#why do i keep misspelling roommates

[aniharas]

𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥!𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘩.𝘤.'𝘴 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦)

pairing: obsessed!down bad!felix catton x fem!reader

summary: felix's lack of control over his deep feelings for you, his revisions partner, begins to spiral him into a sick and twisted sense of keeping you as his.

warnings: explicit language, sexual tension & content, themes of purity and corruption, use of cigarettes and alcohol

wc: 2.1k+

Maybe Felix Catton wasn’t the mindless pretty boy at Oxford like everyone had chalked him up to be. Maybe he was, at least until he saw you.

At first, he wasn’t exactly the most excited when he found out his revisions partner was you, a scholarship girl. A first-class student. Always buried in textbooks nonstop, always holed up with nerdy little books doing your nerdy little homework. He never found people like you any fun, so he braced himself for a snoozefest as you plopped down into the armchair beside him.

But Felix couldn’t have ever been more wrong about the pureness that was you. Sickly sweet, serene you. Skin tantalizingly covered by whatever shoddy arrangements Oxfam provided. Black-rimmed glasses with a prescription so high, it made your bambi-like eyes bulge out of your head. Voice so sugary, he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. You were a prude by all means, but you made it look so damn good. God forbid the tutor asked him anything about your essay, it was fuck all in his brain. And god forbid anyone asked him to make sense of what he felt for you.

And so he eagerly showed up to each revision. It started with the simplest of gestures. Holding the door open for you, carrying your books. He noticed you always walked home alone after each session at night, so he took it upon himself to escort you back to your dorm safely. 

And then it was gifts. Things that he could nonchalantly pass off as having extra of. Packaged sweets from the dining hall, an extra No. 2 pencil. He even tried to offer you a cigarette as the two of you strolled across campus. Of course, being the modest girl you were, you refused. He was glad that you did. You were responsible, you were good. He loved that about you.

But it wasn’t enough. Those brief, one-hour sessions were far from enough. Being the workaholic you were, you were hard to find around campus; that bit irked him. The whole “girl” thing was second-nature to him. They came to him in swarms, in fact. Why were you never there? That was fine with him, he liked the chase. He’d find a way.

“Tutor you? Felix, I think you’re doing fine–” “Codswallop, and you know it. You, on the other hand…you’re exceptional.” “I don’t think I’m exactly qualified enough-” “I do.”

And these newfound tutoring sessions were far better than what he had been getting. He never thought he’d look forward to being in a tutorial for hours in a stiff library chair, but the very thought consumed his waking days. Because it was you, dressed in your hand-me-down school jumper, brows adorably furrowed as you hastily scribbled notes across the margins of his essays. He wasn’t exactly the best at writing, but he occasionally found himself misspelling words just to see you get irritated with him. 

“Sometimes it slips my mind that you’re a rich kid. Until I remember we’re at Oxford and this is what you wrote,” you had said one time. Had it been from anyone else, he would’ve blown a fuse. But it was you, who always snuck in bites of your Crunchie between each sentence. You were so genuine, so oblivious to the world around you. He could never be upset with you.

Which is why he felt responsible for you. But how could he protect you when you were so elusive? He considered himself blessed if he found you at King’s Arms on the weekends, or anywhere at all. And blessed he was, on a Friday night, just before Oxford let out for the holidays.

It was you, accompanied by your trashy roommates. “Come on, just once before you go home,” they had whined as they pushed you through the doors. Upon this rare sighting, Felix decided that the story he was entertaining his table with was pointless, ceasing his conversation. It was like he was in a trance, the way he stood from his seat and gravitated toward you. Wordlessly, he plucked you away from your roommates. He figured you were better off with him.

It was clear that you weren’t used to any sort of bar culture, and while he found that endearing, he made sure to look over you. He booted a girl from his group just so he could seat you next to him, all while making sure you didn’t see the nasty glare she gave you. 

Assigning himself as your drink-sitter, he carefully scrutinized whatever you ended up drinking. Any strong liquors that came your way were quickly confiscated, much to Farleigh’s disdain (although he was placated once the extra shots were passed along to him). All you had to your name was a modest mug of beer, which you sipped at tentatively as you tried to make sense of the conversation around you.

You had gotten through one beer, though you were struggling about halfway through your refill. Despite that, Felix was in awe of you. The whining as he took the cup away, the mindlessly giggling at a joke one of the girls told, the fidgeting with the hem of your jumper. How could someone make drinking look so innocent? 

“My face is hot.” “You’ve got a buzz going. It’s quite a look.” “A good one or a bad one?” “A bit of a naughty one.” He quickly earned a punch in the arm from you.

And this was far better than the revisions or the tutoring. To finally discuss something other than academics with you was refreshing. He found himself recounting all of his stories, even the ones he had already told that night, just so he could hear you laugh at everything he said. It was a melody in his ears, a tiny bell jingling beside him.

Once the company began to fall out, Felix took you to get a breath of fresh air just beside the entrance of the pub. “D’you need anyone to take you home?” “Nooo, my roommates are heading back anyways.” “You sure? I can–” “Oh, you’re too kind. Why don’t you have a lover yet?”

The question was so forward and sudden, he couldn’t help but be surprised. You were definitely tipsy.  “Huh…haven’t given much thought to it.” “Well, you should.” “And that means?” “They’d be lucky.”

Felix couldn’t help it; he was out of control, cradling your face into his hands as his heart threatened to leap out of his chest. They were indeed hot, you weren’t lying about that. There was silence, anticipation with a bated breath, and then your lips were all that he felt. If anyone was watching, and they most likely were, it was like he was holding himself back. Jaw tensed, muscles taut, brows scrunched. It almost looked like he was in pain.

And he was in pain, his restraint being tested every second he kissed you. Trying so desperately to not have his way with you, to take you home and screw you into his dorm mattress. That’s not the type of person you were.

But boy, did you make it difficult. The mere act of placing your hands against his chest, pressing your body against his. Again, painfully obvious this wasn’t something you did often, but that made it all the more perfect to him. He intended to keep you that way, which is why he let go.

The confusion that overtook your features made him regret his decision more and more, twisting his insides with guilt for leaving you hanging. Your lips, donning a soft shine, mouthed his name, but any sound went fuzzy in his ears. The more he stared at them, the more that forbidden feeling stirred inside of him.

Mumbling an apology, he abruptly stepped back, not even sure of what he was even doing. He had to get away, head home. It was ironic, to long for you so deeply but to hold himself back from indulging in you. He was never one to shy away from what he desired; it was his very nature, his reputation. But he couldn’t just use a girl like you to scratch one of his sexual itches, how could he bring himself to?

And so, Felix turned his back on you, not uttering another word. He pushed through the crowded walkway in a blind frenzy, ignoring the people who tried to strike up conversation. Never once looking back. 

Soon enough, he heaved the grand doors open to his hall, ready to sleep off the feeling until a sultry voice called to him from his right. Annabel. Apparently she had been waiting for him.

It wasn’t long before she was straddled across his lap, basically eating away at the lower half of his face as she eagerly fumbled with his belt buckle. That’s what turned him off about her. Too eager, too annoying. It played a part as to why he had kept his distance from her, but for that night, she was better than nothing.

As she slipped off his lap to kneel on the messy floor of his dorm, his mind drifted elsewhere. The desperate girl in front of him disappeared, then you were there, just as he left you. Staring up at him behind your obnoxious glasses, your bottom lip trembling. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Would you even know how to do this sort of thing? 

If he allowed himself, he’d guide you, gripping a part of your hair. Not tight enough to hurt you, of course, just enough to get leverage. He’d watch as your pretty lips parted to take him in, taking your sweet time. Your mouth would be soft and hot, your tongue shifting about awkwardly underneath him. He bet that you’d have it down quickly; you were good at most things, being a quick learner. Perhaps there would be a few scrapes from your canines as you bobbed up and down, if he were to be realistic. But the sting was more than alright with him.

Felix always prided in himself for his ability to give a girl a good, long time. Why else would they flock to him by the dozens? So what was so different about you that made him feel like he was already about to burst the seams?

Because it was still you, sickly sweet and serene you, lips wrapped around him and devouring him like the candy you always loved. Your eyes would water, but he’d gladly wipe away each drop that managed to escape. It left him a whiny mess. Sweat prickling at his forehead, ragged breaths heaving his shoulders up and down, white-knuckling your hair.

And when he’d come close, he’d let you know. You didn’t like being caught off-guard. Your heavy disdain for pop-quizzes or his endless pranks of sneaking up behind you made that apparent. But he prided himself in knowing these things about you, that he was able to gather it all from your little ramblings. 

You liked American reality TV. Disliked gel pens. Loved your chips overdone. A ridiculous query crossed his mind. Would you like spitting or swallowing? Or would you rather it all over you? From how your lips were glued to him, it seemed like swallowing. But that made him hesitate. You would never like such a thing. You were squeamish around anything sticky or slimy. Cough syrup, oily or tacky lotions…you hated them. As much as it dismayed him, why would this be any different?

Because it wasn’t you. And as soon as the girl he had taken back to his dorm reappeared, he knew that she could never be you. Nobody could. He was disgusted with himself for dirtying that memory of you. He had turned something so innocent into something so grossly erotic, and he knew he had crossed a line. How could he ever see you the same way again?

He was also disgusted with how Annabel seemed to not care despite his disillusion. She might have been the only girl he had seen that got off on merely sucking someone off. It was genuinely pathetic. Her head was swiftly yanked up, her lips making a “pop” sound.

“Alright, get out.” “What? But we’ve barely done anything, Fe–” “I don’t fuckin’ care. Piss the fuck off!”

Felix thought he would feel bad about kicking Annabel out, especially after she left in tears with her clothes haphazardly buttoned. But he could genuinely not have cared in the slightest; he was already preoccupied, mind filled with guilt after what he had done to you. But did he feel regret? No. That’s what ate at him the most. Someone like him shouldn’t have gone for someone like you. 

Perhaps it was better to try and forget that he kissed you. Kissing you meant opening the floodgates of his feelings, his debauchery. He had to keep that closed so that you could stay as pure as you always were. His perfect girl.

And he would do anything to keep you that way.

to be continued!

a/n: dutifully fulfilling this request by my lovely anon. i wanted to delve more into the selfish, savior complex that he was and i DEFINITELY intend to take it deeper for the next part. again, thank you for the ask! co-written by @hellb4ts! leon, thank you for the many wonderful ideas. and you're welcome for introducing you to saltburn <3 inbox is open for any asks or reqs !

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put yourself on my taglist here!

@vannyangelxoxo @lilyrachelcassidy

[waitineedaname]

"Accidently ending a phone call with your roommate with a casual ‘I love you’ seems like a very good reason to move out"

For benrey @ gordon?

“And can you pick up some oat milk while you’re there? I just realized I’m out.”

“Man, oat milk freaks me out,” Benrey said, pushing their shopping cart towards the dairy section anyway. “Like, do oats even have, uh. Others?”

“Others?” There was a beat of silence as Gordon attempted to figure out exactly what the hell Benrey was talking about. “You mean udders?”

“Yeah. Cow things.”

“Dude, that’s not how oat milk works.” Gordon’s laugh made Benrey’s cheap phone speakers crackle.

“Then how does it work? Huh? Mister scientician?” Benrey propped the phone between their ear and shoulder as they opened the fridge door to grab the brand of oat milk he knew Gordon liked.

“I don’t fucking know! I’m not a goddamn milk scientist.” Even through a phone call, Benrey could hear the smile on Gordon’s face. “They squeeze juice out of the oats or smush them into a paste or something. I don’t know. Stop making me think about how oat milk works, it’s going to make me not want to drink it anymore.”

“Cool, so I’ll buy milk with extra lactose then.”

“You will not, unless you wanna deal with me laying on the couch complaining all afternoon because my stomach hurts.”

“You do that anyway.”

“Fuck off, man.” Gordon’s tone of voice didn’t carry any bite to it. “Alright, I gotta go, I’m almost at the end of the queue to pick Joshie up. I’ll see you back at home, okay?”

“Mhm. Love you, bye.” Benrey hung up and shoved their phone back in their jacket pocket. They unfolded the shopping list and attempted to decipher the mix of their own chicken scratch, Gordon’s doctor handwriting, and the occasional misspelled request for snacks in Joshua’s six year old handwriting. Okay, they had to get those frozen chicken nuggets Joshua liked, another pack of seltzer, a can of black beans since Gordon was planning to cook dinner tonight-

Thinking about Gordon made them suddenly freeze in place as they realized what they’d just done. Did… Did they just say “love you” on the phone with Gordon?

Aw, fuck.

They’d been living with Gordon for a while now. It hadn’t always been an easy thing for either of them. When they’d been freshly respawned, both of them had been jumpy around each other at best, and at worst, they were at each other’s throats trying to kill each other. It took a long time and a lot of uncomfortable conversations for them to get to the point where they could interact without an unbearable amount of tension. From there, they were able to start rebuilding an actual friendship. Turns out, they got along a lot better when they weren’t in mortal danger. Who knew!

Living with Gordon involved a lot of rules, both spoken and unspoken. They involved stuff like “don’t ask weird questions about Gordon’s feet,” “if one of them gets too angry, walk it off instead of actually fighting,” and “no gross body horror in front of Gordon’s son.” It also involved shit like “please for the love of god don’t put empty juice cartons back in the fridge” and “don’t stain the carpets with Sweet Voice, this is a rental and that security deposit is worth getting back.” So far, Benrey hadn’t had too much trouble following the rules. They had been a security guard, after all; following rules was supposed to be their thing. Besides, they were a low price to pay to get to spend time with Gordon.

One of those early unspoken rules, however, had been “keep the flirting to a minimum.” That one had been a little tricky at first, but it had been necessary, especially back when they still weren’t on the best of terms. Benrey learned that when Gordon was already worked up, blowing a kiss did the opposite of diffusing the situation. This was news to Benrey. Who didn’t love a little kiss from their buddies? Lame.

That had been an early rule, though, and one that had kind of faded into the background over time. The longer they lived together, the more physically affectionate they both got, and a little domesticity is only to be expected when you share a household. It was nice. Comfortable.

And then Benrey had to go and say “I love you” on the phone. What the fuck.

That had to be crossing a line, right? Gordon was fine with some handholding and some cuddling and they’d make dinner together once a week, but this had to be pushing it.

Benrey went through the rote motions of buying the rest of their groceries without really paying attention, too busy panicking. There was only one option. They had to move out. This was fine. This was totally fine. They could just crash on Tommy’s couch until they find a place of their own because there was no way this wasn’t going to make Gordon freak the fuck out. As much as they loved fucking with Gordon, they’d learned there was the fun kind of freaking him out and the bad kind of freaking him out. They were fairly certain this fell into the bad category.

By the time that they were walking up to their apartment door, they were already mentally packing up all their things, resigned to their fate. They were so stuck in their own head that Joshua barreling into their legs when they opened the door actually startled them.

“Benny!” Joshua cheered, clinging to their jeans.

“Hey, li’l dude.” Benrey carefully tried to push past the kid without tripping over him on the way to the kitchen. Tragically, that’s where Gordon also happened to be.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Gordon asked, taking some of the grocery bags from them. “I thought you’d gotten lost in Costco again.”

Benrey grunted noncommittally and started putting away groceries instead of answering Gordon. Maybe if they didn’t look at him, they could avoid confronting whatever Gordon’s reaction was. Yeah, definitely, this seemed like a sustainable, reasonable decision to make. Yep.

“Dude.” Gordon’s hand suddenly appeared on their forearm. Benrey stared at it, then looked up at Gordon’s concerned face. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You’re putting carrots in the utensil drawer.”

Benrey looked down at their hands again. Oh. So they were.

“You’ve been acting weird ever since you got back from the store,” Gordon said, gently taking the carrots away from them. “Did something happen? You wanna talk about it?”

Benrey screwed their mouth up. No, they didn’t want to talk about it, but learning how to talk through things like adults was something they both had agreed to do. That had been a rule introduced by an exasperated Tommy, sick of mediating their bullshit. So, they sighed and looked away while Gordon put the carrots in the vegetable drawer of the fridge. “I was thinking about how I’ve gotta move out.”

“What?” Gordon stood up too fast and smacked his head on the freezer door. He swore loudly, and Benrey reached over to hand him a bag of frozen peas to put on the back of his head. “Thanks. But also, what? Since when are you moving out?”

“Uh, since now?” Benrey said, confused. Shouldn’t it be obvious?

“Why?”

“‘Cause I said I love you on the phone? Dummy? You, uh, a fucking old man got bad brain disease, not remembering things?” They said, defaulting to picking on Gordon to avoid focusing on anything else. Gordon stared blankly at them for a moment, then, against all odds, a grin spread across his face.

“Benrey,” He said, and Benrey decided he didn't like that tone one bit, “Are you embarrassed?”

“Whuh? No.” There was no way they could be embarrassed. That definitely wasn't what was going on here. Nope. Not a bit, “...Maybe.”

“Dude, you don't have to be embarrassed about that.” Gordon laughed. “Do you know how often I've said stupid Freudian slips? I called my sixth grade teacher mom once and wanted to change my name and move to Canada. I've been there.”

“It wasn't, uh… It wasn't too much? Not crossing a line or anything?”

“Nah, man. It was kinda sweet.” Gordon flashed him a smile and finished putting away the last of the groceries.

“Cool.” Benrey relaxed, letting go of the tension that had been building in their shoulders. “That's good ‘cause I was gonna fight you for custody of your Xbox.” Gordon snorted.

“Good fucking luck, you’re too much of a Playstation guy to win that case.”

The evening passed relatively uneventfully from there. Gordon enlisted Benrey’s help in cooking dinner, and Joshua eagerly told them all about the cool dinosaur facts he’d learned in class that day. They went through the easy routine of watching just one episode (which of course always turned into several episodes) of Joshua’s choice of TV, then Benrey helped wash up in the kitchen while Gordon put Josh to bed. Gordon joined them as they finished washing dishes and squeezed Benrey’s shoulder affectionately when they were done.

