#but my god does it make a difference when professors make active steps to show that classroom respect gies both ways. yknow

[annabelle--cane]

honestly it's so much easier for me to submit big assignments on time without extensions if my professors just say "I understand that life happens but it makes my job a lot more complicated if I have to keep track of late submissions" instead of the old "your poor time management is your responsibility <3" routine. if you sound like you're just power tripping at the expense of your students, I won't respond well, but if you talk to me like a person then I'm totally willing to work with you to keep everyone on schedule.

[mskimkaty]

I AM THAT GIRL

angst, slight fluff, smut

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION, MENTAL ILLNESS, SUICIDE, SELFHARM, DRAMA, SMUT, VANILA SMUT, SWEARING, KIM JENNIE IS A BITCH HERE AND SO OTHER MENTION REAL LIFE PEOPLE BUT ITS PURELY FICTIONAL.

synopsis:Johnny Suh, the most popular boy in college, tried to take his life? what could possibly go wrong with his wealthy background, popularity, and basically having everything in the palm of his hands?

expected word count: 12,692

release date: 01/18/21 (somehow, got deleted. so Im reposting)

details: college!au, strangers to friends to lovers!au.

JohnnySuh x reader.

Johnny Suh walked the hallways in his college ground and not one passerby gives him the freedom to do his business. Students give him a look of pity, as acquaintances try to give him fake words of comfort that disgustingly crawls at the back of his skin.

They were just into the gossip, but they never really care. It was obvious from how they whisper behind his back for looking out of place and out of character, he could see their mocking gazes every time he walks past them.

he pulled his hood up and covered his old blonde hair now dyed into jet black, the usual smile plastered on his lips was now in a tight line and was placed the usually friendly demeanor with a scowl on his face.

people are staring, not in a good way, but because he looks ridiculous in their minds.

"Youngho, if you need anything, I'd gladly do it for you." Johnny heard his Korean name roll of someone's lips and now he feels disgusted with himself for the 9th time that day, he was back to zero and the acid rushes past his throat and he might vomit with the anxiety building up in the pit of his stomach upon hearing his birth name. He halts his movements and turns around to face Kim Jennie.

How does she have the nerve to say that when she cheated on him with Jongin? He treated him like a brother. Her hands travel on his biceps, the usual warmth he felt in the past now buried at the back of his memories, and now, he's just disgusted with her. He ignored her and continued walking past her, Jennie's peers were instantly beside her to console her with words of comfort because her ex-lover practically brushes her off like she was nothing.

You didn't expect a drama unfolding in front of you while standing in your locker area, Christmas break was finally over, and now students are back putting their noses in other people's business. Especially, Johnny Suh's business.

You shrugged your shoulders and walks back to your class, this is definitely a way to start your first day at this University.

Johnny sat at the far back of the room, sporting unusual dark clothing rather than the usual light colors of his wardrobe, the professor walks in, shaking his head upon seeing him at the back completely not understanding how Johnny's mind works.

Johnny knows, just by the look his professor is giving at him, he knew and have seen that twice already — he couldn't control the urge to stand up harshly making the chair he was using falls down to the ground as he walks to the door not bothering to look back, stunning everybody in the room.

When Johnny came back to school after his attempt, he felt more pulled down in the darkest pit inside him, he was unhappy more than he did when he was attempting. The funny part? when people knew about his attempt, people started flocking around him as they cared, but it was obvious. They just wanted to be with him because of his surname and money.

Even Jennie did not differ from the other students trying to impress him. The sad part about it is that he genuinely liked her, but she was just up for it because of the money and fame, and maybe the good fuck. His friends were no different, people might think that he's happy being the captain of the football team, but his life was toxic with every moment. He was in more pain than ever, his friends who were his teammates low-key discarded him thinking he's a freak saying he needed to seek attention.

Johnny knew that they weren't practically saying that to his face, but they were showing it.

They weren't wrong, he knew that, but it was different. They were all trying to impress him, worshiping the ground he walks on and now he's on the rocky side of the road, they drop him? because their parents told them to?

Johnny empties his locker, blindly shoving everything in his duffle bag when his best friend, Kim Jongin, walks inside. He hardly shoved everything inside his bag and harshly closed his locker's door, scowling at the older boy.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" he heard him. "This isn't you at all, why are you suddenly changing? Johnny, I already said I'm sorry." that's the ugly fact. People around him are blind enough not to notice the slight changes in him and the little signs that he wasn't mentally stable.

"This isn't an apology. You're asking me to suck it up. It's Different."

Lunch came and Johnny has nowhere to go, not with all the pity looks the student body is giving him, he had a take-out for his meal and had his lunch alone in an empty room. deciding he has no appetite to eat something, he walked out of the building and drove out to Nakamoto Yuta's basement. He's supposed to be dead two weeks before this day, but here he was, seeking for Yuta's dirty business.

"Johnny Suh." Nakamoto Yuta was known for his dirty business around campus, selling overpriced illegal transactions under the table, tattoos, and piercing. "Stop talking like I'm some god. No god would try to kill himself."

"figures."

"I don't understand, how are you still in the university and not behind bars?" Johnny asks after taking a long drag on his blunt.

"This is the only way to have food on the table, and I need to graduate. I rather do these than sell my body."

Sadly enough when Johnny checked his phone, no calls or messages from his parents. As cliche as it sounds, he wants his father to check on him but after seeing him in his room bathed in his blood on the ground, his father drifted more away from him.

When he got home that night, his family was having dinner without him, his younger sister, Yerim, ran up to him and hugged him. "Oppa, where have you been? I've been calling you." his sister was the only purest being for him, and he distances himself around her, he doesn't want him to expose her to things that only he knew.

"Yerim, go to your room." the impersonal voice of their father surrounds the dining area and Yerim flinch. looking up to his eyes before walking away.

Kim Ji hoon walks up to him and looks at him with disdain. "Stop being a disgrace, If you can't act like your invisible. I don't need a disgrace in this house." It wasn't new to Johnny anymore.

His father may not be vocal about it in the past but he knew that his father doesn't want him to breathe the same air he does, if God may allow it, he knows that his father wanted him dead, he wanted his father to acknowledged him, and he did everything, that was when Johnny was kissing up to his reputation of being the good son, ace-ing all his grades, being the captain of the football team, doing unnecessary extracurricular activities for extra points, being the good boyfriend, good friend, good son, and a good brother, but it was all too much for him, he felt that he was borrowing someone's life to the point that he doesn't recognize him anymore.

His father hated him so much that he didn't even give him his last name, and the ugly part about it is that Johnny understood his father because he was the reason his mother died. "You can't even do one thing properly, and now everyone living in this town knows about you killing yourself."

"Are you saying that I didn't properly kill myself?" he wanted to vomit. He chuckled as he ran his hands down his locks. "Go fuck yourself," he murmured and walk down to the guest room where he was temporarily sleeping, his step-mother hasn't asked the helpers to clean his room's carpet that is still bathed in his blood, he looked at his wrist that is covered in a bandage, the ugly reminder that he was unhappy and that there is no saving from this anymore. Finding the reason to wake up was hard enough and going to school was another thing, but he did anyway.

People still gossip behind his back, ugly as it sounds, people are disgustingly twisted. He smirked upon hearing he still looked hot as fuck with black hair, one student saying she would gladly do him, blonde or black.

"Jennie must have cheated knowing that he's a freak."

"hey, he might hear you, lower your voice."

"He needs to seek professional help."

"I don't understand him at all. His popular, his ex-girlfriend was fucking hot, he's rich, has great looks, and has a hella hot of a sister." something snapped inside him when he heard some asshole talked disgustingly about his sister.

Before he could even think properly, Johnny repulsively pushed the guy up to the wall. "The hell!" the stranger shouted as the other students stop to stare.

"Did you fucking talked about my sister like that?"

People are staring not because of an aggressive man pushing a full-grown body against the wall like it's nothing. it's not uncommon to see a fistfight for the entire student body to see, people are staring because, Johnny Suh, for once stunned everybody with his demeanor that is completely out of his character. Yes, he is a big guy, but he was kind, sweet, and friendly, so Johnny using force for the first time against someone was a sight to see, added to the fact that this is the first time people heard him cursing, and If eyes could kill already, the guy who talked shit about his sister is practically dead right now, he would brush it off in the past, blindly ignoring gossip about him but this is the first time that someone disrespects his sister right in front of his face and definitely, it is the first time that he gave less fuck about his reputation.

Johnny stared at the man that lacks the urge to answer him, him sending shivers down the stranger's spine. He manhandled the guy and throw him down the floor. "You had the nerve to run that filthy mouth against my sister but doesn't have the balls to answer when I'm confronting you?" he smirked and walked away.

Johnny spent the whole week going to the university but doesn't bother attending his classes, he doesn't want to be left alone at home but doesn't want to go to his classes. He just lost every motivation to do something productive.

Johnny walked his usual path these past few days, going to an empty room on the 4th floor of the Marketing's building to kill time, he gently pushed open the door and saw you changing your clothes. You were almost done, putting your white dress shirt over your shoulder without noticing that you're giving a stranger a free show.

Johnny freezes up, staring and lingering more than usual. He was mesmerized by how your skin glistens under the light slipping through the windows, but what made him stop on his track is the lack of hair you have in your body. It's just smooth skin all over your body.

When you felt someone behind you, you turn your body around to look at the intruder, you saw someone and instantly locked eyes with him. At first, you were scared of seeing Suh Johnny behind you, Johnny got a full view of your unbuttoned shirt and your chest clad in your undergarments. it's not like you saw a ghost, he didn't die per se, but then it has drawn to you, that Johnny, in the flesh, saw you changing clothes. Your reflex acts up and you turn yourself away from him, pulling your clothes to hug yourself, you fix your buttons as you run out to get out of the embarrassment.

The next day, you went to your usual spot in the library to eat your lunch when you saw somebody sitting on your chair. You shrug your shoulders and sit across the stranger who had his head tucked in his arms on the table. You were excited to eat your favorite sandwich because your mother specially made it for you, it was a rare moment given your mother raised you and your sibling alone, having to work two jobs at a time just to put food on the table and to send you to a good school. You appreciate her and love her with all your heart, she was the only one you had next to your older brother, you were good at being invisible, it was your last semester at the university. Trying to finish one subject and your practicum silently like you didn't exist at all. You laughed at the fact that you had no one in this damn hell, but you didn't care.

You started eating your sandwich in silence while opening a good book to read, you were happy in your bubble. Johnny must have heard you as you flip pages after pages. His stomach growling after registering the wonderful smell coming from his surroundings. When he lifts his head, his eyes flicked to your form, silently eating while reading a book, you were so happy in your little bubble, giggling while reading. He straightens his back and you notice the guy across you, putting a face in the stranger who sleeps across you.

A blush crept up on your face when you realize it was Johnny again, you remembered the recent events that happened between the both of you, and your embarrassed ass started coughing hard, you hold your neck rather than reaching for the bottled water in front of you as you choke none stop in front of him. He was left dumbfounded for a couple of seconds but reach for the bottle and unclasp it before handing it to you, you chugged half the contents down your throat and he watched you with fascination.

"Thank you." You said in a small voice.

You put the bottle back in its place as silence hangs in the air, it wasn't a bad kind of silence, but it was awkward. You offer him the other half of your sandwich as you watch him look at you questioningly. "Your hungry." It wasn't a question. You knew he was hungry given you kept hearing his stomach growling a while ago. "You know a little food won't hurt you right?"

Johnny laughs at your ironic statement but accepts your offer anyway, "Don't get your hopes up, I'm not up for a casual relationship." he says as you thought that he wouldn't accept your offer, given that he's rich and can buy a much better lunch than what you're currently having, but then again, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

"I was just offering you food."

"Thanks." When he finished your sandwich rather quickly, he went back to sleeping in front of you. He liked hearing the sound of you flipping pages after pages as you read your book silently in front of him and the occasional giggle you let out when read something funny. When he woke up to go home, you were gone, but you left your coat as you hung it around his shoulders to keep him warm.

When he came back the day after, in the library, you didn't come back.

The next morning, Johnny awoke earlier than usual, heading to his car without giving a glance at his family, Yerim saw him and was rather puzzled at the baby pink coat he was holding delicately in his arms. He drove fast to get to the university, walking inside the library to wait for you if ever you were going to be there again.

Lunch came, and your guess was right, you see the same blacked haired boy taking a nap in your usual spot with your coat right beside him. You sat across him again and started minding your business, but this time, you had another bag of sandwiches repaired for him. You weren't ignorant about Johnny's attempt, but you choose to respect his space, you knew that he wasn't mentally stable yet. He might look fine outside and you might not know what goes inside his head, but you knew that he isn't fine. No one's mentally stable, everybody has their hardships in their private lives going on right now, but the important thing is that people shouldn't use it against someone, and as long as they don't step on other people to feel better for themselves then it's good.

You might not understand what he's going through right now, you weren't friends, to begin with, but you feel for him. Sincerely.

Johnny felt peaceful for once after many years, it was an odd feeling, but it wasn't bad. You were browsing your phone, checking your emails and your mother's, clearing and archiving unimportant ones. You look at the time and it was already half past lunchtime. Wednesday is a pain in the ass for you, you have to wait for 5 hours until your next class in the afternoon. You didn't notice Johnny waking from his nap, seeing as you still haven't touched the sandwich bags in front of you, he's guessing you still haven't eaten.

"I'm Johnny."

You look at the man in front of you, his usual strawberry locks are now turned into black, sporting a gray hoodie over his black shirt and matching gray track pants. You study his expression, his not extending his hands for a handshake nor his face valid of any emotion, yet you smile and said "What happened to not being in a casual relationship?"

Johnny was taken back, you give him the sweetest smile you could offer and handed him the extra sandwich you had, "You know, some people would reply with their names." he said as he accepts the food that you offered, you look at him as if contemplating before speaking.

"Y/n"

"I'm not sure, but what department are you from?" he asked after taking a bite of his food. "This is good, by the way. Who made this?"

"What question do you want me to answer first?" you asked laughing. "My mom made it, and I'm from the same department as you, Though, I just transferred to this school after the Holidays,

If he was shocked he didn't show it, Johnny nods his head as if acknowledging you, "I just want time to pass by quickly and silently, that's why no one knows I exist here. I'm just trying to live another day until I graduate." You said making Johnny fall silent.

"Good for you," he replied after a good minute with the both of you munching on your foods. "Was it hard?" he asked.

"What is?"

"You don't seem to have anyone, do you even have friends?" you laughed at his statement because it was the truth. "Yeah, something like that. It wasn't that bad I might have no friends because I choose not to have any relationships with anybody in here."

"That sucks, I'm not going to ask the reason why you transferred in the middle of the semester because that's your business, not mine," he says, you study his face and you weren't sure whether to run your mouth over his business or not, deciding against it you stood up and take your things with you. "Let me show you something."

Walking down the stairs while both of you kept a little distance, you lead him to the visual room, pulling the keys in your backpack and unlocking it. "Why do you have a key to the AVR?" he asks bewildered.

"Perks of being the teacher's pet," you replied as you pulled him inside, turning the computer and projector on, you played a video about constellations and aimed the projector above.

Stars hover above the two of you and you urge him to lay down beside you, looking up and taking a moment of peace to embrace both of you.

"When things get hard and I tend to be alone; let's be honest, no one wants to feel lonely, especially at the hardest times of our lives. But then, you can't force someone to be there with you physically and emotionally and it sucks to have yourself suck it up for being alone. So, I do this, I take my time staring at these constellations. You see, they're really beautiful to me. I find them fascinating, they have this beautiful meaning behind them, it was always fun finding their patterns, connecting them until they're complete, you just have to look closely, in that way, you'll appreciate them more." you smile while pointing above you, he might not look at you but your presence beside him does him wonders, it was so powerful that even if he closes his eyes, he still feels you beside him. The warmth he was feeling coming from you, your steady breathing, and your sweet scent.

You spent your Mondays and Wednesdays with Johnny, eating lunch together, or spending time as you watch different constellations every week.

Friday morning, you made a quick detour to your department before clocking in for your practicum, before leaving the premises a professor asked you for a favor and you agreed to make a copy of the files she was asking for. When you came back from the printing room, you saw a commotion ahead. It wasn't you to pry on other people's business, but your legs must have their mind when you saw a familiar tall build that is clad in a black hoodie.

Johnny Suh stands in the middle with Kim Jongin and Kim Jennie on the other side. He was hyperventilating.

"Just leave, please." Kim Jongin shouted at him, you can see the obvious horror written on everyone's faces. Kim Jennie was stuck beside Jongin as she shed tears silently, disbelief written in Johnny's face.

"Do you know what went wrong? it's because you were never enough." Jennie drops the bomb for everyone to hear, Johnny was livid. If he could crush everything that he could see he would take the chance and do it. If he could take his life again, he wouldn't give a single fuck and he'll gladly do it.

"I can't believe you both. I wasn't the one who cheated with my best friend, why the fuck do you act like it's my fault?" you heard Johnny said and for the first time your heart broke for him.

You found him in your usual spot in the library, his head hanging low and his body shaking as he tries to catch his breath. You drop your coat over his head and give him the bottle of water you were holding, instead of sitting across him, you sat next to him without overstepping and respecting his space to cool down.

When he started to calm down, he handed your coat back to you, stood up, and left the library. Saying you were dumbfounded was an understatement but you choose to understand him.

Days passed by and Johnny was still a no show. When a week has already passed without seeing Johnny, you started to get worried. You wished you asked for his number, but then again, you weren't even that close, to begin with. You decide to spend your long-vacant in the visual room, playing random constellations as you think about a certain boy.

When that certain boy suddenly appeared right in front of you. "I'm sorry." He had his hands inside his grey sweatpants.

"What matters is that you came."

Johnny joined you on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, after a moment of silence, he spoke up. "Why did you help me? why do you even care about me at all? I'm a mess."

"Aren't we friends?" You asked even though it was clear that he turned your offer of friendship down a while ago.

"What you said about the constellations earlier made me realize how I took myself for granted and at the same time how ungrateful I am."

You look at him and give him the chance to speak up. "I didn't have the will to live, do you know that you are annoyingly optimistic about everything?" He jokingly asked, and you laughed with him.

"Is that a compliment or what?"

"I still don't have a reason to be here." He suddenly says. Johnny looks at your face as if reading you, he was prepared to see you pitying him but there was none.

"You don't have to look for it. You have yourself because, at the end of the day, you only got your own back," you turn to him as you give him a look. Johnny envied you, it was obvious, and you can read him like an open book. "Don't, don't look at me like that, Johnny Suh." the way his name rolled down your tongue felt flawless, as if you were born to say his name out loud.

"We all have our shortcomings, I'm not perfect nor are people around me, no one is, and we have to accept that fact, give less care about people who can't accept that."

"It's not as easy as it seems," Johnny says, your hand brushing back the stray hair that falls on his forehead as if your hand has a mind of its own. "Sorry-"

"It's fine. I like it." Both of you turn towards the ceiling as you continue to watch the stars, keeping the comfortable silence and just hang around each other.

For weeks, spending time in the library and the visual room to watch the stars has been your thing with Johnny Suh, you couldn't even imagine being friends with the likes of him, you view him as a constellation star, he's mysterious behind his disguise as he tends to fool everyone with, he was hard to reach and was always up above you, he brightens the surroundings like how the stars brighten the night sky, for you, he was more than the famous campus boy that everybody likes, even if he can't realize that.

Weeks passed by and you look forward to your Mondays and Wednesdays than the fact that you are graduating.

You were busy transferring your books to your backpack as you stand in front of your locker when Johnny came to you. "I didn't know we have the same classes."

You were stunned when you saw him talking to you in the open, students started looking in your way as if seeing a history. The most known guy in the University is with a nobody, but you shrugged it anyway as you closed your locker's door. You bite back at your tongue with all the attention you were getting, anxiety creeping out to you but you choose to ignore it.

"You weren't even attending your classes," you told him as you fix your backpack, the both of you started walking, keeping the same slow pace and taking your time.

"Well, I now have a reason, at least," he says as he grabs the strap of your bag and slings it in his shoulder. You ignore the bubbly feeling inside you and continued walking. Smiling at yourself as you forget about the stares around you.

"You're so cheesy, Suh Johnny." You giggled at him and for the first time, you saw a genuine smile creeping on his face.

When Lunch came, both of you sat outside to enjoy the sunny weather. "I'm going to start my Practicum next week," Johnny told you suddenly, and you stood up so fast to walk around the table to hug him.

"I'm so glad!" the sincere happiness is written on your face that even Johnny laughs with you.

"Thanks to you, I feel like, there's more to it than ending my life at the age of 21," he says and you shake your head at him.

"No, I didn't do anything. It's mostly you. I'm just here beside you to guide you, but it's your own will."

"I'll be honest with you, hurting myself still runs on my head but the difference this time is, I'm scared to do it." you didn't know what to reply to that so you just extend your hands towards his and hold it firmly in your grasp.

The rest of your day went ahead without you noticing, time flies by rather quickly when you are with Johnny. You stood waiting for your bus to arrive when a black Audi stops in front of you. Its windows rolling down and you see Johnny peeking through the window to smile at you.

"You want to wait for your bus or be logical and save time?" you laugh at his way of asking you for a ride but walk towards the passenger to join him in his car otherwise. The car ride was rather chaotic, you were debating about what to put first, milk or cereal, and you felt the horrors when Johnny says he puts milk in first. He was laughing like a child at how horrified you look.

"Anything's fine with me. I put whatever in first," he says after a long minute of arguing.

"I'm telling you, not to live like that!" you argue back. "Cereal comes first and then milk goes in, just imagine, do you pour the soap first before the water? it's water before the soap!" you explained and he laughs at how rilled up you get.

The argument was cut off when you arrived at your house. Johnny parked his car in front of your house and for some reason, your mother came in wearing an apron over her clothes. She raises an eyebrow at the unknown car blocking her driveway and you look at Johnny who looks back at you.

"Your mother is intimidating." He says.

"Want to come over for dinner?" you ask, and It took him a second before responding, " You think that's a good idea?"

"Come on, Mr. Suh, grow some balls, it's just my mom." Johnny looks offended at your statement.

"I have balls that girls flock around with," he retorted. You sigh and open the passenger seat greeting your mom with a smile as you ran to hug her.

"Can my friend stay for dinner?" you asked after hugging her. Johnny is behind you as he introduced himself as your friend and your mother shocked him by giving him a warm hug.

"There's still room for another boy in my house, I believe, it's no problem." Your mother stated as Johnny gives you a confused glance. Your mother invited him in and you welcomed him.

Inside, your older brother, Taeil is strumming his guitar with three other guys in the living room. "Oh, This is my Brother, Taeil." you casually said at him as you hung both of your jackets.

"You didn't tell me you have a brother." He whispered at you, standing awkwardly beside you. Taeil waved at him and you push him to sit beside Jaehyun.

"This is Jaehyun, Doyoung, and Ten. They're all bandmates during high school so they're always here for my brother," you explained. "And your mother's cooking." Ten added.

"Well, now you know," You said as you turn to him. "Let me just go to my room and freshen up real quick, just make yourself feel at home," you say as you back up on your track. "Cool."

Johnny didn't feel out of place for some reason, he was really happy that he got to meet your brother and his bandmates, they were cool to be around. They entertained him and ask what were his hobbies are and for the first time, he took his time to think about what he likes to do. He likes to draw.

When dinner was served, all the boys helped your mother to set up the table, Johnny was persistent in helping even after telling him to sit and wait because he was a guest. You let him help otherwise.

Dinner was well spent, he enjoyed talking with everyone and your mother even asks him to visit anytime he wants. Taeil takes a liking to him, asking him to hang out whenever he's free. Johnny presented to do the dishes and you helped him when he was done his shirt was a total mess because of the water splashing through the faucet, a good thing is that your brother has some clothes that are way oversized for him, and he lets Johnny use them.

You handed him the shirt, accidentally seeing a huge bruise on his chest and stomach, before you knew it, you stop him as he was about to put his shirt on. "What happened?"

His bruises must have slipped his mind and he mentally cursed himself at it. You were horrified. "Johnny, are you getting beat up?"

"I don't want to talk about this," he pulled his shirt down "Y/n, It's getting late. I should head home now. Thank you for dinner, I enjoyed it." and before you know it, Suh Johnny was gone.

Weeks passed by and Johnny was a complete no show. Faint rays of the sun trickled down through your curtains and fell on your room's marbled floor, you look up at your window and were blinded by the light, sitting up, you let your feet hovered on your marbled floors and mentally prepare yourself for the day.

In the office, your instructor asked you to copy some files and you gladly agreed to do it as you don't have much going on for the time being. You thought that it was hard doing your practicum, but all you did at the office was run errands evolving the x-ray machine. Your mind drifted back to Johnny, you'll have to talk to him. Being worried about him is already killing you and the last time you saw him was three weeks ago.

Wednesday came and you sat at your usual spot in the library, studying for the upcoming exams as you patiently wait for the tall black-haired guy. You forced yourself to do some actual studying but for some reason, all you can think about was Suh Johnny who didn't even show up.

The week passed by in a blur and on Thursday you went to your University to take the exam, you were scheduled for the second batch, and instead of your usual schedule of Wednesday, your professor divided your class into two batches.

You weren't even aware that your exams already finished as you were walking to your locker to put away some books.

You understood that Johnny had issues and you hated that you can't do anything to help him. You would do anything for him if that means for the comfort inside him and his peace of mind. You might not know the reason for his depression but everyone has a reason and you know that everybody around you has some issues going on in their private lives. You look around, seeing other students do their thing, minding their own business, some are even bored and waiting for their exams, You saw Jennie and Jongin together looking at you with disgusted faces that you shrugged off.

Johnny saw you as you mindlessly walk your way to the visual room, and he followed behind you silently, as he looks over his ex-girlfriend and ex-best friend. He realized he never really had a connection with Jennie before, they were both just into the sex, and then it gets awkward when they started to talk.

You were already done setting the projector up, walking in the center to lay down when you heard someone entered, and when you saw Johnny at the entrance of the room, his hands on his sweatpants pocket as he gives you a look, you stood up and ran to give him a big hug. You shed tears for him, as you give him a tight hug.

"Why are you crying?" he asked.

"Aren't we friends?" You asked him as you hold him in your arms. "Friends share their pains. So, I'll be here. I just want you to know that I'll be here when you needed someone to be there with you." Johnny fought his tears but who was he kidding? He yearns for someone's affection and not because of who he was but because it was him. And this time, he finally had someone to share his pains with. People already viewed him as someone going on a phase, probably someone rebelling against his parents but Johnny was more than that. He didn't care about it, though. He learned to give less fuck about insignificant people around him.

"My father used to beat me up, Football was just an excuse to cover up these bruises." He admitted. He was disgusted and embarrassed about it. But it was you, and he knows that you're not one to judge someone based off on their appearances.

You shed more tears for him. "Johnny, You don't deserve that, no one deserves that," you say caressing his cheeks. You hated the cheesy statement but you ignore it anyway, what you were feeling at the moment isn't important. Johnny was opening up to you.

The two of you manage to have time off from the university and Practicum. (Johnny started his practicum last, last week, that's why he was MIA most of the time, that time.) Johnny was hanging out at your house, the problem was, your mother and brother are both at work, so you take it to yourself that being alone with him, at your house, is inappropriate. You drag him outside, leading the way to one of your favorite diners.

"I am telling you, you're going to regret that," you said.

"What's wrong with what I ordered?" Johnny did this little thing in his nose, and you take a moment to look at him as you smile at him. You ignore the stares around you, feeling like a sore thumb sticking and obviously, out of place. Johnny scowl at the man who was drunk out of his wits, shamelessly checking you out. This wasn't the first time, this always happened, but not to you though. You told him to ignore it, that man was probably in here to order a cup of coffee.

"Their chicken and waffles here are the best! I'm telling you, I'm not going to share with you."

One pout of his lips towards you and you were switching your plates towards Johnny. You told him, only because this was the first time that he got to try out your favorite dish, and there won't be a second chance in the future. Johnny was kind enough to share a piece of waffle with you. But not the chicken, though. He fell head over heels for it.

Bit by bit, Johnny's walls crumbled down around you, and before you knew it, both of you are inseparable. Johnny dating you spread like wildfire around campus, but there wasn't any truth behind that gossip, you were just a friend. Simple as that.

