#using this for my portfolio for when I decide to eventually go back to school

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for wanting a 200$ refund on a 400$ model that was REALLY below par in both quality and customer service?

This was one of my first monetary experiences with my own credit card and account, to preface.

So, I'm learning SFM and have regular dates with my boyfriend in vrchat. Between the two of us we knew enough to make models of myself in both, but not enough to make one for my headmate that me and her would both be satisfied with.

TL;DR, the first modeler we went to cancelled after we proved too impatient for them and they didn't need the comm money, so we put out a post calling for 3d models and asked our moots to spread it on here and on Twitter.

Eventually, we found a few artists that were within our post-high-school graveyard shift budget, but then an artist appeared in our asks that was interested in our order. Now, from the very BEGINNING they were blaring Sus alarms in our head with how they typed, their profile, their portfolio, the whole thing, but we still talked with them about it and eventually got to dming on discord over it.

We agreed on 350 with a down payment for the model, and she went to work. Somewhere along the line it increased to 400 with a down payment but I don't remember the circumstances for why.

I was a little impatient at times, but she still did good work, even if she misinterpreted our suggestions sometimes and was high at least once when we asked for an update.

We'd assumed that she would rig it for SFM and VRC as a part of the main payment. She then told us it would cost extra for the rigging.

We were understandably miffed but she justified it with money problems, so we sighed and went with it. When it was finished, she sent us a ZIP file holding all of it, and...then we didn't have any idea how to get it working.

She helped us, thankfully, but the whole thing was really annoying for our computer illiterate phone-dwelling ass. And then we had no clue about unity because it had been years since we'd made the other model with a base. Then she joked about having a $140 fee for it and that was pretty much the final straw for us, deciding to just pay someone else to port it for us because we were getting genuine headaches from it.

Since then, we've been using the model as planned, but have noticed a lot of clipping issues with it, it turns out the person we found to port it actually does similar quality models from scratch for like a FRACTION of the price, and despite us telling her it was going to be used on Oculus(i refuse to call it Meta) Quest, it was INCREDIBLY unoptimized for it.

This is a first world problem to hell and back and I'm not actually going to do it because I don't want to deal with her again after all the miscommunication but

Aita for being suspicious enough I've been scammed/fed a sob story to want at least a partial refund here?

What are these acronyms?

[phanfictioncatalogue]

15k Words (2) Masterlist

part one

A-Lister (ao3) - tastefulcucumber

Summary: Phil’s Dad owns a small photography business. Daniel Howell, academy-award winning actor decides that Lester’s Portraits is the best place to get his head-shots for his portfolio. He expects to get his pictures taken, but what he doesn’t expect is the photographer’s son to be so captivating. No one else has treated Dan this normal since the beginning of his acting career. Maybe that’s just what Dan needs, a friend who is there for him, and not for his status.

A Little Bit Of Magic - dxnhowell

Summary: Dan is the new potions teacher at Hogwarts and is muggleborn, this is his first year teaching and whilst he’s excited, he has to get used to being in the castle with absolutely no muggle technology. Phil is the herbology teacher and is clumsy and likes puns and likes to help Hagrid with his magical creatures. Dan and Phil eventually meet and become rather close, some of the students realize this and try to get them together before the end up of the year.

Amaryllis (ao3) - bokeae

Summary: In which Dan has to wed Princess Alice when he would much rather marry her brother, Philip.

Ardour (There’s a World Outside These Walls) (ao3) - centroid

Summary: Dan’s facade crumbled. His breathing was the first to go, leaving his lungs with short gasps of air. He brought his hands up to press the heels of his palms into his eye sockets as tears trekked down his cheeks. Dan’s romantic life was always covered in a veil of sorrow, but never once had he cried over it. Never once did he let his walls down and just weep. Dan was relieved, so relieved but at the same time he was in despair. It was as if his fate had been set in stone, finalizing that he was and would forever be alone. In a world with its foundation dug heel toe into romance, he was someone who had to go without.

billet-doux (ao3) - Tarredion

Summary: Dan and Phil, gang leaders and rivals to the highest degree, harbor big secrets they want no one to see

Coffee and Calligraphy (ao3) - brookwrites

Summary: Dan’s a barista at the local cafe, where writer!Phil decides to sit with his journal. Dan likes Phil. A lot. But things change when Dan finds something out about Phil that breaks his heart.

Colour Me Blue (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: What if a boy, whose heart was so full of darkness, that he couldn’t believe in colours anymore, met someone so full of light who slowly painted his world bright again?

Demons In My Head (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: An unconscious demon mysteriously shows up on Dan's property, and Dan heals it, promising he'll send it back to where it came from as soon as he finds out why it's there. Finding the will to banish a charming demon is harder than he thought.

for you I’d wait (til kingdom come) (ao3) - blueshirt

Summary: The time that Dan misunderstands one little conversation—which he still maintains is PHIL’S FAULT, not his—and it leads to six years of unrequited pining.

going the wrong way home (ao3)- moonlightmusings

Summary: the almost-college au where dan and phil take a summer road trip.

I heard the March birds singing, and oh, what a beautiful sound. (ao3) - emonerd_io

Summary: Inspired by the anime 四月は君の嘘 (Your Lie in April)!

The piano initiated the opening chords, and she drew the melody out in simple, yet alluring and complex lines. It’s a tune Dan did not recognise, but fell in love with immediately. Deep, and filled with a certain longing, yet tragically beautiful. It’s the type of music that allows you to fathom why exactly some people practise for years and for decades, trying to master their craft, just to play something so modest and stark, yet so exquisite.

This is the story of two young musicians, Dan and Phil, and how their lives became entwined over the course of one year in high school.

In Faded Holograms They Speak (ao3) - artdeficient

Summary: They’re in japan and nothing seems to make sense, so they hide in hotel rooms and pretend they can’t see what’s right in front of them, and it works, for a while. (badlands au based off of halsey’s album)

no longer feel alone (ao3) - natigail

Summary: who'd have known that a random act of kindness from a stranger could lead to this.

refraction (ao3) - indistinct_echo

Summary: (To be read after completing Monochrome by intoapuddle.)

Dan doesn’t want to wait any longer: it’s time to share with Angie and PJ his Fall Whisperer identity. This really isn’t so scary… oh, who is he kidding, it’s terrifying.

Cue supportive-boyfriend Phil, amateur-therapist Dan, and a healthy dose of luck (+ bonus smut).

Teach Me to Fly (ao3) - thesleepdeprived

Summary: Soulmates!AU, Wings!AU. People had always told him that wings were the solution to everything, the key to your love life, your friend circle, who you are as a person, even. Yet somehow, Phil just can’t bring himself to see it that way. Who would want a soulmate that would never fly? (or, as my planning outline so eloquently puts it, kiss kiss fall in love you emotionally repressed motherfuckers) COMPLETE

These Violent Delights Of Love (ao3) - cyanica

Summary: Dan is hopelessly in love, Phil’s seemingly oblivious and they’re on a world tour just to make things more chaotic.

And yet, the Gods, or the Ruler of the Universe, or whoever the hell was in charge decided Dan needed to die in the end, too. Currently, leaning over the porcelain throne of shit and piss was the Gods’ human voodoo doll, throwing up the contents of his unfortunate Indian dinner – and significantly more alarming than that: black tulips. Fucking flowers. This wasn’t real life.

waiting to be found (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan and Phil meet at a club.

(And then a coffee shop.)

Who’s Taking You Home Tonight? (ao3) - whatkindoffanfics (orphan_account)

Summary: October, 1944. While World War II rages on, Dan Howell finds himself thrown into the secretive world of Bletchley Park, a headquarters for intercepting and breaking the codes of encrypted German messages.

[theresawritesstuff]

Kitty showing Midge and Lenny the pictures she’s taken of them over the years and asking them if she can use them for her school project

(This one rambles and waxes poetic on photography as a medium a little... Less of a story and more of a snapshot. Hopefully it's okay.)

Kitty first fell in love with the camera when she was nine. Just not in the way most people in show business families do.

She'd tagged along to watch her father's photo shoot for the article announcing his step into the role of late night television host.

There'd been a team of photographers buzzing around, getting the staged shots they had planned. 

Things had almost wrapped up when she finally worked up the courage to ask one of the assistant photographers if she could look through the camera lense.

"Sure. It's a little heavy though so be careful."

"I will." 

It was bulky, but not unreasonable. 

She'd put her face to the eye piece, aiming it around the studio, seeing things through that magic little window for the first time.

She found her dad relaxing on the set, talking with Midge while the principal photographer switched gear. 

Midge said something that made Dad laugh and she instinctively just clicked.

"Sorry!" she'd said, after realizing what she'd done.

"Don't sweat it kid. That was the last of the role. Saves me from having extra on the end when we develop them."

A week later, they'd sent over proofs for the images they planned to use for the article and the ones the studio marketing team wanted.

They'd made a copy of Kitty's shot with a note giving her credit and a word of encouragement.

Her dad kept the print framed on his desk next to his typewriter.

She got a camera of her own for her tenth birthday. 

After that the rest was history.

Which was fitting because she'd developed a bit of a fascination with history. Capturing a moment that would otherwise be lost to time and preserving it. Giving it life to live on. To say we were here. For however long, this was us, as we were in our truth as we lived it. And what a phenomenal thing, to be able to hold a moment in your hands.

And so every vacation, every outing, Kitty had her camera ready.

It was a fixture of trips into town, of family dinners, frequently snuck into quieter moments when it was least expected. But the images spoke for themselves. 

She eventually found her way into studying photojournalism, a natural fit really for someone raised for the better portion of her upbringing with the Bruce and Weissman brand of championing truth and raw honesty in media and in life.

Before she knew it, she was preparing for her senior portfolio exhibition, a decade behind the camera under her belt and more than enough material to choose from. Arguably too much. 

She'd really gotten shutter happy in her early teens...

The work was good, mostly. She'd weeded out the weaker of the shots earlier in the semester. But now she needed her own version of a tight ten.

And she really wanted it to be good.

"Thanks for letting me drop in like this, Dad,"

she said as she walked through the familiar doorway of her childhood home.

Her father hugged her around the shoulder. "Any time, Kit. You know there's always room at the table."

"Even when Mom's hosting brunch?" Kitty quipped. 

"Hey we ran out of chairs one time!" Midge called from the kitchen. "And that's because Alan had his nephew in town who then decided to also invite his entire basketball team."

"Thinking ahead was never that family's strong suit," her dad chuckled, taking her bag from her. "Jesus, Kitty! What's in here?"

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you guys about…"

They made their way to the living room and Kitty started to lay out her work.

"Now I know you both have worked hard to keep our home lives private, and I get that! So you can totally say no. But I was going through my portfolio at school and I kept coming back to some of these pictures of you two… I was hoping you'd give me permission to use them for the exhibit."

The three of them looked over the images laid before them.

Midge reached for the shot to her left picking it up. 

"I remember this one," she said fondly.

In it, she and dad were sharing a moment while hanging out the cabin window, trying to get the rabbit ears to pick up enough signal for the rest of the family to catch the moon landing.

"I call that one Fly me to the moon," Kitty admitted.

There were shots of the two of them from family parties, a few from the civil rights rallies they'd attended together, along with several backstage highlights from some of their more prestigious career events.

The images brought out sighs and laughter alike.

"These are great, kid," her father praised. "I'd buy all of these."

"They're not for sale, Dad. It's just a portfolio exhibit. A chance to show off our work. Maybe get some job info from the scouts the local papers send," Kitty reminded him.

"You do know you have multiple family members with contacts in the newspaper industry."

*Yeah but this is different. It's not like I'm writing."

Her father shrugged. "Still. Keep it in your back pocket. I know nepotism is a whole can of worms but when you're actually good at what you do…"

Her father lost his train of thought as he picked up a photo from some awards night featuring him leaning discreetly towards her step mother, whispering some joke or other.

"Oh man, what was I saying to you here? Based on that smirk, it must have been good!"

Midge laughed at the image. "I don't remember! Probably something about Gordon's shoes."

"Was that the night with the loud shoes?"

"Who knows…Oh this one, I do remember."

"Nope. Can't use that one." Her father snapped the image out of the pile. "I thought I burned all evidence of my mustache era."

Midge rolled her eyes. "You lost a bet. It happens. You're lucky Jo-jo let you still be his best man with that caterpillar on your lip."

"He was the one I lost the bet to!" her father laughed.

They managed to winnow it down to the most memorable of the set until Kitty felt satisfied with the results.

"Think your professor will be happy with these?" Midge asked as Kitty packed up to go after dinner.

"I hope so." Kitty gave her a hug as she pulled her bag back onto her shoulder. "I think he'll get a kick out of the one with Papa Abe at the piano from New Years. He's a fan of his old column."

Her father called from somewhere in the apartment, "Hang on! Before you go, I've got one more I think you should keep in mind."

"We just got it narrowed down," Kitty sighed heavily.

"Hear him out. He sounds enthusiastic." Midge smirked.

"Mom…what is he doing?"

Midge shrugged noncommittally. "You know he likes to keep your work around the house."

He soon returned with a familiar frame in hand.

"I just thought it might make a good addition."

"Dad…"

"Now don't lose that! Because I will want it back after you're done with it," he told her, crossing his arms seriously.

Kitty fingered the edge of the frame she'd seen so many times next to her father's articles as they were being typed, the little note tucked in the glass slightly yellow with age.

"I'll make a copy for the exhibit and get this back to you when I come for family dinner next weekend," she told him.

He nodded, satisfied.

"Hey, Kit. Not that we aren't flattered but, you've got a lot of other shots you could have chosen. Why us old timers?"

Midge elbowed him in the ribs lightly.

Kitty shrugged. "My professor left things pretty open for us to decide. But his big advice was we should shoot what matters most to us. So…"

Her father nodded mutely, hugging her goodbye and kissing the top of her head. "Good answer."

"See you at dinner next weekend, sweetie," Midge said.

"Chicken?" Kitty asked.

"Brisket."

Kitty pumped her free arm in celebration. "Yes."

"Hey. Love you, kiddo," her father said, leaning on the doorway as Kitty hailed down a cab.

"Love you, too."

The older comics watched until the cab drove out of sight.

"I know we wondered what the hell we were doing pretty regularly. But we must have done something right," Midge observed, resting her head against Lenny's shoulder.

"Yeah she turned out pretty great," Lenny admitted.

Midge hummed in agreement.

After a moment she asked, "So where'd you put the mustache picture?"

"In the garbage where it belongs," Lenny laughed.

Midge grinned wickedly, running into the house to retrieve it.

[sambalbilis77]

Podcast I listened to [part 1]

I recently started driving to work which take me approx an hour one way so on the second day of driving I got tired listening to music - random I know. I started listening to podcast, and one of my good friends from school recommended the Deep Dive by Ali Abdaal series on Spotify. I may not have time to always update my thoughts on podcasts that I listen to but will try my best!

Unlock financial freedom : Secrets from a $50 million portfolio

I know, I know. The title is so cringey but I decided to give it a go. The podcast was between Ali and an entrepeneur called Codie Sanchez. She talked about how she got to where she is now, she has a private equity company and she also buys loads of business around the US.

What I find interesting is that she said when you're at work, your boss either want to friend you, father you, or f*ck you. And you could use this all (ethically) to your advantage. She said when she was at the start of her career she was at the office before anyone else - before 7 am! That's crazy. And she would leave the last. She said pain is neccessary if you want to be successful.

She also said something about when she was working she had to move away to another city as her partner back then changed job so she sacrificed but they didn't want the same big things, they didn't have the same goal and he expected her to just be comfortable. She eventually file a divorce as he wasn't willing to do the same for her. I reflect that because obviously now I travel to work and drive through a (very) dangerous road to get to work. She said that make sure that you have the same goal and that the other person would do the same for you. This was when it hits me, I wonder if it was the other way around would my partner do the same? Would he spend extra 3 hours everyday to commute just so that he can be and commit to me? Codie mentioned that make sure you are sacrificing for the right person. Because obviously I don't have any doubt that we both want to be successful I just want to make sure that he would do the same for me... things to think about I guess?

Anyway, she started her own business and got out of the big company that she was working for and talked about how that experience was ups and downs but no one will only go up when it comes down to business / being successful. The 'pain' that she intially talk about, she said she wouldn't be where she is at now without all those struggle as you learn and grow a lot when you are at the beginning of your career. I've always wanted to and hopefully will still be an entrepreneur in the future. I don't know how to start in a bigger scale - obviously I have my small business which I can barely manage now due to work commitment but it's not wrong to dream, i guess? Maybe I'll be a doctor and a businesswoman at the same time? See what future holds. Scary but exciting.

[jotatetsuken]

sunkissed

features: shoyo hinata x gn!reader | trope: friends to lovers, domestic au | type of writing: oneshot | final dish for: @rexy26

warnings: hq timeskip spoilers, hurt/comfort (reader goes through a break up not with hinata), majorly fluff (lmk if i've missed any tags)

song: sunkissed - khai dreams | wc: 2440

beta reading: @krystalgaia @portfolio-of-dreams @tsukisdarling (thank you so so much darlings <33)

networks: @tokyometronetwork @hanayanetwork

prompt: “You said you needed me - the feeling’s mutual. You make me believe in the beautiful. You said I held your heart together, made you better. You made me fall, every day, and I’d do it all the same.” “I don't know how to fix a broken heart, but we could learn together.” - @sleepyprompts

a/n: a week ago, it was my anime character bestie's birthday, and i figured that the best way to celebrate his birthday was to write a birthday special fic on him <3 so happy birthday shoyo bestie!! keep flying high!! also i have more than 100 followers lol, but i thought it best to write these requests whenever possible <3 as always, likes, reblogs and comments, especially reblogs are appreciated. ^_^

Made with Love: 100 Followers Event (closed) | MWL Masterlist

As both of you stepped into the most popular cafe in all of downtown, which was organizing a salsa dance night, you turned to your right and looked at Shōyō Hinata, who you’d been friends with since you first transferred to Karasuno. Your mind was then transported to the time he decided to leave Japan and go to Rio de Janeiro to work on beach volleyball so that he’d get better at it.

Whenever he felt like a fish out of water and lonely, you always assured him that this feeling of loneliness that he was going through wouldn’t be forever and that eventually, he’d have to learn to be okay with himself whenever possible. When he came back to Japan and started playing for MSBY Black Jackals, you were so excited to see him play and eventually bring home the victory for his team in his finals against the Schweiden Adlers. 

You ran to him and hugged him, congratulating him on his success and his growth in volleyball, and after throwing a beaming smile your way, he held your hand, dragged you to meet his team captain,  Shugo Meian, and introduced you to him, saying, “Meian-san, this is (Y/N) (L/N), my best friend. They’ve been there for me since school and I was wondering if the team had a manager position available.” 

Your eyes widened as Meian chuckled and replied, while looking at you, “Sure, Hinata-kun, anything for our star. I’ll ask the coach and let them know.” 

When you realized that you were still holding on to Shōyō’s hand, he turned to you, his brown irises gleaming with excitement, as you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

“(Y/N),” he smiled, “I’m so excited. I can’t wait for us to work together.”

As you started your new job as the manager of the MSBY Black Jackals, you were clearly in awe of how everyone was playing, how everyone was working hard to be better. 

Kōtarō Bokuto and Atsumu Miya were fun company to hang around with, and you were able to communicate with Kiyoomi Sakusa despite him being distant from everyone. The practices were so full of vigor and energy that it felt somehow different from the matches with Karasuno, and yet, still the same. 

You were especially in awe of Shōyō, as you clearly started noticing how Shōyō grew taller and how he maintained a lean, muscular physique. Your breathing would hitch every time you’d see Shōyō and the perspiration sticking on his skin. It was then that you realized that all these years, you clearly had feelings for him, but would wait for the right moment to tell him.

“(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N)!” Shōyō called out to you as your train of thought was broken, and you chuckled, realizing that you had brought him to this cafe, out of your comfort zone, for a reason. 

It was the 20th of June, the day before his birthday, and while he was in town, you wanted to make it special for him. You’d gotten in touch with his team, who thankfully still remembered you, especially your first-year peers, Tobio Kageyama, Tadashi Yamaguchi, Kei Tsukishima, and Hitoka Yachi. 

Hitoka especially created the group chat for the birthday of the sunshine of the team, with Daichi, the former Karasuno team captain, taking the initiative to organize the party at the Tanaka household, with Kiyoko and Ryuunosuke being very excited to host everyone. Even Nishinoya, who was busy travelling, was ready to video call. 

So, it was planned that you’d take him for a salsa dance night, especially because he had picked up a little bit of steps, having been acquainted with beats of the fast paced music in Brazil, while everyone would be preparing for the surprise birthday party. 

In the meantime, you texted the MSBY team, Tooru Oikawa, now the setter for the Argentinian Volleyball Team, and even the popular Kenma Kozume, a popular youTuber and one of Shōyō’s friends, and his best friend, Tetsuro Kuroo, of the Japanese Volleyball Association.

As the both of you entered the cafe, your feet were graced by the wooden tiles, and your eyes were met with the sheen of the rice lights hanging from the ceiling. The cafe had a space large enough for couples to learn to dance, with the tables pushed to the walls, and you were captivated by the gallery of paintings displayed throughout the cafe. 

A tall man clad in all-black welcomed the both of you, and the moment he instantly recognized Shōyō, he then paved the way for everyone to move so that the both of you could sit in one corner in peace. 

Shōyō then asked you, “Are you excited? I know I am, because I get to dance with you!” 

You felt your cheeks flush as you replied, putting one of your hands on his, “Yes, of course. However, just know that I’m a slow dancer. I can’t pick it up easily.” 

He then dragged you to one of the less crowded spaces in the room, intertwined his fingers with yours, his gaze fixated on yours, and spoke softly enough for you to hear, “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you,” and then winked at you, causing you to fluster. 

As Shōyō led you through his footwork and turned you, being swift on his feet and having been acquainted with the beats of the music in Brazil gave him an advantage as he picked up the moves quite quickly. However, you struggled to pick it up, and so he taught you. As you both learned the moves, your gazes were locked on each other, and you both laughed, being lost in each other. In the swaying to the music, at a certain moment, his gaze on you turned nostalgic, as he remembered the time he started having feelings for you. 

Years ago, when Kiyoko brought Hitoka and you along to the team as new managers, Shōyō was especially eager to have new members on the team, but he was lost in your gaze, as the rays of the sun passed through the window and kissed your face, elevating your beauty. 

During that day, he couldn’t stop looking at you. This caused him to lose focus on his games. As he started interacting with you more and took note of the way you genuinely laughed, it gave him a boost of confidence he didn’t realize he needed. So, he started channeling that into his practices, eventually becoming better. One day, he wanted to go to you and ask you to hang out with him alone. 

However, that’s when he saw you in another man’s arms. He stopped in his tracks as he watched the both of you. His heart was breaking a little, and in addition to the fight he had with Tobio Kageyama during the Tokyo Practice Camp after losing to Aoba Johsai, this broke his heart all the more, and he felt very burdened and lost his focus entirely. 

At one point, when Shōyō’s moves became sloppy and (Y/N) rushed to his aid, he curtly responded, “Please, leave me alone. I can take care of myself.” He then took the towel and the water bottle and left the hall, causing you to be confused, until Yachi whispered in your ears, “It’s probably because Hinata-kun had a fight with Kageyama-kun and that’s been hurting him. Also, he saw you with another man, and that caused him to be upset.” Hearing that caused you to be profoundly shocked, as you took time to process this. 

The following week, as Shōyō walked to the club room to get ready for practice, he saw you being admonished by your boyfriend, and he announced that he was breaking up with you. While the whole world around you stood still, as you heard this news, this caused Shōyō to be irate at you being mistreated. 

So, he paced urgently towards the both of you, and threw the volleyball at his face, smacking him and causing him to fall down. He then held one of your hands, and dragged you to the club room, causing you to stop breathing raggedly and start to sob incessantly. 

You closed your eyes as fear and immense grief struck them all at once, causing Shōyō to ask them, “Is it okay if I hug you?” 

You nodded, and closed your eyes while Shōyō enveloped them in a tight embrace as your tears soaked into his gakuran, but that didn’t matter, as long as you were able to feel better again. 

As his teammates started entering the club room, he opened his eyes and mouthed out the following words: “Their boyfriend broke up with them. Can someone please help me calm them down?” to which Kiyoko and Hitoka came to your aid, and helped you calm down by helping you ground yourself with deep breaths. They gave you water to drink, and as you opened your eyes, you only saw Kiyoko, Hitoka, and Shōyō, while everyone else had gone for practice.

With your mouth agape, you ended up profusely apologizing., “I’m so sorry, all of you, for keeping you waiting.” 

Everyone present shook their heads in denial, with Kiyoko replying, “It’s totally alright, you don’t have to worry. If you want to be left alone, we wouldn’t mind. We’ll look out for you.”

You shook your head and continued, “No, no. I’d like to distract my mind and come for the practices,” causing both Kiyoko and Hitoka to nod.

Hitoka then turned to Shōyō, replying, “Hinata-kun, would you mind walking with them?”

Shōyō then replied, “Of course not. I wouldn’t mind at all. I’d love to walk with them back to the court.”

The other girls then left the club room, leaving the two of you alone. You sheepishly looked into Shōyō’s eyes and replied, “Thank you so much, Hinata-kun,” to which he then held your hands in his, and replied, “Call me Shōyō, it’s okay.”

He then smiled at you and continued, “Look, (y/n), I know that this is not the right time to say anything to you. However, I want to assure you that sometimes, things happen for the best. We’re all here for you, and I’m especially here for you. Please don’t hesitate to call me, and I’ll find a way to distract you and help you get over this. I need you to be okay, (Y/N). I need you.” As he touched his forehead on yours, he continued, “(Y/N), I can say this one thing with certainty. I don't know how to fix a broken heart, but we could learn together,” causing the both of you to smile and hug each other. Over the years, when he helped you get through one of the lowest phases of your life, you were clearly in awe of his nature, and it caused you to live every moment to the fullest. 

“Shōyō!” you called out to him as he broke out of his daze. As you chuckled, you told him, “Shōyō, Tanaka-san wants us to come over to his house. Shall we leave?” 

His eyes widened as he stopped dancing and inquired, “Yes, but what about the food-”

You interrupted him as you dragged him out of the cafe and into the car as you drove him back home. As you started driving, you felt something in you that you needed to get off your chest. 

“Shōyō, there’s something I need to tell you before we reach Tanaka-san’s place.”

Furrowing his eyebrows at you, he asked you, “Tell me, (Y/N). What’s up?”

Taking a deep breath, you continued, while looking at Shōyō from one corner of the eye, “I want to thank you.”

As he said, “For what?” 

“I want to thank you for helping me get over my ex and be confident in myself and in the world. Thank you for keeping in touch with me and never giving up on me. Thank you for taking me with you to be your manager wherever you are. All those years ago, when you said you needed me – the feeling’s mutual.”

“Shōyō, I,” you took a deep breath again as you noticed his gaze fixated on yours, “I love you, more than a friend. You make me believe in beauty. You said I held your heart together, made you better. You made me fall, every day, and I’d do it all the same. You’re the sun in my life that I’d like to treasure forever. I’d like to be yours, if that’s okay.” 

As you pumped the brakes and stopped in front of the Tanaka residence, you turned to Shōyō, who seemed really dumbfounded by your confession. He then cupped your cheeks with his calloused hands, brought your face forward to his, and gave you a peck on your lips, but as you opened your mouth, you gave him permission to lock his lips with yours, and as your fingers raked through his orange hair, both of you felt the burden of pining for each other for years be lifted off your shoulders. 

As you released yourself from the kiss, he finally spoke, “You have no idea how difficult it was for me to keep my feelings from you.” As you two smiled at each other, he then said, “Come on. Let’s go to Tanaka-san right now.”

Both of you got out of the car, and as you knocked on the door, you realized the door was unlocked, so both of you entered the house, only to find the living room empty but a pleasant aroma coming from the kitchen. 

“Do I smell tamako kake gohan?” 

His eyes widened and he grinned at his favorite dish being made while a large group of people jumped from the back of the couches and yelled “Surprise! Happy birthday, Shōyō!” 

His mouth gaped wide open as he noticed everyone that’s been a part of his life, from his closest friends in middle school, to the Karasuno Volleyball Team, to the Tokyo friends: Kenma, Kuroo, Lev, Inuoka, Bokuto, and Akaashi, to Atsumu and Sakusa from the MSBY team, to even Tooru Oikawa and Yuu Nishinoya wishing him via a video call. 

