#just like how my violin teacher helped give me back my smile

[gravitycavity]

[Preview] Sunshine - Chapter 5

Hey guys! Thank you for your patience while I write chapter 5. This chapter might take longer than usual, so I wanted to give you all a longer-than-usual preview to make up for it. I hope you enjoy it!

For context, Pomni and Ragatha are in a ballroom inside of the haunted mansion. They're locked inside and looking for a key to escape, but aren't having very much luck. Having tried everything, they decide to take a break.

Also Ragatha is sitting in a chair. Pomni found her a comfy one :)

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

The long, dusty boxes that Pomni had already sifted through still laid in a messy pile beside the antique chest. Pomni never was very good at putting things back where she found them.

Sighing, she opened the nearest one and cautiously unfurled the bulky scroll stored inside. A series of small, perfectly-cut holes stretched across the yellowed paper. Some existed in isolation, while others were grouped together into long lines — as if a leaf-munching insect had eaten its way through the fragile material.

Pomni’s tonge prodded the inside of her cheek. “Ragatha? You said you played the…” her gaze flicked aside, “...violin, right?”

“Violoncello.” Ragatha deadpanned. “Why?”

“Well, I was just wondering — since you’re a musician, do you have any clue what these weird rolls of paper are for? They seem related to the piano somehow, but…”

“I thought you would never ask!” Ragatha gasped, clasping her hands together. “Those funky bundles of paper are called piano rolls!”

The redhead had responded to Pomni’s question in plain English, but the baffled look on the jester’s face suggested otherwise.  

Ragatha continued. “Back in the day, these were used to play piano tunes without the need for a human performer. Each one plays a different song when loaded into a player piano.”

“Player piano…?”

“Oh, right. Sorry!” Ragatha shuffled her feet, “That’s a special type of piano that plays itself. I’m not quite sure how it works either. But back to the topic at hand — see those little holes cut into the paper? Each one represents one music note. As the roll slowly unfurls, a sensor reads them and tells the machine which keys to strike.”

“Ohh…” Pomni ran her fingers across the parade of perforations that spanned the scroll. Slowly, she nodded. “...So it’s like a music box?”

“Now you’re getting it!” Ragatha beamed. The look on her face as she watched the concept click in Pomnis’ head was a painting of pure joy; was it any wonder that she had worked as a teacher prior to her captivity? 

Pomni sighed. She planted an elbow on the old chest and cradled her cheek against her palm. “Your students must have loved you...” 

“Well, I did receive my fair share of apples.” Ragatha shrugged. “Never had to pack a lunch.”

“Wait, seriously…? That’s a real thing?”

“No. Not really.”

A silly smile teased its way onto Pomni’s lips. Heart stumbling, she turned away, fingers unconsciously fiddling with the old chest’s loosened lock. “S-So, um, is there anything else you can tell me…?” 

“Nah — telling is overrated. In my classroom, I always liked to take a hands-on approach.” Ragatha said. She admired the antique instrument seated on the far end of the stage. “There’s a player piano right there. Why don’t you give it a whirl, Sunshine?”

Pomni felt her whole body melting, all the way down to her soul. Sunshine. She was putty in the ragdoll’s hands. 

“S-Sure thing! I’ll find a good one!” Just about tearing the lid off of the antique chest, she rifled through its tightly-packed contents with purpose, scrutinizing the faded titles printed on each box. She didn’t recognize a single song, much less any of their long-dead composers, so it was anyone's guess as to what the music would actually sound like. She may as well have just swiped a roll at random — and, as a matter of fact, that’s exactly what she did. 

Pomni set the bulky scroll inside the automatic piano after a bit of clumsy fumbling — and more than a little help from Ragatha. With the flip of a switch, the paper started spinning, and the premier notes of a lofty, leisurely tune stirred to life beneath the ballroom’s vaulted ceiling. 

Pomni’s fingers drew circles on the mechanical piano’s smooth, wood grain exterior. For a moment, she forgot where she was, utterly fascinated by the simple elegance of the century-old contraption. 

It was funny. The long-forgotten piece it played, humbly subtitled ‘a ragtime two-step’, had set her up to expect something more peppy and up-tempo. As the piano roll steadily unfurled, however, the melodic constellations impressed upon the paper sang a far different tune. 

It was the type of jaunty music one would expect to accompany a silent film, just…polished. Refined. All of the musical tropes of the era were present — the driving bassline, the active, syncopated melody — but the piece’s dignified pace and finely-crafted harmonies would have sounded out of place in a rowdy saloon. 

Here in the ballroom, though, the old-fashioned tune was right at home — at least, that’s what the haunted furniture seemed to think. 

Looking impressed, Pomni tapped her foot, wholly oblivious to the perplexing scene unfolding behind her. “Hm. Not bad.” She remarked, turning to face Ragatha, “To tell you the truth, I actually kind of ohmygodwhat’sgoingon—”

Pomni stumbled backwards, then forwards, then backwards again into Ragatha’s chair. The ballroom’s inanimate denizens — the one-hundred-odd tables and chairs scattered across its marble floor —  moved all on their own, dancing in time with the mellow melody. A backing band of squeaking wood and clinking plates added a percussive flair to the player piano’s charming, just-slightly-detuned sound. 

Ragatha, for her part, was busy cracking up at Pomni’s complete and utter bewilderment. With a quick breath, she managed to compose herself. “Well, when in Rome…” The ghost of a giggle still lingered in her tone as she offered up her hand to the crumpled heap of a woman at her feet, “Shall we?”

Pomni let out a mousy squeak. “H-Huh?” She flinched, head feeling light, dots flitting across her vision, “But—”

“Come on. Don’t make me beg.” Ragatha batted her eyes, “It’s unladylike.”

Pomni blushed. She couldn’t argue with that. Without a word, she swallowed, shuddering like a frightened animal as she reached for Ragatha’s pretty hand.

Her fingers curled snugly around the ragdoll’s plush, doughy hand. Both women’s palms — one big, one small — fit together perfectly.

Pomni slid her other arm behind Ragatha’s back, powerless to stop the little whimpers sneaking out of her as she lifted the lightweight woman into her arms. For a moment, their faces were close enough to feel each other’s warmth — and it took every ounce of restraint Pomni had to resist asking: ‘Can I please kiss you?’.

With a brief, peppy fanfare, the music transitioned to a new section; the enchanted furniture, as if controlled by a single mind, adapted its routine in perfect sync. 

“I, um…” Pomni’s heart sank at the sight. This stupid furniture was making her look bad. “I don’t really know how to dance…” She winced the thought, and then at the sight of Ragatha’s grave injuries, “And even if I did, how are we supposed to—”

“Shh.” Ragatha’s thumb glided across the back of Pomni’s hand. “Just…hold me. Please.”

Pomni exhaled. 

Holding her dolly close, the jester closed her eyes, synchronizing her trembling breaths with every other downbeat. Her foot matched the two-step’s gentle pulse, and before she knew it, her whole body was swaying to the rhythm.

Ragatha nestled her head against Pomni’s chest; a blissful sigh escaped her shuddering smile. The tension in her body dissipated note-by-note, phrase-by-phrase, as her darling rocked her back and forth, here and there, to and fro. 

[jungwnies]

syn ' he’s your cocky orchestra partner, what happens when practice turns into something more? genre ' school rivals to lovers romance req ' yes

fem!reader x rival!jake

word count ' 1.2k warning ' smut

notes ' thanks for reading & thank you so much for all the support even when i'm on my short hiatuses? much love mwaaa

심재윤 —

“be serious.” you tell your teacher sitting in the first chair. “i don’t want to do this piece with him as my stand partner.”

your teacher looks at you and laughs, “don’t you trust my judgement sweetie?”

you roll your eyes, “well yes, but i don’t agree with it.”

you teacher sighs, “orchestra isn’t a competition, you both are just as good.”

“i’ve been in the first chair for awhile, i think i’m better.” jake says, cockily.

you roll your eyes at his remark, “oh please, we both know whose the better violinist.”

jake laughs and puts the music sheet on the stand, “make sure to keep up.”

“you cant go presto in this music without learning how to play allegro first.” you tell jake sighing.

“maybe you cant, but i can.” he says beginning to play.

he was good, that was something everyone knew. but the way he was so cocky about it, it was an ick.

you sit down in your seat and put your hand on the sheet of music, “next time, don’t start without me.”

your teacher looks at you and gives you a thumbs up before helping one of the violin two students tune their instrument.

you rosin your bow before fixing your posture and setting the instrument by your collarbone. “ready?” you ask as jake nodded.

- ts -

practice didn’t go too bad, you were able to get through the whole piece making annotations here and there. you begin to pack up your instrument and put the music in the folder, until your teacher stopped you and jake.

“i know you guys hate each other, but you really sounds well south each other when you play.” she compliments. “i do think there can be a little more work done, you guys should work in this piece after school together, and fix the rivalry you have.”

jake laughs, “you’re joking right?”

“it’s important you guys learn how to work together without giving each other the death stare, so no, im not joking.” she tells the two of you smiling.

you look and him and purse your lips, “well… i guess we’re stuck together, buddy!”

jake pulls out his phone and hands it to you, “give me your number, i’ll text you a place we should meet.”

you take his phone and put your number in, saving your contact.

“please try to work it out, everyone can see the tension between you two.” your teacher says sighing, “my two best students, and you guys hate each other”

“hates a strong word.” you tell her laughing. “anyways, have a good day! i’ll see you next class.”

you wave goodbye to her and jake does as well as the two of you walk out of class together and part ways the second you step out of the door.

- ts -

“is this seriously where we are practicing?” you ask looking around. “don’t you think it would be better if we worked in like, the living room?”

jake shrugs, “i think my room is big enough for two, are you scared we’re going to do more than practice?” he asks jokingly.

you roll your eyes, “don’t even go there.”

“why not? scared you’ll fall in love?” he asks leaning in.

you lean back and push him away, “can we just get started.”

he laughs and opens his folder which contained the music sheet. “ready?”

you nod and get into position for the piece.

—

this continued for days, meeting up practicing. to be honest, you guys did grow closer. the rivalry was still there, but he couldn’t say he hated you as a person.

“you guys almost seem like friends.” the teacher says laughing.

your smile turns into a straight face, “we aren’t.”

jake laughs, “just strictly stand partners."

—

what a lie. just strictly stand partners.

"are you sure you want to do this?" jake asks as he hovers over you keeping your hands above your head.

you give him a breathy nod, "yes."

jake goes down and begins to kiss your lips, it wasn't something he thought he'd taste. it wasn't something he though would drive him crazy.

the way he smiled against your lips wasn't something you'd find causing butterflies in your stomach. and it was definitely a weird feelings.

the person you hated now on top of you asking, "does this feel good?" as his hand begins to go down your soaked panties.

but the moans coming from your mouth gave him the answer, "i've never done this before." you admit moaning.

jake smiles, "neither have i."

he continues to kiss you as his hands wandering on your clothed pussy, "can i?" you ask reaching for the button on his pants.

he gives you a nod and you sit up straight pulling down his pants. "do you have protection?" you asks laying back down propping yourself up with your elbows.

jake nods, "just a sec."

he reaches for his violin can and pulls out the condom from the zipper, "don't ask."

you laugh, "in the violin case? really?"

"just shut up and kiss me y/n." he tells you as he goes back down on you with the condom on.

“how did we end up here?” you ask breathily.

“not sure but i guess we can thank our orchestra teacher, right?” jake says with a lightly chuckle.

his cock was hard, and the condom held the bits of precut that was leaking from the tip.

"stop staring, you're making me embarrassed." he admits as you continue to kiss him with your arms wrapped around his neck.

"trust me, there's nothing to be embarrassed about." you tell him as you reach for his hard cock that you begin to stroke up and down.

jake moans lightly as he begins to position himself, the tip of his cock brushed against the lips of your pussy and you throw your head back, "fuck i'm scared." you admit laughing.

"me fucking too." jake says putting his forehead against yours. "ready?" he asks you, lips barely touching.

you give him and nod and feel his length begin to enter you. "fuck." you moan.

you didn't realize how wet you've gotten for him until you realized how easy it was for him to slip it in.

"you're so fucking hot." jake groans as he begins to thrust slowly, "is this okay?"

you give him a nod as pretty moans leave your mouth, "fast...faster.."

jake interlocks his hands with yours as he continues to thrust into you at a steady pace.

"fuck y/n i might come." jake groans as he speeds up a little.

"that's...that's fine..." you tell him moaning.

"but what about you pretty girl?" he asks as he continues to thrust as his quick pace.

"maybe i can guide you when you're done." you moan causing jake to cum into the condom.

"fuck." he breathes out before pulling out.

he plops down next you, "what can i do for you baby?"

you turn to your side facing him and whisper in his ear, "eat me out."

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - prologue | a long time ago… in a town far, far away…

“How was your violin lesson, honey?” Your dad asked as he looked up from the newspaper.

You shrugged. “Fine.”

You walked through the house and into your room, putting the violin case down where you normally left it next to your desk. You laid face down on your bed for a moment and sighed, the chastising from your teacher still in your head. ‘Lift your elbow!’ ‘These are the glissandos of someone who hasn’t practiced!’ ‘Do you think Paganini became the world’s greatest violinist with the amount of effort you put into it?!’

You grabbed your pillow and screamed into it.

“Hey.”

You sat up to find your brother, Intak, standing in the doorway.

“Mom said dinner’s ready.” He left.

You took your jacket off, threw it on the bed and went to the kitchen.

“I got a call from your violin teacher today,” your mom said as she placed the last plate on the table and sat down. “He told me you haven’t been practicing.”

You stared at your plate, wishing you were anywhere else. Swimming in the ocean near a shark feeding frenzy, perhaps.

“T/n?”

“I have been practicing.”

“He told me you haven’t been improving.”

“Honey, you need to practice.” Your dad added.

“Maybe I’m just not cut out to play violin then.”

Your dad sighed and looked to your mom for help.

“Honey, playing the violin will open up so many opportunities for you.”

You looked up at her.

“Take your father and myself for example: concert pianists and ballet dancers acquire a level of prestige that other jobs simply don’t have.”

“And what if I don’t want that kind of prestige?”

She scoffed. “Now honey, everyone wants that kind of prestige.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at your mother.”

You anchored your gaze onto your food since there wasn’t anything else you could do.

Your mom continued. “Your father has played concerts all across the globe, and I’ve danced all across Asia and Europe. I would have danced elsewhere too, if I didn’t give birth to your brother and you.”

You fought hard not to roll your eyes again. It was an age-old tale belonging only to her; that birthing your brother and yourself had ruined her waifish body and so she could no longer dance. An age-old tale that, to look at her, seemed to be a fabrication; she was about as thin as she was before she had either of you. The envy of most of the moms at your school because she seemed to never gain weight.

“Look at your brother,” your dad said. “He plays cello and he loves it.”

Your brother smiled at you.

“Well, I play violin and I don’t.”

“You understood the rules, honey.” your mom began. “You could choose between dance or an instrument, and you were kicked out of dance, so now--”

“Now I’m stuck with violin.”

“Don’t say it like that.” She said firmly. 

“That’s what it feels like.”

“You’re being disrespectful.” Your father reprimanded.

You turned to him with a blank expression.

“We have careers in the arts--

“Had.” Your mother corrected.

“Yes, honey, had. So did all of your grandparents. It’s in your blood.”

You looked back down at your plate. After getting yelled at by your violin teacher for two hours, you already didn’t want to eat. Now you just wanted to throw up.

“That’s why you need to go to violin practice. And that’s why you need to practice more.” Your mom said.

“If it’s in my blood, then why aren’t I just naturally good at it?” You looked up at your mom.

She chewed her food thoughtfully.

You watched her.

“Art is about effort, and passion--”

“--And about being forced to do something and not being allowed to deviate from the path someone else chose for you.”

She glared at you as she lowered her spoon back to the plate.

“Art is about not being able to experiment with style or form, it’s about being made to do something by someone else. Right?”

“When did I say that?”

“That’s what you’re telling me right now because you won’t even entertain the idea that I might want to play a different instrument. Or that I might not even want to be in the arts at all.”

She stared at you, expressionless. “Go to your room.”

The two of you locked eyes. She looked at you passively, the cold air of a parent who knew they would always get what they want because they are the one in charge. You? Your face was one of indignance. You knew that you were trapped. There was a world waiting for you outside your cage but you’d never see it as long as you lived under her roof. For a moment, you thought of saying something, starting a fight because it was the only thing you could do; at least you’d get to speak your mind.

You stood angrily, nearly knocking over your chair in the process. You stormed off to your room and slammed the door behind you. Before you could even make it to your bed, your legs gave out from under you and you collapsed, like a child in prayer your arms sprawled across the bedspread as your fingers came together and grasped the fabric in two fistfulls and you held on. Instead of calling on some higher power, you cried.

A few hours later, you were done crying your eyes out. The feeling of emotional release that crying provides already given way to feeling trapped again, and you knew that there wasn’t anything you could do. The only way to stop crying would be to change the situation you were in so you no longer had a reason to cry, and you couldn’t even do that until you graduated.

Because you could do nothing else, you lay on your bed listening to music. Contrary to whatever idea of you your parents had in their head, you genuinely liked music. You loved it. You were a true ‘music is my life’ child who used music as a way to ground themselves in nervous situations, listened to aggressive music when they were angry, and used it to change their mood from sad to happy.

You listened to songs over and over for hours as you deconstructed them in your mind, paying close attention to how they worked, what notes and chords made the listener feel what feelings, the use of metaphor and idiom the lyricists used to create a story. You liked so many different kinds of music. You didn’t like the idea of being the kind of person who only listens to one kind, if only because there was so many thousands of years of music that have existed throughout human history and it would be stupid to think that one band or genre that exists in the brief blip that is now could be the be-all end-all of human emotion and experience. Not listening to as much music as you possibly could would be a truly stupid decision, in your eyes. Humans have loved music since the first person realized they could make noise that was pleasing to the ears and share it with the other people around them; there was something sacred in that. Learning to make music shouldn’t be for - as your parents thought - fame and prestige. 

As you thought about how much you loved music and how much your parents just didn’t have the same mindset, a song you vaguely remembered adding to your playlist came on. A distorted bass note opened the song before sounding like it was spinning out of control into a flurry of electric guitar and drums, but the bass was still there in the background, stabilizing the song with its chunky, heavy sound. You picked up your mp3 player and looked at it, Around the World by the Red Hot Chili Peppers; it must have been one of the albums one of your few friends in band class let you rip from their cd collection like contraband, since your parents didn’t let you buy anything that wasn’t art music. Of the three kinds of music - art music, folk music, popular music - in your house you were only allowed to listen to one: art. Classical, baroque, romantic, opera: those were the genres that were permitted. The worst part was, there were movements and pieces that you genuinely liked, but all of it had been tarnished for you. You were a caged bird; the lines of the staff were the bars of your cage while the notes that rested on them were notes you wished to sing, but because you were not allowed to experience the emotion that would bring about song, they were meaningless.

You navigated to the album and played the rest of it. However you ended up with it, it had some amazing songs. Right On Time started with the weirdest sound you’d ever heard: a bouncy springy sound that you couldn’t identify. You got up and sat at your computer and entered a bunch of music terms trying to figure out what it was before just searching “RHCP Right On Time cover” and finding that, to play the song, the bassist was hitting his thumb against the strings and pulling the strings away from the instrument.

“Slap bass?” You said out loud, to no one.

It was so cool, and you loved the sound. Maybe you could play bass instead of…

No... No. You knew your parents would never let you play a rock instrument. There was no ‘prestige’, the thing most important to them. A word you had come to hate. 

Wasn’t the point of art to release your own creativity in a way that other people could experience it? Wasn’t the point of art to make others laugh, cry, think, and experience something? Wasn’t the point of making art to have a good time? For two artists who constantly extolled the virtues of art, their idea took on a decidedly commodified definition. Art wasn’t about creativity or pleasure to them, it was about physical and social capital. Even then, people in rock bands made millions of dollars and had fans who loved them. But you already knew what they’d say if you tried to make that point: that wasn’t the right form of social capital. It wasn’t the love from old money millionaires who could become your patron, throw all of their money at you, pay you to write or play things they want, put you up in the best hotels so you could play to a mere few hundred people at the fanciest concert hall. It was about the elitism. It was about being better than someone else. It was about accepting the cage because it was gilded.

Watching the cover over again, you felt something. Something that you had never felt for ballet or the violin. You wanted it. A sense of ardor that made your face flush and the heat rise from your neck. It was almost embarrassing how strong the feeling was. You had felt dead inside from the conversation at dinner and from crying afterwards, numbed by the idea that your fate was inescapable, but now your very being felt alight. Desire, tinged with anger. A conflagration of understanding what you wanted after having it kept from you for so long. It was just so cool.

You wanted to learn what he was doing, you wanted to play what the bassist in the video was playing, you wanted to be in command of such an instrument that could make noises so low you could feel it like a second heartbeat in your chest. But you could never have that. Not while you lived in your parent’s home, anyway.

You thought for a moment. You had birthday money. Actually, you had a lot of birthday money since your mom never let you have any of it. And you knew that she kept it hidden in her sock drawer because you snuck after her and saw her put it in there one year. She wouldn’t have had any reason to move it, right? And also…

It was your money.

You peeked into the kitchen and saw your mom cleaning dishes, your dad was in the living room watching the news, and your brother was in his room with the door closed. You snuck into your parent’s room and found the money exactly where you knew it was. You took a bunch of it out and put paper you had cut to the correct size in its place, hoping she wouldn’t notice. At least, she wouldn’t notice until your next birthday, and that was almost a year from now. That gave you a year to think of what you were going to say when she found out and screamed at you.

You calmly walked back to your room, and only exhaled once you closed your door and stood against it. Now, you could hear your heart hammering in your ears from the sheer panic of getting caught. You took a deep breath and looked around your room; you didn’t want to put the money in your wallet and risk losing it, so you needed to hide it somewhere she wouldn’t think to look. You opened your desk drawer: too obvious. Between the mattress and the boxspring: she’d see it when she was cleaning. You had it: you never pulled the bottom drawer of your dresser out all the way because it just had things that were only really for dressing up, which you didn’t do often. You could tape it to the underside of the panel the drawer above rested on. 

You wrapped the money up in some paper and taped it to the panel, far enough from the entrance that it couldn’t be seen. You tested this by pulling the drawer out, and found that it was well hidden. Step one: complete.

Step two: now you just needed to figure out a time when you could go to the music shop in the next town over. You couldn’t go during the week, so it’d have to be a weekend. But you also didn’t have a car and the music shop was pretty far away. You’d have to walk back with it. That was no problem, but what were you supposed to do with it once you brought it back?

You certainly couldn’t keep it at your house, your parents would kill you. 

But if someone could hold onto it for you…

  main cast | masterlist | next

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list! 🎵

[shytastemakerthing]

I saw that your match ups were open and wanted to give it a shot. May I request a romantic twst matchup? I’m a Implagender omniromantic person that usually struggles a lot with my identity and personality, I’m south East Asian with tanned skin, dark maroon colored jellyfish cut, (but I usually put my bangs in a similar way like Haruka from pjsk cause I like putting on cute hair clips and head accessories). I’m usually pretty quiet around everyone but those I’m close to, I’m pretty loud and outgoing when I’m with people I get along with. I like to draw, play violin, cook, bake, and sew a lot. I’m really good with kids and bunch of other household tasks and I’ve done a lot of babysitting + doing a bunch of commissions for drawing and sewing things to earn extra money for myself since my family isn’t well off it also adds work experience I can put on resumes for the future. I’m pretty decent in school, although recently I’ve been doing a bit terrible since my motivation for school is going down and only finish stuff I feel like is easy/quick to complete. My love language is words of affirmation plus acts of service. I’m also really into fashion (specifically agejo hime and rokku gyaru + Ouji Fashion as well) and I love styling outfits. I want to become a kindergarten teacher in the future, and I’ve also composed a few songs on violin.

Hello! I'm so sorry that it has taken me this long to finally get back to answering these! Thank you so much for your patience!

Now, onto our match up!!

I match you with.......

Lilia Vanrouge

🦇 Okay, look, someone has to be able to ame care of the Diasomnia family and make sure none of then get killed because of Lilia's cooking and here you come in like an angel sent from above!

🦇 No, seriously, they all love you, they live your cooking, Malleus especially loves hearing you okay your violin (as someone who also plays violin), he finds it rather comforting, and he is extremely happy that Lilia has found someone after so long.

🦇 The fact that you love children has Lilia falling even harder for you. He has Silver, and while it took him some time to get used to raising a child, liking children, let alone one that was human, after fighting in a war essentially most of his life and seeing how you are so easily able to care for others, how you are with children, how it just comes so naturally to you? He feels his heart swell and warm up at the sight. It also makes him wonder how different things could have been without the war and all. But, what's done is done.

🦇 Okay, back to the happy. He LOVES seeing you interact with children. How they always are so quick to warm up to you, the smile you have on your face and thr laughter? He smiles every time.

🦇 As for motivation? Who better than Lilia? Between raising Silver, training he and Sebek as knights, taking care of Malleus, Lilia knows his way around how to best keep someone motivated. Are some of his methods out there?........ most likely. But he really does mean well and everyone can see that.

🦇 If words of affirmation are what you need, then words of affirmation you will be getting. From the moment that you get up to the moment you go to bed, he will be sparing nothing. You have woken up many times with a simple rose near you with a heart felt letter or even a hand written poem about all the things he loves about you. And acts of service is something he does in his day to day life as it is and it only intensifies when he is with you.

🦇 Now, Lilia is rather old, meaning he has seen a lot of fashion come and go throughout the centuries, and he has worn and tried out many of them. If you ever want him to model, feel free and ask him, but also expect him to send out a flirtatious remark or two. But he absolutely loves this either way. Meaning he will also help supply any materials you may need. You'll never run out again.

🦇 Money is not an issue with him, and even if so, he basically raised Malleus. Malleus sees you as a parental figure. As soon as he catches and kind of money and financial issues, literally the issues will evaporate.

🦇 Overall, bat dad can and will provide. He will help you through it all, and give you as many affirming words that you will need, he will help you with modeling your clothes at time just to see that smile on your face. Just save Diasomnia from his cooking and all will be well

[tea-reads]

Dreams of Love

Pairing: Violinist!Ezra x Pianist F!reader

Summary: Ezra, the favoured violin student who rarely performed solo, happens to hear a familiar song being played in the college's auditorium. He decides to pop in to hear more and to discover it was you, the solo piano student, practicing it.

