#MAYBE I JUST NEED AN EXCUSE TO DRAW BOMBER JACKETS???

[avianii]

okokok guys

hear me out

Top Gun. But WW2.

[shreddedparchment]

Colocataire Pt.01

The Push and Pull

06/26/2019

Pairing: Thor x Reader x Steve          Word Count: 7,653

Prompt: Colocataire - Roommate

Masterpost     Warnings: Polyamory, sexual tension, fluff, smidge of angst, language, violence

A/N: This is the first of a two part series for @cametobuyplums ‘s writing challenge. I had initially intended for it to be a one shot but as always, these challenges are always demanding more attention. I hope you all like it. I had a lot of fun writing this first bit and it’ll only get better. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Edit: I can’t believe I completely forgot to credit the amazing @youngmoneymilla for reading the beginning innards of this piece for me and giving me some great input.

Several thoughts float through your mind as your apartment door shuts behind you.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end and your grandma’s old warning echoes around in your brain.

“Don’t trust anyone and always be aware of your surroundings. The world is out to get you, sweetheart. Never forget it.”

You reach for your pepper spray but before you can plunge your hand into the depths of your purse, your living room light flares on.

You blink hard against the brightness, distraught. You draw in a deep breath and prepare to scream when a calming female voice interrupts you.

“Don’t yell. Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.” She says.

You recognize that voice, but you’ve only ever heard it over the phone.

The first time you'd heard it you’d been a kid. Almost a baby still, only four years old, when this oddly husky voice had been slightly reedier.

She’d been young too. Older than you but still young. Malleable.

“N-Natasha?” You stutter, too startled to do more than croak at her.

“Hey, Y/N. Long time no see.” She says, a smile in her voice.

As your eyes focus, you see her clearly. She’s wearing a pair of plain light blue jeans. A light blue tank top underneath a form fitting gray leather jacket. It’s all topped with the same licorice red hair you remember her having as a child.

How it is that she can walk so silently in her sneakers when your own have a tendency to squeak against your dark chocolate wooden floor, you cannot comprehend.

“Why are you here?” You ask, forgetting your manners. “I mean, no. That’s not what I mean. Sorry, I’m just-”

“Surprised to see me?” She offers.

“Yeah.” You half-laugh. “Yes. Very. How’ve you been?”

You relax, peel off your own black jacket and hang it by the door before dropping your purse off on the small table nearby.

“Oh, you know. Living the life.” She grins, hands shoved into her pockets as she looks away from you to walk back towards the seat on your sofa she’d chosen and risen from when you walked in.

“You’re still with the Avengers.” You say, as if she doesn’t know that herself.

“I am.” She watches you with green apple eyes as you move to take a seat on the opposite end of the couch. You kick your shoes off and stretch your toes.

Wearing heels sucks but you work in a pretty nice office.

“And you’re-?”

“Still working nine to five.” You smile at her. “Boring as ever."

“Good.” And she does look happy for you.

She turns herself sideways, hiking up her knee onto the cushion while resting her right arm across the back.

Neither of you says anything for a minute and you look down at your feet, stretch out your legs and lean down to massage the red welts where your shoes had dug into the sides of your feet.

“So, what do you need? You never visit.” You’re not angry or hurt. Just knowing.

Nat had reached out one day several years ago. Checking up on the kid who’d escaped the Red Room Academy.

No ballet for you. No blood on your hands either. You’d been plucked by an angel and saved from enrollment.

Lucky.

“Sorry I didn’t message you this month.” She leans towards you, placing her hand on the center cushion.

You smile and then chuckle, amused.

“I figured you were just busy. I don’t mean to sound offended if that’s what I sounded like. I just…what do you need Nat?” The two of you had grown close over time so she doesn’t take offense with your tone.

“I’m that transparent, huh?”

“No. Not transparent, you’ve just never come to visit. Never mind letting yourself in.” You point out, glancing at the locks on your door.

If she can get in, who else can? You suddenly have the need to upgrade your locks.

“I do need a favor.” She sits back, relaxing into the arm of your sofa as you bring your attention back to her.

“Will this require a long explanation? I’m starving.”

“No, but please, make yourself some dinner. Don’t mind me.” She nods towards your kitchen, hands shoved between her knees as she lifts the other leg up onto the sofa.

“Okay.” You give her a smile then reach over to give her knee a squeeze before kicking your shoes aside.

You pull down on the zipper of your skirt and step out of it as you step into your room.

“So, what’s this favor?” You probe, slipping into a pair of ripped gray sweats.

Pulling on a simple red tank to go with it, you wander back into the living room where Nat is now laying on the sofa staring up at your ceiling. You follow her gaze and smile, stopping at the edge of the sofa by her head with your hands on your hips.

She points up at the ceiling and smiles at you, upside down.

“When’d you do that?” She asks, and you shrug your shoulders.

“Almost as soon as I moved in? They’re in every room of the house. Even the bathroom.” You admire the non-illuminated stars.

There are small ones and medium and great big ones carefully spread out along the ceiling. They’re not in any particular constellations or formations. You just filled it up until it looked like the night sky.

“I like it.” She states, gazing fondly at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars.

“What’s the favor?” You ask, chuckling lightly as you gather your hair up at the top of your head in a messy bun.

“You’re not gonna like it.”

You freeze with your hand on the fridge door and frown at her from across the room.

“It’s work related?” Her work, of course. Not yours.

“Yes. But don’t worry, you won’t need to go out into the field or anything. I just need to borrow your place, if you’ll let us use it?” She wonders, propping herself up onto her elbows to look at you.

“Us?” Nat and Clint maybe? You’d met Clint. “Why do you need my apartment?”

Nat had sent him to check up on you when you hadn’t messaged her back, but you’d only broken your phone and procrastinated on getting a new one. He’d been nice.

Hot. Married. Damn it.

“It’ll only be for a few months. There’s—well, I can’t tell you too much without breaking confidentiality but someone’s making bombs and using them all over town.” Nat begins.

“The Late-Night Bomber?!” You ask, very interested.

You’ve been terrified of being out at night thanks to this crazy idiot. Regular bombs are scary enough, but this jerk is using alien tech.

“The one all over the news?” You continue.

“Yeah.” Nat nods, getting to her feet then stretching her arms over her head.

You observe her lithe form and wish you had the dedication to make your body look like hers.

“Why here?” You wonder.

“The bombs are originating from somewhere in this neighborhood. But we don’t know exactly where.” She smacks the right corner of her lips, a look of disappointment overtaking her beautiful face.

“What?!” You squeak, even more afraid than you were before.

“Yeah. That’s why I was wondering if we could-”

“Yes!” You cut her off, charging towards her with a spatula smeared in tomato sauce. “Yes. Come! Please!”

“Okay.” Nat chuckles, finding amusement in your fear. “Great. Thanks.”

If the Late-Night Bomber is in your neighborhood, having Nat and Clint around is a must.

The heavy knock on your door startles you.

You’ve been on edge since Nat came over and told you about that psycho living in your neighborhood.

Chewing on your lower lip, pulling at the small chapped skin on the left, you put your book down and with a small gulp, move for the door.

You’re still wearing your ratty gray sweats. A white fitted tee on top.

Nat knows what you look like in those sweats and Clint is married so…you’re not trying to impress anyone.

Then you open your front door and your heart nearly hammers itself out of your chest.

You have never, in your life, had your jaw drop. You have never, in your life, felt like your heart was both exploding and burning. You have never, in your life, coveted anyone the way you are suddenly coveting the tall, wide, long haired blonde standing before you.

His wide shoulders are what you see because he’s turned around, talking to another tall blonde. This one has short hair. A neat cut. Clean shaven face.

His storm blue eyes do things to you that you have also never felt before.

Woah. Is all you can think because this much good-looking should not be in one room all at one time.

If you were more dramatic. You might have fainted.

The golden blonde with the shorter hair nudges the slightly taller dirtier blonde with his elbow and he turns.

“Hi.” The shorter blonde says. “You must be Y/N. I’m-”

“C-Captain America.” You stutter. Not cool, loser. “I mean, Steve. Rogers, right?”

“Yeah.” He says, then he gives you a stupidly cute smile. “Nice to meet you.”

You smile back, unable to help yourself. “Hi.”

Then you look up at the taller blonde but he’s staring at you with his mouth open and you’re suddenly wondering why.

You look down at yourself and feel your cheeks burn as you realize that you’re WAY underdressed to meet guys this hot.

Shit.

“Oh-I…excuse me.” You turn and hurry towards the hallway.

“Wait!” Captain America says but you don’t stop.

You move fast, rushing to be out of their sight while also grabbing your cell as you pass the chair you’d been sitting in.

Once you’re in your room, you pull open your drawers and search them one handed while you dial Natasha’s number with the other.

You sandwich the device with your left shoulder and ear while simultaneously sliding out of your ratty sweats.

Ring, ring. Ring, ring.

“Come on, Nat. Pick up the damn phone.” You grumble.

Finally managing to step out of your pants, you kick them away towards your hamper as the phone clicks.

“Hey, hold on. I’ll call you back.” Nat says, the sound of gunfire in the background.

“No, Nat!” You shout but she hangs up. You grab the phone in both hands and squeeze it, trembling hands of fury as you mentally strangle her. “Fffffffuck!”

“Hey, is everything alright?” Captain America’s voice drifts in muffled through your door.

It startles you and you jump again.

“Oh, uh, yes! Yes. Everything’s fine. Just…have a seat. Make your-yourselves at home. I’ll be right out.” You turn back towards your drawers, drop your phone on top, then pull out a pair of wrinkled old jeans and slide those on.

“Okay.” Cap replies, sounding unconvinced.

Buzz! Buzz-buzz!

Your phone moves a half an inch towards you as it vibrates, and you yank it up to your ear.

“Nat!” You whisper-shout, quick glance towards your bedroom door.

“Hey. Sorry about that. You kinda caught me mid-heist. What’s up? Everything okay?” There’s still the distant sound of gunshots from her end of the line and for one moment you consider hanging up. “Y/N?”

“Why aren’t you here?” You demand as quietly as possible while you reach down to do up your zipper and button.

“Oh.” She laughs. She laughs?! “I guess the guys are there.”

“Nat, when you told me that you needed to use the apartment, you said it would be you and Clint.” You move to the edge of your bed and plop yourself down, left hand nervously gripping your knee.

“No, I didn’t.” She says, amusement still turning her voice.

“Yes. You did.”

“No. Shit. Hold on.” Four gunshots, loud. Close. A grunt. Then a deep sigh. “I never said that me and Clint were the two that would be staying.”

“Oh my God, Nat. You said, us and us has always been you and Clint.” You explain passionately.

“Us. The Avengers. That’s what I meant. I’m sorry if you misunderstood. What’s the problem? Are they being rude?” The way she asks, she makes it sound as if she’ll scold them.

“No.” You assure her, uncomfortable. Shifting from side to side on the mattress. “No. They’re not being rude. They—they haven’t even been able to speak much yet.”

“Then?” Nat waits. When a minute passes you hear her exasperated sigh. “Y/N? What’s the problem?”

“I just—I thought it was going to be you and Clint so I just kinda opened the door.” You sweep your hand as if you’re pulling the door open again. “In my sweats. My hair all…I look like…”

Nat is suddenly laughing on the other end.

“Nat.” You growl, embarrassed.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Steve and Thor are not there to date. They’ll stay out of your way. You stay out of theirs. It’ll be like they’re not even there. Besides, I don’t think you’re exactly their type.”

You don’t know why but this offends you. Is she calling you ugly? You’re not…you know what you look like, but Nat had always seemed so open.

“Oh.” Your insecurity seeps through to your tone and she picks up on it quickly.

“No, Y/N. That’s not what I meant. You’re just very normal. Thor dated an astrophysicist. Steve dated an ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and current C.I.A. operative. You’re just a little…?”

“Unimpressive?” You supply.

Nat sighs. “They’d be lucky to have someone like you. But as I said, they’re not there to date. They’re professionals, Y/N. They wouldn’t do that. I promise.”

Nat had been right of course. Steve and Thor were professionals.

When they were on watch.

When they weren’t, they were eating your fridge clean. Leaving their clothes all over the place. And taking up space on your couch.

“Who made coffee and didn’t clean the pot? There’s mold in here now.” You growl.

“I’m sorry. That was me. I’ll wash it now.” Thor rises to his feet, but you shoot him a glare.

“Don’t bother. I’m already doing it.” You pile the pot beside the other dirty dishes and then move towards your favorite armchair.

“Thor, is this your shirt?” Thor, who had casually laid himself back down on the sofa, looks up over the edge of the Rubik’s Cube he’s been fiddling with all week.

It’s halfway solved but he keeps messing it up.

“No. That’s Cap’s.”

“Oh.” You fold it and try not to like how soft it is or the smell of light crisp fragrance that wafts up towards you from it.

God, they both smell so damn good.

Thor’s wearing normal clothes here. You have yet to see him in his uniform since he arrived. Almost a month and he’s still wearing mostly hoodies, t-shirts, and jeans.

And he looks good. All the time.

“Why do you call him Cap? Do you always call him that?” He laughs at you, big goofy smile as his electric sapphire eyes sparkle.

“What? Of course not. I know his name. We’re friends.” He says.

“So, what is it?”

“What’s what?” He goes back to his Rubik’s cube, brow knit, smile still plastered over his ridiculous pink lips.

They peek out from his scruffy beard, begging for kisses but you shove that thought away too.

They’re your roommates for all intents and purposes and they treat you like…well, you’re not exactly sure what they treat you like. Not like someone they’re interested in. Steve hardly pays you any mind.

“His name, Thor. What’s Cap’s name?” You clarify, holding Steve’s shirt against your chest as Thor stares up at your plastic stars.

“They’re out here too?” He asks, sitting up suddenly, tossing the Rubik’s Cube aside.

“Huh?”

“The stars.” He points at them and he’s so tall he can reach up and trace one of them when you’d had to balance on a chair on your tiptoes to place them.

“Oh. Yeah.” You watch him admire the sight before he races for the light switch and turns them all off.

He then hurries to all the windows and pulls down the blinds plunging the both of you into darkness.

“Thor!” You complain, unable to see almost anything.

As your eyes adjust, you see the vague black shadow of your furniture and a much larger mass moving around the room towards you. The shadow is looking up.

You move your eyes upwards and see what he sees. Your apartment’s ceiling is suddenly the night sky and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s not real. You know it isn’t. You sometimes forget that they’re there though and when you see them again after letting them slip from your mind, they take your breath away.

“They’re beautiful. I stare up at the ones in my room before I go to sleep every night.” Thor tells you from somewhere in the darkness to your left.

You walk towards the sound of his voice but bump into the TV stand.

“Ow.”

“Careful.” He tells you from where the sofa should be. “Come over here.”

“This would be easier if the lights were on.” You mutter.

“But then we wouldn’t see the stars.” The yearning in his voice is real and you wonder what must have put it there.

“Well, I can’t see. It’s dark. I don’t have your eyes.” You complain.

“My eyes? What do my eyes have to do with anything?” His deep confusion is ridiculous. Stupid God.

“Oh, I don’t know. Can you see? Do those Godly peepers of yours let you see in the dark?”

“Peepers?” He asks, confused for a moment by the slang. “Sort of.”

“Well, I can’t see jack shit.” Dummy.

He chuckles. It’s deep and it rumbles out from his chest. You like it.

“What are you laughing at?” You whine.

“You’ll hurt yourself if you keep moving that way. Here. Follow my voice.” He coaxes you, soft and gentle.

“Can’t we just turn on the lights?” You sigh, moving towards the last spot you’d heard his deep timber.

“No. I like the stars.” And his voice is close. You adjust a little to your left.

“Watch it, the coffee table is there. Here, a little to your right. You can walk between your armchair and the table.” He says.

“This way?” You ask, looking up at the stars on the ceiling and wishing you’d laid them out in constellations so that you’d know them like a real map of the stars.

You reach out, holding your hand in front of you to see if you might hit something first but instead hot fingers intertwine with your own.

Freezing, you stop walking but try to memorize the way Thor’s fingers feel around yours. It’s not like he’s guiding you. He’s seriously just holding your hand.

Fingers laced through yours.

The tension in the room becomes so thick you could cut it. What kind of tension?

You blink, swallow, nervously as more heat finds your chest.

“I’ve got you.” He whispers, and his breath wafts down on you.

You could lean up. You know where his lips would be.

“Come.” He says, and his hand pulls you down.

You can hear him shifting and shuffling in front of you, then his hands are on your hips and you’re breathless.

“Thor?”

“Lay down with me. Let’s watch the stars.” He begs. His fingers shift over the soft, cotton dress you’d put on this morning to meet a friend from the office for lunch.

“I can’t see.” You whisper, nerves on edge and burning.

His large hands trace your hips down along the outside of your thighs until they find your knees and he pulls them towards himself.

The sensation of falling is terrifying in the pitch black, but he catches you. His arms are wrapped around you, underneath your own arms, and very slowly he lowers you until your knees are on the ground.

He’s already sitting, you realize. You shift to his left and sit down too.

“Wait.” He says, a rush of his scent washes over you, fresh rain, wet soil, clean spring air, with a bite of bitter ozone, numbing your senses to everything but him. “Here.”

He places his hands on your shoulders and very slowly leads you down onto the floor. He’s only guiding you, so you don’t get too excited.

When your head hits a pillow, you laugh. “Thanks.”

How considerate.

“You’re welcome.” You can hear the smile in his voice as he settles in beside you to your right. Your sofa on your left.

“You really like my stars that much?” You wonder, staring up at the pretty patterns.

“I do. They remind me of home. Before it was destroyed. Cap told me that they are made of plastic? With bio-luminescent paint?” He wonders, his breath wafting towards you again.

He’s so close you can feel his arm grazing against yours, his fingers probably within reach.

“Something like that. I’ve never been curious enough to really find out what they’re made of.” You look towards where his head should be. “So, are you ever going to answer my question?”

“What question?” He asks, and his hot breath is on your lips and you might just go ahead and faint.

Thor is so close that he’s whispering and still sounds as loud and clear as when he greets you everyday with a cheerful good morning despite the bird’s nest on your head and the grumpy scowl you wear until you have your coffee and breakfast.

“What’s Cap’s name?” You whisper back.

“Oh. That. Uh…well, of course, because he and I are such close friends—Stefan. Of course, I know that.” He brags so uncertain that he must know he’s wrong.

It makes you smile, and you grin up at him despite not being able to see him.

“Stefan? Are you sure you don’t mean Steven?” You ask.

“That, yes. That’s what I said.” He assures you.

“No one calls him Steven.” You whisper, desperately wanting to laugh.

“Of course not. They call him Steve.” Well, color you impressed. “Steve Dodgers.”

“What?!” You exclaim, already laughing.

“What? Is that not it?” He asks, laughing now too. It’s a low chuckle, rising in pitch at the end that tickles your belly with flutters. “Lodgers?”

You laugh harder. It makes your knees fold up as you clutch at your stomach with your left arm.