He was hanging more lately with your brother than you expected. Both of them have the same interest, so it wasn't a surprise when Johnny befriended most of your brother's friends.

Johnny was going on about how Jaehyun's a chill guy, Mark, and Donghyuck introducing him to play games, even Yuta, the University's drug dealer, as they brand him, was included in Taeil's group of friends.

"You didn't tell me that you knew Nakamoto Yuta," Johnny whispered behind you.

"Yeah, For some reason, I didn't want to get involved with most of them. Some girls are crazy about them and I just want peacefulness as I end my college years." You answered. Yuta was from the same department, Jaehyun was from the same university but was taking a different course, as well as Doyounga and Taeyong. Mark and Haechan still need a year before attending college. Ten was studying arts and your brother was a college dropout.

You were having pizza night at your house, your mother was kind enough to accommodate a bunch of men in her tiny house, seemingly impossible to fit 13 men inside, but it did. Instead of the usual party that frat houses and rich kids throw around, Taeil and the others like to keep it to themselves. Sharing one shot glass and downing a cheap rum as everybody waits for their turn. Most of them didn't think that Johnny would be fine with this kind of setup. Besides, he was branded as the campus king and a rich heir at that. He could spend Friday nights at some high-end bar and drink expensive alcohol. But no, instead, here he was, sitting on the cheap carpet your mother owns with a bunch of drunk men but you were glad that your brother is such a nice guy and so are his peers.

Johnny was glad, that he found true people, who accepts him for who he is and not because of who he was.

Doyoung placed you on the empty sofa, you have a low tolerance for alcohol, and you can't keep up with them anymore. The cheapest drink Taeyong bought isn't of cheap quality, you knew better than to judge a bottle chosen by him. You watch them with heavy eyelids, smiling at yourself, Mark and Donghyuck made fun of you by putting thick blankets around you and this was the first time Johnny saw you annoyed by the younger boys.

When Morning came, you were already on your bed as your head pounds. When you came downstairs to leave for school you look around and saw that last night's trace was gone as if 13 grown men didn't make a mess out of your mother's living room.

You wished you had gotten a coffee first when you entered your room way too early and saw that most of the students are yet to arrive, even water would be good, anything liquid down your throat would be good.

You saw Jaehyun and Johnny bidding farewells at the front of the room, students who were present to see the two interacting were shocked, for them, It was rare to see Johnny without his usual crew. But, who are they to decide that for Johnny? It was a rare sight to see, A popular music major and the famous ex-football captain, together?

When Johnny approached his spot beside you, he gives you the cold Iced latte he was holding fresh from Starbucks, completely ignoring unwanted stares behind his back.

"Good Morning," there was a warm aura surrounding him as he settled down beside you, and you look at him in awe. "What?" he asks.

You watched him for a moment, smiling at him as he looks at you questionably. "You're happy," you stated making Johnny pause for a second to think, he was sporting a baby pink hoodie and grey Nike pants, holding his Earpods and Macbook at the other hand. "I think I might be getting there."

Your heart swells up for him and as you fought back the tears that wanted to fall. Johnny reached out to you, wiping the strands of hair that keep falling on your face. "Sorry," you said. People might think that yesterday, Johnny was trying to end his life, and then suddenly, he was okay, because he never was, and you continuously walk on a thin thread around him, Johnny is like a ticking bomb and porcelain that needs to be handled with the utmost care. Five months ago, Johnny doesn't have the motivation to continue living his life, but here he was thriving to know what tomorrow can offer him.

For Johnny, meeting you was his saving grace, problems might fill up in his life, there is this constant reminder that society will always judge him the minute he does something wrong, there is his father, his stepmother who doesn't really pay attention to him, his old life and old self constantly reminding him the pain of the past.

"What happened to your eyes?" there were dark circles under his eyes and for a moment you thought that he has a lot in his mind to think about for the lack of sleep.

"I stayed up till dawn playing overwatch with Donghyuck and Mark last night." He says smiling.

"I'm glad your settling with the boys all right." Johnny watched you, how your long hair flow past your shoulders through your back, he loves the little freckles dancing all over your cheeks naturally and how a touch of pink creeps in your cheeks naturally because of the humid air.

You were really glad. "Do you want to go with me and Ten?" He asks you when your classes ended for the morning, both of you walked to the library to hide from prying and malicious eyes. "He wants to hang out in the nearest coffee shop." he continued and you agreed to go with him, making a turn for the exit.

Johnny ordered an Americano for him and a latte for you, eating the packed lunch your mother made for you and Johnny as you wait for Ten.

Ten arrived with Jaehyun in tow, placing their bags down Jaehyun took the seat beside you while Ten walked to the counter to order their drinks. Johnny looked at you and Jaehyun but ignore the malice running in his head.

"Kim Yerim!" the three of you looked at the entrance to see Johnny's sister entering the cafe, Yerim waved at someone across their table and saw his sister's friend Park Sooyoung waving frantically. Johnny turned to look at you and Jaehyun ignoring his sister who started walking inside, "What happened to you?" he asks Jaehyun,

"Why?"

"You're turning really red." Johnny pointed out and you snickered at Jaehyun who turns to look at Johnny's sister absentmindedly. "Man, That's my sister!" Johnny whispered-shout at him as he fought the urge to laugh at Jaehyun. Someone definitely has a crush on his little sister.

You and Johnny eyed each other, laughing as you both understood telepathically. "What's so funny?" Ten asks when he arrived and the both of you laughed loudly this time.

"Hyung!" Jaehyun shouted at him his ears turning red.

When Johnny got home, he locked himself up in his room that his step-mother finally asked to clean. He was busy waiting for Donghyuck and Mark to play when he heard a knock on his door.

"Can I come in?" His step-mother asked. Yerim's mother is a great person, but that doesn't really mean that she's a good mother to both him and Yerim, he can't really judge her though, she's still young and living her dreams but then his father got her pregnant with Yerim and then here she is stuck at this hell of a household, all three of them under the strings of his father.

"Yes." He says.

Kim Ah-Jong walked inside, placing a warm cup of milk beside him for the first time, "Johnny," She started as he settled at the edge of Johnny's bed facing him. Johnny turns his chair to face her too, holding the warm mug in his hand to seek comfort in this awkward setting.

"I don't know how to start, but I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry," she paused for a second, ignoring the lump in her throat, "I hope you forgive me for replacing your mother's position, and that I'm really grateful because you love your sister more than anything even though you didn't have the same mother."

"It's the least that I could do." He says.

"Yes, I know, and I'm sorry if I failed you as a mother, I was busy finding myself to the point you and Yerim grow up without the right amount of affection from us. We're such horrible parents and I wanted to say sorry on behalf of your father. You don't deserve this, no one else did."

That night, Johnny slept soundly in his own home for the first time in a while.

Yerim was shocked to see her mom attending to his brother, it's as if she suddenly had a change of heart and finally started to be a mother to his brother. Her father was another problem, he still hasn't moved on from his son's attempt. Spitting atrocious words early in the morning making Johnny regret even joining the breakfast.

Kim Ah-jong had enough of his husband's wrath, it was still morning and his husband is starting to get on her nerves. She stabs her bread knife on their table as she turns her head towards him, "Is still early in the morning for the love of God, Kim Ji Hoon. Must you really ruin our morning?" she says.

Both Yerim and Johnny were stunned at her, their father shutting up in instant at the fear her wife would stab her.

Johnny and Yerim drive to the University that day together, "Oh, do you mind if we stop by at my friend's house? I promise to pick him up." Johnny asks and Yerim nodded.

Johnny smirked, he was excited to see Jaehyun's reaction.

Johnny pulled up in front of Jaehyun's apartment, sending him a message the was up in front of his building, after a minute, Jaehyun emerges from the entrance of the building running to get to his car with a tumbler in his other hand.

Johnny pulled the window down and Jaehyun saw Yerim first, he stopped midway, flustered that a girl was with his young, and It was no other than his sister. he played it cool and sat at the back.

"Oh, Yerim-ah, this is Jaehyun. He's my friend."

Jaehyun didn't expect her to turn around and bow her head down. "Thank you so much for taking good care of my brother."

Johnny became flustered with Yerim but laughed it off instead. Jaehyun bowed his head towards her saying it was nothing. Yerim was unaware of the looks she was getting from the older boy sitting at the back seat of his brother's car as Johnny keeps throwing playful glances at the back while he drove them to the school.

Graduation was already nearing, both you and Johnny were already finished with your practicum, Johnny was moving boxes towards his car, for some reason, his father allowed him to have his own flat, his step-mother saying that it would be the best for him and his mental health to have some space between them and that they should give him some time and space. His father was adamant at first but has nothing to do in the end.

"Just let him do what he wants, He's already graduating, with honors! He already did everything you wanted it's the least you could do for him." he heard his step-mother argue a while ago with his father. Johnny still had to go home every Sunday at the main house, though.

You and Taeil volunteered to help him with his moving and he was glad, to say the least. Yerim contacted you to do his groceries for him and the two of you left the older boys as you went to the market with Yerim.

Yerim was a cool young woman, she was matured for her own age, you learned that she was very frank at what she wants and that she loves her brother so much.

"I'm really glad my brother meet you," she says as she links her right arms with you, you were both walking to the parking lot, and you smiled at her blushing.

"Honestly, I never really liked his old friends. Jongin? Nope. Chanyeol? He's an asshole. Everyone in that damn team is an ass except for Sehun," she says as both of you entered the market, pulling a big cart in the process, and continued walking ahead. "You and your brother are surrounded by good people. Do you know that? And I'm kind of jealous of you, not that I don't have good friends, I do."

"Well, consider me someone you can be with so those good people will surround you too," you said smiling, Yerim giggled at you.

It took Johnny a week before really settling down in his apartment, he invited the guys over to have a small welcoming party, drinking and playing till the sun rises.

Johnny was busy typing at his laptop as you were both doing your last requirement for college, papers, and documents were all scattered around his living room when he turns his head to look at you. "Are you comfortable with those jeans?" He asks.

You look at your pants, it is uncomfortable.

"I don't have extra clothes," Johnny poked at his cheeks with his tongue, he stood up and went inside his room, when he came back he was holding clean boxer shorts. "You can use this if you want," he says as he extends his arms to you. You gladly took it and went to his bathroom to change.

Johnny thinks this was more dangerous than when he had blood oozing out of his wrist, you had your toned legs on display for him, and only him. It wasn't helping at all. Without knowing, he stared at your legs for a good minute, the urge of having his hands run along the lines of your thighs was becoming unbearable. He was amazed by the lack of hair you had around your arms and legs, was it liked that too with the parts your clothes have covered? He can't help the wild imaginations running around his head with the things he wants to do to you.

Johnny focused his attention back on the screen of his laptop. What the fuck is he even thinking? It's you, his fucking angel. How dare he have dirty thoughts about you. He mentally slaps himself and went back to typing.

You noticed Johnny having a mental crisis because of you and you silently laugh at him, extending your legs further to have your skin touch his thighs.

after hours of being productive with your work, You and Johnny decided to call it a night.

After a week of preparations for the upcoming finals, you and Johnny decided to meet up, the waiter placed both of your orders in front of you and Johnny, who give the waiter a small smile while uttering a quick "Thank you." You eyed Jhonny's food who looks somewhat more delicious than your Pesto Pasta. You don't even know why you ordered it, you never even tasted it before, you just want to— maybe, impress the guy in front of your table who were giving you obvious looks about the taste pallet you had which is definitely of a 13 Years old.

Johnny gives you a look while shaking his head, knowing all too well that you wanted a bite of it. Looking at you who's eyeing his barbeque bacon burger with fries on the side— It's usually what the two of you order and he was shocked that you ordered something out of the ordinary. He knew that you weren't the type of girl to go out of your comfort zone. You like what you usually eat, what you usually drink, and what type of clothing you usually wear. You are a very simple, young woman. You don't usually try things out of the blue, especially, when the two of you are both hungry.

Instantly, Johnny switched both plates. Giving you his food whilst saying a silent goodbye to the famous BBQ burger that he craves so much after winning a football game, which, he deserves. "What are you doing?" you asked shocked. You already saw him digging in and wincing at the taste. "Why the fuck would you even order this thing?" he asked.

You looked at the guy at the other table. You both were giving silent glances, he's good-looking and obviously from another school but you don't do other schools, that is the thing, you'd rather date someone from the same school, same department or same village. You don't like the hassle. People can go ahead and say your such a basic bitch, which in fact, you are. You finally give your full attention to Johnny who looks at his back to find some guy obviously ogling your face. That was the scariest thing in the world for him, guys ogling your face rather than your body, honestly, it was obvious from guys falling for your body— they just want to get in your pants, but guys who fall for your beauty is different.

You start digging in with your food. "This is the reason why I love you so much." You stated giving your burger a bite.

"Why would you even want to eat this." He says. You give him a chuckle as you extend your right arm towards him, offering him a bite of your burger, which he gladly took. "I'm sorry, I'm such a pain in the ass." You said.

"I kidnapped you in your after party and I'm so sorry, I didn't know Jennie's going to be there, and now you're eating something you don't even like. Man, you don't deserve this." You continued. Sincerely saying sorry towards him— picking a fry and dipping it on the ketchup provided at the side of your plate.

For some reason, Things work out for him and the team, It was going to be his last year playing, and the higher-ups decided for him to lead the team again, making Jongin lose face around the campus. It wasn't like before, It was expected, Johnny was just professional around them, leading them at the court and out of sight, after.

"What? No way. This is what I deserve. A peaceful dinner and finally having time with you." He says after biting at the toasted bread the pasta has. It was true though, Johnny was talking with Jennie again, well, but not exactly dating her, as students would say around campus. They dated, but that was that, he can't even imagine being good friends with someone who cheated on him, he was just being civil with her, ending things with a good note and leaving the better past behind him, and you haven't really had the chance to hang out together since their coach intensified their training hours and days, and right after that Johnny would hang out with your brother and the other guys.

"What did my brother say, though? with you being with me tonight? You guys are basically dating each other by now," you joked.

"Yeah, he's cool with it. Don't worry, I told him about our meeting before you actually kidnapped me." He gives you a smirk and you give him a confused look. "I was actually going to ask you for a dinner with me after the game." You rolled your eyes at him.

"Wow." You commented. You were practically like a twin at this rate. "Can I ask you something, though?" Johnny didn't know whether to ask because he was curious or just wait for you to open up to him, for some reason, Johnny felt naked around you. You knew everything about him, you have him wrapped around your pretty little fingers "What if I don't want to?" You countered and he scoffed.

"What was the reason you transferred? you only had a year to finish before graduating," Your face fell and he instantly saw how your face contorted into a frown. "Why are you making that face?" he asked.

"I had a bad break up to the point that I was destroying myself." You finally said like it was nothing. Johnny stopped everything that he's doing, giving you a look as if asking why. He felt like an idiot. How can he? at your worst time? "I'm such a horrible friend." He says.

"It's not your fault, and I'm even sorry that I didn't tell you sooner." You said quietly. Suddenly your favorite dish from the dinner doesn't look appealing anymore. "And I wanted time for myself, you know, he cheated on me."

the clicking of utensils can be heard throughout the diner when he dropped them to the table. He was fuming mad.

"It wasn't anyone's fault, though. if anything. It was mine. I lost interest in our relationship, didn't have time for him, and just lost everything along the way." You said while moving your plate towards him which he gladly took, abandoning the pasta you ordered and eating the half of the burger you had. But the real reason was, you can't stop comparing your ex-boyfriend to him.

"Still isn't a reason to cheat on you." He says after taking a bite. You move your lemonade in front of you and lazily sip on it. He drops the topic knowing all too well that you don't want to talk about it. Still, he felt guilty for some reason, What could go wrong?

Right, Johnny Suh is starting to have feelings for you, and definitely not in a platonic way.

And you don't have any idea about it.

He opened your bag that was beside him and fetch the wet wipes that were inside. He opened it and out of habit cleaned your fingers with it. And you let him, smiling. "I wished I meet you sooner," He looked at you and smiled. "I'm really sorry I haven't been with you for the last 21 years." you joked as you let him dry your fingers with a dry napkin that the diner provides.

You were about to head out— fetching the car keys that you placed on the bowl beside the main door when you hear a familiar honk outside your house. Your hands slip past your keys and you walk the small distance to your door, opening it the cold air of December heats your face and Johnny greeted you with his usual beam on his face, his left hand stretched up outside his window, giving you a wave.

You smiled to yourself, biding your mom a quick goodbye and you were off to school with your best friend.

"Good Morning." He greeted you when you opened the door of his black Audi.

"Good Morning, indeed." You said facing him after securing yourself with the seat belt. There was a tint of pink in Johnny's checks that you choose to ignore.

Pulling up at the parking lot in front of the university's main building where a lot of students lingered chatting with their circle of friends— Johnny smoothly maneuvered and parked at his usual spot.

You both get out of his car and started to walk to the building.

"See you at lunch?" he asked when you neared your classroom— you were slightly shocked. "Won't you be eating with Yerim today?" you asked as you stopped in your tracks facing him. "Doesn't have to." He simply replied and you nod your head. "She'll be mad, John." You said as a matter of fact— facing him while slowly backing away as he marly give you a shrug. "She doesn't have the right, though." you rolled your eyes at him "Just ask her to eat with us!"

Graduation was nearing and you've been offered a job at one of the top companies in the city, you didn't have the reason to turn them down so you accept and were set to sign the contract right after having your diploma.

This calls for a celebration, though.

When Johnny heard that he was the first one to know about something significant in his life, he was delighted.

You found yourself getting tipsy with the cheap booze in front of you and Johnny. You were laughing at something he said about his sister, holding the cheap beer in your hand as you chug the contents down your through. "Okay, That's enough," Johnny said whilst grabbing the cans of beer and putting them back at his refrigerator. You pout back at him but don't argue, you still have to attend your classes tomorrow morning and you don't want to miss anything for the last weeks you have for being a college student.

Johnny tucked you in his bed and you bid the sweetest goodnight on him, he leaves a sweet kiss on your forehead before heading for the couch in the living room to sleep on, since he had no energy to actually drive you home.

You woke up that night, feeling rather hot, unconsciously stripping out of your pants and bra out of habit, you walked to the kitchen for some water.

Walking with blurred vision, you find your way into the kitchen. The lights were dim as you passed by the living room completely ignoring the fact that Johnny could definitely walk on you wearing only your white tee and undies.

You helped yourself around the kitchen, rummaging in the refrigerator for a jar of water, your hands felt the cold lid of the jar, popping it open and chugging the contents down. You giggled after realizing that you should probably use glass and act like a lady for once since you're not in your own place.

You hissed as you struggle, reaching for a glass in the cupboard. "Just why is it placed so fucking high?" you asked yourself. A hand reached for the glass and you turned around, shocked and ready to pounce the person behind you.

you came face to face with Johnny. His face, only inches away from you. His hands find their way to your waist as he looked at you and the glass in his hands, he purred his self some water in the glass and chugged the whole content down.

"I got thirsty," he said. You moved beside so you don't disturb him, stepping at least five steps away.

He looked you up and down, the smell of booze around, is strong, it almost made you gag. Feeling the cold air between your legs, you looked at yourself. "Fuck." realizing that you were only wearing your white t-shirt; that you probably owned since 7th grade— Your breast was obvious that even your nipples were prominent, your shirt just hanging before your hip bone and then your undies.

You mentally slap yourself. He put the glass down and you put your hair in front to at least cover your hardening nipples away from him. Chills run down your spine as he took another step forward, clearing the distance between you.

"Hey-" he cut you off.

"Johnny," he says.

"What?" you asked, barely whispering. Your eyes moved down on their own, from his eyes down to his upper body, he was shirtless, giving you free access to his perfectly sculpted body, his pelvis, so sharp even a God couldn't compare. Again, you felt the burning sensation coming back in your throat. You touched your neck instantly as you tried to swallow.

"My name, say it," he whispered, you looked up only to be met by his eyes, dark with unknown lust as if burning you within. He keeps staring at you, keeping you captive with his eyes that you somehow felt naked.

"Johnny," you whispered trying not to sound like your practically moaning his name. He took a step forward, leaving no space between you and him. "Again." He commands you. You sucked a deep breath as you avoid eye contact.

"Johnny."

He used his index finger to lift your head as his thumb drew circles just below your chin to the base of your neck. blood rushed to your face as you suddenly felt hot on your cheeks as he put his hands on your waist again. He tilts his head, the smell of alcohol mixed with his aftershave and mint filled your senses, suddenly it wasn't too dark anymore.

He brushes his lower lip against yours that you barely felt it. He licked his lower lip as you bite yours. He stares intently at you. "You know, I would appreciate it if you don't walk around the house in these." his hands hot on your skin.

all rationality seems to fly out of the window, both of you staring at each other gazes, Johnny pulling you in for a much deeper kiss. "Didn't know you were this naughty with alcohol in your system," he murmured, Johnny's soft languid kisses were driving you wild, he moves at the base of your neck and sucked at the soft skin before pressing light kisses.

"Do you have any idea how much I want you?" he says softly, your breath hitches without knowing and you deliciously clenched around nothing upon hearing his statement, you were hypnotized by his eyes. Leaning down, he kisses you again.

You put your hands around his chest to push him slightly, gazing up toward him, "I want this," you whispered. "No. Not in the morning when you're sober enough to regret this," Johnny says, you ignore him and pulled him down to kiss him again, and Johnny lost all his logic with how delicious you tasted, you guide his hands on the hem of your shirt and slowly he peels it off for you and lets it fall down the floor.

Johnny put his arms around you and hauls you against his body, squeezing you tightly, his hands traveled down your waist and down to your behind, he holds you against his hips, and you feel his erection, which he gladly pushes into you, easily lifting you from the floor after, you moan once more in his mouth, He eases you towards the bed and you feel your back against the soft cushion once more.

Tentatively, you move your hands up to his face and his hair, tugging at it lightly as if implying for him to take you fully. But Johnny has other plans in his mind. He grabs your hips with both his hands and runs his tongue around your navel, gently nipping his way to your hipbone and across your belly to the other.  "Ah," You groan.

Seeing him on top of you, between your legs as you feel his hot breath against your skin, Is unexpected, but you wanted this as much as he wants it. Your hand on his hair, pulling gently as you try to quiet your loud breathing. He gazes up at you through impossibly long-lashed, and chocolate-colored eyes. His hand reaches the hem of your black underwear, leisurely pulling it down without taking his eyes off you, he stops and licks his lips, never breaking eye contact. Johnny leans forward, running his nose up the apex between your thighs, and you feel him.

"You smell so fucking good," he murmurs and closes his eyes. a look of pure pleasure on his face and you practically convulse.

You raise yourself on your elbows to see what he's doing, you were panting, you wanted him right there. shit

Moaning, you felt him run his tongue on the sleek of your heat, "Keep still," he murmurs and then leans down again to kiss down your clit. "How can I not move? you're making me feel this good." you felt him smirk against your skin. "Then, we'll have to work on keeping you still." there was a dangerous tone laced in his voice and you find it impossibly hot and twisted. You're flushed, skin burning, too hot, too cold, and you're craving more as you clawed at the sheets beneath you.

Johnny moves forward and you protested but the pleasure came back once more when he blows very gently on one of yours mound, his hands moving to the other breast, and his thumb slowly rolls the end of your nipple, elongating it. You moan, feeling the sweet sensation all the way to your groin.

"Johnny," you were wet, "Please," you beg silently as your fingers clasp the sheet tighter. His lips close around your nipple and he tugs, making you convulse. He doesn't stop.

Johnny moves his fingers around your clit, drawing circles as he laps on your mound,  you let yourself go from his touch. His thumb and finger continue doing you deliciously and you fall apart on his hands.

"Oh," you won't lie, that felt extraordinary, and now, you know the fuss around him is about. He gazes down at you, a satisfied smirk on his face and you're still in owe from your high.

Johnny was amazed at how responsive you are, he laced his fingers around you, drawing slow and lazy circles around your clit again, bringing another set of heat in your core. He closes his eyes briefly, his breathing hitches. You're deliciously wet and Johnny doesn't want to fuck you with a condom on, and neither did you.

He reaches over the bedside table, anyway, grabbing a foil packet, and then moving out of the bed to discard the rest of his clothes. You saw him, and your mouth watered at how long and thick he is. He kneels on the bed and pulls the condom onto his length. "I really don't want to use one."

"Is that going to fit in?"

"Don't worry," He breathes,  "You're wet enough, Angel. I know you can make me well," He murmurs as he positions the head of his erection at the entrance of your sex and pushing hard.

"Aargh!" You cry as you felt him sliding in, there was a weird sensation pinching deep inside you as he rips through you without warning. Johnny stills, his eyes bright with ecstatic triumph. His mouth opened slightly, his breathing harsh. He groans wanting to move.

"Fuck, baby, so tight."

"Johnny, Wait."

He stills for a moment, "Why?" You held onto his forearms, fucking him with a condom doesn't feel right, you wanted every little part of him, you wanted to feel him. Raw. "I- Can we remove the condom?" Johnny asks as if reading your mind.

You nod at him, You felt him slide out of you, removing the condom and throwing it at the trash bin beside his bed. Johnny positions his self once more, easing on to you, groaning. He loved every bit of it, this was the first time that you had sex without using protection, and the same thing goes for Johnny. Moving your hips up to him, as a sign that you wanted him to move already. He groans. You felt so full, as he let you acclimatize at the overwhelming feeling of him inside you. Naked, and Raw.

He eases back with exquisite slowness. Closing his eyes, Johnny controlled himself not on to fuck you hard, He thrust into you again, and you cry out in pleasure. He shifts into his elbow, and you feel his weight on you, holding you down. He moves painfully slow at first, easing himself in and out of you. You grew impatient and you can't help but move your hips up tentatively to meet his. He speeds up. Pounding on you, picking up speed by the second, merciless and in a relentless rhythm.

you can't help yourself to meet his thrust, making Johnny lose his mind because of you. Your body quivers. a sheen of sweat gathers over you. Your thoughts are scattered. There's only the feeling of him, of you, and him, and you stiffen.

"Come for me, baby," he whispers breathlessly, and you unravel at his words, exploding around him as you climax and shard into pieces with every being you had underneath him. And as he comes inside you, calling your name, thrusting hard, the stalling as he empties himself into you.

Johnny's breathing was ragged as you try to slow your breathing, your heart thumping hard and your thoughts in a disarray, you opened your eyes. His eyes flickered open and gaze down at you, dark but soft. He's still inside you, leaning down, he gently presses a kiss against your forehead then slowly pulls out of you.

Johnny cleaned you up and spoon you to sleep, he hoped that in the morning you won't regret what happened. Because he loved every moment of it.

--

Part 2? I didn't put the taglist because this is already reposted. so, yeah, hope u guys enjoyed! let me know what you think, I feel like i sucked making this.

[katsukikitten]

Warnings College AU sexual and adult themes. Yall know the drill okay

Chapter 2

Bugzapper⚡💔: i have a proposition to make. 

Jiro flashes Mina her phone as she sips iced coffee in the blessed air conditioning of the cafe.

"That's never a good sign." She comments, moon bright eyes glued to the phone as she thinks. 

"What's not a good sign?" Uraraka asks from across the table, the two girls fill her in. 

"Oh." She racks her brain on what that could be, "Okay well I'm dying to know, now." 

🎵Music to my soul 🎶 : What do you want airhead? 

Jiro's text sent a surge of excitement through Kaminari. It was exactly what he needed after three hours of begging and bribing Bakugou to allow the sorority in or at least invite them. His fingers fly across the screen setting up a date and time for a "meeting over lunch" to discuss the proposition in further detail.  

Meanwhile across campus, you huff, eyes narrowed as a rare emotion is pulled from your fingertips in the form of deadly ice. Pulling the moisture from the air to freeze it or pulling any water towards you to keep your flank safe as your opponent rushes you at breakneck speeds. 

You hated this fucking guy, cocky, brash, so God damn arrogant in the way he held himself, in the way he spoke. It made you nauseous just thinking of him.Had you known he was the male star of this university you wouldn't have transferred, yet you still needed to transfer didn't you? Anything to get out from under the shadow of a certain Todoroki. 

