#anyway it would take them just under 6 minutes apparently (hope the math was right lol )

[avsiloeb]

Not me watching Star Trek TNG and calculating the amount of time they're gonna take to get somewhere based on the distance and warp factor mentioned

[marshmallow-phd]

Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

**

You woke up in a sweat. Little beads dotted your upper lip and temples. The source of the heat was all around you, encompassing the space you occupied. It held you so close that you wondered in your hazy awakeness if you would ever feel the cold again. Not that you wouldn’t mind. Summer was always your favorite time of year. But right now, you could use a break from the personal space heater. 

Eyes breaking open, you sucked in air at how close Minseok was. His entire outline was a blur, only his nose and mouth in sharp focus. The previous night’s events came back to you. Though still slightly hazy, you remembered falling asleep during the movie, Minseok bringing you up here, and then asking him to stay. It was quite possibly the most peaceful rest you’d had in your life. 

Minseok was still asleep. His mouth was open just a bit and the slightest bit of tension in his eyebrows. Your arms were pinned between your chest and his. If you uncurled your fingers you could touch his slack jaw. Minseok’s arm was tight around your waist. He sighed happily before snuggling in closer, moving his face so it now rested in the crook of your neck. Okay, as satisfied as he was, this was now getting a bit uncomfortable for you. 

“Minseok?” He didn’t move. “Minseok.” You kept squirming until he finally woke up. 

At first he merely blinked away the sleep. When his eyes focused on you, they grew wide in horror. He scrambled back to give you room. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He pushed himself up into a sitting position. 

“It’s okay,” you said. The smile was nearly impossible to hold back. As you also sat up, your hand slipped under the pillow, hitting something hard. You frowned. It felt like a book. Did he like to read before he fell asleep? You pulled the book out. No. 

It was your notebook of ideas. 

Panic set in his eyes. “I swear I was going to give it back.” 

“Where did you find it?”

“I’m the wolf you’ve been meeting in the clearing, remember? I found it the first day. I meant to give it back to you, but it would have been hard to explain, given the circumstances.”

You took a deep breath. The notebook was a reminder of all the information that had been dumped on you in the last twenty-four hours. It had been so easy to ignore the processing time your brain needed. Being in Minseok’s presence made it easy to forget a lot of things. “I, uh, I think I should go home.”

Disappointment was an understatement for Minseok’s expression. “Yeah. Right. I’ll take you back home.”

“Actually, I just need to get to my car. I parked it on one of the back roads.”

“Okay.”

He waited patiently for you to get out of the bed and put your shoes back on. He didn’t question why you’d parked out there. Simple answer was that he had made the connection to your little hike. You excused yourself to go to a bathroom, in which he pointed you towards. You didn’t have anything to brush your teeth or hair, so you settled on a splash of water to the face. Your go-to bathroom habit at this point. When you returned to the bedroom, Minseok was in fresh clothes. Keys in hand, he stepped passed you without a word. You followed him down to the first floor. Using your notebook as a shield against your chest, you tried to be as invisible to any of the others you ran into as you exited the house. Out in the garage, you got into the car that Minseok indicated. 

The ride was quiet, save for the few times you gave Minseok directions to where you’d parked your car. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head against the glass. You were still tired and could feel a headache starting to emerge.

“Uh, (y/n)?”

“Hm? What is it?” You opened your eyes and nearly shot out of the car. 

Several police cars and at least twenty civilians were all huddled around the area where your car sat. Erik was amongst them, talking to one of the officers. As soon as Minseok’s vehicle was pulled over to the side and the engine turned off, you bolted. 

“Erik!”

He looked so relieved when he saw you. The officer looked shocked, then his face rested into a neutral expression. “You must be (y/n).”

You nodded. “Yes, I am. What’s going on?”

Minseok came up just then. Erik did a double take then frowned. His eyes drifted down to your hand. You were still holding on to the notebook that Erik would recognize in a heartbeat. He motioned to Minseok with his head as he asked you, “The guy from the pictures?” 

Minseok looked surprised at the comment. And even a little embarrassed. But he did the gentleman thing and held out his hand. “I’m Minseok.”

Erik ignored the hand, barely glancing at it. “We were all worried about you. Do you realize what we thought when your phone was off and the cops found your car out here?” 

You flinched back. “I’m sorry, I was… taking pictures. I lost track of time.” 

“You lost track of time?” Erik scoffed. “That’s all you have to say?” 

“Hey, back off,” Minseok growled, taking a step so he was now partially between you and Erik. “She’s a grown adult. She doesn’t have to check in with you every three hours. She can make her own decisions.” 

Erik looked him up and down. “That much is apparent.” 

Shaking your head, you turned to the third man in the group. “I’m sorry, officer. This was all a misunderstanding.” 

“It’s alright. Just be careful next time, okay? Maybe let someone know where you are.” He looked at Erik. “We’ll call off the search party and let everyone go home.”

“Thank you,” Erik said. His tone was low and short.  The officer left to scatter the rest of the people. Erik barely looked at you. “I’m glad you’re safe. Turn your phone back on.” With that, he stalked off towards his car.

Minseok scratched the back of his head as he shifted from foot to foot. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” 

“It’s fine. Really, it's my own fault.” You dug your keys out of your pocket. “I should get home.”

“I understand. Can we talk? Later?” He sounded so hopeful, so sure. But you still needed time to think. Your brain felt scrambled, pulled and stretched like taffy on a hook. 

“Yeah,” you finally answered. “Later.”

He must have been hoping for a more enthusiastic response. You didn’t have the energy for that right now. “Okay. Um, okay.” That was his goodbye as he turned and headed back to his car. Did he have to look so much like a wounded puppy? You watched his car disappear down the road, a cloud of tan dust following closely behind.

You waited for everyone else to clear out before getting into your own car. For a minute or two, you sat there. It seemed so bizarre, surreal, the situation you found yourself in. And it wasn’t even the pack of humans-to-wolves that had you so disoriented. It was the fact that Erik had called the police, that a search party had been formed to find you after one night away. It was obvious that he still cared, break or not. Turning on your phone, you groaned as the notifications stacked up. Missed calls, texts in all caps, other social media contacts. You tossed the device into the passenger’s seat and drove home. 

Willa was waiting for you at the dorms. As soon as you walked through the door, she pounced. 

“Oh, thank god you’re okay!” When she let you go, she punched you in the shoulder. 

“Ow!” You rubbed the sore spot. “Was that really necessary?”

Willa pouted. “You could have least told me that you were heading out. Might have saved us this fiasco.”

“You were asleep.” And you would have been punched anyway. Willa insisted that she had no control over her limbs in that groggy state, but you didn’t entirely believe that. “I’m fine. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Minseok’s right, I'm an adult. I don’t need babysitters.”

“Who’s Minseok?”

Oh… crap. “Um, he’s just a friend. A tutor, really.”

Willa took that pathetic explanation. Although, truthfully, that was how it all started. “Oh, did you finally decide to get help so you can finally pass math class?”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Jerk.” 

“What?” Willa said innocently. “I want to see you graduate. You’ve been talking about getting your masters and I want to see you do that. Kind of need to pass your classes to get there.”

Stalking past her, you fell down on your bed, face towards the ceiling. 

“Hey, you okay?” Willa asked. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied. “Just tired.”

“I bet, if you stayed out all night.” Willa sat down on her bed across from you. “Where were you, anyway?”

You shrugged. “Just… around. Clearing my head.”

“You were safe, at least?”

“Perfectly.”

“Good.”

**

Nearly a week went by. You went to class as normal. You were nearly finished with your extra credit project. Minseok had given you the perfect jumping off point and diving into the project had given you the ultimate excuse to not think about anything else. Between that and your other classes, you’d hardly had any interaction with the people close to you. Besides Willa, you’d almost completely isolated yourself. The reasoning you had given yourself was to think things through, to decide if you would turn back around and go down the other road or keep heading forward. The only problem was, you kept avoiding it. 

You didn’t think about Erik or Minseok. Or, you tried not to. If little thoughts of them started to creep up, you would find something to distract yourself with. A jog, a scary movie (avoiding anything supernatural), or homework. You would immerse yourself until the thoughts went away. Avoidance might not have been a healthy coping mechanism, but it was the one you were going with. 

You were currently participating in that mechanism as you lied on your bed, watching videos on the internet. It was simply you and your short laughs as you switched from clip to clip. The internet was a black hole. Once you got too close, you were sucked into a place where time no longer moved at a normal pace. 

Willa walked in and dropped her bag on the floor. You barely acknowledged her long, drawn out sighs that were clearly made for attention. She sighed again. Louder, this time. When that still didn’t work, she threw her pillow at you.  

You turned off the phone and finally looked at your best friend. “Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you.”

“It could have been avoided if you’d looked up from your phone the first time.”

Sitting up, you turned to her. “Okay. What can I do for you?”

She pursed her lips. “I’m hungry.” Like it had been waiting for an invitation, your own stomach growled. Willa smiled. “Sounds like you are, too!”

You laughed. “Sure, okay. Let’s go get something to eat.” 

Willa hopped off the bed and switched her things from her backpack to a purse. You pulled on a pair of shoes and shoved your feet in. As the two of you headed out and towards Willa’s car, she came up with an additional idea. 

“Why don’t you ask Erik to join us?” 

You cringed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

She sent you a look. “Why not?”

That was right. You hadn’t completely updated her on the recent events of your life. “Because… we’re on a break.” 

She unlocked her car and opened the driver’s side door, but didn’t get in. Leaning against the open space, she said, “Like… a real break or a Ross and Rachel kind of break?” 

You shrugged. “I’m not sure, to be honest.” 

Willa was quiet for a second. She was looking away from you, eyebrows scrunched in thought. “Was he the one who suggested it?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Why do you ask?” 

“I-” She clicked her tongue several times. “Look, I didn’t want to say anything because it wasn’t my place and I didn’t know what the situation was anyway. This is college, we all have to work with others and-” 

“Willa, spit it out.” Your heart was picking up speed in anticipation of what secret she was about to reveal.

“I’ve seen Erik talking to some girl in the theatre department. A lot.” She threw her hands up. “Innocently, by the way. It didn’t look suspicious at all, besides the frequency. And the fact that it was just the two of them. Did I just make things worse?” 

You found the corners of your lips turning up. “No, actually, I feel a lot better.” 

“Really?” Willa looked taken aback. “Are you saying that… you might not be in love with Erik anymore?”

“I think we’ve grown apart,” you said. 

“Maybe… because of someone else?” Willa looked at you with a cheeky smile. 

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s take this one step at a time, okay? Get in. I’m hungry.”

Willa laughed softly to herself, but got behind the wheel. The two of you had dinner at the small malt shop that had been a staple in the city for decades. You munched happily on the fries and sipped on your chocolate shake with no worries whatsoever. Willa saw your sudden change in mood, but didn’t say anything, keeping the conversation on a lighter note. 

Apparently, talking to someone about what was going on was, indeed, a good idea. It was natural for two people to grow apart. And you had been destined for someone else all along. 

The next day, you went about your routine as normal. After your last class, you headed towards the theatre. It was hell week, as the thespians say. It meant every spare moment was spent in the theatre to get ready for opening night. Erik would be there to make sure any last touches on the set were taken care of. As you neared the building, a familiar spectacled man exited the front doors with a small group of people.  

“Eric, wait.” 

He stopped and waited for you to meet him. He had a tight grip on the strap of his messenger bag. The group stopped and waited, but he shooed them on. 

“What is it, (y/n)?”

You folded your arms over your chest. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for this.” He looked down at the cement sidewalk, kicking an invisible object. “I guess the break will be permanent, then, huh?” 

You moved your own gaze off to the side. “I… um.” 

Then it hit you. Why did you have to be so scared about this? It wasn’t a permanent ending. And you were allowed to make your own choices. You shouldn’t have to beat around the bush and spare his feelings. Wouldn’t it be better just to be honest? 

“You know what? Yes, it will be,” you said assertively. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but that’s life. People change, others come along. And from what I hear, you’re moving on, too.”

Erik’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I know,” you said. “And neither have I. But feelings change. It's okay to follow them.” A mindset you were only now learning for yourself. 

Erik adjusted the bag’s strap to sit more comfortably on his shoulder. “Maybe it’s good that it ended this way. Maybe... we could still be friends?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Arm’s length friends, anyway. 

Erik looked over his shoulder at the group that was now huddled around a car. “I’ve got to go. But… thank you. For talking to me about this. I feel a lot better. I hope you do, too.”

You blinked. “Yeah, of course.”

Erik gave you one last wave before going to join the others. The sun was starting to go down, but you didn’t want to go back to the dorms just yet. You decided to head downtown, to walk around and figure out what exactly you would say to Minseok. You knew it had to be in person. Simply calling him wouldn’t be enough. You needed to see him. 

Hey, so Erik and I officially broke up. And I like you. Heck, I might even be falling in love with you. I want to be your mate. Now what?

Yeah, you could be so articulate sometimes. 

Night had fallen by now. The brightest stars in the sky were shining, breaking through the city lights that drowned out the others. A few people milled about. It was that lull time of night when the dinner rush was dying out and people were getting ready for their late night escapades. 

“(y/n)!”

You nearly laughed out loud before turning around. It was like Fate was pulling the strings, putting you on the path that would lead you right back to him. And you couldn’t say that you were upset about it. In fact, it might be the push you needed. 

“Hi, Minseok,” you said in a quiet voice as he approached. He was alone. Thank goodness. You didn’t really want to have an audience for this.

“How have you been?” He kept his hands in the pockets of his black jeans. His shoulders were tense, pushed upwards as if he were holding himself back. 

“Not… too horrible,” you replied. “You?”

“Anxious.” He was honest. Too honest. Knowing that he’d been anxiously waiting for you to do what you promised, to talk to him, made you feel horrible, selfish. Might as well stop stalling and pull the bandaid off in one go. 

“I, um, I talked to Erik.” 

His head shot up, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “You did?”

“Yeah.” You chuckled. “We… we broke up. For good. People drift apart. And, not only did I find myself drifting away from him, but I drifted towards someone else. Someone really special, made just for me.”

A smile so wide that his gums were showing spread across his face. He took a step towards you. “Really?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Really.”

Minseok didn’t hesitate. He reached forward, cupping your face with both of his hands. Then he kissed you. 

The first kiss was deep and electrifying. It was warm, soft. He took it slowly as you followed along. It was perfectly right. 

He was still smiling when he pulled away. You giggled at his happiness. He took that as an invitation to pepper your lips with more short kisses. He moved to your cheeks and your nose, making sure to capture every inch of your face. You were surprised by the shower of affection, but you certainly enjoyed it. An eruption of cheers broke the sweet moment. 

To your left, nearly the entire pack was clapping and cheering in jest. Junmyeon looked guilty and apologetic while Jongdae simply rolled his eyes. 

“And here I thought this was going to be a private moment,” you groaned through your teeth. 

“Sorry,” Minseok sighed. “Not in this family.”

You smiled at him. “I guess that’s something I’ll have to get used to.”

He leaned his forehead against your own. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

[pl-panda]

The vines that bind us - Chapter 8

Chapter 1 || Previous || Next

------

“I trust you to act responsibly. And as a Guardian, you probably should start learning magic anyway.”

“Let’s get started then. Please tell me I can curse Lie-la!”

“Mari!”

“Just kidding, alright?” She smiled innocently and Tikki shook her head. 

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

Somewhere into the evening, Chloe called her to inform her that she was on her way back and she shouldn’t worry. When the blonde entered the room… it was a mess, using the word loosely. The walls were in all colors of the rainbow sans their original one. The room seemed to be double its size and Chloe was pretty sure her bed just got a fourth dimension added to it. There was also that the plants seemed to have taken over one corner and created their own kingdom. She could even see them raising a flag with Marigold Design and creations logo on it. 

“Figures! I leave you for one afternoon…!” Chloe said with disdain while trying to step over what looked almost like a black hole. 

“Chlo? Is that you?” Mari’s voice came from two and a half directions at the same time. The blonde had no idea how was it even possible.

“Isley! Get your pretty ass here so I can properly scold you!”  

“Um… Kinda tied at the moment,” came an answer.

“I don’t want to hear it. I had a long day of scheming and I need my beauty sleep.” Chloe complained. “Get me my bed fixed at least.”

“Oh fine! Tikki! Spots on!” There was a pink light from two separate directions and suddenly Ladybug jumped out of the small hole in the ground. “Miraculous Ladybug!” 

After the wave of shining bugs settled and the room was back to normal Mari detransformed and smiled apologetically at Chloe. “Sorry. Got carried away with the new book.”

“Picasso’s guide to architecture and interior design?” Chloe deadpanned. 

“Nope,” The bluenette smiled and pulled a rather hefty tome from her bed to show it to her friend. “Someone dropped it inside our room when we were out. Tikki deemed it safe and taught me the basics.” 

“I think you will need remedial lessons, given how our room looked. What exactly was the purpose of making my bed four-dimensional?”

“I might have tried to expand the room a bit, but I miscalculated a tiny bit. There is a surprising amount of math in magic.”

“Whatever. I would tell you how my date went, but I’m utterly exhausted now.” Chloe teased her friend. She expected the girl to beg her for the details. Instead, Mari pointed her arm at the bed.

“Pea and feather go along. Make this bed out of stone.” Her iridescent green and blue eyes flashed for a moment… and nothing happened. Chloe smiled triumphantly and tried to jump onto her bed, only to hit the cover hard. While on the outside, the bed looked like nothing changed, in reality, it was hard as the floor. Funnily enough, she could easily slip under the cover, but it still felt like lying on the floor with sheets of paper sewn together as a blanket. 

“You’re mean!” She cried. “I’m now commandeering your bed.” Before Mari even understood what Chloe meant, the girl jumped under her covers and snuggled on one side. There was still enough space for Mari to join if she was brave enough. 

“Ugh! That’s my bed!” 

“Exactly. You can take mine if you like it enough to modify it.”

“Tikki!” Mari cried, hoping that at least the Kwami would support her.

“Nope. You’re the one that made the bed so now you must sleep in it.”

“Um…” Mari tried to look in the book for a counterspell, but in the end, she just pointed her hand on the bed. “Princes found her prince at last. Take the curse and…” she tried to quickly find some rhyme. “break the glass? Ups…”

The window suddenly exploded, but the bed glowed, and after checking it was okay she picked Chloe to move her over. Except it totally didn’t work and the blonde instead pulled her into the comfortable bed. The tired Mari was too exhausted, both emotionally and physically, to care. She just cuddled closer to her adopted sister for some comfort. And heat since there was now a hole instead of the window and it was February.

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

The next morning Mari and Chloe woke up in a similar mess to the day before. And once again they were clothed.

“Ugh… I should probably calm down on magic.” Mari stretched herself a bit to get ready. She quickly changed into the fresh version of her yesterday’s outfit and helped Chloe gather herself a new ‘something’ for the day’s work. Apparently, for the next step of her scheme, she needed to look like a perfect Parisian princess. Something about Media attention. Mari was too busy with her tablet to care. 

She received a mail at 6 am that there was a slight change in the time of the press conference so she needed to forward it to the conference center before she even got to work. While eating breakfast she checked over the summary reaction about the public statement and emotions that accompanied the fallout. Predictably, the pictures served as a nice distraction, but also rallied the citizens behind the company. They treated it as someone making fun of the suffering company and flamed the Lila girl, even though the company said that she was also a victim. Well, there was a footnote about it. 

“You know you don’t need to put so much work into it?” Chloe asked while eating her croissant.

