#my little brother graduates today i’m stress drawing

[swagsmeister]

charlie could write symphony no. 9 but beethoven could never write dayman

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven.

Wordcount: 3k

Summary: 

Akaashi Keiji catches glimpses of another life in his dreams. He dreams of fields of endless gold, of constellation of stars that light up the night sky. He hears the echo of birdsong in her laughter, her song to the gods in the wind.

(Loosely inspired by Kimi No Nawa)

Masterlist link here 

AO3 link here

Author’s note: This fic is a little different from my usual work, so I’m a little nervous about publishing it. If you do like it, would love if you leave a comment / reblog / anything! 

If you’d like to be included in the taglist, do drop me a msg/ask! 

The first time it happens, Akaashi is in his third year of university. 

The upside of staying in Tokyo for university (his mother cried when he got into Waseda, her alma mater) is that he sees his family almost every weekend for cosy family dinners. The downside of staying in Tokyo for university is that he really has no excuse when his parents insist on carrying on Hatsumode, the first prayer of the new year, at the crack of dawn at the shrine close to their home. It’s not that he minds the tradition per se, but he did just spend all night rushing his projects just so he could adhere to the unspoken rule that no work should be done during the New Year holidays and spend some time flying kites with his little cousins. 

Still, there is something magical about starting the New Year watching dawn break and the world awaken from its slumber just as he reaches the summit of all twenty six steps to the top of the shrine, shrouded in the bare branches of the wisteria trees. He tosses coins into the box, drops into a deep bow twice, chin at waist level, clapping twice before bowing a final time. His mother buys far too many omamori, presses at least half of them into his unwilling hands when the omikuji he draws has a great curse scribbled on it. He’s not superstitious, so it doesn’t bother him, but he knows his mother is, so he does accept the omamori with some grace, though he draws the line at the love charm she tries to sneak into the pile. 

‘Mum, I’m too busy at school for a partner’, he tells her firmly. ‘Why don’t you pass it to Yuji-kun, he’s already started work, but hasn’t found a girlfriend from what Oba-chan tells me’. His elder cousin shoots him a particularly malevolent glare that he meets with a placid smile as his mother diverts her attention to him instead.

The faintest shiver runs up his fingers when he deposits the old charm he found in the corner of his closet, grey and faded with time, in the koshinsatsu osamedokoro, the omamori drop off open only during the first day of the New Year. The shiver turns into a ripple of cool water racing up his wrists and roars into an tsunami of dread when the attendant tells him all deposited charms will be burnt in the ritual fire in a fortnight’s time, but he writes it off as a symptom of his lack of sleep and starts to turn away. 

There’s a sudden echo of a nightmare of raging flames that prompts him to swivel around to snatch the omamori and stuff it back in his pocket, muttering apologies to the shocked attendant. Later, when he has time to process his impulse, he’d find it strange. In the meantime however, the festivities wait for no one, so he distracts himself by eating far too much dango and mochi in between rounds of tossing kites up to catch the wind. His uncles slip him full cups of sake and sweetened rice wine to his mother’s disapproval, which in hindsight he should have heeded, as he stumbles to bed that night, head heavy with alcohol. 

That night he dreams of a girl with curly hair, lying in a field of endless gold - daffodils to mark the dawn of spring. 

‘Also known as narcissus’, he hears himself say, hears himself narrate the myth of a man so entranced by his own reflection in the water that he lost his will when he realizes he cannot have his object of desire. A girlish voice lilts teasingly – ‘the flowers are too pretty to be ruined by your obsession of stories written by grumpy old men’. He wakes up with the ghost of laughter on his lips, but there’s a lingering sense of loss budding in barren soil of his heart. 

It does prompt him to pop by the florist near his parents’ house to order a bouquet of daffodils for his mom to be delivered on the first day of spring. He’s accustomed to the old couple running the shop, so he pauses just for a second when he walks into the store to find a new girl at the counter. She must not be used to customers yet, dropping the bouquet she’s working on when she notices him. 

‘Hi’, she stammers, cheeks pink. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘I’d like to make an advance order for daffodils please.’ 

‘For spring?’ she asks, and he nods, writing down his parents’ address when prompted. ‘That’s a good choice!’ 

She waves him off with a cheerful – ‘please come back again’, and he does not notice that there are stars in her eyes. 

His mother drags him back to the shrine on the third day of the holidays, and he obliges her, ever the dutiful only son, even though the frigid temperature makes his breath puff up into clouds and the tip of his nose turns numb. The old omamori is still snug in his jacket pocket, and as his fingers brush against it, he can feel the threads of the charm unravelling, the fabric almost fragile in its worn, threadbare state but he does not attempt to dispose of it again.  

‘What are you going to do once you’re done with your degree, Keiji?’ His mother asks, when they stop by an old teahouse for a cup of steaming genmaicha, the aroma of roasted rice tea warm against his cold nose. 

‘I intend to apply for a job at a publishing company after I graduate’, he tells her seriously, and she nods, encouraging him to continue. ‘I’m hoping it’s something to do with my major, preferably Japanese literature, better yet if it's poetry, but in this market, I’ll take what I can get’. 

His mother nods, smiling at him fondly. ‘I remember you used to be obsessed with Shakespeare and Greek myths when you were younger, all the way through high school, and your father and I thought that you’d end up majoring in that in university. You really surprised us when you chose to major in Japanese literature instead.’

‘I don’t know why, to be honest. Maybe I had a good Japanese literature tutor?’ He laughs, fiddling with his teacup. 

‘Mm I don’t think so though. I remember you complaining that Raku-sensei was so dull he caused everyone to fall asleep.’ He shrugs, and though she stares at him curiously, she does not pursue the line of conversation any further. 

That night he dreams of waking up in an old wooden house, shivering in a thick futon, the smoldering embers from the irori, mere inches from his face. It’s so very different from his childhood bedroom filled with modern appliances and walls of books neatly shelved in alphabetical order, but he doesn’t notice that in the dark. Instead, he reaches for his phone to check the time, bolting awake because that can’t be, he never misses his alarm, mentally calculating that he must leave the house in exactly fifteen minutes to make it in time for practice when a little boy bursts through the door. 

‘Nee-chan’, the little boy whines. ‘I’m hungry. Time for breakfast’. 

Did he just say Nee-chan? Scratch that - since when did he have a little brother? 

He scrambles out of bed, groping his way in the dark to the washroom. The cold water should wake him up, but when he looks up at the mirror above the sink, the face he’s staring at does not belong to him. No - it belongs to a dark eyed girl with curly hair - but it doesn’t make sense, shouldn’t make sense, because when he reaches a trembling finger to poke at the mirror, he is she or she is him - 

The ensuing panic and confusion makes him jerk out of his dream, but when he rushes to the washroom to check that he’s still himself, he is relieved to see that it’s still him - Akaashi Keiji, with dark circles around his eyes, staring back in disbelief. 

He chalks his strange dream up to the stress he carries around from trying to clear all his course work so he can audit additional classes over the next term. 

Except the dreams don’t stop, not even when he moves back to the university dorms. He keeps waking up drenched in cold sweat, clutching at his arms even though they’re clear of the scratches he sees in his dreams, red and raw and stretching all the way up his elbows. 

‘Be kinder to Hana-chan, Keiji-kun’, he hears the call of the same girl in his mind and he shudders, unsure whether the disembodied voice floating through his mind is a memory from his dream. ‘She’s going through an awfully tough time’.

‘It doesn’t give her the right to hurt you like that’, he can hear his faint disapproval. 

‘Never mind that, it’s not a big deal. What are we reading today – don’t tell me it’s anything like Hamlet. That was horrendously depressing.’ 

‘Midsummer’s Night Dream? It’s a romantic comedy at least.’

‘Only a nerd like you would read Shakespeare in high school – and it’s not even in Japanese!’

‘Hush – you don’t get to complain when I’m reading it out to you.’

‘What on earth is going on’, he mutters to himself. The copious amounts of frigid water he splashes onto his face is no antidote to this madness.

‘Sato-san, are you feeling alright?’ he asks his grimacing classmate in concern, lines of pain etched onto her face. 

‘I’m fine, Akaashi-kun’, she manages to spit out, clutching her stomach with white-knuckled hands. ‘It’ll pass in a bit, I hope’. 

‘Are you sure you’re fine? I could help you to the nurse’s office if that helps’. 

His classmate shakes her head, a blush staining her cheeks. ‘It’s just that time of the month. I apologise if that’s too much information to be polite’. 

Ah. But somehow even though he has no sisters, and his female classmates in high school were oddly reticent about their periods (strange, considering it is part and parcel of being a mammal for far more than a millenium) the steps to deal with this particular conundrum come to him so naturally it’s almost as if the answers were presented to him previously in a dream. 

‘Here’, he passes Sato-san painkillers, chocolate and a hot water bottle he’d managed to talk the university nurse into loaning him, and Sato practically whimpers in gratitude. 

‘You’re a lifesaver, Akaashi-kun’, she tells him and he nods, content that he’s solved the problem so efficiently. 

That night he wakes up in her body again. The room is dark, save for the sliver of white light between the blinds that allows him to discern the growing crimson stain between her legs. 

‘Don’t you know all women have to deal with this nonsense every month? But I’ll tell you a trick - painkillers, chocolate and a hot water bottle will make you feel as right as rain’, he hears her voice declare in his mind, and he startles awake to find himself back in his own bed, blessedly clear of any bloodstains. 

It must be a dream borne out of what happened today, he tells himself firmly and shrugs it off. The rest of his slumber is thankfully shorn of dreams. 

But then these dreams start to crash into his sleep like a series of never ending waves, and he’s a short hop, skip, jump away from falling off the cliff into a distracted madness, the rate his sleep keeps getting disrupted. He keeps waking up in her body, it makes him feel like a creep, wearing her skin like an ill-fitting glove, and he decided does not think about how strange it feels to have twin lumps of flesh in front of his chest (his mother raised him to be a gentleman, after all). 

The contents of these dreams are relatively cyclical. He wakes up at dawn, puts on her school uniform, makes breakfast for the little boy - Toya-chan over the primitive hearth before rushing to school through dirt paths lined with trees. His - or rather her classmates stare at her with a mix of condescension and apathy, and her hours in school are spent in a lonely silence, save when Hana-chan gets up in her face and screams absolute nonsense about staying the fuck away from her, which seems a little dramatic considering she’s the one doing the confronting, but it’s just a dream, so he keeps telling himself. It’s not like he can change anything about it. 

‘Does it bother you? That you’re alone?’ he asks her one day. 

‘Not really. I have you and Toya-chan, don’t I?’ she responds. 

‘I suppose’, he says, voice trailing off. 

He catches glimpses of sun drenched afternoons spent in fields of flowers, glances of dusky evenings spent in the forest basking in the light of the setting sun. He agonizes over stacks of homework, digs for mushrooms in the damp earth, climbs through wire fences to scavenge for eggs in neighbouring farms. 

‘Aren’t your parents worried about you and Toya-chan?’ he can hear himself question her one night. 

‘My mom is dead and my dad can’t be home often, he works on construction projects around Sapporo. He sends cash to me and Toya-chan, and it isn’t always enough, but he tries his best ’, she answers, her voice feather light. 

‘I’m sorry’, he tells her a little awkwardly, thinking about his happy family and wondering how it’d feel like to have them torn away from him so early on in life. 

‘Don’t be’, she replies, ‘Sometimes I wonder if it’s better to have good parents who’re dead or absent rather than horrible parents who’re still alive’. 

He jolts awake again, relieved to find himself back in his bed. It’s barely four in the morning, but he’s not going to be able to sleep after that, so he resigns himself to using the time to get cracking on his college assignments anyway. But he makes sure to call his mother once day breaks and he’s sure she’s returned from the market with groceries in tow, telling her awkwardly that he’s just calling to catch up and hopes she’s been well and ok bye mum I love you very much, heart pounding when he hangs up abruptly. 

He has a standing appointment on the first Thursday every month to meet Kenma for coffee at a café a stone’s throw away from Waseda. They both order black coffee, which is strange for Kenma considering his legendary sweet tooth, but he knows Kenma too well to know that the ridiculously successful game streamer is only drinking coffee to stay awake, the shadows under his eyes deeper and darker than those under Akaashi’s own eyes.  

‘Doesn’t Kuroo-san nag you go to bed at a decent time?’ 

Kenma doesn’t even bother to flick his eyes up, busy gulping mouthfuls of the bitter liquid. ‘Speak for yourself. Not sleeping well either?’ 

Akaashi shrugs his shoulders helplessly, stirring his coffee. ‘Mm. ‘I’ve been having strange recurring dreams and it’s been affecting my sleep’. 

Kenma merely hums in reply, and Akaashi finds himself spilling out the entire weird series of events – though to be absolutely accurate, his dreams aren’t real so they can’t be termed as events, but they’ve been haunting him for the past month so they might as well be at this rate. He explains about finding himself in the body of a high school girl with curly hair and a dimple on one cheek, how he’s lived her life enough in the past month that he can map out her days with startling certainty, how he knows it’s not real – it can’t be real, but his dreams glimmer with such vibrancy that they feel real. 

‘Am I going crazy?’ he asks. 

‘I highly doubt it’, Kenma says, tapping his chin in thought. ‘Maybe it’s like one of those exploration video games where you have to take your time to discover its world to figure out the narrative the game is feeding you.’ 

Trust Kenma to relate everything to video games. 

‘That was singularly unhelpful’, Akaashi says dryly as Kenma chuckles quietly in response. 

He is almost afraid to fall asleep again but his eyelids are weighed down by weeks’ worth of sleep deprivation and soon he finds himself again in her body. 

It’s a clear winter’s night. He’s huddled under a thick blanket to shield himself from the bitter cold, watching the embers in the hearth glow yellow and gold. 

‘It’s late. Can’t sleep?’ 

‘Mm’ he replies. ‘Wondering what tomorrow will bring.’ 

‘You’re overthinking again, Keiji’, she chuckles. ‘Tomorrow’s going to be just another day. You’ll wake up back in your warm bed at the crack of dawn for volleyball practice, attend classes in your fancy private school, and play even more volleyball with your beloved Bokuto-san’. 

He rolls his eyes heavenwards at her words and her laugh this time is loud, bright. 

‘You know I only speak the truth. Now, since you need to wake up ridiculously early tomorrow, why don’t I tell you a bedtime story so you can fall asleep.’

‘I’m not a child’, he replies dryly, but does not object when she starts to narrate the tale of a princess exiled from the moon, who is raised by a humble woodcutter and his wife to become a renowned beauty, with five suitors seeking her hand. ‘That’s mean of her’, he mumbles as she describes how the princess rebuffs her suitors by setting them impossible tasks, drifts to sleep as her voice softens as she describes how the princess falls in love with the Emperor, but breaks both their hearts because she knows she must return to the moon someday. He’s fast asleep when she reaches the ending where the princess leaves all her memories on earth with tears in her eyes, gifting the emperor with an elixir of immortality which he burns, because he declares life isn’t worth living without her. 

‘Goodnight Keiji’, she says, her voice shimmering in the still night air.   

For the first time in a long while, Akaashi wakes up at peace. 

Taglist: 

@1tooru @animeflower26 @kageyamakock

[avintagekiss24]

Hot for teacher [4] > Bucky Barnes

PAIRING; Dark!Professor!Bucky Barnes x black!reader, Dark!Peter Parker x black!reader

WORD COUNT; 7,973

WARNINGS; Age difference, teacher/student dynamics, spanking, smut, sex, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, mention of blood, slight praise kink, slight crying kink?, overstimulation

SUMMARY; A friend comes to your defense and Bucky finally gives in.

NOTE; Gif credit goes to @/fluturojdallandyshia! I wanna say/reiterate that Cher, reader, and Peter are in their senior/last year of school AND they are all 18 years old. I had a “late” birthday (May), so I turned 18 three weeks before I graduated. My brother had an early birthday (September), so he turned 18 like two weeks into his senior year. Peter, Cher, and reader all have early (August/September) birthdays. Any crap about aging Peter up will be deleted and blocked. You’ve been warned multiple times - if you continue to read after this point, it’s on you.

I also gave reader a last name. Sue me. Hope this lives up to the hype... I’m probably gonna hide for the rest of the night and not look at tumblr for the rest of the night... posting anxiety sucks.

Any mistakes are mine, I was rushing towards the end, lol.

☞ PART FIVE | ☞ SERIES MASTERLIST

You toss your freshly braided hair over your shoulder as you move through the halls towards Bucky’s classroom. You’re actually pretty excited. Sure, you were fuming for most of the day yesterday but after a joint and an appointment with your vibrating boyfriend, your mind cleared. Your mother's words came floating back to you, and you knew what you had to do. Kill ‘em with kindness. After all, healthy competition goes both ways. 

You turn into his room, finding it empty, but the light on. No bother, you just move up the rows and plop down in your seat, pulling out your laptop. You don’t even look up when Cher walks in - late, of course - and sign loudly when she acknowledges you.

“Didn’t realize sucking up started this early.”

“And yet here you are,” you smile quickly, “Late, but here, nevertheless.”

She rolls her eyes, mumbling something about you being a bitch before she sits in her seat. Bucky arrives some minutes later, a cup of coffee in his hand, his glasses low on his nose, “Morning ladies. My apologies, I'm dragging ass today, had to get some coffee.”

You don’t answer. You don’t even look up from your screen as you tap away, finishing up your English paper. You hear the two of them making conversation, flicking your eyes up as Cher moves to the desk, leaning over it to no doubt show off the boob job her father paid for over the summer. Her irritating laughter rings out, but you pay it absolutely no mind until you feel a set of eyes on you within minutes. 

“You’re awfully quiet this morning.” Bucky says, tilting his head as you finally glance up at him from over your screen.

“Good morning Bucky.”

You watch as his jaw twitches slightly and his eyes squint at the sound of his first name. You shift in your seat, dropping your eyes back to your google doc, having to literally stop yourself from grinning. You’ve got him already.

“Bucky?” He questions, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

You click your teeth and scrunch your face as you pretend to be confused, “You did say at the beginning of the year to call you Bucky, yes? Has something changed?”

He scoffs lightly, a confused smirk playing on his lips as he rubs his chin, “I did, yes.” He agrees, shaking his head, “I thought you said you preferred Mr. Barnes.”

You shrug, “Well, I guess I don’t anymore.” You cut your eyes to Cher, who squints back at you, her lip slightly snarled, “If you want to be called Bucky, then I’ll call you Bucky.” You lift your eyes back to his, crossing your legs, “Just like everyone else.”

You drop your eyes back to your Macbook and fill the silence by tapping away at your keyboard again. You feel his eyes on you for a few seconds more before Cher draws his attention with some bullshit question. You stay true to course, never lifting your eyes back to him as he throws random looks at you, trying to get your attention as the class starts to fill up. 

You close your laptop but never really give him your full attention as you usually do as he begins his lecture. You glance out the window, or keep your eyes cast down on your pristine white shoes You gaze at your nails, making a mental note to schedule an appointment. You keep your legs crossed. You don’t engage, you don’t answer any questions, you don’t offer any insight. You just sit there -  like everyone else. 

His eyes are on you the entire hour. He poses questions, but ignores the raised hands for a few moments, waiting for yours to pop up into the air. When it doesn’t, his eyes linger on you for a few beats before he finally calls on someone. His questions get short, his thoughts sort of jumbled as the time dwindles. You smile. This is going to be easier than you thought. 

The bell rings and you fall in line with everyone else, heading towards the door. A hand catches your bicep and you sigh, but you keep your eyes straight ahead. Bucky nods and smiles at a few students before he turns his attention to you.

“You stopping by after class?” He asks gently, “I got something in my pants you might like.”

You smile back at him, cocking your head, “No, I can’t make it today.”

His lips part as his eyes bounce back and forth between yours, “Why not?”

“I have a riding lesson with Mr. Udaku.”

He laughs in disbelief as he runs his hand through his hair, “A riding lesson?” He repeats, “That early in the afternoon?”

“Yes.”

He clears his throat as irritation starts to bubble in his chest, “You gave me your schedule. Wednesday through Friday, six to eight, twice a day Saturday and Sunday.”

You shrug, “Not anymore.”

You take a step from him, but he stops you, grabbing your arm again. You turn towards him, your lips set in a hard line. He looks back at you, crossing his arms over his chest as you refuse to give in.

“Come on,” he says after the last student clears the room, “What is going on?”

“Nothing.” You shrug again as you answer sweetly, “What do you mean?”

“You’ve barely spoken to me today. This isn’t about yesterday, is it?” He probes, wrapping his arms around your waist, “I was just joking. You know you’re my favorite girl.”

You smile. It’s too late for that. You step out of his arms and head for the door as his eyes follow you, “You were absolutely right, Bucky,” you stress, “A little competition is healthy. For everyone.” 

You turn and walk out before he can respond.

----------

You brush down Apollo, your most prized possession as he neighs gently. You shush him, patting him softly on his side before you kiss him on his snout. He shakes his head and you laugh, reaffirming his good boy status just as Cher walks into the stalls. You throw your eyes at her as she stops in her tracks before rebounding quickly and moving to her horse’s stall.

“And just what are you doing here?” She asks.

“Isn’t it obvious? I have a lesson.”

You hear her scoff, “I’m not stupid.”

“You sure about that?” You giggle, rolling your eyes, “I moved my lessons to mirror yours, just so I can crush you everyday of the week. Show you who’s boss.” 

She tuts, batting her big eyes, “You just can’t stand it that Barnes doesn’t want you anymore.”

“Please,” you scoff, “Just the fact that he’s entertaining you, makes me reconsider his intelligence.”

You smile sweetly as you grab Apollo’s reins and start to walk him out of the barn. You lean into her and push some of her blonde hair off of her shoulder, “You fuck with me, I fuck with you. You should have stayed in your place, little girl.”

She slaps your hand away and you laugh before moving out into the field. You place your foot into the stir up and hoist yourself up onto Apollo, adjusting yourself on the saddle. You start a slow trot around the fenced in area, warming him up before you start working the obstacle course. 

Your lesson goes exactly how you thought it would, compliment after compliment from Mr. Udaku, (or T’Challa, as many of his students call him) about your form, your technique, your skill - while Cher struggled to keep up. Pride swells in your chest as you gaze upon her flustered, red face as she rips off her helmet and runs her fingers through her hair.

“Cher, you still need to work on not bouncing as much when you canter, you're still gripping too hard with your legs. Here,” T’Challa says,  “Watch Ms. Prescott.” 

He waves you forward and you start a canter with Apollo, your body moving naturally with his, “See how relaxed she is? You gotta let your legs stay soft. You have to remember to stay aligned with Cotton’s body or you’ll never be a smooth rider. Thank you Ms. Prescott.”

“Not a problem,” you coo sweetly, “I’m always here to help. You have my number Cher, you can text me anytime if you need any pointers.”

She narrows her eyes at you as she exhales hard, “Thank you.” She hisses as sarcasm drips from her words. 

“I mean, now that I’ve switched my schedule, we’ll get to ride together more. I don’t mind showing you the ropes. I know you’ve only started riding a few years ago.” You smile widely, continuing to step on her throat.

“I think that’s a good idea actually,” T’Challa agrees, “There’s no shame in asking for help sometimes Cher. Ms. Prescott’s knowledge and skill set could really help elevate your riding. You know she and Apollo are three time Champions.”

“Going for four,” you smile proudly, “Cher was there, cheering me on for all three of my wins. What did you place last year?” You ask, knowing good and damn well she was disqualified from your skill class.

“Fuck you,” she mouths.

Your smile practically breaks your face in two. Kill ‘em with kindness. You pull Apollo away from T’Challa and Cher, starting another slow trot around the fence. You glance over your shoulder and spot Bucky walking through the grass. You squint slightly, pulling on the reins to slow Apollo to a stop. You’ve never seen him out here before. He must be checking up on you, seeing if you really had a lesson this afternoon. You smile again. Men.

You click your tongue quickly and pat Apollo on his hip, turning him back towards the two teachers. You ride just close enough to hear their conversation but not close enough to where they’d know you’re snooping. You jump Apollo over the hogsback in the center of the arena as their conversation wafts towards you.

“I didn’t know she rode this early in the day, especially on Tuesdays.” You hear Bucky say.

“She usually doesn’t, but she texted me last night wanting to change her schedule to free up her weekends. She wouldn’t tell me why. It’s not like she really needs to practice this hard.”

You glance over at the two of them at the fence and meet Bucky’s gaze. You blink back at him, never one to back down from a staring contest, and quirk your eyebrows up your forehead. He turns his attention back toT’Challa, before he sends his gaze towards Cher. You turn Apollo again, trotting him over to another jump. 

You cut your eyes over your shoulder, watching Bucky shrug, “She’s been my TA for a few weeks. I just thought it was kinda sudden that she couldn’t stop by after class today.”

T’Challa slaps him on the shoulder, “I’m sorry man. Didn’t mean to steal your help away.”

“No, no,” you hear Bucky say before he links his eyes with yours again, “We’re just going to have to share her it seems.” He shakes T’Challa’s hand, “I’ll catch you later, huh?”

You watch as he moves back across the grass, running his hand through his hair as he bows his head. You let Apollo cool down for a few more minutes before you ride him back into the stalls. You brush him down again, before cleaning out his stall and laying down some fresh hay for him. You give him his dinner, feed him a few carrots as a treat for a job well done and rub noses before kissing him again. 

“You’re the only man I can depend on. See you tomorrow baby.”

You remove your gloves as you move out from the back of the barn, jumping slightly and clutching your chest when you come face to face with one Bucky Barnes, “Bucky -”

“Stop calling me that.” He answers sternly, his hands in his pockets, “You switched your riding schedule? Really?”

You shrug definitely, “So I wanted more lessons during the week, shoot me.”

“T’Challa said you don’t even need them. You’re just fucking with me.”

You giggle, “And Cher,” you add, “This isn’t all about you.”

“Can we just knock it off please? I’m sorry, okay? I told you, I was just joking yesterday.” He says with a huff, running his hands through his hair again.

You cross your arms over your chest, a smirk on your face and a sing-song tune in your voice, “But I’m just getting started, Bucky.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“Oh,” you laugh, “It’s a little funny. Look at you all worked up.” You mock, bopping his nose with your index finger, “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

“Hey. Prescott.”

You snap your head back towards the new voice, taking a quick step away from Bucky. You smile as the young Peter Parker leans up against the fence, nodding his head at you, “Peter Parker. How are you?”

“You got a minute?”

Your smile widens, “Of course.”

