#why yes I am turning it in for a final portfolio grade

[alttheloco]

Fool’s Gold book cover!! :D

Read the fic by @tigers1o1 here! I very much recommend it, super good read.

[thesaltyace]

Oh my god.

I was watching a TikTok where this dude was IDing mushrooms and I just realized why my final project in botany was a B.

(just a personal rant, spoiler: it's the fucking autism again)

It's been over a decade since I took that class but I remember being so disappointed by the B because I thought I'd done a pretty good job.

Yes, I am laughing at myself now because a B is a good job, but goddamn it I'm a perfectionist and I wanted the A.

I haven't thought about that B in a long time, but it bothered me at the time because I got As on everything else in that class and the portfolio pulled my final grade down to a B.

It was even more disappointing because I struggled so much to make the portfolio. I had a terrible time making sense of the ID guide, so IDing my plants took me several times longer than my peers.

Following the identification guide is kind of like a choose-your-adventure book. It asks about specific characteristics of the plant, and based on your answer it will send you to a new section to ask about another characteristic. You repeat this process until you've narrowed down the possibilities to the characteristics that match your specific plant, and voila! Plant identified.

It sounds easy, but I had an awful time of it. I'd follow an identification path only to come to a question about characteristics that my plant 100% did not have, indicating I made a wrong turn somewhere. So I'd have to start over and scrutinize every step as I went through the ID guide again, trying figure out where I might have gone wrong.

After a lot of time and effort, I turned in a portfolio that I thought I'd done well. I'd retraced my steps on almost every plant, often more than once, so surely I had finally arrived at the correct answer by the end of it all, right?

I mean, yeah, to earn a B most of my plants had to have been IDed correctly.

But I clearly wasn't accurate with all of them. And it really bothered me because I spent so much time and effort that I couldn't understand how I could have IDed enough of them inaccurately that it brought me down a letter grade.

So anyway, as I said, I'm watching this TikTok with this dude IDing mushrooms. He says something that transports me back to my botany class so fast it gave me whiplash.

He said, "...it has this beautiful blue staining..." and my eyes immediately glazed over as my brain made several connections and spat out a revelation:

I got a B on my botany portfolio because I IDed some of the plants incorrectly. And I had such a hard time IDing my plants because I took the descriptions in the ID guide too literally.

Those TikTok mushrooms with the "beautiful blue staining"? My thought process went a little something like this as my brain made the connection back to my botany portfolio:

WHERE. WHERE IS THE BLUE? THAT IS GRAY. THAT IS FUCKING GRAY.

OH MY GOD IS THIS -- IS THIS WHY I COULDN'T FIGURE OUT WHAT THE FUCK THE ID GUIDE WAS TALKING ABOUT EVERY GODDAMN TIME? NO. NO.

Yes, folks, it's the fucking autism again.

Like, I'm laughing, but oh my fucking god, seriously?

No wonder I struggled so much. I had to ID plants using a written guide with zero photos and only the most basic of illustrations for a few broad concepts, without the ability to ask for clarification or to look at an example photo of the characteristic they were describing.

I had to backtrack or start over so many times because I took every criteria so literally that I kept arriving at the wrong answers.

"It says orange but these are orange with some deep yellow in some places, so that's not a match.

"I see [characteristic] at the base of the plant but not across the whole plant. Hmmm. Must not be right."

"Well it's only a little [characteristic] so that doesn't count."

"Woody stem? It's not exactly like wood, so obviously it's not a woody stem."

I'm also now realizing that my classmates probably used the internet to help identify their plants even though we weren't supposed to because of course they would have, goddamn it

Had I known then what I know now, I bet I would have spent just as much time on the portfolio, but I might have had the context to realize the black-and-white literal thinking was causing me issues in IDing those plants.

The portfolio and the grade of B doesn't matter in the broader picture, but the fact that I can look back and see the autism in those situations that I didn't understand at the time...

[mythrilhusk]

Korosensei Never Dies - Chapter 6

Words - 1967 Ao3 Version Chapter 5 (last) Chapter 7 (Next)

AN: Just wanted to note (although it’s already in tags) that there are no ships in this story. The characters may be affectionate with each other, but it’s all platonic. 

====

Exams are the worst part of school, but the end of the first term approaches fast. Tommy determines he will not fail. Philza has promised to teach them how to fight, and by the ever-loving stars, Tommy wants to show off his mad skillz. 

He's so intent on getting fighting lessons that he's dragged his friends into group study sessions. Wilbur insists on leading said sessions, and somehow the schoolwork gets entwined with role-playing battles with fiercesome monsters. 

"The answer is forty-two!! I pull out a bazooka and blast everything to smithereens!" Tubbo cackles. "Nothing shall stand in the way of world domination." 

"Tubbo," Wilbur sighs for the fortieth time. "That would kill all of your teammates." 

"Do I care?" Tubbo grins innocently. "Less competition, big man!" 

"I lay down and die." Ranboo says drily, leaning against the wall with his arm around Tubbo's shoulders. 

"Not you, Ranboo, you're going to be my puppet queen. Every world-dominating super-villain needs a puppet queen." Tubbo says, quite matter-of-fact.

Tommy scrawls messily on his workbook, determined to complete the next answer first and get a turn. "Ha! Fucking x equals twenty-nine!" He crows. "I shoot my nets at Tubbo and capture him!!" 

"Stand-off." Wilbur says with a grin. "Who wrote Frankenstein?" 

"Some woman with a boring name." Tommy retorts. 

"Anne Rice!" Tubbo cries. 

"Tommy, you got the closer answer. It was Mary Shelley." 

"Alright, I win, and I say 'Hahaha, you fucking imbecile, you are no match for me!' and then I drag them to jail." 

"I completed my worksheet, Wilbur." Eret pipes up. Wilbur takes it, then nods for Eret to complete his bonus action. "I stab Tommy and release Tubbo, saying, 'The world is yours for the taking, but allow me to oversee a portion of it.' and then I kneel and plant my sword in the dust." 

"Oh! Oh!" Tubbo waves his worksheet in the air. "Ranboo, stab him for me!" 

"As you wish." Ranboo sighs with a wicked grin. Eret protests weakly in the background. 

"Ranboo, you need to answer a question correctly, first." Wilbur steeples his fingers. "Or else there will be penalties." 

"I, uh, I think I got this one correct." Ranboo shows his study sheet to Wilbur, who nods curtly. 

"Fine, go ahead." 

Ranboo turns to Eret and says in a dark tone, "You betrayed your friend. I can't trust you, Eret." Then he turns to Wilbur, "I run him through with my dagger." 

"Eret, you're now a ghost." Wilbur shuffles through his game notes. 

"Aw, man. Can I haunt anyone?" 

"Yes."

"I haunt Ranboo to remind him of his crimes." 

"Aw, dang, another voice." Ranboo groans playfully. 

"Whaddya mean, another??" Tubbo cries. "Am I being replaced, Ranboo??" 

"You- you are the voice." Ranboo laughs nervously. "Even when you're dead, I'll still hear you, shouting at me to not kill the bees." 

"You better not. I worked hard to cultivate our apiary." 

"I won't, I won't." 

Tommy finishes his worksheet, ignoring the chatter of the others. "Ha!" He turns it into a paper plane and throws it to Wilbur. "I want twelve actions now!" 

"Okay, Tommy." Wilbur replies with a sly smile. The others protest, but Tommy has Wilbur wrapped around his little finger, so they won't be winning this battle. 

"But! I want to split them up between us, because I'm a fucking nice person who loves women." 

"Go ahead." 

"My first action as King de facto of the world is to declare peace between the Moon and Mars." 

"Wait, wait, you're king?? Eret, you didn't even kill him properly!!" Tubbo throws up his hands. "Ranboo, kill Tommy for me." 

"Hypothetically, what if I didn't?" 

"Ranboo. Are you betraying me??" 

"No, no, I said hypothetically." 

"Then, hypothetically, I would nuke your entire homeland and make you watch as I killed your family before your very eyes." 

"Oh! Oh, no." 

"And then I would torture you to death." 

"Oh, man. That would not be good." 

"So are you going to betray me?" 

"Apparently not." 

"Aw, man. I wanted to torture somebody." Tubbo sighs. 

Ranboo gives Tommy a look that says 'help me'. 

"You both lost your turns for talking too long." Wilbur decides. "Tommy and Eret, you both have an extra turn." 

"I turn corporeal using necromancy, and I use Tubbo's soul as the energy source, draining him of life." Eret says, his cheerful eyes belying his dark tone. 

"No! Ranboo, avenge meeeee!!" Tubbo cries melodramatically to the heavens. 

"Oh no! I'll avenge you!!" 

"I kill Ranboo." Tommy cackles at the horrified look on Ranboo's face. 

"Oh, that's not good." 

"How do you kill him, Tommy?" Wilbur asks. 

"I stab the bastard through the fucking eyes." 

"Oh. Man. That sounds painful." Ranboo winces.

"It is. You're screaming like a fucking bitch." 

"Am I? Oh dang, that's not fun. Am I a ghost now?" 

"Ghostboo." Tubbo laughs. "You're now Ghostboo." 

"You're Toast, you don't get to mock my name." 

Tommy frowns. "What's my ghost name?"

"Ghommy." Ranboo laughs. "Eret is Gheret." 

"Tommy, you think we're ready for the exams?" Wilbur gathers the papers scattered across the floor.  

"Fuck yeah, we are. We'll crush those bastards to dust. We'll get the highest grades of anybody in the entire school!"

++++

"What do you mean, you can't transfer me?? My grades are the worst they've ever been in years!!" Jack cries, stomping his foot on the polished wood floor of the principal's office. 

"I'm sorry, duckie, but I can't let anyone transfer between classes this year." Puffy-- rumored to be a pirate in a past life and therefore always called Captain-- frowns as she flicks through Jack's portfolio. "Why did you want to be transferred, anyway?" 

"No reason." Jack grumbles, then stomps out of the office, slamming the door behind himself. 

"How'd it go?" Niki hops down from one of the pillars. 

"Terribly. Those bastards in 3-E must've told Captain Puffy to not let anyone in. They're probably planning to take over the world now, using Techno as bait!" Jack cries, his eyes burning with furious tears. 

"That's awful!" Niki wails. "What will we do?" 

"What do heroes do to villains? We bomb them." 

"Bomb them?" 

"I don't know how yet." Jack grins, filled with burning rage. "But we'll think of something." 

"I know a man." Niki says decisively. "He'll get us supplies. If they really are planning to end the world, we need to stop them." 

++++

Exams roll around, and 3-E joins the the main school buildings for the tests. Quackity and Sapnap both leap on and hug Karl Jacobs. Tommy strides through the testing auditorium like he owns the place, with Wilbur glaring at everyone and Tubbo whetting his dagger with a placid smile. 

Fundy watches the chaos from the sidelines, chewing on caramel taffy and bubblegum at the same time. He doesn't recognize the quiet boy huddled in a corner and writing. Before he can creep over and look at the boy's words, Eret accosts him. "Hey, man." 

"Oh, hey!" Fundy grins and hugs his friend. "What've you been up to?" 

"Oh, just trying to stop the world from ending and make a profit in the process, you know, the usual." 

"Right, right. What's up with that, anyway? This guy, Technoblade? He must be really hard to kill if nobody's done it yet." 

"We have till the year ends." Eret says gravely. 

"Right. But why hasn't anybody, I don't know, tried to get in on the action?" 

"The government is supposed to be keeping his location a secret." Eret adjusts his sunglasses. 

"Weird." Fundy pops a bubble between his lips. 

"Indeed. I know there must be a weakness. But I'm not sure what it is."

"Maybe it's something like technical immortality! Maybe he can only be killed if he lets it happen!" Fundy theorizes, chewing more intensely. 

Eret grimaces. "Perhaps. Threatening his friend, Philza, directly is out of the question. But perhaps we can get the kill switch from the president." 

"Woah, woah, back up!" Fundy laughs. "There's already a kill switch in his friend and the prezz hasn't thought to use that??" 

"Well, he's a hostage, but- oh." 

"Exactly!! If the prezz actually wanted him dead, all they'd have to do is threaten to kill this Philza dude if Techno doesn't let himself be killed!" Fundy blows another bubble and pops it with his teeth. "Damn, I'm good." 

"That's assuming Technoblade would die if he allowed it. What if he can't?" Eret muses. 

"He has to have some weakness. How was he even created??" 

"I- I don't know." 

"The only way a mutant like that could be created is through Human intervention, aka a laboratory and scientists!!" Fundy claps his hands together excitedly. "But why would scientists create a creature who can destroy the world?? Unless he can't, and this is all just a damn test." 

"Hmm." Eret doesn't sound convinced. 

"So, they're trying to develop immortality, and they're testing it on Technoblade-"

"Why him?" Eret asks. "And if it is a test, why here, with a bunch of students?"

"He got loose before the tests could be finalized, and they're trying to contain him again!" Fundy starts pacing. "He was a terrorist, yeah? I remember him in the news. The Acolyte." 

"Blood for the blood god." Eret reminisces, paling. "That's right." 

"He only ever went after important government figures! But, five years ago, he disappeared, and nobody ever heard from him again. Until now..." Fundy grins wildly. "This is amazing, I can't believe I get front row seats to a conspiracy!" 

"Wait." Eret groans. "He had a partner." 

"Oh! He did?" 

"Technoblade was the Acolyte. But his partner was the Angel. What if that was-" 

"Philza!!" Fundy cries. "Oh god, we have both of the most deadly international terrorists in my school!! Why couldn't I have worn better clothes??" 

"I don't think that should be our main concern." Eret steeples his fingers. "I think we should worry more about what they're planning to do." 

"I'm going to talk to Captain Puffy." Fundy decides. "Come with me?" 

"I'll pass. Good luck." 

"I've got the best luck in the world." Fundy crows and skips off. He glances back once, briefly, only to see Eret watching him with an unreadable expression. 

++++

Tipsy, Schlatt lounges on one of the pristine metal tables. In the background, HBomb sweeps up the shards of a broken whiskey bottle, the remnants of a drunken tantrum. 

"Heyyy." Schlatt greets the mercenary waiting in the doorway. "Come on in." 

"How much do I get paid for my trouble?" The mercenary asks, slouching in a too-large purple hoodie and baggy pants. 

"Fifteen billion, take it or leave it." Schlatt grins. 

"I'll take it. But this is the last time." 

"Sure, honey." 

"How'd you lose him again?" 

"Bitch killed half my fucking scientists." Schlatt shrugs genially, hiding his irritation. "But we've got a neutralizing agent, now." He tosses a capsule to the mercenary, who catches it and inspects it. "Inject that and he'll be as harmless as a two-ton hippo." 

"That's hardly what I'd call harmless." 

"Eh, semantics. He won't be immortal." 

"Hmm." The mercenary pockets the neutralizer. "I'll do it. But you'd better pay me exactly what you promised, or he dies." 

"C'mon, darling, what do you take me for? A scam artist?? Nah, that's not my fucking style. Return him safe and sound, and everything will be just fine." Schlatt lights a cigar, takes a deep drag, then lets it all out in a slow plume. "Do as I say and nobody gets hurt." 

++++

Eret opens his buzzing phone and answers, "Hey." 

"Crocodiles don't cry often." The familiar voice says coldly into their ear. 

"Crocodile tears are worthless." Eret replies. 

Purpled laughs on the other end. "What do you say, partner? Ready to make some dough?" 

Eret grins, baring her teeth. "Always." 

Chapter 7 (Next)

[maisondenachtai]

I Like That (Part 3)

Title: I Like That Pairing: Erik X BlackFemale!Reader Previous Parts: Part 1, Part 2 summary: just uh....hide your purse aight? (author’s note: uh, ...so...um...it’s been a while right? very sorry about that but it’s here now and I already know how i’m ending it so that’s great. ...this part is written in erik’s pov cause that really helped me break the block i had on it. ...I hope you enjoy it. only one more part to go.) He knew he had fucked up. She wouldn’t even look at him and had scooted as close to her door as she possibly could. He mentally cursed himself and his ego. He wasn’t even sure why he had snapped at her so hard. What she said was fundamentally true and she had the right to speak on what she knew first hand, but it must have been the mixture of David, her being so mad at him, and the fact that her blow had hurt that had him acting up.

“Y/n, listen.”

“Erik, I said shut up.” She said looking down at her nails that were done in a french tip, something she had been doing since grade school. He remembered how her mom thought color was too ‘grown’ and that ‘young women should only have French tipped nails’. He remembered laughing at her nails in the car when she held them out for him to see, and then he remembered moaning as those same nails wrapped around him.

“I’m sorry, alright.” He sighed and rubbed his hand down his face.

“You’re always sorry Erik. It never helps anything. You’re a sorry ass nigga. So what?” She finally looked at him fury and sadness in her brown eyes.

He swallowed his anger at her name calling and looked out of the window to calm down, “Listen, I know you fucking hate me, and I don’t blame you. I treated you like shit in high school.”

“No, you treated me worst than shit. You dogged me, Erik. Do you know how it feels to be beaten down by the nigga you thought you were in love with? No you don’t because everybody loved you.” Her voice had raised, he could tell that she didn’t give a shit about the mixed company they were in.

“Y/n.”

“Don’t Y/n me. I’m going to say what I should have been said, Erik. You fucked me in private. Used me like a sex toy and in public I was your verbal punching bag. And you set the tone for everyone else in high school. High school was hell for me.”

“What was I supposed to do about it? I was a kid, Y/n. I really feel like you’re overestimating my influence.”

“You were supposed to stop it, not add on to it.”

“Well I’m sorry. I truly am. I wasn’t perfect back then and I’m not perfect now and all I can do now is apologize.”

She shook her head, wiping under her eyes quickly. “It was so long ago, and I haven’t thought about it in years. I stopped being your victim a long time ago Erik….it’s just this reunion has brought up so many memories.” She took a deep breath and exhaled looking at him again. “I’m sorry too. I’ve been acting like a child.”

“Yes you have.” He joked, laughing when she shot a scowl his way. “I’m kidding. I understand your anger. I really do. It’s not right how I treated you, and if any man treated my daughter like that I’d kill him with my bare hands.”

“Your daughter? You got a child?” She looked surprised.

He smirked, “What if I said I did? What would that mean?”

“That you still haven’t learned to use condoms.” She shook her head, running her hand through her hair. She looked surprised, as if that wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

He smirked to himself.“I’m kidding. No kids yet. …Ain’t found the right woman…” He looked down her seated frame, biting down on his lip as his gaze settled on her hips and the thigh that had poked out of the slit on the dress. “And the woman I want to have my babies don’t want me.”

She was pointedly ignoring his blatant staring, choosing instead to scroll through her phone. “Well maybe you’ll have luck at the reunion. Remember that girl Monica? She’s been asking the facebook group if you were coming.”

He rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat, “Don’t nobody want Monica. Her breath was stank.” She chuckled and the sound warmed his soul.

The best times he could remember in high school was of her and him chilling in his car outside of her house. She would sneak out the window because her mom didn’t allow boys in the house and honestly didn’t like him one bit but she would take the chances of being caught outside with him anyway.

They would sit and listen to the radio, singing along with their favorite songs, and roasting the bad songs. They would sling insults back and forth until they ended up not being able to speak from laughing so hard.                

In tough times, she would be a warm shoulder to lean on, saying nothing that might make him close up when he happened to cry. In reverse, he would be there times when her dad would flake on her again or forget her birthday, or when her mom was just being too restrictive.

It was those times he remembered, even more than the sex they shared, those times where she was his best friend. He missed that.

“Her breath did used to be a little tart.” She spoke back looking at him.

“A little? The girl used to exhale and burn off people’s eyebrows.”

She laughed then, fully, holding onto her stomach. “You’re mean.”

“I’m honest.” He looked out the window. They still had about twenty minutes until they made it to the reunion. “So, where did you meet David?”

She looked at him and shook her head. “Uh uh.”

“Uh uh? What do you mean uh uh?”

“You are not fixin to clown my man, okay? No. I’m not letting it happen.”

“Ain’t nobody about to clown your man. …I mean I didn’t know you liked light skinned men but-

“See you’re already clowning him.”

He shook his head, “No, I was just joking. Seriously, tell me I want to know.”

She rolled her eyes, “Well if you must know, we met at a conference in Arizona.”

“So he’s in business?”

“No, tech actually. He was at the conference networking. At the time he was trying to startup this app, Nozzle. It’s a app that-

“I know about Nozzle.” Erik actually knew Nozzle pretty well seeing as he had invested some money in the startup a while back trying to get his portfolio up.

However, he didn’t remember seeing David’s name in the business plan. “So, he’s still working with Nozzle then?”

“Nah, they ousted him. He had a completely different vision than the other two men and they decided to part ways amicably.  He’s actually working on a festival idea, kind of like a black Coachella but not like Afropunk or anything. That’s why he’s not here right now. He had a meeting to attend with some investors.”

Erik couldn’t help but smirk, “A festival?”

“Don’t even-“

“I bet its going to be lit. …Straight…Fyre.”

“I’m not talking to you anymore.” She looked out of the window folding her arms again.

“Wait, wait. I’m just kidding.” He pulled one of her arms down, so she wouldn’t close up on him again. “Seriously though, he does know a new festival right now, it’s not the move.”

She sighed, “It’s legit though and he has a good plan for it. Nothing too extravagant. I’ve been working it out with him, setting up meetings for him.”

“Setting up meetings for him? You a secretary now?”

“Nah, I’m a good girlfriend. Why shouldn’t I help him if I can?”

Erik looked at her and then shrugged, “I mean, I guess. But…just don’t put none of your money in it.” When she didn’t say anything, he sighed. “How much?”

It was her turn to rub the back of her neck, “Uh…just 50,000 dollars.”

“50,000 dollars?”

“We got a loan, so he could have the capital to start moving stuff and showing investors he wasn’t coming in empty handed.”

“Oh my god, Y/n. The whole reason you get investors is so that you don’t have to get loans like that or at least so you can pay off the damn loan. How much has he paid off.”

“10,000.”

“Oh my godddd.” Erik wanted to die. He wanted to strangle Y/n, in the most loving way, for being so stupid and then he wanted to kill David. “He’s fucking scamming you and probably everyone else he’s talked to. Why did he get ousted from Nozzle?”

“I told you because they had different visions-“

“Nah, that’s what that nigga told you.” He pulled out his phone. “Send me a picture of him.”

“Why?” Erik rolled his eyes and tried hard not to snap at her, “Don’t argue with me right now. Send me a picture.” When she pulled out her phone he sighed.

“This nigga is running your name into the ground and you probably don’t even know it.”

“He’s legit Erik.” The airdrop notification came up on his phone and he accepted it, getting a fairly clear picture of David.

“We’ll see.” He pulled up an app that allowed him to search FBI databases, search engines, wanted ads, and many more places by picture and name.

“What’s his name?”

“David Johnson.” She had moved closer trying to see what he was doing on his phone. “Are you doing a background check on him?”

“Nah, but you should have.” He hit search and the app began trying to match David’s photo and name to anything they could.

“I can’t believe this. You’re so fucking smart, Y/n. You graduated summa cum lade and you’re nearly running that firm you’re at. I can’t believe that you can’t smell a scammer from a mile away.”

“How do you know all of that?”               

                     Before he could answer his phone dinged, he smirked pressing the article that came up. David Johnson was Gregory Malcolm, the man who was caught misappropriating funds from Nozzle. Who was still wanted by authorities in California, New York, and Georgia.

“Is David’s middle name Joanne?” He started looking down at the picture of David being escorted out of a building in handcuffs.

“No…why?”

“Cause your man’s a fucking scammer.”

---------------------------------------------------------

(author’s note: just

and I hope that this part was not a total let down.) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist: @halonahoney @scumyeol @fangirlingbookworm1 @elaindeereads @groovybbyyy  @holy-minseok  @ljstraightnochaser @chefjessypooh @sweet-epiphany85 @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @tiava143

@chaneajoyyy​ @ raysunshine78   fuckmegoodbruhh ghostfacekill-monger  mellifluousbabe  browngirldominion

(i probably didn’t tag half the people that wanted to be tagged. sorry about that!)

[jeon-googi]

Winter Bear

— pairing: Photographer!Taehyung X Artist!Reader

 — genre: Slice of life, Romance

— words: 4k

— rating: SFW

— warnings: none~

— notes: I think this may be my favorite one so far, I kind of just woke up last night and started writing and tbh I’m really happy with the outcome. I hope you all like it as well 

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You hadn’t exactly noticed him at first. You mean, at your small arts college you were well into your third year and could name almost everyone by now. Yet somehow in the corner of the class, one nameless student sat. His hair was shaggy and it covered his eyes and most often his clothes were oversized, making his hands look like small paws as he fiddled with his camera. His camera seemed to be the one thing permanently stuck to his body as you noticed, it never left his hands. In class as the professor would demonstrate, you notice rather than looking with his own eyes, he liked to look through the eyes of the camera lense instead, as if it somehow made more sense to him this way. 

You found all this out from one class period. Soon the professor dismissed the class and you began to slowly pack your belongings, still captivated by the nameless boy. He too quickly packed up his belongings, a canvas tote with some sketch pads and his pencils, and left with his camera in hand. Now you wouldn’t consider yourself a stalker so to say, but he most definitely caught your attention. Leaving the classroom only a few paces behind him, you kept a discreet eye on him, as he floated through the halls of the art building. He liked to stop occasionally, at windows, and peer through the camera. You figured he was taking photos, as he would pull back and glance at the screen, either a slight scowl or a neutral look on his face. You followed for as long as you could, before he reached the large stairs leading to the roof. There was no way you could follow without suspicion so you turned around quickly and left down the hall, unaware of the camera angled back at you, the gleam in the photographer's eye as he captured the way your hair moved in the sunlight. 

Your second day of classes noticing the camera boy went as uneventful as the first one, but today, you learned his name was Taehyung. 

“Taehyung, how does the composition of this painting make you feel the artist's emotions?”

Your ears perked up at the mention of his name as you glanced at him from across the classroom, Taehyung deep in thought as he toyed with the strap of his camera. He seemed to be deep in thought as he stared at his desk, but soon enough his head shot up to look at the board. 

“The composition isn’t what makes you feel the emotion, it resides with the colors.”

Your eyes widened a bit, you weren’t expecting his voice to be so deep. Your teacher nodded in agreement, “Good I am glad you caught on. See class this painting in particular-” 

The rest of the lecture droned on for you, but you couldn’t help but be so curious about Taehyung. You hands absentmindedly sketched down every aspect you watched, the profile of his face, his hands, the hair in his eyes. To be quite honest, you weren’t expecting to feel so inspired. 

‘Maybe it’s a sign…’ you thought, as the class ended and everyone began to pack up their things. The teacher had written on the board the final date for your classes end of the year exhibition, and so far, this boy in class was the only thing striking your creative nerve. Making sure you threw everything into your bag, you mustered up enough courage to quickly make your way over to him. Up close, he still didn’t even acknowledge your presence fixated on his notes in front of him,  until you gently tapped him on the shoulder, shaking him from his daze. 

“Um hey?” You smiled, gripping the strap of your tote bag nervously. He stared at you wide eyed as he nodded a greeting back to you. 

“I know this is a little embarrassing, but I’m Y/n...and I was wondering if for my exhibition, you would model for me?” You asked quickly, your heart pounding in your chest. “You see..I’ve been in quite a rut lately and well, right now your kind of like...my muse?” You explained, trying not to sound like a weirdo. You dug through your bag quickly and pulled out the few pages you had sketched and laid them out on the table before him. “I mostly focus on sketches and charcoal, so I wouldn’t need too much of your time...” 

Taehyung’s eyes carefully scanned over your work, his hands lightly brushing the lines on the page as he recognized them as his own. His eyes went a little wide as he stared back at you. “You really...want to sketch me for your final grade?” He asked, almost in disbelief. You nodded vigorously. “Yes!”

He smiled a bit at your excitement before collecting your sketches and passing them back to you. “Alright, I guess I’ll do it then.” You really couldn't contain your excitement as you thanked him fervently. You both planned to meet after classes on select days of the week, after all, you didn’t want to take up too much of his time since you knew he would also need to prepare for his final project as well. You used an old classroom on the third floor of the art building that never was used anymore, so you made it your own personal studio. You couldn’t lie, you were nervous. After all, it would be your first time alone with Taehyung. As you began to set up your easel and supplies, the door softly creaked open. Taehyung's head appeared through the door, giving you a boxy smile when he saw you. 

“Hey Taehyung!” You smiled, pulling out the last few pieces of your supplies. He entered the room, dressed in a black turtleneck and denim jacket, a small pair of glasses resting gently on his face. He was handsome. That was easy enough, but there was some sort of poeticness to everything he did, from the way he fidgeted with a ring on his finger, or how he fixed his hair. You were utterly captivated by Kim Taehyung. 

“I’ll just have you take a seat, and I’ll start the first round of sketches.” you instructed, pointing him in the direction of the chair. He nodded and sat down quickly, his hands placed in his lap. You tapped your pencil to your lip gently as you examined his position. “You look just a little too...stiff. How about we try this?” You walked over to the chair, motioning him to stand up. Quickly you flipped the chair around, sitting with the back against your chest, resting your head on your arms with your fingers gently dangling. 

“I think this will be most comfortable for you, and I will get the points I want.” You smiled. Taehyung nodded as he mimicked your position on the chair, glancing at you to make sure he got it right. “Perfect.” you smiled and began to sketch. The silence at first was awkward, more so for Taehyung as he had nothing to do except not move. You realized this a little too late into the session and felt bad immediately. 

“So Taehyung...what program are you in right now?” you asked, glancing at him from behind the easel.

“Photography.” he answered simply, moving his eyes so he could look at you a little bit better. You cocked your head as you looked back at your sketch. “If you are in the photography program, why are you in the painting class then?” You asked curiously. “I realized I had never seen you before so I was curious.” you added. He nodded, “Well it’s all relative isn’t it? I like understanding the emotions of painting so I could replicate it in my photography.” You nodded in understanding as you placed your tools down, stretching your arms out. “That does make sense. Maybe you are a genius Kim Taehyung.” you teased as you stood up, grabbing a water for yourself and one for him as well. He gratefully took the drink as he stretched his arms out, groaning from the stiffness of his body. You pulled a chair up next to him and slumped down exhausted. “That should be enough for today. It’s already looking like how I pictured.” You admitted, wiping your hands clean on your jeans. Taehyung smiled politely, “I’m glad I could be of some help to you.” You watched him carefully, excited at the opportunity to see him so close. “What do you think you're going to do for your final project?” You asked, standing up so you could start packing up your belongings. Taehyung gave a shrug, “I started a few different portfolios throughout the year, I’m just not sure which one I will use.” You nodded in understanding. “What do you like to photograph the most then?” Taehyung thought for a moment as he helped clean up. “People probably. I like seeing what others can’t.” You bit back a smile at his remark. “How very philosophical Taehyung.” You grinned as he chuckled sheepishly. “Well why do you like sketching? Specifically me?” He asked with a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes as you took the paper off your easel, rolling it up into your tote. “Don’t flatter yourself, you just happened to be there when my inspiration struck.” Both of you laughed as you finished cleaning and locking up the room behind you. “See you next time!” You smiled as you gave him a wave goodbye. Taehyung nodded his goodbye as he left down the other end of the hall. 