Suddenly, your right hand is wrapped in warmth and those large fingers are interlacing with yours again.

It startles your heart into a fast thrum, but your laugh dies into a chuckle as you let your fingers curl around Thor’s too.

“I’ll help you with the dishes.” He says, and that nearly makes you twist towards him. It makes you want to mount him, but you lean up towards the breath he’s breathing towards you.

“Okay.” You reply, excited and scared but oh, so eager. “Can we do it in a little bit? The dishes I mean?”

When he speaks, his voice is so close, he might as well just be speaking into your mouth. “Your wish is my command…my princess.”

Oh, God, you’re going to pounce him. He’s a goner.

As the two of you lean towards each other, the rattling of keys and the door pry the two of you apart.

You sit up, surprised by the intrusion. You’re on your feet and just before the lights flare on, you quickly shake your hand out of Thor’s.

Steve freezes with his hand still on the switch as he watches you and the awkward way you move to the side in quick small steps, back towards the armchair where you’d dropped his folded shirt.

“You’re back.” You gasp.

“Uh…yeah.” Steve says, picking up on that tense thick atmosphere you’d noticed when the lights were shut off.

“Did you find anything?” Thor asks, still sitting on the floor but leaning on top of the coffee table.

“No.” Steve sighs and shuts the door. He moves toward the kitchen counter and drops off a large brown paper bag you hadn’t noticed he was holding. “I got some stuff for dinner though. Steaks sound good?”

“Oh, Odin, bless him. He’s got meat.” Thor rattles as he gets to his feet and moves towards the kitchen.

“You just ate.” You remind him, remembering the four sandwiches he’d devoured not an hour ago.

He turns and shrugs at you, a lopsided smile on those lips that you’d nearly kissed. Fuck, that timing.

“Well, I can’t cook for shit, so unless you want blackened steaks, I suggest someone else take over.” Steve says, knowing himself well enough.

“I can-” You begin but Thor cuts you off.

“I’ve got this. You have never had steak until you have had it made by a true Asgardian chef.” Thor brags, clapping his hands and removing his hoodie.

It pulls up on his t-shirt and you see the golden glimpse of his tight back before he’s pulling his dark blue t-shirt down.

“Thor, you burned the grilled cheese.” You remind him.

He doesn’t look at you.

“Well, that was merely a mistake. I promise you, my p-” He looks up at Steve who’s staring deep into the paper bag as he pulls the groceries out, to see if he’s hearing this slip as it happens but Steve seems unaware. “-panicky friend. That will not happen again. I was distracted last time.”

Thor saves himself but your heart is pounding, and you don’t know why he’s not willing to say that again in front of Steve. Maybe because it isn’t supposed to be happening?

This sucks.

“I don’t know that I’m hungry.” You tell him, the shift of melancholy in your voice.

He notices and he turns to look at you, his blue eyes full of bright reassurance. Whether it’s for his cooking or what just happened in the dark, you’re not sure.

What you are sure of is that falling for one of these sudden roommates wasn’t something you’d been expecting.

As Thor turns back towards the counter, Steve turns to look at you. He gives you a small sheepish smile. It raises goosebumps on your skin and the flutter in your stomach from Thor’s hand rushes up to make your heart tumble.

Falling for both of your roommates? Odin help you.

“Steve, you don’t have to do that. I can manage.” The awkwardness of trying to keep your distance as he snakes your drain is palpable.

Gross. What if he pulls out a massive wad of your hair?

You wring your hands, tapping the toe of your sneaker against the light cream-colored tile of your bathroom floor.

“Steve…” You worry.

“Hold on. I’ve almost…” A grunt. “Got it.”

Okay. That’s enough. “Seriously, you should stop. I’ve been snaking my own drain for years now. I’m an expert.”

You move towards him, shoving yourself between him and the wall that he’s got his arm propped against. Your tub sits at an angle in the back corner of your bathroom and he has to lean in to get to the drain in the back center.

You reach for the snaking tool with your right hand as he adjusts his hold on the wall with his left.

“Wait, Y/N. Don’t.” He looks worried as you lean in. “It’s wet, let me just get up.”

“I got it. Just let me do it.”

“Hold on.” He says sternly.

“Steve…” You protest.

Then your hand slips against the bottom of the tub and your body falls down towards the painful ceramic.

You don’t even scream as your body is flung. You shut your eyes tight and wait for the painful stab of the tub’s edge against your ribs but instead find your chest pressed against a harder muscled one.

Arms curled in against your own, you keep your eyes closed, knowing very well that you’ve managed to damsel in distress your way into Steve’s stupidly strong embrace.

“You okay?” He asks, worry thick. “I told you to wait. Why didn’t you just wait?”

You don’t speak. You’re too embarrassed.

“Y/N?” Steve asks, more worry seeping through. “Did you hit yourself somewhere?”

“No.” You utter.

“Wha-then, are you okay?” He asks again.

“No.” You groan.

“What’s the matter?” He pulls you up, somehow getting you both on level footing again with his sheer upper body strength.

Opening your eyes, you try not to look down at the wide expanse of his chest and shoulders. They stretch the heather gray fabric of his t-shirt and you’re already battling with the urge to run your hands up along his strong pectorals on a daily basis.

“Nothing. I’m just a klutz.” You sigh.

Steve sighs too. With relief? “Oh.”

There’s a small huff of hot air. He’s laughing at you.

“I mean, I could have told you that after the first week of staying here with you. Didn’t think it would take three months being around a Super Soldier to make you realize it.” He sounds assuredly cocky, despite his usual straight-cut demeanor.

“You’re teasing me?” You demand, surprised, but pleasantly so.

“No.” He promises, shaking his head. “No. I’m just—okay, maybe I am teasing you a little.” He laughs, a real laugh.

“Jerk.” You reach out and push him, hand lingering just a bit too long against the left side of his chest.

“Sorry.” He chuckles, reaching up to take hold of your hand.

Something like electricity charges the air as his hand closes around yours, cupping the back of it when you leave it there.

“Are you?” It doesn’t sound like he’s sorry. He sounds like he’s having fun.

He shakes his head. “Not really.” And laughs again.

You renew the push to his shoulder, and he trails his hand down your forearm to your elbow, the pressure bending it so that it brings you closer.

The two of you go silent again. You stare into his storm blue gaze, trying to understand the blue-fire within them.

“You’ve been kind of on a fixing kick with all the little broken things in the apartment.” First the light in the dining room.

Then the doorbell. The window that doesn’t open in the living room. One of the coffee table legs. Testing the smoke alarms. Waxing the wooden floors. Repairing some tile on your bathroom floor and the guest bathroom. Snaking both drains. Polishing all the fixtures. What’s he doing?

“Your landlord doesn’t come by often enough.” Steve’s right too.

You’ve never once seen your landlord to fix things in the few years you’ve lived here.

“I usually do them myself.” You tell him.

“I don’t doubt that you can. I just wanted to help. I live here too, you know?” He says, tenor voice burrowing its way into your chest hollow.

“I hadn’t noticed, what with you being gone so much this month.” You’ve missed him. His presence around the apartment.

Thor has also been gone a lot this month and after that incident two months ago with your stars, Thor hasn’t shone any kind of interest. No more my princess and you’re desperate to hear it again.

Clearly whatever had happened that night had been a one-time thing. Caught up in the stars maybe because he’s shown no sign of interest since.

“I know.” Steve says, pulling you out of your thoughts of Thor. “Sorry. We’ve been tracing the bomber upstate. Then back down and back up. He’s moving but we’re not sure why.”

You don’t want to talk about the Late-Night Bomber. He’s killed so many people and the thought of him in your building or the next building or the building across the street, it drives you up the wall with worry.

Feeling safe with Steve and Thor has become somewhat of a habit and now that they’ve been spending so much time out of your apartment, your fear has rushed back to the forefront.

“What if he shows up one day?” Your intention is not to pull any sort of reaction from Steve. It’s a genuine question. “And you’re not here?”

You’re truly afraid. Helpless in a way that you’d never thought would matter.

“That won’t happen.” Steve insists, suddenly yanking you closer. His hand curves around your waist, fingers digging deep into the tissues of your back.

“You can’t be sure.” You tell him.

“Y/N…” He starts, but you don’t want to talk about the bomber!

“So, listen,” You press on, intent on forgetting the danger. “Since you’re in a handyman type of mood, do you think you could come back into my room?”

“Why?” He asks, curious but his hand gets tighter. You gasp, so quiet that no one but Steve can hear it.

He’ll probably be able to hear the pounding of your heart too. Is it giving you away?

“Do you have something in there that needs tending to?” The meaning of his words is laced with double entendre and you blink your eyes shut to focus.

You’re suddenly aching and pooling in all the right and wrong places. Damn this man and the other one too.

RING! RING-RING!

Both of you jump and Steve drops his arm. You race around him towards your bathroom counter and stare with muted aggression at the name on the screen. With a swipe of your finger, you answer the phone and press it to your ear.

“Hey, Nat.” You turn around and hop up onto the counter, crossing your legs tight and shoving your fisted hand over the crotch of your pants.

There’s nothing to see there, but you’re very aware of what’s underneath.

Steve crosses into your eye line and you stare at him as he moves to stand beside you, washing his hands in the sink. Slowly.

He’s watching you. His storm blue eyes curious and penetrating.

“Hey. You okay? You sound weird.” Stupid spy.

“Yes. I’m fine.” You assure her.

“Good. Everything going okay with tweedledee and tweedledum?”  Her voice is knowing but not in the way you’re expecting.

She sounds like she’s asking you about two mischievous boys. Young ones. Brothers. Not these two Adonis men walking around your apartment.

“Yeah. We’re good. Steve’s actually helping me out around the apartment as we speak. He just snaked my drain.” You say, fully aware of the way it sounds.

Steve’s eyebrows slowly shoot up on his forehead, hand washing forgotten.

All you can do is stare at him.

“That’s good! They’re actually helping? We can’t get them to do anything back on the compound.”

“Yeah. I’ll have to thank him for being so good to me.” You say, lowering your tone.

You’d be lying if you said that despite Thor’s reservations since the almost kiss, you and Steve haven’t been sharing lingering looks. The shy boy is endearing but it’s those long stares he gives you across the dining table or when you look up from your book while you sit in your favorite armchair and meet his eye from where he sits on the couch.

It’s inquisitive and probing. Never explicitly full of desire but sometimes there’s a lick to his lips and you have to look away or leave the room because your neck suddenly burns like lava.

Living with Steve is not easy. Living with Thor feels more and more like torture.

They’re so good to you now. They clean up after themselves when they see you come home exhausted. Thor makes breakfast almost every day. Steve brings you new books and Thor asks you endless questions about nothing and everything.

Your favorite nights—the ones that hurt but also feel so good—are the ones when you shut off the living room lights and while Steve runs his surveillance of the neighborhood through a small crack in the blinds, you lay on your sofa, Thor lays on the floor beside you. And all three of you talk and gaze at your indoor stars.

Today is much harder than any other day because as you tell Nat that you’ll have to thank your roomie, he places his hand on the inside of your left knee.

Your mouth parts, a small soundless gasp escaping as he trails that hand up along the inside of your thigh.

Where is this coming from but also, why hasn’t it happened already?!

Nat had said you weren’t their type. Maybe not Thor’s now, since he’s backed off, but Steve?

“Who are you talking to?” Clint’s voice is immediately recognizable and maybe you would have jumped at the chance to tell him hi, but right now, you’re too distracted.

Steve’s fingers tickle the exposed flesh of your leg. His tips slowly press into the bottom hem of your jean shorts.

“Y/N. Anyway,-”

“Tell her I said, hi.” Clint says.

“I’m sure she can hear you, dummy.” Nat replies.

“Hi, Y/N!”

“Hi, Clint.” You manage as Steve’s fingers push up high underneath that left short leg.

“Anyway, I gotta go. I’ll be by next month to check up on you and make sure those boys aren’t driving you crazy. Okay?”

“O-okay.” You stutter.

“Bye!” Nat finally releases you and you mumble something that sounds like ‘bye’ but then you’re putting the phone on the counter beside you.

You reach out and grab hold of Steve’s t-shirt by the neck and make to pull him towards you as his hand claws into your skin when you hear the sound of the front door.

“Hello?” Thor booms, still in the living room. “I’m home. Anyone here?”

You have a terrible, horrible, no good life.

“Yeah.” Steve says, pulling his hand back. “We’re in the bathroom.”

He moves back towards the tub and doesn’t spare you another glance as you’re left to writhe and wonder why your luck seems to run out right at this very moment.

Both damn times.

“In here?” Thor asks, as he enters your bedroom then makes for your bathroom.

When he sees you perched on the counter, he smiles, blue eyes twinkling. “Hello.”

“Hey.” You reply, wishing your heart would make up its mind.

Steve or Thor, stupid. Can’t be both.

Thor moves towards you and places both hands on the counter by your legs on either side.

He leans in and kisses your cheek, leaving a searing burn as he pulls back to look at Steve.

“What are you doing?” He asks, curious as he goes to join him.

“Snaking the drain.”

“Whating the what?” He asks, and Steve smiles.

“Snaking the drain. Here, I’ll show you.”

Left to sit on the counter, stewing in your Steve created arousal and Thor heartache, you can’t help but wonder, why not both?

“What exactly is the point of this game?” Thor wonders, setting his pair of deuces aside.

“The point is to get rid of all of your cards first. The last person to lose all of their cards loses the game.” You explain for what feels like the tenth time.

“You got any fours?” Steve asks Thor, sparing a glance out the window to his left.

Always on the watch, your Captain. Wait. My Captain?

“No.” Thor says, fiddling with his card order.

“No, Thor!” You whine, leaning over towards him with your cards held close to your chest.

“Oh, right. Sorry. Go fishing." He says it like he’s insulting Steve and it makes you chuckle.

You plop yourself down on the table, pleasantly exasperated, as Thor watches you and smiles. It’s so flirty and sweet that your heart gives a little ache.

It’s been four months since the incident in the dark and he still hasn’t done anything other than give you an occasional chaste kiss on the cheek.

“What? That’s what I say, right?” He asks, looking at Steve.

Steve is also smiling, eyes trained on his cards.

“It’s ‘go fish' not ‘go fishing'.” He explains and as you straighten up, Thor gives a small somber pout.

“Oh. Then go fish. I have no fours.” He looks up at you and smiles again, soft subtle curve to those bristling pink lips. “Do you have any threes?”

Does his beard tickle when it’s kissed?

His smile widens as he watches you stare.

Your ears burn but you smile back at him bashfully. Being caught staring at his lips is nothing new.

“Go fish.” You chuckle, bite your bottom lip then turn your eyes on Steve.

You find him watching the two of you with a small pucker between his eyes.

The look wipes away all the flirtatious flutters Thor just gave you, filling your tummy up with knots.

“Um…do you have any eights?” You ask him and Steve just stares.

When the silence becomes unbearable--Thor's eyes are glued to his cards the entire time—you breathe in slowly.

“Steve?” And release it in a nervous huff.

He opens his mouth to reply, when a loud piercing explosion shakes the room.

BOOM!

You scream, cards flying up in the air as you clamp your hands over your ears.

You’re still frozen while Steve and Thor push their chairs back away from the table, cards forgotten as Steve races for his shield by your desk. Thor holds out his hand and his axe flies towards him.

As it makes contact with his skin, his body is engulfed by harmless—to you—sizzling electricity that stands the small hairs on the back of your neck on end and bathes you in soothing heat.

“Your gun, Y/N.” Steve says sternly as he heads towards the front door. “Stay in your room.”

Despite his order, you’re still not moving. A million things could have happened to cause that explosion but something tells you that what you’ve been fearing would happen has finally happened.

The Late-Night Bomber is done with this neighborhood and is making an example of it. Maybe he caught onto Thor and Steve’s scent?

Thor’s large hand closes around your bicep and he pulls you out of your seat. He’s gentle but firm. The urgency in his movements scares you.

“Go, my princess,” He whispers, so low that Steve won’t hear him. “Find your weapon and stay out of harm’s way. We will return for you shortly. Go.”

As he pushes you towards the hallway you turn to watch him disappear through your front door behind Steve. His words had woken you back up and now more than ever you hate to see him and Steve go.

You do as you’re told.

You hurry into your bedroom and shove your hands into the space between your mattress and the box spring until they find sleek cold metal.

The gun is a small nine-millimeter Beretta and Steve chose it specifically for you because of its small size and low recoil. He’d show up one day with it nestled in a small silver metal case, kissed your head, and told you to keep it close.

“Stay safe.” He always says when he leaves. Today he forgot to say it.

Settling into the faded baby blue armchair in the corner of your room, you sit with your feet propped up on the seat. You use your knees to aim your gun at the door and urge your hands to still.

Waiting sucks. Waiting for something to happen. Anything. Waiting for your boys to come back.

Nat had sounded sisterly when she spoke of them. You see them as much more than that. Even if nothing has happened…

Please, let me get out of this so that something can happen.

If they don’t want to make the first move. You’ll have to. But who?

Your ears go into overdrive, trying to catch the sounds of the building around you.

There’s screaming, children crying. The sounds of running. You hear rumbles of thunder in the distance but you’re not sure where Thor might be. He sounds like he’s far away.

If Thor isn’t nearby, is Steve?

The sounds of sirens get closer and closer, grating your fearful nerves.

Something like acid begins to burn in your gut.

Half an hour passes and the longer you’re away from Steve and Thor, the worse this feeling gets.

An instinct pulls at you from the center of your chest. As the sounds of the world go eerily silent, no more screaming, no more sirens, no sounds of Thor, you let that instinct lead you towards the bathroom. You climb into your tub and sit yourself on the far end, facing the door with your gun once again aimed at the entrance.

The smaller confined space gives you some comfort. Not much. Some.

The floor around you begins to shake. The quaking moves the small glass jars of Q-tips and cotton swabs on your counter. Your compact slides along the surface as it rattles then falls and the mirror shatters as it pops open. The small pictures you’d had hung up in your room, the one of you Thor and Steve casually sitting on your sofa beside each other but deliberately not touching probably falls and breaks along with the others.

This mist be what a mild earthquake feels like.

The rumbling stops.

Your breathing grows ragged as your fear reaches up to choke you as that bitter instinct warns you that it’s not over.

You’re about to scream when your restroom explodes around you.

BOOM!

Everything is dust and particles, flying debris, crumbling structure, flying broken tile, smoke, and heat more terrifying than anything you’ve ever felt.

You don’t wanna die.

The ash polluted air keeps you from drawing in more than a ragged, rattling breath. The oxygen burns out of your lungs and then something heavy falls over you. You flatten yourself into your tub as best you can, but your arm is caught, and you desperately pull the memory of two pairs of eyes.

Electric and Storm blue eyes are the last thing you see as your world turns black.

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[bbk-writes]

Notes: approximately 3k words of Alec turning 30, and Magnus giving him an absolutely bonkers gift because hey, the love of his life conquering an entire decade deserves nothing less. 

