#Uhh I don’t have a tag for the au yet but I’ll add it once I have a name

[everyothermouse]

Hmhm I love you I love the au u made I need the p l o t but I don’t want to bother you uhhh was yea ok <:)

ok!!! Basically there are 2 plots that converge, a silly lil camp in the woods and a fae love story! Let’s go under the cut for this cus I’m gonna be explaining them for a hot minute lol

I’m gonna make a breakdown of all the individual characters in a minute but for now here’s a chart I just finished so u know whos where in all this

(Eros not on here but he’s a forest folk) So I’ll give u an expo on both of the plots (feel free to come ask questions as ur reading or after ur done, I would Love to talk abt this au as much as possible)

The fae side: Eliana here’s from two of her townsfolk (the twins) that there are fae in the woods. All her fellow townspeople say they’re just being pranksters again (the amount of times they’ve tried to convince the town there’s totally a werewolf just outside of town is too many for them to be a trustworthy source- and as aspiring nightwalker hunters of course they’re trying to spot fae in every leaf and under every rock), but Eliana, curious, decides to sneak off one night to investigate. After all if there’s a fae out there, it’s her responsibility to ward it off from her town! what she finds though is not a silly lie from the twins or a terrifying manipulative monster- in A flower patch she sees her, the most beautiful charming looking fairy she’s every seen, all alone weaving a flower crown in the woods. He spots her, and although she’s scared at first and wards them with her axe, she can’t bear to attack him. they hit it off really quickly, and Shirley shows her the beauty of the hidden parts of the forest, lit up by the magic of the moon, as opposed to the normal sunlit forest Eliana is used to. She returns home at dawn with promises to come back the next day. Meanwhile Shirley goes home to his ghost husband like ‘omg I just met the prettiest lady evr, she’s coming back tomorrow can we keep her’ and Thomas is like ‘bro we already have jr‘ and Shirley is like ‘no but I want to kiss her 🥺 and hold hands 🥺🥺🥺 and trap her in the fae lands forever with me 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺’ and Thomas is obviously slightly jealous but he’s like ‘yeah whatever’ bcus he knows if Shirley does try and make out with some daywalker he’s prolly gonna kill her by accident anyways jdgfufndkc. so Eliana starts going out every night with the excuse that she’s choppin down wood, (ninas suspicious of this excuse but Michael tells her eliana wouldn’t lie,) and Shirley keeps trying to get her to stay forever and eat all their food and introduces her to Thomas and jr and stuff, and it’s nice and all but shirleys making her stay for longer and longer, and he can’t handle letting her go for even a second. Eliana doesn’t mind tho, she’s totally blind with love, and eventually she’s tells the town abt Shirley but that he’s totally not like other fae and definitely cool and there’s mixed feelings, some ‘awwww Eliana finally found a girlfriend, so sweet 🥰’s and some ‘they’re not different ur just being manipulated, we should go kill him’s and even some ‘huh, wasn’t that the name of the guy Harley was crying abt not being able to remember, lol crazy coincidence, Emerson let’s go bully harley’s.

yeah but Shirley has fucking crazy attachment issues and horrible death magic, so eventually one morning he does get REALLY upset abt his girlfriend leaving, like the whole tree (Thomas and Shirley live in a treehouse) is dying around him and Thomas is holding jr begging him to calm down, and Elianas finally like ‘hmm. Maybe this was a bad idea’ and that’s about where we are rn with that whole thing.

CAMP TIME: so as shown from chart above, there’s some ppl living in a lil forest camp together :) emi and graci moved there because they wanna learn how to hunt nightwalkers >:) there was a reason for it a couple years ago but they kind of forgot what it was (cough Shirley disappearing cough) but they’re still dead set on it! And lucky dink, as they’re moving to camp big Harley comes home to visit his brothers and ends up joining the camp for a bit since all 3 of his brothers are there! Camp Side of the story doesn’t have a ton of plot, mostly Harley low key having a crisis abt how busy his life at his actual home is and how everything feels so horribly off here even though hypothetically things haven’t changed much since he left and the twins fucking around and causing trouble around camp. Hallow thinks it’s funny that the stupid kids wanna hunt night walkers cus he is one, so he gives them the tip that theres a vampire in camp and they become dead set on it being Jane. All the kids like playing with Ben like he’s a whole ass jungle gym, he thinks it’s cute. kibi gets dragged around by emi and graci while they try to find the werewoof at the edge of town (sadly they only find Andy, darn, but he plays them some songs so not a total waste. also yes Andy is obviously the werewolf the twins are just stupid GDSHDSJD.) charlotte sits around crying and the other kids and counselors like to play a game where they all take turns trying to make her laugh (the first time the twins came to camp Emerson made her giggle, belle and Ben were so happy they were just sitting there sobbing bcus their girl finally smiled again, so Charlie quietly suggested they make it a new daily game because he hadn’t seen Ben and belle that hopeful in years :,) ). jr and Maria go around biting peoples ankles and collecting sticks. After hearing emi and graci talk abt town, Jane decided she wants to go visit town, Danny‘s super hesitant but the other 3 camp counselors all agree that since she’s 16 now she’s definitely old enough to go where she wants. While shes there she goes to a festival and meets Andy (17) and it’s nice :) also hallow has ero Boyf who visits sometimes and Danny’s got husb Sébastien who he and Jane visit a lot.

ya that’s pretty much all the plot stuff for now! there’s some more backstory stuff abt thomas dying with Charlotte watching and Shirley going missing and what not but yea that’s pretty much it :D

[theaviskullguy]

Ink and Petals

@dapple-dualies-propaganda here's the au

Tattoo artist! Rider x Florist! Goggles

hope you enjoy!

---------

When was it not busy at Squid ink?

It was one of the top Tattoo Parlors in Inkopolis. and it was also on a pretty busy street. So, it got a lot of customers. Also the fact that one of the artists was a famous turfer.

Rider hadn't formerly retired, but he had eased out of playing Turf Wars. He had found other interests outside of the sport: Theater, art, reviewing old movies online... He still did Turf from time to time, albeit the adult league. He was too old for the more popular teen division.

So, he found a job as a tattoo artist. And he rather loved it. Not only did most of his friends consult him for tattoo advice (from where the best places are to good designs), but he also knew some gossip. One of his regulars had beef with her neighbor because he has a pet raccoon who keeps stealing her trash and Rider could NOT wait to hear more about this story.

Another thing was, well, Rider had seen some shit. From people covered head to toe in tats, to people eagerly wanting their first tattoo, even to shyer folk who wanted one to defy controlling parents or to mark something important.

None of that prepared Rider for the news he got when tattooing one of the customers. More specifically, Gloves.

You see, Gloves had been coming in for the past few days. They had wanted a pretty complicated butterfly tat, so for the last 3 days Rider has been exchanging stories with the resident enby about... pretty much anything.

This is how this exchange happened;

"So you remember Goggles, right?" Gloves asked.

Rider rolled his eyes. "What, you think I'd forget the guy who kept pulling down my pants?"

"Oh ha ha. Anyways, apparently he works at that flower shop now."

"...He what?"

"You heard me!" They said. "I went there yesterday to get something for a project and there was Goggles! He misses you, 'ya know!"

Rider was just. quiet. He hadn't talked to his crush in a while, contact dwindled when Rider stopped doing Turf as much. Never once did he think Goggles would miss him, but that was probably the self hatred talking.

"...I'll think about it." Was all Rider said.

The conversation continued like nothing happen; Gloves saying multiple cursed things and Rider sharing interesting stories he heard on his job. Time flew by and soon, the tattoo was done; a butterfly with the bi colors on one wing and the nb colors on the other. Rider was quite proud of it, and Gloves seemed to like it. They waved, and left the store, humming to themselves.

Rider looked at the clock. His shift ended in just a few minutes. He knew he had no other appointments that day, so he took to watching old recorded matches in his phone.

Those were over a decade ago. Yet he still remembered everything. His favorite part was still learning he won a match by such a small margin. It was just... amazing.

He sighed. Rider missed those battles. But he has to say, he missed his crush a bit more.

He clocked out, saying goodbye to the other employee-Cherry (business relationships were easy to maintain when your coworkers were your siblings), and headed towards the flower shop for more reasons than one.

Army had a performance the next day. And yeah, Rider knew it was romantic, but platonically giving your best friend flowers was always nice. Plus, he wanted an excuse to see Goggles again.

He looked into the shop-the blue inkling was nowhere to be seen, but then again neither was the front desk. So, Rider shrugged and stepped in.

The floral scent was strong, but not overwhelming. Plenty of blossoms lined the stands, along with tags of what the flowers were and what they meant.

Rider looked around, trying to remember which flowers Army liked again, when he heard a familiar, youthful voice.

"Hi! Need any help?"

The inkling turned around. Goggles had definitely changed since Rider last saw him; his tentacles were longer and in an actual bun, for once. His blue eyes still had that clarity, and he still had that goofy smile. Though he didn't seem to recognize Rider.

"Uhh... I'll be fine. I'm just trying to remember what flower my friend likes the most." He said, hoping his accent didn't give him away; there weren't many in Inkopolis with an Australian accent.

But, Goggles didn't seem to notice or care. "Oh, okay!"

Rider internally breathed a sigh of relief. That would have been awkward if Goggles recognized him.

He looked around the shop, before spotting a bouquet of lilies. He knew Army liked lilies. If they weren't his favorite flower, it'd be close enough.

Rider took a few of the bigger ones, and a few white roses for variety, and took them to the counter.

Goggles smiled. "This a special occasion?"

"Not exactly. Just, my friend's doing a performance for a musical and I wanted to get him something for it." Rider explained.

"What musical?" Gogs asked, arranging the flowers with a sheer, white ribbon tying them together.

"Hadestown. He got Eurydice."

"Oh! I went to go see it last night! Army's amazing at that role. He's your friend, right?"

Rider internally panicked, but calmed down after remembering he wasn't Army's only friend. "Yeah. We've been friends for a while now."

"Well, tell him I said hi!" He handed the bouquet to Rider. "On me, alright? It's for a friend anyways!"

Rider nodded. "Thanks, mate."

"You're welcome!"

------

A few weeks went by. Rider occasionally stopped at the flower shop and got flowers for...well, no real reason. He'd use them to add color to his house, or give them to friends. He just wanted an excuse to see Goggles.

He'd talked to the blue inkling a bit more, too. He'd gotten into the business since, well, he really liked flowers, and he wanted a job where he could just...relax! He still did Turf, of course, but the Adult league was more serious than the teen one, and he just wanted to have fun instead of be expected to take a game seriously.