That night you stared at the sketch. 

“It really doesn’t capture enough of...him.” You decided as you examined it closely. Sure, you captured his anatomy to the best of your ability but it didn’t scream Kim Taehyung. You started closely at the fine lines of his hands before you realized what was missing. 

The next session, Taehyung positioned himself in his original spot, but cocked his head as he heard your request. 

“My camera…?” 

You nodded, “The sketch is fine but it’s missing some sort of… Taehyung essence if you will.” You explained. “You always have your camera with you, I think that would help in my sketch.” Taehyung nodded, listening to your explanation. He stood up to go to his bag on the nearby table, rummaging through it until the silver device appeared. Putting himself back into the same position but now, from his hand dangled the camera. You stared transfixed on him, now this was exactly what you were missing. Starting to work you quickly sketched the camera into his hand, relishing in the new soul within your piece. Focused on your work, you didn’t even notice his finger moving until his camera shuttered and flashed. You glanced over at him, a mischievous smile on his face. “My hand slipped.” You rolled your eyes as you continued your work, “So Taehyung, you like to photograph people. Who are your favorite people to photograph?” 

You could see his eyes flit back and forth as he thought of an answer. “My friends. They inspire me a lot.” He admitted as you nodded to encourage him to continue. He started to name off his group, Jimin and Hoseok from the dance program, and Jungkook who was also in photography. Yoongi from music production. Namjoon from political science and Jin from management. “We’ve all been friends since freshman year.. I’m not sure what I would do without them.” His words were so earnest and full of love it made you feel a bit emotional towards these people you never met. “They sound like really great people Taehyung.” You smiled, setting down your charcoal and wiping your hands on your pants. “We can take a break now.” You smiled, walking back over to him. He smiled his thanks as he stretched out from the chair, groaning with pleasure. 

The sunlight shone in from the large window at the front of the classroom, golden dust particles dancing in the air between you two. The sun caressed Taehyung's face gently, casting him in a golden glow. Smiling you glanced away, your heart fluttering gently. “Thanks for taking the time to pose for me. How about we go get some lunch? My treat?” You offered, collecting your bag from off of the floor. Taehyung nodded, “Sounds perfect.” As he collected his own belongings. Leaving the room you both made your way outside onto your school's campus, the trees swaying gently in the spring breeze. You both found out you loved coffee and pastries, loved reading and watching movies, and enjoyed the same music. There was a cafe nearby and you two took some seats on the patio across from each other. Taehyung quickly pulled out his camera and started looking through the lense at the scenery before him. 

“Why do you do that?” You asked, sipping on your coffee. He glanced at you with a raised eyebrow, “Do what?” You motioned to the camera, “You always just look through the lense, you’re not even taking pictures” He glanced at his camera and made an ah sound. “Well you never know when the perfect picture could happen. I like to look around and see if anything looks worth shooting-” He resumed his position of looking through his camera before abruptly turning it to you, quickly capturing a photo. You looked at him bewildered as he glanced at the preview on the screen. “Perfect…” He mumbled with a smile, his eyes glancing up to yours. The blush on your face was immediate as you huffed it off, taking a sip of your coffee. Taehyung grinned as well, not taking his eyes off of you and you quickly changed the subject. 

Before you knew it, it was the end of the semester, only a few more days before your final exhibition. You were so excited to finally be able to relax and take a break but soon you also realized, you only had one more sketch session with Taehyung. Over the course of the last few weeks, the two of you grew close. The air seemed to change between you two during the last few sessions, Taehyung's eyes somehow always finding yours and when you would call him over to see your work, he would lean in close, one hand one the back of your chair and his face close to yours. After sessions you would stare at your work, a twinge of sadness creeping into your mind. 

The last session with Taehyung came quick. You found yourself slowly setting up this time around, your hands lingering on the easel and on the paper before you. You almost didn’t even hear the door open before Taehyung crept in. 

“Are you excited Y/n?” He asked with a smile, taking his seat in the center of the room. You cocked your head before he laughed softly, “It’s our last session, your project will be done soon!” Your smile faltered a bit before you were able to nod your head excited, “I’m ready for a break! How about you? Your portfolio coming along?” You two chatted and discussed while you began your warm up sketch, the daylight casting long shadows throughout the room. Before you knew it, the room was starting to grow dark. 

‘No...no, no, no.’ As quick as it began, your last session with Taehyung had to end. 

“Wow Y/n these are amazing. I can’t wait to see the final project!” He smiled at you, collecting his belongings. You nodded quietly, rolling up the paper into your bag. It was all too much. You didn’t realize how much you enjoyed his company, how quickly he became a constant in your life. You didn't realize a few tears started falling past your lashes, and Taehyung's demeanor changed quickly. Placing his bag on the nearest table he jogged over to you, your head hanging low as you gripped your tote. 

“Y/n, Y/n what's wrong?” He asked concerned, his hand gently reaching for your face, gently lifting your face to his. 

“I-t’s nothing…” You sniffled, trying to wipe your face quickly. Taehyung shook his head, “No what is wrong? You wouldn’t be crying if you were fine.” He said softly, his thumb gently tracing soothing patterns on your cheeks. 

‘How can I tell him?’

‘Does he feel the same way?’

Your eyes glanced towards the floor before putting on a fake smile, “I’ve just grown so used to seeing you, I’m sad I won’t see my friend as often.”

Taehyung watched carefully as he lowered his hands, “Ah...well were still going to be friends. We can see each other soon.” He said with a smile, “But don’t be sad because of that. Let's get going.” 

You couldn’t tell exactly what happened, but Taehyung's demeanor dropped. Mentally punishing yourself for making things awkward you two parted ways in the hall, giving one last wave to each other. It felt as though you were leaving something important behind, but he was right, you could see him anytime, after all he even said you were friends. But that was the issue. In your room, you flopped onto your bed staring at your ceiling.

You didn't want to be friends with him. 

You were in love with Kim Taehyung. 

The day of your final exhibition was here, and you stood in the classroom carefully arranging your sketches on your display. The class was set up in a museum style, allowing everyone to browse around and visit each other's works, you were even allowed to invite people from other classes. You smiled as some friends came over to see your work before you paused, hearing an all to familiar voice. 

“Jungkook bring them in here!”

Taehyung entered the room,  his gray sweater rolled up at the sleeves and a brown coat in his hands. A tall boy entered the room, carrying a large easel.

“Namjoon has the other prints, and Jimin and the others are on their way.” ‘Jungkook’ said, placing the large easel down with ease. 

‘So that’s Jungkook…’ you thought with a smile, watching the two interact like siblings. Your heart sped up as Taehyung caught your eye, saying something quickly to Jungkook and waving your way. Jungkook turned around as well, giving you a friendly nod. You waved back shyly before returning to arranging your sketches. 

Soon the class started, and the chatter and mingling began. A lot of people gave you praise for your work, loving the different poses and points you chose to work on. You smiled as you waved off their praise before a deep voice interrupted your conversations.

“You’re Y/n?”

You looked up, a taller individual looking at you. 

“Yeah I am? You are..?”

“Namjoon.” He smiled looking at your work. “You really drew a lot of great pictures of our Tae.” He said, your eyes widening at his compliment. 

“He was a great model, I’m really lucky he accepted my offer.” Namjoon nodded as he listened to you, “Have you gone to check his portfolio out yet?” he asked. You shook your head, confused. Namjoon smiled as he covered his mouth trying to hold back a laugh. “Well I think you should, he worked really hard and would appreciate your feedback.” You nodded, excusing yourself from the conversation to find Taehyung's table. His booth was laid out neatly, a single binder on the table. In elegant cursive the name of the portfolio was on the front of the book.

Winter Bear.

Turning the first page you smiled, it was indeed full of candid photos of his friends, all in places they seemed to love. Jungkooks photos were of him in nature and with other friends, Hoseoks was on the dance floor,  Jimins at the beach. You were filled with a sense of youth and nostalgia, your eyes watering at the blatant love Taehyung had for his friends. You bit back a smile at a conversation with him that rushed to your mind

 “What do you like to photograph the most then?” Taehyung thought for a moment as he helped clean up. “People probably. I like seeing what others can’t.” 

Turning the last few pages you realized there were a few extra photos at the end, and some of them struck a vaguely familiar. There was a figure sitting in a chair, a hand delicately reaching towards an easel, the face was focused on the art before them. You paused, staring closer at the work. Was that..you? You quickly looked at the other photos and indeed there was no denying it, the last individual in Taehyung's portfolio was you. There was the photo he took of you at the cafe as well as others you didn’t know of. Tons from you in your studio, some from your walks to the cafe, one from the hallway outside of the classroom. You couldn't help your eyes watering as you reached the final page, a simple quote written in the same cursive. 

 All the bad days

They’re nothing to me 

With you

-Taehyung

Quickly looking around you searched for his familiar head of hair. Namjoon seemed to notice you looking and you caught a discreet motion to the hallway outside of the class. Giving him a smile, you ran out of the room looking up and down the hall for Taehyung. 

‘Where could he be?’

You started to panic, unable to think of where he would go to before one idea came to mind. It was worth a shot. Quickly heading up the stairs, you ran to your studio, noticing the door slightly ajar. You paused in front of the door, out of breath, before softly sliding it open.

Taehyung was there. His back against the door, leaning against one of the tables in the room, his hand gently tracing over the easel you had used so many times before. 

“Taehyung…” You called, a look of shock on his face as he glanced up at you. 

“Y/n what are you doing here?” He asked, his brows furrowed in confusion. You made your way to him quickly, causing Taehyung to lean back against the table. 

“I saw your...portfolio.” You said out of breath, looking him in the eyes. He seemed to grow a bit shy as he glanced away from you. 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you... I hope you’re okay with it it’s just..” He started but stopped, his voice growing soft as he fiddled with his fingers. You quickly reached out your own hand, taking his hand in yours. His eyes grew wide as he stared at you, “It’s just what Tae?” you pressed. 

He let out a shaky breath, “I never wanted to be just friends with you. You inspire me, you make me so happy Y/n but I just...I just didn’t know how to tell you.” He answered, squeezing your hand gently. He looked shocked as you sniffled, your eyes watering. 

“You really like me?” you asked.

Taehyung chuckled as he took his hands back, placing them on your cheeks to wipe your tears away. “Very much.” He whispered as he leaned in closer, placing his lips gently against yours. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode as you placed your hands on his, your mouth moving against his. Pulling back you rested your foreheads against each other, basking in the silence of each other. He glanced at you before smiling, “But how did you know I was up here?” You sniffled before laughing as well, “I met Namjoon...he told me.” Taehyung let out a heartfelt laugh, making a mental note to thank him later. Pulling you into his chest, he wrapped his arms around you tightly, placing a kiss on your head. You nuzzled your head deeper into his chest as he smiled, closing his eyes. You two stayed together like this, the sunlight warming your bodies and the golden dust dancing around you two until you left the studio, hand in hand. The door shut gently, putting the room back into a state of slumber. 

You sleep so happily I wish you good night, good night, good night Good night, good night

[drgamenstein]

Why I stopped  Drawing.

So I’m struggling right now to re-learn how to draw. I used to draw all the time when I was in High school, but then a teacher kind of crushed my desire to do anything creative ever again. This is that story.

When I was a Junior (16 years old), I was cleaning up my required credits to graduate, basically just taking the easy classes I didn’t care about, but was needed to graduate. One of these classes was foreign languages, which I needed two semesters of. I chose Spanish since, growing up in the south, high school Spanish is a joke. Chances are high you either know it through friends or learned it at a much younger age, and for the most part I was right. I passed every test, completed all my homework and class assignments during class and was able to fuck around and do what I wanted after that. It was basically a free period.

Thing is, apparently my teacher didn’t like that I was breezing through his class. That or he just hated me in general, probably both. By junior year, I had a reputation for being hard to control. I wasn’t a bad kid, I just didn’t care much. I spent a lot of time keeping to myself, drawing or napping, and still completed all my work. My Biology teacher once made a joke that I learned through osmosis, because even though I slept through his class, I remembered the lessons and passed. I also used this trick in English, I would listen to audiobooks at home when I went to bed and leave it on loop all night, then when I woke up I could remember the book because my dreams were influenced by it. Turns out Dexter’s Lab was spot on in terms of easy learning, I don’t know.

Anyway, this guy was a hard ass, he also worked as the school’s basketball coach, but taught Spanish in the mornings. Now because this was first period, and I had just woken up and was full of coffee, I didn’t sleep in this class, ever. I was actually probably my most attentive during this time. The teacher was a hands off kind of teacher, he would basically tell us which part of the book to study, give us a work sheet, our homework, and then tell us to group up, and learn the material. Because I was more socially reclusive then than I am now, I never paired up, instead I studied, finished the worksheet, and the homework right there. All in all it took about twenty minutes, leaving forty to do what I wanted.

The first sign of trouble, was when I was just reading one day, he asked me if I was done. I told him yes, and that I had even finished the homework too. When I proved myself, he yelled at me that homework was meant to be done at home, and that if I have free time I should work on other school work, not goof off. The next day the same thing, when I told him I had no other assignments and I had even finished his homework again to make sure I had no extra work, he told me to join a group and see if they needed help. The next day again, I was drawing this time, and he yelled at me that I wasn’t helping, when I retorted that nobody needed or wanted my help, he got more mad, asked the class to raise their hands if they needed my help and nobody did. He told me that his class wasn’t for free time, and that I needed to keep working while I was in there. Now I was in Art class at the time, so drawing did count as working in my mind, but this being a sports man, he didn’t agree, so the next day when I was drawing again, he came to my desk and told me to pull out all my drawings I had on me.

It’s also important to note here that because I had puppies I was carrying my entire portfolio with me. Everything I had drawn since 6th grade, all tucked away in my backpack to keep the dogs from tearing them up. This was SIX YEARS worth of work I had cultivated and added to. This mother fucker took all of it, looked at some of the earliest work I had done, and said I should try to find something I had talent in instead of wasting my time at something that bad. Then he confiscated it all and told me I could have it all back if I passed his final and didn’t draw or read during his class. Fuck it, fine I thought, so for the next month I just did my work, and sat quietly, when other students refused my help. at the end of the term, Spanish was one of two finals I had gotten a full 100% on, the other being English/literature. When I demanded my portfolio back, this piece of shit told me he had used it as kindling when his kids asked him to make a fire at home. When I asked him if he was serious he didn’t answer, and instead told me that it didn’t matter what he did, I was never going to make a living of my art if I had no talent, that he’d done me a favor getting rid of it, and that I needed to focus on a real career and stop goofing off with worthless hobbies.

I’ll be 26 this month, meaning that it will have been almost ten years since this all happened, and I quit drawing altogether. The idea of losing so much time and effort, and being called worthless by a teacher really stuck with me. I know that the way schools work, any extra-curriculars  not sports related are considered not worth any time, and that’s the schools fault not mine, but still. Losing so much is a huge blow no matter what. I never drew again during school. I spent the rest of Junior and senior year worried that the same thing would happen again, so I didn’t bother, and by the time I got to college and started working I didn’t have enough time to do it anymore.

So yeah, that’s the full story. Fuck I lost a lot that day, I remember one of the paintings in that folder had been adopted by a local museum for a year to showcase local artists, and had just been returned to me that year. So yeah, that’s why I want to overcome that shit, and get back into drawing regularly. If I can, I want to start doing it for a couple hours every night. If anyone reading this has any suggestions for classes, tips or tricks I can find or use, I would be very grateful. I used to only do traditional artwork, with graphite or paint, but lately I’ve been using Spray paints, and Digital art, since even though the tablet cost a lot, the cost in supplies overall is much lower. I don’t remember if I already showed off my paintings in a previous post, but for digital art I’m using Clip Studio Paint, and it’s all new to me, so yeah, any help would be appreciated if offered, but mainly this was a story I needed to get off my chest and put out there so I can move on without it weighing me down. If I could give any advice to anyone around that age, going through some shit, it would be this. Nothing that makes you happy, is a waste of time or effort.

[svtntntn]

crazy rich asians (1/?)

traveling all the way across the country for a wedding wasn’t too hard of a task, but meeting your boyfriend’s mother and finding out he’s a multi-million dollar, sought after bachelor was another

inspo: CRAZY RICH ASIANS aka when I wrote this last summer!

a/n: REPOST bc tumblr did something weird when I edited the title on my phone! this is gonna be either 2 or 3 parts btw! this has been in my drafts for aGES 

Something is wrong, something is very very wrong.

Or it's about to be wrong.

You can feel it.

But you're drinking champagne from a crystal clear glass overlooking the gorgeous city skyline from a rooftop decorated with white silk ribbons and twinkling lights everywhere, the delicate glow of each bulb reminding you of fireflies gathering along a grassy field.

People are abuzz with laughter and giggles as more and more bottles of champagne are popped open and couples glide across the dance floor in a poised fashion.

Your eyes catch the gaze of another's across the rooftop, his brown eyes twinkling under the white lights as he makes small talk with an elderly woman at the food table. She nudges his side when he gestures over to you with the plate in his hand, a bashful smile on his face as he shakes his head to something she says.

You smile at the scene and turn back to sip on your champagne, your eyes sweeping over the clear night sky again.

Nothing should be wrong.

"Another plate of strawberries for m'lady." Minghao sets down the plate on the table and just like that, your doubts are cast away from your mind in the blink of an eye as he smiles at you, "I almost lost these to Junhui's eldest aunt, right over there."

Minghao holds out a strawberry for you, "How'd you manage to get them away from her?" You bite into the juicy strawberry, the berry's red color tinting your lips.

"How do you think I got them?" Minghao steals a bite from the very berry in your hands, a mischievous smirk on his lips.

You begin humming in thought, "You told her these were for me and seeing me across the room, she just had to give them up to you?"

"Nope." He shakes his head incredulously, scoffing at your idea, "not everything is about you."

"And yet," you steal back the strawberry from him with a coy raise of your eyebrows, tossing the pit to the side, "here you are, feeding me strawberries on the rooftop overlooking an entire city in a nice suit."

You pull him closer to you by the lapels of his overcoat and bring him into a curt kiss on the cheek, smoothing out the wrinkles on his shoulders right after.

The wind sweeps over you in a cold shudder, making goosebumps appear on your skin as you tense up. His cheeks warm up slightly as he removes his coat from his body, draping it over your shoulders and buttoning the middle.

Your arm slink into the sleeves of his jacket as you lay your head on his chest, looking over the city and studying each of the windows. Office workers running between floors in a haste, important businessmen and women pacing their offices—working overtime—doing exactly what you should be doing to afford a trip like this with the love of your life.

Instantly, you can feel the price of the entire trip, of Minghao's expensive jacket weighting you down.

"What's wrong?" Minghao brings your hair behind your ear, his hand traveling over to your shoulder. His touch is comforting and yet, it conjures butterflies in your stomach all at once, "You have this look, like you're distracted by something… or something's bothering you."

You pause because you know he's right; Minghao can read you like an open book, "Minghao, how are we here?"

"How are we here?" He repeats your question with a suspicious voice. "By plane. If you want to be more specific: we took a car from our apartment, then a flight all the way to Seoul—"

"You know that's not what I mean." You cut him off.

Your voice becomes a hushed whisper, "Minghao, how are we able to afford coming here? I know it's your best friend's wedding and all, but coming to Korea for one wedding ceremony and then going to China next weekend for another? How Junhui and Hana can afford this i-is beyond me, a-and that flight on that luxury plane last night costs us almost an entire year's salary, we can't be traveling like this if we want a future together—"

Minghao chuckles at your rambling, his heart skipping a beat at the mere mention of a future together. "Junhui and I have it covered, promise."

"Xu Minghao, you know how I feel about stuff like this." On your first date, Minghao was ready to cover the entire tab but was persuaded to split the bill after hearing you rally off reason after reason on why you two should split the check for nearly half an hour.

The last reason to fully convince him was the threat of no second date with you.

He pauses before shrugging, "My family has a deal with the airline and the tickets were a gift for doing business with them for so long."

"So your family just casually does business with a luxury airline that just gives away tickets like they don't cost hundreds of dollars?" You raise an eyebrow, "So you're saying that your family is rich?"

He nods unconvincingly, "We’re comfortable."

You smack his shoulder with your hand, "No no no no no, that’s something only a super rich person would say."

Minghao shrugs, not denying the words but not explicitly confirming it. "You know my family owns a successful photography company and they're the curators of a couple of art museums around Asia. To some people, they’re boring positions, but to my family, it means the world to us."

"Which also means..."

"Which also means that my family takes great pride in knowing and recognizing art... even making it their entire career and devoting their life to it." He shrugs, your hands over and over again. "We're rich in happiness."

"Just in happiness?" You repeat, your boyfriend nodding along. "I was worried you were holding some sort of big secret, like your family's involved in dealing something or something shady."

He laughs with a small chuckle, "If I was, would you still be with me?"

"Well," you feel Minghao's hand wrap around your waist as you think about the situation at hand, a teasing hum coming from your lips, "if you answered a few of my questions and offered me a slice of the deal, then yes I would."

"A slice of the deal, huh?" Minghao snorts, looking over at the skyline before his eyes concentrate on your eyes alone, "What, an entire lifetime with me isn't enough for you?"

No it is, it's more than enough, you think in your head.

Ever since the moment you met Xu Minghao, you knew you wanted a lifetime and more with him.

"That sounds like a proposal, Mister Xu." You don't dare to look away from him, the hint of a smile creeping up at the word 'proposal' on your lips.

You dreamt of the whole nine yards with him—marriage, kids, dinners surrounded by friends and family till you and him were wrinkled with age.

Minghao leans in closer to you, his lips hovering right above yours, "If you think that was your proposal, just you wait. I can't wait to call you Mrs—"

"Xu!" He's cut off by the sound of another person shouting his name, the bubble of the moment broken by two figures walking over to you, one of the two clapping your boyfriend on the back with a wide smile, "Xu Minghao! Happy to see you living and breathing fresh air instead of inhaling paint fumes inside your studio all day long!"

"Chan, I am not inhaling—"

"And you must be the lovely (y/n), I’m Chan." He studies you as he shakes your hand with a small wink. "And this is Soonyoung." The second figure gives you a polite smile as he sips on an amber-colored liquid before being carried away to talk to another group of people. "Or was."

"Nice to meet you, Chan." You return his kind smile as Minghao hugs his old friend, "I've definitely heard stories about you two and Jun and Hao from college, and I can gladly tell you that Hao hasn't been breathing in paint fumes in awhile."

"He hasn't, has he?" Chan laughs, "What's the newest thing you're working on now, Hao? Claymation?"

"Ha ha," Minghao playfully rolls his eyes at Chan's remark, "I'm still working in photography, showcasing local photography and portfolios from local artists. I still paint from time to time."

"That's good to hear, I can finally answer everyone's questions on what you've been up to since you dropped off the face of the planet three years ago." You raise an eyebrow at the sound of Minghao going MIA for three years, but don't say anything. "But I'm happy you and (y/n) are here tonight! I can finally tell (y/n) all the embarrassing stories from grade school to university, like that one time we snuck into the game room and painted—"

"If you tell that story, then I'm telling Seungcheol that you were responsible for the power outage that took out the entire dorm and the west wing of the library."

Chan glares back at him, "I wasn't even at the dorms that night and you know it."

"Seungcheol doesn't know that." Minghao retorts with a smirk.

"Can I get a say on wanting to hear this story?" you ask aloud, nudging Minghao's shoulder with your own. "Because I really want to hear everything." Minghao pulls a face and Chan avidly reminisces about the college years with you, leaving no detail out as Minghao corrects him on what actually happened years ago.

As Chan entertains you with story after story, Minghao watches you listen with a close ear, watching the way your eyes crinkle with amusement, the way you smile and grin in shock and awe at the stupid, college mishaps he found himself in.

Soonyoung and another friend of theirs, Seokmin, stop by your group and listen in on Chan's storytelling, filling in the blanks with their own versions of what happened, making you laugh with the four different versions of the truth.

Yet, with the group of Minghao's friends surrounding you and bombarding you with their loud personalities, you don't back away from them, if anything they help put you at ease, knowing you're immediately accepted into their world.

Minghao seems to notice your relaxed demeanor and squeezes your hip, bringing your attention up towards him. You begin to lean more into Minghao and he takes the moment to wrap his arms around you, placing his head on your shoulder as his friends barely even notice beyond their bickering.

"Lee Chan, is that you!" A female's voice yells across the rooftop, interrupting Chan's storytelling with an abrupt cliffhanger. All the guys turn to see a stunningly beautiful woman waving at him, but Chan's face contorts into displeasure, "Oh! Well, would you look at the time! I have to go," Chan begins a hasty round of goodbyes to you all. "It was great seeing you all again, especially you, (y/n)."

"I'll see you all at the wedding on Friday!" Chan quickly ducks behind you before backtracking, "Wait, are you both flying to Hong Kong for Junhui and Hana's second wedding?"

"Yes," Minghao answers immediately for the both of you and you nod your head in agreement, "yes."

"I'll see you all this Friday!" Chan disappears into the crowd and you turn to Minghao and the rest of the group with a questioning look.

"Let's just say that Chan has a way with women that many of us do not understand." Minghao explains, chuckling at the younger's escape. "And it typically ends up with someone screaming one way or another."

"And on that note, I'm going to find Junhui and Hana, I think they're going to be making their last toasts of the night." Soonyoung nods towards you and Minghao as Seokmin follows his lead, "I think I saw Seungcheol and Jeonghan by the bar, it was nice meeting you, (y/n)! See you at the wedding!"

The two leave your presence and you're left with Minghao lazily yawning by your ear, swaying you side to side as he closes his eyes. You peer around at him and nudge his chest, "Hey sleepyhead, you can't fall asleep on me just yet." He pouts and you can't help but nudge him again, "I'm pretty sure you owe me a dance."

"I do?" Minghao scratches his head before grabbing your hand and twirling you out of his arms. "Well, if my lady demands a dance, then a dance, she gets."

He pulls you back into his arms and you can't help the smile pulling at your lips, "I did not demand," you scoff, feigning insult. "I requested."

Minghao hums in thought, "How about strongly requested? I think that's a better way of phrasing it."

"Well then, I strongly request that you kiss me."

"I think I can strongly agree to that." He presses his lips over yours and there's that unmistakable parade of fireworks in your stomach just as your heart flutters over and over again in your chest. Once you pull away, you can't help but place another kiss on his lips before resting your head on his chest, feeling Minghao tighten his grip on you warmly as he smiles in content.

"Hello, attention everybody!" Junhui and Hana stand above everyone on a stage with microphones in their hands, blissful smiles on both of their faces. You and Minghao pull apart from one another and stand side by side as the happy couple thanks the party in a cheerful and raucous toast.

Off to the side, you don't seem to catch sight of two women talking with half-full flutes of champagne in their hands, disdain in their eyes and ruby red lipstick marring their lips. The priceless jewels adorning their ears and necks only serve to remind everyone of their wealth and power as they mindlessly scan the rooftop.

One woman prods the other with her elbow, pointing in you and Minghao's direction, "Is that Xu Minghao? He hasn't made a single appearance at parties since he fell off the map, was it two? Three years ago? He's still so handsome," she gushes.

"Who is that with him?" The woman glares daggers into your head, but you barely even notice as you whisper something to Minghao with delight in your eyes. "I've never seen her before."

"I don't know, but we'll find out soon enough." Where you and Minghao stand, you don't even notice the way she angrily taps away on her phone, the way she turns with her back to you two and raises her camera to snap a photo of you from afar.

"This is so going in the groupchat."

*sent 1 photo to groupchat*

I didn't know Xu Minghao had a girlfriend?

What? How do you know Xu Minghao has a girlfriend?

He has a girlfriend?!

OmG he does??

I'm at wen junhui's pre-wedding party in korea, xu minghao is here too and so is kim mingyu and kwon soonyoung and lee chan

what does she even look like?

They must be serious if she's at a wedding party with him

I don't see them lasting long

What family is she from?

not sure, she looks to be friends with wen junhui and lee chan

DOES HIS FAMILY KNOW??

I mean he's at a wedding party in seoul, so they must know!!

But do they know know her??

My auntie's visiting the Xu's tmrw, I'll ask her if his parents know;)

what's his gf's name? I'm gonna look her up

I don't know, let me ask around

Just as the woman begins to stalk her way over to someone to dig dirt on you, there's a special shoutout over the speakers, "and to my best friend, Xu Minghao and (y/n)! Thank you for coming out all this way to celebrate one of the happiest days of my life with me!"

(y/n), her name is (y/n)

(l/n) (y/n)? what family is she from?

I've never heard of her in my life

*received 1 photo from groupchat*

found her;)

.

[hellishvu]

The Bad Softie: the sequel

— the long awaited part 2! finally had enough time to sit down and write an actual story :) i really wanted to post this story before i went to bed, so i will edit it in the morning!! please excuse any grammar mistakes as i am almost passing out as i write this message!

— where taehyung has the journey of finding his self expression with the help of you by his side.

warning: homophobia, bullying, and sad events!! be safe and take care of yourself <3

“Look, hows this photo?” You showed a photo of you and Taehyung at a nearby roller rink for a date. You wanted to post it on Instagram, having it small due to you generally not trusting a lot of people after what happened to Taehyung.

“You got my good angle this time.” Taehyung laughed as he had looked behind him to see the photo having his portfolio for the art school on your desk.

“What are you talking about? Every angle of you is the best angle.” You kissed his forehead as he chuckled going back to filling out the long application of setting up his portfolio.

“I have to go get a film from Jungkook. We are going to meet at the college.” Taehyung sighed as he stood next to you waiting for a kiss.

“Why are you just standing there?” You chuckled as you flicked his forehead.

“Hm? I’m not sure. Maybe this boyfriend is expecting a smooch? on the forehead perhaps?” Taehyung raised his eyebrow.

“Touché.. touché.” You kissed his forehead as he headed out to walk to the nearby college. You smiled as you waved.

Taehyung walked a very far distance, he liked it. Although it was sometimes freezing in the morning. It was the time to clear his mind, to calm him down, and to get that exercise that he had for his 2019 new year’s resolutions.

Taehyung saw those bullies, the one that constantly texted him day after day after he came out. The constant harassment that Taehyung despised almost every single day. The moment he woke up, you knew about it but Taehyung didn’t let you do anything about it. He didn’t want to give them what they wanted. Taehyung tried to walk faster pass them to avoid the hurtful words they had to say.

“Hey! It’s the faggot!” Taehyung winced at the name, the stupid name that haunted his dreams but rather they were nightmares. Taehyung picked up his pace.

“Not now. Please.” Taehyung pleaded feeling them come closer and closer; almost like they wanted to tear him apart.

“Grab him.” His old friend, well his ex-friend of Taehyung’s joined the group that decided to bully him constantly. They gripped him, Taehyung struggling as his camera fell out of his hand breaking on the ground. Taehyung held in his tears, as the memories of the cameras flooded in.

“Give us your fucking money.” Taehyung hurried to get to his pockets seeing no money and empty pockets. Taehyung prayed he had some type of money. “I forgot the money for lunch.”

“I don’t have any. I swear.” Taehyung said as he covered his face being scared of being hit.

