#wrote half of this last night & then finished in the Morning bcs I got to tired but AAAHH

[rainypebble07]

Just finished the story ♡

I'm so glad Mike figured his shit out, and just in time. A shame Will got caught in the crossfire of his denial bubble implosing. It's hopefully the last time that poor boy gets pushed to the ground.

Kinda wondering obsessively about the behind the scenes here. How did Mike react to the lost of half of Will's paintings? Did everything eventually get replaced? How was Will during the months before the shops were combined? It was implied that Mike helped him through something by being his rock.

I'm sorry, i know thats a lot of questions I'm probably being annoying lmao

Spoilers for my fic, It Wasn't A Bad Thing (Rewritten) ahead! Also CW bc I kinda go into some stuff about mental health and I mention suicide in the third to last paragraph

No no no, not annoying at all! This is the kind of stuff I love talking about! Seriously!! (And if anyone's annoying it's me. Do you see how much I wrote?)

First, I'm glad you liked it! I don't often get people talking about it, so this was super nice!

Ugh, and I'm just happy everyone got to figure out their stuff in the end (even if Mike was fashionably late). I wanted to write a story where everyone had a little different problem, but they were all sort of figuring themselves out, right? Mike's figuring out his sexuality, Jane's figuring out if what she's putting people through is really worth it (And side note: it was very important to me that El had a conflict in this story too and that she wasn't necessarily in the right bc I think her role in why Mileven is a bad relationship is often overlooked in the show and I wanted her to be able to figure out that sort of thing), and Will's figuring out how to go about wanting something he thinks he can't have. And then I wanted all the conflicts to kind of clash together at the end, but then they help each other out and get the (sorta) happy ending they deserve! (Sorry about the random explanation, I do seriously love to talk about this stuff)

And your questions about everything that wasn't mentioned before the epilogue were actually really good! There was a lot that was sort of left up to imagination (and a lot still to be fixed) that happened after the big conflict and before the end, so I get it lol. Fortunately, I've thought about it before!

I like to think that all of Will's stuff was replaced. I mean, he couldn't have done half his job without it. Rest assured he was gifted a new microwave from Mike for his birthday (not an antique one, so unfortunately less colorful, but it does the same job). And speaking of Mike, he'd obviously feel really bad about the fact that all Will's stuff was ruined (I think Will would try to keep it from him, but Robin already mentioned it over the phone, so there's really no way to do that now). He'd try his best to help replace what he could because he sort of thinks it's his fault (and Will's like absolutely not, you are not replacing my things for me), but Mike would very much end up doing it anyway. And Will can't really get his paintings back, but he makes a lot of new ones!

And I think there was probably a lot to unpack after the big conflict. Like, everyone's learning to live with these new discoveries about themselves and everything that did happen that night didn't immediately go away the next morning. Will never thought very highly of himself in the first place and what Mike said would stick with him. Even though they made up by the end of the event, I think it would take a while for Mike to fully gain Will's trust again. And also the fact that Will was out on that bridge (he said he never actually planned on jumping, but obviously he was thinking about it) was probably looming not only over his own head, but Mike's too (I doubt they really shared that detail with everyone- maybe just El, but they both got some well-deserved therapy afterward). Just the overall mental state of everyone would probably not be at its best, but Mike and Will are figuring stuff out together now (and obviously El and Mike made up eventually and forgave each other, so she's in the picture too). Not to mention, Mike's not at all used to living as an openly gay man, so Will helps him adjust to that too!

After a couple months, Will would move into Mike's big-ass apartment and sell his so they have some funds for combining the shops (which was Mike's idea, but Will was completely on-board). As for still making money while construction's happening, they probably found some other place to sell some stuff (maybe even just an outside booth in a park, Will can't really give tattoos for a while, but he can do commissions!) Their friends would also try to help fund the construction. Mike's the most well-off out of all of them though, and I like to think he made amends with his family after talking to Nancy more and his parents would eventually totally support the idea of the shop (it might have taken a while for them to come around, but they would. I mean, we saw that Karen was still trying to reach out to him so there's some initiative there).

And then they open the shop and that's the epilogue and they live happily ever after the end. (And sorry I wrote so much, I had a lot a lot to say! Hopefully, it wasn't a completely useless read to you, so have a wonderful wonderful day/night/whenever)

[philtstone]

Sam & Bucky, “grabbing onto their arm”

soooo ... i watched "why didnt they ask evans?" remembered that i loved agatha christie novels and immediately landed here. obviously wave the historical accuracy away bc i did just enough research for Flavour but not much for anything else. premise: everything remains the same as canon except bucky didnt fall off the train & a whole lot of characters were born much earlier in the 1900s. this isn't technically finished yet but it's enough to justify answering the prompt; i want to try to get the latter half of this "part" done & perhaps if the fates align even write a part 2 to actually complete the story but for now have this!! if you'd like to see more pls let me know <3 thanks for the prompt zainab love u

Sam figures this is just typical. So he’d decided to go to New York – get that loan. Hell, they need that loan. Boy, don’t do it, Sarah had said, but Sam figured it was his right just as anyone else’s, and Stark talked all that talk about his new GI grant. They won’t have you, Sarah said, and like an idiot Sam went anyway. He went, and he sat himself down in that nice fancy apartment building lobby across the room from the saddest lookin’ white fella he’d seen in a while, which was saying a hell of a lot. He got up, walked over, he spoke to the nice receptionist, he wrote his name down.

Of course, he was right – they would’ve taken him. Had the paperwork done up and everything. Stark may have been a bit crazy, hell if Sam knew, but he had money to throw at things. 

Only then, the very next day, Howard Stark died. 

HEADLINE EXCLUSIVE: HOWARD STARK FOUND DEAD IN ALLEY BEHIND MANHATTAN APARTMENT

The New York Times, Monday, October 12th, 1947

Nation mourns death of eccentric millionaire inventor and war hero Howard Stark, found dead of a gunshot wound this morning in the alleyway behind his Manhattan home. With him, also dead, was socialite fiance Maria Caruso. Police have yet to identify the nature of the death but have not ruled out suicide. However, sources confirm that the firearm found at the scene was not Stark’s, but rather belonged to Stark’s comrade and fellow veteran Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes.  

The thing about Peggy is that she understands him, which is just a bitch and a half sometimes.

“You threw the weapon out.”

She’s repeating this, flatly, but with enough inflection that Bucky comprehends the are you perhaps a massive idiot implied therein. Peg would say it like that too — use perhaps and massive and arch her eyebrows.

Bucky presses his hands harder where they’re clutched at his temples and grimaces. “Look, I wasn’t thinking clearly, alright?”

“James.”

James, full name, not Jim like when she’s being chummy and of course Agent Margaret Carter of His Majesty’s Royal Service never quite got around to following Steve’s lead on the Bucky front. Bucky grimaces harder. Peggy will stare and be sardonic and, God help him suspicious until he explains.

“I dunno what you want me to say, Peg – it was there in the drawer and I couldn’t bear lookin’ at it anymore.” 

Her resultant expression is just a touch too understanding for his taste. 

“How the hell would I know that tossing a Colt into the Hudson in the middle of the night would get Howard killed?” Bucky adds, to move past it.

Minutely as possible Peggy flinches. Balls of steel, he’s always said. The other guys thought the same, but none of them had the guts to say it aloud. Speaking of other guys –

“Dugan’s coming over.”

“Like hell he is,” Bucky says.

Peggy takes an elegant drag of her cigarette. She’s sitting at the dull brown edge of his made-up bed and being careful enough that the ashes don’t spill. What difference that’ll make Bucky’s not sure. His apartment’s the definition of sad. Becca nearly cried last week when she visited, but then instead of crying yelled at him ‘til he relented and got a pillow. 

“Evidently,” says Peggy, still on the topic of Dum-Dum, “he has not considered the double agent angle. His wife made you casserole.”

“Mm,” says Bucky, grim. He walks over to his meager kitchen, pulls a dusty bottle out from the cabinet and unscrews it. “Gonna get him killed one of these days.”

“Given my ongoing conviction that you are not in fact a spy –”

“Jury’s out on you though,” Bucky says, raising the bottle at her.

“-- you do realize that you are a prime suspect in the murder of our close personal friend.” She blows out. “If we can’t rely on our comrades, we’re rather fucked.”

“I am, you mean.”

Her mouth turns mulish and she looks away to the window then back. Maybe she did mean we, lumping the two of them under the tarp of some morbid umbrella. Steve’s dead and gone and sacrificed nobly, isn’t he.

“You didn’t kill Howard and he didn’t damn well kill himself,” says Peggy, steely. “I’d like to know which bastard did.”

Bucky puts his drink down. Sighs. Crosses his arms.

“So?”

“I’ll poke around at SSR –”

“You really do think it’s a spy –”

“Stay here. Word is they don’t want this in the press just yet, which, well. Neither of us were born yesterday.” 

“You callin’ me old, Agent Carter?” he asks, just on the right edge of bratty.

Peggy steamrolls forward, “Don’t do anything untoward, please.”

“You’re the one sitting on the bed of an unmarried man,” Bucky says. He walks over to the window and tugs it open, letting cigarette smoke out and giving him an eye to the dank alley below. It’s spring and the sunlight’s pale and his room’s not too high up; were anyone to jump, they’d barely sprain an ankle. And Howard’s fucking dead. Bucky turns back and flicks a thumb under his chin. “C’mon,” he says, “gimme the rest of your cigarette. I’m the one wanted for murder.”

“Christ,” Peggy mutters, getting to her feet. 

She hands the cigarette over anyway, and Bucky spends the minute it takes her to leave wiping off the lipstick stains. It’s a lost cause, more or less. 

He has to put it out, against the peeling windowsill. 

Sam’s rung the service bell a third time when the receptionist finally appears. 

“Concierge’s assistant,” she corrects in a trill voice. Her curls are pinned tightly and her skirt waist more so. The red of her lipstick clashes garishly with her hair. Her nametag reads Dolores. “Can I help you?”

“Um, yeah,” says Sam, “Ma’am.” He grips his bag. “I'm here to inquire about my loan.”

The lobby he’s in is just as fancy as it was the first time around, with tall ceilings and crystal chandeliers and fine imported rugs on the floors. It was pretty empty last time too, quiet and genteel the way rich white people pretend to be. Only last time Sam was kept company not just by Miss Dollie’s red lipstick but the scowling, oblivious man she kept batting her lashes at; this time the place is empty. Police have roped off the elevator and even the white folks’ plush seating area is out of bounds. Dollie looks pastier than usual.

“Oh,” says Dolores, “oh. From –”

“Yesterday,” Sam says, slow and expectant.

“You’d better go home,” says Dolores.

“They took my name down,” says Sam, a second time. “I wrote it on paper and everything.”

Dolores has busied herself with some stationary thing under the desk and distractedly says, “I just don’t think dead people can give loans. It’s a shame, don’t you think? He was a real dreamboat.”

“Ma’am – Ms. Dolores –” She stops looking wistful about Stark’s erstwhile good looks and refocuses, “Now c’mon. I paid train money for this. My sister’s got two kids – our family’s business is on the line. I’d like to talk to someone.”

“I’d guess you oughta get a lawyer,” Dolores says mournfully. 

“Dollie,” Sam starts, “can I call you Dollie?” She perks up, which is inconvenient, as Sam remembers that he knows better than to flirt with a white woman. “Don’t they have some kind of insurance in place?” he asks. “His family – estate, somethin’? I mean, Howard Stark, a guy like that wouldn’t leave millions lyin’ around.”

Not that Sam knows much about men like Howard Stark. But if the police won’t bother listening to him, he’s just gotta run with his own theories.

“Jeez,” says Dollie, sniffing. “I couldn’t tell you. The whole back door’s swarming with cops. No one’s even gone through the rooms yet.” And then she says, “Oh – oh!” And bursts into tears.

Sam hovers awkwardly on the other side of the reception desk and offers her his ratty handkerchief until she has collected herself enough to wave him off with one hand and stumble away to the bathroom. Her low heels thump unevenly on the carpeted floor as she goes. He straightens the tie of his dress uniform and looks around again. He can hear voices, but far past the desk, closer to the alley door and the mail room. Hell, he’d bet even the cleaning staff have been either sent home or brought in for questioning. 

“Ain’t this just our luck,” Sam mutters. 

There’s no one around. The elevator is right there. Sam takes a deep breath and heads upstairs.

Upstairs is fancier than downstairs in the sense that Sam’s been in lobbies before but has never been in the type of suite that takes up a whole floor. The tall gilded windows look out on nearly all of Manhattan. Someone – he guesses the same police who told him to stop wasting their time, they had better things to be dealing with – has taped off the entrance to each room, but other than that, Dollie was right: it’s more or less untouched. 

Which makes sense, ‘cause there’s a whole lot to touch. Sam can barely see the bedroom (with its big four-poster bed) or the bathroom (with its marble counter) because there is stuff everywhere. There’s a painter’s easel with a feminine aura to it in the corner and paints laid out, slowly drying, and yesterday morning’s newspaper. A large cylindrical contraption moves back and forth beside the desk, over the carpet in one corner, like someone forgot it there; it emits a loud suctioning noise (Sam can see the carpet hole forming) while steaming a smoking jacket to misshapenness at the same time. The coffee machine has three levels, one each for cream, milk, and sugar; the coffee smells burned. These are not the weird things. The weird things are the three stacks of metal drawers emitting a strange humming noise, and the industrial sized ice box, and the half-deconstructed bicycle sitting on top of the desk with what looks like a freakier version of a machine gun strapped to the handlebars. It has wires and hydraulics and everything comin’ out of its ends.

“Just check the desk and leave, Sam,” Sam mutters to himself, pushing down his nerves. You’re the fool who got yourself into this, says Sarah’s voice in his head.

She ain’t wrong. 

The glossy desk is smaller than Sam expected. He checks it; two drawers with locks on them, and the third opens to a couple loose lead pencils rolling around. He supposes an important man like Howard Stark wouldn’t keep his papers sitting just anywhere. Under the desk, maybe?

Nothing. Not even a damn cardboard box. 

He straightens, hums at the locked doors. In front of him a lopsided chalkboard reads CADILLAC IN OUTER SPACE???? ASK JARVIS in giant block letters. 

“Going around wastin’ my time …” Sam mutters, picking his bag up and rubbing behind his neck. “Maybe we do need a lawyer.” 

Then he narrows his eyes. 

There.

Right there.

Someone has picked the lock. 

The first drawer sits just off its latch and the second has scuff marks under where the key goes in. “Well, shit,” he mutters. He gets back down on his knees. There is definitely a splinter, right down the middle of the second lock, like someone wrenched at it when a gentle picking didn’t do the job. “Now why the hell would he have to do that if he’s got a key?”

Sam’s habit of asking himself rhetorical questions is very suddenly put on the spot when, instead of the silence he usually anticipates, he is answered by a faint creak from the foyer beyond the study door. Sam freezes. He doesn’t think his dress uniform is enough to stop him getting arrested if anyone were to find him here now. Then again, with these locks and the general strangeness of the situation, arrest could be the safer option. Scooping up his bag, Sam slowly rises to his feet and pads softly around the desk, just barely missing the steam-cylinder and its jacket (it lets out a sad whistle), and slips a small pocket knife out from the inside of his left sock. He stalls at the doorframe, trying to breathe as quietly as he can. There’s definitely someone on the other side.

Inhaling sharply, he pounces.

“Oomph!”

“Shit!”

On instinct Sam grabs the arm that swings at him. He brings his knee up and his elbow down and there is a moment where they grapple, with strong emphasis on the moment part – very suddenly Sam finds his arm knocked out of the way and himself grabbed by beneath his chin, and slammed into the foyer wall like his cousin Deedee’s flour sack doll, so hard that all the breathe leaves his lungs in one fell swoop. His hat gets knocked off of his head with the force of it and falls to the floor.

Sam blinks. There is a scruffy, pale face in front of him, which features two big blue eyes that are blinking right back, looking equally startled.

They stay frozen like that for the space of two heartbeats. Sam’s fingers tighten where they’re fisted at the guy’s collar, refusing to yield. He’s pretty sure his knife has skidded under the shoe rack. 

He really liked that knife, dammit.

“Who the hell are you?” asks the man suddenly, both loud and Brooklyn about it.

“Funny,” wheezes Sam, “I could ask you the same thing.”

He releases Sam, which is nice of him. Stumbling, he moves a few steps back, and looks quite suddenly more bewildered than before. He’s not much taller than Sam is, with dark floppy hair that hangs over one eyebrow and a frame like a heavyweight boxer. Despite his startling strength – Sam aint exactly the smallest of men – there’s an exhaustion that sits fragile under his eyes and a tense, well-concealed tremble in one arm. There’s something very familiar about his face. His slacks have scuffs at the knees and he’s wearing a lumpy-looking knit sweater that does little to mask what Sam’s dress greens are plainly revealing to him – that whoever he’s just run headlong into, trespassing in a dead guy’s bedroom, is a fellow soldier.

Or was, anyway. No more war to fight and die in. Sam tugs at the hem of his jacket. It’ll be a pain in the ass to steam again, and Sarah will raise hell about it ‘cause he’ll beg to borrow her steamer. They don’t get all that nice starching stuff at the dive motels Sam can afford. 

“No one’s supposed to be up here,” insists the man, still looking baffled. 

Sam straightens and rubs at his jaw, which feels like it just got caught in an industrial press.

“Sorry to disappoint,” says Sam, “but I am. Why are you here?”

“I asked first,” says the man, so unselfconsciously mulish that Sam can only stare.

“I didn’t just slam me into a wall.”

“You came at me with a knife!” protests the guy, which Sam thinks is a little unfair; that knife was kind of useless. He narrows his eyes. He oughta pick his hat up from the floor, but he figures it’d be kind of stupid to let his guard down. They stand there, eye to eye, at impasse. After the weird-looking carpet cleaner has whistled three times the man says,

“You don’t look like a German spy,” muttered, like he’s really thinkin’ about it.

“Seriously?” splutters Sam. He says this so forcefully that the other guy has the nerve to look a little offended. But now, come on – come on, Sam thinks. It’s a fair question. Only Sam’s been having a really difficult forty-eight hours, so he doesn’t appreciate it.

He decides to consider the situation a bit more fairly; how does he know this crumb hasn’t been having a tough time, too? 

It’s here that something big and important feeling clicks in Sam’s head. He’s seen that scowl before – just yesterday, ignoring poor Miss Dollie.

And just this morning, in the papers plastered all over his motel lobby.

“Oh,” says Sam, “you gotta be kidding me.” 

But alas, there’s no kidding to be had. 

“From the paper – they think you killed him, man!”

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes pales three shades under what little tan he has, but otherwise doesn’t react. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says instead, a divot deepening between his thick eyebrows. “It isn’t safe.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” says Sam. “Some guy just grabbed me by the throat.”

Barnes does not seem to find this amusing. Instead, he looks a funny cross between ornery and miserable, and sets his jaw to considerable mulish effect. Sam hums to himself. Fact of the matter is, Barnes has had plenty of opportunity to kill Sam so far and hasn’t taken advantage of it. If he really was guilty – Sam thinks, briefly considering the warped mind of a cold-blooded killer, a few inches removed from the necessities of soldierhood – wouldn’t he want to get rid of any witnesses or evidence? 

And yet here Sam is, very much not dead.

“Well … you don’t look like a murderer,” he says aloud, slowly, but keeps his arms crossed. Somehow despite his sardonic tone and clear mockery (at least, that’s what Sam hopes is coming across), there is something profoundly relieved about the expression that flickers across Barnes’s face.

Then it is back to its customary scowl.

