to an empty table (but he chooses one that keeps the cute boy in sight, and he isnt sure if thats because he is a masochist or isnt one)

he does his best to vibe this guy, who only looks up from his book when someone comes to check out or ask for the bathroom key, and bitty decides that hes gotta play it cool. that boy likes knowledge, so bitty will have to pretend that he also likes knowledge and isnt absolutely boy crazy, so he opens his textbook and gets down to business, hoping that that cute boy will look over at least and notice how studious this southern young man is

and almost three hours passes where bitty actually studies. he looks at his phone and realizes what hes just tricked himself into doing. he checks back on the cute boy, who is looking at him holy hell it was only for a second and then he quickly looked at his book again and relax eric relax he was probably just zoned out and happened to be staring at your face but maybe he could also sense how good you are at making pies and is deciding whether or not your boyfriend material

its already been three hours, but bitty definitely cannot leave now that developments are taking place

but its only fifteen more minutes before someone else shows up and takes the cute boys place behind the desk. the cute boy walks into the back and comes back with a jacket slung over his shoulder. “see ya, chris,” he says, and bitty wonders if hes being loud enough for his voice to carry on purpose, and when cute boy leaves, bittles insides all start screaming and he wonders if hes being blessed or punished because that boy must do squats or something.

bitty plays it cool for another half hour after that, because he cant look like he was only here because that cute boy was, but hes really only on twitter now. then he packs up his bag and spends the entire walk back to his room thinking about the moment he glanced up and the cute boy glanced down.

and he comes back the next day. bittle may play the slow game, but he has to see where this is going. day one, a glance, and maybe if hes really lucky, by day two he might get a pleasant “good afternoon. welcome to the library.”

he doesnt. he walks right in and sits in the same spot as yesterday, and the cute boy is reading the same book, but bitty tries to keep his face controlled, because this time cute boy looked up as he came in, and unless bittle was reading too much into it, cute boy looked down again as though this wasnt supposed to mean anything, like that was what he wanted bitty to think, but secretly it did.

they continue like this for two weeks, and eric is blessed to discover that the cute boy works a four hour shift every single day. which means theres never a day bittle has to miss out on seeing his sculpted-by-the-gods face.

and then valentines day rolls around.

bitty wonders what in the world am i doing so often while he bakes on february 14th that he knows he has lost any semblance of self-control

he walks into the library thinking the exact same thing, and of course, theres the cute boy, who has moved on to reading an account of the cuban vie for independence from spain, and for the first time, bitty actually approaches the counter

“um, hi,” he says, slightly breathless from the cold, and the cute boy looks up and smiles and says “hi” back. bitty has to ignore his pounding heart and continue on with the words hes been rehearsing since he turned the oven on.

“so, ive been spending a lot of time in the library recently, and i bake a lot, and since today is valentines day, i thought it would be nice to make these cookies for everyone today, so would it be alright if i left these on the counter and people sort of just... helped themselves if they wanted one? i made a card to”

bitty reaches into the basket and holds up a card designed by his friend lardo that reads “happy valentines day! please take one (1)”

the cute boys smile widens, and he says, “yeah. wow, they look great!”

after all the work bitty put into making them, they damn well better. he hasnt worked this hard on a batch of cookies since he campaigned for ninth grade class president. still, he cant help but turn as pink as the frosting on them when the first thing this boy ever says to him is a compliment on his baking.

“its nothin’” says bitty, setting the basket down and stuffing his mittens into his pockets

the cute boy latches onto bittys damnable accent and asks with interest “where are you from?”

“oh, georgia”

“nice. im jack, im from montreal.” he sticks out his hand and bittys suddenly clams up with sweat. oh no this cant be a horrible first handshake, it needs to be warm and nice

bitty decides he has to keep the mitten on, though, because that could be considered cute, right? sweat definitely couldnt. “eric,” he says, and doesnt allow himself to think about the fact that hes just put a bright red mitten in an adonis’s hand. they both seem to be running out of charm, though, so bitty muddles through

“um, they might be a little frozen from the walk over, but they should be good in a few minutes,” he says, then scurries over to his table because two weeks is way too soon to start talking

he distracts himself with literature homework to try to forget what a darn fool he just made himself out to be, but he cant completely tune out the rustling coming from the front desk as jack makes a careful display out of bittles basket and card, even allowing it to block the laminated sign warning patrons the repercussions of keeping overdue books.

a few more students trickle in, and a couple of them go for the basket, and Professor Whitmond tromps in with his two grandkids, who leave covered in powder and sprinkles, but bitty exercises all of his willpower to block it out because he cant believe he did this

but he also wonders if jack is going to take a cookie. hes obsessed with the thought of it. he needs jack to eat one of those cookies and realize that bittle is not just a pretty face. bittles entire body is on high alert, praying for it.

and then it happens. jack reaches into the basket, pulls out a cookie, and takes a bite. bittle thinks, checkmate.

he notices jack glance over at him, and bittle is now confident enough that he chances a bright smile. those cookies are good. they would never have made it out of his kitchen if they werent his best.

jack points at the cookie, his expression one of utter astonishment, and mouths, these are amazing.

bitty raises an eyebrow. i know.

jack makes another expression of astonishment, then waves bitty to go back to his studying. bitty pretends to, but really, hes wondering if bringing in a batch of cookies every friday would be too much.

(he does it anyway)

fridays become the staple of his relationship with jack. bittle brings in a basket of cookies, jack says something that makes bittle wonder if hes flirting or teasing, and bittle feels satisfaction drop into his gut as jack helps himself to the first of the bunch. there has never been a day where every cookie is not eaten.

and then jack changes the schedule. bitty comes in on friday with his usual basket, and jack says, “Eric. I had a question.�� and bittles heart starts thumping in its stupid, traitorous way, and jack continues, “About these cookies...” and bitty thinks, oh great, theyre too much, hes only been pretending to like them for my benefit, enough is enough, “Would you mind making me a batch to send to Montreal? My parents want to try them.”

and bittys mind goes completely blank. Something about the way Jack says it completely straight throws bitty off guard. Because, yeah, hes caught on to the fact that Jack can be a bit socially awkward, but this definitely takes the proverbial cake.

“Your parents?” asks Bittle. “How do they know about my cookies?”

“I told them,” says jack, as if its obvious. “We call every friday night, and I always talk about your cookies.”

Bitty’s mind hurriedly re-writes his knowledge of the past few weeks to include the fact that Jack From The Library Has Been Speaking To His Parents About His Cookies And Now Jack’s Parents (IN MONTREAL!) Want To Eat Them.

