#based on the time I witnessed some guys doing it at my school during lunch and they had to call multiple administrators

[valeovalairs]

Dakota would do the one chip challenge at school, eat it, and chug like carton after carton of milk as people around him watch in horrified fascination. Vyncent would try it out of curiosity and throw up, and William would take one look at them both and just back into the crowd and pretends not to know them. They all get detention.

[sirtaehyunsalot]

What’s His Deal? (pt 1)

pairing: Thomas Valles x fem!reader 💀

one-sidedish love, crack if you squint really hard

warnings: cursing, some racist remarks from white fam 🧍‍♀️, my horrible Spanish, lmk what else

word count: 988 💀💀

AN: im so embarrassed lmfao; i know this movie takes place in the 80s but i didn’t center it arnd that 1) bc i don't know shit about the 80s and 2) bc now u can visualize it in any time period you want. And if you’re not white then you can just act like you were adopted by the White family lmao

You reached into your locker and hung up your bag. Just when you were about to close your locker you heard 3 pairs of footsteps running in your direction. By the time you turned around to see what was happening, it was already too late as one of the boys plowed straight into you, causing you to fall backwards into your still open locker, dropping your things all over the floor and twisting your ankle in the process. Some people who witnessed the whole scene unfold were nearly peeing themselves laughing (you probably would have laughed too if it wasn't for the fact that you were the one experiencing this) and others were looking at you in surprise.

Today was your first day at school in McFarland, California. You already hated this place because it was hot, musty, dirty, noisy, and boring. You and your family had to move here after your dad lost his temper at one of his football players at your old school. Now here you were, in a town where almost everyone spoke Spanish, and roosters woke you up at the ass crack of dawn.

One of the running boys had stopped and turned around to see what had happened to you. When he saw you trying to get out of your locker he turned back around to push the guy that had bulldozed you into the locker.

“Look what you did, ese! Didn’t even bother to apologize” He exclaimed before walking towards you. “Here, lemme help you,” He pulled you up from your locker, closed the door, and started helping you pick up your things.

“Gracias,” You blurted out. You had no idea why you said “thank you” in Spanish, you already knew full well that he spoke English.

“You’re welcome,” He answered with a smile before walking away.

You thought that boy was kinda cute. But you knew a little bit better than to fall head over heels for a dude you had just met and didn't even know the name of just based on looks alone, but you still couldn't get your mind off of that boy. You thought about him so much that during first period you almost didn't hear the teacher telling you to introduce yourself as the new girl in class, which led to you standing in front of the classroom in silence for a good 10 seconds before you realized what you were supposed to be doing. You thought about him in class, at lunch, while you were waiting for your dad to pick you up from school, and even during the ride home.

“Hellooooo, (nameeee), earth to (nameeee),” your little sister Jamie called out to you from the backseat of your dad’s car.

“What do you want?” You sighed, slightly annoyed that she had interrupted your daydreaming session.

“Who’s that dude?”

“Why would I know anyone in McFarland? We’ve only been here for like 3 days”

“Because he’s really fast!”

You finally looked out of the window to see what this girl was talking about, and what you saw was honestly something out of a superhero movie. The guy that helped you earlier was running. Running as fast as the car you were in!

“But we’re going-” -you pause to check the speedometer- “12 miles an hour-! And he’s able to catch up to the car??”

“Like I said, really fast!”

“Oh, I know him! That’s Thomas Valles, he’s the one that gave me a tour around the school today,” said your other sister Julie, around the same age as you.

“Thomas?” you became flustered at the mention of his name.

“OOOO! (Name) likes him!! Dad!! Get closer, get closer! (Name) wants to be closer to her crush!!” Jamie screamed

“SHUT UP JAMIE! I don’t like him, it’s just that he helped me get myself together when I fell ass first into my locker after one of his ‘amigos’ mowed me down while running in the hallway,” you huffed in annoyance as you remembered all the people that were looking and laughing at you.

Unbeknownst to you however, Thomas had stopped running because he noticed your family stalking him and went to stand in front of your car (not the smartest move on his part.)

“Why are you following me, blanco.” he demanded rather than asked when your dad stopped the car.

“Do you know how fast you were going?” your dad questioned.

“What are you a cop?”

Your father was quite taken aback by Thomas’s reaction to this. The guy didn’t even seem fazed by the fact that he was going 12 miles an hour!

“You were running at 12mph, that's pretty fast, Valez,” your dad quipped

Thomas chose to ignore the fact that Mr. White had butchered his name. “Well I obviously don’t have a car, right?”

“Can I give you a ride..?”

“No, but you can stop following me.” Thomas replied before he turned around and continued running off to wherever he was going.

“What’s his deal?” Julie scoffed at the whole interaction. “We were only trying to be nice to him, is this how everyone acts in McFarland?”

“I know right?” Jamie agreed.

“In his defense, I think I would be pretty creeped out too if I was a Mexican boy being chased by a van full of random white people,” you half-joked.

Your family let out a loud laugh at your little joke and moved on to other topics soon after. Although, you on the other hand, were still thinking about Thomas for the rest of the way home. And during dinner. And while you were watching TV. And before bed. And even when you were in bed he still managed to creep back into your thoughts. You were also thinking about the question Julie asked during the ride home. “What’s his deal?” What was Thomas Valles’s deal? You had no idea, but you immediately knew that you wanted to find out.

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

This was wild 💀 lmao pt 2 will be coming soon shoot me an ask if you want to be in my taglist

[rmelcher]

Halas

Halas

What brought Bill and I together was that we shared certain distrust of the world, a certain sense of melancholy and the inherent injustice of the world that attracted us to the music of Van Dyke Parks and Randy Newman and Ry Cooder. My own brooding was tempered by a persistent idealism that refused to believe humans couldn't do better and his was backgrounded by an obsessive desire to know things to their most intimate core. Neither of us ever grew up listening to Elvis. Elvis, to us, wasn't remotely the king of anything. He was the cute and entertaining guy we watched in the movies they showed us during lunch break in junior high. We both listened to jazz.

I used to refer to us as Plato and Aristotle, as we made the rounds of apartments and parties or took his mother’s Honda on long trips across the northern Ohio countrysides. We agreed and disagreed on everything. We made up poetry based on highway signs. Bill preceded me into most areas of exploration but his daring and curiosity was backed by my own enthusiasm for things with new possibilities.

We were a form of Mutt and Jeff out in a world that had become uncomfortable and perhaps somewhat unreliable with the deaths of fathers and grandparents and the abandonment of siblings. On top of this we met in the middle of the sixties. It was precisely at that cusp where the dams holding back the rising angst of a generation were cracking under our exposure to wider contexts of history and in the glow of television screens. We were witnesses to assassinations and race riots and the liberation movements sweeping across Europe and we were caught up in the rise of privileged protest. Having been programmed toward college by the GI Bills our parents inherited out of World War II we were destined to question every institution that held up society, ungrateful wretches that we were.

The bull roarer. The hat. the box. The commune.

My own obsessions ran toward the pursuit of obscure trains of philosophical thinking. By nature a religiously inclined personality. I had given up religion in a controversial move some years earlier, although I would return later to aggressively question the fundamental motives and morals of the church when I wasn't invited. I plowed through piles and piles of books and journals following tangents wherever they led, until whatever was my original quest became obscured. At times my quest was nothing short of neurotic. I couldn't pick up a magazine or a book unless I could the whole thing from cover to cover. To this day I find it impossible to start anything in the middle. To understand anything I had to trace it back to the point of origin. This was combined with a desire to understand everything which made it impossible to pursue any course of study to its detailed depths, rather I sought out the links between things in order to understand them. It made me an impossible student.

Bill’s obsessions emerged out of being born into a family of craft persons. His father was an artist who worked for Hallmark Cards most of his career and his older brother had won an award for making a shirt movie about his impending divorce. His mother was an expert gardener and master of household crafts. My sense was that he had been abandoned rather early by his father due to death and by his siblings due to their various successes that took them to other cities. Bills life was wrapped in his mothers as he appears to have taken the place of his father in his role as companion and adversary. I sensed that he was in competition with his brother and sister whom I never met. He learned photography by building a camera. He learned how to sew by building a loom and then weaving his own material. Whenever I cruised over to his house after school we would retreat to his upstairs bedroom refuge where he had installed his fathers stereo and we would listen to music and smoke while he introduced me to all sorts of ephemera, from experimental music to underground film making to politics. At various times he was into Rudolph Steiner’s rituals for biodynamic gardening methods, homeopathy, extraterrestrial intelligence and later on dowsing. He and his mother introduced me to wheat grass and carrot juice and avocados eaten with vanilla ice cream.

He went to Chicago for the Democratic Convention in 1965 and experienced the police riots first hand. He introduced me to the activities of a small group of young socialist intellectuals led by an old union fighter and veteran of the Spanish Revolution. We attended early demonstrations against the Vietnam War where there was two plainclothes policemen for every marcher. We started an underground magazine in high school for which we were eventually disciplined.

We were odd balls who had little interest in the activities of our friends unless we were leading them, and we were generally too shy to do that. Bill's shyness was born out of his unresolved homosexuality and mine came out of a mixture of nerd like insecurity wed to an insufferable arrogance. We both saw the world in ways that were substantially different from most of our peers and this above all is what we recognized in each other.

Halas was the youngest of three, one brother and one sister, and the last to leave the house. His father, who died some years before, had been an illustrator at Hallmark Cards and encouraged an artistic and intellectual bent in his children. A sister married and moved to the east and an older brother had gone to film school in San Francisco and made an award winning short documentary about his divorce. The family lived in a thoroughly middle-class neighborhood but carried an exceptional and iconoclastic view of the world.

My own teenaged life was made unusual by an experience of having been recruited for a government program that was part of President Johnson’s War On Poverty. Called Upward Bound, the program took kids with high IQ’s from lower income families who were performing below par in school and sent them to spend the summer on a college campus taking college prep courses and generally getting exposed to a wider world. Most of the kids were black, with a sprinkling of Puerto Rican’s and whites like me. The counselors were all veterans of the civil right’s struggles of the early sixties, and we all made friends and romped far away from our natural element, learning lessons about the world far outside the milieu of our natural peers.

We had both been exposed to what were for most people exotic modes of viewing the world. His was familial and mine was institutional. We both attended classes in a thoroughly respectable and highly rated public high school that perched at the edges of the suburbs, with a student body made up of the usual cross section of those bound for the factory or for college. My own group was part of an esoteric order made up of the designated “one’s” and “two’s,” that is, the most promising in terms of future societal status. I was a “two,” having a mixed grade average and having transferred in from another lower status school, while most of my friends were “ones,” as they tended to include more of the independent thinkers and those with whom I’d attended special classes in Junior High.

Raging in the background of all of our friendships were the Civil Rights insurrections of the sixties and the War in Vietnam. Everything else was going on as well. A society that had up until our time been characterized by the regimentation and triumphalist progress that followed World War Two was beginning to divide our once conservative culture into a bewildering infinitude of choices and potential destinies. Halas might have been a short skip ahead of a lot of people in perceiving the dissolution of certainty, and my own life had been laid wide open with disorienting uncertainties, but for neither of us was it a pathway to resolution. Pretty soon just about everyone would be compelled to come along as American culture poured over the edge.

The edge is where I knew Halas. He later went over and disappeared into the mixed up milieu of the mid seventies. The culture of change met up with the culture of commerce and the revolution became the basis for a generation of marketing strategies. The baby boomers hit the sharp upward incline of the bell curve while politics devolved into cynicism, and while we were looking in our pockets for a new direction or retreating into spiritual communities, the Age of Reagan was upon us. My friend Halas, caught between revelation and paranoia, visionary release and sexual ambiguity fled into the Vermont woods and was never seen or heard from again.

I had a girlfriend once who did that. She just vanished one day, out of my life, no explanation, no preliminaries. Although perhaps Bill's was a more complete vanishing, from my life and the lives of others. Still, the effect was the same. No mourning and no resolution, just a vacuum waiting to be filled.

[honklore]

would you consider doing an au where dream is a high school teacher (maybe a math teacher or english teacher or something?) and he has been crushing on his colleague, maybe an english teacher or an art teacher, and his friends have been teasing him quite a bit for it since he hasn’t had the courage to ask them out, which is quite weird considering he’s usually so confident, but it’s just a lot of flirting and shyness between the two until he final caves and asks them out? maybe even some of the students had begun to call him out on not acting on it? it’s perfectly okay if you don’t wanna do this but thank you for reading it :))

you + me = <3 | dreamwastaken

(math teacher!dream, gn!reader, dream likes u oooooh, cute kids, writer knows nothing about chess or how chess tournaments work, you requested high school but i can’t read so i chose middle school sorry!! this is literally nothing like you requested pls forgive me but i has fun, proceed with caution)

song to listen to: roadtrip by dream

i am setting the scene to say that teacher!dream is hot!!!! like, rolled up sleeves and leather watch kind of hot !!!!!!!

dream with fluffy waves that he sometimes ties into a bun if it gets too hot,,, brown roots and blond hair, brown eyebrows, forest green eyes,,,,,, freckles,,,,,

teaches middle school math!! very patient w his kids!!! but also has been known to go on tangents so long that they last until the bell rings

he’s the teacher whose classroom the weird/shy kids sit in at lunch

reads up on his students special interests and tries to ask them about it and encourage them

doesn’t make kids write out their entire process during testing bc he understands some students work in their head and can’t <3

works with different methods to help each kid learn math in their own way

the sweetest ever omg i can’t imagine a nicer teacher than dream

has a open-policy snack cabinet in case some of the kids can’t buy their lunch

has rlly cheesy anti bullying posters on his wall but actually talks to his students about it and makes sure they know he is someone they can go to

okay this is supposed to be a love story not an i heart teacher dream story sorry

you’re the art teacher of the middle school!!! you are also one of the favorites when it comes to teachers

dream is sort of a practical logical comforter and you’re a more dreamy, imagination-based comforter

so the kids ofc have their favorites

you’re a wonderful teacher !!!!

you let the kids use art class as a sort of art therapy, giving them time to do whatever they want with colors and mediums of their choosing

and assignments are usually fun!! you make it fun by giving them good topics that encourage them to express their opinions and personalities !!!

dream has the FATTEST crush on you

it’s so big and he’s very bad at hiding it

literally buys an extra coffee friday morning

slips into your classroom like “oh? hey ___ ? didn’t expect you to be here!!”

you: “in my own classroom?”

dream: “ANYWHO!! they messed up my order AGAIN and gave me a caramel frappe instead of a matcha so you can have it”

he does this every week

new excuses sometimes but it’s always ur favorite flavor, sitting right beside his matcha in a lil cup holder

dream is the type of guy to make sure your fingertips touch when he hands you your cup

so he can blush about it later and pretend it means something

any time he needs supplies or something he goes to you first instead of the communal supply closet

during his break he’ll come in and try to talk to you while your kids are painting

you sometimes sit with him during lunch!! and the kids that all sit in his classroom love you, even if they don’t have art

and every time you do he stutters over his own words and his neck gets rlly red

the kids all give each other side eyes when he does this

math kids 🤝 art kids : tired of witnessing dream’s bad flirting skills

dream brings you a cupcake on your birthday and a little necklace w a crystal on it :/

“i googled crystals for protection!! because i want u safe always!! and i made sure it was sustainably sourced!! let me know if you don’t like it!!”

how could you not like it :(

his eyes are wide and almost worried and when you give him a big smile he gets so happy like :((

your students are just. super still behind their easels hoping this is the moment you’ll actually kiss him

but no

it isn’t until a few of your kids come up one day and ask about forming an official chess club

they need at least one teacher willing to supervise and go on tournament trips and stuff

half of the team asks you and the other asks dream

but they don’t communicate that to each other

so it’s a saturday when both you and dream show up to the school in your casual clothes, unlocking one of the rooms for the kids to practice in

you help some kids set up while dream takes a few to the side and begins to teach them the basics, since not everyone who joins is an actual player

some just wanted to be w their friends ^u^!!!

but dream keeps catching your eye over the sea of middle schoolers and it makes your cheeks heat up whether u want them to or not

the two of you becoming the unofficial parents of the middle school chess team; you take turns supervising but usually both go to trips for tournaments!!

there are six students who make up the chess team + a few who just come for the snacks and respite

and your team is actually so good they qualify for state

and it’s going to be an overnight trip !!

some parents have also agreed to come chaperone

the team is so excited!!! the entire team got to go even though only a few are competing

theres a lot of lovely support going around

your kids are expressive and bright, all wearing special t-shirts they made that count as “uniforms”

they are twelve and dgaf about what ANYONE has to say

puffy markers and all

and before the tournament they surprise u and dream with ur own shirts :(( they are so sweet omg

and ofc you and dream wear them!!! fashion be damned!!!!!

the shirts are like MR WASTAKEN LOVES HIS CHESS TEAM

TEACHER ___ LOVES THEIR CHESS TEAM

AND THERES AN IRON-ON PICTURE OF YOU GUYS AND UR KIDS — EVERYBODY IS CHEESING AND ITS JUST SO SO CUTE

man they just look up to you guys so much

they really needed a place to fit in and your club gave them that

even the ones who are HORRIBLE at chess are sitting in the bleachers with you guys, cheering on their friends ><!!

it’s all so wholesome omg

and your team ends up qualifying !!!!!!!! it’s huge !!!!!!! you all go out for celebratory milkshakes sponsored by mr wastaken !!!!!

and everyone falls asleep with a big smile on their face that night

the next day is full of driving,, and you and dream share a lil seat at the back of the bus

all the kids are winding down, listening to music or playing games on their phones

and dream is so warm, shoulder pressed against yours when he hands you one of his earbuds and is like ,,,, do you want to listen to music with me?

and ofc you do

so the two of you take turns picking songs

dream adds them all later to a playlist called ___ and dream’s epic roadtrip playlist

now that interstate is paved with memories amirite?

once all the kids are picked up at the school, you are about to call your roommate to come pick you up

but dream is like. i can drive you home

dream is that guy who drives with one hand and keeps the other on top of the gear shift <3

you’re just excitedly recounting all the kid’s faces and all the silly stories you were told in the hotel when dream is finally at your apartment complex

and he just bursts

“i really like you”

and you’re just. stunned bc you knew he was fond of you but you never thought he’d be brave enough to SAY it

“i like you too dream!!”

“would it be too cheesy to walk you to your door and kiss you goodbye?”

“maybe... but i like cheesy.”

thank you for requesting!!!

[bunnyywritings]

true love’s kiss

tenya iida x gn!reader

word count: 1.5k

requested by @coleluuviida : So may I request a iida tenya x gn! reader? The plot I want is where reader likes reading a lot of books and comics, they will read romance, action, horror, etc. So then one day reader and the dekusquad are eating lunch together, reader was quick eating their lunch so that they can continue reading their book but then iida ask about what their reading and reader go on and on how, and why they like the story with passion iida was listen with joy even the dekusquad are listening in. After that reader let iida borrow their book the rest is up to your imagination!

[a/n: thank you so much for trusting me with your request sweetheart!! i’m sorry it took so long but here it is, i hope you enjoy! I kinda got carried away...it’s been a while since i’ve properly written so i apologize if it’s not very good :/ without further adieu, here’s some adorable iida content cause he’s the best and deserves the world - yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´-]

It was never strange to see you with your nose buried in between the pages of a book. Your friends found it endearing.Some people, literally just Bakugou, found it a bit ridiculous. 

Denki and Kirishima made a game out of it. They would bet on the genre you were reading purely based on your reactions alone. If your cheeks ever got flushed and your eyes wide, 10/10 it was probably a cheesy romance manga. If your brows were furrowed and your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, it was a mystery novel. A forlorn look in your eyes ment it was some type of magical book with Knights, Wizards, and Dragons (oh my!)

But somebody in particular, albeit enamored by your love of literature, was also concerned.

Iida was in your group of friends and so he had witnessed first hand your obsession with finishing a book. Sometimes you wouldn't eat during lunch because you were so enthralled and when he did get you to eat something, you raced to finish your food so you could grab your book once more and pick up where you left off. You weren't much of a talker and no one at the table really minded your lack of conversation and let you be.

However, this time around, it was different. Iida noticed the bags under your eyes and knew that you hadn't been sleeping. You had been engaging in class and you were keeping up with your studies but the second you guys were allowed a break or you all were let out for lunch, you picked up your book and resumed reading.

Even as you walked with them to the cafeteria, your eyes hadn't left the page. You had your book in one hand and your other was gripping the end of Shoto's blazer, leading you to where you needed to go.

 "It must be a really good one this time." Kirishima muttered to Denki, both watching in amusement as you were being led around by a nonchalant Shoto.

So as you sat at the lunch table, Iida watched in concern. Even with your favorite food in front of you, you still hadn't put the book down. As much as he hated what he was about to do, he just couldn't do nothing.

"(Y/n), as much as I hate to disrupt your reading...I must know, is a book really more important than sleep? Or more important than eating a healthy meal?"

All conversation came to a screeching halt. No one had ever really disrupted your reading before...so no one knew what to expect when Iida spoke up. The seconds were tense as they ticked by and as you moved your hand, they all held their breath, but instead of bookmarking your page, your finger deftly slipped under the corner of the page and turned to the next one.

 "Huh...they didn't even hear you." Ochako giggled.

Sighing, Iida reached over and placed his hand flat on the pages, successfully obstructing your view of the letter on the pages.  

"(Y/n)..."

Normally, you'd be a slight bit annoyed that someone had interrupted you but it was Iida. Sweet, sweet Iida.

"Oh. Sorry." Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, "I must've not heard you. What's wrong?"

Iida sighs.

“I'm just concerned, is all. What's got you so interested?"

 "You really want to know?" He noticed how your eyes twinkled with excitement.

 "Yes, I really want to know."

And with that, you went off on a whole tangent.

Explaining the story from the very beginning. Giving character description with wild and elaborate hand gestures. Even going as far as adding sound effects to fight scenes. This was nothing new for Shoto or Midoriya. They had often asked about the stories you read and quite enjoyed hearing you re-tell them. Shoto never had anyone tell him bedtime stories but he assumes

this is what they would've been like.

Iida was stunned. Absolutely stunned. He's never seen you speak about something so passionately, other than the time he had asked you why you wanted to be a hero.

So as you went on and explained what you've been reading, he felt himself fall even more. He was intently listening.

You had been reading a rom-com style, action book about two knights going on a quest to slay a dragon to break an evil curse. There were wizards and mystical forest creatures. Once you finished, you had asked if he wanted to read it once you were done.

Now...this wasn't really Iida's cup of tea. Don't get him wrong, he loves sitting and enjoying a book but fantasy books

aren't really his style.

  "So..? Would you want to read it? Ya' know, see for yourself?" The look in your eyes was absolutely adorable, he couldn't possibly say no.

    "S-Sure, I'd love to borrow it."

He wasn't too worried though, you still had a few chapters to go and surely you'd forget about it.

Boy was he wrong.

As he was getting ready for bed, the knock on his door confused him. Upon opening the door, there you stood in your pajamas

with the book tightly clutched in your hands.

    "Sorry I took so long but here you go. Let me know what you think." You had an excited smile playing on your lips.

    "Oh...thank you." He reached out and took the book from your outstretched grasp.

He read through the first chapter before going to bed, slightly intrigued.

It took him about a month to read, maybe a little longer since he definitely took breaks and focused more on school than anything...but eventually, he finished. 

You had been hanging out in the common room when Iida had walked in, book in hand. It took you a while to notice since  you had been buried in another . 

    “Oh, hey Iida!” Ochako grinned. 

You turned and took notice of what was in his possession and your smile grew.

    “You finished! What’d you think?” 

    “Uhm well, it was quite...quite interesting-” He was fumbling with his words, something that’s a bit unusual for him. 

    “Oh...you didn’t like it?” your face fell and his heart dropped a little.

    “No, no! What I mean is that-!”

    “It’s okay, you can be honest. It’s not for everyone.” 