“You gotta leave,” he repeats firmly, pacing once, back and then forth. Sam watches him carefully; there’s that tremble again, along with a steady, even tone and deliberate eye to the skyline behind them. More than just Barnes’s face is familiar. 

But Sam is still annoyed.

“Through the window?”

“There’s – a stairwell.”

“Through the stairwell definitely crawling with cops?”

“For the love of God –”

“I am just listing my options, here.”

“Just leave, go away, pretend you never saw me,” Barnes says, waving two hands in front of Sam’s face like he’s batting the whole morning away, and looking harassed. “Okay? Jesus, it ain’t that hard.”

“Pretend I never saw you, creepin’ around the apartment of the fella you’re supposed to have killed,” Sam says. “Yeah, no, I’m gonna tell somebody.”

“Seriously?!” It’s Barnes’s turn to sound offensively incredulous.

“Or,” Sam says, “you could tell me what’s goin’ on.”

There’s a long pause. Sam hardly thinks his voice is friendly – if anything, he’s annoyed as hell – but Barnes opens his mouth, two beats, a sudden vulnerability stuck to his chin. Too vulnerable for whatever Sam’s asking. In that split second it sucks the breath outta the room.

Sam doesn’t have any idea what it is that’s just made Barnes’s head whip around until a bullet explodes into the lobby mirror above their heads.

“Fuck!”

Two rough hands shove him back into the study and Sam nearly knocks over the artillery bicycle; he looks up in time to see Barnes throwing his lanky frame against the opposing wall and holding his arms up over his head, yelling loudly in annoyance when another three bullets spray into the beautiful engraved wood above their heads and nearly bring down the chandelier. The coffee maker starts whistling out of control. Sam groans. 

“Gimme your gun!” demands Barnes, which is beyond unhelpful.

“I don’t have a gun,” says Sam, waving one hand in the air to demonstrate this. “Where’s your gun?”

“I threw it in the fucking Hudson!” says Barnes. He looks like a guy who’s had a very long forty-eight hours; Sam can relate. “I’ve been framed for murder, remember?”

“We actually never established that that’s the truth,” Sam feels the need to point out, a second before another bullet tears through the poor over-steamed suit jacket.

Bang.

“Common sense!” exclaims Barnes.

Bang.

“Somethin’ you don’t seem to have much of!” yells Sam.

Bang.

“THERE IS A MAN SHOOTING AT US.”

Bang.

“HOW IS THAT MY FAULT?!” 

Jiminy Christmas, says Sarah’s voice in Sam’s head. His sister is not gonna be happy about this.

They scramble for the front door as another two bullets sound off. Sam just barely has the time to reach down and grab his hat, and can just make out a slight, shadowed figure ducking back behind the wardrobe in the bedroom before they burst into the elevator lobby – right in time for the elevator door to ding open, and the tomato-red of the huffing police commissioner’s face to peek through.

Barnes has grabbed him by the arm again and pushed him into the stairwell going back downstairs before Sam has any time to react. 

And, maybe importantly, before any of the many police officers squeezing themselves out into the hallway can see him.

Huh, he thinks, a second before the other man’s bulky shoulders burst through the door in turn, knock haphazardly into Sam, and half tumble them down the staircase with a garbled, “Come on, move!” tacked right onto the end.

“Can’t run anywhere with you fallin’ on top of me!” Sam says.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!”

And for all that Sam was raised Southern Baptist, he has to agree.

[thelightsmiles]

wedesday morning

he's still asleep. i wasnt gonna get up yet. i was gonna sleep in on my weekend, like i always tell myself im gonna do bc i hate getting up early. its only 8am, and im glad im not waking up at 10 or something. i couldnt get his keyboard to work. he has this whole setup now, and i love it bc im totally gonna write more. im totally gonna make more art now.

we got a desk for the room. it reminds me of my old desk, at the house with all the memories. that was my little studio. i have so many memories in that desk. so many dark moments, too. but i like to look back at those years, i love to imagine myself back there, but i cant. its like i know i cant go back, but i just wish there was some way i could grasp it just enough to get those emotions i used to feel, to somehow be that person again for just a half of a second.

id like to think id be satisfied with half a second, but id probably hold on too tight if i found a way to do that, and never let go.

i had this little square of wood. im not sure what youd call it, what i used it for. it was my special block though, and i miss it. i miss how i used to create. so genuine and so easily. not always, but i let myself back then. i havnt let myself create like that in years.

its kinda funny, when i was 14 or 15 i would write these stories about how one day i got out of there, i escaped that stupid little town, i left and i never looked back, i created the life i wanted. in most of them, though, i just met someone and they saved me. they took me far away and i loved them forever. in most of them, if im being honest, tj came back.

he came back just like i fantasized about every night for months and then years. i dont remember when i fell out of love with him. it was longer than a year. i waited all that year, knowing he was gone but i couldnt handle it. i think i sent him an email once, and he probably didnt even log into his account, its probably sitting in there still.

id look at these pictures i had of him, and id think about how i could see us together in the future. i always thought about how hed be such an amazing dad. i wrote so many letters to him, i never sent them. i couldnt even give him that note id worked so hard on the day he left.

it took a really really long time for me to heal from that boy. and now that i dont idolize him, i cant imagine ever falling for someone that way again. i dont know how i could have, i didnt even know him. i think he was just the only boy whod ever given me some sort of hope that i wasnt unlikable.

so i did need that. i needed to learn all those lessons that taught me. i needed all those moments from that time period that ill never be able to remember.

all i know is i miss my childhood so much it hurts. id give almost anything to go back, and im not supposed to say that, bc i thought id let go of it ages ago, for the last time. i thought id accepted it was over and decided to finally live for that girl i used to be.

its kinda funny how all the little parts of our lives flow together so nicely when you look back, despite how incredibly different we were, how differnt the times were.

im still not sure when my depression was at its worst. there was one fall-summer that i wasnt there. i didnt exist. i dont remember myself.

id wake up at like 5pm and go out, id walk to the library and grab a random book, id go take my walk and sit by the water or stand on the bridge looking out at it. it was always so cold, but i dont remember being cold. i just remember the street lights, the snow, the music, the pain.

id get home and start reading, and then it would be 6am and id have finished that book, and i went to bed and cried myself to sleep, and then it would happen all over again.

[disownedbytiime]

I’ve been through an odyssey since last night regarding the fic I wanted to post.

Finally, last night I decided to revise it so I could either post it later at night or the next morning. For this one, I’m posting both an English and a Spanish version, so I revised the English one first. I did fix some mistakes but also changed several phrases bc I can never re-read anything I wrote without having to make a lot of changes (blame my Virgo stellium). Anyway, I finished when it was already pretty late.

I then realized that for the Spanish one I had two documents. Both with the same name but one with an O at the end and one with NO at the end. Naturally, I figured the right one was the one with the O. I started checking it and once again I changed a lot of things (also getting confused by differences in eng/spa punctuation in the process). Then, I got to the middle of the fic and I realize there was a mistake I had supposedly already fixed there (it was a word that I left in another language and I remember I had already corrected), so the penny dropped and I realized that this wasn’t the right document! The one I had fixed was the other one, the one with NO in the name. Why did I do that? I have no idea. At that point I had already corrected around half of the document so I continued that one until I finished and then went to sleep.

This morning/noonish I started comparing both documents in Spanish, and indeed I had corrected the other one. But technically at that point I had already corrected both, so I went through both of them to see what would be better. (In some cases I changed the same things, but in others I rephrased some things differently, so I had to make a choice.)

Meanwhile the power in my house kept going off and on all morning. I was doing this from my desktop so it fucking kept turning off. I tried to continue in my iPad but it was a bit hard bc google docs are super wonky there (the one time I decide to do it there and not on pages :’)). So anyway, I got frustrated and had to stop and wait until the power was fixed.

Now, hours later, I finally finished fixing stuff (and even went and fixed some things again in the english one) and was going to post it and forget about it, and now my mouse doesn’t have battery :’)

It feels like a joke.

[starship2011]

AAAAHHH OKAY HADESTOUR THOUGHTS IN SOMEWHAT CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER

Levi Kreis as Hermès had GREAT physicality during Road to Hell he was jumping & dancing all over the stage it was so much fun

This was the debut of Chibueze Ihuoma as Orpheus aka THE SOFTEST AND SWEETEST MOST PERFECT ORPHEUS OF ALL TIME who this post will be at least 50% freaking out over because you all need to stan him INSTANTLY okay

When Hermès introduced Orpheus, Orpheus turned to the audience with the biggest smile imaginable & started waving like crazy it was so cute

As soon as Orpheus & Eurydice bumped into each other at the end of Road to Hell he literally got the sweetest most lovestruck face imaginable & was staring at her & trying to go up & talk to her during Any Way the Wind Blows he was SO SWEET

Morgan’s Eurydice came off as a bit more aggressive & guarded than other Eurydice’s & she really put her whole body into a lot of her delivery, a lot of hand & arm acting in particular

When Orpheus says “come home with me” Hermès turns to the audience & gestures like “you see what I have to deal with”

Orpheus came off as so stiff & awkward during Come Home With Me but also SO SWEET a lot of his big movements came off as very jerky like he just had too much love in him

Eurydice played off of him so well because she was so cheeky & clearly having so much fun teasing him the “you wanna take me home” was played more comedically with her pulling back her coat to show off her figure & posing for him & Orpheus getting really flustered

Epic I was so clearly Orpheus Singing To Eurydice & he was so clearly nervous starting it & just spent the whole song staring at her with the most lovestruck expression imaginable

Persephone giving Hades a little kiss before coming down from the balcony but him being stoic & pulling away because he was angry she was leaving ❤️

Orpheus practically jumped out of skin when he started giving the toast in Living it Up on Top he was so excited

All I’ve Ever Known was delivered a lot more aggressively with Eurydice genuinely seeming so tired & angry when singing about how all she’s ever known was how to hold her own & seeming genuinely confused & unsure how to deal with her feelings for Orpheus (& ofc Orpheus was so sweet & reassuring like you could tell he couldn’t believe she actually liked him back)

Orpheus & Eurydice were just insanely cute during Way Down Hadestown with them constantly smiling at each other & him holding her just so tightly when they were laying on the front of the stage w/ the other performers singing to them they were just clearly having such a good time

Until of course the “kinda makes you wonder how it feels” at which point Hades lowers his glasses so he & Eurydice can stare at each other until Orpheus JUMPS in front of her

They couldn’t have the lowering platform so instead there was a large door in the center with a top & bottom flap which opened mechanically (you can see it briefly in the trailer). Not quite as cool as the bway version but still pretty neat

The door opened during epic ii so the workers came out & started dancing while Orpheus was singing about them

Hades & Persephone entered through the balcony for Chant I so they were still physically above the audience

Kevyn Morrow was completely captivating as Hades, didn’t go as deep as Patrick but had a very rich & slimy voice, very supervillain-y. Did get genuine chills when he turns to Eurydice on the final “for you” he just seemed like such a skeeze

Hades started Hey Little Songbird very deep like how Patrick sings it but shifted into a more comfortable measure in the second verse

Eurydice seemed completely overwhelmed for all of Hey Little Songbird/When the Chips are Down, she was very tense for both songs & did a lot of very big full body acting when she would sing, at one point in Hey Little Songbird she was singing while holding the flower before jumping & hiding it when Hades cut in

Hermès came off incredibly aggressive & mean during the opening of Wait For Me, & blew out Eurydice’s candle on the “you’ll find another muse somewhere” line

Orpheus genuinely seemed so heartbroken he sounded like he was going to cry when he said he didn’t have a ticket

Once Hermès started giving Orpheus the instructions he got super serious though

The stage was still able to open up!!

During Why We Build the Wall Hades walked up to Hermès & they kinda sized each other up while Hades smirked at him

For Eurydice’s entrance the doors opened up to reveal her in hadestown

Morgan sounded so heartbroken & angry during flowers, again really sounded like she was going to cry

If It’s True was SO POWERFUL Orpheus was full on yelling at the end

At the end of If It’s True Orpheus/Eurydice/The Workers all went behind the door, which then opened to have them all march onstage for the Chant reprise

Hades turned to the audience & smirked when saying the “the songs about me” line

EPIC!!! III!!! Someone was coughing the whole time behind me but it still slapped!! Orpheus was full on crying & got super upset at the “where is the man” part at the end, basically yelling & stomping on the ground

I cannot talk to much about what happened after that because I Will start crying, but when Orpheus turns around it was staged so that Eurydice was standing at the entrance of the door & when he turned she recoiled & jumped back so the doors could slowly close on her

Hermès was actually crying a little bit during Road to Hell reprise. Somebody’s phone went off during this point but he somehow did not break what a champ

After everyone bowed all the actors gestured to Chibueze & clapped & stomped on the stage for him!! One of the workers gave him a big hug to it was very sweet :,)

[caravelmp3]

UNDER THE CANYON MOON

pairing: josh kiszka x female!reader warning(s): mostly fluff, just brief mentions of alcohol and sex  word(s): 2k note: hi hi hi !! this is just a little something i wrote up the last couple of days with the inspiration of light my love, canyon moon by harry styles, and the interview where josh talked about road-tripping the u.s. last summer <3 i don’t write one shots often but let me know what you all think bc i might shuffle some more out soon lol. hope you all enjoy !! :) 

The Los Angeles sun was hot, beating down onto the city basking in its late-summer hues. You parked your car on the street in Silver Lake and carried a bag of food and drink tray to the door of a recording studio, more than prepared to be swarmed by hungry boys who had been cooped up in the studio since five a.m. on the dot that morning. They had a breakthrough the night before with a new song, and after getting home and going to bed for a few hours, the creative juices started flowing again and they were back in the booth. 

A windchime on the door sang as you pulled the door open and walked inside, greeting their manager who was at a table by the door. 

“The boys here?” 

“Down the hall,” he nodded, pointing a finger in the direction of the hallway. “They’re more rowdy than usual so be prepared,” 

You laughed and turned down the hall, walking towards the studio. The walls were decorated with memorabilia of rock and roll greats and record plaques, and among them, you spotted a picture of the four boys with their Grammy award. It seemed like time had passed so quickly. They won the award for the first album and they were already working on their third, shooting them further into stardom. 

“Coffee’s here!” You shouted in a really bad New England accent when you noticed the recording light was flipped off above the door. 

You stepped into the room to a chorus of cheers and “thank god you're here”’s that made you laugh while sitting the food and drinks down on the table and they all rushed over. You handed out the specific orders and pointed to which drinks was theirs when they got handsy and tried to grab everything from her out of both excitement and some desperation for caffeine. 

“Our savior,” Jake said, reaching out and grabbing your shoulders to give them a gentle shake before taking the coffee you were holding out to him, and then you handed Danny’s to him, too. 

“Just the coffee girl here,” 

“Well, you’re a little bit more than that,” Josh said, walking over to the table to grab his full cup. 

You pressed a hand against the table, leaning over to him. “Just a little?” 

“A little bit,” he shot you a wink before swiftly pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

You were more than just a “little more” than the coffee girl, you were typically their designated drunk driver, the one who took all of their candid photos, the mediator in times of need, and well, the girlfriend of the lead singer, too. 

Everyone in the studio took their food and drinks and scattered among the seating area in a break from recording. Instead of one tiny room with all of them cramped together, they had a wide open space with booths for the different instruments and bean bag chairs and big comfy, velvet sofas, and there was dim lighting with deep toned rugs that gave off the vibe of a more relaxed feel rather than the fluorescent-light, tiled-floor feeling that made them feel rushed and confined by rules they didn’t set themselves. 

You liked the studio, too, and often took naps on the sofa while listening to them play instruments individually in the recording booths and while they were writing. One night they had found you at two a.m., bundled up with a blanket on the bean bag chair after they spent the night writing in the front room on the piano, but it wasn’t the first time as you often napped in their Nashville recording offices, too. 

“You guys been busy today?” You asked jokingly while lowering onto the sofa armrest, receiving nothing but glares shot in your direction. “Okay, okay, touchy subject,” 

With a mouthful of bread, Sam pointed to Josh, “Josh finished a song, didn’t you?” He was grinning. 

You hummed in joy and surprise, grabbing Josh’s knee as he sat next to you. “Really?” 

It had been a rough few days for all of them as they tried to shuffle out a few more additions to the new album. It felt incomplete with something missing, but they couldn’t quite put their finger on what it was exactly, so they attempted to bring back and revamp old songs, write and record new ones, but nothing seemed to stick, until now. 

“Yeah, wanted to wait and show you later, but someone can’t keep his trap shut.” Josh said, pretending to be serious before cracking a smile and taking a sip of his coffee. “Just wanted it to be a surprise,” 

“Well it can still be a surprise, I’m surprised now,” you said. “Can I hear it? Or read what you got?” 

Josh nodded and stood, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him. There was a little recording room fit with a piano inside, his writing journal placed on the music stand where he had scribbled notes and keys and melodies in pen. He picked it up and handed it to you. 

“Nothing seemed to click until last night, when I started putting it together.” He said. 

“Is that why you wouldn’t tell me what it was when you all got back to the house?” 

Josh shrugged, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, yeah, I wanted it to be special when you first heard it.”

You sat the coffee cup down onto the floor while lowering into the small chair in the corner, holding the journal like it was the most delicate piece of art in the world. In silence, while Josh watched on anxiously, you read the words he had splayed across the blank page. 

     Can you light my love?      Flames glowing bright as the sun      Deeper than oceans you run      Watch as our world has begun 

     Your mind is a stream of colors      Extending beyond our sky      A land of infinite wonders      A billion lightyears from here now

You felt your throat tighten, tears tempted your eyes. 

It was a love song. 

“Josh-” 

“Oh god you hate it don’t you, you dread it, despise it,” 

“Oh shut up, I’m in tears right now, you know I love it.” You looked up at him with a smile and a sniffle. 

His words across the page were sloppy, some cursive, written in different pens of different colors, some lines crossed and scribbled out, others underlined. 

“Your mind is something I will never fully understand.” You told him as he sat down on the chair next to you. “How the fuck did you come up with this-” 

“I was thinking about our trip out here, the week we spent driving out and all of the stuff we did… and how I think I fell more in love with you.” His voice softened. 

You reached out, placing your arm on his shoulder, fingers playing with his curls. “I can’t put it into words how much I love it, how much I love you,” you said, “and you make me sound so lovely when in reality I know I was a pain in the ass that entire trip.” 

“Yeah, but my pain in the ass,” he kissed the inside of your arm. 

Two weeks before the boys left Nashville to head to Los Angeles, Josh called you at midnight with an idea in mind – the two of you renting a camper to drive out to L.A., falling into all of the tourist traps along the way and stopping in random small towns to sleep while exploring the in between, which would definitely beat the boring four-hour flight. And you, half asleep and across the country, agreed. 

It would be fun. Right? 

And it was. Every time someone asked how it went, you called it “the most magical week of my life.” 

While the others waited behind for their flights the next week, you and Josh set off from Nashville, heading west with only the destination in mind and a trusty map in hand. Everything else just came to you both. 

The first stop was three hours in the trip, in Memphis. You and Josh roamed Graceland on Elvis Presley Boulevard and had lunch near Sun Studio before taking in the mementos and relics at the Blues Hall of Fame where Josh talked your ear off, rattling off more details about each band and singer than was on the info-cards on the wall. 

Then it was two hours to Little Rock, falling asleep in the back of the camper after a take-out dinner outside of a random supermarket. Sitting in lawn chairs in the middle of a parking lot, you held Josh’s hand under a blanket and watched the pink sunrise over the hills, and then it was back on the road again. 

