#two: this is as ridiculous as teachers not giving the class recess just because one dude misbehaved; it’s group blaming & unnecessary | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

urlocalnctstan · 3 years

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𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚄𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 - 𝙹.𝚂𝙶

• Candy Hearts Collab - @127-mile

Prompt : “I came to say goodbye.”

Genre : Angst, Fluff, kinda Slow-burnish?, Slice of life, highschool + college AU

Pairing : Sungchan X Reader (Ft. Jeno)

Warning(s) : mentions of bullying and injury (like one scene only), unrequited love, mentions of slight anxiety, hormonal shifts, language, minor character death

Writing nets : @kdiarynet @k-dinernet @kpopscape @czennienet @neoturtles

Taglist : @eh-ovo-nctu

WC : 9.7k

Summary : What people hated the most is the very word ‘goodbye’. However, it’s the very word that becomes something that you yearn to hear from Sungchan for years.

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The sound of the rain was supposed to calm you down, not make you even more anxious and sweaty and you sat with your legs firmly pressed against each other, hoping to fill in the lack of company you were feeling amongst the swarm of people who perhaps shared the same dreams, same aim as yours. Public places as trains, trams, bus stops; you always thought they portrayed as the perfect definition for the word ‘sonder.’ Each individual having a life pretty much as complex as yours — sometimes a little less or sometimes a little more. It fascinated you.

“Do you think the trip is worth it?” Lee Jeno, your best friend of quite a few years puffs his cheeks as he stared dubiously at the red and white poster he held. You took a peek at it, the amount of times Jeno had been pestering you if he should really give up the money he had saved for PS5 as a sacrifice for this trip, it was safe enough for you to say that you had every words printed on it memorized. Well, maybe not every words but the main stuff at least.

“Lee Jeno,” You sharply gawked at the male sitting beside you, earning an ugly grimace from him. “Stop it already. I don’t know about you but I ain’t passing this chance.”

“Wah, what a nice friend I got.” You failed to notice the dramatic eye roll he makes before shoving the poster in his backpack, the one he had been using since the first day you had befriended him. Was it 5 years? 6 years?

“Are we five years or six years?” But I met him on that bookstore down my neighborhood, that was like spring of 2017 and now it’s 2021.

The male let out a snort. “If I am a five year-old then you are definitely still inside the womb.” Even though he was smiling with that ‘innocent eye smile’ the evil smirk sheathed beneath went unnoticed by you. No sooner had he opened his mouth, a fresh harsh smack landed on his arms that were clad in a filmsy material of cotton and thus a silent yelp of pain escaping from him as he grabbed the area which was starting to sting with each passing second. The smack, albeit meant for him, you were unable to ignore the similar stinging pain in your palm, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. But you made sure to show absolutely no signs of distress; it was somewhat a matter of childish pride for you.

“Change your career aim from a perfumist to an assassinator will you?” If it were the campus grounds, you two would have already been latched at one another throats; both metaphorically and literally.

“I will gladly not.” You huffed at the male whose eyes held a scornful gaze, now even more annoyed or perhaps, as you would think most of the times, he was just exaggerating. You found yourself mindlessly scrolling through your gallery in search of the recent notes from Mr. Kim’s classes. Until you stumble across something you had been long avoiding, a forlorn fragment from the former days of your high school.

“Here lies the proof of my utmost love and affection, always devoted to my only Y/N.”

It was a picture of you smiling way too bright, cheeks and nose flushed red while being squished by the only male in the frame as he pressed a peck against your cheek. His neck was craned to the side, ripe ears clearly visible in the small Polaroid film. As much as you hated to admit, your heart would still make flips and turns whenever you run into something that reminded you of him, your very first love and first heart break—Jung Sungchan.

Jeno was too busy in his dreamland as he dozed off with his head resting peacefully against your shoulder. It was no new news that the lad had been immensely in love with you ever since the first time you saved him from getting bullied back in 9th grade. However, you were always too busy with your academics and extra-curricular activities and thus clearly drawing a line of only being friends. Nothing else. It happened when Jeno had finally mustered up the courage after excelling in his Maths Olympiad, where he made a bet that if he indeed secures a place in the top 5, you have to abide by anything he wishes for. But he wished for your love, something you were not really capable of doing so; especially at that time. You did not have the heart to say no when Jeno jogged up to you, his eyes transforming into crescents as he smiled wide. “I did it!” His words came out rather breathy, possibly because of him running to you, and maybe because how hard he could feel his heart thump against his ribs when he noticed the proud grin on your face. Without wasting any moment further, Jeno lets go of the white banner of achievement he had been holding, his hands now focusing on yours. You could almost feel the slight tremble and the wetness of his sweaty palms, but before you could even say anything he beat to you by saying, “Go out on a date with me. Only one.”

There were numerous times when you felt guilty about turning down Jeno. At times it had you baffled that why a guy like him would ever bother liking you so much. Jeno was incredibly talented; gifted with unfair boon of genius traits in both academics and athletics. His little version of him always demeaned his abilities, often failing to notice that how much more he was rather than just a quiet kid who loved coding and maths. Maybe perhaps that was the very reason for him to face the bullying, at least that’s what you thought when you first noticed him getting cornered by some stupid idiot dipshits from your class during recess. Jeno’s ID card lay discarded on the ground, as Kihyun grabbed its owner by the collar. You could not understand his reason for not fighting back, and thus being a silent spectator was never your thing so you decided to butt in. As much as you equally hated and liked one thing, boys seemed to get kinda wary of your presence. Especially boys like these who were already in the blacklist of the teachers. It did not take them long to pick their asses and run from the site when you glared them with a threatening gaze, a single word from the class president and they would get suspended yet again for the umpteenth time in the year. You crouched down to Jeno’s level, carefully handing him his ID. You did not bother asking him if he was okay, of course he wasn’t. His face showed signs of previous injuries, the purple hues of bruises slightly fading beside his jaws. You still don’t know why but you felt the need to protect him from his solace, thus leading to this inseparable bond of yours.

But that was a version of him that was long forgotten. Jeno had become the star and face of the school in the last years of your highschool. Acing various quiz competitions, Olympiads, getting highest grades, being the captain of the soccer and basketball team; you were sure God really had His favorites.

You were not surprised when Jeno brought you to your usual favourite—candle shop. It was a hidden gem in your hometown, a small secluded shop located just a few miles away from the metropolitan. Not everyone was aware of its existence until that one day you decided to act rebellious for once in your school life. Of course dragging Jeno into this so called rebel act with you. The date was rather casual, just two friends messing around with wax and chemically named perfume essences. The shop was owned by a lady close to your grandma’s age, and it still makes you wonder how on earth was she able to keep up with the hollering you two were making. No matter how much you convinced yourself that maybe you could give the boy a chance, and perhaps feelings might grow on you later on; you could not make yourself cloud your rationality with the uncertain possibilities. You confessed every single thing that had been on your mind and Jeno just calmly listened to everything you uttered. You could clearly see the expression of hurt washing over his face, but he knew you. He knew that once you had made up your mind, there was no going back. The night did not cause any indifference in your friendship; it bloomed with each passing years of your middle school and then highschool. You two had become the infamous bestfriends, the once timid boy then all buff and handsome and the once spotlight lover girl then buried in her textbooks to pass the college entrance exams.

Throughout these years of teen, the candle shop had become a constant place for anything to you both; sadness, comfort or just enjoyable times. Until that one day when you met the grandson of the lady who owned the shop. Make a guess who it was.

When people spoke of their first heartbreak, you always cringed at how they exaggerated. Technically you never experienced one, so it seemed ridiculous to you that how was it possible to a simple break to cause others this much pain. You were shocked, no scratch that. Using fancy words, you were utterly bewildered when you saw the new transfer student—Jung Sungchan was the name, standing on the makeshift podium of your classroom. Thank God the architects decided to stick to keeping the height of the room above eight feet. You had changed drastically, contrasting your previous bubbly persona, you had become more reserved. It was just you being ambitious about something you had grown to like, and after some backstabs from your friends, you did not feel the need to have so many around you. Just Jeno being there for you was more than enough.

It would be a lie if Jeno did not sense the subtle looks you had been sending over to the new guy, but he was in no place to object you. It had only been a few moments of Sungchan’s arrival and Jeno already sensed his position in your life being threatened. He knew you were a saint who always looked out for others, and something about his presence made Jeno feel wary. Jeno did not need any of the privileges he had, all of it he owed to you after all. It was you who brought the best out of him, and in the end if he has them all but not you, it wasn’t clearly worth it to him. You preferred unpredictable things; it was what he learned about you in all your years of friendship. How you would always choose mystery thrillers over typical rom-coms, how you would always vouch for the new dish in the menu every time you both visited the local barbecue house. And he knew it was impossible to be one like that, it was just typical Taurus things (as he would like to blame) that made him too practical, too predictable for you. But, you never thought like that. It was just that even though you wanted to, you couldn’t make yourself grow romantic towards the boy you always shared your oreos and ramen with. He held a dear place in your heart and life.

Sungchan was immediately welcomed to the family, the girls already swooning over his good looks and amazing grades. Plus icing on the top, he was the half-brother of the infamous Jung Yoonoh, the heartthrob of the whole school, from juniors to seniors. While Jaehyun was the typical definition of being that one dude we always see in rom-coms who is loved and admired by all for his too humble personality and ethics, Sungchan on the other hand was more of a quiet one, often too shy properly open up his orginal self around new environment. Despite that, he was naturally amiable just like his brother, a trait that perhaps ran in the Jung household. Unlike Jaehyun who was presumably born with good brains, Sungchan was a hardworking one. Sungchan tried to settle down the queasy feeling he had been feeling ever since he moved back here, now that Jaehyun was always busy in Seoul with his medical degree someone had to look after their aging grandma. Sungchan was never really a part of any group, so leaving behind his school back in the city was not that painful for him. The atmosphere of the whole campus was pretty soothing; the bushes of neatly trimmed trees, big huge playground and the ochre shaded building. He liked all of it, and to top it all the uniform was really his style: solid crème and dark maroon combination.

When Sungchan stood awkwardly in the middle of the classroom, clearly clueless as to where he would be seating since all the seats were occupied, a soft voice called out his name rather eagerly. His eyes scanned for a while until he saw you; dark hair tied up neatly into a ponytail with a pencil in your hand as you waved him to notice the empty seat beside yours. Sungchan smiled at your sweet gesture, his out of place feeling now subsiding into the warmth of the possible blooming friendship.

“Hi there, I am Y/N.” You chirped, wiping your left hand before bringing it out for him to shake. Sungchan froze for a while before he realized what he was supposed to be doing. “Oh! And this is Jeno!” You turned slightly towards your best friend sitting just behind you with his famous eye smile.

“Hello, I am Jung Sungchan.” He returned the gesture shaking both your and Jeno’s hand. Whilst Jeno had the feeling of roughness and athleticism in his, your hands were warm and soft; it felt nice he thought. That was the first impression of yours to him: ball of sunshine. And your impression of him? Reserved and unpredictable; a combination that only meant chaos and imbalance.

Sungchan side-glanced at your fumbling state. Seating next to him you in the front row, you skimmed over your not so pleasant looking notes that you had scribbled anxiously in the prior night. Public speaking had never been a big deal for you once you get adjusted to the audience after going up on stage. However, it is the pre anxiety session that just always riles you up.

“You know,” Your head whipped a bit too fast to your liking at the voice belonging to the only male that sat beside you. “I’ll show you a trick. Here.” Sungchan proceeded to softly place your trembling hands on his, cautiousness apparent with every move he made. Even though you both had been seatmates for the last three months, you never found yourself involved in any sort of skinship with him; something that was really common for you and Jeno. The look of fluster was way too obvious when Sungchan softly rubbed various shapes on the back of your hand with his thumb, you were unsure if he was actually helping you ease from nervousness or just increasing it further. It had quite been a while since you had your hands caged in his, both of you completely unaware of the looks you had been getting from your senior teachers seated in the neighboring row. The moment was cut off when your name was announced from the stage by a senior, requesting your presence to commence your speech. Sungchan slowly lets go of your hands, mumbling a soft ‘best of luck!’ with his hands now fisted as an act of verbal encouragement. You eyes wandered around the crowd for a while before locating your best friend who sat miserably beside the homeroom teacher, really closing to dozing off before noticing your presence and copying Sungchan’s gestures.

The bus paused, Jeno still deep in his slumber despite the harsh jerk of the vehicle stopping in its tracks. You sighed, he must have probably been gaming the whole night with his roommate Donghyuck again. You nudged softly at first, the lack of response later than causing you to shake him vigorously by his toned arms that barely fit in your palms. Jeno instantly sprinted up with wide eyes before softly muttering a curse at your cruel way of waking him up.

“I was definitely right about you being a torturer in your previous life.”

“Sure you were. Get your ass off the bus now.”

You parted your ways with Jeno on the campus ground, him heading to his coding facult while you headed towards the chemistry club room. Apparently a newbie was supposed to come today from the US. It was odd you assumed since US had much better facilities for students majoring in chemistry. You glanced at your figure on your way to the room, wondering if the ripped jeans were a good choice as a first impression. You just disliked the idea of leaving off bad impressions, even if you are never going to meet the person again until your next life. Jaemin, another close friend of both you and Jeno smiled widely at your entrance, waving his hand as he pointed the seat next to him enthusiastically. Jaemin and you were basically clones of each other, the leos inside of you both shinig at its best whenever you two are together.

“I don’t understand why move back here from THE United States.” Jaemin dragged out the word, scoffing silently as he handed you a cup of iced Americano. You were about to sip before pausing. You could not have possibly risked your stomach again after that one fateful day when you tasted ‘his type’ of iced Americano. This dude legit gulped down eight espresso shots with a satisfied hum, horrified looks painted on your and Jeno’s features as you both just stared at him in utter shock.

“Please not the poisonous drink.” You eyed the male suspiciously, who scoffed at the nickname.

“Of couse not little baby.” Jaemin cooed with his lips puckered and an annoying high pitched voice, purposefully pinching your cheeks a bit harder than he usually does.

“You little moth-”

“Hello guys, I am Sungchan. Nice to meet you all.” Your heart dropped at the familiar tone of voice. He isn’t possibly back again after leaving without any traces, without a single goodbye, is he? You did not dare to look at his figure standing in front of the table, awkwardly shifting in your seat while Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Hello, Sungchan.” Sulli, your senior by 2 years and also the president of the club greeted him warmly. “I hope you like it here because adjusting to a new place might be hard at times. Oh, these are your classmates; Y/N and Jaemin.”

Sungchan immediately looked in your direction at the mention of your name, his eyes equally wide in surprise mirroring your previous reaction.

“Y/N?” He called out in a rather unsure tone, just like his movements the cautiousness was also present there. “It’s been……a while….”

“Yeah, indeed.” You had a visible change in demeanor, Jaemin finally grasping the tense situation before jogging up to the male.

“Hi there, I am Na Jaemin. You can call me Nana if you want.” Jaemin put his hand out as a formality, to which Sungchan politely complied. “There’s a seat there you can sit.” Jaemin was luckily wise enough to occupy the empty seat beside yours without knowing the turn of events. He motioned Sungchan towards the seat diagonal to you, sensing the discomfort in your posture he assumed it was best if Sungchan sat somewhat further.

Concentrating on the yearly planning for the club was harder with his presence; Sungchan unable to hide his obvious lingering gaze on you. Jaemin would cough every now and then, signaling the male to focus on the club president’s instructions instead of you. But as his usual self, Sungchan pretended to not notice the clear hints, continuing keep his eyes locked on yours. You were barely able to note down some important events, knowing that Jaemin certainly cannot be trusted with his short time memory. After that president bids her farewell to everyone present in the room, you take it as your cue to just flee as soon as possible from his reach.

“Y/N, wait!” Sungchan was quick to grab you just as you were about to exit by the door, the sudden halt in movement causing you to stumble back into his embrace awkwardly. You were definitely embarrassed, your back pressed against his chest in a weird manner as you straighten yourself again. You scrunched you nose to hide your embarrassment before asking him.

“What is it now Jung Sungchan?” You were not meaning to snap at him, but the bitter memories of the past seemed to get the best of you.

Sungchan slightly winced at your cold tone, but what else could have expected after all the pain he had caused you. “I…I do..I mean like I..”

“Sungchan, I have my classes. Gather up your thoughts and then talk.” With that you turned on your heels, not even bothering to take your bag that you left on the seat you were prior sitting. Jaemin observed the scene quietly, his minds finally connecting the dots. Jung Sungchan, the boy you would always cry about whenever you got drunk, the boy who left you with nothing but memories of him. Jaemin thought it was best to not let out his inner frustration towards the guy who was now standing motionless in his tracks, lost in his trance as he gaped towards the door you had just left. Jaemin passed by Sungchan without a word, instinctively grabbing your bag as he made his way to his next class.

Sungchan stood dumbfounded, numerous thoughts racing in his mind. Why did I have to be so foolish? He thought. How can I blame her when I was the one who broke the promise first?

Summer 2017

It was getting pretty boring for you at the library; usually some of the classmates bickering would give you some sort of silent company as you scribble down the notes. But for some unfound reason you seemed to be extremely distracted. You let out a long annoyed huffed, hands stretching in weird directions as you rested your head on the wooden table. It struck your mind there might be butts of nails pointed out and you didn’t want to get yourself a shot of tetanus, so you lazily glided your hands across the surface before returning back to your half laying position. It didn’t take long for you to zone out, mind running through various scenarios of university life, jobs and perhaps marriage? You blushed at the thought, just like any other teen you were also low-key always looking forward to your wedding.

“Are you asleep?” You shot up startled at the sudden voice, eyes immediately widening as you realized the owner. Sungchan had a smile with his lips pressed into a thin line, casually pulling out the empty seat beside yours as he made himself comfortable on it.

“Good to know you’re not. I need your help.” Sungchan wasted no time rummaging out a stack of sheets from his backpack, pressing them against the wood with a loud thump. You slightly winced at the loudness since the library was extra quiet today, the sound thus bouncing off more.

“You know if it’s literature, I suck at it.” Your mind took you back at that one time when you almost got yourself a C on the mentioned subject, chills running down at the memory.

“No, no.” Sungchan waved his hands softly chuckling. “It’s actually chemistry. Judging as a seatmate, I believe it’s your best sport.”

You happily nodded at the male, pleased that you get to help him with something that was under your specialty. Sungchan took a notice of your happy state, equally pleased that it was you that would be helping him.

“Tell me, what can I help you with.” You took the fat book from his hold, skimming over the contents page before highlighting the topics that were extremely important for the semester.

“I think hybridization? I just can’t seem to get how it works!” Sungchan’s voice levitated suddenly out of frustration, momentarily catching you off guard. Sungchan seemed to notice your amused look, shyly rubbing the nape of his neck with a little shrug.

“You know this is the first time I’ve seen you frustrated.” You commented, eyes fixated on the pages even though they were being extremely reluctant to rather focus on the fussy male. “It’s pretty easy you know. Look.” You explained him cautiously and slowly, how the overlapping of the orbitals occurred not realizing the proximity that seemed to lessen drastically. You whipped at his direction to see any signs of confusion, only to be met with a pair of dark orbs that stared at you intently. As embarrassing as it may sound, you gulped loudly. A bit too loud than you had intended to.

Sunghcan took notice of the situation you both blanketed in as a wave of déjà vu washed over him. He cleared his throat loud and awkward, half to lessen the embarrassment you were feeling and to poorly hide his own. You both were looking everywhere but each other, too dumb to maximize the close distance instead of acting like awkward cats.

“What are you both doing?” a deep male voice jerked you back to reality, upon turning you saw it belonged to Jeno. When did he come here?

“She was explaining the hybridization shits.” Sungchan huffed, slowly settling back to his orginal position. “I asked you so many times though…”

“You know chemistry is not my cup of tea.” Jeno shrugged at the male, a lazy smile playing on his face. “You wanna stay for b-ball practice today?”

“Not sure, I’ll see to it mate.” Sungchan did that fist-bump with Jeno, the two casually mingling like old friends as you stared idiotically at the scene unfolding in front of you.

“Since when did you both become Damon and Pythias?”

“Y/N, please not again your alien languages.” Jeno rolled his eyes before taking the seat beside, sandwiching you between both the males. “Since you happen to be tutoring a clown, an addition of another clown won’t do you any harm.” Jeno smiled at you, his doe eyes disappearing in the process.

Sungchan held back his snort, looking over both of you, he was happy. Though he was not as close to you as he had become to Jeno, he still considered you somewhat a close friend of his. Being seatmates with you and Jeno, it was inevitable that he soon became a constant in your life. Did I tell you that the candle shop was owned by his grandma? The shop if anything, had become this secret spot for you three. Study dates, random chills or just lazying around, the candle shop would be the first name that would pop up in your mind.

With a blink of an eye perhaps junior year passes. Maybe that was how last years of highschool were. At one moment you barely just got promoted to a new class, and at another, you’re yet again getting promoted to higher one. You sat under the dull moonlight, a thin cardigan that was gifted to you by your dearest friend’s grandma. When Sungchan invited you and Jeno at his, his grandma had knitted this cardigan for you and a beanie for Jeno. The gesture was so sweet that it completely melted your heart, she was the living definition of wholesome for you.

It was maybe that one day when you three decided to stroll the spring fair of your neighborhood, when you both finally came clean to your feelings. Jeno was always the one pointing you out that how you should just be a woman and confess. “It doesn’t always have to be the guy that says I LIKE YOU!” This what we he said before disappearing into the hives of crowds, leaving you waiting for Sungchan at the front of the public toilet he was finishing his business in. Pretty awkward right? Where else does anyone get to see a girl waiting for her crush in front of a public restroom. Sungchan came back outside, shuffling out his handphone before furrowing his brows at the text he just received. You immediately understood it was from Jeno. You had no idea what came over you, it felt like the adrenaline in your system decided to flood your nervous system, not even aware of yourself just launching at the dude with a chaste kiss on his lips. He was completely taken aback by the sudden feeling of your lips on his, it took him a while before responding you back with the same enthusiasm. You broke first from the kiss, not realising your fists crunching his prior perfectly ironed shirt. But he did not mind it all, a shy smile playing on both of your faces. The rest of the night was spent with your hands laced in his, just like another high school sweethearts of the time.

You smiled at the memory. Sungchan had a cigarette lit between the tips of his fingers, the tobacco smoke slowly poking your nose but not strong enough to bother you. With a deep sigh, he took a puff before blowing it own again in the air, a cloud of smog dancing around his figure.

“You should quit it, it’s not healthy.” It had already been a year since you became friends and six months since you became more than it, but there were times like this when you still found yourself nervous and wary whenever you are talking to him. You snuggled yourself into the cardigan, hugging yourself to minimize the tinges of frostbites. Sungchan was considerate of your discomfort, whenever he smoked, he made sure the cigarette was at least 2 feet away from you.

“Take this.” Sungchan handed you another thick layer of clothing from his bag, his initials “J.SG” written big and bold. Without much thought, you accepted his kindness, and Sungchan had high tolerance to cold anyways unlike you who would shiver to death in the most usual temperatures. You figured Sungchan decided to dodge the topic you brought it, and you figured it would be better to not bring it up for a while.

“Where do you plan on going for college.” Sungchan spoke while rubbing the shortened cigarette on the bricks of the roof, swallowing the remaining water from his bottle throwing a strawberry gum inside his mouth. You figured he was now free from the reek of tobacco as you scoot closer to his form, opening your arms within the jacket for his to snuggle in as well. Just like Jeno, skinship was no new news for you both too, however; it always had your heart racing like crazy. You both remained cozy under the warm embrace of the jacket, and you prayed Sungchan would never listen how your pulse was acting up.

“I don’t know. Perhaps SNU? I mean only if I get accepted...” You trailed off, propping your chin against your bent knees before glancing at the boy. Then it struck you, what made him ask this sudden question, what made him smoke three cigarettes straight despite having yearly break for a whole month. “Will you be going to the US as well?”

“I don’t know...” Sungchan deeply sighed, his lips forming a small pout as he indulged in deep thought. What if he actually happens to leave for America? Your heart clenched at the thought, mimicking his sighs you rested your head against his shoulder.

“You know,” You stared at the sky, it was dark and clear with no signs of stars. The feeling was unsettling. “Wherever you go, we’ll always be there for you.” Your eyes shifted to the illuminating lights from numerous buildings that replaced the absence of the twinkling stars in the sky. The ominous feeling soon dissipated into relief. It was as if the universe telling you, we just have to look out for the good sides instead of dwelling on the bad.

“I know.” Sungchan smiled, one that was both happy and sad. He rested his head on yours, joining your company of gazing at the scenery. “I know.”

“Just...” there was hesitation laced in your tone, Sungchan was quick to notice it as he looked at you, nodding for you to continue. “Please don’t leave...not without a goodbye. Promise me that.”

“I promise you.” Sungchan held your cold hands in his warmer ones, a firm assurance making your heart swell in both hurt and adoration as you kissed him again.

You both never really made it official, despite the kiss at the fair. It was perhaps the uncertainty that held you both back. Sungchan’s future was not in his hands but his family’s; just like his brother, he is supposed to make his family shine bright. It was one of the major reasons why his parents let both the brothers two years of freedom on their remaining bits of high school. ‘All parents want the best for their kids,’ that’s what you would always say to him whenever you meet him at his roof; him smoking while you offered his physical comfort.

The senior year passed within a whim, the fright of entering into adulthood descending upon all the students as they remained buried in their textbooks. Maybe it wasn’t the case for everyone, but it did apply to you and your friends. You remained occupied with you daily extra classes for chemistry while Sungchan had biology and Jeno had mathematics. You three would meet up in periodic breaks, catching up with small talks before returning back to your respective schedules. It was nothing but hectic, and soon, the candle shop returned back to being just another isolated shop in your hometown.

Graduation day was filled with smiles and congratulatory phrases from different individuals, throwing your grad caps in the air felt like as if you were throwing away a significant part of your life, ready to embrace a new version of you. All the parents stood their with proud grins, delighted at their children’s achievement to their dreams.

“Congratulations!” You chirped, receiving bone crushing hugs from both your males before an elderly voice called for you.

“Y/N! Jeno! Sungchan!” It was your mom, waving excitedly to grab you and the males’ attention. “Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” You all resonated together, happy and delighted.

A series of furious knocks jolted you awake from your sleep. You figured it might have been your younger brother, probably wanting your help in his homework.

“I swear to god Y/b/n!” You let out an ear piercing shout, groggily rubbing your eyes from deep slumber.

“It’s me. Jeno.” You heard how breathy his voice sounded, it was coated with urgency and hurt. You heart dropped but you prayed to the Heavens and God, you prayed that it should not be the very thing that you had been dreading so much. You shot up from your bed, not even bothering to make yourself look presentable before whipping the door open to meet with an equally dazed and riled Jeno.

“It’s Sungchan. He...” Jeno beathed out a deep sigh, before handing you a lilac envelope, the initials J.SG written in bold. You failed to feel the tears pooling up, threatening to fall anytime. Jeno glanced over you sympathetically, with shaky trembling hands, you took the the paper.

You don’t bother to closer the door, Jeno soon taking his leave as he thought it would be best to give you some space to absorb it all in. The tears had started to stream uncontrollably when you saw the picture that came with the letter. It was one of the many pictures that you took on the night of the fair; the day you had confessed, the you had your first kiss. It was a polaroid of you holding him lovingly in an embrace, him shyly placing a kiss on your cheeks with the words ‘Here lies the proof of my utmost love and affection, always devoted to my only Y/N’ scribbled on the white frame. Your hands fished for your cellphone, frantically dialing his number as you waited for him to pick up, hoping that he’ll soothe your anxiety by saying he did not leave, that he was still in town and you were just being delusional.

But every time you dialed his contact, you were being forwarded to the monotonous tone saying that the number was currently unreachable. Your chest squeezed in pain, he had promised you. He promised you that he will come for a goodbye at least. He had promised you that he would never leave you clueless and hurting. All you ever asked for him, was just a goodbye; perhaps a source assurance for you to wait for his return.

You wiped the tears with the edge of your sleeves, opening the the piece of folded paper.

‘Dear lovely Y/N,

You might resent me when you receive this letter, and I certainly don’t blame you for that. I am not the best with words, I am clumsy and unexpressive but I hope that this piece of scribblings makes you understand all my feelings, my thoughts and emotions that have been haunting me from the day I first saw you.

You know I that I am very much aware that I do....hold some handsome genes.’ You couldn’t help but snicker at this.

‘However, unlike all, as typical as it may sound, you stood out. You lazily laid sprawling across your desk in deep slumber, completely unaware of the chaos of classroom. I wish I was that carefree like you, indulged in her own world and comfort bubble. It attracted me a lot.’ You got up from the floor, eyes still glued to the piece of paper as you shut your door locked. Your hands still went to dial his contact, but only to be forwarded to that damned robotic voice.

‘I wanted to be like you, not bothered by the constant pressures of coming from a prestigious family. Did I ever tell you my dad is the Director of Myeongsu Hospital?’ You gasped at the sudden information. His dad was the director of the one of the most prestigious and renowned hospitals of South Korea. It was too overwhelming for you to process, but you still found yourself continuing.

‘It was inevitable for me to act like just another teenager, not for me but for my brother too. I always blamed him for being so selfish when he just left me alone when he came to grandma, I failed to realize that it was some sort of comfort gift from our parents so that we’ll devote ourselves to build the family’s name for the rest of our lives.

Even though I wanna blame them, I don’t think I can because they had the same fate. It comes with a price when you’re born with a silver spoon, and I guess I had to pay mine when I left your doorstep last night. I...I was a coward. I know I should have just come up, hug you and kiss you for the last time. But I just couldn’t. I was too scared.

