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rocksandrobots · 4 years ago

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Phantoms of the Past: Ch. 5 - Best friends, Boyfriends, and Barons Part 1

"Hey Miss Itamae! Ready for a whole new school year? Hee...hee...eeeh.... yeah, fine." Hiro gave up trying to make small talk with the lunch lady as she unceremoniously slopped meatloaf onto his plate.

Today was the first day of the fall semester and the start of Hiro's second year at SFIT. It felt odd to him, to look back and realize just how much time had passed; how much things had changed during the previous year.

A year ago, today, he had been attending Tadashi's funeral and now he was going about his life as if everything was normal. Well, almost normal. He was also moonlighting as a superhero, adopting an out of time teenager as his new big brother, and befriending deadly robots.

Life was weird.

Of course it wasn't as if he could ignore his loss completely. He had noticed the flowers and cards placed at the foot of Tadashi's memorial over by the exhibition hall. People still remembered that his brother had died a hero. Folks that he didn't even know had left their condolences today, though most of the gifts were from Tadashi's teachers and friends.

Hiro had particularly noticed a painting Honey Lemon had left, of her, Tadashi, and the rest of their friends. He also spotted Gogo sitting out there early that morning, lighting a candle in his brother's memory. He had given her her space, choosing not to interrupt. Gogo and Tadashi had been especially close.

Hiro remembered how excited his brother had been when Gogo finally agreed to go out with him. Tadashi had hurried about their bedroom, a couple of days before the fire, fretting over where to take her on their first date. A date that they had never gotten to go on. At the time Hiro had teased him relentlessly, never passing up the chance to deflate his brother's ego. Now it was just another bittersweet memory to look back on.

Fred abruptly snapped him out of his mournful reflection. "Steve." was all he said as he grabbed Hiro by the shoulders.

"Steve? Uh, my name is Hiro, remember Fred?"

"No, no, no, Steve was the name of the ninja robot that Trina found. She said he was held in a warehouse downtown, along with all the other ninjas. Don't you see, that's our big break! We find this warehouse and then we can track down the mysterious bosu!"

Hiro wearily placed his tray down on the table and took a seat next to Wasabi.

"Fred, it's the first day of school. Can't this wait for later?"

"But-"

"Hiro's right Fred," Wasabi interrupted, "Just because you have all the time in the world to play superhero doesn't mean that we do. We still got our own lives to take care of."

Fred looked hurt at that. "I'm not playing! This is important work. We have a city to protect and this crime boss is just going to keep coming after us if we don't figure out how to stop them."

Wasabi rolled his eyes. "Then you just go on and do that. In the meantime the rest of us have class to attend. I'm heading early to set up for my first lab."

"But labs won't open for like another hour." Hiro pointed out, confused. "They're still cleaning up from the robot attacks last week."

"Ah, he just wants to get there early so that he can see his boyfriend again." Fred complained.

"Sam's not my boyfriend. He's just a colleague, and at least I'm doing something other than obsess over superheroing." And with that Wasabi stormed off, while Fred slouched into the cafeteria chair with a huff.

"Listen, Fred, why don't you go on patrol with Minimax for a while. I'll help you track down this warehouse after school is over with." Hiro said.

"Okay," Fred reluctantly agreed, "but I'm not 'obsessing'."

"I know Fred, but the rest of us also have school to worry about. We just don't have the same amount of free time as you do."

"I know." Fred sighed before walking off.

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

"Sorry Hiro, but we're kind of busy right now." Honey Lemon regretfully informed her friends.

Fred and Hiro had met up after school as promised. Wasabi had declined to join them on their quest and so they had decided to recruit the girls instead. Though this also seemed to be a fruitless endeavor.

"Yeah, we're kind of in the middle of something." Gogo finished as she leaned back in a reclining chair and placed two cucumber slices over her eyes.

They had found the girls at a spa. Honey Lemon sat next to Gogo with curlers in her hair, and they apparently weren't the only ones out having a beauty day.

"Can't you see we're having some girl time?" Karmi asked, annoyed, as she examined her nails.

"Yeah, Hiro, go take your weird superhero hobby elsewhere?" Megan added.

"It's not weird!" Fred insisted.

"If this is supposed to be a girls only event, then why is he here?" Hiro said, pointing to Varian, who sat next to Megan.

"Uh, getting a manicure obviously." Varian rolled his eyes and then leaned over to show Carol, who was beside him, two bottles of nail polish. "Do you think I should go with the midnight blue or just stick with black?"

"Hmmm... I think either would be nice," she replied.

"Ooooh, have you tried the seaweed wrap they have here? It's great." Fred chimed in.

Hiro rolled his eyes, "Okay, so what are you two doing after this? Could you take up patrol tonight?"

"Nope." Gogo said.

"I promised my brother Carlos that I would help him move into his new dorm room. He starts at UCLA this week and Gogo's offered to drive me there. We won't be back till tomorrow morning." Honey Lemon explained.

"Okay, well, we'll just-"

"Alright, I'm ready." A voice called out, interrupting him.

Trina walked out from behind a door at the back of the spa. Her bulky gigantic metal body was gone and in its place was the frame of a young woman, dressed in a t-shirt, pants, and a cropped jacket. She looked very much the same as the day Hiro had first met her, at the bot fights. Only this time her hair had been cut and styled into a short mohawk and dyed a light purple.

"What do you guys think?" She asked as she twirled around.

Everyone shouted encouragements to her, and Varian cheekily whistled.

"You look nice, Trina." Hiro complimented.

Trina snorted and rolled her eyes. "In your dreams, Hiro." She said, leaving the teenage genius confused by what he had said wrong.

Ignoring him, Trina walked over to the rest of the girls, "Thanks for the clothes... and for everything else." She sheepishly added.

"Hey, no problem." Megan replied. "They look good on you."

"Yeah, and if you need anything else just ask." Karmi added.

"Not to mention it's always fun to have a spa day," Carol piped in. "This was a good idea Varian, thanks for inviting me along."

"Sure thing. When Trina said she wanted help with finding a new wardrobe, I figured all of you would like to go shopping too.... and also y'all know more about clothes than I do."

"Hey, Trina," Fred interjected, "that warehouse where you foun- I mean, met 'Steve', do you happen to remember where it was located?"

Trina gave Fred a frown.

"Oooh, who's Steve?" Karmi asked, happy to gossip, "Is that your boyfriend Trina?"

"No." She said, "The place you're looking for is over in Good Luck Alley, next to Louie's."

"It must've been a bad breakup." Karmi whispered into Honey Lemon's ear, she wasn't very good at keeping her voice down.

"Yeah… he kind of... broke alright." Honey Lemon nervously added, unsure what to say.

"Uh, yeah, well thanks for the tip Trina. We'll be going now, bye." Hiro said as he hurried Fred out the door. He had had enough of awkward conversations and makeovers.

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"Fred, wouldn't it be better if we brought our robots along at least?" Hiro whispered.

"You want to sneak around an abandoned warehouse with those two?" Fred whispered back, "I love him, but Minimax doesn't know how to be quiet, like at all."

Hiro sighed, Fred had a point. Baymax also wasn't the best at stealth missions. Hiro slid into the alleyway and peered through a dirty window. He couldn't shake the sense of deja vu as he remembered how he and the robotic nurse had tracked down his missing microbots a year ago at a similar warehouse. They had both been nearly killed by Callaghan when the villain had caught them snooping around. He would prefer to avoid such a scenario again.

"It doesn't look like anyone is here." He said.

"See any ninja robots?" Fred asked as he also pushed by to get a look, pressing his nose against the glass.

"No… Fred, this may be a dead end. Trina already raided the place and no doubt this Bosu would have abandoned the hideout if it was compromised."

Fred pouted, "Maybe… Buuuut, we could always man a stake-out and find out for sure!"

"Fred, I have homework to do. Maybe some oth-"

"Oh please! Just for an hour, or two? Please, please, please? Pretty please? I'll do your homework for you."

"I don't want you doing my homework."

"Okay, chores then; I'll wash Varian's dirty socks and underwear for a… a week… no, a month! Come on, I know how much you hate doing laundry."

Hiro sighed and watched his friend crawl on his knees and beg. "Does it really mean that much to you?"

"Yeeeesss."

"Okay, and no, you don't have to do the laundry either."

Hiro turned to walk out of the alley and Fred got up and followed him.

"That's good, cause I don't actually know how to wash clothes. Usually, Heathcliff does all the laundry. Last time I tried to, I just flooded the washroom."

"Do you have any survival skills? Like at all?"

"Nope. Unless it's kicking bad guys' butts! Ooh, hey, we can host the stake-out at Louie's across the street. I'm starved."

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Hiro and Fred took up a window booth inside the restaurant. The establishment had recovered from the police raid from a few months back and was now serving food as usual; though Hiro had already spotted the advertisement for the next upcoming 'bot fight.

A couple of hours past and they had both eaten their meals, plus dessert, along with Fred going back for seconds. Now they were both nursing a couple of cups of coffee, though Hiro's was going cold; it wasn't great coffee.

"Fred…"

"Yeah."

"It's been three hours now."

"I know."

"No one's showed up."

"Not yet."

"Look it's been… 'fun', but I'm going home now."

Hiro got up to leave but Fred grabbed him by the sleeve.

"Oh but… uhh… we haven't even tried the uh… hot dog sushi special. I hear it's really good."

Hiro leaned his head back slowly and closed his eyes in frustration. He didn't want to snap at Fred, really he didn't, but he was quickly losing his patience.

"Fred… no one is coming. Let's just call it a night and try again some other time. Okay." And with that he yanked his hand away and began to walk off.

Fred didn't follow. Instead he sat in the booth, his eyes downcast, staring blankly at nothing. It wasn't his usual pout either. It was something else. Some deeper sadness that few saw from the usually optimistic teen.

Hiro began to worry. He walked back, and stood there waiting for Fred to jump back up all excited again for his return, only he didn't.

"Fred, what's wrong?"

Fred sighed but couldn't bring himself to answer.

"Look, I know that this superhero business is important to you, so much so that you'll probably wind up making a career out of it, which is great, but the rest of us are not going to be doing this for the rest of our lives. We also have to keep up with our studies, chores, our jobs, and what little shred of a social life we have."

"That's not it… I mean yeah, it's a part of it, but that's not why I asked you to come along."

Fred finally looked Hiro in the eye and tears threatened to spill.

"I just miss my best friend, okay."

Hiro looked at him confused.

"I didn't want to say anything, cause… cause he's your brother and I didn't think you'd want to be reminded about him being gone any more than you already have… but today has just been really hard… remembering what happened… I just thought getting out and doing something fun, getting both our minds off everything, might be better than just… just being alone. You know? Especially today."

Fred didn't even have to say Tadashi's name for Hiro to know who he was talking about.

Hiro sighed and slumped back down into the booth.

"I'm sorry…. I… I guess I just… I don't know. I didn't think...."

"No… no, don't. Of course you didn't think. I mean who wants to be reminded of that. The whole idea was to not think about it. And I just ruined it all by bringing it up. Gah…. I'm so sorry."

Fred put his arms over his head and brought his knees up to his chest as if trying to make himself as physically small as he felt. Hiro just had to laugh at the sight in spite of himself.

"It's okay Fred. You're not going to upset me just by talking about Tadashi."

Fred peaked his head out from between his arms. "I'm not?"

"No. I mean he was your friend too."

"My best friend! Man, Tadashi and I, we got up to all sorts of trouble. He was always down for anything. I mean, did he tell you about the time we crashed my cousin's bar mitzvah? As in, we literally crashed. He drove the sport's car into the buffet table by mistake… We couldn't find the parking and then there was this wet patch in the parking lot and we skidded… Oh and then there was the time Mole dared us to a drag race using scooters and Tadshi had the idea to attach rockets to mine and I went flying.. I tell ya, man, Mole wouldn't live it down for a whole week after. He kept demanding a rematch, but I mean it was fair. He was using his butler to ride for him in his place."

Hiro could barely contain his laughter, "Wait… wait… you and Tadashi did all this?"

"Yeah."

"Why have I never heard of any of this before?"

"I don't know, but he's the whole reason why I got the mascot job in the first place. I knew I could never get into the school myself, but I thought we could hang out together more if I went. He's also the one that introduced me to everybody else."

"Then how did you two meet?"

"Oh at the grocery store."

Fred said this as if it was the most obvious of explanations but Hiro looked as confused as ever. So Fred continued on.

"He was there getting chewing gum and I was buying a shopping cart. Like an actual shopping cart."

"Why?"

"Yeah that's what he asked too. So I told him, 'I'm going to ride down Dead Man's Hill in one.' And he said, 'Dude, that's so rad. You're totally going to die.' And I said, 'Yeah, I know. You wanna join?' And he did. We rode all the way down from the top of Lumbar Street to the docks… and landed right in the bay. It was awesome! We screamed our heads off the whole time. It was so awesome, in fact, that we walked back to the store and bought another cart just to do it again. That was back when we were both still in high school, and we've been best buds ever since. You know… until…"

Hiro looked at Fred sadly. There so much about his brother that hadn't known about, hadn't even thought to ask. What else had Tadashi not shared with him? Probably a lot, I mean why tell your kid brother about your social life? And there's no way that he'd have brought those crazy stunts up around Aunt Cass.

"I never knew any of that… Those are some really cool stories. Thanks for sharing them."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and you know, you don't have to drag me on some superheroing mission just to hang out and talk."

Fred looked guilty at that.

"I… I know… but it's like what you and Wasabi have been saying. Everyone else has something… something to motivate them, and y'all all do all these really cool things and I'm… I'm just me. I don't really have anything but superheroing. Unless you just need someone to make a mess."

"That's not true. Fred, you're great at a lot of things. You could go to school or get a job, if you wanted to. I just thought superheroing was all you wanted."

"Hiro, I can't even do laundry without messing up. I mean all you do is throw the clothes into a machine and push a button, and yet somehow I managed to screw even that up. All I know is comic books, and superheroing, and I'm not even the best at that! What would I even go to college for? I can't… I'm not a genius. I'm not a businessman. I'm not an accountant, or an artist, or an athlete. I'm not anything. I've no talent. I'm not even good at being rich. I've never fit in with the socialite crowd."

"Fred."

"Yeah?"

"You're good at being a friend, and if I have to sit here list off everything else you're good at then we'd be here for another three hours or more. So how about we head home and tomorrow I'll show you how to work a washing machine, and you can teach me how a stake-out is supposed to really go cause we're not getting anywhere here."

"Or are we?"

"What do you mean?"

Fred was no longer looking at Hiro but past him. He pointed to the window behind Hiro, and Hiro turned around to see for himself.

An elderly gentleman, dressed in an old fashioned military outfit, complete with a monocle, was entering the warehouse. He had a giant mechanical arm and a steam boiler strapped to his back.

"Baron Von Steamer."

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Fred and Hiro found themselves standing in the alley peering through the warehouse's dirty windows for a second time that day. They saw Baron Von Steamer stomping around inside. He seemed irritated as he grumbled to himself and knocked boxes out of the way, as if searching for something.

"What's he doing?" Fred loudly whispered.

Just then Steamer found what he was looking for, a tea cup. He poured himself a cup out of a teapot he had placed on an old fashioned stove that was hidden towards the back and then sat down on top of a crate to sip his drink.

"It must be 'tea time' for him." Hiro said dryly.

Fred narrowed his eyes, "I bet he's just hatching his next nefarious scheme. Planning on how to take us and the city down. What do you think he wants with portals?"

Just then Steamer stood up and ruefully kicked away a busted up robot that had fallen out of a storage crate in his previous hunt for the tea cup.

"I don't think Steamer is our guy." Hiro said, "He hates modern technology, so why would he build ninja robots? Also, like you said, what would he want with portals? All he's after is your dad, and so far the Bosu hasn't gone after Boss Awesome yet."

"But they might. Remember what Roddy said? That Kensei guy used to be active during Dad's heyday but never got caught. What if, it's because Steamer had two villain identities!"

"That seems like a stretch."

"Okay, well, what if Steamer works for this Bosu? Like Sue and Sparkles?"

"That's more plausible, I guess."

Hiro turned to peer through the window again, but Streamer was gone.

'Wait, where did he go?'

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A pair of interlopers." A curt British voice came from behind them.

Steamer must have noticed them and snuck around the back, cutting them off.

Hiro grabbed his phone in order to call his super suit, but Von Steamer nabbed his hand and yanked him off the ground, causing him to lose hold of his phone.

Fred was just as unfortunate, as Steamer held him in a choke hold in his metal arm.

"Waaaait," Steamer said as he eyed them both up closely, peering at them through his oversized monocle, "I know you two. You're friends of Boss Awesome's baby child!"

"I am Boss Awesome's baby child!" Fred protested before Von Steamer gave him a hard squeeze with his cyborg arm. Fred wheezed in pain.

Hiro reacted quickly and kicked the steampunk baron in the shins.

Von Steamer howled in pain and dropped Hiro in surprise, though he managed to keep his grip on Fred. He also had stepped on Hiro's phone while nursing his injured leg.

Hiro ducked and ran as Steamer regained his senses and pulled out a brass gun that was connected to the boiler on his back with a hose. He pulled the trigger and scalding steam shot out. Hiro ducked again to avoid it.

As he ran out of the alley way he heard Steamer shouting after him, "Yes, run back to Boss Awesome little one. Tell his baby child I have their friend, and either he, or they, must show up to face me or else!"

Hiro spared a glace backwards and saw Baron Von Steamer dragging Fred back into the warehouse.

"Fred!"

"Hiro!" Fred called out to him before being pulled into the darkness.

Hiro panicked. What could he do? Finally, he decided that getting help was the best option. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, fighting back his worry.

#Hiro Hamada #Fred Frederickson IV #big hero six #bh6 #tangled #varian #tadashi hamada

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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

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Strike! (Jaehyun x reader)

a/n : okaay soo this was almost from a real story :)) i twisted and improvised something that happened to me :p not important though, but please enjoy this scenario!

warning : none, i think this is save for everyone.. except if you have bad memories with bowling...

characters : you, Jae, and his friends (Yu,Tae,Johnny)

tagging @yutahoes (since she knew what happened) and @neopalette anyone else wants to be tagged in my works tell me :)

enjoy!!

Spring is happening, the flowers are blooming, and the sun has been staying up longer! Everyone’s toasting under the heat and hoping that summer can just come now. You personally enjoy the heat rather than shivering in the cold winter wind. It’s just that you don’t really have anyone to enjoy this beautiful weather with. Just like any other day, you got down from your room to look for dinner. The sun is still up and you choose to just use one of your jacket and plop into your shoes before locking the door and walking nicely to look for food.

You turn on your earphone, playing on some light music so you feel less lonely. It’s just that you have friends but today you don’t feel like eating with them. You’ve been to two classes today and worked on some homework, you noticed it’s time for a “me time”. So, with the sun shining warmly and you enjoying your afternoon walk you smile when you notice how many couples are walking around the campus.