No one cared to admit or to notice, that your quirk was different from Shoto's. You could manipulate water towards you to freeze, and manipulate whatever was already frozen. Your ice was denser and more durable than his and dare you say it colder than his too. Yet no one gave a shit, his was ice AND fire. You were just a one trick pony and a trick they already saw. Your opponent's taunting doesn't help matters much.

"I've already seen this before Ice Brat. Did ya forget where I fucking went to high school?" His hand heats the ice as he activates his quirk before three deafening blasts ring out. 

As you allow him to break down the ice you act on pure rage, securing some revenge from the first time he signed your hair. Pointed icicles lie in wait and once the wall is fully down you give him a nasty smirk before sending the straight his way. 

You're supposed to melt your weapons before they hit your opponent, neither of you are supposed to go all out per the professor's and college's strict rules in the athletics department but Bakugou always does. Somehow his big stupid mouth spews something that eggs you on. As if someone were shoving bamboo skewers beneath your skin, under your nails, sending you into an unheard of rage. 

Normally you were as your quirk, icy, unbothered by the world but Bakugou, God you could wring his neck. Freeze his hot blood as you watch him turn into slush beneath your feet. 

He expects you to abide by the rules, to splash him with glacier water but he realizes it too late. That you won't he let's off a quick blast, shattering two of the four deadly points. One grazes his cheek as he just barely dodges while the other lodges itself into his arm. 

You have half a mind to twist it. You pull at his blood bringing it into your arsenal. Blood red needles and bullets surround Bakugou. 

"I don't think you've seen this before.." You say darkly ready to release your hold and shred him into, give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe he would see how bitter and nauseating he was. He smirks, opening his mouth to retort but you send your ice his way aiming for non vital spots although the ice creeps closer to your heart begging it to hit something vital. The inside of your ice palace begins to reek of burning sugar and spice, he plans to let out an explosion to bring this whole place down from the inside out. 

Just as he is about to detonate and just as the blood and ice are about to pierce skin the professor bursts into the gym.  

"I step out for five minutes and this is what happens?!"

The ice and blood return to liquid splashing across Bakugou as his skin pops. The professor takes in the damage from your ice and his explosions, still better controlled than most of his other students quirks. 

"I gotta stop pairing these two together." He murmurs to himself before dismissing class. With a flick of your wrist the ice fortress melts, returning to the reservoir below the gym floor, ignoring the molten glare that is sent your way.

"You're such a bitch." Bakugou growls as you pass, flinging blood from his fingers as he wipes at his face. You offer him a fake pitying smile before heading into the women's locker room. 

"Fucking asshole." You hiss, forcing the sight of his garnet gaze out of your mind. Instead turning your attention to your buzzing phone in your locker. It's a few missed calls and some texts in the girl's group chat. Briefly you wonder if you ever should have joined that stupid sorority, it was small, non toxic, and would look good should you need to transfer again. 

Not only did you somehow get elected the president but you also became friends with the three other ladies despite your best efforts not too. 

Mins: Prez we might have a way to save the sorority...lunch after you're done with training? 

IceQueen ❄: Hope it's good, the Dean already put the house up for sale. Let me get ready and I'll be there shortly. 

Mina presents her phone to the crowd around her, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Jiro and Uraraka do a small celebration. Denki more so than anyone else, he knows the combined car washes will be more than enough to fix up the house, he also recently learned that you had the power of negotiation on your side. Having just listened to Mina retell the story of how you got free food for a month from a bar for yourself and your friends. And not from some sleaze who wanted to sleep with you either, no it was from the owner himself. 

Denki is hopeful and so are the ladies indicating that this may be his best idea yet. 

You arrive at the small bistro early, spying your party on the front patio. The three men had seen you in person before, they knew you were easy on the eyes but up close you were breathtaking. Manicured nails but nothing gaudy, normally nude or soft shades, light makeup, mascara at most as far as they could tell and your outfit was well put together. You were what the world called plus size but everyone else called thiccc. Your confidence oozing in your light blouse tucked into your black skinny jeans, uncaring that you had a pouch. 

You needed that extra fat to keep from freezing by your own quirk. The only thing you needed society to worry about was your intelligence and your power. 

Both were SSR ranked so what did you fucking care that your body was ranked lower. They were stupid in thinking you'd skimp power in the name of vanity. 

You recognize everyone at the table and internalize the dread you're feeling. Scheming is afoot and you're the last to arrive. You can tell by their half finished drinks and picked over appetizer, still you sit and act unaware. Denki goes to hold out his hand first for a formal introduction causing a sly cat smile to settle over your glossy lips. 

"No need, I'm aware of who the three of you are. Sero we share our lingual class, Denki, our chemistry class, and Kirishima we share two classes, world studies and villain hero theory. Truly a pleasure." You tell then your name before ordering something to drink from the lingering waitress. Sitting stick straight with your shoulders backs has the men mirroring you. 

"Well ladies I take it the plan to save the sorority involves these fine gentlemen." You ask coolly and they nod. After a moment of silence Mina and Denki go to speak. Awkwardly encouraging the other to speak until Minai clears her throat. 

"As you know they are a newly formed frat with Sero as their president. They moved into their house about a month ago and they say it is quite large. So they have invited us to move in." 

"How do you propose we ask the college to have a co-ed house? What does this fraternity home even look like?" They knew you would be quick to ask questions Mina answers the first while Denki provides the answer to the second. 

"Union and Diversity. Forming close relationships now to carry over into our hero careers." 

"The house needs some work but looks a lot better than what it did." Denki shows you before and after pictures as you gesture for his phone. He passes you his electric yellow case with nervous hope tingling beneath his skin. You swipe through the photos. 

"You boys did a great job on the outside. Inside needs a lot of work. Hardwoods will be easy to fix, they are original but don't seen to be damaged, a good scrub will spruce them up. Wait, are those?" You zoom in on the photo of the living room, "Are those foldable camping chairs and a VHS tv?" 

They gulp loudly as they nod, your purse your lips in disapproval. 

"I can fix that." You pass Denki back his phone, assuming that all the roommates will be present, "I see the main focus was the kitchen but some of the appliances seem to be on their last legs. I can fix that as well." 

"Soooo….So it's a yes?" Jiro asks, feeling relief for the first time in months since they received the letter of eviction. 

"Gotta get the college to agree first." You think on it a moment, "But I'm sure we can arrange that. Uraraka can you draft an email to the Dean requesting an official meeting regarding our sorority? Be sure to explain in detail our situation, how we are being forced to disband by their account and the solution we have. Make sure it's an afternoon meeting too. The dean hates to miss golf with our rival university's dean." 

With the plan set in motion all of you return to your evening classes. Jiro nudges Denki in the ribs, listening to his heart race from their closeness. 

"When are we going to tell her about Bakugou?" She throws her almost lover a look that he seems to wither beneath. His jaw tics before he retorts. 

"I think we should wait to see if this even works first." 

After a week the important meeting arrives and as you thought the Dean is already exhibiting signs of impatience. He is more than ready to wrap this up and you already know his answer is going to be no. Already trying to get it out before the four of you can even have a seat. 

Still you weren't the Ice Queen on campus for nothing. You saunter into the room, mineola folder filled with your copies of counterpoints pressed firmly to your chest, you can already see he doesn't have the copies you sent him. You place the folder down and open it, leafing through the pages as you speak. 

"This request is going to be approved and here are the reasons why. An example of sexism could be made that a new fraternity was approved housing, new housing, after a decades old sorority was deemed "too small" both parties are similar in count. Second funding and donations are easily influenced with letters to alumni and especially by attendees to this university. My transfer from YAU has brought in revenue of roughly 2.6 million dollars, increasing your diversity for women when this is normally a male dominated school. I am aware that my transfer had even encouraged other students from YAU to transfer here. Which I'm sure is one of your favorite bragging points to tell Dean Fraunk during your weekly golf trips isn't it? So it would truly be a shame if these points would come to light in the investigation of my return to YUA just months before the university sports festival. I do look amazing in Ice Blue you know. Matches my quirk a lot better than Maroon." You put the ball in his court, he is visibly upset, eyes flying to the facts that you've presented. All important, viable facts. You were right MMU was known to be a male dominated school and the media would have a field day if they uncovered a mistake he happened to look over. Not to mention you were his main bragging point, Dean Yuzi always talked about how he had stolen you, the female star of rising heroes, from YUA.  The silence in the room is amplified by the ticking of the clock, seconds accumulating into minutes as it counts down his T time with his old college buddy and rival. He gulps nervously, knowing what he has to do in order to keep both his bragging rights and a law suit under wraps. He looks up to you as you wear your stone cold face, making him think of a loan shark who hasn't been getting their payments on time. He is fearful for your future boss.  

"I believe I have no choice but to approve." 

"Correct." You respond, "Now we have a bit more to discuss. I noticed that classrooms 456 and 215 are being remodeled. Those gently used flat screens will be given to our house since it is technically college property. Common space 3 and 1 are being renovated in dorms A and B. We will accept the leather arm chairs as they are in good shape but we demand a new couch. I know it is in the budget as I help plan the budget. I also believe it is time for an allowance for our hybrid house." The Dean shrinks away from your tenacity, nodding as that is all he can do.  

"Well this is a generous offer and should cover most of the basic necessities such as a new fridge and mattress. The aesthetic we will be raising funds for. Kindly spread the word, we don't want to take up more of your time and be late with your 'meeting' with Dean Fraunk." You place a flyer on his desk as you turn on your heel. The rest of the sorority, mouth agape following suit. Yuzi looks down at the flyer, head hung in a mixture of disbelief and shame as he reads over the neon paper advertising a co-ed car wash. 

He just hopes you and Bakugou are worth the trouble. 

[lilacandladybugs]

hey since youre talking about christianity, i was wondering if you could answer a question ive been curious about. if god cares about people and if jesus died for our sins, then why does hell exist? and if god cares about us then why did he let so much bad stuff happened in his name, and even cause it, like with the noah’s arch story?

sorry if any of this is wrong ive never read the bible, but ive had bad experiences with christianity in the past and the way you talk about it seems much nicer than the way i know it

I don’t think I can answer this question in a way that doesn’t come across as pretentious or like I’m asking for an argument or just being straight up unsatisfying. But I just am going to try anyway because i'm hoping that maybe this will be comforting or helpful to someone. I’m sorry if this is offensive I am really trying my best, please take this all in the best possible way and be gracious with me 

The thing about this ask is that it’s actually a bunch of different questions, and since each of them individually is really hard to answer so I’m going to narrow it down to just one ( im sorry ;-; ) . The one I’ve thought about the most is “Why does God let bad things happen if he loves us?”

When this question first really occurred to me, I was already a believer. So I was already pretty convinced that God exists logically, from the perspective of history, philosophy, science, and my personal experience. I believed in the /existence/ of the God who is represented in the scriptures. (I doubt anyone wants it but I can give you a list of resources if you want to look into any of that.) The struggle for me was whether or not all that evidence held true in the face of this moral dilemma; the problem of evil in the presence of a loving God.

But I just couldn’t turn my back on the concept of a moral grounding in God. I had a philosophy professor tell me that people are mortal and so we shouldn’t grieve them like they’re immortal, that grief is a choice, and that trauma is a choice. I respected her so much, but I just couldn’t accept that. There’s nothing more unsettling to me than suggesting that cruelty and death and suffering are only wrong because you think they are, and not because they’re violating sacred ancient laws. My friends dying, people hurting me, that isn’t just in my head. It’s /real/. They’re really dead, and it really matters. People really did something wrong when they hurt me, and it isn’t my fault for being hurt. It’s their fault for being cruel. And their cruelty is objectively morally wrong.

I realized that if I became an atheist I would have to accept the fact that there isn’t /objectively/ any difference between right and wrong. There isn’t any theoretical “right way” that the world should be. But to me, there is a right way it should be. There is a right way and it was lost because of sin.

It was I guess comforting that Christianity provided the premises I needed to ask a question like this. Evil exists. And love exists. So how can God exist? What a comforting question, in a way. To get to grieve, to be angry, to wonder what’s going on, to want things to be different. It was validating i guess

Don’t get me wrong i was FURIOUS i was so angry. I was so angry and so conflicted I kind of thought I might just like rip apart at my seams but I just felt caught between a rock and a hard place to be either abandoned by God or to not even be able to think about my experiences in a way that felt coherent.

He showed up though. I remember swearing at him, and laying up at night thinking he wasn’t there, I told him I wouldn’t have to have trauma if he would’ve stepped in, that my friends wouldn’t be dead, that he let it happen to me, that he just /witnessed/ it. And man idk he just showed up. He showed up every time. I almost walked away like five times that summer. And every time he sent someone, there was always someone that showed up and talked to me like out of nowhere. Or music, or scripture, or something someone said in passing. 

The night that it was really bad was when I realized that the only person who could save me was God and I cried out to him, and I just idk I’ve never been so desperate. I went to church the next day against my will and the sermon felt like it was written for me specifically. I cried through the whole thing.

If God is goodness, then how can I say he isn’t with me and around me constantly? In the sunrise and sunset, in the stars, in flowers, and in kind words. In sermons. In friends and family. In all the coincidences that stopped me from becoming an atheist, all of the answered prayers and the impossibilities. That’s why my side blog is called @in-the-whisper. Because I felt him there, even though it hurt, he was with me in the quiet and in the silence, in his whisper in a thousand different ways.

I was posed this question by someone who was there for me in one of those moments where I almost walked away from God, “Is sufficiency abundant?” I guess I thought it was. Where was God? In the peace that surpasses understanding. In the knowledge that everything is finished, that he died for us, that he didn’t abandon us. That whatever terrible things happen, he was willing to take all of the consequences for that onto himself in the person of Jesus. That one day he will set things right, even though it isn’t right right now. 

It comes down to the Gospel (good news, core story of the Christian faith); humanity actively chose to walk away from God in an act of rebellion. We had free will because God created us tenderly to be in a loving relationship with him, and loving relationships must be based on free will and they must be two way. So he let us walk away from him, and away from the sustainer of life our bodies break, our world crumbles, and we die. In order to bridge that gap, he chose to die in our place, so that we could re enter that free will relationship with him if we so choose. He died on the cross, descended into hell, and then in three days he rose from the grave, defeating death. And one day he will return on a white horse to rescue us and to take the world back as his own. If I believed that to be true, then I believed in the greatest intervention in human history that has ever occurred. The God of the Bible isn’t a distant God, "God showed how much he loved us by sending his one and only Son into the world so that we might have eternal life through him." 1 John 4:9 He did the unthinkable for us.

Living in light of the gospel helped me to understand the way that God is present in my life, my present, past, and in my future. It gave me peace. When Horatio G. Spafford’s two daughters and wife died in a shipwreck, he wrote this,

“When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll, whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul." 

“Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, let this blest assurance control: that Christ has regarded my helpless estate and has shed His own blood for my soul.

“My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought. My sin, not in part, but the whole, is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

“And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight The clouds be rolled back as a scroll The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend Even so, it is well with my soul!

“It is well with my soul, it is well, it is well with my soul.”

I don’t have an answer for your question. What I know is that I am willing to rest in the knowledge of my personal experiences and my research that God exists, that he is loving, and that he is powerful, just, and wise. Even the winds and the seas obey him, the mountains are like pebbles to him, thunder rolls at the sound of his voice. He had thought before time began, he gave all knowledge and all wisdom to us. 

Why do bad things happen also brings up the question, why do good things happen? Who do we have to thank when we get up in the morning and can see or hear or move or are alive in general? Why are we so blessed as to have two days and not just one? Where do mornings and complexity and beauty and wonder come from? They come from him. Not because we need it, but because he wants to give it to us. Enjoyment, existence, love, laughter, thought, beauty, heartbreak. The world is just as beautiful as it is terrible, and why should it be beautiful? Because he wants it to be that way.

God is so patient. He is so patient and kind and powerful, and he wants to hear your questions. Some of them, like this one, are in my opinion something that you have to talk to him about directly. He gives us thought and logic and reason and wisdom, and he asks for us to engage him. He will answer.

If any believers are reading this, I want you to know that it is enough to cry out to him in pain. It is enough to want to want to believe in him. He would so much rather hear from you in your anger than never hear from you at all. Seek him out, he will find you. He will chase after you.

I bet that he would chase after me, bet my life on it. I might not know the answer, but I am confident enough in what I do know that I’m willing to bet my existence that God will come true on his promises, that he will deliver me, that everything will be okay, that he is bigger than my trauma, and that he will hold me.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,     neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. 9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,     so are my ways higher than your ways     and my thoughts than your thoughts. 10 As the rain and the snow     come down from heaven, and do not return to it     without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish,     so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, 11 so is my word that goes out from my mouth:     It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire     and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. 12 You will go out in joy     and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills     will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field     will clap their hands. 13 Instead of the thornbush will grow the juniper,     and instead of briers the myrtle will grow. This will be for the Lord’s renown,     for an everlasting sign,     that will endure forever.” Isaiah 55:8-13

And I’m holding him to that promise.

[nerdygaymormon]

Hi, I was wondering is you have any advice on being a member of the church and being gay.

This is a wide-open question. If you were meeting with me in person, we could talk about this for hours. I can’t write everything I’d like to say, but I hope what I share is useful.

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A person’s sexual orientation is how they experience the world. It’s how you love and how you connect with people. God doesn’t love you despite being gay, God loves you because you are YOU. God knows this about you, He made you. You are gay and you are known & loved by God and He is rooting for you. I hope knowing this will help you get through some of the tough moments of life.

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It’s easy to focus on the negative. There are also positive things, remember those. 

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Studies show that, on average, LGBT people are creative, have higher IQ’s and higher emotional intelligence (better at social relationships), have more compassion and are more cooperative and have less hostility. Does any of that sound like you?

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The church doesn’t yet have the answers for LGBTQ+ people. The current policies, teachings & restrictions were created at a time when they believed people were made gay because of circumstances in their life and could change to be straight.  

Disregard any pamphlet or talks or advice from the Church on LGBTQ topics that is more than a few years old. The church leaders are slowly evolving and you don’t need to go back to less enlightened days and read the advice made when their understanding was even more behind than it is today

—————————

One day the church will need to rethink the place of queer people in the Plan of Happiness (currently we are absent). As we are unable to complete the highest goals in our church, you have to figure out what a successful life looks like to you.

In Mormonism we’re so accustomed to “knowing,” but the truth is there is no clear path forward for queer Mormons. It can feel wobbly and scary to not be on sure footing, but you have an opportunity to work out with God what your path forward is. When something feels right, trust that and move forward. 

Our pathway is less traveled and not well marked, we will trip and stumble, but we look out for each other.

—————————

Work on becoming more Christlike. Think about what is God doing in the world today and join that work. 

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The Atonement of Jesus Christ means He can heal your heart and strengthen you in the hard times. 

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God doesn’t wait until we are perfectly ready and up for the challenge, we all have to go out and do our best as we are, learn along the way, adjust and try again. We all make mistakes and it’s okay to start over and try again. It is never too late, too dark or too hopeless. 

————————— 

Be patient with your progress. You don’t have to understand everything now.

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Get LGBTQ friends. It’s especially helpful if they’re also LDS because they’ll get you in a way no one else will. Online friends count. If you’re in school, perhaps they have a Gay-Straight Alliance. If you’re at a church university, seek out USGA. When I hang out with queer people I feel normal. It’s nice to step out of the heteronormative world which is always saying I don’t fit.

—————————

Allow people to grow and change. Forgive and try not to carry around all the hurtful things.

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Seek therapy when you feel things getting hard. A lot of universities include psychological counseling in your tuition & fees; you can also be referred to LDS Family Services by your bishop, which is covered by some insurance plans. Another option is to check your insurance and find the mental health professionals in your area that are covered. Try contacting the psychology dept at a local university, perhaps they offer some counseling services to non-students. 

LGBTQ Mormons face much higher rates of mental illness than the average person, there’s no shame in getting help even when you’re not desperate or suicidal.

Studies show being active in church makes us more likely to have higher rates of depression, internalized homophobia and sexual identity crisis. We also have lower self-esteem and a lower quality of life. Most have the symptoms of PTSD and higher rates of suicidality. 

Be aware of these and be proactive in seeking help. 

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It is always okay to take a break from church to improve your mental health or if it feels hard. You can always step outside if people say hurtful things (even if they don’t realize how it sounds to you). You’re also welcome to go back whenever you choose.

—————————

When I hear something at church that troubles me. I ask these three questions:

Does that sound like me, do I resemble that remark? (when they’re talking about gay people)

Is this consistent with the God I know?

Does this fit with the great commandment to love one another?

So often I find the things which trouble me fail these questions. It’s also highlighted for me that Mormons often obsess on things that don’t really matter.

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There will be people who can’t see your worth. Don’t let yourself be one of them.

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Have fun, enjoy life. Not everything has to be tough or serious. 

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You have claim to two great histories and legacies–LDS & LGBT+. Both the queer community and LDS church, in different ways, teach me about being kind and accepting others.

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I’m putting a lot of links here that I think will be useful resources for you:

This is a TedTalk that speaks about some of the reasons why Nature creates homosexuals, and some of the differences in people who are LGBT compared to the rest of the population.

This is long, but is the best write up I’ve seen about the LDS church’s history on homosexuality while explaining what this is like for gay Mormons

Taylor Petrey is a professor who in this article gives me many things to think about regarding gays & lesbians and Mormonism. 

This is a simple to follow explanation of why temple sealings for gay couples makes sense

This is dense, but it’s a listing of all sorts of queer people and relationships in Church history (we’ve been a part of the Church since the beginning)

Affirmation is the oldest organization for LDS/post-LDS LGBTQ+ individuals, family and allies. They have multiple Facebook pages for different situations. If you’re still active in church, a group for you to check out is Affirmation Prepare.

Collection of scriptures useful for queer people to understand - links to many discussions about the meaning of scriptures often used against queer people, includes some hopeful scriptures, too.

Stages of Faith Transitions - Jana Spangler helped me understand the different stages we go through and it helps us understand the faith we have

Biology of Queerness - I summarize a lot of studies done that show biology is what made us queer, not our choices.

Stonewall Inn and the Riots - This is the story of the beginning of the modern queer-rights movement. Because we are raised by straight people, we often don’t know our LGBTQ+ history and this is a good place to start.  

The Payne Papers - This is would be considered the beginning of the gay rights movement inside the Church. The truths and arguments presented still stand up over 40 years later.  

Queer LDS Heroes of the 2010′s - I think it’s helpful to learn about all these people who helped shape how our church membership has shifted it’s views about LGBTQ people because they were brave enough to come out and share their stories.

My Queer Playlist Part 1 & Part 2 - Listening to these songs can help me feel connected to LGBTQ people even when I am alone. 

—————————

Remember G.A.Y.–God Adores You

[boonki]

something there, something more

a little continuation of a fever prompt, the first part here and the second part by @sonderwalker here! from this prompt list 

Cheers to our pining boys stuck together in the snow

______

The email he had been anxiously awaiting for dings his phone, and in the early morning light of his room, only a single lamp to illuminate the intimate space, he rolls over in bed to fumble it from the nightstand, blinking at the bright screen. 

To the University of Washington community, 

For the safety of our students and staff, classes have been cancelled for the day due to the snow conditions and road closures. Please wait for updates from your teachers on how best to proceed with assignments and exams. Updates on future cancellations will be issued nightly no later than 7 pm. Best, 

President Palpatine 

The same giddy relief that once met him as a college student still worms its way into his heart as a professor, an unexpected day off, no plans ahead of him, just hours and hours of free time. Except, he supposes, a quick email out to his students to continue their essays as normal and wait for the update on Friday’s class. He isn’t sad about losing the day’s lesson plan, it had mostly been a filler class. 

He hums lazily, a sleepy grin pulling his lips back. 

For the first time in weeks, he clicks the lock button and rolls over, stuffing his face into his pillow, and falls back asleep. 

___

Hours later, the sun already cresting in the sky, hidden behind layers and layers of clouds shedding snow, he pads around his kitchen, pulling ingredients out of his fridge and pantry: carrots, chicken, celery, chicken broth, some garlic, an onion, and some noodles. 

When he was younger, his mom had always whipped together chicken noodle soup on the colder days, and when she passed away when he was a teenager, he kept the tradition alive. In the silent, airy space of the kitchen, he feels closer to her cutting up the ingredients and carefully dropping them into the pot, can feel her gentle hand guiding him. The ache of her death has long since passed, but Obi-wan can’t help but wish she were here with him, oiling the stove for the chicken and passing him the garlic to press. 

Somehow, in the many, many years since her death, the habit of cooking for two hasn’t left him; every time he makes this recipe, he ends up with days worth of leftovers. 

The wood floor is cold beneath his bare feet; he didn’t think to put warm clothing on before coming downstairs, head still foggy from sleeping past noon. He knows his hair is sticking out in every direction, and that he could probably use a quick beard trim, but there isn’t anyone to judge him here. No pets, no roommates, just him and his big empty house. 

The smell of the soup bubbles up at him: rich and inviting. He takes a spoon and sips on the broth, using his teeth to grab a very hot carrot that mashes easily in his mouth, a good sign that he can turn the heat down to let it simmer while he gets ready for the day. Some small part of him knows his destination, but the majority of him is still in denial. He has so much soup to share, though. Why let it go to waste? Besides, it’ll be a quick drop off so he can come home and finish the blanket he’s knitting, maybe read a few chapters of his library books. There’s something about an expected day off that makes the mundane feel enthralling. 

He pads back upstairs, lost in thought as he goes through the motions of pulling a sturdy wool sweater over his head, brushing his teeth, combing his hair back, ignoring the shoddy state of his beard. Anakin had looked so horrible the other day, all pale skin and hollowed out eyes, his voice catching on itself, and god, his cough. Worry pangs Obi-wan’s heart, did Anakin have anyone to take care of him? Make sure he doesn’t die of a fever? He can’t go out in this weather to get take-out, and there’s no way he would be cooking with the state he’s in. 

In the back of his head, Obi-wan knows there are very large excuses he’s making for the car crash of the truth: he wants to go see Anakin. 

When he gets back downstairs, the soup is perfect. His mom would be proud. 

___

Snow cakes the road ahead of him, and what should have been a ten minute drive turns into a forty minute one. Obi-wan thinks he has at least six different knots in his back and neck from sitting so close to the steering wheel the entire time, peering intently through the fast-paced windshield wipers as if the effort of looking harder would have any effect on his ability to see in front of him. When he finally pulls up in front of Anakin’s apartment building and finds a neat little spot to back his car into, he lets out a deep breath and slumps into his seat. Maybe this was not as good of an idea as he had hoped it would be. 

He hadn’t even texted. Should he text Anakin? Is showing up at his door, soup in hand, too much? Too forward? Obi-wan is already anxious about pushing the bounds of their relationship too far; what if Anakin thought he was trying to groom him, thought he was a creepy old man with nothing better to do?

Obi-wan hits his head against the steering wheel. 

The weird thing is, he doesn’t mind how inappropriate their relationship had become. Obi-wan had liked coming to his building, liked texting him about casual plans. He just worries his enthusiasm is one-sided. 

It’s been so long since he’s had anything resembling a relationship, so he feels brand new to it again; it’s like riding a bike: the skill will never leave you, but if you take a ten year gap, you might need to wobble a bit before you glide. Obi-wan is wobbling. 

Because he does have a crush, doesn’t he? Isn’t that why he’s here, sitting in his cooling car with homemade soup, outside of some boy’s apartment building? Why else would he go to such measures- especially on his day off? God, he feels so juvenile. 

He hits his head on the steering wheel again. 

The cold is starting to seep through the seams of the car, so he takes a deep breath, grabs his soup, and steps out into the snow. It crunches underneath his boots, leaving a trail of footprints all the way to the door of the building, which swings open easily for Obi-wan. 

He fishes his phone out of his pocket. Anakin had texted which one he lived in, but it had felt too… like too much, last time he came. He hadn’t wanted to intrude on Anakin’s personal space.

#344. 

The elevator ride is both too short and too fast, his anxiety rising with each floor. What if Anakin didn’t like chicken noodle soup? He definitely should’ve texted. But the doors glide open and the wide expanse of the hall looms in front of him, stretching for what seems like forever in both directions. The floorplan seems to be circular; a little guide that reads “301-322 left, 323-344 right” with arrows points him in the right direction, so he sets off to the right, each step waking up a new butterfly in his stomach. 

