#why? because ALL I DID was study. my cousin tutors me and I was failing these 3 specific subjects

[sprinklethetangerine]

I think this is a pretty reasonable situation to cry in, right?

[hearts4hughes]

WASHING MACHINE HEART | JACK HUGHES

fem!reader x jack hughes

summary: in which your entire heart was never enough for jack. (4.5k words)

author note: this is one of, if not my longest, writing pieces. it is very loosely based on washing machine heart by mitski. this took like two weeks to write and forgive me, i am NOT proofreading!! this is incredibly angsty so buckle up!

"jack?" your brows furrow, eyes squinting in confusion. "what are you doing here?"

he never showed up unannounced. did you miss his text or call? who are you kidding? you’d never dare to miss one of his calls.

you were in love with jack hughes. every single ounce of your body was drowning in your love for the brunette boy. you memorized every facial feature, mannerism, and breath he had. nothing about him went unnoticed to you.

if only he held mutual feelings. he loved you, he truly did. but not in the way you yearned; not in the way you craved. while your eyes followed him, it seemed like he followed every other girl.

you and jack met in the ninth grade. he was failing in every class possible (besides physical education) and you were excelling in every class possible (including physical education). in jack’s mind, he didn’t need school or an education. he was going to the nhl in a few years, so why did it matter if he was smart or not? the only iq that mattered on the ice was hockey iq.

the only problem was school rules and regulations. if he wanted to continue playing on the high school hockey team, he needed to step it up academically. with a stubborn attitude, he signed up for tutoring and was assigned you as his tutor.

you were roped into becoming a tutor by both your parents and your teachers. the school was running low on anyone willing to sign up for after—school tutoring, and you needed a little extra cash.

every tuesday and thursday, you went to jack’s house and studied with him for hours. however, as days passed into weeks, you began going over to his house every day. with his charming personality and your shyness, you quickly fell into the best kind of friendship. it only took two months before you fell in love with your best friend, and you’ve held those feelings for nine years.

"y/n, i’m sorry i didn’t call before," he apologized, his face flushed. "i have a problem," he huffed out, taking a seat on your couch.

"what are you talking about?" you scratch your neck in confusion. "and did you run here?"

when you and jack both moved to new jersey, it wasn’t a surprise when you moved into apartments within six minutes of each other.

"yes, i ran here," he answered. "but that doesn’t matter. i ran into lola at a coffee shop this morning.”

lola was jack’s most recent girlfriend. that was until she broke up with him because he wasn’t mature enough. he was heartbroken and devastated, and like the good friend you are, you held him during the hard nights as he cried and ranted about how he missed her. you ended up helping him move on after a month or two, but what made him stronger only destroyed you more.

you sighed, "jack, i don’t want to hear this—"

"no, i promise this is going somewhere," he interrupted. "i saw her and we began talking about my cousin, natalie’s wedding. she’s known natalie since high school and is attending the wedding. when she said that, i got nervous and said i was also going and i was bringing you as my date."

your heart plummeted. "what?!" your eyes widened and mouth hung open.

he squinted his eyes, lips pressed tightly together. “i’m sorry.” he said with doe eyes. he knew exactly how to make you fold. “you know how she is. she was all over me and acting flirty, like she wasn’t the one to break up with me. she thinks that i’m still not over her.”

“well, are you?”

“i think so.” his voice was unsure. “will you help me, please?”

“i don’t know—”

“before you say no, remember when i drove over here at 2am with ice cream?” he says.

your shoulders slouched. “yes,” your voice was quiet.

“remember how i said you owe me one?” you shook your head as you replayed the past interaction in your head. “well, consider this me officially cashing in my favor.”

you rested your head in your hands. “what does this entail?” you asked.

his eyes lit up like a child’s on christmas day. “you pretending to be my girlfriend for a day.”

you exhaled loudly. every bone in your body was saying— screaming— no. your brain knew it wasn’t a good idea. it would only draw you deeper into jack’s web when you were beginning to unravel from it. but your heart said otherwise.

“fine.” you said as you rubbed your temples.

jack shot to his feet with a bright smile on his mouth. “yes!” his voice was an octave higher. his arms wrapped around you in a warm embrace. your stiffened body molded around him.

“fuck, i love you so much for this.”

he doesn’t mean it in the way you want him to, but you’ve learned to ignore the twinge in your heart when he says those magic words.

you don’t realize how fast your heart is beating until he pulls away from the hug. your body aches for him as he removes his arms from around you.

“since, i’m already here movie night?” he asks, his brow quirking upwards.

a giggle escapes your slouched body. for the first time since he got there, you smile— genuinely. he seems to notice as well because he mirrors your features, allowing his tense shoulders to drop.

you nod, plopping down on your couch with him. you hand him the tv remote, allowing him to put on whatever action/mobster movie that he usually did. your head rests on jack’s shoulder, an intimate action that meant more to you than it did to him.

this is what you wanted. this is what you’ve wanted since ninth grade. you’re finally getting what you’ve wanted. does it matter if your relationship with him is real or not? the more you think, the bigger the pit in your stomach grows. you ignore all impending thoughts and enjoy the feeling of your head resting against the love of your life’s shoulder.

you fall asleep against jack, soft snores falling from your pouted lips. when you wake up, you’re tucked in your bed, your alarm clock reading 2:30am, and a note with jack’s sketchy handwriting on your bedside table. you smile, a content feeling masking your earlier anxieties before you fall back into a deep slumber.

~

after an hour of painstakingly going over wedding details and weaving elaborate fake relationship stories, a dull ache pulses behind your temples, and the confines of your clothes suddenly feel suffocating.

“are we done yet?” your voice was whiney as you dramatically sat back in your chair.

jack giggled. “who knew that relationship talk would bore you?” you rolled your eyes. “if my family wasn’t so nosey, this would be a walk in the park,” he begins, “but they are and that means we have to tie up every loose end before they ruin our entire plan.”

you groaned. “we have enough chemistry for them to believe it, jack.” you said pointedly, your leg bouncing up and down under his dining room table.

“i guess.” he shrugged a smirk on his face. “but what we have is platonic chemistry. we need romantic, honeymoon phase chemistry.”

your fingers picked at the skin around your painted nails. blood pooled in your cuticle but you paid no mind to it, subconsciously wiping it against the denim of your jeans.

every muscle in your body tensed. platonic chemistry— the only thing you and jack possess. the subtle comment twisted your stomach— the contents from the meal before threatening to spew out.

“i, uh, have to go to the bathroom.” you blurt out, quickly leaving the seat and entering into his bathroom.

his brows furrow at your abrupt exit. “ok…”

his bathroom was cold and plain. you stare at your reflection in the mirror as you swallow harshly.

why were you doing this? why put yourself through the emotional turmoil only for jack to pretend to be in love with you? were you this desperate?

you raked your brain for any coherent answer—one that you would never find.

turning on the faucet, the icy water coated your shaky hands. you splashed some water on your flushed face—good thing you wore waterproof mascara today. quickly, you patted yourself dry, hopefully appearing more relaxed than before.

as you walk back into his dining room, jack’s faint laughter fills the room. it bounces off of the walls in a symphony of beauty. you crave his laughter like a bee craves honey. jealousy courses through you as he isn’t laughing at your joke.

he sits at the table, his phone in hand as he types on his screen. his lips are pulled upwards into a boyish grin, a pink color coating the apples of his cheeks.

his gaze adverts from his phone to you as you awkwardly stand, almost as if you were waiting for his approval to sit. “sorry, it’s just lola.”

your shoulders slouch.

you’ve met lola before. she never seemed humorous to you. she couldn’t have possibly said something that funny that he’s laughing out loud.

then it all became clear. you were merely a scheme to get her back. he wasn’t over her— he never was.

“can i ask you something?” you said while sitting in the chair beside him.

“mhm.” his attention isn’t even focused on you. silently, you scoff.

“you know what, i’m just going to head home.” you said, your voice sharp. immediately, jack put down his phone.

his forehead was creased from the furrow of his brows. “are you ok?” he mirrored your actions, standing up alongside you.

you mumbled in response, collecting your things and heading towards his front door. his hand clasped against your wrist, halting your movement. you huffed, looking back at him.

“did i do something?”

“no, jack.”

“then why are you acting like this?”

“i didn’t sleep well last night. i just want to take a nap.” you said simply. his face contorted. you were never the best liar.

“worm,” the nickname rolls off of his tongue like silk, but pierces your skin like shattered glass. it was short for bookworm— something classmates would teasingly call you. you never liked it when people said it, not until jack did. “just tell me what’s wrong.”

“are you using me as a pawn to get lola?” his face paled as the words left your lips. his hands clasped into fists and he cleared his throat.

“no.” his eyes avoided yours. “why would you think that?” he asked.

“i just want to make sure that we’re still going to be friends after this.” you spoke. “after all, i don’t think lola’s going to want me to be close with you after this.”

“good thing we aren’t together anymore and it will stay like that.” he mustered up the fakest smile. “see you on saturday, yeah?”

you sighed, “yeah.”

~

kissing wasn’t something foreign to you. your first kiss was in tenth grade with jake hopkins. he had blue eyes, curly brunette hair, and a similar name to jack. your kiss with him was enough to distract you from jack’s newest conquest with gina— an eleventh grade blonde who resembled a real life angel. she was older, which jack didn’t always like, but he made an exception for her.

kissing was something you were used to doing. you hadn’t been in a lot of serious relationships, but you kissed people often. however, the thought that you and jack might kiss today made your stomach do a somersault. suddenly, you knew nothing about kissing. it was as foreign to you as an alien to earth.

swiping on the darker shade of lipstick, you hoped for a confidence boost. you don’t usually wear this lipstick shade. holly, your best friend and roommate, convinced you to buy the overpriced makeup a few weeks ago. she said it would make you look sexier, more mature. you wondered if jack would like this shade. lola often wore darker lipstick. it looked good on her plump lips, but maybe a little less once left on jack’s cheek. it always made you cringe when she would press her lips against his, leaving a smudged lip print. jack knew it was there and he didn’t mind. if wore it proudly like a badge of honor, not caring what teasing remarks his teammates would make.

“i can’t believe you’re doing this for him.” holly said. she was clad in your pajama bottoms and sweatshirt, sprawled out across your bed.

“well, he is my childhood best friend.” you reply as you grab towards your perfume, spraying it across your body. you stood up, looking at yourself in the full length mirror.

you wore a maroon, silk, maxi dress. it accentuated every curve on your body, fitting you like a glove. the deep colored dress was captivating with a slit going up your lower body, showcasing your legs.

holly mutters something incoherent under her breath— you can’t quite hear what she said, but you can only imagine.

“you look like a fucking goddess.” she stood next to you, holding your arm up and twirling you around. giggles escaped your lips. “i just wish you were going out with a guy who actually appreciated you. not one who used you like this.” the corners of her lips turned downwards into a frown.

you turn to respond to her, to defend jack, but as you do, the doorbell rings.

“that’s him.” you waste no time running towards the door and opening it for him. he wore a maroon tie that matched perfectly with yours, his hair touseled, and his face clean shaven.

“hi.” you smile, your eyes trailing up and down his body. he looked godlike. “you look great.”

“thank you.” his cheeks blushed red. “you look beautiful, worm. i mean it.”

your entire body felt warm. you hadn’t even touched him and yet sparks traveled through your body. he knew you were beautiful— he even thought it— but he still didn’t want you.

holly trailed behind you, watching the interaction from the kitchen. she shook her head before returning to her room.

“we should get going.” jack clears his throat.

"yeah, we should," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

jack leads you to his car, a black range rover that’s evident he takes proud in. he opens the passenger door for you, a small gesture that makes your heart flutter, and then quickly hops into the driver's seat. as he starts the engine, you can feel the tension in the air.

"so," jack begins, glancing over at you, "let's go over the details one more time."

you nod, pulling out your phone to check the notes you had made earlier. "okay, so we've been dating for six months. we’ve always had feelings for each other,, and it was kind of a whirlwind romance," you start, reading off the fabricated history you both had created.

jack smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "right, and we decided to keep it quiet because we didn't want to make a big deal out of it."

"exactly," you continue, "and we've spent a lot of time together, just not always in public. but your family knows me very well, so it shouldn't be too hard to convince them."

he nods, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "and we're really happy together," he adds, his tone softening. "like, really happy."

your heart clenches at the sincerity in his voice. a part of you feels it’s real— though you know it's all part of the act. "yes," you agree, trying to keep your voice light. "happier than i've ever been."

jack glances over at you, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "you're a great actress, you know that?"

you laugh, a sound that feels both forced and genuine at the same time. "thanks."

in a way you were an actress— well, most of the time. in your everyday life with jack you played the part of a best friend who only held platonic feelings. you had mastered that part. here, now, however, there is no acting. you are entirely devoted to jack. anything you say, any touch you bestow, will be a look into your heart.

the rest of the drive, you both fall into a comfortable silence, each lost in your own thoughts. the gps guides you to a large, elegant house adorned with white ribbons and flower arrangements.

"we're here," jack says.

you take a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your stomach. "okay, let's do this."

jack steps out of the car and quickly comes around to your side, opening the door and offering you his hand. you take it, your fingers curling around his as you step out of the car. his touch is warm and reassuring, and for a moment, you allow yourself to savor the feeling.

as you walk towards the entrance, jack squeezes your hand gently. "ready?"

you nod, your heart pounding in your chest. "ready."

the moment you step inside, you're greeted by a flurry of activity. guests are milling about, chatting and laughing, the air filled with the sounds of celebration. jack's family members quickly spot you and rush over, their faces lighting up with genuine happiness.

"jack! y/n!" ellen exclaims, pulling you both into a warm hug. "it's so good to see you two together!"

you smile, slipping into the role effortlessly. "it's great to see you too," you reply, squeezing her hand.

as more family members gather around, asking questions and showering you both with affection, you can feel jack's hand on the small of your back.

throughout the evening, you and jack move seamlessly through the crowd, sharing inside jokes, laughing at shared memories, and playing the part of the perfect couple. there are moments when you catch his gaze, and for a split second, you allow yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be more than just an act.

but then you see lola, standing across the room, her eyes locked on jack. her presence is a stark reminder of the reality of your situation. jack's smile falters for a moment when he sees her, and you can see the conflict in his eyes.

it’s not long before lola stalks over in your direction. she stands tall in a yellow maxi dress, matching with the rest of the bride's maids. the color makes her tan skin shine. she’s the epitome of sunshine.

she greets, “jack.” her gaze lingers on jack, the corners of her lips curving into a devilish smirk.

suddenly, he drops your hand. you suck in a sharp breath, looking down at his hand besides yours. his hand is flexed. you attempt to steady your breaths.

“hello, lola.” he replies. her name slides off his tongue so perfectly. he says it seductively and yearningly. his eyes brighten and cheeks gain more color. he stares at her like she hung the stars in the sky. “you remember y/n, don’t you?”

as he says your name, neither the glimmer in his eye or the blush on his cheeks intensify. it falls off his tongue in a casual way, with no clues or cliffhangers left behind.

she chuckles, the sound bouncing off of the walls and reaching your ears like both a blessing and a curse. “i remember her very well.” she doesn’t leave it there. “though, last time i saw her, she was your friend and i was your girlfriend. funny how the tables turn.”

as if on cue, both of your bodies stiffen, the action obvious enough for her to stifle out a laugh.

“calm down, i’m just joking.”

“it’s nice to see you again.” you say, ignoring the burning sensation in your stomach. she looks you up and down, a look of indifference placed on her perfect face.

it’s almost like she can read you. she looks so majestic, you wouldn’t put it past her to behold a supernatural ability.

“it’s a pleasure to see you always, y/n.” she grins. in the background, the dj changes the upbeat music to a slower, romantic song. the atmosphere around you shifts to the music. “slow dances are starting! i want to see you love birds on the dance floor.” her comment comes out snarky, but jack is too captivated by her to notice.

lola’s small figure disappears in the sea of people on the makeshift dance floor.

“wanna dance, worm?” jack asks with a sly grin. his hand picks up yours again.

“i thought you’d never offer.”

he tugs at your hand, pulling you towards an open spot on the dance floor. as you step onto the dance floor with jack, the soft melody of lover by taylor swift fills your ears. jack's hand feels warm and reassuring in yours, but as you glance up at him, you can't shake the thought of how he dropped your hand.

"this song... it reminds me of lola," jack murmurs, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. “it’s stupid, but this song was playing when we met, so it’s always resonated with her.”

you nod, swallowing past the lump in your throat. "yeah, i can see why. it's a beautiful song," you reply, trying to mask the ache in your chest.

it was like the universe was playing a prank on you. lover was your song, not theirs. the second it was released you fell in love with it. it was the very song you listened to when you still had hopes of a relationship with jack.

as you dance, jack's gaze keeps drifting towards where lola dances. she sways back and forth with the groom’s best man. everytime she laughs, jack’s jaw clenches.

you try to push aside the rising tide of emotion, focusing instead on the feel of jack's arms around you and the gentle sway of your bodies. but with each passing moment, the resentment grows, threatening to consume you from within.

“jack, can you at least pretend you want to be here with me?” your voice was sharp.

pity spread on his face like a wildfire. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to-”

“it’s fine.” you mutter through your teeth.

he didn’t respond, although the dim glimmer in his eyes revealed his guilt.

from the outside looking in, this seemed like a romantic, loving dance between the perfect couple. but that couldn’t have been more wrong.

as the song comes to an end, you reluctantly pull away from jack, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of hurt and anger. "you lied to me, jack." you accuse, your voice barely above a whisper.

jack's expression softens, his eyes clouded with regret. "y/n, i'm sorry," he begins, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

"i don't want to hear it," you say, your voice trembling with emotion. "i thought... i thought you cared about me. the only reason i’m here is to make her jealous.”

jack reaches out to touch your arm, but you pull away, your heart heavy with disappointment. "i know," he says softly, "and i'm sorry. i just... i can't help how i feel."

you take a step back, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. "i understand," you say, your voice barely a whisper. "but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.”

“you shouldn’t have fallen in love with me, y/n. we’re only friends.”

the words hit you hard because it’s the truth. you and jack are only friends.

with that, you turn and walk away. you hear jack yelling your name as he races after you, but you ignore it. you get as far as the parking lot before his hand clasps around yours, pulling you back into his chest.

“what do you want?” you shouted. “what do you want from me, jack?”

“i don’t know.” he admits.

“exactly.” you point your finger at him. “you don’t know what you want, so you play with my feelings; you manipulate me; you flirt with me, tell me you love me, but then somehow remind me that we’re only friends.”

he stands there, speechless and guilty. his gaze stays glued to the concrete.

you let out a sharp, bitter laugh, your eyes flashing with anger. “you’ve known this entire time that i love you, and you still invited me here.” your eyes are dark with rage. “you have known your motive since before we got here and completely disregarded how it would break me.”

“worm,” he softens his voice.

“don’t call me that.”

“c’mon, don’t be like this.” he says. his hand reaches out to intertwine with yours, but you pull away.

“jack, i would do anything for you unbiased to my feelings because i thought you cared.” your voice grows weaker. tears flood your eyes and stream down your face. “but now i’m seeing the real you and it fucking sucks.”

you step back from jack, tears streaming down your face, as he stands there speechless, his guilt palpable in the air. the weight of his actions hangs heavy between you.

"i hope you're happy now because you have finally pushed me away," you choke out, your voice trembling with emotion. “goodbye, jack.” with that, you turn and walk away, leaving jack standing in the parking lot, his mouth hanging agape.

as you make your way to the street, you pull out your phone and quickly hail an uber. the car arrives, and you climb in.

as the car pulls away from the curb, you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. you did the unthinkable.

you untangled yourself from jack’s web.

[animatedrapture]

"VORFREUDE."

Summary: Sakusa thinks of you as his vorfreude, his intense anticipation from imagining future pleasures. He swears it's not mere delusions.

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x F!Reader / slight Komori Motoya x Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Genre & Content Warnings: Slight angst. NSFW. Dark content. Yandere behavior. Porn with Plot. Incel/Bully!Sakusa. Virgin!Reader. Abuse. Non-con. Blackmail. Coercion. Misogyny. Slut-shaming. Slight manipulation and mindbreak. Fingering. Corruption. Defloration. Degradation. Vaginal penetration. Creampie.

Notes: Thank you soooo much to the lovely anon who commissioned this! Took a lot longer than it should've cause academics kept cutting in & joint with my anxiety. But yeah, thank you so much :') Thank you Faiwy for the final beta !! <3

If you're thinking about commissioning me, please refer to this post.

You’re a constant, Sakusa thinks.

For as long as he can remember, you’ve been following him and Komori like a lost puppy—whenever they were, you were sure to be there. He can’t think far back enough to remember when it started, but you were insignia of constancy, that was all Sakusa knew.

He listens intently while you talk to Komori from beside him, voice low and stumbling over your words every so often—he knows you're going out of your way to avoid saying something he could use to pull you apart with, piece by piece like a frail little toy.

"How did the test from yesterday go?" Komori questions you, right as your trio made it to the cafeteria.

Your easy-going smile falters at the mention of it. Sakusa already knows the answer. He shares that class with you, after all. He had the front row seat to see your face flushed with humiliation and how rigid your body grew when the professor told you Sakusa would be tutoring you.

Reminding him that out of everything about you, the way you wore your heart on your sleeve is something that insistently rubbed him the wrong way.

First, because he starts thinking about how easy you make it for people to take advantage of you; it makes his blood boil. Then, he starts thinking about every reaction he could get out of you, like how you'd look from beneath him as he used your body the way you wanted him to.

Because you do, don't you? Why else would you go out of your way to adjust to his habits? To carry around your personal sanitizer and wipes, always making sure the space you were in with them was clean.

Nothing else could explain how you strung along with them like loose thread.

It tugs at the heart beneath his ribcage—but whenever he sees you give all your attention to Komori, the betrayal sinks in, and he's reminded what kind of a woman you are.

A whore.

As you laughed nervously, taking a seat across from them, Sakusa wonders if you're having fun, wonders if for a moment you're riddled with guilt as you flirt with his cousin and him at the same time, in the same breath.

"N-no, it didn't turn out very well," you admit in between stutters, embarrassment creeping back in.

Komori frowns empathetically, "I could help you, you know—"

The sparkle in your eyes is quick to appear. God, you're so cunning. It makes Sakusa consider that maybe you failed the test on purpose, thinking this would happen—but that would be giving you more credit than due. You're just a dumb little girl.

"I'm already tutoring them," Sakusa interrupts, and he's unsure whether to be delighted or angered at the way your face falls sullen.

"O-oh right, but—but I'd love to get your help, Motoya-kun—"

The scoff Sakusa lets out is loud, loud enough to make you wince. "You're dumb enough as it is, you don't need distractions," his words come slicing like knife. You sink in your seat.

Komori laughs awkwardly, giving you a smile—sheepish and apologetic—he's so kind, he's always so kind.

Sometimes you wonder how they're actually cousins; until you're reminded that Sakusa hadn't always been this mean to you. He had always been cautious, but he wasn't ever mean like he was out to get you at every ragged edge.

Somehow, though, the closer you got to him—past his defenses and indifference towards you—the meaner he's gotten.

You were like a moth to a flame, not in the sense that you were attracted to its light, but more so like being punished with burn after burn the closer you got.

But your feelings for Komori begged you at every instance to swallow the humiliation down, at each of Sakusa’s degrading remarks.

You take out your packed bento, wiping at the table with wipes before placing it down, the cousins moving to do the same out of adapted habit, until you notice Komori digging in his bag, eyebrows furrowed like he's confused.

"Motoya-kun? What's wrong?"

He turns to you, scratching at the back of his head, "I think I forgot my sanitizer."

You're quick on your hands, offering him yours without missing a beat and Sakusa's reminded of why he even likes you at all.

