#couldn’t remember if your rules said that you had to move to a new post so if not I’m sorry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

muse-oleum · 7 months

Text

Always & Forever

okay, hi, welcome, i'm really unsure about this because i've never written something quite so heavy or, in fact, anything Elejah at all so, um, be nice? pwease? and if you see typos, as always, no you didn't. this came about because i recently re-read two masterpieces of the Elejah variety: We Remain, by Anonymous Obssesser (@deathloveshischicagopizza on this platform, sure hope i got that right lmao) and She's Come Undone and Set Free, by @terapsina. and it got the brain juices flowing and the creative bugs going.

you can find me here on ao3. this has also been cross-posted over there.

WARNING: very brief discussion of non-con/rape (because Damon is a dick) but it's more implied than anything else.

as for my ElijahxOC fic readers (if there are any here) i swear to god i'm in the process of writing a new chapter, i promise.

Always and forever.

Looking up at the intimidating walls of the infamous Abattoir, Elena kept those words close to her heart, like a talisman against the dangers she knew lurked inside.

She wasn’t afraid of him. She never truly had been, aside from their first meeting, forever ago in that decrepit mansion in the middle of nowhere. But she was unsure about his brother, and the kingdom he ruled over. Even now, a mere hour after the sun had set, she could see vampires flitting in and out through the doorway, obviously on a mission for their evil hybrid overlord.

Elena took a deep breath, calming her heart. She’d sworn to herself that she wouldn’t think of him in those terms anymore. They were long past that, they had to be, for her own sanity. Besides, the moral high ground was no longer hers to stand on.

She took one step, then another, forcing her legs to move despite the fear. She knew she couldn’t stay the way she was, alone and scared. She knew who she could trust.

She always had.

Hyperaware as she was, she could feel everything. The stares on her as she made her way through a square courtyard, the back and forth glide of her purse against her hip, the smell of blood and bourbon—a scent she had come to associate with New Orleans—but most of all she felt the moment he saw her, as if ripples crashed against her chest in tiny little shockwaves.

A vampire zoomed in front of her, fangs out, eyes flashing red, no doubt trying to intimidate her; that’s how vampiric hierarchy worked (another thing they had neglected to teach her). He didn’t know she had known far, far worse.

She often wondered if the Salvatores knew the first thing about being vampires. She supposed she was lucky Rose had told her some things, the last time she was in town, such as how to act around older, stronger vampires before you inadvertently got your head swiped clean off your shoulders. Or else, she probably would have been long dead, again.

Still, she submitted, as she had always done. She cast her eyes down, her jugular on clear display, and waited. The vampire, a dark-skinned man with wide eyes, immediately stood back, cocking his head slightly. Then he straightened, a telltale look of fear in his eyes.

“I’d recommend not doing that again, Diego.”

His voice, soft and dangerous, just the way she remembered it. But the danger was never for her, not even when he’d cracked the earth open and abandoned her to his sister’s less than tender mercy in that underground cave he knew so well.

Elijah Mikaelson was dangerous.

To everyone else.

“Elena.”

She fought to keep her eyes open. She couldn’t help it, she’d missed the sound of her name on his lips. The way he accented the word a little differently than everyone else, how even when he was stressed or angry, he’d always said her name with a little bit of wonder, an awestruck tone she couldn’t quite understand. She had always been special, she knew—to her parents, their little girl; to her brother, his only sibling; to her friends, the listening ear; to the brothers, for her face; and then, to him. She didn’t understand how she was special to him, but she was, she knew it. His tone of voice gave him away, every time, the soft lilting of the syllables, pronounced with care, each of them a caress that soothed some strange part of her brain.

“Elijah.”

She met his eyes, wider and darker than she remembered them. Actually, no, that wasn’t right, they had been even darker in Willoughby, when he’d kissed her.

Not her. Katherine.

She forced the thought away, she couldn’t afford to dwell on that now. She had other, bigger, problems only an Original brother could help her with. She almost thanked Klaus and his godforsaken curse for bringing him into her life, however inadvertently, because she wasn’t sure what she would have done without him now.

Probably staked herself.

“Can we—” she faltered a bit, eyeing the vampires listening in, trying to pretend they weren’t interested in what a baby vampire could have to say to the king of the city that would warrant even a moment of his time. Because he was the king, she had no doubt about that. Klaus may be the face, but Elijah was the hand behind it all.

She swallowed, putting her blinders on, taking a deep breath. “Can we talk?”

He observed her, his head tilted to the side, a small frown on his brow. She could tell her demeanor alone puzzled him, but she wasn’t surprised. After all, the last time he’d seen her, she’d been on a rampage across the country, his little sister in tow, searching for a cure she obviously had not taken. He rallied quickly, turning halfway, gesturing to door behind him. It led to an indoor dining room area and she briefly panicked; It was too reminiscent of the boarding house.

“Not—not here, hum… Would you mind…?” She turned back towards the lobby, the doors still wide open.

He softened, his hands going back into his pockets. A clear message to her—an everyone else—that he meant no harm. She’d learned that particular tell of his long ago.

“Of course.”

She felt his hand at the small of her back as they walked outside into the evening air. She still felt slightly claustrophobic indoors, even in an open courtyard, the presence of a dozen vampiric eyes on her certainly not helping. It reminded her too much of the almost scientific fascination the brothers had when they were trying to force her back into a humanity she wasn’t certain she wanted anymore.

And therein laid her problem.

The switch was back on, she knew that; she could feel it, just as she herself simply… felt. But it wasn’t pushed back completely, there was a jam, a missing piece, a core memory she still couldn’t access. Part of her wondered if it was for her own good, the other part wanted to let everything back in and be done with it. As things stood now, she had only half the story behind her sudden emotion-free spree, and she knew there was more lurking behind that door.

But she wasn’t sure how to access it on her own, and she needed the help on the only other vampire she could trust to do it right.

This limbo state—on but not on; back to herself but not completely—made her incredibly vulnerable. She could feel the imbalance in her soul, as corny as that sounded, because she was missing something—something she needed in order to move on fully, to become herself again, even in this new skin.

Caroline couldn’t help her, although she understood what the problem was and it was ironically her who had suggested the solution that had been staring her in the face all this time. She needed help from someone who had studied vampirism better than anyone else, and that person walked by her side now, silent as he let her gather her thoughts. She took a breath, let it out, relishing the fresh air.

Well, as fresh as it could be in the Big Easy.

“Where are we going?” She asked, her voice still too small for her liking. She wasn’t afraid of him, dammit! She was simply afraid of every other man. But she didn’t know how to let him know that, and she could tell he was worried.

“What would you prefer?” He asked right back, ever the gentleman.

She shrugged. “You know the city better than I do.”

He smiled. “There’s a bar not far that my siblings and I like to frequent on occasion. Unless you would prefer dinner?”

She shivered slightly, either to the thought of “dinner” or his voice, she wasn’t sure.

“The bar will do.”

She wasn’t even surprised when he opened the door to Rousseau’s, she really should have known. He noticed her half-smile when they sat down, cocking an eyebrow in question. She shook her head, amused.

“That’s the first bar I stopped at when I first arrived in the city.” Figures you’d do the same, but she didn’t say that.

“Yes, it’s quite… quaint,” he replied, lips quirking up slightly, somehow managing not to make it sound like an insult, “it’s also where I first stopped by when I came back.”

Yeah, figures.

“Did you know it, back in the day?”

He shook his head, smiling a little more fully as a blonde bartender approached them. “Not very well, it was ran by a werewolf family my brother and I preferred to avoid dealing with whenever possible.”

“NOLA problems?”

“NOLA problems.”

The bartender, Camille, judging by her name tag, reached their table and Elena was surprised when Elijah engaged her in a short but clearly familiar conversation. Camille seemed equally surprised to find him here at this hour, seated with a woman. Clearly, it wasn’t a habit of his. She chose not to analyze how that made her feel.

“What can I get you?” She asked with a friendly smile. She really was quite beautiful.

Unsurprisingly, Elijah asked for bourbon. Elena stifled a laugh, asking her to make her whatever she fancied most. This time, it was Elijah’s turn to chuckle and Camille joined him, shaking her head.

“Family habit, I see.”

Elena froze, eyes growing wide, but Elijah didn’t contradict her and Camille went on her merry way back to the bar, only throwing one furtive glance back.

“Family habit?”

Elijah shook his head, rearranging his glass so it sat just so in front of him. She valiantly resisted the urge to push it back just to mess with him.

“I may or may not have told her the exact same thing when I first met her. She’s become somewhat of a friend of ours since then.”

“She seems nice.”

He nodded, pensive again. She managed to hold eye contact for all of three seconds before looking back down at her hands, fiddling with the string of her purse.

“Elena.”

She looked back up just as Camille brought them their drinks. Cautiously, she took a sip, surprised at the depth of flavors that exploded on her tongue. Her wonder must have shown on her face because Camille laughed.

“I’ve learned a thing or two about making vampires drinks. I hope it’s to your taste?”

Elena shot her a look, taken aback, but Elijah simply smiled.

“You can call me Cami, by the way. I hate my full name but Elijah still hasn’t fully internalized that yet.”

The man in question simply sniffed, the epitome of snobbishness, and Elena laughed. It wasn’t her laugh from before, but she had missed the sensation anyway.

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you but I don’t think he ever will.”

Cami sighed dramatically, tucking her tray under her arm.

“Yeah, I think I got that. Anyway, enjoy!” She gave them another smile and moved on to another table.

With her gone, Elena was once again confronted by her own feelings, bubbling up to the surface. The drink helped, turning down the faucet of emotions a little, just so she could breathe without it hurting too much. She brought her hands on the table, lowering her drink, her index finger running in circles around the rim.

“Elena?”

This time her name was a question, one she couldn’t hope to evade. She shouldn’t anyway, that’s why she was here in the first place but damn was it hard to force herself to look back up into his eyes.

“What happened?”

He asked the question flat out, the frown returning.

“How do you know anything happened?”

“Because I know that nothing would bring you within a hundred miles of my brother of your own free will.”

“I’m here of my own free will,” she said, too quickly. His frown deepened.

“Is anyone here with you?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, I came on my own.”

His eyebrows shot up right into his hairline and she supposed she couldn’t blame him. After all, when had the Salvatores ever let her do something on her own, much less when it involved him?

“They…” she swallowed, “they don’t know I’m here. Nobody does.” She released a quiet laugh, but it sounded hollow. “I expect they’re all up in arms back home, wondering where I’ve gone.”

She looked back down at her drink, taking a sip. Her finger beat a restless rhythm against the glass. Slowly, Elijah reached over, giving her time to evade him if she wanted to, and brought his hand to cover hers.

“Elena, sweetheart, what happened?”

The endearment flowed from his lips seemingly without his own accord, if the slight widening of his eyes was any indication. His jaw clicked shut, his eyes flickered back down to their hands, but he didn’t take it back.

Elena rather liked the way it sounded.

She took a breath.

“You know my humanity was off a few weeks back, yes?”

Of course, he knew. She’d practically spat it in his face right before Katherine did a very Katherine thing and snapped her neck like a twig. Idiot.

He just nodded silently.

“Well, what I didn’t tell you back then was that I, hum… I—I was sired. To Damon. He—I… There was… a sire bond. Between us.”

Elijah went deadly still, the motion of his thumb running across the back of her hand stilling. His eyes hardened impossibly, but she knew whatever it was that he was feeling, it wasn’t meant for her. Or rather, it wasn’t aimed at her.

“You were sired,” he said flatly, tonelessly.

And here was the Elijah she remembered from that mansion in the fields.

“It was… a side effect, I just… I—” she faltered, her eyes dropping back to her hands. She tried to escape his grasp but he wouldn’t let her, resuming his caress. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and the tension bled from his shoulders.

“Did he know?”

No use disguising it.

“Yes.”

The air became even more still.

“He knew you were sired to him while the two of you were together?”

Elijah looked faintly sick, the tick in his jaw growing more intense.

“Yes.”

Another deep breath, deeper than the last. She felt his hand twitch over hers, but the soothing motion of his thumb never stopped.

“Did he attempt to free you, at least?” He asked. She shook her head. And then he asked the question she’d been dancing around for the past twenty minutes. “Did he demand you turn it off?”

Elena heard the unspoken question, the one she knew would tip it all over. But she couldn’t lie to him, she’d never been very good at it anyway.

“Yes.”

Everything went quiet, the air became electric, like the calm before the storm, right before the first rumble of thunder could be heard and the first lightning strike the sky clean in half. Right now, Elijah’s eyes were that sky, dark and stormy, a rage so potent in them she was strangely fascinated by it. The muscle of his jaw tensed impossibly more and she worried he might crack it entirely.

She had never seen him so angry.

If not for the soft contact between their hands, she might have been a little scared. Just a little. Because she remembered those words and in that moment, there was perfect clarity.

Always and forever.

She was quite certain that, should she ask him to end her sire, to bring her his head, he would. Happily, gleefully and without a hint of regret. She wasn’t sure she herself would feel any, and wasn’t that a nasty little surprise.

She should feel regret. She knew that even just bringing up the subject with him meant placing Damon (and by extension, Stefan) in the line of fire, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret anything. She’d waited so long to give voice to those feelings—the shame, the disgust, the loathing, the pain. She would not take them back now.

“Say the word, lovely Elena, and he will suffer.”

It really shouldn’t have been even remotely attractive, the way he said it. But it was, and she let herself feel it.

“I… I don’t know what I want.”

Elijah nodded, a tiny movement of his head, but full of understanding. She took a breath. One hard part was done, but there was still the larger question, looming in the back of her skull. She was more than a little worried, though. What she wanted to ask him—what she needed him to do… that would violate the terms of their friendship like never before. She didn’t want to ask it of him but she knew she needed to remember something else, and for the life of her she couldn’t remember what. But she knew it was important. Her brain was shielding her for a reason, but she—the Elena who had had her choices taken from her at every turn since her transformation—needed to know.

Or else how could she hope to feel whole again?

So, she straightened, automatically readying herself to launch into an x, y, z explanation of why that was the best choice—and why she was making it.

“There’s something else.”

Elijah tensed, she was surprised that she managed to notice it at all.

“But we can’t do this here…” she chewed on her lip, eyes flickering between him and the other patrons in the bar. “Is there somewhere… somewhere more…” she gestured wordlessly, tired already.

But Elijah had never needed words to understand her, certainly not with the way he was watching her now. It was strangely reminiscent of a hawk, but it wasn’t discomforting.

Maybe an owl. A wise, old owl trying to figure out the puzzle before him. Funnily, she had never before thought of herself as “puzzling” but judging by his look, she might have to reconsider. She was, in her honest opinion, an incredibly simple person: she loved her family and friends, was far too oblivious of things until it was too late, took her coffee ninety percent black, and never failed to help out when it was needed.

