#and nobody was projecting anything and everyone had a good day of fishing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fruitcoops · 4 years

Note

Hey I was wondering if you could write something kinda angsty but with a pretty ending with the cubs, I’m trynna project getting stood up and turning it into something nice and good, even if it’s just in my head. No pressure but I just wanna smile for a bit and your work always makes me do so :)))

Hello lovely! I’m so sorry that you were stood up--that feels awful and whoever did it missed out on a wonderful person. I’ve combined this with some other asks in the same vein (y’all wanted my boys to hurt) so I hope you don’t mind. Sending love and hugs your way! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

1. Bad mental health day for Finn + pushing himself too hard + passing out (ft. Bee anon!)

2. O’Knutzy boiling over with a fluffy ending

3. Insecure Leo

TW for internalized guilt, vaguely implied self-harm (pushing himself too hard at practice), and relationship arguments

Finn had a few bad habits. He left dirty dishes in the sink, could never remember which setting the laundry was supposed to go on, and barely wiped his shoes on the doormat before entering the house. He wasn’t proud of his flaws, but he acknowledged that everyone had some—as long as they didn’t hurt anybody, it wasn’t the end of the world.

This one…this one was different. Even Finn knew that.

He gritted his teeth for the next set of squats, ignoring the ringing in his ears and the climbing nausea in his gut. The chart only said to do three reps, but he had been beating himself up for slacking a set earlier in the week and decided to do five to make up for it.

That, it seemed, was a poor decision.

His thighs were shaking when he finally put the weight down and he leaned on the wall to stabilize himself. “Fish? You okay?” Logan asked from the yoga mat to his right, staring up at him in concern.

“I’m fine,” Finn lied. “Just straightened up too fast.”

“D’accord.” He could feel Logan’s eyes on his back as he left the gym and headed toward the showers.

Finn’s worst habit was taking care of himself, and it wasn’t something that could be explained away as “oh, silly Harzy” like the washing machine. He made a mental note to take some ibuprofen before driving home so he would be marginally less sore in the morning, but he had the sinking feeling it would be a rough practice the next day.

Remus and Talker were playing some sort of volleyball with an old balloon between their stalls when he entered; he missed getting nailed in the head by a narrow margin and waved off their apologies with a forced smile.

A hand closed around his bicep as he passed, snapping him back to reality as Leo’s bright eyes came into focus. “Hey, lovey, is Lo with you?”

“He’s finishing up.”

A small furrow appeared between Leo’s brows. “Is something wrong?”

“Nope.” Finn faked a yawn and stretched his arm over Leo’s shoulder, dragging him down for a kiss on the cheek. “Cap’s workout just kicked my ass today.”

“That’s what they’re supposed to do,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes playfully as he passed. “You’re not a rookie anymore, O’Hara.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.”

Logan entered the locker room a few minutes later; Finn closed his eyes and breathed in the thick steam of the shower until the fog in his head cleared a bit and he couldn’t feel the skin on his shoulders. It billowed off him as he dressed again and tossed the keys to Leo, who raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“You. There’s a little bit of slush left, and you still need to learn how to drive in it.” And I feel like I’m going to pass out at any minute. He swallowed down the last thought and pasted a teasing grin on his face—what Leo and Logan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. It was his own fault for being lazy in the past.

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

What Leo and Logan didn’t know apparently did hurt them. In hindsight, Finn should have seen that coming before he passed out in the middle of a scrimmage.

The lights of the coach’s office made his headache even worse. “Care to explain?” Arthur asked in a voice like frost. To his left, Sirius was glowering.

“I already told Hestia—”

“Yeah, I know what you told Hestia,” Arthur interrupted. “I want to hear it directly from you.”

Finn sighed through his nose and picked at a stray thread on his jersey. “I…I pushed myself a little too hard at yesterday’s practice and didn’t say anything when I started feeling bad.”

“Why.” Sirius’ eyes were hard as flint.

“Because I didn’t want to be a pain in the ass! I can handle some aching muscles, it’s not a big deal!”

“Not a—”

Arthur put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “That’s enough, Black. O’Hara, I want you to look me in the eyes.” Finn raised his head. “This was a dumbass mistake and all of us expected better from you. Your safety and health come before any workout routine, and it is your responsibility to speak up before you scare the shit out of us by dropping like a rock.”

“I’m sorry, Coach.”

“Apology accepted. I also want you to call Heather when you get home and schedule an appointment with her.” Some of Arthur’s frustration melted into genuine concern and guilt crawled up Finn’s throat. “Doing that to yourself isn’t healthy, Finn. You’re a good man, smart, and I know you know better.”

“Can we talk for a second?” Sirius asked quietly, glancing at Arthur. He nodded and left the room.

“I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck, Finn?” Sirius ran a hand down his face, suddenly pale. “What the fuck was that?”

“It was stupid.”

“Yeah, no, I got that part.”

“I slacked off a set on Monday.”

“Wow, nobody’s ever done that before,” he said sarcastically, sitting down in the chair by the wall as Finn resumed messing with his hem. “You scared the hell out of all of us.”

“I know.”

“You know I’m not mad at you, right? I’m upset that you thought you had to do that at all.”

Tears prickled the backs of Finn’s eyes. “I know.”

“I’m sure as hell not your coach or your dad, but I’m going to say this as your friend, okay?” Sirius leaned over into Finn’s field of view. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you. This team wouldn’t be the same without you. I wouldn’t be the same without you. We need you to take care of yourself, Harzy.”

Finn nodded silently and Sirius gave his hand a quick squeeze, which he returned. “Does everyone know?”

“I told them you were under the weather, nothing more.”

“Classic media answer.” He tried and failed to crack a smile. “Thanks for not telling on me.”

“That’s not my job. My job is herding cats on ice skates for five hours a day.”

Finn’s smile was real that time and he managed a light laugh as he swiped away the dampness on his cheeks. “Love you, man.”

“Love you, too.” Sirius helped him stand up and hugged him tight for a second before letting go. “Speaking as someone who used to do the exact same thing, talking to Heather makes a world of difference.”

“I’ll give her a call.”

The cold feeling returned to Finn’s gut when they stepped out of the office; Leo and Logan were waiting by the opposite wall, looking angrier than Finn had ever seen. Sirius patted his shoulder once before walking off down the hallway toward the locker room, where he would no doubt deflect even more questions.

“Hey,” Finn said, barely above a whisper. Logan continued to stare at the ground.

“You lied to us,” Leo said bluntly. “Several times. Both of us asked if you were alright and you told us you were fine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I accept your apology, but I don’t understand.” He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Finn, this isn’t how we deal with things. We agreed to be a team.”

Finn bit his lip. I fucked this one up. “We did. I am so sorry for scaring you—”

“We’re not mad that you scared us,” Logan snapped, still looking anywhere but his face. “We’re upset that you refuse to take care of yourself and then lied to us about it.”

Leo nudged Logan’s shoulder before turning back. “Why did you do that, Finn?”

“I didn’t want to fall behind. I was just trying to make up for the set I skipped on Monday.”

“What? Twenty squats and some pushups? That’s not worth your health, honey.” The pet name soothed the terror clutching Finn’s heart and he took a deep breath. They still loved him. This wasn’t the end.

“It was a stupid thing to do and it won’t happen again.”

“Good. Let’s go home.” Logan grabbed his duffel bag off the ground and started walking toward the door; Leo looked like he was going to say something, but Finn gently took his elbow.

“He’s going to need a minute,” he said under his breath. Logan was a hothead about many things, but lying was in the top three. Finn knew he hurt him deep.

“Did you…” Leo trailed off and pressed his lips together as they followed Logan into the parking lot. “Did you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”

Finn shook his head. “No. This was all on me.”

“It’s just that I know I’m younger than both of you and I’m new to the hockey lifestyle, but I never want you to think you can’t trust me—”

“Leo.” Finn stopped walking and tugged on Leo’s hand, turning him around. Worry was painted all over his face and it sliced to Finn’s core. “I trust you and Logan with everything, but I got into my head about this and I wasn’t thinking about how it would hurt you. Please believe that.”

Leo sighed. “I do. I just don’t get it.”

“Neither do I, to be honest.” Logan was already sitting in the car with his headphones on as they crossed the lot. “It’s going to take him a while to talk to me, isn’t it?”

“He was really upset.”

“We’ll figure this out.” He tightened his grip on Leo’s hand. “We’ve made it through worse.”

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

The apartment crackled with tension until Finn literally had to stick his head out the open window to get a breath of fresh air. Waves of frustration and hurt rolled off Logan, though he still refused to look Finn in the eyes.

After dinner, Leo slid into the armchair before Logan could get there, leaving only the couch available. They carefully sat on opposite sides—Finn stole glances at Logan out of the corner of his eye for the entire first half of the movie. Ninety minutes of action later, he felt something chilly poking at his calf.

Logan kept his gaze trained on the TV as he scooted his freezing toes under Finn’s legs. Relief flooded Finn’s veins; he felt a little like crying, but instead schooled his expression into a small smile and rested his hand on Logan’s ankle, where it stayed until the movie ended.

Leo had fallen asleep by that time, splayed out sideways on the cushion with his face smushed against the armrest. “Il est mignon,” Logan said softly. There was a beat of silence and he looked over at Finn. “He’s cute.”

“He is.” Finn cleared his throat and met his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lo. I never meant to hurt you, but I did, and I’m sorry.”

“Promise me you won’t do that again.”

“I won’t.”

Finn had a few bad habits, but backing out on his promises would never be one of them.

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pasiveagressive · 3 years

Text

Pen Pal // h.s.

Warning: light language, there is a mention of self harm, and some verbal abuse.

Highschool AU This is really long for me 9.4k words and it’s not really done I am thinking a part 2 and maybe even a 3. Let me know what you think!

When she was five she was given a project from her teacher saying that she had to write to a pen pal. She had no idea what a pen pal was and how she got one, but she had told the class that a pen pal was someone who lived far away and we wrote a letter to them. Their letters were going to England to another class and they had to write them and they had to write back. This sounded fun. Teacher had a hat in her hands and when she passed it around we had to pick out a piece of paper that contained a name and an address. She took her's out and saw the name, it was a boy, she didn't like boys, well that wasn't true, the only boy's she liked were her brother, her best friend and her daddy. The teacher told the class they had to write to their pen pals for the whole school year.

#####

When she was ten, she still wrote to her pen pal, she didn't understand why she had been writing him for the last five years, but she had been. He was funny and easy to talk too, she thought that perhaps this boy was going to be her first crush, something she thought one of her brother's friends would be, but she was pretty sure this boy was. He helped her through a lot, like when Mommy and Daddy argued and doors slammed or when Mommy packed up her suitcases and left or when Daddy didn't come down from his room and her brother had to take care of her or when Daddy changed. He helped her a lot, and she helped him too, they sometimes even helped each other with their homework. She had found a true friend in him, and she hoped he felt the same about her.

#####

When she was twelve her Daddy let her have an E-Mail and she told the boy, he too had an E-mail and they talked on MSN all the time, but they still wrote letters to each other, personally hand written pieces of paper seemed much nicer than typed words on a screen. Her brother was about to be in high school now and she would be starting middle school next year. The boy had started middle school this year and it was the first time, she realized, that she knew how old he was. They would talk about homework; friends and she asked him questions about boys. The boy didn't answer a lot of them but she didn't mind, the only boy she cared about noticing her was him, but then something dawned on her. They may never meet.

When she was fifteen she started High School and the boy was a year ahead of her. Her mother had returned to the city, remarried, and she wanted to see her children, but she refused to go, as far as she was concerned her mother had abandoned her and her brother and her Father had taken care of them, but he had changed even more. Her brother would soon be off to college and she would still be here, her father wasn't so bad, only when he disapproved of something did he get angry, he never struck her, her brother would never allow it, he was protective over his baby sister especially now that boy's had started to notice her. She still wrote to the boy and told him all about her problems, it had been ten years and she could still confide in him and he confided in her and she liked it that way. It meant that somewhere she had someone who cared, someone who listened. Someone who knew her better than anyone.

###

She was sixteen when her world began to change, she still wrote to the boy and now she had a boyfriend, one of her brother's friends, she was a cheerleader and he was a soccer player and was on the swim team. Then she got a letter, it said that he had received a scholarship to her school and he was coming to New York, she was ecstatic and began to write him back when the pen suddenly fell from her hands as she realized something she had been denying. She had feelings for the boy with the elegant handwriting and who always wrote in blue pen. He couldn't come here, not when she had a boyfriend, but who was she kidding, they didn't know what each other looked like, so maybe she could hide who she was from him, the only thing he knew about he was her name and there was more than one Y/N in her school, but he never called her by her real name, when he was ten he gave her a nickname and nobody knew it except for him. She realized how ridiculous she was being, this boy had no romantic interest in her and if he did, what did it matter? She has a boyfriend now.

What she didn't know was when he came to New York her whole life would change and he would be a part of that change.

She had feelings for the boy with the elegant script and blue pen, and they were not going to go away.

"Ugh, how can you eat so much?"

Y/N Y/L/N looked at a friend with thinly veiled disgust, she had no idea where Maya put it all and considering she was eating cafeteria food, it made it just that much worse. Especially because today's menu was all seafood.

"Excuse me for being one of the few girls in the world that acknowledges a love for food." She said and then took a bite out of a fish stick and grinned.

"Hey, I like food just not too much." Y/N said, eyeing what could only be Maya's twentieth piece of fried fish.

"That's because you, my friend, are a cheerleader and must stay in impeccable shape." Maya winked and then went back to eating.

Y/N sighed, it was true, part of the reason as to why she didn't eat a lot was cheerleading, she needed to stay small so she could tumble and be thrown in the air. Maya seemed to resent her for the fact that she was a cheerleader, but Y/N could not help it if Maya did not have great hand eye coordination. She knew Maya didn't really like her, but she put up with having her around because Will and Joel liked her. She didn't know why Maya hated her, she thought it was partly because she was part of the in crowd and Maya thought that they were all snobs.

Y/N was no snob.

Someone patted her head and she turned to look and was looking into the kind eyes of her best friend.

Will Davis.

His brown hair was in his eyes, covering the chocolate orbs. He sat down, his skinny frame folding easily on the chair. He had to push his glasses from the end of his nose back up to where they were supposed to be. Y/N couldn't help but grin at him, he was so normal, that was why she opted to sit with him at lunch and not the—as Maya bluntly puts it—the popular hoes.

Y/N looked over at her other friends, they were crowded around their table near the window, laughing and joking, she saw her best friend Isabella and her brother Jack, they looked annoyingly happy. She was well aware that Jack liked Isabella but his feelings were not reciprocated, but Jack was a star at school, everyone wanted to be with him, especially Kayla.

Y/N hated Kayla.

"Well, I'm done; I'm going to go prepare for class." She smiled at the group and dumped the contents of her tray into the garbage and left her tray on top, leaving the cafeteria, she straightened out her uniform and remembered something.

She had had practice this morning and all of her bag was still in her locker, crammed into the small space. She had gotten a lift with her brother today so she had to put all of her stuff in his car. Huffing, she spun back around and walked over to her brother's table, feeling the eyes of her other friends on her, as if she was betraying them.

She knew that they thought sooner or later she would stop sitting with them and sit with the 'popular' crowd, but she sat with them because they were superficial, they were fun to be around and she liked them, even Maya on her good days.

"Jacky," she said, arriving at the table and stopping in front of her brother. He seemed to be in an overly animated conversation with Liam, her more or less boyfriend.

"Yes?" He looked up at her, sounding bored.

"I need your keys so I can put my stuff in your car." She held her hand out expectantly but Jack made no move to hand over the keys. She was aware that the group was staring and acutely aware that Kayla was practically drooling over her brother, she didn't see the big deal. She could admit that he was nice looking but hot? No way, then again he was her brother it would be weird if she thought he was a god like the rest of the school.

Jack was nearly eighteen and this was his senior year, along with Liam, Kayla and a few others. He received a lot of female attention and people were always asking if they were really related, Y/N could see why, they looked nothing alike.

Jack had silvery blonde hair and dark eyes, he was tall and had a soccer player's build, where Y/N had Y/C/H and Y/C/E, and had a frame that was slightly toned from nearly four years of cheerleading.

Y/N never understood why she was a cheerleader, she wasn't a girly girl and she didn't dress up a lot, she was more into art, but then cheerleading provided her with confidence and made her feel alive like nothing had before, she loved the feeling of being tossed into the air and soaring like a bird. It was freeing.

"How do I know that you aren't going to joy ride and leave me stranded here?" Y/N scoffed at this.

"Honestly, even if I was going to do that, you would never be stranded, I'm sure there are a million people who would give you a ride." She batted her lashes innocently at him.

He could never deny giving his sister anything, he loved her, he had taken care of her when Father had been unfit, he watched over her, he protected her.

"Fine, here, but give them straight back." He said firmly and she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah yeah." She said turning back and going to her locker. Maybe she should joyride, just to teach him a lesson, then again, that would be one time that Jack didn't protect her.

Y/N walked to her locker, putting in the combination and opening it; grabbing her bag she hauled it over her shoulder and was about to head out to the student parking lot when a hand gently grabbed her waist pulling her back. She raised her eyes to see Liam, smiling down at her.

Liam was her boyfriend, she supposed, they had been together for over a month now and Y/N was very happy. He was very good looking with brown hair that had a messy on purpose look, brown eyes, like melting chocolate, a tall stature and the build of a soccer player mixed in with the grace of a swimmer.

"Hey," he said as he moved, causing her to walk back and feel the cool metal of the locker's behind her.

"Hey," she said smiling. Liam's hand snaked out to play with a strand of her hair. He always played with her hair, Y/N didn't understand the fascination, it was a big frizz ball as far as she was concerned.

"Any plans tonight?" He asked while still fiddling with her hair.

"Sure, with the most wonderful man." Liam looked confused and let her hair fall back. "You should meet him, ever heard of Edgar Allen Poe?" She smirked as he shook his head.

"You are a devil woman." He moved so that Y/N could do what she had originally planned and put her bag in her brother's car.

"Walk with me?" She asked and he nodded, taking her bag and holding her hand.

She knew a lot of girls didn't understand why Liam was dating her; she didn't understand it herself, he was popular, the whole female population of Anchor Academy wanted him and threw dagger looks at her in the halls, but she revelled in it, for once she was envied, for once people wanted to be her.

Y/N deposited her bag in the boot of her brother's truck and turned to the back seat where she knew she had left her pencil box, she slid them into her brown leather backpack and locked the car—after closing the door—and spun to Liam. He had his hands on her hips and was staring down at her with a burning intensity.

"Do you want to do something tonight?" He asked in a shaky voice. They had never been this close before, they hadn't even done more than pecks, she didn't know what was stopping her but she knew she was grateful that he was patient, she wondered how long that would last.

"I can't, I'm sorry, but I have to finish this assignment." The bell rang then and Y/N now understood the meaning of the phrase saved by the bell. "I need to go, but I'll see you tomorrow?" She got on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, waving as she headed to class.

Y/N wasn't exactly lying to Liam, she did need to finish this assignment, but it wasn't due for another two weeks. Y/N knew why she didn't go out a lot on school days, but that was her secret.

#####

Y/N sat at her computer desk, researching for this English paper when her chat window came up.

Hello Y/N

Y/N smiled and typed back. They had been friends for eleven years now, he knew her inside and out as she knew him, except for the fact that they had no idea what the other looked like, she thought and he agreed that it would be better to keep their faces hidden, like real pen pals.

Y/N remembered the day she had been told she had to write to him and the day he walked into her life, never walking out.

Y/N sat at her seat next to her new friend Will. He was funny looking; he had really big glasses and funny hair. They were friends because Y/N saw him reading and she wanted to read too.

"Okay guy, we are doing a fun new assignment called Pen Pals! This means, each of you will select a name from this hat," She held the hat out for show. "And you will write that person a letter and then they will write you one and you will keep replying until the end of the year. Does that sound like fun?" The teacher was overexcited, Y/N didn't see the big deal, she was writing to a stranger. Her mom always told her never to talk to strangers.

The hat was passed around and Y/N dipped her hand in and pulled out a piece of paper, handing the hat to Will. She opened the paper and saw the name of her 'Pen Pal'.

Harry Styles

Under his name was what she thought was an address. She pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil and began to write her first letter.

Dear Harry...

You're distracting me from homework, Y/N replied to Harry. When she had started that assignment she had no idea she was going to make a lifelong friend, a best friend and she had, in Harry, he had been her first crush, even if she hadn't officially met him, Y/N had wanted him to be her first kiss too, but that was impossible in case she was able to get a plane to England and the little savings she had in her piggy bank, Father gave her money but she always used that on the weekends, going to movies or restaurants or clubs.

Really, what are you doing?

She was about to respond when he wrote something else and she giggled.

More importantly, what are you wearing? ;)

Y/N shook her head; Harry was always a cocky smartass.

