#My laptop is at home and idk how to shift + enter on phone

[pardi-real]

Honeymoon Knight / Chapter 4 - Gondola of Happiness

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~ After a while ~

Lucas: "Well, my lord... While talking is enjoyable, how about heading to a restaurant for lunch? The sun is getting higher, and staying outside might get you a sunburn.”

> "Got it, let's move"

> "Right, let's have lunch"

Muu: "Hehe…! I want to eat delicious fruits!

> "Yeah, sounds good!"

> "I want some as well"

Nac: "Hmm, fruits… In that case, I know a cafe where you can enjoy various fruits."

> "I'd like to visit that cafe"

Nac: "Fufu, understood. Well then, let me guide you. It's a bit of a distance from here, but if we take a gondola, we'll get there quickly."

Muu: "What's a gondola?"

Nac: "It's a small boat propelled by a person. The boatman will row us to our destination."

Muu: "Oh! So that boat is called a gondola! I remember riding it with Flure and others before! My lord!"

> "Indeed"

Lucas: "But still... a gondola during the June bride season is quite romantic, isn't it?"

> "What do you mean?"

Lucas: "Fufu, well… In Velis weddings, the married couple often takes a gondola to the venue. I've seen it a long time ago, and it's a truly beautiful sight."

> "I see..."

Lamli: "As expected, Master Lucas knows everything! I'm starting to look forward to riding the gondola with my lord! When we board and when we disembark, please hold onto my hand!"

> "Understood”

> “Thank you, Lamli”

And so, we headed to the boat dock to board the gondola.

Boatman: "Welcome. Where will you be going?"

Nac: "The destination is the West Area. As it involves an important individual, we request a safe journey."

Boatman: "Understood. We'll head to the West Area at a leisurely pace."

Muu: "Hehe… A gondola after so long! I'm excited!"

Lucas: "Muu, be careful not to fall. Let me carry you."

Muu: "Yes! Thank you very much!"

Lamli: "My lord, I'll board first... Hold onto my hand and board slowly, please!"

I carefully stepped onto the boat with Lamli supporting me.

Once everyone was on board, the gondola started moving, and the scenery began to unfold slowly.

Nac: "Fufu… The cityscape of Velis is truly beautiful. My Lord, it may only be for a short while, but please enjoy the view from the boat.”

> "I will"

> “Thank you, Nac”

Lucas: "Hmm..."

Lamli: "Oh? What's wrong, Master Lucas?"

Lucas: "Well… I was just thinking."

> "About what?"

Lucas: "Yes, a while ago...

We talked about couples taking a gondola ride in Velis, right?"

> "Yes"

Lucas: "There's actually… A little tradition associated with that."

> "A tradition?"

Lucas: "Yes. When you ride this gondola and compliment each other, it is said that happiness will visit each of you."

Muu: "Wow. That's a lovely tradition!"

Lucas: "So...♪ shall we give it a try?"

Nac: "Us too?"

Lamli: "Yes, yes! I can say lots of good things about my lord!"

> (Feels like this might get embarrassing...)

Lamli: "Alright then, may I go first?"

> "Wait a moment…!"

Lamli: "Huh?"

> "I want to hear good things about everyone first"

Lamli: "Ours?"

Nac: "Good things about us… well, I have no qualms, but why…"

> "I want each of us to be happy"

Nac: "My Lord...! Haa… How kind of you…! You always consider us so dearly."

Lucas: "Since my lord is saying that... Let's compliment each other."

Lamli: "Master Lucas… there are many wonderful things I can say about you!”

And so the butlers proceeded to compliment each other.

Lamli: “Master Lucas has a lot of good points… but your loving nature is the most charming! 

And, when we're together... I feel you're incredibly~ mature! Is this what they call adult charm...? Somehow, I admire those cool and gentlemanly behaviors!"

Nac: "And, particularly notable is… Your calm and realistic approach. Balancing kindness and rationality...

As a butler… No, as a human being, I aspire to learn from you."

> "Indeed, Lucas is level-headed"

Lucas: "Fufu… Thanks, everyone. Now, moving on to the next person… Lamli, let me share some of my positive thoughts about you.

When I think of you, Lamli, your cheerfulness and sincerity stand out, and It's truly admirable how devoted you are to our lord.

I sense that this dedication might be a bit risky, but… your ability to wholeheartedly love and prioritize them above all else is undeniably your greatest strength, Lamli.”

Lamli: "Ehehe… Thank you very much, Master Lucas!"

Muu: "Mr. Lamli seems so happy, doesn't he? Alright… Now, Mr. Nac, what are Mr. Lamli's good points from your perspective?"

Nac: "Hmm, well…

……”

Lamli: “Uhm, Nac… if you say something like 'I can't think of anything in particular,' I might get real mad, you know?"

Nac: "Good heavens… of course there's no way I would say such rude things. 

So, about your good qualities, Lamli… Well, Mr. Lucas had mentioned this too, but I suppose your sincerity is admirable.” 

Lamli: “Eh…”

Nac: “Expressing emotions and affections so openly… It's something I could never imitate.

Well… Though at the same time, it's a weakness. But still, such straightforwardness... I sometimes envy it."

Lamli: “E-err…”

Nac: "Hmm… Complimenting Lamli feels strange."

Lamli: "M-me too, hearing you complimenting me is creeping me out…"

Muu: "He said all that… but Mr. Lamli looks a bit happy."

> "Good for you, Lamli"

Lamli: “N-not at all… I'm not happy or anything getting complimented by Nac!”

Lucas: “Fufu, Lamli is… not quite honest when it comes to Nac.”

note: I wonder why they didn't call the boatman as a gondolier despite openly calling the boat as a gondola

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[themaladpativedaydreamer]

How about Chris evans x male reader

Where Chris and reader are married and recently had a child together and chris is doing and interview but people still think he single except close friend and family because chris wants his husband's to keep his privacy and baby starts crying in the background while reader is at work and rumors start circulating and they both come clean about it but reader gets hate and chris is there to comfort him.

Idk how they got they baby you can decide could be surrogacy/mpreg if you comfortable with that/ or adoption

Over all I just need fluff with this man

Our Little Family - Chris Evans x Male Reader

A/N: Pretty short and sweet. I hope you enjoy it!!!!

“So…Chris let’s talk about your role in the movie: Avengers Endgame. How was it working with the cast?” Jimmy asked, looking at the screen as he was having a video interview with Chris Evans. Chris adjusted his shirt as he looked back at the camera on his laptop, “It was definitely a lot of fun, working with Scarlett and Lizzie. They were just so amazing to work with again.” Chris answered with a smile, slightly hoping the interview would be coming to an end.

“Ohh, is there something going on between you and Elizabeth?” Jimmy asked, trying to get some info out of him. Chris shook his head and let out a laugh at the idea of dating Lizzie when he only thought of her as a friend and the fact that there was someone else who had caught his eye, and was able to love with all his heart. “No, no, no, there’s nothing going on between Lizzie and I, we’re just good friends.” he responds. “So, no woman’s caught your eye?” Jimmy inquisitively questions, still prying to find an answer only to be disappointed when he got Chris shaking his head. “Nope, no women in my life. Who aren’t family, of course.” Chris cleverly answered.

Before Jimmy could continue with another question, a wail sounded from Chris’s room which was heard by Jimmy as well as his audience. “Sorry to cut the interview short Jimmy, but I have to take care of a little something.” Chris said before the interview call ended and Chris moved over the crying baby as he lifted his daughter in his arms and began walking around while gently patting her back trying to silence her cries. “It’s okay, daddy’s here.” Chris comforted as her cries slowly started to subside.

Y/n arrived home from work and entered to find his daughter and Chris playing in the living room. “Hey I’m home.” Y/n announced his presence, alerting Chris and the baby who both looked at the male as smiles formed on their faces. Y/n placed his things down as he moved to the baby with a smile on his face, “Papa’s home, my little angel.” he softly spoke as he lifted his daughter into his arms. Chris watched the scene and felt truly heart flutter at his husband and his daughter, his little family before he moved over to Y/n pressing a kiss on his lips. “Welcome home love.” Chris greeted, as they stared at each other lovingly before their attention was grabbed by their daughter who was giggling and babbling gibberish.

After having supper and placing their little girl to sleep, Chris and Y/n were cuddling in bed. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.” Chris started, as he felt Y/n’s head shift on his shoulder toward him with curious eyes, “Sure, what’s up?” he responded. “Today, I was in an interview and our little girl started crying.” Chris said, causing Y/n’s eyes to widen knowing that people didn’t know about their relationship or their daughter. “I didn’t tell them anything, but people are getting curious.” Chris continued as he passed Y/n his phone to scroll through the tabloids all them headlined with words: “Chris Evans” and “Mystery Baby”

Y/n took a deep sigh before putting the phone away and looking at Chris, “I think we should announce this. Us. Our family. And put the rumours to rest.” Y/n suggested, looking at Chris searching his face for any signs of approval or disapproval. “I’ll do it if you’re absolutely sure.” Chris smiled at Y/n, who returned the smile “Come out to the world and let everyone know that I’m Chris Evans’ husband with a daughter? Sounds like a Saturday to me.” Y/n said, as he melted into Chris’s arms drifting off into sleep hoping tomorrow will be a good day.

Chris had made a post to his instagram page, revealing everything about their family. Some of the comments were supportive of his relationship and his daughter but others were either shaming Chris for having a husband or having a child with a man. Y/n sat on the couch in the living room on his phone scrolling through the comment section of his husband’s post, each comment worse than the one before, comments not only attacking Chris but attacking him for either the way he looked or his relationship with Chris.

Y/n didn’t even notice the tears escaping his eyes as he threw his phone and sat crying as the negative comments swirled his mind. Chris, with their daughter, in his arms entered the room and saw Y/n in tears. He placed their little girl in their playpen before moving over to comfort Y/n. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Chris asked as Y/n accepted his embrace and allowed himself to be cuddled by Chris, “Tell everyone about us was a bad idea. They hate you. They hate me. They hate us.” Y/n cried.

“I don’t care about what they say. Them hating us isn’t going to change how much I love you or our little girl. If anything it only makes me love you both so much more.” Chris comforted, as he rubbed Y/n’s back still keeping his arms wrapped around him. A smile etched it’s way onto Y/n’s face as he felt his worries slip away in Chris’s warm embrace. “I love you too.” he mumbled. As they both shared a sweet kiss before pulling away, “This is our little family. Our perfect little family.” Chris spoke again, as they both shared a little laugh. Y/n suddenly felt dizzy for a moment and felt bile climbing its way up his throat, he broke from Chris’s arms and ran to the nearest bathroom, hunching over a toilet vomiting.

Chris quickly came in with their daughter in his arms. “I don’t think our family’s going to be little anymore.” Y/n spoke, letting out a happy giggle with his hand on his stomach.

[blxetsi]

Can I request hcs of reader pranking Mikasa, Annie, and Pieck like they are hiding another girl from them? Here’s the link for reference :)

yuh ‼️ ty for the request !!!

mikasa, annie, and pieck reacting to you pranking them (modern au!)

college!mikasa x gn!reader, college!annie x gn!reader, college!pieck x gn!reader

warnings: uhhhh humour + fluff ?, sexy women lol, a touch of angst ??,, annie leonhart marry me challenge, u and pieck being cuddlebugs

mikasa

- PLSSS you only got the idea from eren bc he sent u the tiktok in the first place,,,,

- anyways he told you to do it and record it for him

- you agreed, and bc ur a little shit you even skipped ur last class just so youd get back to your and mikasa's shared apartment earlier

- the audio is literally just sasha speaking 😭😭😭 you did the best with what you had yknow 🤨‼️

- anyways u decide to wait in ur bedroom for mikasa when u hear the door open

- time to get started 😈

- after making sure ur camera was recording and getting the audio ready, you played it just as she was coming down the hall

- you heard her footsteps stop for a second before continuing and thats when you threw the phone and went to meet her at the door

- as soon as you saw her face you immediately regretted ever doing this to her,,, she looked so sad

- "are you hiding someone in here ?" YOU COULDNT EVEN KEEP IT GOING BEFORE YOU APOLOGIZED

- you cooed at her before hugging her and apologizing "mika im so sorry i SWEAR its a joke im recording it"

- all she does is nod at you and you KNOW youre in trouble

- "mikasa, lovey ? please dont be mad its just a prank i saw on tiktok im so sorry." she just keeps looking around the room

- she makes you sit on the bed while she checks absolutely EVERYWHERE while youre trying to convince her theres no one

- you finally play the audio and she stops from where shes looking under the bed, "is that sasha ?" "yeah i used her voice for the prank" "😡🗡️"

- she makes you pamper her for the rest of the night as an apology, and you GLADLY do it bc you love to serve your gf 😁‼️

annie

- dont even try it

- dont do it, im serious,,, unless you want to be buried at the local cemetary 😁👍

- ymir sent the tiktok as a joke like "lmao imagine if you did this to annie" you said "okay 🤩🤚"

- ymir makes a new gc for you, herself, reiner and bertholdt so they can talk abt it 🙄

- bertholdt and reiner are immediately in the gc like "no no,,, dont do it y/n,,,, you have so much to live for, so much potential" and ymir names the gc "y/ns funeral planners"

- but YOURE NOT A PUSSY 😫‼️ WHATS UR GF GONNA DO 🙄⁉️

- so u set up your camera and hide in the bedroom when you know annie's coming back from boxing

- yeah,,,,, boxing,,,,,

- you play the audio ymir made for u super loud and you hear her SPRINT to the fucking room

- say ur prayers bae ur going down lol

- you dont even have time to react before shes pinned you down on the bed 😭😭😭

- sister looks at the phone, then back at you and says "ymirs voice is ugly, you wanna trick me at least make it believable" before you can even apologize she gives you a FAT kiss on the lips,, im talking tongue and all

- then she says "im going to shower, dont try that shit again, okay baby ?"

- yes ma'am,,, i live to serve you 🛐🛐🛐

pieck

- lmao good luck tricking this bitch she doesnt even believe it

- porco sent it to you like "imagine if you did this to pieck lol" and you were like "lmao sure"

- you didnt know who to ask to speak to you ?? so your dumbass just used yourself 😐🤚

- you got yourself speaking into your microphone in some high pitched voice 😭😭😭😭

- anyways you set up ur camera and played the audio after she came home from her shift at work

- this bitch GIGGLES before entering to see you on the bed before the two of you burst out laughing

- she comes and lays beside your body to pull you into her "are you trying to prank me baby ?" "maybe i was" "i saw that video a week ago after porco sent it to me"

- excuse me 😃⁉️

- "what ? porco sent it to me" she starts laughing again "he wanted me to do it to you but i know how sensitive you are, couldnt make my angel cry like that" and now youre absolute mush

- you hide yourself in her chest while you feel your face heating up and she chuckles while patting your head

- "now that the silly times are over, do you wanna watch a movie with me ?" you answers muffled from her clothes but she hears you loud and clear "yes please"

- and you two spent the night cuddled in bed with a laptop laying on you both, playing some netflix original <3

AND ITS DONE !! this was fun to make. also idk if mikasa's came off as "obsessive" bc i wasnt trying to,, shes just a bit insecure abt your relationship :( give her love pls

ALSO !! requests open ok stay safe

[shoyothemoron]

Cerulean Butterflies

Dabi x Good Girl Reader

You just can't help but let him in when Dabi comes calling, even though he's definitely out of place in your perfect little life

Angst? Idk kinda ,more like one sided pining

Words- 1.4k

Warnings- Sex is kinda eluded to but nothing graphic, just Dabi being a brat

A/N- Oh ho ho I finally posted some original work and OOP MY SECOND FIC. Anyway I’d love feedback. And I hope I got his personality right <3

You sighed, throwing your laptop off your lap and on to the other side of the couch. Looking around your neat apartment you were pleased at how productive you had been today. The group presentation that was due the next day was turned in. The assignment due next week could totally be put off until tomorrow. Your laundry was tumbling in the dryer, and you had meals prepped, so no more worrying about cooking for the next few days

Rubbing your eyes you decided could go on your phone or read a little bit before going to bed, so you hopped up to put on your pjs. But before you could reach your bedroom, you stopped at the open window in your living room. You covered your eyes and groaned.

You shook your head trying to undo your thoughts. Tonight had been going SO well. Of course he had to worm his way into it. For some reason, nights like the ones outside your window would always remind you of him. Nights where the moon was full and the sky wasn´t black but indigo. And you could see every cloud illuminated.

You needed to stop thinking about him. You knew men like him liked to chew up and spit out girls like you. He knew what he wanted, and there was a reason he was so good at it. But you couldn't help it, he could deliver you to heaven and cradle you as you fell back down. Dabi was addicting.

You made your way to your bedroom, trying to stop yourself from thinking of him. But as soon as you had put on your pajamas, you heard a knock on your door. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, and the most devilish motherfucker you knew was standing on your doorstep. You sighed and pulled on a cardigan, trying to come up with a good reason to send him away.

Opening your door, you lean against the doorway to block him from entering.

“What Dabi?”

You watched his eyes as he racked them up and down your figure, and suddenly every bit of confidence you had melted away. His gaze just held that type of power over you.

“Aw, no hello kiss?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

You blush, and can´t meet his eyes. Pouting you say “No, I only give kisses to good boys.”

He scoffs. Yeah that was to be expected.

“Listen Dabi, I really can't help you with whatever you need this time...” You still cant meet his gaze, and you just hope, by some miracle he´d maybe turn around and leave.

He signs “Doll,” His sudden change of tone makes you look up in concern, and he meets your eyes.

His eyes always shocked you, the cerulean made you question how eyes that beautiful really existed. You shifted your gaze to his scars and staples, and you felt a pang in your heart.

No! You couldn't get soft now, not when you almost had a strong start.

“I'll spare you the details, but things haven't been going well for me recently, and I know you don't like when I steal...” Now he's the one who can´t meet your eyes.

Steal? What was he… Oh, he was hungry.

Well, now you felt like a dick. Looking in his eyes you tried to come up with a reason to say no. Really you did, but you couldn't deny him. So you move out of the door to let him in

He bussels into your home, suddenly a new man, “So what's for dinner?”

You purse your lips staring at his back. Fucker, he knew you couldn't say no when it came to stuff like that.

You made your way to your kitchen, rolling your eyes as you say, “Whatever I decide to make for you.”

“Aw is someone pouting? Just admit you can´t resist me.” He says the last part in a sing-song voice and you want to kick him out right then and there, he could go hungry for all you care. But when he looks away, his smirk drops and suddenly your ache to cradle his face and kiss every inch of it. He looked so tired.