When Alec turned twenty-six, Magnus had taken him to Amsterdam for a weekend of debauchery that took Alec all of the subsequent week to recover from. Every time Magnus had thought that maybe he should pull the plug on it, another round of tequila shots appeared out of nowhere and Alec would take immense pleasure in pressing a wet, decadent kiss to Magnus’ wrist before dashing it with salt. The way Magnus’ blood lit on fire each time had been animalistic. Being married to Alec hadn’t lessened how much Magnus wanted to do terrible things to him, but being pressed together by a crush of tourists and locals under the pulsing lights – it was something else. Alec had been something else when they’d finally stumbled back to their hotel room. Magnus almost can’t believe those two days even happened, the whole thing seemingly from a particularly lush, depraved fantasy someone pulled from Magnus’ mind and made into reality.

But that was when Alec was twenty-six. When they were newly settling into Alicante, settling into their new jobs, and consciously settling into this shared life with each other.

At thirty, things are very, very different.

Taking care of two young children is the kind of responsibility that doesn’t allow for impromptu getaways. The two of them still have numerous much-needed date nights, but Alec’s birthday isn’t one of them: all birthdays are family events. The look on Alec’s face when he has waffles brought to bed by a solemn Rafael and a cheerful Max toddling beside him is a gift to Magnus in ways he can’t quite articulate. Seeing Alec draw them close, press kisses tenderly to their temples. Catching Magnus’ gaze over the top of the boys’ heads, mouthing, thank you, for something that Magnus never needs gratitude from Alec for, not when it’s his due.

Presents were next, followed by a portal to New York for lunch with the Lightwoods (though they’d call it breakfast), and then back in Alicante with ample time before dinner so the boys could take naps. In that stillness that can only happen with both the kids passed out, Alec pulls Magnus close under the warm afternoon sun and kisses him with slow, deliberate intent.

It’s not just the two of them again until past ten in the evening.

Raf wants a very specific story tonight in his mother tongue, and Magnus curls up beside him and reads until Raf’s sound asleep. By the time Magnus gently extricates himself from Raf’s bony limbs and makes his way to their bedroom, Alec has already showered and changed into his sleep clothes. He’s settled comfortably on the bed – scrolling through his phone with his back against the headboard, bare feet crossed at the ankles – and looks up when he hears Magnus open the door.

The sight of him in their bed, bathed in warm golden light, is such a comfort that Magnus feels the rigid hold he’s held around his exhaustion abruptly vanish. It’s how it’s supposed to be in a sanctuary, when to the depths of his bones Magnus knows it’s safe to be this way.

“Hey,” Alec greets, putting aside his phone. The way Alec’s body relaxes, moves just so as though to create a welcoming space for Magnus – well. Magnus doesn’t hesitate to take what’s being offered, crawling over their duvet and collapsing against his side.

“You got the easy one today,” Magnus complains into Alec’s shoulder.

“Magnus, Max is never the easy one.”

“That’s what I was banking on, but clearly tonight’s the exception that proves the rule.”

Alec takes Magnus’ hands between his own and starts to slowly twist the rings off.

“Raf was grumpy tonight?” he asks, and Magnus looks away from the strangely mesmerizing sight of Alec’s fingers at work to focus on his question.

“Not exactly..."

It would be easy to play it off as that and grumble out some more playful complaints, but there’s something terribly sweet about Raf that makes it impossible for Magnus to tease him the way he can tease Max without blinking an eye. That Magnus sees Raf, at five, as a little person is part of it, a person who has had a hard life in the blink of time he’s been on this Earth. That he’s also quiet and gentle and wide-eyed with this fragile trust he has with them is another.

Magnus sighs as Alec takes off the last of the rings, depositing them on the bedside table. He then moves on to unclasp Magnus’ watch.

“No,” he says at last. “No, he wasn’t grumpy. He’s just – he just had a hard time falling asleep and didn’t want to be alone.”

“D’you think one of us should stay with him? Camp out on the floor for the night?”

“No, no, I don’t think that’s necessary. I think he was a little overwhelmed after all the rushing around today. New York and keeping up with the constant barrage of attention from his aunts and uncles and grandma left him a bit wired, maybe.  Reading together helped – he seemed fine by the time he fell asleep.”

“Well, of course,” says Alec, matter-of-fact. “How better to feel safe and settled than with his papa, the most powerful man in Alicante?”

“Oh, stop.”

This must be the millionth time Alec’s said something like this, but that doesn’t stop Magnus from being hit with a swell of fondness each time. A tiny reminder of the kind of man Magnus joined his life with: sweet, a little playful, never pulling short with his affection and Magnus doesn’t know if he’s the most powerful person in Alicante, but he’s definitely the most blessed.

Magnus shakes himself out of it. He really is becoming a sentimental old man if a throwaway joke from Alec is all he needs to get like this. But it’s Alec’s birthday, and Magnus has spent all day and every day that preceded unable to think of anything else but this: I love you he thinks, and says it by pressing a kiss to the corner of Alec’s mouth.

“I still haven’t given you your birthday present,” Magnus murmurs, fingers curling into Alec’s hair.

“You can give it to me right now,” says Alec, and it takes just one look at his grinning face for Magnus to understand what he’s talking about.

“I mean your other birthday present. One that isn’t just my body. Which you have access to everyday, might I remind you–”

“Shouldn’t you be happy that I’m so – what’s the term–”

“Goal-oriented?” suggests Magnus, and laughs when Alec gives him a flat look.

“I was going to say, low maintenance.”;

“Maybe sometimes I want to maintain you more,” says Magnus without really thinking about it, even though there’s nothing about that sentence that makes sense and yet Alec seems to understand exactly what Magnus had meant to say. That little bit of mischief in Alec’s eyes soften into something else entirely. It’s a look that still has Magnus want to look away sometimes, the weight of that tenderness almost too much to bear.

They say that you never get used to sunsets no matter how many thousands you see. It must be the same when it comes to Alexander: not his handsomeness, exactly, but how the secrets of his uncommonly loving heart are so clearly etched in the lines of his lovely, beloved face.

“You’re sweet,” says Alec. “And whatever this gift is, you know I’m gonna love it.”

“And just so there aren’t any misunderstandings,” clarifies Magnus, “I’m also planning on performing extremely depraved acts on your body tonight.”

“Oh, good.”

Glancing at his watch Magnus mutters, “If only your parabatai would just get himself over here–”

Thathas Alec immediately pulling back.

“Uh,” he says, giving Magnus a suspicious glance. “Why exactly would Jace be coming here at eleven at night?”

“Because your present is outside the apartment,” says Magnus. “And we can’t just leave the kids here unsupervised.”

“Is that the real reason why he portaled to Alicante with us?”

“Yes,” says Magnus, and just then the wards let him know that Jace entered the building. “Oh, perfect, he’s here. You don’t have to change, but put on some shoes and a sweater, will you?”

Magnus presses one more kiss to Alec’s mouth and swings off the bed, suddenly full of anticipatory energy. In the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter when exactly he shows this to Alec, and yet it’s of the utmost importance for Magnus to have it be today.

Alec bewilderedly follows his instructions, looking back and forth between Magnus and, somewhat longingly, the rumpled, golden sheets of their bed. For a man who’s ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice, Alexander has never managed to shake off the indulgence of staying in bed whenever he has the opportunity to.

“I’m ready,” says Alec. His hair’s rumpled and he’s got his bomber jacket on, which means he looks devastatingly sexy even with his soft cotton pajama pants and terrible summer sandals. “What exactly should I be expecting?”

“Ah, it’ll be easier to show you.”

-

To Alec’s credit, he doesn’t seem apprehensive to have to step through a portal and into a forest in the middle of the night. Mostly he looks intrigued, his overall bemusement fading as his eyes become more alert, looking around curiously at the tightly packed trees. The moon is bright above them, and streams of light fall through the dense canopy of leaves.

“Where are we?” Alec asks. He starts to walk when Magnus takes his hand and gently tugs him forward, navigating through the thick branches.

“In Brocelind Forest, near the Swiss border. Maybe a mile or so from the Alps.”

“A mile,” repeats Alec. He keeps his voice soft as to not disturb the stillness around them. Magnus doesn’t have to see his face to know that he’s smiling. “When d’you think you’re going to start using kilometers like the rest of the country?”

“Am I really hearing this from a born and bred New Yorker?” Magnus whispers back.

“Excuse me, you know that I was born in–”

“Being a New Yorker isn’t about citizenship, Alexander. It’s about a certain mindset. An attitude, if you will. How you see the world and engage with it. And trust me when I say that you? Are a New Yorker.”

As he says this, Magnus pushes the last of the branches aside to step out of the dense forestry and Alec’s retort catches at the tip of his tongue as he sees what’s waiting on the other side.

There’s not a single gift Magnus has ever given Alec that hadn’t been received with gratitude and enthusiasm, no matter how extravagant or how subtle. And yet Magnus’ heart is fluttering like a hummingbird. This isn’t a typical gift. There’s a reason he wanted to show this to Alec privately, even though they can come back in the morning with the kids.  

The grassy earth has given way to the rocky shores of a lake. The lake, under the shadow of the mountains, vast and dark and majestic. The still, endlessly deep water reflects the perfect full circle moon. The night sky is visible in all its glory now that they’ve cleared the forest, and each and every pinprick of a million, ten million stars is visible above, spilled carelessly and in abundance across the endless black.

Magnus has seen this exact view numerous times during the last year and still the sight never fails to weigh down on him, make his knees want to buckle. It’s immense, it’s beautiful.

It’s only right that it’s Alec’s.

“Wow,” is Alec’s short, succinct response. Magnus releases his breath, relieved. Alec looks dazed as he lets go of Magnus’ hand to step further toward the lake, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. “Magnus… this is incredible.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

Alec walks closer to the shoreline and carefully reaches down to pick up one of the smooth stones. He is still Alec, the most beloved person in Magnus’ universe, still in his gray pajama pants and a battered jacket – but kneeling at the edge of the water and glowing pale under the night’s light, Alec could be a spectre, the spirit guardian of the lake.

There are still traces of astonishment, of marvel, on Alec’s face when he starts back toward Magnus.

“Thank you for showing this to me.” Alec’s eyes are wide, bright with wonder and gratitude. The hazel of his irises only a thin ring around his blown pupil. Dilated as they try to soak in the faint traces of light. “I didn’t know there was a place like this in Brocelind Forest. It’s not in any of the maps.”

“Yes,” says Magnus. “It wouldn’t be.”

“How’d you find it?”

Magnus uncharacteristically finds himself playing with his wedding band as Alec often does, the only ring Alec hadn’t carefully eased off his fingers earlier.

“I didn’t,” he says. “I made it.”

Alec’s expression gently slides into one of puzzlement. “What d’you mean?”

“It’s not every day the love of my life clears a decade.”

Alec’s close enough now for Magnus to smooth away the wrinkle between Alec’s brows with his thumb. His other hand comes to rest above Alexander’s chest.

“You know that feeling you had when you stepped out here, like you couldn’t believe something so stunning could exist?” Alec doesn’t look away from Magnus as he slowly nods in response to Magnus’ question. “And there was a pressure on your chest, right here,” says Magnus, tapping his hand above Alec’s heart. “Because seeing the universe unfold above you is too big. Makes you feel too small, like you’ll be crushed under the weight of it. Makes you think, what am I when faced with the reality of this?”

“Yes,” Alec’s response is so quiet Magnus barely catches a wisp of it, despite them standing only inches apart. There’s something changing in the lines of Alec’s face – the slow dawn of understanding, right at the cusp of midnight. “Magnus–”

“That’s how I feel every time I look at you,” murmurs Magnus. “And that’s how every person who stands at the shore of Alexander Lake will feel when they look out over the water, or look up toward the sky.”

Alec looks disbelieving. He still doesn’t look away from Magnus.

“I cleared the grounds with my magic. I dug the basin into the earth, I carved the path which flows the water in from the Rhine.” Magnus takes Alec’s face in his hands. “I know every inch of this land, Alexander. I had to, to make it perfect for you.”

And Alec kisses him.

Alec kisses him with the kind of force and desire that almost knocks Magnus off his feet. A kiss that burns through him, serves as just one more of countless instances that Alec’s left him breathless with the profound, undeniable reality of his unparalleled heart and how he thrusts it into Magnus’ hands repeatedly, without hesitation. A kiss that makes it easy to understand why Magnus would go ahead and do something that would have them change all the textbooks, the maps, the composition of the country, that had the natural history museum send to Magnus a draft write-up for review: Alexander Lake is not part of the natural formation of Idris. It was created over the course of three years by Magnus Lightwood-Bane, the first and current High Warlock of Alicante, as a gift for his husband, Alexander Lightwood-Bane. The lake was finished in the year 2022 and meticulous efforts were taken by Lightwood-Bane, the City of Alicante, and the inhabitants of Brocelind Forest to ensure the preservation of the surrounding ecosystems...

Magnus pulls Alec toward the treeline, the ground turning into grass and soil instead of unyielding rock. Alec’s hands grip Magnus’ shoulders the whole time. Every sound out of Alec is swallowed up eagerly, greedily by Magnus’ mouth. Magnus hits the trunk of a tree but he barely notices how the rough bark digs into his back – all he can perceive is Alexander, the press of his lips, the lines of his body against Magnus’ own.

“I love you,” says Alec against Magnus’ mouth, his chin, his neck. Down Magnus’ chest. “By God, Magnus – I love you.”

There is something raw, untethered in the manner in which the two of them become one, their bodies burning hot even amidst the cool autumn night air. Gripping the cold grass in his hands, the prickle of fallen leaves against his feet, the hardened earth beneath them. These words Alec presses into every inch of Magnus’ skin – the truth of them is woven into the fabric of Magnus’ universe. It’s what makes Alec the sun, leaving behind every other star light years in the dust: his devotion to Magnus burns so bright that there’s no room for any doubts.

He is a permanent part of Magnus, seared into Magnus’ very soul. And now Alexander will be a permanent part of the world as well. It will outlast Alec’s fragile, radiant mortal life. It will outlast even Magnus, which is only fitting. For as long as the Rhine flows and the earth spins, love for Alexander will exist.

-

-

End notes: This was originally going to be the kick-off for a larger split-POV story re: the immortality/mortality debacle. 

The working title for this fic was: Crossroads. 

The working summary was: Alec turns thirty, Magnus turns maudlin, and the two of them have a long awaited conversation about their future. 

[gb-fics]

Art Class - Tuesday (2)

AU Fanfiction:

Kiryuuin Shou x Kyan Yutaka (Golden Bomber)

Note: Read Monday. Also, this chapter is kind of long, just be prepared before you start :D

Shou tried to suppress a yawn and stared at the sketch he was working on. It did not look like a trash bin yet. It did not look like anything from this universe yet. Shou doubted that it ever would.

He fought down another yawn and thought that it would be a good idea to let in fresh air into the classroom. Today, it was sunny outside. The first real day of spring. Shou was not that big a fan of the outside, but he’d much rather be out there right now than having to draw under the watchful eyes of Utahiroba Sensei.

The atmosphere in the room felt dense. Everyone seemed tired and not in the mood for chatting.

“Sensei!”, Yutaka shouted.

He spoke so loudly, Shou nearly dropped his pencil at the sound of it.

Up until now, Yutaka had been surprisingly quiet compared to yesterday. Shou had figured that it took him about one to two hours to fully wake up. If Yutaka was awake now, all Shou could do, was pray to the gods.

“Yes?”, Utahiroba Sensei asked. He sounded wary, as if he assumed that Yutaka was plotting something. He probably was.

“I wondered if me and my partner might go outside to study our drawing objects closer. I don’t want to ruin the drawing, now do I?”, Yutaka asked in the most innocent tone of voice.

Shou raised his head.

He thought that it would be nice to go outside to catch some fresh air – and mostly to stop drawing. But he would have preferred if Yutaka had asked him first, before speaking for both of them. He was being rude. But then, rudeness seemed to be one of Yutaka’s most prominent character traits, so he shouldn’t be surprised.

“You could have taken a photo yesterday, like the rest of the class”, Utahiroba Sensei replied dryly.

“But a photo can hardly picture the proportions correctly, Sensei”, Yutaka said. “It’s important to look at the object from different angles to fully understand it.”

Utahiroba Sensei snorted. He didn’t seem to believe in understanding toilet bowls. But there was a smirk around his lips. Shou assumed that he was either impressed by Yutaka’s smoothness, or that he wanted to get rid of him badly.

“You may go outside, if your partner agrees”, he said and turned his gaze directly onto Shou now. “The exercise is supposed to teach you teamwork after all.”

Shou swallowed and considered if he was angry enough at Yutaka for being rude to stay inside. He decided that he wasn’t.

“I could also need a new perspective, Utahiroba Sensei”, he said quietly.

Utahiroba Sensei let out a quiet sigh as if he wasn’t pleased by the answer, but also not surprised about it. He gave a dismissive wave with his hand.

This time, Yutaka followed Shou’s example and put on his jacket. When he grabbed for his bag, Utahiroba Sensei gave a disapproving noise.

“I wasn’t assuming you’d go all the way home to study your object”, he said. “So, I don’t see why you would take your bag. Surely, you won’t be long.”

Yutaka put on a grin that ranked somewhere between pure innocence and open provocation.

“Maybe I need to do sketches. To capture the moment. Would be a shame not to have pens and paper on me then.”

Shou saw exactly how Utahiroba Sensei tried not to laugh. He realized that his first impression had been right. In spite of being a troublemaker, Yutaka was his favourite student.

Some longing gazes followed them over to the door as they left, but no one gathered the courage to ask if they might go out as well. Shou understood all too well. He was the kind of person, who would never have asked for himself either.

“I couldn’t stand it anymore”, Yutaka said as he pulled the door shut behind himself. “I thought drawing class would be chill, but it’s rather narcotic.”

“You need a smoke again?”, Shou asked. He couldn’t imagine any other reason why Yutaka would have picked exactly this moment to leave. His voice sounded annoyed, although he did not mean to. Yutaka had gotten them out after all.

“Nah”, Yutaka said and eyed him from the side as they walked out the main door. “You wanted to stay?”

Shou shrugged awkwardly.

“I didn’t want to stay. You should have asked, though. Don’t just drag me along when you want to go.”

“Ah, don’t worry, I did it for you”, Yutaka said and checked the watch on his mobile. “Third hour just started. The second years have sport now. With the weather like this, they’ll be out for sure. There are some cute girls in that class. I know the perfect spot to watch them. Thought you might like that. All those bouncing boobs and short pants.”

Shou tried to remain looking annoyed, but he couldn’t help feeling a little excited.

“One day”, he said sarcastically. “And you already know me too well.”

Yutaka laughed.

“You have the face of a pervert”, he said.

“Thanks.” Shou rolled his eyes.

“You’re welcome”, Yutaka said innocently as if he hadn’t heard the irony at all.

He led the way over to the sports field. Shou could already hear voices. A class was out for sure.

“Here”, Yutaka said and turned behind the tribunes, that were only used during baseball matches with rivalling high schools.