You’re jealous, you wont lie. Come on, who’s not jealous to see cute happy couples walking under the sun and with the blooming flowers things just look like a scene from a movie. You personally slow down to think of which dining hall to visit today. You choose to go to the west side and see what menu they offer.

You don’t see much student there which make you settle quickly on pasta and have them wrap it up to go. Now, with your boxed food, you walk happily to go back to your room only to pause when there’s a sport car filled with hot guys zooming through you.

You notice a lot of people have their eyes glued on the car, or maybe the guys in it. You don’t know them, but one of them seriously looks cute. You locked eyes for a second and you swore you love him at first sight.

“Woah, last time there were girls zooming around in their opened-cabriole cars and now guys too. Guess summer is really near.” You shrug your shoulder and continue to walk.

You pass by the car again but this time it is parked and the four guys are just chilling around their cars. Sipping on some cold energy drinks while giggling and tossing light smiles to the people passing by.

“Who are you looking at young boy?” The man behind the wheels earlier nudges the boy who has his eyes glued on you.

“Um no one-“ he stammers before turning away to look at his feet and feeling his ears burn.

“Oh I see, some freshman I guess-“ the guy with a Japanese accent teases the younger boy.

“Where? I wanna see too!” the smallest one between the three extends his neck to look around.

Their actions bring the crowd’s attention, and you realize you should keep walking. Why were you stopping in first place?

So, without much thought you continue to walk down your road while humming to your music.

“Stop staring,” the guy who’s looking at his feet finally speaks up.

“Why Jaehyun? You’re shy?” The tallest, Johnny aka guy behind wheel, pokes his cheek.

Jaehyun turns red “Nah, I don’t know her. She just passed by and I locked eyes with her.”

“Don’t worry, if Yuta saw her he will know her name.” Taeyong puts a hand over Yuta’s shoulder “Right Yuta?” he asks to clarify his statement.

Yuta nods “If only you justified if that was the girl you’re staring, I may have her name tomorrow.” Yuta plays with his phone.

Jaehyun sighs “Come on, this school is big… there’s no way you’ll get her name.” he hugs his three friends’ shoulders and sighs “Guess that will be the first and last time I see her.”

Johnny clicks his tongue “So dramatic. Duhh, I know how to see her.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen “How?”

Taeyong giggles “She went that way, there’s only three houses there. We can just hang around there and see her if she goes out of her building. It’s that simple Jae, don’t be so sad.” Taeyong pats his shoulder and jumps into the car.

“Come on, we have a bowling match tomorrow might want to practice a little bit before the game.” Taeyong calls his other friends into the car and once they’re all in, Johnny hits the road again with high speed to show off his car and the guys inside.

You finish your dinner and clean up your room already. In an hour or two, you’ll wrap up your task and readings then maybe take a rest because tomorrow is a big day. You got more classes to suffer and some dance class to attend.

Your mind flashes back the image of the cute guy seating in the back seat of the sports car earlier. His dimple, his carefree smile and his fluffy wind-blown hair looks perfect. Oh you really wish you can see him one more time.

He doesn’t look like he belongs in your major, man like him probably is an athlete or studies something related to business or sports.

“Come on come to your senses (y/n)! What are the odds he meet you again? Even if he sees you, he won’t notice or realize you’re there.” You try to burry your hope by reminding yourself boys like him belong to the pretty girls with long legs. Unlike you, totally you’re way out of his league.

That night you dream of a fortunate encounter with the mysterious guy and he gives you his name. Weird how you cannot remember his name at all when you wake up, but the day is running and you need to wake up and face reality. He is a prince charming and you’re no Cinderella.

“I told you, I can get her name by today.” Yuta proudly shows Jaehyun and the guys an Instagram profile.

“Wait whoah you really did.” Taeyong says after examining the profile picture because of the private account.

“How did you?” Jaehyun stops asking when his eyes accidentally spot you coming into the room.

“Am I seeing things or is she really here?” Jaehyun whispers to his friends and Johnny gives him a smack “Hurts? It’s real. I see her too.”

Yuta chuckles “Come on, I see her walking to this place and thought maybe she’s here this afternoon. So, I made a quick run through the participant list and look up one by one.”

“Thank you- but oh I am so fortunate to see her again.” Jaehyun is literally having his moment. If this is a drama he’d have romantic bgm and flower petals falling out of nowhere. But this is the bowling room in the campus and it’s far from romantic. Especially when the judge calls for the competitor to get ready.

“Good luck there bro, focus on the game not on the girl.” His friends tease him before leaving to sit in the spectator seat.

You tie your bowling shoes and pick out your own ball. Polishing it and feeling it with your hand before bumping into someone’s sturdy chest.

“Oh- sorry.” You mutter an apology before looking up and freezing in place when you lock eyes with the same man you’ve been dying to see again.

“You-“ he turns pink.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to bump you. Please don’t kill me.” You beg for him

He chuckles “I will not kill you, but if you want my apology…” he trails off and bends a little bit to see your face closer “Give me your name.”

You turn red now and you feel your face heat up “It’s (y/n)”

He smiles and reaches out his hand “Jaehyun, nice to meet you (y/n)” he shakes your hand and you grin. This is awkward…

“I saw you yesterday on the car. Nice car.” You whisper after both of you sit down to wait for your turns.

Jaehyun nods “Wasn’t my car sadly, but it’s my friend’s.” he points to the three guys enjoying pizza on the spectator bench. You only nod, his friends all look hot.

“So, bowling eh? Good at it?” you ask him when it’s almost his turn. Jaehyun stands up and wears his bowling glove “Good? I just pick this up as a new hobby and I join this to look for new friends.” He gets up to his lane and picks his ball before posing nicely and hits a strike.

You smirk, not bad. He has some talent.

Jaehyun returns after his turn is over and it’s yours now.

“What about you?” he asks

You sweetly smile “Watch and see,”

Jaehyhun notices how you change. Your posture is different, and your gaze definitely burns hole to the wall. He secretly has to control his heartbeat from going up when he sees you hit a strike.

You’re not a newbie, he notices that

“Great posture, accurate and precise.” Jaehyun offers a high-five and you take it.

“Well, thank you that came from years of practice. Pleasure to be your competitor tonight, I am (y/n) the school’s official bowling team leader.” You wink and Jaehyun feels his heart burst into million pieces.

How can you be so cute and so attractive at the same time? Plus what, you’re the bowling athlete team? Hot.

He sure is going to brag on you to his friends, but most importantly he’ll win your number first after the hot tight match. He’s glad Johnny forced him to sign up for this competition, and he’s glad he has the courage to talk with you.

“So, nice game and you’re really good.” Jaehyun nudges your shoulder when the game ends with you winning.

You grin “Oh yeah? Well, what do I get for winning?” you playfully tease him.

He knits his eyebrow for a while before grinning “Do you want my number? We can have lunch together or dinner someday.” He offers you his suggestion and you feel your cheek burns.

“Sure, yes I’d love that.” You gulp and type in your number to his phone.

“Okay, I’ll text you my number so you can save it.” He winks and turns his head around when his friends call him

“I got to go, do you want to go back to your dorm with us?” he offers you a ride but as much as you want to, you know not to accept rides from stranger easily.

You shake your head “I will go with them,” you point to a new group of friends living in the same building you just met earlier.

Jaehyun nods coolly “Okay, text me when you got home.” He points to your phone that lights up with a message from him.

You smile and wave your hand as you walk to the other friends “Bye Jaehyun! It was nice meeting you.”

Turns out yesterday was not the first and last time he sees you.

end

#multifandomnet #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x you #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun oneshot #nct oneshot #nct fluff #nct flirt line #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun college au #nct college au #nct x reader #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun x you

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #414

“mirror, mirror, tell me who you see / am i you or me? / i can never remember”

How many people have you kissed? Four. Ever kissed someone you weren’t dating at the time? No. Of the people you’ve kissed, how many do you regret kissing? Two. Ever been kissed by a legal adult when you were a minor (or vise-versa)? Yeah, with Jason, but it was only a two-year difference. Ever kissed someone on a dare/as part of a game? No. Where’s the most public place you’ve ever made out with someone? Nowhere public. I wouldn't do that. Can you snowboard? Never tried. Have you ever made a mixed cd for someone? No. Do you use recycle bins at your house? Yes. Do you own more than one bathing suit? No. Have you ever kissed someone who smokes weed? Jason did occasionally with his best friend, but he stopped for me. How are you right this second? I'm all right. Last night was pretty rough, so I'm just glad that's over. My body is just tired. Is there anything you disliked about your last birthday? Honestly, I barely remember what I did on my last birthday. I just remember it was fine. Oh wait, actually, on the way home from going out to eat, we had to call the cops while behind a car whose driver was obviously drunk or high OFF. HIS. ASS. He was swerving like crazy and almost hit SO many cars. I was having an absolute panic attack. I pray to God that guy was more than just found and fined. Do you keep a diary or journal (offline or online)? No, unless you count surveys, I guess. What were you like a year ago? I was the unhappily the same. Is someone on your mind right now? Fucking always. Having a warm dream about him last night didn't help. Who was the last person you sat next to? My mom. What do you currently hear right now? My screen is split so I can watch John Wolfe play some indie horror games. What’s something you need to go shopping for? I need to get new bras baaaadly because I'm tired of none fitting properly. What’s the last thing you ate? I had a donut 'cuz Mom stopped at Dunkin' for coffee. Do/did you do good in school? I did up to college. Then I just... sucked. Do you always get along with your siblings? I mean I don't see/talk to them every day or anything, not even very regularly even, but we generally get along fine now as adults. We disagree about shit for sure, but keep our mouths shut. Or probably talk to Mom about it while I'm not present. I don't even think they like me half of the time. Are you frustrated with anything? So much. Why did you fall for the last person romantically? There were/are a lot of factors. Just she as a person is phenomenal. What’s your younger sibling’s name? Nicole. Can you speak in a different language conversationally; if so, which language? A tiny bit of German. Do you ever fear of falling asleep? With my nightmares, I used to dread it. Now, thankfully, my APAP mask has prevented them from happening, mostly; I've only had two in the month that I've had it, and I ordinarily had them every single night. Do you have an idea of what kind of profession you’d like to have? I do, but I honestly doubt I'm going to succeed in even making it a part-time job by this damn point. Which beach would you say is your favorite? I don't have a favorite. I don't even like the beach very much. What kind of cookie is your favorite? Chocolate chip. Have you ever had a churro? Yes. Too crunchy and ridiculously sweet, not a fan. Truth be told, are you more into looks or personalities the most? A good personality beats good looks any day. How is/was your chemistry class in high school? I actually didn't take chemistry; my graduating year, physical science was offered as the alternative, which I took. How does alcohol affect you? I get hot, and my face flushes badly. It'll make me more talkative. Have you ever tried lemon brownies? No, and I don't want to. I don't like lemon-flavored stuff like that. What was the last type of meat you ate? Beef. Have you taken any medication today? I have prescriptions I take every day. Have you ever watched Parks and Recreation? I've seen some of it at Sara's house. What is your favourite kind of pasta? Just spaghetti with tomato sauce and meatballs, really. I've been on a major chicken pesto kick lately, though. Have you set an alarm today? No. Think of a random person, and give them a message here, no names: Literally just the chance to say "I'm sorry" would be fucking amazing. Just two fucking words. What if there were two of you? Would the world be in trouble? No. That'd be a waste of space, though. Not like I'm contributing much to society. Would you prefer an ice cream sundae or an ice cream cone? I dunno man, it depends on my mood and what I want in the moment. Do you watch movies with the subtitles on? No; I find it to be distracting. Is the last person you kissed yours? I hate this saying. She's her own person that belongs to nobody but herself. But to just go along with it and answer the question, no, we're not together. Do you think you will be married by the time you are 25? Welp, I'm halfway through 25, so. Do you have siblings over the age of 21? All of my siblings are. Do you have a hard time admitting you’re wrong? No. Especially as I've aged, I'd say I'm pretty quick to accept if I've fucked up. Who has the ability to hurt you the most emotionally? Jason will probably always have that power, even if he's not in my life. Would you ever be a stripper? God no, nobody wants to see that. What are your plans for tomorrow? Just get through the day, man. Do you owe anybody money? No. How would your parents describe you? Reserved, shy, a deep thinker, animal lover, uhhhh... What is the most you have ever weighed? Let's not. Would you ever work at McDonald's? No. I'm never working in food service. If you aren't already, would you go vegetarian or vegan? I want to be a vegetarian and being a vegan would be perfectly ideal for me, but I really don't think I can healthily accomplish either. I am FAR too picky to where I'd almost definitely become malnourished. To make it even worse I absolutely cannot "suck it up" if I don't like a food, so it's not like I could choke down stuff I don't like. Not to mention I'd be pretty sad without any yummy food to look forward to, aha. Coolest person you've ever met? Uhhhh I don't know. Do you wear boxers? No. Girls, how old were you when you first learned how to put in a tampon? I don't remember. Would you ever attend a gay pride parade or festival? I would absolutely love to. Did you see Paranormal Activity 2? I think I've seen all of the movies. I liked them, given paranormal horror films are probably my fave. What would you do if an old man grabbed your ass? Kick him in the fucking balls so goddamn fast and probably slap him across the face at the same time. Probably cry later from feeling violated and having my fear of men aggravated. Do you like moustaches? It depends on the person, but I'd say I generally prefer an attached beard and a mustache versus JUST a mustache. Could you hack into someone's computer if you tried hard enough? No. I have no idea how to do that. Have you ever smoked a cigar? No. Do you go out on Black Friday? Hell no. NOT worth fighting people for deals. Do you have curtains in your bedroom? No; I have those blinds that you can close upwards or downwards. Did you like the Spice Girls when you were little? Yeah, I did. Can you sing the entire Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song? I think I can. Do you get heartburn? I'm literally on an antacid prescription, or else I get insane heartburn every day. Are you scared of elevators? To a moderate degree, yes. I'm terrified of it getting stuck. Have you ever seen a dead body in person? Yes, at an open-casket wake. Have you ever seen The Goonies? I have. If you're white, do you ever wish you were black? Or vice versa? I'm fine being Caucasian, but ultimately don't care. Do you bake cookies all the time around Christmas? I don't bake. Do you like your hair pulled? Uhhh... I'm assuming you mean this in a suggestive context, in which case no. Never pull my hair, actually. What kind of jeans do you like? Ripped skinny jeans. What do you think is overrated? Who really cares. Let people enjoy what they enjoy. And what are your goals for the remainder of this year? Lose lots of weight, find a job, get back into old hobbies and develop new ones... Name a city that starts with A in your state/province etc. Asheboro. Name a landmark that starts with M in your state/province etc. I'm blanking right now. When was the last time you gave a horse a carrot? Been years. I think I've only done that once, and I can't even remember where it was. Have you ever had to shovel snow? No. How many seasons is your favorite TV show in so far? MM was just revived for its fifth season! :') Where would you most like to go in your state, etc. that you haven’t been? NC actually has this really old Wizard of Oz theme park! It's on the other end of the state, though, and NC is one wiiiiiide state. What was the last bird you saw? A robin, I think. What color was the last thing you drank? Green. Has a wild animal ever been loose in your house? Besides insects, no. Well wait, scratch that, once or twice we had a small mice problem when we lived in the woods. What’s the name of the bookstores in your city? The only one I know off the top of my head is Books-a-Million. Where do your parents live? I live with my mom, and Dad lives in the same city as us. Have you ever seen or touched an iceberg? No, but that would be cool. What colour are your father’s eyes? Brown. If your ex turned up on your doorstep now, with nowhere else to go, would you let him/her stay? Well one, this isn't my house, so I can't make that decision. My mom being who she is though, she'd let pretty much anyone stay the night. If it was Sara, Mom would let her stay as long as she needed. The last time you cried, was it connected with someone of the opposite sex? Ugh, yes. My PTSD was BAD last night. Delicious warm brownies or a giant cookie? I'll take the brownie. Have you visited a haunted building or area before? No, but damn I'd love to. Have you been to North Carolina? Ayyyyeeeee that's my home.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''disguise'' by motionless in white

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tranquilstudy · 5 years ago

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a small guide to independent learning ۜ\(סּںסּَ` )/ۜ

so, I guess with everyone stuck at home now, a lot of classes have since been moved online, and we’re kind of on our own in terms of learning the materials. The profs are trying their hardest to provide proper lecture materials, but at least with my university largely being made up of international students that have difficulties with time zone differences, it’s been tough for everyone. So, as my first official text post to this studyblr, I wanted to give you guys my quick run-down on tips I’ve picked up with my experiences in the past month, and onward with my spring course.

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get yourself into a routine...if that’s what works for you. Now, I’ve seen a lot of studyblr posts like this say that you MUST find yourself working in a routine in order to see the most success from independent learning. If your classes are live, this especially makes the most sense; just build your day around the classes you have to attend online. However, for people like me with pre-recorded lectures, I would say only invest in making a routine if it genuinely aids in your day and productivity level. I know for me, I definitely find getting ready at a certain time and waking up/going to sleep at a certain time helps my productivity, but other than that, I just have a loose list of things I can get to whenever i feel like it during the day. I find that, as long as you have a good amount of discipline, you’ll know what level of strictness for a routine works for you.

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a note on discipline... I found this super interesting. I made a post to my original blog @wistful-suggestion that said that if you don’t pick up a new hobby during this quarantining period you didn’t lack time, you lacked discipline. Someone quickly sent me an ask saying that they found this post discouraging, saying that it seemed to be mocking people that have lost motivation during this period. So I thought I’d clarify that when I say “you need more discipline” it doesn’t mean forcing yourself out of bed, or forcing a smile on your face. Some days will just not be good days, and we just have to breathe and say “I’m allowed to feel whatever I feel. It’s okay if I can’t be as productive today as I want to be. If I’m feeling better tomorrow, I’ll work.” Keeping that promise to yourself is discipline. It’s about acceptance of what is, but gently encouraging yourself to be better every day. It’s not forceful. It’s a work in progress, and it has to be there every day. You have to be there for yourself every day, especially when it’s so easy to get lost down a rabbit hole of not anything one day, and then one day becomes two, becomes three... Discipline is seeing all you can be, even if today doesn’t work out. Discipline is being on your own side.

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take care of yourself. This I’ve been talking about a bit already, but eat good food, and get lots of sleep. Take care of your hygiene and make sure your work spaces are clean. Light a candle, turn on your diffuser. Drink some water, for heaven’s sake!

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separate the time to focus with the time to relax. This can include putting your phone away or getting rid of other distractions when it’s time to focus, doing your focused work in another room (not on your bed, at least), and using apps and extensions like Microsoft ToDo and Forest to organize what you plan on doing during your focused periods and how long you’re gonna do them for. Take breaks, and spend your relaxation time doing something you love.

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remind yourself that it’s okay to be frustrated with what’s going on right now, and it’s okay to be struggling. this is a scary time! and there’s a lot of unknowns, and the fact that you’re still here learning and growing yourself and your mind is incredible. just that is incredible. so be proud of yourself, even when it’s hard to get out of bed.