“Yes you do, Taehyung you always have money, you’re like a peasant you buy me the snacks I want or else.” The bully slapped Taehyung across his face causing Taehyung to raise his hand up to his face seeing the tears fall.

“What the fuck is going on?!” You came screaming in pure anger. The rage you had experienced couldn’t be described as you saw all the bullies turn their head. You stepped in front of Taehyung as he started crying holding onto you.

“Get the fuck out of here and don’t ever speak to Taehyung ever again.” You spoke your words were venom. You saw the bullies run away as Taehyung sobbed again as you turned around hugging him tightly. You rubbed his back as you ran your hand through his hair to comfort him.

“It’s okay. It’s okay I’m here.” You whispered as you rocked with him hoping to calm his crying down.

“How did you get here?” Taehyung asked as he looked up you saw his red puffy eyes. You moved the strands of hair from his face.

“You forgot your money for lunch.” You snickered as you pulled the dollars out of your back pocket. You pulled Taehyung into a kiss. You wrapped your hand around his waist as you lead him to a cross-walk.

“Where are you taking me?” Taehyung asked sniffing wiping his last tears. You pulled him closer as you pointed at the sign.

“A ramen take-out place. Text Jungkook you don’t need the film. I can buy it for you.”

“But, you don’t have to. They broke my camera.”

“Oh, then I will just buy you another one. I want to help you Taehyung.” You smiled at Taehyung trying to help him forget the experience of what had just happened.

“Thank you so much.” Taehyung said in a shaky breath.

Taehyung woke up to the sweet smell of pancakes, the room is lightened by the sun in the morning. Taehyung yawned as he felt the fan breezing on him, you opened the door smiling jumping on him causing him to groan.

“Good morning baby.” You said as you laid on your back as you pinched his cheeks. Taehyung giggled as he saw your soft morning look.

“I have a surprise for you.” You gave him a wrapped present that you bought the early morning of today. You saw Taehyung rip into the present like he was a kid once again. You pushed the wrapping off to the side as Taehyung open a black box the suspense looked like it was going to kill him.

“Open it!” You said becoming impatient for Taehyung. He opened it to see two tickets to his favorite artist. You saw his eyes widen, as you expected a very big hug next.

“You didn’t!” As expected Taehyung hugged you basically jumping onto you causing you to lay down. You smiled as you felt his genuine happiness.

“When- How?! How did you get them?”

“I saved up some money plus you always talk about them and I thought you seeing them could help you.”

Those little things you did for Taehyung, whether he was too scared to go a grocery store from the anxiety of people, you make sure he felt safe and you made sure no person would lay a finger on him.

Taehyung had left the college he was first in. You soon enough leaving with him, it was self-care. That toxic place of just reputations wasn’t what life should be like Taehyung had thought. He fully immersed himself into art, whether it was trying acting, photography, or drawing. You supported him.

You drove him to art classes, photography classes, and acting classes. You helped him, you saw a man being free to become himself. When he got home from a lesson you would hear him go on tangents that you never got tired of.

“Oh god, I hope I’m not annoying.” You hit him on the shoulder.

“Of course you’re not annoying, Taehyung I’m glad. You get to experience this, you deserve it.”

“I haven’t turned it in.”

“What?”

“My application.”

“Tae-” The first 3 words, sounded disappointed and that’s what Taehyung hated so much. He wanted you to be proud of him and of the progress, he’s made.

“I’m scared, my whole life science has been shoved down my throat but what if I’m just not good enough?” Taehyung cleared his throat as he saw the corner of the desk being filled with pieces that he’s thrown out, crushed, or cut up.

“You have art, your way of thinking is so different and beautiful from many other people. You will become so successful with your art. You just have to put yourself out there.”

“What if they are just like the old college? Where I get harassed, degraded, and insulted?” Taehyung felt his eyes sting, the ripping of his confidence as the memories floods back in almost like an emotional tsunami.

“They won’t, I promise you. Most of the world nowadays are becoming accepting, they are just one rotten batch of apples. Your sexuality should never stop you from achieving your goals.” You held his hands as you pressed your forehead against his feeling his soft breathes.

“You deserve to be happy.”

“Thank you, so much. I will turn it in tomorrow. It’s all finished but it was just collecting dust.” Taehyung said as you kissed him embracing him.

“The letter came in, oh god oh god!” Taehyung grabbed it from the dinner table that you two shared. Taehyung gave it to you looking away from it.

“You open it! I can’t I can’t!” Taehyung paces around the room and finds himself biting his nails which he hasn’t done since 9th grade.

“Are you sure?” You ask as Taehyung nodded pointing at the letter. The sound of the letter being opened as you pull it out, opening the destiny of Taehyung.

“Dear Kim Taehyung, we are happy to inform you that you have been accepted!” You scream as Taehyung jumps in the air, grabbing the letter seeing the big bold words. Taehyung jumps on you as he wraps his legs around your waist as you kiss him.

“Holy shit, I’m going to my dream fucking school.” Taehyung’s mind couldn’t comprehend. It was like he was dreaming.

“Well, now we have to get you clothes! For your new year!” You said as you opened his wardrobe seeing just jeans and t-shirts. Taehyung always found himself at night when you’re sleeping looking at fashion shows of more unique pieces of clothing. He fantasized about it like a kid wanting to be Batman.

“Maybe it’s bland. Just haven’t gotten to that part of my journey yet.” Taehyung talks about it like its a sacred thing. He always wanted to wear clothes that were not just 2 simple pieces.

“Baby, you can order online. I will get it from the post office if you want me to. I want you to self-express because you have the taste of the 9 gods.” You said as you logged into your home desktop that you and Taehyung saved money for. You clicked on a website known for streetwear and gestured Taehyung sit in the office chair.

Taehyung went nuts on that day, at first, he got little stuff of pastels. Wore them but hide most of it under a coat. Later days went by, weeks also and he was wearing pastels. From dark colors like black, grey, and light greys to pastels like pink, purple, and blues. He had alternated, he likes his dark colors and his pastels. He didn’t need to identify with one set of colors, he was a free man.

Now the day had finally arrived, and the temptation of saying “No I can't do this.” showered Taehyung’s mind as he got ready for his first class. You made him breakfast that was barely eaten due to the nerves in his stomach. You drove him, letting him take aux to help him calm down. You arrived and Taehyung was looking in his backpack to see if he had everything he needed.

“You have been so understanding.” Taehyung smiled as you held his hand. You parked in the back as Taehyung’s new semester had begun. The art school that he dreamed of taking since he was 13. It was in front of his eyes, you opened the car door, Taehyung staying the car as he watches you walk around to his side.

You opened the door, seeing Taehyung look up before he takes your hand pulling you into a tight hug you rubbing his back.

“You got this, you’ve gone through hell and back just to not go Taehyung.” You smiled as you fixed the hat that he wore. The love in his eyes, as you gestured that he started walking before he was late to his first class.

a/n: the end! I hope you all like it, feel free to read this for authors mindset on this, so the reason I wrote this story was to explain the heaviness of coming out, especially if you have an anti-LGBT situation. we love you!! and please stay strong and love yourself! because you are beautiful and there is nothing wrong with you, no matter what race, gender, or age. you deserve to be happy.

[someonefromseoul]

Fuck Me.

Hello. I don’t know who or what I’m directing this to but I’ll just pretend there’s someone actually reading this. Temptation is a strong fundamental desire that doesn’t always have our best interest. Like that time you look in the mirror wishing you haven't had that donut for lunch, or that other time when you turn and toss, only to find yourself not being able to sleep at 4am from the nap you had earlier that day.

I feel like shit right now. I had oily ass bacon for breakfast, cup noodles for brunch, pepperoni pizza for lunch, ice cream cone for dessert, almond soy bean milk as my “work drink”, only to transition my day into a nap.

I feel bloated as fuck and my pimples are having the time of their lives, meeting new friends and such. 

So this only leads me to my usual routine of self hatred and disgust for a solid hour, drotting down what the rest of my day will look like just to fool myself to thinking I’m productive, and get on Tumblr to waste more time complaining about my day!

Okay, but here’s the deal. I really do want to get better again. I stopped working out ever since my gym closed down from that fucking coronavirus (yes, I am that spoiled and self centered only to be complaining about my gym closing during this time of crisis) which has been a couple of months now. 

I had diet fillers on my chin area to get rid of my chin fat right before the quarantine. That was a fucking waste of money since my double chin is back.

Anyway, my point is that I want to be somewhat sane again. My mind is literally going crazy over being stuck at home and I clearly don’t love my body enough judging by how I’ve been treating it. 

I put a face mask earlier today. That’s a change. I’m going to work out starting NOW. In like a few hours. And I’m going to document the progress and process because I want to see the change and actually hold myself accountable if I don’t go through with this. 

So this is the plan.

1. I am 51.8kg (114.2 pounds) right now. My goal weight is 48kg (105 pounds). Okay, so basically my goal is to lose around 10 pounds.

2. I just started an art instagram. Try to post three times a week. I want to have 10 followers by the end of May. And NOT by asking my limited amount of friends to follow. I want to connect with real strangers who are really there for my art.

3. My fucked up skin. Let’s try to clear that out as soon as possible as well. I know I have oily skin and a huge part of that comes down to what I consume. Let’s fucking please stay away from oily and salty food. Drinks permitted is only water, tea, and sometimes alcohol. 

4. Speaking of alcohol, try to stay away from that. Which I’m doing a good job of these days because I’m “social distancing” (no friends). I’m going out tomorrow though but let’s really try to keep it like max 3 drinking nights per month. MAX. preferably once to none.

5. You can never single out alcohol when you’re a smoker. Hi, hello, I’m a smoker. I’ll write a post going more in depth about my smoking journey. Long story short, I’ve been smoking since August of 2013. So like 7 years already. I genuinely don’t know why I started it. Actually that’s a lie, I got into it because I thought it looked cool and I wanted to fit in. Sad, sad weakling I was. Anyway, I’m going to QUIT. I literally say this like merry Christmas to the point my friends just roll their eyes at me whenever I say this. Like, let’s really try to make this a reality instead of this having to be that time I cried wolf again. LIKE PLEASE. For yourself, man. You know you’re getting old and it’s not like you have any more health to spare.

6. Work on my art project. You know which one I mean. I want to keep it on the down low. To roughly plan, I want to work on my portfolio around June July and August. but by June, let’s focus on instagram, enhancing my drawing skills from proko, and this personal art project I’m not going to specifically go into because it’s confidential. Let’s call it Arty. So yeah, finish Arty.

7. My relationships. Mind you, I’ve never seen a therapist because I’m not financially independent and it’s a taboo subject to bring up in Asian culture. At least with my family. So no, I haven’t been professionally diagnosed, but who needs a doctor when we have google, right? So to preface, this is not a legitimate claim I’m making. But I strongly think and believe that I have anxiety; especially social anxiety and an avoidant personality disorder. I definitely deal with SOMETHING-I do plan on going to a therapist the moment I get the chance to, which is hopefully, soon. Anyway, getting back on topic. I want to work on my relationships with my friends and family because I’ve literally been in my shell for the past couple of months. Avoiding people at all costs. Not healthy at all.

8. My mental health. Probably the most important one. If this was a meat house and I could grade my health, I would give it a B+. Definitely not a S, not exactly an A either-but on the fence between A and B. Not quite A- but more of a B+. I don't have any serious health issues but I’m not great either. I feel slightly uncomfortable when breathing, my mind is foggy, and I think I might have hemorrhoids soon. Literally keeps me up at night because it frightens me-I constantly flex my butthole just in case things might peep out (sorry for the TMI but this is my fucking blog so deal) (me still pretending like someone’s actually still reading this shit post) I lose sleep over it, don’t even get me started. Anyway, if my body health is a B+, my mental health is probably around a B-. I don’t think it’s around the C level, but it’s definitely below average (average being a B). It’s at the verge of either becoming average or enter into the C level. A or S is obviously out of reach with my potential right now. But I want to get to an A; possibly to a S some day. Some day. A girl can dream. Anyway, how I want to go about this is to keep writing on this blog. Because I have a fake ass personality, I literally hide my real self to everybody. Kinda psycho like that. At least this little spot can be my safe space where I can get all my genuine shit out. To be serious for 2 seconds, I think I’m fake to people these days because I don’t feel comfortable being completely myself. My self esteem really plummeted after I graduated high school. I’ve been shushing myself internally too-shaming myself about how stupid and weird I sound. I’ve been trying to press down all my negative judgements and thoughts because I didn't want to spread that kind of energy to other people which made me be fake positive all the time. That can be really fucking suffocating, guys. Those of you who know what I mean say I. 

Anyway, I want to find my color again. I think I’ve been shushing and shaming myself for so long, I don't even know who I am anymore. Hopefully writing like this helps. And apparently physically working out does as well. Let’s try to aim everyday, maybe a lazy day per week.

Side note-Kakaotalk keeps spamming me about the sakura flowers and how beautiful it is, suggesting me to go see it. Um, hello. Can you stop harassing me with these insensitive messages? Some people don’t have friends to go with. And it’s quarantine season? Are you dumb?

9. My looks. which goes under self care as well. I’m not gonna lie, I think I’m a fairly okay looking girl. I’m going to change my makeup style because after not putting on makeup for so long and looking back at my old photos, I’ve seen my bare face for so long, I grew fresh pair of eyes to see how I REALLY looked prior to this quarantine. And I finally got what people meant by “your makeup looks obnoxious.” Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely LOVE makeup. I’ve loved makeup ever since I was a sophomore in high school. I follow many of the beauty gurus (how they used to call it back in the days. I think people call them beauty influencers or makeup artists now) from youtube and Sephora was my second home. My broke ass owns like majority of the urban decay naked palettes in exchange for eating kimchi and eggs for weeks with my poor college student self in exchange. Poor college student with a BEAT makeup look though.

Anyway, the point I want to get across is that I respect and love ANY form of self expression. There is no such thing as too much or too less (is that even a word) makeup as long as YOU feel good in it. I personally did and I enjoyed my extra caked face. But not anymore. Maybe on some occasions, but I just don’t feel like that’s me anymore. So I need a new make up look, and I literally want new clothes. I hate my freaking outfits. Going to invest in some soon.

I can’t really think of anything else. I want to go in further with some of the topics I’ve tackled today but I think that’s enough journal writing for today. If I think of anything else, I can always update later. I just fucking pray I don't get hemorrhoids. I don’t have it now but I’m just so paranoid because I literally sit down 25/8 and apparently sitting for an extended period of time continuously can cause hemorrhoids. And for some reason I keep feeling like I’m going to get it soon. Like my butthole low-key feels a little weird at times. Hopefully I’m okay.

[daysswithyou]

V. Sungjin - Bet

Characters: Sungjin x You

Genre: enemies to lovers!6

Warning: some cursing and swearing

Credits: @7abshy and @parkjaeins; for helping me figure out how annoying teachers can be

Words: 5k

Description: There is always more than meets the eye

Author’s note: This wraps up the enemies to lovers!6 series :) I hope you’ve enjoyed all 5 of them! 

-----

I’m late, I’m late, I’m late, shit!

You repeatedly mouthed the words to yourself under your breath as you squeezed past the throng of people crowding the hallways, occasionally throwing an apology across your shoulder if you bumped into someone. Opting to not take the front entrance into the lecture hall, you ran up flights of stairs to reach the back entrance. By the time you reached the top, you were gasping for breath, your thighs were burning and you could feel the first beads of sweat roll down your back. Slipping through the crack of the heavy wooden door, you settled into the closest empty seat, trying to steady your breathing as your pants became too loud within the enclosed space.

Deep breaths Y/N, deep breaths...

You internally heaved a sigh of relief when you saw the empty podium in front, glad that your professor for this class will not have a bad impression of you.

But your relief was short-lived as the booming voice right next to you soon commanded for attention.

“Alright let’s get started, now that the last student is here.”

As he walks down the flight of stairs to reach the podium, it gives you enough time to observe the authoritative figure. His black leather jacket and ripped black jeans made him look exceptionally tough, and you swore you saw some male students flinch when he walked past them. His hair, which was the colour of warm chocolate, was too long and brushed against his eyelids.

He looks like a model that has just stepped out of a Harley Davidson advertisement.

But you mentally berated yourself for the inappropriate thought, and proceeded to haul it out of the window.

When he stepped onto the podium, he surveyed the whole room before starting again.

 “Good morning. My name is Park Sungjin and I’ll be your TA for this semester and for this class.”

 Ah, so this was the legendary Park Sungjin that you had heard so much about during your first semester. He was famous for being the top student of the graduating batch, with an impeccable portfolio to match. Apparently, he’s so good to the point that many companies and graduate schools have offered him a place amongst them. But, he is also notorious for being a tough TA and everyone’s advice was to just stay away from his bad side if you ever had the fortune (or misfortune) of being in his classes.

All you wanted was to pass this class peacefully so you made it your goal to not cross the line.

However, when he opens his mouth to give the next set of instructions, you knew that you were already on the wrong side of the line.

“So now, if you’re ready Ms Y/N, I’ll begin with the introduction on the topic.” Giving you one last hard glance, he turned to face the screen. Everyone else was furiously copying down notes, but not you.

He said my name, he knows who I am. I’ve been singled out.

It felt like someone had just passed you the death sentence.

-

A week passed by uneventfully and you tried your best to not attract attention to yourself in class. You were on time, and you were attentive in class. You never gave Sungjin trouble – or Mr Park, as you know him by now. Yet, such tactics did not work on him. You knew that you had his full attention when he stares at you from the front as he is giving lectures, even if you’re sitting in a last row. He’ll always linger a little longer behind you as write answers to the mini quizzes in class. You made the mistake of looking up at him once, and you nearly combusted under his hard gaze. What’s worse is that you can’t decide if he approves or disapproves of your work. Perhaps that was the most agonising part.

Today was no different. After handing up your papers for the quiz to the front, you attempted to slip away with the crowd but you just couldn’t slip past Park Sungjin’s attention.

“Y/N, could I have a word with you?”

You halted in your steps, his monotone voice sending chills down your spine.

Why me…

Squeezing your eyes shut and taking in a shaky breath, you turned around to face him before walking in his direction. Your steps were a little too hesitant and you were obviously clutching onto your bag too tightly because this was the first thing that Sungjin said when you finally stood in front of him.

“You can loosen your grip on your bag strap, your knuckles are turning white.”

“O-o-oh. It’s a habit, sorry.”

“What time do your lessons end today, Y/N?”

“6pm. My last lesson is Introduction to Psychology.”

“Good. Meet me at Conference Room 2 of the Social Sciences block, 6.30pm sharp.”

“Yes. Anything else…?”

“That’s all. You may go now.”

Giving Sungjin a curt bow, you scurried out of the lecture hall as fast as you could, dreading the time when you had to see him again.

 6.30pm came too early for your liking, and you soon found yourself face to face with Sungjin once more. A thick stack of papers were sitting by the corner of the table beside him and you knew immediately.

“I’m here to grade papers?”

“More or less; I’ll be giving the final grade and you can help me critique.”

You simply nodded before assuming the seat in front of him.

The next time you looked up, your neck popped up with a loud crack and the clock read 12am. Sungjin kept you thoroughly occupied for the past few hours, papers being presented to you in a systematic manner. You’ve said more words to him a few hours than you’ve said to all your professors combined last semester. While disguised as ‘extra exposure’ for you, deep down you knew that this was Sungjin’s special torture method – and you finally understood what others meant by getting on his bad side.

But the torture didn’t end there.

“Y/N, don’t forget that we have an assignment due the next day. Oh, and don’t be late. See you tomorrow.”

Everything sounds really innocent but you knew what Sungjin really meant was “Don’t mess up tomorrow Y/N.”

You wanted to let out a sigh of frustration but instead you swallowed it and merely replied with a spritely “Yes” before leaving the office.

 -

And this went on for months. Every single time Sungjin gave your class a quiz, you would find yourself in the conference room with him grading papers; sometimes at the expense of your own work. It gradually extended to grading papers from his other classes, but never once did you complain. You knew better than to argue with teachers, much less Sungjin. Every time he looks at you, your words die in your throat; how on earth were you supposed to hold an argument with him? But, of course, when you were back in the comfort of your dorm, which was when you were cursing and swearing at him. At one point in time, your roommate almost called an exorcist, thoroughly freaked out by the way you were flaying your limbs in the air as you continued screaming in frustration.

Needless to say, the late nights left with less sleep, and little energy to pay attention. You were up till 4am last night (or should you say morning), rushing out assignments due today for 2 different classes. You had burst into Sungjin’s lecture hall a good 20 minutes late but in your state, you didn’t care anymore. As usual, you settled into the closest seat you could find, one hand combing through the tangles in your hair, the other rummaging through your bag for your lesson materials. But you were so thoroughly exhausted that you fell asleep 10 minutes later, you pen stopping midway across your paper.

The next time you regain consciousness was when Sungjin’s voice calling your name rang through the speakers.

“So, Ms Y/N, what do you think of the question I just raised?”

You awoke with a start and you scattered your stationary across the floor in the process. You could hear the whole hall snickering at your blunder; save for the few kids sitting around you that helped you pick up your stray pens.

What was the question even? That was the most urgent question for you to answer. You shot a hard look at Sungjin, one that said, “How dare you call me when I’m in this state because of YOU.”

You were sure that he understood your gaze, but he merely raised an eyebrow, as he always did. It was the one that you recognised as “Go on, I’m waiting for your answer.” You knew that there was no way out of this except to answer his question. Panicking, you stared at the last word you wrote in your notebook before rattling off.

“The most famous poem from the Old English period, widely recognised by most is Beowulf. And for – ”

“Oh Ms Y/N, I didn’t know that Scandinavians spoke Old English in the late 10th century. Clearly, someone needs to keep her eyes and ears open. Also, I asked for your opinion, not of those from the 10th century.”

From beneath his long locks, Sungjin gave you a mischievous glint and smirked at you as the entire hall erupted into raucous laughter. Everyone was laughing, except you. Everyone found this funny, except you. Everyone was in a good mood, but you were livid.

How.fucking.dare.you.Park.fucking.Sungjin. I’m suffering in class now because of all your stupid “extra exposure” work after school. Yet you purposely picked on me to answer your question, knowing full well that I can’t. Why do you like picking on me so much? Why do you like embarrassing me in class so much? WHY PARK SUNGJIN!!!

You might have felt better if you actually said it out loud, but you didn’t. You just kept repeating this thought to yourself like a mantra until the end of the lesson.

It’s ok Y/N, just another 30mins of sitting in this hall and looking at his face. Afterwards you can leave and get yourself some ice cream to make yourself feel better. Yes, that’s right… everything is going to be ok Y/N...

But that day, things were not ok and you left the hall in a foul mood. For the final project of the year, you were paired up with Song Jihyo, the girl in class that was notorious for not doing her work.

Its official, Park Sungjin hates me and wants me to burn in Hell. That day, your whole body ached at the thought of more late nights and instead of eating your ice cream, you remembered hurling it at an innocent, nearby tree.

-

Everything that you thought would happen did happen. It’s as the saying goes, “Everything that can go wrong will go wrong.” And in this case, you were helpless against its happening. The only time that you talked to Jihyo was deciding on the thesis and after that, she was virtually uncontactable. You eventually gave up trying to arrange a time to meet to do up the thesis; you merely assigned her parts – which, to be fair, she did do. But they were of such poor quality you ended up deleting most of it and redoing it yourself. But no matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed fresh and you decided to bite the bullet and ask for help.

Lucky for you, Mr Kim was in class today and you immediately ran to him for help.

“Good morning Mr Kim. I have some questions about the final project thesis, is it alright if I ask a few questions?”

“Ah Y/N aren’t you? I’ve heard so much about you from Sungjin! I’ll be glad to help, let me take a look.”

Eagerly, you showed him what you had done so far and when he smiled, you felt a small smile creep onto your face, silently happy that you had gained his approval. But soon, the smile was wiped off your face.

“First of all, an excellent thesis choice, I must say. I remember Sungjin doing something similar for my class 3 years ago, why don’t you ask him for help? He is in a better position to help than I am.”

“Yes sir, I’ll ask Sung- I mean, Mr Park. Yes, I’ll ask Mr Park for advice. Thank you.”

With a light pat on your shoulder, he left you alone and when you turned, you found Park Sungjin standing right in front of you.

“I heard you need help?”

“Yes...” You hated it; you hated having to admit that you needed help from Park Sungjin.

“Hand it over.”

Reluctantly, you passed him your phone and turned to the side, not wanting to see his face further.

When he finally passed back the phone to you, you didn’t feel any more enlightened.

“You can do better than this.”

“What do you mean? That isn’t helpful!”

“That’s all I have to say. You know what to do, so do it.”

“I don’t! I don’t know what to do, which is why I’m asking for help!”

“Then sit down and figure it out.”

So that’s how it’s going to be – you won’t give me a consultation when I need it the most. Fine.

But that was not what you said. You said this instead, “Ok, I’ll figure it out.”

From then onwards, without help from anyone, you trudged through the group thesis yourself. This was on top of the individual thesis that each of you had to prepare for. You were literally typing so much (or rather, punching) your keyboard so hard that one of the keys fell out and you had to send your laptop for repairs. Not only was school draining your sanity, it was also draining your money. Due to the delay in repairing your laptop, you were left with a week to finish half of your thesis.

The outcome: later nights and heavier eye bags. By now, you were too tired to curse and swear at Sungjin for the terrible grouping since it was already taking insane willpower from you to even show up in class. You merely bottled up your indignation, and kept working to avoid thinking about it. After placing the stack of papers in Sungjin’s letter tray, you went back to your dorm and crashed for 12 hours straight.

This signalled the start of your 1 week break, and one week of not seeing Park Sungjin.

Thank goodness.

-

The next time you saw Park Sungjin, you were glad that it was the last time that you would have to see him. After all the torture he had put you through for the past semester, you were glad that you’ll be done with him now.

Yet, as always, Park Sungjin manages to make your life a living hell till the end.

Group Thesis: C

Individual Thesis: E

Overall: D

Comments for Individual Thesis: Clear presentation of key ideas and mostly factually correct. Choice of thesis could be better.

Signed: Park Sungjin

Choice of thesis could be better. Park Sungjin failed me, just because he didn’t like my topic.

You were brought out from your shock by a large shove from behind. Whipping around, you found a smiley Jihyo in front of you and her next words made you want to punch her in her perfect little teeth.

“Thank you for helping me pass the class Y/N! How much did you get?”

Without your consent, she ripped your papers from your hands before handing them back to you with a frown.

“That’s odd; we had the same choice of individual thesis, why did you do worse?” But Jihyo had no time to contemplate on the answer to her question when she was dragged away by her friends to celebrate their good grades.

I can tolerate everything that Park Sungjin has put me through, but not this.

Running up to Sungjin, you stopped him from leaving before asking to see him.

“Do you have time now?”

“Yes. What is this about?”

“This is about my thesis, can we talk somewhere else?”

“Conference Room 2 of the Social Sciences building in 10 minutes, I need to talk to Mr Kim first.”

“Ok.”

You were going to clear this once and for all.

-

“So, what is it about your thesis, Y/N?”

“You failed me just because you didn’t like my topic, didn’t you?”

You’ve rehearsed this part many times in your head and this wasn’t how it was supposed to sound like. It was supposed to sound polite and less accusatory, but fuck that. You wanted answers, and if you had to demand it from him, you will.

“Yes, I did. What’s the issue with it?”

“It’s not fair.”

“Nothing is fair in this world Y/N; I thought you’d know that by now.”

“Yes, I do know that. But what you’re doing is not only unfair, but also downright discriminatory.”

“How so?”

“Jihyo told me that we both had the same choice of thesis, and I got and E and she got a B. My grades are clearly a personal attack against my character. You never liked me from the start, I get it. But it’s wrong to simply disregard my entire thesis because you didn’t like the topic! What is wrong with this topic? It’s within the list of topics that you’ve given us, I met the word count, I met deadlines. I did everything!”

“And I’m supposed to give you a A for that?”

"I’m not saying you have to give me an A for it. I'm just trying to prove the fact that – " "A fact is already a fact, you don't have to prove it." "God damn it Sungjin! Would you just lay off me for a second? Would it kill for you to not correct my grammar for once? Would it kill you to not pick on me for one second?" "It's Mr Park, for you. It still is. And no, I won't lay off your grammar – you are an English language major that has taken my class, there is no way that I'm allowing you to continue to speak with bad grammar." "I hate you." "That can technically count as swearing at a teacher. Are you testing my patience?" "No. I'm just saying that it's not fair for you to give me a bad grade just because you did not like my choice of thesis. That's just being biased." "I'm not changing your grade." "I can't fail this module Sungjin! I need to pass this module to go for the Advanced English module. Yes, it's not a perfect thesis but I don't deserve to fail for this!" "Welcome to the real world Y/N." "I hate you Sungjin. I really fucking do." You pick up your bag and slam the door on your way out. That night, for the first time, you cried. And you hated the fact that you were crying over stupid Park Sungjin.

-

The next day, you awoke with puffy eyes but nonetheless, you showed up for lessons. You nearly bumped into Sungjin on your way to Psychology but you immediately detoured. You couldn’t get close to him – you might just punch him and be charged for assaulting a teacher.

That evening, you had just ended lessons when your phone buzzed and Sungjin’s name lit up on your screen.

Mr Park: You have another chance to redo your thesis and not fail the class. Deadline is January 20th, 2 weeks from now. Papers in my tray at 6pm sharp; don’t be late for the submission.

You swiped his notification away quickly, but you remembered the words and that night, you began sourcing for more ideas for your individual thesis.

For the next 3 days, Sungjin just wouldn’t leave you alone. Your phone buzzed with his name every now and then, and he was so distracting that you nearly wanted to block his number.

Mr Park: Are you going to resubmit your thesis?

Mr Park: Have you chosen a thesis yet?

Mr Park: What is your choice of thesis? How many words in?

Mr Park: Do you need help? Just drop me a message; I can help you check your thesis.

Help me with my thesis? Is he playing saint now? As if I’m going to accept help from him.

As you turned your attention back to your screen, you found that a shadow has fallen in front of your laptop. You found yourself staring at a pair of familiar, battered, black Converse and looking up only confirmed your suspicions. The man was here in person – Park Sungjin.

“Why aren’t you replying my messages?”

Why must I hold myself accountable to you? Buzz off.

You continued typing, completely ignoring Sungjin. You heard him sigh before inviting himself to sit in front of you.

“Y/N, what is your thesis? Hey, answer me. I came all the way down here to find you.”

“You came here voluntarily, I didn’t ask for your help. You can leave.”

“You’re still angry at me?”

Of course I am, you asshole. You’re just asking the obvious.

With each thought, you punched the keys on your keyboard harder.

“Stop typing so hard, you’ll spoil your keyboard. Working in spite is not going to produce quality work Y/N.”

Without your consent, he lifted your laptop into the air and onto his lap and scrolled through your entire document for 15 minutes. Passing it back to you with a smile, you stared at him in shock for 5 minutes.

Park Sungjin never smiles; did he just smile at me?

“You did it.”

“What did I do?”

“You figured it out. This was the choice of thesis I wanted you to choose in the very first place. Furthermore, you’ve chosen the correct area to focus on.”

“Thank you… I thought…”

“What did you think about?”