I was scared that the moment I’ll see you, my guards will crash down. These two days were really hectic for me, I made up excuses when you invited me at yours because I was afraid of losing my balance. I knew that only a glance at you would be enough to make me change my mind and revolt against my parents, my fate. And you have no idea how much I wanted to do so, you have no idea how I’ve spent endless of sleepless night where it is the only thing that would run on my mind. But you tell me, would it be really worth it? I did not want you spending the rest of your lives with swarming paps and reporters, publishing reports and articles of how you managed to tarnish the heir-in-line of the prestigious hospital. No I could never do to that someone I love so dearly. I could never in a thousand years do that.

You know every time I picture you in your grown-up self, I can only see a strong and confident woman thriving in her career, a woman that is so powerful but still has a heart of gold. I know that you’ll be an amazing person, inside and out. I wasn’t really planning to express my love and admiration for you like this, I hoped to do it in person, but perhaps, maybe that’s how the stars planned it out for us. Fate is extra cruel in my case don’t you think?

It would be extremely selfish of me to ask you to wait; I am not even sure if I would ever return because my father would be opening another branch in US. And well, I am not sure what plans he has for me.

So please, if you ever find it in your heart, I hope you will forgive me. And even if you don’t, please don’t ever feel guilty about it. You have all the right to do so and I most certainly deserve your hatred. I love you so much, Y/N. You’re my first kiss, my first love, and you’ll always hold this irreplaceable place in my heart.

With Love,

Jung Sungchan.

You felt your world crashing down, a part of you wished that this letter never ended. The only remain from him had also come to an end, and you were not sure how you would be able to cope with his absence for the next years of your life.

Present

“Sungchan is back?” Jeno widened his eyes in shock, the information seemingly unbelievable to him. “He really is?”

“Yes.” You monotonously replied, numerous thoughts battling at the back of your head. Jaemin cleared his throat, a sign for Jeno to not bring up the topic for a while. Jeno eyed the male in confusion before finally getting the hint.

“You’re lucky you don’t get to have Mr.Suh’s classes, he’s just hot and it’s frustrating. And that’s coming from a straight dude like me.” Jeno slurped on his smoothie loud and sound, probably to annoy the other male as he was well aware his distaste to people making sounds while eating.

“Y/N.” a voiced called out from behind, and you instantly knew who it belonged to.

“Sungchan. Oh my god!” Jeno shot up from his seat, immediately embracing the old face from his past. “How have you been man? You just disappeared...”

“I am so sorry.” Sungchan looked at Jeno with pleading eyes. “I know I have absolutely no excuse for my act and I am just so sorry, Jeno and Y/N.” Sungchan looked at Jeno who silently urged him to talk to you.

“Y/N, please talk to me. I don’t expect your forgiveness but please. Atleast curse me, hit me just do anything. Please.”

You whipped your head to find Sungchan crouching down to match your seat level, a sigh escaping from you as you stood straight from your seat.

“Guys, I’ll be back.” You gripped his hands before dragging him alongside the canteen corridor.

Jaemin looked over his friend who stood staring at the way you just took. And expressionless look was painted on his features, causing Jaemin to shake his head and sigh. “You know man,” Jeno changed his attention to the male speaking, fixing his glasses. “If I were you, I would have just held her back. You’re extremely strong, I could have never done that.” With that Jaemin patted his friend’s back, a silent assurance that if he needed a shoulder to cry or to simply lean on for comfort, he’ll be there for him.

A mixture of feelings were erupting inside you, you were furious but happy. Sad but grateful. You scanned the halls for signs of any empty classroom and upon finding one you just shoved the male inside it.

“What’s so funny about messing with my feelings?” You already tears welling up, your vision blurry as you sharply glance at the male with a frown on his face.

“Y/N, I would nev-”

“You left me,” you utterly hated at how pathetic you sounded at the moment, harshly wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks. “You promised me that you won’t leave without showing up one last time, but you did. You fucking did.” You knew it was not something under his control, but you couldn’t help but pour your bottled feelings.

“Please...Y/N...listen..to me...Please..” Sungchan lost his composure, his voice breaking as he stepped closer to you. Seeing how you did not flinch at his approach, Sungchan captivated you in his embrace, something that he had been yearning for ever since he parted ways. You felt the wetness of his tears on your head, melting in his longing embrace you found yourself hugging him back. You missed him so much, his scent, warmth, presence. Everything about him drove you crazy, you were still dazed to believe if he was actually back for real or is it just one of your numerous daydreams.

The rest of the days went as usual, but only with the addition of Sungchan back again in your life. Although you had long forgiven him in his heart, you decided to not vocal it out. As heartless as it may sound, you wanted him to make up for the pain he caused you, and he indeed did. Jaemin was skeptical in the beginning at the idea of another person joining you small group, he had come to liking the idea of you guys as trio and was more comfortable like that. But he saw how your eyes lit up every time you about him when you were newly friends with Jaemin, how Jeno would always drunk talk about the times they passed as seatmates bothering the hell out of you. So Jaemin broke his exterior cold composure on the fourth day, finally accepting the banana milk from the new male as a form of bribe for his addition to the group.

Sungchan worked harder than deities; always making sure to get you Americanos before your classes, taking extra notes for you whenever you felt sick, tolerating your extremely drunk self and even dropping you back at your dorms safely. He had mentioned how he finally mustered up the courage to stand up against his fathers, that he wanted to do something else rather than working in the medical field. Even though he had still yet to decided his desired career, Sungchan decided to just follow his intuitions which ended up him taking chemistry as his major and thus landing in the same institution and same class as yours. And not to mention, he was beyond grateful for it.

A month had passed with his arrival, the awkwardness amongst everyone long gone and forgotten. It was as if he never left you. You were never over him, so his all time sweet gestures was making it harder for you to maintain your cold act.

“I happened to attempt making kimbap? But I am not sure if they are edible..” Sungchan trailed off as he hesitantly hands you the small metal box. You almost laughed at how cute but messy they looked, his failed attempt at giving the rolls eyes and lips with sesame seeds and ketchup was beyond adorable. You took the box from his grasp, a smile playing on your face as you looked at him. Sungchan upon noticing your grin, rubbed the nap of his neck shyly, his ears and cheeks mirror the shade the of the ketchup. You took a bite from one of the many rolls he made, a hum of satisfaction escaping your lips as you relished the tangy sweet taste. It was perfect, just how you preferred it.

“It’s pretty good.” You licked the stain of ketchup from your fingers, failing to notice how the male blushed harder at your subtle act. “We have Mr.Lee’s class, so I believe we should hurry up before it’s too late.”

On the night of the annual university carnival, Sungchan confessed to you. At least not in front of a public washroom this time. With the constant aid of Jeno and Jaemin, Sungchan was able to plan out a pretty dramatic confession for you. You were completely surprised when Jaemin called you out of nowhere, frantically asking for your presence to a specific classroom. You feared if the dork had committed some sort of treason explaining how dramatic he sounded, so you rushed without giving any second thoughts. However, when you saw the trail of roses with candles adorning the edges, you froze. It had the same scent both you and Sungchan had invented; the sweet scent of lily with tinges of tangerine to it.

A flustered looking Sungchan steps out from the dark, his hands rest behind his back as you cautiously scanned your face. When he saw no signs of discomfort, Sungchan slowly jogged to where you stood, his hands holding a bouquet of lilies with a small note on top of it.

“I know I have made tons of mistakes, hurt you so many times. But I still want to test my luck.” Sungchan got down on his knees, holding the bouquet with his head hanging low. “Y/L/N, will you allow me to be your man? Will you be my girlfriend?”

A shit eating grin spread on your face, slightly giggling at how adorable he looked. “I thought you’d never ask.” You took the flowers, a soft smile adorning your lips as you lock eyes with an extremely surprised Sungchan. “Of course Sungchan.”

“Of course? For real?” Sungchan couldn’t believe what just happened, he was half expecting you to flat out reject him at how inconsiderate he had been. But you accepted his apology, accepted his love. Sungchan stood up, his heart squeezing in delight and adoration for you. He cupped your face gently, as if you were a porcelain doll that would just break if not handled carefully. You saw how his eyes shone with love, sparkling brightly on the soft light from the lighted candles and you swore you never felt so much before for anyone else as much as you felt for him. Sungchan closed the proximity, his nose slight touching yours as he rested his forehead against yours, the smiling never for once leaving his face.

The tension was building up with each passing second, the sounds of your heavy breathing being the only silence breaker. You got impatient, the feeling of his lush lips got you being greedy as you closed the distance standing on your tip-toes, momentarily catching him off the grid before receiving the same attention back. You gripped on his shirt, too unbothered to break the kiss despite losing your breath. He paused for a moment, panting before pulling you back under his spell. The bottled feelings and emotions of longing and pining for each other were poured into the this sweet shared moment of yours. You were grateful that the whole building had no signs of any lurking students and professors, what was supposed to be a innocent make-up kiss soon transformed into a heated one as he held you by your waist, pinning you against the wall with his lips still attached to yours.

You pulled back for the heavy make-out session, almost earning a whine from the male before you soothed him with you words that came next. “I love you.”

Sungchan felt his already beating heart pick up its pace, becoming hastier that he was low-key afraid if he might face a stroke anytime. With a loving grin, he looked back at you who was still caged in his arms. He tucked the stray of hair brushing across the sides of your face from the soft breeze entering the windows, the illuminating yellow hues from the candles making you look like a dream. A dream that seemed unattainable to him until this very moment.

“I love you so so much. Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance to prove myself, to allow me to show you my feelings, Y/N.” He was breathless, he felt so many emotions at that moment when you glanced at him loving. He was afraid his pulse might stop any moment, so he kissed you back, but now filled with passion and desire. And let’s just say, one of your fantasies were fulfilled that night.

The news of his grandma passing away came after a few months when you both had officially started dating. Both the Jungs were extremely close to her, so when Jaehyun took her back to Myeongsu Hospital where he was currently the chief of neurology, her condition was inevitable. Jaehyun hoped that maybe she might get to spend more time on earth under his care, but he too was victim in the cruel hands of destiny. Sungchan rushed to your dorm, bloodshot eyes as he told you the news. You found yourself sobbing alongside him, tenderly keeping him embraced in your warmth as you shared his pain. You knew her personally as well, all the moments spent with her were a profound favorite part of teen years.

“I wanted to meet you before I leave for Seoul. I came to say a goodbye.” Sungchan sniffed, his hands wiping away the streams of water rolling down your face. You smiled at his concern, mimicking his actions you brushed his sweaty bangs away from his forehead before placing a soft peck against it.

“It’s okay. Don’t tell me goodbyes anymore...for I know you’ll always come back to me.”

Epilogue

Sungchan fumbled with his tie nervously, bile reaching up his throat as the worst scenarios flooded his brains. His eyes frantically looked around for help, making a bow-tie was just not his cup of his. A breath of relief escapes his lips when his eyes landed on his closest beloved friend Jeno. Jeno stood leaning against the door frame, an amused grin painting his sharp features as he walked to the struggling male.

“Bro...” Sungchan huffed pleadingly, a pout forming his eyes.

“Yes bro.” Jeno flashed him an eye roll, before having the same eye smile again as he fixed his friend’s tie. After all, it was a big event for him.

To say the least, you looked breathtaking in your white laced gown. The simplicity of the dress made you look more elegant, it enhanced your natural beauty and Sungchan couldn’t just tear his eyes away from your form. It was supposed to be the bride’s day, but to him you shone the brightest.

“You know it’s me getting married, but the new comers might assume it’s you considering how you are gaping at y/n shamelessly.” Jaehyun hissed to his best man, earning a scoff from Sungchan.

“Hyung, let me have my moment! Please.” Sungchan whined but was careful to tone it down, only to receive a slight nudge from the groom who chuckled at his antics.

The wedding was glamorous, elegant, anything that could be named as a dream wedding. Sungchan remained glued beside you the whole night, a proud grin on his face every time he was asked about the lady whose arms laid locked with his. With a smug look, he would rub on their faces that you were his girlfriend, especially exaggerating to the males who seemed to had their eyes on you. You both enjoyed the silent company of each other, the soothing sounds of the wind replacing the absence of music as Sungchan drove you back to your place, hands still intertwined. When he came in front of your shared apartment, he fidgeted in his seat nervously; fishing out something from his coat.

You figured it was another one of his endless gifts, so you just smiled with your back resting against the cushion seat of the car.

“Sungchan, you really need to-”

A throat seering stopped you in the midst of speaking, your eyes widening when you realized what the purple velvet box might contain. Sungchan let out breaths of nervousness, blowing out some air out of his lungs to lessen the feeling of anxiety as he looked at you, eyes as genuine as ever.

“Y/N, I don’t believe in fancy proposals as you know. It is an intimate moment for us so I want it to happen in the presence of only us.” Sungchan stuttered in the middle as he opened the box, revealing an extremely gorgeous but simple plated band with a small stone adorning the top perfectly.

“So will you marry me?”

You stared at the male dumbfounded. Your eyes refused to believe the scene in front of you, hearts doing numerous flips and turns and it was just hard to explain all the feelings you were feeling. Sungchan had always been the one for you, and even though not everyone gets to have a happy ending with their first love, you were beyond grateful that you had happened to fall in the rare probability.

“I...OF COURSE. OF COURSE I WILL.” You yelped in delight, shoving your hand in front of his face as he just laughed while placing the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly. You grabbed him by the collar and kissed him with your overpowering passion and love, not realizing how if continued any longer, you guys might have to pay a fine for parking on the wrong side. So without wasting any time further, you both hauled yourselves to your apartment, refusing to break the contact of your lips molded perfectly together on your way. In short, let’s just say ‘sweet innocent kiss transformed into a heated one’ yet again.

I went completely overboard with this. I am so sorry if it didn’t turn up as you had expected it to, and honestly I am not completely pleased with it either. I felt like it could’ve been better in terms of expressing emotions. However, improvement is a never ending proccess and im still learning. SO TO WHOEVER WHO HAPPENED TO MAKE THIS TILL HERE. I LOVE YOU SODIJMS YOU DONT KNOW HOW MUCH IT MEANS TO ME.

Feedbacks and criticisms are always appreciated! Please care to leave them as it may help me potentially grow as a writer. Thank you for sparing your time to read my piece of work.

with love,

Hana.

171 notes · View notes

stickyy · 3 years

Note

Can I have a gn reader x Aizawa? Maybe a college AU where Aizawa doesn't know how to handle his crush because he was awkward when he was young and ended up a bully who was handsy. Thank you!

EEEE this is my first ask so i hope you like it anon! :D thanks so much for requesting!

DISCLAIMER: i do not condone or encourage any of the behavior outlined in the following text. this is a work of fiction, and should be treated as such. :)

wordcount: 2299

warnings: dubcon, verbal abuse, slight dumbification, forced oral sex, brief mentions of gagging/vomit (doesn’t actually happen), aizawa is an law student asshole, quirkless!AU, ooc? more likely than u think

notes: im not like a writer so when i put this in word count and saw it was 2k words i gasped-

MIDTERM

Without a doubt, Aizawa’s the smartest student in your Civil Procedure lecture. You admire him; you’re both first years, but he already has an incredible work ethic and results to show for it. He works two part-time jobs to help pay for school (alongside his impressive scholarship), studies into the late hours of the night (mostly due to his being kept awake very loud roommate), and, despite a bad habit of regularly showing up to your 8 am class slightly hungover, still manages to produce the top marks in the class.

You’re envious of him, because you’re the exact opposite. Your tuition is paid in full by your parents, you have a wonderfully quiet apartment all to yourself, and you study as best you know how, only to practically fail every assignment. You wish you could be surprised, but the material is a dreadfully bland concoction of boring procedure and esoteric theory that you rarely get further than three or four pages into a chapter. You want to like law, you really do, but there’s something about the intricacies of drafting lawsuits that goes in one ear and out the other. It’s no surprise that you sought out Aizawa’s help, desperate to at least pass the class with a decent grade.

You wish you hadn’t.

You don’t understand what you do that bothers him so deeply, but something about you coaxes cruelty from somewhere dark inside of him. You always scurry towards the back of the lecture hall to grab a seat next to him, doing your best to be quiet and unassuming, but he shoots you a venomous glare or a soft flurry of harsh words. And you get it, to an extent- some days you walk into class chattering a little too loudly on the phone, and on others you loudly shuffle around in your book bag to try finding the notes that you attempted to start for this lecture (if you even brought them that day). You know it’s annoying, but you also know you don’t deserve the downright verbal abuse he throws at you for it.

“It’s hard to take notes if you forget your textbook. Try being prepared for once,” he’ll sigh as he slides his textbook to you. Like a good student, he took notes for lecture the night before, but it still took some convincing for him to spare you his textbook.

“Do you ever shut up?” He’ll interrupt you as you babble about your difficulties understanding the most recent lecture. You want to retort, tell him off for being rude, but the words die in your throat; he radiates an annoying apathy that makes you doubt the efficacy of anything you say to him.

“You wouldn’t fail every assignment if you actually studied. Or maybe, you’re actually just stupid?” He’ll quip as you clutch your paper, a red ‘47’ scrawled in the upper corner of the page littered with your professor's critiques and question marks. By contrast, Aizawa’s paper is pristine, donning a singular red mark of ‘98, nice work!’.

With a well placed glare and the sour baritone of his voice, laced with exhaustion, it’s always enough to make your stomach drop from shame and embarrassment. Under normal circumstances, you’d never allow anyone to speak to you that way, but your grade was a dire situation, and with the midterm upcoming, you forcefully swallow your pride and ask him for his help.

You have to beg, but Aizawa agrees to tutor you the day before the midterm. This grade is a make or break for the class- if you do poorly on this exam, you’ll have to drop the lecture to salvage your gpa, putting you half a semester behind your peers. It’s motivation enough to deal with his poor attitude, and the two of you end up reviewing in an empty studying room on the top floor of the library. You began the session alert and determined to catch up, but studying with him shows you just how far behind you are. The textbook sounds like foreign poetry coming from his mouth; Aizawa is nothing short of eloquent when explaining the complexities of something as boring as filing lawsuits, and you spend most of the two hours spent just zoning out, completely unable to focus.

“You’re just wasting my time at this point.” The break in his cadence snaps you out of your trance, unfocused eyes meeting his tired ones, slightly lidded in annoyance, “Are you even trying to remember the material? Or are you just expecting me to spoon-feed it to you?”

Your throat catches, forcing you to swallow a lump as you attempt to ignore his words.

“I am trying! I just don’t understand why there are two approaches, is all,” You whine, flipping back through your sparse notes to find the section that contained the explanation.

“I went over that almost 3 chapters ago. If you were paying attention, you would’ve stopped me by now. It’s hard to believe that you even got into this school, if this is how you studied in high school. Did your daddy pull some strings with his buddies in admissions?”

Your eyes narrow, searching harder for the correct section in your notes. That’s a pretty low blow, and even if he’s not completely wrong, it still stings. You now know for a fact you didn’t even read this part of the text, but you keep your eyes trained on the page. At this point, you’d do anything to avoid looking at Aizawa, lest you begin to cry.

“Don’t be an asshole,” is all you can muster, voice shaking with unshed tears, “Would it kill you to be a little nicer? It’s hard to focus when all you do is insult me.”

“It’s hard to focus?” He repeats, his tone a sickly sweet mockery of yours. “Sweetheart, I don’t think that’s my fault. You’re a lot dumber than you think, if you even think at all. The midterm is tomorrow, and we’re just now getting into chapter five. Don’t get mad at me for actually trying to study; if I was holding your hand through it all, we’d still be on chapter one.”

Your vision blurs and a single tear hits the lined paper of your notes, causing the ink to blur as the drop absorbs into the page. You clench your jaw and take a breath before standing up, opening your backpack to put you things away. You didn’t have to take this abuse, you could study on your own. Even if you did poorly, you’d have some of your dignity left.

“It’s pretty rude to just walk out on someone trying to help you,” Aizawa says after a moment, closing his notes shut. “Not only do you give me a headache every single morning, but I try to tutor you and you want to leave without even thanking me? I’m busy, you know? I take time that I don’t have to spare just help your sorry ass out, for free, and you’re not even capable of learning anything from it.”

You sling your bag over your shoulder and move to leave, but you find yourself face to face with Aizawa, his tall frame blocking the door, arms crossed over his chest, and a thoroughly disgusted expression plastered on his features.

“I should charge you a fee, just for completely wasting an afternoon. Absolutely ridiculous,” His tone is a juxtaposition to his demeanor; he sounds more amused than annoyed, a jeer underlying the words. It makes you feel sick, and you’re suddenly grossly aware of the fact that you're alone with him, the only method of escape blocked. It feels dangerous, and you want nothing more than to be at home, alone and safe.

“H-how much?” You stutter meekly, eager to appease him. “I don’t really have any cash on me but if you have Venmo-”

“That’s not quite what I had in mind,” Your heart starts to jackhammer against your ribcage and panic sets in. You’re frozen in place, unwilling to ask him to elaborate. You may not be very bright, but you have a good idea of what he’s going to ask for, and you can think of a million things you’d rather do instead.

“I know your pretty little skull is practically an echo chamber, so listen closely, okay? We both know that no matter how hard you try, you won’t be ready for the exam by the end of tonight, and I have to work in an hour and a half. So, if you behave and do what I ask you, I’ll let you copy my exam answers tomorrow. Understand?”

You’re silent, paralyzed by fear. A part of you wants to run, desperately, but your mind drifts to the midterm. You know that without any help, you’ll surely fail.

That’s how you end up on your knees in front of him, tears finally streaming down your face from choking on his thick cock.

“That’s it,” he groans breathlessly, eyes fluttering shut as his head presses back against the door, “I knew you were good for something. I bet this is how you convinced your other teachers to give you a passing grade, huh? A few cocks down your throat-fuck, to save your gpa, I wouldn’t put it past you, dumb slut.”

You hate this- hate being reduced to just a mouth for him to fuck. You hate how he sneers down at you, his eyes alight with sadistic pleasure. You especially hate the treacherous way your spine tingles and heat pools low in your stomach at his amused growls and degrading remarks. He’s just as cruel with the way he fucks into your mouth, disregarding your comfort entirely, hand in your hair roughly guiding your head over his length. He’s almost painfully thick, stretching your lips wide, tickling the recesses of your throat in a grotesque way. You try to wiggle away slightly, just to take a small breath; you’re beginning to feel dangerously lightheaded. You begin to pull your head away but he thrusts his hips upward, holding your head down and forcing your lips to wrap around the base of his cock.

“S’okay, baby, just relax that empty little head of yours, no need to breathe right now,” he sighs, watching you struggle against him with a smirk, watching the fear bloom in your chest and your mind buzz with the lack of oxygen. Your thrashing shifts his cock in just the right way and you violently gag, eyes widening with the painful sensation. You’re almost convinced he’s going to let you pass out, right before he yanks you off of him. You cough violently, gagging a few more times, drool spilling out of your mouth.

“Throw up on me and a failing grade will be the least of your problems,” he growls, and the threat is a sobering reminder of how fucked up this is. You meet his expectant gaze, and reluctantly return to the task at hand. You can hold out just a little longer, you tell yourself; his hips are beginning to move on their own accord and you know he won’t last much longer. All you have to do is hang on and it will all be over soon.

You know that he’s just a bully, that you’re just doing what you have to do in order to pass this class, that you’re worth more than your grades, that you aren’t stupid- but the dark part of your mind questions if he’s right. Maybe you do belong on your knees, because what do you know? Maybe you are just a dumb slut; there’s no need to study if the only thing you’re good for is swallowing.

The shameful thought forces a new torrent of tears to pour from your eyes, gagging once more on both your tears and his cock, and the look of pure despair on your face pushes him over the edge. Aizawa yanks your head from his cock with a curse and you flinch as his hot cum hits your face. There’s a lot of it, the viscous seed slowly dripping down your face. The sensation is downright disgusting. You feel dirty and used, your throat sore, knees burning, lips swollen from his brutal assault. He presses the tip of his cock on your cheek, smearing his load all over your skin with a cruel laugh.

Through your panting, you keep your eyes closed for a little bit, hoping that maybe this is an awful nightmare and you’ll wake up in your dorm, with an extra day to study and a little more hope in your heart.

The sound of a camera shutter rips you from your fantasy, opening your eyes to see Aizawa grinning at his phone. You’re too shocked to say anything, only staring at him incredulously from your position on the floor in front of him.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, you know?” He hums as he tidies himself up and grabs his bag. “So photogenic, I’ll be able to get off to this for weeks. Who knows what good you’d be if you were dumb and ugly.”

You didn’t notice that you had stopped crying, but the fresh tears and sound of your own sobs call your attention to fact.

“Try and clean up before you leave, alright? I know you’re a little too stupid to remember, but I don’t think it’d be a good look for you to walk around covered in cum.”

The door clicks closed, and through your sobs you look around at the room, only to notice that there aren’t any tissues left laying around. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him.

(But at least you get an A- on your midterm.)

224 notes · View notes

radiorenjun · 3 years

Text

I Don't Need It

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn’t stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Warnings: mental breakdowns, heartbreak, rejection, major angst, arguments, flashbacks, physical injuries, fighting, underaged drinking, panic attacks, mentions of death, slight mentions of druGS? I swear this series is getting closer to an end oml

• Wordcount : 8.4k

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: XIV, XV

Jaemin scanned the empty science lab, his hand on the doorway as he poked his head into the room like a small bunny peeking into the bushes. His eyes lit up when he found your distressed figure sitting on your assigned table, brows furrowed and tongue sticking out slightly in concentration as you flipped through the pages of your book with one hand and writing on a piece of paper in the other.

He chuckled, realising that you had forgotten to do your homework again and had decided to finish it fifteen minutes before the bell rings. ‘Typical,’ he thought fondly, taking a small step into the lab to lean his body against the doorway, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets as he continued to gaze longingly at you.

‘I never realised how adorable she looks whenever she’s focused like this,’ Jaemin couldn’t stop the giddy smile slowly stretching across his lips as he examined your state. You were in like your own personal bubble, one that only Jaemin, at that moment, could see. You were so close to him, but not close enough for his heart to reach.

Feeling someone’s gaze on you, you stopped writing and looked up to see the familiar brown haired boy staring shamelessly at you. You didn’t know if he was shocked to see you look up at him, but if he was, he was definitely good at hiding it. “Why are you standing there and staring at me like a creep?” you asked with an exhausted sigh, straightening your back in your chair before going back to writing without another glance.

“You’re the only one in this room,” Jaemin replied shortly, his expression remaining unfazed by the fact that you had caught him staring. Though the way his heart skipped a beat told him otherwise. “That still doesn’t give you a reason to stare at me like some kind of stalker,” you mumbled back monotonously, flipping a page from your textbook and sparing a small glance at the boy standing a few feet away from you.

“It’s a free country, y/n. I’m just looking at you,” he shrugged, standing up straight to walk closer to you, stopping right in front of your desk to look down at your paper. “Well, do you mind? It’s really distracting,” you leaned your head against your palm, rubbing your temples with your fingers as you tried to concentrate on finishing what’s left of your essay paper.

He ignored your previous statement and leaned over to see that it was the essay assigned last week, his brows raising in amusement as he chuckled softly. “You always forget to do your homework,” he stated with a soft, almost inaudible tone. You took a silent breath, unconsciously gripping your pen tighter as you wrote. “Yeah, nothing much has changed, really,” you responded with a small shrug.

Jaemin stood there, silently watching you jot down the lines you highlighted in your textbook on the piece of paper in the empty lab room. The atmosphere was tense, but yet again, it was almost comforting. You two didn’t know what to say to ease the tension but you both knew that you felt comfort in each other’s presence. And that was alright for you.

But you both couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiarity at that moment. The feeling of Jaemin looking down at you curiously giving the both of you some sort of deja vu.

“Y/n!” Jaemin exclaimed, running up to you from across the classroom with a bright smile stretched across his face. “My mom gave me some lunch money. Accompany me to the cafeteria!” he whined, stopping right in front of your desk, plopping his hands on the wooden surface harshly, startling you in the process as you let out a loud yelp.

“Jaemin! You startled me!” you complained, hitting your best friend’s shoulder playfully. Jaemin laughed, whacking your hands away from his arm before grabbing your hand gingerly, bouncing excitedly in his stance. “Come on! I really want to get those mozzarella sticks before they run out!” he whined, attempting to pull you away from your seat but you held him back.

“No! Why do you need me to come with you,” you whined, letting him continue to tug your wrist playfully as you hold your ground. “I need moral support!” he whined, mimicking your childish tone as he continued to pull you out of your seat. “But I don’t want to go,” you replied, dragging out the vowels at the end of your sentence.

“But why?” Jaemin stretched out the ‘y’ as he stopped pulling you, keeping your hand in his as he pouted at you, giving you his signature puppy dog eyes that almost made you give in. “Nope! Not this time! I’m not going to fall for it!” you quickly tugged your hand out of his to cover your eyes and bury them in your arms as you leaned your body against the table to hide your face from his.

“Oh come on, y/n. Please?”

You couldn’t see him, but you knew that he had moved to stand right in front of you, fingers intertwined together and puppy dog eyes ready to bore into yours in case you raised your head up. “No! You can go by yourself!” you shook your head against your arms, laughing at how ridiculous the two of you were acting at the absurd situation.

“Please? I’ll even share my mozzarella sticks with you, pinky promise!” Jaemin pleaded with a hopeful tone.

Truthfully, ever since your teacher had decided to separate the two of you and placed Jaemin in the seat across the room. He started using recess as a way to make up for the time you spent in class giving silly looks at each other in between lectures. In conclusion, he just really wanted to spend more time with his best friend.

“No!” you huffed, burying your face deeper into your arms before hearing a small groan from your best friend. “You’re 11 Jaemin! You can go to the canteen yourself!” you told him, rolling your eyes at his childishness. “I know, but it isn’t the same if I go down the cafeteria without you,” you felt a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently as he nagged once again.