Behind one of the stairs, there was a small pathway, if you climbed over a low barrier. Yutaka hopped over it effortlessly. Shou followed him much more careful.

He was surprised to find a small open area beneath the stairs. You couldn’t really stand up, but it was big enough for a group of maybe four people. You could look out onto the field between the steps of the stair easily. What astonished Shou even more were the two blankets laid out on the ground. They looked dirty as if lying here for a long time already, but more comfortable than the ground otherwise.

“I didn’t know there was a space like this”, Shou said.

Yutaka had already stretched himself out on the ground. Shou sat down next to him.

“We come here to skip class sometimes”, Yutaka explained. “The teachers don’t know this place.”

Shou figured that with “we” Yutaka meant the popular kids with the punk attitude that Shou clearly did not belong to. He didn’t really skip class. It looked like the place where they would hang out, smoke and talk about the girls they were dating. It also looked like the kind of place you brought a girl to, if you wanted to kiss her during the breaks in private. He wondered if Yutaka had ever brought a girl here. He probably had. He also wondered if Yutaka had ever brought a boy here to kiss him, but then he decided not to think about that any longer, because of the implications.

Shou turned his head and looked out onto the sports field.

Yutaka had been right. It was a class from second year. Shou recognized some of the students from seeing them in the hallways. Some of the girls were cute indeed.

“You were right”, he said. “There are pretty girls in the class.”

“Ah, you see.” Yutaka let out a long undefined noise as if he considered voicing something or rather keeping shut about it. Shou knew that he would not keep shut about it under any circumstances.

“I’m not telling you to lower your standards or forget about Sakura”, Yutaka did continue. “It’s just that with the second years it’s easier. You have a bonus already because you’re older. I’m pretty sure some of those girls would be happy to go out with you.”

Shou bit the inside of his cheek lightly. He wasn’t sure why Yutaka was telling him this. Was he politely trying to tell him that he had no chances with Sakura? Or was he indeed trying to be nice, because he had figured that Shou was clumsy with girls and could need some assistance.

“I guess”, he said vaguely.

“So, who is your type?”, Yutaka asked and got on his knees to look out between the stairs curiously.

Shou studied the different girls for a moment.

“The one with the pigtails looks cute”, he finally admitted.

“Eh, really?”, Yutaka assured, his voice loud with disbelieve. Shou wished he would speak more quietly, otherwise it was only a matter of time until a teacher found out about their hiding spot. Even if no one was in sight now, Yutaka’s voice probably carried right into the teacher’s room.

“I mean, she is cute alright, but a bit, mh, plain. What about the one with the high ponytail and the shirt that is at least two sizes too tight?”

Shou did not have to go looking for the girl Yutaka indicated. He had spotted her immediately and then ignored her. Shou did not look at women like that in real life. They made his pants feel way too tight as well.

“Please”, Shou said. He thought it was plain to see that he would never get with a girl like that. “The one with the pigtails, I don’t know. She looks nice.”

“I get it”, Yutaka said.

Shou kept watching the girl with the pigtails as the new sports teacher blocked his view. In spite of it only being spring, he was not wearing a shirt. But then he didn’t need the sun as an excuse. Shou had never seen him give a class while wearing a shirt. He seemed physically unable to teach while fully dressed.

Even from the distance his muscles were clearly noticeable. Ever since he had entered the school, sports were much more popular with the girls. Shou resented him.

“What’s wrong with that new teacher?” He exhaled loudly. “I get it, you are much better looking than any of us ever will be. No need to rub it in.”

Yutaka laughed quietly.

“Yeah, he’s overdoing it a bit”, he agreed. “Can’t say that I mind, though. He’s really hot.”

Shou felt something like a pang of triumph. So, he had been right about Yutaka. This time, his words left no room for misinterpretation. Yutaka also liked guys and he was not trying to hide it in front of Shou. Shou wondered why that was. He thought that it was usually the kind of information you didn’t share freely with everyone. Maybe Yutaka just felt confident enough to not be scared, though. Or maybe, he wanted Shou to know. But why would he want Shou to know? Was it because he wanted to befriend Shou without secrets? Or did he want Shou to know, because he thought the information might somehow be relevant for their relationship? Did he think Shou liked guys, too? Was Shou giving off the vibes of a person who liked guys? Why would that be, if he didn’t like guys, though?

Slowly, Shou felt himself panicking, because he did not know how to react at all. If he agreed with Yutaka, it might look like he shared his preferences. It might look like encouraging him. (Encouraging him to do what exactly, though?) But if he acted grossed out, it would look like he was a homophobe. He didn’t want Yutaka to think that. He wasn’t judging him. He just didn’t know how to act. His ears felt like they were glowing with heat.

Shou decided that it would be best not to answer at all.

After a moment of silence, Yutaka yawned overstatedly.

“I’m going to take a nap, alright?”, he said. “You can do the same or just enjoy the show.”

Shou observed him laying down on his back, the schoolbag under his head. He closed his eyes and looked relaxed and content immediately.

For a moment, Shou just stared at him, waiting for Yutaka to open his eyes again and do something stupid. But he did not move.

Studying his face as peacefully as that, Shou realized that Yutaka was in fact very handsome. It wasn’t just his smile that made him look charming. He had large eyes and even features and nice lips. He was one of the prettiest students here, even prettier than Sakura.

Shou turned his eyes away.

He felt weirdly offended by the fact that Yutaka was just napping now. For a brief while, Shou had actually believed that Yutaka had taken him here to spend time with him. That he wanted to talk to Shou. Or that he had taken him here to find him a girlfriend. That either way, it had been with the intention of befriending him. For a moment, Shou had genuinely believed that Yutaka thought spending time with Shou was more interesting than drawing class.

But it turned out that Yutaka just really hated drawing class.

He had come here not to be alone with Shou, but because he wanted to sleep. He had dragged Shou along, because he wanted to go. Acting like he had considered what Shou would like to do, had just been an act. Sure, a good act. There was a reason why everyone liked Yutaka for his charms. But now he didn’t even care to hold it up. Truth was, that Yutaka was as bored with Shou’s presence as everyone else. Rather than talking to him, he would nap.

Shou turned to look out onto the field again. At least he got to watch girls running around in short pants. For this kind of joy, he usually needed an internet connection.

His eyes trailed over to the girl in the tight shirt, but travelled back almost immediately. Shou found that kind of sexy women as attractive as anyone, but he also felt intimidated by them. Women like that usually looked at him only with a sneer on their face. Shou wanted someone who was gentle and kind.

He watched the girl with the pigtails for a while. She was a little clumsy, just like Shou himself. He could imagine holding her hand. She looked like she wouldn’t really mind holding hands with him. And if he told her a joke, she would giggle and cast down her eyes. She’d look at him affectionately.

Shou drifted off into daydreams, while the girls were jogging around the field.

He would take her to karaoke and to cute cafés, if she liked that. He’d have to spend money on that, but surely it would be worth it. And his former friends would invite both of them to group dates and they would joke around with Shou again. He would no longer be the boring loner you could not invite and that everyone got tired of so quickly. He wouldn’t be popular like Yutaka was, but he wouldn’t be lonely anymore, either.

After the jogging, there was stretching. Shou liked that part. Girls bending over, girls bending that way and this. The curves of their bodies stuck out clearly. Shou felt his own body temperature rising. And if he had a girlfriend, maybe, just maybe, she’d let him do other things as well. Shou would be very respectful of course. Not pressuring her, just being the perfect gentleman. He would kiss her in a respectful way, and he would caress her breasts in a respectful way, and when he slipped his hand down between her thighs, he would also be very, very respectful about it, and when he …

“You need some privacy?”, Yutaka interrupted him. “Because I can leave, if you want a moment to yourself.”

“Oh god”, Shou said. “I thought you were sleeping.”

His voice sounded somewhat breathless and he was aware that he probably looked a little flustered. His thoughts had definitely gotten carried away.

“Well, I was dozing off for a while, but then I checked on you and thought I’d better step in, before you unbutton your pants.”

Shou made a face and shifted so he was sitting with his back to the stairs now.

He sighed heavily.

“I really want a girlfriend”, he said, feeling somehow sorry for himself.

“You just want to get laid”, Yutaka said.

Shou looked at him sternly, but thought about it for a while. He did want the sex. He was a teenager. He was a pervert. He wanted sex all the time. But more than that, he did not want to be alone.

“I want to be loved”, he said.

Yutaka gave him a funny look, that Shou could not quite place. Shou wondered if he was going to argue with him.

“You wouldn’t understand”, he added defensively.

“I understand wanting to be loved”, Yutaka said.

Shou crossed the arms in front of his chest. Yutaka seemingly didn’t mean bad, but it still felt as if he was belittling Shou’s feelings. He couldn’t possibly understand the depth of Shou’s longing.

“It’s not the same for you”, Shou said. “You are popular. You have a lot of friends and girls want to date you. I bet you even get to have sex easily.”

Yutaka shrugged. He was looking at Shou rather serious. He did not seem surprised by his outburst, though.

“I do have people, who hang out with me. And yes, occasionally, I get to have sex with girls. But those people don’t like me.”

Shou snorted and turned his head away slightly. They were sitting about a metre apart, but Yutaka still felt too close.

Shou felt angry at Yutaka for downplaying it like that. Yutaka had no right to pity himself. If Shou had his life and his looks and his attitude, he’d be happy and grateful.

“Everyone likes you”, Shou said. “That’s the point. You are so charming and full of energy.”

He lowered his arms to gesture at Yutaka as if accusing him of something.

Even he could feel the energy Yutaka was radiating. He had an innocent enthusiasm, that just made you want to participate in whatever he suggested. Shou had felt it when Yutaka talked him into painting his face, he had felt it when he had dragged him to the sports field. Yutaka had been so cheerful and he had looked directly at Shou, as if he had meant to include him – only him – so that Shou had found himself not wanting to let him down. Yutaka had a way of getting excited as if it was all because of you. When Yutaka smiled at you, you felt special. Even Shou felt special then, and he usually couldn’t even bring himself to feel average.

“Exactly”, Yutaka said. “People like that I’m cheerful and handsome and I put them in a good mood. But they don’t really like me as a person. There is nothing interesting about me.”

Shou looked at Yutaka. He thought that he had never met another person, who was so violently themselves. He did what he wanted to and spoke what was on his mind, where Shou was always scared and quiet. Yutaka was himself, where Shou could have been just anyone.

“Like, when yesterday you said we shouldn’t do the same as everyone else”, Yutaka went on. “That was really mind-blowing. You have all those interesting thoughts and ideas. Like that stage show. And I’m just shallow. Girls like me at first, but they always leave instead of falling in love with me. Once they get to know me better, they realize there is nothing much to know. I’m sure there are a million things to know about you. I envy you for that.”

Shou wanted to protest, but then realized that Yutaka really meant it. He envied Shou as much as Shou envied him. Maybe he was just as unhappy, and just as lonely.

“Those don’t sound like the thoughts of a shallow person”, he said softly.

“Ah.” Yutaka scratched the back of his head. He suddenly looked embarrassed. Most likely, he hadn’t meant to share all of that.

“In the end, you still win”, Shou said, more lightly this time. “We’re both unloved, but at least you have sex.”

Yutaka laughed. Shou thought that his laughter had a weird quality to it. It sounded rehearsed, but by now, Shou had reached the conclusion that it was his honest laughter nonetheless. Yutaka sounded like the people on laughing tracks in tv. His laughter sounded exactly like what laughter was supposed to sound like. It was irritating and somehow impressive. Before, Shou had slightly disliked his laughter, because like everything about Yutaka it seemed unfairly perfect. But after hearing him talk about his own insecurities, Yutaka’s laughter was starting to grow on Shou.

“You want to get out of here?”, Yutaka changed the topic. “It’s a good place to hide, but we’re missing all the sunshine.”

Shou looked out between the stairs. It did look nice outside. He imagined feeling the sun on his face.

“Sure”, he agreed.

They both scrambled to their legs and Yutaka led the way back outside. Blinking into the sunlight, Shou realized only now how dim it had been beneath the stairs. His eyes had to readjust slowly.

“We could lie down at the meadow behind the sport field”, Yutaka suggested.

Shou nodded.

He had no idea what the best spots were for hanging out while you were supposed to be at class. It was obvious that Yutaka had more experience with this.

They strolled over to the meadow without hurry. The grass was still low around this time of year and here and there brown dirt shone through. Eventually they found a spot where the grass was greener and the ground therefore looked softer.

As they made themselves comfortable, Yutaka started to fumble with his schoolbag.

“I think it’s time for lunch. I’m growing hungry.”

Shou took a moment to consider if he felt the same. He did.

“Me too”, he agreed. “You think I can get something from the cafeteria now?”

“No way.” Yutaka shook his head in deliberation and got out a bento box. It was huge. “Rule number one when skipping class: Always bring your own lunch from home. If you go to the cafeteria outside regular breaks or leave the school grounds, you look suspicious and are more likely to get caught.”

“So, we’re officially skipping class now?”, Shou assured.

So far, it hadn’t really felt like skipping, since they had asked Utahiroba Sensei for permission to leave. But then they weren’t doing what they were supposed to do and staying out beyond time, too. They probably were skipping class right now.

“Of course, we are”, Yutaka confirmed. “Since you are a newbie, I’ll share my food with you. But next time remember to bring your own.”

Shou snorted at Yutaka’s lecturing attitude.

“You sound like a bad influence”, Shou teased him.

The moment the words were out, he wondered what was wrong with his voice. He sounded flirty. He had no idea where that was coming from.

“Absolutely”, Yutaka said without looking up. He stared down onto the box while opening it and arranging the different parts on the ground between them. “I’m going to turn you into a bad boy. It will make you popular with the girls.”

“Oh, really?”, Shou asked. This time, he was speaking coyly on purpose. He was curious what it would feel like to actually flirt with a guy. He was curious how Yutaka would react. “You think skipping class makes me sexy?”

Now Yutaka did look up and gave him a wide grin.

“If Sakura and Pigtails could see you right now, they’d be cat fighting over you”, he said.

Shou’s stomach did something weird. It felt like it was aching, but only for a very short moment. He wondered what Yutaka meant. Was he flirting with him, too, because he was complimenting him? Or was he turning Shou down by reminding him he should rather be focusing on the girls? Had he just not noticed the flirty note in Shou’s voice? Or had he brought up the girls to see how Shou would react, to see how far he would go? Shou figured that he was supposed to say something along the lines of “and would you fight them for me as well?” to make it absolutely clear he was flirting with Yutaka. Maybe he just hadn’t noticed so far, or maybe he was encouraging Shou to say exactly that to make sure he hadn’t just imagined it. But Shou knew that he couldn’t say it. Because a definite statement like that would signal his interest clearly. But he didn’t know if he was interested. He was just giving it a try.

To avoid having to answer, Shou looked down onto the food. One item caught his eye.

“What the fuck is that?”, he asked and pointed to the freezer bag full of liquid. “It looks gross.”

“It’s Miso soup!”, Yutaka defended himself. “You can’t put it into the box otherwise. It will spill.”

“That is why normal people don’t put soup in their bento”, Shou pointed out and furrowed his brow as Yutaka picked up the bag.

“Nah, I always do it like that. It works fine.”

Doubtfully Shou watched Yutaka trying to tear a hole into the bag with his fingernails.

“It does not look fine”, he observed.

“I just need something sharp”, Yutaka said and started to search his schoolbag. Finally, he pulled out a pencil and used the sharp end to pierce a hole into the bag.

Shou grimaced. The sight was putting him off on so many levels.

Yutaka pulled the cover of the bento box towards himself and started to squeeze the Miso soup into it. Tofu and wakame bits that were too large to go through the small hole got stuck and as Yutaka squeezed harder, what came out resembled soup less than a sticky paste.

His face throughout the whole process remained so serious, that Shou couldn’t help laughing.

“So gross”, he repeated and shook his head.

“It still tastes good”, Yutaka insisted and finally raised the filled cover. “You want some?”

“Most certainly not”, Shou said and watched Yutaka tilt back his head to slurp the soup right out of the cover.

Somehow, Shou could not imagine any girl liking Yutaka. Weren’t they too delicate for a barbarian like him? Shou wondered if maybe Yutaka acted differently around girls then. He probably did. But did that mean that he trusted Shou enough to see his true nature? Or that he just didn’t care enough to impress him?

“Here”, Yutaka said after putting down the cover again. It was already empty. “You go first.”

He held out the chopsticks to Shou. Shou took them hesitantly.

He felt rude eating Yutaka’s lunch, but then he was hungry. And Yutaka had brought enough lunch to feed an entire class, really.

Shou took up one of the small sausages and chewed.

He hoped that Yutaka wouldn’t mind sharing chopsticks with him.

“Stop watching me”, he said, looking up to find Yutaka’s gaze fixed on his face.

“Just eat faster”, Yutaka said. “I’m hungry, too.”

Shou considered apologizing. That would have been his normal reaction. But with Yutaka, he figured that he didn’t need to feel so sorry for his own existence constantly. Yutaka never apologized either.

So, instead, Shou just rolled his eyes and continued eating, trying to leave about half of everything. Finally, he handed over the chopsticks to Yutaka.

Yutaka was done with his half way faster.

“That was really good”, Shou said. “Does your mum prepare it?”

Yutaka shook his head, his left cheek still round with food. He spoke with his mouth full.

“No, she just makes the soup in the evening. I prepare the rest in the morning myself. I could just eat at the cafeteria, but I like it better that way.”

Shou looked out across the meadow.

He had always thought of Yutaka as something like a spoiled brat. He hadn’t thought of him as the kind of person who prepared his own lunch.

“You think we should head back soon?”, Shou asked.

“Just a bit longer”, Yutaka said. “It will be fine.”

He started to collect the separate parts of his bento box again and put them together, before storing them away inside his schoolbag. Then he lay down on his back as he had done below the stairs.

“Another nap?”, Shou asked.

“Last time, my slumber was disturbed by a pervert’s heavy panting”, Yutaka said and grinned with his eyes closed.

“I’ll keep my voice down this time”, Shou promised and lay down on his back next to Yutaka.

He heard him chuckle.

The sun was blinding when looking up into the sky. Shou closed his eyes. He felt warm and sleepy. He felt comfortable in Yutaka’s presence, too.

Shou had led short lasting friendships before, that did not carry over the time period of a certain group project for example. At first, he had thought it would be the same with Yutaka. That they would hang out with each other until project week was over, because they had found each other to be the least annoying company around. But now that they got along so well, he caught himself hoping that they would become real friends. He caught himself daydreaming about eating lunch with Yutaka more regularly during the breaks. About sitting next to him, while he smoked behind the meadow, and chatting away. The daydreams were almost romantic, but at the same time, Shou felt guilty. Because he knew what these daydreams implied. It wasn’t just about spending time with Yutaka. It was about being seen spending time with Yutaka. People would respect him if he was hanging out with a guy like him. He would be accepted into the group of popular kids. Yutaka’s jokes about finding Shou a girlfriend weren’t just jokes. Shou knew that his chances on the dating market improved significantly if introduced by Yutaka. Yutaka was a nice guy, though. He did not deserve Shou’s selfishness.