    “I did like it but there’s something that I didn’t quite understand. Why would they risk leaving the magma gem? From my understanding, it would’ve given them the abilities needed to slay the dragon.” The complete and utter confusion on his face was adorable. 

    “Come on, Ingenium!” You chuckled quietly. “If they had gotten the gem, they wouldn’t have been able to save their partner. Remember, sometimes the best strategy is to run and get help instead of fighting a fight that you can’t win.” 

    “But they didn’t even slay the dragon!”

    “They didn’t because that wasn’t needed to break the curse. The only way to break the curse was with true love’s kiss.” 

    “That’s not very logical. How would that break a deadly curse?” 

    “Don’t underestimate the power of love, Iida. It’s quite strong.” 

Upon hearing those words he looked up from the book and into your eyes...had they always been that mesmerizing? His heart hammered in his chest as he parted his lips to speak once more. 

    “W-would you show me?” This was a big leap of faith for him. He had confided in Midoriya a while ago when he realized his feelings for you, and ever the observant one, Midoriya had a feeling that you felt the same way. There had been multiple times where he had caught you gazing longingly at the class rep. 

Now you...you were stunned. Your cheeks had flushed red and your mouth was agape. Taking your silence as a rejection, he swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head. 

    “I apologize, that was quite forward of me. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” He placed the book down on the couch and got up. Once he turned away from you, you had realized that the words in your head never left your mouth so you reached out and grabbed his wrist. 

        “Wait…” your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard you and turned back around. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I’m just surprised that you feel the same way I do.” 

There was a small silence that followed but your body seemed to move on its own. You held his face in your hands, the feeling of your thumbs gently caressing his cheekbones sent the butterflies into a frenzy. 

    “Can I still kiss you?” Your voice was hesitant, quiet, and it made him smile, gazing into your eyes with such a fondness that it made your stomach do flips. 

    “Yes...please.” 

That was all you needed before leaning in, his eyes and yours fluttered shut as your lips met. Both of you were unsure but he trusted you and you trusted him. The feeling of his lips moving languidly with yours was absolutely euphoric. He tasted like mint and black tea, and his lips were soft. Gaining confidence, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. 

After finally pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours. 

    “Believe it’s strong enough now?” 

    “Hmm…” His chest vibrated as he hummed in feign thoughtfulness. “I may need more convincing.”

[notkageyamasprincess]

embarrassing things about them | pt. ii

aoba johsai

request: Hey hey hey!!! Your crack hcs about embarassing karasuno sent me into another dimension 😆 when you get a chance, could you embarass seijoh next? PLS EMBARRASS THE SEIJOH 4 ITD BE SO FUNNY @wakeupsunshineee

request: i’m just here to say that i loved your “embarrassing things they do” headcanons 😭😭😭 had me giggling hehehe. would you please do one for seijoh? 🥺 @aiiishiiiteru

notes: my heart went ✨💓🥺 so happy that you guys are enjoying these so far n thank u for requesting! i hope i did them justice 🤧

genre/warnings: just pure crack

oikawa tōru

he did that “open sesame” thing in front of the automatic doors 👐

witnessed by a young mom with a child who were behind him when he was doing the motion

SMACKED the child in the face when he flung his arms outwards OHNO

HE STARTED CRYING the kid not him although he was also near tears

part deux just because he’s so embarrassing:

his nephew was drinking a pineapple juice box

all good right? until he squirted some onto his white pants

“i’m really sorry! wait... uncle, it kinda looks like you peed your pants!” “no it doesn’t, be quiet”

“HEY EVERYONE MY UNCLE JUST PEED HIS PANTS!”

matsukawa issei

sometimes just kinda…drifts off in thought in public

forgot his bag of groceries at the checkout once

usually not paying attention to store employees welcoming him into the store

“hi, how are you doing today?” “yeah”

also part deux bc i just had a thought:

got an unexpected boner in class and he was trying to cover it

the teacher thought he was looking down at his phone or something

wrestled with him until mattsun showed him what he had under his hands

well. it certainly wasn’t a phone, that’s for sure

hanamaki takahiro

late for school so he got dressed in a huge rush

he pulled on a pair of clean uniform pants from the laundry pile but oh, dear

he didn’t realize his older sister’s lace thong was trapped in one of the pantlegs

IT SLID OUT FROM THE LEG HOLE WHEN HE WAS WALKING TO HIS SEAT💀

a split second of relief that he made it on time and then ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE

“wow, i didn’t know you were that type of guy”

“oi, hanamaki, these yours?”

“interesting taste in undergarments”

“boy makin MOVES” “who’s the lucky lady?”

worst of all, the thong had to be confiscated by the homeroom teacher 🤠

iwaizumi hajime

this man is always so considerate to people in need on public transit

gives up his seat whenever he sees an elderly person or a mom

he gestured for a pregnant woman to take his seat

spoiler alert: she wasn’t pregnant ☹️

v v awkward rest of the train ride

yahaba shigeru

this guy tries hard to act smooth but he’s so far from it

keeps messing up his pick up lines

“are you a piece of art? ‘cause i’m at a museum.” “wait. shit, fuck, wrong order”

“did you just fall from heaven? because it looked like it hurt.” “what no, let me try again.” shigeru, you idiot

watari shinji

as a kid, his parents took him to the petting zoo and he really vibed with the baby chicks

wanted to hatch one on his own

took an egg out of the fridge and kept it in his sock drawer to keep it warm

brought it with him under the blankets when he slept

how long does it take for eggs to go bad?

“shinji, what’s that smell?” “it’s a surprise!” 😇😇

he rolled over in his sleep and CRUSHED THE EGG ☹️☹️☹️

THOUGHT HE MURDERED A CHICKEN

kyōtani kentarō

just filled up his lunch tray in the dining hall

he slipped and w h o o s h his feet just came right out from under him

exactly like how it looks in the cartoons

involuntarily YEETED his tray of food, that shit went flyin

THERE WERE SO MANY PEOPLE WHO SAW

he didn’t know what to do. should he act calm? laugh it off? YELL?

luckily, iwaizumi passed by and helped good senpai

kindaichi yūtarō

really nice and enthusiastic towards service workers, but responds to them on reflex

“here’s your order, enjoy your meal!” “thanks! you too”

“this is your room card, i hope you have a pleasant stay.” “likewise!”

“please hold on to your ticket, and have a wonderful ride.” “awesome, same to you!”

??? takes him a second for it to sink in ¿¿¿

kunimi akira

just minding his own business waiting for the bus

probably listening to music and looking at his phone

a little dog comes up to him, lifts its leg, and just STARTS PISSING ALL OVER HIM

must have mistaken him for a tree or something i guess 🙈

had to hold his pants very oddly during the bus ride to prevent the wet spots from sticking to his leg

stank up the whole vehicle; it was a warm day too

but guess what he was on his way home from the store because you asked him to buy some toiletries like lotion n tissues.

oh, also a single cucumber bc you “needed one for a sandwich”

while he was fuming on the bus ride, he finally figured out why the cashier was giving him weird looks. ah

he started sprinting as soon as he got off the bus, he wanted to make you PAY if you know what i mean

a/n: yes, i have experienced some of these DO NOT ASK ME IF THE EGG ONE IS LOOSELY BASED OFF OF MYSELF I WILL CRY and ty to franz for asking me to start a taglist! 💞✨next one should be inarizaki but keep the requests comin’ if there’s a school you want to see!

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

taglist: @sparkykatsuki

[yarichin-imagines]

I would love to be in a poly relationship with Jimmy and Yuri

Thank you so much for requesting! I didn’t know if you wanted a scenario or headcannons so I figured for right now, I’d do headcannons. If you want a scenario, or NSFW headcannons, let me know and I’ll gladly do them!

Poly relationship with Toru Fujisaki (Jimmy) and Ayato Yuri

So let’s start this out with how you met and got to know our good ol’ boy Yuri. It seems logical in my brain that he would be the first one you meet and actually have a friendship/relationship with between the two. Realistically, Toru would have an interest in whatever Yuri did. So if you weren’t involved with Yuri, chances are - Toru wouldn’t blink twice at you.

But any-who

Let’s sprinkle some of that fanfiction magic and say despite your gender or how you identify - you ended up at Morimori Academy. You fell from the sky like the angel you are. Or you climbed up from the depths of hell with a purpose. However you came, you ended up in the academy with your mind set on the photography club. Several of your classmates had hinted that you should join said club because its good for the entire school. 

So after joining the hot mess that is known as the photography club, you got the joy of laying eyes on the one and only Ayato Yuri. 

Your initial relationship with the pink haired sex maniac could go two ways depending on how you go about things. 

If your first response is to pull the same attitude as our lovely protagonist Toono, Yuri might find you interesting for only a small amount of time. If you don’t have much of an interest doing the horizontal tango, chances are that it might be a little difficult to form a bond with Yuri right off the bat. But if you’re resilient enough, and take time out of your day to hang out with him, he could grow attached to you very quickly.

Now let’s say you’re like me and would be an absolute HOE in this universe, Yuri would be itching to have a go with you. Your bond would be formed with the base being sex. And if you’re a switch, Yuri is gonna be star struck. In my opinion - it would be easier to form a bond with him this way because it’s an area of common ground while mixed with the chemicals that are released in your brain during sex. It makes him think about you in a very warm hearted way.

He finds himself wanting you to stay longer after each encounter the two of you have. You’d slide out of bed or off of any surface he decided was suitable for that tryst and begin to put your clothes on. And before you knew what was happening, he would be pulling you back to him and keep you by his side until he decides that the two of you probably need some kind of sustenance. 

You would know he was getting a soft spot for you if he began to appear more and more in the hours of your day to day life. Grabbing lunch in the cafeteria? He’s suddenly by your side probably stealing your dessert. Leaving your last class of the day? He’d already be outside, ready for a round in the sheets. 

The thing that would seal the deal for him and how he feels about you would be after you had a particularly rough session with another guy. You would be feeling pretty low since aftercare isn’t a thing of this universe apparently and your first thought would be to go to Yuri. Depending on what time of the day it is, you’d most likely find him in his room.

When he opens the door and sees you standing there covered in red marks with tears in your eyes, he would connect the dots pretty fast. We love our smart boy. 

I feel like he’d take a shower with you and wash you off. It’s his way of saying that whoever touched you - they are no longer on your skin. With Yuri, he shows he cares more than he tells you. He’s not quite good with words. He’d use his shower products and run the suds over every mark on your skin. He’d definitely was your hair too. 

Afterwards, he’d take you back to his dorm and bundle you up under his covers and watch your favorite movie with you on his phone. Of course you’d hardly be able to focus when he’s always leaning over begging for kisses.

But after you went to sleep, I definitely think he’d stare at you - his mind racing. I think it’s hard for Yuri to put things together (outside of schoolwork) so his mind would be racing all night with different thoughts. But in the end, I think he’d whisper in your ear as you slept that he would continue to protect you.

The next morning, you’d probably wake up alone. He doesn’t tend to sleep much or when he does, he’s a restless sleeper. So he’d most likely wake up long before you. 

But - as you’re getting dressed, you’d find one of his rings placed perfectly on one of your fingers. Now it’s your turn to connect the dots. I absolutely do not think Yuri would come right out and confess and ask you to date him. I don’t even think the two of you would have a basic run-of-the-mill relationship. I think the closest thing to what the two of you would have is on open relationship?

Yuri tends to do his own thing and he would expect you to do the same. Continue to be a hoe, he’d like that. But!! You’d be the only person that would be allowed to see him vulnerable or to sleep with him in his bed. That is something he would keep between the two of you.

Now when Toru comes into the picture, things would shift drastically. Initially, he would only find an interest in Yuri. If we continue down the plot of the manga, Yuri would still save him from the rooftop that fateful day. So of course Toru would take a liking to him.

From his stalking ways, he would soon find out that you were the only person going into Yuri’s room each and every night. That is what stirs the burning feeling of jealousy inside him. He wanted to be in your shoes. He wanted to be that close to Yuri.

One day after sneaking into Yuri’s room, he’d stay in there long enough to hear your giggles as Yuri pulls you into his room after dinner. He’d be the one to witness how Yuri let you take out his piercings to soak them in cleaner or how he would let you paint his nails. And from his place under the bed, he’d finally realize that whatever the two of you had, it was pure. 

When he saw how you’d take care of Yuri - physically as well as mentally and emotionally - that is when he started to look at you differently as well. Toru knows that he is not in the right head space and a small part of him starts to crave the warmth and affection that you give Yuri.

That is how his obsession with you began.

Yuri, being the smart cookie that he is, he would catch on very quickly to how Toru’s eyes drifted over you every time Yuri would look his way. And while many guys looked at you throughout the day, there was something different in Toru’s gaze. A longing that no other guy had.

Soon after Yuri began bumping uglies with Toru, he would begin to form a plan. If the way the other male stared at you had anything to do with how he felt, Yuri was going to sniff out whatever it was that Toru was feeling.

Yuri would definitely feel a little protective at first. He cares for you deeply and would not want anything to happen to you at the hands of Toru. 

But when he finds himself also starting to care for the blushing man, he would feel conflicted. All his plans would quickly fall apart as a sense of fear and paranoia filled his mind. It is never in his intentions to hurt you and he feels that Toru having a place in his heart would really bring you down. He knows that you are okay with all of his other sexual escapades simply because you know Yuri does not care for them. But sleeping with Toru while he has feelings for him - Yuri would view that as betraying you in a way.

But you on the other hand - had taken an interest in Toru as well.

His heart almost stopped when he joined you for lunch one day and found you laughing and talking with Toru. When he sat down, you turned to him and almost out of the blue - you asked him if the dark haired male could join you in the bedroom one night. When Yuri nodded, you simply cheered and went back to talking to Toru.

After several interesting nights with the two of them, you could see how Yuri reacted to the other male. It was almost how he started with you. You knew that Yuri would never purposely hurt you. But you could also see what drew Yuri to him in the first place. Toru was a shy boy, never really knowing how to voice his emotions without crying. You felt the pull towards him as well in terms of wanting to care for him. And the sex was always great - that was a bonus.

The more you watched the two of them interact - the more your heart warmed. There was no way you could split them apart. When you entered Yuri’s dorm one night to find him putting Toru in a chokehold with his thighs - simply because Toru wouldn’t let Yuri pierce his ears. And with that, your decision was final.

After an intense round one night, you lay snuggled between the two as you all attempted to catch your breath. There was such a serene quiet over the room that you figured now would be the best time to confront the two about their feelings. So as you played with Toru’s hair as he rested his head on your chest, you craned your neck to look at Yuri where he lay spread out towards the end of bed - his head on your thigh. 

When you confess to knowing about how they feel about each other, both of them would suddenly be on high alert. Yuri would be scared that you were about to leave him and Toru was scared that he might get his ass beat. But when you confess that you like the both of them too and wanted to stay like this with them for a while, they both would look at each other before smiling widely.

It feels good to be accepted for who you are and what you love so when you validate their feelings, they will be on cloud nine.

And tbh, the three of you would be the school power poly couple. I don’t think anyone would mess with you considering Toru would literally fly out of nowhere - ready to beat some ass for you. And Yuri would be the life of the relationship, never letting there be a dull moment.

And now I am going to go cry in the corner because I know I will never get this. Ever.

I hope you enjoyed! I got really caught up in how the relationship came to be and not enough on the dating aspects if the three of you were already together. So if you want a continuation, do not hesitate to send a request in!

- Admin Pinky

[kimjoongs-main]

golden kiss ; ml

— 「friends-to-lovers!mark au」

—「13.7k words」

—「warning(s): cursing」

—「fluff/angst」

The world was always so dull and filled with various shades of blue and gray. Once in a while, you’d see a flash of green or a splash of orange, but they never lingered. You always wondered what gold looked like. 

You would never forget the first time you saw a rainbow. The rain had just begun to dissipate, leaving a single ray of sunshine in its wake. You were around five (maybe six?) years old at the time, accompanying your mother during her weekly grocery runs. You walked out of the store, your grubby little fingers gently grasped in her dainty ones.

You took a quick glance at the sky, letting out a quiet, yet excited, gasp. You frantically shook your mother’s arm and pointed upward, bouncing on the tips of your toes.

“Mommy, look! Do you see that? It’s so pretty!”

Endeared by the vibrant look on your face, your mother simply smiled, kneeling down so the two of you were the same height. She laid a gentle hand on your cheek, tenderly caressing your rough cheeks. She also noticed a streak of brown near the corner of your lips—it was most likely chocolate.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. Her husband must have given you a piece after she made it clear he wasn’t supposed to.

She opened them.

Gold.

“Yes, it’s very pretty,” she said with a chuckle.”Very colorful, right?”

You nodded happily, gaze still locked on the pattern of vibrant shades streaked across the otherwise dull sky.

“Do you know which one is my favorite?” your mother asked, tugging your small body closer so that you rested on her thigh. You tore your eyes away from the rainbow for just a moment to shake your head.

She pointed up to the sky and leaned forward. “That one. The orange one.”

You followed where she was pointing at, and you tilted your head to the side.

“Why?” you asked her curiously. Your mother smiled again, shifting you on her leg so that she could place a gentle kiss on your forehead. She closed her eyes, and then opened them once again.

Orange.

“Because it’s the color I see whenever I look at you.”

— — —

Perhaps you should’ve been more prudent, more self-aware. As of late, it seemed as if the world found joy in making sure your life was as dull and drab as it could possibly be. In short, you were tired—tired of seeing the same shades of blue, some lighter and some darker than others. At times, if you were unlucky enough, you’d see gray pop up here and there.

It was becoming ridiculous at this point.

You had no one to blame but yourself, really. You brought this upon yourself, and the only way you were going to get out of it was to stop being so...so…

Hopeful.

Maybe if you were more closed off, more indifferent, then the world would eventually grow bored at your lack of emotion. Maybe it would stop, and you could clear the dullness on your own. It had reached a point where you had almost forgotten what green or red looked like.

Almost.

“Y/n, if you keep dozing off like that someone is going to steal that pizza off your plate, and it’s going to be me.” Renjun poked your cheek sharply, drawing his hand back with a satisfied smirk when you swatted him away with a huff. From beside you, Jaemin snickered.

“I wouldn’t if I were you, Renjun,” he said, swinging his arm around your shoulder. “Remember when Mark ate one of her tater tots? I thought I was about to witness a murder.”

You rolled your eyes, shrugging off his arm and taking a bite out of your pizza, sending Renjun a warning glare. He responded by sticking his tongue out at you, proceeding to take a bite out of his lunch. From where you were sitting, you could just barely see Jeno and Mark who were seated diagonally from you. The two of them were hunched over the table, watching something (most likely a video) on Mark’s phone. They would occasionally laugh, sometimes a little too loudly, warranting a harsh glare from the table next to yours.

Renjun and Jaemin had taken to conversing calmly with each other, talking about some assignment that was supposed to be due in three weeks. You had just returned from the library, exhausted and emotionally drained. If any of your friends noticed the bags underneath your eyes, they didn’t voice it.

You almost kind of wished they had. At the very least, it would’ve taken your attention away from the cloudy shades that plagued your sight every time you blinked.

You were just so tired.

“Hey, does anyone know where Donghyuck is?” Jeno asked, finally looking up from the phone, a frown pulling at his lips. “He never misses lunch.”

And as if on cue, the door to the cafeteria burst open, and in came in the man of the hour. Donghyuck had the biggest grin on his face—which wasn’t unusual—but you could tell from the second he ran in that this was different.

And if you weren’t so out of it, you might have noticed the patch of green appearing in the corner of your eyes. Even so, you couldn’t help the small smile that creeped up on your face. Apparently, the others couldn’t either, judging from the way they all collectively let out a breathy chuckle.

Donghyuck’s happiness was infectious to say the least.

“Guys! Guys, you’ll never believe what just happened!” he exclaimed, stopping just before his body slammed into the table. The boy was practically vibrating with excitement. You shook your head playfully and reached out, grabbing onto Donghyuck’s sleeve and tugging him down so he was sitting next to you.

“Calm down before you hurt yourself,” you snorted, patting his shoulder. “What happened?”

“Okay, so you know how Hana and I went on a date last night?”

The entire table nodded. You saw Renjun smirk.

“Well, everything was going super well, and at the end of the night I…” he trailed off, choosing to cover his face with his hands and proceeding to scream into them. The others groaned, urging him to just spit it out.

“You what? Come on Hyuck, you can’t just leave us hanging like–”

“I told her I loved her.”

You froze.

Jeno’s jaw dropped so low, you were afraid he was going to bump it on the table. Jaemin choked on a bite of pizza. Renjun tried to discreetly, but unsuccessfully, hide his growing smirk behind his hand. Mark just looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Blissfully unaware of your reactions to the bomb he had just dropped, Donghyuck continued.

You almost wished he hadn’t.

“And I saw it. I saw–I saw gold,” he breathed as he gripped the edge of the table tightly.

And it was odd—the feeling deep inside your chest. You didn’t know what it was, but you knew it hurt.

It hurt so much.

Now that probably sounded ridiculous. One of your best friends just revealed that he emptied his heart out to someone, and you were sitting there, feeling completely and utterly crushed? Honestly, what right did you have to feel that way? Especially now, of all times? Fuck, maybe you were more tired than you thought.

Jaemin was the first to break the silence. “Holy shit! How did it feel? Was it better than everyone says it is? Dude, come on–you have to tell us everything!”

By now the entire table—save for you and Mark—were engaged in a full blown conversation. You wanted to congratulate him, tell him that you were happy for him. And you were. You were really, truly happy for him. Everyone deserved to know what being in love and seeing love felt like.

But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how hard you looked, you couldn’t find a trace of green anywhere.

No, no. You were just being selfish. Yeah, that’s what he said earlier—wasn’t it? He accused you of being selfish, of being unable to feel for him what he felt for you. But you knew he was wrong. You knew there was no way that what he felt for you was worth the same as...the same as seeing it.

But how could you be so sure? You’ve never seen it. You’ve never felt it. You were just basing everything off of blind faith.

But you held onto that hope.

Like an idiot.

You knew it was unfair. You knew it wasn’t true.

Suddenly, your phone chimed, and your gaze flickered over to it. Mark had sent you a text message. You looked up—the others were still engrossed in their conversation; Donghyuck practically had hearts floating around his head. You grabbed your phone, peering at the text.

[Are you okay?]

You almost snorted, but held it in. Honestly, this shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you. If anyone was perceptive enough to sense that something was wrong, it was Mark. But even more so since it was you. His best friend since elementary school. His partner in crime. You couldn’t remember a time where Mark was never there for you. He was your rock.

[I’ll tell you later]

[Okay :((]

[Are we still on for tonight?]

[Are you still paying for the food?]

You scoffed, hiding the playful grin on your lips by biting your thumb.

[Only if you’re driving]

Now it was Mark’s turn to scoff. From across the table, you saw him set his phone down. He picked up a french fry from his tray, sticking his tongue out at you. That caused you to laugh as you put your own phone down, leaning forward and resting your head into your palm. You listened on as Donghyuck continued his heartfelt ramblings.

The way your heart clenched whenever he said that word did not go unnoticed by you, but you swallowed the lump forming in your throat, choosing to tolerate it for now. Your eyes locked with Mark’s, and he flashed you a gentle smile.

A spark of—

Suddenly, you weren’t so tired anymore.

— — —

Mark was seven when he saw you, the new student and also his classmate, sitting alone at recess.

He planted his feet firmly on the ground, wincing when they dragged across the hot sand, and he stared at you curiously for a minute.

You were sitting against the trunk of a tree, head buried in your knees and arms wrapped around your head. From where Mark was perched on the swings, he couldn’t tell if you were crying or not.

Mark waited another moment, watching you carefully, before he hesitantly stood up and walked over to you. He wasn’t the most sociable child, but regardless, he didn’t like the fact that you were on your own. Mark stood next to your hunched figure for a second before he squatted down.

“Are you okay?”

Mark didn’t know how you were going to react, but he wasn’t expecting you to flinch away from him, letting out a startled shriek and pushing yourself back into the tree. You had raised your head, and Mark could see a tinge of red coloring the corners of your eyes.