“I do. But if I can’t manage it now, how am I supposed to one day make MDC as big of a brand as Gabriel?”

“By not working yourself into a coffin?”

“Well… Wait a moment.” Mari was interrupted when her phone ringed. She quickly picked the call and her smile was replaced with a frown. “I understand. I will be there soon. Please keep an eye on him and tell the security not to let any more paparazzi.” she hanged up.

“Trouble?” Chloe asked with a grin.

“I’m afraid to ask…” 

“Damian is doing an errand for me. He is such a good sidekick.” The blonde smiled. Mari did not answer but urged her best friend to move on faster.

Since they stayed in their room for breakfast, neither girl wanting to deal with their moronic class longer than needed, they got down just in time… to see the bus leaving them in front of the hotel.

“Are you kidding me?” Chloe raised her hand. “We are in Gotham. Does that… that… Has she got any idea how dangerous is it?!”

“Said the girl that taunted the Riddler.” Mari deadpanned.

“He wouldn’t hurt me.” The blonde answered confidently.

“Anyway… we could call a taxi.” Chloe sneered at the idea, so Mari offered something else. “I could also test that portal spell…” 

“Taxi!” The girl shouted. Mari just shook her head and pulled the mobile phone. After less than five minutes Chas Chandler rolled next to them in his cab.

“I was in the neighborhood.” He smiled.

“Nice seeing you sir.” Mari greeted him before pushing Chloe in the back seat and joining her.

“To the Wayne tower, please. I would appreciate it if you could get us there fast. I need to get my boss to do his work.” She hoped they would arrive before the class to see their faces.

Sadly, the cab got stuck in the traffic and it took them over an hour to arrive. When Mari entered the lobby, she was angry enough to turn into a ‘stern assistant’ mode. Not a nice place to be if you are on her way. She stormed past the security while flashing her badge. They didn’t dare to try to stop her. 

“Get McKinsley to HR. And by the time I arrive I want Lila Rossi and Alya Cessaire to be sitting there!” The second one was directed to the receptionist, who nodded. So far everyone loved Mari, even in her bad mood. It didn’t stop them from being terrified. 

Both she and Chloe got into the elevator. When the doors closed, the blonde grinned. 

“I love it when you finally show your Gothamite side.” 

She got no response from the angry Mari, but through the ride, her smirk did not disappear through the ride. Once they separated, the bluenette continued alone. Angry did not give her emotions justice. She was furious.

Once she finally got on the floor, she stormed through the corridors right to the head of the department’s office. Luckily for everyone, Lila and Alya were already there.

“Who do you think…” Alya started only to be silenced by a death stare from Mari. For the first time in her life, she realized that the bluenette was someone not to be trifled with. 

“Apparently, since this morning I’m your superior.” Mari deadpanned. “Funny thing. I would probably only learn about this from your bragging later on if you didn’t decide, in all your stupidity, to write yourself reference in my name.” It was clear that she did not find it funny. 

“Puh-lease. You bullied Lila since she came. I thought that it was only fair that you’ve repaid her somehow.” Alya babbled, already forgetting her earlier fear.

“So you take full responsibility for forging both your resume?” Mari asked with a raised eyebrow, wanting to have it said out loud for the record. Especially since Madame McKinsley was standing in the entrance.

“Of course. It was totally unfair that such a bully got all the privileges while hard-working Lila had nothing.”

The Head of the Human Resources department sent Mari a tired look that seemed to mean ‘is she for real?’ She was a woman in her thirties with neatly cut black hair and skin in the color of dark chocolate by the name Mrs. Alicia Lynch

“Oh… In that case, you’re disciplinarily fired.”

“What?!” Alya screamed.

“And I will make sure this incident finds itself into your acts,” Alicia said with a frown. 

“You can’t…!” Alya was once more cut off, this time by madame McKinsley.

“They can. And you’re lucky that we are not pressing charges for attempted sabotage.” 

“The security will show you out. The teacher and your guardians will be informed. Since the hotel is paid by Wayne Enterprise for the members of the interns’ program, you will need to find alternative accommodations or simply return to Paris. I’ll leave this to the teacher and parents to resolve.”

“But… But…” Alya wanted to argue. All blood left her face and she seemed close to passing out. A man in a suit, carrying the security badge helped her out of the chair and led her outside.

“Now about you.” Mari turned her gaze toward Lila, who so far was busy checking on her nails.

“Oh! This is ridiculous! I had nothing to do with it. I’m a victim too!”

Marigold turned to McKinsley, who looked dejected.

“We can’t fire her. She was hired for the six months period.”

“Mutual agreement?” Mari asked. She’s been researching ways to dissolve her contract faster. Sadly, she already knew the answer.

“Two months waiting period. Standard to ensure she doesn’t use any of her knowledge against us.” For Mari, it was a year when she couldn’t work for any other company. Luckily, running her own business was still on the table, as long as she stuck to restrictions.

A different idea formed in Blunette’s head. She smirked slightly. “Well, Miss Rossi, looks like you’re in luck. Welcome to Wayne Enterprises. I hope you didn’t have any great ideas.”

Lila gulped. “Was that a threat?”

“No. If I threatened you, you would know. You and your little attack dog forgot that this is not Paris. This is Gotham. Here, we play by my rules.” With that she spun around and left, typing on her tablet. Just before the doors closed, she tossed another sentence that drove the nail deeper. “And this time, there is no minion to do it for you.”

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

Marigold didn’t calm down before reaching the top floor. Her emotions subsided a bit, but she was still on edge. 

“Ugh! How dare those stupid witches to try to use my name to sign their references! And that idiot who somehow believed them. He will definitely not get any bonus this month. Or next. At least they had enough common sense to call me. Except after the fact!” She was pacing in front of her desk. 

Tikki peaked from the inner pocket of her jacket. “At least you could do something about it!” She cheered.

“True. I got rid of one trouble. Without her, I will have a chance for some peace…” She barely finished the sentence when there was a crash in the room next door. Immediately, she rushed inside to check. Turns out her boss for some reason decided to move the desk. He ended up knocking the computer over. 

“Ehm.” She faux-coughed to get his attention.

“Oh! Um… I was just…” Tim tried to find some excuse.

“Trying to open the secret stash of coffee?”

“How do you…” he started to ask flabbergasted, but she interrupted him once more.

“I studied the schematics. And Sarah left me a note about it.” A smirk ghosted her stern face.

“Damn! Now I will need another hiding place.” Tim gathered himself from the ground. “Wait! You moved the desk by yourself?”

“Do I look that strong to you?” She asked, her face unmoving. Just because she came to hate liars didn’t mean she didn’t know how to bend the truth a little. And technically, she just avoided answering altogether.

“Whatever. You must’ve ordered the repair crew to move it then. I want my coffee.” He said pouting.

“Sir. I’m supposed to help you manage your time better. I am not simply your secretary.” Marigold informed him firmly. She checked with both Chloe and Nathalie what her responsibilities included.

“But you made that divine brew on Monday!”

“That was a gift for my first day of work.” Plus I had no idea what I was doing.

“But…”

“Enough buts for today. You have a meeting with Mr. Fox about the Friday presentation in half-an-hour. Did you familiarize yourself with the content of the email he sent you?”

“Ah! Of course, I did. I totally didn’t spend my night…”

“Then I would appreciate it if you spent the next half-an-hour on doing so.”

“B…” He didn’t even finish when her glare stopped him. She could pull Batstare better than the original.

“If you act like a proper CEO, I might think about making you some of my ‘divine brew’ as a reward.” She suggested and closed the door, leaving him to his own device. She had several calls to make and set other meetings

---------

It was two hours later when angry Caline Bustier demanded a meeting with her. Mari didn’t even think before redirecting her to HR. The teacher was supposed to be the chaperone of the group and look after them after work. She was also directly responsible for all of their actions. She was very displeased that now she had to take care of Alya for eight hours a day that used to be free time for her. So of course, she blamed everything on Marinette. This time, it backfired. She had to quickly give up any accusations before she ended up in an even worse situation. 

Luckily, after that little incident, the day passed without any more surprises. She had half-a-mind to search the town for her mother in the evening. Since she was hired, she was now technically independent of the class. Chloe had a slip from her father that allowed her to basically ignore the teacher. The blonde convinced Mari that mindless wandering the city would only get her robbed. Or at least involved in attempted robbery since she could easily kick ass if she only wanted. Instead, Mari spent the afternoon shopping for materials and working on a new outfit for uncle Jagged that he ordered for his visit to Gotham in a month or so.

She also made a quick call to Paris to discuss things with her hire. The girl informed her that she would happily run the store a little longer. Mari promised to even consider to hire her permanently if she did well. 

Chloe had another date scheming meeting with Damian Wayne. At this point, it was unclear what their relationship was. Good thing: neither did the tabloids. Mari promised to the blonde to hold back on the search for her mom until Friday afternoon. She also promised to take both Adrien and Chloe with her when she visited a contact in the local club. They would celebrate her getting a job and the first week over.

All would be great. If she didn’t spot a vigilante on the rooftop next to her (now fixed) window. Even then, it was Gotham. The bats were rather common at this point. It wasn’t like when she left and they were only starting. Batman was still mostly a myth back then, even after six years of work. Except this vigilante was clearly staking her room specifically. he even had binoculars that she was sure had night vision in them. 

She opened the window and picked a pencil. With deadly precision she tossed it. The wooden tool sailed through the air until it hit the binoculars and broke one side of them. She huffed and closed the window before pulling the curtains closed. How rude.

---------

NEXT

[blog-sliverofjade]

Of Doms & Subs 6: At Least it Wasn’t Twilight

Pairing: Angus Hopper x OFC

Summary:  What's a submissive female to do when she fights her nature and goes on the run as a Lone wolf to avoid being assimilated into a pack?

Word count: 1411

Of Doms & Subs Master List

“Why are we watching An American Werewolf in Paris?” I asked, head tilted to one side that I distantly recognized as a faintly canine gesture.

“It’s sort of a tradition,” Alan answered.  “When someone’s newly Changed, we watch a werewolf movie just to talk all the way through it.”

“There’s no American Werewolf in Canada, but they got French Canadians, right?  Close enough,” Shane said.  Someone threw a kernel of popcorn at him, which he deftly caught in his mouth.

“Could be worse,” Mickayla said mournfully.  “They made me watch Teen Wolf.”

“I thought chicks were supposed to like that stuff!” Shane protested.

“Yeah, if you’re thirteen,” Mickayla and I said in unison.

“Do you have a teenage girl living with you, Shane?” Alan asked far too innocently.  “Because I could have sworn you had every season on DVD.”

The bickering that ensued masked the sounds of Angus entering the room, but not even the popcorn could hide his scent.  My heart beat faster when he passed behind the couch to settle in the recliner within reach of my left arm.  His de facto throne was the highest seat in the room and thus avoided any breach of protocol by anyone sitting higher than him.  I was so painfully aware of his presence that any one of the already crowded couches looked good in comparison to my seat.  Everyone who didn’t have other obligations had come.  I wasn’t sure whether it was courtesy, by design, or on accident that I ended up sitting next to the fearless leader.

The movie, surprisingly, was a good teaching tool.  They were quick to point out inaccuracies (take off your clothes, first, idiot!), many of which I already knew, as well as what laws both mundane and pack were broken.  No to mention cultural differences.  Such as: why don’t we get crappy underground raves?  It’s Seattle, why throw one when you can go find one?

Apparently they also had a cage in the basement for injured wolves and those who had temporarily lost control, like newbies.  When someone tried to suggest that it was for kinky purposes, Angus quickly shut them down.  No one even complained when Alan and I ranted about the medical inaccuracies for a good ten minutes.  (They’d all be so much raspberry jam on the sidewalk.  Did they use packing tape on that bandage?  What is it even for, anyway?  Broken nose?  Concussion?  Hiding his funny looks?)

“Reason number two: we can have a little ‘chat’ with your ex,” Mickayla said, continuing her randomly numbered list of reasons why packs are awesome, when the Big Bad Evil Guy/love interest’s ex was killed at the end.

“Uh, that’s really not necessary,” I stammered.  She looked at me skeptically.  The others quieted to listen, which made me stutter out an explanation.  “He wanted the perfect 1950’s lifestyle complete with a Suzy Homemaker waiting with dinner when he got home and a mistress on the side.  He didn’t try very hard to hide it because he thought I’d put up with it.”  There were several snorts of scornful laughter.  “He’d signed a pre-nup thinking I wouldn’t leave.  I’ll never forget the look on his face when I got everything, which was how I put myself through school.  Now he’s stuck with some nineteen-year-old he knocked up who can’t cook any more than I can.”

“I like her, can we keep her?” Alan asked of no one in particular, which elicited more good-natured jibes at his expense as well as general agreement.  Or matter that latter was just wishful thinking.  It was either that or their testosterone talking.  Probably the testosterone because the conversation turned to the various methods of disposing of bodies.

While the others debated the merits of burial at sea vs woodchippers and lye, Ellie caught my eyes with her own hazel ones before heading upstairs with several empty popcorn bowls.  I followed a moment later.

“I-if,” she stuttered, swallowed hard, then started again as she loaded the dishwasher.  Everyone else knew to leave the cleanup to Ian and Gordon as it was their turn, but she seemed to need something to do with her hands.  “What’s my timeline for making a decision?”

“The ceremony to bring a new member into a pack is done on the full moon, which is in eleven days.”  A look flickered across her face that suggested she was aware of the math, but refrained from interrupting as I gave a brief description of the ritual.  To her credit, she didn’t bat an eye at the thought of consuming my flesh.

I fell into a practiced relaxed pose in the hopes that it would put her more at ease as it often had with others in the past.  Even if she wasn’t adept at reading body language, or even consciously aware, her wolf would pick up on my cues.  I was glad that she had not yet learned to smell emotions and would have to believe what I allowed my face to reveal, which was currently wearing the mask of patient mentor.  What I felt, however, was worlds away from what showed.

“If I were to join a pack, what would be expected of me?”  I smiled at the conditionals, though they lacked the same determination as before.

“Monthly meetings.  A ten percent tithe once you find employment, which goes towards things like helping members get back on their feet, new wolves, and the like.  No one would ask you to fight, but any pack would benefit from your medical expertise.”  Her eyebrows quirked up in surprise.  “Fast healing can present its own issues, like bones that aren’t set properly.”  Soft, dusky pink lips pursed in thought as her sharp, sky-blue eyes with a touch of green and honey at the center flickered back and forth in contemplation of various scenarios.

“You already have Alan for that.”  That was not the conclusion I was expecting.

“As great as Alan is, he’s only one person, who has a full-time job,” I pointed out.  “What if, God forbid, he was hurt?  Or there were more injured than he could handle at once?”

“Does that happen often?”  Instead of appearing stricken at the prospect, or for not having considered those possibilities first, her eyes narrowed shrewdly as if she were already calculating assets and performing triage in her mind.

“Even once is too often.”  Ellie accepted that non-answer without digging further.

“Even though I have to give it up as a career?” she asked bitterly.  That was when realization hit like a hammer.  Nursing was more than a job to her.  She’d all but said that her ex forbade her to work.  Then she took his money to rebuild herself.

“Your wolf will see frightened patients as prey,” I said gently.  The dismay she tried to hide nearly broke my old, cynical heart.  “Even if the humans would let you once they figured out who you are.”

“Any specific duties for an unmated, submissive female?”  She had turned her back to me to wipe down the counters.  Her scent was a confusing mix of fear tinged with arousal.  Evidently she found her emotions bewildering as well because when she faced me again a rosy pink blossomed across her cheeks even as a furrow developed between her brows.

“Help out when and where you can as the situation calls.  As a submissive, your presence can have a calming effect on us sociopaths.”

“I think you mean ‘psychopath’,” she muttered.  A smile threatened to lift the corners of my mouth.  “And I seem to have the opposite effect on ya’ll.”

“How can you help this looney bin if you aren’t calm yourself?”  Small, white teeth worried at her bottom lip as she digested that.  I didn’t point out that the males were reacting to her like wolves in rut, which no amount of submissive energy would fix.  She was skittish enough as it was.

“I promise that I won’t touch you.”  Disappointment and relief flashed over her face like the shadow of a cloud.  To hide a small smile of satisfaction, I leaned until my nose nearly touched the soft flesh below her ear and breathed her in.  Her heart beat under her skin like a trapped butterfly.  Desire, both hers and mine, spiked sharply in the air.  “Not until you ask me first.”  I forced myself to walk away as casually as I could manage, her stare boring into my back.

[shortstoriesmk]

Who Called The Uber?

Who Called The Uber?

by Massi Kabir

 Of course, I could tell you now, that my natural curiosity for everything outside the walls of everyday dullness brought me here. That I love flirting with one of my many fears, seducing her, just to slit her throat during one of our first dates.

I could tell you that I think of my comfort zone as a purple ugly pajama, which, whenever my courage lets me, I happily trade for nudity.

There is certainly truth to these points, and yet, they all would undermine the immense irrational power of a man's lust in his early 30's.

So, if you are really wondering who called that Uber last night, let me tell you:

 My dick did.

  So this is how it went:

 One last check in front of the mirror. I like what I see and tell myself silently, "You look fresh, brother".

It's probably mostly my nerves talking, but yes, I did somehow find that sweet spot between under- and overdressed. I can tell that my white button-up shirt and black leather shoes are happy to know that funerals are not their only reason to exist. I promise them something special for tonight. The casual green jeans and a black blazer add to my contentment and make me put my shoulders back. I do that because I recently read that we, humans, derive from the lobsters. Apparently, their postures tell a lot about their ranking within their dominance hierarchy. Low posture, low rank. A balanced upright posture is supposed to increase serotonin levels, which ultimately results, along with other benefits, in better mating opportunities. I believe that, and hence, push my chest out, eager to kiss the world with my nipples.

Lastly, I grab my deo roller. I tell it that I need some more tonight and that armpits ain't enough. It knows I quit perfume a long time ago and hence, complies loyally doing the extra shift while I take it on an extended trip over my body's skin.

 Finally, in the Uber, I count my breaths like a Zen Buddhist despite knowing I'll never be one. I admit to myself that I'm a nervous bloke under the leadership of his lust and throw the driver a grin through his stained rear-view mirror. With every inhale, there is a hail of bravery echoing inside of me. ‘14 minutes till arrival’, says the app that managed to erase my interest in public transport forever. Enough time for me to consider changing the number of open shirt buttons from two to three.

It's a gamble, I know. But, it could pay off. I mean, they will see that my chest has not given birth to much hair yet, but, on the other hand, 3 open buttons demonstrate a sense of willingness and availability. And, in a place like the one I am about to enter, these two attributes are dominating currencies.

So, three it is.

The Uber drops me in front of number 73.

I ring the bell. 80 seconds later, a shrill tone cuts off my stream of doubts, whether this is the right address or not, and lets me open the gate. My balls are hoping it's the gate to heaven. Everything is possible right now. I feel it. I head towards the house.

 A plum, too dry to open doors like that, welcomes me while I gaze at her face. The sperms I brought, that a minute ago were still arguing about who would be the first in line, suddenly start to sympathize with the idea of retreat. Within seconds, the old lady's hands swallow my €80 while her noisy décolleté goes fishing for my eyeballs. My deep Zen breathing turns all the sudden shallow and, my pulse climbs a little mountain, while my face tries its best to not give it away. Then, I stare through the second entrance door, which is out of glass. I already get the feeling that it probably does a better job of serving as an exit.

Whatever. It's too late to get my bucks back and too early to decide to remain clothed, so vamos.

