#been hesitantly playing around a little bit with text in my art lately!!!

[corpsoir]

am i too late for requests? if not then how about a bruno but in the outfit they designed for him for the "Harada Tadashi x JoJo" collaboration? in general those outfits are underappreciated by fandom despite being so cool but i really wish to see bruno one.

i read this ask and immediately had to go all out with it!! :] youre right the outfits are really cool and i dont know if i've seen much art with it!!

[thefanficmonster]

Much Cooler

Corpse Husband & Emma Langevin 

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: There’s always a certain level of uncertainty when meeting someone you’ve only known online. There’s that sense of insecurity that your relationship with them will never be the same or - even worse - that their view of you might change for the worse. But there’s nothing more thrilling than seeing the person you’ve been talking to constantly for the past however long standing across from you. 

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request and I’m so terribly sorry for how late it’s coming out but I hope the fic makes it worth the wait! Lots of love, Vy ❤

“CORPSE! Wake up you famous dumbass!“ is the first thing the poor man heard over the phone at 9 AM on this fine Saturday morning.

It’s more than enough to make him contemplate why he even decided to pick it up in the first place considering he wouldn’t have been very able to participate in the conversation due to his sleepiness. He also, of course, made the mistake of not checking the caller ID which apparently wasn’t necessary considering how recognizable that voice and accent are.

���It’s 9 AM, Emma.“ He states as a tired parent would to a child, “I’m concerned as to why you’re up so early. More so as to why you’re calling me of all people.“

He can practically hear her roll her eyes but he still smirks to himself, knowing she can’t contradict him or argue since he’s completely right with his claims. “Whatever. Remind me to never call you to congratulate you on a milestone again.“

Now that pokes at his attention with a stick. Lately, said attention has proven to be a hibernating bear, leaving Corpse with a lack of interest or motivation for anything but damn if that sentence wasn’t enough to roll him out of bed and hop on PC. “What? What milestone? Subscribers?“

“Nope! You got two million likes on ‘E-girls are ruining my life’! I can’t believe I have to tell you this! Didn’t you notice the numbers climbing?!“ Emma, as annoyed and sarcastic as she’s trying to sound, she’s obviously overjoyed on his behalf and is super proud of him and of the project she luckily agreed to take a small part in.

As his PC boots up, Corpse can’t help but roll his eyes at Emma’s comment, “Well unlike you I have better things to do than refresh a page over and over aga-” His sentence is quickly cut off when he sees the number of likes under the song for himself.

Knowing that he’d find it there didn’t change the feeling of seeing it for the first time at all. It’s so surreal and so hard for his mind to comprehend. Seeing as how little he thinks of himself, his content and his art, this is like his success coming to slap him across the face as if to punctuate to him how wrong that mindset is.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt if you offered to take me out for at least a coffee to celebrate, bro.“ Emma comments sarcastically, joking only halfway from what he can sense.

He smirks, “Trying to even the playing field, I see.” He replies, referring to the fact that he’s still a faceless mystery to her while her face is literally the cover art for one of his songs.

She laughs but is quick to dismiss his claim, “Nah, I might be a curious and nosey little shit on other occasions, but other people’s privacy is not something I dig my nose into. However, if I were to even the playing field between us it wouldn’t be appearance-wise. More personality-wise. For my sake and yours I choose to believe you are way cooler in person than you are through messages or on a call.”

This withdraws a genuine fit of laughter from Corpse who throws his head back, a few strands of hair moving aside to reveal his shiny eyes, “Well then, instead of giving me the benefit of the doubt, how about we settle it once and for all? Tomorrow? I’ll text you the location.”

Emma’s eyebrows shoot upwards as soon as she comprehends his words and the tone that leaves no room for her to assume he’s joking, “Wait what? How come you’re agreeing to this? And so easily? Nah, this a trap if I’ve ever seen it.”

Corpse laughs yet again, “No trap, Em. I just can’t have you doubting my coolness.”

                                                             *  *  *

The main reason as to why Corpse requested for this meeting to be today is because he feared that if he had more than twenty four hours to dwell on it he’d chicken out. Little did he know it was the same for Emma. Their friendship has only ever existed with the bridge of social media connecting them and they both can’t help but fear the other might not like who they are IRL. They fear they unintentionally become a different person or change things about themselves subconsciously when communicating with people online. Bottom line, they’re scared of letting the other person down with who they really are, unaware that their personalities are most likely the exact same because, as the people who know them can confirm, neither Corpse nor Emma are the type to put on a show in order to be liked. They would rather have no friends because of who they are than have friends and fans of their persona instead of the real them.

And so, while slightly afraid and anxious about this meeting, both of them see it as a relief test to see if the friendship is in fact as real as it’s seemed these past months.

Corpse was the one to choose the location of their meet-up, a location Emma didn’t even think twice about agreeing on, and ever since, they’ve both been counting the hours until their scheduled meeting time.  It’s not about impressing each other, at least that’s what they’re both telling themselves, but rather proving to the other that they’re worthy of their friendship. They might throw snarky and sarcastic comments at one another that others would give a side-eye glance to and question if their friendship is real, but they know the dynamic best and they sure as hell don’t wanna lose it or each other.

Best friends are the ones who roast each other after all - you can’t tell me I’m wrong.

The nervous Corpse fidgets with the insides of his hoodie pockets as he waits outside the café, having arrived ten minutes early because he couldn’t stand being alone with his thoughts in his apartment, judging every fragment of himself twice as harshly as usual. Emma, on the other hand, could barely bring herself to leave her home. She kept retouching her appearance, despite knowing Corpse wouldn’t judge her even if she showed up in pjs. To be fair she contemplated doing just that several times because her hair pissed her off enough to get her discouraged on her outfit altogether but she did eventually talk herself into pulling it together. She already knew she’d be at least five minutes late, but once again, she knew Corpse wouldn’t care.

He’d wait, cause that’s the kind of friend he was. Cause that’s the kind of friend she was for him too.

And boy did it take her less than a second to recognize him. She wasn’t even out of the car when she saw him and knew it was exactly who she was looking for. He too, as if with a sixth sense that registered her presence, shoots his head up from his phone to look up at her, their gazes meeting. There’s a brief moment of close-to-shocked silence, their eyes a bit widened as their brains comprehend that they’re within arm’s reach of one another.

That’s when Emma’s the first to break the bubble of awe as a wide grin spreads across her face and she runs to Corpse, wrapping him in a hug before he’s even realized the distance between the two’s been closed.

“Hey.“ She mumbles, her face hidden in his hoodie due to the height difference.

“H-hey.“ He replies, hesitantly wrapping his arms around her too.

“I was right.“ She says once she pulls away, “You are much cooler face-to-face.“ She pauses for a second, narrowing her eyes, “You’d be even cooler if you bought me coffee though.“

Earning a laugh from him, she’s guided into the café by the arm Corpse wraps around her shoulders, telling her he’s get her a milkshake cause he doesn’t want to see her high on caffeine. Needless to say, they both are, indeed, much cooler to one another IRL.

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[skamandallthat]

Less Than Five Minutes (Part 6/?)

You guyssss... you guys you guys you guys. Thank you so much for everything. Hope you enjoy <3

As always, this is also up on Ao3 so head on over if you'd rather consume this there!

--

Matteo can't focus all day. No matter how hard he tries.

David.

I have something I want to show you, replayed in his mind. David’s shaky voice. The sound of his swallowing. The silence.

David.

He barely moves from his bed, only getting up to grab an apple around three. He can hardly eat, hardly think. The night before runs through over and over in his head.

Makes this easier.

Sure does. Matteo can't help but spin. He contemplates getting a beer out of the fridge. No.

It may be easier like that but he can't fall down that hole again.

So he just sits. He plays his game for a while, checks his phone. Hans barges in at one point with some playful description of something but Matteo doesn't hear him. All he hears is ringing.

And then a buzz.

To: Matteo

From: David

I'll be over in 30.

Matteo panics, shooting out of bed. He runs over to his mirror and groans. Why didn't he shower? Why did he wait around all day? The ringing comes back. Make do, he tells himself.

He grabs one of David’s beanies that he had left there recently and puts it on. Grabs a hoodie to cover up his wrinkled shirt. He rubs his hands over his face, hands landing on either side and pulling down. He looks just about as horrible as he feels.

Since when did he care what he looked like?

Since David added stakes. Since David reminded him of what he'd been trying to hard to forget. Since he was confronted with his worst fear:

David could never see him that way.

--

The apartment buzzer rings. Matteo walks over. Answers.

“You coming?” David yells through the intercom.

“Ya.” Matteo replies.

--

They bike and they bike and they bike. Matteo just follows. He has no idea where they're headed, nor does he want to know. The speculating about where they're going keeps him from speculating about what David wants to show him.

The strenuous biking isn't helping the fact that Matteo can't breathe today anyway.

Can't breathe lately.

May never breathe again.

And then suddenly David’s slowing.

They aren't… anywhere. They're outside the city, on the outskirts of some small forest Matteo didn't even know existed.

But of course David did.

David knows everything.

Except the thing Matteo wants him to know most.

He hops off his bike.

“Where are we?” Matteo asks.

David doesn't say anything. Just purses his lips and nods behind him, signaling Matteo to follow him. His eyes are bright. He looks both sure and unsure. Matteo follows.

--

They walk for what feels like hours. Stealing glances. Shoulders grazing. David has his hands in his pockets for the most part, only removing them every once and a while to take out his phone and snap a picture of some plant. A cool rock. Animal’s footprints.

Matteo toes at the ground as he waits.

It's awkward.

Things are rarely awkward between them. Tense? Sure. But awkward… that's just something that's never happened. He's not sure what to do with it.

David draws him out of his head.

“Over here.”

Matteo finally looks up. He'd been staring at the ground the whole walk. The view in front of him is beautiful. Stunning. Trees upon trees lit up by the stars. Dreamy. Wonderful.

Nothing in comparison though, to how David looks right now. The chilled night air has given his cheeks a red tint. His hair is sweaty, messy. He looks like a dream.

Matteo wishes this was a dream.

It's both too close to and too far away from everything he wants.

David turns to him with a gentle smile. “Come sit.”

There's a large rock to the right of them, the trees around it somehow parting just perfectly so that it's lit by the moon. It feels like a spotlight. He's drawn.

They make their way over and sit atop it. No one says anything for a bit.

Suddenly David draws in a sharp breath. He looks down just slightly. His eyes close, and he takes a breath. It looks like a preparation. For what? Matteo can't get his lungs to do their job.

David turns towards his backpack. He unzips the big pocket and pulls out his journal.

Matteo had seen some of David’s journal.

The first time they hung out, David had been rifling through his things and Matteo stopped as he saw a wrinkly leather journal peak out.

“What’s that?” Matteo had asked.

“Uh…” David looked at him, searching. He smiled hesitantly and then said, “My journal.” He looked down. “My art.”

“Show me.”

David had looked at him with wonder. He had obliged.

Matteo was absolutely floored.

David was so talented that it made his heart hurt. The drawings screamed help me and love me and want me and it was then that Matteo knew that's all he wanted to do.

Help David. Love David. Want David.

He sure had mastered the last one.

From then on David would show him a drawing here or there. A poem he wrote. A snippet from a script for one of his movie ideas.

The amazement never wore off. Each time Matteo saw a new creation of David's he was just as astounded at the first time.

David never stopped being shy about it. Matteo never stopped trying to give him reasons not to be.

But now.

Now David looked terrified. His hands shook as he grabbed the journal out of his bag and held it in his hands, turning it over and over again. He sighed.

“I made something a while ago…” He started. David looked up, at the sky, shaking his head. Matteo stared, noticed the sheen of tears lining his eyes. Why? Why is he so scared? He should never be scared with me! He should know that by now. I want him to know that.

“Hey.” Matteo said. David turned his head to look at him, but closed his eyes. “You're safe here, please know that.”

David’s shoulders fell. He opened his eyes. Matteo wanted nothing more than to add “I love you” at the end. But he couldn't. Not now.

...Not ever?

“I know.” David said. It was hardly audible, but there. He took another breath. His hand moved across the front of the journal, rubbing. As if he was marking it as his own, one last time. Matteo just waited.

David opened the book. Turned the pages to somewhere in the middle. Matteo didn't look down. He wouldn't look down until David told him to. Told him it was time.

Suddenly the journal was being handed to him. Matteo grabbed hold of it and locked eyes with David in question, who nodded.

Matteo looked down. His heart stopped.

It was so intricate.

A two page collage of drawings.

Drawings of him and David, of every milestone they'd had so far.

Matteo couldn't breathe. They were all the same moments that Matteo went back to in his mind whenever he needed a reprieve.

The first time they met.

The first time they talked.

The first time they hung out.

The first time David stayed over.

The first time David ran away.

The first time Matteo told anyone he was gay. When he told David.

The first time they laughed until they cried.

The day David came out to Matteo as trans.

The 'you’re my favorite thing right now' day.

Every one. Every single moment Matteo had bookmarked, David had as well. Tears started to well up in his eyes as he moved to the text at the bottom.

'I want to be around you. All the time. I'm sorry. You're my favorite thing too. But that's all I can give you right now.'

Matteo’s thumb passed over the text again and again. He read it over and over. He felt David's eyes watch him, take it all in.

His heart exploded into a thousand fragments, aching, burning. Through his chest into his limbs. His face went numb.

But that's all that I can give you right now.

He turned his head to David, who looked so...bare. So there and with him and honest and hurting that Matteo couldn't hold it in anymore. He closed his eyes and the tears poured out.

David moved his body towards him, gently, softly, resting his forehead against Matteo’s. Matteo took in a deep breath and opened his eyes.

“Is that okay?” David asked. Whispered.

Is that okay? Matteo had waited for this for what felt like forever.

To be shown the real David.

The honest one.

The David he knew but had little proof of.

...It was more than he ever expected from him.

All he ever wanted.

“Yes.” Matteo replied quietly, nodding. “For right now.”

David leaned back and rested his hands on either side of Matteo’s face. His thumbs swept across Matteo’s cheeks, wiping away the tears. He took a deep breath. His shoulders softened. He looked lighter than Matteo had ever seen him.

“Okay.” David whispered back.

And Matteo thought it would be. For the first time in a while he thought things might be okay. He had some hope, something to really hold on to. Not passing. David couldn't take this one back.

But what now?

What do you do when you're given a for now. A for now that churns you from the inside out?

What do you when you're offered everything you ever wanted, but it's offered as a 'later’.

A maybe. Not concrete.

Enough, but just barely.

Less than five minutes. In less than five minutes he'd received exactly what he had wanted... but without a promise.

David was honest, finally.

Matteo knew him, finally.

But what now?

Is it smart to hold onto something when you've been warned not to? Been warned it might not stick around?

What now?

[doctortreklock]

Drawing with the Dead - September 25, 2019

Part of my Resolution19. Read it on AO3.

Prompt: "Do you believe in ghosts?" (x)

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Words: 1610

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

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

Clint's head jerked up from where he had been bent over his sketchpad. He hastily pulled the headphones off his ears and looked to his left to see a man sitting on the short wall next to him watching him sketch. "Uh, I'm sorry?" he tried.