“Come on! You’re not even doing anything in the classroom,” he whined, making you look up at him with a deep frown of your own, bottom lip jutting out as you mirrored his expression. “You don’t even know what I’m doing,” you stuck your tongue out at him, crossing your arms on the table and laying your chin on it before averting your eyes away from his.

“Oh really? What are you doing then?” he asked in a sassy tone, crossing his arms against his chest. “I’m not telling you,” you blew a raspberry at him, giggling afterwards as he gasped dramatically, his face contorted into an offended expression. “Why not?” he frowned, giving you a deep pout as he crossed his arms against his chest.

“Because I said so!” you grinned mischievously, watching as your best friend continued to nag at you, shaking your shoulders aggressively. “Fine! I’ll tell you,” you groaned in defeat, pushing his hands away from you with a small huff. You pulled away to sit up straight in your chair, revealing that you were hiding a small pile of papers filled with your messy doodles and handwriting.

“I’m making letters for everyone!” you beamed, showing him the letters you have written so far. Jaemin picked up one of the papers, his pupils dilating when he saw that you have written letters for your family and relatives. “I want to finish them today while I still have the energy,” you explained, gesturing at the colourful markers and pens scattered on your desk.

“You didn’t write a letter for me?” Jaemin frowned jokingly, putting the paper down on your desk. You frowned, remembering that you haven’t written a letter for your best friend yet. You thought about it for a moment, scanning your desk before your eyes lit up as an idea popped into your head. Noticing the way your facial expressions change, Jaemin was about to clarify how he was joking but he quickly shut his mouth when he saw you reaching over to your pens.

You grabbed a bright yellow sticky note and began scribbling and writing with the colorful markers around you. Jaemin hovered over your figure, trying to take a look at whatever you were doing. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t see anything you were doing with the way your body basically covered his sight of the small paper. You were too busy with decorating your sticky note to notice how Jaemin had scooted closer to you to try to take a small peak.

“And done!” you exclaimed, sitting up quickly, startling Jaemin. His breath hitched, realising that if it weren’t for his reflexes, the back of your head would’ve knocked against his chin. “What do you mean ‘done’?” he asked, furrowing his brows in confusion as you quickly peeled the sticky note off of the pack and sticking it to his forehead eagerly.

He flinched at the sudden contact, wincing slightly when he felt your palm make contact with his forehead. “There! I wrote you a letter!” you stood up, putting your hands on your hips as you looked back at him with a proud expression on your face. “What did you just make me?” he asked, pulling the sticky note off of his forehead, cringing slightly when he felt strands of his hair sticking to it.

“A letter, just like what you wanted, right?” you giggled as Jaemin examined the yellow paper. There were small random doodles of weird symbols and smiley faces all over the paper, letters written in different coloured markers in the middle of the paper. “To my Jaemin, thank you for being the best friend I never asked for but always needed! Please continue to feed me and be my friend until we grow grey, old and wrinkly.” was written in your typical messy handwriting.

“’Please continue to feed me’, I knew you were friends with me for my food!” he pointed a finger at you with a wide smile across his face. Despite the fact that he kept accusing you for being friends with him because he always shares his food with you, deep down, you both knew he loved the little letter you wrote for him in a span of three minutes. And he was more than happy to stick by your side until the end.

“Are you just going to keep standing there like a creep until the teacher comes?” Jaemin snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Jeno’s voice nearby. He blinked, standing up straight when he realised that Jeno had taken the empty seat beside you, looking at him with a raised brow as you finally finished your homework with a click of your tongue.

“What?” Jaemin blurted out, his gaze averted from Jeno’s deadpan expression to your unfazed one as you stood up abruptly, ignoring the two boys to walk up to the teacher’s desk at the front of the class. “You’re really trying hard to get her back, huh?” Jeno asked with a soft hum, leaning his cheek against his palm with a heavy sigh. “I’m not getting her back, I never even had her in the first place,” the words felt bitter in Jaemin’s mouth. But he knew it was the truth.

“She’s really ignoring your presence, huh?” Jeno hummed, fidgeting with his phone. “I don’t blame her, really. I was kind of being inconsiderate when she kept saying no to me,” Jaemin bit his lip, feeling his heart sink to his stomach as he recalls how uncomfortable you looked whenever he tried to desperately talk to you or ask you to start over. “Everyone has their own limits. I don’t blame her for acting like this.”

“So what? You’re just going to lay around, stare at her like a creep without making a move?” Jeno asked, looking up at his best friend. Jaemin’s tired eyes never left your figure as you began talking to one of your classmates, slipping his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he let out a longing sigh. “She needs a little more space, I don’t want to fuck things up even more than I already have. I’ll just make small moves. I don’t want to force her,” he explained rather hesitantly.

“I don’t want to overwhelm her like I did back then. Especially after the party,” Jaemin licked his slightly chapped lips when his mind wandered to the kiss you two shared at the party, his heart racing at the memory. “I just want her to stop hurting because of me,” he confessed with a sigh, looking down at the floor with an almost hopeless expression.

“Haechan really did slap some sense into you, huh?” Jeno chuckled, his expression softened when he realised how Jaemin was acting slightly more mature than he was before the party. “No shit, he almost punched me on the face,” Jaemin let out a small laugh, shaking his head profusely as he recalled the second time Donghyuck made him get his shit together.

After Renjun had left, Donghyuck walked in to scold the hell out of the younger boy. Donghyuck almost punched Jaemin across the face when he heard that y/n was in another room with her mind jumbled up, he scolded Jaemin for moving too quickly. “Get your shit together, Na Jaemin. Don’t you get it? She’s never going to stop hurting if you keep pushing yourself back in her life with no warning!” never left Jaemin’s mind.

“All you’ve done is complain and whine and drag yourself in situations that you’re both not comfortable in. What the fuck? You keep saying you want to ‘make things right’ but all you’ve done so far is make her uncomfortable. You’re pushing each other away even more, you dumbass. Stop whining and complaining about it and actually do something right for once, Na Jaemin!”

“She didn’t give up on me until I snapped. I’m not giving up on her until she snaps either,” Jaemin shrugged, glancing up at the clock to see that he should be heading to his own class right now. Jeno furrowed his brows in concern, “and if she does?” he asked quietly, taking a quick glance at you before turning back to his best friend.

Jaemin sighed, shrugging in defeat. “Then I’ll finally get a taste of my own medicine.”

“Hey, someone just placed a rock on your desk.”

“Wait what?” you furrowed your brows, turning your head to see that one of your classmates had come up to you, pointing at your desk casually. “Someone just came in and dropped off a rock on your desk,” your classmate repeated with a small laugh, an amused expression taking over their features as you became even more confused.

“A rock?” you furrowed your brows, a feeling of deja vu overcoming you at the mere mention of it.

“A rock? Are you kidding me?” Yeeun, the girl you were talking to, spoke incredulously, crossing her arms against her chest. “What the fuck? That’s so random,” she laughed, turning to see your baffled expression. You turned to her with a speechless expression before walking over to your own desk with your friends following right behind you.

“Listen, if you don’t believe me just go ahead and see for yourself,” your classmate rolled her eyes at Yeeun, pointing at the small object on your desk right in between the messy area of your books and pens. “This looks like some weird omen, you know. Like those weird horror movie get ups,” your classmate commented with a light chuckle.

“Wait, you were actually serious?” she exclaimed with a laugh, looking at your classmate who shrugged simply. You stared at the stone sitting innocently on your desk, taking a step closer to pick it up in one of your hands. “It appears they drew something on it,” your friend pointed out, tapping her finger on the underside of the rock

Your eyebrows raised slightly, flipping the rock around to see that the person who gave you the rock had drawn small hearts with different colored sharpies. There was a yellow small smiley face in the middle, the little smile on the drawing was sending sparks into your heart when you realised there was no one else in the world who would even think of giving you a random rock unless it was Na Jaemin himself.

‘Copycat’, you thought to yourself with a small chuckle, feeling your heart jump at the small gift. You turned to your friend, attempting to hide how flustered you were feeling with a casual expression. “Did you see who came in and placed this here?” you asked, bouncing the rock in your hands casually as if you hadn’t already known who had given you the rock in question.

“Unfortunately, no. I did catch a mop of brown hair running out of the classroom, though,” your classmate grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at you teasingly. “I’m assuming the tables have turned with Mister Hard-To-Get, huh?” Yeeun teased, nudging your side with her elbow, giggling along with your friend. You almost broke into a smile at the mere mention of the boy. But the empty feeling in your heart wasn’t having it.

“Look at you, being pined over by your long term crush slash childhood best friend. I would celebrate if I were you. Hell, it’s also the team captain himself! I’d be over the moon if I were you,” Yeeun gushed, looking at your classmate who nodded eagerly in agreement. “He totally likes you back now. No guaranteed, you’re out of the friendzone now, I’m so happy for you!”

You frowned, sighing as you shake your head. “I don’t think so. Plus, you know very well I’m over it,” you sighed, pulling your bag from your chair and tucking the rock in one of the open pockets. “I know, I know. But shouldn’t you be happy? You’ve been pining him since high school started and you were whipped as fuck. Now that you finally have him chasing your tail, shouldn’t you be over the moon?” your classmate asked curiously, furrowing her brows.

“You’re not wrong. I mean, come on, y/n! Maybe Jaemin actually changed his mind about the stupid ‘going against fate’ bullshit. You should definitely give him a chance! You’ve been giving him a taste of his own medicine but don’t you think you two should stop pushing and pulling each other away and finally be the power couple I always imagined you to be?” Yeeun whined, nodding along with your classmate who gave you an affirming smile.

Yeeun was always one of those students who found the whole drama between you and Jaemin entertaining. She was rooting for the two of you to be together. She believed that you two were perfect for each other and you two just needed to talk things out. Yeeun always loved seeing you being so whipped for your soulmate that she, like many others, failed to see that it was also hurting the both of you.

“This isn’t some weird k-drama, Yeeun,” you chuckled, shaking your head as you stood up straight, looking straight at your friends with a gloomy smile across your face. “Plus, I kind of need a break from simping on him. I’ve been a devoted simp for two whole years, it’s time for me to stop. God, I must have been so annoying. Honestly, if I were Jaemin, I would’ve removed my tattoo in a heartbeat,” you laughed lightly, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly as you zipped up your bag.

You noticed the smiles on your friends’ faces have faltered at your words, making you realise that you spoke a little too much. Coughing to clear up the tension, you let out a small laugh. “Sorry, what am I even saying?” you chuckled to yourself in disbelief, rubbing your face in frustration as you let out a tired sigh. “Are you okay, y/n?” Yeeun asked, genuine concern spreading over her features.

You hummed, nodding before giving her a tight-lipped smile. “I’m fine. I guess I’m just really tired, right now,” you lied, giving them a small thumbs up. “I’ll go wash up, excuse me,” you gave them a small nod, looking at the concerned expressions on their faces as you attempt to give them what seems to be a smile before walking out of the classroom.

Tired, huh?

Occasionally, Jeno would invite Jaemin out to go cycling around on Saturday mornings to get his mind off of things or to simply hang out. And today, Jaemin couldn’t be more grateful to his best friend for forcing him to go out instead of staying all cooped up in his room playing overwatch with Donghyuck all day.

“Wait, I ran out of water,” Jaemin informed, showing Jeno his empty water bottle before putting it back in his bag. “Oh, there’s a small convenience store. You can buy something there. Did you forget to bring your wallet again?” Jeno asked, pointing at the small store a few buildings away from them. “Shut up, I don’t always forget to bring my wallet,” Jaemin chuckled, leaning his bike against the pole near them as he wiped the sweat off of his brows.

“Sure, buddy. Go get your water so we can get going. My mom’s making her special stew tonight,” Jeno shoved Jaemin playfully with a laugh, rolling his eyes at his best friend. “Okay, okay. You want anything?” Jaemin asked, waving his wallet in the air with a wide grin. Jeno shook his head, waving his hand at the younger boy. “You’re broke enough, I’m not going to make you even more poor than you already are,” he joked, earning a pout from Jaemin.

He huffed before jogging off to the convenience store, telling Jeno to watch his bike while he’s gone, missing the small thumbs up the black haired boy gave him in return.

Jaemin pushed open the door, giving the cashier a small smile and an awkward nod before walking down the aisle to find himself a drink. Scanning his eyes through the aisle, he spotted a familiar figure at the corner of his eyes as he walked past the snack aisle at the corner of his eye. Eyes widening when he realised that it was you in your sleep deprived glory.

You were wearing one of the hoodies he had gifted you for your 16th birthday, your eyes were half-lidded as if you were on the brink of falling asleep on the spot. A hand rubbing one of your eyes as the other holds on to the large packet of flaming hot cheetos against your chest. Jaemin felt his throat getting dry at the sight of you, his heartbeat beginning to pick up its pace as he felt the urge to come up and talk to you.

He gulped, standing in the middle of the aisle in complete shock as his mind tried to decipher that you were here. Alone. With him. Why were you here so early in the morning? Usually you would be asleep in bed until noon or until he would stop by at your house to wake you up. A frown appeared on his lips when he realised that he hasn’t actually stopped by at your house willingly in so long.

He always dropped you off in front of your porch but whenever your mother offered him to come in for lunch or dinner, he would often politely decline and make up some random excuse on the spot to prevent spending any more time with you. Jaemin realised the only time he actually came to your house was for your family’s monthly dinners or group projects.

‘Wow, I was that much of a jerk?’ he thought to himself bitterly, feeling guilt and regret ball up in his chest.

He turns his head up to look at you, his heartbeat picking up its pace when he saw how content and relaxed you look. He realised he never actually took the time to admire you, even in your most comfortable state. He should know, especially how the two of you have known each other since you were still toddlers.

‘Should I go up to her?’ he pondered.

‘It wouldn’t hurt to try to talk to her, right?’ he looked down at his watch, eyeing the time displayed on it before looking out the window, spotting Jeno scrolling through his phone right across the street from the store as he waited for him. ‘A small conversation wouldn’t hurt, right?’ he sighed before looking up back at your figure standing a few meters away from him.

He watched you walk to the ice cream bar without a care in the world, opening the lid silently as you scanned the cold machine. Biting his lip nervously, he picked a random water bottle from the aisle before slowly coming up to you. Swallowing down his nerves, he cleared his throat before letting out a small “y/n?”

You turned, eyes widening in surprise at his unexpected figure standing before you. “Jaemin,” you didn’t even realise the words left your mouth until he shot you an endearing smile. “Hi, I didn’t expect to see you here,” you let out a puff of breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “Hey, what are you doing here so early on a Saturday?” Jaemin asked, putting his hands behind his back, his hand wrapping around his wrist as he leaned towards you slightly.

“I just wanted some snacks,” you replied in a quiet tone, your voice hoarse as if you had just woken up from your sleep. You gestured to the bag of chips in your arms, making Jaemin nod, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ in response. You bit your lip, “what about you?” you asked rather hesitantly.

You both knew the answer to this, considering how Jaemin always rants to you about the silly things he and Jeno would do every Saturday on their morning cycles together back when you were still on speaking terms. But you couldn’t take the awkward silence settling in between you if you didn’t try to keep the conversation going.

“I was just cycling with Jeno and ran out of water, ” Jaemin shrugged, standing up straight as he cocked his head at the direction of one of the windows, causing you to turn your head to see your friend standing not far from the store, standing beside two bicycles while fidgeting with his phone. “Oh, I guess you two are still going on your Saturday morning dates,” you chuckled, rubbing your left eye with one of your palms.

“You really need to stop calling them dates,” he frowned, jutting out his bottom lip slightly at your words. “I mean, I’m not exactly wrong, aren’t I?” you snickered, feeling your body ease up with how smooth the conversation was going, the awkward tension decreasing with every passing second as you scanned through the row of ice cream tubs and popsicles.

“I’m actually surprised to see you awake at this hour, you’re usually asleep until noon,” he commented, taking a step forward to look through the ice cream bar with you. “What are you talking about? I’ve always been awake at this hour, though,” you raised your brow at him, pulling out a raspberry flavored popsicle, inspecting it before putting it back down, running your hands through the plastic wrappers.

“Really? That’s a surprise,” Jaemin’s eyebrows shot up. Back when the two of you were still in good terms, Jaemin would often call you before 11 AM just in case you had something to do or somewhere to go to ever since you were 15. “Yeah, I figured I can just do a lot of things if I wake up earlier than planned,” you shrugged.

“Wow, getting up early at your own will? It’s good to hear that you’re using your time more productively,” Jaemin exclaimed with a smile of disbelief. You bit your lip, nodding in response. “I guess so,” you mumbled back with a small shrug. Truth be told, back when you were still devoted on pursuing Jaemin, you never woke up early despite being told off by your parents multiple times. You just wanted to wake up to the sound of his voice every morning to start your day off as happy as you can be.

At times like this, you wished that he didn’t stop giving you morning calls. Come to think of it, when did he stop calling you every morning? When did you grow used to his absence even when he was just right there in front of you?

Noticing how silent you got, Jaemin took it upon himself to change the topic, his eyes scanning the room before landing on a watermelon flavored popsicle. “Hey, remember when we used to eat these as a kid?” Jaemin asked with an enthusiastic smile, a hopeful glint sparkling in his eyes as he raised the popsicle up at you, hitting you with a wind of nostalgia.

“Oh yeah, you used to ask your mom to buy you the whole stock back then,” you chuckled, grabbing a popsicle of the same brand that was supposed to be Melon flavored. “This really brings me back,” you smiled, turning to Jaemin who gave you a boyish smile. Oh how the littlest things can bring back such unpleasant memories.

“Nana!” you exclaimed, waddling over to the football court once you saw Jaemin walk out of after school practice. As usual, you were waiting for Jaemin to get out of practice so he can drive the both of you home. And being the considerate person that you ironically are, you decided to buy popsicles from the market nearby your school for your friends (mainly Jaemin but you felt bad midway for not buying them so you came back and bought your friend some too).

Jaemin turned to you with a heavy sigh, wiping the sweat off of his hair with a damp towel as he and his friends watched you come up to them with a large plastic bag in your hands. “Hey guys,” you greeted with a small smile, earning small waves and hey’s in return. “So I bought some popsicles for you guys while you were in practice,” you opened the plastic bag in front of them, watching as their exhausted expression morphed into an excited one in an instant.

“Dude, you really didn’t have to,” Jeno said as he watched Haechan, Chenle and Jisung dig their hands into the bag you were holding. “Don’t tell her that! If you say that she won’t buy us food again next time,” Haechan hissed, smacking his friend on the arm as he handed Jeno a popsicle of his own. “Haechan!” Jaemin barked, giving the older boy a death glare.

“He’s not wrong though, ‘Nana’,” Chenle snickered, mocking the sweet tone you used when calling out his name, patting the boy’s back to ease him up. “I don’t mind being broke. My wallet loves treating you guys,” you waved it off with a soft laugh, waving your bag in front of Jaemin, gesturing for him to grab one of the two remaining popsicles left in the plastic bag.

Jaemin gave you a pointed look, raising his brow as if he wanted to tell you off. Giving him an innocent smile you waved the bag in front of him. “Come on, it’s gonna melt, you know.” Jaemin’s eyes were filled with exhaustion and the slightest bit of annoyance, but nonetheless, it never failed to send small needles into your heart.

“You really should stop wasting your time and money on these things,” Jaemin sighed, shoving his hand in the bag and pulling out a watermelon flavored popsicle. “I like hurting my wallet. Plus, you guys looked like you needed something refreshing. I’m just doing you guys a favor,” you giggled, pulling out the last popsicle in the bag and throwing the bag in a nearby trash can.

“Bless your kind soul, y/n,” Jisung groaned, putting his hands together as if he was praying. “She’s a keeper, Jaemin. You sure you ain’t gonna drop the whole ‘I hate soulmates’ bull crap?” Haechan asked, nudging Jaemin’s sides as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively with a bite of his popsicle. “Coming from the guy who bites his popsicles, I think you should keep your opinions to yourself,” Jaemin snapped back, ripping the wrapper open with an annoyed roll of his eyes.

You kissed your teeth, feeling your heart ache in your chest at his cold tone. Shaking the disappointment out of your head, you gave them a lighthearted laugh, waving it off before tearing off the wrapper of your own popsicle. “Leave him alone, he’s going to change his mind sooner or later,” you mused, earning a soft scoff from Jaemin beside you.

“How endearing. Can’t wait to rub it in your face when that happens, Jaemin,” Chenle grinned, giggling at how the older boy’s frown grew deeper with every word. “Y/n, let’s just go home,” Jaemin sighed, tightening his grip on the saddle of his bag as he attempts to suppress his annoyance. “See you guys tomorrow,” Jaemin turned away from you and his friends, waving at them.

“Wait for me!” you exclaimed, pulling the strap of your bag closer to you as you ran after him.

“Look they’re even having the same flavored popsicle. Isn’t that cute? Couple goals,” Haechan snickered, pointing at how the two of you were having the same watermelon flavored popsicles. You looked down at the icy dessert in your hand, you didn’t even realise that you had the same flavor as him. You couldn’t help but let out a small ‘oh’ in response.

“Hey look Jaemin, we actually-”

You looked up and paused midway from finishing your sentence when you saw Jaemin walk towards the trash can with his melting popsicle (which he barely touched) and dumped it in with no hesitation. His expression is stone cold and void of emotion. “Y/n, let’s just go,” you could hear the way he gritted his teeth through his words, causing your heart to drop to your stomach. Your friends didn’t dare to comment anything else about you and Jaemin.

For the way you were trailing after him like a kicked puppy had caused them to wish that they actually kept their mouths shut.

“Y/n?”

“Oh, yeah?” you snapped out of your thoughts with a small hum, turning to look at Jaemin who was giving you a concerned expression. “Are you okay?” he asked rather hesitantly, noticing how the comforting glint in your eyes vanished the moment you snapped out of your thoughts and averted your gaze back onto his face. You opened your mouth to say something but quickly closed it when you felt your mouth getting dry.

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” you nodded, averting your eyes down at the ice cream bar, dropping the popsicle back into the machine and closing it. “I’m going to go now. My mom’s going to start wondering what’s taking me so long,” you lied, avoiding eye contact as you gave him a small smile. “I’ll see you at school, Jaemin,” you dart your eyes to his for a brief second before looking away and walking hastily to the cashier.

Jaemin watched you disappear around the aisle with a disappointed expression on his face, a lonely feeling balling up inside him when he realised you must’ve remembered something he did in the past to make you go so abruptly. He missed you. So much. So damn much.

He longs to talk to you again. He longs to spend more time with you without having any awkward tension like the old days. He wants to talk to you about his favorite video games and hear you rant about the shitty things a certain character did in the movie you recently watched. But he couldn’t.

And now he finally understands how you felt throughout all these years. And the only thing he could do was to keep going, he knew that if he stopped, he didn’t know what else to do with himself.

Jaemin was getting tired. Your high school graduation was less than 7 months away and so far, he has not made any progress in getting closer to you. Unless you count the awkward small talks the two of you had made the past few weeks, but asides from that, there wasn’t any improvement in your relationship it was almost laughable.

He didn’t know how you managed to be so patient with him when he was going crazy with every single day, but yet again, the thought of it made you appear even more admirable. He found himself longing for your presence even more. Hell, he even missed the little things you do when you’re around him.

The way your smile glowed up the entire room whenever you see him, the way your voice was filled with adoration whenever you call out his name, the way you would come up to him with arms wide for a big hug (even though he had never reciprocated your affections back then) whenever he was in the room.

He missed that. And his heart ached at the fact that he took your affections and kindness for granted. All he wanted to do was to talk things out. And he was going to talk it out whether you want to or not. You needed closure. You both knew that. And he was done avoiding it.

You were in the library doing your assignments, your brows furrowed in concentration, your tongue sticking out slightly at the left corner of your lips, your head leaning to the side slightly. Jaemin almost felt guilty for planning on disturbing you while you were in your protective little bubble, but there was something drawing him to you with every passing second.

Taking a deep breath, he eased up his muscles before gathering his courage to finally walk up to you. The atmosphere getting heavy with every step he took, and it felt like gravity was pulling him down as his his anxiety spiked up with every ‘tick tock’ the wall clock makes. Suppressing the urge to gulp down.

“Hey.”

You froze, your hand pausing from writing as you slowly looked up at him, internally wishing that it wasn’t who you think it was. “Hi,” you breathed out, your eyes fixating on each others as you recognize the familiar sad glint in his eyes. You knew that whatever he was going to do wasn’t going to be good, not with that hopeless look in his eyes.

“Can we talk now, please? About us?” he bit his lip, his voice going quiet despite the fact that you were the only ones in the library at that moment. There was a pregnant pause between you as you took in his words, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to come up with a reason to leave. But alas, the half written paper on the table between you and Jaemin was enough for you to realise that there was no escaping in this.

You didn’t know what else to say other than the small “now?” you squeaked out. Jaemin gave you a determined (but also adorable) nod, gripping the saddle of his bag tighter against him. “I’m done avoiding the topic. We kept avoiding this talk for the longest time, so let’s just talk this out casually,” he took in a deep breath nervously, watching your expression closely.

You looked down at your paper, biting your lip before kissing your teeth, flipping the pen in your hold so you can click the tip to distract your nerves. “Why do we need to talk about it though?” you muttered under your breath, feeling his eyes boring holes into your skull. His pupils dilate at this. “Y/n, we can’t keep pulling and pushing each other away. We’re graduating soon, we need to talk about it eventually,” Jaemin sighed.

He felt his heartbeat increase with every word that spilled from his mouth. He was getting all worked up as he watched your expression grew dim at the mention of talking about you. Why were you so eager to avoid the topic at all costs? Why won’t you try to give him a chance? Why won’t you give this a chance? Why don’t you want to try to fix this? Jaemin was confused. Confused with his feelings and confused about your situation.

“What if I don’t want to talk about it?” you tightened your grip on your pen, your eyes gazing down at the carpet floor. “I really don’t want to talk about this, Jaemin,” you closed your eyes for a small month, taking in a shuddering breath as you sense the atmosphere getting thicker between you. “But I do. Please, I just want to talk about what’s going to happen to us,” Jaemin bit his lip, his eyes desperate for yours to look back up.

“Jaemin. I’m telling you in the friendliest way possible, I really don’t want to talk about this. Please respect that,” you sucked in your lips nervously, tapping your pen against the paper hastily. Jaemin was starting to get frustrated, “what’s the harm in talking like two civilized human beings?” he unintentionally snapped at you, his sharp tone causing your eyes to shot up at his face in surprise.

You furrowed your brows at how he’s getting so riled up about something this simple. But then again, how do you explain to your soulmate that you don’t want to try and fight for a relationship that never existed in the first place? Can he really blame you for being cautious? Can he really blame you for giving up on the two of you this time?

“Can’t you just respect the fact that I don’t want to talk about it?” you retorted in a tone of disbelief, sitting up straight when you realise that Jaemin was getting angry for no absolute reason. “Well you didn’t respect the fact that I wasn’t into you either back then and look how that turned out!” he snapped back, words spilling out of his mouth as his heart raced against his chest.

“Y/n, I didn-”

“Fine. You wanted to talk right, so let’s talk,” you leaned back against your chair, letting out a defeated sigh as you rubbed your temples in distress. Jaemin kissed his teeth, his eyes glancing at your exhausted figure that mirrored his own. He took a deep exhale before pulling the chair right across yours so he can sit down in front of you.

He licked his lips nervously, knowing full well that you were silently gesturing him to go first with the exhausted gaze you were giving him. Taking another deep exhale, he poked the insides of his cheek with his tongue as he tried to decipher what to say. He muttered an almost in audible ‘fuck it’ when he decided that he was just going to say whatever came to heart.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes twitched in slight interest, your pupils looking up at his nervous figure. His eyes staring deep into yours, exhaustion and sadness glossing over his pupils. “I’m so sorry for everything. The music box. The whole talking shit behind your back, embarrassing you in front of our friends and family whenever you tried to give me affection, the sudden kiss at the party, making you uncomfortable, everything. I’m truly, truly sorry for everything,” he took in a deep breath.

“I-I don’t even know where to begin with this so I’m just going to say whatever comes to mind,” Jaemin clenched his fists in an attempt to calm his racing heart, taking a deep breath before letting it out and giving you a serious expression.

“At the party, on your birthday when I found out we were soulmates. I suddenly felt like I was forced to like or love you because we had matching tattoos. I didn’t want that kind of pressure on me, and it wasn’t easy when our parents constantly nagged us about it,” he confessed, pulling on the cuffs of his black jacket as he looked down at his hands wordlessly.

“But no one was telling you to love me now, Jaemin. You should’ve just taken this chance to enjoy my absence, I was a nuisance to you,” you mumbled out without hesitation, your cold tone sending small needles into his heart. “But can you blame me if I already have? Whoever created us made this whole soulmate system so that we can love each other, I realise that now,” he bit his lip nervously.

You stared at him for a small moment, your eyes meeting as Jaemin tried to decipher what you were thinking behind your unreadable expression. “You don’t really love me Jaemin,” you stated with a heavy sigh, leaning your cheek against your knuckles, your elbow propped up on the table. “Don’t give me that hope, Jaemin. You don’t like me like that, you just think you do, you don-”

“You can’t just assume my feelings like that, y/n,” he cut you off, using the same monotonous tone you were using against him. He lifted his hand so that it was laying on the table his heart racing at the small distance your hands had when he did so. “You’re one to talk,” you mumbled under your breath, letting out a small huff afterwards.

“Look, I was hurting a lot back then. Now that I’m willing to accept the fact that you’ll never like me back the same way I liked you, you came up to me and tell me you ‘like’ me,” you raise up two fingers as quotation marks, a sad frown stretching across your face at the mention of him loving you. “After what? Two years? Two years of treating me like garbage?”