 I'm somewhere in the outskirts of Lisbon inside a villa that will probably never live up to that title.

The smoke in the air forms a maze for my vision. But, it's ok. It doesn't take much vision anyway to understand that pants are outnumbering skirts in this cave that smells like filth. During its amateur application process for this event, I raised the question on WhatsApp of how many people would attend.

‘100’ was the answer. Now, finding myself looking at an empty dance floor, I feel this strong urge to sue the former math teacher of whoever typed that ridiculously inaccurate reply.

The plum, sensing the swelling of my disappointment, urges me to come with her for a little house viewing before I start mingling. If her whole outfit wouldn't scream so loud, "Please, fuck me!" I might have understood her real name when she mentioned it earlier on my arrival. The syllables of her name, however, got swallowed instantly by the kanon that her different overexposed body parts sing tonight. Off-key, sadly.

I follow her walking up the stairs. Her moment to wave her ass cheeks right in my face. She knows what she is doing and does so in pride, reminding me of a patriot waving his country's flag. It has to be a patriot from somewhere within the European Union, though, ‘cause, something is telling me that the borders of her ass must be equally open. The upper floor is dark and arranged with cold walls that shape rooms that are meant to host strangers engaging in the warmest act that God has ever invented for us.

In the aisle, we pass a closed wooden door. "We can't go in here, right now," she informs me, "there are people inside, fucking!" She says that in a fashion more causal than a 'Fruit of the Loom' shirt. In particular, the word "fucking" and the way it sounds trespassing her slightly chapped lips has me irritated immensely. I mean sure, there is not much romance to the word by default anyway, never was. But her tonality and the way she lets the word roll over her tongue makes me somehow want to commit to vanilla sex for the rest of a monogamous life.

The tour through the upper floor continues. She calls it her 'dream villa'. I get introduced to Dark room, glory whole wall, various single rooms, two open fucking spaces, and a little cage. Except for the one room that was closed, it is all still empty here; no sweat yet, no moans, no ripped condom packages. She goes on about how she built it all on her own, how this is all a product of her imagination, and how it took her 6 years to bring this place to where it is right now.

I pretend caring while she keeps massaging her ego. I am too caught up to be real with her. I am still disturbed. I mean, why would she treat the word "fucking" like that? It was this cold aggression in her voice that bugged me. As if she had stored it inside the bottom freezer box of her vocabulary's fridge and made it a habit to bend for it whenever she felt like rebelling onto the world. The hobby psychologist inside me senses that trauma made her a rebel – a rebel that fights with the weapons of vulgarity, just to cover up scars of a past encounter with a cheap replica of love. We all have been there, some way or another, so I try my best not to judge her. And still, I hate her.

The f word always was something holy for me, especially out of a woman's mouth. A real lady chooses to use it scarcely, and that's where the magic lingers. Only when a man has already done the necessary, to own the right to hear her language go south, will she choose to dip her words in dirt. Nothing is sweeter for a man than having a well-spoken lady using the f word for the first time while whispering in his ear the request to penetrate her so she can lose her brain. Needless to say, this plum seems to have lost its sweetness a very long time ago.

 We go downstairs again, and I drop my blazer at the cloakroom. Her "see you later" is featured by a gaze of her eyes that tells me that she has plans to liberate me from more than just my blazer at a later point this night.

With her leaving my side, I have finally arrived at my first swinging party. Officially. I welcome myself with a beer that I order from the bar. I speak from my balls while I do so, oiling my vocal cords with some fabricated confidence. The truth, however, is I am nervous.

I came alone tonight in order to not to be alone tonight. I came to let my lust off its leash. Yes. Nobody can see it, but I wear a mask at this moment, one of my favorite ones; it's called anonymity. I am leaning at the bar facing the dance floor and nervously swim in this sensation this mask provides me with, all while sipping on this lukewarm beer. Being anonymous means being a nobody to everybody. It's a chance to flip your skin and dance life with a different set of steps for a little while. You can be a dervish under the disco ball of life, at least temporarily.

But here is the downside: anonymity is a very fragile phenomenon, it cracks the longer you stick around. People get to know you, open their boxes and throw you inside one of them, without caring if you break or not. This makes life easier for them and harder for you.

Right now, however, leaning on this bar, sipping on this bottle, I can feel that I am box-free. I can be whoever I want to be, or better, whoever I am.

This sense of freedom, mixed with the alcohol that starts curving through my veins, calms me down, and I decide to make my way to the other end of the room. My chest stays out, of course, it's mingling time.

 I scanned the room already for all its potential and could only find one young lady that I really desire to undress instantly. I am heading towards her, and position myself next to her, and her male companion, who could be her husband, it's hard to tell. Sure is, they are close to each other and seem to have found a nice way of throwing and catching each other’s smiles. I can tell by the way they treat each other. It looks like love that already ripened for some years. 'Their sex must be good', I am thinking. At the same time, I wonder, 'Why are they here then? Why are they not at home with some candles and a record player spinning a Marvin Gay vinyl?’ They are in their early 40's, I am guessing, which makes me wonder if they have children. If so, what did they tell them where they are going tonight? Theater? Cinema? Dinner with friends? And did they hire a babysitter? The nerd in me wants to know now how many millions have been spent in the history of the world on babysitters so parents can go and exchange body fluids with strangers in a place where glory holes adorn walls. 'The world is sick,' I am thinking, 'in a sweet way. And so am I.'

I heard once that one should always stick to the '3-second rule' when planning to approach his object of desire. That means it should be avoided at all cost to spend more than three-seconds contemplating on the execution of the approach. Now all this thinking got me already to second 42 and I am feeling how hesitation gets the better of me. What if they reject me? What if they don't speak English? What if I am not their type? What will the others think of me when they see how I am getting rejected? All these amateur questions start to vomit over my mind and leave me crippled in the corner, three meters away from the couple my dick would like to have a threesome with.

I tell myself, 'there will be another, better chance later' and shift my focus back to the poorest dance floor I have seen in years.

There is some movement happening. The light is getting dimmed and the plum tells people to make some space for what is about to come. Then she starts speaking with a man whose size reminds me of a vintage wardrobe. His arms are filled with ink and his veins tell an ugly story about steroids. All of a sudden, mid through the conversation, she starts pointing at me and explains to him eagerly something which clearly involves me and my presence. After her briefing, he promptly makes his way towards me. While he does so, he reminds me of a big dog who is going for his bone, which Mama just threw for him. His eyes are getting bigger and there is a rising amount of saliva flowing in his mouth. I dislike the fact that she chose me to be the bone in this scenario, but I guess our brief sighting-seeing tour made her believe that we have a special connection or something. My fault, I should stop being nice to people I hate.   

 I'll never know his name, but there is a 99% chance that his name is Joao, Pedro, or Miguel. The Portuguese are special people, very sensitive and creative. I love them. But when it comes to naming their children, it seems like creativity and originality are two players they constantly put on the bench.

The walking wardrobe, who looks like a 'Pedro' to me, reaches me and screams in my ear:

"Come! She wants you to come."

Maybe he even said:

"Come! She wants you to cum."

Not sure about it, but honestly, in this place, these two sentences point in the very same direction. His right palm eats my left arm as he tries to pull me closer towards his plum, who is waiting on the edge of her small yet still under-crowded dance floor. I brush his hand off my limb and tell him to chill, asking what he wants from me. Pedro repeats his sentence in his broken English and lets eventually go off me. There is some tension between us, I can tell, and so can the few people around us. I'm not a short bloke, but Pedro's height exceeds mine by minimum seven centimetres and he is certainly physically stronger than me. Now that he is so close, I can witness the distinctive features in his face and start reading a bit of the story that is written inside his mime. It's a story of pain, I can tell by the tension of the muscular tissue in his face and the corners of his mouth, which seem to travel more often south rather than north.

I always thought of pain as a huge house, something like a villa. And if sadness is the main hall inside that villa, then aggression is something like the entrance hall or lobby. Behind aggression always lives sadness. Behind every fist always hides a tear. Looking at Pedro now makes me believe that he somehow got stuck in that lobby of pain and that for every tear he swallowed, one of his enemies had to swallow one of his jewelry-adorned fists. I don't want to swallow his fist. Not now, not here, not in this filthy cave that he calls his kingdom.

So, I walk up to the plum with him and ask her, “What's the matter?” She tells me: "You are way too sexy to be standing there all on your own, honey. Sit down here next to my friend". She points at the small sofa next to her, right on the dance floor. Her friend is a lady in her late 30's, a couple of years older than me, who refuses to hide her crooked, brownish teeth, while she grins at me. A small wave of disgust breaks inside me. I usually feel great sympathy for people who carry their imperfections with dignity and some sort of pride because it can show confidence, and confidence has always been a sexy thing to me. But like with everything, there is a line. And unfortunately, her set of teeth is crossing that line by miles.

Despite the lack of resonance I'm feeling, I decide to sit down next to her. I guess Pedro and the plum left some sort of intimidating impression on me, otherwise, I can't tell why I would ever sit on this couch. On her right sits another man, roughly my age, who seems, besides me, to be the only man that picked a white button-up shirt as his attire for this night, which was supposed to be a glorious one. He looks happier and way more at ease compared to me. 'Why am I sitting here? What the fuck am I doing here?' I'm asking myself, while I feel this pressure inside my body. In my mind, I'm comparing this pressure, with how a woman must feel when she is pregnant. I came here, being impregnated by lust, trying to give birth to one of my shadows that lingers in a room inside of me, where society and all its conventions have no access to. But now, sitting on this damn couch, getting my thigh stroked by a woman that never believed in dentistry, I'm starting to come to terms with the fact that tonight, this pregnancy is about to end in a miscarriage. ‘What the fuck am I doing here?’

My pulse climbs again this mountain as I'm starting to understand what is about to happen here. The light is being dimmed, even more, a new song, even worse than the one before, is being played and the plum approaches the pole, which is decorating the center of the dance floor. Her time has come. The plum strip show is about to happen. Finally or, sadly. Depending on whom you ask in here. I stay with my opinion that she is way too old for these type of things. There should be a universal pole dance law in place, forbidding women with a certain amount of wrinkles in her face to ever touch a pole and charge money for it, I'm thinking. I reminisce about my €80 entry fee and what else I could have done with it. There was a commercial by a charity, which I spotted the other day, claiming it would cost only €40 to save a life in Africa. And here I am now, watching these two old white breasts stroking a pole in an unpopular swinging club, somewhere in Portugal, all while I could have saved two beautiful black twins, somewhere in Africa. Bravo!

The strip show continues, and I'm carefully watching her movement and the way she carries herself, sliding around this pole with her 10 cm high heels on. I need to give her some credit even though I struggle somehow finding the right words for it. Maybe for the effort. Or maybe, for the past potential that used to be there. I can imagine how, at a time, when her body didn't show any plum resemblance yet, this pole and these heels used to be her key into a world full of decadence and successful businessmen, who liked to spoil her with material things, after they got their naked part of the deal. Time took this key from her one day like it does to all pretty ladies. Time threw that key overboard into the inevitable ocean of evanescence, and she jumped right after it trying to catch it again and again, without notable success to this day. No anti-aging cream, no surgeon, and no dance pole can prevent that key from hitting the ocean bed. Thinking about this, I almost feel sorry for her. Maybe, it was not her fault. Maybe, we are to blame; we men, by tricking pretty ladies into betting all their chips on their beauty, and making them believe this winning streak will last forever. Sadly, it doesn't.

Physical beauty serves the eyes. And the eyes of humans are little hungry monsters. Monsters that like to eat only one thing and one thing only: Symmetry. Like a dog loves to chew on a bone, our eyes enjoy chewing on symmetry; the more, the better. We simply can't get enough of it. Take the face of Kate Moss, for instance. It's like a five-star dish for these two monsters inside our face, especially for the heterosexual men among us. Scientists discovered that the length and width of a face, as well as the distance between and women's mouth and her eyes, determines how attractive she is to men. Ms. Moss apparently got extremely lucky the day that God handed out facial length and width measures because the distance between the middle of her eyes and her mouth is about 46% of the width of her face, which is supposed to be the "golden ratio". The face of this pole dancing plum in front of me, however, has, apart from those oval over-sized earrings hanging from her lobes, literally nothing golden to offer any more. Time has eaten her symmetry.

As she continues to chase her younger self on this pole, with movements that were not invented for a body aged like hers, she starts looking in our direction. We, the three people on this purple couch, are having the courtside seats in this arena of filth. No one is closer to the action. I'm feeling a bit like Jack Nicholson in the Staples Center or Spike Lee in the Madison Square Garden. Probably more like Mr. Lee, to be honest, since the Knicks seem to have performed equally bad in recent years, just like the plum is now. She starts walking up to us. I'm surprised how stable her walk is, considering her age in combination with those stupidly long heels she is wearing. Personally, I never had a thing for heels; it never did much to me, seeing a girl walking around all stiff and unnatural like that. Marilyn Monroe supposedly said once, "We owe the man who invented high heels so much." I never had a clue what she was talking about until I read again about some scientists that claimed high heels make women's feet look more petite and therefore overall, more attractive to men. Well, I'm a man, and one of the coolest girls I ever dated, came in flip flops to our first date, and instantly gave birth to a butterfly in my belly. But that's maybe for another story. Sure is, I would have made Marilyn wear some Birkenstock's before starting to penetrate her.

So, as the plum arrives at the sofa, she grabs the hand of the other guy and pulls him towards a chair that Pedro, in the meantime, has put right next to the pole. A new song is being played, and she starts lap dancing on the guy who might share with me the affinity for white button-up shirts but certainly not the taste in women. Some people start whistling and yelling little sounds of excitement while her ass takes a hike up his lap, planting a little lump between his legs. I stare at the grin he parked in his face and discover, to my surprise, that it's really a genuine one. The muscles in our face have always fascinated me; they are like a lie detector. I can always tell by someone's facial expressions how close they live to authenticity in a given moment. A fake smile relaxes fast, too fast. On a genuine smile, the corners of the mouth go back calmly and smoothly, to its neutral position, it relaxes slowly. As I keep witnessing this, for me, rather tragic performance, I can clearly see that the guy is genuinely happy and pleased. Pleased by a woman that I named plum the first minute I caught sight of her; a dry plum to be exact.

I feel like an alien that is stranded on a planet that is illiterate to the language of sex and erotic. Where lust is a hyper-inflated currency, making anyone a millionaire, whipping his ass with bills whenever his hormones hand him a dose of horniness. An alien always feels lonely. A feeling of loneliness can only flourish when there is, for whatever reason, no ground or space for sharing. We share by communicating, mostly through language, which is mostly transmitted spoken or through our bodies. My genitals clearly speaks Suaheli compared to the others in here, so how on earth would I ever be able to communicate and share anything in this cave?

Next to me, still sits the lady with the crooked smile, still rubbing my thigh, still refusing to see a dentist. Just like the interior design of her mouth lacks order and alignment, I am starting to lack some patience. Nothing of what my five senses have been absorbing in the last 70 minutes has been really to my liking, and something is telling me that the worst is yet to come if I don't take immediate action. The little mathematician inside my currently confused brain starts doing his job and calculates the probability of me being next in line for a lap dance, like the one I am forced to watch right now. Considering the fact that I'm the only remaining male on this couch, which feels like a substitute bench, the chance of me being the next player on the lap dance field seems alarmingly high. So high that my heartbeat starts mimicking some dub step rhythm and I actually start feeling a bit scared. "I need to get the fuck out of here" is what my inner voice starts shouting. The thought of me sitting in the middle of this dance floor, being watched by all these horny eyeballs while a dry plum slides down my crotch, lets my heartbeat go even higher, approaching more and more the tempo territory of some ‘drum n bass’ track. This cocktail of emotions my spirit is sipping on right now doesn't taste well- I feel scared, disgusted, and ashamed all at the same time. Not good. I need to leave. Now!

 I stand up, fast and assertive. In doing so, I brush off the lady's hand of my thigh, who then tries to stop me by reaching for my wrist, while mumbling some, for me, indigestible syllable salad. She is obviously trying to convince me that I should be staying. That I should be patiently waiting for this present they got prepared for me. I quickly look back at her and can tell by her surprised look that she has no clue of how I'm feeling. She must really be thinking that I'm letting go of some sort of once in a lifetime chance here.

I rush to the cloakroom, just to find out that it's locked. Fuck. I just want my blazer and escape this place. I look around, trying to find someone who could help me with my dilemma, and see Pedro approaching me. He must have seen how I rushed off the couch and also seems surprised about my sudden change of plans. "What's wrong, my friend?" he asks. For a split second, I'm considering to tell him, that we are further away from being friends than the pope from ever using a pack of condoms in his life, but then, discard that idea quickly and just reply: "I need to leave. Can you open the door? I need my blazer." He pulls a set of keys out of his pocket and opens the door, visibly disturbed by my ambition to leave his cave. He almost seems to take it personally and wants to know, "Why do you want to leave? You don't like it here? What's your problem, my friend?" As I take my blazer off the hanger, I tell him that he doesn't have to worry about my problem and that all he needs to know right now is that I need to leave. He senses that I'm serious and decides not to continue his Q&A session with me. He assists me to the exit, where I decide to turn around for one last time and give this place a final look. One last observation that shall be burned into my memory forever, reminding me what I don't want in my still young, erotic life.

I look at the men in here, who are all still excitingly following the narrative of the plum's strip show. She seems to have found another victim that she is now arousing with her clumsy movements. It's a man in green shorts and a blue tank top, who reminds me again of the fact that I'm embarrassingly overdressed tonight. He also seems to have the time of his life, receiving what is, in my view, still Portugal's poorest pole dance performance. I stare at his happy face one last time, observing this sincere, lustful joy that is being displayed in there.

A line from my favorite rapper comes to mind and I whisper it to myself while I finally walked out of my

first swinging party:

 "One man's pain is another man's pleasure.

One man's trash is another man's treasure."

Outside, I button my shirt all the way up to the collar button, grab my phone, and open the Uber app.

This time, it's me who orders the Uber,

 not my dick.

[survivor-mountmerapi]

Ep. 6: “You never know what some people may have up their sleeve” - Rachel

DeNara

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY VOTED OUT JAMES!!!!!! I AM SOOOOOOOOO FLIPPING MAD!!!!!!!!! HE WAS THE ONLY PERSON IN THIS GAME I WANTED TO PLAY WITH!!!!!

This has Julia written all over it.... I don't expect to make the merge now, but if I do, I am going for blood....

Julia

HOW ARE PIETRO AND I STILL HERE?!?!?! This is sexy

Pietro

I cant believe this allow me and Julia to survive another round. We not only have now a 4 person alliance, but Julia told me she has an idol. We are running this game and we are here to stay, and we will keep slaying the favs. Julia was telling me earlier the day that she was gonna play her idol cause everyone was definately voted her out, but when I talked to Rachel I realised there was a chance she could flip, so I quickly made a group chat with me, Julia, Anastasia and Rachel to try to get them on our side... and it worked!! I LITERALLY THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA TAKE US HOURS TO FLIP THEM, and they decided to flip in 5 minutes.

AND ALSO, this people are playing so stupid! Like Elle in tribal saying how much she trusted James, and how Moth backstabbed her in the past like girllll why are you revealing so many info to EVERYONE?? you are a warrior or a wannabe?? I'm probably sounding very cocky but damn it this people are all so easy to read!!

