#also forgot to mention but the last doodle was made on a school desk

[joosecat]

i just realized that i could post these here. guh

[tsukikento]

Empathetic Ch. 7

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you're in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family's past.

This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn.

A/N: This is also posted on ao3 under @allie_win. I’m transferring it over here, pls let me know if you like it! I love your comments! Just a note that any italics means thoughts.

(series masterlist)

~~

The next day everything started off fairly smoothly which was a great change to the chaotic afternoon yesterday. You started the day off waking up at sunrise and going on your typical run before going to shower and getting ready for the day. It was relieving that you were able to spend this time with yourself, only crossing paths with a few of your classmates.

That day, you happened to walk with Iida to class because you left early and he caught up to you due to his speed.

The polite boy stopped to walk with you and complimented you on your performance yesterday, making a comment about how he wished to see you in action and possibly even battle against you. At that, you sheepishly laughed and told him you specifically stayed away from him because of his advantage over you.

When you arrived at the classroom, Iida excused himself and began working on some classwork while you found yourself doodling on a sticky note. The drawing was similar to the one you were sketching last night, except instead of Nyikang in the gorgeous costume, it was you.

Ever since last night, you’ve been thinking about your actual hero costume in comparison to Nyikang’s. Throughout this process, you continuously tried to justify changing your hero costume. Additionally, it made you debate the healthiness of being afraid to change your costume and disappoint your family.

Once again, you bit your lip, your habit getting worse over these last few days, and continued to work on the sketch. It was nowhere near perfect, but that just encouraged you to keep working.

When class started, you crumpled up the sticky note you had been drawing on and started focusing on the discussion about yesterday’s game.

As the average day continued to drag on, a few other teachers came into the classroom to teach their respective subjects.

All of them mentioned yesterday.

All of them congratulated your team.

All of them made eye contact with you as if silently calling you out.

Now, Aizawa was standing in front of the class, telling you all to go to lunch.

By this time, you were quite hungry, and so, you walked up to Ashido’s desk as a few people got up and began exiting. “Hurry up! Let’s get Hagakure and go, I’m so hungry!” You complained, rubbing your stomach to emphasize your want or delicious food.

“Actually,” Mina smiled widely and sneakily pointed to Hagakure walking with Ojirou out of the classroom. “They made a lunch date yesterday during the game.” She whispered to you, so no one else could hear.

“So it’s just us?” You asked as Ashido grabbed her phone out of her bag and stood up.

“Actually,” Ashido started, once again grinning. Before she could finish her statement, Kirishima came up from behind and wrapped his arm around the pink girl’s shoulders.

“She’s eating with us,” Kirishima finished, gesturing with his thumb to Kaminari, Sero, and Bakugou. “You are welcome to join though.”

In all honesty, although you were tired from the previous day, you would love to sit with them. They were all so kind and humorous and made you feel so accepted. It would be the best way to relax.

Well, that would be true if Bakugou wasn’t included in that group.

Not that Bakugou was annoying you or making you miserable. He was just unpredictable and made your heart pound in your chest. You wanted a day with no stress, and Bakugou was a source of stress for you without him even knowing it.

“Sure,” You replied, knowing it would be rude to say no.

It’s only 45 minutes. What could go wrong?

~~

Not even 10 minutes later, you were a blushing mess.

After sitting down with your plate of scrumptious food, Kaminari and Sero began bombarding you question after question.

“Is it true that American quirks are weaker than Japanese ones?” Kaminari asked, before you had a chance to start eating.

“No, that’s a dumb rumor.” You rolled your eyes and looked at your blond friend, “Duh.” You grabbed a french fry and popped it into your mouth in an attempt to soothe your grumbling stomach.

Before you even swallowed that bit of food, Sero inquired, “Do you think your mom could beat Endeavor in a fight?”

You took a moment to think over the question before replying, “Yes, his quirk is at a disadvantage against her’s.” You grabbed another french fry and eyed the tempting sandwich that was next to your fries.

“Why do Americans eat so much?” Kaminari asked.

You looked up to look Kaminari in the eyes. Was that a personal comment? His eyes seemed innocent and unaware. Nah, there’s no way. “Capitalism? I don’t know,” You replied before taking a swig of your water. At this point, you were already over these questions and your empty stomach was not helping to calm your annoyance.

“What’s ka-pi-tah-whatever?” Kirishima added.

You hadn’t realized you said ‘capitalism’ in English. Your face went red in embarrassment and you completely forgot about your stomach, “I don't know the word in Japanese, sorry!”

Everyone chuckled in response, making your face turn just a bit pinker.

However, that wasn’t even your ‘blushing mess’ moment.

“Speaking of America,” Ashido began after the laughter died down, “you said you saw us in the sports festival. Is Japanese heroism popular there?”

“Um, a little bit,” You replied, biting your lip in thought. “Some people are really into it, and others just watch it to see the cool tricks. The U.A. sports festival happens at basically the opposite time of year in comparison to American hero competitions. So, a lot of people like to watch because they miss the hero competition.”

“If you watch us, then are there favorites? Like, I saw an article in the magazine that was about up-and-coming student heroes and was basically a rank for some really popular students,” Kaminari said.

You had just taken a bite of your sandwich and were trying to swallow quickly, but before you could reply, Sero shoved his friend teasingly.

“That’s a Japanese magazine, idiot! Why would Americans rank Japanese students?”

“I was just asking!” Kaminari defended.

“Well, it was a dumb question!” Sero replied.

“You’re a dumb question!”

“Shut up, dumba--”

“We do rank some hero students,” You interrupted Sero before anything more idiotic cold happen.

“Really?” Sero and Kaminari both replied, the brunette looking surprised and the blond looking excited at the prospect.

“Uh, yeah…” You replied, wondering if telling them that was worse than just keeping silent and letting them bicker.

“Are we ranked?” Kaminari asked.

You bit your lip and debated how to respond. “Kind of?” Everyone looked to you and waited for your explanation. You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat before talking, “There are different categories for the rankings, but they are childish. Like, they would be titled: ‘Top Ten Cutest Japanese Hero Students’. It’s all done by teen magazines so they aren’t realistic for how heroes are actually ranked.”

“Well?” Sero replied.

“Well, what?” You asked.

“They want to know if they are ranked in the top 10,” Ashido whispered to you.

“Oh, no, they aren’t,” you said.

Ashido laughed loudly as Kaminari and Sero expressed their sadness by fake crying loudly in the middle of the cafeteria.

Bakugou kicked them under the chair and they promptly shut up.

In all honesty, you weren’t keen on talking about this pole. Your friend from school had forced you to vote and you chose Bakugou on a whim. Additionally, you had trouble keeping your mouth shut when you were nervous. You took in a deep breath and tried to mentally prepare yourself for your habit of blabbering on.

“Don’t feel bad, first years never make it,” You comforted them as they quietly weep on each other.

“Really?” They both asked in unison again.

“Well, yeah,” You paused for a moment, debating whether or not to say this next part, “Except Todoroki. He got 1st place last year.” This fact could either be your blabbering habit or just the perfect thing to say to keep the conversation interesting.

Everyone, including Bakugou, shot up at that.

“What?!”

You scratched the back of your head sheepishly as the five people in front of you stared as if silently asking you to explain yourself.

Maybe I should have kept that to myself, you thought as your classmates continued to stare.

“It’s not like it matters, the poll is silly and not even accurate, the guys that won weren’t even who I--nevermind.” You quickly ate a few more fries to stop yourself from talking as the people around you contemplated the information they were given.

That was a close one…

“Todoroki always wins with girls, it's not fair,” Kaminari sighed.

“Well, can you blame him? Todoroki is cute,” Ashido replied.

Kirishima, now with red cheeks that matched his hair, interjected in the conversation, “You think he’s cute?”

“Um,” Ashido mumbled as she looked towards the ceiling; her face somehow got even pinker, “Conventionally he is cute.”

“I think you guys are forgetting something,” Bakugou grumbled, grabbing everyone’s attention. He had his eyes closed and his feet propped up onto the table, similar to how he acted during class.

“What?” Kaminari inquired.

Bakugou pushed himself up and opened his eyes to look straight at you. He had a smirk on his face and a glint in his eyes that you didn’t quite understand. Your heart beat faster as you wondered if he realized your mistake. “She said it's not accurate. That implies that--”

“Y/L/N-kun likes someone!” Ashido interrupted.

Shit.

Your face became much redder than before and the heat from your embarrassment radiated in the room. Suddenly, your armpits were sweaty and you genuinely debated running out of the room.

It’s not like you had a crush at this point, but Bakugou definitely made you queasy in a way that resembles a crush.

Everyone stared at you with curious faces, as if you would blurt out who it was you liked, but there was no way that would happen.

“That’s ridiculous!” You replied. You bit your lip before speaking carefully, “I just said it wasn’t accurate because it's little girls voting and is nowhere near a well thought out ranking.”

“Did you vote?” Kirishima asked.

Just fucking stop talking you idiot, you begged yourself. Don’t make yourself look like even more of an idiot.

“Um, my friend made me,” You mumbled as you looked down at your food, avoiding the eyes of your friends.

Kaminari grinned and got closer to you. “Who did you vote for?”

You chuckled bashfully and looked quickly over to Bakugou, who was the person you had voted for. He was once again lazily sitting with his feet up on the cafeteria table. His arms were crossed and his eyes were like slits as he stared at you.

You looked away from Bakugou as abruptly as you had looked at him, flustering even more.

Does he care about whether or not I like someone?

You bit your lip and looked down at your food once again. You debated whether or not you should take out your earbuds. First, you would have to figure out how to take them out without anyone noticing. Next, you would be immediately flooded with the thoughts of the whole cafeteria. It would take a moment to hone in on Bakugou and you weren’t sure how strong your quirk was after yesterday.

It wasn’t worth it, especially because the answer might be bad.

You bit your bottom lip and encouraged yourself to finally respond, “That’s none of your business.”

“What?” Kaminari exclaimed. “Can’t you just tell us if it was one of us?”

There is no way that is happening. “It wasn’t,” You lied through your teeth.

“You know what?” Sero interjected, “I bet she voted for Todoroki.”

“Oh yeah!” Kaminari replied. “That’s why she won’t tell us! She doesn’t wanna seem like an idiot because she called the poll dumb.”

Although they were ultimately just teasing you, their words irked you slightly because of the sentiment. You knew that they really hoped it was one of them, that was clear. As up-and-coming young heroes, the job is often more important than your social life, and that definitely impacts your love life too. You tend to only hang out with other heroes because that is just who you are around.

Regardless of the teasing and disappointed looks that Sero and Kaminari shared, this reality was much better than the one where Bakugou learned that you actually voted for him. And so, you kept quiet as Mina jumped to your defense, claiming that it makes sense I would vote for Shouto considering how cool and handsome he was at the festival. That then led Kirishima to say that he was also equally cool and more manly than Todoroki at the sports festival.

All the while, you finally stuffed your face with your lunch, completely unaware of the red eyes glaring at you.

~~

After lunch, the conversation about America and hero rankings died down, everyone now focusing on Ectoplasm and his lecture on calculating high-value exponents without a calculator.

From there, Present Mic came in to lecture on English. He passed out a new vocabulary sheet, which didn’t really mean anything to you because of your fluency in English. Although this period of the class ran fairly smoothly, Present Mic did occasionally start a conversation with you in English to show off his skills.

By the end of class, you finished the English homework assignment within only a few minutes and Present Mic left with a more than awkward joke.

Quickly, you packed up your things and met Ashido and Hagakure to walk back to class. During this time, the three of you chatted about Hagakure’s lunch date.

“I swear he likes you, you should just confess already,” Ashido whispered so no one else could overhear.

“Shut up!” Hagakure playfully pushed her friend away which barely moved Mina.

The three of you continued to chat away, you not talking nearly as much as the other two. However, the walk home was still fun. When you got home, you all placed your jackets on your respective coat racks and took off your shoes. Hagakure and Ashido went to grab a snack while you excused yourself with the excuse of needing to do homework.

Honestly, you were ahead on your homework and could definitely spend some time relaxing with the girls. However, all day, you had been thinking about your hero costume and craved drawing up a design for a new costume. Furthermore, the stress of lunch made you want to destress by fantasizing about the perfect hero costume.

Relieved, you entered your room, took off your school uniform, and changed into your hero uniform. You then spent the next few minutes analyzing and critiquing everything you hated about it. On a piece of paper, you jotted down all your ideas to change the hero costume.

After what seemed like half an hour, you sat down at your desk and began sketching out a similar sketch to the one you made in class. The costume featured loose pants that tightened at your shins only to be wrapped in armor. Your top had armor wrapped around your waist as well but left your chest loose to help with mobility. Additionally, on top of your shoulder were two curved spikes, mainly just for fashion.

It seemed like so long ago since you started drawing this costume. You had gone through multiple papers, with two of them being filled completely with notes on what you wanted to be featured in this new costume.

You bit your lips in concentration, finding all the flaws you could in your less than pretty drawing. You were not the best artist and it didn’t help that you were struggling to contemplate all the changes you wanted.

Maybe I’m going to need more help with this costume than I think.

Defeated, you opened your computer and searched for local costume designers. You found a few options and were getting more into your research on the person you would most likely be paying hundreds of dollars to before you heard a small gurgling sound.

It was your stomach.

You looked at the clock on your computer and saw that it was half-past eight.

“Holy shit,” You whispered in shock as you thought back to the literal hours you spent on fixing your costume. You had barely achieved anything on top of that. Nevertheless, you closed your laptop and changed into a different outfit before making your way downstairs to hopefully find some food.

As you came downstairs and walked into the kitchen, you noted that Kirishima, Mina, and Bakugou were all sitting in the living room. Kirishima and Mina were both watching a movie on someone’s laptop while Bakugou more or less just stared at his phone the whole time.

It looked like they were on a date and dragged Bakugou along because they didn’t want to admit it was a date. As you walked past them and stared at the scene, you paid no attention to what was in front of you and ended up walking right into the dining table.

“Fuck!” You groaned as you grabbed your side to try and soothe the aching pain.

The sounds of the movie stopped and you looked up to see all three people looking at you.

“Are you okay?” Mina asked as she stood up. “Let me grab you an ice pack.”

“Nah, I’m good,” You responded. “I just wasn’t paying attention.” You chuckled to try and lighten the mood.

Tentatively, Ashido sat back down in her seat. “Where have you been all day, anyway?” She asked after it seemed like you recovered enough.

“Oh, I just got distracted upstairs. I didn’t realize how late it was, so I was gonna grab some food,” You replied.

“There’s no dinner left,” Kirishima sheepishly explained as you made your way to the kitchen.

“And we are kind of low on food,” Mina added while you looked through the fridge and cabinets.

You hummed in response and rummaged through every cabinet. After taking a look around, you realized all the food you all had would result in you having to cook. You bit your lip, fully aware that you were too lazy to cook anything.

Maybe I should go get some food. There is a convenient store right next to the campus.

You walked to the coat rack and grabbed your coat off the hanger. “I’m gonna go to the convenience store to get some food, just some instant noodles or something,” You explained to the three other people downstairs.

“What?” Mina interrupted as you opened the door. “This late? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You bent down to slip on your shoes before standing up again. You shrugged to the two people actually paying attention to you. “I’m hungry and don’t wanna cook.”

“Bakugou can cook!” Mina exclaimed while putting her hand on his shoulder

“Shut up,” He grumbled while shrugging her hand off him. “I don’t want to cook.”

“Well, hey!” Kirishima exclaimed as he jumped over the back of the couch to meet up with you. “I can’t let a young lady walk around at night without a manly guy to protect her.” He grinned at you and slid on his coat and shoes.

Honestly, it felt great that someone would be coming with you because you would be walking around an area you weren’t quite familiar with yet.

Suddenly, Bakugou stood up and made his way to you.

“You coming, bro?” Kirishima asked. “Damn, must be j--”

“Shut up,” Bakugou barked, “If you’re going then so am I.”  Silently, Bakugou put on his sweater and shoes while Kirishima chuckled and patted his friend on the back.

“Wait!” Ashido exclaimed. “I don’t wanna be left out,” She said as she walked around the couch to meet you at the door. “We don’t have any movie snacks anyways.” She quickly slipped on her shoes and cheetah print coat. She grinned happily at Kirishima who matched her cheery face with his own.

Even though you were now a group of four, Bakugou did not bring you much comfort and seeing the lovey-dovey Ashido and Kirishima blushing at each other made you feel like a third wheel.

“Let’s hurry. I’m tired,” Bakugou groaned as he put his phone away and opened the door.

“Of course you’re tired, you are usually in bed by now,” Kirishima laughed as you followed behind Bakugou.

Mina exited after you. “Bakugou,” She began, “I don’t know how you fall asleep so early and then also wake up so late, almost at noon.”

That brief conversation sparked an interest in you. Not only had you seen Bakugou up late just a couple days ago, but he also thought about how precious that alone time was for him. If not only for a moment, Bakugou looked towards you before looking forward again.

If you weren’t looking at him, you would not have noticed. However, you were lucky enough to be looking at him and smart enough to know that he was also thinking about that night.

“That’s none of your business,” Bakugou finally replied, his voice eerily quiet yet agitated, as Kirishima closed the door.

Kirishima just laughed as a result and Ashido shrugged at you. You shrugged back, nonetheless curious about Bakugou’s sleep schedule.

Silently, you followed the other four throughout campus. As you walked, a pattern formed where Kirishima and Ashido were walking upfront with you and Bakugou trailing behind. The silence between you and Bakugou was rather awkward and you spent most of your time observing the couple in front of you.

You knew they weren’t dating, but a stranger may just think they were in a relationship. The only thing that someone would notice that could make an argument for them not being a couple was the nervousness, blushing, and lack of PDA. Nonetheless, they still had their hands all over each other and were flirting nonstop.

“It’s gross isn’t it?”

You looked to your left at the sound of Bakugou speaking to you. “Uhh,” You looked away from the fierce red eyes to look at the couple again. Ashido had just teasingly shoved Kirishima while laughing incredibly loud at one of his jokes. “I guess so. I don’t really mind.”

Bakugou scoffed. “You probably don’t mind because you just met them.”

You gave Bakugou a puzzled face, silently asking him to elaborate.

“They’ve known each other since middle school and have been acting like this since the end of our first year,” Bakugou responded. Although you didn’t purposefully try to analyze Bakugou’s voice, you noted his rough, coarse, and tired voice.

I bet he has no clue how attractive he is. Big muscles, deep voice, and messy hair that falls in front of his tired, piercing, red eyes.