Deciding against punching his already imperfect face, you start working on his meal. It feels like it takes forever as you cut food and stand in front of the stove, you can feel his eyes on your back the whole time. You try to ignore them and act natural, but it wasn´t until the very end when you were standing in front of the stove stirring the food when you suddenly felt a presence behind your back.

“So,” Dabi says as he wraps his arms around your waist and presses himself against you, “how will I ever repay you?”

“Don't go acting like a gentleman now Dabi,” you slap away the hand that was getting a little too close to your chest, “I know when I´m being exploited.”

“Good them we’re on the same page.” He chuckles and smacks your ass, making you squeak.

He moves to lean against the counter a few feet away, and you will yourself to not look up into his eyes until the food is ready.

When you finally hand him the plate, you sit side by side at the island. After a few moments he asks “What are you thinking about?”

You immediately look away from him. You had been thinking about something, but you couldn't bring yourself to tell him. You were even having trouble telling yourself.

In reality you were scolding yourself, telling yourself to stop thinking about what this thing right in front of you meant. Because it could never mean what you really wanted. Because what you really wanted was to turn to him and scream that you loved him. You wanted to shake him and yell hysterically and maybe just hurt him a little. To say ‘Can't you see that when you're here you're my everything. Can't you see me falling right in front of you, won't you catch me?’ But you didn't think you would ever be able to tell him.

You were also terrified to fall in love with him. Because even though you might love him, loving and being in love were separate things. And you knew that if you fell in love with him and he adored you like you wanted to be adored, he would have to ask you to do things you didn't know you could do. Things that any self respecting girl with a future ahead of her would run from as fast as she could. And you couldn't blame her. You could never abandon the future you were so delicately building for yourself.

So you would pretend that you couldn´t understand your feelings, that you didn't know how you felt about Dabi, that everything was a bundle of hatred, guilt and lust. But you knew yourself, and knew it was pretend. But how could you tell him? How do you tell someone like him you loved him?

So instead of telling the man you loved the truth, all you said was, “How obnoxious you are.” As you stole something off his plate.

“Me? The obnoxious one? Well that's certainly out of charter for a good girl such as yourself...” He began as you giggled, bumping his shoulder.

And so the night would go. It would go like every night before, and every night to follow. Unless one day you had the nerve to ruin it all. You would talk with him while he ate, making each other laugh, and roll your eyes. You would end up a blushing mess every now and then. Eventually you would fall into bed, where he would make you feel SO good, good enough to forget, to let the butterflies in your stomach consume you, to enjoy their frantic wings and how brave they made you feel. You would go back and forth from bed, to the kitchen, to bed. Until finally he would keep you warm as you fell asleep. He would warm your bed for long enough. And you would wake all by yourself, only to remember him in flashes that would make you blush. You would remember him until you could will yourself to stop, until you organized your life again, into its neat clean rows. But sometimes you´d slip up, remembering, leaving you alone with only a feeling. He would leave nothing but a storm of cureulian butterflies.

[shorkbrian]

Give in to Love

so I have several thots about this. Like with Kiri, he would be like, relieved you’re being submissive but then he’d become like super depressed that you aren’t like idk seeming to live in your body, like you’re just a husk and he’d get so worried and sad and pamper you with so much love.

Yeah so aside from Kiri, a yan that I imagine this type of scenario is with someone like Victor Nikiforov from YOI 

yes. This Bitch right here.

So first fucking off, he’s rich. Money is no problem for him.

Second off, he’s so confident that he would not hesitate to do whatever he wanted.

Third, he’s actually pretty kind (especially to pretty, vulnerable little things like you)

It’d probably start out with the man spilling coffee all over you or something SUPER cliche like that. 

(Warnings - not much. NSFW but only the teeniest tiniest bit. barely even a mention. but obvs Yandere, dub con, dark content.)

He’s in a rush, he was bursting out of the coffee-shop, you just so happened to be walking by and in the direct path of the door and so smacks into you, knocking you onto your butt.

Immediately, you’re being helped up by a silver haired man, he’s apologizing heavily, patting your clothes into place, smoothing your hair, steadying you onto your feet. He’s so sorry, he didn’t even see you! And then the man stops, looks at you, smiles blindingly and blurts out that you’re pretty.

You’re understandably stunned. but you quickly just brush it off, his accent is foreign, it’s probably just a cultural thing. 

Then he’s offering to buy you something to make up for him trying to give you a concussion, asking if you like coffee, sweets, maybe a sweater? You look cold.

And you’re just so tired, life is exhausting, you don’t really even care anymore what happens to you. You don’t protest as the man doesn’t wait for an answer, immediately grabbing your hand and marching you into the coffee shop he had just burst out of.

“Pick anything you’d like, my treat! An apology for not paying attention to such a beautiful thing.” He smiles, gesturing at the menu.

You study it for a second, but there’s too many choices, and it’d just be easier if you didn’t have to, and you’re so used to people telling you what to do and making decisions for you and you’re lost. Where do you even start?

After a few moments of silence, the man (who's been not-so-subtly watching you as you deliberate) speaks up. “Can I pick? I LOVE their raspberry cheesecake! So good!”

It sounds fine, and you’re somewhat relieved that he was going to choose, take the burden of responsibility off of your shoulders.

He buys one of the giant slices, ushers you to table, sits you down. The man watches you take a bite, his face lighting up and giving a little clap when you give a thumbs up. He has his own fork, and he takes bits and pieces here and there from the slice. While you eat, he talks.

His name is Victor, he’s from Russia, are you from around here? What’s your name? 

“That’s such a pretty name!” He says your name once, twice, rolling it around in his mouth like it’s something to savor. 

Victor is a ball of energy, confident, full of life. He’s frankly an intimidating man, with how attractive he is, the obviously expensive suit he wears, the way he dominates the conversation and expertly handles your awkward silences and uncomfortable pauses.

By the time you leave, he’s entered his number into your phone, quickly scrolling to find your own number (even though he was only supposed to put in his own - but you really didn’t care) and note it down.

You’re pretty sure he won’t actually be texting or calling you - he was just being polite, feigning interest in someone as boring and pathetic as yourself.

Lo-and-behold, that evening you get a notification that “Vitya! (:” has texted you.

Hello! Is your body feeling alright?

Immediately confused, you send out a reply

Who is this?

It’s Victor!!! From the coffeeshop, haha. 

Oh, hi (: your contact name says “Vitya” lol what a typo

Not a typo, I like it when pretty girls call me Vitya (;

Baffled, you don’t reply, and no further messages are exchanged.

A few days go by, Victor texts you on the fifth day, asking if you wouldn’t mind recommending some fun local activities. You have to apologize - you don’t get out much, you’re sure there’s info online though.

Victor asks why you don’t go out, you decide to be blunt and succinctly explain the fatigue, you’re anxious, this is your first time being out on your own and you’re so used to other people dictating your life that it feels uncomfortable and wrong to be able to make decisions. 

The man asks if you would go to that coffeeshop again with him. The switch of topic relieves you, but at the same time you’re frowning. You probably word-vomited all over him, complaining about your problems. 

For some reason, you agree.

He meets you at the coffeeshop again, this time not even bothering to ask what you’d like to order. Victor just gets a few cookies, leads you to a table and plops down, spreading them in front of the two of you 

“In case you don’t like one of them. And if you have allergies!”

You smile at his explanation.

Victor slowly becomes a constant in your life.

The texts turn into quick calls, inviting you places, begging you to come sit with him in the park, feed some pigeons. Go to the grocery store with him? He’s lonely, don’t make him go by himself!

Even if you refuse, you’re gently bullied into doing virtually everything he says. It’s not like you mind though, you’re used to it.

He starts showing up at your apartment, you aren’t even sure when you gave him your address, but now he invites himself inside.

The first time he had shown up, completely unannounced, you had protested only once before letting him in. You could tell he was scrutinizing your home, but what did it matter? Victor was wealthy, everything you owned seemed shabby and poor.

He came over most nights, sometimes bringing food, making you sit with him at your table and eat. Sometimes he brought a book, or his laptop, and quietly sat on your couch while you puttered around. He’d always get distracted from what he was reading though, chattering towards you about this or that or the other.

Victor was nice.

He made decisions for you, he made you eat, he quickly picked up on when you were too tired to function, when all you could do was collapse somewhere and fall asleep.

But Victor was also threatening.

If you tried refusing him too many times, or if you mentioned your coworker telling a funny joke (It’s not like he wasn’t funny, the joke was hilarious - Victor just didn’t seem to like it) Victor’s face would sour, eyebrows drawing low, a deep frown etched onto his face. HIs voice would take on a commanding tone, low, as if he was going to do something that neither of you would enjoy if he had to ask again. 

It was scary sometimes.

But he had invaded your life, and you had stood by and idly watched. It’s not like you had put up a fight. You didn’t even know why he hung around you so, with the way you were constantly tired, moving through life like a zombie, sad and sleepy all the time.

Months passed and like every other year of your life, you could barely remember them slipping by. When had Victor become so comfortable in your apartment? It made you uncomfortable, but you were used to discomfort.

It came to a head when you retreated to your room for a nap, body sore and fatigued from merely existing. Victor followed you, nagging about wearing something cooler, to drink some water, how he heard about this new thing recently-

He followed you into your bed.

Like it was normal. Crawling under the covers with you, still maintaining a respectful distance, still talking. You were so tired, you didn’t care about how it made you uncomfortable.

When you woke up, he was curled around you, holding you tight. When you shifted, he had perked up, peeking around your shoulder to see your face. He had been awake the whole time, just chilling.

It was weird.

You were too tired to fight it.

Victor started paying for too much.

Of course it started small, as everything concerning Victor did. Sweets, small little gifts, occasionally a week’s worth of groceries. 

Then it escalated. He was paying for your medications, for your therapies, for your health aids. He started trailing after you to doctor’s appointments, introducing himself as a concerned friend.

You knew this wasn’t good, wasn’t healthy. Something was wrong about this, but you just didn’t care. Something was always wrong, you were always being directed and pushed towards this or that. You just had to accept it.

Then Victor was paying your rent, buying you clothes (since when did friends buy each other underwear?) surprising you with bigger and more expensive gifts until you tried to put your foot down.

You had gotten a stern talking-to, treated like an ungrateful child. And maybe you were? Victor was doing so much for you, shouldn’t you just accept his care?

Victor suggested that you move into his house, since he practically lives at your little apartment anyways. 

“My place is so much cozier! I have a fireplace, I miss it! I want to spend time with you but we could hang out in a more-” He looked around at your apartment “-comfortable place?”

You tried to argue, you did. But it took one disapproving glance from Victor and you were subdued, meekly agreeing to do whatever he wanted.

He called your landlord to terminate your lease. He helped you pack your clothes (that he had bought) into boxes (that he had bought) and arranged for your furniture (that he had bought, always complaining that your couch was bad for his back) to be sold.

Once moving in with him, he got more and more affectionate.

Right from the start, you quickly realized that Victor was very tactile-oriented. He wasn’t shy about physical touch, always wanting to hold hands or giving super long hugs, or begging to cuddle. He didn’t think it was weird, so you tried not to think so either.

Now that you were in his house, his gigantic, expensive house, Victor became even more physical. He showered you with kisses on the cheek, pressed to your forehead, on your shoulder, your neck when he curled around you at night (because of course you slept in the same bed. Victor had just laughed when you asked where your bedroom was)

Eventually, he kissed you on the mouth.

You were surprised, but you didn’t fight it. Why would you?

A heartfelt confession followed - how he had fallen in love with you at first sight, and how every day he fell more and more in love with you. You were his everything, the light of his life, he would die for you.

Don’t you feel the same?

You did, because that’s what Victor wanted to hear.

So now the two of you were dating, sharing kisses and intimate touches and eventually sharing bodies, letting him touch you even though it made your flesh crawl, touching him because he asked you to.

He provided everything, it was simpler just to do what he asked, what he desired. You didn’t even really mind being told what to do, what to wear, what and when to eat - it gave you a sense of comfort, knowing that you didn’t have to make decisions for yourself like that.

Victor would take care of you.

Even when you didn’t want him to

After all, it was simply easier to give in to love

[tillmays]

the Late shift

Here it is as promised. To the ones that asked to read it first thanks. Thank you for your words. This is one of so many things that “happens” idk if you get it. this is different to the things you all read don't take it so harsh. This was the first thing I wrote. As I have said before I see me in Riley, I wasn't feeling good when I wrote it. this helped e to get something off my chest. I didn't came here to ruin the character for anyone ok. and I added something to make it fit in the story line. 1 day later but here it is.

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*Riley checks phone* sitting in the driver's seat looking through the window. She was a little distracted. she checks her phone again. “do u not feel me thinking about u??? Text me” she said to herself. “Waiting for something Miss Davis” Riley snapped out of her head and said “oh no I’m just, eh… Nothing. It’s late that’s all. You said this was going to be quick” she turned her head to look out of the window again. “Things take time. We need to have patience” he said to her while being alert too. “Well yeah but I will have more patience if I knew what I’m doing here” she said sarcastically. He put his hand on his chin. “You haven’t told me what I’m here for,” she said while looking at her phone again. “You know that after this you have to get rid of that phone”. Riley looked at him while her sight eye was getting lost in the distance knowing it was time to let go. “I know,” she said. James Macgyver said to her “so you remember what you have to do” “no you haven’t told me anything ” “oh. My apologies then, I guess I have been a little distracted too. You have to hack his phone. This man has information about an undercover team. A team that is close to the people you’re going to be spending next few months. So…” “Wait what?” she said confused. “Oh you don’t know? guess director Webber forgot to tell you the details. You get the information from the phone, after that you’re free to leave”.

 Flashback: to 2 days ago 

 Before leaving for the mission with the team. That morning, Riley received a message from oversight. He needed her for a special work. James Macgyver called her, He knew her abilities. He was impressed with her work and he knew she was the indicated for the job. “Miss Davis I called you because I know you are the right one for it. the right one for what? she asked. In 2 days I will call you no matter the time you have to be ready. Bring your equipment you’re going to need it” he said in an excited way. “What is it about?” she asked while raising her eyebrow. “The only  information you need to know right now, it’s that you have to be ready ok”. “Ok sir, I will be ready then” Mac was walking down the hall when he saw them talking. Mac stepped back, so they wouldn’t see him coming. “Be careful. And watch Mac for me”. He said to her smiling while he patted down on her shoulder. “Don’t even doubt it sir” she smiled while he walked away, and she entered the war room.

Mac saw them smiling. His mind was running like crazy trying to think what the hell was going on. “I’m just overthinking. maybe they ran into each other. He was saying hi, Wait he doesn’t do that he’s not a normal person he doesn’t go around talking to people. Damn I’m doing it again I need to stop. shit. How do I escape from my mind” he said to himself while the curiosity was eating him inside.

 End of flashback

                          ——————————————————–

 “Well are you ready for your new adventure as an undercover agent?” J.Macgyver asked “Yeah, little bit. I mean it’s different. I’m entering a new field, I know it’s not going to be like before. The traveling and the fun with the team. And having this rush of adrenaline every 5 minutes with Mac” James made a little smirk. “but it's work. I will get there, eventually.. I will be ready when I’m ready”. “Yeah I know in this job you don’t get to actually see the places you go. In all of these years, I have seen what the man is capable of. *He was reflecting on all the people he has encountered and the things they can do to hurt others. “And I have seen some things in this world that I swear...”. He looked through the windshield without ending the sentence. Riley was very reflective. and he continued saying “But like you say, it’s work. but it tends to consume you.” Riley looked at him. He was venting to her but in an unconscious way. “But isn’t that funny about life” what?” she asked. He looked at her trying to get his composure back “the time you feel lonely is the time you most need to be by yourself. Life’s cruelest irony, don't you think” he said to her. “here's another one, when we fall in love with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time”. “Uh that's a good one” she said sarcastically towards herself. They started saying jokes at things that were related to how they were feeling. “Or when you’re holding onto something that is not even there,” she continued and laughed. time passed when  James Macgyver spotted on the street the man they were waiting for. “ there it is” Riley checked the man crossing the street entering this bar by where they were waiting. “the man of the hour” Riley said while grabbing her phone and her backpack. “I'll be back in a flash” he nodded to her. He had a laptop where he could see the place through the security cameras that Riley hacked earlier. Riley entered the place. Saw where the man was sitting. He was at the bar where he ordered a drink. He was close to her by four chairs in between them. Riley covered the phone with her hair. The job is done at the same moment she sent it to oversight. She walked out and went back to the car. She got in and started the car. “Alright let’s go” “done? Are you sure?” “Yeah already sent it to you” she smiled as they were leaving the place he was more than impressed. 20 minutes driving they were at a stop sign. Riley saw this bar and she  felt like going. “Hey we are done here right?” she asked “yes we certainly are. Why?” “Well I will drop off here” she took off the seat belt and got out of the car. “Wait where are you going” “oh I’m just going to that bar” James looked around. “are you sure” he didn’t feel right leaving her there. “Yeah it’s going to be quick” “well, have a good night and good luck” she thanked him and walked into the bar she stayed at a bit. It was time to catch her plane. Riley was walking down the street when she felt like someone was following her, “ok calm down” said to herself. The system on her phone started to give Riley a notification. She tried to grab the phone from the back pocket of her jeans.  when someone grabbed her from behind and dragged her in the back alley of the bar. Riley started to punch him, but he grabbed her arms. He had her pressed against the wall. Riley couldn’t fight back. She didn’t know why her body stopped responding. It gave her chills. She felt her body go cold. She did not understand what was happening. Riley felt a lump in her throat, she could not scream, the tears running down her cheeks. He whispered things in her ear. clung her hands to the wall in desperation trying to get away. A shivering went down her spine. Riley’s cell phone kept ringing, the only thing that came out of her mouth was “stop”. He wasn’t listening; he punched her on the ribs multiple times. It hurted like hell  because her wound from her last mission hasn't completely healed. *body hits the ground* Riley heard how a piece of wood fell to the ground. She was still clinging to the wall. She looked askance at the floor and saw the man lying on the ground unconscious.