The man smiled. It was a nice smile, Clint noted absently. "I was asking if you believe in ghosts," he repeated.

"Not so much," Clint told him with a easy grin. "I have a hard enough time believing in what's in front of me sometimes."

The man hummed and looked like he was giving Clint's off-the-cuff answer serious thought. 

"What about you?" Clint asked quickly. It didn't seem like the man was going to be leaving soon, and if Clint were being honest, he didn't mind the company. It seemed like this end of campus got pretty dead after nine o'clock and he could use the break from sketching.

"I've found that at a certain point, believing becomes unavoidable," the man told him slowly, as if picking his words carefully.

Clint scoffed playfully and adjusted the shading on his rendition of the abstract sculpture in the middle of the art building's atrium. "Seen a lot of ghosts, then?" he asked, sliding his gaze back over to the man.

He couldn't really help it. The man sitting by him was plain, almost the dictionary definition of "unassuming," but there was something about him that Clint liked. Maybe it was the confident, quiet way he held himself, his kind blue eyes, or the well-fitted - if slightly old-fashioned - suit he was wearing. Or maybe it was just the way his lightly lined face and receding hairline played into Clint's predilection for handsome older men.

The smile that played around the man's lips twisted wryly. "Something like that, yes," he said.

"So," Clint drawled, waggling his eyebrows outrageously. "Come here often?" If he asked as ridiculously as possible, he could brush it off as a joke if need be.

From the smirk that tugged at the corners of the man's mouth, Clint didn't think he'd have to downplay the question. "Would you believe me," he asked, "if I told you I didn't get out much and that this was the only place I'd been in a very long time?"

For a moment, Clint wasn't sure if he was serious or not, but the upturned corner of the man's mouth was enough to convince him that it had just been very, very dry humor.

Clint snorted and the other man seemed pleased that he had recognized it as a joke.

"I'm Clint," Clint said, twisting in his seat so he could offer the man his right hand and a dazzling smile. "Clint Barton. Do you want to get a drink with me?" What the hell, might as well, right?

"Phil Coulson," the man said politely, making no move to take Clint's hand. "And I'm afraid I can't, as much as I would like to. Unfortunately, incorporeality does have its drawbacks." He sounded honest-to-god regretful about it.

Well that had stung a bit more than anticipated. Clint drew back quickly and used his outstretched hand to rub the back of his neck. "Ouch," he half-joked. "That's a new one." He glanced over at the sculpture in the center of the atrium again and tried to focus on the lines he'd been sketching.

"Excuse me?" The man - Phil - sounded baffled, but Clint didn't look over to see if his expression matched his tone.

"It's just that usually when a guy doesn't want to go out with me, he just says no." The curve at the top was actually a little rounder than he'd drawn in his sketchbook, Clint noted absently. "He doesn't pretend he's a ghost."

Phil didn't say anything for a moment, so Clint brought his pencil back up with his left hand to gently correct the shape. He'd barely started, though, when a movement caught the corner of his eye. Phil had leaned in and placed one hand gently on Clint's elbow.

Normally, that wouldn't be cause for alarm. However, normally, Clint would have sensed someone leaning into his personal space. And normally, he'd be able to feel where Phil's hand rested on his arm.

Clint stared at the place where his eyes were telling him Phil Coulson was touching him and his arm was telling him Phil damn well was not. His lifted his right hand hesitantly and placed it over Phil's fingers. If Phil were a tangible, physical person, Clint would be clutching at his hand like an Austen heroine. As it was, his fingers hovered over space his eyes were insisting shouldn't be empty before he laid his fingers flat on his own arm.

Immediately, a cold tingle rushed through his hand, instantly putting it to sleep, pins and needles and all.

Clint swore and pulled his hand back abruptly. Phil flinched away as well. Clint shook his hand a few times and swore again as the pins and needles played havoc with his pain perception. "Sorry," he managed, flexing his hand twice to try and dispel the sharp tingling.

"No need to apologize," Phil said. "It's hardly the first time."

He sounded sad. Clint looked over at him to find Phil inspecting his own hand. There was a slump to his shoulders that he could have sworn hadn't been there a few minutes earlier.

"Hey," Clint said softly, his own fading pain forgotten. If Phil had been physical, Clint would have bumped shoulders with him. (Then again, if Phil had been physical, Clint wouldn't have needed to.) "You okay?"

Phil straightened up. "Of course." He straightened his cuffs, carefully not looking in Clint's direction.

Clint had just opened his mouth to say something reassuring (what, he had no idea), when his phone buzzed. Since there were only a few people who might have been texting him this late at night, he pulled his phone out and glanced at it. It was an SOS from Nat.

Before he could have a heart attack (and, boy, wasn't that joke less funny with apparently an honest-to-god ghost sitting right next to him), a second text came through. Apparently she and Bucky had just entered one of the "off" phases of their on-and-off relationship and his presence was required.

Clint sighed and muttered, "Great timing there, Nat." He shot her a quick acknowledgement and looked back over at Phil, who seemed to be attempting to memorize the abstract sculpture if the intensity of his gaze was any indication. His shoulders were stiff.

"Sorry," Clint apologized, closing his notebook and starting to put his drawing supplies back in his backpack. "My best friend just broke up with her boyfriend again and could use some help practicing her knife throwing."

Now Phil just looked concerned. "Are you sure that's the safest..." He trailed off.

Clint didn't notice; he was half-bent-over, trying to squeeze the sketchpad into his backpack. "Nah, it's fine. I was in the circus and I think she was a Russian assassin in a previous life, so we've got it covered." He straightened up and stood, swinging his bag onto his shoulder. "Anyway, I should really be heading out." He hesitated. "Will I see you again?"

Phil was staring at the backpack slug over one shoulder. "You're a student?" he asked faintly.

"Uh, yeah," Clint frowned. "Just started a couple weeks ago." Phil's expression was becoming increasingly dismayed. Clint hitched his bag higher and tried not to let it get to him.

"I usually only talk to the professors," Phil explained. "I thought you were older. An artist-in-residence at the very least." He looked distressed.

Clint had the sinking feeling that now Phil wouldn't want to get a drink with him even if he were physically capable of it. "It's cool," he lied. "I know I'm a bit older than the typical freshman. It was the circus," he added, desperate to explain. "They weren't big on traditional schooling and I had to take some extra time to get caught up." Clint focused on the floor of the atrium and hoped his face wasn't as warm as it felt. Did he really try to reassure the handsome ghost haunting the art building that he wasn't too young to hang out with because he'd been too stupid to get into college at 18?

"Clint."

Clint glanced up again and Phil looked uncomfortable. Before he could say anything, the phone in his hand buzzed again.

"I've got to go," Clint said. "Apparently Nat needs Rocky Road to go with her target practice." He tried to give Phil a smile, but he was pretty sure it came out sad and wonky. "Anyway," he added unnecessarily.

Phil didn't say anything, so Clint took that as his cue to go.

"Clint," Phil said again.

Clint turned back to see him standing next to the low wall where the pair had been sitting. He looked decisive. "Yeah?"

"I can't get a drink with you," the ghost of Phil Coulson told him. "But I would enjoy talking to you again, if that's something you would like." He held Clint's gaze steadily, but Clint could have sworn he saw a hint of a blush on the top of his cheeks.

Clint gave Phil another smile, this one wider and more sincere. "I'd like that."

They looked at each other across the atrium for a moment before Clint threw a hand in the air in a jaunty wave and turned to go. "See you around, Phil," he called.

He didn't look back, but Clint could have sworn he heard an affectionate sigh behind him.

[bilbos]

Wherefore Art Thou? || Juuse Saros

requested: yes || no

word count: 1.4k

warnings: none

author’s note: this is specifically geared towards a male reader <3

~ ~ ~

You meet Juuse because of one of your university friends. Louise had invited you earlier this week to a small neighborhood barbeque. At first, you were a little hesitant, but she told you that everyone invites friends and it’s just a chance to relax before finals get started. Being a broke university student, you finally decided that the free food would be worth the awkward socializing.

When you arrive at Louise’s place, you see that the barbeque is already in full swing down the street. You grab the bowl of macaroni salad that you made last night and walk up to Louise’s house. As you knock on the door, Jane, Louise’s mom, opens the door.

“Oh, I’m so glad that you could make it!” Jane exclaims. “I know Louise is excited to have a good friend here this year.”

“Yeah, this should be a fun way to relax,” you reply politely. “Can I set this down or is Louise almost ready?”

“She’ll be down in just a moment,” Jane says.

Right on cue, Louise comes running down the stairs and starts pulling on some shoes. “Sorry I’m late, I’ll be out in just a sec!”

“No rush,” you reply. “Well, it was good to see you Jane. I’m sure I’ll see you before heading out tonight.”

“Sounds good and have fun!” Jane says.

You and Louise then start walking down the block. She can tell that you’re starting to get a little nervous, so she starts chattering about the finals she has coming up. By the time the two of you get to the park, you’ve calmed down a little bit.

“Louise! I’m happy you could make it!” someone exclaims.

That someone is a young man that’s probably around your age and is extremely attractive.  You clam up even more, just freezing in your spot. He looks over in your direction and eyes you.

“Is this your boyfriend?” he asks.

“Oh god no, he’s just my friend,” Louise says. “We go to university together, actually.”

“Sorry about that,” he replies. “My name is Juuse.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say. “I would shake your hand, but I’m currently holding food, so, um, yeah.”

Louise stifles a laugh. “Here, I’ll show you where to put it. We’ll be back in a minute, Juuse.”

She drags you off to one of the picnic tables that has food on it. After you set down the food, Louise gives you a look. Rather, the look, the one where you know what’s going to happen next.

“Yes, I think he’s cute,” you sigh.

Louise gives you a smirk. “Well, I’ll just have to make sure that you have his number by the end of the night.”

“Good luck with that one,” you scoff. “When was the last time that worked?”

“It’ll work this time because I actually know him well enough this time,” Louise explains. “But if all else fails, I’ll just give it to you.”

“Why can’t you just do that now?” you ask.

“Because that’s no fun,” she answers. “Now, let’s go.”

~ ~ ~

You end up getting Juuse’s phone number by the time you and Louise leave the party. He says it’s to get the recipe for the macaroni salad, but you’ll take this as a blessing in disguise. Louise is obviously pleased that she doesn’t have to intervene in any way and keeps smirking at you on the walk home.

“Oh, shut up,” you laugh when Louise looks at you again.

“Look, I’m just happy for you,” she replies.

“Nothing’s even happened yet,” you say.

“Ah, nothing has happened yet,” she says. “I’ll help you out if you need it.”

You just laugh and shake your head. There was no doubt about that statement. Ever since you came out to Louise, she’s been doing her best to support your journey and exploration of it all. She was pretty pushy at first, but backed down once you told her to chill.

“I have no doubt about it, Louise,” you say, snickering.

She playfully shoves you as the two of you walk into her house.

~ ~ ~

You and Juuse hit it off relatively well. Conversation was a bit awkward at first, but you kept trying, especially at Louise’s insistence. After talking for a couple of months, you start noticing that Juuse’s replies are a bit more sporadic than they normally are. You want to ask why, but you also don’t want to be pushy in case something personal is going on. Finally, by the fourth day, you cave and decide to message him.

Are you doing okay? you text him.

Yeah, of course :) he replies

You’re just texting at weird times…

Oh, it’s because of hockey!!!

Uh…I thought that didn’t start until October???

….I’m a hockey player…

           um?????

Juuse ends up calling you right after that.

“Did you not know?” he asks.

“No, of course I didn’t know!” you exclaim. “Like I vaguely know that hockey is a thing because Louise talks about it, but I don’t know anything else about it.”

“Oh, well, I guess that makes sense,” he says softly. “Well, uh, now you know. I’m a goalie for the Preds.”

“That’s good to know,” you whisper weakly. “Glad we cleared that up.”

Juuse laughs and it sounds wonderful. The two of you end up talking for over an hour on the phone, with Juuse mostly talking about what he does for a living. Talking to him has only made your crush on him grow. He’s a sweetheart and is so understanding of all of your questions.

When you get off the phone, you flop back on your bed and sigh. You can’t believe that you didn’t know that he was a hockey player. Somehow, that makes him even hotter, despite you not knowing anything about the sport.

“Oh, what did I get myself into?” you groan.

~ ~ ~

You and Juuse keep talking on an almost daily basis. You understand that there are some days where he won’t be able to message you, but you get it. Now that the new semester has started, there’s plenty of homework to keep you busy. You’re now sitting at your desk when you hear a rock hit the door to your balcony. Looking over at it in confusion, you see another rock hit the glass. Confused, you walk over and open the door.

On the ground is Juuse. When he sees that you’ve come out of your room, he brightens up and stands up straight.

“Oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo,” he shouts.

“Juuse, what are you doing?!” you exclaim. “I’m going to come get you.”

You notice that he’s about to start going again, so you rush downstairs and let him in. When he sees you, he rushes over to you and hugs you. You awkwardly hug him back, totally unsure of what’s going on right now.

“Um, what were you doing, Juuse?” you ask hesitantly.

“Well, uh, it’s a long story,” he replies, awkwardly.

You roll your eyes and drag him up to your room. Juuse sits down on your bed and you decide to sit next to him. He starts awkwardly playing with his hands before he starts his story.

“So I remember that you mentioned something about this romcom that you were watching a couple weeks ago,” he says. “One of the characters had started flirting with someone on their balcony by reciting Romeo and Juliet at them.”

“Uh huh,” you reply, still very confused. “And what does this have to do with us?”

“Well, I liked the idea and I also like you a lot so I just decided to go for it,” he explains.

“Oh,” you say, freezing.

Juuse sits there awkwardly, just staring at you. It takes you a second to recover, but you take his hand when you finally collect yourself. He smiles hesitantly at you.

“I, uh, like you too,” you whisper. “I also don’t think that line means what you think it does.”

“English is weird,” he comments.

You laugh. “That it is.”

~ ~ ~

It’s now time for the neighborhood barbeque again. This time, though, you’re walking up to it hand in hand with Juuse. Thankfully, everyone there has been keeping your relationship fairly quiet. It’s nice to be affectionate in public somewhere without a sense of dread.

The past months have been great with Juuse. It’s been rough trying to figure out how to fit your lives together, but it’s worth all of the struggles. Both of you work so well together and you could have never quite imagined being with someone quite like him. You can’t wait to see what adventures the two of you have.

[questionofdarkness]

hi there! could I have a matchup please? I’m a 5’6, female, pisces with wavy blonde hair and hazel eyes. I rlly rlly love gardening, makeup, sports, collecting crystals, sports memorabilia, and tea! I’m an ambivert that loves puns and dad jokes. I’m not touchy-feely and I don’t really like being touched but some days I’m super cuddly and just want my hair played with. my main goal is to have a garden and become an A+ plant parent. I’m boring lmao.

Hello,friend! Sorry for the long wait (which in your case was really, really long. I’dsay I’ll try and do better in the future but you guys know the thrill by now:D)

So anyway,I’m sorry I’m so late and I hope you’re not too disappointed. You didn’t write whetheryou’d like a male or female matchup, so I assumed you don’t care. Hopefully youdon’t mind.