“I thought I might not be on the right track. But your words makes me feel a little more reassured now.”

“Well, I’ll leave you alone now.”

Park Sungjin then took his leave, but he was lying when he said he’ll leave you alone. He never did. Till the submission deadline, he visited you every alternate day.

As expected, you got an A for your individual thesis.

-

When you got an email from Mr Kim saying that he wanted to meet you, you thought you were doomed; most likely a disciplinary case on your head after what you said to Sungjin. But turns out, it was an interview for the Advanced English course, and they passed you immediately. When you walked out of the room still stunned that that you had entered the course of your choice, you found Sungjin waiting outside for you, almost like he knew you were going to be there.

“They passed you didn’t they?”

“Huh?”

Hearing his voice reminded you of what Mr.Kim said to you just now:

“We’ve received high commendations of you, Ms Y/N. All the professors pushed for your recommendation into the course, and Sungjin, especially. He was the first one to mention offering you a place in the course. He spoke of your remarkable working attitude.”

“May I ask something?”

“Yes, anything at all.”

“What exactly did Mr Park say about me?”

“He mentioned that you work well even under immense stress and long hours, catching up really fast even if you fell behind. But, most importantly, he spoke of your willingness to try again after failure. That is the most important quality that we are looking out for: tenacity. We have no doubt that you’ll be a suitable candidate to enter this demanding course. We would love to offer you a place, should you choose to accept.”

“I would love to, thank you. Thank you to the faculty and professors for having me.”

Sungjin hates me, why would be recommend me for the course?

“Follow me.”

Taking him by the wrist, you dragged Sungjin all the way to the bridge in the school park before letting him go.

“What’s with the rush, Y/N?”

Hands on your hips, you turned to face Sungjin with wide eyes, your lips set firmly in a thin line.

“I don’t understand you Sungjin. First, you torture me in lessons by making me so many extra work and now you’re putting in good words for me and recommending me for my dream course? Did you suddenly decide that you like me more now overnight?”

“Ah, so they told you everything I said. Mr Kim promised to not tell, I should have known he wouldn’t keep to it.”

“You’re still not answering my questions.”

“I’m getting there. First of all, that extra work was not torture, they were a test. I loaded you with many things to see how much you can handle before you snapped but thankfully and luckily for me, you never did.”

“I did silently curse and swear at you.”

“That is a given. But you didn’t say it out loud, so it doesn’t count. You’ve proven to – ”

“To be able to work well under immense pressure and long hours.”

“Yes. That is an important quality for taking any Advanced courses. I took the same course with the same professors that you’ll be having so I know how intense it was. I had to put you under pressure to see if my bet was correct.”

“I was your bet?”

“Yes, I was betting on you all along. You have great potential.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh? I thought someone hated me before.”

“Like you said, that was before. I don’t anymore. What you put me through was tough, but they did teach me more about myself and my limits. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now that I’ve managed to help you get a place in your course, I think it’s time to return the favour?”

“What’s your proposal?”

“Come to my graduation ceremony next spring. It’s in April.”

“Ok. That’s all?”

“That’s all for now.”

But when a soft smile lights up Sungjin’s face, you knew there was more in store for the both of you in time to come.

-

April 20th

You had come early to get front row seats and as you watch Sungjin give a speech representing the graduating batch, your heart swells with pride. You’ve seen him work very hard for the past one semester and to see him being handed his graduation certificate made you feel like all his efforts paid off.

You were the last to greet Sungjin because there was simply too many people crowding around him. You watch from afar and you giggle when you see Sungjin frantically asking Kang Younghyun if he’s seen you around. He does this thing where his eyes grow big like saucers, so big that you thought they were going to pop out of their sockets. You could also hear the fear in his voice – he speaks a little faster and slips into the Busan dialect. So when you greet him by gently tapping him on the shoulder, he whips around so fast the wind nearly knocked you over. But when you see his facial expression melt from one of worry into one of happiness, you nearly melt into a puddle there and then. You’d given anything to see those sparkly eyes and sweet smile.

“Ah finally you’re here Y/N! I saw you in the front row just now but then afterwards I didn’t so I was worried that you left but I haven’t got a photo with you yet. I was so sad  because I haven’t asked you my question yet – ”

“Calm down Sungjin! I’m here now right? Also, happy graduation! I got this for you.”

Proudly, you hold up the bear plushie you had custom made for him, decked out in the exact same graduation gown that he had on right now.

“It looks like you, right? I named him Bang!”

“Why Bang?”

“Because you always say goodbye in a very cute manner and Bang seems like a cute name to capture that cuteness. Also, I gave him eyelashes! When you observe the details, he really looks like you right?”

When Sungjin finally notices the eyelashes, he bursts out laughing and you swore your heart nearly stopped. When he finally stopped laughing and took over the bear from you, he finally remembered the question he wanted to ask you.

“Y/N- ah…”

“Yes?”

“If I ask you out…will you say yes?”

Just to tease him a little, you decided to look up at the sky, and contemplate your answer for a little while.

“I don’t know…maybe?”

“You can’t do this to me! I waited so long to ask you this question!”

“Why did you wait so long then?”

“I had to wait till I graduated. It wouldn’t be right for a teacher to ask his student out right?”

“That’s true…but I still don’t know if I’d go out with you. How about we make a bet?”

“With what?”

“With a coin. You flip a coin and I’ll decide. Which side are you confident of getting?”

“Heads, I always flip a head.”

“Ok, go ahead then. Heads for I’ll go out with Park Sungjin and tails for…”

With utmost concentration, Sungjin flips the coin and slams his palm over it when it lands. Opening his palm, his face immediately becomes crestfallen: staring back at him was a tail.

But you haven’t finished your sentence yet.

“Tails for…I’ll still go out with you anyways!” you said, as you gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Really? You would?”

“Ask any more questions and I’ll reconsider.”

“Ok, ok I won’t ask any more questions! What do you want to eat?”

“Fried chicken!”

“Oh, I was betting that you’ll say fried chicken!”

“Betting on fried chicken is great Park Sungjin, but I'm betting on something else now.”

Sungjin turns to look at you and he says, "So, what are you betting on now?"

"I'm betting that you'll give me a kiss."

"Really? How are you so sure?"

"I know you Park Sungjin, I know you'll do it. So, am I getting a kiss or not?" 

Without another word, Sungjin closes the space between the both of you, so close that if either moved, your lips would touch. You closed your eyes and waited for the impact, but instead you felt something soft press into your forehead and you immediately smiled. 

"Not where I was expecting, but ok Sungjin."

"I'm saving the best for the last."

"I'm holding you accountable for that statement."

"You can bet your life on it that I'll fulfill it."

Not only was he your best bet, he was your favourite bet too.

[theladyofdeath]

Castaway. {ACOTAR/Chapter 4}

Word Count: 3,168

Summary:  A modern-day University AU, from the A Court of Thorns and Roses universe. All characters belong to Sarah J. Maas. The idea for this fanfic hailed from prompts sent in by Anonymous, and @queen-archeron. You can read previous chapters here.

Author’s Note: Decided to switch it up and add some scenes told buy our favorite baby bats. I want to remind all my (beautiful wonderful magnificent) readers, especially before we dive into the next few chapters, that this story deals with some sensitive content (see Castaway masterlist for details) and is intended for mature readers. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I would love to know what you all think! :)

September 5 – The day after I got punched in the face. Again.

I consider myself a forgiving person.

I don’t always come off as the nicest around, but I do my best.

I’ve been dealt an interesting hand – we all have.

And yet, we’ve tried our best to get away from our pasts. To move on. To make something of ourselves.

But my past keeps following me around.

Everywhere I go, he’s there.

It’s not that I’m scared of him. I’m not.

But my skin crawls at the sight of the him. Bile rises in my throat with every word that comes out his misogynistic, hypocritical mouth.

And the thought that he has someone like her – kind, smart, beautiful – the thought that he kisses her, beds her….

It’s revolting.

I don’t think I will ever get the sight out of my mind of her fear when he lost his temper.

Still waiting for the day karma comes to claim him.

 Sincerely,

Orphan boy

 Rhysand read over the rubric. Again.

Summary of project: Ten paintings, five by each member of the pair. They must be submitted by the deadline, November 1. This is part of your final, and will count as twenty percent of your final grade. Paintings will be added to your portfolio.

Guidelines: Each member must complete five paintings of their partner in various poses. No two paintings should look alike. Be creative. Do your best.

Rhys threw the paper across the room before he could read any more. Feyre wouldn’t even look at him for the remainder of the class period – how were they supposed to work together?

His head fell into his hands, causing him to flinch. Shit.

That morning, he had woken up to a pounding in his head and the loss of sight in his left eye, due to the swelling. He had a thousand reasons to hate Tamlin, and the night before was just the icing on top of the cake of utter hatred.

His roommate threw open his bedroom door, and froze at the sight of Rhysand sprawled out on the futon.

“Fuck, mate,” he said, eyes growing wide. “You look like shit.”

Rhysand blinked, with the one eye that could. “Thanks. So do you.”

Kallias glanced down at his red, silky boxers. “Viv got me these for Christmas last year. She thinks I look sexy in them.”

Rhys just grinned.

Kallias and his girlfriend, Viviane, had been together for nearly two years. Rhysand was waiting for the day he would ask her to marry him, and he knew it was coming. But, the two had been roommates since freshman year, and he would secretly be somewhat sad when the semester was over and the two would graduate, Kallias moving on to marry the love of his life and start a family. While Rhys will get his degree in architectural engineering……and that was it.

He had no more plans after that.

“Viv and I are going to dinner tomorrow night. Care to join?”

“And be the third wheel?” Again?

“Bring a date,” Kallias suggested. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

It had. Rhys hadn’t even kissed another girl since Amarantha – she had scarred him a bit too deeply. It’s not that he was in love with her. He loathed the woman. But, she kept coming back. And Rhys….he had trouble getting away. She was seductive, and captivating. Beautifully manipulative. After he had finally said goodbye, and considered her a part of the past, Rhys had a hard time getting close to women. He’d gone on a few dates, but didn’t take any of them back home with him.

“Who would I bring as a date?” Rhys scoffed.

He ignored the first face that popped into his mind as the throbbing in his eye worsened.

“Anyone. Come on, mate. It’ll be fun. You may even enjoy yourself.”

Rhysand grumbled. He couldn’t remember the last time he truly enjoyed himself. “I’ll think about it.”

He knew he was in a mood. He knew he was feeling sorry for himself, and probably seemed pathetic, but he couldn’t help it. Kallias didn’t seem to mind, though. He had seen Rhys at his best, and his worst. He gave his roommate a pat on the back before heading to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.

The door to their apartment swung open and Mor swept in. It was always a dramatic entrance with that one.

She took one look at Rhys before halting. “Your face.”

“I’ve noticed,” Rhys muttered.

“Did you at least hit him back?”

“No, I handled it like a mature adult,” Rhys proclaimed. “After telling him to fuck off and throwing a certain finger in his direction.”

Mor shook her head, suppressing a wistful smile. “What are we going to do with you?”

Rhysand threw his hands in the air. “I wasn’t the one throwing punches!”

“Good morning, Mor,” Kallias smiled, directing the conversation away from his mutilated face, to Rhysand’s relief.

The stares he had received on his way to class that morning were much different than the usual stares of adoration he typically received.  

“Good morning.” She openly observed his silk undies. “Viv certainly is a lucky lady, isn’t she. Is she here?”

“At work,” Kallias explained. “Should be here soon, though. She worked the night shift. She’s been doing a lot of overtime lately. She said they just hired a new nurse, though, so hopefully things will go back to normal. She’s exhausted.”

Mor frowned. “Hopefully. I haven’t seen her in weeks.”

“Morrigan,” Rhys interrupted, smiling when Mor grimaced at the use of her whole first name. “Not that I don’t love your unexpected presence, but aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

She rolled her eyes. “Cancelled. Professor got food poisoning.”

“And you didn’t have anything better to do than come stare at Kal in his silk panties?”

Kallias winked as Mor rolled her eyes at her older brother. “I’ve come with a note for you from a certain roommate of mine.”

Rhys sat up and grabbed the folded-up paper from in between Mor’s fingers. “Did you read it?”

Mor blinked. “Of course I read it.”

Kallias leaned over the back of the futon as Rhys opened it up, and read out loud, “We will meet at your apartment. I will be there tomorrow night at 11. We will begin then.” Kallias took the note and read it again, silently. “And here I was, thinking you haven’t gotten laid lately.”

Rhys snatched the note back and read it for himself. “I haven’t. It’s for a project.”

“Awfully secretive for a project,” Kallias crooned.

“That’s because she’s O’Brien’s girlfriend,” Mor informed him.

Kallias stared at Rhys. “She’s Tamlin’s girlfriend?”

Rhys nodded.

“As in the one who gave you that.” He gestured toward his roommate’s face. “Not to mention everything else the bastard has done.”

“Feyre isn’t to blame,” Rhys said, simply. “She probably doesn’t even know about……Tamlin’s cunning. He puts on a good show, we know that. But, yes – we got paired together in the elective I’m taking.”

Kallias whistled. “You’re entering dangerous territory.”

Rhys shrugged. “I stopped being scared of Tamlin a long time ago.”

“Why don’t you just drop the class?” Mor asked. “Or ask for a new partner?”

“That’s a bit much, don’t you think?” Rhys laughed. “It’s just an assignment. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Mor blinked. “Have you looked in the mirror today?”

Rhys rose to his feet and balled up the note, tossing it across the room into the garbage can in the kitchen. “Like I said. I’m not scared of Tamlin.”

 The fashion world was new for Azriel. He was a mechanic. His hands were calloused, and often dirty, considering he was used to working with grease and various automobile parts. It was always a relief when Elain gave him a task that didn’t have him handling the clothes…..He was always afraid he would ruin them in one way or another before they even made it onto a rack.

But today, he built shelves.

“It’s looking great, Elain.” Azriel glanced around The Fawn, admiring all the work they had put into the small boutique over the last month. “Have I mentioned how proud I am of you?”

He caught Elain blush just before she turned away from him, to hang up another dress on the rack. “Once or twice.”

“You deserve the praise,” he said, watching her for one second too long. “You’ve got a date tonight?”

“I do,” she faltered. “I’m thinking about wearing this. What do you think?”

Azriel watched as Elain lifted the knee-length, olive green dress up to her body. “I think you would look beautiful in that dress. But you will be beautiful in whatever you wear.”

Elain hesitated – Azriel caught the look in her soft, brown eyes as she stared at him. He told himself he should look away, but he didn’t. Neither of them said anything as they watched one another in the silence of the boutique, the humming of their air conditioning the only sound that could be heard above Azriel’s nervous breathing.

“Would you like to come over and help me get ready?” she asked, her voice quieter than it had been before he’d said what he did.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

He didn’t know why he said it. No, he didn’t want to help her get ready for a date with Lucien. He wanted to come over, hang out, and watch movies while they ate a bunch of junk like they usually did.

Neither of them said anything else as Azriel turned back toward the shelves he was hanging.

And as he attached the wooden shelves to the wall, he couldn’t help but think of all the other things he would like to do with Elain Archeron.

 Cassian waited.

He’d taken a cab because he didn’t want to bother Azriel, as he knew he was helping Elain at the boutique all afternoon.

After the cab dropped him off at the curb, he hobbled down the brick path, toward the center of the park, where a small pond was surrounded by trees and paths and benches.

On one of the benches sat an elderly couple. They were holding hands and whispering into each other’s ears. Cassian wondered if it had always been that way – if when you find the love of your life, every date is like the very first one.

The other bench had a homeless man sleeping on it. Cassian had removed his jacket and laid it over him. He didn’t even stir as Cassian went on his way after slipping a five-dollar bill that was left in his jeans into the man’s new coat pocket.

He’d occupied the last free bench, sitting just off the side of the main path, staring at the pond. There were ducks swimming, and he’d wished he had brought something to feed them while he waited.

He knew it was a lost cause. He knew there was a slim chance that she would actually show. But, he went anyway.

And he waited for her.

After thirty minutes passed, he had perfected a duck call to communicate with the furry, swimming birds.

After an hour passed, he had already scrolled through every social media feed on his phone at least twice.

After two hours passed, he attempted to balance one of his crutches in the palm of his hand. And failed fifteen times before becoming successful.

And, after two and a half hours had come and gone, Cassian rose to his healthy foot, and took the crutches under his arms.

He didn’t know what it was about her – Nesta Archeron – that made his palms sweaty, and his heart race at unhealthy levels. She was rude. She was incredibly difficult to talk to. And, she had not given him any indication that she had any sort of attraction to him.

Except when her slim fingers had lingered when she was helping him out of that damn hospital gown, and when she had blushed when he’d called her his future wife.

And yet, Cassian felt a tug in her direction. There was something about her that he couldn’t stop thinking about.

She was different.

But, after three hours, Cassian hobbled back down the brick path. He didn’t bother trying to get a cab before he hobbled two blocks back to Azriel’s apartment.

 Azriel knocked on her door just before seven.

“Come in!” he heard a soft, sweet voice from the other side.

A small, black cat greeted him as soon as he opened the door. “Hey, Shadow.”

The kitten gave him a soft meow before brushing up against his shins, and lying on his boots once Azriel had discarded them by the welcome rug.

“Elain?”

“Bedroom!” she called.

“Are you decent?” he called, and hated himself for the tingly feeling in his gut as he awaited her answer.

Elain laughed. “Yes, I’m decent. Come in!”

Once Azriel turned the corner that led into her bedroom, his mouth fell subtly open.

She looked stunning. The olive-green dress hugged her frame in all the right places. She wore a silver necklace that dangled in between the deep neckline of the dress, the long sleeves hiding the tattoo of a sunflower she had on her forearm.

Azriel loved that tattoo. He was there with her when she got it, and held her hand the entire time.

She caught his gaze in the reflection of her floor length mirror and smiled. “What do you think?”

Azriel cleared his throat as she turned to face him. “You look beautiful.”

Her smile deepened as she patted her mattress. “Sit. Help me with shoes.”

This wasn’t anything new. Azriel had helped her get ready for dates before, but it was early in their friendship. Elain hadn’t dated anyone for years. Neither had Azriel. Over time, he had come to care for Elain more and more.

He had begun to fall in love with her.

She was perfect. She was beautiful, smart, kind, graceful…..any man would be a fool not to see the beauty she had, inside and out.

But, they were friends. That’s how Elain saw him, and he didn’t want to mess that up. Didn’t want to destroy the bond that he cherished so much, that they had created between the two of them.

“How about the brown ones?” Azriel suggested, taking a seat on top of the fluffy, purple comforter.

“The wedges or the flats?”

Azriel blinked. “The…..brown ones.”

Elain laughed, taking two different brown shoes out of her closet. One had a thick heel, the other did not.

He pointed to the ones on the left, the ones with the heel.

“Wedges,” Elain confirmed, giving him a wink.

Azriel grinned. “Noted. Next time I’ll be sure to correctly label your shoes.”

Elain sat next to him as she strapped on her wedges. It was then that Azriel caught a better glimpse of the necklace she wore.

“It’s my favorite,” she said, when she caught him looking.

He’d gifted it to her for her birthday, the year after they had met. A small set of silver antlers hung from the chain.

“You reminded me of a deer,” Azriel said, and when Elain raised her brows, he continued with a smile. “Graceful. Beautiful. Peaceful. Could kick a guy in the face if feeling threatened.”

Her serious expression faded, and she began to giggle. “That’s true.”

“As long as it’s not me.”

“Don’t threaten me, then.”

Azriel smiled, and reached up to brush a curly lock of golden-brown hair back that had fallen from her braid. He froze, midway there.

Elain looked as if she’d stopped breathing.

Azriel let his hand fall back to his lap. “You…..a hair, um, fell loose.”

Alarm filling her eyes, Elain waltzed back to the mirror.

“Well,” Azriel stood, and rubbed the back of his neck. “I should get going. Cass has been gone all afternoon. I’m beginning to worry.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, giving him an encouraging smile through her reflection. “I’m sure he’s fine. Let me know when you find him?”

Azriel simply nodded before coming up behind her in the mirror.

They were complete opposites. Elain looked like a beaming ray of sunshine, while Azriel….

He was darkness. Thick, dark hair hung over his hazel eyes. His black jeans were ripped in the knees, and his black and gray plaid shirt revealed the tattoos on his forearms, on his chest. He wore fingerless gloves to hide the scars on his hands.

The only people who had ever seen his hands without the gloves were his family.

And Elain.

“Want to take Shadow for the night? She needs some love. I’ve been gone a lot lately.”

When she turned toward him, after fixing her braid, he nodded. “Of course.”

“Great.” She took one last look in the mirror, and he had to force himself to push his jealousy aside.

“You look perfect,” he promised, before backing back out into the hall. “Have fun, okay? Tell me how it goes.”

“I will,” she said, and maybe it was his imagination, but she almost seemed sad to watch him go.

After one last smile, Azriel turned around and walked away.

He didn’t look back as he grabbed Shadow, and his boots, and went back to his apartment across the hall.

Cassian was passed out on the couch when he entered, and Rhysand was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of leftover pasta from Azriel’s fridge.

Azriel blinked. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Rhys said, mouth full. “We just got here.” He motioned to Cassian with a nod of his head. “Caught him walking here from Harris Street Park. Chasing after some girl. Again.”

Azriel chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

Rhysand put down his fork, and lifted an eyebrow at his brother. “You don’t look so good. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Azriel promised, sounding much more confident than he really was. He set Shadow down on the floor before unbuttoning his plaid shirt, and throwing it in an armchair that sat in the corner.

“I don’t know why you don’t just ask her out,” Rhys said, taking yet another bite. “You two are made for each other.”

“She doesn’t see me like that,” was all he said.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Like that.”

Rhysand just shrugged, as Shadow curled into a ball under the table at his feet. “Never know until you try.”

But he wouldn’t try. Elain meant too much to him. He couldn’t lose her.

He didn’t deserve her, anyway. Elain Archeron was a rare gift in this cruel, obscene world. She deserved someone……better. Someone with a good job. And a good, normal family. And a nice car. And whatever else she had named that made Lucien seem perfect on paper.

She deserved someone that could give her everything she ever wanted.

And Azriel….

He was nobody. He didn’t make much. His car was crap and his family was beautiful, to him, but surely not normal. Not even his parents loved him. He didn’t even love himself.

So how could she?

Chapter 5 coming soon.

 @wingedillyrian @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @photofeesh @southern-by-gods-mercy @randomfanficshit @high-lady-of-perranth @ifinallygavein@xmanorianx @eleniherondale @eye-of-elena @feyreismeiamfeyre@littlehoneyybee @turtlesnook @willsrune @gcarroll@tiny1hallie @iwouldtrusthagridwithmylife @my-parabatai-is-a-herondale @highlady-of-slytherin @fireflyangelxx @theantisocialbookworm310 @redqueenfandom @aelinxfeyre @saybell1994 @nofantasynolife @priyahayes@fireheartbitch @live-the-fangirl-life @rishorro @literarynonsense @thebookqueen01 @highlady-of-night @beaches-and-books

[le-sejour]

Cookie Factory

Words: 2196

Pairing: Lafayette x Reader

World: Modern/College AU

Warnings: Casual mention of sex, but otherwise, none i believe. c:

Prompt from: @dailyau “You bake when you’re stressed and sometimes you give me cookies, but recently you’re giving me whole baskets each day, now I’m not complaining but are you okay?”

A/N: I saw this prompt and Laf stress baking popped into my head. :^) 

Enjoy~

Most people get excited at the thought of weekends, or the changing seasons, or seeing their loved ones after some time apart. Kids were usually excited for snowfall, and employees more or less looked forward to payday.

In college, it was a little harder to see such joy with thousands of disheveled, sleep-deprived students milling about. It was as if all jubilation or life was being sucked into a black hole.

However, you seemed to see excitement, even just a little bit, nearly everyday on campus; a group of students rejoicing a good grade on a project, that little gleam in someone’s eyes when they’re the first at the coffee stall, the low buzzing when a class realizes it’s only a few minutes left until their professor is officially declared absent.

Your friends were also a big factor in why you saw such enthusiasm in your life. They were quite excitable over many things–Alexander, especially. The man can find joy even in the smallest of victories, like snagging Jefferson’s unofficial official seat in class.

As for you? Now, this might sound scandalous but hear this out; you were actually kind of maybe looking forward to finals.

You smiled as you opened the locker you virtually shared with the ever charming Gilbert du Motier du Lafayette, finding a neatly wrapped box of fresh-from-the-oven chocolate chip cookies. You had given him your locker code for convenience, after a year of him trying to find you during finals week to hand you the precious little treats.

You sniffed the still-warm cookies before bringing one to your mouth. This always happens whenever deadlines loomed in the distance.

Your locker-mate was always so jittery around this time, which is why this glorious box of warmth and happiness was sitting in your hands. Lafayette often baked whenever he’s stressing out, which was mostly during midterms and finals. He claims his whole body feels too restless to concentrate on any of the material he’s studying for, so he takes to the kitchen.

He usually shares his creations with the gang, but he seems to always make an extra batch just for you. And who were you to complain? You get free sugar during the hell weeks to come, and indirectly stop your friend from ripping his hair out.

You stared in absolute confusion at the large tubs of cookies sitting in your locker.

Now, you weren’t trying to look a gift horse in the mouth, and you usually scoffed whenever anyone told you that there was such a thing as too much of a good thing. Because food is always a good idea, and you were a very hungry, very tired, very stressed out college student.

But this was too much. It’s ridiculous. It’s madness.

There were two large buckets of cookies in your locker. Two. Large. Buckets. Filled to the brim with fluffy chocolate chip cookies. It had been this way since the first box of baked goods a couple of weeks ago, but this is the first time he actually managed to fill up two whole tins. What was Laf doing? Is he secretly producing goods for a wholesale supplier? Your books were practically non-existent now!

Actually…

You scooted the tubs to the side–with a little difficulty, mind you–and exhaled slowly.

Your books were practically non-existent because they were gone.

There was only one person who had access to this locker, and you were pretty sure said person was holding your books hostage. You slammed the locker closed, before quickly opening it again.

Okay, so you weren’t really mad.

You scooped a couple of cookies from one of the containers and munched on one. Your next class didn’t start until after lunch, and it was only 10am. Plenty of time to gather your books from your clearly very frazzled friend.

“Hey, are you selling those?”

You turned around in surprise, cookie still in your mouth, seeing a group of students (Freshmen, maybe? They didn’t look like they wanted to die just yet) peering into your locker.

“Uh… S-…ure?”

“Awesome! How much are you charging?”

Huh.

Well, like you said, you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Laf, we need to talk.”

You were now sitting in front of the man who single-handedly turned your locker into some kind of black market cookie factory. Turns out, those kids who bought a handful of the cookies attracted more exhausted students looking to get their sugar fix on the way to class. It even got enough traction that at some point, someone from the administration was sent to put a stop to your little unlicensed business, but ended up buying a couple of the treats himself.

All in all, it was a pretty wild ride and ultimately delayed you from seeking out your book kidnapper.

“Chérie, not now, I have a paper due at 4pm and I have no idea how to conclude it.”

“Laf, I know you bake when you’re stressed and sometimes-“ You coughed ‘always’ into your hand “-you give me cookies, but recently you’re giving me whole baskets each day.”

You don’t know what did it, but you seemed to have the tanned man’s undivided attention now. You squinted at him, seeing how the color drained from his face, and how his eyes seemed to scream for help. It was hilarious, if not for the dirty hobo look he was sporting. His beard seemed scruffier than usual, and his cute little man bun was beginning to droop.

So you decided to proceed cautiously.

“Now, I’m not complaining but are you okay?”

After long stare off between you two, he cleared his throat, turning back to his laptop. “I’m fine, ma belle. Like you said, I am very stressed. I have 3 deadlines this week and I haven’t-“

“You know you bounce your leg up and down when you lie, right?”

His face colored at being caught, an awkward laugh escaping his soft, plump lips. “Okay, I lied. I have 2 deadlines-“

“Gilbert.”

His breath hitched as you enunciated his name like that. God, he could listen to you all day. Not to mention you were really adorable when you were trying to figure him out. He found himself stifling a smile despite the situation, before remembering why he’s been mass-producing sugary treats the past few weeks.

“You do know how whipped you sound, right?”

“Eh… Whipped, mon ami?”

“Under her spell. Smitten. Infatuated.”

“I… Oui, I suppose that’s how I sound, isn’t it?”

“And look. You do realize you have this really weird smile whenever you talk about her. It’s kinda creepy.”

“Ah… Do I?”

“Yes! I’ve never seen you look so dopey about a girl. And not just any girl, the other mom friend in our group. Y’know, besides Eliza. It’s a little weird.”

Sigh.

“You don’t have to repeat it, mon petit tortue, I remember vividly. It is why I was hesitant to bring it up in the first place. It might ruin what we have.”

“No, don’t listen to John-““-Hey!-”“-Laf, if you like her, go get her. What are you waiting for?”

And so that’s how he found himself with quite the dilemma. Finals was coming up and he had a plethora of deadlines he had to worry about, but all he could think about was you. That little laugh you do when you’re sending Alexander the dumbest memes you could find, the look of concentration you have whenever Hercules asked for you opinion on his portfolio, that silly good luck dance you and John invented before passing your term papers.

But he couldn’t make any sort of move on you, he knew that. If things didn’t work out between you two, your friendship would already be too sullied to save. He’s been playing and replaying scenarios in his head of how things could go wrong that it practically gave him nightmares once or twice. He knew it would cause an awkward rift between the boys and you and the Schuyler sisters. Even if they say they won’t, he knew sides would still be taken.

Dating within your own circle was just asking for so much trouble.

Which is why he’s been in the kitchen way more than normal, and way past the reasonable time to be making sweets. Every time he’s finished up the last batch of something, the gears in his mind would go off and in turn, the gears in his stand mixer would go on yet again. A vicious cycle.

“-rt. Gilbert?”

“Oui? Ah, je suis desolée, mon chou. I did not mean to space out like that.”

“What’s wrong, Lafa?” Damn it. You knew he couldn’t resist it when you used that nickname. It was your own nickname for him, no one else has or can call him that. “You’ve been weird, lately. C’mon, spill.”

He felt his heart melt at the sight of you, his resolve quickly wearing away. There you were across from him in your nondescript sweats and university hoodie, looking so genuinely concerned for his wellbeing. The way your brow was furrowed almost made him chuckle.

This was why it was so easy to fall in love with you. You were natural and genuine and real. He could very easily see your flaws as well as your merits, and that just sealed the deal for him.

Here goes nothing.

“Tu es la lumière de ma vie,” (“You are the light of my life,”) He exhaled, his hand impulsively reaching out to yours. Well, there was no going back now. Whatever your reaction was, he’d have to live with it. “I cannot seem to find the right words to tell you how much I appreciate your presence in my life, [N/Name]. Excusez-moi.”

He stood up to scoot his chair closer to you, bringing your hand up to his chest.

You stared at him in surprise, your own heart matching the rapid beating of his.

This… This was not what you expected when you came to look for your friend. Or, you guess friend isn’t the right term for him, anymore, is it? A slight blush bloomed beneath your cheeks; you suddenly became hyperaware of how warm his hand over yours was, and how hard his heart was beating in his chest.

