#man the more i learn about the online spaces i hung out around as a kid the more grateful i am that i did nothing but mind my own business

[crowswarm]

😤

[dokifluffs]

Babysitters | Ushijima, Sakusa

Pairings: Ushijima X Reader (gender neutral), Sakusa X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: fluff tehe 

Request: “Can I request babysitting with Sakusa and Wakatoshi (separate)” - anonnie

Author’s Note: Of course you can tehe. Thanks for waiting patiently while I cleared some things off my plate. This, like always, was fun to write. Thank you for requesting and happy reading! PS, i might’ve gotten a lil carried away writing these scenarios aksjdhaksh

Ushi: 

“Hey, guys!” You bent down and swept your niece and nephew up as they ran into your arms, almost knocking you over

“You’ve gotten so big!” You swung their little hands in yours

“Thanks for taking them tonight,” you stood and hugged your sister as she stood near your front door. She had asked you to take care of her kids for the night as she had to head back to work for a meeting

“It’s nothing, plus I haven’t seen them in so long, and Ushi and I can entertain them.” You saw your sister off as she drove off before getting back to the living room, following the sound of the voices of your nephew

You walked into the sight of Ushi standing as your nephew hung from his hand, squealing in excitement while your niece looked in amazement, wanting to go up too but was too shy to ask, clinging on to the bottom of his shorts instead

“They’ve grown so well like last summer’s harvest amshjd,” Ushi looked to you

“And they remember you,” you smiled. You plopped down onto the couch, your niece letting go of his shorts and stood at the edge of the couch, her stuffed bunny in hand

“Hey, sweetie,” you picked her up and she sat down in the little space by your legs, snuggled up beside you as she watched at how “high” her brother was in Ushi’s grasp

You could remember the first time they had seen him, the fear in their eyes seeing such a stoic man, his tall and broad stature looking menacingly down to them when they were even younger

He wasn’t the best at it but you had to get him to smile to make them trust him and think he was a good guy, which indeed he was

It was still early in the evening, just around dinner time which was perfect

“Do you guys want pizza for dinner?” You didn’t know what other response you were gonna get as they cheered loudly, chanting for cheese pizza 

You ordered it online and began playing twister while waiting. Their energies were endless, giggles never ceasing as they played 

You sat leaned into the back of the couch as Ushi tried his best to play along, trying also to not crush them with his body if he lost 

which he did... numerous times, also because he wasn’t the most flexible 

but after a bit, your nephew found one of Ushi’s volleyballs behind the couch near the corner, out of the way. He picked it up and asked what it was and asked to play with it 

The two of you saw no reason to not play so on went the shoes and into the backyard, your laptop sitting on the couch that faced the glass sliding door so you could see how far the pizza was in the stages of it being made and delivered 

The kids stood in front of him as he knelt down to explain volleyball, patient whenever they jumped in, asking a question about how to play and etc while he was in the process of doing to already 

He positioned their bodies, showing them the proper form of how to receive, pass the ball back up

the two of them were pretty bad but they loved it. They didn’t care about the burn of the leathery ball when it bounced off their arms, they wanted to keep playing, even when the pizza already arrived 

they were so eager while eating, the entire topic over dinner about volleyball and Ushijima 

they were filled with so much curiosity, it even made him unsure about what to say sometimes where you fortunately stepped in 

Dinner went by a lot faster than you realized. When they finished their last bites, they were so eager to go back outside but it was too dark and they would’ve been eaten alIve by the mosquitos

“How about you show them some of your games?” you offered as they pouted, sulking on the couch, the ball sitting between the two of them 

“Is it alright?” he asked. He felt like he should put something more entertaining to watch like an adventure movie or something or played more board games and what not instead 

“of course. they had so much fun earlier. Who knows, maybe they’ll even grow to play when they’re a bit older and maybe even go pro like you.” You brushed your fingers through his hair, ruffling the sides as he nodded, listening 

He looked up a couple videos and casted it to the tv. All the gloomy auras around the two of them were off and they were suddenly sitting on the ground, their eyes glued to the screen 

“Woah, that’s you?” Your nephew stood as he frantically pointed to the tv, his eyes wide as he stared back to Ushijima 

“Yes,” he smiled 

The two of you sat back on the couch in amusement watching the two of them watch the game 

their little minds were blown and they wanted to play more 

when you tried to get them to sleep, for the first time, it felt impossible. They were glued to Ushi’s hips so he had to be the one to put them to bed in the guest room, promising them that he’ll take them one day to the gym where they could really learn to play for real 

Sakusa: 

“I am leaving.” Sakusa didn’t even step through the door when he saw you carrying your brother’s baby, your baby nephew

You had told him you were going to be busy with something today and that he was welcome to join but he didn’t know you were going to be babysitting

And babies were the germiest of germs

The thought itself was enough to make him shudder- how they crawl on their hands and legs across the floor then proceeding to play with their toys that’s been bitten and chewed on, left on any surface which who knows has been last cleaned

He almost gagged

“Aw, Kiyoomi, don’t be like that. Just stay with me today?” You asked. “Look how cute he is,” you spoke in a baby voice bouncing him at your side, making the biggest smile appear

“He’s covered with germs,” he grimaced at the young child who looked up to him with such bright eyes. “You should wear your mask and gloves…. I’ll go get some, I have extras in my car-“

“Kiyoomi, no,” you called out to him but there was no point, he was already opening his trunk where he kept a special drawer type of compartment that constantly disinfected and cleaned his gloves and masks

When he returned, you rejected his offer. “Kiyoomi, I’ll be fine, just, please come in. You came all this way just to turn back?” The drive itself was almost an hour away from your guys’ place

“Yes,” he deadpanned before he turned away

“You’re going to leave me all alone, omi?” Your voice itself was enough to stop him in his tracks, turning around to see your saddened look, the feeling of burning guilt swelling up inside of him

You looked down to the ground as you nodded and turned back into the house, walking away from the door as it slowly swung shut by your foot. Checkmate

He could feel his brow twitching knowing exactly what you were doing and the worse part was that it was working

“Weeee, airplane~ Yay~” he could hear the sound of your voice as he walked down the hall, his mask and gloves on as he approached you

He stood hesitantly in the doorway at the end fo the hall that opened up to a tall living room, the golden rays of the sun being blocked by white blinds that made the room glow with a light ambiance

“Wanna fly again?” You asked in a babying voice to your nephew as he burst into a fit of giggles, his hands reaching toward you

“One- two- three, weee!” You lifted him up an arms-length above you

“Do you wanna fly with Uncle Omi?” You turned toward him and approached, Sakusa’s feet stuck to the ground as he stood there

It was too late for him to leave you now that he was here, the door shut behind him

Your nephew clung to your shirt, his infant eyes bright as he looked to your boyfriend, their eyes locking

You were taken aback when your nephew reached his hands out for him, usually not boding well with strangers but he whined meaning he wanted him as Sakusa staggered back

“No, no way,” Sakusa shook his head firmly. “I’m here but I’m not holding him or touching or anything with him.”

“Please? He wants you, omi. Plus, I need to use the bathroom. Can’t you just hold him till I get back?”

You jutted your lip out just the slightest bit. He couldn’t believe how practically identical the two of you looked but caved

“Fine.” He took your nephew from him, holding him securely in his hands but not bringing him any closer than his arms-length as you went down the hall, disappearing

He bit his lip not wanting to be near your nephew’s face, almost gagging and fainting when snot dribbled down his nose

“Y/N, come back,” he called, his voice echoing in the spacious house but nothing

You stood in the bathroom listening to him, not using it at all

“Y/N?” No answer

“Ugh, gross, he commented as he sneered at him behind his mask

But your nephew was entranced by Sakusa

He looked up to him with bright eyes, his hands reaching out and his whines getting louder and more demanding, wanting to be closer

“No, Y/N is gonna come back and take you away. I won’t touch or do anything with you today,” he huffed, looking down to him

But his eyes and aura were too menacing for him. You could hear your nephew as he cried and wailed, squirming in Sakusa’s grasp

“Hey- stop, you’ll fall,” he tried to readjust his hands until your nephew was about to fall, only for Sakusa to wrap his arms around him, securing him in his grasp but now he was pressed to his body

Your nephew’s cries died down a bit now that Sakusa held him close

He instantly clung to his shirt as tears dripped off his chin making little wet spots on Sakusa’s shirt

“Ew, don’t get your snot on me,” he was disgusted seeing his teary face so close to his now, making him feel like he was exposed despite still wearing gloves and mask

“Blow,” he demanded as he grabbed a tissue from his pocket, holding it lightly over his tiny nose. Obeying, your nephew blew into his nose and Sakusa was quick to dispose of the tissue into the trashcan in the kitchen

You peeked your head out of the bathroom hearing running water and followed it toward the kitchen

“Wash all the germs away,” Sakusa held your nephew over the sink counter as he rubbed his hands that were lathered with kid-safe soap, the water warm enough so it wouldn’t burn him

You had to cover your mouth from laughing at such the Sakusa thing he was doing with your nephew, teaching him how to properly wash his hands

Although your nephew wasn’t old enough to talk yet, he looked up to Kiyoomi like he was understanding every word as easy as breathing

“Are your hands dried yet?” Your nephew waved his damp hands around before Sakusa caught them in his, drying them with more tissues. “Alright, let’s go find Y/N,” he took your nephew into his arms and turned, finding you with a sly smile on your face with your arms crossed, your back leaned on the wall

“Seems like you make a pretty good babysitter, after all,” you reached for your nephew, only for him to wrap his short arms around Sakusa’s neck

“No!” He whined, your jaw practically dropping to the ground

“Wow, his first word and he says no to me.”

For the rest of the day, your nephew was clung to Sakusa’s side like he was his father but the sight was memorable for you since you’ve never seen a parental- type of side to him

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046  @mazey-chan  @sunboikyo00  @kara-grayson04​  @fortheloveofbakugo​ @tsumtsumsemi​ @osamuonigiri @sam-ate-giorno​​​ @1-800-wholesome​ @realityisoftendisapointing@plantisnotplant @k-eijiakaashi​ @pink-panda-pancakes​ @differentballooncollection

[earth-ambassador-jim]

Lost Souls: Story 11

Something New

Lost Souls Summary: Merlin awakens early from his sleep. He decides  that he doesn’t want to leaving anything to chance and kidnaps the young  James Lake Jr. to began training his Trollhunter as early as possible.

Barbara  is determined to hunt down the man who kidnapped her son. In her  efforts to get her son back she finds a strange old radio that speaks to  her in a woman’s voice. The radio leads her to an underground society  of shapeshifters.

Mother and son meet again years later as strangers on opposing sides.

AO3 - Fanfiction

~~~~

~~~~

“Head up! Don’t block the blow: redirect it.”

Eli tries to comply but it’s hard when his arms feel like they’re made out of jelly. Instead of being redirected Jim’s staff pushes Eli’s down causing him to bop himself in the forehead with his own weapon.

Eli topples over like a load of bricks and lays there. A low whine seeps through his lips as his tailbone pulses with pain from hitting the ground too hard. That will be another bruise for his collection.

He’s actually managed to get more bruises training with Jim than he has from Steve. Which is really saying something.

“Are you okay?”

He opens his eyes to see Jim hovering awkwardly over him, staff still in hand. He’s shifting back and forth on his feet in a way that tells Eli he’s debating whether to keep pushing him or end the session here.

Eli doesn’t really want to disappoint him, so he tries to sit up. All his muscles protest. He lays back down. Yeah, he isn’t going anywhere. The training montages in movies really fail to capture just how much pushing oneself to the limits hurts.

“We’ll stop for the day,” Jim decides.

He sets his staff against the house before retrieving Eli’s and setting it there too.

“Can you get up?” Jim asks.

Now that he’s not in training mode he stands a little less straight and his expression softens from his previously sharp focused gaze.

“Yeah… maybe,” Eli says, his voice squeaking a little. “Just a second.”

Eli lays on the ground just breathing and trying to summon the energy to make another attempt at standing up. He knows he’s going to be sore in the morning again.

He honestly wants to give up. Clearly he isn’t cut out for this.

There’s movement to his right and Eli looks over to see Jim laying down beside him. The blue skinned troll blends in almost perfectly with the night; except for his eyes which glow a faint, ethereal blue. He settles on his back, head propped just slightly up by his horns.

“So…” The troll says slowly. “You were telling me that human constellations are different than troll ones?”

Eli nods slightly, unable to look away. His glasses slide down his nose. He quickly pushes them back up.

“Do you want to compare?”

“Really?!” Eli squeaks, surprised.

Next to exploring the strange and unusual, stars and space has always been one of his greatest interests. Something about the vastness and boundlessness draws him. He studies every book he can get his hands on.

This is a chance to learn what a being that isn’t human sees. That’s… that’s something beyond his wildest dreams.

But more importantly, it’s a chance to talk about something that he loves with a friend.

“Eli?”

Jim is looking at him rather nervously. Eli realizes that he’s teared up.

“I’d like that,” He says. He pushes his glasses up to swipe at his eyes before giving Jim a smile.

~~~~

As predicted, Eli is very very sore.

He spends the day limping through his classes. He wonders if this is what old people feels like. He’s so glad when it’s time to go home.

His arm positively aches as he transfers the textbooks he doesn’t need to his locker. As much as he enjoys spending time with Jim he’s glad that the Trollhunter won’t be over tonight. He doesn’t think he can take another round of training.

He plans to take it easy when he gets home. He can get his homework done and then he’ll see if he can snag enough of his friends from the forums to play a round of Among Us.

Eli flinches as a hand lands on his shoulder. Without turning around he already knows who it is. Automatically his shoulders draw up toward his ears as he pulls his arms in close to his chest.

“What do you want Steve?”

“Why, I was just worried about my favorite nerd,” The blond bully says with mock sincerity. “I haven’t heard any of your wild conspiracies and was starting to be concerned about your health.”

Eli hasn’t been sharing his theories and discoveries since meeting Jim because he promised Jim to keep trolls and the other creepers… creatures running around Arcadia secret. He still discusses aliens but he’s been sticking with his friends online and Jim now, since they don’t laugh at him.

He figured since he had been keeping to himself Steve would ignore him, but now he’s seeking him out because of that.

There really is no winning, he realizes.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” Eli asks quietly.

Steve doesn’t appreciate that.

The blond bully shoves him and he hits the locker hard sending a violent jolt of pain through his back. His books fall out of his arms and scatter on the ground.

“Don’t talk back to me butsnack.”

Eli glances around but there’s nowhere to escape in the crowded hallway and, as usual, no one seems inclined to help.

“I think you need to spend some time in your locker until you remember your manners,” Steve continues with a glint in his eyes.

A whimper escapes Eli at that. He doesn’t want to spend another hour stuck in the locker again. His eyes dart around frantically.

Steve reaches for him and takes a step forward, his foot landing just in front of Eli’s spilled textbooks.

“Use your surroundings as a weapon.” Jim’s voice whispers in the back of his mind.

With no other options presenting themselves, Eli kicks Steve in the shin as hard as he can. The bully lets out a yelp and grabs at his injured leg. Eli doesn’t wait for him to recover. Ignoring the protests of his aching muscles he shoves him hard in the chest. Normally it would have done nothing but Steve, already off balance, stumbles and his foot lands on Lord of the Flies. He topples over backward and slams hard into the ground.

The hallway goes completely silent.

Eli stares, his heart still racing. He can’t believe it. He actually managed to take down Steve.

Steve Palchuck! The boy who’s been tormenting him since kindergarten.

Around him all the other kids start murmuring.

Then someone cheers and then the whole crowd is whooping and hollering.

Steve seems to have recovered from his shock and is getting up. He’s turning a violent red and it’s pretty clear that he’s going to get revenge. Eli has the feeling he won’t get lucky a second time.

“Hey! What’s going on here?”

Eli is about ready to collapse from relief when Coach Lawrance’s voice breaks through the noise. The crowd of students disperses like cockroaches. Steve backs off, shooting him glares.

Eli gathers his books and slinks off to get his bike with the distinct feeling that this incident will come back to haunt him.

~~~~

“Can you believe it?” Mary squeals.

Her fingers are darting rapidly over her phone. No doubt she’s already uploading a video to one of her many social media accounts. Steve is going to be livid.

“Girl, I saw it but I still don’t believe it,” Darci says.

Eli Pepperjack getting one up on Steve was the last thing she had been expecting out of school today.

“What do you think Toby?” She says nudging him in the ribs.

Since they’ve made it to high school and have Claire and Mary to hang out with, she’s determined to get him to come out of his shell.

Toby blinks and looks up from his phone.

“Yeah it was pretty cool,” He says, eying the other two girls hesitantly.

Claire give him a friendly smile and he awkwardly smiles back before quickly returning his attention to his phone.

Darci sighs and shoots Claire an apologetic look. Claire shrugs in response and then she, Mary and Darci continue to discuss the strange happenings of the day sans Toby’s input.

~~~~

“Would it hurt you to try to be a little friendlier?”

Toby winces. Yeah he deserved that one.

“Sorry,” He says, a slight flush crawling up the back of his neck.

Darci lets out a little huff.

“You should be, Mary and Claire are the best. Come on TP you’ve got to give them a chance.”

Toby doesn’t reply. Instead opting to instead focus all his attention on the game. His fingers fly over the controls. He understands what she’s getting at. He really does but well…

“I guess I’m just not ready for new people.”

There’s a ping as they reach the end of the round. Toby hazards a brief glance up and sees Darci looking at him with a puzzled frown.

“But you know Mary and Claire,” She says. “I’ve been friends with them for as long as I’ve known you. You’ve hung out before and never had a problem with them.”

“I know,” He mutters. “It’s just…”

He doesn’t want to admit it. It’s pathetic.

“It’s Jim, isn’t it?”

Toby gives her a weak grin.

“Have you been taking lessons from your Dad? Cause that was some real detective work there.”

Darci snorts.

“It doesn’t take a detective to figure that one out.” She gives him a little poke on the shoulder to emphasize her point.

Toby sighs and drops his controller.

“It’s not just Jim,” He admits in a subdued tone. This is something he’s thought about a lot. “It’s Mom and Dad, too… Heck even Dr. L just up and left. It was fine hanging out with them once in a while as your friends but what’s the point in me becoming friends with them? Once we get done with high school everyone is just going to move on. I just don’t want to deal with that.”

It would be bad enough when Darci moved on.

He can feel her staring at him.

“You know I’m not going to abandon you, right?” She asks.

Toby winces. It sounds bad out loud. She puts her hand on his shoulder and he glances up hesitantly. She’s smiling at him in a very gentle and sad way that makes his chest ache.

“Even if we end up on opposite sides of the world I’ll keep in touch. You won’t lose me okay?”

“You don’t know that.” It slips out before he can stop it.

Darci sighs.

“Look I… I guess there really is no way to know for sure but do you really just want to give up? Just like that? To spend your whole life alone?”

“Not really…” Toby says slowly.

“Then can you give them a try? For me?”

He can’t resist those big brown eyes.

“Okay,” Toby says. “I’ll give them a chance, but no promises on results.”

Darci’s smile and quick hug makes it worth it. Toby just hopes he won’t regret this. He clears his throat roughly and focuses his attention back on the screen. He starts another round hoping he can drown out the uneasy feeling in his gut.

“You know I really could use a larger audience to practice my magic for. You know all of my tricks anyway.”

Darci claps her hands together

“Oh! That reminds me. Mare told me there’s a new bookstore in town. She was going on and on about how cute the guy who was working the counter was, but, more importantly, she mentioned there’s a huge selection of magic type books. Want to go check it out?”

“Sure,” Toby says. “That sounds like fun.”

He doubts there will be anything real there but maybe he can find some cool props to use for the next talent show.