He still didn't recognize Rider. The yellow-green inkling was a bit hurt by this, to be honest.

Though, it was a bit startling when Goggles actually walked into Rider's work. And Rider was assigned to give Goggles his first tattoo: A blue jay on his shoulder, taking off from a branch.

This time, it was Goggles' turn to ask questions as Rider worked.

"Sooo.... you've been coming into my shop for a while and I still don't know your name!" The blue inkling stated. "I mean, you can probably recognize me though!"

Rider shrugged. "Well, who can forget Goggles of the Idiot Blue team?"

Goggles giggled. "You do know me! I still don't know you!!"

"...I can assure you, we've met before that day I got Army flowers." Rider said.

"Ooh! Can I try and guess who you are?"

"Ehh, why not."

"Okay! Umm..." Goggles thought for a moment. "Clams facemask?"

Rider shook his head. "Nope."

"Inkfall?"

"Wrong."

"Eging Jr?"

"Not even close there."

"Stealth Goggles?"

"Getting closer, I'll give you that."

"....Rider?" Goggles asked.

Rider chuckled. "Took you long enough, idiot."

Goggles smiled wide. "I finally found you! Hi Riri!"

"Hey, Gogs. It's been a while."

"Yeah! I'm a bit surprised I didn't recognize you, since we were pretty close!" Goggles stated.

Rider shrugged. "Well, I'm not the most memorable person anyways."

"Riderrrrr don't say that!" Goggles said. "You're still really popular!"

"To some people, maybe. Not everyone."

There was a tense silence, other than the hum of the tattoo needle as it made the drawing.

"....So." Goggles started again. "How's life?"

"It's...well, better than it was." Rider said. "Got my own place, for one. Though it gets a bit lonely.. You?"

"I'm still living in an apartment. I really want a roommate!" Goggles proclaimed. "Maybe we could move in together?"

"..I'll think about it, Gogs. Though it might be fun being your roommate."

"Really? Thanks Rider!" Goggled smiled.

The conversation grew more casual. Rider enjoyed it; turns out Goggles had his fair share of gossip. It was kinda cool.

And as the next few days passed, Rider looked forward to each of those sessions. His crush seemed to go from "this person would be fun to date i think" to "hOLY MOTHER OF THE GODS IM IN L O V E", and it didn't help that during those meetings, Goggles had to be shirtless.

The days turned into weeks and months. Goggles moved in with Rider, and the two became incredibly close friends.

And, it came to a head near valentines day. Goggles' shop was very busy, as expected. Luckily, Squid Ink wasn't as much.

So, on his day off, just before Valentines, Rider headed to the flower shop and got a bouquet of roses. Cliché to confess on Valentines day, Rider knew, but he's a pining gay cut him some slack.

And Rider came home right as Goggles was leaving for his shift. So, that left Rider with a good 3 hours to practice his confession.

"Alright, Rider. This has to be CASUAL. 'Hey, I've liked you for over a decade but just now had the confidence to confess!' No, too creepy sounding. 'Yo, Gogs. I really like you and maybe we could go out to dinner sometimes?' ...Too casual."

....Yeah, this went on for a while.

Rider groaned, collapsing his his bed. "I wish feelings were fucking easier...I should just call Army."

So, he grabbed his phone and selected the contact, Veronica Sawyer Kinnie

"C'mon, Army... pick up."

And not one ring later, "Rider, what is it?"

"...I need romantic help. Please." Rider asked.

"Look, just because I'm married to Aloha, doesn't mean I know how I ended up here."

"Yeah, I kinda know that." He stated. "Still. I really need some help."

Army sighed. "Who is it? It's totally that one person with the raccoon story-"

"Actually, no. It's, um.... It's Goggles."

The octoling on the other end of the line could be heard sighing. "Still a morosexual I see."

"OI! You're the one who married a fuckin himbo!"

".....Touché. Still, there's a difference."

Rider huffed. "Just... give me some advice. I wanna confess to him tomorrow but I've got no idea how. I'm giving him roses, but like, there's gotta be something more I could do, y'know?"

"Have you tried asking Prince?" Army suggested. "He is the one with the obsession with rom coms and romance novels."

"This is his exam period, Army. I'm not about to potentially interrupt a cram session by asking for romantic advice!"

"Fair enough. I'd say...well, just rip off the band aid. Like... 'Hey, Goggles, I really like you and was wondering if you'd like to be my boyfriend.'"

"...Thanks, Arm. I'll, uh, give it a try."

-------

Rider couldn't sleep that well. Mainly out of anticipation.

He was gonna confess to his crush of...over a decade, at least. He didn't fuckin know what was gonna happen!

Like, would Goggles reciprocate? Would he hate Rider after it? WHAT THE FUCK WOULD HAPPEN-

He sighed. He needed to get his mind off this shit.

Rider looked over to his bedside clock: 5AM. 5 hours before his shift. 5 hours to get his shit together and plan for confessing to the world's cutest but also dumbest man later that night.

C'mon, Rider. Think. Army said to rip it off like a band aid, but Goggles might find that a little sudden and out of the blue. He could write a letter and leave it for Goggles when he went to his shift (The flower shop was closed on Valentines day). That would be a safe option.

Rider sat up, and got out a piece of paper and pencil, writing a note.

"Hey, Goggles.

There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while. I really, really like you. As in, a crush.

I totally get it if you don't like me back, or think I'm weird, but hey, I was wondering if you'd wanna go out to dinner or something. Probably not tonight cause of Valentine's day but maybe tomorrow night or something.

-Rider"

Quickly, he folded it and wrote Goggles' name, putting a little heart sticker on it. It was corny, but hey, Rider had to use up those stickers somehow.

Rider attached it to the roses, and kept it on his desk.

And so, the morning went as normal. He had breakfast, got out of his pjs, put his hair up... the usual.

But as Rider left to go to work, he left the note and rose on the table, and left the house quickly.

During the day, he nearly forgotten all about it; He caught up with the gossip-Apparently the neighbor with the raccoon and the regular were now dating. So that was a nice little end to the story.

Squid Ink wasn't AS busy-probably because it was Valentines day, people were spending it with their lovers, not getting inked up (unless they made the appointment when single)

And it was near the end of Rider's shift when he heard his name mentioned. Probably someone making an appointment before he heard the familiar voice of Goggles going "Okay!!"

The blue inkling walked over to his station. "Hi Ridey!!"

"...Hey, Gogs. Getting another tat?" Rider asked, trying to keep his cool.

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!!!"

"A'ight anything specific in mind or-"

"Can I get just a simple quote one?"

Rider nodded. "Where do you want it?"

Goggles pulled down the collar of his shirt slightly. "Right here, please!"

"Okay. Just try to keep holding that down so I don't mess up.

-----

And so, tattoo conversations ensued.

The quote Goggles had wanted was a simple Pride one, that said "love is love". It was discreet, but a bit of it could be seen poking out if Goggles ever wore a v-neck.

"So, any plans for tonight?" Rider asked, trying to keep things subtle. Maybe Goggles hadn't read the note yet.

The blue inkling nodded. "Kinda! I had mental plans buuuuut nothing serious."

Rider raised an eyebrow. "Who with?"

"..I m-mean, I still have to ask him.." Goggles' face turned a shade of blue, and he averted his gaze.

"....Can I guess who he is?"

"If ya can!"

He smiled. "Does his name have an R in it?" Rider had a guess it was himself, but it wouldn't hurt to check.

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!"

"Got an accent?"

"Yep!!"

"Is he doing your tattoo?"

"....y-yeah?" Goggles sheepishly smiled. "I'm n-not that discreet, am I?"

Rider chuckled, but on the inside he was screeching. "Honestly? I had no clue myself."

"Really? I've been dropping the most obvious hints!"

"...Like what?" Rider asked, now a bit curious.

"Welllll I've been picking movies you like during movie night, I've made sure to get your drink on coffee runs, Oh! And I offered to cook dinner that one time!" Goggles stated.

"...Damn. I'm just oblivious then." The former dynamo user laughed, before turning off the needle. "There. It's all done." Rider held up a mirror for the blue boy.

Goggles' face lit up. "Whoa! It looks amazing!!! Thanks Riri!"

Rider smiled. "You're welcome. Now, uh, ...did you read my note?"

"..Y-yeah, I did. And, um...I like you too Rider!!" The blue man pressed a small, quick kiss to Rider's cheek.

Rider blushed. "S-so, you'll let me t-take you out?"

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!!!"

"I...thanks, Gogs."

"You're welcome Riri!!!"

----------

aAAAAA RUSHED END

but like. hope yall enjoy!

[khadij-al-kubra]

Worst Impressions are the First (ch 7)

Main Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil (Human AU)

Pairings: Romantic LAMP

Word Count: 5036

AO3

<=PREV

NEXT=>

Author’s (longer than usual but it’s for good reason) Note: *The Apocalypse—2020. Zoom in on a plague rat turned writer. She has survived thesis projects, getting a Master’s degree, burnout, writing and illustrating a children’s book, being a slave for the U.S. census bureau, months of overthinking anxiety spirals, and one or two incidents involving an asshole skunk. But now, battle weary yet unwavering in her love of art and love for her loyal readers, this onesie-clad tea slurping book dragon....has finally arisen from the ashes*

I LIVE BITCHES!!!!!!! And I am SO SORRY for taking so long!!! I’ve been hard at work, been editing like a mad woman, and I even have a beta now! The gorgeous and talented @humbletortoise So I  am OFFICIALLY off hiatus!!! *cue confetti canon* 

Also, one of the biggest reasons I’ve taken so long to update is because I’ve spent the past month or so essentially retconning the fuck outta this fic. I realized looking back at earlier chapters in this story that, although I was proud of them at the time and greatly appreciate the positive reactions, they were...not my best work. (shitty first drafts if I’m being honest) That’s because, at the time, I was trying to split my attention between writing this fic and working on grad school stuff, which resulted in my writing for this not being as best of quality as it could have been upon first posting. This story deserves my best, and so do all of you. So now I hope to give you that. 

I encourage you to go back and re-read the previous chapters up till now (trust me, they’re near unrecognizable to the first drafts, but in the best way). Or if you don’t feel like doing that, you can just continue on from here. totally cool. For the sake of convenience and my own sanity, I’ll attach the AO3 Link to this fic from the start. I may also start just posting chapter updates on tumblr but only have the link to the chapter and add my reader tags. Again, for the sake of my sanity because Tumblr is a bastard when it comes to posting fics. (Also PLEASE let me know if there are any tagging issues if anyone’s on my tags list; yet another reason i’m considering just linking my fics in the future)

Anywho, without further ado, at LOOOOOONG last, here is the next chapter!