“I was selfish,” Jaemin admitted. “I still am, I admit it. But you were selfish too back then! You wanted this so bad and for so long, why won’t you just take the chance so we can put this all behind us and start over now that I’m willing to give this-to give us a try?” he pointed at the two of you to emphasize on his words, a dull ache beginning to appear in his left wrist.

“Don’t you get it? I’m tired, Jaemin. I’m so tired of getting hurt all the time. I’m just so damn tired. Do you really expect me to forgive you for all the things you did just because I finally did what you ask and step out of your life?” you snapped, straightening your posture.

“I didn’t know you were hurting. Hell, I didn’t even know you felt that way. You could’ve just told me and then maybe we could’ve figured something out,” Jaemin rambled on, running his hands through his hair in distress. “Really Jaemin? Really? Would we actually ‘figure something out’?” you huffed incredulously, rubbing your forehead as you began to feel your sadness slowly morph into anger.

“I don’t know if you can recall but back at the dinner party with our family. I don’t think you bat an eye when I was on the verge of sobbing my eyes out in front of you. Hell, you didn’t even talk to me for weeks afterwards!” you exclaimed, clenching your fists on the table, feeling your heart ache in your chest at the sour thought. And the fact that the look Jaemin was giving you was fairly similar to the cold expression he gave you that night wasn’t helping either.

“I was just annoyed. We both needed time to sort out our thoughts, you know. I didn’t mean for things to get this far and fucked up!” Jaemin shot back defensively, raising his hands up to emphasize on his words. “Well apparently you didn’t mean a lot of things but it happened anyway, so what am I supposed to do, Jaemin?” you couldn’t help but raise your voice slightly out of frustration, eyes glaring daggers at him.

“Give me a chance to start over? Give me a second chance? I don’t know if you noticed but the tables have turned. I get it, I fucking get it now. I know how you feel whenever I treat you like shit and ignore you, I really do. I just want a second chance.”

This discussion was just going worse than Jaemin had thought. You two were just plain out getting your pain and frustrations out, thus heating up this argument even more. Thank god the librarian was nowhere to be seen, you both know full well if they caught you yelling at each other, you two would definitely be kicked out in an instant.

“I’m not having this conversation anymore, Jaemin,” you groaned, rubbing your face against your hands, groaning into them before standing up abruptly and picking up your stuff hastily. “Leave me alone, Jaemin. Please. I just want some time to myself. Time to think about how we ended up like this,” you sighed, avoiding his eyes as you shoved your paper in your bag carelessly.

“No, you give up on me back then. Now I’m not giving up on you,” Jaemin shook his head in determination, standing up as well to stop you and keep you from leaving so you two can talk more. Jaemin was then taken aback when his desperate eyes met your own cold ones, anger glossed over your pupils as you let out a small grunt.

“Well I gave up now, didn’t I? I think you should, too,” you hissed back, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you tugged your sweater down and smacked the eraser shavings from your drawing session earlier. “Then can you stop it?” he asked, his voice wavering. “Can you just stop looking at me as if you don’t like me anymore?” he pleaded, his voice becoming small. So small, it was almost inaudible.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” you frowned, feeling a lump gather in your throat, your eyes watering as you walk past a hopeless Jaemin.

“You hurt me so much. I’m starting to et why you hated this whole soulmate system.”

OH DEAR GOD THIS WAS JUST P A I N F U L TO WRITE. THIS TOOK ME TWO WHOLE WEEKS PLS.

anyways, here’s something to celebrate my official return to this damn blog. I almost gave up on this blog but my fear of letting people down always got the best of me so enjoy!

T A G L I S T : @candiednickles @itlittlefangirl @cherrym4rk @gotoartistprofile @d-nghyck @kingjvngins @aconeptun @chaeshii @lixseu @morks-watermelon @12am-musings @cherrystay @lowkeyviv @btm-taeyong @gothmingguk @luvlyjaemin @cowward @smileyyuta @cakelyn @uncovermenow666 @comically-sleep-deprived @wtfhaechan @xcherrybbyx @wishing–butterfly @wordsgodeep @astroboy-lele @sweetmoonlight9 @chwenchew @stuckwithhyuck @yunoelea @angelrenjunie @dae-chan @jenseoull @marklexleaf @yasmini24 @cloudreads @sptegami @mango-bear @dumplingley @bereavedswallow @etherealbyeol @247byun

Tag list is o p e n e d !

Do please inform me if you changed your username. Send me an ask, dm me or comment if you wanted to be added to the tag list!

#NCT-WRITERS #neowritingsnet #neo-constellations #neoculturecafe #jaemin x reader #jaemin angst #nct dream jaemin x reader #na jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #nct jaemin x reader #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct x you #nct dream x you #nct angst #nct u x reader #nct 127 x reader

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misslilli · 3 years

Text

It'll get better soon guys, don't worry 🤗

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 24 - It Takes A Village

[ Felix ]

It’s close to December and my favorite holiday is coming up fast, the lights are already up all around town and in school we make paper snowmen and sing Christmas songs. It’s supposed to be the most cheerful time of the year, but people in my life are sad, which in turn also puts a damper on my Christmas spirit.

Dad is not doing very well, he’s working all the time and doesn’t say much, he just goes through the motions of our day. One day, he just forgets to pick me up from school because he has worked through the night and fell asleep at the dining room table during the day.

Principal Skinner can’t reach him or my mom, who is in Europe right now, so he calls my other emergency contact, my grandma. I don’t know what exactly he tells her, but she’s coming all the way from Connecticut and the Principal will drive me home to check on my dad.

I’m excited that grandma’s coming, she’s really awesome! She’s straightforward and very, very strict and doesn’t like to cuddle, much, but her no-nonsense way of running a household may be exactly what we need right now. And she also makes a mean lasagna!

When we get to the house, dad is beside himself, apologizing to us over and over again for falling asleep and he looks a little relieved when Principal Skinner tells him that grandma is coming over to help.

I launch myself at her - I’m permitted exactly two hugs, one hello and one goodbye - when she walks through the door and immediately try to get her to make lasagna for dinner. She sends me up to my room to play for a bit, while she talks to dad and cleans up the mess in the kitchen. Afterwards, she really makes lasagna, yes!

——————

[ Teena ]

When I got the call from Principal Skinner, I was very worried about what I’d find when I got to the house, I’ve been called to pick up the pieces only once before.

It was after Diana left Fox and Felix and what I found then was a disoriented and confused three-year old who kept asking for his mom and a devastated dad and husband, unable to care for his child in his own heartbreak.

Thankfully, it’s not that bad this time, but I can tell that something has happened. Fox has been avoiding my calls for weeks now, only having Felix talk to me over the phone. I know that Sam knows something, but she wouldn’t tell me no matter how hard I pressed.

So the first thing I do when I get to the boys’s house is send Felix off to his room and sit down my son onto the couch to talk.

“Tell me what happened, Fox.”

And he goes on to me the whole story, from the first day of school where he met a woman that had upended both of their lives, to the birthday party - Sam has actually told me about that one, I thought it was a really sweet story - and the Halloween fair right up until the Basketball fiasco and the last time he saw her, where she asked him to give her some space until she has figured some things out.

“What do I do now mom? I hate myself for scaring her off like that and I can’t stop the tailspin of thinking I’m not good enough for her anyway, with that broken mess that’s our family…”

“I’ll tell you what to do now. You give her space like she asked you to and you get your act together in the meantime. Felix needs you to take care of him, it won’t do to wallow in self-pity. And ask yourself this: How can you expect someone to love you if you don’t love yourself? Go see Connie and fix your self-worth issues because you’re a good man and you absolutely deserve someone who makes you happy.”

“Thanks mom, for everything. I’ve already scheduled extra therapy lessons with Connie. You know what makes this whole thing even harder? I have to see her every damn day at school when I pick up Felix.”

“I’ll pick him up from now on. You focus on yourself, without distractions.” Maybe I’ll even get to meet her, I’m fairly curious about this Rainbow Woman myself.

—————

[ Felix ]

At recess in school, everyone’s on their best behavior, holding their collective breaths because Miss Scully is in a bad mood today. Actually, she’s been irritable for the past two weeks, with a very short fuse and absolutely no tolerance for disobedience.

Since her classroom is right next to ours, we can sometimes hear her yell at her kids for something or other and even our class flinches when it happens.

Right now, she’s over at the playground, leaning into two boys who have gotten into a fist-fight over a game of tag and I’m silently glad I’m sitting over here with Miss Anderson. I look up at my teacher, curious.

“Miss Anderson, why is Miss Scully so angry all the time?”

“I can’t tell you, Felix, I’m sorry.”

“Because you don’t know, or because you don’t want me to know?” When she changes the subject pointedly, I know it’s the second one. ‘Ugh, why don’t adults tell children anything, it’s driving me crazy! Dad won’t tell me anything and now this.’

Grandma picks me up again today and on our way to the car, we run into Miss Scully. 'Uh oh, I hope she doesn’t go off on grandma, I don’t think that will go over very well.’ My grandma can be scary sometimes, too!

“Hey Miss Scully, this is my grandma, she’s staying with us for a while now! Grandma, this is Miss Scully, she’s the fourth-grade teacher.”

——————

[ Teena ]

I’m happy to see that my son has raised Felix to be a polite child when he introduces the tiny red-head I’ve heard so much about.

“Grandma’s not actually my name, Felix. I’m Teena Mulder, it’s nice to meet you Miss Scully!” Holding out my hand, I try to seize her up.

Her handshake is firm and her posture is ram-rod-straight, all professional, but her eyes betray her poised exterior, because I can see flashes of sadness when she looks down at Felix. I can only guess that she’s not having an easy time with everything, herself.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Mulder. I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got an appointment to get to. I’ll see you tomorrow, Felix. Goodbye, Mrs. Mulder.”

With that, she’s off to get her bike and Felix breathes a sigh of relief.

“Whew, thank God, she didn’t get mad at you like she got mad at the two boys at recess today.”

I’m a bit puzzled by his odd statement, but on the car ride, he tells me all about the incident in great detail. I get the feeling that these stories are a staple in the boys’s days and I can begin to understand why my son would rather not hear Felix go on and on about what she did and what she said right now.

—————

[ DS ]

My therapist has told me that it has to get worse before it gets better, but this is getting ridiculous. I can’t sleep more than a few hours at night, which leaves me irritable in the morning and with an incredibly short fuse at school, going off on my kids for the littlest infractions.

They’re so terrified and confused, they end up making even more mistakes, which in turn sets me off even more - it’s a vicious circle that leaves me frustrated with myself and more times that I’d like to admit to, I’ve lost it in the teacher’s bathroom.

Meeting Mrs. Mulder today was unexpected and I tried hard to keep it together for a few minutes, but I can’t stand looking at Felix’s innocent face for a longer period of time, so I bolted right after the introductions.

I actually did have an appointment, with my therapist, and today she suggested I write down my feelings in a journal to get them off my chest and reflect on them.

During the night, I wake after only a few hours of sleep spent tossing and turning. Unable to fall back asleep for yet another night, I drag myself our of bed and downstairs, turning the TV in the living room, hoping it’ll lull me back to sleep.

“10 things I hate about you” is on and by the time Julia Stiles recites her poem, I’m bawling into a pillow. I remember the homework I’ve been given, so I grab a piece of paper and a pen and begin writing.

“Miss Scully’s list of 10 things I hate about you”

The words of the title swim before my eyes as I scribble my feelings onto the patient paper. The poem I write is slightly different from the one in the movie, but writing it all out really does help.

I fold the paper up carefully and toss it in the trash before heading back up to bed.

#xf #the x files #xf fanfic #msr #felix felicis

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haikyuuhoo · 3 years

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Contemporaneous - Chapter 1

Pairing: Atsumu x F!Reader

Summary: In which you are so incredibly lucky to exist at the same time as Atsumu Miya. Or, perhaps, it’s the exact opposite…

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: Swearing, inconsistent chronology (sorry I just liked it better that way), that’s about it so far

A/N: Okay, here’s ch. 1 finally! Mostly background, setting the stage, all that. Things will probably move quicker in upcoming chapters because I’m busy and have a hard time thinking of filler plot lol. Enjoy, please let me know what you think!

Prologue | Chapter 2

All of your best memories were with the twins.

Not like that was a hard thing to accomplish—pretty much all of your memories were with the twins.

The good memories, the bad memories, and all the ones in between. They were the biggest constant in your life and you felt so lucky to have them.

Sometimes you got emotional about it, and they teased you for it, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“H-Hey, why are ya crying?” Atsumu had asked one time at fifteen when the three of you sat outside of the 24-hour convenience store near your house at 2 in the morning, each of you holding your own popsicles you’d snuck out to get.

“I just love you guys so much,” you said with a sniffle, wiping your nose on the cuff of your sleeve.

Osamu grimaced, looking down at you. “Y-Ya don’t have to get all emotional about it. We’re kind of stuck with ya.”

You frowned, giving him a light punch in the shoulder. “Just say you love me too, dummy,” you huffed.

His eyebrows knitted together. “We love you,” he sighed before wrapping an arm around you to give you a side-hug.

Atsumu wrapped his arm around you as well and gave you a grin. “Yeah, but please don’t cry anymore. It’s kinda embarrassing,” he laughed.

“Oh, shut up,” you whined, though you felt comfort flood through you at the feeling of being sandwiched between your two best friends. “You know I get sentimental when I’m tired.”

“Doesn’t make it any less embarrassing,” Osamu mumbled, but a smile played on his lips.

You hummed and closed your eyes for a moment. “Well get used to it, you’re not getting rid of me.”

The twins were like your personal bodyguards. If someone messed with you, they messed with the Miya twins—and no one wanted to mess with the Miya twins. You first learned that when you were nine years old.

The air left your lungs, palms and knees scraping against the ground as you were pushed from the swing you’d been sitting on.

“You’re so lame!” one kid teased from behind you, shrill voice barely making its way to your ears as tears began to prick in your eyes.

“Yeah, where are your dumb friends? They must not like you if they aren’t even playing with you!” another said as the three kids who were picking on you moved to stand in front of where you still remained on your hands and knees, head hung in an attempt to hide the way you were crying.

Atsumu and Osamu had been punished for fighting during in class and the teacher made them stay inside for the first ten minutes of recess. You told them you’d wait for them by the swings; you didn’t really hang out with anyone else anyway. This group of kids didn’t like that though, telling you that the swings were their hangout spot during recess. You told them you’d leave after a couple minutes—you didn’t really want to just stand around and wait for the twins. What was the harm in swinging for a bit?

The harm was too great for the kids currently bullying you, apparently, and they decided to shove you off of the swings.

Your hands and knees burned from the scrapes you’d gotten, and you pushed your palms against your legs to try to make it stop stinging.

“Aww, are you crying?” the third kid laughed, and you looked up at them, face wet with tears.

“Oh my god, she is crying!”

A chorus of laughter sounded in front of you, making you cry even harder. Your face grew hot with embarrassment, tears leaving silvery streaks on your skin. And then suddenly, the figures of the three kids in front of you were shadowed as someone approached them from behind.

Two someones, in fact.

“Leave her alone,” Atsumu said, his voice causing a terror to run through the bullies in a way you didn’t think was possible for a nine-year-old.

The twins had a few bandages decorating their arms and faces, evidence of all the spats they got into with each other. But even after being kept in from recess they were already willing to fight again—just not with each other this time.

“You’re really pathetic,” Osamu continued, arms crossed over his chest as he gave the terrified kids an apathetic look.

“Yeah, get lost before I punch yer stupid face.” Atsumu stuck his tongue out, and somehow, the intimidation worked.

The bullies scurried off and Osamu helped pull you to your feet. “I’ll take ya to the nurse,” he offered, looking at the scrapes on your hands.

“And I’ll go beat them up,” Atsumu said, eyes still angry as he watched the kids run to the other side of the playground.

“No, it’s okay,” you sniffled, reaching up to wipe your eyes.

“Yeah, you’ll just get in trouble again, dummy,” Osamu reasoned with his twin.

Atsumu sighed and turned to you, shoulders slumping when he really took a good look at you. “’M sorry we weren’t here,” he said as the two of them started walking you back to the building so you could get your cuts cleaned up.

“‘S okay,” you said again.

“No it’s not! They’re dumb for picking on ya,” Atsumu argued. He let out an annoyed grunt when the three of you got inside. “Wish they’d get kept in from recess for being idiots…”

Being a family friend also meant that you got along with the twins’ parents too—especially their mom. She treated you as if you were her own daughter, and sometimes she joked that she wished you were because the twins were so hard to handle.

You were so close with them that sometimes you would go over to their house even when you knew the twins were at volleyball practice.

When you were twelve, she’d decided you were probably old enough to watch one of the shows she enjoyed, and so you started going over to their house after school to watch TV dramas with their mom while you waited for them to come home from practice.

“Y/N,” Atsumu whined one day as soon as he saw the two of you. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off and he was already complaining. This was the fourth day in a row they came home to find you watching television with their mom. “What’re ya doing? Yer supposed to be our friend!”

“Shut up,” Osamu mumbled, taking his shoes off and removing his jacket. “You’re so embarrassing.”

Atsumu frowned, eyes going wide as if he was pleading with you to come hang out with them instead.

“‘Tsumu, you just got home. We’re almost done with this episode, and then I’ll come hang out!” you reasoned with him.

He huffed, finally reaching down to take off his shoes. “Sometimes I feel like ya like her more than me,” he grumbled, earning him a smack on the back of his head from his brother.

“Keep up the attitude and she will start liking Mom more,” Osamu hissed.

You were always at their games. And when I say always, I mean always. You were the loudest member of the cheering section, and there were countless times when you didn’t even have the voice left to congratulate them on their victories.

One thing you never did, though, was boo them. They were your best friends—and you were close with the rest of the team too—so you never had the heart to boo them when they messed up.

Atsumu confronted you about it once when you were seventeen—they hadn’t even lost—after he’d had a tough game.

“Y/N,” he said, face stuck in a frown as he approached you.

You gave him a grin, wrapping your arms around him as you pulled him into a hug. “Congrats, ‘Tsumu!”

“Don’t congratulate me,” he hissed, stiffening in your hold.

You frowned and pulled away from him. “Why not? You won.”

“Because I sucked. You should have booed me.”

You rolled your eyes, waving a hand dismissively. “You’re so dramatic. Everyone messes up, ‘Tsumu. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It was close! I could have cost us the match!” he argued.

Now it was your turn to frown at him. “So you botched a few serves, it’s not a big deal. Your sets were great. Besides, I’m not gonna boo my own team, Atsumu—” He grimaced at the sound of his full name. “—and I’m most certainly not going to boo you.”

“Losers don’t need applause.”

You scoffed. “You aren’t a loser! I swear sometimes you’re so hard on yourself for no reason. People have bad games. I’m not going to ridicule you for it.”

“You should!”

Your jaw clenched. You hated when he did this to himself.

“I deserve ta be booed, ta be yelled at, ta be told what a piece of trash I am because I almost screwed this up for us!”

“It’s not going to make you better, you dumbass!” you finally shouted, shoving his chest.

Atsumu stumbled backwards a few steps, heartrate increasing. He couldn’t tell whether it was from the adrenaline of the game, his disappointment in himself, or your actions. You’d never pushed him like that. Sure, you bickered and things of that nature, but this time you seemed genuinely angry.

“You’re one of the hardest working people I know and seeing you put yourself down like that when all you had was one bad set makes me want to punch you in the face!” Your heart was pounding, the sound deafening you as your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “I don’t give a shit about those people in the stands, they don’t really care about you. I’m your best friend! I’m not supposed to beat you down, I’m supposed to pick you back up!”

His mouth opened and closed a few times, words getting caught in his throat as he tried to gather his thoughts.

You pushed past him with a scowl. “I’m gonna go congratulate ‘Samu. Don’t talk to me until you’ve got your shit together.”

Osamu had been standing with Aran, Suna, and Kita by the entrance to the gym. They’d been chatting, but it had gotten cut short in favor of watching your interaction with the setter.

Osamu was in shock. He’d never seen you like that, which was saying something considering how long he’d known you, and it was kind of refreshing to see his brother get put in his place like that.

“That was kinda hot,” Suna said absentmindedly, eyebrows raised in amusement.

The gray-haired twin turned to glare at his friend. “Say that again and I’ll punch you.”

“Osamu,” Kita scolded.

“Sorry, Kita-san.”

Of course, with years and years of memories and friendship with the twins, you couldn’t help but think it was more than luck that brought you together. And even though you believed the three of you were fated to be together, as you got older something just felt different.

The summer before you started high school you had started to think that maybe you were fated to be more than just friends with Atsumu when feelings for him started to blossom. You tried to ignore them, far too shy and inexperienced in the ‘liking boys’ department to know how to deal with this new sensation.

You tried not to let it change your friendship with him, but there were times when you’d feel your face grow hot or your stomach flutter when you were around him.

At first, you didn’t like this feeling at all.

The twins had always been your comfort—your safe space. And now you were nervous to even be around Atsumu. But at the same time, all you wanted to do was be around him.

You hated it.

You hated the way you immediately perked up at the sound of them coming home when you should have been watching TV with their mom, now too distracted to even pay attention to the end of the show.

You hated the way you wanted to comfort Atsumu in a way that was so much more than friendly when he was beating himself up.

And you loathed the way you felt jealousy bubble in your veins at the thought of Atsumu liking someone else.

So you did your best to push the feelings away when you were around them.

But when you were alone, they all tumbled out, and you decided to take up journaling as an attempt to deal with the feelings. You felt embarrassed, as a teenage girl does, to have a journal filled with all of these thoughts, so whenever you were finished writing you hid it in your sock drawer lest one of the twins find it and tease you about it for weeks.

When you started high school and the twins joined the volleyball team, they were instant phenoms. And in turn, they garnered a lot of attention—especially from girls.

It upset you, if you were going to be honest with yourself. Not only because you couldn’t really hang out with your friends in the halls or during lunch without being interrupted by their gang of fan girls, but also because you despised the girls who flung themselves at Atsumu. It killed you to see them batting their long eyelashes and talking to your best friends with their cute voices, all while you sat to the side like some kind of unwanted piece of stale bread. And it especially killed you when Atsumu started returning their affections.

It scared you. It all scared you. The feelings, the girls, high school—you were terrified. You didn’t want to ruin things between the two—three—of you with your feelings, but the girls made you so insecure. So instead, you wrote in your journal.

You wrote down all of your feelings for three years.

You didn’t speak a word of them to anyone, no less the twins.

And there was a page you came back to almost every day, even though you had written it during your first year:

The odds of existing are slim,

so the odds of you and I existing at the same time

must be next to impossible,

and I think that’s beautiful.

Maybe the universe does work in my favor after all

because I got the chance to get to know you.

You stared at the page, not even realizing tears were forming in your eyes until one fell and landed on your hand that pressed down on the page. It was a habit to hold it open, but it wasn’t even necessary anymore—you’d opened your journal to this page enough that it stayed open on its own.

When you’d written it, it was a happy thought. But now, three years later, it didn’t feel so happy. Atsumu was getting busier and busier with volleyball, and that meant he only got better, and when he got better his fanbase grew.

You were starting to feel like a second choice.

Scratch that, you were starting to feel like a tenth, twentieth, fiftieth choice.

You craved the attention he gave those girls. You wanted him to grin at you like that. You wanted to be more than just his best friend.

But you felt like you were running out of time.

It was ironic, considering you believed the universe brought the three of you together with the intention of you being side by side forever.

Maybe, after all this time believing it, you were finally starting to realize that you were wrong.

#atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #atsumu #atsumu x reader angst #angst #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyuu angst #miya atsumu x reader #my writing

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waezi2 · 3 years

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Re-reading Yu-Gi-Oh (part 1)

So... I bitch a lot about Yu-Gi-Oh. When I don’t complain about it online and accuse it of scamming kid me, I ridicule the story and the many holes in the game rules.

But I actually used to love this manga with a burning passion. I bought it because I was fixated with the cards, but instead I got traumatized. In an awesome way.

So I decided to re-read the manga about the possibly best known TCG game in the world and see how it started, how it evolved, and if the story still holds up.

So, I’m reading chapter 1, and we have to talk about the art.

The art style at the beginning was chunky and sometimes downright awkward. But it was still very enjoyable. The characters were very expressive and the tone of the style could swing quickly from wacky and rubberhose like to eerie and brooding depending on the situation. It makes you forgive odd-looking legs and hands that becomes massive. It is clear that it is someone’s first project.

So, this is Yugi. Possibly the cutest and meekest punk kid who ever lived. Yugi is not an outdoor person, so he spends most of his recesses inside the classroom. He brings a ton of games to school, hoping that someone might wanna play with him, but all of his classmates prefer to go outside and do stuff like basketball. And being a short teenager who practically looks like a little boy means he is not a desirable team mate in any ball game.

This is totally just a theory, but I think Yugi’s signature punk hairstyle is his way of trying to look a bit more edgy to try do something about his cute appearance.

... Yeah, it’s not working. He still looks like a fricking Gummibear.

As Yugi is minding his own business, we meet two familiar faces.

... their names are actually Jounouchi and and Honda, but most people know them by their American names, so I will just refer to them as Joey and Tristan.

It’s so odd to see their old designs. Especially Joey since his hair is not as big and square like as it is today. And what the fuck is up with Tristan’s face?!

Anyways, while Yugi decides to play with the most valuable game in his collection, Joey and Tristan decides to mess with him. They make an interesting bully duo where Tristan is more loud and is clearly having more fun bothering Yugi who is too short to put up a fight while Joey seems more stoic and is almost annoyed by Yugi for being a pushover. He even tells Yugi to be a man about it and at least try and take the game back from him by force. So while Tristian just enjoys picking on Yugi for the heck of it, Joey seems to sincerely dislike Yugi.

Luckily, Yugi doesn’t have trouble with bullies as such since he is friends with Tea who is so tough that she actually intimidate Joey and Tristan with sheer attitude. That’s actually impressive.

... A shame she is most of the time just the damsel in distress.

Tea is the only person in class who hangs out with Yugi since they have been friends since kindergarten. And she doesn’t mind staying inside at all since a ton of the guys are jerks who only wanna play basketball with the girls since it gives them an opportunity to look up their skirts.

Yeah, there is a lot of that in this manga. Most of the males in this series are kinda horny. the humor often relies on it, which downright creepy at times.

Even Yugi finds basketball more appealing now that he knows about the skirt-looking.

Lewd panty-shot aside, I think it is a nice detail that Yugi is as pathetic as the rest of the dudes in school, he probably just doesn’t have the courage to try get a look. It makes him less of a pure hero.

Altight, let’s stop talking about Yugi being a closet creep:/

Yugi shows Tea what his greatest treasure is: A LITTERAL treasure.

Yep, this is the famous Millennium Puzzle, practically the mascot of the series. It’s an ancient puzzle found in an pyramid that Yugi got from his grandfather who runs a game store. The puzzle is extremely valuable, both because it is from ancient Egypt and it is made of gold.

... And Yugi brings it to school where Tristan and Joey pushes him around...

Yugi has been struggling with the puzzle for eight years despite being a game nerd. Even though it is a blow to his not that big ego, he keeps trying to solve it since the box says that if he will be granted a wish if he manage to solve the puzzle.

Meanwhile, Joey and Tristan makes the fatal mistake of talking about picking on Yugi while Ushio is close enough to hear it. He is the school’s hall monitor and rumor has it that he is downright psychotic and is feared by most of the students. Heck, some of the teachers are uncomfortable being near him.

And this guy has decided to become Yugi’s bodyguard, something poor Yugi doesn’t take serious when Ushio tells him that.

Joey and Tristan are unaware how screwed they are as they keep having their fun bothering Yugi without our hero knowing it. Joey managed to steal a piece from the puzzle box before Tea interrupted, and Joey decides to throw the piece in the school’s swimming pool so that the puzzle becomes worthless as it can no longer be solved. I gotta say, that is pretty twisted and surprisingly sneaky of a teen bully. It’s downright creepy.

Speaking of creepy...

This is Yugi’s grandfather Sugoroku. He runs the game shop that Yugi lives in and is a living encyclopedia when it comes to games of all sorts.

And he can’t just tell Tea that she has grown. He HAS to mention her breasts as well. Da fuck is up with all the sex talk and panty shots in this series?! Does Kazuki Takahashi(the author) have some sort of issues?!

Yugi’s grandfather notices that Yugi is STILL trying to solve the ancient puzzle and warns Yugi that the puzzle is supposedly cursed. That the archeologist and his team died mysteriously shortly after finding the puzzle and the last one to kick the bucket said something about a “shadow game” with his dying breath.

That however makes Yugi even more determent to solve the puzzle. If it really is magical then chances are that he will be granted a wish by completing the puzzle.

Personally, I would call the nearest museum and sell the dang thing before it could kill me with it’s insane cursed magic.

Speaking of insane, Yugi realizes that he should have taken Ushio serious when he said he would be his bodyguard.

Yep, the SOB has dragged Joey and Tristan behind the school building and kicked their asses through and through. Tristan is in so much pain that he is barely conscious and Joey is so pummeled that all he can do is watch as Yugi shows how surprisingly brave he is as he demands that Ushio leaves them alone, even refer to them as his friends and that they were just trying to make him a man.

Yeah, picking on someone because they are too timid and demanding that they fight you despite knowing that they hat violence is the right way to make someone a man. Hip hooray for toxic masculinity!

Yugi defending Joey and Tristan results in him getting a beating as well.

One of the interesting things about early Yu-Gi-Oh is the raw and ugly violence. We talking dirty violence where people get kneed in the chest and kicked while they lie down. Not just off-screen, we witness our heroes be pummeled, making the series a bit more gritty and frightening. And this series is not for those with a weak stomach.