You were persistent with being able to stick around them. He thought that was remarkable. That you'd never been freaked out by his habits, you respected his space—something he couldn't say with the people who pushed and disregarded his boundaries. That instead of forcing him to adjust to you, you went out of your way for him to be comfortable with you around.

And he's flattered, really. He doesn't have to wonder if he had a chance with you because surely, he does.

Since he's so nice—nicer than a whore like you deserves, he'll let you know your feelings are reciprocated, then he'll fuck you, because surely, that's what you want… Right?

Then maybe, when you're finally his girlfriend, he can start training you to stop being such a flirty slut, that you belong only to him and that you’re nothing but his property.

But for now, he can settle with the warmth in his chest as he notices all the ways you try to get his attention.

Being with Sakusa is hard, even with Komori around, it was nerve wracking. Conversations with him weren't any easier, if anything, they were more dreadful.

When you ask Sakusa about tutoring you, you do it over lunch just so you avoid having to walk up to him alone. His answer is curt when he tells you to come over tomorrow, and that he’ll pick you up from your place; because you can try all you want to outsmart him, but he’d always catch on.

Because Sakusa was smart, and you were just you.

After lunch, you feel nothing but the dread bubbling in the pit of your stomach—churning and thrashing—because no matter how hard you try to push it down, the fact is that you’re actually scared of him.

Scared of the nitpicking he'll scrutinize you with—the way you sat, the way you looked at him, the way you trembled in his presence alone. You start thinking of what to wear, because even something as little as that can put him off—always commenting about how short your skirt is, how you're showing too much skin, how you're probably doing it on purpose.

But it's nothing you're not used to anymore.

So you tug on your fear, push it into a corner, and you tell yourself that Sakusa is mean, and condescending, and harsh, but he wouldn’t hurt you. You pick yourself up from the corner of your mind, and you repeat in your head like a mantra. Sakusa wouldn’t hurt you.

The ring of the bell breaks you out of your reverie. It reminds you that the day has almost ended, and that it felt like a blink faster than it should’ve been. Still, you pull on your things, gathering them to leave the classroom slowly emptying out.

You make a small sound of surprise when your eyes dart over to the door, where Komori stood, an anxious smile on his lips. He looks like he's been waiting for you, making your heart hammer against your chest like it wants to leap out.

Face-flushed and giddy, you walk towards him.

“Hey, Motoya-kun. What’s up?” You smile, all sweet and bright-eyed. From the pit of Komori’s stomach, something flutters. You only ever look like this when your eyes are on him; he thinks he wants to keep it to himself.

He brings a hand up to his hair, lightly scratching at the back of his head with a nervous smile, and it’s awkward in an adorable sort of way. He’s walking beside you along the corridor, it’s slow and the bit of silence between you is calm.

“Ah, well…” He starts, gaze flickering to the floor and back to you indecisively, “I was wondering if I could ask you to the newly opened café tomorrow. A-after you study with Sakusa-kun, of course,” He stutters a bit, offering you a boyish grin.

It so nearly pulls a squeak out of you, surprised in the most love struck sort of way. Your heart beats out of your chest unlike the way Sakusa makes you feel.

Your heart hammers out of fear of him—but with Komori, it's nothing but pleasant and warm and intoxicating.

Your smile is instantaneous; it comforts Komori as your lips part.

"I'd love to," you answer him softly, though an octave higher.

Sakusa finds you both like this, shyly smiling at each other like lovesick doves. There's nothing pure about you, you shouldn't be smiling that way. Especially not at the face of his cousin.

"Oi," he calls out, even through the face mask, his annoyance seeps into your skin and makes you feel small.

The blood that had rushed to your cheeks dries you pale at the glare he gives you.

"Coach is looking for you, Komori," he follows, yet never taking his eyes off of you.

"Right. I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N!"

Sakusa takes another step closer to you the moment Komori's out of sight. Your grip on your bag tightening, instinctively taking a step backwards.

The action alone makes him practically sneer with you cowering in response.

"Disgusting," he mutters, brimming with venom. "There's nothing I hate more than girls who throw themselves at any guy they see."

Maybe it's the sheer malice in his voice, or the way your eyes catch how his hand moves up—but you flinch, like expecting a hit to come across your cheek.

The pain never comes and when your eyelids flutter open, you're met with hard eyes the color of obsidian yet gleaming with a newfound resolve despite his furrowed eyebrows that suggested hitting you was far from the origin of his intentions.

Without a word, Sakusa walks away from you with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket.

You let your body slump against the wall. His eyes burn in the back of your head, almost like they’re warning you.

Right before you head to bed, your phone chimes once, then twice and it’s bittersweet. One from Komori, telling you he’s excited to see you tomorrow, and one from Sakusa—not beating around the bush, it says nothing but ‘9 AM.’

It’s firm and unyielding. Even as your head hits the pillow, forcing your eyes shut, sleep doesn’t come easy—not even at the thought of seeing Komori on a date.

It’s not the sunlight peeking in between your curtains that wake you, nor the sound of birds chirping outside your window. Instead, it’s the ache in your body acting like a bad omen. Nevertheless, you drag your body out of bed.

Your stomach churns but you get ready for the day.

You think the next hour couldn’t come any quicker, because you’re fidgeting on the balls of your feet and somehow, there’s goosebumps rising against your bare skin.

Your phone blinks back at you with a minute before nine o’clock but you already hear the knock on your door. Your breathing halts even as you move hurriedly to open it—and even when the air hits you as you find Sakusa on your doorstep.

You feel his eyes wander, from the very top of your head, down to your feet, and he mutters, “You look nice today.”

The blush that creeps on your cheeks is only natural. Compliments in any form that came from Sakusa were hard to come by—only because they were compliments in the most genuine, honest of ways.

Sakusa is mean, and if you were more honest with yourself, he’s a bully. But Sakusa, mean or not, is still Komori’s cousin; so you give him a smile, palms going clammy.

“Thank you, Sakusa-kun…” You trail off, hesitating on your next words, “You look nice today, too.”

And he does. The dark color of his clothes complimented his pale skin and dark, curly hair, and despite being covered by the mask, his pristine beauty seems to gleam through. Even seemingly unfazed, his gaze on you softens by a fraction.

As abrupt as it appeared, he’s already turning away, “Hurry up,” he quips, but his voice is softer because you look nice today were words that confessed his truest feelings—the ones that reminded him he’s so in love with you and that you’re the cause of warmth in chest.

Even when you strut around trying to get Komori to like you, Sakusa doesn’t attempt to deny the feelings he harbored, because you look nice today, too should mean something, shouldn’t it?

You know you’re dressed up for your date with Komori, but Sakusa doesn’t know that; so in that moment, he appreciates you. For once, there isn't one insult that lingers in his tongue or even in his head as he walks slowly.

Sakusa is nice today, you note as he keys the lock to his place. He had awkwardly placed his hand on the small of your back on the short walk it took from your place to his, guiding you along the sidewalk.

You've only been to his place once or twice, both times were with Komori, so you weren't familiar with the directions. The walk was silent, and in his silence, you found a reason to relax—just enough to make you think that this might go well.

Despite all awkwardness, Sakusa is forward. Seeing you sat on his couch so comfortably, the skirt of your dress riding up slightly, does nothing to hold back his urge to keep his hands on you.

It's a good thing he doesn't have to keep his hands to himself now, right? Since you like him so much, you'd let him fuck you now… Right?

Sakusa's movements are sly, that's why you don't question how he walks closer towards you, sitting so, so close to you—that's why you choke on the lump in your throat when his hand shoots out to grab you by the wrist, pulls you in, then presses his lips on yours.

The second that passes is only because you couldn't wrap your head around Sakusa—lips pressed against yours and body so close.

But the next second, you're pushing him off roughly enough to stop him and he's looking at you confused.

"Sakusa-kun, I think you misunderstood—I like, I like Motoya-kun, I didn't mean to—this is—" you're trampling over your words, looking at him with panicked eyes.

Sakusa mutes out the sound of your voice, all he can hear is the beating in his chest and the ache of it—the sound of his heart dropping to his stomach. He should’ve known.

All the softness in his eyes are gone. His hand, still wrapped around your wrist, gripping tighter and tighter; your heart skipping obnoxiously against your chest. Something about the way he's looking at you now petrifies you.

His silence feels deadlier than his destructive words, deadlier when you wince at his grip, whimpering, "Sakusa, you're hurting me—please," and still, he doesn't let up.

Not when he's roughly tugging you from the couch, taking your arm with a bruising grip, then he's hauling you somewhere. You thrash, panicked pleas calling out to him and apologies he doesn't deserve but you offer him anyway. All your protests are rewarded when he halts, turning to you without a hint of remorse, pushing you to the floor—his foot comes to your side, kicking you with a force that knocks the breath out of your lungs.

Bile is rising up your throat, coughing and arms shooting to your stomach to protect yourself. Scared feels too small of a word to describe the feeling that looms over you as he takes your arm again, dragging your curled up body.

Sakusa shoves you inside a room, even as you flail around and beg for help, his face remains impassive; whatever force you’re putting in the way you try to break free from his hold is futile. Of course he’s stronger. Of course, but you can’t possibly accept this, can you?

You made Sakusa yearn—disgustingly grapple on his feelings so needlessly, and nothing, he thinks, could be more unforgivable.

So he secures you on the bed, bound and within his claws, for you to take responsibility for the yearning you've planted inside of him.

"S-Sakusa, please," your begging sounds like a whimper. "I-I won't tell anyone! N-not even Motoya-ku—!"

You hear ringing in your ears before feeling the sting across your cheek. From inside your mouth, you can taste metal.

"You won't tell anyone either way," he mutters apathetically, like the idea of you telling anyone isn't a threat, "No one would believe you…"

He pauses, gaze on you hardening for a second, "You don't want Komori finding out you only got close to him because you wanted me, right?"

The sound of disbelief that escapes you is small, even the wide-eyed betrayal that flashes in your eyes does nothing to make him even pity you.

"You–I, I didn't—"

At your stuttering, Sakusa clicks his tongue, "You're such a dumb girl you don't even know what you want."

"That's not true, Sakusa—"

He glares down on you. The bed dips, bracketing your body between his knees, hovering over you, then leaning forward. His hands move slowly as if caressing you before grabbing your hair with a stinging tug.

The fear pooling your eyes only makes him even angrier.

"I hate that face," he grits out, "Always looking at me all scared, then you look at Komori like a shy innocent bitch, it pisses me off."

Pretty as you are, he lands another hit across your cheek—hard enough that you can feel a cut on your cheek trickling down with blood, the side of your ear going deaf. You’re not sure anymore if it was a slap or a punch—all that you know is that it hurts. Your vision is blurred when you open your eyes, but even through them, the insanely expressionless eyes of Sakusa are clear.

It dawns on Sakusa that you wouldn’t date him. Of course you wouldn’t. Sluts like you go for guys like Komori—so he’d just have to take you by force, make you date him by force, make you love him by force.

Besides, you look prettier forced, he observes. Your face tear-stained and bloody makes his cock throb in his pants. With your body weak underneath him, so helpless that it disgusts him and fuels him with desire all at once.

Something about your weakness, the innocence that spills from you contradicting his firm idea that you’re a dirty whore makes him livid. He pictures you painted with bruises and cuts, the image sending a shiver down his spine. Clenched fists pull back, only to land on your sides, on the same places he kicked you.

What makes you feel sick at the stomach more than the abuse he inflicts on you is the way Sakusa’s movements lack hesitation as his hands travel to your bare thighs.

"W-what are you doing?”

It's disgusting. Women like you are disgusting. You lead him on just so you can take advantage of his feelings like this—that even if he knew better, he'd still soften up for you.

It's you who lured him into this, he almost sneers at the thought. You were truly vile, and yet he loves you all the same—wants you all to himself all the same.

"Omi?' You breathe, frightened. The nickname falls affectionately, though, putting all your hope into it, wishing it would tug on his heart enough for him to let you go.

“Let’s talk about this, Omi? Please?” You cry, searching for his eyes—the ones trained on your thighs as he glides his hands against them, your dress bunched up to your hips revealing your baby pink panties. Your sobs only grow louder as he goes further up, going on as if he’s in a trance where he can’t hear you groveling at him to stop.

Strong, calloused hands stop at the band of your panties, fingers hooking, and only then does he look back up at you. Dark eyes drown you as he tugs them down torturously slow, exposing you to him in your most vulnerable state.

The same second you attempt to force your legs shut, comes a biting pain on the inside of your thighs, instantly blooming his handprint at the force. Your mouth opens to wail at the pain, but it’s the same wail that Sakusa swallows as he brings his lips to yours with a kiss so treacherously passionate.

Sakusa pulls away quickly though, eyeing your bare cunt, he brings his fingers to your slit, experimentally rubbing up and down and your response is immediate, somehow. Your slick gathers on his fingers, body squirming from beneath him.

“K-Kiyoomi, it feels weird—stop, please,” yet your hips buck into his fingers as he prods at your tight hole, “Don’t—Not there—N-no one has touched—”

He lifts an eyebrow, “You’re a virgin?” His question sounding more of a comment, because the hesitant nod you give him is almost needless when you hiss at the intrusion of his digit pushing inside of you; your walls clamping down on it, body tensing, he brings a thumb to your clit, circling with enough pressure to make it feel good.

And it’s wrong. So wrong, but it feels good because you’re moaning against your will, whimpering at the curl of his finger and at the additional finger he’s slowly sinking into you.

The stretch is uncomfortable and foreign. Nothing is in Sakusa’s mind but at the thought of you absolutely untouched, absolutely all for him to ruin. Your body instinctively leaning to his, submitting to his ministrations—fingers scissoring and pushing in and out of your pussy, the sound of your slick echoing in your ears as if to taunt you, but your legs are trembling, your gasps are broken and there’s a pressure in your pelvis about to snap.

“You’re so filthy,” he mutters, but he looks at you like you’re the farthest thing from filthy, and his comment is exactly what makes you break, eyes rolling to the back of your skull and cunt creaming around his fingers pathetically.

You feel so dirty, especially at the sound of your slick as he pulls his fingers out and shoves them inside your mouth—the taste of you tainting your tongue. Shaking your head profusely, you beg him with your eyes, “No more—please, I don’t want this.” you weep, muffled.

“Suck,” he commands, but your defiance is clear before you even shake your head, so he pushes his fingers down further, choking you until you gag and find it hard to breathe.

“Suck,” he repeats, and you relent.

Watching you suck messily on his fingers, drool and tears disheveling you, dried blood sticking to your skin, he frees his twitching cock out of its constraints.

Though hazy, your eyes catch it, the thickness of his cock—hard and flushed at the tip—your hands tugging at your restraints feebly making you panic and choke on his fingers, nearly biting down on them.

He’s quick to pull them out, glaring down at you with dark eyes, jaw ticking as his hands curl into fists; knowing what’s to come doesn’t prepare you any more at the excruciating pain of his abuse, even more so at his length pressing against your wet folds—cockhead nudging your puffy clit and making your cunt drool on him.

Both hands dig into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them to your chest. The pain on your face numbs at the sensation of him prodding on your entrance, ripping you apart and increasing the pain—your head throbs as he stretches your cunt with his fat cock, barely giving you time to adjust as he starts to move slowly despite your tense walls barely allowing him.

He curses as he ruts into you, bathing in your cries and moans, violating and invading the entirety of you. The pleasure of feeling you and having you just like this seeps into his bones, turning his languid thrusts more desperate.

“You make desperation look so pretty,” he groans, “You’re making such a mess, you like being forced like this?”

He insults you, but you’re everything he always wanted and more—the taste of your skin as he sucks marks onto your neck as if you were his to own, the clenching and humiliating sound of your cunt squelching as he pounds into you and grunts against your skin. His cock throbs inside you and drags along your velvety walls deliciously; all you can think is that you hate this.

Pressure, pain, the drowning pleasure of Sakusa all over you and inside you don’t allow you to retreat to the back of your head and forget. Not with the burning euphoria building up in your stomach or the moan that slips from your lips as Sakusa brings one of your legs down, bringing his hand to your breasts and thumb swiping around your sensitive nipples.

“O-Omi, please,” you sob, weak and submissive—just how you should be. Your nails dig into your palms, arms aching from your restraints. “I-I’m gonna—I think I—”

“Y-you really are a whore,” he spits, voice strained yet patronizing, still. “Do it, then. Cum on my cock.”

His hand moves in between your thighs, fingers pressing and rubbing circles on your clit as you cry out, tight walls clamping down on him and stuttering his already sloppy thrusts, your arousal running down his length and down to his heavy balls slapping against your ass.

Your moans come out as squeals of his name, your back arching and breath catching in your throat, vision going white as he continues to fuck into you.

His breathing is ragged, moving to bury his face into the crook of your neck in an odd show of affection, your swollen cunt pulsating around his cock as he suddenly stills, his low groan vibrating against your skin as he empties inside you.

You want to cry—but nothing comes out, all you can feel is the bruises on your skin, Sakusa’s cock buried deep inside you and his cum leaking from your abused hole, the stickiness and the sweat.

Maybe Sakusa’s right. Maybe you are disgusting, because as he peels himself from you, thinking it’s all over—Sakusa doesn’t undo the ties keeping you on the bed.

He reaches towards the bedside table, grabbing his phone. The sound of the shutter going off once, twice, over and over with the camera directed at you pulls your soul out of you.

“Omi—?” Your question remains a lump in your throat, but Sakusa is smart. He doesn’t need to hear your question.

“You’re my girlfriend now…” He mutters carelessly, “but I’m sure you don’t want Komori to see how you like to be fucked, right?”

[noteguk]

i was wondering how bad influence! jk and oc started interacting? like what made them start talking

[ ! ] this dabble is a prequel to “bad influence”

— words; 1.6k

~

Your professor was looking at you with expectation, the small piece of paper hanging between his fingers like the sword of Damocles over your head. You were staring at him in silence for a few seconds now, and the whole situation was starting to get awkward. 

“So,” he pressed on, dangling the paper in front of your eyes. On it, the name and phone number of one of your classmates. “What do you say?” 

When he asked you to stay after class, you expected it would be something related to tutoring. Your professor had mentioned it in passing a few times before, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise when he told you he had found you someone who really needed your assistance. You were beaming with joy for precisely a minute and twenty one seconds until he revealed the name of your student. 

Jeon Jungkook. 

Before you had any chance to muster an excuse for why you couldn’t — under any circumstance — get close to someone like that, even less tutor him, your professor already had his card up his sleeve. “It’ll be good for your curriculum.” 

And you said yes in a heartbeat. 

~

Jungkook was predictable. You knew that he would be late (after all, his cringy bad boy persona would never allow him to follow one single rule in his life), you just didn’t know it would be almost two-hours-late. By the point that you saw that hurricane in human form walking into the library, you had already finished your homework for the entire week. 

He had the nerve to smirk at you, and you swore an oath to yourself that you wouldn’t present him with the irritation he was expecting. And you didn’t — with all the patience and kind-heartedness that your parents had pushed down your throat your entire life, you put on your best commercial smile and greeted him like he was just in time. 

“Well, now that you’re here, let’s start with the basics and go over some defense cells.” You tugged the heavy Immunology book towards you, quickly flipping the pages towards the chapter that you had chosen for that first session. Jungkook had already taken his typical slouched position on the chair next to you, looking like he was about to slide down to the carpeted floor. “I’d like to know how familiar you are with it, though. Can you start by telling me about the types of lymphocytes?” 

He chuckled, running one hand through his hair. “I have no idea what that shit is.”

You took a deep breath and ignored the irritation that was building up on your stomach. You didn’t know how someone could be so indifferent about everything. “Well... that’s why I’m here,” you managed to keep your voice cheerful. 

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re here because you wanna get paid, princess. No need to play the Good Samaritan.”

You thought about telling him that you weren’t getting paid, but the idea wasn’t the best one. He’d probably mock you even more for wasting your Friday afternoon tutoring in the name of your curriculum. Not that he knew the importance of that, anyways. 

“This is some bullshit.” Jungkook rested his head on his crossed arms, lying over the table, pushing away your pens and notebooks as he did so. His black hair fell over his features as he grouchily mumbled out, “I don’t even know why I chose this class, it has nothing to do with my major.”

You were surprised that he was even majoring in something, instead of just frequenting the campus as an excuse to meet girls. “Well, I can't answer that for you, can I?” You asked, tapping on his book’s hardcover. That little antibody drawing was staring at you in a silent mockery, wondering if you’d be able to make him study — or even care about anything. “But I can help you with the rest. Now, come on. Types of lymphocytes.”

His eyebrows came down to form a confused frown. Jungkook would’ve probably given you the same reaction if you had just called his mother all the filthy names you could think of. “You’re really trying to teach me?” He asked. “Like, for real?” 

You sighed. The time you taught your little cousin how to read was less frustrating than that. “It’s kind of my job as a tutor, you know.”

Jungkook rose from his position and leaned back against the chair, his arms crossing before his chest. Beneath them, his strong pecs stressed against the fabric of his white shirt, but you refused to look. “You know that you can just pretend to teach me, I can pretend to learn, and you’re gonna get your credits anyways, right?” He asked as if you were the stupidest person he had ever met. “You don’t need to actually put in the effort, princess. Especially since I don’t give any fucks about immunology.” 

If he called you that stupid pet name one more time, you swore you were going to knock him out. “Well, I’m already here, I’d rather do things right.”

He scoffed, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes. “God, you’re so booooring,” he groaned. “Don't you have some charity work to do or something?” 

“I’m doing it right now.” You smiled. “I can see that you’re really trying to fail this class, don’t get me wrong. But I’m just trying to do my job—“

“Boooooring,” he sang, louder than the librarian would ever allow if she was close enough to hear him. Jungkook looked back at you, his eyes narrowed. You couldn’t really tell if he was disgusted or just annoyed. “Why do you even care? It’s just some stupid class, it doesn’t even matter. I’ll tell the professor you taught me everything and we can both go home.” 

“I can’t do that,” you said, firm. 

“Why not?” 

“First of all, because that’s wrong,” you told him. Just as you were about to say that, also, his unavoidable horrible grades would make clear that he hadn’t learned shit (which would make you look like a clown instead of a tutor), his laugh ruptured your sentence. 

“Oh, come on. You’re kidding me.” He smiled brightly — not a tender one, of course, but one full of perverse mockery. You had never met someone as condescending as Jungkook, and he was managing to push every single button inside you. “That’s wrong? What are you, six?” 

You frowned. “You’re the child here, just trying to find a easy way out instead of putting in the eff—“ 

“What are your dreams, princess?” He interrupted again, leaning his head to the side. You really, really, really hated him. “Wait, no, let me guess. A family, a suburban house, and a dog? A nine to five? Something like that? Having your husband cheat with the babysitter before you’re forty?”

Some part of you knew that he was just trying to make you so angry that you would give up on tutoring him. Jungkook didn’t know that you wouldn’t throw away your obligations so quickly, but he was able to make you mad enough to get an answer. “What are yours?” you spat, kindness long forgotten. “Remaining unemployed, talentless, mentally trapped in your twenties, and fucking desperate milfs for money until you die from an early overdose?” 

If your priest had heard you talk like that, he would most surely faint. 

Jungkook, however, didn’t seem so horrified. In fact, his disgusted smile quickly morphed into a diverted one, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Uh,” he mumbled. “Interesting.”

The shame from your previous outburst was starting to weigh down on you, but you managed to keep it undercover. “What?” 

“Didn’t know you had a mouth on you,” he said, clearly entertained. In a way, you were glad that he hadn’t taken your words to heart, because he could probably snap you in half if he was feeling like it. “You’re always so shy and shit. I thought you were going to cry.” 

“I’m not shy,” you spoke, defensive. You had gotten close to shedding a couple tears, but he didn’t need to know that. You hated confrontation. “I just don’t wanna talk to people like you unless I’m obligated to.” 

He raised his eyebrows — a silent threat. “People like me?”