Bucky grabs your arm again before you step away from him, “I’m not finished talking to you.”

You pull away from him, “Well, I’m finished talking to you.” You state, stepping away from him, “I’ve been involved in competition my whole life, Bucky. I don’t cave and I certainly don’t lose. You wanted a competition, now you got one.” 

You turn on your heel and bounce towards the waiting Peter. He stands up straight, smiling at you again but keeps his eyes on Bucky as he walks off. Once you’re close enough, he nods towards him, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You wave it off, “No interruption. I don’t see you out here much.”

“Nah, I came by to see you. I think we can help each other out.”

“God,” you roll your eyes playfully, “You read my mind. I smoked my last joint last night.”

“Not with that,” he laughs, “Well, I can help you with that too, but I have something else in mind.”

You raise your eyebrows, intrigued with him, “Oh?”

“Word’s getting around that you and Cher are battling over Barnes.” You shoot your eyes towards him, “You know she’s got a big mouth.”

“Fuck,” you mutter.

“Don’t worry. Everybody here has something on them, nobody is gonna snitch for fear of it coming back on them ten times over.” He says slowly, scrunching his face slightly as he faces the sun, “That’s what I thought I could help you with.”

You cross your arms as you glance around the deserted area, “How’s that?”

“You know Cher and I fucked around for a while late last semester, right before summer. Turns out, the fucking bitch burned me.”

“Ugh,” you grimace, “You’re kidding?”

“No. My parents intercepted the test results. That’s why my ass has been on lock down. Plus, I had to be on a fucking regimen of antibiotics to get rid of the shit. Killed my fucking game for the summer, man.”

You giggle a little, bumping your shoulder with his, “Sorry to hear it, but what exactly does that have to do with me, Parker?”

“It would kill her if we hooked up,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, “Barnes too. He hates me.”

You inhale deeply as your lips curl into another devilish smile, “I didn’t know you had Barnes.”

“I have him in the afternoon. He busts my balls over every little fucking thing.” He rolls his eyes, “Cher is absolutely obsessed with you, it would drive her nuts. It’s the best revenge that I can get and I know you love making her feel second best.”

“It gives me great joy, actually.” You watch as Peter laughs, “Alright Parker, you got yourself a deal, but we need to draw some lines.”

“Okay,” he nods, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Lay ‘em out.”

“I don’t,” you start, clearing your throat, “I haven’t fucked-fucked yet and I'd like to keep it that way.”

“Saving it for Barnes?” He teases.

“Fuck you,” you giggle, “Make outs, blow jobs, heavy petting… whatever, I’m down with all of that, just no fucking. Deal?”

He holds out his hand and you take it, shaking it to make it official, “A woman confident in her sexuality. I love it.” He pecks you on the cheek before he starts to walk off, “It’ll be a pleasure doing business with you.” He calls.

“Same to you, Parker.” You smile, “Same to you.”

----------

You and Peter keep your newfound “romance” on the low for the next few days, as not to arouse any sudden suspicions. You continue to show up to Bucky’s class a half hour early (always making it in before Cher) and completely ignore him. You catch up on homework, you read, you paint your nails. Your nonchalant attitude towards him has continued to get under his skin, as his frustration and irritation has bled over into his lectures. Everyone picks up on his attitude, even Cher, now also receiving a cold shoulder from him in the mornings and afternoons. 

You and Peter decide to start your attack bright and early Monday morning. You meet up in the parking lot, hanging out next to his car, laughing and joking with a few of his baseball teammates. You walk in around seven fifty, twenty minutes after Bucky has been expecting you, hand in hand. Peter throws his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his body as the two of you make your way through the halls. 

You pass by the open door of Bucky’s room and Peter stops purposefully in front of it as he calls for one of his friends down the hall. You glance into the room, but quickly cut your eyes away as you find Bucky and Cher gaping out at the two of you - Cher practically flipping over her desk she’s leaning so far forward. You and Peter push forward out of sight and you lean against the lockers, pulling him into you.

You kiss him hard, making him moan in surprise at first but he quickly follows suit. You smack your lips on his a few times before he pulls away, resting his forehead to yours as he drags his finger down your now swollen lips. The two of you whisper back and forth, smiling and giggling all the while before he leans into you again, capturing your lips. 

A throat clears loudly from beside the two of you, but you both ignore it, continuing to giggle and kiss as if you don’t hear a thing.

“Guys,” you hear Bucky sigh, “Break it up.”

“Oh, Mr. Barnes,” Peter laughs, wrapping his fingers around your neck softly - possessively, “Shit, man. Sorry about that. Didn’t even hear you, did you babe?”

You shake your head, “Nope. Sorry Bucky.” You peck Peter on his lips again before reaching up to wipe away the excess lip gloss you left behind, “You’ll walk me to my next class, yes?”

He winks at you before dipping back into you to kiss you once, twice, three more times, causing Bucky to speak up again.

“Guys, I mean it. You aren’t on a beach somewhere and you need to watch your mouth, Parker.” He sighs loudly, “Ms. Prescott, your seat please.”

You roll your eyes and push away from the lockers, you and Peter linking hands and extending your arms as you both walk in different directions.

“I’ll be right here after class babe.” He says, winking again.

“Ms. Prescott.” Bucky barks before pushing a hot breath out of his nose.

When your hands actually come undone, you wiggle your fingers at him before tossing your braids over your shoulder and push past the verklempt Bucky. You step past Cher, and she grabs your wrist, pulling you down into her.

“So you want my sloppy seconds all of a sudden?”

“Sloppy seconds?” You repeat, laughing lightly as you tilt your head, “Sweetie, it’s the restaurant metaphor all over again. Peter moved on from a bug infested pizza parlor to a clean five star restaurant. You’re still the sloppy one here.” You wink. 

You revel in Bucky’s anger for the entire hour. He continuously cuts his eyes towards you, now dark and brooding, but you smirk back and drop your eyes to your book, not giving him the satisfaction. Your legs stay crossed and your panties stay dry - much to his chagrin. Peter is right there by the door as soon as the bell rings. The two of you intertwine your fingers and swing them back and forth as you walk down the hall, two pairs of eyes on you all the while. 

“Mr. Barnes, I-”

“Not now, Cher.” Bucky bites back, running his hand through his hair again quickly before he damn near shoves her out of the classroom, slamming the door.

----------

You pull your next stunt in the library a few days later. It’s a study period, so there’s a few more teachers and students loitering around than usual - Bucky just happens to be one of the loiterers. Peter pulls you through the bookshelves by the tips of your fingers, finding the perfect position for the two of you to be aligned within Bucky’s eyesight. 

He’s perched at a table, his glasses low on his nose as he scribbles into his notebook before returning his gaze to the thick book just off to this left. Peter pushes you up against one of the bookshelves, jarring a few of the books loose from their spots and sending them crashing to the floor. You laugh, and Peter covers your mouth with his hand as he leans in and kisses your neck. His other hand snakes up between your thighs and pushes into your skirt, his fingertips brushing along your sex.

You push your chest into his and sink your teeth into your bottom lip as your hooded eyes flick towards Bucky. His jaw is tensed as he stares back at you. His lips are set in a hard, thin line, his face flushed red as his chest rises and falls harder than before. He falls back into his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, almost daring you to keep going - to keep pushing him. 

You dig one of your hands into Peter’s hair, pulling softly and hissing when his teeth sink into the fleshy crook of your neck. You push your hips into his fingers as he teases your clit with light, soft strokes. He licks a slow path up your neck and chin before he kisses you deeply and pulls you suddenly out of Bucky’s sight. 

“This is fun,” he laughs against your mouth, kissing you again as he squeezes your hip.

You giggle in return, tilting your head up towards the ceiling, silently asking him to continue. He obliges, and starts sucking on your skin again, pushing his hand back between your thighs. He slips his fingers underneath your panties and moans when the slickness of your sex coats his fingers. You let out a small moan as your hips move with his fingers. You grab his free hand and push it to your left breast, helping him to grab a handful of you. 

You gasp suddenly when Peter’s fingers push inside of you. You laugh again but spread your legs instinctively, raising one slightly to rub his calf. You feel him laugh against you as his fingers pump softly, his palm rubbing against your clit. 

“Fuck, Peter,” you say softly, pushing your body into his again as he finger fucks you up against the wall of books. 

You roll your head and jump when those familiar blue eyes are on you again, this time just on the other side of the bookshelf in front of you. Your mouth falls open as you stare back at him over the tops of the books. He slides a book off of the shelf, removing his eyes from yours to flip through the pages before he slides his angry eyes back to yours. He runs his eyes along Peter’s body, then halts at his hand as it pumps into you. 

You snarl your lip as a pang of excitement flashes through you. You’ve never been watched like this before - it’s kinda fun. You keep your eyes on Bucky’s as Peter’s hand quickens inside of you, his palm beating against your clit. You bite down into your bottom lip as you rest your chin on his shoulder, your head falling forward as your orgasm starts to build. 

“Shit,” you whine, your breath growing ragged as your hips pulse with the pace of his fingers. 

You lift your leg a little higher as the lust in your stomach starts to flood through your veins. You wrap your arms around his neck and ball his t-shirt into your hands, struggling to keep your eyes open as Bucky peers on. You watch as he runs his tongue over his teeth, blinking at you slowly, anger brimming just below his surface. He doesn’t shy away though, he doesn’t walk off, he doesn’t lash out, he just flips aimlessly through the random book he picked up as he watches as you come all over Peter’s fingers.

You slam your eyes shut at your orgasm rips through you. Peter moans as he slams his fingers into your wet, tight muscles. His free hand creeps back up to your face and covers your mouth, stifling the squeaks and squeals that dribble from your lips. Peter crushes you to the bookshelf with his weight, chuckling as he nips at your chin and neck. You keep your bottom lip between your teeth as you smirk at Bucky. You wanted a competition, now you got one. 

Peter pulls out his phone and lifts it into the air, hitting record as you still lean up against the bookshelf, still panting and giggly as your body floats on cloud nine. He smiles slowly into the camera, before leaning in and kissing you deeply, his tongue skimming along the roof of your mouth before it slides along yours. He situates your panties and skirt, like the gentleman he is, before he tugs at your wrist to pull you out from between the aisles. 

When he clears the bookshelves, he stops suddenly when he locks eyes with Bucky just on the other side. He nods his head towards him, before shoving his wet fingers into his mouth. He licks them clean before he pulls them out with a soft pop and  glances back into his camera, throwing a wink it’s way. The two of you waltz out of the library, smiles on both of your faces. You hear Peter’s phone as it starts to sound, ding after ding after ding as a quick flurry of text messages slide through. 

He pulls it out and snorts before he tilts it towards you, Cher’s name flashing across it as a call comes through.

“This is going tremendously.” He smiles, declining the call and sliding the sleek phone back into his pocket.

----------

You glance down at your watch as you whistle slowly; 8:06am. You’re now officially late to Bucky’s class, and officially late for the first time in over four years. You turn down his hallway, scrolling through your tumblr as you come to his closed door. You push through and feel the eyes of the entire class on you as you waltz in without a care in the world. Bucky’s lecture comes to a halt as he slides his eyes with you as you pick your way through the seats to find yours.

You sit, taking your time as you pull out your notebook and pen while everyone watches, just as surprised as Bucky that you’re late. You take a deep breath and expel it calmly as you finally glance up at him.

“Good morning.” You say cheerfully. 

He crosses his arms over his chest and licks his lips slowly, “You’re late.”

“Oh,” you sigh a little, glancing at your watch, “Sorry about that.”

“We had a deal at the beginning of the semester.” He says, his voice deep.

You cross your legs and swing your foot lightly, “Did we?”

He narrows his eyes at you as he pulls his glasses off of his face, “Should I remind you?”

“Please.” You nod, “It’s slipped my mind.”

He nods slowly, starting to pace, “You wanted me to hold you personally responsible if you were ever late.”

You squint your eyes as you tilt your chin towards the ceiling, pretending to rack your brain, “That’s right, I did. That little check mark next to my name on the attendance sheet is gonna hurt.”

“Oh no,” He chuckles as you challenge him so openly, “You wanted to be held responsible. A little check mark isn’t going to do that.”

You smirk, “So what’ll it be, Bucky?”

“Detention.”

Your face drops. Detention? Detention? For one fucking tardy?! “Detention?” you repeat, sitting up a little straighter in your seat, “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

He turns back to face you, leaning back on his desk as he kicks his legs out in front of him. He shrugs, shaking his head, “You asked for it.”

“You’re joking,” you laugh, your mind starting to race, “A detention for being late one time? Have you handed out a detention to anyone else?”

He shrugs, “Nope. But you’re not everyone else, are you?”

You squint your eyes at him as he smirks back. This is the only way he could get back at you - to tarnish your perfect record. Your body flushes with heat - you honestly didn’t expect this. This… this is below the belt. You’d figured that he’s been so out of sorts that he’d just slap you on the wrist and beg to see him after class. You’d trade barbs back and forth, he’d eat your pussy and the two of you would be right back on track, like this never happened. But this?

“I’m getting you ready for real life. That’s what you wanted me to do, isn’t it?”

A chorus of oooh’s ring out from the rest of the class as you throw your braids over your shoulder angrily, “I have a riding lesson at three twenty five today.”

“I’ll talk to T’Challa if you’d like me to.”

You laugh sarcastically, “This is ridiculous. This’ll go on my record, you realize that?”

He shrugs again as he pushes away from his desk, “Maybe you should have thought about that. Now,” he smiles, turning his attention back to the rest of the class,  “Where were we?”

He completely turns the tables on you after that. He ignores you for the rest of his lecture. His mood lightens considerably. He cracks jokes, he banters with other classmates as you stew in your anger. When class is over, he holds out your detention slip between his fingers, which you snatch and crumple up in your hand as you pass by without so much as a glance in his direction. 

Asshole.

The final bell of the day rings hours later and you start the trek towards Dr. Banner’s room, the resident detention monitor. He’s surprised to see you and gives you a reassuring smile as you head to the back of the room, plopping down in one of the desks. You catch Mitchell Bryant, the fifth year senior and fuck up extraordinaire, smirking at you and roll your eyes deeply before shifting in your seat to block him from your line of vision. 

You busy yourself with your trigonometry homework, actually getting into it within a few minutes. The door opens and you flip your eyes towards it, doing a double take when you spot Bucky walking in. He smiles at Dr. Banner, leaning into his desk and muttering something before he heads back to the door. 

“Ms. Prescott?” He calls,  “Grab your stuff and come with me please.”

You cock your head as your eyes instantly narrow at him. You take a deep breath, but stand and collect your things. You walk out into the hallway, finding him waiting for you, “Yes?” you ask, your tone flat and irritated.

He doesn’t answer, he just points forward and waits for you to start walking. You roll your eyes but ultimately obey, your feet carrying you back to his classroom. He enters a few steps behind you, closing the door softly before he flips the lock. 

You spin on your heel to face him as your bag hangs off of your shoulder, “What is it, Bucky?”

“Drop your bag. Put your hands flat on the desk.”

His voice is deep and eerily calm. Your lips part and your eyes widen a little as you stand in your spot. He cocks his head when you still don’t move, “Did you not hear what I said? Hands flat on the desk. Now.”

You drop your bag from your shoulder and move to his desk, flattening your palms on the top of it. You’ve never heard him like this before - so stern. You swallow hard as your eyes dart around the chalkboard in front of you. You feel his presence behind you, hearing the material of his tie rubbing against his shirt as he loosens it, before pulling it from around his neck. 

You jump when he slaps lightly at the insides of your thighs, “Open sesame.”

You spread your legs wider as his fingertips brush along your soft skin. His hand slides up your spine slowly and pushes you forward until your chest is resting flush against his desk. Your breath becomes audible as he pushes his hips into your ass, making you gasp when you feel his hard on pressing into your flesh. 

He grabs your right wrist, bending your arm to place your hand in the small of your back before he reaches for the left. You then feel the soft silk of his tie as it wraps around your wrists, looping around them both before he ties it tightly into a nice, firm knot. Without warning, he bucks into your ass, jolting you forward as you gasp loudly again. 

“You are one smart cookie, Ms. Prescott.” He says softly, running his hands along your hips and ass, “I underestimated you.”

“Mental warfare is my specialty.”

You bite your lip as your body starts to warm from his touch. A moan escapes you as he rucks your skirt up around your hips and groans at the sight of your sheer, pink panties. You close your eyes as his fingers dance along your plump ass, cupping it in both of his large palms and jiggling it gently.

“Nervous?”

You shake your head definitely, “Of course not.”

“Never one to show weakness, huh? I like that.”

You let out a sharp scream when a hard slap is suddenly leveled to your behind. Your body tightens as you pull against the tie wrapped around your wrists. He spanks you twice again in quick succession and you slam your eyes closed as you squeal and squirm underneath him. He pushes his hand back between your legs, his fingers brushing along the sudden, new wet spot on your panties. Goddamn him.

“I’ve gotta give it to you, Prescott,” he says softly as his fingers push underneath your panties and slip through your wet folds, “You had me going. I was jealous.”

You hiss as you roll your hips into his hand, “I told you Bucky - “

He spanks you again, the sound of his flesh meeting yours bouncing off of the chalkboard, “That’s not my name.”

“Fuck!” You mewl as the sting radiates through you, but you don’t give in. Not quite yet.

“What were you saying, darling?” He coos as his fingers travel to your hips and dig underneath the thin band of your panties.

He pulls them down slowly, slipping them over your feet. You hear him inhale deeply seconds later before his fingers slip through your folds again. Your mouth drops open as he plays with your clit, drawing slow circles around it before he pushes two of his thick fingers into you. His thumb pushes between your ass cheeks and flattens against your tight hole, applying a slight pressure as he starts to pump his fingers slowly. 

“Did you have fun with the young Peter Parker?” He asks, pushing his hips flush to your behind, “Hmm? Did he make you feel good?”

You whimper as his fingers curl inside of you, his thumb pushing just inside. When you don’t answer fast enough, he spanks you again, making you squeal loudly. He pushes his thumb further and you squeeze your muscles as tight as you can as you tilt your head towards the ceiling, relishing in the electricity bouncing through you. His fingers push deeper in your pussy and you growl as you run your tongue over your teeth. 

“Yes.” You hiss, the smart ass in you still winning out, “You were there, Bucky. You saw how good he made me feel.”

He chuckles deeply, removing his fingers from you before he pulls you up into a standing position. He turns you around  to face him and picks you up, sitting you gently on top of his desk. He stays nose to nose with you, his eyes bouncing around your face as he smirks. He lifts his fingers to your mouth, smoothing your wetness over your bottom lip. 

You lick your lip slowly before you suck it into your mouth, blinking up at him slowly as you swallow your taste. He kisses you hard, wrapping his hands around your neck and pulling you into him as his tongue bursts into your mouth. You moan, letting your head fall back into his hands as you accept him, sucking on his tongue as you pull lightly against the tie still around your wrists. 

He pulls back slowly, pulling your bottom lip with him before he lets go. He tilts his head as his fingers drop to the buttons on your shirt, popping them one by one until it falls open. He flips his eyes back to yours as he starts undoing his pants, letting them slightly  fall down his hips. You bite your lip as you watch him push his hand into his black boxer briefs, stroking himself. He pulls his dick free and you inhale deeply, your eyes growing wide as he springs out from behind the stretchy material. 

“That little prick couldn’t satisfy you.” He says quietly, “Not like I can, baby girl. I’m a grown man.”

Your mouth falls open as he pushes the tip of his dick along your throbbing clit and through your folds. He pushes your legs open wider, wrapping your right limb around his hip. He pushes at your slit, positioning himself right at your opening. 

“What’s my name baby?”

You bite your bottom lip again as your lips start to curl into a smile. You bat your eyes at him but shake your head - not giving an inch. 

He smiles back at you, “You are stubborn as all fucking hell.”

“You started it.”

“I suppose I did,” He laughs, leaning in to kiss you softly, “You’re my perfect little princess.” He says, “You always were, you always will be.”

“And?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, cupping your face in his hands, “Don’t be mad at me anymore.”

You breathe in confidently, pushing it out of your nose as pride swells in your chest. You never cave. You never lose, “Apology accepted.”

“Good. Can I fuck you now?”

You nod slowly, “Of course you can, Mr. Barnes.”

He bites your lips and growls at the sound of his name tripping off your tongue with such ease. He grabs his shaft, slipping the head of his cock through your folds again before he stops at your slit. He wraps his other arm around your waist and starts to push slowly, breaking into your tight canal. You squeak as your muscles spread for his flesh for the first time, hissing as a delicious pain courses through you. 

His mouth drops open as he watches you swallow him. He pushes a focused breath out of his mouth as he pushes until he completely disappears inside of you. A tear slips down your cheek as he pulls out and slides back in. You dig your nails into his desk as you adjust your hips - the pain and the pleasure of it all mixing and melting together into a perfect harmony. 

You moan loudly as he fucks you nice and slow. He pushes his fingers to your clit and rubs quick circles against it as he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, his eyes hooded as he watches you squirm and writhe.

“This is what a real man feels like,” he says softly, digging his fingertips into your hip as he fucks you, “Do I feel good, baby?”

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly, tears streaming down your face, “You feel so good.”

“Mmm,” he grunts, “You are such a good girl. You’re taking me so well.”

Your head swims as he praises you, stroking your ego, making you clench around him. His hips start to move faster as his hands run up and down your thighs, gripping and kneading your flesh. His fingers roam up to your breasts, pushing into your bra to tease your thick nipples, adding a new sensation to the mix. He drops his right hand back between your legs, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit and starts to rub again, his other fingers still pulling and flicking at your aroused buds. 

Your hips jerk without warning, pushing his cock into you deeper, pulling a guttural scream out of you. Your eyes continue to leak as your head spins and your body tightens and flexes. A shutter runs up your spine, your thighs shake. You tighten them around his waist and try to grip the desk below you as a dull ache sits in the pit of your stomach. 

He fucks into you faster - recognizing that you’re starting to come undone as he overloads your senses. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, pinching and pulling as he continues to rub your clit and pump his hips into yours.

“You gonna come for me?” He starts to coax softly, “Hmm? Is my girl gonna come?”

My girl. Your brain can’t even form a coherent sentence. You’re nothing but sensation as he pushes you right to the edge of the cliff. His strokes get harder, his fingers faster as he rests his forehead to yours. He leaves your nipple to wrap his hand around your throat. His hot breath washes over your face as he kisses you quickly.

“I want my girl to come. Come for me, baby. Give it to me, I want to own you.”

You grunt as your eyes start to roll. He fucks into you as your toes curl with each of his strokes, pushing, pushing, pushing, until he tips you right over the edge. You mewl into the empty room as your orgasm floods through every vein, every muscle, every sensor in your body. He loses his control - pounding into you as hard as he can as your pussy quivers around him.

Your clit jumps with contractions as you tighten your legs around his hips. He coaxes you on, whispering sweet nothings as wave after wave crashes against you. His grunts grow louder and more erratic, his hips faltering every now and again until you feel a sudden warmth burst into you. He hisses as he spurts long, hot ribbons into your cunt over and over again. 

He nearly collapses - having to slam his palm to the top of his desk to hold himself up. His breaths are deep and ragged as his head falls to your shoulder. He leans back after a minute and tilts his head towards the ceiling as he focuses on his breathing, pushing them in and out slow and evenly. 

“Fuck,” he lets out as a laugh rumbles through his chest, “Goddamn.”

He reaches around and unties your wrists before pulling you up into his arms. You throw your arms around his neck and let him wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you around his desk and sits in his chair. He curls you into him, wrapping you up in his warm arms before he sweeps your braids over your shoulder. He kisses your forehead and the top of your head as he strokes your spine gently. 

“You are so pretty when you cry.” He says gently, smiling at you, “My perfect little girl.”

You still can’t talk. You just smile as you nuzzle into him, blinking down at your thighs, a small amount of blood splashed on your skin.

“Can you cancel your riding lessons tomorrow and Sunday?” he asks after a few minutes.

You nod slowly, “Why?”

“I want you all to myself.” He says, pushing his knuckle into your chin to tilt your head up towards his, “I want you to pack a bag for the weekend. I’ll text you my address, okay?”

“Okay.” You say simply. 

“Okay.” He smiles, kissing you again, “Come on, let's get moving.”

You reluctantly climb out of his lap and start to arrange your clothing properly, buttoning up your shirt and smoothing your skirt back down on your hips. Your legs are shaky, your pussy and clit sore, but you’ve never felt better. He grabs your bag and places it on your shoulder as the two of you move to the door. When he opens it, the two of you come face to face with one Cher Goodwin, her hand still in the air as she was just about to knock.

Her lips part as she stares at you, before flicking her eyes towards Bucky, “I thought you had detention.”

You shrug, “You thought wrong.”

She slides her eyes down your frame, squinting as she looks you over. Her face drops as the realization floods through her. Your smile widens. She doesn’t even have to ask.  She runs her hand through her hair roughly as she takes a deep breath, letting the dread of knowing she’s lost again flush through her. She’s come up just short - second place, once again. 

“Cher,” Mr. Barnes starts, “I’m sorry. Something came up, I’m not gonna be able to stick around this afternoon.”

She scoffs, clicking her teeth as she crosses her arms over her chest, “Mr. Barnes, I - “

“I’m sorry,” he cuts her off, “You know, I can get you a couple of names of some really great tutors that can give you all the attention you need. Okay?”

She runs her tongue over her teeth as she stares off into the distance, laughing slightly, “Sure, yeah. Whatever.” 

Bucky pushes past her and out into the hallway, “I’ll have them for you Monday morning, okay? I’m sorry ladies, I gotta split. Have a good weekend. Thanks for all your help Ms. Prescott.”

You smile at her as he moves down the hallway, “Oh, Cher.” You laugh, “Poor thing.”

“I’ll fucking get you.” She sneers, “One of these goddamn days, I will win! I will fucking beat you!” You shouts, stomping her foot.

You nudge her chin with your fist, “It’s cute you still believe that. The only thing you’ll ever have over me, is knowing how second place feels.” You brush past her shoulder as a frustrated tear slips down her cheek.

“Oh,” you say happily, turning back on your heel to face her, “I forgot to tell you. T’Challa signed Apollo and I up for the relay competition on Wednesday. You’re participating in that too, right?” You wink, watching as her eyes fill with dread, “See you there.”

You throw your hand into the air as you walk away from her, wiggling your fingers, “Tootles, darling.”