From Oklahoma City to Amarillo, you fiddled with the map when Josh got lost after a wrong turn in a small town where he insisted on seeing the giant 66-foot LED soda bottle sculpture, and in the middle of northern Texas, he made it up to you by cooking your favorite dinner. You thanked him in a quiet whisper as you crawled into the bed with him that night, sliding under the covers where he greeted you with warm hands and kisses against your neck that made you squeal with the tickle of his mustache and he grinned against your lips. 

Josh got to choose the music all the way through New Mexico – Neil Young and Crazy Horse to John Denver’s Thank God I’m A Country Boy, and you were only able to squeeze in Joan Baez every hour when you stopped to stretch your legs on the side of the road, belting the words to him while he laughed at your voice cracks. 

And after you both pitched the tent in the Petrified Forest in Arizona, Josh hummed the tune to some new song while you two sat under the midnight stars in the canyon with a roaring fire, his arm around you, his sweatshirt draped over your shoulders. When he tried to start telling you a scary story after you heard a weird noise outside the tent, you blindly hit him in the dark and accidentally hit his nose, causing you both to burst into laughter after the initial panic left. He laughed loudly into your shoulder as you held his face in shock, catching the scent of your lavender lotion, and his body relaxed when the laughter died down, feeling so at peace in his life with you there. 

It was the tail end of the trip, but the excitement hadn’t died down yet. After showers in the camper in the middle-of-nowhere-Arizona and five hours west, you and Josh found a bar outside of Las Vegas that resembled Coyote Ugly, so you both had a round of tequila sodas and margaritas before walking around the small town that evening and sleeping off the tipsy-headaches in the air conditioning. On top of the covers, you looked at Josh napping in the sunshine, cheeks flushed red, curls poofy from the wind, and you felt your heart grow in your chest before falling asleep next to him. 

And then came Los Angeles, the final stop, the dreaded one. But you and Josh didn’t tell anyone that either of you were sad to be back with them in L.A. when they asked, and instead, you two smiled and hugged everyone after piling out of the camper in the drive-way of the Silver Lake house. 

Cleaning out the camper, tossing cheesy novelty t-shirts at each other and laughing at how many socks you two managed to lose along the way and how many bug bites were added, watching the developed clips Josh had filmed of scenes in the desert and you asleep in the passenger seat, you both were nostalgic about a trip that just ended. 

It was so easy, so freeing to just be together on the road, with only the destination in mind. It revealed a part of them that the other didn’t see often, like your tendencies to get your lefts and rights mixed up while giving directions, and Josh’s equally awful sense of direction didn’t exactly pair with the fact that he was a maniac while driving in the first place. 

But those parts were just added to the long list of why you and him loved each other in the first place. So you became the designated driver after Amarillo and Josh stuck to telling you “left or right” for the rest of the time. It was a compromise, another reason why you two worked so well together. 

It was a form of love in itself. 

“We’ll have to drive all the way back to Nashville then, so you can write more songs about me.” You teased. 

Josh rolled his eyes but cracked into a grin a second later. “Let’s not get too carried away,” but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t always mentally reliving the night under the canyon moon.

[manonblaqkbeak]

Midnight Cravings

so, i actually wrote most of this in july but never finished it and decided to fix it up for todays prompt bc i was feeling a lil lazy lol. and i think its one of my faves, especially the ending.

2.2k words

cw: none

enjoy!! :)

It was just past two in the morning and Aelin was wide awake. Not due to a mountain of paperwork, or a nightmare or one of her kids needing her. Aelin was wide awake because she was absolutely starving.

The type of starving it felt like she'd never eaten a day in her life. Like her stomach was going to eat itself.

Her stomach growled again, louder than before, and beside her, his voice muffled, Rowan asked, “Is that your stomach or the wind outside?”

“Shut up,” Aelin mumbled, as her stomach continued its song. Gods, why was she so hungry? She practically devoured the fruits in the fruit bowl just before bed, she had a healthy serving of dinner, and a large slice of chocolate torte for dessert.

But here she was, close to eating her damned pillow to sate her starvation.

Aelin glanced over towards her mate, his back to her, and she shuffled closer, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Rowan,” she started to say, but Rowan cut her off.

“I'm not going to the kitchens.”

She pouted, although he couldn't see her. “Please?” she knew that if she used her manners, then he would do just about anything.

But it didn't work. Not just yet. “There's some fruit in the bowl.”

“I ate them all.” He sighed heavily, knowing that he was losing this conversation. “Please? I am your mate, your wife, the mother of your children.”

Rowan snorted. “Really? I was starting to suspect that the three silver-haired children were Lorcan's.”

Her hunger nearly disappeared at the thought of that. “Don't be gross.” Reaching over, Aelin kissed the tip of his ear, smiling as he shuddered in pleasure as she nibbled on it. “Please?”

Rowan sighed heavily, knowing that he lost, and Aelin barely hid her smile. “I'll go,” he said. “But only if you join me.”

Her smile did disappear at that. “But the bed is so warm.”

“Exactly. If I have to leave it, so do you.”

“Fine,” she mumbled reluctantly, but quickly perked up, realising that she would be getting food. Rowan was a much better cook than her. Aelin used to have basic cooking skills, but with being Queen and then becoming a mother, she never cooked anymore and really had no need to; not with multiple cooks under the palace roof. She did try a few years ago as a treat for her family, but everything turned into a crisp and wasn't even suitable for the dogs in the kennels.

Scrambling out of bed, the Queen and King of Terrasen tied on their robes and put on their slippers. Aelin loved the sight of Rowan looking so domestic, it was ridiculous how much she loved it.

Since Isolde was only six months old and far too young to be left behind, Rowan put her in the wooden carrier to take with them into the kitchens, their movements silent as the grave as they transferred their youngest from her crib and into the crafty carrier—Isolde was the only one of their children that slept soundlessly through the night at such a young age, and loathed to be woken up. As Rowan did that, Aelin checked in on Alder in his room, their son a little over three years old, but he slept like a log and Aelin knew that he wouldn't wake up at any point when they were gone.

As they left their chambers, Aelin nearly ruined all their good work and almost woke up their other children when she bit out a curse at the sudden leg cramp that shot up her right calf. Rowan glanced at her, asking if she was okay, and after a moment she was, although she was left a little dazed at the suddenness of it all.

Aelin's legs had been cramping randomly of late, but she didn't notice anything of concern. If it continued, she would go to Magnolia and see if anything could be done about it. The last thing Aelin needed was to fall ill, she had far too many things to do with winter arriving in a few weeks. She did know that if anything was wrong with her, that she could rely on Rowan completely.

Aelin's stomach growled for the umpteenth time, the sound lasting for a good minute before it settled. Isolde fidgeted in her sleep, but did not wake.

“I think your stomach was just trying to talk to me.”

“It was,” Aelin agreed. “It said that we need to hurry the hell up or it's going to disintegrate.”

“We better do as it says then. It'd be cruel to subject Terrasen to a hungry Queen. No one should suffer as I do when you're starving.”

“You make me sound horrible.”

“You are,” he said, humour dancing in his dark eyes. “And not just when you're hungry.”

Aelin mumbled under her breath. Rowan decided to pretend not to hear her, even as he fought a smile.

After what felt like an eternity, they reached the kitchens, Rowan placing Isolde onto the counter closest to them. Aelin rushed towards the bowls of fruit, grabbing an apple and a pear, eating the fruits simultaneously. She missed the small, private smile Rowan gave her as he went to the pantry, asking her what she was in the mood for, one eye on their child. But still, she slept and Rowan for a moment, wished that all of their children had been like that, but knew that there was no point in complaining when they all slept quietly now.

“Something filling,” was all Aelin could think of to say. But after a moment decided on an omelette, filled with bacon, mushrooms, onion, red bell-peppers and carrot. As she and Rowan prepped the ingredients—with Rowan wanting his own omelette—Aelin contemplated in silence, her brows furrowed as she chopped up the carrots.

“What are you thinking about, Fireheart?” Rowan asked when he noticed his wife's expression.

“Just trying to remember the last time I was this hungry. I've been like this for at least a week and a half.”

“I've noticed. You haven't had this big of an appetite for a good number of years.”

She didn't comment on that, lost in her own world. “And my legs have been cramping lately too. I haven't injured myself. Have I been sleeping in strange positions?”

“No, you're sleeping just fine.”

Her frown deepened. “Maybe I'm just stressed for the winter preparations.”

“Possibly, I know that you worry a lot for the people during winter.” They both did, as the winters in Terrasen were brutal. Each year there was always a small number of people that passed due to the cold for a number of reasons. When those lists made their way in Aelin's hands, it always hit her hard, her guilt a palpable thing, even after Rowan would tell her that it was in no way her fault.

But that wasn't the reasons for her consuming hunger and leg cramps—Rowan had noticed the change in her scent weeks ago and when he noticed, he thought that Aelin would too. But she was completely oblivious and he didn't want to spoil the surprise, although it was getting harder each day not to say something.

However, he couldn't help but count back the weeks to the day of conception. He was fairly certain that it was when Aelin had been reading a particularly steamy novel on the window seat in their sitting room and jumped on him like they had never had sex before when he had come to ask if she was joining him in bed.

It would fit in with list of unusual places they have conceived their children. Elentiya had been in the library (either in the archives or in Aelin and Rowan's private nook, neither were sure), Norrin against an oak tree (which they discovered after they have calmed down that the Little Folk had watched the entire encounter, with Aelin becoming stuck between wanting to laugh or hide under a rock), Alder against one of the many palace chimneys, and Isolde in a linen closet.

Maybe one day they would conceive a child in their bed like most people did.

They got to cooking, with Rowan standing behind Aelin and guiding her with the wooden spoon and plating their midnight meal before it burned into a crisp. Isolde babbled in her sleep as the sounds of cooking reached her, but still slept. It wouldn't be long, however, until she woke up to be fed. Aelin placed their youngest by her feet as they sat down at the small dining table in the far corner of the kitchen where the workers took their breaks.

The smile on Aelin's face as she bit into the fluffy omelette was certainly worth being woken up in the middle of the night.

However, her fork stilled in mid-air when she was halfway done when realisation dawned on her.

Finally.

“I'm pregnant,” was all she said, her Ashryver eyes growing wide. Rowan didn't bother to hide his smile. This was why he didn't say anything. It was always worth it when she revealed those beautiful words to him. “Rowan, I'm pregnant. The last time I was this hungry was when I was pregnant with Alder and the leg cramps are from Norrin's pregnancy. And all the fruit I can't stop eating is just like when I was pregnant with Isolde. How haven't I noticed anything?”

“You've been busy,” Rowan said, reaching over to take her hands in his and kissed her fingers.

“You knew, didn't you?” Aelin asked, her eyes narrowed just slightly.

“I may have noticed.”

“You should have told me.”

“I like it better when you come to the realisation yourself,” he said simply.

Aelin shot out of her seat and sat on his lap, a pretty smile gracing her face as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her fingers playing the the hair at the nape of his neck. Rowan wound his arms around her waist and kissed her on the cheeks, the tips of her nose, the corner of her lips and then her mouth.

Aelin hummed contentedly and kissed him back. When they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his.

“We're insane.”

Rowan laughed deeply at the sudden statement. “What makes you say that?”

“We're having a fifth baby. Lorcan and Elide only have three and I always thought that they'd have at least a dozen, but they don't and we're about to have five. That's insane. We're insane.”

“We are, but I like that about us,” he said, kissing her again. Her face was open and soft, her eyes dancing with happiness, but he still found himself asking, “Are you okay with it?”

“Of course I am, buzzard. More than words can say.” Aelin kissed him to emphasise that fact, his hand reaching down onto her belly and was content to stay like that forever. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was. She always thought that she’d just have one child, maybe two, but to have five was something she never dreamed of.

Isolde finally decided to wake up and scream her displeasure at being hungry. Aelin was off him in an instant, cooing at their daughter as Aelin sat back in her seat and fed not just herself, but Isolde at the same time. His mate was spectacular at multitasking like that.

They couldn't wait to meet their fifth child.

X X X X X X

Rowan was surprised that his children hadn't kicked down the doors to the bedchamber with how excited they were. Even little Isolde was a ball of energy and she was by far their most quiet child. Rowan lead them to their mother, reminding them that they had to be quiet and gentle, because mama had just gone through a long process of bringing in their new sibling into the world.

They entered the bedchamber and Aelin greeted them with a tired but loving smile telling them to come meet their new sister, the kids went onto the bed, surrounding Aelin and the baby, happiness and wonderment in their eyes as they took in the little bundle of joy, her silver hair stark against her lightly tanned skin. She had opened her eyes briefly during her first feeding and Aelin had groaned playfully when she spotted that they were pine-green, muttering how of course I labour for a whole day to give birth to another you. But he knew that she didn't care if she was born with green hair and yellow eyes, Aelin loved her immensely.

“What's her name, mama?” Elentiya asked softly, carefully trailing a finger down her sisters cheek.

“Elowynn-Yrene.” Rowan would never forget the pure joy in Yrene's eyes when Aelin asked if the healer would give them her blessing to grace their child with her name, as a thank you for all the years of coming down and helping Aelin, for eradicating Erawan, and for being a great friend to both of them. It had taken them a few minutes to convince their friend, citing that the honour was far too much, but Yrene eventually said "yes".

“That's pretty,” Alder supplied, a wide smile on his face. Aelin kissed his temple and thanked him for his kind words.

Aelin moved her eyes from Alder to Rowan, smiling as her mate stood there, taking them in.

His family, their family. Never did he think he would be so blessed to have this.

His and Aelin's children; the most beautiful thing Rowan had ever seen.

Rowan went and joined his family on the bed, the smile on his face one of Aelin's favourites.

[harrywritingsbyme]

Hi would you mind writing a short lil something about Harry and Reader turning bubs‘ room into a big boy room and getting kind of emotional getting rid/storing away all his baby stuff? That last ask was so cute 🥺

Growing Up

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: So I just wanted to write something. So I wrote some dad!Harry fluff for y’all bc this concept was too cute and I just loved it so much. It’s just a little blurb, that kinda gives me a head cannon type of vibe for some reason...so I hope it doesn’t suck lmao! enjoy🥺🥰

Your little boy was growing up so fast. It was almost as if you had blinked and the time just passed you both by. You and Harry could vividly remember the day you two found out that you were expecting, when bubs was just a tiny bean in your stomach. The both of you were beyond happy in that moment. You were gleefully jumping around the bedroom and you two let the joy filled tears from the amazing news flow from your eyes as you celebrated this monumental moment in you guys’ family and life together. 

Over the course of the nine or so months following that day, you and Harry happily watched as your baby boy (and you for that matter) grew. You and Harry got to see your baby at your scheduled ultrasounds and you watched him transform from a little dot on the screen to a fully formed baby with ten fingers and toes along with a miniature version of Harry’s nose. The two of you felt bubs growing too. When you felt yourself getting bigger, your son was getting bigger as well. Along with the increase in the amount of weight forming in your midsection, you could feel your son moving around too. As you became farther along in your pregnancy, you could feel your baby boy moving around in your stomach more and more. There were so many times where bubs would move around and kick you, to which you’d let out a sharp wince and Harry would softly yet “sternly” reprimand his son letting him know that it wasn’t nice to kick his mommy. But even though you could definitely go without a swift kick to your ribs, you couldn’t stop the little smile from spreading across your face once you got over the initial pain of it all. You were so happy to feel that your baby boy was growing and healthy, and you were beyond excited to see him. 

Along with a couple of very memorable days throughout your pregnancy, and the day you found out that you were expecting, the day you finally gave birth was definitely a day that would always remain clear at the forefront of you and Harry’s minds. After an epidural(that was hardly effective in your opinion), hours upon hours of being in labor, a lot of tears, and some strong screams at Harry, the two of you finally welcomed your baby boy into the world. He was absolutely perfect and everything you and Harry had envisioned. Even though he was much bigger than the tiny dot on the screen at the very early stage of your pregnancy, he was still incredibly tiny. Especially when he was in Harry’s arms. The two of you soaked up every moment with your baby boy and neither of you wanted him to grow up and not be the little baby that fit perfectly in your arms. Even when he kept the two of you up at night and into the wee hours of the morning, you and Harry never wanted him to grow up.

But that’s exactly what he did. Again, it was like the two of you blinked and the time just blew right past you both. One moment he was the tiny little human that found his home in your belly and then in your arms. And the next he was a two and a half year old carbon copy of Harry with a sprinkle of you in the mix that had a big and amazing personality of his own. He was without a doubt you and Harry’s favorite person in the world and there weren’t enough words in the world to describe how much love you two had for that little boy. But even though this was the case, you and Harry couldn’t help but miss that little baby you brought home two and a half years ago.

And since he was no longer a baby anymore, it was time for bubs to get his first big boy room. 

He’d already outgrown so many of the clothes you and Harry had gotten him along with the toys he had. The last thing on the outgrown list was the crib. And once that was finally crossed off the list, it meant that he’d finally outgrown everything. Which meant that it was time to give him a room that best suited him and his growth along with his interests. You and Harry noticed that bubs had taken a great interest in dinosaurs. From the toys he wanted and played with to the books he wanted to read to his favorite pajamas, everything was dinosaurs. So that’s what you and Harry decided to play off of when building your sons new room. The two of you wanted to create a dinosaur oasis for him and you wanted it to be everything that the toddler could possibly want. For almost four months you and Harry bought all of the furniture and decor that fit perfectly into the dinosaur theme the two of you had envisioned. And as it all came in, the two of you were able to perfectly and seamlessly put the room together. Every once in a while having a little hiccup in the process like not centering a nail on the wall or something, but nothing major. 

Now while you and Harry were loving the project and enjoyed doing this for your son, it was still a really hard process for you both. Particularly for Harry though. As the two of you got closer to being done with the new room, you and Harry began packing up bubs’ baby clothes and things that he grew out of so that you could donate them and make space for the new things you two had gotten for him. As you two packed though, Harry was incredibly sad. While he loved his little man who ran around and was just full of life and energy, he missed his little baby. He couldn’t pick him up and have him all snug and tucked into his arms the same way he used to. Bubs was bigger and all of that was sinking in now as Harry packed up all of the small clothes and toys. With everything that was placed into the container, a little coo or memory left Harry’s mouth. He couldn’t stop himself from getting a little emotional at the fact that his baby was now a big boy. The both of you were incredibly sad that he was growing up so fast. 

And even though it was an incredibly sad thing to think about, what made both you and Harry happy about it all was the big smile and shouts of amazement that came from your son once you two revealed the room to him. He was absolutely in love with his new big boy bed and all of the dinosaur pictures and decor on the walls, and the toys, and the dinosaur nightlight you two had gotten for him. He ran around the room looking at everything and taking it all in and just loving what his mommy and daddy put together for him. He couldn’t stop saying the cutest little thank you’s which only melted you and Harry even more. Seeing bubs so happy made you and Harry beyond happy and it made the whole growing up thing a bit easier. 

After showing some of the things he couldn’t immediately see in his new room and playing with him a bit, you and Harry decided to step out and let bubs enjoy his new room for a little bit while you two continued with cleaning out his old room. The two of you gave the little boy a ton of squeezes and kisses before leaving him alone with his toys and getting back to packing all the baby stuff up. You and Harry had a set up on the floor so the two of you got back down there and went back to folding and looking through things. After a little while though, Harry couldn’t do it anymore. He was too overcome with the fact that his baby boy was getting bigger and now had his first big boy room. All of it was just too much for him. Keeping the little clothing item in his hand, Harry turns himself around and lays down on the floor, resting his head in your lap and causing you to turn your attention onto him. 

“What’s going on babe?” You ask, finishing up the fold on the item in your hands before giving him your full attention. 

“M’sad” Harry mumbles with a big pout spread across his face. 