Edgar Allan Poe

You're wearing Edgar Allan Poe? Lucky guy

Oh haha! I am studying Edgar Allan Poe and wearing nothing

Harry didn't reply, which was uncommon for him, not much rendered him speechless, in the time they had spoken, be it through letter or internet, she had learnt a lot about Harry and his life, what he was like and what he was hiding, she felt as if she was one of the only people who knew the real Harry and somehow that made her feel lucky.

What poem?

He ignored the naked comment. Smooth.

Instead of typing the title, which he would then Google, Y/N wrote the poem to him, perhaps he could shed some light on it for she was having no luck.

Romance, who loves to nod and sing,

With drowsy head and folded wing,

Among the green leaves as they shake

Far down within some shadowy lake,

To me a painted paroquet

Hath been- a most familiar bird-

Taught me my alphabet to say-

To lisp my very earliest word

While in the wild wood I did lie,

A child- with a most knowing eye.

Of late, eternal Condor years

So shake the very Heaven on high

With tumult as they thunder by,

I have no time for idle cares

Through gazing on the unquiet sky.

And when an hour with calmer wings

Its down upon my spirit flings-

That little time with lyre and rhyme

To while away- forbidden things!

My heart would feel to be a crime

Unless it trembled with the strings.

Y/N awaited his response as she read over the lines of the poem herself. The poem was called Romance and Y/N really hoped Harry didn't read something onto the title.

Well Y/N, it seems you have a pickle in your hands here.

Ever the asshole, Harry didn't help her at all. She sighed, deciding he was too distracting for her to actually get work done.

I'm signing off, you really are no help. Talk to you soon.

Y/N logged off before he could respond. For another hour she pondered what the poem could mean and then gave up and decided to concentrate on her art assignment. She was supposed to draw something that meant a lot to her but she couldn't think of anything except for Harry and she couldn't very well draw him, she had no idea what he looked like.

Then an idea no, more like an image, came to fruition within her thoughts and she began sketching, not knowing where this idea had come from, but she was going with it, it was all the help she was going to get.

Y/N awoke the next morning and sauntered into the kitchen, pouring herself some cereal she went to get milk when she saw the envelope sitting there, with her name written on the front in elegant script and written in blue biro. She knew who it was from immediately and sitting at the table, her breakfast forgotten, she opened the letter and started reading.

She was glad she didn't eat, because she probably would have just thrown it all up with the nausea she felt.

Harry was coming to New York, not only that he was coming to her school.

That was bad, he would see her, who she really was, who her friends were, what her friends were like, her brother and he would see what she looked like. Y/N suddenly felt extremely self conscious and opted not to wear her original outfit and instead wear baggy jeans, a tank top, a giant hoodie and ugly sneakers.

She didn't want Harry to see her because she knew, she knew that he would be beautiful and she was not, he would laugh at her and never speak to her again.

Y/N didn't think she could handle losing her friend, her best friend, her soul mate.

Y/N had never changed outfits so many times in her life.

She had gone from baggy, to slutty, to loose fitting, to tight, to exposing, to completely covered, and finally she decided to go for a mix and ended up in something she would normally wear. Looking at herself in the mirror she realised that being friends with Isabella had influenced her style way too much.

And even scarier, she had never put in this much effort to look nice for Liam.

Y/N was wearing a loose grey shirt with a leather belt that emphasised her small waist, a pair of black skinny jeans covered her legs and her feet were enclosed in ballet flats. Her hair was pinned on one side and her makeup was light, she wore no jewellery and she had her bag slung around her shoulders.

Y/N descended the stairs and grabbed a berry yogurt from the fridge for breakfast and waited for her brother.

Jack came down the stairs a few minutes later and nodded at her, picking up his backpack and an apple, grabbing his keys they were about to leave when their father came out from the study.

He was always in the study.

"Where are you going dressed like that?" He asked Y/N, his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. Y/N looked down at her attire, not seeing anything wrong with it.

"What's wrong with it?" She asked cautiously, standing closer to Jack.

When her father drank, he drank until he couldn't see anymore and he always asked or commented on Y/N's looks and she knew why. She looked exactly like her mother. Jack always came to her rescue when he started on a tirade, she was grateful to have such a loving brother.

"It looks like you are trying to impress a man. I want to know who?" Y/N cringed back at the look her father gave her. She hated it when he was like this.

Ever since their mother had abandoned them, Y/N's father had indulged in Alcohol and, as a result, had lost his job. They had nearly lost their home until, one day; their father had snapped out of it and got himself together. He got another job and was earning good money, Jack got a part time job for extra money and Y/N also got a summer job to pay for art classes.

He still drank and when he did, Y/N would rather avoid him.

"No one sir, I was just trying out a new style."

"What's it called? Whore?"

"Father." Jack stepped in, standing between Y/N and their father. "Enough. You're drunk."

"Just like your mother, she abandoned you kids, I stayed and this is how you repay me? By looking like something out of a x-rated movie?"

Y/N bit her lip and kept her tears at bay.

He wasn't her daddy right now. He was the thing that their mother had made.

"Y/N," Jack whispered. "Go to the car." Y/N did and waited for Jack.

When he appeared she was fidgeting with her outfit.

"Y/N, you look beautiful. Don't listen to him."

She smiled as he unlocked the car. She put her stuff on the back seat and sat, buckling her seat belt and fiddling with the music as he took off towards school.

"But out of pure curiosity, who are you trying to impress?"

My pen pal from kindergarten who just moved to this school.

"No one, just trying something new."

#####

Harry rolled his eyes, walking along behind the chick giving him the tour of the school.

Isabella? That was her name he thought. She seemed to like to talk and look at herself and look at Harry. Typical Barbie teenager, he could have her in minutes if he wanted, but he was far too anxious about where he was and who he knew was here. He felt oddly nervous, but he didn't know why. He knew that he was good looking—okay, that was an understatement—he could get any girl he wanted with a snap of his fingers, but it was different now.

He knew everything about Y/N—except for what she looked like, which was a big thing for Harry. He could admit that he was shallow, he always went for the easy girls as opposed to any other girl, but he doubted that Y/N was easy.

The fact that she had a boyfriend said so.

Harry clenched his jaw at that thought, it was ridiculous to get annoyed over one word, but Y/N having a boyfriend was not the way he had pictured their first meeting to go. He expected her to fall into his arms or his bed, depending on the location.

He had to stop thinking of Y/N like that. They were friends, best friends, and had been since she was five and he was six, he loved her like a friend and cared about her. He lived for the days they would talk for hours. He loved being able to open up to her.

He loved having a girl as his friend that cared about him even though she had no idea what he looked like.

"And this is the cafeteria. You can sit with me, you said you played soccer right?" Harry nodded at Isabella's question. "Good, I sit with some soccer players." They walked into the room; it was white and blue with long tables and benches. There was a lineup for the food but Harry wrinkled his nose.

He never ate cafeteria food; he always brought his own lunch.

He had told his Grandmother this and she had packed him a lunch. His stomach growled thinking about it.

"Did you want some food?" She asked.

"I have some with me." He responded, giving her his signature smirk. She smiled back at him and batted her eyelashes as she trotted off to a table in the back with a group of boys and girls. Isabella sat and gestured to a spare seat next to her in which Harry took.

"Everyone," She announced, gesturing to the group as a whole. "This is Harry Styles, he's new. He moved here from England and he too plays soccer."

"Interested in trying out? We need a new player." A boy with light silver-white hair asked.

"Sure," Harry responded nonchalantly, when really the prospect of playing the game he loved so much gave him a kick of adrenaline.

"Excellent. Come to practice this afternoon." He reached over offering his hand. "I'm Jack, captain, goalie." Harry shook his hand, recognising the name.

My older brother, Jack, is starting second grade next year.

Jack starts high school soon.

My brother got into the soccer team.

Jack was made captain!

So, this was Y/N's brother. He studied the boy, trying to imagine his features on a girl. An image rose. Dark eyes, contrasting with a pale complexion, tall and stringy, like a beanstalk, with a bit of athleticism due to cheerleading and long silvery hair.

Harry wasn't entirely put off by the image.

"That's Isabella, as you know." Jack continued, pointing to the girl next to him. "Cherr captain. Laney and Kayla are also cheerleaders. Liam, Jared are also on the team. The others are around somewhere, but we all prefer each other's company."

Harry acknowledged everyone with a nod, noting that Liam was a boy with dark hair and eyes and was also, he suspected, Y/N's boyfriend.

This guy, one of my brothers' friends, asked me out so I won't be able to talk tonight.

Liam, the guy I went on a date with, asked me to be his girlfriend. I said yes.

Harry knew he was much better looking.

Harry looked around the cafeteria, trying to see if he could spot her.

"Ah," Jack said and here comes the most important member of our group.

Harry looked to where Jack was pointing and saw a girl walking towards them, tray in hand. Her eyes met Harry's and everything seemed to go silent. She was beautiful, not a generic beauty, but someone who didn't know how beautiful they were. Hair in a braid at her side, big luminous eyes widened as they looked at Harry. A small frame, with some muscle.

"Who?" Harry asked, not able to tear his eyes from her. His study happened in a split second; no one noticed that they had shared a moment.

A moment he would never forget.

"My sister."

The moment he first saw his Y/N.

#####

"Come on Y/N, you don't want to miss him, he is so hot." Stella, her partner in science, pushed Y/N out of the class.

She was trying to get Y/N to the cafeteria to see the new boy, she had heard about him all day and received an excited message from Isabella saying she was escorting him. She had heard he was hot but she knew something about him that no one else did.

The new boy was Harry Styles, her pen pal for over ten years.

Y/N was nervous as her and Stella approached the cafeteria, Stella scanned the room and her shoulders slumped in disappointment.

"He isn't here yet. Let's line up, by the time we get our food, he should be here."

Y/N waited in line, noting that her brother and boyfriend came through and immediately sat down. They never ate school food. Y/N was envious. She hated the oily, bland food they made. She made a note to go car shopping sooner so that she could leave during lunch and buy something.

Y/N got her tray and on it placed an apple juice, a salad, a chocolate muffin and a small bowl of Mac 'n' Cheese.

Y/N decided to sit at her Brother's table today—well Isabella had decided for her—and as she made her way over, she stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes met with him.

His eyes were bright, emerald green and his hair was shaggy and brunette, falling under his chin and just above his eyes. His skin was sun kissed and he had an athlete's build. He was the most handsome boy Y/N had ever seen. Then it registered.

She had never seen this boy before, he was sitting with her brother, her boyfriend and Isabella and he, too, was staring at her.

She felt a lump build in her throat and she didn't need Stella's input.

"That's him, the new boy."

Y/N gulped and suddenly felt the urge to run and hide.

The new boy.

Her boy.

Her best friend.

Harry Styles, her Harry.

Y/N was able to move from her spot once Stella broke the trance she had been in.

She didn't look at him when she got to the table, taking a seat next to Liam and realising with annoyance that Harry was across from her. She couldn't look at him, then they would all know. They would know she knew Harry, she cared for Harry and she couldn't let that happen.

"Hey baby," Liam said as she settled in her seat. Leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek. Y/N's eyes inadvertently went to Harry as his lips made contact. His eyes blazed and his jaw tightened as Liam kissed her, but Y/N didn't understand why.

"Ow," Liam said as he pulled away, glaring at Jack. "Who just throws bread at someone?"

"That's my sister," Jack said. "Next time, it won't be bread."

"Jack, you are so overprotective. I am not a baby anymore" Y/N said, looking at her brother. It was the first words she had spoken since seeing Harry. She didn't look at him or tried not to anyway.

"Y/N!" Isabella said excitedly, drawing her attention. "This is Harry Styles; new guy from England, your brother is letting him try out for the team!"

Isabella, I know more about him than you, shut up and stop looking at him like that!

Y/N let her gaze go to Harry.

"Really? You must be something special to get that stubborn JACKass to let you try out." She smiled innocently at Jack.

"Oh you have no idea." Harry replied, his voice like heaven.

"We'll see about that." Liam said, slinging his arm around Y/N. "Are you coming to see his tryout babe?"

Y/N looked over at Harry who smirked at her quickly before glancing down at his untouched lunch. He seemed to have packed lunch, Y/N found that cute.

"Wouldn't miss it."

###

Y/N changed into some workout clothes.

"Alright," Isabella said as they stretched on the field. "We are going to practice the cheers for next weeks game, because frankly you suck at it. Let's go!"

Isabella was nothing if not direct.

She looked out at the field and saw Liam; he smiled and waved to her. Jack saw this and whacked him over the head.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at that.

Then she noticed Harry and all laughter died as they looked at one another from across the field. He was shirtless, and boy did he look good, and he made it no secret to check her out. Y/N turned from him before Liam or Jack saw the look Harry was giving her.

She was distracted all through practice, but luckily, she wasn't the worse one here. A lot of the other girls were distracted by Harry too. Y/N tried not to dwell on that.

As the cheerleaders were packing, Y/N noticed Jack and Harry shaking hands and smiling.

He must have made the team

She saw Liam then and he began to walk over to her, she smiled and walked over to him, after having packed up what she was supposed to, and he wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on top of hers.

"So, Harry is a pretty good player isn't he?" Y/N said as she pulled away from Liam, taking his hand and walking to where she would change.

"Yeah, I guess so, hopefully he will be enough to get us out of this slump."

"I'm sure he will be." They had reached the entrance to the girl's locker room and Y/N looked up at Liam, his brown eyes smiling at her.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

Y/N was about to say no, that Jack gave her a lift to school and would take her home but then she thought about how little time she spent with Liam and nodded, hurrying to get changed and coming back out in record time.

"That was fast." He commented, smirking at her as he took her school bag.

"Well, I wanted to spend time with you." Y/N crinkled her nose. The girl's locker room always smelled like perfume, too much perfume and all of different scents. It got quite difficult to breathe in there.

"Cutie."Liam bent down and brushed his lips over Y/N's.

Liam pulled back grinned, Y/N stood and stared up at him, unable to form words.

The kiss was small, short and...Nice.

"Why Miss Y/L/N I do believe my kissing has stunned you into silence. I am quite good."

Y/N shook her head and shoved his arm playfully, about to say something smartass back to him when something caught her eyes. A flash, retreating into the boys' locker room.

Harry?

She turned back to Liam and they continued walking, they were nearly at his car when she remembered something. Slapping a hand to her forehead. Liam looked down at her in concern.

"Shoot, I forgot my homework in my locker. I'll be right back." She began to run towards the school.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"I'll meet you at the car in a couple of minutes." She called back to him, dashing into the doors and running to her locker.

She put in the combination and got the book she needed, shutting her locker door she turned to go and jumped, seeing something she hadn't noticed before.

"Well, alone at last."

Y/N looked up at the person before her, feeling her insides melt.

"Harry," She breathed, unable to say anything but his name.

"Well Y/N, we meet at last."

Y/N looked up at Harry. She wasn't ready for this, no matter how many times she told herself she was, she wasn't and she realised she never would be ready to meet Harry. He was someone that she could turn to when she needed a shoulder to cry on. He was someone she could tell everything to—she had told everything to him and he was her best friend, someone who knew her better than anyone and now that he was here, she regretted telling him all those things. She regretted letting Harry in.

"I should go," she mumbled and started to walk away. Harry grabbed her arm and she spun, nearly head butting his chest. For a moment she stood frozen and, annoyingly, a song started playing through her head, one that she should not be thinking about when she had a boyfriend.

At last, my love has come along, my lonely days are over.

"Y/N" Harry whispered and she saw how close their faces were, his lips mere centimetres from hers. If she leaned forward, just a little, they would kiss and she had thought about kissing Harry plenty. Harry seemed to be thinking the same thing. His eyes travelled down to her lips and then back to her eyes. He was about to say something. Y/N wanted to hear it, she wanted to hear what he had to say to her, but the trance they were in was broken when Harry smirked down at her and spoke.

"I always imagined our meeting to go a little...differently."

Y/N didn't like his tone and managed to step out of his grip on her arm.

"You've imagined our meeting?" She asked, her voice coming out a little breathlessly.

"All the time, Y/N," she tried not to think of how her nickname—the name only he called her—sounded like a caress. "I mean, we've known each other for years and we have never met. I've always wondered what it would be like." He grinned wickedly at her and Y/N felt herself respond with a small, teasing, smile. One Isabella had taught her.

Damn her flirting classes to the pits of hell!

"Well, it's great to, you know, finally meet you. We should definitely hang out some—" Harry placed a hand over her mouth and moved his eyes in the direction of an empty room. Y/N felt her brow furrowed in confusion and then she registered the sound of footsteps. She didn't have time to respond before Harry was walking towards the room, with her in tow, locking the door and pulling the blind down.

"Harry," She hissed. "What are you—?"

"Y/N?"

The voice came from the hallway and Y/N widened her eyes as she recognised it. Harry put a finger to his lips in the international sign for silence.

"Y/N, baby?"

Liam was walking past the door and Y/N had to resist the urge to yell out his name, Harry saw this and leaned into her, whispering in her ear. His breath caused her to shiver.

"Y/N, I just want to talk to you alone."

"Harry, he's my ride home and my boyfriend," she said defensively.

"Text him and tell him you need to do something really quickly and you'll be out soon."

Y/N looked up at Harry, planning on defying him and then she thought about it. She would never be alone with Harry again and she had wanted to meet him—talk to him in person—for years. Perhaps she should listen.

She took her phone out and sent a quick text to Liam.

Hey babe. Running late, meet you out the front in a few? Sorry for taking so long xox

Harry gave her an approving look as they heard Liam's phone go off and he headed back down the hallway, leaving the school.

"Okay, you have five minutes, what?" She asked Harry.

The Harry in her head looked like the Harry before her except for the attitude. Her Harry was sweet, funny and romantic. Harry, though funny, didn't seem to have anything sweet in him.

"Cute," Harry said and she looked up seeing one corner of his mouth was turned up in a smile.

"What is?" She asked.

"You," he grinned and Y/N grinned back. Then her smiled faded as he kept looking her up and down. Y/N squirmed uncomfortably under his scrutiny. He was looking at her like...like a piece of meat, ogling her. This was not how she imagined Harry would look at her; she imagined kindness to shine from his eyes and a feeling of safety to wrap around her.

Right now, all she felt was...uncomfortable.

"Look Harry," Y/N said, raising her eyes to his. "I really need to go," she said firmly, trying to get him to shake off the look of a stranger checking out the best piece of ass. He didn't.

"Oh Y/N, I have been waiting to meet you for over ten years and you're just going to walk away from me?" He shook his head. "I thought we were friends, best friends."

"We were—are—but Harry, I really need to go. I'll—I'll talk to you later, tonight, okay?" He gave her a curious look.

"No girl," he said slowly, "has ever walked away from me. It is unfamiliar and quite disconcerting. I don't like it very much but it seems to make you far more endearing. I enjoy a good chase, Y/N," he raised his eyebrows suggestively. "But be warned, I am quite good at catching what I want."

Y/N looked at him with disgust and shoved past him.

So this was who her best friend really was, an asshat that liked to use girls. Well, she wasn't going to be one of them.

"If I had known this is what you were really like," she said, hand on the door knob, turning to face him, "I never would have kept writing to you."

Harry drummed his fingers in time with the music on the steering wheel of his car.

He was driving to a local corner store, a mini mart of sorts, to get some things for his grandmother. He didn't mind helping her. She was letting him live with her, rent free and even gave him money for doing her favours. Harry didn't want to take it, but she was pushy and would put it in his wallet while he was asleep.

He smiled at the thought.

"I never would have kept writing to you."

His smile fell as that unpleasant thought worked its way into his mind and he slammed his hand, hard, on the steering wheel, berating himself. He couldn't believe how bad his meeting with Y/N went. He was such an ass. He knew he was, he could proudly admit it and also admit to the fact that there was no hidden reason behind his being an ass, no woman who scorned him, no abusive relationship with his parents and no reason at all.

Except that he was an ass and he enjoyed being an ass.

Mostly.

His arrogance only got him so far in life. Sometimes he would have to reel it in and suck up his pride and stop being an ass. Perhaps he should have done that with Y/N.

She had always been there for him, since he was six years old and first received her letter. When he found out she was a girl he was instantly annoyed, girls had cooties, but he wrote back anyway. That stupid egg headed boyfriend of hers had called her baby and Harry had to suppress a laugh at that, he had had so many babies in his short life and knew that more would come. But there is only one Y/N

It had been a week since Y/N had spoken to him and if she did look at him, she glared. It bothered Harry, more than he was willing to admit, that this girl he had known for so long—and had finally met—may hate him. He had no one but himself to blame, it was easy to act differently when typing on a computer or writing a letter.

Harry only acted that way with family and very close friends. Never had he acted the way he had with Y/N with any other girl. He had never given them special nicknames or blown off parties to 'hang out'. He never stayed up all night talking or anxiously awaiting a reply.

He had never wanted someone like he wanted Y/N.

Not in a physical way, although she was remarkably good looking. He wanted Y/N on an emotional level too. He wanted to kiss her if he wanted and do things to her he had done before with other girls, but he also wanted to be able to talk to her, to tell her how he felt and have her listen and in turn, listen to her.

Was this love he was feeling? Had he fallen in love with the girl who never wrote in cursive and never stuck to one pen colour?