Word count: 2.4K+

Tags/Warnings: College AU; hurt/comfort; fluff; yearning; pining; self-isolating and lonliness themes; mention of exes and bad friends; self-doubt and lack of confidence; one suggestive thought of Ezra's hands on reader's neck

A/N: Congratulations @pedrostories for 1K followers! Thank you for tagging me about your 1K celebration post recently. It helped give me a little boost to write again, as I've been wanting to for a while, but life gets in the way. Here's my submission. I'm so sorry for being a day over the deadline! I keep trying to write but things keep popping up! I'm real nervous sharing this since it's been a long time and I feel so frazzled. I honestly feel like I could've written this one better. Hope it's okay :')

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The auditorium holds no guests except for a pianist who walks on the stage, towards the grand piano. The class’s end of year student showcase was coming up in a few months, and your days were filled with nothing but solitude in practicing, studying and having lunch alone. It's not like you had any company throughout your college years anyways.

Your teacher gave you and your classmates plenty of time to organise yourselves to form your groups and decide on what piece you were to play for the showcase and as your final assessment. You knew what you were going to do, because like how you’ve spent nearly every day of your college life, you opted for solo.

You preferred it this way. It helped you to focus and stay out of any drama that could come up if you were to mix with the wrong crowd. Although, for all the friend groups - big or small - and the couples that had their place on campus, jealousy slowly bubbled within you, and followed closely by longing. Longing for someone to keep you company and because they genuinely liked being around you, and not for what you could offer.

Not after how your ex or your old “friends” treated you…

You shake your head to get rid the emerging pain from the past and brought your attention back to the piano. You start warming up with various scales and exercises before digging into the classical piece you chose for your final performance and assessment.

Whilst playing the heart of Liebestruame No. 3, a creak from the entrance door echoes throughout the room. You immediately stop and turn your head towards whoever it was that dared to enter whilst you were practicing.

Your heart drops when it’s Ezra standing there, holding his violin case casually yet professional, with that crooked smile of his, looking up at you whilst you look down at him from the stage. He softly says your name, a mix of surprise, awe and maybe a bit of happiness to see it was you playing the piano that it makes your heart flutter.

“I couldn’t help but see who it was playing Liszt’s piece. A masterpiece from the romantic era, if you will.”

He was a final year music student, just like you, and everyone else in your cohort seemed to consider him as the best, due to some bias of him being handsome, being so damn well spoken, and just knowing how to present himself. ‘Not sure why the teachers or the other students think he’s a prodigy. Anyone could do what he does…’ you frown at him as you thought of this.

You were grateful he played the violin anyways because if he also played the piano, you would have left on a whim the moment he entered.

Maybe what annoyed you most is how handsome he is. Or that you find that blonde tuff of hair on him cute. You wanted to get close to him, but he was so damn untouchable. Or maybe that he always seemed to he around someone or in a group.

Not only did the spotlight seem to always shine on him - literally and metaphorically - it meant that your eyes were always drawn to him, whether he enters the room or also takes the stage. He never played solo, and it infuriated you how you paid attention to him when he never plays to outshine your classmates. Now that you think of it, you weren’t sure what he was going to do for his final performance. Surely, he was already part of a group or something since most of your classmates excitedly discussed what they could perform with him the day the teacher announced the event.

“Is that the one you will be performing? I hope it is because you will do perfect; you play beautifully.” Ezra adds, praising you like he would with anyone else. You remind yourself that his compliments meant nothing more other than him just complimenting you. But it didn’t stop you from getting flustered though.

“It’s not a big deal…” You mumbled, looking down at the piano keys, but Ezra only laughs softly and gently disregards the thought:

“Actually, it’s a big deal. Mind if I volunteer to be your audience?”

‘No. Go away.’ the thought bubbled whilst your face twisted into a look of horror. Ezra immediately made note that maybe he was invading your privacy and your allocated time for practice.

“Apologies, apologies,” Ezra laughs sincerely, “I best be on my way.” He steps back out of the door, but you called out to him.

“N-no, you can watch… just.. I don’t know - don’t look at me.” You said without thinking.

Ezra pauses, and slowly, the gentle, kind smile of his appears once again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You stare at the black and white keys, your hands in position, yet never pressing. Your fingertips start to form thin layer of sweat and starts to tingle into a numbness. It was as though you lost all of your ability to play.

Ezra sits right in the centre. The spotlight is on him again. It made all of your your focus redirected to him. Even if he sits far away, it still feels like he is right beside you, looming over you.

“What’s wrong?” Ezra’s concerned tone fills the auditorium, easing off the pressure you’re putting on yourself.

Sighing, you turn to him.

“Honestly, I’m too nervous.” You muttered, embarrassed of how shy you’ve become. You turn to look at him and oh how you wanted to roll up your music sheets and use it to smack that smug look off his face.

“Because of the eventual performance, or because of my presence?” Ezra asks as if teasing you.

Your face heats up as you frown at him, pursing your lips to stop a quick insult from escaping.

“Because of the performance! I’m nervous of the performance!” You snap, flustered.

“Really?” Ezra asks, knowing it was a lie. He pretended to express curiosity in his eyes. “Just not long ago, I was certain I heard a confident pianist whilst outside in the corridors, as though it was Liszt himself.”

Your face heats up as you try so hard to refrain yourself from falling into the trap of his charm.

“Shut up and just... go away!” You huff, helpless and embarrassed.

Ezra laughs softly then gets up from his seat and makes his way towards the stage with his violin case. A flash of anger spreads across your face. “What are you doing!?” You ask hastily as Ezra sets his violin case on the wooden floor of the stage.

“I too would be nervous if I were to perform a piece that is both romantic and like a love letter.” Ezra said, not answering you question, as he takes out his violin and bow. "It's like you're confessing, isn't it?" He smiles knowingly, but you convince yourself that he's saying that in general. You grow more and more nervous as he comes around to the side of the stage, walking up the stairs to join you. He keeps the same soft smile, one that tells you that he's not going to bite, and he positions himself on the stage.

As soon as he gently places the bow on the strings of the violin, you then look at his hands.

…His hands…

How does a violinist’s hands compare to a pianist's?

You thought about how his hands would also have gone through many hours and years practicing and mastering the violin. How Ezra would have had to learn how to adjust and adapt his fingers whilst thew grew and be able to play the softest of notes and never snapping any strings. How strong and sturdy they would be as well as pressed marks of the strings would be imprinted on the tip of his fingers.

Or how they would slide up and down along the strings of the neck of the violin with a gentle grip.

…

How would they feel on the skin of your neck?

Ezra glances back at you and catches you staring - but he will never catch the unwanted thoughts you were having of him just then. You blink at him and grew flustered once again.

“Shall we?” He asks politely, smirking as he winked.

“Y-you’re just going to play along with me? Duet?” You ask, stammering as you try to mentally rid of the unwanted thoughts and collect yourself.

“Yes. I’ve been practicing this one for a while, and I suppose I am curious to hear how it will sound if I were to play with a pianist.” Ezra says matter-of-factly, offering an encouraging smile. But you only grow more flustered that he wanted to play it with you. It just had to be you. There were other pianists from your cohort. Why you?

“Now… are you ready?” Ezra asks, eagerly. You supress saying another word that will delay in beginning yours and Ezra’s little duet, and position your hands on the keys once more. You take a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

“Yes. I’m ready…”

And you start to play.

The moment Ezra enters the piece hitting his first note, there was an immediate connection shared between the two of you. The sound of the violin accompanying the piano felt as though it opened a door that freed the pain of loneliness you buried yet carried within you.

As you close your eyes and let your fingers flow with the keys of the piano that you have practice thousands of times, the strings of the violin continued to guide you, putting your heart at ease. You felt like you were soaring. You felt that moments like this reminds you why it is worth opening yourself up again to the person who would keep it warm and protected.

Or maybe that was the effect of the song itself. It's supposed to be dream-like.

Ezra glances at you whilst he plays the violin, smiling to himself as he sees how much you are enjoying yourself for once.

Maybe that’s why Ezra is favoured to be part of a duet, trio, quartet or whatever number of instrumentalists are needed to be in an orchestra… He knew how to adjust himself to one’s rhythm and tempo and make it all sounds beautiful… He was the one to bring it all together, as if he was the one orchestrating, but he was the one people sought for and relied on him to lead them. You saw him how amazing he is at improvising too during one class…

Maybe it was all because he was an intuitive soul and knows how to use his head and his heart to create and express what he wants with his hands.

The final note rings throughout the auditorium. You look at Ezra and finally ask, “So why me? There are others in our class who can play the piano, Ezra, and they’re obviously better than I am. You could even perform this one for your assessment with them… you know I only do solo…” The way you murmured the last line sounded as if there was a weight pushing you down, and it was one you no longer want to carry anymore.

Ezra looks at you as kept looking down at the piano and fidget with your fingers.

“It’s rather simple,” Ezra begins, “I walked by and heard someone playing this song. It was the sign I needed to bring forth what I held close to mind.” Ezra’s smile reached his eyes, his enthusiasm beaming at your disbelieving eyes that rolled.

“Besides… I like the music you perform most, and I think I know what I’d like to do for my final performance.” Ezra laughs quietly. “I’ve been wanting to accompany you for a while, and this must be the perfect time.” You weren’t sure if he was subtly confessing to you about his feelings, but you were busy feeling sick by the fact he actually pays attention to you when you share your work during class.

It felt… wrong. Like you don’t deserve it and that it should be someone else.

Ezra picks up the look of doubt and speaks again, using the same kind and gentle tone.

“Whether you like it or not, you have a gift. Anybody who takes a seat in this room -” Ezra gestures towards the empty seats, “or happens to witness or step into your presence, they are going to be blessed by what you bring with your talent.”

Ezra pauses, letting his words sit with you before he continues.

“There’s a reason why you chose to play this one, isn’t there? There’s always been a reason why you pick the songs you play, correct?” Ezra’s question hangs in the air for a few seconds, the kindness and the knowing tone encourages you to answer.

“…Because… it’s what I feel… It’s easy to play music that resonates with me, rather than showing off the technicalities and the intricacies of ‘difficult’ pieces… I’d rather score high in taking the courage to show my heart than just perfectly executing technique from the composer… it’s…” You sigh, holding back the truth that love was all you wanted, and Liszt’s song was best at expressing your desire to be seen after all you have been through.

“I just want to enjoy myself for once and express how I really feel and be seen for it… because anyone could replicate what Liszt wrote on the sheet, but nobody could replicate what he felt when he played...” you trailed off, not wanting to share more of your demise.

Ezra looks at you, pondering at your words for a few minutes.

“Well,” he says softly, “I see you. I hear you.”

Your heart stutters as you look at him, eyes wide in shock. Ezra smiles at you, tilting his head to the side as he looks at you affectionately.

“I see you.” He says once more, hoping it reaches you like how your performances reached him.

“Oh…” is all you could say, causing Ezra to chuckle. He then starts to walk towards the edge of the stage.

“I should also expand that you are the gift as well. Do not sell yourself short. It’s about time people start seeing you for who you are, and that you are valuable always.” Ezra says your eyes follow him as he hops off the stage and packs up his violin and bow.

Before he leaves the auditorium, he glances at his watch and looks back at you, “care for a coffee?”

Normally, you would decline, but maybe just this once it wouldn’t hurt to say yes. It’s not like he’s asking you out on a date.

And so you agree.

“Hopefully we’re not too late to make arrangements to become a duet as well.” Ezra grins.

Indeed, it wasn’t too late.

[venusguks]

Solace in Seoul

— Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x Fem!Reader (Reader x Kim Taehyung on the side)

— Summary : the falling apart of you and kim taehyung, and the coming together of you and jeon jungkook

— Genre/Warnings : plot driven, angst, smut, fluff, sugar daddy/baby relationship, student/teacher relationship w kth, bsfs2lvrs w jjk, unprotected sex, creampie, degredation, oral (f receiving), jk just wants to love you :(, jk is the absolute sweetest really, spit drinking?, praise ( TW : MENTIONS OF FAMILY ABUSE/BRUISES )

ACT 1. | 134340

The first time you talk to Jeon Jungkook again, your mind is elsewhere, absorbed in the lingering absence of Taehyung.

Spring's gentle breeze carried distant laughter and a faint melody from the music club two floors down. The sky carried drifting clouds, the ocean carried rising tides, and you — You carried the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Or at least it felt like it.

The piles of envelopes concerning last two months’ unpaid bills have been devouring your dinner table and heart alike. After receiving the countless of threatening voicemails from your landlord, you'd be naive not to expect a visit—but opening the door to Mrs. Joomi’s bitter scorn didn’t make you feel any less anxious. Juggling two part time jobs all the while maintaining A’s and B’s was nothing easy to accomplish. Hell, living wasn't even easy, and yet, it was like nothing you did was ever enough.

Grief was your composer and you were her violin—her cruel euphony reverberated through your tears when you sat on the cold kitchen floor last night, sifting between your savings that barely made up one month's rent. On top of your midnight breakdown, your dad decided to come home yesterday out of all days and, well, you know how that goes.

The door clicks open, interrupting you from your trance. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

Footsteps pad closer until Taehyung is right next to you. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans back against the metal railing, facing the opposite direction. It's quiet at first. You've noticed long ago that your relationship with him was one that was filled with silence. “Somethings bothering you,” He’s the first to break it. Neither of you take your gaze off the cerulean blue sky. “You could tell?”

“Of course I can, angel," his voice is cool, gentle, and it carries you away with the wind. "You dozed off through the whole lecture today."

Shame tinges your cheeks with the faintest pink, “oh... I’m sorry. I was paying attention, really, I was just—"

"Love," he saighs, "you have nothing to be sorry about. You could skip to sleep in the nurse's office for all I care. I'm just worried about you."

“What a good teacher you are,” you smile, a teasing one, but Taehyung chuckles dryly. “Trust me, if I was a good teacher, I wouldn’t be doing this," he sounds apathetic, but that doesn't stop you from frowning. You finally turn to look at him, his curls of deep brown swaying. “Taehyung... please don’t say that. You’re an amazing teacher, everyone knows it.”

You hoped he knew how genuine you were. God, you hoped to the moon he knew just how good he was. Taehyung may have already been admired for his captivating smile and his nonchalant energy, but everyone respected him for so much more. He was the type of teacher everyone wanted—the cause of counselor’s headaches every autumn for receiving heaps of transfer requests. Even parents and teachers fawned over him, baffled to see the passing rate in math tests accumulate over the years. It hurt that he didn't see that, and it hurt more knowing he didn't think he was respectable because of you.

The man tilts his head to look at you, smiling softly. “You know I’m only joking, doll.”

“Whether you're joking or not, I still... it just worries me when you talk like that,” you pause, "....do you really feel that way?" Do you really regret this?

Taehyung sighs, and the jeweled rings adorning his fingers are cold against your skin as he tucked loose strands of hair behind your ear. “Worrying is my job, angel, so tell me what's been on your mind instead."

If Taehyung noticed the hurt in your eyes, he chose to ignore it. He always did this. You got it, really, you did. There were boundaries for these sorts of relationships. One step closer would bring him one step back, which was why you never probed him any time he disregarded your questions. But a selfish part of you still felt it was a bit unfair, a bit painful to feel him slip away, to realize he was never there in the first place.

It was strange, how he made you feel. His thumb grazed your lips, his breath was light on your skin—if you concentrated hard enough, you swear you could hear his heart beat. He was only inches away.

So why did he feel so far?

Taehyung was your your lighthouse, your harbor, your shore. Through the snowy December nights where his fingers traced sensuous lines down your bare stomach, to the Spring showers of March where his cold lips brushed your inner thigh—Taehyung had always been your solace.

You knew tangling in sexual affairs with your teacher in return for sealed envelopes was wrong, but how could something so sinful feel so heavenly? The unspoken acts committed underneath draped curtains and moonlight's veil felt too dear to you to be called impure. By your sixth rendezvous, you started to wish the intimacy you shared with him could go beyond silk sheets and star speckled lust.

“I want you to confide in me too,” you said one night under the reluctant shadows of warmly lit candles. “I want to help you too, Taehyung. Please, let me help you.” You could tell he's been agitated the whole week, but you'd been too afraid to ask, afraid of him pushing you away. You didn't know where your courage came from then, all that you wished to be more than a distraction. “I don’t need you to help me," Taehyung growled, and you let out a muffled whimper when he rolled your clit with his tongue, your thighs trembling as you reached for his soft curls. "B-But I care a-about—ahn!" You arched your back as he inserted a finger inside of you, curling into your sweet spot with frightening accuracy. "Don’t need you any way else other than this, doll. Just be good and silent for me." That morning, you woke up to a bed void of the man you loved; a white envelope being the only remnant of that night.

You sighed as you recalled that memory, brushing your own fingers over his, tracing the metal bristles of his rings. “Its nothing."

“Don’t say that, angel. I know it’s not nothing."

“Really, Taehyung, i’m fine. Just stressed is all.”

“Stressed...as in financially?” Your sudden tenseness affirms his assumption, making him sigh. "You could've just told me earlier, angel. Tell me how much you need." A repulsing mixture of shame and self resentment brews in your chest, hardening like bitter dalgona. Dirty, despite money sparking your secret arrangement from the very beginning, that’s how you felt every time it was ever brought up. “Hey, look at me doll," as if reading your thoughts, Taehyung gently draws your face close to his with two hands cupping your cheeks, noses barely brushing. “Don’t ever feel guilty about this. Just treat it as an early birthday present, yeah?"

You couldn't help but frowning, your hands roaming the access of his collarbone. "You already do so much for me, Taehyung...I just...I-I feel bad." You failed to notice how rigid he became then, how his eyebrows dipped with evident frustration. "Y/n, you know that—"

Click!

Before you even realize it, you and Taehyung are off each other. When the blue, paint-scraped door opens, sleeked shoes and lively banter are welcomed by two students, diminishing with a glance at the both of you. "Ah, Mr. Kim, there you are! I was looking all over for you. What are you doing here?" A girl's eyes shift from you to the chestnut haired man. Taehyung easy recollects himself as he pats your shoulder, wearing a professional grin. "I stumbled into y/n here, was just giving her some advice but we’ve finished. What did you need me for?”

"Oh...well, about finals week..." You almost let out a sigh of relief as they continued their conversation, but your breath is instantly caught in your throat when your gaze flickers to the boy right next to her.

You were too startled by the sudden interruption that you haven’t completely processed his presence. You almost wish you hadn’t though, now that his doe, big brown eyes mirror your own.

Jungkook was unmoving, and you could've guessed he was conflicted—whether to say hi or to stay silent. Even if you were in the same grade, it was rare to see his face among the carbon copied uniforms. Class C—1 and C—4 were the furthest from each other, and with being the student council event coordinator, you were either neck deep in documents or tucked in the seclusions of the rooftop.

But due to the proud morning announcements and the hushed whispers of admiration, Jungkook never really strayed too far from your orbit. Referred to as the school's golden boy, Jungkook was loved by everyone. He was friends with members from the fashion department to the swim team to the gardening club—Hell, even the occult club. Teachers and students alike wore lenses of adoration for their school’s pride and joy while you tried your best to look away. He may have been in your orbit, but you were two different worlds, encapsulated by the universe but separated by light years of meteors and stars. Jungkook was a nameless planet to you, as you were to him. You never brought yourself to think about it—never had the time for anyway, so seeing him there, floating with the drifting clouds, even you felt a tad bit shaken.

“—kook...Jungkook, hey, Jungkook! I’m gonna go get my assignment with Mr. Kim. Come with?” He blinks profusely, averting his attention from you to the girl wearing raised brows. “Uh, no thank you. Breaks gonna end soon anyways, I think I’ll stay up here. See you after school though?”

“After school,” she clicks her tongue, waving before disappearing down the stairs. Taehyung lingers for a second longer, his eyes flickering to you. “Well I’ll see you next period, Jeon. Bye, y/n." With that, the door shuts behind them, welcoming an air of awkward silence.

Jungkook is the first to clear his throat, “hi, its been awhile," his earrings dangled with his every nervous movement, and you wondered when he'd gotten all his piercings. "Y-Yeah, its been awhile..." you repeat densely as you watch him take the spot Taehyung left, respecting a distance but not standing too far away. He rests his forearms on the metal railing, his elbow barely brushing yours. “Do you usually come up here?"

"Only during lunch."

He hums, "that explains why I never see you."

You frown, both in curiosity and confusion. "You look for me?"

“I-I don’t!” He sputters too quickly. “I just...its just an observation. We’re in the same year after all, and you’re never with the rest of the student council members.” Your brows raise in amusement, “that's surprising.”

“What is?”

“I didn’t think you remembered my name—honestly didn’t think you even remembered I existed.”

“Of course I remember,” he chuckles, “we’ve been friends for 17 years. How could I forget?”

“14 years,” you reminded softly, “we’ve been friends for 14 years.”

A star in Jungkook’s eyes must have died out when you smiled sadly at him. “Oh...right...” he rubs the nape of his neck, sighing. “This is strange, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you agree, “strange.” And there it is again. Spring’s momentary silence. You watch as the sun slowly disappears behind sailing clouds. Talking to Jungkook, being alone next to him, was maybe even a little bit uncomfortable. After all, you guys had so much history—where do those film rolls of sun seeped memories go? It was as if they floated all around you, tying your fingers together like the red string of fate. After all those years of suppressing them, it was intoxicating, adamant to be remembered.

“This reminds me of middle school,” Jungkook brings your head back from the sky. “In 5th grade, the highest we could go was at the top of the garden shed. We spent all our breaks there, staring at clouds, complaining about Mr. Lim being too grouchy, or wondering where we'd go after school—what ice cream flavor we’d get at the convenience store. Do you remember?”

"Of course I do," despite yourself, your heart softens to the recollection. It was your secret hiding spot, blocked by the slant of the roof and the trees barricading the other side. The sky, wind, and Jungkook had been your only escape from the problem solving in math and the problem solving you had to do on your own when you were 10, wondering what the budget for that week's grocery would be. “We thought we were so cool, that we were on top of the world.”

“Correction, you thought you were so cool. You even promised to show me your own space ship, remember?”

“God, please don’t,” you groan, covering your face with your palms. You knew exactly where this was going, and you guessed Jungkook still knew exactly how to embarrass you. “You told me you were a space—“

“—adventurer!” You beamed a toothy grin, two hands proudly on your hips. Jungkook looked up at you with sparkling eyes, pupils as large as beloved full moons. “You mean...an astronaut?”

Your smile immediately drops into a disappointed frown. You demanded upmost reverence, so you didn’t really appreciate it when he questioned you. “No, no. Not an astronaut. A space adventure. s-p-a-c-e a-d-v-e-n-c-h-u-r-r. Gosh, Kookie. If you want me to bring you along in my journeys, you have to keep up.” Jungkook only nodded, trying his best to stifle a chuckle. He won the 3rd grade spelling bee, so he was at least 85% confident the word adventurer didn't have a 'ch' in it.

He decided to let it go though. He knew—the same way he knew that you’d certainly cry if he corrected you—that you were afraid of heights. If it took weeks to encourage you to finally climb a roof, he was the certain you wouldn’t be able to handle the height of the galaxy. But then again, he always had a soft spot for you. “I’m building a space ship right now actually! Its called the Bon Voyage. When it's finished, I’m going to Pluto. You won’t believe how big space is. There are strawberries there!"

Jungkook’s eyes widened at your silly declaration, and even then, he felt sad. He knew that being a space adventurer—being able to maneuver gravity and time on your own whims—was only an innocent imagination of escapism, but still. Every single time you’d flinch when a hand was brought up near you, every time you’d pull on your jacket despite it being hot, he wished your imagination could be real. Wished he could make it real for you—keep you safe from earth and all your troubles.

“I’d like to see the strawberries.. with you,” Jungkook smiled softly. You grinned, and it was the most precious thing Jungkook saw as you stuck your pinky finger out. “Then it’s settled, I’m taking you with me.”

“To pluto?” He wrapped his small finger with yours, and you sealed it with your thumbs pressed against each other's. “To pluto!”

Jungkook was in a fit of laughter, and despite burying your face further into your hands, you couldn't help but smile. “I can’t believe you knew I was lying. God, I must’ve looked like a total idiot.” His elbows were pressed against yours now, sending a surge of warmth to your heart at the familiar skin ship. Jungkook must have not noticed, for he only kept giggling, and you certainly wouldn't bring it up. “It was cute, really. The strawberries and everything. It was really cute.”

"Whatever, Jungkook," you rolled your eyes, and uncovering your eyes, you looked at him. Truly looked at him this time. His smooth, unwrinkled uniform. His hair that grew over time, kissing past his eyelashes and swaying with the wind. The tiny mole peeking under his bottom lip, the familiar scrunch of his nose as he grinned widely. The speckled brown of his eyes were so warm, almost dreamlike against the golden sun. Under long years of an uncalled contact, of an untouched hand, of a voiceless wonder—‘how have you been?’ ‘what was on your mind today?’—you saw the Jungkook you once knew, your dearest friend. And with his smile, you found your heart aching and full at the same time.

ringggggg!

The alarm jolts the both of you, severing spring’s heartbeat as loud chatter and footsteps disrupt the moment from open windows.

You only stare at each other for a brief second before you give a half smile, “that's the bell, we should go.” Without waiting for an answer, you followed the pace of the rest of school, but before you could take a step down the staircase, Jungkook takes your hand. His grip isn’t tight or rough. Its gentle, reluctant. You turn around, and the sun is behind him, kissing the back of his head with its golden, stray flakes.

"What is it?" You furrowed your brows. “I...its just..." It takes a moment before Jungkook speaks, cheeks tinged with a faint red. "Y/n I, I miss—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt in masked panic, averting your eyes as you pulled your hand back. In truth, you were scared. Finals week would be soon and you didn’t think you could handle any more mental strain than you already had, especially not with him. “I-I think we’re going to be late.” Jungkook eyes widen for a second, stricken with dejection. He mumbles, “right...”

You don’t dare to look at him, turning away, you say, “it was nice talking to you again. Bye, Jungkook.”

ACT 2. | DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR

The second time you see Jungkook again, the spring showers are sharp against your skin. You had just gotten off from your 6 hour shift, and where the sunset hues of timid pink and vibrant yellow were supposed to be, the overcast sky was instead. It's been about 30 minutes since you clocked off, but you knew your dad was home, so you decided to take the long way back.