“Lafa, I-“

“Non, mon amour. Please, do not think you have to return my feelings. I simply ask that you do not turn me away as your friend.”

Silence enveloped you as you tried to wrap your mind around the whole situation. This was insane. If someone told you weeks ago that Lafayette, one of your closest friends, actually romantically likes you, you’d have laughed in their face. Now, you weren’t sure what to do.

You wouldn’t deny the crush you’ve developed on him the first time you met. He was handsome, and silly, and quite passionate in his endeavors. But eventually, you found yourself drawn to him by the way he treats people, even when said people were Alexander’s rivals. He didn’t fold in on himself when faced with a delicate situation or a difficult decision. He was steadfast, loyal, and levelheaded; traits you deeply admired in your whirlwind of a life.

But the question still stands, and there was only one way to find out.

You bit your lip. “Will you still make me cookies?”

He laughed; a relieved, sincere thing that made your stomach flip out in a way it hasn’t before.

“As many as you want, chérie.”

“And you promise not to turn our locker into some sort of underground pastry shop?”

His heart skipped a beat at your use of the term ‘our’, the sides of his eyes crinkling as the smile on his lips widened.

“Je promets, ma belle femme.”

“Well, I guess there’s only one logical end to this situation.” You pulled your hand away from his. “I don’t want to be friends anymore-”

“Oui, I-“

“-because I want to try being something more.”

Anything else you had to say was quickly silenced by Lafayette’s chest. You could hear the deep rumbling of his laughter from your position pressed against him, and you couldn’t help but give a giggle of your own. You stayed that way for a while. After the laughter has subsided and contented silence settled upon the two of you, you continued to remain in his arms as he resumed typing out his term paper.

You ended up missing class that afternoon, finding yourself too giddy to even focus on anything but your current situation. The Frenchman eventually noticed the energy buzzing from your body, a small smile creeping up on him.

“You know what we can do with all that energy, oui?”

“Sex?”

“Baking, chérie, baking.” You have never seen him look that scandalized in your life, it was hilarious. “You have been hanging around Hercules far too much, naughty chaton.”

You laughed, watching him put away his things so you could both grab something to eat.

“But, you know… If we fucked, you would have a different way to relieve stress, other than filling my locker to the brim with enough baked goods to feed a battalion.”

“Chérie.”

FIN

[three-drink-amy]

Like You Made Me Feel When We Were 18

Amy and Jake were the perfect couple all through high school until suddenly, they broke up. Twelve years later, they’re running into each other for the first time, realizing how much they’ve changed and maybe finding things that haven’t changed at all.

Warning: It is 20k! Brevity is not my strong suit. 

Amy got to the apartment later than she'd planned. She'd originally planned to be a little bit late because Kylie told her she didn't want her help setting up. But she hadn't accounted for traffic and now she was way later than her already planned late arrival. Having just moved back to New York, Amy was still getting used to it again. So by the time Amy arrived, the party was in full swing.

Amy was welcomed by a wall of sound made up of music, yelling, laughter, and cheers. Thankfully, Kylie was near the door when Amy entered. “Amy!” she yelled. “You made it!”

“Yeah, sorry I’m late!” Amy replied. “Still not used to New York traffic.”

“Doesn't matter. You're here!” Kylie screamed over the noise. She turned when she heard her name being called. “Oh, it's my turn for beer pong!” She explained. “Food’s over there and beer is in the fridge!” she yelled as she ran to go take her turn. Amy shook her head, laughing at her friend as she headed off to the kitchen to grab a beer.

Amy opened the fridge and found a shocking amount of beer stashed there. She was bent down to grab herself one when she heard someone talking to her. “Mind grabbing another one while you're in there?” Amy grabbed a second and stood up to hand it to the other party-goer. Amy’s heart all but stopped when she turned to look at the person standing in front of her. She hadn't seen him in 12 years. It somehow felt like a century and yet no time at all. “Jake?” She asked, noting that he looked as shocked as she felt.

“Amy?” He replied, dumbfounded. “What are you doing here?”

“Kylie is my best friend. She insisted I had to come since I just moved back here,” Amy answered, standing at a distance. “Why are you here?”

“She's my partner,” he explained, gesturing to the room. Amy looked around, noting the amount of cops that were likely in the room.

They stood in silence. The tense, awkward silence that comes from seeing the person you loved at 18 for the first time in over a decade. Amy had imagined a lot of different ways that she and Jake would meet again, but at one of Kylie’s crazy parties was never one of the ideas. Amy couldn't help but stare at Jake, noting the way he’d changed in 12 years. He seemed taller somehow. His cheeks had hollowed some, his jawline was more defined. He certainly had a more mature look to him that only age could provide. He looked good. Even more handsome than the boy Amy had fallen for all those years ago.

Jake cleared his throat. “So, uh, you said you moved back recently? Have you been living in Rhode Island all this time?”

Amy opened her beer to give her something to do. “No,” she answered as she worked on the lid. “I moved back here after I left Brown, but my mom got sick a few years back and so I moved to Pennsylvania.”

Jake furrowed his brow. “What, to get away from her being sick?”

Amy shook her head. “Oh no, my parents moved there while I was in college. So I moved there to take care of her because my dad needed to be working.”

Jake nodded in understanding. Suddenly a sad look crossed his face. “Oh, and you just moved back. I’m so sorry, Amy.”

Amy was confused for a moment. “She didn't die!” She explained quickly. “She recovered and is healthy again. She’s doing well. But my parents could tell I didn't like living there so they pushed me to move back here.”

“Ah,” Jake replied. “Well good. I’m glad she’s doing well. I always liked your mom,” Jake added with a smile.

Amy returned the smile. “Yeah.” She paused as she thought back to old times. “Well, you didn't like her so much there at the end.” Jake’s expression became tense and somehow even more guarded than it had before. Amy cleared her throat. “That was a weird thing to say. I apologize. It's just so weird seeing you again. You know?”

Jake nodded his head, taking a quick drink of his beer. “Yeah, I do know.”

Amy wanted to get away from awkward topics. “So you became a cop! Just like you always wanted!”

Jake noticeably perked up. “Yeah! It's awesome!”

“Is it everything you dreamed it would be?”

Jake stared at Amy for a beat longer than normal. “Yeah, I got everything I wanted. It's great.” He played with the label on his beer bottle. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I teach history,” Amy informed him. She knew didn't exactly come across as exuberant about it.

“Yeah? And how is that?”

Amy shrugged. “It's good I guess. I mean I like my job, but I am still getting used to the new location. I teach at this super preppy private school in Manhattan. It's awful. Everyone is so entitled.”

Jake chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds awful. You should have applied at our old school.”

Amy burst out laughing. “I actually did. They turned me away. Wouldn't even give me an interview.”

Jake gaped at her. “What? Precious Amy Santiago?”

Amy rolled her eyes at him. “Well Holt isn't there anymore and the new person didn't get how beloved I was at that school.” Jake smirked as he took a drink from his beer. “You’ll never guess who the new principal is.” Jake quirked an eyebrow. “They hired from the alumni. Keith Pembroke is now the principal.”

Jake looked aghast. “No way! They hired that jerk?”

Amy nodded, happily noting that she and Jake seemed to have fallen into a comfortable rhythm. “Yeah, the secretary happily walked my portfolio back to the principal and he walked out of his office, took one look at me, another look at the name on my resume to be sure, and told me I could get the hell out.” Jake gaped at her. “Honestly, I was ready to leave from the moment he walked out of the principal’s office anyway.”

Jake shook his head as he laughed at her story. Kylie was finally finished with her beer pong game and walked over to talk to Amy. “Hey, having fun? I just killed at beer pong!” Amy shook her head humoredly at her friend. “Oh Amy, this is my partner, Jake,” Kylie said, needlessly introducing them.

Jake smirked. “Yeah, we’ve met,” Amy said with a laugh.”

Kylie looked between them. “Wait. Do you two know each other? When did you meet?”

“In Miss Murphy’s sixth grade homeroom,” Jake answered.

Kylie looked between them in shock. “You two went to school together?”

“Middle school through high school,” Amy confirmed.

Kylie looked over at Jake with a weird look in her eye. She looked as though she was thinking hard about something. Suddenly, her gaze turned to Amy. “Wait a minute. Is he Jake?”

Jake looked confused. “How much have you had to drink, Kylie? Yes, I’m your partner Jake.”

Amy knew what Kylie was saying though. Hours upon hours of her college days where Amy cried over Jake came flashing back to her. She started to shake her head discreetly, but she was almost certain that in Kylie’s current state, she wouldn't catch on.

“No, I mean is he Jake, Jake? Like your high school boyfriend that you cried about for --”

“Kylie!” Amy stopped her. “Yes, we dated in high school.”

Kylie burst out laughing. “What are the odds that your high school boyfriend became my partner on the force?”

Amy grimaced, hoping she was passing it off as a smile. “Yeah, I’ve been mentally doing the math on that one.”

“Oh that is fantastic,” Kylie mused. “What a small world.”

“That's one way of putting it,” Jake said tensely.

Blessedly, someone called Kylie over to play more beer pong. She gave Amy a wink and ran out of the kitchen. Amy rolled her eyes as she watched her friend leave. This was already awkward enough without drunk Kylie. Amy cleared her throat pointedly. “So do you still talk to anyone from school?” Amy asked.

Jake nodded, taking another drink of his beer. “Yeah, I see Charles pretty regularly. He's a food critic for a small magazine here. It's hilarious. I actually got Gina a job at the precinct so I see her literally everyday. Talk to Rosa occasionally and when she’s in town, she’ll make a point of seeing us. What about you?”

Amy stared at Jake, certain that her hurt was displayed on her face. “I don't talk to anyone. I guess you got our friend group in the breakup. None of them have talked to me since the afternoon before we broke up.”

Jake made an awkward face. “I mean I don't talk to them that much. I barely even know them anymore,” he lied.

Amy shot him a small smile. “Jake, it's fine. I don't care. Let's be real, you were never gonna shake Charles.” Jake laughed heartily, reminding Amy of late nights spent together laughing over everything and nothing. Without even meaning to, they spent the rest of Kylie’s party going back and forth between catching up and laughing over high school memories.

--

Amy sat nervously in her desk, hating her parents for sending her to a new school for the start of sixth grade. She fidgeted with her pencils, lined up neatly on her desk. Just then the boy next to her reached over and gracelessly messed up her pencils. Amy felt affronted, ready to tell this boy off. She was mad that homeroom hadn't even officially begun and she already had an enemy.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, leaning over in his desk to straighten her pencils for her. “I was trying to get your attention and I slipped and hit your pencils,” he explained.

Amy stared at him curiously. “Why were you trying to get my attention?”

“You're new here, aren't you?” the boy asked.

“Is it that obvious?” Amy asked shyly.

He shook his head. “No, just that I recognize almost everyone else from fifth grade. But not you. What's your name?”

Amy sat a little straighter in her seat. “I’m Amy Santiago.”

He nodded. “Noice. I'm Jake Peralta.” Amy nodded back at him. Miss Murphy called the class to attention and Amy didn't talk to Jake again till lunch.

She walked around nervously with her tray, wondering where she should sit on her first day at a new school. Amy was walking past a table where three people were sitting. She hadn't even noticed Jake sitting there until he called her name.

“Amy Santiago!” He called. Amy looked over at him with a start. “Sit with us,” he said kindly. Amy looked over at his friends. One was a small boy with dark brown hair and a kind smile. The other was a girl with perfect makeup and a critical expression. Amy hated that she felt intimidated by her. Jake stared at Amy, allowing her time to decide. Amy looked over to the other tables. So far, Jake was really the only person who’d reached out to her. Amy smiled and nodded, setting her tray down at their table as she introduced herself to Jake’s friends.

--

“Seriously?” Amy asked incredulously. “You got called into work on a Sunday?” Kylie groaned into the phone. Amy grimaced. She hadn't had too much to drink the night before but she knew Kylie had to be incredibly hungover.

“Look, can you help me out or not?” Kylie whimpered.

Amy chuckled. “Yes. I’ll bring you medicine.”

“Ahh thank you,” Kylie said with a groan. “I love my job but I hate it so much. There is no way I can think critically right now and track down some killer.”

“Just do your best,” Amy encouraged.

Amy regretfully changed out of her sweats and headed to the 99th precinct. She arrived at the station and headed toward the closing elevator. “Hold the door!” she yelled, hoping someone would hear her. A hand flung out of the elevator, stopping the doors from closing. Amy sped up to get in the elevator, and then stopped in her tracks as soon as she saw the person holding the elevator.

“Oh my God. Amy Santiago?”

Amy smiled. “Charles Boyle!” Charles reached out and hugged Amy tightly. “Wow, Charles it’s been so long. How are you?”

“I’m great!” Charles cried. “Ugh, it's so good to see you. What brings you here?”

“My friend needs some medicine because she’s ridiculously hungover,” Amy explained. “So I’m here to be Kylie’s savior.”

Charles gasped. “Kylie? Oh Amy, I feel like I should warn you. Jake actually works here. That's why I’m here. Isn’t it gonna be uncomfortable?”

Amy smiled kindly at Charles. “That’s okay. I know Jake works here. I actually saw him last night.”

“You did?” Charles asked. “I wonder why he didn't tell me about that.”  

Amy shook her head humoredly at Charles. “Maybe because they all got called in today,” Amy mused.

Charles looked at Amy skeptically. “Sure, let's say it's that.”

The elevator dinged at the fourth floor and the doors opened, revealing a number of detectives sitting at their desks. Kylie was somehow the only one not at her desk. Amy walked over to the desk with Kylie’s name on it. She looked over to see Jake sitting at the desk directly across from Kylie’s. He looked up as he saw Amy approach.

“Amy. What brings you by?”

She held up a bottle of medicine with a knowing look. Jake laughed. “Yeah, she seemed a little off today.” He pointed toward the hall. “She’s down the hall in an observation room because it was dark and quiet.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “How is she even functioning today?”

“An excellent question,” Jake laughed.

Amy smirked, before looking just past Jake to where Charles was standing with a look of awe on his face. Jake saw Amy’s gaze and turned to see Boyle standing there, holding the bag of food he’d brought for Jake with the same dopey look Amy had noticed. “Charles?”

Charles shook his head, shaking himself out of his reverie. “Sorry, it's just like old times,” he explained. Jake visibly tensed. Amy started to feel uncomfortable.

“Well I’m going to go find Kylie,” Amy said, turning to leave.

“Amy, it was just so great to see you again,” Charles yelled her way. Amy turned back and smiled and nodded. She walked out of earshot of Charles freaking out to Jake.

Amy found Kylie in a dark room with her eyes covered and a bag of ice on her head. Amy stifled a laugh as she approached her friend. “Hey,” she whispered.

“Amy, please don’t yell,” Kylie pled. Amy nodded though she knew Kylie couldn’t see her.

“Did we maybe party just a bit too hard?” Amy asked, hoping all judgment was out of her tone.

Kylie pulled down the cloth covering her eyes so she could properly glare at Amy. “Rude.” She covered her eyes again. “I wasn’t supposed to work today. But things happen.”

Amy sat the bottle of medicine down next to Kylie, backing away from her slowly. “Well, there’s your medicine. I’m gonna head out.”

“Oh, are you hurrying to go see my partner?” Kylie asked. Amy couldn’t even see her full face, but she knew what expression Kylie was wearing.

“Ha, ha,” Amy deadpanned. “You aren’t as funny as you think you are. So I dated him 12 years ago. Whatever.”

“And then cried about him off and on for the first four that I knew you,” Kylie reminded her.

“It wasn’t a full four years,” Amy defended. “I dated in college.”

Kylie sat up, clearly feeling well enough for a spirited debate. “Don’t say you dated. You went on a couple dates here and there. All with different guys. No one ever made it past two or three dates.”

“Don’t you think that says more about the guys than me?” Amy asked.

“No, I think it means that you were still hung up on the last real boyfriend you’d had. The one that things ended badly with,” Kylie explained. “That’s why it was senior year and you were having a grade A freak out and said that you wondered what would have happened if you and Jake hadn’t broken up.”

“Okay, fine,” Amy conceded. “Maybe senior year, I still wondered what if, but it’s been 12 years Kylie. Don’t you think if I was still hung up on Jake I would have done something about it by now?”

Kylie looked at her knowingly. “Unless you were too scared that he’d turn you down.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “I came here to be nice, not to be interrogated, Detective. I’m going to go back home and get into my pajamas because I can.” Kylie glared at her as Amy turned and walked out.

Amy walked back down the hall towards the bullpen, wanting to get out of the precinct and back into her cozy apartment as fast as she could. She knew, though, that if Charles was still in the building, her arrival back home would likely be delayed.

“Gina, see?” she heard Charles exclaim as she walked in sight. Amy looked over and spotted Gina sitting at a desk located behind Jake and Kylie’s desk clump.

“Gina?” Amy asked, walking toward her. “Wow, it’s so good to see you.”

“I know it is,” Gina replied without looking up from her phone. She said nothing else to Amy. Amy looked over at Charles and Jake with a confused expression. Jake just shook his head and Charles looked disappointed in Gina.

“Come on, Gina,” he said, walking toward Amy. “It’s Amy! We haven’t seen her in over a decade.”

“Then it’s been a good decade, I guess,” Gina answered, still not looking up at them. Amy rolled her eyes. In school, Gina had always been the one to go against her. She got along well with everyone else and so did Amy. But for some reason, the two of them never clicked. They’d gotten along on a surface level for the sake of their friend group, but hardly ever was time spent just the two of them. Amy didn’t know why she expected it to be any different 12 years later.

“Gina,” Jake scolded.

“No, it’s fine,” Amy replied, waving Jake and Charles off.

“I just always knew that one day she’d come crawling back,” Gina said, finally looking up at her phone. She fixed Amy with the most disapproving glare. Amy matched it. For the first time in her life, Amy actually didn’t care what Gina thought. And it was a freeing feeling.

“Well, Charles,” Amy said, pointedly ignoring Gina, “It was so great to see you again. Maybe we can catch up soon?” Charles nodded emphatically. Amy smiled at him. Amy walked toward the elevator. “Jake, it was great to see you again too.” Jake waved to her as she walked by, returning an awkward smile.

As the elevator doors closed on Amy, she relished the idea of spending the rest of the day alone.

--

By the time that high school began, Rosa had joined the group and they were a very tight-knit clan. The summer before school started, the five of them spent plenty of nights hanging out, often musing about what high school would really be like. Jake hoped that he would be considered a cool kid there too. Gina just knew that she would be. Charles hoped that the food in the lunchroom would improve. Amy hoped that the classes would really challenge her. And Rosa just hoped no one really talked to her too much.

The last weekend before school was to start, the five of them had gathered for their last summer hangout. Slowly, the group disbanded. Amy and Jake were the last two there, sitting in the park, looking up at the stars.

Jake looked over at Amy, wondering if he should voice his thoughts. He looked back up at the sky, staring at the stars shining down on them. For such a simple activity, looking at the stars always brought Jake pleasure. The sky made him feel like the universe was so big and his problems were so small. Finally, he cleared his throat and let his vulnerability show.

“Amy,” he asked softly. She turned over and looked at him. Even in just the moonlight, she was still the prettiest girl he’d ever met in person. “Are you scared to start high school?”

Amy frowned at his question. “No. Do you think I should be?”

Jake shook his head quickly. “No, not at all. I was just curious.” He turned back to look at the sky again. He’d been stupid to bring it up.

“Jake,” Amy asked in the same soft voice Jake had used. He looked back at her. “Are you scared of starting school?”

“No,” He insisted. After a pause, he said, “No?” It was more of a question. “I don’t know. Maybe I am. It’s just so much change. You know, we’re gonna start driving and then we’re going to go to college and then we’ll be adults and have to know what we want to do with our lives.”

Amy chuckled softly. “Okay, things are going to change, but there’ll be some good changes too. I mean for your first point, we live in New York. We’re not really going to start driving soon.” Jake laughed, accepting her argument. “And yeah the idea of college seems scary but I have two brothers there right now and they think it’s the best.” Jake nodded, looking at her. “And I don’t know why you’re worried about becoming an adult because you already know what you want to do! You want to be a cop!” Amy reminded him.

Jake smiled at her memory. “Yeah, we’re gonna be cops together.”

Amy nodded with a laugh. “Definitely. We’ll be the best cops in all of New York City.” She reached out and touched Jake’s hand where it sat between them. “Look, I know moving on to the next stage is scary. I mean I’m worried about it. What if I was only smart for middle school but not for high school?” Jake flashed her a disapproving look. “Okay, okay,” she said, waving him off. “But the point is, we’ll all be there together, right? So it’s not going to be as scary because we’ll have all of our friends going through it with us. It seems a lot better than splitting off and going to different schools.”

Jake nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a good point. I can’t imagine going through this without you guys.”

Amy smiled and nodded. “We’re always going to be here, Jake,” Amy promised. “Especially me.”

--

By the time Kylie’s shift was ending, Amy was still fuming from her day at work. She called Kylie the moment she knew she’d be off work. Her friend was always the best person to vent to. It only rang once before Kylie picked up.

“Hey! What's up?”

“You’re a cop,” Amy started, still angrily pacing around her apartment. “I need you to tell me the consequences for murder!”

“Wow, rough day?” Kylie asked in a joking manner.

Amy groaned. “You could say that. Yesterday, I had to reprimand one of my students. So naturally today I got yelled at by his parents and then my boss. So it's just been a super day.”

“So they don't do that thing anymore where the teacher is right?” Kylie asked.

“No,” Amy replied. “They do this new thing where the lazy asshole teenager is right no matter what.” Amy could scream she was still so mad. “And apparently this kid can do no wrong in his parents’ eyes and apparently their pockets run deep and they're generous to the school. So naturally, I was in the wrong for reprimanding my student. Stupid prep schools. I should have known better.”

There was a long pause before Kylie replied. “So what do you want to do? Wanna drink?”

Amy thought it over quickly. “Yeah, I could use a drink.”

“Great!” Kylie cheered. “The squad is all going to Shaw’s so you should meet us there. You don't live too far from there.”

Amy drew back. The squad? “Oh that's okay, I don't want to interrupt your work hangout.”

“Dude, we go out all the time.”

“Still,” Amy maintained

“Is this because of Jake?” Kylie questioned.

“It's weird,” Amy insisted.

“No it's not. So you guys have dated? Big whoop. You still seem to get along. Even if things ended as badly as you say,” Kylie retorted.

“I just don't want him to think I moved back and now i’m not leaving him alone,” Amy explained weakly.

She could picture Kylie rolling her eyes. “You’re an idiot. Just come on. I’m hanging up. Meet me there. Bye!”

Amy groaned. Of course Kylie would back her into a corner like this. Sighing dramatically, Amy stomped back to her room to change out of her sweats. She hated the part of her that tried to look cute.

Amy found Shaw’s easily enough. Kylie was right, she didn’t live too far away. She wasn’t sure what to expect when she walked into the bar, but she surely wasn’t expecting Kylie to already be fairly far along in her drinking.

“Amy!” Kylie yelled when Amy walked into the bar. Amy grimaced, realizing how the night would actually go. Amy smiled sadly and walked toward her friend.

“How much have you had to drink?” Amy asked bluntly.

“Not that much,” Kylie lied. “Except that Johnson asked me to do some shots with him so obviously I had to,” she added.

Amy rolled her eyes, approaching the bar with Kylie. “So you’re already hammered?”

Kylie gasped in offense. “Hammered? I am offended!” With a loud hiccup, Kylie wrinkled her nose. “I still wouldn’t say hammered. Just...having fun.”

Amy shook her head with disappointment. “Whatever.” She turned to the bartender. “I’ll have a beer.”

Kylie was looking in another direction when Amy turned back to her. Kylie looked at her with a mischievous expression on her face. “Do you want to play darts?”

Amy stared at her with a blank look. “No. I came here to talk, not play darts.”

“But I really wanna play darts,” Kylie whined. Amy shook her head, not a fan of this side of Kylie.

“Hey Kylie,” someone called from behind them. “I’ll play darts with you!” Kylie cheered and went off to play darts with them, not even sparing a word for Amy.

Amy stared after her friend with a dumbfounded expression. What had just happened? Not a full hour ago, Kylie was encouraging Amy to come out to vent about her bad day. And now Kylie was blowing her off. If Amy hadn’t ordered a drink already, she’d have just left.

Amy sighed as she sat down on a stool at the bar. Reaching out and taking a long pull from her beer, Amy debated how quickly she could leave. She looked over when someone sat down next to her. Amy smiled at Jake, raising her bottle in toast.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he asked.

Amy rolled her eyes before pointedly looking over at Kylie. “Well I came here to vent to my best friend and she got drunk in the time it took me to get here. So...not great.”

Jake looked over at Kylie with a small laugh. “Yeah, that sounds about right?”

“Does she seriously do this in front of her colleagues?” Amy wondered aloud.

Jake nodded. “Yep. She gets sloppy really easily. And is usually pretty unashamed about it.”

Amy shook her head. “God, this feels just like going to parties with her in college. She’d promise me that I got to be the one to drink and then she’d get sloshed before I even finished my first drink.” Jake was looking at Amy with a weird look. “What?”

Jake smirked. “Nothing, I’m just trying to picture you at a college party. I can’t do it. I can’t picture you trying to get wild.”

Amy glared at him. “Hey, I can get wild when I want to.”

“You? You who used to freak out when we drank because you were so sure that we would all get arrested?” Jake reminded her.

Amy rolled her eyes. “I was 16. I obviously have changed since then.”

“Fine,” Jake teased, “Match Kylie, drink for drink.”

“Well I’m obviously not going to do that,” Amy retorted. Jake laughed. “But not because I can’t get wild, like you have accused me, but because I’m going to have to be the one who make sure she gets home and doesn’t die.”

“You’re a good friend,” Jake remarked.

“Yeah,” Amy replied. “I’m the good friend who comes to vent about her bad day and ends up being the DD instead.”

“What was so bad?” Jake asked. He fixed her with a pointed glance. “Having boy troubles?” Amy grimaced. “Yeah, I don’t know why I said that,” Jake said in response to her expression.

Amy smirked. “I mean I am, yeah.” Jake looked uncomfortable. “A teenage boy with a bad attitude and rich asshole parents wrapped around his finger.”

For the slightest second, Jake looked relieved. Amy didn’t want to examine it too much. “So work is rough?”

Amy nodded. “Yeah. I apparently can’t reprimand my students if they have rich parents who give lots of money to the school. The worst part is, my boss got involved, told me to back down. And the kid is obviously going to know that his parents stepped in. I’ve lost all my control. I’m not going to be able to get him to do anything ever again because he’ll just send his parents in if he doesn’t want to do it.”

Jake sighed. “Yikes. That’s rough for sure.” He sat there thoughtfully for a second. Suddenly, he turned to Amy with an excited look in his eyes. “Okay, here’s what you do!” Amy laughed at his excitement. “You come up with this super tedious assignment for the whole class. Then you email the class, except for this kid and you say “Oh by the way, I forgot to say that this is just extra credit. But the other sections have to do it for real, so don’t talk about it being extra credit or you’ll have to do it for real too.” And then you’ll get him.”  

Amy laughed hysterically. “So you want me to use Charles’s tactics?” Jake looked at her with a confused expression. “You know, when Charles asked all of us to go to dinner with him and Vivian and then called us all and told us not to come?”

Jake burst out laughing at the memory. “You want to know the funniest part of that? That was actually my idea!”

Amy closed her eyes and nodded slowly. “Of course it was.”

Jake smiled, taking a drink of his beer. “Man, we had a lot of fun didn’t we?” Amy smiled and nodded thoughtfully. “I mean, I’m not one of those people who misses high school or whatever.”

“Right,” Amy agreed. “You’re not insane.”

He laughed. “Exactly. But we did have good times. When the five of us all spent time together, it was a good time.”

Amy nodded in agreement, taking a sip of her beer. “Like the time we all snuck out to Charles’s parents’ beach house.”

Jake laughed. “Yes! Or the time that we threw that party because Gina and I actually got passable scores on our SATs!”

“Or remember the time that I tried to make my grandma’s Arroz con Pollo for the potluck in our spanish class?” Amy mused.

“The spanish class that  you took to humiliate us all?” Jake asked pointedly.

“I was taking really hard classes that year. I needed an easy A!” Amy defended. Jake laughed, shaking his head. “But I made you be my taste tester and you claimed I was poisoning you so we made Charles come over and make it for me.”

Jake laughed. “Yes! He was so shocked you couldn’t cook that he offered to give you lessons.” Amy shook her head in laughter. “The absolute best though, was when you punched Jenny Gildenhorn at my Bar Mitzvah. I think that was just the best thing that ever happened.”

Amy smiled smugly. “I was grounded for a week after that. But it was worth it. What kind of jerk dumps someone at their own Bar Mitzvah? She deserved it.” They sat there silently for a few minutes, soaking in the nostalgia. Amy looked over at Jake, recognizing that it was easier to spend time with him than she’d always expected. Given the way things ended between them, for the past 12 years, Amy had always imagined things would be hard if she ever ran into Jake again.

But there they were, for the third time in a couple of weeks. It wasn’t uncomfortable spending time with Jake and that made her happy. Jake was always a person she’d wished was still in her life. Maybe it meant that was possible.

“Can I say something potentially awkward?” Amy asked hesitantly. Jake shrugged, urging her to continue. “I always thought this would be weirder.”

Jake furrowed his brow. “What? Seeing each other again?”

Amy nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know, but I always just thought it would be harder.”

Jake tilted his head. “Maybe since it was a decade ago, all the weirdness disappeared. Or maybe it was the fact that it was just a high school relationship.”

Amy tensed slightly. It hadn’t been the first time that someone had made that comment about their relationship. But even years later, their four year relationship still meant something to Amy. It stung to hear Jake just brush it off as nothing. Amy nodded, taking a drink from her beer. “Yeah.”

She felt Jake’s eyes on her. “Or maybe it doesn’t matter what went down when you had a strong enough friendship,” he offered. Amy looked over and smiled at him.

“I like that answer.”

Jake reached over and clinked his bottle with Amy’s. “To catching up with old friends.”

“To Kylie getting drunk and abandoning me at different events,” Amy countered.

Jake laughed. “Safe to say this probably won’t be the last time that happens.”

Amy shook her head, glowering a bit. “Absolutely won’t be the last time.”

--

Amy was sitting in homeroom, doing her homework that was due the next week. Gina and Rosa slid into the desks on either side of her. Amy looked at them both nervously before turning back to her work. “What’s up?” she asked with a bored tone.

“So Homecoming is coming up,” Gina reminded her. “Anyone you want to go with?”

Amy looked over at her with a confused expression. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Gina replied evasively.

Amy narrowed her eyes at her. “I don’t know. I’d be fine going alone.”

“Oh come on,” Rosa groaned. “No one actually wants to go alone.”

“What if Luke Mueller asked you?” Gina pestered.

Amy shook her head. “Why would he ask me? I don’t even talk to him.”

“But he’s so cute,” Gina argued. “Surely you’d be game if he asked you.”

“I don’t know him. I’d rather go with someone I know.”

“Like who?” Rosa asked, uncharacteristically interested in Amy’s life.