You were crying.

Instinctively, Mark raised his hands up, palms facing towards you. He straightened himself out—not so much so that he was standing, but just enough so that he was still bent at the waist. He saw the way your hands clenched, nails digging into the soil.

“Sorry, sorry!” he exclaimed, taking a small step back. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just– you were all alone so I thought you maybe...wanted a–a friend?”

You just stared at him, not saying a word, and Mark began to shuffle his feet uncomfortably. Slowly, he extended one of his hands towards you. You flinched away again, but not as aggressively—eyeing his outstretched hand skeptically.

“W-Who..?” you whispered so quietly, unsure if he had even heard you, but he did.

“My name’s Mark,” he responded with a gentle smile. “You’re new, right? I’m in your class. It’s nice to meet you.”

You frowned slightly, brows furrowed as you tried to remember his face. It was all just a blur to you; that morning was rough and exhausting, and you just wanted to forget about it. But for some reason, the longer you continued to look at the boy in front you, the better you felt.

The blue was still there. A lot of it.

But you couldn’t deny noticing the white, hazy shade gradually starting to take over.

And your chest felt lighter.

Mark’s hand was still hanging between the two of you, waiting to either be pulled back or tugged forward. He chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. He could see that you were still a bit apprehensive, but he didn’t want to pull his hand away too soon.

And sure enough, slowly but surely, you lifted your hand up and carefully placed it in his own, fingers curling around his palm. Mark smiled, a genuine one, and he shook your hand, firmly but gently.

“I’m Y/n,” you said softly, sniffling. You were no longer crying, and the tears tracks on your cheeks were now considerably dry. Mark took that as a good sign. He crouched down again, making sure to maintain a comfortable distance between the two of you.

You had shifted so that your body wasn’t pressed against the tree anymore. Your knees were still pulled up to your chest, but you didn’t hide your face in them anymore. Instead, you chose to focus your attention at the ground, picking at the blades of grass and tugging them out of the soil.

Now that you had gotten over your initial shock, you didn’t quite know what else to say. You weren’t really expecting anyone, let alone a fellow classmate, to come over and talk to you. Everyone else was running around, playing with their friends, too indulged in their own friendships to even notice that you were alone.

You didn’t blame them though.

You didn’t want to be the new kid. Being the new kid meant having to start from scratch, having to relearn everything. Being the new kid meant change; you didn’t like change. Your parents knew that. They knew you better than anyone.

So why did they—

“Um, do...do you wanna go play on the swings with me?” Mark asked suddenly. Your head whipped at, eyes wide, and he pointed to the other end of the playground.

“You–You want me to play with you?” you trailed off at the end, hesitant and unsure. Mark nodded his head quickly, the small tufts of his hair covering almost the entire upper half of his face. He had this look on him—he wasn’t smiling—but you could tell he was being genuine.

He stood up, brushing the dirt off of his pants, and he extended his hand out to you again.

“We’re friends now, aren’t we? Friends play together.”

Friends.

He called you his friend.

You liked how that sounded.

Fading blue.

“Y/n?” Mark stood there expectantly, hand inching closer. Truthfully, he didn’t want to rush you, but recess was ending soon and he really, really wanted to go on the swings again before someone else took it.

“Uh, y-yeah. Okay.”

Unlike before, you weren’t quite as hesitant to take Mark’s hand this time. You allowed him to pull you up and drag you over to the swing set. Mark sat in one and you in the other.

The two of you spent the rest of the recess time swinging, and as time passed, it became difficult for you to wipe the huge grin off your face. Next to you, Mark was having the time of his life, giggling as his body flew upwards and shrieking as he was brought back down. His laughter was contagious, and you fortunately fell victim to it, allowing giggles of your own to slip from your lips.

Blue.

Blue?

Green.

A short while later, the teachers came out and rallied everyone up, telling them to go inside and pack their backpacks since it was time to go home. Once you and Mark were safely back in the classroom and all packed up, he asked if you wanted to play with him again tomorrow.

You said yes.

And true to your word, you and Mark met up at the swings again the next day.

And the next day.

And the next day.

And the next day.

When your mom would pick you up from school, you would animatedly tell her about your new friend—to which she would respond by petting your hair affectionately. She told you that you should invite him over one day for a playdate, and you practically beamed.

Green. So much green.

Pretty soon, your school playdates with Mark started extending outside of school. Then those playdates turned into sleepovers, which turned into staying over for days on end.

Your friendship with Mark started off at an odd place. Strangely enough, after your first encounter, he never asked you again why you were crying.

But he didn’t have to.

He figured it out eventually.

He met your mom. He didn’t meet your dad.

That was okay. You didn’t want him to anyway.

As the days, weeks, months, years went by, your bond with Mark only grew stronger. The two of you became inseparable in no time. After leaving elementary, you started middle school together, and then you moved on to high school.

You enjoyed being around Mark. He was always there to cheer you on and hype you up whenever you needed it. Over time, you watched as Mark became more and more sociable, attracting people to him like moths to a lamp. It didn’t surprise you in the slightest. If Mark Lee could manage to charm you—a sniffling, snotty-nosed seven year old—then he could charm pretty much anyone.

His social circle was continuous, always expanding, eventually creating knots and kinks along the way. It was quite overwhelming. Whenever Mark was around his friends, he felt like he was being pulled and dragged every which way—he couldn’t catch his breath. Sometimes it felt like he was trapped in a maze with all of the exits closed off, and Mark was tired of running around. The circle was endless.

But you weren’t.

No matter how many friends Mark made, no matter how many people craved his attention, no matter how much he ran—he always found his way back to you.

And you were always there, sitting at the swings, waiting for him with the biggest smile on your face. He felt like he could breathe again.

And for the longest time, all you saw was green.

And for the longest time, all he saw was…

— — —

“Rough day?” Your mother raised an eyebrow when she saw you walk in, tossing your backpack onto the couch with a huff.

You trudged over to where she was sitting at the kitchen table, tugging your jacket off and plopping down in a chair. Your mother offered you a gentle smile and slid one of two cups that were resting next to her elbow over to you. You peered inside.

It was a cup of tea.

And it was still warm.

You almost cried.

Your mother waited patiently as you sipped on your tea, turning to face the kitchen window and admiring the flowers that were growing in the flower bed. She recently obtained a newfound love for marigolds, and planted them wherever she could see an empty spot of soil.

You chose not to question it.

“He broke up with me this morning.”

Your mother paused for a moment, eyes still locked on the window. You set your mug down, circling your finger along the rim. The steam from the tea hit your skin, providing you with a split second of warmth—a stark contrast to the chill that has been plaguing your mind, body, and soul all day.

You didn’t feel tired anymore, for some strange reason.

After a moment of just complete silence, your mother turned to you. The corners of her eyes were slightly downturned, and from this angle you could just make out the fine wrinkles underneath her lower lashes. It pained you to see them.

Your mother used to laugh a lot, and when she did, you would always see the crinkles in the corners of her eyes scrunch up. It was one of, if not, your favorite thing about her.

“And how are you feeling?” she asked, softly but clearly. She didn’t need to bother with the formalities of comfort right now, which you appreciated. Getting straight to the point sometimes proved to be more beneficial rather than delaying the inevitable.

You snorted. “Would you laugh if I said blue?”

Her eyes softened, and she reached out, laying her hand over yours, stroking it with her thumb. It was a gesture you grew to love; you always tried to offer it to others. Your mother stayed quiet, allowing you to continue.

“I just–I don’t know what to do about it, Mom. It’s not that I’m desperate or anything, but I just—” you took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts. “When you start seeing the same thing over and over and over again…”

So much blue. So much fucking blue.

“...you become sick of it.”

You’ve had your fair share of romantic relationships, with each of them ending on an even worse note than the previous one. Every heartbreak brought in a new shade, a deeper one. You’ve never seen so much of it in your life. And yes, from time to time a splash of pink or a sparkle of orange would pop up, as if to remind you that they haven’t left. They were still there.

But you grew sick of them too. You just wanted something else, something different.

You took a glance at your mother, studying her expression. Her gaze was still soft, but her mouth was curved downwards. Her thumb still stroked your hand, and she squeezed tightly every now and then. You wondered what she could see right now. What spot in the spectrum was appearing before her eyes right now?

You were always too hesitant to ask, scared that you would bestow the same gloom upon her that had been bestowed upon you.

But you didn’t know how else to get your answers.

So you took a risk.

“What’s it like?” you pleaded, albeit a little reluctantly. “What does...What does gold feel like?”

You internally winced when your mother visibly stiffened, caught off guard by the sudden question. She clearly had not been expecting you to ask that.

“I’m sorry!” you interjected before she could say anything. “That was insensitive, I shouldn’t have asked. Forget about it, you don’t need to—”

“It’s the best thing you could ever hope to feel.”

You shut your mouth at your mother’s words. Her hand was no longer on yours, pulled back and resting in front of her. She wasn’t looking at you anymore either. Your heart was practically resting in your stomach.

“The first time I saw it, I was overwhelmed,” she continued. “It was such a bright color—so vibrant and so grandiose. I knew right then and there that that was something I wanted to hold onto for the rest of my life. It almost felt..wrong–like someone as mundane as me should not have been allowed to experience it.”

She gave you a smile. Her eyes didn’t crinkle.

But you knew it was genuine.

“And I can’t wait for you to see it, one day.”

Your breath hitched.

How did she do that? How was she able to have so much faith, so much hope, in you? All hope ever brought you were false promises and broken hearts. Hope was the reason you were drowning in this dull, dark haze, wishing for someone to reach in and pull you out.

Yet here she was, gazing at you with enough faith and hope to last a lifetime.

And for a second, you almost believed her.

— — —

You checked the time.

7:49 p.m.

Mark had been gone for about fifteen minutes. You sighed, tossing your phone onto the grass. You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him to be hasty. Knowing him, he was probably making conversation with the cashier, asking him about their day.

Or maybe he saw a dog on his way back and spent five minutes just petting it—

Well, actually you wouldn’t blame him for that one.

But still, you were cold and hungry and if Mark didn’t appear in the next five minutes, you were going to—

“Sorry, sorry!” came Mark’s apologetic voice. “I couldn’t decide which milk tea I wanted, so I was standing there for like ten minutes just staring at the menu.”

Mark came dashing over to where you were perched on the grass, holding your drinks in one hand (how he managed to carry two cups in one hand was beyond you) and two wax paper bags in the other. When he arrived at your little rendezvous point, he promptly plopped down, handing you your respective drink and pastry. You smiled at him, glad to be able to satiate the hunger that’s been knocking you down all afternoon.

You kind of regretted rejecting your mom’s offer to fetch you a snack earlier.

“Why does that not surprise me?” you mused, taking your chocolate croissant out of the bag and biting into it.

“I mean, technically it’s also your fault I took so long,” Mark countered, biting into his cinnamon bun. “You know I get distracted easily. Maybe you should’ve been the one to go inside.”

“Either way, I still would’ve had to wait while your ass jumped back and forth between the tapioca or the poppers—speaking of, you owe me fifteen dollars for the food.”

“Wha—” Mark sputtered. “You said me driving us here would be considered payment!”

You smirked. “Well, maybe you should’ve thought of that before you made me wait out here in the cold for fifteen minutes.”

You dodged the small piece of cinnamon bun that came your way, a soft shriek leaving your lips. Mark sent you a glare, but there was nothing harsh about it. You stuck your tongue out at him, giggling quietly.

This was nice. Ever since finals season started, it was hard for you and Mark to meet up. Well, actually you guys did meet up a lot, but it was mostly at the library where the two of you ended up burying yourselves beneath a pile of textbooks and ten cups of coffee. You never really had the luxury to just hang out, just the two of you.

Especially since you were also occupied with your relationship—

Blue.

Fuck.

You groaned, setting your croissant down and rubbing your cheek in frustration. Everything was going so well.

“Is the croissant that bad?” Mark teased, his nose scrunching.

You sighed. “Nope, I’m just an idiot.”

Mark hummed. “Yeah, you are. What’s new?”

You hit him on the shoulder, unamused. He just laughed.

“Kidding, kidding,” he held his hands up in surrender. “Now, what’s wrong? You were looking a bit down earlier too.”

You shifted around so that one leg was resting Mark’s lap, and the other was bent towards you. You leaned back, resting your torso against the base of the lamppost. You took a few seconds to recollect your thoughts, sorting through what you wanted to say and what you wanted to keep to yourself. Meanwhile, Mark took it upon himself to fiddle with your shoelaces, untying them and sticking them inside your shoe. He didn’t prompt you.

He never did.

The two of you could sit there for hours—you refusing to say a word, deciding last minute that you didn’t want to reveal anything, and Mark would be none the wiser.

It was yet another part of his character that you adored. Mark never forced anyone to abide by his means, even if he was dying to know. It just wasn’t like him. He respected people’s boundaries and would much rather eat dirt than ever impose himself on anyone—especially you.

You remember him telling you a few years ago, back when the two of you were still in middle school, that if he ever forced you to say or do anything that you would slap him across the face. Of course, hearing that horrified you (because you would also rather eat dirt than inflict any harm, emotional or physical, on your best friend), but you promised him anyway.

To this day, Mark’s kept that streak going, and he wasn’t willing to screw it up now.

“So, you know Jun, right?” You mentally facepalmed. Of course he knew who Jun was; you spent six months gushing about him—

“Yeah, your boyfriend,” Mark responded, still playing with your shoelaces with a certain fascination you couldn’t understand.

You winced. “Uh...ex-boyfriend, actually. He broke up with me this morning.”

Mark finally looked up, eyes wide. “Really? What happened? I thought things were going great—”

“They were,” you interrupted, biting your bottom lip nervously. “Well, at least I thought they were.”

“What did he say?”

You sighed once more, tilting your head back to gaze up at the sky. If you were in a different situation, you might have made a comment about how pretty the stars looked (and they were very pretty).

But tonight wasn’t the night.

“Um, I’m not really sure?” you admitted sheepishly, eyes downcast. “The last thing I remember was him saying that he couldn’t do this anymore, and that I...I…”

Your throat tightened.

Mark brought his head down and peered at your face, contorted into one that displayed obvious concern.

“You what?” he coaxed.

It was weird. You had never felt so strongly about a breakup before. Sure, you were heartbroken, but it never resorted to anything more than you taking an angry nap or eating your feelings away. Could you even call that heartbroken? You didn’t know.

But what you did know, was that your vision was suddenly blurry. Hot tears stung at the corners of your eyes, threatening to drip down should you make one wrong move. You almost wanted to hit yourself.

This was supposed to be a fun night out with your best friend, whom you haven’t the pleasure of being around for more than an hour at most—and you were sitting here, crying over some boy who will most likely never acknowledge you ever again. You were stupid. You were so stupid. You had never let this get to you this deeply before, why now? Of all times, why did you suddenly think that now was the best time to release your woes?

Or maybe, none of this was ever in your control in the first place. Maybe your body just decided enough was enough and took a risk—throwing itself into a hole with no knowledge that there was going to be some form of a safety net waiting at the bottom. Everything felt like it was on autopilot, and you were stumbling, trying to regain control, but you just kept falling, falling, falling—

And there was so much blue. So much fucking blue. So much of it you couldn’t breathe. You just wanted it to go away and never fucking come back because you were sick and tired and over it and—

“Y/n? Y/n!” Mark shot up quickly, scrambling over to your hunched figure.

You had suddenly burst into tears, and your first instinct was to curl up into a ball. Your knees were tucked close to your chest, head buried deep into them and arms tightly wrapped around yourself. A series of sobs fell from your lips, some quiet and some loud, and your eyes were clenched shut, trying (and failing) to keep the tears at bay. There was a heavy pressure, dragging you down farther and farther, refusing to let up.

It felt like you were seven years old again, crouched next to a tree and crying. Crying because you were the new kid. Crying because your parents fought that morning. Crying because no one wanted to be your friend. Crying because you were all alone.

You weren’t crying over him. No, not anymore. This was different.

This was personal.

Mark could tell that much.

His hands hovered over you, hesitant and unsure. Mark comforting you while you cried wasn’t unusual, but he hadn’t expected you to break down so suddenly—so he was currently stuck in a gray area. Eventually, he couldn’t handle the sounds of your sobbing any longer, so he did the first thing that came to his mind.

Mark carefully grasped your wrists, gently unwrapping them from where they were tightly wound around your head. He paused for a second, checking to see if you were going to resist, then tugged you towards him when there was no response from you. Mark sat back, allowing you to fall into his chest, his arms coming up and enclosing themselves around your shaking figure. One arm cradled your head while the other was thrown around your waist. You buried your face in Mark’s neck, salty tears soaking the collar of his hoodie.

You didn’t know what was happening.

All you knew was that your best friend was there, raw and real.

Your fingers gripped the back of his hoodie so tightly, you almost tore the fabric. You felt Mark’s fingers stroking your hair softly, occasionally massaging the base of your scalp. Your throat ached so badly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop the onslaught of cries that left your lips.

And for the next ten, fifteen minutes or so, the two of you just stayed where you were. Neither of you needed to move nor wanted to.

If you found comfort and healing lying on top of Mark with his arms squeezing you so, so tightly, then who was he to rob that of you?

And only when your heaving sobs died down and turned into weak hiccups, did he slowly remove his arm from your waist. He kept one arm around your upper back, his thumb rubbing your shoulder. You sniffled a few more times before turning your head so that it was no longer hiding in Mark’s neck.

You refused to open your eyes, afraid that you were going to see it again.

So you kept them shut.

“Y/n?” Mark said your name so lightly, you probably wouldn’t have heard it if your ear wasn’t right next to his mouth. “What...What was that?”

His tone wasn’t accusing, but confused. So innocently confused.

You exhaled shakily. Mark held you tighter.

“Blue,” you breathed out. Mark gazed down at you, puzzled.

“Blue? What does—”

“It’s all I can see,” you muttered weakly. “Every time I blink, when I wake up in the morning, before I go to bed at night–it’s all I can see. Nothing else, just...blue.”

The only other person who knew about your dilemma was your mom. You never told anyone else about it. Not even Mark.

Until now that is.

You didn’t have a particular reason—it just didn’t come up before.This poses the question: if you hadn’t reacted the way you did earlier, would you have told him? The answer should be obvious; you never shied away from spilling even your darkest, deepest secrets to Mark. Anything you said was met with no judgement nor scorn, just warmth and understanding.

That’s who Mark was. Warm and understanding.

So it didn’t come as a shock to you when others found themselves utterly charmed by his pure nature. You weren’t the only who was romantically involved with another person. Mark has had some dating experience tucked under his belt.

Your stomach churned at the thought, and the sensation that suddenly spread across your chest was burning. Stinging. If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought there were needles pricking into your skin, piercing through and coming into contact with your heart—so fragile, so vulnerable.

You were so foolish. Mark was always understanding of your hardships, but how could you expect him to be understanding about this? This was your best friend you were talking about.

Sweet, kind-hearted, gentle, Mark Lee.

Surely, at some point, he must have felt it too.

“Can...Can I ask you something?” you mumbled, worn out. You felt Mark nod, his chin resting on top of your head.

“Anything.”

“Have you ever seen gold?”

— — –

And for the longest time, all he saw was gold.

However, unlike everyone else, his was more gradual, so gradual he almost didn’t notice it at first.

But it was there.

When you ran into Mark’s arms, tackling him in a hug on the first day of middle school, it was there. When you messed around in Mark’s bathroom during a sleepover, dancing in front of the mirror and pretending you could sing, it was there. When you sent memes to his phone at three in the morning, saying it reminded you of him, it was there. When you asked him to be your date to homecoming freshman year, surprising him with a poster and a stuffed lion, it was there. When you smiled at him, it was there.

Just tiny specks of light, floating around here and there.

It wasn’t until the end of your junior year did he finally realize what it was.

You had both decided to ditch your pathetic attempts at cramming for the final exam, opting to go to the playground instead. Luckily for you, it was only a stone’s throw away from the library. As soon as you stepped foot on the sand, you bolted for the swings with Mark not too far behind you.

For a few hours, it was just the two of you, swinging on the swings like a couple of kids. Neither of you held anything back. It was just pure, unadulterated fun.

And when you flung yourself off the swings for probably the tenth time that night, landing and rolling around on the ground, crevices alight and twinkling laughter escaping your lips, it shone brighter than it ever had before.

It was as if an explosion had gone off in Mark’s head, flooding his vision with the most celestial shade of metallic luster—so vibrant, so inviting, so extravagant, yet so tender and intimate at the same time. He could feel his heart pounding, beating against his chest like a prisoner wanting to escape.

And just like how the specks gradually grew, molding into something substantial, something beautiful, it was made alarmingly clear.

Mark Lee.

Sweet, kind-hearted, gentle, Mark Lee…

...was hopelessly in love with you.

— — —

You didn’t know what you were expecting to feel when Mark finally answered your question.

But you certainly weren’t expecting it to feel like a slap across the face.

“Yeah, I have.”

When you arrived home later that night, eyes tinged red and blurred with fresh tears, your mother said nothing and led you straight to bed.

— — —

When Mark arrived home later that night, heart heavy and mind racing, he slumped down in his desk chair, running a hand through his hair. He sighed tiredly.

On the corner of his desk stood a picture frame. It was a photo of the two of you during an outing with the rest of the gang. You were on Mark’s back, arms wrapped tightly around his neck with the brightest grin on your face, and Mark was holding you up, face contorted into his own form of happiness—eyes tightly shut and mouth open mid-laugh. Jaemin had taken it.

Mark laughed, broken and weak.

“Blue, huh?”

— — —

The weekend passed. You didn’t leave the house.

It was Monday. You didn’t go to school.

Your phone kept going off the entire day, flooded with messages ranging from light-hearted to concerned.

Donghyuck: [Skipping today? Tsk, tsk. I thought I raised you better than this, Y/n.]

Renjun: [I can’t believe you left me alone with Donghyuck and Jaemin.]

Jeno: [Y/nnn :( I miss you]

Jaemin: [Hey, is everything ok?]

Renjun: [You good?]

Donghyuck: [Y/n, please respond when you can, just let us know you’re still alive. Jaemin won’t stop panicking.]

No texts from Mark—that didn’t surprise you in the slightest. The last time you saw each other, it ended on a really strained note. After Mark’s revelation, the mood noticeably dropped, and for the first time in your life, being around him felt suffocating.

Your first instinct was to immediately push him away and stand up, quietly suggesting that it was late and the two of you should head home. You refused to look at him the whole way back.

It’s not that you were upset with him, no. Frankly, you were a hot mess and needed some time alone to sift through what’s been floating around inside your mind and to come to terms with the harsh reality.

The blue stayed.

When you woke up the morning after your outing with Mark, you were horrified at the sight of cerulean still present. You had scrambled out of bed, practically tripping over your own feet as you stumbled your way to your mother’s room, throwing yourself onto her lap.

You spent the entire morning and afternoon in her arms. She never complained.

You cried more the next day.

The blue stayed.

You didn’t cry today.

The blue stayed.

You wanted to.

The blue stayed.

But you didn’t.

The blue stayed.

Maybe your ex was right. Maybe you were selfish. You wanted to know what love felt like for so long, but when you’re given the opportunity to, you don’t take it. Then you complain. You were selfish. You were so selfish.

You are selfish.

Selfish.

Selfish.

Selfish.

Sel—

“Y/n?” Your mother poked her head into the room, eyes darting until they settled on your form wrapped tightly in a mountain of blankets. You blinked, confused, and glanced at the clock next to your bed. Your eyes almost bulged out of their sockets when you saw that it was almost seven o’clock at night.

Were you really in bed the whole day?

“Dinner’s ready. Go wash up and come downstairs, okay?”

Now you’d be lying if you said that the smell of your mother’s cooking didn’t automatically lift up your spirits. If the feeling could be compared, it would be like receiving a much needed hug after a particularly bad day—it’s always the little pieces of happiness that have the largest impact.