It didn't matter that you were a blur of blue walking in grey tainted streets. Didn’t matter that the downpour soaked your clothes or that cars occasionally splashed you with murky road puddles. You could be anywhere, and anywhere would be better than where your dad was.

Droplets drooped down your eyelashes, dribbling down onto your phone. It’s screen illuminated your color drained face. You stared at Taehyung’s contact, biting your lip nervously.

YOU :

hey taehyung, can i come over? if that's possible of course|

hey taehyung, can i come over? i|

hey taehy/

.../

i need you|

Your thumb hovered over the tempting, blue send button. Press it, Y/n. Just press it. (But would he mind?) He said it was okay to ask for help. (But... what if he's busy right now?) It's okay to ask. (You'd just be bothering him. If you're too needy, he'll push you away, you know that.) Just press the damned—

“Y/n!” A hand reaches your back, and although it was a mere brush, you yelp in alarm, instantly stumbling back. When you're sure you're about to be submerged into a puddle, a hand firmly grasps your forearm, steadying you as the said person pulls you closer to them. The rain stops—or rather, patters against an umbrella now hovering over you. Your eyes flutter from the hand holding you to the hand holding the umbrella handle, and lastly, the holder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jungkook half laughs. When you don’t reply, your mouth only agape, he adds, “are you okay?” It takes you a moment before you nod. You were close, as close two people could be under a small umbrella (or was it because Jungkook has gotten really big?), so you take a step back. But before you could feel even one raindrop on your face again, Jungkook pulls you back into him, “I don’t want you getting sick, y/n.”

“I’m already soaked anyways,” you frown, but he only disregards you. “Where are you heading?”

“Nowhere.”

When his brows threatened to crease, you add, “Got off work a few minutes ago, I was just taking a stroll.” Jungkook opened his mouth, and you were sure he was going to say something in the lines of, “in the rain? have you gone mad?” But to your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers intertwine with yours. “My homes not far. Come with me?”

"Your...home?” You repeat dumbly, disregarding how warm his hand was—how you missed it, how right it felt in yours. “Yeah, if thats okay with you. If not, then mind if I walked with you?” You pause, taking in Jungkook’s attire. What he was doing in a button down, black trousers, and sleek shoes, you didn’t know—but his dry state save for the few droplets on his clothes meant that he'd much rather prefer to be under a roof. You weren’t sure if he was going to take no for an answer, and being under shelter did sound pleasant. At least, more pleasant than being in wet socks. “Okay,” you say, “take me home.”

When you arrive, you're relieved to discover Mr. and Mrs. Jeon are on a business trip. You missed the Jeons, truly—they were the only family you’ve ever known, but you didn’t think you were ready to see them again.

You remembered Jungkook’s house being an absolute palace when you were a child—modernized with elegance adorned with a scenic garden and a clean landscape—but it still didn’t fail to leave your jaw agape. Expansive was always an understatement. “Here, get changed,” Jungkook hands a towel, an oversized sweater and sweatpants, and of course, fuzzy socks. You only nodded as he led you through the familiar halls to his room. “Just call for me when you’re done, kay?”

“Mm,” you mumbled, still in a daze even after he left. Bittersweet nostalgia filled your nostrils with the scent of vanilla and almonds, a soy candle he still apparently loves. It's only been three years since you’ve last set foot on his grey, hardwood floors, but you still noticed the subtle changes. Instead of pokemon action figures—burnished, golden trophies filled his glass shelves. They were only a few Jungkook was really proud of, otherwise his room would be brimmed with his accomplishments.

Picture perfect polaroids capturing euphoric memories and cheerful grins scattered Jungkook's walls. A refined stereo set replaced the bright blue boom box of your childhood, the one covered with doraemon stickers and scratches. Memories of 4th grades' January flooded your mind, when the blandness of the month was disrupted with color as the two of you jammed to Ego by JHOPE on repeat. Jungkook may have added and taken a few things out, but you found anchor in what stayed the same. His plants that hung from the ceiling were still there, ivies draped with growth over the past years. Kim Namjoon, Jungkook’s long time idol, smiled from a framed poster on his wall. Everything was still polished with his neatness, a habit you had always commended him for.

As you dried your damp hair, a photo frame catches your eye, sitting on the side of his bookshelf. Your breath catches in your throat. You slowly walk to the dainty item, painted white and blue to resemble noon skies. In the corner of the frame ignited a bright, pale limerence. Sparks of vivid blue and tangerine whipped through the wooden confines. You felt your heart thump against your chest. It was a—

"Daytime shooting star!" You gleamed, holding a paint brush into the sky, the handle rough from years of dried paint. It was a hot summer day, a few weeks after the end of seventh grade. Cicadas sung adamant songs through Jungkook's cracked open window as the two of you sat on his floor, blanketed with a fuzzy iron man carpet.

He looked at you quizzically, "a daytime shooting star?" As far as Jungkook knew, there was no such thing. "Yeah," you chirp. "That's you, Kook. You're my daytime shooting star." Jungkook nearly dropped his paint brush then, risking his favorite carpet as he looked at you, wide eyed with stun. You were wearing his t-shirt as per usual, your face smudged with blue paint and an innocent smile. Jungkook hated you for it.

It was always your choice of words—my Jungkook, my Kook, my Kookie, and now, my daytime shooting star—that he swore would be the death of him every single time. He didn't even know what you meant, but he didn't care, because being called yours was enough to kill him.

"Th-Thats stupid," he mumbled as he looked away, a futile attempt to hide his burning cheeks. "That doesn't even make sense." When the air shifted to silence, Jungkook immediately regretted his words. He quickly turned back around, fearing he accidentally hurt your feelings due to his own fluster. Maybe that was when Jungkook realized you really had grown up since the 6th grade, because this time, tears didn't drip down your cheeks. Instead, your eyes were curious and doe as you tilted your head to your side. "Does it matter?"

"What?

“A lot of things don’t make sense, but does it have to matter?” You frowned.

“I-I don’t—”

“I like you a lot, Kook,” and though you weren't at the least bit shy saying so, Jungkook’s emotions exploded everywhere. “I don’t think you need reasons to like someone, but you’re my daytime shooting star, Kook, and that's my reason. Can't I just like you? Does it...does it have to make sense?”

It felt like light years as Jungkook stared, red as he looked into the golden specks of your eyes, glinting from the blazing sun. “I-I don't know,” he gulped, his voice small. He was going to leave it at that at first. He didn't know what to say—what he could say. His mind was as clumsy and berserk as a deflating balloon to your previous words, but when he saw your sullen eyes and mopey pout, he felt an inadvertent panic in his gut.

His eyes shifted to his boom box. Etched on the side of the speaker was Doraemon, giving him a childish wink and thumbs up. Jungkook groaned in annoyance and you looked up, curious as he scratched the back of his head. "M-maybe we could...see it," he mumbled, barely grumbling, but your heart leapt with every syllable of his words. "Someday, together. The—"

“Daytime shooting star.”

You jumped, instantly whirling around to see Jungkook leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his torso. His eyes were soft, as if his gaze itself caressed you. “Y-You...” your thumb grazed the flimsy wood. “You still have this.”

“Yeah, and I still don’t have a photo,” he chuckled, making his way towards you. “14 years of friendship and you’d think we’d finally have a perfect picture to put in the frame.” It was pretty silly now that you thought about it. Despite spending a whole summer’s day decorating the item with childlike ambivalence, you never allowed Jungkook to slide a photo in it. No, it couldn’t just be any glossy photograph. You fussed over the concept of a perfect portrait, but nothing ever satisfied you enough, and with each passing year, it must've slipped your mind.

“I don’t get it... We haven’t talked for like, three years, and you still have this?”

"Does it have to make sense that I did?” Jungkook tilted his head, his eyelids lowering to look down at you. You open your mouth to reprimand him for using your words against you, but no words come out. Fuck. You swear it was his eyes—you’ve always said they were full of magic when you were children. It must’ve been that damned spellbinding luster that stole your voice. “What did you mean?” Jungkook takes a tentative step forward.

“Huh?” It came out like a breath.

Maybe it was the dim incandescence of the room, complementing the silhouette of his sculpted physique. Maybe it was the fact that the cloth he wore seemed too thin, too tense around his biceps and broad shoulders. Maybe it was because his first three buttons were left unclasped, teasing the faint outline of his chest. Or maybe it was the fact that you were so used to being in eye level with him—hell, looking down at him in the earlier points of your life. But you realized then, as Jungkook stared at you with a glint you couldn’t seem to quite recognize, how small you felt in front of him. Under him.

“When you said I was your daytime shooting star. You never explained it to me, what you meant,” Jungkook takes one final step forward, and the distance between you is insignificant. You don’t move—didn’t even think you could with your back pressed against his bookshelf. You could only return his gaze, doe eyes wavering beneath his. “What I meant to you...what I still mean to you.”

Your breath hitches, “Kook...”

“Fuck, I missed that,” his voice is low, breathless as his fingers brush your cheeks. “So fucking much, Y/n. I missed you calling my name, whatever you say. Kook, Kookie, Jungkook—I don’t care, just missed your voice, I still do. Don’t you know? Everyday, how much I long for you?”

Your eyes widen at his assertion. Wherever this was coming from, you didn't have the heart to stop it. "J-Jung—"

“—I miss you, Y/n. Any time I'm not around you it hurts and every time I am it hurts even worse.” His voice is so gentle, you fear he could hear the rhythm of your heart beat, palpitating with the heavy raindrops against his window.

“Why....why did you push me away?”

The waves were restless that cold, autumn night—you saw it through the fogged window of the train. Exhaustion tugged your eyes and your muscles screamed with every movement. As the train tracks rumbled beneath you, you wondered if you were even alive anymore, at least, it didn’t feel like it. All that was certain to you was the midnight stars outside, following you no matter where you went.

You didn’t know when the train entered the station, sighing to a stop as the doors slid open with a loud gush. It was probably 2am—Maybe 3, and the carts didn’t hold people this time around. At least you didn’t think it did, you honestly didn’t have the energy to even think about it. You only wondered how further you could go without knowing exactly how far you already went. Your neck ached from your head hanging low, and if it was cold, you didn’t feel it. All you felt was numb. An aching, dull pain eating away at your heart.

It was when you heard rushed heaves and loud footsteps that your eyes widened to see a familiar pair of green converse stop in front of you. You lift up your head to see Jungkook, cheeks red either from crying or the cold, maybe both. His brows were deeply furrowed as he crouched down, his hands gripping your shoulders.

“C-Can you hear me, Y/n? Are—are you okay?” You only nodded. He felt like a mirage, a dream.

You didn’t know what he saw in you that caused the droplets of sorrow to drip from his eye—whether it was the bruises covering your body, or the deep eye bags from restless nights at work—but it made you sad, how he looked at you. You wished he’d stopped. You wished you could be so far away that he didn’t have to look at you anymore.

“You’re, fuck, you’re freezing,” Jungkook quickly pulls his coat off and swathes it around you. “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry I didn’t get here earlier.” You shook your head, your dull headache being replaced with confusion. “Why are you even apologizing, Kook? H-How did you even find me? Why are you even here?” You had turned off your cell the whole day and gave no indication to where you’d be. You didn’t even tell Jungkook how you were feeling, it made no sense to see him there, holding you.

“We’re soulmates remember? Of course I’d know,” Jungkook tries his best to give a smile. “I’m here because you are. Just—look, lets get you out of here first okay?” Before you can tell him you can walk by yourself, he lifts you up, taking your hand as he leads you out. “The next train back to Seoul arrives in 8 minutes,” Even when Jungkook and you sit down on a bench, he doesn’t let go. He’s shaking, you realize, with his fingers intertwined with yours. It was as if he wanted to hold you tighter, but he was afraid. Afraid of what? Afraid of hurting you? Or afraid of you hurting him if you slip out of his grasp any further?

“How did you know?” You begin again. “I told you I was sick, I called the school too. A-and how did you even know where I was?”

“You called in sick for three days Y/n,” he frowns, “and you haven’t texted me once. I was so worried, fuck, I was so fucking worried when I went to your house to see that you weren't there. All my calls went straight to voice mail, and I saw...I-I saw the shattered beer bottles, the blood. I-I panicked, even thought of calling the police,” when your face goes rigid, he assures you, “of course I wouldn’t though, I would never do that you. But anyway, it took me awhile to guess, and I wasn’t even sure—just started running. I imagined you’d definitely be in a space ship to Pluto right about now, but I took a risky bet on the train station. You know, being much more accessible to us and all.” When Jungkook finishes light heartedly, you give a dry laugh, “you know me so well, Koo."

His small grin falls shortly as silence does, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb on your hand. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet, sad, “You always...you always said you’d bring me. We’re a team aren’t we? You and me, I-I thought...I would’ve been there, Y/n. You know I'd be there for you in a heartbeat. Don't you trust me?”

"Of course I trust you, Kook," you quickly assure him through your thin veil of tears. It hurt too much to know you were the reason for the crack in his voice, for the ache in his heart, for his glazed eyes. You couldn't stand his pity, but you couldn't stand being the source of his grief either. "Then why didn't you call me..? All I ever wanted was to be there for you, all I ever want is to be by your side, y/n. Why won't you just let me help you?”

“Because you don’t understand, Kook,” you croak. “You don't understand how hard it is for me—how hard it's always been. It'll only ever always be like this, and I-I can't just...fuck Kook, I can't just depend on you every time I get hurt. My problems are for me to sort out, I have no one but myself.”

“But you have me, y/n," the tears you fought so hard to hold back falls when Jungkook covers both your cheeks with his hands. The boy inhales sharply, trying to calm himself from crying any longer as he presses his forehead against yours. "It hurts me so much when you talk like that, y/n. You have me, you always have me. A-and it scares me because sometimes it just feels like I don't have you, that I never did and—"

"Jung—"

"You’ve been so distant lately," his breath is shaky and hot against your skin. "....It feels like you’re going to leave me. Please, don’t. Don't leave me behind like this, y/n.” You don't say anything else, too overwhelmed with his heartache beating with yours. In that cold autumn night, all you could do was cry in his arms.

The train arrives shortly.

“Lets go home," Jungkook murmurs sweetly against your skin. He kisses your forehead softly, and when he does, it feels like you already are home.

“Come here,” he grins, standing up with his hand out. You take it. “Have you eaten yet? I can make us food when we get back. What would you like?”

“Honestly? Just ramen.” Jungkook groans as you step inside the desolate train cart. “You know I could cook something way better for us."

"Nothing is better than ramen with eggs, Kook," you chide, giggling when Jungkook rolls his eyes. You take your hand away from him, and Jungkook tenses, only to relax when you cup his cheek once more. “But seriously, thank you, Jungkook. For everything. For worrying, being here for me, for finding me." He smiles, his eyes like crescent moons luminescent with love as he looks down at you, "always.”

"You said you'd do anything for me right?”

“Of course, anything, y/n.”

“Then please stop after this," you keep your small smile even as Jungkook's brows furrowed with confusion. You said it so simply, so plainly that he thought he might have heard you wrong. "What do you...?"

“Nothing will change after this. Nothing. I can't escape from my life, I can't escape from debt or my dad no matter how hard I try—and being the cause of your anxiety won't help me. I don't need a savior, and I don't think you need me holding you back either. We're burdening each other Kook.” With a heavy gush, the train doors start sliding shut and before Jungkook can even comprehend your words, you step out. “Don't have worry about me anymore, okay?”

“W-Wait— y/n—!” He’s quick to run, but it's too late. The doors slide shut, finally severing the thin red string of fate that held the two of you.

The rain falls with your tears as you cry into your hands, guilt washing over you like tidal waves. You remember his face the most, how heartbreak and betrayal etched with the dying fade of his smile. How you left him that day, how you left him everyday after that.

“I-I was just so tired, so tired of everything. I... I'm so sorry I pushed you away. I just didn't want you to worry about me anymore. You were always so good, everything about you, and I was scared I was holding you back and...and it hurt too much to stay knowing I was." Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your waist as his other hand gently pulled your head to his body. You're too stunned to move, but when you gather yourself, you decide you don't want to. You just cry, burying your face into his chest, your hands tightening around his shirt.

"I never once stopped thinking about you, y/n," he mumbled into your hair. "I never once not worried, never once not looked for you, and you—god, y/n—you never once held me back. Silly girl, don’t you know you were the only one who kept me together?” Jungkook lets out a noise, somewhere in between a sigh and a groan as he lowers his head onto your shoulder, "I did everything, anything to keep myself distracted from you. Competitions, sports, art, studies, friends.” His soft hair tickled your jaw as he nuzzled closer into the crook of your neck. “But I couldn’t, y/n, it was always you, it was never not you. Do you know how torn I was, watching you and not being able to talk to you? To hold you, be afraid of losing you even more than I already had?"

The pitter-pattering of the rain against the rooftop fills the voice you can’t seem to conjure. "Did you ever miss me?” Jungkook pulls away, and your eyes lock with his under the blue world. You realize then, by looking at him, just how scared he was. If you pushed him away again, he didn’t know what he’d do.

Reluctantly, you bring your hand to sweep Jungkook's tousled bangs away, brushing your fingers against the shell of his ear. "I did," you whisper, and more clearly, "I-I did, of course I did.” When Jungkook doesn't respond, your hand trails down his neck ... to his shoulders ... to his chest. "Do you hate me?"

Jungkook inhales sharply, "N-no." He could never.

"Your heart is beating so fast.... are you afraid?"

"I am."

"I am too," you lift his hand and place it against your own chest, laying it atop your own heartbeat. Thump, thump, thump, you don’t catch the pink of his cheeks when you’re too busy staring at the sad stars in his eyes. "I was too, back then. I know it's selfish, and i-i'm sorry I hurt you, but I hope you understand what kind of position I was in. I was so young, so scared—I just wanted to be alone, felt like it was a way to protect myself from anything else that could hurt me. I’m different now, I think, more stable—whatever that is," you chuckle dryly. "I can’t promise I won’t push you away, but I won’t leave anymore, really, s-so...."

Jungkook's eyes soften, his lids lowering when you say, "Can you trust me?"

"Of course," Jungkook breathes, “always.”

ACT III. | EPIPHANY

"Just go to sleep already, Jeon."

You've been repeating yourself for the past 3 hours, watching him restlessly saunter around his room. "...swear i’m missing something, I just don't know what..." Jungkook, like the countless of other times, dismissed you as he continued to tap his finger on his chin, mumbling to himself in intense focus. It was only when you’ve finally had enough, groaning and hurling a tissue box at him—which he instantly caught with ease—that he finally noticed your glare. "What was that for?"

"I said just go to sleep already!" You exhaled frustratedly, "you packed your whole room at this point, Kook. I swear you have, like, triple of everything you don't even need—so for the thousandth time, could you please just shut the lights?" It's been a few weeks since that one spring evening, and time started ticking again with Jungkook by your side. It took you awhile to adjust to his company, it was odd—but everything was odd at this point. Odd but comforting when Jungkook started visiting the rooftop every lunch, odd but reassuring when he'd pick you up after every shift, and odd but exciting to spend the night with him before the anticipated field trip to Jeju island. The four days were a granted escape before the tumultuous finals of the upcoming winter. Even you were a bit eager to go, having finally taken a justified leave off work.

"Fine, fine, but if I do end up forgetting something important, I blame you," Jungkook huffs, sauntering to the light switch. “Go ahead,” you roll your eyes, and with a small click!, a satisfied sigh escapes your lips. “Finally,” You snuggled into his pillows, but when the bed dips down right next to you, you realized you had forgotten to ask Jungkook to shut his mouth as well. "Will you sit next to me on the way there?" You squinted to the darkness, raising your brows at the silhouette of his figure. "Jungkook, you're literally my only friend, do you even need to ask?" He chuckled, "but will you? We don't have to sit with my friends if you don't want to."

You hummed, thinking as Jungkook carefully brushed loose strands of hair away from your face, the warmth of his fingers trailing down the side of your neck. You were reluctant about being seen with Jungkook at first, but the choice wasn't left to you when his friends spotted you and him at the library sometime ago. It honestly wasn't as bad as you expected, and more surprisingly, you even clicked with a few with them. Seokjin was one you gravitated to the most, being a truly funny and charming senior that you felt you could look up to. "No, it's fine. I like your friends." Jungkook’s head perked up, and the darkness captures the bright twinkle in his eyes. "Really, you do?" You smile, knowing how happy that must have made him. "Really, I do. Now can we please go to sleep? I'd like to be at least remotely awake for the first day."

“Okay, okay, grumpy head," a bunny like grin appears on his face as pinches your cheek, chuckling when you only grumble in return.

He strokes your hair down one last time before placing a kiss on your forehead. “Good night, y/n.”

"Good night, Kook," the reassuring warmth of his skin leaves yours, and you hear him shuffle in his own mattress on the floor. It's been awhile since you've felt like this, so safe. Though it didn't necessarily matter, being with Jungkook was different with Taehyung, you noticed. When it came to Taehyung, it was as if all your problems could dissipate with his touch. That for a moment, they could just disappear.

When it came to Jungkook, though, your problems were still there. They existed, they were real, and yet, when you with him, it felt like everything would be okay. He was like a breath fresh air, and you felt like you could get through anything—whatever it may be, as long as he was there. With that thought, you slowly, but surely, drifted to sleep.

ringgggg!! ringgg!!! ringggg!!

What happened afterwards came in fragments of fuzzy memories, distorted with exhaustion. It was the phone ringing first, then it was the shuffle of Jungkook rising from his mattress. The ringing, his heavy yawn, the ringing, groggy footsteps, the ringing, the clatter of the drawer—and finally, silence. "Y/n...?" His voice barely reached where your mind was, deep inside the depths of whatever dream dimension you were in. "Y/n," he said again. No reply. "Y/n... Y/n!"

"What?!" You groaned, lazily sitting up with a snarl and a bed head. The ringing starts again and you rub your eyes to where your phone screen illuminated Jungkook's face. "What is it?" You mumble, a little concerned to his expression. "God, is it Mrs. Joomi again? I just paid this month’s rent like a few d—"

"Mr. Kim."

You freeze. The two, single words are akin to iced buckets of water being splashed onto your face, instantly waking you up.

"Taehyung with a heart and moon emoji—but that's Mr. Kim, isn't it? In that photo? That's his first name." Your heart lurches forward. 태형☽<3, displaying a low quality photo of him that you secretly took while he was preparing breakfast. It was once a happy morning, and this was once a happy night—disrupted by its forbidden rays of joy.

When Jungkook finally looks at you through the stark darkness, you can only stare back, your heartbeats filling the silent stun of your dry throat. The bubbly melody stops, and when you don't say anything, Jungkook's voice grows louder, "Y/n what—what the hell is this? Why is Mr. Kim calling you at 3am? Why do you have a photo of him? Why is his contact—"

"J-Jungkook," You nervously moved to sit on the front edge of the bed, attempting to speak as calmly as you can. Jungkook would understand...right? He wouldn't tell, he couldn't. He knows you, your financial situation. It was okay. "Remember when you asked me not to push you away? Well, this is me letting you in. This is me trusting you Jungkook, so please just hear me out." Under the moonlight's glower, you see the bob of his adam's apple rise and fall. "Taehyung, he—"

"Taehyung?" You wince, the acidity of his voice like bitter poison. "I-I mean, Mr. Kim. M-Mr. Kim, he...helps me."

"Helps you?" Jungkook scoffs. "At 3am? How could he—" Suddenly, Jungkook's eyes go wide. "Y/n, you don't mean..."

You nod stiffly, "he gives me money in exchange for....i-its consensual! He helps me," your cheeks heat up, hating yourself for allowing this to happen, having to explain yourself. “A-anyway the point is, you won't tell anyone, right? You understand, don't you, Kook?"

"Understand?! Y/n—he’s a teacher! He's seven fucking years older than us—are you stupid, what were you thinking?!" The sting of his words ring in your ears like a harsh slap across your face. Throughout your years together, Jungkook had barely had the heart to scold you, so you were more than unprepared for his hurtful words. Your shock quickly subdues into anger though, and you stand up, “what I was thinking? What I was thinking?! I don't know Kook, maybe thinking about my fucking electric bill! Thinking about how to pay off debt—how to buy food for fuck's sake! I've looked after myself my whole life, and this is no different."

"Still—This is wrong, y/n! You know that! There are other ways like, like—"

"Like what Jungkook?!" You're in front of him now, pushing at his chest. "Working my ass off in nine to fives? Well I do that, Kook, every fucking day and yeah, a fucking disappointment for me too that it's not enough. You could never know how its like for me, but out of everyone, you're supposed to...! You’re supposed to understand,” you chuckle bitterly, shaking your head as a futile attempt to shake the hot tears away.

"Y/n...” Jungkook’s anger diminishes into a frustrated panic. He tries to reach for you, hold you, anything to keep you from crying because of him—but you turn away, and despite himself, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He sighs harshly, his voice much softer now, “I just—out of all these years, you could've asked me. I was always there, y/n, and you never accepted me. I know we talked about this already, but the fact that...” He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I do understand, but I was always here. I was your best friend, why did you have to go to him? Am I...am I that unreliable to you?"

Your own heart sinks for him this time, quickly shaking your head. “No, Kook. I-It's not like that. I'm sorry this has to be so complicated, that i've made you feel small. You are reliable, Jungkook. You're my safe place, my person—always have been. I appreciated you so much but you need to understand how terrible it felt for me back then. I hated being pitied by you. You’re my friend, not a fucking philanthropist."

Jungkook takes your hand this time, "I never wanted to help you because I pitied you, y/n. You were always so strong, I don't think you could ever be someone I could pity. I wanted to help because I cared for you, loved you, and it breaks my heart knowing that you went through such lengths when you could've turned to me."

You sigh, threading your hands over the back of his hair. "It was all just circumstantial, Kook. Taehyung found me at a really low point in my life. I didn't search for it, but he was there and i’m thankful for yim, so please Jungkook, please." Your eyes wavered beneath his sad stare, hoping, pleading. Jungkook bites on his lip, cursing, "look...I won't tell on you if that's what you're thinking. I would never do that to you, i'm just worried. He's calling you at nearly 4am, y/n—shit, h-has he hurt you? Did he ever make you do anything you didn't want to?" Jungkook looks frantic for a second, but you quickly shake your head. "N-no! No, god no, he's never hurt me! You know him Kook, Tae would never hurt me." You miss how you even said Tae or how Jungkook's jaw clenched to it.

