#and trying to navigate the doubts / overthinking of all of this did me in.

[machidielontheway]

i'm rarely overwhelmed by everyday things but right now i'm overwhelmed and i Don't Like That

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

"Floral Affections" - Part 3

GN!Reader x Plant Monster

CW: nothing, it's just fluff <3.

Part 1 | Previous Part

~~~~

Snip after snip, your shears never failed as you finished trimming one of the rose bushes. The dead flowers and leaves you’d gathered crinkled together in their bucket as you carried it around, doing one last check around the garden.

After picking up a few stray twigs and ensuring you hadn’t missed anything else, you called it a day. Feelings of both relief and dread filled you. It was time to place the gift for Lord Sorrel somewhere, but you had yet to pick a spot. You needed to be certain that he’d see it, after all!

You had spent a great amount of time fretting over what plant to pick yesterday, your overthinking stretching well into the evening. It wasn’t until you were cutting fresh herbs for dinner that you finally realized the answer had been right under your nose all along.

Fennel – a flowering herb with many umbels of lively, yellow flowers. Its fine, and numerous leaves tickled anytime your skin brushed against them.

Looking back on it, you thought it ridiculous how you hadn’t chosen it sooner when the damn plant easily reached above your hip. It certainly wasn’t hiding from you!

But with your embarrassment at the needless worry aside, it was perfect. It would clearly speak of your flattery at the lord’s open interest in your person. You only hoped the clay pot you’d placed it in would be good enough, as you didn’t have anything quite as fancy as he did.

The pot was simple and bare, save for a golden ribbon you had tied around it. Normally, you would’ve cut the flowers and presented them in a bouquet, but your intuition whispered otherwise. And with your initials written on the pot’s inner side, there would be no doubt in Lord Sorrel’s mind of what you were doing.

But now, back in the present, your nerves were rising. Trying to keep your cool, you began gathering your tools, trying to distract yourself with the satisfaction of the day’s completed work.

Unluckily for you, this reprieve didn’t last long as a familiar, soft voice approached you.

“Hello, dear,” the lord greeted, his sweet smile making your heart roar like sudden thunder. “Done for the day already? I feel like we never have a chance to enjoy conversing.”

“H-Hello, my lord,” you replied, a little flustered at his sudden appearance. “Work certainly keeps us busy, doesn’t it?”

He gave a soft sigh. “That it does. But who can handle working all the time? I believe that a break is in order.” He eyed you a bit, speaking softer. “So perhaps… you’d be interested in joining me for breakfast tomorrow?”

You were surprised by the offer but even more so when the plantman took a step closer and muttered, “You do such splendid work around here. I feel as though I do not show my appreciation nearly enough.”

“O-Oh! Well, uh–” you stumbled over your words, unable to look away as his tall stature loomed over you. Sunlight beamed behind him, casting his face in a delicate shade, but shined through the petals surrounding his head, creating a mesmerizing halo-like effect.

“I-I– I would love to!” you eventually got out. The smile he gave in return almost knocked you out right then and there.

“Excellent~.” Lord Sorrel finally moved back, giving you some breathing room. “In that case, I shall see you tomorrow, my dear. Have a splendid rest of your day.”

“L-Likewise! Until tomorrow, my lord!”

With the plan made and the conversation over, the lord retreated into the gardens, giving you the perfect opportunity to scurry away. You quickly made your way to the shed, putting all the tools away and taking a moment to calm down.

You had not been expecting that in the slightest, but perhaps it was a good sign? Whatever it may be, you grabbed the fennel plant you had hidden here earlier this morning. It was time.

Carefully navigating through the many plants and flowering bushes, you snuck to the mansion’s back door. It was the perfect spot to place your gift. Lord Sorrel would no doubt pass through here later once he was back from the garden.

You gently set the pot down and then hightailed it back home, giddy and nervous about what the next day would bring. And it was no surprise at all that, in your excitement, you missed something vital.

Your sneaking hadn’t been as good as you had thought, though it wasn’t really a fault of your own.

Lord Sorrel watched your retreating form until you left his sight, his own heart beating like a drum as he approached the door. He just couldn’t help himself. The smell of fennel had been so strong on you that his patience withered in seconds. He was thrilled.

With careful claws, he picked up the plant and thumbed the soft bow, enjoying the texture before his hand went higher, gliding through the leaves and stems. Once the flowers reached his face, he took a deep breath, the scent bringing a bashful, happy smile to his lips.

The lord’s excitement was beyond words; you had understood his message! Ideas were already spinning in his head at the implications; some… a bit too much for him to handle. Images of you flashed across his mind… stunningly on display... laid bare across a blanket of grass and moss…

He shook his head, banishing the enticing thoughts. However, the petals of his head refused to stop their gleeful fluttering, moving in sharp fanning motions.

Still, he had to focus. He wasn’t completely sure yet if you reciprocated his feelings. Flattery didn’t equal interest, after all.

As he slowly walked inside his home, he wondered what to give you next. “Tomorrow will be the perfect opportunity… Should I…?”

An idea struck him suddenly, drawing a gasp from his lips. “Yes…” he whispered, almost breathless. His petals curled with thrill and nerves. “That one should do nicely…”

[lvlystars]

his birthday, his shitty navigation skills, and your paranoia! — c.sc

pairing. choi seungcheol x gn!reader

genre. fluff, a bit of panicking and reader overthinking and being paranoid.

summary. when your boyfriend trusts his ability to get his way around an unknown area, you can expect that all goes to shit.

warnings. none really :/

a/n. this is so poorly written i'm so sorry 😭. also happy (belated) birthday, seungcheol (aka my pookie 🫶🫶🫶)

wc. 1.1k

“those falls over there, they lead to–” you turn to notice that once again, seungcheol is not beside you. “oh my god.” you groan, rubbing your temple in an attempt to remember where you last saw him out of the corner of your eye, snacking on some shrimp chips he bought after lunch.

walking back to the café you both were previously at, you look around, hoping to find your boyfriend just wandering around the café, waiting for you to find him again. to your dismay, seungcheol was nowhere to be found, and knowing seungcheol, he trusted his poor navigation skills once again and got himself lost.

pulling out your phone, you dial his phone number, hoping that his phone was on ringer mode. as your phone rang on, your heart sinks as the line goes to voicemail, the panic settling in.

“fuck, where did this kid go?” you whisper, sending him a message to reply with his whereabouts.

you're startled when jeonghan’s caller id pops up, yelping out loud and making a few eyes turn to you. apologising and bowing, you walk away to pick up the call.

“jeonghan, we have a problem.” you mumble as soon as you slide the green icon, pressing the phone up to your ear.

“what? why?” he replies in a confused tone.

“i lost seungcheol.”

complete silence is heard on the other side of the line as you bite your nails—a habit that you never seemed to shake off, and a habit that seungcheol seemed to dislike, explaining that it’s not good for you and he loves seeing your nails “long and pretty”.

“y/n, what do you mean you lost–”

“I LOST SEUNGCHEOL.” you hiss. “i went out with him for brunch like you wanted me to, then we went to a café nearby and just chilled for a bit, before we went on a little stroll for fun! i don’t know how i lost him but i did!” you ramble, your breathing quickening as you take in the situation. possible scenarios pop up into your brain as you try to control your breathing, and it only induces your panic.

“y/n, honey. i need you to calm down first, and i want you to know that seungcheol just called me and said he’s at some park, so breathe.” you calm down when you heard that he was at least someplace safe and public. “second, he said he doesn’t know where the fuck he’s at and he sounds pretty scared which is really fucking funny when he prides himself in his apparently wonderful fucking navigation skills so that’s something to laugh about.” you hear jeonghan snicker on the other end of the line, making you roll your eyes.

“jeonghan, let him live, won’t you? he’s just…”

“full of himself? fuck yeah he is.” you scoff as you shake your head. “you’re so mean.” you chuckle. “alright. i’ll see if there’s any parks nearby and call you guys back if i find him.” you say before you cut the call and start walking around.

—

you’re now on the verge of tears when you approach a park full of children, all happily running around and sliding down slides.

you walk over to a nearby bench, shoving your head into your hands as you silently sob. you’ve never really been away from seungcheol like this in the 4 years you’ve been with him. well, yes you have, but you never lost him like this. you’d always manage to find him within an hour or so, and now, it’s been almost 3 hours since you lost seungcheol. there was no doubt that you were scared now. as more time passed by, the worse the scenarios in your head grew.

what if he got distracted by a dog on the street and got himself bitten? what if he met up with a friend and went on a coffee date with them, only to find out that he was a bad person and he hurt him? what if someone tried robbing him? what if he got hurt? what if–

the sound of a familiar giggle pulled you out of your thoughts, and you immediately look up.

lo and behold, your boyfriend, choi seungcheol, was playing around with some 5-year-olds on the playground, pushing them on the swings and laughing along with the children.

immediately getting up, you sigh out in relief and run over to seungcheol, tackling him in a hug and completely losing it.

“woah!” he laughs out, bringing one arm over your shoulder as you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “youdon’tknowhowlongittookformetofindyouiwassosca–”

“hey, hey.” seungcheol pulls out of the embrace and holds you by your shoulders and bends down to your eye level, bringing his hand up to your cheek to wipe away your tear that had fallen, adorning a stupidly dopey smile on his lips which almost immediately washed away all the anxiety and fear that once coursed through you.

slinging your arms around his neck once again, you held him tight as you planted a fat kiss on his cheek, making him giggle like a schoolboy as he snaked his arms around your waist, pressing you close to him. “i don’t even know how i lost you, baby.” seungcheol murmured into your hair as he squeezed your waist in a reassuring manner.

scrunching your eyebrows, you pull away and look up at your boyfriend, and he looks back at you, feigning an innocent face with playful nature underneath it. “you got lost yourself and you know that, you son of a–”

“ah! there are children here.” seungcheol presses his index finger on your lips, effectively hushing you. out of the corner of your eye, you spot jeonghan and joshua waving towards the two of you and making faces that clearly indicated that we have to get the fuck out of here because the restaurant reservation we made is in less than 10 minutes and we are 10 minutes away from the goddamn restaurant.

“cheol, honey.” you mumble, noticing that seungcheol was clearly leaning in for a kiss, despite the young audience around you. he hums, still leaning in, and you pull away, making his eyebrows furrow in confusion. you point behind him, and he turns, groaning when he notices the two.

“oh god,” he pinches his nose bridge. “they planned something and now they're late for it? what's it for? my birthday?” you slowly nod, sheepishly smiling. seungcheol widens his eyes as he connects the dots, and gasps.

“YOU WERE IN ON THIS?!”

“...happy birthday?”

tags 🏷️ –

@star1117-archives @kyeomyun @seonghwas-lighter @jaehunnyy @leo-seonghwa @wqnwoos

networks 🔗 –

@preciousillusions-net @caratsland @cacaokpop-fics @k-labels

SVT WORKS

send an ask or drop a comment if you want to be added to my general taglist!

ⓒ lvlystars

[jjtheresidentbaby]

˚. ❝₊˚ 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦 ˚₊·

» sarah cameron & topper thornton || on my ao3

͟͟͞꒰➳ summary: following the scene in s2e6 where topper saves sarah from rafe trying to drown her — topper navigates trying to take care of little!sarah when he isn’t quite sure what’s going on

» warnings: little!sarah, caregiver!topper, swearing, crying, talk of canon violence/events, references to child/family abuse, talk of weight changes/not eating, past topper/sarah

“You got that? You got that Rafe?!” The words tremble just slightly as Topper grits them through his teeth, dropping Rafe to the ground and not letting his bloodied face be in his sight for another second before he turns to Sarah.

“Sarah, Sarah you okay? Can you breathe?” Topper’s hand shakes the smallest amount, resting in the air unsure if he’s allowed to touch Sarah or if that’ll make her very obvious panic worse. She blinks at him hard and sucks in a shaky breath.

“M’okay.” She’s not. Topper knows that and it makes his jaw clench tight in anger all over again, debating for half a second if turning back around to beat on Rafe some more is worth it, but then Sarah timidly reaches out for him and all that rage slips away.

He can’t get her held in his arms any quicker and reassurances start to naturally fall from his lips. It’s too cold for Sarah to be out here in the night when she’s sopping wet, she shouldn’t be stuck in the place where something so traumatic happened either, and the grip she has on the back of Topper’s shirt tells him he won’t be letting her out of his sight anytime soon.

“Sarah, can you walk? We can get on my boat and get away from here.” Away from her absolutely deranged family. Topper always knew Rafe was a loose cannon and Ward gave him a bad vibe since the day he met him but this- Rafe almost drowning his own sister- it’s so much worse than Topper ever thought. It makes a million questions pop into his head, terrified that this isn’t the first bout of violence Sarah’s faced from her family, overthinking every interaction he’s ever observed of Sarah and her family together.

Has this been going on for a long time? Months? Years? When did it get this bad? Maybe this is why she was so attached to John B so quickly, he’s nothing like her family, the farthest thing from it, Topper doubts he even knew Sarah’s step-moms name before they started dating. Shit- was Sarah ever scared of Topper because he hung around Rafe? Did she think he would hurt her?

The back of Topper’s throat turns sour with the thought and he shakes himself back to reality. Sarah hasn’t moved away from his neck, still shaking in place, her freezing nose tucked right up against his hot skin as Topper carefully cradles a hand to the back of her head. Her hair is hardening with the cold water and air from the sea, they really need to get out of here.

“Do you… want me to carry you?” His eyes squeeze shut with the ask because he knows it’s probably the last thing he should be saying. But Sarah’s always loved being carried around, she’d jump on Topper’s back any chance she could get even before they dated, giggling happily when he’d run around with her and bounce her up higher. He’d do anything to hear that giggle right now.

“Y-yeah, please.” The barely audible whisper of Sarah’s voice snaps Topper’s heart to a million pieces all over again.

“Okay I got you.” It’s easier than it was in the past to heft Sarah onto his hip, even with the wet clothes she’s lighter, thinner, he wonders how many days she went without eating when her and John b were stuck running from the cops. There should be food at the boat house he’s planning on taking them to.

The walk over to Topper’s boat is short but actually climbing onto the boat takes a minute or two, Sarah’s unwilling to let go of him and he’s scared of missing his step and falling into the water with her. He manages to get them both on safely but Sarah still won’t let him put her down on the bench of the boat. Something’s shifted in how she’s acting that Topper can’t quite place but it makes his whole chest fill with protective energy. The way she’s leaning on him, curled in as close as possible when he sits on the chair in front of the steering wheel, her hands in a loose grip on his shirt still, eyes wide and terrified— she looks so small — it makes Topper feel impossibly more responsible for her. There’s no way she can be responsible for herself right now, she must be in shock, too out of it to do anything but silently cry against Topper’s chest.

“I know somewhere we can go, somewhere warm, somewhere safe.” He murmurs and reaches to grab a stray blanket that’s draped over the bench of the boat from earlier in the day when Topper spent a good hour sleeping in the sun. Sarah used to say he was like a cat, always attracted to sun spots, but then she started to do the same and they could only laugh about it. A nap like that would probably be good for Sarah right now, it’d at least warm her up- but it’s night and the farther out into the water they drive the colder it gets.

“We’re almost there.” Topper assures when he feels Sarah shiver against him, nodding weakly in acknowledgment. The boat house truly isn’t far and he can see the outside light that’s always flipped on when it gets dark out, but the five minutes still feels like an eternity.

“Do you wanna walk in on your own?” Despite internally cringing as he asks the question because surely Sarah’s okay to walk now- Sarah only shakes her head against his chest. It makes the worry Topper’s had this entire time grow even worse, but he’d never tell her no so he quickly gets the boat tied down - reluctantly leaving Sarah sitting alone on the captain's chair as he does- before coming to scoop her up into his arms bridal style and carry her inside.

“Here’s a towel, I should have some sweatpants and a shirt somewhere around here just give me a sec to find them.” Topper really doesn’t want to leave Sarah sitting on the daybed by herself but she needs to change out of those soaked clothes sooner rather than later.

It takes a lot of digging and a few random swimsuits flung to the floor but eventually Topper finds a pair of jogger sweatpants and a loose shirt, both dry, both much warmer than the small jean shorts and t-shirt Sarah’s in now. She’s busy patting her hair dry, though the action is a little uncoordinated and clumsy, Topper moves to swipe the towel across her hair without thinking.

“Thanks.” It’s a mumble and Sarah’s eyes stare at her hands fidgeting in her lap rather than at Topper.

“Course. Here I’ll stand outside while you get changed.” The last thing he wants is to make Sarah feel uncomfortable so he slips back out onto the landing of the boat house after handing her the new clothes.

It’s already colder outside than when they first arrived despite how little time has passed. Topper momentarily thinks about taking Sarah back to his house for the night. It'd be nicer, probably safer, but his parents just got home from a week-long trip and won’t appreciate him sneaking his ex-girlfriend into his room at ten at night. Even if it’s not for any reason other than to take care of Sarah, not that he can exactly explain that, there’s no way anyone would believe him if he said he caught Rafe trying to drown Sarah when he went out to the docks to get his phone charger from the boat. It’d sound absurd. Like some excuse just to have Sarah stay the night. It’ll be better if she stays here.

“T-top?” The sight of Sarah all but drowning in Topper’s shirt as she sits cross legged on the bed almost makes Topper audibly go ‘awe.’ It’s not how he’s used to feeling about Sarah, there’s nothing romantic about the feeling, she just looks so small and innocent like this it’s pulling on his heart strings.

“Any warmer?” He tugs the blanket back over her shoulders even as Sarah nods to him.

“It’s late, you should sleep.” Not that Topper really wants to leave her out here alone to do so, but she looks exhausted and probably feels worse than she looks considering everything.

“Wait- will you stay?” His wrist gets caught when he turns to walk out of the door again.

“You sure?” Sarah hums and Topper hesitantly moves to sit on the edge of the bed, keenly aware that this might be a bad idea. It’s not that he thinks anything will happen- there’s no way- but Sarah might regret having had him stay in the morning.

“Sarah, you okay?” The answer is blatant, no she isn’t, she just climbed her way to be nearly sitting in Topper’s lap with her head on his chest and arms around his middle, she’d never do that under normal circumstances.

Even when they were a couple she always preferred to lay her head on his shoulder and hold his hand or throw her legs atop his so he could brush his fingertips up and down her calfs- she never wanted to be this close, never clung onto him like she is right now. He doesn’t know what to do in this situation- she’s dating John b, obviously likes him more than she ever liked Topper in a romantic way, and while this feels the farthest thing from romantic, Topper’s still weary of where the line of too much is.

“It’s okay, you can go to sleep, I’m right here.” The reassurances fall from his lips in spite of his personal worry, he simply wraps his arms around her back and gently brushes his thumb up and down on her spine til her eyes flutter shut.

The morning may be awkward and Topper still isn’t sure why Sarah’s behavior has changed so much but for now he does his best to make sure Sarah feels comforted. It’s the least he can do after the hell she’s experienced tonight with Rafe, and he can worry about John b possibly kicking his ass later, he doesn't care as long as Sarah is safe tonight.

[waywardstation]

A while ago someone brought up the idea for the tot au that Ingo settles to stay in Hisui. Having built a live for himself there and the idea of going to the future and not remembering everyone is terrifying... With Uxie seeing there is something horribly wrong with Ingo's memories.

The idea on itself is pretty good that Uxie notices the state of memories, but I doubt it'll greatly affect his feelings on having built a live for himself in Hisui. And after the reaction from Uxie he probably would realize how dangerous this whole thing would be. (especially after Uxie got the boot from MG!Emmet) So while Ingo would long for his memories he would utterly and completely refuse to let them go through with this plan. His memories ain't worth the safety of those closest to him, and he rather lives without his memories in Hisui than knowing Akari Irida or really anyone got hurt in the process of helping him restore his memories...

What I'm trying to say is... don't get me wrong but... I just don't see any reason for Ingo to decide to go through with all of this with the stakes being high like that. Not if it's possibly endangering others. (and I doubt you could keep all of this from him. From the moment the journey would start he would constantly fretting over them...)

I'm sorry for this message but this just wouldn't add up to me. If this is the course of action we need something that makes Ingo more willing to go through with it or Ingo not being as hesitant to the idea of going back to the future in the first place and maybe a slightly different course of action in all of this making it less obvious that this could be incredibly dangerous to do. -someone who spends way too much time overthinking little things

Oh yes I remember this! This exact concern has been brought up before I think. First off, no need to apologize for a message like this at all! If someone has concerns about something, it’s good to question them! It gives a chance to rework things to make sense, or clarify something! :)

Someone did bring up once that Ingo would not want anyone to go through with this if he realized how dangerous it was. So they proposed it would be best if on the surface, it seemed easy.

Uxie says they can fix things, they go in, but before they can get a good look of things MG Emmet boots them out. Uxie reports everything seemed fine, except it’s hard for them to navigate. Perhaps they tried to go in a few times, with MG Emmet kicking them out every time. (No pokemon allowed, look what Remnant did!)

It seems like a quick and easy fix if they can just get around the security, it seems very low-stakes with no danger, so there is no risk.

Ingo might even still fret over this despite it seeming entirely safe, but Akari would vehemently press. “Uxie said it was fine! If we get caught we’ll just be tossed back out like Uxie was! It’s just our consciousnesses, we can’t get hurt!”

Akari and Irida end up going in with the help of the lake spirits, and are able to get around MG Emmet, but he chases them around the station.

Everything seems fine on the surface, harmless and easy if they just avoid the conductor, but then as they spend more time in there, they find out about Remnant, and how dangerous this mission really is.

It was suggested this would mean the whole thing would have to be done in one session. Akari and Irida can not get out of the mindscape until they’re done, because if they do and they retell everything that’s going on under the surface, Ingo would never let them back in. No one outside of the mind station would even understand there is a fragment parasite ravaging everything until after the whole thing is done, and Akari and Irida have finished taking care of things.

I do hope this seems reasonable! I didn’t come up with this explanation myself, but I think it can explain things quite well! If not, I am entirely open to still working on this! It’s important for things to make sense!

[leyyvi]

same anon who had to hold themselves back from rereading paychecks. i’ll try to be brief:

i would like to announce that one of my favorite elements in your writing, specifically with your characterization of levi, IS HOW UNASSUMING AND CURIOUS OF HOW OTHERS THINK OF HIM. i’m possibly self projecting here bc of how often i question other people’s perception of me. like when reader playfully swats at him in las vegas and he wonders if that’s something she nonchalantly does while drunk, or if it’s something she does with friends—god i love when characters are a bit socially inept and unsure about others.

sorta like that whole “show, not tell” BUT TO A WHOLE NEW LEVEL THAT’S BEAUTIFULLY REALISTIC (there are so many subtle things you’ve written in the story. i could write an essay on how it enhances the story). good luck on your finals and projects!

no because i love writing levi as socially awkward, making him fumble when it comes to talking and doubting his own train of thoughts. yes, he snaps and gets grumpy. but i can also just see him being... awkward. saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. not knowing what to say at all so he just..sits there quietly and scratches his head and drowns in his own uncomfortableness if that makes sense?

writing him struggle in social situations is oddly comforting to me (i guess i just project a LOT onto him as well when it comes to social situations and thought processes) but he questions EVERYTHING. whether it's intentions, getting off on tangents on how reader is outside of his and her interactions... his mind wanders a lot even if he's quiet about it. he overthinks to the point of exhausting himself and wonders SO many things...

like sure, reader does it similarly, but i think she handles it outwardly a lot better than levi does. she's a bit better navigating through conversations, but also understands part of what levi may be silently going through. she's perceptive but not intrusive and he likes that about her. yes, he has friends that understand him. but erwin and hange sometimes push too much (which is definitely needed at times!)

levi has moments where he can be kinda smooth but i wanna say a lot of it just happens on accident. he's a romantic at heart even if he wont say or show it all the time, it does come out in small, quiet ways that very few people can notice.

sjkhf flgjgkdjhgk hhurghhh there's so many small things between them that i honestly did not intend to create from the start but they kinda just manifested on their own when i write and :((( i love them dearly.

AHHH i absolutely love writing it. it's very cathartic for me, i won't lie. it sends me over the moon when people notice those small things though. i get so fucking giddy when people point them out or mention the easter eggs i leave in there ;; <3

[duchessofostergotlands]

I am asexual and I was born between those weird transitional years between Millennials and Gen Z and your tags are scary accurate. I call myself asexual in theory/in my mind but I have a hard time thinking of myself as anything but a straight person with higher standards. I also never tell potential dates that i’m asexual because I don’t want them to overthink it. Anyway, at this rate all I want is to meet a man that’s not boring by the time I’m in my mid 30s

I'm so glad there's at least two of us haha. I'll go into a bit more detail for people if it's interesting or helpful but feel free to tune out because it is long.