Joey is stunned, partly because Yugi defends him, but way more of the short spiky-haired kid’s courage. But Yugi is anything but afraid. After all, he refused to fight Joey, but he still tried to get the puzzle back(not successfully, but he made an effort instead of just squirming).

After Ushio finished kicking poor Yugi’s ass, he tells him to bring him money as “payment” for his “bodyguard service.” And we talking 200000 yen, that’s a lot of dough.

Ushio even pulls a god damn knife(!), just to show how fucking crazy he is!

Yugi goes home to see if he has money enough to pay Ushio, but he only has 1656 yen. In frustration, Yugi decides to solve his unsolvable puzzle, just to think of something else than the brute with a knife who is waiting for him at school.

But what do you know? Yugi finally get the hang of it. He sees that some of the pieces just needs to be rotated differently and he finish it in a couple of minutes.

... Or he WOULD have. He finally sees that one of the pieces are missing, breaking his heart and making his awful day even worse.

But Grandpa has the last piece. He tells Yugi that one of his friends from school had found it and asked him to give it to Yugi. And that he was soaked despite it not raining.

As Yugi is happy about being able to finish the puzzle and returns to his room, his grandpa thinks about that the boy was Joey and that he asked him not to tell Yugi it was him that came with the puzzle piece. Joey also told him about Ushio blackmailing Yugi, so Grandpa secretly puts money in Yugi’s schoolbag so he won’t get in trouble.

And this is where it get’s freaky.

Yep, here it is. the iconic moment Yugi gets blessed by the puzzle so that he can turn into the split personality we refer to as Yami which is Japanese for “Dark”.

Yugi then calls Ushio and tells him to meet him outside school at midnight.

Ushio is surprised as he sees that Yugi is wearing some sort of costume and that he looks way more cocky than before.

Yugi tells Ushio that he has the money he demands, but he has twice the amount. Fricking 400000 yen!

But Yugi only “owes” 200000 to Ushio, so he suggest that they play about them in a dark and twisted game.

Yugi and Ushio take turns stabbing the stack of money placed on their hand. They have to stab hard enough to take more than one single bill. The winner is the guy with most yen bills.

As they play, Ushio seems to be winning... but when it is his turn, he can feel that his hand is way too eager to stab.

This is not just a weird-ass game. This is a “shadow game”, a game that shows your true nature. Ushio’s greed is now collected in his hand, and he so desperately want to win the game that he can’t control it. He realizes that if he stabs, he won’t be able to control his strength and he will penetrate his own hand. Ushio has to either A) give up and keep his hand or B) win the game with one hand less.

Ushio picks C.

Ushio tries to kill Yugi, but that was a mistake. The puzzle has made him super human and he leaps from the ground, evading the knife.

And cheating in a shadow game is a big no-go as the host of the game has authority to punish you.

Yami Yugi curses Ushio with “Illusion of Greed”, meaning he will be doomed to live in an imaginary world where he sees nothing but money everywhere.

Next morning, he is still outside the schoolyard like a drooling idiot who yells about all of his imaginary money.

Yugi has no memory of what happened but is glad he no longer has to be worried of Ushio who is a harmless nutcase. Not only that, he has finally finished his puzzle... and Joey offers him his friendship.

And that was the start of the horror manga turned card game commercial. It has a lot of charm, is very eerie and I think I prefer Yami Yugi’s first look that is more child like. making him look downright creepy.

This retrospective will continue ASAP.

Till then, I’m Waezi2, and thanks for wasting time with me.

#Yu-Gi-Oh #yugioh #yugi moto #joey wheeler #katsuya jonouchi #honda hitomi #anzu mazaki #tea gardner #tristan taylor #yami yugi #atem #manga

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rouiyan · 3 years

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𝘊𝘏𝘖𝘊𝘖𝘓𝘈𝘛𝘌 𝘔𝘐𝘓𝘒 [ 𝘩.𝘳𝘫 ]

synopsis: in a town where the seasons always seem to come a little early and the stars seem to shine a little brighter, two introverted idiots, only extroverted for each other, fall in love.

✧ huang renjun x (fem.) reader (mentioned jaemin x reader) ✧ childhood best friends to loverz

✧ genres : fluff, angst, slow burn ✧ word count : 8.4k ✧ disclaimers : swearing, as in h-e-double-hockey-sticks and probably a darn and a damn

✧ author’s note : another one of my fics that’s based off of an obscure item that i somehow managed to romanticize heavily. anyways, this one was written for the lovely hannah (@moonbeamsung) who said (in some network bio) that she wanted to live in a childhood friends to lovers au so here we are. (please also ignore how this is ever so slightly reminiscent of ‘this shirt of his’) enjoy!

huang renjun. he's tiny, impudent, childish, and not to mention, he's two months younger than you! huang renjun, the boy whose legs are currently kicking at your own from the side. huang renjun who, when you look to your right, has a lopsided smile on his face while he pretends to listen to your teacher drone on about the days of the week.

you lean in his direction, "would you quit it?" the boy looks over at you, nods, stops for a few minutes, then returns his incessant kicking. anger is lashing across your four-year-old countenance as the teacher calls out that recess is about to begin. you're the first out the door.

to say that you had no friends was an understatement. you had no friends and the other children liked to gang up on you. so when you take the opportunity, as the first one out the door, to run to the slides, the most vied for playspot on the whole playground, you're not surprised when renjun sneaks up behind you. well, you aren't surprised but rather unaware of his presence, until he pushes you, shoves you, absolutely rams you off the top. in the span of four seconds, you've pummeled down the slope at lightning speeds and instead of just hitting the ground, the sheer amount of force that was exerted from one four-year-old to another is astoundingly clear as you fly up and off the bottom ledge of the slide, soaring across the air before landing in a heap on your elbow. the wood chips of the playground floor that you've landed on dig harshly into your calves and one side of your face.

you don't let on nearly as much as it hurts when the teacher rushes over and asks if you're okay, if you needed to go to the nurses' office. you nod at her while biting back tears of stabbing pain and embarrassment and, to even more of your horror, she assigns renjun to accompany you to the nurses' office claiming that, "the two of you need to work it out anyways."

face pulled into a scowl and lips twisted into a frown, you limp next to the boy who, even now, finds it his job to ridicule you by purposefully walking fast, he knows you can't keep up. "y/n, you idiot," your mouth drops open at the i-word, "we're never going to make it in time at that pace!"

in reality, you're two steps ahead of him, "huang renjun, i am so going to tell on you."

as it so happens, the bell that rings at the end of the school day not only signals your leave, elbow patched up and held in a sling, but also the arrival of parents, specifically mrs. huang. your teacher beats you to it, guiding the woman by the elbow to the side, a small conversation of nods and creased brows. renjun is next to you, watching as well, but his fingers are fiddling with his sweater sleeves and his nose is scrunched in anticipation—no, dread.

"i didn't mean to," his voice is a bare pipsqueak, the two of you all know he tells tales far from the truth. rolling your eyes, you doubt refuting his claims will ever be as easy as now with his mom sneaking worried glances in your direction, scalding ones in his, "yeah sure, huang. tell that to my broken elbow."

"it's not broken, you're just exaggerating-"

his mom turns in his direction, walks, low heels thudding softly with each step. she's quite the nice woman, you were somewhat sure about that though her face was drawn stern at her young son. she crouches by his side and though you feel a slight outburst oncoming, she turns to you instead, smile taut but polite. "y/n, is it?"

you nod.

"i apologize, first on behalf of my son, and second for my own incompetence in raising him," she gives him an eyeful, turning back to you again, "how is your arm, sweetie?"

you smile up at her because, unlike the boy beside you, she is nice. you forgive her, sweetly, telling her your arm would heal soon and well. she leaves with a gentle pat on your head and a strong arm on her son's own elbow.

it's the next day when renjun is still sitting beside you, the usual scowl on his face replaced with a sheepish grin, snaggletooth and all, as he slides a carton of chocolate milk your way. "this is the one you like right? the brown one?"

you take it from the table and fold back the top, as you had learned, folding forward once again so an opening would slit. taking a sip, you give a hesitant nod somewhat in his direction. truth be told, chocolate milk was not your favorite, certainly the pretty pink strawberry one was, but a part of you didn't have the guts to stand up for yourself and say no, he was apologizing after all, not outright bullying you.

renjun doesn't kick your shins during class, he doesn't so much as utter a word to you, but when recess is called, and yet again you're out the door first, straight to the slides, the boy makes sure he's right behind you, and not for the purposes of shoving you off this time. he sticks around, and it stays that way.

you get your first pair of glasses at the ripe age of seven, only after you'd exclaimed to the class, rather sheepishly, that you couldn't answer the question because the board was too blurry for reasons you'd yet to comprehend. only at the optometrists office did you start to understand the purpose of glasses in the first place.

the next day in class, renjun, who was still your seatmate, pointed and poked fun. you laughed along with him because, well, because it was renjun that was making fun of you. the same reasoning could be applied when later in the day, when a terribly hubristic boy in your class, several inches taller than both you and renjun, had dared to punch you in the face for having such odd, turquoise frames, a pattern you never purchased again. to much of your surprise and even his own, renjun had punched the seven-year-old duche right back in the face. it was actually the chin from his angle, but hey, it's the thought that counts.

you let renjun choose the next pair of glasses you got, and though his preference was much differing to your own, you wore it for the next year and a half until your eyesight worsened once again.

renjun steals at your food, and gets his hand smacked by the teacher, so you pass him the carrots, which you abhor and he passes you the chocolate milk, which you adore. it's as simple as that, and it stays that way.

fingers wiping at your glasses with the bottom hem of your shirt. you're sprawled back onto renjun's bed, hiking your feet onto the footboard. "what happens when we die, jun?"

the boy swivels in his chair to face you, feet planting at the exact moment. twirling the pen in hand, he places the tip of it at his chin and glances up towards the ceiling in what you think to be rumination. turns out, he's mocking you as always, "hmm, i don't know, why don't you test it out?" you play along gladly, "it'll take a zombie apocalypse to wipe me out, i'm telling you. and when and if that happens i'm bringing you down with me."

your best friend discards his pen back into the abyss of textbooks and notes on his table. he stands and walks and plops himself down on the bed next to you. the two of you are the same height, especially seen when laying down. he's yet to grow past you and you've yet to stop teasing him of it. in fact, you're just about to do so when he beats you to the chase, eyes on the ceiling once again but actually deep in rumination this time, "i hope we get matching tombstones, sorta like best friend necklaces but like- much more cool."

it's the first time you notice the brisk palpitations of your heart when in the aftermath of renjun's words. his words that were also so carefully thought out, witty but not insensitive. eleven-year-old you couldn't bring yourself to accept the fact that renjun was proving to be much more than just your designated bff. cheeks aflame, you turn your head to the left to catch his eyes already on yours. a gulp, a blink, a shift of your sights later and you finally have the words to respond. "that's only if we're not eaten alive first."

you can't help but imagine if the person you were buried by wasn't renjun, and just some man that you'd get to know in college and marry because you're too old to particularly care about notions of love. you can't help but imagine growing up with someone other than renjun by your side. you can't help it but you also struggle to, the reason behind that being you simply can't imagine. (how confusing!) renjun's all you've ever known and you doubt he could ever be replaced in your records. but as much as you wish it to stay that way, it's only a matter of time until things happen, until high school happens, until puberty happens.

it all starts when renjun bounds into your room on the first day of school, seven thirty on the dot and more than ready to take on the day after the absolute feast your mom had cooked up for the two of you. he's about to rattle on about girls and how they always take so damn long to get ready when his mouth is clamped shut at the sight he's met with. the sight he's met with being your reflection in the mirror.

you forgot to mention to him that you'd gone to the optometrist a few days back, not for a new pair of glasses but to get your first pair of contacts instead. a great struggle came with getting them in and out but with practice, you'd managed to avoid outright stabbing yourself in the eye, hence the perfectly fitting lens right this moment as you blink out the excess solution. in the mirror, you glance in the reflection at the door of which renjun is standing in front of. you fail to notice the dumbstruck look on his face and rather, exclaim in glee at how for once, you could see him in full clarity without anything sitting atop your nose and getting caught in your hair.

renjun only nods along and stares for a lot longer as you collect your backpack lain across your bed and sling it across one shoulder, beckoning the bewildered boy to follow as you led the way to the garage where your mom was waiting in the car. and even in the car, he fails to conceal his gaze that seems to never leave the glistening of your eyes. in his third period, the only class that you sadly do not share with him, his mind is still playing over and over the look of glee that graced your features in a way he's never seen before. or maybe he has seen it before, and this sudden surge of newfound feelings is just an indication of him going crazy. yeah, he decides as he sets his tray down at the table you'd agreed to meet him at for lunch, he's definitely just going crazy, nothing new.

well apparently, you'd experienced something in the new because you're currently across the cafeteria, waving frantically at him for you to join the table you were sat at. renjun narrows his eyes though it's plainly obvious that you had made friends with people other than him. not that he minds, he's actually glad that you've ventured out of your social anxiety enough to get along with others. it's something that he's always been worried about ever since he stopped bullying you himself. he finds that he's still worrying, for other reasons, especially when he walks over to find you next to a girl and two boys, all of which looked to either be of a year older or just a thousand times 'cooler' than him. he looks over at you, who though is seated at the end of the table, fits in perfectly. with a tight-lipped smile, renjun slides in to your right and almost quivers under the gaze of your new friends as they introduce themselves.

he comes to know them as this: jaemin, the one that overtly flirts with you, donghyuck, the one that never stops talking, and jennie, the one that you seem to closest to, although only knowing each other for just a few periods at most. lunch ends in a blur of conversation, none of them seem all that interested in renjun himself, moving on rather quickly after your introduction of him, but they sure are interested in you. that's what it seems like to him, when in reality, you notice that most the times you've look over at him, he's as quiet as never before. you wonder what's gotten into him.

you trail renjun to his locker during passing period and with a hand holding it open for him and another leaning your weight on the locker beside him, you speak over the hustle and bustle of the hallways, "sorry about that." he gives a light glance your way before shoving a biology textbook into the back slot of his backpack, and eyebrow crooked, "sorry for what?"

"i mean, i did say we'd eat lunch together, i just didn't think that…"

"that you'd make some friends?"

"yeah-"

"it's fine, y/n," he gives you a fond smile, "i'm actually glad that you made some friends."

you scrunch your nose at his response and the solemnity that lined your voice is gone, replaced with your usual, playful and upbeat tone, "geez, i didn't think you'd want to get rid of me already, the first day isn't even over!" he slams the locker door shut, almost chopping off your fingers in the process. you draw them back insticutally with an, "oop!" and renjun gives a chuckle and a ruffle to your hair, "come on, let's get to class before we're late."

he takes the seat next to you in biology, and also in ceramics the period afterwards, and really, you hope it stays that way.

the cafeteria is particularly empty today, most the kids have gone to the school assembly that wasn't actually mandatory but had to be advertised as so in order to get people to go. you pride yourself for being one of the few people in your school who knew that fact and as your eyes rove the span of the room, they stop at a familiar silhouette of a boy that you could never mistake. something about how you didn't know he was going to be here and that he was sitting alone made your heart uneasy.

you set your tray in front of him before he could comprehend who you even are, "renjun, hey, can i sit here?" it's unfathomable, the way you have to ask him but there's the inkling in the back of your mind that tells you it'd be more awkward if you didn't. you wonder how the hell the two of you have reached a point in your relationship where you had to ask to be in each other's presence. and as far as you know, renjun is still your best friend.

"yeah, sure. you're not at the assembly?"

shaking your head, "no. well, seeing as you're here i assume you also know that they're not mandatory, huh." renjun nods his head. truthfully, he did not know and the only reason he was here was because he thought it was mandatory which meant that you would be there. and wherever you were he sought not to be, for reasons that he only he was privy to. that's what made this whole situation unbearable because as you prattled on about your day, he himself giving the bare minimum of reactions and responses, the tightening knot in the pit of his stomach seemed to grow.

it grew exponentially, just watching you talk about your chemistry exam, and then your friends and then...this, "what about you, jun? how's your love life?" he's always been good at concealing his inner emotions around you, he knows what you notice and what you don't. sometimes being in love with your best friend has its perks, he supposes. "love life? you're serious?"

"yeah, i mean," you lean forward across the table, uttering under your breath so that the four other people in the cafeteria wouldn't hear, "we're in high school now. remember what we talked about?" renjun scoffs at that, at how high school y/n and middle school y/n still shared the same idea that first relationships were supposed to be reserved for the first two years of high school. he gives you an incredulous look, "we're not even a semester in, geez."

"so that's a no, like a no for 'nothing's going on'?" the glimmer of hope that glints in your eyes is indeed caught by the boy, your own first love, but his intuitions, the ones that were wrong from the start, prevents him from seeing into it any further. "yeah, nothing's going on. you?"

"well," you figure this is your chance to shoot your shot, as small of a shot as it may be, "me neither." what you didn't understand at that time was that boys, more specifically renjun, didn't take hints very well. he likes the facts and he likes them placed right under his nose. and what you didn't take into account was that by saying those two words aloud, you've in fact reprogrammed renjun's thought process to think the worst. and it really only gets worse and worse from there on out, until everything you've built up with him is suddenly, suddenly nothing.

you didn't study, plain as day as you stare at the blank whiteboard in the front of the classroom while virtually everyone else has their head downs, pencils scratching. there's three days until winter break, your first since high school has started and your sanity is definitely at stake. you look down, circle a two, a one, and two threes, and look back up, propping your chin upon a hand and tapping a finger along your jaw. perhaps a thinking pose with get your brain into the right mindset to dig for the right information. you're then reminded of how the information wouldn't be there in the first place. it might've been if you ever dared to listen in class.

groaning aloud, seemingly the whole class turns to give you a look, a glare, even a questioning glance from your teacher who you're almost sure knows exactly what predicament you're in right now. huffing in equal parts regret and exasperation, you're the first to turn in the exam only forty minutes into the period. after all, randomly guessing the answers to two hundred multiple choice questions isn't all that hard when all you have to do is choose a number from one to three.

sitting back down with a soft thud, you debate sleeping for the rest of class but come to the decision that, one: sleep is for the weak, and two: you don't deserve to sleep after an exam, the only people that deserved to sleep were the people that stayed up late to study, not to watch corny minecraft videos under the blankets. it's not nice to judge other people's definitions of time and worthiness but you're really hard on yourself and the things you do for leisure, for obvious reasons.

body slumped over, you get the closest you can to sleeping without actually closing your eyes. in a classroom full of classmates, some friends and others acquaintances, you feel like you're left entirely to yourself, or your thoughts more specifically. they eat at you. and when your eyes roam and land on that one person, in the column to your left and four seats ahead, you can't seem to stop the spiraling. before you know it, renjun is all you can think about.

the way he twirls his pencil in his hand, you were there when he was watching youtube videos on how to do it. the pencil itself, you were by his side while he read out the reviews for it on amazon. the way he bounces his sneakers up and down in the most rhythmic fashion, the same fashion you'd always scold him for. the sneakers, the ones his mom bought him for christmas just under a year ago. you'd know because you were there too. eyes solely on him, you try your best to find one thing about him that you can't tie your name to before you realize it isn't possible. you know renjun through and through. you like to think you do.

but even with everything that you know, you wonder when you started to feel the tug in the back of your mind that kept whispering that he was moving on from you. maybe you were right to feel that way, the signs were all there. late night texts, facetime calls, hell, even instagram photo replies were scarce these days. and although he'd always chalk it up to his workload, you had to hold it in each time you wanted to quip back with the fact that the two of you were in freshman year, some colleges don't even count first year grades. talking to him at school wouldn't be so hard if he'd stop avoiding you, wherever you were he was not and whenever you'd ask to meet up, he'd give the vaguest of excuses. a general meeting for a club you've never heard of, a math study group with a friend you were sat right next to, a blatant lie. just as blatantly, you come to terms with the fact that it's time to accept and forget.

so when the bell rings and you see renjun rush to do his final, quadruple check, you simply move to put your things away. and when you see renjun return to his seat, eyes meeting yours for a split second, you look away with feigned disinterest. and when he turns to exit the classroom, you stop yourself from linking an arm and forcing conversation upon him. you simply follow in tow and turn in the opposite direction. you don't play into your desires because really, as much as you desire them, your fear of his distance is enough to draw a line. your fear of rejection is greater than any feelings you've ever held for him. isn't that how it always is?

sophomore year is two-thirds of the way through when you notice that renjun is taller than you by over three inches. that alone scares you, and saddens you, because it just goes to show that you haven't talked to him in so very long. his familiar smell and the way his fingers loop themselves in the straps of his backpack bring back a lot of feelings that would've made your heart swoon a mere year ago but now makes it stop dead in its tracks. sighing, you clasp your hands behind your back as your lips thin into a tight-lipped smile, "it's been awhile, jun. how have you been?"

renjun's eyes threaten to water at the sound of your voice. he swears the ground will open up beneath him and swallow him whole in response to the way you still call him 'jun.' the only thing he can do is grip his backpack straps a little tighter and try a little harder to conceal his emotions. after all, his efforts in doing so are what led him into this situation in the first place. "i've been good. you?"

with excess vigor, you nod, "i've been pretty good, studying and all that," you give a motion of your head to denote the obvious that was the building to the side of you. you just had to exit the library at the same time as him and his ride just had to be as late as your own. "so," your eyes snap back to him when he speaks, "how's it with uhh...jaemin?" nodding again, this time with less enthusiasm, as your ex-best friend notes, you prattle on, "it's going really well, seven months strong."

oh hell, what was renjun expecting? even if you hated the living life out of your relationship, he doubts you would have laid it all out for him to see. the two of you haven't held a conversation, much less eye contact, for almost a year now. and by the looks of how your mom's car pulls into view just then and how you leave him standing on the curb with only a wave of your hand, it's about to be a year and counting.

your mom gives you a worried look as soon as the car door shuts behind you, "sweetie, was that renjun?" she veers the car out of the parking lot as you take one big gulp of air only to refute it back out in a dramatic huff. bounding your back against your seat, you strap on the seat belt and frown into the abyss, a clear devastation in your tone, "yeah it was."

"did you start the talking or did he?"

"i did! well, i thought that he would but he didn't!" with a click of her tongue matching the click of the turn signal, your mother gives you the briefest of glances, "darling, if he didn't want to talk to you then, then you shouldn't expect him to talk to you now."

"but it would've been even more awkward to just stand there."

the two of you shake your head for different reasons, your mother's just a bit more reasonable, "it's been a while, y/n. it's clear that he just didn't want to be your friend anymore. and plus, look at you, all moved on from your first love. your second one's quite the catch, huh?"

and she's right. you nod along with the thoughts that renjun's diminished presence was eye opening in many ways. one, it really was about time you got over him, two years was long enough. two, first loves were just that, the first and rarely ever the last. three, you barely had any friends. and four, your life didn't revolve around boys.

na jaemin asked you out three times before you'd said yes. you liked him more than enough during the first two tries but your hesitance was found in the way you didn't trust him nearly as much as you thought you should in a relationship. your phone pings from beside you and you lift it to see the same boy and the ridiculous contact name he had entered for himself, a nana with about fifty different variations of hearts following.

a finger hovers above it, about to swipe and give a quick reply, when an incoming notification replaces it. the contact name is rather simple, huang renjun. you suck in a breath and immediately click your phone shut, shoving it back into the depths of your backpack. jaemin will have to wait for your damned nerves to calm before you can get to his text, the blockade being renjun.

it isn't until you're home, backpack slung on the footboard of your bed, changed out of your clothes and resting atop three heavy blankets that should've probably been exchanged in the wake of spring, that you steel yourself to look at the preview of your text.

let's catch up sometime, tell me when you're free. punctuation and all.

biting down on your lip, you note that the coffee in front of you, or rather just its aftertaste, is sickeningly sweet. looking up ahead, the regret that pools in your eyes is put full on display, unintentionally of course, but there nonetheless. you regret that you didn't text renjun sooner, that you broke up with jaemin on your one year anniversary, that you stopped talking to your mom about things that so obviously upset you, and that you simply took the path of misfortunes when it seemed like nothing else could possibly go wrong.

but the matter of the fact is that you did text renjun, and not out of desperation or to rekindle an old love that was never reciprocated. you texted renjun because after everything that had happened, you still have no idea where it all started to go wrong, you have no idea what you even did that could render such terrible circumstances and you have not the slightest clue as to how to get yourself back together. in short, in very short, you are in need of a companion and, for the better part of your life, that's exactly what huang renjun is to you.

as much as you would have loved to meet at a more secluded place, perhaps just your house, you also knew how informal that would seem of you after not talking to the dude for almost a year and a half now. he meets your eyes with his own, hesitant at first, but the smallest of smiles is soon to follow and you're left to wonder why, just like that, your world already seems to shift back into place and why his smile seems to make it all...make sense.

"how are you now?" the laugh in his tone is bare but detectable only to you. being swaddled in familiarity really does a good number or two on your dampened mood. a smile hasn't chanced on your own face but you doubt it'll be long before it does, "pretty terrible, jun. how 'bout you?"

"about the same."

"same as me or...same as last time?"

"same as you."

the two of you nod, slowly and with eyes locked. his eyes are still on yours when he picks up his venti latte for a sip and even still when he puts it back down. yours are still on his when you do the same, and even still in the moments after when your voice breaches the silence once again, "so this is warranted."

this time only he nods, "you mean that this is necessary."

your response comes in the form of a smile, wide and exhilaratingly relieving, as if you've been waiting for a reason to smile and have, at last, been given one. your hands clasp around the paper cup, the contents inside warming your palms, a feeling that you welcome though the summer heat is fast upon you. the sun sets in the backdrop as your now reinstated best friend walks you home. it's nowhere to be seen when he drops you off at your doorstep and leaves with a mumbled, "goodnight, text me later," and the shuffle of quickened steps down your driveway.

that night, you stay up until the hours of early morning, texting the one person that's always had such a hold on you. sloppily spelled out text after text, you're bound to fall asleep until you do, but not before reading the last he'd sent.

lets hang out tmw. no punctuation needed.

"i got your coffee, even added a ton of sugar," your eyes switch from the floor to the mug in your hands to the boy sat in front of you. instead of being grateful for the painstaking lengths you'd gone to trying to figure out how to get the coffee machine to work, renjun whines, "i only wanted a spoon of sugar."

"but you said you had to stay up late tonight," he takes the mug from your hands, fingers brushing and his eyes peering over the rim as he takes a sniff, "how will i get my caffeine if i can't even drink it?" shrugging, you take it back from him, "then i guess i'll just drink it."

"what? no, you have to go to sleep soon," renjun's brows crease in slight irritation at the proposition. your do the same, a mirror image of your best friend. when you've known someone for so long, slight nuances like these are always shared. "what are you? my mom?"

"no, but if i was, oho, you'd be damned," renjun grabs for the mug and this time takes a sip. he does his best not to scrunch his face when the sweetness hits. "i'm gonna go get ready for bed then, mom." his chuckles resonate from behind.

renjun stays up late to study and, seeing the score you got on the biology final the next day, you probably should have done the same. he looks back from his spot on the desk, the chair being positioned so that his back was to you. it's only been about fifteen minutes since you came from the bathroom with your retainers in and contacts switched out for glasses but it's just that gets his heart beating again, not so unfamiliar to the palpitations it underwent on the first day of high school, all those years ago.

he gets up and crosses the room, sock-clad feet careful not to make too much noise. you're slumped, half on the headboard and half sprawled across the bed itself, passed out already. bending over your figure, renjun slips the phone from your hands and sets it upon the beside table, he pulls your form further down the bed to prevent the worst type of neck aches in the morning, and he draws the blankets to your chin, tucking the ends beneath your figure in the same way you've always liked it.

then he crouches by your side and stares. he stares as your slow breaths fan across his face, lightly billowing the ends of his hair. he stares as the minutes on the blaring red digital clock on the bedside table fly by faster and faster. he stares until the glasses propped on the bridge of your nose bring back all the memories he'd sought to forget, when really, he could never let himself forget.

renjun remembers you crying about it to your mom, in second grade that is, after she'd picked you up with your nose all blotchy and red and renjun's tiny fists scathed. he remembers how much you hated them and wore them the least you could even though you needed them to see practically anything. renjun remembers at the age of eleven, he'd whispered in your ear on the first day of middle school, how much he liked your new frames. he remembers how you always kept them on when it was just you and him at sleepovers, or how you always told him that you didn't care what he thought of you because it was him, renjun.

he still wonders if you feel that way though if not, he wouldn't mind spending more time with you to make it so. to renjun, you're presence is irreplaceable. and not because you make him happy, but because you also make him sad, because when you're angry, you don't mind that he's angry too, and that when the whole world is turned upon you, he's the only one that can ground you. to renjun, you're the only person that's capable of making him feel like the best and worst person in the world, at the same time, or not at all, or everything in between.

and if renjun has learned anything from his studies on the universe, it's that in the whole scheme of the world, the galaxies and galaxies so big that no one can even come close to fathoming their size, he is just as insignificant as anyone else on this planet. but he if he has found something, a someone, to which he can anchor his worth, his lifetime of feelings to, he has all the reason to live. renjun doesn't mean to be dramatic, but as a second year high school student he thinks he has all the reason to say that his reason to live sorta, maybe, possibly is you.

standing, he hooks two fingers under the sides of the frames of your glasses, lifting them off your face and folding them in a hand, careful not to smudge the lens, he places them on the bedside table as well. he goes back to studying but it doesn't last. how can it when all he can think about is you?

the you who he slips into bed next to instead of sleeping on the floor like usual. the flustered you who he wakes up to. the sleepy you who ruffles his hair before getting up and out of bed. the lovely you who brushes your teeth to the beat of whatever song is playing. the caring you who makes peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the both of you to share at lunch.

renjun sits in the back seat to your side, his mom smiles at you in the rearview mirror. somewhere in her eyes he can tell that she's glad you're back in his life. maybe because that's how it should've been all along. he looks over to you, now with your head stuck in your textbook trying to (futilely) get some last minute cramming in before the big test. his finger fidget with the loose threads of his sweater, he smiles. and it stays that way.

you're not a fan of the stars, at least not as avid as your best friend but you do your best to recognize the ones he's taught you and learn the ones he's teaching, right now. "that one? i thought that was the chameleon one…," renjun is not the slightest bothered, having the ability to go on and on about the heavens above even if no one was listening. he turns his head towards you, weight propped up on his elbows, "we're not even in the right hemisphere to be seeing the chameleon, y/n."