There was a second of hesitation from your part that Jungkook didn’t miss. “Yes.” You couldn’t hold his piercing gaze. As much as Jungkook was annoying the shit out of you, you didn’t actually want to have a full-blown argument with him. Especially on university grounds. “People who can’t even tell me about lymphocytes. Now, are you done with your victimization session? Can we start, or do you wanna tell me more about how you’re burning college money and you are so superior because of it?” 

He chuckled and looked you up and down — actually looked at you. Weirdly enough, it felt like the first time that Jungkook was actually seeing you, and not the empty shell of a stereotype that he had built for you in his peanut-sized brain. “You’re really trying here, aren’t you?” He asked. 

You didn’t know if he was talking about the tutoring session anymore, but you decided not to bite. “Is that a sin now?” And, before he could say anything else, you added, “Page 124. Come on. Unlike you, I don’t have all day to sit around doing nothing.” 

He smirked. “You’re more fun than you look, princess.” 

And, for the first time, Jeon Jungkook wasn’t predictable — he actually opened the book on the page you told him to. 

~

One hour later, he was already dozing off, a small puddle of saliva accumulating on top of his chaotic notes. Still, you counted that as a victory. 

~

BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

[theaufanartist]

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶.”

Choi Jong Ho💖(spin off to the Min Gi series)

“Hey, have you heard that professor Lee is going on a break for a month?”You whisper, while your best friend was pretty invested in reading a book in the library.

“Okay,”she says, before diving back again into where she was.

“C’mon, who’s gonna teach us for a month now? She was the best,”you slump down in the chair next to her, pouting at the assignment in front of me. You sigh and look at her.

“Seriously? You’ve read this book like a thousand times!” You whisper yell.

“So what? I still love it,”she says, smiling. Shaking your head, you get up from your seat, taking your assignment. She looks up at you, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ve a lecture with Ms Cho. I really do wonder, what made me take this stupid subject?”

“Hmm, lets see. Three words. Choi. Jong. Ho,”she sneers at you.

“Hmm, sounds about right,”you teasingly wink at her, blowing a kiss.

“See you in the class, buttercup,”you say, bidding her goodbye.

Coming out of the library, you make way towards the class you despised the most. Then, why were you so excited to attend it?

Three words, as your best friend quoted a few minutes ago.

Choi Jong Ho. Cousin of Choi San, one of the hottest seniors on campus, best friend of Song Min Gi, your best friend’s ex.

When you walk in the class, your eyes first search for that person you wanted to see before this cursed class begins. You finally find him sitting at the back , running his hand through his hair, a habit you never though you would ever find attractive, talking to his best friend, Seungmin; both being the top of the class.

Ho’s eyes meet yours and he sends you a smile. You turn your face away, not letting him or anyone see the blush creeping on my face. He looks down at his open book and smiles, but quickly pulls himself back to Seungmin’s talks.

“Alrighty, kiddos,”Mrs Cho booms in the class, a thick stack of paper in her hands, looking disappointed. You bite down on your lower lip in nervousness, because you knew that the stack that devil of a woman was holding, was the testament of your absurdity in understanding the evil subject of calculus.

“So, I’ll pass over the papers, go through them,”she says,”and please, for the love of God, if you don’t know the answer, please don’t write “Hello Mrs Cho, I really don’t like the subject, but please consider this more like an apology, than a fact, cause I think I’ll go with the latter for myself, but is the answer 8799?””

Well, that was you.

You tried not to get seen by her. She passed the papers in the crowd, giving you the stink eye. You already knew that you won’t get the best marks, but you didn’t even realise that you would fail. You gave out a low whine, and ducked you head in your hands. Shaking your head, you stuffed the paper in your bag, and tried to concentrate in the class for the next forty three minutes. After the class ended, you tried to make your way to the door quickly, trying to avoid any contact. But, you couldn’t avoid Mrs Cho. She called you.

“You do know that you performed terribly,”she says, looking at you. You gave her a small nod.

“I’ll definitely try to improve, Mrs Cho,”you say. She hums, and waves her hand, dismissing you. You let out a soft sigh, and make your way towards the library. You take out your test, and get up to find some reference books for studying.

“Stupid class, stupid Choi, stupid pretty face,”you keep mumbling, till someone clears their throat. You freeze in your spot. Turning around, you find Seungmin staring at you, an amused smile plastered on his face.

“Stupid Choi, huh?”he says, tilting his head in a teasing way.

“Uh, um, what do you want?”you ask him, trying to hide your nervous state.

“A little birdie told me that you joined this class because of someone,”he says, standing next to you, going through books. You look at him wide eyed, but quickly gain your composure.

“You’re bluffing,”you say, narrow eyed. He smirks, and turns to look at you.

“Well, not if the little birdie was you,”he says, making you slap a hand on your mouth.

“Were you eavesdropping on us!!!???”you ask him, which makes him giggle.

“I didn’t mean to, but yeah, when I heard someone talking about Mrs Cho, I wanted to see who it was, but then, your best friend reveals it,”he says, making you facepalm yourself with the book in your hand.

“See, I know you are his best friend, but please don’t tell him,”you say. He pretends to think a little over what you say, and smiles at you.

“I can try, but well, what will I get in return?”he asks.

“Free food?”you reply, sheepishly smiling. He smirks at you, and leaves. You give out a sigh of relief. Seungmin wouldn’t sell you out, right?

The next day, while you tried studying in the library, you heard the chair opposite to you, screech. You tried not looking at the person in front of you, and tried solving the problems on your own.

“I think you’re doing that wrong,”you hear someone whisper. You look up from your book and see the last person you expected to see.

Choi Jong Ho.

He smiles at you, and takes the notebook and pencil from you, and solves it. You’re still in shock as to why would he do that. But, he was Jong Ho. He loved helping others.

“Here you go. You were supposed to find the f(x) over here,”he explains, but you were totally lost in how soothing his voice sounded. All the frustration that you were feeling while solving a few moments ago vanished into thin air.

“Thank you, Jong Ho,”you say, trying to avoid seeing him in the eye. He smiles at you, mumbling a “no problem” and gets back to solving his assignment. While you were practising problems, Jong Ho was stealing glances at you. You seemed like the shy type, but not that shy one. You knew when to speak up. He liked how you always stood with your best friend, and how his cousin always talked about you. San always treated you like his small sister. He recollects what Seungmin told him,

Past.

“Dude, you’ve got to make a move on her. I heard about her best friend talking with her. She likes you!”

“You’re joking,”he says, waiting for you to enter the classroom.

“Have I ever lied?”

“But, you definitely tease,”he retorts, making Seungmin smirk.

“Yeah,”he says, laughing, “but that’s not the point. She has always caught your attention. So, why aren’t you doing something?”

“How am I supposed to do that?”he asks, looking down at the open book in front of him. Then he sees you enter the classroom, smiling at him.

“Yeah, you’re whipped,”Seungmin teases, making Jong Ho send a glare his way.

Present

“Hey Jong Ho,”you manage to calm your nerves and call him. He looks at you, and nods. You pass your book at him.

“Is that correct?”you ask him. He looks through your steps. Taking the pencil, he marks something and keeps solving. Then he passes the book your way.

“You see, the derivative wasn’t the only answer you had to find. You had to keep on adding x to it,”he explains. You close the book and rest your face in your palms.

“Yep, I’m definitely failing this test, too,”you mumbled. He looks at you, but can’t help smiling.

“Why don’t I tutor you?”he suggests, meekly. You look at him, wide eyed, but you even see that his ears have turned red. Was he shy?

You mentally cooed at how cute he looked.

“Would you really do that?”
”I mean, why not?”

“Oh my god, Jong Ho, you’re a godsend!”you whisper exclaim, making him giggle. You smile at him, and the rest of the day, he helps you get through the sums.

***********a month later***********

“So, they got back together!”you exclaim, giddy with excitement. Jong Ho simply smiles at you. You kinda hung out with Jong Ho & Seungmin after classes, and walk with your best friend & San, home. Seungmin was side eying Jong Ho, who was busy smiling and making googly eyes at you.

“So, do you like someone?”Seungmin asks, making you and Jong Ho freeze. You were perplexed because you thought he was trying to get it out of you, but why did Jong Ho’s face turn red? Did he like someone, too?
”Uh,”you say, laughing awkwardly, “we need to go practise sums. The test is tomorrow,”you say, trying to dissolve the awkwardness. Seungmin hums, and you three walk to the library.

Hours pass and you were still solving. Seungmin packs his bag, and bids you both goodbye, leaving you and Jong Ho, together. You both were sitting side by side. Throughout these days, physical touches didn’t matter much. Brushing of hands, bumping your hands, laying your head on each other’s shoulders didn’t really matter. So what changed today? Was it the question that Seungmin asked?

“Hey,”Jong Ho asks, poking your hand.

“Huh?”

“What’s wrong? You’ve been zoning out a lot,”he says.

“It’s…..nothing,”you say, trying to solve the questions in front of you.

“Tomorrow is the test, finally,”you say, making him give you a curt smile.

“So, uh, you’ll stop hanging out with me from tomorrow?”he asks, making you look at him.

“Why would you think like that, Jong?”you ask, your attention wholly on him. He was fidgeting with his fingers.

“I, uh, um,”he stutters, making you feel confused. You hold his hand, stopping him from fidgeting. He looks at you.

“I wanted to say something since a long time, now,”he says, now your turn to nervously fidget with your fingers. He turns to look you in the eye. Holding your hand, he rubs his thumb over your knuckles.

“I like you.”

Your eyes widen. You surely did not expect this. Your crush of three years, confessing?

“I don’t actually like you. I’ve been in love with you, ever since Sannie hyung introduced you. I’ve always wanted to say this, but you seemed so out of my league-“

“Hold up-out of YOUR LEAGUE? THE CHOI JONG HO’S LEAGUE? I LITERALLY JOINED THIS STUPID CLASS BECAUSE OF YOU-“

Uh oh..that shouldn’t have happened. You stop midway, hoping he didn’t hear the last part, but he definitely did. His eyes widen comically, but his lips slowly curve into a smirk.

“So, you joined this class because of me?”

“You weren’t supposed to know that!”you say, facepalming. He slowly removes your hands, and looks at you.

“Now, now, don’t leave me hanging,”he asks, slowly leaning in.

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶,” you say, closing the distance between you. You feel him smile in the kiss, that makes you smile, too.

Breaking it, he pecks your lips again, making you giggle, and boop his nose with yours.

“So, what does this make us?”he asks you, hand in hand, walking towards your home.

“Many people would consider this as dating, but whatever floats your boat,”you reply sarcastically. He twirls you around, hands on your waist.

“Never knew you were this sarcastic, hm?”he says, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, pecking your lips.

“Okay kids, this is clearly not a good place to kiss,”you hear someone speak, making you both look at San, with an amused face, “considering most of us are single.”

“Now, now, Sannie hyung, gimme the sugar,”you hear Seungmin speak. San unwillingly takes out a $20 bill, and places it in his hands.

“Did you guys bet on us?”Jong Ho asks, surprised.

“Yes. Hyung thought you won’t get your girl, and I knew you would end up together,”Seungmin says, smiling widely.

“Well,”San speaks up, nearing you both, “I’m glad you guys ended up together.”

You both look at them, then at each other, smiling.

“We’re glad, too.”

[dreamiesdotcom]

perhaps, Cupid | nct dream

Summary: You lay down in your bed, watch 13 change to 14 as the clock passes 11:59. You close your eyes, sigh, and hope that the world stops at 12:00 before promptly deciding that Valentine's Day is cancelled.

word count: 2.3k

moon's note: idk why but i usually give gifts during occasions... and out of random... but since its v-day and i caNT give y'all any gifts because idk which part of the world you lovelies are at, so maybe you can please have 2322 words of my nonsense? I tried

When Lee Jeno, the infamous Na Jaemin's best friend, walked inside the room to the dance club's meeting room with all sheepish 'Hello's and eye-smiles, you underestimated just how much havoc he could bring into your life. He seemed way too soft for his own good like he had no mischief under his sleeve — the exact reason why when he poked your sides to get your attention and asked you if you'd "help the dumb kids get together", you were more thrilled than concerned.

Right now, you think you should've agreed with Renjun and said 'that's a bad idea'.

Donghyuck, Jaemin's dormmate, wasn't even there when you planned things out, but well, you blame him. Jaemin bitterly staring at Jisung as the younger gets cuddled by Chenle? Hyuck's fault. Jisung blushing incomprehensible whenever it's Jaemin's turn to dance? Hyuck's fault. It's been days and resident sweet boy absolutely makes no move to court Jisung? Hyuck's fault as well.

"This pining is painful to watch," even Renjun can't help but point out even if he didn't even agree to the plan. Jeno sends you a victorious smile. "Jaemin, he's crushing hard on you."

"Yes, but what if he doesn't like me because—" you don't even get to clearly hear his reasons. You shake your head. Jeno's smile falters.

Jaemin sulks a lot about Jisung spending more time with Renjun than he does with Chenle, and asks the other if Jisung has a crush on him. Renjun groans in loathing, asks him to just go and make a move and repeats the same speech for days. Days turn to weeks, weeks turn to months, and absolutely nothing happens.

Oh, well, maybe something did. Maybe along the way, you realized that Lee Jeno is one hell of an attractive man.

"Heaven's, Jeno, stop it! Stop pushing me to the side, I can't see what they're doing!"

"They're reading a book for the subject Jisung's tutoring Jaemin in."

"It's a library. Aren't you just inquisitive? That's why they're here. Now let me see!"

"Y/N!"

"Jeno!" you hiss back, still whisper-yelling turning to decently state at him only to find that he's already looking at you. You tilt away in shock, "Flippity pancakes, distance!"

You see, when you start matchmaking, the goal is to get people together — definitely not fall in love with your partner in crime.

"Just say fuck, no one would kill you," he hisses back. The same whining tone is there as he peeks on the other table, "Saying 'flippity pancakes' in a weird accent doesn't wash away your intentions, so just say it already."

"No."

"I dare you."

"No!"

"I double-dare you."

"Jeno."

"Y/N."

"No."

"Do it," he huffs,"Say 'fuck'."

The way he mouths it as if teaching a child to say their first words make you burst out laughing, and for the rest of the day, you forget the mission and get lost into playing games of your own in the library, muffled hums and all. Renjun decides that he's not gonna get any studying done at this table and waves you both goodbye, and you watch as Jeno smiles at him, an expression worthy to compare to that of a luminous star.

And oh, you're in love.

It wasn't all your fault, though. Jeno was way too pretty, too lovely to not fall for. It just so happens that like the fate of you and all things beautiful, you don't deserve him.

You don't deserve him, so he never gets to know.

###

"Be my date for Valentine's day?"

"Hell no."

Apparently, his family has this little gathering that coincidentally matched that time, and he stubbornly refuses to go alone. Why you ask? No reason. He just doesn't want to 'go alone and be forced to socialize with mean cousins' and you spent most of the time teasing about how he's probably one of the mean kids in his family. The rest of the bus ride on the way to school remains silent aside from the neverending proposals and bribings — "I'll treat you candy for one month! I'll do whatever you say for three months! I'll even do your assignments!"

It would be a lie to say it's not tempting, but oh, isn't this just the perfect opportunity to ask Jisung out? The enthusiasm in Jeno's eyes matches yours, and the answer is obvious here: Exactly.

For a whole different reason, the bus ride home is silent too. You sit side by side in pure quiet, Jaemin tugging at your sleeves every now and then to gain your attention. You brush him off, keeping your head against the glass with your eyes closed. You don't speak even after getting inside his apartment and the indifference makes Donghyuck pause halfway his concerned nagging, deciding to usher Renjun and Jeno out with such lame excuse of buying ingredients for dinner.

You go straight to their bathroom to get some supplies, and Jaemin sits on the couch, antsy. He silently curses Donghyuck for leaving, Huang Renjun and Lee Jeno too, those traitors. You sit in front of him, doing your stuff without making eye contact.

"Please talk to me—"

"Shut up."

A dejected whimper leaves his lips, and you quite possibly break. You sigh as if to calm down, and you mutter a warning: "Don't."

"But why aren't you talking to me?"

Why... why would you even ask that?

"You promised me, Jaemin. You made a promise to me." you coldly say, dainty fingers pressing cotton against the cut in his lip. "You promised me that you'll stop getting into fights."

Realization seems to flash in his eyes. He seems torn between reasoning and apologizing, but first, he chases after the hand you pulled away from him. You shrug him off harshly this time.

"I did, for the longest time, you saw that! But he called Jisung a—" he looks at you with betrayed eyes, as if a kicked puppy. He never liked that tone. He never liked how distant that felt coming from you, so tears brim his eyes. "Don't be so cold to me..."

"Jisung let him be. Isn't that enough hint that it's not worth it?" your tone remains the same. The fear in your chest remains stubborn, and no matter how many times he squeezes the hand he's holding, it doesn't bring you ease. It only urges tears that you try so hard to hold back as you croak out,

"Jaemin, this will not make him fall in love with you."

The world seems to pause.

"But I already love him." He answers quickly, honestly, and the raw sincerity in his tone is just a fine, thorough stab in the gut. "And I just want to protect him."

It's painful how you're not even regretting this as much as you should — maybe, part of the reason you keep on chasing him is because it's painful. True to your twisted self, maybe it's the sole reason after all. You don't know why you keep on doing this to yourself — you hate it. You hate how the more things hurt you, the deeper you fall. You hate how you can't seem to tear away from him as quick as possible because you know that what comes next will be even more painful, and might even destroy you.

With all these thoughts inside your mind, you let him lean his head in the crook of your neck, holding him in the way you always wanted. Selfishly, you hope that it could always be like this.

"I know, Nana..." you whisper, his locks soft as silk as you brush them with your fingers. "and for the exact same reason, I want to protect you too."

You take a deep, shaky breath. "So don't hurt yourself. Not for anyone, not for the world... no matter how much you love them."

Why is it so easy to say the things that'd keep you safe, but so hard to even attempt just following them? It's as if the Universe wants you hurt, wants to see you bleed unshed blood. It doesn't make sense.

The rules have been pretty simple; never fall in love. You're helping people get together — you come later, priorities first. Don't fall in love; not with your partner, not with your other accomplices, and especially, not with the fools you're helping.

The rule has been simple. Only that you think, it was way easier to break them than to follow, and you've failed this rule pretty early on.

Just how can you not adore Na Jaemin?

###

You laugh loudly, almost hitting your head to your headboard as you look at Jisung's post. In the picture, Jaemin smiles bubbly, and the caption's way too cheesy to read. Even though you were the one who helped them get together, it's still hard to believe that they actually did, these messes of human beings. You type out a quick 'Congrats to surviving one year together. Give credits to my brain cells, pls' and then turning the device off.

You lay down in your bed, watch 13 change to 14 as the clock passes 11:59. You close your eyes, sigh, hope the world stops at 12:00 before promptly deciding that Valentine's Day is cancelled.

Your phone vibrates in your hold, and you grumble.

From: not hyuck

Hi

It's Valentine's day

Let's use that as an excuse to get ice cream at midnight

You stir, set on ignoring his message, but you quickly shoot up once you hear the sound of something — hopefully not pebbles, God, let it not be pebbles — hitting your window. Seriously?!

To: not hyuck

Is that

Is that you throwing stones at my fucking window

STOP YOU MIGHT BREAK THE GLASS

And that's exactly how you found yourself with sticky fingers from the desert's residue, watching red lights cover the city in celebration of love. It seems ironic. Today of all days, you don't feel dear at all — it's alright, you convince yourself, it's been a year and it's hurting less now.

It's all lies, of course. It doesn't matter that it wasn't this painful all the other days; what matters is that now it hurts, and it fucking hurts like hell.

From up here, if you spread your arms and think hard enough, the wind would make it seem as though you're flying. You do just like that, the flavor of vanilla suddenly so bitter on your tongue as you realize that there's no escape. Oh, how you hate this day. It makes you chuckle.

Renjun sighs, "What's troubling you?"

"Fun. What gave me away?"

"Your eyes." He shrugs. "They sure tell more things about you than your mouth does."

"How do they look?" you ask out of curiosity, unconsciously moving up to feel your lashes. "My eyes..."

"Well, right now... they look kind of conflicted. Sad. Happy. Somewhere in between, like the person who owns them... doesn't really know. And, well, they're incredibly..." Renjun ponders for a bit; beautiful, he wanted to say. "Hard to read."

"Doesn't sound like it if you said that much."

Did it sound so rude that you were nonchalant? Probably. You're too tired to mind, though. It'd be a lie to say you didn't expect this, to feel alone once they get together, to be scared of being erased in their lives, to be afraid of being less important now. You knew none of them would be real, but that doesn't stop you from being afraid. Would it make sense to say you don't care at all, at this point? To say you don't give a damn when truly, you do. You care so much you feel indifferent.

"You liked them, didn't you?"

And then comes along the question you're most afraid of.

"You were in love with Jisung... now, you're in love with Jaemin." he muses to himself, "Yet you're the one making sure they end up together. What the hell are you?"

Since there's no place for lies in friendship...

"Do you see the way they look? They deserve to be happy, and me... well. Well, I..." you search for words you can't seem to find. After all, you don't even know where to go now — isn't this what you wanted? For Jisung and Jaemin to get together. What's this all about? You bemusedly shake your head, "Should've just fallen for you, huh."

Accelerate, heartbeat, flying — you turn to look at his direction — your eyes tell, your eyes say so much... how do you feel?

"You'd catch me, right, Renjunnie?"

"I'm not some back-up plan, excuse you." He rolls his eyes, huffing, "But, why not? Certainly. Would be my pleasure."

You stare at him in wonder, awestruck, amused and amazed. It's just a random joke you made so you wouldn't have to answer him truthfully, but goddamn, this — you feel oddly seen, chosen; as if you've never been chosen before. Maybe he's right. His heart picks up speed as more minutes pass in silence, so he looks away and smiles sheepishly.

Renjun closes his eyes briefly, "You didn't answer my question, though. To do whatever the hell you were doing... what the fuck are you?"

Both poison and sugar linger on your lips as you smile.

"Perhaps, Cupid."

Maybe, yes, right, Cupid. Makes sense. A matchmaker who creates perfect love, and quite possibly, trouble. Always setting people up but maybe not themselves. Renjun agrees, and so he whispers,

"Suits you. An angel."

You stare at him again, only this time around it's soft but startled, and for a brief moment of losing himself, Renjun whispers in his mind — hey, Cupid. Love me, will you?

Instead, in the real world, he gives you the same exact gaze — only fonder. Renjun knows. He knows that you fell in love thrice in this journey; once, with Park Jisung, another, with Lee Jeno, and lastly, with Na Jaemin. 

Maybe, just maybe, Renjun wishes that at this tale of Valentine's chapter closed, you'll fall in love with him too.

[sunaswife]

A Suna Rintarou Series |

Summary: Suna was the best boyfriend you could ask for, after fighting with your inner demons that screamed you were ugly, worthless, and annoying. You finally decided to go the next step with your boyfriend, only to find out it was all a game.

A\N: Part 5!!!! Lajauwjshwisjsusjs lol

Warnings: underaged drinking, smut, guys talking badly about women, heartbreak, messed up shit that you shouldn’t do and a bit of fluff if you squint

Disc three-slide one: Kageyama Y/N 🤍

You hummed quietly as you grabbed your books from your locker. Completely unaware of the boy behind you. “Hi Kageyama.” You heard a whisper in your ear. You jumped and put a hand over you chest. “Jesus, Miya.” You sigh but quickly push that aside. “I wanted to see who stole my boy Suna’s heart.” Atsumu gave a closed eye smile.

You blushed and looked away as the twin stared down at you. “You’re so much cuter than how Suna described you, ya know.” He said and you covered your face in embarrassment but your ears gave it all away due to your neatly kept ponytail. Atsumu thought it was so funny and cute how flustered you got with such little words. “Thanks i guess, is there anything I can help you with?” You asked. “You’re working on that project with Suna during lunch right?” He asked and you nodded.