“Say, Shou”, Yutaka next to him said.

“Hm?”

“Do you plan to do a show again? Like the one you did at the high school festival?”

Shou hesitated. He had had some more ideas and even noted them down, but in the end, it did not seem worth the effort. He had made a fool out of himself already and no one had cared. He wouldn’t stand the humiliation once again.

“I’m done with that”, he said.

“That’s a shame”, Yutaka replied. He was silent for a moment. “I really think you should keep going. If I had a talent like that, I wouldn’t just give up.”

Shou kept his eyes closed and his mouth shut. He did not know what to say to that. To him, it didn’t really feel like talent. He had always been good at giving up, though.

“Just think about it”, Yutaka added.

Still, Shou did not answer. It hadn’t really felt like Yutaka was expecting him to.

The sun was starting to feel almost uncomfortable hot on his face by now. A few more minutes and maybe they should head back inside.

“Hey, you guys skipping class, huh?”, a voice called out to them.

Shou opened his eyes and shot into a sitting position. Next to him, Yutaka did the same.

On the soft ground, they had not heard the footsteps approach. It wouldn’t have helped to run away, though. On the meadow it was easy to spot them even from a distance.

“Oh no”, Shou mumbled.

The teacher had put on a shirt by now, but even underneath the fabric it was possible to make out the defined body. It did nothing to hide how handsome his face looked, either.

“Free hour, Darvish Sensei”, Yutaka said cheerfully.

The sports teacher gave him a long look.

“Kyan Yutaka, isn’t it?”, he asked. “You are a third year. You have project week currently, no free hours for you.”

Although Darvish Sensei had joined their school only recently, of course he already knew Yutaka’s name. Somehow, Shou was not surprised. Yutaka was a natural force. They probably had mugshots of him hanging in the teacher’s room.

“Ah, you caught us, Sensei”, Yutaka admitted and got up. Shou followed his example hastily. He had never been caught by a teacher before and decided to leave the talking to Yutaka. He himself would just stutter an apology. “We’ll just be heading back then.”

“Don’t think you’ll get off that easily”, Darvish Sensei said sternly. “But save your apology for the headmaster.”

Shou’s skin went cold in spite of the sunshine. If Darvish Sensei took them to the headmaster, they might receive a written reprimand. His parents wouldn’t be pleased. He was angry at himself for allowing Yutaka to drag him into this. He had fallen for his easy-going charms, but Shou should have known better. He should have stayed out of trouble. He was angry at Yutaka, too.

“It’s not like that”, Yutaka said hastily. “Utahiroba Sensei allowed us to go out.”

Darvish Sensei had been about to turn around towards the school building, but now he stopped short.

“I swear”, Yutaka added. Obviously, he had noticed the sudden hesitation as well and was trying to take advantage of it.

“Utahiroba Jun allowed this?”, Darvish Sensei assured.

“Yes!”, Yutaka said and Shou nodded eagerly as Darvish Sensei looked at them. He sensed a small hope here.

“Well, we’re just going to ask him then”, Darvish Sensei said.

Shou’s shoulders slumped down a little. If he told Utahiroba Sensei, they were still in trouble.

Yutaka on the other hand seemed all cheerful again. His steps were bouncy as he followed Darvish Sensei back to their classroom. It was pretty obvious he had a hard time not dashing forward and get their first. He was back to being full of energy.

“Don’t worry”, he whispered at Shou. “If it’s just Utahiroba, we won’t be in serious trouble.”

Shou seriously hoped that he was right.

When Darvish Sensei knocked on the door and pushed it open, Shou had to tilt his head to look past him to check on Utahiroba Sensei’s reaction. He looked surprised at their sight. But not as if he had forgotten about them. Rather surprised as if he had been caught doing something forbidden. Maybe it was just the light, but Shou could have sworn his cheeks turned slightly red.

“Oh, Darvish Sensei, what can I do for you?”, he asked.

“I’ve found some of your students, lazing around on the meadow”, Darvish Sensei said and took a step to the side, so Utahiroba Sensei got a good look at them now.

Shou did not dare to look over at Yutaka, but as for himself he was sure that he looked guilty.

“They said they had your permission, but I doubted that.”

“Oh, you found them”, Utahiroba Sensei said, sarcasm dripping into his voice. “This time, I thought I’d lost them for good. They had my permission to be outside to study, not to slack off. Thank you for returning them. As always, you’ve been a great help.”

Shou noticed that Utahiroba Sensei was looking only at Darvish Sensei without paying further attention to them. Maybe he just wanted to treat the new teacher with respect.

“And as always, I’m glad to be of service to you”, Darvish Sensei said. “I’m just shocked anyone would miss the opportunity to spend time at your class. They should be thankful that a gifted person as yourself is willing to teach them.”

By now, Shou had the feeling that the conversation was taking a weird turn.

He turned his head to make eye contact with Yutaka to see how he felt about the situation. But Yutaka was watching their teachers with utter satisfaction written on his face.

“I will handle this from now on”, Utahiroba Sensei said. “Thank you again. They can be glad you found them. A less generous person would have turned them in to the headmaster.”

“They shouldn’t have skipped your class, though. Don’t be too gentle on them”, Darvish Sensei said.

“Never”, Utahiroba Sensei said with a grin.

“Oh, and Utahiroba Sensei?”, Darvish Sensei said as if on second-thought. “I’ve had some problems with those student forms again. They looked different on my old school. Last time you were so kind to help me. Maybe you have time after school today to go over it once more?”

“Definitely”, Utahiroba Sensei said. “You two.” For the first time he turned his eyes to look at Shou and Yutaka. His expression was stern. “You have detention today for skipping class.”

“But Sensei!”, Yutaka protested.

Shou bit his lower lip and hoped that Yutaka would shut up. One day of detention really wasn’t that bad.

“You will make up for the time you skipped today by staying longer. It only seems fair”, Utahiroba Sensei said. Then he turned towards the rest of the class. “And for you all it means you don’t have to clean up your working space today. We have two volunteers. Now, get back to work.”

Yutaka groaned loudly, but Shou slipped past Darvish Sensei to get back to his easel. Yutaka followed, luckily without further protest. Staying longer to clean the art classroom meant letting them off pretty easy. If they didn’t act up, the headmaster wouldn’t know about this and so wouldn’t Shou’s parents.

Shou turned back to his canvas, only looking up shortly to see their teachers chat by the door, before Darvish Sensei left.

He caught some of the other students staring at him as well. Female students. It caused an odd discomfort in Shou’s chest. Those girls had probably not even been aware of the fact that Shou was participating in their drawing class before. Now they would probably gossip about him behind his back. He was the guy who had skipping class with Kyan Yutaka. He suddenly had the image of someone skipping class. Before that, he hadn’t had an image at all.

Shortly, he wished that Sakura was here today. She’d look at Shou now too. She would know who he was now. But then he was also glad that she wasn’t there. Because she would think he was as much of a punk as Yutaka. A bad boy as Yutaka had called it. But that wasn’t Shou. Shou was the nice guy. The guy who bought you flowers and made sure you got home safely and, in the end, didn’t get the girl anyway. He wanted Sakura to know that he was the kind of guy, who would care for her.

He didn’t like the sudden attention from the girls, because it wasn’t really directed at him. They were looking at an image of Shou that had nothing much to do with whom he really was. Shou wanted to be seen for himself.

He wondered if that was what Yutaka felt like. People liked him for his loud and carefree image, but they didn’t understand he was shallow underneath, he had said. What he had meant by that was probably that they didn’t understand he was scared and lonely underneath. Shou suddenly felt him very much.

“Oi, partner”, Yutaka said and lifted his canvas to turn it into Shou’s direction. “What’s your opinion on it?”

Shou looked at Yutaka’s sketch of a toilet bowl. It resembled a toilet bowl as much as Picasso’s portraits resembled actual human beings.

Shou looked at his own draft.

He looked back at Yutaka’s.

“Not so bad”, he said.

“It just feels as if I’m still lacking that certain something”, Yutaka said thoughtfully.

“Talent?”, Shou suggested.

Yutaka laughed. By now, Shou felt confident teasing him. He knew that Yutaka wouldn’t get offended easily.

“Show me yours”, Yutaka required.

They weren’t the only ones talking. They were the loudest, though. Shou tried not to feel embarrassed.

He took up his canvas to turn it towards Yutaka.

“You are the born surrealist”, Yutaka complimented him. “It doesn’t resemble reality in the slightest.”

Shou put his right hand over his heart and nodded gravely.

“Thank you, your qualified expertise means so much to me.”

“Shou, Yutaka, will you come over for a moment?”, Utahiroba Sensei called out to them.

Shou flinched.

Maybe it would have been smarter to keep their voices down and not draw the attention back onto themselves.

Yutaka did not seem worried, though, as they walked over to the teacher’s desk.

Utahiroba Sensei held up a key and then placed it on the desk, making sure they saw it.

“I will leave the key for the classroom in your not very trustworthy hands. I want you to clean the work place of everyone today and since you will probably be done fast, there is old paint in the shelf at the back of the room. I want you to check on each tube and throw out the ones that are dried out. When you are done, you lock the room and leave the key with the gatekeeper. I will pick it up when I go home after assisting Darvish Sensei with his forms.”

“Clean out the shelf?”, Yutaka assured. “We’re not school employees. Someone should be paying us for that!”

“Someone shouldn’t have been skipping class”, Utahiroba Sensei said.

“We will do it, Utahiroba Sensei”, Shou hurried to say.

Yutaka snorted, but stopped arguing.

“Now, get back to those drawings”, Utahiroba Sensei said. “You should start working with paint by tomorrow.”

Shou went back to the canvas and stared at it for a bit. They had already idled away most of the afternoon and the rustling of the other students told him that everyone was just waiting for the final bell to ring. He’d have to leave the sketch as it was. It wasn’t good, but Shou doubted that he would manage to improve it with his level of skill. Tomorrow, he would start working with paint anyway. It could only get better.

The school bell rang out. Since no one had to clean their places, the room emptied quickly. Utahiroba Sensei was among the first to head out. He seemed damn eager to get a look at those forms.

With a sigh, Shou started to walk around the room, collecting the jars and brushes of the students who had already started to work with paint today. He carried them over to the sink at the back of the room.

The light in the room was already changing. The sun wasn’t quite setting yet and the sky didn’t turn orange just now, but the light was warmer already.

Shou turned on the water. It was ice cold. From experience he knew that at the sinks at school it didn’t matter in which direction you turned the tap – the water always remained ice cold.

“You need help?”, Yutaka called out.

The water was barely drippling, but Yutaka shouted as if he had to talk over the noise of a waterfall.

“You can start with the paint in the shelf already”, Shou suggested.

From the back of the room he heard loud rustling and clattering. Yutaka obviously wasn’t emptying the shelf but wrestling with it.

Shou watched how the water changed colour as he washed out the paint brushes. Red and green and yellow. His thumb changed colour, too. The cold of the water made his hands feel numb.

When he was finally done, he put the brushes out in the now clear jars, so their bristles would dry until tomorrow. Then he strolled over to Yutaka. He was sitting on the floor, three large carton boxes filled with tubes next to himself.

“What’s all that?”, Shou exclaimed surprised. “I thought there’d be like three tubes or something here.”

Yutaka made a grunting noise.

“I guess the school collected those ever since the big bang. I bet Utahiroba is glad he found some idiots to do the job for him. It will take us ages.”

Shou sat down on the floor cross-legged opposite to Yutaka and pulled one of the boxes closer to himself.

“Still, we could be off worse”, he observed.

“True”, Yutaka admitted. “But I told you, Utahiroba is chill.”

Shou unscrewed the lid of one tube and squeezed it. No paint was coming out. His hand nearly hurt. The whole tube was hard as stone.

He threw it onto the heap that Yutaka had already started building.

“We are lucky Darvish Sensei took us to him and not to the headmaster”, Shou said.

Yutaka looked up from the tube he was inspecting. He wore a lopsided grin that seemed to sit only on one half of his face.

“You think Darvish and Utahiroba are fucking?”, he asked.

Shou managed to nearly choke on his own breath.

“No!”, he said.

It was a possibility that had not occurred to him at all.

“I bet they have something going on”, Yutaka insisted. “They were basically undressing each other with words when Darvish dropped of us. They’re probably fucking right now in the locker room or something.”

Shou tried not to imagine it too vividly. His cheeks felt very hot. Sure, there had been something weird going on between them today, Shou had noticed that, too. But he could not imagine the muscular sports teacher being naked right now or what Utahiroba Sensei looked like beneath his clothes and that the two might be touching and more than that.

“But they are both men!”, he protested.

Yutaka looked at him and then raised his eyebrows at Shou very, very slowly.

Shou realized instantly what he had just said.

Had his face felt hot before, it now felt as if it was melting from the inside.

“I mean, not that there is anything wrong with that”, he stuttered. “I mean, I would be fine with it, if Utahiroba and Darvish, I mean. Or two men in general. I don’t mind that. I don’t find it weird. Just like, it’s less likely.”

Yutaka’s eyebrows stayed all the way up. He was smirking slightly.

“Less likely, not because it’s wrong. Or because I think men can’t be attractive that way”, Shou went on, desperate to make that judgingly amused expression on Yutaka’s face go away. He wished he had kept shut to begin with. Now, he was only making it worse, but he couldn’t stop. “Just, statistically speaking. There are less men who like men than men liking women. At least I think so. So, it’s not impossible that they. But not, like, likely. By percentage. You know what I mean.”

Yutaka leaned back, looking very relaxed. His eyebrows were back in place, but he was still smirking as he shook his head.

“No, I don’t know. Please, elaborate on the topic. You are just too cute when you get this flustered.”

Shou stared down onto his lap. He was absolutely sure that his face was bright red right now.

He wanted to be angry at Yutaka for teasing him right now, but a small part of him couldn’t help noticing that it was the first time Yutaka had made him a compliment like that. He had openly called Shou cute. Especially during a conversation like this. Now, he was obviously flirting with him.

“Don’t make fun of me”, Shou said softly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, Yutaka said and kicked the box next to himself. The rattling sound told Shou that it was empty by now.

“We should just put the dried-out tubes in there”, Yutaka suggested.

Shou felt irritated that he had changed the topic so fast. Somehow, he had expected Yutaka to keep teasing him. He didn’t know if Yutaka wanted to be nice, or if he just didn’t care very much for getting Shou flustered in spite of what he had said.

“Sure”, Shou agreed, glad that at least his face was starting to feel normal again.

He was thankful that Yutaka had stopped. Yes. He had absolutely not wanted to be teased by him any further.

Yutaka got up and went over to switch on the light overhead. It had gotten pretty dim already. The sun was setting fast now. Although the weather had been sunny today, it was still almost winter and the days were short.

Shou continued checking tubes and separating them into two heaps. More than half of the paint was dried up almost completely. Yutaka put the ones that were no longer useable into the empty box. He did not do it very carefully, but rather threw them from a distance. It was noisy and he had to recollect the ones that had missed the box. Shou considered scolding him for fooling around like that, but then he wasn’t in a hurry to get home.

“A shame we have to throw away that much”, Shou stated, just to say anything at all.

He had emptied the second box by now and pushed it towards Yutaka, so he could refill it with the rest of the dry paint still lying around on the floor. It looked as if one box would be enough to store the still useable tubes. Yutaka had been right. The school had not thrown anything away since the stone age.

“I’d say it’s the perfect opportunity to sneak out some gratis paint, but since neither of us is good at drawing, it wouldn’t be of much use”, Yutaka said and got back to helping Shou sort through the last box.

Shou looked out the window. The sky had turned completely dark in the meantime. It wasn’t silky black yet and sprinkled with stars, but soon it would be. The streetlights on the schoolyard were turned on already to light up the evening.

“It still gets dark so early”, Shou observed.

“Yeah”, Yutaka agreed and turned to look out the window as well. For a moment, Shou thought he wanted to add something else, but he kept quiet.

Shou realized that Yutaka was a lot quieter when no one else was around.

Taking the last tube from the final box, he unscrewed the lid to check on its consistency. The paint was still soft and gave off a slight acrylic smell. For Shou’s taste, the smell was a little too artificial and caused him a headache. He put the lid back on.

“So, I guess we will just leave the dried paint by the door and put the rest back onto the shelf”, he said.

Yutaka gathered the dried tubes.

Shou took up the ones that were still liquid and put them all into the remaining box.

Yutaka was kicking his two boxes across the floor already to move them towards the door without having to lift them.

Shou got up and picked up his box. It was surprisingly heavy and he struggled to get a firm grip on it. Then he carried it over to the shelf again.

“Where did you take the boxes from?”, he called out to Yutaka.

“Third row”, Yutaka replied.

Shou had to tilt back his head to look at the empty space on the shelf. He’d have to lift the box over his head. Hopefully, he wouldn’t embarrass himself.

He lifted the box higher and managed to push it onto the shelf. He let go with one hand to push it down further, but the box was still resting only at the very edge of the shelf and the sudden shifting of weight tilted it back towards Shou. He led out a surprised noise as the full box suddenly approached his face fast and tried to take a step backwards, but he did it too hastily, which nearly caused him to stumble. He already saw his corpse lying on the floor – buried beneath paint tubes.

“Hey, watch out”, Yutaka shouted and a hand stopped the box short in front of Shou.

Another hand was resting on his back, supporting him to remain upright.

“Oops”, Shou said quietly and regained his balance almost immediately, helping Yutaka to move the box onto the shelf completely now.

“You are so clumsy”, Yutaka said, pulling back the hand from Shou’s back now. It had rested there longer than necessary already.

“Sorry”, Shou mumbled and stared to the ground.

Yutaka was still standing close and it felt weird to look right into his face from such a short distance.

“Just don’t hurt yourself”, Yutaka said rather softly.

Awkwardly, Shou turned away, searching for his schoolbag and his jacket. Somehow, he wished cleaning would have taken them longer.

“Say, you still got time now?”, Yutaka asked, his voice suddenly loud and cheerful again as if a happy thought had just hit him. “Or you need to go home immediately?”

Shou shook his head.

“I’m not in a hurry”, he said.

“Great, I’d like to show you something”, Yutaka announced and went over to collect his own things.

Shou gathered his stuff as well and followed Yutaka outside, where he locked the art classroom and then turned towards Shou with the widest grin.

Shou felt both curious and a little scared. He wanted to ask what Yutaka wanted to show him, but his whole attitude indicated that it was supposed to be a surprise.

“This way”, Yutaka said and went down the corridor. He knew his way through the building rather well.

Finally, Yutaka stopped short in front of a door that had paper stars pinned to it.

“You’ve been here before?”, Yutaka asked and knelt down to search his bag.

“No”, Shou admitted. “Isn’t that the room of the astronomy club?”

“Yep.” Yutaka pulled out a key and pushed it into the lock.