[keanureevesisbae]

Coach Cavill - Chapter 7

Summary: Amelia is about to go on her first date with coach Cavill

Coach!Henry Cavill x Amelia Jung (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: None

A/N: To celebrate the fact that I am done with school for a while, I thought I’d post (part one of) their date with you! I hope you like it 💕 please let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

Within an hour I had to dress up to look splendid that Friday, because I didn’t want Dean to see how beautiful I was going to look. Maybe the stress dressing up under sixty minutes also had to do with the poor state of my planning today, but we are simply going to ignore that.

The entire week I have been looking forward to this. During the training yesterday, Henry kept stealing glances from me, after he made me a wonderful cup of cappuccino. It’s weird really, how head over heels I’m becoming, in just a matter of a little more than a week.

While everything Dean was exciting and somehow terrifying, since he was mysterious and a little hard to get, this instant connection I have with Henry feels so safe and familiar. I can’t stop thinking about him, to a point where Ricky, Annabelle and the rest of the little ones in my class kept asking me if I was doing okay. However, they figured out pretty soon I was a bit in love and now they continue to make kissy sounds during the day.

‘You look fucking hot,’ Eve says, as she brushes through my hair. ‘Lucky mister Henry Cavill.’

‘Is it too much?’ I ask, as I smooth down my tight dark blue dress, that Isabella insisted on me wearing and it’s a good fit: I mean, it accentuates the few curves I have. I look down at the matching high heels and sigh deeply. ‘It’s too much,’ I conclude.

‘No, honey, it’s not too much. You look beautiful and I know that Henry will think so too. Besides, he is already smitten with you, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about.’

I let out a sigh again. ‘It’s just that I’m nervous. How long has it been since I had my last first date?’

‘When you were nineteen,’ Eve answers my rhetorical question. ‘I know that, but that went well too and since Henry is an absolute angel, this date will go without a hitch, I can guarentee. And besides, you have done things much more terrifying than this. You went to South Korea, debuted in a girl group. A full one eighty in career choices when you got here, went on a date with the mysterious hottie Dean, somehow made that work. Plus, you were a total bad ass and gave birth to Isabella on your own, who was breeched.’

I roll my eyes. ‘I highly doubt you can compare giving birth to a first date.’

‘What I want to make clear to you, is that you are fierce and awesome and Henry knows that too.’ Eve and I both yelp when the doorbell rings. ‘Your future husband is here.’

‘Shut up,’ I say, as we walk down the stairs. She stuffs something in my clutch and hands it to me. ‘What on earth did you put in here?’ I hiss, as I grab my coat from the rack.

‘A condom.’

I halt all my movements. ‘You did what?’

‘Better to be safe than sorry.’

Before I can tell her off and that I’m really not going to have sex with Henry on the first date, she pushes me to the door and I quickly put on my coat, before I open the door.

I’m hit with the realization that I’m going on a date with the most beautiful man on this planet. He looks illegally handsome, with his nice suit jacket hanging open, that matches with his black pants. He is wearing a white blouse, nicely tucked into his pants and the tease has the two top buttons open and the sight of his chest (and the chest hair) is making my mouth dry.

‘Wow,’ he says with a beautiful smile, ‘you look beautiful, Amelia.’

This is going to kill me. How am I supposed to survive this entire night? ‘It’s not too much?’ I ask, just to be sure and first date jitters taking the upper hand.

He shakes his head. ‘This is exactly right.’

I turn to Eve, who is holding in a squeal. After being friends with her for so long, I know every facial expression. ‘Only call me if it is a matter of life or death,’ I tell her.

‘Have I ever called you when it was not important?’ I cock an eyebrow and she nods. ‘Right, I have done that before. I’m sorry. Won’t do it tonight, promise.’

‘Very good. Please, don’t wait up and don’t sit on the front porch with the twins, because I know you three want to do that.’

Eve slaps me on my ass, before I step out of the house and I sincerely hope that Henry hasn’t seen that. From the looks of it seems like he hasn’t seen that, but maybe he is just polite and doesn’t show me he has seen it. ‘Don’t look back,’ I tell Henry, as we walk towards his truck. ‘She’ll embarrass either one of us if we do so.’

Henry can’t help but laugh and he opens the door of his truck. ‘Do I have to give you a boost or can you manage?’

‘Oh shut up,’ I chuckle as I get in the car, after I took his hand. ‘Because I’m short, I have developed cat woman like skills. You should see me in the classroom, when I have to grab something from the top shelf.’

‘I’ll believe that right away.’ He closes the door and I wave to Eve, who nods approvingly and gestures something about how firm his butt looks. I mean, I can only agree to that, but once again, sure as hell hope he hasn’t seen any of that.

Henry gets in the truck and before he puts the key in the ignition, he looks to the side, meeting my eyes. ‘What?’ I ask him.

‘You look breathtaking,’ he whispers, almost as if he doesn’t want me to hear this compliment.

I’m at a loss for words. ‘Oh,’ I manage to choke out. ‘Thanks…’

He clears his throat. ‘I’m just a little nervous.’

‘What? Why? If someone should be nervous, it’s me. One, I’m going on a date with you and two, my last first date was sixteen years ago.’

He chuckles, but he sounds really nervous. ‘Well, mine might’ve not been that long ago… But I have never been on a date with someone like you.’

‘Do you mean that in a good way or…?’

Henry’s eyes widen. ‘In a good way, of course,’ he hastily says. ‘It’s more that you are way out of my league.’

What? ‘I think I was hallucinating. What?’

‘I mean, have you even seen yourself? You are admirable, in any way.’

Is this how it feels when your heart not only is figuratively melting, but also literally? ‘Oh.’

‘You are truly one of a kind, Amelia and I sure hope I meet up to what you deserve.’

Okay, I’m officially blanking. What are words?

Henry smiles and starts the car. ‘I hope you like the place I booked. I heard some pretty good things about it.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Leave it to Henry fucking Cavill to not only book a spot at my favorite restaurant here in town, but also to have a secluded spot that I didn’t know was here. We sit on the patio, a heater pointed at us to keep us warm, as we look over the lake. We are surrounded by romantic Christmas lights, as we sit next to each other on the soft couch. His arm is resting on the back, his thumb softly drawing circles on my shoulder.

He hands me a glass of wine and I can’t help but melt a bit against his frame. ‘You did amazing,’ I say. ‘I really like this spot. I never even knew it was here. How did you discover this?’

‘I might’ve had some help from Greg.’

‘Convenient store Greg?’ I ask. ‘You two becoming friends?’

‘Yeah, I’m there quite a lot. He sometimes watches Kal when I’m not home for too long of a time. Annabelle constantly tells him that she loves Kal, so that’s a plus.’

‘Annabelle is in my class,’ I say. ‘A true angel. A cheeky one, but she is such a delight to have in class.’

Henry smiles, taking a sip of his wine. We’re still waiting for our food to arrive, but the wine will do just fine for now. ‘It’s quite the one eighty, to go from a K-Pop idol to a kindergarten teacher.’

‘Oh, you have no idea,’ I chuckle. ‘It was so weird, to go from that hectic world, fans screaming your name, photoshoot here, there, dance practice and just never not busy, back to Luna Meadows, where every second seems to tick at least three times. I had to spend three months in the barn in the back of my parents yard, to simply talk with Eve and Johnny, getting used to this pace again. It was nice to be back here though, since this will always be my home.’

He nods. ‘So, you come back to Luna Meadows when you were eighteen, go back to college and…’

‘And I met Dean, when I was nineteen, was twenty one when I had Benji, somehow got my degree and after I graduated, I married Dean.’

‘Wow,’ he says. ‘That is top tier multitasking.’

‘That’s what I thought so,’ I chuckle, taking a sip of my wine. ‘It was really important for me to finish college, because, I wanted to be able to provide for myself and even after I graduated, I worked three days a week. I’m not equipped to be a full-time house wife. I tried that for two months and then I became mad.’

Henry laughs. ‘And now you work full-time.’

‘I do, indeed. It’s the only way I can continue to pay for the house. I don’t want to move away from Eve and her baby sit service.’

He nods in agreement. ‘You are very lucky to have friends that care so much and do so much for you.’

‘I sure am,’ I say with a smile. I take another sip, before I ask: ‘What about you? Why did you leave Jersey to move here?’

‘I was a judo coach there and worked in a cafe. However, some family stuff happened and I had to get out of there.’ Henry clears his throat and shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, no, you don’t want to talk about it, I totally understand it. Just, tell me how you got into judo then.’ I turn a bit to the side and oh my, I can feel his strong body against mine, but weirdly enough it doesn’t make me nervous anymore.

‘Oh, that was something me and my grandpa had together. All of my brothers were into team sports, like lacrosse, football and rugby.’

My eyes widen. ‘You have brothers?’

‘Mhm, four,’ he says.

‘Your mom had five kids?’ I ask him.

He can’t stop his laugh. ‘She did.’

‘Mad respect,’ I say. ‘I don’t want to be too TMI, but I had to recover six years after I had Benji before I even thought about adding another one. Not the point, Amelia,’ I quickly realize letting out a soft chuckle. ‘Your brothers were into team sports.’

Henry nods, a smile evident on his lips. ‘My entire family was obsessed with everything team sport related, including us as a family. I liked to do things solo, just like my granddad and that’s how judo became our thing. My family supported me and judo, of course, but… I knew they didn’t really like the sport as much as my granddad and I liked it. When I was twenty, I was actually doing pretty well. Competing in national tournaments, even some international ones.’

I frown. ‘Why do I feel a however coming up?’ I ask him.

He snickers. ‘However, I broke my leg in three places when I was in the gym.’

‘Oh no,’ I say, as I shiver.

‘Yeah, it was pretty bad,’ he chuckles. ‘But judo was my life and I couldn’t just let it go, so I started to work as a trainer and coach, but I didn’t make enough money to provide for myself, so I also worked in a cafe.’

I nod. ‘And why did you choose Luna Meadows?’

He shrugs. ‘It just felt right. And that’s where I met the most amazing judoka I have ever seen. Benji is miles ahead of not only everyone here, but also to everyone I have ever encountered.’

‘Including you?’

‘Including me,’ he laughs. ‘He is amazing.’

‘That’s because he has some judo genes from his amazing mother,’ I chuckle, as I throw my hair over my shoulder. ‘I was quite something back in the days.’

He chuckles. ‘So, what does Isabella do?’

‘She is in a drama club. When she was younger, she would force Benji, Yara, Jake and Lola to be side characters in a play she made up, where she was the main character. She is overly dramatic and I figured that I would do the other kids a favor if I would put her in a drama club. Yara and she go every Tuesday, Wednesday and Sunday after school with Eve.’

‘It must be amazing to have a friend this close living to you.’

‘It does,’ I say, as I stare at my wine. ‘Made the whole divorce thing a whole lot better to handle.’

‘I imagine. Divorce is never easy.’

‘Experience or…?’ I carefully ask.

‘I was married,’ he says, ‘but the second we said ‘I do’, it was already a lost cause, really. Actually, we never really fit together.’

I take a sip of my wine, but I place my other hand on his strong leg. Normally I wouldn’t be this forward, but it feels so warm and comfortable. ‘Is she part of the reason that you had to leave Jersey?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, we were married from my twenty fifth to my twenty seventh.’

Okay, he doesn’t want to continue to talk about it and for some reason I can’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth. ‘You know, I never thought I’d go on a date again.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because everyone in this town knows that I got divorced and everyone had an opinion about it,’ I whisper. ‘You know, I wasn’t exactly the most loved. A lot of them thought it was my fault that Dean started to see someone else. I wasn’t a good enough wife, who didn’t love her husband enough.’

When I look up, I see that Henry has clenched his jaw, before taking a sip of his wine. ‘That’s bullshit.’

‘I know,’ I say mostly out of disbelieve. ‘But good things happen to good people and now I met you.’

‘Moving to Luna Meadows was a good move on my behalf.’

Our pasta arrives and I sit up a bit straighter. ‘This looks delicious,’ I say, twirling around my fork, to twist the spaghetti around it. ‘Henry Cavill, you sure know how to swoop a woman off her feet.’

Henry smiles, taking a bite of his pasta. It’s different than mine, but it looks delicious. I can see him ogling my plate as well and I guess the grass is indeed greener on the other side. ‘Here,’ I say, with a fork full of pasta. I hold it above my other hand, so I won’t spill something on any of us. I now realize that it might be weird to feed a grown man on our first date, but I can’t go back now.

‘You’re a natural,’ he chuckles, before taking a bite. ‘Oh, yours is really good. Want a bite of mine?’

‘Sure,’ I say with a blush creeping up on my cheeks. He is a little clumsy, but somehow manages to bring the fork to my lips, without it spilling on my dress. With his thumb he wipes the corner of my mouth clean. ‘Am I tasting some cinnamon?’

‘That was what I was thinking,’ he says. ‘I would never put cinnamon in my pasta, but it is really tasty and it actually works.’

‘I once accidentally added honey to the chicken and somehow it turned out to be pretty okay.’

‘Yeah, Benji told me you weren’t a great cook.’

I hide my face in my hands. ‘I may have burned quite a few meals in my kitchen. One time, for Thanksgiving, I attempted to cook for Eve and Johnny, because they were having a bit of a rough time, with Lola being admitted into the hospital and all. However, I burned the entire meal, the kitchen was filled with smoke and I had a complete meltdown. Isabella called my parents and somehow my mom saved the day.’

Henry’s shoulder shake as he laughs. ‘That would be quite the sight.’

‘Oh, it was terrible. Can you imagine if I was a full time housewife? I think I’d have the fire department on speed dial.’

I want to add something to this (believe me, I have tons of stories of me nearly burning down my place), but my phone starts to ring and I quickly open my clutch to check the screen.

It’s Eve.

Part of me doesn’t want to take it, but I know that she took her promise serious. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I say.

‘Please, take it,’ Henry encourages me, when he sees me hesitating.

I pick up and say: ‘Eve, this better be very important.’ However I don’t hear her voice, but I hear Benji yelling in the background and that is something I barely understand. ‘What’s wrong? Is everything okay?’

‘I have no idea,’ Eve manages to say. ‘Isabella is just sitting in the corner of your living room, not speaking at all.’ That can’t be good. ‘Benji is on the edge of losing it, but I feel like he is too much in a rage to listen to any of us and Dean is outside, trying to let himself in, but we locked the door. I’m really sorry to interrupt your date, but I feel like both of your kids need you right now.’

My heart sinks. ‘Oh no,’ I mumble. ‘I’m coming back.’

‘I hate dad,’ I hear Benji yell in the background. ‘I fucking hate him.’

‘Benji, please stop it!’ Lola pleads.

‘This is not working, man,’ Jake adds.

‘Mom, Isabella is crying,’ Yara says.

I hang up, shaking my head. ‘I’m so sorry, Henry, I have to get back. Something is really wrong and according to Eve, Benji is really close to losing it completely and Isabella is not talking, Dean is outside of my house…’

‘I heard it,’ he says, already standing up, holding up my coat. ‘Let me get you home.’

[fanfiction-funtime]

Alexander Vodka lines

I did most of the characters, but some I don't know or genuinely can't think of anything. Hope this is good >-<

Hello: Hey there, your that Traveler fella ain’t ya? Hope I don't owe you copyrights for  the name. Hm? I don’t? Well then, what can I help ya with?

Adventures? Sure why not, I could use the inspiration.

Two names: You’re curious why I have two names? Well it's sort of a thing in Snezhnaya that officers and other high ranking people have two names, like how harbingers do. Since I’m a high ranking member of the Schneznayan authors association, well former member, I have the name “Eis Cay’zar” meaning “ice ruler”. And Alexander Vodka is a pen name. Hm? What's my resistance name and real one? Well now Traveler, a man must have some secrets.

Change of tone: Ah yes, people often find the way I change from more eloquent speech to more casual off putting. Well it's the same reason I wear two sets of clothes: sometimes I feel like looking like an old noir hero, other times I like looking like a new age caped crusader. Sometimes I like sounding high society, other times I enjoy sounding like I’m from Khaen’ria.

How do you know about Khaen’ria: Well I was looking for accents and found out about a place called “New York” or something, a bit of investigation and I discovered everything. My source? That's a secret, ehe.

Good morning: Mornin’ Traveler! What's in the mornin’ paper?

Noon: Lunch time, my favourite time of the day. Let’s go get some pizza, I’m famished!

Afternoon: Almost time to punch out, let's go knock some skulls first.

Night: *yawn* Today was fun, thanks buddy. Get some shut eye, or if you can't come meet me at (wanmin/angels share/the tea house), first rounds on me!

When it rains: I am so glad I got over my fear of contacts.

When it rains(with glasses outfit): Hey can we get under something? I can barely see!

When it stops raining: The smell that comes after rain has always been one of my favorites.

When it snows: Perfect weather to bundle up with a nice hot cup of hot chocolate!

When it stops snowing: Do you ever miss home, Traveler?

About freedom: I warned Barbados, you know that? I knew that as long as he saw it coming, Signora wouldn’t stand a chance. But he just looked at me and said, “good, when I’m gone mondstadt will be truly free of the gods”. That’s a man I’d follow to the depths of the abyss and back.

About Venti: Speaking of Barbados, he’s a great drinking buddy. Me and him knock back a couple hundred rounds whenever I’m in Mondstadt! Course I’m always paying the tab, but I consider it a way of repaying him for making songs about my books.

About Kaeya: The cavalry captain? He’s pretty cool if you ask me, modeled as Rex Mondoleon for the cover of a historical fiction book I made. But I’d still like to know what he’s hiding behind that smile.

About Diluc: Don’t tell him I told you this, but one time I found Diluc after he was hit by an abyss spell that made him drunk. While he was drunk he kept ranting about how sorry he is for kicking out his brother. The poor guy has all that forgiveness in him but he’s too afraid to let it out.

About Jean: The acting grandmaster of the knights is someone truly deserving of respect. She leads by being a good person and earning the respect of her people, and she has never once tried to cover up the mistakes of the knights. In fact if a knight makes a mistake she’ll rush out to fix it. Jean should be the grandmaster, not that crooked old bastard.

About Lisa: Lisa was my first friend in Mondstadt. She mailed me about getting copies of my books into the Mondstadt library, I said I’d do a signing to promote a new one, one thing led to another and now we have tea every ninth day of the month.

About Rosaria: Don’t tell anyone, but I’m very sure she’s a vampire. A nice one, but still.

About Barbara: Awe that little doll? I once saw her kill multiple fatui because they threatened some sick and injured travelers. So I think she’s a great person, takes compassion to save lives and guts to handle taking them as well.

About Bennett: Bennett? Yeah I know him, nice kid. He likes my books but kept breaking them, so now I make special enchanted ones so he can’t break them even if he tried.

About Razor: The guardian of wolvendom? He’s a weird one alright, but he’s not a bad guy. I taught him how to read and write.

About Fischl: That crazy kid? I don’t care what everyone else says, she’s nice. People need to learn to just leave people alone, she’s not hurting anyone with her persona.

About Noelle: You will never find someone more dedicated too...well anything than Noelle is too the knights and her training.

About Klee: Klee and I are great friends! Nothing is more stimulating than massive explosions!

About Amber: She always has interesting stories to tell, like one time where she got rid of some bandits by making a dummy merchant cart filled with explosives! Or the time she had to help a kid get her pet giant snake out from the cathedral!

About Zhongli: Heh, he thinks he’s slick, but I know he’s Rex Lapis. Gotta say I kinda hate him for just giving up his gnosis, however he did it to free his people so I can’t be mad.

About Ninnguang: Never much cared for economics because I don’t know much about ‘em, so I can’t say anything about her business sense. But I can say that she’s a great leader who puts her people first.

About Keqing: Haven’t talked to her enough to know much, but she’s dedicated to her people and that's enough for me. Her dislike of blind faith in the gods is definitely enough to make me want to get to know her better though.

About Qiqi: Qiqi’s a nice kid, I don’t care what anyone says her being a zombie doesn’t make her bad.

About Baizhu: Snake man? Nice guy, helps me be accurate in my books. Always worry about him though, one hot breeze and he’s out like a light.

About Xingqiu: Xingqiu always tries to hide his good deeds, and while I can respect anonymity I can’t let a hero go unsung. So I’ve written multiple short stories about him using a different name, and put in the beginnings that it’s based on a true story.

About Chongyun: His popsicles are great inventions, I’ve played around with the idea a bit and made flavored ones. So far I’ve got strawberry and grape down and am working on this weird fruit called a..Banananana? I think?

About Beidou: Captain Beidou is so cool! She tells me stories about her journeys out to see and I write about them, but after seeing her in action I can’t really say that I do her justice.

About Kazuha: Kazuha has suffered so much, yet he refuses to give up and curl up away from the world when he so easily could. I have immense respect for him.

About Xianling: You’d be surprised at how good slime and boar tusk can be.

About Xiao: I’ve written down many myths and legends of the yaksha, but sadly I've never seen him in person.

About Verr Goldet: Oh she’s great company! Good business sense, and always polite.

About Gorou: Many people rightly attribute the Resistance’s survival and victories to general Kokomi, but it’s wrong to say general Gorou isn’t a brilliant strategist. He knows how to rally his men against impossible odds, and how to keep them standing against them. I’d follow general Gorou into battle any day.

About Ayaka: Ayaka seems so lonely, I hope when this is all done she can have some form of social life.

About Thoma: Thoma’s as cool as he seems. He always has a level head, and solves problems smoothly and without issues.

About Yoimia: KABOOOM!

About Kokomi: One time I was doing an interview of her excellency, to boost morale and draw new members. I intended on asking for her autograph, only for her to ask for mine! I’ve been riding that high for a while now and still ain’t come down.

About Signora: I hate fatui, but without that she has some good qualities: most of her power is her own unlike most other harbingers, and she’s a sharp dresser. Plus she’s actually justified in her choice to join the fatui, not excused, but isolation can justify many crimes in my book. But no matter what I can’t forgive her. She attacked my friend without a chance for him to fight back, and was unfairly cruel. Nothing can justify that, and I will not forgive her as long as she remains unapologetic for her cowardly cruelty.

About Childe: Fatui are scum, but Childe’s probably the best of them: he personally tries to keep civilians and the weak out of fatui business, and he’s only in it to make sure his family lives well. He also is powerful on his own, but most of his strength is the Tsaritsa’s well deserved gifts. Still though, he’s just a single stressful day from losing all his morals. I can’t leave the fate of my homeland to a madman like him, not unless he gets therapy.

About Scaramouche: Scaramouche...that bastard, it’s been five years and he still owes me 30,061 mora.

About the Fatui: The fatui are really just people who are lost or genuinely believe they’re in the right, and while I can sympathize and respect many of them I can't agree nor can I just stand by and watch. The grunts usually aren’t that bad, honestly they’re more like underpaid graduates new to the workforce, but the fighters you see daily? Almost all of them are scum no better than raiders, and debt collectors are the worst of them because they’ll do anything they can to scam you out of everything in their contracts.

About us-commissions: You know, if you’d like to commission a biography it’s 100 mora per ten pages.

About us-inspiration: You’re a font of inspiration for me, ya know that?

About us-fellow rebels: I’ve been with ya enough to know that this path you’re on, the one to find your sis/bro, you’re fighting against something far beyond my ability to deal with. I won’t abandon you, I’ll be here every step of the way.

About us-friends: We’ve been through a lot pal, I’m glad to call you my friend. Please, call me my rebel name: it’s Belgrade, named after the city where some very brave men took their last stand against oppression.

Hobbies: Well you have reading and writing, otherwise? Can't think of anything.

Favorite food: Grilled tiger fish, come get it while it’s hot!

Least favorite food: I really wanna try it, but I can’t have almond tofu. Or any nuts. Closes my throat right up.

Something to share: Hehe, I got embarrassing dirt on all the harbingers. Signora? She has a Tsaritsa body pillow. Scaramouche? He knits sweaters for his pet pig, cute but he hates letting people know. And Childe? Hoo man, the pics I’ve got on him have put a pretty mora on my head.

About me: Hey have you seen my dice? I wanted to teach the mondstadt kids how to play them...hm? What?! No, not gambling! It’s, uh, a tad embarrassing...h-hey look! Literally anything else, let's pay attention to it!

About me II: Alright! These rolls are great, can’t wait to use them next game. I’m so proud of Fischl, so young yet so imaginative. She’s already-ah! T-traveler! What are you doing?..

You know I’m the one meant to be learning the secrets here.

About me III: Back in Snezhnaya, everyone looks down on things that don’t “conform” where even the most rigid of nations like Inazuma have stopped caring. Adults can't play games, men can’t wear dresses, can’t even have a “weird” sense of humor. No laws against it, but being outcasted is...it’s not good…

About me IV: I wish I grew up in Mondstadt. The kids there are so free to be themselves, and the adults aren’t pressured to be nothing more than working hands. It’s not perfect, after all people are rude to Fischl and Benny for being “different”, but it’s better that’s for sure.

About me V: Hey traveler...this is...no it’s not embarrassing. You’re my friend and I have no reason to be embarrassed by wanting to enjoy time with you! Fischl’s going to run a pen and paper dice game, ever played one? It’s super fun, you get to be anything you want really, and it’s a great way to bond.

You will? Great! I’ll help you make a character!

Alexander’s troubles: It’s so hard to find publishers these days. Noone wants an actual plot, they just want twist after twist. What’s up with that?! Shock value is no substitute for characters you love living fulfilling lives.

Happy birthday: Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday you crazy bastard, happy birthday to you! Seriously pal, you put yourself in harm's way every day it seems, we literally met when you were fighting an actual god! Actually, know what? No danger all day! We’re wrapping ourselves in blankets and just relaxing!

Feelings about ascension-intro: woah, somethin’ feels different. I like it!

Feelings about ascension-building up: man, I’m feeling inspired all of a sudden! Hey traveller, give me a prompt!

Feelings about ascension-climax: HA! I don’t know what high I’m riding but I like it, I just finished writing a whole book series!

Feelings about ascension-conclusion: WOO! YEAH! ULRICH MIKAEL KEEPS WINNIN’!-I-I meant Alexand-ah forget it, I’m feelin’ too good to care!

OCs:

About Louis: That crazy inventor guy from Fontaine? I heard he got used by the fatui, damn shame that. Noone deserves to have their heart played with like that.

About Spritefather: You ever heard of Spritefather? I’ve only heard legends, but the fanmail I keep getting tells me that sometimes things are only legendary until someone writes them down.

About the Storytraveler: There’s this woman who travels from universe to universe to fix things, she’s in Teyvat right now. You should meet her, really nice person. But her powers are a bit weird, why does she transform like that? It takes so much time!