When he reaches 344, he stares at the door for a moment, considering the fact that Anakin is on the other side of the thin wall, completely unaware of Obi-wan. Something yanks at him to turn back, but Obi-wan would feel even more pathetic if he went home with a full bowl of soup, and Anakin does probably need it, so. Here goes nothing. 

The bell ding-dongs from the interior, the sound muffled. Obi-wan hears nothing, and then slow footsteps and a lock being unlatched. 

Anakin is wearing his sweater. 

“Obi-w- Professor Kenobi, hey,” Anakin rasps out, eyes wide open, clearly startled, and sounding a bit better than he had a few days ago, but not by much. His bangs are held back by a little clip, shooting a tuft of hair straight into the air. “Sorry if I missed your text, I’ve been asleep-” 

“Ah,” Obi-wan shuffles in place, embarrassed. “I didn’t text, which I realize now that I should have, but-”

“No,” Anakin cuts in, “that’s okay.” 

They stand there in awkward silence before Anakin points at the bowl Obi-wan is clutching to his chest. 

“You brought soup?” 

Obi-wan looks down to the container like he’s never seen it before, cheeks burning like lava. “Yes! I, well, you see my mother and I always made soup when it snowed, and I always make extra, so I thought you’d, well,” he chances a peek at Anakin, whose features are slackened in a soft smile, “I thought you could use some given that you’re sick and it’s snowing.” 

“Have you eaten yet?” Anakin asks, ignoring his bumbling explanation. 

“No,” he thinks back, “I didn’t get the chance.”

Anakin drags his door open and steps back, gesturing for Obi-wan to come inside. “Let’s share, then.” 

Obi-wan balks at the open door, because he knows once he crosses that threshold there is no going back between them. He’d have officially been in Anakin’s apartment, sharing homemade soup with Anakin, taking care of him while he’s sick. The intimacy of seeing how someone lives, to see all the details of their existence on display, who they are when no one else is around… that sort of intimacy frightens Obi-wan. 

“I don’t want to be an imposition,” he starts, only to get cut off by a particularly nasty sneeze from Anakin. “Bless you.”

“You’re not, so come on.” Anakin reaches forward and tugs on his arm, and really, Obi-wan has no choice. 

While he had never actively imagined Anakin’s living space, he had always assumed it would be something akin to a sparse bachelor pad, dirty and meant for college students who couldn’t afford any better. But this is a pleasant surprise: a black rug and couch sits neatly against the wall of a tidy and cozy living room, branching off to a kitchen and a door Obi-wan assumes is Anakin’s bedroom. There are a few mirrors behind the couch, and a few (fake?) plants spotted around the room, even a candle on the coffee table. 

Anakin leads him into the kitchen and Obi-wan sees now this is where the mess lies; computer parts, nuts, bolts, tools, and loose wires scatter the counter, leaving little room for anything else save the sink and a hand towel. He stands there and waits for Anakin to clear a space for the bowl, muttering about how he didn’t know company would be over otherwise he would’ve picked up a little. 

Obi-wan doesn’t know if he even wants to ask what Anakin is making. 

The bowl is transferred into the microwave, cooking for a few minutes on low to properly reheat, and Obi-wan sets out to find some spoons so he’s not left in awkward, still silence. 

“Sorry there’s no table, I never really have anyone over and it takes up so much space, so,” Anakin is blushing, either embarrassed to have someone over or still running a fever. Maybe a bit of both. “Oh, here, in that drawer,” he motions to Obi-wan, crowding into his space to pull open the drawer. Obi-wan stiffens at their proximity; he can feel the heat pouring off of Anakin, and he grips the spoons like his life depends on it. 

They perch by the counter, listening to the hum of the microwave. 

“What are you doing during winter break?” Anakin asks him, breaking the quiet. 

Obi-wan breaths in, thinking of his answer. “I’m not sure, probably just relax. Maybe work on my library books, plan for winter quarter.” 

Anakin scoffs, and it turns into a full blown hacking spree. When he’s done, he winces. “Sorry, your plans are so sad my whole body freaked out.” 

He snorts. “My plans aren’t sad. What are you doing, then?” 

“Well, now that I’ve graduated, I suppose I should be looking for a job, so probably that.” Anakin stares up at the soup rotating in the microwave in contemplation. 

Something small and sad tugs at Obi-wan’s heart. He had forgotten that Anakin wouldn’t be around anymore. No more impromptu office visits. 

“But,” Anakin continues, “it would be nice to have help with my resume and interviewing.” He glances at Obi-wan out of the corner of his eyes. 

The microwave beeps: the soup is finished reheating. 

“Of course, I’d be happy to help.” Obi-wan says, warmth flooding his tone. He’s grateful that Anakin still wants him in his life, still wants his help. 

Anakin sniffles and splits the soup into two bowls, handing one to Obi-wan, who is still holding both their spoons. 

“You wanna watch something? We can sit on the couch.” Anakin says, and motions for Obi-wan to follow. Obi-wan tentatively settles into the couch, which is surprisingly cushy, as Anakin flips open Netflix and pulls up The Great British Baking Show. 

“Is this okay? It’s kind of addictive.” Anakin looks suddenly self-conscious about his choice in television, grabbing a set of glasses from his coffee table. They are way too big for him and nearly slide down his nose in seconds. Obi-wan might combust. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” 

Anakin shifts. “Only to see long distances, I mostly just use them for watching things.” 

Obi-wan nods at that, and throws a hand up in the air towards the TV screen. “This is fine, I like cooking shows.” 

“They’re definitely my guilty pleasure, I’ve always wished I was better at cooking.” Anakin blows on the soup on his spoon, eyes glued to the TV.

The hosts introduce the challenge, and Obi-wan looks down at his soup, stirring it all absentmindedly. “I can teach you, if you want. My mom passed a lot onto me before she, well.” Obi-wan smiles at him. “I’d like to think I’m a pretty good cook.” 

Anakin pushes his glasses back on his face. “If the soup is anything to go by, I believe you.” 

He chuckles, shifting his attention back to the TV. Helping Anakin find a job, teaching him how to cook- they’re both just trying to find excuses to stay in each other’s lives. It’d be endearing if it weren’t so sad. 

The episode drags out, a winner is named and someone gets sent home, and Anakin and Obi-wan are long finished with their soup, the bowls having been discarded onto the coffee table a while ago. When the credits roll, neither of them get up, and the next episode autoplays. Obi-wan hopes he isn’t overstaying his visit, but Anakin seems comfortable and relaxed. Anakin offers him a blanket, and Obi-wan drapes it over his lower body, slouching further into the couch. 

Over the next few hour long episodes, they seem to inch closer, fully lounging now. Jokes are made, laughter is shared, and Obi-wan keeps handing him tissues, grateful that he isn’t wiping his snot on the sweater’s sleeve. 

He still can’t believe he’s sitting here on Anakin’s couch, watching a cooking show, while Anakin sits next to him wearing one of his sweaters. 

Maybe he is the one with a delirious fever? 

The fourth episode draws to a close, and Obi-wan spares a glance at one of the windows, where the afternoon had faded into evening. “I still don’t think she should have won, did you see the state of her frosting?” He stands up and stretches, sighing in relief when a few of his bones pop, laughing when Anakin’s do the same. “I should probably get going, though, it’s getting dark.” 

But when the pair make it to the window, they are greeted by glistening white, snow almost completely covering the cars parked outside. There’s no way he can drive home in this, and they both know it. The air seems to thicken between them. 

“Hey, you can crash on the couch and drive home once the snowplow has been through?” Anakin, though standing right next to him, seems miles away, his tone small and unsure. 

“Surely not, you’ve already let me stay long as it is. I’ll…” he trails off, thinking. 

“What, walk home?” Anakin supplies, shaking his head. “Absolutely not, you can stay. I don’t mind,” he places a hand on Obi-wan’s arm, “really.” 

“You’re right, I don’t have much of a choice.” Obi-wan laughs under his breath. Still, if he did have the choice, he’d want to stay. Not that he’d ever admit that to Anakin. 

Anakin takes the few steps back to the couch, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around himself like a cape. “Well, should we finish the season then?” 

_____

It’s midnight by the time the pair are too tired to stay awake, drifting off into separate spaces. 

“Can I borrow something to sleep in?” Obi-wan asks Anakin, who is standing in the doorway to his room. From what Obi-wan can see, it looks a lot like the living room, all blacks and soft fabrics. 

Anakin’s eyes widen. “Uh, yes. Hold on.” He disappears into his room and comes back with a blue flannel pajama set. “Here, the bathroom is just across the kitchen.” 

Obi-wan takes the little pile of clothing from him with a soft thanks and retreats to the bathroom to change. The pants are entirely too long on him, and the shirt hangs on him, clearly meant for someone who has a little broader shoulders. But the set smells like Anakin, and Obi-wan wants to breathe it in forever. 

When he comes out, Anakin bites back a smile, holding his lower lip between his teeth. He doesn’t say anything though, and Obi-wan is both disappointed and relieved. 

“So there’s a bunch of blankets on the couch for you, let me know if you need anything else.” He says, backing into his room. 

Obi-wan clears his throat. “Of course. Goodnight, Anakin.” 

Anakin dips his head and closes his door. “Goodnight.”

In the dark of the living room, Obi-wan shakes the blankets out so they lay flat over the couch, and slips his legs under them to get comfortable, laying on back to stare at the ceiling. 

What a day. 

If someone had told him this was what his snow day would’ve looked like, he would’ve laughed in their face. Just under two weeks ago, they had been huddled together in his office, working on Anakin’s paper like normal. And now, he’s spending the night at Anakin’s apartment. And while Anakin technically isn’t a student anymore, and certainly not his student any more by a long shot, there’s still a sticky and uncomfortable unease sitting in his gut; he doesn’t know how old Anakin is, but Obi-wan is surely much older than him. Plus, he doesn’t know if there’s a power play at hand, what if Anakin just thinks he’s being a creepy old man and feels obligated to let him stay? 

But he thinks about the way Anakin’s flashed with happiness when Obi-wan laughed at one of his jokes during the show, the way they inched towards each other, Anakin’s face when Obi-wan came out of the bathroom in his pajamas. 

Needless to say, Obi-wan doesn’t get much sleep. Instead, he thinks about the fact that Anakin is also lying down, just a thin apartment wall in between them, and watches the large snowflakes drift down in silent waves outside. 

Obi-wan wonders if Anakin is sleeping in his sweater. He hopes he is. 

[vangoghmusings]

noise complaint- self ship

pairing: kuroo x pat

warnings: alcohol, smoking, party culture, sexual assault ptsd 

word count: 2589

a/n: HNGKNSFKLS THIS IS LAME BUT i just wanted to imagine patsuro in my current college setting :’)) this is self indulgent and kinda comfort fluff?? and yes i’m aware i seem like a bitch i tried to be as honest about how i act in irl,, otherwise enjoy... 

Patricia hummed and shut her eyes happily as the sun hit her face. She swung her keys attached to her lanyard as she made her way to her campus apartment. As a sophomore in college, she was honestly surprised she even made it past one year. Her strength was in street smarts rather than book smarts, yet here she was. She waved to a few familiar faces as she walked through the campus and made her way into her dorm building. She was beyond ecstatic for this school year, living with her best friends and delving further into her major.  

She stopped at her door, covered in decorations she had made with her roommates. She smiled softly, a sense of hope for the school year filling her.  

That hope quickly faded as she heard a familiar voice while she attempted to open the door to her apartment.  

“Patricia!”  

She looked over to see a tall messy haired boy walking towards her. She sighed and turned to him, leaning against her locked door.  

“Kuroo.”  

He rolled his eyes and stopped in front of her.  

“Why do you only call me by my last name?”  

“Because I can’t just give you the satisfaction of letting you hear me say your real name, can I?”  

He sighed and looked down at her as she lazily crossed her arms over her chest.  

“How was your summer?”  

“Fine, I worked a lot.”  

“The garden center, right?”

“Mhm.”  

Kuroo nodded and looked down at his feet. He was aware Patricia wasn’t fond of him. Frankly she couldn’t help it. He didn’t know but she was terrified of men. Previous trauma had developed into PTSD which manifested into a constant state of anger towards any man that came her way. It wasn’t healthy or right but it's how it was. However, Kuroo saw this as flat out hatred rather than a deep-rooted fear.  

“Well,” He said before clearing his throat. “I just wanted to let you know I’m your floor RA this year.”  

Patricia nodded slowly and gave him a soft smile.  

“Cool, I’m sure you’ll do a great job.”  

“Thanks, but you should be aware I’ll be strict about underage drinking and-”  

Patricia gasped and placed her hand on her chest in mock offense.  

“Me? Drinking? Oh Kuroo, I’m not that kind of girl.”  

Kuroo raised a brow and gave her a doubtful look.  

“Still playing the good Catholic school girl act?”  

Patricia chuckled and hummed looking down at her feet and back up at Kuroo.  

“This is a Catholic university, I’m a girl, and I’m literally majoring in Theology. I don’t know if that’s an act. I’m as much of a goodie two shoes as you are Kuroo.”  

“I highly doubt-”  

“And besides,” She said with a snide grin, “if we don’t sin a little, then Jesus died for nothing right?”  

Kuroo scoffed and before he could form a sentence to combat her ridiculous statement, she unlocked her door and gave him a wave.  

“Don’t worry Kuroo, just because I own a key to the campus sacristy, doesn’t mean I’ll steal the holy wine.”  

He gaped as she slid into her apartment, giving him a teasing wink, and hearing the door lock.  

That following Friday, Patricia found herself trapped in the same hallway.  

“Gretchen is DDing right?” She asked her roommate while adjusting her mini backpack.  

“Yup!” Her roommate, Dashi chirped while texting. Patricia grinned and turned to lock the door when she heard a familiar ‘tsk’. She sighed and looked to see Kuroo dressed down in gray sweatpants and a t-shirt. He looked oddly good, or was it her Friday night hunger?  

“Kuroo!” She sang and gave him a big grin.  

“Patricia, Dashi,” He said, giving a nod at each girl. He paused slightly, looking Patricia up and down. She was usually caught wearing leggings and baggy t-shirts with hiking sandals, but tonight, she wore jeans, heels, and a black body suit that was probably more low-cut than it should’ve been. She rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers in his face.  

“Kuroo, you pervert. What do you want?” She glared up at him, propping her hand on her waist.  

He blinked, his face flush with embarrassment.  

“You look nice.”  

Patricia nodded and gave him a tart smile.  

“Thanks. Did you need something?”  

Dashi watched, her eyes peering away from her phone screen. It was painful to watch. Patricia was usually quite good at reading people, however the image of the flustered boy in front of her didn’t seem to connect the dots of attraction in her mind.  

“Just, be safe tonight okay?”  

She rolled her eyes a began to walk out the door, Dashi at her side.  

“Will do,” She cooed while giving him a mocking salute while walking backwards and turning on her heel as she got to the door.  

Kuroo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. She was just so fake. A doe-eyed attentive student in class, participating and kissing ass for professors, working for campus ministry, running the prayer nights, leading religious retreats, and going to church on Sundays. Yet now she was out and ready to do God knows what. She was a sly liar, and she loved every minute of being a complete enigma.  

Dashi and Patricia reached the apartment, a dorm complex nicknamed the Hive by students. It was where the buzz happened while everyone got buzzed. Patricia grinned at the feeling of the floor vibrating and the air smelling like sweat and weed. The messy sensation always managed to bring her joy. They shuffled inside, the apartment packed with drunken and high college students. Patricia inhaled the hot air deeply and scanned the living room for a familiar face.  

There sat one of her roommates Mix on their boyfriend's lap, rolling a join with nimble fingers as he softly kissed their neck. She chuckled, those two were attached at the hip. She pointed them out to Dashi and they made their way over.  

“Mix!” Patricia sang and gave her roommate a wave.  

“Pat Pat!” They gasped and stumbled getting up. Ushijima, their boyfriend set his hands on their hips to help them regain balance. They giggled, their usual stone demeanor diminished under the ruse of weed and alcohol. “Here!! You need to catch up,” They said, licking the joint to seal it and then handing It over to her.  

“Aw thanks Mix!” Patricia gave a thankful smile as Ushijima handed her the lighter that he managed to tuck behind his ear. She lit the joint and inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fall from her nose slowly. Mix clapped happily as she chuckled and handed the joint to Dashi.  

“Tay is in the kitchen by the way,” Ushijima said softly. Patricia nodded and gave the couple each a pat on the head before sneaking into the kitchen, the idea of a cup of WOP calling her name. She smiled seeing Tay who was talking to a boy who she recognized from her ceramics class as Touya.  

“Taaaay,” She sang before giving her roommate a hug. Tay laughed and hugged back.  

“Hey love!” Tay smiled, a dreamy expression on her face, either from alcohol or talking to the very attractive boy. Patricia giggled and gave her a nod of approval before going to pour herself a cup of whatever the hell was in the WOP tonight. She knew she needed to catch up, deciding to down the cup, despite the burn in her throat.  

“Shit,” she mumbled before refilling the cup. She took a few leisurely sips before returning to the smoking sesh with Mix and Ushijima, Dashi had disappeared onto the dance floor and appeared to be grinding on a very flustered yellow haired boy. Patricia picked up the still hot joint and brought it to her lips, taking a slow drag before looking over at Mix, who seemed to be whispering in Ushijima’s ear, his face a deep crimson at every word they spoke. Patricia giggled and took another sip, the joint tucked between her index and middle finger as she held the cup. She was buzzed, giggly and light, but nothing major. The struggles of a high alcohol tolerance.  

“AYO QUIET!”  

The shout was heard over the hum of the party, and the music quickly died. There was a knock on the door.  

“RA on call! We got a noise complaint.”  

Patricia blinked and sighed. The other party goers where shuffling around to hide and scattering in different directions. Too irritated to care, she went to open the door, knowing that if they made the RA wait any longer that campus police would show up. She opened the door and if her frown couldn’t get any bigger, it did.  

There stood Kuroo with his RA fanny-pack sitting across his chest. He seemed to have matching smile, that only grew into shock as he watched Patricia take sip of her drink while continuing to make eye contact with him.  

“We got a noise complaint?” She asked, her half-lidded eyes a shade of pink.  

Kuroo narrowed his own eyes and stepped inside.  

“You know I have to report this as illegal activity.”  

She sighed and nodded, taking the cup in her other hand and taking a puff from the joint, blowing it gently in Kuroo’s face. He winced at the smell and she smiled softly.  

“Yeah, I know.”  

He scoffed and glared at her as she set the items down, stepping out into the hallways and closing the door behind her.  

“Theres a lot of people in there. Just mark me down, ok? I don’t want you to have the reputation of the hated RA.”  

He tilted his face at the oddly considerate offer but proceeded to shake his head.  

“I can’t do that, that’s against the rules.”  

Patricia gave and exasperated sigh and leaned against the wall of the hallway, the dim yellow lights exposing her red cheeks and red eyes.  

“I’m just trying to help you out, Tetsuro.”  

He blinked.  

“You said my first name.”  

“It's a means of persuasion,” she replied before reaching up to push her hair out of her face. “C’mon,” She said while beginning to walk down the hall. “Let's go back home so you can rest, and I can watch Netflix.”  

Kuroo watched as she swayed slightly as she walked and huffed, walking beside her. As by instinct, he reached to take her hand as a means of balancing her, but she quickly swatted it away, fear plastered on her face.  

“W-What are you doing?” She asked, holding her hand close to her chest, her eyes full of uncertainty.  

“I-I-, you we’re swaying a lot and I didn’t want you to fall over.”  

Patricia eyed him, rubbing her hands together anxiously.  

“Thats it? Swear you won’t pull anything?”  

Kuroo frowned, offended by her accusation.  

“Do you think I’m that kind of person?”  

She looked down at her hands, tears welling in her eyes.  

“Aren’t all boys like that?”  

Kuroo looked down stunned, at first from offence, but then by the fact that the usually relaxed and cheerful Patricia looked like she had seen a ghost. He quickly connected the dots and nodded slowly.  

“I’m sorry...but I can assure you I’m not like that.”  

She looked up at him, tears ready to spill. Kuroo bit his lip in hesitation, but slowly reached up to gingerly wipe her tears away with his thumbs.  

“I promise,” He whispered.  

Patricia stared at him with wide glassy eyes, searching his face for any sort of evidence that he was lying. When she couldn’t find any, she dove into his chest, hugging him tightly.  

“Thank you,” she cried softly into his chest, his shirt getting wet from her tears. He hushed her gently and hugged back, rubbing her back gently. As soon as she was able to catch her breath, Patricia focused on the feeling of Kuroo’s large hands rubbing her back sweetly. There was no sense of malice or any sign that he would hurt her. So, she relished in the newfound sense of safety.  

She sniffled and looked up at him, pulling away quickly.  

“Sorry,” she croaked out while weakly gesturing to the tear stain on his chest.  

He shrugged, “It's just salt water. Let's get you some water and sober you up okay?”  

Patricia nodded and looked down, pouting slightly like a small child, still swaying with each step. Kuroo chuckled and once again reached for her hand as she walked. Except this time, she didn’t pull away.  

Once they reached the dorm hall, Kuroo looked down at Patricia, who seemed to have calmed down.  

“Is it cool if we go to my apartment. I’ve got bottled water and double stuffed Oreos.”  

“Those are my favorite,” She said with a sniffle.  

Kuroo chuckled and nodded.  

“Yeah I know, you put them on your resident introduction sheet.”  

She nodded, remembering the form she filled out before moving into her new residence hall.  

They reached Kuroo’s door and walked inside. Patricia looked around and the surprisingly clean apartment.  

“Here,” he said, bringing her back to earth, “Water.”  

She nodded and took the bottle, chugging it down quickly. A dribble of water rand down her chin and down her chest, causing Kuroo to look away flushed. She furrowed her eyes at him and lazily wiped her lips.  

“Hm?”  

“Nothing,” Kuroo mumbled, looking away in embarrassment. Patricia rolled her eyes and jumped to sit up on his countertop.  

“Have you ever done anything with a girl Kuroo?”

Kuroo blinked and looked down at his feet, his usual prideful demeanor gone.  

“Not really. Just like making out and stuff.”  

“So, you’re a virgin?” She asked him, tilting her head in curiosity. Her eyes were no longer noticeably puffy and her face was much less red as before.  

“I mean...I guess.”  

Patricia nodded slowly, eyeing Kuroo up and down as if she was analyzing every little thing about him. He was undeniably handsome. She was almost upset it took her a small break down to realize how truly caring he seemed. Just because he was a figure of authority shouldn’t have equated a dislike for him. She eyed his soft pink lips and smiled slightly. He really was pretty.  

“Do you want to kiss Tetsuro?”  

Kuroo looked up at her, sincerity in her face. There was something about the way she said his name that just felt like pure velvet.  

“I-, are you sure?”  

She nodded and gave him a soft smile.  

“Yeah, plus I want to kiss you.”  

Kuroo nodded slowly and stepped in between Patricia’s knees which hung off the counter.  

“May I?” He asked quietly, his hands hovering above her thighs. She giggled softly and nodded. Kuroo placed his large hands on her thighs and she smiled looking down at him and back up at his face. He loomed over her.  

“You’re tall,” She hummed in a whisper.  

Slowly, she brought her hand up to the collar of his shirt and tugged him down to her level gently. She gaped her mouth open, Kuroo’s lips grazing hers in anticipation. Patricia smiled before closing her eyes and leaning into Kuroo, their lips molding together. The kisses started out subtle, but soon turned heated and Patricia wound up with her hands against his chest, biting down gently on his bottom lip. She pulled away with a slight tug and let go, her eyes opening to look at Kuroo’s bright pink face. She giggled and pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek.  

“Thank you for the water.”  

[fruitylibrarian]

quest of the spear live rewatch!

i already spewed my pre call to adventure flynn thoughts all over a text post but I would like to repeat: pre-canon flynn my beloved <3

yes he is a bit of a bastard but he just loves his books and he’s so genuinely just like. passionate and like…. Big? does that make sense? like i mean inside. not literally. bright

flynn’s mom is so fucking funny

and she’s Trying Her Best

you know one thing I don’t understand, I assume that flynn could afford to keep going to college because of like grants and scholarships since he’s all smart and like, even if his mom is well off, no one below the morally bankrupt millionaire line can pay for 22 degrees and not die of no-money-itis otherwise known as Starving

but like. why not become a professor or some other academia position?

you’d be incredibly overqualified and you’re a white dude, so while academia isn’t exactly bursting with new spaces to fill I’m sure you could find something???? and like. a professor in particular, while baby flynn might not be great at the connection part, seems like a natural progression to at least try for considering it keeps you in that comfort zone and familiar space just in a different albeit familiar role, and allows you to go on long lectures people can’t interrupt. and like, professors literally like, part of their job is research and to continue learning, so like. it seems like the natural choice for him to go for?

don’t get me wrong, baby flynn in particular might not be extremely well suited considering his lack of people skills, but plenty of professors are brilliant slightly odd smarties who give long, super engaging theatrical lectures (sounds like him!) but suck at one on one meetings and talking to people or may be accidentally insulting, but like, their class is genuinely interesting and they grade decently so like, I think he could get past that hurdle is what I’m saying

obviously he’d have to work at it and get the skills necessary but you know what that means? MORE SCHOOL, BABY! just in a different direction! like just? it seems like the obvious choice for his situation

ah yes!!! magic letter!!! it’s kind of funny they do this, it’s a great hook and way to make applicants go Uh Excuse Me and want to know more but also like, there’s no proof magic happened either?

although you’d think some people would get obsessive like let me tell you if i encountered real ass magic like that i wouldn’t stop until i had an answer

ah the Incredibly Long Interview Line. it’s kinda how funny how like. Not Special he is but at the same time he is?

“never been treated so badly in my entire life!” what did you say to him charlene

i’m sure he deserved it i just want to know

wait oh no i just realized

all these people are dead

every single one of them got murdered in the first episode of the series

jesus that’s dark

not gonna be able to stop thinking about that one huh

also love how it’s pretty evenly men and women

although it’s still mostly white

fuck that lady just left crying I know they’re doing this to turn up the drama but DAMN, charlene

god he almost gave up. remember the timeline episode where he never became the librarian? weird.

Gkjlfkgjhfglh Where Do You Think You’re Going? (weak gesture like “me?”) Yes You. Get In Here amazing how can she even see him she’s around the CORNER. camera? magical surveillance? why? just to freak people out? amazing.

i do so love charlene, it’s a shame she wasn’t in the show more

also she literally never explains shit. What Makes You Think You Can Be The Librarian he doesn’t even know what that means, charlene

He Doesn’t Even Have A Library Science Degree

oh wow he does actually have librarian qualifications lmao

why did i not remember that

DLKFGJDFG I did remember him sherlocking her tho

wait her MARRIAGE? to WHO?

i thought her and judson were a thing despite jenkins being into her or something?

huh

also why does this qualify him to be The Librarian™ like oh he can sherlock? ok?

maybe it’s just bc he had the balls to do it

well, the sherlock thing is also not completely unhelpful it just doesn’t seem central to his skills, or at least, not the way he uses it (do we see him use it like this again? he usually applies more obscure knowledge then ye classic deduction sherlockian skills if I remember correctly which I may not because my brain is smooth)

judson is such a fucking drama queen

LKDJFGLKDJFGLDKFJG I FUCKING FORGOT HE LITERALLY JUST FUCKING REPEATED HIS MOM’S LITTLE PHRASE AMAZING

also why did he seem to think her sending everyone home meant he didn’t get it why would she stop all interviews because you fucked up

he just fucking walked out of a wall judson you are so dramatic

also warehouse 13 vibes huh. welcome to a world of endless wonder

I could do a whole fucking thesis on warehouse 13 and the librarians or—well that’s a whole other tangent

anYWYA

this interview was remarkably easy tho, it’s not like he wasn’t impressive but it wasn’t mindblowing either????? this coming from a big fan of flynn

the big shiny wonderous eyes as the library lights up……flynn my beloved

also his floofy hair ldkfgjdlkfgj

he’s like this is too good am I being prank’d

why the mona lisa?????iIs the mona lisa magic??? It only became famous because it got stolen why would it be magic??? Is this one of those we make it magic by believing it or some shit things???