~~~~

~~~~

Author Notes:

Steve has really come a long way. He was a major bully back in the beginning of the series. Hopefully we'll get to see more character development for him in Rise of the Titans. (Also more CreepslayerZ! I miss the CreepslayerZ.)

Jim grew up with Kanjigar and Merlin's training so his version of "going easy" is still really pushing it for an inexperienced human. It's going to be a while yet before Eli is not sore again.

Jim learned the Trollish constellations from Kanjigar. While he never took him to Trollmarket, Kanjigar did start taking him outside within Merlin's barrier. Stargazing was Jim's absolute favorite thing to do with him.

Next chapter we get to see Jim's visit to his old home before he became a troll!

If you like this be sure to tell me what you think :)

[stubbedbakutoes]

Ignorance is Bliss

*TW: body image issues* (y/n) overhears Todoroki badmouthing a certain insecurity of hers in front of his friends.

pairing: todoroki x fem reader

genre: angst i guess

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

//

(y/n)’s the type of person who'll go "Holy shit I’m an irresistible human being" one moment and then she's going, "ha ha who am I kidding I've got zero attractive traits," but it’s all a part of growing up and slowly learning to accept herself, she suspected.  

She's progressively learning to love herself, because she's got Todoroki as a boyfriend, a man who’s the expert in telling her that she's "so, so perfect," and whenever Y/N says as much, she'd get a disbelieving scoff and then a list, almost, about why she's apparently so good-looking inside out whenever Y/N started to doubt herself, doubt him, doubt everything and anything.

Todoroki's the one who's been all "you're so sexy," and "I don't understand how you don't see it, baby," and "if I'm a six then you're literally off the charts". He's been the one to slowly but surely coax her into loving herself, to making her do things (like going on a diet, or to the gym) because she wants to – not for the sake of fitting into society's standards of beauty.    

One day Y/N entered his house whilst making sure that her presence remained unknown for the surprise visit to be successful. Then, the sound of some video game echoed around the house, followed by the voices of Todoroki's best friends.

"Not really, guys." She heard Todoroki scoff obnoxiously. "I mean, her legs though. Sometimes her thighs takes so much space, more than me, even when I'm manspreading since it flattens out to the size of an island, or something." He complained, and just laughed like he hadn't just said something insensitive and heartbreaking thing for (y/n) .  

Usually they'd be laughing with her – not at her – but shit happens and now they're too preoccupied laughing over her for them to have noticed her come in.

She can tolerate criticism from some strangers online or even face to face. (y/n) takes those words in her stride, beaming at them, even, as they spit out their insensitivity to her. When it comes from Todoroki, who was all cold on the outside but is dimpled grins and endless, selfless love for everyone around him – that. That she can't handle.

Y/N can't help but think if all his body positivity been a joke all along. Like a bad fan fiction, where Todoroki actually has a split personality wherein he's a massive playboy who'd lost a bet and had to be all lovey-dovey with her until a certain length of time. (y/n) hoped that in the process he saw through her flaws and fell for her, hard. But god damn, it seemed to far-fetched from how passionate Todoroki sounded while hating on her earlier.

If he did turn out to be a massive twat, then (y/n)'s made a grave mistake by falling for this asshole's cheap tricks, hasn't she? She'd been too blinded by love that she's never thought there would come a day where she would regret falling for him. Looking back at how she believed that Todoroki and her were going to last was too naive of her. This must be one of the most gut-wrenching feelings she's ever experienced. It's true when they say ignorance is bliss.

Y/N inhaled deeply. I've got to be logical about this. She contemplated, bringing a hand to her forehead. Can't just immediately jump to conclusions, right?    

She took a couple steps into the house, plastering on a grin. whilst hiding her thighs with the tote bag placed near the front porch, for some reason. With a glance to the wall clock, she realised that she's been gone far longer than she thought and that the guys he was previously chatting with are out of the picture.

"Hey," (y/n) greeted, almost nervously, before she yelled at herself internally because she's got to be all nonchalant about this, afraid of blowing up her cover. Didn't want to give her boyfriend more things to list about things he hated about her, did she?  

"(y/n)! Come here, baby." Todoroki called from the living room, head tilted back and lips immediately lifting into a grin as she came into his line of vision. He lovingly grabbed onto her hands and tugged her down to sit her on his lap like how they routinely do. But if he thinks that my thighs are big as fuck, he must also think that I'm, like, too heavy.   

So with a forced laugh, she refused his offer and sat on the sofa beside him, rushing to a rest a square pillow on her thighs as she gave him a tight-lipped smile, earning a small laugh from him.

"Cuddle." He demanded, almost, much like a greedy child, making grabbing hands towards her.   

Y/N poked her tongue out at him, "Not now," she said in a playful tone – so practiced and perfect. Normally she'd agree right away, but it's obviously different this time because she's cross with him and also doesn't want to accidentally squash him or something.    

Minutes later, he's clearly waiting for her to let her guard down and then come cuddle him. But it never came. He's frowning now, “Ok, what’s wrong?”

“What?” (y/n) asked, pulling herself out of her day dream. "Oh I’m just-”

“And don’t say you’re just tired, we’ve been together long enough for me to know there’s something bothering you.” He said, cutting her off from the usual excuse she would give to anyone.

(y/n) breathed in slowly, eyes darting to the pillow on her lap, "I, uhm. I heard you talking about me just now."  

"You were here earlier?"  

"Went in, then stayed there for awhile, 'cos I – doesn't matter. I was just a bit... I guess, hurt, is all. I'm fine now, though, honestly."  

"Why were you – " he started, then his shoulders are tensing and his eyes are widening as his eyes dart down to the pillow on her lap and he's instantly cursing. "You heard me say that thing about you – about your – fuck. Baby, I'm sorry. I'd take it all back in a heartbeat. I didn't mean it like that, I didn't mean it at all. I just — It just. I'm sorry, baby, please don't be dissapointed. I love you so much," He looked at her from head to toe, his eyes glimmering with adoration. "I love all of you. Every bit of you."  

"It's no big deal, anyway," Y/N mumbled quietly in response.    

"Ofcourse it is," Todoroki insistently shook his head and then scooted so much closer to her, literally hauling her into his lap. (y/n) choked out a squeal, trying to get out of his hold, but he held her down, hands on either sides of her hips like she's weighing nothing more than a leaf, or something. "Baby, please." His lips moved against her skin and she stopped struggling because he's so much stronger than her. "I'm so sorry. I'm a shitty boyfriend to even think that way about you, to my friends, too, but — I just." Todoroki sighed, dropping his forehead onto her shoulder.    

"This is some bullshit excuse but, but. I wanted to– pride. It was a pride thing 'cause they were saying shit like I was whipped, 'cause I kept praising you infront of them by going on and on about you being the epitome of beautiful and how I was insecure about you leaving me one day and how I don't think I'd be able to physically and emotionally cope with that. And I just... you get the gist. Fuck. Being a male is infuriating, honestly," Todoroki huffed out, pouting at the idea of his girlfriend in agony with a pained expression after hearing his insensitive words earlier.

He lifted his head up, placing a chaste kiss to her lips, "What I said – that thing about your thighs, or whatever, I don't even remember what I said 'cause they're right — I talk about you like you hung the moon and the stars and other sappy shit like that. Plus I literally find no fault with you. I love everything about you, baby. I bet I always will."  

She scoffed, then she's smiling, letting out a little laugh, this time it's genuine. I'm definitely in love with him. definitely don't regret it, either.   

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Stalker

A/N: I got another random idea, so I wrote it! Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Guitarist!Reader Word count: 2,499 Warnings: Stalking, attempted kidnapping/assault, swearing

Every band member had their own identity that fans knew. Gerard was the frontman, Frank was crazy, Ray was known for his hair, and Mikey was known for being shy and behind the scenes.

But you had a pre-established identity being the only woman in MCR, which made you not only more identifiable but made fans love you more and more. There were lots of pros to that including the overwhelming amount of support you got from all the fans who were girls.

But that separation from the rest of the band through that identity brought its negatives too. Take for example how often your body was shamed online because you weren’t all that tiny. Or how some associated your personality with being a “closeted mean girl” when anyone who knew you personally would say just the opposite. There was always a label that had to be stamped on your forehead as a woman to remain relevant, and none of the guys had to deal with that, making it harder sometimes to deal with. But you had eventually learned to take everything with a grain of salt and brush it off.

But as soon as the band became a world wide phenomenon, things escalated for everyone, usually in a positive manner. For you it did too, that was until the worst of the worst happened.

The first time anything actually did happen was a stormy night, perfect setting for everything to go wrong. It was around 4 am and you were awoken by a flash of light outside your window. You brushed it off assuming it was just some lightning, closing your eyes again and trying to go back to sleep. But the light flashed a second time, this time remaining to stay through your window. You groaned, getting up from your sleepy state and putting on your slippers so your feet wouldn’t freeze.

You had a gut feeling, a bad one, so you crouched under the bedroom window where the light flashed through only letting your forehead and eyes look over it. Down below on the first floor was a figure you saw. You crouched back down again, your breath quickening. Maybe you were just seeing things, you thought. You looked back up and the figure became more apparent. It seemed to be a tall man judging by the build and short hair, in a long coat with a flashlight, the light that had shined in the window. You looked around briefly, seeing something in their hand that you could’ve sworn was a knife. Your breath stopped as you crouched down again and grabbed your phone, dialing 911 in the case anything worse happened.

You sat on the floor next to your bed for a few more seconds, clutching the device close to your chest. Then, the doorbell rang. Your eyes went wide as you took a deep breath, remembering that you had installed security. Checking the app on your phone, you saw the man in all black, but you couldn’t identify anything on his face, probably due to the ski mask, freaking you out even more. This time you knew it, there was a knife in his hand.

You went back to your phone app, this time actually calling the police. You stayed on the line with the operator in the case anything happened, but by the time the cops arrived the man was gone, leaving no trace behind. Only the security footage you had.

They only asked you a few questions, saying they would open a case since the person was armed. Then they requested you call someone to come pick you up while they investigated around the property and you agreed.

The first person you called was the most obvious. Your boyfriend of four months, Gerard (aka lead singer, obviously). You nervously put the phone up to your ear, he picked up at the second ring despite it being 4:30 in the morning.

“Y/N/N?” He asked through his groggy voice, “What’s wrong?” You took a deep breath.

“I’m, um, this is going to sound fucking crazy, I know.” You sighed, “Basically I need you to come pick me up. I’m at my house but the cops are here and-” “The cops?” He asked, this time obviously completely awake, “What the fuck happened? Are you okay?” “Yes, Gerard, I’m fine, just a little shaken up.” You admitted, “A guy came by the house with a knife and tried to get in. The cops scared him off but they have to look around the property and all.” “I’ll be there in 5.” And he didn’t lie, it literally took him 5 minutes to get to your house despite the fact you knew it was probably a 15 minutes drive. He rushed in, passing the police, as you gave them the clear that he was okay.

He grabbed you in a large hug, squeezing you tight as you hugged him back. “Are you okay?” He asked, looking you up and down as concern and fear was painted on his face.

“Yeah, just a little shaken.” You admitted, as he pulled you into another hug.

“Sorry to interrupt,” One of the police men came over to you two, “Do you have any idea what any motive could’ve been? A crazy ex maybe?” You shook your head.

“No, none of my exes would do that.” You admitted, when a lightbulb went off in your head that seemed to freak you out even more. Gerard seemed to notice.

“What?” He looked down and asked you.

“Both of us are in a pretty big band,” You explained to the officer, “So maybe it could’ve had something to do with that?” “Like a fan, you’re thinking?” He asked and you nodded, “It’s very possible. Most celebrities have had pretty bad encounters when it comes to stalker fans.” You nodded having heard other stories. Gerard’s eyes went wide. “I would suggest you stay out of the house for at least the next week to two, so if anyone does come back it’s empty. And here’s my card with my cell, so if you see anything weird just ring me up. We’ll have an officer patrol around the area 24/7 for the next few weeks so they’ll be there if anything happens.” He handed you the card which you graciously accepted, “May I ask what band you’re in?” “It’s called My Chemical Romance.” You began, “I’m one of the guitarists, and he’s the lead singer.” You looked to Gerard who smiled lightly.

“Oh, I’ve heard of you guys.” He said and you two nodded. “Well we’ll definitely keep an eye out, alright?” He said and you nodded.

“Thank you so much, officer.” You lightly smiled and he did the same back.

“No problem.”

You went back to Gerard’s place as it was now 5:30 am. “Are you tired, still?” He asked you, as you two walked in. You shook your head. “I’m not either, I’ll make us some coffee, okay? You just go sit back and relax. You’ve been through enough shit this morning.” He kissed the top of your head and you lightly laughed, walking over to sit on his couch. Gerard’s house was much bigger than yours, with 4 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms. Granted you recorded a lot of your music there so the extra space was needed.

Your boyfriend came back a few minutes later with two mugs, putting one down in front of you and sitting besides you on the large couch. “Do you want to talk about it? It may help.” He suggested and you lightly nodded. You went through everything, like you had given to the police earlier. Talking about how you saw the knife, and the bad gut feeling, all of that. At this point you couldn’t tell who was more scared, you or Gerard. “What if it is a crazy fan?” You asked, “How would they have even gotten my address? I thought we all worked so hard to keep all of that super private.” “I don’t know.” He admitted with a sigh, “It could also just be a weird person. Or someone who may have mistaken that house for someone else’s.” You nodded understanding. “Why don’t we take the day off, okay? I can call the guys and let them know not to come over-” You shook your head.

“I think working will help get my mind off of it.” You admitted, “I appreciate your idea, but I need to distract myself. “Alright.” He nodded, “Well if you need a break, just let me know, okay?” You nodded.

You hadn’t heard anything for a week, but you stayed with Gerard for that time. Partially because you wanted to, but also because he insisted you do so for your safety.

That was until one night at 3 am your phone went off. You groaned, getting up and checking it only to see it was your security app. Your eyes went wide and you grabbed your glasses. You checked and there, again, was the person. “Shit.” You muttered, finding the card with the officer from the previous weeks number written on it.

“Honey?” You heard Gerard groan, moving towards you. “What’s wrong?” He was still half asleep.

“He’s there, again.” You sighed, typing the the numbers. Your boyfriend shot up immediately as you were speaking to the officer, and he promised that he had units on their way, though you clarified that you weren’t at the house.

Your emotions were a jumbled mess. Part of you was freaking out because your stalker was back, but you also felt safe because you were not there and with Gerard. Another part of you felt angry that this could happen, while hope seemed to run through your veins thinking about how you would finally figure out why you were being stalked.

The two of you were just sitting in his bed, duvet still covering you in anticipation as you waited for a call back. When you heard the ring you immediately answered. “Hello?”

“Ms. Y/L/N, we caught the suspect.” The officer spoke and you took a deep sigh of relief, “We’re going to update you actively on this, but first we need to interview him. My advice from here on out would be to contact your attorney, if you have one, and get a restraining order immediately. It can be done within the next day so if we have to release him on bond he can’t come near you or your home.” “Okay, thank you.” You sighed again, planning on calling your lawyer first thing when you woke up.

“If you have any other questions or concerns please don’t hesitate to reach out to me, alright?” “Yes, thank you so much.” You two hung up and you looked over to Gerard. “They got him.” You said, and he lightly sighed as well in relief. “The officer advised me that I contact our attorneys tomorrow to get an emergency restraining order, for obvious reasons.” “Sounds good.” Gerard admitted, rubbing your back a bit. “Let’s try to go back to sleep, okay? We’ll deal with all this in the morning.” You nodded, falling back under the covers with him, tucked under your arm.

-A brief time skip, as in like 8 hours later or something-

“He what?” You asked your attorney as you and Gerard were suited in her office.

“According to the police report, which I just received this morning, your stalker, James Horrow, thought in his mind that you two were married.” Your mouth was open, your eyes squinted in both confusion and shock as Gerard leaned back in his chair, wiping his hand over his face.

“Jeez,” He sighed, “So he’s crazy?” Your attorney nodded.

“Seems like it.” She sighed, “As much as I hate to say it, this happens pretty often with celebrities. What is most shocking though is he was armed and was planning on kidnapping you.” This time you leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes to let everything soak in.

“So he’s crazy. And violent.” Gerard added.

“We’re putting in an emergency motion today for a restraining order against him. He doesn’t come from any wealthy family and doesn’t seem to be very financially stable so there’s a good chance that if he’s offered bond by the judge he won’t be able to pay it, but you can never be sure.” You nodded in agreement. “However, there should be no reason the judge shouldn’t sign this. I’ve had a few cases in front of her. She’s very fair and good at her job, so I don’t foresee her not granting us the motion. But in the meantime, you two stay safe and probably at Gerard’s house. I’ll give you a call when I have any news.”

“Thank you so much, Patricia.” You smiled and she smiled back.

“Of course.” She shook both yours and Gerard’s hand before you two walked out of her office.

You got into your car, Gerard taking the driver’s seat and you taking the passenger, slumping down into the leather, sighing. “You alright?” Gerard asked turning to you.

“Oh yeah, I’m totally fine with the fact that a psycho dude managed to figure out my private address and showed up to my house with a knife to kidnap me because I’m his imaginary wife.” Gerard sighed, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “I’m gonna have to get a full fucking security team at the house now because I don’t know how many people now know my address.” You closed your eyes for a few moments letting your internal anger radiate out of your body.

“Or you could just move in with me.” Gerard said next, and you looked at him strangely.

“Don’t make me move in with you out of pity.” You rolled your eyes.

“This isn’t out of pity.” He admitted, “I genuinely want you to move in, have for a while now, actually since like a week after we started dating.” He lightly laughed, “I mean, it’s ultimately up to you. But I know I would feel a hell of a lot better if you were with me so if this happens again at least you’re not alone. And if you feel the need to get some form of additional security besides just the cameras, we can do that too.” He gave your hand another reassuring squeeze.

“You sure you’d be okay with that?” You asked and he nodded.

“Positive.”

“Fine,” You lightly smiled back, “I’ll move in with you.” “Great.” He smiled, beginning to reverse out of the parking spot.

“Now will you redo your damn kitchen?” You asked him. He lightly laughed.

“It isn’t that bad-” “Gerard it’s atrocious!” You sat up defensively, “It’s a monstrosity to anyone who knows how to cook!” “Hey I can cook!” He defended himself.

“You made pancakes one, and they burnt. They were literally black.” He rolled his eyes, “It’s okay, I’ll teach you more. After we completely redo the kitchen.”

[schrijverr]

What’s up with that Sims guy?

After the Apocalypse Jon becomes an uni teacher, three students take in interest in what’s up with this weird new professor.

On AO3.

Ships: JonMartin

Warnings: none, but tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag something!

~~~~~~~~

Time and space moves differently around the Fears, something that could be confusing and strange, but also pretty handy as Jon and Martin had discovered during the Apocalypse. It meant that when they’d turned the world back to normal, banishing the Fears far away, no one had even noticed it had happened.

With Elias, uhm Jonah, gone their ties to the Institute had lessened. However, Jon was still depended on statements, but Martin had decided that being away from it all would be better for him, so Jon was now working part time, while Martin kept an eye on the place.

Which is how Jon had ended up as a professor at a university. He was filling in, because the current professor had gotten pregnant and they hadn’t been able to find someone more suitable than Jon to replace her temporarily.

Jon knew he didn’t have the credentials necessary, but he Knew everything with the help of the Beholding, so he hoped that would be enough to get him through the year.

So here he was, standing in front of a big hall that was slowly filling up with students, who were eyeing him with a mix of curiosity, confusion and uneasiness.

Once everyone had settled down he took a deep breath and started: “Hello everyone, I’m Jonathan Sims and I’m replacing your previous professor until she returns from her maternity leave. I have an oversight of what you all need to know and do this semester, so lets get started with that right away.”

~

Jane looked down at their new professor and shifted in her seat uneasily. He was strange, or at least had a strange aura surrounding him. Jane wasn’t once for judging on appearances, but it was hard not to wonder what the Hell had let a man such at him to this.

He was short, sure, but he wasn’t small and he had a big presence to make up for it. His black hair was streaked with gray, but he had a youthful face that didn’t quite match up, although the tiredness that hung around him seemed old.

Beside that he was also littered with scars. It was hard not to notice the white circles that contrasted with his dark skin, it could be acne scars if they hadn’t been on his exposed forearms as well and so perfectly round. And those weren’t even his only scars, the entire palm on his right had was covered with a burn mark and the open buttons on the top of his shirt exposed a white thin scar across his throat.

So, yeah, strange.

He started to introduce himself and his voice was posh and low, but overall pleasant to listen to, she supposed. This didn’t stop her from exchanging a small look with Jesse, her best friend. Jesse raised her brows at her and the message was received, they were so going to talk about this later.

Later came as soon as they were out the door. Jesse leaned over and said: “Tell me I wasn’t the only one who got a weird vibe from that guy.”

Jane laughed and shook her head and answered: “You weren’t, I mean, this who building is filled with stuffy academics and suddenly this random dude walks in with the scars of a thug? That’s weird.”

Jesse nodded and asked: “What do you think happened to him?”

“I don’t know.” Jane shrugged, “But it seems pretty rude to just ask.”

Jesse sighed, then perked up with a realization: “We could plant a seed in Sams head.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Jane said, mischief bubbling up inside her eyes. They had known Sam since their first year and were pretty close with the guy. Sam was also known for not being the most delicate or observant and unafraid to ask personal questions. If he was curious, he would ask.

“I would.” Jesse grinned back, she tugged her along through the crowd with an: “Come on!”

They found Sam easy enough and Jesse plopped down next to him and started: “Hey, Sam. What did you think of our new professor?”

Sam shrugged and scratched his forehead as he said: “Dressed like every other pretentious asshole in here, posh accent. But seemed to know his stuff. Normal teacher if you ask me. Why?”

Jesse inflated: “Come on. Don’t tell me you haven’t even noticed!”

“Noticed what?” Sam asked with a frown.

“The scars.” Jane said.

“Oh, were they scars.” Sam said, “I thought he had weird freckles.”

“Weird fr-” Jesse began before cutting herself off and asking: “Aren’t you curious why they’re there? I’ve never seen scars like that.”

“And the burnt hand and the scar on his neck.” Jane continued, “Those don’t appear randomly.”

Both looked at her now, heads to the side in confusion. Jane said: “Oh, didn’t see those?”

Jesse and Sam shook their heads. “Well,” Jane explained, “He has this burn on his hand like he gripped a hot burning coal or something and this line here,” she drew on her neck with her finger to signal where it was, “like someone tried to slit his throat. Makes me wonder what he did before this job.”

The three of them fell silent. Lost in thought to what could’ve happened to their new mysterious professor before all of this.

~

The next lesson didn’t clear anything up in the slightest. While they were discussing the 17th century literature circles Sam had raised his hand signaling he had a question. Jane and Jesse, who had decided to sit behind him tensed up. He got called on and asked: “Dr. Sims, what did you do before this?”

Dr. Sims frowned and pushed up his glasses, before saying: “You don’t have to call me doctor, it wouldn’t be deserved. Just Sims is fine, or Mr. Sims if that feels better. And I’m the A- an archivist.”

“Am?” Sam blurted out.

Sims laughed humorlessly and said: “Yeah, part time now.”

Then he went back to the lesson and didn’t acknowledge any more questions about his life. Jane didn’t know how he did it, but he seemed to just know which people had questions about the lesson and which about him.

She walked out the hall with Sam and Jesse, who said: “That wasn’t insightful at all.”

Jane agreed: “Yeah, in what danger would an archivist be that leaves that kind of scarring?”

Sam shrugged and pulled out his phone as he said: “I can Google it.” the he muttered more to himself: “What kind of danger experiences an archivist, cool yeah.”

Jesse strained her neck to look on his screen and asked: ‘Well, what does it say?”

“Nothing much actually. Just a bunch of online archives and stuff.” Sam said.

Jane had a bit of a light bulb moment and suggested: “What if you type in Jonathan Sims?”

“Jonathan?” Jesse asked.

Jane shrugged and said: “It’s how he introduced himself during the first lecture.”

Sam typed in the name and his eyebrows crept further up to his hairline as he read the results of his search. Jesse couldn’t take it anymore and ripped the phone out of his hand, quickly scanning the page and gasping. Jane was now also curious and asked: “Well, tell me.”

She showed her the screen and Jane read the headlines. ‘Explosion at the Wax Museum, two survivors.’ The small excerpt reads: Last night there was an explosion at the wax museum, cause is still unknown, but suspected attack. Two survivors were found on the scene. Basira Hussain and Jonathan Sims, the latter of which is in a coma…

Underneath that is another headline. ‘Attack at the Magnus Institute unearths body of former archivist Gertrude Robinson’ with a picture of a big fire brigade, some police and an ambulance under it, she can vaguely make out Sims getting loaded into the back of one of them.

And lastly a small report into the murder of Gertrude Robinson, listing Jonathan Sims as one of the suspects along with one about an older guy, who was apparently found dead in Sims office.

Jane leaned back and whispered: “What the actual fuck.”

After that the rumors spread over the campus and by the time the next lecture rolled around the whole room was buzzing with nervous energy. Sims took one look around the room and sighed: “You are probably not going to let this go in favor of learning something that will actually be useful. Correct?”

A murmur went through the crowd, they had realized that the rumors had most likely reached Sims, but they hadn’t realized he’d be so straightforward about it.

“Okay.” Sims said, “I am willing to sacrifice ten minutes of my lecture for inquiries, but I will not promise to answer.”

Then he waited. Sam was the first to raise his hand and when called upon he asked: “How did you get the scars?”

Sims thought about it, the class thought he was thinking about how to bring it delicately and thoughtful, but inside Jons mind he heard Martin laugh at him and tell him he was an idiot after Jon had told someone the round scars had come from tripping. In hindsight it hadn’t been a good excuse, so Jon decided that vague was probably the safest way to go and said: “A workplace incident.”

Without raising his hand this time Sam asked: “Did it happen during the attack on your workplace? Why would anyone even attack archives?”

“The Archives are a small place in a big organization.” Jon began to explain, ignoring the fact that the Archives had been the target, “And in the end it turned out to be an aggressive infestation, just an accident.”

“Why your institute then?” Sam asked.

“Depends on if you believe in the paranormal, but you have to excuse me, Mr. Jacobs. It seems you are not the only one with questions.” Sims replied, then he turned to the other side and said: “Yes, Ms. Hendrickson?”