I match youwith… Tsuyu Asui!

You hadalways liked the color green. It made you feel calm and collected, one withyour surroundings. Whether that developed from your love for plants or theother way around you couldn’t tell at this point. Specked with bright red andyellow and blue, hidden drops of darker black and brown in-between, you couldn’timagine a more beautiful side than that of a wide, silent garden. It thereforeis no wonder that you immediately found yourself a little in love with theother girl, who appeared to be the embodiment of an overgrown pond, hidden in amystical forest. She had gave of a calm, yet thoughtful vibe. And although shesat by herself, you could tell she was good with people.

You hadn’tseen her before, although you had come to this place many times. It was a smallteahouse that not many people knew of, run by a middle aged man who haddiscovered his love for arts and the environment only years ago and hadinvested the money he had earned up to that point – not a small sum as he was arather successful businessman, though he had never felt satisfied with his lifebefore – into creating the “Green Tea”. The Green Tea is a very nice buildingwith huge windows, comfortable seats and many, many plants. A backdoor arealeads to a small pond and some trees. Your usual seat – because you become aregular as soon as you found the tea house – became a wooden bench right nextto it. Although the Green Tea is set at the outskirts of the city, it feelslike a different world, far away from the noises of cars and burning screens ofthe huge ads on the streets. But one day you found your seat taken by the greenhaired girl with the mythical aura and big eyes. She was wearing a big sweaterand held her cup in both hands, as if she were cold in the early spring breeze.You considered taking another seat, but then again maybe you’d be able to makefriends with her. Her taste in beverages and establishments seemed pretty goodat least. Before you made your choice, she suddenly looked eyes with you. “Areyou going to sit down-ribbit?” She didn’t sound angry or irritated, but not exactlyhappy either. Like it wasn’t an invitation, but a mere statement. She scootedover a bit and you hesitantly joined her. “You come here often, then.” Anotherstatement. Again neither positive nor negative. She wasn’t even looking at you,instead studying the water in front of the two of you. “Well… yeah. I’vediscovered the place a while back. It’s really nice, don’t you think?” “Itreally is, ribbit.” It was the first time she didn’t sound neutral and you wereglad. “How could you tell?” “You immediately came over here before and onlystopped when you saw me, ribbit. You knew were you were going.” You were surprisedat how easily she could read you, but she wasn’t wrong. “What’s your name?” “Tsuyu,but please call me Tsu.” Now she looked at you and smiled wildly – with featureslike hers not an overstatement. Her tongue poked out. Probably some kind ofamphibian quirk, you guessed.

The two ofyou hit up a conversation. Tsu was an interesting person to speak to. She wasvery intelligent and – as you had figured – extremely observant. She wouldspeak her mind without trouble and seemed very interested in your life. It waseasy to befriend her. It would have been harder not to.

You share alot of common interests. The most obvious one would be your love for theoutside, although you’re tendency towards plants differs from hers to thewater. But there were some more hidden ones, like the shared water-zodiacs anda shared sense of humor. The two of you hit it off right away.

You didn’teven notice how much time went by until your phone started buzzing with textsasking for your whereabouts. You quickly stood up and said your goodbye, unableto decide how to ask her for her contact. Luckily, Asui can handle these thingson her own. “I really like you and I want to meet you again. Can I have yournumber, ribbit?”

You had anofficial date some days later. She informed you that it was hard for her tofind an open spot in her schedule – dating while studying at UA, especiallywith the current conditions of the dorm system – is very hard. Being Tsuyu shemanaged to though and boy were you happy.

She has herown way of doing things and sometimes her straight-forwardness can be anythingfrom irritating to hurtful, but she has a golden heart and a bright mind. Youquickly fell into a very comfortable rhythm with her. She manages to understandyou without words, which means she can tell most of the time whether you’re upfor physical contact or not. Tsu herself is a huge cuddler, especially fond ofhaving her hair played with as well, but she always respects your boundaries.Especially during winter, when the cold makes her feel drowsy, she loves tosnuggle up to you and find comfort in your warmth.

You kind ofhave a present ritual going – in winter you gift her with warm clothes, likescarfs or earmuffs or gloves that actually fit her hands, in summer and springyou find cute houseplants to keep in her dorm. She on the other hand picked upon your love for crystals and will make it a point to find one’s that you don’town yet – even if it takes her forever. She also loves personalized gifts andoften comes up with crazy ideas for homemade things to give to you. You starteddecorating your own room with them.

Altogetheryou fit very well. You enjoy some quiet times in nature, but you also likehanging out with other people and seeing new things. Tsu will always inform youif she likes something or not, which makes her both a great person to seekadvice from and a partner that one can feel very comfortable with. You on theother hand accept her for what she is, not just her achievements and power, butalso all the quirky habits and little ticks she has. You have a verycommunicative and open relationship which gives both of you the space to developas your own person while still being a permanent part of your girlfriend’slife.

[obvidalous]

Drama king (you reap what you sow)

This one-shot is for my dear and amazingly talented friend, @seokanori , whose pics always inspire me!! I love them so much!!!

She gave me the backstory, and the gorgeous art you’ll find in the text is her work as well. You really should check out her blog, it’s fantastic!

She claims she is a drama queen… so I really wanted to give her the drama king of her darkest dreams. Let’s find out what would have happened if Sara never answered Reyes’ last email…

Warning: angst & injuries under the cut…

Looking for inspiration?

Oh, darling what have I done – The White Buffalo (“All my days have turned to darkness / And I believe my heart has turned to stone”)

Bang Bang – Nancy Sinatra (“He shot me down / I hit the ground / That awful sound / My baby shot me down”)

“Pathfinder? Are you there?”

Sara never heard such tension in the director’s voice, she can feel it even on the phone.

“I hear you, Tann. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He ignores the irony in her tone and sighs before answering.

“Ryder, you need to go to Kadara immediately. We have a… situation. Regarding the Collective.”

“Tann…” She shakes her head with annoyance, even if the salarian cannot see her. “Why don’t you ask Pathfinder Avitus? He’s been in charge of Govorkam system for over a year now.”

“Ryder, don’t you think that I would have asked him, if I could? I didn’t want to mention that on the phone, but… I’m sure you heard about the problems caused by the Collective? The kidnappings, the murders? Well, now they have surrounded Ditaeon. We’ve reached a dead-end. They threaten to attack if we don’t surrender and leave the planet immediately. Pathfinder Avitus had to run away after the last attempt of negotiations, which completely failed. They claimed they would kill him and his crew if they didn’t leave.”

“Then ask another Pathfinder to deal with it, or send Kandros and the whole cavalry. I have nothing to do with that, and I surely don’t want to.”

“I still have hopes to resolve this in a peaceful manner, Ryder. Apparently, the Charlatan refuses to speak to anyone but you. He specifically asked for you.”

“Come on! Don’t tell me that we accept demands from thieves and murderers, now? Tann, I won’t–”

“Ryder, this is an order. Turn back now and go to Kadara immediately. We cannot lose this outpost, so I’m counting on you. Tann, out.”

-----------

She doesn’t want to be here.

She strides through the port, with angry steps that prevent anyone to talk to her. She almost runs to the lift, hurrying her way down to the Slums and out to the Badlands. She knows she’s been followed since the moment she set foot on the ground. But as long as no one talks to her or tries to stop her, she decides to ignore the heavy eyes in her back.

When she crosses the fence, her omnitool rings at an incoming email from an unknown sender. She immediately recognizes the coordinates, and fury gains her. Angry butterflies shake her guts, and she clenches her fists to try to control herself.

At least, she doesn’t need the Nomad guidance system. She knows where she’s going.

And she already knows that it can’t possibly end well.

She enters the dark and silent cave, trying not to remember the last time she came here, and quickly moves toward the cavern further ahead. Nothing has changed. The amplified sound of her footsteps on the rocky ground breaks the silence, just like the day she came here with Sloane. Exception made that this time she’s alone, and painfully aware of who is waiting for her.

She finds him exactly where she assumed he would be. He’s waiting in the shadows, his back leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. She doesn’t spot him immediately; she hears him before she sees him. When she stops into the light, a few feet away from him, he suddenly speaks to her.

 “Pathfinder… finally. I was wondering if you’d stop by.”

She cannot believe what she just heard. How many times had he greeted her with this line? How many stunning smiles had he thrown at her while saying the exact same words?

He gotta be kidding me… but alright, shady bastard. We both can play this game.

“Tsk tsk… I had forgotten how dramatic you could be. But your lines are getting a little old. I hope you’re better with a gun than with your mouth… I’d hate to think that you’ve gone soft during this last year, Charlatan.”

He chuckles. The sound sends nervous spikes in her stomach.

“The Pathfinder never loses her wit, does she? But you’re not as clever as you think you are… Otherwise you would never have agreed to come here. Not alone.”

He starts walking in circles around her, with slow, predatory steps. His right hand is lingering on his holster, gently stroking the butt of his gun. His gesture silently states the obvious – he’s threatening her. And his eyes are fixed on her. Dark, cold eyes, that she has never seen.

She doesn’t make a move. He seems disappointed to see her lack of reaction.

“You used to be more careful. I really thought that you’d have brought at least one of your precious companions to protect you. Are you not afraid of what I might do to you?”

“Cut the bullshit. I’m not afraid of you, I’ve never been and I surely won’t start now. What do you want, Reyes?”

“Don’t call me that.” Suddenly, there’s an unspeakable savagery in his tone. He hisses between his twisted lips. “Don’t you dare… calling me by my name.”

“So that’s what this is about? The torture, the killings? The outpost? Some silly revenge?”

He shakes his head. “No. This is not a revenge. And it surely ain’t silly. I did what I had to do to make sure that you’d be here, that you’d have no choice to come in person. I’ve been carefully planning this moment for months, you know. This is my way of saying that you and the Initiative can go the fuck away and leave this planet forever. We don’t want any of you here. Never again. The outpost is not yours anymore. It’s mine.”

She feels electric sparks going through her body. The fear, the anger, the resentment – they’re all too palpable. But she sets the feelings aside – she’s desperately seeking control, however close she is to lose it.

Their eyes are locked on each other. Sara knows that she urgently needs to connect to him, in a way or another. Otherwise she could lose more than just her life.

“Come on, you had me coming all the way down here just to tell me that? Maybe you plan on killing me, just like you killed Sloane, right here?” She points to the ground at her feet, in the middle of the cavern. “Or maybe you’d prefer to remember what we did after that?”

She’s not looking at him anymore. She walks right past him, ignoring the shiver down her spine when she hears him tightening the grip on his weapon. She walks right into the darkness of the cave, further in the quaking silence. She hears him hesitantly following her after a few seconds.

She turns to face him, her back on the wall. She notices that he now holds his gun in his hand.

“It happened right here. That’s where we found a way to make peace, not so long ago, remember? You asked me to come, and here I am. So, let’s discuss this. It’s not too late. Let’s find a way to resolve this peacefully. The Initiative will never leave the outpost, and you know it.”

He victoriously looks at her, with a hint of triumph in his grin that somehow reminds her of a wild beast.

“Funny that you still don’t get it… I brought you here because I wanted you to see. What you’ve done. This is on you, Pathfinder. You’re the only one to blame.”

His hand is steady when he slowly points his gun to her head. “I wanted you to know. The Collective has launched a massive attack on Ditaeon as we speak. I gave specific orders that nobody should come out of it alive. I told my men to kill them all, women and children and every fucking living soul. You have already lost your precious outpost. It’s too late for peace, now.”

His face is twisted with pure evil. He’s exulting at his own cruelty, delighting in the shock on her face.

“Then you’d better kill me too, asshole!”

“No. Oh, dear, no.” He’s mocking her, now. “Don’t rob me of the best part of my plan. I don’t want you dead… I want you to suffer. You’re gonna live with that on your conscience for the rest of your life. I know that this is gonna kill you. It’s gonna eat your soul, bit by bit.”

He smiles ferociously. Sara has no time to think; she raises her arms, blue electricity crackling all around her in a furious wave inflaming the air around. For an instant, she cannot help it, and she yells in frustration and anger, wrapped in a bubble of blue energy that she desperately tries to repress.

“I will kill you, Reyes!”, she growls with a barely contained rage. She cannot hold it anymore – a ray of energy runs across the room and hits the wall behind Reyes, missing his head by a few inches.

 She sees it, then. She catches a short glimpse of hate and despair in his gaze. And fear, too. Time seems to stop for a mere second, stretching in the tense space between them, twisted by the confrontation of their hateful eyes. She sees it, right before it’s too late.

 Nevertheless – when he shoots her, the sound tears her ears. It tears her heart.

 She cannot believe it. She falls on her knees, then collapses on the ground when her legs give up under her. She lowers her gaze to her right arm, in shock, incredulously looking at the bloody hole that appeared beneath her shoulder. She feels no pain. The crimson bloom is growing fast, and yet she still doesn’t feel a thing. Only the aftermath of a predictable outcome.

“You… you shot me!” She’s panting.

“I warned you.” He smirks. “Don’t you ever say my name again. I should have killed you.”

“Fuck you, Reyes! I was trying not to hurt you, you fucking idiot! As stupid as it sounds, I don’t want to hurt you!”

 He hesitates when he hears her words. During a tiny, evanescent moment, she catches on his face a brief peek of who he used to be, of the man she once knew. She sees all of it: hidden secrets and unspoken fears, secret hopes and feared realities. All the things he buried inside, for no one else to see.

It’s like a geyser of tormented feelings flooding over her, a soul bleeding its regrets like pouring rain.

The terrifying darkness leaves her breathless for half a second.

But it all disappears in an instant, vanishing into thin air. His eyes are now closed to her. And she knows it is forever so.

She knows she witnessed the last and frail remains of his humanity. She saw him closing the door, and she has no doubt that he will never open it again, not to her, not to anyone. She suffers for him, for the man that she once thought she could love. And that is now gone.

It’s all her fault. She can see it now. There’s nothing more she could say or do. No looking back.

 So much for bonding times… she thinks with bitterness.

 “I’ll never forgive you for what you’ve done.” Her throat is sore, and she swallows hard.

He doesn’t answer, so she gets up, leaving a bloody stain on the ground where she once kissed him. She sighs.

“I guess this is a farewell, then.” Her voice echoes softly on the walls of the cave. She makes a step toward him, but he raises his gun again.

“Go. Now. Before I change my mind and shoot you for good.”

“You know that we will see each other again, right? ... I won’t hesitate, then.”

“Neither will I.”

 She turns away without a glance back, holding her bloody arm. But she still feels no pain. Only an excruciating regret.

 As soon as she’s out of the cave, she jumps in the Nomad and calls the Tempest.

“Cora, call Tann immediately. Tell him… we’re at war.”

[elmelloill]

Lucky Jacket

AUs are dangerous because sometimes you’ll write a chapter and then your friend will draw art for it and then you’ll end up talking about the clothes characters wear and then you end up writing 2500 words in the AU that don’t belong anywhere in the fic but you just have them now so you’ve gotta post them somewhere, right? 

Anyway. This is because @matte-bat and i started talking about Klavier’s leather jacket on twitter. 

