#anyway enough procrastinating. i will go back to my own far-too-many-pages effort

[starflungwaddledee]

whenever i work on my kirby secret santa i wonder how the person who got mine is going...

i hope you didn't hate my prompts! i hope there was something you enjoyed and that you are having fun working on your piece! i hope it's going well and you're proud of it. i already know that i will love it!

i also think about how the community is small and the chances of folks knowing each other is fairly high, and so i wonder if you know me maybe, or if you like my work. if you do, hello! i'm thinking about you!

it is just a kind of strange but sweet experience to know that someone is out there right now working on something for you as a surprise! it's nice! i hope my giftee will enjoy their gift too!

[wh6res]

three's a crowd | nomin

synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.

warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.

note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!

the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.

it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.

"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"

stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.

if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.

"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.

"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."

screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.

now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!

the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.

you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.

"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."

this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.

jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.

no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.

he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.

"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"

"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"

"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.

"convince me?"

you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.

it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.

and you weren't stupid.

you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.

"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"

the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.

if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.

you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.

that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.

while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.

it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.

you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.

you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.

but you've overestimated lee jeno.

"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."

"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"

you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.

how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.

"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."

you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?

you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

you've never ran out as fast as you did.

and jeno swears it'll be the last.

you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.

although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.

and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.

but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.

jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.

you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.

although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.

it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.

one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.

so this was how he got them to bully you?

"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"

"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"

all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.

no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.

because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?

we lost :(

you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.

in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.

not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.

tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.

jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.

and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.

jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.

he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.

you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.

as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.

after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.

the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.

you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.

they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.

you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.

"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."

it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.

you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.

you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—

"what are you doing here?"

the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.

"i said, what are you doing here?"

their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.

particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.

particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.

this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.

"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."

coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.

you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.

"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.

fuck this.

"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"

originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.

everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.

you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—

"why are you in such a rush, pet?"

crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.

with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.

jaemin was right.

it was addicting to stare into them.

especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.

jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.

he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.

"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"

no. this can't be happening.

"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."

you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.

with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.

if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.

"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."

the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.

this is really happening.

you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.

"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"

you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.

"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"

his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.

with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.

you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.

"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.

you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.

until it slips and—

you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.

oh no.

"jeno—"

the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.

the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.

until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.

"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"

his patience is nonexistent.

jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.

"are you fucking deaf—i asked you a fucking question!"

the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.

your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.

"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.

"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."

with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.

the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.

"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."

his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.

jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.

the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.

"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"

someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.

you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.

you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.

in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.

it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.

the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.

in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.

you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.

“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.

jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.

while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.

he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.

you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."

you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.

"no—!"

your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.

"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"

you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.

it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.

the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.

you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.

it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.

jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.

you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.

"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.

"jeno, do you see this? fuck."

you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.

you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.

if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.

"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.

"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.

he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"

"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"

you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.

you felt… filthy.

his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.

you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.

"i'm the favorite!"

"i'm the favorite!"

as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.

all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.

you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.

thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.

but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.

"who do you like best?"

you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.

jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?

but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.

because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.

[mel-the-fangirl]

The Escort

Walter Marshall x Reader

Words: 2,064

Warnings: none

Happy super late Valentine’s, Cavillry! As usual, this is a very very late upload but in my defense, it does say in my bio that I am a procrastinator soooo... Anyway, I’m really excited about this miniseries because I love the movie (The Wedding Date, 2005) and I really wanted to write Walter, I hope I do him justice!

Feedback (good and bad!) means the world to me as rookie writer, so I hope you’ll like, reblog and leave me some replies!

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You could not believe you were doing this. You just couldn't. But there you were doing it, even though your mind screeched at you to stop and save a little dignity for yourself.

The fact that you even considered doing this was already a serious loss of dignity points, so what the hell. People did this all the time, didn’t they? There wouldn’t be a whole network of people clumped into this app if it wasn’t a normal occurrence.

It just wasn’t a normal occurrence for you.

Once you filled your head with rationalisations to make yourself feel better, you took a deep breath and began browsing through what the great city of New York had to offer.

Z, 6’, loving hands, fit, athletic, good manners, for water sports, caramel complexion.

For water sports? What in the hell did that mean? And that single initial in place of an actual name? Serial killer vibes. No, thank you.

Lenny, 6’2”, pretty fit Italian, excellent dinner companion, all occasions catered.

Alright. Okay. Now we’re talking. Tall, European, excellent dinner companion equals to good conversationalist, accommodating. Lenny goes on the list of possibilities.

Terry, 6’, my soft voice will arouse you, my strong hands will pleasure you,  let me show you how a woman should be treated, hourly/overnight rates.

Oh no no no. Major creep vibes from Terry. That ad alone had you reaching for another long swig of wine.

Joey, 5’8”, are you into champagne?, bodybuilder, will treat you like a queen.

“If you like piña coladas…” you sang in not even remotely the right key, topping off your drink

Josh, 5’9”, I can make you feel sexy and wanted. Fit, sensual, strong.

“Well!” you exclaimed drunkenly, almost spilling wine on your couch, “Tough beans, Josh! I don’t need a man to make me feel sexy and wanted!” you faltered a bit, your drunk mind still seeing the holes in your logic

“I just… Need a man to help me not look like a tragic spinster in front of my family and my ex...”

With that thought fresh in your mind, you reached for some more wine.

The ads went on and on as you scrolled through your phone, it was all a little overwhelming, how were you going to make sure you weren't hiring some psychopathic serial killing pervert to pose as your date to your sister's wedding?

The groan you let out bounced off the walls of your apartment. The reality of your situation was sinking in little by little. 

Yes. You were hiring a male escort for your sister's wedding. It was your baby sister's wedding, by the way. You were a hundred percent aware that what you were doing was completely and utterly pathetic but you’ve already weighed the pros and cons in your head countless times.

Showing up alone: pitying looks, whispering behind your back, having to face ex by yourself, staggering levels of embarrassment.

Showing up with handsome -hired- date: mother can finally get off your back, date is more handsome than ex, ex will want to shrivel up and die, no one will know date is male escort except you and him.

Now, let’s break down some of the guests just for the sake of being thorough. 

There’s your slightly overbearing mother (slightly meaning every call you have with her opens with the question: “how's your love life, dear?” or “I have the most amazing man to set you up with!”), all of her judgy eagle-eyed friends (mostly rich widows whose sons your mom shamelessly shoves your way), your extended family (some terrifyingly old school great aunts and uncles who will definitely ask if you’re married and smile sympathetically when you say you’re not), and last but certainly not the least, Jeffrey, your ex-fiancé (best man, but apparently not the best man for you, his words not yours).

"Lordy fuck." you exhaled hard, chugging your wine straight from the bottle

How on earth did you get here? Sitting alone in your apartment, working your way through your second bottle of wine (or third? Who was keeping count?), clicking on ads that spoke of "hot single males in your area" waiting to meet you.

Would it be fair to pin it all on the end of your engagement?

Picturing that moment, you decided that it was only fair. Those were five years of your life you would never get back, you were prepared to sign on for more but, yeah.

You were blindsided, that's the only way to describe it. All the while, you thought that you and Jeffrey were on the same page, at the same place in life. You were the golden couple, the couple that all the other couples wished they could be, when you two walked past, girlfriends would give their boyfriends a slap on the shoulder that meant, "Why can't we be more like them?"

It was so out of nowhere, one minute you were discussing wedding cake options over dinner, then suddenly you're putting the ring in his palm, completely in shock. 

After that, you threw yourself into your work despite the fact that you were already a budding workaholic to begin with. That's how you ended up earning six figures a year. 

Six figure salary, check. Doing pretty well in life all things considered, check.

But even with all that, there weren't any conversations over casseroles and cobblers about your many achievements. Nope, your mother and her friends would much rather discuss their worries that you would essentially, die alone.

Your little sister, Amy, getting married before you didn't exactly help to put a lid on all the chatter. And with Jeffrey being the best man? And you being maid of honour? 

It was a disaster waiting to happen.

Maybe you could make up an excuse believable enough to get you off the hook so you wouldn’t have to go?

Were you really thinking about bailing on your little sister’s wedding? If she wasn’t taking cues from your mother, it would be the only one she ever had.

Not one of your finest moments as a sibling.

With the complications of your situation fully realised, you took to reading the ads with a little more effort. Luckily, you didn’t have to look for long.

Nick, 6’, male, tall, good looking, strong build. You will not be disappointed.

