#SORRY BOUT LATE POST I MEANT TO POST BEFORE CLASS

[dragondingus]

‪33 of 365: Naptime.

[professionalsimpfor2dboys]

“Scenting” Obey Me Fluff (slightly sexual)

All demon brothers x Female! MC

Introduction: when in Devildom, MC always knew demons were very different from her human self but she never knew they did something called “scenting” until some random demons did it to her, ensuing a very possessive & peeved off demon brothers

MC sat at her desk as she normally would but quieter than usual, compared to her other classes she’d be surrounded by her demons but this was the only class that she had none of them in. Sighing out of boredom, she hunched over her desk as she waited for the bell to ring but was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. She looked up to meet black eyes that belonged to one of the many demon classmates she had grown used to ignoring.

“Hah! I told you! She finally noticed me!” He cheered cockily at his friends that stood alongside him, each very different from the other. “Jeez, I almost gave up on getting your attention, human,” he winked flirtatiously, which MC just blinked at in an oblivious manner.

“Hey! Just because she noticed you first doesn’t mean she doesn’t see the rest of us either!” The shorter out the bunch yelled out defensively.

“Ah, sorry...? I never realized anyone was trying to get my attention. Could I help you with something?” She questioned, holding a finger to her chin. After multiple lectures from Lucifer and the others but mostly Lucifer she had grown accustomed to not conversing with other demons since she was told they wanted nothing but to eat or hurt her and what idiot was not gonna take that warning? It surprised her that they seemed overall harmless, other than a common spark in the eyes of each of the demons in front of her.

“W-well, it’s not necessarily something you can help with...” a particularly shy-looking demon stepped forward, his black hair covered his eyes like a curtain which he nervously patted at. “W-we have a slight, ahem, fascination with h-humans...particularly y-you,” he trailed off as a taller demon slung an arm around his shoulders.

“Quit beating around the bush! We like you, human! You’re pretty cute!” Said demon announced, winking then continuing to give the shy boy a noogie.

A melodious giggle to their ears erupted from her throat at the slight blushing faces of her previously unknown classmates in front of her. “I’m flattered! I didn’t think I met up to demons’ preferences,” she laughed. MC was happy to be conversing with others for once, not being isolated to just the seven brothers felt as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders which she hadn’t noticed before and the fact that they found her cute was all the better.

“Nah! Attractive up there is still attractive down here! All we really prefer is that our horns don’t get caught up with each other when kissing and since you don’t have any it’s all the better!” The first demon replied cheerily, patting at her head to get the point across as she laughed. “Not to mention, since you’re human, you have a different type of beauty ‘bout you that we’re not too used to,” he continued, boldly leaning close and tipping her chin upward with a finger.

It was MC’s turn to blush. As her cheeks dusted with a slight pink tone, she couldn’t help but giggle at her classmates’ antics. “You guys are a funny bunch. I like y’all!” she commented happily, smiling at the four demons in front of her. It felt strange to not feel afraid of anyone other than her particular seven demons but not in a negative way. Inside she hoped that this would start a domino effect of others wanting to try striking up a conversation with her, the thought made her feel warm inside. The four stepped back in surprise at her revelation, whilst blushing at her cute smile they all shared a look with one another.

“D-do you mind if we, um, s-scent you...” the shy demon stuttered out as he twiddled his fingers nervously, fearing her reply to such an intimate request. Seeing her head cocked to the side, he quickly tried to explain himself. “A-Ah! We don’t want to fully scent you! Just one rub to show our interest in you is all! We would never fully scent without an established relationship! It’s just to show that we’re trying to court you is all! Y-you don’t even have to accept!” He rambled, jumping forward out of how frazzled he was which revealed his two gold eyes from underneath the curtain of pitch black hair.

“Sorry to interrupt, but what is ‘scenting’ exactly?” She questioned, confused at what it was and why there were different types. Realizing she didn’t know what it meant, the shy demon’s legs gave out from embarrassment as the taller demon caught him, his outbursts seemed to be normal to them.

“Oh, right! You’re human so you don’t know!” The shortest realized, putting his fist in to his other hand. “Hmm, long story short it’s what demons do to show our interest in someone,” he shrugged simply, but a sly glint in his eye as well as the smirk that lifted his lips said something else, which MC didn’t quite catch. “Here! I’ll show ya!” He continued before dipped down and nuzzling his neck against hers just once before pulling away with a satsifactory grin as he inhaled.

“Hey, you’re leaving some things out-“ the black-eyed demon spoke up before the shortest cut him off.

“You don’t mind it, right? It’s completely harmless!” He shrugged, holding his hands up and shaking his head innocently. The other three waited quietly in anticipation.

“I-I guess,” MC nodded which four smiled triumphantly at. The black-eyed demon didn’t waste time in following the prior demon’s actions but with a warmer smile before the taller did the same, a flirtatious lift to his lips. That left only the shy demon to scoot hesitantly close before rubbing his neck against hers. Once. Twice. Before being pulled away by the other three.

“Hey! What are ya trying to do? Don’t be going overboard with the scenting, dumbass!” The tallest reprimanded, holding him by the back of his collar.

“I-I’m sorry! I got carried away! I wasn’t going to do anything more! Promise!” He wailed as the three pulled him out the classroom just as the bell rang, not forgetting to wave at her as they left.

“Strange. I wonder what the brothers will have to say.” She thought to herself.

-

Disappointed but not surprised that the brothers each had plans after school, she walked home alone that day. One would think at least one would stay behind for her safety, but she felt that they were beginning to get too used to having her around and often forgot she was human, which was nice she was so included and familiar to them but annoying nonetheless when she didn’t get to see anyone until dinner. Beel and Satan had after school activities, which she understood as well as Lucifer having his own duties to Lord Diavolo but the other four’s excuses were ridiculous to her. Mammon texted her to inform that he was going to be trying to break into Diavolo’s office at school with the full intent to steal any valuables in there, Levi had shut himself in at some newly opened Internet cafe and refused to even do his online classes there, Belphie had disappeared somewhere most likely in a strange spot sleeping, and Asmo was completely focused on waiting in line at a popular cake store since morning just for what he called the “perfect Devilgram post”.

By the time she had gotten home she had completely forgotten about the whole “scenting” thing and decided to take a shower. She had just gotten out when she heard hurried footsteps leading to her door. Acting quickly, she ran to the door and locked it before anyone could enter and see her in all her naked glory. This was met with a deep “oof” as the person hit the door, expecting it to open, and followed it with loud knocks when it didn’t.

“Oi! Why’s the door locked? Who ya got in there? I can smell ‘em!” Mammon’s voice berated as he incessantly banged at the door, awaiting his human’s answer. He stopped briefly to press his nose against the crack of the locked door as he deeply inhaled to pinpoint the foreign scent before starting back up again. “Oiiii! Who’s scent is that? That ain’t any of my brothers or mine!” He yelled.

“Yeah, because it’s mine! I just got out the shower! Are you a bloodhound or somethin’? Am I not allowed to lock the door or would ya rather see me naked?” She yelled back, annoyed at his questions. Obviously she’s going to smell like her body fragrance after coming out the shower, what kind of question is that?

Blushing at her remark, he stopped knocking but still cocked his head to the side out of confusion. He knew her scent so why did it smell different? Shaking his head, he brushed it off as a new body lotion or something among those lines. “I’ve told ya! Demons have got a stronger sense of smell than ya humans! Anyways, I’m on dinner duty and it’ll be done in thirty minutes so I expect ya down here right when it’s done! The Great Mammon’s food shouldn’t be kept waiting, alright?” He stated.

“Yeah, yeah! I’ll be down there when I’m ready to!” She answered angrily, his questioning from earlier and the fact that he abandoned her to try breaking into Diavolo’s office instead taking play.

-

She took her time after that, knowing fully well that dinner was ready and the others were sat waiting for their beloved human that they neglected all day to come down and eat with them. By the time she came down, they had all been seated and Beel was already on his fifth plate which didn’t take him long mind you.

“Ah, better late than never, I suppose,” Lucifer commented teasingly, noting her damp hair as her excuse.

“Hurry up and eat before Beel devours it all!” Mammon ushered at the seat in front of him, he usually sat beside her but the twins had beat him to it since there was only one seat she preferred to sit at.

Taking her usual seat, she began to eat but it wasn’t long before a faint but definitely there foreign scent emanated from her. Reaching Belphie first while Beel was too busy stuffing his face with food. It roused him from his short slumber he decided to take at the dinner table, as he inched forward towards his human’s neck. She jumped when she felt his nose pressed against her nape as he inhaled and pulled away with a disgruntled look on his face.

“Why do you smell like that?” Belphie sneered. At this point, the smell had reached Beel as well and he promptly stopped his feasting to investigate. He followed Belphie’s actions but on the opposite side, deeply inhaling before quickly pulling away with furrowed eyebrows.

“Yeah...you smell like someone else,” Beel growled, surprising her at the tone of his voice. The smell wafted towards the other brothers as well and it wasn’t long before they were all on their feet, surrounding her with quizzical expressions while each taking turns of two to sniff at her exposed neck as she sat red-faced at the attention. She knew she was a bit petty from being neglected earlier but she didn’t expect this much attention at once!

“I knew I smelt something-someone earlier!” Mammon said as he angrily took another whiff, which only peeved him off more.

“How strange,” Satan hummed, a smile on his face that she knew masked his anger all too well. The brothers tried to rack their brains from what the scent could be from before Levi suddenly gasped.

“S-she’s been scented!” He revealed before dipping down yet again to smell. “And by, what seems like, multiple demons!” He continued, an angry flush against his cheeks. All the brothers looked at each other before returning their attention back to MC, who sat looking dazed in her chair.

“Now, now, lets give her space,” Lucifer commanded, waving his hand for his brothers to step away. “Care for an explanation, darling?” He questioned, the glint in his eye and slight furrow of his forehead outing his subdued anger as he felt a crack in his pride that some lowly demon, multiple in fact, had scented his human and she allowed it. He held a threatening but gentle hand on her shoulder as she tried her best to rack her brain to recall why she would smell like someone else. A lightbulb lighting up in her brain when she finally recalled.

“Ah! I talked to four classmates of mine for the first time and they mentioned something about ‘scenting’, I didn’t really understand it and next thing I knew they were doing it so that’s probably why!” She explained, looking up at the brothers with innocent eyes that made their hearts squeeze. So, she didn’t know.

“And what did they tell you about it exactly?” Lucifer questioned further.

“Hmm, they said demons do it to show their interest in someone? Something about courting?” She replied.

“Aw, my poor darling! Taken advantage like that!” Asmo cooed as he threw his arms around her.

“O-oh, did they lie?” She asked sheepishly.

“More like gave ya half-truths!” Mammon answered as he ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner. “Satan, explain,” he sighed, waving his hand.

“Well, while what they said was true it was very vague and not all of it. Scenting is when a demon claims one as their own, it’s territorial and tells other demons to back off or else there’s gonna be...problems,” Satan explained in a matter-of-fact manner.

“They mentioned something about not ‘fully’ scenting. What’s that?” She asked.

“Ah, if they did that we’d have their heads,” he chuckled out evilly before resuming his explanation calmly which made her shiver. “Fully scenting is when demons claim one as their mate. It creates a tether between them more romantically intimate than a pact and is stronger smelling than normal scenting. The one who was scented on can also release distress signals when in danger and it’ll alert the other demon almost right away,” he ended.

“A-Ah, so there was more to it,” she laughed weakly, realizing how dumb she was before.

“Hm, yes. Well, it seems that we’ll have to further stake our claim on our human here. Luckily we’re powerful demons, so we can easily break this mediocre scenting,” Lucifer stated before pressing his lips against her neck and harshly sucking, causing a gasp to leak out her lips. He pulled away and smirked at the bright hickey that bloomed on her neck as well as the fading scent that was on her.

“I agree,” Mammon monotoned as he did the same, finding her sweet spot almost instantly as he suckled and kissed on it to leave a deep bruise. “How dare they put their disgusting scent on my human?” He growled against her. She covered her mouth to muffle her voice, but Levi pulled them away.

“I don’t think so,” he tsked, nibbling at her jaw and smirking against her as she gasped at the feeling of his bite on her skin.

“We’ll be covering you with these,” Satan spoke against her, dipping to her clavicle to leave yet another hickey as he circled his tongue around it.

“We’ll put it in places you can’t cover and make it so dark no makeup could make a dent!” Asmo giggled mischievously as he aimed for where her jugular was, causing her to shiver.

Beel licked his lips at the sight of her as he took it upon himself to bite new territory, which was her shoulders. “This is better than when I wanted to eat you when we first met,” he mumbled lowly, lapping at the bite marks he left on her to soothe them.

“Ah, hardly any room for me,” Belphie muttered before taking a bite at the top of her chest, her jumping up as a reaction making him smile smugly.

Oh, how was she was going to avoid prying eyes at school tomorrow?

I’m a whore for scenting so I wanted to give it a go! I think ima make this a series since they didn’t fully scent on her just yet & will probs make a part for each of my bois, Mammon being first of course! Oh and I’m definitely gonna make them smutty because duh probably start off being some fluffy cute cuddles & then progress to absolute ravaging ;) interested?

Oh and what do y’all think of the demons I made up for this story? I kinda like their personalities & antics together idk 🤷���‍♀️

[saladejin]

Beyond Breathless | Jungkook

(cr.) Jungkook x Reader | first aider in training!au, childcare worker!Jungkook | s2f2l (not quite there), fluff and crack, awkwardness & touching, confident/bold reader

Summary: One class is all it takes for Jungkook to finally realise that yes, maybe there is someone out there who can put up with his timorous tendencies. Now, if he pays attention, he might just learn how to breathe again.

Warnings: None, shy sub kookie (he’s a mess y’all), and suggestive themes if you really squint

Word Count: 2.9k 

<< masterlist

A/N: Ok so this was part of my cuddle prompts game for August 2020, but it turned into a one-shot so I decided to post it accordingly. Also this is a really bizarre take on ‘cuddle’, but it’s there all the same. The prompt was 24.) between strangers. 

Took me FOREVER to write and edit because so much was going on, with Dynamite dropping and all these streaming/chart records being broken etc. but anyway I’m just in time to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUNGKOOK & CONGRATS BTS FOR GETTING THE #1 ON BILLBOARD’S HOT 100 💜💜

@vinterjeon​ this is for you wifey 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵  

Jungkook was trying his best to stop tripping over his own damn tongue, but the pretty receptionist kept on asking him questions. Wasn't it easy to tell he was already kind of shitting bricks over here?

"The class began five minutes ago Sir, you shouldn't have missed too much," she said finally, handing the fidgeting man his papers with a smile.

Okay, let me go in then?

Jungkook nibbled at his bottom lip in apprehension when the woman continued to type something on her computer, nails dragging loudly across the keys as if to torture him further for his tardiness.

"I've notified Mr. Lee. Have a great class, Sir."

At the receptionist's gesture towards the nearby glass door, Jungkook immediately jerked into action. He muttered out a small 'thanks' with a bow and tried to take a deep breath, hating the fact that he would now hog every scrap of attention for being late to the class. It wasn't his fault traffic was bad!

Try as he might, slipping into the room silently was impossible when the door itself creaked loud enough for the neighbouring buildings to hear. Jungkook stifled a wince and took in the scene before him with wide apologetic eyes. 

"Jeon! Glad that you could join us." Mr. Lee grinned, the easy-going nature of the teacher easing Jungkook's nerves ever so slightly. With a shy bow, he entered the small room and could only count six other participants milling around the empty space.

The teacher clapped his hands together, causing a few of the other attendees to jump in their skin. "Alright, I think we can officially begin."

You shifted from foot to foot, eyeing the newcomer with interest. Jeon? Was that his last name? You had to admit he was quite handsome, but also you couldn't help feeling bad for the guy. He was clearly a blushing mess of humiliation for being late, even if it was only a mere five minutes. You couldn't see any of the other attendees being all that bothered, but as you all lined up in front of the stout teacher, you could almost feel the nerves radiating off the man's body from where he stood beside you.

"Welcome, everyone, to our First Aid Course specialising in providing emergency first aid responses in an education and care setting."

As Mr. Lee reeled off his spiel in that commanding tone of his, you gradually sensed the young man next to you beginning to relax.

~

Half an hour in, the class had gone over the process of CPR briefly - or as Lee would call it, cardiopulmonary resuscitation - and had even taken turns in performing the procedure on a nightmarish looking mannequin. Jungkook had no idea why some manufacturers decided to paint genuine human features on some of them, but in the end he supposed it added to the whole realistic element of the course.

"Hey there, you alright?" a sweet voice piped up from somewhere in front of him.

Jungkook's form went rigid as he darted his eyes away from where someone was being instructed, flooding with even more confused self-consciousness when he drank in the sight of you. You hadn't meant to intimidate him further, but the way he was so intently focused on the teacher and student currently practising CPR on the dummy had you worried.

"Me? Uh, sorry yeah I'm fine thank you," Jungkook stumbled out, a hand instinctively coming up to rub at his neck which was reddening the longer he maintained eye contact with you. He didn't know how he hadn't noticed you before, but then he remembered how he tended to lose the ability to concentrate in general whenever he was embarrassed or nervous.

You returned his shaky smile warmly. "You just seem a little tensed up. Are you scared of Mr. Lee or something?" Whispering out the last part, you revelled in the sight of his smile widening.

He let out a quiet laugh and shook his head. "No, I just really need to pass this course. Don't want to miss anything, you know?"

You nodded but had no time to respond.

"Okay!" Lee boomed, gaining everyone's attention instantly. "You've all shown your proficiency at this. Now we're moving on to the next part of the course. Since you're all going to be specialising with children and students once you're finished here, we need to thoroughly cover choking, airway obstructions and respiratory distress since they're quite frequent in childcare settings."

You caught Jeon nodding solemnly out of the corner of your eye, and wondered why he was taking this course in particular. Teacher maybe? He mentioned really needing to pass, so maybe he even worked with young kindergarteners or infants. Eyeing his well-built frame contained within a tight black t-shirt had your mind working a million miles a minute. It was oddly endearing to imagine this moderately tall, buff looking guy caring for kids with such gentle shy eyes, and such a soft-spoken voice.

"Pair up with each-other and I'll demonstrate the choking procedure on adults first of all," Mr. Lee instructed, his bright passionate eyes flashing with amusement as he crossed his arms and waited for his students to spur themselves into action.

Jungkook's eyes met with yours almost immediately, and he had to avert them again out of sheer bashfulness. He only tried to seek you out because he hadn't spoken to anyone else yet, and the way you were chuckling softly at his bout of eagerness had his lips quirking up into a shy smirk. Well, that was decided then.

"You, be my guinea pig for a bit."

It took Jungkook a moment to process that the teacher was beckoning him forward with a sturdy finger, but you were already on the ball and pressing a hand into his lower back before his mind could catch up. Hating the feeling of being watched by everyone else, he tried to ignore the way he shuddered at the combination of your subtle touch and the several pairs of eyes regarding him closely.

The teacher began his explanation, but Jungkook could only hear the rushing of blood past his ears at this point. Why him? Out of everyone here, Mr. Lee couldn't have chosen anyone else? Thinking back, he did remember that being late probably served to single himself out in the teacher's mind. He deserved to be picked on.

Suddenly, Lee's stocky hand was pressing itself into Jungkook's chest, and he only then thought to finally tune in with what the older man was saying.

"Then, bend the choking person over slightly. Preferably parallel to the ground, but as long as they're somewhat sturdy on their feet..."

Jungkook swallowed nervously as the teacher demonstrated by adding pressure to the space between his wide shoulder blades. As embarrassed as he was, it was relieving to see the rest of the students focused on the information rather than him. Some were even practising the manoeuvre already. His eyes instinctively flew to where you were standing on your own, and a sharp tingle travelled the length of his spine when he caught you appraising him with ... interest flashing in your eyes?

W-why?

You watched as the teacher proceeded to explain how to perform a back blow, though not putting his full strength into the heel of his hand in case he hurt his student. "Do this five times, and if the choking hazard isn't removed, we can move on to the Heimlich manoeuvre - otherwise known as abdominal thrusts."

Oho?

You couldn't even suppress the way your lips pursed in amusement, and some of the other attendees around you even exchanged knowing looks with one another, trying not to chuckle at the sight of Jeon's ears flashing a bright red colour in embarrassment. God, he'd never wanted to die so badly.

Luckily, Lee spared him the mortification by keeping his demonstration to limited physical contact. He gave instruction on how to stand behind the victim before wrapping your arms around their torso - to which he only created a circle with his arms around Jungkook - and making a fist shape with your hand, thrusting it upwards into the victim's stomach to hopefully dislodge the object from their airways.

Jungkook couldn't really form a coherent thought at the moment. He was too fixated on the way your eyes were watching the whole scene intently, and he felt so exposed but he also wasn't entirely hating it. Well, maybe only if he could forget there were other people in the room, that is.

His brain on autopilot, Jungkook barely registered his feet taking him back to his original position after the teacher had finished up his demonstration. You were facing him as soon as he got there, and he shoved away the tingles in his belly to cock his head in confusion.

"Well?" you spoke, open palms coming up to urge him into action, but he didn't know what for. He whipped his head around and scoured the room to see the other pairs re-enacting their own version of the choking procedure.

"You want me to...?" he trailed off, hands fumbling in the air awkwardly as he tried to pull the words seemingly from thin air. You hid your smile with the back if your hand, not wanting to embarrass him further by laughing in his cute little face. How someone so big and masculine looking could be so shy and sweet, you'd never know.

"Yeah. Literally just the same as what he did to you." You helped the struggling man with a reassuring nod, not missing the way he was still hesitant to make any kind of movement.

Jungkook wanted to kick himself. "Sorry, I don't think I remember exactly," he sighed out, waiting for you to roll your eyes and click your tongue in annoyance. Instead, you threw him right off guard by reaching out and gently turning him around on the spot by his broad shoulder.

"It's okay, I watched what he did."

Fuck, what?

The hairs on Jungkook's neck stood on end when he heard your footsteps drawing closer behind him against the linoleum flooring of the room, but when he tried to crane his neck around to see what you were doing, you simply chuckled and straightened his jaw forward with a firm dainty hand. His breath hitched when your fingers then lingered ... eventually trailing down to lightly press against the column of his throat.

"What are you doing?" He jerked away, heart thumping against his ribcage so hard he thought he'd faint right there. Your brows only furrowed together in shock.

"Checking your throat to see where the blockage is? It was literally the first step."

You saw the way his eyes fell almost instantly, the internal berating quite evidently written on his features. "Sorry, it's my fault for not paying attention before," he mumbled and bowed his head in apology.

"It's okay. Just turn around," you snorted, thoroughly entertained. He was seriously too adorable to match the way he looked, but you supposed judging books by their covers was an outdated practice in this day and age.

Following the steps, you performed the back blow after pressing down on his shoulders to lean him forwards slightly. His muscles felt so taught underneath your hand, and you really had to battle the urge to just forget the exercise and run your hands down the expanse of his clothed back. Something told you he wouldn't protest, either.

Jungkook didn't know how to feel. His wide doe eyes fixed themselves on your hand that was splayed out on his chest, only serving to steady yourself, and he couldn't help but let his mind wander. When the heel of your other hand came down in between his shoulder blades, he physically lurched. Not because of the force, there was no way you could match him in strength, but it shocked him enough in its suddenness that a tiny grunt fell from his lips.

"Excellent form, (Y/n)!" Mr. Lee spoke up from the other side of the room. Jungkook came back to his senses and straightened his position, briefly catching your beaming smile from the teacher's praise. He just hoped to dear God you hadn't heard his pitiful whimper at your touch.

At least I have a name now.

"Okay, are you doing the Heimlich or am I?" You then turned to him, and he swallowed thickly yet again. This one he did remember a little more vividly, but envisioning standing behind you and pressing his fist into your stomach made his hands tremble slightly. He couldn't do that! What if he hurt you?

"Um, you can." He cleared his throat and gestured to you in a manner he hoped came across as confident. You saw right through him anyway, but the man was still cute, so you let it slide. As much as you longed to tease him, you were still basically nothing more than a stranger right now. Even you knew when some lines shouldn't be crossed.

Your lips curved in amusement and you motioned for him to turn around. "Okay then, I'll try not to make it too painful."

"Don't worry, I can handle-" Jungkook's sudden show of cockiness vanished as soon as your arms wrapped around his small waist. Were you ... pressing yourself to his back? He couldn't remember the teacher going that far, but here you were with a friendly smile and mischievous eyes, shaping your body to his in a way that had his breathing pattern suddenly sharp and shallow.

"Bend over a little," you directed, trying not to laugh at how you could see the tips of his ears burning a bright crimson underneath the black tresses of hair brushing just above them.

Jungkook almost shuddered at the sensation, but fought the urge in order to comply with what you were asking. It wasn't long before you were surprising him yet again by bringing your hands together into the Heimlich fist and flat palm formation, arms comfortably settled around him and fingers brushing just above his navel as you prepared to squeeze.

Amidst his inner panic, you were enjoying this immensely. It wasn't an everyday occurrence to be able to plaster yourself to someone so attractive, and so downright eager to please. You knew it was meant to be strictly professional for educational purposes and such, but the way this guy was responding to you was undeniably exciting. You'd tiptoed the line that shouldn't be crossed carefully, and he only seemed to be liking it more and more.

Considering the way his palms were sweating profusely at the close contact, he knew he was a goner.

With a quick word of warning, you performed the abdominal thrust as gently as you could while still making sure it was firm enough to lift him slightly off his feet. The sudden show of strength stunned him, but he wasn't about to let it show. He'd already made a fool of himself one too many times today as it stood.

"Easy enough." You chuckled, letting the man go quickly so he could regain control of his senses somewhat. He leaned away, but to your surprise didn't move to exit your personal bubble. In all honesty, he had no desire to part from you at all.

You inwardly cursed at yourself for flushing at the thought and raised your hands in invitation. "Did you want to try on me?"

"Ah, no it's alright. I think I have it all now." He flashed a small smile, tapping one index finger to his temple in emphasis. His reluctance confused you, but judging from his largely bashful demeanour, he most likely never planned to make any moves to touch you in the first place. It was forward of you to take the lead, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't in your nature.

There's always next time anyway...

"That's a wrap for this week's class!" Lee's bellowing voice snapped you both out of your thoughts, and you had to blink away the embarrassment from all the shameless staring.

"Hey what's your name by the way, I don't think I caught it before." You tried to save grace with a polite, yet awkward handshake. Jungkook only felt his heart grow warmer at the thoughtful gesture.

"It's Jungkook. Sorry I should've said sooner, before you had to punch the shit out of my back."

That tore a laugh from you, and soon enough all the tension in the air had melted away. "It wasn't that hard, c'mon."

His smile, which you now adored after catching a glimpse of his bunny-like teeth, had quickly become one of your favourite things to look at. "I swear you were this close to beating me up," he joked, feeling more alive than ever.

Jungkook collected his bag from beside the door and filed out into the administration area alongside everyone else. He took a moment to eye the receptionist from earlier, wondering what might have happened if she'd told him he was unable to attend the class after all. Watching you walk away from him with a tiny wave of farewell had him resolutely believing it was fate that brought him here.

He just couldn't wait for next week.

Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.  

[shintorikhazumi]

Honey

A/N: Clearly, based on Kehlani’s song. Also, One, I did not try to learn the song on guitar just for this fic… Two, this may or may not be an advertisement to the Pole Dancing! AU I’m planning once I’ve completed A Warm Diana. That pole dancing au is completely separate from that one-shot I released, “Dance For Me.”, though it’s possible that a chapter may be named as such. Been a while since I did a songfic so… woot. The events here probably won’t happen in the final AU tho, but the world details are shared~. Not as much pole dancing as the last, sorry

Dedicated to @kagarikhylev, thank you! I said last, last weekend but I got swamped by college starting up again, all the LWA reposts to ao3 since I’m behind, and just generally… being distracted by a lot of things, so deepest apologies.

This fic may or may not be good. I am screwed because I have a 7am quiz and it’s 9:48pm, and I did not study a thing. Priorities, amiright? My concentration is busted.

Also. Diana is an idiot.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

 Honey

“I like my girls just like I like my honey, sweet

A little selfish…”

She walks through the halls, following the echoing of unfamiliar lyrics against the empty corridor. The clock ticks just that bit closer to five in the afternoon, and the east wing is relatively empty, save for the presence of a voice carrying that pleasant tune, and words that pique her interest. At the moment, she should be on her usual search for her friend who has been avoiding her like a pandemic these past few days, but her body is keen on taking a detour, her ears the leader that guides her whole way. Eventually, she finds herself standing in front of the sliding door to one of the dance course’s practice rooms. She expects that to be here, seeing as the music programs featuring vocal and instrumental courses held their classes on the opposite side of the large building, according to the map posted down the hall.

What she isn’t expecting is the singing present in the air. Because why would singing come from here? From a dance major?

While singing might not be solely reserved for the ones actually studying it, it is a rarity for occasions such as this to happen in a school that had students ready to ridicule anyone not up to par with their personal standard of skill. This holds especially true for those majoring in classical music as they often have their heads lifted high, considering their genre to be ‘superior’ to the rest.

So, she understands why theater children stick to theater, why dance majors stick to moving their bodies to the beat, and why people aiming to get into Philharmonic- much like her- only stick to performing and doing what they do best, in-and-out of class hours.

Here, in this institution, resides a slightly toxic, competitive atmosphere that forces you to give your all for your craft, and not insult others by dabbling in their own specialties half-heartedly. There is no encouragement, there is no beautiful rivalry.

Or at least, that’s what she’s known since entering both vocal and instrumental programs. As a flutist, in particular, there remains quite a bit of competition for seats in their prestigious school’s main touring orchestra, so auditions that may as well be full-blown battles were common. The dance majors always look so friendly from afar, though; maybe they are different.

And maybe that’s why they remain the school’s outcasts.

Breathing out her thoughts into a puff of air to clear her mind, she peeks through the small window of the room’s door. Her eyes widen in surprise, but pink lips tip into a fond smile as she spots a familiar tuft of brunette hair in that signature hairstyle she knew all too well. The one she’s been looking for.

‘What a treat.’

She leans heavier on the glass, pressing her ear against the door, believing it might allow her to hear this secret serenade better.

“I like my women like I like my money, green

A little jealous-“

In the light of the late afternoon sun, the singer is enchanting, magical. Reflected through ocean blues, she always has been. Ever since they first met. But something’s changed. There is a different kind of blossoming taking place in the musician’s heart. She doesn’t understand it. But she wants to. However, she wants to understand it with that particular girl- singing with abandon on the floor, antique guitar in her lap- by her side, but being avoided doesn’t make her need any easier to satisfy.

She doesn’t understand it at all. Why she can’t solve it on her own. She doesn’t understand why she’d being avoided either.

Hums ease the creases that have subconsciously formed on her forehead, the gentle voice tickling her ears pleasantly. It eases a weight off her soul, and she relishes in the ambience of the present hour.

She would have loved to listen for much longer had she not accidentally placed her full weight on the door at the wrong angle, sliding it open with a very audible screech. And the next thing she knows, she’s falling forward, and the floor comes up, about to give her a kiss she won’t forget, and it’s not the one she would have preferred.

But no, that should not happen. If her moniker of ‘Miss Perfect’ was anything to go by, she is sure she can do anything. Including catching herself against the now stuck door, leaving her bent in an awkward posture, face hovering inches off the floor. The sudden chain of actions has her heart jump up to her throat, all the calm air in her lungs stolen by shock. She remains in an awkward position for a while longer, gathering her bearings, and thankful she didn’t injure herself with what had just occurred. The room’s occupant is just as surprised as she is, apparently.

Shaking away her initial wide-eyed expression and donning an appreciative smile, she poses a casual statement, trying to brush off the awkward situation as she stands up to her full height, brushing imaginary dust off her jacket at the same time.

“I didn’t know you could play the guitar.”

There’s a curious pause, wine-red eyes stunned at the brash intrusion to her solo afternoon world. The perpetrator feels her toes clench in nerves, hidden behind closed shoes. She’s hoping her companion wouldn’t just… stare. She’s certain those eyes have a million questions running amok in her pretty little head, but she is beginning to feel the heat rising its steady course up her face, and is unsure she could handle this atmospheric pressure any longer.

By some deity’s saving grace, there’s a blink to reboot the mind of those same questioning eyes, the room’s initial occupant finally managing a response. “It’s a little hobby… I almost didn’t hear you come in.” Stood by the door, the newcomer wonders if that was meant to be a joking or a literal statement.

“And you never said you could sing.”

“I don’t.” The guitar is kept to the side, in a place hidden from the immediate view of anyone casually visiting the room. “I dance, is what I do.”

“I know.”  The flutist replies as casually as she strives to look in these strange moments; she hopes to keep the conversation flowing, to keep the person in front of her from leaving her side again. “I watch you.”

“Of course, you do.”