Drabble for my klapollo college AU, Anyway, Here’s Guilty Love, taking place the next semester so I can ignore all the angst stuff that hasn’t actually happened in the fic yet. 

As always, god I hope the readmore works on mobile otherwise i’m sorry

Klavier Gavin was, in general, a very punctual person. Although fashionable in everything else, he was rarely fashionably late, and so when Apollo spent fifteen minutes sitting in the quad waiting for his boyfriend to arrive for their date that evening, he started to get legitimately concerned.

Two texts had already gone unanswered. Frowning at his phone, Apollo sat on the picnic bench, tapping his toe, for another thirty seconds before deciding he might as well try to figure out what was going on. And if Klavier was on his way, the two of them would just run into each other.

That’s what Apollo fully expected to happen, but he made it all the way to the Gavinners house without encountering any tall platinum blonds. Somewhat perplexed, he stood on the doorstep for a moment, and just as he was about to knock, the door opened in front of him.

“Hey, Klav—” he began, but it was Daryan on the other side of the door.

“Good, you’re here,” Daryan said. He looked troubled, and Apollo felt a flutter of worry in his stomach.

“Yeah, uh, is Klavier…”

“He’s fine,” Daryan assured him, rolling his eyes. “He’s just having…a moment.”

“O…kay?”

Daryan leaned against the wall. “You know his leather jacket, right? The one that like, starts to dissolve if he wears it in the rain?”

Apollo nodded. He knew it very well.

It had been a gift from Klavier’s host family in Germany. To many, the jacket might have been deemed unwearable many years ago, but Klavier had been very creative. Loose threads had been diligently trimmed, fraying edges artfully concealed, lost zipper pulls replaced with tiny silver Gavinners charms. The sleeves, too short after Klavier’s high school growth spurt, were in a state of being permanently rolled up, and Klavier managed to make it look like the hem was supposed to be cropped short by pairing the jacket with well-chosen graphic tees. The entire thing probably would have been uncomfortably tight around his shoulders by now if years of wear hadn’t gently stretched and softened the leather—it had quite literally grown with him.

Klavier’s attachment to the jacket was a bit of a puzzle, but then again, many things about Klavier were a bit of a puzzle. He had come back from Germany with a whole new vocabulary, after all, so it wasn’t too strange that he had also returned with a jacket that apparently doubled as something of a security blanket. Klavier called it “good luck,” but whether there was any rationale behind that declaration remained unknown.

“Well, it ripped,” Daryan explained.

Apollo frowned, confused. He was fairly certain the jacket had already ripped, multiple times, and Klavier had been playing it off as an intentional fashion choice for at least a year.

“Okay, understatement,” Daryan went on, noticing Apollo’s doubt. “One of the elbows disintegrated.”

Apollo’s frown turned to a grimace. “Ah.”

“Yeah. So he’s, uh, mourning, I guess.”

Of course he was.

Apollo sighed. “I’ll go talk to him.”

The door to Klavier’s bedroom was slightly ajar, so Apollo pushed his way hesitantly into the room.

Klavier sat cross-legged on the floor, the jacket spread out on his lap. He held the sleeve in one hand and a needle and thread in the other, and he was apparently attempting to sew a patch over the missing elbow. A questionable choice, Apollo thought, but he could probably pull it off.

As Apollo watched, Klavier very slowly poked the needle through the sleeve, and very slowly dragged the thread through. It almost worked, but as he pulled to tighten the thread, a crack snaked through the leather and the material around the thread crumbled into pieces. Klavier’s shoulders slumped.

“Verdammt,” he muttered.

“Hey, Klav,” Apollo said quietly, and Klavier jumped.

“Oh! Apollo,” he said, brushing a hand through his bangs in an attempt to hide how startled he had been. Then his eyes widened. “Oh. Shit. What time is it?”

Apollo chuckled. “You’re very late.”

Klavier looked pained. “Ach. Schatzi, I’m sorry, I—”

“Don’t worry about it. I heard there’s been a tragedy.” He dropped to the floor next to Klavier to take a closer look at the jacket. “Eugh. That doesn’t look good.”

Klavier sighed. “I’m afraid I’m just making it worse.”

“Hm.” Apollo wished he could say otherwise, but it really did seem like the sleeve was beyond repair. “And you can’t wear it like that?”

Apollo was doubtful, but he wouldn’t put anything past Klavier.

Dejectedly, Klavier shrugged the jacket on. No, there really isn’t any way to make that look stylish, is there?

The end of the torn sleeve looked awkwardly orphaned from the rest of the jacket, and as Klavier experimentally bent his arm, the rip in the material only broadened.

Even so, Klavier looked somewhat hopeful, as if he wished Apollo would tell him it really didn’t look all that bad, actually.

“Hm,” Apollo said instead. The glint of hope in Klavier’s eyes died.

He sighed heavily and gingerly removed the jacket, resting it on his lap again. The two of them looked down at it.

“Klavier,” Apollo said slowly. Sometimes, after a long life, old leather jackets have to move on to the big motorcycle gang in the sky, where their zippers never get stuck and they can listen to as much rock music as they want… “I think you need a new jacket.”

Klavier sniffed. “But…”

“Besides,” Apollo pointed out, “it’s not even cold enough for a jacket.” It was October—outside was a balmy 76 degrees.

Klavier pouted. “It was part of my outfit,” he said, his voice quiet. He ran a finger over the torn edge.

Apollo bumped their shoulders together. “I’m sorry, Klav. I know it was your favorite.”

Klavier gave a small, disconsolate nod, then carefully folded the jacket and stood.

“You’re probably starving,” he said apologetically. “We can go.”

He took a moment to place the jacket on his bed, then followed Apollo downstairs.

“You can hang it on your wall,” Apollo suggested. “You know—Miles Edgeworth style.”

Klavier blinked, then let out a short laugh. “Okay, Apollo. Point made. It’s just a jacket, after all.”

Apollo’s bracelet squeezed slightly at that, but he decided to let it slide.

~~~

Apollo Justice was on a mission.

When Clay woke up Saturday morning the following week, he looked across the room to see Apollo already awake and dressed, sitting at his desk and poring over his laptop.

“Are you doing homework…?” he asked doubtfully. Although Apollo was perhaps slightly more studious than average, 10 a.m. on a Saturday was a little much.

Apollo didn’t even look his direction. “No. Hey, do you know any good thrift stores? Besides these ones.”

Squinting at Apollo’s screen, Clay could see a map of the city, scattered with red pins.

“Uh, not really. Why are you looking for thrift stores?”

Apollo needed for a thrift store because both shopping malls that he could reach via city bus had proven woefully inadequate when it came to providing a replacement for a cherished leather jacket. He was moving on to Plan B.

He explained the situation to Clay, who apparently knew Klavier well enough by this point that he wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

“Well,” Clay said. “I didn’t really have any plans for today, anyway.”

Apollo blinked. “You don’t need to come…”

“I’m closer to his size, aren’t I? Let’s find your boyfriend a jacket.”

Then Clay called Ema, who apparently knew the jacket’s history and was surprisingly sympathetic, and Ema called Kay, who was the only one in their extended friend group who had a car. Soon the four of them were pulling away from campus in Kay’s black sedan, Ema in the passenger seat while Apollo called out directions from his phone from the back.

The first store was a bust for leather jackets, although Kay found some sunglasses and Ema spent a long time looking at ties. Clay snatched up a nebula sweatshirt at the next shop, and Apollo actually found really nice suit vest at the third. The fourth store had a wide selection of jackets, but they were all either too worn, too big, or the wrong color.

By late afternoon, Apollo was starting to get very discouraged. The number of stores on his list was dwindling, and, while the four of them had all found some great cheap purchases, their original goal was yet unfulfilled.

“Maybe you can contact the host family,” Kay suggested as they left the second-to-last store. “Find out what brand it is, and buy one online?”

He had thought of that, although he hadn’t needed to go so far as to reach out to the family—he remember the tag on the inside of the jacket. And although the original wasn’t in stock anymore, there were numerous others he could have chosen from—if he wanted to spend his next two paychecks from Mr. Wright, that was. He sighed.

“That’s kind of a last resort,” he admitted. Klavier deserved it, of course, but…ouch.

But his optimism was wearing thin by the time they walked into the final store on his list. It was one of the nicer places they had visited—Kay was immediately drawn to a display of gloves, and Ema drifted over to the selection of button-down shirts—but when Apollo finally found the men’s jackets, he knew right away he would be disappointed. There was one leather jacket, but he could already tell it was too big.

But the rest of his friends were still looking around, so he wandered the aisles absently, running his fingers across a rack of shirts.

“Ah! Pollo!”

Apollo looked up sharply to see Clay skid to a stop at the end of the aisle. He spread his arms wide. He was wearing a leather jacket.

For a moment, Apollo could only stare.

“It’s…that’s…”

“Perfect, right?” Clay said. “And it’s super comfortable, too. I literally don’t want to take it off.”

Reluctant to celebrate just yet, Apollo walked in a circle around Clay, half-expecting to find that the back of the jacket was covered in some elaborate rhinestone monstrosity, or that it had some weird smell. But it was just a classic black leather jacket with a few tasteful zippered pockets, and it seemed barely worn. It fit Clay really well, too, and although Clay was shorter than Klavier, they had a similar build.

“Where did you find it?” He was faintly afraid that a customer would storm up to them imminently and accuse Clay of snatching the article of clothing out of their own basket.

Clay gestured vaguely. “Over there, on a rack. Someone must have put it back in the wrong spot.”

Tentatively, Apollo flipped over the price tag, and exhaled in relief. A little pricey, but nothing like the ones he had seen online.

“It’s perfect,” he agreed finally. Clay beamed.

The four of them made their purchases and returned to campus. Back in his room Apollo carefully wrapped up the jacket in tissue paper and put it in a plain paper shopping back that he had lying around. Then he paused.

Klavier’s birthday had passed in the summer. Their six-month anniversary had been last month. Christmas was much too long from now. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t just give Klavier a gift out of the blue, but it would be nice if there was some occasion…

He was idly scrolling through Facebook that evening when it came to him.

One this day: one year ago.

Belong was the image Klavier had made to advertise the first meeting of the Ivy Pre-Law Society.

That’s as good an excuse as any, he thought, smiling, even if it was a couple days off.

He texted Klavier to make sure he was around, then headed over to the Gavinners house.

Sam let him in. Klavier was in his room, sitting at his desk doing homework. On a Saturday night. Apollo would never not find it amusing that his boyfriend was a bigger nerd than he was.

Klavier turned around curiously when Apollo rapped a knuckle lightly against the door.

“Schatzi,” he said, raising his eyebrows, “what’s up?”

Apollo held out the bag. “Don’t worry, you didn’t need to get me anything.”

Frowning, Klavier accepted it. “What’s this?”

“Your, uh, we-started-our-club-one-year-ago present,” Apollo explained. He shrugged. “I dunno. Just open it.”

Klavier dug into the bag and unwrapped the jacket. His mouth fell open.

“Apollo…” he breathed.

Apollo rubbed his neck. “I know your old one meant a lot to you, and I know I can’t really replace it, but…I dunno, this one probably isn’t as nice? But it seemed really comfortable, so, um…” He bit his lip. “Hopefully it fits, at least?”

Wordlessly, Klavier unzipped the jacket and put it on. It did fit, like a glove. Klavier straightened out the sleeves and seemed momentarily surprised that they reached all the way to his wrists.

“Apollo,” he began, as he adjusted the lapels and flipped up the collar, “you didn’t have to…”

“Well, I wanted to,” Apollo said. Then he smiled wryly. “And you’re not really acting like someone who’s actually about to refuse a gift.”

Klavier, who was partway through securing the zipper, paused. He reddened slightly. “Well. It is very comfortable…”

Apollo laughed. “Good. It looks good.”

Klavier lifted his head, and Apollo noticed that his eyes looked a little shinier than usual. “Thank you, Apollo. This is…you really didn’t have to, but…it’s perfect.”

Apollo relaxed. “I know it’s not really the same as the old one…” he started to say, but Klavier shook his head.

“That one was special because it was a gift from people I care about,” he replied. “And so is this, ja? No less special.” He stretched his shoulders. “And look—no splitting seams!”

“I really can’t believe the old one lasted that long,” Apollo marveled.

Klavier took a breath. “Debatable that it really lasted,” he admitted. He stood and crossed the room to check his reflection in the mirror hanging behind his door. “I may actually be able to wear this for a concert without worrying about a wardrobe malfunction.”

Apollo narrowed his eyes. “Do you ever actually worry about that?”

Tilting his head, Klavier considered this. “No, not really. All part of the show, ja?” He grinned at Apollo over his shoulder, and Apollo rolled his eyes.

Klavier admired his reflection for a moment longer, then turned. “But schatz, now I feel bad. I did not get you a club anniversary present.”

“Eh, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to me.”

“Will I now?” Klavier’s lips spread into a smile. He came to stand in front of Apollo, resting his hands on Apollo’s waist.

Apollo tried to suppress his own smile as he looked up at Klavier. “Yeah, you’re smart, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Klavier murmured, leaning in and capturing his lips.

Apollo responded by grabbing the lapels of Klavier’s jacket and pulling him closer. It was strangely satisfying to do so without worrying that the fabric might come apart in his hands.  

~~~

The next morning, Apollo woke to a text from Clay.

Clay [10:03 AM]: so...... i guess klavier liked his new jacket

One of Apollo’s arms was trapped awkwardly under a snoozing Klavier’s head, so he typed out a succinct message with one hand.

Apollo [10:04 AM]: shut up

Clay [10:04 AM]: you’re welcome ;)

[tzudism]

Love Line

Chapter 2

"Let me see that!" Nayeon tries to grab my paper from my hand. "No! Why should I?" "Well if I'm going to sing it I wanna know what the lyrics are!" "What!? No! Not till I finish the song! I've only written a few lines!" I run away and attempt to hide in my room. "Fineeeeee, but you better eat the pizza I bought." "Whatever!" I pop my head out the door and stick my tongue out and sneak back to the lyrics I wrote down. I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling. I want to see Mina again. I close my eyes and reminisce about what happened today. Am I really falling in love? No way, I just met this girl. But...but there's something about her. I open my eyes and I'm blinded by light. "Ahhhh! What the...what time is it!?" "Relaaaaax it's only like 7 am, you shouldn't have another class for 2 hours or something."