“Did you murder anyone?” she asked, clapping her hand over her mouth afterwards in shame of the question that she had blurted out.

Sims didn’t react to the harsh and accusatory question, just said: “If I murdered anyone, I wouldn’t be here, but in prison, don’t you agree?” then he smiled, but somehow Jane didn’t feel comforted by it.

Jesse spoke up, causing Jane to duck into herself in the hope that she wouldn’t be noticed in her seat next to Jesse. She asked: “Then who murdered them?”

Sims huffed a breath, blowing a strand of hair out of his face in the process and answered: “That would’ve been my former boss, I have to say I’m happy to see him gone and his replacement is more than capable.” he looked at the clock and clapped his hands, making more than a few people flinch. Then he stated: “That’s enough questions, time’s up. Lets get back to the symbolism in poetry during the Renaissance.”

And so life continued with Sims as their professor. There was still something uneasy about him, like he was just a sliver off in a way you couldn’t pinpoint, but felt in your bones.

But he was actually quite nice. Which was weird in itself, since he could be pretty prickly and snappy if he found your reasoning or answer particularly stupid or ignorant and he was generally grumpy, but that changed completely if you actually had a problem and needed help. He would listen and then explain with the things you could understand, it was as if he could look at you and know what you needed to understand. That was also strange, but it was nice to have someone explain so correctly.

He was also a walking encyclopedia. He had fun fact about everything and when they said everything they meant everything. When he noticed Mary had died her hair he said: “I like your hair, did you know hair dye contains over 5.000 chemicals.”

Then when Jamie asked what kind of tea he was drinking he answered: “Lady Grey, it was created by Twinings in the early 1990s to appeal to the Nordic market, which found Earl Grey too strong.”

While discussing Oscar Wilde he commented: “Funny how important this guy is, since he has only published one novel in his life.”

When Kyra stumbled in late telling him the taxi had broken, he replied with: “Well cars have about 30.000 parts, so it isn’t far fetched that something broke.”

The funniest part about it was that it just happened to slip out it seemed. He was also just as surprised as them when something like that tumbled out of his mouth and he always covered it up with a small cough, before ignoring it had happened and moving on with his lesson.

It had become a bit of a game among students to make him say a fun fact. Sims had caught on to it, but he didn’t seem to mind all that much, his lips only tightening the littlest amount and his eyes tiring slightly.

So all in all, after two moths of lessons they felt like they knew the guy. He was nice in a grumpy way, could tear you apart verbally if he wanted to, had a lot of facts and worked part time as an archivist, which was apparently a pretty dangerous job.

Jane, Jesse and Sam had become pretty close to him, often staying after class to ask a few questions about the subject, help clean up, try to pry into his private life. The last thing never seemed to work, but it was fun to try and Sims had never let on that he minded it. He even seemed to enjoy their little chats.

Then one time after class, he suddenly looked up, frowned and stalked out of the hall. Quickly sharing glances the three followed after him, curious what had gotten his attention so suddenly.

They walked through a bunch of the main halls, then through a few quiet corridors until they were much further than hearing range, making them slightly uncomfortable. There was a kid, first year probably, barely an adult still very much baby faced, crying on the floor, knees drawn tight to his chest.

Cautiously Sims approached him and gently lowered himself to the ground. The kid looked up at him with a startled face, but Sims shushed him and gently asked: “What’s wrong?”

There was something off about the words, something compelling. The kid starts to speak, he had a slightly northern accent: “It’s all so different here with the big buildings and large crowds with loads of people everywhere, still I’m all by myself. No one want to talk to the dumbass from north, who has trouble with the tubes, you know.” he sniffled a sad chuckle, “And everything is just so overwhelming and I have no one to guide me or to talk to and I hate it. Then I saw everyone just talking about a party and I know it’s dumb, but I heard them say they were going to invite everyone and someone asked even me, but then they laughed and said of course not and I just couldn’t anymore, so I went here and I cried.”

It seemed he was finished and went back to small sniffles and silent tears. Sims gently put a hand on the kids knee and said: “Did that help?”

“Yeah,” the kid looked at him, “bit cathartic, honestly. Sorry for the trouble.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, Edward.” Sims said.

The kid didn’t seem to realize it, but the three silent watchers noticed the kid had never mentioned his name.

Sims went on: “If you like, you can come over to my lecture hall. There are a few older years there, nice people, who I’m sure will want to help you. And a cup of tea.”

Edward rubbed his eyes and said: “They wouldn’t want to talk to me, I’m a loser and I don’t want the to think I’m even more one by telling them what happened.”

“I’m sure you won’t have. They’ve been where you are.” Sims responded, there was a bit of an edge to his voice and they realized he knew they were there and he was right. Jesse had been too brash, Jane too shy and Sam too blunt, it’s what had made them flock together. It was much better now, but they all remembered those awful first weeks. Without saying a word they hurried back to Sims hall.

When he came back they were making tea and lounging around. Jesse greeted him: “Hey, Sims. Where were you suddenly off to?”

Jane pushed her slightly and said: “Don’t pry.” then she turned back, “Want a cuppa, we just put on the kettle?”

Sims smiled and said: “I’d like that, could you make one for my friend, Edward here, as well. I had forgotten I was going to meet him, he’s curious about the Minor course and I thought maybe you could tell him a bit about it. If it isn’t any trouble, of course.”

“Of course not.” Jane smiled, then gestured to a chair: “Here, come sit with us.”

Edward did and later left feeling much better with a few new friends.

Friends, who were beginning to be suspicious about their teacher. They had a lengthy discussion about his knowing stuff and his spooky vibe. But no certain conclusion could be made and they decided that the mission for this year was finding out at least one personal fact about their teacher to prove he was at least somewhat normal.

They didn’t have to wait long. Their classes had been thrown around due to an unfortunate miscommunication. So two classes were switched, causing Sims to teach on Wednesday instead of Thursday for just one week. He looked a bit pale that day, but nothing out of the ordinary. It was the season, so no one spared it a second thought. Until a larger man came through the door after a gentle knock.

He was tall, about 6ft2, and chubby with a crème sweater and jeans. His face was freckled and he wore a gentle smile like it was second nature. His hair was curly and looked very soft, he in his entirety looked soft, you know, like the kind of person you know gives good hugs the moment you see them.

Sims was the only one who didn’t seem startled by his knock, just looked at the man and frowned as he said: “Martin, what are you doing here?”

“Sorry, sorry, Jon.” the man, Martin, said apologetically, “I know you said not to come and such, but I saw you had forgotten your statement and I know how you can get without them, so I thought I’d bring them to you.”

“I was going to read it tomorrow.” Sims said, “It can wait for one day. It’s not like it used to be.”

“Yeah, I know that as well, but we agreed that a rhythm would be good for you and your body to get used to.” Martin replied, holding out a folder.

Sims grabbed the folder and sighed: “You’re probably right, annoying as that may be, but couldn’t it wait till after I was done?”

“No, I’m meeting Daisy to discuss the proper storage of a Hunt artifact and you know how Daisy can be.” he answered.

“Yeah, I know.” Sims chuckled, absentmindedly touching the scar on his neck.

“Besides, I wanted to see you.” Martin said, then he brushed a lock of hair, that had freed itself from Sims’ messy bun, behind Sims ear and pecked him on the cheek. Turning to leave immediately after calling out over his shoulder: “Read it, Jon! And don’t forget to pick up milk on the way back if you want any good tea.”

Martin opened the door and Sims smiled, like a real and soft and dopey smile, as he touched his cheek and yelled back: “I will, say hi to Daisy from me.”

Then Martin was gone and the silence that had fallen over the hall with Martins entrance was broken. Multiple people called out questions and it was a bit of a chaos. It took a few minutes to get everyone settled down again and Sims returned to his lecture as if nothing happened. Sam called out from the second row: “Really, Sims? Nothing?”

Sims shoulders sagged, he had clearly hoped he could get away with it and was sad that it hadn’t worked. He said: “Mr. Jacobs, although I appreciate your interest in my personal life, I hope that I don’t have to explain how normal it is for my husband to come bring me something I forgot at home.”

The hall exploded again, but Sims ignored it all again telling them there were more important things to talk about, for example the lecture, which will be on the exam.

For Jane, Jesse and Sam it was enough. Their teacher was weird and off, but he was nice enough and if someone as soft looking as the Martin figure was willing to marry him, then he was good enough in their opinion and not worth the detective work.

[cloveroctobers]

GENEVIEVE ALIU —

IG info/bio: @/genevealiu1 | 19k followers | currently on a journey as a junior doctor living in 🇦🇺🤎 | blm.card.co🖤 | sk💛

26 years of age

Born and raised in Glastonbury, England

Pisces sun? + libra moon?

Mother is Guyanese and works for a non-profit organization

Her father is Nigerian and works in property management

has one older brother who is a Prosthetist and resides in Nigeria with his pregnant fiancée

She can’t wait to be a auntie!!!

And a younger sister who is a medical laboratory technician

To say the least, their parents were happy that their children fell into the medical field. Based on their cultures it was a honor to have their children in these professions

Vieve grew up with a sassy demeanor and her parents have old videos on their camcorders to prove it lol, it never fails that the pair brings out the embarrassing vids during the holidays but vieve genuinely appreciates them 

Although thanksgiving is a RACIST American thing, vieve never misses the opportunity to share what she’s thankful for in life and counts all of it as blessings! But it’s still fuck the pilgrims

Has held a friendsgiving before, loves any moment where she can host gatherings or attend them! either is quite fine. She loves being around people

the only time she likes to look back on the past is to see how she and her family carried themselves then and how the evolved into who they are now, it’s interesting to see

Loves “how it started vs how it’s going” posts and might have participated in a few

Always knew from a young age that she wanted to help people in some way, she was always doing something to help around the house and especially her aging/sickly grandparents

Felt offended that many people around school that she thought were her friends would stab her in the back labeling her as this “fake saint” since she rather spend her time volunteering instead of going to house parties in hs

Don’t get it twisted, she still went to those too & had her fun but definitely felt like it was the same routine and nothing ever felt fulfilling at these functions after awhile

Well known with all the cliques around school but had her own group of friends that fit into many of those cliques but she never felt obligated to stick to one social group. If you were nice and cool with her, she was the same to you, if you weren’t? Depending on her mood, she’d ignore you/say things under her breath or be “fake nice” as a form of being the bigger person

Has a curly hair routine that she consistently follows (after struggling to find the right products to make them flourish) and gets annoyed with if her curls don’t turn out the way she knows they can, it’s always frustrating when things don’t turn out the way you want them to but isn’t afraid to at least try

Three times is the charm! Is one of her mottos

loves bright colors, flowy attire, big hats, brimmed hats, bucket hats, berets, etc...

Has faced racism/prejudices and bullying growing up in public spaces—mostly school/uni & some of those same hatred actions online now that she’s dating seb

Because of that there were times where she felt insecure but deff grew to forgive, heal, and rise above the hate, she knows her worth

Has never been happier in a relationship than she is with seb, he’s her “moody long-haired, soft-hearted bby”

they’re both complete fools for each other and vieve is more vocal about her being in love/finding her soulmate whereas seb doesn’t mind showing it rather than speaking it—even tho he’s on a podcast but we mind our business okay?!

Seb is thinking of moving to Australia with vieve, he’s ready to risk it all for this woman, HIS woman 🤩

canon: gives more than she should/taken advantage of/not reciprocating in relationships... ex) how she dated a guy that she did everything for! especially financially and also struggled to find her worth but once she did? Her aura shined brighter than before— Ik chill out there Rocco

Also believes in loving yourself first to attract what you need in this world and found that in her career and seb. I hope they’re endgame! Since they’re the only couple I rooted for this season? Except for tai & ciaran maybe? They’re probably not endgame but whatever

They still get nervous/shy around each other even tho they’ve been together for months now + are in a long distance relationship which is too cute! I think since they’re in this for the long game they can look back on moments and still feel the way they felt in that moment. You know if you get the chance or have already heard elderly people talk about their relationships and how they get all starry eyed? That’s vieve & seb, that shit gets me right in my feels ew

Vieve’s love language is quality time, it’s what she shows and likes along with acts of service from her partner

Makes the best jollof rice & her fav dish is Metemgee

Trying to be on a plant-based diet only but will have her cheat days on occasion—mostly when she’s drunk and forgets her diet plan lmao that’s me getting double cheeseburgers or anything with dairy drunk af

now living in Australia, she tried to like vegemite but...the it’s a no for her, respectfully ofc! She never wants to disrespect anyone

besides the food, the atmosphere is much nicer since she feels like she’s on a holiday almost everyday and that there’s much more to see and do when she has the time

Loves the beaches and is thinking about surfing lessons

yes she enjoys those doctor shows and can agree that most scenarios are not the same as rl ofc but great question!

Since she’s a junior doctor now, and on her way to graduation! She feels so accomplished and having this chance to complete what she’s wanted her whole life in a different place, makes her super emotional

All those stressful all-nighters will be worth it. She mostly did it on her own but is nothing but humble and Is thankful to those that have helped her along the way, what kind of person would she be if she didn’t mention them?

and when COVID hit, she was one of many already on the frontlines. Her studies became altered but this wouldn’t stop her for her mission on this earth, this was her purpose and she knew we would conquer it all—but definitely has empathy and gets angry with how it’s being handled from time to time

She’s been exposed to it first hand which aboustely worries her parents, seb, her friends, and friends from the villa

Keeps up to date when all medical news, has a whole app dedicated to health

Learning French with some of her free time and is doing well at it

It was only natural for her to become closer to elladine since their men are homies and have a podcast together

They’ve hung out a few times on a double dates before the boat vacation & once just as girls before vieve left to Australia

Vieve is always offering advice but knows that every relationship is different and what works for her and seb won’t work for elladine and Nicky, she loves them together and knows everyone has bumps in the road

feels there’s some sort of tension between her and Harry now? Which she found a little off putting since they were supposed to be friends but she realizes that Harry has a condition but it’s also not an excuse for him to treat her shitty sometimes which he does and feels like it comes out of nowhere most times but he always apologizes yet vieve is slowly getting tired of this unhealthy habits

So they’re talking less these days, which he notices!

She wants Harry to find his happiness too! If he hasn’t found it in mc first that is

has met Tim— he’s a great laugh and seems like a nice guy—they follow each other, talia and jake in person when she was out with seb—they were also super nice and congratulated them on their win, she went up to miles once on a night out—he’s still a arsehole, priya reached out to her via dm about her new boutique that she wanted her to model in someday, Hope was just as stunning in person along with Siobhan, Chelsea & mc s2 were also kind, and a couple of the guys also wished her and seb well

She’s also noticed some of the shit talking coming from Elisa, Allegra, Lucy, and mc s1 (subtle shade from mc, basically about how vieve reacted if mc decided to give Harry a go but that was only brought to her attention thru fans) online but again, vieve peeped it and felt majority of it didn’t require a response. She was too happy in life rn and she had a man and they don’t

Plans to get a komondor, thinks they’re super cute! — seb does not “if you love me, you’ll love our child.” “It’s a bloody mop dog! And I’m a cat dad, you know that!” “Don’t talk about him like that, he’s got feelings just like your cat babies!”

I feel like she’s a matcha & Frappuccino lover, tries to keep her drinks simple and feels guilty when she has to make adjustments but the heart wants what it wants

Mini Countryman owner, she also drives like a “granny” better safe than sorry! She hates fast drivers, there’s absolutely no need for it!

Minimal makeup: eyeshadow, moisturizer, & a nude lip and she’s good to go

Secretly obsessed with among us, second life, and SIMS!!!

Celeb crushes? Heath ledger, Tyler posey, KENDRICK SAMPSON, Jordan fisher, Algee smith, Donald Glover, Mack Wilds, Khleo Thomas, Robert Ri’chard, Tahj Mowry, & Hasan Minhaj

Listens to: DaniLeigh, ABIR, Mary J. Blige, TORI KELLY, Us the duo, 11:11, Jacob Latimore, fifth harmony, joya mooi, & Greentea Peng, etc...

Anthem: The Cheetah Girls — Cinderella

[morningflames]

a word of warning

well here’s a post i never thought i’d be making

it’s come to my attention that a Certain Someone is planning on making a comeback to WrA soon and it fills me with nothing short of dread. i spent the day yesterday warning people he terrorized and manipulated that this was happening. you know it’s bad when there’s a literal network of people who share an abuser that have remained in contact for years in the event this happened again.

i am not going to lie and say that making this post does not terrify me but i cannot in good conscience sit back and let him worm his way into the rp scene again and do what he did to me and at least half a dozen others all over again.

to summarize: tarcanus aka tarcanus frostborne is a manipulative, emotionally abusive and predatory individual that should be avoided at all costs.

i am the player behind lyrinel, a former officer of his and someone who was on the receiving end of nearly a years worth of abuse and manipulation. my experiences pale in comparison to those of others who dealt with him and came forward to me after i left his guild, and i cannot speak for anyone who does not feel comfortable coming forward. if you do want to let your voice be heard, feel free to reblog and add your own anecdotes.

my story below the cut.

tw: manipulation, emotional abuse, gaslighting, coercion, grooming

i first joined coram populo in early 2014 after my best friend and fellow survivor (i will refer to her by her character’s name of thradia from here on out) joined the raid team in december of the previous year. we were both just looking for a social place to park our characters and maybe start role playing again, as we hadn’t had a guild or dedicated rp group in a while. things were fine and friendly for the first couple of months, though it’s worth noting that a large part of the office corps had just left or was in the process of leaving when thradia and i joined. we were both 18 at the time.

i made the mistake of reaching out to tarc in the spring, when i noticed him posting to his tumblr about how busy he was. i offered to be an IC assistant of sorts to his character and he was more than happy to toss me into an absolute whirlwind. we still didn’t know much about each other, but in the span of a couple weeks we went from casual contact in guild chat to immensely long (sometimes between 10 and 12 hours) skype calls, constant DMing, and an almost uninterrupted stream of conversation. i was struggling to finish high school at this time (spoiler: i failed to graduate) and found myself suddenly caught in an all-consuming relationship with this man and his guild. from the moment i woke up to the moment i finally hung up and crawled into bed, my time was taken up by tarc and the guild and the game.

i was promoted to officer less than five months after joining the guild. this was overwhelming for a number of reasons, chief among them being the fact that i had never been an officer in a guild like this before and i was very quickly escalated to tarc’s “inner circle.” this was a circle that he evidently didn’t even include his most senior officers in, as he didn’t seem to communicate with them to the extent or abundance that he did with me - and later, when she was ALSO promoted to officer, thradia. 

within a few weeks i found myself at the center of dozens of micro-confrontations and venting from tarc about other members of the guild, raid team, and even fellow officers. every time, i would tell him he needed to take it to his co-gm and talk it through with her. she, like him, was a grown woman with a lot more experience and better people skills than me, a teenager barely out of high school, but tarc insisted on beating me over the head with his frustrations and then proceeding to guilt me and tell me i was a terrible friend when i didn’t agree with him or expressed i was uncomfortable being in the center of a vent session that i felt was unwarranted. 

tarc was never wrong. he did not apologize. the words “i’m sorry” did not exist in his vocabulary, and if they did, they were almost always followed up with the word “but.” constantly he would be sending multiple messages to me or thradia while we were running events and raids for the guild, ranting about a few particular members that he disliked at the time regardless of how we felt about said members. thradia and i would both be reduced to tears and/or anxiety attacks by his outbursts that all but demanded we take his side even if we didn’t. his feelings and circumstances were paramount. everyone else’s were just inconveniences. 

tarc was always the victim. no matter what was going on, no matter who had instigated whatever vein of conversation we were on that had gone awry, he had a way of making you feel like utter shit until you grovelled for his forgiveness, which he rarely gave. instead he would move on without giving any closure or allowing you to discuss your feelings at length. if you tried, you were the insensitive one who he couldn’t go to with his “unfiltered emotions,” which was the entire purpose of his inner circle to hear him say it. i was not allowed to just be his friend or just be an officer, i had to be both and neither at the same time, and it still was not the right course of action. nothing ever was.

tarc was openly manipulative and antagonistic, always citing it as an “inside joke” when called on it. i opened up to him once about my father’s alcoholism and how i was uncomfortable with alcohol culture and being around drunk people. regardless, he would constantly call while drunk (or maybe he was pretending to be to get a rise out of me, i honestly do not know what was genuine and what was put on with him) and make me stay on the call with him for hours. when he was (allegedly) diagnosed with an inability to process certain alcohols that could be life threatening, he continued to drink (or claimed he was drinking) dangerous amounts, which lead to me begging him to stop as i feared for his life. one of the worst anxiety attacks i have ever had was over him endangering his health and me believing i was going to see a friend die. he knew how much this upset me and he did not stop. he held me as a captive audience to his self destruction (or the playacting of it) and let me cry and beg and plead with him to take care of himself.

tarc loves to promote a clean, “family friendly” persona online. he will go on and on about the positive atmosphere his guild provides and how progress and accepting he and his “safe spaces” are. as soon as you are inducted to his inner circle, however, you learn otherwise. he will gladly engage in sexually charged conversation with you, even if you are ten years younger than him as thradia and i were. we were both legal adults, yes, but just barely. i can’t count the inappropriate remarks and jokes made about us, our friends, and even minors all in the spirit of joking “what if” conversation. he has a history of making young LGBT+ people uncomfortable, making their sexualities and identities about him and how he can relate to them. 

tarc was the most two-faced and divisive guild leader i’ve ever seen. he would rant to me mercilessly about wanting to kick one of the junior officers and raid team members in private while never saying a word to their face or bringing it up with the co-gm. he would start schisms between people, telling each what they wanted to hear and encouraging both parties not to confront each other about it, allowing the resentment and distrust to grow as he fanned the flames on both sides. he wanted people to stay in the guild and continue to basically work for him while also putting him above anyone else in their friend circles. he told straight up lies to thradia and i, claiming one of us had said things about the other that we never did, driving a wedge and distrust between us.

tarc treats his guild(s) like a business. he is entirely capitalist-minded even in an MMORPG that people play for fun, churning out “content” and keeping up appearances like a machine. he treats his officers and guild members like employees, not people. any time irl would demand attention away from the game, forcing someone to miss or cancel an event, he would subtly guilt them about it until they apologized, even if it was a dire situation or a family emergency. 

when tarc wanted to start a wow roleplaying podcast, he approached me about cohosting. he wanted a female voice, and since i was out of school and had no job lined up due to not graduating i was the perfect candidate. i came on to narrate and research the lore segment of the looking for roleplay podcast, which was little more than me paraphrasing a wowwiki article, but i was held to a “professional” standard. i had to have my research done by a certain day, my recording done in advance, etc. 

the podcast was a spot of contention for several reasons, one being the mysterious emails tarc would allegedly receive about it. the podcast had a shared email account that all three of us could access and look at, but tarc claimed that people sent emails directly to him since “everything’s under his email.” he would use these strawman emails as indirect criticism of turwinkle and i, reading them aloud or typing up what they supposedly said but NEVER producing a real screenshot or address to verify them. i’m convinced he only did this as a way to make turwinkle and i feel badly and work harder “for the listeners” to appease things tarc didn’t like about our segments. he also insinuated he got inappropriate emails about me specifically at this account but, again, i was never allowed to see them with my own eyes, just hear about them secondhand, which is why i believe they did not exist.