  //-//-//-//-//

She wonders what the song is all week. It replays over and over in her head in class. It haunts her dreams at night, and plagues her in the waking hours. She even unconsciously hums it while doing her homework in the library. This leaves her friend, Hannah, wide-eyed.

And she appears to be wide-eyed as well.

“Diana!” Is the harsh whisper in her ear. She doesn’t like the feeling of hot air there, but her astonishment at the fact that this song has now consumed her renders her the tiniest bit numb.

“What.” Diana replies just as quiet, but softer in delivery.

“Why are you singing that?” The brunette queries, voice no longer a whisper, and away from Diana’s ear, but low enough to not be overheard by anyone else in the vicinity. She doesn’t look mad, nor is she upset. Diana takes note of this. She’s merely… very, very befuddled.

“Is something the matter? I think I like the tune.”

“…”

“Hannah?”

“Do you really not know what that song is about?” Is the bewildered reply. “I mean… I know you aren’t that straight, m’lady…or at all…” The last part, she whispers under her breath. “but… like… I didn’t think you would expose yourself like this?”

With the faintest flush on her cheeks, Diana responds in confusion. “What are you saying? Am I not supposed to like this song?”

The shorter girl is taken aback slightly. “N-no, you can like… it. Just… your voice professor would have a heart attack if she hears you sing that and knows the song, so let’s not. Okay? Not in public, at least. Especially with your status.” She huffs, then whips her head back up, recalling something. “Don’t play it on you flute either. I see Barbara wasn’t lying when she freaked out earlier at lunch telling me about this.”

“I still fail to understand the problem?” Diana states, impatient as her foot taps on the wooden floorboards.

“Of course. Because you’re dense.” Is the offensive reply she gets. Before she can retort, or pose further question, Hannah takes her by the hand, clearing up all their stuff single-handedly with the other, showcasing surprising efficiency; and she drags her friend right out of the area.

As they turn into a relatively empty hall, the heiress’ hand is released, and she walks side-by-side with her friend who releases a snort that is succeeded by a fit of giggles that are quickly replaced with bouts of laughter. The brunette bends over, hitting her knees, tears at the corners of her eyes.

“Diana, you utter idiot.”

“Wha-“

All too quickly, the laughs dissipate and a serious Hannah slaps her hand on Diana’s shoulders in a firm grip.

“I would have hoped you’d look up the lyrics if you recalled them, but then again, you’re hopeless with technology. Or if you only heard the tune… well, I guess that’s understandable too.” The brunette patted her cheek fondly.

“It’s called Honey.” And Hannah finally tells her the title she’s been seeking; feeling grateful she hugs her friend.

“Wh-what’s happening?! Will I die tomorrow?”

“You overreact.” Diana rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“Don’t listen to it too much that you become addicted. Don’t want to catch you at the head of even more rumors than you already are.” Her shorter friend teases, picking up the materials she dropped earlier as she made a grab at Diana. “I’m serious.”

“Do you doubt my self-control?”

“After meeting her, what I do doubt is if you have much left.”

Diana splutters, chasing after the fleeing imp sticking her tongue out at her.

She’ll get back at her.

Hannah is rarely right over her, after all.

  //-//-//-//-//

Hannah is right, after all.

Immediately after reaching her room, Diana had looked it up; her barely cooperating fingers carefully typing in five simple letters… that soon became nine with a space between the previous ones and new ones as she clearly knows that she’s not looking to view videos of bees and liquid gold in glass jars.

And after the first click, she’s defeated. She listens to it over and over.

And over.

And over.

And over again.

//-//-//-//-//

[“'Cause I'm a beautiful wreck

A colorful mess, but I'm funny”]

The video plays on her phone for the thirtieth time that day. Considering that it is barely noon, with classes in between this time and the moment she woke up, that’s probably a lot of repeats. It isn’t unhealthy yet. Right?

And she likes the song. It plays well in the background as she does her homework. She’s too distracted for the lyrics to register properly in her mind anyway.

So a woman was singing about her companion who she seemed to be very loyal to. Just as Diana was to her new best friend. The singer also appeared to be bragging about their charm… and their preferences on women’s attitudes? Or visuals? Did this person like green-skinned ladies?? Who happened to be jealous and tasted sweet? Diana always thought the skin had a more… salty flavor to it.

Maybe she should ask what her new friend, Akko, thinks about this. She has been slowly sharing bits and pieces of her world to the unknowing prodigy, and she always likes hearing the brunette’s opinion on various subjects. Akko’s opinion.

Ah, yes. Akko. Right.

And Diana goes back to that afternoon with Akko and the guitar. The catalyst for this strange addiction to Honey. Not the food, she added to herself. The song.

The song, yes, now entering the thirty-first cycle. As the words came to play with the dancing melodies, Diana muses that the lyrics certainly suit the girl who had introduced this wonderful song to her.

[“'Cause I'm a beautiful wreck

A colorful mess, but I'm funny”]

And she reaches this part once more, still thinking of the one named Kagari Atsuko. The dance major, and her newest best friend. Friend. Yes, that’s what her other friends had said. She's been spending far too much time; sparing too much attention on her… friend, so they were a little lonely.

She digresses.

Anyway. Akko. Yes. She may not be much of a wreck– scratch that, maybe she was. Diana chuckles. Nevertheless, as the lyrics preach over and over, she was a beautiful one. Incredibly so.

She is all the vivid colors of the world, incredibly funny. Diana is not one for comedy, but Akko pulls laughs out of her with fabulous ease.

She closes her eyes, seeing that loveable face blinding her with the brightness of the sun, encompassing her with its warmth, and inspiring her each day. What an amazing friend.

As blues are revealed to the world behind the fluttering of thick lashes, she takes in the vast rehearsal room designed for the practices and assessments of the dance majors for ballroom. It houses a piano and a few of the larger percussion instruments for the live accompaniment of collaborating music majors. It also serves as the general area of practice for when the school would prepare for their showcases and events. Or well, this room used to be all of that. Now, it simply remains as a spare practice and storage room.

After the students had fallen into an unfixable dispute due to their hardheadedness towards their differences, collaborations seldom happen. When they do occur, they are looked down upon by the rest of the body. It was a shameful ordeal, supposedly.

It is a shame, Diana agrees. That they would sacrifice the beauty of performance for pride.

Only the people who come to utilize all this free space clean it before and after using. That is rare as well. Anyone who reserves this room becomes the target of rumors to want to unify a broken crowd.

And nobody wants that. That’s what the populace says.

The poor unused floorboards, the scarcely maintained instruments and tools… and here she sits at the aforementioned sad piano, lid sliding open, fingers splaying across ivory keys. She punches a note. And another, and the tune that has been imprisoned in her mind- or has it imprisoned her mind- is now escaping into the air, into the theme that fills her senses. She first tests it out with just the melody on one hand, but then her left comes to join in the only dance she really knows how to do.

This moment is hers alone. No one can come to break it.

Hannah can’t complain if she goes against her advice and performs the song for no one anyway.

A beautiful song for a beautiful no one.

She caresses it like a ballad, hands deftly sweeping over the keys, light and gentle.

Piano used to be her first love. Her mother loved it more. After she passed, Diana had lost many competitions, and she was forbidden from touching one ever again.

Only in secret could she stroke her lover’s keys, that beautiful ivory, that shimmering black. Only in secret could she kiss the melodies with all her affection, press down with the right pressure to allow the instrument to voice its beautiful moan of music.

Only in secret would could she play this song on repeat; only in secret could she play it herself; only in secret could she think on the lyrics well; only in secret would she link every syllable to one girl.

Only in secret could she wish she were here.

Only in secret could she realize and admit,

“I love you… Akko…”

--

A clanging sound, loud, metallic.

There’s a pole rolling on the floor, and the sound of shuffling, a figure scrambling to gather her belongings now scattered everywhere.

“…Akko.”

“Diana. Hi.” Rubies flit about, landing temporarily on anything not Diana. “You… were practicing… a thing?” Her voice is choked, its timbre pitched higher than the usual. “I guess I should leave you-“

“NO!” She doesn’t mean to yell, but her desperation has the better of her. She only has so little time to stop the girl from escaping her again. “S-stay. I… I mean… stay? Please stay? Please Stay.” She says the same words in different ways and tones, unsure. “Don’t… leave me.”

A nod is the only movement the frozen body can manage. There’s this stillness between them before Diana pushes out words from her frenzied mind.

“C-come here?” She pats the bench beside her awkwardly, not knowing if her invitation was a welcome one. She breathes a sigh of relief when Akko places her things to the side, neatly against the wall before walking up to her, standing by the bench, staring at the hand still covering the seat.

She hesitates.

“Sit?”

She does. She leaves a hand’s-width of space between them.

And it’s a painful silence.

One Diana tries to break.

“Hi.” She seeks her eyes.

“Hi.” They don’t seek hers. “What did you call me here for?” Akko asks nervously, feet shuffling against the floor.

Think fast, Diana. Anything to make her stay longer.

And it’s only honey on her mind once more. Her saving grace. “C-Could you sing that song for me once more?” Akko looks like she’s having difficulty recalling. “The one I walked in on...”

Akko bites her lip nervously as she contemplates that, and Dear mother of Cavendish Diana finds that so attractive.

“I don’t… think I know what you’re talking about.” The dancer plays dumb.

But Diana wants her plan of… whatever she’s trying to do… to work. So, her mind, as helpful as it is, hides the memory of the title she’s replayed over and over. She tries to tell her the song anyway. As best she can.

“It’s… it’s the one about loyal friendship.”

“F-friendship?” If Akko had been playing dumb earlier, she no longer was. She doesn’t recall singing a song about friendship…

“And the singer boasting of their charm… and their… preferences for women, I suppose? Or maybe it’s not friendship. Companionship? Partnership? The one where… something about jealousy and sweetness and colors, and flying- and dear Beatrix, I deeply apologize for my incompetence, Akko…” Diana covers her face in a shame that’s burning the blonde alive.

Silence.

“Pffft- what the hell Diana, ahahahaha.” Akko finally loosens all that tension she imposes on Diana, relenting. Diana was just too irresistible. Knocking lightly against the music major’s head, she makes known the song’s name once more. “It’s called Honey.”

She doesn’t understand this sudden change in mood, in mind, but Diana now has the opportunity to play it cool, her plan of keeping Akko there, having Akko want to stay there is working. So despite not understanding, she welcomes this in comparison with the cold she’s received as of late.

“O-Oh? I didn’t know that.” But of course, Diana does. Clearly.

“Well, you do suck at using your phone. And your laptop. And the internet.”

“Akko!”

And there’s that pretty pink flush on her face once more, annoying her.

“Fine.” Akko says.

“Huh?”

“I’ll sing it.”

“Y-you will?!” Diana finds herself standing excitedly, hands clutching Akko’s.

“Wow, you really must want to hear that song.”

“I… I’ve been a little curious…”

Akko smiles that gorgeous, honest smile. “I can see that.” She gets up as well, facing Diana, but then remembering something. “Ah! But… what time is it… I was supposed to be practicing for the show at the bar later, and I have class in-” The time read two pm, on the dot. “Shit, I only have an hour, and I have to leave for my job right after the lesson…”

That explains the pole she had with her.

It was no secret to Diana that Akko had gone to school here at Luna Nova against her parents wishes. Akko also worked a night job, pole dancing in secret. It was- is her passion. Not to entice people into desiring her body, by any means, but to tell a story of grace, honor, sensuality, and honesty through her dance.

And the medium Akko chooses is the pole.

“Oh, I know!” The brunette interrupts her reverie. “How ‘bout you play the song again, and I’ll practice to it. The music I was going to use has roughly the same tempo, I think.”

“…are you going to sing while dancing?” Diana speaks to the retreating back that moves to prepare her set-up, Akko loosening a secret portion of wood on the floor away to reveal a hole that would snuggly hold her practice pole in place.

“Eh, why not?” She shrugs, nonchalantly and Diana is amazed by her as always. “Two birds with one pole, or something.”

“Stone.”

“Same thing.”

Finishing her little stage, Akko smiles in triumph, chucking her jacket and jogging pants to the side without a care. Not even for Diana who pries her eyes away from toned muscle.

“Ready when you are.”

Diana isn’t, but she plays for Akko’s sake anyway. Her hands traverse the keys on instinct, eyes on the slender figure that begins its preliminary moves in grace and desire.

Red meets blue and the show starts.

  “I like my girls just like I like my honey, sweet~

A little selfish”

It’s a simple twirl about the pole, with a wink thrown in, but Diana thinks it’s the most spectacular motion already.

“I like my women like I like my money, green

A little jealous”

And there’s the pleasant laugh she adores.

“'Cause I'm a beautiful wreck

A colorful mess, but I'm funny”

Akko sings in that strong voice, as she runs her hands through her hair, shaking the strands loose as she prances around the metal shaft before clutching onto it, allowing herself to fly through the air. By the next line, she’s sliding down painfully slow, body pressed against the reflective equipment in the room, eyes locked with Diana’s. A hand clutches the thin fabric barely covering her chest, the other reaching out to pull Diana in, only strong legs keeping her up.

“Oh, I'm a heartbreak vet

With a stone-cold neck, yeah, I'm charmin'”

‘You truly are…’ Diana says to herself, her heart starting to physically hurt with the desire to touch, and to hold in her arms. That smile shot at her was simply unfair.

“All the pretty girls in the world

But I'm in this space with you”

For a second, Diana feels as though Akko were speaking these words to her for real. That idea makes it that much tighter in her chest. There was no way. That Akko finds her appealing like that, that she would choose to stay with Diana here… Diana… hadn’t forced her to do this little thing they were having at the moment, right?

“Colored out the lines

I came to find, my fire was fate with you”

‘Fate…’ Her sight turns bleary, but she doesn’t understand why. Warmth traces after the wetness that rolls down one cheek. And that hand surprises her, cupping her cheek, prompting her to look up into emotional pools of red that are very, very close. Their proximity is far too close. “Wha-“ When had Akko…

“Heartache would stay with you

Fly great escapes with you, oh…”

-are the murmured lyrics, breaths ragged puffs of air brushing against her parted lips. A hand rested over her own that had now crumpled the cloth of her shirt over her chest, fist gripped tightly.

“You… stopped…hah… playing… Diana.” Akko gets out, breathing uneven the sudden change of her moving body to its stationary state.

Ah. She has. Her other hand is simply resting on the keys, motionless. She feels kind of bad now, to have cut Akko’s practice performance short; but she can’t even work a reply out. Her lips tremble, facial muscles feel wobbly.

“Hmm… that’s no good. I can’t complete your request without your help.” Akko muses, taking a deep breath of air as she pulls away from the shaken heiress. Index finger of her free hand tapping against her cheek, her eyes lit up in realization. “I know!”

“H-huh…?”

“Diana.” At the call of her name, she offers her attention. “Come dance with me.”

“W-wait, I can’t-“

But it’s too late for that, and she’s easily dragged by the overwhelming force of Akko’s strength built from the foundation of dancing and every other physical activity she must have done to mold her body into the shape that it is now. Striking, alluring, lean, and every bit the exquisite art that Diana sees it as.

And now said art presses against her back, pushing her against the cold metal Akko clings on to on a regular basis. Hands guide her own to grasp the bar, and soon they slowly spin. A soft voice hums into her ear, those sounds turning into the lyrics she’s far past memorizing now.

They are engraved in her very heart.

“I countdown to the clock, saw you awake

Don't walk away, or would you wait for me?”

How ironic that Akko should sing this for her. When Diana has been the one pleading for her to stay day by day- maybe not in words, but in her gestures, in her eyes, in her sighs. How hurtful she was being, when Diana has been the one seeking after her. When Diana is already the one waiting.

How cruel, Akko.

“I go out to the bar, fuck hangin' with the stars

Don't even have a car, but you would wait for me, mm-hmm”

A shiver crawls up her neck, tiny hairs upright as Akko’s lips vibrate against the skin there as she hums the end of the line. The touch is ghostly, barely there, but Diana knows. She knows.

It was painful.

So, so painful for Diana.

Akko feels that pain as it drips onto the arm she has wrapped around Diana’s waist, the girl curling into herself as she bites her lip to keep her sobs trapped within.

“I-I’m sorry, I… I don’t know what’s come over me, I should just!” She wants to escape. Just escape and run from the confusion that hangs in shadows over her clarity.

But Akko doesn’t let her.

Quickly, she’s in a tighter hold, a gentler hold; the scent of strawberries and sweat permeating the bubble of air they are locked in. Her eyes see black as a hand goes over to cover them; she feels Akko’s movements through the back of her shirt.

They make another twirl.

Everything in her heart stirs along with the motion; it aches.

“All, all, all…”

Diana waits for those familiar lyrics to go on, each word digging painfully into her, because, in the end, that’s all they are. Lyrics. Lyrics that make her realize just what it is that draws her like a moth to the everlasting brightness that is Kagari Atsuko.

What it is that keeps her listening, if only to fuel her imagination when all these lines point to the same girl, painting pictures in her dreams of them walking aimlessly on a street, Akko smiling at her, laughing with her. So beautifully.

“…all the pretty girls in the world…”

She braces herself for the same old lines, ones that mean nothing but the words to catchy music.

“But they don’t compare to you.”

And they don’t come. The change of words had her whip her head up, craning her neck to look behind her, puzzled; Akko had already hidden herself against Diana’s nape. Those… That’s… not… how she remembered the song…

“You’re the color of my life

I’d battle fate if it meant I’d stay with you”

“That’s…”

“My heart aches; it longs for you”

“That isn’t…”

…

“…I know I’m in love with you.”

And Akko releases her, stepping away from the pole, and from her. It’s all cold again, freezing the blood that pumps through her veins after the bombardment to her senses.

“I’m sorry.” There are tears in Akko’s eyes now. And she just stops singing altogether. “I’m sorry.” Her voice loses that melody, now replaced by sobs. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s…”

“You must have realized, right? What I’m feeling.” She smiles grimly. “Ugly, dirty… wrong feelings… for someone like my best friend… and… I’m sorry I made you cry. You must have felt creeped out and harassed, huh? You must have been scared because I wouldn’t let you go…”

“That isn’t, that’s-“

“I’m sorry, forcing myself onto you after being so cold. I… I didn’t mean to avoid you, I just-“ She meets the confusion that clouds the sky in Diana’s eyes. “I didn’t want you to know if by chance you didn’t feel the same way.”

“That’s…”

“I… when I came into the room, I thought I’d heard wrong. What you said… the… c-confession…” Akko clenches her eyes shut, willing the tears away. “But then you said the song was about friends, so I probably have the wrong idea, and you might have just meant that you… l-love me as a friend.” She sniffles. “So, I’m sorry. I just…” I sob rips its way past the barriers of her lips, and more tears spill down apple-red cheeks. “I didn’t want you to find out like this… but I’ve… for so long…”

A beat passes, and Akko’s teary hiccups, and the pair’s mismatched breathing are the only sounds that remain in the room.

“You… You can reject me now, or something. Please don’t be this quiet, Diana.” Akko laughs bitterly, saltiness escaping sealed eyes. “I guess, I just couldn’t help it any more. Ran out of options, had nothing else I wanted to do here but tell you I love you.”

Another beat. There’s a breeze that rustles the leaves outside closed windows. Breaths calm, and the only noise that remains is the occasional sniff.

“Please just say something so I can leave.” Akko whispers, only for them to hear.

“That’s… that’s wrong.” Diana finally manages to complete her sentence.

“Loving you? Yeah. I know.”

“No.”

“Oh, leaving after telling you something so imposing like that-?”

“No, what’s wrong is… That… That’s not…”

“That’s not what, Diana?” Akko asks, a little high-strung from everything. “You’ve been repeating those words a while now.”

“That’s…”

“Hmm?”

“That’s not how the lyrics go…”

“…”

“…”

“…Diana, you dense little- mrrnngghhh!” Akko reaches forward, hands almost touching Diana’s cheeks before they pinch the air, shaking with whatever feeling fueled her strength to have her hands trembling like that. “I cannot believe you. I just… I just confessed to you, poured my heart and soul out, and all you remember, all you can say about that WHOLE thing, was that I got my lyrics wrong?!”

Akko fumes, red in the face with frustration, or sadness, or confusion, or maybe all of those combined.

“… yes?”

“Well, ain’t that great, then?” Akko sarcastically utters. “You seem relatively unaffected by all of this. Guess I should have only worried about unrequited feelings.” She begins trudging toward her water bottle by the window, donning her jacket after taking a few sips.

She is just about ready to leave.

“What next? You at least want to stay friends now? I can stay friends if you give me… space for the next couple of days to get over you-“

“Why would you have to do that? Can’t we be friends at the same time?”

“Huh?”

“Huh?”

The pair blinks synchronously in their shared confusion.

“I mean... Don’t we feel the same way? I know dating follows after these kinds of events… and then we become l-lovers… but I believe that being best friends on top of that is even more wonderful-“

“Waitwaitwaitwait, hold it! Hold it right there!” Akko waves her arms frantically in front of her.

“I- what do I hold… exactly?”

Slapping a hand over her face, Akko lets all this information sink in, processing it with her brain that has definitely shrunk from all the stupidity taking place in one room. Is it her? Or is it Diana? The one who is misunderstanding things? Or are they both not coming to an understanding? Do they just not understand each other?

“So let me get this straight…” Akko pinches the bridge of her nose, a migraine coming on.

“Of course.”

“We’re both not straight.”

“… ah.”

Akko looks to her companion curiously at the weird sound.

“That’s what Hannah meant.” Diana says with an audible snap of her fingers, face looking very enlightened, a smile decorating her features.

“…”

“Eh- Akko? Where are we going? Akko?!”

“I could kill you right now, but it’s almost time for my class. You are coming with me to work, and we will talk about this afterwards.”

“Understood.”

“Finally! One of us understands.” She drags Diana behind her, marching towards her classroom.

“Then, why must I accompany you to your class?”

“…”

“Akko?”

Diana feels a tingle in her heart at the sight of red-tipped ears, at the feeling of a heated hand holding hers, and words that are the lyrics to the best song she’ll ever hear in her lifetime.

“I love you, and I just found out you love me too… so I wanted to kiss you…”

Diana’s smile grows wider, now a stupid grin on her face. “But?”

“I’m late for class, so staring at you will have to suffice.” The blonde is pleased to know they both have their priorities set. Though she wouldn’t have minded straying from time-to-time.

“Understood.”

“You’re beginning to understand a lot of things now, it seems.”

“Naturally. I’m a fast learner.” Diana boasts. Akko simply rolls her eyes at that. “Am I allowed to stay with you in your class? What is your next class, anyway?”

“I think it’s the required language class?”

“Oh, I have that now too... Wait- we share that class, don’t we?” Diana realizes, her steps speeding up and now she’s the one dragging Akko.

“Oh, right~, wait- Diana?”

“We have a quiz in that subject.”

“…”

“…”

“Fucking run, Diana! Remember stuff like that and tell me sooner! You idiot best friend!”

“I’m your lover now too!”

“JUST. RUN.”

“I love you too, Akko.”

“I love you most.”

  //-//-//-//-//

  “I (I), I like my girls just like I like my honey, sweet

A little selfish… huh”

“You’re selfish”

Akko pauses in her guitar playing to slap the blonde’s hand.

“I like my women like I like my money, green” Both chuckle at the joke only they share; Diana rolling her eyes, sporting a blush, her minty strands fluttering in the wind. “A little jealous”

“Am not.”

“Are too.” Akko teases, kissing red cheeks.

“Oh, I'm a beautiful wreck

A colorful mess, but I'm funny”

“You are.”

“Oh, I'm a heartbreak vet (oh)

With a stone-cold neck, I'm so charmin', oh, oh”

Shifting to a position behind Akko on the little hill they’ve chosen for their first date, Diana wraps her arms around the slender waist, planting a kiss to Akko’s shoulder blade before resting her head on the girl’s shoulder, positioned in a way that she could just watch the expressions on her girlfriend’s face.

“I love you.”

Akko gives her a wink as she continues her song, everything she is- her tone, her warmth, her body language- exclaiming that she loves Diana back in the way words can’t.

“La-la-la-la-la-la-la

Do-do-do do-do

Ooh

Do-do-do do-do

Do-do-do do-do

Da-da-da da-da

Isn't love all we need? Is it love?

Do-do-do do-do

To be the same prophesy? Is it love?

Do-do-do do-do

Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti, is it love?

Do-do-do do-do

Love (ooh), do-do-do do-do”

It’s a sweet kiss. Gentle, intense, with all the colors of the rainbow, and the passion of the burning sun.

Just like Honey.

  “It’s love.”  

A/N: If you’re wondering what Diana typed, it was “Honey song” because she doesn’t know the artist. Aren’t we glad Diana is such a smart lass?

Also, this was not supposed to be this long and frustrating. Sorry for the mess and bad plot?

Comments, kudos, reblogs, any feedback is always welcomed!

~Shintori Khazumi

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Free Spot

Summary:  

"While she was still a commander in the midst of a war, she had to shut out all raw emotion while she watched Levi take down titan after titan, as the airship took her further away from where she had wanted to be. She did too good of a job turning off her emotions then and her last memory of Levi had become a free spot in her mind.”

Slight AU! Levi sacrifices himself in Chapter 132 instead of Hange and Hange deals with the consequences years later.

Written for @levihanweek  Angstober 2020. Prompt: Free Spot

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes:

A part of me felt like Levi should have gone instead of Hange. That is, if one of them had to go. I'd still rather they both lived and got their happily ever after 

I’m in the middle of writing for the greetings and farewell prompt but it's really just not looking to good rn so I'd rather not share it for now. Hopefully, I manage to get the motivation to finish it up. I’m probably gonna write some fluff and domestic Levihan after this. These prompts are just too heavy haha. 

Either way, I had so much fun writing for angstober. I hope you enjoy and do tell me what you think!

You know Levi, it feels like my time has come. I want to act as cool as possible so let me go out like this...

It had been two years since the rumbling had stopped for good. Eren was dead. The Eldians and Marleyans had established a peace treaty and the survey corps was declared redundant, replaced with a special defense squad.

Mikasa and Armin willingly took over what was left of building the defense-oriented military. Having seen enough violence and loss to last a lifetime, one soldier slowly and quietly stepped down.

That one soldier helped build what became the new city of Paradis, but still felt the burden of responsibility. Disappearing from society and retiring to some farmland on the outskirts of central Paradis felt wrong although tempting.

That soldier had seen things first hand that most people would never experience, so it was easy to take on a job as a teacher. This was especially since most Eldians did not want a repeat of the last war and who better to teach the future generation than one who had experienced it at the front ranks.

The subjects taught were easy to pick up.

Math. Science. Languages. History.

Most kids would end up mastering the basics anyway and that was more than enough for most jobs. What most people from both sides had failed to master though, was how to empathize and how to critically think. They failed to learn how to talk things through or how to question orders.

How to talk things through. How to question orders.

That was what motivated the soldier-turned-teacher, to supplement lessons with anecdotes from the Survey Corps days. It was like living in one's dreams again. The anecdotes before and after lessons kept the students entertained and it also kept the memory of one important person alive.

Three months into the lesson, one of the students had turned out to be more invested than the others and had raised her hand in the middle of one of their story times.

"Did you marry Levi?"

Maybe the former commander did get carried away.

"The soldier I mean. The one in your stories,"  the young girl clarified.

“Lena, you shouldn’t have asked that,” another student muttered.

Lena jumped up and bowed her head in embarrassment. "I'm sorry… You always got so excited when you talked about him that I thought…"

Hange only realized then that for a second she had not moved from her spot. She put a hand to her face to see that it was wet. She hastily looked back at the blackboard and wiped her face with the collar of her sweater.

"What would make you think we married?" She managed to ask as she looked back at the young student. Most of the kids in the room were roughly twelve to thirteen years old. At that point, she was still figuring out what could be mentioned and what couldn't to a bunch of preteens.

Lena blushed. "My big sister talked about her boyfriend like that and now they're married."

"Well that story could wait another time. It looks like classes are done for the day." The teacher quickly gathered up her learning materials into one messy pile on the table, thanking whatever god existed for the timing of that question at least.

Some students protested but the teacher did not budge. The latter looked back again at the blackboard as she listened to the students pack up their things and file out of the classrooms.

As soon as the last student left, Hange quickly closed the door behind her, slid on the floor and buried her face on her hands.

Why are you crying? It's been fucking years.

She slammed the floor with her fists, letting the pain that shook through her wrists, act as punishment for that random bout of emotion.

How many stories has she told them?

They had started off as stories detailing the lives of the survey corps members who had given their lives to fight a war fueled by the hate of two nations. Somehow, the stories had shifted to her own relationships. She had talked about Moblit and Erwin, the values they had upheld for the greater good of humanity.

How had she described him for the students to think they married?

Before she knew it, she had started to talk about the strongest soldier with ironically, the most unwavering regard for human life.The one soldier who was probably capable of taking down fifty soldiers without so much as a scratch was the same soldier who would ask her privately after meetings, if she could think of a better plan which would cost less lives than the one they had thought up just a while ago. He was a soldier who would always voted on alternatives that could preserve more lives.

At that point, Hange could not even recall what words she used or what tone she kept. She started to treat those story times she promised the students after every lesson as a reprieve, a way to just imagine once again the past that she had missed, and the memory that made her relax the most was that of Levi.

It had been three months since she started teaching. She guessed that she had probably started bringing him up after the first month. It had occurred to her until that moment that she had never really implied his actual fate.

Did she talk about him in present tense?

Did she say something to make them think that he had survived?

You know Levi, it feels like my time has come. I want to act as cool as possible so let me go out like this…

Her chest constricted as she remembered how she felt saying those words. At that moment she thought she was going to die.

How to question orders. How to talk things through.

Levi had never questioned her orders or tried to talk things through in public, in fear of undermining her position.  At that moment, right in front of everyone, Levi had said, "No. You're the commander. They need you out in the field. I'm not letting you die."

He had made a good point as he prepared his gear. Although he was humanity's strongest soldier at that time, he had become a little more than deadweight due to recent injuries. Either way, everyone had enough fate in his skills then, to know that even with those injuries, he'd still have enough power to take down a few titans and buy them some time to launch the ship.

While she was still a commander in the midst of a war, she had to shut out all raw emotion while she watched Levi take down titan after titan, as the airship took her further away from where she had wanted to be. She did too good of a job turning off her emotions then and her last memory of Levi had become a free spot in her mind.

Levi is alive. Levi exists in all nighters back in the office. He exists in the late nights in the forest, injured and half asleep.

As she allowed herself to relive that moment of two years ago, the only moment Levi blatantly disobeyed orders, the dam of emotions she had kept closed somewhere inside her started to flow free. She poked a few holes into it, allowing herself a few tears as she carried herself home.

It felt like it took ages but Hange finally found herself inside her empty apartment. She locked the door behind her and slid down once again on the cold wooden floor. She neglected to turn on the lights. The darkness that slowly swallowed the room as the sun started to set, only reminded her that she was alone, alone to her own devices and her own thoughts.

Levi existed before but now he is dead.

The free spot in her mind started to disappear, replaced by what should have been the raw emotion at seeing him burn and fall into the deep ocean. The grief came in large waves and Hange drowned in the emotions she had failed to release a year ago.

She called in sick the next morning and the day after and she sat alone on her bed, only standing up to eat or use the bathroom.

By what seemed to be the fourth day, it was as if she were floating. The waves had receded and she was left to survey for any damage.

Did you marry him? Another burning question came up from within her.

Hange rephrased it, given her present circumstances. Would I have married him?

Would marrying him have meant experiencing a continuation to those late night trainings as new soldiers?

Would it have meant a sequel to those late night conversations in the commander's office over tea?

Would it have meant someone welcoming her home every night after a long day’s work?

Would it have meant someone would be sitting beside her at that moment, hugging her, while she was too paralyzed by emotion to even get up?

Hange shook as she tried to imagine how it felt like again to be hugged. She knew she could have easily called someone, Mikasa, maybe Armin for a little company. Levi though was the last one she felt completely comfortable crying to, the last person she had ever shown complete vulnerability to.

And without him, she was alone. ��

The cruel truth was that that memory of Levi alive had overpowered her memory of his death. That sudden realization came as the memory once again became vivid, at a time where she had no more responsibilities of keeping soldiers alive in the midst of a battle.

Hange kicked her side table and watched as it toppled over, her belongings spilling out from underneath. She smashed her chair on top of the side table then the flower vase on the dresser.

The crown and the military had given her enough compensation to replace everything and that small afterthought was what only fueled her motivation to just release the pent up emotions. Everyone she had ever lost died for them anyway.

She went for the dresser to the side of the door and pulled out the drawers one by one, spilling out the contents on the floor before smashing them into the pile of remains of the furniture she had broken only a while ago.

She stopped at the third drawer when she saw the familiar green cloak and the wings of freedom insignia. At Levi’s last moments, she was wearing his cloak since she had expected to be the one to go.

As she spread out his cloak on the floor, she smelled traces of the familiar odor of titan’s blood. A year cooped up in the drawer had preserved the original scent. She buried her face on it and started to make out the scent of blood and sweat. At a certain point, she also made out the traces as well of the scent of old wood. The cloak had also started to adjust to the new world with no titans.