 -Riley?!?! You ok?! Riley kept facing the wall, she was still scared. -Riley…. She turned around and saw Billy Colton. Confused with tears in her eyes she was more than relieved to see him. He was the last person she would expect to see at that moment. Riley felt out of her body. She started to give little steps toward Billy. He walked with his arms open to grab her and take her out of there. He didn’t say a word. They walked for an hour. until Riley asked him. “How did you find me?” -what?. “How did you know I was here?” -Well, I know this is a little bit fucked up but when we were together I linked our systems, so I would know where you were. And when we broke up, I forgot to delete it. so.. here we are. “Thank you I guess...” question, how did a trained agent not fight back that man back there? I don't know Billy. I got frozen. my mind wasn't there you know if you didn't get there in time it could be another situation right now” she said. don't worry about it. hey let me walk you to your place.Billy offered. Riley saw a public phone. “Hey uh i need to make a call first” She walked to the phone. - ok

*phone rings* 

-Hello? “Oh hey mom” Riley's voice started to break. -honey what wrong? “Nothing i  wanted to talk” -Riley are you ok? “Yeah I'm fine….i just feel lost ”. Riley was crying in silence. Her tears falling from her face didn’t make a noise. She didn’t want to worry her mom. “You know mom there's something I wanted to say and I remembered that-” - oh you always thinkin in the past. You remember too much. Why hold onto all that? “Well where can I put it down?” she said sarcastically  annoyed. -Riley you need to forgive the woman you once were and look forward to the one you’re becoming. “Yeah well how easy is that mom?” - oh well how you are going to forget and forgive if you can’t forgive your own mother? You’re not going to say something? you know saying nothing sometimes says the most. “Hey mom since this is about you now i'm gonna go ok”. She hung up and saw Billy waiting for her. “Hey uh I have to go.” Riley, tired and angry, was trying to get rid of him. -what, no I will walk you home. I can’t leave you alone. Billy was looking for a way to stick with her a little longer, even if it was just one night. “It’s ok.  I don’t want to .. Talk right now” -hey forget it. don’t worry, let's walk. He said. there was a little silence and he tried to start small talk. So how did that call go? he looked at her,  Riley laughed and said “Hey we say not talking” -ok ok. Billy smiled at her and looked at her just like before. the same look when they were together  two old lovers making company for the other like if they had no past. A meaningless conversation. A Familiar scenery.

[malereader-inserts]

In the Secrets of You

Fandom: Riverdale Pairing: Archie Andrews x Male!Reader Summary: A look into the life of Archie Andrews, his soft side that no one but you get to witness. Word Count: 1,448 Request: “Could I ask for perhaps some Archie fluff, please? I read your More Than Exes fic and fell in love with it and Archie lol. Your writing is fantastic btw I love this blog for existing.” Warning: lol non, but this is a bunch of nonsense that I thought was cute and a look of a normal relationship - kinda has no plot of it?? A/n: IDK, what’s wrong with me - want to do request but then I want to write for game of thrones (because i’m back on my bullshit) but then again I feel like I can’t do some characters justice and I should focus on the characters I have

Archie stares at his best friend with wide eyes, there was a stupid grin on his face as he leans his chin against the palm of his hand. He watches your lips move, unable to hear your words as he was stuck in his own little world. Betty and Veronica share a look before fully turning their attention to you.

“(Y/n), do you realise that Archie isn’t listening to you at all?” Veronica asked, her hand waving about with a half drank coffee, “Almost like he’s smitten with you.”

“Archie doesn’t swing that way, guys,” You sighed, desperately wanting to look over to your right and stare at Archie, but you held great self-restraint.

You could chuckle to yourself, you didn’t know how long you and Archie can keep up with the act of being just best friends, friends who have grown up together since they were five. But, you and Archie have been in love for quite some time now.

Archie thought he was just attracted to the girls, he’s kissed almost all of the girls after that summer he got hot. But, when you came greeting him on the first day of school, his heart skipped a beat, like a whole shift had occurred and he had no idea what his mind was thinking.

Love isn’t meant to be complicated. It’s the little things that make you fall in love with someone. Archie had done so many things to get unholy thoughts of you and him out of his head. He tried to distract himself from you by kissing girls, dating Veronica, Valerie, and such. 

Nevertheless, he finally gave in to his emotions, he wanted to be yours. The best friend he grew up with. Archie seemed to be happier, more stable, more normal. You were his rock, his voice of reason, the person he can hold to and tell his troubles to.

But, it was also the way you complimented him on his smile that makes him smile even brighter, it was the way you called his name in the hallway that gave him butterflies. It’s the chills you give him when your lips finally touched him for the first time. 

You pulled Archie along, rolling your eyes as you see Archie flush almost as red as his hair. You chuckle as you watched the red hair boy, grinning down at you. 

“You’re an idiot, Arch,” You mumbled. “Thought you didn’t want us to be public.”

“It’s impossible to not get a smile on my lips when I see your beautiful face in front of me.” Archie complimented, making you flush with embarrassment, “I like us being a secret because-”

“It feels more real, no expectations of others, no prying eyes, no nothing. Just us and that’s all.” You finished off, you agreed with him that you like keeping moments to yourself, but sometimes, you just want to look so loved up in public.

You want to stroll down the school hallway with a grin on your face as you swing back and forth your interlocked hands. You want to kiss him near his lockers, a glare off any cheerleaders who think they can steal Archie away from you. You want to hug him, hold him tight as if the world was burning and not be looked weirdly.

“I’ll see you at mine, later?” Archie asked, walking by your side to his next lesson.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, wild cat.” 

“Miss me, Isak?” You asked, waltzing into his room after greeting his dad.

“Is this one of your tv show reference?” Archie asked, closing the door behind you and softly kissing your lips, “I don’t get it.”

“Skam, Isak and Even?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow, “What about Mickey and Ian from Shameless?”

Archie looked at you blankly, “You’re talking nonsense.”

“Gives me the perfect excuse to binge watch my favourite shows, with my favourite couples while cuddling with my handsome boyfriend.” You patted him against the chest as you throw off your hoodie and shoes.

Climbing into his warm bed, Archie chuckles. Grabbing his laptop, knowing this was the best time to be curled up to each other and watch some shows while munching on some snacks. As you unlock his laptop, he goes down the stairs to grab whatever he can get.

Fred was in the kitchen, he was reading a book. He looks up and beams at his son, his fingers tapping against the kitchen island before grabbing his mug of coffee and taking a careful sip. Fred blinks and smiles thinking how Archie was so oblivious.

“Hey, Arch, just want to know that I like (Y/n).”

“I hope so dad, we’ve known him for almost thirteen years,” Archie commented as he gets soda pop out of the fridge.

“I mean, I like (Y/n), I think he’s a rather dashing man for you.” Fred announced, then casually sipping his coffee when his son snapped his neck to look at him, “Don’t act so surprised, son.”

“How?”

“Please, the way you look at him gave it away,” Fred waves him off, Archie’s shoulders relax when he sees his dad smile.

“I think I got lucky, dad,” Archie was grinning now, ready to spill everything to his dad. Almost like a girl gossiping with her friends, but with Archie it was different.

His eyes held some just pride and joy, his hands were shaking but it was because he was excited to talk about you. His tone was lightly higher but very much more excitable, Fred could tell that Archie could talk for hours about you and there would be no way in heaven you could stop a boy who is in love from talking about their significant other.

“Look at the way you smile!” Fred teased, pinching the cheek of him, “Go, talk to me later about it. Go enjoy the rest of your Friday with (Y/n).”

Archie nods, Fred was sure his boy gave himself a whiplash but questions it no further when the red hair boy grabs all snacks in his arms and climbs his way into his room. Dumping everything on the bed, you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Move over,” Archie nudged you as you shuffle closer to the wall. He slips in with you as you and him open various sweets and crisp packets.

Archie settles himself next to you, his head against the edge of your shoulder as you tapped the space bar, the intro of your favourite show plays. As he gets comfortable in the presence of you, his mind drifts away from the show and onto you.

Archie couldn’t wait to wake up to you and have those lazy mornings. When he wakes up and you are beside him, sleeping peacefully. The mornings where you and he don’t need to rush for school, allowing the bed to pull you two back in as you pull each other closer. The mornings where no matter what the weather we’re smiling together. The mornings of pancakes and bacon, dancing around the kitchen with music playing in the background. He looks forward to the sweet and simple moments spent with you by his side.

Archie snuggles closer into your neck, your arm wrapped around his shoulders protectively as you eat a twizzler. He takes in your scent, new books and cookies - chocolate chip ones. 

It was moments like this, you liked being a secret couple. You didn’t have people blasting your phones with wanting updates with your relationship with Archie Andrews. Moments like this, you were happy to be in the comfort of him, to be softer and relaxed around him. Both of you letting down your walls for a few hours together.

Your mind was ripped back into reality when a soft snore had escaped from your boyfriend. You giggled a little rolling your eyes that your boyfriend had barely passed twenty minutes of your favourite show. You push back the laptop to face you, you can continue to rewatch and eat - Archie needed his rest, you figured as much as he comes home looking grumpy after football practise.

Fred Andrews enters the room, half an hour later - he thought the room was awfully too quiet for his liking. Though he grins to himself when he finds two boys wrapped around each other, softly snoring - exhausted.

Fred shakes his head as he switches the laptop off and moves all the snacks from the bed. It was almost as if you sensed it was clear to move closer to Archie, so you did. Fred chuckles as he brings the covers closer to you and Archie, happy that his boy was happier than ever.

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Seiðr, Ragnarøk - Fjor Jutul

[7/7/2020 Edit: The full fanfic is being posted on Wattpad. Currently I have updated it with Chapter 24]

Foreword:

•We only get a little glimpse of Fjor in this chapter since this is the first one. He’ll be more active in the second one.

•I’ll keep the story on Wattpad, I’ll post the first few chapters here therefore I attached the story link (I am posting the chapter first on Tumblr so do not get confused if you just see the cast on Wattpad).

•The main characters Rosalinde and Sven are German, hence there are/will be some dialogues in German in each chapter with a given translation of course.

Enjoy :3

(Wordcount: 3134)

*1* Home Sweet Home, I Guess?

/2nd of March, Sunday/

"Wach auf, meine Liebe, wir sind fast gekommen." (Wake up, my love, we are almost there.)

Rosalinde Griebel opened her eyes slowly upon hearing her mom calling her from the driver's seat. She had been sleeping on the back seat since their last stop –it had always been easy for her to sleep while travelling with the car, especially when she felt annoyed and grumpy. After rubbing her eyes, she straightened and sat the middle seat with a yawn.

"All those language shifts from German to Norwegian still confuse me," Rosalinde muttered as she leaned forwards to turn the volume of the radio up. Then she sat back "I'm still having mixed dreams."

Her mother, Astrid, nodded as she casted a look at her daughter from the rear-view mirror "I know, sweetheart, it is the same for me, too. But when it's just the two of us, speaking German is like an instinct, you know?"

"Of course, we are German, after all. It is only our fourth year in this country." Rosalinde responded while reading a sign they passed by. Edda Municipality. She rolled her eyes in annoyance "In which we had to move for the second time because of you, Mutter." (-e Mutter = mother)

Her mother took a deep breath; it was as if she was sick of Rosalinde bringing up this very topic all the time "Do you really want to do this in the car? Argue with me for the fifth time today?" she asked, her voice was tired.

"Whatever, I'm still mad at you." Rosalinde spoke angrily as she crossed her arms on her chest and moved to the left seat, leaning the door. In fact, this time it was not her mother's fault –the hospital in Oslo, in which her mother worked as an anaesthesiologist, wanted her to be transferred to the one in Edda due to the doctor shortages. Still, Rosalinde was carrying a grudge against her mother because of forcing her to move to Norway when she was 14 and turning Rosalinde's life upside down. Therefore she was using this second moving as an excuse to remind her mother of that thing she would never forgive her for.

Not once she asked about my opinion, whether I wanted to leave my life in Germany behind. It was always about her, about her life. I never understood how she acted that selfish against her own daughter.

If it were up to me, I would have never moved to Norway –not that I do not like it here, Norway is an amazing country but I deeply loved my life in Germany. I loved every bit of Aachen, I loved my friends and I loved my dreams. And then one morning, the woman whom I call "meine Mutter" shattered all those dreams to pieces.

Rosalinde pushed her ginger hair away from her sight as her icy blue eyes focused on a large factory complex. The buildings were emitting too many gases, upon realising that she grimaced "Are they even allowed to emit all those gases? They seem pretty poisonous to me."

Her mother, who had ginger hair just like her daughter, frowned "I am not quite sure." she responded "But I rather not think about that."

Rosalinde shrugged "Have it your way." she murmured while she took her phone from her pocket. As she made the airplane mode off, a notification from WhatsApp appeared on her home screen.

Sven: Hey, sleepy head, are you up yet?

Rosalinde raised an eyebrow as her gaze drifted to the woman driving the car "Mom, how does Sven know that I have been sleeping?" she asked in a suspicious way.

Her mother chuckled while she took a left. They were starting to get close to the city centre "He called me to check up on you when you were sleeping –seems like your phone was off."

"You know I put it on the airplane mode when I sleep." Rosalinde said and turned back to her phone. Her nails with black nail polish were shining as she wrote the reply.

Rosalinde: Yeah, got my beauty sleep.

Sven: How do you find our new home so far?

Rosalinde: Idk, we shall see.

After five minutes, the car stopped in front of a small, blue coloured, triplex house. It also had a small garden, which was separated by the gardens next door with high bushes. Rosalinde and her mother got off the car and started carrying the boxes to their new house, during which another car stopped right after theirs. The first one to leave the car was a blonde, teenage boy. Rosalinde smiled as she saw Sven on her way back to the car to take the last box along with her luggage.

Sven approached her with a smile similar to Rosalinde's "Hey baby boy, you have arrived right on time." Rosalinde called Sven as she took the last box.

Sven rolled his eyes "What do you want this time, Lin?" he asked. It felt like he was coming across with similar scenarios a lot.

Rosalinde sent him a big, fake smile "It is your turn to carry my luggage."

After dropping the things at Rosalinde's house, the duo went outside to the garden. It was near 5pm and the weather was getting colder "It does not seem so bad, does it?" Sven asked, causing Rosalinde to look at him. His blue eyes were on her.

Rosalinde nodded "Well, for now, yes. The view is beautiful actually." she said, then smiled warmly at him "At least I have you with me here –I do not know what I would do if I had to leave my best friend behind once again."

Sven hugged her tight "I am glad you're with me as well. I would not want it any other way. We are lucky that both our mothers were transferred to the hospital in Edda." he said as he caressed Rosalinde's chest-length, straight, ginger hair. Sven's mother was an orthopaedic surgeon "Plus we left all those toxic people back in Oslo."

Rosalinde took a step back, leaving his arms "Toxic people are everywhere, dummy."

Sven rolled his eyes "Just for once, be a little more optimistic." he murmured "You do not have to be as black as the clothes you wear."

Rosalinde stuck her tongue out at him "I am being realistic; you can go live in your little utopia if you want."

Before Sven could snap back at her, the duo heard Sven's mother calling him "Sven, darling, come help us with unpacking!"

Sven smirked at Rosalinde "See you soon, neighbour." he said as he turned back to leave. The wind was messing his blonde hair.

Rosalinde rolled her eyes while she shouted behind him "Saved by your mother as always!"

"Go help yours already, Lin!"

***

It was past 7pm when Rosalinde and her mother were finally finished with unpacking. Rosalinde was lying on the grey couch in the living room, which was together with kitchen, as she scrolled in Instagram while her mother was searching for something in the kitchen. A few minutes later she called Rosalinde.

"Lin, do you want to hear the bad news?" asked the short, ginger haired woman.

Rosalinde didn't even lift her blue eyes from her phone "We have no food in the house and you want me to go get something, right?"

She heard her mother chuckle "Sometimes you make me think that you can actually read my mind." she said "Can you go to Spar and buy us some pasta?"

Rosalinde locked her phone as she slowly stood up "Nope, it does not work on you and you know that pretty well, Mutter." she said while walking towards the stairs "Any wishes as for the pasta?"

Her mother thought for a second "Penne could be nice. Oh, and buy a bottle of red wine as well."

Rosalinde nodded as she climbed the stairs "Can you take out my bike and unfold it? I'll change into something more appropriate –I can't go shopping with my pyjamas."

Arriving at the second floor, Rosalinde went for the second room in the row. There were four rooms on the second floor: the first one was her mothers, right next to it came Rosalinde's. At the right end of the floor was the so-called "hobby room", which was mainly used by Rosalinde when she practiced with her guitars –she had one acoustic and one electric guitar. On the parallel of Rosalinde's room was the bathroom and right next to it were the stairs leading up to the attic.

Opening the white, wooden door she entered her room. The walls were beige for now, she was going to paint them lilac later that week. In her room the first thing to see was her desk, which was at the corner, leaning the parallel wall. It was white, just like the door. On it were her laptop, a grey table lamp, some notebooks, a pen holder and a little cactus in a blue pot. On the wall, which was on the left side of her desk, three wall-mounted, white shelves could be seen. She had placed the snow globes she collected on the highest shelf, then came her candles on the middle one. The last shelf mostly contained random things that she couldn't find a better place to put.

Right next to the desk, a white bookcase with five shelves stood to its left. Only the upper two shelves were full, for that moment. Between the bookshelf and the bedside table was a window. Then to the right of the window she had her bedside table along with her bed, which was leaning the right wall of her room. The bedside table was light blue and had three drawers. In the first drawer she had her jewellery boxes and her hair pins, in the second one came her underwear and socks. The third one contained her pyjamas. On the bedside table she had a picture of her 14-year-old self, graduating from primary school in Germany. There was one other picture which was taken in Oslo the previous year, in which she was with Sven. Other than that she a clear jar that had an amethyst, a pinch of unused ground coffee and a handful of pine needles inside –which kept the negative energies away.

The quilt cover set of her bed was in a darker shade of purple, in addition she had hanged a dream catcher right above her bed. To the right of her bed was another window. Lastly her wardrobe was right next to the door, to its right. Yawning loudly, Rosalinde headed towards the grey wardrobe and took off her pyjamas, throwing them onto her bed. Then she wore a thick, maroon coloured sweatshirt and black, skinny, ripped jeans. As she took a look at herself at the mirror which was mounted on the outside of the wardrobe's right door, an unpleasant realisation hit her.

Argh, I have school tomorrow. And I am going to be the new girl. Again.

Putting her ID and some money in a small purse, Rosalinde took her phone and went downstairs. Her mother was waiting for Rosalinde at the door as she passed her daughter a black leather jacket. Placing the phone and the purse in the pocket of her jacket, Rosalinde wore her black Harley Davidson boots "Well, I'll be back soon." she told her mother.

"Sei vorsichtig, Liebling, wir sind noch ziemlich fremd in dieser Stadt!" her mother shouted behind Rosalinde as she mounted her bicycle. (Be careful, darling, we are still quite foreign to this town.)

Rosalinde did not bother looking back at her "Ich weiß, Mama!" (I know, mom.)

The ride to the supermarket was quite calming in fact. It took her approximately fifteen minutes and the weather was rather cold but she had always liked cold weather, it always made her feel alive and cleared the traffic of thoughts from her head. The streets were mostly empty, she had seen some cars here and there but it wasn't much. As she arrived at Spar, Rosalinde dismounted her bicycle and locked it to a nearby street lamp.