"oh," you turn your head to face him as well but instead of being on your elbows, you're flat on your back, the grasses that teem over the edge of the blanket brushing your right arm. "do you know how long we've been out here?"

"does it matter? we're literally in your backyard," he sits up to check his phone anyways. "it's barely one, let's stay out for a bit more."

"okay."

renjun lays back down, now also on his back and he stares in appreciation that the little city the two of you grew up in wasn't crowded with light pollution in the summer sky, almost as if him and his star fascinations were meant to be born here. the sounds of ten or so crickets are prevalent but not blaring and the light zephyr that sifts between the houses of your street meets your skin with a warm touch. you're fully convinced that summer nights belong to the young.

breaking the silence, you grasp onto the words that cross your mind in passing, "how was your day?" renjun's head swivels in your direction again. oh how easy it is for him to be sidetracked from his favorite pastime by his favorite distraction. "my day? wasn't i with you the whole day?" your right hand balls a fist of grass and pulls, the blades are plucked sleazily from the ground and fall just as sleazily as you release them into the wind. "well yeah, but like- how was it?"

"it was good, any day with you is a good day."

positioning your body so that it now faces him, there's suddenly many things that are crossing your mind and begging for you to voice them aloud. his curt but sweet answer leaves space for your inquiries. "are you ever going to tell me what happened?" he's turning to face you as well, the blanket beneath the both of you scrunching as he moves and the outlines of his face illuminated by the light of the lantern, a good fifteen feet away. "what exactly are you referring to?"

rejun sees his past being dredged up further and further with each coming word that tumbles from your mouth, "like a year ago." his heart beats a little faster and if he wanted to, he could mouth your next string of words. "you got all...i don't know, distant i guess." swallowing thickly, he can feel your eyes on him as he decides to come clean, half clean.

"that was- that was a weird time for me." a noise of confusion and a, "how so?" gets his brain working double time to feed your curiosities without bearing his heart to you. the mere prospect of telling you his undying love for you is undoubtedly out of the question. "i guess, i was having a hard time getting adjusted to school and i didn't have that much time for...us. that's what happened."

so huang renjun ends up tossing out a blatant lie, something he knows you weren't even close to accepting as the truth but also something he knew you wouldn't question. if he wasn't comfortable with letting you know then so be it. you nod.

there are things that he wants to know as well, "then can i ask what happened with you and jaemin?" and for reasons all too similar to renjun's you also lie, "just kinda fell out of love with him. nothing spectacular."

but renjun knows more than he lets on. he knows from the rumors, things you've told your friends that have somehow made their way around the school, that have made their way to him. it still holds that he isn't all that trusting of silly gossip but the potency this one piece of information holds, the hopes, the desires, the dreams and the fantasies, it's not something he can so easily pass up. he knows that you broke up with jaemin because yes, you fell out of love with him, but that only happened because you were still in love with him, huang renjun.

where you live, september mornings, even still early in the month, have already succumbed to the edicts of fall. fog gags the clear air and renjun finds it difficult to see three feet in front of him. despite that, the road to school is still the same as always and though his mom was unable to drive him today, making it so he had to wake up half an hour early, he doesn't mind it half as much as he thought it would. in fact, he finds himself thinking more about you than anything on the lone walk there.

hands swinging back and forth, a little crazily in the absence of anyone else on the street, he passes by the convenience store a few blocks down from the school, the one that's open twenty-four hours a day and the one that you and him have been frequenting a lot at three a.m. when the midnight hungers start to kick in. the thought almost slips his mind before he has a chance to act on it.

you decide that junior year is the worst. not even halfway through your first period, the looming presence of empty resumes and college application preparations is already making you queasy. luckily, you share four of your classes with renjun who is currently in the seat next to you. he's focused, as always, while your ap us history teacher reads off of the syllabus to stall time. you really should be paying attention as well but the first day of school, especially one with renjun by your side, seems to transport you into the depths of your memories. your first day of freshman year. there's key differences though.

let's start out with the obvious. renjun is now a head taller than you, much to your chagrin. he teases you about it just as much as you had when he was the same height as you. also as obvious, you're no longer on talking terms with jennie and donghyuck, whom have since stuck with jaemin. which leads to the biggest turn of events that distinguishes your first day in high school to your second to last, if such a comparison even mattered.

third period ends, this time ap english language, a class that you don't mind at all and are, in fact, so invested in the free write that was assigned that you don't notice that the bell has rung, or that all the people around you are either packing up their things or leaving. you don't notice renjun, who's still beside you, packing up his own things as well. his desk is completely cleared save for one thing, one thing that he picks up hesitantly and holds behind his back, entirely unsure if now was even the right time for him to be carrying through with his plan.

this plan of his had been meticulously thought out during his walk to school, an impulse driven thought that, if not successful, would guarantee a trashy start of his junior year. the corners of the carton are a little bashed up from being jostled around his backpack for so long and he hopes the contents aren't completely spoiled just yet.

your head snaps up in surprise as he crosses over to the front of your desk and you're even more surprised to see that the classroom is completely void of students, your teacher had even rushed out to make the most of his lunchtime. "oh shoot! we're not gonna get a spot at the cafeteria, jun!" with haste, you start shoving your belongings into your backpack, the pencil case still wide open as you toss it in. renjun himself recedes in his thought process, certainly there would be a better time. if only he lived on your side of town, maybe then he could do it while walking you home. or maybe if he had the last period of the day with you, surely catching you after class would be too difficult. or maybe it he should've done it yesterday after the two of you spent the whole night playing games, that would've worked out a little better tha-

"renjun, what's that you're holding?"

his hand that was once behind his back has now dropped to his side, escaping his notice, and you were bent over the side of the desk to yank your backpack closed, giving you the perfect view.

"oh, this," he overcomes his flustered state in a record time of three seconds. it's now or never, he thinks, "this is for you." renjun holds out a carton of chocolate milk to you. "picked it up on the way to school today."

you take it from him graciously, turning it over in your hands as the realization dawns on you, "wait, this is the same brand as- as that one." renjun licks his lips, he shoves his hands into his pockets, takes them back out, sets them atop your desk, "yeah, it is."

your bottom lip is tucked under your front teeth as you look up at him with thoughtful eyes, no longer of appreciation or revelation but rather…, "jun, why did you get this for me?" you fold back the top of the carton, as you had learned, folding forward once again so an opening would slit. bringing it to your lips, you take three sips, the container so small that that already amounts to over half its total.

the window of opportunity has never been set wider than now. you watch as your best friend gulps, visibly, as he blinks, purposefully, as a hand comes to the scruff of his neck and rubs at it, almost forcefully before twelve years of his pent up feelings are regurgitated into the empty english classroom. the cafeteria is surely packed now.

"i like you, y/n. i got it for you because i like you."

backpack left on the ground beside you, you take a step forward, one which he reciprocates with a step back. another step is taken and another until you're in front of him, the desk directly behind. swallowing your nerves, your eyes glisten in the garish yellow lighting, "that's- that's nice to know. because i like you too."

renjun licks his lips one more time before they're on yours, kissing you just as he'd dreamed of ever since he even knew what it was, what it meant. his hand on your waist is as decisive as his steps that push you back and back until your thighs hit the desk, you prop yourself up onto it. renjun uses his height to deepen the kiss, he duly notes the sweet tang of the chocolate milk on your lips and he loves it. he loves the way it tastes, he loves that it's his lips, his tongue, that's tasting it, he loves that it's your lips that he's kissing, he loves how your hand never leaves the spot on his waist, or the other one on his shoulder, and he loves how he gets to kiss you like this however and whenever from then on. or really, he just loves you.

and it stays that way.

✧ end note — my many inspirations for this piece — the song around by niki, the kdrama 'reply 1997' an all time favorite, and of course, hannah! check them all out hehe... hannah babe, i hope you loved this piece as much as i love you. consider it a token of my love HASHAAs but really, you're such a wonderful presence in my life <33

#neowritingsnet #neothestars #neo-constellations #neoculturecafe #renjun fluff #renjun angst #huang renjun #nct renjun #nct fics #nct scenarios #rouiyan fics #rouiyan writes

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uncurlinglikeflowers · 3 years

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Queer Trauma, Coming Out, & the Long Road to Self-Love and Healing

As I’ve reflected on my past, I’ve discovered that my adolescence may be one of, if not THE most traumatic time of my life thus far as a queer person. The last few months with my incredible therapist have made me realize that the years of anxiety, panic, fear, self-loathing, confusion, and depression have scarred me deeper than I had previously thought. She also made me realize that this is at least partially because I have never really talked about it openly and in depth in a healthy and productive way before, which is what inspired me to start this blog to share my experiences with others that are currently struggling with their identity, or to allow those that are also currently healing from the trauma of their previously closeted life feel a little more seen.

I knew from a VERY young age that I was different, but didn’t know how or what it meant. I was a lonely kid for a lot of my childhood without many friends. I didn’t want to play football with the boys during recess. I sought companionship at lunch with a table full of girls more often than not, which in itself also made me feel incredibly self conscious at the time as well.

I asked, (with incredible shame) for the “girl’s toy” from the backseat in the McDonald’s drive-thru because I loved to play with the mini-Barbies and craft entire storylines for them. They were easier to hide in my room than regular sized Barbies. I spent most summers off school alone playing video games and reading book and book after book. I didn’t really click with the boys down the street. I was obsessed with Britney Spears and the color purple. I was lonely without really knowing what it meant.

I feel as though that fear I felt in my childhood and adolescence held me back from SO much. Middle school in particular was absolute hell. I hated it. I always felt constantly insecure and uncomfortable. I had absolutely zero confidence or self love. I hated my body and how I looked.

While other kids experienced their first relationships and first feelings of romantic love, I was convinced that it was just not a possibility for me. On top of being deeply closeted, scared, confused, lonely, and in deep denial, girls didn’t go for me anyway. I was the awkward chunky guy struggling with his identity feeling like he had to make up for it by working extra hard to get perfect grades and give himself 100% to other people. I tried not to think about it too much, but hearing about relationships, seeing people kiss in the hallways between classes, and girls talking about what they liked in boys which was the complete opposite of me... it was hell.

To make my self consciousness worse, I felt supremely uncomfortable in gym class and the boys’ locker room in particular. I was ashamed of my body and also self conscious for wanting to look at the other boys; terrified that they would catch on and beat me senseless. Hearing them consistently call each other f*g in a very VERY negative context drove me deep into the closet as the identity I already felt shame for was directly correlated with being a ridiculed outcast, and something that was inherently, disgustingly wrong and unacceptable. The worst insult teenage boys could deliver to each other in the safety of an unchaperoned locker room in a hick town often not kind to queer people or those that were different. I SO desperately wanted to fit in with the other boys instead of being any version of who I actually was.

Part of that façade of blending in with my hetero peers involved having a girlfriend for two months in 8th grade. We didn’t even kiss, let alone approach any sexual situations. I’m sure she had her suspicions. I was utterly obsessed with the concept of blending in by having a girlfriend like the other boys and just having someone special in my life, even if we really didn’t even do any couple things.

Upon reflection, I don’t think the concept of ever being sexual with her ever crossed my mind in the slightest. Even the idea of kissing her scared the hell out of me, and not just from first kiss nerves. Deep down I knew it wasn’t right for me. Don’t EVER tell a kid they’re too young to know. Fast forward to modern times, my first kiss with a girl was with a close friend YEARS after I came out. Go figure.

The idea of caring about and loving myself was non-existent at that time. It’s a very VERY new and ongoing journey for me. I didn’t really care about myself at all. I hadn’t learned how to. Mom was in and out of cancer treatments, and would later pass during my senior year of college and kick off my coming out process, but that’s a whole other post for another day. Spending pretty much my entire childhood watching mom deal with being sick, I didn’t want to cause my family any more discomfort. I was full of self loathing, fear, and confusion, but it seemed irrelevant and unimportant because I didn’t want to be a hindrance.

Instead, I tried so desperately to be the perfect kid and son by befriending my teachers, being a model student, and joining band and a bunch of organizations to stay as busy as possible to stay distracted and impress everyone else.I didn’t love myself because I didn’t think I was allowed to or deserved to in my own head. While I did finally make more meaningful friends in high school, I continued to go through the motions to make my family proud to make up for the scared closeted kid who thought he had to make up for his queerness as though it were a shameful weakness, and it seemed to be the only thing that could possibly matter at the time.

Non-surprisingly, I never really knew any openly queer boys in grade school. It probably legitimately wasn’t all that safe to come out in that environment. I’ll never forget the two boys I saw holding hands in a Wal-Mart that absolutely shook up my entirely reality, because I had never seen romantic same-sex affection in person before.

There was a lesbian couple at my school, but people said awful, degrading things about them behind their backs constantly and acted like they were the biggest freaks. Another boy in my grade in high school hadn’t come out yet officially but was very flamboyant, and thus was treated just as awful as the lesbian couple, if not worse. Other kids just regularly said despicable things about him without even knowing him at all. I even heard parents make blatantly homophobic jokes about him.

His life had to have been hell, and as a fully out queer adult, I still regret not being able to stand up for him more. That definitely forced me deeper into the closet. He wasn’t even out but got talked about like he was some disgusting abomination. How could I ever assume that I could ever come out, let alone kiss, date, and love another boy? I HATED the idea of any attention being placed on me, so I just wanted to survive school at that point.

I had multiple people throughout high school ask me if I were gay just as though it were the most casual question rather than a triggering inquiry that sent me into a mental frenzy every damn time it was presented. Having one of the jock boys ask me such a deeply personal question in passing on the way to my seat in Algebra class was traumatizing. I of course always said no, as at the time I was still convinced it was a passing phase and that I couldn’t actually be gay.

At home, in the days of Myspace, I got anonymous messages telling me they were pretty sure I was gay. The anonymity was arguably worse in some ways.

At a young age, I became hyper aware of how I carried myself, talked, and acted. I loathed hearing my voice or seeing myself in pictures, for fear of sounding too feminine or standing or emoting too gay. I obsessed over the concept that boys and girls carried their books a certain way, or the boys would be labelled as queer. I was paranoid about where I shopped for clothes, the colors I wore, and the length and fit of my shorts.

In middle school, I got a lilac colored trapper keeper for school that I ultimately had my parents take back to the store for a different one because I felt so self conscious about it all day. At home I played with my little Barbies, but didn’t dare tell the kids at school for fear of rejection and isolation. Overall, I felt grossly incompetent, irrelevant, and unimportant in my own mind. Unworthy of love and of course, deeply ashamed for my attraction to the other boys.

I never had anyone whatsoever to help guide me through the coming out process, because I didn’t know a single queer person who could. I’ve now dedicated a good amount of my energy trying to be that person I desperately could have used then for anyone else that needs that role to be filled, and for someone to tell them that someone is incredibly proud of them. An obscene amount of queer people don’t ever hear “I’m so proud of you!” when they really need it the most.

I also didn’t have any good queer representation on TV or in movies, so I really did feel completely alone at times. Most queer characters in media existedly solely to be made fun of and mocked, ratcher than celebrated, properly represented, or God forbid, given a legitimate love story, and the public’s reaction was so frequently one of such repugnance and disapproval.

This was also probably about the time that a close family member told me that he had punched a gay guy for hitting on him when he was younger, a story he again felt the need to share with a now ex-boyfriend and I when we were dating, as though that’s not a horrifying thing for an already scared and closeted queer to hear from their own family.

I think during middle school in particular is when my anxiety and depression issues started, but I assumed either that I was being a baby and that my feelings were invalid, or that it was just teenage angst. The idea that boys and men should mask their emotions and feelings and feel shame rather than expressing them was, (and seemingly appears to continue to be) a very real thing in small towns and society in general.

It didn’t occur to me at the time that I was experiencing varying levels of almost daily trauma that would fuck me up well into adulthood. If you take anything at all from this post, let it be that the conversation around mental health, (and men in particular in this instance) NEEDS to change.

Another particularly noteworthy event in my queer adolescence was when two of my friends, (both girls, shocker) discovered gay porn on my computer. While they pestered me about if it were mine while they laughed, I of course lied. I felt a deep shame and utter humiliation. On reflection, fucking IMAGINE if they had been able to be gentle and understanding with me and told me they loved me and still would even if I were gay. From then on I was terrified that they would bring that day up to our other friends as a joke. Perhaps they did a time or two, I don’t recall. These same friends made jokes about the queer kid I mentioned earlier, and both parents of one of the girls regularly gossiped and made homophobic jokes about him when I was at their house

By the time school dances rolled around, I knew I would never be able to go with anyone but friends. Even if I weren’t still deeply closeted, I’m pretty sure my school still had pretty strict rules against bringing same-sex dates to Prom. While I definitely had fun with my friends at the dances we went to, I so desperately longed for a world where I could dance with a boy who loved me like everyone else was able to.

The loneliness and isolation I felt at the end of those nights could be unbearable because it didn’t seem possible for me, even as I looked into the future. I was fully convinced I would live a very lonely life without anyone to love me the way I craved. I didn’t belong in that world, and wouldn’t ever be set up for that kind of happiness, joy, and feeling of content. I would live for everyone else but myself because that’s just the way the world worked for us queers.

I wish I had had just one single person then who gave me full permission to be my authentic queer self on any level. Someone who could hug me and tell me life after high school and college could and would be vastly different. Someone to tell me I wasn’t an unlovable disgusting freak, but rather a kind-hearted boy who deserved a deep love someday because I was a valid and gentle soul who deserved the world. I certainly deserved more than the shame and pain that constantly haunted me.

Maybe then I wouldn’t have thought about death before 30 so much and obsessed over it well into my college career. I might have realized that I needed to learn to be gentle with myself and take care of and prioritize me and my own happiness. So many people let me down and convinced me that I was a filthy sinner and an over-emotional kid with invalid perspectives and feelings. As most of my closest friends, (that I cannot stress enough have been the ones to save my life and encourage the authenticity that I present so proudly today) came into my life after I had already come out fully, they weren’t around during those dark early struggles.

Sometimes as an adult I still wonder what it would have felt like and how profoundly different my life could be if someone had held me close and sincerely told me they’re proud of me for what I survived and overcame, and told me that they can’t wait to see my eyes light up with the love I’ve always dreamed of in a boy, and that I still continue to seek.

Young, baby gay Travis would be in absolute awe if he knew what life had in store for him back then. To see a future version of himself painting his nails, wearing whatever he wanted, dancing with strangers at pride festivals, having the time of his life at drag shows with his queer family and falling in love with boys? Proudly holding a boyfriend’s hand walking downtown in a busy city? Openly telling his dad about the cute boy he’s going on a date with? Going Facebook official with a boy? Being a super vocal advocate and inspiration and mentor to not only queer family, but to people he hardly talks to but manages to influence and inspire just by unashamedly being himself? Genuinely looking forward to kissing his new husband in front of family and friends on his wedding day, knowing it’ll be one of the happiest days of his entire life?

Holy. Actual. Fuck.

Travis of six or seven years ago wouldn’t have even dared to dream this big, let alone baby gay Travis. He probably would have been utterly mortified but SO comforted to see that future life when he didn’t believe it to be any level of possible.

I’m so fucking proud of myself for this journey, and no one will ever take that away from me or water down my trauma or the grueling work I’ve put in. Genuinely, this is the one thing in my life that makes me absolutely burst with pride.

I think I want to learn how to keep baby Travis in mind with this pride without having to revisit the trauma in the process. Look back at him with open arms, excited to see him learn and blossom into his actual self someday. Even if he could have desperately used someone like the me I am today, he survived then, and continues to persevere today.

He’s queer as fuck, and proud to shout it from the rooftops. He’s a voice and an advocate for the voiceless. A shining light and beacon of hope for those still navigating their terrifying escape from their closeted life. He’s going to meet a man someday and love him so deeply in the way baby Travis always dreamed of. Above all, he’s going to continue to make that little guy so incredibly proud because he knows now the importance of loving himself in the process.

I’m so proud of that scared little boy. I just wish he could have known then how proud he would make himself one day.

As you talk with the queer people in your life, please keep in mind that just about all of us have incredible trauma directly tied to our identities. Talk to them with love, compassion, and understanding. Tell them how proud of them you are for pursuing their own happiness in the face of oppression and rejection.

Demand better from elected officials. Advocate for us. Shut down homophobic ideals, even if you think it’ll make your family and friends uncomfortable to hear. Support queer content, artists and creators. Be a proud ally, but don’t ever allow yourself to take the spotlight away from actual queer people or our queer spaces. Mourn, love, and celebrate with us.

Understand why pride is SO fucking important to us, and why you never have to worry about needing your own pride events. Listen to us and love us for exactly who we are, and were always meant to be. Love is the most incredible, beautiful, and often rare human experience we’re able to experience during our short time on this planet, and it should always be celebrated.

Happy Pride!

#pride #gay #lgbt #journaling #love #queer #coming out #coming out stories #queer trauma #adolescent trauma #self love #healing #trauma

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Text

Bullies, Black Eyes, and Big Brothers

(read it on AO3)

“Let’s not jump to conclusions right away.”

“What’s there to ‘jump to’, Jake? He got in a fight and gave another kid a bloody nose and knocked out two baby teeth.”

“Yeah, okay, I know that sounds bad.” Jake sighs while shifting gears. They’d gotten the call from Mac’s teacher just fifteen minutes ago, but from Amy’s fidgeting, he could tell she would’ve liked to have already arrived at the school. For what it’s worth, he’s still surprised Holt let them both go without much explanation - he supposes the sentence “Mac’s school called” is some sort of magic spell to turn their captain into grandpa mode.

“I just remember a lot of times where I got into trouble and wished my mom had listened to me first before the punishment, you know?”

Now it’s Amy’s turn to sigh.

“Okay. He gets one chance at explaining himself, and then we ground him for punching someone.”

When they finally make it to the classroom with Mac’s teacher waiting in front of it, Amy seems to have forgotten all about it though, as she already starts apologising to Ms. Hernandez for the trouble Mac has caused.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions.” The teacher says, and Jake remembers why he’s so glad that Mac got her as homeroom teacher in this grade instead of that nasty old Mrs. Lipschitz he had last year. “Yes, Mac and Dennis got into a fight, and they’re both a little worse for wear, but we have no idea who started it or why. Neither of them will talk to me, so I hoped that you might get more out of him than me. Dennis’ parents couldn’t make it yet, I’m afraid.”

Jake nods and sneaks a peek through the little window on the door - Mac and Dennis (he guesses - not a classmate he’s familiar with) are sitting 4 tables apart, both staring down at the desks with the most forlorn looks he’s ever seen on two 10-year-olds. He remembers his first fight that ended with heavy bruises and a bleeding eyebrow, right around the same age, after stepping between Gina and some teen she’d been mouthing off to. Dennis is still holding a slightly bloody towel up to his nose, and Mac’s t shirt is ripped at the collar, and - yeah, that’s definitely a black eye on his little guy. His stomach swoops down sickenly low and he wants to walk in and just carry him home straight away to ice cream and cartoons on tv and no stupid classmates that fight him anywhere.

As it stands, he tries to walk in as calmly as Amy does, now that she’s pulled herself together again, before crouching down in front of Mac’s desk.

“Hey, bud.” He smiles at him, but Mac only looks up for a second and then back down to the table, and God can he please just hug his kid and not see the worry and fear in his soft chocolate-brown eyes?

“Do you want to tell us what happened?” Amy says from his side, equally crouched down, and her voice is far softer than it was on the drive here. She’s probably thinking something very similar to Jake.

Mac, however, shoots a look over to Dennis, who’s decidedly ignoring all three of them, and then up to Ms. Hernandez stood beside him, before shaking his head.

“C’mon, Mac.” Jake tries to give him one more push. “We can’t do anything if we don’t know the story.”

Mac rubs at his eye - the non-black one - and sniffles, but that’s the only sound he makes. Jake fights back another sigh before looking up to the teacher.

“Do you think we could talk to him alone?” You don’t interrogate suspects with their aggressor still present, his detective mind adds, but he’s not sure if that’s an appropriate explanation for an elementary school classroom.

Ms. Hernandez nods, anyway, and tells Dennis to step out with her.

Once the door clicks shut behind them, Jake fully lowers down to one knee and smiles at Mac again.

“How about now? Do we get a story?”

Mac still seems hesitant for a moment, sniffling once again, but then-

“He kicked Maya.” he almost whispers, and his voice sounds sore, like he’s been yelling, or crying, or maybe both. “She was on the merry-go-round that he wanted to go on and he kicked her to make her leave and she fell off and I think she hurt her elbow. Ms. Mabel took her away for a band aid. I couldn’t check. I was too far away.”

“Oh peanut.” Amy says after she’s made her way round the desk to softly ruffle through his hair (it’s a mess anyway, probably from the fight as well). “You didn’t have to be afraid to tell us that. But it also wasn’t okay to hit him. I’m sure Ms. Mabel would’ve talked to him later.”

“He’s called her names before and makes fun of her.” Mac continues, the floodgates apparently finally open. “And he always pushes her out of his way. And she said he chased her around with a stick once until she hid in the toilets. So now she doesn’t wanna go outside during recess anymore. And he took her turrón de maní that abuela gave us that you packed us for lunch.” He looks up at Jake now, and so luckily doesn’t see the way Amy’s face begins to change from soft worry to unbridled mom-rage. “I gave her half of mine.”

Jake has to take a deep breath too, because he reasons that running out to punch a fourth grader in the stomach is probably not a good thing to do, no matter how strong the impulse.

“Why didn’t you tell us about all that earlier?” He asks instead and hopes that there’s no admonishment in his voice, because he really doesn’t want it to sound like he blames him for anything.

“Maya said not to.” Mac sniffles again and rubs his nose, smearing the back of his hand with snot, and Amy has a handkerchief drawn to wipe it as quickly as only she can. “She said she has to be the ‘bigger person’. ‘N I said she should punch him instead but she didn’t want to, so I did.”

Putting aside the fact that their second-grader has definitely picked up lingo that she’s nowhere close to old enough to really understand, he’s glad that at least one of their kids was decidedly against a violent approach - however fitting it would be in this situation.

“Okay, Maya was right that you shouldn’t hit people, unless you have to protect yourself.” Jake vividly remembers that heated discussion about principles in parenting he’d had with Amy not long ago, that ended in his ridiculous argument of ‘so if you’re getting kidnapped and the only way out would be to throw a punch you wouldn’t do it?’ and reminding her of the several times she’s actually punched him in mistaken self-defense before. It had convinced her to agree with him, though.

“But if someone is being that mean to you or her and bullying you like that, you definitely should tell someone who can help.” Amy finishes for him. “Even if you’d promised not to say anything.”

Jake nods at the same time as Mac, and they look so similar that she can’t help but smile, as inappropriate as it might be for the situation.

“I’m sorry I started a fight.” Mac mumbles again.

“It’s okay.” Jake answers a bit too fast, and Amy’s raised eyebrows in his direction tell him more than enough. “I mean, it’s not great. And it’s good that you’re apologising. But I’m glad you stood up for your sister and protected her.”

Now Amy nods to that, and Jake’s knees ache only a little bit as he gets up after crouching down for so long.

“Tell you what. Maya’s classes are over by now, so what do you say we go pick her up and go to Sal’s for dinner?”

It only takes seconds for a bright smile to finally, finally break across their son’s face as he jumps up and Jake tells him to get his backpack from the other end of the classroom. Amy sidles up to him and nudges his elbow.

“Sal’s, really?” She says almost inaudibly, but Jake can hear the exasperated amusement.

“What?” He whispers back. “I think he deserves a reward far more than a punishment.”

“You only say that because you would’ve punched Dennis too.”

“Well, let’s see how bad Maya’s arm really is and then I decide if he deserved the bloody nose.”

“Alright, let’s not get carried away. You go tell Ms. Hernandez what happened and Mac and I pick up Maya in the meantime.” Amy only mumbles as Mac bounces back towards them.

After Sal’s and an entire Meat Supreme at display temperature for Jake, Mac and Maya (and one slice of spinach & feta for Amy), they watch their two little ones settle down in front of the tv for the one allowed nighttime episode of Adventure Time, Mac holding a small bag of frozen peas to his black eye, Maya snuggling into him on his other side and beaming up at her big brother from time to time.

“If we tell your mum about this”, Jake grins at Amy across the kitchen island where she’s busy making hot chocolate because apparently she agrees on the reward-over-punishment thing too, “I bet she’s gonna send them like a pound of turrón each.”

“We’re not telling my parents any of this, or my dad is going to have Dennis expelled from school or something equally over the top.”

“Hate to agree with Victor about anything, but I do think-”

Luckily Amy pushes a marshmallow into Jake’s mouth so he can’t finish whatever stupid joke he was going to make.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #mac peralta #Maya peralta #fic #my writing

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starry-seongmin · 4 years

Text

The Genius Plan - 02′ Liners ft K

themes: crack, fluff?

warnings: none

words: 2.3k+

The gym was silent. Three of the boys were sitting and having an existential crisis. Not just having existential crisis but contemplating life itself and why were they just so goddamn stupid. Why didn’t they think before speaking and why they weren’t being swallowed by the ground. “I can’t believe you two dragged me into this”, Sunghoon let out a groan, glaring at Jay and Jake from the corner of his eyes.