But looking at herself in Elijah’s dark brown eyes the reflection she saw was not one of simplicity.

“There is somewhere more discreet. I doubt anyone will be here at this hour.”

“Not even vampires?” She asked as he helped her out of her chair.

He smirked. Elijah Mikaelson actually honest to god smirked at her.

“They know better.”

She laughed.

❧

“A church? Seriously?”

Elijah made a show of ushering her in, suited up arm extended in invitation.

“It’s not even Sunday.”

“Thankfully.”

In the silence of the church, Elena repressed a giggle with great difficulty. It was quieter than a tomb, inside. Although, she really wasn’t sure who had first come up with this particular phrase, but she’d love to hear their explanation because in her informed opinion, tombs were anything but quiet. There was always the whisper of the wind, the pitter-patter of bugs and rodents foraging in the cracked stones paving the way to the afterlife.

Or maybe that was just her experience since she’d turned.

Huh.

She took in her surroundings. It was obvious that the place had sat deserted for a while but had just been opened up again. There were wood planks lined along the walls and several canvas sheets haphazardly thrown around on the pews.

“Where are we?” She asked, taking in the smell of dust, wood and stone.

Elijah’s footsteps echoed behind her. “St Anne’s Church. Our local priest seems to be out tonight.”

“You know the priest?”

He had been pagan, in his youth, right?

Elijah gave her his signature half-smile in response, dragging a finger through the dust that had settled on one the benches. “He’s Camille’s uncle.”

“Small world.”

“Welcome to New Orleans.”

Exhaling on a chuckle, Elena sat down on one of the benches, somewhere between the door and the altar, at the middle point of the nave. She didn’t know why but she didn’t feel good enough to sit at the front. Elijah took a seat next to her, their shoulders brushing together, his presence grounding her. On a whim, before she could think better of it, she grasped his hand, gripping perhaps a little too tightly. He didn’t complain, simply resuming his earlier soothing caresses on the back of hers.

“I need to ask you something, Elijah.”

“You can ask anything of me, lovely Elena.”

He was sincere. She didn’t have to look at him to know that.

“You probably won’t like it.” She warned.

He tilted his head in question; she heard the soft sound of his collar brushing against his jaw.

She took the plunge and braced herself for the ice cold rush of the water.

“I need you to compel me.”

❧

Whatever it was that Elijah had expected to hear, it certainly wasn’t that.

His shoulders tensed on instinct, his lips parting on a soft gasp. Elena’s hand gripped his tighter, perhaps afraid he would let go.

He never could have, anyway.

Her eyes flickered up to meet his, meeting the wide-eyed stare he couldn’t even begin to disguise. There was a pleading at the bottom of hers, pooling in the form of tears that gathered on her lashes before falling softly, tracing her cheeks with wet streaks. He fought against the urge to wipe them away.

“I need you to help me remember something. There’s… I—” she took in a breath, exhaled, completely oblivious to the feeling that ignited in him when heard the words “need” and “you” in the same sentence, coming from her. She tried again. “There’s something… something I can’t place, a… a darkness that lingers at the edge of my mind when I try to think back on what happened.”

He brought his hand up then, unable to face her tears and remain still. He caught a strand of her and brought it behind her ear, revealing more of her beautiful face. The wide doe eyes that met his could only belong to her.

“What happened when?” He prompted, gently running his thumb back and forth along her jaw.

She sighed, leaning into his touch. He marveled at being able to touch her so freely.

“When I was still sired to Damon.”

The way she bit out the words made his heart clench. There was indeed something in her eyes, a strange haunting of sorts. It darkened the edges of her eyes slightly, turning warm brown into dark chocolate. It would have been quite bewitching if not for her tears.

Centuries of instinct suddenly woke up in his chest, growling as it shook itself awake, unfurling from a long sleep.

“I just… I need to make sure of something.” She rushed on, “I know that my brain is likely trying to protect me but—” she growled softly, tugging her hair back, “but I don’t want to be protected. I want to remember it all.” He brushed his thumb under her eyelid, catching a single tear, making her sigh again. She seemed to shrink, releasing his hand and drawing her arms around herself. He recognized it for the protection mechanism it was.

The beast in his chest growled louder.

“I feel like half myself and I don’t even know why. It’s exhausting.”

She looked back up at him, her beautiful eyes full of unshed tears that threatened to fall at any moment. He was powerless to resist. He knew then he would do whatever it was she asked of him if only to never have to see her cry again.

“Tell me what you need me to do.”

The relief in her eyes was unmistakable. He realized with a start that she had expected him to argue with her. He pursued his lips, caressing her jaw again. These… children truly had worked a number on her.

“I need you to compel me to remember it all. Tell me to remember everything that happened while I was under the influence of the sire bond.” She said in as determined a tone as he had ever heard from her.

And so, he complied.

Gently, he took her face in his hands, holding her tenderly, like she was made of porcelain. He supposed, in his hands, she always would be. And he compelled her, her pupils dilating as she took in his order, body growing first lax and then as taught as a bowstring. Her hand shot out to dig into his thigh and the feeling would have registered as painful if his attention hadn’t been fixed on the utter devastation on her face.

She took a breath but it came out as a sob, a heart wrenching sound that tore him apart.

“He… oh my god, he—” she looked up at him, wide-eyed, and he felt the beast in his heart bare its teeth, “he… he didn’t… oh god—oh god, no, I—I didn’t want to! I didn’t! Oh my god—” she whimpered, and he finally couldn’t take it anymore.

Slowly, gently, he took her in his arms as she sobbed. She molded to him, her small hands gripping his shirt so tightly he was certain she would rip it off. She curled up, half in his lap, and buried her head against his neck, her tears soaking his collar.

He was certain of only one thing as he gently rocked her against him, wincing as the scream she let out into his shoulder tore though his heart.

Damon Salvatore would die a slow, painful death for what he had done.

❧

Elena wasn’t sure how long she cried in Elijah’s arms, only that he never once let her go. He was careful not to hold her too tightly, and she knew he had understood the magnitude of what she had just uncovered.

Damon hadn’t stopped himself from sleeping with her while she was under the influence of the sire bond. He hadn’t tried to free her from it, once he’d known, and he’d carried on as things were and she, helpless to do anything but please him, had done exactly just that.

But now, with the veil lifted, she knew in her heart that she hadn’t wanted to. It was too soon after Stefan, too early in her transition. The feelings of love had been heightened by her Turning and by the sire bond, turning into a deadly cocktail of dependence. If only she had known.

She whimpered, a broken sob wrenching its way out of her—how many did she have left? It couldn’t be many, she was so very tired.

Elijah’s arms tightened around her, his hand stroking her hair gently. She felt the ghost of his lips at the crown of her head, the touch doing more to calm her than anything had so far.

She hadn’t wanted to sleep with Damon. But she had anyway, forced by the sire bond.

And it should matter to her that he hadn’t known that. That he hadn’t known that she didn’t want him like that, not yet anyway, but it didn’t. It should matter that, technically, he had also been a victim of the sire bond, unable to stop it, but it didn’t. Because once he had known, he hadn’t taken steps to help her out of it and she wasn’t in a position to help herself.

He got exactly what he wanted.

A Katherine do-over.

Elena barely registered the anger before she was flipping an entire bench over, throwing it against the walls of the church. There was a vicious feeling in her chest, clawing its way out and she lashed out again, ripping the legs off of the bench and breaking them in half, the wood splintering into her hands, drawing blood from cuts that healed almost immediately.

Fury, that was the feeling.

It was so unfamiliar that she was momentarily stunned by the sheer force of it.

Her eyes flashed red, veins rippling on her cheeks and she flipped another bench on its head before collapsing on the floor, crying again.

She had loved him. Had been on her way to falling in love with him.

And he had betrayed her.

She was so very tired. Tired of feeling, tired of remembering, tired of existing. The pain of that betrayal, the shame that came with it, added to the duller, less pronounced pain of his hand in shutting off that part of her that made her her protruded from her heart in sharp edges and she distantly wondered if that’s what being staked felt like.

Until she felt Elijah’s arms around her once more. Effortlessly, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her like she was something infinitely precious to him. She barely registered the blur of movements and the wind in her hair that indicated he was running. She was so bone tired that the comforting warmth of the blanket he draped over her before running a hand down the side of her face barely registered with her either.

Through the haze of her tears, she saw his face, eyebrows drawn together in worry. He tucked the blanket a little higher under her chin and she managed to grasp onto the edges, burrowing under it.

“Is there anything you need?” His voice was pained, a small crack the dead giveaway to the unbelievable fury she could feel rolling off him.

She shook her head, sniffling.

“Do you want me to call your friends? Caroline, perhaps?”

All she could do was shrug, entirely unsure about everything. Her world had just toppled over. But Elijah hadn’t. He was here, as stalwart as he had always been and there was at least an inkling of hope that lit up in her at that.

She had been right.

She was right to trust him.

#now imagine when she discovers what Damon did to Caroline?#basically that's terapsina's fic and for that reason alone you should 100% go read it #the dynamics between Elijah and Elena here are heavily inspired by Anonymous Observer's fic #it's an absolute masterpiece my friends #10/10 recommend #anyway i might turn this into a series over on ao3 but no promises #elijah mikaelson #elena gilbert #elijah x elena #elejah #fanfic #tvdu #tvd fandom #the originals #to #my writing #Elena goes to NOLA and reunites with Elijah #who's still 100% whipped

37 notes · View notes

sparkles-oflight · 2 months

Text

Polaroid Photos - Part 3

Master Post | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

Hi everyone. Long time no see. You might have noticed I changed the chapter count. You'll get 4 chapters because I couldn't finish all the plotlines I wanted in 6k haha.

Also, I added one more trope to this... hehe. Chaos.

In this chapter, we have mentions of vomiting (really quick ones) and we deal once again with homophobia and queer problems (it's basically the soul of these two chapters haha)

Sources for what's real or not are below! (If you don't see something that should be there, I probably put it in the last chapter's sources list)

The door shut.

He was slammed against the small table next to it. His hands grabbed it as his knuckles turned white and his nails craved new marks on the wood.

He had hands on his head, a mouth on his mouth, then on his chin, then neck. It was warm, it was hungry.

He chuckled.

It wasn’t the first time he brought someone home. He had done it countless times. But he loved to bring this person to his house over and over and over again.

He drove him completely insane.

- Shush… - he grabbed the man’s shirt and slowly pulled away – Nace, what did I tell you about pushing me?

Nace pulled away and smiled.

- Don’t tell me you don’t like it.

And he can’t deny it, he loved being manhandled by him. Not today though.

- I would rather you obey the rules. – he pushed Nace’s hair away from his face – Do you remember them?

- Your house, your choice.

- Exactly.

- And what has mister Peteh chosen?

Jan put his fingers on Nace’s chin and pulled him closer. Their lips were so close to each other that Nace could feel his breathing against his mouth. When a smirk formed on the younger’s lips, it made Nace falter a little in his steps.

- Today, I’ll take care of you.

- Sounds tempting.

Jan was about to kiss Nace when they were suddenly interrupted by a loud sound coming from a small figure. Igor.

- Well, maybe I should give him a snack first. – Jan gave him a quick peck and pulled away – But you go to my room and I’ll be there in no time.

“My room” is a weird thing to say, in Jan’s opinion. Jan spends a lot of nights in Nace’s house and when he does come back to his own apartment, Nace is always with him. They were basically living together - clothes scattered around both apartments.

- Okay, I’m ready. – Jan says as he closes the bedroom door.

Jan was certain of one thing: he was utterly in love with Nace.

Jan had loved a lot of things throughout his life—the first of them being music.

He doesn’t remember when it started, but he remembers what it felt like when he heard music through his own headphones and felt comfort in it for the first time.

It was always there for him. Music was there when he needed peace in his mind, when he wanted to sleep, when he felt happy and energetic. It was everything. It provided security, a friendly hand when everything seemed dark.

The first time Jan liked someone he was 12.

There was this cute girl from another class with very pale skin, chubby, light brown hair, and brown eyes. Jan talked to her a few times. Her name was Karolina.

One day, he decided to talk to his classmate who was friends with Karolina, Ema, on how he should approach her. Ema told him she’d talk to her, and he should have an answer by the following day.

The next day came along, and Ema told him Karolina didn’t want to talk to him again.

- Oops, she said she doesn’t want to talk to you. Sorry, guess you are just not her type. – she laughed.

It was mean. The way she said it was mean. But 12-year-old Jan accepted it. And, once again, music was what helped him deal with the situation. Karolina ended up moving out to Ljubljana the following year.

Two years later, Jan went to Italy with his class. He made some friends there including a girl called Francesca. She was part of the dance team of the school they visited.

Jan couldn’t point out exactly what made him so attracted to her. Whether it was the way she behaved and how she filled the room with her loud laughs, and melodic voice or if it was something physical.

Francesca looked nothing like Karolina. She had short hair which gave her a bit of an androgynous look, tan skin, dark brown hair, and eyes. She was one year younger.

- I’m actually going to Slovenia during the summer with my parents. – she said – Maybe we can meet up then?

When Francesca went to Slovenia, Jan made sure to be her personal tour guide. He showed her his favorite spots, his friends, important historical places, and most importantly, the Ljubljanica river where Jan confessed his feelings to someone for the first time…

- Fran… I have to tell you something. – Jan cleared his throat – I… I like you… Like. A lot. Ti amo.

“I love you”, it had been the first time Jan said those words out loud. Even if in another language, it was a powerful statement.

What he met in Fran’s eyes were tears being held back. Jan was mortified when he felt her trembling hands on his, so he gripped them more.

- I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have said that-

- No, it’s fine… it’s just. – she breathed and calmly continued as the tears rolled down her cheeks – Jan… I like you too, but- Fuck I’m crying. – she laughed – It’s just… I haven’t been totally honest with you.

She hadn’t been honest? How come? Sure, they hadn’t spent that long together, but he was sure that-

Before his brain started spiraling further, Fran began speaking.

- I don’t know if I’m the right person for you…

- Why not? Slovenia and Italy are neighbors. You practically live next door.

- No, I mean… Okay Jan, nobody knows this. Can you keep it a secret?

Jan nodded.

- I’m not… a girl. I mean, I was born in a girl’s body, but I am… hell, I don’t know. I’m not sure if I’m a boy either it’s just… something’s off. I am both. Or none of them, I don’t know.

Jan had never thought about who he was attracted to. He always did whatever his heart felt like it was right. He always did as his heart told him. When Jan was in love, it produced beautiful melodies. And right now, his heart produced a nice sound despite the new info. Jan didn’t feel any less attracted to Fran just because she wasn’t either a girl or a boy. Jan just liked her as a person.