I started thinking about this again more seriously because I saw this article about a tiktok trend (such a dumb thing to kick it off but it's true) around "compulsory heterosexuality." It was saying that if you answer yes to x questions then you might be someone who is a lesbian or bi and you just conform to heterosexuality because it's easier, it's been forced into you etc. All of the things they were saying applied to me. I'm attracted largely to unattainable men - celebrities, fictional characters etc - because there's no chance of ever having to navigate a relationship or sex. I'm attracted to men until they're attracted to me. When I go on dating apps I look for reasons not to match with the guy. I feel nauseous when I think about genuinely trying to have sex with a man, not just fantasies. The videos have a lot of issues but they sparked a thought in me for a moment. But I do know I'm not a lesbian. I could be bi, maybe, as I am attracted to women in a way that's different from wanting to look like them or recognising their aesthetic beauty but personally for various reasons I don't think I'd ever be in a relationship or have sex with a woman either. But I did think that if I was saying yes to all of these questions then maybe there was something else going on. I looked into asexuality more closely and saw how much of a spectrum it is. You and I both understand that kind of attitude that heterosexuality is attraction to the opposite sex, homosexuality to the same sex, bisexuality to both, asexuality to no one. That's how it was portrayed when we were growing up, especially given the fact trans rights were still so far behind and our parents or teachers wouldn't ever have explained gender vs sex or sexuality vs gender identity. Even in this message, I probably phrased this differently to how Gen Z would because when I talk about men and women I'm mostly talking about cis people! That's my default, even though I've been attracted to more trans or non binary people than cis people!

Some of the categories and interpretations of asexuality did fit with me. However, I still don't know if it's right for me either. The complicating factor is my childhood did not set me up to handle attachment, it has kind of stunted me in a way where I feel very much like a child and that sex and relationships are for "grown ups" (if anyone has ever noticed I use the words girl and boy more than woman and man, that's why; the idea of referring to myself as a woman instead of a girl makes me a bit sick), it's made it very hard for me to ever consider myself as being a desirable person. I have in the past had fluctuations. Whenever I've been regularly having sex I feel more comfortable with it. I don't enjoy most sexual activities but I don't feel that shame and disgust and to be honest maybe they were just not clicking with me. Like right now I haven't had sex since before the pandemic, I have barely even been in a room with a human male, so is that just making the feelings worse? So my childhood experiences coupled with the fact my feelings do fluctuate makes me doubt it's asexuality.

I don't have a conclusion right now which is ok. I know that I want companionship. That's something I do know. I want someone who supports me and loves me in a special kind of way (this is probably mummy/daddy issues coming out). What I don't know is who I want that person to be and what I want our relationship to be. It's all just messy in my brain. If you're open to it I'd love to hear more about how you came to accepting you are asexual and what that process was like. I am by no means expecting you to "fix" me or anything, don't worry, but it's not something I've ever spoken about with anyone before! I'm also happy to chat privately if that's easier for you

[danddymaro]

Perfect | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Who Is the Perfect man for (f/n)?

-Something Corny, and sweet.

Word Count:  2826

Perfect 

He found it impossible to compete with his closest friend, not just because it was morally wrong to try and get the same girl, but because all in all, he had no chances with her, and he was well aware.

'Because even if I'm wrong,' He started, '...Even if it's not Steve... then I'd still be the last person in the world you’d ever look at,' He silently declared, truly believing it.

'You could always do so...so much better than me,' He thought with dejection.

'I know it...but even then, I'm willing to make a fool of myself. 

 I want to let you know because it's getting harder and harder to just sit back,'

"(f/n)" He said while following up with a harsh swallow,

"I'm not perfect like Steve," Bucky started, "...I’m not someone who’s loved by everyone, and looked up by just about every child on the damn planet," he confessed, and at his sudden outburst she let out a surprised peep, turning to him with wide eyes,

“Wha-”

" And I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm not him!" He cried out. " But I wish I was..." he added, knowing just how much the woman idolized the other man.

"I really wish I were." He added with a short mutter.

 (f/n) eyed his pain-stricken face with concern, because there was an obvious shine of heartbreak in his steel-colored eyes, causing a hitch in her breath, her heart stopped by the sight before it tore in two, further breaking as she saw his expression grow even more with anguish and melancholy as his chest heaved with heavy breaths.

- This was the endgame, the all or nothing for him,

"In Fact, I'm the furthest thing from a hero and I know that." he continued on, a dry laugh tailing the words because he found it almost amusing how little he was in comparison to the perfect blonde.

‘When I stand next to him… I can’t help but feel like I’m less.’

"- I know what I am," he added, trying his best to let his wavering smile last.

He wanted to at least look brave, to look like a real man and not the groveling mess he really was as he forced out the words, battling rough the pain that threatened to take over.

Her (e/c) colored eyes went wide as he said that, and she immediately rushed to his side, " No Bucky, please don't start with that, you're a good person!" she said with a certainty that almost convinced him.

Like many times before, she rushed to his side, both Metaphorically and in literal actions, trying her best to assure him, and it was yet another reason why he cherished her so much.

"It can't be true if I don't believe it," She said stubbornly, throwing him a glowing grin as she said the words, the expression brightening even more as he looked at her dumbfounded,

"What does that even mean?" He asked her, a little chuckle leaving him.

"Just what I said," She went on, " It can't be true if I don't accept it," She reiterated.

He let the words settle in, and it wasn’t long before eye understood, by then offering  her a tired, little smirk  as he shook his head, "So, it’s just that easy?" He asked her, the moronic simplicity of it amusing him.

"For me it is," she told him, "For me, it's easy to accept that you're not a monster. It's easy for me to believe it, and even if you keep telling me otherwise, Buck...It won't change the way I see you," She explained,

"So just think of it that way, that, even if the entire world believes it, you included, there's not a damn thing in the world that will let me fall into the same train of thought.

As long as I'm kicking there's doubt,

And as long as there is doubt, it can't be accepted as truth," She spelled out, the certainty she displayed showing to be unwavering.

‘Only you...’ He thought with disbelief, 

“You really are something else,” He muttered, the little grumble rousing a little giggle.

She was the anchor to his unsteady boat and all the while the kindness she showed him made him fall harder under her spell, giving him more excuses to come closer to her, it also scathed him, because he knew that she only saw him as the pathetic mess in need of care.

And he wanted much more than that. 

He shook his head and took advantage of the closeness of their bodies by taking hold of her, his hands at her upper arms,

"- (F/n)," He started, mauling over how it had taken him months to find the perfect moment, the instant where he'd risk everything.

‘This is it,’ He told himself.

"You don't need to coddle me like that," he said with a soft sound of amusement escaping his nose. Afterward, he then took a deep, slow breath through his parted lips, before he tightened his hold by only a small degree, careful to not hurt her with his metal arm.

"Look... I can't be him, and I'm sorry," He said softly, truly sounding regretful for something he had no control over.

"I can't be Steve, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't wish I could stand in his shoes for just an instant, and feel what it's like to have you see me with anything but pity.” He revealed, “ Because then...(F/n) you’d see me in the way I really want you to look at me as...as a man." he confessed.

‘I don’t want you to feel bad for me anymore. In fact, I don’t want to be swallowed up by the same pity myself,’ He thought to himself.

" Look, I'm not as smart as Banner, because I still struggle with the technology of today and I know it'll get annoying," he said trailing off, not finding a single strong point he held in the field, "But I'll try... I really will," he swore.

At the confession, a small smile made its way onto her features, because he was right, he was a helpless mess when it came to the more modern things, but, to her, it was adorable.

She found it cute, and just another reason to stay by him a bit longer.

Watching him fiddle with his phone with that adorable, little face of confusion he gave her was all the more reason to sit closer to him, taking hold of his hand within hers to lead his finger across the screen and navigate through all its apps and features.

" I'm not wealthy like Stark… in fact, I could never have that much money and spoil you as much as he could." He told her, " I know some women like fancy jewelry and nice expensive dinners, but the most I can do for you now is a small bouquet of ( favorite flowers)...because I know how much you like them," He said softly, having noticed how much she stopped by to visit the little patch of them as they took small walks.

"Sorry," She said with a sheepish smile, " I know it gets annoying," She said while petting the small petal, " But I really like these flowers," She said while gazing at the blossom,

" They're my favorite," She told him, having to only mention it once for him to remember, ingraining it in his brain that if he ever got her flowers they'd be the ones she loves most.

' I know everything about you,' he thought with fondness. ' Because...Because I always remember everything you have to say...I cling to every word because I know that sometimes you think you’re not heard.'

"I remember every bit of you, down to the stupid little faces you want me to forget," he said making her hold back a small chuckle as she glanced away, turning pink at the mention.

"I'm not a prince like Thor.. or ...even a God..." he continued on, speaking with just abit more lightheartedness while gazing at the sweet expression she wore.

"I'm not funny like Clint since you seem to love his jokes so much...for whatever reason," he said with furrowed brows, seemingly stumped on that one because Clint Barton’s humor was just simple, stupid puns that made everyone else roll their eyes.

"And don't get me started on Sam..." He muttered, detesting how easily the two flowed with each other, all to the point they seemed to share a single, working  brain cell, and it only made the older man wish he had the same ability to just work with her without the awkwardness and fear.

‘But I just get so nervous...’ he lamented, ‘ I just end up overthinking it all, and it’s because you have this effect on me,

In fact, it’s a miracle I’m even getting through this now,’

(f/n) shook her head at him, because Bucky didn't need to tell her jokes to smile, and they didn't need to make stupid banter either.

she didn't need to find a reason to smile with him, because, she just did, naturally.

- It was like second nature while at his side.

"I'm not as charming as that Loki guy.

I see the way you smile at the sound of his voice and I'd be lying if I said I really didn't wish mine sounded like his," He said with a dry chuckle, knowing he grew especially jealous when the other man purposely pronounced certain words for her, just to make her giggle, living for the attention he received.

'Oh...Bucky,' (f/n) thought while shaking her head, because, truth be told, the sound of his voice was much more her taste. She loved the sound of it from when it goes higher with joy, or mellows down in serenity, and even when it trembles as he tells her his worries.

‘I don’t think you realize how expressive you’ve become,’ She mused, ‘ Oh Buck, I could go on forever listening to you instead.' She thought to herself. 'I'd love nothing more than to hear you every morning, and not just outside my door. 

I mean first thing...right as I wake up.

And then...afterwards, fall asleep to your murmurs.' she inwardly spoke with the same bashful expression that had yet to cease,

'Bucky...' She thought with a soft smile. 'You’re such an idiot.'

"- I'm just not... not him. I'm not any of these men.

I don't have anything to offer you...

Not a single thing to my name that can bring you pride, " he admitted while looking down at his hands, both gloved limbs because he detested looking down at what actually lay beneath the piece of clothing.

"My arm is like a spoon on a stove on most summer days and a block of ice on winter ones.

So, I could never give you a fully warm touch, one that’s comforting and that I know you deserve." He said softly, having gone over the thought so many times that it haunted him.

"I'm not perfect..." he said dejectedly, saying so in a way that seemed as though it was meant for himself to remind him of just who he was before he got his hopes up too far.

‘What am I even doing...?’ He asked himself, his shoulders slowly falling as he weighed in the facts.

‘Oh...I'm not either Bucky,' She thought while feeling her heart race.

What he believed to be perfection was all misguided, because All the details and traits he wanted to have were things he didn’t need.

"I know I'm not.

I'm at the point where I'm still struggling to remember who am...and much more, somehow make up for all the wrong I’ve done.

(f/n) , I'm Still struggling to accept what I've done...which is a lot." He confessed, sighing deeply. " I've done so much wrong that I don't ever think ill be able to atone for my wrongdoings.

In short, I could give you a list of the many things wrong with me, and it'd run for miles, but there is one thing that I know is right,

And...And it's that I love you." He said while finally uttering the three words he's wanted to tell her for ages now.

"I love you so much (f/n), it hurts right here when I'm not with you, " He admitted, clutching his chest, placing his palm right above his bouncing heart.

Taking her hands in his he lifted them to his lips, offering her a tender kiss to each Knuckle, and all the while she stood watching, still stunned by his confession.

"Doll, you make my heart race like crazy!" he said with astonishment, peering down at her with glowing eyes.

"Sometimes, you make me feel like I'm back where I was when everything was simple and good, and for those moments, I feel fully human.

Yeah, There are times when my brain goes haywire, and I get stupidly tongue tied, but, when I’m not  rendered stupid, with you...everything feels right.

 And just looking at you does that to me!" he said cocooning her hands in his.

"You give me nostalgia of good times and make me forget I'm a mess, and that's all I want now, to feel like a regular guy and...maybe, settle down.” He revealed, letting her know what she inspired in him.

‘A family? For me?’ He asked himself, ‘ You make me think of building an actual future,’

“-I know one thing for certain and ...and It's that whatever I become after this will revolve around you,

Always.

Because you're the center of my universe (f/n).

I didn't want to force you into loving me, to pity you into accepting me, that's why I've been silent, but I also can't keep this to myself anymore, because I feel like it’s slowly killing me," He said while tightening his hold on her.

“Keeping this from you is torture,” He added." If I lose you because I was too afraid to take the risk I don't know what I'd do with myself. And I know that even if everyone else in the world has a better shot than me...Even if they're all better in every way, no one else can love you the way I do,” He told her. 

“And you deserve to be given the world, if not the entire universe!

(F/n) ,  I'm asking for the chance, The chance to try and hand it to you, " he pleaded. "That's all I need, it's all I need to prove myself. I'll try my best to make you happy and treat you like a prince- no like a queen. " He went on, rambling and unwinding everything he'd kept silent.

Her (e/c) eyes were wide and her brows rose as high as they could, shaking like a leaf in his hands, and seeing that he felt anxious,

"Don't be afraid of me, please. You can even say no if you want, just don't leave me.

 Even if you don't want me as a man, I still want to be able to see you, I still want to be a part of your life, no matter how meaningless it is, because I just want to make you happy."

His eyes then met hers, and in that one glance, his heart exploded into little bits and pieces.

Her eyes were glistening with tears, but beneath that, they twinkled with the glee. They sparkled like they never had before and he couldn't help but stare at the woman, becoming dumbstruck.

" You took all this time to list the things you're not Bucky..." she replied, finally speaking, finding her voice. " but you forgot to mention everything that makes me want you instead," She told him.

She then wrapped her arms around his neck, latching onto him, unashamed at coming closer.

Without skipping a beat he lifted her up and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Spinning her around he smiled,

"Doll... I'll make you happy, I promise...I'll find a reason to make you smile every single day." He swore, heading down for a kiss he'd craved.

Through her response she smiled, kissing him back with the same yearning, thinking of no one else but the man that held her so dearly,

“I love you too,” She said back, the words filling him with even more joy because while he wasn’t in any way near faultless, she loved him.

‘I’m not perfect either,’ She mused, ‘But you think I’m worth being handed the entire world and more,’ She went on, truly touched by his declarations, 

In spite of his every insecurity and doubt, she saw him as her own perfection, finding it amusing because all the while, she’d been afraid to take the step closer, 

“I couldn’t ask for better,” She breathed, 

“I couldn’t love anyone else,”

[mc-lukanette]

The rock star life wasn't what Luka thought it'd be, though he supposed he could attribute it to his father constantly talking it up and raising his standards so high that nothing could've competed with them. It wasn't that he hated going on tours or playing for crowds, but there was definitely something wrong that he couldn't put into words.

Juleka at least seemed sympathetic to his concerns once he'd gotten back from his recent tour, and he chuckled when she threw him some money to solve the problem, insisting that he eat his sorrows away for now and worry about details later. They'd both planned to visit their mother to celebrate his return, so it was only appropriate that he be in higher spirits for it.

Rose was happy to give him the address of what was - according to her - "the best bakery in Paris," with Juleka non-subtly implying that the money she'd given wasn't only for him. Thoroughly amused, he complied, leaving to follow the directions to said bakery with his phone.

He felt lucky to have not run into any fans on the way there, hoping that the same would go for the way back. The last thing he wanted was to have his boxes of baked goods accidentally knocked over and ruined.

As he saw the bakery in the distance, he was surprised when he noticed that it had been right next to his and Juleka's old school. He distinctly remembered there being a bakery, but the name Rose had given him hadn't rung any bells. He checked his phone out of curiosity and confirmed that the name had been changed since his sister had been in the school, replacing the "Tom & Sabine" with "Dupain-Cheng."

With that mystery solved, he headed for the front door and opened it up, smiling at the chime of the bell that announced his entrance. There weren't any other customers around, leaving the lone worker to look over and notice him: a woman, probably around Juleka's age, dressed a little nicer than he'd expect and seeming to be in the middle of making something.

At the sight of him, she gasped and covered her mouth. "Y-you're—Luka Couffaine?!"

He flinched, expecting a fangirl moment, but instead, the girl blushed in embarrassment and ran away from him. She went over to a nearby towel, cleaning her hands of flour, then put the towel back and checked over her clothes.

"Sorry," she whined, glancing up at her hair and fussing over it. "I wasn't expecting any customers for a while."

She took a breath, then strutted over to the counter with the fake demeanor of a businesswoman. Placing her hands delicately on the counter's surface, she flashed him a shy smile, blushing as she asked, "Um... how may I help you?"

Oh, she was cute. That was Luka's entire train of thought, and he hadn't been able to catch it before his mind had already put it forth for him to both acknowledge and agree with.

"Ah—" He cleared his throat, only now realizing that he'd never asked Juleka what she wanted to eat.

"Do you need a drink?" the woman questioned, looking at him worriedly.

"Oh, no. Thank you though," he replied with a dismissive wave. "That was—I need to ask my sister what she wants."

"No problem!" She giggled. "It's not like you're holding up the line."

Really cute.

He tossed her a smile, then fished out his phone and quickly texted Juleka, asking her what he should be ordering. He knew he could've called her, but he preferred having something written to hand off instead of having to be the middle man between the Juleka on the phone and the woman in front of him.

Setting his phone down on the counter, where he'd see it once Juleka texted him back, he then turned his gaze back up. "So, you know me?"

"Yeah, I do. I'm actually a huge fan, and I have all of your albums," she replied. "Buuuuut, I've dealt with a lot of... over-enthusiastic people in my life, so I know what it's like. I'd hate to make you uncomfortable." A beat of silence passed, and she playfully added, "Plus, I'm on the clock."

He chuckled, half-wondering if she was actually different outside of work. "And... is this place yours? I saw that the name changed."

"Sort of." She shrugged. "It's a family business. My papa is Tom Dupain, my maman is Sabine Cheng, and I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

He was glad she'd told him her name, thankful that he didn't have to non-subtly try to ask for her name now. Marinette.

She continued, "My parents went away on vacation, so I'm in charge." Puffing out her chest with pride, she assured, "I'm proving that I can handle everything myself."

Luka broke out into a huge grin, thoroughly charmed. "I'm sure you can. You definitely have the energy for it."

He tried to hide his amusement at seeing her try not to blush and turn shy from the compliment. She clearly wore her heart on her sleeve and couldn't hide anything if her life depended on it.

He'd never heard a song like hers before.

"S-so!" she deflected in a way she probably thought was skillful. "If you don't mind me asking, how was your tour?"

"Mm?" He was briefly caught off-guard, not expecting to have to talk about himself, though he supposed he should've, given that she was apparently a fan of his. "Oh, it was fine."

She tilted her head, suddenly concerned. "It was only fine?"

Oops. Luka hoped it didn't show on his face that he knew he'd slipped up. He didn't doubt - based on the small amount of time he'd known her - that Marinette would've listened to his worries, but he didn't want her to fret over his career when she was a fan of his.

Thinking quickly, he replied, "Well, I'm just glad to be back home. My family's here."

She nodded in understanding, not seeming to fully believe him - perceptive little thing - but accepting anyway. "That makes sense. I'd never be able to leave my parents for that long. I'd miss them too much!"

He chuckled. She seemed like the kind of person to overthink about people like that. "Yeah. My sister practically threw me onto the plane for my first tour." He grinned. "We still shared a room back then and I think she was desperate for privacy with her girlfriend."

Marinette covered her mouth, trying to hide a sweet giggle that he discreetly stored away in his memory.

"Still," she began, her gaze softening along with her voice. Luka detected a distinct change in atmosphere as she continued, "I don't think it's good if you miss them too much on tour. I think your fans would understand if you kept your them shorter." She smiled reassuringly. "I know I would, so please don't overdo it."

He blinked, staring at her with surprise. It was almost funny to him how he'd hoped not to run into any fans on the way there, yet here he was now, glad to have this particular fan to talk to.

She was sweet. She was cute. She seemed to genuinely care about him, and he was—

His phone chimed with a familiar tone, and Luka figured that it might've been for the best that he wasn't able to finish that thought, already hearing his dad's rambles about fans and attachment and keeping them at a stage's distance.

He picked up his phone, offering Marinette a quick "thank you" for her kind words before opening up his conversation with Juleka.

He blanked at the message she sent.

Hey, here's the list (by the way, say "hi" to the baker while you're there; not suggesting anything but she's cute and totally your type since you're both really lame):

Luka had too many questions all at once. Had his sister sent him there just to try and get him a date? Would she have sent him to the Dupain-Cheng bakery otherwise? Was Rose in on it too?

Did he really have a type?

Luka glanced briefly up at Marinette, who seemed wholly oblivious to his internal conflict. Trying not to just stand there stupidly, he copied the list Juleka sent and put it into a memo app on his phone, not wanting to risk Marinette seeing the rest of the message.

He took a quick look around the display cases and added something for himself to the list, then set his phone back on the counter and slid it over to Marinette. She leaned over, taking a look at the list, then gave him an acknowledging smile and went off to fill the order.

He waited to make sure that she had everything on the list memorized, then picked his phone back up and navigated to the camera app, now all too aware of what Juleka's smug reaction would be when he got back with the absolute dumbest look on his face.

"Luka?" Marinette called after an indistinguishable amount of time. He met her gaze and she added hurriedly, "I-I hope I wasn't interrupting anything, but here's your order."

She slid the boxes across the counter, having put them in a bag for easy carrying. He placed her payment on the counter and smiled at her, assuring, "You didn't interrupt anything. Thank you."

He didn't notice how warm his voice had sounded until after the words were already out, and by then it was already too late to change it. Slipping his hand through the bag's handles, he lifted it up and kept his phone held in his other hand.

"Oh!" Marinette gasped. "Let me get the door for you!"

"You don't have to—"

"It's okay! Your hands are full!"

He wouldn't define them as "full," but she was already rushing to make to the door before he did. He didn't miss how she opened it like a boyfriend would for their girlfriend, even adding a bow just for flair.

The bell chiming seemed to be emphasizing her voice rather than his exit.

"Please come again!" she recited like it was something she told everyone. She paused, then blushed and stood straight, any professionalism gone as she stammered, "I-I'm sorry, is that weird to say since I'm your fan? I didn't mean to, but—well, do come back, but only if you want! So—"

"I do," he cut in, much to her apparent surprise. He maintained eye contact on the way out, adding fondly, "See you later, Marinette?"

"A-ah... see you!"

He immediately had to look away to prevent her from seeing the way he grinned at the squeak in her voice. He heard the bakery door close behind him and held his phone back up to his face. Glad that there weren't many people in the immediate area, he spent probably five minutes trying to make faces at his camera.

Eventually, he had to give up hope that Juleka wouldn't tease him, because the smile wouldn't leave his face no matter how hard he tried.

That didn't mean he wasn't going to visit the bakery tomorrow though, of course.

[womenstan]

One More Night - P.4

Let Me Forget You

Summary "Now, Sander held the power of breaking this thing off whenever and leaving Robbe a mess again. But, Robbe had decided he wasn’t going to let that happen. He wasn’t just going to sit still and look pretty until Sander decided he’d had enough of him. Besides, it was nothing more than sex between them. He could live without it, or find it elsewhere.

He was going to stop this thing and he was going to move on.

How difficult could it be, right?"

Part four of one more night

Robbe had always been one to overthink things, to let them stew and simmer in his mind for hours on end, until they either stopped making sense or managed to completely freak him out.

This time, it was the latter. He hadn’t meant to keep thinking about Sander, or, rather, the feelings the simple mention of that name evoked in him. Yet, here he was, two days later, unable to focus on anything else.

He’d known since the beginning that they were walking a very thin and dangerous line and that this was never going to end well, but now he was starting to realize he might have a lot more to lose here than Sander did.

He’d tried to ignore it, push it to the farthest corners of his mind, but to no avail. He knew that once he would enter Sander’s vicinity, his brain would lose all sense of logic and he’d just end up repeating the same mistake again and again and again… until Sander got bored and ditched him again, probably.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to resist, but simply ignoring Sander didn’t seem to be an option, as they constantly ended up in each other’s way. So, he couldn’t ignore him, but there was no way he was going to let Sander win this either.

The angry, fiery sex was great. No, it was beyond amazing and by far the best Robbe had ever had. He was like an addict who needed his fix and that gave Sander the upper hand over him, which Robbe really, really hated. He’d walked right into it too, promising himself he’d never have anything to do with that guy again, before jumping into his bed, both figuratively and literally.