Unfortunately for you, no amount of happiness (little or otherwise) was capable of effacing even an inch of the azure canvas before you. It served as a grim reminder of all the pain and loneliness you subjected yourself to, and it only became worse from that point on.

You were blue personified. You weren’t like your friends who embodied shades much brighter than you will ever hope to experience.

Donghyuck was a bright orange; he brought unrestrained strength with him wherever he went. He was the glowing embers in a dying fire—refusing to put out and providing just enough guidance and solidarity to those who needed it.

Renjun was a deep scarlet; his greatest weapon was his sharp tongue and even sharper wit. He was the faint rouge on unsuspecting cheeks���prying into the minds of those poor souls who dared to cross him or the people he held near and dear to his heart.

Jaemin was a vibrant pink; his love language consisted of tender touches and whispered affirmations. He was the sugary taste of melted sweets—casting a spell upon those who have only ever known bitterness and distrust.

Jeno was a dazzling white; he surrounded himself with nothing but pureness and wholesome adoration. He was the moon on a dark, stormy night—creating a path for those who found themselves trapped within the cage of loneliness and despair.

Mark was…

Mark was a combination of every color known to man. He fit everyone’s color palette—no matter how picky theirs were. He was the lush shade of verdant grass in a painting of a meadow. He was the lively pop of lavender in a cave of coal and rubble. He was the dazzling blink of gold, reflecting its luminescent nature on your otherwise gloomy navy.

Your mother said nothing as she set a plate down in front of you. You watched her float about in the kitchen, opening drawers and collecting utensils. Despite the dull ache in your chest, you forced yourself to flash her a smile when she returned to the table, holding a large bowl of what seemed to be a mixture of vegetables and spices (whatever it was, it made your stomach grumble). The smile was anything but genuine, but it was a far cry from the one you tried to give her when Mark dropped you off a few nights ago.

The two of you ate in silence, having already exhausted any and all energy to strike up some small talk. Even if you hadn’t, you didn’t think you had enough brain cells to be able to hold a proper conversation. Your mother wasn’t much of a talker either, which you were grateful for.

Once dinner was over, you took both yours and your mother’s plate and brought it over to the sink, shooting down her offer to wash the plates instead with a shake of your head. You didn’t really feel like returning to your bedroom anytime soon, and a distraction was what you really needed at the moment. You heard soft footsteps lead into the living room and a few seconds later, the sound of the news channel rumbling from the TV. You busied yourself with washing the dishes, purposefully taking longer to scrub down on the plates and utensils.

You were so zoned in on washing that you didn’t hear the doorbell ring, nor did you hear your mother getting up from the couch and opening the door.

And that’s when you heard—

“Oh! Mark? What brings you here?”

You were grateful the water rushing from the faucet was loud enough to hide the sharp noise of a plate being dropped into the sink. You froze where you stood, refusing to believe what you just heard.

“Hi, I-I’m sorry to bother you, but uh–is Y/n home?”

You paused, waiting for your mother’s response. You could tell she was hesitating, debating on whether or not she should tell the truth. Mark wasn’t stupid. You knew he could hear the faucet running and the only other person who would be in the house was you, but you also knew Mark respected your mother as if she was his own—if she said you weren’t home, he wouldn’t argue and simply bid her a goodnight, walking back to his car and going home.

As for you, you didn’t know if you wanted to see Mark or not. One part of you wanted nothing more than to just cower behind the counter in the kitchen, but one part of you was begging to go out there and talk to him—to apologize for the scene you caused that one night and clear the air between the two of you.

“Yeah, she’s home.”

You weren’t sure if the breath you let out was one of relief or pure terror.

“Y/n?” your mother called. “Mark’s here to see you.”

It was now or never.

You shut off the faucet and hastily dried your hands with the dish towel, ignoring the way your fingers shook when you dropped your arms to the side. You exited the kitchen and took a step into the living room. Instantly, your attention landed on your best friend, who was awkwardly standing by your front door. When Mark felt the presence of another person in the room, he lifted his head, sending you a quick quirk of his lips when your eyes made contact.

If it were possible, Mark was more of a mess than you were. He was donned in nothing but sweats and a hoodie with the hood pulled up so that it was almost covering the top half of his face. From where you stood, you could just barely make out the dark shadow lining the area just above his cheeks.

Looks like you weren’t the only one who hadn’t gotten enough sleep.

Your gaze flickered over the right where your mother was standing by the couch. Catching her eye, she sent you a quick nod.

“Well, I’ll leave you two alone to talk,” she said, brushing past you and back into the kitchen. “Call me if you need anything.”

And just like that, the two of you were alone. Neither one of you had moved an inch or said a word—too afraid to be the one who pulls the switch first. Not once in the years that you’ve known each other did either of you feel this sort of stiffness with each other. Even when the two of you first met as kids, there was no awkwardness, no hesitation—just you and Mark. From the moment you met, the two of you worked so well together.

If seven year old Mark and seven year old Y/n can see you right now—see how the two of you can barely even look at each other—there’s no doubt they would be confused.

“Do you…” you started. “Do you wanna talk about this in my room?”

You were half expecting Mark’s answer to be “no,” so you were surprised to see him nod his head once and start heading over to the stairs. When he noticed you weren’t following him, he paused on the second step and peered over his shoulder. He tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow.

“Are you coming?” he asked. “Or are you just going to let me raid your room by myself?”

The corners of his lips quirked up again, and your mind short-circuited at the familiar teasing tone in his voice. You didn’t realize it until now, but you missed him. Granted it’s only been a few days and you’ve gone even longer without seeing each other before, but this was different.

“Touch any of my stuff, and I’ll make sure you aren’t leaving this house alive.”

Mark snickered.

You followed him upstairs.

— — —

Joke’s on you for thinking that this was going to be easy.

It was anything but that.

Mark sat comfortably in your desk chair, fingers twiddling with the cup of pens placed just within his grasp. Meanwhile, you were sitting on the floor with your back resting against the edge of your bed. It had been approximately five minutes, and neither of you had spoken up. However, unlike before, there wasn’t an air of awkwardness surrounding the two of you. It was definitely lighter, mure subdued, something akin to the silence that usually succeeds your more intimate conversations.

It was familiar to say the least.

Mark leaned back into the chair, and his head lolled to the side, deep brown eyes burrowing into yours. Judging from the look on his face, you could see that he was giving you the opportunity to speak first.

Ah, screw it.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out the words without thinking. “I’m sorry for...what happened that night.”

You winced slightly at how ingenuine your apology sounded, but it was an apology nonetheless. From the way your heart was pounding incessantly against your chest, you were expecting to pass out any second now. This shouldn’t have been that hard, yet here you were, struggling to even get a mere apology out. You ran your fingers through your hair, tugging at the roots, keeping your head down low to avoid seeing Mark’s expression.

“I totally just threw all of that on you and freaked out without explaining anything. I’m sorry for ruining our night out, and I’m sorry for ignoring you all weekend.”

You swallowed thickly, staring at the ground and just wanting Mark to say something—

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he murmured softly, so softly you almost didn’t hear him. “And if anyone should be apologizing, it should be me.”

Your head whipped up so fast as you sat there, dumbfounded. What could Mark possibly feel the need to apologize for?

“You don’t—”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking these past few days,” he said, staring up at the ceiling. His hands were clasped tightly together, resting against his lap. He had tugged the hood down, exposing his signature disheveled locks. The glow of the moon seeping in through your curtains bounced off of his skin, and you found yourself unable to look away.

It almost looked like—

“What were you thinking about?” you asked.

Mark shrugged his shoulders, such a casual gesture in stark contrast to the serious mood that enveloped the room as soon as the two of you walked in. For a moment,  you could have sworn you saw Mark’s pupils tremble.

You chose to ignore it—for now.

Mark cleared his throat, letting his head fall forward and straightening his position in the chair. His gaze was locked on the door, staring straight, but his words were directed at you.

“Everything you said to me that night, about the blue—was it true?”

He might have misinterpreted your prolonged silence succeeding his question because Mark was quick to interject.

“Not that I thought you were lying or anything!” he waved his hands up, finally shifting his gaze towards you. “I’m just—”

“Yeah, it’s true,” you said quietly.

Mark’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ shape, and his eyes flickered back and forth between you and the floor. Your lips stretched out into a thin line, not really sure as to what Mark was planning here. Other than him, the only other person you’ve ever talked about this to was your mom—and even then it was to a certain extent.

“You asked me if I’ve ever seen gold, and I said yes,” Mark continued, but he sounded less hesitant this time. You nodded slowly, confused but curious as to where this was going.

Mark bit his bottom lip so hard you were afraid he was going to start bleeding. The knuckles of his hands were beginning to turn white from the way he clenched his fists so tightly. You leaned forward slightly, lips set into a frown.

Mark was nervous.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve seen him like this, yet you couldn’t help but let your worry shine through. Whatever this was about, it was serious.

“I thought I was the only one who experienced something like this,” he said. “I thought that there was something wrong with me—that I was broken or defective or something was wrong with this whole color thing or—”

Mark was full on rambling now, and you shifted forward quickly, resting a gentle hand on his knee. Your voice was soft as you gently coaxed Mark to calm down and breathe.

How ironic.

You watched with careful eyes as Mark shut his own, forcing himself to breathe deeply in and out. Once he was settled, Mark opened his eyes again, and you almost gasped at the intensity of his gaze as he peered down at you.

“I see it everyday,” he whispered hoarsely.

“See what?”

“Gold.”

Your face paled.

You almost wanted to laugh—to scoff in Mark’s face and tell him that that was impossible. But you knew saying that would only make you a walking contradiction.

You didn’t know if it was the shock that came with the revelation or if it was simply exhaustion catching up with your weak constitution, but your hand fell away from Mark’s knee, and you slumped down, shoulders relaxed and head bowed. Mark said nothing as he watched you stumble back, scanning your face and searching for a sign—a sign that told him it was okay to keep going.

Ever so slowly, you lifted your head back up, risking a glance in Mark’s direction. In that brief moment, Mark caught the tiniest sliver of urgency in your eyes, encouraging him to continue.

He swallowed.

“I don’t...I can’t pinpoint exactly when this started happening,” he breathed. “Maybe junior year? All I know is that I woke up one morning and that was all I could see.”

He remembered that day so clearly. When Mark first opened his eyes, he almost fell out of his bed from the sheer shock of it all. He ran into the kitchen, scaring the life out his poor mother whose scoldings died on her lips once she noticed the panicked look on her son’s face. He was so overwhelmed at the sight of such an extravagant, intimate shade plaguing his very existence that it drove him to tears.

It was safe to say his father was both amused and confused when he arrived home from work, seeing his wife donning misty eyes and a tender smile whilst holding their youngest in the tightest of hugs.

Mark had never felt an emotion so strongly in his life, and it was all because of—

“Who…” you said hesitantly, wringing your hands together. “Who is it?”

You weren’t the type of person to force someone, especially your best friend, into revealing something they weren’t comfortable with. But with how Mark was looking at you with the most conflicted expression you’ve ever seen, curiosity overruled your moral pride, and you scooted closer.

“Mark,” you pressed. “Who is it?”

You could tell he was fighting an internal battle, but you didn’t know if he was fighting against you or himself. He bit his lip harshly, eyes flickered all around the room, trying to focus on something—anything!. It was almost like Mark was trying to avoid making direct eye contact with you, as if doing so would reveal even more secrets—more than what he was comfortable with.

Mark had always planned to tell you, except later rather than sooner.

But the longer you stared up at him, crevices crystalline and laced with just the thinnest layer of concern, the harder it was for him to ignore the glimmer of gold, glowing brighter than it had ever done before.

Mark laughed sadly, bending forward at the waist, close enough so that his face was mere inches from yours. He pretended not to notice the way your entire body stiffened at the close proximity.

He faintly registered the feeling of his heart skipping a beat.

“It’s interesting,” he murmured softly, breath hitting your face. It smelled like peppermint. “No matter how dark the room is, it always seems to shine brighter whenever you’re in it.”

You were blue personified.

Blue.

Gold.

Shine brighter whenever you’re in it.

It took you a minute (maybe two) to completely register what he just said. You blinked, mouth parting slightly. Eyes wavered back and forth from the open window, streaming in a sliver of light, back to the set of brown crevices, streaming in a light of their own—something brilliant, something vivid.

And that’s when you realized.

You felt a jolt of electricity course through your veins—from your lower back all the way to your fingertips. A quiet shriek left your lips as you fell back onto your palms, causing Mark to lurch back slightly, not expecting you to have such a knee-jerk reaction. He was undeniably perplexed, but before he could ask if you were okay, you opened your mouth, words tumbling from your lips at an incoherent and alarming rate.

“A-Are you–Are you...is it–it’s not…” you paused, taking a second to breathe. Mark waited patiently, but his hands were shaking ever so slightly.

“It’s not...me, is it?” you croaked.

Understanding finally dawned on Mark’s face, and he smiled—a little lighter this time.

“Yeah, it’s you.”

You should have been happy. You should have jumped at the news, really. Surely, if you were any other person—any other normal person—you would have rejoiced at the fact that Mark Lee, the boy who everyone pined for, the boy who every mother dreamed of having as their son-in-law, confessed his feelings for you.

Confessed his love for you.

But you weren’t happy. You didn’t feel that familiar flare of joy coursing through your blood, providing the heat and glow of adoration to your chest. Your heart rate sped up, but for different reasons.

You weren’t happy. You were devastated.

Blue.

Selfish.

Blue.

Selfish.

Blue.

You didn’t want to be selfish anymore.

“No,” your voice trembled. “No...Mark, you can’t.”

You didn’t want to be selfish anymore.

Mark gaped at you, bewildered. “What do you mean?”

You shook your head frantically, pushing yourself off of the ground and making your way over to the other side of the room. Shaky fingers brushed through your hair as an equally shaky breath fell from your lips.

You didn’t want to be selfish anymore.

Your arms fell to your side, and you swiftly turned around, face contorted into an expression that closely resembled heartbreak.

“You can’t love me,” you sniffled, clenching your fists to keep the tears at bay.

“W-What? Why not?” Mark was genuinely confused, and your vague explanations certainly weren’t helping.

You didn’t want to be selfish anymore.

You winced as if he had yelled. “You just can’t.”

“Y/n, you’re not making any sense,” Mark said firmly, shooting up from the chair. He was no longer confused, but annoyed. “Where is this coming from? What do you mean I can’t—”

“You just can’t, Mark,” you hissed, releasing your hold on the dam, letting it break apart and drip down your cheeks unrestrained. You scrunched your shirt into a fist in front of your chest. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve to be seen the way you see me—not if I can’t see you in the same way.”

Years of pent up frustration and hurt had finally burst through, unrelenting and inscrutable.

You wet your lips. “You wanna know what happened, the morning after we hung out? I woke up, and all I saw was blue.”

Mark’s stern expression faltered. You wiped a tear away.

“My worst nightmare had come true,” you choked. “I spent so long wishing—hoping—that I would one day know what it feels like to open my eyes and be met with nothing but pure joy and love. In my past relationships, all I’ve ever wanted was to give them what they gave to me, but I-I couldn’t and–and they took it so badly and I—”

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Mark, I can’t do that to you,” you said weakly. “You mean so much to me. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

You wiped away the remaining tears on your face but gave up when a fresh batch of tears flooded over. There was a pounding sensation in your head, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you went to bed tonight with a raging headache.

During your little rant, your vision was so blurred (whether it was because of the tears or the blue, you didn’t know) that you failed to notice Mark was now standing directly in front of you instead of from across the room.

Your body jerked when you felt his hands grip your shoulders. Mark was bent slightly at the waist, just enough so that you didn’t have to crane your neck to look at him. His face was set into a scowl.

“You’re such a dumbass,” he hissed, tears of his own beginning to slide down his cheeks.

He removed his hands from your shoulders, bringing them down so they wrapped around your own hands, squeezing hard. You started, stepping back—

“Do you really think it’s that easy?” he scolded, wanting to sob and yell and flick you on the forehead all at the same time. “Do you really think–I can’t just force myself to change, Y/n. I’ve spent so much time feeling what I feel that it’s become almost impossible for me to feel anything else.”

You trembled, and Mark squeezed your hands tighter.

“I don’t choose to love you, Y/n—I just do!” he stressed. “And whether or not you think you deserve it does not change what I feel for you—”

“Mark—”

“Your past relationships don’t define you,” Mark continued. “And if you think I’m just going to stand here and listen to you say that you don’t deserve what I’m giving you, then you don’t know me as well as you think.”

You glanced down at your conjoined hands, and Mark gently rubbed his thumbs over your knuckles.

“You deserve to be loved, Y/n. And you deserve to love, too.”

“And I can’t wait for you to see it, one day.”

The words your mom told you all those days ago rang clearly in your mind, as if agreeing with everything that’s been laid out in front of you.

And you wanted to listen so bad.

But it was hard to focus on anything else when all you could see was a blanket of navy.

You shook your head, pulling away from Mark’s grip and wrapping your arms around yourself, protective and secure.

“Mark, I don’t know if I can,” you pressed. “Nothing’s working. Every time I think I feel something, I open my eyes and it’s all just blue!”

You threw your arms up in frustration, clenching your fists, fingernails digging deeply into the skin.

“It’s only been like this for a few days, but I-I’ve felt this way for so long,” you hissed, eyes misty. “I just want it to stop. I want it gone—all of it! Even if it means I’ll never be able to see the color blue ever again, then that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Mark said nothing, and he stepped closer.

“It’s just so...draining,” you drawled, tired of it all. “I can’t even think straight—can’t even go two seconds without being reminded of something that is out of my control!”

And closer.

“Of all the colors, why did it have to be blue?” This wasn’t you talking to Mark anymore. No, you were talking to yourself. “Why couldn’t it have been orange? Or red, or green, or purple? It could’ve been any of the others but of course—with my luck, it had to be blue. Why...Why couldn’t–Why couldn’t it have been—”

“Gold?”

You felt your mouth seal shut. Mark was back to standing directly in front of you, but closer this time. You peered up at him, trying to focus on him rather than the clump of teardrops blurring your vision. His expression was no longer set into a scowl. It was softer, more tender—could maybe even be described as longing. It was a look you recognized all too well.

It was the same look he gave you whenever you surprised him at work. It was the same look he gave you whenever you made silly faces at him during class. It was the same look he gave you whenever you acted a fool in public.It was the same look he gave you whenever you smiled back at him.

The signs of Mark’s love had always been there.

You were just too much of an idiot to realize it.

“Mark, I–” you stammered. “I’m...I’m sorry.”

He smiled sadly. “Sorry for what?”

“For not noticing it sooner.”

Mark chuckled, gently poking your forehead with his index finger. “Sorry it took me this long to tell you.”

You both went silent, taking a moment to bask in the other’s presence. It was all so strange. A few minutes ago, you were crying your eyes out, fearful at the thought of potentially ruining whatever it was you had left with Mark—friendship or otherwise. But here you were, standing so close that you could just barely make out every line and every crease on Mark’s face, tears dried and nowhere to be found (that went for both of you).

The air was different now, a little tight, a little tense. But it wasn’t the tenseness that was there before. It was more...intimate. You no longer felt like your throat was closing up, making it difficult to breathe or to focus. Your skin felt flushed and tingly all over, shivers running up and down your spine.

You risked a glance up into Mark’s eyes, and you were positively blown away by the sheer amount of emotion they conveyed, piercing right through you and landing a heavy blow on your heart and lungs, effectively knocking the wind out of you.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you noticed Mark’s hand come up, raising ever so slowly until it hovered a mere centimeters away from your cheek. He stopped at the last second, right before he made contact, and stared at you intently.

“Would it be totally selfish of me,” he breathed out a laugh, “if I said that I really wanted to kiss you right now?”

You wanted to laugh. You wanted to cry. You wanted to shove his hand away and ask him why—after all the shit you just said to him only a few minutes prior—why he wanted to. You almost did. You had a whole spiel ready and waiting for you to pull the trigger and kickstart another wheel of jumbled up insecurities and fears.

But you lacked the energy to do so.

You didn’t want to be selfish anymore.

You laughed, raw and broken. “I’ve been selfish this whole time. Why not even out the playing field?”

Barely a second passed when Mark’s hand finally cupped your cheek. You almost gasped at the feeling of warmth enveloping your skin. He carefully caressed the surface of your cheek with his thumb, smooth yet calloused at the same time. You raised your arm, lightly wrapping around Mark’s upper arm, just above his elbow. You could feel his eyes studying you, searching for any sign of discomfort.

After what you just went through, the last thing Mark wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispered. And the way he said it was practically dripping with his love and adoration for you that you almost burst into tears again. You nodded, slowly but surely, and brought up your other arm to rest your hand on his shoulder.

“I trust you,” you breathed. You truly did.

“What if…” Mark paused, choosing his words carefully. “What if...this doesn’t change anything? Will you be okay with that?”

Emotions had this sick, twisted way of messing with someone’s head whilst simultaneously manipulating the heart in the same fashion. They were completely out of your control, and it was a thought you had difficulty coming to terms with. As for your game plan if this experience proved to be futile—

Well, you’ll worry about that when the time comes.

For now, you were too distracted by the feeling of Mark’s soft hands against your skin to even come up with some substantial answer. But you still tried.

“If I’m being honest, I don’t really know,” you admitted, taking note of the way Mark’s lips quirked down. Your hand on his arm moved, fingers dragging along the fabric of his hoodie, stopping once they arrived at Mark’s hand on your cheek. You held onto it.

“But if it does, will you be okay with it?”

It was one thing for you to end up feeling exactly what you were feeling right now—it’s happened before, why not now? But it was another thing for Mark entirely. You were his best friend, the person he loved. If after the kiss you don’t feel any different, you don’t want that to end up tarnishing your long standing friendship. You meant what you said before—you didn’t want to hurt him.

Mark shifted even closer. He tilted his head forward, the tip of his nose just barely brushing against yours. Your grip on his shoulder tightened.

“Like I said before,” He wet his lips. “It’s become almost impossible for me to feel anything but love for you.”

If there was any remaining distance left between the two of you, it was promptly closed when Mark’s lips connected with yours. At first, neither of you moved and stood there frozen, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Then you felt Mark’s lips gently move against your own, coaxing your lips to move against his.

Mark tasted like peppermint. It was his favorite sweet treat. Ever since you were kids, Mark would always bring a piece or two (just in case you wanted one) with him in his pocket or lunchbox. You remember a few years ago, Jaemin had gifted him with a jar full of peppermint candy, and you swore you’ve never seen his face light up so quick.

Mark’s lips brushed yours, gently and delicately, like flower petals, giving you enough time to react. You trailed your hand up from Mark’s shoulder, following the path of his collarbone and curling your fingers around the base of his neck, tugging him lower, closer.

He responded quickly, cupping your cheek and jaw and resting his other hand on the curve of your hip.

The two of you continue to kiss like that—languidly and cautiously.

And for the longest time, nothing changed. Fireworks didn’t go off as soon as your lips touched. There wasn’t that ‘spark’ you saw and heard all the time from the movies you’ve watched. There was, however, the dreadful moment where your heart slowly began to sink.

Joke’s on you for being so hopeful.

But as the kiss progressed—as Mark pulled you forward so that you were flush against him, arm once again moving to wrap around his neck, and you craned your head upwards, deepening the kiss, that’s when you saw it.

It was so small, small enough to go unnoticed by someone who’s had the pleasure of being in its presence before.

But you saw it.

It started off as a mere twinkle of light, highly miniscule and not even worthy of recognition. But then it grew, and grew, and grew until it was no longer a fragment of light but a raging fire, burning and searing, taking over every single one of your senses: touch, taste, smell, hearing, and most of all—sight.

The sensation was so overwhelming, so sudden, that you abruptly broke away from the kiss, shaking and heaving. You stumbled forward, and Mark yelped in surprise, swiftly catching you in his arms.

“Y/n?” his voice shook with concern. “Y/n, are you okay? What’s wrong? What is too much? Did I—”

But you couldn’t hear him.

You couldn’t feel him.