The ad was considerably less flashy than the others but you supposed that’s what drew you to it in the first place. It was understated, simple, and his ad wasn’t entirely made up of overcompensating flexing pics.

Mostly because he didn’t need them.

Call off the search, send the boys home. You had a winner here!

Staring up at you from your phone screen was the most handsome man you have ever seen in your life. Literally.

A mane of thick, artfully disheveled curly hair, eyes that were a light shade of blue that had a sort of dark intensity and intelligence that you could spend days trying to understand, and a smile. Oh, that smile was absolutely suckerpunching. It was odd though, something in your head was telling you that this man did not smile often.

You couldn’t tell if the warmth blooming in your chest and creeping towards your cheeks was from all the wine or from examining this prime specimen. Jeez Louise!

“Phew!” you fanned yourself upon stumbling on a photo of him crossing his arms in a tank top. Good God, you hoped he had a license for those guns!

You had to set your phone down for a minute to think things through although it seemed absolutely nuts that you had to think twice at all. It’s just that after the initial excitement and hormones wore off, it was becoming more and more evident that this man was too good to be true.

Just look at him! Were there actually men that looked like that? And why didn’t they live closer to you? A quick sweep of his profile placed him in Minneapolis.

What were the crime rates like there? And did they have a high rate of murders relating to escort services?

Before you could even google anything related to that, you stopped yourself. If you kept at this rate, you would never get anything done! Finally, after a methodical deliberation (aka ogling the pictures on his ad), you saved Nick’s contact number to your phone.

Aaand that’s as far as you’d go for the night. You could call him tomorrow when you weren’t a floundering drunk. It was like your mother always said, “Always be sober for a business transaction, but anything else calls for a cocktail.”

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

The following morning, you sat at your little breakfast nook, eggs still piping hot and untouched, and a hangover in full effect. You’ve been staring at the phone number for so long, you could say it in your sleep.

Come on, Y/N, the wedding is five freaking days away.

What if this guy was fully booked? You didn’t want to spend five days surrounded by family with Mr. my-soft-voice-will-arouse-you, did you?

You slammed your finger down on the call icon and stuck the phone to your ear. Your heart beat faster and faster with every ring and your palms became so slick with sweat that you almost dropped your phone a couple of times. 

Maybe you should have taken your mother up on the multiple occasions that she wanted to set you up with someone. Alright, on second thought, you didn’t really want to be with someone who only looked good on paper but was actually an insufferable mama’s boy.

“Hello?” a male voice answered, catching you off-guard

Oh, God. Okay, you’re really doing this.

“Yes, hi! Hi. Uh, I’m looking for Nick!” you chirped, in a startled high pitched squeak you didn’t dare recognise as your own

The silence on the other end was starting to make you sweat behind the knees. It suddenly dawned on you that you didn’t mention any specifics.

“Uh, sorry! I got this number from the, uh, the ad. I’m looking for Nick?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s right, but Nick isn’t in right now. This is his manager.”

Was that a good sign? That a male escort had a manager? Did all male escorts have managers? You clearly didn’t know enough about this stuff.

“It’s a pleasure, Mister..?”

There was another beat of silence before the person on the other line answered, you tried your hardest not to overthink about what that could have meant.

“Foley! I’m Foley, Nick’s manager.” Mr. Foley’s voice returned to your ear, sounding much too bright for your liking. 

Christ, what were you, a cop? To be honest, you were exhausted. Despite all the alcohol in your system last night, you barely got any sleep. You spent the rest of the night reading through some reviews of Nick’s service as an escort.

He had a glittering five star rating.

One woman hired him to pose as her husband at a high school reunion and by the end of the night, she ended up proposing to him. He respectfully declined and even bought her dinner afterwards.

That review alone was enough to convince you that you would be in good hands. So, it was time to buckle down, swallow the nerves, and handle your business like the adult you were.

“Mr. Foley,” you shook your hair out and put on your professional voice. “I’d like to book your client for five days, give or take. I need a plus one for a wedding. Is he available to leave on the-”

“Please hold. I’ll check his schedule.”

“Oh. But I didn’t mention when I-”

“He’s available. Would you prefer to pick him up at JFK or will he meet you at your place of residence?”

“Oh. Uh, I guess I could pick him up. Do I pay for his ticket or..?” you were feeling a teensy bit of whiplash at how fast this was all going

There was some rustling on the other line and the muffled sounds of bickering. You tried not to let that concern you.

“We’ll handle that, Ms. Y/L/N. We have your number, we’ll be in touch for further details. Good bye.”

The line went dead and you were left staring at your phone in confusion. Did you tell him your name?

[lucysuniverse]

Critical Beauty

Am I the only one who thinks Jo Jinho is perfect just the way he is? Probably not. :D

To be honest I incredibly miss this man so I just wanted to feel him a bit closer while I am writing this story and he is serving in the military.

Happy Birthday Jinho! We love you all. 

Pairing: Jinho x OC/reader

Genre: comfort, romance, angst

Word count: 6081

______________________________

I messed up. Like totally. My dad and those idiot colleagues of mine totally washed my brain. But after all I was the one ruining our relationship completely. And I could not blame him for having the will to break up with me because If I was in his shoes I would have done the same.

-|-

I knew it wasn’t right this way. We lived together for almost a year by now, and I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell him that I was lying to him continuously in order to protect him from pain and save his self-esteem. Or at least this was my intention through-out the years.

We lived in a small flat. This is what we could afford. I just graduated from high-school and he was going to auditions. One after another. He was determined, and he was good. Insanely good. I couldn’t understand what is missing. What do you need more to become a singer? Didn’t he have outstanding vocals? He did. Didn’t he have a bit shy but loveable personality? He did. Didn’t he have sense of humor? HE DID. And on top of that he was handsome. WHAT WAS MISSING THEN???

As his girlfriend my heart was aching to watch all his efforts go to waste after so many years passed. We had a relatively big age gap between us. Well as long as you’re a teenager or young adult even two and a half years difference seem a lot. But later on, it doesn’t really matter. Especially not when you like someone. Because you like them for the person they are.

I loved him so incredibly. Because he was great. He was caring and cute but sometimes surprisingly masculine and very hot. I couldn’t wish for a better man. There was only one thing missing. Actually, not was but were. 5 more inches.

Because although we were quite far from each other in terms of age, we were all the more so close in terms of height. To be honest I guess I might have been smaller than him, but it never felt like that. And every time I thought about this I felt ashamed. Because that was the only thing which gave me hard times. I wouldn’t say I didn’t like his height. I liked everything about him. But sometimes I just wished he was a tiny bit taller, or I was even smaller (if that was possible).

Sometimes I found myself wondering about this: this couldn’t be the reason of him failing all those auditions, right? They can’t be so mean right? If you’ve ever heard a good singer than you would know that Jo Jinho was one of them.

This is why I always told my father to wait just a little. He was really opposing our relationship. I would have understood his concerns if he had real reasons, since I was his only daughter. But what he always said was ridiculous, narrow-minded and I just resent him for that.

“When will he finally stop this stupid joke of becoming a singer. Didn’t he have enough throughout these years?”

“I am fine dad. How about you?” I said as a reply. I was so fed up listening to his bullshit all the time. He heard Jinho singing. And even though he would have never admitted, he knew Jinho was born to be a singer. Anybody could tell. But sadly, in his eyes only those are real men who are lawyers or doctors. When they divorced with mom, he even found me a real man… My dad thought I should go on a blind date with the trainee of his divorce lawyer. He even complimented his ears! Like what the heck! My always logical and strict dad tells me to date the trainee of his divorce lawyer because he has nice ears.

Don’t get me wrong I’ve never thought about leaving Jinho, but my dad nagged me all the time so I checked the guy’s social media pages. Funfact: he was born on the freaking same day in April as Jinho. Am I freaking joke?

“Little woman… I am your dad no need to act like this. But think about your future kids. Will they be also minions?”

“Bye dad it was good to talk to you.” And I hung up. I didn’t want to ignore him. After all he was my dad. But we never had a good relationship. Well a relationship at all. But the irritating thing was that even if I tried to ignore all these comments he made me angry. I couldn’t stop myself. I should not marry Jinho but we are already expecting kids?! And minions? And these are my dad’s words when he himself isn’t a giant either. ARRGGGGHHH!

“Hi babe! Is everything okay?” Jinho asked. And as always, I put on a nice smile and said “yeah, all good.” And I hated myself for that.