"I won't say anything, y/n, at least...not yet. You have to end it."

"W-What?"

"He took advantage of you in a low position in your life, y/n."

"N-No Kook, you don't understand!"

"It's not your fault, y/n, it's completely his. He's the adult here, it was wrong. You have to end this."

"But I can't! The money, Kook, you know I can't."

"Then let me help you," he steps closer. Your hands slide to his chest now, shaking your head. "No, Jungkook, my answer has been no and its still no. I refuse to be your charity case," you scoff. "Then you're not going to be. I'll pay you to sleep with me too."

Your eyes instantly shoot open. What..?

"I'll pay you to sleep with me," he repeats calmly. "Anytime you need it, anytime I want it, and I'm certain I'll be able to give you more than whatever Mr. Kim could." Your mouth only hangs open, words dying in your dry throat.

"What's wrong?" Jungkook asks, taking a step closer. This time, you take a step back. "If you were fine with doing it with Mr. Kim, shouldn't it be fine with me?"

"N-No," your voice is barely a shaky whisper. More clearly, "No, Jungkook. I can't just—we just started talking again. You're my only friend, I won't ruin us just for—"

"I won't let anything happen to us, I promise y/n."

"B-but—"

"You don't have to worry about it, okay? Plus, isn't this situation more ideal? You'd get paid more and you wouldn't have to rely on—"

"I love him!"

Its Jungkook's turn to be silent. "What..?"

"I love him Kook," you croak, heat overwhelming your cheeks.

"Y/n..."

"I know it's wrong, I know he seems like an asshole but he's not. I know him, Kook, and i’m mature enough to know myself too. I made my decision back then, and I keep making it today because...I love him." You can’t help but feel your anguish trickle down your eyes, and you cry into your hands. That’s it then. It’s done. You’ve finally admitted it, yet despite the burden of the untold truth lifting—you felt heavier, worse. By now, Jungkook would’ve pulled you into a warm embrace. He’d hush you with soothing murmurs and delicate kisses on your forehead. He’d trail his fingers through your hair, tell you that he knew, that he gets it, that it was okay. But he doesn’t. He couldn’t. You were crying for another man, and all he could feel was ache.

Your phone rings once more, and from the night stand, you see Taehyung’s figure on the dimmed screen. You reluctantly look at Jungkook, but when he doesn’t say anything, his expression unreadable, you take it. "H-hello?"

"Hey, doll," Taehyung's voice is low. "I’m sorry I keep calling, I feel really shit for waking you up at this time. I know the Jeju trip is in a few hours, but I just needed to talk to you."

"No, no, its fine. I was already awake anyways, um...what is it?" You turned away from Jungkook, nervously biting on your lip. Despite everything that had unfolded between the two of you, it was strange. Taehyung never called you at this time after all—and him saying you guys needed to talk only heightened your nerves.

"It's better to talk in person. Where are you? I can pick you up." You shake your head, despite not him being able to see you. "N-No, i’ll come over...is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course, I'll see you soon." With that, the call ends. You can feel Jungkook’s eyes on your back—its overwhelming, and you’re scared to face the definite disgust and judgement in his them, so you don’t look at him when lift your bag across your shoulder. "I’m sorry, I...I need to go.”

ACT IV | LOVE IS NOT OVER

Jungkook hasn't seen you since last night. You never showed up at the meeting spot, never answered his calls or texts—never even once read the 68 of them.

He was certain you came, though—he checked in with Mrs. Yoon before boarding, but you were always good at hiding, and Jungkook was always an impatient seeker. The whole process of arriving, checking into the hotel, and splitting into groups was a whole blur that ended in him never finding you. After spending hours exploring the designated routes through antique shops, cute cafes, pretty sceneries, and meadows with his friends, he started to fear that you didn't come after all—that Mrs. Yoon had made a mistake.

Surely, he would've bumped into you at least once through the whole trip. And where the fuck was Mr. Kim? Jeju was supposed to be the pinnacle of his highschool experience. He’d be elated with the giddiness of being out with his friends, kissed with the gift of delicious freedom. But it was 7:46 PM now, and even when he overlooked the vast beach dipped with sunset's entrancing glow, he felt anything but. Not when Seokjin cracked his lame dad jokes, nor when Eunha got him to bike through scenic trails.

Jungkook sighed as the strawberry milk clattered to the bottom of the vending machine. He spotted it tucked away from the corner of the museum his group wandered into. He excused himself, relieved that their chaperone actually trusted him to be by himself. He needed the space.

He poked the straw through the carton, leaning against the cold metal as his eyes gazed over the glistening waves. He hated you. Always leaving him like this, always making him restless and unsure.

It was when he looked for the moon in the dusk sky that he noticed a familiar silhouette amidst the shore. It wavered with the wind, and Jungkook instantly felt his scorn. The man's jeweled hand was holding a cigarette between two fingers, overlooking the ocean with distant eyes.

Fuck the sand, fuck his expensive shoes, fuck everything. Jungkook doesn't know when he starts running, but he doesn't stop.

It all happened so past—the sun would have missed it if not for the perfect view she had just over the excited ripples of the ocean. When Taehyung noticed his presence, it was already too late. Jungkook had grabbed his collar, and without a second of hesitance, punched him across his face. Taehyung fell into the sand with a grunt, cursing loudly. “What the fuck?!” He turned to his perpetrator, his glare quickly diminishing into pure shock to see his own student right in front of him, eyes poisoned with resentment and hatred.

Taehyung's emotions came whirling at him all at once. The confusion, then the anger, the urge to scream at him and punch him until he was left bleeding on the shore—then the mediating side of him, understanding that he'd done more than enough to get his ass fired, why the fuck would he...?—then the realization. He sighs roughly, shaking his head as he stands. He isn't up for long though, as Jungkook takes another swing. Taehyung’s cheeks scream with stinging pain, but Jungkook’s on top of him, and he doesn’t stop.

"You fucking bitch!" Jungkook seethed, barely feeling his fist continuously bury into Taehyung’s face. He knew. He knew how much you loved him, he knew Taehyung helped you. He knew you'd get angry, maybe even hate him for the rest of his life for this—But maybe that's why he couldn't control himself. He didn't care if you thought Taehyung was some angel. To him, Taehyung was just a disgusting predator who took advantage of your situation, and deep down, maybe it was more for a selfish reason. Taehyung was a man who touched you, who had you—who wasn’t him. "You disgusting fuck. Don't ever fucking touch y/n again, you hear me?!" Another hit, but Jungkook is too blinded with anger to realize the scary amount of blood drooling down his nose and lips, from the cuts of his cheeks. "I know," Taehyung rasps.

"If you know then why did you do it?! You’re a fucking creep, you’re disgusting.”

"I know," another hit, and blood stains his shirt. Taehyung curses and grabs Jungkook's fist before he can throw another punch, pushing him into the sand. "You dick, I swear to god, I swear to fucking god I'll fucking kill you." Jungkook thrashes under Taehyung, but the teacher buries both his wrists into the ground, his weight holding the younger boy down.

“Sh-Shit, Look, I know how you must feel about me, and I know I deserve this, but I would much rather avoid being seen like this so I'm going to say this quick and you're going to listen."

"Fuck you," Jungkook growls, glaring at the man on top of him. His eyes were unreadable, almost enigmatic, and Jungkook hated every unwavering speckle of deep brown in it.

"I don't regret it," Taehyung disregards him. "I liked her—y/n—and no matter what you think of me, that stands true. You must like her too, she told me about you some nights. I have to admit, hearing about another boy when she's laying in my own bed wasn't very pleasant for me, but you made her happy. You mean a lot to her," Jungkook shut his eyes tightly, cursing as he tried to get the image of Taehyung holding you in his arms out of his mind. "I know you don't think I care about her, but I do, so just fucking listen for a second okay? I know i'm no good for her, but you aren't either. You're too immature, we both know y/n deserves way more. See where you are now? Right under me when you could be there for her? Have you even seen her today? Have you asked her how she's been?"

"What... what the fuck are you saying."

Taehyung sighs, and stumbles back to stand, wincing as the harsh winds slap his bloodied face. He nimbly looks for his cigarette, and before he lights it, Jungkook grabs his lighter. "I said what the fuck do you mean?!"

"I ended it with her," Taehyung glares at him, his voice firm, cold as he snatches the lighter back. Jungkook feels his heart drop. “You...what?"

There's silence, and when the man turns to look at the sun drowning into the ocean’s abyss, he lights the cigarette, "the fireworks are starting soon." Jungkook's eyes widens. Before he knows it, he's already running.

You’ve always loved the fireworks.

His footsteps that were submerged into sand were now padding against the concrete of the sidewalk, his heart pounding in his ears. A few cars must have honked at him here and there as he ran through the streets, unknowing of his surrounding because all he can think of his getting to his destination—you. He frantically reaches for his phone, panting.

You

JK : where are you?

my love : my room

my love : 613, 7th floor

JK : on my way.

ACT V. | HOLD ME TIGHT

At least the fireworks were pretty.

Your eyelids drooped, puffed with drowsy red as you watched the sparkling scene on the balcony of the hotel. Evening's cold breeze teased your bare legs, dancing with the delicate ends of your black, satin nightgown. You were hugging yourself yourself, leaning against the cold railings as sparks of vivid red shatter into memories tainted with heartbreak. The red silk sheets that you grasped tightly beneath you. The red lingerie that Taehyung slid off your skin. The red wine he poured into the pan when you told him you were hungry. You liked watching him the most, you thought as he stood in front of the stove, his eyes trained on the steak. You liked watching him unbutton his top, talk about his day, how he let out loud laughter whenever a funny story would come up. You loved when he unveiled himself for you, when he'd strip off his enigmatic persona bare and let you peer into his soul.

But that's all you ever did, you guessed, all you ever could do. You watched him when he smiled down at you, his cold fingertips brushing your waist, and you watched him as he left.

It must've been 4 minutes into the firework show when you heard the doorbell ring. Sighing, you leave the balcony as yellow ignites the night sky. You open the door to Jungkook, his chest heaving up and down, his hair tousled by wind, beads of sweat sticking to his neck.

When he doesn't say anything, and neither do you, you step aside to let him in. You wonder if he was still angry about last night, how he'd react when you tell him—but with the way he looked down at you, tender eyes dawned with sadness, you already understand you don’t have to. "I know," Jungkook steps closer, pulling you into a hug. His warmth embraces you as darkness does when the door clicks shut. "What happened, I know."

You sighed, closing your eyes. The fireworks sounded so distant compared to his heartbeat. Jungkook must've ran for you, you thought as your buried your face into his chest. Of course he would, he always has. Maybe that certainty is what intoxicates you to murmur, "I'll accept it."

"What?"

"What you proposed last night, I'll accept it," you say calmly, quietly. You looked up at him with wavering eyes, "please...I need you right now."

Jungkook's heart practically lurched out of his chest. He knew he should take a step back, tell you that you'd end up regretting it and to take it back before it was too late. He knew, but the devil on his shoulder was much more insistent than his angel, and maybe... maybe his angel wanted it too—so fuck it all.

Jungkook took your lips in a magnetic dance, drawing you closer into him with one hand on your lower back and the other behind your head.

God, you were so lovely. How your head lolled for him, soft, plush lips jarred open. Jungkook has always been good at controlling himself when it came to you, but when he heard the slightest whimper escape your trembling lips, he felt he couldn't hold himself back any longer.

He didn't seek for permission to suck your lower lip, didn’t even seek permission to slide his tongue inside your lovely little mouth when you gasped. He held your chin, deepening the kiss. More, more, more—he wanted more of you. He wanted to explore your body, wanted to make your breath tremble, wanted to find out what you liked and disliked under bedsheets. Jungkook wanted to know you better than anyone else had. He wanted you, needed you.

“Kook,” You whimper into him as he pushes you against the wall, holding your thigh up. He grinds his bulge against your clothed cunt, sending wild tremors along your nerves. “F-feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He takes your other thigh, and you yelp as he lifts you up. Your surprise quickly washes out with haze when he buries his thick tent further into you. You let out a moan, wrapping your legs around his torso. “I can make you feel even better.”

The explosions of the fireworks are blurred with the palpitations of your heart as Jungkook lays you on the bed, his lips immediately finding home in yours. "Love how you sound for me, love," Jungkook’s wet, needy kisses trail down your neck...to your collarbones...to your breast. “So pretty like this, always so pretty,” his fingers ghost your sensitive nipples, perked from evening's cold. He doesn't waste any time to take one nipple into his mouth, his fingers playing with the other.

His cold hand trails down your stomach, finally pressing it down your soaked underwear. He smirks, feeling the soaked outline of your pussy lips. “Already so wet for me baby? How cute."

His plush lips leave your nipple with a pop, instead latching onto the crook of your neck. Your eyes go wide when you realize what he's about to do. “Wait, d-don’t! Not th—ah.” He doesn't allow you to finish your sentence, swiftly sliding your underwear out of the way before pressing a hard thumb over your clit. “Don't deny me, y/n,” His voice is low over your whiny moans. He sucks on the supple of your skin as he slides one, slender finger into you, smoothly drawing it in and out while he rolls your little bud with his other. “Please, need to show everyone that you’re mine,” he murmurs, licking his work, perfectly tinged with a pretty pink . “Besides...” he trails, taking note of your arousal dripping down his wrists. “You love this, don’t you?”

“N-No..! I...ah, K-Kook, Kookie..!” Your voice fails you, moans escaping from your trembling lips. “Jungkook s-stop..!” Jungkook frowns against your skin, and he lifts his head up to meet your gaze. “Why not?” His eyes are dark. You try to fight the muddle of your mind as his slow, tentative fingers continue to work on your cunt. “B-Because...because student c-council. It's inappropriate, and your friends will ask, a-and... mm!—“

“Taehyung?” Jungkook says bitterly, but you’re too indulged with the knot in your stomach. You moan loudly, your hands finding anchor wrapped around his biceps. “I'm sure you don’t want Taehyung to see, do you?” Jungkook's pace is furious now, and you barely make out his words through the thick fog of your mind. You feel so close. “Don’t want him to know that you're with me, hm? That i’m finger fucking you into my dumb whore."

His indecent words paint a wild blush on your cheeks. You never knew Jungkook could be like this, could be so mean.

"You know what I think..."

Jungkook lowers himself down between your sweaty thighs, quivering with painful pleasure. "''Think my dumb babygirl wants me to clean her messy little pussy up. Would you like that, love?"

"Y-Yeah," you moan, desperately bucking your hips up, "p-please eat me out, Kook."

"Needy girl," Jungkook lets out a sigh, his pants tightening around his painful hard on. You were so pretty like this, Jungkook swore he could cum just by watching you.

You almost cry when he pulls his fingers away, instead squeezing around your squishy hips. You do cry, though, when he gives your pussy a tantalizing lick, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. "Knew my baby girl would taste so sweet," he groans. His tongue circles around your throbbing bud, sucking on it.

"Fuck! K-Kook, I-I can't," you wail, tears falling down your cheeks. Jungkook only flutters his eyes open, watching you with heated eyes as his tongue works on your wet cunt.

"Please, g-gonna cum, please!" Your back arches. Jungkook's hands the only thing anchoring you down.

"Then cum, baby, cum for me." Jungkok's voice is tender, coaxing like warm honey. With his encouragement, your dripping cunt spasms, unfurling your cream all over him. "That's my girl," His attentive tongue takes your sweet release, the embarrassing sound of slurping clouding your brain.

"You were so good for me, baby," He cooes, planting one final kiss on your quivering bud. Your cheeks tinge with a shy pink.

He lifts himself up, carefully laying over you so his forehead is pressed against yours. His eyes search yours under the veil of the moonlight. The fireworks must've stopped along the way, your heavy breaths filling the quiet room. "Tired, love?" Jungkook whispers, and you nod timidly, reaching your arms out to hug him.

Your skin is sticky with sweat like melting ice cream on hot summer days, but Jungkook adores his body pressed against yours. His fingers squeeze your smooth waist, placing gentle kisses on your neck, up your jaw, capturing your lips once more in a slow dance. A thin string line of saliva connects the two of you when he pulls back, and he breaks it off with a gentle graze across your wet lips.

"Think you can continue for me, baby?" Jungkook asks soothingly. "It's okay if you can't, of course. Must've been such a long day for you."

You shake your head, your hand lightly tracing the outline of the small scar on his cheek. You still remember the day he fell off his bicycle, somehow managing to tumble down the hill all the way to the train tracks. It must've been the first time you ever saw him cry.

"I want to."

"Are you sure?" His eyebrows perk up. "Because we really don't have to. I don't ever want you to feel like you have to please me. I know you took my offer, but if you aren't ready or comfortable, nothing has to happen. Believe it or not, pleasuring you already makes me feel euphoric." His words have you melt, gentle as a sweet night's lullaby.

"But I want us to feel good together," you say softly. "Please take me, Kookie. I want you." Jungkook's eyes widen, faint pink blooming on his cheeks, and you watch the stars in his eyes grow brighter with your shy gaze. He lets out a small chuckle, "god, you really don't know what you do to me, y/n."

He places a gentle peck on your lips one last time before rising to his knees, discarding his clothes. You're quick to slip off your nightdress and underwear, and you patiently admire Jungkook's toned physique as he worked to unbuckle his belt. Even the moon was enamored with him, tracing its luminous glow from his broad shoulders to his biceps, wrapping around his slim waist.

Your breath hitches when his dick springs out right in front of you, thick and swollen, oozing pre cum. Jungkook watches you with heated eyes, his hand grazing his dick. "Wow," you breathe, sitting up and replacing his hand with yours. Jungkook's hisses when you stroke his cock, doe eyed to his length that throbbed with neglect. "You're so pretty, Kookie. You're pretty everywhere..."

"I should be the one who's telling you that, darling," he lets out a shaky breath through his smile, his hand finding your cheek. "Now, i’d love for that lovely little mouth of yours to suck my cock, but I feel like i'm gonna explode any minute now, and i'd like to do so inside of you," he chuckles when a furious blush takes your cheeks. You let him push you down, positioning himself in between your legs. He takes his pulsating cock in his hands, sliding his glistening head over your cunt. "Would you like that baby? Want me to cum in this cute little pussy? Wanna take Kook's cum like a good girl?" You feel yourself shy from his words, whimpering, "y-yes please, Kookie."

"Tell me how much you want it, baby."

"S-So bad. Kookie p-please, want you to fill me up."

"Yeah?" Jungkook chuckled, a cocky smirk on his lips that made you tremble. "Think your tiny pussy can even take my cock?"

"Y-Yes, m'pussy wants your cock, p-please Kook!"

"Dirty girl, love it when you beg for me," he pushes the blunt head of his cock into your swelling entrance, already having you see stars by the time he fills you up whole. "You okay?" Jungkook breathes out, his forehead falling against yours. You nodded timidly, "j-just need a little time to adjust."

"Okay, baby, tell me when you're ready." He pecks your nose, letting out a shaky sigh as your walls clench around him. When you do, Jungkook takes your knees, pushing them on either side of you so your legs are spread out wide for him.

He pulls out his whole cock so he could see the flush tip of his cock before plunging back into you. You moan loudly to his even pace, bottoming you out with every thrust.

"F-fuck, been wishing for this forever. Just want to punish this pussy for making me wait for this long."

Harsh skin to skin contact and the squelch of your juices mixing together fills your fuzzy mind. You felt so full, you could practically feel him in your belly. "Shit, you're practically swallowing me. You like this, don't you?"

"Y-yeah, love your cock, Kookie," you moan, his pace growing faster and more unforgiving. "I'm never letting you go after this, fuck y/n. You're mine, you’re so fucking mine. Say it, say you're mine, p-please."

"Yours," you whimper, feeling the familiar tingling ecstasy overwhelm your stomach. "O-Only yours, Kookie."

"That's right, baby, open your mouth." You didn't know exactly why, but you didn't question him. He could tell you to do absolutely anything right now and you'd do it. Your wet lips jar open for him, and Jungkook spits in your mouth, sending a wave of tremor through your body. "Swallow."

You listen, obediently swallowing. "That's my girl."

"Kookie, kookie...m'gonna cum!"

"Again baby? You’re so easy, barely have to do anything and you're spilling." You moan to his words, thrusting in and out of you in a hypnotic pace. "Go on then, baby. Cum for me, make a mess over my balls."

Your whole body tenses, feeling the overwhelming wave wash over you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you release around him the second time. "Good girl, baby, so good for me, fuck," Jungkook hisses to your tightening walls squeezing around him, driving himself into your belly until he pours all his cum deep inside of you.

You practically drooled, his load coming out in spurts of thick cream. When he pulls out, your pussy twitches, his cum oozing out. He falls onto your chest, and your heavy pants fill the room.

After awhile, Jungkook lazily pulls you to lay over him. "Okay, baby?"

"Mm," you murmur into his sweaty chest, trying to recollect your breath. You open your mouth to thank him, but a loud explosion takes your voice. In a second, waves of yellow wash the room, then blue, then purple. Your tiredness subdues into drowsy awe. You sit up and Jungkook does too, positioning you on his lap. "I think this is the second show. Timing is fitting don't you think?"

You giggle, and Jungkook sees daylight in your eyes. "Too fitting. I'm starting to think that this was all part of some big plan."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, laughing as he tucks a hair behind your ear. "Silly girl, of course it is." You look at him quizzically. "We're soulmates aren't we? The universe is just celebrating us."

You smile, sighing as you lean into his chest. "Whatever you say, my soulmate." Jungkook's eyes widen. He felt twelve again, dumbstruck euphoria overwhelming his love for you any time you called him yours. His shock settles into a soft smile, holding you in his arms while you watch the fireworks. It takes him awhile to realize your eyes are closed though.

"Sleepy, love? Thought you loved the fireworks."

"I do," you giggle, pushing him down onto the soft mattress. You snuggle into his chest. "Just listening to your heartbeat."

Jungkook blushes. He was going to urge you to clean up, but with you looking so cozy on top of him, he knew you'd much rather rest. He sighs lovingly, stroking your hair. He hasn't felt this happy in awhile. "About your payment, I’ll wire $800 just for tomorrow, but we’ll officially talk about the—"

“Shhhh!” You grumble, burying your head further into him. “Don’t wanna talk about money right now, just let me be with you.”

Jungkook blinks, and you look up to him with a pout. Purple lights up the seoul's night sky, casting an soft glow on Jungkook’s face. He chuckles, thumb brushing your cheeks.

"Needy girl.”

a/n : wooooo this took the longest time to write. its pretty bulky so whoevers got to this point i love you sosososo and i hope you enjoyed my work ! feedback is welcome and super appreciated, reading comments really do make my day <3 i was thinking of making a sequel/continuation for this but im not so sure ,, we'll see. anyways, i hope you have a lovely day my loves ! stay hydrated and healthy, i hope you eat good food today. make sure to take care of yourself too !

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here!

A/N: I apologize for all the profanity in this part ahead of time. I think I’m going to do M/W/Sat updates, as long as my writing permits, and then maybe Wed/Sat updates. I got the day off because it snowed so I thought I would post this since it’s ready haha

* Well you’re royally f*cked

* There’s a big stupid smile curled on your face, and every time you try to hide it, it just comes back wider

* You really shouldn’t be happy right now

* “What has you in such a good mood?” Edward’s got a matching smile of his own.

* Oh shit. It’s fine, you’ll just play dumb.

* “How do you know I’m happy?” How about the dumb grin you’ve got on your face you stupid b*tch.

* You would have smacked your own forehead if you weren’t aware Edward was watching your every move

* You’re lucky Edward’s nice and he doesn’t call you out on it

* “Whenever you’re happy it kind of radiates off of you,” his voice lowers “you know because of your powers”

* Ah, you didn’t know you did that

* “So what do you think about the new girl?” You blurt it out like it’s an intrusive thought

* F*ck. Just-okay just play it cool. Play it cool.

* F********ckkkkk what’s wrong with you.

* Is being happy making you act like a moron?

* He shrugs

* “Just another human, I kind of wish everyone would shut up about it though. Having to hear people talk about her and think about her is getting annoying. It’s like being in a tunnel with one too many echoes.”

* Ah, so he hasn’t noticed yet.

* “I wonder what she’s thinking about.”

* Edward just shrugs again.

* What the f*ck Edward take a hint!

* “Edward?”

* “Yes dear?” He has the nerve to grin after using that pet name. The criminal is teasing you. Some best friend.

* And still it makes you outrageously happy

* You have to force your smile into a straight line

* “What’s the new girl thinking?”

* He looks over to her, Tyler and Mike are fighting for her attention, both of them a moment away from tugging on each arm and shouting “mine!”

* You see him search, you’ve heard enough about his powers to know right now it’s like mall food court level of chatter for him, but in a few seconds he’ll focus on her and realize he can’t hear her thoughts.

* Knowing how prideful he is though, he’ll probably deny it.

* “I don’t know I can’t read her mind” he says bluntly. “Do you think the school music teacher would teach me how to play violin if I asked?”

* “What?!?”

* “I know it’s kind of inconsiderate to ask but-“ you click your tongue

* “No not that!” You gesture towards Bella “you can’t read her mind?!? Isn’t that kind of a big deal?”

* His eyebrows thread together

* “I can’t read your mind either”

* Yes but you’re from a completely different world, in a body that radiates despair (and apparently joy now). You’re basically like some type of eldritch being from another dimension. 

* Edward doesn’t see it that though

* “Honestly it’s a relief, one less mind I have to tune out.” He walks ahead of you as you stay motionless in the middle of the hallway

* What the f*ck is happening?

* “Are you coming? We’re going to be late for Biology if you keep lagging behind like that.”

* How could you forget? The whole story starts because Edward is super into Bella’s blood! He fantasizes killing her for like- the entire class period.

* You were worried for nothing, just because they didn’t have the cafeteria moment isn’t that big of a deal

* The thought makes you both relieved and a little sad

* Still it’s for the best, this is the way things are supposed to be

* And who knows, if you have to leave maybe you can poach Rosalie and Emmett to leave with you

* And maybe Jasper, he won’t like having a human around the house all the time

* “Mr. Cullen, Ms. Eleazar” Mr. Banner hands you each a worksheet.

* Oh right the onion cell worksheet. Ah right the mitosis crap. Well hopefully Mike remembers enough that you both can hobble through

* “New year means new seating arrangement!” He tells you both excitedly. The seating arrangements on the projector.

* “Why am I next to Edward isn’t the seating arrangement supposed to be alphabetical?”