The supermarket was almost empty as well; the red-head quickly took a package of penne and a bottle of Chianti and headed to the cash desk. The cashier was an old woman with curly, grey hair and sharp blue eyes, which made Rosalinde feel uneasy in an unusual way. Upon seeing the blue eyed red-head, the old woman smiled as if she had known Rosalinde in person.

Not bothering to hide her frown, Rosalinde placed the things on the desk as she took out her purse from her pocket. The woman didn't ask for an ID while Rosalinde placed the pasta and the wine in a plastic bag "That's 237 krones." said the old woman. While Rosalinde was handing her 250 krones, their hands touched each other for a moment. The red-head gasped as the familiar feeling of being drawn into a vision surrounded her.

"You are a good kid." said the old woman to a tall, blonde boy wearing round glasses. As she smiled in an odd way, she raised her right hand –on her little finger she had two golden rings –to caress the boy's forehead. The boy gasped for air, his pupils widened for a moment, then returned to their regular shape. At the same time whispers in a different language could be heard.

"You are the chosen one, boy."

"Tor, God of thunder!"

"Innocent blood shall spill!"

"What was prophesised by the Völva thousands of years ago has come to occur –Ragnarøk!"

As the vision slowly let Rosalinde go, the red-head abruptly pulled her hand back. The old woman was eying her in a mischievous way. Quickly shaking herself, Rosalinde took the plastic bag and put her purse back in her pocket "You can keep the change."

Not daring to take another look at the old woman, the red-head left the supermarket at a trot. When she was outside, she took a deep breath in order to steady her mind and her heart, which was beating like crazy.

What the hell was that? And what is wrong with that woman? Argh, this town is beginning to annoy me already!

Should I tell mom about the vision I had?

No, not yet. First I have to see if I can interpret what I saw.

What brought Rosalinde back to reality was the sound of a whistle. After placing the plastic bag in the basket, which was attached to her bicycle, she turned back to look at the source. There were three boys leaning a black, 4x4 Volvo a few meters behind her. The one standing on the right had fair skin with brown hair and from what Rosalinde could make out, he had an attractive face. Next to him stood a blonde boy with his hair reaching his shoulders, he was slightly shorter than the brown haired one. The third one had dark brown dreadlocks at a level with his chin, he had dark skin.

Rosalinde raised an eyebrow in their direction.

The one with the dreadlocks called at Rosalinde "Hey, darling, are you from around here? 'Cus I ain't seen you before."

The red-head rolled her eyes at them as she showed the boys her middle finger and mounted her bike. She could hear one of them saying "Well, Oscar, seems like you've found a tough one here." while she drove away.

***

It was past 11pm when Rosalinde's mother came to her daughter's room, who was chatting with Sven "Meine Lieben, es wird spät und ihr geht zur Schule morgen. Ihr müsst schlafen." she said. (My dears, it's getting late and you have school tomorrow –you must sleep.)

Rosalinde was sitting on her bed crossed legged whereas Sven was sitting on the purple rug, leaning the bed "Mama, wir sind nicht fünf." the red-head spoke in an annoyed way. Sven chuckled. (Mom, we are not five.)

"Meine Mutter erwartet mich in einer halbe Stunde, Astrid, mach dir keine Sorgen." Sven responded with an understanding voice. The woman with ginger, shoulder-length hair smiled warmly at the teens and closed the door. (My mother expects me in half an hour, Astrid, don't worry.)

Rosalinde fell backwards onto her bed "I don't want to go to school!" she grumbled "The new girl process bores me."

Sven pushed a strand of blonde hair away from his face "I am not fond of it either but since we have no choice, just try to enjoy annoying everyone around you, Lin." the boy spoke "Except me, of course."

Rosalinde chuckled as she straightened, once more sitting on her bed "You know me way too well, Sven." she said while she messed his soft, blonde hair.

Sven pushed away Rosalinde's hand "Hey, hands off my hair." he muttered as they heard a scratching sound coming from behind the door. Sven laughed "Well, this was your call, cat mom.”

Rosalinde stood up reluctantly and headed towards the door. As she opened the white door, a grey Scottish Fold entered the room "You just could not stay downstairs, could you?" Rosalinde said and took her cat into her arms, heading to her bed once again.

"Is Valkyrie happy about moving to Edda?" Sven asked while he patted the cat. Valkyrie started to purr.

Rosalinde shrugged "I have no idea, she had been sleeping the whole day –including the car trip." the red-head responded as she raised the cat into the air to level its face with hers. Then she left a kiss on Valkyrie's nose, which in response jumped from Rosalinde's hold and fell on its four feet onto the floor.

Sven smiled "Somebody does not want to be loved tonight." he said while standing up. He moved to Rosalinde's desk and took his coat from her chair.

"Ah, it's just Valkyrie being grumpy like her owner." Rosalinde murmured, then raised an eyebrow at Sven "Leaving already?"

"I am tired, Lin –I wasn't the one who slept straight for two hours in the car." Sven said after wearing his coat "Meet you at eight?"

Rosalinde nodded as she watched him leave "Gute Nacht, kleines Mäuschen!" she shouted behind Sven. (Good night, little mouse!)

"Ich bin kein Mäuschen, Lin, hör schon auf!" Sven shouted back in response from downstairs. Rosalinde laughed, she had been calling him little mouse since they were sixteen to annoy him whenever she got the chance. The biggest reason behind it was the fact that Sven was afraid of mice. (I am no little mouse, Lin, give up already!)

I am so lucky to have a best friend like him.

•

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Well, how was it? Was it worth your time? I am literally dying to hear your feedbacks!!!! I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter (:

Do not forget to give me feedbacks ((:

Take care ^-^

[9uk]

From The Bottom of My Heart

cr

⌲ summary : maybe you and Jungkook, through heaven or hell, have always meant to stay close to each other.

⌲ pairing : bully!jungkook x reader

⌲ word count : 3.6k

⌲ genre : angst, fluff idk

⌲ warnings : mentions of past abuse, xoxo

⌲ a/n : this is what y’all hoes wanted hehe, so here it is. Happy New Year’s in advanced! also, happy birthday taetae <3

**Spin-off from my series Let Me Stay Close To You. If you haven’t read it, I’d suggest you read it first to have a better understanding of the context of this story. Read it here.

It's that time of the year again—where gifts are exchanged and gingerbread houses are made, where evergreen conifers are decorated with ornaments hung by the overly-excited children and the smell of Ceylon tea, baked  potatoes and ham fills the kitchen. Everyone gathers around the fireplace and share their strange or ridiculous encounters over the year, laughters bursting and smiles everlasting while the star ornament sits on top of the Christmas tree gently, shining.

At least that's what you think Christmas is like, and should be.

In the sad world of reality, you have always spent the festive occasion coped up in your mother's café, selling log cakes and butterscotch cookies, telling kids to be careful with the hot chocolate you have just created and handed over to them.

It's the season when the shop is exceptionally busy, with overflowing customers who have foam gathered on their upper lips as they chat with joy over a cup of peppermint mocha latte.

It's supposed to be a wonderful period—well at least for you this year.

You are thousands of miles away from that crusty coffee place your mother runs, and you have completely forgotten about everything you've painstakingly memorised on the Christmas menu.

When you first received a hug from Sooyoung in what seemed like decades, the gesture ignited a small thought at the back of your head, that Christmas this year was going to be a little less lonely and spiced with fun instead. Who would have thought that friendships can appear as strong steel bridges of bonds, but yet so easily snap like a wooden plank.

With the money you received from your parents and the pay you get at that greasy restaurant, you were able to rent a not too shabby apartment a few streets from the university. But the fact that you are now living alone, that's the part that creeps into your late night thoughts at times.

You clearly remember Jungkook bugging you with an undefeated persistence to get your ass to the Christmas party Taehyung holds every year.

"C'mon, it will be fun. I promise, you have me!"

He knows what you have in mind, that all your friends have left your side and you would feel like a total loser and loner at the party.

Ex-friends, you mean.

If it weren't for them, you wouldn't have attended a single party at all.

He continues nudging your arm and whining for what seems like the nth time. "Please-"

"Okay, okay."

He looks at you with those big round glossy eyes you can't say no to. "I'll go."

And that is why you are currently freaking out over what to wear to the party. If only Sooyoung was—nevermind, screw that.

You fish out a random black dress from your closet and headed out before you changed your mind.

Being alone is no obstacle to you. It was being alone at a party that frightened you, it was a place where you are supposed to enter with friends—to be able to slowly fit into the crowd and be comfortable with the atmosphere in the house.

However, you were feeling jittery—much more than when you are called out to present your answer in front of the whole class. You didn't realise how accustomed you were to Sooyoung's constant bubbly presence beside you, not until this day. The party had just begun a while ago, and you hoped your entrance would hold the least significance to anyone in there, and you brushed off the thought of everyone's eyes on your weird form. That brat Jungkook had told you that he'd be waiting for you inside, and made you come to the party all by yourself.

What were you so afraid of anyway?

Maybe a couple of rumours had been spread between the ladies, and they would send you judgemental looks—but you were very used to it since the start, so why are you being so self-conscious right now?

Nonetheless, you picked up the phone and decided to dial someone—correction. The only one who you acquainted with in this college and is still on good (but strange) terms with you.

It was clear as day and green as grass that Namjoon has begun to harbour an interest much more than just physical attraction for you. During occasional study dates and the tutoring he offers you, you never once failed to catch him staring at you at least twice. You were pretty sure that there weren't any vegetable stuck between your teeth or crumbs on the corner of your lip though.

"What?" You look up to meet his eyes.

"What?" The both of you chuckle at the same time when he immediately shoots the question back at you.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" Namjoon is rendered speechless, it was almost as if all the excuses for him gawking at you in this manner had transformed into useless brain juice.

You were so far the first and only person who didn't judge or criticise him based on his looks. You even thought he was handsome and told him that straight in his face, and it made him wonder if you had standards lower than hell. "Nothing much, I-I think you look gorgeous today." He quickly averts his gaze to the homework before him, pretending to scribble somehing just to avoid your eyes and hide his blush. You shift your chair closer to him and lean in towards his face. "So...you mean only today?" You purposely pout.

His head shoots up, flabbergasted and he instantly corrects his words. "No! I mean—"

A cheeky smile grows on your face to replace the initial pout and you reassure him, "I'm just kidding, relax."

Namjoon's lips part slightly before he shakes his head and grins at your antics.

Namjoon informs you of his boredom and agrees to go with you to the party.

As expected, the house is filled with people for the alcohol here is free. In the stressful life of books and papers, who wouldn't mind a shot of tequila or two?

Namjoon is the gentleman that he is, offering you a ride to the venue but you politely decline. Instead, you choose to make your way over alone and meet him at the party itself. Having him accompany you was more than enough.

Your hand is on the handle of the front door to Taehyung's house and you cannot help but shift your weight nervously between your two feet. For some reason, the loud noises travelling from the inside are making your breath quicken and the overthinking to get to the better of you. You really hoped that not a single person would be attracted to your tiny appearance at this major party. It was then you realised how much Sooyoung and friends made you feel comfortable attending a huge party like this, they held your hand and gave you the much assurance you needed—that you were not alone.

And now you're back to square one.

What if everyone was playing games and having fun but suddenly upon your arrival the music dies down and all heads would be turned towards the main door with faces glaring at you?

Even though that is something that least likely would happen, you still prepare yourself for an unfortunate event like the aforementioned, or the worst that could happen. Right, just retreat and go home to the comfort of your laptop and bag of chips. And probably never face anyone in school ever again. Jesus Christ, the more of you think about it, your grip on the door handle is beginning to loosen and you would really be in bed in no less than a second. And your hesitance would result in a disappointed Jeon Jungkook.

Wait no, your meekly absence would never disappoint anyone.

You're not that important in such annual affairs.

You're not Regina George or something.

Now you feel stupid in this over-planned outfit and your makeup feels too extra.

You're just a loser with like barely any friends. Get it together. Why did you even agree to come? Just because Jeon Jungkook begged at the minimum? And he's nowhere to be seen. Just text Namjoon you're not feeling well, perfect excuse. You should have just remained at home where-

"Y/N!" The dark oak door suddenly flies open causing you to jump a little. His eyes are wide and shining with excitement, the dimples and wide grin supporting the assumption.

"How long have you been standing there? Come on in!" Namjoon is acting more like the host of the party than Taehyung is with the lovely invitation.

After he takes a proper look at you, his tongue darts out to wet his lips and he reaches out to intertwine his hand with yours to pull you into the house.

To say that you were merely overthinking would be an understatement.

Everybody was minding their own business, whether you stepped foot inside or not.

No one even acknowledged or is aware about your presence.

Except for a certain someone.

Namjoon is still holding your hand in a gentle yet possessive way, and he is different today for an unknown cause.

His confidence is exceptionally striking today and is clearly radiating off him. He is finally able to raise his head to meet the eyes of people with ease.

The way he waves and firmly greets an acquaintance walking past him and makes his way through the group of people in this place— makes you smile involuntarily, for you recall he first time you met him, when he didn't even have the courage to lift his head to face you.

He leads you to an empty spot and cages your head between his both palms fixated onto the wall. Namjoon looks just about ready to devour you whole there and then.

"Someone's...confident tonight." You quirk a brow up and place your hands on his hips to pull him a little closer.

Nothing but an innocent gesture.

Teasing him was fun and you both enjoyed it. Your touch sends him groaning softly to himself and he tries to resist from kissing you there and then.

"Look princess," He calls lowly, "Let's take things slow tonight."

It was the first time he has ever called you by that pet name and you must admit you're rather turned on—no, taken aback, you mean. Right, just surprised.

The feeling of someone intensely staring is doing nothing but growing stronger with every inch Namjoon is gradually closing between your faces. It felt like sharp daggers shooting right at the both of you at that moment and it made whatever you were doing become uncomfortable.

For you were under the predatory gaze of someone.

Suddenly, when Namjoon's lips finally bump into yours, you felt like he was too close for your liking.

You had no idea why you were feeling and acting this way, but you pushed his body away from yours. He panics and questions if he has crossed the line worryingly. "No, no, sorry I need to excuse myself to the washroom. " You desperately wave both hands to assure that it had nothing got to do with him—but you.

It didn't feel right at all.

And with that, you hastily left his side, dashing upstairs to god knows where.

You're in search of a balcony or some sort, a quiet area that gets your fresh air and being alone.

Maybe it was too much to take, with how Namjoon was acting so boldly, and how things would escalate to another level once you give him consent. You also did not wish for the friendship to be left in shattered pieces after the both of you do something friends should not do.

Maybe he was stepping on the line, and you were decisive enough to push him further from it—but not enough to tell him. It would bring his well built self-esteem down. If you were going to reject him, you would have to do it properly and respectfully.

[20:44] Me: hey joon, i'm sorry. i needed to leave because something cropped up at home. the next ben & jerry's will be my treat. see you ard

You switch off your phone and tuck it away into your small bag.

You had just so happen to find a balcony when you randomly entered one of the rooms upstairs. Lucky for you, there weren’t any people banging the life out of each other in the bedroom you selected. You quietly shut the door close behind you as your eyes roam around the four walls.

On the dresser, there is a picture frame of Taehyung with his family at highschool graduation. You waltz your way over to the family portrait and pick it up carefully.

You swipethe layer of dust coating the glass with your finger and Taehyung and his family smiling brightly can be seen clearly.

He hasn’t changed much, boxy grin and cresent eyes still intact.

There is a sense of longing and envy blooming in your heart, and it clenches tightly, sourly.

You never had the blessing to be able to spend your graduation day with your family, the entire school is clueless that you even have a father. You lived your teen years in shame and hiding. It’s a pity because you did not have the opportunity to take pictures like Taehyung did in the open field, throwing his hat up to the sky and receiving flowers from his parents. Placing the frame down gently, you went to the balcony and closed the curtains for privacy in case anyone happened to come in to disrupt your moment of peace.

“What the hell are you doing?” Taehyung snatches his wrist away from Jungkook’s hard grip. He slams the door shut and confronts Taehyung. “Were you the one who invited that Namjoon guy?”

He furrows his brows at his friend, beyond agitated.

“Who?!” Taehyung questions back. “I don’t even know who-”

“Then do you know where Y/N is?” Jungkook prompts again, desperate.

“And how would I know that? You were the one secretly staring at her ever since she came in.” Taehyung had a point. But right when he saw Namjoon approach you, and you willingly went along to wherever he brought you—he couldn’t bear to just watch and not be able to do anything. Just then, a random girl went up to him and tried her luck—but obviously to no avail. After he shrugged her pestering, you were nowhere to be seen. Namjoon too, had disappeared somewhere else and he started growing worried. Had Namjoon managed to get you to his place?

“Ah…” He plops down onto his friend’s bed and tugs at his hair in frustration. The thought of Namjoon having his way with you and all to himself makes him boil in anger. He thinks you don’t deserve Namjoon, who has tried his shot with almost every girl—yet at the same time he thinks he is unworthy of you as well.

There is an inner conflict going on between his heart and mind. Was it really right to have someone he did not deserve at all? Will he even manage to get closer to you, open up your world and heal the both of your broken hearts together? Jungkook is capable at countless things—except you.

You were the enigma in his life, so forbidden and mysterious that he really wants to connect and share a special bond with you. He doesn’t say it aloud, but you meant a lot to him in a way or another.

“Something bothering you?” Taehyung probes, folding his arms trying to figure out his bestfriend.

“How…How do you confess to someone?”  

The question comes out as a shocker to Taehyung, but he is willing to help his friend out in a time of crisis for such a matter.

“Ha! You’ve came to the right person.” Taehyungs face beams with delight. “First,” He reaches out to grab Jungkook’s hand and interlace his fingers together with his. “Hold her hand. Properly, tightly. To show that you’re genuine in your confession. Also, to show how serious and certain you are about her.” Jungkook’s face contorts in disgust at the sight of Taehyung being a cheesy romantic. “Then,” He pulls Jungkook up from his bed and leans into his ear. “Look her in the face and tell her every word from the bottom of your heart. The words you’ve been wanting to tell her but never got the chance to..” Jungkook is frozen stiff with his bestfriend demonstrating on him. But Taehyung doesn’t stop.

He leans in close and pulls Jungkook into a tight hug. “Hug her! It must be tight as well, so that she can feel the affection you are trying to show.” Taehyung squeezes Jungkook and squeals happily for him. “Get off me! You’re squashing me dude!” Jungkook almost couldn’t breathe and Taehyung pats his back before stepping away. “That’s about it, there can be bonus if you want.”

“Nope, I’m good.” Jungkook smiles and pushes Taehyung to at least an arm’s length away.

“Back to real talk though, it’s Y/N isn’t it?”