“Why baby?” You coo, bringing one of your hands to the side of his face and the other to his hair. 

“Because! Our baby isn’t a baby anymore.” Harry whines dramatically. 

“It’s not like he’s 30 or something with a wife and kid of his own...you are.” You joke, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Y/n!” He whines. 

“Okay fine! I hate it when you’re all mopey and sad, so don’t be. I’m sad too, but it’ll be okay. No matter how big he gets, he’ll always be our baby.”

“I know, I just can’t stop thinking about how small he was when we brought him home and how he really needed us. Now he’s this little person who isn’t as small and who is starting to not need us. He’s his own little person.” He explains. 

“Well he is his own little person. But he’s only two and a half, so he’ll be needing us for a good while Harry.” You reassure him with a little laugh, trying your best to comfort your very emotional husband. “What will make you feel better? What’s gonna make my baby feel better?” You coo, softly pinching his cheek in the process. 

“Make another baby?” He proposes, turning is head up towards you. 

“You know that takes both of us right?” You ask sarcastically, trying your hardest to not roll your eyes at him. 

“If I’m not mistaken, I remember you being a big fan of the baby making process.” He reminds you smugly. 

“Maybe.”

“See! Plus we’ve talked about it a couple times, so it’s the perfect time.” He says happily in your lap. “If we put bubs down for his nap now, we can have our second bubby cooking in there by dinner.” He says optimistically, bringing a hand up to your currently empty stomach. 

“I don’t think that’s how it works Harry.” You deadpan, trying to hold back your laughs from how happy and cute he was in this moment. 

“Who cares?! It never hurts to try!!” Harry continues on. “Are you in?” He asks hopefully. 

“Let’s make another baby then.” You giggle, giving in to the idea. From the outside looking in, it may have looked like a bit of a spur of the moment thing. But in actuality, you were already thinking of possibly adding another member to the Styles family. You too were sad at the idea of your little boy growing up. And on top of that, you wanted him to have a sibling and someone to play with. So it all kind of worked out. Bubs was going to be turning three soon and you and Harry were really thinking and talking about another baby so it was perfect. You just hoped that you wouldn’t be popping out another baby as each of the other kids were growing up. You were kind of crossing your fingers that going forward a big boy bed didn’t come with the quest of having another baby. 

Maybe after baby number two harry wouldn’t be so sad about growing up. 

Masterlist

[ahundredtimesover]

Friday Nights and Take-Out (1)

Would I be someone you’d hypothetically hook up with?

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre/Tags: strangers to friends to lovers, popstar/idol!jk, fluff, angst, future smut; this is a dialogue-heavy series so read if you’re into that! Also Jk is a sweet friend

Warnings: foul language, these characters talk alot bc I talk alot, heavy drinking, eventual smut

Word count: 4,300

Series summary: You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the cafe, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

series masterlist 

A/N: My recent dive into fanfics compelled me to unearth this thing I wrote 5 years ago for a certain curly-haired brit (luvu harry) but I never finished it so it never saw the light of day but now it will bc i love jungkook so much and idk what this is but let’s see!

#

There’s a light and unsure knock at the door. As you open it to see who’s visiting you this Friday night, you immediately wish you stayed at least a half hour later at your family-run café so you didn't have to be having this conversation right now. 

But you are having it right now. At your apartment. With your ex-boyfriend who finally decided to give you an explanation as to why he broke up with you five months ago. 

The next thing you know, he’s saying he’s decided to move back to Australia after graduation, he’s saying sorry for the nth time, you’re watching him walk out the door, you’re heading to your room for your blanket, you’re going back to your couch, and then you’re crying as it dawns on you exactly what just happened. 

The break up had caught you off-guard because things were going so well. Your dejected and grieving self wasn’t enough to scare him away and his shy, non-expressive self didn’t sow any doubts on your relationship. You two barely fought, too, too alike in disposition for any disagreements or grudges to fester and hurt you. Things just worked. 

But like many good things, this one ended too. It’s like he just woke up one day and decided it wasn’t going to work out anymore, for what reason, you never knew until now. It hurt you, of course - it was still a memorable 2-year run - but true to form, you were able to dust yourself off quickly and get back on your feet shortly after. 

You tried to reach out though; you were good friends before anything anyway, but he avoided you like the plague and you thought you’d not only lost a boyfriend but a friend too. Tonight felt like the closure you didn’t know you needed. He’s gone, for good. And then after graduation, he will be gone for good, for good. 

You stay lying on your couch until you get a text from Jungkook, your new famous friend and current favorite person.

JK: Ran into Jieun at work, says drinks on her at The Third tonight. You up for it?

Nope, you say to yourself. 

You: I don't wanna go out tonight. 

You immediately reply. On a normal night you’d think about it, or even pretend you’re considering it, but not tonight.

It isn’t one of those nights when you’re sad and you want to be around people and get wasted so you can convince yourself you will be okay. It’s one of those nights when you’re sad and you know you will be okay the next day but right now you’re not and you’ll deal with it until the morning comes. You’ll just have to wait because it is only 7:30 in the evening. 

You try to think of a series you’ll binge-watch, but then your phone rings and it’s Jungkook’s meme face, the one he took last week and saved as his contact photo, lighting up the screen.

“Hey, you alright?” He asks, as you groggily pick up and say “hi.” You think he probably thought something was up when you didn't have a follow up message after you turned him down for something.

“Yup,” you manage to respond after an ugly sniffle. “Except I’ve been ugly crying for the past 10 minutes,” you continue.

“What happened?” 

He seems to have stepped out of wherever he was because you hear the mumbles in the background soften quite a bit and you figure you probably disturbed his dinner.

“Jinyoung came over and said the shit I needed to hear five months ago,” you start. “He copped out cause he got scared, Jungkook. Not of getting hurt, okay, which I always said was a bullshit reason for anything but he got scared of me and my dreams. I mean, come on, how much of a fucking coward can you get?” you blurt, sniffles in between phrases, fingers pressing the bridge of your nose to try and keep yourself from crying even more. 

“But I don't know, I’m pissed but he looked so sad and sorry and now he’s moving back to Australia and I just…” you try to continue, frustration rising up again. You’re a mess of emotions right now, that’s for sure.

“Ah, boys,” Jungkook breathes out, knowing this conversation is too important for it to be had just over the phone. “I could come over with food if you like. I know you probably don't need me but you need the food so…” he trails. 

You smile to yourself. “As long as I’m not disturbing your Friday night plans.” 

“You aren’t. I’ve had enough of the hyungs, if I’m being completely honest,” he replies, voice a little louder.

You hear a mix of scolding and laughter in the background, knowing for sure that the rest of the guys are giving Jungkook shit for bailing out on them for you. Again.

“Sounds good,” you say. “Thanks.”

#

You hear a knock on the door under the fleece blanket you have over your fetus-laid body on the couch. 

“It’s open!” You shout, as you tuck the soft white material under your chin and move to your side for a more comfortable position. You look at the built, chocolate-eyed, knife-for-a-jawline pop star walk into your place with what looks like take-out Japanese food. 

“What happened to locking doors?” He asks with a concerned and almost terrified tone, brows scrunching under his stray locks, the rest of his hair hiding underneath his black bucket hat. 

“I didn't wanna escort Jinyoung to the door because it felt poetic to watch him leave from a distance…” You dramatically say.

“And you were too lazy to walk 10 steps to lock the door, but were energized enough to find your blanket from your mess of a closet in the far corner of your room?” He continues, blinking continuously at you.

“Exactly,” you say, as you point to him as if giving him props for reading your mind. 

He rolls his eyes but grins as he does, revealing his dimple that you believe is the first line of offense of his charm. You may not be one of those people who get hysterical when they see him — although you did end up embarrassing yourself when you bumped into him at the café a few months ago when you’d met — but you know charisma when you see it, and you can’t deny that it basically oozes out of him even when he’s not trying. 

He sits on the couch, in the area where your feet lie, and he starts unwrapping the food and lays them out on your coffee table. You sit up ready to pounce on the sushi rolls in front of you when he stands up and gets two glasses of water. “Anything else you need from the kitchen?” He asks.

You respond with a no and watch him open the cupboards, and you can’t help but be touched at the effort. Here is a guy whom you’ve only known for a few short months, blowing off his Friday night plans to be with you because your ex-boyfriend decided to show up… and because you needed food and Jungkook knew you wouldn't make your own when you’re upset. You’ll probably just end up with a bowl of ice cream topped with cookie dough and chocolate chips or something.

“Thanks for being here even if I don't really need you to be,” you say after chowing down a salmon roll, legs crossed underneath you as you both sit on the floor and eat from the coffee table.

“You’re overstating that, Y/N,” he laughs, looking at you, as you’re about to have a mouthful of the tuna roll this time. “I’m 200% sure that you would’ve stayed underneath the covers and probably just ate ice cream or gummy worms until morning if I hadn’t come.”

“Fine,” you start, putting the food down, straightening yourself. “Thank you for my happy food and for being here on a Friday night, watching me carbo load on rolls and tempura rice in my jammies under my blanket. It really means a lot.” You flash him a smile. 

He laughs at this. “May I remind you that this is nothing compared to last week? Keeping me hostage here wasn’t the most fun. Except for your comfortable couch that I had the pleasure of sleeping in,” he grins, tapping the empty space on the sofa next to him.

Right, last week. How could you forget? 

Your days-late New Year celebration ended with you being a goner at the bar, Jungkook being the only one available and strong enough to take you home, what with your friends' adventures and misadventures that night. 

By the time you were home, you were completely passed out. Long story short, he had stayed - which you didn’t know he did - you walked out of your room half naked, heard a sound and someone approaching, screamed and grabbed a knife, ready to attack your supposed intruder, who only turned out to be him.  

So yes, skipping out on drinks tonight didn't come close to him having to take care of you the week before and almost being stabbed by someone he was only trying to help. 

“Please don't remind me,” you say, feeling your cheeks turn red. 

“It’s a funny story to tell,” he chuckles and proceeds to get a mouthful of his own tempura rice bowl.  You look at him surprised - didn’t he just have dinner at the dorm? You shrug it off, almost forgetting this is Jungkook you’re talking about and his bottomless pit of a stomach. 

“I could’ve killed you!” 

He laughs. “But you didn’t.”

“And I didn't have an ex-boyfriend knocking on my door to apologize for being a dick,” you say, sounding serious all of a sudden. 

You know that even if you don’t really intend on having Jungkook here, it still means a great deal to you that you have someone you can talk to. You didn’t want to disturb your friends who were busy with their own work and social lives and having him here is really more than you could ask for, especially considering what he does for a living.

“What did he say?” He asks, eyes soft. You’d only mentioned the breakup in passing a few times before because really, what more can you say? Sometimes relationships just run their course; it happens. At least that’s what you thought it all was.

You sigh, readying yourself. “He said that he just started to think about that talk we had about the things we wanted, and he pointed out the fact that I wanted to do so many things and it just scared him—my goals and the fact that I could reach them scared him,” you share, dragging the words and almost shouting at the stupidity of it. 

“I know I always say we shouldn't invalidate anyone’s fears but that’s being selfish and just ridiculous.” You put the chopsticks down, as if to prepare yourself for the flurry of emotions you were about to release. 

“This guy stood by my side when I got injured and when Grandma died and I was a literal mess. But I got myself together and I got better for myself and for him and then suddenly me wanting more out of life, more for myself, suddenly scared him?” You pause for a bit, catching your breath. 

“It’s like, when he realized what I - what we - could become once real life happens, he bolted out the door, out of this country, back to everything he knew before me, before us.” 

You’re emotional again, air catching in your throat as you feel the tears pool around your eyes once more. By this time, Jungkook had paused eating his meal to focus all his attention on you. 

You continue on about that 15-minute conversation you had - if you could even call it that, given that it was all Jinyoung talking, with you staring at the man you once considered you could have a future with. 

Once you’d calmed down, you and Jungkook exchange thoughts about relationships, back and forth with nuggets of wisdom that you don’t really expect from someone you thought didn't have the time of day to maintain a relationship. 

He’d be constantly linked with models and fellow pop stars, which he’d noted weren’t anything serious or factual for that matter, at least those that weren’t part of some PR stunt, yet here he is right now, agreeing with what you’re saying and adding a different perspective to things. 

He is a hopeless romantic after all, that much he’d admitted during one wine-filled night after crying over Titanic while you were both on the phone (“they literally knew each other for just 3 days, Jungkook, they couldn’t possibly be in love,” you’d shouted. “Ah, 1900s romance,” was all he said. “So beautiful, isn’t it?” Another gulp of wine and then he’d fallen asleep.) 

You two find yourselves grabbing the pitcher of Sangria from your fridge and settle on other topics, like what could be acceptable reasons for breaking up with someone, to the ideas of fate and destiny - which you constantly bicker about because you don’t believe in it while he does, oh so passionately - to the afterlife.

“Relationships are so draining,” you say, tipping your head back on the couch, a groan escaping you. “Even after it’s over, it still takes so much out of you.” 

“I can only imagine,” he laughs bitterly. 

“Words of advice from Friday Night Me - don’t get into one. It’s tiring to pick up the pieces once it’s over.”

“Friday Night You?”

“Yeah, the one who’s upset. Monday Night Me will probably say something different.”

This amuses him, but he nods in agreement nonetheless. “Relationships tend to get messy and I’ve already got enough crazy to deal with,” he continues. “That much I’ve seen watching the hyungs get into these things from the sidelines. I’m sure it’s great and all and I can’t wait to be in one too, don’t get me wrong.” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“I mean hello, Jack and Rose?” You roll your eyes. “Allie and Noah?” 

You laugh. Seriously, this guy needs to watch more romantic films. 

“But I don’t know, too much going on with me right now, I guess,” he continues, shoulders slumped, eyes suddenly finding your fur rug interesting.

You dwell on this thought a little longer than you had wanted. 

You get what he’s saying, though. It’s draining enough for a commoner like you, what more for a worldwide superstar like him? You try to decipher if it’s sadness in his voice, maybe frustration? Resignation? Acceptance?

“But I’m sorry you had to go through that, Y/N.” He says, subject of the conversation now back to you, causing you to break out of your reverie. “I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better,” he says, hand scratching the back of his neck.

“Hey, no need to be sorry! I’ll be fully functional again by tomorrow. I just didn’t realize there was more to the breakup so I was just thrown off a little bit.” You flash him a smile. “But I’m good, really. And the food was enough,” you add. “And your presence, of course.” A smile again. You realize you seem to do that a lot when he’s around.

But you do feel better. You hadn’t thought much about Jinyoung since the breakup until tonight, seeing all the other things going on in your life. But seeing and listening to him made you feel all sorts of emotions that you really just wanted to let out. 

You’d kept a lot of these thoughts to yourself the last few months because you didn’t feel like there was more to say after that first goodbye, and it was nice to have Jungkook there to just listen, which is what you said you wanted him to do (“what kind of friend do you want me to be tonight?” He’d asked. “The listening one,” you’d replied.) But you’ve said what you needed to say, felt all that you needed to feel, and now you’re shutting close, under lock and key this time, that chapter of your life once and for all. 

After a fairly long silence, when he was sure you’d already expressed all your frustrations, he let out a breath. 

“Well, this was a much better option than drinking your sadness away at some club, yeah?” he asks, moving his body to his left side with his back on the armrest so he’s now facing you who’s also back on the couch now, sushi rolls and tempura rice all gone, sangria but a sip left. 

“Well, that wasn't an option in the first place, Jeon,” you call out. “I’m not really one who would take advantage of my misery and use it to justify a night of drinking and awkward hook-ups,” you anticipate, recalling the countless times your friends had encouraged you to go out and find someone good enough for a one night stand these past months.

“Ah, so you’re not a fan of hook-ups, no?” He smirks, looking intently at you, clearly curious about your thoughts on the idea. It’s amusing how quickly you could change topics but it was a good try to move on from the somber conversation you just had.

“I don't really wanna have sex with someone I’ll only be sharing fluids with,” you say, blankly. This intrigues him because now, he’s moving closer to you like a kid waiting for his next adventure story. 

You laugh at his movement. He tips his head, signaling you to continue.

“It’s just not my thing, that’s all,” you start, trying to find a way to explain yourself. 

“I want someone to talk and laugh with when it gets sloppy,” you say, “and someone to make me breakfast when I oversleep. A guy for pure pleasure probably wouldn’t be that person for me. He’d probably just focus on getting both of us off and then up and leave,” you shrug.

This amuses him, even if he chuckles and says “I knew it probably had something to do with food,” and being the Jungkook you’ve come to know these past months, he asks you something that catches you off-guard but at the same time doesn't really surprise you.

“Would I be someone you’d hypothetically hook up with?” He smirks again, excited for your answer.

“No, you’re too good-looking for that,” you say almost instantly and you curse yourself in your head.

“So you mean hypothetically if you were to hook up with someone, he’d have to be unattractive?” He asks, seemingly confused.

“Uh, if it would just be for pure pleasure, yeah… I mean I wouldn’t mind but of course he’d have to be like, hot or something,” like that was common sense. “I’d probably be too drunk to focus on his face and it’d probably be too dark for it to matter anyway,” you shrug. You’re hoping this makes sense to him because your friends never did quite get it. 

You just really don’t do hook ups, especially drunk ones, not that you put sex on a pedestal, but you just have a thing for the before and after of it - the gentle fore play, the removing (and not ripping) of clothes, the cuddle and the aftercare that stretches to breakfast or lunch, and the lazy morning sex. Call you hopeless romantic or something, at least this is your version of it, but those were the things you like about sex, the full package. 

“Hmm, I feel honored to be too attractive to hypothetically hook up with Y/N Y/L/N,” he says, feeling proud of himself, smiling like a kid who just got a blue ribbon for something superficial. God, the duality and contradictions of this guy, you think.

“Let’s just say… you have a face and a touch I’d hypothetically want to get used to, so I wouldn't settle for just one night with you, and then it wouldn't be a hook-up!” You say trying to sound nonchalant, thinking about the tinylittle crush your friends claim you’ve developed on the guy in front you but really, anyone with a pair of eyes would agree that the man is beautiful (you’d always deflected though - “have you seen King Namjoon? Now that is the man, you’d say). 

You settle for honesty though, and it’s true. You just don’t delve on the full package thing, because you know Jungkook is exactly the kind of guy to do all that, but you stop your mind from going there, much so with him sitting in front of you. 

“Ah,” he says, pleased with himself. “So you could get used to this, huh?” He teases, lunging on you, his knees just barely resting on your thighs. He’s planting his hands on your face and squishing every surface he possibly could, laughing as he’s doing so while you shout out every cuss word you know and trying your best to hit him with your hands even if he’s just going to block your hits anyway. 

You kick him on the thigh when he finishes his rampage but it is you who squeals of pain because you used your right foot, the one you re-injured after playing a tune-up game of volleyball the other day. 

Naturally he grabs your foot and starts massaging it, as if he’d always been doing that since you’ve met, which he hasn't. And you haven’t even known each other that long. 

“You’re annoying,” is the only thing you could mutter after finally catching your breath. You can’t lie though, his massage is pretty good. You lay your head on your stretched out right leg and can’t help but close your eyes. 

He sees the satisfaction on your face and not long after, he quips, “I bet this is also something you could get used to after a good night of fucking, yeah?” he starts laughing. 

Since last week’s incident, you’d noticed Jungkook being more comfortable and definitely a little cheekier, flirty, even. Perhaps seeing you in your underwear could do that to a person, you think. 

You feel your cheeks heat up, and all you could do is hit his arm continuously so that he had started to flex after a few slaps. You literally were just talking about hook ups, why did you feel so scandalized? (You’re in denial; you know exactly why.) 