around this time, tarc began recording conversations without mine or thradias consent. he would start recording random sections of calls and taunt us, playing back out-of-context lines and joking that he would make “podcast commercials” out of them. they were often embarrassing, personal, or just wildly out of context lines that we didn’t want played to the public, and i heard only a fraction of what he possibly recorded of me. i have no idea what kind of material he has of me and thradia that was recorded without us knowing or consenting. it felt like blackmail. it still does.

i internalized all of this. i thought this was normal. i thought he was an excellent guild leader and a role model for leadership. i had begun to treat world of fucking warcraft like a goddamn job and i thought that was fine. my life revolved around coddling and entertaining him, socializing and promoting and recruiting for the guild, raiding, running pvp entirely on my own, keeping up IC connections and attending events, recording for the podcast, all of it. i ate, breathed, and slept wow and coram. it was insane. i had been talked into having no boundaries for myself and my time, and any time i tried to correct that and build a boundary i was attacked for it until i backed down. i have never felt worse about myself than i did while i was in this guild. i trusted no one. i was worn thin.

i finally had enough early 2015. at this point this man was trying to get me to come live with him hundreds of miles from my family so that i could attend a technical school in his area. i am still 18. he was 28. i had been trying to step down from my position as an officer, citing if i was going to be LIVING WITH HIM that it was going to give me an unfair bias in my standing in the guild. this set him all the way off. he was planning a trip to atlantic city for me, himself, and thradia, who i had a ticket to visit for my birthday. he was getting frantic because he had been pursuing thradia for months, and i was no longer cooperating. 

when i threw this wrench in everything, our relationship devolved in the span of a few hours. within the day i left the guild on all of my characters and pulled myself out of all of his projects. within the month i had frantically faction changed several characters and eventually unsubscribed from the game for two years because i lived in fear of him. he had always alluded to “knowing people” who could hack and track IP addresses and kept tabs on everyone who visited his blogs and websites. i didn’t know what i thought he was going to do - all i knew was his thinly veiled brags and threats were at the forefront of my mind. i have played this game since 2006, but for the first time in my life i couldn’t enjoy it out of fear and exhaustion caused by him. he had ruined my favorite game in less than a year and made me paranoid about my entire online presence, to the point where this blog was abandoned for months before i turned it into what it is today. 

and the thing is, tarc’s not a creepy or abrasive guy when you first meet him. he’s funny and charismatic and outgoing. he loves to tell you about his world travels and show you pictures of him petting baby tigers at rescues in southeast asia and go on about these crazy winnings he would have in vegas. he’s larger than life - at least online. he came to visit me twice in the year that we knew each other. the first time was also the first time i had ever met thradia in person, and we had been friends for six years at that point. he has met my family, and that of several other members (both my age and older). no one ever questions why he’s there. no one ever thought it was odd that for a week he hung out with three teenage girls exclusively. 

this horrifies me to this day. 

thradia and i are still best friends. we compared notes and were sickened at how we were played against each other. slowly, i returned to the game. i reached out to people who had left or been on their way out when i first joined the guild, curious to see if there was a common thread. there was. everyone i spoke with had similar stories: being made to feel like shit, nothing they ever did for the guild was enough, they weren’t allowed to miss events or raids no matter what the reason, they were questioned and joked about inappropriately and made to feel uncomfortable and preyed upon, etc. i was not the only one. thradia was not the only one. at least half a dozen other former members and/or officers had these stories, and tarc just kept getting away with it.

he cannot keep getting away with it.

i am being open with this for the first time in six years because i don’t want to see it happen again. because i don’t want to know that, had i said something sooner, more people could have been protected. i was 18 when this was going on. i had no real world experience. i had no standard for how i should be treated, much less by someone almost ten years my senior and who claimed to be my friend. but he knew better. he should have had boundaries and space and lines he refused to cross. he did not. he crippled my trust in people for a very long time. i have only become comfortable playing wow on horde side again in the past year or so. i finally stopped looking over my shoulder, /who’ing him and his guild, avoiding rp hubs. but now i feel like i can’t do that anymore. the safety i have worked so hard to achieve for myself is now threatened.

i understand my experiences are mild in comparison to what some offenders on this server have done. but at the end of the day, this year was the worst year of my life. to this day, the skype ringtone literally triggers me because i associated it with him and his endless calls that i never knew what to expect from or how to get out of. i can’t look at certain parts of the game without feeling fear. for months i held my breath going online or logging into wow because i was waiting for him to pop up and start accusing me of things or trying to guilt me into coming back.

tarc ran coram populo, a guild that, as far as i know, still staggers along with a few members who can’t be bothered to leave. whether or not he’s planning to return there, i don’t know. he organizes and runs (from what i can tell) the azerothian trade federation (whatever the fuck that is). i don’t know what his plans are. i don’t know what his online presence looks or will look like when he comes crawling back. but i beseech you, do not give him the time of day. do not give him a platform, no matter how nice and “woke” he makes himself out to be. he lures you in with humanist ideals and then sucks the absolute life out of you- and that’s if he doesn’t want to pressure you into a relationship on top of it.

to tarc: if somehow you’re reading this, stay away from me. keep my name out of your mouth. i do not want an apology and a string of half-assed, gaslighting excuses. i have records of past conversations. i have screenshots. i know what you fucking did to me and to my friends. i do not want you back. i do not want you here. i do not want to share space with you. i want you to go away and never come back. 

you alone made it so hard to trust myself and other people. thradia and i both have had to seek therapy due to you. and now, you have the audacity to come riding back into the scene on a white horse, being self righteous about abuse and predatory behavior online, and have the utter gall to condemn behaviors you yourself emulated without apology or second thought. i know you think you’re a good guy. that’s what makes you so fucking dangerous. you genuinely don’t think you’ve done anything wrong, and if you do, you’ve buried it and squirreled it away and have covered it up to the point where you can turn any accusation back on the claimant. 

do not attempt to contact me. do not try to threaten or appease me. go back where you were. i am finally at home again, and you will not take that from me. go. away.

[regrettablewritings]

How They Spend the Quarantine (Tadashi Hamada, Lucifer Morningstar, Dewey Finn, Wade Wilson, Harley Quinn, & Benoit Blanc)

Just a fun (?? is that even responsible to say?) little thing I’ve been thinking about while slogging through this neverending hellscape of an extended lockdown.

Tadashi Hamada

When San Fransokyo was ordered to go into a lockdown, there were mixed feelings.

At first, Tadashi had a hint of optimism that this would mean more time to work on his prospective projects . . . But then he quickly realized that his projects mostly required tools and space offered by the campus. He could technically make do at home, but it wouldn’t quite be the same considering the garage was considered Hiro’s space.

Somberly had to clean out his lab and take whatever he could home.

Cue the rest of the group (sans Fred and Hiro) griping that at least his style of science could travel well enough to be somewhat continued off of university grounds.

Helps do delivery for The Lucky Cat. It helps him get out the house, and it’s simply helpful altogether.

Uses Baymax frequently to make sure everyone down to Mochi is sanitized, and nobody’s running a fever.

Nearly as frequent a sanitizer as Aunt Cass.

He starts most days prepared to be productive, only to stop and poke fun at Hiro, who’s almost always got his eyes trained on a video game.

Tadashi realizes three hours later that he, too, has been playing the game as Player 2.

Learned how to make facial masks with Aunt Cass. He already knew how to sew a little but frankly, making the masks made him realize he could have a new hobby on his hands. He’s currently trying to figure out how to make Mochi a little vest . . .

Lucifer Morningstar

B o r e d. A s. F u c k.

At first, he thinks everyone being forced to go home would work in his favor -- surely some rule-breakers would sneak out and try to bunk up with the Devil, right?

Well . . . Kinda? Once Chloe found out and scolded him about it, the idea died real fast. Plus, he realized he wasn’t quite fond of the possibility of being around someone who could pop up with a disgusting human sickness at any point during their time with him. Smearing their snot all over, coughing into his Egyptian cotton sheets . . . Nope, never mind, he is perfectly content having the penthouse to himself, thank you very much!

Except he’s not.

The poor bastard is going crazy by himself -- he’s just not used to being without some kind of company!

“At least in Hell, you could tell there were people around you based on the screaming!” he’d whine at his phone during his hourly video chat with Chloe.

Oh yes: The video chats. He tries to make them hourly with anyone he can get a hold of (namely, his long-suffering detective) but this clearly never plays out as he would like for it to: If he had it his way, everyone would respond in an instant and let him bounce mainly one-sided conversations off of them -- basically, what he did before all this went down.

What usually winds up happening is he gets hung up on or nobody answers him at all out of sheer annoyance over his clinginess.

Ironically, he’s not exactly crazy about when Amenadiel initiates those “family calls”. He insists it’s healthy and normal for them to do this and even calls Luci out on the hypocrisy, but let’s face it: Lucifer finds it obnoxiously gushy and weird.

He works his way into Linda’s video appointment books to help him cope with his boredom and admitted need for interactions. She doesn’t mind offering him counsel, but once Lucifer starts attempting to butt in during others’ appointment calls, it becomes an issue.

Has, at some point, gotten buzzed down in Lux and streamed himself attempting to pole dance. It drew quite a bit of attention.

He’s managed to gain a bit of a following and some companionship by streaming himself playing piano and singing. It’s not the same thing as having an actual audience, in his opinion, but it will have to do for now.

He’s never been one to binge with regards to TV shows or movies, but after the first week, he decided to binge watch every work action star Wesley Cabot was ever in.

Makes sure his staff still gets paid well. After all, he’s pretty well-off; there’s no need to make an innocent bartender’s life a living hell just because some other rich bastard fucked up, yeah?

Going off this, should he need to order to-go or anything, we already know he tends to tip as handsomely as he looks.

Dewey Finn

Kids were being sent to Horace Green on tuitions worth more than what some people saw in half a year -- of course the school was going to continue classes online!

While technically an afterschool instructor, the program is popular enough for parents to expect it to continue, and for Dewey to be kept on payroll.

Initially, he was pretty smug: He’s one if, if not, the youngest teacher-figure at Horace Green, so surely that means he’s more tech savvy than his older, stiffer coworkers, right? For once, he’s ahead of the curve!

Wrong: Figuring out Zoom was a headache, and then there was the realization of just how dependent his classes were on actual physical presence.

Plus, let’s be real: Dewey’s Internet connection was decent on its own, but craptastic when compared to those of his wealthier students. The lag is strong with this one.

Has definitely accidentally messed up the background on his screen. Somehow wound up with the Beetlejuice background and got so frustrated, he wound up keeping it there for two whole sessions.

In spite of the slight issues regarding lag, they pull through and try to resume lessons as best they can.

Tries to keep optimism by pointing out how this is a new form of entertainment they could be pioneers in.

Some days, it’s just going so wack or everyone’s so bleh that Dewey just assigns for them to watch a music documentary or something.

“Okay, kids, Mr. Finn’s hungover and clearly Summer is the only one who went to bed before 3am. So what I’m gonna have you do is watch . . . Prrrbbbb . . . Amadeus.” “How is Amadeus rock-related?” “It had a rock single, shut up. Anyway, we meet back next class and talk about what we saw, m’kay? M’kay. Over and out.”

Next class, he’s filled with dread as Summer produces an in-depth analysis of the relationship or lack thereof between character and the presence of talent as evidenced by Mozart’s abilities juxtaposed with his immature presentation and -- Dewey just can’t keep up. Sure, Summer, why not?

When he’s not busy teaching, however, he’s using the lockdown to work on some new material. Or just screwing around.

Otherwise, let’s be real, Big Boy’s living the high life in a place of his own: Playing video games (Animal Crossing, recently got back into Team Fortress 2, is trying to finally finish Ocarina of Time); eating a not very great diet; staying up late, napping at weird times; all in the name of quarantine.

If he orders delivery or to-go, he tips the best he can.

Wade Wilson

On one hand, murking never goes on lockdown. But on the other . . . He’s already technically not well, why risk that even with his mutation?

Oh, fuck I just remembered he lives at the X Mansion, never mind turn back turn back oh god give us free --

The situation is tense to say the least. There’s Wade, who’s sensible enough to know why the quarantine is in place . . . and then there’s everyone else, who knows Wade’s full of shit.

And by everyone, I “coincidentally” mean Colossus, Nega Sonic, Yukio, Domino, Cable, and Russ because the already small world of the sequel just got smaller by the fact that everyone is bound to a large but nonetheless single estate whose size has probably decreased from that of the First Class timeline.

You know those videos of the usual Quarantine Characters? Wade is somehow yet still unsurprisingly all of them, save for the frequent sanitizer. He raids the pantry frequently, sleeps at all hours, considers scooting a swivel chair down the halls exercise for the thighs, blasts video games, and so on.

Going back to the sanitizer thing, it’s not that he’s just not exactly known for being tidy. Colossus occasionally does drag him out of bed at a decidedly decent time (read: any time before 11am) to try and get him excited about cleaning up around the mansion, but it rarely ends well. At this point, the safest option is to just remind Wade to wash his hands for 20 seconds as necessary.

Has acquired a Switch and visits everyone’s island, often to bonk them on the head with a net or gift them with weird crap they don’t necessarily want. For the “friends” from Sister Margaret’s, he has somehow acquired their Dodo Codes. Nobody knows how he did this. 

Facetimes Dopinder frequently.

“Precious, you’re the beacon of light in this cold, cruel world.” “I miss you, too, DP --” “Sshshsh! I’m having a moment . . .” *weeps*

On the many occasions he orders delivery, he tips by giving the delivery person something expensive from the mansion that they can sell. Prof. X is loaded, after all. Plus, he more or less isn’t even present in this universe, it’s not like he’s gonna miss anything he can’t see/probably doesn’t even know exists in his house. The problem is, Colossus does exist and does notice and does care when things go missing. Leading to many a delivery person getting caught up in shenanigans at that weird school in the boonies that they either don’t get paid enough to deal with or couldn’t pay to make up.

“Oh, pawn shops are closed?” asks the man who looks like a skinned avocado if avocados had human skin. “Don’t worry, lemme hook you up -- I know some guys --” “DEADPOOOOOLLL!!” roars a Russian accent from inside the house. “WHERE IS THE BRONZE BUST OF THE PROFESSOR!?” The poor delivery person’s eyes widen as they realize that the odd cargo they’ve been presented with apparently holds some value of some kind. But before they can flee, the avocado man blurts, “Shit! Leave the pizza in the bushes, look me up on my Youtube page, byyyeeee!!”

In his defense, Wade does hold up his end of the deal. Much like the Dodo Codes, nobody knows what strings he pulled. They just accept it and move on.

Harley Quinn

Surprisingly compliant.

She’s crazy, not stupid: Staying at home may suck, but what sucks more is making things harder on people who may not fair so well. Besides, she’s spent time in a maximum security prison -- she can handle staying cooped up in her own home. At least home has TV, books, and snacks.

When she hears people are still going out without masks or plotting to have a protest, she strongly considers firing up the old Fun Gun and popping the next sign-carrying Karen she sees with a tit full of cadmium yellow powder.

Seriously, stay the fuck home and fuck up your own hair; this is the perfect time to make mistakes with your looks, it ain’t like you got anywhere to be or anyone to impress.

“STAY THE FUCK HOME, BITCH!” P O W!!! “JUST GO GREY ALREADY, WE ALL KNOW YOUR HAIR AIN’T THAT COLOR ANYMORE, YOU’RE THREE YEARS FROM BEING IN THE GODDAMN AGE-BRACKET!!!” P O W!!!!

Only leaves her new apartment to grab groceries and to take Bruce on a walk. She actually refuses to steal or cause a scene during this shitshow because she may be a bad guy, but she sure ain’t evil.

So far, there haven’t been complaints about the fact that she’s walking a hyena down a public street. Maybe it’s because there’s hardly anyone out? Maybe it’s because Gothamites just can’t be bothered to be fazed by it . . . Or maybe it’s because she made him a little mask for his snout.

“In this house, we wash our hands for at least 20 seconds, kid.”

Lets the forest reclaim the earth, so to speak. She was never really shaving anything for anyone but herself before, but now it just seems especially pointless.

Spends almost every day in a kigurumi. To give her a semblance of routine, she has a pink bear one she calls her “Sunday Suit.” She doesn’t know it’s not Sunday because the days just blur but Cass just doesn’t have the heart to tell her; she seemed so proud of herself . . .

Like everyone else, she’s gotten Animal Crossing. She’s trying to create an all-preppy island with a few exceptions (Astrid = Aesthetic, m’kay?)

Tips nicely when ordering delivery.

Benoit Blanc

As young and spry in nature as the gentleman sleuth would like to think of himself, he would really rather not test the dangers of the situation and go about all foolhardy -- he’s staying home!

In theory, it’s only logical and therefore perfectly fine. But in practice . . . God, he wishes he’d invested more in things to occupy himself with when home.

It wasn’t that Benoit was never home, he just never felt too much of a need to invest in a fancy entertainment center -- the fanciest he ever got was an iHome.

The beginning of the quarantine served as the perfect time for him to read over case files, catch up on paperwork, even catch up on some reading he’d been putting on hold since God knows when due to cases popping up left and right. But that dried up quicker than he’d assumed, and that’s when he was faced with what a man of his mind dreads the most: Boredom.

Finally caved and decided to hook up Amazon Fire.

Expected to use the one-month free trial on Netflix and be just fine but once the lockdown in his area got extended and he realized he wasn’t going to be able to catch up with Crazy Ex-Girlfriend at this rate, he caves even further and buys a subscription.

Fully delights at the influx of platforms uploading Broadway recordings; when The Show Must Go On put on Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, followed by The Phantom of The Opera, it was a treat, I tell you!

Sanitizes often, despite hardly ever leaving his house besides to have a smoke or to go grab groceries. Honestly, it’s less about cleaning at this point so much as it is finding something to occupy his focus when he feels there’s nothing else to so.

Takes zinc after every meal to help lessen the intensity of any ailment that might hit him.

Definitely owns a facemask. There’s a good chance it’s from Marta or one of his relatives, and there’s another good chance the pattern is as flamboyant as his clothing. He’s delighted.

Benoit tries not to rely too much on delivery,  as he’d much rather just cook. On the rare occasion where tipping comes up, however, he gives as generously as he can.

Bonus: There’s a slight chance he might have acquired a companion to foster early on in the quarantine. Benoit hadn’t had a pet since childhood, a crime of which he was admittedly melancholic of his own involvement. However, his surprisingly busy lifestyle just wouldn’t suit a four-legged friend, now could it?

Well, now there’s time to. Besides, it would certainly ease the potential feeling of loneliness to have someone or something with whom he could interact with.

Admittedly, when shelters began encouraging people to invest time in taking home a companion, he’d been looking more for a comrade on the canine side of the spectrum -- but darn, if Duke wasn’t a handsome cat.

A lovely grey-and-white cat with eyes that matched his own, Duke has become the one Benoit monologues to (because in all honesty, the man is a performer at heart, in need of an audience to speak his mind to and portray a thought before). Plus, he doesn’t appear to mind it when Benoit finds himself belting out in tone-deaf notes to showtunes while washing the dishes: The mark of a true companion.

At this rate, he’s probably not going to keep fostering Duke when things calm down -- he’s probably going to just straight up adopt him.

Stay safe & healthy!

[booksarelife-stuff]

The Story of Us- Chapter 2

Jily (James Potter/ Lily Evans), minor wolfstar

Word Count: 

Modern Muggle AU. When Lily Evans meets the man across the hall due to a fire alarm, she has no idea that a new chapter of her life has begun. Featuring a librarian Lily and sports journalist James.

Masterlist     Read on AO3  Chapter 3

Chapter 2- and the sparks fly...

Lily had found her love of libraries in secondary school. She remembers one day, specifically that started it all. 

Petunia, Lily’s tight-lipped older sister, had gotten all her friends to make fun of her in front of everyone. Lily didn’t remember what it was that day that the gaggle of girls had decided to torment Lily on. It could have been just a simple “freak” thrown her way in the hallway. 

What Lily does remember though, is finding solace in the library. She remembers running in there, looking for a private place to cry. She had sat in the back, near the reference section that was barely touched since the age of the internet. She started doing her homework there and more importantly started realizing that escaping into books was easier when she was surrounded by them. 

The library Lily now called home was an old building, untouched by the modern buildings surrounding it. It was made of stone and when you walked in, you were greeted by the musky scent of old books. 

This library had also brought more than a safe place in her adult life, but friends as well. Remus Lupin was the overseer of the adult non-fiction and reference section. Lily was convinced that man was Google. She could ask him anything about anything he’d probably have an answer. Then there was the children’s librarian from downstairs, Marlene McKinnon. Marlene was vibrant and offered great critiques of all the new teen show adaptations of young adult novels. 

Lily had finally found a home for herself. 

Lily was sitting at the circulation desk, waiting for patrons. Remus was running a workshop for homeless members of the community to get jobs and they had had a nice turn out. Lily had spent all night packing lunches for them and was yawning every five seconds. 

She was tired and she didn’t notice the man who stepped up to the desk. 

“Hey Lily,” a deep voice said. Lily’s throat filled with bile. 

She looked up to see Severus Snape, a barista from across the street at the Starbucks. Also, her sort-of-ex. 

Lily looked up and gave her customer service a smile. 

“Hello Severus,” she said. “Did you find everything you needed?” 

“Yes, I did,” he drawled. 

“Great,” she said. She reached out for his book and library card. She tried not to make a face at the book he was checking out, something about government conspiracies, and scanned his card. Lily should have been surprised that he was even here at all, especially since Lily had to deal with a lot of talks that revolved around the internet making libraries useless from him. But he showed up, like clockwork. 

“You have a late fee,” she said. “It’s only a pound.” 

Lily checked out his book while he pulled out his wallet. She marked the fee as paid as he slid the pound over the desk. Lily handed him his card and book back. 

“Due in two weeks. Have a great day,” she said, smiling. 

“I was wondering if we could talk for a second,” he asked. Lily looked up into his deep brown eyes. She really didn’t want to, but she couldn’t think of an excuse, as there weren't any other patrons. 

“About what, Severus?” she asked. 

“Have you changed your mind yet?” he asked. 

Lily mentally counted down from five in her head, trying to bite back the anger that flared inside of her. That was the thing with Severus. To him, he never did anything wrong and it was Lily that was holding the relationship back.

“No, afraid not,” she said, her tone coming out sharp. Severus’s nostrils flared a bit. 

“That’s unfortunate,” he said. 

“Is it?” she quipped. 

His eyes flashed but the door swung open, stopping whatever he was about to say. Lily’s flickered to the new patron but did a double-take. 

Standing there was James, Lily’s neighbor. He was wearing a white button up with a red tie and black slacks. The sleeves were rolled up, showing his arms again and the tie hung loosely from his neck. He had a black messenger bag hanging from his shoulder. 