As his eyes were welling up with happy tears, he turned to you, and asked you, “Did you plan all this?” 

You nodded in return, and he hugged you. After releasing himself from the hug, he kissed you on the lips, earning a lot of “oohs,” “aahs,” and “finally” from everyone. 

Shōyō was so grateful that he had a lot of people who loved him, and he was especially grateful to you. 

© Shyna 2022 - reposting on any other platform or even tumblr is not allowed. likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated.

tagging: @21-06-1996 (especially for you <3) @akaashi-todorki @trueformsukuna @jordyn-degas @arminsomnia @wakatshi @aizumie @indaybella99 @coffeeauthorvibing @ffsg0jo @hyeque @ohtobiors @cirigiri @beware-of-the-rogue @kiiraes @miikoos @satosugulovechild @mrskenmakozume  @kagejima (taglist form / @shynahasabookshelf , turn on notifications for the latter)

[queerchoicesblog]

The New Queens of Hollywood (Chapter 4, TSHOEH)

After sealing a deal of mutual assistance, it’s time for Celia to start spending evenings in the Evelyn Hugo’s trailer, showing her the ropes of the Method and helping the young star rehearse. Inexorably, it does little good to her crush on Don Adler’s wife.

Previously: A Star Is Born, Little Women, Milk Shake Talk

Next: Clouds In The Sky

AO3 LINK

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The following day, true to her word, Evelyn took me to Schwab’s and drew some attention for me as soon as she spotted paparazzi hanging around. Then, when we were done shooting for the day, I headed toward her trailer and knocked on her door. I was so excited I could feel my heart pulsating in my throat. 

“Come in!”.

Evelyn’s trailer was as messy and pink as I expected it to be: clothes and shoes scattered over almost every inch of surface available, together with magazines and empty packets of cigarettes. I also noticed an empty bottle of gin on a counter. The whole place smelled of nicotine and her intoxicating perfume.

Evelyn was at the other side, standing by a mirror combing her hair. She turned and flashed me a grin.

“Welcome to my humble abode, honey”.

I liked whenever she used pet names instead of my name, even if I knew it meant nothing to her: she would call anyone “honey”, “darling” or “sweetheart”. But I liked it. 

I smiled back at her as she walked toward me. 

“I brought the script” I said, showing the portfolio in my hands.

“Great, let’s get started?”.

She guided me towards a pink couch at one end of the trailer, behind us. We took a seat and I basked in our proximity, my heart fluttering.

“So, darling, we had fun today at Schwab’s” she said, retrieving her own copy of the script. “Now enlighten me about this method of yours. Teach me how to work your magic”.

“Okay, so let me ask you first: how do you approach a script?”.

Evelyn looked at me confused so I paraphrased.

“You get a role in a movie, they give you a script. What do you do to prepare?”.

Evelyn sighed, looking down at the sheets in her hands.

“Well, I read it, what a question?”.

I refrained myself from asking her how many times she read it or what type of reading she usually did - quick, immersive, character-based…- because I didn’t want to intimidate her not to sound like a boorish little brat: I was there to help, to support.

“Okay, and then?”.

“Then I read my lines aloud”.

“That’s great, keep going!”.

“And I don’t know, I suppose I try to think how to say them”.

“That’s good, Evelyn” I encouraged her. “How do you decide how to say them? Like, when you say: that’s it, that’s how I’m going to say them on camera?”.

She pondered her answer, unsure of what to say. Eventually, she shrugged at me.

“When I think they sound good for the screen, I guess? It’s what Don does”.

It made sense. That was the old school of Hollywood, the one of Don Adler and studio dynasties: those performers were stars, audience idols before actors…and it showed, honestly. 

“That’s a good start” I said, conceding, only to draw a smile on her lips. “But this technique has one major flaw”.

“And what is that?”.

“If you focus only on the screen, your lines will sound a bit…hollow”.

Evelyn rolled her eyes at me.

“I thought the laundry list of compliments was over”.

“It is, I am just saying things as they are. To help you and to be your friend, I must be honest with you, Evelyn, and I urge you to do the same with me”.

“Fair enough” she sighed. “Okay, so my lines ring hollow: how do I make them less hollow?”.

“Forget the screen” I smiled at her. “To reach the audience for real you have to become the character”.

She looked at me, still lost in the plot.

“And…how do I do that?”.

“Well, you have to think like the character, feel it resonate within you. In short, be the character, not just play the role”.

She nodded me to continue. I could tell she was making an effort to follow me even if she didn’t fully get what I was saying.

I shifted to sit more comfortably on the couch, legs laced underneath me.

“I know this sounds very abstract but there are exercises you can do and strategies you can use”.

This seemed to put her mind at ease a little: Evelyn could master strategies, she was very good at it.

“Like what?”.

“Use your own emotions and feelings. They are pretty much universal, right? Anger, joy, disgust, fear…we all have experienced them at some point, so we have memory of them inside us” I put an hand on my chest to emphasize my explanation. “You just have to channel that kind of feeling you know and borrow it to your character. So it will be real, sound real even if, in the end, nothing is real, it’s all fiction. But the audience must feel there’s truth in it somewhere”.

I was quite happy with how I put it down into words for her. I couldn’t tell whether she was sold but she was listening me with interest.

“Let’s make a practical example, shall we? It will be easier this way”.

I opened my script and Evelyn diligently mirrored me. I asked her what was the next scene lined up.

“Hmm…oh here! It’s when we discover that Beth has scarlet fever”.

“Excellent!”.

“Your moment of glory” Evelyn teased me.

“I’m pretty sure Beth didn’t feel this way about it” I noted back, raising an eyebrow at her.

“But you should and rightly so: this is gold for the audience”.

“That’s not the point” I sighed. “Focus, Evelyn! So, we’re sisters, we are very close and bam, out of the blue I get scarlet fever! How would you feel?”.

“Worried?” Evelyn shrugged.

“Just worried?”.

“Why not? It makes sense!”.

“Yes but, Evelyn, people died of that shit back then before penicillin was invented! So it’s serious: you risk of losing your dear sister forever! Have you ever lost someone dear in your life?”.

Evelyn took her time to answer this time.

“Maybe”.

“And when it happened, how did you feel? I know I’m being nosy but it might help us now”.

“Well, sad as everyone does, I suppose”.

I got the feeling that Evelyn didn’t spend much time checking her feelings or meticulously avoided to do so. So I decided to help, sharing mine.

“When I lost someone dear, I felt truly heartbroken. As if I had lost a finger or something like that. And angry because they were taken from me, and helpless because I couldn’t do anything to save them”.

I remember her pondering my words. What an irony I picked such example to explain the Method to her…

“But Beth is not dead yet?”.

“Good point! But she literally has a death sentence hanging on her head and Jo, you, knows it”.

“But Jo had it too, I think? And she didn’t die? Maybe she thinks Beth will make it too”.

I was pleased with her reasoning.

“Denial” I nodded. “It’s an interesting view: you could show it on screen”.

“How do I show denial?”.

“Beth is not all that Jo has in her life, right? And she thinks Beth will survive. Maybe Beth feels the same way: it’s nasty, it’s unfortunate that she got sick but her beloved sister Jo made it. It would fit Beth to try and tell everyone she will be fine”.

“This way it will be more tearjerker when she dies” Evelyn considered. “But that’s about Beth, I thought we were talking of Jo?”.

“Evelyn, no character is an island, they are all connected. Like in real life” I shrugged. “So this is not just about me, Beth, but also about you, Jo, if you think carefully: Beth’s death is a pivotal moment in the story and it will affect every other character, but who seems to suffer most for it? Who looked after dying Beth, aside from Marmee?”.

“Jo”.

“So it is also about you: think of how the audience will be in pain for you too once it will be clear that my fate is sealed and you were wrong all along, how they will sympathize with you as soon as they see you mourning my death and carry on my legacy. Dying is tragic but surviving someone you love is equally heartbreaking”

I looked at Evelyn and added with a smile, to brighten the mood:

“See? Our destinies are intertwined like stems of ivy”.

She made a show of pondering my words then threw me an enigmatic smile.

“Maybe…”.

When we left her trailer that night it was way past 1 AM, and we soon made an habit out of that over the weeks that followed. Whenever our days on set were over, we would go back to the trailer and spend the night talking scenes through and rehearsing. 

Those blessed hours when we would share a bottle of wine and a packet of cigarettes for dinner became my favorite time of the whole day, especially when Evelyn seemed to get more at ease around me. Probably, the alcohol in our veins after a few glasses helped but I suspect now that wine wasn’t the only reason. She didn’t act like the Evelyn Hugo magazines loved and men couldn’t get enough of when she burst into irresistible hearty laughters at my goofy jokes or when she casually shared about her life at home with me, blowing off smoke. She was just Evelyn, and I liked her even more that way. Her face lightened up when she didn’t play the role Hollywood assigned her and she was just herself.

I remember that one night we were both slightly drunk - the morning after I woke up with a hangover - and we were chilling and gossiping about the rest of the crew when Evelyn insisted on rehearsing with me the steps of the dance party. We were bound to shoot it way earlier but a delay with costume delivery put it on the weekly schedule.

“C’mon, you do Laurie” Evelyn said, grabbing my hand and pulling me up, still laughing. “You know the man steps?”.

“Why, no!” I lied. I danced “like the man” many times with Shirley and a couple of other girls.

“Ah, shucks, whatever” she dismissed my words with her hand. “It’s not hard, I guess? You just..c’mon you gotta be a little bit closer, yes more like that! And you put one hand here and I put mine here”.

I tensed up as she placed my hand on her hip and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. Evelyn apparently noticed it because she spoke again.

“It’s just a silly dance, honey. You can do this. Ah, you lead because you’re the man” she giggled.

“I don’t know the steps, it’s not one of my scenes”.

“Oh, c’mon, Celia: I know you know how to dance old-timey stuff, you know everything!”.

I sighed and agreed to try. I moved my feet following the steps I knew, guiding her with me.

“Like this?” I asked. “It’s hard without music”.

“Oh right!”.

And she started humming a waltz. Of course, it didn’t last long because we were both a bit high and burst into laughter, unable to stop. We ended up losing focus and a little balance as well as grace as we bumped into this and that piece of furniture in our way.

Our foreheads touched, accidentally, and that’s when I realized that I only had to lean an inch forward to kiss her soft, perfectly chiseled lips. Just a feather-like push of my arm around her waist and I would be blessed with a sweet kiss, away from privy eyes.

I must have stopped laughing because I heard Emily’s voice.

“What?”.

“What?” I repeated like a dumb.

“Why, you’re staring at me, honey” Evelyn laughed. “So what? Got something on my face?”.

A tipsy Evelyn could be quite stubborn about getting answers. But I couldn’t be fully honest with her, not this time. I could already hear the smack of a slap on my cheek and picture her stepping back, suddenly disgusted with me. ‘Are you a fucking dyke? Get the hell out of here!’.

Conceal. Don’t let her know.

“It’s…y-you have something between your teeth”.

“Shit!”.

Evelyn broke away, covering her mouth with one hand, and ran to the mirror. She checked herself once, twice before turning back at me.

“I see nothing?”.

“Gotcha” I winked.

She opened her mouth to say something but only ended up bursting into laughter, again. There was no greater joy for me to see her like that, happy and carefree. I got the feeling she wasn’t with Don.

“You’re such a prankster, Celia!”.

She playfully threw me a pillow and I ducked just in time. 

“So what? Are you going to tell your hubby and kick me out?” I teased her.

“Don’t you dare start again with that” she made a scene of rolling her eyes at me.

“Well, that’s not an answer” I shrugged. 

Evelyn looked at me, amused. 

“You’re impossible” she moved closer, tipsy. “But no, I won’t: it will be our little secret because you are my second-best friend”.

As if to prove her point, she pulled me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around her, grateful for the unexpected chaste touch. It’s all I can get, I thought. I closed my eyes and inhaled her scent. Just like in that old song housemaids used to sing when my parents weren’t anywhere in sight, I found myself wanting to “drown myself in a bottle of her perfume” so that I could always feel her near, her scent a constant volatile reminder of the warmth of her body now pressed against me, even when she wasn’t around.

Back then, Evelyn was blissfully oblivious of my interest in her, so I learned to be content with little gestures that probably meant more to me than to her. But isn’t the curse of people like me? Feeding of crumbles and pretending it will fill their stomachs? It’s the bittersweet lie we taught ourselves to believe and mold our lives on, and such awareness will never fail to break my heart.

Of course, the occasional displays of friendly affection didn’t do much for my hungry heart but it was a delight to see Evelyn genuinely enjoying my company. To my surprise, she soon started being more casual around me on set too, sitting with me or beckoning me over to join her at her table at craft service or having a smoke with me during breaks. She shared salads with me, chatting, and she leaned by the piano to listen me practicing the old tunes I had to play in a scene; when I finished and looked up to her, her lips curled in a grin and she nodded at the keyboard. “Play it again, Sam” she said, quoting Casablanca. I smiled at her and resume playing, ever so grateful to my folks for forcing me to take piano classes in my childhood. 

However, I wasn’t so naïve to ignore the reason of Evelyn’s sudden change of heart and benevolence towards me: I was honoring my part of the deal and giving her what she wanted, helping her get better in what mattered most to her, her career. Evelyn is many things but an ungrateful is not one of them. And she showed it to me, a few days before the filming of Little Women was over. 

For a fortuitous coincidence, we were back at Schwab’s. It was a crispy sunny day of early spring and everyone on set was so on edge that we didn’t hesitate to run away as soon as an AD announced the lunch break. We rushed to my car and drove all the way to Sunset Boulevard. We even indulged a little at our corner booth, Ari’s shoutings still ringing in our ears. I had already wrapped up my scenes a couple of weeks earlier but I lingered around, partly because of some promotional duties and well, partly to be around Evelyn for as long as I could, not knowing if she would still have me once the movie was over. 

I was lazily checking a fashion magazine someone left on our table when I heard her voice.

“I overheard an interesting conversation between Ari and Harry today”.

“Oh? About what?” I asked, instantly forgetting about “the 10 spring essentials you can’t miss this year” to meet her gaze.

She took a dramatic pause before answering.

“Well, it seems you are a big bad influence on me, honey” she said, cocking her head to the side, an unreadable smile curving her lips.

I could feel my back tensing up at the potential implications of such statement, but I concealed it pretty well. I knew paparazzi were around and Evelyn wouldn’t have been so relaxed if it was what I feared it could be. Also, I couldn’t bring myself to believe that she would have done something so cruel to me: she was ruthless and unpredictable but I don’t think she would have done that to me.

“Why, because I insisted to try the tropical shake instead of the watery ice tea?” I asked, teasing, playing with my straw.

“No, this tropical thing is pretty good actually” she chuckled.

“You must trust a Southern gal when it comes to ice tea, Evelyn, everybody knows it” I shrugged. “But anyway, what did Ari tell you?”.

Evelyn looked at me and I could see the fathom of a bright happy smile forming at the corners of her mouth. She leaned across the table as if to make sure no one else could hear her confidence.

“He told me…that he thinks I have an Academy Award in my pocket this time”.

She flashed me such a bright smile I couldn’t refrain from pulling her in a quick hug.

“Really? Oh my God, I’m so happy for you!”.

It was true and I wanted so badly for her accolade dream to come true. It also didn’t seem unlikely at the time: Academy Awards have always been tainted with power game and Evelyn had that in check, at the arm of Don Adler. She made considerable progress acting wise too: she wasn’t yet at her best, and I think it would take her a few more years to truly master the Method and polish her acting from all the studio actor nonsense, but back then, it could have been more than enough for her to put her hands on the shiny golden statuette she dreamed of.

“Thanks, Celia, but we know I couldn’t have made it without your help”.

I dismissed her words with my hand and I opened my mouth to say something but she anticipated me.

“And that’s why I think you should hear this too”.

I gave her a quizzical look as a popular tune started chirping on the radio. She bent forward slightly with her arms together, unintentionally drawing attention to her chest, which I forced myself not to look at.

“He also told Harry that he thinks you have one for Best Supporting Actress too”.

She flashed me what seemed to me a proud smile while I processed what I had just heard.

“What? For real?”.

“Cross my heart” she nodded. “Harry isn’t so sure but for once I say the hell with what Harry says!”.

We laughed and I heard the metallic click of a camera somewhere nearby. I had forgotten about them for a moment and I forced myself to ignore it.

I shook my head in disbelief.

“I don’t know what to say, it’s just so-“.

“Fucking outstanding?” Evelyn helped to finish the sentence. “Damn, Celia, you’re barely twenty, this is like your third real movie and you already have an Oscar in the pocket?”.

“Sounds crazy, right?” I chuckled.

“It doesn’t sound, it is crazy! You’re lucky we’re best pals because if we weren’t, I wouldn’t think twice to start a war against you”.

She laughed but I knew there was some truth in her words. She knew too because she promptly added:

“Jokes aside, you’re a little intimidating, honey”.

“Says the woman with Hollywood at her feet” I teased her, sipping my tropical smoothie.

“Ah, you know it’s different, you cheeky thing”.

She fell quiet and for a moment there was silence between us. When she spoke again, her tone was so wishful and daydreaming that it almost pains me now to remember it.

“Isn’t it amazing that we’re both going to win Academy Awards soon and we’re not going to hate each other for it because we’re friends?”.

“I’d say it’s pretty great, Evelyn”.

We exchanged a smile, a smile that had nothing to do with our public personas. We were just two friends sitting at a table and wishfully looking at the future as if we had a clue. We were just…happy.

“They’ll make headlines of us, baby” she said. “Maybe they will nickname us ‘The New Queens of Hollywood’ or something like that!”.

We giggled at ourselves and our wild dreams. Then, I raised my glass and called for a toast.

“To the New Queens of Hollywood, then”. 

She mirrored me, raising her own glass and throwing me her signature Evelyn Hugo smile.

“To the New Queens of Hollywood”.

Oh, my dear Evelyn, little did we know about the storm approaching…

[shyestofhearts]

Hi Shy~

Sooo, I have this headcanon that Damian is like this wonderful child prodigy genius. Like, super smart. So smart, that when Bruce tries to enroll him in Gotham academy, they tell him that Damian has tests for college level. Which, Damian just rolls his eyes at, because duh. After discussing it with professionals and yada yada, Damian gets enrolled into college. He’s like, twelve-ish. He is STILL bored in class, and knows most of the information they are trying to teach. His advisor is so sweet and invested into Damian though. And observant. After noticing Damian lack of enthusiasm, he asks Damian what the problem. Nothing interests him, none of his classes.this advisor is an old timer, in my opinion, and has seen so many kids pushed to do things they never wanted to do, and decides he can’t let that happen with Damian. So the Advisor pulls out every department, every major, and goes through it with Damian. After a few hours, because it takes a while to convince Damian that it is alright to do anything he wants, Damian has his majors narrowed down to a few things. Art and pre-med. Damian’s advisor suggests he visit a few of the clubs on campus to really get a feel of what he wants. Thing is, even after going to the students’ art club gallery and one of the pre-med club meetings, neither really speak to him. It’s a Saturday night, and he’s alone on campus. Damian is about to call Alfred, when a student from Damian’s organic chemistry class spots him.

“Damian!” Jace, a slightly round student with soft curly hair smiles at Damian. “Are you here for the show?”

“Show?” Damian scowls?

“Yeah, the fashion show. This year’s theme is sustainability,” Jace smiles. They one of the few people who never ogled at Damian for being a Wayne or looked down on him for his age. They are just genuinely nice, and Damian knows that.

“I didn’t know we had a fashion show,”

“Really? I swear I thought I mentioned it,” Jace says, surprised. Jace may have mentioned that, but Damian probably was zoned out during the time.“Tickets are $15, if you wanna come”

“Oh,” Damian frowns, “I used all the money I brought with me for the art gallery and lunch earlier,” He says, cursing internally for not bringing more cash with him.

“If you want to go, I’ll cover you.” Jace smiles, “Think of it as payment for help on our last exam” Damian would usually say no, but Jace is just so nice,

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah! Besides,” Jace smiles, turning towards the stadium, “I have a feeling you’re going to love it”

And Damian did love it. The designs were amazing, some more haute couture while others were casual, and each designer explained how their designs involved sustainability. Some were statement pieces, designed to address political issues, others were just to demonstrate that sustainability could still be cute, and while others highlighted affordability and sustainability.

Damian wanted to do this. Running through his head were endless possibilities. Perhaps he can enlist the help of Poison Ivy to create a vegan leather that was also bullet resistant, or…

The next Monday he is waiting for his advisor at 7 in the morning, because he spent the rest of the weekend coming up with ideas, sketches, creating a portfolio, and practicing hypothetical arguments as to why Damian should go into fashion. At 7:15 his advisor sees him, and can tell by the light in Damian’s eyes, determination on his face, and the way he’s clutching his sketchbook, Damian has found it.

“I want into the fashion program!” Damian all but bursts, unconsciously on his tippy toes in excitement.

“Okay,” His advisor smiles, ushering him into his office. “Let’s make it happen”

“Just like that?” Damian asks, eyes wide, voice surprisingly small. His advisor smiles at him kindly.

“I’ll do whatever I can to make it happen.”

It takes a bit before Damian can actually get into the program, he has to work on some prerequisites, and also create a better portfolio with samples, but Damian is determined. By the end of the school year, he has been accepted.

Damian doesn’t tell his family, not in the beginning. He actually doesn’t want to tell his friends either, unsure of how they’d react. He is still insecure, and just entering his teen years. He worries about what any or everyone will say. Eventually, though he tells Jon and Colin, swearing them to secrecy. They both are excited for him, asking if he’d design their costumes for them. Damian blushes but says,

“Tt, like you can afford me”

He eventually tells Alfred as well, because he needs help learning how to use a sewing machine, and fast. Sure, he can stitch someone up flawlessly, but sewing machines weren’t part of the League’s lessons. Alfred is in charge of the one at the Manor, so it only makes sense to ask him. Even so, Damian is reluctant. When he does finally ask, he nearly gives himself an attack, worrying about being scolded for not using his “full potential”. Alfred simply squeezes Damian’s shoulder, and agrees with a kind smile. The young Master finally seemed passionate about something besides vigilante work and violence. Alfred would do everything in his power to foster that.

“Just,” Damian looks down, hands clenching into fists at his side, “Do not tell the others. I would prefer this between us,” He looks at Alfred, unsuccessfully trying to hide the vulnerability in his wide emerald eyes. Alfred agrees, for now. On the conditions that Damian would have to tell his father and siblings himself, and not to far in the future either.

Damian impresses everyone with his designs, and people learn he is actually quite adorable when he’s doing something he enjoys. His classmates and professors encourage him to join the fall fashion show, which is covering “multiculturalism and the media”. Damian hesitantly agrees, though he has been making designs since the theme was announced. His room is full of crumbled paper on his floor, designs he deigned not good enough. Many of his designs are heavily influenced by his Arab culture, but he also has some Chinese-influenced designs as well. His statement piece is the hardest to get right. It involves a hijab and beautiful colors, but he just can’t get the right patter. Ripping another page and crumpling it,Damian is too concentrated to realized Tim and Dick have been creeping into his room.

“What’s this Dames?” Dick asks, startling Damian, as he looks at some of the rejected designs. Panic makes Damian defensive as he yells at them to get out, frustration fueling the dread of his family seeing such unsatisfactory work. Tim flinches, shocked by the emotion coming off of Damian, rushing out with a few crumpled papers he snuck from the floor. Damian is literally trying to shove Dick out the door. Dick turns around, because he can hear the panic in his little brother’s voice. In his Robin’ voice. “Damian,” he says softly, easily deflecting Damian. “It’s okay,” he says, wrapping his arms around Damian, reversing the situation. “What’s wrong, why are you reacting like this?” After a few minutes of struggling, Damian gives up. Slowly,he explains the situation, how he’s in the fashion program and the fashion show coming up, all the pressure to do well, the frustration of not having his statement piece yet. Dick listens, his hold turning into a hug. “From what I’ve seen,” Dick says softly, “these are all wonderful designs,Dami. Whatever you end up making will look amazing, if they look anything like your sketches.”

“It’s not enough!” Damian complains, eyes burning, but he refuses to cry. “You don’t understand!” He says, frustrated.

“Then explain it to me, why is this so important?”

“Because it is about me!” Damian’s voice cracks ask he turns away rosiness his eyes harshly. “When I was introduced to the public, as “Bruce Wayne’s biological son”, do you not remember how the newspapers reacted? They didn’t know me, or my mother, but because—because of my skin, the country I was born, I was mistrusted. Scorned. Yeah, maybe I’ve killed people, but that isn’t because of my skin color or my culture or the language I speak. I have this opportunity to speak out against that!” Damian turns to look at Dick, “I’ve tried to become better, to do better. It’s hard and unfair that none of that matters, because guests are invited to galas hosted in the house that I live in, only to make snide racist comments about “nukes” or the desert or bombs whenever Father and you all aren’t around me. How can I be better, when I’m not given the chance because people can’t see past my skin?” Dick wraps Damian into a tight hug, as wetness drips down Damian’s cheeks. “I’ve been here nearly four years—and it still happens” Damian whispers.

“Why didn’t you say anything Dami?”

“What could I say?” Damian whispers back,

“Bruce—”

“Invites these people because they are important to Wayne Enterprise.” He scoffs. “What could you do, especially if I have no proof?”

“Believe me, Damian,” Dick says seriously, pulling back to look into Damian’s eyes. “Bruce won’t invite anyone who’s racist or derogatory towards his children, back to a gala, let alone do business with him again.” He smiles a hard somewhat vicious smile. “I know because when I was first adopted, he did that for me” Damian’s eyes widen. “And if Bruce can’t defend you, you can bet your brothers will,” Damian looks unsure, but nods. “But I get it now. You’ve always used art to vent and express yourself. This design is something that would allow you to address what the media has done to and said about you.”

“It’s been,” Damian shrugs, looking down, “therapeutic. In a way I never imagined it would be.”

“Well, I think, whatever you end up designing will be amazing,” Dick smiles, and Damian looks up at the sincerity, giving his own smile smile in response. “And I expect an invitation to the fashion show!” He chuckles, causing Damian to blush. “And I bet the whole family would want to come as well,” Damian blushes, looking away once more.

“Tickets are $15 each, and available online,” Damian replies, making Dick belly laugh. “You can invite the others, if you’d like” Damian mumbles.

“Hmm,how ‘bout I invite the siblings while you invite your dad,” Damian grumbles, but agrees. “Great! Now, take a break. One night not designing won’t hurt you.” Dick says, wrapping his arm around Damian’s shoulder. ‘Might do you some good, in fact.”

Things get better after that, because after his talk with Dick, Damian gets an idea for his design. Ziba, a Persian student Damian met in his Literature class, agreed to be his model for his statement piece. She wore her hijab proudly, a solid black color, which helped with the down-to-business look the rest of the outfit screamed. Ziba’s makeup was beautiful, as Damian was putting the last touches on her. They both were quiet, nervous excitement pulsing through them both. Ziba had on white trousers that flared out a bit, to give an almost flowy feel, with black basic vegan leather square pointed toe mule flat accented by a silver buckle. Damian had made the top a cross between a tunic, a blazer, and a cape. It is white, and goes over a plain solid black turtleneck. Printed on both the buttoned blazer tunic top and the trousers are past racist articles written about Damian. In red graffiti styled letters sprayed across the news paper articles are phrases like “Lies” “Warped Perception” “Western POV” “Racist” “I was only 10”. The red paint matches the red lipstick Ziba is wearing.

Damian was nervous with his family in the audience, everyone including Alfred was there. Apparently Superman and Superboy were in attendance too, as civilians of course. Colin was there too. Damian had told his father about the fashion show, and was surprised to see how supportive he was about it. Of course that may have been the shock, as Damian had told him that morning before leaving for school. Bruce blinked, stood up and hugged Damian, before saying he couldn’t wait for the show.

Damian’s set is the last, ask the show is in alphabetical order according to last names. When it’s his turn, all of his model’s line up, and Damian is running around making sure everything is perfect. He hears the speaker introduce his collection, inviting Damian to join him on stage. Damian rushes out, brown cheeks turn red. Together they introduce all seven outfits of the collection one by one, as Damian describes his designs, the material, and the inspiration behind each one. When it get’s to Ziba’s turn, Damian’s nearly choked up. He manages to discuss this piece and it’s significance to him. At the end, Damian received a standing ovation from nearly everyone. Looking over at his family, he has to duck from hiding his flamed cheeks. All his siblings were cheering for him, while Bruce and Dick dab their eyes. Alfred has a proud look on his face, and Damian couldn’t have been happier.