“Good? That confident with your abilities, I see.” You tease, as both of you have now settled down and kept your body parts to yourselves. 

A grin starts creeping from the side of his lips and you immediately regret making such a comment. “Nevermind!” You shout, holding out your hand to cover his mouth before he could say anything again. 

“I’m teasing. I wouldn't know, actually. It’s not like I do it often to know, anyway.”

At this you’re pleasantly surprised, not that you expect him to be the kind of pop star who casually and constantly hooks up with women just because he can, but still you know the parties he attends and all the beautiful women in his circle who no doubt wouldn’t mind making a move, or probably already do on a regular basis. 

Maybe you’re just startled that he would be open about this particular facet of his life to someone he hasn't known long. But then again, you two have been open to each other about many things since you’ve met, but that’s still something you’re only starting to get used to. 

“It doesn't matter,” you say, flashing him the same sincere and thoughtful smile that you put on when he started fixing up your dinner for you earlier. He returns your smile, eyes soft, as if grateful for you not asking any more.

“Well, I mean you’re good at a lot of things anyway so if you suck at that, you could always just sing or dance or impersonate someone and that would overshadow whatever it is you suck at,” you say, winking at him. 

He hits you with a pillow. 

“I’m not sure if that’s supposed to make me feel better,” he says, “but thank you for complimenting my impersonating skills because I think that’s being undermined by the media.” 

You both laugh at the humor.

#

“Tonight made me feel better, though. Thanks for being here,” you say as you finish your glass of wine. 

It’s been hours since he arrived, sleepiness no doubt creeping on the both of you, especially on him who’d spent his day practicing and filming. It’s moments like this that make you happy you met him, that you didn’t freak out or think much when he asked for your number those months ago. 

It’s also moments like this that you remind yourself of what you’d lose if you nurture that tinylittle seed of affection that’s growing in your heart, one unwittingly planted there a week ago. 

He looks at you softly again, as if there’s more he wants to say but instead he replaces his bunny smile with a gentle one, wrinkles forming at the outer corner of his eyes, cheeks just slightly pushing up to reveal the bags underneath those orbs of his. They glisten under the lighting in your living room.

He lets the silence linger a little longer. 

“Anything for you, Y/N.” 

You let yourself bask in this thought, in his presence, just for tonight. Saturday You will get over this. 

As you lay on your bed that night, you decide it isn’t just your past with your ex that you’ll bury under lock and key. It’s also this.

##

>> part 1 drabble

series masterlist

[quokkacore]

nct ot23 as things that happened to me during quarantine

a/n: i know i said i was on hiatus bc of my computer but this was short and easy to make so 💀

warnings: language and brief mentions of porn and a panic attack

ten: spoiled a death from attack on titan for my younger sibling because they kept annoying me while i was trying to watch say yes to the dress

johnny: straightened my hair and parted it down the middle before realizing i looked like ozzy osbourne and then cried

taeyong: tried painting with watercolors to relax, got stressed out because i didn't like it and never finished the painting

jeno: tried to reality shift the night before my sat because i wanted to go to a reality where i still had time to study. it didn't work and i still got a shitty score

renjun: angry cried and texted my friend to rant for 20 minutes at 4 in the morning because the y/n in the fic i was reading ended up with her manipulative ex boyfriend instead of his best friend

jisung: watched feet porn at 3 in the morning because i couldn't sleep and wanted to know what the big deal was

yuta: made a meme of italian xiaojun because i made a typo and wrote "ciaojun" instead

jungwoo: tried a workout named "mikasa ackermann abs workout", finished one set out of seven and then cried

xiaojun: got laid on by my dog during said "mikasa ackermann abs workout" and was unable to finish my sit ups

mark: fought a cockroach in my bathroom at 3 in the morning the first night of the us election. my underwear was still down and i didn't have time to pull it up so i struggled trying to kill it for a solid three minutes while waddling like a toddler

taeil: stubbed my toe while dancing to promiscuous by nelly furtado and timbaland and trying to be ~sexy~ my toenail turned blue and i walked with a little limp for like two days

sungchan: danced around my house to irish music while i was home alone because i wanted to Feel Something again

doyoung: almost had a panic attack but stopped it by impulse cleaning my bathroom

haechan: made a dramatic journal entry three weeks into the stay at home orders because i thought it would only last one long week and i missed taking the bus

jaehyun: made a playlist in my journal titled "everything is on fire but at least i have good taste" in november

hendery: let out a VERY loud, long fart in the middle of a serious conversation with my family, causing my dad to get mad at me

jaemin: tried to learn chinese. gave up half an hour later because i got extremely confused trying to hear the difference in the tones. i ended up watching boom fancams instead.

shotaro: spent a solid three days listening EXCLUSIVELY to jaehyun's cover of a whole new world. i cried like twice

kun: tried to adjust my shirt while talking to my mom and younger sibling. my boob decided to pop out and i haven't been able to live it down since

yangyang: impulse started a writing blog and to this day my most popular piece is low key furry porn

winwin: got woken up at five am on a sunday morning because there was a helicopter hovering right above my neighborhood??? it circled over like three times and i still dont know why

chenle: showed my friend a ton of red velvet mvs because she wanted to know more about kpop and spent fifteen minutes shit talking SM even though she low key had no idea what i was talking about

lucas: tried to curl my eyelashes with an eyelash curler because i wanted to ✨feel pretty✨ but my hand slipped and i ripped out like twelve eyelashes on accident

[the-killer-queenie]

Baby's first word (dad!Joonas)

Hey! It finally happened; I wrote my first fic ever. I know, I'm shook too. The things Blind Channel are making me do🥴

I really want to thank @poodlejoonas 💜 (the culprit xP) for not only letting me run with her AU but also for being a total angel and proof reading, making corrections and suggesting ideas. I'm linking both of her fics incluiding dad!Joonas but all of her fics are totally worthy and so extraordinarily written: poodlejoonas's dad!Joonas fic (aka the fic that started all) // the BC guys as uncles

Hope y'all enjoy it!☺️

After one year and a half without shows, the world slowly started to open up which meant Blind Channel managed to get new gigs in what seemed like forever. Everyone was thrilled at the idea of playing shows again like before the pandemic hit. Sure, UMK and Eurovision were amazing experiences but playing multiple times and only one song couldn't beat the adrenaline of performing a proper setlist in front of a real crowd jumping and singing along.

To say that Joonas was really excited wasn’t enough. His time was split between rehearsals with the band and spending time with you and Sohvi at your home. As perfectionist as the boys were, they even had to encourage Joonas to leave some rehearsals earlier so he could spend some well-deserved time with his daughter. But even at your home, Joonas would keep practicing (not that you would complain, since you love hearing him play and sing) giving mini acoustic shows to a starstruck Sohvi, who would watch his dad with loving eyes and sloppily clap when the songs ended.

Of course, the thought of bringing you and his little daughter to one of the shows crossed his mind, but both of you decided to wait a little more before taking young Sohvi to one of the band's concerts.

Despite only being away for a weekend, Joonas left you both with him promising he’d try not to go off the rails, to which you laughed and reassured him not to worry as long as he found his way home.

Joonas had to leave really early in the morning. You weren’t even up yet but felt his kiss on your cheek. You also heard him making a stop at your daughter’s room to say his goodbye to an asleep Sohvi.

At around the time Joonas would come home from the studio, you heard Sohvi babbling in the living room. Since she couldn’t talk yet, she motioned towards Joonas’s guitar he kept in the corner of the room, which you took as her way of questioning where her father was. “Clever girl,” you said as you picked her up. “Daddy is playing songs like when he plays it for you before bedtime, but this time for thousands of people.'' You knew she couldn’t yet understand her father’s profession but she made happy noises, which you took as a sign of understanding. "Such a good girl," you said as you bopped her nose. “We can go to the park and then we can call daddy, okay?” you proposed, which was met with even more cheerful noises.

Joonas came back late at night. You were taking a shower when you heard the rattle of keys and the front door being open. Joonas was finally home, and he left his guitar and bag against the wall. He heard the shower, so the first thing he did as soon as he dropped his stuff was check on Sohvi in her bedroom, where she lay asleep in her crib clutching her teddy bear (a present from Uncle Tommi). He tucked her in and gave her a kiss on her forehead. You, having finished your shower, stood against the door frame, adoringly observing the scene. The scene lasted for a moment until Joonas, feeling your presence, turned around with a cheeky smile.

"Enjoying the view?"

"Hey, you rockstar."

Joonas approached you and hungrily kissed you. Breaking off the kiss, you started to close Sohvi's bedroom door, so you could talk without waking her up. Joonas took a last look at the little baby and whispered.

"She's such an angel."

"She really is."

You could tell he was still buzzing with excitement from the weekend he just had. He seemed really excited to talk about the show and how good it felt to play live again. But as enthusiastic as he looked, he also looked extremely tired, so you immediately demanded him to go to bed and get some rest, promising he could tell you all about it in the morning.

The next day was a day spent with family. The band decided to take a few days before starting new rehearsals and working on the next album. You forced Joonas to stay in bed as you prepared breakfast and brought it to him. After that, both of you spent the morning cuddling, until you heard Sohvi waking up. Joonas finally left bed to greet his little angel. Sohvi was still sleepy but thrilled to see her dad. “Isä on täällä.”* Joonas softly said as she babbled and made grabby hands towards him. He took her out of the crib and carried her to your shared bed. What followed were more cuddles and Joonas’s weekend stories (at least the few “child-appropriate” ones, since Sohvi was present and you know kids are like sponges). He recounted how Olli lost his bass, which made you laugh but also made you both wonder if he still was the best choice for being Sohvi's godfather.

After lunch, Joonas received an email from their photographer with a bunch of videos of the concert, so naturally he had to show them to both of you. He set up his computer in front of the sofa, where you were sitting with Sohvi in your lap, and played the videos. Whenever Joonas was on scene, you’d point at the screen and say, “look Sohvi, that’s daddy right there,” and Joonas’s heart would melt. Sohvi even started to do little jumps and you could swear she was trying to mimic Joonas’s movements he did to hype up the crowd before Dark Side was played. Joonas was so delighted by the scene he took out his phone and started filming the whole situation.

“Look at her, a proper heir of the Porko dynasty.” Joonas joked, though you knew in reality, he was half-serious and wondered how much time would pass until she got any kind of instrument in her hands, either a present from Joonas or from any of her uncles.

But none of you were prepared to hear your baby saying her first word when Joonas’s solo came up: “isä.” She said “daddy” in her father’s native Finnish. Both you and Joonas froze and looked at each other with teary eyes as you both processed the moment. Joonas interrupted in cheers as he picked her up and kissed her cheek, his blonde curly hair getting in her face and making her laugh. You quickly grabbed Joonas’s phone from his hand, since it almost flew away as he spun Sohvi around and kept recording the tender moment.

"I have to tell the boys. They were sure her first word was going to be Porko. Joel even bet on it."

"Oh that explains their insistence on saying Porko even though you weren’t in the room but Sohvi was…”

*Isä on täällä = Daddy's here (according to google translator, so @ Finns feel free to correct me pls)

[fangirlandiknowit101]

Here's the sad pining sasuke i wrote last night... it's not finished and who knows when/if i'll finish it. university AU, not edited and there's some naru//hina and sasuke//OC bc i couldn't think of a canon character that fit. The texting part is also weird bc i wrote it all very fast lol. i'm sharing bc why not *shrugs*

xxx

It hurts, to look at them.

Sasuke can’t help himself. Naruto is his best friend, after all, and he’s not yet so desperate that he’ll avoid him. It’s worse, somehow, that he can’t even dislike her.

She’s good for him, he thinks, when he’s feeling particularly self-deprecating. Her hair is dark and her skin pale as porcelain, and that’s where the similarities end between him and Hinata.

Sweet, and so patient with Naruto. Soft-spoken, but not a pushover. Impeccably dressed, always, no make-up needed to outshine any girl beside her. A picture perfect couple, that’s what they are. It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t have to watch it unfold from the front row.

How her shyness turned to surety, how her eyes would catch on Naruto and look away before, but now – now she looks at him like he belongs to her, soft smile on her plump lips.

Sasuke can’t even hate her, and he wishes he could.

It’s not her fault that Sasuke is the way he is. She doesn’t know, isn’t doing it on purpose. And yet, there’s a stab to Sasuke’s chest every time she takes his hand, every time Naruto tucks her silky hair behind her perfect ear.

Naruto will kiss her cheek and Sasuke will be looking, always looking. His face devoid of emotion, his voice carefully neutral. He can’t be mean to Naruto’s girlfriend, though he wishes he could. Maybe if Naruto got mad at him and pushed him away, Sasuke would be free to move on.

It’s more likely that Sasuke would apologize and do better, and he’d rather spare himself the embarrassment.

Sometimes he imagines that Hinata will find out, that she’ll start treating him with suspicion, watch his every move with her wide eyes. Feel threatened by him. But Sasuke is no threat. He’s tired and hurting, but he’s not a homewrecker. It would be a lot easier if Naruto didn’t keep nudging him in Sakura’s direction.

It’s not Sakura’s fault, either. She’s dreaming of something she can’t have, and the similarities make him sick to his stomach.

Sometimes he thinks he’ll date her, live the lie to the fullest. Give her what she wants, since he’s doomed anyway. He doubts he’d last long, though. If he had even the slightest bit of interest in women – but when he looks at her, there’s just no attraction. He’s not sure how no one’s noticed yet. It’s not like he’s that good of an actor. He thinks the only reason no one’s figured it out is because he’s so deep in the closet, and they’re all so heterosexual. Why would they suspect he’s gay? It suits them better if he isn’t.

“Oh, I didn’t realize it was that late already,” Sakura says beside him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

The bar is lively around them, but the music is at a bearable noise level. She’s looking at her phone, frowning. On the other side of the small table, Naruto pouts.

“It’s not late!” he objects, the beer in his glass sloshing around as he waves his hands around. “We just got here!”

“We’ve been here for three hours, I think,” Hinata says, leaning her cheek on his shoulder.

Sasuke wonders how she manages, the way he moves around so much. Perhaps her body is as soft as her voice, easily following him.

“I told you I have to get up early tomorrow.” Sakura sighs, irritated. She fishes her bag up from the floor, putting her phone inside it. “I really have to get going.”

“I’ll walk you to the station,” Sasuke offers. Not because he particularly wants to, but he’s not in the mood to subject himself to third-wheeling Naruto and Hinata. “I should get going, anyway.”

“What?” Naruto looks disappointed, more disappointed than when Sakura announced her departure. “I thought you were free tomorrow.”

Rolling his eyes, Sasuke swallows down the last of his drink.

“Doesn’t mean I want to stay up all night,” he counters with, easing out of the booth. “I still have to study.”

“You study too much,” Naruto mutters, giving Hinata a smile like an afterthought when she squeezes his arm.

“Maybe if you studied at all you wouldn’t need to panic before every exam,” Sakura nags at him, coming around the table to wait next to Sasuke. “Some of us care about our grades.”

“Nerds.” At least Naruto looks a little happier, and Sasuke hates to think that it’s because he thinks anything’s going to happen between him and Sakura. “Don’t get lost, you two!”

They say their goodbyes, and Sasuke tries to pretend he doesn’t notice how Sakura’s cheeks fill with color when they step outside the bar. She’s put a jacket on, but Sasuke’s fine in his sweater. It’s not cold enough that her blush can be blamed on the weather.

“Thanks for walking me,” she says, hefting her bag higher up her shoulder. She’d joined them straight from the library, researching her latest paper. “You didn’t have to.”

“It’s fine,” he tells her, hands tucked into his sleeves.

He doesn’t want to run the risk of her attempting to reach for his hand. As much as he dislikes her attention, it’s safer if she thinks he’s just playing hard to get. He won’t have to explain, then, why he hasn’t outright told her to give up. He should, he knows. But Naruto would just nudge him towards some other girl, would bother him about it until Sasuke started going on actual dates. It’s touching, how worried he is over Sasuke potentially being lonely.

Too bad Naruto himself is the cause of it.

“You’re not doing anything tomorrow, then?” Sakura asks, stepping aside as they meet a group of half-drunk businessmen. “I’m working until five…”

It would be so easy to invite her out. To suggest a movie, or trying out that new café near campus. To watch her eyes light up with hope, watch her mouth stretch into an excited smile.

“I really do need to study,” he says. “And I’m almost out of clean clothes.”

None of it is a lie, technically. He’s just not sure he’ll actually do either of those things tomorrow.

“Oh.”

She tries to hide her disappointment, and Sasuke is an expert by now at pretending he doesn’t notice. They walk the rest of the way in silence, waving a quick goodbye at the ticket gates as Sakura’s train is due to arrive in just two minutes. Sasuke buys a drink from a vending machine and takes small sips as he waits for his own, mindlessly scrolling through social media. He almost ignores the text Naruto sends.

> Wanna hang out tomorrow?

He contemplates it. On the one hand, yes, of course he wants to. On the other, having an entire day to himself has its appeal.

> I’ll be busy

> Ooh, with sakura?

The train arrives, and Sasuke snags a seat next to a couple too caught up with each other to pay attention to him.

> No

> Got studying and laundry to do

The reply is instant.

> That’s too boring!!! I’m coming over for lunch

> Whatever

He pockets his phone, and stares down at the bottle in his hands for the rest of the trip. It doesn’t help against the warmth rising in his chest. At least he doesn’t do this to Sakura – doesn’t invite himself into her space, ignorant of her feelings. It doesn’t make him feel better.

xxx

Sasuke doesn’t have a lot of friends. He’s got Naruto, and then there’s his small group of friends from high school. Naruto is the only one who still lives nearby. Rather, Sasuke had ended up staying in Konoha like him. It’s a big enough city that most of his classmates are strangers, although slightly less so in their second year. He stayed with his parents for his first year, but when one of his cousins moved abroad for work he took the opportunity to stay at her apartment instead. It’s closer to his university, and if he, potentially, wanted to bring a guy home then no one would know.

He doesn’t think his parents would mind, but there wouldn’t be any privacy. He relishes in it, and Naruto does, too.

“I should just move in with you,” Naruto groans, spread out on his couch. “You wouldn’t believe how annoying my mom was this morning.”

“I think I can believe it,” Sasuke tells him, cleaning up after their lunch. “And just to be clear, I’ve never said you’d be welcome to live here.”

“Stingy,” Naruto grumbles. “How long is your cousin gone, anyway?”

Shrugging, Sasuke dries off the counter just for something to do with his hands.

“A year at least. We’ll see. So it’s not like I’ll be living here forever.”

“But still!”

“Where would you even sleep?”

Naruto happily pats the couch. When Sasuke scowls at him, he simply grins.

“Come on,” Naruto says. “I want to watch a movie.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I need to study.”

Still, he gives in too easily. Naruto lifts his legs to give him room, dumping them all over Sasuke’s lap once he sits down. It’s things like this that makes Sasuke’s heart refuse to give up. He leans his elbow on the back of the couch, cheekbone pressed to his closed fist. He doesn’t say anything when Naruto picks a drama at random, letting him comment on the plot as much as he wants. Watching movies with Naruto is certainly never quiet, and he winces as Naruto kicks his legs as he shouts his anger at the main character.

When the movie ends, Naruto doesn’t start a new one. Instead he chews on his bottom lip, playing with the remote. Sasuke considers getting up to use the toilet, maybe suggesting going to the corner store for snacks, but then Naruto clears his throat suspiciously.

“What?” he asks, irritated when Naruto takes his time.

“So, how are things going with Sakura?”

He resists the urge to pinch his nose. He still lets out a heavy breath, not quite a sigh but close enough that Naruto frowns.