-|-

“What is that?” He asked curiously. I didn’t know he was still at home. I wanted to put the box back under the bed as soon as possible but it was too late he saw it.

“Oh this? It is just something stupid. It is not important. Did you leave something here?”

“Yeah, I left my phone on the charger. But don’t change the topic. It must be something important if you were staring at it so dearly.”

“Oh no. You misunderstood.”

“Okay, enough of this. What’s that? Do you have something to hide from me?” And even though he didn’t say this in an offended way there was edge in his voice.

“It’s your birthday gift.”

“My birthday gift?”

“Yeah.” I knew this couldn’t work. But I couldn’t come up with a real acceptable reason.

“It was last month. And procrastination is your middle name so it can’t be for my next one, I am not buying this. So, what is that?”

“I will bring this back okay? I don’t know why I bought this. I must have lost my mind. I just …”

“Oh show me finally.” And before I could give him the box he took it out of my hands.

“You must be kidding me, right?” He asked after 3 minutes of torturing silence.

“Look I am sorry. I know we should be saving money and …. but I can ask for refund and also…”

“You created such a big scene just because of this?” And he was laughing. He was LAUGHING!

“What? Aren’t you mad?”

“Why would I be? Should I?”

“Oh… yeah. I mean no. No. I just thought… I just…”

“You thought I would be upset to found out that my girlfriend is secretly buying a pair of high-heels for herself to feel pretty? I am getting more upset now that I know you felt like you should hide this. Also, why did you think I didn’t want to see your pretty legs in this? I thought you knew me better. If that’s all I am off for work. Bye babe see you in the afternoon.” And he gave me a light kiss on my forehead. And I felt on my skin he was smiling. “And I hope next time I see you, you’ll be wearing these.” And he casually left the room.

I made a fool out of myself. I really thought he would be offended by this. I mean it wasn’t a big deal to give up on high-heels. They weren’t very comfortable anyway and we really had to save money. But I was young and for the first time in my life I felt getting more feminine. Maybe I was already but this time I started to realize.

I thought it was selfish of me having these secret desires to put on a bit tighter clothes and wore high-heels especially when he is not really taller than me, but after having this conversation I was even more encouraged. I knew he didn’t have problems with it and that was all that mattered. I was happily tiptoeing to the office. My colleagues even complimented me.

The girls were jealous for having those nice shaped legs, and the boys… let’s not talk about them. If you think they will become serious once they grow up… Well friend you are totally mistaken. Boys will be boys. But they didn’t cross the line, in their own way they complimented me as well. And I felt confident and happy. All thanks to my sweet boyfriend whom I could always rely on.

I was in a really good mood until the point I let some idiots ruin my day. I couldn’t say they ruined it. I was the one let them do it. I just wish I never overheard their conversation.

“I was wondering why she is never coming to the year-end parties but now I see. The company is not yet prepared for those legs.”

“That was a good one bro. But they say she is just staying home all the time with that hopeless guy. I feel sorry for her to have such a boyfriend.”

“What really? Why aren’t they coming together?”

“Another rumor says it the guy is a dwarf. So, she is rather staying home with him.”

“Wow. How do you know so many things?”

“Resources…”

“Which girl then?”

“The blondie in the red jeans.”

“Mmmmmh.”

“Stop it she is mine.”

“Until when?”

“Tonight. Then you can have her.”

“You are disgusting man. Well done.” And they laughed.

“Ah but that sweetie. I really feel sorry for her. Having that boyfriend can be very burdensome.”

“Oh yeah. If I was her boyfriend, I would make sure she feels good in every situation.”

“You mean every position.”

“Exactly.” And they laughed again. “You know me so well.”

I felt dirty. It’s not like they did anything specific to me. They were just fantasizing. But I felt fucking dirty in that moment. I wanted to erase this conversation from my head but instead I heard their words repeatedly in my head.

I heard my shoes making that irritating sound on the street while I was going home. With every step I felt smaller and smaller. I regretted wearing that stupid high-heel… So as soon as I arrived home I put them back in their box cleaned, ready to bring them back to the shop. I would want to throw them away instantly but then suddenly I thought about Jinho.

We need to spare money. He needs to buy some nice clothes for the next audition. And also, we barely manage to pay the bills since I just started studying in the med school and next to collage it is quite hard to work. Sometimes I thought maybe I should just quit dreaming about becoming a doctor but there was a senior doc, my supervisor who inspired me a lot. Last month he helped that well-known celebrity couple. He said the lady had some complications while she was giving birth to their little girl but the doctor helped them and finally the little Daisy was born healthy. Some of my fellow classmates said he even resembles Jinho…. I don’t know why.

Talking about Jinho, he was quite clueless when he found me eating the third bowl of ice cream and watching Lovely Complex.

“You are still watching this?”

“Anime is not only for kids. And well I’ve just become an adult anyway, meaning I am still a kid. Let me be. Oh and if you go to the kitchen can you bring me the last Ben & Jerry’s? I know I shouldn’t be buying these but I just felt like having a pajama party on my own. Thanks babe. ”

“Look.” And he sat down next to me and slowly took away the Ben and Jerry’s from my hands to put it on the table. “Can we talk about today morning?”

“Sure. But what is there to talk about?”

“I hate it when you act like this. And the funny thing is that you know I do.” He smiled bitterly. I was aware of it. None of us were stupid. Well… we both were very clever to be honest. When I acted silly it was either out of fun or I was trying to hide something. Just like now.

“Okay. Sorry.”

“I feel like you are kind of disappointed in me. And I just wanted to let you know and thank you for enduring all these days and months together with me. I know that even if you don’t tell me that it is hard to tell your parents that I still didn’t make it.”

“Jinho it’s not your fault.”

“That is showbiz, I know. The only thing that hurts me is that when I started this utterly long and unpredictable journey, it was me and only me. But since then we found each other, and me failing all the time is not only an individual concern. We are a team. And I am not a good team mate. You just graduated and want to become a doctor. And I should support you.”

“Jinho you’ve already done so much for me, you can’t even imagine. And you do every single day. Even today. So, don’t just please don’t say you don’t support me, when you support me the most.”

“But then what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“Even after so many years I’ve never met your colleagues and I hardly ever meet your dad. I know you are working part-time and you are tired from doing college and your job at the same time but these parties could help you relieve stress a bit.”

“I don’t want you to meet those idiots.” And well, this was true. Not only because they would make a joke out of us, but after today I was kind of ashamed of working with those bastards.

“But I guess not all of them- oh what’s this? I am sorry babe but I need to pick this up, we will catch up on this okay?”

A producer called him. Or should I say the producer? The one who just became a dad. The one whose wife gave birth to the little Daisy in our hospital with the help of my professor. That producer. I was insanely happy. Finally, good news. I couldn’t bear anything bad any longer. But the worst was yet to come.

-|-

We were walking hand in hand on the streets. Finally, a promising audition. It was on Saturday so I could go with him to the company and show some support as I should. Once the audition was over Jinho shook hands with the producer. I could imagine them working together. I even found cute how they were both quite small.

Jinho said they would contact him later, but he had a good feeling about finally making it. I was so happy. I’ve never saw him so hopeful after an audition. When we were leaving the company there were six model like people nearing us. I was sure they just walked out of Vogue. The two most likely European girls alongside the four men suited each other very well. But not all the boys were Korean. One boy’s appearance shouted “Shanghai Prince” the other’s “Nagano Prince” but don’t ask me why. I just had this feeling.

I don’t know how Jinho felt but I was in awe. They looked stunning. Flawlessly chitchatting about a Flower Shop in the nearby. I always thought models have other topics to talk about. Well the owner of that shop must have done something very well then to become a hot topic.

“They were cool right?” He asked suddenly.

“Yeah.”

“Just wait a little longer. I will become one of them anytime soon.”

“I know.”

And I really knew that he would succeed. He was supposed to be a singer. I even imagined myself becoming his manager. I loved helping people. And I was determined about med school, but for him I could have given up on it. I knew with his music he may be curing more people in his life than me as a doctor. So after all our goal was the same.

              As we were nearing home familiar faces were getting closer. The two guys that bullied me in high school. They always had something against me. If I had red nails I was a slut if I wore a turtleneck they called me a nun. They ate my lunch, stole my notebooks etc. Same old thing. Bullies are so uncreative.  

              “Oh hi dear. Long time no see.”

              “Hi guys.” And I started to panic but wanted to grab Jinho’s hand and leave as soon as possible.