Now, Sander held the power of breaking this thing off whenever and leaving Robbe a mess again. But, Robbe had decided he wasn’t going to let that happen. He wasn’t just going to sit still and look pretty until Sander decided he’d had enough of him. Besides, it was nothing more than sex between them. He could live without it, or find it elsewhere.

He was going to stop this thing and he was going to move on.

How difficult could it be, right?

----

Turns out the answer was: very fucking difficult.

Not only did they attend the same university, but they also both followed classes in the same wing and hung out at the same parties.

Robbe managed to avoid Sander at school by only showing up to his classes and never hanging out at the library afterwards, but this solution could only last so long. So, he needed a plan.

“Milan, what? I’m not going to fuck some guy just to get over this thing with Sander!” Robbe exclaimed, incredulous.

Milan sighed, sitting down next to him on the bed while throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. “Fine, Robbe, be boring, then!”

Robbe huffed at that, already regretting coming to Milan for advice. Milan crossed his arms, pouting, before turning his back to Robbe. They stayed in silence for a bit, as Robbe was starting to consider having to switch universities to get out of this.

Suddenly, Milan spun back towards Robbe, grabbing him by the arms in excitement. Robbe arched one his eyebrows in question, prompting Milan to inhale dramatically.

“Ok, I have a solution,” Milan said, which only made Robbe scrunch his face in doubt. “And before you ask, no , it doesn’t involve sex or illegal activities.”

Now, Robbe’s curiosity was piqued. “Go ahead, but I swear if you suggest your cousin aga-“

“No, no, I swear! How was I supposed to know he was married, Robbe, seriously!” Milan interrupted, waving Robbe off. “ Anyways , no, I’m talking about Theo .”

Robbe felt his hopes get crushed all at once. “Milan, no. I can’t.”

Milan tutted him, but Robbe just kept shaking his head in disbelief. “No, Milan, that guy has, like, genuine feelings. I can’t just use him for this!”

Theo was a barista at the university’s small student café. At first, Robbe had thought he was simply extremely nice, but his kindness had escalated into flirting quickly enough. He was very obviously interested in Robbe and he wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it. And the thing was that he was far from ugly. Theo was a little taller than Robbe and objectively handsome with his side-swept brown hair and his deep blue eyes that seemed to read into your soul when he looked at you. He was also really nice, which might actually be part of the problem. He was so, so, nice that he ended up being quite… boring. Every time Robbe stopped to grab a coffee, he prayed to every single God he could remember that Theo wouldn’t get the guts to ask him out. So far, he’d been safe.

See, Robbe wasn’t good at saying no to people. He hated seeing the hurt on their faces and he felt guilty every time he’d see them again. So, he was pretty sure he’d end up saying yes if Theo proposed a date and he really didn’t think he could survive going out with Theo without falling asleep on him.

So, he couldn’t just use him to get over Sander. He wasn’t that kind of person.

Milan got up and walked towards the door without saying a word, which only aggravated Robbe even more.

“I won’t do this to him, Milan!”

-----

And he really, really wasn’t going to. But then, as he was walking to his last class the next day, he caught sight of a sliver of white hair out of the corner of his eyes and his brain kind of just stopped working.

He couldn’t even think about escaping before Sander’s gaze had met his.

“Robin. Long time no see.” Sander said. He didn’t even bother smirking to smooth his tone over, all coldness and anger that sent chills up Robbe’s spine.

Robbe laughed dryly, his otherwise good mood crushed in an instant. “Yeah, too bad you decided to ruin it, hm?”

Sander stepped closer to Robbe, making him take some tentative steps back towards the wall. The corridors were mostly empty now, most students having already reached their classes. Robbe should definitely follow suit if he doesn’t want to be late, which he definitely doesn’t, considering how strict this teacher is and how behind he is in the course. But it’s as if his body stopped obeying his mind, his feet rooted in place as if cemented into the floor.

“How long are we gonna keep playing cat and mouse for?” Sander said, voice low and hoarse, letting Robbe know he was actually pissed off by Robbe’s avoidance.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

If Robbe had thought Sander was mad before, it was nothing compared to now. His eyes had gone dim and narrow and if the way his breathing became more labored was any indication, Robbe was in trouble.

He looked to his left, then to his right, but Sander’s body was pretty much crowding him, making it impossible for Robbe to simply walk away without a confrontation.

“Oh, really? ‘Cause that’s not what you were saying last week when you couldn’t get your hands off me at that party and I had to drag your drunk ass home.”

Robbe’s head snapped back to Sander’s, now angry as well. “Fuck off, I was drunk. Of course I’d try to go for someone like you.”

Sander’s hands slammed the wall on each side of Robbe’s head, making him flinch slightly. They were so close by now that Robbe could feel Sander’s hot breath on his face, which was only slightly distracting him from the hurt that flared in Sander’s gaze.

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Sander asked, practically growling with anger.

If it was anyone else, Robbe might have felt bad about what he’d insinuated. But this was Sander and making Sander angry only resulted in making Robbe even angrier.

Raising his chin to match Sander’s height, Robbe locked his eyes with his, trying to appear as unbothered as he could. “Someone who’d fuck anything with a heartbeat,” he spat out, smirking at the way Sander’s face fell.

“Shut the fuck up,” Sander said, eyes closed and sounding out of breath.

Robbe’s brain was no longer thinking logically, completely wrapped up in the tension electrifying the air between them.

“Make me then.”

And for once, Sander didn’t respond with some snarky remark to one-up Robbe. He just dived right in.

Fumbling behind Robbe, Sander pushed open a nearby door, gripping Robbe’s shirt and pulling them in. He shut the door close with his right foot, shoving Robbe against a shelf roughly.

Robbe winced a little as he was sent backwards, preparing himself for the landing, but Sander managed to slip his hand behind his head just in time to avoid a collision. Robbe sighed in relief, but the end of his sigh was caught by Sander’s mouth on his, harsh and demanding.

Instinctively, Robbe’s hands went up to Sander’s hair, twisting his fingers in the strands and pulling in desire. Sander’s moan was barely audible, swallowed somewhere in their kiss. As Sander’s tongue found its way to Robbe’s mouth, his fingers slipped to Robbe’s waist, holding him tightly against the shelf.

The room was entirely silent, apart from the wet sound of their mouths gliding together and the occasional whimper from either of them. Robbe had closed his eyes as soon as he’d felt Sander push him back into the room, but as Sander’s mouth navigated to his neck, he took the time to look at their surroundings.

Sander had ushered them into a closet, buckets and mops laying all around as the air smelled distinctly of cleaning products. It was dark, the only light coming from the small crack under the closed door and Robbe could barely make out where he ended and where Sander started.

His train of thoughts was quickly interrupted by Sander’s teeth sinking into the delicate skin of his neck, pulling and sucking. His head fell back against the self as his eyes rolled back a little, overwhelmed with the sensations. He was really glad for Sander’s hands on his waist keeping him upright, because he was pretty sure they were about to give out.

As Sander kept sucking his way along Robbe’s neck, Robbe brought his hands down to the hem of Sander’s shirt, pulling a little. Sander seemed so absorbed in his task that he didn’t react to Robbe’s touch, forcing him to physically get Sander’s head away from his neck.

“Sander,” Robbe said, as Sander just grunted, clearly annoyed he’d been interrupted. “Sander. Shirt off.”

That seemed to wake Sander up from his daze, as he quickly got rid of his shirt, before removing Robbe’s in one swift move. The second Robbe’s shirt hit the floor, Sander’s mouth was already back on him, making its way down his chest.

Robbe had to stifle a moan with his hand when Sander got to the edge of his pants, sucking yet another bruise there. Sander was taking his time, clearly enjoying the way he could make Robbe squirm with his mouth.

Robbe’s hands had found a home in Sander’s hair, pulling especially hard to make Sander go faster. It had the reverse effect, as Sander slowed his sucking down to come soothe the mark with his tongue, licking slowly over Robbe’s skin.

Robbe whined a little, annoyed at how slow this was going. Sander chuckled, clearly amused at how eager Robbe was to move this along and decided he’d made Robbe suffer enough.

In an instant, his hands were on Robbe’s belt, struggling with the buckle for a few seconds before harshly pulling it out of its hoops and throwing it behind him carelessly. Sander hooked his fingers in both Robbe’s jeans and underwear, tugging them down in one swift move as he dropped to his knees.

Sander’s hands gripped Robbe’s waist hard, making sure he wasn’t going to move. As Robbe brought one of his hands to Sander’s neck, the other still twisted in his hair, he felt Sander breath heavy on his skin. He barely had a moment to register the heat before Sander’s mouth wrapped around him, all warm and wet. All Robbe could feel was pure bliss, closing his eyes shut as Sander moved his head back and forth.

He’d had sex with other guys before Sander, but right now, he couldn’t remember a single one of them. It was like Sander’s mouth had wiped his slate clean at the first flick of his tongue.

Robbe’s muscles ached from how hard he was clenching them, and he could feel his toe curling in his shoes. It was so unbelievably good that it had made Robbe forget all about the promise he’d made to himself.

That’s what Sander did to him, he made him throw all caution out the window and indulge himself in this bad, bad, mistake.

Because that’s what this was: a mistake.

As Sander moved his head a little faster, Robbe’s brain started screaming danger at him, making panic rise up in his chest.

“Sander. Sander! Wait, wait, wait, stop,” Robbe stuttered out, pushing at Sander’s shoulders.

Sander immediately pulled back, his eyes wide and worried. Robbe hurried to pull his pants back up, refusing to even look Sander’s way.

“Robbe?” Sander asked, voice low and careful.

He took a tentative step towards Robbe who immediately threw his hands up to stop him. “Don’t.” Robbe bent down to pick his shirt up, throwing it on carelessly. “It’s fine, I’m fine, I just have to… go.”

With that, he practically ran for the door, knocking over one of the mops on the way. Sander just stared at him, confusion, but mostly concern, written all over his face.

As he opened the door and stepped out, Robbe had to fight the urge to look back at Sander, instead choosing to swallow his shame and hurry out of the room, out of the corridor and out of the school.

----

After the complete humiliation that had been, Robbe swore to Milan he was never going to show his face again to uni. He was just going to have to change university, or even country, to make sure he’d never have to cross paths with Sander again. There was no other choice.

But there actually was another choice, which Milan kindly reminded him of.

Theo.

So, here Robbe was, nervously fiddling with his headphones as he queued at the small café where he knew Theo was working today. He knew that because he’d usually try to avoid coming in at this time, just so he’d be sure he wouldn’t be subjected to Theo’s flirting. Today, though, he was hoping for the exact opposite.

“Welcome to Café Het Hoekje, how may I—” Theo began, raising his head at the same time and coming to an abrupt stop as his gaze fell upon Robbe. “Oh! Robbe!”

He straightened up a bit, his bored expression transforming into a radiant smile. “Hey, how are you?”

Robbe ran a hand through his hair, a habit he couldn’t seem to shake, and smiled back at Theo. “Hey! Yeah, I’m good, you?”

Theo nodded enthusiastically, seeming overjoyed that Robbe cared enough to ask him how he’d been. That made Robbe’s stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Yeah, I mean, it was fine. I’m better now that you’re here.” Theo added, punctuating his sentence with a wink.

Robbe chuckled slightly, already wondering if he should just order coffee as usual, leave and forget all about his plan.

Theo leaned slightly on his forearms, shortening the safe distance the counter between the two of them provided.

“I missed you,” He said, whispering so only Robbe would hear.

Theo had always been very forward in his flirting and Robbe was more than expecting it, but he still blushed a little. It was now or never, so Robbe inhaled deeply, before putting on his most charming smile.

“Me too. Say, how about we grab some coffee after your shift?” Robbe asked, trying his hardest to stop his voice from shaking as he spoke. His mind was begging for him to stop, but Robbe simply ignored it, smiling a little more and shoving his hands inside his pockets so he’d stop playing with the hem of his jacket.

Theo’s face was almost comical, as his eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped open. He stayed frozen in place for a few seconds, as if he was expecting Robbe to laugh and say it was just a joke. Theo shook himself out of it, coughing awkwardly before immediately letting out a quick series of ‘yes.’

Robbe took pity on him, asking him when he was off and promising he’d be back for him then. Theo answered each question a beat too late, as if in a daze.

When Robbe made to leave the café, he heard Theo shout after him, half-walking, half-jogging up to him, a piece of paper in his hand.

“Robbe! Here, my number. Just in case,” he said, his tone assured, having clearly regained his confidence on his way over.

Robbe smiled, grabbing the paper and sliding it inside his pocket. He thanked Theo, who just winked at him again, before walking back towards the counter. Robbe watched him go, smiling a little to himself, proud that his plan had so easily worked. As he pushed through the door and breathed the soft outside air, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t going to regret this.

Sadly, that feeling didn’t last long. As soon as he sat down facing Theo, a steaming cup of cappuccino in his hands, the worries came back to him like a slap in the face. He was worried about hurting Theo, about getting over Sander, about not getting over Sander. The more he tried to forget about it, the more he ended up relating everything to him. It was like Sander had lodged itself in a corner of his mind and now refused to leave. He had a Sander shaped squatter in his brain and he was really getting fed up with it.

“Robbe?” Theo said, slowly, bringing Robbe out of his thoughts so abruptly he almost felt whiplash.

Robbe sent him a sorry smile, before asking him to, please , repeat what he’d said. Theo shook his head while laughing, as if Robbe had just told him something unbelievably funny. From the look in Theo’s eyes, Robbe wouldn’t doubt he thought Robbe was too absorbed by him and stopped listening to look. God, he felt like such a fucking asshole.

“I just asked how your classes were going,” Theo finally said, still wearing a proud smirk, not unlike the ones Sander sent him time after time. On Theo, however, it simply looked wrong. While it suited Sander, as if his face was molded to accomodate a smirk, Theo’s looked uncomfortably twisted.

“Yeah, I’m really busy, but other than that, it’s going fine,” Robbe answered, barely managing to lift the corner of his lips high enough to qualify for a smile. “I mean I have this really stressful exam thursday in the hall…”

Theo nodded solemnly at that. “Ah, semi-finals, right?” Robbe nodded, sighing a small ‘yeah.’ “When’s yours, in the morning?”

“Nah, thank God. I’m from one to four pm,” Robbe said, feeling his eyes drift to the side despite himself. They weren’t alone, but the café was empty enough that he probably wouldn’t be meeting anyone he knew. He was glad for that sense of intimacy, because he wasn’t sure he’d know how to explain what he was doing with ‘won’t-stop-flirting-with-me-please-help-jens-I’ll-literally-pay-you’ Theo to one of his friends.

Theo nodded again, sipping his own drink carefully. He opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to hesitate before any word could leave his mouth. He breathed deeply, as if to steel himself, and now Robbe was starting to get properly nervous.

“Look, Robbe, I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to be one hundred percent honest, alright?” Robbe gulped hard, nodding his head nonchalantly, despite his heart rising up to his throat. Theo knew. Somehow, he knew that Robbe was using him and this whole thing would fail.

“So… Do you, like, have a boyfriend?” Theo asked finally, refusing to meet Robbe’s eyes.

Robbe frowned, taking a few seconds to process what Theo had just asked him, before starting to laugh.

“A boyfriend? What? No way!” Robbe answered, stifling his laugh awkwardly with a slight cough.

Theo’s face lit up instantly, as he straightened his back and brought his eyes back to Robbe. Green eyes, just like Sander. Well, not nearly as beautiful.

“Oh? Great, that’s great! I just saw you with this guy at a few parties, so I thought…” Theo trailed off, scratching his neck.

Robbe furrowed his eyebrows, unsure he understood what Theo was talking about.

“Guy? What guy?”

Theo half-shrugged, giving Robbe a lopsided smile. “The blonde guy? From Arts?” Sander.

“Sander?” Robbe asked, prompting Theo to nod hesitantly. “God, no, Sander isn’t my boyfriend. I mean, we… you know, a couple of times, but there were zero feelings there.”

Theo laid his right hand over his heart, dramatically exhaling. “Good. That’d be too bad.”

Robbe smiled, giving him a small nod. Yeah… too bad .

----------

“No, Jens, you don’t understand. I had to order three cups just to make sure I wouldn’t fall asleep on him!” Robbe said, laughing along with the other boys.

Jens laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, giving him a serious look. “What about the plan then?”

Robbe sighed, shaking himself out of Jens’s grip. “Man, fuck the plan.”

That got him another round of laughs and a clap on the back from Moyo, whose approval didn’t actually feel good at all.

“It was a shit plan from the start, anyway,” Jens added. Robbe nodded vehemently, before plopping himself down next to him at the table.

Moyo clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “So, guys, time for serious matters now,” he paused, turning to look at each of their clueless faces, before he sighed and continued, “Tomorrow’s party, jongens!”

The three other boys cheered him on, Robbe included. A party was exactly what he needed to forget the Theo Fiasco. He’d get really, really drunk, so he could, one, not think about Theo and, two, not sleep with Sander in inadvertance. It was essentially a fool-proof plan.

“God I can’t wait to get laid!” Aaron said in a whiny voice, which only made everyone erupt in laughter again.

“Aaron, you’re as likely to get laid as Jens is to graduate in time,” Moyo said, laughing at his own joke as Aaron just looked away, defeated. Jens mocked him, saying Moyo wasn’t anywhere near any of those two things, which only resulted in Moyo’s protesting.

“Man, for someone who loves teasing so much, you really can’t take a joke,” Jens said, shaking his head with a smile.

Moyo smiled as well, shrugging. “A man’s gotta defend his honour, Jens.”

They all went back to their phone, scrolling aimlessly. Robbe was jumping from profile to profile on Instagram, trying to find anything that would capture his attention. When he fell upon a picture of Theo smiling with the caption ‘To new beginnings!’, he closed the app, shut his phone off and slid it in his pocket, sighing.

“Guys, who’s keeping the stash this time? I don’t want to have to run from the police again like last time because you’re a bunch of cowards,” Robbe said. At their last party, Moyo had gotten too scared and chucked the weed at him. A cop had seen the interaction and started approaching Robbe who, naturally, ran out of the back of the house. He heard shouts following him, but he just ran until he couldn’t feel his lungs, satisfied when he realized he’d lost the cop somewhere along the way.

Moyo groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “Can’t we just decide that at the party?” Robbe opened his mouth to retort, but he was immediately interrupted.

“Party? What party?”

Robbe’s head whipped to the side, only to find Theo, fucking Theo , standing right next to their table, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was clearly interrupting something.

Robbe turned towards Jens, sending him a panicked look, silently trying to convey that he shouldn’t mention the party. To his demise, Jens just smiled back at him, clearly intending to have some fun at Robbe’s expense.

“Hey Theo! Good to see you, man!” Jens said, exchanging a handshake with him. “We’re going to a party friday night, I’m sure Robbe told you all about it, right?”

If looks could kill, then Jens would be dead and buried, from the way Robbe was trying to drill holes into his skull with his stare.

Theo shifted uncomfortably on his feet, turning to Robbe in question. “Uh, no, he hadn’t?”

Fucking Jens. He was so going to pay for this.

Robbe tried to swallow back his anger as best as he could, before turning towards Theo and offering him a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, I was just about to text you, actually. D’you wanna come with?” Robbe asked, silently praying Theo would be otherwise occupied.

However, he could feel his hope shrivel up and die inside of him as Theo smiled brightly and nodded. “Yeah! Of course. I’ll pick you up around seven and we can pregame together?”

Robbe coughed, trying to hide his eagerness to end this conversation as he racked his brain for an excuse.

“Eh, I’m actually already pregaming with my friends, but I’ll meet you there?” Robbe said, hoping Theo wouldn’t try to get himself invited to the pre-party too.

Thankfully, he didn’t, smiling again, always , before agreeing to meet him there around nine.

As soon as Theo was out of earshot, Robbe turned to Jens furiously.

“Seriously Jens! You’re a fucking asshole!”

Jens just laughed, sending Robbe a look that suggested Robbe might have been an asshole too. Sighing, Robbe let his head drop in his arms, facing the table and closed his eyes.

“Fuck my life.”

-----------

Robbe hadn’t managed to get drunk at the pre-party like he’d planned to. The boys had hogged the beers at first, relenting a grand total of two beers to Robbe, claiming he had to be sober to meet Theo.

Robbe really needed to find new friends.

So, here he was, sitting on a couch with his third beer in, like, four hours, and bored out of his mind. He watched the people come and go, dancing in the middle of the room or making out in darkened corners. The walls were illuminated by a soft glow, emanating from tiny colourful led lights stuck all around. The stereo was playing some rap song Robbe didn’t know the name of, but he didn’t mind. He wasn’t even paying attention to the music.

Ever since they’d entered the party about half an hour earlier, Robbe had been on the lookout for a familiar strike of white. He hadn’t realized he’d been searching for him at first, but once he did, he chucked it off to habits and went to sit down where he was still currently sipping his drink.

He leaned his head backwards on the couch, closing his eyes slowly. Theo had texted him a few minutes ago that he was almost there, so Robbe’s peace was sure to be short-lived. He could try and escape, but he already felt like the biggest asshole on Earth, so he wasn’t going to also stand him up.

He’d meet Theo, have a few drinks with him and then excuse himself by making up some bullshit excuse and he’d go home to wallow in his own misery alone.

Feeling a light tap on his left shoulder, Robbe opened one of his eyes to peek at the person who’d decided to interrupt his small repose.

Theo , of course. At least now he could get this over with and get back to his bed.

“Hey! Sorry for the wait,” Theo greeted him, with his ever-lasting smile. Robbe wondered if he’d keep smiling if he told him why Robbe had even asked him out to begin with.

“No problem. I just…” Robbe gestured around him, unsure himself what exactly he was trying to say.

Theo sat next to him, their entire sides completely plastered to each other and Robbe felt a little like he was choking on air, and not in a good way.

They talked for a bit and in the time it took Robbe to even finish his beer, Theo had gone through more than a few unidentified sugary drinks, becoming more and more self-assured and talkative.

“Come dance!” Theo exclaimed, pulling on Robbe’s arm. Robbe shook his head, firmly sinking himself down further onto the sofa.

“No, no, I don’t dance”

Theo tutted him, unrelenting in his tugging. “Everyone dances! Come on, alsjeblieft…” Theo pouted, probably aiming to convince Robbe with his puppy eyes. The truth was, Robbe had invented that trick and he wasn’t about to be swayed by an amateur. However, he was tired and he had an inkling that Theo wouldn’t stop until he got Robbe up on that dancefloor.

So, up he went.

The song had moved on to something more upbeat and clubby, but Robbe couldn’t make his limbs move in any way that resembled dancing unless he was properly hammered, which, again, he wasn’t.

Theo really didn’t seem to mind though, as he was dancing closer and closer to Robbe. As Theo’s hands came in contact with Robbe’s skin, his own hands instinctively rose up to the other’s hair.

He tried to push his thoughts away, but he couldn’t help comparing it to what he knew best: Sander. Theo’s hair was shorter and while it was well kept, it lacked the distinctive softness Sander’s had. It didn’t please Robbe’s fingers the way Sander’s did and when he tugged on the strands a little, the sound that escaped Theo’s mouth filled Robbe with disappointment. It didn’t make him hot all over, it didn’t make him want to burrow his fingers even deeper, no, instead Robbe had to fight the urge to pull his hands back entirely.

When Theo brought one of his hands to Robbe’s neck, guiding his head towards him and leaning in, it took everything in Robbe not to push him away. Their lips met harshly, but it didn’t feel like it should. Like he knew it would with a certain someone else.

As their lips glided together, the kiss felt sloppy and where Robbe couldn’t get enough of Sander’s hands on him, Theo’s felt scorching and bruising. Theo pushed a little forward, trying to deepen their kiss, but Robbe leaned his head back and away a little to prevent access.

This didn’t seem to dether Theo, however, who just slowly slid his mouth on Robbe’s jaw, all the way to his neck. Robbe felt a little dazed, as if he was having an out of body experience. He could feel Theo pull onto a small bit of skin on his neck with his teeth, but he didn’t get the wave of pleasure that usually came with it. It wasn’t painful, it just… wasn’t very much. When Sander would get a hold of his neck, however… Robbe was pretty sure he could come simply from Sander sucking hickeys onto him.

Theo bit a little harder, probably trying to get some kind of reaction from Robbe. Robbe brought his hands up, intending to detach Theo from where he was sucking like a leech at his neck, but before he could reach Theo, he felt him back away quickly.

Confused, Robbe blinked a few times to make the room clearer. That’s when he saw that Theo hadn’t backed away, he’d been quite literally rippedaway from Robbe.

By none other than the blonde who’d been occupying Robbe’s brain himself.

“What the fuck, man!?” Theo shouted at Sander, panting as he tried to regain control of his breathing.

Sander wasn’t paying him any attention, though, all of his focus being on Robbe. He looked a little disheveled, his hair in disarray and his pupils blown. Robbe had seen him in a similar state before, but it was usually while they were right about to have sex, pleasure and anticipation written all over his features. Now, all he could see on Sander’s face was a heart-wrenching mixture of anger and betrayal.