“So, would that be too weird?” asks Jack.

“Not at all!” says Bitty, laughing slightly because hes terrified. “I can bring some in tomorrow if youd like!”

Its only when Jack smiles that Bitty feels relieved, like hes successfully navigated a minefield correctly. “Thatd be great!” says Jack. “I’ll pay you, if you want, to cover the cost of the ingredients-”

Bitty waves him away. “That’s not necessary, Jack, I’d love to.”

he goes to his seat and cuts his study time in half because he cant stop freaking out about making baked goods for jacks parents, who have never met him, and need to decide within their first taste whether bittle has any worth in their sons life

hes up half the night, and it definitely shows on his face when he brings into the library the next day. all he wants to do is say get them out of my sight.

jack accepts them with a confused look on his face, thanks bittle as bittle marches to his table and begins spreading out his books

oh yeah, and bitty has been getting weirdly good grades since all this started?? it turns out that bi-weekly flirting is the perfect reward for someone who needs to study more. his test scores have gone up dramatically, and even his GPA has gotten a modest boost.

thats only the secondary goal here, though, his real goal has always been getting jack to notice him

for three days, including baking night, bittle sleeps horribly, angsting over what jacks parents - whoever they even are - will think of his cookies. on monday, he gets his answer

“Eric!” jack greets as bittle walks into the library. hes smiling wide. “ive been told to tell you that youre moving to montreal to become my parents’ personal dessert chef.”

relief smacks into bitty like a forty-pound fist. he feels slightly whoozy. “they liked them?” he repeats.

jack just stares at him. “Eric. Have you ever had one of your cookies before.”

“No, I mean, well, yes, obviously I have, but it’s just that I’m always worried whenever new people try them that they’ll hate them, and since baking is the only thing I’m really good at, it’s important to me that people, you know, like my stuff.”

“Eric,” Jack says, for what feels like the thousandth time. “Everything you make is incredible. And baking isn’t all you’re good at. You study like a champion.” He offers Eric a fist bump.

Eric takes it for what it is, a sign of friendship, as he belatedly registers that Jack just called his baking skills amazing. Even if the boy is straight, he knows how to play Eric like a fiddle. And Eric is just gone enough to let it happen.

spring weather is finally setting in, and bitty starts to think about just how many days hes spent in the library this year, all so he can gawk at a boy he doesnt have a chance with. all this time, and he couldve been actually out there looking for someone who will genuinely be with him and make him happy.

he stops going to the library on a tuesday. by friday, he feels bad because the people on campus have come to expect his cookies every week, and he owes it to them to keep their stomachs satisfied with finals approaching. he makes a batch, not knowing what hes going to say to jack, or if jack will even care that bitty has been out by the pond enjoying his afternoons with his friends instead of hanging out inside.

he walks in with his basket, and jack seems to look both relieved and slightly cross. “Eric,” he says, because thats all he ever says. “You haven’t been here.”

Bitty shrugs. “I made cookies,” he says, and offers Jack the basket.

Jack’s brow furrows. “Is something wrong?” he asks.

“No,” says Bitty, which, because he doesn’t know what on Earth he’s feeling, is almost the truth.

Somewhat stunned into silence, Jack accepts the basket Bitty offers him and watches Bitty leave again. Bitty walks until he’s out of sight of the library, then sits on the nearest bench and wipes his eyes. He’s being ridiculous. There was literally never even anything between him and Jack. It was all made up in Bitty’s head, a fabrication based on a few standard conversations and lies garnered by baked goods. Maybe Bitty is crying because he’s such a fool. Why did he waste so much time on a needless fantasy? What was wrong with him.

“Well,” he mumbles to himself, standing. “At least your grades went up.”

this is the part where he looks up, hoping that jack might have followed him and was now waiting, out of breath, to say something meaningful and restore all of bitty’s hopes. but the sidewalk is empty, and bitty is left exactly like normal--creating a version of jack that doesnt exist based on the picture he has in his head

he goes back at the end of the day, when he knows jack will be gone, to collect his cookie basket from the library. a boy named chris hands it to him. “yeah, thanks for bringing these in today!” says chris. “the guy i work with seemed kinda down, so i think he needed a pick me up. i mean, he said that theyre for the patrons, but i got him to eat one, and i could tell he even felt better afterwards. theyre super good! i mean, i always ate them, i didnt know jack didnt, but-”

“thanks,” said bitty. he thought that if he didnt interrupt, this young man would never have stopped talking. “er, thats sweet of you.”

so for three weeks, bitty only comes in on fridays to drop off cookies. he and jack dont say a lot to each other. but as bittys mood steadily improves, jacks mood steadily worsens.

im healing, bitty thinks as he walks in on the third friday. that wasnt healthy, eric, it was sensible to get out of that.

“hey jack,” he says happily, setting the basket of cookies on the counter. “special delivery.”

jack squints at him for a moment, with a smile that seems more like a grimace. “thanks,” is all he says. he says it in a very particular way. flat. thanks.

bitty’s brow furrows. he thinks about asking, but he grew up in the hospitable south, where the popular motto was let everyone get on with their own business or get cussed out for pryin’. “um. youre welcome.”

he almost walks out, then shouts screw it! in his mind and turns around. “are you mad or somethin’?”

jack looks up as though feigning ignorance. all the lines on his face look hard. he sighs. “no, eric. its nothing to worry about. thanks for the cookies.”

“because my mama used to teach me lessons in passive aggressive bullshit when i used her pan sheets without askin’.”

“its nothing. its me. have a good day.”

“only she never tried to brush me off when i wanted to talk to her about it.”

jack considers him. “you dont come into the library anymore,” he admitted. “im not mad at you, im just... grumpy.”

bitty has to fight hard to keep his heart bolted down. he misses his friend, he tells himself. do. not. read. into. it.

“Oh,” says Bitty. “I, um. I didn’t mean to make you upset. Er. Have you been reading anything good recently?”

jack defrosts a little and they have a nice conversation about the true crime novel jacks gotten into. bitty feels a little bad for ghosting him, and maybe he misjudged things a little by saying there was nothing there, because hey certainly got along well, but he wasnt naive enough to think there was any use kidding himself about something romantic.

by the end of it, jacks laughing, and eric finds it in himself to giggle along too, and it feels like a nice resolution. maybe you cant have it all, eric thinks, but you can have this.

he bids jack goodbye, feeling better about the whole mess, glad that he said something.

at the end of the day, chris returns bittys basket, and bitty cant help but ask how jack was today. all chris says is, “Glowing.”