He gave Lily a small and a wave. He stood behind Severus, waiting in line. Severus looked pissed off as Lily’s eyes turned back to him. 

“Is that all you need, sir?” Lily asked. 

“Yes,” Severus spat. He grabbed his book and turned sharply. He walked out of the door. 

Lily smiled widely as James stepped up to the counter. 

“Hey neighbor,” James said, running a hand through his already messy hair. 

“Hey. What brings you to the library?” she asked.

“I heard that books contain knowledge and I need a specific kind,” he said. “And a library card.”

“Let’s get you a card first,” she said. 

She learned James’s full name was James Fleamont Potter. She tried not to make a face at his middle name but James responded with a quick “yeah I know.” She learned his birthday was March 27 and that she was older than him by a few months. 

She handed him his card and a little flyer that had instructions about their app that would let him browse their online collection and place holds on books they had on the shelves. 

“So, what specific knowledge would you be needing today?” she asked. 

“Ah well, remember the professional bowling team I mentioned?” 

“The Cannons?”

“That would be it,” he said. “I need books on bowling. I know most of the rules of football and rugby, but I seem to be lacking some expertise on the intricacies of bowling.”

Lily laughed and started typing in their system. 

“And you couldn’t Google that?” 

James did a dramatic gasp that made Lily look up at him. 

“Did a librarian just say I should Google something? That’s a sort of sacrilege,” James said, his hazel eyes wide with fake horror. 

Lily laughed and turned back to her computer screen. She told him the number of the Dewey he could use to find books on bowling and he blinked at her. 

“Let me guess,” she said. “Unfamiliar with the system?”

“Yeah. And this library,” he said. 

Lily motioned for him to follow her. If Remus was available, he’d be able to go directly to the space on the shelf that contained books about bowling. It took Lily a minute to find them. She left James to browse and went back to the desk to find Marlene sitting at Lily’s portion of the desk.

“Hey Lil,” she said, stopping her spinning in her chair. 

“Hey Marls,” she said. 

“I’m on break,” she said, tossing her thick blonde hair over her shoulder. “I also have a story.”

“Do tell,” Lily said, taking her seat at the computer. 

“A girl came in with her mother looking for a book,” she began, her blues eyes turning animated. “And I would have guess she was looking for the latest John Green or something, but this girl walks up to the desk and asks point-blank ‘Do you have Gone Girl?’”

Marlene took a dramatic inhale while Lily started smiling. 

“She had to be no older than thirteen! And she wanted ‘Gone Girl!’” she exclaimed. 

“Please tell me you didn’t let her check out ‘Gone Girl’?” Lily asked. 

“Well, we aren’t in the business of judging are we?” Marlene said. “Our physical copy is checked out but I showed her how she could read it through our app.”

Lily laughed. 

“Isn’t that book the one where the wife fakes her death?” James asked. Lily spun around to see James leaning against the counter, two books sitting in front of him. 

“It is,” Marlene answered. She got up and stood next to Lily at the circulation desk. “Have you read it?”

Lily rolled her eyes as she scanned James’s card. Marlene would flirt with anything that moved, even though she had a lovely girlfriend waiting at home for her. 

“I haven’t but my brother made me watch the movie,” James replied. “I really enjoyed it.”

Marlene hummed as Lily checked out the books to James. He had gotten two books, one about the theory of bowling, which Lily didn’t think was a thing, and one of different techniques and rules. 

“Here you are,” Lily said, sliding the books back. “Please take a bookmark or two!”

“Yes please,” Marlene said. “Please don’t dog ear the pages.”

“Will do,” James said, picking up a colorful bookmark. “See you around, Lily.”

He gave her a small before turning away and walking out the door. Once he was gone, Marlene lightly hit Lily’s arm. 

“He was totally flirting with you!”

“He was not,” Lily said, though she hadn’t really thought about it to determine if he was or not. 

“‘See you around, Lily,’” Marlene quoted, her eyebrows high on her forehead. 

“He’s my neighbor.”

Marlene widened her eyes even more. 

“Since when did you get a hot neighbor? What about the old man?”

“James moved in a few weeks ago,” Lily replied. “He was the guy who brought his cat out during the fire alarm.”

Marlene started laughing. Lily had mentioned him when she saw Remus and Marlene the next day, but just focused on the cat. She didn’t tell them about their conversation. 

“Well,” Marlene said. “I need to go back. But we aren’t dropping this James conversation.”

“There really isn’t much to be said,” Lily said as Marlene started towards the stairs. She turned before she headed down giving Lily a look. 