              “Hey its Saturday, why such a hurry? Knowing you, you don’t have any plans or invitations, do you?”

              “I am sorry boys, but we will be leaving.” Jinho said firmly.

              “Oh, did you see someone? I heard a voice but I don’t know where it comes from.” One of them said.

              “I don’t know man. Maybe our favorite girl can tell us.” And now they were both looking at me challengingly.

              “You guys are still not tired of the same old shit, are you?” I asked with a bored face but deep inside I was startled. I hated seeing them again, I hated the fact that even after graduation they can do this to me and Jinho as well.

              “Same old shit? Look at you. Are you talking about yourself?”

              “It was enough. Get lost.” Jinho said again.

              “It is strange I keep on hearing things but I don’t see anyone.” One said.

              “Poor girl. You should have higher expectations. Are should I say taller?” The other added. And they laughed. I was about to cry. Why is this happening to us, when finally, things seemed to become better.

              “Is he the best you could end up with? Oh god your still so low-class as you used to be… or is he not your boyfriend? Correct me if I misunderstood.”

              And that was when I fucked up. I didn’t say anything. I hesitated. There were no good answers. I knew them so well, no matter what I was about to say, they would turn it against me. But even that should have been better than this.

              “I am sorry guys, but if that’s the problem, I can tell you we are not together. Look at her. Is she someone to mess around someone like me? Definitely no. She is better than that. She has a taller, funnier and richer guy next to her. He has just entered that building at the end of the corner. I guess you both know which building I am referring to.”

              “Is that true?” They asked at the same time.

              It was our only chance to finally escape from this nightmare situation. They could stop us if they wanted any time. We were both too small to resist if they were up to something.

              “Yeah, that’s right. He works there.”

              And as if the curse was broken, they nodded with respect and were no longer blocking our way.

              “If that’s the case, we are sorry about what we said. We knew you are going to make it. And who is that lucky guy? Yanan? Shinwon? Yuto? No waaaay. Oh my god are you dating Jung Wooseok?”

              I had no clue what they were talking about, but I had this gut feeling that my dear ex-classmates became fanboys throughout the years. FANBOYS! It was ridiculous. I couldn’t help but smile out of embarrassment.

              “I am sorry, but you also know that we should respect the artist’s privacy. I cannot say more.”

              “Okay, so its Wooseok. Oh my god. He is a legend. Could you please get his autograph?”

              “I am sorry but we should get going. Jinho has- wait… Jinho?”

              “Oh the small guy? He left couple of minutes ago when it turned out you are dating Wooseok. Is he jealous by the way? He might have some feelings for you. But don’t mind him girl. You are dating the great Jung Wooseok. What else can a person ask for?”

              For a forgiving boyfriend I guess. I left these two idiots there and I started to run after Jinho as fast as I could. Did he say he is leaving I just didn’t notice? Was he upset? Did he leave something at the audition? I called him several times but I couldn’t reach him. After going back to the company and checking the possible places where we were that day I decided to finally go home. I just hoped he would be there.

-|-

              He was at home. And he didn’t seem upset. He told me to take a shower after this tiring day. It was his tiring day though. If only I had the audition today.

              We spent the afternoon calmly he was practicing and I watched a movie. The male protagonist kinda resembled the divorce lawyer’s trainee. Yang Hongseok. And wait a second, he is at the same agency where Jinho had the audition. Nice. I was so happy and excited I really hoped they will call him back with good news.

              Jinho was practicing for hours. He only did this when he was determined and wanted to prove himself before an upcoming audition or when he was hurt. I started to have a bad feeling. There isn’t any upcoming audition. Shit.

              I prepared some nice food and I cautiously knocked on his door to tell him we can have dinner. He didn’t seem angry or anything he just casually nodded and we started to eat.

              “About today… thank you for saving me. These two were always bullying me and if you weren’t next to me today I might have ended up crying and hurt again.”

              “At least YOU are not hurt.” And the way he said ‘you’ was different.

              After minutes of awkward silence he thanked for the food and was on his way to go back practicing.

              “Wait Jinho.”

              “Yeah?” He asked indifferently.

              And I couldn’t ask what I wanted.

              “There is dessert for you in the fridge.”

              “For me? Aww. That’s nice. I thought it is for someone else. Maybe for Jung Wooseok.”

              Bingo. I knew something was fishy…

“I don’t even know who that guy is. And you are well aware of this. Look, I know those two are disgusting and resentful but it was you who stopped them. It was thanks to your made up story that they finally stopped.”

“Oh right. You are so right. What if we just pretend not dating anymore? Maybe it will solve other worries too?!”

“What? Do you want to break up?”

And I saw that he kinda froze at this question. He didn’t mean it.  But if he was mentioning break up he must have been hurt for real.

“No. Of course not. This is why I was kind of avoiding you. I wanted to talk about this when I have calmed down. But fine since it’s out it can’t be helped.”

I was getting nervous. The thought of losing him was more than painful. I didn’t want to live without him. I couldn’t live without him.

“I always thought we are a great team. Even if there are things we should work on we were always open about concerns and we solved the problems together. But I am worried this situation right now is not something we can change even if we work together.”

“We can solve everything together, okay? I want to solve it. Jinho please. I understand and realize that I must have hurt you with my words. And I am so sorry about that. I never wanted to hurt you. I should have told them the truth.”

“Do you know how much happier you looked when I said you are dating this illusionary taller, funnier and richer guy? Do you realize how relieved you were when they showed you respect for dating an idol? Do you get it finally? I love you so incredibly. But this is me. Only this much. I cannot give you more. I am working hard to get there. I might be there someday. But it won’t change facts. I am Jo Jinho, I am 5.6. I don't look like a model. I don’t have money. But I love you. That’s all I can give. But I am not sure it is enough. I am no longer sure I can give you the things you need. I am not sure what I can give you is the same as you want me to give you.”

“What?”

Is this really how I behaved? Is this really how I made him feel?

“I am not saying we should break up, but I am asking you to reconsider what you want from me and from this relationship. I want you to be honest. I promise you even if you say ‘I am sorry but I only date guys above 5.8’ it will hurt and I will be broken, but I will accept it. As long as I know you made the right choice in order to be with someone who can make you happy, I will accept your decision.”

“No Jinho. You totally misunderstood. I don’t want to date anybody else. Who cares about those stupid inches?”

“You. It was only you. Always. Did you ever hear me complaining about it? This might sound cruel but I learned to accept myself and love myself in this way. And it was a hard and long journey. I won’t pretend it is only about you. I don’t want to lose this confidence. I don’t want to become that insecure man I was before. But you make me feel like someone who needs to be protected, someone who should be hidden. I don’t want to feel like this.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.” I said while my tears were falling.

“I know you never did. It was unintentional. But you’ve hurt me. I just want you to realize a lot of things can be improved and changed, but my height is not something I can modify. Please just think about it. If you still want me this way, just let me know. I would be happy to stay together.”

And he left me there. I would want to hug somebody, and I needed his presence but, I was kind of glad he didn’t see my ugly crying face.

He was so damn right. And I could totally understand the way he felt. If you love someone you shouldn’t make them feel like trash. And it was always and only me who had those concerns. The rumors spread by the colleagues and my dad’s stupid words. I am not sure how I really felt. Maybe I was just influenced by them but I was worried I might have cared too much about his height.

Everything was up to me now. He was waiting for my answer. Even after I hurt him so bad, he didn’t want to break up. It was up to me to choose an average life with a divorce lawyer’s trainee type of guy, or choose a different type of life with him. A life with Jo Jinho.

-|-

We’ve slept separately. It was better this way. I was suffering alone but it just made me realize how much I needed his presence, how much I wanted to see his face when I woke up and how badly I wanted to feel his arms wrapped around me.

I prepared a nice breakfast. I wanted to clear things as soon as possible, but food is important too. Kids, don’t forget to eat breakfast!

“Hi! Good morning!”

“Good morning! Wow. So many nice dishes. Is this a compensation?”

“It’s an ‘I am sorry for being a bad girlfriend’.”

“Oh thank god it’s not an ‘I am sorry for breaking up with you’.” He said with a smile. But I couldn’t laugh at it. I know he was hurt. And him trying to make a joke out of it meant that he was hurt more than he showed.

“I am not gonna leave you Jinho.”

“I am sorry I didn’t mean it.”