She threw the cloak on her still intact bed and sat cross legged on the floor.

Am I the only one who hasn’t moved on?  She let out a burst of laughter, and sprawled on the cold wooden floor.

The Titans are gone. The Survey Corps is gone. Everyone is dead. He’s dead.

                                              Free Spot

In total, Hange took a week out of work. She used that extra time to clean up and apologize to her neighbors after that breakdown.

Surprisingly, most of them had been understanding. Hange though did not want to use the excuse of being a shell shocked soldier to be a bother to anyone and had compensated all those who lived closest to her.

When she finally showed up back to the classroom, she was surprised to see all the students on their seats as if they had expected her to be back that day.

Of course, the substitute probably told them.

“You’re surprisingly behaved today.” Hange commented as she emptied her book bag on the table.

It was Lena who came out from behind her desk with a box and placed it on the teacher’s table.

“We heard you got really sick for a while so we got you a present which could maybe help you stay healthy,” she explained, still looking apologetic.

“Thank you.” Hange blushed as she started to untie the bow and opened the box underneath. Hange fought back a wave of nostalgia and the stinging sensation in her eyes as she opened the box to find a tea set, complete with a bag of black tea on the side.

“My dad told me tea is good for the body,” one student volunteered.

Hange put one hand to her mouth, as she felt her lips tremble. A part of her wanted to laugh and a part of her wanted to cry. She had told them enough stories to keep them busy for months but she had never mentioned tea. It was an irrelevant detail in the grand scheme of things, of course she wouldn’t. “He liked black tea. We spent a lot of our free time talking over tea,” she admitted as she traced the rim of the tea cup, holding it the same way she had seen him hold it countless times before.

For a second, Lena looked panicked. “I’m sorry we didn’t mean to… You don’t have to talk about it anymore. ”

“No. It was my fault. I’m sorry.” She stood up and put her hand on the head of the young girl. “It looks like everyone pretty much guessed what happened to that soldier huh?” She smiled, keeping her tone deliberately light.

A lot of the students kept a sullen look and Hange was sure someone had explained it to them or at the least, they had picked it up on their own.

“Well, that’s the reality of war. A lot of the soldiers don’t get to marry and have kids. Just so that everyone here could live in peace.”

That night, Hange emptied the contents of the gift box on her kitchen table.

Levi would have liked the tea set. Hange thought to herself as she allowed the black tea leaves to boil on the kettle. The smell of the black tea wafted through the air and Hange closed her eyes as she allowed herself to be brought back again to those many nights when he was the one who would serve her a cup of warm tea.

Did I add too much water? Did I add too much black leaves? Would he be disappointed?

She poured the contents of the kettle into the cup and watched the tea leaves settle to the bottom of the cup.

She positioned her hands on top of the teacup, attempting to hold the cup just like he used to. The heat right on top of the boiling water, almost scalded her palm and Hange gave up after a few tries.

I never really understood how you did it.

The warm malty taste of black tea in her mouth was nostalgic. Hange only realized then that she had unknowingly abandoned this luxury right after the war. It was as if her subconscious had been protecting her from a breakdown just like the one she just had.

The smell and the taste of black tea had always been about Levi who was long gone by then. As she caressed the intricate linings of the cup though, she also started to think of the efforts of the students who had thought up the present and saved up for it.

She looked back at the memories leading up to his sacrifice at the hands of the colossal titans. The pain was still there but it was far from excruciating. It was bittersweet. Somehow, she did not need to delude herself anymore. She just had to let that bundle of emotions and memories within her untangle themselves.

Levi was gone. To Hange though, he was still alive.

He was alive in the black tea she had allowed herself to enjoy once again.

He was alive in the anecdotes she had told her class in between lessons.

He was alive in every single person who was alive because of his sacrifice.

It’s the living who give meaning to the soldiers’ deaths. It's the living who keep the dead alive.

[clumsyclifford]

official song prompt request for 18 for malum sad eyes emoji

excellent idea anon also i know that this is a really old request but i never FORGOT so here you are hope it’s not too late sorry bout the delay

-

“Remember Ms. Thompson?”

Michael glances over at Calum, but Calum’s looking at the ceiling. “Uh, vaguely,” he says. “What was that, year…nine? Eight?”

“Something like that,” Calum says. “Doesn’t that feel like forever ago?”

“Why are you thinking about Ms. Thompson? Missing English class?” Michael teases. He shifts closer to Calum on the bed and leans his head onto Calum’s shoulder, and Calum, as if unconsciously, adjusts his posture to accommodate Michael, lifting one arm to drape it over Michael’s shoulders. They fit so well, Michael thinks; Calum’s arms seem made to hold Michael, his shoulder sculpted to be most comfortable for Michael to rest his head. 

In front of them, on Michael’s laptop, season five of Black Mirror continues to play. They’re not too far into this episode — Michael’s pretty sure it’s the last of the series — and Miley Cyrus has just showed up, but it sounds like he and Calum are heading towards a conversation, so Michael pauses it.

“Just thinkin’,” Calum says. “Musing. You know.”

“Well, don’t hurt yourself.”

Calum elbows him. “You never think about school?”

Michael shrugs. “Not much to think about, is there? It’s not like I made incredible memories there or anything.”

Calum frowns and turns to him. “We met in school.”

“Obviously other than that,” Michael says, rolling his eyes. “What’s with the nostalgia?”

“I liked you better when you were younger,” Calum says, scowling. “You were less of a dick.”

“That’s so not true. I was way more of a dick.”

Calum chuckles. “Okay. You were. But so was I.”

“It’s almost like we’ve grown and matured or something,” Michael says, faux-gasping. “Mad, I know.”

“I loved you so much,” Calum says, apropos of nothing, more of a sigh than a sentence. Michael bites his lip. “I mean, I love you so much now. I love you more. Every day I love you more, but.” He laughs a bit. “I can’t believe how much I loved you then.”

“Yeah,” Michael murmurs. “Me too.” He really can’t believe it, because thinking back on it, there hadn’t ever been a time when he hadn’t loved Calum, when he hadn’t been so head-over-heels in love with Calum. He’d previously thought it impossible to expand upon something infinite, and yet ever since meeting Calum he’s been doing it; no matter how much space Calum fills in Michael’s heart, every day he takes up more.

“Really?” Calum says, surprising Michael.

“What do you mean, really?”

“You loved me? When we were, like, eighteen?”

Michael frowns. “Of course I did.”

“I mean, you know what I mean. You were in love with me.”

“Yes,” Michael says slowly. “Is that a surprise?”

“Yes.” Calum reaches with his right hand for Michael’s left, linking their fingers where they rest on Calum’s thigh. “I thought it was more recent.”

“Seriously?”

“I don’t know, I mean, not that recent, I just didn’t realize we felt the same thing at the same time.” Calum snorts. “We should’ve gotten our shit together sooner.”

They certainly had taken their time. But, Michael thinks, it’s not really as if they missed out on much. Sure, the kissing and the love confessions, but apart from that, he and Calum had always been together in every way that mattered. They’d snuck out at night to go and sit on the swings of the nearby playground and talk about lives they never anticipated living, or lie in the mulch and watch the way the clouds would conceal the constellations, trading secrets like currency, as if enough of them might buy them a ticket out of town — just the two of them against the world. They’d spent lazy post-sleepover mornings of December having tea on the couch, watching Christmas movies and imagining that one day they’d be in the foreign, distant lands of America, where Christmas meant snow, sweaters and hats and scarves, Calum jokingly promising that if Michael’s hands got cold he could always hold Calum’s. They’d gotten drunk on rainy Saturday evenings and spent hours just wandering the neighborhood, leaning heavily against each other not because they were worried about falling down but because — because Calum had always been the center of Michael’s world, and with all his inhibitions gone, Michael had always gravitated towards Calum, and he couldn’t see a single reason not to succumb to the pull.

“Well, we’ve got our shit together now,” Michael says, sitting up and turning to Calum. There’s an easy smile on Calum’s lips, corners of his mouth turned upward. Once again Michael challenges the impossible. Sitting here, looking at Calum, he’s never been more in love than he is right now. “Give us a little credit. We didn’t take too long.”

Calum hums, bringing both hands up to Michael’s face, palms pressed to his cheeks. He rests his forehead against Michael’s. “I just feel like we lost so much time. So much time we could have spent kissing.” He giggles. “I’m going to spend my whole life trying to catch up.”

Michael’s breath catches at that, the suggestion that this is going to last their whole life, that Calum will be the bookends to Michael’s adulthood, from his first legal drink to his last words. “I hope you do,” he says quietly, feeling the heat of his exhale where it reflects off Calum’s face. “That sounds like a dream to me.”

“So do I,” Calum murmurs. “God, I’m lucky.”

Michael smoothes his palms over Calum’s waist and links his fingers together against the small of his back. “Not as lucky as me,” he says. He opens his mouth to add that he loves Calum, a broken record because when it comes to Calum everything he’s ever said has all just been code for I love you, but Calum presses forward and kisses him instead, so Michael swallows it down and returns the kiss, the taste of Calum settling itself familiarly on Michael’s tongue. 

He’s probably kissed other people, sure that at some point before he and Calum worked it out there must have been other people — Calum hadn’t been his first kiss, after all — but he can’t remember them. Calum’s the only one who matters, the only person Michael’s ever bothered to map out with his hands, the only kiss Michael’s cared to come back to.

Maybe what Michael calls love, other people would call tunnel vision, but Michael feels entitled either way. He’ll always give as good as he gets, and Calum loves Michael so hard that Michael has no choice but to do the same. He feels certain that nobody in the world has ever been the object of Calum’s affections the way he is, and nobody else could get it, that when Calum loves he throws his whole self into it. It’s not just that Michael feels obliged to return it; he wants to, to absorb the adoration and reflect it back at Calum like a mirror.

When Calum pulls away he hovers close, still holding Michael’s face. “I love you,” he breathes, beating Michael to it.

“I know,” Michael says, not to be funny. He really does know. It’s in their pulses, the three beating syllables that keep them alive, and when Michael presses a hand to Calum’s heart he can feel it under his palm, I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you. Michael’s heart beats only love for Calum, and he knows that Calum’s does the same. Still, it bears repeating. “I love you too.”

“I know,” Calum says, with that easy smile. “I’ve loved you since forever.”

“You can’t have.” (Except Michael has.)

“Since we met.”

“Can’t have then, either. We didn’t know what love was until we were, like, eighteen. We were kids. Kids don’t know about love.”

Calum shakes his head. Michael’s teasing, but Calum is letting him. “Since we were eighteen, then. I’ve loved you my entire adult life, and I’ll love you for the rest of it.”

“That’s more like it,” Michael says, with a matching smile. “And every day I love you more.”

“Enough,” Calum says. “Too much talking, not enough kissing.”

Michael breathes a laugh and bridges the gap between them. The kiss just means what they’d been saying, anyway, but Michael’s happy to tell Calum like this, or any way he can. 

[peachymarkeu]

𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: NCT 127 x OC

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮: Fluff, Angst & Suggestive

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: What is it like being an 18 year old girl that had just moved into her new apartment and then suddenly meeting the people she would consider to be her brothers while being away from her parents?

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 7: 𝓞𝓹𝓹𝓪 𝓜𝓲𝓪𝓷

Kkring... Kkring… Kring…

I woke up from the sound of my phone alarm. I stretched my arms, feeling this aching feeling on my back and neck. 7:30 am was displayed on my screen which meant that I woke up right on time. 

‘Why was I sleeping on my study table?’ I thought. Then, remembering the events that happened last night. 

I stayed up until 2 in the morning trying to finish the report I needed to submit to Mr. Park. It was one long ass night. The report needed to be a thousand words long and needed lots of reading. I checked the checklist which was written on a post it note stuck on my table. There, I saw that I was able to finish my report but that was the only thing that I accomplished. 3 more assignments were left blank. I looked right in front of me and saw a half written essay for my other class.

I got up my desk chair and stretched my arms and limbs. There were a few bone cracks here and there which somehow relieved the aching feeling in my back and neck. I then went inside the bathroom and got myself ready for school. I brushed my teeth and washed my face to freshen up. The mood this morning was weirdly very nice today so I decided to connect my phone to my bluetooth speaker and play some music.

Now playing My First and Last by NCT Dream

Since I wasn’t rushing today and I was in a very great mood, I decided to fix myself up really nice. I took out my curling wand from one of my bathroom drawers and plugged it in and waited for it to heat up. While waiting, I belted out Renjun’s famous line and danced their cute penguin dance. 

“Let’s talk about love, Let me talk about love, yeah I’m talkin ‘bout you, yeah I’m talkin ‘bout you” I rapped while holding the bottle of perfume I got from my bathroom sink.

When the curling iron beeped I stopped dancing and proceeded to curl my hair piece by piece. It didn’t take me a very long time to finish since my hair isn’t that long. After curling my hair I started head banging to “Volcano by NCT U” to loosen up my curls and make it look more natural. Then, I put on the tiniest amount of makeup just for fun. Once I was done, I looked at myself in the mirror to check whether or not there are some things I need to touch up. While doing so, I started to make funny faces and poses in front of the mirror.

‘Huh, I could be a supermodel’ I giggled at the thought.

In the corner of my eye, I saw my phone light up because of a notification. I checked it and saw that Sungho was the one that sent me the text.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sung-Sung

Yuna-yah~ time to get up. Don’t want to be late again.

Yun-Yun 

Yah, that was the very first time.

Sung-Sung 

Arraseo, hey you moved right? You’re closer to my house now.

Wanna walk to school together?

Yun-Yun

After you teased me about being late? 

Nope.

Sung-Sung

Yah I was just kidding...(￣人￣) 

Yun-Yun

Mmmkay

Sung-Sung

Where should we meet? 

Yun-Yun

Do you pass by SG27?

Sung-Sung

Yeah, yeah! You want to meet there?

Yun-Yun

Oki oki, then you buy me snacks ♡＾▽＾♡

Sung-Sung

Yah who said I’ll buy you snacks ఠ ͟ಠ

Yun-Yun

Jebal Sungho-yah ༼☯﹏☯༽

Sung-Sung

Arraseo arraseo

Yun-Yun

Yehey!! Gomawo Sungho-yah

I’ll see you there!

Sung-Sung

See you!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I put my phone down and went to my closet and changed into my school uniform. We had to wear our winter uniforms that were composed of a polo, skirt and a fluffy vest that had the crest of our school at the upper right part of my chest. I put on some very thick white socks because winter in Korea is super duper cold and wore my FILA disruptors with it. After that, I went back to my study table to fix all of my things and get my school bag. I then went out of my bedroom and to the front door to get my keys, heat pack and my bubble coat from my coat hanger. I went outside, closed the door and did not forget to lock it properly.

When I turned around I saw Jaehyun Oppa go outside of their unit.

“Annyeong Oppa!” I said to him and He looked at me.

“Annyeong Yuna! Going to school already?” he asked me in which I replied with a hum.

“Come on, let’s go down together.” he said to me and smiled, then I remembered.

“Um… Oppa, is it alright? I mean people wouldn’t want to see you going outside your apartment complex with a girl. I mean, you never know where dispatch will be as well as some sasaengs.” I explained to him whispering the very last word.

He chuckled at what I said and I looked at him confused. He then raised his right hand and placed it on the crown of my head and started to ruffle my hair. 

“Aigoo, don’t worry, I’ll only be going down with you till the first floor because I need to get something from the front desk. I won’t actually be going out of the building. Plus if you didn’t know, SM actually increased the security of this apartment complex as per our request.” He told me and winked at the end.

We proceeded to walk through the hall side by side. It was quiet but not awkward. We reached the front of the elevator and Jaehyun Oppa pressed the button and we waited for the elevator to go up. While waiting I felt my phone vibrate, so checked it and saw a notification coming from Sungho.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sung-Sung

Yah, where the hell are you??

Yun-Yun

I’m still at my apartment complex

Sung-Sung

Huh?! I’m already here, what’s taking you so long??

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Wow, he’s early’ I thought as I checked the top right part of my screen to check the time.  

‘Huh it's only 8:15, it’s not super late’ I thought to myself again until I felt a slight nudge on my left arm.

“Yuna, the elevator’s here” Jaehyun Oppa said as I looked at him slightly embarrassed that I wasn’t paying much attention.

I went inside first then he came inside right after me. I was the one to press the ground floor this time. Once the elevator doors closed, I felt another vibration coming from my phone and saw that it was from Sungho.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sung-Sung

Yah what time are you gonna get here??

I’m about to freeze (*￣m￣)

Yun-Yun

Hold your damn horses Sungho

And who told you to come so early??

Sung-Sung

Just get here already (一-一)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Boyfriend problems?” I felt Jaehyun Oppa whisper in my ear which made me activate my defensive mode and hit him in his chest area.

“Ouch, sorry to meddle” he said to me, wincing in pain and rubbing the part where I hit him with his right hand.

“Oppa! Mian mian mian mian-” i kept apologizing until we reached the ground floor.

When the doors of the elevator opened, Jaehyun Oppa went out first and I followed him. I felt super bad for hitting him and worried that I might have hit him too hard.

“Oppa, I’m really sorry. I just got really defensive and that’s what I usually do and then-” I kept on rambling until I felt his eyes on me.

“Yah, don’t worry I was just over acting” he said while chuckling at my worried expression. I frowned at him and started to punch him lightly on his arm.

“Ow, ow ,ow , ok you can stop now” he said while laughing.

I was still trying to recover from hitting him so much when I saw him looking at me straight in the eye. I was still out of breath and him looking at me made my chest feel even more tighter.

“You better get going, I bet your boyfriend is waiting for you” he told me which made me remember that I was meeting up with Sungho.

‘Ah right… Shit Sungho’s gonna be so mad. But wait, did he just say boyfriend’  I was so into my thought that I didn’t notice that Jaehyun Oppa was already walking away. 

“Oppa! He isn’t my boyfriend!” I shouted to him which made him look back at me.

“It sure looks like he’s one” he shouted back and smirked right after.

My mouth was left agape until I got back to my senses and rushed out of the building. I ran and ran praying that Sungho wouldn’t be so mad at me once I got there. I was at my final turn then I saw the store. My feet moved as quickly as they could. Then, there was a bump on the road that I didn’t notice which made me trip. I was so ready to fall down until I felt arms wrap around me.

“Yah, what the hell are you doing?! You should be more careful” I heard Sungho scold me.

I looked up and saw that he was the one who caught me before I fell. It was kind of awkward so I pushed myself off of him and fixed my uniform. He was fixing his uniform as well when he spoke again.

“Next time be more careful, okay?” he said to me in a very serious tone.

“Nae, mian Sungho-yah” I apologized and looked at the floor because of the embarrassment.

“Aigoo, is my little Yuna down” he put his arm around my shoulder and gave my a noogie which made me push him.

“Yah you still need to buy me food.” I told him with my eyebrows knitted.

“Eh?! You made me sit here in the cold for 15 minutes and I’m still the one who’s going to pay for our food??” he said in a super dramatic way that made me giggle.

“Arraseo, arraseo, I’ll pay for it. Thanks for waiting for me.” I told him which made him jump for joy and scream “Yes!” so loudly.

We went inside and looked for snacks to eat while walking to school. I went to the chips aisle and got some potato chips and to the fridge where I got my favourite banana milk. Once, I got what I wanted, I went to the cash register and put my things on the table and waited for Sungho. My jaw dropped when I saw Sungho holding about 5 things in his arms.

“Yah?! Are you trying to make me broke?” I told him in an irritated way.

“Gomawo Yuna-yah” Sungho smiled cheekily. I rolled my eyes and told the guy at the cash register that those were all our items.

While waiting for the guy to finish, I told Sungho what happened this morning in which he listened attentively. I was about to tell him about what happened to Jaehyun Oppa and I but remembered that I couldn’t, so I revised and told him that he was only a friend. 

“Ah! This morning I was at the elevator then-”  I was about to tell him about what happened to Jaehyun Oppa and I, but remembered that I couldn’t, so I revised.

“-this guy. Yeah, there was this guy who noticed that I was texting you. Then he asked me if I had boyfriend problems. Then he kept on pushing that you were my boyfriend, since you were the one I was talking to. So in my head I was like ‘huh? Sungho, my boyfriend?? Are you sure about that?’.” I ended. I was laughing so hard while telling him the story my  stomach started to hurt.

“Sheesh that would be so~ weird. Me and you?? Huh, not a chance.” he said and chuckled.

“Um.. Miss? Cash or credit.” the guy at the cash register asked while looking at me in a very judgemental way. 

“Ah, mian” I apologized and gave him my card.

The guy processed my payment and gave us the plastic bags which were filled with our snacks. We went out of the store and started to walk to school. While walking Sungho and I would spark up some conversation or tell each other funny jokes. The mood felt so light until we were faced with the reality of having to enter school. To be honest, classes went by so fast which was great. Mr. Park also did not give me a hard time this time which is so relieving. 

It was already lunchtime and Sungho and I were already at our school’s cafeteria. We were lined up at the food station when Sungho made me remember something.

“Ah… My head hurts so much. I stayed up until 3 just to finish all of our assignments.”

‘Shit our assignments’

“Um… Sungho-yah~” I said in a cute manner. He looked at me with squinted eyes, as if he was suspecting me of doing something wrong.

“What do you need?” he raised one of his eyebrows.

“Um… I still have to do my other assignments, I fell asleep while doing them last night. Can I take a look at your work…?” i said again cutely while poking his arm. He pinched his nose and shut his eyes for a while then looked at me sideways.

“What do I get from this?” he asked.

“I’ll buy you tteokbokki after classes?” he deadpanned.

“I’ll pay for today’s lunch?” he was still looking at me unamused.

“I’ll-” he cut me off.

“You owe me a best friend's date this weekend” he said.

“Ok ok” I agreed then he gave me his homework which made me jump for joy.

We’re now seated in one of the cafeterias tables, being lucky since it was always jam packed with students that there would absolutely be no seat left. I was doing my homework until I heard her voice again.

“AHHH!!! OMG did you see Jaehyun Oppa’s pictures for their comeback. Ughhh please marry me Oppa!!” Aeri squealed which distracted me from my work.

“Gosh that girl is so obsessed with NCT that she would scream to everyone ‘Jaehyun impregnate me’.” Sungho said while trying to copy Aeri’s high pitched voice which made me laugh out loud.

“Tell me about it.” I replied.

“Hey, aren’t you also a fan of theirs?” he asked.

“Yeah I am.” I said

‘And I still can’t believe that they’re my neighbors.’ I thought to myself which made me smile a little remembering what happened to me and Jaehyun Oppa earlier.

“Yah, you better not turn into those crazy fans like Aeri. Arraseo?”

“Ugh Oppa’s impregnate me~” I moaned which annoyed Sungho.

[artificialqueens]

Parisian Nights, Parisian High (Gigi Goode x Nicky Doll) - strangersophia

A/N- Hi! This is a fic that I posted in parts on my account, but thought it would be nice to submit it as one somewhere. It’s based on the song Paris by Sabrina Carpenter!

Summary: When model Gigi Goode’s flight to Paris is delayed, she meets Nicky Doll. And something about that French accent makes her want to know infinitely more.

Read on AO3

“it’s so romantic in Paris

won’t even try to compare it

thought I was sure that I’d find it

but I already have love in L.A”

With her trolley of suitcases trailing behind her, Gigi looked up at the scheduled flights. After being offered a place in a high-end fashion show in Paris, she had booked the first flight she could that week. And that same flight had now been delayed eight hours. Anyone else would go home at this point, wait it out and come back when needed- but Gigi couldn’t bring herself to sit through another bout of LA traffic in an uncomfortably long Uber ride. So as any other workaholic would, she took her bags and set herself up at a nearby table, laptop open and ready to work on her upcoming editorials she needed to submit. 

It wasn’t much longer than an hour before she found herself sharing the table with someone else who needed a workspace- and as it turned out, Gigi now had more things to be nervous about than a delayed flight. While Gigi was never the type to get flustered, she found it near impossible to keep focused when she was sat next to the girl next to her; the platinum blonde hair combined with the sweet smell of rosewater and ivy were difficult to ignore. Not long after she sat down, the blonde turned towards Gigi and spoke in the most melodious French accent she had ever heard.

“Excuse me ma’am, do you have a charger I could borrow? I noticed we have the same laptop and, well, mine is almost dead.”

Gigi stuttered for a moment before processing what she had said, replying,

“Uh- yes. Yes! Of course.” 

“Oh wonderful! Thank you dearly. I would have brought my charger, but I didn’t expect to have an eight hour wait ahead of me.” 

Gigi stopped in her tracks when she heard this. “Oh, your flight is delayed too?”

“Yes, unfortunately. I’m just trying to get home to Paris but it seems it’s going to take longer than I thought.” The girl sighed, plugging in her laptop. 

“Paris?” Gigi enquired. “I’m on the same flight, I believe.”

“Well isn’t that perfect! We have each other to pass the time!” Gigi could have sworn at this point she felt her heart give way at the thought of eight hours with the most beautiful girl she had ever seen.

“My name is Nicky by the way.” The girl said, resting her chin on her hand and smiling at Gigi.

“It’s lovely to meet you Nicky. I’m Gigi.”

After general introductions and shared frustration over delayed flights and rude airport staff, Nicky asked why Gigi was going to Paris. Nonchalantly, Gigi told her- trying her best to hide her insane excitement under a mask of sophistication. 

“No. Way!” Nicky exclaimed upon hearing her story. “You’re in this year’s fall runway? My best friend runs that thing!” Gigi had to stop her jaw from dropping to the ground.

“Seriously? You mean you’re friends with Crystal Elizabeth?”

“Oh yeah. We go way back. I’m sometimes the makeup artist for her shows!” 

At this point, Gigi was pretty damn sure that meeting Nicky must be some sort of fate. While she wasn’t one to usually listen to the universe, she couldn’t exactly ignore the messages right now.

“That’s crazy!” Gigi finally replied after a moment of shock. “So what brought you to L.A.?”

Nicky’s face dropped slightly at the comment, Gigi noticed. 

“Well, I’d been visiting my boyfriend over here for a while. But, things turned sour and we had a fight. I told him I didn’t want to see him again, and I booked the first flight I could back to Paris. I only packed my bags about three hours ago, and - well - now I’m here.”

While Gigi could sense the pain in her voice, she also couldn’t help but notice the pure relief in her words.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Nicky. You deserve better. And I hope you find that in Paris.”

Of course, in Gigi’s ideal world that meant they would fall in love then and there, and live together forever. However, the mention of an ex-boyfriend stung a little as Gigi crushed any idea she had of Nicky being anything but straight.

“It is what it is. C’est la vie.” Nicky responded, tying her blonde hair into a loose ponytail.

“Well, we now have about five hours til the flight,” Gigi said, “and I’m getting hungry. How would you like to come grab dinner with me?”

“I would love that. A junk food airport dinner is somehow actually exactly what I need right now.” 

Both of the girls opted for burgers and fries, a comforting meal considering their situation. Gigi had learnt over the course of dinner that Nicky was not only beautiful but she was hilarious- Gigi couldn’t help but laugh every time she made an incredibly sarcastic comment, or when she couldn’t pronounce words in English, to her own frustration (which was the cutest thing Gigi had ever seen.) And Nicky felt the same way about Gigi- she thought maybe the reason she kept messing up her words was because it was hard to focus on anything but the face of perfection in front of her. They ended up talking for hours. It turned out they both had a passion for makeup, design, and fashion- and Gigi showed Nicky all the photos of the looks she had been working on in return for a peek at Nicky’s upcoming work with Crystal. When it finally came to the time they had to check in and go to their gate for boarding, Nicky hesitated when they got to the desks.

“Actually… I have to go to the first class check in.” This was returned with raised eyebrows and a smirk from Gigi. Nicky laughed, “I know, I know, fancy rich French bitch, but trust me, this wouldn’t usually be the case. I just had to book the flight so late that they only had first class seats left.” 

“Oh, you poor baby.” Gigi giggled, as Nicky just winked and joined the queue for first class. But not before turning to Gigi and saying softly,

“See you on the other side.”

“why’d it take so long for me to know this?

scared to put the water with the roses

halfway ‘cross the world for me to notice

but I notice, yeah, I notice, yeah”

The ten hour flight from LA to Paris was the hardest Nicky had been on yet. Sure, she was in first class. But she couldn’t stop thinking about Gigi. Which concerned her, considering she had broken up with her boyfriend that morning and had only just met this girl a few hours after. Not to mention the fact that Gigi was, well, a girl. And while Nicky had always known she was pansexual, she had never fallen for a girl before. But something about her… something made Nicky sure that Gigi was something special. And she knew for sure that it wouldn’t be the last time she would be seeing her. Which is why Nicky got out her phone, and opened Instagram. She remembered seeing Gigi’s name all over the photos she had shown her, and thought she would put it in and see what came up. And there, on her screen, was Gigi’s account. After minutes of deliberating, Nicky decided she didn’t care how much of a stalker she might look like, and she tapped follow- hoping she wouldn’t regret it later. 

The long flight was no easier for Gigi. Consumed in the memory of Nicky’s smile, her laugh, her accent- the idea of relaxing was impossible. And Nicky’s last words to her repeated constantly in her mind. 

“See you on the other side.”

So that meant she wanted to see her again. ‘There’s one thing,’ Gigi thought, ‘but what if she doesn’t? What if it was all just a way to pass time for Nicky, and she’s forgotten all about me since getting on the flight?’  Gigi was snapped out of her thoughts as the pilot announced the plane landing, and Gigi made sure to take some photos of the city from above to put on her Instagram later. It suddenly occurred to her that earlier, Nicky had shown Gigi her Instagram page, and she could remember the handle- @nickydoll. Frantically logging into Instagram, she saw a notification pop up:

@nickydoll started following you.

It took everything within Gigi to not throw her phone down the aisle of the plane as she stared at the name on her screen. While she couldn’t remember giving Nicky her Instagram, she concluded that Nicky must have remembered her name and searched for it herself. Which, in all honesty, made Gigi’s heart flutter a little bit. Gigi followed back instantly, and didn’t hesitate to look through almost every one of Nicky’s posts. By the time she finished, it was time to get off the plane and see where Paris would take her. 

As Nicky got off the plane, she deliberated whether she should wait for Gigi or not. Upon doing this she realised she would be crazy not to- but she decided to wait until she would see her at the bag carousel where they would be picking up their luggage. Gigi spent the entire time at border security keeping her eye out in case she saw Nicky around, but gave up after a while in fear of looking way too desperate. But as she got to the bag carousel not too long later, she noticed a familiar patterned coat matched with shoulder length blonde hair and realised it was exactly the girl she had been looking for the whole time. 

“Excusez-moi, belle.” Gigi said, tapping Nicky on the shoulder. As Nicky turned around she found it hard to cover up her excitement, not only from seeing Gigi but also at the fact she called her beautiful. Not that she was reading into it or anything- it was probably just a subconscious comment. But still, two could play at that game.

“Bonjour, ma chérie.” Nicky replied, smirking. It was a good thing Gigi didn’t understand much French, because if she knew that Nicky just called her ‘darling’ then she might have melted right there. But she just smiled, and asked,

“So how was first class then huh? Must’ve been the best flight ever.” Of course Nicky could protest to that last part, but she wasn’t about to admit that- so she simply replied, 

“It was definitely a luxury. You should have seen the food they served me!”

“Oh girl, anything would be luxurious compared to the shit I had to eat.” Gigi laughed, grabbing her suitcases from the carousel. 

“Anyway,” Nicky started, “how are you getting to your hotel?”

“I was just going to call a taxi I guess. I don’t really know my way around or anything yet.”

“Oh, well, I was going to offer if you wanted to get a lift with me. My friend is picking me up, and I already texted her asking if she would be okay giving you a ride. She’s American actually, from New York. I think you’d like her.” 

“Nicky, that’s lovely of you to offer but I wouldn’t want to interrupt anything, it’s-”

“No, Gigi, honestly. I’d love to get you introduced to Paris.”

Gigi’s face softened as she smiled at the girl in front of her.

“Okay. Thank you so much, I owe you big time.”

They walked outside the terminal together, Nicky texting her friend to make sure they were picked up from the right place. As soon as they got to the carpark, Gigi saw a woman about the same age as the both of them - maybe a bit older - waving out the car window yelling,

“Bonjour ladies!”

“Jackie!” Nicky yelled back, running to the car and greeting her friend. “Jackie, this is Gigi. Gigi, Jackie.”

Gigi smiled and waved. “Nice to meet you, Jackie.”

After exchanging conversation and giving addresses, Gigi found out that Jackie was a performer and model who moved to Paris four years ago for an opportunity similar to Gigi’s, and had been living there since- with frequent visits to New York. There was one point where Gigi couldn’t pick up on the two friends’ conversation, as they began speaking in French- but from what she could deduct, they must have been talking about Nicky’s ex-boyfriend. What Gigi didn’t realise was that a good portion of the conversation was regarding her, and Jackie’s sneaking suspicion that Nicky felt some sort of way about Gigi. Jackie argued that there was no way Nicky would have invited just anyone to drive home with her- she knew all too well that Nicky was far too cautious around anyone she didn’t trust. But Nicky attested that there was nothing there, as she was trying to convince herself at the same time. 