I see Nayeon sitting in my chair. "What are you doing at my desk?" "Well I came inside to yell at you for falling asleep before eating dinner, which I've never seen you do before, and then I saw this so I decided to read it." "Saw wha-HEY! I told you it's not ready!" Nayeon starts laughing as she runs away with my lyrics in her hand. "What are you so ashamed of!? These are cute lyrics! And not just that, they're good!" I stop in my tracks and catch my breath. "Re-really?" "Yeah! My Jeongyeon is in loooove. With who!? You wanna tell me?" "What!? I'm not in love! Even if I was I wouldn't tell you!" "But we're best friends! You can tell me anything! Ah! Unless...Jeongyeon are you in love with me?" I look at her in complete disgust. "Please, I didn't eat dinner, I don't want to throw up." "It's ok Jeongyeon you can admit, come here cutie." She runs towards me and tries to kiss my cheek. "Nayeon! Stoooop, god I hate when you do this! Ahhh!" "Booo! Whatever then, here's your lyrics back. You seem to be on a good track, keep it up!" I swiftly grab my paper and run before she tries some sneak attack. I sit at my desk and stuff the paper in a drawer. I look at my phone to check the time. 7:30. Ugh, I want to sleep some more, but I need to get ready for class. I hear a loud roar from my stomach. Oh that's right...I should probably eat too. I take a quick shower and get dressed. I eat some of the leftover pizza nayeon left me, after throwing away the pineapple of course. I grab my penny board and head to class. When I finally get there I see Mr Peterson inside. "Sup Jerry!" "It's Professor Peterson to you Jeongyeon." He glares, "You're on time to class for once, what's going on?" "I got some decent sleep, I guess." "Well let's hope it was decent enough that you'll stay awake today." "Yeah hopefully." I laugh. I take out my notebook and pencil and get ready. Rrrrriiiiiiinng "And that ends today's lecture." Damn it, not again. I grab notebook and look at what was supposed to be notes, instead it looks like I was drawing how to unravel a ball of yarn. I try to sneak away before Mr Peterson tries to call me again. "Jeongyeon!" I smile as I slowly turn around, hoping he won't yell at me again. "Have you been working on your song for the talent contest?" "I have actually!" "May I see what you have so far?" He says with intrigue in his eyes. "Oh I left it in my dorm room, but I've been working on it really!" "I see, you've at least signed up for the contest correct?" "I have to sign up?" He looks at me in shock. "Jeongyeon did you even read the flyer I handed you the other day?" I take out the crumpled piece of paper and read what's on it. "Let's see...sign up for talent show...blah blah...sign up by the 7th at 12pm at the performing arts building. Ok what about it?" "Jeongyeon, today is the 7th, and it's 11:30." "WHAT!?" I run straight for the door and ride my penny board to the performing arts building. It felt like I was going 100 miles an hour. "Move! Get out the way!" I yell out I check my phone again and its 11:45. Ugh! Why did my stupid class have to be on the complete opposite side of campus!? Soon, I can see the performing arts building coming up and I check my phone again and its 11:50. I run up the stairs and I see a girl walking out of the entrance. "Hey you! Where do I go to sign up for talent show!?" "Third floor, now let go of me!" She yells.

I didn't mean to grab her but I was in a hurry. "Sorry! Thanks!"

I run up the third floor and see people cleaning up the sign up booth. "Oh no! Please tell me ...I'm not...too late... to sign up!" I yell in bits and pieces trying to catch my breath. "Yeah, you still can! We were just getting ready to leave a little early, here's the sign up sheet." This girl passes me this clipboard and sit down in relief as I fill out all the information. I hand her back the clipboard as I stand up. "Thank you so much, I thought I was doomed." "No problem! My name is Jihyo Park, I'm in charge of organizing the event this year, if you have any questions feel free to ask me." "Yes of course, thank you again so much." She smiles and as she turns around I can hear light footsteps coming in this direction. "Wait! Please tell me I'm not too late!" Jihyo turns around and laughs. "Mina! I would've thought you signed up already!" Mina? They know each other? Mina runs right past me and stops right in front of Jihyo. I can smell her perfume as it lingers in the space she passed. Smells like lavender, which I love, and honestly I can't get enough of it. "I know, but I kept putting it off since I'm here everyday and I didn't realize I hadn't signed up until just now." "Well don't worry about it you can still sign up. Besides you're not the only one." Jihyo looks at me and smiles. Suddenly Mina turns around and looks at me too. Then, I realize I'm still dripping in sweat from the ride here, and I hide behind my penny board and try to walk away. "Jeongyeon?" Hearing Mina say my name stops me in my tracks. "Jeongyeon it's you right? The girl from the other day? You're signing up too? Oh wow!" She says with her gummy smile. "Yeah, yeah I am haha." I say awkwardly. I don't wanna be here, I feel so gross. This is so embarrassing. "What are you going to perform?" Mina asks as she writes down her info on the clipboard. "I...I'm not really performing, I'm writing a song and my friend is gonna sing it. It's just some dumb thing..." "Oh I like it! That sounds awesome! What's the song about?" I can feel my face heat up. I can't possibly say it's about her. "Umm it's about this girl who fell in love and is trying to express it...I guess." God she makes me so nervous. Oh how cute! "What about you? Is this what you were rehearsing your dance for the other day?" "Yeah it is! Wait, how did you know I was doing a dance?" Oh no, I obviously can't tell her it's because I was watching her dance without her knowing. "Well uhh you said you were rehearsing the other day when I saw you, and you were in a dancing outfit and so I kind of just assumed." Please buy it, please buy it. "Oh duh! Haha of course." She says with that again adorable gummy smile. "Oh! Jeongyeon you're sweating a bit." Oh no, after coming all the way here and seeing Mina I realize I had still been sweating this whole time. I feel so disgusting. How is this even possible? "Oh boy, I'm sorry, I should g-" Mina starts wiping my forehead with a hankerchief.

"What were you doing before you got here?" "I...boarded all the way from the music building to here so...I guess I'm pretty tired...hey Mina! I'll just do that myself, you don't have to do this haha." I grab the hankerchief and wipe my sweat on my own, Mina suddenly coming in close certainly didn't help. "Oh sorry, my friend sweats a lot while she plays piano and I do that for her when she's getting in the zone, force of habit I guess." "Oh I see, don't worry, you just caught me by surprise that's all." "Mina, I'm still here. And I'm gonna need the clipboard." "Oh Jihyo! I'm so sorry! Here you go!" "It's fine, is she your girlfriend or something? Jihyo laughs, you two are awfully close." "Me and Jeongyeon! Oh no, we're just friends we've only just met!" "Yeah! Yeah...just friends...we met like yesterday." I say hesitantly. "Yeah ok, good luck to you both on the talent show, make sure you stay friends if one of you wins and not the other." "Jihyo! Don't be like that!" Mina scolds. Jihyo laughs and walks away. "I'm sorry, she's such a tease." "Oh no it's fine really, that was nothing compared to someone I know." I shiver as I remember this morning. "Oh Mina, here's your hankerchief." As I hand it to her I realize this thing is drenched and instantly I take it back.

"I'm so sorry, let me wash this before I give it back." "Oh umm sure, but how will you get it back to me?" "Do you have a number? Once I wash it I'll send you a text." "Oh ok! Sounds good to me. Here you go." As I'm putting her number in my phone I realize what I'm doing and I try to calm myself down. "Ok thanks again, I'll let you know when I've washed it." "Of course! It's a nice hankerchief so don't keep for yourself now Jeongyeon!" She laughs. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted. I wave bye to Mina and board back to my dorm. Finally, I can relax, and I lay on my bed. As I think about what happened just now, I decide to get up, sit at my desk, open the drawer, and grab a pencil. To be continued...

Your scent, your gestures Even the way you call my name You’re like, oh like it Now please know my heart, my boy oh neoui hyanggi neoui sonjit nal bureuneun ne maltu hanakkaji neoneun machi Oh Like it ije nae mam arajwo My boy Oh 너의 향기 너의 손짓 날 부르는 니 말투 하나까지 너는 마치 Oh like it 이제 내 맘 알아줘 My boy oh

[artificialqueens]

True Love Cafe chapter 3 (Biadore) -Burgundy

AN: Yo! It’s ya boy with another chapter! So, texting in fics is one of my favorite things, so I included it. Just a small note, the reason Jinkx and Adore have different names in their conversation is because they’ve changed each other’s names in their texts. Bianca and Adore have just met, and just have each other as their real names right now.

The one in which Adore is a mess and doesn’t know how dates work.

Adore: hey it’s me from the cafe, adore like adoreable remember?

Adore hadn’t been this nervous about texting someone since high school, but that’s just because telling someone you have a huge crush on them via text is stressful. There was a horde of butterflies in her belly, and her heart was beating against her ribs in a way that made it almost bearable. Her ears were hot as her phone lit up with a message.

Bianca: Of course I remember you, you were flirting with me instead of running your business.

Adore: oh yknow haha i’m not actually that bad of a business owner

She almost hit herself in the face for that stupid response, wishing she could take it back, but the bubbles showing Bianca was responding had already appeared and Adore was at the point of no return. A squeal came out of her at the next message.

Bianca: Obviously.

Bianca: You should tell me about that. Over a coffee. When you’re not working.

Adore had to set her phone down or she was afraid she would end up throwing it. A warm feeling spread across her body as she kept re-reading the messages sent to her. Bianca was direct, but it’s not like Adore was complaining. She did a small little victory dance with her arms, kicking her legs from her spot on her bed. Her smile didn’t leave her face as she responded.

Adore: of course, at 5:30? tomorrow?

Bianca: Is that when you get off?

Adore: mhm

And then Bianca sent a thumbs up, which made Adore realize how real the situation was. She was practically on the floor, rolling around with her schoolgirl excitement that was flooding her body. But she stopped for a second.

She knew nothing about Bianca.

The information she had was from Alyssa, about Alyssa, or simple things like what color her eyes were (a really pretty shade of brown). A roadblock set itself up in her mind, not allowing her to think about things going right the next day suddenly. Worries started filling up her mind, making her body colder, instead of warm like it was.

What if they’re not good for each other? What if it doesn’t work out? What if they have nothing in common? They had only known each other for about three days, and out of them they had only talked two. Adore quickly opened up a conversation with Jinkx.

dore: JIIIIIIIINKX

jinkxy: is that an excited ‘jinkx’ or an upset ‘jinkx’?

dore: I GOOFED

jinkxy: ?

dore: I’M GOING OUT WITH BIANCA TOMORROW

jinkxy: oh adore i’m happy for you!

dore: BUT I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT HER

dore: SHE COULD HATE ROCK MUSIC FOR ALL I KNOW

jinkxy: this is a predicament, huh?

dore: THIS ISNT FUNNY

jinkxy: never said it was

dore: WHAT AM I GONNA DOOOOO

jinkxy: just ask her things on your date.

dore: what

jinkxy: talk to her. like a normal person.

Adore blinked, looking at her phone. She looked over at her clock, which read midnight already. She plopped back onto her bed, recovering from her previous panic, coming to the assumption that she was really stupid.

People went on dates to get to know the person. Holy fuck. Her body felt the kind of exhausted that it did after she had been crying, which was a good exhausted to be. She looked back at her phone screen, lit up with a “you got this” from Jinkx. Her mind went started going through different scenarios with the date. It could go really well, which was what she was hoping for, or it could go terribly.

Her eyes closed for a bit, and she hoped that she could simply doze off but not fall asleep completely. She would wake up too late, she decided, but her eyes needed to rest for a bit. Her whole body needed to rest for a bit. Maybe Jinkx would leave, and it would just be Bianca and Adore in the small cafe. That thought made Adore’s heart skip a beat. Just the two of them in a small booth, drinking lattes and Bianca seems like the kind of person to have a muffin, right?

She felt fuzzy, a layer of contentment falling over her. The only things on her mind were Bianca and latte art, which she had been getting into. Drawing small designs in the cup and then sending them out just made her satisfied. She hadn’t noticed when she finally fell asleep.

…

 Adore looked at her clock in disappointment, knowing fully well that she couldn’t make it to the cafe on time and still do her makeup. However, after weighing her options, she got started on her foundation, letting her spotify play Hole songs and sighed through the ads.

She only ended up being a few minutes late, so her body calmed down as she stepped through the doors and started putting on her apron. Jinkx stood from the counter, watching her.

“The cafe opens at 8:30, Adore,” Jinkx’s voice was soft and condescending. Adore looked up, hesitantly, placing her small hat on top of her messy hair.

“Yep, it does,”

A beat of silence fell over them before Jinkx finally spoke, her lips pursing.

“It is 8:23, Adore,” and Adore knew the tone Jinkx was using with her too well. It’s the ‘I’m disappointed in you, but I’m not going to say it out loud’ tone. “You’re supposed to get here at 8:15, Adore.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Ah, I’m just joking. You have your date with Bianca today, right?”

Adore felt her tense body start to relax, her legs still shaking a bit from the fake confrontation. Jinkx’s smirk was wide as Adore hopped over the bar to help Jinkx set up.

And the day just kept getting worse.

First, there was an actual fucking child who spilled their drink all over Adore, and she realized just how unhelpful the aprons were. Then, while she wasn’t looking, half of the tips disappeared. Jinkx said that it was nothing, but Adore kept death glaring a small blonde who walked out with a smirk. Finally, right before closing, Adore slipped on some caramel. She felt tears start to well up in her eyes, trying to bring her legs to her chest but not liking the feeling of her legs unsticking from the caramel.

And so she laid there, letting out small whimpers as tears started pouring from her eyes. Jinkx closed up the shop, getting every customer out. She waited to turn the lights off, walking over to the brunette on the floor.

“Dore, are you alright?” she asked, and Adore shook her head.

“Nope, today’s been ruined. Bianca’s gonna show up, see how much of a fucking mess I am, and decide that she doesn’t even fucking want to get to know me,” her words were shaky, her throat hurting with the lump in her throat. Jinkx offered Adore a hand up, helping her up gently, before pulling her into a soft hug.

“You don’t know that, Adore,” Jinkx’s voice was soft and Adore was sure that it was the voice she used with all of the customers under ten, but she didn’t care because it was soothing, “everything’s going to be okay, I promise.”

Adore nestled her face into Jinkx’s neck, wrapping her arms around her tighter. A few more sobs came out of her before she decided that she didn’t want to cry anymore. They stayed there like that, before Adore finally spoke.

“Can you leave the stereo on before you leave?” her voice was slightly hoarse, and Jinkx nodded. They pulled back from each other, before the small bell rang, making them look over at the person who just walked in on their moment.

“Are you ready?” Bianca asked. Adore felt like she was going to faint.

[thefaultinmyhyungs]

To Be Continued...

Genres: Romance, Fluff, Slice of Life, Multi-Chapter Fic

Word Count: 5,674

Jeon Jungkook x OC (Lee Sora)

July 5, 2015

I’m not really sure where to begin with this. Starting with the moment we first met seems too abrupt and quite frankly, it wouldn’t be a fair representation of where we both came from.

Instead, I think it’d be more appropriate to start with an idea. Perhaps the concept of love? Because that’s exactly what it is - a concept. Nothing more, nothing less. Does love truly exist in a definitive form or does it remain subjective and ever-changing? I would be lying if I said I knew exactly what love is or how it should feel.

So no, our first meeting was definitely not the elusive “love-at-first-sight” that we all chase after. Not a cell in my body is willing to believe that such a thing exists because our definitions of love are too different, too unique, and too twisted to live up to even our own expectations. Ultimately, maybe the phrase “attraction-at-first-sight” is more fitting.

I say “attraction” because I’m inclined to believe that it was mutual. Whether or not it truly was, I can’t be 100% certain.

But back to the reason I started this.

It was a dreary Tuesday afternoon when we first met. Not exactly the ideal weather conditions for a picturesque meeting. But then again, I suppose our story was destined to be unconventional in more ways than one.