He ends up getting second place, but also his own work room at the Manor. Damian begins selling his work after getting it patented (Tim demanded it), and is surprised when a number of orders are for the galas around Gotham. Dick told Bruce and the others about all the things Damian has been hearing at Galas, and they are justifiably angry. Duke begins chants of “Eat the Rich” every time he hears someone says something problematic about Damian, and that because Tim’s signal on who to take down next.

Damian’s designs become more widely popular as his family starts wearing them, as they love talking about it and how he uses sustainable methods and materials. This earns him big named clients, who start wearing Damian’s designs on the Red Carpet and premiers . Damian also likes to do work for charity, often donating dresses to high schoolers who cannot afford prom dresses or making clothes out of extra material to donate to shelters so people have clothes for job interviews and such.

(He also makes his pets clothes when he’s bored, so it’s normal to see Titus wearing a doggy hoodie with slits in it for his ears)

ANYWAYS, this is my headcanon lol

What do think about it?

—🧵🪡

Headcanon?? Bestie this a whole ass au!

As for my thoughts-

💳 💥💥 💳 💥💥💥 💳 💥💥💥💥

[study-coffee-chicago]

Stars on your Sleeve (Part 2) [A Jay Halstead Imagine]

A/N: The name of the girl is Y/N (I mostly write my imagines in second person POV...except for the one you guys might see in a few weeks) and cariña is just a nickname/term of endearment in Spanish that means sweetheart. Sorry if anyone got confused about that in part one!

"Dad," you started as you walked into Jay's office after school that day.

It was a Thursday and you had taken the bus from school to the district. It wasn't often that you did this, but you had gotten texts from both your mom and dad telling you that the current case was going to drag on and on tonight, so they wanted you at the district so that you wouldn't be home alone until two or three o'clock in the morning.

"Hi, cariña. How was your day? Learn anything interesting in school?"

"Dad," you groaned. "It's high school, half the stuff they teach me I won't ever use again."

"Well, excuse me for wanting to know about my daughter's day."

"Just can't wait for this week to be over to sleep in."

"You and me both, kid."

"Half the time you work weekends though, Dad," you pointed out.

"Comes with the sergeant title."

"And your sleeping in is like 7:00."

"Point taken. Now, did Mom pack you a few extra snacks or do you need some money for the vending machines?"

"She didn't--"

"Don't even finish that sentence, young lady," Hailey said as she burst into Jay's office. "I packed you a few extra things and you know it. You just want--"

"--Oreos," Jay and Hailey said at the same time.

"Hey, don't blame me! They taste good," you protested. "Anyway, Dad, can I use your laptop to do my homework?"

"Don't you have that school-issued one?"

"That one blocks Netflix."

Jay crossed his arms across his chest. "Homework, huh?"

"I'm just writing a paper. It's not like I'm doing math or reading something."

"What type of paper?" Hailey asked. "Because, I'm pretty sure that if it's a research paper, you need to focus."

"It's a narrative, so I don't need to be constantly focused, Mom."

"Makayla does the same thing," Adam said as he entered the office as well. "Let the kid have the laptop, Jay."

"Thanks, Adam."

"Uh," Jay groaned, "I guess."

"We also have a lead, so you wanna roll out after I give you the info?" Adam asked.

"Yeah. Sorry, Y/N, you need to go into the breakroom now."

"But why can't I stay in here?" you whined. "I want your spinny chair."

"Y/N, this is a case," your mom told you. "You know the rules: no being around the case talk. It's for your own good, we don't want to scar or scare you."

Mom, you know what I've seen, you wanted to tell her, but you knew it would be no use as your parents would never budge on this rule.

"I know, Mom."

Jay pulled his laptop from his desk along with the charger. "Rules?" he probed, holding onto the laptop and charger.

"Dad, I know the rules. Mom, c'mon, tell him."

"It's your dad's laptop, Y/N. I'm not arguing with you or him on this one."

Jay cocked his head to the side. "I'll give you the laptop after you tell me the rules...even though I know you know them."

You sighed. You went through this every time you used his laptop when he was going to be gone. "Only use my account, don't try to login to your account, and do not delete my search history."

"Here you go." He handed you his laptop and charger. "Good luck on your paper. Don't work too hard."

You went into the breakroom and opened the laptop. First, you pulled up Netflix, and then you pulled up your paper. It was your paper for your senior portfolio, which most people were putting off, seeing as you were only a freshman, you didn't need to work on it yet. But, you knew it had to be long, so starting it now would probably be helpful.

The paper was basically a narrative telling a story about each year of school. The stories had to be from two to five pages long, which meant that the paper in its entirety would be between 26 and 65 pages long. But, you didn't mind. It's not like you had to write a boring research paper. You also had to write about your career goals and one wish for your future as well, which would make the paper even longer still.

Seeing as your schooling didn't exactly match up with the American school system until you were around nine and in third grade, you had gotten permission from your teacher to just write about the sections of kindergarten, first, and second grade, as just memories from when you were six, seven, and eight years old.

You'd save the memories of six and seven for later, since you'd have to dig into the part of your brain where you were in the orphanage with your older sister, Illiana.

For now, you just scribbled down a few lines for ideas of when you were eight years old...which was pretty simple since a lot happened in your life that year.

***

"Y/N, we brought you some food if you--"

"Shut up!" Mouse hissed as the rest of the unit clambered up the stairs and into the bullpen. "She's sleeping."

Yes, when Mouse came home he returned to his job as the tech analyst of the Intelligence Unit. And, when Jay became sergeant, he pulled a few strings and got him a huge salary increase.

"I'll pull the car around front," Hailey offered.

"No," Jay whined. "That means I gotta be the bad guy and wake her up."

"Sorry, babe. I call dibs."

"Ew, guys, please keep the lovey-dovey nicknames to home. I don't need to see that," Adam joked.

"Shut up, Ruz."

Hailey swiped the keys from Jay's office and Jay went to wake you up. But, before he did, he saw the laptop, still open to both Netflix and your paper.

There wasn't much in the paper yet, as Jay had expected, only a few bullet points. His name caught his eye below the age 8 section...whatever that meant. He didn't mean to pry (well, really he did), but he closed the laptop without logging you out so that he and Hailey could take a look at it later.

"Y/N, Y/N, wake up."

You were woken up by someone gently shaking your shoulder.

"Quiero dormir, vaya," you whined. That was one thing you always did: reverted back to Spanish when you were tired. At least both Jay and Hailey understood it now because they had learned Spanish...which helped them with parenting because when they were mad at you, they'd talk in Spanish and that's how you know you were in deep shit.

"I know you want to sleep, and I'm not leaving," Jay answered. "But, we're going home so you can sleep in your bed instead of here."

"Mmmm, okay," you mumbled. You rubbed your eyes, but then decided it was too much work to get up, so you just sat up and closed your eyes once again.

"C'mon, cariña. Mom's got the car out front and then all you gotta do is stay awake until we get home, okay?"

"Mmmm," you mumbled and then stood up. He already had your backpack slung over his shoulder and was holding his laptop in the other hand. "Can I skip school tomorrow? I'm tired."

"Not a chance," Jay chuckled. "But, I can drive you to school and we can get you a frappucino on the way there."

"Mom won't be mad?"

"We don't have to tell Mom everything now do we?"

"No, we don't."

***

"What are you doing?" Hailey asked Jay as she slid into bed next to him that night. "Are you seriously checking our daughter's search history this late at night? C'mon Jay, she's a good kid. You won't find anything."

"That's not what I'm looking at. But, now that you mention it, I should probably check that, too."

"Then, what are you reading? Because I know for a fact that your case notes are definitely not as organized as that."

"Wow, Hails, you're so sweet," Jay said sarcastically. "It's Y/N's paper. The rubric was pasted at the top and it looks like she has to write about a memory from each year of her life and her career goals and a wish for the future."

"And you were snooping because...?"

"Because I saw my name. I wanna see what she says about us, Hailey."

"Jay, she loves us, baby. We're her parents. We both know that. You don't need to read her schoolwork to know that."

"Either way, I'm still reading it. Join me if you want, or go to sleep."

"Uh, fine. But if she asks, this was your idea and I will not hesitate to throw you under the bus."

Age 8, they both read to themselves, leaving/running away from orphanage

"God, no matter how many years it's been since she told us what happened, it never fails to break my heart," Hailey said.

Jay wrapped one arm around his wife. "I know, babe. I feel the exact same way."

"Hey, Y/N," the therapist started and you looked up at her. "Do you want to in that room over there and watch some tv while I talk to jay and Hailey? I can even turn on the Spanish movies for you."

"Okay!"

After getting you all set up, she left you in the room with a Spanish children's movie playing while she went to get Jay and Hailey.

"Jay and Hailey?" she asked as she entered the waiting room.

"Dr. Smith," Jay greeted.

"I have something to tell both of you, and Y/N told me it was okay that I tell you. When I asked if she wanted to be the one to tell you this, she said no because she didn't want to make you sad."

They entered the room where you had previously been and Dr. Smith sat in a chair and Jay and Hailey sat on the couch.

"What's this about?" Hailey asked.

"Well, she told me why she ran away from the orphanage."

Jay and Hailey were shocked. You'd been with them for three months and hadn't once mentioned why you ran away and what happened before Jay found you. It wasn't for lack of trying on Hailey and Jay's part, though. They tried. After all, they knew how to talk to child victims. But, they didn't want to push you too hard, and eventually, they just dropped the topic all together because they knew you'd talk about it when you were ready. Apparently, today was the day that you were ready to tell that story.

"And?" Jay pushed. "Why'd she run away?"

"She said that they came for her, the people who you were fighting," Dr. Smith said.

"Los Rebeldes," Jay said, more to Hailey than to anyone else.

"They came for her specifically?" Hailey asked.

"No, they just came to the orphanage. She said that she heard voices--male voices--telling them to get down on the ground and then some shots rang out. Her sister, Illiana, told her to hide and slipped the necklace around her neck. So, she did. She said she closed her eyes really tight and she just laid there, hiding and barely breathing. She said she heard a gunshot and then she heard Illiana scream and she heard squishing noises."

"Oh my God," Hailey gasped.

"You're saying they shot and killed her?" Jay asked, his voice cracking.

"That's what it sounded like, yes."

"How did she get out?"

"She said that she snuck out through a small door in the back of the room. She said it wasn't a real door, but it was a small door that led to the outside, by her description, it sounded about three feet tall and two feet wide."

"The waste doors," Jay muttered.

"The what?" Hailey asked.

"The waste doors...well, that's what we called them on Base anyway. They were these little doors where you could place stuff outside. Sometimes we'd put the packaging of our MRE's there or other crap we didn't need anymore. Not good for the planet, but yeah, that's what we did."

"So, Jay, you're telling me that Y/N essentially snuck out of the orphanage through a trash chute?"

"Well, we used them for waste, which is why we called them waste doors. But, I heard rumors of them being used at orphanages for parents to put their baby in a crib. They'd just open the door and place the baby in the little crib on the other side of the door."

"She moved the crib and snuck out through there?"

"If there was a crib, then she moved it and got out. If not, she just crawled out through there."

"Did she tell you anything about when she left?" Hailey asked Dr. Smith.

"She said that she didn't have much with her, just her teddy bear and that locket. But, she said that she walked for the rest of the day. And, according to her timeline, the soldiers came right after breakfast. She said she was really scared that they were going to find her and so she just kept walking. But then, she found a bit of a forest it sounded like and since it was starting to get dark and cold, she laid down."

"I found her in the middle of the night and she must've been there since sunset. No wonder she was hypothermic."

"We got her her first banana split after that therapy session," Hailey said. "I honestly don't know whether the food was to get her to try something new or to comfort us."

"Yeah, that was a rough night. I didn't even want her to leave my arms," Jay said. "Jay found me and I went home to Chicago," he read aloud. "Man, that night was rough, too. Probably worse than the night where we found out why she left."

"Now, it's crowded here, cariña so stay cerca to us or go mano a mano with me or Hailey, okay?" Jay asked you as the three of you found a parking spot at Navy Pier.

Adam, Kim, Kevin, and Will were all there as well. They had planned to go out and party and go to a bar when Jay returned home, but that changed now that he and Hailey had a kid to take care of, so they had decided to take a trip to Navy Pier.

In the airport, Jay had gotten a huge coffee from Starbucks, seeing as he had barely slept on the way home. Before coming to Navy Pier, you had gone to a place called iHOP where you had gotten some really yummy pancakes, and Adam, Kevin, and Will had made you laugh a lot and Kim spoke Spanish with you.

"What does that word mean?" you asked.

"What word?" Jay asked, looking down at you as he took your hand.

"Cr-crowded," you sounded out slowly.

"Uh, it means there's lots and lots of people."

"Oh, okay. I stay by you."

"So Y/N, what do you like to do?" Will asked you.

"I like reading and play fútbol," you told him.

"Really? Jay loves playing soccer!"

"We played back at the big house in España," you told Will excitedly. "We won and I got lots and lots of goals."

"Looks like you have a pro soccer player on your hands, little brother," Will said to Jay.

"Don't I know it."

"We go on the big thingy you showed me in the little book in the plane?" you asked Jay.

"The Ferris wheel?" You nodded excitedly. "We can do that, but let's walk around first. We might be able to play some games and win you a friend for Osito."

"Really? Osito have a friend?"

"Really," Jay promised.

As you walked down Navy Pier, you were excitedly pointing out every little thing you saw from the ducks and the seagulls to the big yachts floating down the Chicago River.

"Let's go into Garrett's, babe," Hailey suggested when they were inside the big atrium. "Give her a taste of Chicago's world-famous popcorn."

"I think that's a great idea," Jay agreed. "What do you think, cariña? Want to try some popcorn and then we'll get your favorite?"

You tilted your head to the side. "Popcorn? What is that?"

"Palomitas," Kim clarified for you in Spanish. "Hay muchos tipos diferentes de palomitas allí para probar y comprar."

"Oh, okay. Yes, please."

"What did you say to her?" Hailey whispered to Kim.

"Just gave her the Spanish translation of popcorn and then told her that there's a bunch of different types of popcorn that she can try and buy in there. But, you and Jay most definitely have your work cut out for you when it comes to learning Spanish. You're lucky that she's pretty good with English already and that I'm here to help you learn Spanish."

***

"Sleepy, cariña?" Jay asked as he heard you yawn from the backseat.

Hailey was driving and he was holding a big bag of caramel and cheddar popcorn...which Hailey was telling him not to eat all of it because she knew he would. You were in the backseat with your big stuffed bear, whom you had named Osita since she was a girl bear because she had really soft white fur and a pink ribbon tied around her. Jay had won that for you when he played a shooting game. You also had a stuffed duck that Will had won for you when he played a guess the weight game. You named him Pato...which meant duck in Spanish. You had gone on the Ferris wheel and had pointed out all the pretty things in the sky when you were up there. Hailey had never seen Jay so happy as when he was smiling wide at every little thing you pointed out and he tried to explain to you what they were.

"No," you answered as you laid your head against Osita. It was currently 3 pm Chicago time, which made it about 9 pm Spain time.

"Tell you what," Hailey started, "When we get home, we can show you your room, and then we can watch a movie and eat this popcorn. Because, if we don't start eating it soon, Jay will eat it all."

"Jay eat it all if we no eat it too?"

"Jay eats a lot," Hailey joked.

You reached your hand in front of you and towards Jay. "Palomitas please." Jay chuckled and Hailey smiled as he put some popcorn into your little outstretched hand. "Gracias."

"De nada," Jay told you.

"When we watch movie, how I get it?" you asked.

"We get it on the tv," Jay told you.

"No, how I know what they saying?"

Hailey hadn't thought that far ahead when she had suggested watching a movie. "Um," Hailey faltered. "We can make it so it's in Spanish."

"But then you no know what they say," you pointed out.

"We can put words on the bottom of the screen in English for us," Jay suggested. "Then all three of us will know what they're saying. Is that okay?"

"Okay!"

"Hailey," Jay whispered. "What are we gonna watch?"

"She's too old for princesses probably and way too young for action movies...how about Disney Channel movies? We could try High School Musical? That one's pretty good."

"You're kidding Hails. You watched that? Didn't it come out when we were like 20 or 25?"

Hailey held back a laugh. "Yes, it did. But, I babysat a lot of kids in my neighborhood who were around Y/N's age, and we'd always end up watching those Disney Channel originals."

"Okay, whatever you say, babe."

***

"I think I'm gonna bring her to bed," Jay said.

You had fallen asleep halfway through the movie. Before starting it, you had seen your room. It was purple! And, in black letters behind your bed, it said Salon de Y/N, which meant Y/N's room. Jay assumed that Kim had helped Hailey with the spelling and the boys had helped move the furniture into your room. There was also a little basket with a few things they thought you would like, such as a few different colored soccer balls and a bookshelf.

On the bookshelf, Hailey had picked out some books in Spanish that she had found at Barnes and Noble and some short chapter books in English that she used to read as a kid, such as the Nancy Drew series and Little House on the Prairie. She knew that you might need help reading them and might not be able to completely understand them all by yourself yet, but she knew that she and Jay would be there to help you.

"It's 6:00," Hailey protested. "Shouldn't we wake her up and have her stay awake for a few more hours so that her body can adjust?"

"If you're asking an adult like me that, yes, I'd stay awake. But, she's a kid. She needs her sleep. And, I'll probably be up before you anyway, so I can deal with her if she wakes us up at five in the morning."

"Okay super dad," Hailey joked. "Bring her to bed. I'll make us a quick dinner and cover this popcorn so it doesn't get stale. Can't wait for us to go to bed tonight." She winked.

"Hails, as much as I would love to take you up on that, I don't think it's a good idea when it's Y/N's first night. But, I will give you all the cuddles in the world tonight, don't you worry about that."

"As long as you didn't pick up the habit of snoring overseas then I'm all for that, babe."

***

Jay woke up to the sound of soft whimpering. It sounded like it was coming from the hallway but he couldn't be sure. He reached over Hailey and was about to grab her gun from her drawer where he knew that she kept it, but stopped when he remembered that it was probably just you. It wasn't just Jay and Hailey in the house anymore; you were there as well and that's probably where the noise was coming from. And, he didn't want to scare you by holding a gun.

He glanced over at the clock. 3 am. Yeah, sounds about right that you'd be waking up right about now since you'd slept for about nine hours and it was 9 am in Spain right now.

Jay slowly tiptoed out into the hallway, cursing himself that he hadn't left a light on or kept his and Hailey's bedroom door open so you could find them easily.

Jay reached out for the hall light switch and flicked on the lights, causing you to jump. "Hey, hey, it's just me. It's just Jay," he said calmly once he laid eyes on you. You were holding Osito and there were fresh tears running down your cheeks.

Jay never knew the force of an eight-year-old running into him could be so strong as to almost knock him over. You dropped Osito and wrapped your arms around him as if your life depended on it.

"It's okay, it's okay," Jay soothed. "What's wrong, cariña? Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"I-I no know where I was," you mumbled into his shirt. "Was dark. Think you and Hailey left, so I came to find you."

"Oh, sweetie," Jay started. "I'm sorry. I forgot to turn the light on for you in your room so that you'd know where you are. And, me and Hailey would never leave you."

"You promise?"

"I promise." Your stomach grumbled. "Hungry?" you nodded. "Alright, let's get you a sandwich and then get you back to bed."

"You eat too?" you asked.

"You know, I could go for a sandwich."

***

The next morning, Hailey rolled over to see that Jay wasn't in bed next to her and his side of the bed was cold. Then, she remembered you and walked over to your room and slowly opened the door. You looked up from the Spanish book you were reading and put a finger to your lips.

"Jay sleeping," you told Hailey.

Jay was sitting upright in your bed against the headboard, his thumb holding a place in what looked to be a Nancy Drew book.

"Did Jay read to you last night, huh?" Hailey asked as she walked closer to you and Jay.

"Yeah, he told me that Nancy does what you and Jay do with policia. Then, I sleep again and then I wake up and he sleep again, so I started reading in Spanish."

"I think we should let him sleep a little more while we go finish High School Musical and eat palomitas before Jay eats it all. Does that sound good?"

You nodded eagerly and closed your book. Then, you got out of bed and followed Hailey out of your room. And, after hearing that Jay had read to you and seeing him sleeping upright in your bed so that you'd be able to sleep, she had one more reason why she was truly head over heels for the man she married and got to call her husband.

"Look, Jay. She wrote her birthday in here for age 9," Hailey said as she pointed to the laptop screen.

"God, I don't think I'll forget that day for the rest of my life. It was such a good day."

"You are such a sap when it comes to Y/N."

"Hey! let me be sappy about our daughter, Hailey Anne. She's in high school now, high school. That means she'll be going off to college soon."

"Don't get too far ahead of yourself, sergeant," she joked. "Just keep reading this. It was your idea to snoop through her stuff after all."

"Jay, you got the stuff?" Hailey asked as she was sitting cross-legged on their bedroom floor with wrapping paper, tape, and scissors in front of her.

"Jesus, Hails," Jay laughed, "You make it sound like we're doing a drug deal."

"Well sorry if I want her birthday to go really well. Now, did you get them or not?"

"They're in here." He set a plastic bag down on the bed. He took out three framed pictures and laid them out on the bed. Of course, he made sure that the frames were different shades of purple. "Good?"

Hailey stood up and looked at the pictures. "I never know the CPD's sketch software could work miracles like this, so yeah, I'd say we did good."

Over the past month, everyone in Intelligence had told you that they were testing out a new sketch software to use to try to track down criminals. They let you play with it because they said they wanted to see what it would do...even though they knew what it did, how good it was, and it wasn't new. It was just a ploy to make sure they got your birthday gift right. They had told you to try and input someone's face from memory, someone like your older sister, Illiana.

So, when you had to go to the district for the day with Jay and Hailey, you'd ask to play with that software to work on your sketch. Little did you know, they were printing it out on fancy photo paper and putting it in a frame for your birthday. Jay had also swiped your necklace one day when you had taken it off to go swimming and had taken pictures of what your mom and dad looked like. Then, he and Hailey each took one parent and worked on making their faces through the CPD's sketch software.

"Now what the hell is this?" Jay asked as he held up a big board that Hailey had laying out in front of her as well.

"That, Jay, is so we can stick the back of the frames to it so that we don't have to give the three of them to her separately. Then, she can just take them off from it and place them wherever she wants in her room."

"You're smart. Maybe you should've gone to law school."

"Haha, very funny, Halstead. But then I wouldn't have met you."

"Eh, I beg to differ. You'd probably end up being some prosecution or defense attorney and then I'd have to testify, and after getting yelled at by you on the stand, I'd end up making an ass of myself and ask you out for a drink."

"Is that so?"

"That is very much so."

He walked up to her and grabbed her by the waist and she gave him a peck on the lips. "Hails," Jay whined. "Why'd you phone it in?"

"Because we have presents to wrap. Now, sit your ass down on the carpet and help me."

"Yes ma'am. But, damn, you're really going to be the death of me."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

***

"Before we do cake everyone, me and Hailey have one more gift for Y/N," Jay announced by tapping a fork gently against his champagne glass. Yes, the adults were drinking champagne because they were celebrating your first birthday with them as their kid. No, they wouldn't even give you one sip...but you didn't care and you didn't ask.

You had gotten spoiled all day. Will had taken you out for breakfast where you had gotten chocolate chip pancakes with all the toppings. Then, he took you to the sporting goods store where you bought an FC Madrid jersey and to Barnes Noble where you bought a few new books.

Then, when you got home, you were surprised to find everyone from Intelligence there along with some people from Med, and firehouse 51. Emilia, Mouse, and Makayla were there, and your friend, Rosa, whom Emilia had introduced you to earlier in the year at her welcome home party since Rosa was one of Emilia's little cousins.

You had gone outside and played a huge soccer game. And, when you got sick of playing soccer, Emilia busted out a makeup kit she had bought for you. And you, Makayla, Emilia, and Rosa did each other's makeup. While the four of you were doing makeup, a soccer tournament had broken out where Intelligence played Med, and then the winner of that game played Firehouse 51. Intelligence won against Med...mostly due to Jay. But, then they played 51 and they got creamed.

"Here you go, nena," Hailey said as she passed you the gift. Hailey had started calling you nena since Jay had a nickname for you, cariña, which you learned now meant sweetheart in English. So, she decided to call you nena, which meant honey. And, you and Hailey had thought it only fair if you came up with a nickname for Jay. So, the one you decided on was quite fitting in your mind: pecas...which translated to freckles. And, Will, well Will calls you Osa because your favorite animal is a bear. It's probably one of only three words he knows in Spanish next to hola and adios.

The gift was long and hard...like a piece of wood. You slowly opened the gift, wondering what else you could have possibly gotten.

You bit your lip as you finished tearing the paper off and flipped it over. "Mamí, Papí, Illiana," you whispered as you held back tears. "¿Cómo lo hicisteis?" you asked. Seeing as Jay and Hailey had been working very hard on their Spanish for the past nine months, they could understand you and could sometimes explain an English word to you in Spanish if needed.

"We didn't really need to test out the drawing thing," Jay answered. "We just needed a picture of Illiana. And, I got the pictures of your parents from the locket."

At this, you started to cry harder, remembering that day when Jay had to cut your necklace off of you in the back of the Med truck in Spain.

You stood up and hugged both Jay and Hailey at the same time. Now, you had both of your families watching over you: your biological family from in heaven and your parents in the here and now. And, your biological family now had no doubt in their mind up there that you would never, ever forget them.

"You remember what she called us that night?" Hailey asked.

"How could I forget? It was the first night she called us mom and dad. I still remember her exact words when I told her we weren't trying to replace her biological family: Son mi familia en el cielo y en mi corazon, pero vosotros sois mi familia aquí."

"They're my family in heaven and in my heart, but you are my family here."

"Exactly."

"Oh my God!" Hailey laughed. "She wrote sixth-grade: I cheated on a literature test and Mom had to come to pick me up and I got in trouble. And then, Dad went full-on dad-mode."

"No fucking way," Jay laughed as he brought the laptop closer to him and looked for the sixth-grade section. "I can't believe this is what she's going to write about!"

"Well, in her defense, it was the first time we had to ground her and the first time you went full-on, overprotective, my daughter can do no wrong dad-mode."

"Pretty sure the next time I'll do that is when she gets asked to the homecoming dance later this year."

"Jay! You will not! You will not scare the boys away from our daughter!"

"Well, they should be scared!" Jay argued. "We're both cops, babe. We can make their death look like an accident."

"Jay, what you're talking about is murder and I shouldn't have to remind you that that is illegal. If so, I am going to the Ivory Tower tomorrow to get you stripped of your sergeant title."

"Fine, fine. The next time I'll do that is when she gets her driver's license."

"Hey, on the bright side, we wouldn't have to pick her up from the principal's office then," Hailey pointed out. "She could just drive herself home."

"We wouldn't have to figure out which of us should go pick her up like last time?"

"Exactly. And I'm pretty sure she was thankful that it was you and not me who picked her up in sixth grade."

"Miss Halstead," your literature teacher said as she stalked over to you from the other side of the classroom. "Care to tell me what you have under your sleeve?"

"My arm?"

"I don't like being disrespected in my classroom. We both know you have your phone in there. And, lying to me will just make this worse."

"I-I needed it," you stammered, not wanting to have the whole class hear how stupid you were.

"For a test? You know the rules: no cheating. Principal's office, now. Grab your stuff. And, I'll be calling your parents as you walk down there."

You grabbed your backpack and started your walk to the principal's office. It's not like you had a choice...well, you did have a choice. You could've just not used your phone on the test. But, after that last grade you got on that essay and how weirdly worded the questions were, you basically had no choice but to use your phone. It's not like you were using it to look up the answers per se, but you were using it to try and understand the questions because there was no way you were going to ask that teacher.

"Mrs. Halstead, right this way," you heard the office secretary say as they led Hailey to the principal's office. Your phone was sitting on the principal's desk, the tab you had been using to cheat open and you were fiddling with the strings of your hoodie. You had thought about deleting your search history, but knew it wouldn't be of any use because Jay and Hailey would just be able to look it up with whatever police software crap that Intelligence had access to. You knew you'd be in more trouble if you deleted it and they found out that you were lying, so you decided you wouldn't delete it...even though you were regretting that decision as your phone screen stared back at you.

"May I ask why my daughter is in the principal's office when I thought she should be taking a test?" Jay and Hailey knew all about your literature test that day as you had read the book twice to be ready for it.