_____________________

Tagging: @love-psxlm, @storytravelled, @genshin-obsessed, @golden-wingseos

[jisungsmochi]

stay - mark lee

mark and reader - best friend to lovers trope oops ft. supportive friend donghyuck (who is the mvp in this entire thing tbh) 

inspired by the friendship of caroline and stefan during seasons 5 and 6 of the vampire diaries. i hope my fellow tvd fans can see where i was going with this! 

n e wayz, this is pretty angsty and could be triggering so warnings: death mentioned, lots of grief and mentions of a car accident. 

word count: 4.8k 

without further ado, please enjoy and tell me what you think hehe 

a/n: anyone else love kick it era mark? oop 

//

“i’m so sorry for your loss” you heard the doctors speak to your parents. you hid behind the walls of your brother���s hospital room, eavesdropping on the conversation. your heart immediately stopped; this wasn’t possible. you had just seen him today. jisung wasn’t gone.

your parents were sobbing, you could hear the heartbroken cries from your mother. the doctors were equally distraught,

“i understand this is a very difficult time. please grieve with your family, again, my sincerest apologies” you dropped the bottle of water you were holding and bolted out of the room. you slammed yourself against the nearest wall and cried. you cried until your body ached, until your lungs were begging for more air. he wasn’t gone. jisung wasn’t gone. he was a fighter. you kept chanting in your head.

“y/n! what are you doing?” you heard donghyuck exclaim, instantly dropping to the ground with you.

“he’s gone, hyuck. he’s gone!” you wail, digging your nails into your palms.

donghyuck just held you in his arms, like nothing else truly mattered. he kept repeating “i’m sorry” to you, but he didn’t have anything to be sorry about. it wasn’t his fault.

“how’s mark?” you had the courage to finally speak.

“he’s...recovering. he’s refused to see the rest of us. i actually came to see if you were still around, maybe you could talk to him” donghyuck sighed, still brushing fingers through your hair. mark was your best friend. you would do anything for him. he was always there for you when you needed him to be. he always gave you crappy advice, which, 40% of the time actually worked. he drove you to school almost every day....your mind started drifting away,

driving.

a wreckless mistake can cause so much damage.

few hours ago

mark and jisung were driving home from basketball practice, as they had both recently started training together for a local team. it was fairly dark out, and mark didn’t want jisung to skate back home.

“just get in the car, jisung! there aren’t any girls to impress with your little skateboard” mark teased, watching as the younger boy just rolled his eyes and got into the car.

“i’m not trying to impress any girls” jisung huffs, putting on his seatbelt.

“you mean, one girl” mark smirked, knowing of his little crush on a girl in his maths class.

“shut up!” jisung blushed, turning on the radio to listen to some music.

“is it okay if we drive around for a bit longer? things at home aren’t so, well calm, i guess you can say” jisung mumbled, feeling embarrassed.

“oh okay, but are you sure you don’t want to go home? whatever it is, it can’t be too bad” mark just gulped, his thoughts wandering to you. were you okay?

“i’m sure, my parents are just arguing and well y/n doesn’t get to hear much of it because she’s always at the library or work or hanging with you guys! it’s hard just being at home, alone” jisung confides in the older boy, which led mark to have a warm feeling inside.

“thank you for trusting me, jisung! of course we can drive around, as long as you pick the songs!” mark tried to make jisung smile, even if it was the tiniest bit.  jisung nodded along, turning up the volume.

they were driving along the highway, which wasn’t as busy as it usually was. the boys were laughing, telling stories of their random experiences from school. mark swore his eyes were off the road for a second, when suddenly, another car’s headlights blinded the two boys. mark tried to swerve to the side of the road, but it was too late, the other car crashed into the passenger side, causing his car to spiral.

mark reached for the younger boy’s hand, before his vision become blurry, knocking him out.

now he laid, staring at the ceiling of the hospital room. reliving that moment over and over. replaying it. how he could have saved him. how it should have been him.

mark lee was always seen as a protector to his friends. he was a natural leader. the one who always stood up for others. but right now, in this moment, he felt like a failure. he was ashamed. he couldn’t face you. no matter how many times the rest of the boys came over, telling him how distraught you were. mark refused to see you. every time he heard your voice behind the curtain, he moved to his side and pretended he was asleep.

one night, you snuck into his room, without warning him. you stared at his injuries, he looked miserable. he was in pain. your heart broke.

“mark” you whispered. the boy had his eyes closed and laid to his side again. you sighed, taking a seat next to his bed.

“i don’t know if you’re pretending or not. but i don’t like how you’ve been ignoring me. jisung is gone. i miss him. i miss you. i want to talk to you. mark, you’re the only person i need right now. please talk to me. i will wait for you. just please” you sobbed into your hands. mark’s heart ached to hear you cry. he hated when you cried. but he couldn’t get himself to just turn around and look at you.

“goodbye mark, i’ll see you soon” you whispered, giving up at that point. you stumbled out of the room, and walked towards the exit. you passed the room, jisung was in. and your eyes immediately teared up.

a few months went by, you were trying to get yourself back on track. it was graduation soon. you and your friends were beyond excited. you all needed something good to distract from the events.

“guys we made it!” jeno smiled, as they all huddled in a circle.

“i can’t believe jaemin was able to pass bio” renjun smirked, nudging the boy.

“i can’t believe it either mate” jaemin chuckled, along with everyone else. how you’d wish mark was here to see you graduate. he was always there. no matter what. you were all aware that mark had been discharged from the hospital. after that last night, you tried to see him again, but you saw someone else occupying his room. you heart sank, at the thought that mark had yet to speak one word to you in months. not even a message or call. nothing.

“anything you wanna say, y/n?” donghyuck pulls you closer to him, sending you had zoned out.

“i’m so proud of us, we got through some tough times together. thank you all, so so much” you felt a tear threaten to leave your eye,

“oh please don’t cry! it makes me wanna cry” jaemin pouted,

“group hug you losers!” renjun yelled as you all embraced eachother.

after graduation, things settled down. you, donghyuck and renjun were packing to move out of town for college, while jaemin and jeno were staying behind to take a gap year. things were finally going back to being normal, except, you hadn’t heard from mark since the accident.

you all were hanging out at donghyuck’s house, chatting away about your future plans and what you all wanted to achieve by this time next year.

“jaemin and i wanna start our own sports club! something fun to do during summers and we get to teach kids!” jeno excitedly explained,

“suits you guys so well! i’m so happy for you” you smile at him before getting ready to share your plans.

“this time next year i’d hope to have survived first year college stress and also, not be so sad anymore” your smile faded, as the boys solemnly looked at you.

“i miss him guys” you mutter, your words becoming softer.

“we miss both of them” donghyuck puts his arm around you. you both looked up and saw the other boys fidgeting. they looked uneasy.

“what’s up you guys?” you wipe away a small tear that stained your cheek. you prepared yourself for what they had to say,

“i don’t know how else to tell you but i spoke to mark, well the three of us did” renjun began talking, your eyes widened at his words.

“what do you mean you guys talked to him? where the fuck is he? why didn’t he come see all of us?” you screwed, visibly distraught at what you had heard. donghyuck held you back, knowing you weren’t truly angry at the boys.

“he came by one day when we were shooting hoops. he told us he was leaving town. he didn’t say where he was going” jaemin continued, the three boys sitting across from you had the most sympathetic expressions on their faces, you couldn’t be mad at them.

“he didn’t say anything about me?” you barely spoke above a whisper, watching as the three shook their heads simultaneously.

“that dick” donghyuck exclaims, letting go of your figure. he stood up and began pacing.

“he just left her. he left y/n, alone. he’s known her longer than any of us and just left. he’s a dick” the boy balled his fists.

“we know, we too, don’t understand why he’s gone. but what else can we do? he’s pretty much dropped off the face of the earth” jeno sighed, holding his head in his hands.

“i hate him” you raise your voice, everyone immediately draws their eyes to you and goes silent.

“y/n, no you don’t. you don’t hate mark” renjun muttered, trying to not let this escalate.

“i hate him! i hate him so much! i hate him for leaving me. i hate him for ignoring me. i hate him for letting me fall inlove with him”  you whimper at the last few words. holding your hands over your chest, tears staining your cheeks.

the boys knew of how you felt about mark. it wasn’t so discrete. you thought of him as more than a friend, but you never thought you stood a chance. he was seen as a brother to you. but you already had a brother. you wanted mark, you wanted him to hold you when you were upset. you wanted him to be the one to comfort you during dark times. you wanted him to wake you up in the mornings with small kisses. but you would never get that. because mark lee was selfish. he was a coward. he just left.

you swore to yourself you wouldn’t contact him. but when you looked all around your room, pictures of you and mark and your silly adventures were plastered everywhere. you wanted to take them down, but some photos had jisung in them, you didn’t have the guts to remove any photos, it would have hurt too much.

you broke your promise to yourself, you continued to send mark voicemails every single day for a month. you wished him well, and that he was safe and happy. you hoped that he had found new friends and was living a great new life. you spoke about your days, and what you did. knowing that he may not even have the same phone or number. speaking out your thoughts still helped in a way. even if the other end was completely radio silent.

you were scribbling down the last sentences of your notes for class the next day, when you hear your phone ringing.

“yes, hyuck?” you answer, closing up your notebook and placing your stationery back in its usual place.

“i know this sounds crazy, but i think i know where mark is” he blurts out. you stop completely in your tracks, unsure of where he was going with this.

“how did you- when? what?” was all you could say.

“some of my second year friends, kept mentioning, a new kid named mark that has been hanging around at their parties. they aren’t sure if he goes to the same college as us, but he’s definitely a lot closer than we thought” donghyuck explains to you over the phone, you were stringing along with every word.

“where is he then?” you started biting at your nails, feeling a wave of anxiousness wash over you.

“he’s roommates with a guy named lucas, we can go there on the weekend if you want. i got their address” donghyuck waited for you to respond, but you were just in shock. not only did you think you would never see mark again, he was only staying a few towns away. that broke you down even more.

you decided to send one last voicemail to mark that night.

“i still don’t know if you even listen to these. but i’m coming to see you mark. you’ve hurt me so much, and you’re not even physically here to do it. you know how fucked up that is? i can’t wait to see what excuses you have for me, but i will not hold back”

saturday morning rolled around and donghyuck was at the front of your house, waiting in his car. you rushed out, bidding a goodbye to your parents and jumped into his car.

“ready for the road?” donghyuck flashed you a smile, waiting as you nodded, before starting the engine and driving off to the mysterious destination.

the whole drive there, you felt sick to your stomach. you weren’t sure what you would say to mark. you weren’t sure if you would even be able to speak. you might have just cried the moment he opened the door.

“we’re here” donghyuck cut out your thoughts. you both exited the car and made your way to the apartment. your nerves were going through the roof, you hoped mark was there, you really did.

donghyuck sensed your nerves, he gave you a tight hug before knocking on the door himself.

it took a few seconds before you heard footsteps. the door swung open and you were greeted by a tall boy with tanned skin and light brown hair. he was wearing a white t-shirt and black shorts, you assumed it was lucas.

“may i help you guys?” he asks kindly,

“we’re...friends, uh of mark” you spoke, watching as he nodded.

“i didn’t know he had friends coming over! i was just heading out, he’s in his room right now, feel free to come in! i’ll call him” lucas smiled widely, opening the door wider. you felt your heart pound in your chest. you were about to face the boy who brought you so much pain in the past few months.

“markie! you got some friends here for ya!” lucas yelled while pretty much slamming on his door.

“what do you mean friends?” you heard the familiar voice ring through your ears. you watched as the same boy, walked into the living area. his hair was now raven black, compared to his chestnut brown colour, you were far too familiar with. his face immediately became pale. lucas stares between the two of you, raising his eyebrows in confusion,

“this is kinda awkward, i’m gonna go now, see you guys, have fun catching up”

mark just gave him a small wave before walking towards you. donghyuck stood behind you, ready in case you couldn’t handle your emotions.

“what are you doing here?” his voice was so cold. he was so straight forward. you wanted nothing more but for him to hold you and say he’s sorry.

“really?” was all you could choke out at that moment. you saw his eyes shift around the room, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“i’m gonna leave you two to talk” donghyuck states as he moves to the kitchen, mark leads you to his room, closing the door behind you both.

“i can’t believe you” you stutter, crossing your arms, watching as he sits on his bed.

“what? y/n? you can’t believe what? that i actually have a good life right now?” mark groans at you. this may have been the first time you’ve seen him so distraught.

“what happened to you? did you not get my messages? my voicemails?” you whimper, he refused to even look at you.

“i couldn’t listen to them. you know that” mark muttered, turning his head to look at you.

“why did you leave?” you sighed, moving to sit next to him, leaving a fair space between you two.

“i couldn’t stay. i couldn’t stay in that town when everything bad that happened to all of us, was my fault” mark’s voice was unsteady. he couldn’t control the sobs that wanted to escape.

“what do you mean?” you wanted to hold his hand, touch him in any way you could.

“i killed him, y/n. how can you forgive me? how can you still care for me?” mark looked right into your eyes, his were glossed over in tears. the dark circles under his eyes and his messy hair, didn’t indicate he was living his best life.

“you did not kill, jisung. you got hurt too” you move to sit right against him, your shoulders touching.

“i did though. i’m the one to blame. jisung didn’t want to go home that night because your parents were fighting. he wanted an escape. i should have still taken him home. i shouldn’t have gone on that route through town. it was all my fault” mark whimpered, tears flowing out of his eyes. you placed your hand over his. your eyes beginning to stream tears of your own.

“oh mark lee, you could have never predicted that something that terrible could have happened. no body blames you” you held his head to your chest, letting his tears trickle down your shirt.

“i didn’t want to leave you, you know” he sniffled. you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you.

“but you still did. you hurt me, mark. real bad. i hated you at one point. i thought we were stronger than that” you sighed, brushing your fingers through his hair. he pulled himself up to look at you.

“i’m sorry” he mumbled, pulling his face closer to yours.

“it’s okay” you were speechless, you had never been so close to him. he stared into your eyes, flickering down to your lips.

“i’m inlove with you” you mumble, ready to press your lips together. mark stopped you, pulling himself back.

“i- i can’t” he stood up and turned his back to you.

“what?” you grabbed his shoulder, turning him to face you again. he got slightly taller, or maybe it was because you hadn’t seen him in so long.

“i can’t love you like that. i’ve hurt you too much. you deserve better than me. i can’t” mark runs his fingers through his hair. you were more frustrated than ever,

“you’re right, i do deserve better than you. go fuck yourself” you grit through your teeth, before landing a loud smack to his face. he tried to chase after you, but you were already out the door. donghyuck was about to follow you when he bumped into mark.

“look here buddy, you fucked with her heart so bad. i don’t care what you said to her, but she would die for you. she would have done anything for you. she cried almost every day for a month after graduation, because she wanted you there for her” donghyuck shoved the older boy, so that his back hit the nearest wall.

“you don’t know how much pain she’s been through, and all she wanted was for her best friend, to be there for her. and you couldn’t even do that. you’re a coward mark lee. she’s inlove with you. and i know you are too. i know you want to protect her, but she’s desperate for your love again. so cut this act and be a decent human. for her sake. please” donghyuck finishes, not waiting for mark to respond before chasing you to his car. you had already sat in the passenger seat and began crying hysterically.

“it’s okay sweets, he will come to his senses soon” donghyuck pulls you in for a quick side hug, before starting the car.

you were too broken. and you weren’t sure if anything could fix you.

a week had passed since that dreaded day. you had barely left your house. it was exactly like the week after jisung passed, all over again. your parents weren’t sure if they should push you to tell them what was wrong. you were glad they thought that, it kept you from talking about your feelings for mark. even if he was a complete ass to you, you couldn’t get rid of years of emotions.

you were laying in your bed, rewatching the vampire diaries for the thousandth time, finally getting up to parts where stefan and caroline were almost in the same situation as you and mark. you groaned at how painful it was to watch. you shut your laptop, and sighed, you hadn’t showered in a while. as you were getting ready, you heard a faint knock on your door. you assumed it was one of your parent’s, checking up on you.

“come in!” you yell, grabbing your stuff in your arms. the door opened slowly, you heard the person cough slightly, knowing it wasn’t your parents, you froze.

“uh hey” mark’s voice echoed through your room. you glared at him, ready to shove past him and tell him to leave. but as you approached him, he grabbed your wrist. you groaned, tears ready to stream. you started banging his chest, mumbling hurtful words to him. he knew you that what you were saying was true. he didn’t deny anything. he held both your wrists, not wanting you to punch him anymore. you just balled your fists, pushing your head into his chest. he let go of your wrist and pulled you into his chest completely. he stroked your hair gently, mumbling “i’m so sorry baby” over and over again. you felt your arms wrap around his torso. you weren’t sure what you were feeling at that moment, but it wasn’t complete hatred or anger for him. he was always going to be your mark lee.

“i’m sorry baby” he muttered, before you looked up at him. his eyes were red, indicating he was crying before he even entered your room.

“baby?” you mumble. not once in your entire friendship, sort of not friendship, did he call you baby.

“yes. i’m a little too late but, i’m inlove with you, y/n. i know i pushed you away, i didn’t want to. i hope you trust me on that. i didn’t want to hurt you, but i did it anyway. i didn’t want you to think about me anymore. you could have been happier without me. you could have made new friends! gotten new interests, become a new you. i didn’t know that you needed me that much” he stuttered over his words, holding both your hands in his.

“i don’t know what to say” you shake your head, holding onto his hands tightly, as if he was going to just leave again.

“can i kiss you?” he pressed his forehead onto yours. your heart didn’t hurt so much anymore. you weren’t sure how you were feeling, but you weren’t opposed to the proposition. you nodded slowly, watching as mark pulled your chin up with his finger and pressed his cold lips onto yours. this wasn’t how you imagined your first kiss with mark. you dreamt of it being in his car, while you two were watching the city lights and stats like you would always do. but this feeling, was something you couldn’t stop.

you held onto his shoulder and he moved his hand to cup your cheek. he pulled away, pressing his forehead onto yours again,

“you don’t need to forgive me, ever really. i just needed to do that before anything else happened. y/n, i would do anything for you. even if that meant pushing you away so you could be happier. i’m happier with you. i am a better person with you. and if it takes me forever to prove that to you, i’ll do it, because being with you, feels like forever” mark muttered before pressing another kiss to your lips. you didn’t respond with words, instead you pulled him in by his shirt and continued to kiss him repeatedly. he led you to your bed, your back pressed against your mattress, with mark on top of you. he tried to pull away to speak but you continued to kiss him more. eventually he started chuckling,

“why are you laughing?” you smiled, still holding onto his shoulders.

“you just want to kiss! how about tell me how you feel!” he chuckled once more, causing you to roll your eyes. you pushed him back, sitting cross legged from him.

“i don’t forgive you yet, you have a lot of making up to do. but i just want you to promise me one thing” you sigh, taking his hand in yours.

“anything” he assured you, squeezing your hand in his.

“promise you won’t leave again. please. stay with me” your voice cracked, thoughts of him hurting you, coming back,

“i’m not leaving anymore baby, i’m not going to run away from my problems. i’m done with that. i’m focusing on us now” you felt more tears prickle in your eyes,

“oh no why are you crying?” he pouted, wiping away your tears.

“fuck you, you’re too fucking cute” you manage to smile, letting him know you weren’t upset.

“you’re cuter” he mutters into your temple.

“i love you, mark” you run your fingers around the palm of his hand.

“i love you too, y/n” he stroked your hair gently as you both cuddled up in your bed.

mark lee. the only boy who was your weakness. but also made you strong. he loved you like no one had ever before. he wanted to protect you from any danger that came towards your way. he needed you close, as did you. he will always be the one for you, no matter what happens.

a/n: apologies for any mistakes! mark lee got me feeling things *sigh* 

[fractionallystruckout]

Second String (Part 2)

(Part 1 - Part 2)

Inspired by @rainbowjunko's great drawing of Jun and Tetsu playing guitar and bass, respectively.

AU: rock band!AU

Also on AO3.

Jun's band practices every day except Monday and Thursday. Yuuki shows up on Monday.

—

Jun stood with the door open, staring at Yuuki on his front step.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "It's Monday."

He was pretty sure. He hoped it was or the date he'd written on every receipt at the bookstore was wrong.

"I know," Yuuki said, easing some of Jun's concerns. He shifted the bag on his shoulder. "I was wondering if I could practice here."

"Why here?"

"I live in a 1K and the walls are thin."

Jun wanted to say no.

It was Monday, that much was confirmed. Monday was Jun's day to catch up on everything that had fallen by the wayside during the previous week like grocery shopping and laundry. It was why he was standing in front of an unexpected guest wearing a threadbare shirt and a pair of old sweatpants. Yuuki's neatly pressed office attire, including an expensive looking coat, made Jun feel underdressed in his own home which was ridiculous and annoying.

He wanted to say no.

His stupid, stupid dream said otherwise.

You'll only be better if he gets better.

"Fine," he said, stepping back in reluctant invitation. "Come in."

Yuuki nodded and stepped inside, setting his case down so he could take off his shoes. Jun watched him put shined dress shoes down next to his own scuffed boots. Yuuki picked up his case and moved towards the stairs, pausing for a moment to glance at the hallway leading to Jun's kitchen.

"You know the way," Jun said, pushing Yuuki on the shoulder.

They went downstairs, the short trip lit only by ambient light falling down from the entryway until Jun reached out to turn the lights on. Everything was still set up from their practice yesterday, for their practice tomorrow. Yuuki stepped over the cords strayed across the floor as he took up his usual spot, stage left of Miyauchi's drums.

Jun leaned against the wall.

"There's a metronome in that box somewhere," he said, pointing to a box in the far corner behind Miyauchi's seat. It was a mess of cords and tape and anything else that didn't have a proper place. "If it's dead, there's a pack of batteries in the closet."

Yuuki looked up from unpacking his bass. "You're not staying?"

"No," Jun said, shaking his head. "It's Monday."

The day Jun caught up on everything he hadn't had time for during the previous week.

The newest issue of his favorite shoujo manga was calling his name.

Not that Yuuki needed to know that.

"Have at it," he said, starting back up the stairs. "Give a shout if you need anything."

Yuuki nodded. Jun heard him searching through the box as he left.

He walked past his kitchen, letting out a heavy breath as he sat down at the small table next to his bed. In terms of space and rent, Jun technically lived in a 1DK but he'd given up the bedroom to use as a practice space, shrinking his actual living space down to a single studio room. It was fine on most days. He didn't spend a lot of time at home not practicing or sleeping.

More importantly, it was what he could afford.

Jun pushed away the meager remains of his dinner - day old fried rice from the convenience store Ryousuke worked at - and picked up his manga.

He heard the metronome start up below him, sharp electronic beeps measuring out a quick beat. He shook his head at Yuuki's insistence on always playing at full tempo. He chose to ignore it in favor of finally finding out which of the suitors Mariko, the manga's heroine, would pick. The climactic decision was coming and he was only pages away.

Yuuki started to play, pulling Jun's eyes down to the floor.

He could hear the low notes of Yuuki's bass. He could hear the rhythm and the constant beep of the metronome.

He could hear Yuuki being wrong.

Jun lasted ten minutes and two pages before he threw the manga onto his bed and marched downstairs.

"They're upbeats!" he shouted, taking the stairs two at a time. Yuuki looked up at him as Jun stalked over to where he stood, pointing at the rhythm in the music. "Upbeats," he stressed.

Yuuki frowned. "I know."

Jun bit his tongue.

He knew Yuuki knew. They played a surprisingly good set only two days ago. That didn't make waiting for the rhythm to sink in any less tortuous.

He picked up the metronome and turned it off before tossing it carelessly at the box. The beeping was starting to hurt his head and he could only tolerate one persistent annoyance at a time. He grabbed his guitar, keeping his back to Yuuki as he plugged into an amp.

Jun eventually met the subtle question in Yuuki's gaze.

"Next time, bring food," he said, pointing a pick at him.

Yuuki nodded easily.

"Okay," Jun said. "From the top."

—

Jun remembered to put on better clothes before answering the door the following Monday.

There wasn't a lot to choose from. He still hadn't done laundry but the jeans he wore all day and a relatively clean shirt made him feel better when faced with Yuuki's neat, pressed professionalism.

Yuuki stood on his front step, holding his case and a plastic bag in either hand. He held the bag out to Jun.

"Ryousuke said you like oyakudon," he said.

Jun laughed which made Yuuki frown, his hand dropping a little.

"Do you not?" he asked.

"I do," Jun said, holding his hand out to accept Yuuki's offering. He stepped back to let Yuuki in, peeking into the bag as Yuuki took off his shoes. There were two bowls and two sets of chopsticks. "I'm just surprised Ryousuke told you the truth. Saying I like goya or something just to mess with me is more his style."

Yuuki picked up his case. He frowned hard like he was struggling with a rhythm.

"Do you not like goya?"

Jun scrunched up his face. "I hate it."

"I see," he said.

Jun shut the door, suddenly feeling uncomfortable being the topic of conversation. He glanced down at the bag in his hand, the floor, and then the hallway to his kitchen.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asked, changing the subject. "I have water and... water."

"I'll take water," Yuuki said, without a hint of judgment. "Thank you."

"Sure," Jun said. "Go ahead. I'll be right down."

Yuuki nodded and headed downstairs.

Jun went to his kitchen and set the bag of food down on the counter. He searched through his limited collection of dishware, selecting two cups that were the most presentable, meaning clean and not cracked. He filled them with ice and water before grabbing the bag and going down to the practice space.

Yuuki had cleared a stack of books and magazines off a neglected end table and placed it between the couch and a chair. Jun set the cups down on the table and began unpacking the food. He handed Yuuki a bowl and chopsticks before taking the other for himself and dropping into the chair.

Jun was three bites in when he had to stop.

"This is really good," he said.

Yuuki set down his water. "It's from a shop in the train station by my office," he said, as if he was considering it for the first time. "It's very popular."

"I can see why," Jun said. Yuuki smiled as Jun ate vigorously, too caught up in the satisfaction of good food to be bothered with polite pacing. He paused about halfway through and sat back in his chair. "Thanks for dinner."

"Thanks for letting me practice here."

Jun shrugged. His letting Yuuki practice wasn't exactly altruistic. If Yuuki got better, the band would be better. It was all in service of Jun's dream.

He set his bowl down and looked at Yuuki.

"So, what else do you do?" he asked. "When you're not butchering our music?"

Yuuki frowned.

Jun laughed.