Harry thought about it and a startling revelation came to him.

He was most definitely in love with Y/N.

There was no other way to explain his feelings and even—dear god!—the silly grin that was now on his face as he thought about it. He pulled up to a red light and groaned, hitting the steering wheel.

I'm in love with my best friend and treated her like crap.

God he was stupid.

Y/N had been a constant in his life. He had always been able to turn to her for comfort and she had turned to him. He knew more about her than anyone probably did. He knew that when her mother left, Y/N had cut one line along her wrist and then looked at herself in disgust for doing it because her mother didn't deserve her blood. He knew that she hadn't spoken to her mother—Val—since she walked out, and he knew what her father would call her when he was drunk.

He knew her favourite colours, movies, T.V. shows, books and what she wanted to do. He knew her fears and her dreams. He knew that she loved carrots and detested broccoli. He knew that she would only ever dot her I's with hearts if hell froze over, and she liked to draw smiley faces on the toes of her converse.

He smiled thinking about it all and then he saw her in his memory, the way she had looked when he had first laid eyes on her and his heart sped up.

I am in love, aren't I?

He didn't understand how he was in love. He always thought he would fall in love when he was older. He knew Y/N, inside and out and he realised that he had been falling in love with her, slowly, since that first letter and had been in love with her long before he saw her.

Harry jolted with surprise at that, as the light turned green and he continued to drive, he was shallow. He knew it. He only ever paid attention to a girl if she was good looking and flaunted it; tight tops, pants, short skirts, the lot. If you didn't have any of that, he wasn't interested.

With Y/N it was different, he had never seen her before and yet he always wanted to spend his time with her. Re-reading her letters, seeing if she was online, anything really. He made excuses to stay in and talk to her. He would rush home if he knew he would receive a letter from her and butterflies would go crazy in his stomach as he saw the envelope.

She always wrote on nice stationery and sprayed the letter with perfume.

He loved going on her words, tracing them with his fingers.

God, Harry thought as he pulled into the car park for the store and got out, locking his silver Audi and moving to the entrance of the store.

He froze for a moment, the last thought in his mind, whirring around as he looked at the one person behind the counter and his heart soared. They didn't see him and he ducked into an aisle as he calmed his heart and that thought that was still nagging at him.

God, I'm in love with Y/N.

#####

"Isabella, I only have a short break, what do you want?"

Y/N held the phone against her ear and shoulder as she listened to Isabella babble about the upcoming school dance. She rolled her eyes, her school had too many dances. This one was a welcoming back dance, although it wasn't scheduled for another month or so, but Isabella always had to start preparing early.

"I'm thinking blue, maybe. I think I look good in blue and gold for you. Maybe not blue, that would clash with the gold. I know, red! I'll wear red and gold and you can wear gold and red!" She chirped excitedly.

"What's the difference?" Y/N asked, opening her chocolate bar.

"Red is my feature colour, so it will be the colour of my dress and nails and lip stick and I will have gold shoes and accessories. Gold will be your feature colour and red you sub colour. Duh Y/N, have I taught you nothing?"

She rolled her eyes, thankful that Izzy couldn't see her.

"Alright, but red and gold remind me of curtains."

"Curtains?"

"Yeah, like older mansions always had red curtains and gold ropes and poles," she shrugged. "Reminds me of curtains, plus, red doesn't go with skin tone.”

"So what colour would you suggest for yourself?"

"Black."

There was a pause and then Isabella yelled into the phone.

"Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N! You are not going to another dance in a black dress! For the love of God! Wear some colour!"

"But black is—"

"Black is a colour you wear once in a while. Not. At. Every. Social. Function," Isabella ground out and Y/N winced. "That's it! I managed to get you to dress like a girl everyday now I have to get you to dress in colours when we go out. I am scheduling a shopping trip...Two weeks before the dance. For now, we will browse online."

"Isabella—"

"What are you wearing right now?"

"A skirt and top."

"Elaborate, Y/N. Shape, colour, design?"

She sighed but continued, knowing Isabella wouldn't stop until she had an answer.

"A green skirt that is longer at the back and zips up the front and a white tank top tucked into the waist band of the skirt. My shoes are white enclosed with a wedge heel design and I am wearing gold bracelets and a silver necklace with a heart on it."

"Good girl, see? If it weren't for me, you'd be dressed like Will." Y/N didn't try to deny it.

"Isabella, I really think—"

"No excuses. It's written. It's done. Get your fabulously dressed butt back to work and call me later."

Isabella hung up and Y/N stared at the phone for a moment before sighing and putting it back in her bra—girl's gotta do what a girl's got to do—and headed back out to the register, where Mr. Stark had been managing the register.

Mr. Stark owned the small convenience store that Y/N worked at and had been good friends with her father—still was apparently, and she got the job with no problems. The pay was good and the hours flexible.

Smiling at the old man, she took her seat behind the register and waited, flipping through a magazine as she did. She heard the bell above the door chime but didn't look up, until she felt a tingle go through her and when she looked, no one was there. She frowned and then shrugged. They probably went down an aisle.

Returning to her magazine, Y/N thought through Isabella's words.

Did she need to wear more colours? Did Isabella have a point in helping her change her wardrobe from drabby to, as she says, fabby?

Looking down at herself, her style had definitely changed and Y/N liked it, maybe she should stop wearing black dresses to every dance.

Y/N saw in her peripheral a customer approach and stowed her magazine away, scanner in hand. Looking up she saw, to her dismay, who it was that was placing the items down. Locking her jaw, she decided not to acknowledge him and started scanning and placing in the paper bags that Mr. Stark used, insisting it was better than plastic. When she finished scanning, she was annoyed to find that she had to acknowledge his presence.

"Will that be all?" She asked, not quite meeting Harry's eyes. The green seemed to blaze into her.

"I think so, Y/N." The name was like a caress and Y/N had to suppress a shiver of delight. "Actually," Harry amended and Y/N looked up from typing in the total. "One more thing, when do you get off?"

"Do you use that line on every girl?" She asked, typing in the total as Harry fished bills from his wallet and handed them to her.

"Only girls I like." Y/N didn't pause in counting his change, but his words caused a thrill to go through her. "So, when do you get off?"

"Why?" She asked, handing him back his change.

"Because I want to talk, don't friends usually talk?"

"Friends yes, I wasn't aware we were friends Harry," she responded, still refusing to meet his gaze.

"Y/N," He sighed. "What I said, it was completely out of line. I—I'm sorry. I was so nervous meeting you. I mean, you imagine something for so long you want it to go perfectly and then you lose all sense and start blabbering." He ran a hand through his hair and Y/N finally met his gaze.

She could see that he was sorry, in the depths of green there was regret.

"I get off at 4," she said, which was an hour away.

"Would you mind—would you mind if I took you home?"

Y/N looked up at him and saw that he was nervous. Harry had always seemed so confident in his letters and typing that she hadn't thought he could get nervous and with his looks, she thought there was no need. Although what he had said to her still hurt, she had known Harry was a player, he had told her as much, but she had never thought—never imagined—that he would treat her like one of those countless other girls, and that hurt more than words could describe.

Her decision was made as she quickly mulled that over and she told him her answer.

83 notes · View notes

chocosvt · 4 years

Text

⚬ pairing: junhui x reader ⚬ word count: 8125 ⚬ warnings: none! ⚬ genres: secret relationship, some slice of life uni moments, FLUFF, very light angst, spice, roommates!wonhui.

✧✎ synopsis: you’re friends with junhui - but also, not really. it’s friends and a little bit more than that. it’s difficult keeping your relationship a secret, especially when you’ve never loved someone the way you love him.

✧✎ a/n: NOBODY MOVE! I WROTE A JUN BDAY FIC ;_; this is really just me projecting all my years of love onto a word doc. enjoy!!

It was midnight, and the apartment was dark, unmoving. No one had bothered to clean the blue cereal bowl left in the sink and there remained bread crumbs on the countertop from lunch. As you flicked through the strange glimpses of late-night television, yawning in an outrageous width, there was a hunger pang, accompanied by an immediate craving for some sort of sweet candy.

So, you did what seemed best: fit into your sneakers and a windbreaker and push open the door to Jun’s bedroom while he was curled up on his side watching his drama. Wonwoo would usually be occupying the adjacent bed, though he had stayed over at Joshua’s dorm to study for his next history summative. Yet he’d left his beat-up, decaying textbook on his pillow.

“Put on your slippers or something, we’re going to the convenience store.”

Jun didn’t say anything, rather he continued holding out his phone, the bedsheets pulled taunt to his nose. Looking at Jun’s desk that sat next to the door, you picked up the rubber band ball he’d been adding to since his twelfth-grade year and threw it at his shoulder.

“Ow!” He squeaked dramatically. His head then poked over his shoulder as he attempted to see where the ball rolled off to.

“Put on your slippers,” you reiterated, “I want strawberry tangs.”

Without much effort, Jun quickly gave up looking for the elastic ball and returned to watching his drama, establishing his comfort while somehow still persisting to ignore you. He was very much so a homebody, and if it weren’t for you guiding him out the apartment like a grandchild taking their elderly for an afternoon walk, then he might’ve never left his bedroom apart from his class schedule. Yet, you knew exactly how to persuade him, weaken his heart that was already soft and golden.

An immediate whine rumbled in his throat when you jumped on the bed, pulling at him until he finally rolled onto his back, at last pressing pause on his phone. You tossed a thigh over each side of his silhouette and gripped the boy’s wide shoulders, gazing unflinchingly past his black fringe and into those big, glistening eyes.

“Come with me to the store,” you weren’t sure if you were offering or demanding, “please?”

“I-Isn’t it a little late for that?” Jun stumbled through his laughter. “Why do you need me?”

It was a surface-level question really, but nonetheless, your heart still skipped a beat. In only a second or more the silence was bearing down too heavily and it felt like your heart was a book with all its pages out. Jun’s eyes were twinkling as he blinked up at you.

“Walking around alone at night? Hello? Do you have no concern for me?” Came your joking counter.

He tossed his head back, the black fringe bouncing from his lashes. His capitulating yelp of, “fine, fine, I’ll come” was satisfactory enough for you to remove yourself from the boy’s tiny waist, where you stepped on the floor and nearly sprained your ankle due to that dumb, elastic ball. At least you found it. While you returned the toy to his desk, Jun quickly threw a worn jean jacket over his black long sleeve and didn’t bother bending down to fix his sneakers, his heels jutting out the back.

At the convenience store, the only shoppers were you, Junhui, and this lady wearing a huge pair of sunglasses, though you figured she was far from the strangest of the midnight stragglers.

It was rather quiet, even with the fluorescent lights buzzing and the battery-powered fan keeping the cashier cool at the register. You grabbed the first package of strawberry tangs while Jun sorted through the other flavours very meticulously.

“What about blue raspberry?” He said. “You don’t want that?”

“I don’t know, I just really have a craving for strawberry.”

Jun detached a bright green package from the rack. “Sour apple? What about that?”

“Not tasty at all. Pass.”

He grabbed another package and quirked his eyebrow. “Sweet cherry? Come on. That sounds good.”

You lightly hit his arm with the strawberry candy, your laughter echoing over the shelves, “I just want strawberry! If you think the sweet cherry sounds good then you buy it!”

But Jun just shook the black fringe from his playful gaze, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Tangy zangys are the bottom tier of gummy candy. No way.”

“So shut up then.” The words were harsh, yet your smile was no more menacing than a butterfly.

Since it would be impossible for Jun to leave the store without stocking his snack collection, you shopped for longer than expected, filling a basket with spicy chips and hard candies and a few chocolate bars. Heading home down the nighttime street, beneath the moonlight, the infinite expanse of a blackness that felt like a cocoon, you had already ripped open your strawberry tangs while Jun tore the corner off a tiny pouch of bubblegum poprocks.

They crackled loudly on his tongue, in which he made sure to hover in close proximity to your ear, ensuring you could detect every small fizzle. Each time it warranted you to shove him away, muttering a cheap laugh about how it wasn’t required that he lean in so generously, though you couldn’t evade that one nervous thought ticking at the back of your head: you wanted to kiss him, wrap your palm around Jun’s neck and taste the electric bubblegum from his heart-shaped mouth.

“Aren’t you glad you came with me?” You asked, suckling the sugar off a red candy strip.

Jun swallowed his poprocks. “I guess you can word it like that.”

Standing at the living room fish tank, you opened the tab to the flake box and shook the food into the water, your pink guppy who you had so fittingly named, Princess Pebble, swimming toward the surface in order to nip at the flakes. Wonwoo observed you from his seat at the kitchen table, dragging his spoon through the remainder of his cereal, scooping out the last soggy pieces.

��I feel good about it,” Wonwoo hummed, referring to the history test he wrote yesterday, “I think I might’ve left out some information on the essay question.”

You closed the fish flakes and returned to the table, where you left your cup of tea.

“Eh, who cares,” you mumbled behind the rim, “you’re gonna get like a ninety-five anyways.”

The boy shrugged, pressing a fingertip to his glasses, moving them higher up his nose. He had always been diligent with his studying, though he often left the apartment to write notes at the library or a classmate’s dorm. It was difficult to accomplish much when Junhui would distract him, and rather than reading his textbook, Wonwoo would always end up playing computer games with the latter.

“Did you hear Jun come home last night?” You asked, gulping the rest of your tea.

Wonwoo set his bowl into the sink and filled it with water, smiling. It irked you somehow. You were only curious about whether or not he heard Jun return from his dance practice.

Joining him at the sink to clean your mug, you bumped his elbow. “What’s so cute over here?”

“Nothing,” he hummed dismissively, “I heard him crawl into bed, that’s pretty much it.”

“And that’s funny or something?”

“You ask about him quite frequently.” Wonwoo turned to you with a suspecting glance, one that made you subtly desire to dump a cup of water over his head. “You know that, right?”

The morning air was cool, yet your face felt immensely heated, almost prickling.

“I ask because we’re fri—”

“Friends. Yeah, yeah.” Wonwoo huffed, the omniscient smile creeping back toward his mouth, to which you could do nothing apart from gawk at your roommate despite his reiteration of a musing that wasn’t at all unfamiliar. “I’ve always loved you for your innate sense of comedy. It’s priceless.”

It’s what everyone assumed anyways. You and Jun fought tooth and nail to articulate your friendship, to paint with the colours that would lead everyone to believe it was true. Most often your explanations worked, yet there remained some who were particularly stubborn. Wonwoo was an evident case. But he was too close, too eagle-eyed, and he saw that you and Jun behaved in a manner completely beyond friendship. Despite the likewise feelings, something unbeknownst kept you apart.

“I know exactly what that means, idiot!” Echoed your shout as Wonwoo disappeared down the corridor, hoping to take refuge in his bedroom.

“I’m glad!” The depth of his voice reverberated into the kitchen, and you heard his door quickly shut.

No less than a few seconds later did Junhui reveal himself from around the corner, clean and freshened up after a steamy shower, one he desperately needed upon immediately passing out, sweat-soaked and exhausted in his bed the night before. Soonyoung definitely hadn’t taught their lesson with any degree of ease. Pretending you weren’t just quipping at Wonwoo, you smiled.

“Were you two fighting?” Jun asked, pulling out a frying pan from the cupboard. He usually whipped together an omelette for breakfast.

“No, not at all. We never fight, remember?”

Jun scoffed while opening the fridge, removing an egg carton and a plastic wrapping filled with vegetables. Still hungry, you started peeling open a tangerine from the fruit basket and stood next to him as he organized the produce onto a cutting board. Ever so faintly, you could smell the crisp scent to his aftershave. It was peculiar how a bit of foam could render your chest that cottony.

“In fact, when’s the last time you even remember an argument Wonwoo and I had?” You prodded.

“Two days ago,” Jun laughed, “when Wonwoo wanted to watch that exploration documentary on King Tut, but you changed the channel so you could finish the last season of Home Makeover.”

Pressing his rose lips together, Junhui casted you an innocent glance. “So there’s that.”

Separating a small slice of tangerine, you gently pushed the clove into the boy’s mouth. He smiled softly as he began to chew. With the gentle tang of citrus in the air, you set a hand on Jun’s shoulder and buried your face against his warm neck, whispering, “yeah, and it was definitely worth it.”

Quite frankly, neither you, Jun, Wonwoo, or Joshua were fairing optimally at the library. While Wonwoo sat on the opposite side of the table helping Joshua organize his economics presentation, you were neglecting your biology packet, instead choosing to sketch a tiny Princess Pebble in the paper’s upper corner. Jun had been tasked with reviewing his latest theatre script, yet he hadn’t even flicked through it. He was intrigued by one of the numerous mangas he’d saved to his phone.

“Take the last point off here,” Wonwoo said, peering over Joshua’s shoulder at his laptop, “there’s too much text, and this isn’t a major branch of your topic anyways.”

Joshua sighed as he made a few clicks on his keyboard. “Dude, I don’t think I can edit another word. This class is so boring.”

“Mr. Canning is just a boring professor,” Wonwoo sympathized, “it would be best if it were someone who weren’t so… dry. I guess is the right word.”

Slumping back in his chair, Joshua huffed, “he’s like a human chalk stick.”

Desperate to discuss something that wasn’t related to his lacklustre econ class, Joshua spared a glance at Jun’s unopened script. “Shouldn’t you be learning that?” He asked.

Jun didn’t look away from the phone in his lap. “I can’t do it here.”

“That means he’s going to open it for the first time at one in the morning, the day of his performance.” You chuckled, outlining the sketch of your guppy using Wonwoo’s pink gel pen.

Harshly, Jun’s hand smacked your knee under the table and you couldn’t help but laugh, garnering an over-the-shoulder glare from a student in the corner who’d been trying to focus on their colossal textbook. Wonwoo smiled at them apologetically while Joshua feigned as though he were typing something on his laptop. However, Jun’s hand didn’t leave your knee, and your laughter became an immediate drought, to which the sole thing you could feel was his palm creeping higher up your leg.

Attempting to be subtle, you turned your head slightly and looked at the boy with a bit of a warning expression, though Jun simply continued to scroll through his manga.

“I’m going to check the world history section,” Wonwoo announced, rising from the table, “anyone want to come with?”

Joshua pushed out his chair. “I’ll come just so I don’t have to stare at this shitty powerpoint.”

As soon as the boys walked beyond earshot, you pinched the edge of Jun’s ear. He finally tossed his phone onto the table, though he didn’t exactly appear compassionate, rather he was smirking, for he knew if you truly didn’t want his hand touching your leg then you would have bumped it away.

“You can’t do that.” Nonetheless, there surmounted a need to establish some insignificant boundary, one that neither of you were going to follow through. “Not when they’re so close.”

“But they didn’t see.” Jun replied, squeezing your inner thigh. “It shouldn’t matter.”

“It does. What if Joshua saw?” At that point, Wonwoo was fairly conditioned to your lingering fingertips, grazes and stares. He usually pretended not to notice them. However, Joshua was a risk.

Jun shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t you worry too much? I always touch your leg.”

That was the problem. People trying to convince other people that their relationship was wholly platonic didn’t linger in such an intimate way. They didn’t creep fingertips up the other’s inner thigh beneath a tablecloth, or possess a gaze that traced the other’s lips like a delectable piece of candy when they spoke. There shouldn’t be any whispers pressed quickly against the other’s ear when no one else was looking, or the dire urge to climb into the other’s lap when their legs were wide open.

Both of you were afraid. Neither of you wanted to break the question that would thrust your relationship into the light. You kept waiting for the right time, but it always seemed one step ahead.

The movie theatre was nearly empty as the longwinded credit screen continued rolling, the last few congregations throwing their soda cups and empty packages into the garbage on their way out. Still, the floor of practically every row had been scattered with butter popcorn or melted m&m’s, shiny chocolate wrappers left crinkled in the recliners like the employees were supposed to take them home as gifts. Wonwoo put his hands on the back of his head, examining the disastrous rows.

You sensed he was feeling rather lucky about not being scheduled that night. Jun forced himself from the recliner and picked up his cup of fruit punch, jammed with way too many ice cubes.

If no one else was going to comment, you might as well. “That wasn’t the worst.”

“Agreed.” Wonwoo said, pushing up his glasses. “The murderer’s ploy was difficult to follow at times. I started getting confused when he left his car in the woods.”

“What?” Jun gawked. “That’s when you got confused? I didn’t even know what was happening after the first half hour.” His eyes gleamed in astonishment.

“Same.” You admitted. “I guess you’ll have to explain in the car.”

Reaching into the cupholder, you pulled out the package of strawberry tangs with nothing but a tiny amount of the powder-like sugar left inside.

“Thank you for picking up your trash,” Wonwoo sighed, taking the lead down the stairway while the credit music still played, “I’d hate to be working tonight.”

The wide corridor was completely vacant by the time you exited the theatre. Ever so slightly you could hear the galactic sound effects from the arcade machines. That buttery scent of popcorn seemed to waft no matter where you stood in the cinema. Wonwoo announced that he was going to check the concession counter to see who was on cash, but assured he would meet you and Jun at the back exit. Jun hurriedly downed his fruit punch in a large gulp before you emerged into the night.