“Look. I… I… messed up okay? I understand that even if I had good intentions I’ve hurt your feelings. But I think we can solve this too. I wanted to say thank you for finally saying what I should have heard. The thing is that you were right. I was the one obsessed with your height. And the saddest is that not specifically because of you. I thought if I am almost as tall as you I can not be a fragile, small woman. I wanted to be smaller, I wanted to be the one who needs to be protected. And I couldn’t accept myself in this way. I didn’t see me the way I wanted.”

“I wish you would see yourself with my eyes just to understand how beautiful you are.”

“I am sorry to make you feel bad when I was the one who couldn’t love myself. If you could help me to accept myself as you did back then, I think we would be able to stay together. And if you still love me I wouldn’t want anything more than this. I want nothing less and nothing more than you, Jo Jinho.”

-|-

Magic Bra. I was raising my eyebrows. Did she really make a successful business with such a company name? But when I checked on the internet the reviews were praising her insanely.

Lucy_1127 wrote: I was invisible before. But when my longtime best friend saw me in this red bra, he finally realized we were supposed to be together. I love this bra. It is indeed magical. My only regret is that it is more times on the floor than on me. (Moderators please don’t erase my comment *begs*)

Hoetaekie828 wrote: when the owner told me that this lingerie has magical power I was sceptic. I am 27 you know. I don’t believe in fairytales anymore. But when I saw her (my back then best friend now girlfriend)... Wow! She was indeed a beautiful princess from a fairytale. Since than I couldn’t thank the owner lady enough. We are regulars at the shop. I totally recommend it for couples, and for those friends who are shy to admit the truth.

              Jinho didn’t tell me why I got this. He just told me this is a gift from him to me and also a part of our therapy. We didn’t apply for real therapy. But we agreed to rebuild our trust and change things. As a first step he told me to wear these. I was kind of surprised. Jinho wasn’t really a shy type but we were both so stressed recently, having a time dedicated to ourselves was so rare like a leap year.

              When I put on the ‘magic bra’ I checked myself in the mirror. I wasn’t totally satisfied but I looked so different in these. I finally saw someone who is brave and confident. For the first time I thought if I work a bit harder, not only on my body and carrier but on my behavior and inner values, I might become someone who is worth of Jinho’s love. I really hoped so.

              “Okay, so where is my lovely and concerned girlfriend who cannot see herself as a fragile, feminine woman? Because I only see a stunning, confident lady here. I am sorry miss, but even if it is so hard to send you off I will have to ask you to leave because I already have someone closed in my heart.” He said when he suddenly appeared behind my back. Our eyes met in the mirror.

              “Oh is that so? That’s a shame then. Are you sure she wouldn’t allow this one? As long as you are happy I think she wouldn’t mind it.”

              “Do you think so? Am I that kind of lucky guy? Well… let me see.” And he is seductive gaze was wandering all over my body. “No. I cannot do that to her I am sorry.”

              “Why not? Is she so nice?”

              “Yeah. She is a precious someone to me. And I promised something to myself. I wanted to show her how beautiful she is. I need to keep that promise. So even if your affair offer is very tempting I have to say no.”

              “What a pity. I think she doesn’t even know how lucky she is… Is she more beautiful than me? That can’t be true. Mister you must be lying.”

              “No, I am not. I love her and she is beautiful. What if I prove you?”

              “Fine. If you prove me than I’ll be leaving and won’t seduce you. If you don’t prove me you’ll have to have an affair with me.”

              “Okay.”

              “So, how will you prove me?”

              “Just look at yourself in the mirror.”

And even if I was confident pretending to be another lady for fun looking at myself in the mirror while he was watching me from behind was kind of embarrassing.

              “You know my girlfriend is a bit insecure and even if I tell her she won’t trust me when I say she is beautiful. You have some similarities. You both are stubborn and don’t trust my words… bad girls…”

              And I couldn’t help but laugh a bit. He was cute. I was grateful. And I loved him incredibly.

              “So, for example if I would say I love how she puts her hair behind her ears she would be like: but it is nothing special.”

              And as he said it he put my hair behind my ears and put a soft kiss on my neck. And then looked back at me in the mirror. And I started to get the taste of this whole thing. He was so freaking hot. He decided to show me how he loved each and every part of my body. He put soft kisses on my shoulders and wrapped his arms around my waist without taking his eyes off of me. And this excited me. For the first time I realized it was really not about being small or tall, fragile or not. He loved me and I loved him back. And we were perfect for each other just the way we were.

-|-

              “Sorry but could you please go to the hall? Someone passed out. Oh god these fans these days…”

              “Sure, I’ll be there in a sec.”

              It wasn’t the first time in this week. Fans were crazy about him. And it was good to see that he finally received this much of love after working hard for his dream for the past years.

“I am here. How can I help? Where is the patient?”

“He is here.”

“You two?” I asked a bit shocked.

“Oh! Our favorite girl. Please save him!” Member 1 of the bully duo said. I am sorry but after what they’ve done to me throughout these years I don’t bother calling them on their names…

I just gave him first aid and after he woke up I made sure he is fine.

“You’ll be fine now.”

“Oh my goodness. Thank you. You saved him.”

“You saved me. Thank you. I have never thought one day you’ll be saving my life.”

“Trust me, this is not something I’ve expected either. But what are you two doing here?”

“We are fans!”

“I am sorry to let you down but Wooseok is not present today. This is Jinho’s solo concert…” I said a bit offended.

“Silly. We knooow. We came to support him.” They said.

“Oh, if that’s the case… I am glad. I think he would be happy to see your faces. But promise me you won’t faint in front of him okay?”

“Yes doctor!”

“Good.”

“Also… we are sorry… for everything.”

And I just nodded. I was happy that they apologized even if it happened after so many years later. But in a way I was happy that we met them on that day. I guess I needed to meet them to realize being critical about beauty is just so unnecessary. Beauty is so subjective, and is not only about visuals and heights. And when I looked back on Jinho talking happily with his fans signing the albums, I knew that in my eyes he was the most beautiful person, and nothing else mattered.

[strikearose]

It’s all about connections (SasuNaru) (Part 1)

Finally, here’s the very first part of the !YoutubeSasuNaru story - the idea’s quite silly but I had fun writing it so hope you guys enjoy it! (English is not my first language so please don’t be too much of a grammar nazi Summary : Sasuke has had that massive crush on a youtuber for years when Rasengan randomly starts going to his class. You can also read it on ff.net and ao3.  Part 1 (here), Part 2 (clic), Part 3 (clic), Part 4 (clic)

Poc.

The ball of paper missed its trajectory and crashed into the corner of the wall, barely half an inch away from the waste basket that originally intended. The student didn’t mind, though - he was far too busy trying to finish his economics presentation that was due for the next day.

Despite the fact that many of his classmates insisted on seeing him as a relentless hardworking student, Sasuke Uchiha was very much like any other normal twenty-one year old boy : a procrastinator at heart. So it was precisely on the night before the big day that he finally decided to finish it, even though he had had all of his vacation time to do so. Well - it would be a lie to say that it would take a superhuman effort to accomplish that task, but unfortunately the young man had another flaw: he was a perfectionist.

Even if he had to pull an all-nighter or give nothing back at all, Sasuke had always refused to be average -  because before (and in addition of) setting high standards for others, he would always set himself very high standards.

The black-haired man frowned as he read what he had written on the previous line and, impulsively, he ended up tearing up the entire page of his notebook and threw it on the floor.

However, the paper pellet did not make a Poc - as he had, this time, managed to reach the bin, it made a Ting instead : he had just received a notification.

His mind being elsewhere, the student rummaged around on his desk, looking for his phone. It wasn’t a text message, but a Youtube alert. One of his Subscriptions had just uploaded a new video. Sasuke took a quick look at the time (1:03 am) and let a loud sight when he saw how long the video was: fifty-seven minutes.

Of course, it has to be Rasengan.

He was the only one there who could publish a barely edited gaming review at such odd hours. One hour of uncut video was too much, even if it was to discuss the New Zelda. ‘That moron clearly don’t understand how the logistics of youtube work,’ the young man thought while stretching his legs under the table in order to get into a more comfortable position.

Because even though Sasuke might found the Youtuber’s marketing choices quite stupid and questionable - he was still his favorite. The only one he was following so.. assiduously.

And if he was really going to pull an all-nighter in order to finish his presentation on time, he might as well relax a little on the go

**

The coffee machine finally agreed (even though it sure had taken its’ sweet time) to give him his change money, but it still wasn’t not enough to lift Sasuke’s spirit. He really had spent his entire night working on the presentation. Well - he even had to give up his usual fifteen minutes of hot morning shower for just three minutes of shampoo-rinse-toothbrush altogether to make sure that everything was perfect.