You bit your lip and forced yourself to focus back on the conversation. “Ah,” You replied. “It’s just like that sometimes, “You shrugged your shoulders as you spoke, “Hagakure and Ojiro are the same way.”

The conversation died for a moment as you finally made your way off campus and started the trek to the store nearby.

“Who?!” Bakugou finally barked as if he actually took the time to try and remember who they were.

You rolled your eyes and laughed, remembering when Kirishima had to call everyone by a certain nickname. “I think you know them by the invisible girl and tail guy.”

“Ugh, those two?” Bakugou groaned. “They’ve been like that since day one. So bland and boring.”

“Bland and boring?” You repeated, scoffing at the wording. “What does that even mean?”

“They should just date if they want to, it doesn’t matter,” Bakugou groaned.

“Why doesn’t it matter?” You questioned him.

Bakugou looked at you before looking back ahead. After a moment, he mumbled, “Nevermind.”

Apparently, that was his cue to end the conversation, and you decided not to try and push your luck at the moment.

However, that gave yourself some time back to your own thoughts, specifically your thoughts regarding your hero costume. You had made a mental list of all the costume designers you found and liked. The list included their names, average pricing, and specialties. If you were to hire someone to help you with your costume design, you were most definitely going to be thorough in picking someone you could work well with.

Soon enough, your group arrived at the convenience store and brought you out of your deep thoughts. You quickly made your way inside to grab snacks and food. You looked through the large selection of meals and instant noodles, not quite sure what to pick. Asian convenience stores were much more diverse and impressive compared to American stores. Because of this, you didn’t quite know what to pick. Comparatively, Ashido and Kirishima flew through the isles, grabbing a plethora of foods without even having to cautiously look at the label.

This was one of the few times you felt silly. You did not speak perfect Japanese, and you had to meticulously read everything on the box to make sure you knew what you were eating. You felt bad that you might hold up the group and you were tempted to just grab something and suffer the possible consequences.

“Here.”

You looked up to see Bakugou handing you a large package of noodles. You curiously took the box and started reading it.

“Don’t bother. It has more veggies than other ramen and is the right amount of spice for food this late,” Bakugou mumbled as he grabbed himself a box too. However, his box had more red on it and you assumed it was spicier.

“Thanks,” You quietly replied. It was nice of Bakugou to grab food for you, preemptively knowing exactly what you were looking for. You brushed the thought away, telling yourself it was more likely that he was doing this because he wanted to be home as soon as possible.

Bakugou nonchalantly hummed in response before looking around the store, his head peeking just over the shelves. “We need some other stuff too.”

Or maybe not. Maybe Bakugou was once again making you a meal, ensuring that you were eating well.

No, don’t read too much into this. Bakugou isn’t a relationship person and you aren’t in the best place to be in a relationship.

Silently, you followed Bakugou around the store as he grabbed a package of strawberries, which he practically threw at you, and some pre-baked tofu. He also grabbed a small package of seaweed and two drinks.

You continued to follow Bakugou around the store and up to the counter. He dropped everything on the counter and you also placed your package of noodles and strawberries on the counter. The older lady working at the counter smiled politely as she scanned everything placed on the counter.

Although you were rather clueless about why Bakugou was being kind and once again making sure you ate well, you were able to recover once you saw Bakugou grab out his wallet.

“No, no, no,” You interrupted and pulled out your own wallet, and the cash you had.

Bakugou looked at you as if you were crazy and you used that moment to push enough money forward to pay for the meal.

The cashier chuckled sweetly and accepted your cash. Bakugou groaned and leaned back on his foot, upset that you were paying.

It’s for the best, you thought as the cashier leaned forward to place the change in your hand.

“You two are such a cute couple,” She whispered to only you as she placed your change into your hand.

Just as quickly as she spoke, she pushed herself back to being upright and began bagging the food.

While completely red, you looked to Bakugou to see if he heard her comment. “What?” He groaned as he glared at you.

“Nothing,” You mumbled back and looked down to place the money back into your wallet.

Bakugou grabbed the bag of food from the woman and you bowed to say thank you, before following behind Bakugou to exit the building.

Outside, Kirishima and Ashido waited for you two with a bag of their own snacks and smiles on their faces.

“Y/L/N-kun,” Ashido yelled as she ran up to you, pulling you out of your trance. Ashido grabbed your arm and whispered to you, “Come walk with me!”

[smutbymia]

rule breaker (haechan bratty sub au)

WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ (no protection mentioned, sexual content)

Word Count: 6.4k 😯

Themes: femdom, friendship, fwb, switch, sub/dom themes, edging, replacement of the title Mistress with Princess* 

Pairing: Haechan/Lee Dong-hyuck  x Female Reader (ft. appearances from mark lee)

PLOT:  Dong-hyuck, the hyperactive and silly class clown isn’t used to following directions -- inside or outside of the bedroom. After his friend (Y/N) goes through a sudden breakup, and the discovery of a pair of handcuffs leads him to the reasoning why, he finds himself in an interesting position. He may be in for more than he expects when she offers to show him just what it was that her ex couldn’t handle. 

PS: Requests are open for fics and short blurbs

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     You absentmindedly doodled in your notebook as your teacher taught the last lesson of the day. Graduation was quickly approaching and it was clear that most other students, yourself included, had mentally checked out.

The sun poured through the massive glass windows of the classroom, putting emphasis on the speckles of dust that danced through the air and even more emphasis on the boy in the row in front of you, one desk over, who glowed under its rays. 

His tanned skin and bronze hair looked even more rich than they usually did at this time of the afternoon. With nothing else around to distract yourself with, you momentarily admired him. Lee Dong-hyuck. I mean, yes... he was certainly attractive -- but you’d hardly admit it to his face. 

“Haechan, that’s enough,” murmured the teacher, in an exasperated tone. He called the student by the nickname most of his classmates used. The name he preferred. 

The classroom was filled with a fit of giggles, coming from the students. You missed the joke. Not that you missed much. This was a typical occurrence. Hyuck was what most people would refer to as a class clown but not exactly in the traditional sense. He didn’t necessarily crack jokes, or aim for the approval of others through his form of “entertainment”. He was quick witted, and mouthy, and quite frankly a bit of an asshole but with a class this boring -- such things were greatly appreciated to lift the spirits of the students who were surely just watching the clock in hopes of the final bell ringing sooner rather than later.

Hyuck shot a quick apology back at the teacher. Mark lee, his best friend who also happened to be seated directly next to him at the desk right in front of you, pulled him into a headlock the second the teacher turned back towards the blackboard and began to ruffle his hair. The boys tried their hardest to quietly withhold their leftover laughter from whatever stupid comment was made earlier. 

“Hyung, relax!” Hyuck jokingly began, “I know you’re used to having crazy hair, but that life isn’t for me!”. He smoothed out his hair as Mark flicked him -- a punishment for his slick comment.  

“My hair isn’t crazy... its just a bit curly!” he said, trying his best to fix the dark ringlets that cascaded over his forehead. 

You reached across your desk and softly pulled at one of his curls. “Don’t listen to him Mark, your curls are seriously too cute,” you whispered as you shot him a quick wink. His cheeks flushed pink and he responded with a shy smile and quick nod of his head in your direction.

Hyuck swivelled his head around, narrowing his eyes at Mark before turning to you with an expression you were far too familiar with. The boy pouted as he leaned his elbow back onto the empty desk next to you before fluttering his eyes as he rested his cheek in the palm of his hand. 

“And what about me, Y/N?” he asked. As lovely as he looked, still glowing in the sunlight, you had no choice but to take him down a peg... but not before having some fun with the little flirt. 

“Hmm...” you sighed, narrowing your gaze as though you were thinking deeply. You brushed your hand across his exposed cheek and leaned closer to his face. The smug look on his face disappeared with each inch you eliminated between the two of you. By the time your faces were directly in front of each other, he looked a little flustered. 

You lowered your voice seductively before speaking. “I think...” you began, “you’re probably due for a haircut.” Mark chuckled under his breath after witnessing the exchange. 

Just as you thought you’d won the battle, Hyuck quickly snapped back “But then you’d have nothing to pull on, Y/N”. With your faces still close together, he dropped his gaze to your lips before licking his own. 

“Okay, gross...” murmured Mark, before turning his attention back to the teacher who was still aimlessly drawing formulas all over the chalkboard. Hyuck’s intense gaze shifted between your lips and your eyes before you decided to break the distance between the two of you. 

“In your dreams, Dong-hyuck,” you said as you leaned back into your chair, sighing deeply and rolling your eyes. He furrowed his brows, annoyed at your refusal to call him by the name everyone else used. 

“Actually, you usually call me Haechan when you’re screaming my name in my dreams...” he mumbled stubbornly before turning back around in his seat. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, completely impressed by how nonchalantly he admitted to fantasizing about you. Typical Hyuck. 

The rest of the class passed by painfully slow. The final bell pretty much brought every student back from the dead as they jumped up, excited to start their weekends. You gathered your belongings to leave class with both Mark and Hyuck trailing behind you. 

All three of you had gone to school together for years and were considered to be pretty decent friends. Mark and Hyuck were obviously extremely close, like brothers almost, and you were once a big part of their friendship as well until you all hit puberty and the dynamic seemed to shift. Hyuck got more flirty, Mark got a little more nervous, and the time you all spent together was limited to whatever classes you coincidentally shared and conversations at parties or in passing at school. 

This was one of those moments. The three of you navigated your ways through the halls of your school as other students chattered amongst themselves about the parties happening that weekend, while emptying out their lockers for the day.

Hyuck and Mark were discussing some new album that had just been released when you reached the entrance of your school.

“Hey, isn’t that your boyfriend over there?” Hyuck asked, nudging your shoulder. 

All three of you glanced up at a boy hanging by the bottom of the staircase, speaking with a group of students. His smile dropped from his face the second he looked up and met your gaze, replacing it with an expression of... fear, almost. He quickly wrapped up his conversation and turned in the opposite direction before walking off. 

“Jeez, Y/N. What was that about?” Mark asked. 

“Yeah, he looks terrified. What did you do to him?” Hyuck began, “and where do I sign up?” He chuckled at his own remark as Mark rolled his eyes. 

The two boys turned to you waiting for a response but all they got was a shrug. This wasn’t anything new.

“Just another guy who thought he could handle me. The usual,” you stated, pulling out your phone from your pocket to scroll through the notifications. 

Hyuck and Mark both stared at you wide-eyed, not quite sure what to make of your intentionally ambiguous statement. You gracefully pushed past them, disregarding the encounter with your ex, and continued walking down the stairs. The boys fell right into step behind you.

Your mom had sent you a message, reminding you that you were going to be alone for the weekend while she went away with her new boyfriend -- for the second time this month. 

“Ugh, again?” you mumbled to yourself. Hyuck grabbed the phone out of your hand to read the message as mark peered over his shoulder. 

“You’re so lucky you have us, you know. When’s the last time we camped out at your place anyway?” he said, tilting his head while racking his brain. 

“7th grade” Mark responded, “You almost slipped off the roof when we climbed up through Y/N’s window.”

You all chuckled at the memory. You had almost forgotten just how close you all once were. The thought of being home alone for the second weekend in a row did sound boring.

Hyuck slung his arm around your shoulder as Mark fiddled with his cellphone next to the both of you as you walked your way through campus. The sun still broke through the few clouds left in the sky as students lounged around outdoors and others caught their busses home. 

“You know what you need?” he began, “A real man like me. Someone who can  protect you! Someone who can take control and --” the sound of Marks phone cut him off and quite frankly, you were thankful. 

“Oh jeez, I totally forgot that I promised Jaemin I’d help him with something tonight. Is it cool if I meet up with you guys a little later? I’ll make it just before bed, I promise!” he said, as he walked backwards, nearly stumbling over his feet as he responded to the message before breaking off into a run back towards the school entrance. 

You both shook your heads at his hasty exit. “Meet me in an hour?” Hyuck asked. You nodded in agreement before you both went your separate ways for the time being.

                              ♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

      You were just about to step into the shower when there was a knock at your door. You descended the staircase and opened the door to Hyuck standing out front with an overnight bag in hand. 

It may have been a while but he entered your home as if it was his own, kicking off his shoes in the same place your family did and climbing his way up the stairs back towards your bedroom, mumbling about some surprise party Mark and Jaemin were planning for Jeno’s birthday.

Once you got back to the room, Hyuck dropped his bag and flopped backwards into your bed. “Ah, I can’t believe you still have those,” he said, pointing at the glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling before pulling out his phone to take a picture that you were certain he’d send to mark. The three of you struggled to get those up there the last time they were over. 

“I’m going to shower -- and before you ask, yes... without you,” you proclaimed. Hyuck, who had been ready to make that exact remark suddenly shut his mouth before nodding his head and returning his attention to his cellphone. 

A few moments later you returned to the room, fresh out of the shower, in a pair of lounge shorts and a white tank top that sat just at your waist. However, Hyuck was no longer on your bed where you left him. 

He had changed into some sweats but stood shirtless with his back facing you, his tanned skin and muscles emphasized by the setting sun that spilled the remainder of its golden orange light through your window. You really couldn’t help but take a brief moment to admire him. As you got closer to him, he turned around with a mischievous grin on his face. That admiration disappeared the second you realized why. 

“You know... I was wondering where those marks on your bed frame came from,” he teased as he held a pair of black handcuffs in his hands. 

“Did you SERIOUSLY go through my stuff?!” you yelled, marching across the room to retrieve the cuffs from him. He lifted them out of your reach and dangled them over your head. 

Your cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink as you jumped up, just now realizing how much taller than you he now was. 

“Y/N, now I see why your ex is so scared of you!” he joked, “Wait.. HEY!”

You had jumped up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He instinctively held onto you to avoid the two of you toppling over. Your handcuffs were finally within your reach again. When the commotion settled, you realized you were still in his arms and pressed against his half naked body. As you began to lower yourself, you were met with the feeling of his erection.

 “Okay, seriously? That quickly?” you questioned, as the bulge grew against your center. Hyuck slowly put you down with a sheepish grin on his face. 

“Its not my fault you’re basically naked!” he retorted. 

“Says you! Besides this is my room,” you countered, slapping his chest. He winced in pain as he rubbed the spot that was now plastered with a faint outline of your hand. 

“Is this how rough you are during sex?” he said jokingly. You furrowed your brows, lips descending into a slight frown, suddenly self conscious about the statement. You weren’t exactly insecure about your kinks, but because they played a role in your recent breakup the topic was a bit sensitive. 

     He noticed the sudden change in your expression and sat himself on the edge of your bed before speaking again. “Hey, I was just kidding. This stuff seems hot, I just --” he began before you interrupted him. 

     “He freaked out and started acting weird, Hyuck. He acted like I was some sort of monster for even suggesting the type of sex I wanted to have. I mean, I get it’s not for everyone but he looks at me now like I’m crazy and we didn’t even try anything,” you confessed. It felt good to get the reasoning behind your breakup off your chest because you hadn’t had anyone to speak to about it yet.

He took the handcuffs from your hand before snapping them open. “Show me,” he demanded. You were taken aback by his sudden proclamation. 

“With all due respect, I don’t think you’re the right candidate for this kind of stuff,” you said, laughing at the thought of Hyuck powerless. Your laugh faded when you watched as he attached himself to your headboard, now laying there with his hands above his head. 

He looked... sexy. Your breathing increased slightly and your nipples hardened through your shirt. You were hoping Hyuck was too distracted by his positioning to notice but his eyes scanned right over your body the second you attempted to meet his gaze. 

“Wow, you must be really into this stuff...” he said, not looking away from the rise and fall of your breasts and their protruding nipples. You were too caught off guard by the sudden change in your rooms atmosphere to speak. Instead, you crawled across the bed before unlocking the handcuffs, and freeing his arms.

“Wait, I thought you were going to...” he began. 

“If you want to see what it’s like, you need to do exactly as I say,” you said in almost a whisper. He stared up at you, still laying on your bed with a surprised look on his face. Your tone had changed. He nodded, and you turned to get off the bed before rummaging through your closet for a box that Hyuck hadn’t yet found. 

You placed it on the edge of your bed and he curiously peered towards it, ready for your demonstration. You weren’t exactly sure how far this would go. You weren’t even sure if you’d end up having sex but you were curious to see how Hyuck would feel about your preferences, and you valued his opinion. 

“Stand up,” you demanded sternly. A smile danced across his face as he excitedly rushed off the bed. “Undress,” you continued. 

“Wait, for real?” he almost yelled. It dawned on you that you were actually about to potentially cross a line between your demonstration and actual sex. You backtracked slightly. 

“Um... just your pants. Keep your boxers on,” you answered. Hyuck’s face fell, clearly disappointed. He sighed and untied the waist band of his sweats before stepping out of them. 

He instinctively stepped forward to tug at the strings on your shorts, assuming that you’d both be getting undressed. You grabbed his wrist in response, with your other hand gripping at his neck. He froze, taken aback by your quick movements. 

“Did I say you could undress me?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. Hyuck was momentarily flustered before his smile broke across his face once more.

“Wow, Y/N. I didn’t think you had it in you,” he laughed, as he freed his wrist from your grasp to rope his hands around your waist. 

“First rule. You refer to me as princess,” you said, as you removed your hand from his neck and swatted his hand away from your waist. “And you seem to be having difficulty keeping your hands to yourself...” you began. 

You returned to your closet to grab a belt -- the solution to your problem. “Can you blame me? Look at you... wait what are you getting that for?” he asked, noticing the leather belt you were carrying towards him. 

“Your actions have consequences, baby. Hold out your hands,” you demanded. He narrowed his eyes at you in defiance, his mischievous smile returning. “I won’t ask you again. Hold out your hands Hyuck,” you repeated. This was already getting exhausting. You knew he’d be a handful but you didn’t expect it to start this early. 

He finally complied, and you fastened the belt around his wrists, tugging at it to make sure that it was secure enough.

“Okay Y/N, what’s next?” he asked.  The look on your face was telling. He knew almost instantly that he had made a mistake and was quick to correct himself, “I- I mean princess,” he stuttered.

“Good, you’re learning. On your knees,” you ordered. He dropped to his knees almost immediately. You sat down on the bed with Hyuck facing you, pausing to stroke his cheek as you examined his face. He looked so beautiful on his knees in front of you like that, even though it took him so long. You could feel yourself getting turned on again at the sight of him in yet another submissive position. 

You took another moment to trail your eyes down his body, pausing at the large erection bulging out of his boxers. “Have you been turned on this entire time, baby?” you asked, still stroking his face. He nodded. 