“Did someone call me?” You emerge from the curtains through the balcony sliding doors, pretending to be oblivious. Jungkook presses his lips into a line and looks down at the floor, embarrassed to the sky. Taehyung notices and quickly announces that he has to host the party.

You carried on with your act, seeing as to how flustered Jungkook was becoming.

“I thought Taehyung called me.”

“No.” Jungkook hides his hands into the pockets of his jeans to appear collected, but truth is he was hiding how shaky and nervous he was around you—and the possibility that you had just heard their entire conversation.

“Is that so?” You doubt. Jungkook doesn’t reply, only giving you a nod of affirmation. “Well if that is so, I’ll make my leave.”

You smile at him and head for the door. Jungkook’s mouth open slightly.

“Wait, Y/N!”

The feeling of his fingers softly wrapped around your wrist is unexplainable—unlike the past, this time he holds you with care and a mindfulness to not hurt you in any way.

You spin around to face him.

“Uh, yes?”

Jungkook had always known you were decent looking, but this time you looked extraordinarily beautiful. The way you looked at him through your long lashes, the faded cherry lip tint you had on, your rich long locks falling over your shoulder and the mini black dress that hugged your figure so perfectly your cures were on display—you were the epitome of perfect, looking so endearing in a simple outfit as such and he swore to the heavens he would take immense care of you if you were ever in his arms. The scar doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and his stomach twists in an unpleasant manner at the sight of it. He is still unable to accept how he treated you in the past, and he hates himself more than anything for it—he wishes that you would at least grant him a chance to make up for his wrongdoings.

There is a need surging throughout his body, into his legs; stepping closer to you, into his hands; coming up to run his fingers through your hair and hold your face in place, and his face; diving in recklessly to smash his lips onto yours.

Maybe you thought that he would go according to Taehyung’s plan—confess then give you a a warm hug. But this wasn’t what you were expecting at all. 

Jungkook kisses you like it was the last time when it’s only the first, he tilts his head and meld his lips feverishly with yours. It feels like forever with the way he is kissing you, so slow and intimate yet so hasty and desperate. You are able to feel the feelings he is trying to convey through this intimacy—filled with regret, want and a sense of belonging. You belonged to him. Back then, now and in the future. Always. 

You wrap your arms around his waist and pull him in closer, mouth opening to grant his tongue access. He smiles into the kiss for a split moment before his tongue is darting out to swirl messily with yours, causing you to moan softly in his mouth. His grasp on your jaw doesn’t loosen and he bites down onto your lower lip before reluctantly pulling away.

A glow of red starts creeping onto his cheeks when the both of you look at each other, faces shy yet hearts pulsating with happiness.

You are the first to break the silence, smiling up at him, “That was…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Everything between you and Jungkook had gone through mountains and seas, but this time—it escalated quickly to a whole new level. It was too much to accept at the moment, but it felt great with him for some reason. The both of you, so unfamiliar with each other’s worlds, yet understanding them to a depth no one outside can reach. There was still much to learn about each other, but you already felt this inseparable connection with the man standing before you.

You allow yourself to bury yourself into his chest and muffle your giggles, and he encases you in his muscular arms in a way never before. Hugging him made you feel complete, like two hearts that were finally pieced together as one. It provided you with a warmth so peculiar and never felt before. It felt surreal, almost akin to a dream.

He strokes your hair lovingly and places a firm yet chaste kiss on the top of your head. “Let me stay close to you Y/N,” He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. “For a long, long time…I will love and take care of you all my life.” 

You smile and flutter your eyes close, waddling aimlessly around the room with arms around each other basking in the shining moonlight—never wanting to let go of each other.

[yougottalovebuckybarnes]

Til Death Do Us Part

A/N: idk why I’m writing all angsty/sad  imagines, but I’ll try to get out a fluffy one soon, I promise. P.S., I hope this isn’t super shitty.

Kinda based off an imagine I read on Tumblr.

---

On that day just shy of a month ago... we promised ourselves to each other.  We read our vows to one another, promising to love and support each other in sickness and in health, and everything that went along with it... until death do us part.

The reality of the last statement seemed ages away, a day that we would never have to even think about until we were retired in a nice home far away from... whatever you would call this mess. The Avengers... the fighting... everything. 

Bucky promised me that we would leave, as soon as everything was alright. He did not want to leave Steve and the others to the chaos of the world around them, and I understood. I was reasonable, and agreed to stay with him. All was well.

Until one night, everything suddenly wasn’t

I was laying on my shared bed on my laptop, looking at houses tucked far out of view in the country. Bucky was on a mission with Steve and a few of the others. A loud crash broke the comfortable silence and I frowned as I shut my computer and sat up. “Friday, what’s going on?”

The bedroom door burst open, and a large man in black stepped into the room, a nasty grin on his face. “I’ll give you three guesses.” 

My eyes focused on a patch on his uniform: a red circle with a black octopus. I froze as I glanced back at his face. “You can’t have him.”

“Oh, I can’t?” He laughed and shook his head as he stepped closer to the bed. “Who said he was my mission?”

My throat went dry as he pulled a knife from his belt and continued to move closer. I shifted and moved towards the opposite end of the bed before pulling out a gun from my nightstand drawer. “Don’t get any closer.”

“You know... I would’ve thought you would’ve been a lot more intimidating, being the Winter Soldier’s wife and all...” In a split of a second, the knife flew threw the air and pierced my hand, causing the gun to slip through my fingers and a cry of pain from my lips. “But really, you’re just a soft girl from the city who some how managed to get past his ugly history with HYDRA.”

I pulled the knife out with a grunt, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my hand as the blood trailed down onto the clean sheets. “He’s never going to return into your hands, no matter what you do.” 

“Really?” He lunged forward and grabbed my wrist, yanking me towards him. “You don’t think that murdering his wife won’t prompt him to seek revenge and coming to find us?”

“He knows better than that.” I gritted my teeth before spitting in his face, causing him to reel backwards. I used the opportunity to land on my back and kick him in the crotch. After he released my wrist, I scrambled off the bed and grabbed my phone before running out of the room. As I tried to find somewhere to hide, I immediately called Bucky.  “Pick up, pick up, pick up.” I gritted my teeth as I found a closet and went inside, locking the door behind me.

After a few seconds, the line clicked and a cheery voice began to speak. “Well, how is my darling wife doing this evening?”

“How far are you from home?” I whispered urgently, hearing the man start to walk down the hall. 

“Not far. Probably twenty minutes. Why?”

“No matter what happens, Buck, do not go after them. Okay?” I felt the tears pool in my eyes and become evident in my tone. “Stay away.”

“What’s going on?” HIs voice was concerned and I closed my eyes as I leaned my head back against the wall. 

“A HYDRA agent got inside. I’m hiding for now, but he’s still here, looking for me. “ 

I heard shouting in the background before my husband began to speak again. “Hold on for us, doll. We’re trying to get there faster.” 

A loud fist banged against the door and I let out a small whimper. “I know you’re in there, Mrs. Barnes. You might as well open up and accept your fate. I’ll even make it easier for you. Just a simple bullet to the brain. Nothing personal.”

“I love you, James.” I whispered into the phone. “Don’t go after them.” 

Before he could say another word, I hung up the phone and remained silent as the man began to try to open the door. After the fourth attempt, the door came smashing down and I was face to face with my own death. He grinned at me and shook his head. “This is going to be fun.”

---

Bucky’s POV

“I said PUSH IT, not go fucking slower!” My voice was almost at a yell, as I watched Tony fumbling with the controls on the plane. 

“I’m trying, Snowflake, just shut up and sit down!”

“Come on, Buck.” Steve grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to sit down. My body was too tense to relax, and my hands were shaking. How could this happen? How could we not know that they were planning something like this? “Bucky, you need to relax.”

“I can’t fucking relax, not when my wife is stuck in the tower with a fucking agent who wants to kill her!” I yanked away from his grip before sitting down. “How could we not know?!”

“It’s not the time to ask questions. We just need to get there in time.” 

“One minute till arrival.” Tony called from up front, and I stood up again, cocking my gun. In all 101 years of being alive, I had never once felt so damn scared. We could only hope that we got there in time. 

---

As soon as I entered the tower, I could hear the sound of shattering glass and grunts from only a few rooms away. My legs felt almost numb as they carried me towards the sound, terrified about what I was about to see.

A large man had Y/n pinned to the floor, straddling her body and with his hands moving to secure themselves around her throat. Her hair was soaked with blood from a large cut along her hair line, and a dark bruises shadowed around her eyes. She looked broken, clinging to her life as he began to suffocate her. 

I fired a shot and it hit him in between his shoulders. He let out a loud cry and fell off of her onto the floor. While the others ran to Y/N’s side, I grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and pulled him up so our eyes were inches from each others. 

“You’re a fucking dead man.” I growled.  He only laughed as more blood spilled from his bullet wound. 

“Not as dead as your wife is going to be.”

“We got here just in time, and I will kill as many more of HYDRA’s goons as I have to to keep her safe.” 

“You didn’t.” He coughed, and blood trailed down his chin. “You didn’t get to see the knife I stuck into her. She was almost dead when you got here. I’m sure she’s passed out by now.” 

Without second thought, I wrapped my metal arm around his throat and squeezed hard. A sharp snap could be heard from across the room, and his eyes rolled up to face the sky. I threw his body down, before I heard my voice being called. 

“Bucky... it doesn’t look good.” Steve’s eyes were filled with sadness and I got up immediately to rush to Y/N’s side. 

Her Y/E/C eyes were watery with tears of pain as I knelt down beside her. Before I could say a word, my eyes landed on her torso. A large sharp knife was embedded into her stomach, and as each second passed, more blood sept through her white t-shirt and onto the slippery floors of the living room. 

“No.” I shake my head as a large lump grew in my throat. “No, this can’t be happening. Not right now, not tomorrow, not for a long time.”

“I-I’m so sorry, Bucky.” Her bloody hand grabbed onto mine, and squeezed it tightly. “I should’ve been ready. I-”

“Don’t apologize, doll.” I took her body in my arms, my heart breaking as her face twisted in pain with each movement she made. “None of this is your damn fault. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to save you.”

“You remember what I said on the phone.” She moved her hand to cup my face. “Don’t go after them. They want you. And they can’t have you. Not again.”

“They can’t get away with this.” I shake my head as I leaned into her touch and placed my hand on hers. “No fucking way.”

“We’ll be with him, Y/N.” Tony says from behind us, his own voice shaky. He looked at me and nodded. “We won’t let them take him back.”

My eyes focused back on Y/N as I could see the light slowly starting to die. My arms tightened slightly, not wanting for her to go. “Stay with me, doll.”

“Till death do us part...” Tears began to stream down her face as she whispered the words. “It’s time for me to go, Buck.”

“No. You can’t.” My voice broke as my own tears began to erupt to the surface. “It’s not time yet. We’re supposed to move out into the country, grow old together, have a family. You’re not supposed to die tonight.”

“You have no idea how much I want to stay.” A sob escaped her lips, and she sniffled before pulling my face down closer to hers. My forehead rested against hers as our eyes closed. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, doll.”  I cried out softly, before I pressed my lips against hers gently. For a few moments, our lips moved in sync perfectly, just as they had days before, a sealed promise that we would be together again. But this was one that sealed a departure, one that she couldn’t come back from. And I was broken. 

When I pulled back, her eyes were glazed as they stared up at me, and her mouth went slightly slack. Her hand fell from my face and I knew that my wife was gone. The one person I promised to love and  protect with my life,  till death due us part. I had let her down. 

“No.” I whispered, before shaking her body slightly. “Please, Y/N... please wake up.” 

“Bucky...” Steve’s hand clasped onto my shoulder, and I yanked away as I tried to save her, despite knowing deep down that there was nothing I could do. 

“There has to be something we can do!” my voice had risen and cracked with the tears that were surfacing. “We can’t just let her slip away!”

“Bucky!” Steve knelt in front of me. “Let the doctors take her away. That’s what you can do. That’s what she would want. “

My lip trembled but I let my grip on her body loosen and her body slipped from my arms. My hands slid up to my face, covering the tears that were falling freely down my face as sobs wracked my body. Steve wrapped his arm around my shoulder and helped me to my feet slowly. 

The days passed, then the funeral passed... 

I did not once smile or laugh or feel anything other than the immense searing pain of loss. It was all my fault, and there was nothing that I could do. My life, my life... was gone. 

But the one feeling morphed into two... when the location of a new central HYDRA base popped up onto the Avengers radar. A burning hot rage burned in my chest, and I knew that it was time. I turned to Steve. “Are you with me?”

“Till the end of the line.” He nodded, sorrow in his eyes at the remembrance of Y/N. 

And with that... we went out. I knew that no matter what the outcome was, I would never be the same. 

I would never be the same Bucky Barnes that Steve had in the 40s again... I would never crack jokes about Sam or make fun of that kid in the Spider suit or have playful arguments with Tony again. 

The part of me that had joy... 

It was all gone. 

Part of me died with Y/N, and I didn’t know how I would ever get it back.

---

A/N 2: Ugh, I can’t believe how sad I made this. :( So so so so sorry... But I’ll make a happy one soon, I promise! (Just like I mentioned above)

[thefanficmonster]

Caught Red-handed

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing, Struggling with migraines 

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having suffered from migraines all their life, Y/N knows better than to give them much attention or let them hinder their work too much. However, their boyfriend is a lot more worried than they are and has taken it as his personal duty to ease their pain as much as he possibly can. 

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to get to it, write and post it, but here it finally is and I hope you come across it and read it! I’ve never experienced migraines nor have I known someone who has so if I’ve misrepresented or written any misinformation, anyone who catches it, feel free to let me know either in the comments or in my inbox/messages! Love, Vy ❤

The first time I got a headache was in the middle of math class in eighth grade. I remember it so distinctly because I had never before experienced such sudden and such intense pain. I got to go home early that day and spent a good portion of the day trying to sleep it off but to no avail.

Since then I’ve grown used to having to deal with a pain so strong it renders me unable to function for a whole day about two times a month. Sometimes, I even try to be stubborn with it - I try to push through as much work as I can despite the migraine, but that never works out for a long time considering it ends up crippling me in the end. That’s never kept me from trying over and over again though!

Now, to contrast my nonchalance and even annoyance with these pesky attacks, is my boyfriend Corpse’s concern over them. I’ve tried explaining to him that I’ve grown used to them and that I try not to let them bother me and that he shouldn’t stress over them so much but I may as well be talking to a wall because all he has to do is see me squint my eyes or cringe and he enters concerned-mother mode. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it to no end, I just don’t want him worrying over something so small. Also, a minor convenience: if the migraine doesn’t hinder me from tending to my tasks, Corpse will. He’ll make sure I’m off the task I’m working and transported into bed in an instant.

That’s why I’m now clenching my jaw, struggling to maintain a poker face as I work on an important project I have to send to my boss by the start of next week. I’ve got plenty of time, but I like to stay on top of my work so it doesn’t pile on top of me, you know what I’m saying. Corpse is sitting on the couch next to me, casually glancing at me every now and then while remaining quiet as to not disturb me. So far so good, he hasn’t noticed anything and, if I didn’t know any better I would sigh in relief. There’s nothing to trigger the pain to arise any further - the lights are dim, I’m staying hydrated, and I downed two painkillers in the bathroom about an hour and a half ago - so I’m sure I’ll be in the clear at least until dinner.

“Wanna watch a movie when you’re done?“ Corpse asks, “Unless you’re tired or anything...“

I flash him a grateful smile, giving his knee a squeeze of reassurance, “I’d love to, babe. But I can’t promise that I won’t fall asleep.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I know you’ve got a tendency of doing that.” Giving me a side-glance he adds, “It’s cute.”

I roll my eyes, already sensing a blush creeping up on my cheeks and neck which I hide by turning to face my laptop screen. One thing I can’t hide though is the wide grin that’s spread across my face as I mutter: “Shut up.”

Just then, a particularly sharp jolt of pain courses through my head, testing that ability to maintain a resting face. Thankfully, Corpse is turned in the opposite direction, searching for his phone, so I allow myself a brief cringe at the discomfort. 

Guess the painkillers are dying down on me, I think to myself, a second away from sighing exasperatedly at the thought that I have to down two more. It was wishful of me to think I could enjoy the luxury of a dull ache until dinner, now the migraine is straight up mocking me.

I quietly stand up from the couch and make my way to the bathroom so I can take another dose of aspirin because I don’t think I’ll be able to focus on my work for very long if it keeps hitting me with this intensity. Opening the door to the small cabinet above the sink, I automatically reach out for the bottle of pills but stop when I see a surprise.

Directly in front of the bottle stands a note written in, you guessed it, Corpse’s handwriting.

‘Already losing effect, huh? When are you thinking of coming clean?‘

Well shoot, am I that transparent?

I sheepishly exit the bathroom, walking back into the living room where Corpse greets me with the same stance as a parent greeting their kid who’s gotten home past curfew: legs crossed, arms folded over his chest, one eyebrow raised, the whole nine yards.

“Yeah, they’re already losing effect.“ I admit, a small apologetic smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks burning with an embarrassed blush. “And I wasn’t gonna tell you at all.” I hurry to add: “Please don’t be mad though.“

Corpse shifts slightly, his gaze giving me a onceover as he contemplates how to pursue the case. I’ve already got several arguments/defenses ready - the perks of working for a lawyer - but I know he’ll dismiss all of them no matter how strong they might come off as in court. Bottom line: even statements that would fly in court can’t fly with Corpse sometimes. Especially when my health and well-being are the topic of observation.

“What have we said about lying?“ He finally asks, causing me to cringe and ball my fists in guilt.

However, I still have my arguments ready: “You never asked me so I never technically lied.” One might say I have quite the audacity to plead not guilty right now, even though I’ve been caught red-handed, but what can I say, I’m stubborn in nature. And Corpse knows this, he’s just testing me for his own amusement.

“Poor excuse, Y/N.“ He says with disapproval, shaking his head and fully embracing his disappointed parent persona. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. So, as punishment for hiding the truth from me, you are to ditch that project you’ve been bugging yourself over and come cuddle and watch a movie with me. Bonus points for you if you fall asleep.“

I needn’t be told twice - not only will it wipe that look off his features but it’ll also get earn me a movie night with the additional benefit of cuddling with my boyfriend? - how could I refuse?

I can’t help it, I just gotta push my luck here and poke the bear with a stick, “If the punishments are so sweet I might start being dishonest more often.“

Corpse rolls his eyes, scooting on the couch and tapping the space he’s freed up for me, “I said I was feeling generous, don’t bet on it happening often though.”

Alright, enough luck-pushing, I should be grateful for this generosity instead. I should be using it to the max.

So, what’s stopping you from doing just that?

Good question, brain, good question.