“Alright, man, I think I’m gonna head to bed early tonight.”

Benrey nodded. “Cool. I’ll be quiet.”

“Don’t worry about it. G’night, dude.”

“Night, Gordon.”

“Oh, and Benrey?” Gordon paused in the doorway of his bedroom and waited until Benrey glanced up at him. Gordon smiled. “Love you too.”

He shut the door before Benrey could respond, leaving Benrey to stare blankly at the door. They let out a groan, careful not to wake Joshua. Oh, Gordon was going to be the death of them.

[skzfairies]

late nights

pairing: harry potter x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff/slight angst

warnings: lowercase, mentions of harry dying, misspelling and maybe some misuse of words

masterlist

you listened as the fire crackled in the warm fire place infront of the the table you were sitted in front of.

you could barely keep your eyes open, the warmness of the common room making sleep feel so enticing. but, you had to wait for harry, you were worried and anxious about his whereabouts. you checked his dorm, and you saw that both his invisibility clock and his wand were gone. you couldn’t find the maurarders map either, and you were unable to find any of his roommates or hermonie.

knowing harry, he was probably deep on the grounds, probably finding some new thing to fight or go after, so you stayed in the common room, waiting for him to come back, with brusies and scars on his face, or for someone to come in declaring him dead.

thinking about the countless of things harry could be doing, the fire started to die off, making the room chill, and creepily quiet.

there was no loud snoring coming from the dormitory’s, no students staying up way past their bed time, just quietness.

it was so peaceful, you felt you mouth unclenching, and your shoulders droop, i guess it wouldn’t be so bad if you just shut your eyes.

you felt a cold hand tapping your shoulder, and a soft whisper making it’s way into your ear.

“go away” you mumble, your voice barely audible.

but the hand continued to shake you, you didn’t know why the hand wasn’t leaving you alone, you just wanted to sleep.

“y/n, it’s me, harry” the voice whispered, and this time you could actually hear the voice.

harry?

your eyes slowly opened, and you were met with the mess haired boy with glasses, trying to shake you awake. the boy softly giggled at you, you figured that he was laughing at your bed head and the droop of your eyes.

“you git.” you whispered, remembering that he made you stay up in worry thinking he was killed.

“yeah yeah i know, let’s get you up to bed sleepy head, i’ll explain tomorrow when you can process the information.”

you felt his calloused hands pulling your underarms up, and wrapped his arm around your waist and shoulder, leading you up to your respectable staircase.

that night you dreamt about the boy who always made you worry, but was so gentle with you, and made you feel so loved. perhaps the love made up for the late nights that you pulled you hair out for him.

[bumackerman]

DEAR ADULT READERS/CREATORS,

18+ (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

^ see that? there is absolutely no way you missed that disclaimer if you understand the proper way to read english. but, let’s say you did miss it... here’s this message;

if you are under the age of 18, do not interact with 18+ adult accounts, or content.

there. hopefully you got the memo. if not, then i guess, one day, you’ll have the great opportunity to be featured in this brand new series of exposing, purging, and reporting minors! i mean... yay you?

disclaimer!; do not send any unnecessary hate to any of these people! it does not solve anything, and it could get you in trouble. just report, and block. thanks.

featured today, we have (drumroll please)... @/matching-with-my-demons!

warning: this post is very long!

alright, so i don’t actually know for sure if he’s necessarily a minor, but i do know that he’s been lying his age, and many, many other details about his life, leading to him getting caught by yours truly.

from this point forward, i will be reciting a briefed account of what exactly happened from a collective point of view of all of the victims involved.

I. beginning.

so, (and i think all of the people involved can agree,) this person is a flirt. automatically. just giving everyone pet names, talking about doing stuff with us, role playing with us, you know. nothing too extreme. i wasn’t suspicious of him at this point. i mean, i was sure he was 18+. to be fair, he did mention that he was 21 turning 22. why wouldn’t we believe him? he was speaking like an adult.

II. little lies & suspicion.

now, i’m not saying that this is impossible, but at multiple times during our conversations, he’d mentioned that he was was fluent in seven languages. seven. it’s not entirely impossible, but you’d think that if english wasn’t someone’s first (of many) languages, they’d have some sort of accent, right?

not only that, but he stated that he was six years old when he moved to america from japan, and he hasn’t moved since. i know, i know, yeah, cool he knows a lot of languages, and he’s a foreigner. yadda, yadda. get to the point.

he said that he was of asian descent, and that his parents were both japanese, and they lived in japan their whole lives. where the hell is he learning all of these extra languages at the young age of 21?

if japanese is his first language, we can cut out the time needed to become fluent in it. next, i’m ignoring english, as he would’ve had from the age of 6 to 21 to become fluent in it, but somehow he claimed he wasn’t? (let’s not mention the obvious fake misspellings and misunderstandings of simple words.) how on earth would he have become fluent in (at least) five other languages in middle school-high school?

OTHER LITTLE LIES N DETAILS

- he claimed that he was a 6’7, 21 year old (cis) male.

- said he was a stripper, bartender, and a sex worker (we’ll come back to that later).

- sent a picture of “his” chest, but it was 100% from google or some shit.

- (not judging anyone who does) he said that his body count was 74, but literally no one asked?

- he texted us when he “got another body” tf? we don’t care. carry on, i guess. (said he went on for like 7 rounds but... what?)

- talked about getting a vibrator stuck in his ass n his roommate had to get it out for him, but once again, nobody asked. °-°

- said he could bench 200 lbs. not impressive, just thought it was worth mentioning.

- said he had the same birthday as bakugou, which, okay.. (4/20)

- he made multiple channels in the server where he could roleplay with certain people, which, i, and a couple other people never used.

III. the voice chat.

after a while of all of us messing around, the conversation started to get heated, and some of us were teasing him, including me. we decided to get on voice chat (his idea), and he started talking into the mic. all of us were very confused, as he did not at all sound like a giant of a grown man.

but, despite this, we all warily continued, until he left the call. when he left, everyone who was participating voiced their current concerns, and laughed out our nervousness. that is, until he re-joined and everyone muted. he continued doing what he was doing until he “broke character”, stating he was a voice actor and it was hard to keep up that voice because it hurt his throat. i would’ve believed him if he didn’t sound the exact same as he did when he was “in character”.

after that, we were a lot more concerned and on edge about his identity, and i started to focus more on the shit he was telling us, hoping to find out who the fuck this person really was. i stopped interacting with him in a nsfw way, and mostly observed what he was saying, just watching from the sidelines.

II. the pictures.

captions:

not only do the skin colors just not match up, the hands in each picture are totally different people. even if you take into account the lighting differences, the undertones should still be the same. these pictures are fake.

if you look at the fingers, you can see that the ones on the right are flatter, and shorter. if the hand on the left were to hold that phone, it would wrap all the way around the device.

from a common sense standpoint, we know that our palms are always lighter than our skin tone. the fact that the hand on the left is still darker, proves that these are different people. (not that we needed proof.)

also, if this guy is so muscular, why can he only bench 200lbs? and why is his wrist so skinny?

+ to me, the phone, (right image) and the quality of the picture, looks like a black iphone 4s. from what i can see, at least. meaning, if i’m correct, that picture is majorly outdated.

for both pictures, he flipped the image so that we wouldn’t be able to find it by just by reverse image searching. luckily, one of the people involved was able to figure that out, and told me immediately.

III. ID check.

like i said before, a lot of us were starting to get really suspicious, but at this point, i thought i was the only one that was sketched out, so i issued another ID check.

(be sure to click on the pictures. one of them is really long. also, when reading, read the date and times that messages are sent. i was trying to lighten the mood and be nice, but it was honestly so offensive that he thought i was legitimately dumb.)

so, obviously, these ID’s are fake. not only are the pictures the exact same, but the backgrounds are the same, the outfits are the same, the names are totally fake, and just, wow. i don’t really know how he thought that was gonna slip past me.

after i called both him, and @/yourmajesty-theking out, he went into his own discord and started ranting to some of the other people involved that he was freaking out because he didn’t have his ID.

remember how i said that he mentioned he was a stripper/bartender/sex worker? why the fuck don’t you have your ID on you if you claimed you were at work that day? you can’t get in without it. °-° just- everything he was saying didn’t come together cleanly. the timeline is all sorts of fucked up.

you can’t drive without an ID, how are you getting to work? you can’t get into a strip club without an ID, how are you getting in? you can’t serve alcohol without and ID, how are you a bartender? you can’t get an apartment without an ID, how are you living with a roommate?

he told us that he moved to america with his PARENTS, and somehow his grandmother is in america now? when did that happen? if you’re gonna lie, at least make it believable.

IV. conclusion.

anyway, do what you want with this information. the people in the discord all agreed that based off his voice and the evidence, that he couldn’t have been older than 15, and at most, 16.

though he hasn’t deactivated his account, the last time he was active was april 7, 2021 at 12:39am (EST) he claims he lives in cali, so i don’t know what time that is there.

thanks for reading. i’m sure i missed a lot of stuff, but for now, this is all i could put together. also, lmk if there are any spelling errors. i’m too tired to check.

like i said, if i get any hate for calling out a minor, you will be blocked/reported, and i will not hesitate to turn anons off for the time being. besides, saying dumb shit doesn’t affect me. just makes me laugh.

- bum <3

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 2

First

Next

Listen, Carapace was totally aware that he should be a little more concerned about what was going on. He just didn’t care.

After all, he had heard many horrifying things about college life. He liked Ramen but not enough to eat it for every meal and he wasn’t fond of the idea of explaining to his roommates why exactly he had to disappear every time there was an akuma instead of seeking shelter with them (and his scholarship wasn’t enough for him to afford an apartment to himself)...

So, yeah, having housing and food paid for for as long as Hawkmoth was around -- which, from the looks of it, was going to be until the man died of old age -- was sounding pretty good.

Sure, he’d have to deal with all the other heroes, but they couldn’t all be that bad. Rena and Chat seemed nice enough. Ladybug was nice, too, though she was more uptight than most people he hung out with. And maybe Chloe had grown a bit as a person since they’d gone to school together…

“You will all be maintaining your secret identities,” said Master Fu, pulling Carapace from his thoughts. “It lowers the chances of you slipping up and calling each other your civilian names in the field.”

Chloe’s nose scrunched a little bit. “So we’re going to be in costume the entire time?”

“No. I’ve created masks infused with the same magic that keeps people from figuring out your identities when you’re in costume.” He saw the look on Ladybug’s face and sighed. “You have two masks each, so you can wash them.”

Ladybug relaxed.

“Great, that settles that…” Master Fu pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen a few times. “Next up: what platform will you be using?”

“TikTok, obviously,” said Chloe in a tone that said ‘don’t fight me on this, you won’t win’.

Carapace fought the urge to roll his eyes. He supposed it had been too much to hope that she would be a better person.

Still, he rather liked the idea of TikTok. He was going to film school, after all, it would be fun to use all the different techniques he learned in his classes to enhance his videos. He supposed there was also YouTube or Instagram, but YouTube meant longer content and Instagram meant more regular posts. No, TikTok was probably the way to go.

When no one objected, Master Fu tapped his phone again. Carapace guessed he had some kind of checklist there.

“... right. You’ll need to create accounts now, please.”

Everyone seemed a bit surprised that he wanted it done so soon, but they all pulled out their phones.

They quickly figured out why he wanted them to do it in front of him, though.

Making an account was harder than they thought it was going to be.

They wanted it to make sense for them, but it turns out waiting multiple years to start an account leads to the most relevant names being taken. Who knew?

Ladybug, after many combinations, managed to get @TheRealLadybug. Fair enough, there probably weren’t many english-speakers pretending to be a Parisian hero.

Chloe got frustrated quickly and ended up finding the person who had stolen @QueenBee and had ‘politely suggested’ that they hand over the account name (and by that I mean she threatened them with legal action).

Chat was next. He looked at his phone, lost in thought, and then shrugged. “How much money do you think I should give for the name?”

What the fuck? How much money did he have? They all knew that Chloe was rich but, with a quick glance at Ladybug and Rena’s faces, he found that no one else had been aware that the cat had been rich, too.

“I’d say 15 thousand, at least,” said Chloe.

Chat nodded slowly. “I’ll do 20 just in case.”

What the fuck?!

But they brushed past this quickly (there was just too much for them to unpack there) and everyone looked at Carapace as Chat started talking to whoever it was about the @ChatNoir name.

Carapace thought for a few minutes. He didn’t want to copy Ladybug’s idea and he didn’t exactly have the resources to threaten or buy the name from anyone, so… He shrugged and started testing out stupid puns. After a minute he managed to secure the name @Capotpace. It was absolutely terrible. He loved it.

Finally, Rena was up. She didn’t even hesitate to show them that she had already come up with something: @RenaRogue.

“... I think you misspelled your name,” said Carapace after a few minutes.

Rena frowned and looked at it, then shook her head. “No, it’s just a reference. In America they call their villains Rogues.”

“You’re American?” Said Ladybug.

“Nope!”

How do you even respond to that? Easy: you don’t. Moving on…

Once Chat had managed to get his account set up, everyone followed each other.

Now what?

Master Fu sighed. “Now that that’s done, I’d like to discuss room placement.”

~

For those of you who don’t know: moving SUCKS.

The whole process is just the absolute worst. You have to choose what you care enough about to keep (and, apparently, “all of it” is not a viable answer), cram it all into boxes, and then get those boxes from one house to the next.

The torture isn’t over, then, though. Then you spend the next few days sleeping on a bare mattress, using some clothes you’d unpacked as makeshift blankets and pillows because you couldn’t remember which box you’d put your sheets in.

And he was doing all of this alone. Master Fu had insisted that they all refrain from bringing their friends and family because of the whole ‘secret identities’ thing.

He dropped onto the couch and glared at the millions of people that Chloe had hired to help her over the rim of his waterbottle. Maybe he should just tell the public his secret identity…

No. That was a bad idea. Unlike Chloe, his family couldn’t afford security guards needed to keep them safe in case Hawkmoth decided that it would be super cool and fun to kidnap a family member for ransom.

He felt someone take a seat next to him on the couch and looked over at Ladybug. She had opted to not be in costume, and it was almost weird to see her in normal clothes. A t-shirt and jeans? That wasn’t allowed. She was only able to wear black and red dresses, he was pretty sure that was a law or something.

He gave her a tired smile. “Salu -- sorry, bonjour.”

She blinked at him a few times. And, oh, she had blue eyes. Wild.

“Might as well say salut, we’re ‘friends’ now,” she said.

She held out a hand to him and he stared at it. After a second’s confusion he shook her hand.

She blinked again. “I… was asking for some water…”

He fought his rapidly growing embarrassment as he handed her the water bottle. “Sorry, I’m just tired.”

She smiled a little. The kind of smile you give scared civilians when you tell them it’s all going to be okay. It felt weird to have it turned on him. This whole conversation was just… weird.

“It’s fine, I am, too.”

She took a few sips of his water and then handed it back to him. He put the cap back on it and sunk into the couch.

They watched the last of Chloe’s helpers leave and he was somewhat glad to see that she seemed just as ticked off by them as he was.

He hesitated. “Want to help each other unpack?”

She blinked for a third time. Maybe that was why she covered her eyes when she fought, she didn’t want people to know when she was confused or shocked.

And then she gave him a smile, a real one this time. For a half second she looked like just a regular teen enjoying time with a friend --.

“I finished yesterday, actually, but I can help you if you want.”

Nope. Still Ladybug. Of course she was already done.

Still…

“Help would be nice, I guess.”

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @mialuvscats @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c

[anythingbutmar]

That’s my girl

Diego Hargreeves x reader

Summary: As a karate teacher, you never thought your life would get more extraordinary after being a teen champion, but when you find yourself in the 60′s looking for your boyfriend, you realize just how wrong you were.

A/N: Ooff this was hard! So much to fit into a one-shot, i hope I didn’t miss anything! I used a chinese name for the mentor but I don’t know if I misspelled or something, so let me know if I did something wrong!

Warnings: swearing, mental hospital.

October, 1963

“Diego? Five? Anyone?” You yelled on the dark alley, unaware that your boyfriend had been there a few weeks before.

You strolled around the block and found a rude old man who informed you of how bold your clothes were “even for this crazy 60′s” he had exclaimed and you had felt the urge to kick him in the face. Great, thanks Five.

You had no idea what to do next but one thing was certain: you needed to find Diego.

December, 2018

You struggled with the keys as you tried to close the dojo’s door with your gloves on. Winter was at its strongest, which meant you had to wear uncomfortable clothes until you reached home. You hated it, it made you feel a little helpless in case someone attacked you, and just as you were thinking about that scenario, you felt someone coming from behind and you kicked back, right on the crotch area.

“HO-ly shiiiit!” A man exclaimed, and when you turned around you realized it was just the guy who cleaned the gym next door. You two had never talked before, but you sure had seen him walking around. You might have thought he was attractive if not for his way of living, gym’s were no place to live in.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry! I thought you were going to steal from me.” You apologized, covering your face with your hands.

“I was trying to help you!” He gasped for breath

You nearly laughed. He looked adorable with his eyes closed and his nose red from the cold. “I think I could handle that by myself. What was your name again?”

“Diego.” He pushed, recovering from the pain. “And you must be Miss Huiliang.” He extended his hand and you took it with a smile.

“No, I’m just Y/N, Mister Huiliang was my mentor and my friend.”

“Oh I’m sorry.” He frowned.

“Don’t be, he taught me everything he could. How about I buy you a coffee to make up for that?” You gestured towards his lower area.

“How about I buy you a coffee to make up for scaring you?” He gave you a flirtatious smile and you just laughed, heading for the shop.

November, 1963

“Babe...” You whispered towards the small TV in your living room, which you shared with your roommate, a 76 year old woman with severe arthritis.

“That’s your man? The one you talk about everyday?” She laughed out loud. “Then why don’t you go get him sweets? He’s right there on the loony bin!”

“You know what Ruth? You’re absolutely right, I’ll be back by dinner! Keep an eye on my lasagna!” You exclaimed as you ran to your destination.