“Please use your words, Hyuck,” you urged. 

“Yes, princess,” he said calmly. 

“You’ve already given me such a hard time. You like breaking rules don’t you?” you asked him. You had leaned forward to meet him at eye level, your faces centimetres from one another. Your every breath danced against his lips, and his against yours. 

“Yes, princess,” he admitted. 

“If you break the rules, you’ll get punished. I won’t go easy on you, especially if you do it on purpose. Do you understand me?” you said, no gripping his face. 

“Y-yes princess,” he stammered. 

“Undress me,” you ordered. He began to lift himself off his knees before you reached out and pushed him back down towards the floor. A brief look of confusion crossed his face as he looked down at his bound hands. 

“Use your teeth, baby,” you urged. You began by lifting one of your feet towards him. He peeled off your sock before doing the same on the other foot. 

You helped him up to his feet and he proceeded to hook his teeth around one of the straps of your tank top, followed by the other. He struggled slightly but eventually pulled the top down the length of your body, leaving you topless.

He stared at your bare chest, nipples erect, and stepped closer to you with a look of hunger in his eyes. “Keep going,” you demanded. He seemed to snap out of his trance as he glanced back up to meet your gaze. There was a familiar look in his eyes. A look that always came before trouble. 

Hyuck lowered himself to his knees as slowly as he possibly could, blowing air across your nipples, across your chest, and down your tummy. The sensation sent shivers down your body. You didn’t bother stopping him. It felt good. He’d be getting punished for it later anyway. 

As he reached the waistband of your shorts, he untied them with his teeth before dragging them down the length of your legs, followed by your panties. When he was done, he peered up at your naked body. 

“Fuck,” he murmured to himself. His gaze took in every inch of you. “You’re so beautiful, princess.”

Your heart fluttered at his statement. You sat back at the edge of the bed, and he instinctively returned to his position directly in front of you, like an obedient sub. 

“Hyuck, listen. Before we continue, we need to establish a safe word. If you feel uncomfortable, say sunset and i’ll stop whatever i’m doing,” you said. “Yes, princess,” he responded almost immediately, “but i think i’ll be able to handle it.” He flashed a quick wink before running his eyes back over your body again, this time biting his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“I’m serious. I’m not going to go easy on you. Especially since you’ve been such a brat so far,” you said. You slowly spread your legs then reached out and grabbed him by his hair before pulling him towards you. 

Hyuck wasted no time diving towards your heat faster than you even directed him, mouth agape. You had to pull his head back before he could make contact with your skin, no matter how badly you wanted it. 

“Don’t be so eager, baby. Wait for your directions,” you reminded him. You held him centimetres away from your slit by his hair. “Stick your tongue out for me,” you ordered. He quickly complied. You brought him closer to your center and the second he met your hot flesh, he licked the entire length of it. 

You groaned in response at the sudden contact before forcing his head backward. You had to stay in control. No matter how good it felt. 

“I- I didn’t tell you to move your tongue,” you stammered. Your breathing had increased and your chest was now quickly rising and falling. 

“Stick your tongue out. I’m going to ride your face. And you aren’t going to move your tongue until I say you can. Do you understand, baby?” you asked, still out of breath. 

Hyuck groaned, his erection desperately forcing itself against the fabric of his boxer briefs. “Yes, princess. I understand,” he responded, before resuming his position. 

You brought his head back into position, once again moaning at the sudden contact. This time Hyuck followed his orders and remained still. You slowly began rocking your hips back and forth against his tongue. 

“Oh, yes baby. Fuck... You’re doing so well,” you praised. Your other hand reached up to massage your breasts, still moving rhythmically against Hyuck’s face. He stared up at you, wide eyed, admiring the expressions of pleasure on your face. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world and it turned you on even more. 

With one hand still wrapped in his hair, you applied more pressure to yourself feeling his tongue slip through your folds as you gyrated your hips faster. His nose brushed up against your clit with every stroke and the higher you raised your hips, the deeper his tongue dove into your entrance. You watched as your juices covered his chin, soaking the entire bottom half of his face. 

“Dong-Hyuck... you- you look so pretty. Like an angel,” you began. It wasn’t like you to shower a sub with so much affection but you couldn’t help it this time. He groaned in response. The sensation increased your pleasure as his mouth vibrated. 

“Do you want me to cum on your face like this?” you asked, getting closer to your orgasm. “I’m so close baby,” you moaned. He groaned once more in response sending the vibrations back through your body, this time shutting his eyes. 

“Fuck me with your tongue. I need you to look me in the eyes while you do it,” you ordered. Hyuck followed your orders, meeting your gaze once more as he altered the angle of his tongue to better penetrate your hole. With your fingers intertwined in his hair, you forced his tongue in and out of yourself. Your free hand dropped from your chest as you began to draw circles on your clit. 

You felt the tension building up inside you. You momentarily threw your head back, enjoying the stimulation -- beads of sweat dripping down the sides of your forehead. One last look at the boy between your legs was all it took to send you over the edge as you reached your climax. It was beyond any orgasm you had ever reached before. You could feel your legs shake as the rest of your body convulsed. Still savouring every last moment, you continued to jerk yourself over Hyuck’s face, body shivering at the overstimulation, before falling back onto your bed. 

The room was filled with gasps from both you and Hyuck, as you attempted to slowed your heart rate and as he caught his breath. After a few minutes, you lifted yourself back up. Hyuck sat there still, gazing curiously at you. He was taken aback by your intense orgasm.

“Are you okay, Princess?” he quietly asked. You must have been laying there longer than you thought. You nodded. His face was still covered in your juices when you got up to grab a towel before kneeling down to him and wiping his chin. 

He watched you, attempting to read your face while you cleaned him up. As you shifted your position to get closer to him your knee brushed against his erection. He winced in pain. The poor baby had been turned on for quite some time now and he shifted his thighs looking for some relief. 

You discarded the towel before motioning for Hyuck to stand. Once he was back up on his feet again, you stripped him of his remaining piece of clothing. 

His erection sprang free from his boxers, nearly hitting you in the face due to your proximity. This time, it was you who was on their knees in front of Hyuck. He looked down at you with an equally pained and eager expression on his face, waiting for your next move. 

“Wow, Hyuck. I didn’t expect you to be this big,” you cooed, as you dragged your fingernails over his length. He shutter in response, moaning under his breath. 

“Did it turn you on when I used your face like that?” you asked, gazing up at him seductively. He shifted his footing before responding. 

“Yes princess, of course,” he said. He reached down, arms still bound by your leather belt, towards his cock. You stopped him immediately. 

“You don’t get to touch yourself. And you don’t get to cum until I say you do, understood?” you ordered. Hyuck groaned in response, clearly frustrated at the predicament he was in. 

Your hands circled around his base as you gripped him. He let out a deep moan and threw his head back, nearly losing his footing. He was so turned on, every touch seemed to numb his senses. You began slowly pumping up and down his length, watching his legs shake. A bead of pre-cum, escaped from his tip as his pleasure increased. Knowing it would push him over the edge, with a quick swipe of your tongue, you tasted him. 

“Y/N... babe, please...” he whined. “I need to come,” he pleaded. 

“You’re breaking a lot of rules, Hyuck. And you know what happens when you break rules right?” you warned.“I get punished,” he responded. 

“So you do know better, after all,” you said, releasing him from your grip. He groaned at the loss of contact. Feeling defeated. You watched as he hung his head, eyes closed. You almost felt bad but you warned him that you wouldn’t go easy on him. 

You motioned for him to lay on the bed and he did. You removed the belt from around his wrists, softly rubbing at the red marks it left behind. Hyuck looked exhausted. 

You raised his arms up and fastened him back to the headboard with the handcuffs he had place himself in before. He complied without complaints. You crawled across the bed to retrieve a black silk blindfold from the box you had brought out earlier. 

Hyuck peered over your shoulder, trying to spot the other objects inside but gave up quickly, overestimating the amount of energy he had left. His head feel back against the pillows on your bed as he awaited his fate. 

You straddled him, with his erection pressing gently against your ass causing him to stir and groan beneath you. Once the blindfold was secure, you directed your attention back towards his erection, once again pumping at his length. 

Hyuck’s body jerked in response to your touch as he raised his hips up, trying to thrust into your hand before you pushed him back into place. “Don’t be fussy. Hold still or else this will take longer than it needs to,” you warned. 

He was breathing deeply now, as more beads of cum gathered at his tip. He was trying his best not to release himself but you could tell he was close. Covering his eyes had probably increased his senses, but it also seemed to calm him down a bit more. You made a mental note of it for next time. 

You froze as you caught yourself absentmindedly thinking about having sex with Hyuck like this again. He groaned again, disappointed at the halt in your strokes. This had been the second or third time you had stopped. 

You had been edging him all this time without realizing and you knew he was nearing his limit. You took the opportunity to lick along base of his cock all the way back up to the tip. He shivered and let out his loudest moan yet. 

“F-fuck. P-please, do that again,” he pleaded. You sunk your mouth over the tip of his throbbing erection and his head fell back onto the pillow. He moaned your name as you slowly took every inch of him into your mouth, feeling the tip brush against your throat. 

Hyuck muttered every curse word he knew, along with a couple of dirty phrases that you didn’t expect to hear. He even moaned your name, which should have warranted another punishment if it hadn’t sounded so fucking amazing falling from his parted lips. Still you couldn’t allow him to speak so freely. 

You removed yourself from his length which generated yet another groan from Hyuck. You sat quietly by his side for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall and a single tear slide down one of his cheeks before picking up the discarded pair of panties he had taken off of you earlier and balling them up in your firsts. 

“You’re too loud baby. I need to fix that. Open your mouth for me,” you cooed as you ran your free hand across his chest. Hyuck whimpered before opening up his mouth. You placed the undies inside carefully. This was it. This was the image you’d have imprinted in your mind forever. The image of Hyuck cuffed and blindfolded to your bed with your panties in his mouth. You couldn’t help but lower your hands to touch yourself. You slipped a finger into your entrance, quietly moaning. 

It took Hyuck a moment to realize what you were doing. it wasn’t until the sounds of you fucking yourself increased that he let out a knowing moan and began pulling at the handcuffs. 

Wetness seeped out of you when you straddled his hips, hovering over his erection. You positioned him at your entrance before slowly sinking down onto him. He let out a deep muffled growl in response and immediately started to thrust himself up into you, hitting your sweet spot. 

“Oh my goodness, Hyuck...” you gasped, with each thrust. You shouldn’t have been letting him move so much. As each stroke became more frantic, you used every ounce of your will power to pull yourself off of him once more. 

This time Hyuck protested even more. He yanked at the handcuffs, rattling the bed frame. You knew you were torturing him at this point. He still hadn’t used the safe word yet but you knew he was at his limit. You reached towards his blindfold first, removing it from his eyes. His eyelids where low but he still shifted his gaze to meet yours. You pulled the panties from his mouth and reached up to free him of his hand cuffs. 

“What are you doing?” he asked in a quiet tone. 

“Sunset,” you whispered. His face twisted in confusion. 

“Huh? But I d-didn’t say it,” he responded.

“I know, baby, But I did. I can’t take it anymore,” you confessed.

“Can I?” his voice trailed off as he moved his hands towards you, hovering them over your skin asking for permission to touch you, as if the rules still applied. He was so well behaved -- the complete opposite from how he was when you first began. You nodded and he let out a sigh of relief as his hands traced the outline of your body, first moving up your arms before gliding over your breasts. 

He delicately ran his fingers over your nipples and then back down your stomach again. He paused at your hips before snaking his hands around you to grip your ass, sighing as though he had been waiting his whole life to do so. 

The pressure was building back up for you both. His erection still hadn’t disappeared and you were shocked he had held off for so long. You reached down as he watched you position yourself to sink down onto him once more before he stopped you. 

“You’re not in charge anymore are you?” he asked, eyes going dark. His demeanour had changed but he still was taking heavy breaths, yearning for his own release. 

“Technically...no,” you hesitantly responded. 

“Good,” Hyuck stated, as he propped himself up on the bed. Within seconds he had repositioned you. Your arms were pressed against your bed frame, as you arched your back. He wanted you from behind. Hyuck wasn’t patient as he placed one of his arms next to yours to steady himself and the other around the base of his cock. 

He thrusted into you, drawing a loud moan from your lips. He wrapped his free arm around you, applying pressure to the lower part of your stomach as he disappeared into you over and over again. 

Your breasts bounced with every stroke. He pulled your hips towards himself, burying himself as deeply into you as he possibly could. 

“I’ve been waiting so long to do this to you,” he groaned into your ear before capturing a lobe between his teeth. The sensation sent tingles down your spine. He proceeded to drop kisses down your neck, marking you, as you approached your orgasm. He quickened his pace, the sound of slapping flesh filling the room. You could feel him throbbing inside you, so incredibly close to his release. 

“Fuck, i- I can’t hold it any longer!” he exclaimed. He reached his free hand down between your legs before rubbing circles onto your clit while thrusting into you. 

“H-Haechan,” you moaned. It was the first time you had ever used his nickname and it was just enough to send him over the edge. 

“Y/N.. baby.. fuck,” he stammered. Your orgasm coursed through you as you felt him fill your insides with his cum. His body went still for a second before he collapsed onto your back, heavily breathing and unable to hold up his own weight. 

Haechan gasped for air as you moved from under him, laying him gently on the bed. Beads of sweat were scattered across his face. Before he could regain his composure, you slipped out of bed to clean yourself up. Minutes later, you returned in a new set of pyjamas and a few other items. Haechan’s eyes shot open as you ran a hot towel over his body, cleaning him up. He simply stared up at you, not moving or saying a word as you took care of him. You rubbed oil onto his wrists, massaging over the red indentations the belt and handcuffs left behind, before massaging his knees as well.

When you were done, you pulled him into your chest and bundled him up under your bedsheets. The two of you didn’t move for what felt like ages. After some time had passed, Haechan had slipped out of bed to put on a new change of clothes. You took the opportunity to grab some water and fruit from the kitchen before you both sat next to each other again, aimlessly chatting as you always did. Things had changed between you two. He brushed your hair out of your face as always, but this time his touches lingered more. He playfully licked the juices off your fingers as you fed him fruit, but still teased you as he typically would. He even stopped to sprinkle your face with kisses before capturing your lips with his own. Neither of you really knew what this meant for your relationship but that wasn’t a conversation that needed to happen now anyway. 

As you giggled with each other, picking at what was left over the fruits, you both fell silent as you heard footsteps on your staircase. 

Marks head popped into your doorway seconds later. “Hey, you idiots didn’t even lock the door, and what happened to your phones I’ve been trying to call you for the past hour!” he complained, dropping his bag next to Hyuck’s. 

“Hyung!” Haechan proclaimed, still taken aback by Marks sudden entrance. 

“Don’t hyung me, what the hell have you guys been --” marks voice trailed off as his eyes zeroed in on the headboard. 

“Yo Y/N, what did you do to your bed... wait,” his voiced trailed off once more as his eyes dropped to the marks on Haechan’s wrists. He tried to cover them up with his sleeves but was too late. 

“Holy shit, you let her use those handcuffs that you showed me on you? WAIT... What the fuck happened here?” he exclaimed, jumping off the bed in shock. 

You and Haechan burst into a fit of laughter at Mark, who looked equally horrified and disgusted. His cheeks were blushing bright red, and the warmth had reached his ears too. 

“You guys are gross, you know that...” he muttered, pulling the plate of fruits away from you both, trying his hardest not to touch the bed. 

Moments later, Marks words registered in your head and soon enough you were pushing Haechan off of the bed and onto the floor to join his best friend.

“I can’t believe you sent him a picture of the handcuffs too! You idiot!” you yelled. 

“It was BEFORE we used them!” he responded. The three of you laughed and bickered back and forth as the sun finally set. 

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

final words: wow this one was a bit tough to write. Haechan is a mischievous little thing in this fic and in real life too but I still couldn’t handle the thought of him suffering too much. He’ll always make me soft no matter what 🥺 also Mark was supposed to have a smaller part in this but he just fit so well I even had to put him in the opening gif! please leave your thoughts/comments or feel free to give any criticism so I can correct anything that may be insensitive/inaccurate in my fics. Thank you!

[black-out-wonder]

Never Judge A Book: A Sanders Sides High School AU // Chapter 2

Here’s the next part! I’m glad you guys are enjoying it so far! This is gonna be a LOT more lighthearted than OAAC, but it’s still gonna have angst bc why not. I hope you like this next part! And let me know if you want to be tagged if you haven’t been tagged yet!

Pairings: Eventual Prinxiety, Intrulogical

Warnings: Cussing, flirting, sex mentions, feelings of loneliness

Chapter 1 // You are here // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5

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

Roman was still reeling from this morning. To say he was a disaster gay was an understatement. All he could think about were those goddamn eyes, beautiful colors with a spark of mischief. He had to keep himself from thinking about the athlete. He knew that even showing a lick of interest was a bad idea. If he did that, it was all over. Virgil would have him easily, and despite him being incredibly attractive, he was not about to fall down that rabbit hole.

As he made his way towards his last class, he convinced himself that it was a one-time thing. There was no way Virgil would ever seek him out. It was just a coincidence; right place, right time. There was nothing to worry about, nothing at all.

He was contradicted when he walked into English and saw the boy himself, deep in conversation with Douglas McFarland, better known as Dee. He forgot that these two were in his class. It was very well known that the two were very good friends, but they were always on again, off again. Well, to describe it right, there were a lot of one night stands between the two, and neither of them tried to keep it a secret. Dee was a cheerleader, and he got a lot of positive attention because of his vitiligo. It was also known that Dee liked to gossip and stir the pot. 

Virgil didn’t even glance in his direction, snickering at something Dee had said as Roman made his way to the back of the class. He was right, a one-time thing. Pure happenstance. It was what he wanted, but why was he slightly...disappointed? He shook his head, knowing that his thoughts were nonsense. He wasn’t disappointed, this was exactly what he wanted! 

Roman took out his notebook, doodling randomly while the teacher entered the room. He ignored what the teacher was saying, too engrossed with what he was drawing. It wasn’t until he heard his name being called that he started paying attention. “What?” He blurted out.

They were scattered snickers as the teacher sighed, “We are doing a partner project Roman. Your partner is Virgil. He’ll explain what’s going on.”

Wait...Virgil? The Virgil? His eyes snapped in the popular boy's direction, only to see those eyes staring right at him, a smirk playing at his lips. Roman quickly averted his gaze, cursing to himself. Of course, this was happening. If there was any higher power, it really hated him. 