You couldn’t see him.

Because all you could see…

...was gold.

For the first time in your life, you saw gold.

And it was so beautiful.

Your senses heightened tenfold, causing a tempestuous swirl of glowing embers and gleaming stars to surround every inch of your trembling body. The sensation was almost too much, too immense of an emotion colliding with the walls of your weakened heart. You vaguely registered the touch of Mark’s hands, shaking you gently.

“Y/n? Y/n, hey—look at me.” Mark cupped both of your cheeks, tilting your head up so that your eyes met his. He was taken aback, unsuspecting of the overflow of light and mirth staring back at him.

You gripped the front of his hoodie, scrunching it up in your fists.

“Mark,” you mewled softly. You didn’t notice you were crying again until Mark’s thumbs wiped beneath your lashes. “Is gold always this bright?”

Mark’s ministrations came to a sudden stop. His mouth parted in shock, a disbelieving gasp escaped from his lips. His hands trembled from where they rested against your cheeks. He wanted to slap himself across the face—to make sure that he hadn’t misheard you.

But when you gave him the most radiant smile he’s ever seen, Mark wanted to fucking melt.

This was real.

He loved you.

And you loved him back.

Mark wasted no time. He shook himself out of his dazed stupor and surged forward, crashing his lips onto yours, hard and persistent. In an instant, the mood of the kiss changed.

There were no more delicate touches and gentle coaxing, just frantic desire and fiery passion.

You shrieked, one hand reaching back to steady yourself against the dresser as Mark practically hovered over you, holding you to him so securely as he kissed you desperately. You returned the kiss with much fervor, riding off of the high that came both from Mark’s intense love for you and your equally intense love for him. You threw both of your arms around his neck, dragging him downwards.

Despite the intensity of the kiss, Mark’s touch was still soft, still tender. He held you like you were a piece of glass, fragile and prone to damage at even the harshest of touches.

You couldn’t help but choke out a sob against his lips. You should’ve been embarrassed, but Mark simply parted from you, choosing to press quick, gentle kisses along the surface of your cheeks instead, wiping away any tears that still remained.

When he was finished, he gave you one last kiss on the lips, and rested his forehead against yours, two earthy globes filled with buckets of levity and devotion gazing back at you.

“I love you,” Mark professed breathlessly.

God, you felt so euphoric.

You laughed weakly, tugging him back down and pressing your lips to his briefly.

And again,

And again,

And again.

Until every last drop of blue was completely effaced, replaced with the color of your love instead.

Never in a million years would you have ever seen yourself wrapped up in the arms of your best friend, sharing kisses of gold and professing words of commitment—

But you were happy.

You were loved.

And you loved back.

— — —

In hindsight, you probably should have replied back to your friends before crashing the night before because once you stepped foot onto campus, you were bombarded with three large bodies jumping on top of you.

“Y/n, you’re back—”

“I missed you—”

“You didn’t answer my texts—”

“I’m happy you’re still alive—”

“Hyuck—”

“Ow! What was that for?”

You laughed (though you were struggling), untangling yourself from the mess of limbs and backpacks, stumbling backwards, body colliding with a sturdy chest. You looked up and were met with the familiar eyes of the boy who took your breath away only a few hours before.

Mark smiled down at you warmly, patting the top of your head.

“Hi,” he beamed.

“Hey,” you responded, and Mark chuckled, finding your hand and intertwining your fingers together.

Gold.

You grinned, squeezing back.

Gold.

The sound of collective gasps brought your attention back to the group of boys in front of you. Donghyuck’s mouth was opened wide, jaw slacked. Jeno and Jaemin’s eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets, and Renjun just stood there, looking appalled.

You waved your fingers at them. “Uh, guys? You okay?”

Renjun was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat and gesturing towards yours and Mark’s conjoined hands.

“Mind explaining that?” He raised his eyebrows.

You looked at Mark, then back to your friends, then back to Mark, an awkward chuckle leaving your throat. Mark just shrugged.

“It’s a long story.”

Jeno reached over, lifting Donghyuck’s jaw and closing his mouth. The latter seemed to finally get a grasp on what was going on, and he strode over to the two of you.

“Both of you. Lunch. Don’t be late. Don’t run away. I will track you down.” He jabbed a finger in both of your faces, and you gulped, knowing better than to argue with Donghyuck when he meant serious business.

You threw your free hand up in surrender. “We’ll be there,” you promised. Donghyuck nodded, accepting your genuity of your response, and the stern look on his face went away instantly, melting into one of acceptance and understanding.

He turned back around, grabbing the straps of Jeno and Jaemin’s backpacks, dragging them through the doors of school.

“Let’s go slowpokes! I can’t afford another tardy!”

Renjun simply shook his head at the two of you, but you didn’t miss the way his lips curled up ever so slightly. He shooed you guys along.

“You heard him, lovebirds. Get moving.”

There weren’t enough words in the dictionary that you could string together to be able to describe just how giddy you were. As you pulled Mark down the hallway and to your first class, you couldn’t wipe the expression of pure joy off of your face.

Once you reached the door to the classroom, you were about to head inside when Mark suddenly jerked you back into the (almost) empty hallway. You barely had time to react as he leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” He grinned widely.

You pressed your lips together, shoving at his chest playfully. “You–You’re...God, you’re such a romantic,” you muttered, refusing to meet Mark’s eyes. “Just–Just go. You’ll be late for class.”

You huffed, gripping the straps of your backpack tightly, fingers turning white. You promptly turned away from Mark and marched right up the doorway. He chuckled at your retreating form, shoving his hands into his pockets, about to head across the hall and into his own classroom, when you looked back over your shoulder.

“I love you, too.”

Unable to handle the onslaught of warmth rushing to your cheeks, you offered a meek nod and scurried into the classroom, leaving Mark to stand there, dumbfounded and a little bit of a fool in love.

You plopped down in your seat, reaching over to smack the back of Jeno’s head when he stuck his tongue out and pretended to gag. Jaemin snickered.

In all honesty though, you couldn’t be annoyed. You’d take their teasing comments and Mark’s overbearingly affectionate gestures over sulking in bed any day.

You set your bag on top of the desk and whipped your phone out, taking a few moments to indulge yourself as the morning announcements came over the loudspeaker.

When the notification popped up at the top of your screen, you almost swore with happiness.

[Have I ever told you how good you looked in gold?]

[beastsars]

could you do hcs for bf pina pls?? (maybe w his s/o being a carnivore👀)

— this one was tough, because if were staying true to his character, he’s got plenty of ‘significant’ others to go around. he’s the kind of guy-beast- to dabble around with the forbidden fruits just to taste as many variety as he can. so if he does manage to convince a carnivore to join his little harem, it’s hard to say if he’d be completely committed. 

— but for the sake of angst and fun times, let’s say it starts off not too much different than his typical relationships. pina has a careless attitude, and while he teases legoshi for his infatuations for another species, i can see him being intrigued enough by their dynamic. it’s fair to say that pina gets bored easily by mundane things, which is why his girlfriends tend to blend together. therefore, when he decides to try and woo a carnivore, it’s for all intents and purposes to add some spice to his life. but perhaps a dash too much. 

— his beau isn’t ignorant to the sheep’s ways. by this point, pina has become very popular for various reasons. they likely engaged in a simple tryst out of curiosity, a private hook up that had one too many ears involved and now it tumbles all into the open. by the next school day, neither of them can deny it, but rather than be ashamed pina takes obvious pride in it, going as far as to boldly set a chaste kiss in greeting that morning. 

— it sort of spirals out of control from there. pina expects them to approach him, past interactions placing him as the object of obsession. but they hardly glance his way? which he knows for certain because he’s certainly looked their way more than once. they don’t even try to hide from his gaze, comfortably going about their lives as if they’d never even met him. which kind of bruises his ego, because he’d like to think that he made some sort of impact. 

—whomever he was dating at the time won’t appreciate the scandal, especially the carnivore implications. but pina will be able to calm them down, his easy going nature accompanied by the fact that the person doesn’t truly want to lose face, helps to ease the situation. then cue his latest conquest merrily drifting through the courtyard. it’s impossible for any herbivore to ignore the presence of a carnivore, their interruption drawing the couple from a messy make up/out session. but rather than be perturbed, the carnivore just smiles. but it’s not sheepish or antagonized. it’s absolutely feral in the most subtle and challenging ways, and this poor sheep is naturally hooked. 

— catch pina trailing after them from that point on as if they’re the shepherd of his soul. he always manages to appear outside of their classes, graciously sliding into their conversations and providing company to the next destination. he elects to sit next to them during lunch, uncaring of the other carnivore companions. his apparent new obsession making him impetuous to any and all danger. it makes the other carnivores uncomfortable but his conquest just smiles freely and carries on like it’s no matter. 

— pina isn’t use to chasing but damn if his fixation doesn’t make it easy. while they let him into their space, they rarely engage in anything past a peck on the cheek. even in seclusion, pina has trouble urging them to go past second base and it infuriates him. but oh no, he doesn’t give up. that would mean failure. 

— he goes to legoshi of all beasts, interrogating the poor soul on how to properly court a carnivore. the wolf is too overwhelmed with inquiries and the fact that pina is coming to him, that he stumbles over some advice. praying that it doesn’t bite him in the ass. 

— with new strategies, pina ups the ante. showering them with small gifts and purchasing special seats to his performances. when he can, he’ll boldly hold their hand in public, not above glaring at other carnivores who dare to defy his claim. from holding their books to knowing their favorite snacks and other details he never cared to remember in other relationships. speaking of those, he can’t recall the last time he interacted with anyone else. unconsciously blind to the beady eyes watching their ‘love’ practically kneel at this carnivore’s feet. it’s truly a shame that they can’t do anything about it. 

— when pina is just about at his wits, they corner him this time. they were willing to play along up until this point but now they want answers. inquisitive as to why the playboy-sheep, is suddenly so aggressive about having them. to which pina promptly proclaims with a pseudo growl of his own that “it’s because you’re fucking mine.” and proceeds to kiss them within every inch of their life. 

because someone is going to ask, i’ll preemptively take the plunge:

— call it my personal tastes, but pina is the submissive in this relationship. he’s all pomp and flare but in the bedroom he knows his place. the first time they hooked up, they let him control the pace out of pure curiosity. the newness of it all helped to bring them to the edge but now it’s not enough. they let him know very early, that if he plans to get any he’d better play by their rules. 

— bondage is a frequent kink of theirs.  enjoying the meticulously task of tying his wrist together the  grabbing him by the horns and literally riding him into the sunset. occasionally they elect to sit in his face, legs hooked under his horns like a saddle. 

— unable to physically mark him, partially out of instincts and his concerns of marring his appearance on stage, they go about scent marking instead. but the dirty kind where they soil every inch of him with their release. leaving impossible to discern damp spots from his own perspiration and their essence. 

— not above blindfolding just to have pina at their mercy. keens at the sound of him moaning for them, confident that they have the sole ability to give him the satisfaction he needs. will undoubtedly make him beg for it. all that time spent when him chasing after them instils the fact that pina isn’t too ashamed to get his knees dirty. 

[mystech-master]

F/GO High School/Modern AU BS

Me and @rex101111 have been talking about a modern/HS AU ft. as many Chaldean servants as possible. Here are the ideas we came up with (I am pretty much cut and pasting our message convo, so this is a mixture of both me and Rex's ideas):

Gil is the douchbag Senior everyone hates but his dad owns the school or whatever so he can do whatever he wants. The only decent person who willingly hangs out with him is his childhood friend Enkidu who's hoping he can un-douch his bro. He has kid Gil as his little brother and Caster Gil as his older bro who both agree that he sucks (Gil is the loser middle child of the family), Caster Gil wonders what Enkidu sees in his shit head brother. "He's too good for you." "Blow it out your ass." "One day he's going to wise up, see how much of a shit you are, and when you're all alone don't come crying to me." Caster Gil is in college studying political science, Kid Gil goes to a fancy boarding school. Archer Gil goofs off and throws parties

Scathach is a swimming class teacher, mainly b/c I recall underwater training being a part of Cu's regiment under her tutelage. People were jealous of the Cus for like two seconds when they find out the swim teacher is their mom, then they see her having them do an extra twenty laps and ignoring when OG Cu starts floating in the water. "CU DIED!" "YOU'RE NOT HUMAN!" while Scathach is like "you have two seconds to stop playing around before I ACTUALLY drown you" and he's back to doing laps.

Yeah with 4-5 Cus (if you count Setanta from Arcade) that is like 5 brothers.

Nightingale as school nurse, she is friends with Asclepius who works at a hospital associated with the school (strictly professional, but the students think otherwise).

Side note, keep in mind you can have multiple servants be the same type of teacher, just for different classes/grades.

King Hassan is the old Religious History teacher. Every one thinks he's older then the rock is the school is made out of. He has a scary face and a scarier voice but most students consider him the most fair and patient teacher in the whole school. He always gets a lot of food gifts before Ramadan form the students. (A few students, such as the Guda twins and Mash, call him gramps.) The other Hassans are his grandkids, like actual grandkids. He's super strict with them because he expects a lot from them. He always praises them when they do well though. He made sure they ALL got into his class and they've been living in fear ever since. They love their grandpa but by Allah they know not to disappoint him. The only one to ever get out of anything is kid Hassan (one of the hundred face). Cursed Arm is oldest, then Asako (the main hundred face), then Serenity.

"I am very disappointed in ALL of you, have you all lost your heads? I swear I-*to kid Hassan*-ah no Habibi not you you're fine here have a candy-*back to the rest*-I KNOW you're better than this!"

VERY traditional guy, Cursed Arm mutters "Oh for God's sake" while doing a pop quiz and King Hassan looms over him and growls, "No Blaspheming In This Class Room"

For the various Artoria/Arturias, I imagined Lancer and Lancer Alter being sisters, so Saber Alter is a cousin. That leaves everyone else to just be sisters with one brother. Mother Lartoria owns a casino and gas her own yacht in reference to the summer event where she became a Ruler. If you want MHX could be a part of the family as a massive fucking Star Wars nerd. MHXX and MHX Alter are her mom and sister (so MHXX is a third sister for the two Lancer Artorias)

For Irisviel, I remember in one of the Nero Fest things that she was called Therapist Iri. Maybe she starts to get into that b/c she wants to help her adoptive son Shirou (instead of a big fire like in Zero it can be an orphanage fire thing, similar situation but a much smaller scale) , so she is the school therapist/psychiatrist. Like Maruki in P5 Royal.

Iskandar died in his 30s, Waver is around his 30s as Lord El Melloi II. The two are old college friends who still hang out and Alexander is Iskandar’s kid.

If you guys want you can see this as the two being gay dads since I know that ship is popular.

Fran had an abusive father before Babbage and Moriarty got involved. In the og story, Frankenstien has a scientific mindset like his creator, here Fran has a talent in the field, but she also hates it b/c it reminds her of him. Like imagine being talented at the thing your abusive parent was good at/known for. Moriarty tried to get it into her that SHE'S the one with the talent, not her college dropout bum of a father, "From you tell me of him Victor couldn't engineer his way out of an argument with a cat, you have a magnificent mind my dear, not letting it flourish to spite him would be a horrible waste...it's your talent, your skill. Not his." He smiles that smile she loves that scares every one but she knows he only smiles like that when he is absolutely convinced of something, "and you can out perform him without breaking a sweat."

Moriarty teaches Fran sign language while Babbage teaches her some engineering.

Jekyll is going for a major in medicine with a minor in law (in the actual irl story Dr. Jekyll was a doctor in medicine and law).

For science associated servants, you got da Vinci, Babbage, Edison, and Tesla as possible science teachers.

The Jeanne sisters. Without the Avenger BS, the reason Jalter (or Joan as one series of fics calls her) could hate her here is just inferiority complex and being compared to her perfect saint big sister all her life. Joan does have her talents, based on the summer event an, but again she doesn't acknowledge her own talent b/c of her always being compared to her older sister., in the 7 counterfeit events she is a really good artist. And it is the typical thing of Jeanne actually being scared out of her wits of being less than perfect because of all the expectations thrust on her. She gets one A- and runs to the bathroom crying and Joan has to swallow her pride and actually have a conversation with her sister for the first time in years. Jeanne Alter lily puts up Christmas decorations super early, much to Jeanne Alter/Joan's displeasure.

"IT JUST TURNED NOVEMBER CHILL TF OUT!"

"CHRISTMAS!"

Martha is Jeanne's BF since middle school and has this HUGE dog that scares everyone and growls at anyone expect Martha and Jeanne. She calls him Terry.

Rex loves Penthesilea. and we talked at length about the situation between her and Achilles. Can you not tell that he likes a woman who can kick his ass *gestures to all of his Baiken posts*

Rex's idea: I think they had a fight when they were little and Achilles, being a little shit back then, made fun of her for being a girl, and Penth has been sore about it ever since. She keeps running into big misogynistic meatheads that reminded her of that and she just got angrier over the years. She's a wrestler and can knock out just about every dude in school by herself. Achilles is very regretful about back then and wants to apologize but Penth ain't having any of it.

My idea: I thought they were on opposing HS sports teams and when Achilles handed her ass to her he forgot to drink his respect women juice and then Penth got all pissed.

In this AU, Penth and Hippolyta's dad was a general who taught them how to kick the ass of men twice their size since they were seven or something.

Penth surprises everyone when a festival comes up and she gets picked to be the one to organize everything...and does a spectacular job. Another surprise is that she plans on being a business major when she goes to college (Obligatory Amazoness CEO jokes)

Bedivere is the Arturia Pendragon family butler with a prosthetic arm. He's also the security guard, last guy that tried to steal something or cause trouble got slapped right out of the window he sneaked in from.

Francis Drake and Artoria Alter Lancer are work friends (referencing them both being associated with the Wild Hunt in F/GO's lore).

Beni-Enma is the short and shorter tempered lunch lady, last kid who mouthed off at her during lunch got smacked upside the head with her spoon. She's sweet, but if you're in detention and have to help her in the kitchen she's a mini Gorden Ramsey, "IT'S RAW DECHI!!!" She can also come into the home EC class where Shirou is her best student. Also her roasting of the other girls like in her quest. Getting Fs in Beni's class is the worst, because it isn't just an F, it's a meticulous dressing down of exactly why letting into a kitchen should be considered a war crime, dechi.

The three Avenger Nobus are three different people. 1st Ascension is basically Archer Nobu, then you got Oda Kipposhi, and then the mom is Ascension 3 with Demon King Nobunaga. The youngest Ascension 1 Nobu is a musician. Demon King Nobu is one of those "super scary but also super polite people that only makes them scarier" type, basically a female koei Nobunaga from samurai warriors (check out some cutscenes form the games with him, he's a treat).

Imagine Demon King Nobu mom in a business suit.

Suzuka Gozen and Sei Shonagon are the textaholics who always talk in slang to the point of it sounding like they speak a different language. Murasaki is the librarian but Sei is like that ONE student who just makes her job so much harder.

Every week it's "No phones in the library Miss Shonagon." while Sei rolls her eyes and types out twitter post like "fugly ol librarian at my school needs a life lol"

Oui Katsushika is a gifted art student, and her dad (not a floating little octopus), is just a normal dude with a squid/octopus like beard. She's the teacher's pet in De Vinci's art class.

Eresh and Ishtar come from a rich family, Ereshkigal is the older sister so she had a shit load of responsibility to take over the family business while Ishtar basically gets to party her life away. Rin is the cousin they each try and swing their way. Eresh wants Rin to keep up her studies and get into a good university, Ishtar wants Rin to loosen the fuck up and admit that she likes that scrawny Emiya kid already.

BB is the host of a talk show downtown so she is kind of an absentee mom. Meltryllis has prosthetic legs that she specifically asked to be made into stilts b/c she wanted to be taller, and Passonlip has a massive rack that makes life difficult (either people staring, people assuming she's gonna be a home wrecker b/c said staring must be intentional, etc.), and of course he also has prosthetic arms to match her canon claws, obviously not as massive.

Hijikata is a very serious police officer but his wife Carmilla just uses this to have fun in the bedroom. They have two Dobermans. Hijikata's route has him patrolling near the school so most of the kids know as that scary police dude that has a picture of his wife in his pocket. One day a famous Idol called Eli-chan~ (yes spelled with the ~) is about to perform in the town and the kids can't stop talking about her, so Hijikata overhears. But, being the serious dude he is he shrugs it off until he sees a picture of this "Eli-chan~" and realizes it's his sister-in-law that came to visit and suddenly the influx of parasitic paparazzi near his house start making sense.

Carmilla: "Now you see why I hate them?", Hijikata: "No you cannot send the dogs after them honey."

She almost ran one of them over in her, very expensive, car and when that reporter says she should be locked up Hijikata corrects that would only happen if she had hit him...and she would be fined. For littering.

Okita Alter being Hijikata's partner, while Okita is her younger sister who's looked up to Hijikata since she was a little kid but she has asthma and such so she's afraid she might not get accepted.

Sigurd owns a metalworks shop (referencing his myth where he was raised by the dwarf Reginn), he met his wife Brynhildr when she was disowned by her overly controlling father.

Ozymandias, Nitocris, and Cleopatra are all the high board members of a company. Nitocris specifically got wind of Scheherazade's abusive husband situation and after getting said husband arrested, she offered Scheherazade a job.

Atalanta is a college student/TA who worked with Achilles' dad who ends up at their HS for a program or something, Achilles' dad has told him a lot about her.

Amakusa Shirou is an uncle married to the CEO of Babylon Gardens Pharmaceuticals, Semiramis. Semiramis herself is kinda chill if REALLY scary. She had to be pretty cutthroat to get to her position in the company, but Amakusa Shirou helped her mellow out, but she is still a massive tsundere.

"You know you COULD poison their lunch." "Semi, dear, I'm not going to poison my coworker's sandwich for being an ass." "It wouldn't kill them! Just a bit in their peanut better and they'll be stuck on the toilet for a week, no harm no foul."

Rex initially said Taiga would be an overly enthusiastic gym teacher but then I remembered that she was a homeroom/English teacher in Fate canon, but either or can do if you wanna be unique.

For Quetzalcoatl, Wrestling club supervisor when she isn't the senior year gym teacher. Some of the male students laughed that they didn't think a woman would know anything about wrestling. Two piledrives later, the students have earned a new appreciation for the importance on how not to be two pieces of shit. She's big on Lucha as in canon and during Halloween she gets JAGUARMAN to have an exhibition fight with her. They make a show of it but later on Taiga admits that Quatz could have CRUSHED her if they were actually fighting. She takes the wrestling club out for homemade Mexican food after tournaments

For Siduri, there's a bunch of rumors she's dating Caster Gil but it's strictly professional, Caster respects her too much to consider that. Archer Gil hits on her relentlessly, she manages to wound his ego more severely then anyone else simply by being unfailingly polite in her rejections and treating him like what he is, a teenage punk jumping higher than he can handle to land.

Ibaraki is Shuten's adoptive little sister after she was taken from an abusive mother, hence why Ibaraki looks up to her. Ibuki is either Shuten's big sister who had to take on a guardian role, or just her mom. Shuten and Ibuki have a bit of a strained relationship because Shuten saw the way Ibuki acted as they grew up, taking more and more responsibilities onto herself and refusing any distractions. And she decided that her biggest nightmare is to wake up one morning and realize she's turned into Ibuki so she tries to do everything to avoid that, hence their relationship not being the best. Ibaraki is kinda stuck in the middle because she wants to side with Shuten but she sees where Ibuki is coming from. Messy.

Caren is still Kotomine’s daughter, but he isn’t a good dad and in rebellion she sleeps around despite being a woman of god. Including sleeping with local punk Angra Mainyu. Angra Mainyu seems like a bad guy but he has a shit load of issues due to being blamed for everything going wrong in his old town, eventually coming to believe them and thinking he will cause nothing but problems. Caren banging him gives him a type of closeness he’s never felt, but under very warped circumstances.