* “I decided to go by grade this time, you should be happy! Aren’t you two...friends?” You can tell your teacher is confused by the nature of your relationship, almost as much as you are. 

* “Super happy Teach.” You mumble taking your seat next to Edward who’s grinning like an idiot

* “You can’t say he’s picking favorites when it’s merit based.” He grins and you roll your eyes

* Angela’s sitting next to Ben Cheney, they seem to be discussing the trigonometry homework, and how it’s basically impossible

* Oh right, he’s supposed to be her boyfriend this year. 

* Personally you think Angela could do way better. But love is blind, you’ll ship it if you have to. 

* And right on cue Mike walks in, Bella following close behind. He takes his seat on the table behind you while Bella talks to Mr. Barnes

* “Why didn’t you guys sit with us at lunch today?” Mike is practically leaned over the entire width of the table.

* Before you can say anything Edward snorts

* “Because (Y/N) was getting lectured for staying out all night again”

* Mike looks like his eyes might pop out of his head

* “W-what? Out all night?! Without inviting me!” You roll your eyes.

* “He’s making it more dramatic, I went out for a run early in the morning because I couldn’t sleep and everyone was freaking out because they thought I got kidnapped.”

* Like any vampire or human stood a chance against you and your violent mood swings

* Mike’s so caught up in lecturing you about how you need to be more careful

* “There’s a lot of weirdos out there!” Yeah you live with them

* That he doesn’t even notice Bella’s taken a seat next to him

* Now that you get a better look at her, she is kinda pretty. She’s the kind of person who probably always looks good in photographs, no matter what the angle. Nice cheekbones and big brown eyes. Modest on boobs and butt, but she’s skinny so it works for her.

* “Hey, you’re Bella right?” You give her your friendliest smile, and you don’t miss the light blush that blooms on her face.

* You’re not sure whether it’s from your beauty or because she’s just not used to so much attention. She just nods.

* “Have you already seen the three whole things there are to do in Town on a Friday night?”

* Bella actually laughs at that. She’s got dimples, and little wrinkles that show up at the corner of her eyes. It’s cute.

* “One of those things is going to the library, so really it’s only two things.”

* She giggles again.

* “Is the other one going over to your house to play monopoly?” Mike asks, a grin arching onto his face

* “No my house is out of town, the other thing is to go to the school football game”

* “I’m not really a big fan of football” Bella hesitantly says, and Mike and Edward laugh

* “Yeah no one here does, everyone goes for the half time show, or just to hang out.” 

* You’re pretty sure your entire friend group only goes to the games to see your cheer routine, especially this year since you’re captain now. The first junior captain in a long time apparently. The news actually made the local newspaper.

* Everything is going good, and you’re starting to think maybe you and Bella might be friends.

* “Why don’t we have a board game night at our house again? Last time was-“

* You stop sentence, you were having so much fun you almost forgot why Edward was so obsessed with Bella.

* The slight breeze from the air conditioning brings her scent to you.

* You cover your mouth and nose with your hand

* Her scent is REVOLTING

* “(Y/N), are you okay?” Mike asks

* You vaguely feel Edward’s hand on your shoulder, has he not caught her scent yet?

* It’s pretty hard to miss

* Like gym socks, with a overly sweet base, it’s like-

* Your head snaps up, and your hand clamps over your mouth and nose even harder, but not because the scent is revolting

* She smells like cheese, perfectly aged Gorgonzola cheese, or maybe Brie?

* You smell the sweeter undercurrent stronger now, it’s like warm juicy peaches

* Roasted peach salad tossed with Gorgonzola and olive oil

* How many times have you dreamed about eating that while basking in the warm sunlight

* “I knew you shouldn’t have eaten those leftovers at lunch,” Edward says, but you know it’s performative, thank god he’s still got some sense after smelling her.

* “Mr.Banner, I think (Y/N) ate something bad, is it alright if I help them to the nurses office?”

* “Yes and hurry!” He’s practically shooing you out as Edward pulls you by the arm

* Nooooo, you wanna smell her moreeee

* You have the sense to not wine and keep your mouth covered.

* Edward doesn’t take you to the nurse, you both don’t stop walking until you’re at the parking lot

* “What the hell was that?” He asks, it’s the first time he’s seemed even remotely angry with you

* He seems more confused then angry though, you’re so shocked you actually sit down on the curb.

* And after a moment of hesitance Edward sits beside you, placing his hand over your own

* “She smells good Edward, like really good.”

* Edward laughs

* “Yeah I gathered that” he shakes his head. “I thought you were supposed to be a picky eater”

* “I aaaaamm” you moan, your head is cradled in your left hand. “She’s like one in a million”

* “You’re one in a million” you lift your head to see Edward looking at you with that stupid sh*t eating grin.

* “Really Edward my life is falling apart because I want to eat someone, and you think the appropriate response is to flirt?”

* To be fair, he’s always flirting, it’s basically apart of his personality at this point

* “You’re being melodramatic.” He chuckles and throws an arm over your shoulder. “Worst case scenario you kill her, Carlisle doles out his funeral punishment-don’t ask, and then we have to start over as freshman again somewhere else.”

* You groan, you finally worked your way up to a junior, you were just starting to get used to this crappy town, you don’t wanna start all over again in a new one

* “What’s the best case scenario?”

* Edward thinks hard for a minute.

* “Best case scenario...the music teacher agrees to teach me how to play the violin and I impress you with my magnificent playing.” You smack him on the arm.

* “Not the best case scenario for you!” You know he’s doing it on purpose. He just wants to make you laugh

* It works, you do laugh. How much more absurd could this situation get?

* “Everything’s going to be fine, if Jasper can handle having to smell 300 students he thinks smell good, you can handle 1.” 

* He’s got a point

* “Wait-didn’t she smell good to you?” Wasn’t that like, the whole d*mn point?

* His eyebrows thread together and he shrugs

* “Um, she smelled alright, no better or worse than the others. I’m not sure what you smelled-“

* What you smelled? The rich but refreshing flavor profile is sublime

* The f*cking heathen doesn’t even know what he’s missing

* “But to me she smelled like peaches”

* Well he kinda knows what he’s missing

* “She’s definitely anemic though, there’s a sever lack of iron in her scent” ah that must be that cheesy smell you’re getting

* Well ain’t this ironic. The girl who’s going to steal your best friend is only getting noticed because of you.

* “I don’t know, personally I prefer Henrietta the 3rds blood, but that’s just me” he’s lying, your blood is good and all, but it’s definitely still not on par with a humans blood

* He’s just trying to make you feel better.

* He rubs your shoulder, before patting it and moving to stand up.

* “Now come on, we have to make you eat some human food so you can throw up in front of the nurse and she lets us leave school early”

* You roll your eyes, anything to leave school early huh?

* “Yeah all right, lead the way Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Brooding”

* “Why do you always say that? I don’t brood that much anymore!”

* “You know how some people have resting b*tch face? You have resting brood face.”

* “Says the person who literally radiates despair” you shove him as you both walk towards the vending machine

* You take a deep breath as you watch Edward fumble with the vending machine

* The dork literally sticks a credit card up to the glass and demands the machine give him chips. 

* (Y/N/N) why isn’t this working? Am I supposed to insert my card through this slot?” 

* You laugh. You’re pretty sure he’s not doing this on purpose.

* “You’re supposed to use cash Edward.”

* You watch as he fumbles with his wallet muttering:

* “Do you think it’ll take a twenty dollar bill?”

* You watch in amusement as Edward tries - and fails- to use a twenty dollar bill, and then proceed to use obscure profanities to curse “this vile wretch of human technological advancement” 

* You feel a sigh of relief escape you.

* Yeah, everything is going to be fine. 

Tags:  @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @xxxmuxxx @puritanicalhypocrite

[manonblaqkbeak]

Lock-down Kisses

i wasnt almost gonna do day 11 but i got inspired late last night.

im also so glad that you guys liked my fic yesterday, it has been a bit of a stressful week for me so it makes me happy when you guys like my fics! it really means a lot so thank u! :)

cw: none. just some usual fluff lol

1.4k words

enjoy!

Aelin was so damned bored. She was sure she'd never been this bored in all her life.

She had to tell herself constantly that she was lucky, that she had a roof over her head, food in the fridge and pantry and that she was healthy and walking around, that she still had her job, no matter how rocky it currently was, she was still lucky.

It still didn't change the fact that being in lock-down rutting sucked.

It had been a month since the hard lock-down started and she had been stuck at home—her beautiful, sturdy home that she was damned privileged to have—somewhere in-between the mood of wanting to do something but not having the energy to actually do it.

She had already vacuumed and put the clean dishes away and the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. She had done a fresh load of laundry and put it outside to dry. With nothing left other than mopping (which she hated because no matter how hard she cleaned the tiles beforehand, there was always little pieces of debris that showed up and annoyed her to no end), she couldn't really think of any other house-chores for her to do to keep her preoccupied.

She mowed yesterday, and had racked up the leaves and grass too, plopping them in the garden bin. She watered the garden and refilled the bird-bath, as well.

There were plenty of books to read and listen to, but Aelin just wasn't in the mood for that, which surprised Rowan when she said that yesterday when she complained for the umpteenth time that she was slowly going insane—Aelin was always in the mood to read, but now...maybe it was because the people in those books were having adventures while she was stuck inside.

Right now, she was lying on the couch, staring at her plain as dust ceiling, wondering if it would break protocol if she could pay her neighbour Feyre to paint something enticing.

It probably would be, but she needed something pretty to stare at if she wasn't reading or watching television.

Again, she was grateful, because she had books to read and television to watch, but Aelin always liked to be doing something, being outside and running errands and working.

She was a teacher at Orynth dance and music studio, and due to the lock-down, she was unable to teach dance, but thankfully, she was still able to conduct piano, guitar and violin lessons over Zoom, even if it wasn't really the same and her laptops speaker made the music sound a little dingy, but she didn't have any lessons this week, but would next week, so at least she had something to look forward to.

To pass the time, she had resorted to snooping, watching people mill about in the street from the safety of her enclosed verandah and telling Rowan of the details that she observed when he had a moment of free time.

Which was practically non-existent, thanks to being a teacher and having to deal with stressed out senior students who constantly needed to be reassured that everything was going to be okay.

Not that Aelin could blame them for their stress, she felt so damned sorry for those kids, hyperventilating because they couldn't concentrate at home because they had to share the office with others and how terrified they were of flunking and just about everything else that caused them stress. But Rowan was there, reassuring them that everything would be okay and that as a team, they would tackle everything one day at a time.

Which was why when Aelin went to give Rowan a fresh cup of coffee earlier she was surprised to see that her husband was not in the study and that the room was empty. His laptop and papers were all set up for another day of virtual learning, but her husband could not be found, and she had gone throughout their entire house looking for him and did not find him. And it wasn't like he was hard to spot, he was over six feet tall, tanned and had silver rutting hair, but he was nowhere.

When she had gone back to the kitchen to add sugar and cream to his coffee that was now hers, she noticed that his joggers were gone by the front door, which made her frown because he hadn't mentioned going for a walk—not like he had to tell her everything she did, but she wouldn't have minded joining him—and came to the decision that maybe he just needed to clear his head before another stressful day was upon him.

At least it was Friday, not that that really meant anything when one was a teacher.

Aelin glanced around her living room, she had rearranged it two Saturdays ago with Rowan's help and maybe wondered if she could re-arrange it again, but decided that would just be ridiculous.

Maybe yoga would be a good idea, she didn't mind it and it at least gave her mind something else to focus about other than viruses and death and all other manners of unpleasantness.

So deciding that yoga was the best thing to prevent her from going to the roof and swapping out the tiles, Aelin got dressed, grabbed her things and went outside.

X X X X X X

Two hours later and Aelin was still outside. However, she gave up on yoga an hour ago, finding the energy to listen to a deliciously smutty audio-book. She was watching the clouds, but her mind was imaging that what was happening between the two lovers was her and Rowan (something that happened often when it came to these stories) and was about one paragraph from either shoving her hand down her pants or calling Rowan and asking him when the hell he was coming home so that they could recreate the scene when the front door opened.

Aelin jumped up and went back inside, barely remembering to turn off the audio-book and have her way with Rowan on the floor when she stopped dead at the sight of him.

Because in his hands hand was a leash, that was attached to a dog. A yellow lab, to be exact. The dog looked to be about six months old and was the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

“Rowan, why do you have a dog?”

“She's ours,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “I was supposed to pick her up from the shelter over a month ago, but she got sick, so I was told to wait until she recovered. She's okay now, perfectly healthy, so I finally got the call the other day that she was ready to be picked up. She's caught up on all the necessary vaccines, and is well trained. I was meant to be here earlier, but Fleetfoot here wanted to go swimming in a mud puddle, so I had to take her to a dog spa on the other side of town.”

Aelin nodded, her eyes still glued on the pup. Her eyes were a pretty golden-brown colour and while she was young, Aelin could tell that she was smart.

“You got us a puppy?” Aelin managed to ask.

“Yeah. I know you've been wanting one for a long time, and when I saw her pop up on my Facebook wall, I knew she was the one for us. Do you like her?” he asked and Aelin could have sworn that her burly husband sounded shy. Nervous.

“I love her,” Aelin admitted truthfully and finally went over to their dog, who immediately starting sniffing at Aelin's outstretched hand when she crouched down in front of her. And was soon being supplied with kisses, all over her hand, her face and neck. Aelin laughed and Rowan smiled, knowing that he had made the right decision.

Rowan was about to sit down himself when Aelin tugged at his hand, bringing him down on top of her and kissed him with every bit of love she felt for him.

It didn't take long for Fleetfoot to join them, licking at Rowan while she yipped for their attention. They broke apart and spent the rest of the day getting to know the new addition of their family.

Lock-down sucked, but Aelin was lucky indeed to have her husband in her life. And the pure ball of energy that was Fleetfoot.

[beau-draws-and-cries]

Caged Bird, Songbird - The Owl House fanfic

Summary: Raine plays their violin and Hunter likes to listen to it.

Rating: General

Tags: Raine Whispers, Hunter, Golden Guard

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33734356

 Raine liked to play the violin alone.

 That was a fun experience, they couldn't lie, just get their violin and let all the complex feelings inside their mind become beautiful notes into their instrument and fill the air around them as a pleasant song instead of a mess of thoughts. Music always calmed them down since they were a baby to this moment, and it was an easy escape when they needed it.

 It was something they would do since their school days: get the violin, hide in the forest and play until their feelings were in place again. This time they were near the Emperor’s castle, later they would have a little reunion about plans for the day of Unity, and Raine was putting feelings about it out of their chest. They felt awful about the stuff they had to do to get so close to the Emperor. They didn't like that, but it was necessary. They were trying to convince themselves that the actions were      needed     so they could stop whatever the Emperor had planned for the Boiling Isles.

 The notes had a sour touch to it, mixed into a more hopeful, calm melody.

 They strummed the strings, touching the lower part of them with their bow, with maybe more strength than they were supposed to, but they were full of bad feelings that needed to go out somehow, or  else they would accumulate in their chest until they exploded, and a meltdown was everything Raine would like to avoid when trying to convince the Emperor that they were the most wise choice for Coven Head.

 They didn't notice the teen approaching slowly, with their eyes closed, feeling the notes going out and the song, until they finally stopped,opening their eyes to see the Golden Guard sitting nearby and looking at him, with their mask on.

 "G-golden Guard! I-i-i didn't see you there!" Raine became a blushing mess, stumbling on their own words and trying to keep what was left from their dignity in front of nothing less than the Emperor’s Coven head, and Belos favorite soldier.

 "There's no need to stop playing, I was enjoying it." Their tone and affirmation were the only giveaway that they were liking the song, because the face was hidden behind the owl-like mask, as ever. Raine didn't know why, but hearing such a young voice sound so tired would give them chills. Something was deeply wrong about that kid. "Please, keep playing."

 "I-I.... I-I-I am not as good with an audience." Raine muttered, putting the violin down "But I can try."

 Hunter only nodded, seeing Raine play the first notes, a little rushed and jumbled, but as the song progressed, they forgot that the Golden Guard was watching, and the song started to have a more bittersweet tone to it. They heard that the Golden Guard had to keep an eye for Edalyn Clawthorne, and Raine felt a bitter taste in their mouth to think that being a Coven Head meant never being able to meet Eda as a lover again.

 They remembered their last fight, both drunk in their house.

     "If you don't want to be with me, just say it! And leave me alone!"    Raine had yelled, and Edalyn's face was surprised, afraid. Afraid that they would leave her at that moment. At any moment. They abandoned her, after all. The song acquired somber notes, lingering on the feeling of sadness. They had to suppress their tears as they let out their feelings. Guilt, sorrow, longing.

 They tried to go to other feelings, but it was impossible, their mind always circling and then coming back to Eda.

  When they stopped and opened their eyes, the Golden Guard had taken off their mask, staring at Raine with an empty expression. The bags under his eyes would make Raine feel an urge to hug them, to scold them to sleep eight hours a day, to tell them to eat healthy. Why such a young kid was a coven head and looked so tired---

 The scars and nick was what more startled them, a kid shouldn’t be that hurt. Those were tears streams? Raine didn’t ask, looking down, face burning from the thought of playing a song about their ex in front of the Golden guard.

 (Not that there were any words to it, and the Golden Guard could guess the subject, but still made Raine anxious.)

 "I-I-I am sorry, it's not my best work, Golden Guard. I.... I will make it sound better if I just play something I already know."

 "You can just call me Hunter." Hunter said, a bit emotionless. "I hope to see you playing more often, Raine.”

 Raine nodded, seeing him shift the position they were sitting, from a rigid stance to a more teen-like way, sitting on one of his legs.

 “Sure, sir. I mean, Hunter. Just as a curiosity… How old are you again?”

 “I am sixteen.” He said, a bit more defensive now. Raine felt how tense he was.

 “Oh, that’s an important age! Have you gotten your own Palisman yet?” Raine smiled, trying to just treat him as a teen, and not, Golden Guard, Belos right hand.

 Something about the scars, the tired expression, the lack of emotion… Made them shiver. When they were sixteen their biggest scar was from an accidental cut and their biggest problem was asking out Eda to go with Grom together. Not leading an entire coven. Definitely not going on dangerous missions for a tyrannical emperor.

 “No, not yet. I got my staff from Emperor Belos, I don’t use this kind of wild magic.”

 “Oh… That’s fair, I imagine Belos doesn’t like wild magic.” Raine said, looking at Hunter. When he didn’t answer, they felt like they touched a delicate subject. “Want to hear another song?” They tried to distract the teen, standing closer to him.

 “That would be lovely, Whispers.” He said, looking at the mask on his lap.

 Raine started to play, mindlessly strumming the strings, just feeling the mood. Hunter seemed to be enjoying it, and some tears streamed down again, but Raine didn’t comment on them, yet. They didn’t feel like Hunter would actually answer if they asked why he was crying. When they finished, Hunter had put the mask on a while ago, but Raine could tell he was holding up sobs, by the way his breath was uneven and the chest moving in spasms sometimes.

 “Music does that to you. Especially a Bard’s song, even if it isn’t my intention to use magic while I play.” Raine reassured him “Brings feelings you didn’t know you had. Bring out smiles and tears. Sometimes all I do is play music and my feelings take over me.”

 “Feelings are a weakness.” Hunter affirmed, a voice cracking in a way that made Raine be sure he still was crying.

 “Everyone has feelings. I know they can be hard to deal with, but it’s healthy to feel them, and sometimes.... Just cry to a song you liked.”

 Raine started to play again, now they remembered about  Raine’s Rhapsody and they were letting the song soothe them, using the bard’s magic to make the objects float around “And talk about it with someone you trust. Like your parents, or a friend, or nice adult. No one can keep all of their feelings to themself and feel good.”

 “... Wouldn’t this be awful? I mean, why would someone want to hear another person’s feelings?”

 “Sometimes, they’re friends. And friends do that for each other.” Raine stopped playing the song, Hunter’s words had set off many red alert lights on their brain. “Did you never… Tell your feelings to someone?” They asked, worried.

 “Well, I ramble about them alone on my bedroom and on my notebook--”

 “No, a real person.” Raine interrupted, with a worried look “With a real person that can hug you when you start to cry and that can pat your back, and bring you some water when you’re feeling like shit.” Raine struggled to say the last word, but they thought that would be more relatable to the teen. Teenagers liked cuss words, right?

 “That would be hard, I am always feeling like shit.” Hunter laughed, but Raine didn’t, making him go silent.

 “Do you… Need to talk about something?” Raine asked carefully, trying to sound the least threatening possible. They tried to put care into their voice, as well as an welcoming tone. Having the right tone on their voice was treated like getting the right tone on a song: One wrong tone and you could end up ruining your whole performance.

 “I… It’s just that… You know, all of-- All of this--” Hunter was trying to say something, but stopped himself “No, I      DON’T     need to.” Hunter’s body language changed from leaning closer to Raine to tense and alert in a matter of seconds, and he stood up quickly “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mx. Whispers. But I got to go. I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

 Raine nodded, noticing they crossed a boundary there, but they were okay about it. They noticed Hunter’s sudden shift of body language, and that would only make sense. Raine was a teacher, and it wouldn’t be the first time they offered comfort to an abused kid. Reaching for them on days they were beaten up, asking how they were feeling, if they needed a hug or just to chat. Show that things could get better. Get one of their hidden candy and give it to them as a promise that someone cared for them. It wasn’t the first time that an abused kid told them they didn’t need help and drifted away. They knew some parents would double the abuse on the kids when they discovered they had been snitched to another adult.

  It would only make sense for Hunter to dodge any questions and any comfort. It didn’t make it less okay, though. Raine made a mental note to offer comfort in other ways.

 Hunter stopped a bit and turned to Raine. He took off the mask, to show a face with many streams of tears that were already drying out, and an even more exhausted expression.

 “It was nice to talk to you. I hope to hear your violin again.”

 “No problem, Hunter. And I mean, you can reach out if you just need to spend time with someone. I can just pretend you aren’t there and play.”

 “That… That would be nice, actually.” Hunter muttered, putting the mask on again “Goodbye, Raine.”

 He slowly walked away, tired. Raine sighed and got their violin again.

 Maybe it was time to plan how to help that poor kid.

[graceslavenderhaze]

fight night  (jatp crew x reader)

readers home life hasn’t been the best and they’ve been lying to their friends about it. one night it all builds up and the reader shows up to julies, distraught. ( for this the boys are alive bc it just worked out best but other than that no changes.)

this has been sitting in my drafts so i thought i’d post it

trigger warning: family fights, anxiety, depression, past talk of eating disorders.

For a long time you use to just keep everything buried down. That was your fatal flaw. It wasn’t a trust issue, you just always had this feeling that if no one knew then everything would be fine. But your family had lately been falling apart, your parents always seemed disappointed in you, you were fighting with your siblings more and it felt it a ballon that kept on expanding. you didn’t know when everything was going to explode it just kept getting worse.

Today was the exploding point. It seemed like no matter what you did, it just wasn’t good enough. You were the black sheep in your family, they made you out to be it. They complained about how you dressed, what your room looked like, the music you played, the people you hung out with, and for what? You didn’t do anything that was textbook problem child material. 

You tried your hardest in school, you never asked for much, you cleaned almost everyone’s mess at home, and after a while that became your routine. Never be seen, never be heard and never get any credit for everything you do. Meanwhile your siblings, little miss perfect and the star academic got everything you wanted. Your parents attention, their approval, and their constant reassurance. 

By the time you were in high school, you were emotionally independent. A stranger to your own family pretty much. You went to an art school along with your siblings. Even as the oldest, you quickly fell into their shadows. Your sister a musical protégé on the violin, your parents paid for the best lessons, and without a doubt she’ll probably attend some ivy league. Your brother was in the advanced academics program, with yale and harvard already offering him scholarships in his sophomore year. Then there was you. You were in the art program, and while your teacher swears that all the top art schools have you on their radar. You still felt insignificant.

You worked a weekend job at the local coffee shop, latte love , it wasn’t everything but it helped pay for art supplies for you to build your portfolio. Their you met Julie Molina and Flynn Davis. Two girls who were your age, they attended the music program at your art school. You recognized them, Julie had been like the sun at the school. In the hallways always smiling and then her mom died, the sun went away hidden behind clouds. While Flynn was unapologetically herself and didn’t backdown from telling people how things were, she was fearless. They were also probably the first two people who knew your siblings and were able to separate you from them. 

Then later on in the year the three of you met Luke, Alex and Reggie. Latte Love was hosting its monthly open mic night. It was almost a year after Julie’s mom died, so in an attempt to coax her back into music, Flynn brought her around. You offered free hot chocolate on the house as a bribe if she wanted to come. After an hour of mainly middle schoolers trying to face stage fright, soccer parents who desperately tried to hold onto their high school garage band phase and any other mediocre act who gave it their all in effort. Sunset Curve preformed. 

That night honestly sent all six of your lives’ into a full spiral but in the best way. A month after you had met sunset curve, they formed a band with Julie and became, Julie and the Phantoms. Flynn becoming the band manager and you being the artist for ticket designs, posters and anything else. It helped distract you from everything going on in your life and with your friends you didn’t feel left out or the black sheep. You were you and they loved you for all of it. 

But you could only be happy for so long. Your family always managed to make you feel horrible about yourself, this week had felt like the worst its ever been. Your sister being recruited for a summer symphony in Australia, your brother would be off at a stem camp and your summer plans were just to work, make art and hang with your friends. Your family wasted no time in telling you that you were wasting your time, or that it was just some silly childish thing. They didn’t understand how big Julie and the Phantoms were becoming. The latest gig being opening for panic at the disco at the Orpheum. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, which is how you ended up walking to Julie’s house right in the beginning of a thunderstorm. When you finally made it to Julie’s front stoop you were drenched head to toe. Julie being the one to pull you in the front door. In her oversized smiley face sweatshirt and baggy sweats. The movie night dress code.

“Did you walk here?” She exclaims looking at the outdoor storm and turning back to her best friend. Your eyes red from crying and cheeks raw from wiping your tears rapidly. She’d been expecting you for weekly movie night, especially since her dad and brother had been away for a baseball game for the weekend. Just not in this state.

“More like swam.” You replied with a dry laugh. Trying to desperately hold yourself together. Knowing your friends were all in the living room, you didn’t want to burden them with your breakdown. 

“Hey was that the chinese food! Y/n? Whats wrong bean?” Flynn stated her mood changing halfway through the sentence noticing the state of their best friend. Who looked like she’d just had the world’s worst day. You smiled fondly at the nice name she’d given you, which was a coffee pun. 