For the first time, bitty and jack run into each other outside the library. theyre at the campus coffee shop, perhaps both gearing up for finals week, and jack is leaving just as bitty is entering.

“Eric,” says Jack, genuinely smiling. Bitty’s smile is also completely real.

“Jack.”

“It’s weird, but it just kind of clicked for me that you’re a real person,” says Jack, then makes a soft face of pain. “I mean, obviously you’re a real person, but I’d only ever seen you at the library before. Now that we’re somewhere else-”

“I get it,” bitty assures him. “Are you working there next year, too?”

Jack shrugs. “Who knows? I’d like to, but someone with work-study might take my place. I’m always getting yelled at for reading when I should be re-shelving books. And I get cookie dust all over the counter on Fridays.”

Blushing, Eric says, “That is entirely your fault and no one else is responsible for that.”

“Not at all.” He’s still smiling, which Bitty thinks is ridiculous. “Are you doing anything right now?”

Bitty gestures to the line ahead of him. “Buying coffee,” he says.

“Anything else?” Jack clarifies. Bitty shakes his head. “I’ll wait with you. We can sit down and drink it together.”

He has to know what he’s doing, Bitty thinks. Once again, blind hope fills his chest and Bitty says, “Sure. That’d be nice.”

by the time their cups are drained, theyre too deep in conversation to move. when a pause comes, however, jack clears his throat. “Um. Actually. Eric. I, um, just wanted to clarify something, because I think I didn’t before.”

Bitty sighs dramatically. “I knew it. You’re using me because your parents want more cookies.”

Jack’s laugh is music for Bitty’s soul. “They seriously have not stopped asking about you since I sent those cookies. I didn’t know what to say to them when you stopped coming to the library.”

Bitty turns a little quieter. “Sorry about that,” he says. not because he feels sorry for not going, but because hes sorry that jack was hurt because of it.

“It’s okay, Eric, really,” Jack says, and hes so earnest that bitty believes he means it. “Anyway, what I wanted to say was, I think I didn’t clarify that when I asked you to sit down. You know. With our coffees. I sort of intended that to be. You know. Asking you out for coffee. Because I think you’re great.”

Bitty’s heart starts beating triple-time. His eyes turn to saucer plates. “This entire time, I was trying so hard to convince myself that you would never be into me!” he all but shouts. “I couldn’t deal with having a crush on a straight boy so I avoided the library like the plague.”

Jack blinks. “I never told you I was straight, Eric.” It’s not a reprimand, but it also totally is. Bitty puts his head in his hands.

“I thought I was being a fool for one thing,” he says, “but I was being a fool for something else entirely. I am so sorry, Jack.”

“You could make it up to me by letting me buy your coffee next time.”

Eric peeks at him through the gaps in his fingers. “Don’t try to fool me into thinking you’re smooth, Mr. Zimmermann. I know you too well.”

[lukeysgirl]

The Note Tree ❋ L.H. Pt.11

Part E L E V E N 

Summary: A cherry blossom tree, residing at the farthest part of the schools courtyard. Nobody dwelled there, and you didn’t care much for it. Until you kept hearing one song played over and over, with lyrics changed to touch at your curiosity. They knew you were listening, and one day you gave in and made your way to the pink tree. Waiting for you, a series of notes tied to a single strand of string.

Word Count: 7k+ (jesus wtf)

AN: VERY IMPORTANT GUYS: this might be the last part i release before i enter uni and find myself incredibly busy with class so i am so fucking sorry for that. i wish i could keep writing this consistently and finishing by maybe november but it might be a little longer than that. to those who love TNT: ya’ll are amazing and im so grateful for all the support and love ive gotten for it. im also just so sorry to disappoint, and will try my best to update them as timely and well-done as i may xx 

Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.

I M A G I N E 

Thursday - Frozen Day

“You’re so careless!” Savannah lectured, tapping your head in scolding while you sat there and took it. 

For the trip, the teachers had forced all the seniors into the gym at the very moment everyone stepped into the school. The gym, though newly renovated and shiny, was disgusting. The glossed, light-brown (wooden) planks of the floor were ornate with splotches of dirt, dust, and residue of athlete sweat. There were several basketball hoops around, with two scoreboards on the width sides of the gym. Those black scoreboards were off and collecting cobweb with the ceiling emitting super white lights down to practically blind you. 

But that was the least of your worries. 

“Des, if you keep offering me your breakfast burrito, I’m going to bash my head against the wall,” you huffed under your breath, having Des continue to wiggle the said food in front of you. You and the girls were huddled in a corner, with you in the very corner, slung down and allowing your large Thrasher sweatshirt to swallow you. Des had been to your right, sitting in a pretzel with Alexis to your left with her legs folded the same. Savannah sat like a princess, as she chose to wear this long, floral skirt because it matched with her beige crop top. 

“Have you eaten?” Des asked, completely skeptical of you. 

“Yes.”

“How can I believe you?” 

“By trust my word?” You suggested. You understood they were worried and you understand fully well how careless you are. But this was just absolutely uncalled for and unnecessary. “I ate a bagel with raspberry cream cheese and orange grove orange juice.” 

“It sounds like you went to Starbucks.” 

“I did.” 

“Bitch, with what money?” 

“Someone came in clutch,” you replied simply, not necessarily wanting to get too deep. Des stared at you wistfully before looking away, knowing you hadn’t want to say another word more. You looked over to see Alex begin braiding her long, brown locks and you began to randomly wander about Luke and how he dealt with his blonde hair. 

Does he wake up to it being messy? Or is it always curly when he wakes up? Can he put it upwards in some sort of quiff? Is it long enough for a man bun? Oh boy, why the fuck did you even care? 

What about Luke’s hair do you give a shit about? It aggravated you how much your mind played this useless games. Luke has somehow weaved himself into most things you look at. You see video games being broadcasted outside game shops and think about if he had an Xbox or a Playstation. Sometimes when you saw kids play little league sports at parks, you wondered if he’s played any real serious sport. Truth be told, it was bothering you and gave you a headache than you already get when you interact with said boy. 

“Seniors!” Announced a teacher at the dead center of the gym. You didn’t bother looking up, too exhausted to divert your eyes somewhere other than the ground. “If you’d like to see who chose you and your groups camp schedule, come on over!” 

Immediately, you heard people rise with feet dashing the glossed ground over to the center of the gym. A cheap plastic table was set up with folders of papers, likely the schedules and whatever the hell else the man was saying. You were quick to mute him out as you fiddled with your thumbs. You didn’t care enough to see what group or what the schedule was. You just wanted to get it over with. 