Head still pounding just not as intensely, I slip under the thin soft comforter to find myself not only wrapped in it but also in Corpse’s arm, his warm embrace bringing me instant comfort, walking me on the tight-rope of falling asleep right away.

“Sneaky bastard.“ I attempt to mutter, yawning halfway through. 

I feel his lips on the top of my head, placing a quick and gentle kiss in my hair before he says, “You’re welcome, babe.”

Count your lucky stars, Y/N. You’ve got one of the good ones.

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[eerythingisshaka]

The Coffee Prince Pt. 1

Word Count: 2.6K

T’Challa x Reader

Plot:  Stuck in your ways of living, one day at the coffee shop, you run into a tall dark roast that threatens to wake you up from your romantic hibernation.

You are a notorious homebody; your laptop, bed, and streaming sites are all you need make a Friday night litty titty and you took pride in your introversion.  Growing up, school is all about who you know, what clique you are a part of, what parties you get invited to, clothes you wear, etc.  It was tiring on your psyche back then, and some complexes had formed due to all of that keeping up the the jones’ crap.  Nobody has time for that when you’re an adult, so you fully enveloped your true hermit lifestyle.  Then this nigga comes along, 6’0, adorable accent, beautifully crafted body draped in the finest clothes. Intelligent, with a crooked smile that could light a fire underwater.  

Y’all first met in line waiting to get coffee.  You had your headphones in, common defense to make sure no one fucks with you on a regular basis.  Once you made your order, you stood off to the side waiting for you order.  He was next but when the barista had a look on her face that was completely confused and more than annoyed.  You let one earbud hang as this intrigued you, especially since this was a white barista and a Black man at a Starbucks you had to make sure everything was cool, for the culture.  By the time you had an available ear, he was waving his hand at the exasperated worker and walking toward the area you stood.  

He looked at you for a moment as he made his way over, and you gave that tight smile that said ‘I am friendly but don’t expect anything more than this smile’, instinctively.  He nodded in your direction and stood about five feet from you.  

“Order for…..” the male barista squinting at his own writing.  “Uhhh, caramel macchiato, double shot?”

“That’s mine!  Thanks!”  you stepped up to the counter to pick up your drink, but checking him out your fellow patron in your peripheral.  You turn to take a quick sip and steal a glance at the same time, noticing him giving you a sideways smile before saying, “You too, huh?”

His accent caught you off guard for a second before you computed what he said.  It wasn’t hard to comprehend, but it’s very noticeable.

“Oh, yeah, I get this drink all the time.  Not like I’m here everyday, but…”

“Order for Thomas!” the male barista says loudly.

He walks up to the counter grabbing his cup.  He goes over to the side table to pick up some sugar, napkins, and a stirrer.  You follow picking up some napkins, before he begins again.

“I mean the barista; he has a problem reading your name.  He didn’t even try.”  He says as he add the sugar.

“Yeah, which could be a blessing or an insult.  But I’m used to it.”  You both share a sip of your caffeinated concoctions.

“But what was the problem with your name?  Was she not able to get past your accent or something?”

“What accent?”  He said, with a serious look.

You almost choke on your coffee when he said this.  What accent?  Did you just strike up a conversation with one of those people that went into a coma and woke up talking different?  You would get the cute and crazy type of nigga.

“Umm, I don’t know…” you stutter.

He looks away laughing to himself, “I’m only kidding.  My apologies for startling you.”  He says with a slight bow to you.

You nod in return to him, “It’s ok, I’m pretty damn gullible at times.  Good one!”

He smiles down at his cup, “Thanks, but my accent was not primary issue, no.  It was my name, like you.  So I just gave her the name Thomas to move things along.” he says bringing the cup to his mouth again.  You notice the length of his fingers…and no ring.

“Ah, I’m always nervous about giving a fake name.  Like, if they check my card and it isn’t the same they’ll question me or refuse service or something.”

“Oh, I didn’t think it would ever get that serious; it’s not a military base.”

You give a side eye, “How long have you been in America?”

He smiles, nodding, “I’m learning new things everyday.  But it’s been a little over a year now.”

“Are you from an African country?”

“Yes, a small village  near the central, eastern part.”

“Nice.  That’s so cool to know where you’re from, ancestrally.  It seems like everyone reps their set. But I still can’t get past the Southern states.”

He nods, checking his timepiece next to a beaded bracelet around his wrist.

“Oh, I’m sorry, if you need to be somewhere.  I’m not usually talkative with strangers.”

His mouth goes agape for a moment, “Well I don't think we could call ourselves strangers.  We are bonded by the oppression of our caffeine dealers who refuse to look us in the eye or remember our names.”  He holds his cup out and you meet his to cheers.  You feel a jolt when your finger brushes his.

“But I must confess that I do have other engagements to attend to, so please forgive me.”

“No, no problem at all, I’m needing to get back to the office.  But see you around!”  You do a quick about-face and walk away quickly after that, giving no time for a response.

Once you made it down the street, your heart palpitations start to subside but now the self deprecation begins.  Why did you talk so much?  And the worst part, all that conversation and you’re left with more questions than answers.  Where in Africa is he from?  What did he do for a living?  Him telling you he had a prior engagement was your way in!  OR would that have been too nosy?  No phone number, or an attempt to get one.  Y’all were highkey vibing and you got no questions in to gage his status or if he was willing to see you somewhere else.  And the biggest sin:  What the hell is his damn name?!  Thomas was a fake name. But the conversation never led to the real one, or yours.  You can’t even look him up!  And who the hell knows when you’ll see him again, so good job.

You text your friend when you get back to your office.

Girl!  I ran into this fiiiiine man at the coffee shop.

A few minutes later she responds,  Yaaaass!  Did you talk to him?

Child, yes. I don’t know what got into me.

Well hopefully him in a minute.  What did you say to him?

Lol, I thought he was being racially profiled so I am really in his business but it turns out the coffee girl couldn’t understand him.  He’s kind of foreign.

Oooh, that foreign though??  Where he reppin?

Somewhere in Africa, I didn’t get a country.

The motherland?  Was he wearing them sandals and shit?

I didn’t even notice! I feel like I would’ve if he was but idk.

Well which country is he from?

Idk!  I know I shoulda asked but I was caught up, not thinking straight.  

Well, is he light skinned with good hair or nah?

Ok, now don’t ask it like that.  He not light skinned but his hair was beautifully trimmed.

Ok, so he probably right on the equator then.  Well look at you, tryna get you an African King lol did you get the number though?

Noooo, so I don’t even know if I’ll see him again girl.  I fucked up!

Lmaooo, GIRL!  Well, don’t worry about it.  One thing about coffee shops is that they get regulars often so you’ll probably run into again but don’t be obsessive…

Truuuuue, if it’s meant to be, it will be.  I don’t get obsessive though.

Girl, you already planning your future for a practically imaginary relationship, I know you! Lol  Keep it together and live your life, but this was good practice for you.

Yeah it was.  I never approach guys but this was exciting!

You put your phone down and finish up your afternoon reports.  But the thought of “Thomas”  was still in the back of your brain.  He was soooo cute to you, but with your track record he could’ve easily been gay, taken, or just being nice with no other intentions.  But the universe owed you a win.  It had been so damn long since you had a thing to go to your friends about.  

At the end of your shift, you go straight home, kicking your shoes off at the door.

“Hey Tavia!”  You yell to your friend who is cooking something you wish was your meal in the kitchen.  Smells like some chicken or spaghetti thing.

“Wassup Queen Mother!  I was going to get rose petals but they too damn expensive for a joke.”

“Right, don’t try it!”

You make your way to your room, closing the door and taking a much needed breath.  You kick off your pants and and shirt, swan diving onto your bed in your undergarments.  The stress of the day just melts as you lay there and breath in your lavender and peppermint scented air from your oil diffuser.   You slowly peel yourself up from your covers and load up your laptop.  Checking your social media and queueing up some music as usual, you look around your room.  It’s completely cluttered with clothes from the week piled in the corner.  Your hamper is overflowing, as well as your trash.  Suddenly, you feel a sense of purpose, cleaning and straightening your hoarding mess.  When your shuffle hit a bop, the clean up became especially fun as you sang along and shook that thang as you picked through dirty clothes and maybe-one-more-wear clothes.  

Now that you have some order to your area, you have space that you didn’t have before.  Looking around with pride, you catch your reflection in the mirror, draws and all.  You touch your stomach, tracing the dark brown stretch marks that crack through your skin around your concave belly button.  Pushing down on your love handles, you iron out the folds to be smoother from your waist to your hips.  Your breasts are of a decent size as far as the numbers game goes, but the do not sit perkily in front of you, and a cleavage still takes effort to achieve since they sit apart from each other.  Dreadfully, you turn sideways to check your body from the profile.  Your belly hangs in front of you instead of flat like you’ve always prayed for since childhood.  The deep fold from your back to your side sneers at you.  Your ass isn’t non-existent but if only your waist was smaller, that could make those hips and cheeks really pop.

You had been giving yourself mantra pep talks on a regular basis to keep toxic thoughts from entering your brain.  You look up at the notes lining your walls.  “Keep your head up.”  “You are a Warrior.”  “You are beautiful.”  You get it, people have told you the same things before, it’s just hard to convince yourself that you're not imagining things.  

Your mind still wanders on about your day.  When would you see something that fine again?  And if you do, the fuck are you going to do about it?  You start up your shuffle of bops and make your way to your closet.  You were going to curate some outfits to be a dick magnet.  No way in hell there’d be a question of his interest once you see him again.  Go over some lines in your head to break the ice, figure out how to touch his bicep in mid-conversation, shit like that.  It would work, he knows who you are...facially anyway.  You just gotta run into him again.

Next day, you make your way out the door a little early.  Making your way to the office, you get a head start on making your calls so you can make your way to the coffeeshop.  You put on a navy blue pencil skirt with a gold zipper going down the back.  You layered a mesh lace blouse over a black cami and black pumps.  You usually stick to flats but today was the first of many for change.  If it wasn't “Thomas” someone was gonna get a look at this new fit!  Opening the door, the bell jingles, announcing our arrival to the patrons.  You look cooly over the people in the shop, but no one was there you care to see.  Making your way up to the counter, you make your order and stand to wait.  You pull out your phone to mindlessly entertain yourself for a minute, looking p periodically to survey people entering.  Every jingle of the bell made your heart jump.  

“Order for Tom!”

You look up a little too quickly but are disappointed when some balding white men in cargo shorts picks up his order.  You have had enough, you almost walked out right then when your order gets called: the order, not your name.  Nearly out of breath from stress, you pick up your drink and leave in a rush.  Breathing in the outside air, your heart rate begins to slow in pace again but you have got to get back to work.  Fuck that shop, and fuck this mission.  You already missed your chance so what is the point of it all.  Going back home, you have a cloud over your head.  You throw your clothes over to a pile on the side and flop onto your bed.  You deserve happiness, you deserve love, but don't get wrapped up in fantasy.

You still go to the coffeeshop the next day, but that was for a snack because you didn’t give yourself time to fix yourself breakfast.  Still no Thomas.

You don’t go back to the shop the rest of the week, You can’t go broke over a crush, plus, you had really no other reason to go so, you stopped.

By next week, you feel a lot better about yourself and your blood pressure isn’t skyrocketing at the thought of entering the shop anymore.  You didn’t go in depth with Tavia about your problems since meeting Thomas because even if she gave the perfect encouraging friend response, you’d die of embarrassment for feeling so caught up on nada.  She was only slightly right:  you lowkey obsessed over that 5 minute interaction and broke down the details or what you did right and wrong.  It was terrible, and you knew it, so no need to be reminded.

You got an email about a happy hour promo at the shop, so you decide to go cash that in.  It’s a Wednesday and it's been an especially trying week.  You need to wash your hair, so you have them pulled back in in two struggle braids.   Simple cardigan over a white tank and black slacks with your trademark flats.  You pick up your order and sit on a nearby stool to catch the free wifi signal and download your favorite podcast to listen to back at the office.  

“Order for Thomas!”

You are unphased and not listening when you get up and see this 6’0 man picking up his drink and turning towards you.  He makes his way to the side table, and your heart literally stops pumping for a split second from the anxiety.  He hasn't seen you yet and he could easily leave very soon without your acknowledgment,  What if he doesn’t recognize you?  The L’s you could take outweigh the dubs by a mile.

You get up to go get an unnecessary sugar packet.

“Excuse me,” you say.

He looks to you and gives you a crooked smile.

*Part 2*

Other Works:

King Kil’mawalls

N’Jadaka’s Helpful Hands

T’akia

Commencement Day (Chadwick Boseman fic)

Some Weeks Are Better Than Others -- *Part 1* *Part 2* *Part 3* (M’BakuxReader fic)

[yutasbirthchin]

Hero - Epilogue

Group: Seventeen Member: Vernon Word Count: 2889 Genre: angst/fluff/tear jerking/idk

Prologue/Chapter1/Chapter2/Chapter3/Chapter4/Chapter5/Chapter6

a/n: Sorry it’s been like a month since the last update, I’ve had the worst case of writers block when it came to finishing this, I literally have like 4 other one shots brainstormed and half written that I wrote in the mean time because I really just couldn’t get this chapter right. But here it is finally! The last instalment! Thank y’all for sticking around and reading this whole story. Feel free to drop me an ask and share your opinions  :) 

“Here, Oppa, here! Isn’t it so pretty? It looks like it will serve the best coffee ever!”

Vernon’s eyes scanned the coffee shop. “It’s definitely…err…unique.”

“It’s unique, it stands out, that’s what all businesses should do, stand out from the crowd.”

“Can’t we just go to Starbucks?” He asked, really not trusting the pastel pink shop with ‘Sweet Treats’ printed along the top, it’s shop front decorated with hearts, polka dots and every other ‘cute’ thing under the sun.

“Is it so cute that it’s going to impede on your masculinity?” She fired back. “There’s nothing wrong with cute things.”

“I don’t have a problem with cute things, you’re cute and I tolerate you. But that shop… just for a coffee? I don’t know.”

She smiled. “Oh come on, I let you drag me into boring shops you want to go in. Besides, it’s our first time in America in ages, live a little.”

Before he could respond his she bounded into the shop. He looked longingly at the Starbucks across the road before following her in.

“Hello!” A very cheery man came rushing forward from behind the counter. “I’m Cole, thank you for visiting my lovely little abode, please have a seat.”

“I loooove your shop!” His companion squealed as he took a seat opposite her. “Who designed it?”

“That would be me, my father handed the shop down to me. He certainly was not pleased by my colour scheme or my decorating, he thinks it will drive customers away but I disagree. I mean, if it attracted a gorgeous girl such as yourself, it must be doing well!” He answered back with a wink. Vernon’s blood boiled as he stared at the shop manager, he was too flirtatious for his liking.

The two placed their orders and the man skipped behind the counter, presumably to start making their coffee.

“So where are you guys from?” Cole asked as he placed their drinks and food down.

“We’re from a little town in Korea.” The cute little girl answered. Cole glanced at the guy who didn’t seem to be in the brightest of moods.

“You’re a long way from home then, what brings you here?”

“We have family in America so we came to visit them, glad I did, there aren’t any gems like this where we live, right bro?” Vernon only nodded in response.

Cole laughed in response. “Thank you.” There was something oddly familiar about him, but the ringing of the bell signalling new customers dragged his thoughts away. “Give us a shout if you need anything.” He said with a wink before twisting on his heel.

Vernon couldn’t deny the coffee was good, and the pastries were the best he’d had in a long time. Sophia could tell this just by looking at him, she knew her brother well. “Still wanna go to Starbucks?” She teased.

“Oh shush.”

“This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”

“That saying is overused.”

She smiled as she put the phone down. She’d never mentioned to Vernon where exactly in America she had ended up, not because she didn’t want him to know but because she didn’t see the point, he wasn’t in America… Except now he was. She of course wanted to tell him, she wanted to be able to see him again, to hold him, but she was also scared. What if somehow he’d changed? What if she’d changed so much he didn’t like her anymore? There were so many possibilities. Now he was actually in America she felt bad. She knew he had come to visit relatives, not her, but the fact that he didn’t know where she was made her worry. America isn’t a small country, what if they happened to be on complete opposite sides and wouldn’t be able to even meet once? It would be too disappointing for her to handle.

She looked back at her half-finished essay and scowled. Back to work I guess.

The small cafe had suddenly become fairly busy around 1pm, with only a few empty tables and a queue forming at the counter. When it got this busy, Cole didn’t bother seating customers and taking their orders from the tables, he let them come up to the counter as it was more efficient that way. It did, however, mean that there had to be at least two people serving the counter, and so Youngjin sighed making her way out front. She didn’t mind the job, she actually enjoyed herself. Sure, since Cole had taken over the décor had changed to one she had a love hate relationship with, but the job was just the same and she earned a decent wage to get by whilst in college. What she didn’t like, though, were the times in which she had so much school work to do that she had to bring her laptop into work and write essays when she wasn’t busy. It was too stressful.

When the end of her shift finally came she sat behind her laptop, typing furiously.

“Babe, you know you can’t claim overtime just because you’re still here, right?” Cole joked.

“I know, I just have to finish this paragraph and then I’ll be off.”

“You got any plans tonight? Anything fun?” He asked.

“Yes I have a lovely little date planned with my laptop.” She replied and Cole chuckled.

“I could never be a student, don’t know how on earth you survive. I mean, you rarely ever go out and party and never leave anything last minute yet somehow you’re still always bogged down with work. You need to live a little, we’ve got to get you a boyfriend.”

“I’m always busier because I was dumb enough to take extra classes.” She answered and Cole shook his head.

“You’re really hung up on that guy, aren’t you?”

For the first time since the conversation started, Youngjin looked up from her laptop. “What do you mean?”

“You completely glossed over the last sentence I said, so either you zoned out or ignored it, and judging by your desktop image, I’d guess the latter.” Youngjin acknowledged what he said, but chose not to reply. “Who is he? Your ex? From Korea?” It was a simple answer but for some reason she felt oddly defensive, as though Cole was slowly cracking her open so he could judge her.

The last few years had been tough for her, it’s not easy to forget a past you so desperately want to forget when there’s an aspect of it that you keep so dear to your heart. Vernon. She loved him, she knew she did. And she hadn’t let him go, they still messaged each other almost everyday, but she found it hard to talk about him to other people because it dug up elements of her past that she didn’t want to dig up. People were nosey and wouldn’t be satisfied with a ‘he’s my best friend that I’ve known since we were children’, and she was terrified that she would accidentally let something slip.

After she still hadn’t replied Cole sighed, realising that he had probably overstepped a boundary. “Forget it, babe. I’m sorry.” He didn’t wait for a reply before heading out.

Youngjin sighed and forced the thoughts away, she needed to finish this paragraph before she lost her flow. She was intent on finishing her essay that night. Especially as she had to cover her coworkers shift the next day.