- And I don’t think this confusion in me should-

- Hey. – he wiped the tears coming out of her sobs.

- It’s just that… I don’t want to be a bother.

- You don’t bother at all. I couldn’t care less about what you identify with. I like you because you are you. Girl or not.

Fran’s expression changed suddenly. It seemed as if the whole world had just lightened up in one second.

- Jan! – she hugged him so strongly he almost had to pull away to breathe.

Then she whispered something against the jacket he couldn’t catch so he pulled back to look at her.

- Anch'io ti amo.

“I love you too”.

He smiled. God… he was happy.

- Should we kiss or…? – Jan asked.

That’s what people do when they like each other right? Fuck, he didn’t think that ahead.

- Yes, we can kiss. – she smiled back at him.

It was there, Jan had his first kiss, and it was with someone who wasn’t a girl. But she wasn’t a boy either. Just a person trying to find themselves out.

When Jan got home, he searched for everything he could concerning gender identity and sexuality.

“Queer”, that’s a label that fitted with him. Yeah, that works…

Fran? Was she perhaps… Non-binary? Or maybe not. Jan isn’t sure if she even cares about the label’s name.

Jan thought it was a beautiful thing to be able to love everyone he wanted and for people to be able to present themselves however they wanted. But then he scrolled down, and down, and down…

Countless cases of homophobia and transphobia end in tragedies. Jan was scared. Jan grew scared of acting how he wanted in his home country – a country in the Balkans. Prejudice was something Jan wasn’t ready to fight against and he wasn’t ready to tell anyone that he wasn’t… Jan wasn’t straight. He’d keep that secret within him.

Fran and Jan’s love story only lasted for so long. After a couple of months, Fran broke up with Jan due to the long distance. They stayed friends.

Music found a way to warm Jan’s heart yet again. He had always been fascinated by the old guitar they had in the living room, but never had the courage to touch it.

- Mom… dad... can I start taking music lessons? – he asked.

His parents didn’t seem opposed to the idea until Jan said:

- I want to study in Ljubljana.

Ljubljana was quite far away from Vrhnika. But he knew it was possible. Ema, for example, was going to Ljubljana every week to do gymnastics.

- Why? – his dad asked.

- It has this teacher I’d really like to study under and in Ljubljana…

Jan was too scared to admit it, but… Here he goes.

- I would like to be a musician when I grow up. Just like Matej. And I’d have more chances in the capital.

His brother was a music producer. One time, Jan tried to create a music track, which Matej made it 10x better in mere minutes. But Jan wasn’t one to give up. If he was to become a musician, he would do it well. He would aim high.

- Jan, music is not for everyone. – his mother said – Especially in Slovenia. No one ever makes it big and I�� we are not sure if you should take the same path as your brother.

- Mom, I can study something else as well. – he proposed – I would just like to start with a good teacher and see if I like it enough to keep it going. It’s not going to stop me from studying and getting into a university. And-!

Jan kept showing all the ways he could make the trips to Ljubljana work and how he was willing to pay for his classes if he found a job during the weekends. In the end, his father asked:

- Is this really what you want to do?

- More than anything.

His father glanced at his mother who nodded and after a sigh he declared:

- You can study in Ljubljana.

- Yes! I just need you guys to authorize me to work and-

- Jan, we will pay. Besides, you are too young to work. You can pay us after you graduate. We don’t want you to be overloaded, deal?

- Deal.

Jan hugged his parents and thanked them countless times, even offering to cook risotto for dinner as a gratitude gesture. His parents refused.

Music, to Jan, ran in his blood – it was his blood. Without music, the world had no meaning and no place for Jan. And that’s why Jan has to belong to that world. And he worked hard on getting better and better.

That’s when his teacher presented him to a skinny pale kid with a half-assed haircut and piercing blue eyes. He didn’t seem friendly at first, but Jan understood him. He didn’t look like the type who came in to make friends. He was very good for someone who had just started, so Jan figures he was just as hardworking as Jan if not more.

- Very well, Jan. – their teacher said – Jan, this is Kris. Kris this is Jan.

- Hello. – Jan smiled at him.

- Hi.

Kris looked stunned after Jan’s little performance and asked more about him on his way to the bus station.

- So… You are from Vrhnika? – Kris asked.

- Isn’t my accent a giveaway?

- Yeah yeah, I was just making sure… Uhm… How do I ask you this? – Kris pulled out his phone and showed him a photo of a girl – Do you know her?

- Ema? Yeah, we used to be classmates. What about her?

- So, I… I kind of like her? – he fidgeted with his hands.

- Is she the reason why you start playing the guitar?

- Something like that.

Jan looked at Kris. “Of course, he is this dedicated to music because of a crush. Love motivates us in interesting ways”, Jan thought. “But if you knew how I feel love, I bet you wouldn’t understand. I think you’d call me all sorts of things. I think you’d stop being near me…” Vil thoughts plagued Jan’s mind whenever something like this happened – whenever people his age were in love with the “right person”. The “right person” is, of course, someone from the opposite sex.

- So… if it’s not much to ask, could you please- Ah, shit. – Kris took his buzzing phone out of his pocket and picked up the call – What do you want, flower boy!?

Jan observed Kris in his call with this mysterious “flower boy”. He looked irritated, but then he smiled. Then he yelled again, but quietly told this boy sweet things after. What was this? Was Kris perhaps-?

- Sorry for this. It’s Bojan, he’s annoying.

- Uhm. I see, it’s okay.

- So, what I was going to say, uhm…

- I can help you with Ema. – he promptly said.

Jan had no fucking clue how to help Kris with Ema.

Ema hates him. Well, at least hated him. They hadn’t seen each other in years. Maybe Ema had changed. I mean, this boy, Kris, couldn’t have possibly fallen for someone like the old Ema.

Jan starts following Ema on Instagram to see what she’s up to nowadays and how he could strike up a conversation with her. However, he’s caught by surprise when he receives a following request from Ema too. Jan accepts it, not sure if it was the best decision or not.

After a few minutes, he gets a notification:

Ema: Heyaaaaa Ema: sorry to bother you but I saw you follow Kris Ema: yk the gustin kid Ema: I was wondering… Ema: how well do you know kris?

Jan didn’t reply for a bit. He had just met the guy. But he wondered why Ema cared so suddenly about his friendship with Kris.

Jan: he is my friend Jan: are you interested in him? Jan: or gustin? Ema: Jaaaaaaaaan always so mean :v Ema: okay, don’t tell him (or do hehe) but I have a MASSIVE crush on him :) Ema: and idk if you remembeeer, but I helped you out once Ema: you can return the favor to this old friend of yours <3

Jan remembers why he doesn’t like Ema: she’s annoying and manipulative. Kris, what the fuck did you see in her?

But as any 15-year-old, Jan helped them both get together, not wanting to let Kris down nor did he want to be forever in debt to Ema, of all people.

After a while, their teacher suggested Jan and Kris play together in a band... which they both seemed eager to start. Buržuazija was created by them and some of their friends.

To celebrate their first concert, Jan and Kris got drunk at Kris’ house. They were outside stargazing, lying on the spiral stairs of his backyard storage shed, so as to not disturb anyone.

- Hehe, Bojan was there. – Kris giggled – And he looked so stuuuuuuuupid. You should have seen him. He knows I’m better than him.

- Why does it matter?

- It matters because I… - he sat up sideways – because I started playing because of him, hehe.

Oh.

Jan had known Kris for a while and understood he wasn’t some homophobe and he looked more than comfortable with sharing physical contact with people of the same sex but-

Jan always thought what made Kris start playing was love. He could see it in the way Kris works so hard to achieve his dreams. He could see it in the way Kris is eager to learn more and more and he could see it in the way Kris moves and smiles at the sound he produces with his guitar. And he thought the source of that love was his stupid crush on Ema, but now-

Jan had joked about Kris liking Bojan countless times, but now he had his suspicions.

- I want to vomit. – Kris announces before he turns to the other side and pours all over his garden.

One day, after one of their shows, Bojan asked Kris for Jan’s number. A couple of days later, Bojan invited Jan into a new band with Martin and Matic. He immediately agreed and said goodbye to his fellow bandmates.

If you ask why Jan changed bands so quickly, he probably wouldn’t be able to come up with an answer. But at the time, what he felt was that he wanted to be near his best friend Kris, and he wanted to understand more about this mysterious figure that was Bojan Cvjetićanin and what drew Kris to him so much.

The day Jan was formerly introduced to everyone, he stopped in his tracks and looked up and down the tallest in the room: Martin, the bass player.

He gulped at the sight. The melody in his heart was playing yet again.

- You like to stare, uh? – Martin chuckled.

Jan cleared his throat and presented himself to the figure.

If it weren’t for Martin’s height and skinny body, maybe he wouldn’t stand out as much as he does, but Jan saw something in his eyes, that he couldn’t quite understand.

After a couple of months in the band, Bojan proposed for them to perform at his girlfriend’s birthday party. They all agreed of course, even if Ivana and Bojan were disgustingly close, but it was when Jan was near the beer that he noticed the presence of a familiar face: Karolina’s.

She had stopped growing and she looked so small from Jan’s perspective, but it was still good old Karolina. Introverted and sweet.

- Hi. – she shyly said.

- Uh… hi.

- I haven’t seen you in a while. After, you know, moving to Ljubljana…

- Yeah. I know.

- Uhm… - she started fidgeting with her hair – I thought it was really good to see you perform up there.

- Uhm, t-thanks. – he stuttered.

They spent the night chatting. Jan learned that Ema had apparently badmouthed him to Karolina - fuck Ema – and that’s why she didn’t want to see him. But after seeing him perform, she thought she’d give it a try. At first, it was awkward, but they ended up making some good talk and exchanging contacts at the end of the night. After a few dates and getting to know each other, Jan eventually asked her to be his girlfriend and she agreed.

With the year of their graduation, Bojan, Jan, Martin, and Matic were particularly busy with schoolwork and didn’t get much time to practice. Then, one day:

Krisko❤️: My girlfriend dumped me

Jan began celebrating over the fact Ema was gone from Kris’ life. Then he remembered his friend was probably not doing so well…

Jan: are you okay? Krisko❤️: I don’t want to talk about it anymore Jan: then what do you want? Krisko❤️: I want to go out! I want to drink! And I want to forget about everything Jan: alcoholic :/

In the end, they decided to go to a nearby gay bar. Jan was more comfortable with the idea of being in queer spaces nowadays. And he wasn’t planning on staying with anyone in there - he was with Karol after all. He just wanted to distract Kris. And he had to admit: he felt safe here.

They stayed mostly isolated at the club. Some guys hit on Kris, but Jan was the one flirting back at them to divert them away from his friend who was feeling emotional.

- And I was just being honest! – Kris laughed after too many drinks to count – I just wanted the best for her.

- Hey! Are you going to drink that? – Jan pointed to Kris’ shirt in which he had spilled bear earlier that night.

- Drink what?

Jan licked the stain making him giggle. He didn’t want to see his friend cry over someone as bitchy as Ema. He wanted him to enjoy himself in this place.

Eventually, Kris started to feel more motivated to talk to people and dance at the club. That’s when Jan lost sight of him and got worried. Did all the gays in Ljubljana have to be giants? Why couldn’t he find a drunk 17-year-old tall kid in the middle of this sea of heads?

When Jan found Kris, he saw something he wasn’t expecting: Kris was kissing Bojan.

“Oh my god, that fruit!” Jan pulled them away and dragged Kris back home. That was it.

On their way home, Jan tried to scold Kris for getting too drunk and for kissing people he wouldn’t otherwise and for leaving his sight and for- Honestly, just as Kris didn’t hear a word of what Jan said, Jan doesn’t remember much of what he said either. The alcohol was hitting him just as hard and making his head dizzy. But it was okay because that meant that Kris and Bojan were finally going to get together and resolve their fucking issues.

Oh, how wrong he was. Of course, these two couldn’t be normal and talk about what happened. No! That would be too easy. Instead, they forgot what happened and Kris fell for Klara.

Well, at least Klara seemed nice. They studied similar fields and seemed to have the same hobbies. She supported his career and decisions, unlike a certain ex Kris had that he refuses to mention.

During the summer, Kris stormed into the rehearsal room and told them that Ema knew about his and Klara’s relationship and told them all the things she told him. Ema is still a bitch.

- Wait, hold on. – Jan stopped Kris’ discourse – What does she mean by the band “broke up once”?

Everyone in the room looked at Jan.

- What? – he asked.

- Jan, did you seriously not notice? – Martin asked.

- What? What did I have to notice?

So, apparently, after Bojan fought with their producer over the creation of Gola, he quietly quit the band and was planning a solo career – news to Jan’s ears – and Kris made him come back by helping him finish composing the song.

- And that’s that. – Bojan concluded

- And how was I supposed to know!?

- Jan, Bojan went radio silent for months! – Kris argued with him – Well, that’s not the point! The point is-

And then he kept rambling and rambling about Ema’s bitchy attitude. Thankfully that’s the last he heard of her.

While Kris was writing Dopamin, he showed up at Jan’s house once to show him the final version before he showed anyone else in the band. Jan could see him visibly shaking. He was strongly gripping his shorts and looked down as a child who had been guilty of something.

- Do you-

Jan was about to ask him about it, but he was interrupted by Kris.

- Please just listen to the song first.

Jan liked the demo Kris presented him, especially the lyrics. According to Kris, it was about Klara, but the only thing that reminded him of Klara was the chemical “dopamine” itself.

- I like this a lot. I think Bojan will like it too.

- Thanks.

A moment of silence goes by. Before Kris breaks the ice again.

- Jan. Jan, I-I. – he stuttered in his words and started fidgeting with Jan’s pillow.

Jan, with his rolling chair, got closer to Kris who was sitting in the bed.

- I… Promise to not tell anyone?

- I promise.

- So… during the band’s break, I… Remember when we went to the gay club?

- Yes, I do.

- I ended up kissing a guy.

- Yes, you did.

- So… I think I liked it? Or the guy? I don’t know… I think I’m some flavor of gay.

Jan face palmed, before taking the pillow away from Kris and putting it back on the bed.

- Lay down. I’m getting a notebook. This is conversion therapy now.

Kris looked scared - eyes dilated. Jan chuckled.

- Kris, I’m joking. I’ll give you a normal therapy session. – Kris released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding – Plus, I was the one who took you to the gay bar, what the fuck do you think I am? A homophobe? Honestly, I am offended.

They both laughed and with that, Kris laid down and he started talking about how it all started and what he felt like. After they were done, Kris asked:

- Jan, how do you know so much?