“Darn.” He snapped his fingers and put his hand on his hip. He seemed to be in deep thought. “I need help with chemistry so I was wondering if you could help me study for an upcoming exam.” He chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. “I’d be more than happy to help you out, Miya. But you have practice before and after school, and I’m booked during lunch because of the project.” You frowned.

“I know.” He sighed, “Guess I’ll try to ask ‘samu but he yells and I don’t like the way he teaches.” He whined. You fiddled with your fingers not knowing what to say, I mean you wanna help him out. If he fails his test he won’t be able to play volleyball and you don’t want that. “I-if you want...I can tutor you after practice for a bit...” you spoke up completely unaware of your fox like boyfriend towering behind you. “Tutor for what?” You heard and long arms wrapped around your waist from behind. Suna rested his chin on your head and gave pissy hair a glare.

“Rin—I thought we agreed on no PDA...” your face was flushed red. “But princess, how am I supposed to show players like ‘Tsumu that you’re my girlfriend.” It sounded more like a statement than a question. “He just needs a tutor for chemistry..” you answered honestly. “Is that so..? Can I join the study party too? I’m not doing so hot in chemistry as well.” Suna admitted and you turned your head to look at him. “I don’t see why not..” you told him.

Before you knew it his hand grabbed your chin and he stole your lips into a kiss. You kissed back but quickly pulled away because you were at school and now everyone was looking at you three. You looked back at Atsumu and his eye twitched when he looked at your boyfriend.

“So today after practice is fine?” You asked and they both looked down at you and nodded. “Okay, I’ll see you both later.” You said simply and pulled away from Suna’s grasp. You closed your locker with your needed books in hand and you walked away. You head was down and your books covered your face to hide your blush.

“Bitch what was that?!” You friend whisper yelled and shook your shoulder. You looked at her and shook your head, “I honestly don’t know.” You said. “Are you dating, Suna?” She asked and you nodded. “Eeeep! I need details later okay?” She asked with a wink and you hesitantly nodded. “Bye bye!” She waved and you waved back to head to your first class.

You shared a class with Suna so when he sat next to you to pair up for the project again everyone was looking at your every move. Almost everyone saw what went down by your locker and Suna didn’t seem like the type to do something so bold. Let alone with the top student of the class. Word spreaded around fast like wildfire and Suna was satisfied. All that PDA that went down in the morning was forgotten in his mind and he never touched you for the rest of the day.

You were originally going to go to the library after school to wait for the boys but Atsumu persistently asked if you could come see their practice. You eventually agreed and wondered When was the last time you’ve been on a volleyball court.

Atsumu was chatting your ear away about how good of a setter he was and he started explaining what a setter is and you tried not to laugh because you know how volleyball works and not only were you a good setter in middle school but your cousin is an amazing setter as well.

But he seemed so happy you didn’t want to burst his bubble. “Well well well, who do we have here?” You heard and turned around. “‘Samu! Look isn’t Suna’s girlfriend cute!~” Atsumu patted your head and you removed his hand. “She’s so adorable I just wanna gobble her up.” He gave a smirk to Suna’s way and they both shot daggers at one another. You stood in between them completely oblivious to their fighting and you gave a slight bow to Osamu. “Nice to meet you. Rin has told me a lot about you. It’s nice to know he has a good friend.” You smiled softly.

Osamu coughed and looked away,

Why are you so fucking cute?!

Suna really did get such a cute girlfriend. “It’s nice to meet you too, please take care of Suna and my idiot brother since he told me you would tutor him today.” He said and you nodded. “Whatever, we’re gonna be late. Y/N, wait by the gym entrance for our captain, Kita or the coach.” Suna said and you nodded. He gave you a small smile and he walked away to the club room with the twins following behind him.

The coach arrived first and asked who you were and you explained that you would be tutoring Suna and Atsumu after practice. You apologized for barging in but he shook his head and said that it was fine.

“If you don’t have anything to do, do you mind helping me out with a few things while they practice?” He asked and you shook your head. “I don’t mind what do you need help with?” You asked. He gave you several tasks such as a small inventory in the storage area, filling up the water bottles and getting the colored vests ready for a practice match. You were honestly buzzing with excitement, you haven’t seen a volleyball game so up close in ages. Even if it was simply a practice match. You managed to meet the rear of Inarizaki’s volleyball team and Kita was very kind to you and it made you wish he was your older brother.

You helped out the coach more by taking a few notes for him as he talked and you thanked god you were such a fast note taker because you managed to get every single word down. Everyone on the team especially the twins and your boyfriend noticed how good and natural you worked around the court. “Suna ask her to be team manager.” Osamu nudged him. “Hell no.” He shook his head. He sees you enough during class, and in all honesty he doesn’t wanna actually catch feelings for you. You were naturally sweet and he didn’t want to feel more like a piece of shit.

“Why does Suna have to ask her?” Ojiro asked, by this time everyone turned to look at the three second years and Atsumu spoke up with a smirk. “She’s Suna’s girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?!” They all repeated in shock.

“What the fuck does she see in you anyways? Poor girl must be blind.” Hitoshi said which lowkey pissed off your boyfriend. “Nah he’s more like her Prince Charming because he was so romantic on their first date.” Atsumu teased which caused Suna’s ears to turn red. “That’s hard to believe.” One of their teammates spoke up. “Either way I think, Kageyama is doing a good job. If he won’t ask her, I will.” Kita said seriously and the three second years gulped.

The gym doors opened and the team they would be up against arrived.

Previously

Next Part

Series Masterlist

AN: UGH THANKS FOR ALL THE SUPPORT! I love you all! THIS IS MY FIRST SERIES AND IM GLAD YALL LIKE IT 🥺

Taglist: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @compromised-rodent @atsunflower @kagsh0e @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @tomo-uwu @woshimai @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @chichi-chanischibi @changkyunslovespot @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @sarahvvictoria @tris-does-stuff @lovinnoya

[lorelylantana]

Savageries of the Heart Chapter 1: Courtship

SFW

Next

Zelda always hesitated outside of the King Daphnes’ door. Bracing herself for the twinge of disappointment that always came when she entered the room to find her father’s chair occupied by her uncle, she straightened her spine and stepped into the room with a schooled expression and a head held high.

“You called for me, your Majesty?” she asked, folding her hands in front of her abdomen as she stood in front of his desk. He didn’t acknowledge her for a moment, signing off one last document before looking up at her with a radiant smile that sent a chill down Zelda’s spine.

“Excellent news, my darling Zelda, I’ve found a husband for you.”

She sucked in a breath, “My husband?”

“Yes, my dear, at long last you're getting married! It was a challenge, mind you, but I’ve arranged for you to marry quite the accomplished Zonai warrior.”

She was speechless. As the first born of the royal family, Zelda harbored no false hopes of marrying for love, but she had at least hoped to stay within Hyrule’s borders, where she could at the very least continue her research. 

“The temple will never allow it,” she insisted with a voice that shook in tandem with her beating heart. The smile on his face spread wider, though his eyes grew colder.

“The temple has always put too much stock on a bloodline bedtime story. Your mother was a gifted mage, but if present company is anything to go by,” he stood to walk around his desk and loom over her, “it was hardly a divine inheritance.”

“Zonai authority is established through combat prowess,” Zelda pointed out, “I fail to see why they would be interested in marrying me for my blood.”

“It doesn’t matter why they want you!” he snapped, the pleasant veneer of politeness cracking. He took a breath before placing heavy hands on Zelda’s shoulders, forcing them down into a slouch.

“What you don’t understand, Zelda dearest,” the King pushed through his teeth, “Is that we are vulnerable. Our military has been in shambles for an age, and ever since that wretched coup we have been surrounded by factions that refuse to fall in line. With the Zonai on our side, those other races will think twice before moving against us.”

In the ten thousand years since the continent was fractured there was never one incident that pointed to ambitions of conquest from any of the other five nations, but that didn’t matter to Zelda’s uncle, who had moved to a map of the continent. He stood in front of the east portion of the map, where the Akkala, Faron, and Necluda regions were painted Zonai green. 

“My fool of a brother didn’t see the threats, but I do,” he whispered, frowning. He spun around to face her once again, “All you need to know, sweet Zelda, is that in a month’s time you will cross the Bridge of Hylia and make your home in the quaint woodlands that were once a part of our great nation.”

Zelda opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.

“Everyone wins!” he proclaimed, “We get the support of the largest nation on the continent, and at long last you can finally do something to help your country. As princess.”

Zelda sighed at her defeat, “I don’t know their language.”

“A month should give you a decent enough head start,” he insisted, sweeping a hand towards the door, “I suggest you get started.”

Zelda rushed out the door, desperate for a moment to process. Her plan was momentarily foiled by the arrival of Nohansen. The young prince was an unfortunate reflection of his father made all the clearer by his sinister smile.

“Ah! Have you heard the news, dear cousin? You must be ecstatic! The biggest day in any young woman’s life is her wedding day, and yours is a mere thirty days away!” 

“I fail to see how we’re to organize a royal wedding in one month,” Zelda muttered. Nohansen’s smile sank into a smirk. He ruffled her hair, knocking her tiara off in the process. 

“Oh, the wedding won’t be held here” he laughed, twirling the gold in his hands, “Of course not, we can’t have those barbarians running around our castle now, can we?”

Zelda took a breath to speak-

“No,” he said, holding up a finger to stifle whatever she was about to say, “We will be taking you to them. Your glorious wedding shall take place deep in the savage Zonai wilds. They even have a little spring said to be protected by a goddess. Does that not please you, O Daughter of Hylia?” he ended with a sneer.

Zelda snatched her crown back, the gold biting against her grip as she pushed passed him to rush through hallways stained burgundy with banners bearing her uncle’s crest to climb her tower, rushing up stairs and crossing the bridge to her study, the most remote room in the entirety of Hyrule Castle. She slammed the door and locked it before kicking off her shoes and climbing her desk to open the window high above it. She lifted her face to the breeze that rushed in. It was here, away from prying eyes, that she could truly relish in fresh air. She stood there a moment to relish the stillness before lowering herself to the floor and taking a seat in front of her carefully cultivated collection of samples of Hyrule’s most elusive flower, the Silent Princess. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t get one to sprout within the confines of her study. 

Her study was cluttered with several clay pots hosting their own samples. Stalks of Saffline and flowering Blue Nightshade gently glowing against the shadows. She also had several vials full of elixirs her uncle refused to consider implementing into the kingdom’s resources, citing a lack of reports backing her claims. Of course, any reports written by Zelda herself were disqualified because of a conflict of interest.

That didn’t mean her work went unnoticed. Zelda had built quite a rapport with servants and soldiers alike when she managed to concoct a working contraceptive elixir with ingredients common enough to distribute. From that point on Zelda became an unofficial medic to the people of Castle Town. Those employed at the castle had full access to the infirmary, but the same could not be said for their families. Since her activity outside the castle was heavily restricted most of her specimens were given to her by grateful family members who consulted her.

She was reviewing her notes on the Silent Princess when a knock at the door brought tension to her shoulders.

“What is it?” she asked, wary of her cousin coming in to gloat once again.

“You’ve been invited to dinner by his Majesty King Daphnes, he requests you come down immediately.”

“I’ll be right there,” she huffed, fixing the golden band on her head and straightened her hair before making her way down to the dining hall. To her aggravation, everyone had already been seated and turned to look at her as she walked in. Another one of her uncle’s tricks.

She sat at the last open seat at the head of the table. Her uncle intended to make a spectacle of her in some way, but she didn’t find out exactly how until dessert was served and the King knocked a spoon against his glass to call for the attention of the other nobles in attendance.

“It is my tremendous pleasure to inform you all as of today that our lovely Crown Princess,” he waved to a servant, who brought over a package “is officially engaged to be married!”

There was a round of polite applause before King Daphnes cleared his throat, continuing after they quieted down. The attendant placed a solid wooden box in front of Zelda after a maid cleared her unfinished cake away.

“In honor of this momentous agreement the groom in question was so kind as to send a gift to his beautiful bride to be and I thought it only right to share this celebration with you all by letting you bear witness to the first gift between our dear Zelda and her fiance!” the King turned to her then, laying another heavy hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t be shy now. Open it.”

At first glance Zelda thought the box itself was the gift. It was finely crafted, polished wood with a reddish tinge that she hadn’t seen before, and the various symbols and runes carved into it had her itching to go to the library. Zelda lifted the lid and reached in, pulling out a knife crafted by some creature’s polished jaw bone.

The room burst out in raucous laughter.

“My word!” a woman’s voice yelled, “I knew they were backwards, but to think they would present a young lady with the remains of some animal!”

“Well of course,” cried another, “If they couldn’t fashion a proper metal blade, what hope could they have of crafting jewelry?”

Zelda fingered the spiral carved into the lid’s center as she considered pointing out that the handle was made from silver wrapped in silk, but she doubted it would make a difference.

“Well she can always wear it about her neck if she wants to show off her engagement!” Prince Nohansen laughed.

Zelda did not wear the knife around her neck, but she did take to wearing it on a sash tied at her waist. The morning after the engagement was announced Zelda descended to the lower floors of the castle to reach the laboratory. Diplomatic relations between Hyrule and Zonai were nonexistent, but there was one researcher that spent a fair amount of time in Faron to study some of the plants there, and Zelda had gotten quite acquainted with him upon his return to the castle.

“Owlan!” she called, a smile growing on her face as the old man came into view, working diligently on documenting the fruits of his research.

“Come to glean Zonai secrets, your Highness?” he asked with a raised brow and his ever present gentle smile.

“You’ve heard the news then?” she asked. 

“There’s not a soul in this castle who hasn’t. It’s the talk of the town,” he closed the book he was writing in and turned to face her, “Would you like a tutor in their language?”

“I would, but that’s not the only reason I’m here,” Zelda set the box she’d received the night before on his workspace, “What do you make of this?”

He took the box in his hand, giving the intricately carved lid, “If nothing else, you know that he’s a gifted carpenter.”

“You think he made the box himself?”

“Rather than a ring, Zonai engagements are marked with a dagger. Typically the suitor in question will present said blade with a personal touch. A seamstress would wrap it in a sash for her beloved, a gardener might send flowers along with the blade itself, and your betrothed,” he tapped the box lid, “sent a carved box. Would you mind terribly if I took a look at the knife in question?”

“Go ahead,” she said, taking an empty seat beside him. She turned back to him holding the knife in question with a frown.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s common for particularly capable warriors in the Zonai nation to slay a beast and have a bone fashioned into the blade. It’s a way of showing off, you see,” Owlan said with a mischievous smile, “but I can’t tell what creature it’s from.”

Zelda took the dagger in her own hands, running a ringer across the large fang at the point. Now that she had a closer look, she could see etchings on the bone as well, depicting a long horned serpent curling under the teeth.

“What should I send back?”

“I’m sure a reciprocal blade would be appreciated,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

Zelda left shortly after to visit the blacksmith to have a dagger commissioned before heading to the library. After consulting a librarian she had several books on the Zonai language sent to her room while she perused the shelves until she came across the tome she was looking for.

The Hylian Bestiary was one of the oldest books in the castle’s collection, the original copy was written back when the kingdom encompassed the entire continent. She hefted the book onto one of the empty tables and flipped through the illustrations of beasts both alive and of their remains. She rested her head on her fist, nearing the end of the section and still at a loss. She turned a page, a little discouraged until she scanned it’s contents.

There wasn’t much information on this beast, apart from reports of different colors and different regions it had been spotted in. There wasn’t a live illustration either, but there was a careful sketch of a skull. Zelda opened her box and took out the dagger just to be sure. She held it up to the page.

Her fiance had sent her a Lynel’s jaw.

If his intent was to impress, he’d certainly succeeded. She had never seen one herself, but there had been occasions where her uncle had dispatched knights to slay one that had wandered a bit too close to hylian villages. It was one of the few times the King would approve of Zelda’s assistance of the medical staff, because they always needed extra hands afterwards. Zelda returned the book to its shelf and entered her study. The books she’d asked for were stacked on her desk, but she bypassed them for her cabinet of finished elixirs. She opened the doors and considered, wondering which one she should send to her betrothed. She considered a poison she’d extracted to coat the dagger in, but decided against it. With the language barrier as high as it was, she didn’t want to risk him drinking it. She ended up making a defensive concoction that would give him an extra layer of protection, which he might need if he made a habit of facing Lynels. 

She was called down to the blacksmith’s a few hours later to approve of their handiwork. The blade was serrated, as she’s requested, and a fair bit longer than the knife around her waist, but she gave her approval and had it shipped off with her elixir to her fiance before returning to her study and reading through the basics of the Zonai language.  

A week after she sent her own engagement dagger she had received another gift from her fiance. Unlike the first, this gift was contained within a basket. Zelda had the good fortune to intercept the servant on the way to deliver her gift to her uncle. The maid in question was a regular consumer of one of her contraceptives, so it didn’t take much convincing before she was walking back to her room with the basket tucked under one arm. She sat on her bed, and somewhat excitedly opened the lid of the basket-

And slammed it back down again. She stared at the basket as though it might combust for a moment, heart slamming against her ribcage. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, Zelda gingerly picked up the basket and placed it on her desk, ond once she put a few paper weights over the lid, paid Owlan a visit.

“Good afternoon your Highness! Are your studies going well?” he asked, looking up from the medication he was crafting.

“How do the Zonai feel about snakes?” she asked by way of greeting.

“Well I would say they’re quite fond of the little creatures,” Owlan explained, “Snakes in general are held in high regard due to their resemblance to one of their guardian deities. The Faron Python in particular is a common pet.”

“A snake is a common pet?”

“Contrary to popular belief, they can be quite friendly. The Faron Python is known for being affectionate and gentle, that coupled with their penchant to hunt pests earned them a spot in many a Zonai household.”

Zelda found herself in the library once again looking for answers regarding the nature of an engagement, and returned to her room with an illustrated guide to Faron Pythons and their care. Once she was once again seated on her bed with the basket placed in front of her. She made sure to turn to the page to a diagram of the snake’s physical characteristics to make sure she could verify her suspicion. Not wanting to spook the creature, she took the lid off slowly, giving the snake a moment to adjust to the light of her room before taking a closer look.

The serpent itself was shockingly beautiful, bright white scales with splashes of blue along its body that looked almost translucent reflecting the light filtering through her windows. After a few tense moments, Zelda carefully reached in the basket. The serpent didn’t shy away, so she felt secure enough to tuck her hand underneath a section of its body to gently lift it. First it was only a few inches, giving the sweet creature a chance to escape, but it only curled around her hand in an embrace that felt softer then it looked. The snake slowly turned to look at her. A tongue flicked out of an upturned mouth, and Zelda was lost.

From that day forward, it was common to see the Crown Princess of Hyrule walking through the castle with a serpent coiled around her neck. She liked the reaction her new friend had on those around her, even her uncle and cousin seemed to give her a wide berth whenever they caught sight of the python leisurely draped around her shoulders. She never mentioned the snake’s name because she liked the watchful respect she acquired and refused to undermine it by advertising that the intimidating serpent’s name was Noodle. 

With this new edge to her authority Zelda made doubly sure that any gifts from her mysterious groom came directly to her hands. The benefits to this policy were two fold, the first being insurance that her uncle wouldn’t make a further mockery of her engagement or perhaps keep the gift if he took a liking to it. The second was the prevention of any diplomatic incidents. As much as she loved Noodle, Zelda was well aware that a snake in a basket could be interpreted as an assassination attempt. 

As thanks for her new friend, Zelda sent one of her old journals she thought had a thorough description of how she made some of her earlier, more basic elixirs. She knew there was a chance he might not understand Hylian, but she thought it would be a good way to get to know her. She had tried translating the recipes, but gave up after the first few and sent the incomplete list rather than spend her remaining month translating a single journal. Her Zonai vocabulary was primarily conversational and sadly didn’t include scientific vernacular.

She must have gotten her point across, however, as just a week later she was delighted to find a few vials full of her fiance’s attempts to recreate her recipes. 

Zelda was also surprised, quite a feat after Noodle’s auspicious arrival, to find a Silent Princess pressed into glass. At first she was perplexed, wondering if her fiance had simply ventured a lucky guess, but then she recalled the day she began researching the flower and attempting to foster it on her own was also the day she filled that journal, suggesting her fiance had read to the last page of her journal before preparing his third gift.

Her elation at this discovery was fueled by a torrent of relief. She had heard the stories of arranged marriages gone wrong. She had considered countless times in the past weeks that the gifts sent could be a ploy to gain her affections only to have such generosity evaporate as soon as the final wedding vow was spoken. Yet the Silent Princess in her hands whispered tales of a considerate husband, who took the time to read through all she had written and took the time to learn her interests. Deep in Zelda’s chest, she felt hope flicker, foolish as it might have been.

[rowanwhitethornisbae]

Faking It Chapter 4

A/N: This Chapter takes place in like an hour which was not my intention when I started but here it is anyway. I really like this one and I think it leads perfectly into the rest of the story. Enjoy! CW: Swearing

Faking It Masterlist

“Get up right now!” Aelin yelled at her cousin, her body hovering above his sleeping form. “Aedion I have a math test first period that I'm going to miss.” 

She grabbed the pillow out from under his head and smacked him with it. Her moron of a cousin just groaned and rolled over, muttering something indecipherable under her breath. 

“Pleaseee Aedion.” Aelin whined, fully aware of how desperate she sounded. Aelin wasn't exactly a natural at math, and really needed to do well on this test if she was even going to pass. 

“Fuck off.” He grumbled, and turned back over in bed. He had spare first period, and didn't need to be at school for another hour and a half. Still, he’d promised her over dinner last night that he’d take her in. Aelin had woken up about ten minutes ago and got ready quickly, fully prepared to be driven by her cousin. 

She called Lysandra’s phone, only for it to go straight to voicemail. Without wasting anymore time, Aelin chugged the remaining half cup of coffee, needing the energy boost, and left the house. She knew Aedion would feel guilty later, but it was too late now for his future apologies to matter. 

Aelin had gotten all of half a block, when she realized that she was still wearing Doc Martens. There was no fucking way she was going to be able to walk the five miles to school in these platforms without dropping dead. Just then, as Aelin fully prepared herself to collapse on the ground and fake an illness, a car pulled up. Aelin recognized the beat black vehicle, and the small dent in the front from days prior. 

Rowan Whitethorn rolled down his window slowly, as if he was still deciding whether or not to drive away. “Want a drive?” 

She looked him up and down, than glanced down the road at the miles stretching out before her. Was getting mocked and condescended to really worth a math grade? Aelin continued to walk down the street in answer. 

Rowan groaned and rolled the car forward, keeping pace with her easily. “Just get in the car.” 

Aelin had heard those words from him before, in an ironically similar situation. Against her own wishes, a memory surfaced. She tried in vain to push it out, but it was no use. 

18 Months prior, Aelin Galathynius had been walking down this same street, a bottle of vodka in hand and her cheeks stained with tears. It had been a month since the car crash that claimed both her parents lives. In all honestly, Aelin was less of a wreck than she would've expected. She knew who she owed that fact too, but Rowan Whitethorn was currently across town at a football game with his friends. He didn't care. No one cared. 

So here she was, drunk and sobbing as she walked unsteadily down this empty suburban road. Every once in a while she’d trip and her momentum would spin her around, sending her back in the same direction she’d come. 

Aelin didn't know how long she'd been walking back and forth for, but it must have been a while. The sunset that had torn the sky into strips of different colours was gone, replaced by the blackness of night and a tiny sliver of a crescent moon. 