“I mean,” Naruto continues, “you could just ask her out. She’s definitely going to say yes.”

Sasuke shifts, uncomfortable. Naruto’s legs are still on top of his. His socks have little frogs on them.

“I’ve told you I’m not really into the idea of a relationship right now.”

“Uh-huh.” Naruto rolls his eyes, pushing himself up and finally removing his legs, crossing them at the ankles instead. “Sounds like excuses to me.”

“Just drop it, Naruto.”

“But if you get together things will be so much easier,” Naruto insists, poking at his arm. “We can go on double dates, and stuff.”

Sending him a glare, Sasuke pulls a leg up to his chest. It won’t prevent Naruto if he decides to get comfy on his lap again, but it might make him think twice at least. Naruto’s only wearing shorts, and all that naked skin isn’t good for his heart. It’s definitely too cold for it, but Naruto’s never been one to care about the weather.

“We already go places together.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same!”

Sasuke pinches his lips, looking away. If he’s not careful, those large blue eyes will convince him to cave in, and then he’ll find himself with a girlfriend. He does a lot for Naruto, but there are limits.

“I’m not going to ask her out,” he mutters, knowing it will only lead to more questioning.

Sure enough, Naruto makes a noise of protest.

“But you haven’t rejected her either!”

“She hasn’t asked me out either.”

“It’s obvious she likes you.”

“That’s her problem.”

Naruto kicks at his thigh, using his heel. He looks properly annoyed now, as if Sasuke is a petulant child, refusing to do what’s best for him.

“If you got over yourself for a minute, you’d realize what a catch she is!”

He doesn’t reply. Let Naruto think he’s just stubborn, or an asshole, or whatever. Let him think Sasuke’s just stringing her along, keeping her attention while refusing to commit. It��s better than the alternative.

“Leave it, Naruto,” he warns, getting up and moving to the kitchen. “We’re not talking about this.”

At least Naruto doesn’t follow him, though it doesn’t make much of a difference. The apartment is small, no wall separating the kitchen from the living room. He searches through his cabinets, locating a forgotten bag of wasabi peas. He throws them at Naruto’s head.

“Eat these and shut up,” he says.

To his relief, Naruto does as told.

xxx

He picks up the call from Karin half-distracted, mind still stuck on a question for tomorrow’s seminar. As usual, she doesn’t wait for him to say hi, making her wince with the volume of her voice.

“Do you have any idea how tiring it is to listen to Naruto whine about you?” she starts with, the background noise suggesting she’s outdoors. “Can’t you just tell him you’re gay and put me out of my misery.”

“No thanks.” He drops his pen on his desk, rubbing at his eyes. He regrets not going to the university library, at least then he wouldn’t have been able to pick up the call. “Was that all? I’m kind of busy.”

“You know, this is exactly why I moved away,” she continues, ignoring him. “I thought I could get away from all the high school-level drama. Just get yourself a boyfriend, and go on those stupid double dates my cousin is so desperately yearning for. How hard can it be?!”

He can feel a headache incoming, and he rubs his fingertips between his brows. Naruto had sulked for hours the day before, until Sasuke got sick of it and threw him out. It was definitely backhanded of him to call Karin and complain.

“If you really wanted to be left out of it, why are you calling me? That’s the opposite of not getting involved.”

“Because it’s really painful and I’m morally obligated as the only person with functional brain cells to tell you to move on. Juugo’s too nice to say it and Suigetsu would give you terrible advice and sit back and watch. I’m being nicer to you than you deserve.”

“By telling me to move on,” Sasuke deadpans, wondering why his parents couldn’t have settled down somewhere else.

“Well, someone has to do it! Clearly I’m the gay cousin in the family, so you’re screwed. Might as well get over it and get laid.”

“I really hate you sometimes, you know that?”

She huffs at him, traffic and broken conversations filtering through the phone. There’s the jingle of a shop’s door, and the noise cuts off.

“Your pining is just getting sad,” she eventually replies, distractedly. “Trust me, I know my cousin. He’s not worth it.”

Something unpleasant churns in Sasuke’s stomach. He wants to argue with her that he is worth it, but he doesn’t want to land himself in an hour-long lecture if he can help it. He rolls his neck, making a face. She’s got a point, but he doesn’t enjoy hearing it. His life would be a lot simpler if he could find someone who made him forget about Naruto. He’s just not sure it’s fair to expect someone to instantly replace a lifetime of friendship.

“I don’t think I should have to come out just because Naruto irritates you,” is what he says instead, leaning back in his chair. “What if my parents find out and disown me? You want to be responsible for that?”

“Sasuke,” she sighs, “your brother is literally gay and your parents love his boyfriend.”

“So?”

“Stop. Making. Excuses.”

He bites his cheek, holding back a denial. He’s not worried about his parents, he’s worried about Naruto’s reaction. That things will change between them. That he’ll think Sasuke has feelings for him, which would be correct but would also ruin absolutely everything.

“I’ll… consider it,” he concedes, after a long silence, during which Karin has finished buying whatever it was she needed.

“Really? Because I’m going to hold you to that.”

He sighs.

“Next time I’m not picking up when you call me.”

xxx

A few weeks pass, and not much changes. Naruto still takes up too much space in his head and life, Sakura continues to drop hints but refuses to make the first move, and Hinata is still as lovely as ever. She doesn’t seem to have much of a personality other than being Naruto’s girlfriend, but to be fair Sasuke hasn’t precisely paid attention or tried to get to know her. Naruto’s birthday is drawing closer, and he can’t bring himself to do anything to break the status quo before then.

He’s been considering it, though. It would be a relief to stop pretending. He can’t imagine himself finding a boyfriend, though, because where would he even meet someone? It’s too awkward to use a dating app, and he’s not precisely social. He doesn’t have any experience, either, if you don’t count those childish games they played sometimes when they were younger. And that one time Naruto kissed him by accident when they were twelve.

Because of this, he’s really not expecting it when one day in class, just as the lecture ends, his eyes fall on the messenger bag that the guy next to him has just finished packing. There’s a rainbow pin on it, and Sasuke blurts out his question before he can stop to think about it.

“Are you gay?”

He only lifts his eyes from the pin when the surprised silence stretches out a bit too long. Their eyes meet, and the other boy is staring at him like he’s not sure how to react.

“Uh,” he says eventually, fingers clenching around the bag’s strap. “I mean, yes? But if you’re thinking about the pin it’s just a regular rainbow…”

He trails off, and Sasuke feels his cheeks heat up a bit. He can’t believe he just asked, when he himself has gone to such lengths to make sure no one made such assumptions about him.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s fine.”

Maybe he should know the guy’s name, but he doesn’t. He’s pretty short, hair dyed a light brown and glasses perched on his nose. Cute, but Sasuke’s not sure he’s his type. He’s not sure he has a type, other than Naruto.

“Are you gay?” the guy asks him, eyebrows rising above the frame of his glasses.

Sasuke licks his lips. He could say no, but to what end?

“I am,” he forces out, breathing in a deep breath.

“Oh.” There’s red color blooming on the other boy’s face, his eyes flickering to the side for a moment. “I was kind of hoping, but, um… I mean, hoping sounds weird! Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to ask outright.”

When Sasuke stands up, he realizes he’s almost a head taller than him.

“I’m Sasuke,” he offers, clicking his laptop shut and slowly sliding it into his bag.

“I know. I mean! I’m Hiroshi. Nice to meet you.”

Sasuke nods, and awkwardly turns to leave. Hiroshi stops him with a hand to his arm, though, and Sasuke swallows nervously as the turns back. He’s not interested in Hiroshi, not really, but he’s never been asked out by a boy before and the novelty of the situation is getting to him.

“Do you, um, are you busy right now? We could have lunch?”

He weighs the pros and cons in his mind. As nervous as Hiroshi looks, there’s a determined glint in his eyes that sways Sasuke over.

“Okay,” he says, and just like that he’s doing what Karin told him to do.

He’s trying, at least.

xxx

Over the course of a week, including having coffee together and a visit to the aquarium, Sasuke learns a lot about Hiroshi. Or Hiro, as he likes his friends to call him. They don’t have too much in common, but they’re both gay and studying agricultural economics. Once Hiro gets over his initial shyness, Sasuke finds he’s got a great sense of humor and won’t hesitate to poke fun at him.

It’s a breath of relief, to spend time with someone who doesn’t know him from before. He didn’t realize how much he needed it – just being able to be himself, without constantly keeping himself in check.

He can’t fool himself to think it’s enough to replace Naruto, but maybe he doesn’t need to replace him. Maybe it’s enough that Hiro seems to like him. He doesn’t really think about it, when he invites Hiro over on a Saturday night, after they’d had dinner at a nice udon place.

“Oh, wow,” Hiro says as he steps into Sasuke’s apartment, making an impressed face. “Nice place.”

“It’s my cousin’s, so no need to sound so impressed.”

Hiro rolls his eyes, taking off his shoes and jacket and following Sasuke inside.

“Alright, I’ll try to keep it in,” he teases, sitting on the couch when Sasuke motions him towards it. “But it must be nice, to have your own place like this. The dorms are fine, but I can’t exactly bring guys there.”

Humming his agreement, Sasuke grabs two cans of soda from the fridge, handing one of them to Hiro when he sinks down on the couch next to him.

“Want to watch something?”

Hiro nods, and Sasuke brings the TV to life. He’s not expecting anything to happen – they’ve only known each other a week. He’s still coming to terms with having a friend other than Karin he can talk to like this, and she doesn’t really count since there was never the potential for anything to happen between them. Hiro is… potentially someone Sasuke could date. At least there’s nothing wrong with him, not yet, and Sasuke’s easing himself into the idea of getting to know him better.

He finds a movie at random, some sci-fi that doesn’t look terrible. The movie turns into background noise as they talk, Hiro’s eyes watching his face more than the screen. It’s nice, in a new, exhilarating way, to have a guy’s attention on him like this. He’s not sure what to do with it. When Hiro moves closer, knee touching Sasuke’s thigh, hand resting on the back of the couch and occasionally touching his neck, Sasuke can’t find it in him to move away.

It feels like a secret, shared between the two of them. He thinks of Naruto for a long moment, allows himself the pain lacing through his chest as he imagines light brown hair replaced with blond, dark eyes replaced with blue. Then, he pushes it away, tells himself he can have this. The emotions are only his own.

It’s all happening too fast when Hiro grows bold, leaning in to press their mouths together, but he doesn’t care. It’s no one’s business if he spends the evening on his couch with a boy in his lap, a boy who isn’t his best friend.

The pain is easier to swallow if he tells himself that he’s the only one hurt.

[hoekaashi]

3 am Talks - hq pt 3

a/n: almost done, two more left!! i’m not sure why, but these ones were really fun for me to do and i had to cut myself off before i wrote whole fics for each one. also thank you to my wifey for helping me with akaashi, idk why his was so hard for me to do ): pairings: bokuto x reader, akaashi x reader, ushijima x reader, tendou x reader, semi x reader warnings: some spoilers for post timeskip, minor cussing, a bit suggestive (ushi) taglist: @babydabi​, @suckersuki​, @bakugoustanaccount​, @animoozies​ part 2 | part 4

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

⇾ definitely someone who talks about the first things that just pop into his mind ⇾ would literally change topics in the middle of his sentence ⇾ “did you see my last spread, I was centerfold Tsum-Tsum was not happy but when I offered to trade places with him, it made him even more mad - I just got an email saying my new knee pads have been shipped YES - babe are you hungry? Let’s go to the convenience store and get some snacks” ⇾ all over the place ⇾ but the second sleep starts to hit him, he become even softer than he already is ⇾ this baby would def be asking for validation without outright asking for it - we all know he lives to be praised but as he gets older, he stops asking for it directly ⇾ i feel like he just becomes more self-conscious after he realizes that being on a national team means that now the entire WORLD is scrutinizing him ⇾ i could keep going on about him imma stop

“I couldn’t help it, I started laughing.” Even hours later, Bokuto was trying to hold in laughter from the memory of the event. “I think that’s why he’s mad at you Kou.” Bokuto pouted. “I offered to help him up.” “Yeah, but you were also red from laughing so hard and wiping the tears from your eyes. I don’t think he appreciated that.” Bokuto got quiet and you knew what that meant. “But at the end of the day, the pictures came out amazing. You look amazing.” His smile, although soft compared to his usual grin, came back. “You think so?” You hummed. “If volleyball doesn’t work out, you could be a model. I already know one of my friends has a shrine dedicated to you. Which honestly feels weird, but hey, if it’s harmless why should I care?” you said, going off on a tangent. Bokuto brushed off the compliment that normally would’ve stroked his ego. “Nah, I don’t think I could handle the pressure.” You cocked an eyebrow. “People constantly judging you and criticizing you. You know me, I thrive with praise and…” “Become emo with criticism?” He let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah. I’m trying to change.” You reached over and caressed his cheek. “There’s a difference between growing up and mellowing out and changing who you are. You’ve done the growing up part and you’re slowly mellowing out as much as you can. But please don’t change.” “But people keep saying -” “Forget what they say. I love you the way you are now.” Bokuto’s full grin returned to his face. “I love you more.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ more of a listener he learned his ways from babysitting bo ⇾ he would just enjoy listening to whatever you had on your mind ⇾ one to add his own commentary and thoughts to whatever you were saying ⇾ if he were to talk though, he would reminisce  ⇾ talks of bokuto and his old team, things he misses ⇾ but speaking of bokuto, he would go off on how proud he is seeing his former ace doing so well for himself now - even if he still isn’t a normal player ⇾ depending on how open he’s feeling, he might even wander into his insecurities and childhood, things he doesn’t really open up about unless he feels really close to you

“And then I booked it out of there,” you finished your story. Akaashi hummed. “What about the other girl who was still working?” “Look, she never sticks around to help me when I have extra work, I wasn’t going to stick around to help her.” He cracked a smile at your pettiness. “Wait, didn’t you have lunch with Bokuto today?” “Yes. It was nice.” You waited a moment thinking that Akaashi would add more. “That’s it? It was nice?” “Well, you know how he is. But it was nice to see him trying to change himself. Well, improve himself.” You rolled over from your back onto his chest and reached up to play with his hair. “We talked a lot about playing during high school and what the others are doing these days. Everyone is so busy now, it’s hard to keep up. I’m proud of them.” You didn’t let the smile on Akaashi’s face go unnoticed, commenting on how it always seemed to be there whenever he talked about his former ace. “Leave me alone, I’m happy with how far he’s come on his own. I can’t but smile when I think about the people I love.” “Do you smile when you think about me?” “Of course I do, you idiot,” he replied before kissing your forehead.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ i very strongly believe he would talk about parallel universes ⇾ he would go into the existence of them but also like ‘what if there was a way for people in a parallel universe who could watch me as if my life was a movie’ ⇾ if he was in a more serious mood, like if he had a big match coming up or sum, he would talk more about his goals ⇾ the things he hopes to accomplish in the future, the outcomes he wants in life ⇾ if he was tired, it would be more like akaashi - more listening, less talking ⇾ i feel like he would always want to know what’s happening in your mind so he would ask you the most random questions or just want to listen to you talk as he drifts off to sleep

“Do you think they saw me when I tripped over Leo and dropped the dishes?” You remembered when he tripped over the cat the two of you were raising and ended up breaking a few plates. As annoyed as you were that the plates you like broke, it gave you a reason to go domestic shopping with your boyfriend. You sighed. “No Toshi. If they were watching you, it would be when you’re playing volleyball or taking a shower.” “But you’re in the shower with me sometimes. You think they saw what we were doing?” “If they did,” you started with your eyebrows raised, “I hope they enjoy it as much I do.” He chuckled. “Why when I’m playing volleyball?” “Because that’s your job now. What else would they watch you do? Play with Leo?” He didn’t reply as he looked down to the cat in his lap. Petting it, the two of you sat in silence for a while. You finally thought he dropped the topic as you started to drift to sleep. “I wonder if the people watching like me. Or what if they think I’m the villain?” You sat up in bed. “Why would you think you would be a villain in a show about volleyball?” “I don’t know. I could be a side character that no one likes.” His voice got quieter the more he talked. “Aw, Toshi. I’m sure you have many, many fans in this parallel universe who all wish to be dating you. You never intentionally hurt anyone. You tried, in your own way, to work with Oikawa, but it’s not like you sabotaged him or anything.” He nodded. “He should’ve come to Shiratorizawa. We could’ve been that impressive first year duo instead of Hinata and Kageyama.” You rubbed his shoulder. “I know, baby. You remind me of that at least once a month.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ he would get deep ⇾ talks about his childhood where he was bullied to where he is now ⇾ while he has his insecurities, he would still be very proud of himself and how far he’s come and everything he accomplished ⇾ on the topic of being proud, he would never pass up the opportunity to talk up his bff ushi and he would hype him up even though it’s just the two of you ⇾ he wouldn’t forget about the other third years aka his other ‘best friends’ (i use quotes bc he only has eyes for ushi lezbehonest) ⇾ the talk would shift over to you and how lucky he feels to have found you ⇾ half of the things he would say would just to get you all embarrassed and shy so he could tease you about it

You woke up an hour ago because when you went to snuggle with your boyfriend, his body was missing from bed. For the last hour, he talked to you about how much he’s grown over the years, not once stopping to let you say anything. You finally had enough of this monologue. “Satori, how much more can you possibly say? It’s been a whole ass hour. Get your ass to bed so I can snuggle with you and lemme sleep.” Sighing, he walked away from the window where he was using the light from the moon to set the mood of his speech. Getting into bed, he waited until you were satisfied and closed your eyes. “But also, Wakatoshi has gotten so far on his own. I couldn’t be more proud of my best friend.” “Satori, please. For the love of God.” “Babe, you gotta let me air this out. Good communication and all that.” “We don’t have a single problem that needs to be ‘aired out’ right now. I got work in the morning and you like the sound of your own voice.” That still didn’t stop him. “And Semi, I gotta hand it to him, the man finally learned how to dress properly. And his music isn’t that bad either so I gotta find something new to annoy him with now. Reon is still keeping his fighting spirit alive and playing volleyball too. My friends, all doing so well.” Tendou glanced down at you who had fallen asleep to his heart beats. “But you. I’m the most proud of you. I’m so lucky to have found you. Not that I needed someone in my life at the time, but all the happiness you’ve given me on top of the great things in my life. You’re an amazing person, and I appreciate the impact you’ve made in my life.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ before we start with semisemi, he plays bass and sings in his band but he also plays the piano and guitar (these are MY OWN hcs, none of this is canon) ⇾ that being said, he would stay up late at night playing his guitar, working on songs and quietly singing lyrics to himself ⇾ his talks would be about purpose - like why he’s on this earth similar to hinata ⇾ aha ha ha so if yall read kuroo’s, you know how i feel about scorpios ⇾ semi babe is not safe from that either ⇾ while he is bad at opening up, he also has a short temper so expect apologies for his random outbursts from him ⇾ imma touch on this more in my semi relationship hcs so i shall stop here

You had been on your computer, finishing up some work of yours that you had been procrastinating on with Semi sitting on the couch, strumming his guitar as he worked on a new song. You hadn’t been paying attention the entire time, not until you closed your laptop and sat back in your chair. “Eita, what’s that song?” Your sudden question caused him to jump a little. “Oh, uh, I didn’t realize you were listening.” “I just heard you singing. What is that?” He rubbed the nape of his neck. “I was hoping to hold out until it was finished.” You walked over to him, draping your arms around his shoulders and leaning your weight on him. You read the lyrics he had so far, your eyes growing bigger with each line. “What… is this?” “An apology.” You pulled away from him. “I know I’m not the easiest boyfriend and that when I have a problem, I should say something rather than exploding on you over the littlest thing. I didn’t really know how else to express this without messing it all up.” “I’ve known you for a long time, I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t figure that much out.” “But still, it doesn’t mean that I should just stay this way. I should be growing with you as a person, not stuck how I am. I really do need to learn to express myself better.” You let out a small chuckle. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.” You had. Four times already. “And this will be the last. Thank you for putting up with me.” Your arms wrapped around him once again. “Next time, I expect an entire album with love songs dedicated to me. Got it?” “Well fuck, I better not mess up. I don’t have enough material for an entire love album.” You shoved him. “Hey! Maybe I will leave your sorry ass.” “I’m just kidding! Babe! Where are you going?!”