“Sander? What… Why...?” Robbe started, unable to find the right words to voice his thoughts.

Sander’s gaze bore into Robbe’s and it was painful to maintain, but Robbe was unable to tear his eyes away, in a trance-like state.

Theo’s voice shook him out of it, cutting through the tension like a sharp knife.

“So you’re Sander, I thought that was you too, with the whole…” Theo looked Sander up and down with a slight scrunch of his nose. “Moody thing going on.”

Sander finally turned his head towards him, his jaw clenching as soon as his eyes landed on Theo.

“Stay away from this.” He turned back to Robbe, clearly unbothered by Theo’s presence. “I knew you were an ass—”

Theo cut him off, now sounding angry as well. “Just because Robbe doesn’t have feelings for you doesn’t mean you get to insult him like this.”

Robbe knew he should intervene, prevent the situation from escalating, but he felt frozen in place. His brain was in overdrive and he just felt like running away, but his legs refused to obey. So, he stared, helpless, as they bickered on.

“Ok, who the fuck are you exactly?” Sander growled at Theo, rising the volume of his voice even more. By now, they were practically screaming and Robbe was thankful for the loud music covering the exchange from prying ears.

Theo puffed his chest out a little, a gesture which would have made Robbe laugh under any other circumstance, staring right at Sander as he said, “His date. Who are you ?”

Sander’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline at the bold answer, but the surprise on his traits was soon replaced by conceit. He smirked, quirking his mouth in just the right way to seem insolent and charming at the same time.

To anyone else, Sander might have looked like he was going to make a silly joke, but Robbe knew him better than that.

“I’m the guy who had him screaming under me more times than I can count, but I guess Robbe failed to mention that, hm?” Sander answered, turning to Robbe, wearing his most innocent smile. “Right, Robbe?”

Robbe looked away, unwilling to play into Sander’s game, but also unable to deny what he’d said.

Sander turned back to Theo, whose face had turned completely red, both from embarrassment and anger, Robbe guessed.

“No, really, was it not a problem for you? I got worried my neighbours would send a formal complaint,” Sander laughed, dryly, his tone void of humour. At the sight of Theo’s reddened face and Robbe’s avoiding eyes, something lit up in Sander’s eyes, as if he’d just made the link he needed to deliver the last blow.

“Oh, have you not…? Oh, well that’s awkward, isn’t it?” Sander smiled, as Theo took a step towards him. Instead of backing away, Sander gave him a little pout, before letting out a small ‘Oops?’ that suggested he was anything, but sorry.

Robbe felt like he was boiling inside with shame, but, more than anything, he wanted this whole thing to be over. As he raised his foot to take a step between the two boys, he was cut off by Theo’s fist flying towards Sander.

Robbe let out a small scream, but Theo missed Sander by a good few inches. Robbe was about to sigh in relief, thankful Theo wasn’t sober, when he saw Sander reel his own arm back.

It happened like in slow motion. Robbe, standing there, dumbfounded, as Sander punched Theo square in the jaw, making him stumble a few steps to the side. Some blood fell into Theo’s hand and the mere sight of it sprung Robbe into action.

“Enough!” He screamed, making both boys turn to him. “You’re acting like two fucking macho idiots! You guys keep fighting it out, I don’t care, I’m going the fuck home.”

With that, Robbe turned on his heels, pushing through the swarms of bodies and heading straight for the door. He stomped his way down the alley, angry at Theo, at Sander, but mostly at himself.

As he reached the street, he could hear his name being called from behind, but he didn’t stop. He kept going, satisfied when the screaming stopped following him. He slowed down, feeling so overwhelmed he thought he might start to cry. As he came to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk, a familiar hand wrapped around his wrist, gently, but firmly turning him around.

It was Sander, of course it was. The only thing that kept Robbe from wretching his arm away from Sander’s hold was the creases of worry that were etched into his forehead. The anger from earlier was gone and the emotions whirling in Sander’s eyes gripped and pulled at Robbe’s heart.

“Robbe…” Sander started. His tone was low and calm, almost tender in the way it’d been last time when Robbe had  freaked out in the closet. It pained Robbe, probably a lot more than anger would have.

“Sander. I’m tired, ok, I just… Can we just not fight for one night?” Robbe pleaded, truly feeling like his bones suddenly weighed more than they should. He was tired, tired of this, tired of not knowing, tired of the push-and-pull, just so tired.

Sander stared at him for a beat, staying silent. Robbe sighed, starting to pull his arm away, but Sander held on.

“I don’t want to fight,” Sander said quickly, as if he was worried Robbe would run away if he took one second too long to answer. Robbe wasn’t even sure he had the energy left to walk, let alone run.

“Then what, Sander?” Robbe asked, trying to sound annoyed, but ending up somewhere between fatigue and worry.

This time it was Sander’s turn to sigh, running his free hand through his strands of hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally, making sure he held Robbe’s gaze as he spoke. “For what I said, in there. I’m not sorry I punched that asshole,” Robbe gave him a warning look, but Sander just winked and kept going.

“I’m not. He deserved it. But I am sorry for what I said about you. I was angry and I had no right to say that. I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.”As soon as he was done talking, Sander averted his eyes , refusing to see Robbe’s reaction to his words.

Robbe wasn’t sure what he was meant to think, but he knew one thing: he was exhausted of thinking.

So, he did the first thing that went through his mind, stepping closer to Sander and latching onto his lips.

Sander immediately responded, pressing back against Robbe’s lips. Their usual kisses were heated and filled with urgency, but this one was anything but. Their lips met softly and they kissed leisurely, savoring every second of it. As Sander’s hands came to their spot on Robbe’s waist, their creases almost imprinted there, Robbe broke the kiss off slowly. He quickly pecked Sander’s lips one more time, making the corner of his mouth twitch upwards.

“Come over?” Robbe asked, whispering. He felt like a single loud noise could shatter the bubble they made in the alley.

Sander rubbed his nose with Robbe’s softly, breathing out a ‘yes’ in the air between them.

The walk over to Robbe’s apartment was slow. They walked side by side, stopping from time to time to steal a kiss or two. Their smile was permanent and the air between them felt playful and void of its usual tension. Yet, it didn’t feel like anything was missing, on the contrary. Robbe felt full and light, as he raced Sander for the last mile to his front door.

Robbe won, obviously, but his words lacked their usual bite when he called Sander ‘slow as fuck’. They made their way upstairs, Robbe constantly having to shush Sander who was tripping over the stairs from trying to get up first.

“Sander!” Robbe screamed in a hushed voice, “I have roommates, be quiet!”

Sander only turned around briefly to offer him a toothy grin, before he’d go right back to his antics. Robbe laughed along, following him inside the apartment and all the way to his bedroom.

They took their shoes and jackets off, throwing them carelessly on the floor. Sander walked towards Robbe, making him take steps backwards until his knees hit the bed. He smirked up at Sander as he let himself fall ungraciously on the bed. Sander laughed, maneuvering him around a bit to comfortably climb over.

Sander’s face appeared right above Robbe’s, both smiling at each other like idiots. Sander raised his hand, slowly bringing it to Robbe’s face. He caressed the side of his face slowly, settling his palm over his jaw, right where the disappearing bruise of their distant fight remained.

Sander bent down, wetting his lips with his tongue right before he met Robbe’s mouth. That kiss was just like the one they’d shared outside of the party, slower and softer than their usuals, but just as passionate. Robbe brought his hand to Sander’s hair, tucking a strand behind his ear before brushing his fingers through it.

The familiar feeling made him smile into their kiss, which in turn made Sander lean his head back, one eyebrow raised in question.

“I missed your hair,” Robbe half-whined, tucking on a few strands to demonstrate his point. Sander snorted, resting his forehead on Robbe’s.

“Only my hair? I’m hurt,” Sander teased, but Robbe winced, hearing the honesty behind the banter.

Robbe held Sander’s entire face between his two palms, locking it in place. “No. I missed you too.” Robbe said, hoping that Sander could hear the honesty in his voice too.

Robbe saw something twitch in Sander’s eyes, like a crack in the wall he’d carefully built around himself. Sander nodded, serious, before his lips curved into yet another smirk.

“Oh, yeah? Any parts of me in particular?”

Robbe smiled, pretending to think it over. Sander took advantage of Robbe’s distraction to slide his free hand under his shirt, stroking his skin softly. Robbe’s muscles shifted under Sander’s palm and Robbe let out an involuntary gasp, making Sander look at him proudly.

“Yeah, your hands,” Robbe said quietly.

Sander smiled even more. “What else?” He asked, now bringing both hands under Robbe’s shirt, lifting it up slightly. Robbe curved his back a little to help Sander pull the shirt off. Robbe tucked at Sander’s shirt, removing it swiftly so he could have Sander’s hands on him again.

Without breaking eye contact, Sander lowered himself until his head was over Robbe’s chest, pressing his lips right above his stomach as he trailed his way down with open-mouthed kisses. Robbe sighed with satisfaction, sinking further in the mattress.

Suddenly, as Sander started sucking a bruise on his hip, Robbe remembered the singular hickey Theo had been trying to etch into his skin earlier. Tugging on Sander arms’, Robbe brought him back up to face him. Sander’s eyebrows were furrowed, probably wondering why Robbe was interrupting him.

“On my neck,” Robbe said, pointing the general direction of where Theo had been attached to his neck.

A look of recognition passed through Sander’s eyes as he looked at Robbe’s neck. Still, he asked, “Are you sure?”

Robbe nodded, giving a small smile as he admitted quietly, “I like yours better”.

Sander smiled brightly at Robbe, before diving back in. The second Sander started sucking on Robbe’s skin, Robbe knew it was right. His whole body lit up, a fire burning in his stomach, flames licking all the way up his body as Sander licked his way down.

Once Sander’s hands made it to Robbe’s jeans, it was a quick affair. Both of their pants were discarded in a matter of seconds, underwears quick to follow. Sander began to lower himself, stopping short of Robbe’s skin.

“This is ok, right?” Robbe nodded rapidly, whispering a small “Yeah, more than ok,” with a smile.

Sander grinned back, licking his lips before wrapping them around Robbe.

Robbe let out a small whimper as Sander started working his way up and down in precise motions. As he clenched his hands in Sander’s hair, Robbe felt a thick mist envelop his thoughts.

Hands sliding over skin, rough and needy.

Lips envelopping, soft and comforting.

Hair being tugged, harsh yet soothing.

And love being made, bruising yet tender.

Once they were both lying next to each other, blissed out and still trying to catch their breath, Robbe turned on his side, facing Sander.

“Your mouth,” Robbe said, hushed.Sander just hummed in question, unmoving.“You asked what else I’d missed. Your mouth, I’d missed your mouth.” Robbe admitted, smiling softly to himself.

That made Sander turn his head towards Robbe. He smiled too, idly caressing Robbe’s face.

“I missed your dick, mostly,” Sander said.Robbe chuckled and playfully pushed at his shoulder. Sander simply brought his arm over Robbe’s waist, bringing him even closer to his body. Robbe raised his head, laying it on Sander’s chest, right over his heart. The sound of his heartbeat, still a little too fast, was soothing and Robbe felt himself slowly slip into unconsciousness.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, Sander’s voice brought him back to the surface.

“Robbe?”

Robbe hummed, physically unable to move a single muscle.

“This, tonight… This means something right? Something more?” Sander asked, his voice laced with insecurities in a way that broke Robbe’s heart a little.

So, he snuggled closer, laying a small kiss over Sander’s heart before settling back down. “Yes,” he breathed, “It does.”

Robbe felt Sander shift a little under him, just as a kiss was laid atop his head.

And there, as they laid cuddled up together in Robbe’s bed, there was no doubt in Robbe’s mind that what he felt for Sander was so very far from hatred.

So, so very far.

[mannien]

Mornings in Sheffield Park | TH - CHAPTER 1

The one with stress, takeout food around the world, late night walks, and Disney dreams.

Word count: 6.6k 

Warnings: some stress, some anxiety, mention of sex, and a lot of smiles

Masterlist

Fourth week into the morning pitch meetings at BBC, Millie felt lifeless and drained. The room was usually exploding with ideas, creative energy, and a lot of constructive feedback to the few interns who were allowed to join the conversation with editors, writers, and producers. That morning had started ugly enough for her: with an overwhelming number of e-mails about the schedule and missing content for Politics Live.

When she first landed her spot at BBC, Millie was over the moon. She was constantly calling it a dream come true, a once in a lifetime opportunity for her to begin a writing career in media. Her degree seemed to be the best choice for her future and Millie was ready to prove that graduating from humanities can actually land her a decent job. Her first days were filled with morning preparations, early commute to the city centre and exceptionally smoothed out shirts. The work environment in such a fast-paced industry felt inspiring and daunting at the same time, but Millie felt obligated to use this experience to its full potential. Each day she attempted to learn more than the day before and possibly show off a tiny bit more of her creative skills to her superiors. She spent her evenings researching topics and people, trying not to fall out of the loop. Being one step forward was hard work, one that Millie desperately wanted to ace.

The second week of her internship brought a slight shift to her agenda. After grasping the general concepts of working for a major radio and TV broadcasting company, she was aware of the production processes. She tried to happily follow up all the details about the work of a writer, a researcher, or an editor – just so she could be prepared for the follow-up of the introductory week. And as she hoped her interview was remembered and she would soon contribute to any program touching upon music or pop culture, her dreams and calls were slowly fading away. The intern manager ascribed her to the team devoted strictly to politics and daily news, having no vacancies for the popular radio programs. Even though she took whatever spot was offered, it was only to get more insight and experience.  

Having already managed to speak up a few times during the morning routines in the conference room, Millie eased herself into the work environment and was treated like a regular employee. But the first wave of success quickly passed, especially when she was hit with growing emptiness in her brain. She did not enjoy politics, so as far as she could, she attempted to sneak in a sociological aspect into the context. But her tactic had an expiration date.

A couple of heads were expectantly turned at Millie when she was unsurely stuttering her weak ideas for the upcoming programme. She knew it wasn’t going well and she was mentally cursing herself for trying to impress the producers that much so early on.

“This isn’t gonna work. We’ve covered this enough in the evening news. Let’s take five, and maybe you’ll come up with a different angle. I’ll give you another shot here.”

Hugh, the head writer took off his glasses and watched her fidget in her seat. She nodded and took a deep breath, before leaving the room for a short break. Her mind was racing in panic; she wasn’t ready to admit that she didn’t have any idea. She walked back and forth through the corridor until she cursed quietly and walked away to the main hall. She pulled her phone from the back pocket and without overthinking this anymore, she called her boyfriend. He picked up after the third ring.

“Babe, can I call you back…”

“No, Frank,” She felt determined and fierce. Her hands shook from the pure view on board members slowly coming back from the kitchen with fresh coffee mugs. They were probably waiting to hear her another take on the TV show which Millie, wholeheartedly, was beginning to hate. “My work on the programme is too basic and I’ve been roasted for the past fifteen minutes or so. Hugh has me in the spotlight in front of everyone. Help me, please?”

“It’s not your fault they’ve given you a job you’re not good at, babe. It’s just an internship, they will roast you anyway.”

Millie’s lungs were ready to stop working and suffocate her. She feared she might start hyperventilating, or at least meet up with a panic attack from the nerves. Franklin’s reaction seemed to be absolutely unfair and inconsiderate of her actual feelings, and he must have felt that through the piercing silence on the line.

“Look, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t worry so much about it. They will probably just give you another placement where you’ll fit more, I don’t see why it’s such a bad thing.” And just like that, she started doubting herself and her right to overthink her situation. It didn’t sit well with Millie and she could feel anger slowly making its way through her veins.

“Can’t you just fucking help me? This one time?” She lost her temper, she lost her patience. At the same time Riley, one of the end writers, started waving at her from the end of the hall as to show her that her time is coming to an end. “I need a hook, or something that would spark a debate. Brexit-themed, maybe. Can you think of anything?”

Frank groaned loudly. He wasn’t exactly happy that she made him break down his ambitious wall and let her in on topics he was too invested in. Millie could hear him moving around as he left his desk of the equally large office of The Guardian, until the line went surprisingly quiet. Her anger and fear made her clutch her phone tightly to her ear, while her legs started carrying her slowly to the terrifying conference room.

“Think internationally. See what the Spanish had to say about May’s resignation from the Office. Think economics in the EU. Try to stand on the Union’s side and do some fair judgement.”

“Give me facts, not ideas. You’re the one who knows politics.”

“Spanish government says that May’s resignation is bad news. Compare it to the popular opinion that she was the worst Prime Minister since the 18th century and the American war on independence.” Millie breathed in, trying to desperately grasp all the details he just provided her with.

“That’s a… harsh and history-digging argument,” She mumbled in surprise, “where did you get that from?” She grabbed a yellow post-it note from the reception desk and quickly scribbled the key words on it. Her briefing on politics was never something like this and she could feel the embarrassment making its way into her heart. It wasn’t her way of thinking and she felt like a fraud.

“I can’t tell you that.” By the end of the single sentence Millie could feel the blood escaping her face, making her look pale and scared for dear life. She didn’t want to have heard that sentence, she was definitely happier not knowing how did he come up with a story like this. That was one of the many reasons she tried not to talk business with him.

“An opinion entry. A column for The Guardian. Shit, you just busted one of your colleagues.”

“Sometimes I hate it that you’re smart. Did I ever tell you that?”

“You just saved my internship!”

“Please don’t say that. I will pretend that we just talked about the weather.”          

“I’ll spend them the details. You’re the best, Frank.”

“Alright, go kick ass.”

And that she did. Franklin did save her internship, mainly because Millie avoided the specifics about who and why said something so harsh about the resigning Prime Minister. However, it definitely did spark interest among the production board. Afraid of not being so lucky next time, she decided to politely suggest a replacement for her permanent internship division within BBC, due to her ‘personal discomfort with discussions over issues of such importance and potential shame to their glorious country.’

Millie felt bad for using her boyfriend’s knowledge for survival at work. She wasn’t genuine and her idea didn’t come from her hard work - it was sourced in fear and anxiety-driven reactions. This situation proved to her that she wasn’t fit for the position, but it also raised her stress levels around the fact that she couldn’t get by on her own in the industry. She didn’t want others to navigate her through it all, but the conversation she had with Frank had also made her uncomfortable. Her need of support in a stressful situation was primarily turned down, so—naturally to her character—she started to worry even more.

With a heavy heart and two bags of Wagamama takeout, she walked up the stairs to his apartment. She was usually working until later hours than Frank, so all she really needed was for him to open the door for her. She leaned on the doorframe as she waited patiently for the two turns of the lock. He opened still in his work attire – tailored jeans and a light grey button up shirt. He was holding his phone next to his ear and humming approvingly to the speaker when he looked her up and down. He winked at her and let her in, as he continued to talk with someone.

Inside, Millie found the TV turned on with a football game playing. His work jacket was still hanging on the back of the tall stool in the kitchen, and the grocery bags laid unpacked on the table. She took off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen, where she made a little room for their food on the countertop. Pulling off her sweater, she peeked into the shopping bags – she wasn’t surprised to find a couple bottles of beer and food essentials, a multipack of tissues and a large box of condoms.

“What’s all this, babe?” Franklin came up to her and briefly kissed her on the lips, before looking into the boxes with deliciously smelling food.

“I just thought it might be nice to eat some goodies,” She smiled, trying to sniff out his mood first. He smiled back at her with approval and reached for the plates in the cupboard, so she continued, “also, it’s a ‘thank you for being my saviour today,’ kinda thing.”

“Ah, yeah. I bet everyone on my floor will hate BBC’s guts for that.” Frank said it so casually, with a shrug to follow up, that Millie struggled to understand the dynamic he had at The Guardian. He seemed to be a great fit for his team, because a week into his new job, he was already invited for Friday drinks and talked about his co-workers just like anyone would about their long-time friends. She couldn’t understand how was he getting so lucky at any step, but the last thing she wanted to do is doubt him. Any time worries and competitiveness clouded her brain, Millie was making extra room for compassion and support.

Frank unloaded some of the curry on his plate and started eating with a fork, and then made his way to the living room where he spread out on the sofa. He didn’t say anything else, somewhat scaring Millie that he will let her know he’s uncomfortable randomly, on a promisingly good day. Trying to figure out her brain, she followed his actions and took some extra food to the coffee table, before sitting down next to him.

“But you’re not gonna get into trouble for that, are you?” she was biting the inside of her cheek hard, definitely not used to not being judged for using someone else’s help.

“Nah, I don’t think so. They don’t know I’ve got a girl at BBC, so I should be just fine.”

Millie ate her curry in silence, suddenly at loss of words driven by his surprising statement. She didn’t want to raise an argument or seem overly sensitive. But for some reason she hoped that he would talk about her at work, especially considering his already formed strong bonds in the office, and a definitely higher success rate in his position. Ever so charming Franklin, he always glowed among people. She couldn’t really fight with this, so she just kept any comments to herself and focused on her food.

Frank switched the channel to the evening news and pulled her to his side once they were done eating. It comforted Millie to know that at the end of the day, they could both enjoy each other’s company, no matter what was happening at work. She didn’t pay much attention to the news, but rather focused on the way he reacted to it and what he enjoyed. She felt too tired to get invested in another load of politics, so she just soaked in his warmth and curled more into his side. He smelled of coffee and heavy, musky cologne that he liked to reapply frequently. Millie closed her eyes and breathed out the stress that weighed her down after a long day, finally finding peace.

“I’ll go grab a beer, you want one?” he abruptly stood up, making her slightly loose her balance and lean back towards the pillows. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips in a thin line.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“You sure? You’re awfully quiet today.” He spoke already from the kitchen, not even catching a glimpse of her pursed lips.

“I just need to wind down. It’s been stressful day.” She pushed a little smile on her cheeks as he came back with a frown. He took a few large sips of his drink and put it on the table, before lowering himself on the couch and leaning over Millie.

“I can help you relax, if you want.” He raised an eyebrow in a flirtatious manner, leaning into her and leaving a series of delicate kisses on her lips. He then moved onto her jaw and sucked on her skin, but never left a mark. Slowly massaging her waist, he slid his hand under her shirt and sprawled his fingers across her hip to pull her closer.

Millie enjoyed the warmth that started to spread through her body, but she couldn’t find any energy to give some of it back. She felt drained and exhausted, so a mere thought about participating in sexual activities was sure to make her at least slightly uncomfortable. Unless Frank was willing to change something about it.

“Okay, hold on,” her chuckle and a light push at his chest made him narrow his eyebrows in confusion, “I don’t think I’ve got enough energy today, Frankie.” Her whisper was followed by a reassuring smile. She weaved her fingers through his short hair and kissed the tip of his nose.

“What if I provide you with some energy first?”

“What, you’ll give me an energy drink?” She laughed at her poor joke and he chuckled, too, but more at her silliness than anything else. He laid her down comfortably and cautiously peppered her with kisses on her neck and the tiny bit of cleavage that was available without unbuttoning her shirt. She was slowly giving in, allowing him to get lower on her body and touch her. Frank either wanted to make her feel better, or was really horny. But whatever the case was, she didn’t want to stop him and ruin his enthusiasm. The glow in his eyes and admiration painted across his face were too intoxicating to back away. His touch was filled with sparks of emotions and a kind of drive that Millie was addicted to. She felt wanted and needed, and that’s what made her return the heated kisses despite her hooded, weary eyes.

They walked hand in hand through the chilly evening, sometime after she persuaded Frank to walk her to the nearest tube station. The wind was slightly tickling her neck, but other than that she felt at peace. She let her hair down, flowing gently with each blow of the air and lightly caressing her face like a safety blanket. They swayed their hands until they had to make room for a group of people passing by.

“Jane texted me about a little get together this Friday,” She mumbled into the night, trying not to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere around them.

“Ah, yeah. Aaron told me about it, too. I guess we’re going, right?”

“Yeah, it might be nice. The girls mentioned this new club near their apartment? I think that’s where they wanted to go.”

“Cool. I could use a little break.”

As they continued their walk, Millie mostly focused on leading the way through tight London streets. Franklin’s parents rented him an apartment in the city centre, close to everything you could dream of in London. It also meant crowded streets at any hour, so to have a nice walk around the neighbourhood usually requested it to be late at night. But it didn’t matter to him, as long as he had a short commute to the office and all other things that life requested from him, within reach. There were times when he would mention coming back to Manchester and supporting his parents at their law firm, but Millie saw how much he preferred his growing career as a journalist. Mathilda and William were a generous couple, so they shared their resources with him and tried to help him get into the business as smoothly as possible. Sometimes she wanted to ask him about his permanent position at The Guardian and whether his name had anything to do with it, but she never felt comfortable enough to do it. Some things were better left unspoken.

Reaching the staircase to the station, Franklin stopped and made her turn to him and look up at his smiling face.

“Thanks for coming over tonight. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too.” She smiled shyly, nodding her head in reassurance.