Once the three arrived at the hotel Gigi was staying at, Nicky got out of the car to help with her bags. 

“Oh yeah,” Nicky said nervously, “I hope you don’t mind, but I followed your Instagram earlier. I thought it would be nice for you to have someone to contact if you need anything here.”

Gigi blushed, replying, “I did see that- and I don’t mind at all. I followed you back actually.”

“Good, you better have! Cause you have way more followers than me and I want more now.” Nicky laughed. 

“Sorry girl, I can’t help being this beautiful,” Gigi said with an exaggerated hair flip.

“You really can’t, can you?” For a split second moment, neither of them said anything as they made eye contact and let Nicky’s comment sink in.

Gigi broke the silence first- “Anyway, thank Jackie again for the drive ‘cause I seriously appreciate it. And thank you for keeping me company Nicky. Hopefully our paths cross again soon.”

“I agree, ma chérie. Have a wonderful night now, sleep well.” And with a quick blow of a kiss she hopped back in the car, leaving Gigi to go up to her hotel room and stalk Nicky’s instagram until she fell asleep. And sleep well, she did.

“took myself where I think I should be

something told me that it’s waiting here for me

Parisian nights, Parisian high, Parisian breeze”

Over the course of the next four days, Gigi had not only started rehearsals for the show, but she had spent a good amount of time with Nicky. As it turned out, Nicky had discussed the show with her best friend and producer of the show - Crystal - and was hired to help with the design and marketing side of things, which Nicky really just took as an excuse to see more Gigi. So while Gigi spent most of her time at rehearsals with the other models, she often got chances every now and then to spend a moment with Nicky- who usually always had Crystal by her side. But when rehearsals finished for the day, Nicky would always find Gigi before she had a chance to leave, take her by the hand, and drag Gigi to her favourite bakery a block away. There, they would order coffee, eat pastries, and discuss anything and everything. At first, Gigi would go back to her hotel after an hour, so she could do work and get ready for the days ahead of her. But by a few days in, the two were spending hours together every day. And Nicky was sure she had to do something to really solidify their relationship. So she talked to Crystal, and between them they planned a small afterparty for the runway show, hosted by Nicky and involving the two of them plus Gigi, Jackie, and Jaida- one of the other models who Gigi had become good friends with. Crystal and Jackie were entirely on board the idea of getting Nicky together with Gigi that night- and unbeknownst to them, Gigi had been planning the same thing with Jaida. 

When the night of the runway show rolled around, Nicky couldn’t help but be even more in awe of Gigi than usual. That girl sure knew how to work a runway, and look incredible doing it. Nicky even made the point of buying a bouquet of flowers for Gigi, which she gave to her after the show along with a ‘casual’ kiss on the cheek. Gigi was on cloud nine the entire night- not only had she performed in the biggest show of her career, but she was sure that she had won over the prettiest girl she had ever met. Once the five girls all met up at Nicky’s small house, bottles of alcohol were started and finished one after the other, and the whispers of hooking up got louder and louder. About an hour and a half into the party, Gigi took a seat in the corner by herself- but was met hardly a minute later by none other than Jaida.

“You liking your party, girl?” Jaida asked Gigi over the sounds of loud music and singing.

“I’m loving it. I can’t remember the last time I felt this happy.” Despite talking to Jaida, Gigi couldn’t keep her eyes off the blonde girl dancing in the middle of the lounge. Nicky was wearing a tight gold mini dress - which, frankly, had been driving Gigi crazy all night - and she was twirling her hips in time to the song playing. She truly had Gigi hypnotized. 

“Well, I see that your focus is somewhere else right now,” Jaida said sarcastically, following Gigi’s eyeline, “and I don’t blame you.”

This caught Gigi’s attention, and she turned and smiled softly at her friend.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Jaida. I like her so much, but I don’t want to scare her off.”

“Oh honey, please, that girl is not scared of you. She’s the complete opposite! I don’t think she could keep away from you if she tried.” 

And at that same moment, Nicky turned and winked at Gigi, strutting towards her with an arm extended.

“Dance with me, mon doudou!”

Gigi laughed and looked at Jaida, who simply smiled and raised her eyebrows. Before she knew it, Gigi was wrapped up in the arms of a somewhat drunk Nicky, who was pulling Gigi closer every second. Once they were tightly face to face, Nicky stopped singing along to look at Gigi and say, in a completely slurred voice,

“Gigi, you’re so preeeeetty. I’ve never seen anyone as pretty as youuu. Je t'adoreeee mon bébé.” 

‘Note to self’, Gigi thought, ‘Nicky flirts in French when she’s drunk.’ 

It wasn’t until then that Gigi noticed a pair of hands caressing her face, and as much as she wanted to keep going in the moment, she knew it was the wrong time while Nicky was this drunk.

“Alright party girl, let’s get you some water shall we? And you wanna leftover croissant?”

Nicky grinned even wider at this, nodding and following Gigi where she led her. They ended up alone in the kitchen, and Gigi managed to get a fair amount of food and water into Nicky as best as she could. 

“Whyyy are you taking care of me?” Nicky asked as she sat on the counter in front of Gigi.

“Because I care about you. And I kinda need you to stay sober tonight.” 

“You’re the best person I’ve ever met, Gigi!”

At this point Gigi knew she couldn’t take anything Nicky said in the next hour seriously, so the rest of the night turned into a pretty long waiting game.

A few hours later, the party side of things had died down and the girls all sat on the couches chatting together. Nicky had luckily almost completely sobered up, although that could probably be thanks to the fact she threw up twice in her bathroom, rather than all the caregiving she got from Gigi. Either way, it was a good thing for both of them. By about 2am, Jackie and Jaida had already left, and Crystal was ready to say her goodbyes. Both the girls hugged her as she left to the door, and Gigi was sure she heard her whisper something in Nicky’s ear along the lines of “you’ve got this, I’m rooting for you.” Honestly, it was no secret to Gigi the plans that the girls had made for them that night. And she sure wasn’t mad about it.

With Crystal gone, both of the girls knew what had to come next- but whether they were entirely confident on what to do with that information, was a different story. The house seemed quiet without the other girls, and with the music playing only softly in the background. Gigi couldn’t remember when the upbeat music turned into a playlist of slow, sultry songs, but she thought it set the mood pretty perfectly. Nicky flopped down on her couch, patting the cushion next to her to get Gigi sitting beside her. 

“Thank you for tonight,” Gigi said, “I’ve had a lot of fun.”

“Of course, I’ve had fun too. I think we all needed a bit of a party after all our hard work.”

Gigi nodded quietly, looking down at her feet. 

“I’m glad I met you. Truly.” Nicky said, hoping to get a reaction from Gigi. And she did- Gigi looked up and smiled at her.

“I feel lucky to have met you, too.”

It was as if they both felt the moment click, and Nicky placed a hand softly under Gigi’s chin, lifting her face towards her own. And almost as if in slow motion, their lips met. 

Only suddenly Nicky pushed Gigi away, moving back in her seat and putting her hands to her face.

“Gigi, I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” Nicky frantically whispered. Gigi stood up, staring at Nicky.

“What do you mean, you can’t do this?” 

Nicky just looked at the other girl blankly, trying to figure out something to say.

“Just… I can’t. Not with you, not right now.”

“Wh-what does that mean?”

“I’m sorry, but please just-”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do, Nicky? What do you want me to say?” Gigi started raising her voice so she was practically yelling. “That I’m fine with the fact you’ve led me on all night, for days even, and now you say you can’t do this?”

“Gigi, please don’t make this a big deal.” Nicky pleaded, but Gigi was already on the verge of tears.

“So this isn’t already a big deal? This doesn’t matter to you, none of this has fucking mattered to you? Nicky, you can’t act like you have no idea how much of my time I’ve dedicated to you, how much I’ve thought about you, and then when I finally think we could be on the same page, you turn on me. Just like that.”

Both of them in tears now, Nicky whispers, 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Well it hurts, Nicky. It fucking hurts.”

And without a second thought, Gigi left through the front door and didn’t look back. 

“if you show me too much love, it makes me leave

guess that’s one of many things that’s wrong with me

looking past you when you’re right in front of me

i won’t do that anymore, i won’t do that anymore”

The next week was hell for both of the girls. Crystal had offered Gigi a spot in her offices as an intern for the rest of the time she was in Paris, which meant she would be working in the same place as Nicky. While the office wasn’t small by any means, it was still easy enough for the two to cross paths- outside Crystal’s office, by the kitchen, through the corridors. Gigi would always walk past quickly, making sure her eyeline never met Nicky’s once. This, of course, just made things worse for Nicky, who already felt like crying every time the girl was close by. It was fair to say she was regretting her actions- and despite feeling like she should be mad at Gigi for yelling at her, she couldn’t find it within herself to be anything more than heartbroken. 

After three days of this, Nicky called Jackie when she got home from work, broken down in tears. 

“Jackie, what the fuck did I do? I ruined it. I ruined it like I always do.”

“Please don’t say that Nicky. Remember what you’ve been through, and remember how brave you are. I know you, and I know that none of this is your fault. So please, for the love of god, don’t beat yourself up over this.”

“But I lost her. How am I meant to forgive myself if the only thing I do is make my own life worse?” 

“Your life doesn’t depend on any boy or any girl, ok baby? Take some time for yourself. I’ll be here if you need to talk, and you’ve got Crystal and all of your other sisters.”

“Thank you Jackie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Nicky ended up talking to Jackie for six hours that night. She needed a distraction- anything to get her mind off Gigi. Around 1am, Jackie finally convinced her to get some sleep and take the next day off work. And after hanging up, Jackie decided to send a message to Gigi.

1:04am @jackiecox: Hey Gigi, it’s me, Jackie. I’ve just been talking to Nicky. I think it might be time that you two talked to each other and sorted something out, because I don’t know if I can deal with seeing her cry for three hours again because of how she feels about you. I care about both of you, and I can’t see why you should carry on like this.

When Gigi first read the message, her instinct was to reply instantly, telling Jackie that she was sorry and horrified and never wanted to go a day without Nicky ever again. But instead, she took a breath, and typed out what she felt was a more appropriate response.

1:10am @gigigoode: Thanks for reaching out, Jackie. But I don’t think I’m ready to do that just yet. 

1:12am @gigigoode: When Nicky tells me herself that she’s ready, that’s when I’ll be ready. Because I’m not risking it again. 

The next day, Gigi stumbled out of bed a little more carelessly than usual. She knew she would have to see Nicky again, and knew it would be more painful knowing now what had been going on behind the walls she had put up. So she got to work as last-minute as she could without being considered late, going straight to her desk and putting her head down to work. While she wasn’t necessarily keeping an eye out for Nicky or anything, she found it strange that by midday there was still no sign of her. And she found it even stranger when Crystal walked by her desk and asked if she had seen Nicky that day. Somewhat taking advantage of the situation, Gigi decided to work late and didn’t get home until 8pm that night. And yet, still no sign of Nicky. So, she grabbed her phone and took matters into her own hands. 

8:11pm @gigigoode: Nicky, look, I know you’re probably mad at me. Or scared. Or both. But you can’t just stop coming to work, I think you already know I’m over it okay? Can’t we just remain civil?

No reply. At this point, Gigi was pretty sure her suspicions were correct in presuming she was the reason Nicky had been so absent. So after a few hours, she decided to try again. 

11:56pm @gigigoode: Whatever, I get it. But there’s no point in hurting both of us. 

After half an hour with no response, Gigi opened a bottle of gin and settled down for the night. It was the only way to repress the anxiety creeping into her mind; the more she thought about why Nicky could possibly be ignoring her this hard, the more she worried. Just as Gigi was about to give up hope on getting any sign of life, her phone finally lit up.

12:57am @nickydoll: Gigi I’m sorry, I swear I’m not mad at you. 

It took a minute for Gigi to realise she had actually got a response. But it wasn’t enough for her. What she really wanted was an explanation. So she opened the message, and waited.

1:08am @nickydoll:  But yes, I’m scared. I’m scared because when I look at you, I know how I feel, and it scares the shit out of me. And I wish I could go back in time and kiss you again but it feels impossible because I’m not used to letting anyone love me, okay? 

1:10am @nickydoll: You wanna know why it was so easy for me to just up and leave LA like I did? Because my boyfriend was the worst person in the world. He abused me, he manipulated me, he used me, and he lied to me. So when I saw the opportunity, of course I used it to escape. And I guess that’s why I clung to you that day at the airport, because it was the first time in so long I felt like someone saw that I actually existed, and didn’t just see me as a pile of broken parts. I felt something when I talked to you.  And when you kissed me… my heart knew it was right, but my mind told me to shut it out because I’ve been taught not to trust people like that. So I put up my walls. And I’ve shut myself off from you because every time I see your face it reminds me of just how broken I am, and how badly I wish I could fix myself. Or find someone to fix me. But I know I can’t put that responsibility on you. So I’m sorry if you’re hurting, Gigi, but just know it hurts me more.

1:16am @nickydoll: Still, I know I can’t change what I did to you. But if you want me, I’m here. 

1:20am @nickydoll: I’ll always be here.

By the time Gigi finished reading the messages, she was already halfway out the door, her vision blurred by tears. She should’ve known she was being selfish. Nicky deserved so much more. And Gigi wanted nothing more than to be the one who could give her the world. So if it meant turning up on her doorstep at 1:30 in the morning, she was willing to do it. By the time her Uber arrived at Nicky’s house, it was nearing 2am. After pacing for a minute outside the door, she built up the confidence to do what she needed to do and knocked five times. No answer. She tried knocking again. And again. 

“Nicky, what the fuck.” Gigi muttered under her breath. Surely there was no way Nicky had gone out at this time of night- so Gigi assumed she was inside and ignoring her on purpose. Getting out her phone, she dialed Nicky’s number and waited for an answer. And to her surprise, she heard a voice pick up the call. 

“Gigi?” It was Nicky. But not by herself- there was music in the background… and voices. 

“Nicky? Where the fuck are you? I’m literally at your house right now.” 

“Merde. I’m sorry. Be there in five.” And with that, she hung up. 

At this point, Gigi didn’t know what to do. Or what to think. Or where the hell Nicky had been. So she sat down on the doorstep and waited for her to arrive. And surely enough, in five minutes, she did. And when they came face to face, neither of them could bear to say a word. 

“if I asked that girl to jump, i know she would

she don’t even have to say, it’s understood

she treat me nice, she treat me right, she treat me good

still I get so hesitant, still I get so hesitant”

As Gigi stood in front of Nicky on the steps of her front door, neither of them had a clue what to do. But as soon a single tear rolled down Nicky’s face, all doubt slipped Gigi’s mind and she stepped forward and hugged her as tight as she could. Nicky melted into the embrace. And soon enough, both of them were crying quietly in the glow of the streetlights, holding on to each other as if that was all they needed to survive. Because in that moment, it felt true. 

When the moment felt right, Gigi pulled away to look Nicky in the face. She had a full face of makeup, now ruined with mascara running down her face and lipstick smudged. 

“Hey, let’s get you inside and get you cleaned up, yeah?” Gigi said almost in a whisper, met with a small nod from Nicky as she opened the door and led them both inside. Once they were in the house, Gigi got a chance to look at Nicky properly. She had tall heels on which made her almost a head taller than Gigi, and she was wearing a mini skirt which left her with bare legs that were barely covered by the large coat she had wrapped around her. 

“Why did you come here?” Nicky asked nervously as soon as they got in the door.

“Why did I come here? Because I was worried about you, Nicky. You weren’t answering my messages and I felt horrible. And then when you sent me that message, well, no amount of things I could have texted you would have conveyed how I felt. I needed to come here, and explain how sorry I am for being such a bitch to you.”

“Gigi, I never thought that about you. Just so you know.”

“Even still, you deserved better, okay?” After a moment of silence, Gigi knew she had to ask what she had been wondering since Nicky turned up.

“So, are you gonna tell me where the hell you’ve been? Because I’m still gonna be worried until I know what you’ve been up to.” 

“Gigi, I don’t think you wanna-”

“Please. You can trust me, okay?”

“Can I go get changed first? You can sit down on the couch if you want. I just want to be comfortable, if that’s okay.” Nicky looked at Gigi pleadingly. 

“Of course, baby. Take your time. I’ll make us some tea.”

Ten minutes later, Nicky came back in pyjama shorts and a hoodie to see Gigi sitting on the couch with her legs curled up, holding two cups of chamomile tea. When she sat down, she was met with an expectant look from Gigi.

“So? You wanna explain?”

“I was at a club.” Nicky said quickly, looking down and playing with her hands.

“That’s all?” 

Nicky kept looking down. “Well… it was… a gentlemen’s club, you know.” She looked up at Gigi who was obviously trying to appear as unbothered as possible- but she could sense the shock.

“Before you say anything, I’m never going back there again. It was a bad idea for me to go back there tonight anyway.”

“What do you mean, go back there?”

Nicky sighed before explaining everything. “Before I moved to LA, my work wasn’t doing too well here in Paris. I needed another way to make money, so the only thing I had left to turn to was working for an escort company. It was while I was doing that when I met my ex-boyfriend, who was visiting Paris from LA and would hire me all the time. We got to know each other, and after a month he convinced me to move to LA with him. Looking back, I was completely manipulated, but I didn’t notice until it was too late. Anyway, I swore I would never go back to that industry. But the past couple days have been so hard, that I just needed any way I could find that would take my mind off of things, you know? So I went back. But now I just feel worse about everything, and I feel so, so, stupid.” Gigi grabbed both of Nicky’s hands and looked into her eyes.

“Nicky, you are not stupid. You were going through a hard time and you made a bad choice. It’s okay. These things happen. But I’m not going to judge you for it and you shouldn’t beat yourself up for it either.”

“I don’t deserve you, Gigi. You’re too good for me.”

“Doll, please, don’t say that. You are the sweetest, bravest, most talented person I have ever met. And I’m not just saying that. From now on, I want you to trust me and know that everything I do is because I care for you. You are extraordinary. And you always will be extraordinary in my eyes, no matter what.” 

Almost instantly after she finished her sentence, Nicky grabbed both sides of Gigi’s face and kissed her with all the intensity she could. At first Gigi was completely stunned, but after a few seconds she relaxed and let her hands find her away around Nicky’s waist. Nicky had no idea how she had gained such a surge of confidence, but she did know that she had never been more sure of anything in her life. She wasn’t scared anymore, because she had Gigi. And in that moment, that was all she needed. 

Once they both broke away from the kiss, Gigi was smiling harder than Nicky had ever seen- and Nicky reciprocated her reaction. 

“I’m glad you finally came around,” Gigi said, “because I’ve been dreaming of that moment for a while now.”

“Oh believe me, I have been too. But I only now stopped my mind from getting in the way.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Cause I could get used to this.” Gigi laughed, and Nicky leaned in for one more peck on the lips. This turned into another passionate kiss, but after a while they both pulled away in fear of taking it too far, too fast. 

“As much as I’d like to continue,” Gigi said while stroking Nicky’s hand with hers, “you have had a long day and we both need a rest.” Nicky pouted, but knew Gigi was right. 

“Should I call an Uber?” Gigi asked. “I don’t wanna be in your way if you want some time alone.”

“Are you kidding me? You are staying here as long as I can keep you.” Nicky replied, earning a smile from Gigi. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think either of us are gonna be up for going into the office tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, yeah, I am definitely going to need a sleep in tomorrow. I’ll call Crystal in the morning.”

“Alright then. Do you wanna borrow any pyjamas?” 

Gigi looked down at herself and remembered the fact that she was in such a hurry to leave earlier she had actually just thrown a hoodie over her pyjamas and left.

“I’m good actually, I can sleep in what I’ve got on. But thank you.”

“Ok, let me know if you need anything though. And I don’t know where you want to sleep, but…”

“I’m fine to sleep wherever, honestly. I can sleep right here right now if that’s easiest.”

Of course, Nicky would ideally have Gigi sleeping in her bed already. But, she didn’t want to rush anything. So she offered her the guest bedroom that she kept ready for any friends she had sleep over. 

Once both of the girls had gotten ready to sleep, Nicky went to Gigi’s room to make sure everything was set up properly for her. And, really, she wanted to make sure she had a chance to truly thank Gigi for everything.

“Hey Gigi, everything okay here?”

“Oh, it’s perfect. Thank you so much for letting me stay over.”

“Of course. And actually, I wanted to come and say thank you. If you didn’t come over tonight I don’t know what might have happened to me.”

Gigi got up from her bed and pulled Nicky into a soft hug, whispering, “I’m glad I did come over. I couldn’t bear to think of you hurting.” 

Nicky smiled gently and, walking to the door, said, “Well, I’m glad you’re here. Goodnight, ma chérie.”

“Nicky, wait-” Gigi said before the door could shut, “what does that mean? Ma chérie? I’ve heard you call me it but I’ve never known what you’re saying.”

“It means, my darling.” 

And with that, Gigi was left feeling more in love with Nicky than ever. 

“je ne voulais pas trouver l'amour

mais paris a quelque chose

qui donne envie d'aimer, d'aimer passionément”

That morning, Gigi woke up slowly to the sound of Nicky crashing around in the kitchen making either breakfast or lunch, depending how long Gigi had slept in. As she listened closer, she could hear her singing some song in French. Gigi had no idea that Nicky had such a beautiful voice- she closed her eyes for a minute to take in the happiness she felt in being woken up by the sound of the prettiest girl in the world- the girl that had kissed her not once but twice in the past 24 hours. As she turned over to check the time, she noticed her phone screen lighting up beside her.

9:35am @jaidaehall: UMMMM YOU + NICKY = BOTH NOT AT WORK???

9:37am @jaidaehall: You better not be all sulky and depressed now too, or else I’m gonna come over there and make you snap out of it. 

9:45am @jaidaehall: Like for real, the reason you’re not replying better be because you and Nicky are making out and not because you’re staying at home all petty I sweaaaar

Reading the messages from Jaida made Gigi giggle to herself, and she knew Jaida would die if she told her what happened with Nicky. So she decided to make her wait a little longer, just for fun.

10:12am @gigigoode: hahahaha i’m literally at nicky’s house right now. will explain tonight ;)

10:13am @jaidaehall: BITCH OMG

10:13am @jaidaehall: Just so u know, make up sex is the best sex okay?

10:15am @gigigoode: lol, shut UPPP

And with that, Gigi got out of bed slowly and made her way to the kitchen where Nicky was standing in front of the stove, occupied by her phone. Before she even noticed Gigi in the room, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist from behind.

“Good mooorning.”

“Oh bonjour, princess.” Nicky said, turning around with a wink. Gigi loved how she was already calling her pet names- it felt like they were dating already. 

“Did you sleep okay? After everything?” Gigi asked, with her arms still draped around Nicky’s waist.

“It took me a while to get to sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about everything, but I didn’t sleep too badly.” Of course, by ‘everything,’ Nicky meant that she could not stop thinking about Gigi’s lips on hers last night- and Gigi’s night had been pretty much the same.

“Yeah, same here. So, what did you want to do today then?”

The two girls spent the day at Nicky’s house curled up on the couch together, watching a marathon of movies- both in French and English. Nicky loved explaining all her favorite French movies to Gigi, and seeing her gradually fall in love with them the same as her. When the end of the day came, both of them decided it would be best for Gigi to go back to her own hotel room for the night, since they had to go to work the next day and Gigi still had things she had to prepare. So after a dozen goodbye kisses, Gigi made her way back to the hotel, still basking in the fact that traces of Nicky’s perfume were left on all of her clothes.

At work, it was impossible to keep the two apart. In fact, Crystal noticed and gave them projects to work on together, discovering that they actually made an extremely efficient and talented team. The next week for Gigi was spent back and forth from her hotel to Nicky’s house, alternating where she would stay for the night. It was on the third night staying at Nicky’s house that she first slept in the same bed as her. That particular night was filled with torrential rain, and a thunderstorm that began around 1am. Gigi had always hated thunder, so upon hearing it she decided to go into the kitchen and get something to drink, to try to take her mind off of the noise. This woke Nicky up, who tiptoed into the kitchen to see if Gigi was okay. 

“What’s wrong, mon coeur?” She whispered upon noticing Gigi huddled up with a glass of orange juice. 

“Sorry baby. I just got woken up by the thunder and couldn’t sleep.”

Taking her hand, Nicky said, “That’s okay, you do what you need to do. I mean, if you want, you could come join me in my room. You know, so I can keep you safe.”

Gigi smiled warmly. “I think I would love that.”

“Ok, well, I’m going to go back to bed and you join me when you’re ready, yeah?”

Gigi nodded, and Nicky gave her a kiss on the forehead before going back into her room. 

After finishing her drink, Gigi slowly opened the door to Nicky’s bedroom- admittedly, very nervous. 

“Come here, ma belle.” Nicky said sleepily and patted the other side of the bed. Gigi had never slept in a bed with silk sheets before, so getting into Nicky’s bed felt like a luxury. Not to mention the fact that she was sleeping next to Nicky. Both of them faced each other as they lay down, and Nicky started to stroke her fingers through Gigi’s hair and down the side of her face.

“Gigi, you’re perfect. You know that right?”

“I could say the same about you, doll.” Gigi flinched as a particularly loud bout of thunder struck. Nicky put a hand on her side and pulling her closer, whispering,

“Hey, I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Thank you, I’m okay. I just jumped, that’s all.” Nicky nodded, starting to trail her fingers softly up and down Gigi’s arm, giving her goosebumps.

“Try and get to sleep, baby.” And with that, Gigi felt safer than she ever had before- and she fell asleep in no time to the rhythm of Nicky’s breaths. 

Since that night, Gigi fell asleep in Nicky’s arms every time she stayed over. 

And she loved it.

In the last week of Gigi’s four week stay, she ditched the hotel room all together and stayed with Nicky every night. They had game nights with the other girls, they had movie nights, and they had quiet nights where the two of them would sit on the balcony talking for hours, drinking red wine under the stars. Life felt perfect. However, both of the girls knew that Gigi’s time in Paris had to end at some point, and Nicky still had been too scared to bring it up. Until one night when they were arriving home from work, when Nicky forced herself to ask Gigi about her flight home.

“So, I’ve been wondering, what day is your flight again? Is it next week?”

“It was meant to be this coming Monday, yeah.” 

“Meant to be?” Nicky replied curiously. 

“And that brings me to what I was going to tell you tonight.” Gigi said, dragging Nicky’s hand to sit them both down on the couch, 

“Nicky, I’ve been given a job offer. Or at least, an interview for one. Crystal recommended me to a big designer who wants me to not only be a model, but also help with the design of their new line for the year coming up. If I get the job, I guess I’ll have to move here. Permanently.”

“Holy shit, ma chérie this is amazing!” Nicky yelled, grabbing Gigi into a huge hug.

“I mean, don’t get your hopes up too much baby. I still don’t know if I’m gonna get accepted.”

“Still, even so, I’m so proud of you. You’ve been in Paris for a month, you’ve only just turned 22, and you’re already making a name for yourself. You amaze me, Gigi.”

“Thank you, Nicky. Honestly, I couldn’t have done it without you. You’ve been my rock through all of this.” Nicky smiled, and Gigi kissed her quickly. 

“Now, I don’t know about you…” Nicky started, as she swung her leg over Gigi to straddle her, “but I think we should be celebrating this win.” 

Gigi looked up at the girl on top of her, smirking. “Oh, you think so?” 

Nicky could barely fit in an “mhmm” before Gigi pulled her down by the waist, kissing her passionately. In less than a minute they had gained a rhythm, Nicky grinding on top of Gigi and running her hands through her hair. Gigi grabbed the back of Nicky’s tight shorts, causing her to moan into the kiss. To get her back, Nicky pinned Gigi’s wrists down on either side of her, and began trailing kisses starting from the top of her neck all the way down to her collarbones. And 

pulling the neckline of her shirt down just a little, she left a dark hickey at the top of her chest. Once they got back to kissing, Gigi’s hands found their way under Nicky’s shirt and she traced circles all over her stomach. Nicky began to pull her shirt over her head, but Gigi took her hand for a second.

“Nicky, babe, you sure you wanna do this? I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” 

“I’m more than sure, mon bonheur.” And as she spoke, she threw her shirt on the ground leaving her in a light red lace bra. Gigi took a moment to take the sight in, in disbelief of how she got so lucky as to end up with someone so perfect in every way. And without hesitation, she ripped her own shirt off and threw it down next to Nicky’s. 

“Wanna take this somewhere we have more room?” Gigi said breathlessly, met with a nod from Nicky who was already dragging her by the wrists to the bedroom. Before she knew it, Gigi was already pinned down to the bed without her clothes on, enjoying every moment of what the blonde girl on top of her was doing. Most of the time was spent that way- save the moments where Gigi found her head between Nicky’s legs, finding out that Nicky did not keep quiet when she was satisfied (which Gigi loved, and did her best to evoke). 

It was fair to say that the two enjoyed each other’s company, in every aspect of their lives. When people talk about humans being made out of stardust, there was no doubt they would have been made from the same star. It was the only explanation as to how they fit each other so perfectly, and neither of them could imagine it being any other way. 

“mon coeur est à toi pour toujours

you will always have my heart.”

When the day of Gigi’s job interview finally rolled around, it was almost impossible for her to get out of bed. Of course, she was incredibly excited for the opportunity she had been given- but at the same time, she couldn’t quite escape the chronic overthinking part of her brain. So as she lay in bed sleepless for an hour before her alarm went off, she went through every possible thing that could go wrong in her day. That was, at least, until Nicky woke up. It was hard to stay reluctant when you are greeted in the morning by your girlfriend on top of you showering your entire face in tiny kisses, telling you how amazing you are. Oh yeah, girlfriend. Gigi still couldn’t believe she could use that word. It was all because of one night the previous week, where Nicky had fallen asleep on the couch during one of their movie nights. When it got late, Gigi decided to scoop the sleeping girl up the best she could and carry her to the bedroom. Nicky woke up halfway through the process, but kept her eyes shut until she reached the bed. And when Gigi lay down beside her, Nicky - who was still half asleep - mumbled quietly,

“Thank you Gigi. You’re the best girlfriend ever.” And just like that, she was back to being fast asleep. 

The morning after, Nicky remembered what she had said in her sleepy trance. As soon as Gigi woke up, Nicky instantly asked,

“Did I say anything to you last night? I don’t remember what was a dream and what actually happened.” Gigi laughed, and started intertwining her fingers with Nicky’s.

“Well, you did say something about me being the best girlfriend ever… or something along those lines.”

Shocked, Nicky stammered, “Shit- Gigi, I’m sorry, I know we haven’t discussed that yet and I didn’t mean to-“

“Hey,” Gigi cut her off, “If you feel like you’re ready, it would be an honour to be your girlfriend, Nicky.” Nicky’s eyes brightened, and she squeezed Gigi’s hand tightly.

“It would be a dream come true.” 

So since that day, they considered themselves an official couple- and every one of their friends never heard the end of it. 

That day, however, Gigi felt more lucky than ever to have a supportive girlfriend like Nicky. She was the one who motivated her to get her work done, get the interview booked, get out of bed, get ready, and finally get her ass interviewed. And she was also the one who was there to celebrate when Gigi came home grinning, gushing about how amazing the interview went.

“She said she was impressed by my work. Violet Chachki liked MY work! And not only that, but she said she wanted to work with me from the moment she saw my portfolio.” Gigi could almost cry, she was so happy. Not only about the job- but about the heightened possibility that she could be spending the rest of her life in Paris with Nicky. And surely enough, she received a call only two days later offering her a position. Nicky hosted a wonderful party for Gigi with all of their best friends, a lot of dancing, and a lot of alcohol. It almost made them forget about the fact Gigi was still due to fly back to LA in a few days time. She would only be gone two and a half weeks - just enough to get everything organised back home for her move to Paris - but Nicky knew it was going to feel like a lifetime. When the day came that they had to say goodbye at the airport, it was a mess- mascara stained coats and puffy eyes boarding the flight, knowing they would see each other soon again but still torn at the idea of missing each other’s touch. They video called every day, getting used to the change in time zones that meant Gigi would wake up when Nicky was having dinner, resulting in many pretend dinner dates while Gigi ate her breakfast. Gigi enjoyed spending as much time as she could with her mother before leaving LA for good, while Nicky spent her time catching up on everything she had missed with Crystal. But the eighteen days they spent apart from each other only made them realise how much of an impact the other had made in their life. Nights felt a little bit colder, and days felt a little bit longer. It was hard to put a finger on exactly what felt different– rather it just felt like a small piece of their life had gone missing. What both of them did know, however, was the love they felt for each other. Every video call they kept the three words on their lips, neither of them letting it out in fear of rushing the other. So their love went unspoken yet strongly felt; in every exchange they had where they would lock eyes and feel it rise in their throats, or every time they would hear the other’s voice and at the same time hear their heartbeat pound a little louder. When the day came that they reunited in Paris’ airport, it was as if their wiring reconnected from the first embrace, lighting up their lives once again. 