"That's exactly why she's in here, Mrs. Halstead," the principal told Hailey. "She was trying to cheat on her literature test."

"She wouldn't do that!" Hailey defended you. "She studied so hard!" She looked between both you and the principal, but your gaze stayed trained on the floor.

"Just take a look."

He passed Hailey your phone and she looked at the search history and the timestamps of said history. "Y/N, is this true?"

You nodded. Hailey sighed. "I'm assuming she's suspended?"

"Since this is her first academic infraction, I'm not going to suspend her. She does need to go home for the rest of the school day, though."

"Thank you. C'mon Y/N, let's go."

You hung your head as you left the middle school, Hailey holding your phone and still trying to figure out why you did this. But she knew that one thing was for sure: the minute Jay got home, he would not be happy.

***

"You're kidding me, right?" you heard Jay ask Hailey in the kitchen.

You were currently in your room, but the kitchen was right down the hall, so if you were quiet and focused enough, you could hear their conversation.

"I wish I was, Jay," Hailey said. "Just...here, take a look."

You assumed that Hailey was handing Jay the phone and he was looking at your search history.

Jay took a deep breath and restrained himself from shoving the chair into the kitchen table.

You heard his heavy footsteps coming down the hall and quickly locked your door and then sat back down on your bed.

You heard the doorknob jiggle as Jay tried to open your door.

"Y/N! ¡Abras la puerta inmediatamente!" (Open the door immediately!)

You were in deep shit if he was yelling at you in Spanish.

You didn't move from your bed.

"¡Ábrelo ahora!" (Open it now!)

"¡Estoy viniendo! ¡Calmáse!" (I'm coming! Calm yourself!) You got up from the bed and opened the door.

"Do not ever, ever tell me to calm down ever again! Do you understand me?" Jay asked angrily as he flung open your door after he had unlocked it. You nodded. "Now, I understand that you were caught cheating on a test. Care to explain that to me?"

"Not really," you sighed as you sat on your bed.

"I'm giving you one more chance to explain to me why you chose to cheat. And I suggest you tell me the truth, kid."

You looked up to be met with Hailey standing in the doorway. She nodded to you as if to say you better listen to your dad.

"Well?" he asked as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"I needed to cheat!"

"Nobody needs to cheat!"

"Well, I did!" You dug through your backpack and found the paper you had to write for the class that your teacher failed you on. "Because of this!" You threw the paper on your bed. "And because my teacher is a puta!"

"You do not call your teacher a bitch, young lady!" Jay yelled.

"Jay!" Hailey yelled. "Take the paper, go to our room and read it and calm down!"

"So Mom can tell you to calm down but I can't?"

Jay turned back to you, but Hailey grabbed his arm. "Bedroom Jay. Now." He left the room and Hailey turned to you. "As for you. You're grounded from your phone for the foreseeable future. Sorry, nena. Now, we'll be back to talk to you after we've read whatever it is you threw on your bed."

***

"We read the paper," Jay said as he and Hailey entered your room again fifteen minutes later. "And, I'm sorry for yelling. I know me and your mom are both detectives, but it'd look better if you told us why you cheated instead of leaving us to put the pieces together."

"I'm sorry, I really am. It's just, I failed that paper. And, I worked really hard on it. And, she said it wasn't a real tradition."

The paper topic was to write about a family tradition and you wrote about the Spanish tradition of eating grapes on New Year's Eve. With twelve seconds left of the year, you'd put a grape in your mouth for every second that passed. You'd try to get all twelve grapes in your mouth, but that was really hard. You wrote about the last time you did it with your family and your papí almost got all of them in your mouth while you only got three in your mouth since you were only three years old at the time.

One of the grading criteria for the paper was that it had to be a real tradition.

"She said that it wasn't a real tradition, Dad. She said that because she had never heard of it and that it sounded weird to her, that it wasn't real. So, she failed me. I also put some Spanish words in there, but I put the translations next to it. I thought it would make it more...what's the word? It's kind of like real? Like it'd make it more real to read? You know that word for it?"

"Authentic?" Hailey asked.

"Yeah, that. I thought it'd make it more authentic to read. And, I knew the material of the book. But, the questions were so confusing and I didn't want to ask her to clarify because she's mean."

"So you googled the questions to try to figure out what they were asking?" Hailey asked.

"Yes. I'm sorry. I really am. I just didn't want you to be disappointed in me and think that I've been here for four years and not know English."

"Oh, cariña." Jay crouched in front of you. "We'd never think that. I promise. And I know Mom would never think that either, right?"

"That's right," Hailey agreed.

"Now, I have to go make a phone call."

"You went off on that teacher, Jay! I don't think I've ever heard you that angry when you weren't in interrogation!" Hailey laughed.

"Well yeah! That teacher's logic and grading criteria were seriously flawed. And, you read that paper. It was really good. As Y/N put it that day, she really was a puta."

Hailey rolled her eyes.

"Wish for the future," Jay read aloud. "I wish that I could figure out why Los Rebeldes came to the orphanage and killed Illiana."

"I think that's enough snooping through her stuff for the day, babe," Hailey said, beginning to feel uncomfortable reading this. "Let's just go to bed."

"Yeah, I'm just gonna take a quick shower and I'll be back, okay? I love you." He gave Hailey a quick peck on the lips and made his way to the bathroom to take a shower.

"I love you, too."

But, Jay barely heard her. He was so lost in thought about how to get answers for you, for his daughter. Hell, he wanted those answers just as bad as you. What kind of sick bastard would come into an orphanage heavily armed and just kill innocent civilians and innocent children?

***

"Mouse," Jay said as he entered the bullpen the next morning, "I need your help with something."

"Jeez, Jay, you're late," Ruzek commented. "Where's Hailey?"

"It's her RDO. And, I promised Y/N a frappuccino because she had to wake up early for school and had to go to bed late last night because we were working a case."

"Does Hailey--"

"No, Adam. Hailey does not know that I gave our fourteen-year-old daughter sugar-laced coffee this morning. And, if you so much as say the words frappuccino, Jay, and Y/N in the same sentence, I will bump you back down to patrol so fast you won't know what hit you."

Jay started to walk towards the tech area where he assumed Mouse would be. His voice carried, so he hoped he'd heard him when he'd said he needed his help.

"Whose idea was it to give Jay all this power?" Adam asked rhetorically. "I think it's going to his head."

"I heard that Ruz!"

"You needed something, Jay?" Mouse asked as he turned around from his laptop and took a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah, can you do something off the books for me?"

"You don't even have to ask anymore, man."

"Just need to make sure you don't assign a case number to it."

"I can do that. Now, what do you need?"

Jay pulled out his phone and pulled up a Spanish newspaper article from two weeks ago. He laid the phone in front of Mouse. "This. This is why I need you."

Mouse looked at the phone and back up at Jay with raised eyebrows. "I'm gonna need you to translate that. I don't speak Spanish."

"Says that the guy who killed everyone in the orphanage that Y/N was in is meeting with his lawyer about an appeal. That son of a bitch. And, it's happening on Monday."

"He's meeting with his lawyer on Monday or you'll know if he won the appeal or not on Monday?" Mouse asked.

"He's meeting with his lawyer on Monday."

"And you need me because...?"

"Think you can hack into Spain's maximum-security federal prison system?"

"You cannot be serious."

"I am dead serious, Mouse."

"Why don't you just wait to hear the news?"

Jay sighed and took a seat next to Mouse. "Y/N has to write a paper and was using my laptop. It was this narrative thing for her senior project, so it's due in a few years. But, I'll spare you the details. Y/N had to write what one of her wishes for the future was and she wrote that she wants to know why the guy killed everyone in the orphanage. Not who, because we already know that it was Raúl Rodríguez. She wants to know why."

"That guy's the one who told them to attack the orphanage? The one that killed her sister, right?"

"That's the prick."

"Okay, I'll see what I can do. I'd know that if it was my sister or my kid that I'd want to know."

"Thanks, man."

"Video and audio?"

"Yeah. I'm probably gonna get Emilia in on this too to translate."

"Why? Don't you and Hailey speak Spanish?"

"We do, but they're gonna talk really fast and I probably don't know law lingo except for the word lawyer."

"Fair enough. I'll get to work."

***

"Hails, Hails," Jay shook Hailey awake.

"Jay? Why are you home so late?" she asked as she rolled over and opened her eyes. It was almost 11:30 and she had gone to bed half an hour ago...she thought Jay would've been home by 11:00.

"Paperwork," Jay answered honestly. He instantly regretted his decision of waking Hailey up knowing her history of insomnia. "But, I shouldn't have woke you up. I'm sorry, babe."

"No, I'm awake now. What's up?" She sat up in bed and turned on the lamp to see Jay changing out of his clothes and into his pajama pants and an old t-shirt. "You don't have to sleep with a shirt on you know."

Jay smirked. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? But, don't want our daughter to walk in on me shirtless."

"She's spending the night at Rosa's," Hailey informed him.

"In that case..." Jay trailed off and took off his t-shirt along with his pajama pants so that he was just in his boxers. "Better?"

"Much better."

Jay pulled back the covers on his side of the bed and slid in next to his wife. She cuddled into his side and he wrapped an arm around her.

"What'd you want to tell me?" she asked.

"How do you know I wanted to tell you something?"

"You had that look in your eye, Jay Halstead. Now, tell me."

"So persuasive." He rolled his eyes playfully.

"Shut up."

"You love it, though." He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "You know how Y/N's biggest wish was to know why Raúl Rodríguez attacked the orphanage?"

"Mhmm," she mumbled.

"Well, I'm gonna find out why."

She pulled away from him. "What? How? You're going to Spain? To interrogate him? You know the CPD doesn't have jurisdiction there even though you were a ranger there, right?"

"Hails, I'm not going overseas to find him. I promise you that."

"Okay." She settled back into his embrace. "Then what are you doing?"

"Having Mouse see if he can hack into the prison system so that I can watch the lawyer talk to him."

"And you're going to be able to understand everything they're saying?"

"No, but Emilia will."

"You called her and told her your plan before you told me?"

"No! The only person who knows is Mouse. I figured I'd call Emilia tomorrow. Like I said, I was just at the district late doing paperwork."

"Okay, I believe you. And, we're not going to have her in the room with us, Y/N that is? We're going to tell her why he did this so she doesn't have to hear it from him?"

"Precisely. Now, am I right in assuming that since Y/N's gone for the night that we can be as loud as we want?"

"You are very much correct in that." Then, he gave her a kiss...and this time, he didn't phone it in at a peck.

***

You were sitting in the breakroom Monday afternoon trying to do some American history homework. There was so much reading involved, but it was okay because you liked history. And, there were pictures in the textbook...it wasn't like you were reading Romeo and Juliet like you had to do in English class.

You knew Emilia was here because she had brought you some fries, much to your mom and dad's dismay since your mom had packed you a few extra snacks. But, Emilia said she had to hold up her reputation as your cool aunt...even if she wasn't related to you whatsoever. And so far, she was holding it up.

You didn't know why she was here, but you assumed it was because Kim was in the field and they needed someone to translate audio. Sometimes Jay would call in Emilia if he knew that she wasn't working to do some translating so he didn't have to deal with calling up a patrolman. You also knew from hearing some of his conversations with Will that Will wanted to ask her out.

And, you hoped she say yes. You wanted Emilia to be your actual aunt. Apparently, she had a thing for doctors according to Jay's side of the phone conversations you'd heard, so you hoped it'd work out if your uncle Will ever got the balls to ask her out.

All of a sudden, Emilia came into Jay's office and he took off running. Hailey saw this and she started following them.

"What?" you asked yourself.

They always would tell you if they had to leave and they'd always be sure to tell you they loved you before they left.

You quietly walked out of the breakroom and towards where you had seen them running to. You assumed they were in the tech area because of the direction they ran in and the fact that whenever Emilia was here, she was most likely in the tech room.

As you got closer, you started hearing Spanish.

Someone talking about an attack...an attack on an orphanage.

A man said it was in the Tabernas Desert.

You peeked your head around the corner to see that on the screen there was a man in a nice suit and someone sitting at a table with handcuffs on.

"Anything we don't already know?" Hailey asked.

"Not that it sounds like right now," Emilia answered. "They're just talking about the orphanage Y/N and Illiana were in and where it was."

So this is the guy who did it. This was the guy--no, the monster--who led the attack that killed your sister.

"The lawyer just asked Rodríguez why he did it," Emilia said.

"And?" Jay asked

"Jay, I need to be able to hear them talk, so shut up."

Jay held his hands up in a sign of surrender.

"The lawyer just asked if it was something personal, something like Rodríguez being an orphan and he didn't have a good experience there so he attacked it, something that would tug at the board of appeals heartstrings essentially." There was a pause as Emilia continued listening. "He said no." She paused again. "Oh my God."

"What?" Jay asked frantically. "Why did that prick kill innocent children?"

"He said he ordered the attack because the orphanage was receiving aid from the US, for things such as food, clothing, and basic necessities."

"Un-fucking-believable." Jay wanted to punch something, but he restrained himself. "So, because our country was helping those who couldn't help themselves, this prick went after them?"

"That's what it sounds like. I'm sorry, Jay."

"Hails, how are we going to tell Y/N?"

"You guys don't have to tell me," you said as you made your presence known. "I heard the whole thing."

Jay sighed. "I'm sorry cariña, really I am. I'm sorry that this happened to you. That you had to find out this way. That this was the reason for what that monster did. I'm sorry."

"Dad read my outline?" you asked, turning to Hailey.

"Yeah, nena, he did. It was just open and you know him, he couldn't stop himself."

"Because he's a detective before he's a sergeant, just like Nancy Drew," you said, bringing it back to the books you'd used to read with your dad every night when you had just come over to the states from Spain and were working on your English.

"This should never have happened," Jay said softly as he walked over to you and brought you into a tight hug. "People that do these kinds of horrific acts shouldn't have the right to be born, much less to live."

"But if that wouldn't have happened you wouldn't have found me. And I wouldn't have found my forever Mom and Dad."

A/N: I wrote over 6.5k words to get this posted today! That's a new personal record for me! Also, my neuroscience class is kicking my butt right now, so if I don't update as frequently, that's why. Hopefully, I'll get one out every week or every two weeks at the latest. Please like/reblog and comment because I love getting feedback and it keeps me motivated to write. If you want to be added to the taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you! 

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e 

[aminiatureworld]

Melusine

Characters: Albedo, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,221

Warnings: Brief depiction of pseudo-drowning

Premise: In which the reader’s somewhat inexplicable fear of water prompts questioning

Author’s Note: This prompt reminded me of the book (and series) The Tail of Emily Windsnap, which, if you haven’t read at least the first book, you totally should read as it’s just really a wonderful read. The descriptions of the ocean are especially atmospheric. Anyways, as for the prompt, I had a lot of fun. I tried to write a mermaid story in middle school and while it didn’t go that well I have a lot of nostalgia for the mermaid genre. Though this was more about the discovery than actually being a mermaid.

Also the title is a pseudo-historical reference.

Albedo

The first time it had happened Albedo had brushed off the whole incident as completely explainable. After all, it wasn’t as if you hadn’t explained what had happened.

You two had been sitting on one of the craggy hills of the Whispering Woods, you sprawled on the grass, Albedo attempting to paint a landscape of Mondstadt, one of the more ambitious paintings in his current portfolio. Especially since he had traded his more opaque oils for the gentler tones of watercolors. At one point he must have made some sort of noise of frustration, for you lifted yourself out of the shade and made your way over to the canvas.

“That looks absolutely lovely Albedo!” Your smile had always had a calming affect on the alchemist, and this time was no different. Albedo could feel the tension slowly leeching away from his shoulders.

“Do you think so? I’m afraid that I still can’t handle all the odd shadows the buildings cast.”

“The buildings look perfect to me! Though if you feel that way, maybe you could lighten the side facing the sun a little more instead of darkening the area over here? So the shade doesn’t become too muddy.”

“You have a wonderful eye, you know,” Albedo replied, smiling at the way your mind had immediately jumped to the conclusion that he had drawn as well. Reaching for the bowl of water next to him Albedo went to water his brush a little more before trying again.

Unfortunately that’s when things appeared to have taken a turn for the wrong. Instead of reaching over the bowl Albedo’s elbow collided with the glass. Though the grass was soft and close enough to prevent any damage, that didn’t stop all the muddied water from spilling out over the brim and right over you. You let out a sort of squeak, and for a moment Albedo though it was just the initial shock, but then the expression on your face came into view and Albedo could immediately sense you were seconds away from panic.

“Is something wrong?”

“I, I don’t like water very much,” you let out a strained laugh. “I just, I don’t know. I really, really don’t like water.”

“I’m so sorry,” Albedo immediately replied.

Taking off his coat he did his best to dry you off, wiping off your arms and attempting a valiant effort with your now sopping clothes. Though you assured him that it would be alright the alchemist could sense those were only platitudes, and it wasn’t until you seemed significantly calmer that Albedo turned to pick up the bowl and refill it in Cider Lake. And though a part of his mind wished to delve deeper into what had happened he pulled himself back, figuring it wouldn’t help you if he was suddenly enquiring over something you were afraid of.

Now perhaps that should have been the long and the short of it, but the revelation had begun to make Albedo see water everywhere and, more importantly, see how much it appeared to affect you every time you appeared to come in close contact with it.

Thankfully you didn’t seem to have trouble with water in glasses, at least as long as someone was actively drinking it. If not however you would glance at the glass every so often, as if it were your mortal enemy, waiting to catch you off guard to it might tip its contents all over your clothes. Other things, like obsessively drying your wands after washing them and draping layers of towels over your shoulders when you washed your hair, also became apparent. Suddenly Albedo couldn’t stop noticing your discomfort, and the more he noticed the more he wished he could do something about it.

“Exposure therapy?”

“Yes.”

You were sitting on Albedo’s desk, leaning slightly over your partner, a slightly bemused look on your face. It had been about three weeks since the incident, and finally Albedo thought he might have found some sort of solution to your problem. Now he eagerly pressed forward, figuring you’d understand once he’d explained everything fully.

“I know that it might seem counterproductive to subject you to what gets a frightened reaction out of you, but if you subject a person to something they’re afraid of in very small doses over a long period of time, usually they begin to feel a little less afraid of the thing in question. It’s sort of like how you can sometimes make allergies less serious by slowly exposing the patient to more and more of the allergen.”

“I understand where your line of thought is coming from Albedo, but I’m really not sure if this is the best idea for me.”

“I know that it might seem daunting at first. I would not bring up the topic if you didn’t seem so miserable sometimes. I worry that you might become so unhappy by your fear that it will become debilitating eventually. That is why I decided to bring up the option.”

“I really appreciate you going out of your way to think about me Albedo. I really do. I think what you’re trying to do is very kind and noble of you. But in all honesty I don’t think that’s going to work. You see, the way my fear works, I just don’t think that exposure is going to make it go away.”

“Are you sure?” Albedo pressed on, still hoping that you might see the benefit in what he was suggesting. “It won’t start with something drastic I promise. And at the end of the day, I think that it will help a lot.”

“I understand that, I really do, but like I said my fear doesn’t work that way.” You paused, as if sensing the sinking of your partner’s heart, before smiling slightly. “If it makes you feel any better I promise to give it some more thought. Alright?”

“Thank you,” Albedo replied, though in his mind he knew that you thinking about it probably wouldn’t change anything.

Thus the cycle continued, with Albedo growing more and more uneasy. He didn’t bring it up with you again, sensing it would be walking over some invisible line, but still his mind whirled in trying to understand what you meant. If your fear wasn’t simply irrational, then surely something must have happened once. Though the alchemist didn’t pry, surely if you wanted him to know you would tell him in your own time, he had to admit that sometimes his brain went off on various daydreams, as if trying to decide for itself what might have happened.

As it turned out, Albedo didn’t have to speculate for long. Nor did the truth come out the way that he had expected.

You two were on the very small dock at Cider Lake, checking the rafts were tied down properly before the beginning of the stormy season that wreaked havoc through Mondstadt once every year. Though normally you probably would have never done such a thing the Guild was spread thin, preparing for storms, though not nearly as fierce as Dvalin’s winds, that would blow shingles off roofs and destabilize the occasional out of place rock on the wall. As of such the task of shielding the boats used to carry supplies from the City to the larger Mondstadt region had fallen to you. Albedo had tagged along, knowing how uncomfortable the experience might make you feel, and unwilling to leave you alone in a state of anxiety.

“These remaining boats are the ones we need to tie down. They’re too big to be stored in the sheds inside the City.”

“I see,” Albedo replied, already moving to nail the tarp down on one of them as you secured the roping. Already the air seemed alive with the fresh smell of impending rain.

“It’s too bad really, we can’t guarantee these boats’ safety the way we can the others. Thankfully these ones are mostly insured by the Knights. Though really maybe we should build a larger shed,” you mused to yourself, keeping up the tell-tale stream of conversation that Albedo knew you used to distract yourself.

“Perhaps you can make a query via the Guild?”

“Perhaps,” you mused. “Or I might be able to ask Amber.”

Albedo replied that would be a good idea, turning to put another temporary nail onto the top of the longboat. All seemed alright for a moment, then there was a shriek and a terrific splashing sound. Whirling around Albedo had just enough time to find your head in the water before you seemed to seize up and your head dipped below the still crystal-clear waves.

Immediately Albedo stripped himself of his coat and dove in. Though no amazing swimmer himself the alchemist was hardly the worst at staying afloat, and even if he only knew a select few amount of swim strokes that paled in comparison to the idea of you drowning. Making his way over to you he fought the panic rising up inside of him, the part of his brain that said it would be much more difficult to rescue someone terrified of water.

However almost as soon as Albedo approached you he noticed that something was distinctly off. Firstly you didn’t seem like you were drowning, in fact you appeared quite graceful in the water, swishing softly back and forth. Secondly the reason for said grace quickly became apparent to Albedo. For in the spot where your legs should have been, indeed in the spot where your legs had been mere moment ago was something long and slightly shimmery and distinctly fish-like.

Letting his mouth fall open Albedo immediately hoisted himself up above the water, choking on the gasp of breath he had found himself taking. What was that, what in all of Teyvat was that? You were half fish. How were you half fish? Did such a thing even exist, for Albedo had certainly never heard of it! Though the alchemist later admitted that in the moment such fantasy creatures as merfolk had completely fallen out of his head, there was something distinctly different than reading about something in a book and seeing it in real life.

Dragging himself onto the shores of Cider Lake, Albedo waited for you to emerge, still breathing heavily from what had just passed. His brain seemed to shut off them, for he found himself with no questions to ask. You were a mermaid, you were simply a mermaid. There was nothing more to do or say about it.

Eventually you joined him on the beach. Albedo watched in an odd sort of fascination as your legs emerged from the scaley fin which your lower body was now made up of. For a moment individual spots of iridescent seemed to remain, but soon your limbs were back to normal, ignoring the fact that you were soaking wet.

“So now you know why I said exposure therapy wouldn’t work out,” you said, letting a grim sort of laugh escape your lips.

“You… you are a… a…”

“A merfolk, yeah,” you laughed awkwardly. “Not sure why I get stuck with the weird power that is more annoying than good but, you know, oops?”

Albedo could sense your vulnerability, but try as he might he couldn’t get the words to come out of his throat. For a moment he sat there, gasping like a fish, but finally the expression of muted misery on your face wormed its way into his brain and finally Albedo felt as if he had regained some ability to talk.

“I think it’s fascinating.”

“Of course you do.”

“No, really. And not just because this is something I’ve never experienced or seen before. Though it was really surprising, it was also wonderful. As an alchemist you study all the wonders and anomalies of nature, and in doing so you see all these differences aren’t just something to be written down, but they also beautiful. And so I think you’re really beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you replied, though you still seemed uncomfortable. “I just, yeah…”

Reaching over to find your hand in his Albedo squeezed your palm softly. For a moment you did nothing, then, slowly, you leaned your head on Albedo’s shoulder. Letting you stay there Albedo found himself wishing that he could convey all the emotions he felt in that moment to you.

“I know that it can be difficult to talk about things that you’ve kept secret, especially when you feel like they make you stand out in a bad way. But I promise, there is nothing wrong with that. And I hope if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way that I can apologize.”

“Thanks Albedo,” you murmured. “You don’t have to say sorry, but thanks anyways.”

“Always.”

“I love you, you know?”

“I love you too.”

Albedo planted a soft kiss on your forehead. As the boats sat, woefully forgotten, the two of you basked in each other’s presence. For Albedo a mystery had been solved, and explanation given that, while not necessarily scientific, was certainly satisfactory. Yet at that moment he couldn’t care less about it. All he could think about was how lonely it must have been, and how, if he could help it, you would never feel isolated in your discomfort or in your secret ever again.

[exoticarmyofcrowns]

sing for me | kth

pairing: taehyung x fem!reader

summary: you have been living with your roommate for well over a year and the unresolved sexual tension between the two of you finally comes to a head

genre: romance, smut (VERY 18+ not for the littles), roommates au

warnings: masturbation, vouyerism??, fingering, thigh riding, attempted dirty talk, breath play, slight power play???, excessive use of the word “baby” and other pet names, kinda awkward discussion of feelings thrown in bc my characters never shut up when i want them to get it on sorry

word count: ~6.6k

a/n: hello~ um... i have no explanation for this. i am like half ashamed and half proud of this??? idek man. all i know is that i couldn’t have done it without @sugaerie​ so thank you so much my queen i love uuuu

You step through the door of your apartment, feet practically screaming with relief as you kick off your shoes.

Work was really kicking your ass lately. Add that together with the stress of grad school and you had a deadly concoction not even your favorite tea and copious amount of ibuprofen could protect you from. Your job as a cashier was pretty easy, you can’t lie, but constantly standing and running around the store did a number on your poor feet. Thank god you had weekends off—a perk of having worked there so long you practically had the manager wrapped around your pinky when it came time for scheduling—so you could sleep in for once.

Tossing your keys on the counter, you spare a glance at the clock above the stove as you walk into your small kitchen. It’s about a quarter to midnight. You figure Taehyung is still out with his friends, hitting up one of the bars downtown.

You sigh heavily at the thought of your roommate. Not because anything wrong with him. Taehyung is nothing short of incredible. He’s sweet and kind, always greeting you with the most adorable boxy smile that makes you feel like the only person in the universe. People gravitate toward him just as easily as he draws them in, a natural warmth that instantly puts others at ease in his presence. He’s generous and thoughtful, never missing an opportunity to surprise you at work with a coffee or just to see you. Those shifts are your favorites and maybe you’re a little spoiled because you often find yourself glancing at the entrance more often than not, trying to see if you can spot his dark, curly head from your register.

Not to mention Taehyung is incredibly stunning. Long dark curls frame his face in the most intimidatingly beautiful way it’s often hard to look away from him. He’s got piercing dark eyes that can stare right into your soul but that also crinkle beautifully at the corners when he smiles. His fashion sense is killer, obscure brands and fabrics lining his closet almost like a museum. You’re not sure how but he can wear just about anything and still manage to look like he just stepped off a runway.

He works as a freelance photographer and has quite the sizeable following on social media. He’s passionate about his work and it shows in the quality of his photos. You know next to nothing about photography but even you can see that the beauty and skill with which he wields his camera is nothing short of magical. Commissions are not hard to come by for him, though you’re more than positive it has just as much to do with Taehyung himself as it does his beautiful portfolio.

No, there is absolutely nothing wrong with Taehyung.

Only that he’s perfect and you have a massive crush on him.

Exhaling tiredly, you run a heavy hand down your face. Anyone else would be ecstatic about having such a wonderful, attractive roommate but you know things like this can only end in disaster. More than anything, Taehyung is your friend—your best friend, you would argue—and involving feelings into your relationship can only end poorly. The whole roommates thing just adds another layer of complication that is better left alone. You don’t shit where you eat, after all.

But it’s difficult. Taehyung is just so nice and likeable it’s unreal. You often find your thoughts wandering to dangerous places when you both are curled up on the couch together during movie nights, blankets and pillows and snacks scattered all over the living room, while he curls his body around you without a second thought. He’s naturally tactile, you try to remind yourself in an effort to calm your racing pulse but then he’ll laugh at something happening in the movie, his cheeks plumping up adorably, and you know you’re a lost cause as you feel your heart melt all over again.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to ignore your feelings for your roommate and you know something has to give eventually. In the last couple of weeks, there seemed to have been a shift in the air whenever you were around each other. Taehyung was still your adorable and playful friend but the hugs seemed longer, the touches more tender and lingering. You even think you’ve caught him staring at you a few times, a strange new darkness simmering beneath the chocolate irises.