But at last - there he was ! His eyelids stung horribly and he could feel the dark circles hollowing out his eyes, but everything was finally ready to make sure he would receive his usual congratulations for the seriousness and thoroughness of his work.

An amused grin escaped his lips when he looked into the face of Kiba Inuzuka, one of his classmates - a gamer and procrastinator emeritus who unfortunately didn’t have enough wits to back it up. With some luck, they would be called in alphabetical order for once and it would save Inuzuka the embarrassment of going Sasuke’s presentation.

Or maybe not.

Sasuke left the cafeteria just as the legendary lack of luck of the dog-loving student seemed to catch up with him:

« FOR FUCK’S SAKE NARUTO DON’T PUT YOUR DR PEPPER ON TOP OF MY COMPUTER ! »

**

« Hey Sasuke, did you also get Ichiraku’s mail about the internship? »

Shikamaru Nara calmly called out the black-haired young man as he sat down.

« Yes, I got it. And my documents have been signed and validated by the office earlier today.

- Cool, mine too, Shikamaru sighed. ‘t'was about time. »

He nodded his head knowingly: all the steps of searching, finding and getting the official documents concerning the internship signed were an unspeakable mess. Luckily, though, his partner this time was not a nutcase of Zaku Abumi’s caliber.

The Nara was placidly calm (Sasuke wouldn’t dream of seeing him threatening the Dean of blowing up the uni if he were to fail the exams) and quite intelligent: in short, he was one of his peers. And their little discussions were not too unpleasant.

« Well, we’ll talk later about carpooling?

- Yeah. And also dividing the task.

- Yeah, no problems, Shikamaru sighed as he turned away - tired in advance of the amount of work ahead. Ah, good luck with your presentation by the way. »

Pfft.

He didn’t even bother to answer.

Wishing him luck ? Sasuke gladly left ‘good luck’ to losers such as Inuzuka or Sarutobi who were very likely to be sending prayers at that very moment to every heavenly spirit existing, Jashin included, to have the course delayed.

Good luck ?

Sasuke definitely didn’t need it.

He was brilliant, meticulous and confident: talking in front of sixty or more people didn’t bother him at all - unlike the younger Hyuuga who getting more and more on the verge of fainting as she practiced her speech. More than that, it was even something he enjoyed. Knowing every aspect of a subject - mastering it ; defending it tooth and nail, tearing apart every remark made by his opponents until they surrender..

Some malicious people would say that Sasuke liked to boast on stage, that he was too arrogant. That he was far too pleased to thwart the traps set by his teachers, to answer the questions of his classmates with a smirk. A smirk just visible enough to make them understand how foolish he thought their interventions were. Or worse, that he had precisely expected for a moron to make that remark, thus allowing him to assert his assistance with a dutifully prepared response.

Saying that Sasuke Uchiha sometimes behaved like a complete asshole would be quite slanderous - indeed.

Because, no he did not.

He was brilliant, meticulous, confident… and humble on top of that.

« Hurry up, Kiba, I think it’s already started!

- You should have eat your lunch quicker ! »

The two latecomers were forced to take the front row seats of the auditorium while Sasuke finished to prepare. The slide show was on, the cable was connected - he was simply waiting for Mr. Hatake’s approval to start.

**

« And to finish with and anticipate some questions you may have, I’d like to add that while the data I used regarding market flows may be from two thousand and four, other studies that I have provided in the appendix tend to show that all exchanges concerning telephony have been profitable thanks to the takeover of the company by its competitor three years ago. »

Click.

He couldn’t have done better.

The teacher scribbled an umpteenth inscription on his rating form with a discreet approving wink and Uchiha smiled smugly.

Perfect - everything had gone on smoothly.

His onyx eyes wandered around the room: not surprisingly, half the auditorium hadn’t listen a word to what he had said, too focused on themselves (and the realization of their own projects).

Pfft.

The other half, however, completed his little moment of glory: some of them shook the head in bitterness, disappointed in what they had done in comparison, others gave him an admiring look. In the distance, Shikamaru nodded his head slowly while the Egyptian fury sited beside him, more belligerent, pretended to stifle a yawn.

But Sasuke quickly looked away, his mouth pinched, as he saw the thumb up that Lee Rock had kindly addressed to his attention. Lee was overall quite a nice fellow - Sasuke himself had to recognize it, - but no.

Just no.

« Well, if no one has any question, because I don’t have one either, let’s move on to the next presentation, Kakashi Hatake thought for a moment as he watched over the assembly. Inuzuka, you, in the front row? Well, that’s great, now’s your turn. »

Sasuke, quite disdainfully elated, was about to come down from the stage when a voice stopped him dead in his tracks:

« Oops, you’re in deep shit, Kiba! »

That particular tone was familiar to him.

Strangely familiar.

« Heyyyyy everybody! I know, I know, sorry! I promised to upload more often… But sometimes I just completely forget to turn the cam on. Or to remove the lens cover ahah! Anyway, today…- »

…

Come to think of it, Sasuke knows that he should have, at least, tried to make it look like it wasn’t that big of a deal. He should have try to tighten his jaw, clench his teeth or even hold his breath until he could return to his seat but of course - he didn’t.

That damn brain of his really had to go on mental-break down as he looked over to the lips from which those sweet, sweet words had just escaped.

He literally froze on the spot.

HOLY FREAKING FUCKING FUCK.

Why the hell did Rasengan have to show up in his class on the very-day he looked like utter shit?!

**

Sasuke let himself fell on a chair of the uni library. The research room, fortunately, was still quite empty - this haven of peace was the only place where, he was ready to stake his life on it, this stupid Inuzuka had not and would never set foot in.

Yes - Sasuke Uchiha had simply run away : with clenched fists, he had spent the forty-two minutes separating him from the end of the class to scrutinize meticulously the auditorium clock’s second hand. He had tried everything: scrolling down his twitter feed, pretending to be interested in what was happening downstairs, humming softly a bit of that stupid Latin-sounding song that his brother Itachi kept playing in the car, but nothing helped. That same frightening moment was played again and again in his mind:

Meeting certain cerulean eyes had literally made him go speechless. If he had for a long time now suspected the blond guy of drowning his instagram pictures with saturated filters, he was now forced to admit that this guy had the bluest eyes he had ever seen.

And by blue, Sasuke wasn’t talking about that pale, bland cyan that Ino Yamanaka, a high school ‘friend’ he often saw in the cafeteria, boasted about - no, Rasengan’s pupils were of a deep, bright, intense blue. It wasn’t a grey that stretched to be too light or green; his eyes were neither grayish nor turquoise: they were blue. Irrevocably blue.

Wonderfully blue.

The more he thought about it, the less Uchiha was willing to accept it: there was no way a guy who spent at least twelve hours a day on screens could have such marvelous eyes. He probably wore contact lenses, yeah, there was no other explanation.

All Sasuke could remember was meeting that seing that blue and then - nothing. His foot had stayed up in the air, his breathing hastened and he had stood there like an idiot - staring at the video maker who hadn’t pay the slightest attention to him, his mouth wide open.

How long had he been frozen there, like a fucking fangirl oozing hormones and sebum?

…

Thank’s God - an unfortunate accident had come to his rescue : Kiba Inuzuka and his legendary clumsiness who, probably not expecting Sasuke to suddenly freeze on the spot, had stumbled over the stairs.

PAF.

He had cracked his forehead open and the fit of hilarity (well - they didn’t need much at eight o'clock in the morning) in the auditorium had instantly brought Sasuke out of his enamored trance. He had quickly taken his attention away from the blond young man hurried back to his place, his heart beating fast.

Shit - what the hell was Rasengan doing in his college?

And why did he have do pull an all-nighter on the day before?

Sasuke looked around him and hesitated for a moment before putting his phone in selfie mode in order to inspect the extent of the damages.

Ouch.

He had rarely looked so bad. His eyes were red because of the entire night spent on a computer screen, his skin was tugging at him and - what the hell was that old scale on the edge of his eyelid ? But despair truly overcame him as he looked at the state of his hair - thank God it was still pretty clean, but there was absolutely no volume left. Nasty, long (too long) strands of hair were stuck to his temples and fell back a little on his forehead.

Shit - it was as if he was unpleasantly reviving his teenage years when - even though he still adamantly claimed to that day he had never turned emo, he had tried numerous dubious kind of hairstyles.