“Hello, hello, annyeonghaseyo.” Cole greeted Vernon and Sophia as they walked in the next morning.

“Good morning!” Sophia beamed. “How did you learn to pronounce that so well?” She asked, pleased that he had remembered they were Korean. Vernon couldn’t really fault him on his customer service.

“Ah, we have a Korean girl who works here and I bugged her until she taught me something. She only taught me hello though, so I can’t converse any further.” He replied.

“How can she only teach you one thing!?”

“She’s not the most talkative, keeps to herself a lot, to be honest I’m surprised she even taught me that.” Cole replied with a laugh. “She’s also almost always doing college work. But anyways, what would you two like this morning?”

When Cole came back with their orders he watched Vernon carefully, he really couldn’t work out what about him was familiar. Vernon, sensing the eyes on him, looked up and narrowed his eyes at the barista. “Why are you staring at me?”

Cole, obviously not realising he had been staring, felt embarrassed. “Oh! No, I uhh.. You just look familiar, really familiar and I don’t know why.” Vernon was confused, he definitely had not seen Cole before this trip and couldn’t think where he could possibly know him from.

“Leonardo DiCaprio! He looks like Leonardo DiCaprio!” Sophia burst out, causing her brother to hide his face in embarrassment.

“Sophia, please.” He whined but the other two just laughed.

“You really do look familiar though, are you sure you haven’t been around here before?”

Vernon shook his head. “No, I really haven-” he was cut off by the sound of the door opening and Cole exclaiming.

“Holy shit.”

“What?” The three other people in the cafe questioned.

Youngjin stared at Cole confused, waiting for an explanation but he stayed silent, not knowing what to say. He’d worked out why the boy looked so familiar, but didn’t know whether or not this would go well, considering Youngjin never wanted to talk about him.

Vernon, who was the only person who couldn’t see the girl who’d just entered, turned in his seat to see if he could work out what was going on. His eyes widened as they locked with those of his old friends.

“Youn- ah shit.” He said as he proceeded to drop his coffee, pouring it all over himself. This seemed to shatter the illusion and everyone jumped to help him clean himself up.

Cole watched the two as Youngjin mopped up the floor and Vernon attempted to clean himself up with the help of his sister. There was no denying that this was the guy pictured as Youngjin’s desktop image, but their interactions weren’t giving anything away. He sighed, deciding to dig; he might get an actual answer seeing as Vernon was there. “So, do I finally get to know what the story is with you two?” He prompted.

Vernon looked up at Cole, clearly confused. “How did you know we know each other?”

“Probably your dramatic scene.” Youngjin teased, gesturing to the area of the floor she had just finished mopping.

“Hey, it was an accident! Who said it had anything to do with you?”

“Wait, you two know each other? How?” Sophia asked.

“Well, if they don’t know each other, Youngjin definitely has some explaining to do. It’s not common to have random strangers as your desktop image.” Cole said and Youngjin’s cheeks immediately flushed.

Vernon looked at her, amused. “I’m your desktop image?”

“Cole! Why woul-”

“Did you miss me that much, Youngjin? So cute!” Vernon teased.

“I swear I could kil-” Youngjin started but stopped herself. “I’m not the one who tried searching for you for ten years because I missed you!” She shot back, and this time Vernon’s cheeks flushed.

“Ten years? Wait! Is this the same noona you had a crush on from elementary school?” Sophia asked, clearly not worried about embarrassing her older brother. Youngjin didn’t say anything, but looked at Vernon with an eyebrow raised.

As embarrassed as he was right now, Vernon wouldn’t change a thing… Well, maybe he would change the coffee stain down his shirt, but other than that he wouldn’t change a thing. He’d noticed a slight change in his best friend over the last two years, but this was the first time seeing the new confident, sassy Youngjin in person and he loved it. He turned to Cole. “We’ve been best friends for nearly thirteen years.”

“Friends, huh?” Cole questioned with an eyebrow raised. “How friendly are we talking?”

Youngjin chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Why ask if the answer is blatantly obvious?” She was about to continue when Sophia spoke instead, sending a cold chill down her spine.

“I thought her name was Younghee or something?”

Vernon watched the panic set in on his Noona’s face. “Younghee, Youngjin.” He said, surprising himself with how quickly and naturally the lie came. “I got the names confused.”

“Wow, you guys made it sound like you had some really cute hidden love story but it turns out he couldn’t even remember your name.” Cole laughed.

“In my defence I hadn’t seen her in ten years, and I was only seven when I last saw her.” Vernon replied.

“I’m sorry about Sophia.” Vernon said breaking their silence.

Youngjin rested her head on Vernon’s shoulder and looked out across the lake. “Thank you, you saved me back there.”

He reached for her hand, gripping it in his. “You shouldn’t worry yourself so much.”

“But that’s literally my biggest fear. If someone asks about me and I give too much away, or they get suspicions, or I can’t answer a question because I don’t want to give anything away, or-”

Vernon pulled back from her slightly, forcing her to sit up and look at him. “I think you’re doing more damage to yourself worrying about it than you would actually do if you just let it go and spoke freely. You don’t even really have to lie. Why can you speak so many languages? Because you had a lot of free time when you were younger and you got bored. Why did you have so much free time? Because your dad was really protective over you and didn’t trust the world… And because you dropped out of school after you dad died. How are you so good at martial arts? Your dad taught you. Why did you move to America? Because you wanted a fresh start and to get away from the bad memories you had in Korea. It’s really not as hard as you think it is.”

“But what if they ask me about Younghee or Ong?”

“There’s no reason for them to ask about that. Also, you’re in America, no one here would even know about that story. There’s nothing linking you to them.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re the link, what if they ask about you?”

“I’m your childhood friend, we’ve known each other for ages, et cetera et cetera.”

“Am I really just overthinking everything?”

“Yeah.” He replied, bringing his free hand up to her cheek and cupping it. “I get it, you just want to live your life and you’re worried about your past, but there’s literally no reason for anyone to probe so far that they find anything out. Stop letting your past rule your life.”

Youngjin stayed silent for a minute, staring off into space, but then she laughed to herself before meeting his eyes again. “I’m your Noona but why does it always feel like you’re the older one?”

“Jinnie I literally spilt my coffee all over me when I saw you.” He said with a laugh. “I can talk you out of your worries but I’m definitely no more mature or composed as you.”

She blushed at the nickname, hearing it for the first time in person. And then she surprised herself. “I love you, Vernon.”

Now it was his turn to blush, as she had well and truly caught him off guard. He couldn’t have controlled the smile that appeared on his face if he tried.

Vernon leant forward and pressed his lips against hers in a sweet gentle kiss. They both jumped at the loud bang and turned to look across the lake at the firework that had just interrupted them.

“And here I was thinking the whole firework thing was just an expression.” Youngjin joked. “Why are they even letting of fireworks? It’s not the 4th of July.”

Vernon watched the way the light from the fireworks shone against Youngjin’s face and smiled to himself. “I love you too.” He said, drawing her attention back to him before he kissed her again.

“Hey, Vernon?” Youngjin started as they pulled away.

“Yeah?”

“I really wish you didn’t have to go back to Korea.” She said, a slight frown playing on her features. Vernon smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as he turned to face the lake once again. Youngjin narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”

“You really love me that much, huh?” He teased.

“Oh come on, don’t tease me! I’m actually sad thinking about you leaving.”

“It’s only fair isn’t it? You left me twice.”

“I take it back, I don’t love you, I hate you.”

Vernon let out a loud laugh. “You can’t lie to me, Jinnie.” He laughed louder when he looked at the expression on her face. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

“Then how much longer are you here for, Vernon?”

“Well, Sophia and my parents are flying back next Sunday.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You aren’t going with them?”

He shook his head in response. “This was a goodbye trip.”

“What do you mean?”

“You dummy.” He laughed as he pressed a light kiss to her forehead. “I only brought a one way ticket.”

[farklelucas]

idk if this is a good prompt but itd be awrsome if you could write a briam roommates au

ur…. an Icon. thank u my anonymous friend. read this on ao3!!

send me prompts pls, any kind of prompts

“Nervous pacing isn’t going to help you, Liam.”

Liam spins to face Mason, who’s sitting on the bed, and glares. “You don’t get to talk, traitor,” he says. He’s half-kidding. Only half.

Predictably, Mason rolls his eyes. “Me moving in with my boyfriend is not betraying you. It’s me, moving in with my boyfriend to move further in a relationship. We have been over this, right? I wasn’t dreaming or something?”

They have been over it. A lot. But Liam is whiny. He flops down on the bed and sticks his head onto Mason’s lap. “But why do you need romance when you have friendship?” he asks innocently. Mason just stares at him. “Okay, fine. But what if my roommate is evil?”

“Your roommate will not be evil,” Mason says surely. “Corey’s foster brother knows his adopted mom.”

For a moment, Liam just blinks. Then he says, “Those were too many connections.”

Mason rolls his eyes again and shoves his head off of his thigh. Liam laughs. “Shut up. Look, I’ll tell you what. If you want, I can be here when he shows up to move in.”

Liam thinks about it. All of his life, he and Mason have been together - they grew up together, they went to school together, they went to college together. And now everything is moving in different ways. Mason is moving in with his boyfriend, they’re majoring in different things. Maybe it’s time he started growing up too.

“Nah, I’m good,” he says. Even if he’s not.

--

The room is dead silent. Mason has just left a few minutes ago, so Liam has just been staring at his wall and trying to do homework. He’s trying and failing. His English grade is slowly slipping by him, and he’s watching and letting it happen.

Suddenly, the locks in the door click. Liam jumps to his feet and grabs the bat sitting by the foot of his bed (making a mental note to send a thank you note to his uncle for the going away present). The door swings open and a man stands behind it.

He doesn’t look like a burglar or predator, though. He has suitcases at his feet, a key in the door, and a bored expression on his face. “Is that how you greet all your roommates, or…?” he says.

Liam, embarrassed, drops the bat back to its place and sighs. “You scared me, man,” he says. He shuffles forward and sticks out his hand. “You must be Brett. I’m Liam, nice to meet you.”

Brett wrinkles his brow but nods, shaking Liam’s hand. “Pleasure’s all mine,” he says. He looks at both beds and desks. “I’m assuming the stripped bare one is mine?” he asks. Liam just nods, so Brett drags his bags over and lays them down on top. Then he turns on his heel and says, “Nice seeing you,” and walks out the door.

Liam is immediately unsettled.

--

Brett is… weird.

Not weird like he keeps taxidermied animals in their room. Or like he’s in a cult. Or even like he talks in his sleep. (Although, those are the first things Mason asks when Liam tells him that Brett is weird.) He’s just odd. He keeps to himself most of the time, and when he does talk to Liam, half the time he’s snarky and rude and the other half he’s almost friendly. Corey says that Theo says that Satomi, Brett’s mom (and God, that is too many people to go through), says that Brett has no filter. He say exactly what he means and doesn’t feel the need to explain himself. So far, Liam has found this to be true.

When Liam is on the phone with Mason and complains about his grades, Brett says (unprompted), “Get a tutor.” When the pizza delivery guy comes to their room, Brett comments, “He was super hot. Like, porn level hot. Do we have pepperoni?” Liam puts on National Treasure and Brett remarks, “That is the dumbest movie on the planet.” Liam doesn’t honestly have any idea what to do with him.

It’s two weeks since Brett has moved in. He’s at a class, Liam thinks, but he can’t be sure since they don’t really talk about… much of anything. He has no idea of the guy’s schedule or even what he’s majoring in. Liam’s just returned from his own class to find the door locked, so he assumes that if Brett’s not at class, he’s out somewhere.

Meanwhile, his laptop crackles with noise. “Papi, I can see you fine,” he says. “You don’t need to adjust the camera.”

For two forty-year-olds, his fathers are inept when it comes to technology. They’re supposed to be at the head of the generation of technology, leading forward a new age of technological advancement. But no, he thinks, as he watches his father squint at the computer screen. Scott and Isaac McCall are like two old people stuck in two forty-year-old’s bodies. “Sorry, Liam,” he says with a frown. “Your Uncle Stiles set it up and I don’t know how to work the damn... darn thing.”

Isaac sits next to him, drinking out of his Number One Dad mug Liam got him and wearing a scarf even though it’s barely October. He scoffs. “First, he’s eighteen, I think you can swear around him now.” Then he turns his wide smile on Liam and Liam suddenly feels homesick. “Second, it’s so good to see you, darling. How are you? When does winter break start?”

Liam chuckles. Every time he’s on the phone with either one of them, one of their first questions is always ‘when can you come home?’ or some similar variation. He’s always been close to his dads and even being a state away, from Pennsylvania to New York, rocks the typically steady boat that is their relationship. “Early December,” he answers. “And I’m fine.”

Instantly, Scott’s dark eyebrows knit together. “You don’t sound fine,” he says. Besides being very close to him, or perhaps because of it, they are also very perceptive and nosy. Of course his dad picked up on something being off. “What’s up?”

Liam glances at the clock and then leans into the camera. “My roommate? He’s weird.”

His parents just blink at him. Then Scott says, “Like white people horror movie weird?”

“No,” Liam says. “Like, no filters and stand-offish weird.” If Brett were white people horror movie weird, Liam would have already requested for another roommate.

His parents look at each other and shrug. “Maybe you just don’t know each other well enough yet,” Isaac suggests.

Scott smiles and says, “Yeah, when I met your father, I thought he was a total brat.”

“I was,” Isaac says with a shrug.

“And I thought your Uncle Stiles was a pompous dick,” Scott continues.

Abruptly, Isaac snorts. “He is.”

Scott rolls his eyes, but, still smiling, keeps talking. “What I’m saying is, just give him a chance. He could surprise you.”

Liam shrugs, but what he doesn’t say is this: I have no delusions of Brett and I getting married or being best friends for life.

He chats with his parents for a little while more, then Scott remembers he has a shift at the veterinary clinic and they have to go. “Bye, Lilo,” Isaac coos. “We love you.”

His childhood nickname hits him like a punch to the gut, and he’s twice as homesick as before. “Love you too,” he mutters, grinning at them. The screen goes black and he shuts down his laptop with a happy sigh. His dads always manage to make him feel better, even if his roommate is… questionable.

He hears a snicker and then, “Lilo, huh?”

Whoops. He hadn’t even heard Brett enter. He slowly turns and bites his lip, his shoulders tense. Brett is sitting on his bed, eyebrows raised, his shoes and jacket already off, like he’s been there for a while. How did he not even notice? “How much did you hear?” he asks gingerly.

Brett smiles, one of the first one’s Liam’s seen from him, and shrugs. “Everything from me being ‘odd’ to ‘Lilo,’” he says, and Liam groans. How did I not hear him come in?! “Don’t worry, you won’t hear me if you don’t want me to,” Brett says, like he’s Sandu or something. What Liam wants to know if Brett really thought that was the way to say that without sounding like a serial killer. “I mean, I think it’s great you and your parents get along so well. I don’t even know mine.”

That makes Liam internal monologue of pure screaming pause. “What do you mean?” he asks, frowning. “Mason told me that his boyfriend’s foster brother knows your mom.”

Brett frowns. Then he says, “That’s a lot of words coming out of a small person at once.” A flash of anger flares through Liam at the size jab, but Brett keeps talking. “Yeah, Satomi is great and all, but she adopted me when I was, like, fifteen. She was the only person unwilling to split up me and my sister. Before that, I had no one. I’ll never know who my real parents are.”

For a moment, there’s silence. He can tell that Brett’s never really told someone that before, and he wants to reach into the air and pick it out and tear it to pieces. He looks like he regrets saying it, even though Liam’s really glad he said it, because Brett’s finally said something that Liam can tell was real. And then Liam can feel it: a fluttering in his chest, a clenching of his jaw, a tense swallow. He’s a nervous talker, got it from Uncle Stiles, and he’s never learned to keep things to himself. (He can still vividly remember when his uncle snuck him out to go camping, and Isaac and Scott were so mad at Stiles and Liam and it just made him nervous, so he just blurted, “I fell in a hole!” Stiles has never let him live that one down.)  “I was adopted too,” he says. Brett looks up, raising an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “Well, I mean, obviously,” Liam babbles. “Because I have two dads, but I went looking for my birth parents, reached out to the adoption agency and everything… They didn’t want to talk to me. Neither of them.” He shrugs, looking at the floor instead of Brett. He hasn’t even told Mason about that, and certainly not his dads. “My bio mom’s new husband emailed me, said it was really hard on her to give me up and she can’t face me. I have two half-sisters in California, Alicia and Alyssa. They’re cute kids.”

He finally puts a cork on the word vomit and looks up at Brett, whose eyes are unusually soft and mouth unusually shut. He just sadly smiles at Liam for a moment, then says, “Guess we’re both just a little bit messed up, huh?”

Liam snickers and replies, “Finally, we have something in common.”

Brett outright laughs at that, seemingly surprising the both of them. Then Brett grins, real and bright. “Wanna go get some pizza?” he asks, and Liam finds he would really like to get pizza.

--

As the year goes on, Liam’s beginning to find himself more and more comfortable around Brett. There is no problem as far as his personality goes - in fact, Liam thinks Brett is kind of funny. Liam laughs at Brett’s bluntness and Brett appreciates Liam’s underlying snark. It’s a great relationship.

The problem, now, is about Brett’s face, body and personality. It’s all unbearably attractive.

It’s not like Liam can’t handle it; he’s had unrequited crushes before. (Garrett, third grade; Theo, fifth grade; Josh, seventh grade.) But he’s just so handsome, to the point where it’s frustrating. When he quirks his eyebrows or smirks or even calls Liam a dumb ass, Liam wants to hit something. Even when he calls him “Lilo,” it’s cute. (And he does that a lot.)

He can tell Mason is beginning to get tired of him talking about it. “I’m getting tired of you talking about it,” Mason says one day, and that really tips him off. They’re sitting next to each other in the middle of the school quad; Corey is at work, and Brett is back home visiting Satomi and Lori, so they’re hanging out. And Liam may, or may not, have been talking about Brett’s tattoo. “Dude, you wanna bang your roommate, bang your roommate. At least then all the UST will go away.”

Liam wrinkles his nose. “What’s UST? Sounds like slang for a bladder infection.”

“That’s a U.T.I.,” Mason corrects, rolling his eyes. “UST is unresolved sexual tension. You and Brett have it by the bucketloads.”

He feels his cheeks go red. Damn his fair skin - it always gives him away. “We do not have… ‘UST,’” he says weakly. They don’t. Do they?