The alcohol must've numbed her body because when she looked down, Aelin was shocked to find that her feet were bleeding. She wasn't wearing shoes, and pieces of rock and dirt had scratched away at her skin. Aelin found it so funny that she’s forgotten shoes, that she leaned over and started laughing. Deep, wrenching sounds that had her leaning over her knees for support. When she was done laughing at nothing, Aelin continued her stroll down the road, still ignoring the raw and bloody skin of her feet. If she could handle losing both her parents, she could handle some blisters. 

Thats how Rowan found her. Silent tears rolling down her face, an empty bottle of vodka in her hand, bloody feet, and a terrifyingly empty smirk etched onto her pale face. 

She didn't notice him pull up this time, too consumed by her own grief. She did however, hear his voice. Like an anchor in the sea, she felt the tug deep in her soul. 

“Aelin.” He had said, pain lingering behind his every word. She had found it funny at the time that he was in pain. Both his parents were alive. What he could possible have to be upset about. She only realized it days later, after the breakup that had destroyed what was left of her. 

He had been in pain because he loved her. 

She hadn't answered the man in the car. Just kept on walking blindly down the street, bloody footprints on the stone behind her. 

“Let me help you Aelin.” He paused. “Just get in the car.” 

When she hadn't, he’d pulled up right there in the middle of the road and gotten out. He’d pried the alcohol out of her hands and held her against his chest until she had no tears left to cry. Then, so gently that it snapped something in her chest, he’d picked her up and taken her to his car. She was nearly passed out when they arrived at the hospital. The doctors had patched up her feet, removed a small piece of glass that had gotten in her heel. Rowan had stayed overnight with her, and when she awoke in that hospital bed, hungover and in pain, the sight of him sleeping in a tiny chair beside her bed had begun to heal her. 

“Come on Aelin. You’re going to be late for math class.” He insisted, and she snapped out of the unwelcome memory. His voice conveyed that this was her last chance to accept his offer. 

Finally, she stopped. Although a late slip was better than being ridiculed, another failed math mark was not. She sighed and walked around to the other side of his car. Something like surprise flashed on Rowan’s face, but it was gone in an instant. 

“Thanks.” She said as swung the passenger door shut. 

Rowan simply nodded and pushed down on the gas. They sat in silence for a brief moment and Aelin crossed one leg over the other. 

“So,” Rowan began, clearly trying to break the tension. She supposed it was a good idea if they were going to do this whole fake dating thing. “Are you ready for the test.” 

Math was their only class together, luckily, and the only thing they really had in common. It wasn't a shock to her that Rowan would use that for small talk. 

“Um I studied a lot but I don't really understand any of it.” Aelin shrugged, suddenly wishing she was better at math. “I guess I'll just try my best again.” 

“What’d you get last time you tried your best?” He asked.

Aelin winced. “58 percent” 

Rowan gave her a look without turning his head from the road. “What’s your current average.” 

“I’d rather not.” She started fiddling with her hands. She really, really, did not want to give Rowan another reason to make fun of her. 

“Come on.” He pried further. 

Aelin was fully prepared to lie, so it surprised even her when the truth escaped her lips. “47,″ she paused, “point five.”

Rowan shot her an incredulous look, finally turning his head fully. “How is that even possible, your marks were high eighties in sophomore year.” 

“You tutored me.” She admitted without really thinking. “It made sense when you explained it.” 

She knew it was the wrong thing to say when he stiffened, his fingers tightening on the wheel. A few seconds later, they pulled into the parking lot. 

“We’re here.” He told her, opening the door. 

Aelin waited until Rowan was halfway to the school to say, “I can see that.” 

Groaning, she started making her way to class. Luckily, Aelin didn't see anyone she knew. She used the few extra minutes that Rowan’s drive had saved her to run over formulas in her head. She knew that she’d completely forget how to apply them as soon as she picked up the test, but it didn't hurt to know. 

The classroom was full when she got there, and Aelin took her normal seat at the back. In all the commotion with Rowan, Aelin had completely forgotten that she also had this class with Chaol. Her first with him since the breakup. 

She tried not to look in his direction, a feat that was made impossible when he stood up and walked over to her desk. 

“Hey Aelin.” He said, his hands braced on her desk. She didn't like how short this arrangement made her feel. 

“Chaol.” She said, nodding her head. 

“How are you doing?” He asked. 

Aelin groaned internally and dared a glance over at Rowan. He sat two seats to her left, and was watching her and Chaol with a blank face. Swallowing, Aelin smiled up at her ex-boyfriend. “Fine.” She purposely didn't reciprocate the question. 

“Cool cool.” Chaol chewed on his cheek in a way that had never bothered her before, but she now found infuriating. “I was just wondering if you’re planning on going to Dorian’s party this Friday.” 

Ahhh. So that’s what this torturously awkward conversation was about. She gave him a shallow nod. “I think so. Why?” She added the last word as an afterthought. 

“No reason.” Then he took a long sigh. “I just think it might be awkward if I end up hooking up with someone and you’re there.” 

Aelin’s mouth fell open. That could not have been something he actually just said. She nearly laughed at the absurdity of his comment. “Don’t worry about me.” She said sarcastically. “Hook up with all the girls you want, I know I will.” 

He went slightly pale, but still spoke in a teasing voice. “You’re going to hook up with girls?” 

Aelin couldn't help but laugh and Chaol smiled with relief at her response. Out of the corner of her vision, she noticed Rowan’s eyes darken. Chaol was just about to turn away, when she stopped him. 

“Chaol,” He stiffened slightly, as if expecting her to yell at him. “I have a question about the politics of the football team.” 

He looked confused, but relieved all the same. Chaol leaned on her desk again, bringing their faces uncomfortably close. 

“Would an assistant captain be able to pick someone to try out for the team.” Her voice was quiet enough that she knew Rowan couldn't hear.

“Yeah,” Chaol answered, “If an assistant captain finds someone that they think would be a good fit then they are allowed to set up a tryout without needing permission from the captain.” 

“Thanks.” She said, pulling her pencil case out of her bag in a sign of dismissal. 

Chaol gave her a curt nod, and deciding not to ask further about her questions, went back to his chair. 

Minutes later, the teacher handed out the tests, set the timer and told them to begin. 

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

Rowan could tell Aelin was struggling. It was obvious from the frustrated look in her eyes and the slumped posture of her shoulders. She was chewing on her lip and looked quite honestly on the verge of tears. Rowan knew she wouldn't cry in class, she’d always preferred to wait and suffer alone. But the odds were that Lysandra would find her in the bathroom during lunch, locked inside a stall. 

The thought of her in pain had never really bothered him before. He’d been too consumed in his hatred of Aelin Galathynius to really mind. But now, after she’d thawed through a little bit of the ice he regarded her with, the thought was nearly unbearable. 

Rowan Whitethorn had never cheated on a test in his entire life. There was really no need to when he possessed a natural knack for academics. Shit just made sense to him, it had always been like that. So now, as he ever so slowly reached for his phone from his jacket pocket, his heart was positively racing. 

The teacher was at the front of the class with his head down, grading papers. Still, Rowan felt like the man had to be able to hear the sound of Rowan’s heart beating against his chest. Once he had a solid grip around his phone, he slipped it silently out of his pocket. 

His hands were sweaty, and Rowan silently begged the gods not to let him drop it. He carefully grabbed his test and propped it up as a shield, making it look like he was just reviewing it. Sitting in the back row meant there was no one behind to him to snitch, and he trusted the four people that sat to his right enough. With his phone on silent, Rowan quickly took three pictures of the test pages and sent them to Aelin. 

He lingered for a moment on the chat, their last texts being from 18 months ago.  

Aelin: Im really fucking sorry Rowan. Can we still be friends?

He’d left her on read and five minutes later, she’d text again. 

Aelin: I need you in my life still. 

There were typos in his next message, his eyes too blurry with tears to see straight. 

Rowan: You should've thouht of that first. Don't call me. Don't text me. I fucking hate you Aelin. I nver ever want to speak to you again.

She’d never responded, but true to his word, they hadn't spoken since then. Until three days ago. 

Pushing that from his mind, Rowan hit send on the pictures. Already done with his test, he used this time to watch Aelin. 

Her hair was down, and she kept tucking it behind her ears every few moments. Browa furrowed, she bit on her lower lip in a way that had his hand tightening around his pencil. With his eyes on her, Rowan saw the exact moment that her phone vibrated in her pocket. She looked left and right, and he turned away before she could make eye contact with him, and then turned back to her test. 

She did almost the exact same thing he had, using her test as a shield and pulling out her phone. She clicked a few things and then her mouth fell open. There were too many emotions on he face for him to pick out. Relief, shock, joy, surprise. 

Her head jerked in his direction and this time he was too late to turn away. Their eyes met and the way she looked at him had the rest of the class fading away. His heart rate sped up yet again, and there was nothing between them but wasteful space. He couldn't look away from her if he tried. 

Luckily, she looked away first, making him feel quite foolish. She began to copy his answers down, clearly making sure to get a few wrong as to not get caught. Although it seemed an eternity, it took Aelin all of two minutes to change 90% of her answers and pocket the phone once again. 

Rowan released a long breath and felt himself relax again. They’d actually done it. He felt a strange sense of pride, uncomfortably similar to the way he’d felt when him and Aelin were dating. When they broke into an abandoned beach house to jump off the balcony and into the ocean. 

The bell dismissed them and Rowan jumped up from his desk, eager to get out of class before Aelin tried to talk to him. Still, he should've known that evading Aelin Galathynius was utterly useless. 

He had barely gotten to his locker when she caught up to him. He was pulling books out and didn't look her way.

She leaned on the locker beside his - Lorcan’s - and stared at him. “Why’d you do that?” 

He just kept picking out books. “I don't know what you’re talking about.” 

She snorted and Rowan felt a blush rise on his cheeks. “Don't play dumb with me. Why’d you help me cheat.” 

Rowan was quickly running out of books in his locker. “No thank you?” 

She gave him a soft smile. “Thank you.” 

He just nodded and finally turned to face her, slamming his locker shut with more force than was necessary. 

He was fully prepared to leave when she spoke again. “Shall we go to lunch?” 

For the second time in who knows how long, Aelin Galathynius snapped the last bit of his sanity. He flipped them around, so her back was pressed up against the lockers and he was hovering above her. He braced both arms on each side of her head and brought his face close to hers. He could feel her rapid breathing on his cheek and see the way that gold ring in her eyes swelled with fear. He watched as her nostrils flared as she took in his heaving chest. He considered himself lucky that she didn't turn her head to peek at his shaking hands. 

“Aelin.” He said, his voice laced with venom. It was then that he realized this was the first time he’d spoken her name in nearly a year and a half. For a second, he lost the ability to speak. But then she made the smallest movement as if to escape his hold, and he regained it. 

“I don't want to walk to lunch with you. I don't want to trade answers with you. I don't want to speak to you. I don't even want to look at you. I am doing this for me and only me. We talk when it is completely necessary. Other than that please, just leave me the fuck alone. You are nothing to me and I do not care.” 

She didn't even flinch as he spoke. Almost like she knew exactly what he was going to say. There was no sign of hurt in her eyes, just ice cold emptiness. 

“Why?” She asked. The word was so quiet that he nearly missed it. 

“You cheated on me Aelin.” 

There it was. The truth that neither of them had been willing to discuss. He had loved her so much that he was completely consumed by it. But she’d slept with Chaol anyway. He never understood why and she never bothered to explain. 

She opened her mouth to say something when someone cleared their voice beside them. 

“What's going on?” Lorcan asked, Fenrys beside him with his eyes wide. 

Rowan stepped back from Aelin as if he’d been burned. She didn't move though. She stayed there against the lockers looking up at him with a crestfallen expression on her face. 

“Nothing.” Rowan said harshly, looking right at Aelin. “Nothing’s going on at all.” 

She nodded her head, murmured an apology, and disappeared down the hall. 

He watched her go for a moment and then slammed his head against the locker, trying to drown out the mindless sounds of a high school hallway and fight the growing urge to cry. 

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

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[kidney9-9]

Petty Chapter 6

Awesome it’s updated again :) As you can tell through this chapter, Peter is getting closer to Reader. Please read the warnings before you read. Tags in reblog and to join a taglist, click the link in my bio.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader  Warnings: Swearing, Blackmail and other illegal activites  Word Count: 2.2k

Just as soon as you walked to the stadium, you doubted yourself. What was the point? You couldn’t understand yourself, but maybe you were being the bigger person here by offering peace first, even though you were the one that acted against him first. Fuck. You were just confused with him.

Why did he have to be Spiderman and write that dumb essay? You started to rant in your mind, snickering quietly when you started to make fun of his name again. Sure, there were a lot of bad things of Peter that you can think of now, but maybe… just maybe you can see him as an average person. Like a person you’d see on the street, and never think of again.

That would be easier if you saw him that way, but you didn’t. Unfortunately, you didn’t like him, and just his presence near you made you agitated, even though you knew you shouldn’t. You couldn’t help it.

As you continued to walk closer to the bleachers, noticing a few people there, you twiddled with your fingers nervously. As you rounded to the other side of them, you cleared your throat, standing straight again as you saw Peter sitting there with some papers scrawled out with Ned by his side, and others sitting across from them.

Everyone looked up to you after you cleared your throat again, and Peter crossed his arms, sighing when he saw you. Ned almost grinned at the way Peter was acting, wanting to compare it to a third grader but decided it wasn’t time.

“Hey… um, Peter can I speak to you?” You mumbled to him, leaning a bit as you felt the cold metal hit your head just slightly. Peter instantly glanced over to Ned and his other classmates, who were studying for science and a few other subjects. Ned gazed back at him with raised eyebrows, expecting Peter to go talk to you. After listening to Peter yap about everything, Ned was sure Peter just needed to talk to you about things.

“Why?” Peter shot back defensively, shifting in his spot. One of his classmates looked at him strangely and Peter realized he was acting rude. Peter muttered something under his breath before getting out of his spot, walking towards you.

You walked a bit away with Peter, towards the trees as you thought about how you were going to say stuff. He swiped his hand through his hair as you leaned against one of the trees, gazing back at you with hesitance. You could tell he didn’t want to be here, but you were sort of glad he was taking a chance to let you talk to him.

“I’m… Look I saw what you posted, and I know it’s sort of my fault and well, anyway- Do you want help?” You stumbled out, feeling nerves pop out in you. This was something you didn’t do often. You didn’t really offer to help people you didn’t like at all, so it felt strange. You didn’t have that many valid reasons of doing this except to feel less guilty, but still it was so odd.

Peter blanched. He had no idea why you would ask him that, since you caused him to fail. He took a step back in surprise, and shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing at you with furrowed eyebrows. What was your reasoning? He didn’t know at all, so he started to guess.

Would it benefit you in some way? He couldn’t see any way you would benefit from helping him at all. He didn’t want your help at all, but now the idea was growing on him, as he started to wonder what the fuck you were doing.

It couldn’t be to help your cousin behind this either. You were your own person, and Peter could tell that the two of you didn’t have the best relationship if you went failing random people with her class. Was this just to hurt her? He bit his lip, shaking his head to himself which caused you to clear your throat to see what was happening.

If there was nothing… he had to find out. You couldn’t just be helping him for nothing. He needed to see why you were offering any help.

“Fine, how can you help me?” It came out smooth and your eyebrows shot up in surprise, thinking that he wouldn’t have accepted. You cringed internally, wondering if he was that bad in English. He was an “intern” at the Stark company, so it just seemed so odd to see that English was his weakness.

After a brief moment of thinking, you shrugged, “I can tutor you. I’m an okay tutor.” Your dull answer made him chuckle while shaking his head. He didn’t want that at all, it wouldn’t work any type of way because he was always busy with his duties as well as the other homework he gets from the rest of his classes.

“Can’t do that, don’t want to be hang out with you.” He scoffed and instantly regretted. It wasn’t the kindest thing to say but when he saw you roll your eyebrows back to him; he knew you were sort of okay with it. He didn’t need to give you any kindness, did he? He still felt bad and it wasn’t exactly the full truth.

“Alright…” You paused, scratching your head. He seemed to be worked up and you started to think if it was because of you talking to him. You didn’t know what else you could tell him, but now you felt obligated to help him since you offered. There was something that always hung in the back of your mind whenever you got worried about your finals. Something that was always the silent option, throughout the years of high school. You knew if you were caught even thinking about it you could get in trouble too.

It was very much illegal and ruin your chances of getting into university. You cringed internally, wondering if saying it aloud to a superhero – one that fights against crime, would be alright. Shouldn’t it be though? You thought about it more, seeing that Peter was technically still breaking many laws as being Spiderman. Like he blew shit up almost every weekend and you were sure he made sneaky weird technology, especially if he made his suit. You didn’t really know much about his background on Spiderman, but the more you thought about it, you realized that it shouldn’t matter if you told him your idea.

And it wasn’t like you would get in trouble because of him, since he is a hero.

Besides, you’ve joked around a lot about it with your friends. Saying that you could just sneak into school and steal the answers to every exam and final you were taking. And sneaking into schools were too easy nowadays. Just got to jump a small fence and find an unlocked door or window, or just steal a key beforehand.

You were a good student, and so was Peter.

Every student knows that you must leap for opportunities, if they want something, right? You assured yourself as you second thought everything.

Peter was the type that would launch for goals, and technically so were you if it meant it would make you feel less guilty about ruining his chances of going to college.

“I’ve got a plan.” You spoke up, making Peter frown in return. He could see your slight grin, and he worried about what you were going to say.

“And what’s that? Fail more students?” He responded, groaning as you rolled your eyes. Why did he always have to act like that? He knew it was more than just the reason you failed him, but he couldn’t put a finger on it.

“Sure, Sherlock. And then we’ll magically get into college and it’s all rainbows and daisies.” The sarcasm poured out of your mouth as you started to think if you should even share your plan with Peter. If you didn’t, you could always go in by yourself, and get the history exam answers. That would be easy, and less risky.

Before Peter could retort to your comment, you continued, ��Listen, we’ll go to Mandy’s class after or before school someday, and sign into her account to see what her plans are for the final. Then we’ll leave, and you can use it to pass.”

Peter was flabbergasted. “No fucking way, are you serious? You want to pull and Ocean’s Eleven on your cousin?”

A short laugh came out of your mouth, looking at his face. It was red in shock, his jaw dropped, and you can tell he was just too stunned. “Parker, you in or out? And,” You paused, biting your lip.

“And if you’re out, I expect you not to tell anyone about what I just said. You know, because I’ll just tell everyone you’re Spiderman, and blah blah blah- people will know your big secret.” The threat should have been implied, but you decided to say it aloud to him, to make sure.

Peter crossed his arms at it, “Wow, blackmail must run in the family then.” He glanced back to Ned, seeing how he was focused on the group instead. Peter just wanted a normal senior year as Spiderman, the high schooler, but no.

Now he had to deal with crime, his grades, and you. He couldn’t tell what was more frustrating now, you or crime, but as you cocked your eyebrow back to him, expecting a definite answer, he came up with his opinion.

He had to do it. He was doing it for his own good, and to impress both Aunt May and Stark. He needed to do it; you were the one who opened this door for him. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t let them down right now. It would destroy him. After all he’s done as Spiderman and as a regular high school student, and then an English exam would be his downfall? He couldn’t let that happen. He needed to push through, even if it was bad.

“Okay… I’ll do it.” He murmured, stepping closer to you as if it was a huge secret. It was. He couldn’t let anyone know about him sneaking into a school with you. He still didn’t tell Aunt May about what you did either, but he knew he would soon. He felt horrible for holding so much back from her, that he knew he had to at least tell her that story.

Your gaze turned softer when you saw he dropped his anger in his words, and you felt relieved that things were starting to be better now. It felt strange as you started to realize he was the first person you confessed to about your plan honestly, and not just a joke. You couldn’t trust anyone else about it, knowing how bad this was.

“Let’s talk about it somewhere else?” You questioned, offering somewhere more private as you glanced around, noticing that more people started showing up, walking around the two of you. Peter nodded in agreeance, before gazing back to the group he was with.

“Hey guys! I’ll catch up later.” He called out, waving back to them. You grinned sheepishly back to Ned as his gaze turned to you with curiosity. Your grin dropped as you spun around, feeling Peter’s hand on your arm. You glanced down to it with knitted eyebrows as he tugged you gently towards another direction.

“I’m not a pet, I don’t need a leash.” You mumbled, ripping your arm away from him. Peter almost let out a chuckle before he saw the glare on your face, before he bit down on his lips, deciding to keep quiet.

“And where are we going? The bathrooms or something?” You rambled on, glimpsing to him as he cleared his throat. He shook his head, thinking about going to one of the benches. This all felt insane to him, but he was glad things were starting to look upwards now. You were one of the most surprising parts of his year, and he just hoped that next year, things could clear up, and be easier That he would be in college, balancing life between a student and a superhero.

“Right here.” He replied, after a few moments and sat down. He slung his bag down on the floor as you sighed to yourself.

“Well, I was thinking maybe just taking Mandy’s key. That’s the easiest way to get in, but since you’re Spiderboy- Man, what do you think?” You wanted to get straight into it, and Peter was thankful you didn’t say anything else rude, other than Spiderboy, which he could deal with.

Wanda and Clint say that stuff to him all the time, it was a teasing thing the group always did with each other. “Uh, that might be easy, sure. Would she notice it was gone? I know a way in.” He responded, shrugging back to you.

You rolled your eyes again, shaking your head. You knew exactly which way he was speaking about. “Not that entrance. You make too much noise.” You mumbled back and he bit back his urge to reply to you.

He repeated what you said in his head, in a whinny voice, mimicking you. “Okay, fine.” He responded, clenching the side of the bench.

“Alright, my plan it is then. Tonight at 10 good?” The question threw him off, not expecting it to be so soon, but it made sense. He nodded back to you, without speaking as he thought about how he’d take a break from his rounds for a few hours to go back to the school.

[chanswavyhair]

filter | hwang hyunjin

warning: some cursing, fem!reader, too much fluff akshka.

a/n: this is my first time writing a fic and not a timestamp so,,, i hope it’s not very bad. this was kinda inspired by bts jimin’s filter but jagsjh,, anyways hope you enjoy it!!

you were in trouble

like,,, you were usually in trouble but THIS ONE WAS BIG

so you basically agreed with your parents that you would attend some ball ???

and with your boyfriend as your plus one ?????

well to start off you didn’t have a boyfriend and you didn’t even know why did you just say that HSJAKAH

you could do many things, but backing off and hurting your pride WAS NOT ON YOUR LIST

so now you had to find a boyfriend in like a month and half

i mean... you could ask jisung or felix, but you knew how uncomfortable they felt with your richies

also they didn’t give off the rich, classy and charming boyfriend look

well,, your friends were really handsome but not the type of handsome high society liked

but anyways that’s a problem for the future Y/N because we ain’t getting distracted at chemistry !! your grades were NOT falling

yeah you were living the rich and perfect y/n life

anyways in fact you were pretty annoying HSJSJD

you got very !! stressed !! when things were out of your control

there were only a few <lovely3 people who truly knew you and stood you, and they were jilix and your sis ryujin

(who invited her bestie daehwi, but he was rich too so he had no prob)

like,,, you usually hung out with your sis’ friends, but you weren’t THAT close

and for jisung and felix’s friends,,,,, it was weird when they weren’t all together

and that’s how jisung had the dumbest idea ever, and he’s had A LOT

like that one time he convinced you to let him dye your hair (you ended up looking like a light bulb)

or when you shaved his legs (WORST EXPERIENCE EVER YOU ALMOST GO DEAF but it was kinda fun)

anyways he just let out “why don’t you tell hyunjin? you know he does this weird thing of getting paid for acting as a boyfriend”

“what the FUCK JISUNG i am NOT paying hyunjin to act as my BOYFRIEND”

and,,, guess who heard you freaking out

nope not hyunjin but your sis ryujin

and her friend yeji

who hapepened to be hyunjin’s cousin

so yeah she told him and he went  ($ ‿ $✧)

now he’s been “AnAlyZInG” you for some days

and you were too busy thinking about your problem to notice it

so he decided to make a move, as you didn’t

“hey Y/N... somebody told me about your problem”

huh?