For the Tamamo family, Vitch totally fucked her way up a corporate ladder or something, imagined Tamamo Cat working at a Cat Cafe if she were a Student. Tamamo no Mae accidentally fed her prev BF a food he was allergic too, and that kind of haunted her and scared her rep. IDK basically she seriously fucked up a previous relationship, either on purpose or accidentally, and that kind of hurts her deeply so she wants to start over with Hakuno.

Nero and Tamamo no Mae are rivals over this one guy.

Kiichi Hougen is the adoptive mom, Benkei is the family friend/uncle, Taira is Ushiwaka's older sister. Taira isn't on the best of terms with her family, some drama way back caused a rift and nowadays Ushi is the only one who's willing to talk to her and visit. Benkei never lets her go alone because he doesn't trust Taira one bit. Taira and Ushiwaka are Kintoki and Tomoe's cousins (I say Tomoe b/c apparently her husband and Ushiwaka were half cousins, with their grandpa having kids with their grandmas. I tried to make a whole family tree out of a few servants).

These are the ideas we had the most to talk about, if you guys have any suggestions for your fav servants in this AU, let either me or Rex know. Or just reblog and say them here. Who knows maybe you have a much better idea for a Servant we already mentioned.

[secretpeachtea]

five levels of affection

Scenario: Bakugou doesn’t seem like a very affectionate kind of guy at first glance, so you’re pleasantly surprised by the many ways he shows affection as your relationship with him grows

Genre: F L U F F

Pairing: Reader (Y/N) x Bakugou

A/N: oh shoot this isn’t haikyuu but i’ve really been into bnha and this is literally just something that I pulled out of my “things I would love to see from emotionally constipated men” bag of ideas. i literally love this man and his floofy hair

level 1: sharp elbow nudges

As Aizawa finishes explaining the hero training for today, you feel someone roughly jab their elbow against your side. You let out a small gasp in surprise and get ready to glare at whoever had the audacity to do so. 

As you turn to see who the culprit is, you’re met with striking red orbs that belong to none other than your classmate, Bakugou Katsuki. “Seems like we’re sparring today. Be my partner so I can crush you!”

You let out a scoff and prod your own elbow back at his side. “You couldn’t be a little more nice about asking me?”

Kaminari seems to have witnessed the exchange and decides to sling an arm over your shoulder. “Yeah, man. You can’t just manhandle a pretty lady like (L/N)-chan.”

“No one asked for your fucking input, Dunce Face.” Bakugou lets out a low growl and makes a swipe for the male. Kaminari leaps away from you with a yelp and proceeds to hide behind an unsuspecting Kirishima across the room.

The explosive boy is about to follow Kaminari but stops when you place a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll take your offer. I’d take any opportunity to put you in your place with my liquid manipulation quirk, Bakugou-kun.”

“YOU’RE ON, SQUIRT GUN!”

level 2: aggressive head pats

Everyone has their off days in training. Today seems to be that day for you. 

Class 1A was at USJ for some rescue training and you were teamed up with Kirishima and Bakugou. The goal was to rescue dummies from collapsed buildings in the Conflagration Zone as quickly as possible. This fiery zone was absolutely the worst place for you to be in. With no water or any form of liquid for you to manipulate, you were practically running around quirkless. 

You felt utterly useless as you just followed your two teammates who were able to successfully rescue the dummies. All you could do was keep a lookout for any falling debris or potential hazards, but not being able to use your quirk frustrated you to no end. By the end of class, you felt defeated and sulked on the way back to the bus.

“Oi.” Bakugou’s voice takes you out of your daze, but you keep your head low in frustration. He takes a moment to scan your face and think about what to do next. 

Suddenly, you feel something heavy slam onto the top of your head. The sensation is gone for a second before you feel it again, the amount of force almost knocking you off balance. Once you finally look up to him, you can see a subtle softness in his usual scowl. “No one’s got the perfect quirk for every situation, and that includes you. You did fine, stupid.”

Bakugou’s words lift your sullen mood more than you’d like to admit. Perhaps he wasn’t as aggressive as he tries to give off. A smile spreads across your face when you finally realize that the heavy feeling from before was actually from Bakugou’s hand. 

“Was that your attempt at trying to pat my head?”

“AND WHAT OF IT, SQUIRT GUN?!”

level 3: gentle back hugs

“Thank you so much, Recovery Girl!”

“Please try to be a bit more careful next time, dear.”

During a free period, there was a bit of a situation between some of the students and it seemed to have rubbed Bakugou off in the wrong way. He was already in a bad mood at the time, so his emotions seemed to have gotten out of control as he literally blew up his desk with his quirk. 

Pieces of wood flew into the air and with your luck, an entire desk leg slammed right into your body causing you to stumble to the ground. Air was knocked out of your lungs as splinters of wood made small cuts on your arms.

“(L/N)-san!” Midoriya yells from across the room. Mina and Sero help you stand up and check over your wounds. Thankfully, none of your other classmates were injured, so you were the only one who needed some medical attention. 

Mina offers to take you to the infirmary and you agree to do so. As you leave the room, you briefly glance at Bakugou and see guilt replace his angry expression.

Your pink friend had dropped you off and went back to class after you insisted that you were okay on your own. 

You bow your head to the nurse as you exit the school’s infirmary alone. Once you’ve closed the door, you’re surprised to see Bakugou looking down and leaning against the wall next to you with his hands in his pocket. When he realizes that you’ve come out, he gives you a look that’s difficult to read before walking in the direction back to class.

You follow Bakugou quickly until you fall into step with him. “What are you doing here, Bakugou-kun?”

The boy glowers at the floor in thought before mumbling out something incoherent.

You tint your head in confusion. “What was that?”

He mumbles something again a little louder, but you still can’t understand a word he says. “Bakugou-kun, you’re gonna have to speak a bit louder than that.”

Bakugou’s scowl only grows deeper as if he doesn’t want to repeat what he had just said. You know he’s still upset from before, so you don’t want to push him any further. You’re so focused on wondering what could’ve made Bakugou this irritated that you don’t realize that he was lagging slightly behind you.

You’re startled when you feel gentle arms enclose around your shoulders from behind you and you freeze in place. You’re even more shocked when you hear Bakugou’s gruff voice next to your ear. “I said I’m sorry.”

Butterflies fill your stomach as you realize that Bakugou is voluntarily initiating a back hug and showing you a side to him that he would never dare to show anyone else. You lean back into his toned chest and let out a content hum. “It’s okay.”

He slightly tightens his hold and eventually leans his head against your neck. You both stay like this for a minute longer just enjoying each other’s company in the empty hallway away from the rest of the world.

You could get used to this.

level 4: lazy cuddles (+ a shared smile)

If someone had told you that you’d be cuddling Bakugou Katsuki in his dorm room on a rainy Saturday afternoon a couple months back, you wouldn’t have believed them. 

But, here you are, sitting comfortably on Bakugou’s bed while the boy himself was practically engulfing your body with his own, his arms loosely circled around your waist. One of your hands is scrolling through your phone while the other is carding through your boyfriend’s soft blonde locks. Bakugou’s eyes are closed and a comfortable silence fills the room.

It was kind of cute how Bakugou became much more sluggish on rainy days, but you’re not gonna say that out loud unless you wanna risk setting him off. There weren’t any plans for the day and you spend almost every weekend together, so there was no rush to do something. 

An interesting news article about a pro hero catches your attention, so you don’t notice that your hand has stopped its ministrations on Bakugou’s hair. 

Red eyes open blearily. “Why’d you stop?”

You blink twice as you take your attention away from your phone and stare at your boyfriend. There’s a slight frown adorning his face and it takes all of your self control to refrain from pinching his cheeks. 

Opting to give into Bakugou’s subtle pleading eyes, you place your phone on the nightstand and shift your body so that you’re now laying comfortably against his chest. Your hand returns to his hair and your eyes meet his. Based on the glint from him orbs, he’s satisfied.

You and Bakugou smile at each other. The kind of smile that’s only ever shared between the two of you.

level 5: pauses between kisses

You and Bakugou have been out of the dorms frequently since you both have been going to your own respective internships. You try to message each other as often as possible, but your busy schedules don’t really leave much room for free time. It’s been weeks since you’ve properly spent time together, and at this point, you just miss him.

It seems like someone has finally answered your prayers when the two of you are finally able to schedule to have lunch together for an hour today. It’s not as much time as you’d like, but you’ll take anything to be with him.

You both decide to meet up at a fairly secluded park near your internship before eating together. However, any thoughts about your hunger are thrown out the window as soon as your eyes meet. You and Bakugou begin to close the distance between you with hurried steps. 

The first thing you do is throw your arms around his neck and kiss him. Bakugou reciprocates the kiss with fervor and places his warm hands on your waist. 

There’s nothing you want more at the moment, so you’re a bit disappointed when Bakugou pulls away first. 

His face doesn’t move too far away from your own and he simply just stares at you silently. He does this every so often and you’re always surprised by the varying emotions swirling in his eyes. 

His gaze is deep as his eyes shift around each feature of your face before landing on your eyes. After a couple more seconds, a soft smile makes its way onto Bakugou’s lips. 

Your heart flutters and you suddenly feel a bit shy. You’re about to step back when Bakugou’s hands suddenly encircle around you and his arms embrace you tightly. His lips find their way back to yours and it feels like he’s pouring all of his love into the kiss.

You feel like you could stay like this forever, but a loud rumbling noise breaks you out of your trance. It seems like your boyfriend was hungrier than he let on. 

“Not a fucking word, (Y/N).” 

A giggle escapes your lips as you both pull away from each other. “Whatever you say, Katsuki.”

A light shade of pink tints Bakugou’s cheeks. He grabs a hold of your hand and begins to grumble about places to eat. You make the effort to interlock your fingers as you both discuss what to do for the rest of your time together.

[nose-bandaid]

Pentagon as Students

trying something new today! i hope you enjoy it, i had a lot of fun writing this:)

~based on the different kinds of people i’ve witnessed at my high school~

=====

JINHO

- that one kid that actually has their shit together

- though on the inside he’s in a constant state of panic

- knows (and meets) all the deadlines and works when he’s supposed to

- but he’s secretly watching his classmates goof around at the same time

- hands in perfect projects, does well on tests, gets good grades,,, others are jealous of him

- probably had the homework done 3 days before it was assigned tbh

- teachers love to have him in their class 

- and it’s totally not because they sometimes rely on him to help keep track of important dates

- when he does make a mistake though, he’ll get clowned for it for the rest of the year

- but that’s just cause people are happy he’s not good at EVERYTHING

- and even though he seems like a teacher’s pet, he always does his class a solid and never reminds the teacher of the homework they had

- makes good study notes and people end up leeching off of him cause he can’t say no

- never brings food to class but always steals some from others

- so if your bag of chips is suddenly empty, you know why

- was a bus monitor when he was in elementary school and is still damn proud of it, mentions it whenever he has the opportunity to

- people know him, but he doesn’t know them so he’s always like ??? when random people keep on saying hi to him

HUI

- loud. what else can i say?

- raises his hand at almost everything just to ask the teacher a lot of questionable things

- but once in a while he comes up with a really good question that shocks everyone so we take our chances and listen to him

- doesn’t sit on his seat properly but that’s ok because honestly who does?

- he falls off the chair every other day though, so some teachers are concerned of this habit of his

- delivers some of the BEST presentations

- like the kinds of presentations that are good because everyone is excited to see what that person has to offer this time

- when the teacher walks in, he’s that one kid who asks them how they’ve been so that he can delay class

- likes to make conversations with the teacher on unrelated topics when he’s supposed to be working

- always manages to get the teacher really involved in their conversation though, so they don’t even notice that he’s not working

- is distracted like 70% of the time but tries his best

- hands his work in at the absolute last minute

- like if it’s due at midnight, it’s coming in at 11:59 pm

- can be found in almost every single club and no one knows how he manages to do it

HONGSEOK

- we already know that he’s the sporty kid like that’s a given

- is a part of pretty much all the school teams so he’s constantly leaving class to go to tournaments and whatnot

- teachers are so used to him being absent that sometimes they forget he’s even in their class

- the one who offers to carry things whenever the teacher says they need help

- holds the door open to look cool

- he’s never seen studying but he always comes out of tests with a pretty decent grade

- no one knows if it’s actually because he’s big brained or if it’s because he’s really lucky

- sleeps during first period, eats his lunch during the period right after lunchtime

- defends his actions with the fact that he’s busy with his clubs but he was probably just walking around school doing random shit during lunchtime

- the kind of person who would jump to tap the ceiling or the top of a doorframe just to “casually” flex

- doesn’t change out of his sport clothes half the time to once again, “casually” flex

- everyone in the school knows him for a very wide range of reasons

E’DAWN

- the quiet yet loud kid

- would just sit there (not doing his work) being an unbothered king for most of the time

- but when it’s his time to shine oH boy

- everyone has to brace themselves cause they know they’re in for a hell of a ride

- no one knows what to expect when it comes to his presentations

- one time it ended up with Hui duct taped to the wall along with five broken chairs and an angry janitor

- shouts randomly along with hui

- would say some of the oddest things when the teacher asks a question

- on his phone listening to music for the entirety of class, the headphones never come out, even if you’re talking to him

- when the teacher walks by he always has to rush to close/switch his tabs

- is a boss at that move though, and the teachers never suspect him

- asks to go to the bathroom but just takes a walk around the school instead

- makes a funny face every time he passes by a class with his friends in it

- if you walk down the halls during lunch, you might find him sleeping in a little hiding spot in the hallways

- if not, he’s probably running around outside creating a scene

SHINWON

- known for being the embodiment of chaos in classrooms, so classes are always 10x better when he’s in it

- borrows notes from jinho the most

- will copy your homework in the morning if he didn’t do it the night before

- and will proceed to get a higher mark than you, despite writing the exact same thing

- he actually does his work and hands in it on time for the most part, but no one seems to pay attention to that fact

- sits with his chair facing the opposite way if you can imagine what i’m getting at here lol

- really good at sneaking snacks into class but he always chews too loudly so all his efforts end up going to waste when the teacher finds out

- takes long bathroom breaks and no one knows what he’s even doing in there, or if he even went to the bathroom in the first place

- he’s always seen with delivered take out during lunch and people get jealous cause they want to eat fast food too

- has to fend off the hoard of kids that come his way and is pretty good at it by now

- cause he has to save the fries for when he needs to bribe jinho for notes again

- the one that keeps on standing up during class and walking around to bother people

- like he literally just stands up at random times and walks up to someone on the other side of the room and strikes a conversation that’s completely unrelated to the class

- no one knows what motivates him to do that and he just keeps on standing up no matter how many times he’s sent back to his seat

YEO ONE

- minds his own business, is in his own world

- watches the others along with jinho and tries to not be involved in their shenanigans

- always ends up involved in their shenanigans

- is oddly chaotic, new people would be shocked when they see how chaotic he could be, but everyone else is used to it by now

- has a fat crush that his whole friend group knows about

- and now they all feel obligated to get them together so they’re always nagging him

- on that note, a bunch of people fall for him but he’s just too oblivious to notice

- i know this is oddly specific but he actually washes his hands for the correct length of time

- student body president because everyone loves him, does his job very well

- especially with school spirit !! participates fully in those, and tries his best to convince others to join in as well

- buys food from the cafeteria religiously even though the food’s a little subpar

- “i need to support this school in every way i can”

- has a part time job, people strive to be hardworking like him

- honestly this guy’s pretty neutral, he just exists and makes the world better with his presence it’s as simple as that:)

YANAN

- corner seat kind of guy, so that he can sneak in naps and just be hidden in general

- doesn’t speak unless called on

- listens to EVERY single thing being said around him, so he’s loaded with gossip

- has blackmail, will use it

- like he films people when they’re presenting,,, what is he going to do with that video? we do not know

- always bringing his coat into class, no matter how bulky it is, and just doesn’t use his locker at all

- but he has all of his friends’ locker codes saved on his phone for some reason

- eats his lunch at the wrong time too, but unlike the others (who just go with a full 3 course meal during class), he scarfs it down within 10 seconds and moves on like nothing happened

- emits soft boy energy but people fear him

- class is always hyped when it’s his turn to go up to the board and no one really knows why, that’s just how it works

- maybe it’s because his personality and confidence just skYROCKETS and everyone loves seeing that side of him

- the whole class just hypes him up on a daily basis by now

- doesn’t share anything with the others no matter how much they beg, whether it’d be for notes, tools, or food

- “snitches get stitches, bitch”

- “you know that’s not the correct saying right?”

- “i said what i said.”

YUTO

- always takes the seat near the back

- not necessarily because he’s emo (though part of it is because he is emo) but also because he is a modest boy™

- tosses a ball back and forth with his friends in the locker bays during his free time, ultimately posing as a threat to the rest of the student body

- has almost hit a teacher by accident once with a baseball, but we overlook that event

- silently rages during every single competition (especially when he falls down the rankings in Kahoot!) but hides it well

- he holds the reputation as a student who does their work when they’re supposed to, but one time you walked by his laptop and he was watching anime so now you’re not so sure

- once thought that a project was due a week before the actual due date

- had a small breakdown but was able to get over it

- he had many other close calls though, so he relies on kino or jinho to keep him in check

- has all the school equipment you could possibly need with him at all times

- so people are constantly borrowing things from him

- do they give it back? usually

- but he will get salty and hold grudges with the people who supposedly “lost” his items

- or if they say, use his entire glue stick despite it being brand new when he gave it to them

- if you hear some music down the halls, it’s probably him playing the guitar

- fully reads the club posters on the wall so he’s one of the few people who are actually aware of what’s going on

KINO

- always keeping up with the new trends

- the “i’ll help you with your work! :)” kind of guy

- always answering questions in the group chat i don’t know what the others would do without him

- he gets sad if people don’t reply to his messages properly though

- the only person on jinho’s good list because he’s actually diligent with his work

- goes a full 200% on any project that has any artistic aspect in it, even if it doesn’t count for marks

- is the one who reminds others of the due dates so some people have a love-hate relationship with him

- somehow knows almost everyone in the school

- if you want to walk to class with him, you gotta be prepared to take like 50 stops along the way cause he’s gonna hug everyone he knows and strike a conversation with them

- is popular simply because everyone loves him

- you can find him dancing in the hallway occasionally, probably making tiktoks

- decorates his friends’ lockers on their birthday with pictures of them

- the kid that offers to help the teacher complete tasks almost 100% of the time

- volunteers at the other school nearby to help take care of the little children

- always supporting club events

WOOSEOK

- puts memes in his slideshows (and is very good at finding the perfect meme for every occasion)

- plays games on his phone when the teacher’s talking, somehow doesn’t get called on

- instead like, yuto gets called on for searching something up on his phone

- the kid who constantly yells out random answers (or just yells in general) during Kahoot! to mess other people up

- the kind of student who casually looks over at the person beside him during a test

- defends himself by saying that he just wanted to see how far they were on the test

- has a tough time during locker clean out because there were just too many things in there

- at one point there was an ant infestation after he accidentally left his lunch there overnight, but he took care of that quietly and doesn’t mention it ever again

- asks obvious questions into the group chat and tries to argue his point only to figure out where he went wrong after reflecting on his messages

- random shouter number 3

- him, hui, and e’dawn can sometimes be seen after school trying to summon their very late school bus with their screams

- it never worked though, unfortunately

- runs a business where people pay him to go to the store nearby and buy snacks for them

- he actually makes quite a bit from it

=====

quick disclaimer: ofc i think the boys would've been good students at school so this is just something written based on the chaotic energy i’ve watched them emit throughout my time stanning them:) this is just for entertainment purposes!

~ tiny

[whattaloser]

Why I’m a Leftist

I know I’m probably just some dude who reblogs cool stuff to most of my followers but I’ve got a nice long story/rant about my political beliefs here that I’ve been wanting to write for awhile

I am a leftist first and foremost because I value human life. Everyone matters. No person is inherently more important than another person. Everyone has inherent rights that should not be infringed. People who infringe on other’s rights are morally wrong to do so. In essence my leftism is based on doing what is right. Obviously everyone has their own opinion on what is right but what is vitally important is knowing why your moral code is right. This is why so many people become liberals or conservatives or otherwise rather than leftists. They simply do not know enough about how the world works. There are a lot of reasons they don’t know, not the least of which is intentional covering up history and preventing education. I don’t believe people who aren’t leftists are stupid, but I do believe leftists know more. It’s kinda fucked up but it’s the only way you can explain inconsistencies in other’s values.

My path to leftism was full of cringe. When i was 7 years old Al Gore was running against George Bush for president. I did not know enough to have a real opinion on it but I am happy to say that I wanted Al Gore to win. This thought was based on very little if any logical reason. I basically flipped a coin in my head I think. Or maybe there was some outside influence that I wasn’t aware of, like my older sister who I looked up to might have said she liked Al gore. Either way, from then on I was in favor of democrats and did not like George Bush. When 9/11 happened I remembered thinking how dumb it was that people lined up around the block to get gas. Even as a child I knew that some buildings going down wasn’t going to end the great nation of the United States. In general I thought the United States was a great country. I knew from movies and tv as well as elementary school history that the United States was the most powerful country in the world. 

I recall in Sixth grade my teacher mentioned she liked George Bush because he was against gay marriage. Somehow at the time my opinion was the opposite despite being raised Catholic. I believed in god until I graduated high school and suddenly my desire to be religious slipped away and so did my belief. I do not consider this a great loss. 

Sometime in middle school or early high school I had solidified my opinion that the war in Iraq and Afghanistan was pointless and George Bush was a bad president. I was heavily influenced by movies and somewhat by video games that had imparted plenty of anti-war messages. Talks with my dad about nuclear missiles, watching History channel shows about world war 2, and playing Metal Gear Solid which had explicit nuclear disarmament messages, all informed me on the horrors of war. This was not enough to make me totally anti-military. In high school I wanted to join the military because I thought it was an easy way to get life experience and eventually pay for college. I was attracted to the Marines because of how cool movies like The Rock and video games like Call of Duty made it seem to be a Marine. I thought they were the best of the best. I was simultaneously against war, against veteran worship, and very pro-military. I was indoctrinated by years of government propaganda but also disillusioned by all forms of media including the book All Quiet on the Western Front which was about a soldier becoming disillusioned by witnessing horrors of war and the negative impact it had on everyone in his country. I spoke with a recruiter during my senior year and expressed my desire to be a Marine but I told him I wanted to wait a year after high school so I could get physically fit enough. The recruiter did not care that I was underweight and out of shape. He didn’t even care that I was very enthusiastic about joining, he was still putting on his best salesman demeanor which made me incredibly uneasy. The experience is supposed to pressure people into signing up on the spot, I think they even had forms for me to sign (i can’t really remember though) but I was not ready and was aware enough how I was being manipulated although not entirely cognizant. After that I no longer wanted to be in the military.

I also have to point out that I grew up in an unstable household. My parents were both loving but they were flawed and made mistakes and had problems. My dad was a typical Gen x man’s man. A little bit too emotionally repressed, but actually really good with kids when it came to play time and still is. He worked a lot because my mother couldn’t. My mother has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder as long as I can remember. Her medical bills related to her problems combined with other financially bad decisions by my parents caused my home life to be fraught. I lived in varying degrees of poverty until my parents separated and me and my siblings moved with my mother to her parents’ house away from my father. Prior to moving though, we endured great financial difficulty. We were unable to afford school lunches but could not apply for free or reduced lunches because technically my father made a lot of money, however it was all garnished for medical bills. My father always tells about how he bought a car that had hidden frame damage and when he attempted to sue the dealership for selling a bad car he lost and was garnished for that as well. Despite making over 25 dollars an hour in 1999, my father could not afford school lunches for three kids and couldn’t afford to pay the gas bill. Without going into too much more detail, life sucked and continued to suck until I graduated, at least financially. I still found plenty of joy and it wasn’t always that bad. We still found ways to have good things like video games and we could always rewatch old movies but there’s a lot of psychic weight that comes with being that poor as a child and I’m sure it affects me and my ability to empathize with others who in bad conditions. 