Jan felt a knot in his stomach. All the voices in his head told him to trust no one with this information, but he fought against them. This was his friend Kris. Kris wouldn’t hurt him.

- Kris, I’m pansexual.

“Pansexual” that’s the label Jan chose some time ago. Possibly after meeting Martin. He is not sure what Martin meant to him yet, but he definitely made things clearer to him. Clearer than Fran did.

- What’s that? Jan, please tell me you are not attracted to pans or something-

Jan took the pillow from behind Kris’ head and hit him lightly, making the younger one laugh.

- Idiot. – he said, smiling.

For a while, the boys tried to fit their careers with their studies and jobs, but, in 2020, everything closed. While in lockdown, Jan and Karol had to get some distance and that’s when he spent most nights talking to the boys online. Hours and hours of calls on Discord talking to his friends, until he started noticing his grades dropping.

- Do you want help? – Martin asked after everyone else left the call and the two of them were left alone.

- I mean, of course.

At first, Martin and Jan would stay until later in call to help each other out with schoolwork. Then it was before the others joined. Then it wasn’t even about homework anymore. It was about listening to music, about philosophy, about space, about science. It was just so nice to have someone to talk about all these things

- When this is over, we can go on a date. – Martin suggested.

- I can show you Vrhnika around.

- Yes, and we will hold our hands as we stroll across the river. – he laughed.

After the first wave of the pandemic was over, Jan and Karolina met in Vrhnika.

When Jan was able to feel Karolina in his palms, kiss her lips, put his hands on her hair, he felt… He felt disappointed. The song in his heart was gone.

Karolina was still Karolina. Same old Karolina. But that’s the problem. His feelings had changed from the distance, she didn’t. And he didn’t have the heart to tell her that the moment they met again wasn’t special. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that they didn’t feel special to him anymore. But even so, he kept dating her. Because that’s what he knew. He had always had old Karolina.

The band eventually reunited, and it was a heartfelt moment between the five of them. Bojan had grown – or claimed to – a couple of centimeters, Matic gained some weight, Kris let his hair finally grow a little, and Martin… Martin was different now. He didn’t stand out because of his height. He stood out because of the thoughts and kindness he had shared with Jan. Martin had become a true gentleman.

In December, Karolina had to talk to Jan about something that was concerning her.

She showed him clearly fake news articles about them both and how Karolina was his wife. She said she has also been getting a lot of people questioning about it in her DMs and she couldn’t keep up with it anymore. She apologized to Jan, and he simply nodded. That’s when she said:

- Jan, I feel you distant. You are just nodding along. And you have been nodding along for months now. Do you even like me anymore? Or are you just with me out of habit?

Jan didn’t say anything.

- Jan, I can’t have you when all you do is nod. Jan… I’m sorry, but this is the last time I want to be next to you.

Jan went silent for a couple of weeks after that.

He had moved on his own with Igor by then. He only got up to feed Igor and to munch on something. He didn’t clean up, he didn’t cook full meals. The food was disappearing from the shelves, and he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to keep refilling them.

It was over. He had to let his first love go after months of Jan dragging on the end of their relationship. It was sad. It was sad because he truly didn’t want to hurt Karolina. And now she was gone.

Kris called. Bojan called. Martin called. Matic called.

Jan’s phone ran out of battery eventually. He didn’t charge it.

Kris called again. And again. And again. And “Brr”, his doorbell rang. Jan didn’t go to the door. It rang for longer. Jan didn’t go to the door. Then he heard the door opening.

- Sorry, Jan. – he heard a voice – I used the spare key.

It was Kris. Of course it was.

For the first time in weeks, there was sound in the apartment. Not even Jan’s heart was producing sounds, not even Igor. Jan’s heart thinks Kris’ voice is a nice sound.

- I don’t have COVID. Do you? – he yelled.

Jan didn’t reply.

- Ugh, of course, you don’t. – Kris said after looking around the apartment – You haven’t opened a window in weeks, let alone go outside.

Kris’ steps grew louder, though Jan could hear he wasn’t wearing shoes, instead wearing his spare pair of slippers.

- I’m entering your room. I don’t mind seeing your balls but I’m giving you some time to dress up if you want to.

No reply. No sound. No nothing.

Kris’ heart picks up as he enters the room.

- Jan? – he calls out in fear – Jan?

He gets closer and touches his shoulder. Jan doesn’t react, but Kris can feel him breathing. That’s good.

- Jan, we have been all worried about you.

Jan uttered:

- Where did you get the key?

- Karolina gave it to me.

Jan covered himself more with the duvet.

- Jan! – Kris took the duvet away from him – Fuck this, I’m not letting you stay like this.

He grabbed Jan’s hand and noticed how thin his wrist was, but even so, he dragged him out of his bed. Jan fell on his butt.

- Janči, let’s do music, guitars, piano, tuba whatever the fuck you want, I’ll even steal my dad’s most precious equipment so that you can play something. But please let’s do something!

Jan chuckled. So, it was Kris’ turn to help him now?

- You laughed! Ah! Jan, please let me help you.

Kris kneeled in front of him and cupped his friend’s face.

- Please let me help you… Let me Janči… I-

Jan looked at Kris’ eyes and noticed how he was holding back tears.

- Jan… I just want my best friend to be okay.

Jan stroked his cheek as the tears were now falling down them.

- And I can cook for you… even that damn risotto you love so much. And-and I can help you clean your apartment! I can-can even t-take you out to bars and- and I can take you to your favorite guitar store and help you with your ho-homework. And I- I want to help you, Jan!

His cries had turned into full sobs. Jan pulled Kris into a soft hug. Weak even. Jan’s body was trying to reserve energy, but he couldn’t see his Krisko like that. Desperate.

Jan kissed him on the side of his head and then pulled away to look into his eyes.

- Thank you, Krisko.

Kris wiped his nose with the back of his hand and smiled. He looked like a mess. Then he walked to the window, looked at Jan – who nodded – and Kris opened the curtains, shutters, and window to let some air and light get into the room. Jan didn’t like the light hitting his eyes.

- Has anyone ever told you you are like the sun, Kris?

- What is that supposed to mean? – he said as he put one of his hands on his hip and the other on the window frame.

- You are annoying when you wake up people in the morning.

- Well, geez, thanks.

- But you are also essential.

A soft smile formed on their lips. After a moment of silence, Kris got out of the room. Jan could hear him opening all the windows and after a few minutes, he heard the younger one using the microwave.

Jan walked out of his room to the living room and Kris came back to him with soup.

- I passed by the store before coming. I assumed you needed to eat something, so I brought you something hot and easy to digest to help your stomach be able to… you know, warm up before you eat a full meal. – Kris set the soup aside on the table – I hope you don’t mind I brought some things for you.

- What did she tell you? – Jan asked the question that plagued his mind.

- Uhm… - Kris pondered, ultimately deciding to be honest – She said she noticed you were more distant ever since the pandemic. Karolina told me about the articles and the harassment and said she couldn’t keep up with this and with the way things were going.

- Uhm… - Jan nodded and started eating the food in front of him.

- I’ll see what clothes you have clean and… - Kris slapped his knees and got up – I’ll get you ready to shower. Okay?

Jan nodded.

After Jan was done eating, he got up and left his things on the kitchen sink. “I need to clean that up”, Jan thought as he looked at the dishes pile.

Jan went to his room to put his phone to charge and yes, Kris removed his bed sheets. “Explains the washing machine noises”.

When Jan entered the bathroom, Kris had filled up his bathtub and refilled his toilet paper stock, bought a new toothbrush, and more shampoo.

- How did you know I was missing all of this?

- I know you too well. Get in the bathtub.

Jan undressed and did as he was told, now feeling better.

- Why are you doing all of this? – he asked.

- Uhm… think of it as my good action for Christmas day.

- Wait, today is Christmas?

- Oh, yeah. That’s why I’m spending the night here as well. I talked to your parents already. The band too. No one is worried anymore, and I told them to not annoy you. By the way, they told me they came to check on you, but-

- I told them to go away, I know.

- I wanted to give you some weeks before I check on you. Honestly, I don’t know if I could have helped the moment the breakup happened. I don’t have a good track with breakups myself. – he chuckled – Turn around, I’m washing your hair.

When Jan was finally facing his back to Kris, he began talking.

- I loved her… for a while you know. – he took a deep breath as Kris’ fingers ran through his hair - But… Kris, I like Martin.

- WHAT!? – Kris pulled his hair.

- STOP, YOU ARE HURTING ME!

- Sorry, Sorry. How did you not tell me!? How long has this been going on!? Does he know!? Did something happen!? When!? Why!? Where!? Actually, don’t tell me! I don’t need to know-

- Kris, shut the fuck up. – he got the younger one’s hand off his hair – I knew you’d react like this, Mom.

- Sorry, sorry.

- It’s just… it’s the first time I like a guy. I mean… a guy that isn’t a celebrity. And he’s my friend and he’s… He’s probably just that: a friend. And I’ve been thinking a lot about it. I walked around the matter over and over. Would I be able to handle being rejected by him? I’m not sure I would.

Kris didn’t say anything, waiting for Jan to put his thoughts together.

- And I’m scared. I’ve always been scared I’d fall for someone I was friends with. And of falling for a guy when I feel like I can’t show them around. I couldn’t even show a girlfriend before she got harassed. I can’t be myself. I can never let people know my true self. I can never-

- Jan. – Kris touched his shoulders and kissed his cheek – The world is shit. And being famous doesn’t make things easier, but… What if… okay I know this isn’t Buržuazija, but what if we, as Joker Out, try to make the world a little bit better? Slovenia better. Vrhnika better. It can be something as small. We can try, and I know we can do it.

Jan looked at Kris, he had the brightest smile.

- Use that love for music to make the world a better place.

♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩

And then Jan told Kris that pulling his hair turned him on.

I loved making gay jokes in this chapter hehe. Sorry for taking so long. Sources:

CHAPTER 3: 1. Jan's first crush: https://youtube.com/shorts/adn0Lzj4LtY?si=FIkfPMj03FeUBoeW 2. Jan and Italy: https://www.tumblr.com/fuckthemforthis/742555943225671680/bojan-languages-georg-cvjeti%C4%87anin-i-also?source=share 3. Jan's first kiss and gf: https://youtube.com/shorts/7iSr3Cg4MxY?si=yyJTbTqbn5H7-cci 4. Jan's first song and his brother: https://www.tiktok.com/@jokeroutsubs/video/7259802154502802715?_r=1&_t=8o4Fbw1L90K 5. Jan didn't know about the band break: https://www.instagram.com/reel/C1wFfuTvrij/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== 6. Just Martin saying he has gone on dates with Jan: https://youtu.be/0KjMRzLKdjY?si=uIMCyFigLHyyf06u&t=157 7. Pretty sure he said the same in this interview but I'm too lazy too find the timestamp: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DuRRrOSUIZE 8. Same interview as the previous one, but Jan calls Kris passionate at 4:28, plus JaRtin flirting is always welcomed in this household

#joker out #joker out jan #joker out nace #joker out kris #joker out fanfic #jan peteh #nace jordan #joker out martin #martin jurkovič #kris guštin #jance #jartin #bokris #(mentioned)

10 notes · View notes

madarasthicc · 4 months

Text

Map to Hope

Madara x female reader

An arranged marriage twenty years in the making comes calling for Madara Uchiha. Now that Konoha has stabilized, his bride-to-be is ready to be at his side. But is Madara ready for what marriage all entails?

//Finally posting chapter 9!!! Y’all can thank @malvikareader for kicking my butt and getting this posted. Hopefully I’ll have 10 up soon as well! Enjoy! Thank you for everyone who’s been enjoying!

Chapter 9: Peace Talks.

[Chapter Eight] -> [Chapter Ten]

[Masterlist]

“I have news.” Ume announced at breakfast. It had both Madara and y/n on edge, remembering the previous morning. Neither knew what could come from her mouth next. “Mother is cleared for travel and will hopefully be here for your wedding.”

“Bachan? Really?!” Y/n was over the table and hugging her mother excitedly. This was great news, probably the best news Y/n had received since coming to Konoha.

“What?” Madara blinked.

“My mother, Lady Yukiko.” Ume said flatly. “Y/n’s grandmother, you know what that is?”

“Mother.” Y/n snapped pulling back from her mother. They really couldn’t go one morning without her mother starting something.

“Hm no, my clan was too busy fighting for our lives to live long enough to have multiple generations. What was your clan doing again?” Madara asked, looking up from his coffee, a bored expression on his face.

“Madara.” Y/n looked over at him, begging him not to fight back. Her mother seemed to know what buttons to push. “Can we have a peaceful breakfast, the three of us for once? Without the snappy comments, or death glares.”

“It’s unfortunate that an Uchiha look can’t actually kill, things might have been easier for you.” Ume pointed out to Madara.

“Mother, you go too far!” Y/n yelled, smashing her cup much to Madara’s and Ume’s shock. “You preach about me being respectful to my fiancé and his clan’s ways, and yet you cannot do the same! Enough. You either follow your own damn rules or perhaps we should look into you moving into a separate house. You cannot both disrespect him and live here.”

“You’d kick me out?” Ume was shocked. Madara was shocked. Completely removing her from the main house hadn’t crossed his mind. He’d never kick his mother in law out on the streets, of course she’d be well cared for. “You’d kick your own mother out of your home? You’re not even married, you are not the lady of this household.” Ume huffed.

“She may not be, but I’m the lord of this home and of this clan that you’re marrying into. And if Y/n doesn’t want you under this roof, then I will find somewhere for you to go.” Madara said, setting his cup down very slowly. “I have been very accommodating, Ume, and I have been as understanding as I can possibly be. But you have continued to test me, and I’m not one to let anyone test me.” He growled, his sharingan swirled to life. “You may be my mother in law, but I demand respect in my household. If you cannot respect my household staff, if you cannot respect Y/n, and especially if you cannot respect me I will make you leave.”

“And is that how you feel, Y/n?” Ume asked, turning to her daughter. Clearly looking for support in this fight. Not that she would get any, Y/n had already made her stance known from the beginning.

“YES. Absolutely. You would not tolerate anyone acting this way in your home. I don't understand why you’re acting this way here.” Y/n said growing rather frustrated. “What was all that talk, “you must respect your husband”, “must be respectful of his clan”, “be respectful around the Uchiha’s and the Senju’s”.” She quoted her mother. “Just just bullshit you expect everyone but you to follow?”

Ume thought over everything. It was clear her words had her mother’s mind reeling unused to not having her support. It had Y/n holding her breath. “You are right …” she took a moment before bowing her head to Madara. “I- I have been out of line.” She finally said.