HUH??

“uh, what do you mean?”

“i know you need someone to be your supposed boyfriend in some ball”

lol it actually sounded really lame

THAT’S WHY YOU ONLY TRUSTED T H R E E PEOPLE

“wait— what do you mean???”

“well, i could help you and act as your boyfriend. i’m feeling generous, so i will lower the usual tax. which version do you want? cute? prince char—”

the fuck no, you weren’t that PATHETIC

“i’m sorry, but i don’t want your help. thank you anyways”

,,,,,,in that moment it turned to something personal to hyunjin

who wouldn’t want to be his girlfriend???? at least if it’s just for a night????

and that’s how he started to be such a gentleman to you, to smile at you everytime you locked eyes, to initiate skinship

you knew he had ulterior moves, so you were irritated by him

but he was actually way more charming that you thought,,,,,,

like

HE WAITED FOR YOU AT YOUR LOCKER EVERY MORNING JUST TO GREET YOU

“’morning Y/N, looking fine today. how are you feeling? good?”

you were literally on a big ass sweater, but the bags in your eyes were even bigger

“hyunjin it’s too early and i’ve barely slept so please leave me alone—”

“oh, that’s no good,, should i call you tonight to make sure you fall asleep?. anyways, i’ll see you in english class. don’t forget we had homework!”

and,,, he always shared his food whenever you forgot yours,,,,,

he proved himself to be more than a cute face

he tried to help you whenever he noticed you were struggling to understand anything

and one out of five words he said were just him flirting

you eventually started not minding him being around you everyday

and then soome time after that,,, your heart ??? suddenly started to do weird things ??? when he was close to you ???

you MAYHAPS had a little crush on him

BUT IT WAS NOTHING SERIOUS HE WAS JUST TOO CUTE WHENEVER HIS DIMPLES SHOWED

or when HIS EYES WENT,,, (◠‿◠✿)

but you did NOT like him, right?

RIGHT???

he just treated you so well ಥ⌣ಥ

well lucky for you because this boy was also confused as fuck

since when have you been covering you beautiful smile when you laughed???

he honestly just wanted to put your hands down and tickle attack you

but that was just because he was getting into his role right??

RIGHT?????

anyways things got even worse for your weak heart when you saw him at you favorite cafe, studying, looking just TOO GOOD TO BE REAL

and then,,,, you two started to go studying there every evening

at some point he even started ordering your usual comand before you came

and,,, when you found yourself getting distracted by hyunjin’s cute mole under his eye by the 4th time you started to think that...

you maybe...... liked him ????

like... YOU liked HIM ??????

WHAT THE FUCK Y/N

“i have finished all my assignments. how about you?”

“i- i still have lots to do. you should go first or it will get late— ”

“and that’s why i’m staying. you shouldn’t go home alone it’s dark, i’ll walk you, if you don’t mind. and don’t worry, i don’t have anything to do now”

.......

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

you liked him A LOT

but you knew he was just being this nice so he could prove that you should hire him

which was not happening, as if wasn’t enough to fall for this boy :(

the thing is

he had forgotten about that weeks ago when his feelings grew bigger

he didn’t understand what he felt, but he knew he felt insanely good when you were around him

like whenever he told you he felt he was going to fail an exam you looked at him in some kind of way

he didn’t understand how or why, but he felt like whatever was worrying him didn’t matter anymore

and everything he wanted to talk, see, or think of was you

anyways he started to walk you home whenever he got the chance

this one day,,, you weren’t going to the cafe because you had things to do at home

but he insisted to walk you

so he was waiting for you in the hall

then he saw you at your locker talking with some random boy who was quite close to you

his heart went :(

but then he realized you were not exactly happy ??

“look, yeonsung, i already told you that i won’t tutor you. please leave me alone”

“no, Y/N you don’t understand, you HAVE to. we are meant to be, and if you won’t accept my dates at least help me with school stuff. it’s not that hard.” he grabbed your arm.

“yeonsung, no. let me go” you tried to pull, but he wouldn’t release you.

enough bullshit

“hey, i think you’ve heard her. she doesn’t want anything to do with you, so you’d better stop bothering Y/N. i’m not as polite as her”

“who the fuck are you? oh, little Y/N you’ve got some dickhead as your boyfriend? i’m much better than that. if only you fucking let me-”

ok so hyunjin’s blood has been burning for some time now but when he PUT HIS HANDS ON YOUR WAIST-

wait

did he

(・о・)(・о・)(・о・)(・о・)

DID HYUNJIN JUST CRASHED HIM INTO THE LOCKERS

“listen here, you asshole. if you dare to touch a single strand of her again i’ll fucking show you myself how to keep your hands down. understood?”

“un- understood”

“you’d better have” he pressed him a bit more before he let him fall on his feet

“let’s go away” hyunjin grabbed your hand

Y/N.exe has stopped working

hyunjin..... threatened this guy..... because he was harassing you

which was kinda hot btw ????

Y/N FOCUS

“hyunjin you didn’t have to-”

“don’t tell i didn’t have to because i made my best effort not to break his fucking nose.”

(๑ ● o ● ๑)

wow

he was really mad

“hyunjin-”

“Y/N, i know you are probably angry at me and that you want me to mind my own business, but i swear i-”

“HYUNJIN”

Y/N since WHEN did you have the GUTS to cup his face ?????

he went silent

“hey, calm down, ok? i’m not mad at you, this guy has been asking me weird things for some time now so i guess you just helped me to end it. i’m fine, yeah? calm down.”

you realized you were still holding his face so you were about to take them off but

HHHHhhhHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhHHHHHhhhh

HWANG HYUNJIN

WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU DUMMY

he put his hand ON your hands

why was he POUTING

“why didn’t you tell me? or anyone? he could have done anything worse if i hadn’t been there and Y/N, i honestly don- i don’t know what would i do if someone hurt you”

WHY WERE HIS EYES LOOKING AT YOU THAT WAY

(◕︵◕) INTENSIFIES

YOUR HEART WENT HHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhHHHhhhhhhhH

 AND YOUR FACE WAS GOING TO COMBUST AT ANY MOMENT

“it- it’s okay. let’s just forget it. come on, i have to go home”

“wait let me- please, let me hold you for a minute”

he DEADASS HUGGED YOU

AND

BURIED

HIS

FACE

IN

YOUR

HAIR ???????

HWANG HYUNJIN YOU ARE FUCKING RUINING THIS POOR GIRL’S HEART

“you smell really good. i wish i could stay like this for a bit longer... but it’s okay. anyways, let’s go”

you can imagine how HARD ryujin laughed at you when you told her you thought you had forgotten how to breathe

“Y/N YOU MORON, YOU DIDN’T JUST STAYED THERE STILL, PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN’T”

“i HATE U STOP LAUGHING AT ME—”

“OR ELSE WHAT YOU’LL TELL HYUNJIN TO BREAK MY NOSE?”

yeah she was crying out of laughter

but anyways you two stopped shouting when your mother entered the room

“kids, have you already invited someone to the ball? it’s just week and half apart”

O SHIT

THE BALL

so now you were disturbing felix and jisung again with it

“Y/N just ASK HYUNJIN”

“ i CAN’T BECAUSE I ALREADY TOLD HIM THAT I WOULDN’T PAY HIM”

“Y/N,,,,,,,, has it ever crossed your mind that you two act just like a couple?”

(?・・)

“felix what do you mean he doesn’t like me and-”

“hi guys! hi Y/N.” he smiled at you with his whole heart and patted your hair “can you go today to the cafe? i don’t have much to study today, but we can go if you want to. i mean,, if you don’t want to it’s fine, i’ll just walk you home from here, if that’s cool with you.”

felix gave you that look

like the one he gave you when he was right

which was a bit usual because socializing wasn’t your best trait

but hyunjin didn’t like you, did he????

he was... he was just acting

as much as it hurt you, that was the truth

and in order to protect yourself... you should stop it

u MASOCHIST <(｀^´)>

“i think i’ll just go alone. don’t wait for me, it’s fine.”

you lost your appetite with just saying that

and hyunjin was like ????

you could see your two other boys-

Y/N! hyunjin is not your boy so stop it

anyways, jisung and felix were really confused too

well it was actually jisung because felix was more like DONE with your bullshit

you just went back to your classes and then, you went home

has routine been always this boring?

you couldn’t help but smile when you saw that hyunjin sent you a message asking about what where you doing tomorrow

but then you remembered you couldn’t let this hurt you anymore

so you said you were really busy at home and turned your phone off

“Y/N are you, okay?” ryujin said

“yeah, i am. why wouldn’t i be?”

“you don’t have to lie to me, sis. majorly because you can’t. talk to me, Y/N, tell me what’s wrong” she laughed softly

“i am... i am cutting off any relation with hyunjin.”

“what? why? you guys seemed to be getting along really well. i thought you liked him...”

“that’s why, ryu. i like him way too much. before he started talking to me, he told me to hire him to act as my boyfriend in the ball. he’s been trying to prove it, and i don’t want to fall deeper. i don’t know why did i let myself trust him, when i knew this from the first moment. i just don’t know why.

:(((( you started crying, and ryujin hugged you

“i don’t... i don’t think hyunjin is such a bad person to go this far with that thing of wanting you to hire him... but if you think that’s the best, then i’ll support your decision. we can sit in another table tomorrow. you know, just the girls, you and me. okay?”

you nodded into her embrace, trying to stop sobbing.

“okay”

so you started to avoid him as much as you could

and it was eventually making him crazy

well,,, he had been coping with whOle week without you

until he just exploded

“guys, i don’t understand. everything was going really good, and then she started to treat me as cold as fuck. and i don’t get what did i do to deserve this.” he complained to his boys

he was really disappointed

because he knew he felt different to what he had ever felt before with you

he thought he was learning to fall in love, to stop worrying just about him and his friends

“am i not enough? have i bored her? or have i pressured her? i’m going crazy because i don’t even know why do i feel like this”

(ಥ⌣ಥ)

“hyunjin you like her is pretty easy actually”

did minho just

DID LEE FUCKING MINHO JUST

“what????? i’d never had something like that for anyone. it’s true things are different with her but—”

“when was the last time you did that fake dating thing?” chan asked

“well... like a month? i was busy”

“busy with what you genius”

seungmin don’t cross the line

“i... i was spending time with Y/N”

was this boy the same hwang hyunjin from a month before???

“omfg guys i think i like her but like a lot”

“dumbass that’s exactly what we are saying”

poor jeongin got slightly hit buy the so called dumbass :(

“but this doesn’t have anything to do with why she’s been dodging me like bullets??”

they all looked to felix and jisung, expecting they would know anything

“to be honest... i‘m not sure. she hasn’t told us anything” jisung said.

“well, the last time we talked about you we told her to ask you to go with her to her parents’ ball, and then i told her that you two already looked like a couple” felix said

then felix went

（・□・；）

“oh... so she doesn’t like me...”

hyunjin felt like the whole world was going down

there was this thing burning on his chest, a thing that he thought he could only feel for his friends or family

but then, you showed him he was wrong, again

“wait- i think i’ve connected the two dots— ” jisung said, but lix interrumped him

“no, you didn’t connect shit. i get it now. hyunjin, she thinks that you’ve been acting all the time to prove you should go with her to the ball. that’s why she’s avoiding you, because she thinks you just tried to play her” felix said

hyunjin’s heart broke a bit more when he processed felix’s words

(╥_╥) (╥_╥) (╥_╥) (╥_╥)

he... he hurt you

and really bad

“oh god, i’m so fucking stupid. what do i do know? she hates me!”

“ugh, go get your girl you dumbass!” changbin said

hyunjin suddenly started working again, and rushed off while calling someone.

so yeah back with u lil creature

you were doing homework, but you couldn’t focus

so you went to the kitchen to grab some snacks

and then your phone ringed

“ryujin?” you answered

“yeah. i’m at daehwi’s and i forgot to take a jacket. i will be passing be there in his car in like... 15 minutes. could you give me the versace one?”

“the colorful one or the leather one? ” you asked with your mouth full of a chocolate cookie

ryujin felt relief

“the leather one”

“okay. but weren’t you studying in the library for a physics exam?”

o shit

“i just went to his house! to study together! anyways! see you later! sis!”

????? weird

anyways you finished your math homework, and when you realized, you just got a message from her saying she was outside

so you got her jacket and opened the door in order to look for daehwi’s car

oh hyunjin’s there

cool

WAIT WHAT

you slammed the door in his face

then you realized THAT WAS WAY WORSE

“OMG I’M SORRY”

“can you open please?” he said from outside

you really missed his deep and soothing voice

“i- well- yes”

you opened the door, not being able to look directly at him

“can we talk? just give me five minutes, and if you still hate me after that i’ll just stop bothering you”

“i don’t hate you, and you- you aren’t bothering me”

“well... this past days it didn’t look like that. more like, exactly the opposite”

you went silent because you had literally no excuse

“are you mad?” he said

“why would i?”

“i don’t know either, that’s why i’m asking. i mean, it’s not like you’ve been avoiding me for days, not answering a single message or call. that’s all”

touché

“are you mad?”

you knew he should be, you deeply hoped he wouldn’t

“Y/N, i know you thought i was playing with you”

“wait- you weren’t?”

“oh god. i really told you i didn’t know what would i do if anyone hurt you, so why would i?”

“i thought... you were trying to prove i should have payed you to go to the ball...” you quietly said

but you looked at him when you heard him sobbing softly

“Y/N, you are the first person i’ve ever fallen for. i’ve been with plenty of people, and no one had ever make me fall like this. i don’t know why am i even crying in front of you, all i know is that i really, really like you”

your eyes were wider than the pacific ocean

HWANG HYUNJIN

HWANG HYUNJIN LIKED YOU BACK??????

LIKE,,,,, FORREAL?????

“i know you probably still hate me but please... if you at least gave me a chance for still being friends...”

“hyunjin”

GO AHEAD GURL

“what?” he stopped sobbing

“hyunjin, i like you too”

you didn’t even know what was happening, but you knew your mouth kept talking

“wait, you do???”

“hyunjin, i- i was avoiding you because i didn’t want to fall harder”

you were still malfunctioning

then you saw him getting closer to you

“can i,, like,,, kiss you?”

WHAT THE FUCK Y/N YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO SAY THAT

but his lips looked so soft HHHHHHhHhhhhhhHHhHHHHHhhhHH

he didn’t answer you

well at least not verbally

boi just WENT FOR IT

you thought you wouldn’t mind if you died there

his lips were even softer than they looked

was that like paradise felt?

but then,,,

“WELL GUYS I GUESS YOU TWO MADE UP HAHA COOL”

you two separated immediatly

“RYUJIN WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU”

you, alias, tomato 1 said

“well i guess you two have to look for some clothes for the ball because there are only three days left, so go make out in another place but not in the porch. i don’t want to see hyunjin eating your face when i get home”

hyunjin, alias, tomato 2 intensified

“just,,, leave okay?”

you two lovebirds went for a walk, without a specific direction

you couldn’t be any more embarrassed

“can i call you my girlfriend?” he said

“i- yes”

THEN HE HELD YOUR HAND (ㄒoㄒ)

can you two get any cuter omg

“let’s go to the mall to look for some fancy clothes for my cute girlfriend and me and then make out when we get back”

“ ?????? HYUNJIN HHHHHHHHH STOP”

“n e v e r”

[whatisthiscontentyouspeakof]

Guardian of Light

So for anyone wondering, I don’t have an update schedule at all, just posting when I feel like it, mostly to avoid going to bed. This chapter gives you some information and a flashback to Marinette’s past before she was found unconscious in Paris. 

Would it be helpful to you guys if I put Marinette’s age at the beginning of each section so you have an idea of how much time has past between each part of the story.

AO3  First  Previous Next

Chapter 4: First Days

(Age 3)

Marinette was used to her colourful bedroom so when she awoke in a room that was completely white she was confused. There was no blue ceiling with fluffy white clouds and glow in the dark star stickers, no lush green mountains or fields with fun little animals running around, no giant stuffed animals or anything of the other things that were in her room.

Confused, she was about to call out for her Maman and Papa when she remembered the birthday party in the park and the strange man that had taken her away. Tears started to form in her eyes as the fear came back.

“None of that now.” A voice said. Marinette turned her head to see the man who had taken her standing in the rooms’ doorway. “Crying is for the weak and the weak are unacceptable here.”

“I want to go home,” Marinette said. A part of her wanted to suck on her thumb but that was something babies did and she was three. Not to mention she had a feeling that if crying wasn’t allowed, then neither was thumb sucking.

“Whining is unbecoming of a young lady such as yourself,” The man said. “As for going home, there is no need; this is your home now, Niu.”

“Niu?” Marinette repeated, having never heard the word before. The man had pronounced it ‘nee oo’.

“Your name,” the man said.

“My name is Marinette,” she told him, confused. He had called her it in the park after all.

“That was the name of a weakling, of someone insignificant and worthless,” The man’s voice was cold and mean sounding. “Niu is your name now. You will respond to it. You will not ever respond to Marinette ever again. If you do not follow either of these rules, you will not like what happens. Failure is not acceptable here. Marinette is dead as of today. In her place stands Niu, someone who will be worth something, who will make a difference in the world. From this day on, you will be training with me and the other Guardians so that you can reach that goal. When you are done with your training and have shown us that you are worthy of the title of Grand Guardian you will be able to earn your own name.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Guardian Zhu. I will be your teacher from this point forward. To fail or to be weak here isn’t just a short coming on your part but it also negatively affects me. As such, I expect nothing but perfection from you. If you do not perform to perfection then you will have to face the consequences, and trust me when I say, you will not like them. Now get up. It is time to eat and then I will be showing you what chores I will be expecting you to do every day upon waking.”

Marinette’s chest felt like lead. She swallowed before swinging her legs over the bed and standing up. She walked over to Guardian Zhu, her head looking down at the ground as her heart pounded; her entire body trembling as she walked.

Guardian Zhu whipped around, his hand reaching out and slapping her straight across the face. Marinette fell to the ground, one hand reaching up to touch her face in shock. “You will answer me with a ‘yes Master’ when I speak to you.” Guardian Zhu said sternly.

Marinette looked up at him, her heart pounding. “Yes Master,” she whispered.

(Age 12)

Marinette walked calmly down to the bakery, her parents already down there and working for the day. She would have normally been down there, learning their trade the same way she had every other day, but today marked the first day of school for her. Her parents informed her that she had been in school and with her class the day she was taken but as far as she could remember she had only been taught by a parade of different tutors from across the world. The largest group of peers she had learned with had been four, and that had only been on the one occasion, with most of her other classes either being just her, her and Nuri, or her, Nuri and his cousin, though it was rare that Mara was allowed to learn with them. The rest of the Fist weren’t allowed to ever train with her or Nuri since they were seen as so below them. Never had she been in a class full of strangers.

“Morning Marinette,” Her father greeted from where he was kneading some dough.

“Morning Tom,” she greeted. She and her parents had agreed that it was a bit too soon for her to call them anything but their names. She was waiting for some sort of ‘special’ occasion to call them by any paternal nicknames, though she was unsure if she would ever truly view them as her mom or dad. She wished she could talk to Nuri about this. He would know what it was like to suddenly find himself living with a biological parent that was more stranger than parent.

“Are you ready for your first day of school?” Sabine asked her, having just finished ringing up a customer. The only one that had been in the bakery. The calm before the breakfast rush.

“I have all the suggestion supplies and a few of my own,” Marinette told her. She wasn’t sure what she expected from classes, she didn’t need them after all since she was guaranteed to be farther ahead in her own studies, but they were going to make her seem like a normal kid. She just had to remember to get a question wrong every once in a while and not to see eager to answer questions.

“I meant mentally, sweetie,” Her mother said.

Marinette shrugged, something that would have gotten her smacked at the very least if she’d done it at the Temple or League, but was something she’d seen Chloe do regularly enough that she assumed it was something common among Paris school children. “I see no reason not to be ready. It’s school. I listen to teachers talk about subjects, I socialize, I eat, I go back to class, I come back here.”

Sabine just smiled at her like she was missing something. Why would she be nervous about school of all things? It’s not like she was scaling a cliff wall during an earthquake without any equipment. “If you get overwhelmed or anything like that you can come home right away and we’ll let the school know you weren’t feeling well or something,” Sabine offered.

Marinette smiled at her and thanked her for the offer even though she was sure she wouldn’t need it. It was the polite thing to do after all.

“Here’s your lunch,” Tom said, handing her a stack of tupperware. She placed it in her bag and looked up to see her father handing her a box with the bakeries logo on it. “A little treat to share with your classmates on the first day of the year.”

“Thank you,” Marinette said smiling up at her father. He just offered her the perfect chance to get to know her classmates and decide which ones would be the most useful to be on friendly terms with.

Marinette was about two steps out the bakery doors when a limo pulled up long the crub. The window rolled down to reveal Chloe.

“Get in,” she said.

“The school is literally across the street,” Marinette protested. “Why don’t you get out and walk?”

“Because I’m wearing heels,” Chloe said. Marinette couldn’t really argue against that. Even the Temple didn’t make her wear heels unless absolutely necessary.

Marinette climbed into the limo, realizing there was someone else in the limo. “Hi I’m Marinette,” she said, putting her hand out for the other girl, a red head, to shake.

The girl gripped her hand, firm and professional. “I’m Sabrina Raincomprix. Sorry we haven’t met yet but I’ve been with my mom in Scotland. Divorced parents and all that. But Chloe told me how she made a new friend. I can’t wait to get to know you.”

Marinette smiled at the girl. “Same.” she said politely.

She looked the girl over noting that she looked a bit uncomfortable in her skin, though Marinette couldn’t tell if that was because she was self-conscious or she wasn’t comfortable in the clothing she was wearing. She’d bet that Chloe had picked this girls outfit out for her the same way she had for Marinette. Not that Marinette minded; it gave her a better idea of youth fashion in Paris.

Sabrina was wearing a pair of purple flared dress pants with a blue button up and dark grey blazer. Her shoes were mainly white with black toe covers, laces and soles. She had a white headband in her hair and a pair of red toned brown glasses sitting on her nose.

Chloe, on the other hand, wore an outfit of black and yellow. Actually, Marinette couldn’t think of a time in which the heiress wasn’t wearing black and yellow. At least it made buying gifts on her birthday easier if Marinette went the clothing route. She wore a black pleated skirt with balck tight and black belt. She wore a ¾ sleeve yellow shirt topped with a shiny black tie. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and with a pair of black sunglasses sitting on top of her head. Her heels were black with gold little bobbles that suggested buttons, and red underbottoms hinting to their designer origins.

Marinette had decided to wear the outfit Chloe had sent her. One, she was still trying not to rock the boat, and two, Chloe would know better than her what would be popular to wear on the first day of school. Marinette could study all she wanted but there were only things you could learn first hand. She wore a dress which had two different colours, separating the top and the bottom to give the appearance of her wearing a skirt and top. The skirt of the dress was royal blue in a half circle style. A black belt, it was really just a strip of fabric sewn into the dress, sat just below her waist, creating a drop waist silhouette. The top of the dress was also black with ¾ sleeves and a large curved neckline. Chloe had sent her a pair of black kitty heels but she had decided to wear flats and her hair was pulled up into what would be a ballerina bun if Marinette’s hair wasn’t several feet long, the layers in her hair creating a messier, more teenage, version to the perfect bun of professional ballerinas.

The limo pulled up to the curb in front of the school. The three of them got out and Chloe’s driver pulled away. Sabrina and Chloe started to head into the building but Marinette grabbed Chloe’s arm before she could get too far away.

“Why does this place feel familiar?” she asked the blond, the only person outside of her parents who knew of her kidnapping and knew her before it had happened.