“I don’t know,” Amy said vaguely. “It would be fun to go with a friend. You know, like if I went with Jake or something.”

“You want to go with Jake?” Gina probed.

“I never said that,” Amy defended. “I just said it would be fun to go with a friend.”

“Yeah, but then you mentioned Jake,” Rosa reminded her.

Amy rolled her eyes, wondering how she got trapped in this conversation. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

Slowly, Gina and Rosa edged out of their seats and walked away whispering about something annoyingly. Amy shook her head and tried to focus back on her work. She did her best to put the weird interaction from her mind.

Three days later, Amy was sitting in the library, getting some work done when Jake walked in and sat down across from her. He didn’t have any schoolbooks with him. Amy was confused as to why he was there. She kept herself focused on her work though until Jake nervously cleared his throat. Amy looked up curiously.

“Hey, uh, hey Ames,” Jake sputtered. Amy furrowed her brow, confused by his nerves. “So whatcha doing?”

Amy looked at her books and then back at Jake, still confused. “Uh, work…”

“Ha, ha, classic,” Jake replied. It did nothing to clear up Amy’s confusion. He shook his head more to himself than to her. “Okay, I wanted to ask you if you were going to Homecoming with anyone.”

Amy stared at him, the conversation with Gina and Rosa flashing back to her. She scowled. “No. Did Gina put you up to this?”

Jake looked taken aback. “What? No. Why would Gina have put me up to this?”

“She didn’t tell you to ask me as a joke?”

“No,” Jake answered. “Besides, who said I’m asking you?” Amy sat back in her chair, feeling like an idiot. Jake shook his head again. “I don’t know why I said that. I am asking you.” He sighed deeply. “Amy Santiago, would you like to go to the Homecoming dance with me?”

Amy smiled. “Sure. Like just as friends?”

Jake looked uncomfortable again. “Um...actually no. I was...kinda wondering...you know if you’d want to go as a date.” Amy was surprised and knew her face reflected it. “But I mean you don’t have to. We can obviously just go as friends.”

Amy reached out and grabbed Jake’s hand. “I’d love to go as a date.”

Jake stared at her. “You would?” Amy nodded sincerely. A huge smile broke out on Jake’s face. “Great. Then it’s a date!”

“It’s a date,” Amy echoed happily.

And that was the simple beginning of their four year relationship.

--

Jake was having dinner with Charles at one of the restaurants he was reviewing. “Wait,” Charles said, interrupting Jake. “You hung out with Amy again?”

Jake shrugged. “Yeah.” Charles was staring at Jake with a dumbfounded expression. “What, Charles?”

Charles shook his head. “So is this a thing you’re doing now? You guys are spending time together?”

“Not intentionally,” Jake replied quickly. “Well, okay the first couple of times weren’t intentional.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean first?”

Jake sighed, wishing he hadn’t said anything. “So we hung out at the bar recently when she was there to see Kylie and Kylie was plastered. And we chatted and it was fun. So we got lunch recently.” Charles stared at him. “A couple of times actually.”

Jake watched as Charles’s jaw actually dropped open. “Oh my God. Are you guys dating again?”

Jake shook his head vehemently. “No. We are not dating. Not at all. We’re just two old friends catching up. It’s nothing Charles.”

“It is not nothing, Jake,” Charles argued. “You were hung up on Amy for years. And now as if it’s nothing, you’re just spending time together again?”

“Dude, I was 18 when we broke up. And yes, it happened suddenly and threw me for a loop for a while. But I have had serious relationships since Amy,” Jake countered. “If it was hard for me to be around Amy, I wouldn’t be spending time with her.”

“I still say that Amy messed you up for all future relationships,” Charles insisted. Jake rolled his eyes. “I mean your relationship was fine with Sophia and then all the sudden it wasn’t. Just like you and Amy.”

Jake shook his head. “My relationship with Sophia ended because it was always going to end. She was a defense attorney. Our jobs literally clashed. Okay? You can’t blame the end of that relationship on me being scarred by Amy ten years earlier.”

“I’m just saying, that whatever happened with Amy messed you up,” Charles continued. “And while I always loved Amy, and it’s great to see her again, I just want you to be careful. You’re a good guy, Jake, the best, and you deserve to be happy.”

Jake smiled. “That’s really sweet, Bud, but we’re not dating. We’re literally just hanging out. Catching up on each other’s lives. We were a big part of each other’s lives and we’re just getting to know each other again. I promise you there is no way I’m going to get hurt.”

Charles glared at Jake. “Why would you even say that? That’s basically a guarantee that it’s going to happen now.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”

“So does that mean you’re going to see her again?”

Jake shrugged. “I mean, probably.”

“Maybe I should come with you guys sometime,” Charles offered. “Make sure things don’t get too heavy. You always used to say I was a good buzzkill.”

Jake rubbed his hand down his face. “I stand by that. You definitely are. And yeah, feel free to come because you’re my, no our friend and it would be nice for all of us to spend time together.”

“And then it won’t get too romantic,” Charles maintained. Jake shook his head, giving up on the subject.

--

Jake and Amy dating somehow didn’t change the dynamic of the group. They all still hung out constantly. Jake and Amy tried their best not to be too touchy in front of their friends. They didn’t want their friends to hate them. Through all of freshman year, Jake and Amy got acquainted with being in an actual relationship. By the end of sophomore year, it was weird for them to think it had been any other way. They were comfortable around each other and had fun together, even just doing mundane things. The amount of times they did their homework together and both still considered it a good time was astounding to them and their friends.

Amy spent a lot of time around Jake’s home simply due to the fact that he didn’t have seven brothers. Karen often welcomed Amy to eat with them and spend any time she wanted there. Amy loved being with the Peraltas.

And Jake felt the same way at Amy’s house. Amy’s mom had once told him that he was always welcome there. He enjoyed getting to feel like part of a big family. He loved being in a house with a ton of people. It made him feel like he got to experience the things he’d missed out on by being an only child. Between their sophomore and junior years, Jake even got invited on the Santiago summer trip to Washington D.C. when one of Amy’s brothers couldn’t go.

So by the time they reached their junior year of high school, Jake and Amy being together was as normal as normal could be. They were so comfortable being in each other’s lives that nothing really fazed them.

Jake strolled into the Santiago house one late afternoon looking for Amy. Mrs. Santiago greeted him happily, offering him food or drinks. He kindly refused her offer, hoping to find Amy so she could help him with his math homework. Geometry was kicking his ass. A concerned look crossed Mrs. Santiago’s face when he mentioned Amy.

“She locked herself in her room a couple hours ago and none of us have been able to get her to come down,” she explained. “I even told her I was going to start dinner and needed her help, but nothing.”

Jake was concerned by that too. Amy was never one to ignore her family. He patted Mrs. Santiago on the shoulder. “Let me see if I can help.” She nodded, thanking Jake, and urging him upstairs.

He knocked on the door once. No reply. He knocked on the door again. This time he was told to go away. “Ames, it’s me,” he called through the door. She gently called that he could come in. Amy was sitting back on her bed, curled in a ball, her hair a mess and papers lying everywhere.

Jake calmly walked over and sat on the edge of her bed. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Amy looked up at him, fresh tears brewing in her eyes. He noticed her tear stained face and just wanted to hold her. She shook her head, the rest of her body shaking back and forth. “I can’t do this, Jake.”

“Can’t do what?” he asked, very concerned.

Her breathing became shallow and she started braiding her hair slowly as she still rocked back and forth. “These classes. I can’t do it.”

Jake closed his eyes, realizing Amy was having a panic attack. He’d seen them before. Not often, and not really this bad. Amy looked like she was shutting down. He picked up all the papers in front of her and stacked them neatly on her desk. She looked at him with a shocked expression. Jake sat in front of her, gripping her shoulders. “You’re going to be fine. I promise. You are Amy Santiago. You are brilliant. You are awesome. And you wouldn’t be in these classes if you couldn’t handle them. I know it’s a lot more work than before, but you’re gonna kill it. I promise.”

Amy stared at him, still unsure. “Jake, what if I took on too much? What if I can’t handle all this work? I feel like I’m losing my mind.” Her breathing was still rough.

Jake made sure to handle Amy delicately. He grabbed one of her hands and held it to his chest, urging her to match her breathing with his. It took several minutes for her to successfully do it. Once her breathing evened out, she started to calm down more. Once he felt like he wouldn’t be making things worse, Jake wrapped Amy into his arms and held her there as he stroked her hair. “Ames, I know it seems scary now, but you’re gonna conquer this. Yes, it’s more work, but the advisors wouldn’t have let you take all these classes at once if they didn’t think you were up to it.”

He felt Amy weakly nod against him. “You really think so?”

“No,” Jake said. He felt Amy pull back and stare at him. “I know so.”

She smiled and shook her head, leaning back into him, and wrapping her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered into his shirt.

Jake planted a kiss in her hair. “Anything for my girl.”

--

It had been a couple of months since Amy Santiago had surprisingly come back into Jake Peralta’s life. He could never have expected the seamless way she fit back into it. They would get drinks together after work when either of them had had hard days. Amy had quickly realized that when it came to getting drinks, Jake was a more reliable friend to meet than Kylie.

Jake had made good on his promise to Charles that the three of them would spend time together too. Charles took them to lots of different places all over the city. Some restaurants were really good and some were unpalatable. Jake was thankful that he finally had someone to share in the misery of Charles’s food choices again. It made him laugh when Amy made the same pained faces that he did.

He still had to reassure Charles nearly every time that they weren’t dating. Jake just thought it was fun spending time with her again. Amy had always been a good person to hang out with and that hadn’t changed in the twelve years they’d spent apart. As strange as it was to be spending so much time with his ex-girlfriend, Jake had been having a better time in the past couple of months than he had in quite a while. Amy was suddenly the person he texted first when he wanted to do something. He chose not to read into what that could mean. There was nothing between them except friendship.

Jake was getting ready to leave the station one night when Kylie stopped him. “Hey, Peralta, where are you headed?”

“Home?” Jake answered, unsure of why she was asking.

“Oh great,” she started. “Can you do me a favor then? Well, it’s not really a favor for me. It’s a favor for Amy.” Jake nodded, letting her continue. “So she left her laptop at my apartment last night and she needs me to run it to work for her.”

“She’s still at work?” Jake asked, looking at his watch.

“They’re having conferences or something, I don’t know,” Kylie explained. “Anyway, she needs it and I just got a lead on one of my cases that I need to pursue. Do you think you could do it?”

Jake nodded, reaching out to grab the laptop bag from her. “I’ll deliver it to Miss Santiago post haste.” Kylie just stared at him like he was an idiot. “Whatever, I’ll get it to her.”

So Jake drove to Manhattan to Amy’s terrible prep school. It seemed fairly deserted for Amy to still be there. He found his way to her classroom, looking through the window to see if he was going to interrupt her in a meeting. Jake was confused when he didn’t see anyone in there, not even Amy. He opened the door slowly, looking around to evaluate the room. His detective skills were kicking in as he entered the room. He couldn’t see Amy, but he heard her.

The sound of shallow, urgent breaths took him back to a moment years ago when he was basically a different person. He knew what that sound meant. Amy was having a panic attack. He looked around wildly, hoping to find her. Jake walked toward her desk, finding her curled in a ball on the floor behind it.

Jake put the laptop on the desk and quickly crouched down in front of Amy. He reached forward, putting one hand on the back of her head and the other on her arm. She looked up at him, surprised to see him there. Without even speaking first, he took her hand and placed it on his chest, hoping to even out her breathing. He squeezed her shoulder, hoping to encourage her to try to follow him. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, laying her head against his shoulder, seemingly focusing on her breathing. Jake moved his hand from her shoulder to rub up and down her back soothingly. They remained in that position for several minutes as Amy came down from her panic attack.

Amy picked her head up finally, looking Jake in the eye. “What are you doing here?” she asked softly.

Jake motioned to the laptop on the desk behind him. “Kylie sent me with your laptop.” He looked at her critically. “Are you okay?”

Amy nodded. Jake raised one eyebrow. “I am now. Really.” She leaned in and hugged Jake tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Jake squeezed his arms around her. “Of course.”

Amy pulled back, finally getting up off the floor. Jake stood up too. “I can’t believe you still remember how to calm me down.”

Jake chuckled. “I wouldn’t have guessed that I did. But I heard you and I just knew exactly what to do.”

Amy smiled, walking around to the front of her desk. “Well, I guess I should get back to work. Thanks for bringing my laptop,” she said, motioning for the bag.

Jake was confused. “What? No, you need to go home.”

Amy looked at him like he was being silly. “Jake, I obviously have work to do. That’s why I’m still here.”

“If you have work to do on your laptop, you can do it at home,” Jake reasoned. He stepped closer to Amy. “Why did you have a panic attack?”

Amy shrugged. “These things happen.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But if I recall, usually it was increased stress that brought them on for you.” Amy stared at him. “So what was it?”

She shook her head. Finally she sighed. “Okay, fine. We were having conferences and a parent came in and yelled at me and told me I was a terrible teacher and they were going to make sure I didn’t have a job next year. And they were the last person that I saw and I just...I don’t know had an attack.”

Jake gaped at her. “You shouldn’t be alone with people like that. Especially if they can make you have panic attacks.” Jake paused, thinking about something. “Wait, how long were you having a panic attack?”

Amy shrugged. “I don’t really know.”

Jake walked closer to Amy. He put his hands on her shoulders. “You’ve been here long enough. You need to go home where you can be comfortable. You know how much panic attacks wear you out. Just go home. And if you absolutely have to do you work, do it there. Where no one can come in and yell at you.”

Amy stared at Jake for a long moment. Finally she patted his hand on her shoulder and nodded. “Okay. I guess I’ll go home.”

Jake pumped one fist in the air. “Victory!”

Amy laughed and shook her head as she turned back to her desk. “So I’ll see you soon?” she asked.

Jake scoffed. “Do you really think I’m gonna just leave and go on faith that you’ll actually go home? You think I’m gonna fall for the Santiago fake out? Nope. I’m walking you to your car.”

Amy rolled her eyes, but seemed to know that she wasn’t going to win this one. She nodded, picking up her laptop bag and another work bag, gesturing Jake towards the door. They walked through the deserted school hallways. The only other person they encountered was one of the janitors. Amy waved to him as she and Jake walked out the front door.

Jake walked Amy to her car when she stopped to look at him. “So lunch next week?”

Jake nodded. “Sounds good.”

Amy smiled, stepping closer to wrap Jake in a hug. “Thank you, Jake.”

He wrapped his arms around her in return. “You’d do the same thing.”

--

Amy hated to admit it, but Jake was right. She was exhausted by the time she got back from Manhattan to Brooklyn. She was heading toward her apartment building when she noticed a familiar car slowing down on the street. She rolled her eyes, turning back toward the street. Jake was sitting in his car, idling outside her apartment. Amy walked over as he rolled the passenger window down. “Are you following me? Should I file a police report?”

Jake laughed. “Just wanted to make sure you got home okay. I knew you’d tell me not to.” Amy smirked. He had her there. “Plus I don’t live too far away.”

Amy stared at him blankly. “Do you forget that I know where you live?”

Jake chuckled. “Okay, so I guess I am a bit out of my way. I just wanted to make sure.”

Amy leaned down against the passenger door. “Well that is very kind of you. I made it home just fine. But, though I hate to admit it, you are right. I’m exhausted. So I’m gonna go inside.” Jake nodded. Amy leaned in through the window and grabbed Jake’s shoulder. “Thanks again.”

“No problem. You can return the favor when I come across some super gruesome crime,” Jake joked.

Amy chuckled sadly. “You just let me know if I need to return the favor.” She backed away from the car. “Night, Jake.”

Jake smiled kindly. “Night, Ames.”

Amy stopped in her tracks. Hearing that nickname again gave her pause. She waved to him and then sped into her apartment. Sure, she’d been spending a lot of time with Jake lately, but this was the first time she’d felt that pang again.

She hadn’t been expecting to see Jake at a time when she was at her most vulnerable. But then he showed up, calmed her down, and made sure she got home okay. How could she not be feeling at least a little something?

Somehow the thing that made it all so clear was having him call her Ames. It was like a switch flipped in her mind and she realized that she’d been so dumb over the last couple of months. The fact that she thought that she could spend so much time with Jake and not have these feelings return was silly.

Jake was a great person in high school and was an even better person as an adult. He was still just as kind, thoughtful, and funny. He still made the same lame jokes that Amy loved. He still had the same stupid grin that used to make Amy weak in the knees. He was basically the same person just more mature.

Amy was in the middle of spiraling over her realization that her feelings for Jake had returned when her phone started ringing in her hand. She looked down to see Kylie smiling up at her. Amy answered the phone quickly. “Hello?”

“Hey! Did Jake get you your laptop?”

Amy looked down at the bag she’d just set down on her couch. “Yeah. He did.”

“Is everything okay?” Kylie asked, sounding concerned.

“I’ve just had a weird night.”

“Explain.”

“Jake found me in the throes of a panic attack and he calmed me down and made sure I came home because he knew I’d be exhausted,” Amy explained.

“That’s nice,” Kylie remarked. “He still remembered the best way to calm you down?”

“Yeah,” Amy replied softly.

There was a long pause between them. “Oh my God. You like Jake.”

“What?” Amy asked shrilly. It was true, but Amy wasn’t ready to admit it to someone else. “You really think that in the last twelve years I never moved on from my high school boyfriend? Kylie, I’ve dated other people. Remember Teddy? We dated for two years.”

“Yeah, I never insinuated that you still liked him. I meant that you liked him again,” Kylie clarified. “But the way that you just jumped down my throat like that makes me think that you are worried that you’ve never gotten over him.”

“I got over him,” Amy insisted. “I just...I don’t know. Maybe I do like him again,” Amy admitted. “But it’s not like it’s going to go anywhere. It’s probably just a resurgence of feelings because he took care of me. It’s fine.” Amy paused, remembering that Kylie now worked across from Jake. “And Kylie, you have to promise me that you won’t say anything to him. I mean it.”

“Whoa. I promise,” Kylie said, sounding sincere.

They talked for a little bit more, thankfully not about Jake. But Amy was still exhausted from the panic attack. Somehow though, as she laid in bed that night, it took her longer than usual to fall asleep. She wondered what it meant that she had feelings for Jake again. Could they just be an echo from twelve years ago, finally catching up to her? Or could they be real, adult feelings, informed by time she’d spent with him again? Amy sighed, turning over to try and get comfortable, wishing more than anything that she could get Jake Peralta off her mind.

--

“Guys, I am just so excited for you two to try this place!” Charles exclaimed.

“Don't you think you maybe shouldn't review places you know you like?” Amy asked.

Jake agreed with her. “Yeah that seems a little shady.”

“I don't know that I like it,” Charles argued. “I’ve just heard big things coming out of the soft opening. Honestly, you two wouldn't be able to get in for several more months if you weren't coming with me.”

Jake and Amy looked at each other and held back laughter. Jake shook his head at Charles. They waited at the hostess stand as Charles name dropped. It had been a few weeks since Amy had recognized that she might have feelings for Jake again. She was doing her best to keep them at bay. More than anything, she just wanted to spend time with him.

“Right this way,” the hostess said. Charles flashed them an excited look as they turned to follow the hostess.

They were presented with menus and upon looking at them, Amy and Jake both released a small gasp. The food was obnoxiously expensive. “Hey, Charles, Buddy, umm...did you know how expensive this place was?”

Charles looked at him with a quizzical expression. Amy nodded. “I’m a teacher and I’m trying to calculate when rent is due to see if I can afford this meal.”

Jake pointed at Amy for emphasis. “Yeah, and you know I’ve never been the best with my finances.”

Charles was still confused. “Guys, did you miss the part where I told you they were comping our meal since i’m reviewing the restaurant?”

Amy and Jake looked at each other before looking back at Charles. “Oh thank God!” Amy cried.

“Whew, big relief there,” Jake agreed. “Must have missed that part.”

Charles smiled goofily at them. “Why do you look like that, Charles?” Amy asked.

“Because that means you guys actually came because you want to spend time with me, not because of a free meal,” Charles replied happily. Amy could swear she saw tears in his eyes.

“Charles, of course we want to spend time with you,” Jake clarified. “If I didn't want to spend time with you, I’d have dropped you sometime between fourth grade and turning 30.” Amy laughed.

“That's really sweet, Jake, but please don't talk about dropping me,” Charles pleaded. Jake stifled a chuckle and nodded.

The food seemed to hold up to its price. It was quite exquisite. Jake said it was the best steak he’d ever eaten. Amy’d gone out on a limb and ordered lobster and she was very impressed too. At the end of the meal, Charles went back into the kitchen to talk to the chef, leaving Jake and Amy alone at the table.

“Wow, there's still a long line to get in here,” Amy mused as she noted the people over Jake’s shoulder. He turned around to look, turning back very quickly with a panicked look on his face. “What was that?” Amy asked.

The panic on Jake’s face didn't fade. “Oh nothing, just spotted my ex-girlfriend over there. It's fine.”

Amy raised her eyebrows in near amusement. “Really?” she asked, kind of intrigued, ignoring the pang in her chest.

“Mhmm,” Jake confirmed, pouring himself more wine from bottle on the table. “I’d be safe in saying things didn't end well between us.”

Amy looked over Jake’s shoulder, wondering which woman it was that had Jake so freaked. Nothing put her past relationship with Jake in more perspective than seeing him freak out like this. Amy had clearly built things up to be too much in her mind. Jake hadn't reacted like this when he’d seen her because their relationship was a high school relationship. Amy felt a little crushed, but still curious to see how this played out.

“Okay,” Jake said suddenly, reaching to grab her hand. “I’m going to ask you to do something awkward.”

“You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?” Amy asked, sensing where he was going.

“Yes, actually. Thanks for just knowing what I was going to say.”

“Well a good girlfriend can basically read her man’s mind,” Amy joked. Jake smirked, shaking his head. “But I have to know more about this situation obviously if I’m going to pretend to be a part of it.”

Jake nodded. “That's fair enough.” He reached out and held Amy’s hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand. Amy tried not to be distracted by the motion. “Okay, so I started dating Sophia two years ago. We broke up six months ago. Things did not end well. I haven't seen her since until this moment.”

“When you’re out to dinner with another ex-girlfriend that you’re begging to play your girlfriend,” Amy added.

Jake glared at her. “Obviously.”

Amy reached over and laid her hand on the back of Jake’s neck, trying to look playful. “Well I think this is a hilarious situation.”

Jake kept playing with her hand, changing his expression from panic to faked devotion. “Well I’m glad you’re entertained, Santiago.”

Amy had no idea how long they had to keep up the charade. They just continued with little touches that would make it obvious that they were more than just friends.

A bad idea struck Amy, but she couldn't fight it. She reached over, playing gently with Jake’s earlobe, scratching every now and then. Jake was in the middle of telling a story when his head tilted and his shoulder tensed up, hitting her hand.

Jake looked at her with a horrified expression. “What are you doing?”

Amy feigned innocence. “Nothing. What do you mean?”

“You were playing with my earlobe!”

Amy continued to play dumb. “And?”

Jake stared at her in shock. “You were trying to see if that still turns me on,” Jake accused.

“You really think I’d do that in public?” Amy defended. Jake just stared at her. Amy burst out in nervous laughter. “Okay, I was! But I was just curious and we’re pretending to be a couple so I just did it. I’m sorry.” Jake shook his head at her with shock still covering his face. “I just have one question though. Does it still work?”

Jake gaped at her. “You do not need to know that!”

“You’re right, you’re right!” Amy said, throwing her hands up in surrender. She laid one hand back down over Jake’s as she leaned in closer. “But I think you wouldn't have freaked out so much if it didn't still work,” Amy teased.

Jake was staring at her in horror when his name was called. He turned to look, only to find himself face to face with his ex-girlfriend. He cleared his throat quickly. “Sophia,” he said lamely.

Amy felt his hand tense under hers. She squeezed it in support. She felt him squeeze back briefly.

“Jake, I gotta say, I’m surprised to see you here. You never seemed to enjoy fancy places before,” the woman said with a biting tone.

Jake looked like he was restraining himself from saying a lot. Amy decided to jump in. “I told him I would pay. I had a chance to get a reservation and I begged him to come with me,” she lied.

For the first time, Sophia noticed her presence. It looked like a new fire had been fueled. “Oh. And who are you?”

“Uh, Sophia, this is Amy...my girlfriend,” Jake answered awkwardly.

Sophia looked back and forth between them quickly. “Well, Amy, how long have you known Jake?” Jake rolled his eyes.

“We actually met in sixth grade. We went all through school together,” Amy replied, sparing a smile for Jake.

Sophia nodded. “So maybe you know never to expect a proposal. Or maybe you know what deep dark thing in Jake’s past screwed him up for functional relationships.”

Amy couldn't help but feel guilty as she looked over at Jake. He stared down at the table. She tore her eyes away from him to stare down Sophia. “Well his dad left when he was a kid. That could mess anyone up.”

Sophia stared at Jake, clearly her anger over their failed relationship still fresh for her. “Well Amy, I just hope you don't invest too much of your time here. Because something there is broken and he’ll just let you down.”

Amy gaped at her as she stalked away from the table. Amy was hesitant to talk to Jake. His eyes were closed and his jaw was tensed but his hand was still in hers. Amy felt like she had to accept some of the blame for why Jake was “broken.” “Jake,” Amy said softly, hesitantly.

Jake’s eyes quickly opened and he looked at her. “Amy, it wasn't you,” he said before she could finish her thought.

Amy fixed him with a sad expression. “Jake,” she tried again. “The stuff she was saying. The proposal and something bad happening in the past...how could it not be me?”

Jake clenched Amy’s hand in his. “Look, I’ll admit I was messed up over our break up for a while. But I can't blame my issues on you when it was ten years after the fact.”

Amy nodded, though she still felt guilty. “I just want to say, I know I’m twelve years late with this, but I am sorry. I’ve always been sorry about the way things ended. I mean it was my fault.”

Jake shook his head. “It wasn't all your fault.”

Amy laughed dryly. “It basically was all my fault. I screwed it up and I spent years hating myself for it. We were really happy and I messed that up.”

There was a heavy silence between them. They were no longer holding hands. Amy took a drink of more wine, wondering if she’d done this all wrong.

“Can I ask something?” Jake asked hesitantly.

“Of course.”

“It's just something that always bothered me,” Jake explained. “I always thought we were really happy, solid. And you just said that we were happy. So how was it so easy for you to just drop it all? Just walk away from it and never look back? I mean we were really happy and then we broke up pretty suddenly and you never even tried to talk to me. You were just gone.”

Amy stared at him in confusion. “Yes, I did.”

Jake gaped at her. “What?”

“I did try to talk to you,” Amy said, thinking back on it. “It was I think two days after we broke up. And I was miserable. So I went to your house and Gina answered the door. I told her that I wanted to talk to you but she wouldn't let me in. She said you were too busy being heartbroken and that if I ever cared about you, I’d leave and never try to contact you again.”

Jake stared at Amy with horror etched on his face. “Are you kidding me?” Amy shook her head. “She said that? She did that?” Amy nodded. “Wow. I’m really sorry about that. That's not at all what I would have said.” There was a long pause between them. Jake took a drink of his wine. “Out of, um, out of curiosity, what would you have said?”

Amy pretended this was harmless conversation but the truth was they were veering toward a topic that was a minefield. “Uh well, I remember that I had a whole speech prepared. Something about how I’d freaked out and how I was wrong. How I thought we should,” Amy paused, sighing heavily, “get back together,” she finished, aiming for nonchalance.

Jake laughed dryly. “And Gina decided I shouldn't hear that, huh?”

“To be fair, I didn't recite my speech for her,” Amy added with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.

Jake looked over at her, shaking his head at her with a reluctant grin. “Well hmmm…”

“Yep,” Amy replied awkwardly.

They both took a drink of their wine, trying to think of a topic to bring up that would steer them away from the giant “What if” conversation that was lingering over their heads. Thankfully, Charles finally returned from the kitchen and told them all about talking with the chef. Jake and Amy pretended to be really interested so they didn't have to talk about everything that had happened after Charles left the table.

--

Amy, Jake, and Charles were sitting around Jake’s apartment eating takeout, chatting about work when Jake stopped the conversation.

“I forgot to tell you guys this!” He exclaimed. “Guess who texted me that they’re going to be in town? Rosa!”

“Oh great!” Charles cried. “We should all get together.” Jake agreed.

Amy shrugged. “I’m okay. You can count me out.”

“What?” Jake asked.

“But it's Rosa!” Charles yelled.

Amy held her hands up in defense. “Look, I just don't really care to see her.”

“Why?” they asked in unison.

Amy rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Okay so I don't know if you boys remember this but I was the one who brought Rosa into our friend group. And then when Jake and I broke up, which, yes, was my my fault -”

“Amy,” Jake interrupted with a scolding tone.

“No, it was,” Charles said. “She stomped on your heart.”

“Charles!” Jake chided.

Amy rolled her eyes. “Whatever. So Rosa was my best friend besides Jake whose heart I’d just stomped on,” Amy continued her story as Jake shook his head. “And I wanted the comfort of my best friend and she wouldn't take my calls. And I kept trying and she just ignored me at a time when I really needed her. So I can be happy to see Jake all this time later. And I can be happy to see you, Charles, because there was no way you were taking my side. But Rosa should have at least been there for me and I don't care how much time has passed, I don't need to see her.”

Jake blew out a breath. “Well damn. I didn't know any of that. I would just like to say that yes, I informed everyone of our break up, but I never told them they had to choose between us.”

Amy laughed dryly. “Aww, thank you.” Jake smirked in reply.

Charles was sitting there looking nervous. Amy and Jake exchanged glances, wondering why he looked that way. When he noticed them staring at him, he finally spoke. “Okay, Amy, I know why Rosa froze you out. It's a secret I’ve been keeping for years.”

Amy and Jake looked at each other curiously. “Well tell us,” Jake prodded.

Charles took a deep breath. “Gina and Rosa were secretly hooking up and Gina made Rosa freeze you out.”

Amy gaped at Charles. Jake looked stunned. “What?” Jake cried. “How do you know this?”

“I...caught them,” Charles said slowly.

“Oh my God, when?” Amy probed.

Charles took a drink of his beer. “Do you remember the SATs party junior year?” Jake and Amy both nodded. “Well, while you two were off in another room hooking up -”

“We were not!” Jake yelled.

“We did not do that when we were all together,” Amy argued.

Charles sent them a knowing stare. “You can lie all you want but I know what you were doing. Maybe you don't remember because there was a lot of drinking at that party.”

“Had Amy had four drinks?” Jake asked. Charles shrugged. “Because if so, that definitely could have happened.”

Amy gasped and slapped Jake’s arm. “Hey!”

He looked at her pointedly. “Am I wrong?”

Amy backed down. “No.”

They turned back to Charles but Jake looked back at Amy quickly. “Does that still happen?”

Amy gaped at him. “You do not need to know that,” she said the words Jake had fired at her a couple weeks before.

“Oh, like you and my earlobe?” Jake retorted.

Amy was gearing up to reply when Charles interrupted. “Do you guys even want to hear this story?”

“Yes,” they both said, turning back to Charles.