“I’ll get the schedule for you,” Alexis hummed, giving your shoulder a squeeze before your three companions rose from the ground and slowly made their way to the lines of students. You sighed, already bored to be in the gym, wasting time by sitting around and not even getting a wink of work. Of all things, you hated not being productive. 

“Y/N.” A familiar male voice sounded through, his figure casting a shadow over you. Being swallowed up by it, your eyes glanced up only to emit a deep sigh before diverting down to the glossed ground. 

“Go away,” you spewed, distaste already dancing on your tongue as Nathan took a seat beside you. You tossed a glance only to find Nathan swallowed up by navy blue sweats and some yellow shirt representing a college you couldn’t exactly make out from your angle. But aggravation soon drowned you as Nathan sat down in a pretzel and scooted closer to merely brush your shoulder with his own. “God, why me?” You breathed, looking up at the ceiling in hopes someone from the skies heard you. 

“You know Y/N, you can’t be cold like that forever,” Nathan pointed out, having you roll your eyes in how little you cared for Nathan’s words. “You might get denied form several jobs in the future if you’re that brutal.” 

“I’m only cold to you because you serve no benefit to me,” you said quietly. “If it’s an employer, of course, I wouldn’t act this way.” 

“You’re a breathing glacier with valid reason,” Nathan hummed, having you still stone-faced before Nathan flicked his wrist to present a sheet of paper to you. You looked at it curiously, taking it from him to read its contents clearly. “I found out what group you’re in, and I was hoping you could do me a favor so I can return a favor.” 

Your eyes dilated, seeing your leader assignment that was the one and only: Luke Hemmings. You figured you were going to be in his group, hence why you hadn’t bothered putting in the effort to beg to Ashton. But you had some hope that maybe one of the boys would give you a little sympathy, regardless of being Luke’s friends. Now you were to suffer greatly on a trip you initially wanted to bail on. 

“What gives you the upper hand to even ask that of me?” You grumbled, knowing as fact Nathan has some sort of ‘threat.’ 

“Are you sure your head didn’t fall on the floor?” Nathan hummed curiously, having you glare over at the chestnut-haired entity. “It seems your intelligence lost a few bolts.” 

“Fuck off and tell me what you’re trying to exchange.” 

“Well, I’m just gonna tell you what I want: to be in Lucas’ group,” Nathan began, having you raise your eyebrow. You weren’t gonna respond, assuming he was going to continue and hopefully finish. “Not only to be around you, but to make sure you’ll be okay.” 

“Oh, and you care over my well-being?” You began sarcastically. “Oh wow, you must think you’re such a good person for caring over a girl like me.” Nathan grinned at this, attempting to dismiss it with an unhurt smile. But you knew in the very curls of his lips the slight pang of pain from your cruel words. 

“I don’t trust that asshole taking care of you any better,” Nathan began quietly, his veined hands clenching onto his knees. “He’s gonna be responsible with 22 others to really dedicate time for you. You know this, Y/N.” 

“I don’t need people looking after me, alright?” You spat. “I’m 18, I’m responsible of my own damn self. Enough that I can take care of myself.” 

“Your nurse’s trip yesterday says otherwise,” Nathan contradicted in a hush tone. You flinched, refusing to meet his gaze as your eyes stared at the shining floor. If you could punch the boy, you would. “No sleep, no food, no water in your system? I dunno about you, but to me it seems like you can’t take care of yourself too well.” 

“Just shut the fuck up already,” you grunted, pulling your sleeves more over your hands as you tugged at them with your hands. “You don’t know shit about me.” 

“I know that your home situation isn’t great,” Nathan dared, having you close your eyes. Just go away, you thought. Just fucking get away from me already. “And if you think I’m being pushy, imagine how Luke would act if he knew.” Right then, your heart stopped, eyes wide and completely laid upon the chestnut-haired imbecile. 

“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” you growled. “You wouldn’t-- you said you were selfish, that you were glad Luke didn’t know.” 

“Well sure,” Nathan hummed as he leaned a little back. “But I see how Luke annoys you so I figured this exchange would be reasonable. I keep my mouth shut and you get the honor of having me have your back.” 

“I feel like I don’t win as much,” you hummed lowly, your eyes diverting up to study the mobbing group of students seeking their papers. For Nathan to keep quiet and keep Luke at bay, he’ll be in your group for the desire to be near you and watch over you. The entire situation was idiotic, you knew. But you would rather ‘burden’ Nathan with the responsible he refuses to believe he doesn’t have than Luke having it. You still disliked both, but your favoritism resided with Luke if ever the question was put out there. 

“It seems like you would rather much have me annoy you than Luke,” Nathan said with ease. 

“That still makes you annoying, dumbfuck,” you spat, rolling your eyes a bit as you emit a quiet yawn. This frozen day was finding itself to be worse than you honestly expected it to. But you glanced over to see Nathan muted, simply staring at you wistfully. Likely waiting for a response. “...But fine, Holland, okay. I’ll ask Luke. But if he refuses, that’s completely beyond me.” 

“Fair enough then,” Nathan dropped before rising to his feet again. You felt his shadow cast on you once again, his eyes down on you as well as you merely looked up at the boy. “But I do expect you to try, you know.” 

“Ha,” you uttered dryly, watching as he turned the heel and escaped towards the hoard of people. 

Boys are stupid. Boys are stupid and obnoxious, and absolutely one of the things that you didn’t need. You didn’t need anyone, really. But it was really heartwarming to have the girls you did have around. And, you suppose you could give some credit to Luke for being considerate, even when he’s annoying, flirtatious, unnecessary, and moronic. 

“Y/N, you are right!” Des chirped, having you look up to see the 3 infamous ladies return with their papers. She quickly dropped herself beside her, her braids bouncing from the impact as she showed you her paper. “I’m with Calum!” 

“And I’m with Michael.” Savannah mewled with a fond tone. “And Alex got in with Ashton.” 

“Told you guys.” You allowed those girls to sit back in their seats and exchange bubbly words about the plans and what not. You’ll be reading Luke’s group schedule later as you were growing a slow and steady headache. Nathan and this entire keeping a secret was bothering you. Not because you felt guilty about not telling Luke, but feeling like an idiot to have Nathan know at all. You feel more like an idiot to fill yourself up with such strong poisons and lose your mind. 

I should’ve just walked alone from the party, you hummed to yourself. Not even-- I should’ve just not gone. Stupid Luke and his stupid ‘I owe you.’ 