“You are a member?”, Shou asked. Astronomy was pretty much the last thing he had expected Yutaka to care about.

“No, I didn’t join any club”, Yutaka said and pushed open the door.

Shou stepped inside and switched on the lights. It was a small room with posters of space on the walls. It looked cosy. There was even a worn couch by the window.

“I thought only members are allowed to have a key”, he observed, while Yutaka went to open a cupboard by the wall.

“You know the club leader?”, Yutaka asked, turning to look over his shoulder. “Cute girl with glasses. I think she’s in your class, actually.”

Shou nodded.

“Very desperately in love with me”, Yutaka said and turned towards the cupboard again.

Shou snorted.

“You are taking advantage of her then”, he concluded.

“I just asked for the key!”, Yutaka protested. Since he had his back to Shou, he couldn’t see what he was doing over there.

He still thought that Yutaka’s behaviour was somewhat immoral. Certainly, he had only asked for the key. But Shou could imagine the way in which he had asked all too well. He would have smiled at the girl and looked at her as if he wasn’t able to see anyone else in the world. He would have given her the impression that his happiness depended entirely on her. And Yutaka’s happiness was dazzling. Even Shou, who notoriously disliked handsome, popular guys, would have sold his own mother, had Yutaka asked for it. The poor girl hadn’t stood a chance.

“I don’t think we are supposed to be here”, Shou said hesitantly.

“Of course not”, Yutaka confirmed. “We are breaking in. Also, we are most definitely not supposed to take this out of the room. So, help me carry it.”

He turned around and now Shou could see the instruments he had gotten out of the cupboard. A long black pipe and a heavy looking tripod.

“We are stealing a telescope?”, Shou assured. He hurried over to help Yutaka anyway.

“We’re not stealing it”, Yutaka said. “You can leave your bag. We’ll return it.”

Then he handed Shou the actual telescope part and took up the tripod himself. The telescope was quite heavy.

“Be careful with it”, Yutaka advised him. “If we damage it, the club leader is going to take advantage of me for a change.”

Shou snorted and rolled his eyes.

“You want to go outside?”, he asked and followed Yutaka to the staircase.

“No”, Yutaka said. “We’re going up.”

They went up to the second floor and from there to the door that led to the rooftop of the school building. Shou had expected it to be locked around this time of day, but it was still open. The third years sometimes hung out up here during breaks. Shou usually wasn’t one of them.

As they stepped outside, he tilted back his head to look up into the sky. It was completely black by now and even with his bare eyes, he could already make out the first stars. He inhaled the clear air deeply. Once it got dark outside, even the air seemed to taste different.

“Just put it down”, Yutaka said and knelt down himself to erect the tripod.

Shou watched him for a moment. His gestures looked experienced. Obviously, it wasn’t the first time Yutaka came here. Shou wondered whom he usually brought along.

He leaned against the railing that went around the roof and looked out onto the schoolyard.

“Won’t your parents be worried when you stay out so long without calling them?”, Yutaka asked.

Shou did not turn to look at him. The whole area seemed peaceful below. There wasn’t a single person in sight. For a while, he could believe that Yutaka was the only other human being alive.

“Nah”, he said. “They used to be kind of strict, but then realized I wouldn’t cause trouble anyway. Or be the cause of anything really. I should be happy they give me that much freedom, because they trust me. But it feels rather like they have given up on me. They don’t care if I’m home or not, because they don’t really notice me when I’m there anyway. Sometimes, I feel invisible.”

He had spoken lightly and right now he didn’t feel sad about it either. It was just an assumption he had had for a long time already, but had never voiced so far. He was surprised that he had told Yutaka of all people.

“My parents have given up on me, too”, Yutaka said. “But rather because I caused too much trouble. They don’t care when I come home, because they have written me off as a lost cause already.”

He laughed quietly.

Shou thought that the atmosphere felt very relaxed for this kind of conversation. Maybe because right now it didn’t matter. Looking up at the stars, he felt happy, so it was easier to talk about the times when he didn’t. Right now, the sadness couldn’t reach him. It was just a word.

“Sometimes, I feel invisible, too”, Yutaka added.

Shou didn’t say anything. He knew that he wasn’t allowed to ask questions or show pity. If they started to pity each other, it would mean acknowledging the sadness. It would also make the sadness real again.

“I guess people overlook you, because you are so quiet and keep to yourself. But they can’t really see me either”, Yutaka continued. “We’re both invisible.”

To his own surprise, Shou understood what Yutaka meant perfectly well. People turned away from Shou, because he didn’t open up to them. Just because he didn’t talk to them, they thought he had nothing to say. And Yutaka was brash and loud and everyone looked at him, but they couldn’t see through the act. He kept to himself, too. But other than Shou, he didn’t go quiet. He hid by loudly distracting people from what they were not supposed to see.

Shou turned around again, watching Yutaka make the last adjustments. He took a look through the telescope and beamed.

“Perfect!”, he exclaimed.

He waved at Shou to come closer and Shou joined him.

“You can see through it clearly. Take a look”, Yutaka offered and Shou bend forward.

He had to stand in an awkward pose, bend over like that. Maybe it would be more comfortable to kneel on the ground. He squinted one eye shut, and then he saw the stars.

They were bright and clear now and around some he could see the hallow of light they were radiating. It was truly beautiful.

“I always liked the stars”, he said. “It reminds you how much is out there and that we don’t know shit. And that leaves so much room for your imagination. I like to think that every star is the symbol of an untold story.”

“Stories?”, Yutaka assured. “I thought you were into music.”

Shou shrugged. He still wasn’t pulling back from the telescope.

“It’s all the same”, he said. “Stories, songs, movies, stage performances. You are just trying to tell something to people in order to get a reaction. So, they’d understand you. Or to make them laugh. Or just to sell CDs. Whatever really.”

Yutaka stayed quiet. The silence didn’t feel rude, though, but rather thoughtful.

“Anyway, it’s just beautiful”, Shou concluded and finally pulled back. “Thank you for taking me here.”

He stood up straight and turned to look at Yutaka. Only when he met his gaze did he realize that Yutaka had been watching him the whole time. He suddenly felt embarrassed.

“Uhm”, he said.

Yutaka was smiling, but it had nothing in common with his usual provoking grin. It was a small, quiet smile that was directed at no one; not even at Shou. He just looked happy.

And Shou realized how romantic this situation was. He imagined taking a girl up here and watching her gaze at the stars as Yutaka had watched him just now. Shou would probably be smiling, too.

And for a moment, he really thought that this was it. That Yutaka would kiss him now, because that had been his intention from the start. And Shou thought that he wouldn’t even mind. Because Yutaka was handsome and underneath his brash attitude, he was vulnerable, too, and actually quite likeable.

Of course, those thoughts had something to do with Yutaka’s popularity and Shou couldn’t deny it. The idea of being desired by someone like Yutaka who could have anyone he wanted, was flattering and it made him special. If he was honest, Shou liked the idea of Yutaka wanting to kiss him very much. He wasn’t sure he would like to actually kiss Yutaka, though.

“Let me have a look, too”, Yutaka asked and broke the atmosphere by pushing past Shou somewhat rudely.

Shou wasn’t sure if he had misread the mood or if Yutaka had noticed Shou’s thoughts and was turning him down that way. Or maybe Yutaka had concluded that Shou wasn’t interested and was now trying to avoid the awkwardness by being extra brash. Maybe he was trying to become invisible by distracting Shou from what had almost surfaced right now. Or maybe, though, Shou was just an overthinking idiot.

He watched Yutaka bending down as well to gaze through the telescope. Then he took a few steps towards the railing again, looking up into the sky. He tried to make out the stars he had been able to see so clearly just now. All he saw was shadows and blurs. His eyes seemed to play tricks on him, because he was trying so hard to see something that maybe wasn’t even there.

“Can I ask you something personal?”, Shou asked.

“Sure”, Yutaka said.

Shou turned to watch him again. He was still looking through the telescope.

“Did you ever have sex with a guy?”, Shou wanted to know. “Because you made it sound like you, you know. But when you talked about sex, you only mentioned girls, and I well, I was wondering about that.”

Even with his eye against the telescope, Shou saw Yutaka breaking into a grin.

“So, you wondered about that”, he repeated.

He stood up and looked at Shou now, still grinning.

Shou pulled up his shoulders in a defensive gesture.

“It just struck me as odd”, he mumbled. “So, I was curious.”

“As a matter of fact, I didn’t”, Yutaka said. He kept watching Shou as if studying his reaction. “All the guys I’ve been with were just curious. They didn’t want to go all the way.”

“But you’re not just curious”, Shou said. It had been meant as a question, but came out as a plain observation.

“I’m not”, Yutaka said and bent down to look through the telescope again. There wasn’t a hint of doubt in his voice.

Shou envied him for the certainty. He had always thought that if a guy offered himself, Shou would probably take that offer. Because a lot of people he knew had tried before and there was nothing weird about it. And because Shou wasn’t really good with girls, he would have given it a try, too. But in his mind, it had always felt like a substitute, something that you dropped, once you got the chance to date a girl. Had Yutaka wanted to kiss him, Shou would have let him. Had Shou been left with the choice between kissing Yutaka or kissing Sakura, he would have kissed the girl. He had no idea what that meant. Probably that he was just curious, too.

He looked out onto the schoolyard again. Somehow, he was waiting Yutaka to ask him in return. If he did, Shou had no idea how to answer. But Yutaka did not ask.

In the distance below, Shou spotted a purple dot.

“Oh fuck”, he said under his breath. “There is Utahiroba Sensei. Looks like he is going home. He’ll check on us for sure, if the key is not with the gatekeeper yet.”

“Ah, man, too bad”, Yutaka muttered and started to fumble with the telescope. “We should head back then.”

Shou knelt down on the ground to help Yutaka with disassembling the telescope.

“Today was fun, though”, he said quietly.

Yutaka did not look up at Shou, but kept his eyes on his hands as he unscrewed the connecting part. He was smiling slightly.

“Yeah”, he agreed.

And for a moment, Shou thought that Yutaka was very visible indeed.

[agri-art-archive]

Shift  and Shiver

Warnings: This work contains body horror, blood, some graphic descriptions of said body horror, and general ill feelings under the Keep Reading line.  Description: A little drabble of how a certain scene in The Mind at Heart might go down. Really just an excuse for me to explore ideas concerning the Jekyll/Hyde transformation. I wanted to go for “magically getting torn apart”, and this is the first version of what I’m sure will become a series of experiments with how “magically torn apart” could play out. I hope you enjoy!

Shift and Shiver - Written Aug 2019

For a moment, before he opened his eyes, he believed he was back in the med-tent. 

Wind swooshed quietly through a multitude of little rips and tears, the spaces between the ground and flaps of the canvas tent. The air was warm and smelt of spiced fruit, bringing with it the muted buzz of a busy capital shaking itself awake in the dawning sun. 

For a moment he was wrapped in the comfort of familiar memory, quietly making a mental checklist of his tasks for the day as if he were still laying in his quarters.  Stock up on bandages… Check over inventory… Progress report of Ltn. Qwel'lyn, Strongarm, Bomber, Sel'vil…

For a moment everything was warm, right, then the sky splintered apart with a blinding, white flash and a fierce roared. Frigid raindrops hammered against the alleyway, and finally he opened his eyes. 

Dal'styr glanced around, shifting and drawing his coat closer around his body. A ramshackled eve stood as failing shelter between him and the downpour. As the air chilled, a murky fog rose up from the cobblestone and crept slowly down the grimmy alleyway, toward the little nook the Doctor had found crammed between two soot-stained brick buildings. In his desperate scramble away from Lo'dion the night before he'd made the decision to stop and rest, thankful for the small scrap of shelter; now he regretted not pushing on. His limbs ached, and a pressure was building behind his forehead that made his ears ring and soon promised a pounding headache. He hoped the theater would have something to treat the other more serious wounds across his back before they festered too much. He was already counting on the lashes splitting open once more as he started moving, and with the way his shirt clung uncomfortably to his skin- they'd probably bled through and dried to the cloth overnight.  

No use dreaming of a life he'd forsaken.

As he hauled himself up- catching the slimy wall with a hand to steady untrustworthy legs and sending a nearby rat skittering away with a scree- the very last wisp of groggy sleep disappeared. His back burned. Dal'styr started moving anyway, it was only another hour's walk. He could rest better soon. 

It was early enough in the day that the Doctor tried to take it easy, to slow his steps and be careful on his stiff, stinging ankle; however the looming threat of Maestonian Cavalry bloodhounds kept his movements jittery and heart pounding anxiously. 

He held his head down, avoiding the eyes of any equally skittish passerbys hunched against the rain. As soon as he could, he ducked off the garbage-strewn, cobblestone central road and into a putridly sweet sidealley. After a few quick glances around, the Doctor heaved a strangled sigh and rested gingerly against the wall of a Casket Company leaning precariously over the lane, hands pressed on the rough stone to serve as a cushion for his back. It brought no relief. As he'd walked his bones had started to ache, joints seering if he so much as thought of stretching them. His breath came ragged and tore at his throat, despite a lack of much exertion. 

He had to get to the Theater. He'd been told any supplies needed would be there for him. He could rest and start setting up a functional clinic for them as soon as the Cavalry gave up the chase. 

With a wet, rattling cough that left his glove speckled worryingly dark, he pushed off the wall and limped down the grimmy, detritus-littered alley. His ankle had gotten worse, and his other foot stung with every step. 

Hazy with exhaustion and pain, Dal'styr didn't notice until it was too late. A scraggly alleycat, bald spots scaled over with disease and missing half an ear, attempted a jump. It missed. Sending the metal can it had been aiming for to the stoneway. It clattered loudly under the Doctor's feet, echoing against the walls in such a way as to ring in his ears. He tripped; the world spun around him and suddenly cold bloomed down his right side. 

He gasped in surprise and pain, soon devolving into a ragged cough that left his ribs sore. Every movement ground bone against bone and left an uncomfortable warmth in its wake. 

It took three tries to get himself back up, breath coming in mighty, scratchy heaves of vapor that he could see before him. The Doctor stood there a moment, swaying, shivering in the cold and taking stock of the aftermath through muddled senses. His coat, already soaked through in the rain, only got muddy stains from the fall. An iron tang bittered his mouth, tongue thick and resting heavy behind his teeth. He felt ill, beyond ill. Muscles ached as if poisoned, bleeding from the lungs or throat. Head pounding. Bones sore from deep in the marrow, joints aflame. This wasn't limited to his actual wounds anymore, but stood as he was- now moved to rest against the edge of the Casket Company building on his uninjured shoulder- with the world swaying in blurred double vision, he couldn't hold a cohesive thought for more than a head-pounding second. 

Something was wrong. 

It had been building in his chest, in the blood of his bones and fiber of his being for a while now.   At first, immediately after that Night, he dismissed it as stress and exhaustion. Mae knows he suffered both far too often. Then it was dismissed as the flu, something that made him achy all over with the weather and the changing seasons.  Lately however, certain sensations had been pushing his certitude and his sanity. Crawling claws under his skin sent shivers down his spine, the gentlest of scents suddenly felt like fire, bringing tears to his eyes and leading to nosebleeds, sometimes sparking migraines that left him useless. In the quiet moments of day and night, whispered, incoherent and muted voices echoed all at once without there ever being any one there. At times, he was sure he caught glimpses of smokey eyes in glass reflected back at him in his peripheral vision. These days, everything often occurred all at once, starting slow but building into a cacophony that brought him to his knees, clutching his head and clenching his jaw against the hail of maddening confusion. 

Now everything was upon Dal'styr, skin itching uncomfortably and turning his stomach in knots. He couldn't heave- he'd eaten nothing. 

He cast an eye behind him, breath hitching as a wave of nausea swept over him, and forced stiff, uncooperative limbs to walk. He had to get to safety. He'd wasted enough time. 

The Doctor stumbled like a drunk the rest of the way, by some stray will of Mae managing to remain upright. Past dirty factories and clogged ditches, across a crumbling bridge splattered in once-colourful graffiti of at least a dozen generations of gutter poets. He hurried the last stretch of road, out in the open with the distant snorts and yowls of the cavalry's hounds nipping at his heels. Finally, the entrance to the series of back alleys leading into the theater's courtyard dawned ahead of him and soon he was safe; the rain held at bay by wildly untamed ivy and roses, growing thick above and along the sides of the path, abandoned long ago by whoever had first planted them. The last part of his trek passed in silence, relief bringing peace of mind but not of body, the world spinning desperately.

No sooner had Dal'styr set foot inside and bolted the door to the Theater behind him did he collapse, first to his knees and then keeled over to rest on his hands as well. Shadows twirled and swirled magnificently in his vision, the smell of dust, chemicals and blood clogged his nose. 

Everything was wrong. His ears rang.

He wanted to scream, maybe he had- scrabbling to take off his rain-drenched jacket as it clung too tightly to his skin, too uncomfortably. 

Except, it wasn't clothing. It wasn't anything that could be removed- it was his very skin, rippling and sending shudders across his flesh. Writhing movement under his hands as he flung the clothing away from him with a cry, eyes wide, gasping for air between wheezes. He bit down a scream, scorching heat flashing across his shoulders, his forearms, his back and sides.

The anchoring runes. 

A deep, unsettling dread weighed in his stomach, panic clawing at his throat.This was It. Whatever had been slumbering under his skin had finally decided to simply tear through. His mind screeched to a stop, and all he knew was pain. The first bone snapped with a sickening crack, and cry as he might, Mae couldn't reach his unholy soul to save him. In a snap of clarity, he understood all but nothing, small black dots dancing in his vision. 

A body was not built to contain such magic. 

The ink of the tattooed runes across his skin boiled, sight blurring beyond any cohesive thought as violent shreds of purple and black danced in a mind-numbing display around him. No matter where he looked, spinning around only to end up sprawled on his back upon the hardwood floor, he couldn't escape it. His ears rang to the point of pain, building and pressing against his drums until they popped and warmth bloomed down his skull, silencing his whimpers and mangled cries. He was pretty sure his eardrums had ruptured, but the rest of his body ached too much to tell one pain from another. Why hadn’t he passed out yet?

The Doctor tried closing his eyes, but he couldn't escape the overwhelming flashes of incomprehensible purple hues, head pounding in time with his heart.  He felt like he was being ripped apart and devoured, powerless and unable to move against an unknown force that pinned him to the floor. Something had broken under strain, and now unwilled magic claimed his soul, tearing muscle from bone in sharp gouges. Bones splintered and split, twisting inside his flesh. The feeling so sickly, unnatural, he screamed desperately, unable to breathe, to think- It continued on forever. His back arched up, arms pinned to his sides. Sickly purple danced across his vision. He felt heavy, compressed and stitched back together incorrectly. His body shifted and twisted, snapping and sloshing, cracking, gloshing back together. The Doctor felt everything, clawed at his ribs as they fractured, pleaded to all who might hear when his organs ruptured inside his abdominal cavity and subsequently mended with nauseating squelches. He cried when his heart jittered and sputtered, skipping a beat or three and rippling debilitating aches across the core of every muscle in his body. 