“Anyway,” he said with a sigh. “So I was avoiding you guys for obvious reasons and I went to see what they were doing and...it was the same thing. I got like fifth wheeled at that party. But anyway they told me I could never tell you guys. And I know that it happened until they went to different colleges.”

“Wow,” Amy breathed. “I can't believe that.”

“So I think you should see Rosa,” Charles concluded.

Amy shook her head. “Nah, I’m still not going to.” Both men groaned.

--

Senior year of high school brought lots of new things to stress over. Essays, college acceptances, standardized tests, things like that. But there were two things that never stressed Jake or Amy out: knowing what they wanted to do or the idea of them having to break up. They were prepared for long distance from the moment Amy was accepted to Brown University and Jake only applied in New York. They also both knew they wanted to be cops. Having these things already decided made it easier for them to enjoy their last year of high school.

Everything just felt like a victory lap. They’d done it all three times before. The dances, the dates, the stress around midterms and finals. They’d conquered it together three times before and had been fine.

Graduation came and went with a big joint celebration for Jake and Amy. Basically, Jake and his mom joined the Santiago’s celebration. Everyone was happy for both kids, supporting them in their choice to do a long distance relationship.

A month before Amy was set to move, everything changed. The dread of leaving had started to set in. She wondered if she really wanted to go to Brown. Rosa was moving out of state and she had no qualms. Amy was full of qualms though. Was she making the right choices? Could she and Jake survive long distance? She loved Jake in a way she knew was bigger than just “high school.” But she still worried.

Then the fights with her mom began. Her mom wasn't exactly on board with Amy becoming a cop. It didn't matter that Amy had been planning to do that for years. Her mother had seen what Amy’s father had been through on the job, and she didn't want Amy doing that too. She performed long presentations on other jobs that would suit Amy better. As a good daughter, Amy sat through them. In order to appease her mother, Amy agreed not to become a cop. She changed her major before she left for Brown.

She hadn't told Jake about it. In fact, she hadn't told Jake about a lot of the things she’d been feeling and freaking out about. As far as Jake knew, they were still happy. And they were. But fears were ruining Amy’s perception of everything, even her last days with Jake.

It was less than a week before Amy was set to move. They were sitting in the park where they’d sat right before they started their freshman year. Jake was chatting about the future, unaware of how much it was unhinging Amy. She tried to participate, but conversation wasn't working for her. She did feel that she needed to tell him her news though.

“I forgot to tell you this before but...I officially declared my major at Brown,” Amy said weakly.

“Yeah!” Jake cheered. “Criminal justice!”

Amy took a deep breath. “Actually, it's going to be history.”

Jake laughed. “What? History? You’re joking.”

Amy shook her head. “I’m not actually. I had a lot of long conversations with my mom and we decided I could do a lot of exciting things with a history degree instead.”

“So your mom decided this?”

Amy glared at him. “It wasn't all her.”

Jake stared at her, confusion coloring his face. “Amy, I don't get it. You want to be a cop. You’ve gone on several passionate rants about it in the last four years. Why aren't you following your dreams? Why are you letting your mom talk you out of this?”

“I mean it's a dangerous job,” Amy reasoned.

“Sure. But that's doesn't mean you shouldn't do it if it's your dream!”

“Well, it's already happened, so…”

“Amy, why are you giving up on your dream?”

Amy looked at Jake, feeling a ton of different emotions. “High school is over, Jake. And some dreams don't transfer to college.”

Jake scoffed. “Amy, why are you doing this? This doesn't sound like you.”

“I don't know, maybe i’m just growing up,” Amy replied.

Jake nodded his head, not looking at her. “So what are you gonna realize you don't need next, huh? Me?”

Amy moved close to him. “Jake, don't say that.”

“I love you, Amy,” he said, grabbing her hands in his. “And that means pushing you to do what's best for you. And I don't think this is best for you. You have an achievable dream that you’re abandoning.”

“It's fine,” Amy replied, brushing it off. “I can make new dreams.”

Jake seemed taken aback by her statement. Amy wondered how he interpreted it. He squeezed her hands. “Do you know what my dream is?” Amy shrugged. “Marrying you.” Amy smiled, returning the hand squeeze. “Is that still something you would want?” Jake asked. Amy nodded.

Jake jumped up off the ground, pulling Amy up after him. “Then let's do it. Let’s get married.”

Amy laughed. She noted his serious face. “What?”

Jake nodded sincerely. “Marry me.”

Amy stared at him, completely confused as to where this came from. “And then what?”

“I’ll come to Rhode Island with you. I’ll find a college around Brown to go to. And we’ll still be together. And I can make sure you don't give up on anything else that means a lot to you. I’ll get a job and I’ll work through school. And if history is your new dream then we’ll go with that. Even though I don't think it is.” Jake squeezed Amy’s hands again. “I mean it. I don't want us to be apart. Amy, will you marry me?”

To say Amy had been freaking out before was an understatement. She was reaching all new levels. She didn't know why Jake was doing this. Everything was already changing enough. She was moving to a new state, starting a major she hadn't expected, and now he was springing this on her? She couldn't take it.

Amy pulled her hands out of Jake’s. She was shaking her head as tears started to build in her eyes. “I can't,” she whispered.

“Look I know we’re young,” Jake tried.

“That's not it,” Amy interrupted. “I just can't do this anymore. I’m sorry, Jake.”

“What do you mean? You mean us?” Jake asked incredulously.

“I do...mean us. This isn't working.”

“Of course it's still working. We’re just about to go through some changes. But that doesn't mean it's not working,” Jake insisted, tears falling down his face.

Amy pulled herself further away from Jake. “I can't do this. And I have to go. Goodbye, Jake.”

“Amy!” he called after her.

Amy ran to her car, tears streaming down her face. Too much was changing but she prayed it was for the best. She couldn't look at Jake as she left the spot that had once filled them with hope.

--

“Jake, I don't get how you forgot your wallet in an interrogation room at work,” Amy said as she followed Jake through the station.

“You know I can be forgetful, Amy,” Jake insisted. “Besides, I’m not about to ask you to pay for my lunch. So therefore we had to make this stop.”

Amy was skeptical, but Jake said it would take a couple of minutes. He opened a door, gesturing her in. Amy walked in, confused to see Rosa sitting in a chair on one side of the table. Amy turned around to leave but Jake slammed the door, locking them in there. “Are you serious?” Amy yelled.

Charles came over the intercom. “Hey, Amy! Look, it's Rosa. You two haven't talked in years. Get to it!”

Amy closed her eyes, fuming at the idiots on the other side of the mirror. She turned around to see Rosa looking equally pissed.

“Amy, so I hear you’re hanging out with Jake and Charles again,” Rosa said in an attempt to start the conversation.

“Yep. So how’ve you been in the last 12 years? Have any more friends you made and betrayed?” Amy asked bluntly.  

Rosa rolled her eyes. “You’re mad at me from high school?”

“Well it would have to be since I haven't spoken to you since then,” Amy retorted.

“Damn, Charles. Was this a good idea?” Jake’s voice rang through the speaker.

“The mic’s on, you idiot!” Amy yelled.

“Amy, you can calm down. We just locked you in a room with someone you didn't want to see,” Charles replied.

Amy sighed, pulling a chair away from the table to a corner of the room. “So I really pissed you off that much, huh?” Rosa asked.

“Pissed isn't the right word,” Amy answered. “I was hurt.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I was 18 and stupid. And Jake came back saying you’d broken up with him and none of us knew what to think,” Rosa explained.

“So you just froze me out? Thought that was the way to go?”

Rosa looked regretful. “In hindsight, no. It wasn't the way to go.”

“Look, I know it's stupid to still be mad about this,” Amy admitted. “But it did really hurt. You were my best friend. Well outside of Jake. And then when I needed you the most, you weren't there.”

Rosa nodded. “I’m sorry. I wish my 18 year old self was smarter.”

Amy laughed. “Don't we all?” Amy scooted her chair closer to the table. “So how have you been over the last 12 years?”

“Oh my God, Jake! We did it!” Charles’s voice announced.

“Mic is still on, dummies,” Rosa yelled. She looked at Amy. “I’ve been good. You?”

Amy laughed. “Still not a big conversationalist. I’ve been okay. Probably been a lot better since I moved back to New York.”

“So you hang out with your ex-boyfriend all the time now?” Rosa asked skeptically.

“Eh, I needed company. He’ll do,” Amy joked.

“Hey!” Jake yelled through the speaker.

“It's really not weird, hanging out with someone whose heart you stomped on?” Rosa asked.

Amy turned back to the mirror. “Is that how you’ve phrased it all these years? Or are Charles and Rosa just dramatic?”

Jake’s voice came over the speaker. “Can't remember.”

“That's probably a yes,” Amy said mainly to herself. “Yeah, it's a little weird. But really just because sometimes I feel guilty that we didn't talk for twelve years.”

“Well you did break up with him,” Rosa reminded her.

“Yeah, I know,” Amy groaned. “But I was 18 and stupid myself. And I was in the middle of a huge freak out and then Jake proposed and that made it worse and -”

“Wait, what?” Rosa asked.

“What the hell?” Charles said over the speaker. The mirror turned clear and Amy could see Jake and Charles. Jake looked pained and Charles looked confused.

“Did you never tell them?” Amy asked through a grimace.

“Nope. Managed to leave my shame out of it all these years,” Jake admitted.

“Oh my God!” Amy yelled.

“Seriously, dude? You proposed to her? When she was leaving?” Rosa questioned.

“And why didn't you ever tell us?” Charles demanded.

“Because I was embarrassed. I figured she’d say yes. Or at least “maybe later.” I didn't expect her to break up with me. And I was ashamed so I never mentioned it,” Jake answered, clearly feeling guilty.

“I’m sorry, Amy,” Rosa offered.

“It's okay,” Amy conceded. “Charles spilled your years old secret. And honestly, at 18 if Jake had told me to freeze you out, I’d have probably done it.”

“You told them?” Rosa yelled.

“Only this week! I kept that secret a long time!” Charles defended.

Rosa shook her head a sighed. “Look do you want to go get a drink?”

“It's like noon,” Amy reminded her.

“Yeah, so?” Amy shrugged and nodded. “You losers can come too!” Rosa called through the mirror.

--

Jake unlocked the door to the interrogation room and released Amy and Rosa. They weren't best friends again yet, but he was happy they were talking again. Jake went to follow them out of the precinct when Charles stopped him.

“Okay but why did you never tell me at least that you proposed? That's a big deal,” Charles wondered.

Jake sighed. “I really was embarrassed. And sad. And I just wanted to forget about it.”

Charles nodded. “I get it now though. Everything that happened with Sophia.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “That wasn't why we broke up.”

“But didn't she want you to propose?”

Jake nodded. “Yeah, she did but we were never meant to last. Even though I deluded myself into thinking that we could for longer than I should have.”

“Do you think maybe Amy affected why you didn't want to propose to Sophia?” Charles pestered.

Jake rolled his eyes, but still gave it some thought. “I guess maybe? I proposed to who I thought would be a sure thing. Why would I risk putting myself out there again for someone I wasn't sure about?” Charles looked at him sympathetically. “And I guess I did think about that because that was when I decided to end things.” Jake shook his head. “She was hinting and I couldn't imagine doing it. I couldn't be sure. So I ended things.”

Charles smiled and brought Jake in for a hug. Jake groaned. “Thank you for finally being honest with me and with yourself.”

Jake winced as Charles squeezed him in the hug. “Yeah, okay.” Jake patted Charles to release him.

They were walking toward the elevator when Charles spoke again. “I guess I was kinda right when I said Amy messed up your relationship with Sophia, wasn't I?”

“Shut up, Charles.”

--

Amy was meeting Jake at Shaw’s on Friday night after a very long week. It seemed like all her weeks were incredibly long. Apparently that was the case when you didn’t like your job. She was digging her wallet out to start a tab when she realized something wasn’t there. “Oh my God,” Amy muttered, rifling through her purse like crazy. “Oh no. Oh my God.”

Jake stepped closer to her. “What’s wrong?”

Amy was still digging through her purse. “Ugh, I think I forgot my keys at school.”

“Well we haven’t had any drinks yet. Do you want to go back and get them?” Jake offered.

Amy looked up at him, touched by the suggestion to go all the way back to Manhattan with her. “No. By this time the janitors are probably gone too. And since I don’t have my keys, I don’t have my key to the school either. How could I have left them?”

“Well you can stay with me for the night,” Jake volunteered. “I have a passably comfy couch.” Amy was about to respond when an excited look crossed Jake’s face. “And tonight you can Kylie out!”

“What? What does that mean?” Amy laughed.

“You get to be the Kylie tonight. Look, you had a rough week. You forgot your keys. I already have to make sure you get home safe because I have offered you lodging in my home. So I’ll be Amy, you be Kylie. Drink away your week. Have the fun that Kylie never lets you have!”

Amy stared at him, thinking over the plan. “And you’ll be the responsible one who makes sure I don’t choke on my puke or come onto the cardboard cutout of a clown?”

Jake gaped at her. “Are these things Kylie’s done? I’m going to need a list so I can make fun of her at work.”

Amy laughed. “Are you sure about this?”

Jake nodded vehemently. “Absolutely. You deserve to blow off steam. I’ll just...pace myself or whatever.”

Amy smiled at Jake. “Thanks, Jake. I’ll buy your drinks tonight. In exchange for, what was it you said? Lodging?”

Jake laughed. “Deal!”

And Jake kept his promise. Amy drank heavily that night, ranting about work and life in general. They played pool and darts. Jake was a champ at being an Amy. Amy kept her promise too and paid for the few drinks Jake had. By the end of the night, Amy had probably laughed more than she had in a while. Jake had done a good job of distracting her from how rough her week had been.

--

Jake tried to be the best Amy he could be. He was basically supporting the incoherent mess that was Amy as he tried to flag down a cab to take them home. When Amy rested her head on Jake’s shoulder the whole ride back to his apartment, he let her. The biggest struggle was getting Amy from the cab up to his apartment. He managed it though, also getting her to drink a glass of water before she passed out on his couch.

Jake brushed his teeth and changed into his pajamas before checking on Amy one more time. He stood over the couch and pulled the blanket back up over her. Just as he was heading to his room, she woke up.

“Jake?”

He turned back around and looked at her. Her eyes were glassy and she had a sad look about her. Jake crouched down next to the couch. “What’s up?”

She sighed, readjusting her position on the couch. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened?” Jake held his breath. “You know, if I hadn’t freaked out?”

Jake sat down on the floor next to the couch. He stared at Amy, wondering how to answer this question. He decided the truth was the best. Leaning forward, Jake tucked the blanket up around her more and pushed some of her hair out of her face. “Amy, I’m only going to tell you this because you are quite drunk and won’t remember it.” Amy stared at him with a look in her eyes that he couldn’t readily name. “Yeah, I think about it a lot. I think about what would have happened if I’d fought for you or something like that. I think about where we’d be if we hadn’t broken up.”

Amy nodded. Jake could swear he thought he saw tears in her eyes. “Think we’d have kids by now?”

Jake chuckled, though still realizing that this was dangerous territory. “I don’t know. Maybe one or two. We wouldn’t have wanted to rush into things.”

Amy smiled. “Yeah. Probably wouldn’t have wanted to wait till we established our careers.”

Jake nodded. “Yeah. Exactly. Even though everyone would have been pressuring us.”

Amy released a tired laugh. “They would have for sure.”

Jake couldn’t help but stare at Amy. “It’s probably for the best we avoided all that annoying pressure.”

All humor faded from Amy’s face. “Yeah. I guess so.” She shifted, starting to turn toward the other side of the couch. “Well, night, Jake.”

Jake nodded. “Night, Ames.” Amy seemed to fall back asleep pretty quickly, but Jake couldn’t move. The truth was he did think about it a lot. He wondered how things could have gone differently. Could they be a happy family instead of two kids who’d loved and lost each other reuniting years later? No matter how stupid he felt doing so, he’d always compared other women to Amy.

What did it mean that when Amy was the drunkest she’d been in a while, she was voicing these thoughts? Jake shook himself out of it. Maybe spending time with Amy had been a bad idea. Who would actually think it was a good idea to start spending most of your time with someone you once had an all consuming love for? Logical people would have advised him against it. Well, logical people actually had advised him against it.

Jake finally stood up and walked back to his room, wishing he could push the “what ifs” from his mind. The biggest “what if” that was plaguing him was “What if I’ve been spending all this time with her because I have feelings for her again?” Jake threw himself down on his bed with a sigh. How was it that he was 12 years older and he still couldn’t get his mind off Amy Santiago.

--

Amy’d left early the next morning, saying that she remembered there was a chess tournament at the school and she could get in to get her keys. She’d thanked Jake profusely for his hospitality and for “being a better Amy than she is.” Jake laughed as he saw her out the door, wondering how she was even functioning. He didn’t spend too much time worrying about that though because soon enough his mind was back on the other problem, the realization he had last night.

He was sitting on his couch, wondering how he’d gotten himself into this again. Jake should have known that if he spent ridiculous amounts of time with Amy, often rehashing the tales from their relationship, that he would fall for her again. She was still wonderful, kind, and caring. She still was just as passionate as she was before only about more logical things now. Anytime she told a story about how terrible work was, he found himself wanting to do something about it. He didn’t honestly know how it took him so long to realize he had feelings for Amy again. They’d probably returned the night at the bar when he’d seen her for the third time and had committed to spending the evening with her. Now it was months later and he felt like a mess over Amy for the second time in his life.

A knock at his door shook Jake out of his mind. He opened the door to find Charles waiting for him on the other side. “Charles, what are you doing here?”

“Well, I tried this new coffee place and it was really good so I brought you some,” Charles explained, walking past Jake into his apartment.

Jake took the cup from him. “So you’re just here to bring me coffee?” Charles nodded happily. “Alright,” Jake replied, dragging out the word.

“So what are you up to?” Charles asked, looking around the apartment.

“Nothing,” Jake said nonchalantly. He didn’t know what Charles was planning.

“Oh no, did I wake you up?” Charles wondered in a panic.

Jake shook his head, trying to calm down his friend. “Not at all.” Jake swallowed, deciding to tell Charles a bit more. “Amy was here this morning and I got up when she was leaving.”

“When she was leaving?” Charles asked, plopping himself down on the couch to hear more.

Jake rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, we were at Shaw’s last night and she realized she’d forgotten her keys so she slept on the couch.”

“Did anything else happen?” Charles waggled his eyebrows, subtlety lost on him completely.

“No,” Jake confirmed with a shake of his head. He started pacing back and forth across his living room. “Except…”

“Ooh, except?” Charles prodded.

“Except I think I have feelings for her again,” Jake admitted. He looked over at Charles hesitantly to see what his reaction would be. To his astonishment, Charles had no visible reaction.

“Well of course you do,” Charles said easily. “It’s Amy.”

Jake groaned. “No, this isn’t me saying I never got over her. I did. I moved on. I was happy for a while. I thought for a very brief point in time that I would be happy with Sophia. I moved on from my high school relationship,” Jake insisted.

“Of course you did,” Charles agreed. “But then you started spending a ton of your time with that girl again. A girl that you’ve loved before. A girl that you started liking the day you met her and that you’ve always had a strong connection with. A girl that meant an incredible amount to you.” Charles paused and fixed Jake with a knowing look. He might have had a point. “Besides, I mean I’ve been around Amy too since she moved back. She’s still just as delightful as she used to be.” Jake nodded with a small smile. “Jake, honestly, I’ve been waiting for you to tell me this. I know how great Amy is. And even with all the stupid stuff that went down between you, I’d think it was strange if you didn’t have feelings for her again.”

Jake nodded thoughtfully, sitting down on the couch beside Charles. “You really think so?”

Charles nodded. He took a sip of his coffee while staring at Jake. “So what are you going to do about it?”

Jake sat back against the couch. “Oh, nothing.”

“Jake!” Charles chided.

Jake turned to look at his friend. “I don’t know where Amy’s at...you know, emotionally or whatever. And I really like spending time with her. I don’t want to screw that up by being a clingy ex-boyfriend with feelings.”

Charles tutted softly. “You’re an idiot.”

Jake gaped at Charles. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry, but I say it with love,” Charles replied. He turned to Jake and gave him a pointed look. “Jake, this is a woman that you love.”

“I wouldn’t say “love” yet, okay? We’re not there yet. You could say “feelings,” even though that sounds kinda dumb,” Jake argued.

“Whatever,” Charles said, trying to continue. “The point is, you care about her. Don’t you think she deserves to know how you feel? Don’t you think she deserves to know all her options?”

Jake sat there thinking about it. He shook his head. “This isn’t like when I asked her out in high school. It’s not as easy as asking her to Homecoming and hoping she’d say yes. This is bigger. I mean we’re adults and we’ve be apart for years. Who knows if a relationship would work between us as adults?”

Charles laughed. “Okay, I take it back. Now you’re an idiot.” Jake glared at him. “You guys spend so much time together. You let her stay at your home and you took care of her while she was drunk. And she’ll pretend to be your girlfriend when you run into another ex.”

“I still regret telling you about that,” Jake muttered.

“You guys clearly still have the same chemistry that you had before. You guys have changed and matured but you’re still compatible,” Charles insisted. “Why wouldn’t you want to go for that?”

Jake paused, thinking about Amy. “I don’t know.”

Charles patted him on the knee. “Well you should think about it. You guys would be good together. Don’t ruin it by being too scared.”

Charles stood up, walking toward the door. “Where are you going?”

He looked back at Jake. “You’ve got some things to think about.”

--

Amy was buying Jake dinner as a thank you for taking care of her the night she’d lost her keys. Jake was worried he wasn’t doing much to carry the conversation along. He was still a little lost in thought over what to do about his feelings. Spending time with Amy was not necessarily helpful.

Amy was elaborately telling some story from college. She and Kylie apparently got into a lot of different hijinx in their time there. Jake hoped he was laughing at the right parts. “Yeah, Providence is a pretty place,” Jake added after a comment from Amy.

She looked at him with a puzzled expression. “You’ve been to Providence?”

Jake closed his eyes quickly, remembering that Amy never knew about that. “Umm...once.”

Amy was still confused. “When?”

Jake sat straighter in his chair, clearing his throat. “Uh, I believe it was spring of freshman year.”

“So you came with Charles?” Amy asked.

“What?” Jake asked, shaking his head to try and understand. “How do you know I went with Charles?”

“I saw him,” Amy explained.

“How?” Jake wondered.

“Wait, you were there?” Amy asked.

Jake sighed. “Okay, so I was having a hard time in school which was usually when I started feeling miserable about everything else. And I convinced Charles that we had to drive to Rhode Island and I had to see you. But when we got there I chickened out and I told Charles we should just turn around. I said that if you’d wanted to have anything to do with me, you’d have tried to reach out. Of course, this was before I knew that Gina commanded you not to.” Amy made a sad face, nodding her head. “But anyway, we went to a hotel and stayed the night and left early the next morning.”

“Well at some point, Charles ditched you and he came and found me,” Amy explained.

Jake stared at her in confusion. “Seriously? You didn’t just like see him from afar?”

Amy shook her head. “No, he came to my dorm and confronted me.” Jake gaped at her. “He told me that I was a bad friend and that I was more heartless than he’d ever have been capable of imagining. He didn’t know how I just ditched you all and ran away, especially you. And that I should know that I was responsible for making a great guy be heartbroken forever.”

“Wow,” Jake breathed. “I can’t believe that. That definitely went against the theme of the trip.”

Amy laughed. “Yeah I didn’t really know how to respond. I also was not alone in the room. Kylie’s boyfriend was hanging out in there while Kylie was showering and I think Charles thought that he was my new boyfriend. Because once he spotted him, he got a nasty look on his face, told me I disgusted him, and then spit on the floor.”

Jake wrinkled his nose. “Eww, he spit at you?”

Amy nodded in confirmation. “Yeah, I felt like he was trying to channel some movie but I didn’t know what it was.”

Jake laughed. “Wow. Well he never told me about that. I’m sorry that you had to endure Charles being especially weird.”

“I mean at that point, I’d seen enough weird sides of Charles to not be too scared by it,” Amy joked.

“Well haven’t we all?” Jake added.

They were silent for a few moments as they ate. “We had a lot of near misses, didn’t we?” Amy asked.

Jake looked up at her. He was sure the same thought was rolling around in her head as it was in his. What would have happened if Gina had let Amy talk to Jake or if Jake hadn’t chickened out and actually seen her? Would a decade have gone by with no contact? Likely not. Jake blew out a breath. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

--

Amy had the movie all queued up and beers ready to drink when her phone rang. She looked down to see her brother, Marco’s face smiling up at her. Wondering why her brother would be calling her, she actually answered. “Hey, Marco! How’s it going?”

“Good!” he said happily. “I have a question. Do you still hate your job?”

Amy was confused. “I mean, I like teaching history, I just don’t like where I’m teaching. But yes, I would say I’m relatively still unhappy with it. Why?”

“Because I’m going to change your life!” He exclaimed.

Amy laughed. “How so?” There was a knock at the door, signaling Jake’s arrival. Amy opened the door with a smile, pointing at the phone to her ear. Jake nodded, holding his finger in front of his mouth.

“Well,” her brother continued, “I was taking your lovely niece to school yesterday when I met the dean of the school, one Dr. Wilson. He and I were talking and he heard Santiago and asked if I was related to you. I said I was. So he asked how his prized mentee was. I told him you were massively unhappy at your job and he told me to tell you that if you ever planned to relocate to D.C. that he would have a job waiting for you! Boom!”

Amy was confused. “How does this help?”

“Amy, you’d have an awesome job waiting for you here.”

“But I live in New York,” Amy reminded him.  

“Well, yeah, but you could move. I mean, it’s not like there’s anything keeping you there,” Marco argued. Amy felt her breath hitch. She looked over at Jake opening up one of the beers she’d put out. He smiled at her when he caught her gaze. She couldn’t ignore the butterflies she felt just from that little smile.

“I mean, yeah, I do,” Amy retorted, turning away from Jake.

“Kylie’s there, but you guys have lived in separate cities before and you’re still friends. You should take this opportunity, Amy,” Marco urged her.

Amy shook her head. “I’ll think about it.”

“Amy, don’t be stupid,” Marco said, annoyance in his voice. “Don’t be unhappy if you don’t have to be. Just come to D.C. At least meet with him. Maybe a move is what you need.”

Amy was pretty sure that a move was the last thing she needed. And one of the things at the top of the list that she did need was sitting on her couch. Amy closed her eyes and sighed. “I just need to think about it, okay?”

“Fine. But don’t take too long,” Marco replied.

Amy rushed him off the phone. She couldn’t argue with her brother that she needed a new job, but she didn’t think one in D.C. was the way to go. Jake jumped up when he heard her say goodbye. He walked toward the kitchen where she was standing. “You okay?” he asked with a concerned look on his face.

Amy nodded. “Yeah, just a lovely conversation with my brother.”

“What’s up?”

Amy debated whether telling Jake was the right thing to do. She knew it would hurt if he told her to go for it. “Um, he thinks he found me a new job.”

“A new job? That’s great,” Jake said excitedly. “You hate yours so good for him for finding you a new one.”

Amy smiled sadly. “Yeah, the only problem is that the job is out of New York.”

Jake’s brow furrowed. “How far out of New York?”

“Washington D.C.”

Jake did a double take. “Really?” He swallowed harshly. “Are you thinking about it?”

Amy shrugged. “I don’t know. He kinda sprung it on me. He’s right though, I do need a new job.”

“Yeah, but do you really want to move?” Jake asked, a weird tone to his voice.

“I don’t know. No,” Amy said, flustered. “But his reasoning is that I have nothing keeping me here.”

Jake’s face hardened some. “Is that what you think?” He stepped closer to her. “Do you really think you have nothing here?”

Amy sighed. “I-I don’t know.”

Jake looked pained as he took another step closer to her. “Amy, please don’t take that job. Please. I just got you back. I really don’t want to lose you again.”

Amy smiled sadly at him. “Jake, with all the social media there is now, you won’t lose me. We can still be friends.”

Jake reached out, cupping the sides of her face with his hands. He looked down at her intensely. “That’s not what I meant. You know that’s not what I meant.”

Amy let her hands find his waist. “What are you doing?”

Jake looked at her lips before looking back up at her. “Hopefully giving you a reason to stay.” With that, he closed the distance between them, kissing her softly. Amy was stunned, but responded quickly, moving her hands around his back. They stood there in her kitchen, kissing slowly, languidly, reacquainting themselves to each other.

Jake’s hands moved from her face, slowly wrapping her in closer to him. Amy reached up, running her hand through the hair at Jake’s neck. She felt his tongue brush against her lip and she opened her mouth, letting him deepen their kiss.

Amy lost track of how long they stood there kissing, their hands starting to roam to the same places they used to. Slowly, Jake walked her back until she felt the cabinet stop her. He broke apart, looking down at her, an impossibly wide smile on his face. Amy’s smile matched his as she brought his head down to kiss him again. She felt Jake crowd her space against the cabinets as his hands wound into her hair. Though their kisses had started out slow, they were turning passionate and desperate.

They broke apart slowly as they came up for air. Amy let her hands linger on Jake’s chest as she stared back at him. He reached up and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “So, um, do you want to watch the movie?” Amy asked awkwardly while panting.

Jake smirked. “Yeah, maybe we should.” He leaned in quickly and kissed her again, leaning his forehead against hers as he pulled back.

They made their way over to her couch, sitting considerably closer than they would have originally. Amy was curled into Jake side and as the movie started, he planted a small kiss on her head. She looked over at him and smiled. “Was it obvious?” Jake looked confused. “That I felt this way again?”

Jake grinned. “Not at all. I was just hoping you did since I did.”

Amy leaned up and kissed Jake slowly. She broke away with a pleased look on her face. “I do. Have feelings, I mean,” Amy clarified.

Jake stared at her with a huge smile on his face. “Yeah, I do too.” Jake leaned down and kissed Amy gently, slowly. They kept kissing until there was a loud bang in their movie and it startled them apart. Laughing, Amy curled back into Jake’s side as he wrapped his arm around her. They cuddled together on her couch, variating between watching the movie and making out.

At the end of the night, it took Jake a long time to leave Amy’s apartment. He was pressed against her front door as they couldn’t break apart. Amy was making sure Jake’s hair was a mess and his hands found their way under her shirt. It wasn’t until Amy moaned into Jake’s mouth that one of them finally pulled back. Jake looked down at Amy. “I need to go. I want to do this the right way, you know? Not just up against your door.”

Amy laughed. “You may have a point.” She stepped back so Jake had room to open the door.

He was about to walk through the door when he turned back wearing a concerned look. “Listen, about earlier -”

Amy reached up and touched Jake’s face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jake looked happy then conflicted. “I don’t want to keep you from doing something that you want to do, Ames.”

Amy smiled at Jake’s kindness. “You’re not. Honestly. I just moved back here. I don’t want to move to D.C. The idea of a new job sounds nice, but I can find one here.”

Jake grabbed Amy’s hand. “And you wouldn’t blame me?”

Amy leaned up and kissed Jake hard. She looked at him with a pointed glance. “Not at all. I mean…” she sighed, “This was something that I wanted too.”

Jake smiled, nodding his head. He kissed Amy one more time before he left. “Night, Ames.”