So i watched a lot of movies and documentaries, read a lot of books growing up, discovered internet forums at the age of 11, played video games, moved to a town that had a very large Hispanic population, and I even grew up poor. All of this life experience turned me into a very average liberal upon graduating high school. I was a very optimistic 18 year old. I thought science could save the world. If I was 18 today I would be an average redditor stereotype probably. The point here though is I still wasn’t a leftist. Only vaguely progressive and full of optimism. This is when I got sucked into the anti-feminist pipeline.

I can’t remember what exactly what I had going on in my life but I remember it was around the time of Gamergate. Everyone on the internet, celebrities, and pop culture were saying “if you believe in equality between genders you’re a feminist” an did not like that. And there was a ton of people online to tell me I was right in not liking that. They all said feminism was not necessary anymore because legally you couldn’t discriminate against women and I agreed. Gamergate made it worse for reasons too complicated to get into in this already long post but suffice it say I was “pro Gamergate.” This put me at odds with my closes friends who thought feminism was great and had no qualms with it, and were already embracing the idea of being a “social justice warrior.” Despite reading all kinds of anti-feminist think pieces and reveling in the discourse, I was still very progressive and liberal minded person. Still thought the military was bad, that black people were discriminated against etc. But so many aspects of anti-feminism were appealing to me as a white guy who tried their hardest to do what they’re told is right, had low self esteem, undiagnosed adhd and depression, and a fundamental misunderstanding of what feminism was. Two things got me out of anti-feminism though. The first and most important thing was having friends who were patient with me about it. I didn’t reveal how into anti-feminism I was because I was ashamed but they could sense it and pushed back when they could. The second thing that got me out of it was actually finding feminists online and reading what they had to say, staying away from poorly written clickbait articles that fueled misogynist tirades against feminism. After reading and learning from feminists it finally clicked. Our society is patriarchal and that affects how people interact with each other regardless of what is legal. Many of the complaints of anti-feminism talk about how men have it in society, so how can society be patriarchal. It’s because of patriarchy that men are put in bad positions. Some of the more self aware anti-feminists had retorts against these ideas but they were emotionally charged. There’s still some anti-feminists I have respect for because of how well prepared and logical they were when it came to disputing feminism. But when it came down to the fundamental tenants of feminsim all they could respond with was anger or outright denial of reality. (If you’re like I was and don’t understand how anyone can thing modern feminism is good please feel free to ask me more, I just can’t get into specifics in this long ass post) Anyways, once you understand patriarchy and how it affects an individuals actions then you can start seeing how other institutions and cultural norms can affect an individual. This is basically fundamentals of leftism. I’d say about 90% of my path to leftism was just naturally absorbing cultural and historical information through consumption of media. The most conservative people I know are people who haven’t read very many books or seen very many movies. I’m not saying watching Austin Powers at the age of 10 will make everyone a leftist but constantly recontextualizing the world by learning something new, even if you learned it from some dumb comedy movie, can give you better grounding in a shared reality.  Don’t know how to end this but I want to say when I was a teenager I thought “communism is good in theory but it doesn’t work in practice” and I had almost no historical basis for it other than the vague notion that USSR = bad despite having consumed a massive amount of media. None of it taught me what communism actually was, I didn’t know who Karl Marx was, and I had no clue why communism in the USSR failed. You can know a lot without knowing the truth so if you’re struggling with a loved one who is mind poisoned by conservative keep in mind that they know a lot but they’re missing something important to give clarity. 

This has been my Ted Talk

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Wait to Find the Silver Lining

PART TWELVE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: mentions of blood and injuries, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 3.8K

Summary: On the night of their first date, Ella and Jess end up in the emergency room.

For the first time in quite a while, Ella had the morning off, sitting with Rory and Lorelai at the diner’s counter for breakfast instead of standing on the opposite side to serve them. Mid-September, and the sun shone down on Stars Hollow warmly, but the breeze had already turned chilly. Autumn was falling on Connecticut fast. Due to shifts at the diner and the start of school, neither Jess nor Ella had been able to free up enough time for a real date. Of course, each lunch at school Jess bothered to show up to, and every shift at the diner brought them together. But Jess was anxious to truly take her out. He was partially convinced Luke had booked both of them up so much to prevent a date from ever happening, but Jess had argued with him enough to earn them both an early closing on Friday night. They were only scheduled until eight, instead of nine or ten.

Ella had begun feeling excitement and nerves well up inside her, and they only grew as the day approached. She’d assured him she would be paying for half of whatever they were doing, after the first date. She hadn’t gotten him to budge on the first date, though not for lack of trying. He wanted to show her all the upsides of dating, he’d said, like getting to go out for free. Sipping from her giant mug of tea, she felt her eyes flicking over to the checkered curtain from which Jess would appear at any moment. It was odd; she’d never had a real relationship, had never had such pleasant tension build within her.

“Hey, Stevens!” Lorelai exclaimed, breaking Ella’s reverie.

Ella blinked in surprise, exiting the cloud of her thoughts back to reality. “Sorry, sorry. What’s up?”

Lorelai snorted and rolled her eyes. “My god, you two are like puppies. Waiting to see lover boy this morning?”

Blushing, Ella let out an unconvincing scoff. “Lover boy wishes. Just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Like what your kids will look like?” Rory chimed in teasingly.

Ella groaned. “You guys keep this up, you’ll never be graced with my presence for breakfast again. And I’ll wait extra long to serve you your coffee tomorrow.”

Both Gilmore women narrowed their eyes at her.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Lorelai wagered.

“Try me,” Ella said, winking and taking another sip.

Luke ambled back over, having just delivered an order to a table by the front window. He’d caught the last bit of their conversation, stance grumpy and curmudgeonly as always when he stood in front of the three of them again. “You should see those two during shifts together. It’s like I’m not even here.”

“A hostile work environment, huh?” Lorelai asked, feigning sympathy.

Again, Ella rolled her eyes. She knew neither Luke nor Lorelai had yet warmed up to the idea of the two of them being together. She knew they feared her being corrupted, but she was confident enough in the head atop her own shoulders. Matters of the heart could always be handled.  

“Yeah, whatever. You’ll be spared the agony for a couple hours tonight, though. I’ve got some stuff to pick up from my aunt in New Britain. I’ll be here around six.”

Luke nodded. “At least some semblance of peace will be restored.”

Ella gave a doubtful look. “I wouldn’t speak too soon. Jess’ll still be here, after all.”

Right on cue, Jess trudged down the stairs and emerged from the curtain, rubbing a tired eye with the palm of his hand. A smirk crossed his features at the sight of Ella, though he was acutely aware of all the others witnessing the interaction.

“Hi,” he said, nodding a little at her.

“Hi,” Ella answered, smiling shyly.

“Ah, speak of the Satan,” Lorelai said.

Jess didn’t give more than a momentary glance Lorelai’s way before going to grab a coffee to-go and a donut from under one of the glass domes.

“That’s not the saying, mom,” Rory piped up, raising an eyebrow at Lorelai.

Lorelai nodded over her coffee. “I know. But I think it fits him better. A little more umph, y’know?”

.   .   .

A rag thrown over her shoulder, Ella hummed under her breath and tried to fight the smile threatening to brighten her face. It was only seven-thirty, after all. She could wait another half hour to truly feel the excitement. Luke would surely scold her if she was too giddy as they closed up, and she wanted to get through the night without being yelled at for a lack of professionalism. The boss had been in a worse mood than usual lately, and Ella sensed it was not entirely due to her and Jess’s new relationship. Blondie lyrics flew from her mouth in a happy whisper as she stacked the chairs on the cleaned tabletops. She could hear the sloshing of water and clinking of plates from the back, Jess on dish duty. Luke was restocking some items in the back. She bounced a little on her heels as she walked, weaving through the tables. Before work, she’d been able to see her aunt, going to fetch the items she’d left over the summer but kept forgetting to pick up. It brightened her mood even more. She pushed up the sleeves of her black shirt as she kept working, smoothing her denim mini-skirt with anxious hands.

“I gotta go to Doose’s for a few things,” Luke announced as he exited the stock room. “Be back in about thirty minutes, alright?”

“Sure. I’ll manage,” Ella nodded, throwing him a good-natured smile.

Luke snorted a chuckle. “Just don’t let Jess burn the place down.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Not more than five minutes later, Ella was almost finished with the front of house work. Supplies were placed in proper cubbies behind the counter, menus were wiped off, leftover pastries put away. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she put her hands on her hips and racked her brain to make sure there was no task she had forgotten.

“Ow! Dammit!” she heard Jess exclaim from the back, hissing in pain.

Ella furrowed her brows and rushed to the back. “What’s wrong?”

He stood before the steaming vat of dishes, water tinged pink, gripping his left hand firmly in his right. Blood was leaking through his fingers and down his arms, leaving thin, reddish streaks.

“I was reaching in the dish pit and I guess I hit a rogue knife and now here we are!” Jess recounted angrily, through gritted teeth.

As Ella stepped forward, she reached for his injury and he flinched out of instinct.

“Just let me see,” she said softly, and he slowly took his right hand away.

With a gentle touch, she grabbed his left wrist and assessed the cut. There was a deep slice from the base of his pinky down halfway to his wrist. Ella knew the knife which had cut him was almost positively from the kitchen, not one of the dull patron’s utensils. Clicking her tongue in exasperation, she reached above the dish pit to grab a clean towel and pressed it to the wound. He held it there when she took her hands away.

Sighing through her nose, she took him by the shoulder and began guiding him to the front. “That’s gonna need stitches. C’mon, I came from New Britain so I’ve got my car. We’re going to the emergency room.”

Jess’s eyes widened and his pale forehead shone with a light sheen of sweat. “What? No! Let’s just wait until Luke gets back. He can use superglue or something.”

Scribbling a note on the pad from the apron she still wore, she snorted doubtfully. “Wait for Luke while you bleed out? Yeah, right. That’s a deep fucking cut, Jess. Let’s go now. He’ll see the note when he gets back and he’ll meet us there.”

“It’s not even that bad,” he argued, pressing harder on his left hand in hopes of making the bleeding stop.

She scoffed. “Okay, tough guy. Let’s just go for my own peace of mind then, alright?”

While speaking, she’d slammed the frantic note down on the counter and gone to the hanger near the door to grab her bag and keys. Inside, her heart was pounding in her chest and thumping in her ears, but she tried to exhibit outward calm. Color had drained from Jess’s face, and the redness seeped through the white towel he held to the cut.

“But what about tonight?” Jess asked after a moment, disappointment in his voice.

Ella offered a small smile, bringing a hand to his back and leading him out the door. She made sure to lock it as they rushed out. “We’ll do it next weekend, okay? I’ll enjoy dating a lot more if my date is alive.”

“I’m sorry,” he grumbled, slightly dazed as he followed her onto the sidewalk and to her car, parked right behind Luke’s truck outside the front door of the diner.

“Don’t apologize, Jess,” she said, going around to the driver’s side and unlocking it.

Before Jess could attempt to open his door, Ella ran back around and opened it for him. He nodded at her gratefully, though a blush heated up his cheeks as he sat down. As she shut her creaky driver’s side door with a slam! and started up the sputtering engine, Jess managed to click his seatbelt into its place on his own, despite Ella’s attempts to help him.

“For the record, I didn’t mean I was sorry about this,” he said, gesturing to his bloody hand. “I meant I was sorry about how much I’m gonna make fun of this car. What the hell are you doing driving a station wagon, Stevens?”

She laughed as she pulled away from Luke’s, doing her best to remain under the speed limit and not run the stop signs.

.   .   .

Ammonia and disinfectant burned her nostrils, and she had to blink back the wateriness in her eyes. The walls of the small hospital room were a blinding white, and the flickering of the fluorescent lights was almost nauseating. But Ella kept a calm tone as she ran her hand up and down over Jess’s back, sitting next to him on the exam table, which was covered with crinkling white paper.

The nurse cleaned out Jess’s cut with freezing cold water, and Jess tried his best to not let the pain cross his features. Instead, he listened to Ella, distracting him with random rankings of songs. He disagreed with her judgement frequently, starting weak but playful arguments. When the cut was cleaned, the nurse, a man with a tired face and kind blue eyes, set Jess’s hand palm-up on a small silver table before them, sterile tools set around it. The nurse interrupted their conversation when he brought out a syringe, and explained he would have to give Jess shots inside the cut in order to numb it before sewing it up. Jess nodded, gulping as he straightened up slightly and prepared himself. He blew out a long breath and his face paled even more.

Ella, sitting to his right, grabbed his uninjured hand and squeezed. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he assured her, trying to hide his grimace at the thought of what was about to happen. “I just...I don’t like needles.”

“Oh. Well, don’t look at it,” Ella said, trying to calm him as she glanced down at his hand, into which the nurse was about to stick the syringe filled with a numbing agent. “I guess that means matching tattoos are out of the question, huh?”

“I’d say so,” he replied, chuckling.

“Damn,” she shook her head, teasing. “I guess I won’t end up with Jack Nicholson’s face on my ass after all.”

Jess grunted a little and squeezed her hand tighter as the nurse gave him the first shot. Using her free hand to rub circles over his back again, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek to reassure him. In spite of himself, Jess couldn’t help but lean into her touch.

.   .   .

The process was painful but quick, and Ella managed to keep Jess’s muted laughter going through the whole thing. Jess didn’t think it was possible to smile with a curved needle stitching up his flesh. And while the numbing had been upsetting in its own way, he could barely feel the actual sewing. Ella’s thin hand drew rhythmic circles on his back, and the nurse was just snipping up the thread by the time Luke ran into the room. Other than his baseball cap sitting slightly askew and the frantic look in his eyes, he’d maintained his gruff, stoic mask.

“Nice of you to show, Uncle Luke,” Jess drawled flatly, the nurse winding white gauze around his hand.

Luke frowned at him, and was about to retort, but the nurse piped in to instruct Jess not to get the wound wet and to come back in a few days to get the stitches pulled out. Nodding in thanks and understanding, Jess told the man he was good to go. Then, there were three. And Luke stood with his hands on his hips and stared the two of them down. Even after a few weeks, it was still unnerving to see their hands clasped together.

Sighing through his nose, Luke cleared his throat and tried to keep calm. “Why didn’t you come over and get me before driving all the way out here?”

“I didn’t want Jess to die inside the diner. I hear it brings down retail costs,” she said defensively.

Jess snorted.

Luke rolled his eyes but nodded, could see the panic still painted on her face. He crossed his arms over his chest and stepped towards them. There was a long, awkward silence before he finally spoke. “Alright. I’m sorry. Thanks for...driving.”

Ella nodded in earnest. “You’re welcome.”

“But you can go home, alright? I still have some paperwork and stuff to fill out,” Luke said tiredly.

Nodding again, Ella cast a glance at Jess. He flexed his injured hand once or twice, testing it out.

“Don’t worry, Stevens. I’m good,” he said, catching the worry in her face. “At least I’ll get off dish pit for a little while.”

“That’s true,” she said. “Wait to find the silver lining, Mr. Sunshine.”

Jess scoffed. “Whatever, Daria.”

“Ugh, it’s sickening,” Luke groaned, rolling his eyes at the interaction.

Ella snickered, shaking her head slightly as she stood up. “I’ll see you later, Mariano.”

“Seems that way. Just drive a little slower on the way home, huh?” he scolded, looking over to speak to Luke. “Speed Racer over here couldn’t stay less than twenty over the limit.”

“Traitor,” she shot back, smirking. “You should get them to give you a sticker, kid. You were very brave.”

Jess feigned a glare and was about to retort, but she pecked his lips instead and gave his shoulder a final squeeze. Ella grabbed her bag and made for the hallway.

As she passed Luke, she gave a joking salute. “Happy to be of service, boss.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “Tomorrow morning, okay?”

“I’ll be there.”

.   .   .

Her shift, a double, passed little by little. The hands of her watch seemed to slow down each time she took a peek, torturous, glacial ticking. Luke had his hands full with Caesar at a doctor’s appointment in the morning and Jess with the day off. The extra work helped the day go by, if nothing else. She’d asked after Jess, and Luke said only that he was out. It made Ella all but laugh, biting back a smirk as she thought of Jess rushing out in the morning with a Walmart vest hidden somewhere on his person. Shangri-la, indeed. She knew he had to be back at some point, though, and had asked to help close, get a little overtime. Luke never refused her for overtime. Especially not after the period following her mother’s death when the diner’s leftovers had been pretty much the only thing keeping her household afloat.

On her lunch break, she’d skipped the meal and instead made trips to both the video store and the makeshift movie house. Kirk somehow was in charge of both places for the day, and it had taken almost all of her patience to negotiate favors with him. She’d promised to make three of her rhubarb pies for the diner the next weekend. Everyone in town hated rhubarb except Kirk.

The evening brought rain, and it made Ella feel cozy as she closed up the diner. Luke was back dealing with the dishes, what with Jess down for the count. Caesar hummed some eighties song while he cleaned the kitchen, but somehow managed to leave early despite the time and energy his closing dance moves took up. Ella was almost finished with everything, nothing left but to sweep up, by nine. She was almost worried Jess wouldn’t return and her plan would fall through, but he ran over from the bus stop at five past nine. His leather jacket was slick with rainwater and his hair was dripping, but his stitched hand was dry in his pocket and he still cracked a smile when he saw Ella.

“You should buy an umbrella,” she said, scrunching up her nose as she ran a hand through his wet locks.

Jess only shrugged. “I like to live dangerously.”

“I’ve noticed. How’s your hand?” she asked, resuming her work on the floor while Jess took a seat at a stool by the counter.

Again, the nonchalant shrug. “Won’t be modelling bracelets any time soon, but I’ll live.”

“Glad to hear it,” she said, then went over and placed the broom in the corner near the stockroom where it belonged. She couldn’t hide her smile; she loved both giving and receiving surprises. “So. Got any plans tonight?”

“Thought I’d crack the books,” he said, shrugging off his jacket. “Geometry, American History, really work on that ol’ GPA.”

Ella rolled her eyes, then came over in front of him. He laced his arms around her waist. With the customers all gone, Ella felt more comfortable with PDA. “Be careful, one of these days someone’s gonna take you seriously and you’ll have to make good on your word.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“Anytime,” she quipped. “Anyway, I thought we should do our ‘official date’ tonight, instead of next weekend.”

Jess rolled his eyes at her air-quotes, and sighed through his nose. “It’s past nine in Stars Hollow. Nothing’s open.”

She feigned deep thought. “I think ‘nothing’ is far too absolute a term. You’d be surprised.”

“Oh, would I?” he teased, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, Mariano, I think you would.”

.   .   .

Hands entwined, Jess and Ella ran down Main Street towards the movie house, only partially shielded by store awnings. She had refused to tell him exactly what was going on, only that he better be hungry for popcorn. By the time they made it in through the front door, Ella’s long hair, tied half-up, half-down, was frizzy and damp. But her cheeks were rosy and her smile was wide. The night had cooled down, and the heat in the movie house was welcome. Immediately, she shed her coat and hung it on the hook by the door. Jess followed, then trailed behind her as she made her way over to the ancient popcorn machine. There was one solitary bucket, kept warm in the center. Kirk stood beside it, looking stoic with his work vest, hands clasped in front of each other.

“Evening, patrons,” he said in a clipped tone, handing her the bucket.

Ella nodded, smirking. “Evening, Kirk. You can call us by our names.”

Kirk shook his head slightly, refusing to make direct eye contact. “Professionalism is always a top priority at the Stars Hollow Movie House, ma’am.”

“This isn’t even a real movie house and I bribed you with pie to do this showing,” Ella retorted.

Jess scoffed, smirking widely.

Sighing, Kirk finally met her eyes and his shoulders dropped in disappointment. “Ella, I’m an employee. I take all my jobs very seriously. I’m asking you to respect that.”

She bit back her smile and raised a hand in surrender. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Thank you for doing this. You’ll have your pie by next weekend.”

Kirk swallowed dryly, then returned to his solemn stance, offering nothing more. Jess cast Ella a suspicious glance, but she only took his uninjured hand again and led him to the red couch at the front of the room, nearest the projector screen. As soon as they sat down, the lights dimmed and they could hear Kirk booting up the projector.

“You paid him in pie?” he asked.

“It’s the universal currency.”

“I was gonna pay for our first date,” he argued, pouting slightly.

She shrugged. “Well, you can’t always get what you want, as the Stones would say.”

“Next time?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yes, Jess, if it’ll make you happy. Next time.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, jackass,” she replied, rolling her eyes at his stubbornness.

He let his eyes roam over the movie house, a place he didn’t remember ever stepping foot in. Dusty bookshelves flanked either side of the large screen. The air smelled like old, weathered pages and the buttery popcorn in the bucket at Ella’s side. Jess wasn’t sure, but he thought he could hear the heavy rain on the tin roof above. He wondered what the building had originally functioned as, considering it looked just like a suburban cottage. Ella’s hand in his, he felt almost comfortable enough to fall asleep on the huge red couch, despite his excited nerves and wet hair and bandaged hand.

“Okay, Stevens, the suspense is killing me,” Jess said after a pause, gesturing to the screen.

A mischievous grin crossed her face and she planted a kiss on his cold cheek.

“Since last night you had a fight with a knife, not to be confused with a knife fight,” she teased, ignoring the playful nudge Jess gave her with his elbow, “I figured having a private screening of one of Cameron Crowe’s masterpieces might make you feel better.”

Almost rendered speechless for a moment, Jess felt his heart flutter in his chest. A small, sincere smile crossed his face. “Well, Almost Famous is the best medicine for pretty much every ailment.”

She nodded, conspiratorial. “I whole-heartedly agree. It’s second only to Stephen King.”

Jess sighed through his nose, shaking his head. “You were so close to sounding refined.”

She snorted. “Hypocrite.”

As the bluish light of the projection came on the screen, the familiar music started and warmed Jess’s heart more than he would ever outwardly admit. They faced the movie, and spoke in hushed tones. He hoped the darkness would conceal his blush.

“Thank you, Eleanor, you didn’t have to do this,” he said, almost shyly.

“I wanted to.”

He looked over at her, and could see the image reflected in her hazel eyes. Bringing a hand to her cheek, gently turning her head, he pressed his lips to hers and smiled into the kiss.

[rora-s]

The Derivative  Chapter 7: Commonalities

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 6 

“You know I think the fact that I’m not even questioning the giant projector screen with Alexander Hamilton’s face on it in the living room means that I’ve been living with you guys way too long” I muttered, tossing my bag on the couch as I entered the house. 

“Hello Abby” Uncle C greeted with a chuckle as he looked over the screen and began to mark one of the two versions of Hamilton’s face on the screen. 

“Whattcha doing?” I inquired. 

“The FBI is working on a counterfeiting case and I’m helping determine the differences between some old fake bills and new fake bills made by the same counterfeiter” he explained, pointing out which one of the Hamiltons was which.

I looked over the image “check in the center of his brow” I advised. 

Charlie looked up and quickly circled the defect. “Thank you” he murmured, circling another difference on the treasurer's nostril. 

“Hello” Don called in greeting as he entered the house. 

“Hello” Charlie muttered in response. 

“Hi,” I greeted. 

“What are you doing?” Don asked, eyeing the projector. 

“I’m running a comparison between the counterfeit bills you found earlier today and the older bills that that secret service agent lady gave us.” Charlie explained “there’s a possibility that the small differences may yield some data about their current operation. By the way, I did not mean to cause a problem earlier.'' He added the apology in right along with his sentence. 

“You don’t have to apologize for anything” Don objected “I mean Agent Hall and I are- are- I mean, we worked it out. So…” Don dismissed the issue with a sigh. “You know if I left a box of stuff here?” 

“What kind of stuff?” Charlie inquired. 

“It’s just this one box in particular.” Don explained “when I moved back from Albuquerque. I thought I got everything, but it’s not in my apartment. I can’t remember where I put it” he turned to me “have you seen a box of my stuff” 

I shook my head “I wouldn’t know what it was if I had” 

Don nodded “you check the garage?” Charlie suggested. 