“Ah- I’m in Luke’s group!” A shrill scream suddenly popped you from your self-loathe and discipline to look up and see Nadia wave her paper around in the middle of the gym. Chatter quieted down from this but they still resumed as she flaunted it about to the girls around. And, hilarious enough, the girls’ shoulders drop in disappointment, seeing as they likely wanted to be in his group, too. You shoulders only fell because Nadia was stuck in your group and you really didn’t want to be anywhere near her. The thought even impulsed you to deflate her just a bit. 

“Nobody fucking asked,” you said firmly, loud enough for the words to wash everyone over like a wave. The quiet chatter soon became almost silent whispers as Nadia turned over to you. Her red hair danced from the very action, her entire body swallowed up by a pink-like beige sweater and a brown skirt. She glared down at you, her poppy seed pupils dilating by the small shock that it was you who uttered the words. 

“Look who’s feeling bold today,” Nadia hummed, her 1-inch heels clinking upon the shiny floor as she began making her way to you. You looked up at her, entertained a bit as her shadow was slowly arriving to cast upon you. “What’s wrong, sweetie? Did you not get into his group?” 

“Sorry to burst your ego, Princess,” you spat, opening your paper to break the air to show it to her. “But I’m also in his group. I don’t give enough of a shit, and you have no reason to brag because that’s just you among the other 10 girls with us. So sit the fuck down, alright?” 

A few ‘ooo’s sounded, pairs of wide eyes and surprised expressions floating in your periphery as you looked up at the redhead. She looked a bit embarrassed, her cheeks lightly tainted pink as she waved your paper away. You put it down and shrugged, looking away to see your girlfriends look at you with surprised, wide smiles. 

“You’d best watch your tongue with me, Y/N,” Nadia growled, gritting her teeth together as she leered down at you. “I’ll make your camping time a living hell if you say anything smart like that.” 

“More of a hell than the one I’m currently living?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise. You then chuckled, looking down at the paper loosely between your fingers with delirium. “I’d honestly give you an applause if you could manage that.” 

“Is that a challenge I hear, Y/N?” Nadia hummed, haivng you look up to meet her eyes. Hers were dim, but yours held a dark intimidation that made her eyes flicker with hesitance. But she seemed determined, more or less, to fuck up your time. Before you could counter, Des quickly rose and placed her hands on her hips. 

“Bitch, I dare you to try it,” Des huffed, a splash of attitude leaving her tongue. “You touch my girl at all during that trip and I’ll personally stick your ass up in a tree for an entire damn night.” 

“Great, don’t tell me the ape is in our group, too,” Nadia slurred dreadfully, having you widen your eyes as Des was pulling up her sleeve to pack in a punch. But Savannah and Alex quickly got on their feet and grabbed her before she could dare do a thing. 

“You better watch yourself on that trip,” Des growled. “I may not be in your group, but my ass will switch if I gotta punch you mute.” You chuckled, shaking your head at Nadia’s audacity. You leered up, seeing how she glared down at you as if you’ve done wrong. Quietly, you crumpled the paper and stuffed it in your bag before forcing it on and getting yourself up. 

“I do really feel bad for you, you know,” you hummed as teachers quickly began to rush over to the scene. “I understand that you genuinely need attention to live, and that’s something you can’t help. But I think you shouldn’t do it by picking at others. Especially people who aren’t afraid to give it to you, because I know Des will punch you to another reality. Unless you’re a masochist, then please, be my guest. Fucking swine.” 

“Y/N, out,” a teacher scolded, having you shrug as you sauntered away from the girls and Nadia to leave the gym. Which was fine with you, really, as you didn’t like the smelly disgusting gym to begin with. But when the teacher escorted you out, you met eyes with the control in your mind. You groaned, rolling your eyes in actual disbelief as you began walking down the corridor. “Console your group member, Hemmings.” 

“Will do, sir,” Luke replied, his voice growing distant as you stomped away. You weren’t agitated, you were just pretending to be. Nadia was annoying, but it’s difficult to set you on the edge of vexation as you kept marching away. You could hear Luke’s kicks jog on the floor as his hand made it to your shoulder. “H-hey, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, actually,” you hummed. “Just pretending to be mad so the teachers think I’m an angry, troubled child.” 

“Okay, but why were you sent out?” Luke asked, his hand still on your shoulder. You were waiting for him to force you to face him, but he didn’t. He just kept his hand there, probably one of the most gentlest gestures you’ve ever actually received by a boy. 

“Ah, it was all Nadia, truly,” you hummed, listening to Luke groan in disappointment. “She began flaunting over the fact that she was in your group, so I told her that nobody asked and so she came over and started something. It was only right for me to continue feeding her energy to strengthen her pettiness. It’s like an RPG, Luke. You only get stronger if you fight.” 

“Yeah, but you do learn better strategically if you pull back from fights that you don’t need to take on,” Luke replied, having you shrug. It was a fair answer, you had to admit that much. Not that you’d tell him though, or else you’d be feeding to his ego. And God knows inflating that ego only made you wither. 

“Anyways, we argued some, I said a few bad words, and now I’m out here,” you spewed simply. You then turned, looking up to see strong jawline, sharp nose, blue-eyed devil Luke Hemmings stare down at you worriedly. You actually flinched, unsure as to how to take this. He needn’t words to get your heart racing, and that was something you weren’t too down about at the moment. 

“You better not be like that on the trip,” Luke warned softly, having you raise a brow up at the blonde before you. “I put her in our group because I thought it would be good if you two tried to get along.” 

“Me get along with Nadia?” You asked in genuine astonishment. “Has the Devil split the ground in two and risen from the deep depths of hell? Has God finally descended from the clouds to tell everyone? What is this life?” 

“Y/N, I’m serious,” Luke insisted, his frown deepening as he led you over to lean on the cold, metallic lockers. “I doubt you want to graduate knowing you had a grudge on someone.” 

“I don’t have a grudge on that imbecile,” you huffed. “She’s the one being a bitch to me and the least I can do is defend myself. What gives her the right to be a cunt to me when I haven’t even done a thing to her?” 

“You’re rather cold to her, Y/N--.” 

“You mean the way I act to everyone besides Sav, Des, and Alex?” You spat, leering up at the blonde. Luke gulped harshly, quickly quieting down as your point evidently dissolved into him. “I don’t need to get along with Nadia because I don’t need her in my life at all. So don’t start forcing me to do something that neither I nor her want.”

“I just want to help you--.” 

“Want to help?” You spat immediately, having Luke flinch, his face paling up as he looked down at you. You blinked a few times, staring at him to allow the gears in your brain to turn. “Put Nathan in our group.” 