Raffy

So. Much. Happened. Tonight. Firstly, I think DeNara and Nicholas both realize that Warriors are on the bottom after watching the other tribe's tribal council. This put them both in Mess mode. According to Steven, Nicholas told him about a 5-person alliance that was created with Madi, Gian, DeNara, Ginnifer, and Nicholas. Nicholas said it was created to take out the Winners (Steven and I). He said to Steven that he wants to work with us and to get the tribe to a 2-2-2 tribe split by voting out Ginnifer. Voting Ginnifer did not require this amount of effort as I believe she was the easiest target tribe. But wait. It gets messier. DeNara comes to me and tells me that Nicholas is snaking everyone on the tribe. She says that Nicholas came up with the whole alliance, and that he's been trying to play Steven and I (which we already kind of figured from Gian and Madi). Steven told her that Nicholas was throwing her under the bus which prompted to send quote receipts to both of us about how Nicholas has been playing puppet master to get the newbies and winners to target each other. Now, DeNara fully thinks Nicholas is trying to snake her, and she created an alliance with Steven and I to get him out pre-merge. Meanwhile, this required no prompting from Steven or I as we watched the Warriors eat themselves alive without even going to tribal council. These people are a Mess. And I love it. DeNara also told me that she thinks Julia is running the other tribe from head to toe. She believes that Julia is the reason one of her allies (James) was voted out. Therefore, I told her about Julia's idol to get her to target her even more come merge. DeNara seems very willing to vote out Julia, and to enact some revenge from another ORG which I happily fueled. Now, I can go into merge with someone who will target Julia FOR me. This is what happens when you mess with me and try to play me. Julia whenever you read this, I hope it was worth voting out Ellie. Kisses ~Raffy

DeNara

Well, Nicholas is screwed. I spilled the tea to Raffy and Steven about how hard Nic has been playing and they spilled some tea back. Nicholas has been playing all of us and got caught. They even tried to use me as a scape goat. Works for me because now I have an alliance with Steven and Raffy to get out Nicholas and get revenge for James by taking out Julia. TEA, she has an idol apparently. At least I know now! I really hope this goes my way.

DeNara

Nicholas seems like they almost want to get voted out! They are so chaotic. Nicholas was on call with me and Steven saying we should vote out Ginnifer. Then they told me privately it was to lower our target and then take out the winners. THEN messaged Raffy saying he was their Ride or Die! oh my goodness! Nicholas you are a great person, I really think you are fun to video chat with, but this intense premerge play is gonna get you voted out next.

Raffy

Nicholas is already thinking about tribal before the challenge has even ended. He's already trying to "manipulate" everyone into voting Ginnifer when it would not even take half the effort he is putting in to do it. I'm sure everyone would be happy to vote out Ginnifer, but Nicholas is playing so messy that we have to get rid of him now. He's calling me his "ride or die" and how we have "so much in common" when I have barely had two conversations with the dude. I suggested to Revenge R Us (DeNara, Steven, and I) that we could potentially throw next challenge if we win this challenge to get Nicholas out pre-merge. I feel like a devil on their shoulder.

Elle

God I hope it's actually round 6 😅 Not entirely sure lol uhm anyway yayyy Pictionary went great despite me rushing to get dinner done and then setting up my tablet on call 😂 and photoshop temporarily fighting against me its fine we did it folks we made it to merge✨ well after tribal tomorrow for the others. Now the annoying part: I severely doubt I'm lasting more than like, one, two rounds post merge 😔. I think by being an important piece on so many winning challenges (shape memory, with DeNara and Nicholas in Storytelephone, having a big role in the movie trailer challenge (which won in my heart ❤️), and being the drawer in the Pictionary) I'm like... well I'm entirely and utterly screwed 😂. I can hope people like me enough to keep me around maybe? But that's not really how the game is played... oh well. Oh and because I didn't make an earlier confession: I'm so upset they kicked off James it completely blindsided me D: my buddyyyyyyyyy ugh I should've known that if the math was obvious to me it was to the others as well, it was smart to boot an og warrior :(. James didn't deserve this though!! Upsetting, completely and utterly.

Ginny

Me and the warriors strong alliance have a huge plan in store sucks to suck

Gian

Nicholas being a pot stirrer, but that’s gonna cost him his game :)

DeNara

Holy Crap! This is pure chaos! We found out we we were going to tribal and it was scrambling and messages from everyone to everyone. After talking to Raffy and Steven, I made a group chat with the newbies calling out all of Nicholas' chaos. The 5 of us are splitting the votes between Nicholas and Ginnifer in case Nic plays an idol. My brain is hurting today lol.

Raffy

DeNara started a 5 person alliance with Steven, Gian, Madi, and I called "Down to Business." She did this so the plotting of Nicholas' demise can begin. First of all, Ginnifer and Nicholas are throwing everyone's name under the sun out. Secondly, Nicholas has been PM'ing Madi and Gian about what they should do NEXT TRIBAL after they get Ginnifer out. I have no idea why he would ask that because we have to deal with THIS TRIBAL at the moment. Thirdly, it seems Nicholas has been trying to throw the Winners under the bus. Or, at least, he's trying to set himself up to play the middle between the Wannabes and the Winners. However, his plan only works if we don't talk to each other which we did. Now, it's a #NicholasExposedParty over in our alliance. The plan is to split the vote 3-2 to get out Nicholas and, in case he has an idol, vote out Ginnifer. This plan should work because even if Nicholas votes with Ginnifer he gets out. Plus, even if Nicholas votes for Ginnifer, it ties 3-3-1 which would send Nicholas out. Additionally, I threw Julia under the bus hard to Madi and Gian, making them not trust her at all. It's all coming together for me tbh. These next few rounds should be HIGHLY entertaining if you are a Raffy Stan or a Drama Stan.

Moth

I’m gonna make the merge omg. My life in the game was definitely on the line, I was worried about getting voted tonight because it was between me and Elle and I think they’d vote me out first

DeNara

Morning of my first tribal day..... I really hope I can trust Steven and Raffy tonight. Really my fate rests with them for now. I trust Steven more because he seems to play a more loyal game. Raffy didnt want to make an alliance chat last night and that is suspicious to me... I really hope he isnt lying to me abs Revenge R Us is strong

Julia

Pietro and I are low key running this game right now it’s kind of amazing. I am so here for this it’s iconic. We’ve gotten what we’ve wanted each tribal so far and people really haven’t figured it out yet. I’m hoping Steven still wants to link with us at merge because I think the three of us could run this shit

Rachel

Well, I know the merge is upon us. The plan is for hopefully Gian and Madi to survive the vote (i'm going to be praying all day at work; i miss them!) and us six make it to merge(which includes myself, julia, pietro, anastasia, gian, and madi). We could then have a 1/6 shot of winning this if we can convince someone from the other side to flip at the vote! but realistically, it will be hard and you never know what some people may have up their sleeve. *cough cough* raffy *cough cough*. This game is so mentally stressing, but I love it!

Anastasia

We won the competition thanks to Elle's really good drawing skills. I have a feeling merge is coming up so me and my alliance are making plans for majority. We know that if we have Madi and Gian, all we need is one more person and we have majority. So, we just need to persuade someone to join us before it's too late. I am thinking that we could recruit Moth or Elle (or both) but they could still be loyal to the warriors. Plus we voted their fellow warrior out... So I don't know what they would do. What if I just threw the idea out to both of them? I think I have nothing to lose? AHHH maybe I do have something to lose because I cant like expose our plans.

Moth

The tea is... I have no clue what’s gonna happen after tonight, I’m not sure anyone does but I feel like I definitely would have been voted out had we not won this challenge —

Nicholas

We finally are going to tribal! I’m a little nervous but hopefully the plan to vote out Ginny works. I’ve been using Ginny this whole game with the trading gear back and forth and etc. I think I’m the only person Ginny talks to. I got Ginny who was already people’s target to make herself even more of a target by throwing out lots of names. I also tested people by having Ginny tell them to vote me. Steven and Raffy immediately messaged me and Gian told me only after I was talking to him but that’s probably because he didn’t care what Ginny was saying. Hopefully Ginny doesn’t blow up and call me out at tribal when she starts getting votes.

Steven

https://youtu.be/nLX0HYo7dh4

[goldenscript]

badboy!wooseok

meet jung wooseok, apparently music major extraordinaire with hella tats and a rep for being a badboy

but you personally know him at that lowkey annoying kid who’s Always falling asleep n coming in late in ur creative writing class

y’all met that first day when he wandered in and he just tapped ur shoulder mid-exercise to ask what was goin’ on n although u could’ve been a jerk n not said anything u threw the kid a bone n somehow his piece still surpassed everyone else’s a few days afterwards

ofc you get it. it’s college so being tired from classes and prolly work is what’s getting him but the little green monster on ur shoulder doesn’t relent bc this is where u learn time management and well

you see you love creative writing - you live, breathe, and think it a lot and it’s ur major so why wouldn’t u enjoy the one class that actually specializes in ur own interest???? and you work rlly gosh diddly darn to do it too bc writing really isn’t that easy

you’re one of those people that takes ages to get a piece out but bc this is a creative writing class you have weekly assignments and some pieces are hits n some are misses but u deal with it bc part of it is for the grade and another part of it is trying to get more experience in the field

anyway, unlike u, wooseok doesn’t seem to rlly try,,, that hard,,, or rlly,,, at,, all n that’s what ticks u off

ur the the kind of person who not just hates slackers, u abhor them n u suppose he tries rlly hard with his major since who wouldn’t??? but he doesn’t w/ urs n when ur teacher an english TA named Hui was talking to him abt writing before class he said it was soOoOOOo easy n u were p resolved to disliking the kid immediately

u just find ur seat near the back with the 30+ students n out of all the ppl to sit by,,,, he sits by u n u jst don’t try to think abt how much u dislike him n his dumb face tht’s starting to fall asleep AGAIN

but ok u sneak a small peek n u have to admit,,,, he’s actually pretty cute like u kno that he seemed p intimidating when u first saw him bc at first glance he’s this flippin’ hulking giant at like 6′2″ with tats up to his neck and sleeve u only get a peek of bc he’s enveloped in a huge jacket 99.9% of the time n he usually has furrowed brows n his lips pulled into a straight line unless he’s talking to hui or some other dude in his large ass group of friends bUT

the peaceful look on his face is different than those times n u kinda make a mental note of it even tho u most certainly are Not comparing his eyelashes to fluttering dark angel wings or his peaceful face to something akin to a statue in a museum

nope

no u r not

n- ok fine maybe a little 

bUT it was part of the warm up assignment to write a snippet of literally anything n he struck ur mind in that split moment n now ur back to aiming a well needed elbow to his side bc hui scanning the aisles for a potential victim to share their piece as he usually does n although u dislike wooseok ur not that spiteful

and right as hui picks on someone right beside u two, wooseok wakes up n looks at you with this really grateful n apologetic look tht u whisper the instructions to him bc gdi ur a good person

he may fall asleep n sometimes comes in late or not at all but u won’t let him fall behind so long as u can help it bc green monster aside ur conscience would hate u

anywayyyyy this particular day is only a little different bc it’s become one of those days where 6 PM is when the sun goes down and it’s pretty dark n not many students are on campus bc hello no one likes being on campus at night,,,,, save for the few kids who have like bio or math discussion then that’s a blessing bc campus rush hour is no joke n u once almost saw ur life flash before ur eyes bc of a bicyclist

u prepared for the coming of night bc ur residence hall isn’t that far off n most of ur friends are at their dorms or beelining across campus so it’s a solo job, n so u’ve estimated abt 20 minutes walking n 15 minutes speedwalking,,, 10 if u jog but ur plan is to speedwalk bc ur bag is heavy with books from ur other classes so no thnx

the moment ur released from class u start making a beeline out of there bc once ur out it’s a hell of a lot darker than u thought and apparently the streetlamps aren’t as bright as u hoped but regardless u try to trek thru the campus as best as u can n preferably near the convenience store since it’s usually open 24 hours and u’d have a place to run into in case someone tried attacking u

but well things kinda go according to plan but not really

u make it prolly halfway before u see this dude just loitering around by the benches near the dark buildings n u try to walk a little faster bc u r Not trying to deal with that tonight 

“hey where you goin’!” he says outta nowhere n u feel urself tense up just a bit

but ofc u look around hoping there’s someone else around n it isn’t just u but it is so u just nervously laugh, “oh yeah haha! just goin’ to the store y’know” bc the bright lights are just up ahead n if he lets u go then u can stay there n hopefully nag one of ur friends to come pick u up if he just doesn’t leave

n he’s just looking at u with feigned disappointment n goes “aw how ‘bout u just stay with me?” n he even dares coming closer

ofc ur ready to peel out of there but another part of u is pretty freakin’ scared bc oFC something just had to happen the first night n ur literal worst fear no less

you just shake ur head like “o no! my roommate’s waiting for me up ahead, y’know so i better get going,,,,,” n you’re already walking a little past him when he just takes a few steps and starts walking alongside u

“aw c’mon!!!! i can show u a real fun time hun. forget ur roommate”

“but-”

“i’m asking nicely, babe don’t make me repeat myself”

the nickname sets u off ur sure n ur just abt ready to tell him off with a glare and everything bc Who Does He Think He Is????? “look dude, i’m not ur babe-”

and then another voice joins right as he’s abt to step towards u n u recognize that husky, just woken up voice anywhere as he says, “take a hint. leave”

you actually look up at surprise bc wooseok gently tugs on ur wrist and puts himself between u and the creepy dude

u suppose the sight of wooseok is enough to scare him off bc right as the creep is abt to tell him off he catches one sight of wooseok and his eyes go so wide he just peels outs bc the look on his face is just screaming: “nope no way noooooooooooooo heck n o“

wooseok's so sweet like "are u ok???" bc unbeknownst to u, u’ve actually been shaking since that guy got so close and u can only manage a small nod but his features are a devoid of that furrowed brows and deep scowl with that dude

in fact his eyes are so soft under the orange lighting and he actually looks really worried bc ur fists are balled n u can’t seem to stop shaking so he goes “c’mon i’ll get u something to warm u up” n u just nod bc as scared as u were u actually feel a lot safer with wooseok there

like he even places his really large black denim jacket over ur shoulders n u feel urself shiver a lot less

so he takes u to the convenience store u were trying to make it to n it turns out his friend yanan works there

yanan’s a really handsome boy with a cast on his arm and his eyes seem to light up at the sight of u and wooseok but he doesn’t say a word bc of the look on ur face n the one on woo’s but he does flash u a friendly smile bc u look like u need it

wooseok gets the two of free hot cocoa n he tells yanan that he’ll pay him back for the drinks n that he’ll be back after he takes u to ur dorm n yanan says something like “i’ll add it onto ur tab” before u two go n wooseok’s reaction is a lil’ stiff n that has u like ??? but u don’t press bc u just want to go to ur dorm and shower and just not think abt what happened

although u aren’t talking, wooseok’s actually trying to make an effort and talk to u. mostly abt little things n he even gives u an analysis of the rlly rlly confusing piece u guys had to do n when he started mentioning what the blue curtains meant u couldn’t help but laugh bc it was silly n it didn’t really mean anything but u can tell he’s trying to make the mood much lighter n he breaks out into this shy smile n goes

“so that what it took to get u to smile huh?” 

n u don’t say anything but a thank u bc the half-empty hot cocoa in hand n the walk back to ur dorm makes u feel better times infinity

he kinda just nods n says “yeah,,,, anytime u need someone to walk home with, i gotchu” n u want to tell him that it’s ok but he looks really serious as he says it so decide to nod

“really, thank you wooseok” you tell him right as ur in front of ur building n he just nods a little awkwardly which is still pretty endearing on him even tho it’s not quite what u expected of this supposed badboy

n he’s like “o well, um,, here.” and just grabs a pen from his bag n grabs a hold of ur free hand n scrawl his number on it n says “the next time y’know u need an escort,,, u can,,, erm,,, call or,, text me,,,” before he’s kinda really red in the face and stumbles his way back to the convenience store

when u get inside n the hot cocoa all’s done n gone n ur scrubbed clean of the day’s grime, u just kinda reflect to urself n decide that wooseok really isn’t that bad after all like u don’t see him as that annoying kid quite so much

now u see that he’s more or less tired from helping at that store n his analysis of the reading was pretty spot on n u just,,, well,, u feel warm and safe at the thought of him

even as u stare at his number still kinda decorated on ur skin, u can’t help but smile at his rosy cheeks

the following day u,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,do not text wooseok

mostly of out fear bc u have no flipping clue what to say so when u see him in class on thursday he actually looks a little pouty w/ hui until he sees u walk in n u actually take a seat by his bag (tho u reason that it’s bc u usually sit there anyway)

as promised he walks u to ur dorm after class n u two actually talk together this time n it becomes a tradition to do that every tuesday and thursday

u begin to see more to him than he lets on in all that time like how he really adores his jacket bc his grandma bought it for him or how he actually plays the guitar and the drums bc at first he thought they were just cool but then he saw his fave band live n wanted to be like them (fun fact: it was cnblue) and the violin like he was good enough to win a prize and everything!

u also see how horribly misrepresented he is bc u hear from a few ppl how he’s no good, he’s a liar, n he’s eaten a live duck once n all that ridiculous stuff but u kno the truth bc he’s actually very truthful n bright n it actually makes u a lil mad that people would talk abt him like that

even more so when u hear some people talk abt how reckless he is n u tell him abt it bc you think he deserves to kno that there are bad things going on abt him but he kinda,,, just,,, brushes it off which leave u very ?? bc that is not the boy you’ve gotten to know n it’s certainly not the one that saved u either n u say so

n he actually looks like he wants to say something but he hesistates so u say “look whatever u did or do, you can tell me wooseok. i’m not gonna think differently of u. i know you’re a good guy”

he just sighs and says “but i’m really not,,, like i’m reckless and no good like that said,,,,”

but you’re absolutely certain that he is dead wrong n so are they so you just tell him to tell u why they’re saying those things n he admits to u that the reason why his friend yanan has an arm cast is bc of him

they had been sneaking into old abandoned buildings as hang out spots just cuz there were tons of unused places in the city n this particular one was near a construction place tht had patrols come by from time to time n this wasn’t any different but the boys didn’t know esp wooseok since he was the one who chose the spot and reassured everyone that it would be fine so when patrols came n they had to peel out everyone mostly made it except yanan who slipped and fell by the nearby construction 

woo ran back over to help him out n they were mostly safe from the cops but the fall yanan made his arm bend funny so they had to take a hospital trip and ever since then wooseok has felt like crap and has been doing his best to make it up to his friend thru helping at the store n getting him to class even if it means he misses a few of his own bc it’s his fault n everyone else knows it

ofc u feel bad bc wooseok looks so dejected abt it n the only comfort u can offer him as his friend is ur support and ur reassurance that even tho he caused that to happen it doesn’t make him a bad person at all so u feel really frustrated n he notices,,, even looks at u in surprise like ???