Both Madara and Y/n were surprised at the turn of events. They shared a look, holding their breath for some snide comment that may come back. For a long moment there was nothing but just them breathing.

“You are lord of the household, I have grown used to running one myself. Of controlling everything and everyone.” Ume said. “I am not the one in control.”

“I’m not here to control you, Ume. But I expect respect within my home, so I will let this go. BUT. But if this happens again, you will find yourself in another home within the compound.” He warned. “I mean it, I will no longer tolerate your disrespect. I truly have let it go on far longer than I would let anyone else.”

“I understand. I apologize that my words and actions have been so disrespectful.” She said slowly sitting up. Ume at least had enough sense to look ashamed, her daughter’s words must have gotten through to her.

“Now!” With a loud clap, Ume and Madara turned their attention to Y/n. “Let’s move on to the good news- baachan is coming! This is what we should be talking about.”

“Your grandmother, so she is not a Cayuga?” He wanted to be sure he understood what side of the family she was from.

“Correct, it’s my mother, she married into the Tanaka clan, but when her first husband died she remarried to my father of the Beppu. She was able to annex the two clans together.” Ume explained. “She was very much in charge despite marrying into both clans.”

“Oh really?” Madara didn’t really understand how any clan would let the wife of the clan head take over unless her husband was gone. It seemed this woman was no mere wife. Clearly not a house wife like his own mother.

“Baachan, is hm she is.” Y/n tried to think of a way to explain. “She was rather strict when I was young, but she’s certainly-“

“She’s become wild in her old age. She smokes, drinks, gambles, and gods know what else - it is distasteful.” Ume huffed, crossing her arms and stuck her nose up in a haughty manner. Honestly it was a funny sight for Madara.

“Really?” He was shocked and tried to imagine an older version of Ume acting in that way. Honestly it was funny to think of someone as strict as Ume being a wild woman at an older age. It certainly would be interesting to see this.

“You’ll understand when you meet her.” Y/n said, patting his arm. “She’ll be here just in time for the wedding. Oh I’m so excited, I haven’t seen her in a few years.” She said, bouncing a bit in her seat.

“She was in a delicate state for some time.” Ume explained. “As she’s regained her health she has certainly changed her lifestyle. Not at all like the mother I knew her to be. Or even when she first became a grandmother.”

“Sounds like it. Reminds me of how you described Ellie.” Madara pointed out, as the explanation reminded him. Perhaps that’s who her grandmother had changed to be like. While himself strict, he couldn’t imagine being so strict to boarding on boring. Especially during times of peace like now. Surely now was a time to enjoy life unlike they had before.

“Ah yes, they could be considered similar.” Ume said. “She was a disciplinary while I was growing up. Actually she was a kunoichi. Even after she ‘retired’ she was still rather strict until the last couple years.”

Madara was quite intrigued by their talk of her. He wondered how she’ll react to Konoha- more importantly, how she’ll react to him. He hoped he passed her approval, he didn’t want to deal with another Ume. Even with a literally fresh agreement in place, it had been almost six weeks of Y/n soothing over his anger, while scolding her own mother. It hadn’t been an ideal situation for anyone but Ume.

Plus there was the actual wedding to think of. Madara hasn’t necessarily forgotten but it hadn’t been on his mind either. He was truthfully enjoying getting to know Y/n, and was looking forward to the wedding. Well, not the wedding ceremony exactly but he was looking forward to the after the wedding part. Just kissing was not enough for him and Y/n seemed just as eager as him when they were alone. They hadn’t done anything under the clothes yet. But that didn’t mean Madara didn’t get a good feel and it was hard not to imagine what she would look like under those clothes. He wouldn’t deny he had touched himself to thoughts of her.

“Speaking of the wedding, I was notified this morning that your dress has arrived and we need to do alterations.” Ume said, returning back to her spot at the table. “Unless you have other obligations, we should have them done today- better do them sooner rather than later.”

“I don’t think we made plans for today.” Madara had to think over his schedule. “I had plans to head down to the school and the training grounds. See how things are coming along, perhaps even review paperwork at the tower but nothing set in stone really.”

“Then alterations for us today.” Y/n said, turning to her mother with a smile. “I can’t wait to see it.” She said, speaking of the dress she had picked out for their wedding. It had been a while since she had first seen a picture of it when she ordered it; she wondered if it would live up to what she remembered.

“Oh there is a seamstress in the village, Kaori, she’s done all the tailoring for myself and many of the high officials within the Uchiha clan. I’d like you to take the dress to her to be fitted.” Madara pointed out. “Plus I’d like to get you fitted for a gift.”

“A gift? Oh, something you picked out for me?” Y/n asked, smiling, it had her wondering what he picked out. Y/n was trying to think what it could be, Madara did not seem like the frivolous kind to just buy things willy-nilly.

“If that is who you suggest.” Ume’s lip thinned, clearly thinking it was probably something for the wedding night.

“Thank you, I’m excited to see what you’ve picked out for me.” Y/n said, trying not to wiggle in excitement. Was it something for their wedding night? Or perhaps a new outfit for her to wear. She had never expected Madara to be the gift giving type.

“Oh no, I asked Kaori to keep it a surprise. She just needs your measures to get it to your size. It’ll be perfect for the festival after the wedding.” Madara said slowly grinning. He was happy to see his bride-to-be excited about a gift he had gotten her. Even if she didn’t know what it was.

“A festival?” Ume and her daughter looked at each other in confusion.

“Of course. Head of the Uchiha getting married, it’s a moment to be celebrated. Plus Hashirama would never let us get away with anything less.” He pointed out. Madara himself could have gone without a festival but Hashirama had insisted and Tobirama hadn’t been any help in diswaying this friend.

“Oh.” Y/n was speechless. There would be a festival, just for their wedding. And Madara had picked something out for her to wear.

“It’ll be our first outing as husband and wife.” He said softly, the two sharing a soft look. It was hard to believe they would be husband and wife in a week's time. The last six weeks had gone by so quickly-getting to know each other, trying to fit in each other’s life.

“Uh hm,”Ume said, clearing her throat. “Then we should be going. We have more alterations than we expected.”

It was clear both had forgotten Ume was even there. The two looked lost looking into each other’s eyes. It had Ume’s heart softened at it, clearly Madara was smitten with her daughter. At least to some degree. Which really, what more could she want for her daughter than a man who liked her?

“Hm yes, I won’t keep you two.” He said finishing his coffee. “Perhaps we can all join for lunch?” He hoped they said yes, he wanted to show his mother-in-law to be that he was a decent person. Maybe if she saw him more than just at dinner that would soften this image she had of him?

“That sounds wonderful, where shall we meet?” Ume said, actually sounding cheerful-like that she was actually interested. Honestly probably the most cheerful Madara had ever heard her.

“We’ll meet you at the Hokage Tower. It’s easy to spot and near a number of restaurants.” Y/n said glad to see her mother acting like her usual self. Nothing like the cold and argumentative person she’s been over the last few months.

“Wonderful, I wish you ladies a good rest of your morning then. And I’ll see you at lunch.” Madara nodded to Ume and then kissed the top of Y/n head before he left.

——

“It’s not as white as I thought it would be.” Ume frowned looking over the dress her daughter had picked. It was clear by the sour look on her face she did not approve.

“Thank divine for that.” Y/n sighed as she held her pose for Kaori to pin pieces that needed to be hemmed. “I like the pastels, something much better than just plain white.”

“It’s a lovely dress, definitely outside the norm. If that was what you were looking for?” Kaori asked, smiling.

“Yes. I just don’t like plain white. It’s not me.” Y/n explained while her mother continued to scrutinize the dress. “The colors are light but still there. And it’s soft.”

“It’s a wonderful fabric. Very similar to what Madara picked for the festival.” Kaori pointed out as she continued to move around Y/n pinning here and there only to pull back to look over her work.

“Are you sure you can’t let me take a peak?” She asked, giving the older woman a pout. Y/n really wanted to know what it was Madara had picked out for this festival that Hashirama had put together for them.

“I’m sorry, Madara asked me to keep it a secret.” Kaori chuckled at the pout on the young woman’s face. “It’s a deep blue color. You’ll look stunning in it. But that’s all I can say-I’ve already said too much.” She said dramatically, looking away as if ashamed.

“You address him by his first name, you must have known him for a long time?” Ume asked, finding it odd a seamstress would talk so informally about a clan leader like that. Especially a man like Madara Uchiha.

“I am an Uchiha.” Kaori pointed out. “I married into the clan, like yourself and originally helped fashion armor. But with my line of work I couldn’t just stay within the compound. This brings me more business being inside the village.” Kaori explained as she went back to her work.

“Ah, that would be why Madara suggested we come to you for her fitting.” Ume nodded in understanding.

“I’ve known Madara since he was young.” Kaori added. “And since he has no other close family, I’ll tell you some embarrassing childhood stories.”

“Really? Oh what was he like growing up? Before now, I had only met him once, and he seemed so serious for a ten year old.” Y/n said smiling.

“Well, he is the second oldest of five.” She explained pinning another piece in place. “For the most part he was a well behaved child. But he had his mischievous moments. He and his sister loved getting into the sweets, oh their mother would get after them so often for it.”

“Oh? I thought he was the oldest.” She knew he was one of five but had assumed he was clan head since he was the eldest.

“Nope, he had an older sister- Myoko, and then came Madara.” She said softly. “Then Togakushi was the middle baby, Kuro was shortly after him, and finally Izuna.” Y/n had heard stories of Izuna, a feared warrior like Madara himself. It made her curious to know more.

“I take it you don’t know about his siblings?” Kaori asked, pulling back and taking a seat - both to rest and to look over what she had done.

“Other than that they have passed on, and that Izuna was Madara’s right hand man. No. Would you mind telling us? I’d love to learn more about his family.” Y/n wanted to sit and listen to stories of Madara. The man rarely talked about himself so it was nice to hear more about him.

“I can tell you about them when they were young.” Kaori said smiling. “Tajima and Ruby, his parents, had children pretty close in age. Two, three years apart.” She explained.

“I wonder if Madara wants that many as well.” Y/n said thinking over it. She had been an only child, but her mother was one of seven. She certainly wouldn’t mind having a large family. Though maybe not right away the idea of starting a family right away was a little nerve wracking.

“You’d have to ask him. They all seemed close to each other.” Kaori said. “Myoko was a very talented child, definitely what parents would call a prodigy.” She explained. “Oh Madara looked up to her so much. As he got older he and his brothers followed her everywhere.”

“Aw, how cute!” Y/n cooed. “I bet he was a cute little kid.”

“He was just as intense then as he is now. He was so proud to be a big brother when Togakushi came along. It was so cute to see him try to carry his baby brother. A year later Kuro was born, and Madara just loved to take care of them.” Kaori explained. “And Izuna. Oh Madara adored him, they had a special bond. I swear the two were connected at the hip; you never saw one without the other.”

“Aw, that’s so cute.” Y/n said softly, trying to picture the version of young Madara leading little ones with him.

“He’s surprisingly good with babies and toddlers, it’s older people he has issues with.” Kaori teased. “Probably because babies and toddlers don’t expect anything from him.”

“Hm I was sure the stone face would scare them off. Children that is. Seems to have the same reaction from adults.” Ume pointed out smiling. “A big family would be nice, Konoha certainly is not lacking any space.”

“Mother.” She flushed brightly at the idea of it. “What were his parents like? I kind of remember Tajima as being a stern looking man, but I never met his mother.”

“Tajima was just as soft around children as Madara is.” Kaori explained, lifting up Y/n arms to look over the side seams. “He said he didn’t have a favorite but he was especially soft with Madara. Ruby, his mother, was more of the disciplinarian of the two; she was not a kunoichi so she was home with the children. Tajima worked hard both on the battlefield and off caring for his family.”

“I remember he had a scary face.” Y/n began thinking back on the one meeting she had had with Madara and his father. She said it so casually that both women stared at her for a moment. “What? I was only five.”

“Y/n! I cannot believe you said that.” Ume was shocked while Kaori merely laughed.

“He could look scary.” She said, chuckling at Y/n reaction to Tajima as a child.

“But I could see he was trying to be friendly.” Y/n continued, her cheeks now flushed. “Madara seemed to be more of a little adult than a child.”

“It’s possible this was after his sister and mother passed. They passed within a year of each other, it was a difficult time for the family.” Kaori said. “There was little time to be a child at that point. Wars and battlefields were plenty, and unfortunately children at a young age were considered soldiers.”

“That’s awful … it only makes me realize how lucky I was to live further west, where the clan wars didn’t reach.” Y/n said softly looking down at her dress. It was sad to think of, Madara had probably lost his siblings to war.

“No talking about that, this is a happy occasion. Your marriage, are you excited?” Kaori asked.

“I mean-“ Again her cheeks flushed at the thought of Madara.

“Go on, say what you like.” Ume sighed covering her face not knowing what her daughter would say. Probably something she deemed inappropriate.

“Yes, he’s a passionate man.” She said, trying not to giggle. “But I am also looking forward to this festival. The town we lived in was so small compared to Konoha. I can’t begin to imagine what it will be like.”

“Oh that rogue.” Kaori chuckled. “He is a passionate man, but he can be very kind. His actions speak more than his words. Or his face for that matter.” She teased, causing Y/n to laugh and Ume a quiet snort.

“That’s very true … though it’s not as if his attention hasn’t been returned. I certainly want him just as much.” Y/n sighed.

“Y/n I am sitting right here, we are in public.” Ume huffed, getting up and walking away unable to sit there and listen to any more possible inappropriate talk.

“Oh don’t worry dear, it’s natural to desire your husband. Your mother is just more secretive about such things.” Kaori patted Y/n’s hand. “Tell me more.”

“Divine, that man kisses like I’m water and he’s never had a taste before.” She said softly. “And he’s so gentle for how Hm large he is.”

“Ooooh?” Kaori couldn’t help but laugh at what was being insinuated.

“I mean him physically over all, not not that!” Y/n nearly shouted, face red at the very thought of what that was like.

“How was I supposed to know that?” She teased the young woman. “I’m glad to hear that, having seen him grow up, it’s good to see he’s a gentleman to his wife.”

“Soon to be wife.” Y/n corrected. “Gods, I’ll be married in a week. Were you nervous? Before your wedding?” She asked. Her mother never really talked about her own marriage to her father. Plus he had died when she was young, she hardly remembered him anyway.

“Yes, even though my marriage was not arranged I was nervous. It’s a big step in one’s life and a huge commitment to make to someone.” Kaori hummed, taking a seat to look over Y/n. “Plus I’m sure you’re feeling the pressure of an arranged marriage.”

“Not so much anymore, but I’ve definitely felt it … now it’s more of a pressure of hoping my marriage is a good one.” Y/n said wishing to sit down herself but with the amount of pins in her dress it wasn’t possible.