Once you got there you realized you had no plan, just a third degree black belt and that would have to do the job.

Thankfully, the guards weren’t expecting a sweet girl with an apron to knock them out with two swift chops right on the carotid artery. Now you just had to avoid other people and find your love, easy, right? You checked the cameras and the sight made you sob; he was sedated out of his mind and they had him on a straitjacket. “Motherfuckers.” You whispered to yourself.

You ran inside and found a few unlucky nurses who were knocked out easily as well. It cost you a few minutes but finally you heard him struggling inside a door and knew exactly what to do. You took a bobby pin from your hair and started picking the lock, when the door finally opened you realized he was doing the exact same thing, which immediately brought you to tears as you hugged him, holding him close in case he would fall.

“Did you punch people to get to me?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s my girl.” He praised and you enjoyed that small moment so very much.

That was, until you heard gunshots.

“Come on! I just want one peaceful reunion with my lover!” You cursed the universe before you started running, again.

March, 2019

“Yeah, she’s a twice under 18 champion, no less.” Diego bragged to his brothers with his arm around your shoulders.

“That is pretty cool, how did you end up with a sucker like him then?” Allison asked jokingly.

“I’ve always thought he put me on a love spell with those weird abilities of his.”

“Honey!” He exclaimed in shock.

“What? You thought I just fell for the knives? Oh no baby, that’s just a plus.” You winked at him, making his siblings cringe.

Except for Klaus, of course, who just clapped. “I like this one!”

November, 1963

“I just want you to know that I missed you all very much!” You grunted as you helped lift the weight from Diego’s leg.

“See Diego? You should learn some manners from Y/N.” Answered Luther when you could finally pull him away from the bulldozer.

“Shut up, team zero! Unstoppable!” Diego and Luther awkwardly fist bumped and you smiled at the sight.

Vanya gave you a small nod. “We missed you too.”

“Alright so what’s the deal with Lila? She moves like she’s been doing karate all her life.” You wondered, starting a discussion on her apparent powers.

After hearing voices inside the barn you left the Hargreeves to discuss while you went to actually do something about the newfound information. You stepped in and you saw Lila stepping on Five’s throat.

“Not on my watch, bitch.” You sneaked around until you were right behind her. “Oi! Why don’t you fight someone your size?!” You exclaimed before sending a high kick to her face, which she caught flawlessly, spinning you and throwing you away.

You landed with a loud thud and then everything went black.

April, 2019

“Not this again.” You grunted as you were sucked on a blue void, worsening your headache.

You suddenly were in the entrance of the umbrella academy, together and unharmed. Diego let you down from the bridal position he was carrying you on and embraced you tightly. “You’re alright.”

“I am.” You whispered into the hug. “Now please tell me you didn’t have sex with that mad woman.”

“Don’t worry about that, angel, I’m all yours, always have been and always will be.” He kissed you and you silently promised not to lose him ever again.

[lluvguts]

extra sugar // reddie

pairing: modern! richie tozier / eddie kaspbrak

warnings: none!

word count: 1964

summary:  Richie has been going to the same coffee shop for a week now but the barista still won't get his name right.

Richie’s stomach did a little flip when he opened the cool glass door into the coffee shop. Not because of the menu, showcasing their outrageously priced drinks, but at the young barista behind the counter. Richie couldn’t seem to shake that jittery feeling, he got his coffee from the same place every morning and still that kind face smiling back at him sent a new shiver of want every time.

The first time they’d met was a week before. A Friday, filled with Richie scrambling to get his stand-up act written on time in the early hours in that secluded coffee shop before his theatre class started. Richie had noticed between sips of a sugary mocha latte that the barista was sneaking careful glances at his hunched, furiously typing frame from behind the bakery display case. An older woman had taken Richie’s order before he sat down, but that didn’t stop the younger boy from hiding behind the large glass of pastries so Richie might be led to believe he wasn’t staring. But today, it was him taking Richie’s order, like it had been ever since he’d decided to return for some good coffee over the weekend—and to see those warm brown eyes again.

The barista did a small wave, inviting Richie into the comforting blanket of coffee smells and churning espresso machines that he’d grown to appreciate. Richie’s wallet, however, was not as happy. Each drink was eight dollars or more.

When he’d stepped up to the register his heart did that annoying jumpstart again, almost surprised to see the familiar face. The name Eddie was written with a practiced hand on one of the pins tied to his apron, among other buttons and colorful patches. Of course he knew his name , but he’d never stopped to examine the array of shiny pins across his chest. Richie took note of the newest addition to Eddie’s pin collection: a rainbow pride flag nested under his name tag, its colors glinting bright and well, happily in the golden house light.

“What can I get you?” Eddie’s voice brought him out of his head. He flashed a grin, making Richie’s heart lose it. “The usual?”

“If by ‘usual’ you mean whatever sends me into heart failure the quickest, then yes ,” Riche replied, gaining enough of that on-stage confidence to smirk back, earning a blush from Eddie.

“How about I surprise you?” Eddie turned to the screen in front of him, punching in a few details to the order, giving Richie the perfect amount of time to realize how many freckles spanned across Eddie’s softened features. And maybe even imagine how delicate his fingers would have to be if he’d let his hands brush across those flushed cheeks. Or what else his long fingers could brush over...

Nope. He saved those thoughts for when his classes were over and for nights spent in bed alone, after rehearsing his lines while inhaling microwaved instant ramen. Not right now when he was standing in front of him.

They’d only made small talk at the register, and every time Richie’s hands touched Eddie’s to get his coffee (knowing now was really the only time to say something) his mouth wouldn’t open. He’d remain frozen in place, the only sign of life chugging through his sleepy system being his wide eyes as he read the name on the cup. Or rather, the misspelled name . He had been keeping track of Eddie’s butchered attempts at writing Richie Tozier, finding it to be a constructive use of his free time—and a wonderful reason to flirt back.

Just Rich. Chee. Mr. Toziér. Richi Tozeer.

At that point he wanted to yank the coffee cup from Eddie’s hands and write his own damn name for him. Just to have an excuse to see if his palms were calloused and weathered, or warm and plush like he fantasized them to be.

Richie dug into a pocket of his skinny jeans for his wallet. “Go ahead, surprise me. But extra sugar .” Eddie nodded at this but was still focused on the register.

“Roger that. I’ll bring it to your table,” Eddie said with a wink.

“Thanks Eds,” Richie said back and handed over the money. Eddie lost all of the teasing glint he’d had before, instead he fell into his repertoire of shy little smiles. He was flustered and Richie found it very adorable.

“Oh, it’s just Eddie.”

“I know, I just like seeing that look on your face.”

Eddie stiffened, ignoring the other customers waiting behind Richie. “ What look?”

He chuckled and went over to an empty couch. He plopped down with his backpack while Eddie scooped a shaky cup of coffee beans into a grinder, trying not to blush and look his way.

Richie watched Eddie make his drink, peering down the edge of the counter to see that despite the growing overcast outside he was wearing shorts—ones that hugged his upper thighs and made Richie curse him to the depths of hell for even thinking of wearing them. His mind started to go south so he quickly slipped his backpack over his lap to hide his excitement at the sight of Eddie crouching down to rummage for new coffee syrup in a low cupboard—it was a serious effort to tear his longing gaze away from those painfully visible legs. He got out his phone instead, opening up some mindless puzzle game with a pounding heart so he’d stop thinking about the stupid barista with the cute ass only a few feet away. But that stupid barista was all he could think about ever since he saw him...

A to-go cup was set before him on the little rustic table, followed by a voice. “Mind if I join you? I’m on my break.”

Richie stopped sorting bright, pixelated candies and looked up at Eddie’s hopeful smile and the waft of steam peeking out of the plastic coffee lid. Before he said anything back he turned the coffee cup around until he could see the name scrawled in sharpie.

“‘ Riche Tisher ?’ How are you further off than yesterday?” Richie laughed, then nearly choked. Written after this was a phone number. Eddie’s phone number.

Eddie shifted on his toes, blinking nervously at the floor. “I know your name. I just liked seeing your reaction every time. It was um, kinda cute.”

Richie cleared his throat and hoped his next words didn’t sound too idiotic. “ Oh . Well, thanks, I guess.” Richie made room on the couch then hesitantly lifted his backpack off his jeans to set it on the floor. He kept his eyes level with the table so he wasn’t too tempted to glance down at Eddie’s bare legs dangerously close to his. He screamed at himself to say something other than his default of: a flirty insult or half-heard blubbering, but Eddie pointed to the cup.

Richie almost visibly sighed in relief and reached for his drink. “What‘s in it?”

Eddie smirked. “Surprise, remember? You tell me.”

Richie stared at that shiny rainbow pin on Eddie’s apron as he took a sip, consumed with the sweetness of honey and lavender.

“It’s my favorite thing on our menu. And the least pricey,” Eddie said.

“Well that’s good, cause I’m going to go broke after all these coffees.”

Eddie pondered over this. “You do come here often. Do you live in the area?”

“Actually, I go to the college a few blocks down. But the dorms suck.”

Eddie’s brown eyes livened at that information. “What’s your major?”

“Performing Arts. I wanna do comedy, but for now I’m stuck doing acting.” Richie said and returned that interested stare.

“Yeah, the dorms really do suck.”

Suck was an understatement. Half the time Richie’s roommates only showed up at the crack of dawn, tripping over themselves they were so wasted, to collapse onto—usually—Richie’s available bed and wouldn’t move for the rest of the morning. Even if Richie was still under the covers, fighting to breathe under their immense weight.

“You go there too? How come I never see you?” Richie tried not to sound overly eager.

“I take night classes...So I can still work,” He said with a tentative smile.

His face fell. “Oh. Sorry, I don’t know why I didn’t realize that.”

“You know, to be a great comedian you have to be able to pay attention,” Eddie teased.

Richie had been paying attention, but maybe not to all the right things.

He exposed the side of the coffee cup with Eddie’s number on it. “Well, if I’ve been reading my audience, it looks like someone is trying to get me to call them.”

Eddie let his eyes wander to Richie’s backpack, where he too had a rainbow pride flag pinned to its front. His eyes widened and the color faithfully returned to his cheeks.

If Richie thought he had it bad, Eddie outshone his awkward attempts at conversation in the very attractive, breathless, asking-a-guy-out category. “Yeah, you definitely hit the mark on that one. Maybe, if you want to, of course...We could um, get dinner sometime? If you’re not busy— or if you aren’t seeing anyone! I totally didn’t realize. Well, if you want to?...”

Richie hadn’t really been listening, ironically enough. He was too caught up in that warmth on Eddie’s face, almost able to feel the heat of his embarrassment from across the couch. Eddie sat waiting for a reply, and in place of one Richie leaned forward with a delicate hand, just to let his fingertips touch the curve of Eddie’s jawbone. Only briefly, the slightest feel of his cheek, his racing heart, trailing a finger down to his chin, then hesitantly returning to his lap. Though bold, it was the only way to communicate with his actions what his stammered words had failed to say for the last week. Hey, I think I like you. You’ve got a cute face, too. See how soft it is?

Eddie’s breathing was reduced to a short little stutter in his throat, eyeing Richie’s hand with surprise as it was no longer against his cheek.

“Y-You certainly a put on a good show,” Eddie said when he could use his lungs again, shifting to stare at Richie’s dark eyes. It was like the rest of the coffee shop fell away, and Richie found himself stuck in a scene he didn’t know the lines to, with no stage directions to rely on. There were no wings, no gaping audience—only his own feelings to drive him forward. Only Eddie next to him.

Richie took the empty cup, swirling around the last dregs of honeyed coffee before examining the number so he could type it into his contacts. “This is only the first act, Eds. You could come by my dorm before your classes start? We’ve got pizza. A five star meal, of course.”

He grinned. “It’s Eddie . So is this... play, a comedy or a tragedy?”

Richie pretended to be deep in thought. “I was thinking something along the lines of a romance , but it’s totally your call. We could Romeo and Juliet this bitch and both die in the end.”

Eddie playfully bumped Richie’s shoulder, then glanced at his phone for the time.

“I gotta get back to work, but...dinner? Around seven?”

“Perfect.”

“And, if this is only the first act, ” Eddie toyed with one of the bracelets on Richie’s wrist. For a shy little barista of a man, he sure could flirt. “How many scenes are we talking here?”

Richie gave him a knowing smile. “You’ll have to wait and see. And thanks for the coffee, Eds.”

He frowned at Richie’s expectant grin, fighting the urge to smile through his irritation. “That’s not my name.”

“‘Riche’ isn’t mine either!”

[septicbro1005]

Paint Me How You See Me

A/N: Okay, you have no idea how excited I was to see that I had permission to write this. I literally am so happy I could scream. Will I? Not out loud. This actually made me so excited that I got up and started walking around my room and smiling holy shit. Alright. Enough of that. I was inspired to write this story by a comic made by the fantastic @venadorosas​ and I just am so damn excited to write this! I am not an art student myself, but I will do my best to replicate it with what I know. I hope I do the comic justice! Just a few more things before this thing starts: I'm gonna do myself and make this a Quirkless AU as well as make Yuuei a university instead of a high school. This is unedited, so if there are sentences or misspellings, that is why, and I apologize. Anyway, let's get rolling!

Kirishima's POV

One stroke after the other.

Small, swift.

One stroke makes a world of a difference.

So don't… mess… up.

I only have one canvas left after this one, but I'm saving it for something important. Something special. Just need to figure out what.

I mean, yeah, I have others on back order, and Mr. Miyoshi is usually pretty cool with giving me some, but I still need to think about what to do with the 106 cm by 106 cm canvas.

A canvas that big needs something worth being put on there.

"Psst, Kiri--" "Shhhhhhhhhhhhhut," I hissed out through clenched teeth.

"You nee--" "I said shut,"

"B--" "No. Shut. Lemme finish,"

The person who proceeded to pester me, even after I told him to be quiet, was none other than Hanta Sero.

He was an art student, along with myself and several others I know by name.

One of which was Katsuki Bakugou.

And damn, was he confusing.

He was this aloof dude who talked to maybe two people by his own volition.

Some random girl who I see him talk to ever now and again. I think we've spoken twice? All I remember is she told me to call her Tsu.

And then me.

Sure, he'd talk to the professors and people like that, but if he didn't have to speak, he wouldn't.

Yet, he spoke to me.

Not only did he barely talk to people, but he also is probably one of the best looking people on campus.

I kid you not, the first time I saw this dude, I was totally sure I'd met Adonis in human form.

His ash blond hair was styled into a fluffy undercut that I would pay money for to be able to run my hands through, even once. His gauges and helix piercings gave him a bit of an edge, but that's what made him more alluring. He came into class one day, wearing a wife beater, which put a tattoo on full display, resting on his right shoulder.

It isn't just his looks that are attractive either. The way he holds himself, presents himself, just his whole aura is indescribable, to keep it brief.

And he was the person I was painting this for.

This wasn't his first commission. Not by a long shot. And this one was fairly simple as well. Still, I poured my heart and soul into it, just like every piece.

But with his commissions, I feel the need to work that much harder. To push myself that much farther. To make it perfect, in a word.

Now, I know that perfection is impossible, but I still want to achieve it.

I mean, if Bakugou could, I could too, right?

"Kirishima, I've been talking to you for the past couple of seconds and you haven't shushed me. Don't zone out on me right now, man,"

Sero's voice managed to pull me out of this trance, but only a bit.

The ash blond with the scarlet glare was still in the back of my mind.

"What?"

"You need lunch, man," Sero said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Listen, I thank you for your concern, but I had a protein shake maybe six hours ago. I'm dandy," I mumbled, doing a few more soft strokes before standing up. "Plus, I'm not even hungry," 

"Dunno what kind of protein shake you're drinking, but you still need sustenance. C'mon," Sero attempted to persuade me as I walked to the sink to clean the small brush.

"I'm cool, dude. I have a granola bar or two in my bag. I'll eat when I'm hungry," I chuckled lightly, turning on the water and cleaning the brush.

Sero sighed in defeat, as this marked the second week in a row where I substituted breakfast with a protein drink and lunch with a granola bar.

"Alright, fine. Make sure you eat dinner tonight, or Mr. Miyoshi is gonna kick you out again," Sero said, beginning to walk to the door.

"I know, I know,"

"I'll be off, then,"

"Peace out, dude,"

I heard the door to the studio shut, and it was just me in here.

Just me and the paint.

"Hey, Siri,"

My phone lit up, hearing its name.

"Play Rex Orange County on Spotify,"

As I began to finish up some touches on the snow covered forests surrounding a bright red cardinal, the song Uno filled my ears.

The song had no real relevance, but I love that song so much. I dunno if its just because it sounds so simple and sweet, but I just think the song's pretty great.

I'd say after maybe forty-five minutes of doing seemingly pointless touch-ups, I stood back, admiring my work.

Not much needed to be done, but I needed this to be phenomenal.

"I'll just use a simple varnish once everything is dry, then I can move it into the back," I muttered to myself, as if someone was there and I had to be quiet. "Can I finish it today? I could tell him where it is, and wait for the money to come in, I guess,"

A few seconds pause later, and I continued.

"Wow, great job, Eijirou. You sound like a dickwad who just wants money,"

A short sigh, a granola bar and maybe a half an hour or so later, everything seemed dry.

"Let's varnish this motherfucker, and I'll text him when that's done," I mumbled, going into the cabinets, looking for the varnish.

No other assignments at the moment… okay! Cool! I can probably head back to my dorm, chill there, and text Bakugou when it's done!

When I finally found it, I got to work on the varnish.

***

"And sent," I whispered as I approached the dormitories.

I just sent Bakugou a short text, telling him where to find it, how to send me the money (although he probably knows the process by heart at this point) and all that jazz.

My dorm building was in sight when my phone buzzed once.

It was a different buzzing pattern than all the others.

"Oh, Bakugou responded this quickly?" I thought aloud.

Opening my phone, I checked the message.

Sent the ¥321.7K 

My eyes widened at the number.