—

Yuuki liked routine.

He was consistent and predictable. Jun could set his watch by him, if he wore a watch.

It was something Jun learned, gleaned, picked up over time and shared meals eaten in their practice space. He also learned that Yuuki had a degree in management and had been at his job since he graduated from college. He liked it well enough, it paid the bills. He learned Yuuki had a younger brother who was still in college. They talked regularly, on Thursdays, coincidentally, which was probably the only reason Yuuki didn't show up asking to practice on those days too.

But most of all, Yuuki liked routine.

It was that preference towards routine that brought him back to Jun's front step, week after week, Monday after Monday, always with food in hand. After oyakudon it had been curry, paitan ramen, yakitori, and shio salmon.

Today it was okonomiyaki.

And beer.

"Don't make that face!" Jun said, pointing at Yuuki.

In Yuuki's defense, the range of his expressions was small but Jun could tell. He had the advantage, the high ground, standing while Yuuki sat on the couch. He also had years of experience with people's opinions on shoujo manga.

He could tell.

"What face?" Yuuki asked.

"That face," Jun said, stepping up to the end table that separated them, pointing at the amused tilt to Yuuki's mouth. "That 'shoujo is for girls' face."

"But it is? It's in the name."

Jun groaned, his body drooping in disappointment.

"A target demographic doesn't define the entire audience!" he said, gesturing a bit too widely given the beer in his hand. "They're still good stories, they just focus more on people than action. It's like a kids movie," he argued, approaching the table again. "Are you never going to see another kids movie just because you're not the target audience?"

Yuuki blinked, the amusement subtly falling off his face.

"No," he said slowly.

"Exactly," Jun grinned. He took a long, victorious drink from his beer. "It's the same thing."

Yuuki stayed quiet as Jun returned to his seat. He had no rebuttal for Jun's bulletproof argument.

Jun dropped into the chair as he surveyed the remains of the food. He turned at an angle, throwing his leg over the side arm, giving him leverage to reach across the table and pick a neglected piece of pork off Yuuki's plate. He righted himself as he put it into his mouth.

Yuuki didn't seem to notice the theft.

"Do you have a favorite?" he asked.

"I can't pick just one," Jun said, between chewing.

"Which would you recommend?"

"It depends on what you're looking for."

Yuuki frowned, which was a weird response.

It made Jun want to press his finger to Yuuki's brow to see if the crease would go away.

"What's your favorite manga?" he asked instead.

"Lone Wolf and Cub."

Jun laughed.

"Of course it is," he said, not noticing when his laughter floated almost into giggle territory. He tried to take another drink, peering into the bottle when it came up empty. He put it down on the table with the others. "You seem like the type that likes sword fights that go on for a hundred pages."

"It's a story about sacrifice and determination-" Yuuki started.

"It's people fighting with swords," Jun moaned, dragging the words out.

Yuuki smiled, which was a weird response.

Jun narrowed his eyes at him.

"If shoujo is more than just a genre for girls," Yuuki said calmly, "then Lone Wolf and Cub can be more than just people fighting with swords."

Jun stared at Yuuki as he considered his argument.

The stark professionalism that gave Yuuki an untouchable air was gone, shed slowly, piece by piece, over the passing weeks. His tie was gone, the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, and his long sleeves were folded up to his elbows. Jun could see his watch, the calluses on his fingers, the flex of his forearms as he turned his beer in his hands. He could see the flush of alcohol that warmed Yuuki's face, the color running down his neck to where lines were still drawn.

It made Jun wonder if Yuuki felt as warm to the touch as he looked.

"I guess you're right," he said, turning his attention away. Having nothing to do with his hands, Jun crossed his arms over his chest. "Maybe we can swap later. You can read some shoujo and I can find out what's so good about sword fights."

Yuuki laughed, brief and soft.

"I'd like that."

"Me too."

Jun glanced at him, feeling his face warm when Yuuki smiled.

He blamed the alcohol.

"Although I expect you to take good care of my books, Yuuki," he said, forcing the usual edge to his tone. "Some of them are out of print."

"I will," Yuuki said with a nod, unquestionable as always. He looked at Jun for a moment before adding, "And Tetsu's fine."

Jun fought the smile trying to overtake his face.

"Jun's fine too."

[a-cai-jpg]

a drama review you never asked for

So yesterday, I started a drama by accident. 

before we begin, here is a little glossary: Itazura Na Kiss = Playful Kiss (Korean), It Started with a Kiss (Taiwanese), Love in Tokyo (Japanese) Naoki = the main male lead in Itazura Na Kiss, stoic, bitchy brainiac whom everyone is in love with Kotoko = the main female lead in Itazura Na Kiss, a clutz, sucks at school, is in love with Naoki Yanmo = the main male lead in Le Coup de Foudre Qiaoyi = the main female lead in Le Coup de Foudre

I say by accident, because it was a weird series of events that led me to click on the first episode of Le Coup De Foudre, and by the time I realized what had happened, I was on episode 26 and it was 1:20 in the morning.

Help.

I finished it today before noon because I watch drama in the fucked-up way where I kind of skip forward by 5 second increments when they talk about things I don't really care about or when they're narrating life lessons.

(I always wonder if I'm missing something integral to the drama-watching experience when I do this because I do this 85% of the time, but it's either this or I get distracted going on social media cause I can't freaking sit still.) 

(idk i think i still get most of the drama though. right?)

But I don't know, I really liked the drama. Not in the way where I want to revisit every scene on Tumblr and proclaim my love for it in the tags like I do with some. It's one of the dramas where I watch, and it just kind of sits heavily in my heart for a little bit and tells me to appreciate who I have around me.

Le Coup De Foudre begins with the ending, where the two characters are already together. They reminisce about their relationship from the very beginning, and that's how the drama progresses. I think it's that feeling, the in media res, the frequent analepsis, that strengthens the poignancy of the nostalgia.

It kind of reminds me of brewing tea.

(lol, midway through a scene, i felt a pang in my chest because i felt so bad for the female lead, and i paused the video and sighed in contentment and was like, "ahhh yes i feel feelings again.")

(sos)

So, I have been describing Le Coup De Foudre as the better version of Itazura Na Kiss--the better version of a plotline we have seen very often. The drama begins in a high school, stretches past college, and ends when both leads find their place next to each other as they leave school-life behind them.

And obviously, during high school, the female lead is failing all her classes whilst the male lead scores number one in every class. And of course, circumstances draw the two together, and the male lead grudgingly begins to tutor the female lead.

But, where Itazura Na Kiss has a male lead who is emotionally manipulative and has a side-hobby of rendering the girl to tears, Le Coup De Foudre has a male lead who is certain of what he wants and faces his feelings head on. There's no tugging back and forth and no unnecessary drama, but instead, a very natural progression from sitting next to a girl you like to finding each other again years after high school graduation.

When I watched Itazura Na Kiss (or the many iterations of it, either in different languages or under a different name cough cough A Love So Beautiful cough cough), there was an anxiety clouding the female lead. She treads carefully, trying to present herself in a version that makes the male lead happy. The male lead, on the other hand, is at a loss of how to address her feelings and thereby, ends up acting like an ass.

(Disclaimer: I don't actually remember much of the dramas. It's been a while.)

In high school, he is not mature enough to handle his feelings for the female lead alongside the stress of living up to his parents' expectations and figuring out what he wants to do in the future. In college, he is not mature enough to handle the admittedly annoying advances of the female lead alongside the new social terrain of unversity. Post-college, he is not mature enough to handle his new marriage alongside his stressful job at the company. From high school to post-college graduation, the male lead does not learn how to navigate a relationship where both parties' feelings matter and instead, focuses on what he thinks a relationship should look like. 

The female lead isn't faultless either, though her archetype has evolved throughout the years. In It Started with a Kiss and Love in Tokyo, she was a caricature of what her character should have been. In A Love So Beautiful, she graduated from being utterly ridiculous to being a little clumsy and a little too head over heels for a not-great guy, but the viewer can't help but be a little fond of her.

In Le Coup De Foudre, she becomes more. Her character stops being defined by her love for the guy.

I like Le Coup De Foudre because before lovers, they are friends first. 

(like. come on. that's kinda cute right.)

It's the softly veiled kind of affection that gets me. Like, when she pauses at the doorway to the classroom, and unlike last semester there are many more desks for her to choose from, but she decides to sit next to him anyways. Or, when he says something stupid and hurts her feelings and is stressing out about how to apologize, but she breaks the ice first and gives him a water bottle.

See, Yanmo is very much the same stoic, brainiac character Naoki was. But unlike Naoki, he is not afraid of his feelings. He doesn't want to hurt her, but his EQ isn't great so he inevitably does so anyways. Yet, he recognizes when he does wrong and takes the initiative to awkwardly ask her twin brother how to apologize. He admits to his mom that he likes her far, far before she even realizes she likes him. He gets drunk on a mouthful of vodka by accident and remembers this dumb thing she said about guys with ties being hot, so he grabs the tie of a fellow student and says he wants it because "guys with ties are hot." He faces his feelings in the immature way a high school student who's never been in love does, but he doesn't deride them. He doesn't think they are beneath him, or that he has larger aspirations and he's just taking a small reprieve from them to be with her.

(this is the kind of stoic male lead I like!!!)

He doesn't leave her behind, running to catch up. Instead, he's always quietly waiting for her.

And when they get together, he lets her fool around. He lets her take all the blankets, he challenges her brother to Chinese Clash of Clans and beats him senseless when he bullies his sister, he jokes with her in that deadpanned way of his, brings her soup when she's writing in a hotel, picks her up on the roadside on a rainy day, and doesn't reprimand her. 

I think this sort of character who plays on the trope of the stoic, smart kid, but fleshes him out so that he cries and laughs and puts other people before him is what makes this relationship dynamic work. There's no icky feeling like in Itazura Na Kiss, where the audience is constantly questioning whether or not Naoki actually loves Kotoko, because in this drama, it's so, so clear that Yanmo loved Qiaoyi since high school.

:/

The other characters are well-written as well. Qiaoyi sucks at math, but she's not stupid. She's shy, but she's not afraid of pursuing what she puts her mind to. She cares a ridiculous amount for other people, but she's not naive, and it's ultimately a combination of these traits that helps the characters save Yanmo's company from bankruptcy. Like I've mentioned before, Qiaoyi isn't defined by her love for Yanmo. She loves Yanmo so much that she pledged to think about him only six days of the week, and then four days, and then two days, and then eventually it'll be just one day of the week, but it never really happens. She loves Yanmo so much, but she lives the life she's supposed to live, accepting that even if he's not by her side, she still needs to work hard for her dream. 

There's no second male lead, so there's no dramatic I LOVE HER MORE THAN YOU EVER WILL screaming match where the first male lead stands there and clenches his teeth because he doesn't know how to proclaim his love. Instead, there's a loving older twin brother who dotes on Qiaoyi but doesn't forget to jokingly remind her that their parents picked her up from the trashbin. Instead, there's an emotionally mature first male lead who tells Qiaoyi he loves her and will be hurt if she likes someone else.

The second female lead is gorgeous and instead of kickstarting a nasty jealousy arc, she becomes one of Qiaoyi's closest friends. It takes a while, but she eventually recognizes that maybe she's liked Yanmo since a young age, but she never really fell in love with him. Instead, she falls in love with Yanmo's uncle who is the same age as him. Uncle isn't a good looking dude, but tbh, Cheng Youmei is pretty enough for both of them.

Uncle is the number one Yanmo/Qiaoyi fan. I like him.

Le Coup De Foudre is great, but I feel kind of bad criticizing Itazura Na Kiss, because it did make up a large part of my childhood.

(i was so offended when the wall outside my house fell and my fam was evicted and we had to live at a motel and not at a hot family friend's house smh) 

Also, there's always this little voice in my head whenever I say some TV show isn't good (which is very often because I'm a pretentious brat) telling me to stop being a hypocrite.

See, when I was in middle school, one of my favorite TV dramas was Meteor Shower, which is one of the many iterations of Hana Yori Dango. 

(LOL Meteor Shower is a whole other can of worms)

I remember I watched it when I was in Shanghai for summer vacation, and then when season 2 came out, I was again, in Shanghai.

(even back then, I thought season 2 was trash.)

When I watched season 2, I lived with my aunt. Because I lived with my aunt, and because my aunt is one of those more-pretentious-than-me people who watches British television and has a wine cooler, I remember switching the channel to something else every time she came by my room.

Which is pretty ridiculous considering I was literally watching a PG television show and not porn.

The reason was some time in my childhood--I don't remember when--I asked to watch a show--I don't know what show it was, it might've been Happy Camp--and my aunt looked at me, appalled, and was like, "You watch that kind of trash? Isn't that kind of show for idiots?"

And I was just kind of like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

As you can tell, that conversation has stayed with me. My aunt is living with our family right now, and even now, I feel a little sheepish watching my dramas or listening to my music.

(let me explain. my aunt came downstairs one day, and was just casually like, "Liszt is pretty good, huh?" and i was like lol um what.)

(she sits on the toilet and listens to the orchestra as she pees.)

(help.)

This is partially why I have these questions. But the bigger reason why is because I took a shower and great thoughts and questions come when you take a shower.

Is a television show created with the simple intention to entertain the viewer somehow less than one with an overarching message?

How do you judge what is a "good" and therefore, worthwhile show and what isn't?

There is a Chinese drama that's received high ratings, but many people started questioning whether or not it deserved those ratings, because it was a simple love story between two people and wasn't particularly meaningful.

But, if the ratings are given by the audience, then shouldn't that mean that it is a good TV show?

(but then, when have the masses ever been the best judges for quality? cough produce 101 cough)

But, if public opinion is not the best judge for quality, then what is?

The opinion of experts?

(that's so pretentious.) 

But also, if something is produced for free, mass consumption, shouldn't its success be measured by its reception? And shouldn't its quality, thereby, be measured by its success?

I've always had this question about books too. Like, what determines the books we read in a high school English class? Why are these particular books considered the Greats?

Why is Shakespeare so famous?

(don't brick me)

When I was in Shanghai and browsing a bookstore, I heard someone say, "Let's just come in for the AC. Most of the books are 畅销 books anyways, and not worth reading." The group she came in with agreed.

I have seen the words 畅销 before, because I watch a ridiculous amount of TV dramas derived from 畅销 books, but I never searched up the definition. Based on the person's disdainful tone and the way people talked about 畅销 books, I assumed it meant young adult, or genre fiction. Something like that?

But when I asked my cousin what it meant, she said, "Oh, it means bestseller."

And I was like. ???? What.

Evidently, readership and mass opinion have not been perceived as good judges for quality.

Fiction is judged by the usual narrative devices--plot, characterization, flow, theme, etc. But, ultimately, I think it is important to look at reception as well.

Why does a particular story and/or TV drama receive higher ratings and viewership than another? Is it the fault of the audience or of the directors/scriptwriters/actors/production company/country's censorship laws cough cough CHINA cough cough cough/etc.? 

I think analyzing the narrative devices is an exciting conversation, but in media, there are more factors involved than just the author's mind.

And that isn't a conversation that you can easily have when your aunt looks over at you watching SCI: Journal of Mysterious Cases and scoffs. 

(cEnSoRsHiP and LaCk Of FuNdS!!!)

(this is part of a larger discussion around genre fiction and literary fiction and literary merit that i loathe)

(but i feel like i'm in it. i'm in the part i hate omfg)

I feel like a big part of why I feel sheepish watching dramas at home is because ultimately, what you like is an indication of who you are.

Like when people say you get to know a lot about a person by looking at their bookshelf or Spotify playlist.

But, see, this is a very unidimensional way of viewing the world. All these things are indications of who you are, but not definitions of who you are.

There are multiple levels to this sort of perception. There's recognizing this is what you like, generalizing it to who you are as a person, and then making a value judgment on you about it. 

(i.e. You like Harry Potter. You like genre fiction. You are shallow and have no taste in literature.)

But this process should end at step one.

Honestly, there's nothing wrong with watching trash television. Keeping Up With the Kardashians is difficult to put down once I start because I'm so intrigued by the otherworldliness of their lives. I routinely follow YouTuber drama because it's interesting and I'm nosy. Sometimes, I just want to watch two people fall in love and be dumb and cute and not get anything out of it, because life is complicated enough.

There's nothing wrong with watching trash television or a TV drama with unrealistic, poorly written characters, but I do think it's important to recognize the larger flaws of storytelling, especially when it has to do with portraying the human condition.

Media does an incredible part in shaping someone's perspective. I don't think there's anything wrong with portraying violence, rape, bullying, or suicide in television (provided there's a trigger warning), because it is an integral part of life. But, I think it is crucial, and also the social responsibility of content creators, to foster a better future through media. Media shouldn't justify or glorify these actions, but rather, acknowledge that they are negative and show the real world repercussions of them. If you are going to bring up these societal faults, you have to address them as well.

(this is easier said than done, especially when it comes to the smaller issues in life.)

Itazura Na Kiss is a drama that, in my 2020 mindset, falls behind on that standard. Not because it glorifies bullying, but because it portrays an emotionally manipulative relationship between two characters, where the girl is defined in relation to the guy, and that's that. Happily ever after.

But, Itazura Na Kiss also received incredible reception and was remade into a number of dramas and most recently, a movie. This is what concerns me. As our social consciousness evolved to respecting female characters and seeing them as more than an accessory to the male lead, how come the 2019 movie did not show that?

I can understand Itazura Na Kiss gaining traction in the past, just like how I can understand Grease being a very popular movie in the 70s and 80s despite being incredibly sexist. I struggle to understand it in 2020.

This is why I like Le Coup De Foudre. It takes all the tropes that were popular in 1990 and modernizes them so they become palatable to the 2019 audience. It creates two incredibly human and multidimensional characters and introduces them to a simulation where they meet in high school, 2006, one desk by the window.

(see, isn't it that kind of writing that's breathtaking and akin to the power of god?)

song rec: lil ghost - don’t call me davinci

[lovemesomesurveys]

SEVEN DEADLY SINS Sin 1: Lust 1. Who was the last person you checked out? Did they check you out too? It’s been a looooooong time, honestly.  2. Who was the last person you desired, but they didn’t feel the same? Ty. 3. Ever cheated on a significant other? If so, have you learned from it? No. 4. Do you watch porn? No, not my thing.

5. Do you masturbate? No.

6. Best physical features on your preferred sex? Eyes, smile, hair, jaw line, arms. A nice stomach is nice, too. 7. Who are some celebrities that you think are totally hot? Alexander Skarsgard. 8. Did you ever lust after a best friend’s significant other? How did it turn out? No. 9. When was the last time you had sex? I’m a virgin.  10. Ever pursued someone, even though they were taken? No. Sin 2: Gluttony 1. When did you last eat at a restaurant? What restaurant was it? IHOP a couple weeks ago with my mom after doing some Christmas shopping. 2. When did you last have fast food? Where did you get it? For breakfast on Christmas day we had breakfast sandwiches from Jack in the Box. 3. What was the biggest meal you had all day? Nothing so far today, it’s only 1:54AM.  4. Do you have too many clothes? How often do you go shopping? Yes. I need to go through and get rid of stuff. It’s something I need to do soon. 5. What’s something you have a LOT of? Clothes and giraffe stuffed animals. 6. Do you eat a lot? Not really. I should be eating a lot more. 7. What was the last thing you splurged (spent a lot of money) on? Christmas presents. I always get a little too carried away for Christmas, but I love spoiling my family when I can. 8. What do you spend most of your money on (besides bills and anything necessary like that)? Clothes and coffee. 9. Last time you ate candy? What was it? I don’t remember. I haven’t had candy in such a long time. 10. Last thing you ate too much of? I’ve had Wingstop and pizza from my favorite pizza place a lot lately, but I love it. Sin 3: Greed 1. Do you share things? How often? Yes. I don’t know how often? I share what I can, when I can. 2. Someone asks you for a piece of your cookie. You break it in half, but the pieces aren’t equal. Who gets the bigger piece? I always give the other person more of whatever it is we’re splitting. 3. When you see change on the ground, do you pick it up? Rarely. 4. How often do you lend money to people? I don’t get asked often. More often I treat my family to things when I can, but if they ever needed to borrow money and I was able to lend it, then I certainly would.  5. Do you loooove money? Unfortunately, it’s necessary and I’d be lying if I said I wish I didn’t have a little more of it.  6. If someone offers to pay for you, do you decline or readily accept? If it’s my parents or brother, I’ll accept. I feel comfortable enough to, and I pay for them sometimes as well. If it’s someone else, I’ll decline unless they’re really persistent about it, but I’ll treat them the next time. 7. Which of your friends is the wealthiest? I don’t have any friends. 8. Would you take a high-paying job that you didn’t really like just for the money and benefits? Not if I was just absolutely miserable.  9. Ever stole from anyone? What about stole from a store? What happened? Only when I was a kid. I thought the candy in the big candy bins was free. :X 10. Do you ever have enough money? My family and I have a roof over our head, food to eat, clothes to wear, bills are paid, and we have nice things. Things definitely get stressful, though. Some months tend to be harder than others, financially. I, personally, would like to have more of it, but I’m able to have the necessities.  Sin 4: Sloth 1. Last thing you procrastinated on? Life. 2. When you’re at a strip mall and the next store you want to go to is at the other side, do you drive over there instead of take a short walk? I usually just head over there, but it would depend on how far the next store is. 3. What’s a typical day off of school and/or work like for you? I’m finished with school and I don’t have a job, but a typical day for me consists of checking social media, watching TV, watching YouTube, Tumblr, surveys, and resting. Lately I’ve also been playing my Nintendo Switch because I recently got Luigi’s Mansion 3, which I had been wanting to play since it came out. 4. What’s one talent you have that you don’t really work on, even though you have the ability to be good at it? I don’t have any. 5. How many hours of television do you watch a day? It really varies. Most of the time it’s on for background noise more than anything, but it depends on the day and what’s on. I multitask, so I tune in and out to what’s on unless it’s a new episode of a favorite show.  6. What about the amount of time you spend on the internet a day? I’m always either on my laptop or on my phone doing something, even if just watching YouTube.   7. How many hours of sleep do you get a day? Do you sleep in late? Lately, my sleep schedule has been from like 4AM to 12-1PM.  8. Do you drive to places that are less than three blocks away? I don’t drive, personally, but yeah my family and I take the car everywhere.  9. When was the last time you exercised? Uhhhh. 10. Ever copied and pasted your homework from a website on the internet? No. Sin 5: Wrath 1. If you could kill one person and get away with it, would you do it? No! 2. Is there anyone you honestly and truly can say that you hate? Besides myself, no. 3. Is there anyone you want revenge on, whether you want to get them back big-time or just play a little prank on them for hurting your feelings? No. I’m not a revengeful person. 4. Are you fighting with any friends right now? Why? No friends, so no. 5. Last time you were really angry? What happened? Blah. 6. When you’re angry, what do you do to calm yourself down? When I’m angry I shut down and just cry. 7. “Hate is just the fear of loving someone.” true or false? I wouldn’t say that. 8. What’s the best revenge you ever got on someone? I don’t seek revenge. 9. Was there any hard feelings after your last break-up? On whose end was it on? He broke things off with me, and there was definitely hard feelings on my end. He seemed completely unfazed.  10. Ever been cheated on? How did that make you feel? No. Sin 6: Envy 1. Is there anyone you’re jealous of? Name a person and tell us why. This is the envy section and envy and jealousy are different things. I am envious of certain types of people. 2. List three physical features some other people have that you’re envious of (no need to get specific and name people; you can just say something like “brown eyes” or “having perfect eyebrows”). Blue or green eyes, nice, shiny, thick hair that styles well, perfect shiny white teeth, fit bodies... 3. List three personality features that other people have that you’re envious of. Outgoing, intelligent, witty, adventurous, driven and ambitious, talented... 4. Are you a jealous significant other? I’m single. 5. Could you date someone who was really jealous? No. If they’re the possessive and abusive type, then absolutely not. 6. What celebrity’s looks do you envy the most? All the gorgeous ones. 7. Do you think anyone is envious of you? In your opinion, what characteristics (physical and mental) do you possess that you think someone might be envious of? HA, no. 8. What are a few things you wish you were good at? I wish I could play the piano, sing, draw, be an adult... 9. Did you ever date someone, break up, and then see them dating someone very attractive a few days later? Were you jealous of that person? No. 10. When looking at a love interest’s exes, do you often find yourself jealous of their good-looking exes? It has happened. Sin 7: Pride 1. What’s something you brag about a lot (be honest–we all brag sometimes)? I’m honestly probably the most non-braggy person you’ll ever meet. There, I guess that’s me bragging about something.  <<< Haaaa, same. I have nothing else to brag about. Also, bragging isn’t a cute look anyway. It’s one thing to be proud of yourself and your accomplishments, but bragging is another level. 2. What physical features do you take the most pride in? None. 3. Are you satisfied with what you have? Some things. 4. Be honest… when someone is telling you something, do you often change the subject so it’s about you and your accomplishments instead? Nooo, I’m very much the opposite. I shift the conversation away from me and towards them.  5. Do you like talking about your achievements? What achievements? 6. Do your parents tend to brag about how well you came out? My parents like to share that I went to a good college and got my BA in psych. Sounds all good when just left at that. Too bad I haven’t done anything at all since graduating and that degree is just collecting dust. I don’t even want to pursue that anymore. I have no idea what I want to do. If I’m being honest, I don’t want to do anything. :X  7. Do you strive to be better than others? Do you think competing with others is healthy? Ha, clearly not. 8. What do you do better than most people? Nothingggg. 9. Do you believe in taking pride in things you can’t control (ex. being proud of your heritage, being proud of your skin color, being proud of your natural artistic ability)? Sure.  10. Who are you competing with right now (it could be anything–classmates for a grade, co-workers for a position, other girl for a guy, etc.)? I don’t feel Im competing with anyone. I’m not even in the running.

[justheretobreakthings]

Welcome to the Family - Chapter 6

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Word Count: 3,049 (Total Word Count: 15,010) Read on AO3

Story Summary: Lance had been excited about his family taking in a foster kid, eager to get to meet his brand new little brother or sister, who would surely adore and idolize their super cool Big Brother Lance. What he got instead was a sullen, quiet, temperamental teenage housemate with a criminal record and a disastrous haircut.

The days leading up to the beginning of the school year were both too long and not long enough. Too long because there wasn’t a whole lot for Keith to occupy his time with. That was, admittedly, at least a little his own fault, as he spent the vast majority of his time in his room rather than downstairs where things were actually happening.