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I know those are only a few tips and tricks, but I hope they were helpful. If you guys wanna see any more of this type of content from me and have suggestions, lemme know my shooting me an ask. Love you all, take care of yourselves.

@tranquilstudy <3

send me more suggestions here! or just come by and say hi ^-^

#study hard #study vault #studygram #study motivation #studyblr #studyspiration #studyspo #study tips #studystudystudy #studywithme

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ahgasescenarios · 5 years ago

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Hold the Line- Mark Lee

Word count: 1.6k

Genre: fluff

Summary: “He had fallen in love with football at the age of ten where you sought comfort in Vermeer’s, Watteau’s and the like. And sometimes, your two worlds clashed.”

Being born into a wealthy family had its pros and cons. The luxury around you spoke tales of limitless riches, a constant reminder of your worth (and social standing). It also reminded her of the golden ankle monitor at her feet with parents overlooking her every move like perched eagles. The times when they’d feed words into her mouth to impress investors and affiliates during events, the watchful eyes of the staff making sure she behaved to her title’s worth, not to forget the constitution of house rules which forbade her from staying out too late, eating certain foods (you’re polluting your body!, her mother would say) and wearing certain clothes. Over the years, you had come to the conclusion that nothing in life was free, even wealth came with the burden of reputation; one wrong move and you could lose everything. Or at least that’s what those eagle-minded parents of yours had reminded you on countless occasions.

But none of it mattered when you were with your best friend Mark. He was the eldest son of an affiliated business of her father’s, which made him a suitable choice for an amicable relationship. Your parents’ approval was a given, reinforcing the links between your families was a win-win situation. You were thankful to have him regardless because what they didn’t tell you about being rich is how awfully lonely it was. Especially when your parents were too busy carefully building their way to the top to pay attention to you.

“Bored?” Mark questioned on the other line. You always called him when you were bored, it was bordering a tradition now- hence why he knew the reason for your call.

“Please help.” You pouted.

“Consider it done. Meet me at our café in 10.”

“I’ll be there.”

You couldn’t fight the smile that tugged on your lips. Your friendly dates with Mark were your favorite, mostly because it allowed you to escape the dungeon that was your NYC penthouse. Okay, maybe you were exaggerating, but still fresh air mended your overstimulated brain.

You weighed the pros and cons of what felt like every outfit in your closet, which is when your mother decided to invite herself in.

“What are you doing?”

“Going out for coffee with Mark, is that okay?” You asked, sarcasm heavy on your tongue. She merely shrugged.

“Wear that limited-edition Burberry coat I got you, it’s cold outside.” With a final pursed-lipped smile, she left your room. This was her way of caring, you had learned early on.

You left for your outing of the day with a bounce in your step, feeling oddly energized at the thought of seeing your best friend. Upon laying eyes on him, you waved, and he motioned for you to join him. One thing about Mark was that he was undeniably attractive, the kind of heartthrob that magazines begged to have on the cover, so the whole world could fawn over, thinking: Why can’t I look like that? Vivid memories of Mark trying to eat bugs and picking his nose duped you into believing you were immune to his charm.

Carefully crafted drinks were awaiting your arrival on a polished marble table, leafy designs gracing the froth. It only took a mention of your name for the baristas to associate the drink to the face here. You both had fallen in love with the antique décor the café adorned, reminiscent of the Victorian Era. There was something about the atmosphere that made you feel at peace, as though you belonged to a different reality. And you welcomed the feeling with outstretched arms, one you could not find anywhere else.

Quickly enough, you fell into the casual rhythm you had become accustomed to in the presence of the younger boy (only by a few months! he’d insist). You savored every sip of your drink, the perfect balance of frothy milk and espresso with hints of chocolate and hazelnut providing you with the fuel you craved.

While you and Mark were alike in many ways, you differed in choice of hobbies or passions. He had fallen in love with football at the age of ten where you sought comfort in Vermeer’s, Watteau’s and the like. And sometimes, your two worlds clashed. Today was one of those days.

“Oh, come on, why won’t you come to my game today?” Mark was growing impatient; you could hear it through the phone.

“I told you, I have to finish a painting for my Renaissance class.”

“Fine.” He was on the verge of hanging up when:

“Okay, okay, fine. I’ll come. But you owe me.”

Your hands massaged your temples therapeutically, why had you agreed? You hated going to his football games, you didn’t even know why you bothered to attend most of the time. He wouldn’t notice if you were in the bleachers or not. But you were a woman of your word and so you went, cursing yourself throughout the entire game.

Your mind acted as a painful reminder of the workload you’d had to catch up on during the night thanks to your sudden change of heart. Why had you said yes? You pondered the thought in your mind for a while, your eyes trained on the familiar silhouette on the field. Mark’s team was in the lead, that much you knew.

You found your eyes more than following the figure in the distance, but actually studying how his thighs were outlined by the fabric of his thoughts, mind traveling to places it had never dared to go before. Why were you just now noticing how handsome he looked with his brows furrowed in concentration? Were you just now noticing how nicely his tights outlined his strong thighs? Was it that you weren’t immune to him? Did you -god forbid- feel attracted to your best friend? You brushed those thoughts away as soon as they popped into your head, but they couldn’t help but linger in the depths of your mind where they had been dismissed.

A few weeks passed with these same thoughts lingering in your subconscious, which made you act significantly different with Mark. And as your luck would have it, he noticed.

“What’s up with you?”

“Huh, what?” You feigned innocence.

“You’re acting all weird around me. Did I do something?”

“No, you’re fine. I’m just…” your mind worked on overdrive trying to come out with a plausible excuse, “Oh look at that, I’m late. Gotta go!” You made a beeline for the exit, hopping into your personal driver’s shiny Mercedes before Mark could utter a word in response. Your behavior only worried him further, but an inkling of a thought popped into his head. Could it be?

“Hi.” There he was at your door, in head-to-toe Gucci as he invited himself inside. It had been a week since you’d embarrassingly left him hanging at the café, hurrying off in your chauffeur’s vehicle. You hated to admit how much seeing Mark in the flesh made you happy, a shit-eating grin overtaking your delicate features and those annoying butterflies batting their wings in your stomach. He cleared his throat before announcing the reason for his visit.

“So, um, I have this really big game tomorrow and I would really like it if you came.” Your heart dropped in your stomach; butterflies now annihilated.

“What?” His eyes widened, taken aback. “We haven’t talked in a week and the only reason you’re here is to ask me to come to your game? I’m sorry, but no, not this time.”

“What’s your problem? I said I wanted you to come, why are you being such a bitch about it?”

You huffed in outrage. Now he was pushing your buttons.

“A bitch! Wow, that’s classy.” You paused before looking straight at him, fuming. “Have you ever considered that I don’t like going to your games?”

“Oh, you mean where you sit in the bleachers and stare into the abyss, just waiting for the game to be over? Would it kill you to show more support?”

“Oh, like those cheerleaders with their underwear excuse for costumes just begging to get into your pants? No thank you.” The pang of jealousy in your voice didn’t go unnoticed. “The only reason I bother coming is because I want to see you and spend time with you.”

“You know how it is, (Y/N), I can’t miss a single game this season. It’s important to me.” His expression was resolute, asking for compassion.

“I know, I just thought I was too.” You smiled, tears fogging your eyesight. You turned to go back into your room but a hand on your wrist stopped you from doing so. “Please just leave me alone, Mark.”

“Why are you so upset about this?” Mark’s face was begging for an answer, the one he wanted, needed to hear.

“Are you really that dense?” You inquired. He didn’t move an inch, breath caught in his throat. You took a deep breath and let it all flood out, what you’d been keeping to yourself for the past weeks spent half-heartedly thinking about your friendship.

“I’m upset because I’m in love with you, Mark. And you clearly don’t feel the same so please let me go before-“ As if on cue, the same hand holding onto your wrist spun you around and before he or you could process what was going on, Mark connected your lips in a passionate kiss. The confusion only lasted a second as you melted into his embrace, the butterflies claiming their place in your stomach.

“Well, I think you’re the one who’s dense because I’ve been crushing on you since the seventh grade.” His eyes were glowing with something you’d never seen in them before, and you leaned in to peck his cheek.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to tag along to his games if this would be your reward. You smiled to yourself as your lips tingled. For once, you felt free. If there was someone you were ready to risk it all for, it was Mark. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

a/n: hii, I hope you guys enjoyed this fluffy Mark scenario! It occurred to me that I hadn’t written much for him and I had to do something about it. Also, thank you so so so much for 700 followers I just can’t believe so many people enjoy my work!! Once I hit 750 followers, I’ll be doing some sort of “get to know me” tag so if there’s anything you want to know about me, don’t be shy! 😊

masterlist

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krat395 · 4 years ago

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Laughing With Integrity (Chapter 1)

Happy early Mother's Day, everyone! :) And to celebrate, here is a story featuring Izzy (Integrity) and her adopted mother, Heidi (the Snowdin Innkeeper)! :D Yes, after all this time, Izzy, a character that's only been mentioned up until this point, is finally making an actual appearance in one of my stories! ;P Same goes for her adopted mother, Heidi! To everyone that read my "Rabbits! X3" journal on DeviantArt, I told you she would appear in a story before Grillby! ;) She's so underrated! She and all of those other rabbit monsters are so underrated! Though especially Heidi (my headcanon name for her)! And after all this time, she's finally receiving the attention she deserves! She and Izzy both! Haha! Enjoy, my friends; and don't be afraid to leave feedback! :)

Undertale(c) Toby Fox.

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Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

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LAUGHING WITH INTEGRITY

Chapter 1: Izzy (and Heidi)! :D

It is a Friday afternoon; early November; and on this particular afternoon, a little human girl named Izzy is currently resting in her home on the Surface after a productive day of school. Izzy; short for Isabella; possesses a blue Integrity soul, which symbolizes her trait of Integrity. As for her personality and appearance, she is a kind-hearted, fun-loving, flirty (like Frisk), and tomboyish 10-year-old girl; Caucasian; with long, straight, and naturally blonde hair whose hobbies consist of things such as dancing, bicycling, gaming, painting her nails, and throwing/attending slumber parties. As for her everyday attire; she doesn't wear a pink tutu and ballet shoes everywhere she goes contrary to popular belief. She mostly just wears those when she does ballet, which she took up due to her love of dancing. But outside of ballet however, she is often seen wearing tank tops with jeans and flip-flops; her most common attire being a pink and blue striped tank top with dark blue jeans and pink flip flops. One thing worth mentioning about Izzy is that she LOVES showing off her feet to everyone, especially when her toes have nail polish on them! Blue nail polish is her favorite and to show off her feet, she wears flip-flops, which she has at least five pairs of but the pink ones she’s often seen in are her favorite. But if her feet were more durable like that of most monsters however, then she'd go everywhere with bare feet instead. The only thing Izzy likes more than wearing flip flops is wearing no footwear at all and she sure does a splendid job making everyone fully aware of that every time she announces that she's removing her footwear; saying things such as, "Get off my feet, flip flops!" and "Freedom… for my feet!" XD It's the first thing she does upon entering her house and/or others' houses; usually when arriving home from school or just after being outside in general. She's a funny little girl like that and a real cutie too. A real cutie! X3 One look at her and you wouldn't believe that she was one of six humans that had their souls taken from them in the Underground!

Another thing worth mentioning about Izzy is that she is Brad and Justin's cousin; Brad (Bravery) by adoption and Justin (Justice) by blood; and like her cousins, she was one of a handful of humans that was miraculously resurrected after the destruction of the Barrier one month ago. Also like her cousins, she was immediately adopted by rabbit monsters; in Izzy's case, Heidi, the former SNOWDIN INNKEEPER, and her husband, Harvey. After hearing so much about Izzy from Brad during the three months he spent as a member of her family in the Underground, Heidi dreamed of one day adopting Izzy if she had survived after being separated from Brad and Justin. Izzy was not fortunate enough to survive during her time in the Underground though, much to Heidi's devastation. But once Izzy was miraculously resurrected however, Heidi became overjoyed with happiness and immediately took her in as part of her own family; just like her sister, Harriet (the former Snowdin Shopkeeper), did with Brad and Justin.

Ever since last month, Izzy has been living happily with a family of rabbit monsters on the Surface and her new family members consist of adopted mother Heidi, adopted father Harvey, and 3 adopted siblings; an older brother named Bastian, a younger sister named Bekah (short for Rebekah), and a baby sister named Bebe; and over the course of just one month, Izzy managed to win all of their hearts; even the heart of one particular family member she wishes she could bond a little better with. Yes, in Izzy's new family, there's one family member that she hasn't properly bonded with yet; and that family member is her adopted brother, Bastian, who is four and half months older than her. Bastian, an 11-year-old rabbit monster with all-white fur, is the youngest student in Toriel's 6th grade class. He's a nice boy; getting along with almost everyone he interacts with; but is someone that has difficulty accepting major changes in his life. An example of this was when he and his family moved to the Surface a month ago. Bastian was one of the few monsters that didn’t want to move to the Surface after the Barrier was destroyed. But not just that though; he was also one of the few monsters that actually didn't mind living in the Underground; and during his time there, he often accompanied Heidi whenever she was running her inn. He loves his mother very much and is a bit of a mama's boy himself, which Heidi doesn't entirely mind. Heidi loves him back with all her heart and soul and if it wasn't for her patience, guidance, and kind and loving nature towards him, Bastian would not be the happy child he is today on the Surface. But not everything is perfect however. After moving to the Surface, Bastian has had difficulty making friends with human children, whom he doesn’t appear to realize aren’t all that different from monster children in terms of personality, and his cousin, Heather, Harriet's daughter and a lavender rabbit monster who is in the same grade as him, can only do so much to help him in that regard. So, that's where Izzy, a human girl, comes in. If Bastian can bond better with his adopted human sister, then there's a chance that Izzy might be able to help him feel more comfortable around humans as a whole; and Heidi believes that she knows just the thing that will help Izzy win him over. It can't hurt for Izzy to try, anyway. But unfortunately for her, she's going to have to wait until tomorrow since Bastian currently isn’t present in the house, which is connected to an all new Inn that Heidi runs for a living. Instead, Bastian is out with his father and sisters meeting his father’s new human friend, Elwood, who Izzy and Heidi have already met, and won't be back until tomorrow. That's right; the majority of Izzy's adopted family isn't home during this particular afternoon; nobody except for Izzy's adopted mother, Heidi, a thin 36-year-old female rabbit monster with pink fur and always bare 3-toed feet, who is often seen wearing sleeveless knee-length dresses; primarily a yellow one with 2 blue stripes (one at the top around her neck and one in the middle around the waist). X3 Not that Izzy minds. She loves her adopted mother very much and this afternoon will provide her a perfect opportunity to ask her what she can do to bond better with Bastian.

4:00pm, Friday, early November...

Heidi: Ah. Good to be home. *said Heidi to herself as she entered her home; from one of the side entrances (the one that leads to her inn)* Hmm… Is Izzy here?

Not even one second later, Heidi's question was answered the moment she saw Izzy's pink flip flops on the floor near the front entrance, indicating that Izzy was barefoot somewhere in the house.

Heidi: (Heeheeheeheehee. She most certainly is.) Izzy! *shouted Heidi, seconds before hearing a little girl's voice in her living room*

Izzy: In here, Mom! I'd come out and give you a hug but my toenails need to dry first.

At this very moment, Izzy is sitting on a couch; in an upright position on the middle cushion; in the living room watching television with her bare feet resting on a footrest, which Izzy covered with a towel before she began painting her toenails.

Heidi: Heeheeheeheehee. Oh, Izzy; painting your nails again? *asked Heidi with a smile as she walked into the living room to greet her adopted daughter* Didn't you paint them last night, sweetie?

Izzy: Heeheehee. Yeah; my fingernails! A while ago, I painted my toenails! Heeheeheeheeheehee! Aren’t they pretty? *Izzy asked cheekily while wiggling each of her ten little toes slightly; being careful not to ruin her nail polish while it was drying* Heeheeheeheeheehee~!

Heidi: Heeheeheehee! They most certainly are! Pretty just like you! *answered Heidi, pinching Izzy’s left cheek*

Izzy: Heeheeheeheehee! Mooooooooom! Heeheeheeheeheehee~!

Heidi: Heeheeheeheeheehee! Oh, you know you love it. Heeheeheeheehee! So, what would you like to do tonight, my dear? We have the house all to ourselves. Any ideas?

Izzy: Yes, actually. I was thinking that maybe we could chat a little. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.

Heidi: Oh? And what would that be, my dear?

Izzy: Well, first off, I just want to say how grateful I am to be part of this family. You’ve all been so wonderful to me… and Justin and Brad; you, Dad, Bastian, Bekah, Bebe, Aunt Harriet, Benny, Robbie, and Heather; all of you. We couldn’t ask for better adopted families. *stated Izzy sincerely, causing Heidi to tear up a little and hug her*

Heidi: Oh, Izzy. *sniffles* The pleasure is all ours; and we all love you kids very, very much.

Izzy: Awww! And we love you, Mom. …Oh, but I just wish I could bond better with Bastian though! After one month, I’m still not entirely sure that he loves me the way you, Dad, Bekah, and Bebe all do!

Heidi: *shocked gasp* Oh, Izzy; please don’t ever say things like that! Of course Bastian loves you the way your father, sisters, and I do! *assured Heidi, shocked after hearing what Izzy just told her*

Izzy: A-are you sure? *asked Izzy, somewhat doubting Heidi*

Heidi: Of course I’m sure! I know that boy better than anyone else! Just give him some more time, all right? He’ll come around.

Izzy: But what if he never does though? Mom, there has to be something I can do to get him to like me more! There just has to be! *shouted Izzy, tearing up a little, which in turn made Heidi stop acting so defensive*

Heidi: Hmm… Well, there is one thing that might work, sweetie; actually 3 things.

Izzy: *excited gasp* There are?! Really?! Oh my gosh! Could you tell me, please? I’ve been trying to figure out this mystery for a month! An entire month!

Izzy is feeling rather insecure about herself this afternoon. It's not like her to feel so insecure but who can blame her? Bastian is her adopted brother and he's never himself whenever he interacts with her! Around Harvey, Bekah, Bebe, and especially Heidi, he's very enthusiastic and quite the joy to be around! And pretty funny too; telling jokes and pulling harmless pranks on others; all with a big smile on his face! "Why doesn't he act that way around me?" Izzy often wonders to herself. It could be because he's shy around Izzy. It could be because he's still having a difficult time adjusting to having an adopted sister that isn't the same species as him. Who knows? But whatever the case is, it doesn't stop Izzy from wondering what she can do to fully earn his trust and after one month, Heidi feels that it's finally time to suggest something that might just do the trick. To earn Bastian's trust, Heidi feels that Izzy should TICKLE HIM. Lots! If there's one thing that Bastian loves almost as much as his own family, it's being tickled; and the spot he always wants to receive the most attention is his feet; his white, always bare three-toed feet. He absolutely loves having his feet touched despite how immensely ticklish they are and no matter how much someone tickles them, he won't ever beg them to stop; provided that whoever's tickling him is doing so with good intentions of course. But tickling alone might not be enough to fully earn Bastian's trust though. To really seal the deal, Heidi believes that Izzy should also pet him and consistently tell him that he's cute, which will be easy for Izzy to do since cute is exactly what Bastian is and that she used to have a pet rabbit when she was younger. X3

Izzy: R-really?! That's all?! *asked Izzy all surprised* I wanted to do all three of those things the moment I saw him! But I didn't because I felt that it would’ve been inappropriate… you know, due to my… condition. *she added, referring to her tragic past and miraculous resurrection*

Heidi: Oh, I feel you, my dear. That also happens to be why I didn't suggest that you do those things sooner. I wanted to give you enough time to adjust to your new life here on the Surface with us.