The Uchiha turned pale when it really came down to him : this was indeed the very first impression he ever had make on Rasengan.

**

When Sasuke set foot on campus the next day, curious glances were exchanged. While his complexion was as fresh and glowing as ever (he had gulped down five liters of water the night before), his hair was…-

Well - he rather gave the impression that he had swallowed five litres of gel. That observation made the usually impassive Shikamaru raised an eyebrow - for a moment he thought that he too had returned to his high school years. The Nara genius finally shrugged it off, plunged back into his textbook - well everyone had bad hair day every now and then.

**

Fourth day of the week - Sasuke grumbled as he put his computer back on his bag.

Of course, Rasengan had to disappear completely off the face of the earth as soon as he had decided to rock his best outfits to go to class.

It was as if Rasengan’s divine appearance had to be provoked by Sasuke losing some of his splendor.

…

The next day, Sasuke had the impudence of wearing a T-shirt… with a hole on it (an old accident involving a hook and his brother-in-law, a fisherman), but still - nothing happened.

There was not the slightest sign of the handsome blond with eyes too blue to be true. In a bad mood, Uchiha decided after lunch to put the Ralph Lauren sweater, which he’d slipped into his bag in the morning just in case, in top of his crappy shirt.

The following Monday came quickly but - no, Sasuke wasn’t expecting anything.

His decision to resume his daily abdominal sessions hadn’t been motivated by any hope of meeting a certain blond again.

He was doing it for himself - and for himself alone.

Although it was true that he didn’t even need it.

The coffee machine forgot inadvertently to give him a stirrer - Sasuke sighed. Great, the day was starting out just fine : how the hell was he supposed to retrieve the sugar that had fallen to the bottom of the cup and drink his coffee now?

« Ahah, I can’t believe it, I didn’t even finish my presentation and Hatake gave me the passmark ! »

Sasuke’s ears tensed imperceptibly as he recognized the voice of the injured-Inuzuka who had just entered the cafeteria.

« He felt sorry you had a concussion Kiba, Shikamaru was there too.

- Whatever, man ! I’m definitely going to pass that semester ! We got to go celebrate. »

Celebrate?

Like in a bar or club where Rasengan might also go to ?

Sasuke suddenly found his cup too heavy to carry around and chose to sit down at the table next to the one the two friends had chosen, any worry of lost-stirrer long forgotten.

« Mhhh. Shikamaru sighed and rummaged through his wallet, seeking enough change to buy himself a hot drink. The delicious scent of Sasuke’s coffee was tempting him. You know what I think about your improvised parties.

- Pfff, anyway, you hardly go out anymore now than you got hitched.

- It's not like that, Shikamaru sighed again. Tem and I simply go to different places. »

Sasuke rolled his eyes out, bored. He wasn’t there to hear about other people’s marital relationships: why didn’t they discuss Rasengan’s appearance AND disappearance instead?

The black-haired man had spend the weekend trying to figure something out, but nothing helped. Not a new video on Youtube (well, there was nothing that strange about that, Rasengan’s upload schedule had always been rather dubious), not a single clue on twitter or insta.

Nothing.

« …- never thought you’d actually manage to hook up with her. By the way…-, Kiba’s sentence was left hanging in the air. Oh, here he is. It’s about time! »

Sasuke’s pulse suddenly accelerated. Damn it.

He hadn’t expected Rasengan to pop up out of the blue, though.

Wasn’t his presence so close to his group of friends too suspicious?

Was he going to get busted that easily ?

He needed a pretext - quickly.

« Hey Shino. You’re here just in time, let’s go! »

Eyes glued to the poster for dark-metal band, Uchiha struggled to conceal his disappointment. 

Shino Aburame - of course.

Always where he wasn’t expected.

Jaw clenched, Sasuke pretended to take a closer look at the tour dates on the wall while the three companions got up to go to class. The disappointed student was about to do the same when a voice called out to him:

« I didn’t know you liked this kind of music, Sasuke.

- Uh… yeah.

- We’re performing next month at the bar around the corner, Shino let out a rare smile as he reached into his pocket to hand him something. Here, I’ve got plenty more.

- … Thanks ? »

Uchiha arched an eyebrow as he received a Radioactive Worms sticker.

…

Well.

It took all sorts to make a world.

**

Wednesday, nine o'clock - Sasuke sighed as he realized that his computer was already out of battery. He pulled the charger out of its’ case before giving a nasty glance to a student who was cackling a little too loudly a few rows away.

Inuzuka.

Again.

He was getting on his nerves more and more.

For how long has he been getting along like pigs in a blanket with Rasengan? And was he, as Sasuke strongly suspected, responsible of his mysterious disappearance?

It was all so damn confusing.

« Um, yeah? »

The microphone sizzled and Sasuke turned his attention back ont he lecturer who he had almost forgotten.

When he saw who standing next to him, he almost fainted.

Rasengan.

[in-mutual-weirdness]

Elsewhere University: Wayward

AN: First attempt at writing a thing in a long while. I have a weakness for fae stories and urban magic-y kind of scenarios, and @charminglyantiquated‘s universe here caught me hook, line, and sinker. Still, didn’t think I’d write anything for it, until the library scene popped into my head while I was procrastinating. Hope you enjoy what it’s turned into.

----------

When you were younger, your parents had impressed upon you the importance of going into the sciences.

“Be practical,” they said. “We have three sets of tuition to pay for. You can't waste time on art or philosophy. Love is all fine and noble, sure, but debt is not.”

Your original reaction had been a slowly growing resentment. Now, you're glad for it. You wouldn't touch humanities with a 10 foot pole now.

Oh sure, you're no automaton. You can appreciate people with an eye for theory, ink-stained fingers, or the aptitude for composition. A good portion of your friend group chose to study and create beautiful things. You love hearing about what they do, seeing the way their eyes light up and their words run away from them in sheer enthusiasm. But interspersed between their conversations about theater or lit class readings, you heard...other things. “Weird and inexplicable” didn't even begin to cover it. You finally put the pieces together in the spring of freshman year, after Sydney disappeared and everybody gathered to drink in memory and mourning.

It spooked the hell out of you. No two ways about it. Elsewhere University had a reputation for weirdness, for sure. You'd be lying if you said that hadn't swayed you in favor of attending in the first place. But this went past weird. “Weird” wasn't going to get you killed or kidnapped. The only thing keeping you from just transferring straight away was the impossibility of trying to explain it to your parents. And your grades weren't exactly gonna convince any other admissions office to let you in. Nowhere comparable, anyway.

So you coped in the ways you knew how. Reading all the guides you could get your hands on. Finding source folklore. Your choice of major had already stacked the cards in your favor. And while you still hung out with your arty friends, by sophomore year you'd found another group. A group more shielded from the weirdness. Where things could be normal and nobody thought to ask doppelganger questions or carry old screws in all their pockets. Except that one engineer lady, but far as you could tell, that was just a personal quirk.

And then school brought the hammer down on you.

You knew that college was gonna get tougher. But knowing didn't mean you were prepared. Those grades that had kept you from transferring came back to bite you. That creeping unease from Sydney hadn't gone away, and it was showing up in your work habits and shattered focus. You'd talked to the student health services people about it, and gotten nowhere. Scholarship money was on the line. The second round of exams was coming. And linear algebra was the first one.

You’d done your best to stay away from Elsewhere’s weirdness. But that didn’t mean you weren’t aware. You remembered what your humanities friends had told you. There were things you could do, loopholes you could exploit. Options, options, always options. If you were brave enough to take them.

And so here you are, venturing into the lower floors of the library.

You didn’t know many specifics going in, but you did know where to look. The bio majors Facebook page didn’t explicitly mention their library base camps, but the “Spelunkers Club” did, and had drafted a map to boot. The printout is sitting in your backpack, right now, sandwiched between notebooks. You’d wondered about their ability to diagram a non-Real, inconsistent space, but the solution made you laugh in shocked delight once you saw. While the shape of the shelves would change every six days or so, even a fae-touched library was militant about the Dewey decimal system. You spot the Fashion books (746.92) and make a right, nodding at a dude you recognize from your Psych class. He gives a weak thumbs up in response. Not somebody you'd expect to come here, but the psych lecture is the morning after the exam. If any of you vanish, it'll get reported quickly.