But it was easier on him this way. The TV in the front room was usually taken, and he didn’t want to interfere with anyone else’s use. Even when it wasn’t, the room was right there adjacent to the stairs and the basement entrance and the front door, all which were constantly trafficked. No way would he be able to relax amidst all that. And there was a family computer in the basement, but it faced outward into the room at large, and Keith hated the feeling of people looking over his shoulder while he was online, no matter how innocuous his browsing may be. Besides, Rachel had brought her trumpet home from summer band on Friday to practice it over the weekend, and the basement was her prefered practice space, so that was.

Tania, after noticing just how much time Keith spent hibernating in his room, had ordered a small used television for it online - despite Keith’s insistence that it wasn’t necessary, and hadn’t she already blown enough money on him over the past few days anyway - but they still had to wait for the delivery.

So the meantime was whiled away by re-reading his books and cautiously trying out the art supplies Tania had bought him for school. He didn’t think much of his artistic abilities, but it was one of the only creative outlets suggested by past therapists and social workers that actually clicked with him. He wouldn’t normally have asked his foster family for supplies, but Altea High required every student to take at least one year of a fine arts elective, so registering for art class had actually been a reason to need them.

The days were not long enough, though, in that, in spite of the way time had dragged, Keith still hadn’t managed to properly make himself feel ready to return to school by the time Monday morning rolled around. He woke early in the morning to a knocking at his door and Manuel’s voice telling him it was time to get up, and went downstairs to an unusually elaborate first-day-of-school breakfast, which Lance and Rachel both ate rather robotically, still adjusting to the waking world after a summer of sleeping in.

He threw on his clothes for the day - some dark gray jeans and a short-sleeved flannel that had formerly been Marco’s and which, to Keith’s surprise, had actually fit him pretty much perfectly, and were in better shape than most of Keith’s own clothes anyhow - and managed to get to the bathroom to finish his morning routine before Lance got to it. He had already managed to learn just how elaborate Lance’s ablutions were, and true to form, he kept Keith and Rachel waiting impatiently downstairs for twenty minutes in order to get his hair and face ‘perfect’. Even though when he finally was satisfied and came to join them, Keith could swear Lance looked exactly the same as he always did.

Rachel led the way out the door, slipping into the driver’s seat of an old scratched-up LeSabre parked at the curb. “You can take shotgun if you want,” she said to Lance as he opened the door of the seat behind her.

“God, no thanks,” Lance said. “I’ve seen you drive. I’m sitting where I’m most likely to survive when you inevitably crash us headlong into the auditorium.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Oh, whatever. Keith will sit up front with me, right, Keith?”

“Uh, sure,” Keith said, opening the door and carefully sliding into the seat.

“Do what you want,” Lance said. “But don’t be surprised if you’re the first to go.”

“Shut up, Lance,” Rachel said as she turned the key in the ignition. She shifted the car into drive and started down the road.

“Tell Keith how many tries it took you to pass your driving test.”

“I passed it eventually, it doesn’t matter.”

“Five tries. And on the third try she ran over a - ”

Rachel cut him off by speeding up and then braking hard at the stop sign on the corner, sending Keith lurching forward and Lance’s face knocking into her headrest. “Oops,” she said flatly. “Sorry, Lance, guess I’m just a bad driver.”

“Vete a la mierda,” Lance muttered, rubbing his forehead with a scowl.

“I’m telling Mamá you’re teaching Keith bad words,” said Rachel.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Keith managed to tune them out not long into the drive. He pulled his feet onto the seat and his knees up to his chest, letting all his focus drift to the buildings and trees and street signs they passed as he stared out the car window, trying to familiarize himself with the new surroundings, look out for landmarks that would make the route easier to remember if he needed to walk to or from school any time soon. Occasionally certain foster families of the past would forget to take him to school or pick him up. Or maybe do so intentionally. He could never be certain.

Lance and Rachel managed to keep up their light bickering all the way up until they pulled into the student parking lot, where Rachel had to try twice to park between the lines of her selected parking space, to Lance’s amusement. Despite Lance’s elaborate morning routine, it seemed they had still managed to arrive at school earlier than most, since the majority of the parking spaces were still empty. That was good. Keith still needed to stop by the front office to pick up his finalized schedule, and the last thing he needed was for that to make him late on the first day of school.

He parted ways from the McClains at the entrance, where they set off to their lockers and Keith to the front office. It was fairly crowded when he entered, students and a few parents trying to get some last-minute arrangements made before classes began. Keith hovered near the doorway, not wanting to barge past anyone or draw undue attention to himself by going to the receptionist.

In the midst of debating how he was going to go about asking for his schedule, his thoughts were interrupted by his name being called. The door to the guidance counselor’s office, adjacent to the front office, had been flung open, and Mr. Smythe stood in the entryway, waving him over.

Keith let out a breath and hurried over. Mr. Smythe was a recognizable presence, if a rather overwhelming one. He was a difficult person to forget, between the shock of bright orange hair on his head to the elaborate matching mustache, from his shoulderpadded blazer to his distinct accent. He’d certainly left an impression when Keith and Tania had met with him a few days prior.

“Keith, my boy, good to see you again!” Mr. Smythe said, beckoning him toward the office. “Come in, come in, I was just about to get your schedule printed up for you.” Keith followed him into the little office silently. He wasn’t sure how long this would take, so he opted to keep standing rather than take a seat in one of the chairs along the wall by the door.

“Now,” Mr. Smythe said, plopping himself into his own chair and turning to his computer screen. “I fit you into the art elective you wanted and made room for you in one of the Spanish 1 classes that fit the rest of your schedule. We also managed to get a gym uniform in for you in your size in time for you to be able to participate in your Phys. Ed. class today, so you can let Señora McClain know she needn’t worry about that.”

“Okay,” Keith said.

The printer on Mr. Smythe’s desk whirred as the counselor swiveled his chair to face Keith directly. “Regarding your core classes,” he continued. “For most of them we’ve decided to go ahead and place you in the standard sophomore level courses. I understand that there may be a few concepts from freshman courses that may need to be reviewed for you, but I’ve given your teachers fair warning ahead of time, so they’re aware that you may need a little bit of one-on-one assistance. Don’t be afraid to ask for it. I’ve also gone ahead and gotten you signed up for peer tutoring during your study hall block, so that could be a means to help you catch up.”

“Oh.” Keith’s shoulders slumped and he lowered his gaze. The whole situation was embarrassing, him being as far behind in school as he was. He knew he wasn’t stupid - despite what certain foster family members or classmates had told him in the past - but between constantly switching schools, his discipline record, assignments and books gone missing, the absolute joke of ‘education’ that the juvenile center had stuck him with all through last school year, and a decade of intense stress as the icing on the cake, well… he was probably lucky that his grades weren’t even worse.

“The only class that we couldn’t put you in sophomore level for was your Mathematics requirement,” Mr. Smythe was continuing, and Keith shook himself back into the present. “Seeing as the syllabus is much more linear than your other core classes. We’ve placed you in Algebra 1. However, if you put some elbow grease into your studies, Ms. Ryner has said that she would be happy to work with you to map out an independent study curriculum to get you back on track. If you go that route, you can have Pre-Calculus finished by graduation, same as the majority of your classmates. Of course, only Algebra 2 is a required credit for graduation, but colleges will be looking for - ”

“The regular track is fine, Mr. Smythe,” Keith said, immediately wincing afterward when he realized he had just interrupted.

Mr. Smythe, fortunately, didn’t seem to take offense at the interruption, and instead simply gave him a brief nod before pulling the schedule out of the printer tray and handing it to him. “Well, the option is available all this semester in case you change your mind. We’ll be happy to make accommodations.”

“Thanks,” Keith grunted. He accepted the paper and scanned the schedule.

“And Keith?”

“Mm?”

“That doesn’t just apply to classes.” Keith looked back up from the schedule to find Mr. Smythe’s gaze fixed firmly on him, intense and sincere. “If you are having any difficulties adjusting here, any concerns, or if you just need someone to talk to. My job isn’t just schedule planning and test prep, you know.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “Why… are you telling me that?”

Mr. Smythe shrugged. “Thought I’d make the offer. It’s never easy for a new student to transition, and I know you have a bit of a, ah, colorful history in school settings - ”

“Who told you that?” Keith snapped.

“Your transcripts,” Mr. Smythe replied simply.

“... Oh.”

“Of course, it’s entirely up to you if you want to meet with me or not,” Mr. Smythe continued. “Señora McClain did inquire about it, but doesn’t want to force anything. Just be aware, my door is always open.” He leaned back in his chair and swiveled his gaze to his computer. “Feel free to run along, now, Keith. Wouldn’t want to make you late for your first class.”

“Um, right,” Keith said, hesitating only a moment before backing out the door, pulling it closed behind him.

His next stop was his locker, and thankfully he remembered where that was from the school tour he’d been given last week, and it was close, only two halls down from the administrative wing. The hallway was crowded when he got there, and he clung to the straps of his backpack tightly as he wove his way through the mass of students and to his locker.

He hung his backpack onto the hook and grabbed some supplies for his morning classes. Biology was the first listed on the sheet that Mr. Smythe had given him, located in room 224, which was… he wasn’t sure where. It was a lot to remember after only a single tour.

Biting his lip, he looked around the crowd of students. Lockers were grouped by year, so this hallway should be full of sophomores, which hopefully meant that a familiar face was nearby. After a few moments of scanning, he spotted an orange headband poking up from the crowd, taller than most of the other students around, and he set off in that direction. He recognized that headband, he was pretty sure, and the odds of another student in the same school having that same particular taste in hair accessories seemed slim.

Sure enough, the boy with the headband was the same as the one who had been visiting the house the other day, and Lance was with him, chatting idly while leaning up against a nearby locker, the girl who’d been with them there as well, standing with her arms wrapped around a bright green trapper keeper.

The boy - Keith couldn’t quite recall his name; Hank, maybe? - noticed his approach, and greeted him with a smile and a wave, that got the others’ attention and had them turning to him as well. “Hey Keith!” he said brightly.

“Hey...” Keith said in return.

“Hunk,” the boy supplied. Oh, well, he had been close.

“Right.” He cleared his throat and held up his schedule to the others. “Do, um, do you guys know - could one of you show me - um, room 224?”

“Here, lemme see that,” Lance said, snatching the schedule out of Keith’s hand to examine. “Huh, same bio class as me, so you can just follow me there. Same lunch blocks too, looks like. And English, and computer science… and gym…” He raised a brow at Keith. “You stalking me, man? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but - ”

“I’m not stalking you,” Keith said, glaring as he grabbed his schedule back from him. “I didn’t pick the schedule.”

“Relax, I’m joking. Just making sure you’re aware how blessed you are to have me in so many of your classes.”

“I see we’re playing fast and loose with the definition of the word ‘blessed’ this morning,” the girl remarked, and for the life of him Keith couldn’t remember what her name was.

“Pidge here is just jealous of you,” Lance said to Keith. Pidge, then. Keith repeated it in his head a few times to commit it to memory.

“I am jealous of no one,” Pidge said. “I’ve got most of my classes with Hunk, so if anyone should be jealous, it’s you.”

“Aww, Pidge,” Hunk said with a smile. “That’s sweet of you to - wait, what do you want?”

“Your cookie at lunch.”

“No.”

“Then I take back my compliment.”

“All right, well,” Lance straightened up from the row of lockers and stretched. “Come on Keith, I’ll show you where Biology. Let’s give these two some privacy to get their flirt on.”

He made a gesture to follow as he stepped away, as Hunk let out an indignant squawk and Pidge stuck her tongue out at him. Keith hurried to fall into place next to him. “Wait, those two are dating?” he asked.

Lance smirked. “Heh, nah, they just get annoyed when I say they are. So, of course, I say it all the time. Why, you looking to get together with one of them? Because I gotta tell you, I don’t think you’re either of their type - for a number of reasons.”

Keith grimaced and shook his head. “No, I don’t date.”

“Huh,” said Lance. “Guess I’ll have to tell Pidge she was right.”

“What?”

“Here we are,” Lance said, dropping the subject abruptly and gesturing grandly into the doorway of a classroom. “Welcome to the Joy of Biology.”

He moved toward the back to plop into an empty desk, and Keith followed along behind him, staring straight ahead and watching the other students in the corners of his vision. Cautiously he edged toward the desk beside Lance’s. “So, do we just sit anywhere, or - ?”

He paused when he realized that Lance was already striking up a conversation with the occupant of his other desk neighbor, a girl with wire-frame glasses and a thick black ponytail. Deciding not to disturb them, Keith slid silently into the open desk, setting his notebook and folder on the desk’s surface and opting to simply remain quiet until class began.

The teacher, Mrs. Montgomery, arrived right before the bell rang and the students who were still standing as they chatted amongst themselves, presumably catching up after the summer break, hastened into the empty desks that remained. She thankfully didn’t try any sort of first day of school look-what-a-cool-teacher-I-am opening stunt, and instead opened the class fairly dully, dropping a stack of syllabi onto one of the desks in the front row for the students to pass around and returning to the front podium to read out the roll call.

It wasn’t exactly a big social occasion or anything worse being nervous over, but he still rehearsed saying ‘here’ in his head a dozen times over so that he was prepared when she called his name. “Kogane, Keith.”

“Here,” he replied.

He may have messed it up somehow anyway, though, because a kid sitting two desks away jumped in his seat and whipped his head around at the sound of Keith’s voice to look him up and down. He had floppy brown bangs and a sharply angled face, and the moment his gaze met Keith’s, his eyes widened and he quickly turned away again.

Keith narrowed his eyes at the back of the kid’s head. Something about his face struck him as vaguely familiar, just a twinge of recognition in his gut. He wracked his mind, but he couldn’t place it, and he reluctantly let the matter drop from his thoughts when the teacher finished with roll call and started passing out the textbooks.

[xaapancakecakes]

UPDATE

I’ve been SUPER lost since the year started and I finally decided to make an official post where I talk a little bit about it and finally TRY TO COME BACK, this time for real.

I was enduring a really toxic environment. My A-Parents (My “adoptive” parents, not legally but agreed with my real parents so I could have an education, medicine, clothes and well... a life) pressured me to the point of literally breaking me. 

I stopped accepting money from them when I graduated from college two years ago, but I was earning too little and I occasionally sent money to my Mother, which caused me to accumulate more and more stress every passing month. 

Around this time last year my A-Mom started to be more and more toxic. I was used to it so I tried to endure it as a ‘payment’ for the education and everything they’ve paid because of me in the last 6 years. But she started to be really shitty towards my mother, specially my father and my brother. I tried to talk to her and I ended up insulted and manipulated because of the money she spent on me over the years.

My mother was sick and I was really scared, I quit my two jobs and moved in with her to help her (My parents, A-Parents and I, we all live in different cities). I used ALL of my savings on those 4 months and I stayed jobless another two (barely surviving with bad paid freelances). I was drowning in debts but I never asked my A-Parents for money, even when they even begged me to accept it. I didn’t want to be controlled ever again because of money.

I got a relatively good job in February. 70% of my salary goes to pay my debts and send money to my mother, the other 30% is for me to pay my rent, food and other things I need to exist. Naturally, I was really depressed. 

I didn’t have much money so I just slept all day and stayed home. In April I decided to try and be more positive, so I started to draw more and do exercise. May was specially busy and June was my relapse.

It’s been really hard for me to talk with people, even in real life. It was really hard for me to admit to everyone that I didn’t have any money and that I was really, really depressed. I’m trying to open up more, because I’m scared of how I’m feeling. My best friend even took me to Chicago to the PokemonGo Fest to cheer me up.

I felt really great on May doing Mermay and doing exercise after work, trying to make some friends and interacting more with everyone, so I’ll keep doing it until my debts are fully paid. I still owe 1100 USD, but I’m feeling more positive about it. It just seems to close to be fully paid!!

I’m really sorry, I know it felt I ignored some people and I suddenly disappeared from Tumblr. Starting tomorrow I’ll try to be more active, and keep reminding myself that I’m not alone.

I haven’t spoken to my A-Parents since December. It feels weird, I feel bad about doing this, but our relationship was literally killing me. For better or worse, I am alive today and I’ve done great, even without their help.

[missnight0wl]

Shattered

Summary: Ben is going through the hardest times and Charlie is the best friend you can wish for.

Inspired by their lines during DADA classes.

Words: 1560

1988

After the events of year four, Ben Copper was shattered. The last days of school he spent hiding from his friends, although, he wasn’t sure if he could still call them that. He felt too ashamed of what he had done, too scared. He was especially avoiding her, one of few people who had shown him true kindness over the years. Luckily, she was in another House. It was way harder to escape from his roommate.

Ben was getting up very early in the morning when all the students were still asleep. He was leaving classrooms possibly quickly to wander around the castle by himself, just to not have to talk to anyone. Nobody actually tried, really, except for Charlie. He made an attempt to start a conversation a couple of times, but there was always someone to interrupt them. It changed only on the train back home. Ben was sitting in an empty compartment when suddenly the door opened.

“Can I join you?” asked Charlie. “Just for a moment,” he added quickly.

“I’d really rather not, to be honest…”

But he didn’t listen. He closed the door behind him and sat in front of Ben. He appeared very determined. And worried.

“Look, Benny,” he started calmly but firmly. “I want you to know that I don’t blame you for what happened in the Courtyard. I want to help you. If you’d like to talk with me…”

“I’m not ready,” interrupted Ben. “I’m sorry…”

“All right.” He looked at his friend in silence for a while, despite him avoiding any eye contact. “Just promise me,” he said finally, “that you let me know when you’re ready. Send me an owl, anything.”

Ben knew Charlie wouldn’t go otherwise, so he gave the nod. It wasn’t the most satisfying answer, but it had to do. The redhead was about to leave when he turned around one more time.

“She doesn’t blame you either, you know.”

Well, she probably should.

It didn’t get any easier during summer. It was unlikely that someone would want to make Ben hurt his parents, but there was a tiny possibility, and it was enough. Mr and Mrs Copper didn’t know what happened to their son, they didn’t know much about his school at all. Not because they didn’t care; Ben had simply decided it’s better that way. They were so happy when he got his letter from Hogwarts, especially his mum. How could he break their illusion of the magical world? How could he tell them that he was usually afraid of everything? That he almost killed someone because he was controlled by the dark force? No, there’s no need to worry them. They had gone through enough therapies already when he was a kid.

At the same time, his insomnia became a lot worse. He had gotten pretty good at pretending at home, but he was more and more tired, and it was hard to focus on anything. He was almost glad when it was time to go back to the platform nine and three-quarters. At least, he wouldn’t have to be troubled about parents anymore.  

It was Barnaby this time who found him and dragged him to the Hogwarts Express where they joined Penny, Tonks, Tulip, and Andre. Everybody tried to act normal, talking about their holidays, and while Ben appreciated it, he didn’t speak much himself. He wasn’t a very talkative person in general, so it probably didn’t seem odd. He even survived the Welcoming Feast somehow, and the first night. It wasn’t so well on the second…

For some reason, his anxiety came back with even more power. Not that he slept before, but now he was terrified of losing his consciousness even for a moment. He decided it’d be easier to stay awake if he sat on the floor; he didn’t want to be too comfortable. Just as he was looking into the darkness, a silent sob came out of him.

“Ben?” he heard Charlie’s whisper.

There was some rustle after that, and a moment later, Weasley appeared next to him, holding his lit wand.

“Bloody hell, I forgot to take my dragon slippers…” he muttered. “Can’t sleep too, mate?”

He sat next to him, curling his bare feet. It was just the beginning of September, but the floor was always rather cold in the castle.

“It’s going to be a pretty stressful year,” he continued in a low voice, not waiting for an answer. “I’m starting to understand Bill’s complaints.”

Ben smiled weakly. It must’ve been nice to have such insight from your sibling.

“Hey, I was thinking,” spoke Charlie. “Could you help me with that spell from today’s class? I don’t really get it.”

“Like now?” asked Ben surprised.

“No, not necessary,” he chuckled. “But maybe tomorrow?”

Ben nodded. Helping his friends with Charms was actually something he felt good about.

“Remember when I had problems with Engorio?” Charlie leaned on the frame of the bed, trying to find the right position. “We were practising the whole weekend…”

“On the sweets sent by my mum,” added Ben. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Y’know, now that I think about it, it had to be quite bad spells, after all, at least mine. That chocolate tasted awful.”

“Maybe it’s just not to your liking?”

“No way, I’ve eaten it in normal size too, and it’s delicious.” Just a memory of it brought a grin on his face. “I don’t know, maybe it works only on butterbeer.”

They both laughed. The snoring coming from Jae Kim’s side of the room stopped suddenly, so they hushed each other, but apparently, their roommate just turned on the other side. It was really hard to wake that one up.

“I’m sorry, Charlie. For what happened.”

“I’ve told you it’s fine. It wasn’t your fault.” He seemed genuine, there wasn’t the slightest sign of resentment in his voice. “Should we try to get some sleep?”

Ben agreed, only because he felt bad about Charlie staying up with him. The next day around midnight, however, he decided to evacuate to the Common Room instead, to not draw anyone’s attention. By some means, Gryffindor prefect followed shortly after him.

“Are you avoiding me again, Ben?”

“No,” he lied. “I just didn’t want to wake you…”

Charlie gave him a disapproving look but didn’t comment. He sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace, so Ben had no choice but to take place next to him. For someone as easy-going as Charlie, he could be surprisingly stubborn.

They were talking a lot that night, and the next ones as well. It became kind of their habit: when Ben couldn’t lie on the bed anymore, he was going down to the Common Room, and Charlie was joining him moments later. They didn’t really settle it, it just happened. At first, it was mostly Charlie who was carrying on the conversation. He shared his concerns about handling his responsibilities: being a prefect, playing Quidditch, and of course, studying for O.W.L.s. He admitted how worried he was that his future as a dragonologist, his biggest dream, depends on those exams. He tried to not talk about dragons themselves to not make his friend nervous. It turned out that Ben didn’t really know how to approach that big test ahead of them because he hadn’t figure out what to do after graduation – so they were wondering about it together. The next day, Ben joined the Astronomy Club.  

Shortly after the start of the year, Penny’s sister got trapped in the portrait. They both were anxious about this situation, and they wanted to help. Nevertheless, Charlie was trying to focus on more positive things during their little sessions. He was describing how it is to grow up in the wizarding family and how fun it could be. He told about their magical family clock, proving that everybody is trying to take control over their fears somehow and there’s nothing wrong about it.

He also asked Ben a lot about his muggle childhood. He listened very carefully so he could repeat it later to his father. They agreed to finally visit each other in summer.

One night, when Charlie was going down the stairs, he heard some voices. It was his older brother talking with Ben. Bill must’ve been studying to his N.E.W.T.s.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Bill.”

“Wow, you look terrible, Charlie,” he greeted him lovingly. “Go back to bed.”

“No, I can stay with you two,” younger Weasley protested.

“Bill is right,” joined Ben, a bit more strongly than normal. “You need to rest.”

“McGonagall will be pissed off if we lose the next game,” pointed out the Head Boy.

Charlie wanted to say something on that, but Bill’s face told him there’s no point to argue. And he was in fact quite tired.

“Are you sure…?” he asked, for formality sakes.

“Yeah, I will take care of Benny.”

The following day Charlie was well-rested, but he also felt guilty. Going to bed, he promised himself that he wouldn’t leave Ben again. So when he woke up later than usual, he panicked. He jumped off his place and was about to leave when he noticed that Copper’s bed wasn’t empty. Ben was lying in there, and it looked like he was sleeping soundly.

Charlie smiled to himself. Maybe everything will work out eventually.

[toloveawarlord]

Must Be Love (Ch. 1)

You can find all my other works here!

                This is so hard. Why is school so difficult for me? Minami is a genius! Chiaki, Toma, and Rei are right up there with him. It doesn’t seem like they have to try very hard to do anything! Mei isn’t here. Shizuka won’t be back till late from his photo shoot. Sighing heavily, I gathered my school book and notes. I’m the idiot of the Kira family it seems. I make good grades, because I’d get in so much trouble if I didn’t, but it takes hours of studying and cramming for me to understand the material.

              Thankfully, no one was in the hallway to comment on my appearance. I hadn’t bothered to change out of my sweatpants and tank top, or put on any kind of make up today. Not exactly what the Kira image is all about. Knocking on the door, I shifted my weight to one leg impatiently. The door swung open suddenly. “Are you busy?” I asked, giving him a pitiful look.

              Chiaki’s eyes dropped to the math book in my hand for a moment before he met my gaze. With a sigh, he smiled and pulled the door open further. “I can take a break to help you study, Kaede.”

              Hugging my book to my chest, I couldn’t help but grin. “Good, cause I wasn’t going to leave even if you said no.”

              He made me sit at the table in his kitchen, pulling up a chair next to me. The best thing about getting help from Chiaki was that he didn’t press me for a quick answer. He explained things slowly and helped me figure out where I’d gone wrong. Sometimes Toma would get annoyed with how long it took for me to understand what he considered to be simple mathematics. Both of us looked up when the door opened.

              “Oh, I’m sorry,” a girl said. She was one of the concierges here… right? She’s been assigned to working the sweet room and our wing of the hotel recently. “I apologize for interrupting.” In her hands was some dry cleaning.

              “Try this one, Kaede. I’ll be right back,” Chiaki ruffled my hair and stood to go speak with her. The two disappeared into the master bedroom, where I couldn’t hear what they were talking about.

              Tapping my pencil on the paper, I chewed on my lip. Take the equation one step at a time. I get too overwhelmed with the size of the question. The minutes seemed to tick by slowly as I tried to work out the answer to this question. Checking the math twice, I circled the answer.

              “I told you that you’d get the hang of it,” Chiaki said, leaning over me to see how I’d done.

              “Wait, it’s right?” I asked, hoping that he wasn’t teasing me.

              He nodded. “Yes, you’ve done well.”

              I grinned, happy to have his approval. The concierge lingered in the room, making me uncomfortable. “Should I go?” Why is she staring at me like that? Don’t tell me she’s already fallen for my brother. She’s only gotten up to this floor a week ago.

              Chiaki shrugged his shoulders. “I have some more work to do, but you can stay if you want to study here more.” Obviously, he wanted me to leave.

              I shut my book, stretching my arms above my head. “Nah, I’m kind of hungry anyways. I might go out to take my own break,” I said. A greasy burger and fries sounded really good right about now. Cooking had never been my strong suit so the kitchen in my own suite didn’t get much use except for reheating.  “Thanks for helping me. I might make it to graduation after all,” I joked.