Izzy: And I appreciate that you did too! Thank you!

Heidi: Heeheeheehee. Of course, my dear. *said Heidi lovingly, giving Izzy a kiss on her left cheek*

Izzy: Heeheeheeheeheehee! *Izzy giggled in response*

Heidi: ...So, Izzy, now that you've taken some time to get to know us, I have to ask… are you ticklish yourself? *asked Heidi cheekily, causing Izzy to perk up*

Izzy: *excited gasp* Oh my gosh, yes! Yes, Mom! I am sooooo ticklish! Heeheeheeheeheehee! Oh my gosh! Heeheeheeheeheehee! I'm giggling just thinking about it! Heeheeheeheeheeheehee!

Heidi: Heeheeheeheehee! You are, indeed. And do you like being tickled?

Izzy: Heeheeheeheehee! Maaaaaaaybe! *answered Izzy, teasing Heidi and wiggling her toes slightly in anticipation* Heeheeheeheeheehee~!

Heidi: Heeheeheeheehee! Well that sounds like a yes to me! Brad told me you did but I wanted to hear it from you.

Izzy: Heeheeheehee! Oh he did, did he? *Izzy then asked, feeling nervous all of a sudden*

Heidi: Heeheeheeheehee! Oh, yes. There's lots of things he told me about your ticklishness when he lived in the Underground with us; such as where to tickle to REALLY get you squealing!

Izzy: Eep! Oh my gosh; that little devil! *Izzy shouted in response, pretending to be offended* Well, I can tell you right now that I am most certainly going to punish him sometime for telling you about that! *she added, implying that she will tickle torture Brad sometime; playfully*

Heidi: Heeheeheehee! I bet you will! But can you blame him? *asked Heidi, placing her right hand on Izzy's stomach* You're an incredibly adorable little girl; and I bet you have some of the absolute cutest reactions to tickles in the entire world. *she added, seconds before lightly scribbling her fingers against Izzy's stomach on the outside of her tank top*

Izzy: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! *Izzy squealed, taken completely by surprise* HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *she then laughed adorably, quivering her stomach with every passing second* MOHOHOHOM! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! JUST WHAHAHAT DO YOU THINK YOHOHOHOU'RE DOOHOOHOOING THERE, MOHOHOHOM?! *SQUEAK* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!

Heidi: (*gasp of delight* Oh my g-god! Her reactions are even cuter than I thought! X3) Heeheeheeheehee! Why, I'm tickling you, of course! *Heidi answered with a giggle, right before ending her ticklish assault on Izzy for the time being* Heeheeheehee! And I would very much enjoy doing so some more after your nails dry and after we eat some dinner together; if that's ok with you, Izzy.

Izzy: Heeheeheeheeheehee! Silly rabbit! Of course it is! Heeheeheeheeheehee!

Heidi: Heeheeheehee! Fantabulous, my dear! Heeheeheeheehee!

Heidi is very pleased to find out that what Brad has told her about Izzy's ticklishness is true so far and that she will be tickling Izzy again real soon. From the moment she heard that Izzy was ticklish, how ticklish she is, and that she loves being tickled, Heidi dreamed of one day tickling Izzy herself if she ever met her in person and now that she finally has an opportunity to do so and now that she feels that she's waited long enough, she's going to be sure to take full advantage of it! Plus, it'll be a nice little warm-up for Izzy before tomorrow; because if she tickles Bastian and does a great job of it, then it's very likely that he's going to want to tickle her back. Hehe. ;)

TO BE CONTINUED...

#undertale tickle #undertale tickling #snowdin innkeeper #integrity soul #tickle story #tickle fic

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trashfor-imagines · 5 years ago

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The Music Series: Haikyū!! Edition! | 5

SORRY HAHA I FELL ASLEEP ft. Goshiki x Reader

Summary: A short tale regarding the struggles of young love, being honest about your feelings, and getting out of your own head. Warnings: None. Awkwardness.

Want to get lunch together sometime?

The message felt daunting to respond to. If you responded too quickly, you’d look desperate right? Swiping the notification away, you put your head down on your desk and watched the clock tick away until the seminar was over. The class was Psychology of Art and Creativity and focused on the intersection between art and psychology and explored the connection between insanity and creativity. At the end of the course you were to submit an art piece that expressed you; your emotions and psychological state. You shifted to rest your forehead against the cool surface of your desk and sighed. If you had to create something to turn in at this moment, you’d take a chunk of charcoal and smear it across a blank canvas until you ran out.

How could one simple text message tank your whole mood? It wasn’t even a bad message. You should have been excited. Your crush, Goshiki Tsutomu, asked if you wanted to get lunch sometime. Together. If it weren’t for the other students in class, you’d groan out loud.

Goshiki and you met by chance at the bookstore you worked at. You worked in the café there. It was “crush at first sight” when you spotted him walking in looking for books for his classes. He ordered a latte and the two of you got to chatting. It turned out the two of you were going to attend the same university and after comparing your schedules you actually had a couple of core classes together. Being not the most self confident person, you never thought he’d never be interested in you, but he would visit you at work sometimes, and in your classes you sat together. Then the new semester started; you mostly saw him randomly throughout the week on campus after that, and on weekends he would come by the café for a latte, but other than that it was rare to talk to each other.

You’d just text him on your way to work.

It was 10pm when you finally closed up the café in the bookstore you worked at. It wasn’t far from campus or your apartment, thankfully. Waving to the cashier in the bookstore department, you headed home. Checking your phone, you frowned at the notification on your phone; you still hadn’t texted Goshiki back. Sighing, you shoved your phone back into your purse. It was too late to text him back now; better wait for tomorrow.

A few more days passed like this and it seemed easier and easier to find excuses. You woke up too late and had to rush, or you had to focus on your studies, or you needed to clean, or maybe you needed to take some time to yourself and your hobbies. These things were all critical top priorities and you couldn’t spare a second.

At least that’s what you told yourself.

Are you okay?

You flinched at seeing the follow up text. It’d been four days since the first one and you had honestly hoped he’d let it go by now. Biting your lip, you considered opening the message, but your thumb hovered over the screen and you just couldn’t, deciding it was best to just lock your phone. What if you went to lunch with him and he didn’t like you after getting to know you? Or now that you hadn’t responded, would he even still want to get lunch? He asked if you were okay, so that meant he was concerned right? Your anxiety was bubbling up again. Sinking in your seat, you lightly nibbled on your pen before forcing yourself to put it down, reminding yourself that was a terrible habit.

Taking a deep breath, when class was dismissed, you hurried out of your Art of Preservation class and bee-lined straight for the train station. It was Friday and usually after this class, if you meandered, Goshiki would find you and you could not let that happen. Briskly walking towards the campus entrance, your escape was right there and you felt your shoulders relax and your pace drop to your normal stride. Your heart was just beginning to calm when you turned the corner and ran face first into someone’s backside.

You backed up a few steps and bowed, not even looking at who it was you had run into. “I’m sorry!”

“(Y/N)! I found you.”

It was as if your heart seized in your chest. Nervously, you took a peek and felt the color drain from you face. You could only whisper in response, “Goshiki.”

“I rushed here and decided to wait in case you were at school today.” He seemed like he was holding back from expressing himself in that excited manner you thought was so endearing and sweet. “I’m glad you’re okay, I was worried about you when I didn’t hear back.”

“Oh, yeah I’m sorry I just...,” you paused and laughed lightly, something you did when you were nervous.

“I didn’t do something to upset you, did I?” he asked, eyes wide with some worry.

You immediately waved your hands in front of you, panicked. “No, Goshiki! No! Sorry, haha, I fell asleep; I just forgot to reply.”

“Good, I’m glad.” A look of relief seemed to settle on him, but he still seemed like he was holding back from saying something. A few beats of silence passed between you. You were desperate to get away before this got anymore embarrassing or awkward for you. As you were about to open your mouth, he spoke, eyes downcast and... shy? “(Y/N), if it’s not too much, I’d still really, really like to take you out to lunch. I understand if you don’t want to. I just... really like you!”

Your eyes widened as he seemed to shout that last bit, his voice rushed as he bowed to you deeply, stiff as a board. He shut his eyes tightly and waited for judgement. “Do you... really like me?”

“Yes,” he quickly confirmed, almost shouting.

Your face lit up red as your hand quickly moved up to try and cover your burning hot cheeks and that happy smile that stretched across your face.

“I really like you too, Goshiki.”

tag list: @hihiq

#goshiki tsutomu #goshiki #goshiki x reader #tsutomu #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyū!!#shiratorizawa #fanfic #the music series #one shot #drabble #volleyboys #imagine

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kenganwritings · 5 years ago

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Feeling better today! Gonna be working on some requests soon, and I’ll have at least one up by tomorrow if not today! I had some inspiration for characters and I’m posting them here to share, if anyone is interested ^^

I would draw them, but I’m unfortunately on the same level as Sandrovich drawing Fist of the Seeker LOL

Felix Zhang

Ethnicity: Singaporean (Chinese)

Height: 185cm (about 6′0)

Weight: 85kg (187lbs)

Age: 29

Birthday: May 18th

Appearance: Can be considered as feminine-looking. He has long, dark hair that’s usually tied up. His most prominent feature is his eyes (which he usually highlights with mascara).

Hobby: Looking for nice cafes; makeup

Trivia: Attended the same school as Albert Lee, but didn’t interact with him a lot due to being in different classes.

Nicknamed the ‘Bamboo Prince’, he’s one of the new A-list fighters on Purgatory’s matchup. He uses Wing Chun, a style of kung fu in which the user is relaxed in movements, yet has the strength to fight back. Such a ‘soft’ way of fighting doesn’t sound like it would go far within fighting tournaments, but he has a lot of core strength. Combined with stubbornness, he doesn’t go down easily- like the flexible bamboo, which withstands many storms. He still has trouble fighting heavier, harder-hitting opponents.

Felix’s confident, cool demeanour on the battlefield is immediately flipped 180 degrees as soon as he steps out. He’s air-headed, clumsy, and skittish when talking to people he doesn’t know- even other fighters. He trips over his words so often that it’s really hard to imagine that he’s the same guy who’s considered one of the better fighters in Purgatory.

There’s a scar that runs down from his left shoulder to right hip, as well as a burn scar on his left arm. It comes from being in a car accident when he was younger. While Felix survived, his parents did not; as a result, he was sent to live with his uncle and cousin.

Kourin Zhang

Ethnicity: Singaporean (Chinese-Japanese)

Height: 173cm

Weight: 61kg

Age: 27

Birthday: October 31st

Appearance: Short brown hair, parted to the left. No matter how much she styles it, it somehow always ends up a bit messy. Usually wears ‘tomboy-ish’ outfits, but wants to try wearing girlier outfits sometime (she’s kind of embarrassed about trying it out, though). Nowadays, she’s trying to wear a bit of makeup and jewelry.

Hobby: Dance (hip-hop style)

Trivia: She’s always accompanied by a corgi whom she named Prince Archibald the Second. That’s too long to say though, so she calls him Milo.

Felix’s younger cousin, but honestly with how the guy is, she considers herself more like his older sister. Kourin used to be a fighter in MMA competitions, using Wing Chun much like her cousin. She learned from her father ever since she was young, and found a talent in it. Though Kourin did decently well, she was never able to move past the semi-finals of any competition. As she wondered why, she suddenly developed epilepsy, and was forced to take a break from fighting.

When a Japanese underground tournament scouted Felix to be a fighter, she decided to become his manager of sorts. Because “look at him- I won’t be able to go a day without worrying if he left his phone at home, or if he got the dates right for his matches!” Well, that’s what she says, but in truth, she wanted to see what the underground matches were like. Perhaps she’d get an answer for why she couldn’t advance in her fighting career, and what she can do to change once she returned from her hiatus. When Purgatory scouted Felix and offered better pay, Kourin was the one who urged him to take the offer.

Kourin’s epilepsy dog, Milo, is always with her. When not doing his duties as a service dog, Milo is a friendly corgi who has a habit of stealing food when he knows full well not to do so.

#personal #original characters #kengan ashura #kengan omega

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bts-bringthescenarios · 5 years ago

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Genre: fluff, hints of angst, hints of crack. Pairing: [romantic] female reader + bts!maknae line Contents & Warnings: multiple career!reader, physical contact, swear words, mention of mental health issues.

*** Park Jimin

It had all started with BTS’ increasing concern over Jimin. He seemed to be getting more and more anxious with time. He was such a perfectionist he couldn’t do anything without feeling an intense sense of responsibility: he practiced all the time, he was constantly dieting, he recorded everything countless times until he felt it was close to perfect. If he didn’t achieve the results he strived for, he would become stressed and testy.

One night, Jimin stayed at the BigHit dance practice rooms until very late, going over the same choreography until he felt he had mastered it completely. The trouble was the whole band had spent the entire day practicing, and they were worried Jimin might injure himself if he kept pushing himself so far. So this time they decided to ambush him.

“Okay, music out. This has to stop,” Jin barged in.

“What are you doing? I’m still not confident with the final step sequence!” Jimin protested weakly. Still, he sat down on the ground. He was drenched in sweat and his hands were shaking slightly.

“Then you’ll have to live with the uncertainty,” Hoseok said as he kneeled over Jimin, handing him a bottle of sport beverage.

“You need to rest. Right now,” Taehyung commanded as he sat next to Jimin, eyeing him full of concern.

Jimin downed the bottle, realizing he hadn’t had supper yet, and his lunch had consisted of an apple. He tried to persuade himself that it was best for him to keep practicing, but maybe his brothers were right. He needed to stop.

The next morning they all gathered together with their manager to talk to Jimin about not overexerting himself, and they unanimously decided that he needed to find a new occupation beside the idol life, some way to blow off steam and distract him. They wanted to make sure that his new hobby was laid back, messy and improvisational, so that Jimin could not redirect his perfectionism toward a new activity and he could focus on simply doing whatever he felt like.

That was how BigHit enrolled Jimin in a Clay Sculpting workshop. Horrified, he tried to persuade them to transfer him to any other kind of class: cooking, bartending, painting, expressionist dancing, anything, but BTS and BigHit knew him well, and they knew that anything that meant creating a product or involved dancing would only make things worse. So he began attending the classes, twice a week for two hours. He was not allowed to bring any unfinished projects home, and he had to submit his work every week. This forced him to just turn in whatever he had, regardless of his expectations.

That was how he had met you.

“Okay, (Y/N). Could you please tell us about your piece?” the teacher asked kindly, holding up a bulbous shape so that the rest of the class could see it.

“Well, it was supposed to be a carriage, but looking at it now I’m tempted to just think of it as ‘abstract art’” you scoffed. “I guess I’ll have to name it something pretentious or whatever.”

Everyone laughed, and Jimin felt much more at ease at the fact that the frog that he had been working on looked like a deformed hut with eyes.

At the end of the class, Jimin stepped out of the men’s room, ready to leave, when he overheard a conversation happening in the next room.

“Ugh, I wish they’d let us bring our phones in! No one’s going to believe me,” someone complained.

“No phones allowed, that’s true, but there are no rules over bringing a picture and asking him to sign it. I bet I could sell it for big bucks,” another voice added.

Jimin exhaled silently, deciding to remain hidden until everyone else was gone. He hoped they’d leave soon, Jungkook was picking him up and he was probably waiting in the parking lot already.

“Oh! Let’s ask him next week, (Y/N)!”

“No.” Your voice, firm and clear, resonated in the quiet room, pulling Jimin out of his thoughts. He pressed his ear to the door. “Look, you can do whatever you want, but I’m not going to be a part of this.”

“A part of what?” a man inquired.

“Can you imagine what it must be like?” you countered calmly. “Can you imagine being unable to join a friggin’ clay sculpture class without people harassing you all the time?”

“It’s just an autograph, (Y/N). Jeez,” the same man jeered.

“Yeah, I bet everyone thinks that. And then everyone demands one. All day. Every day.”

A low murmur broke after your words, and Jimin couldn’t hear anything else. Just in case he walked back into the men’s room and remained there until he was positive the classroom was empty.

During the weekend, Jimin found himself thinking about you frequently. He appreciated you standing up for him with that group of people, since he knew it couldn’t have been easy to just go ahead and confront the majority. Besides, there was something very genuine about you, like the way you had mocked your own sculpture. Even the way you spoke felt honest and upfront. He wondered if there’d be a way to talk to you during class.

As it turned out, one of your friends was on vacation and there was a free spot on your table when Jimin walked in. That wasn’t the only good news. It seemed that your words had an impact on the rest of the group, because no one walked to him requesting an autograph or a picture.

Jimin sat next to you slowly, attempting to play it cool, like he’d chosen that seat because whatever. The way his eyes looked away from you bashfully contradicted that notion.

“Hi,” you greeted him smilingly as you put on your apron.

“Hi,” he replied softly. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by being overbearing, so you began preparing the materials in silence. Jimin watched you awkwardly for a second, then he began preparing his things too. He tried to make conversation. “Um… any idea what you’re going to do today?”

“Well, I’ll try to do a lotus flower, ‘try’ being the operative word.”

“I think your carriage last week was pretty good,” Jimin chortled.

“Oh, it’s not a carriage anymore. I’m calling it ‘The Burden of Constantly Failing Clay Class’. It’s an abstract piece,” you joked, and Jimin burst into quiet laughter.

Jimin had a lot of fun with you during the entire class, and he soon discovered that when he didn’t take himself so seriously he actually enjoyed himself immensely. He played with the clay, experiencing the feeling of its texture under his fingers, and shaped up a bird with its wings wide open. Your lotus flower was looking pretty good too, and Jimin suggested you combine the two sculptures after painting them next class.

You walked into the classroom overly excited the next class, and so did Jimin. He had been looking forward to this all week. You worked together again, goofing around with the brushes and joking constantly. When you turned in your final project, the colors were bright and tacky, and it looked quite kitsch. It wasn’t even close to being perfect, but that somehow made you both feel better.

“Why are you taking this class, (Y/N)?” Jimin inquired as you both waited for the rest of your classmates to finish their work.