“w-what’s wrong? why are you upset?”

so u quickly say like “!!! bc ur so kind wooseok! i know u keep saying ur a bad guy n those rumors ppl say r tru but u are so so so so unbelievably kind and sweet and even if no one else likes u then just know that i do ok????????” 

while he’s just in shock, you continue with reddened cheeks and a resolve not to stop, “p-plus, there’s no need to be so harsh on yourself! so what if u skip class -actually not a so what you should definitely go to class pls ur paying to be here- but what i mean is that things like skipping or looking scary doesn’t mean ur a bad guy n no matter what people say i think you’re a good guy and and and your friends do too and i wish u could see that! i wish i could show u somehow and god i don’t know i just--”

and ok you look so adorable mid-spiel and flustered and even though ur attempts to articulate are beginning to fall short, wooseok can’t help but go thru with his impulses like always and just,,, kiss u before he pulls back ready to apologize but you pull him back in and u just kiss him ok 

bc in all that time u spent together and in ur own upset, u realized u really really really flippin’ liked this boy and there was no other way you’d be this worked up over just anybody n with his lips against urs u just feel ur heart going even !!!!!!!!!! louder than ever 

you pull back n say with a small smile “if u ever need reassurance then y’know,,,, i’m happy to give that to u ok?” 

and he just has this goofy grin on his lips like “is this how you’ll reassure me?” and u nod and he just,,, pulls u into his arms n u both fall back onto ur bed just kinda looking at each other in this really soft light bc tbh he’s always had a crush on u since the start of ur class n some of those things like falling asleep and saying writing was easy was just his way of trying to get ur attention n to think he really did in the way he did makes him very happy esp knowing that u feel safe with him

and with you, finally coming to terms with the cold, hard truth that u indeed liked him too is nice bc the warmth and safety of his arms and being able to offer support and some sort of protection to him is all u ever really wanted to do - it happened so slowly and gradually but u have no regrets at all

also, lemme just say that the nine other boys in wooseok’s life absolutely adore u as they all kinda race to meet u bc you’re really all he ever talks abt next to yongwa n they find the two of u super adorable!!! 

it’s actually an easy transition for the two of u to go from friends to s/o’s too bc you two have always been pretty touchy-feely in a really casual way and now you both have even more excuses to hang out and work on stories together or sometimes u go to his dorm just to hear him play his guitar even as yuto’s trying to study for his compsci test or how jinho n hongseok invite u to dinner with the group just so everyone else can watch u and wooseok be really adorable n really just being together is just,,, so nice?? 

like as friends u always had urges to reach out and hold his hand or kiss his cheek or even hug him really tight and now u can do those things! and even he would have moments where he just wanted to give u lots of back hugs and spinning hugs and just hugs and forehead kisses but he couldn’t so moving on from friendship and being able to do intimate gestures became a rlly fun pastime for you two!

and now whenever u hear anyone whispering abt wooseok or giving you funny looks, you actually throw a few responses at them in his defense and sometimes he has to drag u away bc u can get awfully scary when you’re mad and he just calms you with his tight hugs and he’ll get hot cocoa with u and you two will just walk beneath the stars n it’s just,,, 

it’s nice being able to feel safe with your s/o and that’s what makes the two of you very content bc no matter what you’re each other’s rocks <3

[tb5-heavenward]

flight hours

5

continuing from part 4, everything is fine and dandy. in better news, i’ve finally written up to the 53 words that I had in mind when I started this thing. they’ll be the start of chapter 6.

Shields are right at thirty-percent, and he can take maybe three or four more hits before electrical interference starts to damage flight-critical systems—but Scott isn’t about to mention this to his brother, in case it prompts John to do something incredibly stupid. Again.

In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have collared John into this job. He probably should’ve let John fly back to Tracy Island. He’d feel much, much better about this whole situation if John were managing it from afar instead of right in the middle of it, with his exosuit and his misplaced confidence and his highly, highly illegal weaponized EMF generator. Beyond that, if John weren’t here, Scott could just push his engines to full throttle, leave the cluster of drones behind, and hightail it back to the island. If he leaves now, he risks the swarm scanning the skies and retargeting his brother, who won’t be able to handle a dozen drones actively on the attack, no matter what he thinks. It’s taking all of Scott’s attention to keep himself flying, and he doesn’t know how the hell they’re going to get out of this mess.

In between everything else he’s got to worry about, Scott manages to find a few spare moments to be furious about the fact that they’re in this mess in the first place.

There’s probably a lesson they should’ve learned by now about walking (flying/diving) into traps. They should all probably be taking steps to be more careful, to look at situations like this with a baseline of suspicion, prudence. It’s terrifying and unfair to think that there’s someone in the world who would use their profession against them; would turn their desire to save lives into a way to lure them into harm. In retrospect, so many aspects of the whole scenario seem like red flags, and they’re exactly the sort of red flags that John usually looks out for.

But this is hardly the time for hindsight. Scott just has to hope that his brother is as good at thinking on the fly as he is at thinking on his feet. He’s given John a solid half a minute to think, and he’s about to bark over the open channel for his brother to give him some options, when he hears a faint huff of breath, a frustrated sigh. And then John says something Scott doesn’t want to hear.

“…Scott, I really don’t see a way out of this that doesn’t require disabling that swarm. You’re gonna need to bring them to me, or break off and let them find me themselves.”

That’s not happening. Another shot lands against his hull, the dampening shield flickers and his display drops it to twenty-six percent. “Negative. You shouldn’t even be here—”

“You’d be dead if I wasn’t. There weren’t supposed to be two of us. We weren’t supposed to be armed. Clearly you were expected to get aboard that cargo jet and get caught in the cockpit while it dive bombed, and then without you actively flying it, Thunderbird One was supposed to go down. It would’ve gone down. We can get out of this, but you have to work with me. I can do this.”

There’s irony in the fact that Scott had thought a rescue would be a good way to stop having a stupid argument with his brother. They’re still arguing about whether John’s a good enough pilot, only now the stakes have changed. Now the stakes may actually be life and death. And Scott shakes his head, though John can’t see him. “Your shielding—”

“Will be in a better state than yours, in a minute here.”

“Only takes one to kill you.”

“There are twelve trying to kill you.”

“I can—”

“You can’t handle this alone!” John’s voice cuts him off sharply, gains an edge of sternness it hasn’t had before now, the same that Scott’s been trying to use to bring his brother up short. Desperation bleeds over into the warning, as he continues, “This was a trap, meant to kill you and take down TB1. If you go down, they’ll head for me anyway. You have to let me help, or—”

Scott doesn’t hear the rest of it, or maybe the blinding flash of plasmic blue in the skies overhead cuts John off. A particularly well timed strike brings twenty-six percent down to a bare twenty. Alarms start to blare, bathing the interior of Scott’s cockpit in bloody red emergency lighting.

And it just reinforces the fact that John’s right.

Scott exhales, hard, and his hands tighten slightly on the controls. He accelerates, trailing the swarm along behind him, as he starts to prepare to bring his ship back around, towards his brother. The sweat on his palms is wicked away immediately by the fabric of his gloves, but the clammy, anxious feeling remains. “…Okay, John. Coming to you. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

Basically, John needs his brother to thread a needle with his Thunderbird at about three hundred miles an hour.

“I need you to make a pass at your lowest possible speed, while I channel an EM field for you to fly through.”

It’s a little known fact about Thunderbird One—not that there are any widely known facts about Thunderbird One—that it’s actually harder on its engines to go slow than it is to go fast. Of course, this references a scale at which “slow” is anything under Mach 1, and “fast” is sustained flight at Mach 20, fast enough to circumnavigate the globe in two hours flat. TB1 is, after all, designed to push that upper limit, not to linger at the lower border of what’s achievable by commercial aircraft. If Scott goes too slow, his engines risk stalling. If Scott wants to leave TB1 hovering stationary in midair, he has to turn his engines off entirely, and rely on a suite of thrusters designed to keep the ship in the air.

There’s an inverse relationship between the size of the field that John’s EMF device can generate, versus its duration. It leaves them with two options. “I can give you a hundred meter field for three seconds, or a thirty meter field for ten. You’ll burn the last of your shielding on the way through, but if they stay in formation on your tail, it’ll take the swarm out with it.”

There’s math to be done here, but not the sort of math that’s done with numbers. It’s the sort of math that’s done by feel, pure instinct. Scott doesn’t need to do the math to know how close he can safely fly his ship, and he makes that call almost immediately, “Gotta be a hundred. I’m not flying within fifteen meters of you, the turbulence will be more than you can handle”

John’s less worried about that than he is about the timing. Three seconds isn’t much time. “It’s not much of a window.”

“Not your problem. You just open it when I tell you to. I’m coming back around, get ready.”

“FAB.”

So that’s that, decided. They’re doing it, and now John needs to get himself in position. He’s just thankful that Scott trusts him enough to help.

Whether he realizes it or not, it’s lucky he’s had eight hours of practice. John hasn’t had time since they first deployed from island airspace to switch out of thinking like he’s flying, the muscle memory of the suit’s controls remains fresh. He’s thinking too hard and concentrating too closely on what needs to happen next to second-guess himself, as far as the positioning of his ailerons or whatever else. In the briefest possible moment of distraction, John remembers the cargo plane and glances earthward towards where he remembers seeing it last. It’s still falling, trailing a corkscrew spiral of smoke downward towards the tops of the clouds below. It’s only been a few minutes since this whole ordeal started. Less than a quarter of an hour ago, Scott was nagging him to get back in the air and back to training. Kayo’s probably about seven minutes distant, but up here that may as well be an eternity. If John’s learned anything today (and if he’s honest, he’s learned plenty), it’s that time passes strangely in the sky.

And that the world is surreal, hovering at seventy thousand feet.

They’re high enough that the curve of the Earth is apparent, and far below are the fleecy, undulating clouds of a mackerel sky, marred only by the helix of smoke from the back of the cargo jet. At this height, the divisions of the atmosphere are visible, the aura of sunlight throught the stratosphere like a halo around the Earth, stretching up into the darkness of the mesosphere, then the thermosphere beyond. It’s strange and otherworldly, even by John’s standards, and for living his life well outside the Earth’s atmosphere, there’s something about the presence of gravity that changes absolutely everything.

It seems obvious, in hindsight. He probably owes Scott an apology.

Later, though.

Static hisses in his ear, and then Scott’s voice, firm and decisive, “Coming around for final approach now. Fire on my mark.”

“FAB.”

It’s a simple plan, which are the best kind, in John’s experience. He dials in the appropriate calibration for the EMF generator, and the pad of his thumb ghosts the trigger, waiting.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

“Mark.”

John immediately squeezes the trigger for the EMF generator, and the field radiates out from the source. He feels the peculiar, untranslatable sensation of his exosuit’s extant shields, as they cancel it out. It’s going to work, there’s no reason it wouldn’t. There’s nothing in the skies against which he can gauge relative speed or distance, and time seems to slow as he watches TB1 on approach. Even at his lowest speed, Scott’s moving fast enough that John feels him pass overhead rather than sees him, the disturbance of his passage enough to buffet him downward through the air, but not before he compensates with his thrusters, and stays level.

The swarm of drones has stayed tight to Scott’s tail, exactly according to plan, and even as the three seconds pass and the EMF field peters out, John can see they’re already falling, tumbling uselessly out of the sky around him; eight, nine, ten, eleven—the sudden spark of triumph ignites another giddy rush of adrenaline, and it’s impossible to suppress a slightly hysterical laugh over the comm channel, at the closeness of the call, even as he turns in midair, watching his brother coming back around.

It’s come off almost without a hitch.

But the hitch in question is one single drone, slightly different to the others, not a part of the AI hivemind. Configured for direct, remote control, and piloted by someone clever enough to have seen the shape of a trap, and to have known how to turn it back to his own advantage.

When the last mech comes careening out of the sky, John doesn’t know what’s hit him. But it tears an entire wing off his suit, and discharges the last of its energy into a bright, plasma blue bolt.

And like Scott said, it only takes one.

don’t worry, it continues >>

[queenzufufu]

Youngsters (10/?)

Summary: For the kids at The Rooster Teeth care home, life hasn’t always been easy. They’ve come from broken homes, broken families. They’ve escaped with broken bones and broken spirits. But at least now they have a second chance to be happy with a real family.

Well… that’s easier said than done when your family includes a hyperactive midget, an overeager wrestling fanatic and a boy who just can’t go a day without punching something… or someone.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 AO3

“You really want me to spell it out?” - Kovic

“You hear any more bumps in the night last night?” James asked as they strolled out across the wide, open field.

“No. Just you, getting up to go to the bathroom.”

James grinned, giving Adam a shoulder check. “What d’you think happened? Found out anything interesting?”

Adam shrugged, unconcerned. “Lawrence punched something. Nothing else to know.” None of the kids had officially been told anything, but James and Adam had both awoken at the sound of a loud noise and raised voices in the middle of that Saturday night, and the next day the always angry boy had been sporting a newly bandaged hand.

“You’ve gotta start asking more questions,” James insisted, skipping and jumping alongside Adam - he always had to add that little bit of extra energy to any activity, even simply walking in a field. “You ask more questions you gain more knowledge. And knowledge is power,” he said, nodding sagely. “Knowledge is power.”

Adam pulled a face. “Guess I’ll stay dumb then,” he drawled.

“Aren’t you even a little bit interested?”

“Not really. I’ve got enough in my own life to worry about, I don’t need to get involved with others unless I need to.”

“How is the little guy?” James asked at the mention of Adam’s own life. It was always weird, Adam thought. Sometimes he felt like he was leading a double life. He had his one family, his Rooster Teeth family - where he spent the majority of his time and whose members he saw and interacted with the most often - and also his own family, one none of the others had even ever met - a mom and a brother he only saw once in a while under supervised meetings. One a place that represented safety and structure and warmth. The other a reminder of what his life had once been.

He shook himself as he realized James was still waiting for an answer. “Not so little anymore,” he said, referring to his younger brother, who had turned six a few months back. “He’s hoping to get a puppy for Christmas, wouldn’t be surprised if he did, they spoil him so much.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. As long as he doesn’t grow up to be a brat.”

“With you as his brother? How could he not?”

Adam rolled his eyes. He did feel strange at times, a lot less now than he used to, but still strange all the same. For so long he’d had the responsibility of looking after his kid brother, of trying to protect him and make sure he had enough to eat and good enough clothes and that he completed his homework on time. When they’d been taken into care, he had not only been expected to, but also forced to give up all that responsibility, to put his trust in a stranger to do a job he’d been doing for years.

These strangers, however, were no longer quite so strange. Adam had met them a number of times and his brother absolutely adored them. At the end of the day, he supposed that was the main thing that mattered, that the kid was happy, not that Adam would sometimes get jealous when he realized just how much better care his brother was under compared to the days Adam had tried to raise him.

“You were just a kid, Kovic,” James would always tell him when he was in one of his gloomy moods. “Nobody expects a kid to raise another kid, but you did, anyway.” Adam knew he was right, and that he should be and was beyond grateful that he and his brother were both safe and happy. Separated. That was the only thing that sucked. Now they were only family in the blood sense. If the other family lived close maybe they could see each other more often, but they didn’t, and they were often busy, so the contact they were required to have once a week was usually all he got. And what’s worse - Adam often felt he was the only one who seemed upset about that. His little brother was fine with it.

Then he would tell himself to stop being so selfish. Not one of the others got to meet up with their family so often - or had such a healthy relationship with them. James for example, walking - or skipping - along beside him. What was his last memory of his parents? Them shoving him into another stranger's home to be, for all intensive purposes, their hostage, while his parents committed their crimes. Even if he did have visitation with them, which he didn’t, they were in a prison far, far away, Adam knew he would never go. There weren’t many kids with a hatred as strong as James’ for his parents. The same hatred that could consume and devour him like a wildfire alighting at the smallest, seemingly insignificant spark.

James was happy today. He’d been in a good mood for a while, was on a nice streak of cheery days filled with laughs and joy. Adam was over the moon as it lasted, but there was always a little voice in the back of his head, reminding him that one day it would be over, that there would be some incident that would cause James to blow up, to become the boy Adam could barely recognise and James could barely understand.

But now he was happy, that’s what mattered. That he was happy right at that moment. No need to worry about the future when it hadn’t happened yet. In fact, he was extra excitable because of what he was taking Adam to go and do.

They were in a large park, one that separated the elementary and middle school. If you were driving with no traffic it would take about five minutes, but as the crow flies, they were basically next to each other, only split by the park itself. It was lunch and a lot of the kids were out. It was often the only way friends from the different schools, like James and Adam themselves, would get to meet up during the school day, if you were a trustworthy, well-behaved student, as well as being old enough, of course.

Each school only had one entrance directly into the park and it was kept under heavy guard during breaks by teachers who had a strict list of who was allowed out. Obviously, if a kid really wanted out, it was possible to simply scale the wall to the other side, but James and Adam always found it much easier to just be good students, rather than deal with the trouble that would cause them.

So here they were, both dressed warmly as they fought against the oncoming wind. They’d sat and had lunch already, which had been when James had brought up his other plans for that break, one which he insisted Adam take part in.

Adam had listened, amused and gratified. “Sure,” he’d said. “Why not? It’s always why not with you, isn’t it?”

The guy they were meeting up with was a teacher of James’ who the older boy had struck up a bond with at the start of the school year. Mr. Cole was head of physical education, an ex-army officer who shared James’ passion for wrestling and any sort of physical activity in general. And today they were going to be learning a little something James said was called Tai Chi. Adam had said it sounded like something Barbara would put in her tea. James said it was the coolest thing in the world, after wrestling, of course.

“There’s Mr. Cole!” James said excitedly, halting and bouncing on the spot, pointing across the park. “He’s by the trees!”

Adam raised his head, squinting, and saw a man standing in a more sheltered area. “He’s big.”

James snorted, raising an eyebrow at him, like he wasn’t sure what point Adam was trying to make. “Well done,” he said to the younger boy, the sarcasm heavy.

“I mean,” Adam clarified. “He doesn’t look like he’d be a teacher.”

“Nah… guess that’s why everyone likes him,” James speculated as they grew closer to the teacher. A grin came to his face then, wide and genuine, when he turned and looked past Adam, back the way they came. “And there’s our other participant. Right on time.”

Adam swiveled, his own face breaking into a surprised grin.

“Hey?” he mumbled in slight confusion under his breath.

It was Elyse, looking slightly nervous as Adam was learning was her natural state in most public places, walking and constantly looking around. She perked up when she spotted the two though, quickening her pace to a light jog as she eagerly moved to join them.

Adam turned back to James, intrigued. “You invited her here? To our special bro time?” He used the term jokingly, as he always did to mock the way James always described anything they did together.

“Yeah,” James glanced at him quizzically. “Is that wrong?”

“Nope,” Adam stuck out his lower lip, pulling a nonchalant face. “Not at all.” James and Elyse seemed to be spending a lot of time together recently. Adam didn’t mind, they always came back from wherever they were laughing and shared inside jokes with each other during dinner later, whispering and giggling.

“Hey, James!” Elyse greeted as she caught up with them. “Hello again,” she said to Adam, who she’d seen when she came into their class to get a chair after her one had apparently broken when she sat on it. Adam had laughed so hard only to discover, after Elyse had left, that she’d kindly drawn a big smiley face in red pen over his completed math work.

A girl not to be messed with, Adam reminded himself.

They shared a brief conversation as they walked together the rest of the way to Mr. Cole. Now they were closer, Adam could see the teacher must have dragged out four school training mats and laid them out across the ground. Or he’d just carried them all on one finger because really, the guy was that huge. He’d have been intimidating were it not for the gentle expression on his face and grin when James started talking to him excitedly, explaining that “these two are my foster siblings I’ve been telling you about!”.

Once introductions had been made, the teacher took his place on his mat, facing the other three, and instructed them to take their places.

Adam shrugged off his worn backpack and dropped it in the grass, off the mat. He toed off his dirty sneakers, looking at Mr. Cole, bowed in his perfunctory, just-enough-to-be-respectful way, and moved to where James and Elyse were already kneeling.

James settled down when Adam knelt beside him. "This is so awesome."

"Jesus, James, calm down, you idiot.”

"Adam." Mr. Cole looked down at him.

Adam bent his head, hiding a smirk. "Sorry, Sir."