Flynn Do Not Open The Random Box In The Library Of Incredibly Dangerous Artifacts

oh hello excalibur !!

oh rip flynn immediately being like “oh im not worthy, trust me” with 100 percent certainty im hurt oof

KSJFLGKDJGLKDJG THE APPLE “the apple from the garden of eden…….” *judson takes a bite* “actually I just left this here”

excalibur hello properly!!!!

judson is such a fucking DRAMA QUEEN he’s so casual!! and cal you too you slippery bitch!  

ah the jetpack.

DLFKGJDLKFGJ “it usually takes a new librarian four hours to find the jetpack. you did it in three! congratulations” love the implication that every librarian (at least since it was added to the library) has done this no matter how serious like the bad guy of this movie… *checks notes* edware wilde? jetpack. darrington dare, probably? jetpack. i like to think jenkins did it too (not technically a librarian, but you know)

flynn thinking of himself as embarrassing… ☹

HIS MOM IS SO PROUD OF HIM

part sweet, part funny, part rip

I don’t know what she was expecting when he said librarian tho like. originally he literally looked at shit for FRY COOk degrees don’t always mean shit you know

and librarian is up there with professor in Perfect Jobs For Flynn like what did you expect??? Like even if he’d become an archaeologist (a “cool” job) it’s not like that pays super well either as far as I know??

he was never going to be Traditionally Successful

he’s still the same person he still has the same strengths and passions of course he would go into academia and do something like librarian like????? her reaction saddens me.

just be happy for him!! look at him!!!

ok first of all even normal non magic librarians don’t just put books on shelves and that’s a condescending reduction of the job, and second of all, he is so happy!! he has a job, he’s taking responsibility, he’s meeting people, isn’t that enough??? isn’t that literally what you wanted??? even if it WERE what you think it is why couldn’t it just be a good first step??? like??? fuck??? you did been know that he was doing all those fancy degrees because he loved them not because they’d get him some super fancy job??? I mean egyptology is not the most profitable field you know this isn’t med school or whatever

god.

flynn’s mom, visibly not proud and very upset: of course im proud of you!

ok im being a little unfair, she’s trying and clearly she’s been supportive of him, if not straight up enabling of him, but like this is clearly being presented as like. normal person who is normal forced to take care of freakish strange son who is so nerdy and strange and a loser and she is so tired of his shenanigans and all that WORK she put in and he’s NOT FANCY AND CHANGING TO CONFORM TO HER IDEALS OF A GOOD SUCCESSFUL SON/MAN?

and that’s just all very. sigh.

the snake brotherhood are such obnoxiously cheesy villainous villains they’re even called the snake brotherhood

also I think we’re supposed to recognize him as the previous librarian from the painting but if I didn’t already know that I for sure would not know that

smartass flynn is a smartass

I never got people bringing someone coffee to impress them unless they knew their order like there’s no way you know who she likes her coffee so you could so easily get it wrong—like even if you don’t know exactly how much sugar she wants, you could also just get it entirely wrong like assume she likes black coffee but she likes it super sweet, or vice versa, or whatever. it can go wrong so easily!

or she could go “I Hate A Kiss Ass”

she did take it anyway tho so.

ah i did forget (or just not actively think about) how much like… christian mythology there is in this show :/ I mean we did been knew (excalibur and arthurian legend are pretty important to the mythology)

not that christian mythology is inherently bad it just gets a) annoying, b) boring, and c) y’know, very western centric and all

but then trying to reconcile di���you know what that’s a tangent for another time

then again I do assume no one is going to read this

the library really does just throw new librarians into death and go “hope this is fine!” huh

did they just imply god is canon in the “the librarian” universe

you were so cryptic with the no one thing!! just say NOONE

he’s scribbling in his notebook and mumbling out loud what a mood and I love him. what a nerd

ldfkgjdlkjg god sexy jazz music and a breeze this is so dumb

I do hate the forced love interests in all these movies it’s always like Some Hot Girl Is There And They Get It On!

like he really had chemistry with eve and banter but here it kinda feels like that wish fulfilment and then the nerd gets the hot chick the end and im saying that as the nerd

it doesn’t help that each movie has a different one who immediately is dropped as if she never existed afterwards

maybe it’s not as bad as I remember but. sigh

my instant impression of her is to not like her sorry nicole :/

she’s just so rude? she’s like. hot (derogatory)

i get there’s gender politics here with like. she’s used to being treated like a piece of meat and generally like, why not reap the benefits when you are going to get the creeps too, but like, also she’s just so unnecessarily rude—I mean rejecting his clumsy flirting is one thing but you know—ok I won’t even get into that the point is I just don’t really like her that much even tho I don’t think she’s necessarily a bad person or anything you know

but to be fair I think she got better and I remember her being compelling in her return to the show

and like. I do like how the trend in this franchise is “smart little nerd librarian and badass lady guardian kicks ass” but I do wish that it turned around occasionally. we do get cassandra but like. more lady librarians

wow an air marshal? aren’t they rarely even on flights?

sorry im being nitpicky there for sure lmao. please delete the cinamasins ding my words probably summoned from your brain

I get why shoving him out was necessary but also Wow

Gjklhkjfgh imagine sitting next to some mumbling nerd the whole flight and then you see him fly past the windows

LFKGJDLKJDFG he brilliantly lowers our expectations then jumps without a chute! remarkable!

hilarious or commentary on men getting credit for womens’ competency? why not both

i really thought that she was going to be a lying liar the first time I watched this

ah naïve boy. “uh that’s against the law”

flynn’s greatest strength isn’t just his knowledge but his like. breadth of different topics, just like, passion for learning of any time, and like. the ability to not just know a lot of different things but cross-reference and apply them to each other and use them in tandem to understand a greater whole

and we love that for him!

ah flynn therapizing himself lmao

why would she take him going “this bridge is rotting and physically cant support our weight” as a challenge

or him being cowardly like THE STRUCTURAL SUPPORTS ARE ROTTING

YEAH WHAT DID YOU EXPECT OF COURSE HE FUCKING FELL

ok i lied i like nicole i just don’t love their dynamic

i get what they’re going for i just. not my thing

like with eve there was still a clear mutual respect? i guess? idk

maybe it’s just because i’m more sensitive to mean banter? i don’t like mean banter, even when it’s like, def 100 percent well meaning and not mean spirited and no one is actually offended or hurt

although despite not liking their Thing I do a) think it’s very cute how he looks at her, b) their vibe as they start to get to know each other is Better, c) the end of the movie scene where she rides in for maximum drama? now that was good shit.

oh he’s sherlocking her in a shy attempt to impress her but it’s only going to piss her off, right?

oh she’s just sherlocking him back

KSGFJLDKFGJ LMAO “nerd” and that’s it. fair

Cutting Off His Head damn that’s hardcore

hmmmm cringe,

and more cringe

and cringe.

her waking up to him gone right after telling that story about waking up to her librarian gone and then killed—oof

love the serpent brotherhood lady being like wow!! he’s SO COMPETENT!! (cuts to him screaming)

do these ancient traps just have infinite arrows?

also I do love the whole waltzing across trope what can I say im a sucker

DFLKGLDKFGJLDKJG fucking CHUCKS SOMETHING AT IT and immediately where he would be standing is crushed by a huge rock amazing

he literally just chucked a rock at it and it fell over

ah the classic “let the hero get it for us” move

oh there he is! rip

why does he look like macpherson

not really but kind of

also contrast between the lady always being like “omg the librarian is so smart” and him assuming nicole is the one who did the smart thing

“your tears were perfect” how much more of an asshole can you get

They really could have played him as more sympathetic—“oh, we’re always around these powerful artifacts but we never use them for good! I had to do it, I was sick of sitting back and doing nothing” or like “all those years of danger and guarding powerful things and what good did it ever do me? what do I get for my service?” or anything but nah hes just like “mm power good babes. anyway I love sex and being mean”

to be fair flynn he was the librarian too—a real librarian? I mean yeah edward was corrupted and ultimately failed his duties but he had to have been qualified and actually got the job for a reason

flynn I know you think you sound badass but you really don’t

god not shangri-la again. everything the show did with that was. Bad. yikes

why is—god, I should really learn her name [checks notes] lana fangirling so much?

also following the lamia tradition of “serpent brotherhood second in command who is more interesting than the main evil white guy and also a pretty woc” huh

never got like “this is literally impossible” “well do it or I [generic bad guy threat]” like usually that means nothing lmao

LDFKGJLDKFJLDKFGJ ok first of all god is me? bitch?

second of all. me in english? on this fucking ancient very much not english thing? I mean I guess a) it might not be literal, even though he did say “m, e” by letters, b) it is a christian myth so maybe planted later??? but like?????

dude. giving the super powerful artifact to your prisoner? bad idea. if you’re worried about booby traps have a minion do it.

oh yes your gun is so scary in the face of a temple collapsing

why do heroes always think the whatever is safer with them than the temple that’s guarded it for a thousand years

I get it’s been discovered but like. fuck. still

You Are Going To Crash This Helicopter

SLKGJ HORRIBLE HIGH VELOCITY PIE OF DEATH

flynn and judson…..wholesome

oh here comes more forced romance

just let them be friends who grow to mutually respect each other blease

it is very fucking funny that the mom is like ….. oh my god…. oh my god,,, a WOMAN AJUST ANSEWREDM Y SDONGS PHONE?????????OH MY GOFD?????

he is bisexual. but it’s good he’s getting out

ah floofy hair

cahooting,

Yes You Do Need Clothes

that’s a teleporter sir

god eddie wild is such a boring fucking villain and person

and his plan SUCKS

also the serpent brotherhood (why BROTHERhood?) sucks and hates the library why would they just let this guy, a librarian, literally be their new leader

wow he just stabbed a guy on his OWN TEAM for no reason

great going asshole

love how lana is just like…. O-O

we stan lana. she hasn’t done much and she’s technically a bad guy i just love her

“at last we can be one” what does that even mean

why would lana or any of them want to help him he just killed one of their own for no reason hes clearly tripping on power and leaving yall to die

lfkgjdlkfgj flynn dodging so hard while the others is fight and then PUNCHING A GUY

dfglkjdflgkj wait it’s the professor dude why is that so funny

is he WITH THEM??? I think I just missed something

hold on a sec

yeah I think he just appears??? And flynn just fucking broke his nose iconic

wait so was he with them or is he just here going WHY ARE THERE RANDOM PEOPLE IN MY PYRAMID????????????

oh right he built the—ok I got it

Wait what

I mean I did think lana was neat and she seemed impressed with flynn but what shes just like, in love with him now? that makes zero fucking sense why would she want them to Be Together

Is it just so there can be a catfight between the two hot chicks?

seriously tho? morally pure blonde blue eyed girl versus Evil Asian Chick? really?

for the record NOT THAT IT MATTERS but lana is way cuter im just saying

ah badass judson

THE COMEDY OF THE CAPSTONE CRUSHING HIM DLFKGJDLKFGJ

oh………….pulling out excalibur…. predicable but so good

oh the painting….the very Parenty way of revealing it…… wholesome

oh did NOT like that transition

oh here comes the badass fucking entrance with his gf busting in on his mom trying to set him up with girls

HER ENTRANCE IS SO UNNECESSARAILY DRAMATIC I LOVE THEM

I just love the mom’s face ldfkgjldfkgjdlkfgjdlkfjgd shes like WHAT THEGUFVCJK

again I don’t love the vibes of “oh my weird loser son is finally normal!” but to be fair im exaggerating a bit from just facial expressions it’s just. sigh

but ngl the vindication of him being able to be like. yeah that’s right im a badass now and my gf is cool as fuck is still good

him and nicole do have not terrible vibes at the end but if I remember correctly that mission (time travelling ninjas and hg wells’s time machine) is the one that separated them so rip I guess

overall: good movie! as cringe as I remember but I still love flynn so much

[goron-king-darunia]

@hannikka Regarding a comment on this post. “i know this ask has nothing to do with me, but i will be honest with you, before you said to take this with a grain of salt i was going to fight you XD (not really, but still XD) because i definitely and actually fell in love as in real lovewhen i was very young and it lasted years, so i was horrified for a moment, but then again like you, said our experiences are not universa” Again, like I said, I have not been a child in a very long time and I am demisexual so my threshold for attraction is VERY different from the standard. I can only speak from my experiences as a child and what I’ve seen regarding other kids I’ve worked with. It’s not impossible to fall in love, real genuine love, as a kid. I just think that’s VERY rare for it to happen and it seems to be the exception rather than the rule. Obviously this is anectdotal rather than data driven and even then, in the USA, narratives involving children and romance are heavily sanitized because in the USA implying that children are people with feelings like adults is very scary strawberry territory for censors because god forbid we imply children are complex people. Even worse if we imply children and adults can be friends, good heavens. The USA tiptoes around intergenerational friendships like a plague corpse in the street because if something even remotely resembles pedophilia, it’s BAD. Like, the USA buries that shit so hard, to the point where when the Professor Layton games came out I was confused for the longest time about what relation Luke had to Layton because in the USA one does not simply just have a grown man mentoring a young boy that isn’t his son or a blood relative of some sort. Like... there were memes about Layton being a guy that kidnaps orphans because that, for some reason, seemed more probable than the actual explanation which is that Luke is the son of one of Latyon’s close friends, and he and Luke bonded over solving a mystery together in town. Hell, even Layton being adopted was kind of a revelation for me when that showed up in the narrative because the USA had a BAD track record of underrepresenting non-traditional family structures. So I’m sure my view on children is partially cultural as well. The USA doesn’t want to admit it but we’re STILL barely out of that old phase of “children should be seen and not heard” bullshit of treating kids like extensions of their parents and swung right around to some weird other extreme of “if we even acknowledge kids at all, we either make them wise beyond their years or infantalize them to hell and back because what even is a child anyway? Baby? Yeah, we know what that is. Helpless cinnamon roll that can never do anything bad ever. Teenager? Yeah we know what that is. That’s like that weird stage of development where you’re like an adult but with now power and lots of feelings and you’re terrible with everything. IDK if I just grew up overly sheltered (which is probably the case) but like... seeing all these new shows on Netflix that acknowledge that teenagers have sex feels... transgressive somehow. Like, I LIKE that we’re acknowledging it. Because we’ve known for ages it happens and clearly doing pearl-clutching and trying to pretend it doesn’t won’t stop teen pregnancy. But it feels so terribly RECENT that we’re actually not actively shoving that under the rug. The Lion King (the good animated one, not the CG one) firmly cemented in my head when I was a wee baby watching it that “friends” and “lovers” were separate categories (even though Nala and Simba are a couple, LOL) because like, yeah, thinking about getting married to my best friends was WEIRD (even at a time in my life when a lot of my friends were boys. XD) So I was totally with Simba when he was like “Ew, I can’t marry her! She’s my friend!” It’s really only been in recent years that the idea of friendship and romantic/sexual relationships aren’t mutually exclusive has become mainstream. Or at least, it’s only recently that I aged into a group where these stories were targeted. IDK, I feel like I’m getting into the weeds here and talking in circles. But the point is YES, I am totally only speaking from my own experiences here, I am 100% not an authority, I am only giving an opinion, and my opinion is largely shaped by experiences and media that are not universal by any means. XD. I was relatively sheltered, have conservative parents, was a neuroatypical child and still am neuroatypical as an adult, turned out to be demisexual which is pretty different considering most of the world is some flavor of allosexual, an I grew up in the USA where basically the only acceptable adult/child relationships are parent/child and teacher/student (and if you’re a teacher you’re on thin fucking ice, fucking YIKES) because the USA treats every other possible interaction between an adult and child as highly suspect. The only factors I have mitigating these views is that I’ve worked with kids and took developmental psychology in college. So I am aware children are a lot more complex than the culture in the USA gives them credit for being. Children aren’t some weird alien species. They’re largely just very tiny adults with very little power/little ability to act on their agency and very little experience. I have met 10 year olds I would trust more than I trust myself, honestly. Kids that are more mature than me and just... understand things I would definitely NOT have at the same age. So, like, again, I’m not saying it’s impossible for kids to fall in love. I’m just saying that usually kids aren’t concerned with that, and when they ARE, they’re usually practicing the particulars of love. but this is just from my own childhood and my limited experience working with grade school kids. Kids I worked with were far more interested in friendships than romances, and as a kid, my romantic interests were, like, Link from Ocarina of Time and I couldn’t decide if I liked fucking Knuckles the Echidna as a dad or as a boyfriend and I think I settled on dad material because I have an old old old illustrated story that I might have even uploaded here where Knuckles is my dad. XD So, like, for real, take my opinions with a FAT grain of salt because I am literally just a goofy goober and have been in exactly 2 romantic relationships and one of them only lasted a year. XD (The other is basically from college until now which is practically 10 years, but also largely long-distance so, like. Definitely not the usual experience. XD) But also, for real, if I say something controversial, weird, or just plain wrong, you can 100% feel free to fight me because I am an idiot and I say dumb shit all the time. That one debunked post that went around about the “Azhar Library bombing” is a big case in this. XD I am basically an educated adult child. I know some things, but more than anything I know enough to realized that I actually know VERY LITTLE and my whole life should be a learning experience. So I am absolutely not opposed to being wrong and getting taught things because that’s honestly half the reason I’m even remotely as good a person as I am today because I was a garbage kiddo and a garbage teenager and still probably a garbage young adult and was educated out of it. I have a lot of internalized beliefs that were changed because of college and listening to people online, and I can only learn more and grow more my having good friends throw down and fight me over stuff when I say a dumb thing. XD Literally I am probably only on the Left because good people educated me on politics when no one else would. I legit could have been one of those awful cases of a disenchanted teen that was led down the alt-right pipeline. Scary to think of but my parents weren’t teaching me so thankfully better people stepped up to do it. So, legit, you are welcome to fight me any time, man. I want to learn. I want to be inoculated against bad ideas and educated away from any bad opinions I hold.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Death Servitor Lore Pt 1

A response to this post about Death Servitors: this is not an exhaustive reference because it does not go into those deliberately created by Herzog, but it does pretty much cover those ‘traditional’ types of Death Servitor

There is more than one type of Death Servitor (aka Deadpool, Dead Servant, Dead Waiter):

Type one: Undead Zombie Deadpool, Awakened by Dragonkind with a special Word Spirit (EX Skill):

The rain splashed on Menek's face, drenching his hair. He and the Chinese man were less than half a foot apart, staring at each other's eyes, and the Yatcan long knife penetrated the opponent completely under Menek's all-out sprint, together with his solid metal armor. But this terrible penetrating injury was not fatal. The Chinese man's pupils were full of indifference and his hands held Menek's blade with great strength. 

The knife should go through the opponents heart, but the slightest heartbeat cannot be detected on the handle. 

"Deadpool!" 

Menek whispered, "It's a pity you can't be studied as a living body... you are already dead."Menek slowly drew the long  knife from the dead servants heart, letting the dead servant kneel at his feet, the flame reflecting the dead servant's body on the knife. The rain washed Menek's long knife and washed away the black blood from it. The silent north western Chinese men, a group of dead waiters, gathered from all around, surrounded the burning companions, silently revealed the sharp blades in their hands and untied their black ponchos

.Anjou: "My question is, who suggested to the Qing government to use the dragon "undead" as a force? Those who attack us? Those who can awaken Deadpool must have the same dragon blood as us.""...At the same time they transported a batch of deadpools of dragon blood to Hambug, and awakened them in Germany with the power of a Word Spirit"

Dragon Raja Prequel -- Wings of Mourning

Overwhelming fear suddenly surrounded Chu Zihang. He glanced at the speedometer at 120 kilometers per hour. Who can chase this Maybach on the elevated road while reaching out and knocking on the door?

The knock on the door rushed up, not alone, but three, five -- more and more figures gathered outside the car. They were covered with the rain water and stared at Chu Zihang condescendingly. A dazzling silver light came in from outside the window, illuminating the  pale faces of Chu Zihang and the man (his father). The man turned to look at Chu Zihang, trying his best to suppress the tremor in his voice, "Don't be afraid... son!"

The knock on the door turned into a harsh sound of a sharp object scratching on the steel and glass. Chu Zihang thought that it was the nails of the shadows.

The speed reached 180 kilometers per hour within a few seconds and it was still going on, because they could not get rid of those shadows. Mercury-silver light came in from all directions, and there were so many dark shadows surrounding the Maybach in the light. Standing silently like a group of death gods surrounding the bed of the dying. They opened their eyes together and their golden pupils were as bright as a torch.

Dragon Raja Two:  The Mourning Eyes

Type Two: Over threshold Hybrids turned Dragon Servants, called by dragons and oppose the the Secret party (Examples would likely include Mai Sakatoku, Enxi Su, and Renata (Zero)) Willing to die for their dragon Masters

Anjou: "The dragon gene is very special. Once the proportion exceeds 50% the dragon gene has the ability to change the human part of the gene. For this extremely aggressive gene, the human gene is inferior. After the dragon genes are revised again and again, eventually the hybrid will becomes very close to pure blood, the human part will be swallowed, and the dragon part will become more awakened.

Mingfei: "The result will become a pure blood dragon?"

Anjou: "It's infinitely close, but its never reachable. The principal sighed. "The Deadpool is also a sad race. They want to be pure bred, but they are different from real dragons. The true pure bred dragons are only ancient dragons. The ancient dragons regard these people as servants and drive them, but they don't recognize them. They look very much like humans and they are hard to be noticed in the crowd. Some of them have extremely long lifespans because of their blood. The purebred dragons will select some people from them. Transforming their bodies, making them between life and death. They hide their identities among generations of humans, waiting for the dragon kings to recover and prepare to meet them. In fact. They are our toughest enemies, as long as we are fully prepared, it is not difficult to kill a dragon king who is about to recover, but once the Deadpool interfere in the process, it will be very dangerous."

Menek: "Why? It is not easy for you to control the spirit of words like this. No matter how pure your blood is, it is not the ancient first generation or second generation dragon race, so you will be drained to death." Menek stepped back slowly, he did not expect his opponent to suddenly show a desperate offensive posture. This way of releasing power was poised to squeeze his opponent dry. He doesn't care about those deadpools. With Viscount Charlotte's flint lock and his Atcan long knife, the top elites of the secret party gather together. Deadpool does not have enough combat power without a leader and he has seriously injured the leader

.... "You say in Chinese you are 'burning the forest down to hunt?" Meneck said as he looked around, the dead waiters also approached at the same time, their bodies began to change, and their hands were stacked with scales, sharp as awls. The iron blue claws replaced the original hands. They seemed to be besieged by a pack of wolves, and the pack of wolves looked forward to the fresh meat.

"Because I can't go back to China, I knew before I set off that I have only one mission here, and you know it." The woman's (deadpool's) voice revolved with the storm, as if she rushed down from the sky carrying a majestic God.

"Dragon Raja Prequel -- Wings of Mourning

"But Rest assured, your dragon bloodline ratio does not exceed 50% and more than 50% of the students will not be admitted. Although their potential is far beyond ordinary people, the dragon bloodline will slowly assimilate them into dragon followers." Professor Guderian said.

Dragon Raja Book 1: Dawn of Fire

Type Three: Dragon Temple/Tomb Guardians (AKA Corpse Guard)

"Things in the legend. The corpses of dragons will not be corrupted for many years after death. The dragons use alchemy to concoct the corpses of their own kind and use them as guardians of the city. This is a forbidden technique, until the time of the ancient Egypt. The corpses of pharoahs and nobles were reprocessed with this technique in an attempt to make them immortal but they were only able to preserve the corpses, but failed to preserve the activity of nerves and muscles, so they could not create real walking corpses." Caesar said, "If this is a dragon city, the corpse must be buried vertically in the middle of the foundation, the blood of the embryo woke them up! Damn it! Some one must have done this deliberately. The Lenin rushed into the ruins with the embryo to activate this Ancient city!"

Chu Zihang saw from the observation window below, scarlet water mist gushing from the ground of the ruins, and the dragon blood flowing under the ruins filled the ground, and slender living creatures crawled out of the cracks in the ground. The cracks envelope these baby's after birth. Their bodies glowed with a metallic luster, and their pupils were ferocious golden. Because they were sleeping for too long, they could not get up, crawling on the seabed, twisting their slender lower body. But the body, after being nourished by the dragon blood immediately recovered its ancient strength,. They leaped suddenly, swinging their long tails and floating up quickly. "Snake tail... human body." Chu Zihang said softly, "These are not purebred dragon, they were also hybrids before when they were alive. This is not a dragon city, but it was built by the ancestors of today's hybrids!"

Dragon Raja III: Black Moon Tide

To be continued.....

[the-shadow-of-atlantis]

My Friend Got Turned Into A Werewolf

Part 7 Learning

Tagging: @melyaliz @dilpickledd @coffee-randomness @speedypan

A/N Red belongs to @melyaliz

There were only so many times Red could read the werewolf book, he was starting to get antsy staying in here and not being able to do much. It didn't help that Aquata also tended to hole herself up in her room most of the time. Turning on the tv Red began flipping through the channels when he felt his phone buzz. Checking the name on the phone he couldn’t help but be puzzled when he answered.

“Seamom?”

“Is it bad I’m glad you still call me that after all this time.” Annabella chuckled lightly.

“Well honestly I’m not sure what to really call you.” Red said sheepishly.

“Seamom is fine.”

“Alright but um why exactly are you calling me?”

“Oh your mother and I have some food that’s on the way and also I wanted to see how you're doing.”

“I’m okay, well as okay as I can be. I don’t know I’m trying to do research and see how I’m progressing but I… I’m not sure what I’m doing. I've asked Aquata since she’s dealt with things like this before but.” Red paused not sure what exactly he should say.

“Aquata has a tendency to focus on something in order to distract herself. However sometimes she focuses a little too much on the wrong thing.” Annabella sighed. “I was hoping being with a friend again would help her. Just keep trying to ask her for help, as much as she holds herself up she can’t help but be there for her friends.”

Red wasn't really sure how to take the second part of what Annabella said. She had hoped Aquata being with a friend would help. What did that mean?

"Sorry." Annabella said, bringing Red back. "I just can't help but worry so be ready for lots of food being sent."

"And we'll be here ready to eat it all." Red said. "And don't worry I'll keep an eye out on her."

"Thanks Red." Annabella sighed. "And take care of yourself too."

"I will. Thanks seamom." Red heard one last small laugh before the phone disconnected.

Putting the phone away Red began to make his way up the stairs when his body became alert and he turned towards the door. Without thinking he ran straight towards it only to be knocked backwards before he even reached the door.

He groaned as he felt his back and neck ache. There was a rushing of footsteps and suddenly Aquata was standing over him.

"What happened?" She asked her eyes flicking from him to around the cabin as if trying to spot danger.

"I dunno." Red groaned as he tried to get up. "I just ran towards the door?"

Aquata looked at him puzzled then there was a squawk that came from the other side of the door. Red perked up and growled at the noise making Aquata turn to look at him and then suddenly she was laughing. She was trying to compose herself but everytime it seemed like she was done she'd burst into another fit of laughs.

"I'm glad my pain amuses you." Red pouted, but he had to admit hearing her laugh was making his day. When was the last time he even heard her laugh?

"Oh gods I'm sorry I'm sorry." Aquata snickered as she straightened up.

However instead of helping Red she walked towards the door.

"There's a reason the mailman doesn't come too far into town. However it's a little hard to banish animals, I guess mom underestimated your transformation. Tyler didn't however it seems he added more runes to protect the house from your outbursts." Aquata said as she opened the door.

An eagle with a little blue vest was standing on top of a box. It flapped its wings and squawked again.

"Hello Harold." Aquata said, kneeling down and unclipped the package from his vest.

Red had gotten up and stood behind Aquata glaring down at the bird.

"Say hello to mom for me." Aquata said, patting his head.

Harold squawked and flapped his wings as he turned and took off. Red looked at the bird and sighed.

"Please tell me this doesn't last forever."

"Nah, you'll get used to it after a while. However I will admit Tyler stole a frisbee or two when we went on dates at the park." Aquata snickered.

Red stared at her wondering if she was just teasing him, however there was something about how naturally she said it that it almost seemed true.

Closing the door Aquata turned to go to the kitchen. And Red followed her quickly.

"Wait were you joking about the mailman and the frisbee?" He asked wondering if he sounded as stupid as he thought.