“Well… I was struggling with negative thoughts, and I needed something to force me to focus on actually doing something regardless of the outcome,” you explained. You didn’t mean to overshare with him, but he looked genuinely interested in knowing and it just slipped out. Besides, you thought, being an idol meant everyone knew so much about him already, it was only fair to give him some personal information about yourself.

“Really? So did I!” he exclaimed impulsively, then looked away, abashed. You smiled at him encouragingly, and he continued. “I was actually working myself too hard, and my brothers decided it was time for me to find a hobby.”

Both of you kept talking until the class was over, and then continued your conversation while Jimin waited for Jungkook to pick him up in the car.

The conversations and joint projects quickly became a routine. This caused a lot of gossip at first, but it died out as time passed and your relationship didn’t change. In truth, you both liked each other quite a lot, but were reticent of asking each other out for different reasons. You didn’t know whether Jimin could date or not, and you were scared you’d make him uncomfortable by asking him out.

Jimin, on the other hand, was simply too shy to do it. Of course, he thought about it quite a lot, and he had formed plans to do it a hundred times, at least. He’d fantasized and daydreamed about it countless hours, perfecting it, but when the time came to act upon it, he systematically chickened out: he walked into the workshop determined to ask for your phone number, but as soon as the class was over he walked away empty handed.

His brothers began to lose patience.

“For fuck’s sake, Jimin, just go and ask her for her phone number after class. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. Tell her you want to send her memes or something,” Yoongi complained.

“If you don’t do it yourself I’ll do it for you,” Jeongguk teased.

“Okay, okay! I’ll do it tomorrow,” Jimin whined, trying to end the conversation.

“You make sure he does that, Jeongguk,” Yoongi added maliciously.

Jimin eyed them suspiciously. Maybe Jeongguk really meant what he said. He would have to act on this soon if he wanted to avoid a catastrophe.

Needless to say, Jimin was fidgety during the entire class, paying little attention to his clay project. It was supposed to be a mug, but he didn’t even shape it properly and it looked like some sort of tower. As the end of the class grew impendingly close, his palms began to sweat.

“I can’t believe I even got the handle right,” you boasted, showing your mug to Jimin as you put your projects away to dry so that they could be painted next class. “I mean, if I keep this up you’ll be keeping my best work yet.”

Jimin looked up in alarm, and realization dawned on him. You had promised to give each other the finished mugs last class, but he’d been so caught up with asking you for your number he completely forgot. He looked down at his mug, beginning to despair. He wasn’t sure the thing could even hold any liquid inside it.

As your classmates slowly filed out of the class, Jimin said goodbye quickly, excusing himself by going to the toilet. You felt uneasy. He’d acted weird today. He’d barely talked, his mug looked like a pepper mill and he stumbled over words the whole time. Was something wrong? Should you stay and ask him? You decided it was best to leave, perhaps he needed time alone.

Feeling a little down, you walked out of the building and a chilly breeze tousled your hair, making you shiver. You remembered you left your scarf in the classroom, so you went back to get it. When you opened the door you found Jimin alone, placing his clay mug inside a cardboard box. His eyes darted up and he froze, turning crimson.

“Hey,” you said quietly. “Er… what are you doing?”

Jimin straightened up, eyeing the box guiltily.

“Nothing. I mean, I was just packing the mug.”

“Why are you packing it?” you questioned dubiously. Then you noticed his backpack was open, and he’d made enough space to stuff the cardboard box inside it. “Wait. Were you going to take the mug home?”

“It just needs a few touch ups!” Jimin admitted, biting his lip as you stared at him.

“Jimin, you’re supposed to let it go if it’s not perfect, remember?” you protested, your voice soft and understanding. “Are you having anxious thoughts again?”

“No, not at all. That’s not it.”

“Then why are you so worried about it?”

“Because I forgot we were going to swap mugs!” he confessed. “My mind was elsewhere and I completely forgot, like an idiot. I want you to have something nice. I don’t want you keeping this— this—” he trailed off, glaring at the box.

You were so touched by his words it took you a few seconds to react.

You walked around the table to stand next to him and placed your hands over his shoulders, softly holding him in place as you fixed your eyes on his.

“Jimin, I want you to understand something. I don’t care if the mug’s pretty or artsy or whatever. You know what I care about? The fact that you took the time and trouble to make it for me. That’s it. I’ve been watching you work on that mug, and I already love it. So put it back to dry, or so help me.”

You had meant for the playful threat to make him laugh, but instead Jimin remained still, his eyes burning with emotion. Of course you would have the perfect answer. Of course you would made him feel exactly right. As he pondered this, he discovered this was his chance to take the leap, and he was sure that he wanted to take it.

Carefully evaluating your reaction, Jimin hesitantly lifted his hands to your back and pulled you just a fraction closer. The movement was enough for you to understand what he was trying to do. Your heart thumped loudly in your ears. You slid your hands up his neck gently, grazing your fingertips over his hair.

As he held you in his arms, Jimin’s shyness faded away. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your bodies closer together, so close you could taste his breath on your tongue. It lured you in, and for the briefest moment you touched his lips with yours.

The sound of the elevator doors opening, followed by a series of footsteps in the hallway, had you pulling away from each other hastily. You had just enough time to collect yourselves before Jeongguk strolled in through the door.

“Hey, what’s taking you so long? Class was over like fifteen minutes ago—” he stopped, his eyes darting from you to Jimin’s unmoving figures.

“Oh,” he whispered as he understood what was going on. “You must be (Y/N).”

Knowing that Jimin had talked to Jeongguk about you made your heart flutter. It had the opposite effect on Jimin, though.

“We were just talking right now. Could you please wait for me in the car?” he snapped, indignation winning over the embarrassment.

“Okay,” Jeongguk replied and made to leave. Then he stopped in his tracks and turned around, a bit flustered. “I’m sorry, but I promised Yoongi-hyung I would check...”

Jimin’s stomach dropped. Oh, no he wouldn’t. His eyes narrowed dangerously at his brother, unspoken threats festering behind them. Jeongguk seemed to reconsider for a second, but then he squared his shoulders and stared at you.

“(Y/N), Jimin’s supposed to ask you for your phone number. You know, to send you memes and stuff.”

Jimin learned there and then that it was not possible to die of shame, because if it were he would have dropped dead at that precise moment. He turned to look at your expression to measure the damage Jeongguk had done. For what felt like an eternity you appeared to be confused, your face scrunched up in concentration. Then, to his immense relief, the corners of your mouth quirked up into a wide grin.

“He was just getting to that before you walked in,” you affirmed happily, having realized that he had been so nervous during class because he’d been meaning to ask you out.

“Oh. Okay. I’ll leave you to it, then,” Jeongguk mumbled, then turned around and walked out.

None of you spoke until the elevator shut its doors with Jeongguk inside it.

“So, would you like to take down my number?” you asked innocently, trying to break the ice.

“I am… so sorry. I don’t even know how to begin to make up for what just happened. Memes...” he whispered to himself as he looked away, overcome with indignation.

You beamed at him, trying not to laugh at his expression. When he gazed at you again, it knocked the air out of him. You were glowing: your eyes, your skin, your lips, everything seemed to have become even more beautiful.

Jimin understood then that his chagrin was silly, because your feelings mirrored his own. He grinned at you and held your hands in his.

“I could begin to make amends tomorrow night. Can I buy you dinner?” he asked, turning a light shade of pink.

“Please,” you answered, and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

***

Kim Taehyung

The other members didn’t mind it as much when someone from the BigHit team took their pets to the vet because it was unavoidable, but not Taehyung. Sometimes it couldn’t be helped, but he did the best he could to always be there for Yeontan when he needed his routine vaccinations or when he was ill. He would fuss and get stressed about it all the time, distrusting the vets, until another idol shared with him the number of her favorite vet in the city, who happened to have a home health service.

That was how he had met you. Taehyung was immediately smitten with you since the first time you stepped on the dorm and all the members’ pets greeted you affectionately as if they’d known you forever. Even Yeontan was happily rubbing itself against your shins in demand of your attention before you had removed your coat. Oh yes, Taehyung had crushed on you instantly, and it wasn’t only because he found you very attractive, but also that you were humble, kind and easygoing. You greeted the boys warmly and set to work immediately, listening to all of their questions and lovingly stroking their pets as you checked them up. And what was even better, you treated them as normal people.

When it was Yeontan’s turn to have his medical examination Taehyung lingered protectively around him, but he soon realized it was unnecessary: his pup was so comfortable with you he needn’t be worried. So instead he decided to watch you work, paying close attention to the way you frowned when you were listening to Tan’s heart through the stethoscope, or the graceful movements of your fingers as you checked inside his ears. You were so concentrated on Yeontan’s examination that you didn’t notice Taehyung gawking at you admiringly, nor how his mouth was hanging open during the entire check up.

After suggesting to swap the food brand to make Yeontan gain a bit of weight and arranging to come in a few weeks for his routine vaccination, you asked Taehyung if he had any questions, still holding his pet in your arms as he licked your hand affectionately.

“Is there a place where I can come see you?” he inquired dreamily, and taking into account your bewildered expression, he added, “you know, if I have any questions or if there’s an emergency.”

“Sure, you can come over to the clinic or just call me at any time,” you beamed at him as you handed him a business card with your address.

Immediately after you left, Taehyung secured your card carefully in his wallet and made sure to write down your address in his phone as well. During the next week he tried to restrain himself from getting in touch with you, but he couldn’t help daydreaming about asking you out. He tried to content himself by looking forward to your next visit, but the more time passed, the harder it became for him to ignore the little card tucked in his wallet.

Unable to resist any longer, Taehyung texted you pretending to have forgotten the brand of dog food you’d recommended. You wound up chatting for a while, where he sent you pictures of Yeontan and, of course, a really cute selfie with a wide, boxy smile and his pup in his arms. Then the following day he dropped by your veterinary clinic to purchase the dog food, and he later sent you a video of Yeontan eating his meal happily. Five days later he swung by again, explaining that someone had mysteriously thrown away Yeontan’s food so he needed to buy some more.

During this whole time you had tried very hard to maintain a professional relationship. Honestly, you really tried. But how was it possible to keep a polite distance when he was so sweet and attentive? You tried to be strong and remain emotionally detached since the idea of getting romantically involved with a worldwide famous idol was scary to say the least, and besides, he surely met a lot of interesting women all the time in his industry. You thought he might get bored of talking to you, or he would eventually be too busy to keep it up.

Well, that didn’t happen, not even when he left on a tour for two weeks. He texted you regularly, and despite beginning your daily conversations with a pretext, like Yeontan shivering while he slept or not being hungry, every single time he found a way to keep talking to you about something else, bombarding you with questions about your personal life and telling you funny stories of his daily routine being an idol. Eventually, Taehyung gathered up enough courage to ask you if you were dating someone. When you read that text, your hands were shaking with so much excitement that you nearly dropped your phone. That was the moment you finally accepted that you had utterly and completely messed up your plan to remain emotionally detached.

Needless to say that when the time came for you to go back to the dorms and vaccinate Yeontan, both of you were giddy and excited. Taehyung was head over heels for you, and he promised himself he would ask you out today. He woke up extra early to shower, fix his hair and carefully select his outfit. He spent an entire thirty minutes deciding what perfume to wear, trying them all on the other members, and the last hour before your arrival he brushed his teeth three times.

“So at what time is the hot vet coming?” Jeongguk inquired, a bit concerned after watching Taehyung rinse his mouth yet again.

“Please don’t call her that. It only makes me more nervous to remember how beautiful she is,” Taehyung muttered, anxiously checking his phone again.

“Take it easy, Taehyungie,” Jimin said as he patted his back soothingly. “You’ve been texting all the time for weeks now. I’m sure she’ll accept to go on a date with you.”

When you finally rang the bell, Taehyung stood in front of the door for a second and took a deep breath to collect himself, energetically flattening his shirt with his hands to remove any wrinkles. And when he opened the door, you looked so pretty you knocked the air out of him and he forgot all the things he planned to say to play it cool.

“(Y/N)! You look— I mean, I’m happy to see you again. Hi,” he said, picking up Yeontan from the ground and bringing him close to you so you could pet him.

You were breathless, too. You noticed how handsome Taehyung looked, and for a second it seemed surreal to you that this man had been flirting with you this whole time. Were you absolutely sure he liked you? Maybe you had read too much into your relationship. You had refrained from asking your friends’ advice in the matter because you didn’t want to expose him, but now that you were insecure about his feelings you felt like you should have asked your best friend about her opinion, even if you didn’t tell her who it was you were texting with.

As he closed the door, Taehyung debated with himself whether he should help you remove your coat or not, but before he knew it you were already placing it on the hanger. He scolded himself for being inattentive and decided to compensate by offering you something to drink, only to realize he had forgotten to boil water for tea.

Luckily, Jimin walked in at that very moment and greeted you warmly, after which he said he had prepared some infusions and invited you to the living room. As you walked through the door with your back to both of them, Jimin gave Taehyung two thumbs up, silently mouthing ‘I got you covered’.

The three of you sat down for a few minutes drinking tea and making small talk while Yeontan perched himself comfortably on your lap, after which Jimin excused himself and left Taehyung and you alone. For a second you were afraid you’d be too nervous to talk, but then you noticed Taehyung smiling affectionately at Tan, who had fallen asleep on top of you. Just by looking at him you felt a fuzzy warmth radiating inside you and spreading all over your body.

“I’m glad he likes you so much,” he whispered, his eyes now on yours.

“It definitely makes things easier for my job,” you replied, grinning as you softly rubbed behind Tan’s ears.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Taehyung interrupted, after which he got up and sat beside you, careful not to wake Yeontan. He thought for a moment, wondering why it was so relaxing for him to know Yeontan approved of you so completely. Perhaps it was because Tan was family, and Taehyung wanted him to like you because he liked you. He stretched his hand to stroke the sleeping pup, wondering how to correctly translate these feelings into words, when his fingers accidentally brushed against you.

Taehyung’s hand froze in midair, hovering over your skin as he waited for you to react. Without a word, you lifted your arm slightly, and a small smile spread across Taehyung’s face as you pressed your arm to his palm. Encouraged by your advance, he wrapped his hand gently around your arm and let it slide softly up and down, simply enjoying the feeling until he entwined his fingers with yours. Then his other hand delicately lifted your chin as his thumb caressed your cheek. When you looked up, his face was so close to yours his breath ghosted across your lips.

Taehyung fixed his eyes on yours, wordlessly asking for your permission. You closed your eyes and leaned in.

Yeontan abruptly jumped out of your lap and ran to meet Min Holly at the door. Right behind them Yoongi was silently but frantically gesturing for his own dog to follow him, having realized he was interrupting you in a rather... intimate moment. Yet when he noticed Yeontan had joined Holly, he looked up apologetically and awkwardly waved his hand at you.

“Hi, doc,” he said, bending down to pick up Holly and Yeontan in his arms. “Sorry for the interruption. Let me just—”

Taehyung shut his eyes tightly, grinding his teeth together. You leaned away from him, fixing a stray lock of hair behind your ear to compose yourself. It was hopeless, though, since you were blushing furiously.

“Hi, Min Yoongi. Is everything okay? I can examine Min Holly later,” you said, attempting to dissipate the awkwardness.

“Maybe some other time,” he replied, giving Taehyung a meaningful look, and he shut the door behind him.

You gazed back at Taehyung, who looked absolutely demoralized. However, you took it as a good sign that your fingers were still interlinked, and decided to place your free hand over his.

“Are you alright, Taehyung?” you asked soothingly.

Even though he was brutally disappointed by how your first kiss had turned out, the way his name sounded in your voice made him feel immediately better. He realized you must have been dissatisfied by this whole ordeal too. Taehyung decided to make the best out of the situation and actually continue with the plan he had originally outlined, where he asked you out first and kissed you second.

Taking a deep breath, Taehyung fixed you with a serious, intense expression. When he saw your encouraging smile and felt the warmth of your hands wrapping his, the words effortlessly slipped out of his mouth.

“(Y/N), I really like you. Would you go out on a date with me?”

You beamed at him and nodded, nudging his hand.

“Great,” he grinned. He stood up and pulled you up with him, biting his lips as he drank in your excited smile, then he raised an eyebrow. “Are you free right now?”

Yeontan’s vaccination could wait another week.

***

Jeon Jeongguk

“(Y/N)! I’ll cover you!” Jeongguk yelled, his headset lopsided, as he hammered his fingers against the joysticks. Despite your efforts, you were losing miserably in this game of Overwatch. When you were finally brought down by your enemies, Jeongguk exhaled loudly and slumped against the back of the couch, dropping the Switch beside him. He could hear your sigh echoing from the headset.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t see Hanzo on time, I was distracted,” he apologized angrily.

“Don’t be silly, if I had better aim we wouldn’t have lost,” you answered back in your own house as you opened a bag of chips and began munching them down in frustration.

“What are you eating?”

“Barbeque chips,” you said in a muffled voice.

“I wish you were here,” he groaned unhappily.

“You’re only saying that because you didn’t think of getting your own chips,” you countered.

“No, I mean it,” he laughed, his good mood disappearing once he noticed it was getting late. “I have to go. I’ll be back home on Saturday. Will you drop by the dorms for supper?”

“Of course,” you chimed, thrilled to know you’d see Jeongguk soon. “I get out of work at seven, I’ll go after that.”

“I’ll get you something tasty.”

The tour had lasted forever, and even though you’d joined Jeongguk in Europe for two weeks during your vacation, it still felt like the longest time ever. As best friends since childhood you had always been supportive of each other: you knew exactly how to make Jeongguk laugh, and he knew exactly how to make you feel better. Jeongguk was convinced that he wouldn’t be the man he was if it weren’t for you, which was why he was so intent on protecting your friendship at all costs from anything that might jeopardize it, even his own feelings.

This task, however, was becoming increasingly difficult to accomplish. During your visit to Europe he’d been this close to ruining everything by kissing you several times. He found it particularly hard to control himself when he saw you waiting for him backstage with your arms open after a show, or when you confided in him with tears in your eyes how much you were struggling with your exams. He wanted to be with you so much it almost overwhelmed the terror he felt about losing you.

You, on the other hand, were not doing much better. You tried seeing other people, but it never lasted longer than a date or two. At first you thought you weren’t in the mood for a relationship, but you eventually discovered that you were constantly comparing your dates to the time you spent with Jeongguk: ‘I’d rather be playing something with Jeongguk’, or ‘Jeongguk would love this place’, or ‘I can’t wait to tell this joke to Jeongguk’. Your friends, tired of hearing you talk about him all the time, already knew what was going on before you reluctantly accepted that you were in love with him. After all, it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

You had travelled to Europe with the purpose of confessing your feelings to him, but when the time came you chickened out. Besides, Jeongguk was always so tired and busy you didn’t have the heart to bring it up.

On Saturday afternoon, Namjoon walked into Jeongguk’s room and sat on the bed as the maknae unpacked his bags hastily.

“We only just got home. Why don’t you unpack tomorrow?” Namjoon inquired, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand.

“(Y/N) is coming over and I want everything to look normal.”