Mr. Cole regarded him. "Very well. Now that we're all here, the lesson can begin."

"Wait 'til you see what he's going to teach us! It's so cool! Mr. Cole showed us already in our classes, and-"

"James."

James grinned up at Mr. Cole. Mr Cole maintained a frown, though he seemed to struggle. Adam could tell the teacher was genuinely really fond of his student. "Perhaps James would demonstrate again."

James lit up and jumped to his feet, moving up to join Mr. Cole in front of the other two. He bowed to Mr. Cole deeply, grinning.

The teacher returned the bow, if not the smile. Elyse let out a quiet “woop” and James’ grin widened even further as he nodded to her, which Adam hadn’t thought was possible. It made his own heart feel warmer. It was good to see James’ spirits as light as they ever had been. Having Elyse join their home was good for him, he suspected. Good for all of them. Having a person around so positive and nice and caring - not that the others weren’t, it was just Elyse seemed to take it to another level.

James drew a deep breath and Adam watched the concentration screw his face up. He shifted his feet a few more inches apart, squared his shoulders, shifted his spine. Mr. Cole waited, and a slight imperfection in James’ centering corrected itself until he stood perfectly, the way he'd been taught.

Adam watched with pride. Always a perfectionist, his James.

The teacher turned his eyes to the other two. "Any guess what he's doing? James, please don't answer."

Adam shrugged. "He's standing there."

"He's balancing weird," Elyse noticed.

Mr. Cole smiled. "Very good. Adam, stand."

Adam jumped to his feet, bouncing light on his toes.

The teacher gestured to James. "Kindly knock him over."

"Yes!" James grinned at the two other kids and rubbed his hands together. "Ready, Kovic?”

Adam smiled through his uncertainty. “Yeah."

“Come and get me then!”

Adam charged him.

Elyse took note during the demonstration. When Adam came at James she watched in surprise. When he slammed into him and bounced off, and James didn't move a muscle, their mouths dropped open.

Mr. Cole smiled to himself. "Adam?"

"I'm okay!" Adam jumped back to his feet. "Awesome, James."

James grinned and relaxed.

"I don't get it."

Mr. Cole turned to Elyse. "Proper balance is of more than aesthetic importance."

"What's that mean?"

"It means it's more than just looking good," James explained as he and Adam took their spots kneeling in front of the teacher again.

Mr. Cole nodded. "By centering yourself perfectly, rooting your balance into the very ground, you can become an entirely unmovable object. Like you just saw, any attacker attempting to knock you off balance would do just as well going against a brick wall."

"That's impossible." Elyse regarded the teacher, wide-eyed with the nervousness Adam imagined she always got when she questioned any teachers teachings.

Mr. Cole only smiled, though. "James? Perhaps Elyse would like to try."

James jumped to his feet again readily, beaming his pride in his accomplishment.

Elyse stood in front of him and tried pushing with her hands. After a few unsuccessful attempts, she butted her shoulder carefully against James’ chest. Then she stood back and regarded him.

Elyse ran at James and tackled him like a football player trying to down another, similar to how she had done when James had annoyed her that one time.

This time however, a few moments later, it was Elyse picking herself up off the ground, gaping at James.

James was practically glowing.

Mr Cole set about instructing them, teaching how to position their feet, how to figure out the right center for them. Of course, no lesson like that was learned in a day, and by the end of the forty minutes there were two frustrated kids still knocking each other down easily.

The teacher dismissed them with a smile. "Remember, any lesson that can be taught in a single class is hardly worth knowing at all. We can continue this another time."

The four of them bowed - with varying degrees of respect - and Adam turned to Elyse. "My brother rules!"

James grinned, pleased. "I've just been working on it for a while,” he said, attempting some humility.

Adam wasn’t sure if it suited him, giving his shoulder a shove. ”Shut up, you're the best.”

“I agree.” Elyse said, standing on her tiptoes to poke her head between the two boys shoulders. “That was so cool!” she gushed, looking up at James.

The boy’s face reddened and his gaze averted. Adam saw the uncertainty in his blue eyes as he moved away, scratching at the back of his head, in a way that people do out of nervousness. “Aww,” he muttered, glancing up at Elyse a few times. “Well… thanks.” He stood their awkwardly, and completely unlike himself for a few seconds before grabbing for his bag and making a hasty exit. “Guess I better get going back to big school before I get locked out and have to climb over. See you guys later.”

Adam and Elyse watched with varying degrees of amusement and curiousness. “Why’s he so embarrassed all of a sudden?” Elyse asked.

Adam paused, and then found suddenly that the answer was on the tip of his tongue, though he’d been just as confused beforehand. “You gave him a compliment.”

“So did you,” Elyse pointed out.

“Yeah… but it’s different,” Adam chuckled, shaking his head a little and turning to walk back to their own school.

After a few paces Elyse hurried to catch up to him. “How?” she asked. He could feel her intrigued gaze on him.

“You really want me to spell it out?” It probably wasn’t right to act like it was so obvious when he himself had only just come to the conclusion, but it was one that made him feel so overjoyed he couldn’t help it. And as he spoke, he confirmed the theory in his own mind, settling on it like a drifting leaf finally come to rest. “He likes you,” he said, trying to hide his smirk.

Elyse opened her mouth, probably to once again say that James liked Adam, but then it clicked, and Adam enjoyed the emotions that ran across her face. Now Adam had seen her happy and annoyed, he’d seen her nervous and mischievous, but this was the first time Elyse seemed flabbergasted. And so he just had to repeat himself, purely for the fun of it.

“He likes you.”

––––

Burnie had received a call that afternoon.

The call had been from a teacher at the middle school they sent the kids to. They had a great relationship with the schools and the staff that worked there. All the teachers were kept well informed about any new children as well as any difficulties they might face in the classroom. In return, they gave Burnie regular check-ups on how all the kids were doing and if there was anything they needed to be concerned about.

Since Lawrence had started at his new school, Burnie had been contacted several times already about things he needed to be concerned about. The first one had been over the issue of a lighter, after Lawrence had revealed the item being kept hidden in his pocket when he threatened to burn another kid’s artwork down. Since then, Burnie had received calls over disruptiveness, disobedience, disappearances and just general disinterest in lessons.

Today had been another fight, one which had sent the boy to the Principal’s office and then to sit in isolation for the rest of the school day. The somber tones of Lawrence’s strained but understanding teacher had informed him that the boy had initiated a fight during lunch, charging at another boy and proceeding to attack him, going at him “like a terrier” had been her words. Fortunately for both boys, nearby staff had been quick to break it up, or rather pull Lawrence kicking and screaming away from the crying boy.

When asked why he’d done what he’d done, Lawrence had apparently been silent, before announcing very clearly - and this was the part that made Burnie’s toes curl - that he thought the Principal was “a fucking cunt”.

Surprisingly that had only earned him a week off school. Burnie wondered if it was because the school pitied them having to look after the boy for that extra time instead.

One glance at the boy’s face and Burnie knew the teacher hadn’t been over-exaggerating. As he walked through the door ten minutes or so after James and Jack, Burnie could see darkening red and purple bruises already formed on the left side of Lawrence’s face, and his chin had been scraped raw by what Burnie assumed had been the concrete ground he’d dived onto.

Despite his best intentions he was unable to keep the tone of despair seeping into his voice as he confronted the boy, hands on hips. “Jesus Christ, what’ve you done now?” It was rhetorical, obviously, but also conveyed his own complete confusion as to what went on in this kid's head.

Lawrence, as always, was armed ready with excuses and counter-attacks, like a workman with his tool belt. “Me?” he protested vehemently. “I ain’t done nothing! Why don’t you ask the fucking asshole who gave me this rather than blaming me all the time?” He pointed to his injuries on his face with his good hand.

Jeez, at this rate they’re gonna think we’re the ones abusing him.

“Lawrence, I’ve spoken to your teacher, she told me what she saw. You ran up to the boy unprovoked, he didn’t even fight back.” He waved a hand in front of the boy’s face. He had no sympathy. In his mind, these actions deserved none. “You got this when you tackled the both of you to the ground.”

The boy paused, his expression slowly forming into a sneer. “Yeah, well it’s not my fault he’s a pussy,” he cackled.

Burnie shook his head at him, exasperated, struggling to keep a level head. “Come to my office.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

Burnie held his arms open. “Am I gonna need to ask for help here?” There were three other trained carers currently in the building who would drag the boy into a locked room if Burnie thought it best.

Lawrence considered this and then sighed loudly, slumping forward, the sly smirk still firmly on his face. “No, I’ll come to your dumb fuckin’ office.”

“What happened then?” Burnie asked as he shut the door.

“What do you think happened?” Lawrence countered, flinging himself onto the couch, settling a steely gaze on Burnie.

“Your teacher said you attacked a boy for no reason. And that he didn’t fight back.”

Lawrence shook his head. “Nuh-uh.”

“So your teacher’s lying?”

“No,” he bristled slightly in his seat. “She’s just seeing what she wants to believe. Culero,” he spat, fingers digging into the arms of the chair. This was as angry as Burnie had ever seen him, the last time had been a few days ago and they both remembered very well how that one had ended. Burnie didn’t want a repeat of that, but if he was honest with himself, he had never felt quite so lost.

Perhaps Lawrence’s anger came from an absence of hope. It certainly seemed as if he had had people in the past making him think he would never be anything. That seemed to be the case with a good many children in the system. There was no hope in them, because no one had any hope for them.

Eleven years old was far too young to be without hope. Burnie spoke accordingly. “Perhaps you might end up in a detention center, and prison might follow, if you keep on with this violent behavior. But Lawrence.” He reached out, put a hand on the small boy’s shoulder. “I think you can be more than that. I think you can prove everyone wrong.”

Lawrence tensed and jerked away from his hand. “I won’t do it by sitting here listenin’ to you talk, will I? Are we done yet?”

Obviously if there were magic words to solve this problem, Burnie hadn’t found them yet. He sighed. “We should try and work something out. There’s still time–”

“I don’t care how much time! I’m done! I’m not fighting with no one who don’t deserve it and I don’t need y’all telling me that I can be a better person or whatever. I don’t even know what I’m doing here! I was meant to be going to that fuckin’ detention center so why don’t you just hurry the fuck up and send me there anyway?”

He stormed off without waiting to be dismissed. Red-faced, furious. Stomping his feet though the thick rugs carried no sound either way.

Burnie dropped his head into his hands. There was something he was missing. It felt like it was staring him right in the face, and yet he was still blind to it, like he needed a special pair of glasses to reveal lights and colors not visible to the naked eye.

What am I missing? The question kept on repeating inside his head, over and over again. What am I missing? What the hell am I missing?

––––

Geoff couldn’t have timed it any better. Literally, the moment he, Bruce and Ryan stepped through the door - having been teasing Ryan about the surprise gift Geoff had got him for his birthday the next day - they heard another one slam shut and saw Lawrence come tearing down the stairs, face red with anger. If he’d been thinking of charging through the front door he changed his mind at the sight of the three eldest boys, and instead turned tail and scarpered down the hallway.

After sharing a glance with Bruce and Ryan, both of whom looked completely unfazed by this point, more like a mixture of “here we go again” and “good luck with that”, Geoff headed off to find the boy, feeling like he needed as much of that luck as possible.

He half expected Lawrence to have vanished into thin air already, but instead found the boy had come to a dead stop, his back facing Geoff as he stood by the sliding glass door that lead outside. He was breathing heavy, fast. Fists were tight balls by his side.

Geoff waited.

Lawrence turned his head a tiny bit to the side, barely looking back at all. Geoff knew he was watching him though, that he was waiting for the slightest reaction to judge whether he should fight or flight.

Geoff nodded his head to the side, inviting Lawrence to come follow him. He wasn’t that taken aback when Lawrence accepted. The eldest he might have been, but at the end of the day, Geoff wasn’t a figure of authority; he had no real power over Lawrence, other than age and height. He was just another foster kid. Maybe Lawrence could do with another foster kid helping him out.

Geoff lead him to the basement door, flicking the light on at the top of the stairs. He took him to where he’d taken many of the others in times of need. Where he and Gavin had been frequenting recently as the skinny boy worked thought the remnants of anger and fear left by his nightmares. The basement was nothing fancy, just some weights and a running machine, as well as a pool table in the corner. What Geoff was usually down there for however, and what he went to at that moment, was the training bags.

Punching the bag was usually a great exercise for the younger and newer kids. All of them loved it. Geoff had loved it when he’d first been shown it by one of the old care workers. Kids who ended up in care, whether happy or sad or angry, were all helpless in their lives. Their future was always uncertain, always out of their control. Or at least that’s what it felt like. Geoff remembered he had jumped at the chance to lash out, to hit at something that gave him the rare feeling of being in control. It had been the same when he’d run away from home – he was finally taking his life into his own hands. He remembered Michael had been the same, and Adam, all of them, even little Jeremy. They’d all been here at one point in time.

But Lawrence didn’t do what Geoff expected. He turned away, wanting nothing to do with the bag when Geoff showed him. Not from any hesitance to use violence – that was more than obvious. Not from lack of anger. Anger seemed to be all that kept the small boy moving.

Geoff tried to encourage the boy to hit the bag. So much could be told from how a kid performed that simple exercise. Gavin had always hit with precision, worrying about footwork and how he held his fists. Too precise and cautious to be violent.

Jack had been fascinated by the process of it. He seemed to take it as a chance to teach himself more about his own body and what he might be capable of.

And James would go one of two ways. Either he would be in his usual cheery mood and he took it as a sport, twirling and crying out like any boy who watched too many kung fu movies, or he was in his rare black moods and simply launched at the bag until one of them surrendered.

It had told Geoff a lot about each of his younger brothers – information he’d often pass onto Burnie and the others. Lawrence’s refusal to even use it was a puzzle that made the boy stand out among more than a handful of equally angry, young kids.

Whatever it was, Geoff was determined to find it out. Burnie had told him outright that Lawrence had been set to going into detention before he came to them. He was too violent. No one had wanted the boy, and children in the state home had feared him. He stole, he lied. He was vicious, it was what his file had said. Here, at Rooster Teeth, this was his last chance.

After many more moments of silence and standing around, Geoff went to a bench in the corner, and beckoned the boy over. Lawrence followed, albeit hesitantly, and perched on the very edge on the far side.

“Why don’t you want to use it?” Geoff asked.

Lawrence just shrugged, braced, like a boy who was used to being hit for refusing older kids what they wanted of him.

“You’ll hit other kids, when you know you’ll be punished. Why not take your anger out on something you’re allowed to give a proper hit?”

Lawrence looked at him with stormy eyes and answered finally in a southern touched accent. “Just cause you’re allowed to hit something don’t mean you should.”

An odd profundity to come from a kid like him, and Geoff was caught by it. “Why do you suppose you shouldn’t?”

“Bag can’t hit back.”

Simple answer, but it suddenly felt like Geoff was looking at a completely different boy.

Lawrence was angry, but though he considered everything a fitting target for his anger he he had just refused to attack something that couldn’t fight back. He understood the injustice of someone beating something just because they could.

It was that moment that deepened Geoff’s certainty that Lawrence hadn’t simply attacked the boy out of the blue. The other kid must have done something, even if it was completely unintentional or trivial to an outsiders eye.

Geoff knew he had to get to the bottom of this.

“Lawrence, you gotta talk to me.”

“I got to? I don’t got to do anything.” The words were there, they always were, but there wasn’t the same kind of fire behind the retort. Instead it was lacklustre, drained, not the sound of a boy who wanted to keep on fighting.

Geoff sighed, small and contained. “You don’t like our furniture here, you’ve made that abundantly clear. Your shelf, I think, shares that dislike.”

“Great, even a piece of wood dislikes me.”

Geoff bit back a smile. “But this could be an alternative,” he said, offering his hand to the punching bag again. “So you get angry, that’s okay, getting angry won’t get you in trouble, but how you focus it will. And before you say you don’t care, I know you do, even if you don’t like to admit it, cause you’re a smart guy.”

Lawrence opened his mouth to retort, but hesitated. “I ain’t so smart.” That was the line that got him. Such, deep, genuine hurt in those words.

Geoff inhaled sharply, lips parting ready to speak but pausing the last second as he mulled over the ways he could work this. “Did this kid say or do something to make you feel dumb?” That felt like a good place to start. Find a reason.

Lawrence lingered a glance up his way, the turmoil in his eyes giving Geoff all the answers to that question, no words needed.

Geoff tried another one. “Did hitting him make it better?”

No answer. Geoff pondered if Lawrence would know the answer anyway.

So he thought some more, and he tried a different angle.

“Did going after that kid solve the original problem? Or is it just the same as before?”

More silence. Geoff was left wondering what to ask instead, almost did, when… “It’s the same.”

“Did this kid cause the problem?”

The dark head shook.

“Is this an old problem?” Geoff asked, voice growing softer by the second.

“Yeah.” Lawrence was still, at the same time looking like he wanted nothing more than to run.

“And it’s one that hurts you a lot?” Geoff probed deeper. “That gets you into trouble and you feel you can’t do anything about it?”

“Yeah,” Lawrence whispered, blinking hard a few times.

Geoff stared at him. Saw how tense and frustrated and upset he seemed. He started putting pieces of the puzzle together. He thought about what he knew about Lawrence’s history, of the homes he had been in and the ages he would have been. He thought back to the times Lawrence had got into trouble or misbehaved in the time he’d lived with him at Rooster Teeth. He thought about the boy’s school misdemeanours, of the classes he caused havoc in. He thought about the past weekend, of what he knew had happened between him and Ryan.

He thought…

And suddenly it clicked. Like a coiled up spring waiting to be let loose, it sprang into his mind with so much force it had him taking a sharp breath in.

It seemed so fucking obvious now. It surprised him none the less, for another kid he might have found it insane it hadn’t been picked up on yet. But this was a kid who had been in a lot of homes, and who was used to hiding and protecting himself with anger and violence. Either way he was going to have to approach this carefully.

“Is it okay if I take a guess at what this problem is?” he asked quietly, hesitantly. “And if I get it right, can you let me know?”

Lawrence swallowed, but eventually nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed, voice stuffed and thick.

Geoff wasted no time. He whispered out an answer. And for the first time he saw some of the layers in the boy’s toughened shell crack open and Geoff instinctively reached out an arm to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder as Lawrence’s fists curled up tightly.

“Don’t touch me,” Lawrence said, but it felt like he only said it because he felt he had to.

“Alright,” Geoff murmured, taking in the sorry form. “It’s okay. I’ll sort this out. It’ll be okay.”

“No it won’t.”

“Yeah,” he assured quietly but surely. “It will.”

––––

Burnie rushed to place a hand up as the door to his office burst open while he was trying to make a phone call. To his surprise it was Geoff who was stood there and he rushed an apology to listen the boy out.

“You need to call Lawrence’s teacher as soon as you can,” Geoff said the moment Burnie was fully listneing.

The man was taken aback, ashamed later to admit he was thinking the boy had done something else that needed reporting. “Huh?”

“You need to call Lawrence’s teacher,” Geoff repeated. "She and all the staff need to know what’s really been going on.” His face softened into something of a half smile, forlorn and full of sympathy. “He can’t read, Burnie.”

[marshmallow-phd]

Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

**

The pencil bounced up and down on the folder lying closed on the table. Several students nearby eyed the noise created by the eraser and metal casing (you had an odd love for a good old fashioned pencil that needed sharpening) but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop, not with all this nervous energy surging through your veins. You really shouldn’t be this nervous. This was only a simple… tutoring session? No, it couldn’t really be classified in that category. He wasn’t going to teach you anything – at least, you didn’t think you would be learning anything in this project. Supervising seemed more appropriate. A direct line in case you were stuck – which, to be honest, you already were. 