              Chiaki rolled his eyes but smiled. “Don’t sell yourself short.” He didn’t elaborate. That was a first. Usually, they all joked along with me about my being hopeless in school.

              Changing into a blue summer dress, I took my time getting dressed to go out. It shouldn’t be this difficult to get ready to go out to a burger joint, but I had to fit the Kira image. Though, since I’m underage, the media had restrictions about following me around. I’d managed to stay out of the spotlight so far. Once presentable, I grabbed my purse, making sure my wallet was inside, and then headed for the elevator. The private elevator was nice.

              On the fourth floor, the elevator slid to a stop, opening its doors. “Kaede? Heading out?” Alan asked, stepping inside.

              My heart rate sped up at the sight of him. He was a family friend, Alan Mason. A gorgeous human being. Nodding, I replied, “Taking a break from studying to get some food.” My voice sounded a little robotic. Since I’d met him, I’d had crush on him.

              Alan smiled before saying. “Would you mind some company? I was just heading out to eat myself.”

              Autopilot took over and I agreed. Alan had never acted like he knew that I liked him. He treated me the same as always. Complimenting me about my appearance. Never making the fact that I was a Kira a big deal. My brothers all said he thought of me as a sister.

              We walked down the street to a restaurant that served my favorite burger. Things never changed between the two of us. He told me all about his business, and asked me about school. It felt natural, sitting in a booth laughing with this man. I could do it all the time…

              The moment dissolved when someone sat down beside me on the bench, picking up a fry off my plate. “Well, well, making a move on my little sister, Alan?” Minami asked, laughing like the idea was absurd. “She is underage, remember?”

              “Yes, I remember how old she is. We were just discussing her graduation,” Alan said. He blew off answering Minami’s question. It didn’t faze him. Of course, he doesn’t think of me like that. His charming smile warmed my heart.

              It didn’t stop my cheeks from burning from embarrassment. Minami was watching me out of the corner of his eye, a sly grin on his face. He’s such a child sometimes! “Why are you here?” I asked, angry at him now. He’s going to ruin this! He always takes things too far.

              “Don’t be so hostile, Kae-Kae! Can’t your big brother stay for dinner with his favorite little sister?” Minami faked being hurt by my comment. He turned his attention back on Alan. “I heard you’re going to be opening a new line, soon right?”

              Alan almost choked on his fry, but nodded. “Yes, but I think now is hardly the time to be discussing it.” It was no secret that he ran a lingerie line, but never had anyone brought it up so casually with me around.

              “Hey, Kaede here is almost eighteen. You could hire her on as a model next year,” Minami said, making sure to keep an eye on my reactions. He loved to make me embarrassed.

              Trapped in the booth, I dropped my gaze down to my food, completely mortified. Me? A lingerie model? My cheeks grew hot just thinking about being in my underwear in front of Alan. It was killing me to sit here and listen to Minami talk about it. “I should get back to studying. Finals are in a few weeks,” I said, pushing my barely eaten food away from me. “Move, Minami.”

              Let me out!

              “But I just got here,” he whined.

              I shoved him hard. “Move! I want out!” My voice rose louder than I had intended, drawing unwanted attention. The second he got up, I climbed out of the booth and headed for the door without another word. It took all my strength not to run out of the building.

              Once outside and around the corner, I sprinted back toward the hotel. By the time I reached the elevator, I was out of breath. The doors started to slide close, but were stopped by someone pressing the up button. Pulling my bangs down to cover my eyes as I adverted my gaze, I held my breath.

              “Reschedule that appointment. I have another shoot that day,” Shizuka said, hanging up the phone. He paused, staring right at me. “Something wrong, Kaede? You’re fidgeting over there in the corner.”

              “Just stressed about school. No big deal.” I replied softly.

              Shizuka pressed the button for our floor. “Oh really? So stressed that you’re crying?”

              The carpeted elevator had drops on the floor. Alarmed, I quickly wiped them away with the back of my hand. “Yep. Just stress.” I forced myself to smile at him. I can’t tell anyone about what happened. If they see I’m upset by it, they might figure out that I like Alan. It’s already horrible with Minami knowing. “I have to check on Rachmaninoff,” I blurted out as we both stepped off the elevator

              “Kae, Mei is already—” Shizuka started.

              Still having the spare key to Mei’s suite, I retreated inside. He’s been away on tour and I got to take care of his dog. She greeted me at the door, wagging her tail. “You’ll keep my secret, won’t you?” I asked, sitting on the floor by the couch to pet her. She laid her head in my lap.

              The familiar click of the door surprised me. Mei walked in, confused by my presence on his floor. Before he could question me, Minami’s voice came loudly from the hallway. “Mei-Mei! Have you seen Kaede anywhere? She isn’t in her room.”

              I shook my head with wide eyes, silently pleading: Please don’t tell him I’m here! The panic must have shown.

              “No, I haven’t seen her. I need to practice.” Mei shut the door before Minami could worm his way into the suite. Rachmaninoff trotted over to him, uninterested in me anymore. Mei scratched her head. “Why are you hiding from Minami?”

              “Because he’s an asshole,” I muttered, leaning back against the couch. Hugging my knees to my chest, I laid my forehead against them. “Can I hide out here for a while? I promise I’ll be quiet.” He’d just returned from tour, but there were events coming up that he’d want to practice for. Mei was amazing at playing the piano. I loved to listen to him play.

              Mei didn’t respond, simply walking over to the large piano and sitting down on the bench. After a few moments of silence, piano music filled the air. This wasn’t a piece that he would perform. It was too simple and sounded like a lullaby. He used to play it for me a lot when I was younger. It made me feel warm inside, and just for a moment, I forgot about all my problems. My eyes slid closed and I fell asleep to the soft music.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fun fact, Several Shades was the first otome that I wrote anything for!

[zebraslovescupcakestoo]

Golden eyes Chapter 18

“He's... he's dying. He's only got a few years left to live.” Mickey explained with sadness.

It was quiet in the room. Walt Disney is dying? I never heard of his health condition in bad condition.

“He have lung cancer. The doctors say he's lucky he's still got a few years left compared to others... But I'm worried...” Mickey said.

“Is that why you were needed today?” Oswald asked him.

He nodded. “But that's not the only reason. They also wanted me to become the next successor to the Disney company. But I don't like their idea!”

We were surprised yet confused. “You didn't want to become a cartoonist?” Oswald asked. “No. I do like drawing and wanted to become one, but that's not the problem!” He told him.

“You don't want to be the next successor then?” I asked him. “Not... exactly. I do, but I wanted to earn it with my own efforts. But that not it either!”

He turned his head a few times to look at us until he yelled in frustration. “AHHHHHHHH! Don't you get it?! They're giving me the whole heritage for when our father will pass away!”

“So?” Oswald asked. “You can direct the studio, products, and the amusement par-”

“That's NOT the REAL problem!” He cut off his brother. “I'm saying that there's no mentioning of YOU in it.” He pointed out.

They... never mentioned Oswald? The heck is this?!

“Why would that upset you?” He sounded like he was used to being forgotten.

“Why are you not upset?! You're the first one AND you have impressive talents too! You even knew the studio better than I can! It's not fair for you!” He tried to convince him.

“They probably think that you're more suited than I am. After all, you're better with people than I am.” He explained. I knew what he meant, but it makes his little brother even angrier.

“They just don't know you better! Besides, I don't care if I had to share the inheritance, you deserve it too!” He tried to convince him.

“I never said I wanted to BE the next in line! Have you ever thought of that?!” Aw snap! Now Oswald is getting mad!

“But there's still nothing for you if I agreed!” Mickey said back.

“I DON'T CARE! I'M USED TO IT!” Oswald yelled at him.

“IT'S STILL NOT RIGHT FOR YOU!” He yelled back.

I sensed this is gonna turn ugly if I don't do something. Then suddenly I yelled at them to stop, lunged forward, took them down with my elbows and we were on the floor. I don't know why I did that, but hey! At least they stopped fighting for a few seconds.

“Is this how you handle when your nephews started to fight each other?” Oswald asked me when he was calmed down. (and he's himself again.)

“Er... No. I actually separate them, but with our height and... you know.” I realized that I was on top of them... and I immediately got off of them. They both sat up and looked away from each other, feeling a bit guilty. Mickey then confessed. “I'm sorry, Oswald. I should have thought about what you really wanted.”

“I'm sorry too. I know you'd do that for me, but I guess I was... stubborn. I'm used to being in the shadows so much that I started to 'adapt' to my second best.” Oswald said while scratching his back head.

“I just wanted you to have the best too! I hate it when they keep forgetting you when it's CLEARLY obvious you're my big brother.”

“Half-brother.” He pinched his little brothers cheeks and spread them a bit. “REAL brother to me!” Mickey then did the same with him. They struggled a bit and Oswald then lock his head and gave him a noogie. “GAH! NOT THE NOOGIE, OSWALD!” He struggles from his grasp until Oswald lets go and he fell back. His older brother laughs as he puffed his cheeks and fixed his hair.

“You really should work on your character.” Mickey told him.

“When people ‘actually’ started to notice me, I will. Now what else is new in our crew?” He fires back at him.

“Well, since you asked so 'politely,' we haven't heard or see anything unusual. I don't know if Bendy DID received that 'special' order. Maybe we foiled his drug renewal plan?” Mickey's got a point. When we switched those necklaces back at that King Dice Casino, the manager must have noticed they were fakes and thus Bendy wouldn't have that 'special' machine from them.

Yet I still have that gut feeling it's not over yet.

“I doubt Bendy will give up that easily. We both knew him well enough that he can play dirty sometimes.” Oswald just had the same idea as mine.

“But we're talking about the King Dice staff and those two assassin magicians! I doubt Bendy can manage those guys even WITH all of his men and Boris at his side.” Mickey explained the exact same thing from what Sam told me.

“Don't forget. He can also 'hire' some professional thieves with the right price. I knew he has a few at his disposal.” Oswald was then explaining HIS reasons to believed why it's not over.

“So what's the plan now? Is there something I can do?”  I was hoping to be any use in this final step to this webbed case.

“Nah. You've done your part. This is personally between us and Bendy.” Oswald 'shooed' me with his hands.

“Excuse me?!” What does that mean? “I want to stop his drug renewal too! Mickey! You were there with me when he was talking about it at the House of Mouse, remember?”

“I know... But... this is something more personal.” He told me with his eyes looking away.

I can't believed what I'm hearing. I helped them with the necklaces and the animals, but they wouldn't let me do the drug bust, which let me remind you that THIS was my biggest problem right now!

“Why can't I? I don't want Bendy's drugs landed on the streets again too! I don't care for the fame of busting it, I'm doing this for the public safety!”

“It's not the drugs we're concerned about, māo.” He then spatted at me.

“Than what did Bendy do to you?” I got up. “Did he did something that got on your bad side? Did he black mailed you or your friends and family? Was it about that heist that happened many years ago?”

He then got angry, got up, grabbed my collar and glared straight in my eyes. Mickey quickly got up and tried to break us up.

“Why the heck would it matter to you? You did your job and we're very 'thankful' for your help. Now you can leave the rest to us. Now drop it!”

“Oswald! Felix! Enough! This is not the time to be fighting each other!” Mickey pleaded and tried to yank his brother's grip on me.

“I'm not 'dropping' it! Not until 'WE' destroy that new drug trafficking!” I'm not getting off this case without a fight.

“Why are you so fixated on drugs? Did you needed that stuff or something?” He then said those fighting words.

I snapped and I sucker punched him across the face really quick. It surprised both of them as Oswald let go of my shirt and staggered a bit. His nose started to bleed a bit. I then feel horrible of what I just did. I immediately took out a napkin and handed to him. “I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't snapped like that. Do you need medical or something?”

He snatched it and whipped his bloody nose. “I never heard of anyone dying from a minor nose bleed. But I must admit, that was a pretty good punch. You could have done well in our practice.”

“I didn't mean to punch you like that! I just... I don't use drugs.” I told him off.

“Then how can you explained some of the marijuana leaves that was stuck on your jacket from that night you went berserk?”

“I was hidden in that delivery truck that Bendy's men have loaded most of those marijuana and they even took that poisonous flower, the oleander, to their new hiding place somewhere at the docks. I understand that you guys wanted to strike only once because of Bendy's 'secrecy' policy.”  I knew it had to be at one of the docks, but the big question is which one we can raid without setting off an intruder alert to the mafia?

“ Hēi māo, you still haven't explained why are you so fixated on the drugs. What's your angle?” Oswald asked again with his poker expression with a raised eyebrow.

I did attack him out of anger... so I told him why I wanted to stop it. “...Meera Kat.”

“Huh? Meera Kat? Who's she?” Mickey asked.

“She used to be an honorary student and class president of the first years in her high school. Good grades, great athlete and she had a scholarship for a top collage when she graduated... at least she was.” I was serious.

“What happened to her?” Mickey sounded worried.

“Bendy Drew happened. He gave her those 'leaves' as a 'sample.' She then was addicted to it. Her grades, her performance, and her upheld 'image' started to drop. She even depleted all of her college savings for those things. Until one day, she was collapsed at school and rushed to the emergency room. She was unconscious and the doctors reported that she got 'stoned' or something. Whatever that means.” I scratched my head out of thinking what words they meant, but I knew what they were talking about.

Mickey gasped. “How horrible!”

“That's hardly compared after she woke up. She then got expelled, lost her college benefit, and just to make it worse, her own parents disowned her... leaving her homeless.”

“Disowned...” Mickey's face expression says that he remembered that feeling. Oswald put a hand on his shoulder. “She's not going to harm you anymore, remember?” Mickey looked at his brother and was relieved with a small smile. He nodded. “You're right. I'm sorry, Felix. Please continue.” He asked. I wondered who was that person they’ve mentioned, but I think I'll ask him for another time.

“As I was saying, she was ruined. Everyone that knew her have 'left' and she was all alone. She was only fifteen. But luckily, it didn't ended there.” I smiled a bit.

“Sam was able to helped her. He started to help by being one of those people who lend a shoulder to cry on, despite his realistic personalty. It started to pay off after a few days of visits when she finally admits why she did took them. She was under pressure from her prideful parents, teachers and peers for her grades and expectations. She was on her breaking point until 'he' offered those drugs as a 'stress relief' for her at a price.”

“Poor Meera Kat. Being under peer pressure was bad enough... but that fear of disappointments, I can relate to that.” Mickey then frowned again and looked down. “My mom... was always expected highly of my performances... If I made a little mistake, she'd make me practice even longer and harder. I almost hated tap dancing if it wasn't for our escape and our freedom with the Red Dragons.”

His mother was abusive to MICKEY too? “Then what happened to her? Did her parents forgave her?” He questioned.

“Not exactly. They were too 'haughty' to take her back. Sam have managed to contact one of her relatives and her aunt have decided to take her in so she can start a new life. After she was 'cleaned,' and was determined to set on the right track again, she now lives with a happier lifestyle at her aunt's ranch in Texas. Last time we heard from her, she send a thank you letter for giving her a second chance and decided to raise horses after her aunt.” I was glad when she did.

“Not that I don't understand or enjoy happy endings, but what does she have to do with this?” Oswald questioned.

“She was a victim of drug usage. Peer pressure is one thing, but Bendy have took her in her most vulnerable state in his advantage and takes all of her savings just to make a few bucks and in Meera's case, she's was only fifteen. That's only seven years older than my nephews. Can't you imagine if it happens to them? What would that affect to the other kids? They don't only follow the adults examples, you know. I wanted to stop any possible drug trafficking so none of them will have to go through the same horrible experience like she did. I doubt that they'll be as lucky as her... or worse.” No kid should have to go thought like she did...

“So that's your reason for wanting to stop this drug trafficking?” Oswald questioned again.

“Yes, for the safety of my city and for kids like her and mines.” Now please let me join again for one more time on this.

They were quiet for a minute until I got my answer from Oswald. “Only if you follow our orders. Bendy knows your movements just as well as ours. However, we do have 'friends' in low places that can help us track their 'shipments.' Mean while, we should just continue our routine 'day' jobs and make it look like we're busy with something else. His 'employes' will eventually slip if it goes smoothly.”

“In other words, once they've slipped, we can get a chance to find their drug factory hide out!” Mickey simplified.

“But just to make sure it won't fall in their hands, I'll be keeping a close eye on the kids. Mostly teenagers. I may not be perfect in my supervision, but at least I can-”

“I understand why you wanted to do that, but it will only shift the problem if he founds out when you 'know' of his plan.” Mickey explained to me.

“You expected me to just let him sell it? I mean, sure it's one tactic but-” *WHACK!* I was greeted with Oswald's karate chop to the top of my head. REALLY hard! I fell backwards and I held my head in pain. “OW! I needed my head too, ya know?!” I glanced at him with one eye opened.

“That's for forgetting what I've just told you not a minute ago. We have 'friends' in low places here. Did you know that stunt men aren't just for the movie sets?” He said.

“What are they gonna do? Fake a car chase or leap from roof tops?” I know that it's a risky position, but I'm still a bit clueless on what he meant.

“What Oswald's trying to say is that our 'members' will act like any other 'customers' or 'dealers' and buys their stuff before they'll ended up in the streets or in the hands on those kids. So there's no need to worry.” Mickey helped me up as he cleared up on that part.  

“I started to feel like you're two and the others are doing all of the work. Not to mention I feel almost completely useless in this crazy case.”

Mickey was surprised while Oswald 'tsked.'

“What do you mean, 'completely useless.' You did a very good job doing your end. You manage to track down a good hiding spot of their drug factory, even if we still don't have a clue which one it is yet.” Mickey tried to cheer me up.

“Did you forget you've played a big part of finding the real necklaces at the King Dice Casino. You even manage to find the mocking sapphire necklace. Some were from Ortensia's jewelries that I got her from our first date... it really means a lot to her.” Oswald calmly said.

“Nooooot to mention that you did pretty well on your investigations with the murdered Mr. Blancheure, your second trip to Mr. Vermelho's rental estate, and you also handled very well with my brother whenever you crossed path with him.” Mickey added.

... Only two of that was ri- Hey, wait just one, cotton, picking, tail a minute! “Mickey, how did you know I've investigated the second time at the rental estate?”

“Two things.” I turned at Oswald with his 'peace' sign. “One: Those marijuana leaves can only belong to Mr. Vermelho in this city. Two: I can hear you shuffling from the elephant bush and you didn't hide well from 'me.'” He then gently taped twice with his index finger next to his head, smirking. Translating to 'I can see and hear more than you think I can.'

Carp fish... I forgot he's got super hearing powers... Not to mention I now know he's got  an eye for details! Yay! Detect my hidden breakfast stains and tell me what I ate while you're at it?

Speaking of lunch. “What time is it? I've lost track of it.”

Mickey looked at his watch. “It's a quarter past twelve. How about we all agreed on the case to just wait for a new lead and settle for that Mexican restaurant I've tried the other day? It's been a while since I had some spicy food.”

“That's because you were crying for water after you had just one bite.” Oswald told him.

“How am I supposed to know it was going to be THAT spicy?! Besides, I heard there's a 'mild' menu for those who couldn't handle it. So how about it?”

I did sort of forgot that today I've decided to eat out for lunch and that Mexican food sounded a good idea to try something new.

---- One time skipping lunch break later -------

Never again I'm going out eating with them.

Here's a 'funny' story that happened. When we arrived at that Mexican restaurant called the Mexicali, it was a very beautiful restaurant from the decor. The food and service was excellent. Our talk over our 'break' was pretty simple and we all agreed on. We just have to wait for Bendy to make a move first and then hit his secret drug factory. This time, they've included me in the search, but only for a look out. I don't blame them since the Alfonso mafia 'KNOWS' me quite well apart from a few tricks up my sleeves.

It was all going well until I got tricked to eat an extremely spicy sauce that Oswald secretly put a little bit on my taco salad while I was distracted by my conversation with his brother. I was lucky nobody was in the restroom at the time cause I bolted through the dinning area like a cheetah on a hunt pursuit!

Mickey made him apologized, but he wasn't feeling guilty. They payed for my meal to make up for it... I can still feel the burning sensation in my taste buds...

I was then dropped off in front of the station, not before they had to put their disguises on due to their... 'status.'

“If there's anything happens, you know where to find me chat noir.” Oswald said. Actually... “Where would that be?” I asked.

“Just go to the bazaar and asked anyone about a police officer. They'll do the rest.”

“Fine.” I got out of the car and they left.

Once I got back to my office, I glance at the calendar and I noticed that today was the day I was supposed to take my nephews to the zoo for a art project at school. They were supposed to draw their favorite animal and they wanted to see them. I gasped a bit.

What kind of an idiot I am for almost forgetting that! I know It's my responsibility to take care of them, but I'm not one of those 'tough' adults that only cared solely for his job. I wanted to be there for them too. When I was at their age, I hardly spend time with him apart when he's exhausted from work despite he's half machine... I was sometimes frustrated when he does, but I knew better than throwing a tantrum over that.

Sure I may not be perfect, but at least I'm doing the best I can to raise them to have a good characters. The only problem I have is my evil twin cousin, Alex Derussée. He's my biggest rival next to Bendy not in a mafia conflict, but trying to steal my girl. He's a thief and a dishonest dirty rat! One time I was at work, he's trying to give me a hard time by teaching the nephews stealing is alright and I had to deal with the aftermath and had to 'reeducate' why it's NOT alright to steal. No wonder my father didn't want them to be with one his relative when.... Never mind.

My head and my right foot was alright since before noon. My taste buds are still burning but I can always bring a water bottle. I wanted to be there for them even if I had to work harder and gave them good childhood memories.

--- Three hours later ----

“Tiger!” “Lion!” Tiger!” “Lion!” They both argued. Inky wanted to draw a tiger and Winky wanted to draw the lion. I guess not ALL twins think alike. “Settle down, both of you. We can do both. We'll go see the Tiger first since it's the closest, and then we can all see the lion after. Sounds good?”

“But Inky's gonna take forever to do the tiger, I know he will.” Winky said and pointed him. “Nuh-uh! I'm drawing fast, you're the one who's slow!” Inky spatted. “Am not!” “Are too!” They argued again. I sighed. “Enough. How about each can have a limit of fifteen minutes to draw. If one of you didn't finish on time, you can finish it at home and we can see the rest of the animals after, sounds good?”

They looked at me and then at each other. Then back at me. “Okay...” They said together. Whew! Hard to get them along sometimes when you need to make some boundaries. We then made it to the tiger pit and Inky was exited. He took his sketch book and the crayons and started right away with his drawings. Winky just watched the tigers while he's doing so. I sat on the bench and watched over. I can't believed they're eight now... it's been what? Four years since dad has been killed and two since the day I finally took custody of them. I remembered they were crying just as much as I did, even if I had to held back my tears a little. They told me at the time I was too young and didn't had enough to support them, so according to my father's will, they were send to our uncle in Scotland who's a detective in his own rights, Purlock Jones. We was supposed to enjoy his retirement until my father's death and he decided to take care of them. But I decided to be the one taking care of them, plus, he's done enough for us and at his age and theirs, it's hard to keep up.

I've went to the police academy right after graduation and I did my best to pass the courses despite they've told me I couldn’t do it because of my size. And now look at me, I've proven them wrong, I got my nephews back once I've earned enough for a living, (of course I've convinced my uncle to let me care for them.) and I'm one of the top detective in this city.

But I did admit it wasn't easy. Apart from life, I used to have problems with my 'sight' that I've covered already to anyone who has followed my past stories... But now that I have my mother's ring, I can now control it and I can focus better on my cases without their interruptions. But I might... 'ask' it if I'm REALLY stuck, or... I remembered that a few night ago that I had that 'dream' of meeting Bastet the second time. It was about my mom and that new 'technique' she taught me that I haven't used yet. She didn't appeared again either... Was is really all a dream or am I supposed to... 'use' the technique before I can 'see' her again?

With so many questions I wanted to ask her, I need to remember I have parental responsi-

I then had my eyes covered from someone from behind and there was a imitation voice. “Guess who?”

Huh? That voice sounded a bit familiar, even of it was a tone down. “... Sheba?”

“Did I made you worry for a second there?” She then lets go and I turned to her.

It really WAS Sheba Beboporeba, my friend in the police academy. She was my second friend and classmate who understood me. She's one of those tomboy girls that has a bit of an attitude but with a heart of gold. She doesn't like dresses and she's really a terrific undercover cop. I felt like it was ages that I last saw her.

“Sheba! I didn't know you were back in town! How was your visit to your grandmother? Is she doing well now?”

“Nah! Don't worry about her, she's doing great. New York was hardly any different from here. I just returned yesterday and I've visited at the station today but you weren't there. Kitty told and fill me in on what's been happening lately. You lucky black cat! Solving a big case of the missing necklaces for the famous Disney's heir, Mickey Walt Disney and his rabbit brother Oswald.” She then head locked me and gave a noogie just to tease.

Winky looked back to see who was giggling, the he was smiling and shouted. “Miss Sheba!” Inky then looked back and he puts down his drawing. “Sheba! You're back!” They ran to greet her with a hug. “Hey you two! Did you both behave while I was gone?”

“We did our best!” They said honesty... I'll let it slide a bit this time. My cousin wasn't around lately, which is a very good news to me.

“What are you all doing here? And what's with that drawing you were doing?” She asked them. Inky quickly got the sketch book and showed her the tiger drawing he's been doing.

“We're making an art project and we're supposed to draw our favorite animals. I did this! Mrarg!” He imitated the tiger and held it in front of his face. “I'm waiting for the lion, so I can draw it much cooler after he's finished.”

“Seems he just did. Wanna go there now?” She asked. I got up until I feel sore and yelped. “Ow!” I rubbed my shoulders. It must have been from that trow down he did...

“Uncle Felix, are you alright?” Inky worried. “Did you hurt yourself again?” Winky followed.

“No no! I just... had a few lessons with a new 'friend' of mine I've met a few days ago. I've been had with his surprise attack.” I explained them with the truth, but not to mention any details because it was Oswald and their favorite actor, Mickey.

“Oh really? I thought you might be getting old.” Sheba laughed and slapped on the other side of my shoulder, RIGHT where the pain was. I hold my screams with all my might and then I fell down on one of my knees after. “Uncle! Are you alright?”

“You don't look too good.” They said. I forced a smile. “Don't worry, I'm just a little tired from this morning. Now let's-” I got up and I staggered a bit. “You need a break, pops. Before you'll need a walking stick wherever you go.” Sheba teased but was serious and got me back to the bench. I'm not 'old,' I'm twenty one!