“Family shit. Like always.” You said looking down at the floor and the puddle that you were slowly dripping onto the Molina residence’s welcome mat. Both girls smiled sympathetically, they had their fair share of stories of how bad things could get at the L/n household. 

“Come on! It’s movie night, you’re getting into cozy clothes and having junk food with your friends.” Julie said taking your hand and leading you upstairs to her room. Julie handed you spare clothes due to you being completely soaked. Then a towel to dry yourself off.

“Here, once you’re ready to come downstairs, we can put your stuff into the dryer.” Julie said smiling at her friend before leaving to give her privacy. Taking the towel she gave you and trying to dry your hair. Then changing into the cozy clothes she gave you. Your phone blowing up from texts from your family. Your parents wanting to know where you were. Not caring how hurt you were. Your siblings saying half assed apologies they didn’t mean. They’d done this before and they’d do it again. 

Ignoring the messages, you walked back downstairs. The comforting smell of chinese food wafting at you. Julie, Alex and Flynn stood at the table. Meanwhile Luke and Reggie were were at the local 7/11 getting slushies. 

“Did anyone order a hot mess?” You said jokingly getting their attention. Alex standing up and instantly hugging you as if he’d never see you again. Hugging him back. Alex’s hugs always felt as if it was a cloud. 

The Molina residence house phone then rang, the caller id labeling your house. “We can just let it go to message.” Julie said turning back from the phone to you. You shook your head, “I’m so over this bullshit.” Walking over to the phone you picked it up. 

“Hello ever so loving parental unit.” You said with sarcasm dripping off every word. “Pop off!” Flynn said as she bit into a dumpling. You bit back a smile. “Where are you? You can’t run out because you’re upset.” You heard your mom say. You rolled your eye. 

“Where i am every friday night. I told you in advance i had plans so when you take your attention span off miss perfect and genius boy remember you have a third fucking child. Goodnight!” You said promptly and then hung up placing the phone back on back on its home base. “Beyoncé would approve.” Flynn said clapping for dramatic effect.

“How much trouble are you going to be in for that?” Alex said passing your usual that Julie knew to order for you, you shrugged. “Bold of you to assume they’ll remember to ground me.” 

“Wow what a rag tag group of mommy and daddy issues we are.” Reggie announced as he placed the tray of slushies down on the counter. “Excuse you!” Julie exclaimed as she took a slip of her blueberry slushie. “She’s dead, that’s an issue.” Flynn said as she grabbed her green apple one. You choked on your food for a second, “Out of pocket!” 

“She’s right babe.” Luke said hugging her from behind. “You have mommy issues too.” Julie said turning around slightly. “Only the hottest people have both mommy and daddy issues!” Alex exclaimed holding a hand of for you and Reggie to high five. 

“My back hurts from having a healthy parental relationship and carrying that standard.” Flynn said cracking open her fortune cookie. You laughed looking around at your dysfunctional friend group. 

“We are all going to hell for these jokes alone.” You said taking a sip of your slushie. Reggie scoffed, “We’re just warming up.” 

[noelliza]

The Pursuit of Two Left Feet Ch 1 - Anderperry

Hello! I started a cute anderperry fic that includes dancing and sneaking out to an underground swing dance club. Thank you @poetrusicperry for the idea! This is the first part out of two. You can also read this on ao3 here. Enjoy! :)

Part 2

~

“Charlie, no.”

“Charlie, yes!”

Neil rolls his eyes in exasperation, convinced that his best friend has finally lost his mind. “How the hell do you think we could get away with this? It’s one thing to sneak out to the cave, but another to sneak out into town!”

“Neil, you doubt my abilities, it’ll be fine! Meeks is a genius, and he can help me work the whole thing out,” Charlie says, trying to appease him.

“So you don’t even have a plan?” Neil asks incredulously.

Charlie leans over conspiratorially. “Yet,” he says with a wink.

“Well let me know what you come up with, it’ll be a good laugh.”

“You bet. Later, party pooper.”

Neil huffs and shuts the door, walking over to his closet to grab his night clothes.

“So uh… what was Charlie on about this time?” Todd asks from his bed, closing the book he was reading.

“Something totally ridiculous,” Neil says.

Neil realizes from Todd’s silence that his paranoia is creeping in, assuming that Neil’s vague answer is him not wanting to fill Todd in on their conversation. Hastily, he turns to look at Todd and gives him a reassuring smile.

“He wants us all to sneak out and go dancing at a club in town. But there’s no way we could pull that off,” he explains.

He watches as Todd’s body relaxes at his words, the tension leaving his features to form a shy smile. “I don't know… Charlie somehow always finds a way,” he says, holding Neil’s gaze for a moment before returning to his book.

Neil laughs, beginning to unbutton his shirt. “So far he has, but one day he’s bound to get caught. I’m all for mischief, but I think this is pushing it.”

“Since when does Charlie not push anything?”

“You always make a great point,” Neil says fondly, rushing over to ruffle Todd’s hair before he can stop him.

Neil finishes changing and leaps onto his bed, landing on his back with a relieved sigh, the weight of the day leaving his body. Today Neil was moving nonstop with soccer practice, math club, and chemistry club that he hasn’t had a moment to breathe in the last 13 hours.

Neil turns his head towards Todd to glance at the cover of his book. He instantly recognizes it as Fahrenheit 451, which is a book he’s been wanting to read but never dared to buy in fear of his father finding it. He’s afraid of Neil ever discovering new ideas, diverting from the cut path he’s had him set on since birth. His father would be disappointed to know that Neil has been forming his own beliefs and sentiments for a long time now. He refuses to live a meaningless life, void of passion and love. But, he doesn’t want to create suspicion, so he doesn’t discuss anything that his father could potentially disapprove of.

“So, are you gonna go?” Todd asks.

“As if I have a choice. If I thought for even a second Charlie would let me get out of it, I’d be the dumbest person on the planet.”

Todd lets out a beautiful, warm laugh, his eyes wrinkling into a bright smile. It’s rare Neil gets to see it, and he’s grateful every single time he does.

“Are you?”

Todd falters, his smile falling slightly. Neil’s heart hurts at the sight. “Well... am I… invited?”

“Todd, of course you are,” Neil says gently, knowing that sometimes Todd needs reassurance.

“Then, uh, yeah I’m coming,” Todd says, his voice shaking slightly.

He knows what a big deal it is that Todd is willing to break the rules to be included, and he’s glad that he’s starting to feel like he truly belongs.

Neil has always loved dancing—almost as much as acting. Letting your body move to the beat of the music, allowing the sound to fill you and set your mind free, all the thoughts and obligations draining out of you. He feels light, like no worries or obligations ever existed in the first place. So of course at the sound of Charlie’s idea, his heart sings at the opportunity to go, but he knows if he got caught that would be his father’s last straw. He can’t risk his father pulling him out to send him to military school, away from the few things, or people, who are vital parts of his life.

He loves his poets more than anything, talking to them is his favorite part of any day. Charlie is his best friend, without his crude jokes and lawless energy, school would be utterly dull. Mr. Keating is the reason Neil feels inspired, like he has a chance at living a fulfilling life. The hope that had once been squashed down into nothing by his father was taking root once again, the weed never having been truly destroyed. However, Neil doesn’t know how he’s going to do it—betray his father and live the life he desires—but the thought that he will one day is what keeps him going.

And Todd. Todd is everything. He’s the air he breathes, the light shining through the murky tunnel, and the monologue to his play in an empty crowd. If he never got to see Todd’s furrowed brows while deep in thought, or his bright, infectious smile again, Neil’s world would crumble on top of him, leaving him to suffocate, entrapped in everlasting misery.

Neil envisions stepping onto a crowded dance floor with Todd’s hand in his, his heart swelling with joy. He hears Etta James’ “At Last” filling the room, the sound of the violin strumming the chords of his heart as they sway together. This picture makes Neil yearn for the opportunity to go dancing with the poets, but he knows it's only a mere fantasy, and nothing more.

At the mention of this, however, Charlie wasn’t willing to accept that; he doesn’t understand that it’s just not doable, it’s out of reach. The town is too far, they would never make it back to the school before a teacher discovered their absences. Once he said it, Charlie wouldn’t let it go, and Neil had to grudgingly accept that it had officially been put in motion.

“Good. Let’s just hope Charlie doesn’t fuck it up,” Neil says, settling into bed.

Todd laughs and moves to set his book aside but Neil stops him. “No it’s okay, I’m so tired I could fall asleep through Charlie’s snores right now. Keep reading.” Neil finishes with a mumble, turning toward the wall.

“…Y-you sure?” He asks hesitantly.

“Of course, don’t be silly. Good night Todd,” Neil murmurs, already beginning to doze off.

“Good night, Neil,” Todd says softly, his voice. A few seconds go by and Neil can sense the light of the room behind his eyelids, and he smiles to himself. It’s good to see Todd doing more things for himself, not sacrificing every bit of himself for the sake of others. It makes Neil’s heart full, knowing Todd is finally coming into himself, growing to be the person Neil always saw inside him that was crying to be let out into the world.

Neil quickly falls asleep, the image of swinging Todd around the dance floor, his untamable laughter echoing through the room filling his thoughts.

***

Neil’s studying Chemistry in his room when Charlie barges in, a dangerous grin spread across his face. Neil shudders, knowing that expression all too well.

Charlie settles himself on Neil’s bed, leaning his head back on his hands with one leg crossed over the other. “We’ve got ourselves a full-proof plan.”

Neil scoffs, disbelieving. “Yeah right. It hasn’t even been a full day.”

“Well, it just shows you we’re that good,” Charlie says smugly.

“Or, you’re too sloppy, missing some of the potential obstacles,” Neil says shortly, looking back down at his book.

“Not in this case! All of those have been strategically avoided. We’re all set to go this weekend!” He affirms.

“So, aren’t you going to tell me all about your ingenious plan?”

Charlie laughs. “No, because you’ll obsess over it trying to find a mistake. And there’s no need to, because it’ll work out.”

“Like the time you broke into Nolan’s office and left rotten eggs only for him to have seen you walk right out of the door?” Neil says, raising an incredulous eyebrow.

“That was one time!” Charlie objects. “And I was a complete amateur back then. Right now, you’re speaking to an expert of mischief.”

“Dear Lord, help us all,” Neil groans.

“Hey, Jesus didn’t assist with this plan, so he doesn’t need to be involved.”

Neil just sighs, not deigning to respond.

“So, have you planned your dance with Todd? How are you going to ask him? ‘Todd Anderson, the love of my life, will you do me the honor of dancing the night away with me?’” Charlie teases with a crooked smile.

Neil throws a pencil at him, his cheeks flushing. “Shut up, I wouldn’t ask him like that.”

“Well, you have four more days to think about it.”

“I doubt he’ll even want to,” Neil sighs.

Charlie scoffs, arching his brow. “Yeah, that's as likely as Nolan and Keating becoming lovers.”

“Thank you for that horrible image,” Neil says with a grimace, earning a laugh from Charlie.

“You’re welcome.”

Neil shakes his head, wanting to get straight to the important details. “So who’s coming along?”

“Meeks and Pitts, Todd obviously. As soon as I told Knox he could bring Chris, he was in.”

“And Cameron?” Neil asks resignedly, already knowing what his answer will be.

“As in Richard Cameron? Dick up my ass? And not the good kind,” Charlie snorts.

“Uh, yes, him. The only Cameron we know, did you ask him?” He pushes, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

Charlie huffs a laugh. “Ask him if he was dropped at birth? No, but I’ve been pretty close.”

“You know what I meant,” Neil says, looking at him firmly.

Charlie avoids his gaze, guilt flashing across his face for a moment. “No, I haven’t…”

“Charlie—”

“Nuwanda!”

Neil takes a deep breath to calm himself. “Nuwanda,” he says pointedly, to which Charlie gives an approving nod. “Come on, you gotta invite him or I will. You know I don’t like excluding anyone. It’s not right.”

“I know, I know, you’re a better person than the rest of us. I’ll mention it, letting him know that the chances we’ll get caught are very, very high—” Charlie cuts off at Neil’s reproving look. “Fine,” Charlie says with a tired, dramatic sigh. “But if he finks, it’s on you!”

“Alright that’s fine, but I really doubt he will. He has no reason to,” Neil says.

“You always give people the benefit of the doubt,” Charlie says, and Neil shrugs helplessly, unable to deny it. “But, I happen to like that about you,” Charlie finishes, grinning.

Neil rolls his eyes playfully. “Good to know, but if you want me to tell you I like how rash and rebellious you are, I’m not planning to.”

Charlie laughs as the door swings open, revealing Todd who briefly glances at the pair before walking over his desk to drop off his bag. Charlie walks over to him, placing his hands on his shoulders and shaking him lightly.

“Toddie! Ready for Friday?” Charlie asks, his excitement spilling out of him.

Todd chuckles, craning his neck to look back at Charlie. “I— yeah I am.”

Charlie whoops, giving Todd’s shoulders a final pat before bouncing back towards Neil, getting way too far into his personal space. “It’ll be fun!”

“When is anything you’re involved in not fun?” Neil asks dryly.

“That’s the spirit!” He shouts triumphantly before bounding out of the room.

“Make sure you talk to Cameron!” Neil shouts after him despite knowing Charlie most likely won’t hear him. With the amount of energy radiating off him, he’s probably halfway down the hall by now. Todd laughs softly and heads over to his bed, opening up a book as he leans his back against the wall.

Neil looks back down at his book, trying with every cell in his brain to comprehend the material. It’s been much more difficult lately to study as the pressure of finals looms over him and the voice of his father invading his mind, telling him he’s not working hard enough. He’s been trying to overcompensate by spending more of his time focusing on his studies, but so far Neil has felt more exhausted than ever, almost falling asleep on his textbook a few times this past week. Charlie caught him after the third time, insisting that it was enough and Neil needed a break. But Charlie didn’t understand what it was like having a father with outrageous expectations. Neil has to put every bit of his time and energy into his studies in order to meet the bare minimum, or else his father will accuse him of slacking off.

Neil turns the page, barely remembering any of the words he just read. He can feel Todd’s stare from the bed, and he knows Todd is most likely considering saying something. He pretends not to notice, not wanting to open this can of worms with him. With just a few words, Todd can convince him of anything, and if he urges him to take a break, Neil knows he won’t be able to refuse--he’ll fold like a deck of cards. But he can’t afford that right now, so he doesn’t budge.

After a few moments, Todd turns away and grabs his book from the nightstand to continue reading. Neil is conflicted, part of him glad Todd didn’t press the issue while the other aches for him to say something, anything to pull him out of this state of mind.

They stay like that for a while—Neil loses track of the time—and then, Todd breaks the silence.

“So, uh, I think Meeks is having a study group for Latin tonight. Are you coming?” He asks, closing the book he was reading.

“I don’t know… I think I’m gonna skip out on it,” Neil says, ruefully.

Todd pauses. “Why?”

“I gotta do some history,” he lies, keeping his head down to avoid Todd’s eyes.

“B-but we just had a test yesterday, we haven’t learned anything new. And you always go to the study groups.”

“Well, I’m just trying to get ahead.”

Todd makes a noise of disappointment that pains him. “But—”

“Todd,” Neil cuts in, harsher than he intended, “just, drop it. Please.”

Todd doesn't respond, returning to his book silently. Neil feels awful talking to him like that, so dismissive. He doesn’t know why he’s doing it to himself, but he feels out of control. It’s like the words are coming out for him, the flood bypassing the barriers he’s placed in his mind.

After a while, Todd gets up to go meet up with the other Poets, grabbing his books and putting them in his bag. He hears Todd hesitate at the door before leaving, presumably deciding not to bother Neil again.

The second the door shuts, a wave of guild floods over Neil, settling in his chest. He rests his head in his hands, trying to take deep breaths.

It’s fine. He’s too busy for study groups right now, it’s not a big deal. There will always be more. He’s not avoiding his friends because he thinks he doesn’t deserve them. Neil just needs to focus on his own studies right now, to make his father proud. After a few seconds, he lifts his head and gets back to work, ignoring the pounding headache and the heaviness of his eyelids…

“Neil?”

Neil jolts awake, lifting his head to look around and realizing he’s still at his desk, his drool soaking into the corner of his notebook page. He sees Todd standing above him, his expression filled with concern. His brows are furrowed in that way he does when he’s trying to solve something, and he has the impulse to smooth it out with his thumb, just the gentlest touch. But the familiar, demanding voice in his head prevents him from doing that.

“Hey! How’d it go?” Neil asks, false brightness in his tone.

Todd’s face doesn’t change, still searching his features as if the answer is hidden in them. “Uh, good,” he says, breaking his gaze away and walking towards his closet. “I’m still struggling, but Meeks helped me understand it a bit better at least.”

“Oh good, I’m glad!” Neil says, forcing a cheery smile.

Neil doesn’t move from his desk as Todd shuffles around the room, getting changed for bed. As Todd is pulling his shirt off, Neil blinks back to reality, looking away to hastily pack up his things. He feels Todd’s eyes again, and Neil has to fight against the pull to meet his gaze. He puts his books on the shelf, the silence in the room stretching longer with every taken breath.

“Charlie accused me of drugging you and locking you in our room,” Todd says after a few minutes, breaking the tension filling the room.

“It’s probably because he’s more likely to do that to someone,” Neil replies, laughing faintly at the thought.

“I’m sure he’s already done it to Cameron.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Neil says with a sigh.

The silence creeps back in, louder than he’s ever heard it.

“There’s gonna be another one tomorrow night,” Todd says, his voice level with the smallest hint of hope peeking through.

“I don’t think I can go to any this week. Maybe next week,” Neil says weakly, quickly making for the bathroom to escape the awkwardness.

He hates doing this. He knows it hurts Todd and the other poets, as well as himself. But if he lets himself get distracted then he won’t make it through finals. For once, Neil just wants to make his father proud.

When he returns, the lights are out, Todd’s breathing slow and even.

***

That next night when Todd is about to leave for study group, Neil busies himself in his Latin textbook, hoping he won’t hassle him about coming along. If he does, it’ll be even harder to refuse him. He hears Todd walk toward the door when suddenly, Neil’s book is stripped away from him, slammed shut and thrown onto his bed. He looks up and Todd is standing above him, looking nervous but resolute, a fierceness in his eyes. Neil meets his gaze, bewildered.

“Todd, what—”

“We’re going for a walk.”

“But I have—”

“It’s a nice night.”

“Todd.”

“Neil,” Todd says firmly, his tone grabbing Neil’s attention. Neil stares, unable to break away from the set look on Todd’s face. One look into those warm, soft eyes is enough to make Neil forget why he insisted on studying in the first place.

“I kind of like when you tell me what to do. Tell me something else,” he says, his mouth curling upward.

Todd flushes, turning away. “N-not right now. Just put your jacket on.”

“You got it,” Neil winks, grabbing his coat and following Todd out the door.

Together, they walk down the hallway and Todd leads him outside, the rush of crisp, winter air refreshing on his skin. Neil didn’t realize how suffocating his room was until now, his lungs filled by the outdoors. He feels like his mind is being pulled out of the mud, regaining his senses, his rational thoughts. Why was he cooping himself in his room?

“Thank you, I needed this,” Neil beams, feeling grateful Todd managed to drag him out here. Sometimes, Neil wonders how he managed to survive this long without Todd in his life—before this school year, just a few short months ago.

Todd nods, keeping his head towards the ground, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets. He’s so adorable, Neil can’t handle it. He wishes he had the words, or the drawing skills to capture this sight forever, something he could hold onto and never let go.

“So… are we going anywhere in particular?” Neil asks, unable to help himself. His silences with Todd are always comfortable, but his curiosity is buzzing, eager to know their designation.

“Maybe,” Todd says coyly.

“Come on, Todd, you’re a poet! I know you can be more descriptive than that,” he teases.

“Y-yeah I know I can. I’m… I’m choosing not to.”

Neil’s smile gradually grows wide. “Alright, I can accept that answer. As long as you’re sure.”

“I am,” he says.

Neil laughs softly in response, his heart aching. He looks around, taking in the dark figures of the trees, listening to the whispers of night as it awakens, the faint hum of life, and feeling the gentle movement of wind caressing his skin. It feels like a dance of itself, moving to the beat of its own sound, the music of the forest.

“You know, everytime we sneak out to the cave, none of us ever actually take time to really absorb our surroundings.”

“Yeah, I think because of the chances we’ll get caught if we’re out here,” Todd says, briefly glancing upward to the sky.

Neil chuckles, “True, but we’ve been really missing out.”

“Yeah.”

They continue their trek, the sounds of their footsteps on the ground echoing around them.

“You know, I never used to like the dark, but something about the woods at this hour is so peaceful,” Neil muses, looking up at the moon shining through the trees. Todd hums in response.

“I… I’ve always liked the dark,” Todd adds after a few beats.

Neil turns to him, but can’t catch his eye as Todd is looking resolutely ahead. “Have you?” He says, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

Todd nods, “I—it was comforting…” he says reluctantly, as if more words are bubbling inside him, but he’s scared to let them out.

“I was always afraid of it as a kid. When I was in trouble, my father would put me in the coat closet to have me think about what I had done. I felt like it was eventually going to swallow me whole,“ Neil shares softly, hoping it’ll encourage Todd to speak about it.

Todd lets out a harsh breath, as he already knows how horrible Neil’s father is. Neil glances at Todd again, unable to help it, and nudges him lightly. “Why do you find it comforting?” He asks gently.

Todd keeps his eyes glued to his feet, presumably focusing on his footsteps as he considers what to say. Over the last few months, Neil has begun to catch onto Todd’s small mannerisms. When he’s anxious over an upcoming event, he’ll pick at the hems of his clothes. When he doesn’t want to say yes to something, his eyes widen in the slightest bit and he’ll look sideways, as if he’ll find a proper excuse. The one Neil finds most endearing is when he’s given a compliment, Todd bites the inside of his lip and glances downward.

“I was afraid of it too, actually,” he starts, his breath a bit shaky, “I thought there were monsters in the dark. At least, that's what some of the others at school used to say. But then one night, there was a power outage at my house. It—it happened right after my parents lectured me for not making the baseball team,” Todd pauses, taking a deep breath. Neil waits patiently, holding onto his every word dearly.

“I… I was in my room, alone, in the dark… and I realized it… it made me feel less lonely. I couldn't see the emptiness of the room. I could only hear my breath and my heartbeat. It was… calming,” he finishes in a whisper, only heard by Neil and the hush of the delicate wind.

Neil feels the breath in his lungs being snatched away, and he swallows back a sob threatening to escape him, not wanting to make Todd feel guilty for sharing about his past. Everytime Neil hears something new about Todd’s horrible childhood, his heart tears further apart. He wishes he could strip him of that pain and take it for himself, easing him of that burden.

“I can understand that,” Neil says, making an effort to keep his voice even. “Just… I hope you know you’re not alone anymore, right?”

“Y-yeah I know,” Todd says.

“Good,” Neil breathes, hoping Todd meant it.

They approach a clearing, and it’s one Neil has never seen before. It’s wide, the surrounding trees acting as a safe cocoon. The closer they get, the more he sees the flickering lights blinking through the air, dotting the open space. Fireflies.

“Here we are,” Todd says, a shy smile gracing his face.

Neil walks towards the center, spinning as he gazes around. “How did you find this place?” Neil says, feeling dizzy yet unbound, like he could fly straight to the moon without wings.

“I-I go on walks sometimes… when I need to think. One night, I saw the fireflies… and they led me here.”

“Amazing,” he says, his voice soft as a whisper, watching a firefly buzzing past him in awe. He’s never seen one so up close before, but they’re mesmerizing. Neil doesn’t want to look away.

“Y-yeah, it is.”

Neil wanders around the space, letting his body move on its own accord as his eyes follow the various glowing bodies traveling in every direction. He hums absently, the chorus of a song stuck in his head. He feels Todd’s eyes on him as he walks, and his face burns.

“‘The Twelfth of Never’?” Todd asks.

Neil stops and looks at him, the sight of Todd lit up by the scattering bugs making him weak at the knees. “Yeah, you know it?”

Todd nods. “Mhm, it… it was my favorite song a few summers back. I snuck the vinyl from Jeffey’s room and played it w-when no one was around.”

Neil takes a step towards him. “You ask how much I need you, must I explain?” he sings.

Todd’s eyes widen, his face vulnerable and open. Neil smiles warmly. “I know you’re more of a poet, Whitman, but... join me?” He asks, hopeful.

Todd blinks, looking unsure. After Neil quirks an amused smile, he gives in with a harmless eye roll. “I need you, oh my darling,” he mumbles, looking away as Neil approaches him.

“…like roses need rain.”

Once Neil is standing in front of him, he holds out his hand. “May I?”

Todd looks back at him and pauses as he notices his outstretched hand. Slowly, he reaches out his hand and places it gently in Neil’s palm, allowing him to grasp it. He leads them to the center, placing his other hand on Todd’s waist. They stare at each other for a moment before Neil starts to move his feet. He keeps the pace slow in order to give Todd time used to it, and gradually, they make circles around the clearing.

“W-where did you learn to dance?” Todd asks breathlessly, his eyes shining.

“My father made me do cotillion when I was nine. I hated everything about it except for this,” he says, his eyes focused on Todd’s expression.

“You’re really good,” Todd says with a faint laugh, fumbling to keep up. Neil tightens his grip on Todd’s waist the slightest bit, keeping him in place as they glide.

“You ask how long I’ll love you, I’ll tell you true…” Neil spins him around, eliciting a startled laugh out of Todd that makes his heart swoon.

“Until the twelfth of never, I'll still be loving you,” Todd sings back through his giggles.

“Hold me close.” Neil dips Todd suddenly, leaning over to catch a close look at his eyes.

“Never let me go,” Todd adds, looking at Neil as if to say he means it literally.

“Oh, I’d never,” Neil smiles, holding the position for a beat longer before pulling him back up.

They go on, waltzing around the space as if the leaves are harps and the forest is a string orchestra, playing the melodic tune of the music in the expanse and beyond. Neil is so enraptured with the pure joy on Todd’s face that he hardly registers when Todd steps on his feet a few times. He’ll take all the foot pain to have Todd look at him like that.

“I'll love you till the poets run out of rhyme.”