“Yeah” Don replied then the front door opened “that you Dad?” he called heading over. “Hey let me get the door” he offered, helping Alan whose arms were full of groceries. 

“You must have some kind of sixth sense.” Alan declared “I buy rib-eye and you just materialize” 

“Well actually…” Don started then paused “you say rib-eye?” 

“Yeah” Alan nodded. 

“With, like, a baked potato?” he asked Alan just chuckled then he spotted Charlie’s set up. 

“Oh, very nice, Charlie” Alan sighed “so how long is this going to be?” 

“This is just for a few days.” Charlie assured as Don took a seat. “I needed to look at this as soon as I possibly could” Uncle C knelt at his computer and changed the screen to the upper right hand corner of the bills “Now the spiral patterns in money are based on a technique called guilloche. It’s like a wheel within a wheel within a wheel; a pattern created by the additions and multiplications of nested sine waves. Same was used by Faberge to create those little famous eggs” 

“Oh well that explains it” Alan muttered and I chuckled. 

“What does this have to do with the case?” Don questioned. 

“I think they have a new artist,” Charlie declared, “in fact, I'm sure of it.” 

“How can you tell that?” Don asked 

“I’ve been running a wavelet analysis of these spirals I’m talking about.” Charlie informed “mathematicians at Dartmouth use a similar process to test authenticity of masterpiece paintings. Here, look it..” Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out a real ten “alright ten dollars. Now we don’t often think about it, but someone must’ve drawn this design, right?”

“You’re right?” Don nodded. 

“I want you to think of that artist as a runner on the beach” Charlie gave the visual “he’s leaving footprints which record every decision he makes; faster, slower, closer to the water, farther away. Now these,” he gestured to the screen “are counterfeit bills, a second artist trying to copy the original. A second runner. Now, when that second runner tries to follow the exact same path as the first, it’s impossible. Even if he’s being careful he can’t match the footprints without leaving evidence of himself. Different foot size, different stride, that’s how you spot a forgery. And when a third runner tries to match the footprints, he’ll leave evidence as well, but in a different way than the second runner.” Charlie explained “these two counterfeit bills have two different footprints.”

“Hence the new artist.” Don inferred. 

“You find that artist..” 

“Charlie we can’t find the counterfeiter,” Don objected “let alone the artist” 

“You keep on saying he’s an artist, this guy.” Alan spoke up “he’s not really an artist is he? He’s more like a copier” 

“Well he has to have some skill to draw something so detailed” I commented. 

“It’s actually, it’s more like being able to draw, you know say, the Mona Lisa. freehand.” Don supplied. 

“Oh I see” Alan muttered picking up the grocery bags and heading toward the kitchen. 

“What I can do now, Don,” Charlie continued “is to take this initial comparative analysis and…” 

Don was no longer listening to Charlie instead he got up and pulled out his phone. “Hey David it’s Don. Look, I want to expand the search, okay? Not just counterfeiters, but art forgers. Yeah alright” he hung up the phone and turned to his brother “good work” he declared before heading after Alan into the kitchen. 

“I think we gave him an idea,” I told Charlie. 

“I think you’re right,” the man agreed. 

_______________

The cafeteria was probably my least favorite place in school. At least in the back of the classroom I could tune people out and it was mostly quiet. In the cafeteria everything was loud, people were moving and cliques ran rampant.

I took my tray and headed toward a booth in the corner that was empty. I was almost there when something caught my foot and I fell to the ground, my tray clattering and spraying the chicken noodle soup I had been about to eat everywhere. 

“Watch where you’re going reject!” A girl who had been splashed by my food snapped standing straight up. 

“Really making a habit of this huh street rat?” the girl who had made it a habit to trip me asked from behind as I got to my knees. 

“You could really stand to come up with better insults” I voiced casually keeping the anger out of my voice “you know I’ve been called some pretty creative things and you just ain’t cutting it” 

The girl who’d tripped me scoffed. “This shirt was designer” the girl I had gotten soup on screeched. 

I looked at the blue and white striped top “sorry but I think you got ripped off” I pointed out without thinking. 

“Hey you trying to pick a fight?” a boy asked standing up behind the girl. 

“No, I'm just trying to eat lunch,” I replied cautiously, starting to stand. 

“Yeah well if I were you I’d scram” he told me. I held up my hands in a defensive gesture and reached down to collect my tray. A hand grabbed my bicep yanking me back “I said scram” 

I was tossed back into the girl who had tripped me who launched me forward back toward the guy who was stepping forward fists clenched. “A street rat like you shouldn’t be here” the girl behind me snapped.

“Yeah and a bitch like you shouldn’t be gifted vocal chords looks like nobody wins” I countered looking back at her.

“Why you little-” she threw a punch that caught me in the jaw. I started to go down but grabbed her down with me. 

People had started chanting and gathering as we wrestled on the ground pulling hair, punching, and kicking. I had the upper hand by the time I was being grabbed and pulled off her by a pair of teachers. 

“Enough!” Clive yelled, stepping between us. As the other girl got helped to her feet all I could think was that I shouldn’t have taken Don’s deal. 

________________

3rd POV.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Don murmured. The group began to disperse heading to fill out reports and gather more information connected to this new finding. Don was about to follow when he got a call. 

He glanced at the phone and was surprised to see it was the number of his daughter’s school he sighed before answering “hello” 

“Hello Mr. Eppes this is Mrs. Clive I’m your daughter Abby’s teacher. We’ve talked before” the woman on the other side answered. 

“Yes I remember” Don replied already getting a bad feeling “is she okay?” 

“For the most part” The woman sighed, sounding tired from what Don could tell and slightly annoyed? “She was involved in a fight today at school during lunch” 

“She what?” Don asked immediately, agitated. “What happened?” 

“It was an altercation incited by some other students in the cafeteria” Clive explained “witnesses and video confirmed that the other girl threw the first punch but she’s still going to be having detention for all of next week” 

Don let off a breath his initial anger cooling “do I need to come pick her up?” 

“No she’ll be finishing out the day as normal but I would suggest talking to her about it” Clive stated “she’s right here” 

Don shook his head “yeah put her on” 

“Hello Donald” Abby muttered into the phone. 

“You alright?” he asked first. 

“Yeah I’m fine. Bloody lip some bruising, girl wasn’t that tough” Abby replied and he could visualize her shrugging as she said it. 

“What happened to making friends?” Don inquired. 

“I tried. I got punched” Abby muttered bluntly “does this negate the deal?” 

Don sighed “we’ll negotiate the finer points of the deal later” he paused “how’d the other girl turn out?” 

“Worse then me” Abby muttered and he heard the slight pride in her voice. 

“I don’t want to get more calls at work about you getting in fights” Don stated “but good job defending yourself” 

“Thanks Don” Abby replied a smile in her voice. 

“Yeah kid see you later” he told her. 

“Bye” 

He hung up and pocketed the phone. “What was that about?” Don turned surprised to find Kim looking at him from where she had been gathering files. He hadn’t realized she was still in the room. 

“My daughter got in a fight at school,” he explained. 

“Daughter?” Kim questioned straightening in surprise. 

“Uh yeah” Don muttered realizing how odd this was going to be to explain. “She’s sixteen. Me and her mother were together in college. I didn’t know until her mom died and she was sent to live with me two months ago. Her names Abby” 

“Abby” Kim nodded “you’re a dad. That’s uh that’s not really something I expected to find out”

“Yeah me neither” he joked lightly there was an awkward silent moment between them and he took the moment to retreat from the room. 

______________________

Abby POV. 

“You got in a fight at school?” Alan asked the minute I walked through the front door. 

I sighed “I didn’t start it.” 

“Don called and told me” Alan explained “what happened?” 

“Girl punched me. I punched back. She got suspended. I got detention” I muttered tossing my backpack on the couch. 

“Well why’d she punch you?” Alan pressed. 

I shrugged “she likes to trip kids she doesn’t like going through the halls and call them names I called her one back and she couldn’t take it” 

Alan sighed “Abby, you have to be the better person. Turn the other cheek” 

“My innate ability for sarcasm doesn’t really lend to that” I told him. “Where’s Uncle C by the way. I want to ask if I can help on the case” 

“I think he went downstairs,” Alan explained then looked at me closer. “Is your lips bleeding?” 

I brought a hand up to my lip and touched it causing a little sting. “It's nothing serious” I assured and headed past him toward the basement steps. 

Alan was right behind me. I descended the steps and looked to see Charlie pilfering through a box. “You sure you want to be looking through that stuff?” Alan spoke up behind me. 

The younger man straightened over the box slightly, pictures in his hand “Dad, do you recognize this lady?” he asked, holding up the picture as me and Alan reached the bottom of the steps. Alan passed me and took the photo looking at it and I peered over his arm at it. The image was of my Dad and a woman with long brown hair. She was on his shoulders as he held up his arms proudly. 

“Uh, yeah, it’s Kim, isn’t it?” Alan voiced. 

“That’s Kim Hall,” Charlie agreed. 

“Who’s Kim?” I asked. 

“She and Don lived together in New Mexico” Charlie explained “and, uh, he never told me about it.” 

“Well you know your brother.” Alan sighed. 

“Why do I get the feeling my dad has a lot of ex’s” I muttered. 

Alan made a face and nodded slightly as Charlie packed up the box. “You know we’d never heard your mother’s name until you showed up” Alan explained “Don’s just a very private person” 

“I guess everyone has a right to be private” I conceded knowing there were things I hadn’t told them about me. 

“Even to family?” Charlie sighed. 

______________________

“Alright I’m back” Alan decreed, sitting down across from me and setting a bowl of popcorn on the table. “You didn’t move any of these when I wasn’t here did you?” he gestured to our chess game.

“No of course not” I replied annoyed as I grabbed a couple pieces of popcorn from the bowl. 

“Alright what’s bothering you?” Alan inquired, moving one of his rooks on the board. 

“What do you mean?” I replied sliding my bishop a couple squares. 

“Well normally a comment like mine would have initiated a snarky response” Alan explained “remember your innate ability for sarcasm? Instead I got a short response. So what is the matter?”  

“Nothing” I replied as he moved one of his pieces and I quickly countered him. 

“Yeah right does this have something to do with the fight at school?” Alan inquired. 

“No” I gave him a look “you might not want to hear this but this isn’t my first fight” 

“Yeah I didn’t want to know that but somehow it’s not really a surprise” Alan sighed “check” I quickly countered the check. “Does it have something to do with Don and this woman?” 

“I just don’t get it,” I voiced. Alan gave me a look and I sighed “It’s just, my mom and me we had this agreement that I wouldn’t lie to her and she wouldn’t keep secrets from me” I explained. “But it’s like with Don” I ended with a huffed breath. 

“Donnie doesn’t really understand that when you have kids you have to talk to them.” Alan explained “now there are somethings that kids don’t need to know about but this woman coming back into his life I do think is something you need to talk to him about” 

“He didn’t even mention her when we talked on the phone earlier” I commented. 

“Well when you talked on the phone there was a more pressing matter” Alan pointed out. I let off a breath and nodded eating some more popcorn. “Abby, I have the feeling communication will never be your and Don’s strong suit but just ask him about it alright?” 

“Alright” I muttered. 

“Oh checkmate” Alan informed. 

“Damn” I sighed “again?” 

“Sure” Alan agreed and started resetting the board. 

I looked into the bowl of popcorn before turning to my grandfather. “Do you have any peanut butter?” 

________________

3rd POV. 

“That’s the good part” Kim commented coming up to Don as they watched the woman who had been held hostage reunite with her husband. 

“Yup” Don agreed. 

“I forgot how much I missed that.” Kim voiced. 

“It’s a good thing, right?” 

“Yeah” Kim sighed “everyone’s already at Kinsella’s” she explained “Figure the Secret Service owes the FBI a few rounds if you want to come.” 

“Well, actually, I got a bit of work to do here,” Don objected. “And I have to go get Abby from my dad’s house so” 

“Okay,” Kim agreed “we are going to trip over each other again, Don.” she pointed out “if you and Terry can be partners, we can at least try to..” 

“Yeah definitely” Don agreed. 

“Okay. well” Kim sighed “first rounds on me.” She started to walk away but paused glancing back at the man “you know that kid of yours is pretty lucky to have you as her dad. I’m sure you’re great at it” 

Don nodded and smiled as the woman left passing Terry as she went. “More interagency politics?” the man’s partner commented in passing. 

_____________________

Don unlocked the apartment door and headed inside followed by Abby. “so you basically had three kids ready to fight you and you still made a snarky comment?” 

Abby shrugged “the one girl was too prissy to throw down and I wasn’t sure the jock would hit a girl” 

“Yeah well” Don muttered, getting into the fridge to get a beer. Abby paused leaning on the counter. 

“So this Kim lady” she began and Don turned to her. “You guys were serious in the past right?” 

“Yeah” Don nodded “we were” 

“Okay” Abby bit her lip which stung a little since it was still cut and shifted on her feet. “You know me and my mom had this pact where we stopped keeping things from each other. And I don’t expect you to tell me everything. I mean I get not wanting to share but if anything comes up or like you know ex-girlfriends appear can you just clue me in. Please?” 

Each word was specifically chosen, Don could tell. She’d been thinking about this. She must have found out from Charlie or Alan. Part of Don felt annoyed at the idea that his relatives had told her about this but he knew she needed to know things. Her life was dependent on his now. 

“Okay” he agreed. Abby nodded with a slight smile. “Still you might want to put a lid on that attitude of yours or next time you might deserve to get punched” Don advised lightening the mood. 

“Hey I got it from you” the girl pointed out with a smirk before heading up the stairs to her room. Don sighed but a small smile came to his face. 

The man headed over to the couch and clicked on the tv. He watched it as he heard Abby moving around upstairs and eventually settle before there was a knock on his door. “Don?” 

He turned confused at his brother’s voice “Charlie?” he got up and headed to the door “you alright?” he opened the door to see his brother holding a box in his arms.

“Hey, I found this box. I thought I’d” he shuffled into the apartment.

“What? Bring it over at 2:00 in the morning?” Don questioned. 

“Yeah” Charlie muttered looking around the apartment. 

“Well keep it down Abby’s asleep” Don advised then he got a look at the box “what did you do? You opened it?” he took it away from his brother heading for the coffee table “what is with you, man? Even when we were kids, you were always going through my stuff.”

“You always had cool stuff” Charlie defended as Don sat down to look through the box's contents. His pace slowed as memories started to drift through his mind “seems like you left a lot of good friends back there, huh?” 

“Yeah, well, family first. Right?” Don muttered looking in the envelope his search had really been pointed toward.

“Right” Charlie murmured, still hanging near the doorway. Don pulled the ring from the envelope and shifted it in his fingers. Then he remembered Charlie was there looking up, they locked eyes and then quickly looked away. Don dropped the ring back in the envelope. 

“Look, I was going to tell you. I just..” Don trailed as he tried to gather his thoughts “I don’t know. I mean, we were in two different worlds. You know how it is.” Don sighed looking at a couple photos now “and mom got sick and… I don’t know.” 

“I understand” Charlie murmured. 

“Yeah?” Don looked for confirmation. 

“Yeah.” Charlie nodded “I agree we’re from, uh from two different worlds” 

“Well not so much lately” Don encouraged when he saw his father’s face fall 

“Yeah” a small smile appeared on Charlie’s face to match his brother’s. 

“See me all the time now.” Don pointed out. 

Charlie nodded “I’ve learned a lot from you, actually” he confessed. 

“Thanks” Don smiled. 

“Okay,” Charlie shifted uncomfortably on his feet. 

“You want to watch the rest of the movie” Don suggested pointing to the tv. 

“Okay sure” Charlie agreed, easily coming to sit in the chair next to the couch. 

“It’s a great flick” Don explained moving the box off the coffee table “it’s about baseball” 

“The most statistically driven sport in the world” Charlie commented. 

“You want a beer?” Don offered. 

“No thanks” Charlie objected politely, eyes on the screen. 

“Chip?” 

“I’m okay” 

Abby smiled from her place hidden on the steps. She could tell from the beginning that her uncle and father were from different worlds and she wasn’t sure which she understood more. Still she was glad they could find their common ground, maybe it held hope for a future where her own world made a bit more sense.

Chapter 8 -> 

[codyfernmorelikedaddyfern]

Medicine - Jim x fem!reader // Part One

I’m doing this guys.

Multi part fanfiction on Jim losely inspired by multiple songs on my playlist. The whole thing is following Medicine by The 1975 but each chapters will have a different theme within it besides this one because it’s mainly exposition.

Description: In a desperate attempt to “make things work” in a marriage already shattered a decade ago, (Y/N)’s parents move in Palos Verde where she meets Medina, a newfound hermit like her.

Warnings: mention of dysfunctional/toxic relationships, alcohol and drug abuse.

Word counts: 1.6k+

She hated being the new kid in town. She hated the attention it brought to her as she wandered the confusing halls of her new school. She hated the eyes glued to her as she sat alone at her table at lunch. She hated having to introduce herself over and over again to her classmates. She hated the spotlight and the stares.

Her gentle footsteps carried her to the lockers, looking down at the 93 scribbled on her palm, scanning the metal doors and looking for the number she had been assigned to in the ocean of students pacing up and down the hall.

 “Hey, you’re (Y/N), the new girl, right, a gentle voice spoke behind your as you snapped out of your search.

- Oh, yeah, hi! She turned to the girl, probably around her age, standing next to her. We have classes together, don’t we?

- I think so, yes, I’m Medina.”

 With a friendly handshake and her best smile, the blonde girl helped (Y/N) locate her locker and settle. The next couple of classes where spent in hushed whispers and sassy comments about diverse people walking past them or throwing glances in their direction.

 The outcast had found another hermit with who she could moan about others with and it made their afternoon slightly more tolerable.

As the bell rang the end of the day, the two young women took their own paths home, Medina jumping on her bicycle and riding down the road aside a tall brunette. She had never mentioned a boyfriend but she didn’t know the blonde to take any sense of betrayal in her blood.

 Kicking up a stone or two on her way to the house she had barely got the chance to settle in, she was lost in her thoughts, trying to remember the information that had been unfurled in front of her throughout the day. The voice of her father welcomed her in the house. All she could see was the blinking colours spewing out of the TV and the back of the elderly man’s head on the couch as she climbed up the flight of stairs carrying her to her bedroom.

The door gently swayed closed as she sat at the brand new corner desk begging to be used. Unpacking her bag’s content on the desk, (Y/N) quickly worked on her tasks for the night after putting her favourite playlist on for motivation.

 Her gentle features bobbed to the beat of the music while she could hear the ocean’s harsh waves crashing on the rocks a hundred feet away from her window.

Her mother must have opened it during the day during her daily compulsive cleaning sessions. What a strange woman she was, the young one thought. After her father had caught his spouse in bed with another man, she had spun their world around and condemned herself to a life of a full time housewife, losing her mind in cleaning products and a pair of rubber cloves, the chemicals becoming some twisted medicine to her unfaithfulness.

 What a strange man her father was, accepting the multitude of apologies her mother webbed over the years. She had given up her work to tie herself to his will. As a child, her parents were the only idea of love she could base herself on which is mostly the reason of her own relationships failing. Her shifted idea of what a man and woman should act as when together was shattered when the time for her to have her first boyfriend came.

 And before she could remember the night said boyfriend broke her poor little heart, the creaking of her door pulled her out of her daydreaming, her mother standing in the frame. Her voice, raspy from decades of smoking, invited her to join them for dinner.

That’s one thing she hated too. The questioning. Yes, her day had been fine. Yes, she was making friend. Yes, her homework were finished. No, she hadn’t developed a crush on the neighbour yet. Her eyes rolled so far she fear it might disappear at the back of her skull.

 “We have been invited to a little gathering after dinner, would you care to join, the voice of her father pushed the clouded thoughts of her day out of the way.

- Sure, where is it?

- Down a few blocks, there will be a bonfire and you could bring your doodling stuff, the mother carried on.

- Yeah okay, I guess I could walk home if the adult talk become too boring, the teenager concluded as she pushed her last broccoli in her mouth, chewing on it for longer that she should.

- Great, we’ll be heading there when you are ready, sweetie”.

 The urge to roll her eyes once more was intense but she held back. The family dynamic had been broken all those years ago when the cat had gone out of the bag about her poor mother. Or poor father? (Y/N) didn’t know which one to pity the most. Their empty drive to “make it work” had smothered their daughter.

She found a way out in art. She would try her hands at any mediums. Sculpting was her favourite and she lavished herself in bringing bodies and forms to life from her nimble fingers, calloused and blistered by the hot clay. But what she was the best at was with a pencil.

 Many a sketchbook had been filled with grotesque cartoons and semi realistic portraits and stills. The comfort that sketching a frame of her vision on the blank pages somewhat made up for the lack of a mother or father figure, the two of them too busy trying to work on each other.

After shoving the dirty cutlery and plates in the dish washer, she jumped up the stairs and gathered her supplies before kicking her shoes on and following her parents to the car. There was no need for conversation as the vehicle sped down the empty streets and there was also no need for a car ride altogether.

 The smell of burning wood hit (Y/N)’s nose, offering a pleasant change from the brine and seaweed. Stepping out of the car, an unknown voice welcomed you to join the group of mingling adults at the back. A series of new introduction took place as her father shook hands with multiple strangers.

“You must be (Y/N), ‘the new girl’ Medina talked about. I’m Phil” his large hand reached forward for hers, which she shook while noticing that glint in his eyes.

The same sad glint she had seen in her father’s eyes. With the same palm, he quickly pointed to the large bonfire 200 ft forward on the beach. “She’s over there if you look for her” he mentioned causing her to whisper a quick thank you and darting towards the large dancing flames surrounded by a handful of teenagers.

 Once the sand pooled too much in her shoes and she cursed herself for wearing them, she quickly pulled them out, gingerly walking towards the only figure she recognised. Medina’s 6th sense must have been tingling because she turned around to the hesitant silhouette approaching, inviting her to sit by her side.

 “I didn’t think my dad meant it when he said you were invited tonight” the blonde suddenly blushed as the spot next to her got filled with her new acquaintance. Enquiring about the content of her Y/N, sparked a lengthy conversation about art and drawings, learning that the other outcast’s outlet was to surf with her sibling.

As if mentioning her twin was a magical incantation, his hazy body walked into view. The boy she had mistakenly assumed was the boyfriend your new friend was only his brother. He slumped next to her, his words slurred and somewhat jumbled while carrying the lingering smell of weed and booze.

 “Y-You’re not going to introduce me, he nearly choked, his head slumping forward in a playful wave.

- That’s (Y/N), she’s new here, she looked at her brother then turned to her friend, that’s my brother Jim, he’s… not new here.

- Very nice to meet you, his hand reached forward, sawing wildly.”

 Hesitantly shaking his hand, (Y/N) shared a somewhat worried look with Medina. His broad shoulders fell backwards in the sand while he gazed at the stars but her eyes were set on the display of the waves.

The blonde excused herself for a second, muttering she needed the bathroom, before her figure disappeared up the sandy slope to the house. The awkward tension thickened as the young woman felt Jim’s gaze read her features.

 She was not the conventional type of pretty. But damn did she look gorgeous as the amber lights of the flames licked her skin somehow highlighting her flaw in an array of beauty. It was probably the alcohol clouding his mind or most likely the drugs fogging his eyes. Fishing out her notepad, she started to stain the pages of her notebook with the beauty of the ocean she was witnessing as the moon was coasting on top of the waves.

The gentle footfalls of Medina brushed against her ear while (Y/N) consumed the night, her nose stuffed in her pencils and charcoals, the conversation between the twins losing itself in the blur of her focused gaze darting between the water and the her paper.

 How could he focus on the words leaving his lips when this otherworldly apparition was so deeply enthralled in her mind? Her fingers greyed and stained by the lead she was smearing on the pages. And he noticed it. That broken glimmer in her eyes. Because she was broken too, maybe more than he was himself but in her own beautiful way. And maybe he could fix her. For a split second where her eyes fell deep within his, the haze of his inebriated mind, he sobered up.

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