“I can take them to the lion's den. You take it easy for a few minutes and we'll be right back.” She said. “Alright, but be careful and you two behave for Sheba, she might be tired too from her flight.” I admit defeat and told them.

“Don't cha worry about me for now, relax and enjoy some time alone.” She told me and then takes them to the lion's den far from here.

I was then all alone with nobody else around. I took the opportunity to take off my glove with the Black ring of Bastet to see how it's been doing. It looks good so far, then I put it back on before anyone noticed.

I remembered when I've read about it and that they told me, there was supposed to be two sets of rings. They both had the same purpose, so I think it's probably when there's TWO people with the same 'sight.' or maybe... if I have a kid in the future... he or she might have the same eyes... but only IF I have a kid on my own! That's WAY later in life! I still have time! Just have to keep your focus on what matters most!

I have a goal to bring down the infamous Alfonso Mafia along with his successor, Bendy Drew, which he 'changed' his last name to De Mon since I was told he hated to be called by his real last name.

But I wasn't too stupid to devote ALL of my time just for that! I have friends and family I needed to spend time with. Kitty, Sheba, Inky, Winky, Sam, Woody... Even the new ones I've made during these past few days.

I sighed. Maybe I'm thinking way too hard on this... I think I might need to take a few easy jobs after this so I can just 'relax' a bit.

Then again... While they are at the lion's den, I might try and work on my 'sight' technique. Oswald DID say it grows stronger if I use it often. Of course he was a bit pissed when I said I haven't use it since the casino heist.

It sort of worked on some cats apparently from when I was looking through the Chinese circus the second time with that Mufasa lion. I wondered... I got up carefully and walked to the tiger pit to see the 'mighty' tiger drinking the water fountain.

So how am I supposed to do this again? It did it before on it's own... maybe if I close my eyes and concentrate to think alike or...

I then suddenly felt a jolt and a painful flash passed through me. I held on the bar before I fell aside. “Ow! That hurt!” I whispered.

'That's what you get for using your 'talents' beyond your limit, lost child of Bastet.' A male's voice rang in my head. I looked around and there was nobody there. 'Down here, kid. The same old man you were trying to communicate.' Huh? I looked at the tiger pit again to see who it was. 'He' was the one who was talking to me and was close enough to communicate, eye to eye.

'Took you long enough to 'woke' up that 'talent' of yours, but I guess your blood line was a little different and there was some circumstances from the rumors about your life.' He 'growled.'

Is he... communicating with me?! Did I just do something right on my first try? “H-how? I-Ow!” I felt a sharp pain in my left forehead. 'I told you. This is what you get for going beyond your limits. From where you are now, we had to keep this 'conversation' short as we can. Are you too curious about your 'talent?'

I looked around again in case of someone is near by. I whispered. “I... I barely knew anything about it until recently. I just wanted to know how to use it... I guess there's more to this mystery than it seems.”

'Then take this advice: Don't do anything that's beyond your limit. If you do without Bastet's blessings, you'll get more than just a head ache you just got. Besides, what else did you wanted from an old man like me?' He 'asked.'

“I... wanted to use my 'sight' so that I can use it in my advantage against the people who are responsible of my father's death and to help my family, and my friends too.”

'Oh ho! How heroic, lost child. But tell me, what about your mother? She was murdered too. Are you going to avenge her as well?'  He grinned and it showed his sharp teeth.

I really didn't thought about it. It wasn't like a 'revenge' killing thing, I just wanted to bring justice for my father and anyone else who fell victim. But I haven't... thought about my mother.

I suddenly feel weak as I desperately held on to the safety bar. 'Time's almost up, lost child. We can talk about this once Bastet gives you the blessing to communicate. Think about what we just said.' He turned around and then I feel like another jolt rushed through me. I don't hear him 'talking' anymore... Dang! I took too long to answer that I haven't ask how he knows me and my parents... or Bastet even!

He said that I needed her 'blessing' so that I can communicate without whatever that painfully ran through me... I guess I needed to train my 'sight' a little more... starting with that 'Heat eye' ability it's called. I wondered if I'm supposed to use it before I can get her 'blessing' or whatever. Apart from a slight head ache, I suddenly feel a bit better. I think I might need to sit down a few more minutes before they come back.

I then noticed two people that are walking by. I decided to play it cool and just returned to the bench to make it looked like I was just taking a break.

One was a very tall and buffed man with a beard and a twin ponytail tied behind his back. He had a blue jacket and a black shirt that says 'daddy' with a pair of light bluejeans, and black shoes. Is that Boris Wolfenstein?

I was surprised when he was with a girl that looked like she was in her early teens with long blond hair, black eyes, had a bit of an old fashioned pastel colors of blue, pink and white all over, a knee high white socks with blue heeled buckled shoes.

She looked prett- wait a minute... is that Bendy? What the heck is he doing cross dressing like that?! I looked away just to make sure that I haven't noticed them. Dang it! Out of all days we could have crossed paths, it HAD to be today!

“Is it going so great this week? I've finally have what I wanted after much 'hard' work. Look at my purse!” He imitated a highly pitched girlish voice. I was so distracted about his 'accessories' that he actually wore one... it looked like a pink pastel, heart shaped coin purse. It looked stuffed... is it full of cash? Who did he sell to? Where?

“Don't show it off, sweetie. There might be 'bad' people who might try to steel it.” Boris told him while he put his left hand on his side.

“Oh, I'm not worried about the 'bad' guys, daddy. I'm actually more worried about the 'safety' locks. Who knows what could have happened here. Can we go and get some cake now? I want Ring Dings.” He 'childishly' tone it as they left.

He's got that 'special' machine and he's distributing! He even go all the way to dress like THAT to sell some-

Wait... did he also mentioned about the safety locks? As in, the locks for the animals cages? My eyes were widen in horror.

Sheba and my nephews! They're in danger!

TO BE CONTINUED... Chapter 19.

Read Chapter 17 here.

Read the Beginning here: Chapter 1

So apparently, the brother’s father is dying of lung cancer like the real one. I also added a good reason WHY Felix wanted to put an end for those drugs.

I also wanted to show that he’s also a family guy’s type. He cares for his nephews and he wanted to raise them like his father would have, but Alex is NOT helping... AT ALL! #BoycottAlexthecat

I also added Sheba in this chapter after she was introduced a few months ago and I’m STILL trying to be close to the CANON story as possible.

Also a couple of notes here: I’m almost DONE typing the chapters so I’m going to release both on MONDAY and FRIDAY once I’m finished.

the second is that I’m gonna try to make three NEW characters I’ve mentioned aside Sam Toucan. The first two is already mentioned so far and the third will be in MUCH later chapters. They’ll be drawn soon...

And to close off this week’s chapter: What will happened to Felix’s friend and his nephews when he thinks that the locks are loose?

Read in next week to find out!

BBTIM Characters belong to Marini4. Some OC’s belong to me and Disney’s.

[cosmosogler]

i got some bad news today.

so you know how back in august i was taking my preliminary exam and i passed out? i thought i remembered the score i got on it, and it was super low. like embarrassingly low, and that’s why the graduate coordinator put me in undergrad courses.

this january i took the test again (i was super sick, i was so sick, god) but i got my scores back pretty quick and was pleased to discover that i had tripled my score. despite everything i was improving! maybe i could improve some more!

well... i got my scores sent to me again since i was applying for summer funding and i asked the grader to send them over. my score in january was actually lower than my score last august had been... i had misremembered my august score. 

so... i’ve actually been doing the opposite of improving this whole time. the whole basis of my scale of improvement was wrong. i’m even doing worse than when i had come in fresh off the gallbladder removal surgery. 

i hate this. i hate feeling like this. i hate feeling so worthless. i feel worthless all the time but bringing it up to the front of my mind and having it stick there is awful. 

i hate that i got a thinly veiled threat from the graduate coordinator before the january test that if i didn’t drastically improve my score there would be “trouble.” i hate that it was an empty threat considering my score went down. i hate that he’s lying to me and making everything seem like life and death. i don’t know when the warning will be for real.

i applied for the funding before i had gotten that score comparison back (i found my january scores and sent those) so i didn’t have that crushing realization until i’d already sent everything in. so at least i wasn’t able to talk myself out of applying. guess my application will get laughed at after all.

i want to die. i hate feeling like i can’t do this. i hate throwing myself at a concrete wall over and over and never making any progress except getting my hands and knees more and more shredded. 

i was wrong. i haven’t improved at all! i thought i was doing way better than i was actually doing, AND I ALREADY THOUGHT I WAS DOING TERRIBLY! GOOD TO KNOW I WAS *STILL* OVERESTIMATING MY ABILITIES EVEN AFTER SETTING THE BAR AS LOW AS POSSIBLE!

i don’t know what to do. keep going, naturally, of course, but i don’t know why. why even bother. i feel like a smelly puddle of stagnant water. worthless. 

i know i’m depressed. i know i was really for real super sick BOTH times i have tried to take my preliminary exam so far. but that won’t give me more chances to take the test. that won’t help me pass my classes with an acceptable gpa.

it doesn’t matter why i failed. all that matters is that i keep failing without even improving even a little bit. that’s all the guys in charge care about. it doesn’t matter that i have a handicap. at the end of the day i get less done than my classmates and that’s all they can see. 

i can’t even tell them how severe the handicap is because i don’t know at all. it looks like it’s pretty severe? but i feel like if i’m putting in all this effort i should be getting somewhere. i can’t even put in the effort... my classmates get the homework done and have time to study before the exams. i’m still struggling to finish assignments for the first time the day before our midterms and finals.

why am i like this? i feel like there’s something i’m missing, some easy fix that will make everything resolve itself if i was just smart enough to see what the solution was. but i’m not smart. i’m stupid. and stubborn and delusional i guess. 

i just... i guess i want to confirm that i’m stupid and i shouldn’t be here. but i can’t because the depression is in the way. so i can’t tell if i’m REALLY THAT DEPRESSED or if i just don’t belong. i don’t want to do anything else... i love physics. i wish i was better at it. i wish i was naturally good at it. i wish i could see the easy fix that would make everything click and i’d understand the subject just fine after that. the way harrison did it. i wish i could make it look effortless. the way luis does it. 

i feel like i understand it when i talk about it but then i need to write it down (or demonstrate to a professor, on the spot, when they ask me what i would have done if i wasn’t stressed about the test) and it’s gone. 

i don’t want depression to be the reason i can’t stay here. i don’t want to go home. i’ll die. mom or dad will do it if they’re ever in a bad enough mood. or i’ll do it. or my brother will do it if he finds out how gay i am. the reason doesn’t matter. at the end of the day i’ll be dead. it doesn’t matter why.

it’s funny... i get the worst grades in my favorite subjects. or the ones most important to me. since middle school. math and english were so, so hard for me to get good grades in. physics is impossible for me to get good grades in. 

but the stories i write, people like those. don’t they? they like the characters. 

character analysis was what i was worst at in english, in high school. character analysis essays tanked my grade all the way through undergrad. 

what was i missing? maybe i just think in a different way and that made my grades bad. how can i shift my thinking gears over to what would get better grades...? how do i articulate my understanding, and where it came from, in a way other people find acceptable? 

in english, it’s like, so much is up to interpretation. and the way i process stories is probably different, i focus on different things, i see the evidence and draw different conclusions than other people... i don’t know... in class discussions i felt more like i rocked at it. griffy praised me one time when i pointed out a word in the text that my classmates didn’t notice. 

“seemed.” the character described himself as “seeming” to be friendly and polite or whatever. it was “a hero of our time.” i hated the character but man it was a fantastic character study.

so like... i can do it, when i’m not thinking about it, i guess. how do i stop thinking about it? i don’t think i can do physics problems without thinking about them very, very hard. i just have to memorize the basic equations. the ones you can derive everything else from, if you understand what they mean. but i can’t seem to do that.

i can memorize all the dang pokemon and the moves they’re most likely to have when you battle another person but i can’t remember that the surface bound charge is literally just the magnitude of the polarization along the normal vector. it’s as simple as F = ma. it’s literally that simple.

and i can’t remember it! not when it matters.

but really, to the people in charge of my future, it doesn’t matter that i think differently. it matters that i can’t speak their language. it doesn’t matter why. it only matters that i can’t do it. thinking in colors and letters just isn’t making the transition to numbers on the page. the right numbers. my professor, last time i talked to her, said i got bogged down in the math that didn’t matter to the problem. 

i got confused and trying to solve the problem the long way didn’t matter. i didn’t even realize i was confused. i mean, i knew i’d done something wrong somewhere, because my integral was too hard, but i couldn’t figure out why. so it didn’t matter. my grade tanked. that’s what matters.

i hate bashing my head against this wall over and over and i hate making people watch me bash my stupid stubborn head against the stupid wall and never make any progress. it must be so frustrating for them. why don’t i just do something different?

i do try so many different things... but i can’t seem to find the right different thing.

but i can’t give up. i want to, but i can’t. i don’t have it in me to give up i guess. maybe if i did something different i could give up. but, you know, i can’t seem to find that missing solution either. i’m just stuck failing over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over

[leisurelypanda]

Halloween was tomorrow. Oddly enough, Thor didn’t seem to be celebrating. Or rather, he did seem to be celebrating, just not dressing up as anything or doing anything associated with Halloween. Loki, meanwhile, was beside himself with excitement, which was almost as frightening as the look on his face when he was about to prank someone. Steve wasn’t a huge fan of Halloween himself, either. Too many drunks wandering around the Village for the Halloween Parade. Not that he disliked it, it was fine. He just didn’t understand the appeal.

Halloween fell on a Saturday, this year, which meant that all the shenanigans that happened would be even worse this year because none of the high school hellions had to worry about showing up to school in the morning. However, while the rest of the school seemed to be already high on sugar or whatever else in the way of recreational drugs was floating around the school system, Steve and his group of friends seemed to be indifferent to it all. Except Tony, who might actually be taking some of those recreational drugs.

Steve was working on the drawing he had started of Thor sitting on the stool in his backyard nearly two weeks ago. Or trying to, anyway. He was exhausted. His anxiety had been giving him a hard time lately. He had only gotten a couple hours of sleep the last few nights and it took nearly all his energy to get out of bed this morning. Add to that the constant mental and emotional drain that anxiety had on him, and it was a wonder he had shown up to school at all. He was seriously considering calling his mom to come pick him up.

The picture was almost done, but done enough that he was willing to let Thor look at it. He wanted to finish the little details before he showed Frigga. As supportive as Thor was, his knowledge of the arts was limited. Right now, though, he couldn’t really bring himself to do anything but stare blankly at the picture, completely at a loss for how to finish it.

“Do you have plans for Halloween?” Thor asked.

“Not yet,” Steve replied. “Why?”

“My family is having a bonfire tomorrow night,” he elaborated. “It is not your typical Halloween festivity but it is something we look forward to every year. Do you want to come?”

“You’re inviting him to Samhain?” Loki asked incredulously. “Does he even know what that means?”

“What’s Samhain?” Steve and Tony asked.

“Samhain is basically the pagan new year,” Thor said. “There is frequently a bonfire, people honor the memories of the ancestors, and ask the gods for blessings and guidance for the new year.”

“You’re pagans?” Tony asked.

“We are, indeed!” Thor said with pride. “Though personally, I prefer Yule.”

“Brother, you’re just looking forward to getting drunk this year with mother and father,” Loki said, rolling his eyes.

“And you, dear brother, are just jealous because you’re still not of age,” Thor countered with a grin.

“Will there be drinking at this Samhain celebration?” Tony asked.

“If you are of age,” Thor said. “And of the 4 of us here, Steve and I are the only ones.”

“And I don’t drink,” Steve said.

“Why not?!” Tony demanded.

“I just don’t,” Steve replied.

“Who hurt you?!” Tony cried.

Steve paused in his drawing and didn’t look up. Then he decided that he really didn’t feel like having this conversation with Tony and packed his bag and got up.

“Good job, you ass,” Thor muttered before he got up as well to follow Steve.

“What’d I say?” Tony demanded.

Steve hurried away. He needed to be away from Tony at the moment. His anxiety was starting to act up. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he really didn’t fit in with this weird group of people at all. He wasn’t dramatic or outgoing or boisterous or clever or witty or even that attractive. He was just Steve and they were probably all putting up with him, waiting for him to leave. Thor said he cared about him, but that was probably just--

“Steve, wait up,” Thor said. He paused. The thoughts raged on inside his skull, driving doubt into his life. The part of him that knew that it was irrational wasn’t working today. His brain was running full throttle today. “Are you well?”

“I’m fine,” he lied. He was trying very hard not to crawl into a corner and hide to wait for the panic attack he was absolutely certain was coming. And God, he didn’t have the energy to deal with a panic attack today. He barely had the energy to function like a person.

“You are fine?” Thor asked. “Pardon me for saying so, but you seem a little on edge.”

Steve looked away. Looked anywhere but at Thor. The floor, the ceiling, the lockers, the people around him. He wanted it all to stop for a moment so he could scream until his voice was hoarse. Most of all, he didn’t say anything.

“Steve,” Thor whispered, leaning down to look him in the eye. “Steve, it is okay, talk to me.”

Fuck that. Talk, he thought. That’s the last thing you want to do. You’ll say something stupid and make everything fall apart.

“Please, älskling,” Thor begged. “Tell me what to do to help you.”

Against his better judgment, Steve felt his tongue loosen.

“I’m having a bad day, Thor,” he said, slowly, deliberately.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m struggling with my anxiety, today,” he snapped. Then he kicked himself for it. It wasn’t Thor’s fault, he was just trying to be a good boyfriend. “I’m sorry. I feel like I’m about to explode. It’s not your fault.”

“Is there a way I can help?” Thor asked.

“I need some time to myself to get this out of my system,” he said. “So, I will try to be at your… Samhain tomorrow, but I don’t know.”

“It’s all right, Steve,” Thor said. “You do what you need to do.”

Steve, in spite of himself, hugged his boyfriend. Every one of his brain cells were screaming at him, but he did it anyway. Thor’s hug, usually gentle and firm, was fierce and strong and protective. It did nothing to soothe his mind but physically, it felt good.

“I need to make a call,” he said.

“All right,” Thor whispered. “I wish you well, älskling."

“Thanks, you too.”

Thor walked away. Steve headed towards a secluded part of the school and took out his phone to call his mom. It rang twice before she picked up.

“Steve?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

He swallowed. “I’m out of spoons,” he said.

“All right, I’m on my way,” she said. “I’ll call the school and tell them that I’m picking you up to go to the doctor. See you soon.”

“Thanks, mom,” he said. “See you soon.”

She arrived shortly after the bell rang for class to start. As soon as they got home he collapsed on the couch and turned on a white noise app of various nature sounds. It was the only time he found such sounds soothing. Usually he opted for sounds of the hustle and bustle of city life. But right now, when his brain was on full alert, anything that sounded like people was stressful and unwelcome. With the nature sounds, he could pretend that he was far away from everyone.

He remembered what Thor told him about Sweden. About the forests, the snows in the winter, about the cities and what it was like to see the Northern Lights on a clear winter’s night. He thought of reindeer and snow and the smells of pine and ice and smoke. It was a dream, to think that Thor would ever actually take him there to see his country, the country he loved so much. But in the wake of his mind screaming fear and impending doom and over analyzing every little thing, it was a good dream. -------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thor did not hear from Steve for the rest of the day. He also did not show up to either of the classes they shared that day. Loki confirmed that Steve had not been present that morning, either. He tried his best not to worry about it. He tried to do the whole “reflect on your past year and try to figure out what you would like to do differently” thing for Samhain. The problem was, all he could really think about was Steve. Whether he was all right, what he was doing, if he needed anything, if Thor should even do anything aside from letting Steve have time to himself.

It was not helping. Thor reflected back on his past relationships for any clue as to how to deal with this. He had never dated anyone with a mental illness before. It was vexing in a sense. He was the sort of person who wanted to fix problems, provide solutions, be the one his partner leaned on. Now it was like he was powerless. He literally could not do anything to help Steve. It was vexing.

Through some stroke of luck, fate, or the favor of the gods, Thor did not have practice today as there were no games that weekend. Which meant that he and Loki were going home around the same time and Thor got to experience the hustle and bustle that was everyone trying to get home at once.

“How do you live with this every day?” Thor asked.

“Trust me, brother,” he replied. “I have no idea. I thought you were going to the GSA meeting?”

Thor made a noncommittal sound. “Your boyfriend got to my boyfriend,” he said. “That sort of killed that idea.”

“I know, I apologize,” Loki said. “I have tried to be… discreet about subjects that seem to upset Steve, but I fear Tony can be… how do the British say it?”

“A bull in the china shop?” Thor suggested.

“Yes that,” he replied. “Honestly, sometimes I wonder if he is aware of others’ cues or if his brilliant brain gets in the way.”

He had a point. Tony was a year younger than Loki but he was, like Thor and Steve, in all advanced classes. He could, theoretically, graduate. Why he was not going to do so was beyond Thor.

Mr. Baker was waiting for them when they arrived at the front door. That was something at least. Thor was uncharacteristically impatient to get home. He could not figure out why. Maybe he was needing some time alone himself, for once. It was known to happen on occasion. He could not be expected to spend every waking moment of everyday with people, much as he frequently did so.

When he got home he literally dropped his bag at the door and collapsed on the couch. His mother was waiting for them. He would have thought that she would be getting ready for the Samhain celebration beginning tonight and ending the day after Halloween. Three days of celebration, reflection, and ringing in the new year. Thor mostly looked forward to the part that fell on Halloween. His parents always got a pig roast for the celebration and usually the whole neighborhood showed up to get some, carve pumpkins, bob for apples, all the usual harvest festival things. The fact that their strangely traditional, conservative Christian neighborhood helped them celebrate one of the most pagan holidays since Christmas amused his family every year.

“Are you all right, dear?” she asked.

“It was a rough day, mother,” he groaned into a pillow.

“What happened?”

He sighed. “Steve was having a bad day with his anxiety,” he said. “He went home early.”

She remained silent.

“I do not know what to do, mother,” he said. “I want to help, I want to fix it, but I cannot. There is nothing I can do.”

“Well, I do not know what to say to you to help,” she admitted. “Perhaps he just needs time.”

“That is what he said,” he admitted. “But I do not know how to do that.”

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” she asked.

He thought for a moment. “Can I have a reading?”

Her eyebrows rose slightly. He rarely asked for a reading. He tended to do well on his own, tried to figure out his own problems. The last time he had asked for a reading, it had been earlier that year right after he learned that his ex was cheating on him. It hadn’t been a serious relationship, not as serious as he considered his relationship with Steve. But it had been important to him. It turned out that Thor was bad at long-distance relationships and living in America with a boyfriend in Sweden was about as long-distance as they got. Still, he had asked for a reading seeking a measure of objectivity.

“What are you seeking?” she asked. He thought for a moment.

“Clarity,” he said. “Guidance.”

She smiled. “Well, it is Samhain,” she said. “A perfect time for these things.”

She left to fetch a deck. She tended to collect them. Some were gifted to her, others she had purchased herself. Thor knew very little of magick. It was too esoteric and intuitive for him. He was more of an action oriented person. Magick was something that his mother and Loki were drawn to. Maybe it had something to do with being artists.

She returned a few minutes later and offered a prayer to Freya, conveying what he was seeking. Thor silently sent his own prayer to Baldr, the god of his choice, as well. He and his mother both chose to honor Baldr, as the god of light and joy. Thor chose Baldr out of a desire to hold the light in the forefront of his mind. His mother chose to do so since, as a diplomat’s wife, her role was to ensure that the people around her were happy and cared for. She also honored her namesake, Frigga, in that capacity.

“Think of the situation that you need clarity on,” she said, setting the deck before him. “When you are done, shuffle the deck with this question in mind.”

Thor focused on his relationship with Steve, on his desire to help him, his inability to do so. He bridged the deck a few times until he felt satisfied with how it turned out.

“Think of your situation,” she said again. “Choose a card that represents the area you need clarity in.”

Again, he focused. He thumbed through the cards until he felt that he had reached the right one. He set it down on the table in front of him, but did not turn it over.

“Next, think of the obstacle in the way of your desired outcome for this situation and choose a card.” Thor repeated the process. This time the card came quickly, as it was on top of the deck.

“Now think about the advice you need to see this situation resolved, however that may be,” she said. He leafed through the deck until he found the third card. When he set it down on the table, his mother said a final prayer inviting the influence of their divine patrons in helping them understand the situation at hand.

He turned over the first card, his situation.

“The Lovers,” she read. Thor huffed in amusement. “It seems appropriate. You’re in a good place with Steve, but there’s a new element in play now. The Lovers can represent a major dilemma in your life.”

She thought for a moment. “You’re in a bit a trial, actually. You must consider carefully what the right path for you is and what that entails. Whatever you do, though, be sure that it is true to who you are.”

Thor nodded and turned over the next card.

“The five of cups, inverted,” she read. “This is interesting. Here the five of cups represents an end to sorrow and melancholy, being ready to move on. Since it is in the obstacle position, I think it says that you are being impatient.”

“Impatient?” Thor asked.

“You want too much too soon, dear,” she said. “You need to give this dilemma time to resolve itself. You are ready, but you need to understand that what Steve needs from you precludes what you want from him.”

“Right, fine,” he grumbled. “Perhaps the cards are saying I need to work on patience in general.”

“That is possible,” she said. With that, Thor flipped the third card over.

“The queen of cups,” she said, smiling. “As I was just saying, you need to be sensitive to the needs of your lover. You need to consider his emotional well-being and act accordingly.”

“But, what if this is something that never really resolves itself?” Thor asked.

“Then you really need to work on your patience, dear,” she said. She moved over to his side of the table and took his hands in hers. “Thor, all relationships take work. They’re all hard. We all have fears and insecurities and try as you might, you cannot fix them by sheer force of will.”

“What do I do then?” he asked. “I care about him, mother. I hate seeing him so.”

She rested a hand on his cheek. “You want to be the one people look to for support,” she said. “Especially for your lovers. Perhaps this is a time to learn what that means for Steve. Do you understand?”

“No,” he confessed.

“Good. That would defeat the purpose of learning the lesson,” she said, gathering up her cards. “And for what it’s worth, dear, I do believe that you and Steve can figure it out.”

“Is this another one of your infallible feelings?” he asked with a rueful grin.

“Yes actually,” she said. “Now go get dressed. Samhain starts tonight and your father expects you to look respectable.”

Thor sighed. Then he embraced his mother. “Thank you, mother.”

“Oh my darling boy,” she said. “Any time.”