“What the fuck? No,” Luke immediately dismissed, having you scowl at him as he looked away, slightly vexed. There was something swimming in those ocean eyes, but you couldn’t really hint at it if they weren’t staring directly at you. “Absolutely fucking not.” 

“Excuse me, but I’d like to enjoy myself when we go to the forest,” you hummed. “I want him to swat away all the mosquitoes, or get stung by them instead of me. I’m sorry, but rashes aren’t my thing.” 

“I can do that for you!” Luke insisted. 

“You’re the leader, dumbass,” you huffed, shoving his chest gently. “They need to make sure you’re fine and running well-- you can’t be holed up taking stings for me. Just let Nathan do it so I come back rash-free.” 

“Y/N,” Luke growled. “He’s a nasty person, I don’t want him in my group spreading his bullshit around.” 

“He’s going to be pining over me, he’s not going to be spreading no bullshit.” 

“That makes me more adamant, Y/N,” Luke huffed, rolling his eyes while still refusing to face you. You sighed, annoying that you were forced to actually put in a good amount of effort into getting the other vexing person in your group. Clenching the hold of your bag, you rolling your eyes and stomped your foot. 

“Why do you even hate the guy?” You began. “Your jealousy over him is invalid, so something has to give. Why do you hate Nathan?” 

Luke tried to emit something in response, but found himself frozen and speechless. His upper, pasty cheeks tinted a light pink as he dragged his tongue along his rouge lips. You could see how hesitant his was, the distance in his eyes indicating how rapidly he had been thinking. They were even getting clouded before he crossed his arms over his chest in distress. 

“That’s not important right now,” Luke muttered sheepishly. 

“Right, okay,” you sarcastically replied, somewhat in disbelief from Luke’s stubbornness. “Just get him in our team.” 

“Or else what?” 

“Or else I’m going to tell you to fuck off the entire trip,” you threatened, having Luke’s eyes divert to yours (finally) to flare up in jealousy. “I’ll ignore you when we have breaks for chat, sit as far away from you during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and I won’t be bidding you goodnight before I sleep.” 

“Cruel!” Luke blurted, obvious pain dancing in his face as you shrugged. He knew he couldn’t test you, you’d keep your promise in your words. That’s just who you were, even if you didn’t exactly want to avoid Luke. His shoulders slumped, his blue eyes losing its color for a moment before letting out a strangled sigh. “Fucking fine, I’ll transfer him.” 

“Wait, seriously?” You hummed in disbelief, looking up to see disgust in his face as he nodded slowly. You swallowed, mouth a little dry as you chewed on your inner cheek. “Well shit, okay.” 

“But I’m never leaving you two alone,” Luke huffed angrily. “I don’t trust Holland, and I swear if he does anything with you--.” 

“Will you stick him up a tree for an entire night?” You questioned, reminding yourself of Des’ backlash with a smirk on your lips. Luke bit on his bottom lip, contemplating the finishing sentence as he nodded. 

“Sounds about right, yeah.” You giggled, having Luke raise an eye in puzzlement before shrugging it off. He lent you this extremely warm smile, one so gentle that it was intimidating. You looked away, letting out a small sigh as you allowed silence to seep in. But right then you decided to pop it. 

“Anyhow, thanks for the ‘scolding.’“ You curled both index and middle fingers you own in the air. “Can I go back now?” 

“Mm, I dunno,” Luke hummed, watching as he bent over and got his face close to yours. You stiffened, trying to counter his attempt to embarrass you by glaring at him. The tip of his nose was tempting to just meet with yours, knowing that if he did, a spark will somehow surge through and make you jump. “I don’t like it when you’re not around.” 

“That sucks,” you huffed. “You’re just gonna have to deal with it.” I don’t like it when you’re not around. Luke honestly couldn’t give your head or heart an actual break. How inconsiderate. 

“I already do when you’re not,” Luke hummed woefully. Trickles of vexation surged through when listening to his down tone. You didn’t like it, it was too unlike him. “I’m supposed to be in the gym now anyways” 

“Yeah?” 

“Gotta flaunt my leadership and meet all the members,” Luke hummed. “I chose some pretty chill people, so you shouldn’t be too bothered or irritated by them.” 

“Oh geez, did you select them in my favor?” You wondered, “because I’d definitely have to counter that, considering Nadia is in our group.” Luke was quick to bring his hand to the nape of his neck to give his lower curls a scratch. 

“Like I said, it’d be good if you guys could try and get along,” Luke hummed awkwardly. You looked into his azure eyes long and good, flickering your pupils about as he stares directly back. But his irises slowly thin with the widening of his own pupils, having them a little shaky. You were grasping at possible guesses, hoping to find a better reason than the one he insists. 

“Is it because you feel bad for her?” You hummed, looking ponderously in his eyes. The oceans dim, his pupils divert itself elsewhere awkwardly, “oh, that must be it! I wonder why...” you practically sang, going up to catch Luke’s chin with your hand. His eyes go back into yours, lightening up only a tad, “If you’re gonna lie, at least give me a good, believable reason as to why you’d add the Devil reincarnated into our team.” 

“You’re quite good at digging, aren’t you?” Luke praised, evidently a little vexed at your skill. You smiled in triumph, letting him go to back up from him once more. 

“Years of practice,” you murmured, not too fond of the skill but just enough. Pursing your lips together, you studied Luke for a moment before looking back at the menacing gym doors. You changed your demeanor and quickly pulled in the Puppy Eyes, “wanna get out of here?” 

Luke got easily caught,  his heart halting at the very sight of you. You had plead and beg in those mystery swirls, not caring if it seemed so unlike you. It was so unlike, but you have to do some hard shit to get what you want sometimes. And if this was it, you were more than prepared to do something so simple and only slightly degrading. But Luke easily succumbed, “destination?” 

“Away from the gym,” you murmured, having Luke look at you skeptically. But it was obvious he was surprised at your question. Him out of all people? You’d rather go somewhere with one of the girls. But Luke had a bit of superiority now, so you figured he’d be able to get you out of the tiring confines of that gym. “Just follow my lead, yeah?” 

“Y/N, what’re you--.” Before he could do anything, you began to yell. 

“She’s such a fucking bitch, I can’t handle her!” You growled, your face grimacing with pure heat in your words and eyes. A few teachers idling about looked over worriedly, eyes peering in curiosity. Luke widened his eyes, quickly putting his hands on your shoulders as if to hold me back. “Let me go back in there and give her a damn smack on the mouth! Disrespectful bitch!” 