Chloe looked at her paling a bit as she came to a realization. “Our old school, where we attended Maternelle, used to be here. They bulldozed it the year after you were taken,” CHloe whispered to her. “They built this school here last year when they decided to decrease class sizes in Paris and needed another school.”

“Oh,” Marinette said. After a moment she shrugged. “Hey, what better way to start a new chapter of your life then to close an old one.”

(Age 13)

There was an energy in the air when Marinette awoke that had not been there before. Something was going to happen today, she just knew it.

Marinette glanced over at the clock seeing that there were only a few minutes left until her alarm would go off and decided to get up anyways, knowing she could just say she was excited to start the school year if her parents made a comment. She didn’t know what they had against her waking up so early, they were bakers after all, but she tried to seem like she was sleeping in during the school year. She’d already been up at the wee hours of the morning to go for a run, both on the ground and across the rooftops. She wasn’t about to let herself get out of shape.

Marinette got dressed for her first day of class, slipping on the outfit that Chloe had picked out for her, once again gifting her and Sabrina with new clothing for the first day of school. Unlike the year before, Marinette’s style no longer shifted towards dark clothing, instead taking on a brighter and more colourful and inviting colour scheme, finding that it helped her fit in more and make her seem kinder and more inviting instead of cold and aloof. Not to mention she no longer had a tactical advantage with wearing darker colours that she needed to concern herself with.

This year Chloe had gotten her a pastel pink chiffon floor length skirt, something Marinette would never have picked for herself, but found herself liking it. It was also easy to hide her throwing daggers beneath the flowing skirt. She wore a whtie tank top that she did some white on white embroidery on since the outfit had arrived a couple of days before school started and she wanted to experiment with something new. She wore a light grey fisherman rib knitted sweater over it, which had actually been a hand knitted gift from Sabrina for her birthday. Judging by the texture of the yarn it was cashmere, and had likely been bought by Chloe. She had slept with curlers in her hair, leaving her hair in a nice wave before she pulled it back into one of her favourite styles, a messy bun. It hid the true length of her hair well and kept it out of her face while she worked, the messy nature making her seem more like a busy youth.

After a quick breakfast Marinette heads off to school, a box of Macarons from her dad for her to share with her classmates. She had convinced Chloe that they could just meet at school this year instead of having the blond pick her up in a limo, which meant she had to follow things like crosswalk lights, the one leading from her parents bakery to the school having just turned red when Marinette arrived. Sighing, she moved into a more relaxed position to wait only to see an old man half was across the street and a car speeding towards him.

Not about to let an old man be squished, it would put a bad spin on her day and she didn’t feel like dealing with the police, Marinette rushed forward and grabbed the man by the arm. A slight spark went through her and she glanced down spotting a bracelet on a leather string with a turtle in the middle. The spark that had come from the man could have been static shock but Marinette had trained long and hard enough to know what it felt to make contact with someone else who had trained to be a Guardian. This was the man who had all but destroyed the Order of Guardians, running off with the First Miracle Box and apparently wielding the Turtle Miraculous.

Marinette dropped her pastry box, making it appear as if she had stumbled a bit as the two of them made it safely back onto the sidewalk, reaching into her pocket to grab a tiny tracker that would look to the untrained eye to be a small pebble and slipped it into the man's pocket. She couldn’t let on that she had sense anything different about him but she wasn’t about to let him get away.

Marinette picked her dessert box off the ground hoping she hadn’t destroyed too many of the delicate macarons with that little trick before offering the man one out of politeness before crossing the street with a quick ‘stay safe’. If she found out where the man worked, most Guardians were to be self employed, she could ‘stumble’ upon it and try to gain the man's trust, at least until she found where the First Miracle Box was and could claim it, though it would be better if she could manipulate the old man into giving it to her since it would create a stronger bond right off the bat. She would stop at nothing to get the box however, even if it meant taking years to create a strong enough bond with the box and the Kwami’s inside. After all, the only reason the Guardians had not tried to contact her or bring her back to the Temple was because of their belief that unseen powers brought things to be and that one of those unseen powers was one of the reasons Marinette reunited with her parents and thus there must be a reason that she had to stay in Paris. Reclaiming the First Miracle Box and becoming Grand Guardian was her destiny and now she knew for a fact that it was in Paris, within miles of her, and she’d rather die than let it slip through her fingers then fail her destiny.

Heading over to the school, Marinette pushed thoughts of the First Miracle Box from her mind, instead focusing on being just Marinette, the daughter of two bakers. She smiled as she climbed the school steps instantly spotting Chloe standing just inside the entrance.

“I thought I’d have to make my way to our classroom before I found you,” she told the heiress. “What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you obvious,” Chloe said, lying to her. Marinette decided not to push it at the moment, mainly because the bell for them to head to class sounded, and she had all over lunch to interrogate her friend.

The world was apparently against her finding out what Chloe was lying to her for because after their first class during their study period, a massive crash sounded around the school. The surveillance showed one of her classmates, Ivan, transformed into a stone being. Marinette could have waved off the sudden attack as one of a pissed off Meta the way a lot of her schoolmates were doing, but with the meeting between her and the shameful Grand Guardian trainee had her thinking it was all too much of a coincidence for it not to all be Miraculous related.

Marinette made her way home and up to her room to formulate a plan on how she could be involved without bringing unwanted attention to herself but the second she stepped into her room she sensed something off. A quick glance around the room showed that someone had been up there and had left a black box on her desk. Someone who wasn’t her parents since they’d be too busy with the bakery to step out.

Slowly approaching the box, Marinette started going over all the possibilities of what the box could be when she saw a familiar symbol, one she had seen all her life.

The symbol of the Order of Guardians

A miraculous box was sitting on her desk.

Stepping forward she picked up the box and opened it, closing her eyes so as not to be blinded by the bright light that it omitted as the Kwami inside formed its physical body.

She opened her eyes and had to blink, not quite believing what she was seeing.

“Hello Marinette, you are the only one who can stop Stoneheart and save Ivan and the rest of Paris,” The Kwami, the Scarab Kwami, said looking up at her with wide eyes.

She was chosen to be the next Scarab wielder.

Well shit, she hadn’t been this put off by a surprise revelation since she’d woken from the coma to find her birth parents waiting for her. Who knew that this was how the day was going to go.

Next

Tag List

@ertyzeta

@miraculousbella

@mochegato

@how-to-fuction-properly

@clumsy-owl-4178

@nach0ava

@laurcad123

@wannajointhecrabcult

@diamondjewel123

@fantasyislive

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@sassakitty

@lavenderjunes

@depressedrainbowcake

@maybe-nonsense

@chocolateherringtacofan

@maybe-nonsense

[artificialqueens]

The mistakes we're going to make (Jan/Jackie) - Meggie

A/N: Hey all! I had the pleasure of writing this little gem for Molly for our gc’s gift exchange. I really enjoy writing this dynamic, and I hope you all enjoy it too! Thank you to Mac, Mia, and Alex for prereading for me. Y'all are the real MVPs.

Summary: when i look at you, all i can see are the mistakes we’re going to make (the future’s so bright)

They’re graduating high school tomorrow night, but all Jan can think about is her calculus final and whether or not she can scrape by with an A.

She’s done the calculations approximately 47 times (and had Jackie check them over nine more because Jan’s shit at math now apparently), and she knows she has to make an 82 on the final to pull an A in the class. And that will get her an 89.5 which rounds to an A. She’d rather not cut it that close, thank you very much.

To anyone else, a B would not be the end of the world, but it would be Jan’s only B. Ever. To get out of high school with a perfect GPA, an unblemished transcript, a perfect record… That’s been her goal ever since she graced the hallways of R.P. Charles High School three years ago.

So after finishing Ms. West’s history final, she pulls out her calc book and dutifully studies her notes. They’re meticulous, her rounded penmanship in stark black ink. She purses her lips and wonders if she has enough time to redo them in colored ink according to her color-coding system.

Behind her, Brita mutters to herself and furiously erases a sentence in her essay. Written responses have always been her downfall. To Jan’s right, Gigi takes a mirror out of her purse and retouches her lipstick.

“Why are you studying?” Gigi whispers. “You literally just finished a test, and it’s a half day. We’re done after this.”

“Yeah, but my calc test is tomorrow, and Ms. Hytes is not as lenient a grader as Ms. West.” Jan sighs and runs a hand through her hair.

Gigi pulls a face. “God, why’d you even take calc? You didn’t need the credit.” Gigi had taken personal health instead of a math class. She said their final was about sexually transmitted infections, which apparently is the new name for sexually transmitted diseases.

Jan shrugs. “I wanted to be—”

“—valedictorian, yeah, I know,” Gigi finishes. “Well, anyway. That didn’t work out the way you planned, did it?”

At the front of the room, Ms. West clears her throat and widens her eyes at the girls. Gigi sits back in her desk and primly folds her hands. Jan is free to once again study her notes, but Gigi’s last words still sting.

She had only taken calculus because it was an AP class, guaranteed to get her extra GPA points she would need to wrap up the valedictory. What she hadn’t counted on was being terrible at calculus.

Sure, geometry hadn’t been a walk in the park, but trig had been a piece of cake. So she figured that with a little bit of extra studying, she could carve out an A and stake her claim on the title of valedictorian, something she’d wanted ever since she had learned what the valedictorian was. (Kindergarten. When her parents had taken her to see her cousin graduate. And the pretty girl at the front had gotten up to make a speech in front of all her classmates, and everyone had to pay attention to her for a whole ten minutes while she talked about things that were important to her. Jan wanted that.)

But in March after third quarter grades were calculated and the honors had been announced, she’d ended up salutatorian, literally two hundredths of a point behind Jackie Cox. It had been a two-man race between her and Jackie all throughout high school, but the difference had been that damn calculus class. Jackie had an A; Jan had a B.

Jan’s parents had doted on her just the same as they would have if she’d been valedictorian, taking her to dinner at her favorite restaurant, celebrating with cake and sparkling grape juice out of the champagne flutes usually reserved for New Year’s Eve, but Jan couldn’t help but sense a little tinge of disappointment behind their smiles. Close, but no cigar. She’d still give a speech, but it would be shorter, and no one really cared what the salutatorian had to say. She’d worked so hard for four years to achieve the top honor and now she had to stand back and watch someone else deliver her valedictory.

Even if that someone was her very close friend.

There’s a certain closeness that develops between students when you take all the same classes for four years, and Jackie Cox had been in all of Jan’s classes since freshman year. By design, their schedules had ended up being very similar. It helped that they were into the same extracurricular activities as well. They were both athletic, both involved in student government and the debate team. They even both participated in the spring musicals: Jan onstage in a lead role, Jackie backstage as part of the tech crew.

But as their friendship grew so did their rivalry, at least on Jan’s part. She’d always seen Jackie as a reminder that she had to work harder to be her best. With Jackie, everything always seemed so effortless. Her poise, her perfection, even the way she spoke and carried herself. Jan felt like she herself was constantly obsessing over everything she thought and said. When she looked at Jackie, she felt like the other girl just had a natural ease about her.

She’d tried for years to be more like Jackie. But the feeling grew especially deep after they’d received their first calculus quizzes in October and Jan’s was emblazoned with a fat, red D. Jackie’s, on the other hand, sported an A.

Ms. Hytes had asked Jan to stay behind after class so she could encourage her to either drop the class or consider hiring a tutor.

Failure was absolutely out of the question. So Jan asked for help. She asked Jackie for help.

Honestly, if it wasn’t for Jackie, she wouldn’t be pulling a B in calculus. Not at all. In fact, she probably would have failed out at semester.

So now that there’s this final that she has to prepare for, there’s only one person she trusts to help her study for it.

Jan catches Jackie in the hallway (their lockers are nowhere close because that’s the way life—and the alphabet—works, but Jan is good at getting what she wants), and asks her if she feels ready for the final tomorrow.

Jackie sighs, the exhalation blowing the dark curtain of hair off her forehead. “I mean, I think. I might look over my notes again tonight. You feel good about it?”

Jan laughs, high-pitched, a tell-tale sign of her anxiety. She hates that she wears her emotions like an oversized sweater. “No, actually. That’s kind of why I’m here.”

So anyway, that’s how they end up on Jan’s bedroom floor, calculus books open in their laps, a plate of chocolate chip cookies and glasses of Dr Pepper set aside because Jackie is a Professional when it comes to this whole studying thing.

(That’s probably why she’s the valedictorian and you’re not, a hateful, nasty voice whispers in the back of Jan’s head. Because she’s dedicated to studying and you’re worried about whether or not she likes your cookies.)

She won’t think about the fact that for the past six months, she’s also been concerned about whether or not Jackie likes her.

It’s not exactly something she’s prepared to deal with.

Jan’s dated before, of course, but they’ve always been boys. And now, all of a sudden and by some act of whatever god exists, she finds herself having a massive crush on Jackie.

So she’s bisexual. It’s fine. She’s had years to deal with this, and she’s always kind of wondered.

Honestly, she’s chalking it up to academic jealousy.

Jan just wants to be like her, that’s all. It has nothing to do with the way her long, dark hair cascades in waves down her back, or the way her eyes sparkle when she laughs, or the way Jackie had caught her backstage right before opening night of Carousel and grasped her hands and told her to break a leg and knock them dead and basically be the best Carrie anyone had ever seen before kissing her cheek.

Except it totally does.

“So to compute the three-by-three you have to multiply A by the two-by-two determinant of the matrix,” Jackie says, marking something in her notebook. “Now, how do I get that?”

“Huh?” Jan asks stupidly, brought back from her reverie by the question. “God, I’m sorry. I’m just…” She scrubs her hands down her face then immediately regrets it because her eyeliner is now definitely smeared. “I’m out of it.”

Jackie nods and presses her lips together. She breathes in quickly like she’s going to say something, but changes her mind at the last minute. She taps her pencil on her notebook.

“Sorry I’m wasting your time,” Jan says sheepishly. “You can go if you want…”

“No!” Jackie says quickly. “No, it’s not that. I just… I’m just wondering…” She sighs. “Things have been kind of weird between us ever since spring break… Since the honors were announced, and I just…” She shrugs. “I guess I just want to know if you like, hate me for being valedictorian over you.”

Jan gasps. “I could never hate you.” She hadn’t known that her disappointment was quite so palpable. Then she decides that Jackie deserves to know the absolute truth. “I was disappointed. My parents expect a lot out of me, and they… They’ve been pushing for this since, like, forever. I just didn’t want to let them down.”

Jackie’s eyes widen. “Salutatorian is letting them down?”

Jan shakes her head. “You don’t know my parents.”

“No. But I think I kind of understand. ” Jackie closes her book and pulls her knees into her chest. “You know my parents immigrated from Iran, right? So like, the American dream? That’s all they want for me. And that includes college. A good one.” She laughs. “My mom wants me to be a doctor.”

“What do you want to be?” Jan asks quietly.

Jackie’s quiet for a moment before she shakes her head. “I don’t know. I don’t think anyone’s actually asked me that before. Isn’t that wild? I’m 18, and I have no idea what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

Jan shrugs. “We’re 18. I don’t think we’re supposed to know what we want to do with the rest of our lives.”

“I know one thing I want to do, though,” Jackie says, smiling. “When I get to college, I’m going to kiss a girl. I’ve always wanted to. I mean, I know I’m gay so like. That’ll be nice.”

“You can’t do that here?”

“Are you kidding?” She scoffs. “My mother would kill me. And that’s before my dad finds out.”

Jan shrugs. “You could kiss me. If you wanted.” Her cheeks fill with color. She’s never this brash, this forward. But the opportunity had presented itself and she’d taken it. “I mean, or not. Whatever. It’s fine—”

“Jan.” Jackie’s looking at her, dark eyes narrowed as her hand creeps up to cup her chin gently, and Jan has just enough time to gasp in a shock of air before their lips meet softly, tenderly, slowly meshing together. Kissing Jackie is so much better than kissing any of the boys she’s ever dated before.

Jackie pulls away far before Jan wants her to, and she’s left wanting more. She shudders a sigh and opens her eyes slowly.

“Wow,” she says.

“Yeah,” Jackie replies, brushing the hair off her shoulders. “That was… Umm. We should probably study, though.”

“Right. Of course.” Jan blushes again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Distract you.”

“Jan…” Jackie’s hand falls softly over her knee. “We can kiss more when we get through matrix determinants, okay?”

Jan isn’t sure what it is, but something about this new teaching method suddenly makes perfect sense.

She makes a 93 on her final and finishes the semester with an A.

[moon-yeongjun]

Money Money Money || Mu Jun

Summary: Jun mentions the spring break trip that Marlin had no idea about!! Or: how Nemo came to go on the Spring Break trip pt 1. 

@baenxietydad​

JUN: 

It was another couple of slow hours at the store, a small relief that only came once a day. Jun could more or less predict these hours; Swynlake had its schedules, its ebbs and flows. And over the years, Mu-yeol knew these hours well too, and sometimes stopped by to do his shopping when the crowds were sparse and he could linger, chatting for a few and sharing a bag of imported shrimp crackers with Jun.

Right now, Jun was also grading some of Tae’s extra credit that he was doing so he could go on that upcoming trip to the middle of some mediterrean country (where was it?  He forgot). That had been the deal. They could not have a repeat of last year after all, when Tae had failed his exams and was now repeating the year. 

“Aish, this is so depressing,” Jun complained as he looked up from his brother’s grammar quiz. “English isn’t even my first language, and look at this! That kid.” 

MARLIN:

“English isn’t even my third language and...aiya. I’m not his parent, I can’t judge Tae harshly.” Mu-yeol was already trying hard not to be too harsh on Tae for other things. Namely, for being what he saw as selfishly holding onto his son when he couldn’t be out yet, making Nemo feel like a dirty secret.

Just like Robbie.

His son deserved better than either of them but at least Tae wasn’t a disgusting vampire. And it wasn’t like it was Tae’s fault he couldn’t be out. Mu-yeol didn’t fault him for that, not one bit, and he had genuine compassion for the young man, but that didn’t excuse letting Nam-min’s only teenage flings be secretive and shameful.

No matter how much Nemo told himself that wasn’t the case, a part of him would feel it.

“You could talk to Eun-jung noona about seeing if Tae has dyslexia or something. He’s not a lazy kid, that’s why I bring it up. Maybe he just isn’t being shown the best ways to study and improve for him. Children aren’t a monolith and cannot possibly learn like they are.”

JUN: 

Dyslexia? Jun made a disbelieving face.

He knew such things existed of course, but it wasn’t like his family to talk about such things as learning disabilities. They had always been told to work hard and if they needed extra help, well, there were tutors for that kind of thing! Jun himself had used tutors when it came to his French class. And he offered that to Tae all the time, but did Tae ever take advantage of such an opportunity? No, no.

Because he was a lazy kid.

Or-- maybe it wasn’t laziness. More likely it was frustration. He knew that Tae thought he was stupid, so he treated himself like he was stupid, like it didn’t matter how much he tried. But that kind of defeatist attitude just made things worse. 

“I’m not sure it’s like that. I think he just has the wrong attitude about these things,” said Jun. “He isn’t motivated, doesn’t even want to go to uni. I have to bribe him to do this work, did you know that? He’s only doing these things so he can go on the spring break trip-- maybe. Though--” Jun sucked his teeth, eyes bulging as he looked back down again. It did not seem likely. 

MARLIN:

Mu-yeol was about to say ‘then look into it and be proven right’, but something Jun said gave him pause. Spring...break...trip? What trip? Were the Moons going to Korea for Tae and girls’ spring break? Oh, maybe Eun-jun noona wouldn’t mind sending some small things to his parents in the Korean post. They’d reach them much faster than if he mailed them all the way from Swynlake.

“Are you visiting family in Korea?”

JUN:

His brows furrowed at the mention of Korea out of nowhere, but he did not look up from where he was marking Tae’s quiz. He’d gotten a question right! Who knew if it was a good guess or not, though? 

“What?” Jun flipped over the paper, then looked up and snorted. “Eh, you know we don’t have money for something like that. Besides, Samchon lives in Toronto now, you know that.” 

He was referred to Abeoji’s younger brother, Nam-seok who had immigrated and married a Canadian-Korean music teacher. They had two sons, Jacob and Kevin, who were right in the middle between himself and Tae-- 24 and 23 respectfully. They only ever saw each other every five, six years. 

There was no other family in Korea-- not really. Eomma had no siblings. There were his Abeoji’s and Eomma’s cousins, but it had been years since they had talked to them. 

MARLIN:

“Ah, that’s right.” Mu-yeol said, nodding slowly. “Taekwondo trip, then.”

He said this knowingly, because that was obviously the answer.

Mu-yeol couldn’t think of any other possible trip Tae could be trying to go on. And Tae did taekwondo! That had to be it. A competition perhaps that was further a drive than the Coventry trip had been.

JUN: 

Once again, he looked at his hyung, bewildered. 

There could only be one trip. Why didn’t he know? Well, he supposed Mu-yeol was not going to send Nemo-- that made sense, it was expensive and normally the Moons wouldn’t spend money on such things, but Eomma was feeling guilty these days, and most of Tae’s friends would graduate after this year. Using the trip for educational incentive was a good trick anyhow. Tae couldn’t fail again. 

“No! Spring Break,” said Jun, and when Mu-yeol still looked at him blankly, he scoffed again. “You know? To Budva or something? It happens every year, all the upperclassmen can go.” 

MARLIN:

“...spring what? Do they really? Nam-minnie never mentioned such a trip last year. Or this year. I wonder why.” Mu-yeol looked down at the counter, chewing on his inner cheek. 

He knew why of course. Nemo didn’t think he could afford it and while that was probably true, it hurt that Nemo assumed he shouldn’t bother asking. Would his Appa not do all he could to make his son happy and give him opportunities? 

Was he not an Appa that prioritized Nemo over all else?

“Budva sounds Slavic.”

JUN: 

Jun’s lips pulled down in a surprised sort of frown. “Really? It’s all Tae has been talking about for weeks.” 

Well, not all, but it was quite the focus. He even wanted a new bathing suit for it. But he’d not gotten a new one in a few years, so it wasn’t so much of an expense. 

“Eh, I don’t know, it’s been too many years since I’ve taken any geography. It’s in Montenegro, a little peninsula. It looks nice.” He shrugged as he looked down at the quiz again. “Though it’s far, so-- maybe-- maybe that was why he didn’t say anything.” 

No. Jun knew too. When Tae asked, he had said it like this: I know it’s too expensive, but…

Eomma had scoffed, insisted on looking at the papers, refused to grimace at the number. 

MARLIN:

“I’m sure that’s it.” Though he knew Jun knew the real reason was money. “I would never let him travel so far without me. I wouldn’t even let him go to Coventry alone and I trust you with him.”

Yes, the distance. That was all. 

“I’ll...talk to Nam-min about it. Maybe he doesn’t care for beaches.”

JUN: 

The air was tense and heavy now, the subject of money, this terrible, huge brick wall between them. Or maybe that's the wrong metaphor. Maybe it was more like a heavy, dark cloud, and if they said anything about it, then the cloud would unleash. 

And so Jun did not want to look his hyung in the eye. 

He just nodded a little. “Eh, smart boy. Beaches are messy, crowded, terrible tourist traps, you know.” A beat. His pen moved over Tae’s quiz but he had already finished grading it. “Though they do let parents go as chaperones.” 

MARLIN:

“Ah, I see.”

What he saw was GBP signs asking him for money he didn’t have. Because of course he’d still have to pay his way. Fun was the privilege of the wealthy, see.

“I’m not sure I’m one for beaches either.”

Read: you know I’m too broke for that.

JUN: 

He got the message. 

He wished he could offer some sort of solution. That was what Jun did. But aiya, he couldn’t go on the trip. No one would care for the market in his stead; his Eomma could not do such a thing and take care of his three sisters, who would still be in school several weeks before their holiday. And he knew better to offer money. He did not have much money to offer anyway.