“Then there needs to be,” she said. “He is ten steps up from Severus and I think you need to jump on that quickly.”

~~~

Lily waved at the security officer at the desk as she passed. Moody was scary looking fellow, but once Lily brought him sweets, he softened up to her. He always guarded her packages. 

She quickly got her mail and got in the elevator with a nice old woman from the third floor. The ride was silent and once Lily made it to her apartment she collapsed on her couch, throwing her bag on the floor and the mail on her coffee table. The afternoon had gotten busy for her, as the after work crowd had come in around five. Not that she was going to complain that so many people were still using the library. 

She debated ordering take-out, not feeling up to cooking but she couldn’t decide on what sounded best. She sat up and picked up her mail. It was mostly junk but she found a handwritten letter. She looked quickly at the name and realized it wasn’t hers, but was addressed to James from a Euphemia Potter. 

Lily sighed and slipped her flats back on. She didn’t know if James was home yet, but she figured she’d at least try before she forgot. She left her door open as she made her strides to his apartment door and knocked three times. 

“One sec!” she heard James call. She waited as she heard the thump of his footsteps get closer to the door. 

He opened it, smiling. He had already changed out of his work clothes and was wearing a shirt that was old and faded and his sweatpants. 

“Lily,” he said. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

Lily held out the piece of mail, returning his smile.

“This was in my box,” she said. He looked down at the letter as he took it from her, his glasses low on his nose. 

“Oh bugger,” he said. “Sorry about that. My mum seems to have put the wrong number. I’ll call and let her know she doesn’t do it again.”

“It’s not a problem,” she said. “I figured you would want a handwritten letter sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah. Mum’s a bit old fashioned,” James said, smiling. He leaned against the doorframe, his hazel eyes looking directly at Lily.

“Well, I’ll see you around,” Lily said, turning away. 

“Wait!” James said, causing Lily to turn back. “I was just about to start Outlander.”

“Wait, really?” she asked. She couldn’t believe that he was going to sit down and watch the show because she mentioned it to him. 

“Yeah,’ James said, running a hand through his hair. “I was just about to order some curry, too. Wanna join?”

Lily blinked and James' face quickly fell. He started babbling. 

“Not like a date or anything!” he started. “You’re just the first person I’ve really talked to since moving here and I think you’d be a, a great friend—”

“I’d love to, James,” she said, talking over his babbling. James smiled brightly. 

She told him the best curry place that delivered in town and her order. She wanted to change into something more comfortable before they started so she ran back to her apartment. 

Normally, Lily would be reserved about these kind of things, but James didn’t seem to be a threat. He had been nice enough and Marlene had always said she needed to put herself out there more. If that included eating curry while watching Outlander, she was more than happy to oblige. 

She put on some leggings and an oversized jumper. She quickly put her hair up. She grabbed her phone and keys. She was almost out the door when she remembered a tub of ice cream she had in the freezer. She ran back and grabbed it, hoping James was a fan of brownie batter. 

When she knocked, James let her in. 

“Oh, ice cream?” he asked. 

“Yep. Like brownie batter?” she asked. His eyes lit up. 

“Yes! My favorite,” he said. “Besides mint chocolate chip.”

Lily made a face. 

“Mint chocolate chip taste like bad tooth paste,” she said. 

James let out an offended noise as he took the ice cream from her and walked towards the fridge. 

“It does not!”

Lily smiled and looked around James' apartment. He had a decent sized television and a large gray sectional that looked soft. Buttercream was napping on the top of the couch, his tail flicking back and forth. 

It wasn’t really decorated, Lily noted. He had a few pictures up but the walls were bare. Lily noticed some books on his entertainment center and went and looked at them. They were mostly about sports, rules and techniques, and whatnot. Lily also noticed the books he checked out earlier on his coffee table, one of them with a bookmark already in it. 

“So,” James began entering the living room. “How much do you think I’m going to like the show?”

Lily hummed for a second. 

“I think you’ll either get really into it or you’ll be indifferent,” she said. “I don’t know you well enough to give a better judgement. I don’t think you’ll hate it though.”

“Fair enough,” he said, petting Buttercream. “I looked it up and it sounds quite interesting.”

“Are you a big fan of period pieces?” Lily asked. James glanced up at her with a smile. 

“Don’t tell my brother this,” he started. “If you ever meet him. But yes, I am.”

Lily smiled. 

“What’s your favorite?” she asked. She watched as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“My mum made me watch Pride and Prejudice so many times, I can recite the movie line by line,” he said. 

Lily felt unbridled glee. That was her favorite movie, hands down. She knew it wasn’t accurate to the book but the tension between the characters in the movie drew Lily in more than anything. 

“The 2005 movie?” she asked, her excitement showing. 

“Yep. We did watch the BBC version quite a few times though,” James said. “I love Colin Firth, but there’s just something about the movie.”

They talked excitedly about the movie, comparing the two adaptations when their food arrived. Once they had settled on the couch, take-out containers and plastic forks in hand, James went to Netflix and started Outlander. 

[simplybakugou]

Dial Tone

↝ Following the death of your sister you have a habit of texting her phone number in an attempt to ease the pain you’re feeling. After some time, someone finally responds to your texts.

BINGO SPACE: Wrong Number

⋆ PAIRING: prohero!kirishima x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: slight angst; talks about the death of a loved one; fluff  ⋆ WORD COUNT: 2818

A/N: yes this is another @bnhabookclub​ bingo piece lmao. this was inspired by the time that i received a text from a dad who had told me his late daughter owned my phone number and it broke my heart. i’ve seen similar stories to this on twitter and i wanted to do my own spin on it but through a fic!

thank you to the anon who requested for kirishima for this prompt! and the transparent kirishima cap in the banner is from the bnha bookclub google drive.

FULL BINGO MASTERLIST

✐posted 08.15.2020✐

The air felt heavy as it usually did whenever you visited that dark and eerie place the same time every month. The sky was filled with dark grey clouds and soft rain droplets began pelting your body as you clapped your hands and bowed your head in front of the tombstone. You rose to your feet, placing the fresh bouquet of flowers you had purchased in front of the urn beside the tombstone and dusted off the dirt on your kneecaps.

Each raindrop harshly attacked you as they fell as soon enough you were drenched as you walked towards your car, your tears melding with the droplets streaking your cheeks. Finally you arrived by your car, sitting in the driver’s side as the leather seat became wet from your body.

This time of the month was always the hardest for you, the suffocating feeling that always remained in your chest never left since you had visited your sister’s grave.

Nonetheless you knew you had to keep moving on, knowing that if you sat around with your thoughts you would just make yourself more upset than you already were. You started your vehicle and pulled out of the cemetery and onto the main road, making your way home.

Although it didn’t seem like it, life wasn’t always so miserable for you. There was a time when you were happy, a time where you could look back at with adoration.

When you were starting high school, you were attending the esteemed U.A. High, pursuing your dream of becoming a hero just as every other kid your age attending a hero school was aspiring to do. Your parents had both passed away in a car accident when you were young and you were left in your older sister, (S/N)’s care. She supported you all the way, acting as the mother and father you had no memory of but desperately wanted as you could only feel envious of the other kids who had their parents attend all of their ceremonies and functions.

But it wasn’t so bad, having your sister supporting you as best as she could to make do with the unfortunate situation you were both put in.

Although things were bright for a short period of time, you were granted a heartbreaking and life changing call one day after school. You were just about to finish up your first year at U.A. and if constantly dealing with the League of Villains or schoolwork wasn’t enough, you found out about (S/N) having a terminal disease.

The doctors gave you and your sister their condolences, explaining that (S/N) was undergoing a disease as a result of her quirk not being able to maintain her body as it was slowly killing her from the inside out. Since you were informed of this unfortunate event, you dropped out of the hero course in U.A., having to pursue a part time job on top of taking online classes to balance paying for your sister’s medical bills as well as wanting to still be able to have a high school diploma (even if it wouldn’t be as a hero).

It broke your heart to have to leave your friends and not be able to chase after your biggest dream but nothing meant more to you than your sister’s health. She had taken care of you for so long; now it was your turn to return the favor.

Although you had left U.A. High, your friends that you had gotten quite close to made sure to visit the hospital in which you were temporarily staying at from time to time after school. Sero, Kirishima, Mina, and Kaminari were the ones who visited the most and they would even get Bakugou to come along on certain days as well. It made you feel reassured to have people being there for you during a difficult time in your life.

But as the years passed and your previous classmates graduated, their frequent visits turned to occasional texts here and there as their lives took a full 180 as they were thrusted into the craziness that comes with being a pro hero. You understood the position they were in and would often watch the news with your sister, feeling proud as you heard story after story of your friends saving people during their times of need.

Unfortunately with time, (S/N) lost her long battle with her terminal disease and even though you knew it was bound to happen, there was no way you would ever be able to subsidize the pain you were feeling following her passing. 

For the longest time you felt alone and there were times you still felt bedridden with sorrow and desolation, still feeling the pain of your sister’s passing as it had only been a year since her death. 

In order to feel somewhat at peace, you would still text your sister’s old phone number everyday. When you were still in school and she was looking after you, you had to let her know if you were eating, what time you got home, and things in this similar nature as (S/N) was often working and wanted to check up on you when you were home alone. This became a force of habit and you didn’t want to stop, using this new texting method as a way for you to settle your own mind and give yourself some peace by not breaking this procedure that your sister had you do.

You would even call her phone every now and then, wanting to hear her sweet voice through her voicemail. It was silly, you knew it was, but this was the only thing that was keeping you sane. When you lose someone you love in your life, someone who was by your side at all times, they don’t dissipate in thin air right when they die. You lose them slowly. From when you wake up and realize breakfast isn’t ready or when you realized you didn’t have anyone to talk to, that’s when it hits you. Your sister was gone and now you had to learn how to live without her.

You pulled into the parking lot of the bookstore, letting out a sigh as you exited the vehicle. The first day of every month for the past year since your sister died you would visit her grave for a little chat. It gave you a peace of mind to be able to speak with her in what seemed like the closest thing to “a talk in person” as you could. Sometimes texting her number or listening to her voicemail on repeat wasn’t enough.

“(L/N)! You’re here!” Aiko, one of your employees, exclaimed as you walked inside. “I thought you weren’t going to come in today.”

You shrugged, slipping off your soaked coat onto the hanger by the front desk. “I didn’t feel like staying home alone so I might as well sell some books instead.”

Aiko nodded, getting up to put back some misplaced books that customers had strewn around randomly. You sat down as she went to the back, leaning back in your chair as you stared up at the ceiling.

The emptiness inside you, a feeling that you had grown accustomed to by now no matter how much it hurt, felt stronger than usual that day. You pulled your phone out from your pocket, sending a quick message to your sister to let her know you had gotten to work safely. Within minutes, just as you were about to put your phone away and get to work, the usual “delivered” sign under your message changed into “read,” indicating that someone had seen your message. That’s weird… maybe a glitch?

Still it was unsettling so you decided to call (S/N)’s number, waiting patiently as the phone began to ring. With each ring your suspicions lessened as you assumed the read receipt was a mistake. Just as you were about to hang up, you could hear someone pick up their phone from the other line.

“Hello?” A man’s voice asked from the other side and you nearly slipped off your chair from shock, not expecting to hear a live voice. You immediately hung up, looking back at your sister’s number as you were completely discombobulated from what had happened. You assumed that one of these days (S/N)’s number would be given to another person but you still were taken aback to hear another person’s voice.

***

The events from the day before were quickly vanished from your mind as you had to tend to customers right after the mysterious man picked up your call. You returned home, already tired from visiting your sister and working the whole day didn’t help with that. You even sent the number a message about what you had eaten for dinner, the lack of a reply making you forget once again.

In fact, you couldn’t even remember what had happened yesterday as you absentmindedly texted (S/N) as you usually did.

Y/N: I’m heading out. Hopefully today will be better than yesterday. Love you and I miss you!

Just as you hit the “send” button for the message, realization sets in as you wanted to smack yourself for forgetting that another person had gotten the number. Right when you were about to send an apology message, the unknown man sent you a message back.

MAN: Um… Who is this?

You were quick to write up an explanation.

Y/N: Sorry, my older sister used to own this phone number. She used to make me text her whenever I ate or left the house so I got used to sending these messages. She passed away a year ago and I still send the texts. I’m sorry for bothering with these silly texts. You won’t have to deal with them from now on.

You sent your explanation, deciding to delete the messages and shoving your phone into your pocket. It was nice to maintain this habit of yours while it lasted but it was time to let bygones be bygones. You didn’t bother to read the man’s response as you left for another day of work.

***

The rest of the day passed like every other day did, slow and filled with your own loneliness. You bowed to and thanked your last customer of the day and let out a big sigh as you began closing up the shop, putting away any books dispersed around the shelves and taking the cash from the register.

You turned the small TV in the corner off as well, smiling at the sight of Bakugou and Kaminari finishing up a mission and successfully catching a villain as they were acknowledged for their bravery on the news. You couldn’t express how proud you felt when you saw your friends, or any of your classmates really, on the news for their achievements as they continued to save as many people as they possibly could. 

Just as you were grabbing your things to leave, your phone buzzed on the table. You glanced at it, furrowing your brows at the sign of your sister’s name, which you still hadn’t removed from your contacts, sending you a message.

MAN: Did you eat dinner?

You were beyond puzzled. Did he mean to send this to you? 

Y/N: I think you have the wrong number…

MAN: You’re the one who sent me a message about my number belonging to my sister, right?

How odd… It wasn’t a mistake then.

Y/N: Yes, that’s me. But why did you ask if I ate dinner?

MAN: Oh well I saw your text from two nights ago talking about what you ate for dinner. At first I didn’t think about it but then you explained why you texted this number and I just wanted to know if you ate dinner? Since you usually let your sister know if you did.

You smiled at the message. Whoever this man was, he seemed genuine and considerate. 

Y/N: You’re very sweet. You don’t have to worry about those texts I used to send. It was a force of habit and I won’t bother you with them again.

He almost immediately responded.

MAN: Don’t worry about that. I’m gonna take that as you didn’t eat dinner.

You didn’t reply initially as you were trying to figure this guy out and before you could muster up a response, he beat you to it.

MAN: From your area code you must be from Musutafu, too. This might be a lot but do you want to grab some dinner? There’s a great place on the intersection by U.A. High School. 

The request was definitely an odd one. You’d never been asked out in this manner, then again it was rare to be asked out like this, but you didn’t want to say no. The mystery man seemed nice and it would be good for you to actually make a friend instead of being alone all day long. If it weren’t for Aiko or your customers, you probably wouldn’t meet another human at all.

Y/N: That sounds nice. Can we meet in an hour if that works for you?

MAN: Sounds good! I get off work then so I’ll see you soon.

***

It got colder just an hour after you closed the bookstore. Miniscule snowflakes fell from the sky, littering the roads and the outside with a white blanket. You waited outside the restaurant that the mystery man told you about. As it was close by U.A. you and your close friends would stop by after school so you knew exactly where he was talking about. You smiled as the memories of the times you spent with your friends whom you missed dearly flooded your mind, reminding you about how lonely you truly were now.

A shiver went down your spine as you rubbed your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up. You checked your phone for the time, realizing that he was an hour late. Maybe he got busy at work, you told yourself as you let out a sigh, preparing to leave and go home.

“Hey!” A voice called out from down the road. You turned to the source of the sound, squinting through the snowflakes as you identified a man waving at you with his blinding red hair being the one thing that stuck out like a sore thumb.

As he got closer and closer and you got a better look at his face, your eyes widened as you realized who the man was. “Kirishima?”

Kirishima stood in front of you, giving you a perplexed expression. Usually when people recognized him, they addressed him as Red Riot due to his popularity as a pro hero. But there was something about you that seemed so familiar, something that he couldn’t quite figure out. “Do we know each--” He stopped mid sentence as his eyes grew into the shape of saucers. “Y/N?!”

Before you could say anything else, Kirishima’s face lit up as he was stoked to finally see his old friend again. “How have you been? You look great! Even better than how you did back in U.A.!”

“T-Thank you.” You grew flustered, not expecting to be praised in such a manner. “So you’re the one who got my sister’s number?”

“Yeah. I had to get it changed after a fan ended up leaking my number and I kept getting a ton of messages from random people,” Kirishima said with a laugh, rubbing the nape of his neck sheepishly. His expression faltered into a more serious one as he glanced down at you. “And I'm sorry to hear about your sister. I know she meant a lot to you and I should’ve visited you guys more after graduation.”

You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. “It’s okay. I know you’ve been busy being a hero and all.”

He looked down at you, taking his scarf from his neck and wrapping it around yours. You looked up at him, moving to remove the fabric from around your neck. “Oh no, it’s okay. You don’t have to—”

“You look cold. It’s the least I can do for making you wait so long.” Kirishima smiled, wrapping the end of the scarf over your shoulder once more. “Well I’m glad to see that you’re okay. To be honest I did miss you after all this time.” 

Kirishima opened the door to the restaurant, gesturing for you to go in. “Come on, we can catch up over dinner.” You grinned, entering the building as he followed suit. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt genuinely happy like this and you couldn’t ask for a better person to bring back the happiness that you had been lacking in your life for quite some time. 

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[yessoupy]

the @imetyouonljpodcast episode this week gave me lots of thoughts and feelings about star wars. more like, reminded me of all my thoughts and feelings around my first fandom. thus, I decided to write my own journey into and throughout star wars fandom, and what it means to me. buckle up, this story spans decades.

my very first memory of anything star wars-related is a yoda puppet that my grandmother had. it had to be from the original run of the movies, because I was maybe 4 in my first memory of it, and i was born in '86. my sisters and I loved it, and one of our cousins was deathly scared of it so we'd chase him around the house with it.

my second memory of star wars was going to the movie store with my dad and sisters and seeing our favorite yoda on the cover of a VHS. "yoda yoda yoda! daddy, it's yoda!!! can we get it?" we were holding up the display cover for return of the jedi. dad said no, we couldn't get that one yet because we had to watch them in order. so we rented a new hope and all I remember was falling asleep while artoo and threepio were trundling across the tatooine desert sands. at five I guess I was too young.

in early 1997 the special editions of the original trilogy were aired in theaters and I was in 4th grade. dad took us to see one of them (I think empire, at some point we'd finally finished a new hope). at school that grading period I sat next to a boy named mark and he noticed I was drawing little x-wing silhouettes on my paper. "you like star wars too?" he asked. when I said yes, he declared that because of my name, he was going to call me skywalker. that's the name on the back of my high school letter jacket.

in fall of 1998 I started the 6th grade and I came home from school one day to a hardbound book my mom had checked out for me from the library. heir to the empire by timothy zahn. mom pointed out where it said on the cover it was a trilogy, and I could get the other books when I finished this one. she hadn't found the young jedi knights series for me. she'd checked out a GROWN-UP star wars book.

in spring of 1999 the phantom menace came out and my parents' friend took me to see it on opening day because neither of them were free and I HAD to go that day. later on that year she took me to a star wars exhibit at the museum of fine arts. that was also the first time I saw a monet and a renoir. the exhibit had costumes (real costumes!!!) from the original trilogy and the newest prequel. I bought a book about the myth of star wars in the museum gift shop.

I read every expanded universe book our local library had, which was a lot. I had a lot to catch up on, too, since heir to the empire had been published in 1992. you never saw me at school without a star wars book. I read while walking in the hallways, even. in 6th grade I read during lunch, since I was in varsity orchestra with 7th and 8th graders and was terribly shy. they'd tell me I should socialize at lunch, not read my books, but... I wanted to read. I had a lot to learn. I have a lot to know.

I was in 7th grade when I read vector prime, the first in the new series. my first class of the day was science, and the boy I had a crush on was in that class. we had DEAR time at the beginning of that class - drop everything and read. not a hardship for me. that day, I read the part of the book where chewbacca was killed. I looked up, astonished. heartbroken. I locked eyes with the boy I liked. he nodded at the book and I showed him the cover. he nodded sympathetically. "they killed chewie," I whispered. he said "I know."

I wrote original characters in star wars fan fiction when I was about 13. I had an internet friend named rachel who lived in brisbane. then there was dave and 'roswell' who gave me ideas for my story. I loved being able to talk about the wide world of star wars with other people. we used aol instant messenger and email. my username in those days had 'skywalker' in it. I am pretty sure we met in an aol chatroom. I didn't find much of use on the official star wars site and I have probably visited it fewer than 10 times since 1999.

I read those books all through middle and high school. they were my christmas presents and my birthday presents. I moved into our family beach house after college. it sounds really nice but I didn't have running water because it was the summer after Ike hit. I would go to the used book store on 23rd street and buy a stack of star wars books and read them while I waiting for calls to interview for a teaching position. weekends I'd go into town to stay at a friend's house and help her with wedding stuff. I'd shower there, too. that's where my new stash of star wars books started, with me catching up on the legacy of the force series I hadn't read in college and then finishing up through the fate of the jedi as those came out. I felt that I had grown up with these characters. I remembered when kyp was just an orphan han rescued, when jacen and jaina were five years old, when corran horn had no wife, no kids, and was just finding out who his family was. I had capital o opinions about what color lightsaber i would have and why (silver; bc corran), I knew the geography of the galaxy and where everyone was from and my favorite planet was dathomir because women ruled it. I knew all of these characters' histories and motivations and the difficult decisions they'd made and had to live with. I loved them.

i never ventured into the online fandom space for star wars, even after I'd found other online fandom spaces, because I didn't feel like there was anything anyone could add to it for me. I was satisfied with all I'd gotten. sure, favorite characters had been killed (after chewie, the one who stung most was Mara, luke's wife), but people die. and in such a long-running series spanning so many years and trillions of miles of space... you come to expect it.

people would ask me ALL THE TIME when the sequels were coming out and I said never. then, disney bought star wars. initially I was excited (tears of joy happy) to have sequels confirmed. my mind raced, imagining a trilogy centered on the events surrounding jacen's descent to the dark side. the original actors would be the right age for that. who could play jacen?

then, the announcement came that the canon was now 'legends' and they wouldn't be taking any of it into account when writing the sequels BUT that didn't mean we wouldn't see old canon favorites. they announced adam driver as the villain and I thought "jacen." I held onto the idea that this knowledge I had, these years of knowing these stories, would still be worth something. that I'd be able to add new information to my mental bookshelves and maps. that my universe would expand further.

the force awakens was a bitter disappointment. I was upset from the crawl, leia's title making it clear to me that she wasn't chief of state, she wasn't the mother to three children, han wasn't her husband, and all of her history I'd grown to love really was gone. what I saw was the older version of a woman I'd met when she was 18 and hadn't seen her since her early twenties. I didn't know her.

I didn't know the galaxy, either. starting with the new jedi order series, a map of the galaxy was included in the front of each book with the planets named so you knew where everything was happening. the new galaxy was bare. it was small and knowable. while the hosnian prime system was destroyed in the movie, I'd never known it, and all the planets I DID know were similarly blasted out of memory. where was dathomir and its fierce warrior witches? if their planets were gone so were their people.

as the movie trudged on, a retelling of a new hope, I kept thinking, "at least let his name be jacen." I hung my hopes on this sith character being han and leia's son and sharing that name of the boy I'd known and the man who'd grown up to turn to the dark side. at that first shout of 'BEN!' I was angry. Ben?? that was the name of LUKE'S son! that was MARA'S child! Ben??? with three letters jacen solo and ben skywalker were also dead to the galaxy.

I know, I know. I should get over it. I AM thankful for poe dameron. the x-wing books were always my favorite. poe was familiar to me the way other new characters weren't. he was part of the new republic navy. I knew what that was. he flew an x-wing. I knew what that was.l and what company manufactured them. he was from yavin IV, I knew where that was and what it looked like. finn was a stormtrooper, yes, but the empire had not stolen children to be raised as stormtroopers. they were recruited like any other position. his story wasn't real to me, it wasn't something I could easily accept. and the idea that the new republic just LET the first order rise? leia's new republic would NEVER. but leia wasn't chief of state in this universe. leia hadn't had that power.

I read a lot of articles about the force awakens and the reactions to it, and never saw myself in any of them. the star wars fanboys whom I'd never known were painted as being angry because their fan knowledge was useless and "boo-hoo poor widdle fanboys" they would be mocked, rightfully. but that's why I was angry, ultimately. everyone I knew and loved was dead. worse, they'd never existed. "what do you think will happen?" some unsuspecting coworker would ask. I'd shrug, but inside I was yelling "who the fuck knows! my favorite characters don't exist anymore. nothing I know as this person you know as SKYWALKER means anything anymore."

it only got worse from there. One day I spent four hours figuring out how far the casino planet was from the drifting ships in the last jedi and doing math to figure out how long it would REALLY take to get there, using old canon star wars physics. I couldn't suspend my disbelief during that movie. everything was wrong. (the other space physics quibble I had was from TFA when poe is using comms while in hyperspace, and dropping out on a command and not... when nav told him to?? you'd fly right through a star!! were they HOVERING in hyperspace? none of it made sense.) I knew too much and too little to enjoy it.

TROS was a narrative mess already retconning new canon and I decided that I would only keep what I liked about the new canon (poe and his family) and pretend the old canon is all there is. one day I'll write the story of poe being part of the storied rogue squadron being sent by leia's new republic to put down the fascist upstarts at the edge of the unknown regions. one day.

one more quick story -- i met my college friend’s three kids for the first time when the oldest was 6. i’d sent a toy lightsaber as a gift when he was born, because i believe every child should get their first lightsaber from a skywalker, and his father had shown him the movies when he turned 4. when i walked into the house i said hello and he said, “i have some questions about star wars.”

we sat on the couch with the tfa visual dictionary, a book he’d gotten out of the library. every question he had was an excellent question, and i couldn’t answer any of them. “why does his lightsaber look like that? and why does he have the extra blades?” 

“well, kiddo, let’s see what it says here about how lightsabers are made. i used to know all about it, but they changed everything on me.”

---

what i love about star wars since disney bought it:

poe dameron, cassian andor (and all of rogue one, i got over the fact that the movie wouldn’t be about rogue squadron it was PERFECT), solo (a fucking DELIGHT), the mandalorian, and i’m sure the cassian andor live action will be amazing and i’ll love it. 

[oh-so-scenarios]

Hello Again...❦| 00 (ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ)

⤳ Tʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ʜɪs ᴍᴀɴʏ ʏᴇᴀʀs, Mʀ. Pᴀʀᴋ ʜᴀs ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀᴄʀᴏss ᴍᴀɴʏ ғᴀᴄᴇs. Bᴜᴛ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʜᴇ'ᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀ sᴇᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.

⤳ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ!Jɪᴍɪɴ x ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⤳ᴀɴɢsᴛ, ғʟᴜғғ, ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ!ᴀᴜ, (ᴀᴛ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ) sᴍᴜᴛ

A/N: This series will be mostly from Jimin’s POV. For this chapter though, we will have an MC’s POv. It’ll feel like you’ve been thrown into the middle of things which is good! lol 

***Please ignore any errors! It is unedited!

(Word Count: 3.90K)

 Next ◀ ▶  Series Index | Masterlist

Y/N:

Time. Time is everything. At least working for Mr. Park it is. 32 days, I have been here for 32 days and I still shake with nerves every day. 

8am: make sure the cooks have begun Mr. Park’s breakfast. 

8:45am: breakfast is set. Mr. Park eats, alone. 

9:30am: print all of Mr. Park’s appointments and place them in his office. 

10:30am: prepare for appointments and point them towards Mr. Park’s office. Do not let them enter early. They must enter at the appointed time. 

12:30pm: Mr. Park’s lunch should be set in the dining room. He will eat alone.

The rest of the day continues like that. It’s...a routine. A strict routine. Nothing should be done a minute later or a minute earlier. Though I’ve never seen Mr. Park’s anger when something is done late, I’ve seen the fear in the eyes of other workers when they seem to be running late. 

Every 4 days the gardener is expected to do touch-ups on the large garden on the further right back of the house. The maid is to show up every weekday at 2pm and leave by 5pm. She cannot stay a minute longer.

Who knows why Mr. Park is so strict about these details, but I am determined to keep them. I am….the coordinator? That’s the best title for my position. I make sure everything runs correctly and on time. If anything is out of place, I’ll be the one to blame. 

The coordinator before me was a frail older woman with a friendly smile. Mrs. Yoon was her name. She wore thick black-rimmed glasses and her years working here did not take away from her kind nature. Though she has told me that Mr. Park is a difficult man to work for. His expectations are high.

I expected as much. Such a time mannered schedule for one’s home life gave it away. However, I do not know what Mr. Park’s work life is either. I assumed his work must be successful to have such a big home, but no details were given.

“Do not answer, unless you are asked.” Those were Mrs. Yoon’s parting words. Do as little talking as possible and just stay on schedule. 

Sounds easy enough. The workers know the deal and are able to keep up. They have no choice but to keep up. 

The pay here is wonderful and the hours are good. 7am to 7pm, 5 days a week. The posting online for the position was vague, and I thought I was going to walk into some type of scam. I am glad that I took the risk.

Despite working here for 32 days, there is one thing that hasn’t happened. I have not met Mr. Park. I have not seen him once. My first week here, I thought I was being tricked. Is there really a man that lives here? The house is barely decorated, there is no personality to the place. 

If it were not for the appointments that come in daily, I’d assume I was looking after a ghost home. I stood in the kitchen with the cooks, sitting at the circular table that was sat in the further end of the kitchen. That’s where we usually sit for our lunch breaks. I was about 30 minutes late to take my break. However, it was worth it, in the end, to see that Mr. Park’s lunch was prepared on time. 

This is only the second time I’ve decided to stay in the house to eat. Going out to eat or ordering was always a hassle. Mr. Park’s house was on the outskirts of town, surrounded by a light forest area. The closest house was about a mile away. 

I barely made it back in time to enjoy my food, and delivery men were always getting lost, resulting in my food being cold by the time I received it. 

Ami, the head chef, suggested cooking lunch for me along with the other kitchen staff, seeing as Mr. Park allows them to do so.

I gladly agreed, and it’s been easier on me since. The food was amazing. Absolutely delicious and I couldn’t get enough. But as I sat at the table, enjoying the rice along with the side dishes, a thought entered my mind. 

I glanced over at Ami who had just walked through the swinging door that led to the dining room. 

Mr. Park is in the other room. This is the closest I’ve been to him, hearing some soft chatter from the dining room. Ami locks her jaw as she grabs a plate off the kitchen counter to join me at the table. The other kitchen staff has decided to go out to eat, seeing as they won’t need to be back for some hours. 

“What’s up?” I asked, my brows furrowing. 

“Mr. Park isn’t in a good mood today. He’s arguing with someone on the phone.” She explains, “Sowe really need to be on top of our game.”

I sighed, “He must be a grumpy old man.” I took another spoon of rice, not noticing Ami’s amused eyes on me. When I finally look up, it’s because her hissing laughs were breaking through.

I stared at her confused, not sure what was so funny.

“You’ve never met Mr.Park! I totally forgot!” She said in a small voice, “Did you think Mr. Park was an old man?” 

I raise an eyebrow at her, “He’s not an old man? What is his middle-aged?” 

“Not even close. He’s not even 30.” She mutters before taking a bite of her phone. My face scrunches up in question. Mr. Park is a young man?

 “Huh.” I said letting out a harsh breath, “that’s interesting. I wonder what type of man is so rigorous with his time.” 

Ami rolls her eyes, her long black hair pulled into a tight bun on her head. She wore her white chef’s coat with her loose black pants.

“All the times I’ve met him, he’s been very kind. He smiles and says hello, then goes about his day. He gives bonuses often, as long as you do your work properly.”

Before I could respond, I heard some noise from the dining room. Both our heads turned as we heard a crash, followed by a frustrated groan. 

“Don’t send her!” The voice hissed, “I am not going to play these games with you!”

I look at Ami with wide eyes and she shrugs, “It must be a business call of some sort. Clients get on his nerves sometimes.” She took another spoonful of food into her mouth, glancing at the doors that led to the dining room. 

My brows furrow in thought before I ask my next question, “What type of work does Mr. Park do?” 

Ami freezes for a second, her eyes glancing around as she thought for a moment. She lets out a huff of air as something dawns on her. 

“I don’t know, I never looked into it. I just cook his food, nothing more.” She gives me a knowing look. It’s clear that no one pokes to know more about Mr. Park. They simply do their job and leave. Fair enough. I know when to poke for more information and there isn’t any. 

Even if I am a curious person, I won’t ask questions. I’d rather go about my work peacefully. It isn’t till we hear a distant door slam closed that Ami stands from her seat, a groan leaving her lips as she moves towards the dining room doors. 

“You go on with your schedule, I’ll clean up whatever mess he left.” With that, she disappears into the dining room. I finish up my lunch, making sure to clean up my mess and set the plates into the sink. I rush out the other kitchen door, bringing me to the big looby area of the house. 

“Mr. Park’s next appointments will be arriving,” I muttered to myself. It’ll be less than 10 minutes before they arrive. I walk through one of the doorways on either side of the grand staircase. One doorway led to the living room with the other took you down long and wide hallways. 

I made my way down the hallways as quickly as I could. My grey pencil skirt wasn’t tight, however, it did restrict the full movement of my legs. My simple white blouse had long sleeves and was warmer than it appeared. 

I learned after my first week that it was usually cold in the house. I had to figure out all the small things on my own. It’s always cold in the house, Mr. Park likes to keep the curtains drawn. He doesn’t like to see dust anywhere and his appointments are the most important part of his day. 

He spends hours with just a single client at times, but he will never posh back an appointment for another client. The time they paid for, is the time they will receive Maybe he’s a therapist? 

I rush into the small office that holds employee paperwork and other things. This is informally my office. I spend some time in the small room, making sure everything is running smoothly. I have two computer screens, one of them displaying all the security cameras in real-time. There is another office for security, but they rarely need to leave their space. I grab the red clipboard I’ve become accustomed to and my black pen. 

I check the list of names and times, hauling myself through the hallway just in time to catch the outline of a body behind the door. The tempered glass on the black double doors that led into the house always made it easy to see when guests arrived. 

It was noted that I should answer the door before they need to ring the bell. Mr. Park doesn’t like the sound of his doorbell. I rushed forward and opened the door, seeing an older man in a sharp suit standing with his fist up. 

He must have been ready to knock on the door. 

“Name?” I said trying to catch my breath. I glanced down at the clipboard, knowing it was Mr. Gwan.

“Mr. Gwan,” He answers, “I have an appointment for 1:15.” My eyes move to the clock hung up on the wall above the door. Just a few more minutes.

“Follow me,” I say, finally recovering from my running. Mr. Gwan closes the door behind him, and though it is my first time meeting him, I can’t help but stop my motions. 

He narrows his eyes at me, his eyes moving up and down my body. I would usually be offended, but it wasn’t in that manner. 

His hair was grey, with some traces of while in his eyebrows. His skin was wrinkled, showing his age. He was taller than me with a lean frame. His all-black suit reminded me of something that would be worn at a funeral. 

“Do I know you?” He questions. 

I chuckle awkwardly, “I doubt it, sir. Have you meet with Mr. Park before?”

“Of course,” He snickers, pointing towards the hallway. I smiled at him before I started walking again, with him following close behind. He knew where he was going.

“I come to see him every few months.” He giggles, realizing I must be new, “Mrs. Yoon finally retired?” 

Though it was a question, he already knew the answer,

We turn a corner, Mr. Park’s office door just insight. 

“Are you sure we haven’t met before?” Mr. Gwan repeats. We stop in front of Mr. Park’s door and I turn to face the man. His eyes held kindness. They were such a light brown, that they almost looked golden. It looked like they were glowing in the dimly lit hallway.

“I don’t believe so Mr. Gwan, I might just have a familiar face,” I gesture towards the door, “Please, Mr. Park is waiting for you.”

I stepped away from the door and watched as Mr. Gwan opened the door, and stepped into my Mr. Park’s office. The door wasn’t opened so widely that I could see into the office.  I spun around on my heels and made my way back to my office. 

For the next hour, I’m sitting in my room, going through the appointment booking email to make up Mr. Park’s day tomorrow. The emails never explain the appointments. Mr. Park simply sends me a list of the appointments he has approved and the few he hasn’t.

It wasn’t till I heard the hard taps against my window that I realized it was pouring down. Just as I turned to the window behind me, I caught a crack of lightning, 

“Oh! it’s really pouring huh?” 

I was sure it was going to clear up in the next few hours, but as I ushered in the last client, it was clear the rain wasn’t letting up. The man took off his drenched jacket and hung it up on the rack. 

He’s a regular, so I gladly let him walk to Mr. Park’s room himself. I shut the door, wondering what exactly was going to happen. The wind was howling, the rain was pouring and thunder was roaring. There is no way an uber is gonna get through all this forest to come to pick me up. I am screwed. 

The time was 5:30pm. Mr. Park has his dinner at 7pm, and my workday ends at 7pm. However, it doesn’t look like I’ll be leaving at 7.

 It’s not long before Mr. Park’s workday comes to an end. The last client leaves and I am sitting there wondering what to do. Ami and the rest of the kitchen staff shuffled into my office earlier, voicing the same concerns I held. I sat at my desk, staring at the phone. All I have to do is press a single button to ring Mr. Park’s office. I don't know why I’m so nervous, seeing as he’s just my boss, this being my first interaction with him, I’d like to make a good impression.

I was pulled out of my thoughts as my desk phone began to ring, the light by the number one letting me know that it’s coming from Mr. Park’s office.

I answered quickly, not wanting to leave him waiting.

“Hello?” I answered. 

“Yes, Ms. L/N?” A kind voice spoke, “this is Mr. Park.” He paused, almost waiting for me to respond. 

I caught on slowly, finally replying with a small yes.

“Yes, the weather outside is getting worse. The storm won’t pass for the rest of the night. You and the rest of the staff are welcome to stay the night. I have enough room.” He states, “Please make sure the rest of the staff know.” 

The phone clicks before I could even reply, leaving me with the hung up dial tone. I put the phone back to the receiver, almost sighing in relief. He is just as kind as Ami said. His voice was light and enticing. There was a nurturing nature to his voice like he could sense my stress.

However, my relief was short-lived as my office phone began to ring once again.

“Hello?” 

“Ms. L/N.” This time it was from the security office, my eyes jumped to the screen with the video surveillance.

“Does Mr. Park have another appointment?” My eyes settled on the camera pointed towards the front door just as the guard spoke. Standing there were 3 figures. I could vaguely make out one man and two women. The man is clearly older, seeming old enough to be the younger woman’s father. Her long black hair was parted down the middle and tucked behind her ears. She wore a casual black dress and the older woman beside her stood in a red blouse and black dress pants.

“No, he doesn’t.” I finally answer, “I don’t know who these people are.” I answered, noticing the girl wiped the rain from her face. Oh right! It’s raining! 

I’m finally taking in their wet appearance, her hair now starting to stick to her face. I frowned, worried that they would get sick. It doesn’t seem like they have coats with them. How did they get here? I didn’t see any car in the driveway. 

“I will go check Ms. L/n. Please don’t worry about it.” The guard said before hanging up the phone. I put the phone down, nervously tapping my fingers on the wooden desk. I hope this doesn’t disturb Mr. Park’s dinner. 

Or was he expecting guests for dinner? I’m usually gone by this time. The guard ends up calling Mr. Park, seeing as I soon see two figures walking into the lobby, one of them being very unfamiliar. The guard isn’t who has my attention. It’s the dark-haired man who was clearly slim fit. His hair was messy, and he ran his fingers through his hair as the guard explained the presence of the three guests. He wore a plain white Tee shirt and grey joggers. 

He walked some gracefully, his head held high with his hands tucked into his pockets. That’s Mr. Park? He doesn’t look a day over 25! What could such a young man be doing with such a fortune? I couldn’t see his face clearly, just because of the angle of the camera, but he’s obviously handsome.

Strangely, the three guests made no move to ring the doorbell or knock. They only stood there patiently, speaking among themselves. I narrowed my eyes at the strange behavior

I leaned back in my seat, watching as Mr. Park opened the door. He didn’t look pleased to see the guest, but they were not strangers. Mr. Park lets them in, shutting the door behind them, and leaning on the door with his arms crossed. I was so tuned into the camera that I didn’t notice the security guard left.

“They are friends of his.’ The guard says as he waltzes into the office, “But he doesn’t seem happy to see them. I can’t be sure if it’s because they are interrupting his schedule or if he truly doesn’t like them.”

I can only nod, “I see.” I glance back at the screen, watching what seems to be a heated conversation.

Mr. Park kept his position on his back against the door, arms crossed and his attention on his feet. The other three people stood in front of him, all talking at the same time. Are these clients? Maybe family members?

They are weird ones, that’s for sure. All three stood there, completely soaked head to toe, not minding the condition that they were in. Mr. Park is yelling. I could faintly hear it, and he was leaning forward, making the other three move back in...fear?

I get up from my seat as the voices rise in volume. I walk out of my office and tread lightly towards the lobby area.

“Jimin please!” A voice shrill. It must be the older woman? The voice was unsteady and shook as if the person was crying. 

“How long are you all going to do this?” Another voice hisses. I’m guessing it must be Mr. Park, who I’m guessing is Jimin?

“Jisoo is a lovely woman, she is so accomplished, so powerful. Everyone is expecting a proposal! If this delays anymore--”

“Uncle, who’s at fault? Who has been planting seeds into everyone’s ears? I never once showed interest in Jisoo but you let your imagination build a fairytale ending in your head! There won't be one!” 

Ahh, so they are family? I can hear them, but I can’t see whatever is going on, but it is time for Mr. Park’s dinner. He can’t run late. I don’t want his mood to turn sour as he realizes he is running behind. 

I stepped out from the hallway, my presence not being noticed until I spoke. 

“Mr. Park, it is time for dinner,” I said after a short gap of silence fell between the four adults. I finally laid eyes on Mr. Park. I must say...what a beautiful man. His features were soft, but the hard look in his eyes and his clenched jaw were not hidden by the kind features. His lips were pretty pink and his eyes a fiery honey brown. Even from where I stood, by the hall doorway, they stood out. 

The other three people were standing with their back to me, their postures stiff. They can’t be friends. Friendships shouldn’t feel so tense.

His eyes didn’t leave the face of the man I assumed was his father. It was the older woman who turned around to glance my way, a look that yelled “ugh the help!” in a snobby manner. 

But she quickly double-takes, her eyes widened. I am stunned by her eyes, almost the same hypnotizing light brown as Mr. Park. The longer I stare back at her, the more I notice the resemblance. It’s hard to miss. 

Is that Mr. Park’s mother?

The room stays silent, the man I’m assuming to be his uncle having a staring contest with the man of the house. 

“Are you fucking serious?” The older woman says quietly. She sounds defeated, and almost like she was on the verge of tears, again. I-is she talking to me? At first, I thought that she’s annoyed by my boldness. I interrupted a serious family conversation to announce dinner? I must be out of my mind. 

The younger woman turned to look at the older woman gripping her arm for balance. The young woman’s confusion was momentary as she followed the stunned woman’s gaze to my meek presence. The young lady narrowed her eyes, scoffing. 

“Wow.” She sounded annoyed. 

I looked over my shoulder, checking to see if there was something behind me. They couldn’t possibly be talking about me?

I clasp my hands in front of me, trying to keep my cool customer service smile. I don’t do well with stares.

“Jimin!” The older woman calls. I look towards the master of the house. He’s still glaring at his uncle. It’s almost like his eyes could physically burn a man down if he stared hard enough. 

“Jimin for fuck sakes!” The woman wails. 

“What is it?” He roars back, looking at the woman. The sudden voice of his voice causes me to jump and that movement catches his attention right away. His eyes bounced onto me, the angry gaze dropping to sadness? Confusion? The emotions flash over his face so quickly I can’t keep up.

I muster up a small smile, waiting for him to say something. There was something on the tip of his tongue. 

“Mr. Park?” I call out as everyone stares at me in silence. The uncle was also gawking at me. Their eyes held recognition. 

“Y/n?” Mr. Park calls out. It feels unsure, as though he was worried he was calling me the wrong name. Does he not know the name of his employees? I’ve been working here for over a month! 

“Yes, Mr. Park?” I hope my exasperation was leaking into my voice, as I was trying to keep my cool. All these people are staring at me like I’ve got three heads.

“What are you…” The uncle trails off, eying me up and down, “How are you…” He trails off again, turning to face me completely. 

My eyes move to every face, the questions in their eyes only are meeting with my equally confused face. 

“I’m sorry but,” I pause, “have...have we met before?”

[solbabies]

Im a hoe for the classics and by classics i mean popular x nerd trope,, so how about an Elu au with popular!Eliott and Nerd!Lucas 😎

Voila! Here is a great classic trope! Thank you for the request, and I hope you enjoy it! 

Find more of my Elu work on AO3 as @Book_Lover2001

_______________________

It was all because of a pen. A BiC to be exact; a round stic, blue ink, fine point, 0.8mm pen. Not quite technically a butterfly, but all the same in the matter of science.

The test was going to be easy. Multiple choice and long answer-- show your work, of course-- and Lucas had studied all weekend. He was on his way to acing the biology unit test. As Mrs. Rigaux began to unpack the stack of papers, Lucas reached for his backpack’s front pocket to find an empty space where his lucky pen was only moments before. Panic began to mildly set in. He just had it last class.

“Imane,” Lucas whispered to his seat partner who held a stoic, yet slightly nervous look. “Do you have a pen?” She rolled her eyes at him with the air of a disappointed mother, before searching through her own bag and retrieving what he had asked for.

“Are you coming to the meeting tonight?” she asked him quietly, as she handed him the pen. He tilted his head, unsure of what she was talking about.

“What meeting?”

“The meeting for the foyer?” she said as if obvious, before signing heavily. “The one that Daphné told you about? The student commons that we’re refixing? Dude, you’re honestly helpless. Sometimes I wonder if you’re actually smart.”

“Hey,” he defended, but didn’t take it to heart. She was always like this. “I’m smart.”

“Then where’s your pen?” she countered with a mocking smile. Mrs. Rigaux began to pass out the sheets of paper, weaving around the class as it started to fall silent.

“I swear, girl, I had one. I must have left it in my last class or something.” A paper was placed forcefully in front of him as they were shushed by their teacher.

“Do I need to separate you two?” she tisked as she handed Imane her sheet. “No more talking.”

When the end of the day came around, Lucas had already forgotten about his missing pen, although at the time of its disappearance he had been contemplating putting up ‘missing person’ signs.

“Lucas,” his name was spoken with a smooth tone as he opened his locker. Lucas was clutching his books to his chest as he pulled it’s door open, effectively hiding the person from his sight.

“Eliott,” he returned in a similar voice.

“Are we still on for tomorrow?” he asked as if Lucas hadn’t just rudely shielded his face from him.

“And what are we doing tomorrow?” he replied, as he attempted to fit all his papers inside the small space. Eliott had moved around to stand at Lucas’ other side, his back resting against the neighbouring lockers.

“You promised to teach me chemistry,” the older boy said with a smile pulling at his lips.

“Eliott, you are an L student,” Lucas brushed him off, shutting his locker in the process.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to learn science, and you are a really, really good S student-- the best I heard.” Lucas didn’t know whether he wanted to punch him or blush; maybe both.

“I think you’re confusing me with Imane, but I will gladly set you two up for a study date if you’d like?” Lucas told him, beginning to walk away. Eliott followed like a puppy chasing after it’s owner.

“Come on, Lucas. I know you tutor other people, why not me?”

“Those kids are actual ‘S’ students, taking ‘S’ courses, plus I have better things to be doing than humouring you for an afternoon. Don’t you have a party to plan or something?”

“I’m offended, my love, horribly offended…Unless you want a party, then I’ll throw you a rager-- in your honour of course.”

“I don’t ‘party’ Eliott,” he responded, shifting his backpack from one shoulder to the next. Lucas didn’t like parties, or large crowds at all. He didn’t like being looked at in the halls, or being passively judged by the countless people in Eliott’s circle of friends. Lucas preferred to stay at home with his books or his video games, watching random videos online until three in the morning. 

The hallway was beginning to clear itself out the further they walked into the school.

“Sticking around?” Eliott noted the direction they were moving in. Lucas looked at him from his peripheral vision. Sure, Eliott was objectively hot, but objectively a lot of people were.

“Hey, man!” Someone greeted Eliott as they passed a group of first years. Eliott nodded at them but didn’t break away from Lucas.

“I’m going to that foyer meeting for my friends. Feel free to leave.”

“Sounds like fun, I’m in,” Eliott shrugged. Lucas stopped walking, turning to look at him carefully, watching him with curious eyes.

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what?” Eliott asked, tilting his head, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“You’re going to come to the foyer meeting… voluntarily?”

“You’re going.”

“Yeah, but--”

“So I’m going.”

________

“I hate him,” Lucas told Yann as he flopped down on his best friend’s sofa. Basile and Arthur were stretched out on the floor, arguing amongst themselves about the Fifa game they were struggling to win.

“Why?” Yann asked, leaning back against the arm rest. Lucas blinked at him, his jaw clenched as he tried to verbalize his feelings.

“I… I don’t know! He’s just so… so…”

“Hot?” Arthur offered, not taking his eyes off the screen. Lucas nudged him with his foot, earning a noise of annoyance from the taller boy.

“Persistent,” Lucas concluded. “He won’t give up.”

“But… you like him?” Basile asked, curiously.

“Of course I don’t like him.”

“But he’s hot?” Basile questioned.

“I guess, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to date him.”

“But he’s also a nice guy,” Yann added, unhelpfully. “Always helpful, cheerful, popular-- everyone likes him.”

“Except me, apparently. Why do I have to like him? He walks around like the god of the school, just expecting me to… I don’t know, fall to his feet like everyone else? He’s always coming up with stupid excuses to see me, or talk to me. Every corner I take, I’m surprised when I don’t find him following me. He’s always listening to me, even when I’m purposefully talking absolute nonsense to bore him. He came to a foyer meeting today because I was going and then he volunteered to paint the mural for the common room because I mentioned how ugly it was and--” Lucas cut himself off, letting his brain catch up to his mouth.

“And what?” Yann asked, hanging on his last word.

“And I thought it was really nice,” Lucas spoke with a softer tone, surprising even himself. “I guess sometimes I get disappointed when he’s not at my locker waiting for me at the end of the day… like that one time he was sick and I was a bit worried something happened to him. Sometimes he leaves me these little drawings when he’s got football practice and can’t make it. I…” The boys were all staring at him as the realization dawned on him. “Do I like Eliott?”

________

Eliott was talking to some girls, a horde of girls actually. They were all smiling and giggling at something that he said, but he looked completely unphased by their reactions. His smile seemed more focused on what he was talking about, rather than who was listening.

“Ugh,” Alexia said, as Lucas and the Crew walked out of the common room. “He’s so hot. I can’t.”

“Aren’t you dating someone?” Lucas noted, watching the scene unfolding in front of him with an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.

“So?” she replied, waving off his observation. The girls all laughed taking off down the hall with a chorus of ‘goodbyes’ to Lucas. Instead of heading to his next class, which would start soon as the lunch hour came closer to ending, he stood frozen like an idiot watching Eliott talk. The way his smile pinched the corners of his eyes the more he droned on about whatever was so fascinating. The way his hands moved as he explained something to the girls who so obviously didn’t care about anything other than staring at his angular face and model-esque physique. The way that Lucas knew, even without seeing, that Eliott’s eyes were probably shimmering as he laughed at his own joke. None of it settled right with Lucas.

Before he could register what he was doing, Lucas was marching across the hall with purposeful strides. Without a word, Lucas yanked Eliott into the nearby empty classroom, ignoring the confused and slightly shocked faces of the girls.

“Lucas!” Eliott spoke with a stern voice, completely caught off guard by the sudden and very unexpected action. Lucas had his arms crossed, his foot tapping against the ground as he glared at the popular boy with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t know how you did it,” Lucas said, his voice low. Eliott’s face twitched, unsure of what was happening. There was a pause.

“Did what?”

“Make me like you.” Eliott drew back his head at the answer, his mouth curving into a small smile. “Don’t look so smug, I’m still trying to figure out when you altered the chemicals in my brain.”

“The chemicals in your brain?”

“Yeah, with your… pheromones! God, I hate you!” Lucas shouted.

“Well clearly you don’t,” Eliott chuckled, finding Lucas’ inner turmoil utterly entertaining. Taking a breath, Lucas realized what he had admitted and what he had abruptly done, and he was mortified with himself. His cheeks turned pink with embarrassment, his mouth opening slightly only to close.

“I…” Lucas began slowly. “I don’t know what came over me. Sorry. Can we just ignore what I just said? Great, I’m leaving.” Lucas reached for the door knob, but Eliott stopped him, his fingers curled around Lucas’ wrist.

“Wait,” he started. “You can’t just leave.”

“Why not? I said stupid things and now I’m going to leave so we can pretend it never happened.”

“So, you don’t like me then?” The question hung in the air and it was as if his words were suffocating him.

“No.”

“No, as in you don’t like me, or no, as in you do like me?” Lucas raked his teeth across his bottom lip as Eliott waited for his answer. His hand was still holding Lucas in place, and it was as if Lucas’ entire body was on fire.

“The… latter.” Eliott’s eyes softened, his touch dropping from Lucas as he brought his arm back down to his side.

“What changed?” Lucas ran his own hand soothingly up and down his arm, as if trying to comfort himself in this moment of honesty.

“I don’t think anything did,” he finally said. “I think I just lost my pen.”

“The butterfly effect?” Lucas raised his brow, as Eliott gave a soft laugh. “I listen to you when you talk, you know. You mentioned it once because it was in a book you were reading.” All Lucas could do was look at him. He didn’t understand Eliott, or why he does the things he does, or why he acts the way he acts. Lucas was barely processing the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to him.

“Kiss me,” Lucas blurted out against his own better judgement. Something passed before Eliott’s eyes, as his smile grew into a genuine expression that made Lucas’ heart ache. Eliott stepped forward, drawing Lucas closer to him by his waist. Their lips were so close Lucas could feel the static between them.

“You can change your mind.” But Lucas didn’t want to. Rather, he tipped his head up, closing the space between them, wrapping his arms around Eliott’s neck to hold him even closer. It felt as if something clicked in Lucas; like a lock turning open with the right key, or the last piece being fitted into a puzzle. Eliott felt like something he had been missing, and finally the last code of his cipher has been discovered.

By the time the bell rang, they were breathless and reluctant to pull away.

“I have to get to biology,” Lucas sighed, running his fingers through Eliott’s hair.

“I have to go to philosophy.” They both made a face.

“I’ll see you at my locker?”

“Now that I’ve seduced you, I don’t need to stay an extra hour to wait for you,” Eliott teased playfully. Lucas, who had begun to move for the door, paused.

“You waited an extra hour for me?

“My day ends earlier than yours,” Eliott replied with a shrug, as he draped his arm over Lucas’ shoulders to walk into the hall.

“But--”

“Don’t feel bad, I didn’t mind waiting,” Eliott said, dropping a kiss on the top of Lucas’ hair. “Plus, it actually forced me to do my homework when I was bored.”

“Why are you so…”

“Perfect? Handsome? Amazing?” Lucas was going to say stupid. Stupid for wasting his time on Lucas.

“Sure,” Lucas gave in. “All of the above.” As Eliott tucked him closely into his side as he walked him to his biology class, Lucas could already feel the eyes on him making his entire body tense.

“They’re all jealous,” Eliott whispered in his ear as they rounded a corner. “That they never had a chance.”

“Never?” Lucas highly doubted that.

“Never ever. You’re all I’ve ever seen, since the first day I transferred here.”

“No pressure or anything,” Lucas muttered lightly. Eliott’s laugh rang in Lucas’ ear like a song that made his heart skip a beat.

“Absolutely none, my love. Absolutely none.”

[jasonbehrs]

i wanna read every word, chapter 2

by airauralintensity (aka me, jasonbehrs!)

“Have you ever fallen in love with someone you’ve never met?” “Uh, do you mean like we’ve-been-doing-long-distance-slash-online-dating or like I’ve-been-crushing-on-the-cute-barista-at-the-library-cafe?” “Ummm, more like I’ve-read-their-poems-and-sure-they’re-very-talented-but-their-handwriting-alone-makes-me-smile.” “… That’s oddly specific.”

fandom: kpop, super junior characters: eunhyuk, ryeowook; guest appearances by the rest of sj-m and yesung ship: eunwook genre: romantic comedy themes: alternate endings, strangers to lovers, handwriting, identity reveal setting: college chapter: 2/4 word count: 5.2k

read it below or on ffnet, aff, wattpad

A/N (6.6.2021): Welcome to the next installment folks! Some clarifying things:

- This is the first of two alternate endings to the story, which answers the question, 'What if Ryeowook finds out first?'

- I got some interesting reviews/PMs about the last chapter? Eunhyuk isn't pining after Yesung or anything, and I didn't mean to indicate that would be an aspect of the story. If you were looking forward to it, I'll be disappointing you today haha. Feel free to let me know how much you hate me in a review ;)

Also, today would have been my grandmother's 102nd birthday, so I'm dedicating this chapter to her since she always loved seeing me write. Love you, Nanay!