“Uh-- calm down, Y/N!” Luke spoke over you, a little awkward at first but assertive. It was believable enough, you thought, as you continued shifting angrily in his hands. You did press pressure, requiring the appearance to make the teachers actually believe it as the assistant principal got close. 

“Is everything alright, Mr. Hemmings?” Her voice rang, having Luke nod as he continued to hold you. You allowed searing growls to leave you, leering at the teacher to have her flinch only slightly. It was amusing to be considered a cold being around the joint. 

“Yes, it’s alright,” Luke hummed, “but I think I need to chat with her for a moment. Mind getting another professor to go over the schedule with my group? I really need to speak to Y/N as she disagrees with the selection of my team.” 

The teacher merely nods, having Luke nod from his glance before turning back to you. You continued to act rabid, having Luke grab you by the wrist and begin tugging you out of the hallway. You made sure a string of curses stayed behind your legacy as Luke dragged you away. As he did, you looked at his sturdy back and noticed a paper stickied onto it. No fucking way... 

Removing it from his back without him noticing, you jog behind him with your freehand, you shakily open the note and reveal its contents. 

‘I’m a huge cryer. Once I had been away from my mom for about 2 days, and I had sobbed within the first 3 hours of the trip. It’s really bad, but I just miss people a lot when I’m away from those I love -H’ 

He’s adorable, you thought to yourself as you stuffed the note into your pocket. It was annoying that you didn’t know who he was, but learning about him through these small notes was fascinating. You were discovering a real person, either some shy boy who was this cute, or a jock who keeps these as secrets from the public view. It just made you so curious as to who this person was, and it itched at your mind. 

A question though: how the fuck did he get the note attached to the back of Luke R. Hemmings? 

“Hey,” you sounded to Luke, who continued to lead you away. But he slowed down when far enough, having you appreciate the gesture greatly. “Where are we off to?” 

“Away,” Luke replied, having you take the answer as you let him take you to wherever away was. 

You found yourself in your English class, vacant with papers and chewed up yellow pencils sprawled about. 

“I hate this class,” you hummed, slowly sauntering over to the fern chalkboard as Luke walked along the rows of tables by the door. Your fingertips dragged along the words, taking away the colored chalk in the letters and words jumbled about, leaving dashes and holes all around. “I love English, but this class is so slow that I’m ahead,” you hummed, looking around to see the big lesson soon which is ‘Love prevails all.’ 

“Keep in mind that you’re you and everyone else isn’t,” Luke said fondly through chuckles, “everyone else doesn’t have such a smart, easily interpretative brain like yours, Y/N. You’re far too unique to be in the crowd of copies.” You smiled at this curtly, still staring at the green entity to conceal it from his view. 

“I try,” you admit, bringing your hand before you to see your fingers dirtied with the white powder. “But sometimes I do wonder at what cost...” 

“Elaborate?” Luke asked kindly, always willing to lend ears. 

“I mean,” you began, clearing your throat a bit, “I’m very happy to be where I am currently with 3 amazing people as my friends, but they’re always out having a blast at those social gatherings while I keep my face stuck in a textbook.” 

“Nn,” Luke hummed in comprehension, “so you think you’re missing out?” You nodded, looking distantly at the small bookshelf that was at the end of the chalkboard by the windows. “It’s too late to get out there, you know.” 

You scoffed, smiling a bit at his words, “you’re far too optimistic, Luke. We’re already in our senior year-- my 3 years are spent and my last one is already looking to be spent.” 

“That’s because you’re trying too hard in a year that doesn’t matter so much,” Luke snorted, having you immediately snap your neck to face the blonde boy by the back of the classroom. 

“Pardon you, but I’m trying to get myself in a good university,” you snapped, “it doesn’t matter if my grades ‘don’t count’ this year. I’m always going to do my best, to not only prove it to everyone else but to myself. To prove that while everyone else is the same, I’m... different.” 

“Weren’t you just complaining about that?” Luke hummed curiously, having you look away again, studying the textbooks collecting dust, “the only rabbit in the turtle race.” 

“Well, I want to be a little both?” You chimed almost suggestively, “I mean, I definitely won’t let go of my studies for even a second, but maybe I can let loose just for a few hours every weekend? Not so late like your venue concert, but I mean, just a bit of time away from home. B-but I also don’t to seem like a slacker or some party animal...” 

“I kind’ve get what you mean,” Luke began quietly, having you glance over to see him saunter to your desk, “like that’s the side of you that you want to keep and have it exist but not be the entirety of you.” You gave Luke a lingering stare, seeing the way he looked wistfully at your desk and brushed his fingertips along the scratched in gang names and doodles. 

“R-right, yeah,” you sputtered, somewhat surprised at how understanding Luke was. It was like he himself was in the same shoes, but that couldn’t be possible, could it? He was the popular guitar player in a band who goes to parties and has girls constantly swooning over him. He indulges in attention and is said to be the life of every party he steps one single foot in. “Does that sound crazy or somethin...”

“I think it’s cool,” Luke mumbles genuinely, his tender words quickly making your heart race, “you want to stay true to yourself to everything while still experiencing something that’s out of your comfort. It’s really rad, ‘n I respect that.” 

You smiled at this, feeling a little better as you slowly made your way towards the boy, “you’re actually not that bad, Hemmings.” This quickly caught Luke’s attention as he snapped his neck and had his blue eyes widened and fixed on you. No words came through just yet, but his bewilderment was quite the sight, “chillax, I’m just saying you aren’t as much of an ass as you always act.” 

“N-no it’s not that,” Luke stuttered, both large hands covering his face as he looked away. You stayed at his back, confused as those curls perfectly fell down the nape of his pale neck. You wondered what happened, wanting to step closer without stepping on a border. “It’s unusual for you to be candid in such a sweet way-- it caught me a little off guard.” 

“Don’t get used to it,” you huffed, “it’s not gonna happen often, and this might end up being a one time thing.” Then, suddenly, Luke chuckled after your words, and you couldn’t help but lighten up. His laughter was always so gentle and warm, like a morning dew of a summer morning, with bells dancing along with the wind current.

“I won’t,” Luke assured, turning around to show his cheeks only a little bit tinted with pink, “but I like this you-- this raw version. Just makes me fall even deeper.” 

“Fucks sake,” you scoffed, looking away to shake your head in disapproval, “don’t even begin with calling me candid when you’re especially so. You’re not in love with me.” 