Flushing with embarrassment and shame, you bury your face into your hands. Of course not. You’re just being ridiculously optimistic. You pull out a clean glass from the cupboard and fill it with water from the sink, hoping to dampen the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Cleaning up, you decide to pamper yourself with a long hot shower complete with a nice sugar scrub and an in-shower face mask. You even spring for a shave, already excited for the feel of your sheets against the smooth, moisturized expanse of your legs. It’s the little things.

You hum lightly under your breath, already feeling the residual tension from the week bleed out as you gently massage your favorite lotion into your skin. Finishing up, you feel much more relaxed and so wonderfully clean you can’t help the smile that graces your lips as you move to head back to your room.

“___.”

It’s faint, so faint you think you imagine it but it still makes you freeze as you step out of the bathroom. Glancing down the short hallway that leads to your room, you blink for several seconds and wait to see if you hear it again. When nothing happens, you feel your heart resume its normal pace before rolling your eyes at yourself and continuing on to your room.

“___.”

This time it’s unmistakable and you can’t help the way the sound of your name makes you jump in fear. Now you’re in full-on panic mode and you anxiously scan the apartment. Your eyes catch on the faint light emanating from Taehyung’s room and you relax slightly. How had you not realized he was home already?

Your relief quickly morphs into confusion. Why would Taehyung be calling for you? Did he need something? Was he hurt? Stifling your self-induced panic, you quietly make your way over to his door. Despite having been in his room multiple times before, something feels off now. Almost like you shouldn’t be there. You can’t quite put your finger on it but something about the whole situation has you on edge…

You shake it off. It’s fine. You’ll just casually peep through the slightly ajar door and make sure everything is okay before marching off to bed to enjoy your evening in. Simple as that, right?

Wrong.

Whatever you thought you were going to see past the small opening of his door doesn’t hold a candle to the image that will undoubtedly be burned into your memory forever.

There, laying casually on his bed, is Taehyung. That in and of itself is not out of the ordinary. Except for the fact that he is naked save for the boxers he normally wears to bed, with a hand pulling desperately at his painfully red length.

It’s suddenly hard to breathe, air catching so violently in your throat you nearly choke audibly. Slapping a hand over your mouth and nose, you will yourself to calm down enough to take in the scene before you. Taehyung’s long legs are splayed almost elegantly across his sheets, deliciously thick thigh muscles clenching and unclenching from his ministrations. His hand glides skillfully over his cock, alternating between slow, languid tugs and fast, unyielding strokes. He throws his head back before tucking his chin in briefly, tongue flicking out to wet his lips before he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. A hiss of pleasure melts into a throaty groan and heat pools rapidly in the pit of your stomach.

A voice in the back of your mind screams for you to get away while you can. You shouldn’t be here. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve lusted after your roommate, how long you’ve wanted to push him against any flat surface and have your way with him or let him have his way with you. It doesn’t matter that you want to do couple-y things with him too, like hold his hand and kiss those soft, pink lips because you are roommates—friends—and a fling like that could only end in disaster, especially when he doesn’t feel the same way. It doesn’t matter and you have to leave now before—

“___,” Taehyung groans once again, hands caressing up his lean stomach and you’re distracted by the way his muscles ripple with the attention. “Are you just going to stand there or are you gonna come help me?”

Something between a squeak and a cough leaves your throat in that instant and you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. You can’t bring yourself to move for a good second but Taehyung lets out another low moan and your feet move of their own accord into the bedroom.

If you thought he was beautiful before, he is absolutely glowing in the soft light of his bedside lamp. A light sheen of sweat coats his skin and you are overwhelmed with the urge to lick a stray bead that travels down his neck. Your breath is coming out in short pants and you try to subtly squeeze your thighs together to ease the ache. This does not go unnoticed.

“Hello, darling.” The words leave his lips in a low purr and a shiver zips down your spine. He’s smirking at you, hands still gripping his length but his pace has slowed significantly as if giving you a show. He seems perfectly comfortable despite the lack clothing, completely unfazed by your blatant staring. Like he wants you to look at him and only him. The thought has your face burning.

“T-Tae, what are you doing?”

“Isn’t is obvious, sweetheart? Surely I don’t need to spell it out for you, hm?” A particularly wet pass over his dick has him sucking in a gasp and you find you can’t look away. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and Taehyung fixates on the motion, pupils blown wide and darkening further.

“Although you haven’t picked up on my blatant flirting so maybe I should.”

That snaps you out of your reverie. “Flirting?” You hate the way your voice sounds so weak and vulnerable but it can’t be helped.

“I haven’t exactly been subtle, ___. I’ve been—fuck—I’ve been trying to drop hints for the last few weeks now, hell, the last few months but you never n-notice.” He tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth again before releasing a heavy sigh.

Your head is spinning. This Taehyung is so different from the one you’re used to—yes, he’s still the same incorrigible flirt, but where he is usually giggly and playful he is now sensual and downright sinful. You think back over the past few weeks, the lingering touches, the casual hugs. Taehyung has always been touchy but they had felt charged with something else entirely. It’s good to know you hadn’t been making that up.

“I…” You truly don’t know what to say for yourself. “I didn’t know,” you murmur, feeling very very small all of a sudden.

Taehyung immediately stills at your tone and misinterprets it as discomfort.  “Oh. Oh god, ___, I’m so sorry.” Wrenching his hand away from himself, he scrambles on the bed, looking up at you with earnest, remorseful eyes. The waistband of his boxers snap shut in his frenzy and you almost mourn the loss of the desire-tinted skin. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just thought that maybe you…maybe you felt the same?”

You’re so taken aback by the complete 180 he’s made that your response gets caught in the whirlwind of your thoughts, This is more like the Taehyung you know, kind and considerate, and you almost forget the situation you’re in. Almost.

“N-No!” you stammer, eager to assuage his uncertainty. “I mean, yes, I-I…” You close your eyes tightly. “I do…feel the same.”

The way Taehyung looks at you after your stunted confession has your heart auditioning for a marathon and goosebumps prickling across your skin. You may as well have just hung all the stars in the sky with the amount of adoration swimming in his warm irises.

“I’m glad,” he grins brightly at you and you can’t help but smile back. You bite your lip out of habit and the smile fades from his face as he watches you.

Swallowing thickly, he rasps, “___, c-can I kiss you? Please.”

The desperation in his voice is not something you expect and a jolt of electricity zings down your spine. Dazed, you nod. That’s all Taehyung needs before he practically launches himself to his feet to grab you by the waist and pull you to him. His hand—the other hand that was not touching himself—cradles your face as he bends down to brush your noses together. A moment passes, Taehyung staring into your eyes to give you room to pull away. When you don’t, he smiles briefly to himself before surging forward to connect your lips.

The kiss is soft and warm, exchanging only the slightest bit of pressure as if you both are worried that you’ll frighten the other. Which is ridiculous, you think, since you have yet to run away. You bounce up on your toes to alleviate the reach for Taehyung and kiss him harder. He hums appreciatively as he nips at you, the sound tingling from your lips and down the length of your body. You shiver in his hold and move to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. The distance disappears between you two and you feel his arousal poking at your stomach. You break the kiss to look down between you, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Glancing up at Taehyung from beneath your eyelashes, you marvel at how positively wrecked he looks. He’s still damp with sweat but his mouth is slightly swollen from your kisses and his eyes are so blown out they’re practically black with desire. You feel yourself clench hopelessly as the blood rushes loudly in your ears.

“Can I—Can I watch you?”

You’re just as surprised as Taehyung is to hear those words leave your mouth but you’re not quite thinking straight, not when he looks like that and you finally have him in a way you never thought you would. It’s overwhelming, to say the least, and you want to savor every moment together.

Taehyung doesn’t seem to be faring much better, the request making his breathing turn heavy as he leans down to rest his forehead against yours. “Are you sure, ___? Are you absolutely sure? Because once we start, I don’t think I can stop.”

Peeking up at him coyly, you respond, “Who says I’ll want you to?”

A beat. Then, Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut and practically growls at your words. His arm tightens around your waist and crushes your body to him as if trying to mold you together. You love it.

“Then sit back and enjoy the show.” His lips quirk into a lascivious smirk before crashing your mouths together once again. This kiss is different than the previous one, not one bit of hesitation lingering now. Taehyung’s tongue licks along the seam of your mouth insistently and your legs turn to jelly as you open up for him.

The kiss is over too soon but before you can mourn the loss of his lips, he pushes you down onto the bed and resumes his spot against the pillows. Tugging on his boxers, Taehyung pulls them down to discard them somewhere behind you. Heat pulses through you at the sight of his exposed flesh and your thighs rub together once again.

Taking himself in hand, Taehyung spreads his legs and begins a torturously slow pace. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of this.” All the air in your lungs leaves you at the confession. You can’t even think clearly, much less think up a semi-coherent response, but he doesn’t seem deterred by your silence.

“I’ve always—shit—I’ve always wanted t-to kiss that pretty little mouth of yours, ravage it until you can’t think. Your mouth, your neck, anything I could get my lips on.” Your eyes eagerly take in the sight of the milky substance beading at the tip of his cock and making his passes even messier.

“Ah, fuck, I-I wondered what kind of sounds you would make. If you would gasp and sigh or if I could make you scream.” He twists his wrist as he glides over the head of his length and he gasps out loud, his breathing rough and ragged and oh so lovely.

“I’ve thought about what it would take you to make you beg for it.”

A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it and heat blooms across your cheeks. Taehyung stills for a moment before resuming with a smirk.

“Oh? Does my baby like the sound of that? Of me making you beg for my cock?” You nod, stunned and aroused beyond belief. It’s as if your brain has short-circuited and all you can think about is the fantasy that Taehyung so beautifully illustrates for you.

“Dirty girl,” he chuckles, tonguing the corner of his lips. “I should have guessed at what a desperate little thing you’d be. Asking me to stroke my dick while you watch.” He tuts playfully, eyes never leaving yours.

Breathing has become steadily more difficult and you’re acutely aware of the dampness between your legs. You want nothing more than to relieve the ache but you’re so transfixed on the beautiful man laid out in front of you that you can do nothing more than squeeze your thighs together.

“Look at you,” Taehyung’s eyes rake down your form, taking in your lust-darkened gaze and heaving chest before lingering on the apex of your tensed thighs. “I bet you’re dripping, aren’t you? So eager to take my cock that I could just slip right in if I wanted to, hm?” Again you nod, fingers twitching as you grip the sheets beneath you. He laughs lowly and the sound washes over you and settles deep in your stomach.

“God, I bet you’d taste so sweet on my tongue. I would spend hours just buried between your legs if you’d let me. Every time you prance around the apartment in those scraps you call shorts, I just want to bend you over the couch and fuck you until you can’t walk. Would you like that, baby girl? Want me to sink my cock into that sweet cunt of yours? Make it mine, over and over again?”

You’re practically panting now, desperate sounds ripping themselves from your throat as Taehyung stares at you intensely, hand never faltering on his swollen erection. He seems to take pity on you because in the next moment, he murmurs a deep, “Come here, baby.”

Snapping into action, you nearly stumble over yourself in your haste to be close to him. He smiles, fondness flickering in his eyes beneath the lust at your eagerness. You crawl forward until you are settled on your knees between his legs. A feeling of shyness settles over you—absurd, given the circumstances—and you find yourself unable to meet his gaze. A hand winds around your waist and pulls you to him, forcing you to straddle one of his thighs. You feel a finger slip under your chin to coax you into looking at him. When you do, Taehyung offers a sweet smile.

“You still with me, sweetheart?” You go to nod but Taehyung clicks his tongue. “I need to hear you say it, ___.”

“Yes.” You’re proud that your voice doesn’t shake. “I want you, Tae.”

The finger on your chin turns into a forceful grip as he crashes your mouths together once again. It’s messy and desperate and you can’t help the loud moan that Taehyung swallows gleefully. You welcome his tongue into your mouth and when you give it a pointed suck, he lets out an answering groan low in his throat.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he pants against your cheek, planting wet kisses down your jaw and to the length of your neck. His lips meet the collar of your shirt but before he can even ask, you’re wrenching it off your body and onto the ground.

Taehyung seems at a loss for the first time since you’d walked into his room and you revel in the swell of pride that overtakes you. He can’t help but ogle greedily at the newly-exposed skin and you feel powerful knowing that you have his undivided attention.

Shaking himself out of his daze, Taehyung places a gentle kiss right above your heart before slowly making his way lower. The gesture is not lost on you and you find yourself melting further into his touch as your hand wraps around to tangle in the hairs at the nape of his neck. You can feel two hands ghost up your sides to tease the undersides of your breasts and you inhale sharply, chest pushing up into his mouth. Taehyung breathes a laugh onto your skin before cupping the soft flesh and placing almost reverent kisses upon their stiff peaks.

“Tae, please,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut at the onslaught of sensations he is inflicting on you.

“Hmm, I like hearing you beg for me.” His tongue flicks against your pebbled nipple and you cry out, unable to hold back anymore. “My desperate baby girl.”

“T-Tae, ah, please don’t tease.”

“Don’t tease?” He punctuates the question with a sharp squeeze. “But you’ve been teasing me for well over a year, no? Walking around the apartment practically naked, with nothing but a t-shirt or these poor excuse for shorts.” Taehyung’s hands leave a lingering pinch before gliding down the length of your torso to the hem of your sleep shorts. Hooking a finger inside, he snaps the elastic back in place and you gasp. “No panties?” He asks in wonder, eyes fixed on your lower half.

Swallowing, you murmur, “I-I don’t usually wear them to bed.”

He lets out a throaty groan. “Fuck, you really—” He cuts himself off with another sharp exhale, head tipping backward as he squeezes his eyes shut as if in pain. Something nudges the side of your thigh and you look down at forgotten length between you, swollen and nearly purple. As if in a daze, you reach for the turgid flesh and let the tips of your fingers graze the head tentatively. Taehyung’s eyes snap open to look at you in shock and you freeze.

“Do that again. Please.”

You can hardly deny him when he looks so fucked out beneath you and your hand begins a tentative pace, stroking his dick like you had witnessed him do earlier.

“That’s it, atta girl,” he groans into your shoulder, kissing the skin almost absentmindedly. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your stomach plummets at his words, inner muscles clenching almost painfully. You’re so turned on your shorts are most likely unsalvageable but seeing Taehyung so wrecked and because of you makes it all worthwhile.

Keeping up the pace on his cock, you don’t even notice your hips begin to lower onto his thigh and rock down against him until he sits up from where he’d begun to slouch in pleasure, leg knocking up into your dripping heat.

“Fuck, baby. Look at you, grinding on my thigh like that.” His words send your heart stuttering in your chest. “Your poor little cunt has been neglected, hm? You’ve been such a good girl for me, stroking my cock and getting me ready. I think you deserve a reward.”

Taehyung grips your hips with bruising force and helps you grind harder onto his leg. The drag of your shorts against your swollen clit is a little too harsh but the sheer dampness of the fabric makes the glide much easier.

“I can feel you dripping onto my leg. You’re soaked, baby.” You’re delirious at this point, incoherent noises spilling from your lips as you work yourself over Taehyung’s thigh. It’s not long before you feel the pleasure mounting within you, hips pistoning back and forth even faster.

“That’s it, baby girl. Use me. Make yourself cum on my thigh. Get yourself nice and ready for my cock.” His hands run soothingly across your skin, sending your nerves on fire. You whine as you feel your orgasm approach with each pass of your hips.

“Come on, babe. Give it to me. Let me feel you cum all over me.”

With a strangled cry, you buck against Taehyung uncontrollably as you finally release all over his leg. You curl into him, hands tangling into his hair and tugging in order to keep yourself grounded. Your hips gradually slow as you ride out your high and you find it a struggle to catch your breath. The two of you stay like that for a few moments, letting the aftershocks wash over you.

“Oh, ___,” Taehyung murmurs in wonder. Almost sheepishly, you peek up at him from beneath your eyelashes to see him staring at you with such unadulterated reverence and want that your heart skips a beat. “You did so well, baby girl,” he rasps, lips ghosting over your face tenderly.

Face warm, you try to redirect the attention to him and begin placing gentle kisses along the length of his neck. Taehyung tilts his head back, eyelids fluttering prettily at your ministrations. Smirking to yourself, you trail your hand teasingly down the length of his chest to make your way down to his dick but he stops you with a firm hand around your wrist. Before you can even open your mouth to question him, he’s already flipped you over onto your back.

“Hmm, still so eager for my cock.” He nips playfully at your bottom lip, laughing when you move to chase him. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’re getting there. I have to get you ready first.”

Two of his fingers brush the swell of your mouth and you open immediately to take them in. Taehyung inhales sharply as you give them a pointed suck, eyes narrowing slightly to let you know that you will certainly pay for that later. The thought sends a shot of arousal to your core.

Taehyung removes his fingers and wastes no time in bringing them to the apex of your thighs. He makes quick work of your soiled shorts and suddenly, he’s all you can feel. A single digit swipes the length of your slit to circle around your clit, eliciting a hiss from the both of you.

“Oh, baby, you’re so wet,” Tae groans, in a trance. “All for me.”

He wasn’t really speaking to you but you nod anyway. “Yes, Tae. All for you.”

Eyes snapping to yours, he sinks one finger into your weeping heat and watches your face for any signs of discomfort. You tense slightly before relaxing and sending him a reassuring smile as a signal that he can continue. He pumps his finger in and out, letting you get used to the sensation before gently slipping in another. Scissoring the digits, Taehyung furrows his brows and bites his lip as he forces himself to be patient.

You, on the other hand, are having a much harder time controlling yourself. Soft whimpers escape you with every pump of Taehyung’s fingers. One particularly potent curl has you gasping for air as an animalistic growl tears itself from your throat, hips bucking harshly upwards.

“Gah, Tae—please,” you pant, hands flailing wildly for something to hold onto before settling on his hair.

“Anything, darling.” Taehyung inserts yet another finger and you begin to really feel the stretch, so much that it nearly becomes uncomfortable. A small noise of discomfort makes the man above you pause but he mouths at your temple reassuringly. “I know, baby, I know. But I have to make sure you’re ready for me.”

Right then, he curls his fingers just as he did before and you’re seeing stars again. He places adoring kisses along your jaw before dipping for another taste of your mouth. You eagerly accept him, opening fully to him as your hips roll along with the rhythm of his fingers.

Breaking away, you pant, “I’m ready, Tae.”

“Are you sure?” Looking deeply into your eyes, he must find what he’s looking for because he nods lightly and kisses you breathless. He reaches over to his nightstand and rummages in his drawer. The crinkle of a wrapper hits your ears, making your face warm slightly as the reality of the situation hits you full force. You were really doing this. The fact that the man that you’ve pined after for so long is here with you—actually likes you—is so surreal you’re not quite sure how to process it but you’ll be damned if you didn’t enjoy every second of it.

Once he has rolled the condom on, Taehyung moves upward to cup your face between his hands. “Before we begin, are you absolutely s—”

“Tae, I swear to god if you do not get inside me in the next three seconds I will flip us over and do it myself.”

Taehyung blinks before chuckling. “There will be plenty of time for that, sweetheart. But for right now…” His smile turns sinister, prompting anticipation to swirl deliciously in your stomach. “I’m calling the shots.”

He takes himself in hand and rubs the tip up and down the length of your folds. Your eyes flutter when Taehyung collects your pooling arousal, making a complete mess of you.

When he pushes in, your mouth drops open in a silent gasp. He’s big—of course he is—bigger now that he’s entering you and you can’t deny that the stretch is more than welcome. You glance up at Taehyung’s face and are pleased to see that he looks just as wrecked as you feel. He locks eyes with you, dark irises burning with lust but also something deeper. Something…soft and warm. The thought sends your heart pounding in your chest.

As he bottoms out, Taehyung makes sure to probe your face for any signs of discomfort. He doesn’t find any and tentatively thrusts into you, eyes never leaving yours as he does. You gasp, nerves tingling as a whine tears itself from your throat, soft and breathy.

“That’s it, angel,” Taehyung pants in your ear. “Sing for me. Let me know just how good I make you feel.”

You clench helplessly, reveling in the low grunt it earns from the man above you. He begins to pick up the pace, hips snapping fiercely against yours so that the only sound is the harsh slap of skin against skin mingling with your eager breaths.

“Such a tight little cunt, even after you’ve already cum once.” His voice is even raspier with the force of his thrusts and you practically keen at the sound. “I wonder how many times I can make you lose it.”

You sob, hips rising desperately to meet his. “P-Please,” you cry, unsure what it is you’re asking for but it doesn’t matter because he props himself up to get a better angle, looking down at your writhing form.

“Such a desperate little baby.” He punctuates the pet name with a particularly harsh snap of his hips and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can already feel your second orgasm rising within you, all you need is a little push.

“You know,” Taehyung begins, concentrating his thrusts to a slow roll, “I’ve always been curious about one thing.”

Before you can ask what it is, you see his hand snake between you, gliding across your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, to settle at the base of your throat. Your eyes widen of their own accord, breath stuttering as you realize the intention. Taehyung’s eyes hold a silent question and you nod, albeit a bit desperately, prompting him to wrap his long fingers steadily around the lowest part of your neck.

“Fucking filthy,” he whispers in awe, gaze alternating between your face and the sight of his hand wrapped around your pretty neck. He thinks he could watch this forever. Squeezing experimentally, Taehyung watches with utter delight at how quickly you fall apart under his grip. Your hands scramble to claw at his arm, not to pull it away but to keep him locked in place.

“Poor baby just wants to be choked and fucked senseless, is that it?” You nod jerkily, pleasure fogging your mind and making you delirious. You couldn’t talk even if you tried but the way your hips buck up into his needily tell him all he needs to know.

“So honest,” he chuckles, increasing the pressure slightly. “Good girls get what they want.” Taehyung pulls his hips back, so far that only the tip remains inside you, before snapping back in full-force. The pace he sets is brutal and you can feel his hip brushing relentlessly against your clit.

“T-Tae,” you gasp, stomach tightening as a particularly well-timed thrust has you seeing stars. “C-Close.”

“Is baby girl gonna cum?” You nod frantically, eyes focusing and unfocusing on his face. “Come on, baby. Give me one more. I know you can do it. My desperate. Little. Slut.”

Taehyung tightens his grip even further and that’s the end for you. A scream lodges itself in your throat as the coil in your lower stomach snaps, sending you spiraling into the most powerful orgasm you’ve had in a while. Taehyung releases his hand from your neck abruptly, the rush of air prolonging your pleasure to the point you think you might pass out.

Above you, you hear Taehyung groan gutterly at the vice-like grip your walls have trapped him in. “Fuck, princess, I can feel you squeezing. You’re gonna make me cum.”

Still breathless, you fight against the fog clouding your brain. “Please, Tae. Cum inside me, please. I-I want it so bad.”

“Such a filthy little thing,” he stutters, breaths sounding labored in your ears as he gets closer to his own climax. “Gonna f-fill you up so good. Make this cunt mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp, tightening your muscles one last time around him. That seems to be the end for him because before you know it, Taehyung is moaning into your shoulder.

“All. Fucking. Mine,” he growls as he snaps his hips, once, twice, before stilling inside you.

It seems to last hours but Taehyung eventually collapses onto his forearms, careful not to crush you under his weight. You both take a minute to catch your breath, enjoying the feeling of closeness that follows. Eventually, he pulls back, carefully slipping out of you to tie off the condom and toss it in the wastebasket. You wince but relax immediately after, snuggling further into the soft down of his comforter.

Taehyung smiles adoringly as he makes his way back to the bed, heart flipping at how cute you look in his bed. Almost as if you belong there. He hesitates as he gets to the edge, fearing for a moment whether or not it was alright to join you. Those fears are put to rest as you blink sleepily up at him, arms tiredly reaching for him. Relieved, he snuggles in next to you and gathers you in his arms. It’s silent for a moment as you both enjoy being wrapped up in each other.

“Since when?” you finally break the silence, tracing mindless patterns across his chest.

Taehyung inhales sharply. He knows exactly what you mean. Still, he feigns ignorance. “What?”

You close your eyes for a moment, burying your face further into his chest. “Since when have you liked me?”

“Since when have you liked me?” he shoots back and you pinch the skin on his ribs. He yelps before you both dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“I asked you first,” you whine, risking a glance up at his face. Taehyung is already staring down at you fondly, warm gaze melting into your own.

“Since the very first moment,” he whispers softly. You almost laugh, except his face is deadly serious. It’s suddenly hard to swallow around the lump in your throat. You stare at him in wonder—the delicate brush of his eyelashes against his cheek, the soft sweep of his sweat-dampened hair over his forehead, the gentle curve of his lips as he smiles at you. You clear your throat, glancing away as a pleasant warmth settles over your cheeks.

“That’s not an answer.”

He laughs breathily in your ear and you fight a shiver. “Okay, okay. Well the first time I realized it was the day you had come back from your shift after you had switched managers.”

You balk. “Are you serious?” You remember that day. Management had decided to move your favorite supervisor over to the men’s department while you remained stuck in shoes. The new guy was awful—condescending, incompetent, and downright unpleasant. You had come home that day with three different bottles of wine and all the take out you could afford and practically forced Taehyung to drink with you and listen to your misery. The guy was eventually fired but the whole experience had left you with a bitter taste in your mouth.

Tae chuckles as he thinks back to that night. “Yes, I’m serious. You were about halfway through the second bottle and were practically screaming curses at the guy. It took you all of 30 minutes after dinner to fall asleep right there on the couch, somehow still complaining about that dickwad.” You snort, hand shooting up to cover your face in embarrassment. “As you talked, I realized…I could listen to you forever. And then you fell asleep, cuddling so cutely into my shoulder, and I knew I was a goner. Even though you snore.”

Your eyes, which had started watering at his heartfelt confession, widen before you regain your composure enough to hit his chest. “I do not snore.”

Taehyung winces playfully, knowing full-well that you don’t but enjoying teasing you all the same. “So, yeah. I’ve liked you for a while. And I had an inkling you felt the same.”

“Oh, yeah? What gave it away? The fact that I practically hopped on your dick?” you tease.

“Well it certainly didn’t hurt.” He winks at you and you have to stifle the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. “But it was little things. Like how you’d blush at a compliment or if I hugged you just a bit too long. I couldn’t be sure though. Not until tonight, I guess.”

“Well,” you shift upwards, his confession instilling a confidence in you that you hadn’t known you possessed, “in case I haven’t made it abundantly clear: I like you very, very much, Kim Taehyung.”

He’s silent for a single, nerve-wracking beat before the most brilliant smile lights up his face and for the second time that night, you find yourself breathless.

“And I like you very, very much, too, ___.”

Taehyung kisses you then, slow and sweet, and you’re left thinking that you never want to be anywhere else.