“I wish you could finally move to the city, though. It would be so much easier if you were a few blocks away.”

“You do realize that even if I moved out, it wouldn’t be anywhere nearby?” Her chuckle resonated through her body, almost as if she wanted to humour herself at the topic that had started to come up more often in their conversations.

“I could ask around the office if anyone has a room available to rent.”

“But I don’t want to share my personal space with strangers, you know this. Don’t try to change my mind about it.” She smiled tightly.

Frank has been trying to persuade her into moving out for months. He wanted to be closer to her, within a short train journey, rather than a whole commute in and out of Kingston. He felt comfortable in the business of London, and Millie liked to call him out on being spoiled by having an apartment on his own in such a lively part of the city. But she wasn’t financially ready to leave her family home in equally comfortable Southwest London, where she had all she needed within her reach, and her social life was just a tiny bit longer train trip away. It was a source of their small disputes from time to time, because it was Millie who spent more time on going to his place and spending time there. Naturally, it made her feel more engaged in their relationship and Frank tried his best make up for the difference. But one thing that never occurred, was Millie staying over for longer than a night. Even a night’s sleepover was a rare event, somehow always blessed by excuses from either one of them.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he pecked her lips and brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I talk about it out of concern, okay?”

“Okay. But I like my train rides and I like Kingston. So let’s just deal with it for now, yeah?”

“’Course,” He sent her a tight smile before giving her one last kiss. “Text me when you get home.”

“Will do.”

Millie was one of those people who could be easily judged as thinkers. Years of taking trains and buses in and out of central London taught her to cherish every moment of peace she gets during her journeys. That’s how she learned to create playlists for each season – summer commutes were always different than autumn ones; they required different sounds and lyrical quality. Intense months during university semesters also showed her how to read fast between the stops and how to juggle standing on the tube and holding an open book without falling, as the train slowed and rushed every few seconds.

As she was approaching her station in Kingston, she stopped the music but kept her earphones in. A bunch of other people was hurrying to get out of the train and get home as soon as possible, but after leaving the station, she would have a lonely 15-minute walk to her neighbourhood, so she always tried to stay alert in the evenings. Getting on the sidewalk in the busiest area of Kingston, she closed her book and put it back in her backpack, pulled the jacket tighter around her middle and continued her steady walk.

The air was getting crispier with each minute outside. It was refreshing and calm, disturbed only by a few laughs from the pub across the street and two cars passing her by. She turned into one of the quieter streets, where the buildings were becoming shorter and more separated from each other. Brick fences and trimmed hedges adorned the concrete sidewalks on both sides of the street, illuminated only by a few lanterns. Most of the light was coming from the windows in a row of semi-detached houses that Millie has known for a good chunk of her life.

Right when she wanted to cross the street and take a right, she heard a subtle clicking of a dog collar and a leash. Soft padding from the back was slowly approaching her and becoming louder, as well as someone’s whistle.

“Tess, come here!” a hushed call didn’t disrupt the peace of the night, but rather added the familiarity that Millie adored. She slowed her walk and turned around, just in time to be met with lightly jogging blue Staffordshire Bull Terrier. She panted lightly with her tongue out and reached Millie’s legs, where she tucked her head and mewled timidly.

“Oh, and who do we have here?” Millie chuckled at the dog’s persistence in keeping close. She scratched her head and patted her on the back, “are you on your evening walk, Tessa? Is that right?”

“We didn’t mean to scare you, Millie,” Dominic reached them and sent Millie a kind and apologetic smile, “good evening.”

“Hi, it’s good to see you.” She beamed at the middle-aged man, whom she learned to adore like a family member.

“Likewise, yeah. Heading home?”

“I am, just got off the train.”

“We will keep you company, then. Is that alright?” He fixed his glasses and leaned down to attach the leash to Tessa’s collar. Millie’s insides warmed and her mind calmed down at the idea that she will get to spend a few minutes with a friend.

“Absolutely, thank you.”

“Ah, don’t mention it. I bet Tom would have my head, hadn’t I offered,” they chuckled at the mention of his son. Their laughter died off comfortably and escaped into the night air, while Millie reminisced about the caring nature of the Hollands. “How is it going at BBC?” he asked after a moment, letting her go first through a narrow passage.

“It’s… going,” she smiled shyly, not sure how to dress up her words. In Dominic’s company she always felt one step behind in her creative skills; his writing and comic abilities exceeded her capabilities, or so she thought. “but I feel like I’ve definitely hit an end with politics. I know it’s only been a month, but it’s just… it keeps on proving that I should be writing about something else.”

“Oh, it’s totally understandable. Rest assured, you’re not the only one stuck like this,” They turned the corner onto her street. “but I wish you luck there. They have some sensible editors, so I assume you’ll get a chance at something else as well.”

“I hope so. Today I asked them about switching departments and the intern manager told me she will think about it, so there is a tiny light.”

“Something will always work out. You’re smart, you’ll find your way there.”

Dom and Millie continued down the sidewalk, until Tessa stopped near the gate to Millie’s house. She sniffed the pavement and turned back to the girl who crouched down to pet the Staffy one last time.

“Thanks for walking with me,” her smile was genuine, coming straight from her heart. “please say hi to Nikki and the boys. Is Sam still home?”

“He is, he starts his practice at the end of June. So, we all will be here to celebrate your birthdays.”

“Oh, that’s great! It’s been a while since we’ve all been together.”

“That’s true. But you’re welcome to stop by anytime.”

“I know, thank you.” With fondness painted across her face, she scratched Tessa’s ear and stood up straight, reaching for the keys in her pocket.

“Have a good night.”

“You too. Bye, Tess!”

Whenever she got the chance to interact with someone from their family, Millie instantly felt their love and care penetrate her straight to the core. It was this kind of relationship that had been built through the years, only making it stronger and bringing it closer to the concept of family.

Nikki, Dom’s wife and Anna, Millie’s mother met shortly before Millie and Tom were born. At first only neighbours, soon they became best friends to the point of engaging their families in a kind affair. Greetings at the doorstep turned into late night family dinners and weekends away with the kids. They were used to spending most of the birthdays and holidays together, especially when Millie and Tom’s birthdays two days apart brought them all closer. She raced her best friend in Anna’s womb and came out to this world right before the brown-haired boy. Ever since the Beavers celebrated the birth of their third and youngest daughter, the Hollands began their journey with four boys. They always stayed close and treated each other like family, deeming it necessary to nourish their friendship and turn it into something everlasting. The example of their parents taught Millie and Tom to mimic the closeness and made them create their own little world.

Millie’s older sisters also treated Tom, Harry, Sam and Paddy like brothers, but not as much as Millie did. Samantha and Liz were already grown toddlers when the families got together, so they figured more as the female patrons of their youngest sister and her adventures with the boys. But Millie and Tom’s friendship turned into something so effortless and harmless that no supervision was necessary. They were each other’s partners in crime, best friends from next door. Their mothers had signed them up for the same dance classes, helped them get to the same summer carnivals, and let them have late nights in makeshift dens. Millie was one of the first people their dog, Tessa, got familiar with. She missed him dearly when he started his journey as a young actor, but Nikki made sure he always made the time to call his best friend when the time zones were somewhat cooperating. They nurtured their friendship through Millie’s education and Tom’s career, not stopping even for a moment. He was there for her always, carrying her home when she scratched her knee after falling off the slings. She would help him with homework whenever he felt too embarrassed to ask his parents. Tom escorted her home from her disaster of a prom; he was the first one to understand her anxiety and help her through it. And Millie always read the books and scripts Tom needed to prepare for auditions. Just like that, they always found home in one another.

           Their house smelled of baking and freshly watered plants. As quietly as possible, Millie took off her shoes and tip-toed into the kitchen, turning on only the least invasive, small lights. She put down her backpack and lightly stretched, letting out a tired, yet content breath. Her eyes scanned the kitchen in search for the source of the sweet scent, and there it was, on a cooling rack in the corner, covered with a tea towel – fresh lemon sponge cake, the favourite of Millie’s mother. Lightly dusted with powdered sugar, it added an extra layer of sweet comfort to the late night’s atmosphere. She left the cake untouched, but put the kettle on to quickly make herself a cup of tea for a good night’s sleep. She let out an overwhelming yawn and rested her hips on the side of the countertop, patiently waiting for the water to boil.

           She felt her phone vibrate in the back pocket of her jeans. The brightness of the screen was almost blinding, until it adjusted to the low lighting in the room. She could feel the anticipation growing in the back of her head as she noticed a new message.

           (Tom) I got you something today

           After a second or two, a picture loaded under the message. Millie gasped and smiled like mad, when he showed her a pair of Minnie Mouse sequin ears. It was an artefact that Millie has always dreamt of, not having an opportunity to go to Disneyland ever in her childhood.  She awaited the chance with high hopes and wandering mind, but she knew the trip had to be thorough, well-planned, and wholesomely happy.

           (Me) You were in Disneyland????

           (Tom) yeah we did promo for spidey today 

           (Me) I’m so jealous rn

           (Me) THANK YOU FOR THE EARS!!!!!  

           (Tom) it’s alright

           (Tom) I didn’t get any weird looks at all

           (Tom) Just casually carried around this shiny sparkling beauty

           (Me) I bet you loved this feeling

           (Me) I bet you bought yourself a pair too

           (Tom) Don’t tell anyone

           (Me) You could always pretend they’re for Tessa

           (Me) I just saw her and your Dad btw

           Whenever her and Tom texted, it always sparked a never-ending conversation about sweet nothings. They mocked each other, talked about their days, spoke about all things home. It allowed them a safe space from their daily hustles; Millie was able to breathe lightly and happily, and Tom had a chance to detach from the world he desperately tried not to drown in.

           Almost spilling the tea, she slowly made it upstairs without losing the sight of her phone screen. She struggled to turn off the lights in the corridor without making a noise but somehow, she managed not to disturb her parents too much, as she reached her bedroom. Safe within her own little space, she put down the mug and let go of her backpack and jacket. She threw herself on the softest bedspread and waited patiently for Tom’s reply.

           The text bubble stopped and a massage didn’t appear, but her phone started ringing. Millie answered the FaceTime call and waited for the camera on his phone to adjust and show his familiar face.

           “I had a meeting with Disney and they want me to participate in one of their projects for a Marvel-themed ride at Disneyland,” from a crooked angle she could see his neatly gelled hair and uneven eyebrows. Tom was walking somewhere, but then sat down and perched his phone on the mug that stood on the coffee table, so that she could see him better.

           “That’s exciting, right?”

           “Oh, yeah!” She could see him rummage in a brown paper bag and pull out a box with some takeaway food. “But I’m telling you this because we could turn it into our Disneyland trip that you’ve wanted, right?”

           “That would be nice, yeah.” She smiled back at the screen, but a terrible yawn sneaked in to her expression. Tom scrunched his forehead and took a large sip from a bottle of water.

           “I didn’t wake you up now, did I?”

           “No, I just came back home. I am tired, though.”

           “Yeah? How was work?”

           “Stressful and not nice. It wasn’t a good day.”

           “Oh, I’m sorry. Wanna talk about it?”

           Tom spent the next minutes carefully listening to her words and trying not to spill his soup on his fresh clothes. He hummed to some of the stories and asked little intrusive questions, to get the whole picture. She kept rubbing at her eyes and stifling her yawns every now and then, at last making a mess of her mascara and getting it all over her skin. Despite the seriousness in her voice, Tom smiled fondly to himself at the view of her ruined face that probably mimicked her current mental state. It wasn’t something he should laugh about, but it was rather endearing to have her so comfortably sharing her lows with him, while he casually ate his lukewarm, very late lunch.

           “Why are you laughing at me?” She returned his smile, knowing it was probably something she did.

           “You made yourself look like panda.” He chewed on a chunk of chicken from his second plate. The wrinkles by his eyes deepened with each of her chuckles and proved to them that this is the lightness they need in their daily routines. “Well, it’s good you asked for a new placement. You should be comfortable in your work environment. I’m proud of you.”

           “Thanks,” she yawned again and stopped herself mid-rubbing her eye again, earning a wholesome, groggy laugh from her friend, “your dad thinks they will give me another chance.”

           “I mean, he knows some people there, so he probably has a point.”

           “Yeah, I just don’t want to get my hopes up too high, you know?” A comfortable silence rested between them after he nodded and continued munching on his food. Millie stood up from her bed and took the phone with her, but also started to slowly get ready for the night.

           “You will know when the moment feels right and shows you something worth a shot. Trust yourself, Mills.”

           “I guess…” she trailed off, making her way to the closet to find fresh pyjamas. “I’m glad my panda face entertained your… what is it, lunch break?”

           “Sort of, yeah,” he chuckled, enjoying the playfulness of her tired self, “I should be coming back in two weeks. We could hang out then, if you’ll have the time.”

           “Oh, for sure.”

           “Alright, I’ll let you rest. Text me anytime, yeah?”

           “I will. Thanks for the Minnie ears!”

           “You got it, Minnie Mouse. Sweet dreams.”

                                                          *  *  *

After her little mishap with Politics Live, Millie tried her best to keep up the hard work, but stay low. She tried not to focus too much attention and just assist other workers in their tasks, only coming up with ideas when necessary. She strived to come back to her public voice, but she knew she needed it to have a comfortable outlet, preferably in another setting and on different topics. She was greeting the intern manager with additional caution and kindness, trying her best not to leave her case forgotten.

Segregating files for the research team seemed to be the best solution to her temporary creative break. Her attention to detail and wholesome care about the task being done to its full potential came in handy. She volunteered to help the group of meticulously scribbling and researching men in keeping their documents in order.

The soft mumble of the radio in the background was interrupted by a guy named Tim. He always wore rock band t-shirts under his jackets and Millie swore she had seen him participate in a wild dance routine during the last year’s Glastonbury Festival. He stopped typing on his keyboard and started to quietly hum a song that was definitely different to what Scott Mills was announcing on Radio 1.

“Oh my God, do you guys know this song? I can’t get it out of my head!” he groaned in frustration, making a few people in the open space office chuckle.

“Do you know any words, maestro?” Millie’s head snapped up at the sound of Kim, the intern manager’s voice. She was passing by with a bunch of files and a coffee, before she perched herself on his desk, obviously making fun of her friend.

“It’s got this very cool, mariachi-like trumpet between the lines,” he mimicked a trumpet player and hummed some more, “and the guy sings something about stopping a feeling…”

“Justin Timberlake?”

“You know he’s not my jam, Kim! It’s an old-school song.”

“You’re the old-school one here.” Kim’s comment earned a couple more laughs at poor Tim, who was genuinely struggling. “you’re the researcher, have you googled it?”

“Of course I googled it, stop mocking me! People are watching.”

Their little light-hearted exchange brought a breezy atmosphere to the office and made Millie smile some more. She kept on looking up at Tim to check if he’s found the song he was looking for, but without luck. Her fingertips started to tingle with each swipe through the pages in a file, because she felt like she knew the song. Deciding to come against her decision to lay low, she gently cleared her throat and swallowed her nerves of speaking up in a new environment.

“Hey Tim, have you tried to find it on Spotify?” they both looked at Millie with playful smiles, as anyone would to the up and coming intern fresh out of university.

“I don’t think it’s the title of the song, so I won’t find it there.”

“But you actually could,” she offered, biting her lip nervously “since the recent update, you can now type in the lyrics into the search bar and the results will show you all licensed songs with the same or similar lyrics.” Tim instantly reached for his phone and started typing away.

“Oh really? I didn’t know that, let’s see…” Kim looked into his phone and watched his progress.

“And since you’ve remembered a catchy verse, it’s very possible that others also tried to find this song through the same words. So, it will probably come up within the first few results.”

“Alright, smarty.” He shook his head in amusement. Millie watched as Kim’s face got ridden of any emotion and just stared at Tim’s work.

“But if nothing comes up, you can always try ‘Hooked on a Feeling’ by Blue Swede.”

Millie waited with racing heart at their reactions. Tim clicked on one of the results and raised the volume, filling the room with a sound so familiar to Millie’s memory. She smiled shyly and internally patted herself on the back, before coming back to her task.

           “How did you know this song?” His triumphant smile was radiating, as he did a little dance in his seat and twirled on his rolling chair. “It’s such an old tune, I didn’t think your generation would know it!”

           “Yeah Millie, how did you know?” Kim encouraged his question and watched her carefully, almost as if she was studying her intern.

           “It’s in the soundtrack to Guardians of the Galaxy. I wrote a paper on it.”

           “Hm.” Kim’s unreadable expression was giving Millie chills, but in a positive way. She liked to be asked about things that interested her and prompted her to be creative, so the way this situation evolved was close to burst her heart into passionate flames. “I’ll ask the Radio managers if they want a music and pop culture geek, how’s that sound?”

           It sounded like Millie put the trust in herself at the right time.  

****

tagged: @peeterparkr @katieraven @kozybear@sunsetholland @hey-marlie @lauras-collection@cunaeparker @constellationsv @heyhihellowhatsup0 @spideyspeaches

If it bothers you that you’re tagged, please let me know!

[peaches-writes]

relax—i’m nervous too

description: something short and sweet member: jeongin / i.n. word count: 2.2k genre: fluff, implied best friends to lovers au, first date au, summer au notes: innie went on vlive then i remembered that this has been sitting on my drafts since i posted hwang’s guide to gardening lmao

You wonder if you should hold Jeongin’s hand as you walk down the natural slope of the road, eyes fleeting down to his hands hidden inside his long coat’s pockets. You are, after all, in the middle of quite a packed crowd on this particular Sunday—it’s dangerously easy to lose each other (especially you since you haven’t been exactly the most attentive to the people coming from the opposite direction)—and the sidewalk’s quite steep since it’s, first and foremost, a hill. Also, it’s not like you haven’t done it before; holding onto Jeongin in any way is a long-established habit of yours formed at the first instance he declared you as his best friend years ago.

Holding onto Jeongin in this situation, from a casual standpoint, is the most logical thing to do—except this situation is anything but casual. It’s your first date ever and your first date with Jeongin, your best friend since forever. Holding his hand without permission, along with the other kinds of skinship that you used to initiate for this matter, meant nothing that can easily be misinterpreted before but now it’s suddenly everything. I don’t want to seem too clingy, you frown to yourself absentmindedly, almost tripping on your walk in the process.

Jeongin immediately seems to notice even when he’s walking slightly ahead of you, turning around and placing a concerned hand to your upper arm that does nothing but fluster you more. He doesn’t tell you but he’s noticed this entire time that you seemed really nervous and it’s not helping his own nervousness at all.

“You okay?” He takes a step closer to you in order to avoid bumping into other people as the two of you stop in the middle of the crowd, pure concern in his eyes since it’s the second time you’ve tripped on nothing.

Unconsciously, the two of you both contemplate if the question’s asking if you’re okay from your small accident or if you’re okay despite acting a bit off and distant.

Quickly recovering, you muster up a smile. “I’m fine.” You take a step forward, a gesture that you continue moving. Assured, he follows and the two of you resume walking, his hand immediately sliding down to yours when you try returning them to your own coat pockets.

“I noticed.” He points out sheepishly, as if he’s still unsure if he should bring it up. “Relax—you’re making me nervous too.”

“Sorry.” You squeeze his hand as you steal a glance in his direction, catching the way he briefly returns your look with a small smile. He’s flushed red, nervous too, while trying to look past the people ahead of you for the building you’ve been looking for. “I was just—overthinking about holding your hand. It’s silly, I know.”

But he shakes his head no. “It’s not, I was wondering the same thing, too.” He then touches the nape of his neck with his free hand, chuckling to diffuse the awkwardness.

Somehow, it calms you down knowing that you’re on the same page.

“Oh, hey, we’re here.” Jeongin points to an old building across the street, showcasing endless racks of clothes and trinket shops. There’s no sign or any identification for the building itself, Jeongin just knew from the old cinema next to it that serves as a landmark.

Thank God the road to this particular shopping district is closed on the weekends.

The two of you cross the street along, careful of avoiding the chalk drawings and the people squatted over them on the ground. You make a mental note of this—and the flyer for a music festival later posted on the streetlight that meets you at your destination—for later.

“Try this one!” 

“This one suits you!”

When you’ve completely mastered how to efficiently navigate the maze that is the thrift shop you and Jeongin found yourself in (which only took some 30 minutes actually), the two of you immediately tackled the shops with clothes and shoe racks that caught your eyes. Exchanging clothing suggestions, buying trinkets you don’t actually need but found too adorable not to buy, thinking of what you could do to upgrade certain pieces, trying to haggle for some of the more unique pieces you’ve found (with decent success), and playing with the occasional toys you found on display in your way, you feel more at ease with each other now—as if it’s just another hangout and not your first official date.

“I like this denim so much. I think we look rather cute!” You stand in front of a full mirror next to Jeongin who looks back at you through your reflections with a matching denim jacket you found hanging above your heads while you were looking at jumpsuits. “We can paint these and put the pins we bought on them and—“

You stop yourself from talking immediately when you notice Jeongin trying to stifle a giggle, making you laugh. Instinctively, he covers his face in embarrassment, “What?”

“You’re smiling so much!” You can’t help but smile now too, turning your head to him so that you’re looking directly at him and not through your reflections. “What’s getting you all so giggly?”

He initially shakes his head no, teasing with a smile, but you insist. “...You said ‘we.’”

Your heart melts right there and then. “Well, yeah, they’re matching denims after all?” You tease despite knowing what he meant. “I’m not going to layer these on myself.”

You’ve done a lot of things together, there’s no doubt about that, but now it’s just a little bit different—but for a good reason. It makes you feel strangely excited.

“Okay, yeah, I agree, we do look cute in these. You, especially.” He concludes, a wide grin still on his face, before taking out his phone and putting an arm on your shoulder. “Can we take a pic?”

He ends up snapping a handful photos of the two of you, making a mental note to change his wallpaper later when he gets home.

“Do you think the auntie can give us some kind of couples’ discount.” You joke as you shed off the jacket, feeling more light and free now that you’re doing something with Jeongin.

“You’re doing it again!” 

“What?” 

“’Couple.’” 

You roll your eyes playfully, elbowing him on his side as he takes off his jacket. “You asked me on this date and you’re suddenly nervous about the word ‘couple’?” 

Even though, it’s your turn teasing him now, you did feel the same jittery feeling of calling the two of you a couple. It’s such a long jump from calling each other best friends, especially since you’ve grown accustomed to it for years. 

“No, I like the sound of it.” Jeongin is quick to defend himself when he’s fully recovered from your sudden attack. You laugh because it took him a while. 

Also, you did manage to get a discount after that.

On the way out, you spot a corridor that leads to an adjacent building. Tugging on Jeongin’s arm, you excitedly point it out, specifically the paintings hanging on the walls that peek out from your limited view. “Should we check this out?”

It’s not like the two of you had anything planned specifically for the day besides checking out the thrift shop—you wanted to eat lunch in between, of course (since it’s nearing 2 PM) but somehow you didn’t want to sit down yet.

And Jeongin seems to agree. “Yeah, let’s go.” The two of you then make a turn, heading to the mysterious corridor instead of back outside.

Walking in the other building, it immediately dawns on the two of you that it’s the old cinema Jeongin referred to as the thrift shop’s landmark, remodeled into a more open space with art galleries, snack stands, and other upscale stores, especially him. It suddenly made him extra nervous as the two of you look around while walking over to the art gallery that has caught your eye, displayed at very center where the light from the clear ceiling seems to be focusing its light on.

Jeongin wanted to check this place out for the longest time since he asked his dad where he could take you on a first date. Watching a movie at the old cinema would’ve been your second date—if you agreed to it, of course—but here you are.

“We can eat lunch here afterwards.” Jeongin points to a couple of mall restaurants as the two of you approach the displays. He also notices that there’s still a theater on the highest floor—he’s noticing a lot of things, actually, taking notes for later. “Or maybe check out the jewelry shop over there.”

“Lucky I spotted the corridor, ‘no?” You briefly look at him from examining a painting of a girl and flowers, a proud smile on your face. “It’s really cool—especially if you think about how it used to be a cinema!”

He nods in agreement, matching your slow pace of moving from painting to painting to appreciate the details of the work on display. “You know, my parents used to go here a lot.”

“Really? Is that how you knew about the thrift shop?”

“Yeah...” He then briefly ponders over telling you the rest. “...They also went on their first date here at the cinema.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Was that too much?” He asks, following with a nervous chuckle. Are you supposed to say that on a first date? All the gears in his head turn to panicking internally. “It’s just—“

“No, it’s not—I’m—“ You stutter out, looking at him fully now instead of the paintings. You’re almost done circling around the entire display, anyway. “I’m honored...is that the right word? Like I feel really happy—like I can boast this to Seungmin and the others and go, ‘yup, Jeongin took me to a very special place for our first date last summer’ when school starts again.’—I can say that, right?”

“It’s...it’s not weird or anything?” 

“Why would it be?” You shrug nonchalantly, curious as to where this conversation is going. “This is like your parents’ cool date suggestion or something.”