Chapter 7 - (POV Roman)

When Roman had offered to walk with Logan to class, it was only partly out of an innate sense of chivalry; a side of himself that he rarely got to show on account of being a socially awkward gay disaster. Though mainly, he saw it as a chance to get to know his second soulmate better.

He certainly hadn’t expected two long minutes of civil but silent walking. Well, as silent as a stroll through their school could be with its usual racket buzzing around them. With a vocabulary as big as the continents of Africa and Eurasia combined, you’d think Logan would be more of a conversationalist. Alas. He merely walked in step with Roman. They glanced over at each other every so often, but Logan stayed tight lipped and seemingly impassive; fiddling with his bumblebee hair pin every now and again. Damn. Looked like he was going to have to make the first move.

Roman was bad at this. How did people usually…Oh yeah, common interest. That’s a thing. He wracked his brain for some sort of ice breaker. One that’d make him look cool and calm or, something, in front of Logan. He was a fairly decent student though not quite mathletes level. He could compliment his outfit maybe? Was that too forward? Too shallow? Maybe he could find common ground? That was as good a place to start as any.

“So! So uhh…What kind of music do you like?” Roman asked. Yeah, that’s good. Everybody likes music.

Logan glanced at him. “Can you be more specific?”

Roman’s brow furrowed. “I mean, like, your favorite genre of music to listen to?”

“Classical,” said Logan in a clipped tone.

“That’s cool. I don’t really listen to classical myself.”

Logan only hummed, his face neutral. Roman was really hoping for more than that. A few awkward seconds passed, then Logan spoke up.

“Are you perhaps a fan of the classic Sherlock Holmes novels?” He inquired.

“Um, I haven’t gotten around to the books yet, actually,” Roman said, scratching his earlobe. “I mean, I’ve heard great things about them. And I’m a big fan of the Robert Downey Jr. movies.”

“Ah. I see.” Logan said, giving him the judgiest side eye.

Come on, Roman thought. Give me something to work with. “Oh! What about theater?”

“What a frustratingly vague inquiry.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to get to know my soulmate a little better.” Ay come jode, work with me here, man!

Logan sighed. “While I understand and appreciate your intention, I believe ‘getting to know someone’ as you put it, requires a certain level of specificity. Anything less indicates a somewhat shallow level of sincere interest, and I greatly despise shallow conversation. That said, if you’re inquiring as to whether or not I enjoy theater, no. I don’t understand the concept of professional make believe, though I appreciate it as an art form. I assume you’re a fan?”

Is he seriously implying I’m shallow? Roman groused, pushing his red frames up the bridge of his nose. Ugh, forget it Roman. He’s throwing you a bone here. Take it.

“Obviously,” said Roman, gesturing dramatically. “I mean I’m no actor—Eesh. No. Yikes—but everything about the artform enthralls me. And I like all kinds of genres and eras of plays, from Shakespear to Ruhl, but musicals are by far my favorite, because like, there’s so much you can do with them design wise. I mean just look at how groundbreaking Hamilton was.”

For a second, Logan’s face actually softened, his eyes lighting up. But just as Roman thought they were finally about to make some progress, his stony companion was back to wearing that platinum puss.

“Ah. How… original.”

Roman blinked. “Are you saying my tastes are basic?”

“Well, yes.”

Augh! Okay. Yep. I don’t like him. Patton was going to be so disappointed, and Roman was too. He’d wanted so badly to get along with all his soulmates, but Logan was a snob! Way less intimidating than Virgil and his ilk, but still a jerk. I wonder if soulmarks can make typos or something? Thank the stars they’d already arrived.

Roman and Logan filed in with the rest of the class for seventh period. Somebody had the liberty of opening a window– the AC was still busted in this classroom– so for once there was actually a decent breeze cutting through the usual mucky Florida humidity. Still smelled like it would probably rain later. Good thing Roman had packed an umbrella just in case, Mom’s orders. His hair looked too good today to be wrecked by frizz.

Roman took a seat at his desk, running distracted fingers over the carved letters in the wood while he mulled over his predicament. Just look at him over there, thought Roman as he glared at Logan, not two rows away from him. Sitting with his hands clasped on the desk all smug—of course he’d be near the front—and with such disturbingly good posture. What is he, a robot? Who is he to call my interests basic, the NERVE! And okay, sure, like Hamilton, sometimes I get over excited and shoot off at the mouth. But great Zeus, does that guy show passion for ANYTHING besides academics? Roman blew a raspberry, plopping his head in his hands.

He always thought soulmates were supposed to get along, even as just friends for life. Balancing each other out, bringing out the best in you and forming a deep connection—that was the whole point. He sighed to himself. Cymbals clashed less than he and Logan did.

He was stirred from his brooding by the bell. Apparently Mr. ‘Call-me-Terrence’ Williams had materialized without him noticing. Okay fine, he should probably pay more attention, but he was having a crisis here.

“Afternoon everyone,” Terrence greeted in that measured, upbeat tone of his.  

He draped his navy blue blazer over the back of his desk chair and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbows. Roman pitied the poor guy;  he had to teach sauna of a classroom all day. He could see the glisten of sweat on his teacher's smooth forehead as he wrote things on the board. Yet he still kept a pleasant attitude towards his students.

“Alright class!” Terrence started, “Today we’re covering the next section on the American Revolution. Specifically, the Battle of Yorktown...”

Roman mentally punched the air. My time has come. He opened his textbook to the right page but didn’t bother looking at it. He already knew most everything about Yorktown. Not just because he’d listened to the Hamilton soundtrack fifteen and a half million times, but also because he’d done actual research on the event and time period that the musical took place; There was always the off chance he’d get to stage crew or, heck, even dramaturg the show. He liked to be prepared.

“So the battle of Yorktown took place in 1781, but a great deal of its success was thanks to the French Allies. Many especially aided in fighting the British Troops surrounding New York. Now who can tell me where the French Soldiers first landed?”

Roman half raised his hand. He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Logan.” Terrence called.

Roman turned to Logan desk, where his hand was held high and mighty.

“The French Ally ships first landed in Rhode Island, then made their way to Chesapeake Bay,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses. Not even a hint of second guessing in his voice.

“That’s right!”

He almost missed the quick smirk on Logan’s frustratingly pretty face. Look at that smug—thinks he’s so smart...Okay yes, he is smart, but he doesn’t have to be a show off about it. Terrence continued through the passages, calling on a student every now and again to review. Of course, Logan got called on most and he got every answer right. Roman didn’t feel like raising his hand anymore.

“Of course there were many turning points in the revolution, but Hamilton’s return to the field for Yorktown was a key point.” Terrence continued on. “And keep in mind- this was a man who up till now had never been in a position of command before. Not to mention the mental strains he must’ve been under, especially having had to miss the birth of his son Philip, the first of three children he had.”

Wait a sec. “Well, that’s not right.”

Even though he’d muttered, apparently Mr. Terrence still heard him. “Come again, Roman?”

Shoot. “Um, I said,” Stop sounding timid, you know you’re right. “I said that was, um, wrong.”

The whole class turned to him. Oh great, history class has its eyes on me. Roman cleared his throat and tried to look taller.

“What I mean is: Hamilton had eight kids, not three. And on top of that, Phillip was born a few months after they won the Revolution, not during, so Hamilton didn’t miss the birth of his son. I mean sure, it’s a small thing, but the devil’s in the details as they say. Heh.”

Terrence gave the most insultingly bemused look. And Roman definitely heard a few kids snickering behind him. He glanced quickly at the culprits and felt his ears go hot. This is what he got for putting himself in the spotlight.

“Roman, I applaud you for participating in the class discussion,” Their teacher started gently, “but I’m afraid you’re wrong on this one. If you read your textbook close you’d see in the fifth paragraph where it mentions from one of his later letters—“

“Actually Mr. Williams, if I may, Roman is correct.”

Roman saw Logan at his desk, one hand raised while the other adjusted his neck scarf. Was the teacher’s pet actually… backing him up?

“It is a common misconception that Alexander Hamilton only had two children, even more so modernly, what with the musical having only named two of them. However Roman has clearly done his research on the plays historical accuracies, which is more than I can say for some.”

Logan shot a cool but scathing look at their recently snickering classmates and they withered. Roman fought the urge to point and laugh aloud. He did however stick his tongue out real quick. What? He could be shy and petty at the same time.

“My guess,” Logan continued, “is that this textbook edition is also either misprinted or outdated, judging by the publication date in the copyright section.”

Brows furrowed, Terrence looked at the textbook laid open on his desk. He flipped back to the front, before pulling out his cellphone—“I’m the teacher, I’m allowed to do this. You guys aren’t.”—and after what Roman guessed was a quick Google search, their teacher looked up. His eyebrows drawn in a ‘hm, well damn’ expression.

“Looks like you’re right, Roman. And thank you Logan for bringing to my attention about the textbooks. I’ll have to talk to the principal about hopefully getting some updated materials. But we’ll see how that goes,” Terrence, muttered the last part, though Roman was close enough to catch it. Terrence cleared his throat and moved back to the board. “Maybe if we call on assistance from the inside. Much like how the Sons of Liberty sent in Hercules Mulligan to spy on the British...”

“Perhaps if we knew of an immigrant who was unafraid to step in,” Logan said just under his breath.

No one else seemed to notice the reference, but when Roman did, he felt like a mini volcano about to burst rainbow lava. Apparently there was a lot more to his soulmate than first meets the eye; and now that he knew, Roman was determined to see more of it. The rest of class passed quickly and everyone filed out to the halls as the first bell for the last class period of the day rang. Roman made sure to catch up to Logan on the way out and staccato tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Logan?” He said.

When Logan turned, he swore time slowed down for a moment. The brilliant boy’s skirt flared around his waist, and somehow his skin glowed even under the dull, inconsistent school lights. His posture was erect yet natural, he could have been raised among nobility. Amidst the stench and clamor of loud sweaty students, Logan was as poised and striking as the goddess Athena. Oh...

“Yes, Roman?” Logan asked.

Roman gulped. “I uh, just wanted to thank you for backing me up in there.”

“Thanks are unnecessary,” Logan said. “I detest when someone is shamed by other students for speaking up in class, regardless of whether or not they have the correct information.”

“Well regardless, thanks for coming to my aid in the face of academic danger.”

“Dramatic, but my pleas—oof!”

A hurried passerby bumped into Logan from behind, rushing off with a half-assed ‘sorry’. Logan, caught off guard, stumbled right into Roman’s arms. The two looked at each other, cheeks filling with heat. Roman caught a whiff of something faintly floral on Logan, something natural– a lavender and honeysuckle perfume, perhaps. It was heavenly. They were still in the middle of foot traffic though, so he maneuvered them to the side. Which was tricky since Logan was still so close to him and also a good two inches taller with the heels.