"I wish. There's a little mail center that wolves have to go to pick up their mail. Their houses are marked as "do not approach". One too many mailmen got chased in the early years of this town being settled and those cars don't drive fast enough." Aquata explained as she opened the package and pulled out seamoms famous mac and cheese casserole.

Red mouth began to water despite having eaten not too long ago. A loud grumble came from Aquatas stomach making both of them jump.

"I guess it's time to eat." Aquata laughed nervously as she turned to get plates.

Red stared at her puzzled, glancing up at the clock he realized it was way past lunch time. Quickly he walked over to the fridge only to find the lunches he'd been making for the past two days were completely untouched. How hadn't he noticed that?

"You haven't been eating lunch?" He asked turning around to see Aquatas place a large portion on her plate.

Aquatas opened her mouth as if to protest but upon seeing the fridge she quickly closed it.

"I lost track of time." She said lamely.

"Twice?" Red accused, pointing at the two pieces of tupperware.

"...yes." Aquatas sighed. "I have a lot to catch up on."

"That doesn't mean you should go around skipping meals."

"One meal. And I'm fine. See I'll take this up to my room and eat it."

"Uh uh." Red said quickly, blocking her exit.

"I," he started taking the plate from Aquata. "Am going to heat this up. You are gonna get your stuff and come down. And you will eat, if you take too long between bites I'm spraying you with water."

"You do know water doesn't affect me." Aquatas said, crossing her arms. But Red didn't budge.

"Fine." Aquatas caved letting her shoulders drop. "I'll be right back."

"You have until the microwave beeps." Red said, stepping aside to let her pass.

Ten minutes later Aquatas had her books and notebooks sprawled across the coffee table and the couch she was occupying. Her laptop was perched on a small tv tray table that Red was wondering where she had gotten it from.

Red nestled himself on the recliner and had the tv on low, he was starting to notice his ears would hurt if the tv was on too high. Every time the show would cut to commercial he would turn to look at Aquata and waited till she took a bite. One of the times he glanced over she caught sight of one of the books she was reading and tilted his head curiously.

“I didn't know you were studying to be a doctor.” He said looking at the medical book.

“I’m not.” Aquata said as she took the last bite from her plate.

Red scanned over the books trying to make sense of the mess. “It sure looks like it.”

“It's… complicated.” Aquata said, rubbing her head. Red looked at her expectedly, she sighed as she set her laptop to the side.

“Growing up you suffered from headaches right.” Red nodded turning around in his seat to face Aquata properly. “On a normal person they would chalk it up to migraines or just headaches from stress. However you were different yours were because of your powers. Now how often would you go to Starlabs only for them to estimate how much medicine you should really take or tell you to just learn to adapt to your powers?”

“Pretty much every time.” Red said, realizing she was expecting a real answer.

“I was in a lot of sports growing up besides doing our missions and my sister did dance. Our injury count was a lot higher than normal. A kid gets injured playing a sport they get sent to a doctor who then probably sends them to a physical therapist if they need to recover and call it a day. My sister and I got hurt and we jumped between labs trying to figure out the best way to treat us. We’re generation three going on four and science hasn’t caught up to metahuman treatment. The classes I’m in, the course that I’m taking, has barely been active since I’ve started. It's basically a mass learning center trying to learn everything and anything regarding metahumans, aliens, atlanteans, and mixed species. How to apply human medical knowledge so that we can start making clinics and medical facilities to help treat everyone properly.”

Red nodded taking everything in. “And how does this not make you a doctor?”

Aquata smiled sheepishly. “I'm only learning enough to be a physical/massage therapist. I don't think I have the patience to become an actual doctor. Besides sport and hero injuries are something I can understand.”

“Wait you said this program has barely been around since you started?”

“Perks of having a rich grandfather is that he’s willing to drop a lot of money for a good cause.” Aquata said, smiling as she looked down.

“I'm sure if you were to talk to the professor he’d be willing to make a donation.” Red said suddenly not sure why he wanted to help in some way.

“Oh he has.” Aquata said looking up. “About a few months after we opened up he reached out and even offered some professors to help.”

“So that’s where McCoy has been sneaking off to. Oh man I owe Jackson money.”

“What did you think he was doing?” Aquata asked.

“We thought he had a secret girlfriend somewhere. Leave it to him to be such a nerd. What?” Red asked noticing the smile on Aquatas face.

“Oh I’m not saying anything.” Aquata said, grabbing her laptop.

“You know something.” Red accused.

“I plead the fifth.” Aquata said focusing on her laptop. “And don't even think about it.”

“Think about what?” Red said, trying to look innocent.

“Probing minds is rude.”

“What’s rude is you being able to know what I’m thinking and I can never get a read on you, and I’m the mind reader.” Red said exasperated.

“How do you do it?” Red asked so seriously it threw Aquata off. It was strange how much more serious he could get now. “Ever since I’ve known you your mind has always been so quiet. At first I thought maybe you’re just different, but I’m starting to get the feeling you're actively shutting me out.”

“You really shouldn’t take it so personally.” Aquata said, trying to smile reassuringly. “My family has had a bad track record when it comes to our minds. My dad got brain blasted by Miss Martian when he was working as a double agent, he needed to get his mind reconstructed from scratch. My mom was kidnapped by a stalker who put her under a spell that made her bend to his will. My dad had to go into her mind to help her break free of it. My grandfather started teaching us from a young age how to protect our minds, how to shield it, make it harder for anyone to try and break in. After what happened to Shaylee I worked harder to strengthen mine. It's better this way.”

Red was about to ask what she meant by that last part when her phone began to ring.

“Hey Tyler what’s up?” Aquata asked as she answered the phone. “Oh… okay I'll let him know. Thanks, bye.”

“What happened?” Red asked, he had tried to avoid over hearing what Tyler might’ve said.

“Your trial has been set for tomorrow.”

[firebrands]

acta non verba

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, T, college AU, 2.5k words

fill for stony bingo prompt: gladiator

also onao3

*

There are few things in academia that Tony actively dislikes, and being called to his lab advisor’s office after class is definitely one of them.

 Tony fidgets as he stands in front of his professor’s large oak table.

 “You can sit,” Dr. Pym says, motioning to the couch across his table. Tony doesn’t move, hoping that by standing up, they can keep this discussion short.

 “After the explosion last week—” his professor starts, and Tony immediately opens his mouth to defend himself. Unfortunately, Pym has spent a sufficient amount of time with Tony, and raises a finger to silence him before Tony can make a sound. “—we believe that the best way you can give back to the school is to serve your mandatory hours tutoring,” he finishes.

 A moment passes. 

 “I would rather die,” Tony says emphatically.

 “Spare me the theatrics, Tony,” Pym says, sighing. “Just two hours, twice a week. We have some engineering, math, and physics students who’ll do this as well, so you’ll only have one tutee.”

 “From where?” Tony grinds out. “Can’t I just… make a program to teach math…?” he asks hopefully.

 “While that would be fantastically helpful, I don’t want you spending more time on something that can be solved by just showing up,” Pym says primly. He pushes a piece of paper across his desk. “We’re having the orientation tomorrow morning.”

 Tony wants to throw a tantrum, because morning? Tutoring? Tutoring in the morning? But he also knows that battles with Pym rarely ever end in his favor, so he doesn’t. 

 Instead, he finds satisfaction in slamming Pym’s door as he leaves.

 *

 Tony, after two years in university, has come to realize that a lot of it is about weighing costs. This is what he tells himself as he takes two steps at a time to get to the assigned room Pym had given him. It’ll be even more annoying if I don’t do this, Tony reassures himself, as he pulls open the door.

 “Nice of you to join us,” says Pym coolly. He motions to an empty chair, and Tony sags into it, breathless from his mad dash from his dorm room to the classroom. Tony doesn’t have time to survey the rest, instead focuses on blinking away the spots in his vision. Too early to be this tired , he thinks.

 Pym talks about the importance the school gives on providing support for all students, or something, Tony isn’t really paying attention, even if his condition has stabilized.

 “Since you’re all from different colleges, we’ve partnered you up.” A table flashes on screen with their names. “Let’s go around the room introducing ourselves.”

 Tony rolls his eyes and plays videogames on his phone as people introduce themselves. Eventually, he’s called to stand. “Tony,” he says, then sits back down.

 Eventually, people stand to introduce themselves; again, Tony isn’t really paying attention, until someone hovers beside him awkwardly.

 “Hi,” says the hoverer.

 Tony sighs, and looks up, meaning to say “hi,” in the least friendly way possible just because it’s 9AM and no one should ever be friendly in the morning.

 He meant to say that.

 Now he’s just staring at the beautiful, blonde, buff guy standing beside him. His shirt is a size too small, and Tony wants to write a check to whoever told him that it was the right fit. Good lord, Tony thinks. And then the rational part of his brain, small as it is, finally catches up with him.

 “Hey,” Tony says, doing his best to sound suave.

 “I’m Steve,” he says, offering a hand. Tony shakes it. A good grip. A good hand. Oh, god. His thoughts on Steve’s hand stutter to a halt when Steve tells him what he’s taking.

 “An art student?” Tony scoffs. 

 Said art student raises an eyebrow in response.

 “Why are you even taking a math class?” 

 “It’s part of the curriculum?” Steve’s brows knit together and that’s when Tony realizes: hey, he’s even cuter when he’s annoyed.

 “Okay well I’m only ever free Tuesday and Thursday evening,” Tony says. 

 Steve bites his lip and looks irritated. “Fine. I can move stuff around. You better be fucking great at math,” he huffs.

 “Oh darling, I’m fucking great at a lot more than math,” Tony smirks.

 Steve, god bless him, blushes.

 *

 Steve’s late for their first session. They’d chosen the study hall for their lessons; it was situated right at the midway point between their two colleges, and it was usually only filled up by quiet freshmen (the library, on the other hand, was filled with over caffeinated seniors, which didn’t sound very productive to be around).

 Tony’s scribbling calculations about the battery he’d been trying to figure out when Steve comes rushing in. “Sorry I’m late, but I got you coffee to make it up to you,” Steve says, and Tony hides a smile by taking a sip of coffee.

 Steve’s wearing a dark blue henley that brings out the color in his eyes and Tony thinks that he should probably inform Dr. Pym that he is no longer qualified to tutor as he’s going to lose his damn mind.

 When Steve starts solving the problems on the worksheet Tony prepared,  Tony sends Rhodey a message: Oh no. hes stupid cute.

Rhodey immediately responds: ur so dumb istg

 Steve touches Tony’s arm to get his attention. “Okay, I don’t understand how you got from this,” he motions to his calculations, “to this,” he finishes, pointing at the equation Tony had written out.

 Tony stares at the problem equation, then casts a glance at Steve’s hand on his arm. He wants Steve’s hand everywhere, he thinks, with a hint of mania. 

 Steve follows Tony’s gaze and snatches his hand away. Tony tries not to weep at the loss, and instead writes out step by step how he got to the solution.

 After an hour, Tony stands up to get another cup of coffee, and he’s so distracted by the weight of Steve’s hand on his arm that now he can’t remember where they were sitting. Tony peers around and spots Steve resting his face on his palm, seemingly lost in thought.

 Tony stares, memorizing the slant of his nose, the soft curl of his lips.

 And then he walks straight into the glass door.

 Thankfully, the coffee is safe. Tony’s reputation, not so much: everyone had turned to look, and Steve covers up a laugh with his hand.

 “Don’t laugh, do your worksheet,” Tony hisses, sitting back down beside Steve.

 Steve continues to chuckle as he does his calculations. 

 Now it’s Tony’s turn to cover his mouth with his hand, horrified by how fond his smile is.

 *

 “Earth to Tony!”

 Tony looks up from his laptop, where he was preparing a new worksheet for Steve. “What?”

 Rhodey frowns. “I was asking what you wanted to get for lunch.”

 “Whatever you’re getting, honeybear,” Tony responds absently, still tweaking equations as Rhodey huffs and walks away.

 Tony’s reviewing the worksheet when Rhodey comes back with their meals and gently pushes down the monitor of Tony’s laptop to get his attention.

 “Okay! Okay already!” Tony screeches, snatching his laptop away from Rhodey’s reach and saving the file before folding it shut. “Jeez,” he says.

 “Didn’t think you’d have it this bad,” Rhodey smirks, digging into his mashed potatoes.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony sniffs, removing the plates of food from his tray and arranging them on the table. “It’s—it’s not that big of a deal,” he says. “Totally harmless, he’ll be out of my hair in a few months.”

 “You guys are a walking thinkpiece about the need to bridge the gap between STEM and humanities,” Rhodey says, rolling his eyes.

 *

 Tony spends more and more time with Steve, eventually meeting his friends (and vice versa). It’s nice, mostly because having more friends means more people forcing him out of the lab and forcing him to live a life, which—it’s nice.

 None of these things matter, of course, at 3 in the afternoon on a Saturday, where Tony is sitting on the floor of Rhodey’s dorm room with his head in his hands.

 Thor pats Tony’s head consolingly. “You could try and talk to him?”

 “He doesn’t like me that way, okay?” Tony’s voice is small, muffled by his position.

 Rhodey groans. “Everyone can see it,” he says.

 “That he doesn’t like me?” Tony asks despairingly. 

“No, that he does like you,” Thor says, rubbing Tony’s back. “Like, everyone. Both sides.”

 Tony curls even deeper into himself. “Yeah, but you’re all idiots,” he mewls.

*

The October air is crisp with the onset of autumn, and Steve lets out an exasperated puff of breath as he pulls up the blanket draped over his shoulder. Sam raises an eyebrow in response.

 Behind them, Bucky slams the door to their apartment shut with a triumphant woop, and begins hustling Steve and Sam down the street: “Let’s go! ”

 Steve’s toes are cold in the night air, and he has never hated Halloween more in his life. Yes, even more than that one time his mom and Bucky’s mom had plotted against him and dressed the two of them up as Woody and Buzz, forcing them to go around the neighborhood much to ten year old Steve’s chagrin.

 “I hate costumes so much ,” Steve whines, and it’s likely the fifth time he’s said it this evening alone, but it bears repeating. Sam and Bucky roll their eyes in tandem. 

 *

 Thor’s house is noisy and cramped and Steve bites down hard on any more complaints, instead making a beeline for the kitchen. Sam and Bucky follow after him, carrying a bottle of tequila and vodka each. 

 Of course, the kitchen isn’t any better—in fact, it’s worse. Still, Steve needs a drink, or fifty, to make this night somewhat bearable. The things he did for his friends, really.

 Thor is in the kitchen, dressed as a pirate (wide brimmed hat and eyepatch included). He’s talking to a guy dressed up as a gladiator, wearing a gold chestplate on top of red robes, and as they approach, Steve realizes who it is.

 “Tony!” Bucky grins, draping an arm around the shorter man and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Tony smiles up at him and the disentangles himself to give Sam a quick hug. “Elvis and… hot professor?” Tony asks, turning from Bucky to Sam, respectively. 

 Sam is clearly taken aback, but before he can correct Tony, Bucky says, “and obviously you went above and beyond with the costume again.”

 Tony preens, and Steve has to wrench his eyes away from the way muscles in Tony’s arms flex as he wipes nonexistent dust off his chest plate. “What can I say? Not all of us can come in wearing a blanket and look as good as him,” he says as he nods at Steve, who's wearing a toga and a crown made of fake golden laurel leaves. 

 “Ugh,” Steve says, eloquent as ever.

 Tony takes this as an opportunity to keep teasing. 

 “Oh boys,” Tony says as he’s approaching Steve, “did you oil him up?” He traces a finger down Steve’s bicep.

 Steve flinches away. 

 Sam laughs. “That’s just his sweat,” he says. 

 Now it’s Tony’s turn to laugh and Steve fights down a blush as he begins looking around for something to drink. 

 *

 So the party’s pretty fun, and it was a blessing in disguise that Steve was barely wearing anything. It’s so crowded in the house, and everyone is sweating. 

 Steve bends down to pull out a beer from one of the coolers stationed strategically around the house and when he straightens back up, Tony’s standing right in front of him. Steve, momentarily disoriented by how stupidly hot Tony is, hands him his bottle of beer.

 Tony, the unflappable flirt, winks at Steve.

 Steve’s however many drinks in, so it’s not his fault that he’s flustered. It’s awful, how flustered he is. 

 Tony laughs, and blows him a kiss as he’s walking away.

 Steve turns to the cooler and briefly considers just dunking his head into the ice water.

 *

 Natasha passes Steve the joint, angling her head away from him as she blows out a cloud of smoke. 

 She juts her chin forward, motioning at the general area where Tony is currently talking to Bucky. Tony looks regal, which is crazy considering he’s wearing sandals, to match the rest of his costume. Still, Steve lets his eyes wander over the expanse of exposed flesh. Tony’s legs, Tony’s arms—Steve swallows as he checks out Tony’s ass.

 “You two should take a picture. It’s cute,” she says, jolting Steve out of his thoughts. Natasha smirks, fully aware of what Steve was doing.

 Steve does not deign to respond, and scowls at her as he takes a hit.

 “Why are you so huffy?” Natasha asks, rolling her eyes.

 “It’s just like,” Steve says, passing her the joint, “you know! He’s just fucking with me.”

 Natasha’s face crumples with disbelief. “You are so dumb.”

 *

 Steve is leaning back on the couch, watching the strobe lights make patterns on the ceiling. He’s having fun, even if he’s just seated with his legs sprawled out in front of him. This is what a good time is like, for Steve: a little tipsy, a little stoned, and very comfortable. He’s not really into parties, much less costume parties, but Sam and Bucky had forced him to come. But they all shared in the knowledge that Steve only agreed because he knew Tony would probably be at Thor’s party, too.

 After a while, Steve gets bored of the lights and he toys idly with the label of his beer bottle, and startles out of his concentration when Tony flops down beside him.

 “Hey,” he says. “You good?”

 “Yeah.” Steve smiles slowly and nods at him. 

 Tony leans against Steve’s bare arm and Steve has never felt so happy to be in costume in his life, he thinks serenely. He hazards resting his hand on Tony’s leg, reassuring himself that if Tony said anything, Steve would just laugh it off and say he was drunk and high (which is sort of true). 

 Thankfully, Tony doesn’t say anything. Instead, he spreads his legs a bit wider, pressing his thigh against Steve’s. 

 Steve lets out a shaky breath. 

 Tony turns to look up at him, his chin resting on Steve’s shoulder. Their eyes meet, and they stare at each other for a moment; Steve can feel Tony’s shallow breaths, can smell the alcohol on him, along with a hint of tobacco. Where would Tony have a pocket to keep cigarettes? Steve thinks, as he continues to chart the plains and valleys of Tony’s face, from the thick lines of his eyebrows to the soft swell of his lips. Steve bites his lip, and he sees that Tony’s eyes flick down at the movement.

 Tony looks up at him again, and he offers Steve a small, apologetic smile.

 “I want to kiss you,” he whispers.

 Steve smiles and leans forward, finally locking their lips together. 

[roman-writing]

two, across (5/8)

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Hilda Valentine Goneril / Lysithea von Ordelia

Rating: T

Wordcount: 7,492

Summary: Lysithea can barely keep afloat under the workload of giving undergrad lectures and finishing off her PhD thesis. Meanwhile Dr. Hilda V. Goneril is somehow both the laziest person as well as the most successful young professor she has ever known. It’s absolutely aggravating.  

Read it here on AO3 or read it below the cut

The fact that Lysithea manages to last nearly four hours at the bar after her epiphany is nothing short of valiant. She spends a great deal of that time stealing furtive glances at Hilda, who eventually notices and teases her with a rakish smile and a quip of: "Do I have something on my face? Or am I just that good looking?"

Whereas normally Lysithea would have rolled her eyes and fired back with a sarcastic remark, now she flushes and changes the topic as quickly as possible. Hilda laughs, but lets it go, which allows Lysithea to breathe easier. If she had continued to tease, Lysithea doesn't know what she would have done. 

As it is, Hilda invites her over, and looks disappointed but not unhappy when Lysithea declines. 

"I should probably make sure my flatmates remember what I look like," Lysithea says. 

Hilda gives a theatrical sigh. "Their gain is my loss. I'll see you later, then!"

When they part at the train station, Lysithea thinks that's the end of that for the evening, but then Hilda pops up on a different platform in full view. They end up miming at each other across the tracks, until Lysithea hears a train coming, at which point her phone buzzes in her pocket. Lysithea fires back a few texts of her own until her train pulls up along the platform. 

As she sits down and the doors close, she can still see Hilda bowed over her own phone on the platform over. Lysithea's phone pings in her hand and vibrates. She tightens her hold around it, and watches Hilda for as long as she can until the train carries her away down the tracks. 

Somehow it feels like she's left her stomach behind on the platform.

That heavy sensation in her gut doesn't go away when she arrives back at her own apartment. When she steps inside, Raphael pokes his head out of his room, having to duck down so as not to smack his forehead against the lintel. His face brightens with pleased surprise at the sight of her taking off her shoes in the entryway.

"Hey! Lysithea's actually back! Hey, Lysithea!"

"Hi," she waves at him, trying to summon up a smile that she knows must appear glum in spite of her best efforts.

He ducks through the door, concern written across his face. "What's wrong? I thought you and the dean had solved everything, and you were submitting today?"

"No, no. Everything's fine," Lysithea lies. "I submitted today."

In response, her flatmate gives a great whoop, and lifts her off the ground in a bear hug that leaves her gasping past a few crushed ribs. She pats him on the back until he lets her go.

"Well done! That's so exciting! Hey, Ignatz! Did you hear?" Raphael sets her down on the ground, and immediately races off, barging into Ignatz's room to deliver the good news. 

Lysithea takes the opportunity to sneak off to her own room, and shut the door. She leans against the door, her head falling back and her eyes falling shut. She takes a long moment to steady her breathing, but it does nothing to slow the hammering of her heart in her chest. 

Her phone buzzes in her pocket, and her heart rate doubles in an instant. Cautiously, Lysithea unlocks her phone. A surge of mingled relief and disappointment floods through her when she sees that it's Edelgard texting her this time. 

The fact that she's disappointed makes her irritated at herself. She sends a reply to Edelgard confirming that her thesis was submitted, and gets back an immediate text that's just a single exclamation point. 

Briefly, Lysithea considers ringing Edelgard up and telling her about her latest revelation, but the very idea makes her face redden. Instead, she drops her bag onto the ground, walks over to her bed -- which has remained pristine and untouched for ages now -- and flops facefirst onto the mattress. 

Her phone buzzes and chimes again. Lysithea groans into the sheets. For a moment she doesn't move. Then, sluggish, she glances at what texts she has received in the last forty seconds. 

Hilda has sent through a blurry picture of her laptop on her bed, a tub of Lysithea's favourite flavoured ice cream, and the latest big horror show on Netflix. The very title screen of the show makes a prickle of fear run down Lysithea's spine. The picture is captioned with: 'Look at what you're missing out on' 

She furiously sends back an answering text. 'You are an asshole.' 

Hilda laughs in return, and even though it's all in the form of way too many emojis, Lysithea can still hear the ghost of her laughter as though she were back at Hilda's apartment, sitting beside her on the bed. 

Lysithea flings her phone further away on her own mattress, and grabs a pillow so she can bury her head in it. It doesn't help. 

Later that night, it takes her forever to fall asleep. Everything about her own room feels off, like she's sleeping in a stranger's house. She tosses and turns, until finally, grumbling all the while, she creates a vaguely human-shape in the bed beside her with a number of spare pillows. Pillow-Hilda lacks the warmth of the real deal. 

Lysithea hates the fact that she has allowed herself to grow so accustomed to sleeping beside another person. 

--

The weekend passes without incident. Lysithea is at a loss for how to fill her time now that she no longer has to worry about her thesis. She finishes her lecture notes and power point presentations for the entire next week, and then twiddles her thumbs until she finally relents and keys in her phone's passcode.

There are a heap of texts and replies from both Hilda and Edelgard. Her thumb hovers a phone number. She chews anxiously on her lower lip for a solid minute, before gathering up enough courage to actually hit the button.

The dial tone rings a few times, and Lysithea is tempted to hang up and pretend that nobody is going to answer. But then Edelgard picks up.

"Congratulations again," Edelgard says by way of a greeting, and her voice is warm.

"Thank you." 

Lysithea is sitting on the couch in the living room. Ignatz is at the art studio, Raphael is at practice, and Marianne is sleeping off her night shift. Lysithea sits on one of her hands, her knees squeezed tightly together, and her heels drumming against the base of the couch. 

There must be something in the tone of Lysithea's voice that clues her in, for Edelgard suddenly sounds sharp and serious. Business mode activated. "Is there something wrong?" 

"No, no!" Lysithea lies. "It's just - It's Hilda."

"What about her?" Edelgard's words are wary. "What has she done?"

"Nothing! She's -! She's great! She's -"

Brilliant. Talented. Funny. Gorgeous. Completely out of her league.

Lysithea has to pause for a moment before she can trust herself to speak without giving it all away. “I only wanted to call to see what you think of her.”

“What I think of her? You realise I’ve never met her, and have only ever spoken to her a handful of times on the phone.” 

“...Yes?”

Edelgard does not answer immediately, and for a brief moment Lysithea fears the connection may have dropped. Then -

“My first impression was that Hilda is far more cunning than she lets on, but also that she has a loyal streak that is hard-earned and runs a mile wide,” Edelgard says with the kind of clinical precision she always employs when discussing stock prices or the abysmal state of the economy. “Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?”

"No particular reason."

"Somehow, I don't believe you," says Edelgard dryly.

"It's not -! It's nothing. Really. Just a stupid crush that will pass."

"A crush," Edelgard repeats.

Even hearing it repeated makes Lysithea's cheeks heat up. God, but it sounds so dumb. A crush. She feels like she's sixteen again, except without the impending threat of death looming over her shoulder.

“Haven’t you been living in her apartment?” Edelgard asks.

“Not technically!” 

“Lysithea.”

Lysithea whines. “Don’t say my name like that.”

“You’re even starting to sound like her, you know.”

“Okay. I’m hanging up now.”

"Wait," Edelgard sighs. "In all honesty, I thought you two were having some sort of casual relationship."

Lysithea jerks the phone away from her to stare at it, before putting it back to her ear and saying incredulously, "When have you ever known me to do anything casual?"

"Alright, that's a fair point."

There's the sound of other faint voices down the other line, then a door opening and closing in the background, as though Edelgard were moving to another room. "And you want my opinion on the matter, do you?"

"Well -" Lysithea plays with the frayed seam of the couch's armrest. "Yes. I suppose I do."

"I think you could do a lot worse."

Frowning, Lysithea asks, "What does that even mean?"

"It means: I personally have very high standards, but I still think she’s a decent sort. It’s not my call, and I will of course support whatever decision you make."

"You're very unhelpful."

Lysithea can hear the exasperation in Edelgard's voice, "Fine. Don't date her, then."

"That's not -!” Lysithea splutters, but can’t admit allowed that that’s the very last thing she wants to do.

"Did you really just call me to confirm what you already know? You have obviously already made up your mind."

"Yeah, but -" Lysithea swallows past an obstruction in her throat. She has begun to pick the thread completely out of its stitching in the couch. It unravels beneath her nervous fingers. "-you know I can't just do that."

For a moment there's silence on the other end. Then Edelgard says softly. "I understand that this may be new territory, but -"

"That's - That's not it. Well, it sort of is." Lysithea sucks in a deep breath, then admits. "I really like her, El."

A long pause follows that statement, and then Edelgard says an emphatic, "Ah."

“You know how it is. I never put much stock in romantic liaisons because -” Lysithea fumbles over how to phrase it in the least macabre way possible, “well, because I always believed the future was no place for me. Becoming involved with someone would be cruel to both parties involved, and one night stands with strangers aren’t exactly my style.”

Edelgard listens quietly, before replying. “But now the prognosis isn’t nearly so grim. We have time. Not as much as we might like, but it’s more than I, for one, ever expected. You shouldn’t give up on chasing the future.”

"Yeah," Lysithea says lamely. She grimaces at how non-committal she sounds even to her own ears. 

"You should talk to her."

"That," Lysithea says, "sounds even more terrifying than returning to the hospital."

"That bad?"

"That bad."

In the background of Edelgard's call, a door creaks open, and Hubert's voice murmurs something. Edelgard's answer is muffled as she places a hand over her phone, and then returns to crystal clarity once more. 