But even when they got back home and Gigi unpacked her belongings - for good, this time - Nicky still found it impossible to spit out the words she so desperately fixated on. The same went for Gigi, who had planned for the moment the entire flight home but lost all conviction when she set foot in the airport. That night, however, Nicky knew she had to do something about it before they fell asleep. Which was a decision she made as she watched her girlfriend get ready for bed, as they usually did. 

“I missed this.” Nicky said, sitting next to the sink waiting for Gigi to finish brushing her teeth. Gigi spat out her toothpaste and turned to Nicky, confused.

“You missed me brushing my teeth? Out of all things?”

“I mean, it was the small things I missed. You know? Like this, getting to watch you get ready for bed and do your adorable nighttime routine. Or going to bed and having someone to warm my cold feet. Or getting out of bed in the morning and hearing music coming from the kitchen. And I missed having someone to correct me when I used English wrong, I missed having someone to sing with me in the car in the mornings, and I missed having coffee with my girlfriend after work.”

Gigi was tearing up at this point. It felt so crazy that anyone could feel that way about her. And she knew what Nicky meant– those were all the things she had missed too. Nicky stepped towards her, and pulled her into a deep hug.

“I love you, Gigi.” 

Gigi melted into her arms. “I love you too, Nicky.” Pulling away, Gigi softly put her hands around Nicky’s face, and kissed her with more desire than she had ever felt. And at that very point in time, it felt like the entirety of Paris was their own. The city of love shined just for them, in all of its heartache and glory. From their Parisian high, they never wanted to come down. 

[alagalaska]

Sneak Peek of ‘It’s On!’ Chapter Two

Hey guys, as it is taking so much longer to finish the second chapter than I had expected, here is a little sneak peek to keep you all going! Sorry updates have been so slow. I had been hoping to get them out a lot quicker now I’m at home 24/7 but I’ve had some commissions on the crafting side of things, which is great, but has slowed things down a lot in terms of writing. 

Anyway, so you can get a taste of things to come, the warnings for this chapter will include: swearing, smoking, underage drinking, drinking in general and some slight sexual references *winking face*

Aesthetic by the wonderful @nottherightseason​ 

My Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Chapter One

Word count: 1,580

EDIT: Ok, so this is actually way more than just a ‘sneak peek’ lol but I felt bad about not posting in a while, so enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

 ------

Over dinner, your mum keeps glancing at you across the table as you push your food around on the plate with your fork. You don’t feel very hungry. You’ve been trying to think of a way to bring up Heather’s plan without it sounding suspicious. What if she knows you’re lying?

“How was school?” your mum asks. 

“Hmmm?” You look up from your plate distractedly; pulled from your thoughts. 

She takes a long sip of her red wine, looking at you over the top of the glass. The almost empty bottle sits in front of her on the table.

You take a moment to process her question. “Yeah, fine,” you shrug. 

Oh yeah, it was great, you think sarcastically, letting your eyes fall back to your plate. You make a point of spearing a piece of cold broccoli and chewing deliberately slowly. 

“And how’s basketball going?” 

Someone’s talkative tonight…

“Yeah,” you say, not even bothering to look up, “great.” Where would you even start with that one? 

Well you see, Ma’, because the new boy’s captain is an inconsiderate jerk, we’re having to practice outside in the cold; as a result half the team now hates me and I’m pretty sure Ashley’s trying to overthrow me as captain. So yeah, it’s going great! 

“Have you got much homework to do over the weekend?” She asks, putting her glass down and picking her knife and fork up again to continue eating.

You pause with a forkful of pie halfway to your mouth. 

“Actually, yeah,” you say, taking the opportunity she has unknowingly presented you with. “We got given an English assignment. I was going to ask, would it be alright if I stay at Heather’s house tomorrow night?” 

Your mum glances up at you, like she’s about to say something, but you continue. 

“I know she’s in a different class, but we got the same assignment and we thought we could work on it together.”

She watches you carefully as she finishes her mouthful of food. Please buy it, please say yes. 

“Will her parents be there?” She finally asks.

You almost want to laugh, because you had been expecting her to ask that; but you quickly suppress the urge. 

“Yes.”

“Then that will be ok, yes.” Yes! “But Y/N,” she pauses, checking that you’re listening before she continues. Your stomach clenches nervously as your eyes meet hers.

“Make sure you each do an equal share of the work; don’t let her just copy you. You’re much brighter than she is; you know what I think, she’s always taken advantage of that, that Heather.” She’s picked the wine glass back up now and is pointing at you with the index finger of the hand holding it. 

You want to defend Heather and say that’s not true. You hear Mr. Kaminsky’s words from earlier in the day, repeating in your head, ‘I’ve noticed your grades are slipping.’ 

If only you knew, you think at your mum.

“Uhuh,” is all you say, shovelling the forkful of pie into your mouth to stop yourself from saying anything else. 

The pair of you sit in silence, finishing your dinner. 

I can’t believe I’m going to the party! you think excitedly to yourself. That was so much easier than I had expected! 

You have to remind yourself to chew slower, trying not to seem too eager to leave the table. You can’t wait to tell Heather. 

When you’re both done eating, you stand from the table and collect up your plates. You start washing up, your back turned to your mother as she remains seated at the table. You can feel her eyes watching you. 

“You know I’m proud of you darling, don’t you?” she says suddenly. Her voice is thick, speech slurring around the edges slightly. 

You turn around slowly. She’s cradling her empty wine glass in her hand, watching you with sad eyes. 

You wipe your wet hands on your top, meeting her gaze for just a second. But that second says it all. 

Are you, really? You can feel your eyebrow almost twitch upwards at the remark. 

“Are you done with your glass?” you ask, avoiding her eyes once more. She continues to look at you and you can feel the hurt protruding from her.

You reach for it, “I’ll wash it up if you are.” Give me the glass, you don’t need any more wine.

She seems to gather her composure, then she takes hold of the wine bottle, sniffing loudly. She tilts it to see what contents remain at the bottom then pours the rest into her glass and places the bottle back down on the table. She stands swiftly and retreats into the living room, without saying anything else. 

For a moment, you stand at the sink, staring at the empty bottle on the table. Then, with a sigh, you turn back round and finish washing up; your elation about the party, temporarily smothered. 

When you’re done, you grab the bottle off the kitchen table. You rinse it quickly under the tap then take it outside to the recycling. You stare down into the plastic tub, full of empty wine bottles, placing tonight’s on the top of the pile. Then you go back inside and call Heather from your bedroom to tell her the good news about the party.

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

The following evening, you’re standing in front of the full length mirror in Heather’s room, trying to decide what to wear to the party. You’d brought a choice of outfits with you, stashed at the bottom of your overnight bag, covered carefully with your pyjamas and the English textbook you wouldn’t need. 

Heather sits cross-legged at the end of her bed, offering her opinions as you hold up each outfit in turn against yourself and show her in the mirror. 

“Which do you think Billy will like best?” you wonder out loud.

She considers you carefully for a moment, a big smile spreading across her face.

“What?” you ask, seeing the way she’s looking at your reflection in the mirror.

“I’ve never seen you act like this over a guy before,” she says. 

“So?” 

“Don’t get me wrong,” she starts quickly, “I’m thrilled. ‘Bout time we got you laid.”

“Oh my God, Heather!” you gasp in shock, reaching out to smack at her arm lightly. “I’m not planning on sleeping with him!”

She holds up her hands in front of her, laughing, “Hey, I’m not judging.” 

You bite your bottom lip, smiling gently as you continue to check out your current outfit choice, Heather’s words filling your head. You’d been thinking a lot about what Billy’s invitation meant- if that’s even what you could call it.

‘It’d be cool if you came.’

You notice that Heather is still smiling at you, but it’s softer around the edges, more thoughtful than before.

“What now?” you ask her, exasperated, but in a jokey way.

“Nothing,” she says, shrugging, “It’s just nice to see you happy.” Heather’s words fall upon you with more weight than you think she intended and you huff out a laugh to try and mask the sudden aching in your chest.

“You’ve been in a bad mood all week,” she adds. “I’ve only seen you smile when you’ve been talking about Billy.”

“Yeah, I know,” you sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her. “I guess it’s this shit with the boys’ basketball team still not being resolved. It’s just bothering me is all.” 

“What? But I thought you went and talked to the new captain this week?”

“I tried,” you explain, “I went to talk to him after practice on Thursday and they weren’t in there. Turns out he booked the space but they didn’t use it.”

“What? That’s so annoying!”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you grumble.

“So what are you gonna do about it then? What if he tries to book it again next week?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, fiddling with the edge of the bed covers, “I don’t really want to think about it right now. I just want to have fun tonight,” you look at her pleadingly. “I could really do with just having some fun.”

Heather nods in agreement, then starts laughing like she’s suddenly thought of something amusing.

“Well, maybe Billy can help you with that!” she says suggestively. 

You can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes you. 

“Not what I meant, Heather! Ugh!” You roll your eyes at her and gently shove her shoulder so that she has to grab hold of the edge of the bed to avoid falling off it. You stand and turn back to the mirror to hold up one of the outfits in front of you again. “What about this one?” you ask. 

She composes herself and moves off the bed to stand next to you, looking you over in the mirror. She places her hands on your shoulders. 

“That’s it. That’s the one,” she smiles at you, leaning her head against yours. “Now, come on, hurry up or we’re gonna be late,” she let’s go of you and starts rushing around the room, gathering up her own outfit and then settling down at her desk to do her makeup. 

You check your chosen outfit one last time, then sit yourself on the floor in front of the mirror to start on your face too, bubbling with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

------

Tags are OPEN, let me know if you want to be added!

‘It’s On!’ Tags:

@alias-b​ @lets-hargroove​ @nottherightseason​ @charmed-asylum​

@proudlittlewitchbitch​ @lunalove4537​ @hargroveswift​ @teddybearbarnes​ 

@simmisblog​ @thebellenouvelle​ @i-seeyouin-her​ @infinitelycharmed23​ 

@jylanlove​ @articlesssssss​ 

[meow-bebe]

Skate Date

Pairing: Stray Kids, Yang Jeongin x reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Minor cussing but you should expect that by now, i swear a lot