I was anxious as our car entered campus. Our aging sedan rolled smoothly under the gates of the Busan School of Performing Arts. It was unfamiliar territory, filled with both strangers and new opportunities. I was here to make a good impression and the pressure to do well was constantly in the back of my mind.

I was about to enter what my peers would come to call a modern-day concentration camp for young pianists like myself. Ten days of intense practice in an artistically challenging environment, coupled with private lessons and master classes from highly-educated, world-class professors. It was a festival that many musicians could only ever dream of attending.

I glanced at the clock on the dashboard of the car and took a shaky breath. It was time.

“We’ll circle back to your dorms and drop off your luggage, Sora-yah,” my mother said from the passenger seat. “Make sure you greet the professors politely.”

“I will,” I promised, reaching into the front of the car to squeeze my mother’s hand. “You guys have fun in Jeju and I’ll see you in a few days.”

“You better not mess this up,” Chanwoo, my younger brother, teased from behind the screen of his smartphone.

“Don’t forget to call or text us if you need anything,” my dad urged, grinning at me through the rearview mirror.

“I’ll be fine,” I tried to smile but it came out as a grimace instead. “I’m not a little girl anymore.”

After a chorus of goodbyes were exchanged, I was out of the car and racing towards the music building. Five more minutes and I would be considered late. Late was unacceptable, especially on the very first day.

“Come on, come on, come on,” I chanted to myself as I dashed through the hallways, panting heavily. Just where was the auditorium-

Ah.

I gulped before steeling myself and entering.

“Lee Sora?” a friendly voice immediately greeted me. My ears picked up on the infamous Seoul accent many of my friends dreamed of having, my eyes scanning the room to find its source and landing on a pair of warm brown eyes that were shining with excitement and a touch of frenzy. “Glad you could make it here on time!”

“Hello...Professor Lim?” I managed in a timid voice, not completely sure how to address the program coordinator of the festival. She had seemed nice enough through the thread of emails that had been exchanged between us but her almost manic energy made me hesitant in sharing her enthusiasm.

“Go ahead and call me Yujin! It’s so nice to finally meet you face-to-face! We have some refreshments outside if you wanted something to snack on before dinner. The introductory workshop will start in just a few moments since we’re still waiting on a few late stragglers.”

And just as suddenly as she had appeared, she swept past me with her fingers flying across a small tablet and mumbling about flight delays.

Taking Yujin’s advice, I grabbed a bottle of water and a small banana, before turning around to come face-to-face with the very professor that had invited me to the festival.

I had first met Professor Min when I traveled to Busan for a national competition the previous year. Although the results of the contest had been less than satisfactory, Professor Min had been so impressed by my playing that she had personally reached out to me and asked that I attend her very own festival. It was no secret that the generous lady held many connections to renowned faculty members around the world. Being on Professor Min’s good side would broaden one’s musical horizon, so to speak.

“Professor, it’s so nice to see you again! I wanted to thank-” I was cut off as she wrapped me in a bone-crushing hug.

“It’s been too long, my dear Sora,” she pulled back to give me a warm smile. I returned it, surprised at the amount of strength she possessed despite her age. “I’m looking forward to hearing more of your playing this summer. From what I recall, your Abegg Variations were quite exquisite.”

“Thank you, Professor,” I mumbled in gratitude, touched that she had remembered a performance from nearly a year ago.

“I hope that you’ll continue to grow in your stay here,” she rubbed my arm encouragingly before ushering me inside the auditorium. She left to greet another participant as I continued to observe my surroundings, trying to determine which seat would allow me to socialize the most effectively.

I spotted a girl a few seats to my left, making small talk with a few other participants and gesticulating wildly.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” I approached her, a bit wary of her hyperness.

“Not at all,” she smiled at me kindly, dimples appearing in her cheeks. I smiled when I heard a touch of the Daegu dialect in her otherwise flawless Seoul accent.

“Mind if I sit?” I continued hesitantly, not even bothering to hide my Gwangju accent, secretly breathing a sigh of relief when she shook her head and patted the spot.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, slipping my backpack and jacket off before re-adjusting my hat and settling down.

“I’m Tae Gayoung by the way,” she held out a hand for me to shake.

“Oh!” I turned to her curiously, gripping her outstretched hand firmly. “Lee Sora. You must be the roommate that Professor Lim - erm - Yujin mentioned in her emails.”

“Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed, straightening in her seat. “Please tell me you’re still in high school.”

“P-pardon?” I cleared my throat, my brows scrunching in confusion.

“Although you do look a bit mature for a high schooler…” Gayoung trailed off, rubbing her chin as she mulled over the thought.

“I’m going to be a senior in the fall,” I confirmed.

“A senior?! You must be freakishly talented then,” she smiled in wonder at me.

“N-no, I’m afraid I don’t quite follow your...logic on this,” I admitted, wondering what exactly she was getting at.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but this festival is actually geared towards college and graduate students,” Gayoung leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “Take a look around. I guarantee that everybody here is at least 19.”

I did as she said and realized that she was right. There was a general air of maturity that permeated through the room, a sense of responsibility that often escaped the minds of high schoolers.

Just as the thought of being the youngest one here was beginning to overwhelm me, I spotted a boy with a lanky frame sitting towards the back of the auditorium next to a woman that I could only assume was his mother. He was dressed fashionably in monochromatic colors, his pitch black hair styled impeccably to frame his pale face.

“What about him then?” I asked Gayoung, waiting expectantly to see what kind of explanation she’d offer up this time. “Wait, are you even in college?”

“I did hear that the festival was making some exceptions this year for prospective music majors,” Gayoung didn’t miss a beat. “They’re hoping to start young and wheedle more kids into staying in the music field instead of running off to pursue the sciences or something. And yes, I’m going to be a freshman in college this fall. I just haven’t decided what to study yet so I was hoping to change that by coming here.”

I sighed pitifully before slumping in my seat, accepting my fate of inexperience and resolving to spend the next ten days never leaving my practice room.

“Listen,” Gayoung grabbed my shoulders and squeezed softly. “If you weren’t good enough for this program, you wouldn’t be here. So stop doubting yourself.”

I nodded my thanks before busying myself with the task of making new friends, murmuring rushed introductions and taking the time to soak in new information about the strangers that surrounded me.

As the general excitement of the auditorium began to die down, a boy around my age gently situated himself in front of me. He was joined a few moments later by the boy I had spotted earlier, the two of them easily slipping into a conversation as if they were old friends.

I paid them no further attention, fully engrossed in a conversation about the differences in music score editions when I heard muffled coughing that was slowly increasing in volume and frequency.

I looked up, frowning in concern when I saw the boy in front of me doubled over in his efforts to recover from his coughing fit. I immediately reached down to retrieve my water bottle, twisting the cap open and tentatively placing a hand on his back.

“Excuse me, but would you like some water?” I asked.

“Thanks,” it was the other lanky boy that answered. He took the bottle gratefully, bending down to offer it to his acquaintance. I was about to return to my previous conversation when a hand reached out to grab my wrist and stop me.

“Thank you,” a new voice whispered.

I turned, distracted by the unexpected pleasantness of that single phrase in the warm tambors of the stranger’s low tenor voice.

That was my first mistake.

I had never truly believed in love-at-first-sight, in a happily-ever-after. But the moment I locked eyes with the boy, I questioned that belief for the first time in my life.

I want to say that he felt it too. Whether it was the same enchantment that washed over me was another matter entirely but I saw something in the way his eyes widened slightly, felt something in the way his grip tightened around my arm unconsciously.

I don’t know how long we remained frozen in place. I just knew that as I was drinking him in fully for the first time, I was already trying to commit his face to memory.

My eyes roamed across his handsome features, marveling at the greenish flecks that sparkled in his strange hazel eyes, the bronze glow of his skin, the crookedness of his smile. He was lean but not quite as skinny as the paler boy next to him, his skin taut against the muscles that he was beginning to develop.

I felt a nudge to my side and just barely registered Gayoung harshly whispering my name. That brought me back to reality and I blinked, unable to look away from the boy completely.

“O-oh, you’re welcome.”

My voice sounded robotic compared to the richness of tones in the boy’s voice and I winced at its plainness.

“Forgive me, where are my manners? I completely forgot to introduce myself. I’m Jeon Jungkook.”

The hand that had been holding onto my wrist pulled back and grasped my limp one instead, giving it a firm shake before disappearing entirely.

“Lee Sora,” I answered shakily, clearing my throat. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he smirked, his Busan accent creeping out slightly. “I-”

He was cut off when Professor Min suddenly rose from her seat, clapping her hands together to get our attention. Silence fell over the auditorium and I tore my eyes away from Jungkook, twisting in my seat as I waited expectantly.

“Welcome to the Busan School of Performing Arts,” she began warmly. “My colleague Professor Shin and I are delighted to be working with such potential this summer and we hope that you enjoy your stay here. This will be your home for the next ten days so we decided to conduct a small gathering to acquaint everyone with their peers.”

“Now that everyone’s here, let’s begin the informal playing class,” Professor Shin took over. “The objective of this is to familiarize yourself with the piano and the concert hall, not to determine where you fit in level-wise amongst everyone.”

“So who would like to volunteer to be the first onstage?” Yujin appeared in the back of the auditorium, her brown eyes still wide and eager.

Everyone immediately looked away from the professors, suddenly finding extreme interest in their shoes. I hesitated, trying to decide if I should just go up and get the performance over with. At the same time, I was worried about appearing arrogant or overconfident in case the performance didn’t go well.

“I’ll go first.”

I was saved by Jungkook, who stood up and smoothed out his shirt. Gayoung’s mouth fell open in awe at his ease and willingness. I pursed my lips, unsure whether to be impressed or not by his bravery.

“Wonderful, Mr. Jeon,” Professor Min reclined in her seat. “And what will you be playing for us today?”

“The intermezzo movement in Carnival de Vienna by Schumann,” he declared smoothly as he made his way to the stage. We clapped politely as he took a bow and adjusted the height of the bench.

I sat forward on the edge of my seat, my hands clasped together in anticipation. Schumann was one of my favorite composers and I was particularly fond of the piece he was about to perform. I was curious to hear his interpretation and whether it would be pleasant or not.

His performance was enthralling but not too dramatic and I was surprised to find that I had liked his playing. It had been on the blurry side and he hadn’t followed the score entirely, but his musicality and soul had shown through his playing and I knew instantly that Jungkook found enjoyment in playing.

On his way back to his seat, I caught his eye.

“What’d you think?” he seemed to say.

I kept my face neutral and stared him down, feeling my competitive nature flare on the inside.

Not bad. But I can do better.

“Who would like to go next-”

My hand shot up into the air before I even consciously made the decision to play. Jungkook continued to watch me steadily, silently daring me to top his performance. I walked onto the stage, still unsure where the audacity to challenge him came from, panicking at my impulsiveness but knowing that it was too late to turn back now.

“And what will you be playing for us today?” Professor Min’s expectant voice made me straighten my back. I lifted my chin slightly, hoping that I wasn’t exuding too much haughtiness, and graciously lowered myself into a bow. I rose fluidly, my left hand gripping tightly onto the edge of the piano.

“I’ll be playing a Mozart sonata,” I said softly.

There was a collective intake of breath as my choice of repertoire sunk into the room. It was interesting, to say the least, definitely not as flashy as many of the romantic composers that had become stars amongst non-classically trained audiences. There was, however, a certain complexity to the simplicity of Mozart’s music that caused even seasoned musicians to shy away from attempting it, scared of the bare exposure that was inevitable in the music’s purity.

I sat down and briefly adjusted the seat for comfort before closing my eyes and exhaling once. When I opened them again, my fingers found the keys that would start the piece and pressed down effortlessly, the action almost entirely second nature as the music spilled out of me.

It sounds cliche but I forgot about everything else except for the pressure of my fingers against the polished ivory and the sound that resonated around me. It was almost dreamlike, how I seemed to fade in and out of reality as I started and ended the piece.

There was a beat of silence when my fingers first left the keyboard, the last chord still lingering in the air. Then a single clap, quickly joined by another and another until the whole room was filled with the sound of approval. I breathed a little sigh of relief, satisfied that I had proven myself for the time being at least.

I bowed once more before leaving the stage and heading back to my seat. I stole a quick glance towards the mysterious boy that had temporarily left my thoughts, quickly averting my eyes when I felt the back of my neck flush at the sight of him already looking at me. Now that I wasn’t effectively distracted, he was quickly sneaking his way back into my head and try as I might, I couldn’t find the strength to stop it.

I all but collapsed back into my seat, my knees weak as they gave out from underneath me. Whether it was leftover adrenaline from my performance or the boy, I couldn’t be sure.

“I told you that you had nothing to worry about,” Gayoung nudged my shoulder playfully, her tone teasing and almost proud. “You absolutely killed it just now.”

“You flatter me,” I chuckled, happy that even if the rest of this festival ended in failure, perhaps I would at least have gained a new friend in her.

“That was something else.”

A shiver ran down my spine as I mentally prepared myself to respond.

“The Mozart, I mean,” Jungkook clarified, clearing his throat and making me pause. Besides the piece, what else could he have been referring to?

“Ah,” I said dumbly, my eyes widening in embarrassment at the obvious lack of eloquence in my speech. “I mean...thank you. Really.”

“Of course,” he smirked, his eyes smoldering under the darkened auditorium lighting. He turned back around to face the front just as Professor Shin selected the next performer and I slumped against my seat, releasing the tension in my body.

The rest of the class passed by too quickly, with each performance revealing yet another talented pianist, their unique gifts fully demonstrating why they had been invited to attend such a prestigious program. At the end, I was left equally intimidated and inspired by these artists.

“Professor Min! Please excuse the tardiness I was trying to make reservations for-”

A tan girl with long, glossy black hair came to an awkward halt in the middle of the auditorium as all of us turned to see who had interrupted Yujin’s speech about campus safety precautions. She smiled sheepishly, conjuring up a dry chuckle from both professors and a slight huff of irritation from Yujin.

“Areum, how nice of you to join us,” Professor Min grinned warmly. “I gather that you’ve finally found a restaurant that holds a table big enough for these sixteen wonderful individuals?”

“Er, yes, that would be correct,” she nodded fervently.

“I guess this would be as good a time as any to introduce you all to Hong Areum,” Yujin interjected smoothly. “Areum’s a senior here at BPSA and a student of Professor Min. She’ll be your foster parent for the next ten days. If you need any help, just call for her and she’ll be there to assist you. You can find her number listed in the contact list that I’ve provided in your handy-dandy information packet-”

“Yes, that’s quite alright, Yujin-ssi,” Professor Min cut in. “Professor Shin and I have a lecture to attend and I do believe our guests must be tired and hungry after a day of traveling. Let’s proceed on to dinner shall we?”

“Right away, Professor,” Yujin finally relented. “Follow Areum if you’re done getting registered and unpacking. I’ll meet everyone in the lobby of the dorms for a quick tour at 8:00pm. Don’t be late!”

“Talk about a control freak. She’s probably written down a daily shower schedule for all of us to follow too,” Gayoung muttered next to me and I bit back a snort. We made our way towards the exit of our row where Jungkook and his friend were already waiting.