“Oh right, I forget (Y/N) freaks out when confronted with packed luggage,” Namjoon replied sarcastically.

“I’m not doing it because it would upset her,” Jeongguk answered testily, “I just want her to see that my room is tidy and I have my life together.”

“I’m sorry, Jeongguk, but I’m not following,” Namjoon insisted innocently. In reality, he knew full well about Jeongguk’s feelings for you. He had tried to broach the topic several times, but Jeongguk had shut himself in like a clam everytime. Namjoon knew Jeongguk was being stupidly stubborn about this, so he hadn’t given up on the subject.

Jeongguk didn’t answer at first. He just kept putting the dirty laundry in the hamper and folding his clean clothes back in the closet. When he was done, he suddenly felt helpless. He sat on the bed next to his hyung and hung his head in his hands.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he mumbled.

“I know what you’re doing,” Namjoon explained, patting his brother’s back softly, “you’re evading yourself.”

“Hyung, she is the most important person in the world to me,” Jeongguk mumbled, twisting his fingers in his hair. “What if I fuck it up?”

“That’s a possibility,” Namjoon conceded, “But what if you don’t?”

Jeongguk pondered for a while, allowing the fantasies he’d been constantly repressing to overwhelm him. He saw you smiling as you walked holding hands. He saw you kissing him, your arms wrapped around him. He saw himself pulling your top off, his lips tracing the curve of your neck…

“Listen, you don’t have to figure it out tonight,” Namjoon hinted, interrupting Jeongguk’s reverie, “but I think you should give yourself a chance. She won’t toss you away if she doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, and if she does feel the same way…”

“Thanks, hyung,” he cut him short, and smiled apologetically at Namjoon. He was grateful for his advice, but he wanted some time on his own to reflect. Namjoon knew when Jeongguk had enough, so he let it rest.

“I need to think about this. I’ll go have a shower,” Jeongguk stated as he got up purposefully.

In preparation for the night, Jeongguk had placed an order for Chinese takeout and shuffled around the house, tidying up and all in all getting into the other member’s nerves. He was trying really hard not to anticipate the possibility of confessing his feelings, so he kept himself busy until the bell rang.

The moment Jeongguk opened the door, you pounced at him and hugged him so tightly you were afraid his ribs would crack. Jeongguk lifted you from the ground and spun you around, laughing loudly and forgetting all about his anxieties. You walked together to his room, chatting excitedly and bumping into each other like drunks, just for the pleasure of being close enough to actually touch each other. No more depending on texting and video calls, at least for a while.

“I’m warning you: I have a lot to tell you about college drama, so you better be ready to stay up all night,” you exclaimed as you sat on top of his bed with your legs crossed. He shut the door and sat opposite to you, grinning widely.

“Are you kidding me? You better be ready for all the stuff I have to tell you about the tour. If I catch you dozing off I won’t be forgiving.”

For a long time you both chatted excitedly, and as the exhilaration gradually wore off the conversation became deeper, more emotional. You talked about family issues, about feelings of inadequacy in social situations and about stress from working and studying, until the conversation eventually drifted to a more sensitive topic for your relationship.

“So…” Jeongguk began, unable to resist the morbid curiosity he felt. “Have you been dating anyone?”

Your cheeks flared up and you looked down, suddenly very focused on pulling a loose thread from the bed cover. Jeongguk held his breath.

“No,” you admitted. Jeongguk exhaled in relief. “And you?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?” you demanded, looking up again. “I bet you meet a lot of interesting people all the time.”

“I do meet a lot of interesting people. I just don’t want to date them,” he answered defensively.

Why did he have to make things more difficult for you? Maybe if he was dating someone you’d be able to move on. Then again, maybe not.

“I don’t get you, Jeongguk,” you protested, your cooped up fears and frustration bubbling to the surface. “You have the chance to go on dates with so many cool people, but you decide not to?”

“And what about you?” he fired back. “What about your classmates in college?”

“What about them?” you challenged.

“I bet they’re so smart, you could have intellectual debates or whatever—” he began, too aggravated to restrain himself.

“What on Earth are you talking about?” you hissed, feeling increasingly incensed.

“I know some of them have asked you out!”

“So?”

“Well, don’t they count as interesting people to date?”

“I don’t want to date them!”

“Why the hell not?!”

“Because I’m in love with you, you idiot!” you snapped, out of control.

Jeongguk’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. You panted for a few seconds, your anger sizzling until a feeling of ice cold mortification took over you.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. What had you done?

“You’re in love with me?” Jeongguk whispered.

“I— I just...” you babbled, panicking. You weren’t ready for this discussion. You weren’t planning on this. “I’m sorry, Jeongguk, I can’t right now, I— I think I need to leave.”

You jumped up and pulled the door open, but Jeongguk caught your hand and turned you around before you could walk out.

“Don’t go,” he begged. You tried to look away, but he cupped your face in his hands. He held you so softly, so caringly that you looked back into his eyes despite your chagrin. And when you read the expression on his face, you stopped resisting.

Jeongguk’s eyes bore into yours, his lips parted, and it felt like you were looking at each other for the first time in your lives. His thumb grazed against your cheekbone, and you both remained still and quiet for what felt like an eternity. You raised your hand and caressed his temple, sinking your fingers in his hair. Jeongguk closed his eyes for a second, enjoying the feeling of your touch. Then he huddled closer to you and lifted your chin, lowering his head slowly to yours so that your lips were level.

You didn’t hear the footsteps on the carpet. Jimin turned around the corner of the corridor, carrying a bag of Chinese takeout in his arms. Jeongguk and you were wound tightly in an embrace, your faces so close to each other that Jimin knew this was no friendly hug.

As soon as he realized what was going on Jimin tried to walk away quietly before you noticed him. However, as he attempted to tiptoe backward the paper bag crackled in his arms. The sound of of it broke the spell, and Jeongguk and you jumped away from each other. You stared at Jimin dumbfoundedly, too confused and surprised to feel embarrassed yet.

“Hi (Y/N),” Jimin’s voice was strained. “Um, Jeongguk... I brought you the takeout you ordered.”

The three of you looked at the bag, then back at each other, like idiots. Jimin clumsily stepped forward and handed Jeongguk the takeout.

“Thanks,” Jeongguk mumbled.

Jimin stepped back awkwardly, biting his lip. Then he squared his shoulders and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Look, I’m sorry I interrupted, and I know I shouldn’t say this right now but I’m really glad you both got over yourselves and this is finally happening,” he blurted out, articulating every word so fast it almost made you dizzy. "Okay, bye!"

Jimin turned around and strode away at an inhuman speed.

For a few seconds, neither of you said a word. Then Jeongguk gestured you to go into his room. Once you were both inside, he locked the door, placed the bag away and turned to face you, a determined expression on his face. Now that it was out in the open, he needed to say the words, and he needed you to hear him say them.

“(Y/N), I love you. I always have. I don’t want to date anyone else, only you.”

Jeongguk’s voice was clear and steady, and his eyes burned with intensity as he spoke. It made you feel like laughing and crying at the same time.

“Jimin’s right, we’ve been so stupid,” you giggled bashfully, and took a step closer to him. Jeongguk pulled you to his chest and began planting soft kisses on the fringe of your hair, on your eyebrows, on the bridge of your nose. You pulled away just an inch to look him in the eyes. “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, it’s just—”

“I know,” Jeongguk said, and he kissed you in a very non-platonic way.

#bts #bts scenarios #bts reactions #maknae line #jeon jeongguk #jungkook #park jimin #jimin #kim taehyung #v

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twisted-fics · 6 years ago

Text

Cooking class Dorm leaders + Teachers

"You want the students to have a cooking class Mr. Vargas?"

"Yes Headmaster, I think a lot of students could benefit from one, our teachers too."

Headmaster Crowley smiled, "Well then, we'll have a test class tomorrow after school, how about we just have the dorm leaders and fellow staff join you?"

"Yes sir, thank you, I look forward to it."

"So do I, Mr. Vargas."

"A test cooking class? Well, I don't have anything planned so, I'll be attending." Riddle said.

"Can you even cook Riddle?" Ace asked while laughing

"HEY! I CAN COOK FINE! IF YOU SAY ANYTHING MORE IT'S OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"

"Hmmm, well, I already know how to cook, but maybe I could learn some new recipes, so I guess I'll go."

"But what's the point Azul?" Jade asked him

Floyd snickered "Yeah, besides, who's this even being held by?"

"Why Coach Vargas" Azul said

Floyd laughed hard, "That beefcake? Seriously?! It must be some sort of trick!"

Jade picked up the paper, "Why no, he's completely serious."

Azul sighed, "Well, I'll be going."

"Jamil!!! I'm going to need you to call off the party tomorrow!! I have a cooking class to attend as of right now!!!"

"What cooking class? The school doesn't even off that" Jamil sighed

Kalim got off of his bed, "Well tomorrow Coach Vargas has organized for us dorm leaders to be in a cooking class."

"And you want to go?" Jamil asked

"Yeah! I think it'll be fun!"

"Alright, just don't do anything stupid."

Vil smiled "A cooking class, my what a nice idea, I think I'll go."

Epel walked over, "Don't you already cook?"

"Epel, potions don't count, they're not edible, which is why they're poison most of the time."

"But what about those apples-"

"Shhhhh, we don't talk about that."

"Ah…a cooking class, no thanks, I'll just make a simulator instead." Idia threw the paper over his shoulder and Ortho picked it up.

"But big brother! You should learn to cook! You'd be great at it!"

"But the other dorm leaders are going to be there, not to mention the teachers…"

"So? You could have fun!"

Idia sighed, "Ok…I'll go…"

"A cooking class huh? Nah, I'm too lazy."

Ruggie looked over, "You should go, you could learn something and stop being lazy all the time."

"Aww Ruggie that's cold."

"It may be cold but you need a hobby and why are you in my room?"

"Just making sure you're ok"

"Ugh…I'm never getting sick again…anyway you should probably attend the class."

"Alright, I'll go."

"Lilia, I just received this letter from Coach Vargas and I think I want to attend."

"Do you? You want to cook?"

"Yeah"

"Well then go, I'm not going to stop you."

"Thanks Lilia"

"No problem"

~Day of the class~

"Alright everyone, we're going to get started soon but we need to do a few things first." Ashton explained, "First of all, everyone with long hair needs to tie it up, Divus, if you would."

Divus pulled out some hair ties from his pocket and helped, Vil, Idia, Leona and Malleus tie up their hair (Idia's being enchanted so it wouldn't burn.)

"Second off, we'll be splitting up into pairs of two, however since there are seven of you, one of you will be working with Mozus, alright go!" Ashton blew his whistle and the boys walked around, finding partners.

"Azul, would you mind being my partner?"

"Not at all Riddle, I'm sure we'll work well together."

"Idia, I'll work with you."

"A-AH! Oh…um…ok…thanks Malleus…"

"Hmph, guess I'll be working with you, Leona…"

"Whatever, poison apple."

"It seems you'll be working with me, Kalim."

"Yes Professor Trein!"

Ashton smiled, "Alright, so now that we're in groups I should probably be telling you what we're making today, we'll be doing a basic bread recipe, this is just a test class so we can't go all out."

Kalim raised his hand, "What do we have to do to be able to make more cool stuff?"

"Well we'll have to do this class and if you all enjoy it we'll be offering it to the other students."

“Ok!”

Ashton clapped his hands “Now, everyone put on an apron and we’ll get started, you each have one in the right drawer.”

"Alright, now that the dough is mixed, split it evenly between the both of you and watch me and Divus as we knead it."

Everyone pulled out the knives and began to cut the bread dough in half.

"You're very good at this Riddle, you should join me in the cafe kitchen sometimes."

Riddle smiled, "If I wasn't so busy running Heartslabyul and working on my homework I definitely would."

"Professor Trein you're amazing! How do you do it?!"

"Kalim, I'm a father and a grandfather, I have to be good at cooking to feed my grandchild."

"You're messing up, Vil."

"Well you're not doing anything you beast!"

"I don't feel like it."

"Do something or I poison your errand boy!"

"Touch Ruggie and you're dead."

"You did good Idia."

"Thanks Malleus…"

Ashton blew his whistle "Alright! Now that everyone is done, put the bread in a bowl with a washcloth on top and we're going to let it rise for an hour and a half, while that happens, we'll prep our ovens and pans."

"And now we wait for 35 minutes for the bread to cook, while we wait, we'll be cleaning up and discussing the class."

Ashton started the timer and took off his apron, "So, what do we think of this class?"

"It's not bad, as long as I don't have to work with a beast again." Vil stated

"It's really fun!" Kalim laughed.

“It’s not bad…” Idia spoke up.

Ashton smiled, “I’m glad you boys think so, I’ll be taking this to Headmaster Crowley then.

~~ “This is really good Riddle, I guess you can cook.” Ace said

Riddle smiled, “I’m glad you think so, I guess you can keep your head.”

~~ “Mmmm! Azul this bread is great!” Floyd exclaimed

Jade nodded, “We should use this in the cafe.”

Azul smiled, “I think you’re right, I’ll get the recipe from Coach Vargas.”

~~ “Isn’t this bread great Jamil? Me and Professor Trein made it!” “Yeah, it’s not bad, maybe you should try cooking more.” Kalim laughed, “You’re right!”

“Ahhh~! I expected nothing less of you Vil! This is fantastic!”

“Of course it is Rook, I made it.”

Epel smiled, “It is good”

~~ “It’s too bad I can’t eat your bread big brother, I bet it tastes really good!”

Idia smiled, “It is, I wish I could let you eat some too.”

“You like it Ruggie?” Leona asked Ruggie nodded, “Yeah!

“It’s not bad, you make good stuff when you actually try.” Jack mumbled.

Leona grinned, “Thanks.”

~~ Lilia pet Malleus’ head, “You did a great job making this Mal, I’m very proud of you.” “It is fantastic Malleus-sama!”

“Tastes good.” “Thank you, I’ll hopefully be cooking more.”

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etraytin · 5 years ago

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Quarantine, Day 103

June 22

Tonight's journal is coming to you from my balcony, where it is dark at nearly ten pm and very humid, but still pleasant with all my plants growing and the hum of air conditioners all around me.

And fucking yikes, those are some large bugs. The inside is also very appealing at this hour. I think I will write from my armchair this evening.

Anyway, I need to go to bed earlier than usual tonight because I have a very early morning tomorrow. Poll workers need to report to the precinct by 5am, and although I'm lucky to live nearly on top of our polling place, I still need to shower and dress and pack my breakfast, lunch and dinner before I go. We typically don't finish till 8:30pm, sometimes later, so it's a damn long day when you're not allowed to leave the precinct for any reason. Typically we make it nicer by throwing a big potluck of foods people can eat on all day long, but COVID ruins everything once again. At least there's a fridge and a microwave so I won't be stuck with PBJs and tepid water bottles.

The procedure is going to be different this time, too. I work pollbook most of the time at our precinct, which is the computer we use to check people in. It's not difficult work, but it is exacting, and it must be done right every time. Almost every counting discrepancy in a precinct starts at the pollbook, with somebody who didn't get entered properly for one reason or another. I have not made any major mistakes yet, knock on wood! There is a special precinct captain just for the pollbook, who does not work the pollbook but watches us working the pollbook to make sure we do it right. She's very demanding, for obvious reasons, and insists that we follow a particular procedure that is the same every time, so no steps ever get missed. This time we can't touch anybody's ID, which is going to make things different since we usually hold the ID till we've pushed the key to enter the voter, and we have to hand out the ballot ourselves instead of sending them to a ballot table. I'm hoping we get off to kind of a slow start so we can get the hang of things. I really, really do not want to be the person who causes a counting discrepancy. The biggest thing we've got going in our favor is that it's a simple Republican primary, so only one ballot type to hand out, and attendance is likely to be fairly light.

Going to bed early will be easy, at least, because the new mattress topper is here! Yay! It's very soft and cushy and I love it deeply already. I've only laid on it a little because it needs to recover from being vacuum sealed, but I can tell we're going to be the very best of friends.Our super-old mattress for the past two nights has made my back and neck very sad. We can't afford a new mattress, but this is like a new mattress, or close enough for now. I'm finally looking forward to going to bed!

Today was grocery pickup day, so we finally have milk and eggs and yogurt and such. The morning routine was disrupted when we realized that the truck's battery was flat after sitting for so many weeks, but I was able to take the battery pack we got for Christmas from my folks and use it to jump the battery, with some Facetime assistance from my dad. I know the principles of jumping a battery, but never had to do it on my own before. It's not too hard. I then had to go over to the post office, a chore that always ruins my day a little.

I don't understand what is wrong with my post office because I have dealt with many many post offices in all the places I've lived and none of them have been terrible like this one! I went in and told them that I wasn't getting my mail and asked if they might be holding it. Officious Asshole Guy, as he shall henceforth be known, assured me that they did not hold any mail without an order to hold it. I told him that I had a hold mail for the first two weeks of May, but that my mailbox was bursting when I got home May 16, so I assumed that, per usual, the mail carrier ignored my hold. I asked if he could go check, and he did, and came back with a big bundle of mail. He informed me that it was my fault that I wasn't getting my mail because I'd said I'd pick up my mail on May 16 but I hadn't done so. I reiterated that I'd gotten all my mail up until May 16, and that this must be mail from later, after the hold mail expired. He insisted that was not the case, that they never held mail without a hold mail order and never did not hold mail that had been ordered held, and that if I hadn't gotten any mail in a month, it was because people weren't sending me anything. It was useless to argue with him, so I took my mail and left. Everything in the pile was, of course, from after May 16. I went home and reminded all my family and friends on Facebook to please not send us anything via postal mail because the probability of it not reaching us is fairly high. I am sticking with my resolution to not leave any negative comments or complaints for anybody who has to work during the pandemic, no matter how terrible they are, but this guy really, really tempted me.

Just typing all that out has angried up my blood again, so I'll finish out with nicer stuff. The kiddo is back to using the knitting loom, which is a nice hobby and something good to do while listening to podcasts. He's been a little high strung since we got home, settling back into the routine, but it's getting gradually better. I wish it weren't so hot, so the kids could go out and play distantly with each other. Virginia is on a downswing right now, so it's not too unsafe except for the heat exhaustion part. My husband's summer class didn't make, not enough students signed up, so while that's a little less money for us this summer, it also means more time for him to work on his book.

And my mail today included two interesting COVID artifacts I will probably save: my son's report card with all V's (not evaluated) for his fourth quarter grades and merely a notation at the bottom that he is being promoted to fifth grade, and my sister's wedding invitation with an "everything could change at any time" caveat right under the RSVP instructions. These are strange days we are living in, but the weirdest thing I saw today was a Crayola Maskpack commercial that looked exactly like a commercial for any other Crayola school products, kids running, jumping, coloring in the classroom, interacting with their teachers, except every single person except one mom at home was wearing a bright colorful facemask. It looked so bizarre I watched it through twice, couldn't look away. It really is a new world.