Then it ended. 

Skin that had torn and marched its way across his flesh settled, bones mended with sharp hisses. Blood gurgled, stopped pouring from his nose, his eyes, his ears. Throat burning, but everything else settling into low, throbbing soreness along his body, Dal'styr lay on the floor for an eternity, curled in shivering fetal position on his side. Cold settled into his veins. His flesh was not his own, it felt wrong. Wrong and sickening to the stomach. Everything was pressed in, as if he were under the ocean, every breath labored. 

It had ended just as suddenly as it started, not even five minutes ago. 

Dal’styr coughed up blood, slowly coming back to awareness and recognizing the bitter metallic tang in his mouth for what it was. The air was charged in the wake of what… ever had happened. Sharp and brittle, exactly as it was after an extended use of magic. Spots of inexplicable light danced across his vision from where flashes of purple had burned into his retinas. His eyes stung, closing them brought little relief to a bullet-like migraine parading across his brain. He brought a hand up to dab at the cooling, sticky liquid under his nostrils but quickly found his limbs heavy, uncooperative and shaking terribly. 

He tried to take in a deep breath, but his ribs ached and clicked with the last few movements of resettlement, stealing the oxygen from his lungs. His ears were still ringing. He could only hear his sputtering heart and the blood rushing past his temple. His joints took the longest to cooperate, creaking like unoiled hinges, grinding and burning against each other. Once certain his shaking legs could hold him, and with a chair, the wall and a shelf's help, he was back on his feet, swaying with the kind of lightheadedness he might've called blood loss. 

There was a mirror on the counter just across from where he now stood, and bracing himself for the horrifying magic-mangled scars he expected- took a look at himself. 

He did not recognize the face of his reflection.

[ameliegardot]

‘ we aren’t a thing. ’

"You think I don't know that?" She folded her arms and stood her ground. "Seriously, what kind of creep-a-zoid do you think I am, Wheeler? Do you think I just sit back in English class writing 'Mrs. Amélie Wheeler' in the margins of my notebook?"

She was really beginning to get herself worked up. She just thought it would be nice to invite him to the arcade with her since they'd been at each other's throats since the whole drawing fiasco. Did this guy seriously think she was that smitten by him?

News flash, asshole! Not every babe in a bomber jacket wants to fuck you!

Sometimes, people are just considerate of others! Maybe he should try it sometime. Like, was he some sort of sadist? Where the fuck did he get off talking to her like that? Why did he constantly feel the need to act as if she was a step away from kissing his boots to get a date with him. If she was going to bend over backwards for someone, it would be Patrick Swayze or Robert Downey Jr. or something. Hell, it'd be Molly Ringwald! It certainly wouldn't be him.

"Cause guess what, dickhead? I don't!I might be some virgin loser, but I still don't want to be with you. And, wait a minute-- doesn't that reflect badly on you? That not even someone as 'lame' and 'desperate' as you think I am would want to sleep with you? Now that's a whole new level of sad, Zachary."

She had to admit, it felt good to really lay it out there. It felt damn good to be forward and be a real bitch to him! After all, when would she ever have the excuse to be mad again?

Still, the lingering feelings for him that she harbored all the way from middle school tugged at her heart strings. Her heart said to apologize and that he was still nice somewhere inside, but her brain said to kick him where it hurts because he deserved it.

She settled for a disappointing neither.

"Why don't you go jerk off in the bathroom and take a chill pill." She rolled her eyes. "Remind me not to be nice to you next time I try. You aren't worth the effort."

Below the snarky comments and the forced strength to say it, her heart hurt. Was she really so bad to be around? She wasn't even at the bottom of the high school food chain. She was in the dead middle. No real reputation. So what was the deal? She couldn't even talk to him without him trying to give her some weird fucking reminder that they weren't romantcially involved?

In what world would she think they were? That there was even a chance?

[bluboothalassophile]

The Jacket...

Happy Birthday @purplepenner! You are a delightful friend and I’m hoping for all the best for you this year!

~~~*~*~*~~~

Jason grumbled as he moved through his closet looking for his leather jacket; the one that didn’t have blood on it, because he was currently cleaning that one. And he needed to repair the one that had new bullet holes in it, and the other one with a knife slash on it. He just needed to go to Alfred to get these all fixed up and patched up, but right now was not the time for that, because right now he had to get ready for a date. It wasn’t often, but it was a real, first date, and he couldn’t find his damn jacket!

“Oi, Roy! Have you seen my jacket?” he shouted as he came down the stairs. Lian ran up to him, her pigtails flying as she grinned toothily, Ace trotting behind her, and she held up a drawing.

“Jay! Jay! Look what I did!” Lian squealed.

It was a childish drawing of her and her family, he smiled as he took it. “Looks great kiddo, we’ll hang it on the fridge,” he decided. Though they were rapidly running out of space on the fridge.

“What’d you ask?” Roy asked, appearing in a tux, with his hair hastily combed back.

“Uh… my jacket, have you seen it? And what’s with the monkey suit? Is there some shindig I wasn’t privy too?” Jason asked. His cheek itched a bit, but he ignored that as he looked his best friend over.

“Yeah,” Roy said walking to the island. “Donna asked me to be her date for some UN ball thingy, huge deal, and she didn’t want to go alone since Diana’s on that offworld mission, you know.”

“Huh, well you look less scruffy. But seriously, where’s my jacket?” Jason sighed.

“Why? Hot date?”

“Actually yes, Kyle has a friend he wants to set us up,” Jason stated leaning on the counter.

“Is this friend male, female, and are they human?” Roy asked.

“Human female, Kyle assured me,” Jason said.

“That’s a relief, and I think I saw Rae take one of your jacket,” Roy said pulling a beer then.

“Son of a Bitch!” he hissed.

“Jay said bad word daddy!” Lian shouted.

“Remember what we said,” Roy and Jason said.

“Right, I cannot repeat Jay,” Lian agreed.

“You be good for Biz and Arty tonight,” Roy smiled.

“Yes daddy!” Lian beamed, Jason chuckled as he watched her dart out of the kitchenette for where Bizarro was currently reading a quantum theory book.

“You sure you’re ready to go on a date, Jay?” Roy asked, trying to tie his tie.

He didn’t say anything, recent traumas of the past few years alone had him reluctant to do anything as Jason Todd, but Kyle had insisted. Kyle had pointed out a few nasty points to Jason over a few beers and Jason had relented; if only to have a sense of normalcy… Which Jason was expecting to go to hell midway through the date. But fuck it, it was worth a shot.

“What I need is a particular little bird to stop stealing my clothes,” Jason muttered. He’d wear the jacket with the knife slash, could just say he tore it.

~~~*~*~*~~~

“You do know that you buy clothes for girls you’re dating, right Jay?” Stephanie asked him again as they were now browsing the racks for a selection of leather jackets.

“It’s buy her the jackets, or continue to have the wardrobe thief thwarted,” he retorted. Raven had to stop stealing his clothes; besides, it wouldn’t be that odd if he bought her garments. They’d been in a shirt war for years; to the point where he didn’t have a single normal shirt left in his closet.

“Little brother,” Cass chided.

“We have actual evidence that I am older than you, also I am obviously larger, now what about this?” he asked pulling out a bomber’s leather jacket, it was black, the fur inline was dark grey, and it was fitted with ivory colored buttons. Looked about her style, especially with the silver buckle.