“Well,” Roman flashed his pearly whites. “Seems you’ve fallen for me.”

Logan pulled away, but his lips quirked upwards in a teasing smirk. “Oh please, I merely stumbled into you.”

“Ah, but stumbling is the first step towards being swept off your feet.”

“Bold words from an abashedly charming homunculus in such an… eye catching ensemble.”

Did he call me charming!? He composed himself, “Hey, don’t let the sweater vest fool you. I may be short but I’ve got guns.”

“Aaah. But mind over muscle, as they say. Do you find yourself up to the task?”

“Only if it’s you, my brainy blossom.”

Roman’s class was in the other direction, but Logan didn’t need to know that. They walked through the halls, conversing. class was still in the next ten or so minutes, but Roman was having fun. Banter with Logan felt surprisingly easy. Natural like they’d been at it all their lives.

“By the way, was that a ‘Guns n’ Ships’ reference I overheard, pastel poindexter?” Roman asked.

Logan cleared his throat. “It… may have been, yes. I found myself unable to resist toppling the figurative dominos.”

“In other words, you seized the opportunity you saw,” Roman said, matching his own reference to the source’s cadence, which got a chuckle out of Logan.

“Precisely. Under more casual circumstances, I may have even recited Lafayette’s part.”

“You can rap? You can rap Guns n’ Ships? Like, the whole thing, no tongue twists?”

Logan stopped for a moment, turned to Roman. The taller boy cleared his throat, and after a moment wherein he seemed to mentally restrain himself, he simply adjusted his glasses.  “I have an appreciation for poetry.”

Roman blinked rapidly. Holy shit, he’s an even bigger nerd than I am. He definitely needed to see that at some point.

They turned a corner, stopping just outside of the science room. Some students were going in to take their seats, and the teacher was already making notes on the board. Logan pulled an AP Physics book from his backpack, but made no move to leave, much to Roman’s delight.

“So then,” Roman leaned against the eggshell wall, “How come you acted so indifferent earlier and called my tastes basic? Oh, and I think I remember you also implied I was shallow?”

Okay, yeah, he was still kind of salty about that. But then he saw the shamed look on the nerd’s face, and Roman wished he could have taken it back. Logan looked at his shoes then back at him.

“To be candid I was… hesitant to show the full extent of my enthusiasm. In case you thought I’d be—I believe ‘being the most’ is the term— it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve caused someone to lose interest in conversing with me due to informational overload. I nearly bored my Aunt Patricia to sleep once talking about a fascinating article on jellyfish. And considering how I blundered our initial meeting—“

“Pfft, ya think?” He mentally slapped himself again when Logan went tight-lipped and turned to go. “No, no, wait. I—I’m sorry. Truly. ...Truth is, I was no gentleman either. I’m not always great at thinking before I speak. It’s why I’m so awkward around people. Takes a while for my true charming nature to shine through.”

“Clearly. Still, you show a level of interpersonal aptitude that I, well, lack.” Logan fiddled with his hair pin again and a stray hair came loose. “Reading people and expressing emotions has never really been—It’s something I struggle with.”

Much as Logan tried to maintain his cool composed posturing, Roman could tell that this was something that really bothered him. He tried so hard to seem put together and confident and serious, but really he was just as awkward and insecure as anyone. Roman smiled softly and stepped closer to Logan, reaching up to tuck the loose ebony strand behind his ear.

“Hey, everyone’s got things about themselves they can work on. Including me,” Roman smiled. “And believe me when I say that I will never judge you for being passionate about something you like. So if you ever want someone to ramble about jellyfish or Sweeney Todd to or—I dunno, calculators or something?—I’m all ears.”

Logan’s cheeks went pink and he gave a hesitant yet sincere smile. “That’s...very kind of you, Roman. And coincidentally, I also greatly enjoy Sweeney Todd. The use of iambic pentameter and alliteration to give a succinct synopsis to the story in just the first sentence alone is pure brilliance.”

“Right!? I mean the man’s a mad genius. I’m dying to design sets for one of his musicals someday. Like last year? I came up with the concept of having the Sweeney Todd sets done in a way that highlights the class differences with the characters.” Roman went into a small three minute ramble regarding the specifics before he cut himself off abruptly. Logan was blinking rapidly, a look of mild shock crossing his feature. Roman nearly started sweating; Had he messed this up again?

“That… that’s ingenious”

Roman’s ears were burning. Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!

“Hey, Logan!” They both startled and turned to an impatient cheerleader with a ginger undercut and they/them pronoun pin shaped like a coffin. “What’re you doing just standing out in the hall, ya dork? Oh, hey Roman.”

“Uh. Hey, October,” Roman said, waving awkwardly to them.

“I told ya, Red, you only get to call me that when we’re working on a show.”

“Wait, October? Red? You two know each other?” Logan asked, brow arching.

“Kind of. They sometimes help out with costumes for the drama club,” said Roman. And they have terrible timing. I mean seriously Tobes, we were having a moment.

“Come on Lo, class is about to start, and you promised to go over my homework with me real quick beforehand. See ya ‘round, Ro.” Toby grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled him into the classroom. “You can fill me in on what you were doing with Red later.”

Logan followed his—apparently—friend into their classroom, but he shot Roman an apologetic look over his shoulder. Roman bounced a bit on the balls of his feet before following halfway into the room. Logan was in his seat with Toby showing him an open notebook. A teacher in a tight grey hair bun was writing on the board. Students at their seats were chatting, and some looked up at the short dork in red who burst in. For once Roman ignored them, his mind set on one last attempt at wooing his green skirted genius while he still had the nerve.

“Hey, Logan,” he said. “I’ve also got some great layout designs for an Into the Woods set. If you’re interested, maybe we can meet up after school and I can show them to you? Maybe we talk a bit more over iced lattes or something?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Prince, seventh period starts in five minutes,” said the teacher. “Unless you’ve suddenly transferred to my class, I suggest you stop distracting my favorite student and get going.”

“I’ll be gone in just a second,” he said. “Well?”

Logan smoothed the silky fabric of his pink scarf and said, “That sounds optimal, Roman. I’ll meet with you. By the first floor water fountain perhaps?”

Roman grinned. “I shall be counting the minutes.”

“Mr. Prince,” said the teacher with a warning glare.

Roman blew a kiss at Logan and then ducked out of the doorway. Was he embarrassed of himself? Oh definitely. Did he regret it? Absolutely not. He felt ten inches tall.

Now to complete the quest of making it to class in time. He slid off a shoulder strap to unzip his classic Mickey backpack, getting out the notebook and the relevant homework. He found them amidst the mess of spiral notebooks, granola bar wrappers, two textbooks and rainbow sticky notes. But something was missing from his folder.

“Where are those– it should be here.” He could’ve sworn he had his stapled the blocking notes in his folder. No, wait, the last place he saw them was— “Ah shoot! I left them in the tech closet again.”

Under normal circumstances, Roman would’ve grabbed them after school, but the auditorium was locked on weekends. He’d have to wait till Monday to get them and that just wouldn't do! he wanted to show Logan his notes today! I’ll bet David Korins never has these kinds of problems. Okay, okay. Still got four minutes. He could rush to the auditorium, grab the notes, and then head straight to class. I should have enough time, right? Right. Besides it was only Spanish Class, he was already pretty fluent after all those summers visiting his grandparent in Nicaragua. He spent most of class time dreaming up blocking notes anyway.

Despite not being totally convinced by his own argument, Roman immediately turned on his heel and started running in the opposite direction. After a teacher told him no running in the halls, Roman power walked through the halls with a skip in his step and a song in his heart, feeling absolutely gay in both senses of the word. Logan had actually called his idea ingenious! And the way those sharp eyes softened just for him- he would squeal if not for the fact that it would draw too many eyes to him. The halls were still filled with a few stragglers rushing to the last class of the day, and he was already trying not to get caught being late for class.

Now he knew how Maria felt in West Side Story. Y’know, before Act 2. Oh sure, they’d gotten off to a shaky start, but as the Bard’s adage on the course of true love said; and Roman felt it in his gut that this was certainly the start of true love. Not just with brilliant Logan but also with soulful Patton as well. He didn’t know how an awkward geek like him ever got so lucky in the soulmate department…Then again, there was still the matter of Virgil. So maybe not so lucky.

Roman touched his arm, remembered flustered yet flattering purple words. I know they both said Virgil is secretly sweet and I can sympathize with the terrors of closet town, but COME ON! Virgil? Really? That gloomy gladiator? There had to be a mistake in that. After all, Patton liked to see the good in everyone. Logan was much more of a skeptic, but he does seem to have a blind spot with sarcasm. Maybe Virgil was messing with them somehow. Even if he’s not a jerk jock, the guy’s still kind of a creepazoid; with his dark eyes and cheeta-esq gait and those probably huge muscles hidden under that bulky jacket and big hands...

His gay disaster train of thought came to a merciful halt as he reached the auditorium. Roman pushed open the doors, took a pause to breathe in the quiet comfort of this chapel of the arts. Okay yeah, chapel was maybe a little kind for the school’s auditorium which doubled as the drama Club’s rehearsal space/prop closet backstage/Mx Joan’s unofficial office because the school didn’t fund the arts programs enough. Even so this space was Roman’s sanctuary. The place where he could help create magic from the shadows, bring stories of those gone and living to life. Here, Roman found something of a community with his fellow backstagers, glee club losers, and budding thespians (the nice ones). So he loved every squeaky stage plank, every duck taped seat cushion and every speck of dust that floated in the spot lit air like fairies.

Mx. Joan wasn’t around for once, thankfully. Probably in the teacher’s lounge or rendezvousing with the school nurse or something. They were pretty chill and Roman knew he was their favorite student, but the choir director/drama club moderator/music teacher (this school really needs to fix its funding habits) wouldn’t have been too keen on Roman being deliberately late for class.

Roman walked down the aisle and to the side room by the stage. It was originally a janitor’s closet, but their club moderator transformed it into a ‘Crew Only’ Storage Unit… Okay it was still a closet, but with less bleach and more coils. This was where they kept important equipment for semester shows, like the lighting and sound boards, along with other supplies. Roman made a quick mental note to get more gaffer tape later, seeing their supply was low.

He looked through the small pile of scribbled and highlighted sheets with the lighting cues for the spring show. I’ve really gotta get a binder for these…Ah-Ha! Here you are! Roman pulled out the stapled sheets titled ‘Into the Woods Dream Set’ and carefully shoved them into his bag. Perfect timing too. He might just be able to make it to class after—

RIIIIIIIIIIING

“GAH!”