You were confined to the small overhang by the doorway, for a hard rain was pelting against the concrete and turned the night air considerably cooler. Not one of you had checked the forecast beforehand, and you would undoubtedly get drenched straight through to the flesh in your thin long-sleeve.

“How are we going to make it to the car?” You groaned.

Pulling up his hood, Jun only laughed. “Now is a good time to be able to teleport.” He then stuck out his hand for a moment, the raindrops hitting his palm.

“Does it feel like bullets?”

“No. It feels kind of nice actually.” He remarked.

Curious, you rolled up your sleeve and extended your arm into the downpour. Jun was right, it felt satisfactory as each of the brisk droplets splashed your skin. However, you prematurely discovered the rain wasn’t so appealing when Jun suddenly shoved you from beneath the overhang.

“Hey— what the hell?!” You squealed upon the immediate repercussions, the cold water already leaking through your top while Junhui slapped his thigh, cackling.

Wanting to erase that luminous grin of his, you attempted wrestling the lanky boy into the weather, but no more than a few harmless drops skimmed his shoulder. Yet, with another brute shove, Jun stumbled, feeling the silver needles of rain pour down from the night sky and swirl at his dampening sneakers. He was laughing as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you hard against his chest before you were even cognisant that an immense wetness was soaking through your every article.

You wished it had been indignance drumming in your heart rather than affection, because it was taking every single fibre of your being not to kiss him. As the droplets beaded down his skin, he was like a springtime flower caught in the morning dew, and when he carded back the wet, black hairs plastered to his forehead, you thought it was possible to fall into him and never feel that concrete scrape your knees. Gently, his hand touched the small of your wet back, his breaths deepening.

He urged you in tighter as his tongue ran along his bottom lip, tasting the rain.

You were shivering, frigid, though your blood was far too warm to let yourself take note. Instead, you moved your head closer, closer, Jun’s cold palm cupping your cheek and your eyes fluttering shut and your soft mouths just brushing together— until Wonwoo appeared from inside.

Instantly, you two pushed away from each other. With his eyes widening, Wonwoo stuttered.

“I-I’m… I’m going to pretend as best I can that something weird didn’t almost happen.” He stated, swallowing thickly. “Just… Why did you two have to get soaked? You’re sitting in my car, y’know!”

At last, you felt that icy shiver trickle down your spine.

“S-Sorry.” You hummed, teeth chattering.

“I guess it’s fine,” Wonwoo sighed, “I have some towels under the passenger’s seat.”

Not long after returning to the apartment, Wonwoo gathered his laptop and slipped into his pyjamas. He proceeded to flop onto the couch to edit his research paper, though it didn’t take much for his eyelids to start weighing down, his dense paragraphs blurring together on the screen. More often than not you would take advantage of Wonwoo’s midnight crashes in the living room.

After exchanging your damp, terribly cold clothes for a warm t-shirt and sweatpants, you found yourself cozied beneath Jun’s comforter for the umpteenth night. The boy’s head rested against the crook of your neck, where his slow breaths were cool to your skin, though they occasionally became heavier when your fingertips stroked at his smooth hair. He was much like a kitten who loved a thorough scratch behind the ears. You swore that he purred whenever you rubbed the right spot.

Holding out his phone, he’d been finishing an episode of his drama before bed. You tucked some of the black locks behind his ear, noting how much it’d grown over the months. Then your gaze wandered over every detail that shaped his face, as though he were a textured oil painting.

His eyes were always glimmering, seemingly innocent and curious, yet you knew just how much that earthly shade could darken when he fell into his professions. When Jun acted on stage, his gaze lost its untainted nature. It moulded into the role of the sinister characters he preferred playing. When he danced in blazing lights, those eyes were sharp enough to consume, to cut, almost like a razorblade.

But then you studied his lips, his heart-shaped cupid’s bow, the small constellation of moles that dotted his skin like kisses from past soulmates. You thought back to the mist and the rain, his hand resting against the small of your back, how close you were to tasting the flavourful, fruity mix of his drink. In fact, you wondered why you didn’t just kiss Junhui whenever you wanted. What was stopping you, in that moment, from turning his head toward you so that your lips could press to his?

Suddenly, the boy laughed at his phone screen, to which you felt the brassy reverberation erupt in his chest, his eyes glinting and his mouth stretched into a box-like smile. You pulled a few strands of hair from his forehead as he seemed to be glowing, his cheeks rosy.

Jun mewled in surprise when your fingers threaded rather tight through his black locks, feeling you tilt his head up until his gaze was burning into yours.

You didn’t hesitate. Leaning forward, you kissed him sweet and slow.

Jun’s eyes fluttered as the pressure warmed his mouth, a small whine getting caught in his throat upon the gentle sting of your hand tugging at his tresses, his scalp tingling. His phone sunk into the bedsheets, and instead he was gripping your t-shirt, moving his head with yours as the kiss deepened. He tasted like mint, and his small whines were silky.

How on earth could you have ever shied from kissing him when it felt so relieving? Nothing else held any significance to you apart from making his pretty lips shine.

However, you needed to catch your breath. Releasing the firm grasp on his hair, you detached your mouth from his, your chest rising and falling in great lengths. The boy’s eyes couldn’t be more glazed, his lips shimmering, flushed garnet and slightly swollen. Neither of you uttered a word. The blankets fell from Jun’s shoulders as he straddled your waist eagerly. Again, his mouth slotted with yours, and your hands slid up his caramel thighs, imprinting his flesh with the curve of your fingernails.

If you kept quiet enough, then perhaps Wonwoo would remain asleep until morning.

Standing amongst the crowd in the cramped performance hall, it was inevitable that you would get bumped around like a tiny, flying pinball. After rutting into Wonwoo’s shoulder for the third time, he seemed dauntingly close to losing his indolence and snapping, though he realized it wasn’t your fault that others were pushing toward the front of the stage and bit his tongue.

It became tradition for Soonyoung and his students to rent the downtown performance hall and host a fundraiser. The event typically lasted a few hours, with a few short interludes where the dancers would retreat backstage to catch their breath. Being Jun’s roommate, you and Wonwoo were always granted access into the small dressing room, and though you never admitted it, you loved experiencing that small flash of pride whenever the moonstruck audience watched you slip away.

The next interlude was closing in. Despite the different dancers on stage, you really, truthfully, only watched Jun. Each time he captured the centre position, you couldn’t help but cup your hands around your mouth, being one of the first to cheer overtop the deafening music as he moved so fluidly, with poise. He was a completely different person when he performed. Somehow, his tender-hearted nature would peel back and he’d emerge a domineering beacon.

As soon as the stage ended, an uproar rippled from the audience and resonated deep in your ears, to which you couldn’t help but slightly bury your head against Wonwoo’s shoulder to muffle the cacophony. Nonetheless, you were clapping, smiling, staring fondly as Jun grabbed his collar and fluffed it out, welcoming a slight gust of humid air. His skin was dewy with sweat, and yet he glowed beautifully, even when he was breathing so heavily through his nose.

Soonyoung was speaking into his microphone, but you missed half his speech, and before you knew it you were being dragged by Wonwoo through the crowd toward the backstage entrance. The room was at least big enough to accommodate the dancers. Jun was in the corner, gulping down his water.

“Only three more songs,” Wonwoo smiled, “you guys really stepped the level up this year.”

It took a moment before Jun replied, the column of his neck glittering as he completely crushed the plastic bottle in his hands.

“Yeah,” he burst out, “I’m freaking dying.”

“It’s for a good cause at least.” Wonwoo reasoned, ignoring how you stepped on his foot.

After Jun rolled his eyes, he was staring at you.

The air grew much too thick, and you had to clear your throat. “S-Seriously, you’ve improved so much. I can’t believe it.”

“Thanks,” Jun replied, scratching his nape, “it’s nothing special, really.”

“Uh? Nothing special?” Wonwoo quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t Soonyoung say you’re one of the best in the class?”

When Jun innocently flitted his gaze toward a distant spot and pressed his lips together, Wonwoo merely huffed, announcing he was going to the lobby for a drink of water. You watched him wind between the busy dancers, either wiping down their sweat or fanning themselves, until he disappeared out the door. When you faced Jun again, you looped your fingers through the satin collar of his stage outfit and kissed him quickly, knowing everyone was too occupied to take note.

He squeaked, “what happened to being careful?”

“This is your fault.” You eagerly pinned it on him. “Try being less hot.”

“That’s horrible advice. And also not possible. Which makes it worse than horrible.”

You weren’t sure whether or not you wanted to feel his mouth again or whack the side of his head with his deflated water bottle. Opting for latter, you stole another kiss, though you tensed in surprise when Jun wrapped his arm around your waist to secure your body firm against his. Hastily, you pushed at his toned stomach, your heart drilling manically as you looked over your shoulder toward the dancers. It didn’t appear as though anyone had seen and you breathed out in relief.

Suddenly, Soonyoung poked his head through the doorway.

“Ten minutes!” He shouted before disappearing.

Jun was staring at you with the most ingenious twinkle.

“That was your fault.” He purred, tapping your thigh with his water bottle. “Try being less hot.”

You did feel a small sliver of guilt. After all, Wonwoo had been waiting back at the apartment for approximately an hour, twiddling his thumbs, wondering why you and Jun required so much goddamn time just to buy some hot fudge sundaes. The molten taste of the chocolate, the vanilla ice cream, cold and sweet, was completely stolen from your lips by the boy whose lap you were occupying. Wonwoo’s sundae sat on the dashboard, dripping slowly beneath the evening sunlight.

And yet, that infinitesimal sliver was plucked straight out when Jun latched onto a sensitive patch of your neck, softly digging in his teeth and swirling his tongue. Your fingers sheathed through the black hair and pulled up at the roots, knowing how much pleasure he took from the dull sting. Button by button, Jun started to simultaneously open your shirt, to which you questioned if this was really happening, if you were really going to sort of out the complications of intercourse in his car.

The device abandoned in the passenger’s seat buzzed. You already knew the name to the text. As Jun kissed his way down to your collarbone, licking and suckling, you reached for your phone, feeling it buzz again with another impatient text. The guilt from earlier began to resurface.

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] This is suspicious now. WHERE ARE YOU? >:(

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] Actually screw that. WHERE IS MY HOT FUDGE SUNDAE?

The screen blipped with yet another message.

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] I know you’re reading these… Answer me or I won’t feed Princess Pebble!!

“J-Jun,” you piped up, hearing his low, husky mumble while he continued to mark your collarbone, “I think we need to go home now.”

The boy splayed a few more open-mouthed kisses against the skin before peeking up at you, his eyes wide and glimmering, lips flushed a deep magenta. With half the buttons of your shirt hanging open and your heart blazing, you had to snip the venereal longing in its bud.

“What’s wrong?” Jun hummed, pushing his fingers through the loops on your jeans. “Who’s texting?”

“Wonwoo. He’s been waiting for almost an hour, and his sundae is gonna be a puddle at this rate.”

He blinked a bit cluelessly, though still in musing. “There’s no way to be quick about this, is there?”

Rebuttoning your shirt, you shook your head and laughed. “Let’s wait before we ruin the car. I’m sure there’ll be a better time in the future.”

Jun nodded in agreement and relaxed back into the seat, a ray of sunshine that bled golden slanting through the windshield. Somehow, Wonwoo’s sundae wasn’t a complete pool sitting in the plastic cup, but that didn’t negate the fact he was still going to start his theory on responsibility and trust the moment you stepped onto the welcome mat. As you finished clasping the last buttons, something had caught Jun’s eye out the window, for he immediately panicked and tightly gripped your waist.

“Oh my god, g-get off my lap,” he grunted, to which your head bumped against the ceiling during the hurried shuffle and your knee whacked the gearstick.

“Ow! Okay, I’m going! Jeez, could you not give me a warning?”

“No,” Jun remarked, looking quickly to the rear-view mirror to straighten out his hair, “it’s Jeonghan and Soonyoung. They just came out of the store.”

When you glanced out Jun’s window, you noted the duo making their way across the parking lot, some plastic bags filled with groceries hanging from Jeonghan’s hand while Soonyoung appeared to be texting someone. To both your dismay, Soonyoung immediately recognized Jun’s car. You watched as the blonde bumped Jeonghan’s shoulder, how they took a slight detour on their way over.

“We have to talk to them?” You whined. “Are you kidding? Lock your window.”

Jun’s brow pinched together. “How is that going to help? They already saw us so just relax.”

“You’re telling me to relax? You practically threw me off your la—”

“Shht,” Jun snapped as the two boys drew nearer, “just shhhhht okay?” And with an incredibly large gulp, he plastered a happy-go-lucky smile to his mouth and let the window slide open.

“Jun?” Soonyoung called, leaning down slightly to peer inside the vehicle. “What’re you doing out here, huh? Back from shoplifting?”

Jeonghan bent down too, grinning snidely. “You looked a little frazzled or something.”

“Me?” Jun pointed at himself. “No, I’m fine. Just – we have to leave. Wonwoo is waiting.”

“Wonwoo?” Jeonghan seemed excited. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Hey, tell him I’m still appreciative for writing my World History paper on the Persian Empire.”

You knew it was best to stay quiet, but you couldn’t help your slight choke. Wonwoo had come home one day saying that one of his classmates offered him seventy-five bucks if he’d write their history paper. He wasn’t going to oblige originally, but cracked after listening to his classmate type out their introduction in the library, that it was just so bad Wonwoo felt piteous and decided to pitch in.

Gaping at Jeonghan, you exclaimed, “that was you?”

“Yeah. I mean, I still dropped that class. And Wonwoo definitely thinks I’m a dumbass. But I didn’t have to do a spot of work, and now I’m getting smooth nineties in English. You just have to make up some shit and do a couple fancy indents and you’re set.”

Jeonghan paused, then leaned in a little further to look you up and down. “Y’know, I’ve never seen you before. How easily do you give out your numbe—”

“We really have to go,” Jun interrupted, already clicking the button to roll up the window, “see you at practice, Soonyoung. Bye Jeonghan!”

The two boys didn’t really have any other option apart from stepping back, allowing Jun to exit the parking space and turn onto the road. Not that it would help much, you turned on the air conditioning until it felt like the wind was pure ice, hoping that you’d be able to preserve Wonwoo’s melting fudge sundae. You made sure to text him on your whereabouts, that you were heading home, and churned up a white lie about how you ran into Jun’s friends who held a persistent conversation.

It wasn’t entirely false. And yet, Wonwoo still managed to see through it.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: Just say you were making out.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: Btw, I fed Princess Pebble.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: I’m not a sinner. Unlike you guys.

Later that evening, after delivering Wonwoo his melted cup of chocolate ice cream, after Jun quickly threw some extra clothes into his backpack and ran to his late-night dance practice, you were standing at the fish tank with some new plants you bought for your guppy. As the bright lights of the tank reflected across your face, there was a strange feeling inside you. It seemed like turbulence, confusion, your heart experiencing one sentiment but your brain thinking another.

You hadn’t realized you were absently standing there until Wonwoo came into the dark living room, holding a crumpled tube of toothpaste and his toothbrush. Watching the pink fish swim in between her new seaweed arrangement, he asked you if there was an extra tube stored in your bedroom.

“Don’t think so. Text Jun and ask him to stop at the store when his practice ends.”

“I’ll do that…” Wonwoo sighed. “Hey, you know I already fed Princess Pebble?”

He accompanied you at the tank. For some reason, you refused to look at Wonwoo. You felt unusually vulnerable, like a fragile shell that could be cracked open even by the gentlest hands, and the more you thought into your emotions, the harder your heart started pounding.

“I-I know,” you smiled weakly, “but I got her some new plants today. I just put them in.”

Wonwoo could always tell when something was off-kilter. You almost hated how sharp his senses were, that he was able to detect with such accuracy how you were being eaten up inside. Softly, he touched your shoulder, urged you to turn toward him so he could see the honest colour in your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He frowned, pushing up the bridge of his glasses.

You felt terrified, but there was no sense in pretending.

“How do I tell Jun that I’m in love with him? That I don’t want us to be a secret anymore?”

It was a weighted question, and you knew that. But it was also the truth. As much as it could be invigorating to maintain a secret relationship, you were beginning to feel the brittle side effects that came with keeping such love behind closed doors. You didn’t want Jun to push you from his lap just because his friends might’ve seen you, nor did you want to keep an eye out for whether or not you should knock his hand off your thigh in public. The secrecy had been fun, but it wasn’t enough.

Scratching the blue collar of his shirt, Wonwoo appeared uncertain.

“I’m not sure, honestly. I just think you shouldn’t repress this. You need to be upfront.”

“How?” It sounded like a desperate plead. “I don’t know how, Wonwoo.”

“Stop overthinking it,” the boy advised, grabbing onto your shoulders and giving your frame a small, grounding shake, “you know Jun. You know he isn’t a rash person. You know if you tell him he’ll hear every word of it. It doesn’t take a genius to see you’re all he thinks about.”

Wonwoo brushed at the side of your cheek with his thumb. “Don’t hurt yourself like this, okay? The next time you’re alone, just say how you feel. I promise it won’t be as bad as you’re hypothesizing.”

You inhaled a deep breath and nodded. Overthinking was a poison to you. It shouldn’t be that difficult to be honest, especially when you knew how attentive Jun was, the manner in which he always adapted himself to be of a comforting presence.

“Okay,” you attempted to draw together some confidence, “I’ll do that.”

“Good.” The boy grinned, still fiddling with his empty tube of toothpaste. “It really doesn’t bother me that you guys run around together. Just… please… never do anything weird in my bed.”

The next time you were alone with Jun, it was all but a desirable circumstance. Once you came home from work and heated up some leftover dinner in the microwave, you decided to feed Princess Pebble, though your jaw unhinged as you noticed something a little unorthodox about her tank: a pink blotch floating against the surface of the water. Immediately, the tears welted hot and stinging against your eyes. You had to use the small net to scoop your guppy out from the water.

Remarkably, Princess Pebble had lived a long life for a fish. You remembered walking with Jun to the pet store one summer afternoon, after you two finished your last day of eleventh grade and had just escaped a brutal chemistry exam. Rather than studying beforehand, you spent ample time researching different types of fish, and would often send Jun pictures asking him to choose which one he thought was cutest. Yet, at the end of it all, you chose a guppy with the prettiest pink scales.

“Don’t most people want a puppy? A kitten? And you choose a boring fish.”

Jun had teased, sounding awkward and a bit lisped through his braces.

Somehow, Princess Pebble had managed to live a five-year lifespan. Wonwoo told you most guppies live for two years, three years if the owner takes good care. Sitting at the kitchen table, you placed her body onto a piece of paper towel, the thick tears dripping down your cheeks while your sinuses grew wet and congested. You didn’t know if it was petulant to be your age, crying over a pet fish. In fact, you didn’t even possess the heart to rise from the table and discard her body.

It wasn’t much longer until Jun returned home after his theatre class, to which you heard his key rattling in the lock. Wonwoo was scheduled for a shift at the cinema, most likely handing out overpriced popcorn and chocolate and having to reject every person who asked for his number.

“Hey,” he called, shouldering off his backpack, “Wonwoo texted me. That weird thriller we were looking at is playing next week. We should—,”

Jun paused the moment he heard your runny sniffling. He didn’t realize that your fish was sitting on the paper towel until he took a few steps closer. You felt embarrassed Jun had to see you like this. If you were crying, it had always been over something with a little more gravity, like the time you were distraught about flunking your laboratory practical, and Wonwoo couldn’t persuade you to open your bedroom door no matter how frequently he stood outside, pleading.

Plucking at the collar of your shirt, you used the fabric to clear away the tears. Without a word, Jun grabbed another chair from the dining table and pulled it next to you, scooting in close. As soon as you felt his arm drape around your shoulders, it was like someone had pulled the plug on a bathtub filled with water, to which you pressed your face against his neck and sobbed harder.

“I’m so sorry.” Jun whispered, hugging you tight to his comfortable chest. “It’s okay to be upset. I know how much she meant to you.”

He drew soothing strokes down the back of your head, and he sat with you until those wet pearls ran dry with salt. You knew it wasn’t wise to keep her body out in the air, that you would have to discard her somehow, yet the thought of having to flush her away seemed too cruel. Jun wiped the soft glisten from your cheeks with his sleeve, his fingers then tracing up and down the side of your face.

“I-I don’t want to flush her.” You blubbered.

The boy shook his head. “We won’t do that. We’ll find a good way to handle it.” His thumb brushed tenderly below the fragile skin of your eye for a moment, and he seemed to be in musing.

“Wait here.” He announced, suddenly running into his bedroom.

You could hear Jun shuffling through his closet, moving around clothing hangers and pushing aside boxes still filled with some of his old belongings from homelife in Shenzhen. When he remerged into the living room, he was holding a particular tissue box, one that you hadn’t seen since twelfth grade biology. You, Jun, and Wonwoo had painted and decorated the box as part of an optional project, to see if you could grow any plants from the packets of radish and tomato seeds your teacher had.