"I sure as hell didn't tell him to send me that much, what the hell?"

                                                   What!? The commission was only ¥48.2K?!

His response was immediate.

Left a tip.

Get yourself something nice.

"Whoa," I murmured.

Now, I knew Bakugou was on the higher end of the economic spectrum, but hot damn! 

He did usually give me more money than I told him to, but that fact that he gave me that much more this time just seemed to solidify the thought of him being rich.

So manly.

Heading into my dorm building, I looked to the elevators, only to see an out of order sign on them both.

"Are you kidding me?" I whispered. "Fine, guess I'm just gonna take the damn stairs,"

I got a notification, seeing the ¥321.7K was successfully put into my account, and I knew this commission was over.

But at this point, I knew what to expect from Bakugou. Next time I see him, he's gonna ask me about another one.

Not that I mind, not one damn bit. I'm cool with any excuse to talk to him, and I'm happy to please him with my art.

I just gotta brace myself for the next time I see him.

Trudging up the stairs, I began pondering what he would want next.

He seems to really like requesting animals, mainly birds such as crows and cardinals, but will he do something different? Ooh, maybe a peacock! Or maybe he'd want some other winged creature… like maybe an insect? Or possibly he'll switch it up on me.

As I ended up on the next staircase, I heard someone else's footsteps approaching.

Looking up, my eyes were met with a familiar scarlet pair of eyes.

"Oh, hey, Bakugou!" I said with a wave.

"Hey," he replied with a simple nod.

Fuck, he was just as gorgeous as always.

A grey turtleneck hugged his torso, with a black and white pinstripe button up on over it. The shirt was tucked into a pair of black jeans, a wallet chain dangling on his right side. A pair of black converse and a dog tag finished his look, alongside my composure.

"Thanks again for the great work," he said, his husky voice hypnotizing me further.

"You haven't already picked it up, have you?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. "I don't think I saw you walk past me to get to the parking lot,"

"Nah, but I know it's gonna look good," his compliment was accompanied by a smirk.

Short-lived, yes. But a smirk nonetheless.

"Aw, thanks dude! Always happy to make something for my best customer!" I felt myself beam at him. 

"See you around, Red," he said, continuing down the stairs.

"Bye," I waved with a small smile on my face as he disappeared down the stairs.

I quickly hauled ass up to my floor, speed walked to my door and slammed the keys in.

Gay panic in private, dude.

Opening the door, I pulled my key out and shut the door.

"I'm back, Omi!" I shouted into the apartment to see if my roommate was here.

"Hey," my roommate responded from his bed.

"Is it cool if I hop in the shower real quick?" I asked, jerking a thumb toward the bathroom.

"Sure thing. Keep it brief," Omi said, making me roll my eyes.

"Okay, dad," I sighed, but I gave a smile to show it was all in jest.

After locking myself in the bathroom and stripping myself down to absolutely nothing, I got in the shower and had a gay crisis.

Because that's the only place you can have those, y'know?

But a good ol' Panic! In The Shower was enough to calm my nerves.

As I stepped out of the bathroom to grab clothing, I heard Omi laughing.

"What?"

"That Bakugou guy really messes you up, huh?" his laughter was thrown in between words, but I knew exactly what he was referencing.

"If I'm being too loud, just knock on the door, dude! Tell me to shut it, I don't care," I flushed, looking at the ground, my hand tightening around the towel that hung on my waist.

Omi just kept laughing at me as I grabbed my clothes; a simple crimson riot shirt, boxers, black shorts and my wave socks.

It isn't like I'm going anywhere tonight, right?

…

Is what I originally thought until I was dressed and realized I left my motherfucking cardigan at the studio.

"Ugh, fuck," I groaned, rubbing a towel on my head.

"Left your cardigan again?"

"Perhaps," 

"You might as well just wrap it around your waist," Omi suggested.

"And risk getting paint on it?" I looked at Omi like he was a motherfucking psychopath. "Hell no. The cardigan was my grandmother's, so I ain't doing shit to it,"

"Clearly, if you're leaving it in the studio again," Omi mumbled.

"Shush!" I whined, grabbing my keys and slipping on my red sneakers. "I'll be back,"

"Okay,"

Leaving my dorm, I began going down the stairs when I ran into someone.

It was Bakugou, again.

And just when I thought my gay panic was over for the day.

"Oh, hey," I said as casually as possible.

Which probably sounded forces as fuck, because it felt like my heart was just about ready to implode.

"Red," Bakugou was looking me up and down.

I don't think I've ever felt more self-conscious about my appearance in my life.

"I've got another request, if it isn't too much,"

"O-oh, okay!" 

Why did I stutter?! That was so unmanly!

"So, what is it?"

I looked into his gorgeous eyes, trying to see further into him, but I was only met with his right hand slamming into the wall next to my head.

Oh shit, oh fuck. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna collapse, right here. Right now. I can't handle this.

"Uh, dude? You--" "Paint me how you see me, Kirishima,"

Uh, what?

I was stuck between saying "Got it," and "What?" so my dumbass just responded with this:

"Gweh?"

We sat there, in silence, staring at each other.

My face was flushing bright red, and I wanted to look away, but I didn't. I couldn't. His eyes just drew me in.

He moved his arm to his side, and began to head up the stairs.

Quick, say something coherent!

"O-on it!"

I swear, I saw him smile a bit before he was completely gone.

What was I doing again?

***

It's been around three weeks.

It's been three weeks of planning, sketching, and small, swift strokes.

And plenty of panic, but that's irrelevant. There was a bit of disco, so it balances out anyway.

Mr. Miyoshi did end up setting a curfew on me, to make sure I didn't pass out at the studio, but it wasn't set until it had already happened.

But, since I wanted to work on it after the curfew, I brought it to the dorm, keeping it on newspaper and buying the paint I needed.

I had the picture in my mind, which I did my best to replicate without him genuinely modelling for me.

It was a ¾ shot of his shirtless back, with him looking over his right shoulder, giving a perfect view of his side profile. I also made sure I replicated his tattoo to the best of my abilities, and I think it came out okay.

But that isn't all!

Monarch butterflies lined his back, as a fiery looking echo was placed slightly to the left. 

Those warm colors contrasted like hell, compared to the blues and navy of the background.

Just to fuck around with more color, flecks of brighter colors adorned the background, giving it sort of galaxy look.

I thought it looked gorgeous.

And not just because it's Bakugou.

You know how when you make something, and you worked so damn hard on it, and when it's done, you're just filled with pride?

This is one of those works for me.

"Omi!" I yelled about before cringing.

It's 01:35.

"Yeah?" 

Why the fuck does he sound like he's been awake?

"First of all, have you been awake this whole time? Second of all, could you grab me my phone?" I said a little quieter.

"It's done?" Omi asked, coming over with my phone.

"I'm happy with it," I said with a huge grin.

"Looks fantastic," Omi pat my shoulder before walking off.

Using my nose, I unlocked my phone and took a picture before putting my phone down.

I just looked at the painting, with Bakugou's slight pout catching my eyes.

I have absolutely zero clue what came over me, but I lifted my forefinger to my mouth, and pressed a small peck to it.

My forefinger rested against the painting's lips, and I just felt warm.

And that was probably the best feeling ever.

I gotta give this to him in person. It's about time I told him.

***

What floor are you on again?

                                                                                    Number two. Room 204.

Okay, I'm coming over.

I let out a shuddery breath, looking at the canvas, which I covered with a blanket.

I need to tell him.

It's time.

I kept opening my phone, making sure I had the song ready to play at the click of a button.

He needs to know.

A loud knock landed on my door, and I jumped.

I walked over to the door, playing the song as I opened it.

"Hey, Bakugou! Come in!"

The ash blond entered, wearing a button up and jeans again, just no turtleneck this time.

"So, I wanted to give this one to you in person… because I…" I was stumbling over my words.

Calm down, Eijirou. You got this.

"Because this could very well be the last commission you want from me,"

This made Bakugou's usual deadpan change ever so slightly. His left brow rose up as his head tilted to the side.

"And why might that be?"

"I…"

Fucking say it.

Spit it out.

"I like you," I barely got out before throwing my gaze at the ground. "I like you a lot. You're just so cool and collected, and from what I know about you, I like it. And I want to know more. I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but I just had to get that out," 

Before I even looked at him, I walked over to the painting, still looking at the ground, and pulled the blanket off.

Everything was silent, except for the music in the background. But even the song was at a quieter part than the rest of it.

I felt Bakugou's eyes on me and not the painting, which terrified me to no end.

Should I have even said anything?

"You don't have to pay if you don't want to or if you don't like it. And…" I took in a shaky breath, looking at the ground, lazily gesturing to the painting and then myself. "If you don't want to be friends anymore, if you even thought of us as friends, then you can ignore me,"

His footsteps were soft, but I knew they were coming. So when his black converse appeared in my vision, I looked off to the side as my vision blurred with tears that threatened to spill. 

A finger went under my chin, turning my face to him.

His eyes met mine, and he was smiling.

"You really are oblivious, huh?"

"Gweh?"

Fucking, again?

Bakugou laughed before leaning in a bit, his head turning to the left.

"Can I kiss you as a tip?"

My whole brain has short-circuited, but I turned my head to the right and leaned in closer.

My eyes slowly closed, and when his lips met mine, I was immediately thrown into a state of euphoria.

Holy shit, this is happening.

This is actually happening!

I couldn't help the smile that bloomed on my face as I draped my arms over his shoulders, and I couldn't stop laughing either.

It was so fucking amazing.

Small blazes of tears made tracks down my cheeks, but I didn't care. Unless my nose starts running, I'm not gonna let some tears mess up this kiss.

But, all good things must come to an end, as Bakugou pulled back.

His eyes were on mine, and for once, they were soft. A small grin was pasted on his features, his hands on my face.

"Why are you crying?" he asked as his thumb rubbed at my dampened cheek.

I just felt myself giggle in response. 

"Well, I was originally gonna cry because I thought you wouldn't be cool with my confession, but these tears quickly turned sweet," I just couldn't stop laughing. "Shit, I'm so happy,"

We just stood there for a few moments of content silence before Bakugou spoke up.

"So, how the hell am I supposed to bring this painting to my dorm?" 

"I can help you bring it up there!" I offered.

"I get to bring two masterpieces to my dorm? Great!" Bakugou oozed confidence as he said that.

"Dear christ," I began giggling again, since that was unexpected.

We grabbed the painting, and I made sure Bakugou was careful with it, but was also holding it properly.

"Hey, Omi! Could you get the door?"

"Sure,"

"Your roommate was here?" Bakugou asked.

"Well, it's his dorm too." I pointed out as Omi got the door for me. "Plus, it isn't like I wasn't so obviously crushing on you,"

"It really wasn't," Omi said, patting my back carefully. "But congratulations to the both of you,"

"Thanks, Omi,"

Bakugou just gave a small murmur to thank Omi.

"Alright, Bakugou, you go through the door first, then we can keep walking," I said, turning us so Bakugou could walk out the door properly.

"Okay,"

After a quick minute of maneuvering, we managed to get the painting up the stairs without damaging it.

"So you're which dorm?"

"302," Bakugou said as we got to his door.

"Coolio!" I grinned.

"Dork," Bakugou snickered at me. "How d'you want this to be put down?"

"We can just rest it against the wall," I said, propping the painting up on the wall.

"Give me a quick sec," Bakugou mumbled, unlocking the door.

He swung the door open and made sure it stayed open. 

"Alright,"

"At this point, I'm gonna follow you. You know where you wanna put this?" I asked him.

"Uhm… I think Misumi wouldn't mind if I placed this on his side of the room until I know exactly where to hang it," Bakugou said as we walked into the room.

***

My paintings were all on the wall. The snow surrounded cardinal, the murder of crows, all of them.

Except one.

The other paintings sort of made a frame, with a 106 cm x 106 cm square in the middle.

"Hey, honey?" I called out.

"What's up, Rourou?" Katsuki asked from the other room.

"Could you grab me the step ladder?"

"Shorty," I heard Katsuki laugh.

"I heard that, Katsu! You aren't as quiet as you think!"

"Says you, of all people!" Katsuki chuckled, coming on with the step ladder.

"Thank you, baby," I said, pecking his cheek.

"Of course. Putting up the last one?" He asked.

"Yep!" I said, grabbing the painting I made all those years back.

The monarch butterflies dotting his spine, his scarlet glare, gorgeous fluffy hair, all of it brought together, and hung up on our wall.

I got off the step ladder, and looked at the paintings. Every single one of them.

A hand snaked around my waist and pulled me in close.

"I love you so much, baby," Katsuki whispered, kissing my forehead.

"I love you too,"

His hand rubbed against my waist, but I could feel one thing that was inconsistent with the feeling of the rest of his hand.

A golden band sat on his left ring finger, practically identical to the one that sat on my left ring finger.

A/N: And that's all! Honestly, I'm very pleased with this, and think this came out well! I hope that those of you who see this like it too! I want to thank @venadorosas for allowing me to write a story based off of their comic and for making such fantastic art. If you like my writing, I'm also on Wattpad, so check me out there, if you're up for it. Same username and profile picture. I do believe that this is it! I apologize for the ending, as it feels a little odd to me, I just don't have any idea how to end it properly. I sincerely hope that I did the comic justice. Love y'all! Stay safe and healthy! - Septic

[clumsyclifford]

some writing prompts from stuff that’s happened to myself or my friends in college

you’re my new roommate and you seem really fun and you suggest that we go exploring across campus…do you know it’s 1am? yes? okay cool let’s do it

we started watching america’s next top model together as a joke but now we’re both super invested

we were both kinda drunk and flirting after this party so i walked you back to your dorm and kissed you but now you won’t talk to me and i’m very confused about these mixed signals

we’re like the only two people who ever talk in class and when we disagree we go all out but when we agree we are an unstoppable force

you talk a lot in this class and the teacher is really chill and you EXUDE BDE you put your feet on the chair in front of you and i’m so intimidated you seem so cool but it turns out you’re actually really friendly

just joined the all-male/all-female acappella group on campus and…wow everyone here is really pretty…i thought you were all straight but it turns out most of you are gay and that’s a lot

i’m your RA and i live next-door to you and listen, it’s not that i don’t like hearing you play guitar, i just don’t like it at two in the morning please i really don’t want to have to keep coming over here asking you to quiet down

two-packs of red bull just appeared on everyone’s doorknob during finals week and i don’t drink red bull but you do and you come knocking asking if you can have mine

you’re making tea in the communal kitchen, i come in for something else and you ask if i want to try some. have we met before? no? …okay, sure, i’ll try some

bonus: holy shit this tea is good please make me some more

we met by chance at school and it turns out we’re from the same city and now we hang out when we go home for breaks

i work at [a dining location] on campus and you are here…with concerning frequency at very late hours. why do you keep needing pizza at 1am

i thought my sleep schedule was bad but you go to bed at 5am and sleep til 5pm how did i suddenly become the responsible roommate

of fucking course i get the dorm right underneath the people who are always banging. also the roommate who keeps weed in our room. i’m not saying i mind but you could have asked

you’ve been flirting with me over snap for like two weeks. when i asked you, you said you weren’t, but trust me, i know flirting when i see it, and you definitely were.

you’re my roommate for orientation and wow we have a lot in common and you’re really cute and oh hey, good news! we’re living on the same floor of the same residence hall

yes i do think you’re cute. no i still will not get high with you

just matched with the entire acappella group’s collective tinder account so i jokingly swiped right and they did too and now i need to figure out who runs this group’s tinder

you’re my best friend’s roommate and i don’t know you super well but we have similar taste in music so we regularly text each other playlists and song recs and it makes me happy

it’s super late and im about to go to bed when you call me crying and in a state of panic and i have to go help you right now what’s wrong babe

how many ways can starbucks misspell my name

this can go any number of ways but i’m fond of “every time they mess up my name i text you the new version of my name and you think i’m funny so i keep doing it”

we’ve been wandering around for like an hour trying to locate a party that’s allegedly happening and we haven’t found it but we did have a lot of fun looking. wanna get pizza and talk about life?

you’re my roommate and you have this great group of friends and you guys do game night like every week and you always invite me but i always say no, thank you you’re so sweet sorry i’m such an introvert

came into the campus dunkin and the place is full but you’re sitting at a table and you invite me to join you even though you’re clearly waiting on someone, wow that’s so nice i love you

it’s your first time getting drunk. you take five shots, say you feel dizzy and kinda weird, then go back to your dorm and immediately fall asleep

bonus: i sit outside on the steps with you for like twenty minutes chatting about nonsense because you seem like you need the fresh air even though it’s drizzling out

we’re in an acting class and we get a scene that’s supposed to end with a passionate kiss. hey, professor? hello? are we supposed to actually kiss, or……???

you’re my roommate’s friend and you recently injured yourself so you’re in a wheelchair and my roommate is supposed to take you to your class this morning but they are still asleep it’s fine i can take you, no problem

we came into the city with the class but stayed after they went back to campus and decided to go to the macys near penn station and holy fuck this macys is so big and scary where is the exit why cant we find the exit they keep saying it’s half an hour to closing and we just want to pay and leave but there is not a single cashier in sight why the fuck is this macys so big

[harrysgoldrush]

and they were roommates {h.s.} i

masterlist

one of the perks of being roommates with harry is that he’s an honest audience.

you’re both writers, with him being the successful musician he is and you being a best-selling romance novelist which works out perfectly for the two of you when writer’s block takes over.

it there’s a chapter or moment you’re unsure of, he’s always eager to help even if he seems busy. you’ve always done the same for him when he can’t find the right word or turn of phrase to carry his latest tune, you’re quick to set aside your laptop to help. 

still, anyone who knows you two knows that you’re the two most competitive people in the world.

every bit of advice comes with its own witty comment.

harry never fails to find your weaker moments, suggesting that the youthful confession of love in chapter four should be shyer and that your main characters should struggle more when nervous to tell the other how they feel.

you’re quick as a whip to point out any misspellings or made-up words, or as he likes to call it ‘harryisms’ and advise a shift of words to make the flow of lyrics fit better when he has too many syllables.

its all good-natured, you’re both stubborn perfectionists in the end and highly supportive of the others.

but that doesn’t stop you from sneaking into his bathroom early in the mornings to bring harry asperin, having learned early on that he has a nasty habit of falling asleep in the bathtub with his typewriter when he needs a late-night change of scenery when struggling with finalizing a song.

its become a habit for harry to get you an espresso every morning in the weeks leading up to a deadline when sleep is chased away by nerves and procrastination. he hates to hear you fell asleep at another meeting with your publisher. 

still, the loving jabs at each other just serve as distractions.

he’ll loudly barge into your room at 2am to tell you your typing is keeping him up late as he slowly picks up the latest printed chapter of your book, tucking into his ridiculously fluffy yellow robe as he tells himself its just a much needed late-night read.

you simply scoff at him, not looking away from your laptop as you tell him you’ll stop as soon as he stops singing so loudly in the morning when he makes breakfast, carefully pausing your harry styles radio on spotify and hoping he couldn’t hear his music blasting through your earbuds.

it’s never been a secret you two admire each other’s work, there isn’t an unsupportive bone in either of your bodies.

and its been that way since the two of you met in a rushed coffee meeting in between business meetings in between work. he needed a ‘flatmate’ and you needed an apartment closer to your publishing house.

a friend of a friend had mentioned you at some point during a fashion show two years ago and harry was happy to reach out and ask to meet.

harry sat hunched over his warm coffee mug, his olive green jacket collar popped up to keep him warm as he watched you carefully sip your pomegranate tea, unbothered by the wind as you sat outside the fairly empty cafe.

his hair was longer back then, being relentlessly pushed into his cheery face with every gust of wind until you had graciously offered him a dark yellow hair tie. the two of you had instantly begun chatting like old friends.