Word Count: 1603

Gender: Neutral reader

A/n: Happy late birthday fox boy! I really wanted to post this yesterday but it didn't really happen. Anyway here's this though! Most of the skat terminology is stuff I've picked up from hanging out at the rink a lot and my friend who skates as well as like two things I needed to Google. Sorry the ending is trash, and also it's slightly unedited. But! I passed 1k for the first time! This doesn't seem like a huge achievement but I've only ever managed to write about 600 word before this but it's getting easier now! I'm hoping to write more often so if all goes well you'll see more of me and my overuse of commas in the coming weeks!

~~~

“Come on, Innie!” you called, screeching to a halt in front of the bench where your boyfriend was currently sitting.

“No I don’t think I will,” he said, setting his folded hands on top of the railing separating him from the ice rink, “you look like you’re having fun, and I’ll just slow you down.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you said, “And when has that ever stopped you before? I remember a certain date when you dragged out shopping for so long we didn’t have time to go to the museum and then acted like you didn’t do it on purpose because you think museums are boring.” 

“I didn’t!” he protested, “but that’s beside the point. I’m going to fall on my ass and make a fool of myself and I don’t particularly care to be covered in suspicious looking bruises for dance practice tomorrow.” 

Sighing, you placed your hand on top of his. “Jeongin, everybody falls their first time. I even fall every now and then to this day!” 

“That’s because you have horrible balance,” he retorted, and you scowled at him. 

“My point was that you’ve never been skating before, so of course you’re not going to be great at it your first try. You’ll be okay if you fall, if we’re not going very fast it’s extremely unlikely you’ll get hurt.” You squeezed his hand comfortingly under yours. “And honestly, would you rather have to explain a few inconveniently placed bruises or the fact that you decided to sit here and keep the bench warm and watch me skate for two hours because you were worried you wouldn’t be a world class figure skater the first time you set foot on the ice?” 

You cocked your head saucily, and he grumbled “Fine, I’ll try it,” in response. You offered him your hand, and taking it, he wobbled to his feet. 

“There you go!” you cheered sarcastically, “you’re standing up!” Met with his disgruntled glare, you softened, asking, “Are your skates tight enough? I tried to make sure you got them laced well but we don’t want your ankles wobbling around.” 

“I think they’re okay,” he said, tilting his feet this way and that, “they feel pretty tight.”

Guiding Jeongin towards the exit to the rink, you asked, “Do they wiggle in the skates? You should be able to move your ankles but not inside your skates.” He started moving his ankles again, experimenting to try and figure out what you meant. 

“They feel fine,” he said, just as you brought him to the juncture between the rink and benches. 

“Good!” You took his other hand in yours as well. “Now just step down. Go slow, I’ve got you,” you reassured. Maybe you were going to scold and tease him about his slightly irrational worry of being terrible, but you were also going to do your best to make sure he didn’t have much to worry about. 

“Okay so now that you’re on the ice, you need to find the balance of your skates, or the flat part you can glide best on. Just shift back and forth until you find the place where you can move smoothly.” You helped guide him slightly as he gingerly shifted his weight around. “It’ll probably be farther back than you think, that makes room for the toepick to not scrape against the ice.” 

After a moment, he seemed to have found where he needed to be. “Okay, I think I’ve got it,” he looked up from his skates, “what now?” 

“Now we skate!” you said, letting go of one of his hands and slowly starting to move forward. He seemed to panic for a moment, but soon found a slightly broken and wobbly rhythm beside you. 

“There you go!” you said, grinning happily at him, “you’re moving!”

“Yay,” he said halfheartedly, glancing down at his feet again. “Now, quick question. How does one skate? Cause I’m pretty sure this - ” he demonstrated the way that he was using the toepick to push one foot forward and then gliding a small amount forward before repeating - “isn’t how you do it.”

“No, not quite,” you laughed. “It’s a little bit difficult to explain, but to start you’re going to push off with one foot and glide on the other.” You demonstrated, letting go of Jeongin to skate a small distance in front of him. He shuffled forwards, doing his best to keep his balance and stay within a distance that he could see your small movements. “Once you’ve lost momentum, transfer your weight back to the other foot and glide on that one. Alternate your movements, and you’re skating!” Once again, you followed up your explanation by showing him how to execute the movements, but this time you didn’t stop. You continued to skate forwards for a moment, showing Jeongin how the movements feel when connected before turning around and circling back to your still slightly struggling boyfriend. 

“How are you so good at this?” Jeongin asked, slipping a little and grabbing at the wall to stay upright. 

“Oh Jeongin,” you said, pulling him upright and grasping his hand in yours, “I’ve been skating since I was young. Talent comes with practice.” 

He tentatively pushed forward, and with a nod of encouragement from you, began to shakily glide his way across the ice. 

“There you go!” you exclaimed happily, “You’re doing it!” You tried your best to keep an even pace next to Jeongin, but he kept having to ask you to slow down as you weren’t used to moving at such a slow speed. The two of you made a few rounds of the rink with little accident (you lost your balance and fell over while bending down to retrieve a little girl’s fallen glove as Jeongin laughed at you because you had fallen before he even had the chance) and small conversation was held between bouts of your reminding Jeongin not to propel himself using the toepick. 

“I think I’m going to sit down for a minute,” Jeongin said, turning to skate towards the edge of the rink where the benches are located. “My feet are starting to hurt.” 

“That’s probably a good idea,” you said, beginning to weave through the other skaters surrounding you, Jeongin’s hand still clasped securely in yours. Coming to a stop, you let go of his hand so that Jeongin could hold onto the railing and clamber up into the closed off bench area. 

“Alright,” you said, folding your arms securely across your chest and leaning against the railing, “If you don’t mind I’m going to skate around a little more while you take a break.”

“Please do. You know where to find me,” he said, smiling sweetly at you. “Have fun!” he called after you as you began to skate away. 

“Oh, you know I will!” you called lightheartedly back. 

Jeongin watched as you gained speed, dodging between the other people making their way around the rink, most moving a little slower than you. Upon reaching the corner, you executed a few flawless crossovers, a grace that you could never seem to find off the ice taking your body and propelling you across the ice in smooth, beautiful movements. Jeongin was entranced, eyes tracking your figure as you glided around the rink, lost in the way that your hair ruffled slightly and the excited little grin that lit up your face every time you got your crossovers right. He would have been more than happy to sit there until open skate ended, just watching you skate in endless circles. 

You seemed to have other ideas though, as you cut across the ice, coming to an abrupt halt in front of Jeongin, a spray of shaved ice hitting the wall. 

“Show off,” he said, voice full of affection. 

“You love watching me do stuff like that, admit it.” You leaned onto the railing, bringing your face closer to the boy in front of you. 

“Maybe a little bit,” he teased back.

“Knew it!” you laughed. “Come back out with me, you were doing so well earlier.” 

“I might actually sit here and watch you for the rest of the time. There’s only -” he glanced at the timer counting down the minutes of skate time left - “around fifteen minutes left.” 

“Aww, Jeongin,” you whined, “I didn’t bring you here to watch me skate the whole time.”

“You didn’t bring me here at all,” Jeongin retorted, playful contempt tugging at his voice, “I was the one who suggested this. And for the most part, I just wanted to watch you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “That’s cute, but does this mean that the whole ‘I want to be involved in something that you love’ spiel was a lie?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, grabbing your hand and squeezing it,  “it was. Wobbling around like an idiot isn’t the most fun, but watching you skate is so much better. You’re really good, and opposed to your usual clumsiness -” you slapped at his shoulder lightly in mock irritation - “you’re really graceful and beautiful and it’s amazing to watch.” 

His compliments flustered you, but instead of letting him know that, you just tugged at his hand. “Come on, let’s go skate again.” Jeongin relented after a moment of encouragement (which he would call harassment) and the two of you were soon back out on the ice, hands twined together as you skated backwards, dragging a giggling, wobbly Jeongin behind you. No matter how much he argued and denied that he was having fun, Jeongin was really enjoying himself, both just watching you and skating himself. 

[ickle-ronniekins]

friendlier, friendliest, george x reader

request: from anon: hi!! idk if you are accepting requests, it’s totally fine if you don’t do it, but maybe a George x reader with the prompts “you’re on thin ice” and “maybe if we were alone”? tysm!! | omg OF COURSE

prompt: “you’re on thin ice” / “maybe if we were alone”

warnings: the only warning i have for y’all is pure astonishment since i’m writing again!!! not sure how long this inspiration will last but i am here for it so we shall see! to the anon who messaged me: thank you for your own prompts and i am so sorry this is so late :( i haven’t written much on here in the last two years or so and sometimes i have spurts of inspiration but most times i don’t lol. but i am taking advantage of this bout of inspo so if you see this post - THIS IS FOR YOU! <3

Potions Classroom

“You’re on thin ice, Georgie,” I said sternly, but as usual, he let it roll right off his shoulders and he just laughed at me. “Wafer thin ice.”

The potions classroom was dark, dull, and smelly, as it always was. Professor Snape was making his way around the room, observing everyone’s potions and time was ticking very, very slowly. Behind me, the Weasley twins were busy pretending to be working, but instead, they were taking turns driving me absolutely bloody mad. Potions was my least favorite of all of my classes—Professor Snape made me extremely tense and the classroom gave me the creeps—and those silly boys knew it. Each time I turned towards the other side of my desk for another ingredient, I’d turn back to see fake spiders crawling into my cauldron, or one of the boys dropping bits of a wrong ingredient so as to make my potion turn a wrong color and send me into panic—anything to make me jump and get in trouble with Professor Snape.

I ducked down, keeping a strict eye on my cauldron, and grabbed a flask underneath my desk. I was sure they hadn’t done anything, but suddenly, I saw a tiny little frog hop from the edge of my desk straight into my perfectly brewed potion. Before I could catch it, I yelled out, “No!” The whole class, including Professor Snape, turned my way and my potion exploded in a depressing, slimy yellow color, all over my desk and robes. Everyone was silent under the laughter. Behind me, I heard George say, “Huh...only needed one frog. Who’d have known?”

“WEASLEY! Y/N!” Professor Snape suddenly yelled. I wiped the dripping potion away from my face and turned towards him. Next to me, George could not seem to contain his laughter, and I shot him a look. On his desk, another tiny frog let out a ribbet. “Detention, both of you!”

“But Professor—” I tried.

“Enough of this!” Snape was angered. “Detention, tonight—do not be late. I have nothing against adding more detention and taking more house points. Clean this up. NOW.”

I immediately shut my mouth, but George still could not take anything seriously. When Snape walked away, he leaned over and said to me, “Hey, at least the potions color matches your robes—”

“I swear to Merlin, Weasley, no funny business tonight. You’ve already been driving me bloody mad.”

George took a rag from the middle table and began to remove some of the excess potion from his robes. “We’ll see about that.”

Hufflepuff Common Room, Later that evening

A shower, a change, and four classes later, and my detention was almost here. I watched from the Hufflepuff common room as the snow fell lightly outside, and I wished I could be out there instead of being stuck in a dark, dingy Potions classroom cleaning out unwashed cauldrons with George Weasley.

“He got you so good,” M/F/N said, giggling from across the room in front of the fireplace. She was sipping on some tea and flipping through the pages of a book.

I stood up and slipped on my shoes. “Don’t look so thrilled for me, M/F/N,”

“Oh come on,” she laughed. Students had been filtering in and out, but now, it seemed to be quiet. “You two have been at this for years.”

“At what? Trying to outmess one another? Sure, have been since the first time I met those two pranksters on the Hogwarts express. But they’ve been out of control lately, driving me up the bloody wall,” I pulled my long hair up into a ponytail and placed my hands on my hips when I saw the smirk coming from M/F/N. “What?” I asked smugly.

She shook her head and took a sip of her tea. “No, not “outmessing” one another. Don’t you maybe think maybe he’s been teasing you extra often because he’s rather fond of you? You know...in that way?”

I was so stunned I could barely speak. Before I knew it, I was laughing and I said to her, “How old are we, ten? There’s absolutely no bloody way. You’re out of your mind.”

Sipping her tea once more with a sense of entitlement, she said to me, “Whatever you say, Y/N.”

The Great Hall, Dinner

Dinner was nearly over and my bout of happiness seemed to be dwindling down, as well. Within moments, I’d be in the Potions classroom for my detention, a long and full three and a half hours. I placed my head on the table and groaned.

“Chin up, mate,” M/F/N said. “It’ll be over before you know it. It might even be...enjoyable.”

I rolled my eyes even though she couldn’t see. “Oh would you cut it out?”

Just then, Fred and George made their way over to the Hufflepuff table and I immediately put my guard up. “Don’t even think about touching me, Weasley, the night hasn’t even started yet and you’re already on my last nerve.” George went to poke my ribs and him and his twin were giggling like crazy, along with M/F/N, who tried her hardest to hide it.

“Well, maybe if we were alone, you’d realize you actually like it,” George said to me and winked. He and Fred began to make ghost noises. “See you soooooooon,”

M/F/N nearly choked on her drink as the twins made their way out of the Great Hall and I turned towards her. “If we were alone? Merlin’s Beard, he’s got it bad. Tonight is the night where you guys go from friends, to friendlier, to friendliest,”

I rolled my eyes once again and stood up to exit the Great Hall. “You haven't a clue what you’re on about.” I bid her farewell and made my way towards the doors, heart pounding and head filled with confusing thoughts.

Potions Classroom, Detention

The minute we walked into the Potions classroom and Professor Snape left us there, I’d made some ground rules. No speaking, no laughing, and we were to be at other ends of the room so as not to disturb one another.

George laughed as I walked to my side. “Oh come on, Y/N. We’re best friends—”

“Not this week, we’re not. You’ve been nothing but rude. No more talking.” I looked at him and smirked, but still kept my distance.

“We’re always teasing one another, always trying to out prank the other. You seriously expect me to think you’re actually upset with me?”

I glanced at George, who had started to scrub the inside of a large cauldron sat on top of a desk. “Mhmm,” I told him, and went back to my own work. “We always agreed that pranking in class was off limits, and this year, you disobeyed the rules.”

“Well, I think that rules are meant to be broken. And also, pranking in class is what makes it fun and rebellious. Where’s your adventurous side?”

I placed my hand on my hip and looked up at him. “My adventurous side got me stuck cleaning cauldrons in my least favorite room in the entire world.”

George grinned. Suddenly there was a hissing sound from one of the cabinets and what sounded like footsteps outside the classroom door. I shivered and continued to clean. “Yeah, but at least you’re here with me. Could be worse, right?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I s’pose, it could. I’m invoking that rule again—no talking.” We may be friends, but I wanted to get through this detention as quickly and as painlessly as possible. George put his hands up in surrender, and I started on the next cauldron and found a huge cobweb that was blocking me from cleaning the inside. Afraid of what might be in there, I blew gently on the cobweb and a huge spider crawled out quickly and ran underneath the potions cabinet in the far corner of the room. I screamed and jumped back, placed my hand over my rapidly beating heart, and listened to George laugh. “And to think, M/F/N said this may actually be an enjoyable evening...just wait until I tell her about that.”

“Enjoyable, you say?” George asked once he gained his composure. “Why did she say that?”

Feeling brave enough to dive back in, I began to clean my second cauldron of the evening, making sure with the light of my wand that there were no surprises left in there. “M/F/N seemed to think that tonight would be fun for us. She kept on telling me that you tease me for a reason, George, which as I told her is because the two of us have always done that, haven’t we? We’ve always pranked one another, ever since we were little kids on the train here. I dunno, she kept telling me that you’re fond of me, in that way,” I waved it off and laughed to myself.

“Would that be so bad?” George said matter-of-factly. I glanced up—he was still cleaning and wasn’t looking at me, but I could see a smirk forming in the corner of his mouth.

“What’re you on about?”

“Would that be so bad?” George said again, “You know...if I was fond of you, in that way.” The mockery in his voice was so irritating, but as per usual, he was just trying to get under my skin. He ran his hands under the water in the sink next to his desk and made his way over to me. I stopped cleaning at once, unsure of what exactly was about to happen. I tried to find my words. “I, uh—”

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. Of course I knew the way he felt. I suppose I’d just ignored it, or pretended it was because we were such good friends. “Since when?”

“Since when? Since always,” he said. He stopped across from me, the desk in between us both, and plopped his hands down, making my cauldron shift a little. “I thought I’ve been pretty obvious about my feelings.”

His eyes were sparkling now, but his smirk was firm and jaw was rigid. I asked him in a very solemn voice, “You really want to do this?”

His smile grew and he said to me, “Yeah, love, I do.” Then he stood up straight and rolled his shirt sleeves to his elbows. He said to me seriously, “But not tonight. We’ve got a lot of work to do. Besides, Y/N, no funny business.” And then he winked.

He let out a laugh and made his way back to his desk while I, on the other hand, tried to catch my breath. Trying to meet his calm demeanor, I went back to casually cleaning, glanced up at him ever so slightly, and snapped back with, “Well, I guess we’ll see about that.”

[ranwing]

Kadam Fic: Learning To Fly (18/?)

Title: Learning to Fly Series: A New Direction (was Season Four Remix) Pairing(s), Characters(s): Kadam, Kurt Hummel, Adam Crawford, Burt Hummel, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Carmen Tibideaux, Cassandra July, Artie Abrams, Tina Cohen-Chang, Elliot “Starchild” Gilbert, Dani, Adam’s Apples, Original Characters Rating: PG13 (rating may change) Genre(s): canon divergence. Parts: 18/?

Summary: As another school year starts at NYADA, Kurt seemed to have it all. The respect of his teachers, a group of wonderful friends and best of all, getting to live with the man that he’d come to love. So of course the universe would throw a few curve balls in his direction.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen

One AO3

A/N -  I'd like to both thank and apologize to all of my readers for the long delay in getting this chapter completed. I'd unfortunately been delayed by both a bout of writer's block and having surgery last month which set my plans to write back considerably. Thank you all for the wonderful comments and words of encouragement! I'm grateful to all of you for sticking with me.

Morning arrived with its usual clarion from Kurt’s cell phone alarm ringing at six, rousing him from sleep and reminding him that he had day filled with activities to get through awaiting him. Pushing off the sheets that had gotten wrapped about him during the night, Kurt sat at the edge of his bed and gave his body a long stretch to work out the sleep stiffness before getting to his feet.

With the semester starting to wind down, the students at NYADA were being put through the meat grinder by their instructors. Freshmen might have had the assumption that after all the work done on their spring musical that the professors might take it a bit easier on the upper classmen, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. The more that he and his classmates manage to prove themselves, the more their teachers demanded. Kurt figured that by the time he graduated, Madam Tibideaux would expect him to be able to climb to the top of Mount Everest while singing an aria from Rigoletto in full voice the whole way up.

Well, this was what he signed up for, he reminded himself with a self-administered mental slap upside the head. And if he didn’t dawdle too much, he had enough time to go for a run and burn off some of the cake that he and the Apples had gorged on the night before. That would leave him just enough time to shower before his morning classes. But first things first…

Kurt couldn’t help from smiling as he studied the map pinned over his desk, seeing the wave of blue pins stretching across the image of the United States. Each marked a city where Adam had performed; cities where his play had met with critical regard and where his reputation as an actor continued to grow. Kurt no longer looked at that map with dread, facing it as a reminder of just how long it would before Adam was returned to him. Now it was a confirmation of just how much his lover had been able to accomplish.

With only one lone red pin left, it was also a reminder that Adam would be home right around the time that Kurt was finishing his finals. The feeling of disassociation was being replaced by one of happy anticipation and now they both had plans for their shared future to look forward to.

Butcher’s Bill had just wrapped up its run in Seattle and Kurt had happily marked the occasion with a triumphant blue push pin. Now a solitary red pin marked the final city of the national tour and if they hadn’t run into any delays, Adam would be leaving Seattle for San Diego by midday. That would allow Kurt to exchange that last red pin for a green one, signaling that the tour was nearing its conclusion.

It felt oddly thrilling that he could now legitimately count down the days without being overwhelmed by their sheer number. That his perspective has shifted from only being able to see how long he would be apart from Adam to actively anticipating the day of their reunion. He could look at his calendar now and actually see the day that Adam would be returning to New York, just over four weeks away.

There was a lot that still needed to be ironed out for them. They didn’t have an apartment so finding a place to live was going to be first on their agenda. Kurt could stay in the dorms through the summer if necessary, and he would be spending a few weeks at Garrison during the festival. If he had to leave the dorms for some reason, he knew that could spend a few days at a hostel until he and Adam got an apartment lined up. After all, that’s what he did when he first arrived in New York with nothing more than his suitcases and his dreams. It hadn’t been so bad, and it would be a lot cheaper than a hotel until they got settled.

He was more concerned for Adam, who would be effectively homeless after the tour ended. If they didn’t have something lined up by the time Adam returned to New York, Kurt knew that Adam had friends with sofas that he could crash on until they signed a lease, and he also could room at a hostel for a few days if needed.

Still, finding a place would have to be a priority for them. They were in this together and would see it through.

For all his tendencies to try to control and micromanage every detail, he had his greatest successes when he threw caution to the wind. Whether it was his impromptu audition, challenging Rachel to Midnight Madness or letting himself accept the flirtatious overtures from a handsome Englishman, each time he’d let his carefully crafted defenses fall he’d been rewarded beyond anything he could have hoped for.

He would have faith that he and Adam would get their practical affairs sorted out relatively quickly. Kurt didn’t care if he and Adam found themselves living in another closet-sized apartment for a year or had to leave the neighborhood where he’d felt so at home in. He just wanted for them to be together.

After tying on his running shoes, Kurt plugged in his headphones and trotted downstairs to get in the exercise that his body very much was craving. By the time he returned a bit over an hour later, Kurt was feeling much refreshed with his head cleared of the usual morning cobwebs. He stopped by his room to grab his robe and toiletries and walked down the hall to the communal showers.

A half hour later found him in the dorm break room, reading through some notes he had jotted down for his stage movement class and eating his yogurt when he spotted one of Madam Tibideaux’s assistants enter the lounge and look about. This wasn’t unusual when the Dean wanted to catch a residential student before classes started, though he did feel a trace of concern when she approached him.

“Good morning Kurt,” she greeted pleasantly. “Sorry to disturb your breakfast, but the Dean would like for you to stop by her office this morning after your lesson with Professor Collins. There’s something that she needs to discuss with you.”

No, that didn’t sound good, Kurt thought though for the life of him he couldn’t think of anything that he might have done to warrant a call to the office. All of his classes were going well, and he’d been getting nothing more than positive feedback from Madam Tibideaux during his last few sessions with her.

“Is there something wrong?” he couldn’t help from asking. This wasn’t something he needed at this moment.

The assistant just smiled, clearly aware that most students naturally assumed that being summoned to the office didn’t mean anything good. “No, not at all,” she assured him. “The Dean has a guest coming in and she wants you to join them. It’s one of NYADA’s big sponsors and she likes to show off her favored talents.”

Kurt nodded, feeling a sense of relief that he wasn’t going to be called out on the carpet over something. But being invited to meet a sponsor could mean something serious for his career prospects and he needed to make a good impression. That meant a quick touch up to his post run grooming and a change of clothes to something a bit more polished.

His morning session with Professor Collins went well, the genial teacher putting him through his paces as he showed off the greater flexibility he’d been developing in his voice. He was smiling when he left the studio, his teacher’s praise raising his spirits and putting him in a good mind to meet this sponsor. If Madam Tibideaux wanted him there, he should be confident that it was something that he was up to.

Kurt paused at the bathroom, checking his appearance one last time before heading to the dean’s office. Madam Tibideaux’s assistant was seated at her desk outside and smiled and Kurt’s approach. “You’re just in time,” she greeted, rising from her chair to greet him. “Let me just poke my head inside to make sure they’re ready for you.”

Kurt smiled and nodded, waiting patiently for her to get permission for him to enter the office. He took the opportunity to smooth out any imaginary wrinkles on his shirt before he was granted admittance. He thanked Madam Tibideaux’s assistant politely as she ushered him in and closed the door behind him before facing his teacher.

“Good morning, Madam,” he greeted politely. “I hope that I’m not late.”

The Dean placed down the cup of tea she’d been daintily sipping from and offered him an encouraging smile. “Not at all, Mr. Hummel,” she assured him. “You’re right on time. How was your session with Professor Collins?”

Kurt couldn’t resist smiling. “It went well,” he insisted confidently. “I’m feeling much more confidence in transitioning through my entire range.”

“Excellent,” Madam Tibideaux said, looking quite pleased at his pronouncement. “I’m looking forward to testing that in our next lesson.

The person seated in the chair with it’s back to the office door turned in her seat and Kurt felt his breath seize at the sight of her cap of short red hair and a wryly arched eyebrow raised. June Dolloway looked him up and down as she had at the gala, her thin lips drawing into a smile that appeared far too predatory for comfort.

“Mr. Hummel,” she greeted, more than a trace of challenge in her voice as she held up a slender hand to him.

Kurt quickly forced himself to rally, pasting a pleasant if bland expression on his face and reaching out to gently shake the older woman’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again,” he claimed as sincerely as he could manage.

She just snorted, clearly not believing him. “No one is pleased to see me,” she admitted with a sharp grin, picking up her teacup. “But they act like they are because I have an obscene amount of money and I like to throw it at what suits my whims. That makes everyone polite.”

Kurt couldn’t help from admiring her honesty and lack of caring that she was more feared than admired. There was something refreshing about that kind of clear-eyed perspective. That didn’t mean that he was dropping his guard at all around her, because he suspected that she would happily eat him alive if he gave her the least opportunity.

“Have a seat, Mr. Hummel,” Madam Tibideaux offered, clearly set in her role of mediator. “Mrs. Dolloway wanted to meet you again. She was quite taken with your performance.”

Kurt smiled blandly as he settled into the offered chair. He remembered her comments at their first meeting and while they might have been compliments technically, he didn’t miss the insults that were barely hidden in her words. But he trusted Madam Tibideaux not to steer him into a situation that he would end up regretting.

Mrs. Dolloway’s expression was schooled into a neutral pleasantness, but Kurt could tell that she was watching and testing him. To see if her comments that could easily be interrupted as affronts got a response. Kurt was determined not to let her win this little meeting.

“I always do like to keep an eye on performers that interest me,” Mrs. Dolloway reminded him, the barest hint of threat in her tone. “I found you to be very intriguing. You have a unique presence on stage and I’m sure that you know how unusual your voice is.”

Kurt allowed himself to smile. “I’ve been told that once or twice,” he confirmed a bit ironically.

She pursed her lips thoughtfully at how he didn’t seem intimidated by her. “I find it utter fascinating to see someone who doesn’t seem to fit neatly in a conventional mold manage to play those parts so well. Normally they’re so focused on showing how unique they are that they make themselves unemployable.”

The warning in her tone was unmistakable and Kurt already knew exactly how to counter it. “Maybe. But I also feel that being so unique lets me stand out from everyone else,” he insisted confidently. “A countertenor whose range can cover traditional tenor roles is going to be remembered. And some composers and directors will get a chance to take advantage of what I’m able to do that others can’t.”

Mrs. Dolloway’s expression lightened a bit, as if pleased that he wasn’t cowed by her demeanor. Madam Tibideaux nodded in approval at her student and added, “One of the things that we’ve been working on is developing Mr. Hummel’s singular talents while still making him as marketable as possible. I think that going by his success in Les Misérables and his performances at the Garrison festival, we’re on the right track.”

“I haven’t been to Garrison in years,” Mrs. Dolloway mused. “Is that old coot, Tillman, still running things?”

Kurt managed not to laugh, thinking that Mrs. Dolloway should be the last person in the world to call someone old. “Yes, he’s still directing,” he confirmed. “We’re doing ‘A Midsummer Nights Dream’ and ‘Troilus and Cresida’ this season.”

Mrs. Dolloway looked at him pointedly. “And what were you cast as?” she asked pointedly, her tone clearly issuing a challenge.

Kurt smiled proudly. “Well, last season I played Don John which was really exciting as it was my first summer with the festival. This year I’m Puck and Patroclus,” he stated confidently. “I’m rather looking forward to doing another nice dramatic death and putting my stage combat to practical use.”

The sponsor seemed almost impressed. “Well, there certainly does seem to be a lot more to you than pretty hair and a flashy wardrobe,” she granted, a trifle reluctantly in Kurt’s opinion. “I suppose that you’re wondering why I wanted to meet you today.”

“The question did cross my mind,” Kurt answered back, allowing a bit of fight coming out in his voice. He wasn’t inclined to give an inch, no matter how influential Mrs. Dolloway could be.

She just smiled, amused by his show of spirit. “I mentioned a showcase that I’m organizing when we met at the gala,” she reminded him.

Kurt nodded, indicating that he’d remembered. “When I didn’t hear anything, I just thought you’d changed your mind about me participating,” he said blandly, making it clear that he hadn’t been bothered by being omitted.

If Mrs. Dolloway was offended by his lack of interest in her connections, she didn’t show it. “Well, to be honest, I was vacillating between inviting you or not,” she admitted without a trace of shame.

Kurt managed to refrain from rolling his eyes. Of course, she did.

“The showcase is scheduled next week to benefit scheduled for next week to support the Lexington Home for Retired Performers. It’s an old age home for film and stage actors,” she explained, her tone becoming more matter of fact. “I’d scheduled a number of top students from various theater programs to perform, but one of the Julliard seniors flacked out on me. Something about a nervous breakdown…”

Kurt couldn’t help from arching a brow in response.

Mrs. Dolloway looked at him pointedly. “So now I have a hole in our performance schedule that I need to fill,” she huffed. “I was thinking ‘why not give that high voiced kid a shot’.”

Kurt didn’t respond immediately, not quite sure how he wanted to take her invitation. It was hardly worded in a flattering way and while he wasn’t offended that he wasn’t among her first choices for the benefit, he wasn’t sure if the performer who dropped out really did have some kind of breakdown or if he just wanted to get away from this difficult patron.

He mentally sighed, wishing that he could beg off with rehearsals or work for the festival, but she would be able to ferret out pretty quickly what his rehearsal schedule was. Being caught in a lie would just reflect badly on him.

“This can be an interesting opportunity,” Madam Tibideaux advised, seeing his reluctance. “Many of the residents of the home were quite renowned performers in their day. You can learn a great deal by speaking with them.

“And the home really is a great asset to our community. Sadly, it’s not uncommon for actors to be left with little financial support as they age. This facility allows them a safe and dignified place during their golden years.”

Kurt didn’t doubt her, and it sounded like the exact sort of charity that he would want to support. It was indeed a worthy cause and might just be worth the effort of dealing with Mrs. Dolloway for one day.

He looked to the older woman, who was watching him with a cool, calculating stare. “I’d be happy to help,” he claimed, smiling with all the charm he could muster. “It does sound like a wonderful cause.”

Mrs. Dolloway genuinely seemed surprised that he agreed to the invitation and Kurt rather enjoyed putting her back on her expensive heels a bit. He didn’t get as far as he has by letting small minded fools stand in his way. Even if he gained nothing personally, he would be pleased to help the elderly actors have a comfortable retirement.

She finally nodded, looking a little impressed despite herself. “Good,” she granted with no trace of reluctance in her voice, and Kurt couldn’t help from thinking that he just won this little confrontation. “I’ll let Carmen know the details. I’m fairly certain that you’ll be able to come up with two numbers that would be appropriate for the occasion.”

“I will,” he assured her self-assuredly. He was already making a mental list of potential material.

“Then I will see you next week.”

Mrs. Dolloway turned back to Madam Tibideaux and placed her teacup on the desk. “Carmen, it’s been a pleasure, as always.”

When the Dean began to push her chair back to get up, Mrs. Dolloway raised her hand to stop her. “Oh, don’t bother… I can show myself out,” she insisted blandly. She turned one last look to Kurt and nodded in his direction before walking out and closing the door behind her.

Once she had left the room, Kurt allowed himself a sigh of relief and couldn’t help from wondering just what he was letting himself in for. His teacher seemed just as relieved to have her troublesome visitor leave and turned a satisfied smile to him.

“I know that she’s a bit of a character,” Madam Tibideaux granted. “But she really can be an excellent sponsor. She’s helped launch a number of careers and she’s been a tremendous financial support for our school.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Kurt insisted. “But I get the feeling that her favor can be a double-edged sword.”

Madam Tibideaux chuckled at his clear-eyed view of the matter. “I’m not going to disagree with you,” she confided. “The ones who often run our profession are the wealthy. Whether they invest in productions or patronize the ballet and opera, performers have to decide for themselves how to navigate their influence. I know this is difficult, but I think that you would gain a lot more from this experience than Mrs. Dolloway will get in bragging rights since you’ve already technically been discovered.”

Kurt knew that his teacher was taking pleasure in that respect and wouldn’t begrudge her the honors. “I just want to make sure that I perform at a level where I won’t stand out in a negative way,” he said. “It’s rather on short notice.”

“Mr. Hummel, in all the months that I’ve known you I’ve never seen you fail to rise to the occasion.If I might offer my suggestions,” she proposed with a reassuring smile, earning an enthusiastic nod from her student. “For this crowd, I would stick to something classic. Using a song from the era that many of the home’s residents were active would be well received. There are certainly enough songs that take advantage of your natural range and your unique vocal qualities.”

That made a lot of sense, Kurt thought. And he suspected that Mrs. Dolloway’s tastes would lean towards the classical. He could work with that.

“I would also like to offer some advice,” Madam Tibideaux said carefully, and Kurt looked up at his teacher intently because he trusted her judgment.

“I know that June Dolloway can be difficult to deal with, and you shouldn’t feel obligated to accept her as a sponsor just because you agreed to perform at the benefit. Even if she offers,” the dean advised. “She does have a certain amount of influence. She built up a substantial bit of wealth from her various marriages and she has a lot of connections in the business, though how seriously she can be taken seriously is open to debate.”

“Then why is she one of NYADA’s biggest donors?” Kurt asked curiously. “If she’s that out there?”

The Dean offered him a confiding smile. “Because she is willing to help support our school financially. It’s sometimes worth it for me to humor her if it opens up her checkbook, but I know what I can and should expect from her. I always warn my students who catch her eye to be very cautious in how they deal with her. Yes, she can open a lot of doors for you. But she also can be very fickle, and I’ve seen her drop proteges as abruptly as she picks them up.”

Kurt nodded in understanding, recognizing that he would need to manage this opportunity with the same care that he did the options that Coach Sylvester presented. If he could gain Mrs. Dolloway’s respect, he might be able to take advantage of her connections while not putting himself in her debt. He knew that he had enough challenges in his path without having his career controlled by someone who looked down on him in any way.

He met up with Rachel and their friends for lunch, needing their support and feedback. “I want to do this,” Kurt insisted over pizza. “It’s a really good cause, but I really don’t want anything to do with that Dolloway woman. I think that I’d just be setting myself up for trouble.”

Rachel reached out and grasped his hand in solidarity. “I think you could handle her,” she claimed, having seen her friend outsmart and manipulate people to his own ends many times before.

“Kurt, you always could just do the show and call it quits,” Analisa reminded her friend. “There’s no law that says just because you’ve agreed to perform one time that you owe her anything more. Just take advantage of getting seen a bit more.”

Kurt nodded but insisted, “I just don’t want to make any enemy of her. I get the feeling that she can really go out of her way to screw me over if I offend her in some way.”

Jamie took a big bite of his pepperoni and mushroom slice and chewed thoughtfully. “She reminds of a director I had at arts camp when I was a kid. It was obvious to everyone that she had her favorites and would go to the ends of the earth for you. Until you weren’t one of her favorites anymore. Then you might as well not exist.”

“Is everyone in our industry crazy?” Katya asked. “I mean, it would be nice just perform and not have to deal with people in charge with attitudes like that.”

“I feel like it’s some kind of test,” Kurt bemoaned. “Like Mrs. Dolloway is setting me up to fail.”

“So, don’t fail,” Rachal said logically, as if it were truly that simple. “Kurt, you don’t need us to tell you how good you are. Just treat this as a chance to perform and do what you know you can do. You don’t owe her anything more than that.”

Kurt looked to his group, yet again grateful that he’d managed to find such a wonderful collection of supportive friends.

Analisa looked to her favorite duet partner and offered a bright smile. “Mind if we tag along for moral support?” she asked.

Mrs. Dolloway hadn’t mentioned anything about him bringing guests, but Kurt didn’t see the harm. He’d feel a lot better having a few friendly faces in the audience.

“I’d love you guys to be there,” he said. “I’m not going to hoard the chance to mingle and network.”

Kayta reached out to pinch his cheek. “So generous,” she praised.

Kurt playfully swatted her hand away, earning a round of laughter from his friends. Relieved that he wouldn’t be facing Mrs. Dolloway without some reinforcements at his back, he looked thankfully at his friends.

“I really appreciate this, guys,” he said sincerely. “But let’s dig in… this pizza isn’t going to eat itself.”

* * *

Adam looked at the theater marquee, feeling both a great sense of pride and a tremendous wash of relief. Their final opening for the national tour was just a few short days away. After this, it would be a countdown until they all were able to return home.

He hadn’t quite known what to expect from this job, but it had been both tremendously fulfilling and harder than he could have ever imagined. Still, despite how painful as his separation from Kurt had been, he honestly wouldn’t trade the experience he’d gained. He was learning a great deal more about himself as an actor and Adam knew that the connections he’d made and the regard he’d earned would serve him well in the future.

He walked over to the stage door, greeting the security guard pleasantly before being admitted and directed towards the dressing rooms. This was probably the largest venue that they’d performed in to date and with the relatively small cast, he’d only be sharing the dressing room with Niall. The racks with their costumes were already in place, the costumes wrapped neatly in plastic to protect them during the shipping process.

It would be nice to have the extra space and a bit of relative privacy, Adam considered as he set down his makeup kit and began to organize the dressing table to his liking. He pulled out a folder containing the photos that he would want to have close at hand. Some of them were getting a little battered from their months long journey around the country but were all the more precious to him as a result. There were his parents, who had never failed to support his aspirations and one with his big sister posing with a shaggy rescue pony. He had a photo of his Apples, taken as their last get together before he left on the tour and most importantly, one of his Kurt to be placed in a spot of honor so that Adam could see him at all times.

Adam smiled and couldn’t resist tracing the outline of Kurt’s features with his fingertip. He missed his lovely boy so much and couldn’t wait to see him again. So much had happened for the both of them and he was eager to see his young man having grown into the potential that Adam knew that Kurt possessed from the start. He had always known that Kurt was an exceptional being, both as a performer and as a man and now it appeared that the rest of the world was starting to catch on as well. He was looking forward to seeing how Kurt was handling the real recognition of his worth.

These final weeks of Butcher’s Bill was setting Adam on the course for his career and he knew that Kurt was likewise taking concrete steps towards his own. All of this was worthwhile, Adam told himself. They had so much to look forward to and Adam was never more confident that they would be facing their future together.

He had a few hours before their director would be arriving for their afternoon run-through. That should leave him a bit of time to relax and maybe do a bit of sightseeing with his friends. Now that the end of the road was clearly within sight, he found his normal optimism and good spirits returning in full.

Making one last check that he had everything that he needed, he stepped out of the theater into the bright sunlight. The anxiety that he’d felt for so long was finally easing and he looked forward to the challenges that these final weeks of the tour would present. For once, he felt more than ready.

* * *

“You look fantastic,” Rachel assured him as Kurt checked the lay of his tie for what was likely the nineteenth time in her estimation. She gently took his hands and forced them down to halt his fussing.

“Are you sure?” he asked, checking his outfit once again to make sure that the creases on his designer slacks were pressed straight and his shoes were polished to a gleaming finish. Rather than giving into his first instinct to wear one of his more conservative outfits, he’d decided to go with something that was truer to his personality. The bold herringbone pattern of his dress pants tailored to fit the line of his body perfectly and drew attention to his best assets while the button-down shirt had just enough stretch that he could wear it tight enough to take advantage of his shoulders. His hair had been freshly cut and styled, the sides neat and the top combed into a tall crest.

“It’s fine,” she promised with a warm smile. “You’re not nervous, are you? This kind of performance is right up your alley.”

Kurt sighed, knowing that he was being silly. Maybe his choice of material was a little ambitious, but he was confident in his abilities to handle it.

He knew what the issue was, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Mrs. Dolloway’s opinion of him still rankled. He didn’t know if she was actually homophobic or just enjoyed needling people where they might be vulnerable, but he was really put off by her attitude. If it hadn’t been for the cause that this showcase would be benefiting and Madam Tibideaux’s show of support, he didn’t know if it was worthwhile to put himself through this.

There were eight students performing, and he was one of three representing NYADA. Most of the others were from Julliard, and he could certainly admire their talents. These were students primarily focused on classical technique, with a good number of them on track for professional opera or recording artist careers. He was suddenly quite grateful for Madam Tibideaux insisting on him focusing on classical technique in his own development. He should be able to hold his own with a group like this.