Meanwhile, their two friends were stuck between making fun of them and helping them. They really outdid themselves for sure this time. Euijoo was trying to come up with a plan that would actually work for once while Nicholas was coming up with various ideas, each one more ridiculous than the previous one.

Now what led to this scene? What actually happened which left Jay, Jake and Sunghoon wanting to jump off the roof of their school?

Well, it all began a couple of days ago on an ordinary school day. Well, as ordinary it can be for the five of them.

Nicholas, Jay, Euijoo and Jay (Sunghoon had taken a sick leave from school) entered their school premises and being the ultimate heart throbs of the school, they obviously had multiple eyes following them and people talking about them as they passed. No matter what gender you were or what your sexual orientation was, your eyes would automatically gravitate towards them. They had this presence about them that left people staring.

But they were complete idiots. And everyone was well aware of that fact. But did it stop them from staring at them? Absolutely not.

Eujoo was someone you would only see in a fictional world. Kind, charming, respectful, a gentleman, charismatic, soft and to top it all off handsome. He was too good to be true. And when he wore a sweater or a hoodie with long sleeves and had sweater paws? You could see everyone just gushing over how soft and cute he looked. He was part of the student council and was friends with everyone. Even the awkward and introverted people felt comfortable in his presence. He radiated warmth and softness. Ask anyone about him and they will keep telling you how nice he is. Like, is he even real? Definitely the type of person your parents will approve of.

Jay would consider himself as that mysterious bad boy which left people intimidated but impressed. Absolutely no one thought of him like that. He was a delusional person. Everyone knew he was a kind hearted and soft person who joked around and loved to make people smile. And of course, like his friends, he was also a complete idiot and not to mention at times, a piece of shit. But goddamn, he is one of the most competitive people you’ll ever meet. Everyone is aware of his R.A.S.

Nicholas is someone who at first impression looks like a bad boy with his resting bitch face. But when he smiles..oh boy..when he smiles it’s game over. It’s like rainbows appear and cherry blossoms bloom when he smiles. Once people get to know him they would see he is really just a dork who enjoys life. Like, Jay, he is also a piece of shit at times. He would get into trouble with Jay often and the both of them would end up in detention the most. Everyone knew he has the biggest obsession with Rain. Ask anyone and they will tell you of the time he met Rain and accidentally smelled him.

Jake is another one who is the softest and one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet. Is on good terms with everyone and many people stop to talk him especially to hear his accent. His accent leaves everyone bursting the phattest uwus. His friends are over protective of him and everyone knows that. If someone does him dirty, Jay, Nicholas, Sunghoon and yes, even Euijoo will not hesitate to fight them. But no one wants to fight him in the first place. Another one who your parents will approve of.

Sunghoon, now he’s actually the one who intimidates everyone the most and he is not quite aware of it. Absolute prince like features. You will be surprised that there are no woodland creatures and birds surrounding him and singing. He’s the one who people don’t really interact with because of his cold features. Even though everyone knows that when he smiles and laughs, he looks like an absolute angel which calms their nerves a bit and encourages them to approach him even though they’re still a bit hesitant. Also known as the ‘Ice Prince’ because everyone knows how he rules the ice skating rink. You would’ve been living under a rock if you didn’t know about his talents.

Okay back to the story…

Jake walked to his first class which he shared with Euijoo. The teacher had not arrived yet and as the two entered their class, they greeted everyone as they made their way to their seats.

A shadow loomed over them, specifically over Jake and the two friends ceased their conversation to look up at a girl who was smiling shyly at them, her hands behind her back. Noticing her awkwardness, both of them smiled at her and she visibly relaxed. “Hi! do you need help?” Euijoo asked the girl who shook her head. “I just wanted to give this…little gift to Jake”, her timid voice barely made it to their ears but the little present she placed on their desk confirmed their speculation.

“Oh..”, Jake didn’t know what to say even though this wasn’t the first time someone gave confessed to him directly or indirectly. “Thank you, I really appreciate it but I can’t return your feelings…I’m sorry”, Jake smiled apologetically, letting the girl down easily. Her expression faltered but she put on a smile again. One which was just as awkward as her previous one. “That’s okay, I understand. You can still keep it”, she replied before taking her leave, waving at the two boys.

“Now how many of these do you have?”, Euijoo turned to Jake who was inspecting the wrapping. “This will be my fifth from this week”, he replied.“I feel so horrible when I have to let someone down.”, he sighed, carefully putting the gift in his bag. “At least she took it well”, Euijoo commented. Both the boys shuddered as they recalled those who made a scene or cried after being rejected.

Later in the day, during recess, Euijoo was on class duty so only Nicholas, Jay and Jake were sitting at their usual place. “Listen, I know what can put a stop to all those confessions and you two breaking people’s heart”, Nicholas proclaimed out of the blue, and quite proudly, at the dejected two who were looking at the confessions they had received today quite guiltily. Nicholas’ words piqued their interest and the two boys shifted their eyes to Nicholas who was stuffing a whole muffin in his mouth.

When he had swallowed the mouthful ever so gracefully, a small smirk made it’s way and he shifted closer to the two boys, leaning forward. As if something was pulling them closer, both Jay and Jake found themselves leaning forward in anticipation to what genius plan their friend had come up with.

“Pretend you’re already in a relationship”

And that my dear folks, was the idea of the year. The idea of all ideas. The very idea which led the five boys to where they are now.

Euijoo was mentally prepared to hold back Sunghoon from attacking them especially Jay. He was also mentally prepared to hold back Jay from attacking both Nicholas and Jake. And the poor boy was already mentally prepared to protect Jake from Jay’s wrath.

“What happened?”, a different yet familiar voice chimed in. All five boys were welcomed by the sight of a friend, a senior from their own school who had long graduated. “Kei hyung..”, Eujoo sighed in relief, thankful that someone more mature and older was there to keep the boys in check before any of them got knocked out.

Nicholas looked like he was dying to spill everything to the oldest boy. He was fighting off a laugh that was on the verge of escaping from his lips and his eyes were glinting with nothing but mischief. He was not even the slightest bit of guilty that it was his ‘fool-proof, one of a kind idea’ that got them in here in the first place.”

But before Nicholas could say anything to the confused K, Jay started complaining about the whole incident and thus, rained on Nicholas’ parade. It felt as if the boy had no plan on stopping and taking a breath with the way his mouth was moving. K, seemed very amused and was sporting a small smile.

“Okay so it all started with us getting confessions everyday to the point we were tired of rejecting people and breaking their hearts. And our genius here, Sir Wang Yixiang the First came up with the spectacular idea of us pretending to be in a relationship to put stop to all this.” Jay stopped to finally take a breath. Sunghoon, however, was not going to stay silent.

“Well, if Nicholas’ idea was genius than your idea was just out of this world wasn’t it!?” he cried out. K turned his head to Jay who seemed very quiet after Sunghoon brought him up. “What was your idea?”, K, it seemed was secretly finding the whole ordeal very entertaining as his eyes were swimming with humour.

“I…”, Jay couldn’t bring himself to speak and thus admitting his..now that he thought of it..it was actually stupid. “I told the people I was dating Sunghoon”, he finally admitted, swallowing his pride. K coughed to hide the slip of his chuckle and Euijoo was biting his lip, trying not to laugh. Nicholas, however, was utterly shameless as he started giggling which then turned into loud laughter. Jake, it seemed, was finding Nicholas’ laughter far hilarious than the situation itself as the boy hid his smile by covering it with his hand.

“Oh you’re laughing now?? Wait till you hear what our Jakey has to say”, Jay cried out, trying his best to save the remainder of his dignity. Jake choked when all attention was on him, face reddening. Suddenly he found his shoes the most interesting thing this universe had to offer. “Don’t be shy..tell hyung what you told the school..come on”, Jay prodded him.

Jake opened his mouth and mumbld something which K couldn’t make out at all. After being teased by Nicholas to speak up and embrace it, Jake finally took a deep breath and -

“I panicked and told the school I was dating Jay”

K had to sit down for this because if he didn’t his legs would’ve given away from how hard he was laughing. Nicholas was now on the floor, holding onto his stomach, Euijoo letting out adorable giggles and even Sunghoon managed to smile. Jay however was pinching the bridge of his nose, sighing and trying his best not to let his emotions take over him and poor Jake was smiling shyly.

“Where were all of you when this happened?”, K asked now that he had regained his composure and breath although, body still shaking. “I was with Jake when he announced his alleged relationship on a fine Tuesday during Literature class.” Euijoo replied, his arm around Jake for comfort. “And before they could tell us about it, Jay had already spoken about his ‘relationship’ with Sunghoon”, Nicholas continued, patting Sunghoon’s back.

K turned to face Sunghoon who looked exhausted. “What about you?”

“I was at home. Sick!”, he exclaimed. “Do you know how it feels when you come to school after a day and find out that you are now in a poly relationship which you weren’t aware about!?” the boy was hysteric. “And with them of all people!? I mean Jake is okay I guess..but Jay!? Hell no!”

“Hey!”, Jay looked extremely offended. “I would make a great boyfriend, okay? Way better than Jake!”, he protested. “Are you even hearing yourself right now!?”, Sunghoon couldn’t believe his ears. “Why are you guys laughing!?”, he turned to the audience of four who were in hysterics.

“why do comedy shows even bother”, Euijoo giggled. “They can never top this”.

“I can’t wait to tell the others of this”, K wheezed. Sunghoon and Jay immediately sobered up. “Hyung, you won’t”, Jay’s small voice of betrayal made the Japanese boy stop and stare at him. He was really like a younger brother to him and K knew that he’d do anything for him just to see him happy. “I most definitely will”.

The face Jay made was one for the books. The face of utter shock and betrayal. It felt like he was stabbed in the heart multiple times. “I thought you were my brother”

“Shouldn’t you be concerned that the whole school thinks you’re in a poly relationship?”, K teased. “But that’s Nicholas’ fault! It was his idea in the first place!” Jay whined, glaring at the Taiwanese boy.

“Hey, I only shared my idea. In no way I said that you two should act on it. It was just an idea, a suggestion merely. It’s the both of yours fault to follow it.”, he brushed off the accusation. Jay, it seemed was not willing to brush it off so easily as he pounced on the unsuspecting boy and captured him in a headlock.

Nicholas cried out for the others for help but no one bothered to except for Sunghoon, who stood up and walked to the two of them. However, as Nicholas had anticipated, Sunghoon didn’t even try to help him. Oh no..he wanted his share of revenge too.

So, he sat on the floor and made himself comfortable before attacking Nicholas. With tickles. To Nicholas, it felt his end was near, thrashing around like a fish out of water. A couple of minutes later, all three of them were on the floor, breathing heavily. “So am I forgiven?”, Nicholas asked tentatively, between his heavy pants.

“We’ll see”, both Jay and Sunghoon replied in unison.

Nicholas groaned, knowing he was done for. But was he going to learn from this?

Definitely not.

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aelin-queen-of-terrasen · 4 years

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤

Rowaelin modern AU ▶ Masterlist

note: before you start, my sincerest apologies to your heart. i tried to postpone the real angst for as long as I could; this made my heart hurt.

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Aelin Galathynius didn't know what possessed her when she let Lysandra drag her to a party on school night. She didn't know how her best friend had managed to convince Aedion to throw a god damned party in his house. She didn't know why she called up Rowan to extend the invitation, and she certainly didn't understand why she was still disappointed he couldn't make it.

She'd managed to hide her marks from Arobynn and he'd been too drunk to remember anything of use himself. She'd be surprised if he knew his own name with the condition he was in.

That was one of the reasons she was out tonight: it was rare that Arobynn wasn't home and rarer that he was home and too gone inside his head to give two fucks about where Aelin went. She planned to make the most of it.

"What are you thinking about so hard?" Dorian asked, drinks in both hands. He offered her one.

Aelin accepted it, already having lost count of the amount of alcohol she'd consumed. "Mm, can't wait to turn eighteen and move out of the damn house." She didn't like the way Dorian looked back at her, with pitiful eyes. But it was soon replaced with his usual dazzling smile.

"Where is Sam?" he asked.

Aelin furrowed her eyebrows. "He's here?" She'd been hanging around the diner a lot since he asked her out. He was going to ask her to be his girlfriend soon, she could tell.

It was a strange realisation. His advances were far from unwanted, she liked it. She liked him. But there was no excitement, no ecstacy. Her face didn't light up with a smile every time she saw him. That was just all of Lysandra's romance talk getting to her.

She tried not to be envious of her cousin and her best friend. It was hard when they looked at each other like no one else existed. She thought dating Sam would quell that discontentment but it only worsened when she realised that even though she was in a relationship, she didn't feel any of those things her friend gushed about.

Maybe Lysandra had exaggerated.

Or maybe she was broken?

Aelin wasn't an idiot.

She saw how Sam looked at her, at least. It was the same lovesick look on Aedion's face. It just didn't make her stomach flip in excitement.

God, she was too sober for this.

Aelin refilled her cup, then went to find her soon to be boyfriend. He grinned when his eyes fell on her. "I've been searching for you. You should've told me you were coming here tonight." The words were delivered in a joking manner, though she could detect a hint of hurt beneath them.

She smiled apologetically. "It was a last minute plan. Plus, I didn't think this was your scene."

Before their conversation could turn even more awkward, she was interrupted by a familar voice. "Oh. Hi, Sam. Aelin." She turned towards Rowan, grinning like a fiend.

"I thought you weren't coming."

Rowan said, "I wouldn't have."

"Then why did you?" she quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Fenrys dragged me out here." Her smile dimmed a little at his words. What else did she want to hear? He added: "I figured if you started throwing vases at people again, I'd better be there to capture it in a video."

Aelin gasped. "Did Rowan Whitethorn just make a joke? A historical moment."

Rowan rolled his eyes. Sam was engaged in a conversation with someone from his school when she turned around. So Aelin accompanied her friend to get more drinks with every intention to return to her unofficial boyfriend. But one drink turned into more until she was hammered.

Rowan remained a dedicated babysitter by her side all through the night.

Aelin laughed and danced and sang and drank and danced some more. When it was time for everyone to leave, most of her group decided to crash on the couches in Aedion's living room, none of them wanting to go back home, exhausted as they were.

She convinced Rowan to stay with them, even though he was sober and fell asleep snuggled next to him on the couch. Sam Cortland didn't cross her mind even once until she woke up to a text from him: You disappeared through the party and won't pick up your phone so I returned home. Sorry. Hope you had fun. She told herself it was all the alcohol. She would have remembered him otherwise, and that he must not have tried to search for her hard enough. But then why did she feel so guilty?

Aelin Galathynius didn't know how a day could possibly worsen more.

──────✧❅✦❅✧──────

She woke up on Aedion's couch, her head throbbing and her limbs groaning in pain. Her neck and back muscles hurt everytime she moved. Adding to her agony, she had cheerleading practice in her third period. That meant more muscle exertion. By the time recess came, she was ready to burst into tears.

Except it was about to be worse.

After lunch, she and Rowan made their way to class only to discover they would be working in groups of four. Since they were the last ones to enter, the two of them were grouped together with the only two students left: Chaol Westfall and an exchange student, Elide Lochan.

Rowan gave her a sympathetic look as they drew their chairs together.

The four of them stared at each other uncomfortably. Elide broke the silence. "Sooo what topic are we doing?"

Even Aelin, right in her element, couldn't think of something. She suggested topics off the top of her head but they were all overused. Everytime she tried to focus, she felt her ex boyfriend's eyes on her and her mind turned blank. Should she talk to him like they were friends or pretend they were strangers?

She opted for the latter.

After some discussion, they decided on a topic and their roles. Aelin walked up to the teacher's desk to claim their topic when her ex boyfriend followed. She wanted to shout at him. He hadn't once tried to talk to her in the two months after their breakup and now that she was moving on, he wanted in. She didn't want to hear what he had to say. Not now, not yet.

He shook his head. "If you'd just listen to me once, Ace—" Rowan interrupted them, calling her name.

Aelin shot him a grateful smile as she returned to their seats, directing her attention towards the dark-haired girl with them. Aelin liked Elide Lochan. She was smart, funny and kind as far as she could tell. She listened without judgement, and had a lot of interesting things to add herself.

──────✧❅✦❅✧──────

Aelin had been right in introducing her friends to Elide. She was shy at first, but all of them were accommodating enough that she got comfortable, sitting between Lysandra and her.

Aelin reserved a seat beside her, she didn't know why. It was a pleasant surprise when Rowan ditched his usual corner seat and asked, "Is this seat taken?" Heat rushed to her cheeks and it was all she could do to nod.

She liked having Rowan close. His presence calmed her nerves. Only last period, thrice Chaol tried to start a conversation with her, and thrice Rowan quieted him down.

After calming her heart, Aelin asked, "Where's Lorcan?"

A deep voice said from behind her, "Here, of course," and there he stood, lunch tray in hand and dark eyes fixed on the girl sitting in his chair.

Elide noted with surprise all the chairs on their table were occupied. "Oh—uh, you can sit here, I'll bring, uh, another."

Lorcan smiled.

Either Aelin was having a ridiculous, strangely vivid dream or the sun had risen from the west because Lorcan smiled at a stranger. And gods, that was a faint blush on his cheeks.

She grinned. "Fuck, no! Wait. I'll move; Lor, you sit here." There he sat.

Aelin pushed Rowan's lunch tray into his lap, climbing on the table in front of him. She kicked off her heels, then crossed her legs and placed her own lunch tray in front of her. Elide fit right in with the rest of them, listening with a small smile and adding her own accounts of things occassionally. If the rest of her friends noticed Lorcan paying extra attention to the lunch conversation, no one mentioned it.

"Didn't know you play matchmaker too," Rowan told her.

Her lips twitched upwards. Aelin Galathynius looked down at him from her position with an expression that was borderline inappropriate, she said, "I'm a woman of many talents, Mr. Whitethorn. Many talents."

Rowan's answering blush was everything she'd hoped for.

──────✧❅✦❅✧──────

Aelin Galathynius entered her house, the quiet making her heart ache.

She expected Arobynn to be passed out on the couch where he ended up every morning after a night of spending her inheritance away on drinks and gambling. But Arobynn wasn't there.

He's not home, she told herself. He probably passed out somewhere.

And then there were footsteps. A red-haired man stepped into the living room, sidestepping all the empty bottles on the floor. He wasn't drunk, he looked very much sane. She didn't like that. When he was drunk, it was easier to slip past him. He didn't care about her existence and that was the best she could hope for.

But he wasn't drunk and she didn't know what he planned to do.

Heart racing fast, Aelin spared a look towards the stairs. If she could run fast enough and make it to her room, she'd lock herself inside. But what was to stop him from coming inside after her? The locks weren't strong enough to keep him out for more than a few minutes—

"Don't think about running, Aelin. I want to talk, nothing more," Arobynn warned.

Talk. She didn't believe that for a second. Aelin looked at him, then at the stairs and then at the phone in her hand. She could lock herself inside, then call Aedion or Lorcan or someone. She needed to buy herself time.

"Aelin, stop!"

Aelin made a run for it, tripping on the red carpet that stank of alcohol. It had been her mom's favourite once. She fell face first on the table, the sharpened corner making a cut across her cheek. She swore out loud, her phone fell away from her. She ran towards the closest door from her position, struggling with the lock in her panic.

Arobynn stuck his foot between the door, trying to open it again. She'd once known him to be a kind, caring man. In a different world, where she didn't have to hide inside her house and her biggest problem had been the homework she needed to submit the next day, where her parents still lived and this house wasn't a reminder of everything she'd lost. Sweat beads formed on her forehead and the back of her neck; Aelin pulled the door close with all the strength she had. She locked the door, pushed the drawer with toiletries in front of it and slumped against the wall.

The adrenaline faded, tears rolling down her cheeks and the fear set in.

"Open the door, Aelin," Arobynn said. She hated his voice. "Open the fucking door if you know what's good for you."

She realised with a jolt her phone was still outside, then slowed her breathing down, arms wrapped around her knees.

Eventually, his shouts quieted down. Aelin couldn't tell if he was still there or not but she didn't dare check. She washed the blood away from her face. The sobs subsided but the tears didn't leave the whole night. Sleep didn't come to her at all. It was in the morning, when there was still no sign of Arobynn being home that she sneaked out of the bathroom, heart thumping inside her chest that she left the room.

She grabbed her phone, then ran towards her room. Once she made sure it was locked, she turned her phone on. Ignoring all the missed calls from her friends, she dialled the first number she could. "Aelin, you know how I feel about you not picking your phone. I thought the worst, god—"

"Aedion?" a sob escaped her mouth.

"Yes? Are you okay?"

"Aedion," her voice came out coarse and much softer than she intended, "Please—I can't—Can you pick me up?"

Aedion barked a curse in the background. "Of course, I'm coming. I'll be there in a few minutes, ok? Don't end the call—" his words were drowned out when someone knocked on her door.

"You can't dodge me forever, Aelin."

Aelin sank to her knees, vision growing unfocused as more tears escaped. Before her cousin could arrive, her world went black.

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I'm trying real hard to resist my inner wattpader and not make this a cliche so y'all better appreciate my efforts.

tags:

@thesirenwashere // @courtofjurdan //@fangirltrash74 // @the-dark-swan // @queenofgreenbriar // @clockworkgraystairs // @julemmaes // @rowaelinforeverworld // @mymultiversee // @queen-of-glass // @strangely-constructed-soul // @mijaldraws // @http-itsrebecca // @aesthetics-11 // @lord-douglas-the-third // @flowersinvegas // @towhateverend17 // @aelinchocolatelover // @justabunchoffandoms // @cool-ish-nerd // @faerie-queen-fireheart // @sad-book-whore // @didsomeonesayviolin // @atozfantazyxx // @hizqueen4life // @the-gods-killer // @booknerdproblems // @annejulianneh111 // @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln // @b00kworm // @mysweetvillain // @curlyredqueen06 // @moondancer-204 // @thesurielships // @witchling-leonor // @ladywitchling // @amren-courtofdreams // @ifinallygavein // @jlinez // @faequeenaelin // @df3ndyr // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @bitchy-knees // @superspiritfestival // @xx-fiona-xx // @stardelia // @maastrash // @miihlovesnoone // @totenhamboys20

there's so many people whose tags won't work, I feel bad, I'm sorry.

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blushing-starker · 3 years

Note

hiii darling!! saw you were a bit desperate for smth sweet and good so!!💗💗

i’ve sent this prompt to jae before, but i still adore the idea of little peter being in daycare and developing a fever! and daddy tony brings him to daddy stephens practice where he works as a family doctor. and so lil peter gets examined by his own daddy and cries in the cutest and most heart aching way when dada gives him an injection to bring down his fever🥺🌡

but tony comforts him of course!

“dada had to do that so you’ll feel better, baby.”

“i’ll see you later today at home, petey. i’ll bring you something yummy from the store, okay? now, go along with papa and cuddle loads with him till i get back home. that’s doctor dada’s orders.” - raf🐇

here you go! The first part while I crank out the second part. I know you read it already but I wanted to at least post it. Thanks for sending me the ask dear! I really appreciate it! 💓

It starts on Monday in the sandbox during recess. Peter doesn't really hang out in the small park right next to the classroom, prefers the cool temperature of the library where Miss Maria often turns a blind eye to his antics involving a screwdriver and the dismantling of any electronic device he and Ned can get their hands on. MJ, just a year older, is halfway sure the librarian purposely leaves old toys on the lowest shelf, but she isn't a snitch and it's, don't tell anyone though, fun to spend time watching the two boys figure out a way to pry open clocks.

His daddies are overjoyed their boy is like them, enamoured by how things work and how they could improve such things with the minimum of resources. In fact, Tony cried while talking over the phone with his mother, eager to tell Maria how her grandson replaced the wheel of a car the daycare was about to throw out in a few days. Peter, ever vigilant, had run to his daddy, afraid he was hurt or sad. He'd thrust the car into Tony's hand to make him feel better and Stephen's absolutely ridiculous husband sobbed harder while nearly suffocating their child in a hug. Maria sent Tony's old engineering kit from when he was a child and their Kleenex ran out the minute Peter wandered over to poke at it.

Stephen shouldn't tease Tony too much. After all, the doctor spent more time bragging about his little boy's intelligence than he did discussing his patients’ conditions. And maybe, just maybe, he sobbed in the bathroom when Ned came for a sleepover and loudly proclaimed his best friend had comforted another classmate when they fell and hurt their knee. Apparently, Peter had sent Ned to warn Miss Wanda while he calmly explained that all they had to do was elevate the area, clean with soap, wrap a Hello Kitty bandaid on the wound, get ice on it and be attentive to any signs of fever.

The whole thing was exactly, word for word, what Stephen had told Peter when his boy tripped on the sidewalk and roughed up a knee. Tony found him sniffling while cleaning out old anatomy books that suspiciously appeared in Pete's bedroom the next day.

They don't talk about it. But now the whole family has a bet on what the young boy's profession will be.

Yes, his daddies are happy he's shown an interest in their fields of study. Yes, they want him to explore and learn and have fun with different subjects. Thing is, they also know how important it is for a child to go outside and play with others. An intake of vitamin D was very good for a growing boy.

(That's bull, they would have gladly given ten thousand toys to Maria Hill for her to leave around the library so the trio could dismantle them. But then Miss Wanda cornered them in the hall and told them that no, Peter also needs a bit of sun and some interactions with people besides Ned, MJ and Shuri, a girl from another group who also liked the library. They begrudgingly agreed.)

So Monday morning after waffles drenched with too much syrup Stephen chooses to ignore are devoured by two sets of grabby hands, Peter’s daddies gently suggest he spend a few minutes playing outside with the others.

Peter pauses, screwdriver in midair and toy car set down on the table with careful movements. There's a little furrow between his brows, so identical to Stephen's that Tony wants to kiss both his boys for being the cutest people in the world. He refrains from doing so because ‘Peter needs to know when we're being serious, Tony, and that means no kisses during serious conversations’.

“Have,” oh no, their boy is chewing his lip, abort mission, abort, “have I been bad, dadas?”

Tony accidentally rams his elbow into his husband's ribs when pouncing on Peter and Stephen is very close to considering divorce. “No! No, baby, you've been good all month. Promise. Daddy and dada just want you to get a bit of sun, play around with the others for a few minutes and then sneak off into the library.”

“ Tony, that isn't what we agreed, oh Christ. “ This elbow jab was on purpose. Stephen stumbles out his chair, muffles the curse words against the kitchen counter while his horrible partner cradles Pete's face and presses kisses all over the boy desperately trying not to stab his daddy with the screwdriver.

“Don't listen to dada, you can spend five minutes out and then visit Miss Hill.”

“ Who? “ That scrunch is back and Tony loves Peter more than anything in the world. Well. No, he loves kissing Peter more than anything in the world. The boy giggles, reciprocates as much as he can until Tony cheats and tickles soft skin under a cotton sweater.

“Miss Maria, Tony. They call her by her first name instead of the last name. I'm getting some ice. Jesus, do you sharpen that thing?”

------

He can be a good boy. He's a good boy. Five minutes outside. Peter can be outside while Ned’s in the bathroom and MJ heats up her lunch for the day.

(Ned and Pete had the daycare mac and cheese; their bestie preferred homemade pizza.)

It's not that he dislikes the park; it's a cool park! There are slides and hiding spots and swings and trees for shade and the wheel that they're only allowed to be on if the teacher's controlling the speed. But the library is always slightly cold and full of adventure.

Sometimes they read a Star Wars book series laid on the floor in a circle with blankets and pillows Miss Maria brings them. If the trio feels tired, Shuri invites them over to the movie area her friends have set up with Disney films queued up. When their spirits are higher, electronics prepare to be dismantled.

Still. He can be good. And, besides Flash who doesn't really get along with him, all of Peter's classmates are nice and fun. The only problem is where to spend, Loki!

Peter runs to the sandbox, jumps over the bridge to a slightly odd looking Loki that's waving his hands in a general ‘no, don't run at me, slow down’ motion. He's too excited to not tackle the teenager that helps Miss Wanda during recess by entertaining twenty kids with wild tales full of magic and wonder.

Hands that never warm up that much immediately curl around a small body and there's a weakened chuckle buried in Peter's fluffy hair. “Hello, little puppy. Odd seeing you without your two companions. Odd seeing you at all, really, since that cute nose of yours is always buried in a toy or book.”

Pete smashes his face into a soft shirt, loves how safe Loki makes him feel with his hugs and hair ruffling. He likes Thor, too, although he prefers the younger brother a lot more. Which Stephen says is a bit unfair since the only reason Thor can't hang out with him as much as Loki does is because the blonde trains during recess with Sif and the others in the wrestling team.

Loki can change his voice a lot; a gift very few have, Peter's grandma once mentioned, and even fewer people use it well. Miss Wanda tries to take them to all the school plays so they can cheer on the others and break routine, but the first graders are very adamant on which theatre kid they love most. Thor's brother could paint the air and make even the most boring speech exciting to hear. Peter was obsessed, dragged his daddies to every play Loki was in and pleaded for a picture afterward. Not that he had to ask for long; the youngest of three would often take multiple shots with Peter before anyone else could even come close to him.

You could say Pete was Loki's number one fan. Which meant he knew how to distinguish between Loki's voices. After the face smashing ritual, he peeled away to squint at cheeks too pale and eyes too red. Relatively tiny fists curled around black cloth.

“Are you hurt, Loki?”