#quarantine #crayola #election 2020

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asterythm · 6 years ago

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A is for Amour || The Way The Cookie Crumbles (8)

Pairings: Slow burn Logicality, endgame Prinxiety Word Count: 8k Chapter Summary: Logan tries some sweet treats, which uncovers some truths that taste just a little more bitter. Chapter Warnings: food, and... thaaaat’s about it. Think of this chapter as a nice, long reprieve from all the angst I’ve been putting you through :)

<< First Chapter || < Previous Chapter || Read this chapter on AO3

For all the comfort it offered Logan, the predictable routine of school could get awfully dull sometimes.

The first half of the day had looked exactly like any other. He’d arrived precisely ten minutes before the bell. Attended two hour-long classes, but between the two of them spent less than half an hour actually listening (he knew all the material already, why bother?).

Now, he was on his way to the most predictable part of the day yet: lunch, which he typically spent in the library studying instead of eating (Logan was a firm believer in the superiority of several small meals rather than three big ones). With a worn Science textbook in one hand, his sleek laptop in the other, and a dark blue water bottle clamped securely against his side, Logan could not have been following his mundane script more closely if he’d tried.

Until he turned the corner, that is, and almost ran straight into a boy coming out of the Tech and Home Ec hall.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”

All too quickly, Logan recognized the speaker. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. “That’s quite alright, Patton.”

“Huh…? Oh, hey, Logan!” As Patton spoke, a slight flush began to spread across his cheeks. Logan noted the colouration with curiosity; had he been running in the halls, or was there some other force at work here that Logan was somehow oblivious to? “Fancy seeing you here! I mean, what a surprise, am I right?”

“I don’t know if I would call it a surprise , per say, considering I do attend this school and all,” was Logan’s dry response. “That said, although I was expecting for the two of us to eventually run into each other here, I never thought that it would be in quite so literal a fashion.”

Logan didn’t realize his mistake until he saw Patton’s entire face immediately lit up with delight.

Oh sh—

“Did you just make a dad joke?”

“Never! ...Intentionally,“ Logan begrudgingly amended, cursing his sorry mouth. What had he been thinking, letting slip such foolishness as that? He was going to lose his student’s respect!

He made a mental note to confront his own dad about this later. The prolonged exposure to bad jokes must have finally begun contaminating his cognition; a hypothesis evidenced by, say, the strange way his student seemed to be vibrating before his very eyes.

Wait, no. Pushing his glasses up on his nose, Logan did a double take. That was no illusion. Patton was literally vibrating. What — how is that even physically possible?

While Logan puzzled over this new development, Patton continued to talk, and his words only confirmed Logan’s fears. “Man, this is so weird.” A good-natured laugh. “I mean, I knew that you had to have a sense of humour somewhere in there, obviously, but still. Hearing you make a joke in person like this? I never thought I’d see the day!”

The situation was not looking good. Logan could almost see his dignity disappearing, figurative grains of fine sand on a figurative beach, running through his figurative fingers at an alarming rate as he fumbled for a way to excuse himself from the conversation.

Or at least change the subject. It was with that thought that his eyes fell, for the first time, onto the plate in Patton’s hands.

Logan wasn’t sure how he hadn’t seen — or, more importantly, smelled — it any earlier. Covering nearly the entire surface of the ceramic plate was a variety of freshly baked, delicious-looking thumbprint cookies, arranged artfully to resemble petals on a flower of some sort. In the centre of each cookie was a spoonful or so of what was undeniably Crofter’s. And judging by the richness of their aroma, these cookies had probably only just come out of the oven a few minutes ago.

Had Logan been years younger, he likely would have been salivating at the very smell. But of course, he was too mature to submit to such temptations now. Obviously.

With considerable effort, Logan tore his gaze away from the plate.

“I see you have still more cookies today,” he observed out loud. “Tell me, do you make it a habit to always carry baked goods with you?”

“Ah — yeah, heh, I just came from Home Ec,” replied the younger boy, almost sheepish as he followed Logan’s gaze. “Today was a baking day, and I got a little carried away and accidentally made too many, so I got Mx. Harper’s permission to borrow a plate and pass them out around the school.”

“Fascinating. I didn’t realize you enjoyed baking.” Logan’s eyebrows raised, genuine interest animating his features. “Is that a hobby that you often engage in?”

“Yeah, I think it’s really amazing what baking can do! Like, I wanna meet the guy who looked at a loaf of bread and thought — ” Patton adopted a gruff tone — “Ya know what this needs? More sugar and eggs!” He giggled, dropping the voice. “I mean, the ingredients are so plain on their own. Sugar, butter, flour… who woulda thought that they could work together to come up with something oodles better than what you started with? And then you get to eat it! Or else you get to brighten up someone else’s day with it, which is somehow even better. Who doesn’t like eating a whole bunch of sweet stuff, am I right?

“It’s a funny thing, really. You’d think that with all the measuring and stuff, I’d be nervous about getting numbers mixed up, but… it’s actually kind of the opposite. All the numbers that I need to see are marked up on the measuring cups or spoons, so I don’t have to worry about getting them wrong. I don’t even have to think of them as numbers! I just imagine I’m playing one of those memory games where you have to match — um, match cards with...”

Abruptly, Patton stopped, seeming to have suddenly become aware of himself. Eye contact broke as he cleared his throat. “Sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“No, no! Well, yes, a little bit, but it’s quite alright. Truth be told, I don’t mind,” said Logan, surprising both Patton and himself with his sincerity. He was actually enjoying Patton’s chatter today; he’d never before heard the simple act of baking described so vividly. And, if he was being completely honest — Patton’s passion was invigorating after such a monotonous day.

“Wait, really?” Patton cocked his head to the side, appearing as if he could hardly believe his ears. “I’m… not annoying you?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Logan watched as the hopeful gleam slowly returned to Patton’s blue eyes. ( Huh. Blue. Logan hadn’t even noticed how bright those eyes were until now; they were always obscured behind Patton’s glasses, he supposed.) The freckled boy opened his mouth. Closed it. Then, hurriedly, he opened it again and spoke up.

“If that’s the case, then...” Patton raised the plate slightly. “I was about to head into the foyer to hand these out, but since you’re already here, would you maybe want to be the first to give one of these a try?”

Why, Patton, how charitable of you to extend such an offer! Yes, I most certainly would like a thumbprint cookie, thank you very much. How did you know these are my favourite? Truly, what a kind and generous soul you are.

…is exactly what Logan did not say.

Though his immediate instinct was to say yes and grab one of the buttery, jam-filled sweets (it was Crofter’s, after all!), Logan was also acutely aware that he was very much not where he should be at the moment; he should have been seated in one of the library’s quiet work cubicles long ago, chipping away at a decently sizable pile of homework. But no — instead, he was here, chatting up a storm with this bouncing-energy-ball of a boy and throwing down dad jokes like there was no tomorrow. Taking a cookie would mean even less time spent being productive, especially since no food was allowed in the library. And hadn’t Logan already wasted enough time today?

Then again…

Logan supposed there was another way of looking at the situation, and that was this: seeing as Logan was already behind schedule, he might as well forget all about schedules and routines and so forth, if only for one day. Let himself take a breather. Enjoy a cookie for a change. In light of all the time he had already wasted today, taking off one or two minutes more to have a quick snack could hardly make that much of a difference, could it?

Still Logan hesitated in his deliberation over the age-old question: punctuality… or Crofter’s? It could go either way, really; Logan held both options in an equally high regard. Whatever decision he made, though, he’d have to make it fast — going back and forth like this was the least effective time usage of them all.

A tiebreaker, then, Logan finally decided. Pointing to one of the cookies, he asked Patton, “What kind of jam is that in the centre there?”

“That one, I think, is… hmm. Let me see.” Patton squinted. “I’m pretty sure that that one is blackberry and pomegranate.”

“Well then!” That settled it — knowing now that his favourite flavour was among the many types of jam, Logan couldn’t not take one. Passing up blackberry-pomegranate Crofter’s was simply not an option. “That’s very kind of you, Patton. I can assure you I’d appreciate nothing more.” So saying, Logan moved to snag a cookie off the plate.

…Before realizing, a little too late, that both his hands were full. Awkwardly, Logan tried to bend down so he could gently drop his textbook on the floor, but fumbled it in midair so it hit the ground with a heavy thump instead. As he reflexively reached for it, his water bottle slipped out from underneath his arm. Logan watched in exasperation as the rogue bottle rolled down the hall, carrying the rest of Logan’s dignity with it, before finally bumping to a stop several feet away.

Well, at least his hands were free.

Though his cheeks were burning, Logan was able to take comfort in the delicious-smelling plate of baked goods being presented to him. “Thank you very much, Patton, for your generosity,” Logan said, grabbing the cookie he’d wanted off the plate and trying hard to pretend that he hadn’t just made an utter fool of himself (again).

Patton, to his credit, had the good grace not to comment on Logan’s embarrassing moment. The younger boy beamed as he replied, “It’s no problem at all! I love sharing the food I make.”

That seemed to be the end of the conversation. With a nod, Logan went to scoop up his belongings, then turned to leave, eager to get out of there and put all of his recent buffoonery behind him.

He could feel Patton’s eyes following him as he went.

Sure enough, just before he turned the next corner to draw himself out of sight, Logan was stopped in his tracks by the sound of Patton crying out: “Wait! Wait, Logan, don’t go!”

Ugh, so close, Logan thought, debating whether he should pretend as if he hadn’t heard Patton or not. But he was starting to find that the boy was cleverer than he looked, and most likely wouldn’t be fooled — only hurt.

Logan turned to see Patton staring after him, one hand stretched out in his direction, mouth hanging slightly ajar. “I’m sorry, do you need something else from me, Patton?”

He was trying to keep the irritation out of his voice — he really was! But judging by the way Patton’s reaching fingers drooped, Logan couldn’t have been too successful.

“I just, uh…” Patton fumbled, seeming uncertain, as if even he didn’t know what had compelled him to call out like that. After a moment of stammering, he gestured vaguely at the cookie Logan now held. “I was... hoping that you could maybe take a bite of that right now. So I could get your feedback, you know? Because, um, I’m always looking for new ways to improve my baking, and… stuff. No pressure or anything, but I would —” In his doubt, Patton’s voice cracked. He coughed, then took a deep breath before completing his thought all in a rush of words: “I would really, really love to see what you think right as you’re taking the first bite, because that’s always the most genuine reaction. If that makes sense. I’m sorry, does that make any sense? Sorry.” As he finished speaking, Patton looked away with a slight cringe, as if already expecting a ‘no’.

Oh. That’s it? Logan’s shoulders lifted in an indifferent shrug — it was a simple enough request, after all — as he laid his belongings back down, save for the small thumbprint cookie at the core of all of this fuss and nonsense. “Very well.”

(The surprised smile he received in response was almost blinding in its brightness. Which seemed to Logan a disproportionate amount of excitement, but who was he to judge?)

With practiced precision, Logan bit the sweet treat almost perfectly in half to ensure the optimal jam-to-cookie ratio. Then, thoughtfully, he began to chew.

Understand, now: Logan was no food critic. But the young man had eaten enough thumbprint cookies in his life to know what he liked and what he disliked. And, well…

Patton’s baking, suffice it to say, easily fell on the “liking” side.

From what little Logan knew about the crumbly confection, thumbprint cookies were a relatively simple recipe to prepare. He’d even tried to bake a few of his own once. He’d set off the smoke alarm and startled his fathers half to death in the process, sure, yet still they had come out of the oven edible enough. The ingredients were simple, too: some butter. Brown sugar. Eggs. All-purpose flour, half a teaspoon of vanilla extract, a pinch of salt, a couple of walnuts for garnish, and of course, a spoonful (sometimes more) of Crofter’s jam in the middle of it all. Mix it all together, and bam! He had himself a delectable (albeit slightly burnt) dessert.

Patton’s cookies, though… they were on a whole other level. Objectively speaking, Logan wasn’t sure if it would be fair to call this ‘the best thumbprint cookie he’d ever had in his entire life’, but only because it was quite an impossible judgement to make; there were too many factors he’d have to take into consideration and at the moment, Logan cared to consider nothing more than the flavours of butter and vanilla and Crofter’s-blackberry-and-pomegranate jam exploding across his tongue.

The cookie was soft and powdery, but not so much so that there was no texture to it. The sugar levels were perfect — neither too sweet nor too bland. The vanilla extract underscored all the other flavours with a richness that was noticeable but not overpowering.

And the Crofter’s.

Good gracious, the Crofter’s.

Logan didn’t even remember putting the other half of the cookie in his mouth until he was already swallowing.

“So?” Patton’s voice, equal parts flustered, agitated, and excited, snapped Logan back to reality. “Is it — is it okay? Did I do good? Oh, no, wait, did I overdo the butter? I was worried about that but by the time I realized that I might have put in too much it was already mixed in and I couldn’t exactly reach in and pull it out of the batter anym—”

“Patton,” Logan broke in softly.

The boy seemed to choke. “Um. Yes?”

“I… That was…”

For the first time in forever, Logan found himself at a loss for words. Praise never really had been his strong suit to begin with; now, the ever-logical boy wasn’t even certain he possessed the vocabulary to describe what he was feeling inside. He cast about for adjectives, eventually landing on the first one to come to mind:

“... adequate. Thank you.”

For some reason, no sooner than the words left his mouth, Patton visibly deflated. Huh? Logan had given a compliment, hadn’t he? So why did the person on the receiving end appear so upset?

“Oh. ‘Adequate.’ Okay… There’s, um, there’s some room for improvement there, huh?” Patton said, managing a weak laugh.

Logan’s eyebrows shot up at the sound of it. “Ah, no — no no no. You misunderstand, Patton, I didn’t mean to imply your baking to somehow be ‘barely enough’. I thought it was delicious, actually. Very impressive.”

"Do you really mean that, though?”

“Do you think I would lie to you?” replied Logan. “I meant what I said, and I said what I meant. You have a remarkably high degree of skill. The jam-to-cookie ratio? Simply divine! And don’t even get me started on...” As Logan continued to speak, matter-of-factly listing off the good things he’d noticed as he ate, he gestured with his free hand to help articulate his points. And with every wave of his wrist, the dejected boy before him seemed to perk up a little more. Patton was positively glowing by the time Logan finished.

It took him a moment to find his voice, though. “Logan, I can’t believe…” And when he did, it was barely above a whisper. “That’s — that was so nice.”

Logan began to reply before stopping and squinting carefully. Were those tears in Patton’s eyes? “Patton, are you okay?”

“More than okay. I just…” Patton paused, composed himself. “You just caught me off guard; no one’s ever said so much about my baking. Or anything I do, really. So, it — um, it means a lot. Especially coming from someone like you.”

Logan wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Was he supposed to apologise? No, Patton appeared to be happy, if a little overwhelmed. So… what, did that mean, then? Should he try to come up with something else to talk about? Or perhaps he was supposed to exit the conversation now. He’d done what Patton had requested, after all, and Patton seemed to be satisfied with the results. Plus, if he wanted to get any work done this period, now was probably the time to do so.

(Ugh, Logan thinks. This is exactly why I try to avoid social interaction.)

Luckily, he was spared from having to make the decision when Patton went ahead and made it for him. Whether or not that was because Patton had taken notice of Logan’s unease, the older boy wasn’t certain, but he was grateful nonetheless.

The boy with the cookies gave Logan a crooked smile as he said, “I won’t hold you up any longer. You’ve probably got somewhere to be right now. You were on your way to the library when I interrupted you, right?”

Logan’s surprise must have shown on his face, because Patton chuckled. Balancing the plate of cookies on one hand, he pointed at Logan’s laptop and Science textbook with the other.

“I noticed you had a bunch of homework-related stuff with you, and since the library is really close to the Home Ec corridor, I thought…” He shrugged.

“I — well, you thought right. Quite an astute observation, Patton.”

“Didn’t think I was capable of drawing inferences like that, did ya?”

Logan blinked. “I’m almost even more surprised that you knew and accurately utilised the word inferences,” he confessed.

“I know big words too! Sssssaxophone…” Patton began to number off items on his fingers before seeming to remember what he’d been saying. “Anyway, I’ll let you go now, Logan. These cookies aren’t gonna hand themselves out.”

Logan nodded. A quick glance at his watch told him that if he left for the library now, he’d have just enough time to finish reading the textbook pages he needed to go over, and perhaps if he really hurried he would be able to get started on the review questions as well. “I suppose I’ll see you around then.”

“Yep! Uh, before you leave, though, did you maybe want to grab another cookie?” asked Patton. “Help yourself, I’ve got plenty. Enough that I probably won’t even be able to get rid of all of these by the end of the break, and I don’t think that Mrs. Lauren would like it very much if I showed up to Math class with a whole bunch of leftovers and nowhere to put them.” Patton held out the plate again as he spoke, genuinely hopeful. He wasn’t just offering out of courtesy, apparently; for whatever reason, Patton really did want Logan to have another one (or two or four).

And, looking at the wonderful variety of Crofter’s jam still on display and free for the taking, Logan would have hated to disappoint.

“If you insist…”

***

Silverware clinked against silverware in the Berrys’ dining room that evening, softly punctuating the amicable chatter drifting back and forth between bites of their meal. Well, it was mostly Logan’s dad who was doing the chatting, to be fair; his pop always had been the quieter of the pair.

That wasn’t to say that Logan and his pop never spoke, of course. In fact, every night, without fail, his pop would ask the same thing: “Anything interesting happen at school today?”

An invitation to talk. Not a command. His pop always gave him a choice, a fact which Logan was not ungrateful for; the amount of mutual respect between father and son in his family wasn’t exactly the norm, he knew, and he loved them dearly for it.

Most nights, Logan’s choice was to politely decline with a vague statement — no no, nothing much, same old same old... Neither Logan’s pop nor his dad would push for any more details after that; their teen kid needed his privacy, after all. The conversation would quickly return to Seth and Toby’s comfortable back-and-forth, with Logan occasionally jumping in where he saw fit, all the way until their plates were empty and their stomachs full. One of them would bring the dishes to the sink and wash them. Someone else would wipe the table. The last person remaining packed up the leftovers, and life went on as normal.

Not tonight, though.

At first, Logan hadn’t considered his lunch-hour conversation with Patton to be anything really worth noting; it was a break from his regular schedule, for sure, but the strange, stammering exchange didn’t exactly count as life-changing (although the cookies might have been). Yet as the day dragged on, he found his thoughts drifting back to that same conversation over and over and over again. It was only after the final bell of the day had already sounded that Logan understood why.

As gratifying as it had been to see Patton so pleased after receiving Logan’s feedback, the logical-minded boy couldn’t help but feel like Patton had responded with a disproportionate amount of enthusiasm when he took into consideration the minimal amount of praise he’d actually given. Patton may not have cried, but Logan could recall seeing tears brimming in Patton’s eyes and knew that the boy had definitely come close!

That said, though… just as he’d previously acknowledged, emotions were definitely not Logan’s strong suit. So had Patton’s reaction truly been an overreaction, or — as could very well be the case — was Logan just even less skilled at reading people than he thought?