A few moments later, Virgil had dragged a chair by his desk, perhaps a bit closer than was necessary. “Basically it’s an argumentative essay in PowerPoint fashion,” he explained. “We just have to choose a topic.”

Roman nodded, still refusing to meet his gaze. He would get this project done and then they would never interact again. Yeah, that sounds good. He started scribbling down ideas for topics, hoping to get a mental picture before sharing. Suddenly, he heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor and felt warmth on the right side of his body. He glanced over to see that Virgil had pressed himself against his side just to see the paper in front of him. “What the heck are you doing?” He questioned, staring incredulously.

“So he speaks,” the slightly shorter boy placed his chin into his hand, his elbow positioned on the desk, a shit-eating grin growing on his face. “I couldn’t see what you were writing. Since we’re partners, shouldn’t I be able to see?”

Roman turned his attention back to the paper. “I guess so,” he mumbled.

He continued to scribble down ideas, trying (keyword: trying) to ignore the physical contact. “Got a girlfriend, Princey?”

Roman sputtered at the blunt questioned, “I’m gay.”

“Boyfriend, then?”

“No.”

“Really? You’re single?”

“Why, yes.”

Virgil leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face, “Huh, good to know.”

“Why did you ask?” Roman grew the courage to shoot back.

He shrugged, “I don’t know. I mean, a good looking guy such as yourself should be able to pull some attention.”

He couldn’t stop himself this time as he felt the blood rush to his face. He was good looking? Him? He had to be talking about someone else. “U-Um,” Roman stammered. “I hardly think that-”

“Aw, that’s so cute,” Virgil leaned forward, staring him directly in the eye. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

The chair made a loud scraping sound as he shot up from his seat, announcing, “I’m afraid I have to use the restroom, excuse me!”

Roman rushed out of the classroom, walking down the hallway to the bathroom. As he did so, he dialed a very familiar number, knowing that they would answer. “Why are you calling me during class?” Remus, his twin brother, chirped. “This is so not like you. Did you get swapped with a body snatcher? If so, let me get some pics for my Tumblr.”

“No,” he groaned as he began to explain the entire situation to his brother.

As to be expected, Remus began to laugh uncontrollably. He should’ve known that this was going to be his reaction. “Remus? Hello?” Roman snapped, bringing his back, “Got any ideas to help me out with edgy Tom Holland?”

“Why not just fuck him and get it done and over with? That’s how I got Logan!” Remus insisted. “You’re clearly drooling-”

“I am not!” He replied in a harsh whisper. “And I’m not going to fuck him!”

“I bet that you will.”

“I will not!”

“Bet.”

Roman groaned, rubbing his face with his hand. Why did he think Remus would be able to give him some good advice. He loved his brother, but he had no idea what tact was. He took things to the max and chaos followed in his wake. “I don’t even know why I called you,” he mumbled.

“I don’t know why either,” Remus mused. “You should’ve known what I was going to say about it.”

“Yeah, yeah, see you later,” Roman grumbled, hanging up.

Well, that was pointless. He knew that as soon as he saw his twin, he was going to go into a rant about how Roman needed to listen to him more. He stared down helplessly at his phone, realizing that he didn’t really have anyone else to turn to for advice. He wasn’t the most popular kid at their school. He wasn’t really close with anyone in theatre, no matter how much he loved to perform. There was Logan, Remus’ boyfriend, but they were barely friends, only knowing each other through his twin. 

It was then that he realized how alone he really was.

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

Taglist:

@bookwyrminspiration @fandoms-winkitywonk @soul-of-a-vixen @thgjclw @jessicakennedy957 @common-placee @infinitywarkilledmysoul

[smolfangirl]

Drawing the line

For a fic I had no plot idea for, this turned out quite long :D It’s an artist au with some inspiration from @over-the-pink-moon lovely moodboards *-* Also thanks to @miris-xo for helping me to find anything related to a plot. I hope you enjoy this, especially since I might not have a lot of internet to post new things over the next two months at the end of the world ^^

Word count: 2.9k

///

She always leaves a trace when she walks out of his place. A pencil or a brush on the kitchen table, a quick sketch or color study left to dry on his desk. Once he finds a cup with paint water forgotten by the sink. Her thoughts remind Matteo of the TV screens in a tech store – five different movies playing and without the sound, nothing makes sense. As soon as she begins to pack up, new ideas flicker through her mind, so she simply forgets what remains out of her immediate sight.

But he doesn’t mind cleaning up after her.

Instead, he puts on the playlist inspired by her and wanders through every room, searching for her clues. If he’s lucky she forgot something important and asks him to meet up between classes. Some days (mostly Tuesdays) she even asks him if he wants to tag along to the cafeteria. He never says no.

Today, she forgot her notebook on the couch. Luna has been doodling in it while he discussed the grocery list with Gastón, and the moment he walked up to the couch again, she tossed it away like it was on fire. Before he could ask, she pretended to be deeply lost in filling the canvas with colors.

In moments like these he’d trade his first guitar for a glance into her mind.

The notebook feels heavy in his hands as he picks it up. It’s not the small sketchbook she uses for first drafts and carries around everywhere. And, from experience, forgets everywhere too. He’s only seen the fancy sketchbook two times before, and both times she threatened him to not even blink at it or she’ll ruin his mom’s gift the night before her birthday.

Nothing tempts him more than to sneak a glimpse at whatever Luna is trying to hide from him.

///

To Luna: How much is your nice sketchbook worth to you?

///

The moment she holds it in her hands again, she sighs so loud that the people around them turn around and stare. “And you didn’t look inside? Not even once?”

“Is that how little faith you have in me? After all the times I brought you your other sketchbook, or your brushes, or those funny little sponges and…”

“Okay, okay,” Luna mutters, one hand playing with her hair, “I get it. I shouldn’t come over to work on that painting for your mom anymore, given how much stuff I forget every time.”

She wants to walk right past him, into the cafeteria, but Matteo follows her with ease. A smirk rests on his mouth. “That’s not what we agreed on, and you know that.”

With an eyeroll, she takes a step back to let three guys leave the aisle with their heavy trays. When she’s by Matteo’s side again, a corner of her mouth twitches slightly upward. “Just for the record, none of the people I made commissions for so far asked to watch me while I’m working. Only you did.”

“Because I’m curious to see how the magic happens. And didn’t you say you usually don’t do commissions? That this was an exception for being the hero who gave you your sketchbook back?” Five times, to be exact. How anyone could forget the same thing, in the same classroom, five weeks in a row, remains a miracle to Matteo. But no matter the reasons why, he’s happy to have found her along with the book.

They reach the dessert bar. Luna begins to heap chocolate pudding into a bowl, one arm awkwardly clenching her sketchbook. Matteo watches her for a moment, then snickers. “Do you want me to hold this for…”

“No!” She doesn’t even let him get to the end of the question. “I’m good, you don’t have to.” Realizing she had just shouted at him, she flinches. “Thanks, but no. Just pick a dessert, okay? I’ll pay.”

He chooses a strawberry cheesecake.

///

“So, did you cook this or did your mom make that for you?” he asks after they sit down at the only free table for two, nodding towards her lunchbox.

“My mom. If I tried this, everything would look like a giant mess of green pasta.”

Matteo shakes his head in amusement and chews on his homemade sandwich. “Damn, the poor spinach.”

“How’s your sandwich?” She drowns the latest bite with a sip from her water bottle, and her eyes linger on his cheesecake long enough for him to consider teasing her about it.

Instead, he puts on a smirk. “Good, of course. I just prepared it before my first class.”

They eat in silence. It’s a nice contrast, Matteo thinks, because so far, they have always been interrupted by one of her friends. And they were nice, they chatted and laughed with him, but he’d rather sit in silence with Luna alone than to engage in meaningless small talk with her friends.

“So, you haven’t answered my question yet.”

The first spoon with chocolate pudding just went into her mouth, and she looks at him out of wide, beautiful eyes. “Huh?”

“I asked you if you lied to me when you said you didn’t do commissions.”

“Oh.” Another spoon of pudding. She’s still staring at him, half lost in thought again. He wonders if she’d let him get away with stealing a taste of her dessert. (Or of her lips.) “Well, I didn’t lie. I used to make a few back in high school. But I’ve only drawn for fun since I started uni.”

“Then I’m glad you made that exception for me.”

“You mean for your mom?”

“Yeah.”

///

She’s biting her lip again. She always does when she’s thinking about which part to paint next, and in those moments, Matteo has to remind himself that he should appear interested in what she’s doing, and not in her. Perhaps she believes he actually wants to learn about the right paper, or proper colors, but mostly he wants to learn about her. About the dimples in her cheek when she laughs, and the sensation of her fingertips on his skin. One time she forgot her hair tie, so some strands of her opened curls kept falling into her face, like a frame to a masterpiece, and in that moment, he wished he knew how to pin her beauty down on paper.

“Do you draw people too?”

“Is that your way of asking if I would draw you?” She doesn’t even look up from her canvas, just frowns at it as she dips her brush into her mixed shade of light blue again.

Matteo huffs, robbing an inch closer to her with his chair while he scans her face for a reaction. “Is that your way of telling me you thought about drawing me? Because I was just curious, to be honest.”  And if, in fact, she did want to stare at him for hours to get the most delicate lines of his smile right, he’d be the last person to object.

No reply. The movements of her brush are the only sound in the living room. By now Matteo finds a rhythm in those movements, a melody he misses when she’s gone, sometimes.

Luna sighs. The brush pauses in its dance over the canvas. “Your curls would be a nightmare to sketch.”

“Wow, thanks. What have I done for you to be in such a good mood today?” (So far, she barely smiled at him, and he longs for a fraction of her focus.)

For the first time this afternoon, she turns away from her painting and gives him her full attention. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I like your hair.”

“You do?”

Her eyes pin down the paper on the table. “Yeah. I mean, the curls suit you, and they look super soft somehow. But I couldn’t do them justice on paper.”

Luckily, she already focuses on her painting again before he can’t contain the smile on his lips.

///

He thinks of her constantly. Not as much when he has a task to focus on, or when he’s with his friends or classmates. His imagination waits for him to be alone, when he stands in the middle of the supermarket aisle and can’t decide on what kind of pasta to buy, when his thoughts stray away from the lecture he’s supposed to follow. As soon as he’s alone with his mind, she’s everywhere.

Right now, Matteo walks home from the bus stop down the street and plays through a conversation where she admits she likes him just as much. Then, he makes up a scene where he catches her drawing him. As he opens the door to the apartment building and fumbles with the key for his mailbox, the Luna from his imagination is blushing wildly while he tells her how wonderful exactly he thinks she is.

There’s a yellow envelope in his mailbox. Bright yellow, the color of sunflowers in August, and no post stamp. It surprises him enough to shush every thought of Luna, at least for a moment. As he takes the stairs, he reads his name written in neat, cursive letters again and again, as if they’d reveal their secret like that. Finally, he glances at the back of the envelope, to discover Luna’s signature.

His feet freeze on the spot.

She sent him something, and it’s definitely not his mom’s birthday gift. They had lunch together yesterday, and she didn’t mention anything that could explain why she left an envelope in his mailbox. He has no idea what it hides, and now his heart is beating against his chest as he takes two steps at a time.

///

It’s a sketch. Of him.

There’s no note attached, not even a date. Just his face on an otherwise blank sheet. The smile she drew radiates the same feeling he gets in his stomach every time she laughs, and she added a sparkle to his eyes he never found in them himself. He wonders how she managed to make his curls look like they’re about to bounce out of the paper, and how long she studied him without him noticing. The mere idea heats his chest up.

If this is how Luna sees him, he might be the luckiest guy in this world.

///

Matteo thanks her for this drawing five times, and one more time as she walks through his door two days later. A smile graces her lips, and her hug surrounds him with her scent that never quite seems like perfume.

“How are you?” she asks, spreading brushes on the living room table.

“Fine. And you?” Do you randomly draw your friends all the time? Or is there the tiniest chance I’m more than just a weird guy who pays you for drawing a picture in front of him?

Those questions don’t leave his mouth. Instead, Matteo sits down next to her and listens to her explanations on drawing open water. Meanwhile, he imagines taking her to his parents’ beach house in Italy.

“So, I think I could be finished with this next week. When was your mom’s birthday again?”

In the last moment, he holds back the sigh that tries to slip over his lips. “In two weeks.” In two weeks, this will be over. Luna will draw at her desk at her home, and exams will be inching too close to waste a full hour with him in the cafeteria. The semester is coming to an end, merciless in its rush of time, and he still has no idea how he’s going to see her again.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Yellow,” Luna replies. “And yours?”

Matteo twirls his spoon in the coffee cup. (She almost dipped her brush into it three times today.) “Blue. Mixed with yellow, it’d be green, right?”

She rewards him with a smile along with her nod. “Yeah.” While she goes on about green and turquoise and color names he never heard of before, his gaze gets lost on her, dragging his thoughts along to the moon. The delicate skin around her eyes wrinkles because she’s smiling so much. Between teal and seaweed green, he stumbles upon the realization of how bright and clear her iris is. Like a gem stone carved out of the earth, polished just so the light could bring his miniature reflection in them alive.

“Like your eyes”, he mumbles, not fully aware his mouth turned his thoughts into words for her to hear.

Luna pauses. “What?”

Matteo clears his throat. “They’re super green.” Quieter, he adds, “And they’re beautiful.”

“Thanks.” Nothing more than a whisper, but her blushing cheeks say enough.

///

The week passes too quickly. He can’t afford to daydream during classes yet curses himself for letting time run out of his hands. Friday night brings him dreams of her, and he shrieks up an hour before his alarm clock. His mind is a Ferris wheel, high and low, Luna and his finals take turns riding it up to the moment she finally rings his door.

For the first time since they met, she’s wearing a dress. Mentally, he congratulates himself for changing into jeans and a decent shirt a few minutes ago, while he also has to fight the urge to stare at her for too long. He’s almost afraid of embracing her during their hug.

“That dress looks amazing,” he says. She hugs him tighter.

///

“I’m gonna miss you sitting here.”

Luna is almost finished, the last strokes of the brush, the last corrections and soon, she’ll scribble her signature into the corner. He doesn’t want her to leave, he doesn’t want to say goodbye to her after handing her the money he still owes her, and he doesn’t want to admit to himself that he screwed this up. It’s a desperate statement he lets slip out in resignation, and it’s of little comfort that his voice doesn’t tremble.

A hesitant smile sits on her lips as she glances at him. “I’m gonna miss you too.” Her honesty catches him off guard, allows him to hope, to search for right way to ask her out, but before he gathers a single word, she clears her throat. “It’s gonna be weird not having you watch me anymore. I mean, not that I’ll have time to draw during finals.”

Matteo silently nods. Inside, everything screams at him to take a chance before the paint dries and the ending can’t be changed anymore. “What’s the weirdest thing for you about drawing?”

A few seconds pass before she answers. Their knees bump into each other under the table, and he apologizes without meaning it one bit.

“Sometimes, when I look at people, I don’t really see them because I start to think about how I’d draw them. It’s like… picking them apart into single shades. Circles and squares and all that.”

His eyes dart towards the window, to buildings hiding the clear blue sky. He holds the air in his lungs, thinks twice, then jumps into the cold water. “Is that what you did too when you drew me?”

“Kinda.”

Silence. He catches her gaze. His breath hitches. “Drawing you was… different.”

“How so?” He knows they’re tip-toeing around each other, round and round, closer to a moment that’ll inevitably change something. Maybe even them. Hopefully.

“I’m not sure I can explain it.”

He doesn’t ask a second time.

///

The last brush is clean, the sketchbook back in her bag. He watches her as she puts on her shoes, heart racing in his chest. The clock next to the wardrobe ticks mercilessly, he can count along when Luna faces him, and they stare at each other out of words. Out of time.

“Thank you.”

She smiles. “Thank you too. I hope your mom will like it.”

“I’m sure she will.”

Her arms around his neck, one last time. Her scent in his nose, her curls falling into her face as they break apart. She hasn’t even left, and he already misses her.

“So, I guess I’m gonna go home now.” Her hand lingers on the doorknob.

“Good luck for studying,” he replies. The door opens. Ask her, say it, keep her here, if only for a second. With one step, she’s in the hallway. Turns around, grimaces. “Bye, then.”

His voice sounds hoarse. “Bye.”

The door closes. He let her go, he didn’t do any of the things he’s been dreaming, hoping for, and he’s the only one to blame. Matteo sighs, closes his eyes, curses.

The doorbell rings. With a frown on his forehead, he opens.

“Luna?”

“I forgot my bag.”

He steps away, and she hushes inside. “I’m sorry, sometimes I don’t know where my head is,” she says. Rambles. Her cheeks have turned into a soft pink. “Anyway, I’m gonna leave you alone now. Greet Gastón from me, okay?”

“Wait.” A plea, crossing his lips at the speed of light. Suddenly, Matteo feels afraid and brave at once, hesitant and determined. If this is his last chance, he won’t waste it. “Can I see you again?”

///

He still searches for her traces when she leaves. They’re not scattered around his apartment anymore, though, they’re all over his skin. A soft kiss, a delicate touch. Sometimes, a hint of paint when he got a little too impatient. Once, between his bedsheets, she whispers that he could be her new canvas. Matteo presses his lips on her temple and prays that she’ll never be done with him.

[sandersdelinquents]

How did Emile and Pat become part of the delinquents? They seem like they where once like Logan. Actually... Can we just get a fic on how they all became friends before Logan?

Someone who gets the reference

Focus: Patton and Emile, middle school

Warnings: bullying, fatphobic comments, slight mention of strict parents

–

There are certain things that Patton knows. He knows his moms love each other and they love him. He knows that ice cream tastes best at midnight when he’s given a sneaky spoonful from one of his moms. He knows that sometimes dogs get scared and then do scary things in return. He knows that people can be good, but that people can also be bad.

Learning that last lesson had been difficult yet easy to understand. It’s not that he didn’t think people could be mean, but it surprised him how mean people could be. He never thought before his size would be something worth teasing over, he never thought having a belly would be something to hide. He had always been stocky, a little taller and a little thicker than most his age. He didn’t think it would be something to be ashamed of, but some kids did and they made fun of him for it.

Insecurity grew like thorns and no matter how many times his parents assured him that big bellies are beautiful, it still hurt, and he still crossed his arms over his stomach whenever the subject of being ‘fat’ came up. He didn’t like being made fun of for being bigger. It’s just how he grew and he didn’t know how to change that. He liked eating and he liked what exercise he did do. His mom would say he’s too young to be worrying about things like diets or slim treatments. The kids at school would say otherwise.