“If you say it that way, it makes it look like our date’s very unoriginal.” He pouts in frustration, making you giggle.

Shaking your head, you counter, “No, it doesn’t because even when the place is the same, it’s still ours in a way—like, did Mr. and Mrs. Yang buy matching denim jackets and questionable statement pins at the thrift shop? Or checked out this amazing installation?”

“No, definitely not.” You manage to return a smile on his face. “In fact, they didn’t go on a Sunday so they couldn’t enjoy the night music festival.”

“You caught that too?” His eyes widen. 

“Do you want to go later?” 

“If we can draw on the road too with chalk!”

It fully sinks on Jeongin that this is, in fact, your very first date and, hopefully, the first of many. He suddenly feels excited to tell his parents later all the things they missed out on this shopping district when he gets home later. “Okay, deal. Let’s eat first, though, I’m starving!”

“Chicken?” 

“Chicken, yes please.”

You leave the cinema-turned-mall late since you both decided on drinking iced coffee and eating fries after your meal. Returning to the outside world somewhere around 5 PM, hands now naturally clasped together, you buy chalk on a nearby stationery store then cross the street, finding a spot after 10 minutes amidst the long stretch of already painted road.

It’s almost the end of the day so most people are on the other lane, waiting for the night music festival under tents set up by the organizers. Still, that didn’t stop the two of you from doodling along with some children, couples, and friends.

“What are you doing?” You ask after a while, peering over Jeongin’s shoulder curiously.

“I’m drawing a fox and a rabbit.” He points out, the mismatched colors he’s used used making you laugh. “Guess who’s who.”

“We have red and white colors here—where have you ever seen a pink fox and a pink rabbit?” You chuckle, glancing back at your own own work of making a bouquet of flowers.

“Just this morning when you were blushing so hard about holding my hand—” He teases cheekily, earning him a slap on the arm. “—Hey, I mean, I was too!”

“You talk like you weren’t so giggly about me referring to ourselves as a couple.” You’re the one pouting this time, but lightheartedly. “I’m erasing your card on this bouquet.”

“You wouldn’t!” 

“Yes, I can!”

The playful banter eventually makes you laugh that you almost stumbled and accidentally sat down on the road before Jeongin steadied you with his dust-free hand on your arm. When you’ve recovered, you go back to working on your chalk drawings.

“Hold on, let me take a photo.” You whip out your phone once the two of you are done, standing over your drawings and giggling all the way. Jeongin drew, as mentioned, a fox and a rabbit walking around buildings and under ‘Jeongin and Y/N were here’ in big letters. You, on the other hand, drew a bouquet with a message and two people in matching denim jackets. “This is so cute.”

While you take photos, Jeongin decides on reading aloud the note you’ve written along with the bouquet. “‘Jeongin and Y/N’s first date, summer ‘20. Let’s make more memories like this together!’” He then turns to you, now done taking photos. “We’re going on a second date?”

“Aren’t we?” You look up at him despite the feeling of heat rising from your neck. “Today was fun—not disastrous like they say about first dates, we can accidentally do those later.”

You really are looking forward to a second date now—and a third, fourth, fifth...

Meanwhile, it feels like a weight is lifted of Jeongin’s chest and his first instinct is to pull you into a hug. “I’m glad.” He rests his chin on your crown. “Let’s go on that second date soon.”

“And go back here in the future, I like it here.” You hug him back, relieved that you’re still, even at the end of the day, on the same page. “Maybe they do have really good movies at the old cinema, we didn’t check.”

Jeongin only chuckles at this now. “Sounds like a promising future date.” 

Later that night, the two of you enjoy lively music at the night music festival, jumping around, dancing, and singing to the songs both familiar and unfamiliar.

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

ᴍɪꜱᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅɪɴɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ | ᴍᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋᴀᴡᴀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | [ᴀᴅᴍɪɴ ᴋᴏ & ᴀᴅᴍɪɴ ᴛ ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʙ]

Hello hello~! This goes out to our anon from when we first reached 1000 followers! We apologize this took so long to get out, but here it is! Long story short, as we reached our 1000 count we had received this request from one of our followers~! Admin T and I had then decided to put a collaborative effort to write this out~! It’s quite long, but we really hope you like it!

Writing wise, Admin T was the POV of lovely reader, and I was the POV of Matsukawa~! 

Again, thank you so much for the love and support you all have given us~! We really appreciate it~!

» » Admin 𝕋 & Admin ᴋᴏ

»»————-　♡　————-««

She always loved him. From the very first time they met, to the first time he held her in his arms when she felt like the world was collapsing around her. He was her best friend, advisor, confidant, right-hand man. His name was like chocolate on her tongue; sweet, delightful, and always made her giddy when she tasted it. He made her chest tightened with a heat she had never felt for anybody else, a feeling she never wanted to let go of. His touch, his laugh, his words. All of it was everything and anything she ever wanted.

But, she couldn’t tell him, She couldn’t even utter the words “I love you,” too afraid of what the result could be. Too afraid she would lose her best friend, her confidant, her right-hand man. It would be lonely, without him.

And that is something she could never live with. 

Intimidating and ever the observant male, it comes to the surprise of many-- mainly his teammates-- when he announces his feelings for their manager. She was, in short, the only one who could ever make his heart flutter in the most unexplainable ways. A smile worth a thousand words. Brilliant (e/c) hues that could without a doubt light up even the darkest of rooms. It was cheesy without a doubt. Even Matsukawa couldn’t grasp the fact that he was feeling such emotions. 

Yet why hadn’t he confessed his emotions? Even Oikawa, the residential ‘popular with the ladies’ captain had sat down with him in hopes of persuading the middle blocker to confront his own emotions. With their captain talking to him, the team was sure that the male would follow through. Instead, they were all delivered a shock when Oikawa had announced that they should mind their business and to allow their middle blocker to go at his own pace. No matter how painful and irritating it was.

When questioned why the response was simple: 

“She deserves better than me.” 

A heavy atmosphere would soon follow the softly spoken phrase and the conversation itself would be dropped. Noticing this, the middle blocker would avidly navigate the conversation out of the awkward silence that would follow after being pestered about his -- what he liked to call -- lack of a love life.

Despite this, the usually easy-going giant couldn’t read the signals being sent his way. The obvious signs that were practically being smacked in his face flew right over his head. 

Before any of his teammates could elaborate as to why (y/n) and him are the perfect couple, Matsukawa’s crush lightly knocked on the locker room door, then opened it, looking around cautiously. “Sorry to interrupt whatever was going on, but I need to close the gym and locker soon, so I need you guys to hurry up.” (y/n) said to the team, glancing towards Matsukawa a couple of times, but never quite looking him in the eyes. 

“We’ll be out soon, (y/n), thank you.” Oikawa said in a sing-song voice, waving her off as she closed the door. But before it could fully block her view, she called out to Matsukawa. “I’ll be at the front of the school until you’re done so that we can walk home together. I have some important news to tell you.”

And with that, (y/n) gripped the doorknob and closed it, quickly walking away from the locker room. She grabbed her school bag, and let out a deep sigh, her heart beating way too fast for her liking. Telling Matsukawa she needed to talk to him was entirely improvised, she didn’t even know why she told him that. It wasn’t a lie, she did have something she needed to talk with him about, but (y/n) didn’t think she would tell them then and there. With everyone watching the two of them, their eyes boring into her face as she stumbled on her words. It was embarrassing to say the least. 

(y/n) heaved out another sigh and crouched down near the gate located in the front of the school, rubbing her forehead in exhaustion. Hopefully the guys don’t think anything of what she said and just let it go.

Of course, they didn’t let it go.

Back in the locker room, the boys all looked at each other, silently asking each other just what she needed to tell Matsukawa privately. “I wonder what she wants to tell you.” Oikawa piped up, voicing what everyone was thinking. He gazed over to Matsukawa, watching the flow of curiosity, suspicion, and anxiety flash through his eyes. Ever so slowly, Oikawa grinned, knowing exactly what was going to happen. “Well, since it’s just for your ears, Matsukawa, you better hurry up so you can figure it out, and then tell all of us!” He exclaimed, Matsukawa’s teammates whooping in agreement. 

Even with the cheerful and supportive atmosphere, the male in question couldn’t help but feel a sense of anxiety overwhelm him. He should’ve felt excited, nervous, hell even ecstatic. Instead, he felt an odd sense of dread build up in his throat as he could only thickly swallow the unwanted emotions. This itself was seen more so as a general nervous tick by the rest of his teammates as the congratulatory slaps to his back were nothing more than empty motions. Perhaps he was overthinking things, but even Matsukawa couldn’t deny the fact that despite his normal mellow and somewhat aloof attitude, he could still feel the strong emotions of jealousy and want.

It didn’t help that he had heard strange rumors circulating throughout the classes about (y/n). Initially speaking, Matsukawa didn’t seem to invest himself into her personal life; but as his crush on her grew and the relationship between them blossomed into something where it could go in either direction, he couldn’t help but feel the need to be involved in her everyday endeavors. 

“I’ll..be heading out first.” 

The slight tremble in his voice went unnoticed by his teammates-- and even if it was noticed, none felt the need to bring it up-- as he hurriedly packed his belongings before subconsciously making his way towards the front entrance. What exactly would she tell him? With all this mind-numbing thinking, the middle blocker hadn’t even noticed that he was brought before the beautiful sight of (y/n) leaning against the wall. 

It should’ve been cheesy. A cringe-worthy moment that anyone could say looked like a typical anime scene, but even with those accusations, Matsukawa couldn’t deny the fact that she looked ethereal. The warmth of the evening sun glow framed her features in a fairy-like way that made his heart skip a couple of beats. Perhaps he was overthinking this, maybe he should listen to her words instead of the baseless rumors that fluttered throughout the school.

“What did you need to tell me?”

“Oh--” (y/n) stuttered out, letting out a surprised squeak, “Jeez, don’t scare me like that.” She muttered, putting her hand on her chest, trying to get her breathing to become even again. “How about we start walking before I start talking. I need to, uh, build up my courage, so to speak.” She told him and smiled when he nodded his head in acceptance. (y/n) started to walk to the direction of her home, Matsukawa directly beside her, closer than usual. She could feel his heat from his body since he was so close. It made her own body tingle with the need for him to wrap his arms around her and make her feel safe and secure. But, she coughed into her hand, and distracted her mind from those types of thoughts. “So about the thing I wanted to talk to you about.” (y/n) started, making Matsukawa gaze down at her.

She saw a glimmer of something in his eyes when he peered down to her, though she couldn’t quite pin what the emotion was, but it didn’t look like anything positive. (y/n) watched as he fumbled with his school bag, shrugging back onto his shoulder, looking to the ground and then back to her. “Oh. Yeah. What is it?”

(y/n) chuckled at how uncomfortable he looked, but could also feel the discomfort rolling off her own body. “I--I have a date this weekend.”

A jolt of pain. One that he was unaccustomed to quickly shot down his spine as he fought the urge to suddenly clutch at his chest. He knew. Matsukawa knew very well that when she had asked for his appearance that something was going to be brought up. Whether it was good or bad, the middle blocker wasn’t sure, but the telltale sign of the gut-wrenching emotion he had felt earlier was suddenly unwelcome. Perhaps he should’ve avoided this. An excuse of sorts to avoid the inevitable. 

“...Is, is that so?”

The words felt foreign on his tongue. The voice that came out practically unrecognizable to the male as he forced a carefree smile on his face despite the raging waves of jealousy that splattered across his heart and mind. 

It should be me.

Simple yet complex in its way, the words stayed hidden in the depths of his mind as he forced his gaze away from her towards the breathtaking scenery. A chance to distract himself from the desires he locked away deep into his chest.

She witnessed as his eyebrows furrowed and his breathing stopped, but only for a moment. It looked like Matsukawa was going to vomit any time now. And as any good friend would do she stopped her walking and patted him on the back. “Hey, you okay? You suddenly got really pale and sick looking.” She asked, setting down her bag to further examine his condition.

He now looked like he was going to either cry or punch a wall. But, he didn’t move, just stood there, booking through her, as (y/n) tried to catch his attention. The setting sun was behind her, making the glisten of unshed tears more apparent to her than before. “Matsukawa, seriously, what’s wrong? Is it because I said I have a date this weekend? I’m sorry, I knew we were going to do something this weekend, but I totally forgot and when he asked me out, I completely blanked, and the fact that Oikawa of all people would ask me out. I was  shocked.” She explained, taking her hands away from his body and started to fidget.

A bitter taste decimated his taste buds as he fought the urge to show his clear displeasure at the newfound information. Though it wasn’t like it wasn’t unexpected, if he was being honest with himself Matsukawa had the aching feeling that this was part of Oikawa’s strange elaborate scheme. Though for what? The middle blocker wasn’t sure. It was true that Aoba Johsai didn’t have a manager -- much like any other volleyball team they’ve met; save for the select few -- thus the deliberate doting and strange protectiveness that he felt, and was sure his fellow teammates felt, was one of mutual understanding.

So why did he still feel this piercing pain in his chest? 

“Ah no, it’s not that. I just thought of something rather unpleasant. I didn’t mean to worry you. We can always move our plans, what matters is that you’re still able to live how you want to. I’m sure being the manager of the team and being a student has it’s woes. So if someone takes interest in you, you should try it. Right?”

A hypocritical statement. Mentally grimacing, Matsukawa made a mental note to follow his own advice. Even with that in mind, the sudden urge to call the team captain rang prominently in his mind, and before he knew it he began to project some of his subconscious thoughts.

“...not like I could treat you any better anyway…”

Soft and ghostlike, the words gently graced the space they shared. It took him a moment, but after realizing those words parted from his lips Matsukawa offered her a forced smile as an awkward laugh tumbled out of his mouth.

“Ah, sorry. Ignore what I said. I genuinely hope you enjoy your time with Oikawa-san, (y/n).” 

She watched his back as he continued to walk toward his home. She wanted to catch up and take him by the hand, tell him that she’ll cancel and they can just hang out in his room for the weekend. They can play his favorite games. 

But. That face. That horrible expression that contorted on his face made her want to cry. He looked like he was in so much pain. And the worst part is that she didn’t know why. She didn’t know how to help him. That’s all she wants to do. She never, ever, wants to see him like that.

Without thinking she started running toward him, taking him by the hand and pulling him back. “Matsu, What is wrong? Tell me, please.” she pleaded. He slowly inhaled, then exhaled before turning his body to face (y/n).

A jolt-- rather a sign that brought him out of his haze induced state. Slowly he brought his gaze to her. Impenetrable dark brown orbs bore deeply into her own (e/c) as he couldn’t help but feel a smile grace his features. Why? Matsukawa wasn’t quite sure himself. In all honesty, it felt natural to him. 

“...it’s nothing munchkin. You know me if there was something on my mind I’d tell you the moment I’ve gathered my bearings. Stop being such a worrywart.”

Despite the jovial and teasing tone that escaped his lips, Matsukawa couldn’t help but feel a headache begin to formulate in the back of his mind. It was without a doubt that once in the comfort of his own room he’d have a chat with his captain. 

“Come on, let’s get you home before you get lost. The team would have my head if I let our only manager get lost on her way home.”

She saw that he didn't want to talk about it. The way he smiled and how strained it was, she knew it was the end of the discussion.

So, she played along. She played along because whatever was happening, she didn't want it to explode in her face. "I could never get lost, not with you here, right?" She said, putting on her own fake smile. (Y/n) started walking again, this "time using a faster pace than usual. 

She went ahead of Matsukawa, so he wouldn't have to see her face, and the way it showed her confusion and pain. It was silent between them, her best friend not saying anything and neither did she. What could she say anyway? It was starting to become awkward and if she were to sputter a phrase out now, it would just be even more awkward. 

And for the rest of the way, until she stood in front of her home, with Matsukawa beside her, did she say something. "Well, I'll tell you all about the date when it's over, okay?" She told him, hoping for some type of positive response that didn't result in Matsukawa pursing his lips to hide the continuous pained expression.

Another pang of guilt pierced his heart as he couldn’t help but feel a wave of sorrow overtake his mood as he kept his gaze from her distant form. Despite this, the middle blocker pushed forth with a gentle smile and his usual calm and leisurely soothing tone of voice. 

“I expect all the juicy details. You wouldn’t keep them all from me now, would you?”

The teasing remark came by briskly, a change in which he hoped would lighten the dampened mood that begrudgingly made itself well known between the pair on their journey of dropping one another off. 

"Of course I will. We are friends after all. I tell you everything!" (Y/n) said then waved him off before going inside her to take a well deserved bath.

Returning the wave with a slight gesture of his own hand, Matsukawa watched as she hurriedly rushed into her home. Once she disappeared behind the wooden door, the male finally turned in the direction of his own home before finally making the quick journey home. Throughout the small trip, his mind was muddled. Emotions of all sorts ranging from raging jealousy to utter confusion and lastly betrayal intermingled with one another in his heart as a storm brewed over his head. 

Upon arriving home, the middle blocker made a direct beeline for his bedroom. A couple of half-hearted spoken words of return were given to his parents as he brushed past their curious expressions. Once the door to his bedroom clicked shut, a breath he didn’t know he was holding was finally released as he slumped against the sturdy frame.

“What the hell is he even thinking…”

With a shake of his head, Matsukawa pushed himself off of the door and towards his bed. Along the way, he let his backpack slowly drag itself down from his shoulder and onto the floor as he fished his phone out of his pocket. A moment barely passed as his fingers had instinctively dialed the captain’s phone number as he free-fell onto his bed. The dull thump that echoed in his room became nonexistent as he hyper-focused on the ringing dial tone. Distracted brown pupils found themselves searching for something-- anything to keep him from blowing up the moment Oikawa answered the phone; and luckily a peculiar speck on his wall managed to serve as a perfect distraction as Oikawa’s voice rang clearly into his ears.

“Ya-hoo~ Mattsu-kun~!”

“...Captain.”

“Eh? Why the cold shoulder? Didn’t you like what our lovely manager told you?”

“Cut the bullshit and explain yourself before I tell Iwaizumi-san what’s going on.”

He didn’t mean to sound like a jealous boyfriend-- but the instinct came almost naturally. It wasn’t a secret that Oikawa had a Fanclub, nor was it a secret that he had quite the flirtatious streak. It just riled up the middle blocker. Out of all the girls, why did it have to be her? Oikawa was well aware of his feelings for her, so why? The confusion and bitter feeling he felt did nothing but stay in the forefront of his mind as he barely paid a dime to Oikawa’s pointless blathering.

That was until the captain said something he never expected to hear.

“This was part of my plan to get you and (y/n) together you know! I didn’t think our Matsu-kun would get so jealous and protective so easily~ It’s admirable~!”

“...Plan?”

“Were you not paying attention? Oh, how my heart aches! My own teammate is not even paying attention to his captain when he’s giving you such wonderful advice!”

“Cut the dramatics and explain...please.”

“Hehe~ Well since you asked so kindly, the plan was going to be me asking her out, but you’d be the one actually attending the date!”

“...huh?”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me it isn’t foolproof! It also gives you the chance to properly confess! I expect to see great news this coming Monday! Now I have to go~ there’s a new theory on extraterrestrials coming out and I’m making Iwa-chan watch with me after this volleyball match!”

Before he could even get a word in, the line went dead as nothing but silence filled his ears. It took him a moment, but as Matsukawa finally processed the information he was presented a flush of red finally overtook his features as he brought an arm up to shield his eyes as he couldn’t contain the giddy smile that now graced his features.

Despite the chaotic mess that his captain had managed to scrounge up, it seemed that he had a good heart. Even with his quirky attitude and flamboyant personality, the captain of Aoba Johsai never failed to bring all sorts of challenges to the team. 

“Damn you Oikawa, you could’ve at least warned a guy before you decide to act like cupid…”

Once properly calmed down, the male persistently texted the alien fanatic of a captain, the underlying details of said conversation being that he had to prepare for the new upcoming date with (y/n). The only thing that really sat in his mind now was giving her the perfect confession he could muster up whilst giving her a wonderful first date. 

That following weekend, Matsukawa began his morning bright and early. The questionable looks his parents gave him became ones of utter glee and mischief as they watched their son prepare for his first date. The small and adoring antics of perfecting his outfit whilst mannerisms were overlooked by his parents as they gave him a knowing smile. 

Even if he wanted to say something in defense, the middle blocker couldn’t help but shy away at his parents’ knowing glances. With a brisk wave and a mention of his leave, Matsukawa made his way towards the designated meeting spot that Oikawa had originally planned for. With his heart beating erratically in his chest and the sudden rush of adrenaline that flooded his veins, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of fear and excitement as he neared the familiar scenery of the town plaza.

Wearing a long flowery dress, (y/n) nervously walked to the nearby town plaza , where she was planning to meet Oikawa for their date. The dressed up girl didn't get a lot of sleep last night, her nerves keeping her up. She didn't even like Oikawa, but she needed to do this. To forget about Matsukawa, so that her and Matsukawa could remain friends, and not ruin their relationship. 

Gripping her purse, she continued to the designated location, looking left and right to see if she can find her date. Huffing, she stomped around the plaza, peering around people to see if she can find Oikawa. But surprisingly, she found her best friend instead, sporting a nice button up and jeans. Tilting her head, she saw him fidget with his shirt before looking around, then making eye contact with (y/n), smiling at her, his eyes gleaming.

She started walking toward him, still confused as to why he was there. "Matsu, what are you doing here?" She asked him. 

Heavenly. That’s all he could think of as his gaze fell on her confused form. To him, it was endearing to see the tilt of her head. The light change in the pitch of her voice as she questioned his sudden appearance. Instinctively, he walked towards her with his hands in his pockets. Though when finally faced before her, he removed one of his hands. A brisk move and he suddenly found himself gently ruffling her hair as an endearing smile graced his features.

“Something that I should’ve originally taken into my own hands. Don’t tell this to him, but he has my thanks for today.”

Before she could further interrogate him, he went to gently grasp her hand. Almost instantly, he felt a sense of warmth flood his heart as he wove their fingers together. A light blush dusted his cheeks as he gave her another smile before gently tugging her along.

“Besides, I’m pretty certain that I can prove to you that I can be a much better date than Oikawa. Now let’s go, don’t think I forgot about your tendencies to forget to eat when you’re nervous (y/n).”

[meangirlsx]

I hope this isn’t too personal but as a bi/ace person, how did you realize you were bi? As an ace folk I feel like my perception of attraction is all f-ed up and I can’t figure out if I just think girls are pretty or if I’m actually into girls? It doesn’t really matter cause I’ll only ever really be able to date guys bc of my family but I want to know for me

No, not too personal at all! I’m actually really glad you asked because it’s something I struggled with a lot and it’s nice to know I’m not the only one. I just apologize in advance for the essay I’m writing to give you as much context and information as possible for how I figured it out. (Also I basically wrote an essay on the guys I’ve thought I loved, so it’s only right for me to write an essay like this.)

I’m totally with you, I feel like my perception of attraction is about as reliable as a broken clock: maybe right occasionally but otherwise not much help.

I never questioned whether or not I was interested in guys. It was expected and assumed. I never really understood things people would talk about or show in media, like people just not being able to control themselves or people getting excited over events like Broadway Bares, but I never doubted my interest in guys.

In that same vein, despite going to an alternative high school where we talked a lot about LGBTQIA+ topics and I had a lot of friends who were out, it never occurred to me that I could be interested in anyone other than guys. I can look back now at a lot of situations growing up and see the times I mistook interest in a girl for admiration or just thinking she was insanely cool.

The first time I ever questioned being straight, I think I was 14 and I was doing a Romeo and Juliet balcony scene project with a friend who actually was going to come out as a trans man the next year. (The only reason I’m sharing that is because I don’t want to misgender him now but it’s obviously relevant that I didn’t know yet that he’s a man.) When I was watching the footage back to edit, I caught a sweet gesture in his Romeo monologue to me that gave me total butterflies and I found myself watching it over and over. I decided by the end of the week that I wasn’t actually interested in him, and then proceeded to convince myself I was straight again until I was 21.

I was at a regional theatre convention with my college department and we’d seen one of the schools perform a show earlier in the day. The girl who played the lead was absolutely incredible. Later in the day, I was on a bus waiting to go back to the hotel, and I saw that school in line to also board the bus, including the girl. I thought I was just a little starstruck, but my head was spinning as they all got on and she made her way toward the back of the bus where I was to let people continue to get on. She asked if she could sit next to me and I thought my heart was going to explode it was beating so fast.

Normally, when people sit next to me who I don’t know, we both do things on our phones so we don’t have to talk to a stranger. I had absolutely no intention of picking up my phone if there was any chance she wanted to talk to me. And she did. And I truly about died. It turned out that she’d had a rehearsal during a class I attended that she’d wanted to go to, and I’d taken extreme notes, so I offered to send them to her and gave her my phone to give me her email, but I didn’t clarify that. She put in her number. I did not shut up about her for the last two days of the trip or the following week.

Being in a very liberal college theatre group, of course my friends were all super excited and supportive, and one of the adults on the trip with us is bisexual and she was actually a big help and encouragement as I settled into the realization that I wasn’t just starstruck by this girl.