"You have to go," Lysithea prompts before Edelgard can even say anything.

"In just a moment, yes. But I am glad you called, actually. One of our directors lives out your way, and I've arranged for the next board meeting to take place at our building in the city. I should be able to take a bit of time out of my day for a personal visit."

At that, Lysithea perks up. "Really?"

Edelgard chuckles, a low, rich sound. "Yes. I'm only there for a weekend, but I figured we ought to celebrate you finishing your thesis."

"It's still undergoing examination," Lysithea points out. "It's a pass fail, you know. I might not -"

"You will. If it's you, I know you will," Edelgard says firmly. 

"What weekend?"

"Week after next."

Lysithea can feel herself smiling. "That sounds great. I can meet you wherever."

"Fantastic. Bring Hilda."

Lysithea's mouth goes dry. "Wh - What?"

"You heard me. And go talk to her, or else I will call her myself."

"You wouldn't dare. Edelgard. Edelgard!"

The only response is the beep of the call ending. 

--

Lysithea doesn't ring Hilda. In fact, she does not speak to Hilda until the next morning, which in theory doesn't sound like a long time, but in practice is quite a long time for them. She is mildly surprised and concerned that her phone hasn't been lit up with texts or phonecalls for the remainder of her Sunday. She guesses that Hilda is either lazing the day away at her apartment, or out with some of her other friends.

Come Monday morning however, Lysithea sticks staunchly to routine. It would feel strange not to at this point. She arrives at the ground floor of the university with two coffees in hand. As she rounds the corner to the elevators, an irrational spike of fear streaks through her. Perhaps Hilda won't be there. Perhaps she has already messed this up somehow. Perhaps Hilda is already growing bored; she gets bored so easily, after all. It's possible, Lysithea convinces herself.

"Heyoo!" Hilda waves at her by the elevators. The button to call one of the elevators has already been pressed. Hilda makes a grabby motion towards one of the coffees in Lysithea's hands like she's a man happened upon in the desert and dying of thirst. "Ohhh, you have no idea how much I need coffee this morning."

Lysithea hands over the cup. She tries to act casual. "Did you have a good rest of your weekend."

"Meh," Hilda shrugs. "Same old. Same old. Thought about doing laundry. Didn't do it. Went out for a bit. Worked out for a bit. Thought about working on another article. Made some jewelry instead."

The elevator doors open. They both step inside. "How many articles are you going to finish this year?" Lysithea asks, genuinely curious about the answer. She hits the button for the second floor and the elevator doors slid shut.

"Only three."

"Only three," Lysithea repeats, rolling her eyes. The floor counter rapidly rises as they are carried up the various levels of the building. 

Hilda gives a dramatic sigh. "Yes. I'm a shame to my people."

"Who? Sasquatches?" 

"You joke, but like -- yeah. Honestly. I keep forgetting you've never met my family," Hilda says around the lip of her takeaway cup as she takes a sip. "You really should. Then you'll understand."

"Alright," Lysithea says before she can pause to think about the implications of it. 

Hilda pauses and glances over at her. Slowly, she lowers her coffee cup. Behind her pink-lensed sunglasses her eyes rove downwards to Lysithea's chest. It is so blatant that Lysithea blinks in surprise. 

When Hilds takes a step towards her, Lysithea goes tense, but Hilda only reaches up with her free hand, and touches the sweater clip at the end of one of Lysithea's shirt collars. 

"I told you this would look nice on you," Hilda says. 

She toys with the fine gold chain between thumb and forefinger for a moment. Lysithea is frozen in place, unable to move. She almost does something very foolish and impulsive and quite unlike herself, when she is saved by the elevator doors announcing that they have arrived at their floor.

With a smile, Hilda lets go and walks through the elevator doors, leaving Lysithea standing there, heart pounding in her chest like she had just run a half marathon.

She is so flustered for the remainder of the day that she forgets to invite Hilda to lunch with Edelgard. 

--

Over the course of the week, Lysithea debates with herself whether she should even bring Hilda along to meet Edelgard. It doesn't help that Hilda is somehow more distracting than ever. She is sure that Hilda has changed nothing about her behaviour; it is just that Lysithea now notices every little thing that Hilda does. She is convinced that Hilda has always been so liberal with physical touch, but it's difficult to think whenever Hilda catches her staring and flashes a self-satisfied smile.

On Wednesday, Lysithea dares to bring to work the small makeup kit Hilda had given her ages ago. She had thought to try its various products on in her own bathroom, but she has to share one bathroom in her apartment between four people, and it's difficult enough for her to try putting on mascara for only the third time in her life when Raphael is pounding on the door groaning that he's going to be late.

Instead, she sneaks into one of the nice staff bathrooms at the university. The ones that have no stalls, and are just a single private restroom with an enormous mirror and enough bench space that she doesn't have to put her bag on the tiled floor. Pulling out the small makeup kit, Lysithea opens it and then gazes down at its contents, trying to recall all the advice she’d been given. 

Mostly she remembers Hilda touching her face while she had applied the makeup, but not much in the way of Hilda's actual instructions at the time. She had watched a few videos online however, and pulls out foundation and an appropriate brush. 

It's still far more difficult to do than Hilda had made it seem. Then again, Hilda was well versed in these kinds of things, and Lysithea had never wasted precious time with appearances when in the past she had to make every hour count. Now, trying to learn these things as an adult makes her feel clumsy and flustered. 

Lysithea takes her time. She applies a light and even layer of foundation, but then hesitates over eyeshadow. 

What was it Hilda had said? Bold makeup for stage, and subtle makeup for intimate interactions? A concept which only confronted her with the fact that she very much wanted to have ‘intimate interactions’ with Hilda, whose bed she had been sharing for weeks if not longer, but which she had never considered before this moment. 

Lysithea has to pause to collect herself; she nearly dies of mortification right there over the sink. 

Finally, she just picks a colour at random. Something subtle. Not too much colour unless someone were to stand very close and look at her. Eyeliner, mascara, and then Lysithea is packing everything away before her presence is either noticed as missing, or someone else needs the restroom.

Later in the afternoon, Hilda knocks on the door to Lysithea's office before pushing it open without waiting for an answer. She strides in, idly fiddling with a pen, and sits on the desk beside where Lysithea had been typing away at her computer. 

"Hey! I was just going to -" Hilda breaks off what she was going to say, and leans closer with a glint in her eye. “Ohh! Is that purple eyeshadow from one of the samples I gave you? What’s the occasion?” She gives the pen a mischievous twirl between her fingers. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

Lysithea can feel her cheeks burn, but she doesn’t push her chair away from the table. “There’s no guy.” 

“Girl, then. Or -- you know --” Hilda clicks the pen multiple times, “- person. Whatever.”

“Why does there have to be a person at all?”

“Dressing up just to feel nice?” Hilda taps the pen against the underside of Lysithea’s chin, and winks. “You really are taking my advice! And here I thought you never listened to me.”

Lysithea snatches the pen from Hilda’s fingers. “I listen when you say something worth listening to. And this is mine!”

Hilda just shrugs. “Yeah, I stole it from you two months ago. Thought you would’ve noticed sooner, to be honest.” She pushes off from Lysithea’s desk, and starts walking down the hallway, talking all the while. “Anyway, let’s get coffee before your big date. I need caffeine before facing the horrible gremlins in Chem 104.”

“There’s no date!” Lysithea insists, but she is already following Hilda past the communal office kitchenette and lounge area.  

"Why not? I thought you were sooo 'dateable'."

"That's -! I mean -! I am!"

“I’m very convinced right now,” Hilda says dryly.

Normally they had their conversations at work in the morning when nobody else was around. Now however the offices are scattered with people, and the two of them are beginning to attract a few stares. Or maybe it is just the first time Lysithea notices that other people are noticing them. Indeed, at least one of their colleagues just shakes his head with a rueful chuckle and returns to marking a stack of papers. 

It strikes her then that if Edelgard had thought she and Hilda we're dating -- even casually -- that others might, too. Lysithea seems to be the last person on the planet to know.

--

By the time the weekend comes around, Lysithea starts making up excuses as to why she can’t go over to Hilda’s apartment like she used to. At first it’s easy. Everyone in her apartment is lending a hand for a big spring clean, now that the snows have started to melt away and they can actually put things outside. Then, there's an apartment inspection by the landlord's agent that she needs to be present for, because all of her other flatmates have other commitments at that time. Not to mention, Lysithea wants to catch up on writing her lectures, so she doesn't have to do them so last minute during the week.

Hilda never complains, or even seems to mind. She accepts every reason -- even the most screwball excuses Lysithea can think of on the spot -- with a laugh and the promise to catch up some other time. 

Eventually, Lysithea knows she will just have to grit her teeth and talk, but for now it's much easier to avoid having any sort of serious conversation. The very idea makes her feel sick. It's a new sensation; nothing about Hilda has ever made her feel ill before. And yet somehow it's better than the possibility that the moment Lysithea admits any sort of deeper feeling, Hilda would laugh, or scoff, or be scornful, or worse. 

At least she has Hilda now. She's far too selfish to risk giving that up.

--

'CAITIFF.' Hilda points to the clue for three down, and Lysithea writes it into the little boxes on the newspaper. 

It is the morning of Tuesday of the next week, the week Edelgard arrives, and Lysithea still hasn't said anything. She takes a drink of her coffee, handing the pen over to Hilda so she can write the next few clues. 

"What's another word for a ‘golden coated horse’?," Hilda asks. 

Lysithea hums, and lowers her takeaway cup. “PALOMINO.”

"Oh. Duh,” Hilda mutters at herself. 

As Hilda is scrawling in the answer on the crossword puzzle, Lysithea studies the side of her face as discreetly as she can. She has seen Hilda wear some outrageous makeup before, but only on nights where they were going out to Claude’s or elsewhere. Today she is most definitely wearing something more subtle.

She is quietly observing how long Hilda’s eyelashes are, when Hilda asks without looking up from the newspaper, “You know, I haven’t seen any big boxes come in the mail for you lately. Did you tell her the keys to the Maserati were too much?”

Lysithea frowns. “Edelgard has never given me the keys to a sports car before.”

“She hasn’t? Well, that’s just outrageous, isn’t it?”

“If you must know, she hasn’t sent anything this month because -” Lysithea focuses on the crossword puzzle and tries to sound nonchalant, which is something she has never been good at, right up there with being charming. “- well, because she’s coming to visit this weekend.”

“Oh-hoho! A visit from Her Majesty herself! Are they rolling out, like, a red carpet at Town Hall?”

“No,” Lysithea says, then adds. “Though they might do that at her company’s building.”

Hilda stares. “Oh my god, I was joking.”

“‘BAMBOOZLE’,” Lysithea takes the pen and writes in the answer to four down. “She’s only here for the weekend, but she’s invited you to join us for lunch.”

"A chance to meet mystery millionaire? In the flesh? Count me in." 

When Hilda takes the pen back, their fingers graze. For the remainder of the time before Hilda has to leave for class, Lysithea only manages to get another two or three clues, because she’s thinking about the calloused warmth of Hilda’s hands instead.

-- 

Edelgard's company's building is not the tallest skyscraper in the CBD, but it is the second tallest. Plus Lysithea knows from experience that it has the best views. Right now however, she and Hilda are standing on the street below it. Hilda is craning her neck back to look up its sleek glass facade. Every facet of it reflects the blue sky and surrounding buildings with astonishing clarity.

"Jesus," Hilda mutters under her breath, lowering her sunglasses to get a better look. "This is the building? Are you sure?"

"I'm pretty sure," Lysithea says dryly.

"So, hang on," Hilda puts her sunglasses back on, and looks at Lysithea standing beside her. "I've been calling her 'mystery millionaire' this entire time, but like that seems a bit -- I dunno -- light in the cash department, if you know what I mean."

"Edelgard doesn't really like to talk about money."

"Oh, fucking Christ. It's worse than I thought." Hilda sighs down at her own clothes, which are as rakishly stylish as ever. "I should've worn something more business-y. I can just feel it."

"You look great. You always look do," Lysithea assures her. The words tumble out before she can think to stop them. 

Hilda lifts one of her shoulders in a coquettish shrug. "I know. And don't think I haven't noticed the fact that you're actually wearing one of the designer outfits you got sent in your monthly care packages." Hilda reaches out to adjust one of Lysithea's sleeves, even though the cloth does not require it. 

Lysithea can feel the brush of skin against her upper arm. She has to clear her throat before she trusts herself to speak. "We should probably go inside."

"Yeah, yeah. You hate being late. I know." 

Together they walk through the automatic glass doors and into the foyer of gleaming white marble draped with crimson banners between every pillar like some sort of triumphal scene from antiquity. There is a row of bronze keycard stations blocking off entrance to even the elevators from the common rabble that might have dared to walk in off the streets. 

A line of security personnel and front-desk workers are arranged on either wall flanking the entryway. Lysithea knows the drill. She does not hesitate to approach one of the front-desk staff, and in exchange for their names receives two visitors passes that are stamped with the company logo: a rampant red and black eagle that looks like it has been adapted from heraldry for a more modern audience. 

As they swipe their keycards at the security gates, a green light flashes and the bronze arms lower at each station to let them pass. While waiting for the elevator, Lysithea pockets her own keycard, but Hilda stares at her own in utter bewilderment.

"Alright, now I'm just imagining that your friend dresses in, like, some eighties businesswomen's power suit. You know. Tall. Stilettos sharp enough to kill a man. Shoulder-pads stuffed so broadly they could support the weight of all my failed dreams. That kind of thing."

The elevator doors slide soundlessly open, and Lysithea steps inside. “Relax,” she says. “She is really nice once you get to know her.”

Lysithea retrieves her keycard once more to wave it in front of a sensor; it allows her to hit the button for the top floor penthouse suite.

Hilda stares at the illuminated floor level button. “Right. Yeah. I’m super relaxed. Cool. Cool cool cool.”

The elevator doors start to close. When the carriage beneath their feet smoothly begins the ascent, Hilda begins to fidget. She has forgone her usual numerous rings, and instead only wears two on each hand. The metal clicks against the golden chain strap of her handbag over one shoulder as she toys with the links. Behind her semi-opaque pink-tinged sunglasses, her eyes are fixed on the floor counter, which ticks rapidly upwards with every moment spent in the elevator. 

Lysithea hesitates for a moment, then gathers up enough courage to gently close her hand around Hilda's fingers. It stops her rapid fiddling. She doesn't say anything, but Hilda releases a tense breath. When they reach the top floor, Lysithea pulls her hand away, but not before Hilda can run her thumb against Lysithea's fingertips. 

The elevator doors open. The penthouse revealed beyond is a broad open space. It's high ceilings seem to extend beyond the heavens and take their place among the clouds. It's floor to ceiling glass, and polished marble, and brushed steel, accented only with the rarest streak of colour. 

It is a far more sterile space than Lysithea normally prefers; it reminds her too much of years spent in hospitals, despite being nothing at all like hospitals. Having visited Edelgard's family home many a time however, she knows exactly why Edelgard's personal tastes run away from anything that felt too woodsy or antiquated. 

They each have their own ways of rejecting the past. For Lysithea it's warm cardigans and the pursuit of greater knowledge in the light of her family’s rampant anti-intellectualism. For Edelgard it's one ninety seven stories of glass and long-harboured designs of familial vengeance. 

The moment the elevator doors open, Lysithea steps out into the foyer. There is nobody to greet them.

“What? No butlers?” Hilda whispers in an overly covert voice, poking her head from the elevator and peering around as though scanning for an ambush. “What about snipers? Quick: do you see a red laser dot on my forehead?”

“Oh, stop being such a coward,” Lysithea says, very much aware of her own hypocrisy.

“Says the one who jumps out of her skin when I so much as play the theme song of a horror movie!”

“I’m -! I’m not that bad!”

“I saw you get scared in a Halloween shop once.”

“That’s it. I’m leaving you here.” Lysithea starts to walk further into the penthouse. 

“Noooo! Wait! Wait wait wait!”

Lysithea doesn’t stop. Behind her, she can hear the clack of Hilda’s designer boots. Hilda jogs up beside her so that they walk side by side. “How do you know where to go?”

“Edelgard always stays here when she visits.” 

When they turn a glass corner, they are faced with a long hallway and an ornate double door at the very end. By the door stands a man dressed all in dour black. He looms as they approach, his gaunt face somehow always cast in shadow despite the well lit room. 

Lysithea waves. “Hi, Hubert.”

Hubert greets her with an incline of his head that seems more like a shallow bow than anything else. “Lysithea. I am glad to see you well.”

Hilda leans down to whisper in Lysithea’s ear. “Is this the butler?”

“There are no butlers,” Lysithea says. She thinks for a moment, then adds. “Well, not here, anyway.”

In contrast, Hubert does not incline his head towards Hilda. He glowers, and he is very very good at glowering. As though he practices in the mirror every morning. “Hubert von Vestra. Head of Security, and personal attaché to the Managing Director and Chairman of the Board, Edelgard Hresvelg.” 

Hilda sticks out her hand to introduce herself. "Dr. Hilda Valentine Goneril. Two-time Commonwealth Champion, and Terror of Pub Trivia Night. Nice to meet you."

He lifts a contemptuous eyebrow at her her hand. He does not take it. “I’m afraid I’m going to need to inspect your bag before you are allowed entry.” When Lysithea starts to shrug her bag from her shoulder, he says, “Oh, not you. Just her.”

“Wow.” Hilda says. “Thanks.” 

Still, Hilda hands over her purse. Hubert handles it delicately, as if aware of its fine label. He prods around inside and along the seams. At one point, he lifts a small gold and coral handled switchblade, and shoots Hilda an unimpressed glare. 

Hilda shrugs, completely unapologetic. “A girl’s got the right to peel fruit without getting gross rind under her nails.” 

In answer, Hubert tests the switchblade with an expert twirl of his fingers. He pockets it, and when Hilda makes a wordless whine of complaint, he informs her, “You may have it back upon your departure.” 

Grumbling under her breath, Hilda snatches her bag back from him and slings it over her shoulder. Hubert opens the door for them and ushers them inside. Lysithea grimaces apologetically at Hilda as they walk into the next room. 

There, sunlight blanches the room in pale tones through the broad windows. At the head of a long table, Edelgard sets down a tablet she had been reading, and rises to her feet. She is clad in a militant knee-length scarlet coat with a flair of sumptuous white lining. Somehow she can always make whatever she wears look army-issued, but in a stylish way. Like she had just stepped from a monochromatic 1940s picture and into full colour. 

“Ohh, you’re wearing the new McQueen,” Hilda sighs wistfully over Edelgard’s coat. “Ohhhhh, and it looks so good on you, too.” 

The corner of Edelgard’s mouth curls in amusement, but all she says is a cool, “Thank you. It's nice to finally meet you, Hilda.” 

When Edelgard turns her attention to Lysithea, her face relaxes into a genuine smile. She walks forward to give Lysithea a hug, and murmurs, “You’re right on time.”

“I hope we’re not interrupting your work too much,” Lysithea says, nodding towards the tablet. 

“Oh, that.” Edelgard gives the device a dismissive wave. “Board papers. I’m halfway through the latest financial results, and already bored out of my mind. You saved me. And now I must reward you with tea.”

They move to take their seats, Lysithea at Edelgard’s right hand and Hilda sitting across from them, but Hilda hesitates. She stoops, half-seated, and asks, “Just tea? I thought -? Are we going out for lunch after, or, like -?”

“High tea,” Lysithea says. “There will be food. Snacks. Lots of them.”

“Ohh. Right. Okay.” 

Hilda sits. She fidgets with her purse in her lap for a moment, before dumping it in the seat beside her. The table is long and extends quite a ways beyond them, while they use only a small section of it. It could have easily seated twenty. 

Hubert does not take a seat, but instead hovers in a small patch of shadow cast by a pillar. Close enough that his presence is unquestionably part of the group, but far enough away to not partake.

Sighing, Edelgard glances over at him. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Did we? It must have slipped my mind.”

In answer, Edelgard only gives him a pointed look, then gestures towards one of the empty seats. He relents, and takes the seat directly beside Hilda. As he does so, Hilda not so discreetly clears her throat, and shuffles her own chair a little further away from him. 

“Don’t mind Hubert. He means well,” Edelgard tells Hilda. Her white-gloved hands are neatly clasped atop the table. “I really am glad you could make it. Lysithea’s descriptions pale in comparison to the real thing.”

Hilda hoists her eyebrows up, and she gives Lysithea an amused glance. “Well, then! Lysithea never told me you were such a charmer!”

“Because my charms are completely ineffective where she is concerned.” 

“Difficult to be charming when I’ve seen you covered in vomit,” Lysithea interrupts.

Edelgard makes a face, then explains to Hilda, “Treatment drugs. I cannot in good faith recommend them.”

“Oh, I dunno. I hear the side-effects of ‘living’ are kinda worth it,” Hilda quips. 

“Barely,” Edelgard drawls. She smiles, but her gaze is steady and sharp. “Now, I’d heard you had a range of interests and skills, but I never dreamed that someone would be able to convince Lysithea to actually wear the clothes I send her.”

Lysithea can feel her cheeks burning.

“What can I say?” Hilda runs a hand dramatically through her long hair. “I’m a woman of mystery.”

At that Hubert’s presence seems even more menacing than before. "There are no secrets you have that I do not know, Dr. Goneril. I personally prepared your background docket for the Chairman."

"Which I did not read," Edelgard assures Hilda, then adds. "Mostly."

“Oookay!” Hilda smiles broadly at them, then at Lysithea. “I am officially concerned now!”

Before Lysithea can do anything, a door opens. Two waitstaff emerge from another room, bearing china and triple-tiered trays of bite-sized food. 

As the cups and plates and trays are assembled on the table, Lysithea frowns reprimandingly at Edelgard. “I always try to look nice when visiting your company buildings. They would turn me away at the door otherwise.”

“I know that’s a lie, because I give them your photo with the express orders to admit you.” 

“Well -! It’s -!” Lysithea fumbles for a good counter. “It’s nice to not stick out from the decor sometimes.”

Edelgard’s expression slips into something very sly. “Yes, and I’m sure the makeup is all for my benefit as well.”

Lysithea hunches her shoulders and sinks down a little in her chair. “Alright. Let’s go back to picking on Hilda.”

“Hey!” Hilda mimes throwing her cloth serviette at Lysithea across the table. 

A printed card with the day’s selection of tea is presented to each of them, with assurances that there are other flavours available should they require. Lysithea picks something sweet and apple-flavoured -- a loose leaf that Edelgard always makes sure is in stock when Lysithea visits -- and thanks the wait staff profusely. The gentleman murmurs, and takes the card away once more. 

The other waiter is bowed over Hilda’s shoulder, while she orders a rose blend and also asks, “And do you have any paper napkins I can use as projectiles? It’s really important.”

“Of course.” The waiter takes the card from her. 

“Thanks!”

Neither of the waiters approach Edelgard or Hubert, whose preferences are already so well known that they do not need to be asked. The wait staff disappear behind the door. Casual conversation with a tense undercurrent continues until they return, bearing round trays upon their shoulders, which hold large glass pots. 

The tea leaves steep visibly. There follows a show of pouring the tea, where the waiters fill their cups with each respective flavour from increasing heights, all while not spilling a single drop upon the pristine white tablecloth. Lysithea has already started on the selection of macaroons, unable to resist the temptation of sweets and savoury dishes artfully arrayed before them. 

When the wait staff are gone and the tea half-drunk, Hilda props her elbows indecorously on the table. In one hand she wields a miniature cake that has more layers than most full-sized pastries. A few paper napkins have been set on the table for her. “So, tell me: what’s your secret, Managing Director and Chairman of the Board?”

Lifting cup and saucer between her hands, Edelgard answers with her usual cool composure. “The role of Chairman is heritable due to a rather fortuitous and iron-clad clause in the shareholder’s agreement.”

“And the Managing Director part?” Hilda presses. She takes a bite of the little cake, and her eyes widen. “Oh, shit,” she mumbles around the mouthful. “This is really good.” 

Lysithea nods in agreement, and reaches for another of the little cakes, herself. Silently, Hubert turns the tray that they share so that more of the sweets are angled in her direction.

Edelgard takes her time to sip at her tea, placing the cup back in its saucer. “The role of Managing Director, I admit, I had to wrest for myself. Though I do not claim to handle anything below a strategic level of the business. I have a very competent CEO for that.”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to call Ferdinand ‘very competent’,” Hubert interjects.

“He keeps up staff morale,” Edelgard says.

“And questions you at every turn.”

“Good. That’s why I pay him such a high salary.”

“Okay, enough with the bullshit. I have a very important question to ask you.” Hilda leans forward and fixes Edelgard with an intense stare. “Do you have childhood photos of Lysithea?”

“Absolutely.” Without hesitation, Edelgard pulls up the tablet that has been sitting at her elbow.

“Now, hang on just a minute -” Lysithea watches in horror as Hilda scoots her chair around so that she can look over Edelgard’s shoulder. 

It’s far too late. Soon, Hilda is making cooing noises and pinching the screen to zoom in on a photo Lysithea can’t see and doesn’t want to see, while Edelgard tells the story behind it. Meanwhile, Lysithea drinks her tea and attempts to staunchly ignore them with as much poise as she can muster. It isn’t nearly enough poise, though, for Hubert grimaces at her in his imitation of a smile, which he only does when he’s trying his very best to show support or be comforting. 

“Shall I call for some refills?” Hubert asks her, his voice as soft as he could make it.

“I’d like that,” Lysithea sighs. 

The other two don’t take any notice as their cups are filled with steaming tea once more. They continue to trawl through Edelgard’s apparently extensive collection of photographs, until Hilda shuffles her chair back over to her place. 

“God, she was a cute kid.” Hilda reaches for one of the savoury pastries. 

Lysithea sinks down a little in her chair. Her face feels aflame. 

Edelgard casts a sidelong glance in Lysithea’s direction. “I see someone hasn’t had a talk with you, yet.”

“What?” Hilda asks.

“So! How about those macaroons!” Lysithea says, a little too loudly. “Did you have one, Hubert? You should, or else they’ll all vanish.”

Indeed, the supply of food has steadily diminished as time goes on. He gamely plays along and plucks a macaroon from the tray. 

Rolling here eyes, Edelgard takes a prim sip of her tea, and murmurs, “Predictable.” 

Still, she allows the conversation to move along, and does not mention it again. They graze. Their cups are refilled. The sun slips towards the horizon, casting the table in warm golden light. Lysithea can’t help but stare as Hilda seems to be illuminated from behind. The flossy rays glint against her earrings, and she sparkles when she laughs. 

Eventually, Hilda scrapes her chair back and rises to her feet. “Alright. I’m going to let you two catch up in peace.” Everyone else had stood when she did. Hilda holds out her hand for Edelgard to shake, which Edelgard does. “Thanks for having me.”

Edelgard smiles, and it’s a genuine smile. It might have been too small a thing for Hilda to notice, but both Lysithea and Hubert exchange silent, incredulous looks. “You are welcome anytime.”

“Don’t say that, or I might just take you up on your offer of a private jet ride.”

“I never offered you a ride in my private jet.”

“No, but you could. Think about it.” 

At that, Edelgard actually lets out a huff of wry laughter. “Good bye, Hilda,” she says, very pointedly.

“Ohh, chilly!” Hilda pretends to shiver, but shoots Edelgard a parting wink before turning to Hubert. One hand on her hip, she holds out the other to him with an expectant look.

Her knife appears between his fingers, and he passes it over. “You might consider leaving it behind next time, Dr. Goneril.”

“Funny. I was going to say the same thing about the stick up your ass, but, you know -” She flutters her eyelashes at him. “We all have our little foibles.”

Hubert gives an amused little chuckle when she taps at his chin with the folded knife handle, but his dark eyes glitter dangerously. 

If Hilda is at all intimidated, she doesn’t show it. She rounds the table and leans down to swiftly press a kiss to Lysithea’s cheek in farewell. “See you tomorrow!”

Lysithea blinks. “Yeah,” she says, slightly dazed. The warmth and softness of Hilda’s cheek lingers against her skin. “See you.”

“Allow me to show you out.” Hubert does not give Hilda the option to refuse, and follows her through the doors.