Patton isn’t stupid. He can hear his mom’s whisper when they think he’s gone to sleep, talking about how his school is full of bad kids with parents who forgot how to raise a child. So Patton tries to be nice, giving them all the benefit of the doubt, that maybe their home lives are sad and they take it out on him. It’s hard to believe some days, especially when they pick on him, but he tries.

He’s not the only one some of the kids pick on. His eyes glance to Emile now, doodling in a notebook, and looking very uncomfortable as Brandon and his rude friends surround his desk.

“What are you drawing? It looks stupid,” Brandon says looking proud at getting his friends to laugh from the insult. Patton swallows a lump in his throat. He and Emile haven’t really talked, sure maybe for an assignment or a trade but they weren’t friends. Emile doesn’t have any friends. Patton knows that feeling well.

“It’s from a TV show,” Emile says softly, trying to be friendly. Emile had always been that weird kid, always spouting out random things that had no correlation to anything. Patton could see the way he would light up when he tried to explain something, a connection he made to a cartoon or something, only to watch as that light died as he was shut down and told to shut up. No one liked listening to Emile talk about cartoons, it was all he talked about. Patton wonders not for the first time if Emile does anything else.

“Some stupid cartoon? Cartoons are for babies,” Brandon continues, sneering down and ripping Emile’s notebook from his desk. Patton cringes as Emile whimpers, not doing anything to get his book back.

“What are these?” Jason asks with disgust, taking the book from Brandon and pointing to a page. Patton can’t see.

“It’s symbols from a show, where four nation of elements live together in harmony,” Emile says softly, twisting his shirt in his hands.

“Everything changed when the fire nation attacked,” Patton mumbles to himself. He’s seen a few episodes of that show when his moms allow him to have TV before dinner. He keeps looking at his desk, only looking up when he realizes the conversation he had been eavesdropping on has abruptly ended. He peeks up to see Emile staring at him with what Patton can only describe as stars in his eyes.

“Have you seen it?!” Emile jumps from his seat, not caring for Brandon or his friends. He slides into the open seat next to Patton and beams at him.

“I’ve- I’ve seen a few episodes but not! Not a lot!” Patton finds his words and a smile makes it’s way onto his face. Emile practically squeals.

“Have you seen the first one? Where he pops out of the ice ball like pew!” Emile mimics the noise and Patton can’t help but giggle and nod his head.

“I like when she was trying to control her powers and accidentally soaked her brother,” Patton says what he does remember of that episode, continuing to talk to Emile as much as he can regardless of who is listening and judging. He’s never talked this long to someone without being insulted. He lets Emile ramble and go on until class is started and Emile is back in his seat, bouncing happily and giving Patton a million watt smile whenever he gets the chance. Patton returns it full force.

“And have you seen the uncle? He’s so smart and kind and I think he’s my favorite,” Emile immediately latches onto him at the end of class, eager to keep talking about the cartoon. Patton doesn’t mind, he rather likes listening to Emile talk and talk, and he certainly doesn’t mind being latched on to. Literally, Emile grabbed his arm with both hands and would not let go unless he decided to gesture wildly. It feels kind of nice to be wanted around.

“Look at these losers,” However the happy feeling is short lived as they walk towards the cafeteria for lunch, fun ramblings cut off by a rude comment. Patton and Emile turn around to Brandon coming closer to them with an evil smile on his face. Whether he does it consciously or not, when Emile pulls and hides behind Patton, Patton stands a little taller.

“Talking about some stupid cartoon. Cartoons are stupid, and so are you,” He teases. Emile makes a pained noise, grip on Patton’s arm getting tighter. Patton looks down at him, the sad look on his face, and something snaps. Every time someone has picked on him, Patton has ducked his head, made himself smaller, waited for the teasing to end. He’s always tried to be nice, but right now seeing Emile on the verge of tears, Patton wants to be mean.

“Shut up Brandon!” Patton’s voice is loud, turning heads and even making a few people stop. He twists his face up in a glare as Brandon stares back at him, shocked and confused to Patton’s words.

“What did you just say?” Brandon asks, as if giving Patton the chance to change what he said. Patton puffs up, standing at his full height, which may not be much, but at least more than Brandon has. He pulls Emile farther behind him and offers him protection.

“I said! Shut! Up! You’re a jerk!” He screams. Pent up anger and hurt makes itself known. He’s so sick of being picked on, and he’s so sick of others being picked on. He can’t stand it any more.

“Stop teasing me and stop teasing my friend!” He continues to shout. Brandon tries to act tough, getting closer and ready to say something mean and stupid back, but Patton doesn’t let him. He uses his size to his advantage for once and pushes Brandon back, letting him stumble and fall to the ground.

“Hey!” Jason says as he helps Brandon to his feet but it doesn’t matter. Other kids are laughing at the sight and the group walks away having been on the receiving end of teasing. Patton nabs Emile’s hand and pulls him along, instead of going to lunch, he leads them to the school library.

It’s a small place, a couple winding shelves with bright colored books and funky chairs for people to sit in. The librarian greets them but Patton doesn’t stop and drags them both to the far corner of the room. No one stops them and no one goes looking for them. He drops to the corner, a small spot where two bookshelves don’t quiet meet, making space for kids to squeeze in and hide.

Emile cuddles in next to him without a word.

It takes a moment, the bell rings overheard signalling the start of an another class and lunch period officially starting, for Patton to break down. It starts with a sniff then he buries his head in his knees. He’s not sure why he’s crying but he’s feeling a lot. He feels a little better when he feels Emile lean on him comfortingly.

“I’m sorry,” Patton whimpers out, rubbing his eyes to dry his face. He’s not sure why he’s apologizing but he feels like he should. Emile doesn’t say anything. They sit in silence for a bit longer, cuddled up in the corner, letting Patton’s emotions calm down.

“Did you mean what you said? About us being friends?” Emile asks, wiggling so their arms are linked. Patton nods his head not wanting to talk just yet. He’s never had someone to talk to as much as Emile did. No one’s been that nice to him at school in a long time. Emile just shifts closer.

They stay there all throughout lunch period and walk to class until their paths diverge. Emile makes him pinky promise to meet him after class and Patton takes that oath seriously. He ignores the others kids when the whisper about what happened in the hallway and lets Brandon boast about how he’s not scared. He flinches though when Patton glares at him.

Patton holds Emile’s hand until his parents come to pick him up, barking at him to get in the car quick and then speeding off. Patton twists up his nose at that, not sure why but seeing Emile with a sad look on his face when he’s going home doesn’t sit right. It’s a thought for another day as his moms pull up and he clambers into the car.

“How was school sweetie?” Mom asks him. Patton kicks his feet back and forth.

“I made a friend today,” He says softly but there’s a bright smile on his face.

“This calls for celebration!” His mother says proudly. Patton giggles at her and is more than happy to pick out his favorite pizza toppings when they get home. He turns on the TV when allowed and finds himself more giddy seeing that TV show Emile liked playing. He absorbs as much of it as he can, planning to talk to Emile about it tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and every day after that.

–

Is there something you’re curious about? Don’t hesitate to send in an ask and find out~ Any questions about the boys and their lives will be answered with fic!

–

Tag list:

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[itskateak]

LET’S TALK ABOUT MY HISTORY TEACHER

(Who is currently on administrative leave and is awaiting trial with the school district)

(TW: Abuse, animal abuse, police brutality, racism, implied (but wrongly) terrorism, politics, anxiety, panic attack mention, violence, religious entitlement. Please let me know if there are more.)

He is....so many things. Rude, self-entitled, racist, and disrespectful, to name a few. So, here’s the things he’s done.

• Banned Metal water bottles because someone accidentally made a noise with one, once. It wasn’t even that loud, nor long. Just a slight clink as they put the lid on.

• Told a story about a storm in Mecca (2015) that knocked over a crane onto a Mosque and it killed 107 people. Injured 238. This happened to occur on 9/11. He told us the story the day after 9/11 this year (2018) and ended it with “Weird, right?” and a sly smile.

• Told us multiple times to write in the textbooks, which is basically vandalism. Previous markings in the book show it isn’t the first time he’s asked this of students. I always refused.

• “Freedom of press, right? Except the press are in the pockets of the democrats.” A direct quote from him (I had begun writing down these types of things as they happened to give to the principal. This stuff happened daily).

• He once planned to show us a video of the Chinese police beating a man in the streets, despite all of us protesting verbally and profusely. He forgot, and didn’t show it, but to think he would’ve.

• He showed us a video of monkies domesticating puppies, which inevitably included animal abuse. Although it is just nature doing its thing and it isn’t a human abusing an animal, he should’ve given a warning so that us animal lovers could step out of the room. I felt sick afterwards.

• I was afraid of asking to leave class while having a panic attack because I thought he would tell me to sit down and not let me go. I had planned to just walk out - the counselor told me I could do that - but he did let me go without asking any questions.

• We watched a video about online privacy and how google created a separate search engine for the Chinese government. He slandered the company and said that they’re awful and guilty for supporting a dictatorship like that. While it isn’t a good thing to do what they did, yes, I don’t think he should’ve thrown his political views in like that.

• In that same topic, he mentioned one of the creators of the video was a Democrat who voted for Hillary. I found this comment odd, and called him out on it and asked what that had to do anything. His response ran something like this: “Well, it’s usually something liberals are concerned about and I think all parties and everyone should be concerned about.” That didn’t answer my question, nor did it come close to explaining why that guy’s political part and who he voted for had any reason to be included in the discussion.

• I doodle in class sometimes to help stay focused. I always have, and it’s always a good tactic. Especially when watching videos or listening to lectures. I draw circles, boxes, swirls, etc. Just mindless things. Well, one day, I’m drawing on a paper that happens to have a larger drawing on it. It’s in a different pen color than what I’m currently using, so it’s obvious I’m not drawing that. I have my notes page right next to me, and I’ve taken three or four notes already. He tells me to stop doodling at least three times - other kids are sleeping, or not doing anything - and every time I try to explain, he walks away. I approached him after class and explained, and he told me that I got a good grade on my last test, so he can’t exactly tell me I can’t draw in his class, but it better not affect my grade. I said it helps me to focus better. He responds along the lines of: “I mean, if you believe that lie about how your brain works, then I can’t stop you. But that’s not true.” I responded : “I think I know how my brain works, since I’ve been doing this since third grade and it hasn’t negatively impacted me yet.” And then I walked out of the classroom.

• He dictated how we did notes. No full sentences, only use the word “the” when absolutely necessary, no more than half a page, etc. It was ridiculous. I gave one sentence summaries of the two paragraphs in each eight sections. That was eight sentences. He told me it was too long, and that I shouldn’t be writing full sentences. I told him my brain doesn’t work that way, and it won’t help me if it isn’t in a full sentence. We argued, and I walked out of the classroom to go to my next class. We also turned in our notes each class, and didn’t get them back until after the relevant test.

• He once limited everyone to three bullet points per reading section (usually two or three pages). Everyone blamed me since he pointedly looked at me when saying “some people write full sentences and a full page.” To say I was popular in that class is a very wrong statement. Every time he would mention anything wrong that we’ve done with notes, everyone would turn to me. Thanks.

• I once wrote half of my notes on the Japanese in Japanese, and I got extra credit. I did it out of spite, but hey. Worth it. I also wrote incredibly long and complicated headers to spite him.

• We re-enacted the Trial Of Socrates, and as the attorneys, we spent time in the library researching. We had to write opening and closing statements, and a script for our witnesses to follow with our questions and their answers. At the trial, they were not allowed to have the script with them. Somehow we won, as prosecution, but it was still difficult since the witnesses had not done any of the studying of their roles at all, even though we insisted they should. So not only did we have to research the entire case itself, write an opening and closing statement, we had to research our three witness and write scripts they couldn’t use AND research the opposing team’s four witnesses (one being Socrates) and write counter arguments and cross examination questions. In a week.

• A kid once came in really late to class. He came in quietly, apologized for interrupting, and gave our teacher his pass. He went to sat down, and the teacher told him what page we were on. While pulling the textbook out from the metal cradle under the desk, it snagged and made a ringing noise. The kid, realizing quickly what it was, silenced it and apologized again. Our teacher kicked him out of class for “interrupting”, not allowing him to take the textbook. He missed the entire class.

• He has a quote on the board one day and we had to explain if we agreed or disagreed with it. (“I would rather entrust our government to the first 400 people in the Boston telephone directory than the entire faculty at Harvard.”) I disagreed, naturally, and one of my friends explained most of my points. When asked to tell my side, I did say that she had said my main reasons. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but he looked me dead in the eye, and in front of everyone in the room asked: “So, you don’t care that they’re a bunch of liberal, champagne drinking jerks?” I was shocked, to be very honest. I kept my expression and voice even, and never broke eye contact. I responded: “If they do their job right, then no. I do not care, as long as they do their job and do it well.”

• Has spoken in ways that put his religion and beliefs above others. Comments like “When God made the world” and such were sometimes thrown in.

• Mispronounced multiple Greek Gods’ and Goddesses’ names. Such as Nike (uh-knee-kay), and Zeus (Zay-oos). I corrected him each time and each time he glared at me.

• He once tried to inform us that the reason Indian music sounded so strange was because they used the half-step intervals that we don’t have. I literally laughed so hard he paused the video and asked me why I was laughing. I had to explain chromatics to him. “We have them, we just don’t use them as abundantly or frequently in every song. It’s normal in Indian music to hear that.” He was still skeptical, even after I told him I’ve studied music theory in passing and have been in music classes for five years, and can read two clefs and can play two instruments.

• And now the finale, which got him suspended. This was not in my class, but this is what we were told happened. He held up a picture of a monkey and pointed to the only black kid in the class (we have very few in the school anyways) and said,”Look! It’s your ancestor!”

He will not be back to finish out this semester, and it doesn’t look good for him to come back next semester, if at all. I wrote all of these down with dates and my dad went to the principal with the list. If he does return next semester, it has been made abundantly clear that I am not to be in his class.

[ethereal-tempest]

All the Stars (BP College AU) Pt. 4

A/N: And from the shadows i crawled out and posted this long awaited continuation of ATS , which could quite possibly be trash but I do hope you like it! DM or inbox me if you would like to be tagged in the parts to follow. Also I will have some news about my life in general and the posting of future fics coming towards the end of the month so be on the look out for that! and as always sorry for any mistakes!

WC: Like 1,500+

T’challa x reader

Warning: language. but you already knew that.

Prompt: Love is complicated and confusing, it can be the most blissful feeling in the world. Or it can the reason your heart crumbles and shatters. Which will it be for you?

“...do the feeling haunt you?”

You and Ayo spent the rest of the day binge watching you favorite TV show greys anatomy for the 100th since you wouldn't have much free time once school started up. Eventually she went back to her apartment and you were once again by yourself but you pushed the sadness and loneliness away taking the time to think of ways you’d be able to start fresh and focus on school. No boy drama, none of that lovey dovey clouding your reasoning or work ethic. You may have a fling or two on the side but they were strictly that and nothing more, it would be you and your degree this time.

You woke up around 6:30am and began getting ready for your first day, deciding to dress up a bit or at least look like an actual human since the rest of the year you would look like a total zombie. Not to mention your plans for after class.

By the time you finished getting dress and doing your make up it was already 7:30 and time for you to start heading to class, it was only a 10 minute walk from your dorm but to be on the safe side it would probably be best to leave now.

And of course, your stroll to class was nothing short of hellish.

 Apparently everyone had the genius idea to try and get to class early and bombarded the sidewalks with large crowds making it hard for you to maneuver through. 

Thankfully the crowed thinned our as your rounded the corner entering the building for your 8 class at 7:50, you sat down in your seat 5 minutes before class was supposed to start and released a sigh of relief. You took out your notebook and laptop and doodle on your paper for a bit before class started. You glanced up as the clock hit 8 find it odd that you had not seen your professor or any familiar faces yet but realized some students were still filing in.

 “Is this seat taken?” “No I--” The familiarity of the voice made you still but it was when you looked into his face that you were truly froze, “Uh-Um n-no it’s not.” You said to T’challa as he sat down, hell you figured you’d have to talk to the man eventually seeing as that he appeared to be popping up everywhere you went but having a class with the him was more than you expected. 

“You look good, great actually.” you let out a nervous laugh, subconsciously thanking yourself for deciding to look nice for once and mumbled out, “Thank you.” He nodded his head as he took out his notebook, just as he was about to say something else your professor walked in at 8:15, “Good morning class, excuse my tardiness seeing as though i’m not a morning person you can expect me to be a few minutes late, attendance is required here and i don’t allow tardiness often so as long as you’re here before me we should have a problem. Now everyone grab a syllabus and lets begin.”

Your professor, Dr. Ginny Lawson had to be the sweeties woman you’d ever had the pleasure of learning from she taught literature but her class was always less of a class and more of an experience, you sat in a few times during your junior year and knew you had to learn from her. “Alright everyone, now for your first assignment you will be doing a research paper on the difference is the romanization of old literature to that of now literature. 12 page minimum.” the whole class groaned and seem to sank as she spoke but all perched back up with hopeful ears as she said, “Since this is the first assignment of the year i will be merciful, you’ll all have a partner. Turn to the other person at your table and say hello, you two will be spending lots of time together.” Your eyes widened as you looked at your professor, the tables were set up with two people seated at each and of fucking course T’Challa was at yours, why couldn’t you have just been the bitter and ruthless ex and tell him he couldn’t sit? “Take a few minutes and get to know each other, exchange information so you can later meet up and decide a plan to conquer  this assignment. I want papers on my desk by next Wednesday. Whenever you’re finish your free to leave.”

This was it, you managed to avoid much talk with the man all class but now you had to talk with him. “So—“ “I’ll ask her if she can switch partners.” He said before you could get a full sentence out, you just stared at the man uncertain of what to say, 

“I know this is awkward enough by us just being in the same class.” he said as he stood and moved towards your professor, you were too shocked to say anything as he walked away, had you treated the man that badly? Not like he didn’t cheat on you. Thought your inner voice but something in you still held out hope that he didn’t and it was that part of you that caused you to call out his name. 

A name that dropped so easily from your lips and sounded like music to his ears, a name you honestly thought would never having meaning to your life again but felt so right as you said it. “I-Its fine T’challa. It’s not that big of a deal right?” you noticed the bit of strife the man held in his eyes about the situation knowing it still ate at you, but you dismissed it all as you lightly touched his forearm before pulling back and give him small smile. “You still have my number? Send me a text later today with your schedule and i’ll do the same.”