Nothing ever grew. Wonwoo claimed there had been some green sprouts when it was his turn to look after the makeshift garden, but that his cat snuck into his room and ate them all. Jun always kept a multitude of random things that dated back to your adolescence. As awkward and bumpy as those times were, seeing the tissue box reminded you that there had been precious moments too.

“Why do you still have that?” You laughed, even if your chest was aching.

“Because that was the first time us three did something together.” Jun said, returning to his seat beside you. “It was one of the first memories I made after moving away from home.”

You fondly looked at Jun while pulling the tissue box toward you, slathered in old, chipping acrylic paint and obnoxious, starry glitter.

Licking the dry salt off your lips, you smiled. “Princess Pebble would love this.”

“It can be her shrine. When Wonwoo comes home, we can find a good place to bury it.” Jun explained. “I know I called her boring five years ago, but I didn’t mean it. I loved her too.”

In the pensive silence, you thought back to your conversation with Wonwoo, recalling his firm grip on your shoulders as he reiterated the importance of freeing your heart, of not bogging yourself down with too many untold truths. Then, you glanced at Jun. You thought about that fluttering feeling when you kissed him, when you ran your fingers through his hair, listening to his deep-chested laughter whenever he gleefully buckled over into your lap after telling one of his hit-or-miss jokes.

The boy tensed slightly as you pulled him into a hug, though he quickly came to ease and warmth. You thanked him, because it just felt like the right thing to do for his compassion.

And then you told him something else.

“I love you.”

Without missing a heartbeat, he murmured against your hair, “I love you too.”

It was late, unreasonably late, the past-midnight late where the entire world falls still like an unperturbed pond. Downtown was completely hushed. Every so often the wind picked up, though it inevitably withered away in between the buildings and emerged a pitiful whistle onto the street. And yet, despite the fact you should be tucked in bed while the moon protected the silence in her silver hands, you were pushing outside the convenience shop with Jun close behind.

He took the end of a straw into his mouth and slurped at the sweet, cherry-flavoured slushie that was beginning to empty. Immediately, he crinkled his forehead and his face contorted.

“How many times have I said not to do that?” You laughed as he passed you the slippery cup.

“I don’t know. Three?” Jun replied with a grimace. “I can really feel it. Wait, I need a moment.”

You stopped next to the traffic post at the end of the street. Jun grabbed at his hair and squeezed like it was some miraculous remedy for curing a brain freeze. Directing the straw into your mouth, you sucked up the cherry syrup and crushed ice until you felt the distant ache thrum inside your head.

“Okay…” Jun concluded, brushing the long, black fringe from his eyes, “I’m good now.”

Thrusting the drink back into his hands, you couldn’t help but huff: “you’re such a baby.”

As though to prove your point, Jun started whining. “My head is so, so cold. It’s freezing.”

“So put this up or something.” You teased, reaching around the back of his neck to pull the boy’s hood over his head. Giggling slightly, you grinned at him as he shot you a questionable glance.

The streets remained quiet, and the sky was remarkably clear, no more than a few ragged and thin clouds drifting over the stars. The last time you had been on this corner, you were licking the strawberry sugar off your fingertips while Jun crumpled his last packet of popping candy. You remembered tracing the rose tint that warmed his lips, each fibre in your muscle twitching because you just wanted to wrap a hand through his locks and kiss him like he was your last breath.

You didn’t understand how you could love one person so much. Why love often fused itself into your bloodstream more than functionality. Your heart knew how to beat, yet it stumbled whenever you gazed at him. Your lungs knew how to filter the air, yet they closed up whenever you caught his eye. Your tongue knew how to articulate, yet it tied itself in a knot the moment he’d touch you.

“Hey,” you mumbled, patting his arm, “can I ask you something?”

Jun looked away from the stars, sipping at his drink again. He nodded.

The moon probably wanted to crush your heart in her hands for how loudly it was thumping.

“What if I told you that I want people to know we’re together? What would you say?”

Despite your anxiousness, you weren’t as afraid as you anticipated. Maybe it was because Jun didn’t immediately sour or attempt to disparage your sentiments. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking as he blinked at you, but it didn’t matter. When it was most important, Jun picked his words carefully.

“I’d tell you that I want the same thing,” he admitted, his tone deepening and the amber in his cheeks sparked with pink, “that I want people to know how I feel about you… That I’ve always been in love with you.”

You smiled wide, like a kid who just got their braces off. Unable to contain such a rapturous energy, you stepped in close to Jun and held onto his shoulders, dotting the corners of his mouth with small kisses before you pressed your lips against his. You felt him smirk, though it seemed too devious. Jun had suddenly wrapped his arms around your lower back, pushing you in chest-to-chest. You melted as he kissed you, your fingertips ghosting along the soft hairs at his nape, the moonlight on your skin.

When you arrived back at the apartment, you could hear a few of Wonwoo’s gentle snores echo from behind the bedroom door. Just before you slipped away into your own room, Jun left a goodnight kiss to the top of your head, his hand thoughtfully squeezing your hip.

“I-Isn’t it a little late for that?” Jun stumbled through his laughter. “Why do you need me?”

You finally knew what you should have said.

“Because I love you.”

✧✎ a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SWEET PRINCE!! never would i have imagined that someone who’s on the opposite side of the globe could mean so much to me ;_; mr. moon has been such a healing presence, and it’s bc of him that i have found so much happiness these past five years! whenever i see him smiling and laughing and have good ol times just being himself, all my worrisome thoughts somehow fade away and i feel only joy!!

anyways, i don’t want to ramble for too long (i could really fill a page with my cloying sentiments r.i.p) but i hope this was a wholesome fic!! the stars aligned and for once i was able to write a fic for a member’s birthday :_)

#svt fanfic #jun scenarios #seventeen scenarios #jun fic #seventeen fics #seventeen imagines #jun imagine #jun x reader #svt x reader #wen junhui #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #junhui scenarios #jun fluff #junhui fic

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yoongi-sugaglider · 3 years

Text

Daegu Quarantine

Jungkook x reader

Gang/ zombie apocalypse au

Warnings:

Gore, violence, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?

Summary:

They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?

Word count: 2640

Part 15===Part 16===Part 17

The next handful of days became a blur of activity. Well, more so for the others than for me.

Hoseok and I had been ordered to strict bedrest, which only one of us actually took seriously. While I sat in bed most of the day, watching movies on my laptop or vegging out on as many snacks as I could convince Jeanette to bring me, Hoseok on the other hand snuck by Jimin as often as possible to help the boys with various projects around the house.

The only reason I even found out is because every few hours I’d hear Jimin fussing at him all the way up the stairs and back to the bodyguard’s bedroom.

I sat with Jeanette, Rose, and Jimin one afternoon, chatting away with them while Jimin checked my leg wound when Jungkook wandered into the bedroom, a stoic look on his face as he sat at his computer desk and turned to stare blankly at my injured leg.

“Something on your mind boss?” Jimin asked as he cinched the bandage tight and turned to begin putting his tools away in his bag.

“Mmm…”

The noncommittal sound drew my attention and I frowned at him, worry creasing my forehead as I reached my hand over to the small throw pillow I’d been using to prop up my injured leg.

“Oi! Earth to Jeon!” I yelled, tossing the pillow overhand at him. He caught it midair, never breaking eye contact with my leg as he tossed it onto the floor beside him.

“We can’t let Eun Kwang get away with this…” He muttered, the stoic look dissolving into a frown when he finally met my eyes.

“We’ve talked about this Kookie. There’s no point to trying to retaliate. We have no idea where they’re holed up. Nor how many of them there are or what kind of fire power they’re packing.” I leaned forward, pulling my pajama pant leg down and leaning back into the headboard.

“If we had even a sliver of that information…”

“Jungkook please…” I whispered, eyes pleading with him to drop it.

He growled, shoving his way out of the chair and to his feet. Fists clenched at his sides he glared at me, though the moment didn’t last long as his gaze softened.

I shook my head, nodding to Jeanette and Rose. “We have far too much on the line to risk even one of us getting dropped because of some half thought out revenge scheme. Jungkook, going out there would be suicide.”

“You wouldn’t leave a girl widowed before you’ve even gotten a chance to marry her boss, would ya?” Jimin’s quiet words seemed to do the trick.

Jungkook stared at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape as if he’d had half a mind to argue with the words from the wise doctor. But after a moment of fish bowling he shut his mouth, shaking his head with a resigned sigh.

“No...you’re both right. It’s hot headed and foolishness that’d get me killed before I even made it halfway there.” He bowed his head for a moment, eyes closed as he inhaled slowly.

“See, Tae said you were a smart man.” Rose grinned at him, standing from the bed and patting him on his arm. “Come on bud, let’s get some food in ya. I bet you haven’t eaten all day have ya?”

I snorted at the two, waving them off and thanking Jimin for his hard work. The room quickly cleared out, leaving just me and Jeanette to ruminate in our thoughts for a bit while I shifted around in bed trying to find a comfortable spot to mope in.

“Hey y/n?” Came the whispered voice of Jeanette, causing me to pause in my movements.

“What’s up?” A smile came to my lips as I watched the timid woman worrying at the hem of her shirt.

“Well umm… I was talking to Jin this morning while we worked on breakfast...about the pantry and stuff?”

I nodded as she paused, motioning for her to continue when she glanced over to me with a look of worry.

“Well, it’s just that… Yes, we have an amazing pantry. MRE’s keep for ages and so do canned goods. But like...wouldn’t it be nice to have fresh produce?” When I remained silent and smiling at her words her face lit up.

She began talking faster, turning in place to sit cross legged before me. She pulled the pillow I’d discarded earlier into her lap to protect the tiny protrusion of her belly as she spoke at length about her plans.

“Since there aren’t that many of us it wouldn’t have to be that big at first. And of course it would take a while for anything to grow. But just imagine, come fall we could have all kinds of amazing fresh veggies. Corn, carrots, tomatoes and potatoes. I could even manage cucumbers and watermelon if we could find things for the vines to climb.”

I leaned forward, taking her hands in mine and running my thumbs reassuringly across the ridges of her knuckles as she spoke, watching the idea grow bigger and bigger within her. The passion in her voice alone had me picturing the enclosed area, teaming with life and greenery and her tiny plump form tending to the plants as she coo’d at them as if they were her own children.

As she began outlining plans for bird proof netting she paused though, mouth curved into a gentle O of surprise and if I didn’t know any better, fear as her head whipped to the door to stare at Yoongi who’d been watching us...well her, talk this whole time.

“Oh...Yoongi I…” She bowed her head, seeming to shrink in on herself as if seeing the man had taken the wind out of her sails.

“Go on…” He whispered, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with an encouraging smile.

“It’s just….Jin told me to ask Hoseok, who pointed me to Jungkook, who told me to ask you...and well.”

“Jeanette…” My smile only grew when her gaze finally mine. Hope began shining in her eyes and it seemed that the entirety of her frame lit up with our shared excitement.

“I love the idea. Honestly. We can get Namjoon to draw up your plans. He’s basically a genius so I’m sure he could engineer it to be the second safest place in Daegu. And since we’ve been having issues with Hoseok sitting still for long enough, he can be on duty for helping you till the soil or anything else that you might need.”

“I’ll be there to help as well…”

I glanced over to Yoongi and he grinned at the shocked look on my face.

“All of my end of things is done. You can’t exactly expect me to sit on my thumbs while cleaning my weapons all day now can you?”

Jeanette giggled at his words, gingerly lifting herself from the bed and smoothing out the black YG shirt that drowned her figure, another of Yoongi’s favorite shirts.

“Thank you y/n. Really I mean it. I was worried that I wasn’t able to contribute enough to everything that was going on and well...with this…”

“Hey now, we talked about this.” Yoongi walked over, wrapping her in a side hug and tracing his fingers down the bare skin of her arm. “You’re doing plenty enough. Between laundry and helping Jin cook all the meals?”

“Exactly.” I chimed in, shifting to my side a bit so I could send her a less pained smile. “Nobody in this house thinks you’re a burden in any way. And if they even think it I’ll tell Jungkook to beat them up on the spot.”

Yoongi snickered, sending me another grin. “He’d do it too, no questions asked. So don’t worry your pretty little head about it, yeah?”

She nodded after a moment’s hesitation.

“Well, alright then. It’s settled.” He began steering her towards the door, shooting me one last grateful smile. “Let’s get those plans started on. Let the boss lady get herself some rest.

As my bedroom door shut behind them, I couldn’t help but to wonder when and how they’d gotten so close.

***

By dinner time I’d managed to convince Jimin to let me down to the basement. Everyone was off doing their own thing and frankly sitting alone to eat in the bedroom again had made me so nauseous just thinking about it that I’d almost opted to skip dinner all together. But he’d seen the desperate plea in my eyes and relented, barring that I allowed Jungkook to carry me down there.

I sat with Taehyung and Rose, munching away at my meal as I watched them giggle over stories they shared of when they’d first met.

“It was a coding nightmare. I’d only been working for the main office for two months when they put his case in my lap. Some young kid that’d managed to bully his way into the Seoul Police department’s criminal database and posted all of the corrupt politicians with arrest warrants and speeding ticket fees to every news site that he could get his grubby little hands on.” Rose cackled, throwing her head back as her entire body shook with the force of her laugh.

“Hey! That was some of my best work!” Taehyung pouted, tossing a wayward green bean in her direction and causing her to snort harder.

“Best work? You had everything so scrambled from that little backdoor snipe that it took their tech department 2 years to set everything straight.” She shook her head, popping the betrayed green bean in her mouth before tossing one of her own in his direction.

He caught it in his mouth easily, smirking all the while before continuing his rant. “It was the art job that did me in.”

“Art job?” I leaned forward, almost instantly regretting the movement when a rib shifted and sent a spike of pain shooting through my chest.

“Shit, you good?” Tae asked, looking as if he was half way to dropping everything to come to my rescue.

I waved him off, shoving a hand over the cursed injury and grinning despite the pain.

“I’m fine. Now come on, tell me about the art job!”

Rose snorted, placing her plate beside her and leaning back on her hands to give Tae a coy smile. “It was why I call him Art Nerd. He decided it would be a good idea to hack into the archives of one of the biggest art museums in the world.”

“You wouldn’t believe it!” Tae tossed up his hands, all angst and agitation as he stood abruptly and began pacing the room. “Of all the places you would think that would be trustworthy about their pieces and whether they were authentic or not. The Louvre!!” He paused in his pacing, pointing angrily to his computer before spinning on his heels to scowl at me when I began snickering.

“Did you know…” He paused, stalking closer and bending forward to glare in my face, “that 87% of all the art in the Louvre is fake?”

I gasped, feigning shock at the revelation.

“That’s right! It’s a travesty! They spit on the names of the greatest artists to have ever walked the face of this planet!” He growled, turning from me to begin pacing again. “The nerve of those imbeciles. Displaying Van Gogh forgeries as if they were the real deal.”

“Needless to say when he tried to tell the world what he found out he got caught.” Rose shook her head, picking at the last of her mashed potatoes with her fork.

She glanced over at me, sly smile broadening into a full grin.

“Did you know he was wanted in 27 countries for that little debacle?”

“Tae!!!” I gasped, eyes wide as I stared at him in awe.

He shrugged, literally beaming at this point with pride though he tried to play it off as bashfulness.

Rose pointed behind me and I shifted around to stare.

“Wait…” My eyes widened with equal parts horror and pride as I whipped my head around to glare at Taehyung. “Tae...you didn’t!!”

This time he couldn’t disguise the pride. He bounded around the sofa, skidding to a stop before what I had previously thought was just a bunch of band posters. There, hanging on the wall was what Tae had told us long ago was a quilt that his grandmother had given him.

He’d sworn that he’d remove the hands of anyone who ever dared touch it. Hell he’d chased Jungkook halfway to downtown Daegu once for nudging it with his shoulder during one of the boy’s many playful basement wrestling matches. But as he slowly and reverently lifted the blanket I quickly realized the real reason why he treasured it so much. Right there on the wall, hanging between two trashy band posters was…

“Tae is that Starry Night?? Like… the actual real fucking deal Starry Night?????” I screeched.

“I couldn’t help it. When I found out they’d hung it between two forgeries I just knew I had to save it.” He lovingly traced his fingers above the protective glass, never actually touching it but making the motions nonetheless.

Rose muttered behind me, snickering into her hand as Tae dropped the quilt back into place and turned to frown at her.

“What was that Jangmi?” he growled, his already baritone voice dropping as he walked back to stand over her.

She squeaked, shrinking back as he crouched down and lifted her chin with a single finger so that she was forced to look him in the eyes.

“I said...I...hnnggg…” The brilliant blush rushing to her cheeks had me bursting with laughter, gripping my sides as I pressed myself into the sofa.

“Damn you two are adorable.” I wheezed, wiping at my tears as I watched the two hackers spring apart as if they’d forgotten I was there.

Tae gathered up our dishes, muttering to himself all the while as he disappeared upstairs. But not before I spotted his own crimson cheeked grin.

“Huh…” Rose muttered. I returned my attention to her, realizing quickly that she was now staring at the security feed pulled up on the tv before us.

“What’s up?” I asked, eyes darting over the various live images before settling on one that showed Jeanette and Seokjin talking in the area they’d decided would be the future garden.

“I thought I saw something.” Came Rose’s absent minded reply. She clicked on the video I’d been watching, bringing it up to fill the screen and squinting at a corner of the shed beside the unaware pair.

“Are you sure?” I whispered, straining to make anything out in the depths of the shadows.

“Maybe not… Tae’s better at security monitoring than I am… Let me just…”

She began typing rapidly, a series of commands appearing on screen before a top down view of the area appeared.

“Is that…”

“A live satellite view, yeah. I figured, I’ve got access to them, why not use them…” She clicked again, zooming in rapidly before suddenly screaming. “Oh shit! There’s chatterers outside the fucking gates!”

“The fuck did you just say!?”

We both screamed as Jungkook charged around the sofa, appearing as if from nowhere and grabbing Rose’s arm in a death grip.

“What do you mean there’s chatterers outside the gates?” Jungkook glared at Rose, the hardened criminal in him causing her to cower as far back as his grip would allow her.

“Kook…”

“I’m sorry okay! I was wondering what it was that I’d seen in the backyard, and when I switched to the satellite feed I saw them. It’s at least 30 of them. Jungkook, we’re surrounded!”

#bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook reader insert #jeon jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #bts gang au #bts zombie au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts x reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts imagine #bts x reader #bangtan boys imagine

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bibliosophist · 3 years

Text

Soft as Bread, Sweet as Honey, Chapter... Idk, 4?

Hi folx! I guess there is more to this story. I’m working on what will be chapter 4 on here, and chapter 2 on AO3. You can read it below the break if you want to, or you can hop on over there and just read the whole thing properly. Beelzebub x Female Reader

Cooking duty is one of the chores at the House of Lamentation that you mind the least. You’ll certainly take it over cleaning the common room. It never ceases to amaze you how much of a mess fully grown men- demons- whatever- can make. Like all chores in the house, everyone takes turns cooking. Unlike other chores, people usually double up on cooking duty on account of there being so many mouths to feed-- especially when one of those mouths belongs to Beelzebub. Your cooking partner this semester is Levi, and though he does more talking than cooking, you’re generally fine with that. His constant stream of anime and game related chatter puts you at ease as you cook.

It had taken some time for you to get familiar with some of the more exotic Devildom ingredients, but you had found many that bore a close resemblance to food you were familiar with from the human world, and whatever you were unfamiliar with you were pretty good at researching on your DDD. You’d found a few Devildom dishes that you were comfortable cooking, but most often you ended up making food inspired by things you’d loved eating in the human world. Tonight you have decided to make okonomiyaki, a personal favourite. It would be easy enough to prepare a large quantity of, and allowed for enough customization of toppings that everyone would end up happy. Plus, you figured, Levi probably wouldn’t mind actually helping-- his fondness for everything Japanese outweighing his innate laziness.

When you enter the spacious kitchen, Levi is nowhere in sight. No matter, you think. You’ll start without him. You busy yourself washing vegetables and preparing a large pan of Covetous Cod fillets to bake. The mild fish, you think, will pair well with the tangy sauce.

You’ve almost finished peeling a pile of yams when you hear a voice behind you.

“Uh, hi.”

That is most certainly not Levi’s voice. Slowly you turn around, meeting Beel’s eyes from where he stands, large frame taking up most of the doorway.

“Hi,” you say back, your stomach fluttering.

This is the first time you’ve been alone together since the incident in the alleyway a few days ago. Between your project with Sibyl and his brothers’ constant presence, you haven’t been able to say two words to each other in private, and thanks to another one of Mammon’s pranks backfiring, the brothers’ texting privileges have once again been temporarily revoked. You briefly considered texting him anyway, but shuddered at the thought of Lucifer finding out and reading your messages. Though you haven’t had any alone time, it hasn’t stopped him from holding your hand under the table when nobody's looking, or smiling at you in the halls.

“Sorry I’m a little late.” A rosy tinge crept into his cheeks. “I got Levi to switch with me, but, uh, I got hungry on the way home and stopped for a few doughnuts.”

You can feel a grin spreading over your face. “You got Levi to switch. How did you manage that?”