What the heck? He could’ve sworn he was alone in there, but that yelp just now said otherwise. Up close, Roman saw that the curtains were rustling, accompanied by sounds of heavy breathing and moaning, yet not a footstep to be seen or heard.

Holy SHIT, this place IS haunted! I KNEW that backdrop fiasco last semester wasn’t caused by cheap slit plywood. My supplies are the best quality allowance money can buy. Great Macbeth’s bloody knife, I TOLD Kai we should've sprung for a ghost light! Remus always teased him for being superstitious but look who’s laughing now.

He dashed back into the crew closet and grabbed the heavy push broom leaning in the corner. Roman Prince was NOT about to be caught unawares and possessed by the ghost of a disgruntled student without a fight. He would defend his domain of imagination!

Roman slowly climbed the stage steps, wielding his broom like a bow staff, turned the curtain corner where the noises were coming from and was about to release a war cry on the—

“Virgil?”

Roman nearly dropped his weapon at the sight of Virgil Alighieri—star athlete, object of his fears and supposed soulmate—curled in on himself trembling and crying.

His jacket was pulled over his head like a hood, yet Roman could see the tear stained face peeking out from underneath. Virgil’s eyes were squeezed tight, making the dark circles he’d never noticed before more prominent. There was no denying the athlete had muscle but he was more lithe—thin enough for Roman to wonder if the guy ate enough. Virgil’s trembling could rival a chihuahua, shaky hands clutching his knees, and he was clearly in the midst of a bad panic attack.

Roman had built Virgil up in his mind as being like some odd combination of Hades and Ares. The strong silent wolf within his pack of jocks, a surging thunderstorm just waiting for the right nerd to come along and piss him off enough to strike down like the bolt of Zeus.

Someone to be afraid of.

But now? Seeing him in this state, all alone and whimpering like a wounded animal...it broke Roman’s heart.

He set the broom down gently and carefully crouched down in front of Virgil. “Virgil,” he said softly. “Virgil, can you hear me?”

Virgil let out a breathy sob but otherwise didn’t seem to register him. Just how long had he been sitting here like this?

Roman was at a loss for what to do. Sure he knew plenty of people with anxiety but never saw someone having an actual panic attack before. He did know that if he didn’t help the other calm down soon, Virgil was liable to pass out. He’d never wanted to hug someone so badly in his life. Roman tentatively reached out a hand but stopped. What if touching him makes it worse? What if I startle him so badly he actually has a heart attack!? Maybe I should get the nurse. But I can’t just leave him like this.

He caught sight of the colorful soulmarks written on Virgil’s arm. Saw his own harsh thoughts: ’Dios mio, he’s staring right at me—like he wants to punch my face!’ 

Roman took his shame and forged it into steel. I won’t abandon you...my soulmate.

Virgirl’s let out a hiccuped cry, and this gave Roman an idea. Something from back when he was a child. It was probably stupid and a long stretch, but it was all he could think of. He readjusted himself so that he was now sitting right next to Virgil, making sure not to startle him. Roman cleared his throat, then as softly as he could, he began to sing.

“Come stop your crying, it’ll be alright.

Just take my hand, hold it tight.”

Roman one and carefully gentled his hand over Virgil’s. After a moment, he felt a light squeeze, and that encouraged him to keep going.

“I will protect you from all around you.

I will be here, don’t you cry…”

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[okk--maaan]

Bad Kitchen Dreams

Hi. This is very dumb. But I couldn’t help myself when @ellelaconi​ threw out a Pale Kitchen Nightmares AU. So here you go. Feel free to imagine him in a blonde Matt wig and chef’s coat with a British accent.

WC: ~1.7k (whoops)

CW: you’re a really bad chef, Pale degrading you because you’re such a bad chef, pussy eating, fingering, PIV, brief drug mention, OSHA violations

Pale has traveled all over the country doing this. Helping desperate restaurant owners resurrect their businesses from the ashes. But in his twenty years, he’s never seen a situation as dire as this. As dire as yours.

When he pulls up in his big black car, he can tell the restaurant isn’t open. “Who the fuck ain’t open at one o’clock in the afternoon? Fuckin’ bullshit,” he mutters to himself. And sure enough. When he tries the front door - locked. He bangs on the glass and yells, “Hey! Hello! Anybody in there?!” After like five fuckin’ minutes of this, you finally appear -- wearing a dirty disgusting chef’s coat, your hair haphazardly pinned up, shit on your face. You wipe your hands down your front, smearing something orange across the little bit of white left on your apron.

As soon as you turn the lock, Pale pushes his way through with his big body. Without the barrier of safety glass, he can really get a good look at you. Even with all the mess, you’re pretty fuckin’ hot. Stunning really. Makin’ his cock twitch in his dark jeans, with your soft fuckin’ eyes and lips and shit. But he can’t think about that right now. He’s got work to do. Clearly.

He sticks a fat hand out and greets, “Hey doll. The name’s Jimmy. But call me Pale. Everyone calls me Pale. Hate that fuckin’ name in fact. Jimmy. Only person call me that is my fuckin’ wife.” You’re flustered with how quickly he rambles, but you take his hand and introduce yourself. “Well let me ask you something. Why the hell ain’t you open? It’s the middle of fuckin’ lunch,” he wave his hands all over the place like this is the most atrocious thing. And honestly, in his opinion, it might be. “Uhh well no one’s in here,” you try to explain. He scoffs, “Yeah no shit. Kinda hard for people to get in with the door locked and all.” He did have a point there. You wring your sweaty palms together, trying to fight the utter embarrassment. “Thank you for agreeing to help me, Jimmy - uh Pale. Please tell me what I need to do to fix this.” He leans in real close, jabs a thumb behind him, “Why don’t you unlock the fuckin’ door first?” You chuckle nervously and walk past him. Pale can’t help but glance at your ass as you do, just can’t help himself. And damn. You look just as good from the back as you do from the front. And again, his dick agrees.

With the restaurant officially open, you give Pale a tour. But the condition of the dining room is so deplorable, he doesn’t want to go any further. “Nah doll. I ain’t going in that kitchen. I got half a mind to even let you cook for me,” he throws his hands up in protest. He pulls out the cleanest chair he can find and plops down. Dusting off the tiny table in front of him, he asks, “So what kinda food you serve here?” “I create Mexican Italian fusion dishes,” you respond quickly and proudly. But that pride is short lived, with the way he’s staring at you. “Huh. Fusion. Well I’ll be the judge of that,” he purses his lips as he opens a cloth napkin and sets it in his lap. You take that as your cue to bring out his first course.

“Here we have a baby squid, steamed with lemon and capers,” you say in your best chef’s voice. Steamed? Squid? Pale thinks - knows - what’s sitting in front of him won’t be good. But you’re too fuckin’ pretty for him to flat-out refuse. He wishes he did a bump before coming in this place. By the way he has to stab the fish with his fork, he instantly knows it’s not cooked. “Look, I ain’t eating this. This squid is so raw, I can hear it telling Spongebob to fuck off.” Hot tears prick at your eyes. And he can see it. “No. Come on now. Don’t start that shit. Just - just bring me the next course,” he dismisses you.

You set two overly stuffed enchiladas in front of Pale. They look better than the squid, but his hopes aren’t too high. When he finally musters up the courage to take a bite, he wants to spit it out right away. “These are the worst fuckin’ enchiladas I’ve ever had,” he throws down his fork. You go to remove the plate, but he grabs your wrist and pulls you to his eye level. “Look doll. I know I said I didn’t want to go into that fuckin’ kitchen, but you’re going to take me back there. Right now. Show me with the fuck you got going on.” The way his breath blows over your face and his eyes bore into you, you can’t refuse. “Oh-okay,” you stutter.

As you walk to the kitchen, Pale follows, and you can feel his gaze locked on you. And he is truly mesmerized by the way your hips swing. As soon as he crosses the threshold, he demands any and every other employee leave. “Go clean something. And don’t come back in her til’ I say so. Got it?” All life - including the cockroaches - scatters. Except for you. And him. He stalks over to you liek a wild animal. And you’re his prey. Your ass back up against the metal counter, where he cages you between his strong arms. “How’s this sweetheart. Your restaurant is disgusting, your food is even worse. This place ain’t gonna stay open another month. But you? You’re the best damn thing I’ve seen this side of the Hudson.” He steps in even closer, pressing his hot hot body to yours. “Pale, I-” your eyes drop between your bodies. You can feel the bulge in his pants, insistent on your stomach. Before you can choke out another word, his fingers are digging into your soft hips. In one swift instant motion, he lifts you to sit atop the cold counter and mashing his mouth to yours. Demanding. Hungry. You part your lips for him without protest, let his tongue slide against yours. Your fingers comb and twist into his slicked back hair. He moans and thrusts into you when your nails scratch at his scalp. A sudden burst of confidence implores your hands to move to work at undoing his jeans. But he swats you away, pinches your cheeks between his forefinger and thumb. “Nuh uh doll. You’re not ready for my big cock yet.” When you nod in agreement, he releases your face and finds your own waistband, yanking down your pants and panties at once. With those around your ankles, he spreads you open and admires your glistening cunt. “God. Are you always this wet for every Joe Blow that walks in this joint?” You can feel your face heat up at the comment, but Pale ain’t paying not attention. He’s too busy dropping to his knees and wedging himself between yours. And he wastes no time diving in. You gasp and hiccup at the sudden contact. He licks and sucks at your silky folds, drinking down everything you give him. Occasionally, his proud nose nudges your stiff clit, sending shockwaves down your spine. He grunts and pulls away with a wet pop, “Finally something edible. Finally some good fucking pussy.” Fuck he really wishes he had some coke or a cigarette or a drink, something. He’s already too worked up and he doesn’t want to wait anymore.

So he doesn’t.