A silence falls in their absence. Lysithea stares after the barest glimpse of Hilda’s clothes and hair until she and Hubert have disappeared around the corner. When she turns back around, Edelgard has sat back down and lifted her teacup to her lips.

“So?” Lysithea drops into her chair. She awaits Edelgard's final verdict with anticipation.

Edelgard sips at the fragrant earl grey. “You could have done a lot worse.”

[teampandawang]

Teach Me How To Love | Part I

By: Mow 

Genre: Fluff // Angst // Smut(? 

Pairing: Suga X Reader (with surprises along the way)

Description: Is when your comfort zone is in its closest state that you will see the brightest sunlight on the outside. 

A/N: Soooooooooooo, this has begun. 🥳 I'm happy to be posting this, it’s been a long time since the idea came to my head and I hope you get to enjoy it. Also, If there’s any disclaimer along the way like smut or something I’ll warn you, so don’t worry. 

“That’s all for today.” Said the voice of your professor. The echo of his words set you free for the weekend. Finally, with the last goodbye you gave him, you were able to rest.

“Thank God.” You said right after, in a whisper for just you and your friend to hear.

“Never thought you would say that.” She joked.

“I get tired too, you know?” You joked back. The weight of the courses disappearing from your shoulders.

“It always looks like you don't.”

Everyone was used to believe your life was studying, nothing else. You were the president of the investigation department, so you actually had a lot of work to do. Usually, you had to run after class to some meeting with the rest of the group, and after that, you needed to get back home soon to finish any class paper or to practice a project presentation. It wasn't easy to balance your academic life with your personal life, but it was something you thought necessary to not lose your mind. So despite all the college activity, you also had really good times with your friends, but until today, they still felt amazed by the other side of you.

“Do you want to go shopping with me tomorrow?” You asked your friend as you grabbed your backpack from the floor.

“Actually I was going to invite you to a party. It's been a while since we went to one.” Jessica answered you. Starting to walk beside you, out of the auditorium.

“Well, we can go shopping and then to the party. How does that sound?” You proposed. You really needed new clothes, even more, if you were going out to a college party.

“Uh, I love it.” She said excited making a small jump.

“And whose party is this?” You asked.

“Jimin's,” She said through an awkward grin, waiting for your reaction.

“You have to be kidding me. Are we really going to that fraternity?” You asked irritated, remembering how that ended the last time your friend's group went.

The thing was that they weren't all bad guys. You actually had worked a lot with Namjoon in a couple of investigation projects, and Hoseok and you shared plenty of classes. But the rest of the guys were not the kind of people you would like to be involved with.

“C'mon! I have to go, Jin is going to be there.” Jessica had a big, HUGE, crush on Jin, so it didn't matter whose and what event was it, if he was there, then she needed to be there too. But that didn't mean they were close, not even friends. The moment Jin stands in front of her, she gets extremely nervous and runs away. This had happened more times than you wanted to admit.

“We'll go if you promise me to finally talk properly to him.” You played, not wanting to keep the game of following Jin with her any longer.

“I… fine, yes. I promise.” She said biting her lips.

“Then this is gonna be really fun, isn't it?” You let out on a small laugh to tease her.

“Please support me!” Jessica yelled to you, making your laughter grow.

“I will, seriously.” You managed to say, catching your breath again.

You were sure she was going to need your help, but seeing her all red and struggling to keep the conversation with him alive was always funny. You kept teasing her as both of you walked to the building's exit, stopping immediately at the sight of a crowd blocking the way. The students were standing in a circle, probably seeing some argument, according to the screams.

“What’s happening?” Jessica asked you softly.

“I don't know. Wait here, I'll see.”

The curiosity dragged you inside. You searched for someone you knew to ask what was happening but there was no one, so you made your way between the mass of people, all of them yelling. Some screams in approvement and the others against. But against what? You pushed gently a few more bodies out of your way, with lots of excuses, until you reached the center of the crowd, your gaze catching a pretty discouraging image.

Standing in the middle was Jimin with his fist closed on the shirt of another student you didn't recognize. He wasn't saying anything to him, but the look in his eyes expressed clearly his aggressive intentions. You managed to see his other hand moved directly to the poor guy's face, but when you were about to scream, someone grabbed Jimin’s hand and took him away. It was a guy known as Suga, one more of the group you were talking about earlier, but surprisingly, and despite his fame, he wasn't directly an aggressive guy as you could see.

“The show is over, go away!” Shouted Namjoon, which apparently came with Suga to stop their problematic little friend.

You took a few steps away to find Jessica between the people left. You were concerned and shocked, not believing yet what you just saw. You weren't a person of fights, not even small conflicts, so this was the first time you actually saw a fist raised to hit somebody else. Is this how it was going to be tomorrow? You hoped not.

“Y/N!” She yelled and your eyes found her. “What was that?” She asked you as soon as you reached her side again, the worried tone clear in her voice.

“Well, that was our precious little host, being the asshole he is.” You answered her bitterly, taking the image away.

“I won't try to deny it, but you know not all of them are like that.” You knew she was trying to stop you from backing off. Which in fact was what you were about to do. “And is not like you have to talk to him, maybe you won't even see him the whole night.”

“Maybe, but is not just him. I have to avoid 3 of them in order to have peace.” You rolled your eyes, thinking of a plan to keep yourself away from them. But despite that, and the bad mood you were getting right in that moment, you didn't want to let her down on this one, you had already done that a lot of times before. “But relax, I'm still going. You need help with Jin.” You finally agreed, hoping to not regret it later.

“Yay! Thank you, Y/N.” She said jumping and smiling widely. At least she was happy, and that made your heart warmed.

She was like your sister, little sister may I add, not actually by age but with the way she acted sometimes, it felt like that. But you didn't mind. Both of you had plenty of good times together, and you were happy with her in your life.

After chatting with her at the entrance for a couple of minutes, you went home.

You unlocked the front door with a smile on your face, the familiar scent from your apartment greeting you as soon as the door shot open. It was always comforting to be home after a long day, and the peace of living by yourself was, without a doubt, the best thing you had found in your life. Everything there went at your pace, everything looked the way you liked it, everything was according to your taste, and that was simply beautiful to you.

“Here you are.” You said between giggles at the sight of your cat walking straight to you from the bedroom. Holly always greeted you when you arrived, sometimes it was just asking for food, but the feeling of her waiting for you was still quite nice.

You filled Holly’s plate in the kitchen before going to your bedroom. The sight of your comfortable bed suddenly making you feel how tired you actually were, your eyes felt heavy and they kept refusing to stay open even from where you were standing, so you changed your clothes in a hurry and laid down, the soft sheets making your body relax in an instance as the heavy thoughts of your responsibilities fade away.

You woke up a few hours later, totally lost in reality. Your hand traveled the surface of your bed searching for your phone between the covers, as you asked yourself what hour was. When you felt it, your fingers curled surrounding it, holding it above your face and unlocking it right in front of your still sleepy eyes, burning them. You groaned softly in annoyance and closed them for a second to adjust to the new amount of light.

The screen said it was almost 9 pm, and your stomach agreed with the feeling of emptiness inside of it, so while you collected energy to stand up and go make something to eat, you scrolled down your social media, waiting to feel fully awake. Not too long on it, you found a post that caught your attention, it was from Hoseok.

“These guys, seriously…” You sighed to yourself.

It wasn't a doubt that the party was going to be wild, because not once one of that fraternity’s parties had ended up without a sex scene, without a fight, without a scandal. Those guys didn't really care if someone got hurt or if something dangerous happened, they had just one thing in mind, have fun, which can be translated into sex, lots of alcohol, and who knows what more. But you were determined to go and have a good time as well, a quite different kind of fun, but fun after all. Also, you really wanted to help Jessica. You knew Jin wasn't a bad guy. Actually, at that very moment, you stopped yourself to think if they were as bad as you thought. The incident with that guy Suga caught your attention. You had always heard that he was pretty violent, so why did he stopped his friend? That wasn't something you would expect from him. Maybe, just maybe, you were underestimating them… you'll see tomorrow night.

You closed the app and locked your phone again, leaving the thoughts for later in order to stand on your feet and make your way to the kitchen. The cold floor under your bare feet took the necessity of jumping into the bed back again, but the hunger was stronger.

Finally, you made something easy and fast out of laziness and then headed back to your bedroom with the hot plate in your hands. You turned on the T.V. and put Netflix while you ate. The movie played on the screen until you fell asleep again, with the plate at one side.

"What do you think about this one?" You asked your friend. You've been in the same store for what seemed like forever, and because Jessica needed you to make a decision over a top, you were just starting to try on the things you picked. But the thing was that the moment she got what she wanted, she lost herself taking pictures to upload them probably on every social media. "Jessica!"

"I'm sorry!" She said lifting her head from her phone, after checking the last picture she took. "Wow, Y/N, you look so sexy! That dress is going to catch a lot of attention." She almost yelled through a wide smile.

"Is it too much? Should I try another one?" You asked seeing the dress in the mirror, not feeling sure if it was right for the occasion. ‘Is it too short? Or too elegant?’ You kept asking yourself.

"Don't you dare, you look amazing and it's perfect for tonight. We're taking this one." She said more excited than you while taking a picture of you with her phone. She was always your best supporter in this kind of situations, you trusted her.

You rolled your eyes at the sound of the camera but found her enthusiasm funny, and the dress was beautiful, it was very sexy too, but with a jacket it would look more casual. So you ended up convincing yourself that it was a great decision and finally bought it.

After you got all the things you needed to, you drove home, leaving Jessica at her place in the way, agreeing on meeting her later.

The sky had already turned dark with the stars shining brightly up there hand in hand with the beautiful lights of the city. The wind was cold and without struggle managed to enter through the window, catching your still bared arms, sending shivers all over your body, but before putting on your jacket you sprayed the last drops of perfume on your neck, that being the only thing left to be ready. After the fabric covered your shoulders, you took one last glance in the mirror.

The view sent you a strong feeling of confidence and your eyes sparkled at the sight. You looked amazing. The dress, without a doubt, fit you perfectly. Not always you felt like this before going out, but tonight you were damn sure you looked great, and the feeling of that was wonderful.

[i-writeandread-blog]

Wonderland - Chapter 13

And just like that, Wonderland is back! (Y’all it survived Thanos snap after all) Geez, I missed Jared and Ali so much!! Enjoy!

I was surprised at first when Jared grabbed the bottle of brown liquor, but he was nothing if not a team player. We all loosened up rather quickly and I knew we were in for a long night.  I started shuffling the cards and looked to my two friends.  "Asshole, right?"  They nodded.

Jared's confused look was really adorable. "Jare, asshole is a game.  Let me explain the rules to you.  Girls we are going to have to ease him into this, he's a newbie and doesn't drink."  I explained the rules and how you don't want to end up being the asshole at the end of the round.  He caught on quickly and surprisingly was better at it than us three.  Especially considering we along with our group of friends had been playing it for at least five years. Darlene was not amused that she had been asshole two out of the three times we played and we all could tell from her not so subtle sighs and shrugs.  Usually when we played she would be the one doing most of the "winning."  At any rate, our hearts weren't really in it and we were getting tipsy a little too fast since we hadn't ate.

The food arrived and we were all happy to finally have something to do other than drink.  No one was speaking as we all consumed fries, burgers, pizza, and whatever else was available. We laughed a little at how much food we were devouring, then as if we all on cue thought about Nicky at the same time we started to cry. It was completely emotional in the room. I don't think we were ever going to be normal again as a group. The pain was going to be too much.

When we all seemed to be stuffed to the brim, Darlene started to shuffle the cards and set up for another game, when Jared grabbed her arm and stopped her.  The look of shock on Darlene was hysterical to me.  She was the alpha of every group.  Even her husband knew that she was the head of the household, giving in to her every desire.  "Please, don't." He said.  She looked to me and I nodded in agreement.

"Well, why the fuck not?" Dar questioned us.

"Because we are tired, we have jet lag, and we have a big day tomorrow.  Let's just call it a night and we can catch up more tomorrow. Please, Dar?"  I pleaded with her.

"Fine, but I'm breaking into MY mini bar when I get back to the room.  Thanks, Jared for the free booze. You're a doll."  She said and then leaned in and kissed his temple.  She stepped out of the room and said, "Come on Heather, we aren't wanted anymore." Heather got up and followed her to the door like a little puppy.

"Dar, that's not..." Jared stopped me. "Let them go." The door closed with a loud thud.

"Jared, I'm so sorry. I should have warned you about how crass she can be. I fear she may make me look badly. But you don't know the history or the stories behind our friendship."

"You're right, she does come off a little strong and I have to admit, I can't see how the two of you even know each other. I'd like to find out. Tell me while I clean up?" He got up and started picking up the liquor bottles and trashing them in the wastebasket.

"Okay, it's a doozy. You ready to hear some not so good things about your.... umm.... me?"

"Ali, you're my girlfriend. Just because we haven't actually said it out loud doesn't make it not true, so go ahead and call yourself that from this moment going forward, ok?"

"Alright, I guess I'll dive right in. I met Darlene at church." Jared spun around to look at me and smirked. "Yes, church, Jared. We aren't all heathens like you." He laughed, "uh huh."

"Well, it's true. We met at church. I was very active. My parents made us go as kids, but once I was older, I had the choice and I chose to still go. Silver Lake Baptist Church had a really big group of kids my age. We were teenagers. There really wasn't much to do in that po dunk town. So we went to church. It beat sitting at home.  Anyway, my cousin Lynne was always picking up strays.  Animals and people.  She has a kind heart, much kinder than mine.  One Saturday night we all met at church to go somewhere, probably bowling or skating... something along those lines, and in walks Lynne with Darlene.  I had never seen her before, but I was used to always being the center of attention.  I guess I sensed how strong of a personality Dar has and didn't want her to steal the spotlight. I immediately started picking on her.  It didn't matter to me that I was at church.  So it started with her weight, she has always been a bigger girl.  Then I found out her mom worked at the casino.  So I made some snide remark along the lines of, "my family plays the games there, we don't work them."  As if that somehow meant I was better than she was.  I don't know what got into me, but I just kept going until we were back at the church and she broke out in tears.  It was time to leave so I caught a ride with Lynne and Dar.  We dropped her off, so I knew where she stayed.  The next day feeling so guilty, I went to her house and knocked on the door, she answered and asked me in these exact words: "what the hell do you want?" I apologized and we became friends... through the years there's been a lot of ups and downs.  I've seen her go from raising her own self practically because her mom couldn't be bothered to do it, to being kicked out of her moms house because the many guys she brought over didn't like her.  I was there when she was being abused and then later when she met her husband.  She's tough on the outside because she always had to be.  She's never had it easy.  Three years ago she had a son who died of SIDS.  She's just never caught a break."  I began to cry. "As bitchy as she is, I get her. And I'm not really any different from her. I was a bitch to her in the beginning. That part of me still exists."

——————————

Ali confessed some darkness about her while I cleaned up, and it seemed to me that she has remained friends with Darlene out of guilt all these years. I felt bad. The two of them had a history, but that didn't mean they had anything in common other than the past. I didn't like that she was beating herself up.

"Ali, you're not a terrible person. You were a child. You did childish things.  Sometimes people are in our lives for a season, they fulfill their purpose and then they go.  It's okay to move on."

“I don't want to walk away from so many years of friendship with her, that would be a bad thing to do."

"Ali, you have nothing in common with her and I'm gonna be honest here, it seems like this life, the one you left behind for greener pastures was left for a reason.  These people all have issues with alcohol and drugs.  I watched Shannon spend years of his life fighting those demons.  Most times those battles can't be won.  They'll suck you down with them."

I watched her as she slowly started to realize I was right, taking in each one of my words and essentially chewing it over in her head.  I know she didn't like the idea that everyone she knew in her past growing up was essentially nothing more than just a means to her being where she was today.  They did not define her.  They could never be remotely anything as beautiful a soul as she was.  And for fucks sake, she deserved to feel better about who she was as a person.

"The girl sitting before me... excuse me, the woman... she is bright, beautiful, funny as hell, and more special than she will ever give herself credit for.  You have me now.  These people can and will move on. You are not the sum of these parts.  They aren't even a fraction of who you are.  And who you are is my girlfriend.  Say it, Ali.  Be proud.  I'm proud of you and your accomplishments.  You got this old bastard for a boyfriend.  Many tried, none came even close.  Say it, Ali."

“Uhhh"

I gave her the look.  The one that said, do it or else.

"I'm your girlfriend." She said meekly.

“No, babe.  Say it loud."

"I'M YOUR GIRLFRIEND!"

"That's right, babe.  And don't you forget that.  You're mine.  And I'm your best friend now."

I wanted to tell her right then that I was in love with her, but I knew it was too soon.  Or maybe it wasn't.  But I didn't want to press my luck.  Besides, I wasn't a complete asshole that I'd make her stop all contact with her friends from North Carolina.  She would do that on her own terms and timeline.  But she knew she had a new life going forward, and her future was going to be so bright.

In fact, my first goal was to get her writing again.  It was her dream.  And I knew she would be perfect at it just by listening to her stories.  They were all so colorful and unique.  She had a way of really getting you to feel like you were there in that moment.  I could hear her talk for hours.

“I was one of them once, you know... there wasn’t anything to do when we got older but to drink and fuck around with drugs.” Ali said so low I almost didn’t hear it.

“Oh for fucks sake, Ali. Seriously, what did I do as a teenager? I know you know.”

“Sold drugs.”

“Yes, and do I do it now? Do I drink now? Do I go and break into peoples houses now? No. People change. You have changed. How can you not see this? You changed the minute you decided your life didn’t belong here anymore. So can we concede that fact and stop beating ourselves up over bettering ourselves while others choose not to?”

She nodded and accepted that I was right. I was finally done cleaning up the mess we had all made and I was in desperate need of my “Ali cuddling session.” I walked to the bed and lowered myself into it. She followed suit. Once both of us were in bed, I reached for the remote and turned on the tv.

“What would you like to watch babe?”

“Something funny. Doesn’t matter what. You choose.”

I flipped through rapidly until I spotted Gilligan’s Island. This would be fine because I thought it would be nothing more than just background noise. Boy, was I wrong. Cute little Ali was full of surprises, yet again.

“Oh my God! I love this show. I never understood why it was Gilligan’s island and not the Professors or the Captains, or even the old rich couple. I mean if anyone had the money to buy an island it would be them, I mean I know they didn’t buy the island but still, just seemed weird he was just the skipper. And he was kinda a doof. Ginger was way prettier than Mary Anne, but I guess I can appreciate that...”

I planted my lips on her to get her to shut up. If I hadn’t she would have rambled forever, no doubt in my mind. I kissed her lustfully, and wrapped my arms around her in a huge embrace. She sighed into me. It was the first time she truly loosened up since she got here.

“I love you. My sweet, funny, adorable Ali.” The words tumbled out of my mouth.

She tore herself from my grasp. Sat right up. And stared at me as if I had three heads.

@nikkitasevoli @snewsome756 @llfd1977 @branded-with-a-j @letojokerownsme @lady-grinning-soul-k @lolainblue @msroxyblog @burritoverload @lostinletoland

[chwrpg]

Murray, I have asked you repeatedly not to call me "woman".

A NOTE FROM ADMIN R: Oh, oh, oh ! Y’all don’t know how happy I am to be accepting this application. Dylan is truly one of my CHW faves and to have her taken up by you, Cailin... that’s just an honor. I can not wait to see what you do with her, but I know one thing... this dash ain’t ready fro the looks Dylan is about to serve us. Thank you so much for applying and welcome back, love !

OOC NAME/ALIAS, PREFERRED PRONOUNS, AGE & TIMEZONE:

cailin, (she/her), 25, est

DESIRED CHARACTER:

queen mother, dylan davenport

HOW ACTIVE WILL YOU BE?

8-10

SECONDARY CHOICE:

taylor flick

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER:

Dylan is shrouded in beauty, bold fashion choices, witty comebacks, and her daddy’s debit card. But the woman wearing the Amina Muaddi heels to 7/11 is much more interesting than her out of this world clothes. If Chanel’s head is in the clouds, Dylan’s feet are planted on the ground. She’s the fuel to the fire, the one who gets shit done. Things don’t move without her — and that includes the fashion scene in Rosewood. Dylan could’ve been a surgeon, she has the brains and attention to detail for it, but, you see, what Dylan says or doesn’t say goes. She predicted high waist jeans making a comeback before Vogue did, telling the girls one day during first period. So she’s a bit of a culture oracle. It’s why people care about what she’s thinking, who she’s endorsing, what designers she’s buying. They even want to know what she’s watching on a monday night. Her confidence and sincerity is inspiring. When she’s not taste making though, she’s the loyalest, most straightforward friend you can find in her tax bracket. Balancing the thin line between being no-nonsense and fun to be around. She does it well, though. In fact, she does most things well (driving not included.)‌ Her peers boast about her style and charisma, her professors brag about her work ethic and creativity, her boyfriend….well, her love life is a tumultuous roller coaster but every icon needs a fixer upper. Plus she gets diamonds every time he fumbles.

SAMPLE WRITING:

( Alexa, play Daddy )

The day Dylan was born she became a daddy’s girl. Stevie Wonder could see it. Dada was her first word much to her mother’s chagrin. He never raised his voice at her, never got impatient with her when she spilled her juice or threw her food. He got up in the middle of the night so his wife wouldn’t have to even though he had meetings at 7 in the morning. It didn’t stop there, though. Mr. Davenport didn’t put her down at parties. He carried her around on his hip as he mingled and held court, demanding on no one use baby talk for his brilliant baby girl. “She’s smart like her mom.” He would say to his captivated audience. For her third birthday he rented out an entire amusement park. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t yet tall enough to ride the rides, she had asked for it so he made it happen. He was a doer and a fixer, but he wasn’t perfect. Mr. Davenport had always been a better father and provider than a husband.

So, when she was five, her parents went through a nasty divorce. The papers their lawyers drew up cited irreconcilable differences but she’d come to realize, many years later, that was just how rich people skirted around the truth in hopes of keeping people out of their business. In truth, Mr. Davenport had spent the better part of his career sleeping with secretaries, temps, and clients. Basically anything that was of age and not nailed down. Mrs. Davenport had only grown tired of it after watching Halle Berry cry over Eric Benet  on Oprah. But like she’d taught  Dylan, Mrs. Davenport thought three steps ahead, and had arranged to have a cheating clause in their prenup. She saw the board before she’d even stepped foot on it. And, Sure, they’d been in love when they got married at twenty three, but a cheater never changed its spots, just his lies. In an instant, she got half of everything. Twenty percent of his future earnings, and 360 lipo for a girls trip to Maui to celebrate her emancipation.

All Dylan got out of the deal was two houses, two birthdays, two Christmases, two cars she still couldn’t drive when she turned sixteen. The court awarded them joint custody, ruling they both had enough sense to figure out the schedule on their own. But since that was the year her mom went back to school for her PhD, Dylan spent the majority of her time with her dad and a nanny. Those double holidays also served as a good distraction from the heartbreak she couldn’t explain. Though she was sharp as a whip and actually funny, not laugh because it’s a kid funny, but really funny, she still couldn’t wrap her little mind around why her parents drove to separate houses at the end of the night now. At all those parties, what stuck out the most was everyone saying what a handsome couple they were, how lucky they were to have another. They danced and laughed. They seemed so happy. But looks are deceiving and lucky for her, the loneliest year of her young life was also the year she met her best friend.

( Alexa, play Wannabe )

Dylan and Chanel became an instant package deal, and she thanked her father for not being able to keep his dick out of seedy holes because she wouldn’t have went to school in another district if her mom hadn’t won the house in the divorce, and she wouldn’t have sat down next to Chanel at show and tell, and they wouldn’t have bonded over their pretty dresses, or shared their organic apple juice. God worked in mysterious ways like that. She had a partner for life, and nothing came between them. Not even boys. And, despite having the power to date any eligible bachelor in her grade, she really liked one in particular.

The day she brought Paxton home her took one look at him and chuckled. Dylan figured it was because of the grill he hadn’t learned to talk without slurring with yet, but her mother had other ideas. “He reminds me of your father.” She said, long after he’d gone home, but not before Dylan spent fifteen minutes walking him to his car. The driveway was super long but her lipstick was nonexistent when she returned. That didn’t matter though, because Dylan knew what that meant. Her mom thought Paxton was charming, likable, handsome — but she also knew he was a liar and a dog. They argued for well over an hour, and she said some things she regretted but that’s what teenage girls did, they rebelled against becoming their mother all while doing so. She didn’t realize just how much he was like her father until she caught him DMing other girls on instagram and got a diamond necklace out of the deal. Still, it was clear that he could shoot a man in broad daylight and she would always be daddy’s little girl, nothing could change that.

“Daddy!” Dylan whined, clinging to her dad’s arm as they traipsed through another commercial property with their real estate agent. Today was the day she was finally going to buck up and switch locations from her dad’s pool house to an office space in scenic, downtown Rosewood. Being interviewed by magazines had been life changing, sitting front row of the hottest runways next to A-listers had its perks, doing a skincare routine video for vogue was dope, but expanding her business because the calls wouldn’t stop coming in to be styled be Dylan and her associates? That was something she’d done herself from the ground up. She’d started with styling her friends and now she was going to style the world.

( Alexa, play Successful )

Her heels were tall enough to greet God but she still only reached his shoulder. “I hope this one has vaulted ceilings.” Her tone was way past passive aggressive. She would’ve dialed it back had their agent not been set to make serious bank off of this, but had only been showing them office spaces with disgusting lighting and rude doormen. For all of their sakes, she hoped this one was better. “I need two sessions of hot yoga after the last mess you showed us, at least. My chakras are all out of wack now. Thanks a lot, A.” She was being dramatic but her dad didn’t stop her. He just smiled that infamous smile at the agent and excused himself to the back of the elevator to take a call. Dylan rolled her eyes when she caught their real estate agent, Angela, fawning. She was a slender woman with the proportion of a fashion model who only modeled in theory, never practice. With cropped hair and full lips. She’d been their families real estate agent for decades, found the house her mom had one in the divorce, but Dylan couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d slept with her dad while he was married to her mom, and for that she hated her.

The light dinged to signal they were at their floor, and the elevator doors slid open. When she bothered lifting them from a lengthy text she was typing to her beau, her eyes lit up like when her dad gifted her a patek for her eighteenth, or the G-Wagon that was still collecting dust in the garage for her sixteenth. Whatever the occasion was, she was aglow just like then. The floors were European oak, all the walls were white sans a charcoal accent wall that would be the space of her future desk, and yes, the ceilings were vaulted with windows to match. It was beyond.

“Daddy!” She squealed, running around the space and dreaming up renovation ideas. “This is the one. It’s, like, perfect.” Dylan ignored the real estate agent when she repeated the price tag. 1.2 million may have been a lot for some people, but some people weren’t his little girl and Angela should have known that by now. “Wait. I need to call Chanel!”‌ Dylan could bet she’d be calling Chanel the day Play got down on one knee ( What?‌ A girl could dream ) before she even said yes. She was greeted with a selfie when she unlocked her phone, tapping her chanel platform sneaker clad foot against the wood while the facetime call connected, “What do you think about staining the floor another color?” She asked before absolutely beaming when Chanel’s face appeared on the screen.

“I found it! I found the perfect space.”‌ Without another word, she flipped the camera and did a little dance when Chanel’s excitement nearly exceeded hers. She knew a squeal of absolute glee when she heard one, “I know! Ok, so Just imagine a chaise here, we can install some shelves here. Do you think we can get a Prosecco fountain?…” She walked her through the office like Angela had done moments before, moving out of earshot so her dad could handle business, while they discussed all the possibilities. “Today an office with a view, tomorrow Dylan Davenport’s Fashion Academy,” she beamed.

All her daddy had to do was sign on the dotted line, and she knew he would. He was, after all, her doer. He wouldn’t dare break that illusion…right? The journey from the bathroom back to the main area of the office space was a short one, and she was all smiles until she rounded the corner only for her dream to turn into a nightmare. Her face cracked along with the screen of her phone as it hit the ground and shattered, “DADDY!” She screamed. The sight of her dad and Angela kissing over paperwork causing her to gag instantly.

“Honey, let me explain…..”

There was nothing to explain. Horrible step parents was Jasper’s lane, not hers.

( Alexa, play Ring Off )

ANYTHING ELSE?

1985.