You move off a ways, finding a row of empty carrels against the wall. All identical, save one, whose lone desk light throws shadows around the walls. The rest of the row has their lights off, but you can hear the ambient shuffle of papers anyway. Best avoid those chairs, then. You pull out your ramen packs, selecting the saltiest variety (verified with a taste test, once. And never again.) The remaining 2/3 of the packets you scatter about the table, and stash back into your pockets. Should work.

You crack open your textbook and a bag of chips, and get started.

Time passes. The sound of your pages joins the general rustling. The clatter of laptop keys cuts through intermittently. You pull out your phone to google a definition and glance at the clock--apparently it thinks you’re in Dubai. Well, at least there’s proof that the time dilation here is actually a thing. Or just that it screws with your electronics. You make decent progress through some of the practice problems, but stall whenever you hit the theorems. That's algebra for you. A lot of numbers and graphs and definitions that use letters like they're words you should understand. You don't. Which is why you're even in this part of the library right now.

It takes you a while before you realize that no letters make sense anymore. You're still thinking in English- at least, you're pretty sure it's still English. But now even the chapter headings in your textbook look merely like shapes. It might just be delirium. That's the reasonable conclusion. You’d downed your second can of Red Bull just trying to keep your eyes functioning. But...

On impulse, you try to write your uni name. (Not your real name, you're not stupid. Just panicky.) Descartes. Cogito ergo sum, and all that. It comes out successfully, but it's entirely due to memory. Making the individual letters takes as much effort as if you were writing them backward, every curve meticulously plotted and traced.

Your circle is undisturbed, thankfully. But the shuffle of pages has stopped. Wind howls from beyond the walls, and the shelves creak like old floorboards. For a moment you wonder about the psych kid. It's a moment too long. You see something move out of the corner of your eye, when you look back toward where he was.

Don't move. Nothing’s there.

Except the Red Bulls are doing a number on your system, and even though you were never the wordy sort you'd still like your language back, thanks, and even if you wanted to leave your suddenly too-small circle and brave your way back to the campus proper, that exam would still be there.

The memory of your GPA curdles your fear into anger. “I thought we were the kind of people you'd leave alone,” you snap, turning to yell over your shoulder. Your voice climbs an octave as you start to rant in earnest. “What's the deal? I'm a STEM major. Doing math. Algebra. You don't even like algebra.”

“Mayhaps,” comes a voice from behind the shelves. “Numbers and Logic are mortal things, it’s true. But you are not a number. You just work with them.”

“And other things,” you reply. You strain your eyes into the dark, frozen in your half turn, but the shelves reveal nothing. Whatever’s out there doesn’t sound like it wants to approach. Probably. Your brain is racing, just barely outpacing your heart. “What do you--is there something you desire from me?”

“Presumptuous.” There’s a cicada-like buzz behind the voice. It makes you picture some kind of massive chitin-plated thing waiting just out of view.

“I meant no presuming. Uh.” Your tongue ties itself in knots to avoid the word “sorry.” It’s surprisingly hard to come up with less dangerous words. “Tell me where I went wrong and I shall try to avoid repeat offense?”

The hum continues. It's starting to sound like laughter. Your spine shivers like a loosened spring. “I want nothing of yours, pupa. What use could I have for it?”

You're pretty sure that question is rhetorical, and if it wasn't, any answer you could give would only endanger yourself. “Then if that’s so, we may move on with our lives. I’m sure you have your own stuff to- to attend to.” You try to muster up enough courage to turn back to your desk.

“I don’t understand. My current business is talking to you.” The thing- the Visitor’s legs skitter about around the shelves, its voice circling around. It better not be getting closer. “You’re proving a rather difficult conversation partner. Most im-po-lite.”

“I did not come here expecting conversation,” you say, uneasily. God, you want out. You shouldn’t have said anything to begin with. You never know who’s listening. “I came here to study, nothing more. That’s where my lack of grace comes from, uh, good fellow.”

“Odd, that you should stroll right into somebody’s front parlor and not be prepared for conversation.”

That can’t be right. That can’t be. The map- You turn the chair fully around and reach over to your backpack, before pulling back at the last minute. Can you even show that to a fae? Is that allowed? You wrack your brain for details, and keep coming up blank. Meanwhile, your Visitor- or Host, perhaps, as the case may be now- waits patiently beyond. “I was told that this was neutral ground where I could complete my work undisturbed,” you say, finally. Your hands rest on your lap now, fingers aching from where you gripped the swivel chair armrests. “I was told that this was public ground.”

“Misinformed trespass is still trespass, hatchling.” Their tone of voice doesn't change, but something in the cadence of it makes your hand stray toward your ramen packs. “You've wandered across my threshold and barred the door. Surely even you know what that means.”

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You raise your hands in a placating gesture. “I understand. I will-” Die? Get Taken? Tell the Spelunkers that their map is a piece of shit and they need better cartographers? “I will leave and remove the salt circle. I will find where the actual neutral zones are and leave your domain alone and not trespass on it again. And...”

And? Your brain insists that something is missing, but by now all you want to do is flee and never come back. “And yeah. Does that sound reasonable to you?”

There's a different sort of clicking now. It sounds like pincers. You swallow back the lump of shuddering fear and wait for their answer. The entire section of the library is quiet except for that awful sound. “Usually there are reparations for an offense such as this. But...” Oh God oh god what does it want now. “I see that you've already lost something. That would normally go to the offended party. But I have no use for your words. Go then, pupa.”

It’s already started to skitter away when you’ve finished processing what it said. “Wait!” You even reach out toward the shelves, almost tripping out your chair onto the salt circle. Your legs are practically wobbly enough to wriggle out of your own jeans. “My- the words! English. Do you have my words?”

“They say external ears are better for hearing. I think they're mistaken.” You don't have time for its coy amusement, but it has even less time for overt demands and careless students. You grit your teeth and wait. “I have no need of your words. But I know how to get them back. I could retrieve them for you, even. But, that would be a favor.” You catch a glimpse of something between a gap in the shelves and you look hurriedly away. There's only leather spines and library labels. There's nothing else worth looking at over there. “And I don't give those out readily, even to those who haven't offended me. That is my offer. You know what to do, pupa.”

Trade nothing you cannot afford to lose. But you've already lost- You screw your eyes shut and count to ten, in half-remembered high school Italian. Uno, due, tre... You get to “cinque” before you switch into Spanish by accident. Right. A peace offering. You look at your desk, at your backpack, glance down at your pockets.

Only one option stands out to you.

You pick up the map and throw it out at the room with a flick of the wrist. “Here,” you say, as it drifts down just outside of the yellow-y line of flavor powder. “A map. Designed by the best cartographers of my age.” In a manner of speaking. “Knowledge for knowledge. Use it to secure the borders of your domain.” You reach for your notebook, and while you can't read what it says, you recognize the formatting of the list. “Here is a copy, in my own writing. It is as a contract. Take it as confidence that I will learn and know the borders here, and not cross them, ever.”

There's a rush of movement and suddenly something with more legs than you can really perceive lunges out from behind the shelves. You can't help the scream of terror. (Nor the stream of pee either. Caffeine, what a diuretic.) The sheer speed of it blows your hair back, as if you were standing on a subway platform by an oncoming train. When it’s passed back into the shadows, you look down at your feet. The circle hasn’t moved at all.

“Do not let anybody say I am not fair,” it says. “I always give back equal to what is given in turn. You can have your letters back. I grant you 24 hours of grace period inside this building. That should be more than enough to settle whatever affairs you need to in here. Good morrow, pupa.” It slinks back into the library, the click of its legs blurring together like the sound of pouring sand. Once more, the only sound is from the phantom students on either side of you.

You collapse back into your chair, barely able to move. Thankfully, whatever that fae did seems to have worked. You can read your notes, and even the textbook again. The adrenaline rush of it all has thrown everything into sharp relief. You write with abandon, blasting through proofs and problems alike with new vigor. When you finally leave and walk back out into the late evening sun, you stumble back to bed and nearly sleep through your alarm. But the exam, after that ordeal, feels like a doctor’s visit. Longer than you wanted and a bit uncomfortable, sure. But nothing worse than that.

Psych dude doesn’t show up the next lecture, but you do see him during the break. Probably just came in late. You do that too, you know the feeling.

It isn’t until that weekend, when the exam comes back with a grade better than you could reasonably expect, that you get antsy.

When a about a row’s worth of people don’t show up to your systems biology midterm the week after, you upgrade to worry.

You really wish you could say that you contacted the Spelunkers Club before their page got shut down.  (Part 2?)