When Sungkyu had told you about this extra credit, it had sounded so easy. Even the outline he’d created had been simple. But your usually creative brain had seemingly run dry of the juice that sustained it. Were you finally finding your fatal flaw? Capturing an image, finding the moment in a sea of moments, that was easy for you. Apparently your talent stopped at the ability to apply that skill to anything else. You’d arrived at the library a whole hour early in an effort to have something started by the time Minseok was sitting across from you. But you just couldn’t find the connection between art and math. You weren’t Leonardo Da Vinci. 

“This seat taken?”

Your pencil stopped mid-tap. Face remaining neutral, you looked up. On the other side of the table, Minseok stood casually and waited for an answer. The gray hoodie he’d adorned laid slackly against his torso, hugging his hips where black pants peeked out underneath. One hand held onto the standard backpack hanging off his shoulder while the other was stuffed in his jeans’ front pocket. A sweet, crooked smile stretched across his thin lips. And there your heart went, doing backflips again. With the fear of your voice cracking, you simply gestured to the chair across from you. Nodding, Minseok pulled the plastic seat out from under the table and sat down. “So, how far have you gotten?”

“Not even past the start line,” you admitted. You opened the folder you’d put together for the project to show the pathetic state of your effort. The only scribbles in the margins were from tiny, poorly drawn doodles and some last minutes thoughts from your philosophy class. If someone were to say you were an intelligent person, you would like to agree with them, but this current predicament was making you feel like a fraud. 

Taking the outline out of the folder’s pocket, Minseok scanned over the paper. “You know, art and math are more connected than you think.”

You raised an eyebrow teasingly. “Are you going to give me a lecture on how artists have used math to create measurements in their sculptures or paintings?”

“Well, not anymore.”

You laughed. “I get that there’s a connection. Math makes up everything, right? I just can’t find a real world application between photography and math.”

Minseok pursed his lips to the side, thinking. “Maybe you can use math to help you set up a shot.”

“No,” you shook your head. “Pictures are captured organically. If you think about it too much, it loses its magic.” Pushing yourself up, you leaned across the table. You turned on your camera and angled the display screen so you both could see as you flipped through the pictures from the clearing. A small, appreciative smile crept up on his lips. “Capturing your subject is all about the feeling. It isn’t as easy as doing a math problem and then angling your lens before clicking a button. There’s no heart in that. The focus should be on what’s in front of you.”

“But don’t you adjust the shutter speed and light index and other things to change up the picture to capture what you want?”

You felt like a guppy with your mouth opening and closing as you searched for a response. All your brain could come up with was, “Well… yes….”

“So, you do use numbers in your photography.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

Suddenly, you were Baby put in a corner. 

A non-malicious grin spread across his face. “Just because you don’t realize you’re using the numbers doesn’t mean that you’re not.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the comment. “That sounds an awful lot like a freshman philosophy lecture.”

“Could be. I did only take the one semester for a humanities credit so I could be paraphrasing. But if something stuck then perhaps that’s the one credit that wasn’t a waste of money.”

The laughter coming from you was nonstop. You couldn’t help it. Every little jab and joke he shot off made you feel like you were the only audience member in a comedy club - however, they weren’t gold. The jokes weren’t even that funny. Some of them might not even meant to be jokes. But the bubbly feeling in your stomach pushed its way up and came out before you could fully process his intention. Talking to him was… effortless. And this was barely a conversation. A single warning bell was ringing in the back of your mind. Dangerous territory was near, but you kept walking. Curiosity was a strong attractor.

“So,” Minseok clapped his hands together and folded his fingers, resting his chin on his knuckles. In that single motion, he transformed from the GTA to the optimistic sophomore in his looks. “Can I ask you a question? Besides the one I just did, anyway.” 

You nodded, “Of course.” Anything to keep you from actually having to work on this project. Which, obviously, was very counter intuitive, but you would finish it… eventually. And if you didn’t get too much done today, then that was nearly a guaranteed second session. 

“As a photographer, what would you say is the hardest thing to capture? Like, in a picture?”

You were taken aback. No one had ever asked you that before. You didn’t even think the topic had come up in any of your classes. Different subjects floated through your head as you tried to find the answer to his question. Moving objects was the go-to reply. But some - like human beings - were easy with the tiniest modifications. There was one thing, though, one particular part of nature that you loved but often gave you frustration. “Rain.”

“Rain?”

“Yeah… Catching rain. You can feel it, but you can’t always see it.” You held out your hand, palm towards the ceiling. “The drops could be pouring down from the clouds, hitting your skin, but the camera can’t capture it.”

“So, what do you do then?” He asked with an eagerness, with true attentiveness and interest in your words. It made you sit up. 

“You change your strategy. You slow things down. That’s when it comes out best.”

He nodded slowly. He took in every word you were saying and absorbed it. A warmth spread across your cheeks and you prayed it wasn’t visible to him. Out of nowhere, Minseok cleared his throat and sat back. “Maybe you could use the numbers in the equations.”

You grimaced as you came back to the reason the two of you were here. “That sounds complicated.”

“Okay, then,” he chuckled. “Why not-”

The muddled shrill of a cell phone vibrating against the table. You hadn’t even realized he’d put it there at some point during the conversation. He let out a disappointed sigh as he flipped the device over and checked the identity of the caller. An apologetic look was thrown your way as he answered. “Hello?”

The faint, intelligible voice of another guy echoed through the speaker. Minseok nodded as if the caller could see him.

“Okay. I’ll go now.”

And there was the wave of disappointment. So today was to come to an end already. And you still were no closer to a realization than before. 

Minseok pressed the red button and disconnected the call. The smile that he had on his face earlier morphed into a sadder version. “I have to go.”

“That’s okay,” you reassured him. “Hold that thought for next time.”

A spark flashed in his eyes. Was that a bit flirtatious? How bad was it that you could no longer control the fluctuation in your voice? 

“And when would next time come around?” 

“Saturday?” Eric had to spend the day finishing off the set pieces for the upcoming play. When he was working like that, he could be lost in painting for hours. Getting him on the phone or off the stage would be next to impossible. That seed of guilt was pushing on your stomach again. Hanging out with a guy that made you laugh while your boyfriend was off somewhere else wasn’t a good idea. Maybe you would ask Eric first if he was comfortable with that. If he said no you could always come up with a good excuse to back out. 

“Saturday should work.” In a quick motion, he flipped your folder around and wrote down his number. “Just let me know what time works best for you.” Jumping up from his seat, he threw his bag over his shoulder and started to walk away. But after a few steps, he turned back around. A wide, gum-revealing smile spread across his face as he waved casually. But his smile was anything but casual. In it you saw hope, a possibility of something more. 

I’m in trouble.

You knew it. You knew very well that meeting up with him was going to lead to a terrible predicament. But as he walked away, you’d resigned to follow that rabbit hole anyway. 

Needing a distraction, you hopped up and headed out your own way. There was still another matter you needed to solve and now was the perfect time. With your backpack in the passenger’s seat, you drove out of the parking lot and towards the back roads, taking the same way to the forest you had previously. The wheels of your car matched up almost perfectly with the marks from before. Locking your backpack in the trunk, you pocketed your keys and phone and started hiking. You followed the path to the clearing; your nerves bounced faster and faster the closer you got. 

Immediately, you headed straight for the tree that had been your resting place. The grass was taller in only a few short days. The blades scratched gently at your hands as you pushed the blades aside for a better view of the ground. After circling the area, you had to give up. It wasn’t there. The wolf flashed in your mind. Shaking your head, you ridiculed the idea. The wolf couldn’t have taken your notebook… could it? Certainly if he had there would be remnants of paper still around.

Blowing air through your lips, you sat down at the base of the tree. Now what were you going to do?

A rustling nearby made you jump. Out of the trees, the wolf from before - at least, you assumed it was the same wolf - cautiously came towards you. “Did you take my notebook,” you asked out loud. The wolf pulled back his ears in response. Your eyes widened. “Did you?”

The wolf barked. You had to laugh at yourself. You were having a conversation with a wolf. You felt ridiculous. Again. 

You sighed. “I guess it's just time to face the facts. It’s gone. Eric won’t be too happy with me.”

The wolf growled before coming up next to you and curling up in the grass to your right. He laid his head in your lap. Yes, this was definitely your wolf. What else were you supposed to do if not pet him?

“Eric will just be disappointed,” you said. “Not like, angry or anything. I’ll need to come up with another place to lose it, though. If he found out that I came to the forest by myself, he’d turn red. Especially after-” You froze, your hand hovering over the wolf’s ears. The news of the campers returned to the front of your mind. They were attacked by an animal - a wolf, most likely. Something still told you that it couldn’t have been the wolf currently resting on your legs. How could he be like a puppy with you and vicious towards others?

Noticing your sudden silence, the wolf lifted his head and looked up at you. 

“You didn’t hurt those people, did you?”

The wolf tilted his head to the side. You took that as a good sign. 

Reacting to a sound your own human ears didn’t pick up, the wolf’s ears flicked up as he turned towards the trees. He stood up on his paws and pulled on your sleeve with his teeth so you would do the same. One bark conveyed what he was trying to tell you. “Okay,” you nodded. “I’ll go. But you be careful, too, alright? If there’s something… mean running around here, I don’t want you to get hurt either.”

It still amazed you how this animal could somehow understand you. He reared up on his back paws and placed his front on your chest. You were now looking eye to eye with this giant dog. He gave you a sloppy kiss on your cheek before jumping down and nudging you away. He saw you all the way to the edge of the forest. Disappointment weighed you down as you plopped down in the driver’s seat. And you weren’t sure if it was because of the lost notebook or the wolf you were leaving behind. 

**

Minseok ran through the forest back to the house. This whole “mate pull” was starting to scare him a little bit. He’d been trying to find any clue to the rogue wolf that had invaded their territory but a feeling told him to go to the clearing again. You’d come back. He was both elated to see you again and petrified that you were out here with no protection. If he hadn’t come across you… he shivered at the very thought of what could have happened. When he heard something moving close by he needed to get you out of there; he didn’t care if it was the omega or a harmless rabbit. Seeing you go created a whimper in his chest, but he would see you again on Saturday. Goodbye for now wasn’t something to stress about.  

After running the perimeter for another hour, he headed back to the farmhouse. The conversation from the library followed him through the trees. He’d simply asked a question to keep the conversation going, but he was finding an allegory within your answer. 

You’d said in order to catch the rain in a picture you had to slow things down. Maybe that was the approach he had to take with you. His initial plan had perhaps been a bit too strong. If circumstances were different, it might have worked. But given the fact that he had competition for your heart, that would no longer be a good direction to go in. So he would take it slow. He would get to know you through these small meetings about the project. And he would let you get to know him. Maybe then the pull would grow on your side. Maybe then you would come to him on your own terms instead of him chasing you down. Yes, exactly like rain in a photo.

Now back home with a clear head, he slipped into the jeans he’d hidden in the bushes before walking up to the back door. The kitchen was a ruckus like always as he entered. Most of the pack was home from the university, except for Junmyeon. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol were discussing what to do about dinner while Jongdae and Baekhyun were teasing the younger wolves about… something. Minseok couldn’t really pick up on what they were going on about. No one seemed to notice the eldest’s entrance, but that was alright. Minseok simply grabbed a cup from the cabinet and filled it with water from the tap. Leaning against the counter, he sipped at the room temperature liquid with his eyes trained on the floor. 

“Minseok?”

He looked up at the brother who called his name. The kitchen had quite down a few notches. “Yeah?”

Jongdae gave him that concerned gaze that curled the corners of his lips. “Why were you out running by yourself?”

“I was just trying to see if I could find the omega.” While that was the truth, it wasn’t everything that occurred out in the woods. He was getting closer to telling everyone about finding his mate, just so he didn’t have to tiptoe around anymore. He would see how Saturday went and then he would decide. 

“But why on your own?”

“I sent him.”

Junmyeon came into the kitchen, taking the leather messenger bag that was draped over his shoulder off and placing it on the kitchen table. “It was just a recon mission.” A little smile perked up in the corner of his mouth. Around the room a few eyes rolled, but no one called out the leader’s exaggeration of the situation. “If he was able to find anything then he was supposed to note it and report back.” He looked to Minseok, who shook his head. There was nothing. 

“Still odd that you sent him by himself,” Sehun commented with narrowed eyes. 

“I thought he could use the quiet.”

“You are all too loud,” Minseok jumped in. Several voices roared in protest, not realizing that they were instead proving his point. 

“What’s for dinner?” Jongin asked, the subject immediately being changed. What a relief it was that they all had a powerful focus on their stomachs - especially when they were empty. Minseok took the opportunity to finish off the water and head upstairs to take a shower.

[easyobsession]

DWTS24: WEEK 1 (Lo Recaps)

WHAT IS UP YOU DANCE-LOVING BASTARDS? I WAS IN A CAR DURING THE PREMIERE TRAVELING HOME 13 HOURS FROM THE GODDAMN HAPPIEST PLACE ON EARTH AND ALAS, HERE I SIT TO TYPE THIS VERY POST. YOU ASKED FOR WEEKLY RECAPS, I WAS FLATTERED AND THEREFORE FELT OBLIGATED, AND NOW I’M GOING TO GET THIS DONE SO I CAN DRINK A DR. PEPPER AND TAKE MY PILLS LIKE THE 80 YEAR OLD I REALLY AM INSIDE. JESUS CHRIST, IT’S SEASON 24.

THIS RECAP STARTS RIGHT NOW.

 NORMANI AND VAL. QUICKSTEP. 7677=27/40.

Instantly, she’s the first one out of the gate so you know she’s gonna be lowballed. What shocked me was just how low they went- that was a theme of the entire night for me, actually. I thought for sure we’d see some 8s and maybe one or two 7s at most. I liked it, myself. Fun, fast paced, and it seemed to match her personality and turn a stuffy quickstep into something cool and funky to bring her fanbase into the show. I thought her form was pretty damn good and considering that Val doesn’t water shit down, Normani held her own.

NANCY AND ARTEM. VIENESSE WALTZ. 7777=28/40.

This was pretty much what I expected. It was nice, it was fairly clean and pretty and an awesome starting point. Artem riding in shirtless on a Zamboni and making them both super uncomfortable was a highlight of the night for me. On a completely different note, a lot of people are comparing Nancy her to fellow Olympic skaters and DWTS champions Meryl Davis and Kristi Yamaguchi. This is the portion of the review where I share why I find this to be complete and utter bullshit: Number one, Meryl is/was an ice dancer and competed her entire life with not only a male partner, but the same male partner. Big difference. Next! Number 2. Kristi yes, did compete as a singles skater as well and yes, is only a mere 2 years younger than Nancy. HOWEVER. THE KEY FACTOR HERE IS THAT KRISTI COMPETED ON SEASON 6 OF THIS STUPID SHOW. IN 2008. NINE DAMN YEARS AGO. If my math is correct (which is probably isn’t) she won when she was around 34 years old. Nancy is 45. AGE IS A FACTOR. IT ISN’T AGEISM, IT’S FACT. GIVE THE WOMAN A BREAK. I thought she looked nervous as hell, but really lovely. I think now that she’s got the jitters out, she’ll only go up.

CHRIS AND WITNEY. CHA CHA. 5444=17/40.

He… oh my lord. Don’t get me wrong, he seems nice enough. But aside from the obvious, things got so awkward after it was over and it was just uncomfortable. I think he was trying too hard to be funny and he was so nervous on top of it all and it just all didn’t add up. And god love him, he knew. He knew and them saying it just made it so much worse. The poor guy. I’m leaving it at that. He gave it his best effort and I can never give anyone less than a solid and sincere applause for that. Good for him for doing it.

BONNER AND SHARNA. CHA CHA. 6556=22/40.

Here’s where I walk boldly in front of the firing squad and take my stance without shame. You all know how much I hate a showmance when it’s not my own idea, and DWTS overdoes them like the blackened fish thing on the menu I saw on vacation. He’s insane for what he does, but it makes him happy and I can support that. But I’m already annoyed with this gimmick. If they have the chemistry, we’ll notice, but don’t try to force it just as an attempt to make us forget the obvious eye-fucking last season despite James having a girlfriend. I’m just sayin’. Overall it was alright. It felt a little too Magic Mike for me. He’s stiff and he was off count almost the entire time, which I basically already assumed he would be. He’ll never be great but he looks like Jackson Rathbone and I like how Sharna calls him “Bonnah,” so if they quit with the forced gimmick and just let shit happen naturally I’d probably be the captain of this goddamn ship.  Next.

CHARO AND KEO. SALSA. 6555=21/40.

THIS. WAS. SO GODDAMN FUCKING MUCH BETTER THAN I EVER COULD HAVE DREAMED. She remembered a good portion of the steps, she SOMEWHAT KEPT UP WITH HIM, she’s 66 goddamn years old- GOOD FOR HER. I cannot wait to see the shit Keo has to go through and the wide-eyed gazes he’ll have along the way. For what it was, I honestly can’t complain. Good on you.

NICK AND PETA. CHA CHA. 6666=24/40.

I got so pissed when I watched this, I swear to god, because I really wanted him to suck so bad that I could just rag on him until I was blue in the face but it was ACTUALLY NOT FUCKING BAD AT ALL. HE ACTUALLY HAS A LITTLE BIT OF RHYTHM. Peta is a national treasure, obviously, but this asshole, like… fuck, man. Honestly though, enough of the You’re In Love thing though, because literally NOBODY BELIEVES IT. INCLUDING YOU OR VANESSA. We all get it, we’ll put on our shocked emoji when you suddenly break-up after your contract allotted engagement period is over. You want attention. Just go into porn or something like you’ve still got some dignity and quit being annoying.

Ahh… it’s so good to be back. :D

HEATHER AND MAKS. VIENESSE WALTZ. 7777=28/40.

*singing* Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuullshit. I hate everyone. Go home. I already am home. Thank god, walking almost 30 miles in 4 days damn near killed me. Whatever. You could tell she was surprised and that she was upset not with the scores, but with herself for not getting better scores, which I hate. I’m hoping this is more of a strategy by TPTB for a Progressing Each Week storyline as opposed to Simone’s copycat The Best Since Night One story that mirrors Laurie’s. (No disrespect to Simone- but I’ll get to that later) Anyway, I thought it was amazing. Flawless? No. She was nervous just like everyone else, but she was far more comfortable up there than a lot of the rest and she and Maks looks fucking incredible together. Also she’s a knockout in yellow. I adore her. What else is new? Moving on.

DAVID AND LINDSAY. 7777=28/40.

I’m going to quickly say that it’s horse shit that Heather got the same score as him. BUT STICK WITH ME FOR A MINUTE. Heather was underscored like I under exaggerate when I say I’m kind of a nervous person sometimes, but this guy totally earned those 7s with a heart clap on the back. I was blown away in the best sense of the word. I had no clue who the hell this man is because the only thing I know about baseball is Mike Lawson and Ginny Baker (#Bawson WADDUP FAM) so I went in 100% blank and I really truly did enjoy this performance. I like his partnership with Lindsay, I love his attitude, and to top it all off he actually appears to be somewhat capable. I’m for it and look forward to more. YES.

ERIKA AND GLEB. SALSA. 6666=24/40.