Pale stands back to his full, towering height and makes quick work of his belt. He uses one hand to free himself, while he coats two fingers on the other in your slick. “Are you ready to take my big cock sweetheart?” he asks before shoving his thick digits deep into you. You inhale sharply and groan at the intrusion. “Yes Pale. Please.” He shakes his head, his dick now in his hand, where he strokes it slowly. “Nah doll. I want to hear you say it.” It takes every last brain cell not focused on the sensation of his burning hand pumping into you to find the words. “Yes - ah fuck - yes. Please fuck me. I’m ready to take your big cock.” Before you even finish your sentence, he’s lining up and thrusting into you. Hard. Deep. Your head falls back and knocks the steel service pass at the same time his cock head knocks your cervix. “Fuck. Fuck me. I like the way you beg sweetheart.” As he sets his brutal pace, the only sounds you can return are moans and whimpers and gasps. Your sounds of pleasure mix with his grunts and groans and curses and the delicious sound of bare skin smacking on bare skin. The symphony you create together bounces off pots pans plaster walls. “Fuckin’. This tight little pussy is gonna make me bust. Mmnh - fuck. Play with yourself doll. Make yourself cum. Make yourself fuckin’ cum on my cock.” You think you nod your head, but you’re not really sure. Either way, you brace your weight on one hand and use the other to draw perfect tight circles into your needy clit. The extra stimulation, added to Pales’ filthy words and steady driving driving into you, pushes you right over the edge. “Unnhh Pale. I- I’m gonna cu- I’m gonna-” “Yeah. That’s right. Cum on my cock. Cum on my cock in your dirty kitchen. Add to the mess. I’m gonna fuckin’ add to the mess. I’m gonna cum all over you. Fuck it’s disgusting in here,” he babbles and rants. You don’t even care that he’s continuing to insult your restaurant, even when he’s balls deep in you. You don’t even care because you can feel your cunt tightening around him and that ball of fire tightening around your insides. He fucks into one, two, three times more and everything explodes. You lurch forward, eyes pinched tight, cum with a shout. He follows right behind, pulling out of your still convulsing cunt, fucking his fist fast. Shooting sticky thick streams of cum onto one of your thighs, your exposed belly, and the counter. As he groans through the end of his climax, he smacks your undefiled thigh and grunts, “Shut it down doll.”

And you do.

You never enter another kitchen. Never cook another meal.

And never hear from Jimmy - Pale - again.

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

Tagging a couple other pals who expressed interest for some reason lol @direnightshade​ @poetic-solo​ @blackredrose27​ @find-me-with-orion​

[cal-puddies]

repercussions of the ramifications - pt onze || luke hemmings

“Babe.” Luke says loudly, hands slamming against the doorframe. He watches you jump and chuckles.

“The fuck Luke?!” You respond, holding your hand over your heart and turning to face him.

He comes in and falls on the bed, and your stacks of clothes. “What are you doing?” He asks, voice softening. He rolls on his side and kicks your once again empty suitcase on the floor. “We leave in the morning, why is this empty again?” He grabs your hands and pulls you down on the bed with him. “I wanted to spend the night cuddling with you, not watching you repack.” He nuzzles your cheek.

“I’m just nervous Luke. This is big.” You sigh, pushing your fingers into his hair. “I haven’t met a guys parents since high school.” You pause as Luke shifts himself, resting his head on your shoulder, nuzzling his nose into your cheek. “Everything with you has just been a big bunch of firsts, I don’t want to make a bad impression. First rockstar, first tour, first time I’ve made a big deal about introducing my friends and living with my boyfriend and meeting the family in a serious way…”

“Baby… I know you’re nervous. You shouldn’t be. You’ve met my mom and Jack, the boys love you. My brother and dad are going to love you too. I’m seriously not worried at all. Can we just put everything back in your bag and hang out?” He presses little kisses to your neck.

“Luke.” You giggle. He rubs his scruff on your neck. “Babe.” You rub your fingers at the base of his neck, slipping them under his T-shirt. “This doesn’t lead to anything productive.” You giggle.

Luke’s lips continue to press more urgent kisses to your neck, some involving a little more roughness so he could mark you. His fingertips push under the hem of your shirt and he then smirks against your skin, “I mean… it could be considered reproductive.”

You roll your eyes at him. “We’re not doing this on my clean clothes that I’m taking to meet your family.”

“Fine.” Luke instantly gets up, picks up your suitcase and starts to expertly pack it for you. “You have to get up too, I can’t get all your stuff from under you.”

You laugh at how eager he is but you get up. “You want a drink or anything?” You ask, heading for the door.

He reaches toward you and you let his large hand engulf yours. He pulls you too him and grins as he kisses you. “Whiskey and you.” He presses another kiss to your lips and let’s you go.

“Should we think about ordering food for dinner or something?” You call back to him while making the drinks.

“Uhh… not yet. We can do that after I’m done with you.”

So that’s how you and Luke spent your night.

You caught the flight to Sydney mid morning with the rest of the guys and 26 hours later, you were collapsing on the bed in Luke’s Sydney apartment.

Luke follows you in the room and drops both of your suitcases. He claps, “up, up baby, we can’t go to sleep yet.”

“Luuuuuke.” You groan into the pillow. “I’m so tired.”

“We gotta shower and then head to my parents.” He gently pats your butt. “Come on babe, you knew we were gonna be busy. I’m tired too.” He says, collapsing on the bed. He lets you both lay for a few minutes before sitting up and pulling his shirt off. “I’ll make it worth your while.” He says seductively.

An hour and a half later you are sat with Luke’s parents and brothers.

It was friendly conversation, they asked Luke about tour and the new album and how LA was. Jack and Celeste talked to you off the side of the conversation, kinda just catching up with you since they’d seen you six months ago.

Then Ben focuses on you. “So what do you do?” He asks.

“I work at a dental office.” You say, smiling at him. Luke grabs your hand in your lap.

“So your a dentist or a hygienist?” He prods further.

“Um… no, i'm a receptionist. I just knew I wanted to be in LA when I got out of high school, so I took a gap year… or two.” You shrug.

“But she’s in school now and I’m so, so proud of her. She’s working her butt off.” Luke beams.

“So you’re working and in school? You guys live together?” Ben clarifies.

“Yeah, I had to cut back on my hours a bit and Luke and I have been living together for like… I dunno about year, I think.” You look at Luke and he confirms.

“Yeah, about as long as the album process I’d say.” He agrees, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

“So… you moved into Luke’s house and…” Ben pushed.

“Well… I’d already decided to go back when Luke asked me to move in, he knew that was already my plan, and that I’d planned to take less hours at work.”

“Hey Ben… back off, man.” Luke says. It’s the first time you can tell he’s frustrated with the line of questioning. But as you look over at him, you can see it all over his face. And as you thought about it, maybe the line of questioning wasn’t as innocent as you’d taken it.

“I’m just trying to make sure she’s good enough for my baby brother, and I just wanna know her intentions.” Ben explains, “after all the trouble with Arz.”

Luke’s foot is tapping in a way you’ve only ever seen it when he’s beyond frustrated or annoyed. He licks his lips in a tense way and everyone had stopped everything to see what Luke was going to do. He looks over to you, “babe you tired? I’m tired. Maybe we should go home for awhile… before dinner.”

“Um… yeah babe… that’s fine.” You agree, peaking a look at his family. Jack and Liz are both glaring at Ben.

“Cool… sorry Mom excuse us. Long flight ya know. Just need some down time.” Luke explains, standing.

“Liz, thank you. Jack and Celeste it’s good to see you. Ben, Mr. Hemmings, nice to meet you.” You nod around the room and wave.

“We’ll see ya for dinner.” Luke barely stops himself from spitting. He holds tight to your hand as he pulls you out of his parents house.

You sit in silence for a few minutes on the ride home. “I can’t fucking believe he did that. I can’t believe he brought her up. He had no right to question you like that.” He seethed. “Are you ok?” He asks, looking over at you.

“M’ok.” You nod, “it’s ok Luke. I don’t think he meant anything by it.”

“Oh… he did… I definitely wouldn’t be mad if you don’t want to go back for dinner. We can call Cal and see what he’s up to, you can spend some time with him maybe… or you can stay at my place and sleep.”

“Luke, I can go back with you.” You mention quietly.

“No way babe, you don’t deserve that... I need to speak with Ben.”

“I just don’t want it to be worse, like how does it look if I don’t go back?”

“I’ll explain babe. You don’t worry about a thing.” Luke completely softens when he looks over at you and can tell you are upset. “Hey, you were great. You handled it very well and I love you so so much. I know this isn’t the outcome I expected or promised, but thank you so much for coming with me.” He rests his hand on your thigh and does that annoying thing he does where he takes his eyes off the road and stares at you until you look at him.

“Love you too Luke.” You say quietly, giving him the eye contact he desires. You rest your hand on top of his and he gently brings it to his lips to press a kiss to the back of your hand.

When you get back to Luke’s you both make your way into the bedroom, he’s the first to start changing, pulling his button down off and then his jeans, only to replace them with sweatpants. You kick off your shoes and make yourself comfortable against the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. You check your phone to find texts from your little sister.

-how was meeting his family? Was it amazing? She asked.

-didn’t go quite as planned. :( but I’ll tell ya all about it when I get home.

-ugh fine. Be safe! Miss you!

-miss you too! Love you! You respond.

You put your phone down and look up at Luke, who’s standing at the foot of the bed looking at you. “Can I…?” He asks, gesturing toward you in a way to make it so you knew what he wanted. You spread your legs, and Luke crawls on the bed and lays himself between them, resting his head on your stomach and wrapping his arms around you. “M’so sorry about today.” He says quietly. You gently push your fingers into the mess of curls on his head and rub his scalp.

“S’ok Luke. I kinda expected this to happen.” You whisper. Your fingers leave his hair and lightly trail down his neck and to his shoulders. You bring your other hand up to rub his back with both hands.

“Feels s’nice Baby.” Luke sighs.

“Mmm” you hum. “What time do you have to go back?” You ask.

“Dinners at 6 so I’ll probably leave here around 5.” He starts to roll his fingers in your shirt. “Can we cuddle for awhile babe?”

“Of course baby boy.” You agree.

Luke rolls off of you and onto his back, “c’mere babe. You’ve been holding me a lot lately, let me hold you a while.” You happily cuddle up to him, he presses his lips to your head. “You’re so sweet to me.” He whispers.

“Hmmm.” You hum.

Before you know Luke is gently shaking you awake. “C’mon babe, I don’t wanna get up either.” He chuckles. You turn your face up to him and he presses a quick kiss to your lips. You blink a few times. “Here, call Cal.” He says handing you his phone. “His aus number.”

You sit up and rub your eyes and Luke gets up and gathers his clothes he’d stripped off an hour ago. “I figured.” You yawn. You scroll through Lukes phone and find the number. You put it on speaker.

“Yeah Luke?” He answers.

“Hey Cal, it’s me actually.” You respond.

“But you’re on speaker.” Luke adds.

“Hey guys, what’s up? How was meeting the family?”

“Did not to as expected.” Luke says, sitting on the bed beside you. You rest your head on his shoulder. “Just wondering what you were up to this evening?”

“And we’re hoping I can tag along?” You interject.

“I’m just having dinner with my parents but they’d love to meet the girl in my life.” He laughs.