© exoticarmyofcrowns 2020

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [7]

Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 7.5 OR Chapter 8

➜ Words: 2.7k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

You thought about it over Winter break.   While baking and laying around your dorm room, you’ve come to a self-revelation. You spent only a week in Jungkook’s hometown before coming back for the other two, not wanting to intrude on his family too much, and during that time, you’ve re-discovered a strengthened will. You’ve decided to abandon your unproductive heartache in favour of nurturing a new ambition, a new eagerness to flourish and thrive, and make the most out of your time here.   And Jungkook is surprised to see this fresh enthusiasm.   “You’re here early.” He steps into the kitchen to see you crouched over the counter with notebooks and textbooks sprawled out, already studying at the beginning of the semester.   “I know.” You lift your head to grin at him. “Just thought I’d get a head start. Don’t slack just cause we’re in the same class, Jeon. I won’t always give you notes when you skip.”   He approaches with a small smile. “I’m guessing the rest of your Winter break was good.”   “It was alright. It’s nice to sleep in. How was yours?”   “Lia and Eunbi kept crying when you left. I swear my family likes you more than they like me.”   “Naturally,” you taunt while batting your lashes. “I’m just so likable.”   “Uh-huh.” But that still doesn’t explain why you’re humming and smiling to yourself. It’s only eight in the morning and he wonders where the usual Little Miss Cranky went. “Did something good happen?”   “What do you mean?”   “You’re giggling to yourself.”   “I’m not giggling.” You feign a glare. “I’ve just...found new motivation to work harder. I thought about it a lot and….”   “And?”   “I’m going to get back with Seokjin,” you declare. Jungkook’s eyes are wide and you smile. “I’m going to catch up and become someone worthy of him. Someone he won’t be able to let go. I’m going to work my hardest, so he can be proud of me.”   “Huh.” The boy nods. “Well, good for you.”   “Psh, what’s with the bland response. Listen, you better look out, Jeon. I’m going to make the best portfolio ever to submit at the end of the semester.”   He grins. “Okay.”   You return to your work, finishing up reading the section while humming to yourself.    Jungkook glad you found a new vigour to strive and do your best — but he can’t help feeling unsure of your reasoning. He’s pretty sure that this isn’t it.   //   The lectures and hands-on workshops at the very start of the semester are always the blandest. Introductions are done, course outlines are looked at, and the professor drones on and on about the course’s expectations and what the assignments and examinations will look like. Jungkook isn’t exactly enthused to hear what he’ll have to get done in the coming weeks.   And it’s in this very boredom that he knows he doesn’t need to say anything about your new-found determination. Eventually class will wear you down like it does for everyone, and you’ll become indifferent again. You’ll come to your senses one way or another.   But to his surprise, you’re still very much jolly after classes.   “It hasn’t been one day and classes are already fucking me in the ass,” Taehyung groans.   “Hey, guys!” You plop down with Jungkook beside you. “I missed you. How was Christmas break?”   “It was good.” Hoseok looks up, appearing utterly exhausted with dark circles lining the area beneath his eyes.    Yoongi actively glares at you. “You’re chirpy.”   Much to his dismay, you laugh. If Yoongi was a dog, he’d probably bite you.   Jimin smiles. “Did something good happen, Y/N?”   “Actually, yeah. I just realized some things over the break and I just have more motivation to work hard, you know?”   “Can you give me some of that motivation?” Taehyung groans. “What does it take?”   “A fear of flunking and getting kicked out should be more than enough motivation,” Yoongi deadpans.   “What’s your motivation, Y/N?” Hoseok asks, the corner of his mouth curling.   “I…” You glance at Jungkook, not sure if you should tell them the truth. But after a moment of hesitation, you go for it. There’s nothing to hide. “I’m going to try to get back together with Jin.”   At once, you receive mixed reaction — Jimin goes blank, Taehyung lifts his head off to the table and Hoseok’s brows are raised, lips tight. He’s the one who breaks the silence. “Wow, that’s great, Y/N.”   You grin. “I know, right?”   “How are you going to do that?” Taehyung looks at you. “If I can ask…”   “I’m going to improve myself and become someone he wants, someone worth him.”   “But is it really up for you to decide?” Yoongi asks out of the blue, piping up as he chews some chicken in his cheek. The black-haired man looks at you lazily. “It takes two.”   “Yeah, but I can try, right?” You shrug your shoulders, wearing a small smile.   But Yoongi doesn’t accept what he hears, not in the way you want him to. “He dumped you, didn’t he? What makes you think he’ll want you back?”   “I—”   Taehyung steps in before the situation can escalate. “Yoongi.”   But the tired man ignores him, his eyes piercing, even if he gazes at you languidly. “You think you can change him or change what happened?”   “I love him.” Your eyes are glossy and there’s an overwhelming urge to block out your ears.   Yet Yoongi scoffs. “Okay. So what? Who says you won’t be dumped again?”   “Yoongi, chill it, dude,” Taehyung intervenes and Hoseok is also alert, trying to change the topic to no avail. In the meanwhile, Jimin is caught in the conflict and rendered speechless, but what hurts most is that Jungkook doesn’t defend you. He doesn’t utter a single word of support.   “Is it so bad to want him back?”   “Yeah. If he doesn’t want you back.” He shrugs. “It would be more productive if you get on with your life, got better and showed him what he missed out on. Trying to get back together with him makes you look desperate.”   “I never asked for your opinion, Yoongi.”   “Fair, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t hear what I have to say. Plus, I’m just asking you questions and as of yet, I haven’t heard any answers, Y/N,” Yoongi bites back. It’s not like the friendly banter that you have with Jungkook. What Yoongi says is painful to hear, heavy on your heart. It’s argumentative with intentions to prove himself right, confrontational in a way you’ve always avoided. “Why are you setting yourself up to be hurt again? Don’t you think you deserve better than that?”   The group falls into strained silence. The tension wraps itself around your throat, robbing your breath from your lungs. Nothing is spoken, no one utters a word. They stare at you as if they’re waiting for a response, for your justifications. But they don’t need to hear it — it’ll sound like a broken record.   They’ll never don’t get it — how much you love Seokjin. How much you miss him. How much you want him back in your life. Someone who used to be your best friend, who was your entire world, your person, and how he’s turned into a complete stranger.   “Alright, guys. Let’s just agree to disagree, okay?” Taehyung laughs stiffly, trying to dial it back. But you abruptly stand, grabbing your tray of food.   “Y/N.” Jungkook grabs your arm before you can walk away.   You don’t face him. “I have some stuff to do. Catch you guys later.” After dumping the tray, you walk out of the building before they can see the tears in your eyes. And they watch your backside until you’ve disappeared from the dining center.   “You’ve really done it now,” Hoseok chides Yoongi.   The male shrugs. “Was I wrong? She needed to hear it from someone and apparently I’m the only one willing to be the bad guy.”   //   You continue to march across campus with no destination in mind, merely attempting to find some peace and quiet. You tear open the door to the west wing, sniffling as your breath heaves, and at your hasty pace, you fail to notice another person walking in the opposite direction until your shoulders collide with one another.   “S-Sorry.”   The rounded, short girl regards you with bright eyes, wearing a white apron and jeans. “It’s okay—oh, Y/N, right?”    “Do I….know you?”   “I’m Yoo Aeri. We met each other on orientation day, remember?”   “Oh my god.” It was four months ago, but you can vaguely recall the first person you befriended. You were so happy that you met someone friendly that you told Seokjin right away, even if you forgot to exchange contact information. “I remember now. I’m so sorry I forgot, my mind lately is just…”   She laughs. “Don’t worry about it. I actually switched into the culinary program recently.”   “Oh, really? That’s super cool. I heard it was hard.”   “It is a little, but the Baking and Pastry Arts program is a lot more competitive. I just found it wasn’t for me.”   “I know what you mean. I can get pretty tough.”   Aeri smiles and you realize she’s holding a plastic wrapped plate when she thrusts it towards you. “I’m actually walking around right now to see if someone wants to eat this — It’s seared salmon I made in class, but I made too much. As usual. Do you want to have lunch with me?”   You’ve never had such a proposition before. “I’d love to.”   //   8:12 pm. Jungkook: is the plan still on?   Every so often when Jungkook’s sick of you complaining about the vile food at the dining hall, the both of you go out to grab a bite to eat off-campus. His wallet cries but he has to admit that it’s fun.   Tonight though, you haven’t knocked on his dorm room yet and he hasn’t been in contact with you since lunch. Jungkook wonders passingly if you’ve permanently ghosted him — if so, he doesn’t know why he’s being punished for Yoongi’s actions.   8:14 pm. Y/N: oh yeah sorry 8:14 pm. Y/N: not tonight   The moment he gets the message, his brows shoot to his hairline. Jungkook audibly groans.    You should’ve told him sooner. He can’t get a good meal in the dining center when it closes in just fifteen minutes. But Jungkook wonders if you’re underneath your covers crying, if you’re really that weak willed to be broken down so easily by a few words from Yoongi, but then—   8:16 pm. Y/N: made a new friend   Wow. So you ditched his ass for someone else — now Jungkook has zero sympathy for you.   With the annoyance of a lifetime, he grabs his coat and decides to go out anyways. He doesn’t need you. He can enjoy a perfectly good meal off-campus by himself.   It takes Jungkook fifteen minutes by bus to get to the bustling street. He enters the cozy pizza restaurant down the block that you’ve both gone to a few times and orders takeout. He waits at the front playing a game on his phone to pass the time, hoping he can get home soon and enjoy the food in the comfort of his own bed.   But Jungkook’s ears perk when it catches loud voices that draw his attention. He naturally lifts his head. It’s a mistake.   He can’t even act that he doesn’t know them, that he didn’t see them, not when his eyes connect directly with Jin’s and they look at each other.   Yet, to Jungkook’s surprise, the older man stops with a smile. “Hey!”   The best way to describe his relationship with Seokjin was that they are acquaintances — similar to how he would’ve called you, excluding the recent months. Jungkook knows Jin from high school, saw him in the halls but they seldom spoke to each other. They hear things about one another but that’s the furthest extent of their interactions.   Until now.   “Are you here alone?”   “Yeah I’m just grabbing some takeout.” Jungkook awkwardly hitches a thumb over his shoulder.   Seokjin nods, plump lips naturally pouted. “Were you in the area?”   “Not really. I came from school.”   “Oh, that’s actually pretty far. I’m surprised you didn’t just do delivery.”   Jungkook’s doe eyes double. He feels like an idiot. “Oh shit, actually?! I didn’t know they had delivery!” He could’ve saved himself half an hour.   Seokjin grins. “Yeah, but it costs an extra two dollars.”   “Guess I’m saving money then.” He feels bitter. Sincerely, you are the curse of his life. Jungkook would’ve never been in this situation if he didn’t feel a need to imaginarily prove you wrong in his mind.   “Jin!” One of his male friends calls out, signaling him over as the waitress shows the rest of his friends to a table.   “I’ll be there in a minute.”   Jungkook can kind of understand the sad state you were in after the breakup. Aside from Seokjin’s handsomeness that even renders Jungkook speechless at some angles, it’s evident that Jin has a good personality. He’s friendly and warm, despite being an acquaintance. And Jin never once treated him poorly even back when he had his feud with you.   “Want to step outside for a minute?” Jungkook asks. “It’s kind of loud in here.”   “Sure.”   The two of them exit the restaurant and become enveloped in the chilly air. It is quiet out here, almost too quiet. They can finally hear each other properly but Jungkook finds his thoughts are deafeningly loud.    “So, what did you end up ordering?”   “Three sausage and two pepperoni.” Jungkook’s fond of the way you always call him a meathead as he stuffs his face with it. “It’s my favourite.”   “Oh really? I’m more of a pineapple man, myself.”   “I’ll admit, I hated pineapple myself until Y/N changed my mind.”   Seokjin grins. “She did for me too. How is she, by the way?”   “She’s...fine. Enough to drive me crazy.” Jungkook sighs with the force of his entire being and Jin nods with the corner of his mouth quirked.    “I'll admit, I was pretty surprised when I heard through the grapevine that you guys became friends. But I’m glad she has someone with her.”   “We’re not like that.”   Jin hums. “Doesn’t change the fact that she has someone to support her.”   There’s a pause. “Can I ask you something?”   It’s the reason Jungkook went out of his way to ask him to come outside. He’s curious and maybe it’s not his place to be, but he’s always felt more involved than he should be. Jungkook wants to understand, to clear his confusion, to hear the other side of the story.   “Depends on what it is.” Seokjin smiles.   “Why did you break up with Y/N?”   You had never really told him the reasoning, and he’ll admit it was bizarre when the two of you split. Jungkook always thought you were one of those irritating high-school sweetheart couples that would eventually get married and settle down with one another. The kind of couple that would get their love story posted in the newspaper after their seventy year anniversary.    A picture-perfect happily ever after.   Seokjin sighs, a cloud of condensation emitted through his parted lips. He leans against the brick wall and looks up at the night sky. “Sometimes...there doesn’t need to be a bad reason or a red flag or some kind of deal breaker.”   “Then why?”   Seokjin shrugs. “I always felt like Y/N loved me a lot more than I loved her. Always.”   “Sometimes, it felt like she put me on a pedestal. Other times, I think I made her feel inadequate. But she was always willing to give up everything for me.” Their eyes connect, Jin’s sheepish and soft. “And for me, I constantly felt like I had to play the part of a good boyfriend, rather than be one because it came naturally. It made me feel guilty. She didn’t do anything wrong. I think I just realized sooner that we weren’t the ones for each other.”   A disconnect. Jin liked you — he adored you — but you loved him wholeheartedly with your entire soul. Even now you still earnestly love Jin.   Jungkook isn’t sure what to do with the new information. But he suddenly feels bad for you. More than he ever has.

[kingdomrockkorna]

For many years I have carried a portfolio around that I called my portable museum. This year Diverse City’s Brian, Chi Rock Nation’s Artistic and myself collaborated to celebrate the year 18 of Chicago’s Hip Hop Heritage Month with a exhibit at our office and podcast studio. On July 1, 2021 we opened the doors for 30 days and when the month was over we thought about taking it down but we didn’t have the heart to do so. We then decided to create what is now known as Chicago’s Hip Hop Heritage Museum, located at 4505 S. Indiana in the Bronzeville neighborhood. This space is to honor, celebrate and remember the many contributors that laid the foundation of the culture that provided us an outlet of expression and creativity through an art form that was considered by our elders as a passing fad.

Chicago like many other cities had downgraded arts and music programs in the school system and forced us to look for alternatives. As the most segregated and segmented city in the nation, as well as the home of the children of the Great Migration unfocused energy was dynamite keg ready to blow. And after the riots in the late 60’s, the assassination of Dr. King and Chairman Fred Hampton Chicago’s children looked for outlets of expression. The home of Chicago Defender, WVON, Soul Train, the Regal Theater, Ebony and Jet magazine and WGN, Chess and Vee Jay Records it was no doubt that we wouldn’t be held down forever. For example, Soul Train reach across the nation Chicago as the Mecca was quietly exposing the soul to America. Don Cornelius’ invention powered by the youth of the city would go on to influenced the nation: music, language, dance, fashion and the original source of Black Excellence.

I personally learned how to do the robot, popping and locking from being a faithful watcher and fan of Soul Train. Thanks to dancers Jeffery Daniels who taught Alphonso “Shabba Doo” Quinones and other’s dancing style was demonstrated and broadcasted across the WGN’s nationwide reach.

Eventually Soul Train moved to California and became open game for other markets to share; however some decided to take and mix and later coin the dancing art form to what is now known as hip hop.

Hip Hop; is a termed derived on the east coast, which was created from sound crews throwing parties, where the DJ would mix breaks of popular records back to back and make continuous loops that people would dance; which led to the term break dancers. There are tons of origin stories that have already published on hip hop creation; however they always leave out the influence of Chicago. This will no longer be allowed to be the narrative.

On July 7, 2003, Alderman Walter Burnett and a delegation of grassroots hip hop organizer had Mayor Daley proclaim the month July as Chicago Hip Hop Heritage Month; that right 18 years ago.

[chocoluckchipz]

The Other You - 2

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

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His body heavy, eyes drooping closed, Adrien released his transformation and flopped on his bed face down. Who in the world thought that him running a fashion empire after spending all day teaching the principles of physics to teenagers was a good idea? Add in Chat Noir’s obligatory patrols, and you've got yourself a sleep-deprived, confused, and stressed disaster of a man. Yet, despite his exhaustion, Adrien’s lips stretched in a smile as soon as his head collided with a pillow.

“I’m so tempted to just sleep,” he whispered into the silence of his bedroom. “There’s always morning for changing clothes and grooming.”

“Do whatever you want,” Plagg puffed. “But I need disinfection. Seriously, you two need to get a room and preferably a kwami-free one. I didn’t sign up for this uncivilized, touchy-feely stuff. Can’t you just reveal identities and free me from being an involuntary participant in your grossly romantic endeavours?”

“If it were up to me, I would've done that a long time ago,” Adrien murmured. His shoes and clothes already on the floor, he crawled under the comforter, yawning. “But, you know just as well as I do that it isn't up to me, and Ladybug might actually be right about it being dangerous.”

“Hawkmoth hasn’t been active for years,” Plagg whined, finishing wiping himself with a sanitizing towelette and immediately heading straight for his stash of Camembert. “He’s probably dead already. Why do you still need to keep these masks on?”

“Hawkmoth not being active for a while isn’t proof that we’ll never see him again,” Adrien replied, wrapping himself around his pillow. “What if he’s just waiting for us to put our guard down to strike?”

“He isn’t that smart.”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Adrien yawned again. “The man kept us on our toes for a decade. But even if, presumably, he’s out for good, this isn't the time to start a relationship still.”

“Why not?”

“Plagg, please,” Adrien mumbled, his eyes closed as he snuggled the pillow closer. “You know as well as I do that Ladybug is going through a rough period right now. Her job now demands all of her time and attention thanks to that jerk-boss that ditched them. Her relationship with her roommate—her best friend may I add—seems to worsen every time I hear about it. And have you even seen her? She’s lost weight and looks pale and tired all the time.” Adrien paused, opening his eyes. His chest tightened as he looked into the darkness of his bedroom. “Right now, Ladybug needs a friend who’ll support her, not another relationship to work on. And since I can’t help her with her civilian life, I’d be damned if I added to her problems.”

Adrien rolled over and pulled his comforter over his head. Ladybug needed a friend right now, not a boyfriend, and he loved her too much to add a romantic relationship to her already nearly unbearable pile. So until she got her promotion, he’d support her as a friend and would remain close for whenever she needed him. Once she reached her goal, though, that would change because then, Ladybug would actually have time and strength for a relationship with him. Otherwise, Adrien was afraid he was risking ruining everything before it even started. He’d already waited for her for years, he could certainly wait a little longer.  

“Whatever you say, lover boy,” Plagg murmured and started to settle in his little bed, turning and twisting until he found the perfect position. “Goodnight, kid.”

“Goodnight, Plagg,” Adrien replied, his thoughts racing back to his Lady and the effortless friendship they’d developed that tiptoed dangerously on the border of romance. It would come eventually. Adrien knew that, and when it did, he'd make his Lady the happiest girl in all of France. He'd never take her for granted. He'd always—

“Wipe that dopey smile off your face,” Plagg suddenly grumbled. “It’s creepy to grin like an idiot in the dark.”

“How do you even see what I am doing from your wastebasket all the way over there?”

“I don’t need to see it. I can feel it. Now, stop it and go to bed. You have tons of work tomorrow and just a few hours left to sleep.”

“Don’t remind me.” Adrien groaned, flopping on his back. “I should’ve sold my shares and been done with it.”

“Then why did you listen to that dude from your work? You should try it, Adrien,” Plagg mocked. “See for yourself before deciding on what to do: continue teaching or follow in your father’s footsteps. Nonsense, I tell you. You should’ve sold and invested in Camembert production, something useful for once.”

“Max isn't a dude,” Adrien chuckled. “He's a friend, and he has a point. I've spent my life hating the fashion industry only because of my father and his crazy obsession with his work. Maybe—”

“He kicked you out of the house because you followed your passion instead of whatever he wanted you to do.”

“He didn’t kick me out. I left.”

“Doesn’t matter. The point is, this fashion nonsense ruined your life. Why would you want to ‘try it out’?”

“My life isn’t ruined. And I think it’s smart to make sure I really do hate heading a fashion empire instead of simply projecting my failed relationship with my father on the whole industry.”

“A load of BS if you ask me.”

“What’s the big deal, anyway? It’s just for a few months. If I don’t like it by the end of the summer, I’m selling.”

“It’s May now—”

“Almost June.”

“Still May, meaning that there are more than a few months until the end of the summer. And good luck enjoying each and every one of them with Marinette around. She gave you quite a welcome today, didn’t she?”  

Adrien froze, all sleep vanishing at once, events of the past that changed his life forever flashing in front of his eyes.

***

On the day of their high school graduation, Marinette confessed. She blushed and stuttered and was absolutely adorable, expressing in the most beautiful and sincere of ways just how much he meant to her. When she finished speaking, with a trembling, hopeful smile on her lips, she raised her eyes, full of fear and anxiety, to look at him, but stunned, Adrien couldn't reply for the longest time.

He loved Marinette. He truly did, but only as a dear, close friend. He hated to reject her feelings, but even if Adrien wanted to give Marinette his heart, he couldn't. It had belonged to Ladybug ever since the day they’d met.

Speechless, all Adrien was able to do was look back at Marinette with eyes full of regret and apology. She didn’t need words to understand his answer. Whispering something he didn’t quite catch, Marinette escaped before Adrien could do as little as to say how sorry he was.

He’d never forgiven himself for breaking her heart, and if only he had been more careful, Adrien was certain they would’ve gotten through that incident without losing their friendship. Unfortunately, Adrien wasn’t so lucky. A few days later, he learned that Marinette had been pre-approved for an internship at his father's company. He lost his sleep over it because, living his whole life in the shadow of Gabriel Agreste, Adrien knew quite well what working for his father entailed and what it did to people as nice as Marinette. Sure, from the sidelines, being an employee at the hottest fashion house around seemed glamorous and exciting. In reality, there were only two options: you either allow this work to squash you and have a nervous breakdown before your first year was up, or you become just like his father—a cold, emotionless, heartless workaholic. There were no in-betweens or exceptions as far as Adrien was aware.

He couldn't let any of those happen to Marinette. Not when he wouldn’t be there to protect her. Not when, following a massive argument with his father over his plans for the future less than a week ago, Adrien was about to walk out of there himself. As of that moment, Adrien was supposed to move out of his childhood home by the end of the month if he wanted to pursue his dream of becoming a teacher. Otherwise, he’d have to cater to his father’s every whim indefinitely. The choice was clear, and seeing as he was escaping that hell of a company himself, Adrien couldn't silently stand on the sidelines and watch Marinette try to get on board. Not when, unlike him, she didn't know the reality of working for his father. Sadly enough, considering the timing, Adrien doubted that based on his words alone, Marinette would ditch her lifelong dream of working for Gabriel in favour of any other fashion houses that were sure to welcome her with open arms as soon as they saw her portfolio.

That's why he'd done it. That's why Adrien stole her file from his father's office.

He only wanted to protect her. He never meant any harm. He planned to sneak her portfolio to a few of his acquaintances in the other fashion houses that would be a much better fit for Marinette than his father's company ever could.

Perhaps, he could've chosen a better way to go about that, but at that moment, this was all that Adrien could come up with. Better timing also would’ve been nice. With his rejection of her confession, the moment to mess around with Marinette’s passions was as wrong as could be. Still, Adrien was confident his plan would work. The next day, he had a photoshoot for a fashion house that was on top of his list of better options for Marinette, so he stashed a copy of her portfolio in his bag and didn’t think twice about it.

Big mistake.

An hour before he was supposed to leave for the said photoshoot, Alya and Nino dragged him out of the house, picked up Marinette on their way and headed to their favourite cafe for some celebration he couldn’t even remember now. Despite the slight awkwardness between Marinette and him, their hang out turned out to be quite enjoyable. So pleasant, in fact, that Adrien let his guard down and made the second biggest mistake of his life—he’d allowed Alya to rummage around in his bag for mints while he visited the men's room before departing for his photoshoot.

Huge… colossal mistake.

Adrien stopped short of reaching the table on his way back. His friends stared at him in shock; his gaze focused on Marinette.

“Is this the reason no one could find my application when I called them three days ago?” She whispered, looking him straight in the eyes as she clutched her portfolio in her hands. “And the day after that? And yesterday? Today as well? They couldn’t find my portfolio because you took it?”

His body and mind paralyzed, Adrien stood frozen in place. He hadn't expected Marinette to find out. He hadn't the slightest idea of what to do or say.

Hastily, Marinette gathered her things and headed for the door only to halt her steps in front of him a moment later.

“Why?” she asked, her voice trembling. “I can understand and accept you not returning my feelings; no one can control their heart. But this?” Her voice cracked as tears escaped her eyes and streamed down her face. “Why would you be so cruel? What did I do to you to deserve this?”

Stunned, Adrien helplessly watched Marinette for a few moments, his dumbfounded silence only fueling her already rushed assumption about the situation. When his speech had returned, he’d scrambled to explain.

“You can’t work for my father.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Oh. And why?”

“It’s a bad idea. You don’t know what working for him can do to you. Marinette, I’ve been there. I’ve seen things… terrible things that happen to people because they can’t handle the workload and demands. I don’t want you there. I don’t want you—”

Marinette raised her hand and spat, “Stop it. I don’t care what you’ve seen there. Those people aren't me. This is not yourdecision to make, Adrien. It’s my life. My decisions. And if it would be a mistake, I want to be the one making it!”

“But—”

“Save it. I thought we were friends, but I guess I was wrong. Friends support each other, not—” She swallowed, looking away, and quietly added, “If my feelings are so much of an inconvenience to you that you didn’t even want me working at your father’s company, you should’ve said so. I would have stayed away on my own. You didn’t have to do this.”

With those words, she walked away. Alya and Nino followed.  

“I can’t believe you,” Alya had snarled. Nino kept looking down as he followed his girlfriend.

They’d kicked him out of their private chat room that same day. Adrien's multiple calls, emails and texts over the next few weeks to the three had gone unanswered. His hope for a chance to explain had been slowly dying, and in the end, it was Chloe—the only friend who remained by his side—who’d convinced him to give up. His heart was breaking, but Chloe was likely right; if none of his friends had responded by then, they’d probably blocked him. Adrien had some pride left, and he wasn’t going to impose himself on anyone in person if they wouldn't speak to him over the phone. There was only so much he could do trying to fix that mess; and he’d done more than enough. By the end of the month, Adrien moved out of the mansion, changed his contacts, and tried to start a new life, leaving everyone behind.

With his move, his relationship with his father had taken a sharp turn for the worse, the two of them becoming as good as strangers. Thankfully, Adrien had enough work and savings to support himself. Soon, he’d found new friends in university, and life seemed to be regaining at least some sense of normalcy. He regretted neither leaving his father nor trying to stop Marinette from entering Gabriel. Quite the opposite, Adrien would've never forgiven himself if he hadn't tried to save her from the claws of the monster called Gabriel Agreste.

Years passed. Adrien graduated and began working as a physics teacher at a local high school, ending his modelling career as soon as he’d signed his teaching contract.

He never heard much from Gabriel until the day his lawyer called from a hospital. A few murmured words of apology from his father in his final moments couldn’t fix anything, but in his heart, Adrien still mourned. He still cared because no matter how estranged they'd grown, Gabriel was still his father and there had been times when Adrien had been happy with him. He wished it could've been different. He wished they could've had a better relationship, but it was a little too late to change anything when his father was taking his final breaths. A failure on both sides. Adrien mourned that as well.

***

Adrien shifted in his bed. He had never asked to inherit anything. He didn’t need this company. It ruined a good part of his life, and for that, he hated it. Being cut off by his former friends, he didn’t know Marinette had been working there, sending all of his sacrifices to hell. But, boy, was he right. That gorgeous woman that snuck into his father’s office today—yes, he had to admit she was gorgeous; Marinette was always pretty but she had bloomed into a beautiful woman—was so exhausted that her beauty was barely visible. A thick layer of exhaustion glazed over her stunning blue eyes; her flawless skin looked pale; the sagging curve of her pink lips did absolutely nothing to accentuate her loveliness. The deep frown line in the middle of her forehead might have been there because of meeting him, but still, Adrien’s heart tightened. Working for his father hadn’t been merciful to Marinette.

Just as he’d predicted.

The worst part of all, however, was that Marinette seemed to not see it herself, fighting for a company that, without a strong leader, was quickly going under. Didn’t she have anyone in her life to care enough for her to shake her out of that trance? Didn’t she—

A thought popped into his head so unexpected and crazy, his eyes widened. It was rather insane, but perhaps fate was giving him a chance to redeem himself?

Whatever wrong he’d done before, his intentions were always pure: to help Marinette. She used to be his friend. He cared for her. Surely fate or destiny or whatever cosmic force that controlled his luck saw that and thought it unfair for Adrien to be condemned for what he hadn’t done. He wasn’t a backstabber; he was a loyal friend.

So, perhaps if he was the bigger person and helped Marinette now, she’d see his noble objective and would have to admit that he wasn’t as horrible of a person as she probably thought him to be. Perhaps she’d even apologize. He was older now, more mature. Surely, he could come up with better plans for how to improve Marinette's life, help her succeed, and prove the purity of his intentions and sincerity of his character.

He did also kind of owe her for breaking her heart. Maybe this was a chance to atone for that as well.

Adrien shook his head and rolled over in his bed. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t care for someone who tossed him aside without even letting him explain. He shouldn’t help anyone who wouldn’t even listen to him or give him the benefit of the doubt.

He had been her friend. She had claimed to be in love with him. Why then was a simple mistake big enough for her to dismiss years of friendship and kick him out of her life? Why should he even think about doing anything nice for such a person, even if only to prove himself right?

Because she helped you just a few hours ago despite hating you.

Adrien groaned. Damn conscience! He still shouldn’t! She did it for the sake of her job, not because she cared for him.

She still helped you when you needed help. She isn’t a lost cause yet. There's still good in her.

Adrien pressed his lips together. He wouldn’t! Not after the way she treated him.

Weren’t you the one to deliver the first blow, though?