“It wasn’t hard. He doesn’t like making anything more complicated than instant noodles.”

You laugh, running the peeler over the yam you’re holding. “So I’ve come to realize. But why did you ask him in the first place? Isn’t this just more work for you? Are you that tired of Ruri-chan Ramen?”

“Instant ramen is good, but I like variety in my meals. I get a little bit bored with just one flavor. Not,” he says, panic on his face, “that your cooking is boring. I like your cooking very much...” he trails off, cheeks on fire.

Your grin widens and you turn back to your task, beginning to grate the yam into fine strips. “I agree. It’s better when there are different, complimenting flavours.” If he doesn’t have a problem with your cooking, could he have come here just to see you? Your heart beats a little bit faster.

“Are you okay with my plan of making okonomiyaki? It’s a human world dish, but it’s really versatile. I think it will work well with the ingredients we have here.”

“Ah, yeah, I’ve had that before when I visited up there,” he says, pointing at the ceiling.

“Is it really “up” from here? Like, if I sprouted wings and flew straight up, would I get to the human world eventually?”

“I’m not sure,” he laughs, “I don’t know if anyone has ever tried getting there without using a portal.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” you say, gathering the grated yam into a bowl and beginning to thinly slice cabbage. “The cod is already baking. It should be done in a few minutes. Do you want to start on the batter for the pancakes?”

He nods, coming to stand beside you at the counter. “I can do that. Can you tell me how?”

“I actually wrote the instructions out over here,” you say, gesturing to a piece of paper.

“So...” you trail off, keenly aware of how close he’s standing to you. “What kinds of things do you like cooking?”

“Oh, um. I don’t think anybody has ever asked me that before. Usually they only ask me what I want to eat,” he says. When you glance over at him, he’s got a finger in his mouth. You suspect he’s just dipped it in the flour. You can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips again, or the memory of how his skin tasted. Thankfully you don’t think he’s noticed you peering at him, because he keeps talking. “I guess I like grilling best. It’s pretty quick, and you get to watch the whole thing. It’s not like baking. That’s frustrating.”

“I don’t have the patience for baking either,” you say, resting your hip against the island as you watch Beel begin to crack eggs into his bowl. “One wrong measurement and the whole thing is ruined. Oh, hang on, you’ve got an eggshell in your batter.” You reach over, plucking the tiny fragment of shell out and wiping it on a teatowel.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s completely fine, it happens. That looks good, now just stir it all together.”

“Is it supposed to be kind of... runny?”

“Sure,” you say, carrying over the bowls of vegetables, “if it’s too thick, it won’t cook through properly. Here,” you reach into the bowl, transferring handfuls of cabbage and yam into the batter. “Make sure the vegetables get well coated. I’m going to take the fish out.”

“Thank you for letting me help,” he says.

“What do you mean?” you ask, sliding protective mitts over your hands before opening the oven. It smells incredible, and your stomach rumbles. Normally you’d cut off a big chunk and snack on it while you finished cooking-- Levi had usually wandered off by this point in the process-- but you’re acutely aware that it’s not Levi standing behind you.

“Well, usually my cooking partner is Lucifer. He likes things the way he likes them. And...” he trails off, bringing the batter over to the stove. He looks a little dazed, eyes locked on the pan of cod. “That smells incredible.”

“Thanks. I hope it tastes as good as it smells. Wait- no!” Your warning comes too late, he’s already reached out to pinch off a corner of the flakey flesh. He hisses in pain, pulling his fingers back, shaking them vigorously.

“That’s another reason he doesn’t like me in the kitchen with him,” he says bashfully.

“Come here,” you say, taking his other hand and leading him across the room to the faucet. You turn the cold tap on and test it with your own hand before taking his injured one and running it under the chilly water. “Is that better?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he mumbles, cheeks pinker than his fingers. “I have a hard time controlling myself. It’s like I know better, but I forget when there’s food around.”

You chuckle, rotating his hand under the stream. “I get that. Normally I snack while I cook. I don’t like waiting either. Then I end up eating way more than I should.”

He nods along with your words. “I do the same thing. There’s this one soup that Belphie really loves, but every time I try to make it for him, I end up eating it all before it’s ready and have to start all over again.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” you say, turning the tap off. You gently dab his hand dry with a clean teatowel. “I’m going to go get the first aid kit from my bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“No, wait,” he says, catching your arm as you turn away from him. “Stay here with me.”

“But your fingers-”

“Already feel much better,” he says, drawing you back to him. Now his eyes are glazed with something other than hunger. He cuts off your protest with a kiss. His lips are so soft and warm; you melt right into him. When your lips move against his he scoops you up in his arms, sitting you on the counter, bringing your face level with his. “I missed you,” he whispers, pulling back to kiss your nose.

“I missed you too,” you whisper back, resting one leg on either side of his hips. You wrap your arms around his neck and your mouth back to his. His hands find your waist and he holds you tight as your tongues explore each other’s mouths. You hadn’t realized how badly you’d wanted to touch him these past few days, and now that you are you can’t get enough. Your hands find their way under the collar of his jacket, fingers running over his broad shoulders. You’re in the process of sliding his jacket down his arms when a familiar voice cuts through your haze.

“- getting hungry, do you need any help in- oh.” Breaking apart, you look to the source of the interruption to find Satan standing in the doorway, one hand on his hip and a smirk on his face. “So dinner will be quite late, then.” he says.

“Beel burned his finger,” you blurt.

“Uh-huh,” Satan nods. “And to sooth it he had to stick his tongue down your thro-”

“Get out,” Beel yells, seizing a nearby piece of fruit and throwing it in his brother’s general direction.

Satan steps to the side, smoothly avoiding it. He chuckles. “I’ll tell the others dinner will be a bit late.”

Face absolutely on fire, you hop off of the counter and cross back to the stove. “I’ll just heat up some oil,” you say.

Beel follows after a moment, resting his hands on your hips as you begin cooking the pancakes. “Can we finish that kiss after dinner?” he asks

It takes all your willpower to continue spooning batter in the pan. You don’t trust your voice, so you just nod.

#Obey Me #Shall We Date: Obey Me #om! beel #om! beelzebub

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good-things-do-happen-dean · 4 years

Note

I am actually terrible at prompts but for you I will try: Dean and Cas teach at the same school but no one knows they’re married because Cas was just hired a few months ago, and they don’t want people to think that’s the only reason he got the job; cue Benny incessantly flirting with Cas and trying to ask him out until Dean is forced to step in. The ending is up to you (;

[casually writes this one hundred years later] i love this prompt so much em, thank you for sending it 💖also, it’s me, so i think you can probably guess where the ending goes hahaha enjoy!!!

sweet like honey, sweet like molasses

“Mornin’, sunshine,” somebody drawls across the teachers’ lounge.

Dean doesn’t look up from the copier, until he hears Cas say “Good morning, Benny,” back to the somebody, and he nearly puts a crick in his neck from looking up so quickly because what the hell, that’s Dean’s line.

The somebody in question, Benny, apparently, is leaning back against the counter with the coffee maker, sipping from a steaming mug that says “Mornings suck” in red over a cartoon vampire. He’s a big guy, or, maybe he’s not actually. He’s shorter than Cas, but broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, with a neatly trimmed beard and bright blue eyes.

Dean turns his ring around his finger with his thumb, looking back at the growing stack of copies without really seeing them. They chat about Benny’s AP class maybe coming by the library next week to review research strategies for their upcoming project. Benny says something that makes Cas laugh, rich and low. And Dean finds he suddenly needs a fresh cup.

“Hey there,” he says, squeezing between Cas and Benny to get to the coffee pot. “Morning, Cas.” He doesn’t miss Cas rolling his eyes at him ever so briefly. “Don’t think we’ve had the pleasure,” he says to Benny, reaching out a hand. “I’m Dean Winchester, ninth and tenth grade English.”

Benny grins, and it spreads across his face all slow like honey, or molasses maybe, with that accent. Okay, Dean decides. Fine, he’s hot. Whatever.

“Benjamin Lafitte,” he says, shaking Dean’s hand. “But you can call me Benny. I’m the new Miss Kline while she’s on maternity leave.”

“I see you’ve met Mr. Novak, here,” Dean says, clapping Cas on the shoulder.

“Practically the first thing I did when I was hired.” Benny winks at Cas across Dean, who gives Cas’s shoulder a little squeeze. Only because he’s friendly, and definitely not because he’s possessive or jealous of this guy. Also definitely not to show off the simple silver band on his ring finger that wouldn’t mean anything to Benny anyway.

That’s the plan, after all, to keep their marriage private at school. They live out of the district, so it’s unlikely they’ll run into any students in line at the grocery store or the movie theater. Same for coworkers.

As far as almost everyone knows, the Winchester-Novaks are just Mr. Winchester and Mr. Novak, work friends who hit it off pretty much immediately after Mr. Novak was hired. They get to work at the same time, but they drive separately.They have lunch together, but they eat in the teacher’s lounge instead of in Cas’s tiny office at the back of the library. Dean normally stops by the library at the end of his planning during fourth period, but that’s because he teaches English and the library is, well, where the books are. It’s not because he’s a sap who misses his husband an hour and a half after they’ve just eaten lunch together. Or, okay, it is that, but nobody else knows it.

“Would you look at the time,” Dean says at the sound of the first bell. He rinses out his mug, setting it upside down in the drying rack, before heading to the door. “Gotta beat the thundering hordes to the stairs.”

“Actually,” Benny says, “I’ve got planning first period. Mind if I swing by to pick your brain about that project, Cas?”

Dean turns to stare daggers into Benny’s broad back with one hand on the doorknob. It isn’t that he doesn’t trust Cas, of course he does, but there’s something about this Benny character that rubs him the wrong way.

“Dean?” Cas calls after him, just like he would at home from the garden or the kitchen to where Dean is working in the garage. Dean very nearly says, yeah, babe? but he catches himself just in time. “Your copies.”

Right.

***

Things continue on like that. Benny starts showing up at the same time as them, somehow casually overtaking them so he can hold the door open. He joins them in the teacher’s lounge before school for a cup of coffee and a chat. He sits with them at lunch. He pops his head into the library at the end of the day (when Dean is there during his planning) with a cheery “see ya tomorrow!” and a wink.

Benny asks them about places to go in town. Which coffee shop has the best cold brew, which one has the best atmosphere for getting work done, which one attracts the least students. Where’s the nearest place to fish, or would it be better to drive farther up the highway. What’s the deal with the weird owner of that bookstore on Main.

In the evenings, when Cas and Dean are stretched out on the couch, Cas with his legs draped over Dean’s lap while he reads, Dean using said legs as a slightly lopsided table to grade on., they talk about it, a little.

“He’s harmless,” Cas says. “And besides,” he folds himself up to sitting and presses a kiss to Dean’s temple. “I love you.”

Dean’s ninth graders may or may not get their essays back a day late after one such evening when the stack of papers he’s working on are unceremoniously dropped on the floor, and Dean hauls Cas up and fully into his lap for a while before they fall asleep curled together on the couch.

Soon enough, Dean even starts to maybe like the guy. A little. Not that they’re friends, or anything, but he doesn’t mind Benny so much, doesn’t mind the three of them being the three of them so much. Sure, he doesn’t love Benny staring at Cas over his mug like he hung the moon, or the gifts he starts bringing (“Made it outta that Metatron guy’s bookstore alive. Have you read this? I think you’d like it,” one day, a hearty loaf of homemade bread the next week), but it’s fine. They get along despite the shameless flirting.

Until all of a sudden, it’s been four and a half months and Miss Kline is due back next week. They’re sitting in the teacher’s lounge before school on a Friday at their usual table. Charlie, the computer skills teacher, Dean’s work wife, and the only person on staff besides Principal Singer who knows the truth, just popped in to show them pictures of the baby, little Jack, with his tuft of blond hair sticking straight up and his chubby cheeks.

“Well,” Benny says, leaning back in his chair. “End of the road.”

“We’ll miss you,” Cas says sincerely, reaching across the table to pat his arm.

“Don’t suppose,” Benny starts, looking right at Cas. “You’d wanna get a drink?”

“Okay,” Dean says because he’s finally had enough of this guy. “Look, dude, he’s taken.”

Benny looks at him and cocks his head like he doesn’t understand.

“A ring, I mean, come on, Cas is wearing a ring. A wedding ring.” Dean knows he’s almost definitely getting too loud because Cas’s other hand squeezes his thigh.

“Dean,” Cas says.

“And another thing -” Dean starts, but then he’s the one who doesn’t understand because Benny’s tipping his head back and laughing, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Cher,” Benny says, and Dean bristles at the pet name. A pet name, for his husband. The nerve of this guy. “You think I don’t know you two are together?”

Wait.

“You think,” Benny says, and leans forward in his chair, making direct eye contact with Dean. “I was only flirting with Mr. Novak here?”

“Uh,” Dean says, eloquently.

Benny raises an eyebrow, that same molasses grin spreading across his face. And then Cas is laughing, and Benny joins in, and, eventually, after he finishes thinking through the last four and a half months in a different light, so does Dean.

***

The other history teacher, Mildred, retires at the end of the school year. There’s a retirement party in the teacher’s lounge that’s also a welcome back Mr. Lafitte party.

When they come back in August, as far as almost everyone knows, the three of them are just Mr. Winchester, Mr. Novak, and Mr. Lafitte, work friends who really hit it off last spring when Ms. Kline was out. They used to drive separately, but now they carpool. They sometimes eat lunch in the teachers’ lounge with Charlie, but mostly they eat together crowded around the tiny desk in the tiny office at the back of the library. It works out that Benny and Dean have the same planning period, so they normally end up in the library at the end of the day, co-planning an interdisciplinary English and history unit with all sorts of supplementary materials that Cas helps them find.

And in the evenings, when they’re stretch out on the couch, Cas reading with his legs in Dean’s lap, his head against Benny’s shoulder, Dean and Benny grading on the matching lap desks Cas bought them at the beginning of the school year, they’ll catch each other’s eye over Cas’s head and grin, slow and sweet.

#contemplativepancakes #deancasbenny fanfic #destiny fanfic #and now back to our regularly scheduled fluff #i had so much fun writing this :)#also it is an apology for the one from earlier lmao #jealous!dean because he isn't paying enough attention #mine.fic #deancasbenny

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thebookwormfairy · 5 years

Text

Captain The Retired Police Dog Part 6 (Final)

BookwormFairy: Sorry for taking so long, but I'm here with the final part of Captain the Retired Police Dog. I just wanted to thank everyone who've read, like, reblogged, commented, and wrote their own stuff with Captain. When I first started this I had no idea how big ot would get. I will be doing more stuff with Captain, but this is the end of this story. Thank y'all so much for accepting both me and Captain into the fandom.

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

The rest of the trip was like a dream for Marinette

Every chance they got Marinette and Damian would spend time with eachother

And after Ace met Captain she would come along on all of their outings as well

Damian would take Marinette every where in Gotham

From the fashion district to the zoo Damian made sure Marinette didn't miss out on anything

They couldn't explain it, but something just clicked with them

It was like they were meant to be

Damian even met Marinette's parents

Kinda

He video chatted with them and was actually invited over during the summer

Which he whole heartedly accepted but warned the bakers that his family might "unexpectedly" show up with him.

Only to be told that they would be more then happy to meet them as well

Basically Damian took up all of Marinette's free time

Though sometimes, much to Damian's annoyance, the other batboys would come and "kidnap" Marinette and Captain and take them back to the manor.

Marinette didn't mind it so much, except when they didn't even wait for her to get back to the hotel

When the class was done touring Luxcorp, Jason rode up on his motorcycle and took Marinette and Captain

Jason picking up Marinette and grabbing Captain's leash: Hey French people I'm taking her and her dog. Bye

Ms. Bustier: Are you okay with that Marinette?

Marinette: Yeah I know him

Ms. Bustier: Okay have fun

Jason was less then impressed with the teacher's response but took the duo anyway

Another time Tim hacked into the schedule and change the bus route to drop Marinette off at Wayne Tower

Then Dick feeling left out did the responsible (and legal) way and called Marinette's parents to get their permission to take Marinette back to the manor.

Damian was not impressed with his brothers

Neither was Bruce

On the outside at least

On the inside he was so happy to see Marinette and Captain again

Captain wasn't sure how to respond to these strange new people in his and his girl's lives

After a couple of days they did grow on him

But he still didn't let Jason pet him

Mostly because Captain found the older boy's attempts hilarious

And his girl seemed to blossom in this new pack

Captain could see that the spark that he brought back into his girl's eye turn into a whole galaxy

She was almost always smiling and laughing now

To top it all off Alix and Kim finally pulled up their big kid briches and tried to reconnect with Marinette

At first Marinette was very weary of them

And Captain out right growled at them

But slowly they were able to earn Marinette's trust back

Not enough to be able to come on Marinette's adventures with her, but enough so that Marinette would seek them out when stuck with the class

And they would seek her out

Not even Lila could bring her down

And she tried

On this trip alone Lila has stolen several of Marinette's projects, tried to get her sent home with no success, has tried to get Captain detained, and has even tried to lock Marinette in several closets throughout the city, but Marinette somehow always got out.

All in all Lila was harmless

Until the last night of the trip when Lila went too far

Damian had tagged along with the class on their finally outing in Gotham

They went to a teens club somewhere near crime alley

Which is why Damian was with them

They made sure to leave the dogs with Alfred so he could take them back to the manor.

The night was going great

Marinette spent the night dancing with Damian, Alix, and Kim

But mostly Damian

Everything was perfect

So of course Lila had to open her big fat mouth

Lila: Oh yeah I've helped super heroes all over the world. I've even helped Batman put away a few rogues.

Villian kid (Edwin) near by: Oh really who?

Lila: You know all the big guys the Riddler, the Penguin, Two-Face,

Edwin: Hm, the Riddler.....

Lila: Yeah he's not so tough.

Lila continue to bad mouth the Riddler as Edwin called his dad to tell him all about this little, french goody goody who helped but him in Jail.

Riddler over the phone: What an interesting development, I wonder if she would like to play a game? *evil laugh*

Marinette slow dancing with Damian: This has been a great night

Damian: I have to agree with you there Angel. *Damian nuzzles Marinette's hair* I don't know what I'm going to do when you leave.

Marinette: I don't either, but I know I never want this to end.

Damian: Even with my annoying brothers

Marinette: Partially because of your annoying brothers. You know I'm an only child, but I always wished I had siblings, so they're like the brothers I never had.

Damian chuckling: don't let them hear you say that. You'll never get rid of them.

Marinette: Who said I would want to. Especially with how close Captain, Ace, and Titus has become. We'll have to fly out to eachother just so they can see eachother again.

Damian smirking: oh most definitely we be terrible pet owners if we didn't

Marinette catching on: You are so right. You'll be coming to Paris during the summer so I guess I'll be coming back to Gotham during the winter.

Damian pulling Marinette closer even though it didn't seem possible: That's not soon enough.

Alix: Hey love birds you do realize that the slow song ended 2 songs ago right?

Damian glared at the pink hair girl as Marinette backed up slightly blushing

Kim: I don't think they did Alix. How cute?

Damian: Yeah yeah let's go get something to drink.

As the small group made their way towards the bar

But before they could reach it chaos erupted in the club

Teenagers were running towards the exit trying to get away from something the group couldn't see

Somehow in the made dash out Marinette was separated from Alix, Kim, and Damian as they got pushed out of the club, but Marinette was pushed further in the club and gets corralled by a group of minions dressed in green

She scanned around the group of teens that were left seeing that all her classmates made it out except for Lila who was standing in the front of the group, but was trying to get behind the frightened teens

Marinette ended up standing next to her facing on of the famous rogues of Gotham the Riddler

Riddler: Hello kitties so sorry to interrupt your night out, but I heard one of you tattletells are the reason I was thrown back in that hellhole we call a prison so I'll give the little pest a chance to step up and we'll play a little game if they win you will all be let go and the pest will die, if they lose, well you all die. Either way that person dies so come on speak up or should I just kill everybody right now.

Lila without a second thought: It was her Marinette!

Marinette: What?!?!

Lila: Yeah it is all her she was the one who was bad mouthing you.

Marinette whispering to Lila: I knew you were mean Lila, but this is just pure evil

Lila smirking at Marinette: Why so shocked Dupen-Cheng? I know you, you wouldn't put innocent lives in danger so there's no way you'll deny it and this way I can get rid of you for good.

Marinette continued to glare at the evil girl as she was pulled up towards the Riddler

Riddler: Well aren't you a little cutie. Is what the loud mouth said true are you to person who helped put me in jail?

Marinette through clenched teeth: Yes

Riddler: Well here's the game goody goody I'm going to tell you a riddle and if you answer correctly we're going to play a game of Russian rullet *Riddler holds up an old revolver* you might get killed, you might not, but if you get on wrong then you get shot with this *Riddler holds up a newer hand gun* instant death. Are you ready?

Marinette trying to hide her fear: Yes

Riddler: Oh what a brave little girl. What is full of holes. But still holds water?