“Madara is a good man, a kind soul at heart. He just doesn’t show it to many people.” Kaori said smiling. “As long as you’re true and honest with each other I have no doubts things will work out just right.” She added. Sighing, she slowly stood. “Alright let’s get you out of that dress and then I can start alterations.” Kaori approached, carefully helping Y/n out of the dress. Mindful of the pins in it. “I think I have everything I will need for both dresses.”

“Perfect timing.” Ume had returned from wandering the store. “We’ll have to come back, other than just to pick up the dresses. You have such lovely fabrics.”

“I’m glad you found something you like.” Kaori said, as she placed the dress back on the manikin. “I’ll have both dresses ready and sent to the compound, you needn’t worry about coming to pick them up. You’re going to look every bit a beautiful bride.”

“Thank you Kaori, I’m sure we’ll be back if mother’s found fabrics she likes.” Y/n said, turning back to her mother. “It’s getting close to lunch time, shall we head to the Hokage Tower?” She asked as she dressed once again.

“Sounds good.” Ume stood at the dressing room door. “You’re happy with this arrangement? Your marriage with Madara-sama?” She asked, something off in her voice.

“Yes.” It didn’t take long to reply. And Y/n found that it was true. Sure in the past, when the sting of having to break up with Itsuki was strong the answer would have been no. But now, after moving on from Itsuki and getting to know Madara - at least as much as one could, she found it was true. She, truly, was okay with the arrangement. “I’m happy with this.”

“As long as you’re happy.” Ume said, again her voice seemed off. Almost far off, like she was thinking of something else. Y/n paid no mind to it.

They bid Kaori a good day and goodbye before they left the shop. Now closer to noon Konoha was at one of its busiest moments. They remained close as they made their way through the crowd, keeping an eye on the Hokage Tower as it loomed above other buildings.

Having dropped off lunch a few times and been in Madara’s office before Y/n lead her mother through the tower. She knocked at the door waiting for Madara’s okay before entering. Hashirama stood at Madara’s desk smiling as they entered.

“Sorry, Hashirama but I’m here to steal Madara away for lunch.” Y/n said smiling.

“Lunch already?” Madara looked up at the clock and nodded. “We’ll go over this when I’m back.” He said already starting to put things away.

“How has your ladies' morning been?” Hashirama asked standing away from the desk as Madara packed his things back up.

“It was well, we did my dress fitting and heard stories about Madara being a little terror.” Y/n said chuckling.

“Kaori telling you stories?” Madara chuckled as he stood from his desk. “No surprise there, she did like to embarrass me whenever she got the chance.”

“Aw I want to hear stories about Madara when he was little.” Hashirama pouted.

“No, you need to stay and work through that mountain of paperwork. I already asked your assistant to bring you lunch.” Madara said, narrowing his eyes at Hashirama.

“Urg fine!” Hashirama whined throwing his hands up in defeat. “I’ll work away while you have fun with your fiancé and mother in law.” He pouted.

“Good.” Madara said shaking his head as he offered Y/n his arm. “Anywhere you ladies would like to go to?” He asked, ignoring Hashirama’s pouting as they stepped out of the office leaving Hashirama behind.

Ume raised her brow at Hashirama’s attitude but followed along beside. “Wherever you’d like to go, neither of us are that picky.” She pointed out.

“There’s a new ramen place, I hear it’s pretty good and it’s not too far away.” Madara pointed out looking down at Y/n.

“That sounds wonderful.” Y/n said leaning into Madara. “What were you and Hashirama working on?”

“Boarders, mostly and patrols.” Madara with a shrug. “The village is still growing, if Tobirama’s calculations are correct we’ll out grow our current parameters within the next ten years.” He pointed out.

“Ten years isn’t terrible, we still have time to expand the village's boundaries. Plus we have most of Fire’s clans within the village so it’s not like we have to fight a clan for more land. Just deal with the Daimyo.” Y/n pointed out. Madara hummed and nodded along with her words.

Madara followed behind Y/n and her mother as they entered the restaurant. Madara took a seat beside Y/n while her mother sat across from them.

It was less tense than their breakfast, Ume didn’t contribute much to the conversation. Y/n focused her attention on Madara as they spoke through lunch. She hoped her mother could see she was happy with the arrangement. Could see that she enjoyed Madara’s company.

After lunch Y/n and Ume walked back to the Hokage tower with Madara. Y/n linked her arm with Madara’s as they walked.

“I’ll see you at home tonight.” Madara said, kissing her gently. “I wish you both a good rest of your day.” He nodded Ume before heading back into the tower.

Y/n was surprised Madara kissed her so easily in front of her mother. “Okay, have a good day.” She replied back as he left them.

Ume watched her daughter and Madara interact together. They certainly seemed to enjoy each other’s company. It would bode well for the future that they did. She held her tongue about the kiss, it was rather forward of Madara to kiss her like that. On the cheek or the top of the head was one thing. But she let it go.

“Let’s head back home.” Y/n said, turning away from Madara’s retreating form. It was so strange to think of the Uchiha compound as her home. But it certainly was.

#madara #Madara x reader #map to hope #chapter 9

10 notes · View notes

hollyethecurious · 8 months

Text

WIP Word Search Tag Game

tagged by: @exhaustedpirate (Thank you, darling!)

rules: find your given words in your WIPs and post a snippet containing the words, then tag others with their own sets of words :)

my words: touch, heart, and hot

Thank you for tagging me! I only have three WIPs I am currently working on, so I'll look for each word in each of them.

Touch

Pans Says... Part Seven - Um... nope. Not yet, anyway.

A Necessary Evil -

Emma worked her hand past the laces of his pants, which he had loosened before bedding down, attempting to make the leather trousers more comfortable. Palming the flesh of his hardening cock, she wrapped her fingers around his girth and began stroking him into a full erection. “Fuck,” Killian groaned, his hips bucking into her ministrations. “It’s been an age since I felt the touch of a woman.”

Land Run AU -

“Swan?” Killian placed his hand at the small of her back, noticing how she had begun to sway. She jerked away from his touch, her chin definitely lifted as she slurred, “I have no need of your assis- assistance.” Whipping around towards the boarding house, she took off-kilter, booze induced, stumbling steps, bypassing a pungent pile of horse dung. Now downwind, her steps faltered and Killian could see the wretch making its way up her throat. Lunging towards the side of the building, the contents of her stomach mutinied, spilling upon the dirt of the back alley. Thankfully, she did not flinch away from his touch this time as he applied soothing circles to her back. When the sickness passed, he offered her his handkerchief, then busied himself with kicking dirt over the evidence of her drunkenness as she wiped her mouth clean.

Heart

Pan Says... Part Seven -

“What did you…” The question fell away as numbness immediately began to overtake her. Within seconds, Emma could not move her arms or legs and she slumped over into the doctor’s arms, unable to keep herself upright. “It’s okay,” the man soothed, laying her back down on the cot. “The effects are temporary. You’ll remain conscious, but you’ll be unable to move or speak until it wears off.” More and more of her succumbed to the paralysis, her entire body becoming heavy and unresponsive. When her eyes would not open again after a blink, Emma panicked. Her heart raced at the sound of bootfalls entering the room and a silent scream echoed through her mind when she was hoisted off the bed and over a man’s shoulder.

A Necessary Evil -

Emma smiled, imagining a bony little boy with dark hair, desperate to be included in men’s work but still content to spend his days at his mother’s side, receiving her praises and promises that he’ll grow up big and strong like his father and brother some day. Her heart lurched, a constricting vice gripping it tightly when she remembered the stories couldn’t actually be true. He told them with such conviction, such certainty, without a hint of fabrication in his eyes or voice that she’d forgotten how delusional he was.

Land Run AU -

“How long have you been in America?” His shoulders relaxed, as did his features. “We arrived in New York a little more than a month ago,” he informed her. “Mama and Papa used to live in New York,” Henry blurted out, drawing both Emma’s and Mr. Jones’ eyes down to where her son was toddling along between them. His sweet brown eyes turned up, seeking assurance from his mother as he asked, “Isn’t that so, Mama?” “It is so, Henry,” she reassured him before focusing her attention back to Mr. Jones. The man’s endearing smile, aimed at her son, made her heart skip a beat which, in turn, made her lose her step.

Hot

Pan Says... Part Seven - nope

A Necessary Evil -

“Don’t get me wrong,” Lily said, stretched out on Emma’s couch without even the decency to remove her shoes. “Jones is hot, and I wouldn’t say no to some charm and manipulation from him so long as he was tied up first.” Emma choked on her wine and sputtered, “Lily!” “What?” Lily replied. “Tell me in all those hours of analyzing his photos and interviews and transcripts you haven’t fantasized about him during deplorable things to you.”

Land Run AU - afraid not

Tagging @donteattheappleshook and @the-darkdragonfly with water, hand(s), and glance

#ask game #wip word search

8 notes · View notes

notsocheezy · 4 months

Text

Brain Curd #72

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. The following is a continuation of yesterday's Brain Curd - read that first!

Postal Fred raised his hand. “Can I go first?”

Cody gave an affirmative hand gesture.

“I’ve been doing good lately, mostly, but I had a setback. You remember that guy who kept putting the wrong amount of postage on everything? A couple days ago, he came in, and I tried to stay calm, but it was too much to take. The label said it was for a three pound box with dimensions of twelve by twelve by twelve, but it was a four-and-a-half pound box with dimensions of twelve by ten by thirteen!”

“What happened?” Cody asked, with all the patience and grace of a kindergarten teacher.

“I did what I believe any self-respecting postal worker would do. I followed protocol and told him this was insufficient postage and that he could either pay for a new label here or go back home and print one with accurate numbers.”

The group snapped in applause.

“That doesn’t sound so bad, Fred.”

“Exactly. That’s when it got bad. He started arguing with me, saying no one was going to notice ‘one pound’ and that the size was ‘close enough’ and that the price difference was ‘nothing’. I told him, hey man, we can’t bend the rules to save you a dollar, we’ll go broke, and he started throwing coins at me, saying, ‘Fine! Fine! Let me buy a stamp to make up the difference! I don’t have time for this, I’m a busy man!’.”

Fred started crying, and put his face in his hands.

“That’s not how it works!”

Roberta put her hand on his back to comfort him. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

He hugged her tightly, burying his face into her abdomen. Government Man thought it looked very uncomfortable, since Roberta had very defined and firm abdominal muscles.

Cody waited a moment to see if Fred had anything more to say. “Thank you for sharing,” he said, before moving on to someone else. Pablo raised his hand and Cody gave him a thumbs-up.

“My bakery has been attacked once again by the Yeastie Boys. They smashed the back window and unlocked the door, then came in and took all my honey and left several gallons of homebrew mead. I think what gets to me the most is all the questions: like, if they didn’t have honey, how did they make the mead? And why do they leave things behind like that? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Richard half-raised his hand. “Was the mead any good?”

“I don’t know, I don’t drink.”

“Do you… do you have any left?”

“The police took it as evidence.”

“Dammit.” Richard crossed his arms. “They’re just gonna drink it themselves.”

Pablo continued. “Last time they left behind the best croissants I have ever tasted. I’d think about hiring these crooks if I knew who they were. I just want them to stop stealing my ingredients! I couldn’t fulfill a large order for cornbread because I had no honey. I’m in danger of bankruptcy.” He sighed. “Anyway, that’s all that’s going on with me.

Cody looked around and set his eyes on the theater usher. “Deborah, do you have anything to share?”

“Not really… Honestly, once I stopped trying to stop Charlie from sneaking into the theater, things went back to normal. I’ve just been living my life again. It’s nice.”

The group snapped in applause. They sure liked doing that.

Cody turned his gaze. “Richard?”

“Nothing new to report this week. The plumbing business has been reasonably stable.”

All eyes were on Government Man, now. He didn’t like it.

“Government Man,” Cody said, “How much can you share about your adversary?”

He swallowed. “My adversary is… classified. But I will tell you this: He is always one step ahead of me. I have never seen him and yet he knows exactly how to manipulate me. He has impersonated my coworker. He has escaped my grasp. He has infiltrated my dreams. I have not slept a full night since our first encounter. All I want is for things to be how they once were. For things to go back to normal. Everything used to be so easy then - go here, go there, shoot that, cuff him, follow that car… I’m trapped now. Trapped in this diabolical plot.”

Government Man leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

Cody put his hands together and leaned forward. He spoke softly. “Things can be okay again. You just have to let him go.”

“I cannot do that. I cannot let him get away.”

“You don’t have to. But you need to stop thinking about him at every moment, or else he wins. Because if you don’t get the rest you need, Government Man, you won’t be able to stop him.”

Government Man’s weary eyes met Cody’s.

“Find any sort of healthy distraction you can. Maybe get a new plant for your garden.”

Government Man took a deep breath and let it out.

#NSC Original #brain curd #brain curds #writing #creative writing #writeblr #flash fiction #author #writer things #writers #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #writerscommunity #women writers #female writers #queer writers #Government Man #Adversaries Anonymous Part Two #Government Man Ep 9

2 notes · View notes

changelingsandothernonsense · 11 months

Text

Wip but it's my Thursday

Tagged by @saltymaplesyrup tagging @mareenavee ( I know you're getting space but I said I was still tagging) @thequeenofthewinter @archangelsunited @snippetsrus @gilgamish @tallmatcha @kookaburra1701 @thana-topsy @orfeolookback @caliblorn Low effort 0 expectation, I know there's a lot of chaos running around but feel free to join in if you like. I have been procrastinating on study because I'm changing my major so I am out of steam on that. So I have um...too many wips in both the art section and the writing section. We have been doing SAD WARS and that means a lot of art and a lot of writing. Like I think I wrote 30K in a month XD ART First I have the Erra render that I've been working on. He's coming along.

Some Josh about to fuck up some Reavers. IDK I kinda just wanted to draw the Dwarven toe prosthesis which will be more visible if I ever line this lol. under the cut for the rest!

Pic of Yani too idk. Okay, Writing!

Going to post 3 snips because I've been jumping around wips. First is a section from Mortal Chill

Corprus? But…how? I stood and moved to try to pull the covers off of him, I don’t know what I was really trying to do here. I could not remove them myself. I- I guess I wanted those bandages removed so that I could see for myself. The tumours, the growths that twisted and deformed the body. The broken bones the-

Maera he was so thin, was it the wasting kind? All I could remember were stories of mad creatures that would come screaming out of the southern ash wastes at night. That they had a madness, that they ate the cursed flesh of their brethren. The Urshilaku would warn us every few years of another outbreak of blight. That it had started breaching the Ghostfence. My tribe did not much care for such things. The lore of our ancestors meant little amongst the Erabenimsun. Our Ashkhans were absolute rulers, our focus war and glory. The news of blight usually fell on deaf ears. Our Wise Woman’s warnings would often go unheeded. It was why my father had made that attempt on old Ulath-Pal’s life after all. Some sort of pact between my kin, the Ensirhaddon who bore most of the tribe’s farseers and mages and the Urshilaku and the Ilaba'andul-Sul family, who were the ruling clan of the northern wastes. It failed, and my kin were systematically executed one by one. I had fled the night my twin sister had her throat cut in her sleep. I was fifteen and utterly alone.