“Until the twelfth of never and that's a long, long time,” Todd sings softly, finishing in a whisper as they slowly come to a stop. Suddenly, all the movement of the woods cease, the air stilling. Neil can feel Todd’s soft breath, feeling his head spin as Todd blinks slowly, the light making his eyes glisten. He’s absolutely, and utterly breathtaking.

Neil’s heart and every muscle of his body know what he aches to do, encouraging him to give in to the desire. The craving in his heart for months, buried under bouts of doubt and self loathing. Do it, he thinks, imploring himself to be brave, seize the day.

Then, the snap of a branch makes them jolt apart, the world returning to its place with a crack. Neil clears his throat. “Thank you for showing me this place, Todd. I really appreciate it.”

“Course,” Todd nods stiffly, averting his gaze as a blush creeps up his neck.

The pair walk back the same way they came, the atmosphere now charged with an energy between them. Neither dare to speak a word, feeling silenced by the gust of the wind.

Neil lays awake that night for hours, the vision of his lips on Todd’s coursing through his mind until he’s eventually pulled into sleep.

Part 2

[morceid]

Peppermint Plucks

SPENCER REID X MALE READER

read on ao3

Summary: When Spencer Reid starts to feel more lonely than usual, Penelope suggests he picks up guitar. Unexpectedly, he finds himself with a crush on his teacher.

Category: fluff

Warnings: implied sexual content

Word Count:1720

A/N: requested by @riley-killjoy​ ! thanks for the request :)

Garcia noticed first. Spencer had been more absent minded at work recently. He barely finished half of his case files before lunch anymore. Giving his troubling past, it was cause for worry. So she was going to do something about it. After most everyone left the office for lunch she walked into the bullpen and sat on his desk.

“Hey, boy genius, what’s got you slacking recently?”

“What are you, Hotch?” He retorted.

“Come on, I’m being serious! It’s lunch and you’ve only finished a third of your paperwork. What’s going on in there?” She ruffled his curls and pushed them out of his eyes.

“I don’t really know. I’ve just been feeling kind of lonely recently.” Spencer shrugged.

“What are you talking about? Emily brings you coffee once a week, Derek gets you food from that Thai place you love when you're working late, and we invite you out for drinks every Friday. You’ve got people that care about you, babes.” Penelope rubbed his knee as she spoke.

“I know. I guess I just want something more? I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wish there was someone with me all the time. Someone to wake up to. Someone to go to sleep with. Just.. something.” Spencer fidgeted with the pen in his hands and looked at his feet.

“Aw, Spencer, you don’t need someone.”

“But I want someone.” He looked Penelope in the eyes almost urgently.

“Hey, since you spend so much time alone, why don’t you use your time to learn something?”

“Not sure how that would help seeing as I think I’ve learned just about everything, but go on.”

“You remember my ex Sam?” Spencer nodded. “Well, we got together because I started taking uke lessons after I got dumped. He was my uke teacher. He doesn’t teach anymore, but when I took lessons from him I used all of the time I could’ve for crying and I used it to play. Why don’t you give it a try?”

“Fine. I’m not playing ukulele though. Totally not my style.” 

“Totally not your style. Got it. Your first lesson on whatever string instrument you please is on Friday.” She got up from the desk and walked towards the elevators.

“Hey, Pen?”

“Yes, sugar cakes?”

“What’s the name of your current teacher?”

“Y/N!” She called as the doors of the elevator closed.

“Y/N..” Spencer repeated to himself.

On Friday Spencer showed up to Penelope’s apartment at 5:30, 30 minutes before Y/N would get there. As Penelope tuned her ukulele Spencer rambled about the history of string instruments and their improvement through the years. He jumped when there was a knock at the door.

Penelope opened the door and Spencer thought he was dreaming. Y/N seemed to be glowing before him. His smile was soft and kind. 

“Penelope! Good to see you again. I see you have a friend today.” Y/N said as he hugged Garcia.

“Yes! Y/N, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is Y/N.”

Y/N reached his hand out.

“Oh, he doesn’t-”

“Hi! It’s good to meet you.” Spencer took Y/N’s hand in both of his and shook gently, surprising Penelope.

“You too. Penny told me you’re looking for something other than a uke, so I got some other instruments in my car, but here’s a guitar for now. Pen, why don’t you start showing him some chords as I get the other instruments?” He slipped the guitar case off of his back and gave it to Penelope.

They sat on the couch together and Penelope showed Spencer the chords and how to play them.

“So, what do you think?” Penelope asked.

“About what?” Spencer wondered if Penelope could sense his nervousness that easily. He didn’t normally believe in true love at first sight, but holy hell did Y/N make him. When he shook his hand warmth spread through Spencer’s body and he swore that you could see his eyes turn to hearts. God, he hoped it wasn’t just him being lonely that caused him to think like this.

“About the guitar, silly. What else would I be asking?” Penelope chuckled.

“Yeah, of course, uh, the chords are really easy. Did playing come to you this fast too?” Spencer quickly changed between hand positions and mouthed the letter of each note.

“Definitely not! It took weeks to teach Penelope just two chords.” Y/N laughed as he brought in a violin and cello, each held in cases on his shoulders. The sound of his voice caught Spencer’s attention. He loved how he articulated his words. “Why don’t you try strumming on that?” He threw Spencer a pick.

Spencer gave an experimental flick on the first string before going across all of them. The sound came out strong. Penelope looked shocked as a perfect E flat tone rang through her apartment.

“Whoa! You’re really good. You sure you’ve never played a guitar?” Y/N asked.

“Well, my roommate in college played pretty often but I never learned from him. Always stayed up late because of his playing though.” Spencer said.

“Makes sense.” Y/N sat on the couch next to Spencer. “He ever let you try?”

“Nope. I guess I just memorized what chords he played for fun.” Spencer nervously smiled.

“So, you gonna go with the guitar?” Penelope asked.

“Yeah. It’s familiar. Easy to learn.” Spencer strummed again.

“Okay, well I’ll go practice in my room so I’m not disturbing you.” She got up and ran to her bedroom.

Y/N went over the correct way to strum in order to produce the correct sounds and Spencer got a hold of it fairly quickly. Over the next few weeks Spencer would go to Penelope’s apartment at 5:30 every Friday. Soon enough he began to learn his own song. Lessons would be an hour with Spencer and then an hour with Penelope.

One Friday Y/N stood behind Spencer and guided his hands to the strings. Spencer lightly gasped and tried to seem at ease as Y/N’s fingers touched his own. He smelled like peppermint and sweet candies to him.

“I think we’re alone now.” He whispered.

“What?” Spencer turned his head to look at Y/N in confusion.

“Uh, the name of the song. It’s uh- It’s by Tiffany Darwish.” He took his hands off of Spencer’s and leaned down to shuffle through his sheet music.

“Oh. Okay.”

The next Friday Y/N suggested they go on a little field trip to a guitar shop. It was time that Spencer got his own guitar instead of always using Y/N’s. They found one that fit comfortable in his arms and with the permission of the owner had his lesson in the store. Seeing as they all went in the same car, Y/N would drop off Spencer and then he would go to Penelope’s and they would have a lesson.

Y/N walked into Spencer’s apartment with him. Penelope stayed behind in the car.

“So, this is your apartment? Why haven’t we had a lesson here?” He asked.

“Guess I just never thought to ask.” Spencer laughed.

Y/N moved behind Spencer and brought his hand onto his hip. Spencer turned around swiftly. Now Y/N was holding the small of his back.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” Spencer breathed out.

“I’ve liked you for a while now, Spencer,” he took the pale man's face in his hands. “Can I kiss you?”

Spencer nodded and pressed his entire body up to Y/N’s. The kiss started slow and innocent, but Spencer loved the taste of Y/N’s peppermint chapstick and they slipped their tongues in eachothers mouths. The intrusion made them moan and Y/N pushed them against a wall.

“What will we tell Penelope?” Spencer said as Y/N moved his kisses to his chin.

“Why do we have to tell her anything?” He sucked hard onto Spencer’s neck, where any marks would be hidden just under the collar of a work shirt.

“Oh…”

Monday was the worst day for the weather to be hot. Y/N’s hickeys still hadn’t faded from Spencer’s neck and if he changed into a regular t-shirt from his go bag they would definitely be visible. Against his better judgement, Spencer changed in the bathroom. He’d rather die of embarrassment than heat.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What you got goin over there, pretty boy?” Derek laughed as Spencer sat back down in his seat.

“Leave me alone, Morgan.” He scoffed.

“Nuh-uh. No way. If you got a girl I wanna be the first to know.”

“Not a girl.” Spencer mumbled.

“What was that?”

“He’s not a girl.” Spencer said clearly.

“Hey gu- Whoa! Spencer what is that?” Emily walked in with her coffee.

“Pretty boy has a boyfriend.” Derek stated.

“What?! Why didn’t you tell me? Aw man now I feel bad about setting you up on that date last week.”

“THAT was a DATE?” Spencer nearly screamed.

“Yep. And she’s still wondering why you haven’t called her back. So, what’s his name?” Emily laughed.

“I can’t say it. Also, he’s not a boyfriend. At least not yet.”

“Why not? Too embarrassed?” Now JJ had joined in the conversation.

“No! It’s just-”

“What is it, Spence?”

“He’s Garcia’s ukulele teacher..” He sighed.

“Wow, pretty boy. Wow.”

The next lesson progressed the same as it had two lessons before. Penelope was practicing in her room.They sat on the couch, Y/N’s hands guided Spencer’s on the guitar, and they pressed their bodies together. He showed how Spencer’s hand should pluck at the strings and once he got the hang of it they began singing the lyrics to “I Think We're Alone Now” together.

“I think we’re alone now..”

“There doesn’t seem to be,” Spencer spoke the next lines into Y/N’s lips, “anyone around.”

They began kissing, slow and deep. They pressed together and as Spencer turned more towards Y/N he dropped the guitar on the ground. The sound alerted Penelope and she rushed to the living room only to find Spencer pushing Y/N into a lying position on her couch with his lips. The second they heard her gasp they pulled away from each other.

“Sorry, Pen. He’s just too damn cute.” Y/N laughed.

[miraculouswolf99]

Miraculous Lemonade (Song Fic)

I love the movie Lemonade Mouth and thought that the favoritism shown to the athletes over everyone else on the movie was similar to the favoritism shown to those with high-ranking parents in Miraculous Ladybug. So, an idea instantly formed in my mind. Includes my original characters Lyon and Vallia Garden.

*****

Adrien sat in the park outside of the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, eating with is two friends from Greece, Lyon and Vallia Garden. The two were doing an exchange program that helped students from other countries experience other cultures. They spoke fluent French, so they came to Paris. Adrien met them years ago when his family went to a charity fashion show that was held at the animal and nature sanctuary that Lyon and Vallia’s family owned.

The three may be a “little” annoyed with what had just happened at school. Lila “Liar” Rossi had framed Marinette for cheating, assault, and theft. Adrien made, what he called, a “deal with the devil” to get Marinette back in school. But it seemed that after her first few days back, Marinette’s parents decided it was better for her to go to an arts school instead of Dupont. 

What infuriated the trio the most was that the school made no effort to investigate any of Lila’s accusations. There was no checking the security footage, no dusting for fingerprints, not even any hearing of Marinette’s side of the story. They simply took Lila at her word and some easily framed evidence to expel the best student at Dupont. It made them all furious.

“You know the favoritism shown at your school is appalling, right,” Vallia raised an eyebrow as she looked at her friend.

Adrien sighed. “I know, I know. But what could I do about it? I’m the son of a fashion designer, not a politician like Chloe.”

“That brat’s a part of the problem, anyway,” Lyon scoffed. “The entire school was punished and she is the only one that gets out of it? I’ve seen less corrupt politicians in Gotham, and that says something.”

“I know people criticize me for being Chloe’s friend, but would you two give up a friend that you’ve had since you were a kid,” Adrien asked them.

“Honestly, no,” Vallia said. “We get how you feel, Adrien, but one day Chloe will do something unforgivable and you will have to choose between her and your other friends.”

“I think I chose a while ago but just didn’t want to admit it,” Adrien says. “Chloe had her chance to be a better person when she was Queen Bee. But even after getting to be a hero, she still got her father, Sabrina, and Aurore akumatized.”

“Is there anyone she hasn’t akumatized,” Lyon crossed his arms.

“Out of all our class, only Marinette and I have not been akumatized,” Adrien says. “And for everyone that has, only Max, Nino, and Lila were not akumatized by her.”

“Well, Lila being akumatized was probably her own fault anyway,” Lyon shrugged. “She lies with every breath she takes and one of them probably bit her in the butt at one time or another.”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you guys yet, have I,” Adrien thought he had told them already.

“Told us what,” Vallia asked.

“You two were not here when she had her real first day,” Adrien tells them. “Lila lied on Alya’s blog about being Ladybug’s best friend. She had met me after school and tried to lie about not only being the descendant of a hero but also being the holder of the fox miraculous.”

“Seriously,” Lyon raised an eyebrow. “She was actually that stupid? Why not just put up a giant light-up sign that says ‘Hawkmoth, come and attack me,’ with her address written in neon.”

“If she hasn’t been targeted, Hawkmoth probably knows that she’s a liar,” Vallia said.

Adrien nodded. “During our conversation, Ladybug herself showed up. She probably saw Lila’s interview because she immediately called Lila out for her lies. Ladybug obviously hates liars as much as Marinette. Lila ran away and the next thing I know, she is breaking into my house while akumatized as Volpina and once again claiming to be a hero.”

“So that’s how you know she’s a liar,” Vallia understood now. “But why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Because at the time she was only lying to get attention and friends,” Adrien said. “Have you seen my class, we’re all special in a lot of ways. Alya runs the most popular blog in Paris. Nino gets a lot of attention as a DJ. Juleka, Rose, and Ivan are members of a band that has been getting a lot of attention lately. Rose is friends with Prince Ali. Chloe is the mayor’s daughter. I am a model and the face of my dad’s brand. Even Marinette knows Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and has impressed my father and Chloe’s Style Queen of a mother with her designs. Compared to all of us, Lila’s lies are not that unbelievable.”

Vallia and Lyon actually see where he was coming from. Being surrounded by people her own age and yet they have accomplished so much, it made sense why Lila would want to lie about herself like that.

“But then she took things too far, right,” Lyon asked his friend.

Adrien nodded. “Once she came back from her, so called, trip to Achu, she started using her lies to manipulate the class, which you guys have seen. She lied about having tinnitus so she could sit next to me, lied about having a sprained wrist to get Kim to carry her lunch tray, she even lied about having an allergy to tomatoes to make Rose take them out of her salad for her.”

“Isn’t that why she was akumatized into Chameleon,” Vallia remembered Adrien telling them. “You told her to stop lying.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said. “When she suddenly left for her ‘trip,’ I saw no reason to humiliate her by telling people about Ladybug calling her out. Plus, it’s not like they had any reason to believe me since none of them ever believed Marinette when she told them that Lila is a liar.”

“And it does not help that no one in school ever tries to actually fact-check her stories,” Lyon rolled his eyes.

“It’s not like it’s hard, either,” Vallia agreed with her brother. “Jagged Stone published his autobiography three months ago. There is no mention of a cat, a plane crash, or anyone named Lila in the entire book. It even specifically says that he had Fang, his crocodile, since he was twenty. That is fifteen years that he has had him.”

“I know, I know, my school is full of the most gullible people in Paris,” Adrien sighed. “And now that Marinette is gone, it seems like Chloe and Lila have teamed up and are ruling the school with iron fists. I can barely get a minute without one of them hanging off my arm.”

“And it’s not like any of the teachers or Damocles are doing anything,” Lyon says. “I’ve seen you, ask, request, and even demand for them to let go of you and they never do. You’ve even done it in front if some teachers and none of them ever did anything.”

“It’s the daughter of the mayor and the daughter of a diplomat,” Vallia sighed. “They will, most likely, never do anything. Even if it involves the son of a rich fashion designer.”

“It’s not like we can do anything about it,” Adrien sounded defeated. “Damocles is too afraid of losing money from the mayor and it’s not like Chloe and Lila are ever going to change.”

He was rubbing his very sore and bruised upper right arm, which Lila had been holding onto very tightly for most of the school day. And he knew that he would also probably have to deal with more of her harassment at the next photoshoot that he has with her.

“But... can even Damocles deny change when the entire school is rallied against him and those like him,” Lyon smirked.

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking, Lyon, and I am in total agreement,” Vallia brightly smiled.

“Uh... mind cluing me in, guys,” Adrien was completely lost.

“Well, you know that Lyon and I are friends with Clara Nightingale,” Vallia started.

Adrien nodded. When the pop star had come to Paris to shoot her “Miraculous” music video, she had basically tackled the twins when she saw them. Apparently, she had met them years ago when she did a charity concert at their family sanctuary and even now treated the two like they were younger siblings to her.

“Clara had told us the reason why she started performing in the first place,” Lyon continued for his sister. “When she was our age, she attended a high school that focused entirely on athletics and nothing else. To the point where all other extracurriculars were pushed into the basement with no budget for any of them. So she used her music to spread the massage of what was happening. She wound up getting a sponsor for the music program that built an entire auditorium for her school even when the principal tried to deny it.”

“So, she basically started a music revolution,” Adrien summed up.

“Exactly,” Vallia says. “We can do the same here. Use music to show that not everyone tolerates the favoritism. It should prove more of a problem since all three of us are rich but also see it as a problem.”

“We should probably also add those that are not like us,” Adrien says. “Kitty Section could help, plus Luka and Juleka are not under Lila’s spell.”

“But Rose and Ivan are,” Lyon reminded. “Without them, we would not have a drummer or a singer. Vallia and I can sing, but neither of us play the drums. I’m classically trained on the violin and Vallia doesn’t play any instrument.”

“Kim plays the drums,” Vallia said. “And when Lila got Marinette expelled, he snapped out of her spell.”

“Guess we have our plan,” Adrien says. 

“We’ll talk with Nathaniel and Marc,” Lyon said. “They can spread it to the rest of the school and we will soon have as much support as we will need before we perform and get the Board of Education involved.”

“But what about your father, Adrien,” Vallia was worried about her friend’s ‘stick-in-the-mud’ of a parent. “He would never agree with you being a part of any type of revolution.”

“Well, my father will just have to deal with it,” Adrien shrugged. “Plus, I can always spin it to make it look good for the brand when my fans see it as me trying to help those that are neglected because they are not rich.”

The twins smirked as they walked off to get their friends in on their plan.

*****

Luka and Juleka were more than happy to use music to change Dupont for the better. Luka went to an arts school, but Juleka wanted a normal school and she was currently regretting her choice. Kim was also very glad to finally be able to show that he was more than just a jock and that he was about more than just dares and jokes. Seeing the bruises that Lila and Chloe had been leaving on Adrien’s arms just motivated them even more.

They decided to give their performance at a school dance that was coming soon. The entire school would be there. And when they talked to Marc, his class’s president Aurore contacted the Board of Education and they were going to send a few members to check out the problem.

“You guys ready,” Luka asked them as he picked up his guitar. 

“Ready as we will ever be,” Juleka answers.

“I’m just glad to finally be able to stick it to the man,” Kim grins brightly.

“The song you guys chose is certainly a good one,” Adrien looks at Lyon and Vallia.

“What can we say, we love American Disney movies,” Vallia smirked. “Makes us glad that we’re fluent in english.”

The dance got dark, allowing them to get onto the stage that was set up for them. They had convinced Damocles to let them perform, saying they had an important message to give out with their music. Since three of the performers were rich, he let them. It did not go unnoticed how he had rejected Kitty Section when they had wanted to perform at the last dance even when they had told him the same thing.

Adrien stood behind the keyboard as Kim sat at the drums while Juleka picked up her bass and Luka stood with his guitar. Lyon was taking the lead singing position while Vallia was back-up vocals and running their “special” effects. They all had their own mics for them they took turns singing their verses. They were going to get their message out whether people at Dupont wanted it to or not.

Adrien was just glad he managed to avoid both Lila and Chloe since there was no way either of them would have let go of him and let him perform. But after this, he hoped to never have to deal with either of them ever again.

The music started, the spotlights shining down on them. Lyon took the lead and began.

Lyon- “Hear it getting louder, a call for revolution Yeah, we came for what was ours, it's time for restitution We'll protect our own, take back the stone No, human nature cannot hold us down.” Luka- “Stranded at the bottom, but we're more than a whisper No, we'll never be forgotten, our blood's thicker than silver, yeah When worlds collide, it's do or die So tell me, is it wrong to stand your ground?” Lyon+ Luka- “Hear us howl, all or nothing Fangs are out, we ain't running Hear us howl, it's all or nothing.” All six- “Oh oh oh oh This is a declaration Oh oh oh oh Of a new generation It's now or never, we're in this together We'll fight through the highs and the lows No, we won't break, we're more than flesh and bone.”

Lyon gave a wink to his sister and she started the real part of the show. With members of the board in the audience, this was going to force some changes to be made. 

She pressed a button, images and videos started showing on the giant screen behind them. If they could see the board members, they would have seen some very furious faces.

All of the images were of destroyed property, bruises or scratches on people, and even of old things like the destroyed make-up bag that Chloe took a marker to. Then was the clear message when pictures of Lila and Chloe were shown with GUILTY under their pictures then with pictures of the school staff with DOES NOTHING under them.

Lila, Chloe, and Damocles were all white as ghosts.

Vallia- “The world has gone crazy and no one seems to listen Gotta step in, no more maybes, and stop the demolition Is it hope or fear? Look in the mirror Everything we built is coming down.” Juleka- “No more hesitation, it's time we start to realize With all this separation, silence is still taking sides So use your voice, make a choice And tell me, are you standing with the crowd?” All six- “Oh oh oh oh This is a declaration Oh oh oh oh Of a new generation It's now or never, we're in this together We'll fight through the highs and the lows No, we won't break, we're more than flesh and bone.” Then videos were played on the screen. The first were from the day that Marinette was expelled. It was footage from the school security cameras that they got when Markov, the ever helpful AI, hacked into them when the group asked for his help. He was more than happy to help slap some sense into Max.

It clearly showed Lila taking the test answers and putting them in Marinette’s bag. It also showed her fake falling down the stairs and placing her necklace into Marinette’s locker. The video moved on to showing all the times that her or Chloe would grab onto Adrien and would never let go no matter how many times he told them to. The video also showed it happening in front of teachers and they never did anything.

More videos showed Chloe bullying, destroying other art projects that were not her own, and even all the things she did that got most of the class akumatized when it happened on school grounds. They also got videos from Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and every other celebrity that Lila lied about. All of them saying they had never met Lila in their lives. All six- “Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy We say no more bad blood, no more bad blood Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy No way, they can't stop us, no, they can't stop us Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy We say no more bad blood, no more bad blood Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy No way, they can't stop us, no, they can't stop us.”

More videos and photos identified every bully in the school. Each and every single one of them being rich, or have influential parents that Damocles was afraid of, or both. The other students all gathered near the stage, showing their support to the band and hardly anyone supporting the staff or the bullies. Alya was still speechless over Lila’s lies being revealed and what she had said to Marinette in “defense” of Lila. Sabrina was also pale as she remembered everything that Chloe ever made her do, like stealing Marinette’s diary and locking Juleka in the bathroom. Adrien- “History changes, but we lost the pages we wrote When you lose direction, can't see the reflection you know We came from the bottom then became the problem Now everything's out of control So hey, are you with me? Let's go!”

The students cheered and danced as the band all sang. They all knew that they were now going to finally be free of the bullies and liars that have been plaguing their lives for years. All six- “Oh oh oh oh This is a declaration Oh oh oh oh Of a new generation It's now or never, we're in this together We'll fight through the highs and the lows No, we won't break, we're more than flesh and bone.”

The band finished with a bang, staring down the staff with cold eyes that said that they regretted nothing. Everyone they stared as were about as pale as a person could be.

After the dance, the Board of Education members brought everything that they had learned and seen to the rest of the board. Actions were immediately taken over the weekend. There was an intense investigation into the school and every member of the staff. Not that surprising, but Mendeleiev was the only staff member that never did anything wrong but was constantly blocked from doing anything by the other staff members.

Damocles was revealed to have been using money granted to the school for things like locker upgrades and new textbooks for his Owl gear instead. Plus he was also found out to be taking many bribes from parents of the bullies to not only keep them from being punished but to also increase their grades if they were low. He was fired immediately.

Bustier also faces a lot of consequences. When the investigation was made known, dozens of her old students came forward. It was revealed that her methods have caused all of them pain. She had spent years coddling the bullies and punishing the victims. Many ended up in therapy while the bullies usually ended up in jail for mostly violent crimes. She had her teaching license revoked and was blacklisted from ever teaching again.

The rest of the staff were all suspended until they finished courses about how to deal with bullies, how to properly run a classroom, as well as all of them having to pay finds.

All of the bullies were either expelled or suspended, depending on how horrible they were. A lot of them were having to repeat the grade because of how much their parents had spent to keep their grades up while they did hardly any work. 

Alya, while being sued for the lies she posted on her blog, did not do anything else beyond cyber bullying of Marinette. But that did get her another lawsuit from her former best friend’s parents as well as being suspended from school for a week. Her parents forced her to delete the Ladyblog.

Chloe and Lila were, of course, the worst of them all.

Chloe ended up expelled and it was found out that she was also banded from every private school in the city because of how well her bullying habits were known. Her father was also facing multiple accusations of abuse of power because of how he handled problems that his daughter caused. Chloe could also hardly ever leave the hotel without being sneered or yelled at by literally everyone in Paris.

Lila was not only expelled, but also had giant finds placed on her after she was arrested for her months of truancy. Every celebrity she had ever lied about was also suing her for slander, defamation, and libel. It was also revealed that her mother had taken away her diplomatic immunity once she had learned about all the lies that her daughter told her and everyone around her. Her reputation as a liar has spread all throughout France and she will never be able to use her schemes ever again. Her mother makes sure to inform all her future teachers and principals about her lying and bullying habits.

All while this is happening, the new band clinks their glasses together as they cheers for a job well done. And if Adrien also happens to be kissed by a certain Greek lead singer, that is just a bonus for him.

[cheri-translates]

Headcanon - let’s have a school romance

This work, 来场校园恋爱吧, was originally written by 君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it!

[ VICTOR ] 

“Class President! Don’t mark my name down - I’m not late!” 

With the fastest speed you can manage, you bolt into the classroom. The moment you rush into your seat, the school bell signalling the start of class rings.

“Seven nineteen and fifty-eight seconds.” Victor tilts his head towards the watch strapped on his right wrist. “Four seconds later than yesterday.”