I didn’t have my first full-on crush on a girl until a little later into the year with a new girl in the department. I don’t even remember realizing I liked her. Just all of a sudden, every time I was around her, all those reactions started happening again. And we were in the same friend group, so we were around each other a lot.

She would enter the same room as me and I would have trouble focusing. She would smile at me or laugh at a joke I made and I would almost short-circuit. I had to pin her into this weird top for a costume and I would get a little shaky every time. She would text the group chat and I would just stare at my phone. One time, she hugged me and kept her hands on my waist as we pulled back and she just met my eyes and smiled at me and I am genuinely not sure I have ever short-circuited so hard over a crush.

So that’s how I’ve learned to recognize the signs for myself. I had the same kind of reactions that I had with guys I liked. My head spun, my heart raced, my brain would either never shut up or totally shut down, I found myself going out of my way to spend time with her or just be in the same room as her. I’d see her and I’d get that cheesy warm, fuzzy feeling. I’d get really nervous in a way I never got around other friends. 

That being said, my feelings for the girl on the bus and my friend felt so different from what I’d felt before. With my friend, in particular, I’ve never been more sure of a crush. I felt everything more strongly. I’m a pro at finding reasons to stop liking someone so much, and I couldn’t find a single one with her. I could talk myself out of wanting to pursue any crush in college, but the only reasons I had for not telling her how I felt were that the thought completely terrifies me with anyone, I wasn’t sure how she felt and didn’t want to mess up the friendship, and I was about to graduate while she would still be in college for a long time. All outside things. Nothing to do with her.

And it did take me a while to understand it. I think I actually more typically get crushes on guys, so that made it even harder to figure out. Honestly, talking about it helped me a lot. It was easier to make sense of it when I had friends getting excited with me and freaking out over how they hadn’t seen me like that about a crush before.

Being on here helped me, too. I was still scared to talk to friends out loud, so it helped to see what people on here said and find things I could relate to. Actually, one of the first signs I just didn’t realize was that I was starting to read and even write female character x reader fics and trying to convince myself it was for curiosity and expanding my writing.

The one other thing I can think of that helped me was overthinking things the way I always do. It made me try to analyze my own feelings in a way I never had before. I tried to imagine dating this girl. The thought scared me, but because I was starting to realize that dating anyone intimidated me and was an entirely separate problem. Also, being ace does add a new layer of navigation. But when I was first really trying to figure out if I liked her, I imagined how I would feel if she liked me. I realized I would feel a kind of excitement I wasn’t sure I’d ever even felt before, and that was my answer.

It doesn’t have to be any of my business how your family feels, but if you want to talk about that, I’m here. I totally understand that it’s SUCH a difficult situation to be in, but if this is who you are, no one has the right to tell you otherwise or how to live your life. I know that’s a lot easier said than done. But you don’t have to live your whole life the way your family wants.

I can’t speak from experience not having a supportive family. I told my mom as soon as I got home from the theatre convention. But it’s been 3 years, now, and I haven’t told my brother or my dad. I know they’ll be incredibly supportive. I know it won’t cause problems. But the thought still scares me. The idea of anything having to change scares me. The thought of actually physically having the conversation terrifies me.

So I don’t mean to make it sound like I understand having an unsupportive family. I’m so sorry if that’s your situation. I do understand being scared, though, and feeling like you have to cut yourself off from pursuing something for the sake of not having to deal with it. I can’t preach about living as your most honest, authentic self when I’m not there yet, either. But I’m here with you if you want a friend while you navigate this potential new territory.

The last thing I’ll say is this: once I got over my initial shock and set aside other influences so that I could just focus on myself first, I felt so happy. I felt excited. And I felt free. It kind of felt like a rebirth. Things made sense that never had before. I felt like I’d just opened up a new world for myself. Obviously, we live in a world where it’s not simple and easy and automatically accepted by everyone. But that doesn’t mean we can’t find all the good there is.

[catboymingi]

mirror, mirror on the wall - veninder chap. 8

navi/masterlist

story masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: slight angst, fluff; soon best friends to lovers

word count: 6.2k

warnings: language

det har været et problem / siden vi blev alene / [...] / det er kærlighed, det kan være svært - it’s been a problem / since we were alone / it’s love, it can be complicated

mingi had no right to be as cute as he was, still running his fingers through your hair as you were about to start another movie, something that was only interrupted by a message to the group chat.

[san]: he either managed to fix things or y/n broke all his bones

[san]: no matter what it is i support you @y/n

you looked at the redhead with an expression you didn’t even know how to interpret yourself, because you didn’t know what exactly was going on in your head; looking at him had been more of an instinct than anything, but apparently it looked questioning or curious, because he started explaining.

“they almost beat some sense into me. i just really didn’t realise that you didn’t hate me until san was about to kill me, so that’s probably why they suspect you might’ve done the same. not that i wouldn’t deserve it.”

and even though the tiny mean part of you agreed that he did deserve it - maybe not to have his bones broken, but some kind of angry outburst - the much bigger part was able to tell that he was clearly still feeling horrible about it and knew that he hadn't meant to hurt you, and that part shut his self deprecation down right when it started.

"you don't. don't say that. you don't deserve to be hurt at all." your hands had gone back to rest on top of his which were still crossed in front of your body, giving them a small squeeze to show that you weren't angry and didn't harbour any thoughts of hurting him in the slightest.

"thank you."

his forehead was resting on your shoulder and you knew he wasn't just thanking you for saying that he did not, in fact, deserve an ass beating, but also for having accepted his apology so readily. as if there'd ever been any doubt about that, but apparently to him there had.

"what do you want to watch now?", you tried to change the topic, because while you weren't angry or upset with him you didn't exactly want to be reminded of being ignored for so long and also the reason why that had even happened in the first place. you wanted to forget that in this moment, just wanted to enjoy his presence and his warmth and that he was there.

"i don't know. do you have a recommendation?"

you thought some, and you did have one, but you weren't sure if you should suggest it. you'd watched random romcoms with him before, but that had been less a matter of recommending and more a matter of just accepting what netflix suggested. you felt a little awkward recommending a romcom, especially now that you were… in a weird emotional situation. or maybe it wasn't weird, but it wasn't one hundred percent clear where exactly you were, either - you were best friends with feelings for each other and an inability to act on them before you could be certain it wouldn't ruin things. were romcoms appropriate in that context?

"you're overthinking." of course he noticed, and you nodded.

"it's silly, but i feel like it's a little different now that there's… like, not even unspoken feelings, but feelings, in the air. i don't want to, i don't know, lead you on? even though it's not like i wouldn't technically want to lead you on, it's just… i don't know how to say it."

he hummed in reply, because while he didn’t worry about anything of the sorts he could understand why you did.

“just try not to worry. what do you want to watch?”

you didn’t want to overthink anymore, didn’t want things to be awkward, so you told him, even though part of you still felt a little odd. it was the first time you were even remotely close to a relationship, so you didn’t exactly know how to act, but you tried to do as mingi said and not worry too much.

“to all the boys i’ve loved before. i’ve watched it like seven times already, and there’s a sequel, too.”

but you still didn’t move to put it on, so he leaned forward, squishing you in a little between his chest and your legs, and put the movie on.

“it’s this one, right? everything is in finnish”, the last part almost a whine because it was near impossible for him to navigate your netflix.

“mhm”, so he put it on, leaning back again and pulling you with him because he wanted to be close to you and he wanted to hold you. then you stayed like this, watching the movie, in comfortable silence except when one of you let out displeased sounds at the main characters’ inability to figure out their feelings or their dumbass behaviour. you watched the sequel, too, and then more movies that were on your watchlist because mingi honestly didn’t care much about what you were watching as long as he got to hold you, first interrupting your spontaneous movie marathon to eat a little. that was the first time he actually had to let go of you that day, and he didn’t like it, but you had to eat so he accepted his fate.

it was getting somewhat dark about one third through the next movie, something that made you feel very cosy and somewhat sleepy, the screen of your laptop being the only thing that was illuminating your room. it wasn’t late enough to sleep yet, and you weren’t tired enough to sleep yet, but you were aware of the fact that you’d be incredibly tired quite soon, and you wanted to ask mingi if he wanted to stay the night, not if he was still awake enough to go home.

“mingi?” you were surprised that you already did sound somewhat tired - it was probably just because you were so comfortable, and also because crying all week had exhausted you.

“hm?” his voice came from above you, his chin resting on your head as it had for most of the movies.

“where do you want to sleep tonight? we have uni tomorrow.”

“can i stay here?” his voice made it clear that he half expected you to say no, but you wouldn’t.

“if you want to? that’s why i asked.”

“i’ll text the boys to bring my bag. or we could go fetch it together?”

you thought for a moment, then made a decision.

“can we stay at your place? i kind of want to go over when i’m not crying. and your bed is bigger.”

not that you’d need a lot of space - whenever you shared the bed you were wrapped so tightly around each other that you might as well be a single person -, but he agreed. the boys would probably be glad to see that you were doing better, and it might spare him an ass kicking if he brought you over without having broken your heart.

“which movie is this? we can finish it there.”

you texted him the name, then replied to the boys, whose previous messages you had ignored and who were making bets on whether or not mingi was still intact.

[y/n]: were coming over soon and i want ice cream

where the ice cream idea came from, you didn’t know. you just knew that you wanted ice cream now. it was a spontaneous craving, but one that the boys seemed to be willing to fulfil.

[yunho]: which flavour?

[san]: and do we need to plan for mingi too or did you knock out his teeth?

[y/n]: wouldnt he need even more ice cream if id knocked out his teeth tho?

[y/n]: but hes fine

[y/n]: and surprise me

“i don’t think san’s going to let me live this down anytime soon”, the redhead almost whined, and even though you hadn’t even done anything you felt like you should apologise.

“sorry he’s so angry at you.”

“don’t apologise. he just really cares about you, i can’t blame him”, then, to distract you before you’d start overthinking again, “let’s go.”

you shut down your laptop and grabbed your university bag along with your wallet, keys and phone charger, and then you left to the boys’ place, almost falling asleep on the train ride, but if you had your best friend would’ve carried you without hesitation. since you managed to stay awake he opted for carrying your bag instead, holding your hand all the way just so he could be sure you’d stay there with him. sure, the risk of you randomly running away was small, but never zero, and he wasn’t about to risk anything. and he just really enjoyed holding your hand, now having full permission to simp because you were apparently simping as well, though he wouldn’t call it that for you. you were cute, he was embarrassing, or so he felt.

“my favourite!”, san greeted you as soon as you entered, forcibly removing you from mingi because he decided it was necessary to hug you tightly even though he’d last seen you this morning. your linked hands hadn’t gone unnoticed, though, so his next words were him asking you if that meant he had to sleep by himself again.

“i’m sorry, sannie”, and you genuinely seemed to be, because he had been there for you all week and you felt a little bad for “ditching” him like this, even though he’d never blame you or be actually upset. he’d just threaten mingi to wait and see what would happen if he dared to break your heart again, because as much as he’d enjoyed having you there to cuddle he most definitely hadn’t enjoyed the fact that you’d been crying your eyes out on the daily.

“just give me half of your ice cream and i’ll forgive you”, and “deal” you said because it felt like a fair compromise.

“no bones have been broken?”, seonghwa, who had now entered the living room/hallway area as well, asked, and the tall idiot shook his limbs (and managed to kick your lower leg in the process) to show that he was still entirely intact.

“yet”, san warned, glaring at his friend because he’d noticed you flinch when he’d accidentally kicked you.

“don’t hurt him, he needs to dye my hair on tuesday”, you tried to convince the black-haired boy to leave your best friend alone, and that worked as a distraction, because now he was excitedly asking about which colour you’d chosen.

“technically, i chose”, mingi felt the need to make known, because while he wasn’t going to reveal the embarrassing almost-kiss and the following rejection he did want to somehow let the others know that he was still special, still your best friend. like a kindergartener arguing about who was cooler.

“which colour did mingi choose, then”, san repeated his question with the slight alteration, rolling his eyes but smiling because things seemed to be okay again.

“red”, you informed him and the other boys that were now all gathered in the living room and about as curious as san about your soon-to-be makeover.

“is that why your hair looks like this right now? preparation for a whole new look?” yunho hadn’t asked with any malice, but you’d honestly forgotten the mess your hair was whenever you brushed it, especially if you went outside after having brushed it, any humidity higher than 2% leaving you looking like your hair had exploded.

“that’s just what it’s like when i brush it”, exasperated because you were scared they’d think it looked bad - your parents, who had the straightest hair you’d ever seen (which had frequently left you wondering if you maybe were adopted), had always thought it looked bad and told you to straighten it to fit in better, even though there was absolutely no use to straightening it because if you didn’t empty an entire can of hairspray on your head the humidity would make it explode again in no time.

“if you do this in red that’s going to look really cool”, jongho told you, and you were strangely relieved. your hair was quite a source of insecurity, so you were glad they didn’t hate it.

“where’s the ice cream?”

your cravings were still going strong, you wanted ice cream now, and you also wanted to change topic from your hair to something with less focus on you.

“we got several flavours, so you can pick and the rest has to accept whatever you leave for them”, and because yunho had been the one to get the ice cream the boys didn’t even have the right to protest when he explained the rules of ice cream division.

“san, do you like banana?”

the boy in question nodded, so your choice was made. mingi fought for the right to be the next to choose and picked the second tub of banana flavour, and the rest managed to solve it a little more democratically. san was considered the least democratic, however, seeing how he not only had his own but also a third of yours (he’d been joking when he said he wanted half of yours, but you wouldn’t leave him alone until he’d accepted a third of it, at least), and mingi turned out to be more democratic than expected, having fought for the second tub of banana so he could share with you and avoid you getting less ice cream than the rest when you’d been the one to ask for ice cream in the first place.

once the ice cream was devoured everyone moved to do their thing, which, in the case of mingi and you, was finishing the movie you’d started at your place. rewatching, rather, because you couldn’t be bothered to look for where you’d left off. after that you decided to sleep, having to borrow clothes from your best friend again because you’d forgotten to bring a pyjama. he was glad about it, secretly, though he’d never admit it, because he thought you looked cute drowning in his clothes, it made him feel soft.

“goodnight, teddy bear”, laying half on top of him because you’d missed sleeping in his arms and because he was warm and comfortable.

“goodnight, y/n.” and though it wasn’t quite how it should be yet, though you weren’t his, he was happy.

//

having to leave you alone for class was the worst thing life could possibly demand from him, but life didn’t care. he (and the other boys, but that didn’t matter much to him) got to spend lunch with you, though, and you still hung out after university, even though you didn’t need to teach him anymore. monday was over fast, tuesday was almost there, and he was hardly able to fall asleep even though you were again half on top of him because he was so excited to get to dye your hair.

“you’ll look so cool tomorrow”, he informed you when you wanted nothing more than to sleep, but you couldn’t even be mad at him keeping you up because he seemed so excited. more excited than you, even.

“only if you do a good job”, you teased, head on his chest and able to hear his heart race.

“i definitely will.”

“what do i get if you don’t?”

it was just jokes, but he took his chance to make some sort of advance, because while he did want to show you that he genuinely did like you a lot he was still nervous about actually acting on it. what if you’d think he was stupid?

“a cinema date, and i get you all the snacks you want.”

“will you sleep if i say okay?”

you were trying to hide the giddy feeling in your chest by teasing him like this, but you were also starting to get incredibly tired - the clock had already crossed the line between monday and tuesday, and you just wanted to sleep. class wasn’t all too early the next day, but both you and mingi would have to get up early since you were planning to buy the hair dyeing essentials before university, so you needed the sleep.

“fine.” he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep right away, but he could try, at least. and stop moving so incredibly much.

“okay. now sleep, you need to do a good job tomorrow.”

“goodnight”, pressing you tight to his chest because he’d just scored a second date with you.

//

“can you please just turn off your alarms, just one single day?”, the redhead whined out the next morning when it was 5am again and he was forcefully removed from the land of sleep by the tone he’d come to hate because it did this every single morning he woke up with you, and you just plain refused to turn your alarm off by this point.

“maybe if you ask really nicely. good morning.”

then you crawled out from his embrace to turn off the alarm for now, looking at him with a smile on your face. he was still so tired - he’d gotten maybe four hours of sleep because of your inability to get up at a normal time -, and he looked adorable, rubbing his eyes for like ten seconds just to force himself to be a little more awake.

“good morning”, he replied, even though he was still somewhat grumpy at your alarm. he just couldn’t not say it.

“today’s the big day”, the day where you’d finally go back to looking more like you, and also the day where you’d match with the sleepy idiot in your bed. though he seemed significantly less sleepy as he realised that he’d be dyeing your hair today, sitting up so fast you wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d lost balance and fallen off the bed.

it seemed to be pure torture to have to wait for a more appropriate time to leave the flat, seeing how he was constantly checking his phone for the time, but it only left him all the happier when it was finally time to leave. he’d gotten dressed hours ago, in an attempt to get time to pass faster because maybe it would if the time gods saw that he was ready to leave - which it, much to his dismay, hadn’t at all, but it didn’t matter anymore now that he finally got to leave.

the store was near university and he bought everything for you, not wanting to let you pay because it felt like it was a treat for him that you were letting him dye your hair so he didn’t want you to spend money on it, even though you were just as excited. then you went to class, and you were relieved he was there with you when one of the girls approached you when you were about to sit down.

“oh, you went back to the old boytoy? didn’t like the one we picked?” her voice was sickly sweet, and if you hadn’t been clinging to mingi’s hand the way you were he probably would have done something he’d regret later.

“this boytoy is more than ready to do things you really wouldn’t want me to do if you try shit like that again”, steam coming out of his ears if that were anatomically possible, “so i suggest you fuck off.”

you were glad he was towering in front of you, protecting you with his body from someone that was supposed to be your friend, because while the girls hadn’t left you alone since the party reminders of it still hurt. and they’d especially hurt last week, when the redhead hadn’t been there with you, something that hadn’t gone unnoticed and given them a reason for even more teasing. you just wanted to forget all about it and you didn’t want to see the smug expression that would without a doubt be on her face.

“you’re no fun”, but she did leave and you visibly relaxed, the grip on the red-haired giant’s hand loosening.

the class went okay with him there, lunch with the boys was fun (they were teasing a certain redhead about how he seemed to be attached by the hip to you), and the last class of the day went by without any major happenings, either, and then, then it was finally time to go home and dye your hair, something mingi’d been waiting for ever since you told him he could do it. the train ride felt way longer than it usually was, and he decided to pick you up and run with you because he didn’t want to be so slow, a plan that was quickly discarded because running with you on his back did prove to be slightly more difficult than anticipated. he still urged you to hurry, though, and because you were physically unable to not do what he asked you to when he was excited like this you ran the last hundred metres to your dorm’s building, laughing loudly when you were at the door.

once inside he immediately beelined for the bathroom, wanting to start right away, but you told him you’d have to brush your hair first if you wanted a decent dye job.

“can i do it again?” and of course he could, because he was, admittedly, better at doing so without hurting you than you were yourself.

his movements were careful and he once more managed to get rid of all the knots without any major pain, running his fingers through your hair to make sure he hadn’t missed anything before going over to his bag and getting out something that looked suspiciously much like one of his t-shirts.

“i always wear this when i dye my hair, and since it’s already dirty i thought i’d bring it along”, he explained himself, throwing the shirt towards you so you could put it on.

“let me in when you’re dressed.”

your best friend put on the plastic gloves in the meantime - he’d had to buy new ones because your hands were definitely much smaller than his, and so were your plastic gloves -, waiting for his cue to start the dyeing ministrations on your hair. he most likely had a worse case of nerves than you did, because you knew how to treat your hair and he had no idea and he was scared that he’d mess up big time and you’d violently kill him for ruining your hair.

“get to work, teddy bear”, you told him when you opened the bathroom door, and you didn’t need to tell him twice. he prepared the bleach (with some help from you because if the bleach wasn’t just the right texture your hair simply would not accept it and dyeing wouldn’t work), then he carefully spread it on your hair, starting with the tips and working up so your scalp would get a break and you’d be spared the bleach sting for as long as possible. he was careful and you really enjoyed the feeling of his hands in your hair, the attention he was paying to his job, making sure he didn’t miss a spot.

you looked absolutely silly with the blueish paste in your hair, but that was half the fun of dyeing hair, looking like a complete mess until the job was done. because of the amount of hair and bleach you waited in the bathroom rather than doing something else until it was time to wash it out, mingi checking how light your hair was every now and then.

when both of you were pleased with the result he told you to lean over, carefully kneeling next to you, who was now on all fours with only your upper body leaning into the shower, and checking the water temperature before he went to wash out the bleach. his movements were slow and soft, making sure every last bit of bleach was gone before he handed you the towel that you’d used before whenever you dyed your hair black and which was, as a consequence, already covered in colourful little splotches of badly washed out dye and residue pigment that was coming out after showering. when he realised that you wouldn’t be able to grab it without either dripping onto the bathroom floor and all over yourself or landing face first on the shower floor he started drying your hair for you, too, attempting one of those towel turbans but not very successful at it.

“thank you”, you said once you’d sat up, smiling at him. he smiled back, then told you to dry your hair so he could see what you looked like blonde and finally put the red in.

“you’re so impatient”, but you were laughing because it was kind of cute, if you were being honest.

“yes, so hurry up.”

you had no choice but to comply, drying your hair as much as possible with the towel before asking him if he was ready for the big reveal.

“just show me”, the so far still lone redhead whined, and you finally did as he’d begged you to, showing him what you looked like blonde.

“so?”

he didn’t know what to say, because he thought you looked stunning, but he also didn’t want to embarrass himself by saying so when you weren’t even going to keep this hair colour. but maybe one day he’d have to go blond with you.

“if we weren’t going to match i’d tell you to keep this” was how he decided to let you know that he really liked it without seeming all too whipped. but maybe it was time to be whipped, because he did want to show you that the feelings you seemed to doubt were genuine, from his side. so, he added: “you look really beautiful with blonde hair.”

“let’s hope i look good with red, too.” he’d flattered you and you were a little flustered, so you tried to get his attention away from your looks and back to the task.

“you will.”

he first noticed that he hadn’t opened the dye when he was already wearing the plastic gloves, sending a sheepish grin your way and asking you to please open it for him. you did as asked, handing him the little tube so he could continue, and he once more carefully put the dye in, trying really hard to not miss a spot and spread it evenly. then you waited, again, until it was time to wash it out, which he did with the same amount of care as the first time.

once it was all washed out, however, he near caused you a heart attack.

“i think i messed up”, mingi informed you, and your head shot up in fear without caring about the fact that you’d be dripping all over the bathroom floor, because you half expected your hair to be falling out. you rushed over to the mirror, trying to see just how bad it was.

“what are you talking about? it looks great!” relieved that you would not have to rock a buzzcut again, because growing your hair out after the first had been a pain and you were so glad that it was as long as it was again, chest length and still going strong.

“no, i definitely messed up”, and now that you were able to look at him you saw the playful glint in his eyes, “so i owe you a cinema date.”

“you’re a fucking idiot”, heart still racing from the moment of panic he’d caused you, “if you scare me like that again you’re not going to get any date, ever.”

his expression quickly changed from playfully teasing to a very specific emoji, one with big, sparkling eyes, as he apologised.

“i’m sorry, please forgive me, please don’t do that”, something that only worked because you were so incredibly soft for him, especially when he looked like that.

“fine, i forgive you. but you can just ask for a date instead of near killing me.” how you managed to act like the butterflies in your stomach weren’t doing somersaults was beyond your comprehension, but you stayed cool, something you were happy about. relationships were weird and somewhat intimidating, as were feelings, and you didn’t want to make it even more intimidating and embarrassing by showing him just how excited you were about the idea of going out with him.

“let me try again, okay?” and before you had a chance to reply he continued: “will you let me take you out on a cinema date this week?”

“yes, but now we need to dry my hair before i ruin your shirt”, because the dye-water mixture that was dripping from your tips was leaving small stains already.

“it’s fine, that’s why i brought this one.”

but he still dried your hair for you, carefully, before looking at the finished makeover.

“do you like it?” you were nervous, fiddling with his shirt because what if he regretted his idea now? what if he thought you looked stupid?

“yes! you look cute, but also really cool, i don’t know, but it suits you so well.”

“i’m glad.” then, grabbed by the sudden desire to hug him, you wrapped your arms around him tightly.

“thank you for dyeing my hair.”

even though your hair was still moist and a little uncomfortable against his cheek he held you just as tight, happy that you seemed to like your new colour.

“do you want to go to my place? show the boys.”

you wanted to keep hugging him, but you’d have to stop that sooner or later anyway, so you might as well.

“okay. but you help me decide what to wear tomorrow.”

he followed you to your closet, and for the first time since he’d known you did he notice that it was divided, in a way, that you had two shelves for pants, shirts, skirts and so on. you pointed to one side of the closet - the shirt shelves were next to each other at the same height, as were the others -, telling him that this was where you kept the remnants of your alternative phase.