[justsomefluff]

hello!! i found your blog not so long ago and i already love it so much, i was wondering if (if your request are open) you could do an ateez reaction to their s/o crying/pouting because they(atz) got jealous and they were ignoring their s/o (almost like the hwa reaction to you dancing w/ another member) 🥺 i love your blog so much.. hope your staying safe!!! 🤍

Okay, my sweet anon, this ended up being shorter than I originally wrote it bc it got deleted last time but I think I hit all the important stuff anyway! Also, I appreciate the positivity and I hope you are staying safe as well! <3

Summary: Ateez gets jealous of your conversation with another member. During a group dinner. Since they are feeling neglected, they decide to give you a taste of your own medicine.

Hongjoong:

Okay so Hongjoong is totally calm about his bitterness

Like he’s definitely staring daggers at whichever member you’re talking to

But other than throwing a dirty glance in their direction every once in a while

No one will even be able to notice that he’s remotely upset about anything

I think that he’s probably used to covering his emotions well since he’s the leader and he feels like he needs to be the most mature and stuff

That can lead him to being kind of reserved about his emotions though and that might bug some people

And so when you finally start giving him some attention

He’s gonna turn away from you and just flat out pretend he cant hear you

But when you finally get home at the end of the night and you’re sulking because he hasn’t said a word to you since before dinner

He starts to feel hella guilty

Like he never wants to hurt you but his jealousy really just took control of him that night for some reason

And if you’re making big, sad eyes at him and following him like a puppy as he does his nightly routine…

He’s done for

But I feel like once you actually start having a conversation, he’s very good at keeping it from turning into an argument

Good at “I feel” statements you know?

But both of you recover from this rather quickly and just make it up to each other by snuggling for the rest of the night

Seonghwa:

So Seonghwa is the type to act normal enough that the guys won’t notice that anything is wrong

But you know him well enough to know that he’s being kind of cold to you for some reason

And if you notice he’s being super low-key rude to another member then you can kind of connect the dots and understand why he’s upset

He will never let any of the guys see his anger though

Mostly because he’s the oldest and he feels that responsibility to them to only show them his good side if he can help it

So he will talk to you, but only like one word at a time

And he’ll brush you off if you touch him

But he will disguise it by reaching for food or something

He’s good at this okay

But if you just keep staring at him and the guys notice enough to ask you what’s wrong, then he’ll tell you to fake it til you get home

And you do because you don’t want to upset him more yk

And when you get home though, you’re almost in tears bc hiding it like that was so exhausting and painful

When he sees you starting to break a little, then he’s hugging you

Like .5 seconds to cross the room to get to you okay

Drama Mama Hwa to Protective Boyfriend Hwa that quick

He’ll explain why he was upset and you’ll explain your side as well

And once you’re finished, you’re both calm and forgiving about it

Even if you don’t fully understand each others point of view, you get it enough to let it go

Then you both just pass out together bc emotions are tiring

But you definitely wake up with smiles on your faces the next morning

Yunho:

(this is how he sulks at you okay its adorable, i just wanna give him the world)

this jealous baby

Like did you guys see that video of him and Wooyoung eating cheese tteokbokki like San was just tryna help no need to get your boxers in a bunch sweetie

But anyways, I digress

If he’s jealous, he’s gonna let you know straight out the gate

Like he’ll literally tap you on the shoulder and then act like he did nothing

And at first you’re like aw cute he’s being playful

But really he just wants you to know he’s ignoring you on purpose

Like how dare you not notice that Im ignoring you purposefully… He’s not gonna put in all this effort just for you to not notice okay

And when your brain finally connects those dots its like ugh

But Yunho is easy to break okay

Like the second you pay him even a lick of attention he’s so happy

Its just really hard for him to stay upset

But dammit he’s gonna try his best to keep it up until he thinks you have both neglected each other for an equal amount of time

But both of you are kinda clingy

So even if you both know this won’t last for very long, you still get kinda sad about it

And the second your lip juts out and you’re pouting

He’s smooshing your cheeks and just going “aigooooooo” and babying you and stuff

All the other members are disgusted but they’re just jealous okay I said what I said

Yeosang:

(Kang Yeosang character summary: will ignore you for chicken)

Okay I don’t think Yeosang is the type to ignore you on purpose

He just gets really in his head when he’s jealous and gets quiet

And I feel like we see more of Yeosang’s quiet side rather than his expressive side

So maybe he’s shyer about emotions? Idk this is all speculation anyway

So if he’s in his head, he’s definitely not trying to hurt you or anything

He’s just thinking about everything and feeling neglected and insecure

Poor baby

Like he’s only gonna notice that you’re sad about him ignoring you once youre alone

Bc nothing else can distract him from you aw

And if you’re even the slightest bit teary, all of his insecurities fly out the window

Like all his focus will be on making you feel better

And when you say that you’re upset bc he was ignoring you

He’ll literally be like… you were ignoring me tho???

Also he strikes me as the type to laugh in serious situations so he will deadass burst out laughing 

Like full on cackling

You’re half crying and just staring at him like ??? Wtf???

And he’s like WE IGNORED EACH OTHER HAHAHA

What the hell’s so funny about that you absolute crackhead

But then youre laughing too bc you realize that this entire situation is kind of ridiculous anyway

And both of you get over just like that, and spend the rest of the night giving each other all the love and affection you have to spare

San:

Okay San’s type of jealousy is more aggressive I think

Like not that he’s aggressive towards anyone about, just it impacts him way more than anyone else

So it can really take a toll on your relationship sometimes

But I do feel like, if he’s gonna ignore you, it’s only gonna be while you’re in front of the members

But as soon as you get home, all the emotions are gonna come out at once

Like as soon as you step through the door, word vomit all over the place

And if you’re eyes are glossy too then both of you are gonna end up crying

And neither of you are really sure why you’re crying, you’re just soft babies okay

But I do think that San is more accusatory in these situations

Like a lot of “you did this” instead of “this is how I feel”

So it can start arguments sometimes

This time though, you’re both just emo and soft

Since you’re both a little bit weepy, you’re both just apologizing profusely 

but neither of you really know why you’re sorry

You just are

And no formal resolution is reached because you both fall asleep all cozied up to each other with tears drying on both of your faces

And you wake up in the morning, kind of giggling at each other

All the negativity got washed out of your systems anyway :)

Mingi:

this BABY

he’s jealous but if he ignores you omg

its so hard for him to do

god like he's not even good at it

like he’s ignoring you but still holding your hand??

like how does that work

but anyway, even if you're pouting at him and stuff

he will be the one who ends up crying

like “why did you ignore meee”

and you're like... I didn't even realize I was??

so you decide to tell him what you and the members were talking about

and then all of a sudden, he’s distracted

like “ooh that interesting”

tell me more

or if it was a debate he’ll pick a side and have a full discussion with you

or if he agrees with you, he will playfully diss the other members for being wrong lmao

basically, just distract him and everything will be all set

just don't make a habit of ignoring him bc then he will really feel unloved and no one is allowed to hurt my Minnie

Wooyoung: 

So, Wooyoung is more exaggerated with the way he expresses his emotions

And we all know that I mean we’ve seen it

So when he gets jealous, he feels it in his chest

Then those emotions bubble up and come out in the form of hysterics

So he goes extra crazy for a little bit

Like not showing anger or anything, just being excessively crackheadish

And obviously not giving any of that attention to you

You notice it immediately

Like if he’s super excited, he always gives you most of his attention bc he really wants to share that happiness with you

But if he’s ignoring you, its really obvious

And you really feel the hurt bc its like… he never acts like this normally

So once you get home you’ve pretty much had it

Like your eyes are welling up and he’s just kind of looks at you like “oh nooooooo, I done messed up”

And he’s holding you and apologizing and being sweet and explaining why he did it

Literally swears up and down he will never do it again

Bc when he feels guilty it’s overwhelming for him too

Especially when it comes to you

So you end up snuggling each other the whole night to make up for the time you lost ignoring each other

Jongho:

Jongho is definitely more reserved about his emotions and we see that a lot

I feel like its probably because he’s the youngest and he doesn’t want his hyungs to think he’s immature or incapable of handling his emotions

So he is gonna try to maintain that tough facade in front of his members at all costs

And they won’t really notice if you guys are having problems bc I feel like he tends to keep things about your relationship more private in front of them anyway

So if he’s ignoring you, the other guys will just assume that he’s trying to keep being tough

No one is allowed to see Jongho soft okay

But you will be seeing him turn soft the second he notices that you’re hurting

If he notices that you’re upset when you’re with the guys, he will take you home early

The second you’re alone, protective and soft Jongho combine to form that side of him the guys arent allowed to see

He hates that he’s the reason you’re feeling hurt

Will try literally anything to make you feel better

He is not gonna stop touching you and holding you and babying you all night

Has to be in contact with you in some way or he’ll cry

But either way he’s gonna be the best boyfriend to make up with

Bc he behaves this way after every conflict you have

Forever a sweetheart

[emy-loves-you]

The Prince, The Knight, and The Assassin Chapter One

The Assignment

Inspired by the amazing @kawaiikat54

Here’s the summary I wrote for AO3 bc I’m very proud of it:

Janus has never had a good life, raised to be a perfect assassin for the Dark Kingdom. Even though he hates his life, he follows all of his orders and does what he can to protect his little family. But what happens when he's given an order he can't follow through?

Patton is the Prince of the Light Kingdom. His family sees him as just a pretty face, a bargaining chip for peace between the two Kingdoms. He's given up everything for his Kingdom, even his chance of being happy with the love of his life by being forced into an arranged marriage with the High Queen of the Dark Kingdom. But what happens when he's kidnapped by someone who's lived through more horrors than Patton could ever imagine?

Roman is the personal knight and lover of Prince Patton. At least, he WAS Patton's lover, until they broke up so Patton could marry the High Queen. He hates having to pretend that he no longer feels anything for the Prince. But what happens when Patton disappears in the middle of the night?

What happens when the stars align just right? When a tortured soul refuses to kill? When family and duty are abandoned over love? When pain and anger override all thought? When three men, destined to be apart, fall in love?

Masterlist | Chapter Two

Warnings: Child assassins, child abandonment, I’m pretty sure this counts as child slavery, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, these characters will suffer

Two steps to the left.

Clash!

Feign a jab. Step to the right.

Clang!

Opponent is leaning heavily on his right foot. Most likely hurt his left. Jab near his right, make him lean back on his left. Swipe your leg out from under him-

“Oof!” The small figure fell to the floor, going to roll out of the way only to be stopped by the tip of a sword against his neck.

Janus glanced out of the corner of his eye to see the instructors leaving and relaxed minutely, stepping back. Evaluation over. Must have passed if we're not punished already. He put his sword away and held out his hand for his smaller opponent to grab. "Acknowledging your weaknesses will get you killed. Even if your foot has been crushed to a pulp, you need to put just as much weight on it as you would your right. Ignoring your pain, if only for the few moments of your fight, could be the difference between killing and dying."

His pupil nodded, grabbing the offered hand and pulling himself up. He dusted the dirt off his clothes and followed Janus back to their room, doing much better to hide his injured foot than when they were sparring. The room was small, more comparable to a closet than a bedroom in terms of size. But because of Janus' status, the room only houses three instead of the standard seven, so they wouldn't complain.

His pupil, Virgil, stepped into the room and immediately sat down on his cot, cradling his injured foot. Janus sighed and pried open the moldy floorboards, grabbing the small medkit hidden he’d stolen months ago. Virgil saw the medkit and shook his head "m fine."

Janus frowned, kneeling in front of him. "You obviously aren't, now let me take a look at it." He lightly grabbed Virgil by the calf and carefully removed his sock and shoe. He took note of Virgil's wince as he examined his limb. His foot appeared to be in perfect health, but his ankle was swollen slightly.

Virgil huffed softly, turning away. "See? I'm fine. No use in wasting supplies." He yelped when Janus poked his ankle, trying to jerk back but his leg stuck in Janus' firm grip.

Janus rolled his eyes. "Just let me wrap you up and give you a painkiller, Vee." He grabbed the roll of bandages, not waiting for Virgil’s response as he wrapped his ankle. Virgil huffed and grumbled under his breath.

Knock knock-knock knock

Janus tensed up before he recognized the knock pattern, relaxing. “Come in.” He didn’t bother turning back to look as he meticulously wrapped Virgil’s ankle. He heard the door open and closed followed by a sigh.

“I knew you twisted your ankle yesterday.” The person behind him drawled. “If you had let me tend to it yesterday-”

“Yeah, I know.” Virgil flushed and looked away. “But it felt fine yesterday, and if the supervisors had seen the bandages-”

“It would’ve been a risk we were willing to take.” He finished wrapping his foot and sat up, making deliberate eye contact with Virgil as he spoke. “We would’ve hidden them under your clothes, and if they still somehow saw it I would’ve taken the blame, not you. I’m the only one here with potential access to medical supplies.” Janus was the only one who went on unsupervised missions, the others too young so they were heavily supervised.

Virgil frowned, his gaze flickering to the left half Janus’ face as he remained silent. Janus ignored it, used to people staring at the scar. It started at the inner corner of his eye and trailed just under his cheekbone, ending at his jaw just under his ear. He’d gotten it when he was 8, a warning for hesitating in the middle of a mission. The only reason he wasn’t killed on the spot was that he was a prodigy at what he did.

Janus put the bandages away and searched for some pain medication. “Did your evaluation go well, Lo?”

Logan, or ‘Lo’ as Janus had so eloquently put it, sighed. “They changed the assignment as soon as I arrived in an attempt to throw me off guard. I still managed to pass, if barely.” He knelt down next to Janus, and Janus resisted the urge to frown. They’re being a lot more strict on evaluations now. Have they forgotten that they’re doing this to children? Or maybe they want them to fail so they can be broken down more. Janus mentally shook away the thought as he handed Virgil a pill, trying not to seem too obvious.

Virgil noticed though. He always noticed the little things. “That’s the last pill. We should save it for when we need it.”

Janus shook his head. “I’ll go smuggle some more on my next mission.”

Virgil scooted back, looking away. “I told you I’m fine-”

Logan crawled over to Virgil’s side, grabbing his hand and squeezing. “Just please take the pill, Virgil.” Janus watched as Logan and Virgil stared at each other, their mini battle-of-wills adorable to watch when you ignored the context. Virgil eventually sighed, taking the pill and swallowing without water as Logan rubbed his hand soothingly. Janus watched out of the corner of his eye as he put the medical supplies away, smiling softly at their interaction. It was moments like these that reminded Janus why he kept himself alive, why he kept listening to the High Queen’s demands.

No one in the Dark Kingdom could remember a time before the High Queen’s rule. She ruled the land with an iron fist, though most of the citizens were left unaware of the true horrors that lied behind the castle walls.

Janus was one of those horrors. Raised by birth to do the one thing that he was good at anymore: killing. Janus was an assassin for the High Queen.

“Jan?” Janus looked down at Virgil, snapping himself out of thought. “Are we busy today?”

Janus sighed. “I have to go receive my new mission from her highness at sunset, but you have nothing to do until training tomorrow.”

Virgil nodded and snuggled into Logan’s side, making grabby hands towards Janus. Janus smiled, rolling his eyes fondly as he crawled onto the tiny cot. His two pupils adjusted themselves accordingly, one on each side as they used his shoulders as pillows, their hands linked together over his chest. Janus watched over them as their breathing slowed, their grips on each other and Janus refusing to go slack as they drifted into slumber.

Janus frowned, starting up at the ceiling above him. They didn’t deserve to suffer through this type of life. Hell, if it wasn’t for the High Queen’s order for the older assassins to train the younger ones as mentors, Janus was sure that they wouldn’t have lasted. They were good at what they did, but not good enough for her majesty.

Virgil whimpered softly and Janus was quick to shush him, petting his hair and wiping away his fresh tears. The kid had nightmares almost every night, and Janus learned that it was best for him to just sleep through them. If he woke up there was a chance he would still remember what he dreamed about in the morning, and Janus refused to put him through that.

Janus sighed, his mind going back to the documents he had found and read years ago. It had included information on all of the children operatives in this program. Janus had only read the information on himself and his two pupils, not having much time and deeming the rest irrelevant. Before then, they didn’t even have their real names to go by, just the codenames that the higher-ups gave them.

Virgil, codenamed Widow. Ten years old, will turn eleven near the winter solstice. Was neglected in an orphanage and later ‘donated’ to the Kingdom’s cause at almost four years old. An odd case, especially since operatives were usually initiated at 1-2 years old. Specializes in stealth and poisoning, and can blend in with almost any crowd. Can climb and run quickly, but quite weak in terms of hand-to-hand combat.

Logan, codenamed Sparrow. Turned nine near the spring equinox. Was sold to the castle at 14 months old. A natural prodigy, second only to Deceit, but tends to lose any form of stealth without Widow or Deceit by his side. Prefers to use a throwing knife and call it a day over making it look like a natural death. Is usually partnered with Widow to keep him in check.

Janus, codenamed Deceit. Turned nineteen near the summer solstice. Son of a noble who ‘donated’ him to the cause the moment he was born. First child to be entered into the program, and the oldest one in it. Raised to be the perfect killer. Completes every mission perfectly, other than the instance where he got his scar. The High Queen’s ‘favorite.’ Assigned as Logan’s mentor when he was 11, and Virgil’s a little over a year later. Can kill someone with almost anything, but specializes in swords.

Janus sighed, carding his hands through his pupils’ hair. He saw them as something akin to younger brothers, someone that he needed to watch over and take care of. But that was quickly changing. They were already so big, and Janus was dreading the day that the higher-ups would notice and kill the youthful light in their eyes. They still laughed and smiled, even if it was just in the comfort of their little room. They still cared about eachother and trusted the other to catch them when they fell. They didn’t have the same cynical view on the world that Janus did.

But that wouldn’t last forever. Janus knew they could take care of themselves now, but Janus still dreaded the day they would be forced to do so. The day that Janus was given too big of a task and didn’t come home. The inevitable day that the higher-ups noticed how close they were and started using them against each other.

Janus shook his head. It wouldn’t do good to dwell on such thoughts. He needed to live in the moment while he still had a happy moment to live in.

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

When the sun just started to set along the horizon, Janus carefully pulled himself out from under his pseudo-brothers. They immediately latched onto each other, and Janus smiled softly before schooling his features. He quickly stepped out of the room, ignoring the chilly hallway as he walked through the castle, past the dozens of rooms filled to the brim with child soldiers.

He reached the throne room just as the sun disappeared below the horizon, not bothering to glance around the room as he walked down the familiar path towards the High Queen’s throne. He knelt down at the base of the throne, his gaze down towards the expensive silver-lined shoes in front of him. “Your majesty.”

A hand carded through his hair and he stopped himself from flinching or tensing up, already expecting it to happen. “Deccceit… my preccciousss sssnake…” The hand tugged, not quite harsh but definitely not gentle, and Janus looked up at the High Queen. She reminded Janus of a dragon, her old, wrinkly skin reminding him of dragon scales. She tended to speak softly in low hisses, but Janus was used to straining to hear what she said. “I have a tassssk for you.”