Again, I thought she was lowballed. Since they are in no way alike, obviously I will now compare her to Amber Rose from last season, who I also thought would be pretty comfortable in front of the camera and shaking her booty like a boss if nothing else. Except Erika actually DID IT. She went out there and didn’t hold back and IT MADE A DIFFERENCE IN THE PERFORMANCE. Did she know every single step? Nope. Was her form flawless? Nope. Could you tell she was nervous? Yup. Did she make plenty of mistakes? Absolutely. But she sold it and that makes all the difference. I like her. I like her hair. I like her sass. “Who doesn’t wake up every day wanting to win in life? You gotta put these people on notice. I’M HERE. HI.” Apparently I love the raunchy because I love it. Bring it fucking on, girlfriend. Werk.

RASHAD AND EMMA. CHA CHA 8788=31/40.

Good? Yes. A surprise? Kind of, considering he’s another athelete and therefore blank slate for me. Worthy of second place? Debatable. Worthy of beating out some of his competition like he did on the leaderboard? No. I’m sorry but no. He seems like a lot of fun and like a pretty nice guy, so I’m definitely a million times more willing to try than I was with Antonio or Von or Calvin because Rashad is far more inviting and approachable and easier to connect with. I’m optimistic. And congrats to Emma for finally getting a hunk to dance with! Enjoy the eye candy, girl! Apparently your and Sasha’s wedding gift is neither of you getting a shitty partner this season. I approve.

MR. T  AND KYM. CHA CHA. 5555=20/40.

….It was so sweet to see Robert in the audience. They’re very cute. And Mr. T… played the part well. And he… had a great costume. And he really tried. But worth a better score than Chris? Eeeeeeehhh. Not lower, of course, but 3 points higher? Really? Let’s all call a spade a spade, quit with the catchphrase, and move on with our lives, yeah?

SIMONE AND SASHA. TANGO. 8888=24/40.

…sigh. Okay. Let me explain this. I love her. Of course I love her. How could you not? She’s adorable. She’s a little awkward, kinda shy, super sweet, giggly, giant grin, complete doll that has skills for days. Her partnership with Sasha is incredible and she lights up the room. ….but other than her being 19 instead of 16…. It’s not even that I’m against her story, which I realize she can’t control regardless, but that’s not it anyway. It’s just that it was LAST DAMN SEASON. You have to put a break between them or it’s just unfair to everyone involved. And I’m going to be mad all season on her and Sasha’s behalf because of it, and I’m gonna be pissed as hell when all of her fans throw a royal fit in three months when she loses. Because I told you so. Someone get me a goddamn job at ABC, I’ll have this thing running like a well oiled machine within a few weeks. With Derek and Brooke gone, aside from Carrie Ann and the singers, the worst of the worst have already been tossed out on their ass. I’LL MAKE THIS PLACE WORTH MILLIONS, MILLIONS I TELL YA.

Okay, that’s it. I’m not even proofing this shit. I’m tired.

HMU on social media. @lauthom93 because I’m cool. The end.

Love, hugs, and my middle finger because it’s my life and my future employers hopefully never discover this blog,

Dueces.

[marshmallow-phd]

Innocent Intentions

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Tao x Reader

Summary: There was one thing you couldn’t stand in all your years at college: playboys. And the campus was riddled with them. So when Tao - a player with a particularly well-known reputation - inserts himself into your life, you come up with a plan to get rid of him, whether he makes your heart race or not. But the more he’s the around, the more you just might find there’s a hidden layer underneath all the rumors, including a secret you never could have guessed….

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I Final

**

You knew you shouldn’t have walked into the math lab on Friday hoping for a different outcome, but you did anyway and the level of disappointment that you came as a shock. Tao stayed true to his word and didn’t showed up for another “tutoring session”. It was pointless to call them that anymore as he didn’t need the help. Hell, he was probably better at it than you. But you liked spending that time with him. You liked his stupid jokes and the way a sparkle appeared in his eyes when he was looking at you. It made you feel… well, it made you feel pretty damn special. And the way he was constantly chasing after you even when it would be easier to turn to the next girl… let’s just say that your faith in him was growing each and every day.

For an hour or so, you sat at your usual table, alone and bored, waiting for this to be the one time he really lied to you and showed up unannounced. You wouldn’t even mind the fib. You’d let it slide because – although admitting it, even just to yourself, was a little humiliating – you missed him.

Groaning, you let your head fall to the table with a hard thunk, not caring about the others around you who probably turned to see what the commotion was.

“You okay, (y/n)?”

You looked up, just slightly turning your head to the side without having to lift it up completely so you could see the intruder. It was Jae. You sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… bored.”

“Well, would you want to finally go grab that coffee?” A very hopeful look was shimmering in Jae’s gaze. Why hadn’t you ever realized before that he liked you like this? Or had he always  been so obvious in the past? Maybe you were now simply more sensitive to it. Poor thing was just a little too late.

You searched for an excuse that sounded real and not pulled out of the air, but each one sounded worse than the last. “Um, well, I-” Your phone vibrated against the table. Saved by the bell. Holding up a finger to Jae to tell him to wait, you slid the green phone icon across the screen to answer the call. “Hey, Wyatt, what’s up?”

“Hey, what are you doing right now?” Wyatt sounded jittery, excited. That was never a good sign.

“Nothing,” you replied nervously. “What’s up?”

“Good. Get your butt over to my place.”

You scoffed playfully. “Why?”

“Just get over here!”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be there in five minutes.” You hung up before Wyatt could tell you to get there in four. Shooting Jae an apologetic look, you explained, “Sorry. Wyatt called and it’s some sort of emergency. Maybe another time?” You cringed internally at adding that open-ended suggestion at the end. Now you were digging yourself a hole that you would have to climb out of all over again in the future.

“Yeah,” Jae nodded sadly. “Maybe another time.”

“I’ll see you later.” You ran out of the math lab, guilt taking a ride on your shoulder until you finally flicked it off outside in the courtyard. There was nothing to feel guilty about. Wyatt called and as one of your best friends, he took priority over a cup of coffee that you weren’t too keen on getting anyway.

Crossing campus, you headed for the Greek court where a majority of the sorority and fraternity houses were located. When Wyatt told you freshman year that he was going to participate in rush week, you were worried that he might have been a little over his head. But the loser fit right in and had been enjoying his time with his “brothers”. You were thankful that he still carved out more than enough time for you and Kendall and he hadn’t turned into one of the huge jerks you’d seen in every college movie ever made.

As you walked into the frat house, the other members strewn across the main room simply waved at you. They knew your face enough to not stop you while you climbed the stairs to the second floor where the rooms were located. Kendall was already lying on Wyatt’s bed, scribbling notes down in a spiral notebook while glancing at the textbook laying open in front of her. Wyatt was sitting at his desk with his phone in his hand. His roommate was absent, giving you leeway to sit on the nicely made bed that was the complete opposite of Wyatt’s tornado-like chaos.

“Okay, what’s the emergency?”

Wyatt looked up from his phone, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Oh, yeah. You were not going to like whatever it was he had called you here for.

“Well, you see,” he purred, “there’s a new bar that opened up a few weeks ago. Kendall and I figured that it’s been long enough that the initial hype has died down that now it should only be moderately busy tonight. So, we’re dragging you with us to check it out.”

Hm… that wasn’t as bad as you were expecting. “Okay. What time?”

Kendall’s pencil stopped scratching against the paper. Wyatt looked at you with round, saucer-like eyes. “Excuse me?”

“I asked what time you wanted to go,” you reiterated. Yes, while the absence of a fight or whine was highly unusual for you, Wyatt caught you in a rare moment. A moment where you wanted to be distracted. Staying home with your parents or even by yourself for the evening was a sure way for you to constantly be wondering about what Tao was doing and why he’d suddenly decided to stay away for so long.

Still staring at you, Wyatt leaned over and fake-whispered to Kendall, “I think she’s been replaced by a body-snatcher.”

“I can clearly hear you,” you grumbled.

“Good,” Wyatt straightened back up. “You were meant to. I was all ready to debate with you. I’d been working on the argument all morning and now all that brain power has gone to waste.” He narrowed his eyes at you. “Why the sudden attitude change about actually leaving your house?”

You ignored the obvious insult, shrugging. “Kendall said it herself. It’s our last year in college. Might as well make some memories, right?” Please, you begged internally, don’t push anymore. Tao was a secret you desperately needed to hold onto for a little while longer. Or a heck of a lot longer.

Coming to your rescue, Kendall shut her text book and slid off the bed. “Okay, we’ll take what we can get. Let’s go get dinner before the rush starts. After that, we’ll go get ready at your place, okay, (y/n)?”

You nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

Wyatt started to protest. “But-”

“Just let it go. You got what you wanted.” Kendall pushed up on Wyatt’s hanging chin, closing it shut for emphasis.

The two of them may be a weird dynamic, but in this moment, you were thankful for the pair of extroverted friends you had.

**

Maybe thankful was a stretch.

Kendall and Wyatt were currently arguing over which round of shots while you sipped slowly on your fruity cocktail that was almost gone. The party crowd had apparently not gotten tired of the newest place to hang out. Occupancy felt dangerously close to fire code max, but your best friends insisted on still checking it out since you were already here. Finding a table that wasn’t claimed was a miracle and you planted your butt down in a seat, refusing to move in case another sharp eyes patron wanted to steal it.

“Fine!” Kendall yelled over the loud music and insistent chatter around you. “We’ll get the stupid gummy bear shots!”

Wyatt slapped the table in triumph before hopping out of his chair and pushing his way through the crowd to the bar. You snickered under your breath, thankful that the laugh was covered up by all the noise of the establishment.

Too soon, Wyatt was back, balancing three glasses that certainly looked bigger than a normal shot in his hands. “Alright, ladies. On three, we drink up.”

Rolling your eyes, you took one of the shots. “This is the last one.” At least one of you needed to remain somewhat sober and you were glad to play the part of the responsible friend.

“Alright,” Kendall agreed, very reluctantly by the grimace on her face.

“Okay,” Wyatt clapped his hands together. “One. Two. Three!” In perfect sync, the three of you gulped back the sweet, candy-like drink and slammed the glasses back down on the table.

“You were right,” Kendall laughed as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “That is delicious.”

You were about to agree on actually liking the taste of that particular drink when a familiar crop of blonde hair caught your eye as it snuck out the front door.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom real quick,” you said suddenly, not even really thinking about what you were aiming to do.

Kendall started to slip out of her chair. “I’ll go with y-”

“No, that’s okay! I’ll be fine!” You were up and disappearing into the sea of drunk students before she could counter you with logic about going off on your own.

Thankfully, the bathrooms and the front entrance were in the same direction, so it didn’t look too weird to be rushing for the door. You just hoped you had enough cover so the others didn’t notice you bypassing your fake destination.

Outside, Tao was standing in the parking lot with a younger student that you recognized. Sehun, you think his name was? He’d been in the math lab once or twice, but you never helped him.

“Look, we don’t have to leave if you don’t want to,” Tao sighed. You stayed inside the alcove that covered the entrance, hidden from view as you pressed yourself against the wall. Plenty of people who were coming and going from the bar were sending curious looks your way, but you were too focused on the fair haired friends to notice or care.

“You’re no fun like this,” Sehun barked. “Ever since you met her I’ve been on my own.”

Tao’s shoulders drooped and even from here you could feel the guilt he was emitting. “I’m sorry, it’s just-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sehun scoffed. “She’s the one. She’s made you change, blah, blah, blah. If I have to listen to you talk about how much you’re really falling for that (y/n) girl, I’m leaving you here to run home.”

Shaking his head, Tao starting walking away towards his car. Had that been here when you arrived? Surely not. You would have honed in on it right away. “Like I would ever let you drive my car.”

“I bet you’d let (y/n) drive it,” Sehun yelled at Tao’s back. You didn’t hear the reply, but whatever it was, it made Sehun scrunch his face in a mocking fashion. Tao started the car and roared the engine, even inching the car back like he was really going to leave his friend there. Sehun jumped into the passenger’s seat and the two of them zoomed off down the street.

The whole way back to your seat, you were grinning. Each step was light and airy. You would have probably been skipping if you had any room. The words you’d overheard weren’t too different from the ones Tao had already said to you, but hearing them in that context – unfiltered and honest – was giving them a whole new meaning. You could hardly believe that he really felt that strongly, so much that he was changing, even to the point of his friends noticing. Normally, you would have taken that exchange with a grain of salt, but you couldn’t. You were in too deep. Maybe it was just the alcohol making you giddy.

“Was it a fun trip to the bathroom?” Wyatt asked with a raised eyebrow when you reached the table again.

You blinked. “What?”

“You look like you just met your favorite boy band.”

Honestly, you weren’t even sure if that could top what just happened.

You shrugged. “I think the alcohol is getting me. I should probably stick with water for the rest of the night.” Looking towards the bar, you took your chance and headed for the straight path that was open to you. You weren’t lying about needing to stick with water from now on, but you needed to get your face under control. But how could you when Huang Zitao couldn’t even enjoy a night out because of you?

**

On Monday morning, you were still up on cloud nine. Somehow, not even the droll of the weekend spent on the couch doing absolutely nothing (besides the occasional spout of homework) could bring your mood down. While you could now keep the beaming of your smile at a normal level, the swelling inside your chest couldn’t be beat down.

While you were walking innocently through the courtyard, a pair of arms snatched you up, lifting you so your feet were no longer touching the ground. A squeal escaped from your throat.

Tao’s laugh that you almost had memorized now echoed behind you. The initial fear you had was replaced with delight. Finally.

Putting you down, he let go of you and stepped back. You turned around, feigning irritation. “Well, someone’s in a good mood today.”

Tao was practically glowing. And you didn’t mean his naturally sun-kissed skin. was particularly attractive today. There was something different about his whole aura, but you wouldn’t have the slightest clue as to what could have changed over the course of a few days. He seemed… taller? No. That wasn’t a good way to describe it. Lighter, maybe?

Oh, well. Whatever it was, you were glad for it.

Tao eliminated the space between you in just one step. A predatory look was present in his eyes, but you weren’t wary or scared of it. With his hands on your hips, he held you in place. He leaned down until your faces were just centimeters apart. You could feel your eyelids already starting to close in anticipation.

But the kiss that you were really wanting to experience never came.

“Can’t I just be happy to see you?” When he pulled back you sucked in your lips to keep them from pouting.

Damn it. You like him too much. You got sucked in just like you told yourself not to, just like you swore you wouldn’t. But your cares were all gone. Because you like the warmth from his hands as they rested on your sides. You liked how safe you felt with him, how easy everything became when you were around him. There was a mystery behind this strange connection you had with him and you wanted to explore every avenue to solve it.

You nodded, no longer able to hold back the smile that was begging to be released. “Okay, I’ll take that.”

Tao frowned, his eyebrows pulling together so tightly they created a deep line right between them. It was cute, but the intensity in his stare was a little troubling.

“What?” you asked cautiously.

Tao laughed for just a split second. “You haven’t once pushed me away or slapped me or told me that I was invading your space.” He playfully put his hand to your forehead. “Are you okay?”

You scrunched up your face, grabbing his hand and pushing it away, but not really letting go. In each place where his skin met yours, there were sparks of electricity dancing off the surface, warming and addicting. Now what was causing that?

“I’m perfectly fine,” you insisted. “I just… I missed you.” Crap. Did you actually say that out loud? Now you were in for it.

“You did?” Tao questioned softly. You nodded. “Does this mean I can finally take you out on a date? A real date? No more forced tutoring sessions.”

“Yeah, I guess it does,” you sighed. You’d kind of miss those tutoring sessions. It was several hours of uninterrupted conversation with him. Whether you knew it at the time or not, you liked having this boy all to yourself.

Elated at your agreement, Tao slipped his fingers in between yours and started walking with you. Unfortunately…

“Um, Tao?”

He stopped turning to look at you. “Yeah?”

“My class is in the other direction.” You pointed towards the business college where your first period was going to start in fifteen minutes.

Tao huffed, but let go of your hand. “Okay. I’ll come find you later then. I’ll take you to dinner tonight. Some place nice.”

You licked your lips in an attempt to calm down the giggly grin you were sporting. “Okay. My last class gets out at four-thirty.”

“Good. See you then.” It was a little bit of a let down that all he did was wave, but you kept your mouth shut, waving back before turning around and heading off.

You only made it a few steps, however, before Tao pounced on you from behind. He encased his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Have a good time in class,” he whispered in your ear. Then he pressed his lips against your cheek before letting you go.

“You,” you turned around, but he was already gone, “...too.” Blowing your lips, you frowned. How did he disappear so quickly?

With tentative fingers, you lifted your hand to your cheek. He surprised you with that sneak attack, but it just you even gigglier. Heading back in the direction of your class, again, you only made it a few steps before you stopped. But this time, it wasn’t Tao that halted your steps.

It was Wyatt.

He was standing about twenty feet away. The look on his face said exactly what you feared: he’d seen everything.

Putting your head down, you hurried to class, knowing that lecture hall was now your safe haven.

All throughout the hour and a half, you fidgeted, worried if Wyatt immediately ran off to tell Kendall before you got a chance to explain. What could you even say?

Gosh, you just hoped he didn’t hate you.

No. He probably just thought you were an idiot.

You were only marginally surprised that Wyatt was leaning on the wall across from where you came out of the classroom once you were dismissed. Neither of you said anything as you walked down the hall. You continued to follow Wyatt, knowing exactly where he was going. There was a small coffee shop on campus in the English hall that rarely had anyone in it since most preferred the more high end coffee offered in the student union.

“So,” Wyatt clicked his tongue as the two of you sat down at one of the tiny, sticky tables of the shop, “care to explain?”

You cringed. “It’s kind of hard to….” Wyatt gave you a look, making you sigh. “Okay, look. I don’t know how to explain it, not entirely. One day, he started coming in for tutoring sessions. And… things evolved from there.”

“You do realize that you’re just another conquest for him, right?” Genuine concern was evident in his tone, but classic snarky Wyatt was still coming through.

“It’s not like that,” you insisted. “I know you just think of him as this player, but I’ve seen sides of him that you haven’t.” Memories of Tao with Daeyoung and what he’d said outside of the bar on Friday night made you smile softly. Wyatt would be surprised to know that the playboy came over to your home and took care of you while you were sick.

“(y/n), we’ve all seen his backside.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious, Wyatt.”

“I am, too.” He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “When I said give guys a chance, I didn’t mean start dating Tao.”

“Technically, I’m not dating him. He hasn’t even taken me out on a date.” Yet. But you didn’t want to know Wyatt’s reaction if you mentioned your plans for tonight.

“Well, it definitely looked like you are.”

You sat in silence for a little while, unsure of where to go from there. Yeah, it probably did look pretty affectionate from the outside, you and Tao. You hadn’t meant to be like that. It just came naturally to you when you were with him.

“Are you actually wanting to go through with this?” Wyatt asked, completely serious for once.

Slowly, you nodded. “He’s not who you think he is. There’s so much to him behind the rumors. And I want to see more. I want to see where this goes.”

“Okay.” Wyatt huffed, leaning forward onto the table. “I won’t tell Kendall. As long as you’re sure. She will eventually find out, though.”

“I know.” You wanted to put that off for as long as possible. When you first started letting Tao get close, you were determined to make him run. You never really thought about getting revenge for Kendall, that would have been childish and useless. He wasn’t John Tucker. But Kendall was still your best friend. Would this hurt her? Would she consider things from your point of view? You didn’t know, but you hoped in the far distant future, she would be okay.

Wyatt gave you a very sympathetic look. “It’s going to be hell when she does.”

Whimpering, you laid your head down on the table. Looks like you were finally knocked down a few clouds.