“can i take some clothes out? so i can get a better look.”

you nodded and soon half your closet was spread on the bed because he wanted to try putting together different outfit combinations.

“hold on, i have something i just remembered”, you interrupted him, walking over to your closet and fetching something from a drawer he hadn’t dared to open because he suspected he might be greeted by your underwear. you didn’t fetch underwear, though, instead throwing several pairs of fishnet tights at him, then a pair of what he assumed to be socks, and then, the biggest surprise, thigh garters.

“maybe this helps spice things up”, and it did, because you also owned a pair of red fishnets, something he chose as the base for the outfit. then, black high-waisted shorts with a distressed hem, an oversized black crop top (that crop tops could be oversized was new to him, but he imagined it would look cute), and of course, the socks that revealed themselves to be thigh highs and the spiked thigh garters that had almost cost him an eye when you’d thrown them at him carelessly.

“this?”

the redhead was curious to see what you’d think of his amateur alt attire - he had no idea if you’d like it, but at least he knew you weren’t opposed to the clothes as individual items because they were quite literally yours.

“i think you have a secret alt girl hidden somewhere deep inside you, and she broke free when she saw my clothes”, you joked, though obviously approving of what he’d picked out.

“just don’t like her more than me”, joining in on the joking, pouting at you before a grin spread on his face because he wasn’t able to hold it in anymore.

you collected the outfit he’d picked out, some makeup and your pyjamas, then you texted the boys that mingi was coming with a surprise.

you hadn’t bothered to change out of the hair dye shirt, your hair was still slightly damp, and your friend had red splotches on his forearms from where the gloves hadn’t covered his skin. it was pretty obvious that he’d just dyed your hair, which the two of you thought was kind of fun; maybe it was just the excitement from your first somewhat-date, but both of you were full of energy still, even though the dyeing was done already.

when you were in front of their door mingi texted the boys, telling them to gather in the living room and keep their eyes closed - he’d check, he informed them -, and while you were kept outside until he’d checked you luckily didn’t have to wait for long because they’d done as asked.

“open!”

you were the surprise, sporting a bright red hair colour and your hair looking straighter than they’d ever seen it, even though it was slowly regaining its regular curliness and puffiness.

“you look like you’re way too cool for us”, yunho decided, and the others agreed.

“that’s because she is”, mingi let them know nonchalantly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you against him. he hadn’t considered how that would leave him unable to decently walk, though, starting to waddle towards his room while gently pushing you to move along with him.

“we’re going to watch a movie”, and off he went.

“what movie are we gonna watch?”

you were half sitting, half laying on his bed, watching him as he got out his laptop and joined you, motioning for you to make room for him so he wouldn’t fall off. his bed was big, sure, but you had to actually make use of that space, which you were very much not doing, leaving barely enough room for him if he were to lay on his side, which wasn’t the best movie predicaments. you readily scooted closer to the wall, though, sitting up more so you’d be able to watch him choose the movie.

“i don’t know, it feels like we’ve already watched so many.”

he was right; you’d watched about a dozen different movies by now, maybe more, so you were slowly running out of options.

“we could listen to music? just relax a little.”

“but we’re not going to listen to those songs you put on at the pyjama party”, he told you. “they weren’t exactly relaxing.”

“you can pick.”

he did, selecting some random relaxing lo-fi beats playlist on youtube. and because you were going to relax he put the laptop on the ground, laying down and making some grabby hands-adjacent movement at you so you’d come cuddle with him. and you did, wrapped yourself around him the way he’d been wrapped around you during your first movie night, an arm and a leg slung around him and your head not on his shoulder, not on his chest, but the space in between, and both of his arms were around you. he drew on your back, nothing in particular but just because you’d told him once that the movement relaxed you, switching which hand he used when the current arm started to feel heavy but not stopping even for a second. this situation made him happy, having you there and everything being calm; he wished it could last forever.

“are you tired?” mingi didn’t know why he’d asked - maybe because you weren’t moving at all, maybe because your breathing was slow and even, maybe because he was a little bit tired himself.

“mh, not really? just cosy. you’re like a big soft teddy bear.”

he felt so warm when you told him that, full of joy, full of soft feelings. you hadn’t talked about your feelings after that embarrassing and incredibly emotional situation at your place on sunday, but knowing that he did hold a special place in your heart, that you did like him the way he liked you, was enough to already make his heart grow to twice its regular, anatomically correct size.

his hands continued roaming your back, taking turns, sometimes trying to draw an actual shape, a heart, on your back, thinking you wouldn’t notice because you didn’t expect him to actually try to draw, but after several secret hearts you did notice that sometimes his movements seemed more coordinated, and then you noticed that he was drawing a heart, something that made you smile. he obviously wasn’t expecting you to realise what he was doing, so it was a genuine display of affection, not at all to convince you that he did like you but just because he wanted to.

even though both of you were convinced that you weren’t actually tired your eyes started feeling heavy about an hour into the playlist, despite the fact that it was barely past nine, and even though you maybe shouldn’t be sleeping in your street clothes you couldn’t be bothered to change, especially not when you realised that getting changed would mean waking up the gentle giant, whose movements had stopped and who was snoring just a little bit in your arms. you couldn’t possibly wake him up, and you couldn’t possibly bother him to turn off the laptop, so you just rubbed your cheek against the soft fabric of his shirt and closed your eyes, ready to doze off as well.

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Chapter 2

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing

A/N: Here is chapter two! Cast members are what Disney calls its employees. Italics are internal thoughts. Tag list is open, please send an ask if you would like to be added. Likes, comments, and reblogs are wonderful.

Chapter 1

When he added you on Twitter, that was strange enough. You could reason it out that he saw your name spread through the tagged post and he did it on a whim. Or maybe he followed a lot of people. But that one was easily debunked after a quick glance at his profile showed he only followed about three hundred people. Maybe he was just friendly in that way. A quick add here and you’d be unfollowed by Thanksgiving. There was no chance he actually liked you as a person. Right?

You hit reply before you could overthink it more than you already had.

Y/N: I’m not always grumpy, I’ll have you know.

Y/N: Are you guys still on vacation or back home?

When he didn’t immediately reply, you decided to put your phone away and actually go to sleep. You’d be bringing Jana coffee in the morning which meant you actually had to get up before noon.

Your alarm sounded at eight which it hadn’t done in at least a year. Since you worked mainly on assignment, you rarely went into the office until well past noon. Some days you didn’t even go in. You were a night owl, so unless there was a morning meeting you slept in. Living alone also brought less interruptions to your schedule. You’d been in your sleepy vacation style home for the last two years. Your father regularly lectured you on the importance of homeowner ship. Paying rent wasn’t doing anything to build equity. Blah. Blah. Blah. He was only looking out for your future, but between lectures about settling down and having a family, the house stuff pushed you over the top. You still weren’t sure where you wanted to end up, so buying wasn’t on the top of your priority list.

Florida really was a mixed bag. Between the retires that lived in Florida during the winter months, the tourists, the general crazies that you heard about on the national and local news each night, and those like yourself that were just trying to live your life, you never officially settled in. The ocean called to you, but the pricey lifestyle and fear of evacuating each year due to a hurricane did not. Being fifteen minutes from both the Disney and Universal parks would also be nice, but the traffic and long lines at Target were not appealing. You were currently living in a cute two-bedroom home fifteen minutes outside the parks bubble where life was a little more affordable and groceries weren’t inflated. It was still technically a vacation rental, but the owner liked the idea of having a long-term leaser. The fact that it had its own pool that you didn’t have to maintain was just an added bonus. Driving into Orlando wasn’t great, but at least you missed the bulk of rush hour by sleeping in.

You texted Jana to let her know you just pulled in to the parking lot. Balancing your laptop bag, oversized purse, and two coffees through a busy office rotunda wasn’t easy. Thank goodness for stylish flats. If you had to navigate in heels every day, you’d probably never get out of bed. God bless Jana. How she handled it, you had no idea.

The security desk knew you by name, but due to protocol, Jana actually had to sign you in. After exchanging a few good mornings, you set both cups on the desk and waited. Most of the time she was already in the lobby when you walked through the double doors. No doubt this was a form of punishment for not telling her about meeting the two boys from Boston. Not that you looked that up or anything. You totally didn’t Google anything that night when you got home. And she calls you the brat. Ten minutes later her smiling face walks out of the elevator and up to the security desk. She signs you in while you stare her down.

“Let’s go pokey,” she says before turning away from you, leaving you to carry your bags and both of your coffees.

You huff but manage anyway, making it to the waiting elevator she holds open with her hand.

“Did you know Phil’s wife just had another baby?” She shakes her head no. “Yeah, it’s their third. These are things I wouldn’t know if you didn’t take your sweet time signing me in. Coffee’s cold by the way,” you add for good measure.

“I already had some, that’s fine,” she said, one eyebrow pointed daring you to complain.

When the elevator stops on the twelfth floor, Jana gracefully exits on three inch heels, swaying her hips in the tight and posh pencil skirt with matching blazer. You get it. It’s a well-established law firm full of sharks all trying to get ahead. She exudes confidence. There are whispers of her making partner in the next year. At least that’s what Brooks has told you. Jana’s mum on the subject, not wanting to jinx or tempt fate or whatever.

You drop her coffee in the trash bin just outside the elevator doors and hurry after.

“Y/N! Nice to see you gracing us with your presence.”

Jana turns around to see Ethan’s predatory stare. You don’t mind it. Ethan’s a sheep in wolf’s clothing and has been coming on to you for the better part of a year. He’s good looking with his sandy brown hair coiffed in the front and bright green eyes. He’s up for partner as well. You know this because he tells you this at least once a week. He’s harmless and always has a kind word for you.

“Well, good morning to you too. Any word on getting partner yet?” you practically whisper. You have to give him something.

“Soon. It’ll happen.” He looks behind you and then meets your eyes again. “Here by yourself? Come to see me?” he asked.

You gesture behind him. “Nope. Just here to see my bestie.” You move past him, but turn your head to him as you do. “Have a good day, Ethan,” you reply.

Jana enters her office and closes the door after you enter. You take a seat in front of her desk as she walks around to sit behind it.

“Are you ever going to throw him a bone? Not that I want to see you with him, but it’s hard to watch sometimes,” she says picking up her phone, fingers moving quickly before setting it back down.

“Am I here to talk about Ethan? I thought I was here to beg for your forgiveness and tell you what happened,” you asked.

“Grovel first. Ethan next week,” Jana says with a smile. She taps her desk in a ‘speak now’ fashion.

Taking a quick sip of your coffee before setting it on her desk, you take a deep breath and lick your lips.

“Okay, so I found a table at Nomad, which was packed by the way. The sever was apparently pulling double duty as Mickey as she just never showed up. You know me, I was impatient and probably drew attention to myself with excessive eyerolls or whatever.”

Jana mouths “no way.”

“Anyway. Scott Evans was sitting at a couch across the aisle from my table. I didn’t know it was him until later. Apparently, I caught his attention, so he bought us both a drink and sat at my table. We chatted for a while, did a shot, no big deal.” You smirk and shrug a shoulder. Jana’s mouth is hanging open. “He somehow drags me to Everest and because they had a cast member with them, we got ushered right to the front of the line where I end up sitting next to Chris. That’s when I knew who I was with. Had no idea before that because I hadn’t talked to Chris at the bar. I thought that was the end of it until you mentioned the photo of me last night. I still hate that ride by the way.”

You down the rest of your coffee because it’s cold, but damnit if you don’t need the caffeine.

“Well, fuck. Who would ever see that coming? It’s a fun story you can tell at parties or I don’t know, to your best friend,” she said.

“Oh, I planned to tell Brooks at work,” you said with a grin.

“Wow. I’m really hurt,” Jana said while clutching her chest.

“You love me.”

“Hmph. Maybe,” Jana added.

You don’t check your Twitter account again until you get home from work. You don’t even want to utter the word Twitter or have it on your screen in case someone sees it and starts asking how you were able to sit next to a celebrity on a ride. You didn’t think anyone would have seen it anyway. No one outwardly admitted to being a die-hard Chris Evans fan at the Sentinel. At least not in the circles you ran in.

Grabbing yourself a beer from the fridge, you made your way onto your lanai. The weather had just started to become reasonable at night with temps dropping into the mid seventies after dark. Still warm, but comfortable.

Opening your Twitter app, you did indeed have a message from Scott.

Scott: I’m pretty sure you’re always sassy.

Scott: Nope, in Boston for the next week. Left the other night.

Y/N: I Hope you all had a good trip.

I mean really, what do you say to someone you just met?

You took the time to go through your follow requests, deleting every one of them as you had no idea who they were. Most likely they were only adding your because they saw that you were tagged in the picture. On the positive, Jana was smart enough to tag your personal account rather than your work account. Your personal account was one you made up in college and did not include your actual name. As hard as it is to keep your anonymity in this day and age, some things you could still keep private.

Your mail notification lit up on the app again so you clicked into.

Scott: Oh my god she’s alive. That was like a full day for you to respond to me.

Oh boy.

Y/N: Sorry. I’m trying to lay low after my Twitter kind of blew up.

Scott: Yeah, sorry about that. Didn’t see that coming.

Y/N: Not like you released the picture. If anyone is to blame, it’s the tequila.

Scott: It’s always the tequila.

 Your new formed friendship continued like that. The two of you messaging each other at odd times of the day and taking several hours to respond to one another. Scott was back in LA, putting a three hour time difference between the two of you. It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake up to see you had a message that came in at three in the morning.

It was just before midnight when you noticed you had a message from Scott.

Scott: It’s been a shit day.

It was only sent about twenty minutes earlier, which was pretty much a record for the two of you in seeing the other’s messages.

Y/N: Do you want to call me?

Crap! Why did I type that? He probably doesn’t want me to have his number. Twitter is one thing. A telephone number is too personal.

You wanted to close the app and get ready for bed, but you were worried that you’d miss a message from Scott in case he did want to talk. Not necessarily on the phone, but in direct messages. You did the only thing that made since, you walked around your house with the phone in your hand and direct messages open. This was your life now. Apparently. If it ever got out that you spent thirty minutes with your phone in your hand while brushing your teeth, combing your hair, removing your makeup, changing into pajama shorts and a tee, and prepping the coffee maker for the morning, you’d blame it on lack of sleep and the neighbor’s dog. When you were about to call it quits and crawl into bed, a message came through.

Scott: What’s your number?

So, we’re doing this.

You replied back with your number and waited. Deciding to crawl into bed in case he didn’t actually call you tonight seemed like a wise choice. The air conditioning was blasting as it always was because you needed to sleep cold, so you pulled your warm flower comforter up to your elbows and waited for a call from your acquaintance that was maybe becoming a friend.

To your surprise your phone did ring with an out of state area code. Answering it on the second ring you heard him sigh when you answered with “Hello, this is Grumpy.”

“Really? I’m the grumpy one tonight, we both can’t be,” he whined out.

“Fine. Fine. Hello, this is Sassy,” you said.

“Better,” he muttered.

“You know, I’m just going to enter you as Grumpy in my phone contacts now,” you said.

“I expect nothing less. You’ll just have to wait to see what I’m adding you as.”

“Why? Are you making a return trip to Florida so soon?” you asked.

“Nah. Maybe Miami, but I’m good on Orlando for a while. Just don’t tell my brother that.”

“And here I was going to invite you to my wedding. One less mouth to feed,” you said, him chuckling at your response. “Was even going to let you get the steak.”

“Wait. Are you really getting married?” He sounded surprised which you weren’t sure how to take.

“Do I not seem the marrying type? I know this friendship is new, but dude.”

“No. No. No. Don’t start that. I just meant that you didn’t mention anyone while we chatted. Just that you were there with friends,” he explained.

“Single as a bird. Wait, that’s not right. Free as a bird?” you laughed out.

“Got it,” he chuckled. “When you do get married, I will be attending.”

“Perfect. You’re back on the short list for steak as your entrée. Now, tell my why you’re having a shit day,” you asked.

 Two weeks had passed with you and Scott exchanging short text conversations each day. You took to calling him before you went to bed once or twice a week if you had a funny story to tell him. Eleven at night your time seemed to be the right time to catch each other. Besides, it was nice to head to dreamland with a smile on your face because Scott always had a joke.

Jana picked up on your happier mood after a week.

“What’s going on with you? And don’t say it’s nothing,” she demanded.

Picking up your pint of beer, you took a mouthful of the amber liquid before addressing her.

“So, don’t get mad.” She shook her head, resting one palm on her forehead. “Scott and I have been chatting. He’s become a real friend.”

You knew she wouldn’t be upset about you having a new friend, but you were worried she would be because you hadn’t told her right away. First you didn’t mention meeting the Evans brothers, now you were corresponding with one on the regular.

“Just like that? You meet the guy one time and now you’re friends?” she questioned.

“He DM’d me on Twitter when that ride photo came out and we just started chatting. It’s like how you and I text every day. It’s similar except I don’t see him because he doesn’t live here. It’s just nice to have a new friend,” you said shrugging your shoulders.

She laid her slender arms on the table, resting her chin on her down facing palms. “Does this mean you are replacing me?” she says with her bottom lip jutting out.

“Of course not. Did you not catch that he doesn’t live here?” Some days you couldn’t help but be a huge smartass at the expense of your friends.

Her head slumped forward even more as she let of a groan.

“Babe. You know you’re my one and only. I lub you,” you said with your lips puckering out.

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“Cah’mon, that’s it. Can you put the damn phone down for two minutes?” Chris asked.

Scott shushed him, placing his fingers in front of his lips, but eyes still locked on the phone screen in his other hand. “Give me a second,” he said.

Chris sighed and sat further back against the couch cushion in his living room. His wide stretched legs kicked out further in front of him, hitting the coffee table before pulling his feet back a bit. “Fuck. Ouch,” he muttered to himself.

Scott chuckled to himself as he typed out something before setting the phone on the cushion beside him. “Now, what do you need big brother?”

“I don’t need anything. You just seem to be more involved with your phone than the person your visiting,” he spits out, hand wildly gesturing in front of his chest.

Scott puffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He straightens up a bit and turns his phone face down. “Sorry. Truly. How’ve you been?” he asks.

“How’ve I been? Pfft. Really?” Chris asks.

Scott shakes his head in all seriousness.

“I’m fine. Just bored out of my fahckin’ mind, but fine.” Chris says, running a hand through his hair before brushing it back down. “Look, I know I said I wanted a break before starting up another project, but I just thought I’d have more goin’ on. Seems like everyone’s so busy all of a sudden. I can only get drinks with Frankie so many times before I want to check into rehab,” he said.

Scott laughed at his brother’s tantrum. “I get it. Wish I was around more. Maybe go back to Mass. Or go to Disney! M’sure I could get Y/N to meet you at Magic Kingdom,” he said.

Chris tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Who?” he asked.

“Y/N,” Scott said matter-of-factly. When the confusion didn’t wipe off Chris’ face, he closed his eyes and shook his head. “Y/N! The woman that you sat next to on Everest. The one in the ride photo.”

Realization struck Chris. “Excuse me. I didn’t remember her name,” he said.

“Ouch. I’ll have to remember not to tell her that,” he said picking up his phone to see a new message from you.

“What do you mean?” Chris asked.

Scott set his phone back down, turning his body to face Chris head on. “Huh?”

“You said you wouldn’t tell her that I didn’t remember her name,” Chris said.

Scott shrugged one shoulder, lifting up one hand in the process before plopping it back on his knee. “Yeah?”

“Wait a minute. Are you still talkin’ to her? How?” Chris asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“That picture. She got tagged in it and I happened to see it. Messaged her on there and now we talk. She’s frickin’ hilarious.”

Scott grabbed his phone again, scrolling a bit before flashing the screen to Chris. It was a picture of you with a woman next to you who had one of the overly large lollipops in her hand. Your mouth is wide open and your pretending to bite the large candy right out of her hand while she laughs in the picture.

A small smile curls up on Chris’ face but he shakes it away immediately. “Dude, you don’t know her. Ever think she’s just nice to you because of who you are?”

Scott rolls his eyes. “First off punk, she’s not like that. She’s pretty private. She didn’t know who any of us were until after you said your name on the ride. Secondly, she didn’t even ask for a photo nor did she try to keep hanging out with us after riding Everest.” Chris rolled his eyes this time. “Thirdly, I contacted her, not the other way around. And lastly, she’s a friend now, so just deal with it.”

Scott was right. You hadn’t behaved like most others would have.

“Fine. Whatever,” Chris said. “You can be friends with whoever you like.”

“Thanks, dad,” Scott said lamely. “Anyway, like I said, she’s great. Her Twitter blew up after that picture. She did a good job of locking her account down and ignoring comments. It’s hard to be pictured with the likes of you.” Chris chuckled and shook his head. “Smart that her handle isn’t actually her name. Crappy that her friend tagged her, but at least she didn’t tag her work one. Like I said, she’s a pretty private person, so she didn’t like the attention.”

Chris nodded his head. “Yeah. Glad it wasn’t worse for her. Think I should apologize?”

It was Scott’s turn to be shocked. His head whipping back and forth a couple of times eyeing his brother. “Okaaay. Not your fault, but maybe don’t add her on Twitter. That’ll just draw more attention. If you’re serious, I’ll give you her number,” Scott said.

“You know what? Never mind. Just tell her sorry for me.” Chris slapped his hands down on his jean clad legs before getting up and walking into the kitchen.

“Too late,” Scott called out. “I just texted you her number. Do what you want.”

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The Jonas Brothers’ concert was tomorrow night, so you were doing your best to get stuff done at the paper before heading home. You planned to sleep in extra late and get some errands done before heading to the venue. Your press pass got you into some reserved places at concerts, but it didn’t get you an interview. While you had been writing and covering entertainment for years, you were mostly known for theme park and tourism coverage in Florida. So, yes you could always land an interview with a Disney Parks or Universal Studios park executive, but other doors in entertainment weren’t flying open.

Grabbing your purse and zip file, you shut down your computer and pushed in your chair. Your phone dinged with a text message. It was probably Jana asking you to get her a t-shirt at the concert tomorrow. Fancy attorney or not, your friend loved a concert tee.

Once you arrived home, you put a frozen meal in the microwave and changed into a pair of sweats and a comfy t-shirt. Grabbing your phone out of your bag, you took a seat sat at your kitchen bar top to wait for your meal to be done. Opening your texts, you saw a new one from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: Hey Y/N, this is Chris. Scott gave me your number.

Unknown Number: Evans

Unknow Number: Should have typed that the first time. Just wanted to say I’m sorry that ride photo got out.

You dropped your phone out of your hand. It hit the quartz countertop hard which jolted you out of your daze.

“What?!” you yelled into your empty home.

It was crazy enough when Scott messaged you, but the fact that the two of you had drank together made this whole friendship make a tiny bit of sense. But Chris now? This was just not real. And it made you feel weird. On one hand it was nice that he reached out even though it wasn’t his fault at all. One the other hand, was this it? The one text and then you move on?

The microwave beeped at your harshly indicating your meal was done. Leaving your phone on the countertop, you moved to grab your food, picking up the hot plate with a potholder. You made your way into the living room, setting the potholder and plate on your lap. You picked up the remote for the TV, flipping through the channels and settling on The Golden Girls. Maybe a little Rose and Dorothy banter could settle your mind.

This was silly. You were going to text him back. Of course, you were going to text him back. You weren’t a rude person. This whole exchange didn’t have to mean anything. This would be a one and done conversation and to Chris you would go on being nothing more than Scott’s friend.

After scarfing down your cheese ravioli, you made your way back to the kitchen to clean up. You eyed the phone on the counter where you left it. You quickly scooped it up and plopped yourself back on the couch, opening Chris’ text again before you could change your mind.

Y/N: Thank you for reaching out, but that photo getting released was not your fault at all. I appreciate the gesture though.

You threw your head back against your couch cushion and groaned. Why am I responding like it’s a work e-mail?

You shot Jana a text to get your mind off of the message you just sent Chris.

Y/N: What size Jonas Brothers shirt am I picking up for you?

Your phone buzzed in your hand before you even had the chance to set it down, but it wasn’t Jana responding. Clicking the back arrow, you saw that Chris had responded.

Wait, he responded? Already? And at all?

Chris: I still feel bad that you were dragged into it.

Chris: Hope I’m not interrupting a Friday night out.

You chewed your bottom lip, trying to think of how to respond. Should you tell the truth that your life is pretty lame and you’re watching The Golden Girls? Did Scott talk about you to Chris? Maybe it was best not to lie.

Y/N: Just hanging out with my friends Dorothy, Blanche, and Rose.

Y/N: You’re actually saving me from another long drawn out story about Rose’s hometown of St. Olaf Minnesota.

Chris: I’m surprised your friend Blanche is home on a Friday night.

Y/N: Oh, you know Blanche? Is this going to become awkward?

Chris: 😂😂😂

Chapter 3

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