“Would they mind?” Luke asks.

“Not at all, moms making spaghetti and I’ve been with them all day, I’m sure they are tired of listening to me. Should I pick you from Luke’s parents?”

“We’re at Luke’s actually.”

“Ok, I’ll pick ya there in 20.”

“Ok.. see ya soon.” You hang up the phone.

You lift your head off Luke’s shoulder and he gently holds your face. He presses his lips to yours very gently. “I feel so bad right now. I feel a little like I’m abandoning you.” He whispers against your lips. He starts to kiss you again, this time making it a little deeper and a bit more passionate.

“I’m gonna be with Cal. It’s not like you are leaving me here alone, though it was a tempting offer.” You grin. “I’ll be fine handsome.” You grip his shirt.

“Ugh… I know. I just… I really wish things had gone the way I wanted earlier.”

“Can’t dwell on it babe. Go have a good time with your family. Have your words with Ben and I’ll see ya later.” You shrug.

Luke grabs you around the waist and pulls you into his lap. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek. “I’m gonna love on you so good tonight.” He whispers.

You turn your face to his and smile against his lips, “Well i expect it now.” you press your lips to his.

Luke tightens his grip on you and lets his head rest against your chest. “I really just wanna stay with you.” he pouts.

“You really just can’t.” you pout back.

“Ok… gimme a kiss and i’ll go, Cal should be here in about 10. He has a spare so I’ll message him and make sure he comes up to lock it behind you.” Luke stands, holding you tight against him and presses kisses to your lips. “I love you.” he says between the last two.

“I love you.” you laugh, and he finally sets you down. “I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

Cal picks you up and his parents are sweet as can be to you. They tell you about how Cal was when he was little and listened to you talk about work and school and some of the shenanigans you’d managed to get into with Cal since you’d met. And they talked about Mali and how great she was, and Cal said he couldn’t wait for you to meet her.

He takes you back to Luke’s without asking for details on how things went at lunch.

You wander around Luke’s place, and get comfortable, putting on the pjs you’d brough with you. You make yourself comfortable on the couch with a book.

Luke comes in about an hour after you get home, and you can immediately tell he’s mad.

“Hey babe.” You greet him from the couch.

“Oh hey, you’re home.” He stands at the opposite end of the couch, almost awkwardly.

“Yeah, Cal brought me back like right after dinner. We both thought I should be here when you got home.” You explain, playing with the earring in your ear.

“Yeah.” He says. He turns and heads to the bedroom and comes back in his sweats a few minutes later. He sits in the other end of the couch and sighs, he pulls out his phone and looks at it.

You close your book and chew on your lip. You definitely know something is wrong now, it takes a lot for Luke to go from totally affectionate to barely looking at you, and he definitely doesn’t do it often. “What’s wrong?” You ask, quietly.

“Just have some stuff to think about.” He sighs, he spares you a quick glance.

“Oh-kaaaay… do you wanna talk?” You shift so you’re sitting upright, so he knows he has your undivided attention.

Luke lets out a loud breath and looks at you. He puts his phone down. “You said something to Ben earlier, you said I knew that you planned to go back to school and take less hours at work when I asked you to move in… I’m not sure that’s exactly how it happened…”

“Uhh… I am, we talked about me going back to school when we celebrated our nine month, and then you asked me to move in like 3 months later, after I’d already enrolled in classes.” You state.

“Well.. babe, I just feel like that’s not how it happened, honestly.” He’s defensive.

“Ok Luke… I’ve never asked you for anything, and I definitely didn’t ask you to move in… so I’m really not sure where this is coming from other than Ben said something to you. I mean you left here mad at him and you’ve come back mad at me. What the hell?”

“Yeah, I talked to Ben and he made some really good points…” he turns his head away from you briefly.

“Points about who… your ex? Ben doesn’t know me, Ben didn’t take 10 minutes to get to know me. He made a decision about me before I walked through the door and he asked questions to point out what he thought was wrong with me.”

“Some of the shit he brought up, made sense.”

“Yeah… ok… I’m not doing this. I’m going to bed.” You get up and head for the bedroom. “And for the record Luke, this is exactly what I told you would happen.” You say, walking away from him. You slam the door behind you.

You barely sleep and Luke never tries to come in, you do hear him outside of the door a couple of times in the night though. When you finally decide you can’t sleep in the early hours of the morning, you pull out your laptop and start to look for the earliest flight back to LA you can find. You figure you’ll take your chance getting your ticket changed at the airport and you go ahead and start packing.

Luke knocks on the door and let’s himself in. “Hey babe… what are you doing?” He asks.

“I’m packing to go back to LA.” You say matter of factly.

“Why?” He asks. Looking tired and now lost.

“Because I clearly need to look for a new place to live.” You sigh and stop packing to look at him.

“Look… no you don’t. I came in here to apologize. You were absolutely right and I shouldn’t have let Ben get in my head.”

“Luke, I’ve never asked you for anything, ya know. I provide for myself. I’d pay rent if you asked me too, I already pay all the bills because I use the internet and electricity and water, it just makes sense. I don’t rely on you for anything material. I just don’t fucking understand how you got to that point with Ben last night, and honestly if he can make you feel that way about me then this is probably more broken than I thought.”

“You don’t pay rent because I don’t need you to pay rent and I don’t want you to worry about it while your in school…”

“Did it cross your mind that that was all you needed to say to Ben?” You ask.

“Well… no. But babe, I know you take care of the rest of bills, and you are right you don’t ask for a thing, you ask me to stop paying for things and you don’t give a fuck about what my name means, I know that.” He pleads.

“Well you didn’t fucking know that last night.” You reply weakly, tears starting to form in your eyes. It was frustrating and this was easily the worst fight in two years. You’d never gone to bed mad at him before.

“I did know it, I was being dumb. And frankly I don’t know what it means if you leave…”

“It doesn’t mean anything good, Luke. If I leave, I’m done, I’m walking away. If you can’t trust me, if you don’t think I’m here for you after allll this shit.. then what’s the point?”

“No babe, please don’t leave. I’m so sorry. Please just don’t fucking leave. I love you so fucking much. I was an idiot last night… You mean fucking everything to me.” Luke approaches you, he gently grabs your hand, “please babe. Say you’ll stay.”

“I don’t know right now Luke… I really fucking don’t.” You say through tears and sniffles.

It was safe to say that’s Luke’s heart broke, right then. He knew after all the late nights, the distance and the barely getting to see each other, that what he’d said last night had more of an effect on you than anything else you’d been through.

He showed up to the bands promo stuff late, looking like hell, and obviously distracted. He didn’t know if you were going to choose to leave while he was gone all day, but you’d definitely decided not to go with him.

He let Ash take point in all the interviews since he was ‘on’ and so good at it. All Luke could think about was you and where you were and how you were and what was happening between the two of you.

When Luke gets home he is exhausted and he seems beyond drained. And he’s really surprised that you are sat on his couch, in his T-shirt with a bottle of wine.

He immediately steps toward you, “can’t believe you’re still here. Thought for sure you’d leave.” He says quietly.

You get up off the couch and make your way toward him with your arms open. Luke instantly opens his arms and engulfs you, picking you up so you’ll wrap your legs around him. “I’m still mad about last night.” You say quietly.

“That’s ok… you stayed, that means we can work it out.” He replies just as quietly. He presses his lips to your cheek. “Thank you for staying.” He whispers, putting you down.

“It’s not… we still have to figure this out Luke… if even part of you resents me… or me, you, then this isn’t gonna work. I don’t want to continue to put all this time and effort and getting my life disrupted for something that’s not going to work out anyway.”

“I honestly don’t feel that way, at all. I know I let Ben get in my head… but you are easily one of the best things in my life.”

“I’m just bummed too Luke. It sucks to feel that way… it sucks to be made to feel this way.” You explain. “And I’m just fuckin sad that someone could make you think that way about me. You were upset and mean last night…��

“And you didn’t and don’t deserve that, babe you’ve been so consistent and independent and dependable and loving and you’re so smart. I’m so sorry. I know you don’t need me. I make your life harder. But I love you, and I love you even more for loving me and putting up with me.” He grabs your hand. “Do y’wanna go to bed with me? It’s been an awful long day.”

“I actually do wanna go to bed with you babe. I love you, ya know… just like you said 2 years ago, we can’t have any doubts about each other… that still applies.”

“You’re right, I know. And it’s always going to.” He agrees.

“Do I have to see Ben again?” You ask, finally letting Luke lead you back to the bedroom.

“He’s gonna be at the show tomorrow… but I’m gonna talk to him and let him know he needs to apologize to you as well.” He promises. You sigh and climb into the bed, Luke undresses, “I gotta take a shower babe.”

“Mmmm’k well I’m probably gonna be asleep before you get done.” You yawn, reaching your arms above your head to stretch. “I didn’t get like any sleep last night and it was a long ass day.”

“Hmm…” he thinks for a minute. “Lemme just go wash my face and I’ll just shower in the morning. Need to cuddle you.” He leans over the bed and rubs his nose against yours. “Love you.”

When Luke comes back, you’re half asleep, but he has no qualms in climbing in next to you and waking you up. Your turn to face him and lean up to kiss him. “Love you Luke.”

You’re standing backstage, Luke’s off warming up with the guys, you’re talking with Jack and Celeste when Ben approaches.

“Can I speak to you a moment?” He asks.

You look at him and back to Jack and Celeste and shrug, “Uhh, sure.”

You step away with him and he looks you over “I just wanted to apologize for the way I treated you at lunch the other day. Luke was really upset with me about it.”

“Yeah? He should have been. I almost left him because of it, because it was rude and you didn’t take even ten minutes to try and get to know me. You just lumped me in with the girls that came before me and it honestly wasn’t fair at all. So I appreciate you taking the time to make an insincere apology just to be on your brother’s good side. Thank you for almost breaking up our relationship.” You turn on your heel and walk start to walk away from him.

You assume he turns to Jack because you hear Jack respond with a “she’s not wrong, and she doesn’t have to forgive you.”  

When you find Luke, he’s talking to a couple of the guys and some of the stage crew. He briefly glances at you and then realizes it’s you and holds his hand out for you to grab. You walk closer. “Hey.” He whispers in your ear, pressing his lips to the side of your head. “What’re you doin?” He asks.

“Just wanderin… it’s kind of awkward in the green room with Ben, so I just needed to get away.” You shrug.

“Yeah I just talked to him. He said you were kind of rude…?” He asks, but as your looking at him, you know he’s not mad.

“I told him that I appreciated the time it took for him to make a half hearted apology but I wasn’t accepting it because he only did it to please you.” You shrug again. “Are you mad?” You ask.