And so Jun just nodded. Best to...change the subject. Let Mu-yeol’s pride remain as unwounded as possible, even if, Jun could tell, his ignorance of the topic was a cut quite deep. 

“Eh, well that’s because you’re smart too!” Jun exclaimed, grinning. “Now anyway, how’s Pixie’s doing, eh? Any more terrible tourists these days?”

[prettylittlelyres]

My Year in Writing (2020)

Hello and Happy New Year! I thought it might be nice to share with you all an overview of what I've written in 2020.

First of all, let me say that I haven't written nearly as much as I wanted to, but that's OK, and it's OK if the amount you've written feels or looks pretty similar. The point is, it looks some way (I daresay pretty) because you've taken up the pen and put some words on a page.

I don't want to gloss over how bad aspects of my 2020 Writing Year have disappointed me, because that would be as silly as casting a damper on the whole thing by focusing only on the trickier bits. What I'm aiming for here is a balanced review - even if it's a rather informal one - of my achievements, and my feelings about my writing this year. In the interest of balance, let's start with something GOOD!

Right at the beginning of the year - around January - I started redrafting a rather fabulously dark fantasy romance, of which you've probably seen a little bit on this blog: Songs from the Crypt Forest, which I dropped after 9,800 words, because I wanted - and needed to work on my first dedicated book, and on my Year Abroad Research Project.

I managed to write about 17,000 words of the dedicated book in its original form before I realised that it wasn't quite working, and that I ought to try a different tack. The story I was telling there is a story I still want to tell, but I just wasn't ready to write it at the time. I'm hoping to pick it up properly in 2021.

I realised I needed to try getting back into the world I wrote in 'Violins and Violets', by writing something set around the same time and involving some of the same characters. In March, I started writing 'Book J', for which I didn’t have a proper title until I was nearly done with its first draft! I gave it the working title 'Book J', because I was writing it for my friend Jenny. By the time summer came round I had 52,000 words, and a first draft that was as complete as I think it ever will be.

Lockdown hit my life quite hard in Spring 2020, and I lost my language assistant job in France when all schools closed, and I had to come back to the UK to live out the academic year with my parents. Nevertheless I had to carry on working with my Year Abroad Research Project, Which I was able to hand in by 18th May, having squeezed all my findings into a dissertation of 6,000 words.

Now that my YARP was out of my way, and I had no more work to do for university, I started redrafting Jenny's book, now called 'Vogeltje', and cut it down to 44,000 words, which I polished until August... when I had copies printed for Jenny, so that she could read a book written especially for her. I would have given it to her in person in France, but lockdown happened, and I ended up posting her copies from one part of South England to another. A rather typical outcome for a meetup planned in 2019 for 2020, I suspect!

During lockdown, I also trained as a proof-reader and copyeditor, and did some volunteer work for a company that needed translators. Online training courses have been a godsend, and I've particularly enjoyed a novel writing course and a travel writing course that I've been following. The novel writing course has pushed me to flesh out plans for a number of books, including more detailed and cohesive outlines for 'Songs from the Crypt Forest' and 'The Night Has Teeth' (two books I want to write in a similar universe), along with my on-again-off-again WIP 'The Manylove Quarter' - and the plans for these three alone come to 7,850+ words!

I moved back to Southampton in July, and took August to start drafting 'The Manylove Quarter ', but that ended up petering out with about 19,200 words of prose on the page. Still, I spent a lot of time querying, and got plenty of reading done, so - especially considering the heatwaves in my area and a pretty enormous academic crisis in my record (fixed in November, after writing a LOT of letters and reports!!! So, this is where I send a million hugs to my lecturers and tutors for all the help they've given me, thank you, thank you, thank you all SO MUCH!!!) - I still felt fairly well-accomplished at the end of the month. I also did quite a bit of painting.

In August and September, I started typing up the journal I've been keeping since the beginning of April, once I'd settled back into life in the UK, to keep track of my feelings about the pandemic and my reactions to what I've seen or heard in the news. I write an average of 6,000 words per month, so I'm coming up to 50,000 words on the whole thing (but have yet to type up November or December). One day, I'll use it to write some extremely illustrious memoirs about how much fun, I had stamping up and down the stairs in my parents' house in order to get my steps in! (I really did get quite fit, though, and I want to get back to it in the New Year!)

At the start of September, I published a 2,500-word travel log my university's "study abroad" blog, all about how much I came to love the French city of La Rochelle, where I spent my 3rd year working. I think I will polish it at least a little before I post it here, but I would love to post a redrafted version on this blog!

My final year of university (BA Modern Languages, French and German) started in October, so all my reading and writing that month - or so it felt - was linked to my course. However. I've lost count of how many pieces I've translated between English, French and German, just to prepare for each class. I love my course, but it doesn't leave much energy for anything else!

Welcome to November, when all my graded assignments were due at once, and the associated stress started taking its toll. Luckily, my tutors were there to help me get extensions for work I couldn't hand in on time because my brain had turned into mashed potato. By the middle of December, I ended up with a 300-word translation and 300-word scripted scene for French, a 1,000-word commentary on a translation into English, a 2,500-word essay for French History, and a 2,000-word short story for German, which I've translated into English, and will post here any day.

This has really been a big year for letter-writing, especially since I came back from France. My cousin and I love writing longhand letters to each other, as I love writing them to my grandmothers, and, as such, I've written about one hundred letters this year! My cousin and I have kept every letter we've ever sent each other, and these collections have approximately doubled in size since the start of 2020.

I keep trying to redraft the first chapters of 'The Manylove Quarter', but never seem to get very far. With about 3 redrafts started since Autumn, I'd say l have about 1,000 words typed up. I can probably say the same of the story I'm trying to write as a kind of Standalone, kind of Sequel to 'This Still Happens' and 'Curls of Smoke', except that I'd put those around the 2,000-word mark.

If my Mathematic capabilities still stand up, I estimate I've written about 210,000 words in total this year (not including text messages, letters, emails and entries in my regular diary (which I keep separately to my pandemic journal)), which. honestly, makes me feel a little like I've failed myself.

That's why l'm making this post, actually, to address that feeling - because | know it's not rational, so I'm not going to call it "that fact" - and to tot all my work up in one place, so that I can see my achievements as one big hulk. Looking at my 2020 in terms of projects l've actually finished, it's disappointing! But to look at 2020 as a final wordcount makes me feel an awful lot better. My sister just pointed out that "210,000 words" is "nearly a quarter of a million words", and, put in that way, it's much easier to feel like I've accomplished something of which I can - and Should - feel proud. I've written a lot this year!

Now l'm asking all of you who feel like you've "not done enough work in 2020" to reassess the way you're looking at it all, and to see that:

Productivity shouldn't define how much you feel you're worth, no matter how productive you've been. Please don't fall into the capitalist trap of thinking you're only "doing the right thing" if you're working! You're worth a huge amount and you deserve to be proud of yourself!

You've achieved a lot more than you first thought, whether in the projects you've finished, the number of words you're written, the ideas you've had, the research and planning you've done, the time you've put in, the skills you've honed... OR THE FUN YOU'VE HAD! It all counts, and it's all important, and you can be proud of all of it, just like you can be proud of yourself.

If you don't feel like you've done enough, find a new angle from which to look at what you have done. I'm willing to bet someone out there can see how brilliantly you're doing already. Try to see yourself through that someone's eyes!

[chaoticgeminate]

Plagg’s Intervention

After the AMAZING response to Exposed I wanted to thank you guys somehow for the likes and reblogs and follows. Seriously, I’m super touched and each new like makes me super giddy. So I decided to write a tale of one of my favorite Kwami, our very own Cat-Dad, Plagg!

This is mostly just fluff, like there’s maybe a dash of salt aimed at Lila (because why wouldn’t I?) but it goes right back to that sweet fluffy goodness.

[AO3]

Plagg knew the other Kwami were using their powers to help Marinette survive the stress of her day, he couldn't miss the way she began showing up to class on time every day looking better rested than she had since he'd first seen her, or the way she was able to disappear in a crowd easier when things got dicey. He had once been envious of the others for having helpful powers, things like shields and illusions and altering time.

But he long-since figured out that Destruction had a place, there were things he could do if he practiced his control again, Tikki confirmed his suspicions on a day Longg was there; the class was allowed to study outside because of how conveniently nice the weather was, not a hard line of spots to connect to the Dragon. "I think it is time we have the two of them finally do a reveal, Plagg, if not for Marinette then most definitely for Adrien." Tikki and Longg both looked firm on the idea, it meant they had argued with the other Kwami about it already.

Truthfully, he wasn't against it, his Kitten could finally stop pining after the Bug and get real love in his life; but Plagg didn't think they were ready, in fact, he knew they weren’t ready. "Trust me, Sugar Cube, I would love for the kid to be done pining and writing flowery poems for the Bug. They aren't ready for it, think about how often those supposed friends made these elaborate schemes to push them together, as well as how Marinette handled those times, it's just like that and this is something they have to do on their own." He felt odd being the one to defend Marinette's sanity here but Plagg knew his kid, Adrien's shitty relationship with his dad and lack of a social life made him clingy to what he did have, once the reveal went down the Bug would never have a moment Adrien wasn't trying to be glued to her side.

Tikki hesitated but nodded and even Longg looked like he was reconsidering. "I get it, you want her to be happy and have someone she can talk to about the Box and us, it'd be nice for the kid to be included and all but he's going to jump right to romance and she isn't ready to see Chat Noir and Adrien as the same person." Which would cause a problem in their partnership, make one or both of them a target for Hawkmoth, and ruin any chance at them being happy. "We can nudge them along and plant the seeds to start a reveal, casual comments or pointing out similarities, but we have to let them do it on their own." Tikki's eyes softened and Plagg purred as the duo of red Kwami curled around him, he wanted nothing more than to nap with the others in the Miracle Box once they had Nooroo and Duusu back.

But they had to be patient.

Once lessons were called back to the classroom, with Adrien holding the door for Marinette as the young heroine tried to avoid his gaze, Plagg knew he'd have to do something to get Adrien not prioritize romance over friendships and himself.

He had a bit of a chance to start something when they got back after classes, once fencing and basketball practice were over, Plagg jumped at the chance as his Kitten waxed poetic about the equally socially awkward fencer. "Kid, is Kagami the type of person who will accept being second?" Plagg earned a look of surprise, the ramble about the fencing form pausing, but the Kwami was relieved to see his kid shake his head. At least he understood her well enough, Plagg supposed, it was a decent sign there; a shame he couldn't be as observant where Marinette was concerned.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, but I think you need to hear this, try not to be upset or angry as a reflex." Adrien blinked again and turned in his seat, Plagg had to admit that it was sweet when Adrien gave his full attention to whomever was speaking to him, the only time it failed before was when the kid was too wrapped up dreaming about his lovebug. "Creation has to win, if something happens to the Bug it's over, you know this and I know this; that's what the Black Cat is for, your Bug can't conjure a weapon so we have to be her weapon." Adrien nodded and Plagg knew his kid knew this, it was why Adrien got himself tangled up in all sorts of insane situations.

Luckily for him, though it was a bit annoying too, Adrien was raised not to interrupt. "Sword girl doesn't like coming in second, she's too proud and stubborn to accept defeat, but as long as you're the Black Cat you cannot pick anyone over the Bug at all. Ever." Plagg hated doing this to his kid, really he did, Adrien deserved a taste of happiness. "I don't mean chase after the Bug with flowers again, Lord knows she'd punch you worse than she did your cousin, but what would Sword Girl say if an akuma was attacking across the city while you're on a date and you had to ditch? She knows your schedule, her Mother is your father's associate, you can't use your pops as an excuse to get away from her." Understanding flickered in Adrien's eyes, which lowered as he looked at his hands, Plagg sighed and landed on his Kitten's lap.

He hated having to be responsible. "You have choices, you always have choices, but I can't make them for you and I don't want you to put off choosing and lose those choices. If you want to pursue sword girl's heart, kid, you need to ask Ladybug to give you a different Miraculous to use and let her choose a new Black Cat; the Bug has way more on her shoulders now that she's also protecting the Miracle Box, she can't afford to have a Black Cat that can't put her first. If you had a Zodiac or one of the Wu Xing then you could skip a few fights to keep sword girl happy." Adrien scooped him up and Plagg sighed as the kid's eyes glistened with unshed tears, the Kwami rubbed his face against Adrien's and purred to try and calm him down.

Tikki would slaughter him if his Kitten got akumatized over this. "But it wouldn't be you, Plagg. I don't just like being Chat Noir because I get to partner with Ladybug or get away from this place when it's too lonely, you're important to me too." Plagg purred louder and his tail wrapped around Adrien's finger as he laid there in his Kitten's hands.

"What I suggest, kid, is that you stop pursuing romance completely and focus on your friends and yourself. In three years you'll be able to leave and live on your own, right? Do you even know what your hobbies are outside of what's on your schedule? What's Marinette's favorite place to get coffee? Where does Alya go when she's frustrated with her siblings? What kind of food does Nino like to eat? You don't know any of that stuff because you aren't asking, you're focusing so hard on romance like your anime that you aren't developing the same solid friendships those characters have." Plagg earned wide eyes and a slightly open mouth, wanting to argue no doubt, but then his Kitten seemed to think and nodded.

Adrien's voice was sad but steady. "You're right, Plagg, and for all I know I could find someone else later that makes me feel different than both of them and find out that's really love." Plagg nodded and earned an extra wedge of Camembert, watching his Kitten take a breath before calling Kagami, it was an easy conversation too.

"I think we should try and learn more about having friends before pursuing romance, since we're both so new to both things."

"Are you certain this isn't about the other girl?"

"No, I just want to learn more about myself and I know I'm not ready to put you first like you deserve if we became a steady couple."

"Thank you for your honesty, Adrien, I'll have to beat you in our next training for not saying something sooner."

"I'm saying it now, Kagami, but thank you for understanding."

"Thank you for caring for me enough that you're preventing me from being hurt, Adrien. Good night."

"Night."

Plagg spent the night curled up purring in Adrien's hair as his Kitten began trying to find things he liked, learning about himself and who he was outside of the perfect son his Father wanted him to be, it was a start and Plagg was glad his Kid had listened.

"I'm sort of mad you never said anything sooner, you Stinky cat, but I think it was for the best."

Plagg curled around Tikki as she snuggled closer to him, their holders were on the roof of Ivan's apartment building with a massive projector screen to watch a movie with their friends, now that they weren't focusing on romance the pair of teens began to flourish in and out of the suits. To the point that Marinette had confessed her crush and told Adrien she wanted to focus on herself for a little while, but that she felt the need to apologize for not seeing him and instead seeing what his Father wanted people to see, which led to Adrien openly paying more attention to Marinette.

Really, the Kwami couldn't ask for more from his kid if he tried, over the past several months they had become good friends and Adrien was finally able to see just how bad his relationship with his Father actually was for him. His kid had even shut Lila down in front of the class, when she tried to force him to study with her again, by telling her that if she needed more help that she would need to find a designated tutor and that he wouldn't fall behind trying to help her play catch-up again. The others had gotten upset with him and Marinette, who defended his right to prioritizing his own grades, before Adrien reminded Lila in front of them how she lied to Nathalie and the Gorilla to get into his house and forced a kiss on him he didn't want.

Adding to the School Board intervening, since Marinette had finally gone to her parents about Chloe's bullying and using her Father as well as why Lila targeted her and used her Mother's status as a diplomat to keep the Principal from questioning her, Plagg was a content cat knowing Lila had been caught for felony level truancy and forced back to her real home in the coastal area of France with her Mother. Bustier had been suspended along with Damocles, the kids now had a teacher named Baxter Kennedy, bullying seminars were required too. "Me too, this is nice." Along with bullying seminars there were meetings with therapists, public awareness of how words and actions could be misinterpreted, with Alya spearheading a campaign to be kinder while Hawkmoth was on the loose.

Which actually isolated and created a suspicion Plagg wished wasn't looking truer, the most recent string of akuma were all people pissed off at one Gabriel Agreste, for all the good people were doing to help others he was getting worse and it would make sense if he was Hawkmoth. Like Marinette theorized before, rather, with Mayura only able to be Nathalie if that were the case. "Sugar Cube, if it is him then we're going to need a reveal first, my Kitten can't take that hit without being one-hundred percent sure he's got people in his corner." Tikki hummed and Plagg found himself miserable as he looked down to where Adrien offered his side to Marinette, the latter huddled and cold despite her fleece pajamas, the weather was getting colder and soon Marinette would start to slow down.

Holders developed traits the stronger the bond with their Kwami was and Marinette was very deeply bound to Tikki, the pair would slow down and be weaker, while it meant their powers would be much stronger and be able to be used more often without needing a recharge... it meant in the late fall and winter that the Bug would be at severe risk.

They needed a reveal yesterday.

But first his Kitten needed to know just how dangerous the coming season would be, since Hawkmoth had a very poor bond with Nooroo the Butterfly wouldn't be weakened, the Bug would need to do unity transformations to not possibly drop out in fights. "What'cha doin’ there, kid?" That night Plagg noticed Adrien deeply concentrating on his computer screen, pink wool yarn and knitting needles in hand, frowning at the attempt of whatever he was doing.

Adrien hummed without much thought. "Marinette was really cold tonight, I'm trying to make her a shawl so she can wear it over pajamas and stuff." Plagg's purr rumbled as pride burned in his chest at the kid, talk about a change of character, the Kwami hummed as his Kitten frowned at a bad segment and tugged the yarn back through to fix it before Plagg hovered down.

"Like this, kid." It was an easy pattern, smart for a first-time knitter, the motions became easier for Adrien once Plagg helped guide him. A look of warm surprise made the Kwami huff, feigning hurt at the look even as he puffed his chest, stupid Kitten and his new observant ways. "I know a lot more than you think, Kid, there's a lot of years I spend in the Miracle Box with the other Kwami and the Guardians sometimes give us new things to do every so many decades. Add to the number of Chat Noir that I've worked with? I'm a cat of many talents." It piqued the curious little part of his Kitten that was hidden behind the polite facade, just what Plagg wanted.

Adrien didn't let it distract him from his task though. "Do you miss them, the other Kwami?" Plagg shrugged as his eyes scanned the pattern on Adrien's computer screen, this was something his Father would have been great for, leave it to Gabriel to allow a God of Destruction to raise his son and teach him how to knit.

"Sometimes. I shouldn't tell you this, kid, but there are nights I fly over to Ladybug's place to check in on her and Tikki. She doesn't know who you are, before you ask, but her bond with Tikki is strong enough she's adopting bug traits. Tikki warned me that they're both getting slow, the colder it gets their bodies want them to hibernate. If she gets too cold, she'll go to sleep and won't be able to wake up until her body thinks it's spring." Adrien started in alarm and Plagg watched the trembling in his hands, setting his attempted shawl aside to avoid stabbing himself.

He grabbed his phone and opened the app that the pair agreed to download, to message outside the suits and come up with plans to catch the Butterfly. "I don't suppose we can just bundle her up in a thick coat, huh? There really isn't any avoiding a reveal, is there?" Plagg watched his Kitten sigh, tapping out an answering message, the Kwami hovered to see what was on the screen.

The Bug was reluctant but willing, only asking that he lower his expectations when he found out who she was, Plagg really wanted to know where the confidence was that he knew Marinette had. Just what happened to make her think so little of herself where Chat Noir was concerned?

Tikki cuddled close to him and Plagg huffed as Orikko caged him in on his other side, each kid wearing as many Miraculous as they could, the reveal hadn't gone sideways at all; with their much stronger friendship in place it only led them to crying about 'it's you' and 'I knew I was right' before they threw on their warmest pajamas and played video games until Adrien had to sneak back into his room.

But these nights were his favorite, when Plagg was surrounded by the other Kwami and his Kitten was cuddled in bed with the Bug, nights where Adrien and Marinette could laugh softly as they recounted all the events they'd experienced and all the things Marinette was going through as Guardian. "Bug?" Adrien's voice was soft and Marinette hummed as she curled closer to him.

"Mm?"

Plagg almost laughed at the sleepy response. "You know you were the girl I was chasing after, right? Even if I didn't know it was you?" Tikki perked up at this, the nosy Creation Kwami was a sucker for romance and Plagg didn't miss the way the rest of the Kwami were suddenly awake either.

Marinette spun around to face Adrien now with a faint blush on her cheeks. "Y-yea, I figured that much when the masks came off, I didn't know your name but I knew you loved me." Adrien's face turned a very Ladybug shade of red, enough that the Bug's nerves seemed to face a little. "Chat?" Her voice wavered.

"Mm?"

This made Roarr snicker, muffled by the other Kwami, the strangled whimper of a reply was enough for Plagg to groan softly. "Dammit kid, all you had to do was stay cool for ten minutes." He wanted to bang his head on the floor, how was Adrien so damn confident and smooth as Chat Noir and then a fumbling mess as Adrien Agreste?

Marinette's little chirp of laughter faded to a sigh. "You know I liked Adrien, I told you this, you know that's why I refused your advances as Chat Noir... right?" The revelation hadn't seemed to strike, as Adrien had definitely come to value his friendship with Marinette, until he was reminded of her confession and apology as well as her desire to find herself.

The blush brightened but his voice was smooth as silk when he did manage to reply. "Have you- have you found Marinette yet, my Lady? Is it too late to ask that you give me a chance?" He had taken her hand now and his hopes were laid in front of him, Adrien was vulnerable and at her mercy.

"Always the cat chasing the bug, why isn't it ever the other way around?" The playful jab from Trixx was silenced by Ziggy as she shushed the Fox.

Tikki, the traitor, let out a soft chortle. “My bugs are above all that nonsense, Trixx.” Plagg leveled her a look and met her twinkling eyes with his, he knew all about how hard Marinette had drooled for his kid.

Marinette made a soft sound, a breathy little noise, before speaking up again. "I think I have, Chaton, and I'd love to take on the world with you."

Plagg purred noisily as the kids shared their first kiss (the first one his Kitten remembered), Tikki swooning happily, but they all forgot one detail and that was just how Xuppu acted for moments just like this. The monkey erupted from the pile, sending them all tumbling, with a wail of delight as he zoomed in to cheer around the new couple with squeaks of delight.

"This calls for a party!"

Plagg groaned and Tikki laughed as the other Kwami perked up. "Party?! Let's have a party! Can we please, Miss Marinette?!" The Black Cat hissed when someone tugged his tail.

"No! No parties! Marinette's parents are downstairs and we can't be too loud, take the other Miraculous off before you two get caught." Plagg stomped his foot and glared at the now alarmed, happy, and just confused couple. "I did not put all this work into being the responsible one for them to screw it all up!" Adrien chuckled and reached out, bringing Plagg close to press their foreheads together.

Marinette had Kwami hovering around her. "Thank you, Plagg, for looking out for us. How about we celebrate this weekend? My parents are going to China for a week to visit Nainai Cheng and the rest of Maman's family, they want me to stay for school." It wasn't like she couldn't just keep Kaalki with her and portal back if she had to, after all, but she did have class and couldn't miss too many lessons thanks to how many the class missed as a whole from akuma attacks.

"Yay! Weekend party!"

"Marinette? What's all that noise?"

'Nothing Maman, just a video Alya sent me, I didn't think it was that loud!"

"Get some sleep, it's late, you do have class in the morning. I love you."

"Love you too, Maman, see you in the morning."

Adrien took that as his sign to begin removing Miraculous and put them away, Marinette following him until only Plagg and Tikki remained. "That was close, next time don't have Xuppu out if something good happens?" Adrien's remark made her giggle.

They shared one more kiss before Plagg was drawn into the ring so his Kitten could get back home safe. As they got ready for sleep the Kwami hummed at the soft touch of Adrien rubbing his head. "Thank you, Plagg." Two sets of green eyes met.

"Sure, kid."

There was one more hurdle to jump but this time Adrien had support and love, Plagg wouldn't hesitate to gut Gabriel if the man tried anything with his kitten.