“it’s freezing out here,” he exclaimed, his teeth chattering and his eyes wide as he held his mug close under his chin, ducking down to feel the steam on his face. after another particularly strong gust of wind, harry set his mug down and reached down to zip up his jacket. his brows furrowed and his face grew comically annoyed, making you stifle a laugh, before he shifted back in his seat and began to tug at the thin material of his white shirt which had somehow gotten caught in the teeth of his zipper. Once he successfully freed his shirt and fully zipped up his jacket, he smiled widely and grabbed his mug again, squeezing it between his hands.

his nails were a deep blue, his neat manicure both impressed you and caused you to curl your hands up to hide you last minute and very messy attempt to paint you nails red before rushing here to meet him. his ripped jeans and designer boots put your leggings and worn trainers to shame. 

but something in his kind eyes told you it didn’t matter to harry. he had seemed ecstatic to see you, practically leaping onto you once he took in your faded fleetwood mac shirt you definitely stole from your mom before going off to college, crushing you in a surprisingly comforting hug.

“sorry. i guess i’m stuck in the habit of sitting outside, i’ve only gone in to order.”

“you don't have to apologize, ‘sides, it has a nice view of the park.”

“exactly. perfect to people watch.”

he had laughed at that, nodding as you casually checked the time on your phone.

“sorry, what time is it?”

“one thirty two.”

“don’t you have that meeting at two?”

“oh,” blinking, it dawned on you that you did indeed have a meeting you were scared shitless for. “it’s okay, i can reschedule.”

“no, no its fine. we can wrap this up.” finishing up his coffee, he set his mug down and rubbed his hands together quickly. “jeremy hatcher said you were still looking for a flatmate in the city. my flat is far too big for just me and it’d be nice to not come home to an empty house; i haven’t been adjusting well to living alone. i don’ t have anything planned for the next few months but normally, i travel for wo--”

“i know who you are, harry,” you laughed. when he looked at you surprised, you added, “the whole world does, your band has been the focus of every tabloid for weeks since you decided to go on hiatus.”

seeing him grimace made you realize that you never wanted to see him frown again. 

“i am so, so sorry that was uncalled for.”

“maybe a bit.”

“you should make plans.”

“what?”

“just because you don’t have a band anymore doesn’t mean you can’t keep doing what you love. i’m sure everyone tells you this but its a blessing in disguise,”  sighing, you rubbed your neck, unsure of why you were opening up so quickly to a practical stranger you wanted to live with. “i got laid off from my last job where i was cowriting mystery novels with eight other writers. i have a draft due in twenty minutes that i’m terrified to deliver because i’ve never published a book that didn’t have my name in tiny print. i’m scared people read my books because of the other seven authors but i’m also happy because this is my work. its what i want to write and if no one reads it, so be it because i know i’ll read it. maybe my parents will too. but i’ll have said what i want to have said.”

harry’s smile from earlier grew tenfold and he quickly stood up, startling you. “You shouldn’t be nervous about that meeting. i think you’ll be fine. and i’ll be happy to read it once you move in.”

“what?” you asked in shock, watching as harry dug through his jacket pockets before awkwardly shoving a hand down the tight pocket of his skinny jeans, pulling out a few crumpled dollars which he set on the table, placing his mug ontop of them to protect them from the breeze. “you hardly know me! you can’t just ask me to live with you after half an hour. i could be a murderer. don’”t ask me to be your roommate yet!”

stepping back, harry chuckled and shrugged, his hands moving up to grab at the drawstrings of his hood. “i’d like to think i know you well. besides, that’s the best part, we can’t rush getting to know each other.”

“you can’t just leave!” you exclaimed as he pulled his hood up and began to walk away.

“yes i can,” harry spun on his heel to take one last glance before frantically tapping at his bare wrist, “and you have a meeting to get to!” 

“harry!”

“i know you’ll do great roommate!”

[halictus-writer]

Welcome to Seattle (Ch. 1 of 5)

Remus had wanted to move to Seattle for most of his twenties, but when it finally happened it was underwhelming. In all his daydreams, real-estate-app-checking, and job-hunting, he always accounted for an extra person by his side. That extra person was always the same man: the one who Remus had been in a romantic relationship with for the last six years, who Remus had built a life with, who Remus knew like the back of his hand, and who had broken up with Remus an hour before Remus’s 26th birthday party.

A month later, Remus unlocked the door to his Seattle studio apartment, began submitting job applications to local newspapers, and finally started writing his novel. His friends were worried about him being alone, but as he assured them in their daily group-texts, Remus was doing fine. He was finally living the life he had envisioned having for himself, the one he would have had if he had never met his now-ex-boyfriend. If he ate a lot of comfort food and often dined alone, then that was just self-care, not some need for pity from the friends he moved away from.

Seattle was a five hour drive from his past life: the town he went to college in and then never left. Five hours was just long enough to keep his ghosts at bay, but also short enough that his friends could visit him for a weekend. James and Lily were like Remus and his ex: they had met in college and ended up staying and building their lives together. The other bonus about Seattle was that Dorcas and her partner Marlene lived just outside the city. Dorcas had been Lily’s freshman year roommate, and they had been close friends ever since. Once James and Lily got together, the four of them–– Remus, James, Dorcas, and Lily–– formed a group chat and texted constantly. The name of the chat switched a few times a week, but it stayed the same as “Seattle? More like sea ADDLED” ever since Remus moved. After Dorcas introduced Marlene to the group on one of James and Lily’s visits, she was promptly added to the chat.

***

Remus was catching up on the group texts as he sat alone in a booth of the Italian restaurant around the corner from his apartment. He smiled as he read James’s increasingly-frantic texts beginning fifteen minutes ago. Apparently, Lily had set up some sort of parental controls in his phone, and the only change she had made was to prevent him from typing and sending any word that contained the letter “E.”

James: H3LP! I can’t type the l3tter 3

Lily: What? I can’t understand you, I think you’re misspelling words

James: The l3tter 3

*Dorcas changed the name of the chat to “The l3tter 3”*

James: Dorcas. Not h3lping. Lily, did you do som3thing to my phon3??

Lily: Have you tried turning it off and back on again?

James: I only f3ll for that the first 3 times, Lily

Marlene: Do you mean the first three times, or the first E times?

Having finally caught up, Remus joined in.

Remus: James, I think you just need to give up and adjust your vocab to only include words without the letter 3.

James: Stop calling it the l3tter 3, it’s the l3tter 3 and you know that

Dorcas: This is too good

R3mus: See? I adapted  

James: W3ll th3n R3mus, l3t’s s33 you g3t by without the l3tter 3

Remus: Without the letter three? That would be tragic

Remus looked up from his phone, still smiling, as the man he presumed to be his waiter approached. Remus’s smile turned to a face of surprise when he looked up at the man’s face. The man was gorgeous. His long black hair was currently braided and tied up into a bun. Remus quickly chastised himself for wondering what it would look like let down before he remembered that he was allowed to think those thoughts again, now that he was unwillingly single.

The waiter’s name tag read “Sirius,” and Remus instantly felt a camaraderie with him for having to get through life with uncommon names. Remus asked for water and a few more minutes to look at the menu, having been distracted by his phone so far. He watched the beautiful waiter walk away, appreciating the fact that his dress shirt was tucked in to tight jeans.

When he returned to his phone, he discovered that Lily, Dorcas, and Marlene were all trying to write sentences without the letter E. So far, Lily was doing the best, but their texts were all punctuated by one or two of James’s “H3LP M3” messages.

Sirius returned with a glass of water and two napkin-wrapped silverware rolls. He placed one in front of Remus, and then held onto the other one somewhat awkwardly.

“Is it just you dining tonight?” He asked.

“Uh. Yep.” Remus answered, hoping his embarrassment hadn’t reached his face yet. He was prone to blush, and his complexion showed it quite visibly.

The waiter seemed almost happy about this–– probably just overcompensating for embarrassing Remus about being alone, Remus thought–– before asking for his order. One margherita pizza ordered later, and Remus got to watch him walk away again.

Remus had been on the hunt for the perfect margherita pizza, and had already tried a few other restaurants in the city. It was Remus’s favorite comfort meal (brownies were considered a comfort dessert). But, since eating an entire pizza for each meal was not “healthy,” Remus had to save the pizza nights for his really bad days.

As he waited for his pizza, he returned to his phone. James had regained the ability to type the letter E, but now they had moved on to voluntarily omitting other letters from their sentences. Marlene and Dorcas were prompting Remus to “blow them away” with his journalist skills, and write a sentence without the letter A. Laughing, he began.

Remus: You think you just did something there, don’t you? Well, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but numerous sentences could be constructed without the use of the first letter of the English lexicon.

*Lily changed the name of the chat to “Remus ruined the joke”*

*James changed the name of the chat to “Remus ruined the joke gin”*

James: gin

James: wit no

*James changed the name of the chat to “Remus ruined the joke 4g4in”*

James: LILY! WHY C4N’T I TYPE THE LETTER 4

*Dorcas changed the name of the chat to “The letter 4”*

***

The pizza was excellent. Remus decided after the second bite that he had found his oasis. Any bad days in the future would end at this very restaurant, with this perfectly crisp crust and perfectly fresh basil. The pizza was so good that he didn’t even care when the hot waiter came back to ask how everything was and he could only nod and grunt in reply, having just taken a huge bite. Sirius merely laughed and left to take another table’s order.

***

When he brought the check, Sirius also brought a small plate carrying a square layered cake.

“Oh, I didn’t order this, I think maybe it’s for a different table?” Remus said, as the cake was placed in front of him.

“It’s for you, actually, uh, on the house.” Sirius answered, smiling a little sheepishly. “It’s tiramisu, our best dessert here.”

The cake did look familiar, and Remus realized that he had walked past a display fridge full of the Italian dessert when he entered the restaurant. “Oh, well, thank you!” Sirius gave him one last quick smile before turning to take drink orders from a family nearby.

The gesture was sweet, Remus decided. He had been eating alone, new to the restaurant, and the waiter (or more likely owner) had told someone to bring him a free dessert, hoping to persuade him to come back, or tell his friends to visit, or something. It was a good business decision, really. No other strings attached.

Little did the owner know (as Remus had now decided the waiter wouldn’t have brought the dessert unprompted), Remus was already planning on coming back. And, unfortunately, while Remus did have a large sweet tooth, he also had an aversion to the texture of wet cake. The flavor of the tiramisu was good, and Remus could see how other people would like it, but he just couldn’t get over the soggy, coffee-soaked cookie consistency.

He managed to eat half of it, and push the other half around the plate to make it look like he had eaten maybe two-thirds. Remus tipped exactly twenty percent, slid out of the booth, and pulled his jacket on.

Seeing him leaving, Sirius smiled at Remus from across the restaurant, and Remus gave a little wave in return. Sirius was just a friendly waiter, Remus decided, and the free tiramisu didn’t mean anything. Happy about finally finding the perfect pizza place, Remus walked outside, into the cool night air.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #310

“i get pretty just to fuck my face up.”