I had run into someone afflicted with blight somewhere around Piran. The wasting the growths. She was practically mad as she lashed out at me. I still have no idea how I had gotten away in the end. Maybe it is because I am forgetting so many things but I know that creature haunts me, Kiang.

Is this really to be my son’s fate?

You shuddered, turning to stroke our son’s cheek. Forty-six years since he was twelve. I guess I was trying to do the sum in my head, had never been good at that, resorting to counting the individual sections of my fingers instead. Three, six, twelve-

“Fifty-eight, Yani. He turned fifty-eight yesterday-I,” you let out a breath, shuddering once again, “I tried to summon you yesterday but- I don’t know why it didn’t work or-“

I couldn’t believe it, the last time I had heard your call and walked through the flames he was still a child, barely twenty-two! You reached for me, your hands on either side of my ruined face. Torn and beaten from the rubble that had entombed me. My ear missing, torn at some point. My face ripped from the razor edge of debris that I had not seen. My throat slashed to such a point that the grizzled meat was visible. It is why I cannot speak.

I was only thirty-one when I had died, barely grown myself. Maera I’ve missed so much.

The second is from Ahzidal's Descent

“Greave,” she held out her hand again, “Teldryn I need it to keep the splint in place.”

He grumbled a little as he reached out behind him, handing her the light, chitinous plate. The surface was a marbled green and beige that dully reflected the sunlight. It had something carved into its underside. Something in what looked like Dunmeris but she honestly couldn’t tell. Sydari untangled the netch leather straps and placed the chitin on top of his shin.

“Tel, I’m going to have to lift this again,” she said as she lightly prodded his shin.

“Do I have to wear it?” He groaned, scratching the back of his head, “I’m pretty sure that’s what irritated it in the first place. Thing was fine this morning.” He shrugged.

Sydari exhaled slowly. Of course, he’d blame the only thing that was supporting his leg! It couldn’t possibly be the fact that he chose to scale this dune! She lifted his leg and started securing the chitin greave to his shin, maybe a little too roughly.

“N'chow! Now I know you did that on purpose!” Teldryn protested, he began to fiddle with the leather strap of his goggles.

“You don’t think that maybe you aggravated your leg by climbing up a cliff?” Sydari pinched the bridge of her nose, “You didn’t even bother to properly brace it!”

“It was fine this morning when I took it off,” Teldryn hunched over his left knee and exhaled sharply, “Thing interferes with my prosthesis, I told you. Plus, I really felt fine this morning, Sydari.”

“You’re not supposed to be taking it off yet Teldryn,” Sydari began to search her pack again, pulling out another small vial, this one filled with a red viscous liquid that leaned violet in the sunlight. Tinged by the minuscule edition of Sleeping Tree Sap. It would dull the pain but make his comedown from the stamina tonic a lot harsher.

“What’s that?” Teldryn asked.

Sydari shook the bottle a little, “It dulls pain.”

Teldryn tilted his head, “Didn’t I just take one of those?”

Sydari shook her head, “No, this one is a bit different, stronger,” she handed him the glass vial, “Just don’t drink all of it, it contains a sedative.”

Teldryn raised an eyebrow, “What kind of sedative?”

Sydari sighed, “It’s a type of sap from this tree in Whiterun Hold, it’s um…”

Teldryn chortled, “Say no more hla’Miluth, say no more,” he raised the small bottle to his lips and took a small sip, “tastes like shit though,” he smiled and handed the mostly full vial back to her.

“You think everything does,” Sydari replied as she replaced the stopped and returned the vial to her pack.

She stood up and offered Teldryn her hand, “Come on, let's get you back to the Netch.”

“Aww come on Miluth!” Teldryn frowned, “It’s just over this ridge, we’re so close. Why go back now?”

Sydari pulled her pack over her shoulder and offered him her hand again, “Because you’re not making it up that hill, not in your wildest dreams.”

And finally a bit from Kagrumez Gauntlet

I took a few steps back, dagger still readied…just in case. The specter reached out.

“It is okay, Dumu, I mean you no harm,” there was an echo to his voice as well, as if he was both far away and far too close. I wonder if that is why he never spoke last time.

“Wha-“I stammered, I had no idea what any of this was.

He held up a hand and shook his head, “Does your Ata know you have that?”

I slowly lowered your dagger, putting it away. I shook my head at the ghost.

He sighed, “Nervyna, these places are death traps for the best of us. You cannot be messing around in here.”

I pouted, “Ata said he’d take me down here to help with his research. We were supposed to be here together but he ditched me with my cousins and came here himself,” I folded my arms, “It’s not fair!”

The ghost shook his head, his hair almost floating around him, “Oh Dumu, I am sure he had good reason. It is a new place, yes?”

I nodded, “That’s why we were going to come down here together,” I told the ghost, “then all of a sudden he decides ‘No! It’s time to go visit your cousins!’” I mimicked your gruff tone as best as I could. It made the ghost laugh.

“Ah, I think I know what is wrong, Nervyna,” the ghost smiled, “Your Ata found that down here, I do not think he wants one of these ambushing the two of you.”

I looked back at the metal mer that lay battered and broken, melted to the floor. Did he see this thing and run? I sighed, “So he saw this thing and ran away? It’s dead. Creepy but it’s dead.”

The ghost approached the broken hunk of metal and knelt over it, “Nervyna, your Ata does not run from these things. This is his doing.”

I walked over to where the ghost was kneeling, standing on the opposite side of the twisted metal mer, “how would you know that? I don’t even know who you are?”

The ghost furrowed his brow or tried to, the long scar that cut across his face seemed to make it hard, even in this form, “Nervyna, I have known your Ata for a very long time. More than he would probably care to admit. I know how he attacks these things. I have seen him do it many times. Dumu I know your Ata took down this metal mer because I do not know anyone else who can melt this kind of metal.”

I stared at the thing’s melted surface. It reminded me a little too much of how an ice mer melts during the early spring thaw. Like the ones that you would build with me whenever snow fell on the mountains to the north of the island. You hated the cold but you would take me up there every year so that we could make one. This wasn’t making any sense.

“I haven't seen Ata so much as take down a slaughterfish let alone whatever this thing is,” I stood and stomped back towards the stairs that lead further into the ruin.

“Nervyna! Wait!” the ghost called back as I descended the stairs. I replenished the light I had summoned with some of my magicka, just like you showed me. ‘Imagine you can make the light stronger with just one touch,’ I had finally started getting the hang of doing that.

The ghost reformed in front of me as I entered a colossal chamber. The whole place buzzing and whirring with that magical steam you always talked about. He frowned at me, bow gripped tightly in his ethereal fist.

“Please do not run off like that. I can not protect you if you move too far away from me,” he cautioned, though his tone was even and calm, I could tell there was a slight hint of annoyance there.

“I never asked for your protection, ghost. I don’t even know who you are,” I grit my teeth, I never summoned any ancestor ghost. I don’t even know that spell yet!

The ghost blinked at me before sighing, “That is my fault, I forget that you do know what I look like. I am Erra, I was-“

“You’re Aya’s uncle!” I interrupted, I had heard of him before. I had heard of him a lot, in fact. You had called him by the same words that you used for Alma.

For a brief moment, I thought I saw the ghost frown. He smiled again and nodded, “Yes, that is it.”

#my art #my writing #my wips #teldryn sero #danger!josh #Erra Ilaba'andul #Nervyna Sero #sydari aralen #dunmer #skyrim #morrowind #the elder scrolls #tesblr #nerevarine #last dragonborn #tes #tes fanart #tes fic

2 notes · View notes

straycatboogie · 1 year

Text

2023/07/17 English

BGM: New Order - Fine Time

Today I worked late. This morning I went to the food court at AEON, where I wrote today's poem with the music by Cluster and Eno. After that, I read Shuntaro Tanikawa's poems. I am so maniac that recently I read poems only like this day by day. Yesterday, I was said by the staff from "Hon no Kura" that "How about making YOUR collection of poetry by yourself?". I said at that time "Thank you, but I have just written a few poems only". So I think about that idea. If I can enrich my collection/archive more, then I will make my book of poetry. I also think about the collaboration with a friend of mine who is a YouTuber. Poetry reading, or affording my poetry to the melody he makes... I also think about giving my poems to another friend's painting (but I need her permission). My dream is increasing. I am so simple person that thinking creation like this will make me happy certainly. I remember Kiyoshi Miki, a Japanese philosopher. The ideas which are coming from my mind flood to the world, and they will make others happy (I believe so). That's happiness... I am glad to make my poetry today again.

I started today's work, and suddenly thought of the idea "Someday I'll die". Indeed, it's not today. But I had kept on drinking so heavily with having the idea that "I can die anytime" and "I wanna die soon", so I can feel that my body becomes wrong partially. Now I think that "I wanna live more". Living more, and writing what I have experienced. I want to live as long as possible, and more and more. I want to make my book of poetry collection, and also try to read my ones actually by myself. How about opening my voice on any podcast? If I got time, I would do what I could do. But then, I need to say to myself as "Live more" and "Stay firm". Indeed, once I had lived really lazily with the emotion of "I wanna die" and "That's over". But that day, that moment... since the time I was said that "Your English is really clear" and "Very cool", I walked a long way until here. At last, I started making my own poetry in English. Luck always rules us, but I want to sing my songs as loud as possible until this life's end, with burning my fire fully.

But... I am basically lucky because I could have lived until now. I have lived a really troublesome, chaotic life. From my childhood I have had to face the difficulty to live. I even had to be bullied. After that, I joined a university but I couldn't make any friend... and I also had to struggle with my work. Because since I had found that I am autistic, my bosses couldn't understand what the autism was (but I don't want to blame them because the concept of autism was unknown yet). I had to live those hurtful days. Everyday I drank a lot of alcohol, and thought that I would die at my 40 (like Franz Kafka). After that, I met my friends finally. That brought me the support of job coaches and also the meeting about autism. My life changed actually. I had lost my whole hope in future within the first 40 years of my life... but now I can live a happy life. That makes my life "even". I want to write these things into my poems. I once had been soaked into my wishes/daydreaming, and thought "But I can't do so" and "I have no skill of realizing that". If I were in my 20s and 30s, I would live without making any poems like now. I would live not to be hurt, just running away from actual troubles.

Then, I think that now I am really "brave" and "courageous". The reason why I started writing my poetry was just the emotion had moved me as "I wanna write MINE". In other words, anyone never asked me to do so. Now I am showing my crap to the world... Today I worked 8 hours so got exhausted. After my work, I posted the rewrote version of today's poem in my blog, and slept a lot (my vitality got empty). Life seems long so I don't want to be hurry. I want to read global poetry, and also learn from great hip hop. How about writing free verse and proses besides sonnets? My dream/ambition seems unlimited. I must be a dreamer. But I can't have make them realized by any actual solution. When I had made our little magazine, we couldn't keep a good relationship so broke up. I threw the writing of mine at that period away (I couldn't love my writings, and myself either). Now I have many friends. If I get time, I read my poetry again, and also try to record them. That might be the beginning.

Morning Reading

I always enjoy reading books with good music's flavor For me, reading is a kind of creation. It's not a labor If I didn't read at all, my engine would lose its vapor As getting older, I started enjoying great books' fine savor

A sunny morning, the mood is very, very awesome What music I play? I try to Brian Eno's songs to welcome I won't say pop tunes are just crap. I also like the WHAM! And during that reading time my mouth moves. I do hum

A happy cozy time, but the place gets crowded The day is just starting, I remember what Rilke said He enjoyed real street sound, instead of staying in the bed

Yes, Once I hated people. I thought their coming was an arart But my life is clearly changing. Like trendy songs in the hit chart Then my change like this could become a part of my art?

#diary #journal

0 notes

grabyourluck-blog · 2 years

Text

Life is Short... Seize the Day!

New Post has been published on https://www.referral-master.com/life-is-short-seize-the-day/

Life is Short... Seize the Day!

Don’t be alarmed, but right now I want to shake you by the shoulders and slap you silly… Because I suspect you’re fast asleep at the wheel of life.

Well I have news for you, and I’m sure you’ve heard it before but maybe, just maybe this is the time when you finally sit up and take notice and start making some real changes in your life, because…

Life Is Too @#$Z&% Short!

Remember when you were a child and you believed life just goes on and on and on?

And now here it is, barely a few minutes later (or so it seems) and you discover that a major chunk of your life is now forever gone.

What the heck happened to it??? Did you blow it like someone blowing money on the horses? Or did you make the most of every moment?

There are millions of people who struggle just to make it through the day. They’re in jobs they hate, lives they don’t like doing things that hold no interest for them. And yet the clock ticks for them as it does for the rare person who is completely happy and content doing what they love to do.

Doberman Dan wrote something that fascinated me. I don’t know where he got these numbers, but they’re enough to shake awake anyone slumbering through life:

You’ve got 78 years on this earth, statistically speaking.

You spend 1/3 of that time sleeping so that leaves you with 49 and 11 months of “awake” years.

Subtract hours in school and that leaves you with 46 years and 4 months of your life remaining.

Subtract 91,000 hours on a job and you’ve got 35 years and 11 months remaining.

Subtract time driving, running errands, brushing your teeth, etc., and you’re now down to 32 years and two months.

Subtract eating, drinking, shopping, etc., and you’ve got 25 years and 10 months left.

Subtract chores and you’re down to 20 years and 1 month.

Subtract taking care of children and family, along with watching TV, playing video games and wasting time on the Internet and you’re now down to 9 years and 6 months of your life remaining.

78 years on this planet (if you’re lucky) and only 9 of them are yours.

See what I mean? Life is too @#$Z&% short.

Life is too short to let fear rule. Open your mind, arms and heart to new things and people. Take a chance, push through fear, let go of guilt, break down your goals to achievable steps and get moving TODAY.

Life is too short to be unhealthy. Get moving and get active and stop eating crap food, especially if you want to make it to 78+ and enjoy the journey.

Life is too short to be full of regrets, just as it’s too short to dream about your ‘glory days.’ You can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the last one.

Life is too short to be a slob. If you’re disorganized then you’re wasting time looking for things and wasting more time not doing the things you want to be doing.