“She’d love that,” Stephanie and Cass stated in unison. It looked about her size and Jason decided that it was perfectly fine for her. Walking up to the counter he bought two other jackets to give to her later just in case before he walked out with his sisters and proceeded to argue with them about his love and sex life, and the difference between the two, though why it was their business was beyond him!

~~~*~*~*~~~

Rae was engrossed in her current book; yes she was reading a Song of Ice and Fire; it was enthralling, she couldn’t believe it had taken her this long to read it. Suddenly there was a heavy thud on the other end of the couch which had her jolting out of her fantasy world to the reality and stared dumbly at Jason.

“Hey little bird,” he smiled.

“Jason, what are you…?” she asked then double checked where she was; she was at home in the Siren’s HQ.

“Well, I’m here because you stole my NICE leather jacket, because I needed that for my date yesterday, so today, I thought I’d swing by for a trade,” he said as he smiled.

“How did the date go!?” she asked eagerly, putting her book to the side to give him her undivided attention.

“Well, it wasn’t shit and nothing blew up, we agreed to try it again,” he omitted. “Now Rae…” he drawled her name out. “My jacket.”

“Well it’s so comfy!” she started.

“Go get the jacket, I’m proposing a trade, love,” he sighed.

Raven pursed her lips but did as he had asked, getting up to retrieve his jacket from her room. Walking back to the living area she held it out only for him to hand her a box as he took his jacket back. “What’s this!?” she asked.

“Well open it,” he suggested brushing past her to the kitchen. Raven set the box on the counter then carefully opened it, her eyes widened at the beautiful jacket in it, which had her gaping a bit.

“Now you have no excuse to steal my jacket!” he announced triumphantly. “Is that my hoodie?” he demanded.

“Maybe…”

[leefelixs]

boyfriend lee felix • stray kids

genre: fluff

pairing: lee felix & you

word count: 1548 words

summary: dating felix and all the quirks/aspects of your relationship

notes: the eighth part of the boyfriend series with our second aussie, felix! (i got like 5 requests for him i hope you felix stans enjoy this please feast on this content haha) 

being with felix is like a guarantee there will never be a dull moment, he’s so good at livening the area around him and any situation

he’s still a teenage boy too so there’s a lot of fun aspects of your relationship and lots of simple parts to it

there’s no rush or pressure for either of you, in fact there’s a certain point in your relationship where you get so comfortable with each other you could sit in silence for hours and he feels fine zoning off around you

felix himself is pretty laid back about the relationship because it’s not something new to him and he trusts himself to learn more about you to make it work (cause you know those fanaccs mention our boy has game)

also because you guys are actually together now, back in the day when he just had a crush he was so shy it was painful

loves playing video games with you (and he tries not to be competitive with you because duh he likes you but he does scream and thrash around a little)

whenever you stress out he’s there to give you a lil massage! at first you doubt his abilities but like it actually helps you and you’re like okay keep doing that actually

it’s no secret that he really loves swimming so he probably drags you along to the pool or beach with him when it’s not cold out

probably splashes you and shoots you with a water gun until you come in with him

“felix use that thing one more time i swear-”

“wait!” and he just shoots you right in the face “i can’t hear you, speak up!”

always has jokes to crack even if they’re terrible and embarrassing just because he thinks those are the best

always has a smile around you, even when he’s thinking it’s faintly there!

uh he’s kinda of a clutz it’s not anything too bad but when he starts wandering in his mind he’ll like accidentally run into you and he just rubs your head to make sure you’re okay

all his habits...become your habits (is it a gift or a curse?)

i didn’t want to have to mention this but we have to be accurate and lee felix dabs at least once every episode so here we go...yes he dabs

but you don’t even have the heart to make fun of him or make any sarcastic comments

and eventually it just becomes your habit too

whenever he wants your attention he is not afraid to be excessive to get it or be a little embarrassing

“hey excuse me. look at me. your boyfriend is calling you. hey. hey. hey. psst. over here.”

and you’re just like mmm hold up and felix is very impatient and starts dancing around you to get your attention

and he lands in front of you raising his eyebrows (he does this whenever he wants a kiss or he points at his lips or cheeks its..cute)

and you finally give in and smother him in little kisses and he’s all giddy

“felix...you promised i could do it today.”

“well yeah but to be fair i thought you would forget.”

“your freckles are serious business, how could i forget?”

“okay, i’ll let you but only because i like you. please don’t ruin my face or use a permanent marker.”

yes...he lets you play connect the dots with his freckles! he’s not sure why you’re so obsessed with them and he wishes you could have seen him when he still had more because you just draw all over them and poke at them

you think you have dirt on him? no way. he shows you all his pre debut pictures. he has no shame about them because he 100% trusts you and is comfortable with you and sometimes he even recreates them with you as a joke

he says vine references and you finish them

uhm maybe you’re not good at korean or you are, but nonetheless he comes to you for help and to keep him focused on learning

you’ve gotten so used to carrying a pen around to help him work on his pronunciation and you have little flashcards always and it warms his heart wow he is so lucky

will take things from you and hold them up low, high, behind him, move it around fast to fluster you and play around with you

“i need my phone back felix c’mon!”

“what a coincidence i need a new phone too.”

“just give me my phone!”

“i can exchange it for a kiss?”

and he was kidding but like you took it seriously (but you’re not gonna hold his throat like changbin) and he actually shrieks when you kiss him 

spoils you just a liiitle too much... like he has no problem dropping lots of money for you on trinkets and stuff if it makes you happy

he really doesn’t care about having fancy dates unless you want to

actually your first date was him ordering chinese take out food and sitting with you on his couch, watching the avengers and both of you wearing sweatpants and hoodies

texts you with those little emoticons “^.^ “T.T” “^_^” and uses a ‘~’ at the end of most of his texts and its actually really endearing

conflict between you both would often stem from a lack of confidence from felix

he doesn’t think you would ever do something to harm him, but rather he doesn’t trust himself to be good enough to make you happy and makes distance between you both sometimes because of it

it’s always hard to fix it because he’s not willing to admit his lack of self confidence

but you guys work on it together! you make sure to shower him in compliments and put little sticky notes on his things about how much you like him and its so cute

and one night when you go back to your house you realize those sticky notes all over your things from him...

and after picking a bunch up from your furniture the last one on your mirror says ‘and most of all, i love you’

he’s really shy about it when you mention it and he’s like “me? i did that?”

“well i would hope so because i should probably change the lock to my house then.”

and he just smiles at the floor and shakes his head “nah, i did that. i love you but i didn’t have the guts to say it.”

makes little noises like his mosquito ones to bother you and make you think there’s actually a mosquito but it always backfires

“do you hear that?”

“hear what? i don’t hear anything babe. i think you’re imagining it.” and he starts again so you look around and smack the side of his face vEry softly (emphasis on very) and make the noise

“you just used my own trait against me what the heck?”

his bomber jackets are yours sorry he has no room to protest (not that he minds either)

calls you ‘dork’ affectionately and always puts his arm around you and squeezes your shoulder 

you guys shove each other a lot playfully until one of you drags the other down with them and you guys land on the floor all tangled up and laughing while he flicks your forehead

“why are you so smiley felix?”

“because i was thinking about how stupidly lucky i am to have you.”

he has a spam instagram where it’s either pictures of some strange tumblr reminiscent meme or a picture of you off guard

and always captioning it cheesy stuff like ‘my baby is so cute!’ ‘look at this dork’ ‘i’m teaching them how to  ‘ @ (y/n) stop being cute or i’m suing you’

instead of being cute and feeding each other you guys try to throw food at each other and see who can catch the most 

“i was out today with seungmin and jisung, this reminded me of you.”

“how did an alarm clock remind you of me?”

“because you’re worth my time.” and he just winks right at you while you laugh and wheeze

even if his jokes aren’t funny or well thought out you still laugh...gotta hype him up you know!

you probably have to carry chap stick for him because the kid is always biting his lips and he’s like hey...this tastes like cherry wanna try and you’re like lol no

always giving each other high fives and right after he spins you around

he brings out a side of you that is a lot less concerned with image

you find yourself worried about what people think constantly but felix comes around and makes you feel beyond that, you don’t feel like you need to bring out your best to be with him and make him happy 

he loves you for who you are and the heart you have

and the times he’s happiest is when he’s goofing off with you whether it’s both of you screaming about a movie, running and chasing each other around the house, teaching you something new like a sport, getting into little food fights, having the worst pictures of each other...all of it means a lot to him

[hoseokmylovesworld]

Picture of Love | 07

Pairing: Photographer!Hoseok x OC x Producer!Yoongi

Genre/Warnings: Hoseok AU/Yoongi AU/Includes strong language.

Words: 3,330

Summary: Charlotte Galloway is the leader of the up and coming girl band, “She-Bang”, with a side hustle as a photographer for anyone who will hire her.  She meets a fellow professional photographer named Jung Hoseok who helps “She-Bang” realize their dreams and Charlotte to make a love connection along the way.

I knew better than to think that the girls would be keeping to themselves, sleeping or doing anything other than pestering me as soon as I walk through the hotel room door. So when I am greeted with exactly that, I am not surprised whatsoever.

"How was it?"

"Did you have fun?"

"Did you fuck?"

Is all I hear on my journey through the hotel room, hanging up my jacket and slipping off my shoes on my way to my bed. I send a glare in Leyah's direction, knowing where that last question came from, before I sit at the head of my bed. The girls proceed to get comfortable around me, awaiting details of my date with J-Hope.

"So?" Carrie begins the interrogation. I sigh humorously and call back tonight's events.

"Okay...well basically we just went to dinner at Gary Danko." I pause for collective oo's and ah's heard around the bed. "Yeah." I comment with a smug smile. "We just talked...and flirted. A lot." I laughed and the girls follow suit.

"We just got to know each other...yeah." I say still dazed by how amazing tonight was and satisfies with my description.

"Awwwww!" Squealed Carrie causing the rest of us to roll our eyes and eventually laugh at her.

And I thought I was the softy. "What?! That was cute as fuck." She defended. I just shrug.

"But Gary Danko. I thought this kid was a photographer." Leyah chimed in.

"He is." As far as I know.

"Must be dealing on the side or somethi-"

"Leyah!" I chide her. She snickers at me. "Sorry. I'm sure he's not Char...doesn't seem like the type anyway." She murmurs the last bit under her breath. "Okay." I say signaling that this conversation is over. The girls and I sit in silence for a few before Vicky's curiosity gets the better of her.

"So you really didn't do anything?" she asks with squinted eyes. I can only assume she meant sexually because Leyah adds "I know right?! That's what I'm saying.", incredulously. "Yeah." Carrie adds. I literally drop my face to rest in my palm at their lack of faith in my will power.

"Guys, come on. It's not like I'm fighting myself not to jump J-Hope whenever I see him." Although I am. "...We did kiss though." I finished looking down at the bed awaiting judgement.

"WHAT?"

"When were you gonna tell us this?!"

"Was he good?"

I nod in shame. "Yeah. Sorry, I kinda forgot, somehow. And yes, he's amazing." I smile at the memory of it. The girls oggle me. I suspect they took pity on me in my transformation into a lovesick fool and decided to lay off because they stopped teasing me.

"So are you gonna see him again?" Vicky asks gently. "Yes." I answer immediately and she smiles brightly at me. "Good" I hear Leyah say as she leaves my bed to find her own. "You deserve this Char." Vicky an Carrie find their way to the other half of the suite.

I just nod in thanks, not knowing how to respond. "Okay guys, don't get all soft on me now." I try to pull myself together and get things back to normal. 

"No, I believe you're the soft one." Leyah shot back. "Wahtever, I-" I start with her, but am interrupted by my cell phone ringing in my pocket. Looking at the caller ID, I say "Oh that's him now.", sweetly and picked up the call a bit too quickly. Stupid, stupid Char.

"Hey Jay." I greet him in the sweetest, most alluring voice I can muster at the moment, ignoring the gagging noises Leyah is making next to me.

"Hey there. I'm just getting in, wanted to let you know and see what we could work out about this photo shoot."

"Oh yes! Give me a second." I press the reciver of the phone to my chest and turn to the girls. "When are you all free to do the photo shoot with J-Hope?"

"I'm free whenever." Leyah droans.

"Yeah, me too." Vicky says.

"So I'm hearing tomorrow? Carrie?" I ask to make things official. Carrie doesn't speak for a couple moments and then utters "Um...I have a date tomorrow." Her eyes are everywhere, but on the girls and I start to get confused by her behavior.

We just gushed, literally gushed, over my date with J-Hope. We abolished our ban on romance and we are allowed to date again. So what's making Carrie act so preserved about it?

The silence passes as I congratulate her, not knowing what else to do I say, "Carrie, that's great!"

"Yeah, bro it's okay. We'll do it another time." Leyah adds. But Carrie still has that deer caught in the headlights look frozen on her face.

"So who is this guy, what's his name?" Its my turn to be nosey.

"...Her name is Roselin."

"Oh." Is my immediate reaction to her words. After that the girls are all silent. Not because we disapprove of her choice, but because we never knew Carrie was remotely into girls.

"That's great!" I say, awkwardly breaking the silence once again. "I'm so happy for you." Leyah and Vicky are quick to murmur in agreement.

Carrie gives a hint of a smile. "Thanks guys." she whispers, still looking down. "So I'm hearing Monday at noon?" Each of the girls nods and I relay the message to J-Hope. "That sounds perfect actually. I'll send you the address and details tonight. Oh and bring your equipment if you can."

"Okay, yeah sure. We can do that." Making a note to tell Kyle and Darren they actually had to do something in two days.

"Cool." J-Hope answers smoothly.

"Hey, thank you so much again for doing this, the girls and I really appreciate it." I stressed over the phone.

"Hey, don't even worry about it Char. I'm happy to do this for you." He assured "...and maybe your band too." He finished, making me chuckle. "Like I said, I really appreciate it Jay." I say dragging out my words in, hopefully, a seductive manor. Maybe I will repay him for his generosity in some other way, who knows. I can hear him let out a huff of air and I can just see his smug smile. "Oh. Ha. It's nothing." "Well, I'm gonna turn in now, so I'll see you on Monday?" I ask. "Yes you will. Goodnight, Charlotte." His sweet, deep voice drawled. "Goodnight, Jay."

+++++++++++++++++++++++

J-Hope had given me the address to an apartment building full of lofts that were apparently for sale. We were instructed to take the equipment to first floor of the building. We drug our instruments through the corridor that lead to the first loft in the complex and I was so impressed with and in awe of the scene we were met with after walking through the unlocked door that lead to our photo shoot.

The structure of the loft itself was beautiful. It was a spacious warehouse style with hard wood floors, concrete walls, a high ceiling and was only made up of the one room apart from the bathroom. The room was incredibly spacious and had a high ceiling to accommodate the fire escape-like steps that lead to the second-half-floor. I'd never seen anything like it in person. Not to mention the glorious sight of multiple white backdrops and lights in every corner with people to man them.

"Whoa." Is all I uttered as I walked further into the room, my friends behind me. "Yeah." Leyah weighed in.

I spot J-Hope talking to a pretty lady in a suit who looks to be in her mid-thirties, that beautiful camera in hand.  He notices me at nearly the same time, smiling that blinding smile immediately in greeting. He looks breath taking in all black, bomber jacket, ripped jeans, pumas and all. His black hair parted down the middle, barely exposing his forehead and drawing attention to adorable glasses resting comfortably on his nose. God, is anyone else seeing this?

"Charlotte!" He approaches us, the lady he was talking to following behind him. "Jay!" I return his enthusiasm. Letting his camera hang around his neck, he leans in to peck me surprisingly on the cheek and grabs my guitar case from my hands in one fluid motion. I'm officially frozen to my spot in embarrassment and shock. He doesn't seem to notice as he greets the rest of the group.

"Hello everyone. This is Janice Bailey, this is actually her building." J-Hope explains. I unfreeze and promptly reach for Janice's hand to shake it. "It's nice to meet you. Thank you so much for letting us use this space. I'm Char." I say shaking her hand a little to wildly. "It's nice to meet you all as well. And I simply owed Hoseok a favor, this was him calling it in. I only wish to observe today's events." So that's how you say his name.

"If that's okay with you all." J-Hope looks over the group for objections, as do I. "Yeah, of course. It's fine." I assure them. "Great! You guys can set up whatever you need to against that backdrop over there." He said pointing to the largest backdrop of them all. I gently grip J-Hope's jacket before he can help She-Bang, Darren and Kyle to set up the drum set and keyboard. "What is all this Jay?" I whisper to him. "What?" He looked down at me with a clueless expression on his face. I just tilt my head to the right and lift my right brow. "This."

I gesture to our surroundings. I start to count the people in the room that seem to be helping with the shoot. There are six. One man is helping the group put together the instruments, one man is finishing setting up the backdrops, a woman is checking the lighting, another man seems to be already editing test photos and the last man and woman are stood at the back of the room talking over coffee. The woman excuses herself from the conversation to search through a crate of some sort that looks chuck full of makeup products. That's when I notice the coffee, donuts and other goodies along the wall near the bathroom. My jaw drops.

"Is that a makeup artist?" I ask incredulously. J-Hope pauses before responding. "I just wanted to be prepared." He sighed. "But you all showed up looking beautiful as always." He brushes the back of his fingers against my cheek and I deflate, all feelings of anxiety vanishing from my body at once. I sigh as well.

"You really didn't need to do all this." I remind him, wondering why someone would do all this for me.

"I wanted to. It's nothing really." He shakes his head drops his hand down to my arm before giving it a gently squeeze. I glance up at him in awe. "Thank you." I say for the thousandth time. He just nods and leads me to the rest of the band at the larger backdrop. As I turn around my eyes meet Darren's focused ones, he immediately looks away with a clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows.

Right. Almost forgot about Darren's pure hatred for J-Hope. Please God, let this go well.

J-Hope carefully took Bruce, my guitar, out of it's case and handed it to me and then handed the case to one of his staff...Friends? Employees? Is he paying them for this?! I feel uneasiness rise in me once again. This all too much. I know he said he wouldn't charge us, but I could never pay him back for this. On the other hand, as I look around I realize I've never had anyone go to this length to impress or even make me happy. Darren breaks me out of my trance.

"You okay, Char?" he asks, from the sidelines of the drop to my left. My head cocks in his direction and I sigh before replying "Yes.", trying to reassure myself as well. He just nods, unconvinced.

"Okay guys!" An energetic J-Hope grabs my attention next. "While Leyah is sitting at the drum set and everyone has their instruments, why don't we get some somewhat candid shots?" The girls and I nod in understanding. My hands fly to a familiar chord on my guitar so that I look more natural. We even have some amps set up in the front and back to look more authentic.

J-Hope starts taking pictures frantically from different angles and the girls and I look at the camera fiercely, kind of loving the attention after a few moments I look passed the camera to J-Hope in awe. It's downright impressive to watch him in his zone and easy to see why he's in his position.

He knows how to get a specific reaction from his clients and knows how to capture their best sides, even though there are four of us, going as far as instructing some of us to pose specifically to get a good vantage point.

We immediately lock eyes when he looks up from the camera to us to gather himself and his next approach. He smiles fondly at me and I'm forced to drop my gaze to the floor and smile stupidly. Dumb ass.

"Charlotte." My eyes immediately flip up to meet J-Hope's, awaiting further instruction. "Could you possibly tilt your head to the left and jut your chin out the slightest bit?" I ponder his request in my head with a confused expression and attempt the position he just described.

"More out." He demanded. Attempt #2. I try to follow the order I've been given.

"No, like more natural. He offers, even trying to pose himself to serve as example. Okay, attempt number three. "Uh...No." He gives up and approaches me. Modelling is hard. J-Hope reaches me with his arms stretched out towards me, but pauses.

"May I?" He asks with curious eyes. I can only assume he's asking if he can touch my face and I accept.

He takes hold of my chin with his thumb and index finger with a gentle grip and redirects my head to fit his vision. His attention goes lower and to my chest and my eyebrows sky rocket until I see he actually means to adjust my jacket caught under my guitar strap. It is then that I realize I would not give a fuck if J-Hope were actually checking out my cleavage right now and I'm actually shocked and kind of offended that he isn't. The fuck?

He then makes his way back up like he's studying me for any detail out of place. His eyes lock on the hair hanging against my face and he reaches up rearrange the strand, but as he finishes we make eye contact once more. We've only been this close with each other three other times and this time I really took the time to appreciate how actually beautiful this man is up close. What is his damn skin routine?!

I hear someone clear their throat off to side, breaking me out of my trance and I realize J-Hope and I have been staring at each other that entire time. Great. J-Hope clears his throat as well, but out of embarrassment.

J-Hope continues on with the shoot just as professional as ever before making a wonderful request to Leyah. "Leyah, can you actually play the drums for a little bit?" Leyah shrugs her shoulders and plays a simple groove and Vicky decides to add a fitting baseline. Carrie and I follow suit because we can't let half the group have a jam session by themselves.

After a few minutes I'm not even worried about the camera because this place has the best acoustics I've ever heard and I finally feel totally comfortable.

J-Hope then had us move to the second backdrop across the loft without the instruments to take group shots. Leyah took full advantage of this opportunity to annoy me to no end without the consequence of me beating her ass because we're in public, but it made everyone else laugh and J-Hope wouldn't stop snapping photos so we must be doing something right. 

Soon J-Hope ran the photos by us and we deemed the shoot successful and done. He's even agreed to spread the word about us to his celebrity friends. Not sure how seriously the rest of the group took that statement, but I held fast to that promise and am incredibly thankful. One of J-Hope's staff saves the pictures on a flash drive and the girls go to get the instruments packed up along with Darren and Kyle as I approach J-Hope.

"Jay, thank you again. This means so much to us." I say for umpteenth time. He just smiles at the floor before gazing up at me with kind eyes. "Don't mention it Charlotte, really. I actually had a lot of fun today. I actually took some video too, of the jam session if you're interested in that." he offers.

"Thank you. Yeah, no kidding. You were...amazing today." Damn, just suck his dick right here, why don't you?

J-Hope looks genuinely humbled by my compliment. "Thank you so much Charlotte. Maybe the roles can be reversed in the future." He proposed suggestively. "Whatever I take wouldn't be able to touch this, but sure." I accept, as I would any opportunity to learn from J-Hope. He pulls a face and says "I'm sure they would be incredible." He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. This kid is really into skin ship, which is more than I'm used to, but I can't see myself complaining.

Just let it happen Char.

"Hey, what are you doing for the rest of the day?" He brings his hand to wrap around my waist and rest on my lower back, only his camera between us. Hopefully you.

"Nothing, why?" I look up at him with hopeful eyes.

"How about an early dinner?" He invites licking his lips.

"I would love that." I answer more to his lips than to him. I assume I've been caught because he chuckles at my response and completely takes me by surprise when he pecks my lips. If I could blush I would, but instead I smile like an idiot as he lifts his hand to my shoulder and leads me over to my waiting group of friends.

"I'm gonna stick around here with Jay, you guys can go without me." Darren nods with a tired expression and exits the loft without a word, carrying the kick drum, symbols and one amp. Everyone looks at the exit for a few moments before returning our attention each other.

"Okayyy. Thank you for today J-Hope, you're a real one." Leyah says nodding and sporting a genuine smile. Vicky and Carrie follow suit and gives their thanks as well.

"It was no trouble at all ladies. You all did great work today." He responds, giving my shoulder a ginger squeeze. And smiling at the floor like an idiot becomes my permanent stance. How can someone make someone feel this stupid and good about themselves all at the same time?

"We'll see you at the hotel Char." The girls and Kyle say their goodbyes on their way out the door and then its just me, J-Hope and his crew.

"Okay, I have to stick around for a bit and get everything packed up before we can go." He explains. "That's okay I'll help out." I reply. J-Hope gives me an appreciative look and then nods. "Thanks, Charlotte." I help Jay and his crew clean up the drops, lights, tables and stands and snack on the provided donuts. I even take some for the girls because there are still so many left. I thank the crew for all their hard work today and soon I'm being escorted into J-Hope's car on our way to dinner.

[officetime02-blog]

7 Middle School Status Symbols That Still Haunt My Dreams At 27

Peter and I have started keeping a running tally of the Canada Goose jackets we see in New York City. (When I say “running tally” I mostly mean we squawk at each other whenever we see one. Because it’s a goose!) They are easy to spot, once you know what they look like, because they are everywhere. One morning while out in the West Village, a neighborhood full of quaint facades hiding extremely expensive interiors, we counted more than 20. And it’s truly shocking to me how ubiquitous they’ve become among a certain faction of New Yorkers — I’m sure they are incredibly warm, but they are all but devoid of any kind of personality. Out in the wild, I only ever see them in black, despite being manufactured in a few different (though subdued) colors. Plus, most of the bomber jackets and parkas start around $800.

Of course, I can’t speak to the quality of this specific brand, and I do think a high-quality winter coat is a super important investment if you live somewhere cold (and can afford the splurge). But I just see so many of these coats specifically. The point of wearing a Canada Goose jacket is probably to stay warm, but it’s also undeniably to be seen with that red patch on your shoulder — to let the people know just how much you probably spent on that one coat.

I recently realized how much these coats’ popularity reminds me of the status symbols in my middle and high school. I grew up in the Northeast Atlanta suburbs in a pretty upper-middle class neighborhood. (My high school was pretty diverse, my middle school less so, and the neighborhood where I lived was mostly white.) My parents certainly did well for themselves, but they didn’t spend their money in the same ways others seemed to — we were one of the comfortable minivan families, not one of the Lincoln SUV ones. My mom has always loved shopping and clothes and certainly passed that on to me, but she never let me buy something simply because everyone else had it. I’m grateful for this now, but there were so many specific things that it seemed all the other (and usually “popular”) kids had that I was jealous of.

I’m often reminded of the often bizarre items that ended up being status symbols in my own adolescence, so thought it might be fun to take a little stroll down memory lane. (For reference, I was in middle school 2003-2006, and I graduated high school in 2010.) Here are seven specific middle school status symbols that still personally haunt me, despite the fact that I never owned most of them:

1. Tiffany heart lock necklaces.

I’m talking very specifically about the chunky chainlink ones that clasped in the front (like this one). I’m not sure which came first — the opening shot of Elle Woods fastening her Tiffany heart necklace in Legally Blonde, or the same necklace being worn on the necks of WASPy 13-year-old girls everywhere. The closest I ever got was a knockoff version from Claire’s, which is definitely for the best considering the probably dozens of jewelry items I have misplaced in the last decade and a half. Now looking back, it feels like the entire point of them was to be instantly recognizable while still boring enough to fit with pretty much any outfit. Also, they were probably an excuse to buy something with the Tiffany logo without having to shell out for a diamond. (Chanel logo earrings definitely fall into the same category.)

2. Northface fleece jackets.

Yes, in my Atlanta suburb, where we got about two and a half weeks of “winter” each year, bland-ass Northface jackets were a dime a dozen on kids from wealthier white families — most often black for boys and the powder blue color for girls. Occasionally you’d see an eggplant color or something, if the person was feeling super edgy. Kids also definitely took note if you were wearing a fleece jacket that happened to not have the Northface logo connoting a $100+ price tag. Why a bunch of well-off children in Atlanta really took to the aesthetic of an athletic wear/outdoor gear company while spending the majority of their time in air conditioning, I do not know. Northface still makes these jackets and they look almost exactly the same, which probably says something both about the timelessness of good sportswear and just how obsessed with blending in teenagers can be.

3. Birkenstocks.

This one became particularly hilarious to me after I left for college in Vermont and found out the William H. Macy caricature of a Vermonter from Thank You For Smoking was quite based in reality. Again, why a bunch of suburban kids in Georgia grabbed onto a brand synonymous with granola outdoorsy-ness, I’m not sure. I actually did convince my parents I needed a pair of these and got some chocolate-brown mules for Christmas one year. They were invariably comfortable, and I wore the crap out of them for several years — at which point they really started looking like crap.

4. Polos with an Abercrombie & Fitch moose or a Hollister seagull.

Now here’s where you could inject a bit of personality: into the color of your polo shirt! I’m thinking specifically 2005-2006. Some kids would even double-layer their polo shirts and pop the collars up. The Abercrombie and Hollister brands were the lowest price tier to be deemed acceptable in certain circles. I never even loved polo shirts, but I’m sure I asked for one of these at some point. I definitely would not have bothered trying to acquire a logo-less polo shirt, because what on earth would even be the point?

5. Polos with the actual Ralph Lauren polo horse.

Everyone seemed to notice the kids who took it a step further and wore “legitimate” polo shirts — another bland, unchanging institution of a wardrobe item that can easily cost you $80-100. Lacoste alligators were a dime a dozen, too. Maybe a lot of the kids I knew actually shopped at outlet malls, and I just never knew about it?

6. Multicolor print Dooney & Burke purses.

As with the Canada Goose jackets that have virtually taken over Manhattan, you’ll probably note that all of the items on this list up to this point are a little on the neutral/purposely inoffensive side. Not these purses, bitch! They came in all kinds of cartoonishly colorful patterns that I think back on fondly the way one might think of a Lisa Frank trapper keeper — like yeah that was fun but also, yikes! (I think I’m specifically thinking of the cartoon heart pattern, which I absolutely lusted after and, sadly, never obtained.) Granted, they made sure you still knew exactly who made each bag, either with a full-on repeated-logo print (ripping off the even-more-expensive Louis Vuitton print, I’ve always assumed?) or a decent-sized “Dooney & Bourke” metal plaque.

7. Velour Juicy Couture tracksuits.

I actually did get one of these! My mom and I found it at the Saks outlet for like 70% off. It was dark purple and had an angel, and also the word “angel,” embroidered and bedazzled on the back. It was extremely comfortable and I wore it constantly. But I also can’t deny that, like every other girl in my school who had one, its biggest draw was that everyone seeing you wearing it would know exactly what brand it was. These were particularly popular among the girls I danced with, as the “sportswear” aspect made more sense for us. Though I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to wearing this ensemble to school, like, at least once a week.

*****

This was trip down ~memory lane~, but I’ve realized just how big a part conspicuous consumption plays in our society and social lives — and just how early it starts. Of course, if you really want to buy yourself a Canada Goose jacket, by all means, do so. I just hope we all — myself included — realize what (and who) influences the personal spending decisions we make at every point in our lives.

Holly is the Executive Editor of TheFinancialDiet.com. Follow her on Twitter here, or send her your ideas at holly@thefinancialdiet.com!

Image via IMDB

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