Luke let that hang for a moment, having you feel his blue eyes stare at you as he held a smirk. You looked over at the window beside your seat, reminding yourself of the stalker. The Note Tree, the assumed title of the song this random boy wrote for you. Always changed, 30+ days worth of one lyric change that had always kept you wondering how his eyes was always on you but you could never coincidentally meet them. You emit a sigh, somewhat vexed at everything and the stalker and the boy before you with a warm smile and beautiful ocean eyes. 

“That sucks,” Luke hummed, “because I am very much in love with you and proud to be incredibly deep in. I’m practically by the center of the earth-- it’s beyond boiling point.” You shook your head, chuckling at how much of a dork he was. 

“So what should I do about it?” You sounded, rolling your eyes over to see him gnawing on his bottom rouge lip. You wondered curiously at his face, seeing how he hasn’t even faltered a single bit. 

“You’re a good digger, aren’t you?” Luke pointed out, “dig me out.” 

“Oh yeah?” You made your voice just a bit higher, with your eyebrows following and your eyes meeting his with annoyance. “How do I do that? My personality is one that makes everyone run away so I have no idea how to dig you out.” 

“Well, that’s the thing then, isn’t it?” Luke said quietly with a curt, kind smile, “you can’t. Your digging skills only reside in things you know, but you can’t understand my love for you. So there’s nothing you can do but make me sink deeper and deeper,” Luke spewed with more passion, moving closer to you, and oh my, “until my heart is bruised with your name. It’ll throb lovingly with eternal colors that I’ve only seen when I’m with you or you’re dancing about in my head.” 

“I...” you began, looking away completely. You were flushed. Red-faced, red tinted, completely scarlet with no control whatsoever. That asshole is absolutely impossible. “...Fuck off, Luke.” You shoved him back, getting out a few entertained laughs from the blond dolt. 

“Never,” Luke practically sung, having you grumble as you took a seat on the desk in front of yours and leaned your back against the closed window. Luke followed, hopping on your desk as you looked distantly at the empty hall through the door. He noticed the wistful expression on your face and spewed quietly, “you okay, Y/N?” 

“Mind singing me a little something?” You immediately replied, indirectly looking over to see his feet move forwards and backwards like he were on a swing. They suddenly halted from your words though, as you felt his eyes likely on you. He was silent, speechless possibly, “what’s wrong? Can’t do it without your guitar?” 

“N-no,” Luke stuttered, his hands clenching around the edges of the desk as he sat forward with his lanky back slouched. “It’s just... didn’t think you’d ever ask me to sing you something.” 

“Want me to take it back?” You threatened. 

“No!” He immediately stopped you, having you smirk as you began twiddling your thumbs. You didn’t say anything further, having Luke guess to sing anything he’d like. You don’t have requests so long as you heard his voice. His singing voice is not bad, you honestly admitted. “You’re dripping like a saturated sunri-hiiise--” He chose Halsey, what a guy, “-you’re spilling like an overflowing sink. You’re ripped at every edge, but you’re a master piece, and now I’m tearing through the pages and the ink-- come in with me, Y/N!” 

“I don’t sing,” you exclaimed in slight bewilderment, looking over to see pure optimism and encouragement. “I’m not that like, good...” 

“But I don’t care,” Luke hummed, having you frown, “I want to hear all of you, every single way you can use your voice. So singing is one.”

“You pervert, that consists of a lot of sound I can make--.” 

“Everything is blue!” Luke sang-screamed, having you flinch, but giggle it out before joining him. “His pills, his hands, his jeans. And now I’m covered in the colors pull apart at the seams-- continue it for me, Y/N.” 

“I swear to god, Luke--.”

“Y/N.” 

“And it’s blue-oo-oo-ooo,” you sang the stretched out word, having you feel completely embarrassed as you sung, “and it’s blue-oo-oo-ooo...” 

“Everythin’ is grey-- his hair, his smoke, his dreams,” Luke sang, his voice raspy and pure, completely raw and absolutely doesn’t need a guitar to help him sound better. He was fantastic, as he deserves to think and know so. “And now he’s so devoid of color-- he don’t know what it means! And he’s blue.... yeah, he’s blue...” 

“You were red,” you began with the bridge, your voice as dramatic as it could be as Luke began to sputter out laughter. You clenched your chest with your hands, “and you liked me because I was blue...” 

“Then you touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky!” Luke yelled with you, the both of you raising your arms with glee as you turned to face each other. “But then you decided purple just wasn’t for you.” 

“And it’s blue-oo-oo-ooo,” Luke finished quietly, refusing to go through the whole chorus yet again as you stared at him wistfully. It’s those kind of moments you dream of having: the ones where you can be absolutely silly with another who is just as silly and indulging in it completely. But it’s with Luke and somehow you aren’t mad about it. You’re looking into those blue eyes and noticed just how blue they were. And by God, they were so blue-- so blue that you could fucking drown in them and you had high doubts that Luke had his lifeguard license. 

“Ah, sorry...” you quickly spewed an apology, looking away to distantly return yourself to the vacant corridor. But Luke only let out another laugh, one more lower and genuine, so warm and tender that it greeted your heart kindly with a dose of adrenaline. 

“And you still wonder why I love you?” Luke began, scoffing in disbelief as your cheeks flared up in scarlet. “Can this be our song? So when we get married, we can play it and remember this day.” 

“Luke!” You exclaimed, slamming down on the wooden table. “Slow your damn horses-- you’re way too optimistic about your future.” 

“I don’t think it’s optimism,” Luke said honestly with a smirk. You turned to stare at him, seeing the way he looked up distantly to the ceiling, his blue orbs still. “I know what I want in my future, and I know I want you innit all, through-and-through.”

You allowed the silence to take you over, as you were at a loss of words. So much so that you adjusted your bag on you bag and hopped off the desk. Luke followed, refusing to utter a word as you gestures to the space before you. 

“Y/N?” 

“Grab my wrist and walk us back to the gym please,” you murmured, shyly unfurling your hand as you offered it to him. You could tell he was a bit awestruck, considering this was very out of your nature. But Luke had just done something that you will never forget, even if you wanted to, and somehow-- somehow, you aren’t angry at all. 

“You’re so sly,” Luke chuckled out, his hands with mountains of callouses and rough skin taking your wrist. It was a more delicate hold, much more gentle and not rushed. It felt really sweet and genuine, like he was savoring it all. “Let’s go.”

With that, you allowed the blonde-haired monster take you away, fully flushed and unable to shake off the sudden new speed your heart took on. 

you already know what to do, inbox is right here and please don’t hate me for the super slow updates aha xx