The rest of the day was spent going to different classes and listening to your teachers speed through their syllabus, thankfully you managed to continue to be a hard working student in the past three years which would allow you to have a fairly manageable last year. 

You finished you last class around 3 and checked your phone seeing a text from Shuri. Still on for coffee? you had almost forgot as your replied back, Of course, is now good? a reply came through instantly Sure is. you chuckled and typed it a reply, Meet me ‘Heart-shaped Cafe’ after getting her confirmation text you head to the cafe yourself.

“Shuri over here.” you said as you waved her down to the table you sat at, “This cafe is amazing.” said Shuri as she looked around still gazing at the small yet beautiful building. “I know they changed it a bit since the last time i was here, it used to be my favorite spot on campus.” “why’d you stop coming?” She asked with a curious look in her eyes, “Me and your brother used to come here together, It was the first place we went on an actually date when we got here.” 

You smiled thinking back on the memory, while a sigh left your lips, you looked up at shuri who held a sad smile on her face as well, “Sorry for the bad memories.” you shook you head as the waiter began walking towards you to take your order, “They are far from bad, matter of fact I wouldn’t change them for anything.”

Your orders were brought out quickly and your and Shuri laughed and caught up on each other’s lives over the past 3 years.

“So about this man that had the audacity to cheat on a queen such as yourself, what’s his name?” you thought for a moment, Shuri must’ve had no idea that her brother had been the one to do it first but that was further in the past than you wanted to go with her, “Erik Killmonger, one of the hottest men on campus and now one of the dochuest.” 

Shuri squinted her eyes as she placed her hand in her chin, “That name sounds so familiar.” “He is the captain of the basketball team, plus if you do go here you’ll hear just about every other woman talking about wanting to bone him.” “I think he’s trying to become the new chapter leader of the beta rho beta.” “How’d you know that?” 

Jesus the girl was more in on what was going on in your college but it’s not like you’d been going there for three years. “T’challa was telling me some prick was trying to challenge him for it.” a small smile raised to your face, “So he finally beat M’baku? That’s good, i know it was important for him to follow in your father footsteps from when he went here.” Shuri gasped as she said, “You remember that?” you scoff as you finish your coffee and say, “Of course! It was one of the things on his list of ‘must do’s’.” 

You chuckled before continue on and saying, “He even said once that he’d stay in college an extra year so long as it meant he became the head of the frat one day.” You stayed in your reminiscent state for a bit longer before coming back to reality and noticing Shuris watchful eyes. “You know he misses you.” 

You shake your head in disbelief and sigh, “I doubt it, i mean he’s the king of the campus, he can have any woman he wants. He didn’t want me then so why would he want me now?”

Poor, Poor Y/N has no clue, more went down that dreadful day three years ago. I wonder when it will all come to the light? Once again thank you all so much for reading and shoot me a DM if you would like to be tagged!

TAGS: @marvelhaven @artistic22dragon @fandamad @vanessa-monique @nostalgic-uncertainty @potatopoop09 @akimi-youngblood @elaindeereadslexeeehhh @sprinkleofpoop @wakandab @aieyr @sadpimpcess @who-wants-toknow @angeli-fucking-cat @destinio1 @yourwonderbelle @a1iahwitchybabe805 @mysweetestkiss @fallenangelfangirl@watch-out-for-thorns @wakanda-sometimesitssammyjay @rishlo @greenswishbish (if your URL is bolded it wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :(. )

[shadowsfiguresfigments-blog]

A good place to die Chapter 15

warning: harsh language, violence

Chapter 15

He had watched her for hours now. Her small frame was cuddled against him, her chest moving ever so slightly with her relaxed breathing. She had murmured some unintelligible stuff from time to time, but never woken up. Penny had let his gaze wander through the small room, studying the objects around him. There weren’t many things there – a desk with the textbooks she had read to him, a shelf with other books, a big closet and a tiny table with drawers and a big mirror. Several bottles stood on that desk, emitting strange scents. The costume she had worn hung over a chair in front of that table, shimmering in the pale moonlight coming from the window. The thought of her dressing like him still brought a surprisingly pleasant smile to his face.

Despite the many years he had haunted this place, he had rarely been within a human home, and certainly never took particular interest in their everyday things. But now he found himself curious about the furniture. The girl had taught him much more about humans in the short period he spent with her, but there were still so many things he found incomprehensible. Why did the humans feel the constant need to change their clothing to different things? Why did they think that painting their faces would make them more attractive? He certainly never had problems to attract his prey, though his methods were not for pathetic mortal beings. Though it had been amusing to watch the girl trying to look like him, and it was very entertaining when she wiped it off – the paint came off in parts and pieces, leaving her face looking like a puzzle every time she removed those white clothes from her face.

His eyes fell upon the small rectangular thing on the night table. It dangled from a wire and blinked from time to time. It didn’t resemble anything he had seen the last time he was awake, but now people took them everywhere. In fact they spent most of their free time staring at those boxes, sometimes talking to them. He knew it was a communication thing, but why didn’t humans talk to each other when they were in each other’s company?

Musing about the curiosity of human behavior, his thoughts wandered back to the last times he had been awake. Those pesky kids had very nearly ended his existence – twice. The experience had changed him, though he didn’t quite know how. Especially that redhead female had bothered him. Without her the boys would very likely had ended up as another delicious meal. Yet he still lay next to a human girl, listening to the sounds of her peaceful sleep and feeling oddly comfortable.

Whatever she had done to him certainly held a lot of new experiences. He was no longer afraid of the girl, despite her lack of fear - after all it was clear she had no intention of harming him. Penny actually found the time with her enjoyable, discovering all the weird bits about what she called “everyday life”. But it wasn’t only about the new things he learned after all the time he had lived (sort of) among humans. She was his, that much was clear. Though he still didn’t quite want to admit it, just thinking of what had been done to her filled him with a very new kind of rage. He wanted to obliterate the filthy mongrels who had dared to hurt her, tearing them apart as slowly as possible for a maximum of pain.

And then there was this whole affection thing – the kissing, that had felt… nice, and then the sex.

It had reminded him of how hungry he was. After all, he still hadn’t had a proper meal.  Hunger had filled him as she moved with him, and when he bit down on her, for the first time, she tasted amazingly. Her blood had not been full of the exciting taste of fear; it had a taste different from anything he knew. Just thinking about it made him crave more, drool starting to pour down from his lips. His little girl was turning into a delicacy.

 I woke up very slowly, despite the annoyingly loud beeping of my alarm. I was warm, cuddled against something soft, and my body faintly ached in an unfamiliar way. After some other beeps I realized my nose was buried in some soft fabric, emitting the most delicious scent. I stirred, trying to press myself harder against the form next to me. A deep chuckle finally made me come to my senses, and I smiled sleepily.

“Morning, Penny”, I mumbled, slurring the words. I felt his hand on my hair, and opened my eyes. Penny was still lying next to me in the same position as when we had gone to bed, a faint smile on his lips. “Did you sleep at all?”

“I have rested”, he replied, still smiling, and started stroking my back.

My alarm kept beeping stubbornly, and I grudgingly had to admit I had to get going. Sitting up and crawling out of the blankets took all my willpower – I just wanted to cuddle with Penny.

Or maybe do a bit more.  

The memories of yesterday made me comfortably warm, and my heart started beating faster. I bowed down and kissed Penny, lingering on his lips as long as I could hold my breath.

“I need to go to school”, I told him, my voice thick with disappointment. That made him laugh, and he teasingly brought his lips close to my ear.

“I will be wai-ting”, he purred. “You will have to hurry, though. I am not patient.”

With goose bumps on my arms I nodded, not entirely trusting my vocal chords to produce something sensible. I kissed him again, then proceeded to hurry to the bathroom. I took a quick shower (reluctantly; I didn’t quite want to wash off Penny’s scent) and brushed my teeth as fast as I could. As I was working on my upper teeth, I suddenly realized just how different I looked.

It wasn’t just the new hair. I had definitely gained weight. Not too surprising, considering the fact that I had actually started eating food properly, nor did I mind the fact. I was still very thin, my hip bones and ribs clearly visible beneath my skin, but they didn’t protrude as far as last month. My skin looked less transparent, and there was the faintest rosy tinge on my cheeks. I let my hands slide over my body.

This was the body Penny had made love too.

I sighed a little. The fact that I just had sex with a being I still didn’t really understand (and that most likely was very dangerous) didn’t bother me very much. In fact, I was just happy, a sheepish smile on my face.

I’d probably have to buy new clothes, though.

 Penny had been gone by the time I returned to my room, leaving me somewhat disappointed. But by the time I straddled my bike, there wasn’t much left of that. I was very late for school, and I felt excitement rush through me as I enjoyed my first bike ride in ages. Derry whizzed past me, somehow less depressing than before, while the sun warmed my face. However, by the time I was sitting in the classroom, panting and wiping sweat from my brow, the exhilaration subsided. My legs and my pussy burned (and no longer in a pleasant way), and I was strangely anxious.

I had to admit I didn’t know how I would talk to Penny.

In a way, this emotional chaos was as new to me as to him; and for a second I wondered if my old zombie self wouldn’t be able to deal with this more easily. My cheeks burned from what I perceived as embarrassment, and my heart was set on trying out every rhythm that ever existed. Most annoying was my inability to keep still. I had to wrap my legs around the chair to keep them still, and I doodled on every paper in front of me. To be precise I had started acting like one of these foolish girls in those annoying teenage movies.

That thought brought me back to my senses, and I was able to concentrate on the lectures. Though it was still more than half a year before the finals would start, every teacher mentioned them at least once during their lessons, and it was enough to make us at least somewhat nervous. Even I felt the urge to study a bit more, despite the fact that Mr. Shanks had left me a comfortable future ahead. Since there was no longer any girl gang waiting for me after school I didn’t rush to much when the bell rang, and for the first time my bike greeted me without a sign of profanities. I still checked it for traces of manipulation, but I couldn’t find any. That was nice, but somehow also a little unsettling.

I kept thinking of Penny with all my might as I made my way to Neibolt Street, shooting glances at all sides to see if he would turn up. He was nowhere to be seen, but as soon as I leaned my bike against the rotten fence, the door of the house swung open. I felt the sheepish smile return to my face, and lightly skipped up the stairs leading into the darkness. The door closed behind me again, and two shining eyes appeared in front of me. I threw myself into his arms, all awkwardness forgotten for a second and sighed.

“Welcome back, little one”, he purred into my ear. My body reacted immediately with the familiar heat in my stomach, but my pussy decided to throw in her bit too – I was wet in an instant.

So much for no longer being embarrassed.

“Penny, I…”, I started, but my phone ringing interrupted me before I could even start gushing all over him. My ringtone sounded strangely distant, and completely out of place – as if a minstrel was growling.

Penny’s eyes changed to yellow in an instant.

“Shit, I forgot to turn it off…” I cursed under my breath while I fumbled for my phone to stop the annoying jingle. By the time I had wrestled it out of my bag the call had ended, and auntie had left me a message. Before I could even read it she called again.

Something was off.

“I’m sorry, Penny, that’s my aunt calling. I think something is wrong”, I explained, before I answered. Penny shot me dirty, yellow looks, but after a second I didn’t care anymore.

Bee was in hospital.

Apparently some kids had taken the trick-or-treating too far (as always). Bee had taken some sleeping pills, and hadn’t answered the door. The kids decided to trick her by throwing fireworks (the self-made kind) through the kitchen window and topped the disaster off by a Molotov cocktail. Bee didn’t wake up until the fire was already burning merrily, and she had fallen down the stairs in her panic. Fortunately some neighbors had alarmed both the police and the fire department, and they managed to get her out of there in time.

But it didn’t look to good either. She had one hell of a concussion, several fractures in her right leg and she had inhaled a lot of smoke. And her tiny, cozy house had gone up in flames. Apparently it had been built with some old, cheap and very inflammable materials, and the firefighters only could do so much.

Auntie had stayed with her, but Bee had to undergo surgery and was still pretty knocked out. Now auntie asked me to take over, because her shift would start soon, and Bee could most certainly use some support. I agreed, but my heart plummeted somewhere into my stomach – I worried for Bee, but I also couldn’t deny that I was disappointed about losing time with Penny.

He watched me throughout the entire call, his eyes growing increasingly more yellow, until they resembled glowing embers. When I reluctantly hung up his face had lost its shape almost completely. The eyes had shifted to the side as his jaw protruded, exhibiting a denture that would scare off any shark. Drool ran down his fangs, dropping into a quickly growing puddle. I extend my hand to touch him, but he snarled at me.

He snarled at me.

For the first time since I had met him I wasn’t sure if I really knew anything about him.

“Penny, I really want to spend my every moment with you, but Bee is very hurt. She needs my help now. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

That didn’t help much.

“Why don’t you just stay with me, if you wish for it that much?” His words came out so distorted I needed a second to process what he had just said. I reached for his hand (or his claws) once more, but he withdrew with a snarl, spraying spit in my face.

“It’s not that easy, Penny. I can still spend time with you later, but Bee needs me right now. She’s in pain and confused, and the police is probably going to question her pretty soon. And she has lost her home, together with all her legal documents.”

He growled again. “Why don’t I just kill the police, then?”

I stared at him, somewhat in shock, before I could muster a coherent answer. “But that would just make everything worse! They are trying to find the culprits, after all! And if they do, Bee might be able to get at least some money to start over.”

What was wrong with him? Normally he would just make some snarky remark about our weird and complicated life, but now he acted like a spoilt brat. A spoilt brat that had the power to shredder my body more effectively than any meat grinder.

Suddenly he lunged at me, smashing my body against the floor. Pain shot through me, especially in my upper body. (Don’t tell me my ribs just cracked again.)

“You care more about her than me”, he roared into my face, giving me an extra good look into his huge mouth.

I had enough. Despite the pain I reached out and grabbed his shoulders as hard as I could.

“That’s not true”, I screamed back. “Jeez, she and auntie are the only two people whom I trust, don’t you understand that?”

That stopped him dead. He stared at me for several seconds, then his face shrunk back slowly. An uncharacteristic new expression wandered across it.

He was hurt.

That expression shattered my anger in an instant. I didn’t understand what had just happened, but my heart ached heavily. He let go of me, turning around and slowly started walking away. I picked myself up and ran to him, clutching at his clothes to make him stop. He turned his face away from me, but I still saw the pain clearly on his face.

It finally clicked.

“Penny, I said Auntie and Bee are the only people I trust. As in human beings. You’re not exactly my species, right?” He slowed down a little, but still refused to look at me. I couldn’t quite believe that he, as a being that didn’t understand the simplest principles of friendship and compassion unless I (clumsily) explained them, would get so upset over semantics.

But then again, I just discovered the range of emotions myself, didn’t I?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. You very obviously mean a lot to me.” After all I had sex with you yesterday. Like, properly. For the first fucking time in my life. I took a deep breath, very conscious of the words I was going to speak next.

“I love you, Pennywise.”

[burningalight]

my binders/locker in grade school were stuffed with so much shit i couldnt find anything...always crumpled up papers, trash etc

chewed pencils/pens, broke them taking them apart in class, lost them, often didn’t have one, frequently borrowing them and forgetting to give them back to the point that certain people wouldn’t give me pencils

could comprehend reading i liked very well, but when we’d have reading groups with boring books id always be lost,  or when the teachers would have one on ones and have u read something short and ask questions after to assess ur reading level, they’d often have to tell me to read it again bc they knew how much i remembered didnt add up to my intelligence and reading speed 

moms college friend gave me an unoffical iq test and i did much worse than i know i shouldve on the reading portion bc she’d play a story and then ask me after to list every detail i could remember and i couldn’t remember anything. but when she played 10 numbers and asked me to say them out loud backwards i scored extremely high ?

couldnt do projects, would be in tears, last minute every time, parents mad bc i need a poster board RIGHT NOW ITS DUE TOMORROW . hated assigned reading, horrible at essays even when they helped us plan them. 

i remember my 7th grade social studies teacher assigning a paper, i wrote extremely detailed and well in the first paragraph or 2, and the following ones got shorter and shorter and were completely bullshit bc i got bored. she told me ‘really strong first paragraph.’ and gave me a B  

talk too got damn fast. customers constantly telling me to slow down bc they cant understand me

my mom always says she had to challenge me as a kid bc i would get bored and get in trouble. i was acting out bc i was understimulated, i happened to like learning (esp numbers and puzzles) bc smart so that’s what i could fixate on and felt stimulated by

lunch detention frequently in 8th grade in my first highschool class, algebra, bc i wouldnt do my homework, at one point he just stopped giving lunch detention for that bc i wouldnt do it. i hated that class bc the math was boring and i never paid attention but would somehow pull off a’s and b’s on tests so i ended up with a B. my first B, and i had brought that up from a D (told my mom it was almost a C, he gave a really hard test and we all did bad etc, when she had to sign a paper about my low grade) at the end of the year, during the exam i was so confused the whole time, it was my first highschool exam and i didn’t know ANYTHING. i ended up with a 92 from guessing, and a curve, and every one of my friends got at least a 93 or better and i felt so stupid bc i was supposed to be the best at math

i would take every highschool class in honors but not one english class bc it required more essays and summer reading and i knew i wouldnt do the reading and would cry over the essays

the only other class i didnt take honors was chemistry bc i knew the honors teacher had a lot of projects and i would be stressing over them. i ended up with an A in the standard chem class even tho i never finished any work in class and didnt do homework, but i was still the smartest in the class and did the best overall

lunch detention for forgetting to get papers signed like report cards. they weren’t even bad grades i just couldnt remember. one time i got actual detention for forging my moms signature bc i got lunch detention for several days straight bc i kept forgetting to get the paper signed 

often had permission slips waiting to be signed the day before the field trip, or told my mom it was picture day the day before or morning of. one time i totally forgot it was picture day and didnt dress up

acting out and not thinking ab the consequences, many referrals.. many more times that my teachers let me get away with acting out when someone else doing the same thing would’ve been punished. one time anna and i left in the middle of class to go with emma to the library, only emma had permission, and my teacher had anna and i do wall sits instead of going to the office. in gym in middle school i would never dress out. i hated the clothes and hated gym bc i was awkward and if we didnt dress out we had to copy pages out of the health textbook the entire time and i would barely write 2 paragraphs bc i was so bored and my hand hurt and he never did anything ab it. i wouldnt dress out at least twice per week if not more. told my mom I had a C bc he had it out for me but i was the problem

in elementary school if we didn’t come to gym day wearing the right shoes we had to go into the back and pick out a pair of sneakers that fit out of a box of shoes, and also borrow socks if necessary. i had to do this frequently bc i never remembered to wear the right shoes

i would extremely often forget my library books and have to sit on the couch waiting for everyone to pick out their books for half an hour

when we were even younger we’d have story time and you had to sit in the middle of the floor inside a big circle of chairs where everyone else was if you forgot your library books. i lost one at one point for months and my parents didnt just pay for it so i had to sit in the middle every time. we found the book on a shelf somewhere in the house 

my chorus teacher never liked me bc i talked too much and i always felt like the worst singer, not bc of my singing but bc she wasn’t ever nice to me

in 7th grade science we learned latin root words and every day we’d play a game where we all stood up and one by one he’d ask for a root and we’d give it. if you got it wrong on the first round you’d have to write it on a piece of paper x amount of times and turn it in. if you were the last person left you were allowed to sit on your desk for the rest of the year, during these games while everyone else had to stand up. i wanted so badly to sit on my desk, esp bc i was fidgety and couldnt stand still, but i would never study them bc i’d forget or not want to if i did remember, even tho i really wanted to know them and sit on my desk. that teacher had a huge soft spot for me and one day i just started sitting on my desk during those. everyone knew i was smart, and it was all the smart kids who got to sit on their desks, so no one questioned it. im not sure if he knew i wasnt supposed to and just let me, or didnt realize i hadnt won bc i was smart. 