The intense exercise earlier leaves you taking in large breaths. Victor lets out a resigned sigh, then hands you the water bottle at the side of your bag.

Taking the bottle, you hurriedly down more than half of its contents before slowing down.

“In that case, I’ll sleep for one more second next time so I can make it to class just as the bell rings.” 

Taking the attendance record book from Victor and giving it a browse, you realise that your name isn’t in it.

“Victor, it’s really nice to be your girlfriend. I don’t have to worry about having my name taken down.”

“If you like it, I can write your name right now.” With a blank expression, he takes out a book and begins his morning reading.

“No no no, I don’t like it.” You shake your head as though its a rattle, fearing that your name would appear in that “honourable book”.

“Victor, your little sweetheart doesn’t have the strength to do the morning reading.” You plop onto the table weakly, sending signals to him with a wink.

He continues being immersed in that mandatory ancient poetry book, but his left hand reaches into the drawer, retrieving a lunchbox and handing it to you. Inside, there’s handmade Chinese dumplings.

“...”

Victor completely missed your point.

“I’ve already had breakfast.” You wink again, attempting to make him understand.

With a furrow of his brows, he finally channels a minute portion of his concentration off the book and onto you: “What do you want then?”

“I want... a kiss~”

“Dummy.”

[ GAVIN ]

“Gavin, why did you pick a fight with them?”

With an ache in your heart, you dip the cotton swab into hydrogen peroxide and disinfect his wound. He continues staring up at the sky, as though he can’t feel the stinging pain at all.

Gavin sits on the windowsill, catching a ginkgo leaf which drifts by. After ensuring that it’s clean, he inserts it into your hair.

Seeing that he isn’t responding, you raise your volume.

“Gavin, are you even listening to me!”

“I heard you.” His line of sight travels from outside the window to you. “They were bullying underclassmen.”

As expected. 

After helping others, your Gavin would always appear as though it wasn’t a big deal. He never tells anyone the reason why he gets embroiled into fights, and wounds of all sizes are always found on him. 

After a while, teachers and students assumed that he was nothing but a bad student - ignorant and incompetent, and only knowing how to stir up trouble.

But you know he isn’t like that.

“Gavin, have you ever thought about what you want to do in the future?”

Worried the application of medicine would hurt him, you find a conversation topic as a form of distraction.

“Police officer.”

Your hand pauses. It’s an answer you didn't expect, but a reasonable one. You continue.

“Why a police officer?”

“That way, I’ll be able to protect what I believe in, and protect... you.”

[ LUCIEN ]

“So not only did you not bring it, but you also didn’t do it?” Lucien carries a stack of workbooks, collecting them as he goes down the name list of students who have yet to submit theirs. When he sees his girlfriend’s name, an evident smile surfaces. 

“I’ll definitely submit it next Monday. Could the most handsome, best and smartest student let me off this time~” You end the sentence with an exaggerated curl of your voice, making you feel goosebumps all over.

You really shouldn’t have read those comics last night. Who knew they’d be so interesting that you’d almost forget to eat and sleep?

Lucien purses his lips and furrows his brows, pretending to be deeply troubled. “But this will make things difficult for me.”

“My dear classmate Lucien, could you kindly spare your adorable, beautiful girlfriend?” You blink at him, hoping your femininity can buy him over.

“If you simply use your words, there seems to be something missing.” He taps on the name list with his pen.

All right - looks like you’ll have to bribe him.

“One kiss?” You ask, testing the waters.

“I have to submit the name list to the teacher...”

You clench your teeth. “I’ll submit it to you over the weekend!”

“All right,” he crosses your name off the list neatly. Finding it slightly unpleasant, he erases your name completely and writes it in the list again.

“In order to prevent my adorable and beautiful girlfriend from forgetting again, get your workbook from home after school, and come to the library in the evening. I’ll watch you finish it.” 

Lucien smiles, his eyes crinkling as he pushes up the spectacles on his nose. “At the same time, you can return me the fifteen kisses you owe me from previous times.”

“...why do I feel like a fox which has been outsmarted by another fox?”

[ KIRO ]

“Kiro, are you sure we don’t need to hide properly? I felt like the Dean was looking at me weirdly, as though he’d send me to the office for a lecture in the next second.” You pull your hoodie over your head, covering most of your face.

“It’s all right Miss Chips. Don’t they always say that the most dangerous place is the safest? At night, the Dean usually goes to the artificial lake to catch couples. Intelligent people like us who take a stroll around the teaching building are not easy to get caught.” Kiro grips your hand tightly, assuring you with full confidence.

After hearing what he says, you loosen up slightly, hoping the Dean wouldn’t decide to patrol over at this area.

“Miss Chips, where should go this weekend? We’ve been to the amusement park, the aquarium, the zoo... why don’t we go to the Science Centre this time?” He suggests excitedly, his blue eyes slightly foggy under the moonlight.

“...all right.” You can’t bear to be a spoilsport considering how excited he looks, so you agree with a nod. As expected, his eyes crinkle. The flickering, scattered stars in the sky fall into his eyes, causing them to brim with gentleness.

“What are the two of you doing!” An enraged voice rouses the two of you from the warm ambience. Before you can react, you’re dragged along with Kiro as he breaks into a run.

“Miss Chips, run!” Kiro pulls you, sprinting into the forested area near the lake, hoping the Dean would shift his attention away from the both of you and to another couple.

“Kiro, I told you that the teaching building was too dangerous!” You gripe, running as fast as you can.

“Nothing will happen. When the Dean finds more targets in a while, he wouldn’t care about us.” Although he’s running furiously, he exudes a calm aura.

“Miss Chips, we’ll part ways in the forest later on, and we’ll meet in class~”

[ SHAW ]

Twice each week, the teacher in charge of the school orchestra would give you special piano lessons. Along with you, there’s also a senior from the music club.

So far, the most you’ve interacted with the senior has been a mere nod of the head. However, with the upcoming school celebration activity where the both of you would perform an ensemble, you gradually grow familiar with each other.

“It’s late. Want me to send you home?” The senior packs his violin, turning his head and looking at you with a gentle gaze.

“No need, my house is nearby.” You politely decline, signalling that you’re perfectly fine heading home by yourself.

After the senior leaves, you practise for another half an hour before shutting the lid of the piano and preparing to leave the music room.

“What’s your relationship with him?”

Right after stepping out of the music room, you find both of your hands clasped against the wall. Your instinctive reaction to such a fright is to shut your eyes. But after hearing the question, you flick open one eye to look at the other party. It’s the bass player one grade below you - Shaw.

“Are the two of you a couple?”

You catch a hint of nervousness in his sharp eyes.

“We’re not.” You can’t help but knit your brows together, feeling the pain in your back from the impact seep in.

The grip on your wrists loosens slightly, and he seems to release a sigh of relief. “That’s good.”

“Shaw, why haven’t you gone home yet? It’s late.” You rub your wrists, which have turned red.

“Nothing much. I just noticed that you haven’t left.” He picks up your bag, which had fallen to the ground earlier, and pats the dust off it. “Next time, stay away from that fellow.”

“Why?” You take your bag from him, walking out of the building together.

“Because you’re my girlfriend.”

“Hey, I haven’t even agreed-”

He interrupts before you finish.

“I’ve agreed, and that’s what matters. Let’s go - I’m sending you home.”

--

More translated and original works: here

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[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the source of the author

[in-tua-deep]

20 for Vanya?

20. What-ifs/Alternate Timelines

I have a lot of what-ifs and alternate timelines for Vanya lmao, especially ones that prevent the apocalypse because I’m a sucker for a happy ending tbh

What if Vanya was included? Why not? Klaus’s powers weren’t useful for missions, Allison’s story for Claire was literally like “yeah Klaus got distracted by ghosts in the background lol” so it’s not like a kid without offensive powers couldn’t do it

you have rebellious Vanya aus, where she decides, like some neglected children do, so act out. If her father isn’t going to acknowledge anything good about her, she’s going to make him acknowledge the bad. Punishment might be the only time he pays attention to her, after all.

(let’s call this an au where the pills suppress her powers but not so much her emotions)

So you have an au where she sneaks out and joins the missions. She breaks into the mausoleum and picks Klaus up and stares her father down with a challenge in her eyes. 

Five vanishes, and Vanya gets worse. She plays her violin at 2 in the morning. She refuses to eat her broccoli. she teams up with diego to see who can piss dad off the most

(her and Diego actually get along very well in this sort of au, honestly)

Vanya gets out and plays the violin and gets angry. She plays with fury and fire and gets second chair, because Helen is actually really very good. But she makes Helen work for it. Helen isn’t secure in her position, she always knows that Vanya is a step away from taking it from her

and maybe that should make them enemies, but it doesn’t. They’re rivals. Helen respects the hell out of Vanya, and Vanya can’t help but admire the woman who makes the most difficult pieces look effortless

(RIVALS TO LOVERS: VIOLIN EDITION)

Vanya writes her book. Except she kicks down Diego’s boiler room door and is like “DIEGO”

“WHAT”

“I WANT TO WRITE A BOOK ABOUT HOW MUCH DAD FUCKING SUCKS”

“I’LL BE RIGHT THERE”

as one of the rebel kids, Vanya actually got along well with Klaus as well since she helped him sneak out and 100% also smoked at least some weed with him because it would piss off Reggie tbh though she didn’t get into the harder drugs like he did

(showing up absolutely plastered to breakfast when they were sixteen was hilarious even if the laps they had to run around the block were not)

anyway Klaus crashes at her apartment sometimes, with supervision, because she loves Klaus but he has a problem and has stolen from her before but he’s still her brother but regardless

Klaus-Diego-Vanya sleepovers where they brainstorm the book to shit talk their father. Honestly it’s kind of a blast. They all get super wine drunk and end up watching Mary Poppins together with some Very Loud Opinions about nannies in general tbh

klaus throwing popcorn at the screen: BOO WHY WAS OUR CHILDHOOD NOT A MUSICAL???

diego: idk if you can have cheery musicals about child soldiers

vanya: i mean if they can have a musical about child labor in factories and the starvation of the workers in oliver twist you could do something with child superheroes

klaus: EXACTLY thank you vanya

they publish the book (luther is uNHAPPY, vanya dedicates her book to ‘all my siblings who survived the Reginald Regime but especially those who didn’t’, and she gifts Reggie a copy that says “fuck you lol” and is signed by her, diego, and klaus), they continue living, they go to the funeral when reggie kicks the bucket

and then five shows up, feral and aching

and five tells vanya about the apocalypse, and vanya thinks about their father saying time travel messed with the mind, and then she thinks - fuck the old man he was wrong about her (ordinary, fuck that, she’s Vanya Fucking Hargreeves) and he was probably wrong about Five, too

and Five is wholeheartedly believed

“Let me call Diego,” Vanya says when Five tells her about the eye, “I bet he could totally wear a police uniform and get info about the eye. And if not, I’m absolutely sure Klaus could improvise a solution. He’s good at that.”

“Klaus??” Five asks, vaguely suspicious.

“We don’t talk about the Sleepover of 2012.” Vanya intones solemnly, and refuses to answer any further questions on the topic.

Harold Jenkins comes to the apartment and tries to woo Vanya or whatever, and Vanya is kind of like... “Look, Leonard. I can be your teacher for violin. It’s my job. But I am in a relationship. And also like, super gay. If you have a problem with that then I am not the teacher for you.”

Actually scratch Diego and Klaus getting called, which they do, Vanya looks at them and her thirteen year old brother and is like “wait. actually i know someone infinitely better to crack this case wide open.”

“Who?” Five, Klaus, and Diego all ask

“My girlfriend.” Vanya says proudly, called Helen up.

And Helen walks into the building like she’s at fucking war and has such demanding confidence that they just give her the information she seeks and apologize for inconveniencing her.

“Hey Vanya are we still on for date night tomorrow?” Helen casually asks after, and Five kind of wants to be her when he grows up honestly after watching her verbally eviscerate Lance or whatever the fuck his name is

“Yeah.” Vanya confirms, “Unless there’s other apocalypse stuff to do?”

“You take all the time you need, honey.” Helen says warmly, “After all the more time you take the less you have to practice.”

“I’m gonna destroy the concert piece and you know it.” Vanya threatens.

Helen sniffs, “Okay, whatever you say second chair.”

and then they kiss and Helen ditches and the others just kind of look at Vanya judgingly

“In fairness, she’s very hot and very talented.” Vanya defends herself.

Klaus nods sagely. Vanya nods back. He gets it. 

“Concert piece?” Diego asks, because he has priorities.

“Yeah, I’ve already asked for tickets for all of you and you will be attending Diego.” Vanya smiles prettily with all her teeth.

“When is it?” Five asks

“April 1st.” Vanya tells him, “And no that isn’t an April Fools joke. You will attend and you will marvel at my skill. And maybe run interference between Helen and Allison because I’m kind of afraid they’re going to rip each others throats out to establish dominance.”

“That’s the day of the apocalypse.” Five informs her.

“Not on my goddamn watch.” Vanya says, because her family will attend her fucking concert and they will make awkward small talk with her girlfriend and the fucking apocalypse has better lay down and get over itself because nothing can stop Vanya’s goddamn plans

“I can investigate Meritech more.” Diego offers, because Lance-or-whatever-his-name-is is clearly shady as shit, “I have police contacts I could go through. Hey Vanya, your concert tickets include a plus one?”

“They can.” Vanya shrugs.

“Sweet, let me see if Patch can come.”

“She’s way too good for you, bro.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth.”

Anyway the point is they all go home, and Diego goes to talk to his police contacts and Five is definitely at home for when Hazel and Cha-Cha attack the mansion, oops. 

“Whomst the FUCK.” Vanya yells, kicking Hazel in the crotch because she’s Vanya Fucking Hargreeves she knows self defense thank you very much

“Ah.” Five says. “Hazel. How’s it going.”

“Just peachy.” Hazel wheezes, “Why’d you betray the Commission?”

“Well, you know. They cut the dental. That was really the last straw.” Five says, sarcastically.

“The dental.” Hazel echoes back, nodding very seriously, “I fucking know. You know physical therapy isn’t even covered anymore?”

“No shit?” Five says, “I mean you’d think with a job as physical as ours...”

“I know.” Hazel howls, vindicated. 

“Five.” Vanya says, rolling her eyes, “The house?”

“Oh, right.” Five frowns, looking at Hazel, “I mean. Can you like, leave? And not come back?”

“‘Fraid not.” Hazel actually sounds somewhat apologetic, “You know what the Commission is like. They’re really gunning for you.”

Five nods, because really what did he expect, “Can you leave like, temporarily? I mean you’d pretty clearly outnumbered. I don’t even know where Cha-Cha is, but judging by the furious yelling she probably met our sister and brother and Luther is hard to kill. Trust me, if he wasn’t we would have killed him when we were like, eight. But for real, can you get out of our house? I mean. Storming the den? Seriously? What kind of information did they even give you?”

“They didn’t give us any information.” Hazel responds back, sounding appropriately outraged, “They didn’t even tell us you could teleport.”

“Well that’s just rude. You’d think they wanted you dead or something.” Five muses, “But seriously, get out of my house.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Hazel admits, and leaves, because honestly Hazel is chill like that and knows when he’s lost. And Hazel also has a lot to think about. Like the fact that the Commission sucks and doesn’t even have dental, and how pretty the donut lady is. 

and Vanya is just like... okay. Weird. Is that going to happen again? Probably? I mean. Okay, this day has already been so goddamn weird. This week, honestly.

And they keep getting attacked by the Commission. And Vanya finds out someone broke into her apartment and stole her meds. What the fuck. 

“Did your shitty assassin friends do this?” Vanya asks, waving an empty pill bottle.

“Why would they?” Five asks, honestly confused.

“Because they’re assholes?” Vanya says, honestly outraged.

“You got me there.” Five admits.

The combined forces of Diego-and-Patch (because Patch is actually thrilled that Diego is asking for help regarding an actual fucking crime) figure out that the eyeballs are being sold illegally

Klaus is not kidnapped so he’s fine, just tagging along and living his best life, however this also means that Klaus does not steal the briefcase and Hazel and Cha-Cha are fine

Vanya keeps Five close at hand because frankly she doesn’t want him to leave again and she did really miss him. Also if she does save the world she can lord it over Helen’s head forever. 

And so Five is around when Vanya’s powers manifest, probably because they just got targeted by commission goons again because they’re trying real hard to kill five and separate Vanya

“Holy SHIT.” Five says, very intelligently, “You have POWERS.”

“Wow. Gonna have to write a fucking sequel to the shit-talking-dad book.” Vanya says, honestly a little light headed.

And then Vanya finds out her powers are sound based.

“Oh no.” Vanya says, “Where the fuck are my pills. I am not relearning how to play the violin with-powers a few days before the big concert Five, what the fuck.”

“But you need to learn to control them!” Five protests, “They’re your powers!”

“They’re a goddamn inconvenience is what they are.” Vanya states, “I mean, what am I going to do with them? Stop a bank robbery with the Umbrella Academy? Yeah, no thanks, that ship has sailed and sunk to the bottom of the ocean Titanic style. I’ll figure them out when I’m not in danger of blasting the audience halfway across the continent.”

“Yeah.” Five admits, “That’s fair.”

“Besides, if I’ve been on that shit as long as I have, and it’s been a long time, I cannot even IMAGINE what quitting cold turkey will do.” Vanya points out, very sensibly, like a siblings who has watched Klaus go through withdrawal symptoms more than once.

“Maybe there’s extra at the manor?” Five suggests, “Pogo probably knows.”

“Oh yeah I bet Pogo knows something.” Vanya mutters maybe a little bitterly.

They go back to the mansion and the Commission is honestly pulling their hair out tbh, and they ask Pogo who kind of pales and is like “UHHHH YES I CAN GET VANYA EXTRA PILLS” and goes to get them from whatever stash

“Fucking sweet.” Vanya whispers, entirely done with this situation, “The only adult male role model I had and he hid my powers from me and betrayed me. Love that for us.”

Five shrugs, “I mean, you’re right. All of our adult role models were all kinds of fucked up.”

“You vanished when we were 13.” Vanya says, “Didn’t you find like, any other adults ever?”

“Oh let me tell you about the Handler.” Five says, and proceeds to do just that. Because let’s be real, the Handler was the only human interaction Five had after forty odd years alone it was pretty damn important

Vanya, on the other hand, has strong plans to eviscerate the Handler should the two ever meet because Five deserved way better than to be forcibly made into an assassin?? honestly fuck that woman

that’s it that’s the au

Vanya finds out she has powers and is like “i have a LIFE i don’t want to interrupt it with bullshit POWERS,,, also going cold turkey off my meds seems like a bad idea if I don’t want to deal with withdrawal symptoms during my concert for fucks sake, my gf would never let me live it down if i skipped”

so vanya takes her meds, does NOT destroy the world, makes every one of her siblings go to the concert and even invites Hazel and Agnes after Hazel betrays Cha-Cha to join team No-Apocalypse. 

and then introduces them all to her girlfriend

“Holy shit Vanya.” Helen deadpans, “Your family is all kinds of fucked up.”

“I know.” Vanya says, aggrieved, “It’s been a long fucking week. Want to go camping and help me figure out my cool sound based powers? Bet they’ll make me a better violin player than you.”

“I think the fuck not.” Helen hisses, always up for a challenge, “Let’s do this. Me and my violin vs. you and your dumb baby powers. You’re on.”

“FAMILY CAMPING TRIP.” Klaus hollers, with all the enthusiasm in his little heart.

“Holy shit this is going to be such a disaster, I just know it.” Diego mutters.

“Shut up, it’ll be nice.” Allison says, elbowing Diego with her pointy pointy elbows.

“It’s going to be a shitshow.” Vanya says serenely, because it is. That’s just who their family is. 

Wouldn’t have it any other way, though

[magalidragon]

making music | a Jonerys AU | fic tease

a/n: Bêcha thought I forgot this one? LOL Nope, just working on it here and there. It will be longer than I thought of course. So here’s a tease to part 1 up soon!

Once again, turning the corner, she almost stepped straight into a busker only this time a trumpet player, and when she knelt down to pick up the coins that had fallen out of a flatcap set on the cobblestone, she heard a low chuckle, and a heavy Northern accent, her blood going cold.

"You just can't help yourself can you?"

"I'm sorry I..." She whipped up, glaring. She shouted. "YOU!"

Jon chuckled, leaning against the brick wall, a foot propped up behind him, his other stretched out, and a trumpet loose in his fingers. "Me." He rolled his eyes, but still smiled. "You want a piece of my gig here or what? That why you keep stepping into my payment?"

She glanced at the cap, noting there were only a few stags; he had way more as a guitar player. She smirked up and straightened. "Maybe you should stick to strings then Mr..."

"Snow," Jon said, lifting the trumpet up. He blew into it, fingers fast on the keys, the tune upbeat, jazzy. Someone walking by tossed in a dragon coin. He finished the snippet of a song she thought she might have recognized as a twist on a famous Essosi opera aria, and had gathered a few other admirers, including, she noted, some young women who giggled behind their hands and ducked their heads coquettishly, trying to catch his attention.

It was the music that held her attraction-- although he did look good standing there in his all black attire, hair pulled from his face, his strong forearms on display. She spied some tattoos peeking out from under the rolled cuffs and one on his inner wrist, a series of musical notes on a scale. She frowned, wishing she could see it closer, wondering what song held such importance to him he wanted it inked to his skin permanetly. Or maybe, was in his mind during a drunken moment and now was inked permanently. Could be anything.

He finished the song, the crowd gathered applauding. He swept the trumpet aside and bowed, moving towards the case while people dropped coins and other things into the flatcap. Several of the women dropped phone numbers. Dany remained standing, waiting for them to disperse and Jon to collect the money. "Do they not pay you enough?" she asked.

He chuckled, unfolding the bills and darting a glance upwards through his dark curls. "They do. This is for something else." He pocketed the money and shoved the cap into the side of the padded trumpet case. He quickly cleaned out the trumpet, wiping down the gleaming brass, dragging the cloth through the valves to dry it, and set it into the velvet lining.

Dany waited and caught his attention when he stood, slinging the case over his shoulder. "Are you first cello?" she asked, wanting more information. He was the only one she knew now from the sympthony, she wanted to get as much information as possible. Especially if they were to play together.

He nodded. "Aye."

"But you also play guitar and trumpet?"

"I play a lot of instruments."

"Yeah so does everyone," she scoffed. They all said that. Viola players claimed they could play violin and vice versa. Guitar players claimed they were also proficient in banjo and ukelele sometimes. Anything for the résumé. She rolled her eyes. "There's a difference in maybe playing something and being proficient in it."

Jon eyed her sideways, chuckling. "Alright, I'm proficient in a lot of instruments. And you?"

"Four."

"Let me guess."

She grinned. "Go ahead." He'd never guess.

Jon ticked off his fingers. "Violin."

"Duh."

"Guitar."

She wrinked her nose. "Yes."

They turned a corner; she had no idea where he was going, somehow she was stuck to him like a magnet, unable to tear away. He patted his pockets, searching for somethng, and removed a pack of cigarettes. He smiled sheepishly. "Bad habit."

"Terrible habit, especially for someone who plays a brass or woodwind instrument," she chided.

He lit the cigarette, pocketing the lighter with a flick of his fingers. She spied a wolf etched into the side of the silver Zippo. He paused at a corner, studying her a moment. She shifted, oddly uncomfortable with the x-ray-like gaze. His irises were gray, a peculiar color. They shimmered, reminding her of the ash on the cigarette or else storm clouds. He blew a stream of smoke out to the side, gesturing with the cigarette. "Piano."

She grit her teeth. Eyebrow quirked, she shrugged. "Alright. Yes."

"I've got three. How many more guesses do I get?"

"One more, I told you I play four."

Jon kept his gaze on her, once again giving her the x-ray once over. He narrowed his eyes and smiled wide. "Harp."

Her mouth dropped. What...how...WHAT!? "You cheated!" she exclaimed, at the same time he burst out laughing. He dodged the fist she flung out to smack at his shoulder, this perfect stranger, but she was positive he deserved it. First for chastising her when she completely accidentally stepped into him, then for his comments after her incredbile audition, and now well, for whatever was happening with this. She glared at him, simultaneously impressed he got them right and also annoyed.

Now he laughed. "How did I cheat? I didn't know you until like three hours ago."

"But you did," she realized. He knew her real name. Could have been a good guess, but she tried vrey hard to keep the lives separate. So how did he know?

They were still walking. She realized they were approaching a nondescript old building, stone and worn, with moss growing on the side from the healthy amount of humidity King's Landing endured. There was a large olive tree out front, providing shade over a fountain of a series of wolves chasing each other. They stopped near the entrance to the small courtyard, his fingers idly running down the strap of his trumpet case, his cigarette almost worn down to the filter.

He flicked off some ash, drew in a last pull of it, and stubbed it out, tossing it into a trash can. He smiled again, but it didn't meet his eyes. He tapped her case. "Violin, easy." He gestured to her fingers. "You have piano hands, calluses on your wrists, your black and white outfit, probably what, teacher too?" She scowled, refusing to acknowledge he was right. He carried on. "Guitar because that was actually just a guess."

"And harp? How'd you guess that?" she demanded.

Jon blinked, shrugging. "You're a Targaryen."

Her jaw set. "Yes," she ground out. She arched her brows, silver bouncing up to her hairline. "Which I would kindly request you keep to yourself."

"You should probably hide your eye color then."

"I could just be Lyseni or Valyrian otherwise."

"You have your mother's face," he said. He continued, her shoulders drawing back at that, surprised. He smiled again. "And Rhaegar Targaryen was one of my first music teachers. I know a Targaryen and I know he has a little sister and well, Targaryens are the only harp players that actually make it a worthy instrument to learn." He grinned wider. "I'll give you a hint. One of the instruments I do not know how to play is harp."

Rhaegar's student? Her mother? Harp? What? There were questions swirling around in her mind, before she could ask him to clarify. He walked by her and to the fountain, dropping some of the coins in it and then depositing his earnings into a box near the entrance to the building. He tipped his fingers to his temple, saluting her. "See you around Daenerys Targaryen. Or Dany Storm. Which do you want me to call you?"

"Dany," she whispered, unsure what to make of him.

He nodded, smiling. "Dany." He turned, walking off and reached into his pocket, removing a harmonica, lifting it to his lips and humming off on it as he wandered away, out of sight.