Adrien sat up, running his hands through his hair. Why was he such a pushover? Why couldn’t he be more like his father when it came to things like these? Why was he already thinking of the ways he could help Marinette?

Because you aren’t your father, and you still care.

“Okay, fine. I’ll help her.” He threw his hands up in the air in defeat. “Just leave me alone. I need to sleep.”

Settling back into his bed, Adrien closed his eyes and hoped for a few peaceful hours of slumber. Instead, his head buzzed with ideas crazy enough to make him chuckle one moment and bemoan his existence the next. By the time the morning rolled in, there were only two things that Adrien was certain of:

First, Gabriel would have to go. His father had built that company on his employees’ tears and suffering. It wasn’t worth saving, even if Adrien thought he figured out how to do that. It might be a petty, personal revenge move, but Adrien couldn’t find it in himself to care. It would be the right thing to do. Most of its employees had already handed in their resignation letters, anyway.

Second, there was only one way for Marinette to make it in this industry now: find a position in a different company. With her talent, it shouldn't be a problem. He just had to play his cards right and find her a company that would appreciate her more than his father ever did—showing her in the process what a grave mistake she made all those years back when she had cast him aside so cruelly.

Next >

[givemestories-givemelife]

Blueberries, Lavender & Hot Matcha Tea  (Part 2)

A SasuHina ficlet

PART 1| Part 2

AN: THANK YOU SO MUCH TO THOSE WHO COMMENTED, OR RE-BLOGGED, OR LIKED THE FIRST PART TO THIS FIC. It truly means more than I can say. Helped a lot with motivation and it’s super cool to know that people are reading the things I write. I hope the follow up chapter doesn’t disappoint <3

Summary: Hinata has a run in with a familiar face.

Warnings: Brief mentions of grief and anxiety (because Hinata’s a nervous butterfly) but nothing remotely heavy. Also there’s alcohol consumption.

Word count: 6167

                                   __________________________

Lavender

Hinata knows that she needs to start putting herself out there. She can’t stay holed up comfortably in her room while years of her life pass on by, listening to cigarettes after sex under the safe warmth of her white fluffy blanket that still smells like her late mothers perfume, and sniffing essential oils like they’re some kind of soft-core drug to distract her spiralling thoughts from every embarrassingly mortifying predicament she’s ever found herself in.

She’s been trying really hard not to think about spilling her extra hot matcha latte all over this potentially handsome stranger a few days ago. She thinks - potentially - because she did not have the courage to look at the man's face after maiming him and probably ruining his expensive suit!

Hinata’s sure she must have ruined his entire morning, which must have ruined his whole day, and now he probably hates her. Oh goodness, Hinata strongly dislikes the thought of people out there in this world walking around hating her.  

Wow, these thoughts are entirely useless, she really needs to stop her brain from going down these awful paths.  

Today Hinata has decided to try really hard not to wallow in the comfort of all her numbing guilty pleasures.  

So, when Sakura Haruno, the loud and outgoing girl with pretty pink hair, who always smells like strawberries and vanilla from her photography course asked if she wanted to hangout and work on their portfolio’s after class; Hinata was thankful for the distraction.

They had spent that afternoon drinking green tea at the kitchen table in Sakura’s little homey apartment, showing each other their favourite pieces and sharing feedback.

“You have to include this one, it’s so cute” Sakura gushes, pointing at a print of children finger painting; a mischievous little boy is smearing bold red paint all over the face of a girl whose expression is twisted in pure terror.

“You have a real talent for capturing the essence of people.” She continues in a dreamy tone, “it’s like you’re able to capture the moment they’re most alive, even if it’s just the little moments, y’know?”  

Hinata blushes at the complement, “th-thank you Sakura.”

“It's kind of ironic that people are your main muse considering how afraid of them you are.” She teases.

“I’m not sca-AhyH!”

Of course, that’s the moment a woman with a giant blond ponytail barges through the door brandishing a bouquet of peonies making Hinata squeal. “Sakura I swear to god if you ate the last of the ice-cream again, I’m gonna- Oh! hello there.” The crazy flower lady stops mid-threat noticing a stranger in her apartment.

“Ino this is Hinata from class, Hinata this is my roommate Ino.” Sakura introduces, failing to constrain her laughter.

Ino’s demeanor does a 180 as she gently rests the flowers on her lacquered kitchen counter and approaches Hinata in a trance like state. “Your hair is so long and gorgeous, it totally reminds me of the violets we have at the flower shop -- you have to let me braid it.” She breathes and Hinata’s eyes are as wide as the sky outside.

“Ino, tone it down you’re going to scare her.” Sakura chides, rolling her eyes, not at all surprised by her roommate's antics. “Do you always have to act like such a spazz?”

“I am but a simple girl who is a slave to all things beautiful.” Ino proudly counters running her fingers through blue strands and Hinata mentally notes that she smells like a garden.

Sakura’s phone vibrates on the kitchen table, “it’s Naruto,” she says glancing at the screen. “Wondering when we’ll be coming over.”

“I don’t know, an hour or two? Tell him we’re bringing Hinata!” Ino adds excitedly and starts to braid blue hair without permission. “You should come out tonight with Sakura and I, meet the rest of the gang.”

“Oh.” In high school Hinata was never able to make friends with girls, and spent most of her time in the photography club’s black room developing pictures. Her introverted nature made it difficult to connect with people, but in this moment, the prospect of meeting Sakura’s friends, and the inclusive enthusiasm from these girls is making Hinata a little emotional. “I-I don’t know.”  

“Hinata, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but I think it could be good for you,” Sakura encourages.

“Carpe diem bitch,” is Ino’s convincing addition.

Hinata giggles, absent mindedly sniffing her wrist searching for the comforting sweet scent of the fragrance she’s wearing today, “yeah, okay.”

Ino makes a pleased sound and saunters over to a kitchen drawer to snatch a pair of scissors and clips the head off of one the peonies, then ties it into the base of Hinata’s braid. “You really have no idea how cute you are Hinata,” she coos observing her work in admiration and Hinata feels warm all over.

Hinata likes the rapport between Ino and Sakura, there’s something about their friendship that she finds inspiring.  

When they split what’s left of the chocolate ice-cream and start getting ready for a night out, Hinata can’t help pulling out her camera and snapping shots of Ino with her shades of purple and Sakura’s vibes in red. Hinata feels outshined in her usual high waisted mom jean and oversized grey patterned sweater.  

But that’s okay, she still feels like one of the girls.

~~~

Ino had made a strong case for wanting to get her steps in for the day, (since her fitbit said she had only reached 8243 so far) convincing the girls to walk to Naruto’s apartment instead of taking the bus. On their stroll Sakura and Ino began giving Hinata character profiles of everyone she was going to meet and Hinata found them to be quite amusing.

Ino playfully starts with, “Shikamaru’s like, my best bro. I’ve known him forever, smartest guy I know but a total stoner and he doesn’t give a fuck about anything.

“Choji gives the best hugs and he loves giving them, so if he looks like he’s going in for one - just let it happen - you’ll hurt his feelings if you don’t.”

“Naruto and Kiba are basically the same person and are the biggest loudest dorks on the planet,” Sakura chimes in, “but they’re also super friendly and kinda funny if you can get over their lack of brain cells.”

“Then there’s Sasuke,” Ino says, and hearing that name strikes a familiar chord with Hinata, triggering flashes of fond memories. “He’s really hot, but kind of a dick,” Ino hugs herself smiling at a distant memory, “basically, we all know each other from going to the same high school -”

“Ino and I had the hugest rivalry back then because we both wanted him.”  

“What happened?” Hinata really wanted to ask if they were talking about Sasuke Uchiha, but didn’t want to interrupt the momentum of their story.

“We were so stupid causing all sorts of drama in our little social circle nearly tearing it apart, and Sasuke wasn’t having any of it, one day he told us to grow the fuck up and to leave him alone.” That did kind of sound like something Sasuke would say, but that would just be too big of a coincidence, wouldn’t it?

“We both cried.” Sakura snickers sheepishly.

“Eventually we finally realized that friendships should be forever-”

“And boyfriends are whatever.” Both girls enthusiastically finish the rehearsed line making silly faces at each other.

Hinata giggles at that, whishing she had taken a picture, “awe, that’s so cute.”

“And now he’s one of our good friends, but I just want to warn you that he can be cold and he can be mean and if he says something dickish, please don’t take it personally.”

Hinata hums, only half listening to Ino. Was it possible that when Hinata arrives at this apartment she was going to be face to face with the childhood friend she hasn’t seen in over a decade?  

Guess she’ll just have to wait and see.

~~~

When Hinata enters the apartment, her senses are immediately overstimulated; it smells salty like ramen and sour with beer which clashes with how clean and pristine the space actually is. It’s decorated with blacks, whites and a few splashes of colors, but overall has a very minimalist feel.

Hinata barely has time to kick her shoes off before she’s surrounded by strangers, and can’t stop the heat from suffusing her face from the disorienting barrage of unwanted attention.  

“Hey bitches!” Ino yells at the group, “we’re here! We know you missed us!”

“This is the beautiful Hinata,” Sakura adds, and Hinata really wants to hide under a rock somewhere. “Be nice okay, she’s really shy.”

“Hey I’m Naruto.” A blond man appears beaming at her, outstretching his hand. “I have never seen eyes that look like your eyes before!”

“Oh.” Hinata went to shake his hand but was interrupted by another hand grabbing hers and kissing it, which is so uncalled for.

“And I’m Kiba, don’t listen to that guy, he’s a complete moron.” He says with a wolfish grin and Hinata has no idea what’s going on anymore.

When she tries to turn away, she’s met with the kind face of a stout man in a green Zelda t-shirt with his arms wide open for an inviting hug. She decides to accept her fate by awkwardly stepping forward wearing a confused pout, and lets the arms of a stranger wrap around her in what is surprisingly one of the best hugs she has ever received. He smells nice, Hinata thinks. Savoury and warm like a thanksgiving dinner. For a moment she actually feels safe, like a veil has been thrown over the sudden wave of chaos, giving her a quiet moment for her heartbeat to settle, “I’m Choji, it’s really nice to meet you Hinata, try not to worry so much, everyone here is harmless, I promise.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on her back.

When Choji pulls away, he sends her one last reassuring smile before padding off towards the ponytailed man currently dying of laughter, and joining him on a leather couch. Choji grabs a handful of potato chips from a bowl on the marble coffee table and starts earnestly snacking.

Snacks! Snacks sound really nice right now! Tasting tasty things can sometimes be a good distraction when Hinata is overwhelmed. She self-consciously shuffles forward towards the provisions, drawn towards the colorful array of fresh fruits, grabbing a small handful of blueberries and popping one of them in her mouth. She tries to ignore the pair legs in her periphery... she needs a moment before making another introduction.

Hinata jumps feeling a presence directly behind her, she twirls around to see Naruto pulling back appearing extremely guilty.

What was he doing?  Was he pointing at her hair?

“Hehehe, sorry about that,” he says, smiling sheepishly, and scratches the back of his head, “I was just pointing out to my friend here, how beautiful your hair is, what a wonderful shade of blue,” he made a weird face directed at someone over her head, “are you enjoying those, blueberries?”

Okay.

Hinata hears more laughter coming from ponytail boy on the couch.

Weird.

Hinata turns to see who Naruto is looking at and-

Oh.

Sasuke?

Sasuke was here.  

It was her Sasuke!

She instantly looks away, eyes wide, staring down at the hardwood floors.

Well, not her Sasuke. But an older version of the one she knew as a child. The one she met that one summer years ago and spent nearly every day with him before her mother fell ill and her family moved away in the wake of tragedy.

And he was... Glaring at her? No, he was glaring at Naruto? He kind of looked like he recognized her, but why would he be glaring?

“This is fucking stupid,” Sasuke seethes and takes off towards the kitchen, where Kiba and Ino are talking and drinking.

Ouch.

Sakura approaches Hinata with a glass in hand, Hinata stares at the ice clinking as she offers it, “vodka soda, with lime?”

Well, one drink couldn’t hurt, Hinata thinks.

She glances over at a brooding Sasuke leaning on the kitchen island sipping his beer.

She might need it.

~~~

It’s nearly an hour later and Hinata feels the dread sinking deep into the pit of her stomach. She desperately wishes she could conjure up some courage, approach Sasuke, and see how he’s been after all these years, but he still hasn’t left from his spot in the kitchen.  

She’s starting to believe that maybe he doesn’t recognize her, which is a rather sad thought.

Hinata also appears to be at the butt end of some sort of mean inside joke that she doesn’t understand, ponytail bo- Shikamaru and Naruto joined Sasuke in the kitchen and kept making not-so-subtle glances her way -- but whatever -- she’s a big girl, she’s not going to cry about it even if she wants to.

Currently she’s sitting on the puffy leather couch between Choji and Sakura, Sakura is sharing the memes she’s saved onto her phone this month with Ino and Kiba while Hinata stares down at the melting ice in her drink and Choji attempts to calm her with platitudes.

Hinata doesn’t regret coming tonight despite feeling like the biggest fool in existence.

After all, tonight she actually has the opportunity to reconnect with someone she still thinks about, even after all these years.

She has always wondered what had happened to that bratty boy she met that one summer.

The sinking feeling grows deeper and Hinata feels her heart beating in the drums of her ears.

She takes one last tentative sip before downing the rest of her drink and summons every ounce of bravery she didn’t know she had to strengthen her resolve.

She stands from the couch with shaky determination ignoring Choji’s concerned inquiry, then forces one foot in front of the other strait towards the guiding bright lights of the kitchen.

The easy conversation awkwardly dies down when she arrives beside Naruto and Sasuke. She feels both their gazes land on her, and Hinata spots an ugly orange magnet on the stainless-steel fridge Sasuke is leaning on that has the phrase - believe it! - stamped on it and chooses to direct most of her focus on the positive affirmation.

“Uh, hey Hinata, you doing okay?” Naruto asks, slightly taken aback. Hinata nods still focusing on the magnet, face heating up as the beginning of a buzz tingles in the corners of her mind. “Can I get you another drink?”

She looks down at the empty glass she grips and nods again, muttering a quiet thank you, and handing it over. He takes it and moves further down the island to chat with Shikamaru and starts making her another.

“Hi Sasuke,” she forces passed her chapped lips.

“Hello Hinata.” Sasuke says, sounding about as uncomfortable as she feels and she looks up, hopeful, to meet his burning gaze and quickly looks back at that stupid orange magnet.

“So, you do remember me?” She asks, confused as to why he’s been ignoring her since her arrival.

“I remember how two days ago you ran into me quite rudely, burning me with tea.”

Hinata’s brain short-circuits.  

“Wait what!?-”

No! No no no no no. Impossible. No.

“-That- that was you? oh my god, oh no! I am so sorry about that, I really wasn’t looking where I was going, I-I can’t believe this, I swear you just came out of nowhere though, oh my goodness, I can’t believe that was-”  

“Please just stop before you give yourself an aneurysm.” Sasuke lifts his hands in a placating manner and Hinata snaps her mouth shut. “So that’s not how you seem to know me?” He asks, further rankling as the conversation drags on.

“So you don’t remember me.” She says mostly to herself, completely humiliated by this entire exchange, every time she opens her mouth it’s like falling down a flight of stairs -- Hinata seriously wishes she would reach the bottom already.

“Remember you from... where?”  

“I-I mean I guess it’s not that surprising, we were only nine or ten at the time and it-it was only one summer... over a decade ago... You-you never really did call me by my name either.” Hinata says focusing on her twiddling fingers, her voice barely above a whisper, a pensive smile framing her lips at the memory.

There’s a long drawn out silence before Sasuke slowly asks, “...Tomato face?”  

Hinata feels her face burn red at the old moniker, nodding. “Yeah...”

“Hyuuga, Hinata. Shit. Yeah. I do remember.”

The culminating tension finally releases from the moment and Hinata smiles at the black and white tiles breathing just a little bit easier.

He remembers.

“Wait... Did I hear you call her a tomato?” Naruto returns with a mildly amused Shikamaru in tow, handing Hinata her drink, and looks between the pair completely intrigued.

~~~

It didn’t take long for the word to spread that Hinata and Sasuke were childhood friends and everyone congregated into the small-ish kitchen asking curious questions.

It also didn’t take long for everyone to lose interest when Naruto nudged Hinata and started grilling her for embarrassing details of what a prepubescent Sasuke was like, earning him a surly glare. Hinata shyly shrugged saying, “I-I don’t really remember, it was a long time ago.”  

Safe to say -- Naruto didn’t buy it, but surprisingly didn’t press further, and the group dispersed, leaving them to reacquaint.

The conversation between them after that was unfortunately still quite awkward, thankfully, Hinata wasn’t entirely to blame.

They exchanged small talk, Hinata mentions that she actually works at Heaven’s Little Corner and was just coming off her shift early when she ran into him the other day, and Sasuke talks about going to school and getting a Bachelor's degree in Business and how he focused on E-commerce after graduation. Overall, their -- re-connecting -- consisted of the typical pleasantries involved in catching up, and Hinata couldn’t distinguish if she was disappointed or relieved when their conversation came to a lull and she couldn’t think of anymore pointless verbiage to drag it along.

What she really wanted was to reminisce over hot days on the beach, collecting tiny crabs to occupy the sandcastles they built, and how Hinata had found sand in her hair days after the event. She wanted to talk about ice-cream and food fights and sneaking out to gaze at the stars in the night sky way past their bedtime, and how they pondered if aliens exist.

“I think the universe is too big for there not to be something out there somewhere.”  

She remembers Sasuke saying, thoughtfully looking up.

“I-I think you’re an alien.”

She said back, earning her an indignant huff.  

“Whatever tomato face.”

She wanted to talk about how simple everything was when they were kids, how she misses that naivety and how scary the world had revealed itself to be over the years.

Hinata was never good at making friends, even as a child, but she could still look back and she knew that Sasuke was one. He had been the last mark on her childhood that had made it a good one, the last moments she had to truly be a kid before she lost her mother, the truest love she had ever felt, forcing her to grow up.

Instead silence overtakes the kitchen and they both stare at their drinks unsure of what to say.

Sasuke isn’t how she remembers him at all. Yeah, he has the same face, just matured, and the same haughtiness, but the spark for life that had once inspired her seemed to be gone.

Which is an unfair thought to have, she admits, but she can’t stop herself from thinking it.

“Well I think it’s time to go on an adventure,” Naruto awkwardly offers.  

“An adventure?”  Hinata repeats, eyes growing wide.

“Naruto’s idea of an adventure is leaving the house and walking around the block.” Sasuke says rolling his eyes.