hyperlexia? mom said i could practically read before i was taught. i’ve always obsessively air written, ie writing words out w my finger in the air, on my leg etc. 

esp during lectures i doodle excessively to the point that my papers margins have always been covered with random scribbly overlapped words, or song lyrics. the words are usually something someone in the class said. ive started keeping an extra sheet of paper just for scribbling when im taking notes or listening in class. when we finished end of year tests in school i would write down full lyrics to songs on my scrap paper so i wouldnt be so bored. my hand cramps up so much but it was better than staring or trying to sleep with the lights on 

doing things and forgetting to turn them in

hyperfixating on books to cope w boredom and social anxiety, at one point read one per day, i was definitely one of the most frequent people in the library 

‘ The way I see it is if I can get information into my mind, I can do a lot with it but getting it in there in the first place is the really difficult part.��� - not mine

none of my teachers ever told my mom any of this i dont think, bc i was the smartest and i always got good grades, most had a soft spot for me BUT COULDNT SEE I HAD ADHD like damn. one time my fourth grade teacher whom i liked a lot was mad at us and indirectly calling people out, and referred to the fact that some of us never stopped talking , then made direct eye contact with me and i felt rly embarrassed bc i didnt realize i did that until she mentioned it

i often had to move seats if i was near friends bc i wouldnt stop instigating talking

at big lots when i had to run the register i was so painfully bored , fidgety, had to sneak my phone soo much bc i was so bored. when i was on the floor i would put away the go backs very quickly and then take upon myself a project like going through the entire wall of individual drinks and pulling out all the expired ones, it was like 5 carts full. my manager put me in charge of organizing the entire makeup section and all the gross clearance makeup bc she knew id do it the best and fastest 

when bosses have me do inventory i can count the products super fast and efficiently, but then when they have me put them into a spreadsheet i stare at it for hours getting nothing done bc distracted and its boring. ammar told me if i’d just get off my phone i could get it done bc he’d been asking for it for weeks, i wasnt trying to ignore it 

when im trying to do something at work that needs more concentration, i want to cry with frustration whenever i hear the door chime and have to get up and help customers and break my focus

[fanatic-writers]

The List (Part One)

A/n: OH MY GOODNESS I AM SO SORRY! This ended up being very personal (tbh it should just be called Why G has anxiety) all italics are flashbacks. Also, this is written differently than the other fics I’ve written, so I hope you like it! -G

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of self-hate, anxiety, swearing?

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It was strange, going through her things without her there. He would've asked permission but he couldn't. She'd been gone for a month or so, and the god hated to admit it but he missed her, and he needed something to remind him of her. So he started going through some boxes in their shared closet. After finding an old report card, Loki figured that he was digging through the girls old school books. Pulling out a few notebooks he leafed through the pages of old writing. Stories she wrote as a child and something about a land for zebras to live happily. The god chuckled when he found an old photo of her on, what appeared to be, her first day of school. Her hands gripped the straps of her bag tightly, and she was giving the camera a large, toothy smile.

He continued to flip through the notebooks finding that the stories began to gain more depth and the writing became neater. He examined the girl's notes in history and the comments she made on her teacher.

“This unit would be so much better if we actually got to learn about mythology" he read “not like Mr. V would know shit about that either the only thing he knows about Vikings is the football team.”

Loki smiled again, he somehow always forgot that she enjoyed the bedtime stories told about him.

He continued to smile as he read on about the horrible Mr. V and how this man somehow made her hate history class more than math. Her hatred for her teacher became more apparent as there were fewer notes and more doodles covering the lined paper. His smile didn't fade until he flipped through a few empty pages finding one that was full among them.

“Things That Bother Me” he read. Her handwriting had matured again, and it was as if he was reading a poem she'd written him yesterday.

The way I look

The god was confused, the two of them had been dating for about a month. He figured that was a miracle on its own, but she seemed to be growing distant.

“Is everything alright?” he asked her one night

“Yeah,” she shrugged “everything is fine. Why?”

“You just seem,” Loki paused looking for the right words “different,”

Her face grew pale, and she looked down at her lap “I'm alright,” she stated

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” he asked

“I dunno,” she sighed “I just, why me?” “What do you mean why you?” the trickster questioned

“Why did you choose me?” you asked “There are far better-looking women in the world and you picked me,”

“Darling, the way I see it, you are the most beautiful woman on this planet,” he assured her

“Thanks,” she smiled weakly

Loki sighed “Who made you think you weren’t beautiful.”

She shrugged again “I dunno, me I guess,”

“Well you are unbelievable,” he said, “and you have the best ass in all the nine realms.”

She chuckled “I knew you were only here for my butt,”

“That amongst other things,” the god’s eyes darkened

“Do tell,” she smirked

Loki’s mind raced with the memories of that night. Thinking back it was the first time she’d opened up to him, the first time her anxiety had leaked through the shield she put up around herself.

    2.   I’m talentless

Loki frowned, how could she think she was talentless? She had done so many amazing things.

The trickster peered over her shoulder trying to see what was drawn out on the pad in front of her. It looked like a bunch of shapes to him, but she’d gone through several papers.

“What are you doing?” he asked sitting next to her on the sofa

“Nothing,” she replied making wild movements with her hand on the paper

“What are these?” he questioned uncrumpling the papers next to him

“Aren’t you just full of questions?” she said taking the papers from him

“I’m just curious,” he responded sneaking a piece of paper away and hastily unfolding it “that’s me,”

“It’s not good,” she said

“It’s amazing,” he responded

She narrowed her eyes “I’ve seen better,”

“Well, I like it,” Loki confessed, “maybe I’ll show Thor?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said “not that one,”

“There are others?” he questioned

“What do you think I’m working on right now?” she said

It took a few hours, but that was the last paper she used that night. A day or so later Loki saw her sitting on the sofa with a blank page in front of her.

“Did you finish the last one?” he asked

“Kinda,” she said “I don’t really like it,”

“Do you ever?” he questioned taking the pad from her and flipping to the picture. It was one of the best drawings he’d seen. It was as if he was staring at a picture she’d taken

“What don’t you like?” he asked

“The shading is all wrong” she responded

“I see,” he replied carefully removing the picture from the pad

“What are you doing?” she questioned taking the pad away from him

“I’m taking this,” he stated, “I look like a king.”

“That’s the point,” she smiled “you really like it?”

“The only thing it’s missing is a crown,” Loki commented

“Gimme,” she replied taking the drawing from him and doodling something on it. When she handed it back, the god noticed a small crown floating above his head.

“Much better” he smirked

    3.   I think things that aren’t true

He found her curled in a ball in her closet, tears stained her cheeks. The god didn't know what to do, should he comfort her? Should he leave her? Maybe she just needed to be alone, or maybe she needed someone there but couldn't ask. He didn't enter the closet, but he sat down in the doorway if she needed someone she had someone, but if she didn't the girl could easily ignore him. He noticed her sobs begin to quiet, like she was holding her breath, trying to hide.

“It’s just me,” he called softly

Her breath hitched, and he could see her curl tighter in the closet.

“Do you want me to come in?” Loki asked

“N-no” she muttered “yes…”

The god frowned and crawled into the closet and pulled the girl into his arms. He didn't ask her anything he just held her if she needed to talk he was there but if she didn't want to, there was no pressure.

“Y-you weren't supposed to see this,” she paused “see this me.”

“It’s alright love,” he assured “I understand,”

“I'm sorry,” she cried

“For what?” the god asked pulling her closer

“For- for not telling you,” her breathing became more sporadic “for not being, being who you thought I was”

“Darling it's alright,” he said calmly “I promise, just breathe ok?”

She nodded trying to calm herself and breathe with him. That night she fell asleep in his arms, they both slept in the closet.

   4.   I'm not a nice person

Loki looked at the words, again and again, he could actually understand this one, sort of. Y/n did have a tendency to snap at people or be sassy, and sometimes she was rude, but she always had a reason. Generally, if you didn't piss her off, she was kind and usually caring.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she scowled

“Don’t what?” Tony asked

“Don’t act like you’re better than him,” she said, “don’t act like you haven’t made your fair share of mistakes.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t try to kill an entire race or take over the world,” he retorted

“But your robot child did,” she countered

“He’s not my child, and Bruce helped too,” Tony stated

“Bro,” Bruce said looking up from his papers

“He didn’t want to help,” she replied “besides Ultron was your idea,”

“Well I’m not inherently evil like him,” Tony said

You groaned “He is not inherently evil, I figured you’d understand him, try to at least get along with him but no.”

“Why should I?” he asked

“Because he’s going to be living here and you can’t just ignore him, and you can’t be a dick to him,” you answered

“Aww,” he pouted “don’t want me to hurt his ego?” “No, I don’t want to hurt yours,” the girl glared

“Sweetheart,” Tony started before Bruce cut him off

“Bad idea man” he called from his desk

“I thought you weren’t getting involved” Tony called back

“As much fun as it is to watch her kick your ass I don’t want to clean it up again,” Bruce replied

“Just try to be nice to him,” she said

“Fine,” he paused “but if he’s an ass.”

“You’re going to be the better person,” you finished for him and walked out.

Loki may not have been the argument, but Thor had told him to go to you if he had issues with everyone and he soon learned the story. He didn’t understand exactly why you stood up for him without knowing him yet, but he had to admit it was a nice change.

    5.   I have no friends

That was a blatant lie, in fact, she was out with her friends now. Not just her friends her family. Loki wanted to delve into this list a bit further, use it as a way to help. That was if he could help if she wanted his help. But as he was about to read the next item on the page her voice rang through the air. She wasn't due back for another day, the mission must've been easier than they thought.

“Loki?” She asked he rushed to shove the notebook back where he found it and pull out a photo album knowing he wouldn't have enough time to put away the box.

“I didn't know you looked this cute as a baby?” he said as she walked through the door her cheeks flushed red

“What are you doing,” she asked

The god merely shrugged putting the photo album back along with the box it came from.

“You were gone an awfully long time, darling,” he said

“Aww, you missed me” she teased

“I did not” he stated

“Did too” she sang walking out of the room “how about we fix that with a movie?”

“As you wish” Loki called getting up from his spot in the closet

“Just for that we’re watching The Princess Bride” she smiled.

It was hard for Loki to believe that she couldlook and seem this happy after what he had just read. He figgured that after reading eb=ven just part of the note he’d see all the things he missed before but she hid it so well. No wonder no one knew what was really going on in the girls mind.

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A/n: I hope you guys liked it! Part 2 should b out next week? I am so sorry it took me so long! -G

[starlit-scifi]

Chapter 4

First•Previous•Next

Colab isn’t that bad anymore with Lori there to walk you through it. Your study group soon gains another pair: Chemical Engineering major Manda Yu and Astrophysics major Hayleen Danara. They’re the only other female duo in your year, were paired up last term, and are now preparing for their six-week training mission scheduled for the end of this term.

Manda and Lori have been roommates since their first year, and spend most of their time together making snarky comments at each other about whatever ridiculousness goes on with the mils. You and Hayleen quickly lose track of the conversation through all the slang and jargon, and end up trading small talk. She’s also a Tusie, a year older than you, and from the complete opposite end of the habitable zone, but there’s still enough to chat about while you study.

“You really like Lori, huh?” she asks as you doodle in the margin of your notes, lulled by the virtual lecturer's voice. Your hand jerks and the stylus pen draws a broad streak across Diplomatic Practices of the New Space Age, 6th ed., before you lose control of it altogether. You fumble under the desk until you manage to grab it, then sit up with calm and collected poise, you hope. Lorina and Manda have noticed the disturbance, and Lori, apparently amused, gives a totally ladylike snort before she turns back to gossiping with Manda. Hayleen raises her eyebrow at you.

"She's a good partner," you say simply, once you’ve paused the recording.

She smiles. “That’s good to hear.”

“How about Manda?” You ask quickly, because that’s just how normal conversations work, you think.

“She’s wonderful. Best friend I’ve made here so far, honestly.”

“I’m glad.”

She nods. “The whole Colab thing is a lot easier when you’re with someone you like. Granted, a pair isn’t truly tested until they’ve been on the mission, but I can at least be pretty sure Manda won’t murder me in cold blood.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, honey,” Manda teases. “We haven’t even gotten to the stressful part yet. Lori, remember our first year, when our third-years were prepping? Remember Sandro?”

Lori grimaces. “Oh boy, do I remember.”

Manda turns back at you, smiling grimly. “We’ll spare you the gory details, but let’s just say the way some people behave under pressure while in positions of authority isn’t exactly pleasant.” Lori nods along.

You raise your eyebrows at Hay and she rolls her eyes. “I’ve heard the story. It wasn’t really that bad. She’s just being dramatic, as usual,” she adds, rolling her eyes.

“You know you love it,” Manda teases.

“Oh, you know I do,” Hay returns. And it’s all just good-natured teasing, girls amongst girls. Something your introverted self never had as a kid, never grew into during school.

You fiddle with your stylus as the two of them joke around, suddenly aware that you’re not really part of this bubble of laughter and happiness. And you never have been.

Someone's foot taps you under the table and you look up. Lori smiles at you.

You smile back.

You're partners, after all.

You're not alone.

---

There's a couple of downsides to having Lori as a partner. For one, she holds a few leadership positions that take up quite a bit of her already limited time. This occasionally means she’s suddenly forced to back out on study sessions in order to deal with issues (she uses a few more curse words than you personally would to describe said issues, but you understand).

In addition to being heavily involved with mil stuff, she’s also been romantically involved with more than a few people on either side of Unity. Word gets around pretty quickly that you’re the newest subject of her affections-- which you’re not, of course, you’re project partners and you really wonder how the gossip mill has managed to disregard that glaringly important fact. Still, her admirers and/or exes make their displeasure with your continued existence known. This is mostly by giving you dirty looks, but occasionally they try to start things with you.

You find yourself getting a lot of practice with being diplomatic lately.

One afternoon you’ve decided to study in the library during your free time. You’ve just set down your things when someone sits across from you. She’s a second-year suppie, and you’re pretty sure she’s not in your dorm or any of your classes, so you wonder why she’s here.

“Excuse me,” she says curtly.

“Yes?”

“I just hope you know what you're getting into.” Dark eyes glitter against her olive skin and you feel the dread of yet another unpleasant social interaction settle in the pit of your stomach.

“...Excuse me?”

She sighs loudly. “Look. I know you’re getting all buddy-buddy with Lorina. If you take it any further, it’s not going to go well for you.”

“We're not--” you find yourself struggling for words suddenly, “We're just colab partners-- I don’t even know you.”

Another sigh, more disgusted than the last, and she stretches out a hand. “Tereza Unde, I’m a second-year comm major. We had a composition class together first term last year.”

“Oh. Okay.” You hesitate, but take her hand anyway. “Aurora Delenz, bio and relations double major. Nice to meet you,” you add. It sounds more like a question than it should, but you’re actually kind of unsure whether this interaction is even a good thing.

“Nice to meet you too. I’m just trying to watch out for you,” she adds, and somehow you don’t quite believe her.

“I can handle my personal matters myself,” you say firmly.

“Not with her, you can’t. Trust me. She’ll sweep you off your feet and leave you with nothing. She doesn’t actually care about you as much as you think, ever.” There’s painful resentment in her words. You don’t know anything about the situation, and you’re not sure you want to know-- mostly because you have an assignment due tonight and don't exactly have the time to listen to a complete stranger rant about her ex.

“As long as she cares about me enough to not fail the both of us, I’m happy. We’re just project partners, and that’s not going to change.”

She scoffs, sliding her chair back. “Yeah. Right. Don’t say I didn't warn you, Delenz.”

There’s a good half dozen things you want to say to her as she walks off, but you hold your tongue. No point in starting a fight.

No point in relying on her words alone, either.

---

-Do you have time to meet up right now?

-Yes, I was actually about to ask you.

-I’m in the library, usual spot

-Be there in a bit

A few minutes later she comes in, coffee in hand, glancing around the room. Her eyes light up when she spots you, and you smile.

“Have you started on the assignment yet?” she asks as she sits down.

You sigh. “Not really... I have a quiz tomorrow for another class, so I’m looking through those notes right now.” Or at least, I was trying to...

“That’s fine. I’m sort of putting it off too, this one looks like it’ll be rough.”

“Yeah.”

Silence falls. It’s a cozy silence, filled with the murmur of your fellow students around you and the smell of hot coffee. You breathe it in for a moment.

“So… I met a friend of yours named Tereza earlier,” you mention casually as you flick through your notes.

Lori’s eyebrows go all the way up as she sips her coffee. She clears her throat before she says, “Oh. How is she?”

Your fingers go still. “...to be honest, she seemed… kind of bitter.”

She sighs quietly. “That would be her.” She stares into her cup. “I don’t want to really get into it, but… I did mess up. But I apologized, and I tried to fix it… She’d rather stay bitter.”

“I figured.”

She shrugs. “Dating scene’s rough here anyway.”

You can tell she’s trying to change the subject, and you decide you’d rather just play along. “How else would it be, with a bunch of older teens and twenty-somethings stuck on a ship for ages?”

She shakes her head with a humorless smile. “Half of the issues I deal with involve the fact that most of the people in my unit have slept with each other and it's stupid.” She rips into a packet of crackers. “At least date outside,” she says between bites, “It's not that hard.”