“After you,” he said smoothly and I had to actively fight the heat crawling up my face.

I stumbled my way to the front of the entourage, ignoring Gayoung’s calls for me to slow down as I tried to put some distance between myself and the distraction that Jungkook was quickly proving to be.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” I cried as I bumped into Areum in my haste. She flashed me a reassuring smile and languidly dismissed my clumsiness.

“No worries,” she said pleasantly. “Don’t mind me, but I missed the introductory session because Yujin was having me run errands and didn’t quite catch your name.”

“I’m Sora,” I reached out a hand to shake hers. “Lee Sora.”

“Ah, Professor Min’s mentioned you a couple of times,” Areum’s eyes widened in recognition. “I was wondering who the Lee Sora would be. It’s a shame I had to miss hearing you play.”

“No, no I’m really not all that special-”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Professor Min’s got an eye for talent, that lady knows when she sees something golden. I mean she’s practically raised Jungkook and Taehyung and they’re Busan’s prodigies-”

“Jeon Jungkook? The one in this program?” I spluttered.

“Yeah the one being an idiot with Taehyung right now,” she pointed towards the back of the group and I caught sight of Jungkook messing around with his lanky companion.

“You know them well?” I broached the topic carefully.

“Well enough,” she shrugged. “Jungkook and I shared the same teacher, before I started attending BSPA. I’ve known Jungkook longer than Taehyung because of that but the two have been rivals in their age division since I could remember. Best of friends too which is kind of surprising, I know. But I guess they’ve both got respect for each other, they’re practically inseparable.”

“Wow,” I exhaled, unsure how else to respond.

“Eh, no need to be too impressed. It’ll get to their heads,” Areum laughed suddenly. “They are dethroned occasionally. It just doesn’t happen very often.”

I nodded slowly, trying to process the boy’s shared reputation. Honestly, it was quite intimidating and I didn’t need another reminder of the overbearing pressure riding on my shoulders. But it also made me curious about them. Jungkook, in particular, but I wasn’t ready to admit that to myself yet.

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself? I’ve gone on babbling for long enough,” Areum said and I grinned slightly.

“What do you want to know?” I brushed aside a stray strand of hair as I turned to face her.

“I want to know how you’ve managed-” she paused and eyed me impishly, a mischievous smirk appearing on her face. “In less than two hours, you’ve somehow managed to catch the attention of Jeon Jungkook - supreme casanova. Tell me, just what did you do to have him wrapped so completely around your pinky finger?”

I blanched, tripping over my own feet and nearly falling into a passerby as her words rolled over.

“Ex-excuse me?” I choked slightly, unable to form a coherent thought.

“Please,” Areum said. “I’ve known that kid for ages. He’s been sneaking looks your way every two minutes and you expect me to believe that he’s not interested? Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?”

“I-I…” I trailed off, unsure how to respond. Confusing emotions warred inside of me, the instinct to run and hide battling with my unsolicited pleasure at what Areum had said.

“I just came to figure out what it is I want to do with my music,” I couldn’t find the courage to answer her directly. “I’ve got to make a decision soon, figure out if this is really what I want to do in my life.”

“That wasn’t exactly what I asked,” she mused.

“I don’t have time to worry about whether Lover Boy’s got the hots for me or not,” I relented. “Although if you ask me, I think that you’re opinion is baseless and completely unfounded-”

“Getting defensive now, aren’t we?” she smiled knowingly and I abruptly shut my mouth. “I’m just teasing, of course. But then again, I wouldn’t mind front row tickets to a summer romance because I really do think you look good together.”

“It’s only been two hours-” I started to protest, unsettled at how easily the girl had tuned into my fresh attraction.

“And we’re here!” Areum paused in front of a quaint Chinese restaurant and ushered us inside. Gayoung latched onto my arm as she finally caught up to me and huffed tiredly.

“Gosh, are we going to have to walk this far everyday just to get into town?” she sighed dramatically, fanning herself.

“It was only a few blocks,” I laughed at her distress, momentarily forgetting my own.

Dinner was a quiet affair as the participants generally kept to themselves save for Taehyung and Jungkook’s witty banter and Gayoung’s determination to convince me that floral-patterned pants had been a major fashion breakthrough.

“I’m telling you, you’ve just gotta give them a chance and they’ll....”

I rolled my eyes at her stubbornness, turning to the side to refill my cup of water only to find that Jungkook had apparently had the same idea.

“After you,” he repeated the same words from earlier and a sudden trail of heat flicked up to color my cheeks.

My hands grabbed shakily onto the pitcher’s handle and it nearly slipped out of my grip until he reached out to cover my fingers with his own and steady it. He guided the lip towards my cup, gracefully filling it before doing the same with his own cup.

He helped me set the heavy pitcher down before returning to his conversation with Taehyung, leaving me to my own devices. I tried to ignore the tingling sensation his touch had left on my skin as I faced Gayoung again and threw myself into the topic of floral pants if only to keep him out of my mind.

I was overly-relieved when Areum finally offered to show us her apartment and use her fridge for our leftovers. The waitress easily poured our food into plastic white containers and after paying for our meal, we were back on the streets.

This time, Gayoung’s iron grip forced me to stay with her in the back of the group. Which also meant that Jungkook and Taehyung were the only ones close enough to keep us immediate company.

“Mind if we join you two?” a deep, baritone voice inquired softly, stopping both of us in our tracks. We looked up to find Taehyung watching us expectantly and Jungkook peering with interest over his shoulder.

“Not at all!” Gayoung was quick to respond and dragged me forward eagerly. “I must say, I absolutely fell in love with your Ondine from before.”

“Thank you,” Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment but accepted the praise nonetheless. “Both of you were very impressive as well. That was a lively Mendelssohn piece, Gayoung.”

“You’re too kind,” Gayoung easily fell into conversation with him.

“And Sora, Jungkook wouldn’t shut up about your Mozart, it’s really quite remarkable. You’ll have to teach us all how you do it with such ease.”

I blushed, unsure whether it was because of his compliment or his offhanded comment about Jungkook, dipping my head into a show of gratitude.

Before I could return the favor, Gayoung had released me and latched onto Taehyung, the two of them eagerly discussing impressionistic composers.

Which left me...with Jungkook.

“Taehyung was right.”

“I’m sorry?” I dropped my gaze to the ground, hesitating to look him in the eyes.

“Your performance,” he clarified. “I couldn’t get over it.”

Ah...perhaps Areum was wrong. Perhaps his interest didn’t extend beyond that.

I looked up then, more certain of the situation. That was my second mistake.

I sensed more than saw his presence next to me, so close that I was sure we were breathing the same air. Startled, I stumbled a few steps backwards before regaining my balance.

“You alright?” his arms were outstretched towards me as though he had made a move to keep me from falling.

“Yeah,” I shook my head. “I’m fine. And thank you.”

“I just think that you ought to know how exceptional you are,” he gave me a cheeky grin as we lapsed into a comfortable silence.

“Since we’re going to be stuck here for the next ten days, might as well start getting to know each other,” he suggested. “Is this your first time in Busan?”

I answered him simply and we gradually found our rhythm, the conversation never grinding to a halt as both of us became more engrossed in each other. I learned that Jungkook had moved around a lot as a child, what with his father having been a military doctor. They only settled down in Busan once it was clear that Jungkook’s penchant for music went beyond a mere fascination and it became evident that he needed the stability of staying in one place to grow as a pianist.

He told me about his older siblings: Junghyun, a doctor in the Gangnam district and Junghwa, a successful lawyer in Seoul. In return, I told him about my insolent younger brother, Chanwoo, and my childhood growing up in Gwangju.

“What brought you to this program?” he asked delicately. Being a senior as well, he understood the stress of making a decision about our futures and didn’t want to pry. I shrugged, knowing that despite his best intentions, he was only curious and doing a horrid job at hiding it.

“Music...it’s my first language,” I began. “There’s the fact that it’s the only thing I know how to do well but it’s also just not something I’m willing to give up. I wish I could tell you what I want to do with it but I just don’t know. All I can say is that it makes me happy to share my passion with others and communicate my thoughts that way.”

“I wish I had half as much dedication as you did,” Jungkook sighed. “I love music with my entire being but I also know that there’s something else out there for me.”

“So you’re not going to pursue it past high school?”

“That’s hard to say,” he furrowed his brow, genuinely troubled at the thought. I decided to drop the conversation because it was a bit distressing to see him look so lost. Luckily at that moment, we finally arrived at Areum’s apartment and she hustled us inside the elevator.

The lot of us crammed into the small space and I sucked in a breath as Jungkook pressed himself against me in order to fit. My head came to align evenly with the top part of his chest, just barely reaching the tip of his shoulders. The scent of sage and fresh rain filled my nose and I almost sighed at the heavenly combination.

Once we were in Areum’s apartment, we handled our business with efficiency and practically ran back to the dorms in order to meet Yujin’s deadline. Orientation commenced with ease and soon we were given our own time to either practice or call it an early night.

Before I could bid Jungkook a good night, Gayoung had already whisked me to our room and requested my help in unpacking her things. Once we were done with that, I made my way out of our room towards the communal area in between the girls’ and boys’ dorms that held the co-ed showers.

Halfway through rinsing my hair, I realized with horror that I had forgotten to bring a change of clean clothes. I finished my shower in a hurry, doing my best to dry myself off with the single towel I had thought to bring. I wrapped the fluffy material securely around my body, making sure that everything that needed to be covered had been, before grabbing the rest of my toiletries and preparing to run back to my room.

That was my third mistake.

You’d think that I would have had the sense to check the hallway before I sprinted into it. I didn’t.

I cursed as a bottle of lotion slipped out of my makeup bag and went crashing down onto the floor. I bent over to pick it up and-

Someone cleared their throat and I froze, screwing my eyes shut as though that would somehow make this situation go away. I peeked one eye open and almost dropped my towel.

“You, um, dropped this,” Jungkook stooped down to pick up my bottle and when I didn’t make a move to take it from him, slipped it easily into my bag. He pulled away, the tips of his ears slightly red, as he offered a kind smile and lifted up his own bag of toiletries, pointing towards the men’s bathroom.

“I was just going to wash up so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. “Sora?”

I blinked, finally finding some courage to respond. “Y-yes?” I gripped onto my towel fiercely, trying to hold together whatever shred of dignity I had leftover, and met his gaze squarely.

“Goodnight.”

Author’s Note: Hey y’all! I know it’s been a long, long time since I’ve posted any writing on my blog but I was finally feeling inspired to churn this story out. This will in fact be a multi-chapter story and I’m thinking that it will have a sequel as well. However, I ask that you please be patient with updates as I cannot promise that they’ll come in a timely manner. There’s just a lot of things going on in my life right now that take priority over posting and I apologize again for the waiting that you may experience. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter and I promise I’ll be back with more of this story! <3

[puns-and-fics-has-moved]

Finding Her

Part 2/5

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Pairing: marliza (maria x eliza)

Premise: modern soulmate au – Eliza and Maria desperately seek their soulmate in a world where their first words to you are written on your arm from birth.

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 1698

a/n: enjoy <3

“Wow!” Eliza cried, grinning. “Um… hi. I’m Eliza … what’s your name?

The beautiful girl swallowed, having trouble thinking. “Um… Maria.”

A gorgeous smile lit up Eliza’s features. “That’s a really beautiful name! And, if I may say, you’re really beautiful too, like… your smile is amazing.”

Maria was taken aback. No one had ever complimented her smile. It was always something about her body or her face… never her smile. “Thanks…”

“Look, I’m so sorry, I have to go teach a lesson, but when does your shift end?” Eliza asked in a rush of excitement.

“At three,” Maria replied hesitantly.

“Can I see you then?” Eliza asked, smiling shyly.

Maria nodded, attempting to smile. Eliza waved sweetly and left.

“Do you not want your coffee?” Maria called, but Eliza was already gone.

Eliza pulled on her hat and mittens as she stepped out into the cold January air. That hadn’t gone as she’d always hoped. Maria was beautiful, but she didn’t seem interested in Eliza. At all. She barely smiled at her, looking too shocked to speak full sentences.

Shivering as she shuffled through the slush on the sidewalk, Eliza thought about meeting Maria at three. Maybe she could bring flowers… violets or roses… and then they could go on a walk or to a movie. Eliza couldn’t believe that this was the beginning of the rest of her life with a soulmate. She’d dreamed about this for years… sure the other party had always seemed more interested in her imagination, but she was sure Maria would come around. They were soulmates, after all.

As soon as Eliza had left, Maria leaned on the counter, head in hands, and groaned. What the hell had just happened?

Her co-worker, Aaron, left his cash register, the line having been cleared, and leaned on the counter next to Maria.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“I’m… I just met my soulmate,” Maria stuttered out, barely believing the words she was saying.

“Wow! Congratulations. Which one was he?”

Maria groaned again. He. It was supposed to be a he. She wasn’t a lesbian… “Can soulmates be just friends?”

Aaron looked taken aback. “Um… I’ve never heard of that happening. Why?”

“It’s a girl,” Maria said. “My soulmate is a girl.”

“Really? Oh, was she the really pretty one with the long hair?”

“Yeah… I guess so.”

“She seemed really nice,” Aaron smiled. “Really sweet. I guess to balance out your salt.”

“Excuse me?” Maria laughed, punching him on the arm. Aaron laughed too, and started to wipe down the counter. Maria’s face settled back into her pensive pout.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that my soulmate’s a girl?”

“Why would it be weird?” asked Aaron.

“Because I’m straight!”

“Clearly you’re not,” he laughed. “Just get to know her, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Three o’clock came, and Eliza was waiting expectantly in the alcove of the coffee shop, excitement boiling inside her stomach as she clutched a bouquet of violets. Maria exited from behind the counter, took a steadying breath, and walked up to her soulmate.

“Hey,” she said.

Eliza grinned widely. “Hi Maria! Um… I got you flowers…”

Maria spared a quick smile that didn’t touch her eyes, blushing slightly. She didn’t want this to be a date, but Eliza was making that quite difficult.

“Thanks.”

“So… do you want to go on a walk, or we could go see a movie, or grab something to eat, or –?”

“How about some coffee?” Maria said, not wanting it to be something so romantic.

“Coffee? Where? Here?” Eliza asked, confused that after working a 6-hour shift in a coffee place Maria would want to stay.

“No. At the Starbucks across the street.”

“O… kay,” Eliza smiled, still a little confused, but excited to get to know this girl. “So, how was your shift?”

“It was fine. Pretty empty, as usual. ‘Cause of the Starbucks.”

“Right. You know, I’ve actually never been to Starbucks. I’ve only ever been to Costa Coffee or, when there wasn’t one around, Bodegas or whatever.”

“Wow. Weird,” Maria said.

“Well, I mean, it said Costa Coffee on my arm, so I figured –”

“Yeah. I’ve worked at a few coffee shops, trying to find… well, you, I guess.”

“Yeah. Me,” Eliza smiled. They entered the Starbucks and got in the long line. There was a silence as they each figured out what to order, then once they’d received their drinks (Eliza paying), they found a seat by the window.

“Why would they call it a ‘tall’ if it’s a small?” Eliza asked, clutching her tea tightly.