He also couldn’t argue that Mrs. Dolloway wasn’t throwing a lot of money at this event. She’d rented out the Studio 54 theater space, setting it up like a nightclub venue with tables and seats arranged about the stage. There was plenty of room for the various guests and donors attending, but tables situated closest to the stage were dedicated to the residents of the actor’s home. The elderly performers had turned out in their best clothing, apparently eager for the outing and looking forward to seeing what the younger generation had to offer.

Kurt’s own friends were seated towards the back, and he was grateful for their presence. He hadn’t expected to find so many good friends at NYADA but felt very privileged to have done so. Between his classmates and the Apples, he had a solid base of support in New York. That his relationships didn’t boil down to nothing but rivals that would cheerfully kneecap him any chance they got had come as a deep relief for him.

Deep inside, Kurt felt a bit of a thrill that he would be standing on a Broadway stage, even if it wasn’t an actual Broadway production. Not that it looked much like a proper theater, but he knew the names of the famous actors who’d performed in that venue. Knowing that his small contribution to the history of this newer theater filled him with a sense of pride.

Rachel leaned up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, careful not to get any lipstick on him. “I’m going to go join the others,” she said, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “I’ll see you when you’re done.”

He nodded and offered his friend a thankful smile. “Rachel… thanks for coming today.”

She just grinned back. “Did you ever think that I would miss this?” she chuckled. “Break a leg!”

Left alone, Kurt moved to join the other performers, grateful that for once he didn’t feel completely out of his element. The two NYADA students were performers that he’d become very familiar with over the past months, having worked them during their run of Les Miserables. He wasn’t at all surprised that Mrs. Dolloway had invited Brett Sosa, given that he had the classic good looks and honey-smooth tenor that would appeal to a broad audience. He was a bit surprised that she’d invited the young woman who’d played Cosette rather than the more dynamic singers for Eponine and Fantine. But Abigail Thomas was gifted with one of the most gorgeous soprano voices that Kurt head ever heard, and he knew that she would make the audience very pleased.

He greeted them cheerfully, glad to have some familiar faces in the group. “I was wondering who Mrs. Dolloway would wrangle from NYADA,” he said confidingly. “I should have figured that you two would be her top picks.”

Brett gave him a warm pat on the back. “Good to see you, Kurt,” he greeted happily. “We were wondering ourselves since she was being so damned closed mouthed about things.

Abigail nodded in agreement. “I’m trying to figure out why I’m here since everyone knows she never sponsors women,” she complained lightly with a knowing smirk. “She likes to go after men who remind her of one of her husbands.”

Kurt couldn’t help from laughing. “I wonder which of them I remind her of,” he mused amusedly. “Because he must have really pissed her off at some point.”

Brett chuckled in response. “Madam Tibideaux did warn me that she was a character,” he advised. “But she can open doors and if she can get me in front of the right people, it might be worth it. I’ve been hitting auditions and I really need to nail down some work after graduation.”

“Me too,” Abigail sighed. “You’re lucky, Kurt. You probably aren’t facing the same kind of pressure just yet.”

No, he wasn’t, Kurt acknowledged to himself. But he had his own pressure to deal with. It didn’t pass his notice that, yet again, he was the least conventional performer in the room. Even so, he wasn’t going to allow that to bother him. He was looking forward to showing off his mettle against the kind of tenors and baritones that they audience expected to see and the song he’d chosen for the occasion would make the most of his full range as a singer.

Maybe it was petty and even a bit counterproductive, but he was looking forward to seeing Mrs. Dolloway’s self-satisfied smirk vanish when she realized that he wasn’t going to crumble in front of her. He wasn’t just going to match what the other students were able to do; he was going to be the best on that stage.

Mrs. Dolloway swept into the backstage area, dressed in a pale grey Chanel suit and Kurt judged that the jewelry she was sporting that looked like it could probably cover all the students’ rent for the next three years. She looked over the group and offered a smile that held nothing in the way of genuine warmth. Like all the interactions that Kurt had with her up until this point, her expression was predatory and slightly contemptuous of everyone she came across. He couldn’t help from wondering if she actually liked any of the prospects that she sponsored, of if she just enjoyed jerking their chains as she dangled prospects and possibilities  before them.

“I’m so glad to see you all,” she greeted benignly, if not with any great sincerity. “Before we get started, I wanted to thank you for supporting this very worthy cause. We’ve got a good-sized crowd and I’ve got them well primed for you. I certainly hope that that you all perform at the level I’ve come to expect from students of your caliber.”

None of the students missed the threat in her carefully chosen words, that whatever support they might hope for with this patron would evaporate if they didn’t perform at their best. Of what they could expect if their best was judged not good enough.

A few of the students looked genuinely nervous and Kurt suspected that at least a few of them sincerely wanted to gain Mrs. Dolloway’s support for their careers. He felt himself smile a little bit, relaxing when he realized that he honestly didn’t much care if the arrogant woman liked him at all. He just wanted to perform well for his audience, especially the elderly actors who deserved to have a pleasant afternoon. And for his friends who were so supportive of him. He didn’t want to disappoint them.

From their position offstage, he could hear Mrs. Dolloway greeting her audience and Kurt tuned her out. He didn’t care much about whatever spiel she pulled out of her finely dressed ass. He was sure that she would be able to coax some decent funds for the retirement home and his only purpose there was to perform to the best of his ability. Then he could hopefully put June Dolloway in his rear-view mirror.

One by one, the students were called out onto the stage and Kurt allowed himself to enjoy their performances. Mrs. Dolloway might be a total pill, but she did seem to have a real eye and ear for talent. Every one of the students she’d invited to perform were, to an individual, exceptional. He never had a problem admiring the talents of others and he felt rather privileged to be counted in a group like this.

There didn’t seem to be any set pattern to how they were called up, and he knew that he’d better be prepared at an instant’s notice. He’d done his warmups and just focused on keeping his vocal cords loosened and lubricated. Swishing some lukewarm water in his mouth before swallowing, he mentally ran through his performance notes, wanting to give his best effort.

Brett had just completed an absolutely stunning rendition of “Almost Like Being In Love” to great applause from their appreciate audience when Mrs. Dolloway stepped onto the stage, applauding him with a smile. Once the audience settled, she turned to them with a teasing smile.

“Well, now I think it’s time for something a little different,” she pronounced. “NYADA certainly has been generous with the talent we have this afternoon, so let me present Mr. Kurt Hummel.”

She looked to the stage wings and gave Kurt an appraising look, as if daring him to back out but he just smiled serenely. Not even taking a second to check his outfit one last time, Kurt stepped onto the stage and nodded his thanks to the prickly patron. Mrs. Dolloway just smiled and nodded a challenge to him before allowing him the stage.

Kurt turned his focus to the audience and the band began to play the opening strains to his first number. He wondered if anyone watching him would be surprised at his choice because this song had the potential to be a total train wreak if the melody got away from him at any point.

There was a gentle rhythm that felt almost like a heartbeat, and his voice rose out gently to match it. “Like the beat, beat beat of the tom tom,” he sang gently, each word falling neatly onto the percussion. “When the jungle shadows fall.”

His voice shifted octave just slightly, slipping into the next level of his range with smooth effortlessness, the words trailing elegantly. “Like the tick, tick, tock of the stately clock as it stands against the wall.”

The octave shifted again, and Kurt’s voice rose to meet it. “Like the drip, drip drip of the raindrops, when the summer shower is through,” he sang smoothly, his voice adjusting to the quick change from higher to low notes without any breaks. “So a voice within me keeps repeating you, you, you…”

The heartbeat rhythm was replaced by a warm jazzy tone and Kurt’s voice slipped easily into the new cadence. “Night and day, you are the one,” he sang passionately, allowing a faraway smile to touch his features as he thought about the man who was inspiring him. “Only you, beneath the moon and under the sun. Whether near to me or far… It’s no matter darling, where you are. I think of you…”

Kurt knew that technically had had it. His voice agilely danced through the various octaves and key changes without any hint of struggle. The song made use of nearly his entire range and required him to be able to bounce from octave to octave without hesitation or interruption.

But he was no mere technician. The warmth in his voice and the soul powering the words was what would set him apart. The singer was a man deeply, passionately in love and Kurt certainly had enough of those feelings to lend appropriate authenticity to his performance.

“Night and day,” he crooned, allowing all his feelings for Adam come out in his voice. “Day and night. Why is it so? This longing for you follows me wherever I go. In the roaring traffic’s boom. In the silence of my lonely room, I think of you.”

This separation had been one of the hardest things he’d endured, but his feelings for Adam had only grown. If absence did indeed make the heart grow fonder, then his heart was nearly overflowing with love for his absent partner. He could only express it now in his voice.

“Night and day. Night and day!” The key changed and Kurt voice rose elegantly as he slid into his upper range. “Under the hide of me. There’s an oh! Such a hungry yearning burning inside of me.”

He moved across the stage, doing a soft weave step that worked nicely with the flow of the music, letting himself get lost in the music and emotion. His voice slipped easily into his lower register, coiling like a spring.

“And its torment won’t be through, till you let me spend my life making love…” Kurt’s voice shot up to his upper register and he held the note for a long, dramatic second before letting it fall back into his middle range. “To you! Day and night! Night and day!”

He finished with a vocal flourish and couldn’t help from smiling when the audience applauded enthusiastically. Kurt thought that he’d sounded quite good but getting that kind of feedback from an artistically educated and appreciative audience… it would never get old.

Through the lights, he could see his audience. Mostly the seniors seated at the tables who seemed especially enthusiastic. One in particular caught his eye; a petite dumpling of a woman with short grey hair and grinning widely as she applauded. He smiled at her, nodding his thanks.

As for Mrs. Dolloway, standing in the wings… Kurt didn’t bother to look for her reaction, because it didn’t matter to him if she liked his performance or not. The band was already cuing up the music for his next number and he had an audience to focus on.

He was glad that he’d selected an upbeat number for his second performance, using songs from the same songwriter to tie his act together. He’d already proven that he was a singer. Now he could let them see just how much of a showman he could be.

He smiled beatifically looking out to the audience, using the older woman he’d spotted as a focus. “When the little blue bird who has never said a word, starts to sing, ‘Spring, spring’,” he trilled gently, letting his voice float on the music. “When the little blue bell in the bottom of the dell, starts to ring, ‘Ting, ting’.”

He did a little bit of dancing, moving across the stage as he sang. “When the little blue clock in the middle of his work, sings a song to the moon up above.” Kurt allowed a bit more power to come out in his voice but kept it carefully under control. “It is nature that's all, simply telling us to fall in love…”

He allowed a short pause to build up anticipation before continuing softly. “And that's why birds do it, bees do it,” he crooned delicately. “Even educated fleas do it. Let's do it! let's fall in love.”

Love might be the subject of ninety nine percent of songs written, he’d considered, but he didn’t know of many songs that so perfectly expressed the joy of discovering love. That one wasn’t above that heady emotion when sense could be tossed aside in favor of just feeling. Sometimes it would strike like a lightning bolt, but other times it came on more gradually. Like sinking into a perfectly warm bath. He’d been fortunate to have discovered love in both ways but having that moment when you truly fell was some of the most wondrous, terrifying moments of his life.

“In Spain, the best upper sets do it,” he confided playfully. “Lithuanians and Letts do it. Let's do it, let's fall in love.”

Kurt saw the plump little woman nodding approvingly, watching with the others seated at her table. An elegantly handsome black man leaned over to whisper something in her ear, his eyes focused on Kurt with the other man just watched with a slightly dazed smile on his face.

“Some Argentines without means, do it,” Kurt lilted, letting the best qualities of his voice shine. He knew that his voice was distinctive, and he wasn’t going to hide that fact no matter what Mrs. Dolloway thought. “People say in Boston even beans do it. Let’s do it! Let’s fall in love!”

Kurt had enough dance training under his belt that even though he hadn’t enough time to plan his choreography in advance, he could improvise and have it look thought out. He turned on one foot and danced across the stage as he sang, using the jazz technique that Ms. July had beaten into him and used the movement to accent his vocals. He could see the approval of the audience as they clapped in time to the music and cheered him on.

He gave a final spin, coming to stop in front of the older woman’s table and offered her and her friends a charming smile. “The world admits bears in pits do it,” he sang, letting more power come into his voice and giving the woman a sly smile and a little shimmy of his shoulders, causing her to giggle in response. “Even Pekingeses at the Ritz do it. Let’s do it! Let’s fall in love.

“The royal set sans regret did it, and they considered it fun. Marie Antoinette did it, with or with about Napoleon!” Kurt confided to his audience, glad that they were enjoying the bawdy nonsense. “Parliament pleasure bent did it. Mam’selles every time they’re short of rent did it.

“Let’s do it,” he belted, winding up for the conclusion and letting his voice soar. “Let’s fall in love!”

It might not have been the same thrill that he got from performing Les Misérables, but the audience was applauding and cheering, and Kurt couldn’t be more pleased. He gave a brief bow and waved to the crowd before stepping off stage.

Mrs. Dolloway was giving him an odd, appraising look but didn’t have the opportunity to speak with him right away. She stepped out to introduce the next performer and Kurt took the opportunity to make a quick escape.

He stopped by Abigail and Brett, the three of them quietly congratulating one another for their fine performances before Kurt made his way to where they audience was seated. Taking care not to draw attention to himself and detract from the young woman singing a glorious aria, he stealthily made his way to the table at the back where his friends were seated. They were all smiles and while they couldn’t immediately express what they thought without disturbing others seated around them, Kurt knew that he had done what he’d set out to do.

Rachel smiled at him warmly, her dark eyes clearly communicating how well she thought he’d done and reached out to grasp his hand. He returned the loving squeeze and allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder while they watched the remaining performers.

Once all the students were finished, Mrs. Dolloway took the stage again bask in the admiration of the audience, nodding her thanks at their applause. With practiced graciousness, she thanked all the performers and sponsors of the retirement home, urging everyone to stay for the reception. The house lights came on to illuminate the room and the band began to play a pleasant jazz set so that everyone could mingle and talk.

Now that the hard part was over, Kurt turned to his friends with a satisfied smile. “Thanks for being here, guys,” he said sincerely. “It was really reassuring, knowing that you were out here.”

Analisa got up to hug her favorite duet partner about his shoulders. “Don’t be silly,” she admonished playfully. “Did you really think we would miss it? We’re all in this together.”

Jamie clapped Kurt on the arm fondly. “Why don’t we go see what kind of food they’ve got,” he suggested.

Kurt smiled and nodded, offering his arms to both Analisa and Rachel, while Jamie happily escorted Katya. There was an open bar which provided Kurt with a very well-deserved glass of white wine while waiters circulated through the crowd with trays of finger foods. Taking a fried nibble that turned out to be brie and fig preserves, Kurt mentally prepared himself to do the whole meet and greet thing. While he’d much rather hang out with his friends and enjoy the free food, he knew that it would be stupid to waste the opportunity to network on June Dolloway’s dime. Especially if he could share the wealth with his friends.

After making the rounds, accepting compliments on his performance and pocketing a few business cards from some professionals who wanted to keep Kurt on their radar, he decided that he now had full right to relax and enjoy the party. A plate of munchies and Kurt was happy to sit at a convenient table with his friends to talk. They didn’t often have the chance to enjoy outings like this and he certainly wasn’t going to pass on the opportunity.

“I could use another drink,” he pronounced after finishing off his first glass of wine. “Can I get anyone anything?”

“No, we’re good,” Jamie assured him.

Kurt got up from his seat and took his empty glass with him to head towards the bar. He’d already planned to cut himself off after two glasses of wine, knowing that this was not the kind of setting where getting sloppy would be appreciated. The crowd was a bit thick and he carefully waded his way through but couldn’t avoid being collided by someone who’d been nudged into his path. Kurt quickly caught her, helping her find her balance again.

“I’m so sorry!” the woman exclaimed, alarmed as the glass she held sloshed a bit. “Did I get anything on you?”

Even in the less than ideal light, Kurt could see that his outfit was free of liquid stains. “No, it’s fine,” he assured her, offering a smile.

She inhaled a deep sigh of relief. “Thank goodness! I would have hated to ruin your outfit after that wonderful performance you just gave us,” she admitted with a smile.

Kurt quickly recognized her as the older woman that he’d focused on during his performance and realized that she was even more adorable than he’d originally perceived from the stage. With her round face and neat cap of grey hair, she looked like she would be perfectly at home baking cookies for a score of grandchildren.

That was until he caught the mischievous glint in her eyes behind her glasses. That indicated less an inclination towards baking and a nature more inclined to being the source of trouble wherever she went.

“At least this gives me the chance to thank you,” she said with a warm smile. “You were absolutely wonderful.”

Kurt couldn’t help from smiling back. “Thank you very much,” he answered sincerely. I’m so happy that you enjoyed it.”

“Well, it’s such a pleasure to meet you in person,” she said sweetly. “I’m Maggie.”

Kurt took her hand and shook it gently, amazing at how soft her skin was over joints that were clearly showing signs of advanced arthritis. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maggie. I’m Kurt.”

The handsome black man that Maggie had been seated with hurried over, trailed by another man with a perpetually dazed smile on his face. “Maggie, here you are,” he exclaimed, a hint or reprimand in his voice. “We were looking all over for you.”

“Oh hush… I was just talking to my new friend here,” Maggie explained. “This is Kurt and he just saved me from being knocked to the floor.”

She sighed happily. “It’ been so long since I’ve had a handsome young man to take care of me,” she teased with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Despite how she overstated his rescue of her, Kurt couldn’t help from smiling back, flattered by her compliment.

“Oh, come on,” the handsome black man reprimanded playfully. “My grandson visited just last week. He did your hair for you!”

Maggie blushed and laughed, hand-waving away her friend’s protestations. She turned a teasing smile to Kurt. “Don’t listen to him,” she insisted, patting his hand. “He always tries to spoil my fun.”

She looked to her friend and explained, “This is that lovely young man that we saw in Les Misérables. Remember?”

The man’s eyes widened slightly in recognition. “I should have remembered that,” he said ruefully. “A voice like that, you don’t forget too quickly.

“I’m Andy and this here is Marty,” he introduced, shaking Kurt’s hand warmly. “It’s so nice to meet such a talented young man.”

“Thank you,” Kurt said sincerely. “I wasn’t sure if anyone here saw our show.”

Andy couldn’t help from laughing loudly at that bit of absurdity. “Son, I don’t think there’s anyone in this room that didn’t see that show,” he insisted with a broad smile that looked far too sexy on a man his age. “It was a nice surprise to see some of the performers from it here today.”

Kurt couldn’t help from laughing at their antics. “Madam Tibideaux told me a bit about your retirement home and I couldn’t resist wanting to help,” he said with a smile. “It sounds like a really nice place.”

Andy nodded, taking a sip of his drink that appeared to be scotch and water. “It is,” he assured the younger man. “Especially when you consider that all of the residents have a lot of shared life and career experiences. Gives us plenty to talk about.”

Maggie nodded in agreement. “They have a lot of activities for old actors like us. We get to see most of the new Broadway shows, and we go to a lot of school and local productions,” she explained. “There was no way that we would miss that one.”

Her smile turned a bit mischievous as she appraised him. “I recognized you the instant you came on the stage.”

Kurt couldn’t help from laughing a bit. “I’m flattered,” he said sincerely.

“It’s a lot of fun, watching all you youngsters,” Andy complimented. “Reminds me of our glory days. I probably wasn’t much older than you when I made my big debut.”

“Oh hush, Andy,” Maggie reprimanded playfully. “He doesn’t want to hear our old stories. And we’re being so rude, taking him away from his friends like this.”

“It’s okay,” Kurt promised with a chuckle. He glanced over at the table where his friends were seated and caught Rachel’s questioning gesture at what was keeping him. He nodded his head towards his current companions and Rachel smiled knowingly, rolling her eyes playfully. “I see them all the time at school.”

Before he could say anything more, he saw Mrs. Dolloway approaching them. Her face was set in a smile, but Kurt could easily see that it was just a front for the guests. The look in her pale eyes was positively steely and whatever hope he had of finishing the day without an uncomfortable confrontation with her was totally extinguished.

“I hate to rush away,” he said was honest regret, because he would much rather hear their stories about the old days than deal with the unpredictable sponsor. “But I see Mrs. Dolloway and it look like she wants to speak with me.”

“Well, it’s been a pleasure, Kurt,” Andy said graciously, offering another brilliant smile. “You were excellent today and we’re all looking forward to seeing more from you.”

Maggie leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks for rescuing me,” she said sincerely. “I hope that we see more of you soon.”

He smiled back, giving her hand a fond squeeze. “It was wonderful to meet you,” he said graciously before turning to face the difficult sponsor. He was mentally steeling himself when he jumped in surprise because someone just pinched his ass. He turned in shock to see Maggie strolling away with her friends to find new entertainments but not without turning a mischievous smile in his direction and giving him a quick wave. Almost before he had a chance to mentally regroup, he was faced with his biggest challenge of the day.

“Well, Mr. Hummel,” Mrs.Dolloway pronounced with obviously false sweetness. “That performance was certainly not what I would have expected from you.”

Kurt let himself smile, detecting the bare trace of hard-won respect in her tone. “I’m pleased that I was able to surpass your expectations,” he allowed himself to respond with carefully politeness.

Her mouth pursed thoughtfully. “Well, it certainly wasn’t anything I would have expected,” she granted. “And I’ve gotten some decent feedback from some of our donors on your performance.”

Kurt had the feeling that getting an actual compliment from this woman would be like trying to extract state secrets from James Bond. Nor did he think that it would be worth the effort. He knew how well he’d done and didn’t need the confirmation from someone that evidently didn’t respect him.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he granted with a smile, pouring on the sugar. “Especially since it’s going to benefit the retirement home residents.”

Something seemed to soften in Mrs. Dolloway’s eyes at his disinterest in trying to reap glory for his own benefit. He would have every right to be proud of what he’d brought to that stage but had the grace to recognize that this day wasn’t about him in the end. It was about those lovely old actors getting support and respect from a younger generation.

She quickly regained her mental equilibrium, pasting a tolerant expression on her face as if trying to reason with an unruly child. Gazing at him appraisingly, she stated “I have other performance opportunities over the next few weeks that might interest you. Perhaps we could set up a time to discuss the options.”

Kurt’s eyebrow arched in surprise at the offer. He would have thought that he would be the last person she would invite back to another of her showcases.

Trying to look apologetic and not sure if he was being totally convincing, Kurt gave a regretful sigh. “I wish that I could,” he said with as much sincerity as he could force into his voice without sounding saccharine. “But we’re getting to the end of the semester and I’ve got all my finals and critiques to get through. Then right after that, I start rehearsals for the Garrison festival and that will tie me up all summer. I’m afraid that I’m just not going to have any free time to take on any more committments.”

At least not any where Mrs. Dolloway was concerned, he said to himself with an internal smirk.

His excuse was plausible enough given the time of the year and not something that she could actually protest since he still had two years of school to go. “I suppose that your semester is winding down,” she granted with a huff. “And I doubt that Carmen would be forgiving if I distracted you from your studies.”

Kurt nodded, glad that she was buying it. To be honest, if he really wanted to, he probably could have found time to manage another showcase. He’d become very adept at juggling an overloaded schedule, but Mrs. Dolloway made it difficult for him to justify putting himself out in any way.

Still, she didn’t appear to be trying to be deliberately awful at the moment and he was glad to have helped support the retirement home. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to make nice to the old harridan.

“Maybe once school starts again,” he offered, wanting to end this on a positive note so that he at least didn’t have to worry about an enemy. While it would be idiotic for Mrs. Dolloway to try to hamstring his prospects, it would be equally stupid on his part to antagonize her unnecessarily.

“Especially if your showcase benefits a cause like this,” he added with genuine sincerity. “I was very happy to give my support today. Anything for old folks or animals… I’m pretty much a sucker for those.”

That got a genuine laugh from the cantankerous woman, and Kurt thought that just maybe he might get out of this with his professional reputation intact.

Mrs. Dolloway offered a brief nod, accepting both his refusal and the offered olive branch with a lot more grace that he would have expected. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind if the opportunity comes up,” she assured him with a sharp-toothed grin. “Even if it doesn’t, I’ll be keeping my eye on you. I’m curious enough to see how you develop going forward. You’re an interesting young man, Mr. Hummel.”

There was just enough warning in her tone to imply that she was being entirely truthful, and Kurt knew well enough not to poke a snarling cat with a stick. He reached out to take her hand, as if to shake it, but surprised her by pressing a feather-light kiss to her thin fingers.

“I’ll try to keep surprising you,” he assured her, offering a bit of a saucy wink that got another laugh from Mrs. Dolloway. She shook her head bemusedly as she walked off to find someone else to torture.

Walking back to his friends, Kurt allowed himself a sigh of relief at having managed to escape what could have been a very painful entanglement. He knew that he had handled things as well as he possibly could have managed and all things considered, it hadn’t been a terrible way to spend an afternoon. He got to offer support to a worthy cause, performed well before and appreciative audience and apparently had managed to avoid being mauled by a difficult patron.

All in all, he was rather pleased with himself. And he’d have some interesting stories to tell Adam when he returned home.

* * *

At one point, having a day off meant that Adam could rest. Being on the road and performing on tour was draining and he knew that if he intended to survive with his sanity intact, that he needed to take the opportunity to relax when presented with it. Certainly, he and his friends did sightseeing and took advantage of the various cities that they performed in. He was glad to have the opportunity to see so much of the country that he had made his home in.

But this day off would allow little time for decompressing or taking a long nap to recharge. Not when he had just a few weeks left of work and no flat to return to. He wanted to review the listings and narrow down some options before asking Kurt to take time from his studies to see them in person. Adam knew that Kurt would have his finals soon and had precious little time to go looking at apartments when he should be focused on his studies.

While staying in their old neighborhood would have been ideal for Kurt, as he could walk to school when the weather permitted and they were familiar with the area, he knew that they should also branch out a bit. Being closer to the theater district might work out and put him closer to work and auditions. And while he had a very nice chuck of his pay stashed in the bank, he knew that it needed to last until Butcher’s Bill started up in New York. Something that they could afford would be critical.

Adam had lived in New York long enough to know that the real estate market was cutthroat and apartments that seemed ideally suited to their needs would vanish from the market in an instant. It was frustrating to compile a list of prospects, only to have them snapped up before he could ask Kurt to see them in person.

Niall watched his increasing vexation with amusement, rolling his eyes as Adam ranted at another possible flat was rented before they could even check the apartment out.

“Mate, why are you driving yourself barmy like this?” he asked, watching from his bed as Adam was reviewing yet another group of listings.

Adam turned an irritated look to his friend. “Because NYADA isn’t going to let me move into Kurt’s dorm room when we get back to New York,” he snapped, aggravated by the lack of progress in finding himself a home. “I’m not fancying being homeless.”

Niall shook his head in amusement. “Just call an agent,” he suggested, as if the solution was so plainly obvious and Adam was three kinds of idiot for not noticing it sooner. “Let them do all the leg work. Just tell them when you’ll need your place by.”

Adam looked at the other Englishman, mentally kicking himself for not thinking of that sooner. Exasperated with his own stubbornness, he did a quick internet search and found an agent had very positive reviews from past clients. Speaking to her, he learned that her fee was paid by the landlords after the lease was signed, as they were saved time and work by having their prospective tenants cleared by someone else and Adam explained what he and Kurt were looking for.

A one bedroom at least, so that he and Kurt would have some wiggle room and not be living in one another’s pockets the whole time. Two bedrooms would be even better, letting one room stand as a study/guest room but he knew that would probably be out of their budgets. A decent kitchen with a dishwasher. They didn’t mind a walk up, but if the flat was more than three stories up they were prefer a building with a lift. He explained that while he wouldn’t be back in New York to sign the lease for a few weeks, they could put a deposit down to secure the flat until he returned.

She expressed confidence that she’d be able to find something for him that would be available when he returned to New York and that it would be no problem for Kurt to see the apartments in his stead. Within three days, Adam had a group of listings to review. He picked out the ones that he thought suited best and forwarded them to Kurt to look over.

“The Chelsea apartment is awfully expensive,” Kurt mused on their afternoon call. “And it’s pretty far from the subway.”

“I was thinking that myself,” Adam said regretfully. It was the largest of the flats they were considering and ticked off most of the boxes, but it was at the high end of their budget. Being comfortable didn’t matter much if they were left starving in order to cover the rent. “We can cross that one off our list. What about the one in Hell’s Kitchen? I know it’s a walk-up, but it’s only the second floor. And it’s a few blocks from the subway and the bus going downtown.”

The agent had been especially pleased to find that apartment and it would become available right around the time Adam was finishing in California. Newly renovated and in an area that she assured him had plenty of good restaurants and shopping and was very friendly to same-sex couples, it sounded like a fine place for Adam to land in.

Kurt took a moment and looked over the listing. “I like this one,” he decided. “I won’t be able to walk to school, but it shouldn’t take me too long to get there. And there’s a laundromat right down the block, so we won’t have to go too far for clean underwear.”

“And it’s not at all far from the theater district,” Adam noted. “It’s only one bedroom, but I think that it’ll be large enough for us to be comfortable. Maybe look at this one and two flats in the West Village.”

“Sounds good,” Kurt agreed. “I’ll make arrangements to see them and we’ll make a final choice. That is, if you trust me.”

Adam couldn’t help from laughing at the absurd nothing. “Of course I do, love,” he assured Kurt lovingly. “I have no doubt that you’ll pick the right home for us.”

Kurt fell silent for a moment and Adam couldn’t help from prodding, “Sweetheart?”

“It’s okay,” Kurt assured him. “It’s just… it feels like you’ve been away for so long. This just makes you coming home real.”

Adam smiled at the longing in his lover’s voice. He’d missed Kurt so badly the past few months and finding a new flat was the confirmation that their time apart was coming to an end.

“And this will be our place,” he reminded Kurt. “Not one of us moving into a space where the other had already set down roots. We’ll make it our home, together.”

He heard Kurt sniffle over the line and wished that he could be there to take his beautiful lad into his arms. Just a few short weeks, he told himself.

“I can’t wait,” Kurt insisted. “I just want to hold you and never let go.”

Hearing Kurt’s longing expressed so plainly caused Adam’s heart to tighten within his chest. They’d survived this trial and very soon would be reaping the rewards for everything that they’d gone through.

It would only be a few more weeks, he told himself.

* * *

Kurt looked about the empty apartment, glad that he’d brought Rachel along for both company and to offer an unbiased opinion. After sleeping in a dorm room, however comfortable, Kurt was desperate for some real privacy and his own shower. While Adam trusted him to make a good choice that suited both of them, Kurt worried that he’d take whatever apartment he was shown first. Having one of his closest friends who knew his tastes so well would help him to make a more reasoned decision.

He'd already decided that one of the West Village apartments might be a contender, having enough space for them to live in comfortably. The other was too small despite technically being a one bedroom and the bathroom was sorely out of date despite the high rent the landlord was requesting. Climbing up the steps to an old pre-war brownstone on the west side, he hoped that this apartment might suit them better.

“The apartment gets a lot of good natural light,” the broker, Monica, explained as she guided them around. “The windows are new and will muffle out a lot of the street noise.”

Kurt nodded as he checked out the kitchen that had clearly been recently renovated. While like most kitchens in New York apartments it was on the small side, there was more space than in Adam’s old place and he was confident that both he and Adam could be cooking together without tripping over one another. It had more than enough cabinet and counter space for their needs and all the appliances were brand new, including the coveted dishwasher.

The living area was decent sized, and Kurt thought that they could fit in an actual dining table that could accommodate more than just the two of them, as well as a sofa and loveseat so they could entertain guests. He loved the exposed brick wall and the honey-warm hardwood floors, listening to his shoes clicking as he walked through the place.

“Does the fireplace work?” Rachel asked, eyeing the space in the brick wall and the small mantle accenting it enviously. Kurt didn’t blame her, as he was already envisioning hanging up their stockings during the winter holidays and setting up an elegantly decorated tree or curling up on the floor together in front of a roaring fire.

Monica shook her head. “I’m afraid not,” she clarified. “The shaft is sealed off. But you can put in an electric log heater. I have one in my own place and it gives the feel of having a real fire. It’s also a lot safer.”

Kurt nodded absently, making a note of that to relay to Adam. A functioning fireplace was on neither of their “must have” lists and it certainly wouldn’t be something that would remove this apartment from consideration. They could still have romantic evenings together, even if their fire was electrical. Having a fireplace, even a non-functional one was a definite bonus.

The bathroom had also undergone recent renovations, with a cleanly tiled shower that looked like he and Adam could share if they didn’t mind being in very close quarters he noted with a pleased smirk. There was a linen closet right opposite the bathroom, giving them additional storage space. And the bedroom…

Kurt took measure of the size, seeing that they could easily fit in a large bed and a dresser for each of them. A peek in the closet confirmed that there was enough space so that they wouldn’t be fighting over every square inch. The room had been painted recently a pale beige that invited him to imagine their pictures on the wall and white blinds on the windows that would give the space a refined but homey feel.

He thought back to the day that he and Rachel first saw the Bushwick loft and that instant that they both realized that they could make that big empty space a home. That they were able to look past the bare walls and cheerless interior and see where they could build their lives in New York. The other apartments he’d been looking at were nice, but this was the first apartment where Kurt could actually see himself and Adam living.

If he gave the word, Adam would go along with his opinion. They would pay the deposit and sign the lease as soon as Adam was back in New York. Adam could get moved in and start setting up while Kurt was finishing his classes for the year. It was a huge responsibility that his partner had placed on his shoulders and Kurt didn’t wand to make the wrong choice. He took a few pictures on his phone to send to Adam so they could discuss their options.

Letting Monica know that he and Adam would think about things and let her know which apartment they’d choose, he and Rachel walked down the stairs and out into the lively neighborhood that surrounded the pretty ivy-covered building. The street was tree-lined and surprisingly quiet despite being the middle of a weekday. Just down the block was an appealing looking coffee shop and several interesting bars and restaurants.

It was the kind of area that he could see them building a life together. He could pick at the negatives, such as having to commute to school and not living close by their friends. But those were minor complaints when he could envision their lives there. Both of them had been flying on their own for too long, learning what the strength of their wings were capable of. Now it was time to build a nest of their own.

“So, what do you think?” Rachel asked as they explored the neighborhood around the building a bit. “You’ve got a lot of nice restaurants around here.”

Kurt took in the lively atmosphere, liking the feel of the area. He appreciated how the building was down a side street and insulated from the worst of the city noise, but a quick walk would get them to all of the amenities. The Clinton Gardens were just a few short blocks away, giving them a bit of green space to enjoy during the nice weather. Walking east would take them right into the heart of the theater district. It was as if this neighborhood were all but designed for their needs.

“I think I like it here,” he pronounced, allowing himself to smile. He spotted a bakery that the real estate agent had recommended and grasped Rachel’s hand. “Come on… I owe you a treat after all your help today. Then we’ll do a test drive to see how long it takes the bus to get me to school.”

They returned to Kurt’s dorm room forty minutes later with a box of assorted cookies to share. “Well, that wasn’t bad,” Rachel decided as she sat down on Kurt’s bed. “It’s a lot easier than coming from Bushwick.”

“Yeah, I think it’ll be okay,” Kurt agreed, sitting down at his desk chair and opening the box. “I hope you know that you’re taking most of these home… Ms. July will decapitate me if she sees me eating these.”

Still, the threat of bodily harm from his dance instructor didn’t stop him from picking out a large cookie studded liberally with chucks of chocolate.

Rachel laughed, picking out a carrot cake cookie for herself. “I’m sure that between Artie and Santana, I won’t have too much trouble finding anyone to take these off my hands,” she said good naturedly. After taking a bite of her snack, she looked to her best friend.

“You look like you’re thinking awfully hard,” she prodded gently, knowing that her friend had a huge decision to make.

“I am,” Kurt admitted. “I just don’t want to make the wrong choice.”

She nodded and nibbled at her cookie. “I don’t think you can really make a bad choice,” she pointed out. “All of the apartments were nice.”

“I was a little torn between the last one we saw and the one in the Village,” Kurt admitted. “But I really like the one in Hell’s Kitchen. Even if it is farther away from school. I think that the quality of life we can have there would be worth the commute.”

She nodded in agreement. “I knew that one was your favorite. From the moment you stepped through the door,” she advised thoughtfully. “So, you’ll take it?”

Kurt considered their options again, mentally weighing out the pros and cons of each place before nodding. “I’ll call Adam and talk it over, but I think that one is it.”

Rachel smiled at her friend. “I’m glad,” she admitted. “And we all can’t wait to throw you two a housewarming party. Don’t forget to tell us when you move in. You’ve got plenty of friends to help move things.”

That was a fact that Kurt was absolutely certain of. Between the group from Lima based out in Bushwick, the Apples and the group he’d found in NYADA, he and Adam wouldn’t be alone to break their backs moving furniture. Promising beer and pizza, they would have plenty of willing helpers.

That evening, he and Adam reviewed their options and made their final choice. Adam would be contacting their agent in the morning and would transfer the deposit to secure their new home. After speaking with his lover for what seemed like hours, Kurt rolled over in bed, clutching a pillow to him.

Only a few more weeks, he told himself.

* * *

The final performance of Butcher’s Bill went off splendidly, with the entire cast giving everything they had for that performance. Standing on stage and accepting the ovation of the audience filled Adam with a tremendous sense of pride. It had been a tremendous challenge, being on the road for so long and then performing to the best of his ability every night but he had succeeded beyond anything he could have hoped to accomplish.

Of course, his time with Butcher’s Bill wasn’t done just yet, with runs in London and New York to look forward to. But he would have time to rest, recalibrate and focus on getting his life in New York sorted out again.

The cast and crew celebrated their accomplishment late into the night. There was much in the way of congratulations and commiserations, not to mention numerous celebratory toasts. Adam awoke in his shared hotel room with Niall snoring nosily in the next bed and his own head feeling like it wasn’t quite attached to his neck.

Packing his bags for the final time felt odd in a manner that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He was, of course, delighted to be going home and could not wait to see Kurt. But after zipping up his suitcase, he felt a little lost as bereft. The pressure of his job was over for the time being, and he wasn’t quite sure what awaited him. He’d managed to find something of a routine that had kept him sane over the past few months and now would have to develop a new one going forward.

There would certainly be enough for him to do, he considered. Reconnecting with Kurt was first and foremost on his list, and there was their new flat to set up. He had his internship with the Garrison festival that would keep him busy over the summer, as well as allow him more time to spend with Kurt while they worked. He’d find a small job to keep the bills paid and himself busy until rehearsals started for their London run.

But for now… it was the malaise that came with the end of a production. The down that came after the incredible high of performing before an appreciative audience every night and doing what he’d spent his life training to do. Having the production end, even for just a few months, took a lot of the steam right out of him. It was a vastly different from his past experience with school productions and festivals. This felt much larger… more intense.

It was something that he would have to become accustomed to, Adam told himself as he checked about the hotel room to make sure that he hadn’t forgotten anything. His life would be a cycle of shows beginning and ending. Of hard work and downtime when he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. But for his first true foray into the world of being a professional actor, he was well satisfied with what he and his castmates had accomplished.

Niall pulled him into a tight embrace as they left the last cast luncheon where they’d celebrated having survived the experience. Adam found himself clinging back to the man who’d become such a close friend over the past few months.

“Now don’t forget,” Niall warned with a grin. “Cynth and I are claiming first rights for a couple’s night out once you’re settled in your place. No trying to wriggle out of that.”

Adam couldn’t help from laughing. “I won’t,” he assured his friend. “Kurt will have my guts for garters if I tried to bail on you.”

The other Englishman gave Adam another squeeze, as if reluctant to let him go. “Take care of yourself, you silly tosser. Safe travels,” he urged.