Marinette a little surprised by how easy the riddle was: A spongue

Riddler holding the old gun to Marinette's forehead: Correct

Riddler pulls the trigger as Marinette flinches but only a click is heard

Riddler: Well you live for another riddle. What can you break without picking it up or touching it?

Marinette: A promise

Riddler : Correct again

Riddler repeated the process and got the same result

This process continued for another 10 minutes and both Marinette and the Riddler were starting to get annoyed

Marinette because the riddles were to easy and Riddler because she wasn't dead yet

It should be impossible for her to be still alive

The gun did not have this many rounds

Riddler growling: Okay, Jim and Kate go to the zoo and get eaten by the sea lions but nobody freaks out, why?

Marinette rolling her eyes: Now you just stealing riddles from TheOdd1sout. They're both fish.

As Marinette answers she hears a loud crashing sound

Riddler and his goons look up at the noice and Marinette takes the opportunity to escape

She swiftly pulls Riddler's belt off him causing his pants to fall

She then uses the belt to knock both the guns out of his hands the wrapping the belt around of one of his hands flips over his shoulder grabs his other arm and tie them behind his back using the belt

To add insult to injury she kicks him in the back of his knees bringing him completely down

As Marinette looks up she sees the goons being tied up by Batman and his sidekicks all with shocked looks on their faces

In fact everybody was completely shocked by what Marinette just did

Though unnoticed by her Robin's shocked faced soon turned into a lovesick smile

That's his girl

Batman walking up to Marinette: Good job civilian, we'll take it from here, there are some people waiting outside for you.

Marinette: Thank you Batman

Marinette and the rest of the captured teenagers ran out of the club as soon as possible

They were so busy trying to get away from the trauma they just experienced nobody notice Robin slipping away trying to meet his Angel up front

As Marinette made it out she was bombarded by police officers and camera flashes from reporters

Gordan: Okay boys break it up I'll take this one

Gordon wrapped his arm around the young girl who reminded him of his daughter

Gordon: I know you've been through a lot tonight but can you please tell me what happened?

Marinette nodded her head going over everything that happened including what Lila said to her

Gordon was shocked by what Marinette told him both about how she took down the Riddler and how Lila basically tried to kill her

Gordon: Okay thank you, you go over to your friends while me and my officers gather more information.

Gordon pointed her towards Alix and Kim

As she runs towards her friends she was engulfed in a group hug

Marinette pulling back from the hug: Are you guys okay? You're not hurt are you? Where's Damian? Is he okay?

Kim chuckling: Classic Marinette worrying about others instead of her self

Alix: We're fine Marinette. We got out pretty quickly but we got separated from Damian in the mad rush

Marinette got a worried look on her face as she started twisting around searching for the man she loved

Damian bursting through the crowd: ANGEL!

Marinette running towards Damian: DAMI!

The young lovers ran to eachother embracing eachother in a long hug

Marinette buried her head in his chest letting out a sob as everything caught up with her.

Damian burying his face in her hair: Shh Angel everything's okay now. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there for you. I should have never let go of you

Marinette sniffling into Damian's chest: It's not your fault Damian you had no control of our separation

Damian: I still should have tried harder to stay with you.

The two stayed together refusing to let eachother go afraid that if they did so the other would be lost

They stood there for 30 minutes just hugging eachother as Kim and Alix joined them trying to cheer Marinette up

Gordon walking up to the small group: Several other people collaborated with your story. Ms. Rossi will be takened to the French embassy to be held until your classes flight back to Paris tomorrow we just need to know if you want to press charges?

Damian angry: Of course she'll want to press charges! That girl tried to have her killed!

Marinette softly: I'll handle this Damian. *Marinette turns around to face Comissioner Gordon with Damian's arms still wrapped around her* I would like to press charges Mr. Gordon this has gone on too long, I would also like to look into getting a restraining order on her.

Gordon: of course, we'll make sure that Paris police force understand what happened and your request.

Marinette: Thank you

Ms. Bustier yelling: Okay everybody time to head back to the hotel.

Gordon: Wait one moment Miss but Ms. Rossi is going to be retained at the French embassy for attempted manslaughter of Ms. Dupen-Cheng

Alya: What? Is that what Marinette told you? You shouldn't listen to her she's nothing but a liar.

Gordon: Actually we're doing that not only on Ms. Dupen-Cheng's testimony of events but several other witnesses who heard and saw Ms. Rossi threaten and admit she was trying to get Marinette killed and we also have video from the security cameras showing the same thing. Boys take her away!

Lila most certainly did not go quietly she was yelling all the way to the police cruiser threatening that as soon as she was back in Paris she will be Akumatize and finish the job that Riddler couldn't

Marinette watched terrified as Lila was taken away knowing very well that she would keep her promise if given the chance

Damian tightened his hold on Marinette trying to comfort her: Dont worry Angel I won't let her do anything to you

Marinette pressed herself to Damian trying to get as much comfort from him as possible.

Ms. Bustier grabbing Marinette's arm: Come on Marinette it's time to go.

Marinette looked over at her classmates seeing the murderous glares directed towards her from some of Lila's more dedicated followers

Marinette: I don't want to go back to the hotel Ms. Bustier

Ms. Bustier sighing: Please don't be difficult Marinette. You've already caused enough trouble tonight just get on the bus before you ruin the night for everybody else

Damian: EXCUSE ME! ARE YOU-

Marinette: I'VE CAUSED ENOUGH PROBLEMS?!?!? ALL I'VE BEEN TRYING TO DO IS NOT CAUSE PROBLEMS!! AND IT'S NEVER ENOUGH! WELL I'M TIRED OF BEING YOUR PERFECT EXAMPLE! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH PRESSURE THAT PUTS ON MY SHOULDERS! IT'S YOUR JOB TO TEACH YOUR STUDENTS TO BE BETTER PEOPLE NOT MINE! AS SOON AS WE'RE BACK IN PARIS I'M DONE! I'M TRANSFERING FROM YOU CLASS HELL I'M GOING TO TRANSFER TO A DIFFERENT SCHOOL IF I CAN BECAUSE I AM SO DONE! I'M DONE WITH THE BULLYING, I'M DONE WITH THE PRESSURE, AND MOST OF ALL I'M DONE WITH YOUR PACIFIST BULLSHIT!

Marinette was huffing from her outburst finally letting everything out after such a long time.

Marinette could her some clapping throughout the crowd but ignored it turning her attention to Damian.

Marinette: Do you mind if I stay at the Manor tonight?

Damian: Of course Marinette let me call Alfred to come get us and I'll escort you to your hotel room so you can gather your stuff

Marinette: Thank you

After a couple of minutes not only did Alfred show up, but so does Tim, Jason, and Dick

All ready to to kick ass and take names of anybody who even dare look at her the wrong way.

When they got to the hotel they surrounded her like a wall blocking her from reporters and classmates

Marinette gathered her stuff as fast as she could thanking herself for being smart and packing ahead of time

Once they got back to the Manor Captain tackled Marinette

Licking and cuddling into her trying to comfort his girl

He couldn't believe he let her be put in so much danger

He should have never let her out of his sight while is such a dangerous city

Captain let out a whimper trying to convey how sorry he was

Marinette: It's okay Captain I'm fine, I'm safe and everything is going to be fine better than before even.

Captain still stayed close to her side

Titus and Ace did also sensing the distress rolling of the girl followed her

As Marinette slipped into the bathroom she was finally able to comfort and thank Tikki for saving her life by using her power to make sure the bullet never got shot

And also promised to slip some cookies to her as soon as she could

After getting a good hug from each of the Wayne's and Marinette grabbing some cookies for Tikki she made her way to her guest room just wanting this night to be over.

When the Batfam was sure Marinette was in for the night they made their way down to the batcave to discuss what happened

Damian: Father if you think I'm going to let Marinette out of my sight after what happened tonight you're crazy

Bruce: Think this through Damian smothering isn't going to make her any safer it's just going to make her resent you.

Jason: I dont like it anymore than you do Demon Spawn but he's right. You can't hover over Marinette her whole life, but we do need to look into what's going on in Paris more.

Dick: You're right Jason, Rossi was saying something about being Akumatized and killing Marinette that can't be good.

Bruce: Your right Dick. So when Damian goes to Paris in a couple of weeks we'll come along and assess the situation and see if we need to step in

Damian: If Marinette gets even a scratch on her I'm going to do more than just step in I'm going to find whoever responsible and dual them to the pain

Tim: Did you just quote Princess Bride

Damian: I watched it with Marinette a couple of days ago

The rest of the batfam: Awwww

Dick, Jason, and Tim giving Brice a weird look

Bruce: Don't judge me

Marinette tried her best to fall asleep that night cuddling up to Captain but she jus couldn't

When the clock showed it was 1am Marinette decided to seek out Damian

Marinette: Captain? *perked up and looked at his girl* Can you please help me find Damian?

Captain jumped off the bed and headed to the door

Before Marinette opened the door she turned towards Tikki

Marinette: Tikki I'm going to go see if I can sleep with Damian do you want to come with or stay here?

Tikki: I'll stay here Marinette. I don't want you stressing about keeping me hidden tonight

Marinette: Okay Tikki good night.

Marinette followed Captain down a couple of doors before they stopped in front of the door

Marinette knocked on the door and after a couple of minutes Damian opened the door looking a little ruffled from sleep

Marinette: Sorry to wake you Damian, but can I please sleep with you tonight

Damian: Of course Angel come on

Damian and Marinette settled into Damian's bed seeming to fit together perfectly as Marinette rested her head on Damian's chest and he wraps his arms around her keeping her close

Captain made himself comfortable next to Titus but also lays across the young couple's legs

The next day Lila was sent on a later flight back the Fance to a town outside of Paris so that she wouldn't be akumatized by Hawkmoth and she can face the consequences of her crimes

Marinette shared a long goodbye with the Wayne's in the airport

They were nice enough to upgrade Marinette's seat to first class and even got Captain a seat so he didn't have to stay in the cargo hold

And as Marinette said her goodbyes to the people who've became her second (or third is you count Jagged, Penny, and Clara) family Captain was saying goodbye to Titus and Ace

Captain: I'm going to miss you guys so much you have become my pack and I wish I could take you with me

Titus: And I wish you could stay, I love you

Titus gave Captain a big lick to the side of his face

Captain: Thanks Titus, I... love you too

Titus: I'm going to cry

Ace giggling: Thanks for that Titus

Ace nuzzling Captain's neck: I love you Captain I wish we can stay together.

Captain nuzzling her back: I wish I could to your my mate and I hate to be away from you for so long, but my girl needs me, but I heard our humans talking and they do plan to visit eachother again so we will be together again. One day permanently I can tell.

As the girl and her dog boarded the plane they may be leaving their loves behind today but it won't be forever

Thanks to this trip Marinette is a stronger person, and Captain learned to be a little softer

As Kim pass he tried to give Captain a pat on the head only for Captain to give him a little growl before he could

Like I said he learned to be a LITTLE softer

Bonus

2 weeks after returning from Paris Marinette recieved a very interesting call from Damian

Damian: Hey Angel weird question but is Captain fixed

Marinette: Oh no, after everything that happened to him it just seemed cruel to do that to him too. Why?

Damian: Because Ace is pregnant Captain is the only one who could be the father

Marinette shocked: What?

Marinette looking at Captain: You little hound dog.

Captain: What?

@felicityroth @northernbluetongue @mystery-5-5 @sidefrienda @tbehartoo @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @sonif50 @t-nikki10 @dawnwave16

#captain the Retired police dog #Captain the Retired Police Dog #maribat #daminette #Damain x Marinette #pet headcanon

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lulu2992 · 4 years

Text

What I learned listening to Far Cry 5′s audio files

The game’s lore, as told by its characters.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Sheriff Earl Whitehorse

Biography

Whitehorse originally came to Fall’s End for the fishing. He says that, when he ran for Sheriff, the other candidates were “pencil pushers” and “delegators” who thought being a Sheriff was a tranquil job. According to him, it indeed is and he wasn’t really enjoying it… until now. He was one day away from retirement because he was getting bored when Eden’s Gate put the county on lockdown. When his gun was in his hand before, it was because he was cleaning it and he had never shot anyone in his whole carrier. On a usual night shift, the only problems he had to deal with were bears and drunk people. Now, he says he uses his gun to do what he signed up to do: to serve and protect.

After the helicopter crashed, he remembers walking in a misty field with other people he wanted to talk to but couldn’t. He could hear and see Faith but doesn’t know if she was really there. The Cougars found him and helped him. In return, he taught them how to defend themselves.

Comments about other characters

He admits he wasn’t sure about the Deputy at first but says he is now. He jokes that, in a way, Eden’s Gate helped them getting to know each other. With 10 people like the Deputy, he thinks the fight would already be over. He also says he hopes they weren’t planning on raising a family on this job because the pay is bad.

He had a dog like Boomer once. It was a good dog.

He says Adelaide has the means to wage a “one-woman war” on Eden’s Gate.

He describes Dutch as a “prepper’s prepper”. They used to fight a lot before but, now, he admits he doesn’t know what they would do without him. Whitehorse thought Dutch would have joined Eden’s Gate, since he too was prepping for the end of the world, but he figured them out before anyone else. According to him, people who want to land on his good side just need to say, “states’ rights”. When this is all over, they will probably go back to fighting.

He explains Tracey and Rachel (now Faith) used to be part of a free-spirit movement but fell out of favor with their kind when they fell into harder drugs. Tracey initially saw a new home in Eden’s Gate and Rachel “got wrapped up in how the Father made her feel”. He thinks Tracey feels responsible for what happened to her former friend. At the jail, she is a worker and helps a lot.

Whitehorse says Virgil’s heart is in the right place. He also explains his son, Ethan, overdosed on the Bliss.

Eden’s Gate has them outgunned, he says. A cult member told him they had five years’ worth of food stored. He thinks they are “maniacs” who won’t surrender, won’t quit, and can’t be reasoned with.

Even though Whitehorse describes Faith as “a kid with a weak soul and a longing for acceptance”, he thinks she is the most dangerous of the Seed family and that everything she says is a lie. He says people shouldn’t underestimate her. He did and it was a big mistake. She seems to be the only person immune to the Bliss but he also comments that, without it, she is nothing.

Other characters’ point of view

Charles likes and trusts him.

Dutch says the two of them “go way back” and that he thought he was “the biggest asshole” he would have to deal with until he met Joseph.

According to Kim, he made a report about what Eden’s Gate was doing, back when they were still just stockpiling. He told everyone, from the state to the FBI, and nobody did anything.

Tracey explains there was a lot of backstabbing and no real leader among the Cougars before he arrived at the jail.

Virgil says he is “a godsend”, a leader, and an admirable man whom people look up to.

One NPC comments Whitehorse seems to think of himself as the Deputy’s dad.

Faith says he is a “wall” between the Deputy and Joseph, preventing them from seeing the Project’s truth. As such, she thinks it’s necessary for him to be “[knocked] down”.

#far cry 5 #earl whitehorse #sheriff whitehorse #far cry 5 spoilers

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thecasperanfamily · 3 years

Note

Angsty fic with Lin finding out about Douxie’s sad childhood?

If there was ever a place where Hisirdoux Casperan didn’t belong, it was in a kitchen. Especially if he was left there unsupervised. Which was why, when Lin found him there, his first question was:

“Where’s Mom?”

“Well good morning to you too,” Douxie replied, looking up from his phone to reveal a streak of flour across his face. “She had to cover the morning shift at HexTech today, remember?” He looked back at his phone for a moment, then glanced over at a bowl on the counter. Lin was too small to be able to see the contents of said bowl from his current position, but he was reasonably certain they were as far from edible as one could possibly get.

“...Archie?” he inquired hopefully.

“Out bird-watching with your Aunt Nari. It’s a bit strange...” Douxie hummed as he grabbed a spoon and began stirring whatever was in the bowl. It made a squishing sound similar to that of a fish being gutted. “...Archie never had much interest in bird-watching before. Well, not the kind of bird-watching Nari does, anyways. But he really wanted to go with her this morning. Didn’t even seem to want any breakfast first.”

“...Is that what you’re making now?”

“Yep,” Douxie replied, popping the P cheerfully. He let go of the spoon to check the recipe on his phone. It remained standing straight in the center of the bowl.

“...I think I know why Archie wanted to bird-watch this morning,” Lin said bluntly, beginning to hunt for a step-stool of some kind so that he could reach the cereal in the cabinet.

“Very funny, Lin,” Douxie huffed, trying to wrestle the spoon out of the bowl. “I’ll have you know, while I may not be a culinary genius like your mother, I am--” his words began to mix with a few grunts of effort as he battled with the stubborn cooking utensil “--perfectly capable--of--following a--simple--RECIPE!” The spoon popped out with a squelch like that of a toilet plunger. “Ha! Got it!”

“How come you never learned to cook like Mom?” Lin asked, easing himself down from a chair with a box of cereal under his arm.

“Oh, I don’t know,” his father returned with a shrug. “Nobody really bothered to teach me, I suppose.”

“Who taught Mom?”

“Well, her mother, I think. And she picked up a lot of things on her own over the years.”

“Why didn’t your mom teach you?” There was a beat of silence. Lin pulled his head out of the refrigerator, where he had been searching for the milk. His father’s hands had gone still for a moment, and his aura was giving off a faint charge that Lin didn’t recognize. “...Dad?”

“My mother died when I was very young, Lin,” Douxie answered, his aura returning to normal as he resumed his task. “Not much older than you, actually. She didn’t have much time to teach me.” There was a resounding thud as Lin dropped the milk jug on the linoleum floor. Douxie looked over his shoulder to see him standing stock-still, green eyes wide and horrified as they stared at him in disbelief. His inhibitor cuff was humming loudly, a sure sign that the child was quite distressed.

“...Y-your mom died when you were my age?” he squeaked, and Douxie cursed himself for his thoughtless choice of words. He dropped the sugar and the measuring cup he had been holding and crossed the kitchen in two long strides.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, Lin. I’m alright,” he soothed, kneeling down and putting his hands on Lin’s shoulders. “And I promise, nothing is going to happen to your mum, okay?”

“B-but what happened to yours?” the child demanded, small hands coming up to grip Douxie’s arms. Of all the days for Zoe to take the early shift, he thought glumly. Of course it’s the one where I say something that traumatizes our son.

“It....It was a very long time ago, Lin.” he explained carefully. “More than nine-hundred years, now. I don’t really remember much from back then. I just know that Archie found me not long after she passed, and that I was about seven or eight years old. Beyond that...” He let out a short sigh and shook his head. “...it’s just a blur now. When you’ve lived for as long as Mum and I have, some memories get muddled, and some of them vanish altogether. They have to, or else there wouldn’t be any more room for new ones.” This answer didn’t seem to help anything. On the contrary, Lin was now on the verge of tears. “Oh, Lin,” Douxie breathed, pulling him close. “I’m sorry, buddy, I didn’t mean to upset you. Your mum isn’t going anywhere, I swear, and neither am I. Things are different now, not just for magic-users, but for everyone. The world’s much safer than it used to be, and--”

“B-but you d-didn’t have a m-mom,” Lin sobbed into his shirt. “Y-you didn’t...” Douxie’s heart twisted sharply. Of all the things for Lin to be upset about, his father’s past should never have been one of them.

“I’m alright, Lin, really.” Douxie brought a hand up to stroke his hair gently. “...Maybe I didn’t have everything I wanted in my childhood. But I still made it. I have you, and your mum, and Archie, and Aunt Nari, and everyone else. I’m happy now. You can’t outrun sorrow....but you can outlast it. And Lin...” He drew back enough to look into the boy’s eyes. “Even if I could go back and change my past, I wouldn’t want to. Not if it meant I’d never get to where I am now. Not if it meant I had to give up you and everyone else I love in the present. Got it?”

“...No,” Lin sniffled.

“Maybe when you’re older then,” Douxie chuckled. “For now, just know that I’ve never been happier than I am now, and I wouldn’t want to change a thing. Does that work?”

“...Okay.”

“Good.” Douxie pressed a kiss to his forehead and stood back up, turning to face his culinary project once again.

“Dad?”

“Hm?” He looked back at his son, who had picked up the milk carton and was looking down at it thoughtfully.

“I wouldn’t give you up either,” he said, large eyes flicking up to meet Douxie’s for a second. The wizard felt his heart give a familiar jerk, a warm pulse that flooded him with love and gratitude.

“Thanks, buddy,” he replied softly.

“...But if I could change something,” the child continued, pouring the milk into his bowl of cereal. “I’d like it better if you could cook.”

“Wha--hey!”

Thanks so much for reading! ✨

#tales of arcadia #toa #the casperan family #douxie #lin casperan #niki answers #ficlet #how do you write children help

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sunflowerhae · 4 years

Note

Fratboy lucas😳👀 yes 🅱️lease oml

AN•I made it a bit angsty, a bit fluffy👼🏻☁️ also this is long ahha, Ik it’s not like, FRATBOY fratboy, but I actually quite like it! lemme know what u think! Also this means I get to make a wayv masterlist eye-

This party was sweltering hot and you were not having a good time. First off, your dorm mate -Elise- left you almost immediately to go talk to a boy from this frat named Johnny, and second, you knew literally nobody else here, as far as you could see.