~~~

He and Hyukjae haven't hung out alone before, but he's sure this won't be awkward. Their only real link may have just been Yesung, but Hyukjae successfully ingrained himself into their entire friend group in the short weeks since they first met. Besides, even if Hyukjae weren't so willing to help him with his twisted scavenger hunt for love, Ryeowook thinks he'd like to hang out with him some time anyway. He's grown to like Hyukjae, really.

At least, that's what he tells himself when he turns the corner and sees Hyukjae sitting alone on a bench in the quad with his legs crossed, a laptop over one knee and an open notebook on the other, waiting for him to arrive.

Ryeowook takes a breath to steel his nerves then heads over to plop himself right next to the other. He doesn't say anything and takes out his own work instead. They don't have to start with the crush thing.

"Ah, my favourite person under 5'2". How do you do?" Hyukjae snarks without pausing his typing.

In response, Ryeowook uses a single finger to tip Hyukjae's notebook onto the ground without remorse.

"Ya!" Hyukjae picks up his notebook and slaps Ryeowook with it.

On the downswing, Ryeowook freezes.

"Oh shit, did I hit you that hard? Sorry, I didn't mean to," Hyukjae hurriedly apologises, but that's not it at all.

Ryeowook had caught a glimpse of the notes hurriedly scrawled across the open book. He would recognise that handwriting anywhere.

"Why don't we get started then," Hyukjae offers uneasily, eyeing how Ryeowook's stance hadn't relaxed yet. "Um, did you bring a copy of one of the notes like we discussed?"

Of course he did. Ryeowook was so excited to be one step closer to identifying the person behind the song lyrics that took up as much space in his brain as his Food Sciences lecture notes, he had brought the whole ass scrapbook with him, eager to show off his favourites to a new and willing audience.

But now, Ryeowook is panicking. He found the object of his affections much sooner than for which he was ready; and said object is sitting right next to him, staring at him expectantly and eager to help.

Not letting himself think it through, Ryeowook rummages through his bag looking for viable scraps of paper. There is no way he is going to hand Hyukjae's own work to him, so he makes do with what he's got.

He bypasses the lyric samples he actually prepared for today's meeting and found ones of his own making which he had intended to recycle weeks ago but never got around to. He silently thanks himself for this terrible habit as he frantically smooths out the small squares of paper before handing them to Hyukjae.

The other raises his eyebrows as he reads through the papers. "Damn, I was hoping that maybe one of these things had even a little similarity to an assignment we've heard so far, but no dice."

Ryeowook nods, affecting understanding disappointment even as he privately rejoices.

"Do you mind if I keep these? I can, like, surreptitiously check people's notebooks during group assignments," he offers with a laugh. "Pearl blue sticky notes can't be that common in a class of 50, right?''

Ryeowook smiles, wide and fake. "Fingers crossed!"

~Even though we're making awkward conversation, it's clear that we're happy to be together.~

Thus proceeds their search for Poem Person. (The gender-neutral nickname Mi had come up with stuck even after Hyukjae revealed those were not actually poems being left behind. Alliterative nicknames are just so catchy.)

"Okay, what if we tie a balloon to your chair and hope Poem Person likes balloons enough to take it with them around campus?" "No way, they won't take it." "How could you possibly be so sure?"

Sometimes, it's Hyukjae coming up with ridiculous plots.

"Trust me. They curl their lowercase L's." "I'm gonna let this go, but I want you to know that makes zero sense."

Plots which Ryeowook foils with equally ridiculous reasoning.

"''We might have never known each other, but we crossed faraway paths and came together. We crossed the distance of a stranger that's farther away than space.' Huh, not bad." "You think so?"

Sometimes, it's Hyukjae asking to read more of the scraps that Ryeowook collects, partially so Hyukjae can make fun of him, but mostly so that he has more clues.

"Yeah. I mean, it doesn't help me at all, but your man's got a way with words. I wonder why he doesn't submit any of the stuff you've shown me for class. It's worth critiquing."

An ask which forces Ryeowook to wrack his brain for passable imitations of song-lyrics-that-could-be-mistakenly-construed-as-poems and to get used to writing with his nondominant hand.

"Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass." "Really? You're passing on Park Hyungsik?"

Today, neither of them are feeling very motivated, so Hyukjae pulls up the Facebook profiles of his classmates and let Ryeowook play smash or pass because "it's fun to hear strangers' opinions on people you know."

"Oh, absolutely. Does that guy look like he cares where he dots his i's and j's? Hard pass," Ryeowook maintains.

Hyukjae shakes his head in amazement as he pulls back his phone. "You'll meet him one day, and you'll regret this moment; mark my words. Hyungsik is universally loved. Honestly, I'm not convinced yet Poem Person isn't him. He fits basically all of your criteria."

Ryeowook has to actively smother a knowing smirk. "What a shame."

He didn't come clean to Hyukjae in the quad that day because he panicked. Ryeowook was not mentally ready to meet the object of his affections so soon, much more confess, so he acted on impulse to buy himself some time.

Once he had it, he got curious.

It's no secret that Ryeowook had built up an idea of what Poem Person is like. The lyrics provided some insight, of course; but most of his intuition came from the handwriting itself. From what he could see, Poem Person was supposed to be intensely passionate, excitingly impulsive, and almost sickeningly romantic.

"Okay, how about this guy?" Hyukjae asks as he passes his phone over again.

Ryeowook takes one look at the screen and snorts. "Very funny. Pass."

The app is opened to a photo of Hyukjae himself posed unnaturally on a couch wearing a forward-facing snapback perched atop his head and an awkward half-smile, and Ryeowook refuses to look at it any longer before he does something he'll regret, like coo affectionately.

"Pass!?" Hyukjae repeats with mock-incredulity. "Don't you think he looks charming and witty and oh-so-loveable?"

Ryeowook indeed had a lot of thoughts about what Poem Person would look like, and 'charming,' 'witty,' and 'oh-so-loveable' have indeed flitted through his mind. Actually, Ryeowook finds that Hyukjae and Poem Person aren't altogether dissimilar.

Hyukjae is passionate about his craft, to be sure, but it doesn't occupy every one of his waking moments like Ryeowook expected. He is as much of a romantic as the next person is, but really Hyukjae is poetic, a distinction Ryeowook learns and appreciates very early on. Hyukjae is a little too thoughtful to be so impulsive, but his quick wit and ability to do/say/become whatever a situation calls for more than fulfill the quota for chaos that underlay Ryeowook's original supposition.

So yes, Ryeowook is withholding the truth so that he can slot the person he made up in his head into the person Hyukjae is, but it's been worth it.

"He looks like a brat and like his feet smell." "YAH! My shoes don't breathe!" "Get better shoes, then." "Give me the money, then." "Get a job, then." "That's not fair! Helping you find Poem Person is basically my part-time job!" "Consider it more of an unpaid internship."

Before Hyukjae takes his turn to volley back, his phone rings in his hand.

"Ah, as much fun as this was, I gotta go. I have a mini-showcase coming up, and I've been slacking on rehearsals." He shakes his phone towards Ryeowook, and the latter could see an alarm screen that reads "get your dumb ass to the gulliver center!"

Ryeowook's heart beats a noticeable thump thump all of a sudden. "Can I come with?"

"S-sure," Hyukjae says, shocked by the offer. "But why?"