Do you have a clock in your room? No. What book, movie, TV show, or video game have you been wanting to start up? I *want* to read The Testaments by Margaret Atwood, but I care more about reading Wings of Fire, so I probably realistically won't for a long time. I don't read enough for that; Sutherland will surely keep pumping out books in the series so I'll never catch up, haha. As for a movie, I've been interested in seeing Jacob's Ladder for a very long time; it served as a very large influence on the Silent Hill series, and boy, anyone who brings up video games in front of me knows SH is my SHIT. I also just know I'm bound to like it with how essentially legendary it is in the psychological horror genre, which is my favorite. Onto TV show, I'm not certain. Shows don't really interest me. I would like to keep watching A:TLA w/ Sara, but "start up" implies beginning something new, so. Lastly, video games. There are a LOT of games I want to play, but yeah, I have no operational gaming console above a PS2. I'm dyinnnngggggg to play a ton of PS4 remasters (namely the original Spyro the Dragon trilogy and SoTC), but as for a fresh game I've never experienced, Ico, which is from the same producers of Shadow of the Colossus. It's an old game, and Mom's bought it off of Ebay for me twice, but neither disc worked - they froze only minutes into the game. It's hella expensive in new condition though because of its age... so who knows when I'll actually get to play it. Do you put anything else on your grilled cheese sandwiches? Just butter. Have you ever read a book in a different language? I've read some simple fairy tales as well as the play Faust in German courses. Do you want to go to the Harry Potter theme park at Universal? I have no connection with the franchise, but I mean, I'd go if you're paying, haha. If you had a secret room in your house, how would you decorate it? I'm trying to think what kind of room I'd keep a secret... Ha, actually, IF my love of tarantulas expands so largely to having dozens (which I doubt, but I acknowledge the possibility once I get my own place), a room kept on the down low to others just for them would be pretty cool. Imagine someone not knowing they're sharing a house with like, a hundred Ts, haha. As for actual decor, I'm unsure. I'd definitely keep it generally dark for them as nocturnal creatures, maybe with some Halloween decorations, like lots of fake webbing and neon green or orange lights. Man... that sounds dope. What did you get your dad for his last birthday? I couldn't buy him anything, nor did I actually make anything since I didn't know what to create. I just told him happy birthday, of course. Do any of your relatives live in another country? No. Are you claustrophobic? In some spaces, yes. Ever seen Blair Witch? Without spoilers, you know "that part" near the end? Yeah, if you've seen it, you know. That would be a fucking NIGHTMARE for me. Even watching it made me squirm. When grocery shopping, do you usually buy brand names or store brand? With most items anyway, we just get the store brand bc we cheap. Around what time do you usually eat dinner? Generally between 5:30-6:30 nowadays. Do you have any clothing that you get dry cleaned? No. Do you like foods with coconut in it? Eugh, not a coconut fan. I don't hate it as much as I used to, but I still don't like it. Have you ever researched your family history? No, but some past relative researched our family tree. Have you ever had surgery that kept you in the hospital for over a day? No. Do you like carrots more if they’re raw, or cooked? I hate carrots. Did you play with Legos as a kid? Nah, I was more into Lincoln Logs. Which bothers you more… spelling mistakes or bad grammar? It really depends on the severity and simplicity of the spelling or grammar rule. Grammatical misuse of "there/their/they're" stand out very strongly to me, though. Have you ever bought anything off of eBay? Yeah, a good number of things. Is anybody in your family schizophrenic? If so, what is their life like? I have a scizophrenic half-sister that I've never met, so I couldn't tell you. How organized is your mind? How do you know it's organized/disorganized? My mind is running Windows '98 with multiple windows and even more tabs open, all of them not responding. :^) Why do you follow the religion that you do? I don't follow one. My personal religious journey was a train wreck liberating to jump off of. Do you feel superior to others because you're that religion? I don't care if you're atheist, Christian, Buddhist, Islamic, whatever - you are by no means superior to another person in any way just because you believe different things happen once you die. If you do, it's time for some introspection. Are you a blind believer, or do you frequently challenge your own beliefs? Seeing as I went from Catholic to Christian to briefly Neo-Pagan-ish to what I am now, just believing there's some higher power/knowledge and some form of sentience after death, I obviously challenge them. What's the greatest thing about science? Life itself. This universe, this planet, your state of just knowing is a product of science, and that's pretty damn beautiful. Are you emotional or very stolid? I know I'm too emotional. I'm trying to get better about it. Do your siblings look like you? To a degree, but not NEARLY as much as they look like each other. Ashley and Nicole have been mistaken multiple times in their lives and even asked if they're twins. How many states have you lived in? Just this shitty one. How many states have you traveled through/vacationed in? Traveled through, a whole lot. Up and down the east coast. I've stayed in New York, Florida, Ohio, Illinois, South Carolina briefly, and I think possibly Michigan as a baby. Which state was/is your favorite? I don't know. Not NC, haha. You have two weeks alone in any place in the world; where would you go? Alone? Um... I dunno. I'd get lonely through two weeks in absolute isolation. How old were you when you first moved out of your parents' home? I want to say I was 18 when I briefly "moved in" with Jason and our roommates. Did you ever have to move back in? Yeah; the apartment didn't last very long. None of us were ready. How old were you when you thought you were "in love" for the first time? I was in love at 16. I'd fight God literally for eternity to prove that fact. How many exterior doors are in your home? Two, or maybe three, depending on your outlook. We have like this deck in the back with a roof and mesh separating you from the outside, and then you properly go into the yard from the door beyond that. How many cars have you owned? I myself, none. How many email accounts do you have? Ummmm my very first one I misspelled, so I didn't use it long before making a new one with the correct spelling, then later I had no choice but to make a Gmail to use YouTube, and I know I've had at least one email specifically for school. I'm probably forgetting some other oldies I used for small things. What was the last movie you watched alone? The Shining. What (if any) one television program do you watch religiously every day/week? None. What (if any) is your favorite sport? Dance. Scoff at that shit and then try one dance session and tell me it's not one. What is your favorite musical? None. Have you ever seen a live opera production? No. Dressing up for an evening out: Pants or skirt? Pants. I don't show my legs. What do you currently hear right now? I'm listening to Dance With the Dead's "The Man Who Made a Monster." I LOVE the aesthetic of synthwave and rock mixed together, but the only problem I have with this song is that it's very repetitive. Still stuck in my head though, haha. What type of survey do you refuse to take? I'm not into bolding surveys, specifically. Do you like to run? bitch fuck no Do you think you could run the mile in 10 minutes? Zero chance. What was the longest movie you watched? Hm, I don't remember... It's faintly there in my head, I just can't identify it... Have you ever been to a job interview? Well yeah. Who was the last person to call you? My psychiatrist. Now that I'm doing the partial hospitalization program again, he calls once a week. When was the last time you talked to your last ex boyfriend? Uhhh I think around the start of this month? Missed him and felt like chatting for a bit. Is your dog mixed or full? I don't have a dog, buuuut... we're getting one soon! I'm quite sure she's a mutt. What was the last thing you and your mother did together? Rode to the pharmacy to pick up my meds. Do you take good pictures? I like to think so. What is your display picture on myspace/facebook right now? The most recent selfie I took and liked. I'm finally comfortable using makeupless photos as a display picture. :') Not that I like my body by any means, I just don't care enough to feel like I HAVE to wear makeup to be even remotely pretty in the face. As for everywhere else... ahahaha. What is going on outside right now? It's raining. Like it has been for what feels like literally weeks - and it might actually have been. There's been one or two sunny days in a huge streak of just nothing but rain. It's so gross outside by now; we've been under a flood warning for days on end. Who was the last person you kissed? My best friend, but we were dating then. What color looks the best on you? Black. Have you ever bought the wrong size because you were too lazy to check it? Oh, absolutely. I LOATHE trying on clothes. You have to essentially drag me to go do it. I don't have a good reason other than I don't want to, lol. What was the last thing you bought over 5 dollars? I put down the deposit on my tattoo. c: Do you have any mag subscriptions? No. What is something you're not scared of but a lot of people are? Snakes are probably the highest on the list. I adore snakes, all snakes. Would you ever have a threesome? No; I'm strictly monogamous and to me would be cheating even if your partner was in on it. Are you an U.S. citizen? Yep. Do you have any step siblings? I have a stepbrother, yeah, but I don't see him as my brother, honestly. He's a very quiet and reclusive guy I've had almost no conversations with, and they've only ever been short. Do they annoy you? Nah, he's fine. How many times a day do you talk to your mom on the phone? Well, we live together... What did you wear yesterday? The same pjs I'm in now. I'm changing when I take a shower later. The tank top is a Day of the Dead-esque skull pattern, while the pants are mostly navy with skulls and candy can crossbones that say "nice until proven naughty" arching over and beneath them. They were a Christmas gift from my sis and are really soft and comfortable. Really don't care that it's now out of season, I wear them anyway. I do not match colors AT ALL, but again, I don't care. What color straightener do you have? We don't have one; neither Mom or I use one. Do you listen to music really loud or really low? Turn that shit up LOUD. I'll be nearly deaf one day, but... worth it? lol Do you live with anybody other than your siblings and your parents? No. Both my sisters have moved out. I'm still here because I'm just not emotionally or financially equipped to live on my own yet. Who was your last crush? I still like my best friend, but agree with her that right now isn't the time for anything. How many tattoos do you have? Currently only six. :( What is your favorite thing to do? Car rides with Mom while I ride passenger, controlling the music nice and loud with my iPod. It's odd, considering I'm very afraid of being on the road, but it's just such a freeing, wild feeling to blare music and just go, letting your mind wander. How many pets do you own? I only have a cat and a snake right now, but we're getting a dog hopefully very soon, preferably today actually when Mom has to go to the appropriate city for her normal check-up to keep her cancer at bay. Her name is Vanna and sounds so perfect for us. Mom can barely wait. Are you close with your parents? Yes, very, Mom especially. Where do you shop the most for your clothes? Hot Topic or Wal-Mart. I'd really like more stuff from Rebel's Market; they have such a wide range of stuff that just scream my aesthetic. I got my purse from there, and it's fantastic quality and so cool-looking. Have you ever read a whole series of books? Well, one trilogy that I remember: Shiloh. I adored those books and the movies. I got very, very deep into Warriors by Erin Hunter, but then my interest in reading waned, and I'm immensely behind. I don't think I'll pick it up again, but I've thought briefly about it. When you tell someone you love them do you mean it? Yes. Are you going to walk at your graduation or just pick your diploma up? I walked. Do you ever eat anything everybody else thinks is gross? Hm, perhaps. I'd have to think for a while. What did you do for your last birthday? I just ate pizza at home with my one sister that was free that day, Mom, and a family friend, as well as opened presents. What do you plan on doing for your 18th birthday? I don't recall, but I think that may have been when I was in the psych hospital. Or was that my 21st? I don't remember. Do you have to type with good grammer? Yes. I type pretty much exactly how I talk. What is your favorite quote? It's hard to pick one singular favorite. Are you allowed to cuss in front of your parents? Dad could care less, but I try to limit myself with Mom, especially with "fuck." She's not a fan, nor does she like if I just swear too much in front of her. Like she won't yell at me or anything, she just makes it clear she wants me to stop. How long was your last phone conversation? Just a couple minutes. I didn't get the Zoom link to group therapy one day and let the place know. Turns out their email was fucking up. Which one of your friends annoy you? The family friend I mentioned a few questions above has the ability to be incredibly aggravating. I love her, but she has zero issue with inserting herself into everything (and sometimes we just don't want to see her), and she voices incredibly rude opinions literally no one asks for a whoooole lot. She's got a strong tendency to try to take control over every situation. Her being our landlord now makes it harder to speak up, and besides, no one wants to hurt her feelings. Don't be mistaken though, she truly is an incredible person with a heart more caring than probably any person I know. Have you ever lost a close friend to death? No, thank fuck. I mean, I think. I do believe one of my childhood online friends committed suicide because of sexual abuse from her own fucking brother, but I guess I'll never know. She was talking to me one night horribly depressed and scared and then just vanished. Bless her, I loved her. Do you know someone who suffers from addiction? Yes. Do you have a lot of pictures in your room? Tons of posters and artwork, anyway. I currently don't have any photographs, but I got this shadowbox thing for my bday to decorate with pictures of Teddy so I can use it in my "tribute shrine" or whatever for him, and I'd also like to frame the picture of Sara's and my first hug and maybe put it on my bedside table. Do you have Facebook? Yeah, I do. Have you ever found a dog/cat on the side of the road? I myself, no, but a friend's mom did find two poor kittens thrown aside in a fucking plastic bag... Some people are abominable. Knowing how much my family loved cats, she reached out to us, and we took them in and named them Aphrodite and... I can't remember the other's name. She disappeared kinda early. Aphrodite wound up being one of my most beloved cats and was even the mother of a kitten that same family adopted. Delilah is still alive, doing wonderfully, and incredibly loved. <3 Aphrodite, meanwhile, as well as all our other cats at the time, were taken by animal control because our neighbors were tired of them wandering, even though they were too fucking cowardly to confront us first. I've said in many surveys that I am very much against outdoor cats, but I wasn't then because I was uninformed and really didn't understand. I wailed and sobbed and just pure shrieked like a banshee outside when we came home to learn they were taken. I have no clue how any are now, and that's the worst part. Do you go bowling in your town? We are in the middle of a pandemic, lol. Even beforehand though, I rarely went. Last time I did was on a date with Girt. We had fun. Do you have a drive-in theater? No sir. What brand is your favorite shoe? Converse. Is your best friend's mom like your own? They're quite similar, yes. Both are very sweet and caring for others. Do you have anxiety or depression? Try both. What is your favorite fast food restaurant? Sonic. Do you own a pair of brass knuckles? Nah. Have you and your friends ever made up a word? Likely as kids. Do you have any embarrassing baby pictures of yourself? Not that I know of. What is the worst smell in the world? Anyone remember that survey I took mentioning my dog's old tumor? Yeah, that after he spent overnight in a diaper and inevitably peed himself in his old age. And he had a UTI. You probably can't even imagine how fucking vomit-inducing that smell was. Do you dye your hair a lot? No. :/ I really wish. I have so many colors I wanna try. Do you have anybody in your family who rides dirtbikes/fourwheelers? Not really? No one in my family owns one. My younger sister would totally go if you asked her and had one for her to use, though. She's done it plenty before. Have you ever rode a dirtbike/fourwheeler? Yeah, a fourwheeler, and it's really fun! Tell me how you got one of your scars? Hmmm, let's think of a unique one. Ah, my shins, left one especially. When I shave my legs, they get unbelievably itchy, even if I use lotion, and I would scratch my skin absolutely raw so often that I have permanent scars. It's partially why I barely shave my legs anymore. Have you ever had a friend who cut themselves? I know many, sadly. I don't know of any that still do, thankfully. I promise, it never helps. If you ever have the urge, I can't suggest enough running where you want to self-harm under cold water or slap the location (like your wrist) with a rubber band. The latter is especially helpful. It's a similar burning sensation and doesn't leave marks. It would help me refrain sometimes. What is your favorite thing to do in the summer? Swim in a nice, warm pool. Otherwise, become a hermit and wait for the outdoors to not be prepared to melt the flesh off my bones. x_x Do you go tanning or do you lay out? Neither, ugh. As you can guess from above, I hate the sensation of heat on me. What is your favorite skin lotion? I just really like cocoa butter. Smells really good and is perfectly moisturizing. Do you use a lot of hair products? The only hair product I use is shampoo, haha. Do you have a cousin you dislike? No. Well, one is incredibly brainwashed and misled by her psychopath of a father, but I love her nonetheless. We talk now and again because family is important to her. Have you ever heard Theory of a Deadman? Yeah, they're good. What is your comfort food? Absolutely ice cream. Who is your celebrity crush? Mark Fischbach/Markiplier is a perfect human being with the looks of a god and heart of a saint and you cannot convince me otherwise. What’s the song you most wish you had written? "Imagine" by John Lennon is a high contendant, for sure. Definitely something I'd write. Have you ever been stuck by someone very annoying on a plane/bus/etc? I think so at one point or another. Did you get lost at all on your first day of high school? Ha, for sure. Have you ever been interrupted during sex? A bitch knows how to act asleep if she hears a door so much as barely squeak, I'll tell you that much lmaooo. Have you ever been recorded doing stupid things while drunk? No. Has a significant other ever called you by the wrong name? No. Have you ever cooked anything and it turned out horrible? I've barely actually cooked anything in order TO fuck up. Have you ever made a bad first impression on someone’s parents? I can't say with certainty, but I think Jason's mom had her doubts about me at first because she commented on the ripped jeans I wore when I went to his house for the first time. She came to love me like her own though, and I love(d) her. I was actually just thinking about her and how she's doing the other day. What is a food that you always are in the mood to eat? Always? Perhaps sour candy, like Sour Punch Straws in specific. Ever held a newborn animal? Many kittens, yes. Do you make a wish when you blow out your birthday candles? I do, but just for the annual appeal of it. I don't actually believe it will have any effect on what I wished, it's just... normal, ig. What is the last thing you searched for online? Medical coding classes. Having trouble finding any free ones that are actually legit... Is it wicked hard for you to sleep when it's hot in your room? It's borderline impossible. Do you dunk your cookies in milk? Sometimes, and almost always with Oreos. Do medical terms make you uncomfortable? Ha, speaking of medical coding... No, not really. It's unnerving to hear "you have _____," but I understand it can be something so, so minor. Of course, it could be the exact opposite, but. I also actually find it quite interesting to learn the Latin roots of the terms. Are you afraid of failure? Beyond measure. Have you been called a bad influence? Yes, to my former friend's son. Not that that witch of a woman was a great person. I'd love to know how an infant can be negatively affected by receiving nothing but love from his "aunt," also having no concept of understanding about me being unemployed and not very "adult-ish" in general, which I'm sure is what she meant. Normally judgment hits me deep, but that shit I just rolled my eyes at.

[knox-knocks]

Meant to Be

happy birthday @tthomascresswell !!! (this is a day late but i hope you enjoy!!!!) love you lots :)

kaaron coffee shop au

read on ao3

~

Katelyn had nearly finished wiping down the counters and straightening the cups by the register when the door jingled with the arrival of a new customer. The flow of customers in and out of the store had been steady that day, what with it being warm outside, the sun shining cheerily through the wide windows of the coffee shop. College students needed their caffeine fix, whether it was hot outside or not. Katelyn greeted the new customer as he walked up to the counter, the sun behind him lighting his blonde hair like a flame.

“Medium caramel iced coffee with extra caramel,” he said without preamble.

Unfazed by the customer’s lack of niceties – really, she was used to it after working at the shop for three months – Katelyn smiled and grabbed a medium from the stack next to her. “Name?” she asked, uncapping her black sharpie marker she kept tucked in her apron.

“Aaron,” he grunted. Before Katelyn even had time to write out his name, Aaron had his phone out in front of him, his attention elsewhere. Katelyn hitched an eyebrow and jotted down Aron partially to spite him, but mostly because Aaron was a stupid name anyway. (Aaron, she told herself, had no business hogging all the vowels.)

Katelyn sent the cup with the order down the line to Marissa and jabbed the screen with her finger. “That’ll be $3.25.”

Aaron paid with cash and disappeared to the back on the café to wait for his drink. When Marissa called out his name, shooting an amused look towards Katelyn, Katelyn watched from the corner of her eyes. Aaron’s brow scrunched when he read his misspelled name, his eyes flickering from the cup to Katelyn. Katelyn met his confused scowl with a mischievous smile of her own.

~

It didn’t take long for Aaron to become a regular at the coffee shop. He usually came in a couple times a week near the end of her shift – not that Katelyn was keeping track. They established a routine; Aaron would tell her his name and Katelyn would spell it within the new parameter he set each time. It’s spelled with two A’s, he would say. Katelyn would spell it Aran.

The two A’s are in the beginning. Aarin.

There’s supposed to be an O. Araon.

Katelyn was surprised he hadn’t outright told her how to spell his name letter by letter after the “Aaorn” incident, but if the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth was anything to go by, he didn’t seem to mind all that much.

The bell above the door jingled and Katelyn felt her stomach do a little flip. She hadn’t been waiting for Aaron all day, she was simply excited to be done with her shift for the day. It had to be some sort of Pavlovian response.

Marissa leaned over the counter from where she was organizing the display of cookies and scones with a smirk. “It’s your boyfriend,” she teased in a whisper. Katelyn swatted her away with a shush. She felt her face heat up, something Katelyn desperately hoped Aaron wouldn’t notice.

Aaron’s face split into a small smile when he saw Katelyn at the counter. Her stomach did another somersault, twisting all into knots. Katelyn smoothed her hands down her apron, doing her best to hide the redness in her cheeks.

“Hey,” Aaron said. “Just a medium caramel iced coffee.”

“Extra caramel?” Katelyn asked.

“Three pumps.”

“Rough day, huh?”

“Hardly,” Aaron said, eyes shifting to the counter. Did Katelyn imagine the nervous twitch of his hands? “Just could use some courage, is all.”

“Hmm,” Katelyn hummed. She considered the cup in her hands, the felt-marker tip poised about it. Airin, she decided to write. She passed the cup to Jonathon at the coffee machines and looked up to see Aaron watching her. Katelyn smiled again, nervous at the attention. Did Aaron always have that smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose?

“$3.25,” she said. Aaron paid with a five and Katelyn gave him his change, her fingers brushing his in the barest touch. It was ridiculous that such a small touch could make butterflies explode in her stomach.

“Thanks,” Aaron said. Katelyn expected him to retreat to the tables at the back of the café like he usually did, but today he lingered. Katelyn thought perhaps he wanted to order something else and thought about recommending the macadamia nut cookies. They were her favorites, and fresh out of the oven.

“I was wondering,” Aaron began, not meeting Katelyn’s eyes, “if you wanted to get lunch sometime?”

Katelyn grinned. “Not coffee?”

Aaron looked up at her teasing tone and huffed a laugh. “Thought you might be a little sick of it. And I know a place on campus that’s pretty nice.”

“That sounds great. I get out of class at one tomorrow if you’re free then?”

“That works for me. I’ll meet you here?”

Katelyn nodded.

“Cool,” Aaron said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He still had that little smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “See you then.”

Aaron began to walk away, heading for the door. “Aaron wait!” Katelyn called after him. Aaron spun around. “You forgot your drink.”

“Oh.” Aaron cleared his throat. “Right. Thanks.”

Aaron grabbed his coffee and left with an awkward half wave. Katelyn watched the door close behind him, and turned to see Marissa and Jonathon smirking at her. Marissa swooned and Jonathon caught her, both of them laughing as Katelyn brushed past them to hide behind the cookie display.

“Not funny,” Katelyn muttered.

“Pretty funny,” Marissa replied.

~

Aaron was waiting outside the coffee shop when Katelyn arrived. He wore a nice blue t-shirt and jeans, but Katelyn was pleased to see he hadn’t really done anything with his hair. She hadn’t noticed how much she liked the way the blond strands curled softly around his ears. He was leaned up against the window, looking in the opposite direction so he didn’t see Katelyn until she was right next to him.