In order to properly figure out what had happened at lunch, Logan would need a second opinion.

He could think of no better candidates than his fathers.

Logan trusted his dad and pop more than anyone else in the world. Both were incredibly clever people — not to mention compassionate, kind, and patient. If anyone could help him work this question of his out, it would be them.

So when pop asked Logan the usual question, anything interesting happen at school today?, Logan gathered his thoughts and responded, “Actually, yes.”

His parents hadn't been expecting that — Logan could tell from the way that the two of them paused, his dad’s fork still halfway to his open mouth and a stalk of celery speared on its tongs. Toby ignored it in favour of making eye contact with his husband. As something unspoken passed between them, Logan watched on in… not quite amusement, but something like that.

He’d always thought it curious that his fathers shared a strong enough bond to be able to hold full conversations using only facial expressions. In fact, had Logan not so often seen these conversations in action first-hand, he likely wouldn’t have believed it possible. With the English language — and indeed, any other language in the world — as intricately put together as it was, the idea that one might need no language at all to communicate seemed almost fantastical in nature.

And yet...

The first time that Logan had noticed his fathers staring silently at each other across the room like this, the then-much-younger boy had put down his toy train immediately and wandered over to tug on his pop’s sleeve. Pop, he'd asked, why are you looking at dad all weird?

To which Seth had scooped the boy up onto his lap, replying with an affectionate smile: Oh, we’re just having a little chat, little Lo.

No you’re not! You're not talking at all! Logan had insisted with a surprising amount of vehemence. If you're talking, how come your mouths aren’t moving, huh? You’re just making silly faces at each other, and that's that. He had sat up straight on his father’s lap as he finished talking, proud of his amazing powers of observation.

On the other side of the room, Dad chuckled. Well, yes, it’s true that usually people talk with their mouths, but your pop and I are special. You know why, Logan?

Curiosity piqued at the sly expression on his father’s face, Logan had asked, Why?

A conspiratorial whisper: Because we’ve got superpowers!

What? No way, those aren't real! ...Are they?

Are too. Your pop and I, we can talk to each other by using our brainwaves to send these, uh.... these super-special, super-secret mental messages. But don’t tell anyone, okay?

Dad, that’s so cool! I wanna learn how to do men… mint tall… minty messages, too! Logan had slid right off of his pop’s legs and bounded over to the other side of the living room as fast as his chubby little legs could carry him. Eyes wide and shining as he looked up at his dad, Logan had asked, Can you teach me how to do the minty messages?

In answer, Toby had reached out and hoisted his young son up to sit on the couch next to him, fondly mussing up Logan's hair a little before looking him very seriously in the eye. Are you sure you’re ready to learn, Logan? The ancient art of my minty messages is a very important practice that goes way back, all the way to your great, great, great, many-greats grandmother… Darth Vader.

He'd puffed out his cheeks. Come on, dad, be serious! he scoffed (as well as a four-year-old boy could scoff, anyway). You can't trick me — Darth Vader's not my granny. Or else we'd all have lightsabers and live on the moon. The boy nodded to himself, completely satisfied with his irrefutable logic.

You’re right, you’re right. Always keeping me in check, aren't you, pipsqueak? A loving pinch caused Logan to dissolve into a fit of giggles. When he calmed down, dad told him, Okay, you passed my test. I’m going to tell you the secret to sending my minty messages ...

Logan had held his breath as his dad bent down to whisper. The secret , he confessed, is love.

The young analyst’s face had instantly scrunched up in confusion. Love? How does that work?

Well, you see, piped up pop, jumping back into the conversation as he saw where his husband was taking it, your dad and I love each other very much — more than we love anything else in the entire world!

(Except maybe Halloween, Toby said under his breath.)

So we have a very special connection that lets us talk to each other even when we’re not saying anything. This is very serious magic, Logan. It doesn’t just instantly appear at first sight; it takes time, and it takes work. And it might be a long time before you meet someone willing to work for it with you, but don’t worry if that’s the case, kiddo — I promise that one day, you will meet someone who loves and understands you so much that you can talk to them with just one look.

Every connection looks different, by the way, added Toby. Your pop and I share one kind of love, but there’s a whole bunch of different types out there that are all just as good! Maybe the person who you grow close to will be a really, really good friend. Maybe they’ll be something a little different than friends. Maybe they won’t just be one person, but lots! Whoever they might be, though, your whole life is gonna change when you find ‘em.

And then I’ll be able to make the minty messages?

A fond chuckle. And then you’ll be able to make the minty messages. I promise.

Though Logan typically did his best to forget about how badly he’d butchered the word ‘mental’, those last sentences had stuck with the boy as he grew older. Through the years, he would find comfort in the promise of someday having someone by his side who he could talk to without struggle — who’d take the time to listen to him — who’d take the time to understand him.

Recently, though, he’d been wondering if maybe it was too good to be true… as someone inexperienced both in giving and receiving love, it was difficult to imagine any reason that anyone should put up with Logan for even a second longer than they needed to.

And yet in spite of it all, Logan knew he’d never stop hoping to meet someone who would care for him as deeply as his fathers cared for each other. Though he had long since stopped actively searching for a friend as true as the one his dad had described, he doubted he’d ever be able to shake the idea for good (so deep did Logan’s trust in his fathers run, he’d believe blindly and without hesitation even the most outlandish of promises coming from one of them).

In the meantime, though, Logan had someone else on his mind: not the best friend of his dreams, perhaps, but considering how glad they’d seemed to see him, they might as well have been. Logan waited for his fathers to finish their silent discussion so he could continue.

He didn’t need to wait much. With both dad and pop beyond thrilled to be granted this rare glimpse into their son’s thoughts, it wasn’t long before both sets of eyes turned to face him. “Well, go right ahead then. Tell us what’s on your mind,” Logan’s dad said, trying to conceal his eagerness by keeping his tone even.

It didn’t quite work, but Logan appreciated the effort.

“I saw my student Patton Foley at school for the first time today. During lunch hour. It… well, suffice it to say, it was an interesting encounter. And admittedly a little confusing.” Logan paused.

“Mhm?” Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, Seth’s thoughtful nodding prompted his son to go on. “And why’s that, huh?”

“Because it seems that each time I see Patton, he becomes a completely different person,” Logan began. “The way his personality just keeps rapidly developing so unpredictably, well… I can’t say it’s bad, but odd is a good word for it. The first time I met him at the library, for example, he was — how do I describe this?”

“With adjectives,” Toby supplied helpfully.

“Ah. Well then: disorganised, bothersome, and incompliant , to name a few. He had trouble focusing and listening, and was apparently unaware of what a nuisance his obnoxiously cheerful chatter must have been to everyone around us. It was only after I gave him a stern talking to that he managed to stay quiet for long enough that I could get out full sentences without being interrupted.”

His dad grimaced. “Sounds like a real piece of work.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought too. But you see, during our second session it was like he did a complete one-eighty. He listened attentively, but I barely heard his voice even once, besides right at the beginning of our session when he was apologising for being late. Which was nice at first, until it became apparent we’d wasted half the session because he was too shy to ask questions. I don’t think I saw him smile a single time either.”

“Huh… how about the third session?”

“Well, I didn’t get a headache for once, so interpret that how you’d like?” Logan shrugged. “I mean, he was very polite, which of course was an improvement. And he somehow managed to show up at the library even earlier than I did. His focus once we got down to business was unprecedented, he asked questions when he was confused just like I’d told him to do, he was… to put it simply, I don’t think it would be much of a stretch to call that specific version of Patton a ‘model student’. Where it came from, I haven’t the foggiest. I can only hope I’ll get to see it again.

“Then finally, there was today. I… still haven’t quite wrapped my head around today’s Patton, to be frank. He laughed freely, he seemed comfortable to just chat, and he even offered me some delicious thumbprint cookies that he had just finished baking! There were still moments where he appeared to be nervous, yes, but they were few and far between, and somehow felt different — like a completely separate kind of nervous. Mostly, he seemed to simply be… happy.”

At the last word, Logan’s pop perked up hopefully. “Well, that’s good, right?”

"Too happy,” amended Logan. “I mean falling-all-over-himself-with-glee kind of happy. I complimented his baking, sure, but hardly sugarcoated anything, so it seemed odd that he would take it to heart so much. That’s why I’m telling you all this, I guess — I’m hoping that you can help me figure the boy out!”

As Logan finished his explanation, he suddenly became aware his food must be growing cold. He hadn’t been expecting to talk so much, or for so long, but Logan supposed his words had gotten away from him and he’d begun…

Rambling.

Perhaps all of the prolonged Patton-exposure was having more of an impact on his behaviour than Logan had thought.

The good news was, neither of his fathers minded his long-windedness very much. Or at all, in fact. It wasn’t often that they had their son open up to them so thoroughly, and with so little prompting to boot. Seth and Toby intended to make the most of every second of this little advice session.

The bad news? Neither had any idea where to start.

Nevertheless, Logan’s fathers were determined to try. Toby began by asking for more details. “So… freshly baked cookies, huh?” he started, trying for a conversational tone (with dubious results). “Could I hear a little more about that? I mean, I kind of know what structure you guys like to follow during your tutoring sessions, but at lunch anything goes, so the only way I’m going to get an idea of what happened today is if you tell me directly.” Logan’s dad was careful to use phrases like could I and if you as he spoke, subtle reminders that Logan was under no kind of obligation to share any of these details if he didn��t want to. Sure, they would be helpful in ‘figuring out’ Patton, but Logan’s privacy and comfort was the priority here.

It turned out that Toby really had no need to be so careful with his word choice, though; amazingly, Logan didn’t hesitate before blazing right on ahead. He must be really determined to work this thing out, marvelled Toby. He couldn’t for the life of him remember the last time that Logan had spoken so freely about personal matters like this.

“Of course — today, during lunch, I was on my way to the library like usual to get some work finished early, but I had taken a detour and so I was a few minutes delayed.” Logan recounted the events of the afternoon so methodically, his dad couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been rehearsing this. “During this time, I assume, Patton was in his Home Economics classroom loading up a plate full of extra cookies he had just finished baking. I just happened to be passing by the Tech and Home Ec wing when Patton came out as well. We narrowly avoided collision, then naturally got to chatting as he recognized me, and I, him. It was then that I accidentally made a p—”

Logan’s eyes widened.

“I mean, uh…”

“Sorry, you accidentally made a what?” His pop’s head was tilted at a slight angle, the very image of innocence and curiosity. “I didn’t quite catch that last bit, you kind of trailed off.”

Oh my goodness, he’s really going to make me say it, isn’t he. Logan pressed his lips together, staring up at the ceiling as if it might provide some sort of escape from the hole he’d accidentally dug himself into, before ducking his head and shamefully finishing his sentence. “I accidentally made a… pun.”

The delighted gasp that followed, Logan couldn’t say he wasn’t expecting, but it certainly didn’t sting any less for it.

“You made a — Logan! That’s my boy!” On the other side of the table, Logan heard rather than saw his dad light up. “Grab the camera, Seth, this is a moment for the scrapbook. No, forget the scrapbook, I’m going to carve a plaque to commemorate this day! I’ll do it, I swear. Just watch me!”

“Yep, okay, thanks dad,” Logan sighed, very much wishing he could bury his head in the floorboards. “More to the point, that’s, uh, that’s pretty much how Patton reacted. He noticed it right away, even before I did, and just started laughing and laughing — but not in a mean-spirited sort of way. As if he was laughing with me, not at me, if that makes sense. Except I wasn’t laughing. But that’s not important.” Logan gave his wrist a flick, as if batting away the irrelevant dialogue. “Anyway, I wanted to change the subject after that. For obvious reasons. So I asked him about the thumbprint cookies on his plate, and he offered me one. And I was going to say no, really, since I had work to do, but — well, by then a pretty decent amount of time had already passed us by.” A brief pause. “Not to mention... they were baked with Crofter’s. So, you know, I could hardly say no.”

Both fathers nodded knowingly at that. (The fondness for the fruit spread ran in the family; had either of them been in Logan’s shoes, they would have done the same.) “Go on.”

Logan obliged, walking his fathers through the rest of the lunch period in a similarly systematic fashion. “...so there you have it,” he finally concluded. “I made some humiliating mistakes and gave him a compliment or two; in return, Patton very nearly cried with joy. I mean, who knew that such buffoonery would bear fruit so — so divine?”

“Bear fruit , huh?” His pop pointed a cheeky finger. ”Dad joke?”

“Never mind, this was a mistake.”

"Wait, no! I’ll be serious, I swear. Look, maybe, uh...” Seth trailed off as he realized he didn’t know what he was getting at. “Maybe —“

“Maybe the poor kid’s just so used to hearing you lecture him like a mean old teacher that a handful of nice words were enough to make his day,” supplied Toby, not too seriously. “Back off a little bit, eh? Else, he’s gonna start thinking you hate him, and you’ll have no one but yourself to blame...”

“Wh — Toby!”

“I’m joking, relax! Logan, you know I’m just joking, right?”

No answer.

“Lo?”

“Actually...” Logan began.

Because joking or not, there was a ring of truth to his dad’s words.

Maybe he was being too hard on Patton. It made sense: earlier today, Patton had said that Logan’s compliment meant a lot ‘coming from someone like you’. Logan hadn’t quite understood the implications at the time, but…

Someone cold. Someone distant. Someone unfriendly, someone who never even gave friendship a thought, someone who spat in the very face of it. Someone like me. That was how he was perceived by most people, wasn’t it? Which, up until now, had been all well and good with him.

So why did the thought that Patton might share the same sentiments make him feel so bad?

Before Logan could answer that question, his dad’s concerned voice broke into his thoughts. “Logan? Logan, bud, please don’t be mad, I really was just messing with you! I didn’t mean to imply I know how to do your job better than —”

“What I was going to say was, I think you might be onto something, dad,” Logan interrupted.

“I... huh? What do you mean?”

But once again, there was no answer. Logan was already deep in thought as he picked up his fork to resume eating, effectively ending the conversation — much to the very vocal confusion of his dad.

(His husband eventually quieted his loud protests when he laid a hand on his shoulder, quietly murmuring, “Give it up, love, you won’t get through to him like this. Look.” Seth nodded to their son. “See? He’s already tuned you out. You know what happens when Logan gets an idea in his head; he just takes it and runs with it, that boy does, and…”)

Something in his mind clearly set Patton apart from others, Logan knew; now, if he could only figure out what , perhaps he’d have his answer.

Well, he knew who he was in Patton’s eyes, at least. Maybe it was time to reflect on the reverse.

Where Logan was cold, Patton was warm. Logan was distant; Patton, approachable. Kind. Willing to change. Friendly, and really genuinely interested in making friends, it seemed. In other words, Patton was —

Everything I wish to be —

— everything Logan was not, that is. And wasn’t that just something strange?

(Nodding, Toby finished his husband’s sentence: “…once he’s in the zone, there’s hardly anything that can get him out,” he said, laughing a little at himself. “You’re right. As always. How do you do that?”)

This could nicely explain why Logan felt he wasn’t being as effective as possible in his teaching, as well. He’d been approaching these sessions all wrong; he’d been teaching based on how he’d like to learn, rather than what Patton actually needed.

Logan was a student of measurements, after all — of facts, and figures, and careful calculations. But when it came to Patton, he could only guess. And guess what?... Logan did not like guessing games.

He’d need to, though. He’d need to figure out Patton’s own learning style, instead of trying to force the boy to conform to his own, if he ever wanted this tutoring arrangement to work.

(Seth shrugged. “It’s pretty simple, hon, I just spend less time talking and more time watching. I mean, how lucky am I to have a husband who can take care of the chatter for me?”)

And to do that, Logan would need to step way out of his own comfort zone. How could he ever properly understand his student if he wasn’t willing to contribute a little companionship himself?

Efficiency be damned — Logan was going to do his job, and he was going to do it properly. And if that meant he’d need to put in a little extra work to figure out how to achieve a healthy balance between both schooling and sympathy, then so be it!

(“Goodness gracious me, you really are perfect,” sighed Toby. “Promise me you’ll never change.”)

To be quite frank, Logan probably should have drawn this conclusion a lot sooner. Had he not only recently been reading those fascinating articles about positive and negative reinforcement?

In Patton’s specific case, yes, achieving a close and intimate emotional connection was without a doubt the best way to create an ideal learning environment because of how emotional the boy was — but the strict and unkind way that Logan had been approaching his sessions wouldn’t have worked even if he had been paired with someone much less touchy-feely, he realized now.

Time and time and time again it had been proven that when it came to motivation via either offering a reward for good behaviour and threatening a punishment for undesirable behaviour, the reward almost always worked out better for the subject in the long run. Didn’t that mean that praising a student when they did well would be ultimately much more effective than scolding the same student for failing to understand a concept?

(Seth scoffed in disbelief. “Me? Perfect? Ha!” He leaned in as if sharing a sensitive secret. “Have you even looked at yourself?”)

It was all so clear. The conversation that he’d had with Patton during lunch today only served as further proof that —

(“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re clearly the superior one here.” Toby and Seth’s faces were very close together now. “And I’ll bet you anything that you’re the better kisser, too.”)

Ahem. Further proof that Logan’s teaching methods were —

(“Oh, is that right. That’s an awfully bold claim, you know… are you sure it’ll be able to follow through?”)

Were — were due for some —

(“Why don’t we put it to the test and find out —?”)

Unable to stand it any longer, Logan suddenly slammed his fork down. “Dad! Pop!” His parents pulled apart with a jolt. “Can’t you at least wait for me to leave the table? Your son is right here, you know.”

Toby rubbed his knee, which had smacked against the bottom of the table in his surprise, while Seth gave their son a guilty smile. “Right. Sorry, Logan. I, uh, guess we forgot ourselves for a second there?”

Rolling his eyes at his fathers’ antics, Logan scraped the last bit of food off of his plate to ensure that nothing was wasted. “May I be excused? Immediately.”

“Of… of course,” responded Logan’s pop, still a little sheepish. “Don’t worry about the dishes; your dad and I are going to stay here and finish eating at our own pace, so you can just wash your own plate and we’ll take care of the rest.”

Translation: Your dad and I are going to stay here and probably make out with each other over the table as soon as there’s a wall safely separating us from you. Logan made a face — how shameless they are, he thought — but did what he was told without complaint.

Later, once he’d found a seat on one of the many beanbag chairs in his bedroom, Logan returned his focus to the topic he’d been reflecting on before his fathers’ antics had distracted him. Positive and negative reinforcement… Ah, yes.

The conversation that he’d had with Patton during lunch today only served as further proof that Logan’s teaching methods were due for some change. After having seen firsthand how positively Patton reacted to praise, perhaps Logan ought to give a little more of it during his next session. It couldn’t hurt, right?

Wrong, Logan realized. The increased effectiveness of his teaching was going to come at a price, and a hefty one at that: in order to achieve all that he was setting out to do, he would need to come face-to-face with — ugh —

"Feelings, the bane of my existence,” Logan grumbled.

***

[next chapter]

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