That's a great question. For now, he says, "Because your internship is getting in the way of your studies, and I feel bad," but later, he'll know it's because he didn't want his time with Hyukjae to end so soon.

A grateful grin spreads across Hyukjae's face, and Ryeowook will add that onto his list of reasons later as well. "An audience is always welcome."

In no time, Hyukjae is in a practise room in the athletic center stretching his limbs every which way while Ryeowook watches as intently as possible while feigning interest in literally anything else in the room.

The bass-heavy noise music that Hyukjae puts on startles his attention back onto the dancer, and Ryeowook can no longer hide how blatantly he stares.

Hyukjae moves through the choreography so fluidly it almost looks lazy. He goes from jagged angles and harsh lines to sinewy curves and rolling waves to strong stomps and high jumps with no hesitation. He plays with the rhythm of the music, and he makes full use of the space available to him. Ryeowook is barely processing one impressive move when Hyukjae executes another one; and before he knows it, the performance is over.

"So," Hyukjae pants, "what'd ya think?"

"It's…" Jaw-dropping. Powerful. Hot. "… impressive," Ryeowook says at last.

Hyukjae smiles tightly. "Thanks. It actually needs a bit of work for the showcase, but I don't think the routine is all too shabby."

Ryeowook watches as Hyukjae watches himself through the mirror, redoing parts of the choreography over and over again at different tempos just to fine-tune his movements, and he can't help but feel like Hyukjae needed more from him.

"Um, I wonder if maybe it's lacking emotion?"

All movement halts. "What?"

Ryeowook didn't mean to say that; but now that it's out, he finds himself needing to continue. "You move well, um, obviously," he gestures awkwardly to Hyukjae's person, fighting a blush. "It looks physically difficult, sure, but what is it that you're trying to say? Like, I'm guessing you chose that song, too, right? So, why?"

Hyukjae stands in the middle of the room, arms limp by his side, and staring at Ryeowook with an unnervingly blank look on his face. Ryeowook hastily backpedals, "But hey, what do I know? I'm sure your professors will watch you and see all the nuances I can't with my untrained peon eyes. I was just… talking to talk, I guess."

"No, but I think you have a point," Hyukjae interjects.

Ryeowook perks up. "I do?"

"Yeah, like… I was so focused on trying to show what I can do with something only I could do, but that means basically nothing when any one of my classmates could learn my routine with only a week of practise. The only way I would be able to stand out is from whatever I put into it, but you made me realise I didn't put anything into it." He plops on the floor, eyebrows furrowed in consternation.

Ryeowook shakes his head adamantly. "No, no! There's clearly something there! You just need to, like, bring it out more. You have that whole idea—that this is something only you can do. You can take that, morph your routine into a testament to your need to prove yourself. Start with some trepidation, throw some desperation in the middle, and end with triumph. Honestly, I think I saw a little bit of that in your performance already. Maybe it was an accident, but now, just… do it on purpose."

"'Do it on purpose,'" Hyukjae repeats to himself. His head is down, so Ryeowook can't immediately tell what he thinks of the idea. He's ready to apologise again, even offer to go home so that Hyukjae can concentrate better, but then Hyukjae raises his head. "Alright, let me give that a try."

His eyes are filled with will and determination. Ryeowook, of all people, put those there.

He sits back and watches Hyukjae rehearse his routine over and over again, getting better and more evocative each time.

The Hyukjae before him is not a Hyukjae Ryeowook would have been able to guess based on his handwriting and lyrics alone.

Ryeowook knows basically nothing about dancing; but over the past few weeks, he's really come to know Hyukjae. He's noticed how the other is prone to express himself through movement, like when he accentuates his stories with body language and physical reenactments. It belies a comfort and confidence with his body and what it can do with which Ryeowook could never empathise. It's a subtle thing, but impactful nevertheless.

He smothers it down because he doesn't want to give Hyukjae the wrong idea, but he wants to laugh.

Only he could fall for a dancer's words first before anything else, and only he could fall for the same person twice.

~Where should I start? When should I say it? Darling, our seconds, our minutes together were beautiful.~

"Ryeowook, why haven't you asked to see my handwriting yet?"

"What?"

They had commandeered a study room in the library, but honestly neither of them are making a lot of headway in their respective assignments. Ryeowook didn't want anything to do with Organic Chemistry, but this conversation is making him reconsider his previous stance.

"Isn't that what you're into? Trying to infer people's personalities based on their handwriting?"

"I'm not into it. It just happened."

"Okay, sure, but aren't you, like, good at it now? Read mine! Tell me what it says about me."

Ryeowook, desperate to squash this idea immediately, blurts out. "It… It won't work!"

"Why not?" Hyukjae pouts.

Ryeowook scrambles. "Because I know you already. Yeah. I'll see and interpret things in a way that confirms what I already know."

Hyukjae eyebrows furrow in what Ryeowook can presume is consternation. "Sorry," he offers feebly.

Some more time passes, and Ryeowook makes mild progress on his O-Chem work, before Hyukjae speaks up again. "So if you can't do me, can you do my friend?" he asks with an excited tone that makes Ryeowook wary.

"I do not want to do your friend." You, however…

"NO! I mean: can you interpret my friend's handwriting? Here. He left it at my place last time we studied together."

Hyukjae's smirk radiates smug self-satisfaction, and with one look at the paper, Ryeowook understands why. He actively controls every muscle in his body to prevent the facepalm that's threatening to break loose.

He has to give Hyukjae props, though. If Ryeowook weren't already so intimately acquainted with the handwriting on the page before him, the other's ploy could have worked.

Regardless, he still finds himself in the position he was trying to avoid in the first place.

All the best lies are based in truth, right? "So I can tell your friend has a very high-stress major. The handwriting is cramped and small, like he can't waste a single stroke or else he'll miss something he needs to write down. Ah, see how he doesn't fully cross his t's and dot his i's? He thinks he'll be able to read his own handwriting later. He probably has decent memory or just has a lot of faith in himself."

Hyukjae nods with an impressed frown. "Huh, not bad."

It would be so, so easy to stop there, but Ryeowook can't. He loves Hyukjae's handwriting too much. "And look here," he points excitedly to a cross-out near the center of the page. "He could cross out his mistakes with a single line or a little squiggle, but he completely blocks it out instead. It suggests he has more confidence with the obvious; but really, I think he needs the reminder. Like, 'Yeah, I made a mistake. I'll move on, but I won't let myself forget. That way I don't do it again.'"

A moment later, Ryeowook realises with a jolt that he had been holding and smiling at the scrap paper a little too tenderly. He whips his head up in embarrassment, an explanation-slash-apology at the tip of his tongue, but Hyukjae doesn't seem to notice.

In fact, Hyukjae has been silent the whole time. Ryeowook chuckles awkwardly. "Am I right?"

"Huh?" Hyukjae intones as he's brought out of his reverie. Ryeowook thinks he sees something in his eyes when their gazes meet, but Hyukjae blinks and it's gone. "I'm sorry, what did you ask me?"

"I was wondering if I was right. About your 'friend,'" Ryeowook reminds, air quotes clear in his tone.

Hyukjae shuffles uncomfortably in his seat. "I think you're more right than even he's ready to admit," he says with a hand at the back of his neck and a sardonic quirk of his lips.

The sight causes an unexplainable swell of affection within Ryeowook, and he turns away. "He can take his time," he assures, eyes trained on his textbook even though he can't read a damn thing.

Hyukjae nods his thanks and turns back to his homework, but Ryeowook doesn't feel right letting it end here.

"Hey, wanna give my handwriting a try?"

~You always lift your head to look up at me. I want to take my big hands and cup your small cheeks.~

Next time they're meant to hang out, it's the weekend; and Hyukjae texts him to meet him at Bomnal.

"Both of us were here just two days ago, and we have to be here again in two days. Don't we spend enough time in Bomnal as it is?" Ryeowook complains as soon as he enters the atrium of the academic building.

"Think of it like a field trip. Come on, Wook," Hyukjae says as he leads them to the second floor lecture hall.

"Pretty sure field trips are meant to take us out of the classroom, but sure, whatever," Ryeowook grumbles as he follows along.

He's testy. He knows it, but he can't help it.

This is the first time both of them will be in Bomnal 235 at once. It feels like a turning point, like he's going to learn something today whether he wants to or not. He wonders if Hyukjae feels the same sense of impending that he does, or maybe it's just worse for him because he's in love.

As soon as they open the doors, the automatic lights flick on and douse the room with a very awake yellow.

"So… where do you normally sit?" Hyukjae asks as he motions to the empty seats before them.

Ryeowook freezes. Now that it's upon him, he can definitively identify this as the thing he was anxious about.

What if he tells the truth, Hyukjae realises Poem Person is him, and he feels awkward about it? Their comfortable but still-very-new friendship would evaporate on the spot, and Ryeowook won't have him in any capacity, much more a romantic one.

So, in another impeccable display of judgement, he decides to lie again.

"Oh, you know… I change it up," he mildly comments as he moves to somewhere near the middle of the first row. He sits down and gives an unassuming grin to his friend, who makes a face. "You're one of those people? Haven't you heard of the same seats code of conduct? You fed me some crap about curling L's when really it's your fault the balloon trick wouldn't have worked," Hyukjae jokes in that way where he's completely serious but is phrasing it with humour.

Ryeowook feels a genuine, fond grin spread across his face before he can help it, and he quickly ducks his head. "Why are we here, again?" he asks instead of dwelling on the validating comfort of being known.

"Why not?" Hyukjae asks as he moves to sit down. "This is the place it all began, right? Might as well."

Ryeowook, for his part, only stares.

Hyukjae went up to a seat in the rear right quadrant of the lecture hall. Ryeowok's own, real seat is directly in front of where the other is sitting. That can't be a coincidence.

"Um, I'm guessing that's where you sit?" he asks as casually as possible.

"Huh? Oh! Haha, yeah. It's funny, I didn't even think of sitting anywhere else. My feet just automatically guided me here."

"So funny," Ryeowook squeaks out.

"Yeah, my friend in the class actually used to sit with me, but it became very apparent very quickly that we would never get anything done if we did, so he moved down there." Hyukjae points with his foot to Ryeowook's seat, and Ryeowook's breath hitches in his throat. "Sometimes when I'm bored, I just can't help but throw stuff onto his desk just to annoy him." Hyukjae mimes a free throw shot towards the desk and smiles.

Well, if there were any doubt before in Ryeowook's mind that Hyukjae was Poem Person, it has summarily been erased.

Ryeowook hums but says nothing else, letting a companionable silence stretch between them as he acknowledges the warmth that settles into his chest when he confirms with himself that yes, he is glad that Hyukjae is Poem Person.

"Why are you helping me?" he asks, curious and without judgement. The abrupt question startles the other out of whatever reverie he had settled into during their respite, but Hyukjae bounces back quickly, as he always does.

"You know, I had to figure that answer out myself," Hyukjae answers with a laugh. He leans back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head, staring out at the empty lecture hall. "I told you I would at first because it was obvious that I was the only one in a position to actually help. It wasn't even an option in my mind that I wouldn't… But even after my sense of obligation ran out, I wanted to keep going.

"You're cool, Ryeowook. You're fun to be around, you're sassy, you're down to try anything once. You're totally comfortable being yourself, and your 'self' is crazy. Like, who else trusts in their gut enough that this person you're chasing after is worth the effort? Who else would go to the lengths to which you're willing to go just to meet him? Honestly, I think that's pretty awesome. I don't know if I could have that same confidence you do."

He tilts his head towards Ryeowook then and gives a close-lipped, self-convinced smile. "If anyone's gonna find love based on a few scraps of paper and a dream, it's gonna be you."

Ryeowook nods mutely. He hopes the distance between them is enough to disguise the blush on his cheeks.

Hyukjae faces forward again. "If I think about it, I guess I'm being selfish, too. I want to believe a love like that is possible; and if I help you find him, I'll get to see it happen for myself… I really hope this guy is worth it, Ryeowook. I think it would break my heart as much as yours if he weren't."

He is, though. He's so worth it. "Me too."

~Longing is a beautiful pain I thought I could endure.~

Ryeowook walks out of the campus mail room, and life couldn't get better.

He just picked up a care package his mom sent him; he got a 94 on his last Nutrition Essentials quiz; and Hyukjae loves the new low-fat, protein-enhanced strawberry scones recipe he tried out yesterday.

Speaking of whom, he thinks this whole Poem Person plot is going to wrap up soon. The last time they must have actually worked on a strategy to find out who Poem Person was, like, two weeks ago at least; and Ryeowook's glad he can stop pretending he has any interest anymore.

Their friendship has wholly evolved beyond the point of needing a project to work on in order to spend time with each other anyway. Why pine after a fictitious man when he has a whole Hyukjae right there, who buys him coffee lattes simply because he's Hyukjae's dongsaeng and who helps him study for his quizzes even when Hyukjae himself is stressed.

Ryeowook tells himself that with some more time, the whole mystery will just fade into an inside joke between the two of them, a white whale they can reminisce about when they're sipping soju and reminiscing… preferably cuddled on a couch and with his head on Hyukaje's shoulder.

However, his friend group did not get the memo.

"So, uh. What happened to Poem Person?" Henry asks one weekend while everyone is at Ryeo-Mi's apartment.

"Shut up!" Kyuhyun admonishes with a slap to the back of Henry's head. "Ryeowook hasn't annoyed us with that in weeks. Aren't you grateful?!"

"I actually am very curious about what happened there. Weren't you and Hyukjae supposed to find him together?" Yesung asks.

"The gen—" "Maybe I'm manifesting, Mi! Ever think of that?"

Ryeowook cuts in before Mi's feelings get even more hurt. "Yeah, we were, but honestly I've kinda given up on the whole thing."

He expects some shock, but he couldn't have predicted who would be the most affected. "You're just gonna give up on finding love!?" Mi despairs.

"Actually, the potential for a romantic relationship was never confirmed," Henry quips. Yesung gives Henry a high-five.

"It was just a little crush," Ryeowook defends. "I've moved past it, as I was bound to do eventually." He says this last part to Kyuhyun, who he knows was the most annoyed with his actions back then.

"'Eventually' doesn't end in time for finals week, Wook," Kyuhyun retorts.

"Well, now you never have to worry about it, Hyun."

"Is love dead?" Mi desponds aloud, but no one pays him any mind.

Ryeowook pats his roommate's shoulders in a half-hearted attempt at consolation. If Mi turns out to be the only casualty in this whole ordeal, Ryeowook will count this as a win.

What he doesn't count on is the fact that Hyukjae would invariably hear about it.

"Is it true?" Hyukjae corners him after Ryeowook picks up his order from the on-campus cafe.

"You know, I don't think so. I think she's just Henry's accompanist for rehearsals," Ryeowook responds genuinely, certain that the latest gossip about Henry's potentially secret girlfriend is what Hyukjae must have been referring to.

"What? No!" Hyukjae stops in confusion but stomps after Ryeowook once he gets his bearings back. "No, I heard that you gave up on finding him, that you gave up a while ago. Is it true?"

Ryeowook hesitates to sit down at the open table he found, and Hyukjae's entire posture seizes in betrayal. "Alright, got it," Hyukjae says with an edge to his tone. "Do me a favour, yeah? Never talk to me ever again."

"Wait!" Ryeowook calls once Hyukjae turns on his heel and storms off. "Hyukjae, wait!" He pays no mind to the fact that he's abandoning his belongings as he chases Hyukjae outside. "I get that you're angry, but don't you think this is a little much?"

He reaches out for Hyukjae's upper arm, but the other immediately shrugs it off. Ryeowook flinches and retreats slightly. Despite the other's obvious fury, Hyukjae is stopped in place and seems willing to actually talk to him, and Ryeowook holds onto that hope instead.

"No, actually," Hyukjae sneers. "I think this is the perfect amount of much when you find out your best friend has been wasting your time for who knows how long!"

Of all the things Hyukjae could have said in that moment, Ryeowook didn't expect that reaction at all. It stings more than he expects, cuts through his defensiveness; and despite his position in the situation, he can't help but need comfort. "What do you mean?" he asks in a confused, desperate voice.

"What do I mean?" Hyukjae repeats exasperatedly. "Ryeowook, we spent weeks together trying to figure out how to get you your dream guy! We never even got anywhere, and, and… And it's all because of you! You shot down basically every one of my ideas practically from the beginning, even after I told you how much it would personally mean to me. That is, like, the textbook definition of a waste of time!"

"You weren't having fun?"

"What?" Hyukjae demands incredulously.

"All that time we spent together," Ryeowook clarifies as he steadfastly meets Hyukjae's angry gaze. "You didn't have fun?"

Hyukjae is silent, and his body posture screams obstinate defiance, but his eyes remain trained on Ryeowook.

"You didn't come to look forward to spending time with me? You didn't spend your free time thinking of ways to make me laugh?"

Hyukjae rolls his eyes. "So what? What does any of that mean when you were just stringing me along? You… you weren't even using me!?" he exclaims, voice rising in a hysterical question. "That was literally the whole basis of our friendship, and you couldn't even do that? Like, what could you have possibly gained from lying to my face like that for all this time?"

Ryeowook gives a watery smile at the non-answer and looks down at his fingers fidgeting together. "I did, too," he says in a voice so quiet it was like he intended to keep that to himself.

It's silent for a long time after that admission. Hyukjae's lividness has dissipated, and he is only left with a disappointment so painful he doesn't want to dwell on it any further. He moves to leave Ryeowook alone outside of the cafe, but Ryeowook's voice stops him.

"W-What did you say?" Hyukjae asks with apprehension.

Ryeowook ignores the tears falling from his eyes as he repeats himself. "I'm in a rush to catch you, but you're in a hurry to leave. Should I just surrender? Now we're like an old and worn notebook filled with scribbles."

Hyukjae simply stares, and Ryeowook takes that as his cue to keep going. "Take your beautiful smile with you. Don't leave it here. You saw me with tears in my eyes."

By heart,

"I was a selfish man, but my life is divided into before and after I knew you."

Ryeowook recites lyric,

"When I first saw you, it felt like a miracle."

after lyric,

"I'm thinking of you more today. I wonder how tomorrow morning will be. Will I miss you more than I do today?"

after lyric;

"I'm honest because I don't know lies before love."

and before he knows it,

"I'd place my feelings on the thawing snow. I'd hang my wish on a disappearing star, but only if you ask me to."

Hyukjae is within arm's reach.

"It's me?" Hyukjae whispers into the scant centimetres between them. "It's really me?" he asks again when Ryeowook had simply nodded.

Ryeowook can't even help it when he recites, "Even when you ask me again, for me, it's only you." with a breathy laugh as he shyly looks away.

Hyukjae moves to gently hold Ryeowook's hand. "And you're okay with that?"

Ryeowook wants to laugh and melt and cry and run away, but instead he settles for an earnest nod and a hesitant smile. "Are you?"

Hyukjae answers him with a kiss, and it feels like a dazzling melody.

~Together, we can make all our unfulfilled dreams come true.~

[stickynotesandstress]

My Tips for Actually Having a Shred of Motivation in Online Classes

Online classes, some love them, some hate them with fiery passion, and most people are taking them for the first time right now and wondering what the hell is going on. Before the pandemic hit, I was no stranger to online classes as I was one of the two students in my high school who took them. I am, however, a complete stranger to online class in university and online classes at home (we did the high school ones in the library). I’ve figured out some things that work for me, so I thought I’d share them to try and help others.

You don’t actually have to change out of your pyjamas. I’ve seen so many people saying to “get dressed in the morning, it will make you feel so much more productive” and that shit just does not fly with me. When I was doing in person classes, whenever I was back in my dorm studying/writing papers/reading, I was always in my pjs because they’re comfortable and when working you should be comfortable. So don’t think you have to put on jeans to succeed in online classes because that’s not it.

This one will not be pleasant for some people to hear, but set an alarm. Seriously. The first few weeks of school, I was waking up at eleven and rolling out of bed by 12 to get lunch to go to my 1:00 class and I felt like shit. I was over-rested and I just felt sluggish all the time. I’m not saying you need to wake up at the crack of dawn, but set an alarm for maybe 9:00 or 10:00.

After you’ve gotten out of bed, make your bed and go get some breakfast. I’m sure some of you are rolling your eyes at this since everyone says this and three weeks ago, I would have been rolling my eyes right along with you. I’ve never made my bed in my life regularly before now and never in my life have I ever been someone who ate breakfast, even as a kid I wouldn’t eat it. I’ve started doing it and it has made such a world of difference to have a somewhat organized/clean room and to have something to eat in the morning. I’ve been on my own at school being an adult and whatnot for three years and yet it seems like overnight I grew up into an actual adult who cleans and eats breakfast. It’s wild, man.

Drink water!!! You’re going to be staring at a screen all day and that gives you a headache as it is, don’t make it worse by being under-hyrdrated. When I don’t drink enough water, I start to feel really sick and get horrible migraines so it does make a difference.

Get a damn planner and stop checking your class syllabi every day to see if something is due. I don’t know how, but somehow I survived my first year and a half of uni without a planner and never turned a thing in late. I did pull all-nighters to write up a paper I didn’t remember until I checked the syllabus though and it caused me so much unnecessary stress. Take an hour and go through each syllabus and put everything in there. Make sure to plan out days to actually work on the assignments too, especially if they’re due on a Monday and you don’t realize it until you flip the page of your planner on said Monday morning.

If you’re like me and cannot focus when it’s quiet, get yourself some playlists. Here’s a wordless one I listen to when I’m really trying to concentrate: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qap5aO4i9A&ab_channel=ChilledCow and here is one I made for when I’m writing papers (if you can work while music with lyrics is playing that is) that exists mainly because the song titles and/or lyrics are things I’m thinking/screaming while writing: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5IcY1fjk8YOtgaBKF9ulj0?si=vGX5xK59R32h6yvqWaLPhQ

If you’re struggling, reach out to your profs. They are so willing and ready to help you (some profs are just assholes who won’t, but most of them are not like that). I promise you you won’t regret it. Also, if your school has a free writing centre, make use of it. I get A’s on the vast majority of my papers and I still go to the writing centre, so don’t think that going means that you’re dumb or you can’t handle college (like I did my first year and a half).

If you’re studying out of your childhood bedroom for the first time since high school (like myself), try to give it a bit of a makeover. I’m not saying to go crazy and paint the walls, but maybe take down the old posters, hang up some of your more ‘adult’ decor from your dorm room, maybe buy a couple of new things if you want to and can afford to, and move some of your furniture around, to make the place feel more suited to your needs now. I lost it one night and started tearing all the posters off my walls here because every morning I would wake up thinking I was seventeen again and I was losing my mind living in the same space as I did in high school. I’ve completely re-arranged my furniture, bought a cool new tapestry for my wall, and actually put some of my posters/pictures in frames and hung them back up and it has made a world of difference.

That’s all I have for this post anyway. I might make a post specifically about how I study right now because it is a lot different than what I normally do. I hope these helped in some small way, because distance learning is the worst fucking thing that’s happened to my education since I spent 12 years in grade school and didn’t learn shit. Hope everyone is well and staying safe!