“Not at all, sweet puppy. I'm just sick. Thor and I went back home on Saturday and we seem to have caught a cold. Which is why it's probably better you don't stand so close, wouldn't want you getting sick. My parents decided we should stay home, but I left one of my books here, the one about Viking stories, remember, last Friday and came to pick it up. “

He remembers the book, a heavy thing with a leather cover and wolves drawn on pale paper every few pages. The story about Thor dressing up and tricking the giants is Peter's favorite. Imagining his Thor wear a bride's veil tends to make him giggle.

“So I can't have a kiss?” He pouts, peers at Loki through dark eyelashes, even wobbles a pink lip when it looks like he won't get what he wants. It works as soon as tears cloud his eyes. Like daddy, like son.

The teen sighs, leans down to plant a single kiss on Peter's forehead when a classmate nearby falls into the pit, sand goes up Loki's nose and the dark haired boy sneezes all over Peter.

-------

It takes an hour for him to start sniffling and complain about cotton in his head. Thirty minutes after that, Ned catches him wiping a runny nose with a sleeve. Said sleeve is completely drenched in less than a class’ duration. Miss Wanda calls Tony in to pick his boy up during a midday meeting he couldn't care less about as soon as the teacher says ‘it looks like a cold and he shows symptoms of a fever’.

He probably breaks ten driving laws in the span of fifteen minutes, but that's insignificant when you're friends with Mayor Rogers and your husband fixes up the arm of one Mr Rogers-Buchanan. Tony crashes into the principal's office, deflates with relief when he sees principal Fury teaching Peter how to unscrew a cabinet infamous for being creaky.

“And now I spray a little oil so it doesn't make the weird noises?”

“ That's right, now we take the can, spray just a tiny bit, like I showed you, that's good. Remember to always have a paper towel nearby in case it drips. Those are some very nice pants you have on and I'd hate to see them stained. “ Peter sticks his tongue out, carefully dabs under the oiled up hinge, motions a fond looking Fury to hand him the screwdriver, and gets to work.

Tony leans against the doorway, shushes his friend and Peter's godmother, Nat, when she comes in with coffee for Fury. They stay there, take it all in and realize Pete's growing up. They also realize they might win the bet.

“Ow! Gosh darn it, pinched my finger while getting the cabinet adjusted.” Fury sucks his finger, is probably running through much darker curse words in his head when Peter gently plucks his finger out and presses it against the cold side of a water bottle Miss Wanda most likely gave him to help the fever.

“Ice helps the inflammation, principal Fury. If it doesn't go down, and I don't think it will cuz this is just cold and doesn't have any ice in it, you should eat a snack and take some medicine. “ Tony swears he's never seen Fury more proud or pleased than in that moment.

“Your daddy tell you that, Peter?’

“ Oh no, sir. Daddy can't really, uh, his mind is too busy thinking about building robot bodies to think about human bodies. Don't tell anyone, but grandma says she saw him put butter on his elbow after he knocked it on the door. “

“Really? How old was he? Maybe he was small and didn't know any better.”

“ That was last week, principal Fury. Dada's the one that taught me all about the human body. Daddy couldn't figure out our medicine cabinet with an instructions manual and a Youtube tutorial. “

Tony clears his throat while Fury’s busy howling against the carpeted floor and Natasha cackles on her way to the infirmary.

“Hey, baby. Daddy's here to take you to dada’s.”

#peter parker #tony stark #stephen strange #ironstrange #starkerstrange #little!peter #daddy!tony #dada!stephen #awesome facial bros #my writing #rafni bunny

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twiistedgalaxies · 3 years

Text

Genesis: Chapter 6: Pill Capsules and Scrambled Eggs

How two brothers can take two opposite paths. How a man can be made into a monster and how the other must pay the ultimate price to save everything he knows and loves.

Or, alternatively:

The origins of All for One and One for All.

Previous Chapter

First Chapter

Tomura held the smooth, plastic pill organizer, running his finger along the compartment’s hinges. He opened the small, light purple lids with a satisfying click. The morning after he’d forgotten to take his medications on his first night at the orphanage, he had woken up to his brother launching the pill organizer at his head at top speed and with deadly precision. He’d decided not to ask where or how his brother was able to find one. Hisashi seemed to have decided not to tell him. It was a staple of their relationship, him not asking and his not telling. Something left over from their parents, Tomura guessed, all too used to Hisashi pulling cash from seemingly thin air whenever household funds ran thin. At the thought of his parents, Tomura felt the ever present, heavy weight of grief grow more unbearable. He swallowed, over a week later and he still couldn’t believe they were gone.

He laid out his pill bottles methodically, and set about the task of loading each compartment with his afternoon doses.

Sunday. He and his brother had spent last weekend sleeping in the damp holding cells of the police station until the department could figure out what to do with them. The thin sheet they’d each been given did little to fight off the biting cold, most of those nights were spent crying, or staring numbly at the ceiling’s spiderweb cracks. The officers were kind, but it was clear they wanted to be rid of him and his brother. Hisashi had been angry. It was a strange relief, seeing another so upset at his parents’ meeting their ends. The way the people around them reacted, it seemed like the ones who mattered most to them had never even existed. The world just carried on, uncaring.

Monday. They’d arrived at the orphanage. That day was a blur, he just remembered not liking the Matron and feeling apprehensive about the place that was clearly falling apart. He’s still sad he missed out on Monopoly.

Tuesday. His first day of class. He was given a nightmarishly thick classwork packet so he could catch up on classwork, nearly a week had passed and he was still whittling it down slowly between assigned chores. In class he had spitballs launched at him whenever the teacher had his back turned. At recess, no one seemed to want to play with him, giving him a sneer or a disgusted grimace whenever he approached. Instead of playing, he settled for sitting under a large oak tree, working on the drills and exercises in his homework packet. Tomura wasn’t surprised that his peers didn’t like him, no one wants a cripple to drag them down. It still stung though.

Wednesday. Hisashi and Leo must have noticed his dismal mood (despite his constant dodging of their questions) and pulled him aside after dinner to start their still ongoing game of Monopoly. The game was lasting for a ridiculously long time, and was getting stowed with all it’s pieces on a shelf in between sessions, strategically hidden under old textbooks to hide them from the other kids. Despite being glued to some clunky old phone the entire game, Hisashi was still winning by a landslide. This frustrated Tomura to no end, something that his brother’s friends found amusing.

Thursday. Tomura took up a small delivery job for the Matron in exchange for a little bit of spending money. Christmas was coming soon, and he was determined to buy his brother a gift, even if it was just something small.The task landed him in a shadier part of town, which was a particularly impressive feat in the eastern side of LA. He found himself in an old impound lot, filled to the brim with ancient rusting cars and dead shrubs. A squat shack sat in the center of the lot, looking abandoned and haunted, especially next to an imposing storage shed. When he knocked on the door, in the back of his mind he worried the peeling paint and chipping wood would imbed itself in his hand. Luckily, that didn’t happen. The door opened to reveal a scowling, gaunt looking man with sallow skin that looked crumpled like tissue paper.

The man spoke and Tomura couldn’t help but reel back at his terrible breath and rotting teeth, “You one ‘a Abra’s?” he asked.

Tomura nodded and quickly handed over the package he’d been given for this job. The man looked at it for a second, then at Tomura with a dissecting gaze. He shifted uncomfortably under his stare before he heard a grunt and had the door slammed in his face. Tomura blinked with surprise before promptly booking it out of there.

When he returned to the orphanage, the Matron gave him a few crumpled bills and a lecture for his trouble. Apparently she expected him to make nigh instantaneous deliveries. On foot. Going across town. He had to bite his tongue to keep from protesting and instead chose to vent to his older brother, who’s been looking increasingly exhausted, later that night.

Friday. Apparently he wasn’t the only person disliked by his peers, because as he was attacking the homework packet with vigour during recess he noticed three other kids, visibly metahumans, playing with marbles on the sidewalk. One kid looked like a lizard, another had hands that looked like they were coated in a metal alloy, and the last one’s skin seemed to shift colors with his mood. They were in the middle of their game when the kids who’d been launching spitballs and jeers at him throughout the week kicked over their marbles and a fight began to break out. Tomura was on his feet racing towards the group before he had time to think. Desperately, he tried to defend them, only to wind up in the matron’s office, given trash and gum duty for the next several weeks, as well as a particularly nasty black eye.

Later that night, he was woken up by the sounds of the matron arguing loudly on the phone in the common room. Something about payments, shipments, and inspections. It seemed like boring adult stuff, but he didn’t miss the fear in her eyes or the glistening sheen of sweat on her makeup covered face. He was barely able to duck back into his room and return to bed in time before she walked in to make sure the kids were all asleep.

Saturday. He and Hisashi started the day in the back of a filthy taxi, and then in the waiting room of a hospital as the staff got their mom’s room ready. Her withering, pale body hooked up to countless machines is an image that will be burned into his eyes forever, he thinks. The nurse told them that it was a miracle that she survived, but the damage sustained to her brain by the gunshot has rendered her effectively a vegetable. The visit was spent with Tomura desperately clutching her bony hand, talking between sobs, and his brother rubbing circles into his back. For being in a hospital the room was so, so loud. The sounds of the respirator and beeping of the heart monitor created an all-penetrating blanket of noise that had Tomura waking up from a dead-sleep later that night, breathless and in a cold sweat.

Tomura closed the pill organizer, once again enjoying that satisfying click. All of his pain medications were at their maximum dose. He’d been feeling sicker lately, and knew that he wouldn’t have long until his body grew used to the dosing and he’d be rendered incapacitated again. At this thought, he felt a burr of anxiety in his chest. He shoved it down, worrying wouldn’t help anything.

Double-checking his pill organizer one last time, Tomura made sure that all of his things were in order (and well hidden) before he made his way to the mess hall. For all he disliked about the orphanage, he could still appreciate the colorful slats of light the stained glass windows cast on their eating area. The mess hall was as rowdy and packed as usual today, and Tomura found himself wincing at the noise. He made his way to the seat his brother had carved out for himself among his peers.

The teen looked dead on his feet, dark bags under his eyes and surrounded by mysteriously obtained cups of coffee. It was an odd sight to see his normally well-manicured brother so dishevelled, Tomura was instantly worried.

“Hey ‘mura,” his brother greeted, though it came out as a half mumble.

“Are you okay?” he asked, sliding into the seat across from him.

“Peachy,” Hisashi replied, brightening when he saw his friends enter the room.

Tomura frowned at the obvious lie, “You’re clearly not fine, what’s wrong?”

Hisashi shifted in his seat visibly uncomfortable, “We all process grief in different ways, I’d really prefer if you didn’t keep pushing, it’s been a long week.”

Tomura nodded in understanding, feeling guilt twist at his stomach, “Sorry,” he grasped his brother’s hand across the table and looked him in the eyes, determined to reinforce his next words, “If you ever want to talk, I’m here, it doesn’t just have to be you who supports me, ya know?”

His brother let out a low hum, and jerked his head towards a table across the room, “It looks like the mutant brats you foolishly put yourself in harm’s way for are over there, if you want to go hang out with them.”

Tomura felt his eyes light up, despite his mild wince at the memory of the verbal reaming his brother gave him after that incident, and a smile stretched across his face. “Alright! I’ll catch you later, okay?” he finished that statement with a look that carried silent promise. We’ll continue this discussion later.

Hisashi smiled sardonically, “Of course.”

-@~*^*~@-

It had, in fact, been a long week. Hisashi smiled and bullshitted with the acquaintances he’d collected since landing in this barnacle of scum attached to an ever-sinking ship. He had spent the week, while confined to the orphanage, feeling for their mannerisms, expectations, and wants. It never hurt to cultivate future connections after all, even if they were rather irritating, and if their nightly Monopoly game served as a device to further these connections and goals as well as make his baby brother happy? All the better.

He yawned, the caffeine he’d been given as a cashed-in favor could only do so much. There was an increasingly familiar buzz in his pocket. He carefully kept his facial expression from changing. As he spoke about baseball or something equally trivial, his thoughts turned to the thorn in his side.

After making contact with Matt his first night at the orphanage, he was reached out to by an anonymous messenger. They asked him to perform a steep task. One that he wasn’t particularly willing to fulfill.

Unknown Number

Tuesday, 3:25am

[I need a favor.]

[How did you get this number?]

[We have a..]

[Mutual associate.]

[I see.]

Tuesday, 1:03pm

[So about the favor]

[Yes?]

[There's a pest that we need you to eliminate.]

[I assume that’s not all you intend for me to go off of.]

[Of course not.]

[I’d like to meet with you face to face before doing anything drastic.]

[Security concerns you see, I’m not going to

such efforts for someone I’ve never met.]

Wednesday, 11:00am

[Fine.]

[We’ve decided to meet with you.]

[Come to the old warehouse off West Beverly]

[You better be as good as we’ve been told you are.]

[Of course, only the best quality of service for my clients.]

[Be there at 1am sharp, Sunday morning.]

[See you then.]

Saturday, 9:00am

[Just confirming that you aren’t pussying out

on us.]

[Of course not.]

[How am I to know this is not a trap?]

[Don’t be an idiot, why would we ambush you if we

want something from you?]

Based on the use of “we” in their correspondences, it seems like he was dealing with an organization of some sort. That, or some petulant brats whose daddy hit them too much. Either way, he’d always met with his clients face to face to sort out the specifics of his deals. Just because he’d grown rusty doesn’t mean he’d grown stupid. Despite their placations, he knew that he could very easily be walking into a trap. Especially, since the mafia was involved. It’s because of this that he (unfortunately) had to exchange texts with Matt.

Pest

Thursday, 2:00pm

[I’m meeting with a client on Saturday.]

[Oh? So you’re finally taking on deals again?]

[A gif of Mushu from Mulan, clutching a sword

and talking to a cricket saying, “My little baby,

off to destroy people.”]

[Very funny.]

[I don’t know how trustworthy they are, so if I don’t

send you a text confirming my safety by Sunday night,

assume the worst. If anything bad happens I need you to

take care of my brother.]

[And I’m doing this because…?]

[If they do prove to be trustworthy, I can give you an in.]

[I know you’re always looking for new sources of information.]

[Alright, alright. I’m a man of my word. I’ll lend

you a hand.]

[I’ll hold you to that.] Seen

Dealing with Matt more than necessary was an.. undesirable outcome. However, Hisashi wasn’t so foolish as to enter a meeting, completely blind, with no back-up plan. At least this way he could ensure Tomura would be safe, even if something happened to himself. He was just about to dig into his eggs when the matron stepped up to the front of the room. As he continued to engage in pointless chatter, he watched her from the corner of his eye. This couldn’t be good.

“Ahem-hem,” the insufferable woman began. Her pointless throat clearing was drowned out in the noise that flooded the mess hall. He watched her pull her angular features into an often adorned scowl. She looked at those under her care as if they’d just taken a leak in her cereal.

“Excuse me,” she tried, once again ignored. Looking frustrated, she grabbed a nearby glass and spoon from a table and clinked them together loudly, finally forcing the room into silence, “First of all, I will not tolerate such insolence from those I house, feed and clothe. If it takes me this long to get everyone’s attention again, the consequences will be severe, understood?”

“Yes Matron Abra,” the children droned, sounding as if they were trying out for a funeral march ensemble.

“Good. Secondly, it has come to my attention that some of you have been making late night excursions,” she continued. Hisashi worked to keep his face schooled into a calm facade. He’d been going out each night to perform small jobs for Matt. Each time he went out, he was always careful. There had to be someone else slipping out as well, but who? The mess hall erupted into murmurs as his peers asked similar (and several more) questions. Matron Abra waited a few beats for the chatter to die down, then said, “As a result, the staff and I will be patrolling the hallways and making increased checks to the sleeping quarters. Within the week, we will be hiring on a security detail to ensure that everyone is ah,” her face split into a viscous grin, “safe and sound in their beds.”

Hisashi felt his brows knit together, how the hell could they afford a security detail when this place was falling apart? Then, it dawned on him as to how much of a hindrance these new measures would be, sneaking out was already a pain on it’s own, but with guards and frequent visits to the sleeping quarters? He’d have to start pulling out tricks he hasn’t used since he was in middle school. Well, fuck.

A/N: This is a bit of a filler chapter, since I didn't want Tomura to drop off the face of the Earth narrative-wise while Hisashi wakes up each day and chooses violence. As per usual, feel free to leave a comment, feedback helps me improve my writing! I don't have much else to say in this week's A/N, school has made me really tired and I want to take a forty-year long nap.

Edit: I think the formatting gods are smacking me with a stick today. First I was having issues with AO3 then tumblr decided my last paragraph needed to be at the top of the post.

AO3

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anxresi · 4 years

Text

Chloe’s Last Straw

Synopsis:

Chloe is guilty of many things in her life. But not this. Never this. So when her mother says something unforgivable to a person she'd usually consider an enemy, it's up to her to put things right. Grab your popcorn folks, and get ready for a roasting. Written for Blackout Tuesday.

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Caline Bustier sighed in exasperation, wondering how her once promising career as an educator had stuck her with this… the most ill-disciplined, out-of-control bunch of students she’d ever had to guide since her formative years as a kindergarten coordinator.

But even those young rapscallions had some level of respect for their elders, whereas the current batch of alleged ‘maturer’ teens…

They couldn’t even raise their heads for role-call in the morning.

“Max! Stop playing with that flying toy this second ! Mylene, Ivan… you can kiss each other during recess! Return to your desks now ! Nathanael! Put down those pencils and listen to me! Lila, I know you said you suffer from ADHD, but until I see a doctor’s note, I expect you to respond immediately when I call your name! Honestly, it’s like trying to herd cats! And where on Earth are…”

“I’m here! I’m here!!” As if in answer to her request, Adrien Agreste bustled in just then, out-of-breath and apparently with a ready-made excuse to explain his absence. “Dawn fashion shoot… then piano recital… early morning practice… stop me falling behind. A-Apologies Miss Bustier… you know how it is with my father…”

“Hmm, yes… I’m afraid I do .” The frowning teacher gave an understanding nod, for Gabriel Agreste’s huge expectations for his son often led to constant late arrivals for his son. “I would say ‘try not to let it happen again’, but something tells me it’s out of my hands. Oh well, at least you haven’t missed any actual lesson time this week. Go and sit down, please. Now I wonder where…”

“ Argh ! S-Sorry Miss! Mom got sick… and usually she handles the morning deliveries… so I had to take a quick detour on my way here… and…” bang

At least, that’s the sound effect there would’ve been, if a stumbling Marinette Dupain-Cheng hadn’t been caught by Adrien on her inevitable descent to the floor. Right place, right time.

Still didn’t stop her blushing like a stoplight though.

“A-Adrien!! Gulp. H-Hi. ” The blunette gave a passable impression of a fish out of water.

“Hey there! F-Funny the places we run into each other, isn’t it?” Adrien seemed equally struck for what he wanted to say.

“ Ahem !” That was the sound of an impatient teacher, who obviously had no romance in her soul and was eager to restart the headcount. “If you two are quite finished with your impromptu act, you can save it for the talent show next month. Take your respective seats so we can get on. Wait…”

Glancing at Adrien And Marinette’s chairs had revealed something unprecedented in the recent history of this hallowed halls of education. In fact, so unbelievable was it, Miss Bustier had to rub her eyes twice just to make sure what she saw wasn’t just another product of her espresso-infused imagination.

For it would appear as though young Agreste and Dupain-Cheng, by some measure the most tardy pupils Caline Bustier had ever known, were not among the last ones to arrive that incredible day.

No, that dubious honor belonged to none other than the students the aforementioned pair shared a desk with, namely Nino Lahiffe and Alya Cesaire.

W-What the… the panicking teacher’s look of astonishment was completely forgivable, as both Marinette and Adrien made good their escape. I’ve never known anything like this to happen before. It’s most unlike them. I just hope they’re okay. Maybe, if they’re not here soon, I should ask the headmaster if…

Miss Bustier’s short soliloquy was interrupted by an unpleasant shrieking noise as a familiar pair strode in. The high-pitched noise made the hairs on her neck stand on end and shattered the formerly serene atmosphere of the classroom once and for all.

“ Dahling . You know I wouldn’t go back to New York without saying goodbye to my precious Coraline, don’t you sweetheart? I might be away for quite a while this time, even past Christmas, but you understand, right? If I’m not there to personally introduce my new range of spangly negligees to the world at Fashion Week, my competitors might steal my thunder! I might even be bumped off the front page of Vogue! And you remember what I’ve told you every day, since the blessed occasion you were born, whenever that was…”

“Yes, mother. ‘If you’re not somebody, then you’re nobody.’ I get it. But do you ‘get’: my name isn’t ‘Coraline’, it’s Chloe . Coraline is that so-called kids movie we saw years ago, the one that was so scary I nearly wet… you know what, n-never mind.”

The loud screech of Audrey Bourgeois’s voice was almost enough to give poor Miss Bustier a migraine, as if the prospect of trying to teach her disruptive daughter good manners wasn’t difficult enough. Why did this have to be the one day I forgot to bring my aspirin to class with me? Tell me, what did I do to deserve this? Did I walk under a ladder yesterday? Did I crack a mirror, or step on a gypsy’s foot by mistake? Please, if I am cursed for whatever reason, let me know how I can fix it. For the love of…

“Mrs Bourgeois! What an unple… u-unexpected pleasure!” The rapidly unraveling teacher put on her fakest, friendliest face to welcome the surprise guest. “How are you? When was the last time we met? I seem to recall it was at the salon…”

“What was that? Who is this strange person heckling me, dear?” Audrey pulled down her shades to stare closer, as Chloe whispered in her mom’s ear. “Oh yes, your public school educator. Still with the red hair I see, ugh . Yes, I remember… I told her to dye her roots blonde like me if she wanted a better job than the impossible task of instructing these degenerates. Because as we all know: ‘blondes have more fun’. Isn’t that right, Chlorine?”

Whether Chloe was still sore from Audrey getting her name wrong twice now, or just plain embarrassed by her female parent’s condescending behavior, who knows. She didn’t repeat her mother’s mantra again like last time though, and instead stood there nervously with her hands in her chino pockets, portraying quite an un-Chloe lack of confidence.

“Well anyway, if you simply must know Miss… Bustier, was it?” An uninterested Audrey inquired, proving the rumor true that her daughter’s name was the only one she regularly forgot. “I was just seeing my precious off, before catching the afternoon plane to uptown New York. It’s just wonderful there in the summer, with all the glitterati in attendance for the various functions. You really must try it, darling… oh sorry I forgot: on your meager salary, it might prove to be an impossible dream. Still, we can’t all be as ridiculously wealthy as me and my husband, can we?”

“Y-Yes, I suppose so.” Miss Bustier desperately kept her sentences as short as possible. She didn’t want the dreadful woman to stay there a second longer than absolutely necessary. “W-Well, I don’t want to keep you, if you have things you need to…”

“So, these are the local children you go to school with, dear?” Deciding she was tired with Miss Bustier’s ‘rambling’, a bored Audrey fixed a critical eye over the classroom. “Well, I must say, I’ve seen far better. A poor crop if ever there was one… why your father refused to let you be privately educated is beyond me. I suspect it’s because he wants to boost his election prospects by letting you ‘mingle with the common folk’, but is it really worth it? I hate to think the effect such distasteful surroundings must be having on your delicate young mind.”

Outraged gasps erupted from all around the room, and if Chloe could’ve jumped into a fifty-foot hole never to emerge, she likely would’ve done so with relish. Alas, this was not an option, and so once more the twitching girl was forced to deal with the consequences of her mother’s shameless arrogance and total lack of volume control.

But just as even the usually docile Miss Bustier was about to say something stronger to defend her visibly irritated students, the last two attendees emerged through the door, puffing and panting as they arrived at long last. Also noticeably, covered in what can only be described as black oil stains.

First up was Nino Lahiffe, who paused slightly to catch his breath and adjust his cap. Then came his girlfriend Alya Cesaire just behind, who despite being pretty exhausted herself, began to speak “N-Nino’s dad gave us a lift, but the car broke down. We had to help him fix it…”

Suddenly Audrey Bourgeois, obviously on a roll, glanced behind her with a pronounced sneer. Upon seeing the pair in question, her expression of disapproval grew even more pronounced…

And what she said next was truly shocking. Except, maybe not her.

“Who might these ‘people’ be, then? While I think it’s laudable you’ll let just about anyone into these types of schools Bustier, I hope you realize some individuals can’t be taught. Just look at those hopeless youths, for example. Obviously from a rough neighborhood, probably down to one parent each, deprived of everything to judge by their filthy clothing, and they can’t even be in class on time. Probably wasting their lives on the street listening to ‘wrap’ music, or whatever it’s called. As if this sort even need an education, in their future careers as minimum wage cleaners or drug-dealers. Really dear, you’d be better off kicking them out and investing in school uniforms instead…”

“ That’s enough !!”

Stunned faces all around. Jaws dropping to the floor. A few people on the verge of fainting, at the identity of the person who uttered those two screamed words.

It wasn’t Miss Bustier, who was prepared to declare her response by more physical means (a hard fist to the face of an unrepentant bigoted snob, if you must know).

Not Alya, who looked just about ready to burst into tears, being held by her apoplectic boyfriend in his arms (otherwise, he might’ve formed an unstoppable tag-team with his teacher to kick some serious a**).

The surprise shouter was none other than Chloe Bourgeois, who having finally been pushed to her absolute limit at her mother’s complete lack of respect for anyone besides her own reflection, had finally snapped.

And boy, was it something to behold.

“Mom, as I’m sure anyone who isn’t you would agree, I’ve put up with a lot over the years. The insults. The dirty looks. Long absences. Always getting my name wrong. Never telling me you love me. Raising me to think ‘sacking’ anyone who disagrees with you is permissible behavior. I can tolerate all this and more, but there is one thing where I must draw the line. You want to know what that is?”

“ Must we get into this now, dear? You know I like first pick of the best VIP seats…” There Mrs Bourgeois went again, thinking this was just another conversation where she could brush off her daughter’s genuine concerns.

Well, in this case, she was about to get ‘schooled’ (pun not intended).

“Well, I’m going to tell you anyway. It’s racism Mom, plain and simple, and I won’t stand for it! Whatever problems I might’ve had with Alya and Nino in the past, and believe me there’s been plenty, I’ve never treated them differently due to the color of their skin! How shallow can you get?! And coming from me, this is the biggest of big deals!”

It was as if someone had lit a fuse underneath Audrey’s designer shoes, as the formerly unflappable woman suddenly recoiled in shock. “W-What… well I never ! How could you say such terrible things to me, Chlorophyll? Why, if you weren’t my own flesh and blood, I’d sue you on the spot! I’ll have you know, some of my best workers are blac…”

“Yeah, ‘workers’. You just made my point for me. That’s all they are to you, aren’t they? I’ve seen the way you treat them differently to even our other staff, calling them ‘tanned’ and ‘colored’ right to their faces. They don’t say anything because they don’t want to lose their jobs, and shamefully neither do I because frankly, you scare me sometimes. Well, that ends this second . The instant you behave that way again, I’ll be on you like a ton of bricks. Also, do you wanna know something else?”

“H-Huh?” Audrey’s demeanor had abruptly switched from coolness personified to utter confusion. Being called out so blatantly in front of a bunch of ‘underprivileged ragamuffins’ by her petulant child was not on the itinerary today.

“I’ll spoil it for you again. Father hates your attitude even more than I do! Whenever you finish treating the staff like the dirt under your feet, he goes to each one in turn to apologize personally. As well as give them a few extra euros that month, as if that’ll make up for the abuse they have to suffer. But look who I’m talking to! The woman who thinks Chinese and Japanese people are practically the same! And people wonder where I got such a stupid idea from…”

‘I-I…” For the first time in her life, Mrs Bourgeois was completely lost for words. All she could do was stare dumbly and numbly at her irrepressible daughter, as the young girl finished her extended lecture with a flourish.

“Finally, I suppose I should let you know about the head cook at our hotel. You know, the one who you think makes the best meals around for Daddy and his clients at short notice? Or when you have to entertain people, and she puts on a spread that’ll put any other caterer in the city to shame? That’s Mrs Cesaire, the mother of Alya over there. How do you think she’s going to feel, when she hears you racially insulted her daughter so terribly in front of her entire class? I don’t know, but if I were you I’d check my food for signs of saliva for a while. Also, put your lawyers on stand-by, because I think it may be heading for court. And if you want to know who’s side I’ll be on, here’s a clue…”

At this juncture, Chloe put her mouth to her now trembling mother’s ear to whisper sharply:

“...It won’t be yours!”

That was all it took for Mrs Audrey Bourgeois to collapse on the floor, in such a comatose state that not even the strongest smelling salts around could revive her in the foreseeable future.

...Not that anyone really wanted to do that, of course. Even the school nurse balked at helping someone who’d been so vile to the innocent students there. So, in an unconscious heap on the floor she stayed.

In the end, she missed her flight and the free expensive champagne on offer. Oh dear. How sad. Never mind.

As for Chloe, having said her piece and blithely sauntered over to her seat next to Sabrina afterwards, she was most surprised by the deafening cheer that subsequently erupted, as well as the much better treatment she got for an entire week afterwards by everyone present (even from Marinette).

As unusual as her newfound popularity was though…

She could quite easily get used to it.

If only she could master this whole ‘being nice’ thing.

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AUTHOR’S NOTE: Remember everyone, having White Privilege isn’t just about paying lip service to the concerns of minorities and posting black squares and hashtags one Tuesday to show you care…

It’s about using your advantageous platform all year round to speak up to defend those in need, whoever they are. After all. if activism was just listening to others whilst doing precisely nothing to change the world outside the confines of social media, how are we gonna change the world?

Food for thought. Hope you enjoyed the story, which (I hope) got the point across well enough. Whatever you think, let me know… and thanks for reading! :)

#chloe bourgeois #audrey bourgeois #Nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #adrien agreste #Miss Bustier #ladybug #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #blackout tuesday #blackouttuesday

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