“Night, Jake,” she said softly, finally releasing his hand.

--

TWO YEARS LATER

Jake and Amy had been dating again and it had been going incredibly well. Charles had been right; they were still just as compatible as before. Amy was happier than she’d been basically ever. At the end of the school year, Amy had resigned and found a new job. As she was applying, she’d found out that Keith Pembroke had been fired as the principal of their old school. The new principal happily took a look at her resume and offered her the open history job. Once she worked at a school where she was happy, everything just fell into place.

Two years had flown by in haze of happiness. She and Rosa were friends again. Gina and Amy were back to their surface level friendship thanks to the group that now included Kylie. And Amy and Jake were living together. Never in all the times she’d imagined seeing Jake again had she ever expected that they might get together and be happier than before. And yet, they were.

Amy was sitting with Kylie at Shaw’s while Jake was over playing pool. “So when are you guys going to get married?” Kylie asked her.

Amy looked over at Kylie, shocked. “I don’t know. Why?”

“Well you’ve been dating for two years. In your thirties. And you already dated before and you know basically everything about each other,” Kylie pointed out. “I just wondered when that was going to happen.”

Amy stared at her drink. “I guess I haven’t thought too much about it.”

“Well do you want to marry Jake?” Kylie asked.

Amy looked past Kylie to where Jake was standing. He was laughing at someone’s joke when he caught her looking at him. He smiled widely at her. She smiled and waved back. “Yeah,” Amy said softly. “I do.”

Kylie looked at Amy with an excited expression. “Oh my God, this is awesome.”

Amy groaned into her beer. “No it’s not.”

Kylie looked confused. “Why? That was a fast turn around.”

“Because I realized that Jake probably isn’t going to propose to me,” Amy said as she sulked. She looked back at her friend. “Jake’s already proposed to me once and I turned him down.”

“That was in high school.”

“Yeah, but Charles claims that the reason Jake didn’t ever propose to his other girlfriend was because I messed him up for that,” Amy explained.

“So why don’t you just do it?” Kylie asked. “You know he loves you. Just do it.”

Amy looked at Kylie with wide eyes. “Oh my God, Kylie, I should just do it!”

“That’s what I just said.”

“I know. And that’s brilliant,” Amy cried. She looked over at Jake with a mischievous look in her eye. “Boy’s not going to know what hit him.”

--

“Ames, do you really expect me to care about our high school’s football team?” Jake asked as he wandered through the halls of their old school with Amy. “I mean I know you work here, but the only time I ever cared about the football team was when Charles briefly played kicker.”

“Ugh,” Amy groaned, “And then he called himself an “ath-a-lete” for months.”

“Yeah, that was not great,” Jake agreed. “But anyway, what are we doing here?”

Amy took Jake’s hand to steer him away from the hall to the stadium. “I just thought we could take a walk down memory lane.”

Jake grinned as he looked over at Amy. “You sap,” he joked. Amy smiled, squeezing his hand in hers. “Are you really just taking me to your classroom to fulfill a high school fantasy of hooking up at school?”

Amy looked at him with a disgusted expression on her face. “That was your thing, not mine. And in no way, will we ever do anything inappropriate in my classroom.” Jake gave her a knowing look. “Because then I’d have to teach in there knowing what we did.”

“There it is,” Jake laughed.

Amy stopped in front of the closed door to the library. “Oh look, it’s the library.”

“Ahh, yes, where you spent countless hours kicking all of our asses at school,” Jake mused.

Amy smirked. “Damn straight.” She looked at Jake with a sweet smile. “We should go in.” Jake shrugged and waved her onward.

She opened the door and dragged him in, the lights all off except for fairy lights strung throughout the room. “Whoa, this...looks different. It’s kinda nice,” Jake said softly, adopting a lower voice for the library.

Amy wandered through the rows of books, hoping she wasn’t being too obvious. Jake just walked right along with her, making comments about memories from when they used the library. Amy tried her best not to pick up her speed when she saw the place she’d picked out to pop the question. Soon enough without her picking up the pace, they approached the table.

“Aww,” Amy started, “Look, it’s the table.”

“The table?” Jake asked.

Amy nodded. She pushed Jake to stand right next to where he was sitting when he asked her out for the first time. She moved back and stood next to where she had been sitting too. “I was right here in this chair and you were right there when you asked me to Homecoming,” she reminded him.

Jake smiled at the memory. “And you asked me if Gina made me ask you as a joke.”

Amy laughed. “I did. And then you denied that you were even asking me.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “I was not the smoothest.”

Amy smiled. “I think you did just fine.” Jake grinned at her. “It’s where it all started,” Amy mused. Hoping her nerves (or emotions) wouldn’t get the best of her, Amy bent down onto one knee. “And that’s why I thought it was a good place for this.”

Jake stared down at her, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. “Are you -”

Amy nodded confidently. Jake shook his head and grinned broadly. “Jake Peralta, you are the love of my life. And all I really want is to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

Amy swore she saw tears swimming in his eyes. A sly smirk crossed Jake’s face. “No. I want to break up,” he said, unable to hold back a few chuckles.

“Are you kidding me?” Amy whined.

Jake grabbed her hands, pulling her to stand with him. “Of course I am. And of course I will marry you.” He wrapped one arm around Amy, pulling her in to kiss her. Amy laid her hands on Jake’s neck, happily kissing her new fiance.

Amy pulled back eventually. “I don’t have a ring,” she admitted. “I didn’t really know how this was going to work, you know, rings and such.”

Jake smiled. “That’s okay,” he assured her. He fished in his pocket for something. Pulling out a small box he said, “I have one though.”

Amy looked back and forth between him and the box several times. “Seriously?” Amy already had tears brimming in her eyes but they began to fall.

“I was actually going to propose to you at some point. I wasn’t scarred by the last time like everyone seems to think,” Jake assured her. “I was just trying to find the right moment. And then you beat me to it,” he joked.

Amy smiled at him brightly. “I just figured it was my turn,” she said, wiping her tears away. Jake laughed, opening the ring box to reveal a beautiful and perfect ring.

“Amy Santiago, will you marry me?” Jake asked, grinning.

“I think you know the answer.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to say it,” Jake said through a grimace.

Amy laughed, leaning forward to kiss Jake. “I would love nothing more than to marry you.” Jake smiled brilliantly, surging forward to kiss her quickly before he slid the ring on her finger.

After kissing a few more times, appreciating the moment between them, Jake and Amy left the library walking hand in hand through the halls where they’d first fell in love.

Posted on AO3 as well! 

[acercrea]

The Art Assignment

A/N: This is for @marvelous-fvcks 3k followers writing challenge. I selected the Artist AU, and I decided to go with Steve. I know the deadline is the 27th, but it is still the 27th in my time zone for another couple of minutes, so as far as I am concerned I made it. And as a warning there is no smut, but there are mentions of nudity.

 Disclaimer: I don’t own anything you recognize and this is just for fun. I am not making any money off of it.

 “My art teacher officially hates me,” I grumbled, slamming down my tray in the dining hall so hard I knocked over my bottle of juice.

“Wow, mashed potatoes and gravy, mac and cheese, and grilled cheese with a cup of tomato soup. I don’t think you have enough comfort food on your tray, dollface,” Bucky noted as I started tearing my sandwich into strips so that I could dip them in the soup easier, before taking the lid off of my soup.

“Bite me, Barnes,” I replied, shooting him a glare over my food.

“Now, now, no need to be nasty. I’ve seen your portfolio, you are a great artist, why would you think that your teacher hates you?” Steve asked, swatting Bucky’s hand away as the brunette tried to snag one of his fries.

“According to her I am too immature and I don’t have enough experience to know when to take a risk so my work is thoroughly predictable and too boring to be worth her time. She has mandated that I have to do a study in the human form to broaden my horizons. The only bright side is that she is at least letting me pick my own subject, but I still have to find someone who is willing to get naked and agree to be drawn that way for the sake of art,” I sighed, dunking the first chunk of sandwich into my soup before taking a bite.

“Do you have anyone yet?” Steve asked, setting aside his History textbook.

“No, I was thinking of asking that kid from my Econ class who seems to think my eyes are in my boobs. He would definitely say yes, but then I would have to see a lot more of him than I want to and I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. The idea of explaining to him after the session that sex is entirely off of the table is about as appealing as shoving a fork all the way through my hand, so there is that. I suppose I could find someone on the internet to draw, but if my teacher ever found out I would fail the course. I don’t know what to do, but I have to figure it out quick, because I have one of the studios reserved for tomorrow at 3,” I answered.

“I would volunteer, if only to keep you from having to ask a creep, but I have a mid-term for English then, and it is a significant portion of my grade,” Peggy apologized, picking thoughtfully at her lasagna.

“Thanks for the offer, but Professor Hill made it pretty clear that it has to be a study of the male form specifically. She kind of went out of her way to make me uncomfortable with this assignment,” I replied.

“That does make it a bit harder to find a suitable candidate. I know, what about Steve?” Peggy suggested.

The only response Steve could manage was to cough and choke on the water he had been drinking.

“Well, I think that answers that question. Arms up, buddy, clear those airways,” Bucky chuckled, reaching over to the next table to grab some napkins from the dispenser and handing them to Steve so he could try to dry the front of his shirt. “Tell you what, in order to save you from Creepy Econ Guy, I will do it,” Bucky offered with a shrug.

“Really?” I asked, a little surprised.

“Yeah, I was supposed to do some chemistry review thing with my lab partner, but she just canceled on me half an hour ago, so I am all yours, doll. Do I need to bring anything with me? On second thought, I guess that is a silly question, isn’t it?” Bucky laughed.

“Actually, you will need a robe, if you have one, to, um cover up while we are waiting for the, uh, clothing lines to disappear,” I answered, stumbling a little bit on my words, a blush beginning to creep up my face.

“Ok, no problem. I have to run to Calculus, but text me the details and I will see you at 3 tomorrow,” Bucky promised with a smirk, throwing his books in his bag, grabbing his tray and rushing off.

**

I was on my way to the studio I had booked, when my phone chimed in my pocket. Shifting my art bag to the other arm, I pulled out my phone to read the text.

My lab partner claims to not have been talking to me when she canceled our study session and is insisting that I stay. Don’t worry, Steve is going to fill in for me, he might even be there already. Sorry I couldn’t be there, I will buy you a drink the next time the group goes out to make up for it. :(

I quickly typed out a response(No prob, thanks for getting it covered), and pocketed the phone as I arrived at the studio.

I opened the door and saw Steve sitting awkwardly on the stool in a huge, fluffy, dark blue robe. “Hi Steve, how are you doing?” I asked, setting my bag down, pulling out a large sketch pad and my set of artists pencils.

“Oh, you know. Just sitting here awkwardly, in a robe and nothing else, hoping that no one else walks in, kind of wondering if I am being punk’d,” he joked, a bright red flush creeping up his cheeks.

“No, I left Ashton Kutcher back at the dorms. I had to tie him to a chair because he kept trying to escape. And I will lock the door, so no one can walk in. Is there anything else I can do to make you more comfortable?” I questioned as I flipped the pad open to a blank page and set it on an easel.

“Take your shirt off?” he requested softly, as if he was hoping I wouldn’t hear him, the faint tint to his cheeks blossoming instantly to tomato red.

“And here I thought Bucky wasn’t able to make it today,” I commented with a chuckle, my eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, it’s just that I have never done anything like this before and I am so far outside my comfort zone. It was the first thing that came to my mind and I really wish I hadn’t said it. I hope I didn’t offend you,” Steve apologized, somehow making his large frame sink into the bathrobe a little.

“No, it is fine, you are nervous. No offense taken. In fact, if I thought it would actually make you relax, I would do it. But I do have an idea,” I told him, pulling a smaller sketch pad out of my bag.

“Woah, what are you doing?” Steve asked, shying away as I dragged my chair closer, momentarily abandoning the easel.

“Relax, I am just getting closer. I am going to sketch your face, just your face, so that you can keep the robe on, while we chat and you remember that we have been friends since freshmen year, when I met you and Bucky at that party thrown by Nat and Clint. It wasn’t going well, but Bucky didn’t want Nat to feel bad, so he insisted we play Truth or Dare,” I started the conversation, quickly sketching his face; the sharp line of his jaw, full lips, eyelashes any woman would kill for, smudge the eye a bit to create warmth.

“You gave him so much crap for that. I thought that the feud was never going to end,” he laughed, causing his eyes to crinkle, which I hurriedly captured in the sketch.

“Well, I thought someone needed to remind him that we were freshmen in college, not high school. I mean, what kind of self-respecting adult wants to play Truth or Dare? I thought he was kidding,” I pointed out, flipping the page and starting another drawing.

“I don’t think that was the part he was mad about. I think we both know that he was hoping his dare would get him a kiss,” Steve countered.

“I stand by my choice that night. Not just because Bucky is cocky and sometimes needs to be reminded that he isn’t god’s gift to women. How do you feel about baring your top half?” I asked as I finished the second drawing of his face, this one a slight profile focusing on the curve of his nose.

“What, like I just take my arms out like this, but leave the bottom half covered? Yeah, I’m ok with that,” he agreed, pulling his arms out of the robe and letting it dangle around his waist.

I flipped the page and started sketching again, his arms, pecs, and abs taking shape. “We never would have become friends at all if it weren’t for you,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, but you know me, I hate conflict. And when I realized that you were someone who could actually keep Bucky in line, I knew I had to help you two mend things. So I did the only thing I could think of. I locked you in a closet together,” Steve confessed to me.

“That was you? I have blamed Peggy for that this entire time. I put dish soap in the wrong persons shampoo,” I laughed.

“That is so tame, I would have thought you would have done something bigger than that,” Steve commented.

“And it would have been if I had only done it once. I did it every time she bought a new bottle of shampoo until we switched to a new room Sophomore year. She changed her brand of shampoo, she had maintenance check our water pressure, no matter what she did it was almost impossible to rinse her hair clean every time she washed it,” I reminisced, finishing my third drawing and pulling the pad to my chest.

“I had forgotten how diabolical you are. And you have stopped drawing. Does that mean it is time?” Steve asked.

“Only if you are ready. How do you feel?” I inquired.

“Like I can’t do this with you staring at me,” he replied honestly.

“Ok, well then in that case, I am going to turn my back while I drag my stool back to the easel, and you can get undressed at your own pace without me looking at you. Just let me know when it is safe for me to turn around,” I proposed, as I tucked my smaller sketch book back in my bag and sat on the stool facing the door.

I heard the sound of cloth dropping to the ground and I waited for Steve to give me the word. I was about to ask if he was ok, when he finally spoke, “I need you to promise me one thing.”

“Anything Steve,” I agreed.

“Don’t laugh,” he requested.

“Done,” I promised.

“Ok, then you can turn around,” Steve told me.

I turned slowly, trying to view him with the eyes of an artist only. “Oh, Steve,” I breathed. “I don’t see anything funny. You are beautiful.”

“You are just saying that to make me feel better,” Steve grumbled, trying to cover himself.

“No, I’m not. You are so stunning that it is almost unfair that you are so beautiful on the inside too, because no one person should be allowed to monopolize so much beauty,” I responded honestly.

This seemed to relax him a little bit, and he moved his hands. “Ok, um, I want to get this over with, so how do you want me to sit, what should I do with my hands?” Steve asked, trying different things with his arms, moving them from resting on his lap, to dangling by his sides, to crossed over his chest.

“I think you should put your right hand on your right knee, and cross the left hand over your chest so that it is grabbing your shoulder. How does that feel?” I asked, selecting a pencil from the case.

“Yeah, that feels ok. Can I ask you a question, since we are being honest with each other?” Steve asked as I started to draw him.

“I owe you so many favors for this that you can ask anything you want and I will answer honestly,” I replied, focusing switching between Steve and the page.

“That first night we met, and Bucky dared you to kiss the most attractive guy in the room? Why did you kiss me?” he asked, the vulnerability from before coming back into his eyes.

“Because I found every other man in the room lacking,” I shrugged.

“Really? I thought you were just trying to prove a point to Bucky,” Steve replied.

“This may come as a shock to you, but I didn’t just see you as this scrawny thing back then. Yes, Bucky was more physically fit than you, and Clint had those arms from all that archery, and you were just this skinny thing in comparison. But I saw something in you that night. The only thing that they had that you didn’t was confidence. And I thought that maybe I could give that to you with a kiss. I chose you because I wanted you to get a chance to be the guy I saw hiding inside you. And honestly, between the two of you, I have always found that Bucky doesn’t hold a candle to you. Now hold still,” I ordered, finishing the first drawing and moving on to a second.

We sat in silence for a while after that, me drawing, him sitting quietly.

“Ok,” I broke the silence about 20 minutes later. “I am done. I am going to put things away if you want to go behind the screen and get dressed again.”

“Really? We are done?” Steve asked, starting a bit at the sound of my voice like he had forgotten I was in the room.

“Oh no, I haven’t turned you into a nudist, have I? Because I was going to take you out to dinner to thank you for doing this, but I don’t think they will let us in if you aren’t wearing clothes,” I teased, walking over to hand him his discarded robe before pushing him to the corner of the room.

“Fine, I will get dressed if it makes you happy,” Steve joked, ducking quickly behind the screen. “But you aren’t buying me dinner.”

“What? Of course I am, it is the least I can do,” I countered, making sure the elastic that held my big sketch book closed was on properly, I didn’t want the book to fall open somehow and display all of Steve to someone walking by.

“No, you aren’t, because a woman never pays on the first date,” Steve responded.

“Date?” I asked as he walked back over to me, fully dressed, with the robe draped over his arm.

“I have been in love with you since that first night, but all this time I thought that you only kissed me because you were trying to prove a point to Bucky. I just found out that was not the case, and we have a lot of lost time to make up for, as far as I am concerned,” Steve told me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I could be ok with that,” I spoke softly, the air suddenly charged between us, his crystal blue eyes the last thing I saw before my eyes fluttered shut as he drew closer. It was a much different kiss that the one from 3 years ago. I had caught Steve by surprise that night, he never even had time to properly respond to the kiss before I pulled away.

This time Steve was in charge, his lips moving against mine firm yet gentle, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of my neck, the electricity that had been around us now coursing through us, a tingling sensation radiating from every point that we touched.

“I can’t believe we wasted so much time not doing that,” I gasped when we finally broke apart, resting our foreheads against each other as we caught our breaths.

“Then why are we stopping?” Steve countered, leaning back in, making me forget everything around me when he gently brushed his tongue against my lips, losing myself in him completely as I opened my mouth and let him inside.

  A/N: I hoped you liked it, I hope no one was disappointed that there was no smut, I just don’t see Steve as a guy who would just jump into bed with someone because they have seen him naked. Like, reblog, comment, do all of the things, let me know what you thought, this is my first MCU fic period and I hope I got Steve right.

[perfectly-parrilla]

Why I changed my major as a junior (and hopefully encouragement for others)

I don’t remember the applying for college process. I do remember sitting in my principles of biomedical science class listening to everyone talk about their acceptance letters. They were all going to the same local university, most of them going into the medical field. After all, we were all in the medical professions academy for a reason. I had the same acceptance letter sitting in my email…

It wasn’t the college I wanted.

The university that I wanted to attend was still local, but it was a private school and chances of getting in were slightly harder. It was also much more expensive, but it was my dream school. The campus was beautiful and small and the location was convenient because I could still live at home and continue working at my job.

When my acceptance package came in the mail, I cried. I already felt accomplished by reading that I was accepted into my dream school and I would be majoring in nursing.

I wanted to be an oncology nurse. The treatment of cancer was always fascinating to me and I loved learning all about it, and I could hardly wait to start my first semester and begin taking classes.

That first semester was rough.

I wasn’t happy. I didn’t feel interested in any of the material I was learning in my nursing classes and generally I just felt like I was lost.

Not too long into the second semester, I checked my financial aid which showed a negative amount of money. I thought that was money I owed and I knew there was no way I could pay that much by the deadline. I panicked. I thought I was going to have to drop out and go to a different school in order to get my degree… but the nursing degree still wasn’t what I wanted.

I went home that day and cried to my mother… I told her that I didn’t want to be a nurse… I wanted to be a teacher. This seems like a drastic change but my heart was always drawn between the two. I realized that day that I chose nursing for the wrong reasons.

The next day I went to school, prepared to drop my classes and transfer to a different school the next semester, when wonderful people helped me sort out my problems. They explained to me that the negative amount shown was my refund, and that I didn’t owe anything for the semester. What a huge relief! They also helped me change my major right then and there, and I am so lucky the staff is so supportive!

The following day I began my classes as an English education major. I loved it! I felt like I finally found what I was supposed to do. I loved my classes, I loved the people I had classes with, I loved engaging with the local school system and making fun and exciting lesson plans. My second semester as a sophomore I applied to the school of education and even submitted my portfolio and had an interview, everything was awesome! The interviewers really loved my portfolio and the only thing I needed was the time to get my GPA where it needed to be.

My first semester of my junior year, I still had some general education overlays I needed to meet, and one of the classes that fit my need was Intro to Sociology. When I was registering for classes I regarded it as another general education requirement I just needed to get out of the way. I didn’t have any expectations going into the class.

When the semester started, it was the only class I had with anybody I knew, in fact she was my friend. That was a plus. The professor was pretty cool, that was another plus. It was my favorite class to actually sit through lecture, but when the time came around for the first test… I bombed. A 67. A 67 really hurts when you’re not expecting it. It hurts even worse when the professor puts out an “early alert” which is basically an email sent to all of your advisors and yourself that you failed a test. The early alert was put out because the rule of the class was if you get less than a 70 on a test, you meet with the professor to discuss ways of improving. I read the alert on a Friday. My weekend was ruined.

I cried… because the one thing I was supposed to be working on was bringing up my GPA. I was disappointed in myself. I could have studied harder. I could have paid closer attention to the chapters. I could have taken better notes on my own. But I didn’t. So Monday came around and I was scheduled to meet with the professor and I was nervous. One important detail I should mention here is that I am an extremely awkward person and one on one interviews aren’t really my thing… it’s also worse when I’m talking to someone I look up to (I don’t know why so don’t even ask).

So I go in the professor’s office and we are sitting down and she starts by telling me that I’m not in trouble, and she’s just trying to help me improve my study habits so my next test grade doesn’t resemble the first one. Her advice is to study flashcards from both sides of the card and to maybe try an outline. She also mentioned studying with someone from class.

I did all of the things.

I made outlines of the chapters, I made flashcards and studied them both ways, and I even asked someone from class to study with me (which didn’t turn out because I cared about my grade more than that person cared about theirs), but the point is, I really wanted my next test grade to be good. I wanted to prove to myself and to my professor that I wasn’t stupid, because let’s face it, we all have those moments where we question our life paths.

A week after my meeting with the professor, we had a quiz. Quizzes were obviously less points than the test, but they prepared you for the test, and my quiz grades up until that point weren’t that great either. I studied all weekend for that quiz. I felt confident going into that classroom and answering the questions successfully. It felt like forever before the grade was logged in, but when I saw the 10/10, I actually said, “Yes!”

I did it!

Now I just had to keep doing that on every assignment for the rest of the semester, easy, right?

As the semester went on, and as I buckled down in my sociology course, I realized that I loved it. I was so interested in the material that I was learning and I was talking about it ALL the time! I would go to work straight after class and tell my co-workers the interesting statistics I had learned. I found myself wanting to learn more. I had never felt so drawn to a subject that I needed to learn more information. I even went to Barnes & Noble and bought three books from the “Sociology” section because I simply wanted more information.

Time still went on and I was still an English education major and had already registered for my classes for the next semester as an English education major, but I knew… I knew this wasn’t what I wanted anymore.

I was lost.

I didn’t want to change my major again because I felt like everyone else would think I didn’t know what I was doing. Some people did think that. Some family said things along the lines of “really, you’re going to change your major again? Why?” Also, I was a junior! Changing your major as a junior is kind of a big deal for several reasons.

I didn’t even pass the first test, there was no way I could tell my professor that I wanted to change my major. She was going to think I was crazy! I was going to wait until after the second test. I felt more confident I would do well on the second test and maybe that would help with my decision.

My friends encouraged me to change my major because they could tell what I was more passionate about. They knew that I talked nonstop about the things I learned in my sociology class.

One day before the second test, I worked up the courage to go to my professor’s office again. I told her that she was going to think I was crazy, but that failing the first test made me pay more attention to the information I was reading, and that I was really interested in every aspect of the class, and that I was stuck and had no idea what to do.

Let me just tell you all, this professor (doctor, actually) is so awesome and even if she didn’t think I would make a good sociology major, she didn’t say it. She took several minutes explaining different options to me and she added another SOC class to my English heavy schedule for the next semester so I could dive deeper, but not have to make a decision yet. After all, I had only taken one sociology course ever at this point…

Then she asked me what I would want to do if I was a sociologist. I had no idea! I just knew that I loved what I was learning and the careers that I researched on my own, I could see myself pursuing. I told her I had no idea, and clearly she could see I was stressed and she told me that it was okay.

I told her I was going to wait until after the second test to talk to her, but she said the second test grade shouldn’t matter, because if sociology is what I wanted, that’s what I should go after.

Not going to lie, after leaving her office I was even more unsure of what I was going to do. I had three different papers with different majors and their requirements and I felt even more stressed than before. I honestly had no idea what I was going to do.

I don’t remember how many days went by, but I went with my heart, and I changed my major.

I read the pamphlets, I continued reading the chapters for class, I paid attention during lecture, I read the books I purchased, and all of it was so fascinating, but I still wanted more. I was going through my binder one evening when I found a sheet of paper that was passed out in my sociology class on the very first day. It was a paper that we were encouraged to read, and I skimmed it, but I never really picked it up again after that. For some reason, that night, I opened the folded paper and read “I am a Sociologist because…” by Peter Kaufman. That was it. That paper was my deciding factor.

I went to my professor’s office again, and told her I wanted to change my major to sociology. She told me to have a seat, and she helped me plan my classes accordingly, and I was so excited for my new schedule of classes, and I was looking forward to the next semester. I was sure this was meant to happen.

I’ve never felt so sure of myself before. I’ve never felt so engaged in a topic that I think about it 24/7 and see the world around me differently, all from one class. I can’t imagine how I will feel when I have more sociology classes under my belt.

Also, as a boost for my own confidence, I got a 96 on the second test. I went from a 67 to a 96!

This is why I’m not giving up now. My goal is straight A’s next semester because I want to prove to myself that I will be somebody, someday, who will make a difference.

[belovedphil-blog]

Dan Howell VS the Teenage Brain

Phanfiction. Summary: College, Art School, University. Dan had trouble telling the difference between them all. Yes, he wanted to get a Bachelors degree in Creative Writing, but what about pottery and painting in the full scale of the colour wheel? Dan Howell is now in year 12 of Highschool, and all he wants to do is to make up his mind for what happens when adult hood finally hits him. Follow him on his journey through daydreams, parties with too much alcohol, and other factors that fuel up the average teenage mind. - You're at school. You have for some reason to both dyed your hair pink and let your unruly curls flow as they would naturally. When approaching a friend, they seem to not acknowledge you in any way. You decide that it's just them being weird. They're a bulky, dark-skinned person with flowey green-dyed hair in the shape of a faux hawk. It's not unusual for them to be wearing dramatic makeup and punk clothes adorned with the occasional spike. You  admire them for being so out, maybe even feel envious towards them. - For some reason you can't remember if you went to class or not. If this is one set of staircases too many. If your teacher was supposed to be wearing long knee highs with stripes on it. You can't remember all that much of today, in fact. And when your foot took one wrong step, you slipped and fell. And fell. And fell. Before hitting the ground, you see a flash of green. - Dan's eyes flutter ungraciously, placing a hand on his forehead with a crinkled nose. The static of a back-to-school commercial advertising backpacks is displayed on his TV,  and a sickeningly cheerful woman stands with a white backdrop behind her. A photo of the bag in the top right corner of the screen. Dan manages to make his face scrunch further at the commercial, his hand blindly searching for the TV remote to turn it off. Dan clicks the power button, and leans backwards on his bed. Due to the summer heat, all of his sheets have been kicked off and onto the floor. He grimly turns his head to the left to glance at his alarm clock, already guessing that it was mid afternoon since his dark and mesh curtains casted a light grey tone throughout his room. /2:45 p.m./ Dan then grumbled at that, sitting back up to see the date on his calendar. /August 21, two more weeks until school starts./ The thought made Dan want to vomit, and with the pile of University application acceptance letters on his desk, the thought of going to College gave him a headache. - "You know, I read on the paper that replying to acceptance letters within two weeks gives you a better chance at having a scholarship to pay for all /four/years, instead of just two." Was the first thing Dan's mum said to him when he eventually climbed out of bed and to the kitchen to get something to eat. As per usual, his dad grumbled in agreement,  but only to please his wife. Dan chose to ignore both of them, but his mother wasn't having it. "Daniel, your letters came a month ago. . . Replying to one of them is better than none of them." Her voice sang behind him. What was once a quest for a snack, was now an interrogation. So, instead of rifling through the pantry, he opted for leaning against the countertop next to the sink. Arms folded. "Mum, I have until January of next year to decide. So why rush it? And besides, the scholarship deal is already discussed on the letters. So I have no way of bargaining anyways." Dan said, making a pointed look towards her mother before making his way out of the kitchen. "Very well, then. I guess you're right." His mum said, but Dan was already out of the room, headed upstairs without any food due to a loss of appetite. - /August 28, one week until school starts again. 144 days until I have to decide what University to go to./ Dan was at his desk, looking over his acceptance letters. The time on his alarm clock read half past one in the morning, but it's not like it mattered, anyways. Like everyone in his level, he had applied to a bunch that he didn't care much about, but was glad that they accepted him anyways. Yet he didn't care about going to those colleges. The only ones he cared enough to open were face up, looking at him in the eye. - /In regards to Daniel James Howell,    The board of The University of York is proud to announce that you have been accepted to attend eight semesters of classes, starting fall, 2018. The board is also willing to give six semesters of all school expenses, including textbooks and a £75 cafeteria breakfast, lunch, and dinner food benefits card that will replenish itself every three weeks, in recognition of your family's low-income.    Good grades, a full stomach, and hard work will deem you a successful life ahead of you. The deadline to reply back is January 19, 2018. When you do, address what classes you would or wouldn't like to major in. And if you would like to make a request class, you can, and a bargain may be discussed in the future. Your best wishes, The board of The University of York The 17th of July, 2017/ - /For the concerns of Daniel James Howell,    The board of The Art Institute of Portland is glad to say that you have been accepted to attend eight semesters of classes with all living and classroom expenses payed for a total of seven semesters.    In addition, to acknowledge your family's low income, you will be gifted a food benefits card of £70 to pay for food at the Campus Cafeteria, which will replenish itself every month. The board is happy to say that they were impressed with your portfolio that was submitted in May of 2017.    Many teachers look forward to enlighten and help you gain your potential. Your dedication and hard work will ensure that you will have a bright future ahead of you.    The deadline to reply is January 19, 2018. And until then, the board wishes you a good luck. Your best wishes, The board of The Art Institute of Portland. The 16th of July, 2017/ - After reading both letters for the millionth time, Dan set both of them down and ran his left hand through his curls. "Dear god, I am so fucked." Was the last thing he said before he went to sleep.