“Hey.” Aaron straightened when he saw Katelyn’s approach. He was still a couple inches shorter than Katelyn, but Katelyn didn’t mind, she liked being the tall one for once.

“Hey.” Katelyn smiled and bumped his shoulder with her own. “After you.”

They chatted idly on the way to the little sandwich place tucked in the corner of Palmetto’s campus. Katelyn had never been, but she’d seen it every time she passed by on her way to her biology class. Turns out, Aaron had the same biology class, they just sat on opposite sides of the room. Katelyn mentioned being on the cheer team with her coworker, Marissa, and Aaron explained he was a backliner on the Exy team.

Talking to him was amazingly easy. They rarely exchanged words after Aaron ordered and paid for his coffee, and a part of Katelyn was scared the entire lunch date would be stilted and awkward, but Aaron was content to let Katelyn talk, listening intently and adding little comments here and there. It was surprisingly refreshing.

“How haven’t we met sooner?” Katelyn wondered out loud when they were seated in a small booth at the sandwich place. The light spilled out on the table in front of her, making little dappled patterns on the mahogany wood. Aaron, she noticed, looked golden in the lighting. “We share majors and we see each other at every game. We should have run into each other by now.”

Aaron took a considering sip of his water. “Maybe we have and just didn’t realized it.”

“True.” Katelyn dragged her finger through the condensation on the table. “Maybe it’s fate.”

The waitress placed their plates of sandwiches between them. Katelyn moved her cup out of the way and thanked her. Aaron was staring at the line of water on the table that Katelyn had been pushing around. “Fate,” he mused, a curious look on his face.

~

More dates came after that, and more times Aaron came to the coffee shop. Sometimes he stayed after he collected his drink and chatted with Katelyn when it wasn’t busy. On her lunch breaks she would sit at the table where Aaron had scattered his textbooks and homework and tried to see how many jokes it took to get him to crack a smile. Sometimes they went to the library or Katelyn’s dorm room to study for an upcoming test or help each other out with their homework.

Sometimes they snuck behind the back of the café and exchanged quick kisses in between Katelyn’s breaks and Aaron’s study sessions.

It was during one such escapade that Aaron took Katelyn’s hands between his own and asked her to be his girlfriend. Katelyn had never been happier to say yes to anything before in her life. Except for maybe when she accepted her enrollment to Palmetto State University. Maybe.

“Acoelomate,” Katelyn read from the notecard, her head pillowed in Aaron’s lap. Her roommates were out, leaving the dorm room quiet and perfect for studying. It had been months since their first date, and she and Aaron had fallen into a comfortable routine. She was almost lulled to sleep by the rhythm of Aaron’s gentle fingers carding through her hair. She kept herself awake with the thought that the test was next week and they still had fifty notecards to go through. “Aaron.”

“Hmm?” Aaron hummed. Katelyn looked up to find him staring off into space. She wiggled around until she was half-sitting and half-slumped in Aaron’s lap.

“You okay?” she asked. “You’re distracted.”

Aaron ran his thumb over her cheek, her eyebrow, back to her hair. “I’m good.”

Katelyn waited. She often found that waiting for Aaron prompted him to say more. Aaron’s eyes settled on her face. She was relieved to find him relaxed, his face open and warm. “Do you remember when we were talking about fate?” he asked.

Katelyn sat up all the way and turned to face Aaron. He shifted so they were both sitting cross-legged, facing each other on the couch. “On our first date,” she said. “Why?”

“Do you believe in it?” Aaron asked. “Do you think it’s real?”

Katelyn chewed on her lip, her notecards long forgotten. “I think so. Do you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it before, but I’d like to think that it’s real. That it’s what brought us together.”

Katelyn felt a smile pulling at her lips. She slipped her arms around Aaron’s neck and pulled him closer. “Yeah?” she said in the crook of his neck. “You think we’re meant to be?”

“Isn’t that what fate means?” Aaron said. He dragged his hands down Katelyn’s back and maneuvered them so that she was pressed to the soft cushions of the couch underneath her, Aaron holding himself just a couple inches above her. Dapples of light played across his fair skin, lighting the sharp cut of his cheekbones and showcasing the edge of his jaw, the setting sun caressing his features one last time before it dipped below the horizon.

Katelyn placed kisses to the dip of his cheek, the hollow of his throat, and caught his lips and drew him into a deep kiss. Her heart played a drum-beat rhythm in her chest. Closer, it whispered. She splayed her hands across Aaron’s back and pulled him down, down down.

Everything was perfect.

~

Everything was perfect until Aaron didn’t answer his phone for the second day in a row. Katelyn didn’t see him in class, and he didn’t come to the coffee shop, either. She started to get worried when she called Aaron’s phone and it went straight to voicemail for the third time that day.

“Did he say anything?” Jenny asked. Katelyn shook her head, her legs drawn up to her chest and her chin resting on her knees.

“No, everything was fine and then he just – ”

“Dropped off the face of the earth?” Liz supplied. Katelyn frowned.

It was fine a week ago, when their studying was interrupted with kisses and Aaron staying the night. Heat rushed to Katelyn’s cheeks when she thought about it, what they did. She pushed the warm memories away. Totally not helping. Aaron hadn’t said anything about needing space, or about this, that not being what he wanted.

“I guess he seemed a bit distant last time we hung out. But I just assumed he was tired or stressed or something.”

Jenny and Liz exchanged a look. “Do you think he might be seeing someone behind your back?” Jenny said in a conspiratorial whisper.

Katelyn startled. “What? No – ”

“What if he just wanted to get in your pants and now that he has, he decided to dip?” Liz said.

“I don’t think – ”

“What if he’s just not ready for the commitment?” Jenny said, covering her mouth with her hand. Her eyes were wide as saucers.

“Girls!” Katelyn interrupted. “Not helping!”

Jenny and Liz quieted down. Katelyn rubbed at her eyes and shook her head. She felt a migraine coming on, starting in her temples. “Maybe I should just go talk to him.”

Liz and Jenny exchanged another look. Liz was suddenly focused on her nails and Jenny seemed to find something in her hair.

“What?” Katelyn asked.

Liz said, “Well, you don’t want to come off too clingy. You’ll just scare him away even more.”

Has Katelyn scared Aaron away? Katelyn shook her head again. “That doesn’t even make sense. Aaron is my boyfriend, I should be able to talk to him without being scared of being ‘too clingy’.”

Katelyn left them in the living room, with Jenny pursing her lips and Liz shooting her looks.

~

Katelyn checked her phone before she left the dorm. Aaron still hadn’t texted her, but the last message she sent over two hours ago showed that he read it. Katelyn sighed. Something was clearly wrong if Aaron was ignoring her completely. She texted another quick message to tell him she was coming over and stowed her phone away.

The sun had completely set by the time Katelyn made it to Fox Tower. She didn’t have a key fob to let her in, but a couple football players were returning from the gym and held the door open for her. Katelyn thanked them and took the stairs, content to let the football players have the elevator.

She had only been here a couple times before; usually she and Aaron studied at the library or went to Katelyn’s dorm for some alone time. When she knocked on the door, the it swung open to reveal a bored-looking Aaron cloaked in black. His stare was heavy on her, unblinking and unnerving. So not Aaron, then. She’d never met Aaron’s twin brother in person, but Aaron had mentioned him a couple times when she asked about his family.

“Hey, Andrew? I’m Katelyn, Aaron’s – ”

Andrew waved his hand at her to shut up. “I don’t care.”

When Katelyn opened her mouth to respond, nothing came out. She blinked, trying to regroup when Andrew rolled his eyes and opened the door wider. “He’s in the bedroom being all pathetic.”

“Uh,” Katelyn said, still at a loss for words. Andrew sighed in exasperation and checked his phone.

“I’ll be back in two hours. Be gone by then.” With that, Andrew slid past her and closed the door once Katelyn was inside. Katelyn stared at the door. That was so not how she envisioned meeting Aaron’s family.

“Okay then…” Katelyn whispered to herself and ventured into the apartment.

The bedroom door was unlocked when Katelyn tried the handle. Gently, she pushed it open. The room was gloomy with the curtains drawn and the lights off. Katelyn could just make out a lump in the middle of one of the beds.

“I said I don’t want you around, And – ” Aaron said, throwing the blankets off. His face blanked when he saw Katelyn standing in the doorway, the light from the hallway throwing her in stark relief.

“Kate?” he asked weakly. His face was pale and drawn in the low light. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all since Katelyn last saw him.

“Hi,” Katelyn said.

“What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone. I was worried.”

Aaron looked away. His fists clenched in the blanket and Katelyn saw his jaw tighten. His glare would have burned a hole through the mattress if it could. “Aaron, what’s going on?”

Aaron’s expression shuddered. Katelyn just wanted him to look at her. She sat next to himm on the edge of the mattress, careful to keep some space between them. Aaron didn’t react.

“I failed,” he said, after minutes had already passed.

“What?”

“The test we took on Tuesday. I failed it.”

Katelyn frowned. “It was just one test. You’ll do better in the next one.”

Aaron shook his head, his lips pulling back in a sneer. “It’s not just a test. One test turns to two tests, then I’ve failed the course. If I keep failing then I’ll never be a doctor and I’ll be stuck in this stupid fucking cycle.”

“Aaron – ”

“You asked me if I believed in fate and I said I didn’t know,” Aaron said. Katelyn could only see his profile, a thin outline in the darkness.

“You’re not making any sense,” Katelyn said. She reached for Aaron’s arm and Aaron jerked away from her. Despite herself, Katelyn felt tears well up in her eyes. Her throat started to close.

“Maybe fate is real. Maybe it’s not. All I know is that I’m ‘destined’ or whatever-the-fuck to fuck this up like I always do.” Aaron’s voice cracked. It was then that Katelyn realized he had been crying.

“I was just going to mess it all up. With you, with school.” Aaron sniffed and rubbed his cheek with the heel of his hand. “I don’t want to mess it up.”

“So you, what? Decided to ghost me?” Katelyn asked. She kept her voice even, but she could hear the anger, the hurt. Aaron flinched. His chest heaved.

“Better do it now then wait until I screw it all up again.”

“That’s not fair, Aaron.”

“Life’s not fucking fair!” Aaron jumped up from the bed and paced the room. He dragged his hand through his hair, sending the curls into disarray. Katelyn pursed her lips. “If it were fair, I wouldn’t be like this. I wouldn’t – You would – ”

Aaron cut off, his breath drawn and uneven. He stopped pacing and faced the wall, his back turned to Katelyn. His shoulders shook and something in Katelyn broke at the fragility of it all.

“Hey,” Katelyn said, catching Aaron’s hand in her own. She pulled him to her until they met in the middle of the room. He didn’t look at her, instead his eyes flicked to each corner of the room, like he could avoid her forever. “Hey, look at me. Look at me.”

Katelyn placed her hand on Aaron’s cheek and turned his head to her. She waited until Aaron met her eyes. “People make mistakes. That doesn’t mean they don’t deserve to have good things. You’re not going to mess this up, Aaron.”

“It’s not just that.” Aaron’s breath hitched. “I’m messed up. I don’t know how to do this.”

“And you think I do?” Katelyn laughed, but it wasn’t at all funny. “This is new for me too. But we’re supposed to do this together.”

Aaron let out a shuddery breath. “I don’t know why I get like this. Sometimes I just feel all bad, all wrong. It’s like everything’s messed up in my head. I don’t know.”

Katelyn cupped his face and drew gentle circles in his cheek. “I’m here, okay? I don’t need a perfect boyfriend and I don’t want one either, I want you.” Katelyn tilted Aaron’s head up. His brow was furrowed, unsure. “I want you, okay? We’ll figure this out together.”

Finally, finally, Aaron’s arms circled her waist and pulled her into a hesitant hug. Katelyn rested her chin atop Aaron’s head and ran soothing fingers up and down his spine, him tucked up against her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. She kissed his forehead.

“It’s okay,” Katelyn said. Aaron shook his head. “We’ll talk about it later,” she amended and pulled him to the bed.

Aaron scooted to the side until Katelyn could lay down with him on the mattress. It was a tight fit, but neither of them seemed to mind. Katelyn wrapped her arms around him and Aaron fit nicely against her like a puzzle, tucked against her chest. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked, and Katelyn didn’t want anything else.

“I met your brother by the way. He seems like a real charmer.”

Aaron groaned. “Wait ‘til you meet his boyfriend.

~

The door jingled with the arrival of a new customer and Katelyn felt herself smile. Marissa slipped behind her and nudged her in the back with an elbow. “Your boyfriend’s here,” she said as she passed by Katelyn.

Katelyn set down the mug she was polishing and leaned over the counter so Aaron could greet her with a kiss on her cheek. He pushed a paper bag from their favorite sandwich place over the counter. “I brought you lunch,” he said.

“Thanks.” Katelyn slipped the sandwiches under the counter and reminded herself to save an extra chocolate chip cookie to share with Aaron on her break. “How was your session with Betsy?”

Aaron shrugged. “Alright.” Katelyn waited him out.

He sighed. “I think we’re starting to get somewhere.”

“Good,” Katelyn said, and brushed her lips over Aaron’s knuckles. She saw her boss poke his head out from the back room and quickly hid behind the coffee machines. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you on my break, okay?”

“Talk to me now.” Aaron grinned. “I’m a paying customer.”

Katelyn returned his smile. “Caramel iced coffee?”

“Extra caramel.”

Katelyn grabbed a medium cup and uncapped her marker. She glanced at Aaron, a mischievous glint in her eye, to find him watching her with a soft smile. Grinning, she wrote, Airon and passed the cup down the line.

[drabblers]

Three months late

Prompt: Mystique Fandom: Rurouni Kenshin Setting:  Modern AU, Actors. This is part two continuation for the one-shot: “A Comedy of Romance.” The last part was “Goodbyes aren’t always final“. Characters: Kenshin Himura, Kaoru Kamiya, Misao Makimachi  Word count: 3307

<…and if you would like to see more about my interpretation of the character, I would be pleased to do also demos from other scenes. Looking forward to hearing back from you. Respectfully yours, Kamiya Kaoru.>

Kaoru frowned at the email she had written, gnawing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. No, it was as good as it could get, she decided and pressed send. The email left, leaving her to stare at her depressingly empty inbox. Twenty-two applications send, only two replies – and both of them nicely worded versions of “sorry, not interested.”

It sucked to be an actress between jobs, with no good prospects waiting.

True, it was the same for all the starting actors and yes, she knew the industry was extremely competitive. But still, if she just got a chance, a real chance to play a significant role in an action movie… She sighed deeply. Sometimes her dream just felt too distant. Unreachable. Like a mission impossible. But Kenshin had told her that she just had to keep trying and to differentiate herself from her competition the best she could. For example, when she had an option to choose scenes to do a demo for, she should select ones that suited her strengths instead of going for the popular choices.

The thought of Kenshin drove her to check her mailbox’s spam folder, just out of habit. Ads for sunglasses, bags, online shop adds, and nothing else. Just typical.

It had been twelve weeks since the last shooting day party, since that night with Kenshin… since he had left for the Gobi desert. She hadn’t heard anything from him since then. No phone call. No email. No message. Nothing. His shoots for his next movie had supposed to take six to eight weeks, but now… it had been three months. Had she just dreamed that night? Maybe she had been too drunk and just come up with this elaborate make-believe memory and fooled herself into believing that Himura Kenshin had asked her to date him?

Or maybe, there was no self-deceit or mystique to it at all and it was like Misao said, that her co-actor had just made promises to get into her pants and after he had succeeded, he had fucked off to his merry ways and left her reeling.

She shook her head.

No, Kenshin wouldn’t do that. He was not the sleazy type, thank you very much. Which she had tried to explain to Misao as well – but given that her secrecy contract forbid her from mentioning Kenshin’s name until it was officially announced – her explanations had fallen on flat ears.

Kaoru groaned to her hands. She was frustrated and angry at herself, at Misao and most of all – at Kenshin. Why hadn’t he contacted her? It was the Gobi desert, not Mars! They had some form of communication down there, hadn’t they? Even if they didn’t have reliable phone lines or internet, there had to be old-fashioned snail mail or a courier or... something? Surely, If he wanted to, he had to have some way of contacting her?

…If he wanted to.

Gods, that was the one thing the devil on her shoulder kept whispering her. That she had understood the whole dating thing wrong and it was like Misao claimed, that he had just wanted one night’s fun.

No. Nope. She slapped her cheek, as if to drive away the poisonous thought, and rose, heading to her kitchen. Misao should be coming back any minute now and she had promised to cook tonight. Nothing fancy. Just something simple even a kitchen disaster like her could throw on a frying pan and call it dinner.

She lived in a two bedroom apartment in downtown Tokyo with her roommate since University days, Misao Makimachi. It was a useful arrangement for both of them. After all, freelance reporters and actresses shared the same problem: they got paid per project basis.

Kaoru had just gotten the frozen dinner on a pan when out of a sudden, the doorbell rang.

“Wait a minute!” Kaoru yelled, dumping tofu and frozen vegetables on a pan and setting to heat to hot. It should take several minutes to warm up anyways. She huffed, sweeping her hair aside and looked down at her comfortable pajamas. She had not bothered to dress up for the day, after all, it wasn’t like she was going anywhere. Should she change clothes to answer the door? Nah, no need. It was just Misao.

The doorbell rang again.

Kaoru growled. Seriously! Was Misao carrying something large, or just being lazy that she was not using her own keys to open the door?

She pulled the door open, about to say something rude but the words died on her tongue and she blanched in realization…

...and slammed the door shut right in front of his face.

———————————————–

“Oro?” Kenshin blurted, too stunned for more cohere words.

Something slammed against the door with a thud. Her back? Then, her shaky inhale echoed in the silence.

Kenshin lowered his hand and wetted his lips. “Miss Kaoru…?”

“Why didn’t you send a message?” She asked softly. “Even a letter? You had to have some form of communication available, even down there in the middle of nowhere.”

“I… I, ah… Um, one is sorry, that he is.”