Mason stares for a moment. “You did not just do air quotes,” he mutters, then sighs and shakes his head. “You guys most definitely have tension. Liam, he calls you ‘Lilo.’ No one but your parents get to call you Lilo. And Brett knows that, and he loves it. And he wants to bang you.” Liam attempts to protest again, and then Mason cuts in. “I’ll tell you what. If we get through the rest of the year and you and Brett haven’t had sex at least once, I’ll give you fifty dollars. If you do have sex, you pay up.”

That sounds intriguing. Liam raises his eyebrows and asks, “You sure you don’t want to make it the next three years instead?”

“I’ll be surprised if you make it to next month,” Mason says. They shake on it.

--

There’s a persistent knocking on the door. It must be pretty early in the morning, since neither of them are awake for their morning classes yet. “You get it,” Liam groans. Apparently, Brett hears him from his bed, because Liam hears the squeaking of the mattress and then the door clicking open and the knocking stopping. “Oh,” says the voice. “I was hoping to talk to you and your roommate.”

Liam raises his head to see a girl looking at him, unimpressed, from the doorway. Then he looks over to Brett, who’s smirking at him, wearing boxers. Only boxers. Liam feels his dick twitch in his sweatpants, and thankfully he sleeps on his stomach. He groans and puts his head back down on the pillow. “Looks like it’s just me,” he hears Brett say flatly. “What do you want?”

She sounds sarcastic and annoyed, not at all like someone who should be banging on their door this early in the morning. “I’m Hayden Romero,” she says. “I’m head of the cotillion committee, and I’m also dating Tracy Stewart. I’m coming around taking a poll about the likelihood of you voting for her for class president.”

There’s a pause for a moment, and then Brett says, “Tracy? She’s in my gender studies class. Sure, I’d vote for her. And I could probably get Liam on board, since he doesn’t care.”

“Great,” Hayden says. There’s brief pause and then the door nearly slams shut.

Liam looks up at Brett, who’s frowning down at the paper in his hands. “Well, have a good day, I guess,” he mutters, and then looks to Liam. “We have a 25% off coupon for a couple’s ticket to the cotillion.”

He only heard half that sentence. “Put a shirt on,” he mutters, and Brett rolls his eyes but obliges.

Once the shirt is on, thank God, Liam gets out of bed and pads over, looking at the flyer. “Sucks that neither of us can use it.”

Brett snorts. “Or we can just go together.”

Liam whips his head around so fast that he thinks his neck nearly breaks. Brett’s eyes are wide, staring down at the paper, and he has the deep look of regret on his face that Liam saw a few months ago when they talked about their parents for the first time. “Um,” Liam says, because that’s all he can think to say. “What?”

“Nevermind,” Brett says quickly, and Liam thinks that it’s the first time he’s ever heard Brett try to retract something he’s said. “Let’s just get ready for class.”

He stands and walks to the door, already gone before Liam has the chance to reply.

--

Things begin to get weird after that. Not just because Mason is constantly making snide remarks about the two of them hooking up, but because it seems as if Brett’s holding himself back. A lot. Which is really strange, because as he’s been told time and time again, Brett has no filter - he never has and he never will. Which is why it’s weird to see Brett bite his lip, screw up his eyes, and shake his head.

Liam feels so stupid. When he dies, he wants Um, what? to be printed on his gravestone, just so that people will know that he’s a complete and total idiot who probably deserved whatever it was that he got. He has no idea what he was supposed to say to Brett potentially suggesting that they should go to the cotillion together, but he knows that almost anything else would have been better that Um, what? For instance - I’d like that. Do you mean it? It’s not that great of a coupon to be honest. Okay, maybe not the last one.

A few days before the cotillion, he sees Brett linger by the tickets stand. He wants so badly to ask if he wants to go - but what if he’s misread this whole thing? He’s heard from Corey (who heard from Theo who heard from Satomi, because yes, they still do that) that he’s had girlfriends before - but that could have been a phase? Or he’s bisexual? Liam doesn’t know what to do. So he does nothing.

When Brett finally walks away, Liam sighs and turns to find Mason staring at him. The seat next to him is empty, he assumes that Corey went to go get some Starbucks or something. Liam blinks, taking in the frown and the angry set of Mason’s eyebrows. “... What?” he asks.

“You’re an idiot,” Mason sighs, shaking his head and going back to his homework. “A total idiot.” Liam doesn’t have the heart to tell him that this is something he already knows.

--

The light dramatically shifts as Scott moves around the phone, trying to get both Isaac and himself in frame. “You wanna know what?” he asks, finally deciding to put it down on the kitchen table and have them look down at the phone. It’s an awkward angle, for sure, and Liam is positive that soon Isaac will have to amble off and get them both chairs to sit in, but for now it works.

Liam looks around one more time for his roommate, making sure, this time, that he’s not in the room. Then he turns back to Scott and Isaac, frowning. “I wanted to know how you guys were sure that you were into each other,” he says. “Like, I know Papi did the asking, but how did you… know?”

They both just stare at him blankly for a moment. Liam rolls his eyes. Then Isaac says, “Oh, you mean, like, gaydar?”

“Exactly,” Liam mutters. “Not the term I would use, per se, but yeah. Gaydar.”

His parents look at each other, frowning, and then they turn back. “You never really know until you ask,” Scott says, with a shrug. “It’s not like there’s some magical tell that LGBT people have.”

This is not what Liam wanted to hear. He watches as Scott takes off his glasses to clean them on his shirt and Isaac wanders off screen, presumably to get them chairs. He waits until Isaac is back in frame, both sitting, and asks, “So you just… ask? And hope you don’t get punched in the face?” Because that is a very real possibility here - getting punched in the face.

Scott laughs a little. “Well, I mean, I knew your dad wasn’t going to punch me in the face,” he says. “But yeah, I just kind of asked if he’d want to go out sometime. It was terrifying.”

“Not for me,” Isaac says casually. “I knew he was bi, and I was pretty sure he liked me, so I was just biding my time.”

Liam stares at his blurry picture on the screen, and Scott stares at him in real life. “You could have told me, you know,” Scott says.

Isaac grins. “What, and ruin the fun? Besides, how would I have worked it into a conversation - ‘hey, I’m Isaac, I like boys’?”

“Why didn’t you just ask him out?” Liam asks, because this seems like a very normal and rational question.

Isaac hums and says, “It was twenty-five years ago, so I’m a little blurry on it, but I’m pretty sure that your Uncle Stiles informed me that Scott had just recently had his heart broken by a pretty girl, so I should wait it out.”

Scott rolls his eyes and Isaac laughs. “I’m going to call Stiles,” he mutters, and turns back to the phone. “Anyway, why’d you ask, Lilo?”

Once again, Liam looks over his shoulder. No sign of Brett, which is good, the sneaky bastard. He looks back and says, “I kind of like my roommate.”

“The weird one?” they ask in unison, then look at each other. Then they look back to Liam and Scott says, “The odd one?”

“That’s the one,” Liam confirms. “We’ve been becoming friends and, I don’t know, I think he likes me back but I can’t tell for sure.”

They pause thoughtfully for a moment. “My advice is just ask,” Scott reiterates. “You’ll never know if he likes you until you ask.”

“Of course he’ll like you,” Isaac fusses. “Who couldn’t love that face?”

Liam rolls his eyes. “I have to go,” he says. “Love you, Dad. Love you, Papi.”

“Love you, Lilo,” they chime, again in unison, and the screen goes dark.

He turns around, like he’ll find Brett sitting on his bed or creeping in the shadows or lurking in the doorway. None of this is true.

--

It’s the night of the cotillion. Every ticket is sold out, and the coupon is ripped up and in the trash. It’s been a long year, and the end of the school year is only a few weeks away.

Liam’s lounging on his bed when the door clicks open, and Brett enters, throwing himself down on his own bed. “Today blows,” he mutters, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments before sitting up and beginning to take off his boots.

“You okay?” Liam asks, sitting up and putting his homework on the table beside him.

Brett shrugs. “I’m fine,” he says. “Just annoyed, I guess. All everyone was talking about today was the cotillion.” He looks up at Liam, bites his lip, shakes his head, and looks away. “We’re, like, the only people not going.”

And there it goes again, that weird thing. The lip-head-eyes thing he does when he’s holding back. He wants so badly to know what Brett wants to say, and then he feels it - nervous flutter, tensed jaw, swallow. And he can’t stop the word vomit before it’s all coming out in a rush. “Brett, do you like boys?”

Brett looks up, his eyes wide and his eyebrows furrowed deeper than the first time they met. “Uh,” he says. “What?”

Liam takes a deep breath and says it again, because he can hear Scott’s voice in his head, saying over and over: Just ask. “Do you like boys?” He asks slower this time, in case Brett didn’t hear him the first time.

He expects a ‘no’ or a ‘shut up’ or a punch in the face. He doesn’t get any of those things. Brett frowns and tilts his head, looking more curious than angry or upset. “Why?” he asks.

“Uh,” Liam says, and shakes himself. He won’t go with what? this time. Not again. “Well, I really, uh, like you. A lot. And I was just - when you said we should go to the cotillion together, did you mean it? Because I would’ve said yes. If you meant it.”

Brett just stares at him for a long moment. And then a smile, a true and big grin, breaks out over his beautiful, beautiful face, and Liam is taken aback. “I meant it,” Brett says, nodding. “Every word.”

Slowly, Liam feels his own face begin to smile. “Cool,” he says, because apparently he’s used his intelligent word quota for the day.

They both look over to the trashcan, where the bright pink piece of paper Hayden had handed to Brett lays crumpled up under some scrap paper and what Liam assumes is a wad of gum. “Shame we never bought those tickets,” Brett says.

“We would’ve had fun,” Liam admits.

Then Brett looks at him, the same furrow in his brow and smile on his lips. Liam’s just about to ask what he’s thinking when Brett says, “Do you trust me?” After a moment, Liam nods. “Great.” Brett stands abruptly and goes into his closet. He pulls out a big, clunky radio, and smiles at Liam. “Follow me,” he says. Liam doesn’t even hesitate.

--

They walk to the big hall in which the cotillion is being held, only a few blocks away from their dorm building, and Brett comes to a stop. Then he plugs in the radio and puts on whatever station he has on preset, slow and sensual jazz music coming from it. Then Brett turns to him and smiles. “Dance with me, Lilo?” he asks.

Liam, meanwhile, is too stunned to do much of anything. He looks from Brett to his bare socks to the radio to his own tattered pajamas. “What a romantic,” he says, instead of anything that could be misconstrued as real feelings. “Do you do this with all the boys?”

“No,” Brett admits, “but I did see it on a Saved by the Bell episode.” He shakes his hands, which are poised for Liam to dance with him. Liam rolls his eyes and laughs, but comes forward into Brett’s arms all the same.

They dance for a while, holding each other at a distance and looking into each other’s eyes, and Liam counts the colors of Brett’s eyes. But eventually the tension melts, and Liam tucks his head onto Brett’s chest and Brett holds him tighter. “Do you feel stupid to know that we could have been like this for months?” Liam mutters. “Because I do.”

“Imagine how useful this would have been in winter. Body warmth.” Liam laughs and pulls in tighter.

Eventually the clock in the quad strikes, and it’s eleven o’clock - half an hour until campus curfew. The dance would be ending in a few minutes. Liam sighs and pulls back. “We should go back,” he says. “It’s late.”

Brett nods and heads over to the radio, wrapping up the cord. When he’s done, he picks it up and moves to begin the walk home. Then he pauses and looks over his shoulder at Liam, saying, “You know what? I’m glad we didn’t go. Tonight was perfect.”

Liam smiles broadly, and, in some move of stupidity and braveness, strides forward and cups Brett’s face in his own. His lips are soft and supple, and his stubble scratches against Liam’s chin. “There,” he says. “Now it’s perfect.” Brett grins.

--

A few weeks later, after end of the year exams are finally over, Liam and Mason go to lunch. They’ve barely sat down and ordered before Mason begins speaking. “Well, I don’t know how you managed to avoid it,” he says. “But you did. I owe you, man. I really thought you and Brett would have caved by now. I mean, I would have - have you seen him?”

Liam sighs and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out his wallet and puts two twentys and a ten down on the table.

For a minute, there’s complete and total silence. Mason, for once in his life, is speechless. Then Liam asks, “I don’t have to pay you fifty dollars for how each time we had sex, right?”

Mason looks up, sharply, his eyes wide and unblinking.

“I don’t think I have that kind of money,” Liam says. Mason nearly falls out of his chair.

[hellacluttered]

Strays (Chapter 1) [Boarding School AU]

A/N: idk where I’m going with this or anything lol, this is just for fun. Hopefully you guys like it. :) Also... I will either make a better cover image later or start not using one because this really doesn’t fit at all, but oh well :P

    “Sure you’re in the right place?”

    Manuel looked irritably back over his shoulder at the open door, his brows drawing together, his shoulders stiffening confrontationally. Coming through the door was a tall, brawny boy, a large Nike duffel bag in one hand and a backpack over his shoulder. His mocking tone was echoed in the smirk on his lips and he walked through the door with easy confidence, tossing his bags on the bunk opposite Manuel’s. “What makes you say that, cabrón?”

    “You gonna try and clock me if I tell you?”

    Manuel frowned, trying to repress the anger flaring in his chest. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” he said dispassionately, turning back to his bunk, where he was folding the jumbled clothes he had dumped out of his worn leather suitcase whose ancient latch was all but destroyed.

    “You’re Vasquez?”

    He nodded. “You’re Faraday?”

    “Yeah.”

    “We’re off to a great start,” Manuel muttered under his breath and Joshua asked,

    “What was that?”

    “Never mind,” Manuel said, reaching for his earbuds and pointedly ending the conversation as he slipped them into his ears.

    “Suit yourself,” he heard Joshua’s voice come faintly through his music.

    Joshua set a speaker on his desk and synced his phone, turning on a raucous rock album he’d recently bought before unzipping his duffel bag and getting to work unpacking.

    “Hey, Faraday!” he turned to see Manuel positively glowering at him. The other boy waved his phone in the air, holding up the wire of his earbuds.

    “Oh, sorry,” Joshua said with no real regret and turned his back on Manuel again, turning down the volume of his speaker just a few notches, which made no real difference, before getting back to work.

    The two continued at their tasks for a few minutes before Joshua began to sing along, revealing that he was shamelessly tone-deaf, and his additions to the music, which began as some out-of-time humming with the ends of phrases, quickly swelled to full-blown singing along, his volume increasing rapidly, and finally Manuel stood, yanking out his earbuds and tossing them on the bed before stalking across the room and grabbing Joshua by the shoulder, turning him around with a lot more force than was necessary. Taken by surprise, Joshua stumbled, struggling to regain his balance, his eyes flashing with surprise and anger. Manuel was just taking a deep breath to let loose a tirade when there came a knock on the doorframe and Joshua looked toward it, his cocky, ready-to-fight expression quickly replaced by a real smile, his broad shoulders relaxing. His hand, which still held his phone, quickly paused his music and he stepped away from Manuel, who finally looked over to see who had arrived.

    “Sam!” Faraday said, grabbing the hand of the boy at the door in a rough handshake before pulling him into a half-embrace.

    “What’s up, Josh?”

    “Just, you know, meeting my new roommate and all. Think he might be lost, but-”

    Manuel started forward, that was it, this boy needed a black eye- but Sam stepped easily between them, hands held up, palms out, in a placating gesture. “Hey now, no need to fight today.”

    “Yeah, get settled in first and then do it,” another voice said and Manuel’s gaze shifted past Sam to see another student in the hall, this one with a playful smile on his face, thick blond hair slightly rumpled, his lean frame almost totally enveloped by Joshua’s immediate embrace.

    “How’ve you been, Goody?” Joshua asked enthusiastically.

    “Not bad. And yourself?”

    “So far, so good,” Joshua replied, finally releasing the other student.

    “Who’s this?” Goodnight asked, passing Sam to meet Manuel.

    “Manuel Vasquez, isn’t it?” Sam said. “Manuel, this is Goodnight Robicheaux.”

    “Er, hi,” Manuel said as he shook Goodnight’s outstretched hand. “But how’d you know who I am?” he asked.

    “Couldn’t be the name on the door, could it?” Joshua remarked and Sam said,

    “Shut up a minute, Josh,” before turning back to Manuel. “You’re new here, so I’m gonna help you fit in, meet people, learn where things are. Also, I pirty whoever gets stuck with Joshua, so I’m happy to help if I can.”

    Manuel couldn’t stop his chuckle at Joshua’s affronted expression. “Thanks.”

    “Sure thing. I’m down the hall, last door on the right. If you need anything, let me know.”

    “Will do.”

    “Try not to be too much of a pain in the ass,” Sam said to Joshua as he left the room again but his tone was playful and Joshua just grumbled something under his breath in response.

    “So, which one of you is gonna kill the other in his sleep?” Goodnight asked cheerfully.

    “Well, I’d like to, but I worked too hard to get here, so…” Vasquez trailed off. “What?” he asked Joshua, who was staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

    “He didn’t work to get here, did you, Josh?” Goodnight said.

    “‘Course I did!” Joshua said and turned away abruptly, opening the top drawer of his dresser and beginning to stuff his clothes in in no particular order.

    “His family’s got connections,” Goodnight explained to Manuel.

    “Mind your own business, Goody,” Joshua said, and this time there was nothing playful in his tone, just plain irritation.

    “All right, all right. Well, I’ll leave you two to it then,” Goodnight said. “Nice to meet you, Manuel.”

   “You too,” Manuel replied. Goodnight left, closing the door behind him again. Manuel watched Joshua for a few moments longer but the other boy didn’t speak and Manuel shrugged and got back to organizing his belongings.

    “Poor Manuel,” Goodnight said as he entered Sam’s room without knocking, leaving the door open behind him.

    Sam chuckled. “Yeah. I feel bad for the guy. Who’s your roommate this year?”

    “Billy Rocks. He’s been around here forever I guess, but I’ve never talked to him. We’ll see how it goes. How about you?”

    “I asked not to have one and I guess the high-ups are feeling merciful for once.”

    “It might be that our class doesn’t have an even number of people,” Goodnight said.

    “Didn’t we last year?” Sam said. “No one left, did they?”

    “You didn’t hear the news?” Goodnight asked and Sam shook his head. “Matt Cullen left. Issues at home or something like that.”

    “Ahh,” Sam said, nodding slowly. “Have you talked to Emma?”

    “Yeah, she’s all right,” Goodnight said, looking out the window at the girls’ school across the street. “She says they’ll stay in touch and stuff.”

    “That’s good,” Sam said. “Well… Guess I’ll see you around, Goody. I gotta work on this essay for U of Georgia.”

    Goodnight cringed. “Have fun with that. Guess I’ll go meet this Billy guy.”

    Sam nodded, settling down at his desk with his laptop. “See you later.”

   “Later.”