“I guess,” you say with a shrug. She turns the package toward you and you take one, trying to eat at least a little more gracefully.

She looks at you pensively as she chews, then swallows. “You… never have really dated around, have you?”

“No,” you admit. Why do you feel so shy about it? “I never had the time, especially during secondary.” You snap a cracker in half. “Besides, my parents…”

“Oh, I forgot about Tusies and their arranged marriages. Up here, most of them ignore those arrangements; after all, who needs to know, right? We’re all going back eventually anyway, or something.” She looks down at her coffee. “Is he… nice, at least?”

Thinking of him for honestly the first time in months because the boy can’t be bothered to even write you, you can’t help but make a face. “He’s boring. It’s not like he's mean, or even really scummy or anything, but he’s not doing anything with his life, so I’m pretty sure my parents are going to break it off for me next time I go home.”

She snorts. “How convenient.”

“I guess?” You shrug uncomfortably. “It’s not exactly convenient, there’s paperwork and awkward fancy dinners involved. Plus it’ll just be awkward after I graduate since I’ll inevitably run into him everywhere. Ugh.”

She laughs. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t see how you can get a functioning society out of that mess,” she says, shaking her head.

You mimic a snooty old-fashioned voice as you say, “Genetic compatibility coupled with economic and political advancement…” Lori laughs again, and you shrug. “It was supposed to yield the ideal society back in the Separation Times, but now that the colonies are back in contact and population size has stabilized, it’s mostly done for political reasons.”

“And you…” she frowns. “Damn. I’m sorry your parents put you through that, like…”

“Making me a pawn? It’s not like that. It was more of a genetic match in my case. His family would actually get the better end of the deal, mine just wanted the lowest possible chance of recessive diseases. You know how it is.”

She makes a face. “Mm. Yeah, okay.”

You can tell she doesn’t really accept that, but it’s nothing you can change. She sips her coffee in silence, and you pick at a hangnail on your index finger, wincing at the pop of pain and blood when you pull too hard. You notice her watching as you put your finger in your mouth and you raise an eyebrow at her. She shakes her head at you with a small smile.

A question comes to mind by the time you've stopped bleeding. “Excuse me if it's a rude question, but don’t your people have a polyamorous family arrangement?”

Lori shrugs. “Eh… not… exactly? There’s two genetic parents, obviously, but a marriage is between three people,” she says as she draws a triangle in the air with her finger, lingering at the third vertex. “The third is a caretaker and mediator, and can be a parent outside the relationship, but is a part of both households, so usually extended families just live close together.” She retraces one imaginary line, drawing an adjoining triangle as she goes on. “My mimi-- our family’s third--took my dad as her third, so our immediate family is very small, but I was still never lonely growing up. Cousins, and all that.” She laughs. “So many cousins.”

“Sounds nice…” You look down at the painful mess you’ve made of your cuticles. “My parents were an arranged marriage. They were the children of politicians from formerly competing political factions, different bloodlines, a good match all around.” She nods slowly, but you can sense that it’ll take a while for her to warm up to the idea, if ever. “My mom’s side was mostly Workers, and my dad's was more part of the Old Earth elite, so my parents were sort of the face of this new, centralized vision for humanity. Basically, they traveled a lot trying to promote intercolonial policy, and still do. So…” Your mangled finger throbs, and you bite your lip. “I was almost always alone when I was growing up. Our house was programmed well, though, so I wasn’t raised too badly,” you add, purposely over-cheery.

She laughs and shakes her head. Even though you were trying to make light of it, that kind of hurts.

“What?” You ask, trying not to let it show.

“No, not too bad at all. You're okay.” She smiles fondly at you. “You don’t have to feel lonely anymore.”

“I don’t, not with you,” you say truthfully. Then you realize how that sounds and add hurriedly, “W-with you, and Hay and Manda. It’s nice.”

There’s something strange in her expression now, but you don’t understand it.

“It is,” she says simply.

But why does it all feel so complicated?

Her airscreen goes off and she checks the notification and groans. “I need to go work out. Wanna come?” She asks with a smirk, already knowing your answer.

“Nope,” you say emphatically. “Look, look, I’m injured.” You pout, showing her your finger. She takes your hand and you freeze up, but she’s warm and gentle, even though she’s only doing it to play along.

“That looks serious,” she says gravely, with barely contained mirth in her eyes. “Ice it and go lie down, but that’s no excuse to skip class tomorrow.”

You scoff and withdraw your hand, mock-offended. “Like I ever would.” And honestly, with her sitting beside you every day, you wouldn’t.

First•Previous•Next

[miraculously-fangirling]

Springtime Connection - Chapter 11

The day’s classes passed by quickly. Excited chatter and passed texts mute the teacher’s lessons as the students secretly continued to work on their exhibit. Many of the teachers grumbled about the students’ split attention, but couldn’t help smiling as they watched the teens working together.

Things seemed to slow down around physics class as Mme. Mendeleiev tapped her pen against her desk. Many teens grumbled as they took out their notebooks. Marinette doodled in her notebook as Mendeleiev discussed the qualities of electricity. Marinette thought back to her conversation with Adrien. She was glad that she managed to get him smiling but the conversation also made her think about something she had put on the back burner. What the hell was she going to wear? 

Ladybug was out for obvious reasons. Actually, she was going to steer clear of anything red and black. The class had decided to not do American comic heroes, so Marinette was going to have to get creative. There was one week left before the festival. What in the hell could she scrounge up in a few days? The only rule was that everyone had to have a mask of some sort. 

The bell rang just as Mme. Mendeleiev announced homework that no one except Max would probably do on time. The excitement was palpable as the students filed out of the room and congregated into friend groups around the courtyard.

Marinette wandered, lost in thought, when Alya slung her arm around Marinette’s shoulders. Marinette jumped a bit while Alya giggled to herself.

“Hey girl,” Alya said as Marinette playfully pushed her elbow into Alya’s side. 

“What’s with the spacing out? You’ve been daydreaming all day.” 

“Have not.” 

Alya smirked. “Oh really? Then tell me what last class was about?”

Marinette looked around, trying to remember anything from the past hour. She could only think of designs of possible heroes and the sketches in her notebook. “Ah, okay fine. I wasn’t exactly paying the most attention.”

 Alya smirk turned into a straight up grin. “Oh? Did it have to do with your little walk this morning?”

 Marinette rolled her eyes. Alya was half right, she guessed. “No, I was just thinking about next week.” She wasn’t lying.

 “Is it really that soon?”

 Marinette nodded. “Oh yeah, Alya do you know who you’re going to dress up as?”

 Alya stopped for a moment with an ear-to-ear smile. “Isn’t it obvious?” Marinette shook her head. “Ladybug of course,” Alya said with her chest out.

 Marinette couldn’t help but giggle at Alya’s enthusiasm. She really was a fangirl. It almost made Marinette proud. She caused this. She caused this passion to rise in Alya. Sure it was embarrassing at times, but she was nothing but happy when Alya fell deep into her obsession.

 “Is Nino being Chat Noir then?”

 “Of course.”

 Marinette fell into a fit of giggles as she imagined the hyper DJ getting into ridiculous poses and trying to make up ‘clever’ puns. Only the real Chat could come up with corny jokes the way he did. Nino would just sit there and struggle to wear his glasses over the black mask.

 “Oh, are you laughing at me?” Alya said with hands on her hips, “Then what’re you wearing?”

 Marinette shrugged. She thought back to her earlier conversation to Adrien. Maybe she would try the cat theme, but she wasn’t quite set on it just yet. She didn't want to become a gender-bend of her partner.

 “Well,” Alya said, “I’m sure you’ll come up with something just fabulous. Watch, Adrien won’t be able to resist you after next week.” Marinette’s heart skipped as she thought about him. He was smiling this morning, but was he really okay? She pasted on a wider to smile to ward off any vacant expressions.

 “Oh my God, Alya,” Marinette said with a fresh wave of giggles coming on. 

“Just stop.”

 Alya gave her a wink. “Have some faith.”

 “Am I interrupting something?” Nino said from the stairwell. He took off his headphones as he came to Alya’s side. He wrapped an arm around Alya with a stupid grin.

 “Always, you big dork,” Alya said while giving her boyfriend a wide smile.

 Marinette suddenly felt the third wheel effect. Adrien was going to be picked up shortly if he wasn’t already. Marinette said her goodbyes to the happy couple before making her way home. Adrien was just climbing into his family’s car as Marinette walked down the school’s front steps.

 They locked eyes and exchanged a small wave. Marinette almost forgot to lift her hand before the Gorilla sped away with Adrien in tow.

Adrien kept thinking about outfits for next week. He couldn't do Chat, obviously, but he lacked in the creativity department. He was always more of a thinker than a maker. Maybe that’s why Ladybug had the confusing ability while his destruction powers were more straightforward. American heroes were out of the question due to a class poll, but what about other countries?

As soon as Adrien got home, he went straight to his room. His father was still out of sight, and that was fine by him. His father’s warmth was fresh in his memory and he’d hate to spoil it.

His door locked behind with a click, as Adrien went to his wall to wall bookshelves. He scanned the titles until he came to the brightly colored section that housed his manga collection. He pulled out a number of volumes from various series. He looked over the brightly colored costumes for any spark of inspiration and wondered how in the hell that Marinette was able to pull things into existence from her thoughts.

Eventually the floor was covered in manga and Adrien laid in the middle of it on his back. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. The flashy costumes were all too complex. Sure, he could buy one, but that didn’t feel right. Everything so far was handmade. Using money seemed like a cop out at this point.

He groaned. Plagg floated from his bed hidden in Adrien’s bedside table. He yawned as he landed atop Adrien’s chest. “What are you griping about now?”

“Next week.” 

“What about it?” 

“The festival and the cafe?”

“Oh, the superheroes coming home thing. Right. Right. I think you mentioned that.”

“Yeah well, I need to figure out a costume.”

Plagg rolled on his back in laughter while Adrien let out another groan. Plagg really was never any help. Ever. “Oh my God, kid. I knew you were something, but this takes the cheese.”

“Cake, Plagg. You’re supposed to say cake.”

Plagg shrugged. “But cheese is so much better,” he said, “Anyways, why don't you just wear a mask and a suit. You can probably just say you’re some robin hood or something.”

An idea popped into Adrien’s head. He could do that with the addition of some props. He clamored down his stairs to his desktop. He quickly went to Google and searched for an older franchise, one he hadn’t read or even watched but knew quite well.

A wide smile spread across Adrien’s face as the possibility came before his eyes. He would be cosplaying pretty much, but it would work.

Well it would almost work… he just needed a top hat. 

Marinette headed home without delay. She really couldn’t put anything off with only a few days left. She crawled into her room soon after greeting her parents. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to disappear this time.

She sat on her bed with sketchbook in hand and began flipping through the pages. She came upon her bowler hat designs from a few months ago and found one rejected sketch, a hat covered in flowers. She leaned against the wall and stared at the drawing. 

Flowers…

Tikki flew over and landed on the edge of Marinette’s sketchbook with her big blue eyes scanning the drawing. “What are you going to do with that?” 

Marinette ripped out the flower hat drawing before turning to a new page in her sketchbook. She quickly sketched out a basic dress scape over a generic human figure. “I think I’ve got something.”

Marinette intently sketched out a design for her new hero. It was going to be nothing like her aerodynamic spots. It was, well, cute.

Tikki clapped her small hands when Marinette finished her second, more polished sketch of the design. Marinette smiled as she placed the book and pencil onto her desk. She rubbed her eyes, leaving a graphite smudge on her cheekbone.

She snatched her tablet and scrolled through social media. She was in no state of mind to do homework; instead, she wanted to concentrate on finishing her costume. One week wasn’t going to kill her. As she scrolled, she came upon a video posted by Adrien, a playful match between a kitten and a golden retriever puppy.

Marinette smiled at the video, but that smile soon diminished as she thought about her partner. He was probably still hurting. He smiled in class, but Adrien was good at hiding. He didn’t need the mask to hide his personal life. Marinette thought about his mother.

Fuck, how is he doing really?

“Tikki,” Marinette said, “can we go out right now?”

“What for?”

“Just a little visit.”

[jewelphan]

Caught Up in a Dream - Ch. 6

Summary:  Dan is Phil’s best friend, and he has been for the better half of the year. The only problem is that Dan doesn’t exist, not really. Dan is just a person who appears in Phil’s dreams; someone who’s made up. At least, that’s what Phil believes.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: yelling/arguing

Previous Chapter

“-I don’t think I had ever been so happy. I mean, he actually invited me somewhere, can you believe that? No one ever invites me anywhere and it made me feel kinda special, y’know?” Phil paused, noticing that Dan seemed a little lost in thought.

“Dan?”

No answer.

“Dan?”

Nothing.

“Daniel?”

“What?” Dan groaned.

“Have you heard a single word I’ve said?”

“No,” He barked. “Why? Was it important?”

“Nope, not at all. My happiness is not at all important.” Phil snarled, what the hell was his deal?

“Great.”

“Great? All you have to say is ‘great’? What has gotten into you? One day you’re fine and the next you’re this bratty little shit.”

“Maybe because all you ever talk about anymore is my fucking look-alike. Dan this. Dan that. Well, what about me? What about the Dan that was here for you first, huh?” He asked bitterly.

“Are you jealous?” Phil asked flabbergasted.

“What if I am?”

“Then you need to get over yourself.”

“What the hell, Phil?”

“What?” Phil yelled.

“What do you mean, ‘what’? You say I’m the bratty one, but have you taken a look at yourself lately?”

“You want to know why I won’t shut up about your so called ‘look alike’?” Phil asked.

“Yes!” Dan screamed, “I would love to know why.”

“It’s because I’m trying to prove a point,” Phil’s voice was quieter, but still harsh.

“And what point would that be?” Dan’s voice also going slightly softer.

“That-you-are-the-same-person,” Phil mumbled so quietly and quickly that Dan didn’t hear.

“What?”

Phil repeated himself, but louder and clearer. And as soon as he said it (really said it) he realized how ridiculous the idea sounded. He wanted to slap himself in the face. Everything made sense in his mind, but out loud, it sounded so stupid. And Dan clearly thought so as well considering he was laughing like a drunk hyena.

“Y-y-you wh-ah?” Dan was choking on his laughter, not even able to get one word out.

“It’s not that funny,” Phil grumbled, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“Y-yes it i-ss,” Dan had literal tears rimming his eyes, and Phil couldn’t have felt any more humiliated.

“Please, just shut up,” Phil muttered, but Dan didn’t stop laughing. Phil glared at him and sat in silence for a good few minutes before his laughter finally subsided.

“Why would you think that?”

“How could I not? You both look the same, sound the same, even act the same. Not to mention the fact that he knew my last name, which I never told him,” Phil tried to explain.

“First off, just because he looks and sounds and acts like me, doesn’t mean he is me-”

“-you don’t understand, Dan. He isn’t just like those things, he is those things. He isn’t just like you, he is the perfect spitting image of you,” Phil interrupted.

“He isn’t me, Phil. No matter what you think or say, he isn’t.” Dan said.

“Then what about the last name thing?” Phil asked.

“Your last name, Phil? Really? He could have gotten that a number of ways, perhaps he asked someone, or he could have seen it on a paper, or one of the teachers could have said it. The possibilities are endless.”

The more Dan talked, the more sense he seemed to make, and the stupider Phil felt. Phil couldn’t believe he ever thought that they were the same person, the more he thought about it, the less sense it seemed to make. All he was ever going on was the last name thing, and Dan cleared that right up. He felt so utterly ridiculous.

“I’m sorry,” Phil then said.

“It’s fine, Phil. It was a little - okay, slightly big - misunderstanding. But these things happen, especially to dorks like you.”

Phil smiled, “we good then?”

Dan shrugged, “I don’t even remember what we were arguing about.”

-

The next morning, Phil felt empty. Almost like he didn’t have anything to do with his life anymore. He was so caught up in trying to prove both his friends were the same person that he forgot what he was doing with his life in the first place. So he didn’t feel particularly good. But what was bothering him more than the emptiness he felt, was the fact that he still somehow couldn’t convince himself that they were different people.

Despite everything Dan said, Phil still felt like the were the same person. But Dan wouldn’t lie to him; at least, he never has. Phil shook his head and got up from his bed, he couldn’t allow himself to think such things, especially about his best friend. Phil trusted Dan, and he refused to start doubting his trust just because his instinct was telling him something different.

Phil quickly tried to distract himself from his thoughts by getting ready for school. And it worked, he was ready to leave in record time, he even had time to get breakfast. By the time he was finished eating, he still had a few extra minutes, but he decided to start walking to school anyway. He figured that it was good to be early every once in awhile.

By the time he got to school, he had a full ten minutes to kill which wasn’t considered ‘early’ to most people, but considering Phil barely ever got to school by the time the bell rang, it was definitely early for him. He decided to just chill out in his classroom until school started because he didn’t have anything better to do. The teacher was already at his desk, but he made no mind to Phil, he seemed too busy grading papers or whatever teachers do right before school starts.

As the minutes went by, students started flooding into the classroom, and at eight o'clock the bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. Phil sat quietly in his chair for a good ten minutes, silently doodling in his textbook while the teacher lectured, until he suddenly realized, where the hell was Dan? He was always here early, not once has he been late to a class. But before Phil started panicking, he sent a quick text to Dan asking him where he was. But after another ten minutes passed and no text back, he started to worry.

He started scribbling on the textbook rather than drawing, and he started to subconsciously tap his foot. With each passing minute, his heartbeat got faster, his scribbling rougher, and his tapping became fidgety. He didn’t know why he felt so off-put and nervous. There could be a million different reasons that Dan wasn’t at school, or that he wasn’t answering Phil’s texts. Yet Phil couldn’t help but feel like something was very wrong.

The whole school day went by slowly, and Phil hadn’t gotten a single word from Dan the whole day. He was beyond worried. And as soon as the last bell of the day rang, Phil got home as fast as he could. Dan may have tried to convince Phil that both Dan’s weren’t the same person, but he didn’t believe him, not completely. And if he didn’t hear anything from school-Dan all day, then what about dream-Dan?

With that thought in mind, Phil ran up to his room and tried to fall asleep. Sleep certainly didn’t come as fast as he had hoped, but it did eventually claim him.

Phil woke up on the familiar platform drowned in the sky of stars, and his eyes darted from corner to corner, but the one he was looking for wasn’t there.

Dan wasn’t there.

Next Chapter

a/n: who likes leaving cliff-hangers? I do *innocently smiles*... also, are you proud of my quick update, I know I am :)