He kept his expression neutral, not showing any emotion as he droned out his response. “Anything for you, my Queen.” He bit back a shudder as she kept carding her fingers through his hair. She had once claimed to see Janus as a son to her, but Janus would never see her as a mother. She was cruel and manipulative, and only saw people as pieces to her own master plan.

“The Light Kingdom hasss deccccided to negotiate peacccce with ussss.” Janus inwardly relaxed, already knowing what she would say. This wasn’t the first time they had tried to negotiate peace, and this wasn’t the first time she had sent Janus out to deal with it. The High Queen didn’t wish for peace, or even to win her battle against the Light Kingdom. No, she craved the violence and war between the two kingdoms, the constant pain and suffering that everyone around her was forced to endure at her expense. So, she would order him to kill the light side’s politicians before they reached the meeting point, make it look like they all disappeared out of thin air-

“They offered the Princccce’sssss hand in exchange for peacccccce.” Janus barely held back his shock. Prince Patton was eighteen, and the only heir to the throne. Either the King and Queen wanted to fully merge the kingdoms (which was highly unlikely) or they weren’t wanting the Prince to rule. But that also left a much more concerning matter at hand. The Queen didn’t want to establish peace, which meant Janus’ task-

“Your tassssk isss to kill the Princcccce.” The hand kept carding through his hair, her voice calm and light, as if she was discussing the weather and not murder. “You’ll leave tonight. I’ll have sssssomeone bring you to the border. The wedding isssss ssssscheduled to occur in two and a half weekssss. I expect to hear about hissssss death long before then.”

He nodded, ice flooding his veins. He had only killed corrupt politicians and men with no morals. He’d never killed someone so young, and the thought made his stomach churn. But he had no choice. “It will be done, my Queen.”

She laughed a cruel wicked laugh and dismissed him to grab his weapons. He left, feeling numb as he traveled through the halls, the task finally sinking in. He had to infiltrate the Light Kingdom’s castle and assassinate the crown prince. An impossible task for most, and highly improbable for Janus. If he was caught or failed his task, he would be killed or worse. And he would never see Logan or Virgil again.

Janus swept into the room, knowing that he didn’t have much time before he had to leave. He packed his weapons and gently shook his charges awake, his dread momentarily paused by their sleepy expressions. “I’m assigned to leave tonight. If everything goes according to plan I’ll be back in less than three weeks.”

The children said nothing as they wrapped themselves around Janus, holding him tight. The fact that he said ‘if everything goes according to plan’ meant that he wasn’t confident about this mission, and they immediately held on for dear life.

He smiled sadly, rubbing their backs soothingly. “I need to leave now. Go back to sleep, you have training in the morning.” He didn’t promise to come back. These were the only two people that Janus swore never to lie to, and he wasn’t going to do it now just to give them a moment of false hope. They soon fell back asleep on the cot, holding each other tighter than before, and Janus slipped out the door and into the night.

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst @kawaiikat54 @artsy-enby09 @irritating-lady-knight @girl-who-reads @larrymalecsolangelo

[getsojaded]

chemistry || calum hood

word count: 3.8k+

warnings: mentions of weed, swear words, mention of injury, food & the slightest bit of sex talk

a/n: hey twt moots ;)) anyways, this is inspired by this post! i hope u all enjoy <3

-

It was about 11 pm, and I had just finished taking an unnecessarily large amount of notes for chemistry class. With a sore, shaky hand and a vision that was starting to go blurry, I had finally finished ten pages. Who knew that there was so much information about 5 organic compounds?

I yawned in my seat, stretching my arms out and removing my glasses. I was more than thankful that I can call it a night, and walked towards my bathroom to get ready for bed, which took a good 30 minutes. It usually doesn’t take me that long, but fuck, I was exhausted this whole day. After all my skincare was completed, I walked back to my bedroom and hopped into my bed, prepared for a well deserved rest. After slouching for a good three and a half hours, comforter and pillows had never felt so good against my body. 

Just as I was about to fall asleep, I heard a loud ding! from my phone and I opened my heavy eyes, which immediately annoyed me. I ignored the first one and tried to go back to sleep, but one ding turned into six and I couldn’t take it anymore. I angrily ripped the covers off my body, sitting up right after reaching for my phone on the nightstand beside my bed.

6 New Text Messages from: calum hood

hey wyd rn

can you do me a favour

i need your help

im at this party right now and i’m about to get high as fuck but i forgot about our homework for tomorrow and i was wondering if you could do them for me

you don’t even need to make them look pretty like how you do it just take down the important shit

please

“What the fuck?” I whsipered to myself as I looked at my phone. “Who does this bitch think he is?”

to: calum hood

are you fucking serious right now

from: calum hood

please i’m really sorry LOL i completely forgot about it

i know your smarty pants finished it the second you got home please

i’ll literally buy you starbucks tomorrow morning

As much as I hated to admit it, his last text message kind of convinced me. I was a sucker for coffee, and could really stop spending money on it every morning. But was I really about to lose some more sleep just to do the party boy’s notes? I barely know this kid anyways. How’d this guy even get into college? 

to: calum hood

is it gonna be a venti

from: calum hood:

if that’s what you want, sure

I knew I was going to regret this decision, but I threw on my glasses and put my hair up once again, walking towards my desk. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I sighed out, opening my laptop and gathering my supplies together. I unlocked my phone, seeing that the time was 12 am. Am I doing this for coffee or am I doing this because he’s attractive and I couldn’t really say no to him? I groaned and leaned my head on my desk, texting him back.

to: calum hood

i hate you so much

get me a venti iced white mocha no whip and an extra espresso shot

actually no make that two extra espresso shots cause bc of your dumbass im staying up 

from: calum hood

i gotchu angel

thank you so much, see you tomorrow :)

“Fuck off with the petname and the smiley face,” I angrily cursed at my phone, picking up my pencil and beginning to write another ten pages of notes. 

“I hate this bitch,” I said, throwing my pencil onto my desk and slamming my laptop shut. The time was now 3:45 am and tired was an understatement for me. I crawled into bed, falling asleep almost immediatly, hoping that these 5 hours of sleep will give me enough energy to get through class tomorrow.

-

“You have got to be fucking joking me,” I mumbled, reaching over for my phone to turn off the alarm. I was definitely not a morning person, and the fact that I didn’t get at least 7 hours of sleep meant that I was not going to be in a good mood today.

I slowly crawled out of bed and began trudging towards my bathroom, seeing I had gotten a text meesage from the man himself. I rolled my eyes seeing his name pop up, opening the conversation between him and I.

from: calum hood

goodmorning!

to: calum hood

fuck off

I set my phone aside, getting ready for bed in the slowest way possible. I honestly could care less about what I looked like today, so I decided on a hoodie and sweatpants. I went back into my room and packed my bag with everything I needed, including Calum’s stupid study notes. I threw it over my shoulder, putting on my shoes and walking out the front door, into my car. Thankfully my college was not too far from my apartment, so it didn’t matter if I was running a couple of minutes late.

Parking my car and walking towards class, more and more annoyance filled my body, hoping that nobody would say a word to me, or even better, look in my direction. As I walked into the classroom, I walked towards the empty seats in the very back, choosing the one closest to the wall. I got settled into my seat, leaning the side of my head against the wall, hoping that I’d get the tiniest bit of extra rest.

“The last text message you sent to me wasn’t very nice.” I heard a voice beside me say. I opened my eyes and looked up, seeing the stupid Calum Hood. He was holding two cups of coffee - one for me, and one for him I’m assuming - and was wearing a maroon hoodie, which he actually looked really good in.

“I don’t think you deserve to have a nice goodmorning text, because you are the reason I’m in a pissy mood today, thank you very much.” I responded, taking my coffee from his hand and placing it on my desk. I reached into my bag and took the study notes I wrote for him, slapping it onto the desk beside me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as our professor began to speak up, indicating that class had begun. “What can I do in order for you not to be mad at me?” I turned to look at him. He had the biggest pouty face I had ever seen, which was absolutely adorable. But I’d never tell him that.

“Just shut up.” I sighed, turning back towards the board, opening my notebook and beginning to take notes. 

Not even ten minutes later, a green sticky note caught my eye as I was writing. My eyes gazed towards the sticky note, scoffing at what was written on it.

Pls forgive me :(

I turned towards Calum, who was currently well focused on the board in front of us. I lightly chuckled, knowing he was more than pretending to actually pay attention in this class.

I thought I told you to shut up, I wrote underneath his writing and stuck it back onto his desk, and continued from where I left off. I got maybe 5 words in before I saw the neon green appear back onto my desk. I can’t shut up if I’m not talking.

I rolled my eyes before crumbling the paper in my hand, looking at Calum once again. “You’re distracting me. What do you want?” I asked him, the brunette boy turning his head to me once again. 

“For you not to be mad at me.” He responded. “What can I do for you to at least smile at me? Besides telling me to shut up.” 

I stared at him with the bitchiest face I could put on, then rolled my eyes and began to take down more notes in my book. First, he makes me write ten pages for him and now he’s distracting me in class. Can he leave me alone for at least five minutes? 

“And now you’re not gonna talk to me. Fine, be that way.” He grunted. The two of went back to what to we were doing for the remainder of class.

-

“That’s all for today folks, I hope you have a good rest of your day and don’t forget to read pages thirty to thirty-five and finish questions one to twenty-seven.” Our professor said to all of the class, which resulted in me grabbing my bag and standing up immediately, wanting nothing more than to just get the fuck out of this place.

Please don’t talk to me please don’t talk to me please don’t talk to me-

“Hey wait,” Calum said and grabbed my hand. 

Fuck

“Yes?” I asked him, turning my body towards him as he let go of my hand. 

“What’re you doing the rest of the day?” 

“Nothing, why..?”

I saw that Calum had the cheekiest grin on his face after I gave him my answer. “As an apology for making you write down my notes, thank you very much by the way, along with making you angry this whole morning, how about we go get breakfast on me, and we can do our homework together, except I will do all the work, and you just copy my answers? How does that sound?”

I thought about it. One part of me just wanted to flip him off, go back home and get the sleep I missed out on last night. The other part of me was actually kind of down for that idea. Free food, free homework answers and I get to hang out with pretty boy? I wasn’t really losing anything here, huh? 

“I mean, I would say yes, but I took my car here and also I’m dressed terribly right now, the last thing I need is for more people to see me looking like this..” I trailed off, looking down at my current outfit and laughing lightly. “Babe, you don’t even look bad whatsoever right now. However, if you insist, you can go home and change and I can come get you when you’re ready. Is that a plan?” He asked in response. First angel, now babe? What is this guy doing?

“I mean.. I could do that...but-” “Pleeaaasee?” Calum cut me off, pressing his hands together, acting as if he was praying. 

“Ugh, fine, I’ll go with you! I’ll go home and get ready, and I’ll text you when I’m done.” I responded as the both of us walked out of the classroom, towards the parking lot. 

“Pinky promise you won’t cancel on me last minute?” Calum asked, extending his arm and putting his pinky in front of me as we reached my car. I hadn’t even noticed that he walked me to my car, which honestly made my heart flutter when I realized. 

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed lightly, taking my pinky and sticking it out with his, interlocking it. “Pinky promises mean everything, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.” He responded, winking at me then walking away. Getting into my car, I hit my steering wheel, squealing while I repeatedly hit my head against my wheel. “Fuckin’ angel, babe and sweetheart?! What’s next?” I asked myself, driving back to my place to get ready for this little study.. session? Hang out? Date? 

I never noticed how nervous I was to hang out with Calum until four different outfits were placed on my bed, with no ability to choose which one looked best. “Fuck, these are all terrible.” I groaned, flopping onto my bed and closing my eyes. I was interrupted by my phone ringing, seeing that Calum was calling.

“I know you pinky promised that you wouldn’t cancel on me, but angel what is taking so long?” He asked, laughing into his question. “I’m so sorry,” I groaned, getting back up and looking at the outfits I planned on my bed. “I’m having a little wardrobe crisis. I have zero idea what to wear.”

“You could’ve showed up in the hoodie and sweatpants and I’d still find you gorgeous,” He responded, making my heart flutter for what felt like the hundreth time today. This man throws small compliments left and right and it’s kind of driving me crazy. “But lemme see what you got planned out. I’ll make it easier for you.” I responded with an okay, quickly snapping a photo of the clothes that were currently on my bed. 

“Okay first off, none of these are bad at all. I think you could’ve chose any of these and rocked all of ‘em. Second, little shirt big pants is always the way to go. I say the second one.” He told me, choosing a white long sleeved shirt and the baggiest light wash jeans I had in my closet. It might’ve been basic, but Calum was right - you really can’t go wrong with a little shirt big pants combination. 

“Okay, thank you.” I sighed in relief, taking the clothes into my hands and walking into the washroom to change. “You can come now, I’ll text you my address. I’ll probably be done by the time you get here.” 

“Now was that so hard?” He asked in response, causing the both of us to laugh. “I’ll see you in a bit. Bye bye!” 

“Bye Calum, see you later.” And with that the call ended. I quickly changed into my clothes, put my laptop in my bag - along with everything else I needed - and slipped my shoes on. Once I finished doing so, I heard a loud honk outside, indicating that he was outside. 

Walking out of my house I saw Calum exiting his seat, walking over to the other side and opening the door for me. “Wow, what a gentleman.” I laughed as he closed my door and got into the drivers’ side once again. “You look great.” He told me, his eyes focused on my outfit. “All thanks to you.” I said nervously, as he started the car. “Where are we going again?” I asked him. 

“You can never go wrong with IHOP,”  He said proudly, with a wide grin on his face. “How’d you know I loved going there?” I asked him, gaining a chuckle from him in response. “Not sure if you knew this, but I’m a mindreader.” He joked, causing me to roll my eyes and laugh in response. 

Arriving at the place and ordering our food, Calum and I began to have a little conversation. It started off with an are you still mad at me? which resulted into talks about other classes, finals and parties. 

“You’re telling me you’ve never been to a party?” He asked in shock, me shaking my head as I took a sip of the water that was given to me. “Are you kidding me? We’ve been in college for what, two years, and you’ve never been to one?!”

“Yeah, in case you didn’t notice, I go to school to learn and not to party. I don’t ask people to take ten pages of notes for me so I could blaze up, unlike somebody I know,” I responded, Calum looking at me in disbelief. “I cannot believe you just called me out like that. I said I was sorry!” 

“Yeah yeah, I know. You’re making up for it with free food and free homework answers, so I decided to get over it.” I responded, laughing. “Also, when are we gonna start doing the questions?” I asked as the waiter came with both of our plates of food, thanking them as we began to eat. 

“I mean, we could go back to my place and work on it, if that’s alright with you.” Calum said, his mouth full of pancakes. “Is that your way of trying to get in my pants?” I asked jokingly. 

“You’re a fiesty one aren’t you?” He asked, with a simple nod from me in response. “Well to answer your question, no that is not my way of doing such a thing, I’d be much more smooth about it.” 

“Oh, so you think you’re slick or something?” “Nah babe, I know I’m slick.” There’s the cocky party boy that I was much more familiar with. I rolled my eyes in response.

“I’m gonna ignore what you just said.. Anyways, I am fine with working on it at your place.” I told him, getting a nod in response. Throughout the whole breakfast, we got to know each other quite well. I learned that he played soccer in highschool, but due to a torn ACL he had to quit. But because of that, he got into music and started playing the guitar. I told him that if there’s enough free time when we finished, he should play me something. He happily agreed to it, saying that I will fall in love with him after I hear his singing. I just roll my eyes at his cocky compliments about himself. 

I also got to hear his totally wild college parties that he goes to, telling me about this one time one of his friends’ houses got shut down due to the various noise complaints from neighbours down the block. “you should come join me in one”, He offers, with a “fuck no” in response from me. 

“C’mon, they’re not that bad. They’re actually really fun, and everybody’s always so nice.” 

“I literally can’t tell you the last time I got high, and the last time I got drunk it was not pretty, I’m retired from that shit.” I said, as he paid for our food and began walking back to his car.

“Oh, so you used to be rowdy?” He asked, the two of us laughing in unison. “High school me was a different story, we don’t talk about that.” I responded. “The things I would do to see that side of you. You gotta go to at least one before you get outta this place. They take a lot of stress off your shoulders for the night.” He told me as we walked towards the front door to his place, which made me laugh at the fact that he tried to make parties seem like a really good thing. A simple Maybe, was all I responded with as we got settled into his apartment, which was fairly clean to my surprise. 

We were currently sitting across each other at his dining table, the both of us reading over the textbook and him answering the questions after every section. He worked effeciently, which also took me by surprise. I underestimated this guy a lot, didn’t I?

A good two hours later, Calum had finished all the questions for homework and I had finished copying them down, thanking him for doing such a thing.

“It’s no problem. I had no idea that the notes were ten fucking pages long, you deserve a break after that- wait, you wear glasses?” He asked me, analyzing them.

“Yeah, only at home though. I don’t really like how they look on me,” I replied, taking them off and rubbing my eyes. He took them in his hands and put them back on me, smiling. “They look really cute on you, I like them.” He said, causing me to blush. “What’re you so flirty for?” I asked. Keep these compliments up and I might just fall in love with you before you even sing, I thought to myself.

“Well, with somebody as pretty as you, I gotta slip in a flirty remark every chance I get, eh?” He smirked, taking my hand, and taking the both of upstairs. “Don’t take this the wrong way, my guitars in my room.” He reassured me as we walked inside his room. He took the guitar from the side of his room, and sat on the edge of his bed, gesturing me to sit down next to him.

“Ready to fall in love with me?”

“Try me, Hood.” 

He chuckled, playing the intro to Sam Smith’s Leave Your Lover. “Holy shit, I love this song,” I whispered, watching his hands strum the guitar.

He began to sing, immediately amazed by his voice. It was so soft and raspy, I literally could listen to it all day. I closed my eyes, leaning my head on his shoulder. He laughed softly when he noticed, continuing on with the song. 

He finished playing the outro, which caused me to open my eyes and look up at him. “So, how was that?” 

“It was beautiful, your voice is so pretty.” I responded, smiling at him. “You should drop outta this whole college thing and just become famous.”

“Oh man I wish, but I think it’s too late for that.” He told me, now leaning on my shoulder, which made me want to scream and kiss him. “Did you fall in love with me yet?”

I patted his cheek with my hand lightly. “Not yet Cal, not yet. Stil kinda angry about that whole ten pages of notes thing.” 

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nah.”

He laughed, then took my hand and intertwined it with his, rubbing circles on it with his thumb. “What if I told you I’d be down to do this again, minus the whole ‘let me do this for you today as an apology’ thing?” He questioned, lifting his head from my shoulder and looking at me.

“What do you mean, ‘this again’?”

“I mean picking you up with a coffee before class, bothering you the whole time, getting breakfast with you afterwards, studying together, and then playing a song for you once we get too lazy to finish our assignments.” He replied with a soft smile that made my heart warm and my cheeks red.

“And what if I told you that I’d be down to do those things aswell?” 

“Well then my love, I will pick you up on Wednesday at 8:15 with a venti iced white mocha with only one extra shot of espresso, because I won’t keep you up to write more notes. After class, I’ll take us to any place you wanna go. Denny’s? IHOP? Waffle House? You name it. Then, we can go back to my place, study our asses off and then I can play you as many songs as you’d like. How does that sound?” He offered, the biggest smile appearing on my face.

“That sounds perfect.”

“Now if we’re going to be doing this... does this mean I can finally take you to a damn party?”

“Fuck off, Hood.”