“Hey anything can be an adventure if you let it!”

~~~

It smells like damp grass and Hinata nearly jumps out of her skin as Naruto’s roar of triumph echo's off the surrounding buildings, catching the glow in the dark frisbee Kiba threw him. Sakura and Ino had joined them in their late-night excursion and Hinata can’t suppress the giddy giggles from watching them stumble about attempting athleticism when they are clearly four or five drinks deep.

She snaps a few photos and decides that she likes Naruto’s philosophy of approaching even the mundane aspects of life as an adventure.

This whole day certainly has felt like one.

Hinata puts her camera away, feels the chill in the October air, and pulls her scarf tighter. She casts a glance over at the park bench where Shikamaru was smoking a joint to see that he’s now casually chatting about... string theory? -- to Choji, who continues to nod his head like he understands.  

Her trailing gaze then lands on Sasuke and-  

Hinata immediately looks back towards the glowing air bound frisbee.  

He was watching her - he looked suspicious - Hinata doesn’t know of what.

“Hey Sakura,” Hinata tries to call out, voice wavering, “it’s getting late, I think I-I should start heading home.”

That seems to put a halt on the physical activity for a moment, she’s then hugged by every frisbee player.

“It was nice meeting you Hinata.”

“Come back any time.”

“Yes please! We need more girls in our group, Sakura and I are severely outnumbered.”  

“Are you sure you don’t want us to walk you?” Sakura slurs slightly, pulling away from the tight embrace.

“I’ll be fine, thank you Sakura,” Hinata smiles at her newest friend and turns to leave but stops at the bench to wave goodbye at Choji and Shikamaru, earning her a warm smile and a lazy nod. She looks at Sasuke’s arms proudly crossed over his broad chest and says, “it was nice seeing you again Sasuke.” And makes her way down the busy street, casting one last glance behind her just in time to see Sakura jump on Ino piggyback style to catch the frisbee in an impressive display of drunken camaraderie.

She smiles wider to herself. Wow. Today was a good day. An Adventure! Even if seeing Sasuke again was really weird and awkward and not at all how she wished it could have gone, she still met a lot of new people – Sakura's friends are so nice! They made her feel right at home and didn’t make her feel too weird about being shy and -

“Hey, Hinata.”

Hinata startles, hearing the sound of her name accompanied by footsteps catching up and her breath hitches when she turns to see Sasuke slowing down next to her.

“S-Sasuke? What are you-”

“I’m going to walk you home,” he snorts like it’s obvious, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his black jacket, “it’s late.”

“Oh,” Hinata hugs herself, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious and maybe even a little nauseous as they walk in silence, their steps in sync.  

She can feel the heat of his gaze on her and Hinata makes a point to stare at the crispy autumn leaves on the pavement – yeah – Hinata has no idea what to make of this.

“You know it finally makes sense now, why I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”  

Hinata trips over nothing, “you what?”  

Leaves. Look at the leaves. The beautiful burnt orange leaves. Just. Keep. Looking.

“At the coffee shop, there was something about you, I couldn’t get you out of my mind. Guess I thought you were familiar somehow.” Sasuke shrugs, with an air of nonchalance as they cross the street.

“Oh,” Hinata’s starting to feel warm, she doesn’t know if it’s from their quickening pace, the two drinks she’s had or how Sasuke is close enough for their shoulders to brush.

“It’s kind of crazy that we’d run into each other like this, after all these years.”  

Hinata stops walking and Sasuke mirrors her. There’s something in his tone that catches Hinata off guard, something almost fond? Hinata looks back in the direction of his friends, they’re about five blocks away now.  

Sasuke seemed... different than how he’s been all night -- more open somehow. Maybe he feels weird about their earlier interactions too, but didn’t feel comfortable acting this way in front of his friends? Sasuke’s always been a very private person, even as a child.

“Yeah it is,” Hinata bites her lip and throws him a timid fleeting smile, silently wishing she knew what was going through his mind.

“So, why did you come back to Konoha.”  

“I-uh-” Hinata starts playing with the hem of her sweater and reminds herself it’s good to open up, “-wanted to figure out this life thing for myself – be independent - if my dad had his way, I’d never leave home or do anything that wasn’t part of his plan-” she tapers off, distracted by the approaching sound of music, a dumb smile spreads across her face when she sees an old skinny man on a sparkly bicycle riding past them on the road blaring ‘Dancing Queen’ from an oversized speaker he probably installed himself -- he seemed so – in the moment, like all that existed was him and the music filling the streets that he owned – Hinata silently mourns the missed opportunity of capturing that moment forever in a-

“You were saying,” Sasuke pokes her shoulder harder than necessary, bursting her from her reverie, and starts leading her down concrete stairs away from the bustling main road of the city, towards the waterfront.

“Right,” Hinata continues feeling energized from the random encounter and embarrassed from being caught drifting away in a daydream when they were in the middle of a conversation, “it was – uh - hard to leave my sister, but she encouraged me to go, that I should at least attempt to do the dream chasing thing.” Hinata pats her shoulder bag in reference to her camera. “I saved up some money and here I am, making it up as I go.”

“Hm, you always were snapping pictures everywhere you went.”  

Their steps slow to a stop once they reach the cold metal railing where tourists gather during the day overlooking the docks, but it’s mostly quiet at this time of night.

It smells cold from the breeze and salty from the ocean. The lampposts must need changing because the only light is from the half-moon in the cloudless sky, casting them in dark shades of blue.

Hinata takes a deep breath observing the skyline and the colorful lights reflecting in the undulating ocean waves, then asks the question that’s been bothering her since their seemingly kismet reunion. “What do you remember after all this time?”

“I remember...” He trails off, Hinata doesn’t miss the sly edge in his tone. “That I had told you I’d marry you one day,” his voice is deep, almost gravely when he takes a slow playful step closer and Hinata swears her heart skips several beats noticing their breaths mixing in the cold air between them. “And that... you were technically my first kiss.” He says with a sarcastic snort, stepping back, and gesticulates somewhere behind them. “You can’t tell them about it though. Especially Naruto, the idiot would never let me live it down.”

Hinata blushes at the memory and attempts to mask her frown with an indignant pout, trying not to take the jeer personally.

Sasuke always did like to mess with her.

“You were my only kiss.” Hinata then whispers without thinking and regrets it. She immediately hates the implications -- like she’s some inexperienced-love-sick-twenty-something, who’s never gotten over her childhood crush.

Hinata sighs, briefly drowning in her own self-deprecating thoughts, gripping at the railing, eyes a passing ship, and pretends she can’t feel him studying her, surprised by the admission.

“What do you remember?” He asks back, finally breaking the silence.

She bites her lip, thinking, a rush of memories flashing one by one, settling on their goodbye -- her sobbing because she had to move away to a new city thousands of miles away that had special doctors who could treat her mother, how Sasuke was speechless and could only squeeze her tight in the first and only hug they had ever shared.  

She remembers how he always told her she should stand up for herself, even against him, and she remembers how sometimes when she was around, he’d bite his tongue, holding back petulant sneers.

There’s a small quirk to her lips when she softly says, “Looking back, I-I always thought that we brought out the best in each other.”

There’s another long silence and Hinata once again feels the heavy weight of his gaze examining her, he reaches out and she stiffens when he gently grips the base of her braid touching the bright pink flower there.

“Did Ino do this?” He quietly asks, and there something hidden in his voice that shifts the mood of their conversation, and he’s close again, close enough for their visible breaths to once again mix, his fingers trail down towards the tail end of her braid.

“Uh huh.” Hinata breathes, watching his fingers play with the tip of her strands.

“Why can’t you…” he starts to ask, unsure, but curious, “never mind.” He let’s go of the braid, huffing lightly in frustration and leans on the railing, looking out towards the roaring waves.

Hinata’s stunned by his sudden apprehension. "Why can’t I what?”

“I said never mind.”

“But… I- I want to know.”

“Why can’t you look at me?”  

“Oh.”  

Sasuke sighs, “you don’t have to answer.”

Hinata bites her lip hard, internally wincing. “I-it’s not just you it’s most people really.” She starts, racking her brain for the right words “- It’s -it’s embarrassing… Well everything is embarrassing but, I get anxious about nothing all the time? And looking at people. I don’t know. I get paranoid that they can hear my thoughts or something? Not that I’m thinking about anything weird, well sometimes I am… it’s easier when they’re not looking back at me... Anyways... I guess it’s just become a bad habit now…” she sighs and smiles bitterly at the mess that just flew out of her mouth. “So, to summarize, looking at people kind of sometimes really freaks me out?”

“I see,” Sasuke says, Hinata glances at his mouth, he’s smiling a little, it’s almost warm in an amused sort of way, which completely disarms her.  

Hinata’s tongue feels dry, “uhm, do-do you ever feel anxious?”  

“Never. I get annoyed or frustrated with people very easily though, which can be problematic, not that I care”

“I guess some things never change then.” Hinata teases gently.

Sasuke smirks, he seems ready to retort with a quip but retreats and opts for something entirely different, “are there things that help you with your anxiety?”

There’s something about the question that makes Hinata feel warm all over, she never really gets to talk about these kinds of things without it feeling like it would dampen the mood, but there’s surprisingly no judgement in his tone, he seems genuinely curious, which encourages her to open up some more, "I find different scents to be calming, so I wear whatever my current favorite essential oil is on my wrist every day and whenever I feel too overwhelmed,” Hinata begins to explain in a rush pulling her sleeve up to demonstrate and presents Sasuke her wrist, “I close my eyes, count down from ten and-” Hinata’s breath catches in her throat and her eyes fly open when Sasuke gently pulls her forward by the wrist and she feels the softness of his lips brush over her pulse, then draws in a slow breath to scent the fragrance she chose to wear that day, “...and... sniff.”

Oh goodness, is it getting hot out here? Because Hinata’s face feels like it’s about to burst into flames. Hinata debates pulling her arm back but is currently enraptured by the softest look she’s seen on the Uchiha’s face this evening.  

This feels way too intimate, and Hinata thinks she likes it. Hinata thinks that maybe this is what’s been missing in her life. The feeling of being close to someone in more ways than just proximity. Is it possible she’s been physically and emotionally touch starved for years without realizing it?

That’s a thought that petrifies her. How sleeping on your basest human needs can become a habit, and you find yourself going through the trivial motions of existence, not bothering to search for more, for something that makes your heart sing, twist, and turn into itself the way that muscle pumping blood through her circulatory system at a quickening pace is doing right now.

“Lavender,” Sasuke murmurs against her wrist and his breath feels hot on her skin, Hinata struggles for breath when the sensation brings her back to the present moment and she realizes that she’s been staring directly into his darkened obsidian eyes, boring into hers and she finds herself unable to look away. A subtle look of achievement flashes through them when he softly asks, “you okay there?”

Is she dead? Is she imagining this? This whole situation with the soft touches coinciding with depressing epiphanies triggered by Sasuke smelling her suddenly seems completely absurd, and Hinata’s not sure she’ll be able to form a coherent sentence any time soon.

“I uh, uhm.” There’s definitely something wrong with Hinata’s voice when she attempts to speak.

“I think that...” Sasuke smoothly adjusts their hands to interlock their fingers and his hand feels so warm in hers, “you should go out with me.”

What is happening?

“No.”

Hinata kinda meant to say yes, but sure, no works too?

“What?”

“I mean, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Hinata winces slightly. Gosh what is she even saying? Is this some sort of weird defense mechanism because she’s afraid of getting hurt?  

Sasuke nods slowly, narrowing his eyes, “why not.”

Don’t you have to risk getting hurt to get anywhere in life that’s worth while?

“I-I don’t know.”

“Hn.” Sasuke breaks eye contact and lets their holding hands fall. Hinata reels at the loss of warmth. He turns away from her and crosses his arms over the railing and looks out towards the dark rhythmic waves of the ocean. Hinata worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she studies the man before her. The moonlight is hitting the sharp angles of his face just perfect, and Hinata’s in awe. He’s all grown up now, and by default that means Hinata is too. Yet, here they are, the oldest they’ve been, and still the youngest they will ever be.  

Nostalgia floods through Hinata’s system, deciding to grab the moment instead of letting it pass. She’s not sure when she pulled the camera out of her bag, but the flash went off before she understood that she was taking a picture.

Sasuke jumps slightly at the flash and is pulled from his brooding thoughts, shooting her a puzzled glare.

“Sorry, that was kind of weird of me. I just – I just thought you-you looked erm... nice in the moonlight?”  

A bewildered look flashes across Sasuke’s face before a small smile begins to form and he laughs! He actually, genuinely laughs while shaking his head in what appears to be disbelief.  

The only thing Hinata can do is smile sheepishly distracted by how handsome he looks when he lets go of his composure, the light in his eyes makes him look younger, like the Sasuke she knew all those years ago.  

Hinata wonders if any of his friends get to see him like this.

He looks down at the pavement, shoulders still shaking, smile still present and pinches the bridge of his nose while taking in a slow breath and on his exhale, he reaches into his pocket, pulls out his phone, unlocks it, hands it over and says, “give me your number.”

Hinata tentatively obliges, pulling open the add new contact page, filling in the blanks then handing it back. Sasuke starts typing something in his phone and asks. “Do you work Sunday?”  

“Uhm, yes?”  

Hinata’s phone buzzes, when retrieving it from her bag she sees a text from an unknown number.

>> I’m going to come by after your shift and I'm taking you out. Don’t even bother using your mouth to respond.

Hinata feels her fingers tingling and tries to open her mouth to speak, closes it, bites her lip to try and stifle her giggles and resists the urge to slap herself in the face for acting like a complete airhead.

She pushes her fears aside one more time tonight...

And takes the damn dive.

<< Okay <3

                __________________________

AN2:  Wow, okay. A month later and I have the second part to this little story. This is the first time that I’m posting something I didn’t just throw together in one sitting. I’ve also never posted anything that was longer than 1200 words and it’s unexpectedly a little nerve-wracking??? OKAY SO, I guess there’s going to be one last chapter and it’s going to be like 90% SasuHina interactions? And spoiler alert they’re finally going to make-out. I have this SasuHina headcannon where they’re both private people who generally keep to themselves -- so people think they’re a boring couple, but when they’re alone together it’s like they’re in their own little world, and that’s the dynamic I’m looking forward to exploring in the final part.  I’m not sure when it’s going to be up since I have a bunch of other stuff I need to work on so it depends on how the inspo hits me, but I do have plenty of fun ideas!

[withabackpackandcamera]

July 4th, 2021 Day 9: Ending Our Last Full Day With A VERY Full Day Indeed

We arrived at the streetside parking lot for Geldingadalsgos (based on what I found out from Jeroen, the vent that I was taking photos of isn’t the volcano volcano, but more so a vent of a bigger volcano system; therefore, the vent itself doesn’t have a name, the eruption is called Geldingadalsgos, and the volcanic system is Fagradalsfjall Volcanic System. So, 60 Minutes named it wrong… lol) around 12:15am or so, at which time there were probably somewhere between 20-30 other cars parked. Yup, we didn’t even start hiking until after midnight. Indeed, we were a bit crazy and so was everyone else out there at an ungodly hour. Anyhow, because I got a little bit of rest in the car thanks to Minh’s driving, I was ready to go and see this volcano again.

Unlike the first trip to the volcano on our first day here in Iceland a week ago, this trip was much nicer despite the time of day we hiked. Instead of clear skies with heavy midday sunlight, we arrived as the sun was setting in the colorful orange and pink sky. The skies were darker than expected but the night itself teased us but never actually came in full force. The wind today was calm and collected compared to the violent winds the guys in the group endured last week. And the hike up the mountain was much smoother and easier than the first time up, likely because the authorities had done some fixing up, de-graveling, and repaving of different routes to make it safer for hikers. With conditions being great for hiking (and because I had emptied my camera bag of nonessentials), I made it up the mountainside in about 50 minutes or so, which was much faster than the first time. Cynthia and Minh slowly made their way up behind me since I was rushing to get to the top and they weren’t really into rushing.

Once at the top, I scurried across the ridge and to the same area that I had already hiked to last week, hoping for a good vantage point for some volcano photography. Most of the conditions were great for photography on this early, early morning. The skies were beautifully colored. The weather wasn’t too cold or windy. And the volcano was a little more active today compared to last Saturday. But the conditions weren’t perfect because we were still far from the volcano, the volcano wasn’t spewing out enough lava to make lava rivers that we could see from where we were, and the darkness of the lava field and volcano made it hard to take great landscape photos without the contrasting colors of lava rivers. But I guess that when you’re traveling on a tight schedule and you’re looking to photograph natural phenomena like erupting volcanoes and vents, you just have to make do with the photography conditions you’re presented with and live with the result.

So I just took out my camera and started taking photo after photo after photo of the vent spewing lava. I attempted to take portraits and action shots of the volcano and its activity as well as landscape shots of the volcano in relation to its beautiful surroundings and the gorgeously colorful sky above. I moved to a couple of different spots to try and find different perspectives from which to shoot from but ended up spending most of my time at one location where Cynthia had found a spot to sit and chill.

Throughout our time there, I tried my best to look for Jeroen, the photographer I was communicating with on Instagram. When I had contacted him earlier in the evening to help assess the volcano situation for the evening, he told me that he too was headed to the volcano and that if we spot each other, we should definitely say hi. But unfortunately, I never did catch him there. I later found out that he had hiked way past the point where I had stopped and had made his way over the mountain ridge and to the backside of the valley and lava field, where he discovered lava in action. He found a place to see lava (relatively) close up! So jealous! And that’s the problem with attempting landscape photography on a short schedule… You just don’t have enough time or energy to roam around and scope out areas after a packed trip full of sleep-deprived days. How I wish we could’ve had another whole week in Iceland just to hang out in Reykjavik and follow the volcano live stream until we found the opportunity to leisurely make our way over to photograph the volcano when its activity increases.

We stayed at Geldingadalsgos for quite some time and didn’t actually start heading back to the car until close to 4:00am. Minh and Cynthia went on ahead as I took some time for my last few shots. Once I finished, I ended up basically running down the mountainside and arriving at the split in the hiking route at around 4:15am, at which time I could see the heavy clouds and fog rolling in over the mountains, creating a beautiful, early morning scene. I caught up with Cynthia and Minh shortly after that and by the time we actually turned on the car to leave, it was around 5:00am or so. Yeah, really late and really early… I drove home as everyone crashed in the car and got us all home safely around 5:30-6:00am, at which time we all just crashed, knowing that there was little sleep to be had this morning. Because we had an appointment at 9:00am to get our COVID swabs completed for our flight back home, we slept for a measly 2.75 hours until 8:45am, at which time we had to wake up and jump into the car to drive to our testing site. Luckily, the line and swabs were quick and we were in and out in about 15-20 minutes.

We went home after the swab. The three of us who were out until early this morning were pretty exhausted and groggy. But because it was our last full day in Iceland, Cynthia was determined to make the most of it despite severe sleep deprivation. So instead of taking a nap like Minh did, Cynthia and I joined my parents on a morning walk to explore downtown Reykjavik. We started from our AirBnB located near Klambartun Park and slowly made our way toward Laugavegur, the main street lined with shops and stores that ran through downtown Reykjavik. As we strolled down the quiet street, we spotted a long line in front of a store and decided to take a closer look at what people were waiting for. And it was pastries and baked goods at Sandholt Reykjavik! So we joined the line (though mistakenly, since we waited in the dine-in line before realizing there was a faster, shorter line just for take-out from the bakery) and bought our delicious morning pastries to enjoy outside at a table nearby. And the pastries were delicious! Especially the almond croissant Cynthia bought! SO SO GOOD!

The family sat and enjoyed our pastries and coffee before continuing on our lovely morning stroll through town. We walked around downtown and checked out some stores here and there before turning around to head back toward Hallgrimskirkja to meet up with a rejuvenated Minh. Along the way, I took the family on a detour so that they could see my old flat on Bergstaðastræti. We briefly got lost along the way since I couldn’t remember exactly where it was but we eventually found it after some backtracking.

We met up with Minh at Hallgrimskirkja and took a brief look inside the church before splitting up from mom and dad to meet up with Thorsteinn and his girlfriend Thordis Erla on the other side of downtown at a cute brunch place called The CooCoo’s Nest near the Old Harbour. Along the way there, we stopped by to look in a couple of stores and even ran into an old Stanford buddy, Bryce Kam, and his wife walking around Laugavegur. What a coincidence! We chatted in the streets for a few minutes before we had to bid them farewell so that we could make it to brunch on time.

After a relatively short walk through town to get to the Old Harbour side, we finally arrived at The CooCoo’s Nest and found Thor and Thordis already there waiting for us and for a table to open up. After officially meeting Thordis, we sat outside and started catching up over all sorts of things until it was time to be seated at our table inside. We continued on with our great conversations inside as we ate our delicious brunch (Cynthia and I ordered their Breakfast Burrito and Eggs Florentine, both which were yummy). We had a wonderful two-hour long late brunch with the two of them and shared a ton of great stories and talked about all sorts of topics, from Thor’s and Thordis’ life updates (including buying a house together, Thor getting a new job managing assets and portfolios, Thordis going back to school to study industrial finance after briefly working, Thordis’s previous work life working for Icelandair as a flight attendant) to stories about our trip and our lives in the States during a pandemic. So much fun to catch up after almost five years!

Once we had taken our photos and said farewell to each other, Cynthia and I slowly walked through downtown and made a couple of stops along the way as we headed back to the house while Minh went off on his own to look for Icelandic sweaters to buy. By the time we arrived back at the apartment, there was only 1.5 hours left until our next social gathering with Sveinn Magnússon and Kristin Bragadottir at their house for dinner. OH. MY. GOODNESS. I was so full and so tired by the time we got home that I couldn’t even think about more talking and more eating. We helped do some laundry before Cynthia and I went to lie down and take a quick power nap. Unfortunately, we were woken up soon after we went to bed and rushed out of the house so that we could make it to dinner on time at Sveinn’s. We drove over there, and when we arrived, we were warmly greeted by Sveinn and Kristin before Minh and dad finally showed up after their souvenir-buying stroll. It was such a pleasure to see Sveinn and Kristin again after these busy last 4.5 years!

Sveinn and Kristin welcomed us with open arms into their warm home, one that I have visited every trip I’ve made to Iceland. While waiting for dinner to be prepared, I introduced Sveinn and Kristin to my parents and Cynthia, who they had never met, and we shared stories in the living room while sipping on white wine. It was great to finally introduce everyone to each other after they had all heard stories about each other over the years. We caught up for a while before we were seated at the dining table for a fabulous and delicious dinner spread that included an appetizer of shrimp and cheese salad, mains and sides of baked salmon with a puff pastry top, half-mashed potatoes, and salad, and rhubarb oatmeal pie with vanilla ice cream for dessert. What a yummy treat! Over dinner, we learned so much more about Iceland, past and present, from Sveinn and also learned about Kristin’s journey to her PhD in history and her authorship of several historical books as a result. Always so great to hear about the amazing things they are doing and the amazing knowledge they are always willing to share with us!

After dinner, we continued to sip on more wine while chatting more and looking through family photo books that Sveinn had collected over the years. I learned more specifics about Sveinn Magnusson as a physician. For example, before working at the ministry, he was a general practitioner in Sweden and Iceland and was boarded in Internal Medicine and Family Medicine. He then transitioned to working for the Icelandic government where he served primarily as director general, the second highest ranking civil, nonpolitical official in Iceland who reports directly to the prime minister. And while working at the ministry for 21 years, he served a total number of 16 prime ministers. These days, while not doing government work, Sveinn is primarily on call to do death exams on folks in the community. Every now and then, he is tasked with doing a little more than that. In one instance a few years ago, he was the physician who did the baseline intake physical exams for the group of Greenland boat guys who were involved in the murder of a young Icelandic woman. Crazy! After hearing all sorts of cool and crazy stuff and before we even knew it, it was 9:30pm and time for our exhausted family to bid Sveinn and Kristin farewell and a big thank you for hosting us at their lovely house on our short trip through Iceland.

Before driving home, we briefly stopped by the water so that everyone could check out Sun Voyager Sculpture and the Harpa Concert Hall. After some photos, we were pooped and drained, so we finally drove back home and started the task of packing and tidying up for our trip home. Minh’s energy tank was still holding some gas by this point (probably because of his effective power nap), so he decided to walk around downtown and check things out before hitting the sack. Cynthia decided to go with him to maximize her only full day in Reykjavik but because I was so tired, I stayed in to rest. I helped with laundry and hung out around the house until a bit past midnight, at which time I went to bed shortly before Cynthia and Minh returned home. What a ridiculously packed and exhausting last full day in Iceland! If only I had more time to just chill and do everything over a few days instead of over 36 hours… But at least there is one more half day left to enjoy tomorrow…

5 Things I Learned/Observed Today:

1. Today, tourism is the number one industry supporting the infrastructure and economy of Iceland, surpassing Iceland’s fishing industry. Therefore, when the pandemic hit and set the world on fire, tourism took a huge hit in Iceland and resulted in the crippling of Iceland’s economy. There were huge drops in revenue due to travel restrictions and mandates. But for some Icelanders, it was actually quite nice to have their country all to themselves once again after a decade-long boom in tourism. Local Icelanders got the chance to, once again, experience and enjoy Iceland’s beautiful nature the same way they used to enjoy it before tourists flocked to Iceland. It was now quieter and less crowded and locals could now go to tourist hotspots that they previously avoided due to tourist crowds (like the attractions along the South Ring Road). Icelanders got to travel locally with their families again and spent much of the pandemic just reconnecting with their families and friends. With tourism essentially on pause, it also gave nature time to rest and recover, something that was much needed in Iceland. Funny enough, though, despite everything I wrote above, when the country was open to tourists again, a lot of Icelanders, who are a social breed of people, actually appreciated and welcomed the tourists again. Not only did tourists bring money that was desperately needed into the country’s economy, but they also brought with them interesting conversation topics and new perspectives that helped break up the monotony of Icelanders keeping conversations afloat with people they’ve known their whole lives. During the pandemic, Icelanders actually missed seeing and talking to us tourists! Funny!

2. Thordis informed me that Icelandic weddings typically don’t have wedding parties to accompany the bride and groom to the altar but just have the bride and groom’s fathers present at the altar for their ceremony.

3. Supposedly, until 1974, the many rivers running through Iceland played a major role in travel and exploration in the country. Rivers were one of the major reasons that limited domestic traveling because, at the time, the country lacked a way to cross those rivers. However, around 1974, Iceland was gifted single-laned bridges to bridge them to broader horizons and to expand their previously-limited area for exploration.

4. When the latter half of the year arrives with its darkness, snow, and cold, windy weather, non-city-dwelling people in Iceland sometimes have to take up a secondary job or change the nature of their primary jobs because their work may be limited due to the challenging and harsh weather conditions. For example, if the farmers are growing crops, they can’t really do any of that in the winter. So they, along with other people from the countryside in need of something to do, sometimes volunteer to help in town. Sometimes they volunteer in civil roles and things like firefighting and teaching. Others will just take the down time to fix up their homes and do repairs they didn’t time to get to over the year. If you’re a farmer who raises animals or has animals to deal with, those farmers can continue working but maybe in a different way. Dairy farmers will continue their work with their cows. Sheep farmers will work to feed and breed their sheep after the sheep have been collected from the previously-green-but-now-yellow-and-brown fields where they roamed all summer. They can also start collecting the wool they shave off the sheep to get that side of the business going.

5. It isn’t that farmers don’t grow crops in Iceland because of the poor soil. Rather, they can’t grow successful crop fields because of the variation in the amount of sunlight and relative lack of sunlight during certain parts of the year. However, some manage to grow potatoes or other crops in very environmentally-controlled set-ups like greenhouses.

[thosemeddlingsims]

Hey gang... it’s me again. And finally had something from the crevices of my mind for a follow-up to my previous fic. Again, I still don’t where this will be going but I had this buzzing in my head for the past few days? weeks?

I don't believe it's as intense as the previous one. Anyway, comments are welcome. Heh.

flustered.

RATED T (i guess)

*buzz* *buzz* *buzz*

*buzz* *buzz* *buzz*

*buzz* *buzz* *buzz*

A jaded Daphne woke up to the vibrations from her phone. She had found it difficult to get some proper sleep from these past couple of days. She couldn’t stop thinking about what came down between her and Fred. It’s not that she didn’t like it... She just didn’t anticipate it. And now she felt intoxicated with his touch.

She could still feel his warm skin against hers and his rough skillful hands brushing across her skin. Just the thought of him has been making her hot and bothered. She could feel her heartbeat increase and her temperature rise. She was definitely not ready to see him; not yet at least. Not if he still makes her feel this way.

*buzz* *buzz* *buzz*

There it was again. Now, she was certain it wasn’t some alarm clock she forgot to turn off. She rummaged through her silk lilac sheets. Where is that damned phone?

She twisted and turned on her stomach until finally, being able to grasp at her hard-cased device hidden beneath a couple of decorative pillows. 10:05 flashed on the screen but that wasn’t what she wanted to check. It was the eight missed calls that she had received since yesterday afternoon. She knew who one of them was, she just didn’t have the courage to pick it up. She focused at her screen, believing that at that moment it would ring. Would he call again?

She thought everything went smoothly the day after it happened. Her sister Dawn had just finished up a collection and she had tasked Daphne to conjure up some looks for the runway and the editorial shoot. She was preoccupied, and it helped that no one rang her up on her personal phone until that afternoon - Fred sent her a text. She thought she had gone past it. But just seeing his name made her feel like a huge splash of ice-cold water was thrown over her.

It was just a casual “hello” and “how are you doing?” But it was hard for her to answer back. It shouldn’t be this uncomfortable, he’s not even around. She left it on read. That’s all she could do but then she would feel a pang of guilt. Then it got followed up by a phone call a couple of hours after. She screamed into an innocent rose-colored pillow for some form of release.

---

Although unmotivated, she had eventually got to lift herself up from her bed. She didn’t feel like doing anything at all. Daph… you’re going to have to address it eventually. Or… we could just dodge the thing entirely and pretend it never happened.

In the back of her head, she was taking the blame. It was her who put her lips on his. She hated it and she regret it. And she’s never one to believe in regrets. Jeepers Daph… this could potentially hurt your friendship. Why?! Why’d you do it?! A beat and a pause. Hormones… that’s probably it. Sure Daph! Let’s just pretend that you’re still a freaking teenager.

She headed to her on-suite bathroom and washed her face. Her thoughts continued to eat at her until she heard her doorbell ring. Her heartbeat quickened. Please tell me it’s not him…

She dragged her feet out of the cold marble tile from the bathroom, across the soft carpet of the bedroom to the maple hardwood flooring of her living room. She finally ended up at her destination and found herself staring at the knob of her front door. She could check out the window to see who would be standing on the opposite side but with everything going on? She had her guesses.

Opening the door, her hunch was right. Fred was right there, in a plain white shirt and blue denim jeans, his scrunched-up eyebrows giving off a hint of concern. Damn it.

“Hey. Sorry to come unannounced but…” He started off, softly. “You never really answered my calls. Shaggy also tried calling last night but you never picked up. I wanted to know how you were doing.”

“Umm…” She couldn’t look at him in the eyes and tried to direct her gaze down at the concrete. “Sorry. I was… busy.”

“Oh right.” He lets out a chuckle. She did tell him the other day that she would be preoccupied with her sister’s project. “Dawn’s umm… thing. Forgot about that. Sorry.”

“Uh… yeah.” Daphne could feel the atmosphere getting tenser and tenser by the second. She didn’t know where to look now and just settled her eyes on the crook of his neck. But she couldn’t really stop herself from looking up to his lips, soft and welcoming. “And you don’t need to be sorry Freddie.”

It was an awkward and hushed exchange, most of the awkwardness radiating from Daphne. She was imagining him taking her right then and there. Then she felt it again; her temperature rising, her heartbeat racing and every part of her face turning red. Jeepers… Am I having a fever now? This should really stop.

“Daph…” Fred cocked his head and looked at her, scratching the back of his head in search of words to say. “I… uh… It’s not really urgent or anything but I uh… wanted to ask you about something.”

Her eyes widened and her legs buckled, not certain if it was out of fear or something else entirely. He would most likely ask about what happened two days ago. Was this a one-time thing? Will this affect our friendship? Her mind raced, asking the same questions she had that day. She looked up at him and into his cerulean eyes, an obvious mistake. Even the weather started feeling warmer. “Umm… What… is it about?”

“Uh...” His voice was low and so he decided to move closer. “I wanted to know about the other day… Was it—"

“JONES?” A bellowing falsetto note broke off the tension between them. A strawberry blonde girl that had a strong resemblance to Daphne was going up the front steps, a forced toothy smile painted on her face. Oh my god, Dawn. Such perfect timing.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice softening to a lower volume. “And why are you outside in this burning heat? It’s so awful of my sister not to let you in.”

“I… umm…” Fred didn’t know how to respond. This was always his problem when he sees one of Daphne’s sisters, you never really know if they’re going to listen to you or not. And Dawn was always a burst of energy that he didn’t know if he could even answer a word or two to her questions. And the weather, it wasn’t really scalding hot. It just felt warm because Daphne was right there, her presence is enough to make him melt into a puddle of goop. “Hi Dawn.”

“And you… why are you still in your pajamas?” Clearly averting her attention to Daphne this time, looking at her violet satin ensemble. “It’s almost 12 in the afternoon Doofy… Not that we’re going anywhere. But you do know that no Blake should be seen unpolished.”

Daphne released a huff of air and rolled her eyes at her sister’s commentary. She hated the pet name her sisters gave her, but it was much more tolerable than the others she had before. And what if she was in her pajamas? They were of the highest quality and she didn’t really have any plans to leave the house. “Hi Dawn. Didn’t think you’d be coming today.”

Dawn brushed her sister off and nonchalantly entered the house and looked around the living room. “Well, you do have the model portfolios and the initial ensembles. And I, for one, am excited to take a look at them. So… where are they now?”

“Umm…” The awkward atmosphere came back. She didn’t know how to handle Dawn while having to temper her pounding heart around Fred. “Power up the laptop in my room. They’re there.”

“Uh… Daph. I think I should go.” As he looked to the direction Dawn went - Daphne’s bedroom.

“What?” Daphne jerked her head towards him, her voice cracking. She caught herself, lightly laying her palm on her chest and clearing her throat. “I thought you were going to ask something.”

“Ah… yeah.” Fred rubbed his nape. “But I think, this isn’t the best time.”

He turned around to leave but she grabbed him by the hand. This was the first time their skins touched since that day and it was electric. He looked at her, there was a glint in her eyes but he just couldn’t put a finger on it. It felt like she was pleading for him to stay awhile. “Hey… it’s just Dawn. We could still talk.”

“We have a lot of days ahead of us Daph.” He smiled his special smile at her. He wanted to stay. He needed to know if she wanted that as much as he did. He needed to know if he would have that chance to take her once again and be able to taste her soft strawberry-flavored lips. But with Dawn around, awkwardness would just be at the center and forefront of their interaction. He took a few steps closer and quickly brushed off a stray hair from the side of her cheek with his fingers. “I’ll see you, ok?”

“Bye.” Her voice came out raspier than she intended as she looked into his eyes. At that moment, it was taking all of her willpower not to kiss him again.

“Bye Daph.” He leaned in and softly kissed her lips. She froze, her eyes widening. It felt like time has stopped and it was just the two of them. But then he also froze, realizing what he’d done. He immediately let her go. They stared at each other, both in a state of shock of how naturally he just did that.

“Go Fred.” Her voice breathy as she bit onto her lip. She couldn’t look at him now. Not again, not after that.

“Right. Sorry.” He scratched his head, hurriedly turning around to run down the steps. “Bye.”

She watched him and unconsciously brushed her lips with the tips of her fingers. She threw her head back, finally noticing Dawn standing across from her, watching her with a smirk on her lips. “I saw that.”

“You saw nothing Dawn.” Daphne’s voice was low and harsh, her stare threatening. “YOU SAW NOTHING.“

“Oh c’mon...” Dawn’s voice had a melodious tone to it and giggled. “Are you two an item again? I mean you did date back in high school, right?”

“DAWN!” Her voice resonating throughout the room. A feeling of dread enveloping her. She rushed towards her sister's direction, pointing a finger at her. “Shut up! You shut up right now! You saw nothing. That was nothing. Nothing compared to what happened last—”

“Compared to what Doofy?” Her last statement piqued Dawn’s interest as she immediately stopped herself and slapped her hands over her mouth. Dawn raised an eyebrow at her, she was definitely intrigued.  “Daphne Ann… what aren’t you telling me?”

“I… uh…” She was flustered. As much as she loved Dawn, she’s not the person she would run to talk to about her love life. Velma and Shaggy knew more about her dating history than any of her sisters. She’ll get nothing from Dawn but jest and ‘light-hearted’ mockery. She straightened herself up, smoothing the creases of her pajama top. “Nothing. I’m not telling you anything.”

“Don’t tell me you had sex.” Dawn was many things and being crass with her words was definitely one of them. Daphne pursed her lips into a thin line, and she could feel her cheeks burning. Dawn’s eyes widened and she grinned from ear to ear. “No way!”

“Dawn…” Daphne took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to sort out her thoughts. “I don’t know what to tell you. But yes… Fred and I… we… we did it.”

“Oh my—”

“Dawn… just...” She huffed, holding a palm out towards her sister with a stern look on her face. “I’m not sure if it meant something to him… I don’t know if we can still be friends after that… I just…”

“Oh my dear baby sister… you’re certainly no longer just friends.” Dawn looked on as Daphne’s shoulder slumped, then covered her face with her hands and sat down on the hardwood floor. She gave a soft empathetic smile as she approached her sister to give a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “But not to be any more of a Debbie Downer here… you do know that mother and father don’t like him, right?”

“Mother and father didn’t like anyone I chose to date on my own Dawn.” She looked pensively at Dawn, her eyes starting to water and her breathing getting harsher. “But this is Freddie… I… he is… he’s one of my best friends! I… this… we can’t… I don’t know if I can Dawn!”

“Hey, hey Daphne… shhh… Calm down.” She crouched down to her level and enveloped her sister in a warm comforting hug. “You two should talk this out… but I’m not really one to give out advices. I’m not one for relationships, that’s Daisy’s department. Casual hook-ups never really bothered me. And you know, if it’s never brought up, it will never be talked about.”

“Oh Dawn…” Daphne released a sob that she didn’t realize she has been holding in her throat. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh Daphne… I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”