“No. Not at all. It’s your right to decide when and if you forgive him.” He rests his hand on your face, “m’honestly just glad you forgave me.”

“I didn’t invest 2 years into you to not work it out Luke.” You smirk.

“Well thanks for humoring me, either way.” He grins.

“Well it was either humor you, or figure out what I was gonna do with my life for no reason other than I’m stubborn… so I let my heart win for once.”

“And I’m not gonna let you regret that.” Luke presses his forehead against yours and the rest of the world just falls away.

“I love you Hemmings. You surprise me every single day and it’s not always good… but it’s always for the best.” You whisper. Luke acknowledges that he heard through all the backstage chaos by grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze, and then he presses his lips to yours.

pt 10  ||  pt 12

[ontheperiphery]

a penny for your thoughts, tipsy or not

kim namjoon x reader, college!au introspection?? word count: 2.2k

The party was lit. And you were not.

It’s safe, you think, to admit that events largely aimed at socializing weren’t your thing. Not that you were unwilling to attend, but showing up and enjoying yourself were two different issues entirely.

You probably should’ve taken the hint when attending a boba after-social in which you sat with your peach flavored black iced tea and listened to people at your table animatedly conversing while nodding and humming occasionally to indicate your involvement. It was a small group of people and you made an effort to say something every few minutes, but you were a polite listener and never really interrupted when you could’ve. And so conversation flowed smoothly without you.

You probably should’ve taken the hint when you arrived at a dance kick-off performance and let your friend drag you out of your seats to socialize with people since you were so early that there was plenty of time before the event properly began. You smiled at friendly faces and engaged in the shortest of conversations until you ran out of people you knew and things to talk about. And in your periphery was your friend who hopped here and there talking with event staff and friends and you don’t know. More people than you knew, that’s for sure.

You really should’ve taken the hint when you didn’t know what to do other than find an unoccupied couch when you tagged along to house party full of friends of friends of the only friend you knew in the entire building. You tried to pet the dog that night, and while she was extremely friendly and full of energy, she also wasn’t so attention hungry that she stayed in one place for long and you decided you didn’t want to drink with only one familiar face to reach out to, wherever they were in the goddamn house.

So.

Current you sat in the very corner of the living room, obstructed by the couch and huddled with your phone and newest mobile game obsession to tap away your nonchalant boredom with mild success. And though you wanted nothing more than to retire for the night and leave the groups of people playing board games or drinking games or socializing because everyone knew multiple someones, you could not. Not truly.

It was rarely the case but tonight’s party was actually at your apartment living room, a casual one hosted by your roommate. A kick-back may be more accurate to describe it. The people present weren’t….not-nice, not unfriendly, not bad people. Like. People you could hit up and befriend in your lectures if you so happened to share classes. But even in your own home, too much was unfamiliar and the air buzzed with so much conversation and laughter and noise it didn’t feel like your place to be.

Although you did have the option of retreating to your room, the walls were essentially paper-thin and you’d be taunted by half-clear conversations and loud bursts of laughter and yelling regardless so why not stay and listen in properly. Maybe you’d even have a laugh of your own if conversation was entertaining enough. It wasn’t eavesdropping when everyone was gathered in the same room and laughing over each other like noise complaints weren’t a threat.

You were fine where you were at least. Not being visible from most angles of the room helped.

A faint shadow passed over you in the dim lighting and you looked up from your phone, confused that anyone had come over to your little corner when all the drinks and snacks and games were in the center of the room.

“Oh! I didn’t even see you there, uhh hey,” a boy greets you.

Tilting your head back in an attempt to make eye contact, you look up from your phone to return his greeting, “it’s okay. I’m kind of hiding anyway.” You’d try to hold conversation longer but, boy, was he tall and you weren’t too keen on straining your neck even as a courtesy.

He looks around your small corner for a bit and bites his lip as if contemplating something, so you tentatively give him a small smile and a reassuring glance in case he felt like he’d somehow offended you in the ten seconds he’d been standing there. The thought makes you chuckle inwardly because in this moment, at this party, you didn’t really care all that much about anything enough to get offended. “Are you looking for something?” you finally decide to ask.

“Yeah, actually,” he smiles sheepishly, “are there any spare chargers here?”

“Mhmm.” A pretty reasonable question, you muse, since you happen to sit next to a power strip and open outlets. Your phone is at a decent enough level you could last the rest of the party on power saving mode. Probably. So you unplug it to offer your own charger. “I got you.”

He grins back, “thanks. I'm Namjoon, can I join you here?” He gestures at your little space and you nod to acquiesce, introducing yourself briefly.

“Y/n. Nice to meet you.”

Since you don’t offer much in the way of conversation, Namjoon slides down the wall to sit beside you, occasionally checking his phone. Probably messaging someone or waiting for something, you think, if he isn’t leaving his charging phone to rejoin the party.

He hums a bit before initiating conversation, “so what brings you here?”

You figure that he'll sit by his charging phone for a while so, crosslegged and turning to face him, you shrug, “I live here.”

Rather than hear any possible judgement in Namjoon's response over, you don't know, your reluctance to participate in socializing or hiding in your room like most people, you explain yourself all at once. “I'm in the master bedroom and if I stayed in my room it’s kind of uncomfortable to have people walk in and out to use the bathroom and I don't want to be the ass who closes the door to one of the only two bathrooms here. And hardly anyone even sees me here in the corner so it's whatever. It's my roommate's party and I'll just chill until it's over.”

Namjoon just sort of nods with a thoughtful look on his face although you aren't sure how much of your rambling he really paid attention to, you guess you appreciate that he looks like he's listening. Company and all that jazz.

You think about unlocking your phone to avoid your surroundings again but then Namjoon replies, “sounds unfortunate,” bringing a scoff from you.

“You don't say.”

Namjoon looks at you with an amused expression like he knows there's more to it and you press your mouth in a frown. “And it’s been a rough couple of days.” You bring your knees up and curl your arms around them.

You wonder then, if Namjoon's expression is actually more sympathetic than amused but it's late and you're tired, in no mood to properly decipher social cues. It matters little to you in the moment, even if Namjoon is a soft enough presence to have you talking as if you were old friends.

“At least it's the weekend then,” Namjoon offers, “I'm going to grab a drink. D’you want one?”

Shaking your head no, “thanks but no. Unless there's an unopened Calpico?”

Namjoon catches the hopeful lilt at the end of your question and easily smiles at your request, returning with a peach flavored bottle and a cup of the same, mixed with a bit of soju. This time, slumping down next to you, shoulders almost touching if either of you chose to lean a bit closer.

You uncurl yourself a bit and happily uncap your bottle, shaking your head at Namjoon as he tilts his cup towards you to offer a sip. “It's okay,” you say with thanks, “but I'm not big on drinking my sorrows away.”

“Hm,” Namjoon replies curiously, turning his head towards you “why not?”

Even as you keep your eyes looking straight ahead, you feel Namjoon's intent gaze on you. Smothering the impulse to fidget, you bring your legs back up to hug them. “Well,” you begin, figuring out how to put words to thoughts, “why do you drink?”

Namjoon thinks for a moment. “Hm. Most of the time it's just a social thing. It's enjoyable with the right people and mixed drink are fun.” He holds up his glass once more which you tap with your bottle to toast with a small smile. “I guess I don't quite believe in drinking feelings away either.”

You're nodding along to Namjoon’s words, pausing at his last statement, because for once, you think, for once, maybe someone finally gets it. But you're not yet sure, so you softly add, “yeah. There's value in feeling you know? All the happy and sad,” while fiddling with the bottle cap of your drink.

You want to add on personal thoughts, that you're never upset at the times you are sad or crying, that you don't ever resent the circumstances that cause such emotions in you and that you don't mind the time you need alone or with friends to get over yourself. That yeah, you often get overwhelmed and sometimes you just feel too damn much but sadness isn't necessarily negative. It just is.

Sitting in your little corner thoughtfully, amongst the loud buzz of laughter and conversation of everyone else in your little apartment you've come to ignore, Namjoon murmurs his agreement and nudges his shoulder to yours, “you sound like you have more to say.”

You're overcome with a mix of quiet appreciation, nervousness, and surprise at his offer, at his interest in what you had to say. Wondering if a person could be drunk on exhaustion because you think a tear or two may be threatening to fall from your eyes.

But you collect yourself just enough to express your thoughts to an attentive Namjoon. Not so much about your troubles because you don’t think they’re any more or less special than the similar academic or life stresses everyone else faces, but moreso about your resulting feelings and how you deal with them. How empty you feel after days of mundane lectures and routine and not feeling enough. How, if you feel too much too intensely, you prefer to spend time alone to process your feelings and thoughts. How confused you get when all your close friends are too busy to have heart-to-heart conversations with.

You’re a little lost, and feel a mournful sense of quiet over it.

As you lay your head awkwardly on your arms you sigh, “sorry for my rambling. I stew in my own thoughts too much.” You turn your head slightly to eye Namjoon. “You probably didn’t come here to talk about existentialism and introspection.”

“No but you’re good,” Namjoon chuckles. “It’s actually kind of refreshing to find someone who’d rather talk about their feelings than play drinking games.”

“Pffft.” You give him a light shove at the small teasing.

“Besides, don’t you enjoy life more when you think more deeply about your experiences? It’s like-”

Namjoon’s phone then lights up with messages and he apologizes for breaking off conversation and being called away by his only ride home for the night, but you only wave off his apologies. You’re grateful that he sat by and listened to you for so long to fault him for anything.

Waving goodbye and mustering up the sincerest thanks you can before he leaves, you only wish that he’d stay a little longer if only to hear the rest of his thoughts like he did yours.

-

A week later you’re sitting at a coffee shop near campus to study between classes and out of the corner of your eye you see someone familiar pass by. Your eyes widen in surprise and before you even register your actions or have the chance to overthink whether you should or not, you’re waving over Namjoon and inviting him to join you.

Luckily, you learn Namjoon just walked out of class and doesn’t seem to find your invitation out of place, even if you’re not sure if it was too much to call yourselves friends. The thoughts make you think back on your first meeting a week prior and wonder what prompted him to talk with quiet little you when there was so much more to do at the party. You then turn quietly flustered, realizing your traitorous mouth asked that aloud.

He mutters something about an analogy, how beautiful stars shine at night when there’s no lights from nearby cities reaching the sky and a little more you just can’t quite catch. But then he’s putting his hands to his face in embarrassment with more jumbled mumbling as you shyly smile back.

“You just looked like you wanted someone to talk to,” Namjoon settles on with dimpled smile, “and I think I kind of did too.”