“To be fancy, I guess,” Maria said, shrugging.

“Right,” Eliza said.

There was an awkward silence before Maria realized she was being extremely rude. She hadn’t asked Eliza one thing about herself. Straightening up in her seat, Maria asked, “So what do you do?”

Eliza smiled. “I’m a piano teacher. I go to people’s houses and I teach them how to play piano, and… well, it’s not a big deal, but some nights I play in hotel lobbies and things like that. I do weddings, too… I wanted to be a school teacher, but I can’t spell for shit, so I figured that wouldn’t be good…”

“You have the writing for a teacher,” Maria said, relaxing a little and pointing at her tattoo.

“I’ve been told,” Eliza laughed, noticing Maria’s tension easing a little. “Anyway, do you go to Columbia?”

“I got my undergraduate there. In visual art. AKA, the reason why I’m working at a coffee shop.”

Eliza laughed kindly. “That’s cool, though. Do you still do art?”

“Yeah, sometimes… not as much though.”

Maria was relaxing quite a bit. Eliza was easy to talk to. She seemed so genuinely interested in everything Maria had to say. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention; Eliza seemed so… caring.

“I’d love to see it sometime,” Eliza grinned, leaning forward with a beaming smile on her face.

Maria felt inclined to lean forward as well, but something in her stomach caught. This was a girl. She tensed up again, and it did not go unnoticed by Eliza.

“Are you okay, Maria?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. But, I guess I should be going.”

Eliza’s face fell. “Okay, yeah. Where are you going? I mean, I could walk you –?”

“No,” Maria cut her off quickly. “That’s okay. I’m just down the street.”

Eliza tried not to let the hurt show on her face. “Right. Well, can I text you or something? Later?”

Maria thought about it. This girl was her soulmate. Maybe she should give her a chance…

“Sure,” she said, extending her hand for Eliza’s phone. She quickly entered a contact and turned to leave.

“Maria,” Eliza said as the other girl walked away. She turned at the sound of her name. “It was really nice to meet you.”

Maria smiled slightly, touched by her genuine kindness. “You too,” she replied, closing the door after her and leaving the violets behind.

After an hour on the subway, Eliza finally made it back to the apartment she shared with her two sisters. It was a cozy place, warmly decorated, with books overflowing every shelf (all Angelica’s, though the others read them too) and blankets and pillows everywhere, all in bright candy colours. Normally just the sight of her home could cheer Eliza up, but she was upset from the way her date had gone. Was it even a date? Maria didn’t seem interested at all.

“You’re back late, Eliza, what’s up?” Peggy asked from the kitchen, where she was making dinner for them all.

Angelica was on the counter, reading The Second Sex for the millionth time. She looked up from her book and saw clearly that Eliza was upset. She stood up immediately and hugged Eliza.

“Who do I have to punch?” she asked, taking a step back and looking up and down her sister, trying to see if she was in any way damaged.

“No one,” Eliza laughed. “I, uh – I met my soulmate.”

“Oh my God, who is she?” Peggy cried.

“She’s, well… she’s beautiful. Like, really, really beautiful. But she seems really uncomfortable or something. Like… like she’s not happy that we’re soulmates. I don’t know what it is. We got coffee together and for a little bit, I kinda thought she liked me, but then – I don’t know, she just kind of… rejected me? I mean, she just really wanted the date to be over, and I’m not even sure it was a date! Plus, I got her flowers and she… well, she left them behind.”

Eliza’s eyes teared up as she finished her rambling. Peggy, noticing the tears, pulled her into a hug. Angelica, meanwhile, looked thoughtful.

“Maybe she’s surprised you’re a girl,” Angelica said.

“Hmm?” Eliza grunted, raising her face from Peggy’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, it sounds like she’s denying some feelings. Maybe she didn’t know she was queer.”

“Huh,” Eliza huffed thoughtfully. “That would make sense.”

“My advice,” Angelica continued, taking the mom role as always, “is to keep at it. She’ll come around. Why don’t you ask her out again?”

Eliza nodded and pulled out her phone. She and her sisters deliberated for almost half an hour before crafting the perfect message;

Hey Maria, it’s Eliza. I hope this isn’t weird for you, but I’d really like to get to know you better! Do you want to grab dinner sometime?

“It’s perfect. It’s casual, it acknowledges that she seemed uncomfortable, and it’s definitely a date,” Peggy said with finality. “Send it.”

Eliza looked to Angelica for confirmation. After a moment of thought, she nodded seriously. “Send it.”

Eliza did so, and she and her sisters sat down for dinner with her phone lying on the table. Even when it hadn’t buzzed, they grabbed for it every now and then, just checking to make sure she hadn’t replied. After dinner was done and the kitchen was almost clean, finally a buzz signified a text.

Hands dripping with dish soap, Eliza rushed to the table and her sisters crowded behind her.

Maria: Saturday at 6? La Lanterna di Vittorio?

Grinning, Eliza shot back: It’s a date.

[isaiahmax-blog]

☠

 O N E.

isaiah turned the corner, to find the guys who had given naomi a hard time- at a god damn halloween party. maybe his anger is already a little bit spiked, because of that. he’s already a little annoyed, because of how shitty people can be, and because elijah is drunkenly stumbling all over the place. isaiah is stuck on dad duty, and honestly... he isn’t feeling this party as a whole. so of course, that’s when he turns the corner, pushing past a few bodies that are dancing, only to see... ashley. isaiah’s mouth turns up, into a smile, his mouth opening to call out to her. he can see she’s talking to someone, and smiling at them. that special ashley cohen smile. and that’s what gives him pause. isaiah stumbles slightly, closing his mouth, just as more of the crowd clears, and he sees who ashley is smiling at like that. julian. there’s a roar within isaiah’s head, suddenly, as he hears nothing but his own blood, rushing. they’re just talking. calm down, isaiah instructs himself. he doesn’t move from the spot though, not even as others bump into him. he can’t tear his eyes away from the way they’re leaning into each other, and laughing. and then... isaiah feels something within him DROP to the floor, right to his feet, because ashley is moving forward and kissing julian, hard. isaiah feels a bit like a pervert for watching, but he’s so surprised, and shell shocked, that he can’t move. ashley kissing julian is bad, but julian kissing ashley back suddenly, with a great gusto... that’s what makes isaiah feel his breath catch in his throat. the pair are kissing, and kissing. and it feels like the longest kiss in the world. 

“ISAIAH! MY MAN!” one of the lacrosse players slaps isaiah on the back suddenly, pulling isaiah out of his reverie. his eyes pull away from the sight of two of his best friends kissing, only to glare at the player, who recoils slightly. “yo, man. your cup’s broken.” the player points out, slightly hesitantly. isaiah looks down, to where he’s spilled the whole glass of alcohol. isaiah hadn’t even really noticed, but as he glances down, he realises his hands have clenched into fists, turning his knuckles a stark white. isaiah breathes out, sharply, and ignores the player, only to look up and see ashley leading julian away, and into a bedroom. isaiah sees red, yet again, because he KNOWS what that means, and he god damn hates it. in that moment, he hates julian vega.

T W O .

the knocking on isaiah’s door is so persistent, and he can hear julian making a stupid frozen joke. isaiah is angry at the world. he’s angry at being arrested, he’s angry at himself for hiding out. he’s angry for being kicked off the lacrosse team. he’s angry because gina is dead. he’s angry because he saw julian and ashley kissing, then walk into another private room. he’s so pissed off, and now julian is here- as if trying to piss him off even more. go away, isaiah fights to urge to snap it out. his hands curl into fists again, his breathing deepens. just the thought of seeing julian with his stupid smile, and knowing that those lips kissed ashley ... that’s enough to make isaiah want to open the door, just to punch him, right across that mouth, over and over. he inhales, then exhales. isaiah knows his anger is sorely misplaced. he’s upset with julian, sure, but as a whole- he doesn’t want to punch him. he just wants to hit SOMETHING, because he feels so supremely pissed off with the world. and julian just so happens to be there. but no. instead... isaiah swallows hard. he swallows that anger. and he keeps the door closed between them.

T H R E E.

normally, isaiah would never step into a starbucks. he doesn’t drink coffee, and he doesn’t like going to places where he knows he’ll be recognised, especially of late. ( since his arrest. ) but, he wanted to get damaris one of those silly pumpkin spice latte’s people seemed to like so much, just to say thank you for her putting up with him, and being such a good friend, and even better house mate. she’d supported him, silently, when she had been going through her own stuff too. isaiah truly didn’t deserve her. as he pushes open the door to the busy cafe, he steps into the line immediately. it’s moving slowly, but isaiah truly doesn’t mind waiting. he’s feeling a lot better these days, if he’s being honest. he misses lacrosse a lot, sure, but... at least it feels nice to know people are fighting to get him back on the team, and fighting to show the press and media that he’s not some murderous maniac. nobody seems to believe the police, and for that isaiah just feels relieved. the mark will always be on his record, but at least people aren’t treating him that differently.

isaiah pulls out his phone, thinking briefly back to ashley, as always. he considers texting her, just to see how she’s going. it’s his mind that plays tricks on him, he’s sure of it- because he’s certain he can hear ashley’s laugh from one of the occupied tables. isaiah unlocks his phone, just as he hears her laugh, and then her VOICE. he could tell his voice from a mile away. it’s really her. as the line moves once again, isaiah slides his phone into his pocket, and glances around, a smile sneaking onto his face at the idea of surprising ashley here. he’s just glad to hear her laughing, and being herself again. 

“you’ve gotta be kidding me.” isaiah can’t stop the words from falling from his mouth, as his eyes find ashley’s dirty blonde head, sitting with... julian. again. laughing. the two are leaning in over a table together, speaking. and... it’s like they’re in their own little world. like it’s just them two. isaiah’s heart plummets, and the smile on his face is quickly wiped. right. of course she’d be with julian. of course she’d be laughing and talking with him. julian was an awesome guy. isaiah would testify that anywhere, and to anyone, but right now... that fact just pisses him off. he doesn’t need a reminder that julian is smarter, and overall just good to get along with. especially not from ashley. the pair haven’t even noticed isaiah, and why would they? his breathing comes out slightly shallowly, as he pulls his eyes away. he feels such a tight pressure in his chest, once again. not just sad...but annoyed at how public they’re being with each other. he doesn’t know why, but it’s just... the Worst. “NEXT PLEASE!” the starbucks barista glares at isaiah, as he realises he’s been holding up the line. “oh.” he swallows, uncurling his hands he hadn’t even realised had turned into fists. “shit. sorry.” 

F O U R.

“-but up until... you know...” the lacrosse team goes slightly quiet, sombre, at the unspoken mention of gina. isaiah keeps his head down, even though it’s him that the team is surrounding themselves around. he’s glad for their company, but isaiah really doesn’t want to think about that party. or that night. mike nudges cassidy, obviously to tell him to change the subject. isaiah shoots mike a grateful glance, and the energy picks up in the group once again.

“but yo, man, let me tell you. mike got totally WRECKED at beer pong.” cassidy and the rest of the guys are laughing, and it’s just such a common feeling that isaiah can’t help bark out a small laugh too, his mouth upturning. cassidy must find that encouraging, because he continues. “and what else? oh yeah, art was on the banned list, so he didn’t even get an invite to the party.” that DOES brighten isaiah’s mood, as he grins, remembering how good it had felt to finally kick art off the team. he’s glad the other team mates agree. “OH! and man, julian vega and ashley cohen? i heard they totally did it in the parents room. they were in there for a little.” cassidy is grinning, as if sharing the juiciest, best news in the world- but all it does is making isaiah’s smle vanish. “i heard that they’ve been sneaking off in between classes too, man!” isaiah feels a sickening lurch in his stomach at the idea. his mind goes back again, to the memory of ashley and julian at the starbucks, just a few days ago. he doesn’t know if cassidy is telling the truth, because there’s always a LOT of hearsay with ashley, which isaiah tries his best to ignore, or tell the guys to not participate in. “who knew? julian vega. getting his dick wet in ashley cohen.” cassidy shakes his head, as if in awe, only a few of the other guys chuckle, although there’s definitely a tension now. all eyes seem to be on isaiah. isaiah’s mind reels back to the idea of julian, playing the role of doting friend, then hooking up with ashley behind his back. it doesn’t seem like a julian-thing to do, but isaiah’s mind can’t stop itself from thinking it. isaiah slams his textbook closed, a bit too hard. silence falls over the group. 

“yo, isaiah... you uh, want us to have a word with vega?” mike asks. isaiah almost wants to laugh, because it feels like they’re in a MOB MEETING almost, and they’re asking for isaiah’s permission to take julian out. he briefly does consider it though... but really, in the end, he knows he couldn’t do that to julian. or ashley. they’re his friends. no matter what.

F I V E .

“- man, when are you going to believe us, huh?” julian is jogging to keep up with isaiah, who resolutely stares ahead, still ignoring him. “we kissed! we were drunk! it was a mistake! everyone knows you and ashley are basically in love with each other!” julian’s insistent, and isaiah wants to believe it. he really does, because he misses having julian as a friend, and he hates having to ignore anyone. julian gives up on jogging after isaiah, staying put on the spot now, as isaiah continues walking. it seems, finally, julian is fed up. “i can’t believe how immature and petty you’re acting!” he calls out, and that’s what causes isaiah to swing around, so suddenly.

“alright, man, if it was nothing then why were you and ashley sitting together at a table in starbucks, practically swapping spit, a week ago?” it’s an exaggeration, but isaiah is HEATED. julian blinks, in surprise, and then... he LAUGHS. isaiah’s temper rises, his hands curling into fists. “what- that’s funny? it this all a joke to you? tell me this shit to my face then act completely differently behind my back? i don’t care if you’re into ashley.” a lie. “but don’t fucking lie to my face. if you’re meant to be a friend, then you don’t insist we like each other, and then go kiss her and go on cute little dates with her. leave me the fuck outta it, alright?” isaiah’s voice is getting harder, more snappy, with each word. julian’s still smiling, as if in disbelief, and he shakes his head at isaiah, as if thinking ‘poor, stupid isaiah maxwell’. isaiah’s head swirls with his own fury, and his hands curl into fists, tightly, by his side. “stop fucking LOOKING at me like that, you asshole.” isaiah’s words are harsh, harsher then they’ve probably ever been in his life. julian looks surprised, for a moment, just as isaiah turns to walk away.

“WAIT-” a hand goes to isaiah’s bicep, and isaiah just... s n a p s. as he spins around, his fist is raised, and sinks right into julian’s face, just as he’s briefly imagined doing. only this time it’s real. it connects with julian’s cheek, hard, staggering the other boy back, and as soon as it happens- isaiah knows he’s fucked up. the anger all leaves him at once, and his eyes are wide open, in shock at his own actions. he punched julian. he punched his friend.

“oh fuck. fuck. fuck.” he breathes out, already taking steps closer, in alarm. “i’m sorry. shit. julian, fuck. i’m- i’m so sorry.” isaiah’s hands go to his hair, as if about to pull it out. “i shouldn’t have done that, i-  wasn’t thinking. are you alright? let me take you to the nurse. please. oh god, i’m sorry.”