“You too, mate,” Adam returned, blinking away the tears that he swore weren’t there just a second ago. “Give Cynthia a hug for me.”

Adam was grateful to have made such a good friend on this tour, and that the whole case got along so well. It would have made for a miserable experience to live that closely with a group that he didn’t get along with for an extended period. Not that he expected that he would always bond so closely with castmates, and Adam had worked with actors that he didn’t like on a personal level, but the pressures of a tour magnified the dynamics of any cast. He was indeed fortunate to have his first experience be such a positive one.

The flight back to New York was uneventful, but as the miles of American landscape passed beneath him, Adam felt his excitement begin to swell. He watched out the plane window as mountains and grasslands passed by, speeding past cities and long stretches of road that etched their way through the landscapes. He would never cease to be amazed at just how big this country was, or how varied it was. He was wise enough to recognize what a treat he’d had, getting a chance to see more of the country than most people who’d lived their wholes lives there had.

He felt himself smiling as the pilot announced their approach to Newark Airport, knowing that it would only be a little bit longer before he was home. Or at least, in the hotel room that he’d reserved until their lease was signed and he could get into their new flat. When the jets wheels finally touched onto solid ground, he knew that he’d finally made it.

It seemed to take forever for his bags to appear on the carousal, but he soon enough had them in hand and was walking to the arrivals area. It would be just a short train ride into Manhattan, and hopefully into Kurt’s waiting arms.

After stepping through the last set of doors that let him out into the greeting area, he looked for the sign that would direct him to the train when he heard a familiar voice call out, “Adam!”

Adam looked at the crowd gathered to greet the arriving passengers and sat him standing at the front, waving to get his attention. What the hell..?

He hurried over and dropped the handle for his suitcase, catching up Kurt in a tight hug and not caring who was around to see them. Adam’s senses were suddenly flooded with all the familiar characteristics that he knew so well from Kurt and had missed so much these past months. The feel of his body, the scent of his skin and the cologne that he favored, the slight hitch in his breathing that sometimes happened when he was overcome with emotion.

Home wasn’t New York or their little flat. Home was Kurt.

He was finally home, and he never wanted to leave again.

* * *

Kurt's solos: "Night and Day" and "Let's Fall In Love" - Cole Porter

[houseofbrat]

Oh thanks for that video. Keep wondering why we don't see people from black and white poor backgrounds in coalition recognizing income inequality is a real issue. You don't end racism in the US if you don't do something bout the grotesque inequalities in the distribution of wealth. Like to see a shift in the conversation to that.

Sorry for such a late reply. I meant to get to this last week but ran out of time. I assume you’re referring to the Wosny Lambre video, which I’ve reposted here just for context. And now I’m going to use your ask to go on a bit of a rant...

I agree with you that definitely income inequality and economic class is a huge part of the issue, not just racism by itself. The US seems unable to want to talk about class. 

And perhaps I should extend that to Canada as well. Because after reading Lainey’s extra long post about the Jessica Mulroney-Sasha Exeter situation, it’s really clear to me that one of the biases that contributed to the situation in the first place--and is NOT being called out--is (economic) class. 

Mulroney comes from a rich family. She married into another rich family. Calling out her class privilege is not happening. Here is Lainey using the “woke” terms “white privilege” and now “white fragility.” Yet, reading in between the lines, what no one seems to be calling attention to is Mulroney’s upper class white privilege. Mulroney isn’t just a middle class person trying to make ends meet; although, from the little I’ve read about Sasha Exeter, she sounds like she is middle class. Hence, this is why Sasha was being economically threatened by Mulroney’s behavior. Yes, the context had a background in a protest movement against racism, but the threats are certainly economic. Would Jessica Mulroney have made the same comments against a middle class white influencer? Based on the very long article Lainey wrote, the answer almost certainly seems to be yes. Yet, people are throwing around the the term “white fragility” and reading the book by Robin DiAngelo, when they should be reading Anand Giridharadas’ Winners Take All: The Elite Charade of Changing the World instead. 

It’s absolutely no surprise that rich people--such as Jeff Bezos for an easy example--can have their companies such as Amazon make posts about how they support Black Lives Matter movement, yet they’ll demonize their own black employees such as Chris Smalls as “not smart or articulate” since he was trying to unionize with his fellow Amazon employees for better working conditions during a pandemic. Amazon will spout off platitudes against racism, but when it comes to actually improving the pay, benefits, and working conditions of their own employees, which includes black, brown, and white people, they’re not interested in making real changes. They don’t want to affect their profit margins. 

But back to your original point. I would disagree that people from poor backgrounds--black, brown, and white--weren’t working together recently to combat inequality. They were during Bernie Sanders’ campaign.

The points they make in the video were points made by Bernie Sanders’ campaign a long, long time ago back in January. Bernie Sanders is the only Democratic nominee who had criminal justice reform as part of his platform. Yet, undoubtedly there are rich people--and those in the upper class--who are now speaking in agreement with most of Bernie Sanders’ platform regarding criminal justice reform. 

All those Pete Buttigieg, Elizabeth Warren, Joe Biden, Kamala Harris, Amy Klobuchar, and Joe Biden supporters now seem to think that police reform is an important issue. But they couldn’t be bothered to support it before. Why? Because they don’t have a problem with the economic situation, for one. And two, Democrats have decided it is #votebluenomatterwho, which means that their party should not be about anything other than #notDonaldTrump. Hence, the actual issues facing the American people don’t really matter to them. Because why else would you support a 77-year-old who can’t answer basic questions?

That Joe Biden just a few days ago.

Sorry but I just needed to vent. 

[jadeargents]

ig live — getting ready with me.

Checking if she was live, Jade smiled towards the camera as she raised her hand for a moment. “Hi everyone. Sorry for not announcing this live beforehand, but I didn’t know I was doing this until like five minutes ago. I’m getting ready to go out and I thought it would be a good idea to talk with you and answer some questions while I’m doing that.” She looked through her make up bag, taking only a moment of searching before she found the foundation. “I’ve already applied the primer, I’m gonna do foundation now. You can go ahead and ask anything you wanna know, as long as it’s not too personal.”

“How are you?” She read, a smile appearing on her features. “That’s nice of you to ask that first. I’m great, honestly. Living my best life. I’m writing a lot of songs, spending time with some of my favorite people, being on tour and singing my music... can’t imagine a better life right now.” Looking in the mirror she began applying the foundation, though she paused immediately after. “Disclaimer, I’m not a make up artist. I don’t know if I’m doing this the right way, I’m just mirroring what I’ve seen my own make up artist do.” Continuing, she didn’t say anything else until she finished the coverage. 

“Moving onto concealer now,” she stated as she opened the liquid concealer and applied a few lines under her eyes. She then turned towards her phone to read the next question. “What songs have I been obsessed with lately? Hold on.” Grabbing her computer, she opened her most recent Spotify playlist. “Bloodline by Denise is my fucking jam, she’s incredible. The entire album is great, honestly. Don’t Worry ‘Bout Me by Luana is also a favorite.” Seeing some of Julian’s songs on there, she decided it was time to close the playlist. She had given them enough reasons to believe they’re together without saying one of her favorite songs is a song that was written about her. “There’s a lot of them I like. I can make a playlist if you guys are interested.” She finished dabbing the concealer then moved onto the next question.  

“Have I written a song with anyone lately?” Choosing a light pink blush for her next move, she selected the right brush from her set and lightly applied the make up over her cheekbones at the same time as she replied. “I’ve written a song with Ofelia, and another one with Chasity and they’ll both be released eventually, in case you’re wondering.” She didn’t mention the other person she’s been writing songs with, since she knew they wouldn’t let it go for the rest of the live if she did. 

“Twitter or Instagram?” An uncomfortable smile appeared on her lips. “You don’t want my answer to that, I’m going to be mean.” Closing her blush, she looked towards the camera. “In all honesty, I prefer actual human interaction. Social media is great for interacting with fans, but it’s not my favorite. That’s why I’ve been distancing myself from Twitter lately. I’ve just found I feel much better when I prioritize spending time with people and limit the time I spend on my phone. If there’s a piece of advice you should take from me, it’s that one.”

Grabbing her highlighter, she looked towards her phone again to read the next question before focusing on the makeup. “Would I accept acting in a film?” Jade shrugged her shoulders. “I'm not sure. Depends if the film meant a lot to me. I would definitely have to take some acting classes before that, but why not?” She stopped applying her highlighter, setting down her brush for a moment. “Though I have to point out I wouldn’t push my singing career aside. Music is the priority, no matter what else is there.” Once she finished with that step, she chose a palette of gold tones and continued with the eyeshadow. 

“What do I think about what headlines are saying about me?” She huffed, shaking her head subtly. She was staring in the mirror as she applied her eyeshadow, but that didn’t last long because she couldn’t prevent herself from staring at the camera as she voiced her thoughts. “Frankly, I don’t give a fuck. You can quote me on that. I’m living my life and I’m being myself, and if that bothers anyone, it’s not my problem. I’m happy where I am right now and I’m not going to let anything ruin that for me.”

Reading the comments she received after her statement, her hand instinctively went to her chest, showcasing a mix of emotions on her expression. “I’m truly touched by your support, guys.” A smile appeared on her lips as she went back to adding the finishing touches to her eyeshadow. “Though I have to say you’re making me laugh with your reactions to me saying I’m happy. I didn’t think that was possible either, but what do you know? Maybe life doesn’t have a personal vendetta against me after all. Maybe I should’ve just been more patient, but well, I trust that everything happens for a reason. I’m thankful for the state of mind I’m in right now, and that’s all that counts.”

“Where’s Julian? How would I know?” A chuckle left her lips, as she began applying her eyeliner. “I don’t track him. That’s not a healthy…” she stopped, looking straight at the camera with an amused smile, “… friendship.” She continued tracing her eyeliner as if she hadn’t said anything out of common, that made the comments on her phone suddenly increase. She didn’t say anything as she waited for them to calm down, so she could go back to answering questions.

“What’s the last movie I’ve seen?” She stopped for a moment, looking towards the ceiling as she was thinking. A smile appeared on her lips as she remembered. “Funny enough, it was with Julian. We watched “The Nun” at an open air cinema event in London.” Jade read the comments, a disbelieving smile on her lips, then responded to them as she put on mascara. “Bold of you guys to assume I need someone to hold me during horror movies. I’m not afraid of them. Or anything for that matter. I’m pretty much fearless.” Except emotions, but she wouldn’t mention that. She wouldn’t tell them that she did spend that night in Julian’s arms, not because she was afraid, but because she liked being close to him.

Applying red lipstick, she then looked towards her comments. A huff left her lips as her eyes read the question. They were unbelievable. “Am I meeting Julian? Yes, I am,” she said, “I am also meeting Luana and Chasity, that doesn’t change that I’m putting on make up for myself, not for him, or anyone else I’m seeing today.” She sighed, putting her make up bag aside to look straight at the camera. “I think we’ve covered enough the subject that women do not dress or put on make up for men for you to stop insinuating at this point. You can do better.”

“You know, I should have a feminist podcast,” she said, looking through her comments and expecting to see a lot of negativity, yet that wasn’t the case. They were all encouraging and excited which kind of made her feel bad for getting their hopes up. “That was a joke. Sorry, I would, but I literally don’t know how that would fit into my schedule,” she responded, shaking her head softly with an apologetic smile. “Besides, I think I’d get too frustrated with the issues discussed and that’s not an advantage when the purpose is getting educated. You should be taught about feminism from someone who has patience, meanwhile I’m gonna keep ranting about these problems on Instagram and Twitter.” She ended her explanation with a smile, feeling much more calm when explaining herself.  

“What’s my favorite shade of lipstick? The one I’m wearing right now, actually.” Inspecting what the label was saying, she then approached the lipstick to the camera. “It’s the Fenty Beauty Mattemoiselle Plush Matte Lipstick, in the shade of Royal Red, called Madamn.” 

She removed the accessory that was holding most of her hair back. “What do I have planned for the future career wise?” She smiled as she began styling strands of her hair into waves. “I’m glad you specified what future you mean, because personal life future, I couldn’t have told you.” Realizing what she just said, she closed her eyes for a second, breathing in. She should be more careful with the way she worded things. “Because I don’t know what the future has reserved for me in that aspect, not because there’s a particular event that would happen in the future.” The last thing she needed was people sending videos of her to Julian asking him if he proposed or asking him when they were getting married. “Anyway, back to the question. I can’t tell too much, but I’m preparing for the European leg for All The Stars World Tour as you know. I’m also writing a lot, and I’ve already filmed the first two music videos for the fourth album. I can’t reveal anything about the release date right now, but you know, I’ll keep you posted.”

Once she finished with the hair, she attached it in a way that it wasn’t standing in her face, but still was cascading down her back. “Last question,” she announced as she looked through the comments until she found a good one. “What was my favorite concert I’ve performed during this tour?” There was no hesitation there, a genuine smile appearing on her lips. “New York City.” There was no doubt why. Julian was at her concert that night, and having him backstage when they hadn’t seen each other in more than a month made her feel so happy. However, she needed to divert the fans’ attention from that. “New York is one of my favorite cities, and the energy there is just incredible.” She wasn’t lying, but there were other cities where she performed that were memorable too — New York stood out because of her significant other being there. She smiled as she thought about how in love she was. It wasn’t getting less surreal with time. 

“Thanks for keeping me company as I was getting ready. I’ll keep you updated on my outfit later when I’ll post a photo. Hope the rest of your day will be good. Take care.”

[petri808]

Charmed Affliction

Lol, this was a HW assignment but I might as well post it here too :). 4500 words

FT Next Gen main characters of parents Gajeel/Levy (Sage Redfox) and Mira/Laxus (Isla Dreyar), with Erza/Jellal’s child (Andesine Fernandez) in a smaller role; Nashi Dragneel is mentioned.  For pictures of the kids, please go to @petrischronicles, more character background and synopsis check out the AO3 link :)

“Just think about it, Isla, you don’t have to become a doctor, how about an EMT, or a surgical nurse…”

“Moooom just drop it already!  Why can’t you understand that I don’t wanna work in the medical field!”

“But with your magic, you could help people. That’s why your sister…”

“Ugh, Please don’t compare me to her, mom I hate it when you do that.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to but, Isla honey I wish you wouldn’t sell yourself so short.  You’re a lot smarter than you realize.”

Isla rolls her eyes, she was over having this same old debate, “Can I go?  I gotta get to school already.”

“Do you need a ride, I could drop you off on my way to work?”

“Nah, I’ll walk.”

“Alright, well good luck on your test dear.”

“Thanks, mom.” Isla gives her mom a half wave as she walks out the door.

In a world where only about 1 in every 5,000 people are born with the capacity to wield inhuman powers, it was seen as special to be one of those few.  But not everyone used their abilities for good or were even happy to have them.  They couldn’t live an ordinary life and were expected to behave with a higher degree of acumen.  But try explaining to a child why they couldn’t go to the same schools as the other kids in the neighborhood, or why they needed to attend a special school just for their own kind.  All Isla Dreyar wanted to be was a normal teenager, with normal problems, but unfortunately, being born with magic meant the shy young girl would face a whole ‘nother set of stressors that could drive her to the brink.  

Great, just great, as if things couldn’t get any worse in this class she just had to get an F on her quiz.  Isla rolls her eyes, lets out a lengthy groan, and drops her head onto the desk, burrowing it between her folded arms, ‘I really, really… hate this class!’  A month ago, she had been warned by upper classmates, that told her Elemental Studies was one of the toughest subjects anyone with her type of magic would have to go through; and now she knew why because it thoroughly and utterly sucked!

In this realm, elemental magic was the most common type because it revolved around anything to do with nature, such as fire, water, plants, rocks, and well electricity just to name a few.  But for Isla, that meant having to study several scientific topics such as chemistry, biology, and meteorology which were her weakest fields.  Plus, it didn’t help that the teacher, Mrs. Aquarius was, let’s just say not very friendly.  

Sage ducks into the room to check on his friend, knowing this was a difficult class for her, “Hey Isla,” a hand on her shoulder and a voice she knows all too well raises her from lamenting on the current situation.  “You okay?”

A false smile quickly morphs onto her face. “Yeah!”  Standing up and shoving her belongings into her school bag, “totally fine Sage, just a bit tired I guess, stayed up to cram ‘n all.”

The young man, moves out of the way as Isla shoulders her bag, giving her space while they head out of the classroom.  “How’d you do on the test?”

Shrugging, “Average I guess…. Hey, wanna get something to eat at the caf?”

“Nah I’m cool, supposed to meet Nashi in the library so we can work on our group assignment for Mr. Capricorn’s class,” he reaches out to put his hand on her shoulder, “how ‘bout…” but she shies out of his reach.

“Oh…” her breathing falters, “I’ll just catch ya later then.”  Isla walks away abruptly, leaving Sage a bit baffled by her sudden shift in attitude; not even giving him a chance to say goodbye.  Still confused but now late for his meeting, he heads in the opposite direction towards the library.  

Isla’s head is spinning, berating herself for being rude to Sage when all he had done was simply mention another girls name.  Of course, it was a rival in her view, but he didn’t know that… ‘and, didn’t deserve the attitude,’sighing and plopping down under an old willow with her lunch.  Sage Redfox, cool and collected Sage, or Tatsuo as some of his buddies called him was the one friend Isla had stayed close to since they were little kids.  While his tastes eventually developed into the more gothic scene, fueling her own shift towards that genre, his personality was always open and charismatic, never dark or angry.  Not to mention she found him very attractive, tall and toned, with long dark blue hair that he kept up in a ponytail most of the time.  He was the one friend she could count on….  Releasing a long exhale, ‘I should apologize to him later.’      

She rubs at her inner left wrist, closing her eyes to the realities surrounding her for the moment, and leans against the withered trunk.  School, studies, acquaintances going about their day oblivious to one girl sitting all alone.  They didn’t even notice her presence, Isla assumes, since she wasn’t one of the popular girls or in any real clique for that matter, able to count her real friends on one hand.  Not that she minded so much, in fact she preferred it that way.  Isla portrayed a tough girl image to keep people away and hide her real emotions not bring them closer, only those she trusts are ever brought into her inner circle.  

But right now, those emotions are playing havoc with her mind, running wild down the darkest of paths and Isla wasn’t sure how to get off it.  Isla raises her hand, watching the flickering white energy sparking off her finger tips, reminding of her of the so-called gift she should be thrilled to have.  It was inherited from her father, a powerful ability he would often remind her, dangerous and yet lifegiving at the same time.  Sure, it would be an easy thing to electrocute an enemy or restart a heart that had stopped beating.  But she wasn’t interested in either, at least the going into the medical field part because that would require a lot more schooling than the young girl was willing to consider.

After releasing the built-up energy into the ground around her, she closes her eyes once more.  It was unfair as far as she was concerned, that her sister inherited their mother’s transformation magic which was much easier to learn and deal with, and quite frankly a lot more fun.  Imagine being able to turn into any person or animal you wanted to, even grow wings to fly away, ‘far away from here.’  Last Isla had overheard, her older sister was aiming for a career in law enforcement just like their father, ‘such a kiss ass!’            

She notices a pair of boys creating and throwing snowballs at each other, hitting a girl on accident who retaliates by sending a stream of water to drench them.  One of her friend’s waves as he flies through the quad with leathery wings kicking up some dust and pollen.  Ugh, it was making her envious to see them having fun.  Isla checks her watch, 7 more minutes of lunch, two more classes and it was back to her one sanctum in this world where she could hideaway in solitude.  

Three hours later, the bell rings signaling the end of classes for the day. Isla packs up and heads straight for home without speaking to anyone she passes, simply intent on holing up in her bedroom for the rest of the night.  She hears her name called out from behind as she steps through the front door of the school, but there’s no turning back today, not today.

Sage can see his friend at the front of a throng of students rushing for the exit.  He calls out a couple of times, but Isla never turns around. A slight frown mars his face, could she not hear him?  Not a remarkable notion when you consider the volume of chatter in that narrowed hallway. But ever since they had parted ways outside of Elemental Studies, he could tell that Isla was hiding something and now this only fueled his assumption that something was truly upsetting her.  

“Oi!  Tatsuo!”

He turns to see one of his buddies ambling towards him, “Whoa whassup Ande!” clapping his friend’s hand with an exaggerated handshake and quick shoulder bump type hug, “Where the hell were you last night, I thought you was gonna stop by my house?”

“That damn test was hell to study for, but I bet you breezed through it, last year.”

“Even more reason you should’a dropped by, idiot I could’a helped ya.”  

“Eh,” Ande shrugs his shoulders, “I passed with a C.” The two boys head out along the side walk towards the parking lot and their cars.  “You got plans or just going home?”

“I do, was gonna swing by and check on Isla ‘cause she seemed upset earlier.”

“Probably did bad on that test, she looked miserable when we got it back from the witch.”

“That’s what I thought too but I think it’s something else.”

“Oh.”  Stopping at his car, Ande throws his bag on the backseat then turns again to his friend. “By the way…  so, I’ve been meaning to ask,” peering around to see if anyone was nearby, he lowers his voice, “what’s the deal with you two?”

Shifting his stance, Sage’s eyes narrow and he crosses his arms in a defensive posture, “What do you mean?”

“Pfft,” rolling his eyes, the mocha colored hues flashing in amusement, “don’t give me that look.  I know you like her, so what, you gonna stay in the friend zone forever or make a move any time soon?”

Sage sighs, “It’s…  complicated okay?  I just… She’s always been, like, shy about this stuff, so I don’t wanna push anything with her unless she’s ready for it.”

Andesine laughs and shuts his door, “I don’t know why you fuss over that one, especially after what you went through with Midori, so good luck man.”

“Midori wasn’t that bad, I just wasn’t as into her as she was of me.” Exhale,“But yeah, thanks anyways.”

The pair share another friendly handshake.  “Catch ya tomorrow.”

“See ya Ande.”  Tipping two fingers at his buddy before walking towards his own car.

It was only a few blocks from the school to her house, quicker with a few shortcuts so within 20 minutes she had made it, and even more pleased to see no one was home.  Isla looks at her phone, 3:27pm, that meant her parents wouldn’t be home for at least a couple more hours.  ‘Perfect!’  First order of business was to throw on some mind-numbing music and second, her version of therapy…

When he pulls alongside the curb fronting Isla’s house, it wasn’t immediately apparent if his friend was home, but he parks anyway and takes the chance. With his long legs, Sage traverses the short footpath to the porch in just a few strides and ascends the two-step staircase.  “Isla?” knocking at the door and trying the handle.  After finding it unlocked, Sage opens it and sticks his head through. “Isla are you home?”

He can hear music coming from the direction of her room but other than that, the house was quiet, no movement or sound, letting him know she was the only person home.  Well, he’d come this far, so he makes his way down the hallway.  Louder and louder the angsty blends of grunge alternative intensifies the closer he gets to her room, blaring sounds of metal music thumping against the walls.  

Sage knocks at her door.

The razor blade is poised for the second slash when she hears someone knocking at her bedroom.  Panic grips the young girl, who the hell was in her house!  It couldn’t be her parents and her sister weren’t due for a visit anytime soon.  Didn’t she lock the front door?  ‘Oh crap!’ In her rush to numb her mind had she forgotten to lock the damn door?

“Isla?  It’s me Sage.”

What was Sage doing there!  Isla rushes around her room, clicking off the radio, throwing things into the closet, the dresser, shoving stuff under her bed until a sharp sting hits her.  She looks down at her wrist as fresh little ruby beads break through the cut she had made a few minutes ago.  It was beckoning, almost calling to her to remember the freeing sensation it conveyed, such a dark reddish hue against the paleness of her milky skin tone charming her…  

“Isla?  I can hear you moving around.  Can I come in?”

‘Damn it!’ Sage, she had forgotten about him being there!  In a panic, Isla looks around for her first aid kit.  “It’s kind of a mess, could you, um, give me a couple more minutes to clean up?”        

Sage chuckles, “I’ve seen your version of a mess, come on Isla…”

She fumbles with a bandage and gauze trying to wrap the cut and pull her gloves back on as quickly as possible. “Just give me a few minutes please!!”

He stops cold, lips twitching into a frown.  That was a harsher reaction than was warranted, even from her.  “Isla, what’s going on?”

“No…tsss. Oww, fuck!”  

“Isla… what was that?”  He tries the knob, but it was locked.  “Are you hurt!”  Banging louder on the door, “Isla, if you don’t open this door I swear I’ll break it down!”

“I’m fine Sage…  Shit!”

Hearing the second cringe and that was it for him. He slams his shoulder into the door once, but it doesn’t budge.

“Sage are you crazy!!”

“Last chance Isla unlock it, or I break the door down. You know I could crack the metal hinges easily!”

“My parents will kill me if you do that!”

“Then I suggest you open it cause I ain’t leaving! Now, I’m counting to 3,” pause, “1…  2…”

Click.

Sage opens the door and finds Isla sitting on the edge of her bed.  There are drying tears along her cheeks but looking her up and down, he couldn’t see what the cause of the pain noises could have been from.  He hurries over and kneels in front of her, “Isla what’s wrong?”

“I told you, I’m fine, just, stubbed my toe on the bed.”

He glances down and see’s boots still on her feet, then back to her with a raised eyebrow.  She’s obviously lying to him and when he notices her favoring one of her hands, he grabs her by the wrist to check it himself.  “Oww!” Isla squeals, yanking back her arm and cradling the wrist against her chest.  A new wave of tears flowing freely as the stinging pain radiates outward from the fresh cut.  

Now he’s livid and grabs her arm again from a higher point forcing the glove off.  “A bandage?” Looking back at her face, his crimson red eyes flashing in anger, “did you cut yourself?”  Isla refuses to meet his stare and shakes her head with exaggeration. Grasping her by both arms, “Isla please tell me, did you hurt yourself?”  Again, she shakes her head vigorously, no.  “Don’t lie to me!  What did you use, a razor blade?  Where is it!!”  Her eyes widen, frightened by the fury he was displaying.  She hesitates but based on the seriousness in his tone, pulls it out of her pocket to avoid being searched by force.  Sage snatches the small cutter from her outstretched palm and using his metal manipulation magic, turns it into a useless quarter sized lump.  “No more of that.”

Sage rises to his feet.  If she had failed the Elemental test, that was something he could handle.  Parents just being on her case, nothing new to him. But a friend self-harming themselves, he had no idea how to react, and as he contemplates what to do, Isla sinks onto the edge of the bed with her head hung.  There was no way she could look at him now.  Why of all people to find this out about her than her crush? Could things get any worse?  Oh, how she wanted to run the razor over her arm and let the physical pain counter the mental anguish called her life.  

He walks away to stare out of the window, bracing against the frame.  It was like having his heart ripped from his chest to see his friend in so much distress, that she had felt so alone that hurting herself had become the only recourse.  His mind berates himself for not seeing the signs, for surely there had to have been some indications that Isla had been depressed.  But as he racks his brain, trying desperately to find something, nothing special was standing out.  Yes, in hind sight she had been a bit more detached, but since she had always been a reserved person it wasn’t such a noticeable difference.    

With his back turned, Isla squeezes the bandaged wrist.  If she couldn’t cut herself to bring on the pain, she could still get it another way.  Her eyes roll back as the stinging sensation floods her consciousness and dulls the droning voices screaming in her head.  Slowly she increases the pressure of her grip, sending new waves of euphoria against her ravaged mind, it felt utterly amazing to lose herself in its swells...

“Isla No!”  Suddenly, she is ripped away from her thoughts when Sage grabs her hand to stop her personal assault.  “Are you f’ing kidding me!”  

“You don’t understand!  It makes me feel better Sage!  I’ve been so depressed over everything lately and it takes that away, it stops the voices that plague my every waking moment.”  Isla stands up and paces next to the bed.  “I hate that I have this stupid magic, my parents are always comparing me to my sister, and now that friggen class is going to drive my GPA even lower!  Even the guy I like doesn’t see me.”  Flailing her arms in the air, “nothing is going right in my life, nothing!”

“Wait, what guy?”

“Huh,” Isla stops her ranting, whipping around, “what guy?”

“Yeah, you said the guy you like doesn’t see you, who are you talking about?”

“I never said anything about a…”  she pauses from the realization, ‘oh, snap, I did, didn’t I!’  Waving her hands adamantly to wipe the slate clean, “forget you heard that part,” she resumes pulling the first aid kit back out to fix her bandage like nothing strange had just happened.  “Look, Sage, please don’t tell anyone about this.  I don’t need any more people thinking I’m a bigger weirdo or loser.”

With nothing more than his own smarts and affection to guide him, Sage, leads her back to the bed and prompts her to sit down next to him.  “Isla, I’m sorry you hate having magic, it bugs me too sometimes, but I think it makes us unique, you know, special.  With your parents, they love you, you know they do, but…  maybe they just don’t realize that some of their comments makes you feel this bad.  And, don’t worry about class, okay,” holding her hand, sweeping his thumb over the silky skin, “I’ll help you with that, together you’ll get through it.  But, why are you deflecting my question?  Isla tell me who is this guy you like since it’s bothering you so much.”

“I…” looking away, “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not, is it someone you know I’ll hate?”

“No…  He’s actuallya really great guy…”

“Do I know him?”

“Well, yeah probably better than anyone else…”

Running his free hand over his face, “Pleasedon’t tell me it’s Andesine.”

Her head whips around to look at him, “What!  Eww, no way, he’s not my type, plus his mom scares the hell out of me.”

“Then who is it?”

Isla looks down again, “I’m too embarrassed to tell you.”

Sage is torn, he doesn’t want to push too hard, concerned that doing so would drive her back to hurting herself when it seemed like he was making progress.  But he was also curious, jealouslycurious to know who his rival might be.  He sighs, noting the slight tinge of pink dusting her cheeks, and the increased warmth of her palms.  Whomever her heart belonged to was bringing out an adorable reaction from Isla and if that wasn’t just tearing his own apart.

“You know…” squeezing her hand as moisture clouds his vision, “I wish you had come to me about all of this…  We used to tell each other everything,” speaking softly with gentle underpinnings of a bruised spirit.  “Isla I’ll always be here for you… no matter what.”

She can’t bring herself to look directly at his face, but her eyes flit upward briefly, gazing through plumed lashes and noting the concern his eyes are sporting.  “I know…” a glowing flush to her skin only amplified by the darkening and spreading splotches along her chest.  “I know you are.”  At least deep down she did.

In that moment, the tough girl persona had dissolved into the Isla he knew was buried beneath the surface.  For all her flaws, she was beautiful to him inside and out, a rough diamond simply waiting to be cut and polished.  But the longer Sage soaks in her image, the more he realizes just how much he cared about the petite blonde with the dyed red hair.      

“Okay, Isla I won’t push if you don’t want to tell me. But, well…  I have a crush on someone too.”

Isla’s whole body stiffens.  Things were progressing so well, she was actually starting to feel better but with that one statement, all of those airier feelings flew right out the window as her heart sinks and all the color drains away from her face.  Of all the times for Sage to bring this up!  

She squeezes her eyes shut, barely breathing out the question, “I-Is it Nashi?”

“Nashi?” a strong rebuke in his tone, “no, it’s not her?”

“Then who is it?”  Her mind is spiraling, ‘Geez Sage just put me out of my misery already…’

“It’s you,” tilting her face up and smiling when her eyes pop open with genuine shock registering on her face.  “Isla, it’s you.”

“Me?” She blinks, his words still not sinking in.

“Yes, you.  Now will you tell me who you like?”

Isla pauses for a few seconds.  “I-I like you too Sage.”

Sage let’s out the air he didn’t realize he was holding. “Wow it’s a good thing we like each other.”  Chuckling, “cause, it’d be pretty awkward if you had said someone else.”

“But, I don’t understand…” Isla turns her head away, “why would you want to like someone like me?  I’m not pretty like your last girlfriend, and I-I mean you, well, you’re popular, and really smart, but me I’m just…” longexhale, “just a total mess.”

“You’re not a mess.  You have some issues but to me you are much prettier than Midori, and sweeter,” chuckling, “I can conduct your electricity so, I’d say we make a good match.” Caressing her cheek, “and you’re not dumb just because you struggle in science, your language and grammar skills are way better than mine.”  

Her eyes fill with moisture, “you really think so?” Sage nods his head in response.

The stirring of emotions swirling in her mind was becoming overwhelming, so she closes her eyes, drifting away to process it all.  Sage had caught her in one of her lowest moments and yet he hadn’t run but stayed to comfort her just like he had always done throughout their life. From scrapes and bruises in primary school, to fights with her sister.  Late night chats about anything or nothing.  He’d always been her best friend.  So, why had she fallen so far down the rabbit hole?  A part of her felt he deserved better, someone who didn’t seem to have so much baggage weighing them down.    

But could she break the cycle or had the slope become too slippery to climb back up from?  Isla wanted to believe everything he was saying, her heart wanted to take a sledgehammer to the wall that had been built up, but it was her mind that held back. All the what if’s plaguing it, would he hurt her in the end?  To lose not just a boyfriend, a first crush, but a best friend, could her heart take that kind of pain?  Like a drug dealer fueling its customer, the throbbing of her healing wrist harkened to her and she absentmindedly begins to rub at it.      

Sage frowns as he watches her slowly revert inwards again. “Isla?”

“Hmm?” she opens her eyes and looks at him.

“Why are you doing that?��

“Doing what?”  He points to her wrist and that’s when she realizes what she had started doing again.  “Sorry,” Isla stops rubbing her wrist, “I guess it’s become a habit.”

“Please, promise me you’ll stop hurting yourself. You mean too much to me to lose you now.”  

She blinks, this sappier side of Sage was new to her. “I…”  Taking a deep breath, could she really get better?  After a brief pause and another long exhale, she nods, “Okay, I promise Sage.”

A companionable silence falls between the pair, Isla feeling a little better about her circumstances, and he holding-out hope that she would keep her promise.  But it was a little awkward for her too, being so close and not knowing what to do next. Sage has had a girlfriend before, but Isla’s never had a boyfriend.                

She fiddles with her fingers, “Sage, um,” tucking some loose strands behind her ear, “what are we?  I mean, are we like a couple now?”

“Do you want to be?  I just didn’t want to make you feel like we had to be one if you weren’t ready yet.”

“I guess it would be okay, I mean, I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it.”

“Isla,” he cradles her cheek, sweeping his thumb over the skin, “I would love to finally call you my girlfriend.  Hmm, in fact,” Sage reaches over and picks up the former razor from where he’d dropped it, “maybe this will help.”  Using his magic, he splits the lump into two portions, manipulating their forms into new pieces.  “How about a promise ring,” slipping one onto her finger before placing the second ring on his.  “Now everyone will know we’re taken, and it’ll remind us of our promises to one another.”

“Sage…” moisture quickening at her corners and her baby blue eyes brightening, “I-I don’t even know what to say, it’s,” toying with the simple gray band, she exhales and smiles wide, “this does make me feel a lot happier.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

[eduardolimpsych101-blog]

The Jump is Beautiful

Peace has its ways to demand attention.  

According to the calendar, it has been half a year. 7 months next week to be exact. To be honest, I stopped counting at 4. It doesn't feel necessary anymore. Gone are the days where I tell myself "I can't believe it. It still doesn't feel real" and need a constant reminder that time has passed and will not go back. Now are the days where they feel the most real and where time not passing fast enough becomes my worst reminder.

My close friend committed suicide last May. And I knew it.

The night before May 15 was weird. You could call it a premonition or somewhat paranoia but I felt something was wrong. I couldn't pinpoint right away what I was feeling but my chest felt heavy and tears fell for no reason. I was scared, remembering now how I felt that evening. I had an instinct of asking one person how they were feeling. I gave words of encouragement. I admitted to them that I felt something was wrong and just wanted to make sure they were fine. Guess what? Wrong friend. Or I guess just not the right one at that moment.

My close friend committed suicide last May. And now we're lost.

I was in school cramming a group paper for a major when our barkada chat popped up. Our friend that was his course mate was the one who messaged. I started to feel my heart getting heavy. The feeling I had last night came back and my worst fears came true when he finally told us the news. I was in disbelief. We called each other up and ask who was free so we could just be together. I asked my group mates if I could just help tomorrow then left to meet with friends. It was the worst reunion ever.

What followed was a series of sleepless nights and endless bouts of crying throughout the week of his wake. Every part of his death was a reminder of the last time I missed a death. It was even in the same place. And every part of me was blaming myself again like last time. If I reached out more, maybe just maybe Peace wouldn't have to. 

The third day of his wake where I finally stopped crying excessively, I went back to our chat box and found a conversation of ours on how we were struggling to find time to meet up as a barkada. He wasn't complaining though he even said a hello across the hallway was enough. I was lucky because he had a Stat subject last year so I got to see him for like 5 minutes every other day. We would chat for a bit about anything even if we both had classes. The friendship was always that simple to him. He just love simply being together, doing nothing particularly exciting. And now that's what all we want also: to be together.

“Most of the time sapat na yun sa akin e.”

This was the second time I knew something was wrong but still chose not to do anything. This was the second time I chose not to hold on. But this will be the last time that I didn't start doing something. 

My close friend committed suicide last May. And it will not be in vain.

What we can do

My friend did not tell us at any point his diagnosis. The one time he told us anything about his mental health was when we had a reunion because one of us in the barkada was going to do a semester abroad in Japan. He opened up about going to a therapist and working on his issues with himself. He told us that he has this thing that when he is happy, he thinks that it won't last so he just sabotages it himself so at least he knows when the happiness will end. He opened up about having times where he feels depressed or feels pressured about his academics. Even during that lunch, he said he can only stay until 1 since he had to go back to school to study. This was the time I should have done more like ask how he was everyday or send words of encouragement every now and then. 

In 2017, WHO released statistics on mental health citing suicide associated with depression as the second leading cause of death among people ages 15-29. DOH also presents that the suicide rate for men and women for every 100,000 people is  2.5 and 1.7 respectively. This has become such a problem that in DOH's 2017 budget plan, 100 million was allotted for mental health drugs and 1 billion for mental health facilities. But the government can only do so much. The stigma around mental health problems as just excuses or only weaknesses of the person prevents people from seeking out help even if it is available. We must start by first educating ourselves with what depression and disorders in the same category in order to begin the process of eliminating the stigma on mental health. 

Saundra Ciccarelli (2017) explains Major Depressive Disorder as "when a deeply depressed mood comes on fairly suddenly and either seems to be too severe for the circumstances or exists without any external cause for sadness". It some sense it is not logical. It is not something you can eliminate in their sight so they can feel better. Neither is it something you can reason them out of. 

According to Ciccarelli causes of depression may be: 

1. Repressed anger towards authority figures

2. Learned helplessness (tendency to stop trying after past failures)

3. Self-defeating thoughts

4. Variation in neurotransmitter systems

With the first reason, consultations with family guidance counselors may be done or just having a more open conversation as a family can help. For the second and third reason, extra caution in the words we use must be made. Every mistake they make, they will amplify and intensify guilty feelings. It is important to not only think about what we say but also how we say it. I implore you to read more upon this so you can understand what a person having depression or depressive moods is going through. Asides from what is mentioned, it is important we are also aware of the free facilities and services near our places that can accommodate new clients. 

Me taking Psych 101 and writing this blog post is just step number 1. He has changed my life and many others'.

Farewell

To Edel,How weird is it that the only time I talk to you at length is for a subject. Last time it was for Eng 10 case study, now for Psych 101. I guess you understand me anyway. 

You were the first person not to question my insecurities when making friends with what I called "popu" kids. You just kept on trying and eventually you broke down the wall I put up. You are one of my best friends and I'm sorry I never told you that. You were always there to help everyone in our group even if that meant you driving out of the way just to go to us. I remember you fetching me one time at my house so I wouldn't be hassled with transportation to your despedida. I remember you baking cookies for a girl that eventually gave it away (tough man but hey at least you learned how to bake haha). I remember you taking on 3+ roles for your section's school play. I remember you. In all ways you never looked at yourself. You are the kindest, most generous, and loving person. 

But you weren't without your flaws. 

You had your own wall, one where I only noticed far too late in our friendship. It wasn't like you weren't open about your emotions just not specific ones. I just wished I caught onto it so I could've convinced you that you were a far greater person that what you think. If I saw every doubt when it came to your decisions, I would've told you that I was proud no matter what choice. If I saw every hesitation when you wanted to speak, I would've made you feel comfortable until you were ready to tell us. 

But really, would I have? Because it is because of you that right now I am not afraid to ask people how they are doing. I don't care if I come off as FC. It is because of you that I talk about my feelings to my friends and to God. It is because of you that I learned to love my friends explicitly. I just wished that "because of you" wasn't in exchange for you. 

I miss you. I miss you everyday. We miss you everyday. And right now are days are still pretty heavy but they will get better because you gave us a reason to be better for each other and for you. Thank you for everything. I'll see you when I see you and don't worry I'll give you more than a high five. 

To everyone suffering in even the most simplest way, you are enough and more than enough all at the same time. 

A sight is never too beautiful to resist.