It wasn’t your fault, though. I mean, sure, you barely left your room unless it was to go to the canteen, your classes, the library, or to the silent films they showed at the theatre every Friday night, along with your two friends Mark and Renjun (who were both from this very frat, yet you couldn’t find either). And yeah, maybe you didn’t talk to people unless you were apologizing for bumping into them, or texting them about a group project. And okay yes, it took Elise two weeks to hear more than three words out of your mouth at a time.

But, honestly, it wasn’t your fault.

You got into this school on a scholarship, and you’d be dammed if you lost it because you stopped focusing on your grades. Elise had to beg -and bribe- you to come to this NCT frat party with her, yet she leaves you five minutes in.

Fuck this, I’m going home. You thought to yourself as you hastily made your way to the door. You had texted your two friends to see where they were, yet neither answered; or even read them, for that matter. As you rounded into the hallway leading to the door, you halted with wide eyes. This seemed like an episode of wipeout to you. The floor was covered in an unknown, slippery substance, and the hallway definitely had way too many people in it for it to NOT be a health code violation. You tried mapping out the cleanest and fastest way to the door, but came up short - besides one.

Okay, you technically lied when you said you didn’t talk to anyone for fun.

Because how could you not talk to Wong Lucas when he was the most beautiful person you’ve ever met?

You remember the day you two met like it was yesterday, and not your freshman year, almost two years ago.

It was almost 12 am, and the library would be closing any second. You boringly walked up and down the aisles, dangling your workers card lanyard to the rhythm of your footsteps. You hated working the night shift at the library, but were just thankful that you had gotten a job right off then bat, anyway, so you barely complained (key word: barely).

The bookshelf hallways were - as usual for this time - empty. As you almost always did (because you were lazy), when you got to the very last shelf, you didn’t even bother to check it, just doing a small turn and continuing the way you came - until you heard the familiar sound of what sounded like a book falling on the floor. Working in a library, you were used to the sound of books being dropped on accident; so much to the point that you didn’t even flinch anymore. But this time, you were quite scared. You considered taking the trek up to the front desk where your much larger coworker, Jaehyun, would have been able to check whatever the sound was. However, you didn’t want to seem helpless, you’re an adult, for Pete’s sake.

So you took the closest weapon you saw - a book on the shelf next to you - and slowly walked where you heard the sound. Rounding the bookshelf, you expected to see a scary, old man with a black trench-coat and a hook hand (in a college library, sure).

What you saw, instead, was a TALL boy with honey colored hair and a purple hoodie standing against the bookshelf with his eyes closed and his head rested against the shelf. A deep sigh suddenly came from him, and when he opened his eyes and moved to reach and grab the book that he undoubtedly dropped, he almost yelled at your sheepish figure and wide eyes staring at him, near the corner.

With his eyes opened, and his head rested normal on his shoulders, you could get a good look at him, and saw that you knew exactly who he was. Wong Lucas; on the football team, if you’re not mistaken. A new member of the NCT frat, along with your new friend Renjun from your physics class, and his best friend, Mark. Extremely popular, especially for a freshman. You were for sure intimidated by him now; not because he was a bigger human than you, but because he was looking at you with a gaze of anger.

Wait what did I do?

“Listen, can you all stop? I just want to study, and I already have to come in at late times to be alone. There’s 100s of boys on this campus, leave me alone, please.” You didn’t really know what to say, but you were definitely annoyed, and also humored.

He really thought you were one of his stalkers.

“Um. I work here. Just coming by to say we’re closing in 5 minutes. If you could get what you needed and come check out, or get it tomorrow. Thank you!” You walked away, but you didn’t miss the rose color that slowly painted his face.

He came up to the register not even three minutes later, a poetry book called “The Worlds Wife” slipped between his fingers, a book you actually had your own copy of. You said nothing while checking him out, just smiled at him while handing the book to him. You expected him to leave right after, but he scratched his neck while staring at his feet, apologizing for what he said and asking if you wanted to stop by the 7-11, or have him walk you home - the rose color on his cheeks still prominent.

Your new roommates words repeated in your ears -“you need to get out”- like a mantra as you uncharacteristically accepted his offer (Jaehyun - who was standing to the side, finishing up closing the computer system - was so shocked he had his mouth open like a fish).

You agreed to get slushies from your local 7-11, and you both sat on the curb, laughing about anything and everything for what seemed like hours - and it was. You were pleasantly surprised to see that he was actually such a good person, with kind values and hilarious jokes. He walked you to your dorm, and kissed your cheek as a goodnight, after getting your number, and watched you walk into your dorm before leaving himself.

After that moment, it was midnight date adventures and movie nights (that usually turned into more), for the next year. He had asked you to be his girlfriend two dates after that first night, and kissed you two after that one. You loved him, and wanted to show everyone; wanted to hold his hand while walking across campus, go on coffee dates between classes, and tell everyone that Wong Lucas was yours.

Lucas did not.

He loved you, and did want to do those things with you, but he said it was because of who he was. He had girls asking him out 24/7, and they were easily jealous. If they caught wind that you two were dating, he feared that they would rip you to shreds. You loved that he cared for you, that he wanted to protect you, but it hurt that he kept you hidden from the people in his life. I mean, not even Renjun or Mark - who were in his frat - knew you two had been dating for a year.

When you had told him you were going to his frats party, he was immediately turned off to the idea. He didn’t want to worry about you, because he wouldn’t be able to be around you. You were so mad, so fed up, that it resulted in probably the worst fight of your relationship.

“Why?” You didn’t want to yell. You didn’t want your RA to come knocking and see Lucas, because god forbid anyone know you two even knew each other.

“You know why, y/n! No one knows we’re together!” You can tell he didn’t want to yell, either - most likely for the same reason. That assumption from you just made your blood boil even more.

“Yeah, why! Why can’t we tell anyone, xuxi? We’re almost juniors in college! We’re not kids anymore, this secret dating thing is bullshit!”

“Because I don’t want you getting hurt, y/n!”

“No, just admit what it’s really about. Admit that you don’t want to be seen with me, a nerd, a loser-“

“Yeah! Is that what you want to hear, y/n? Yes, it’s because you’re a loser, you’re lame, you only have two friends and don’t talk to anyone else. Why must I always be the social one? Why can’t you just go socialize with people, huh? Why couldn’t I have a girlfriend cooler than you, better, more like me?! Yes, I’m embarrassed by you! you satisfied, y/n?” He just about yelled, and you were waiting for the pounding from your RA, or a grouchy neighbor, that never came.

Lucas didn’t say anything, just stared at the ground. When you let out a mumbled, “you should go,” he didn’t hesitate to push past you and slam your door in his way out, making you flinch.

You feared you two might break up from this one, and it seemed he felt the same as he pulled the girl leaning on him - from his spot on the wall - closer, and whispered something in her ear that made her laugh.

He had a beer in his one hand, so you knew he was most likely drunk.

And you were right, he was drunk. By the time he got back to his frat house, he had finally calmed down enough from your fight to rationally think about it, and he immediately wanted to run to his car and drive straight back to you. He felt terrible for saying the things he did amidst his anger. Yet, when he was about to leave, he was roped into the party prep committee, and couldn’t leave. I mean, what could he say?

My girlfriend needs me? No, they wouldn’t believe he has a girlfriend - he didn’t come off as the type, and they would assume he just didn’t want to help. He should have told them, like you wanted so long ago.

So when he hadn’t been given an opportunity to text or call you, he figured that it might be for the best, and you needed time to cool off. And he definitely needed a drink after the lecture he got by his fellow brothers about how he never gets laid at parties, and nows’ the moment. When he was drunkenly shoved into the arms of Soojin - a member of a sorority on campus, and the girl who goes around constantly claiming that she will one day have Lucas (you hated her, she did not know you existed) - he just accepted it, because maybe it would get his brothers off his back, maybe it would get soojin off his back, and it’s not like you’d know. You weren’t there, right? You wouldn’t have come after that fight, right?

Wrong.

Wrong, definitely wrong. Wrong when he looked up from his gaze on Soojin, because he had smelt your delicious and amazing perfume that he loved so much. Wrong when he locked eyes with your own teary ones, trying to scoot past their bodies morphed together, while mumbling an almost incoherent “excuse me” that no one but someone looking would have seen. Wrong when you broke free from the tight space, and speed out of the house, and he didn’t even move, just stood there staring at your retreating figure while Soojin laughed about something that happened, not even knowing what just went down. Wrong when he never went after you, and never called or texted you for a week. Wrong, all wrong.

That week was hell for both you and Lucas.

No one new you too were even dating, so when Renjun and Mark came over because you hadn’t been answering their texts, only to find you burrito wrapped in a blanket with an absurd amount of mac-n-cheese, they assumed you failed a test or something and gave you WRONG words of encouragement (they tried). When Lucas was doing terribly at practice, and was acting completely out of it, nobody asked if he was having relationship troubles. They did ask if he was having girl problems, and when he was about to say yes, his teammates went into a ramble about how taxing a bad one night stand can be on a person. Lucas chose to stay quiet.

He felt like a wimp.

Was he really that much of a loser that he didn’t even try to get you back? Did he even deserve you at all?

However, one night - exactly a week later - Lucas grew a pair (fallopian tubes, of course. Men are whimps and women are TOUGH so from here on out when I say grow a pair, I mean grow a pair of Fallopian tubes) and mapped out the perfect plan to get you back.

Two days later, you were walking through the quad with your head down, on your way to the library, when you smelt a heavy aroma of flowers. When you looked up, you couldn’t believe what you saw.

The whole quad, almost every square inch, was filled with yellow and white daisies.

Yellow and white, your favorite colors. Daisies, your favorite flower.

When you looked around for some source, you locked eyes with a boy who was already looking right at you.

He was wearing a blue tux, and was standing in the center of the daisies with one single rose in his hand. When you slowly approached him and got close enough, he took your hand in his, gave you the rose to hold in your other.

“I know I’m just some lame frat boy. I know I’m a complete loser that thinks a good time is listening to trash music while getting drunk and high, and I don’t deserve someone as amazing as you. I mean, Look at you, and this is you on a regular day.” He was referring to what you were wearing. You had your hair softly curled, and was sporting a yellow, mid-thigh length dress with flowers on it and pure white vans with with yellow, banana socks. You thought you looked basic, but you had to agree that you fit in to the scenery. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said the things I did, and I shouldn’t have made you keep our relationship a secret. You’re a grown woman, and can handle yourself. I love you so much, and I don’t want to lose you. Please, forgive me.” After a few seconds of your silence, a familiar voice came from your left, and when you turned around, you saw a crowd of people had gathered, and Renjun and Mark stood at the front, with mark filming, and renjun shouting,

“KISS HIM!” You chuckled at your best friends words, and when you turned back to a hopeful looking Lucas, you wrapped your arms around his neck, and pulled him into a fairy tale kiss, standing in that daisy field.

The ending is out of character and weird, I know, but I was thinking of Bigfish when I wrote it 😳👉👈 anyway I hope you enjoyed it!👼🏻☁️

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letterboxd · 4 years

Photo

How I Letterboxd #10: Chad Hartigan.

Filmmaker Chad Hartigan talks to Jack Moulton about his prescient new sci-fi romance, Little Fish, why radio silence is worse than a bad review, and his secret system of Letterboxd lists.

Chad Hartigan has won prizes at the Sundance Film Festival and the Film Independent Spirit Awards for his acclaimed films This is Martin Donner and Morris From America. He’s also been a Letterboxd member since way back, joining what he proclaims as “my favorite website” in 2013. Hartigan has always been an obsessive logger: he has transcribed all of his viewing data since 1998 and continues to work on filling in the gaps in his downtime.

Like many ardent Letterboxd members, Hartigan is a diligent list-maker, keeping tabs on his best first viewings of each year and assembling an all-time top 1,000 films over the summer (with an accompanying 26-minute supercut). Perhaps unusually for a member of the film industry on Letterboxd, he’s unafraid to hold back his opinions and regularly voices his critiques on even the most acclaimed films.

Hartigan’s newest film, Little Fish, is a sci-fi love story starring Olivia Cooke (Sound of Metal) and Jack O’Connell (Unbroken). Written by Mattson Tomlin, it’s set during an imagined pandemic—shot long before our own actual pandemic—wherein a disease causes people to lose their memories. It was set to premiere at the 2020 Tribeca Film Festival, and then postponed due to Covid-19. It’s now out in limited theaters and on demand, and we were delighted with the excuse to put Hartigan in the How I Letterboxd spotlight.

Olivia Cooke as Emma and Jack O’Connell as Jude in ‘Little Fish’.

You made a pandemic movie before the pandemic. How do you feel about accidentally hitting that unfortunate zeitgeist and now consequently being asked questions like this one? Yeah, strange. The questions are fine. If it wasn’t this one, it would be another that you would have to answer over and over again. One of the things that drew me to the project was that it felt like a fantasy that wasn’t necessarily rooted in reality in a way that my other [films] were. I liked that it’s old-fashioned in its attempts to purely take you somewhere and wasn’t intended to hold up a mirror to our times—but then in the end that’s exactly what it’s doing. I’m curious myself, and I’m checking Letterboxd to see the reactions from people because I really couldn’t guess what it would have been like [now].

Are there any prescient details you’re proud of getting right? I’m so grateful and happy that Jack [O’Connell] is wearing his mask correctly. That’s the number one thing that I’m glad we got right. I think it was very smart of Mattson to focus the movie on [the relationship] rather than the details of this global pandemic. I feel the reason it’s not in bad taste is because it dealt with those things as a backdrop and instead focused on people just trying to remember what’s important and clinging onto those that they love.

Onto our own favorite memory aid, Letterboxd. How did you discover us and how did you manage without us? I’ve been on since 2013, so I’m probably one of the earliest people to jump on it. I love the interface and the diary, just aesthetically it was really fun. I’ve been keeping track of what I see with analog [methods] for as long as I can remember. I have diaries and planners so I logged all that old information. If I was running for president, my platform would be that everybody is required to use Letterboxd comprehensively, because I just love to know what everybody is watching all the time.

Do you talk about Letterboxd in the real world with the other filmmaking people? Yes, and I’m often trying to convince them to join. Other filmmakers are more concerned about having their opinions on peers be public knowledge than I am, I guess. I’ve made four films now and each one’s been bigger and more widely seen than the last. The very first one was a total no-budget affair that couldn’t get into any festivals and I was very excited when I finally got it into the Hamptons Film Festival. It was about half-full and one or two people came up to me afterwards and said they liked it. This was pre-Twitter so I spent the whole next day Googling to see if anybody had written anything. I was so curious to see what people thought and there was nothing—not a review, not a blog—just total emptiness.

When the next film got into Sundance, there were people tweeting their reactions and actual reviews and I read everything. People were asking if the bad reviews hurt me. Absolutely not—nothing can be worse than the radio silence of nobody caring about the first film. The fact that people care enough to sit and write about this movie—good or bad—is a win, and I’ve carried that onward. I like to see what people think, it can be helpful in how you view the film as a success or failure. You learn and move on.

Jack O’Connell at least remembers how to wear a mask in ‘Little Fish’.

Some filmmakers have told us they’re kinder to films after making their own, but you’re not shy at all about being critical. How did making your own films change your perspective as a critic? I don’t consider myself a critic so that’s why I’d be less concerned with someone reading what I thought. Why should they put any stock into what I think? If they get hung up on it then that’s their own stuff because I’m not a critic. Like everyone else on Letterboxd, I just love watching movies. Obviously I can appreciate and understand some of the technical aspects maybe moreso than people who don’t make films, but at the end of the day, rarely that’s the thing that makes you love a movie or not. There’s a great bit in Francis Ford Coppola’s commentary track for Finian’s Rainbow where Fred Astaire’s doing a dance number and [Coppola admits] he totally messed it up because Astaire’s feet aren’t fully in frame. He’s very honest about his mistakes because it’s one of his earliest movies. Then he goes on to say that he thinks there’s the same number of mistakes in Finian’s Rainbow as there are in The Godfather, it’s just that he made mistakes on the things that don’t matter for The Godfather. No film is perfect, but if it can latch onto this one magical aspect that connects you to it, that’s what makes you love it or not.

You had a project where you chart the best films made by directors at certain ages as you reached that age. Tell us more about it. That was a great project. I got the idea when I was 26. This was back when I had a Netflix DVD subscription and it was just hard for me to randomly choose DVDs to throw in the queue. I needed a system. I decided to watch movies from directors when they were my age and see if there’s some common denominator, something I can learn. At that point, there weren’t many, there were films like Boogie Nights and Fassbinder films. Not many people had made stuff when they were 26 or 27, so it was very feasible. Every year there were more movies and more directors to add to the list and it became time-consuming. I did it all the way up until I was 34 and the reason I stopped was because I had a son and there was no way I could continue this level of viewing output.

My favorite part of your account is the fact that you log every viewing of your own films. You know for a fact that you’ve watched Morris From America 26 times and Little Fish fifteen times. Why do you log them? What counts as a viewing? I’ve clearly watched those movies many more times in little chunks but I’ll only log it if we’re sitting down and watching it from beginning to end. I have a ticket to see Little Fish in the drive-in on Saturday, so it’s going to be logged again. Why do I do it? Like I said, I wish everyone was required to use Letterboxd comprehensively. That’s what it’s there for for me, an accurate log of what I watch. This is psychotic behavior but I’m tempted to have a Letterboxd account for my son. I’ll do his views for him once he starts watching movies until he’s old enough to take over. It’ll just be, like, Frozen a thousand times but he’s not old enough to watch anything yet, so we’ll see.

Have you discovered any films thanks to Letterboxd discourse that influenced your approach to filmmaking? For sure, I can’t maybe say specifically, but once I dropped the directors my own age system I didn’t replace it with nothing. I’m a Virgo and I have a little bit of OCD, so I have to have some system. I’ve replaced it with a new complicated system where I pull from different lists and that’s now my main source of how I choose a movie to watch. I have like ten or twelve different lists, each about a thousand movies with a lot of overlap. One of them is my own list of every movie I’ve seen in a theater and I’ll go and look through that and if it’s something I want to revisit. Recently I rewatched Twister, which I hadn’t seen in a long time and is an old favorite from when I was in high school.

I have a bunch of private lists I cycle through; every movie nominated for a Spirit Award, every movie that’s won an Oscar, every movie that’s played in competition at Cannes, the top 1,000 films at the box office. There’s another great website that I use as a biblical resource which is They Shoot Pictures, Don’t They? and their lists of acclaimed films for all-time and the 21st century. I hit those up often. Something that I watched purely because of the very high Letterboxd rating and really loved is Funeral Parade of Roses. I try to see as many movies as I can that have a 4.0 rating or higher.

You respect the Letterboxd consensus. I do, but I don’t always agree with it.

‘Little Fish’ director Chad Hartigan.

Which is your most underrated or overlooked movie according to Letterboxd? I can say I was the very first person to log a movie called Witness in the City, which is an Italian noir movie I watched when I was doing my ‘directors my own age’ series. Literally nobody had logged it, so my review was like “whoa, I can’t believe I’m the first person to log this!”. It was very exciting for me because it’s great, but I’m the OG logger of that movie.

From your list of every film you’ve seen in a theater since you were twelve, which was your most memorable experience? The cheap answer is that it’s hard to top my own movies. The Sundance premiere of Morris From America at the Eccles Theater is maybe the best, but if I’m disqualifying my own films, seeing Scream 3 in a very packed theater in Virginia Beach was really fun, really rowdy. There was a trailer for a Jean-Claude Van Damme movie and I remember the climax was Van Damme going “you lied to me!!!” and everyone laughed. Someone did a George Costanza move later during Scream 3 and yelled out “you lied to me!!!” and everybody laughed again—so that’s a high. That’s the thing I miss the most about movie theaters, and the worry I have if theaters go away, is that so much of how we feel about a movie can be tied to the experience; who we saw it with, what we did before or after, what the crowd was like, or if anything strange happened. There are a lot of movies I have strong memories and affection for because of the experience of seeing them and I probably wouldn’t feel the same way about if I just watched it at home on my laptop.

I typically like to cap interviews off with what filmmakers thought was the best film of the past year, but we have your data to hand. For you, it’s Garrett Bradley’s documentary Time. Can you talk a bit about what makes the film stand out for you? One thing I learned about myself from the pandemic is that the motivation and desire to see new things is very closely tied to the theater-going experience for me. Once that was taken away and you could watch a new movie at home, it joins the pile of all the other movies. The fact that it’s new doesn’t really do anything for me. Why would I press play on Da 5 Bloods when I still haven’t seen Malcolm X? I gotta see Malcolm X! There wasn’t an urgency, so I saw far fewer films than in an ordinary year. But Time I found incredibly moving and important. Similar to what I liked about the Little Fish script, it’s so hyper-focused on one relationship and within that one story it has so much to say about larger issues and the world at large. It was an emotional and rich viewing experience.

‘Little Fish’ is on demand and playing in select theaters now. Images courtesy of IFC Films.

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