“Sorry…?” She asked, taking a pointed pause. “I waited for you. Week, four weeks… twelve weeks and nothing.”

There was hurt in her tone: bewilderment, pain… but also anger. Kenshin squeezed his hands to a tight fist. God dammit! He should have known that man couldn’t keep things professional between them.

He took an inhale, finally gathering himself enough to speak. “This one did send you messages. Every day, in fact. But it seems that they got lost in transit, that they did. This one is sorry, that he is. Miss Kaoru – please, forgive this one.”

Clothes rustled, and something hit the door – her fist? No, her forehead?

He heard her drawn breath. “What happened?” She asked, her voice wavering only a little. “If what you say is true, how can you lose over a  hundred messages?”

“That’s… Um, it’s a long story. A very personal story, that it is.” Kenshin cringed. “But in essence, this one’s interpreter… well, Enishi has a reason for being angry with this one, but this one honestly assumed that he could put his feelings aside and maintain a professional relationship.”

“…your interpreter?”

“Err, yes,” Kenshin said. “This one doesn’t speak Chinese – more than few words, that is – and whenever one does movies with Chinese one needs help with the language.”

The lock twisted, and she opened the door.

He stared at her, drinking in every detail of her. Her hair was in a messy bun, and she was wearing her pajamas and under her eyes, she had dark spots, like she had been trouble sleeping. Yet, despite everything, she looked like home and something in his chest ached. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close and tell her how he had missed her.

“Let me get this straight,” she started, gnawing on her bottom lip. “Your interpreter had a grudge against you? And he took it out by not sending your messages? Did the guy never want to have work in the industry or what?”

“Um, that’s… well, most likely he knew this one wouldn’t rat on him.” Kenshin hazarded, “As this one said, Enishi has a good reason for his anger, that he has. You see, this one, well, one was, but...” He stopped abruptly and looked aside, clearly trying to find the words but failing miserably.

She blinked slowly. “Um…”

Instead of continuing his stammering, Kenshin shook his head and dug into his shoulder bag and pulled out a stack of letters with a huge red stamp with Japanese text for "Return to sender" on them. “This one picked these up at the mail office in China. See the address?”

She took the stack gingerly, turning the unopened stack of letters in her hands. “That’s my name but… what the hell?”

“Enishi did send the letters as this one instructed him to, that he did. He just misspelled the address and when the letters did not reach a proper destination, they were returned to China – and given the distances, this one only found out about this last week, that one did. Note how small the error is?”

“Are you sure it was deliberate?” She asked. “I mean, even to me – it looks like a human error.”

Kenshin exhaled, relieved that she seemed to believe him. “I… Well, could this one come in?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder where a neighbor was peeking from the doorway. “One will tell you, but as it relates to personal history, one would prefer to keep it between the two of us, that he would.”

Miss Kaoru followed his gaze and blanched. “Err, yes – of course.”

She opened the door, wordlessly inviting him in… into an apartment with visible puffs of smoke floating around.

Kenshin stared. “Um-“

Which was, of course, the moment when the fire alarm blared to life, filling the apartment with ear-splitting beeping.

“Oh fuck.” Miss Kaoru said, pressing her hands to her ears. “Wait here!”

And she ran off to where the smoke was coming from.

Too curious to his own good, Kenshin followed her to – kitchen? Miss Kaoru had pushed a frying pan onto the kitchen sink with its contents and all and was staring at the fire alarm fixated to her ceiling like she wanted to smash it to pieces.

No wonder why, like him – she was on the shorter side and the kitchen did not have a convenient a ladder or step-stool. Well, not a stool most people would use to reach high places.

Kenshin grinned and without a second thought, grabbed a chair from next to her small dining table, stepped on its seat, tilted it on two legs and climbed to stand on the backrest, balancing it while reaching to the offending fire alarm.

And there!

Blessed silence.

Miss Kaoru stared up at him, her mouth falling open. “So you really do your own stunts—“

Kenshin covered his mouth with his hand, but couldn’t quite contain his snort in time.

She pouted at him.

And then he really couldn’t help it, but burst into laughter. Gods, her expression! He knew it wasn’t polite – no, it was downright rude but she had an unparalleled ability to make him laugh and forget his worries and stress. It was amazing. Just for that, he would have fallen in love with her…

“Mou! It’s not that funny,” she grumbled. “And get down here before you fall down, break your neck and force me to cart you down to hospital.”

“Sorry,” He straightened and jumped down. “It just seemed to be the fastest way to solve the problem, that it was.”

“I was not complaining.” She grumbled, turning to the offending attempt at dinner.

“Kaoru…”

———————————————————

His voice was soft, gentle when he whispered those syllables. He always said: Miss. He had never called her by her bare name. A shiver raced down her spine and something fluttered at the pit of her belly.

She didn’t turn around. Because if she did… she wasn’t sure what she would do.

Footsteps behind her, and then he stopped, close enough that his breath tingled at her neck. “I… This one missed you.”

She swallowed. “I missed you too.”

He laid his chin on her shoulder, resting his arms around her waist. Not forceful. He was simply there. Warm. Solid. And there. For her. She inhaled deeply, turned around in his embrace and asked, “are we still dating?”

“I… This one…” He frowned. “Aren’t we?” He finally asked. “One means, if you don’t want to…”

“I do!” She hurried to assure him. “I want to. I just, it happened so soon an then I didn’t hear anything from you-“

“One is sorry about that, but there was-“

“I believe you,” Kaoru hurried to interrupt him. “I know you said the whole thing with messages and interpreter spiraled out of your control and I want to know all about it, but before that… I just, are you sure that you want to date? With me?”

He blinked slowly. “Why wouldn’t one want to date with you?”

She looked aside, gnawing on her bottom lip. “It’s, well, you are you and I am…“ She waved her hand, directing his gaze to take note of the apartment’s small kitchen and all signs of student lifestyle style therein. The difference to the standards he was used to had to be obvious. After all, even when discounting the fact that he was a celebrity, he was exceedingly well of man and she… she was just a rookie actress starting in her career with a whole bunch of student loans to pay for.

He took his time studying her apartment from his spot, still holding her in his embrace. Finally, he noted out loud, “It’s homely, that it is. A lot cozier than the apartment this one used to live when he was just starting out, that it is.” He smiled at her, a hint of mischief sparkling in the corner of his eye. “Did you know, this one afforded to purchase a futon only after the Legend of Hitokiri Battousai was published and started breaking the box office records? Before that, one used to sleep curled against the wall.”

“…huh?” Kaoru gaped. “You mean…”

He shrugged. “This one knows very well how difficult it is to start out in this career, that he does.” He drew his arms a little tighter around her and looked at her seriously. “One knows how very proud and self-reliant you are, that one does. But if you ever feel that you could accept introductions or some other assistance one could offer…”

“No!” She yelped. “No, I’m fine. Thanks for offering though.” She mumbled, feeling the heat to rise to her cheeks. Gods, did he think she was asking for help? She wasn’t about to take advantage of him! “I was just…” She paused, and thought through what she had been about to ask which really came down to the question: are you sure that am I good enough for you? And suddenly, she felt very stupid. “It’s nothing”. She mumbled, pressing her face into his shoulder.

The whole time she had known him, Kenshin had been very consistent in his appreciation of her. His glances at her, his constant smiles, the way he always took her questions and concerns seriously and offered any help he could… No, even if she had no idea why he had decided to like her, it was obvious that he did enjoy her company.

“Kaoru…” He hesitated. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” She mumbled. “I just feel stupid, that’s all.”

He huffed fondly, stroking her cheek, wordlessly asking her to look up. “You are amazing.” He smiled. “You are funny, charismatic and if one could, one would never again leave your side.”

That last line! Only he could repeat his character’s line at her like they hadn’t spoken those words to each other in front of cameras and five dozen people three months ago!

She grinned, and replied her part, “Then stay.” And rose on tiptoes to kiss him.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back, drawing her to his embrace like they had never parted. They kissed and kissed each other again…

“Kaoru, you are never gonna believe this, but the neighbor’s old lady said she saw…“ A female voice called out, only to turn to a shriek: “Oh my god.”

A shopping bag dropped to the floor.

Kaoru froze and turned to look at her roommate staring at them. Blushing, Kaoru untangled herself from Kenshin’s embrace and swallowed, “Um… Hi, Misao-chan.”

“Kaoru, you…” Her roommate stared. “That’s…”

Kenshin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Um... Hi, I don’t believe that Miss Kaoru has mentioned me.” He smiled awkwardly, stepped closer to Misao and offered his hand for a handshake, “I am Kaoru’s colleague, Himura Kenshin, that I am. It’s nice to meet you.”

Misao took his hand and shook it. “Uh, Misao. Makimachi. I have heard quite a bit about you.”

“You have?” Kenshin asked, guileless.

“Uh huh.” Misao nodded, her eyes lighting up with unholy glee. “But more importantly, what was with that kiss? Do you kiss all your colleagues like that?”

Kaoru felt like face-palming. “Misao…”

“Hey, hey,” Misao protested. “It’s a valid question! A girl’s gotta know these things.”

Kenshin stiffened. “Uh… No. That’s not the case, that it isn’t.”

“Then, what’s with the kiss?” Misao’s smile had teeth. “Because if you step in Kaoru’s life just when it suits you and end up hurting my friend…”

Kenshin looked at Kaoru, a question in his eyes. Clearly, he wasn’t about to say anything if she wasn’t okay with it.

Kaoru’s heart melted. She smiled, and stepped to his side and wrapped an arm around his waist. “We are dating.” She said to her friend. “It’s a little bit sensitive information, so please could you keep it to yourself?”

Misao blinked. “Okay, if you say so… but, uh, what about the three-month long disappearing act? Weren’t you angry about that?”

Now Kaoru did cover her eyes and groaned into her palm. How often had she talked, ranted and whined about her mysterious colleague that had left of to shoot his film in China during the last three months to Misao? She couldn’t even venture a guess. “Yes I was, but there was a bit of trouble with the interpreter and...” She trailed off, noting how tense Kenshin seemed to be. Hadn’t he said it was private? Given his habit of understating things, it really had to be something he wasn't comfortable at speaking about. She looked at Kenshin and said decisively, “It’s all fine now.”

He shot her a relieved little smile that spoke more than a thousand words.

She had made the right choice then. She exhaled in relief, spun around and grabbed her phone from the kitchen counter. “But before that, perhaps we could order something to eat?”

Misao glanced at the kitchen sink. “Don’t tell me you burned the dinner again.”

“This time it wasn’t my fault!” Kaoru protested, holding out her phone. “Is Chinese fine for everyone?” She froze, realizing the faux pas as soon as she said it. He has just been three months in China. He had to be sick and tired of Chinese after that.

Kenshin grinned sheepishly. “Or perhaps this one could cook?” He volunteered. “You seemed to have planned on having a homemade meal tonight.”

Kaoru’s stare turned to shock.

Even Misao boggled. “You cook…?”

“Sure,” Kenshin quipped back and leaned down to gather the groceries Misao had dropped to the floor.

“Kenshin…” Kaoru hesitated.

“It’s fine.” He smiled at her. “This one enjoys cooking. It’s one of his hobbies even to this day, that it is. Besides, one did interrupt your cooking rather badly, that one did...”

"That's..." Kaoru cringed.

"Please, Miss Kaoru." Kenshin smiled at her. "Let this one do this small thing for you."

What could she say to that? Wordless, Kaoru nodded at him.

In silence, She and Misao settled down to sit around the dinner table and stare the spectacle of international action mega-star, Himura Kenshin unpacking Misao's groceries with quiet efficiency, and them rummaging through their fridge, pantry, and freezer for supplies to cook a dinner for them.

It was quite obvious that he knew what he was doing.

Kaoru gnawed on her bottom lip in silence, and Misao leaned over to whisper to her ear. “Forget everything I said and hold to him for your life. You and him... It's obviously a match made in heaven.”

AN: Happy new year!

[ryqoshay]

I was tagged by @lonelypond : Answer the questions below before tagging a fairly random number followers you want to get to know better.

I’ve never done one of these before, so what the heck, why not. First time for everything, right?

► Nicknames: In real life, mostly childish variations of my name, used by family and long-term friends. Here on the net, I’ve gained “Grandpa Ryqo” on Sukutomo, which I find amusing as all get out, so I’ve just gone with it.

► Gender: Meh…

► Sign: Not sure, honestly. And I’m too lazy to Google it atm. The only time I remember caring about astrological signs was when a friend got me into playing a modded version of Final Fantasy Tactics. Oh, and rolling my eyes at jokes about Nico being a Cancer.

► Height: A bit taller than average here in the U.S… I think? At least that’s been my observation

► Time: 14:07 CST at the time that I began filling this out… as of posting this, 16:55… I may have gotten distracted a few… oh look, another NicoMaki post!

► Birthday: In the third month of the year, probably

► Favorite Band/Artists: µ’s (They have maintained their top position for quite a while and likely will continue to do so for a while yet), Aqours, Hatsune Miku, Pentatonix, The Pillows, Queen, Benny Goodman, IOSYS, The Three Tenors, OK Go, Gorillaz, Peter Hollens, 2Cellos, The Supremes, The Beatles, Weird Al Yankovic, Lindsey Sterling, Johnny Cash, 403 Forbiddena, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, The Ink Spots, Buddy Holly, … how many pages are you willing to read?

► Song Stuck in My Head: Dancing stars on me (Probably because it was the last song that was playing as I pulled into the garage a while ago)

► Last Movie I Watched: … Is it wrong that I honest don’t remember? My former roommate’s family owned a theater, so I used to keep fairly current. But ever since I moved, I’ve kinda fallen out of the loop. I mean, I watched just the musical numbers of several movies; Love Live (as if that should surprise anyone who might read this), Oliver, Sound of Music, Camelot, The King and I, etc, etc, etc, over the past however long, but I couldn’t even tell you which one of those was most recent. And on writing this, I realize I haven’t seen a movie in the theater since TLJ… Geez, almost halfway through the year and I don’t think I’ve watched a single move from start to finish. I should probably look into fixing that soon.

► Last TV Show I Watched: Shooter (Not sure what episode of the second season, as it was simply where my mom and stepdad had left off. Can’t say I’m entirely sold on the show, but it’s free on Netflix so maybe I’ll watch the first episode someday)

► What Do I Post: NicoMaki (Currently just my own fic and reblogs of pics I like. However, I really should start reblogging some of the other amazing fics out there.), YohaRiko (Again, my own fic and the occasional reblog of pics I like), and more NicoMaki.

I’m not big on getting into politics or religion or the like on the net, so while I may occasionally hit the Like button, I pretty much never reblog; though I might someday make a sideblog for such things. Also, since it seems some people like my writing style, perhaps someday I might start posting some of my other, non-LL stuff.

I actually started this blog posting non-LL stuff (or rather, not-immediately-obvious-LL, or only-LL-if-you-squint stuff) and honestly didn’t expect it to go anywhere. (14 posts with a grand total of 1 Like among them) Heck, even my first two posts for HtHaN didn’t even reach double digits in Notes. But here I am, almost two years later, posting away, and loving it.

Oh, did I mention that I post NicoMaki?

► Do I Get Asks: Yes. Which reminds me, I need to respond to the last few… I have a bad habit of checking my Inbox while I am on break at work and not having time to reply right away, and then forgetting about it when I get home because the notification is gone. (Sorry for delays in responses)

► URL Meaning: Despite my obvious bias towards NicoMaki stuff, and some YohaRiko as well, my screenname, Ryqoshay came from elsewhere. When I first started playing video games, I often named my character (or one of my characters) Ricochet, if they were a ranged character, as a joke referencing a favored sound effect from movies. However, as I entered the world of MMO’s, that name was often already taken, so in the case of City of Heroes, I added -chan to the end and gave her some Japanese ancestry. Also, as part of her bio, it became a nickname granted to an energetic girl who was “always bouncing off the walls.”

Then came City of Villains and once again, Ricochet was taken so I decided to take a different route with the character name by intentionally misspelling it. But, as I fancy myself a writer, I couldn’t leave it at that and had to give her an in-universe reason. And as she was a villain, I was more than happy to take a romp down the well-worn “tragic backstory” road. Thus, her parents finally got names, Yuri and Quentin, and were sacrificed to the deities of drama. After the tragedy, Rico augmented the spelling of her existing nickname to include the first letters of their names. Through my time with CoV, Ryqo gained a mercenary guild as every character I created thereafter became a member, with bios that expanded my new lore.

Things ended up taking a turn for the medieval when what was supposed to be a two paragraph bio for a D&D game turned into dozens of pages and the entire guild being translated over to the new genre. Strangely, it wasn’t even Ryqo that I was going to be playing, rather a member of her guild that had been hired out. This is the story I mentioned earlier that I am still considering posting someday, either here or on AO3, maybe both. Also, more recently, Ryqo found herself translated yet again, into a modern, LL-style world, as an aspiring idol. These are what ended up as the first posts I ever made on this blog, as I had been inspired by an idea that came up on my other digital haunt, Sukutomo.

TL;DR version: Ryqoshay is an intentional misspelling of Ricochet and actually has little to do with my current obsession with NicoMaki and Love Live in general, but I like the name and see little reason to change it now.

► Average Hours of Sleep: You’re going to make me do math…? Hrm… 4 hours there… 6 there… 3 for those nights (days, since I work nights)… I, uhm… dunno. I work nights over the week and shift to a different schedule when I want to spend time with my day-dwelling family or friends. I haven’t had a regular sleep schedule probably since high school.

► Nationality: North American mutt with lineages tracing back to all parts of Europe.

Alright, so I’m supposed to tag a few of my own followers... ... when the heck did I get over 300? Uhm... as this is my first time making one of these, I’m going to take the easy route and stick with names I recognize from the notes on my posts. Let’s go with: @nicoismywaifu​, @nocturnal-one8​, @sayowo​, @kurotheyamineko, @cupcakedesuwa and @thelegend31 for now. I tried tagging spiritpandora and westomaki as I look forward to seeing them show up in the notes of my fics, but Tumblr won’t let me for some reason.