Life is too short to be negative. Yes, occasionally negativity seeps in. But when negativity rears its ugly head you’ve got to beat it back with everything you’ve got, and never under any circumstance do you invite it in or ask it to make itself at home.

Life is too short to deal with or even think about rotten people. Are you worried about what that nasty person said about you? Why????? Life is too short to stress yourself with people who don’t even deserve to be an issue in your life.

Life is too short to keep up with the neighbors. Do you care how many new cars or televisions they have? I can’t think of anything more irrelevant than what the neighbor blew money on today.

Life is too short to be in a job you hate. If you’ve never had a job you hated, all the words in the world couldn’t explain this to you. But for the other 95% of people who know what I’m talking about, no explanation is necessary.

Life is too short to be poor. Yes, you might start out poor and that certainly isn’t your fault. But there comes a time when your finances are exactly what you make of them. There is nothing noble about being poor – it’s like having a ball and chain around your throat that stops you from living the life you want and instead wraps you in layers of stress and anxiety. If you don’t have the money you want, then get busy and make it. And yes, I do believe Internet Marketing is still hands down and bar none the best way a person can go from poverty to wealth in a relatively short amount of time (2 to 10 years.)

You and I and every single person we love is terminal – it’s just a matter of time. And every day we have a little bit less of that.

I’ll let the quote master Mark Twain have the last words…

“Life is short, Break the rules. Forgive quickly, Kiss SLOWLY. Love truly. Laugh uncontrollably. And never regret ANYTHING That makes you smile.” – Mark Twain

0 notes

icinch · 2 years

Text

Life is Short... Seize the Day!

New Post has been published on https://www.cinchhomebiz.com/life-is-short-seize-the-day/

Life is Short... Seize the Day!

Don’t be alarmed, but right now I want to shake you by the shoulders and slap you silly… Because I suspect you’re fast asleep at the wheel of life.

Life Is Too @#$Z&% Short!

Remember when you were a child and you believed life just goes on and on and on?

And now here it is, barely a few minutes later (or so it seems) and you discover that a major chunk of your life is now forever gone.

What the heck happened to it??? Did you blow it like someone blowing money on the horses? Or did you make the most of every moment?

Doberman Dan wrote something that fascinated me. I don’t know where he got these numbers, but they’re enough to shake awake anyone slumbering through life:

You’ve got 78 years on this earth, statistically speaking.

You spend 1/3 of that time sleeping so that leaves you with 49 and 11 months of “awake” years.

Subtract hours in school and that leaves you with 46 years and 4 months of your life remaining.

Subtract 91,000 hours on a job and you’ve got 35 years and 11 months remaining.

Subtract time driving, running errands, brushing your teeth, etc., and you’re now down to 32 years and two months.

Subtract eating, drinking, shopping, etc., and you’ve got 25 years and 10 months left.

Subtract chores and you’re down to 20 years and 1 month.

Subtract taking care of children and family, along with watching TV, playing video games and wasting time on the Internet and you’re now down to 9 years and 6 months of your life remaining.

78 years on this planet (if you’re lucky) and only 9 of them are yours.

See what I mean? Life is too @#$Z&% short.

Life is too short to be unhealthy. Get moving and get active and stop eating crap food, especially if you want to make it to 78+ and enjoy the journey.

Life is too short to be full of regrets, just as it’s too short to dream about your ‘glory days.’ You can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the last one.

Life is too short to be a slob. If you’re disorganized then you’re wasting time looking for things and wasting more time not doing the things you want to be doing.

Life is too short to keep up with the neighbors. Do you care how many new cars or televisions they have? I can’t think of anything more irrelevant than what the neighbor blew money on today.

You and I and every single person we love is terminal – it’s just a matter of time. And every day we have a little bit less of that.

I’ll let the quote master Mark Twain have the last words…

“Life is short, Break the rules. Forgive quickly, Kiss SLOWLY. Love truly. Laugh uncontrollably. And never regret ANYTHING That makes you smile.” – Mark Twain

0 notes

popopretty · 3 years

Text

BEAST Movie Spoilers

So I did watch the early show on Dec 20, but I wanted to wait till the official release date to post this. Please make sure to read the followings before moving forward.

· This post contains spoilers, a lot of spoilers, and might be pretty detailed. Please don’t read it if you plan to watch the movie later and think that it will ruin your experience.

· There might be a few parts that I missed or didn’t remember clearly. I try to keep it as accurate as possible but I may come back after watching the movies more and fix things if necessary.

· The movie just came out today in Japan, so please be extra careful when discussing it on Twitter. Do not take too many screenshots. If you want to share it with someone, you can link them to this post. Don't repost this anywhere else out of Tumblr. I actually don't have any clear rules I just don’t want to be noticed because a lot of Japanese fans also use Twitter so please understand :(

· DON’T GO TO THE AUTHORS’ OR OFFICIAL TWITTERS TO COMMENT ABOUT THE CONTENTS OF THE MOVIE, WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT. HAVE SOME RESPECTS.

If you are okay with all the above, feel free to move on to the spoilers. I just wrote down whatever I remember, mainly the parts where the movie is different from the novel.

HEAVY SPOILERS AHEAD

· The movie didn’t show much of Akutagawa background as a kid. It started with his friends being killed and Akutagawa running off to avenge them. In the movie, Gin took a bullet for her brother.

· We didn’t get to see the scene where Oda found Akutagawa at the river bank on screen, but we got a scene of them eating curry together.

· The whole thing about Akutagawa collecting ADA’s approval stamp did not happen in the movie. The movie kept the babysitting scene and it was really sweet. He looked like a big brother to them, carrying them and asking them to help with housework etc.

· The house where the children stay was also attacked and the uncle also got stabbed in the movie. They made it look like what happened in Dark Era, only that this time Aku and Kenji appeared in time to save the kids from the kidnappers. (Honestly my heart skipped a beat here cuz I didn’t know what was going to happen to the kids).

· There was no farming scene with Kenji, but we had a new scene where Aku and Kenji met an old lady on the street, who commented on how thin Aku is then gave him a lot of stuff, telling him to eat up. He was so happy his eyes were shining.

· Kyouka in BEAST still loves crepes but no dates for her and Atsushi here ☹

· Oda is still friends with Ango. Ango works for the government and is Oda’s informant. He was the one who gave Oda information about the “man in black” that Aku was looking for. In the novel, it is said that Oda spent 3 days to look for a video of a secret meeting between Dazai and the government, so that Aku can confirm his face. In the movie, Oda also did that, but we got to see him actually breaking into the place and fighting the guards etc. That was when he met Fyodor, who gave him the data, but also slightly poisoned him (almost by the same method Ango did in Dark Era) as a warning.

· The video Oda got was not of a secret meeting as in the novel, but a video of Dazai and Chuuya 6 years ago (?) when they were fighting Shibusawa. In order to stop Shibusawa, Dazai told Chuuya to use Arahabaki but Chuuya didn’t want to because he couldn’t trust Dazai. Dazai then stabbed himself in the leg (not sure why he did that? Maybe to prove he won’t run away? I will have to watch the movie again and come back later). He asked Chuuya to believe him and said something along the line of “To protect this world, I cannot lose either Chuuya or Port Mafia.”

· There were quite of a few of flashbacks from Dark Era in Dazai’s mind. And those flashbacks always ended with him waking up in his office in BEAST.

· Dazai in the movie couldn’t keep his cool in the bar scene, as he did in the novel. He was already so emotional the moment he saw Oda. Oda was really indifferent to him in this scene. He pointed the gun at Dazai upon finding out that he was the Mafia boss, and later even put the gun on Dazai’s forehead when saying “Don’t call me Odasaku.” Dazai was on the verge of tear the whole time he delivered his last goodbye.

· Gin was really going to be executed in the movie, but the ADA came to rescue her and Aku. She also tried to kill herself with a gun (probably because she hast lost all hopes) but was stopped by Yosano. Ranpo appeared for the first time in this scene.

· In the scene where Dazai jumped, Oda was seen in the bar holding the lighter and looking up as if he could sense something.

· Atsu left PM with Kyouka as per Dazai’s order but he didn’t meet with Mori in the movie. Sometime later, he was called to a government prison (?) by Chuuya. Apparently after Dazai’s death, Chuuya became the boss. He went on a rampage (which Atsu wondered happened because of Dazai’s death) so he was captured and chained up by the government. Chuuya talked about how much of a trash Dazai was, how he looked down on people with his multiple personalities and how it was the worst of the worst to be teamed up with him etc. He waited 7 years to kill Dazai but Dazai went and died without a reason. Chuuya then told Atsushi to start a battle of revenge against the ADA, to erase ADA’s name from the phonebook and the map. Because the Mafia will have no face if they let the organization that caused the death of its previous boss to keep operating like nothing happened. Atsushi refused but Chuuya said Kyouka has accepted the offer. Atsushi then said maybe it is also Dazai’s plan for Chuuya to fight the ADA. Chuuya laughed and said something along the line of “So that mean if we keep fighting the ADA, it’s like Dazai is alive? (I’m really not sure what he means in this part. Maybe I misheard something so I will confirm later when I rewatch the movie). Or you don’t want to take revenge for Dazai?”. And Atsushi’s eyes looked fired up when he heard that. We didn’t get to know what happened after that.

· In the last scene, Fyodor was watching a footage of Dazai jumping off the building. It seems like he also knows the truth now. He told his subordinate that the next targets will be Atsushi and Akutagawa because having so many people know the truth will make the world unstable. He said he is okay with being the only one who knows the truth. And in the last scene of the movie, Fyodor said that what happens next will be the battle to save the world and told the viewers to look forward to it.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd spoilers #spoilers #beast movie #beast movie spoilers

860 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Looking for a Place to Happen

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore

💀💀💀

The sleepy town of Birch was awake.

In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.

It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.

As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.

The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful.

You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.

You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much.

You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.

You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.

You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.

You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps.

You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.

You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.

💀

You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.

“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.

“For what?” you scoffed.

“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.

You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.

“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”

“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”

She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.

“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.

“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”

“Language,” she huffed.

“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”

“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.

“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”

“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”

“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok.

“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.

“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”

“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”

“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”

“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”

“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”

She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.

“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”

“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”

“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”

“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”

“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”

💀

Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.

When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.

You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.

As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce.

“More basil,” she snipped.

“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”

“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”

“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.

“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”

“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”

“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”

You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.

You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.

You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.

You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.

“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.

You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.

“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.

The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way.

You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.

“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.

“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.

“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”

“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.

“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”

As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.

“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.

“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.

“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.

“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.

“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”

“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.

“Am I bothering you?” he asked.

You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.

“Sorta,” you answered.

“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”

You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.

You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.

“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”

“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”

“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”

“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.

“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.

“Well?”

“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.

“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.

You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.

2K notes · View notes

twistedmusings · 3 years

Text

A/N: Planning to post some finished requests tonight thankfully but I wanted to share something super self indulgent with you guys since I just recently got an Alexa! I'm still kind of in a funk (since classes are STILL not over with) so thank you everyone for your kind words in my inbox q wq For now I only have Riddle and Leona...but if everyone likes it I'll make an effort to finish! I kinda am working on Azul's as we speak >:3 Warnings: Boys missing you terribly, Riddle justifying the breaking of rules and Leona realizing that he is talking to an inanimate object.

The Ramshackle Prefect leaves to go to RSA for a month, following a lead that could get them back home. And while the dorm leaders do miss them terribly, it seems one of them is hiding something.

. .

“AZUL-SHI DO SOMETHING.”

The Octavinelle dorm leader barely listened to his friend's request as he also crowded over Idia’s phone, the other five dorm leaders looking down at the screen as a pair of familiar eyes stared back at them.

“Where is Idia? Can you please hand me back to him?”

Riddle blinked at the sprite on the screen before looking back at Idia with a frown.

“Explain yourself, Shroud.”

Idia whimpered as he hung his head low in shame.

“[Y/N]-san...I mean...the Prefect left to go to RSA for a whole month, right? Crowley said it was to help them find a way back home but apparently there was some trouble there too and...and he brought them to fix it...”

Malleus’s neutral expression changes into something a bit sadder while Kalim lets out what everybody was thinking.

“To take them away so suddenly...I didn’t even get a chance to give them a goodbye party!”

“They’re only away for a month, Kalim.” Vil’s eyes stay on Idia’s phone screen.

“But I’m sure a party would have let them know how much I would miss them!”

Riddle clears his throat, “That still doesn’t explain anything about what I am seeing. Why in the world do you have something that looks like...that looks so much like them on your phone!”

Idia was sure this was hell. Of all the people to catch him using his phone during a dorm leader meeting, why did it have to be Riddle? What was he even supposed to answer to that question! That he missed talking to [Y/N]-san about the new animes that were releasing this week that he had purposefully made an AI from data Ortho had collected on them and their mannerisms?

He would rather die!

“I--I was testing a new AI! Just...for schedules and stuff like that! And I didn’t have anything else to base it on so I just took [Y/N]-san’s information and made a prototype! It’s not just going to go out to the public like that! They can customize it however they like--!”

Azul hums as he taps the screen, the sprite giggling as he touches their cheek before looking up at all of them expectantly.

“...A prototype, huh.” he smiles and leans back while taking his phone out, “Everybody stop crowding around him, we might as well be breaking his arm slowly at this point.”

The rest of the dorm leader's move back with only some protest, Idia’s eyes shining as he looks up at his other friend.

“Azul-shi…”

The dorm leader of Octavinelle grins, “If it’s a prototype then that means it needs users, correct? More people to test it out?”

“Eh?”

Azul puts his phone in front of Idia and smiles at him like he was just about to close a rather important business transaction.

“Well then I want the prototype as well. Download it to my phone, will you?”

“Eh?!”

Idia presses his phone to his chest as if Azul was about to take it, looking around nervously as the other dorm leaders take their phones out and set it in front of him.

“If it’s an application for scheduling then I could use it to keep Heartslabyul’s matters in check. I’ll take one too.”

“Ruggie is gonna be busy during exams...this thing better work as an alarm.”

“Surely this would help me keep track of my schedule for both the Monstro Lounge and school. I’ll take one with a statistics program built in, Idia”

“Oh!! I want mine to be able to sing! And can I also get them in Scarabia’s dorm uniform? I want to see what [Y/N]-san would look like!’

“I’ll take that as well. I also want a photo re-touch feature as well as one hour updates as to what is going on in my Magicam account.”

Each phone was placed in front of him as Idia felt his head start to spin. He just wanted to keep this thing a secret only for himself! He wasn’t even planning to release it, it was all just a lie so they wouldn’t know his greatest shame!

A shadow was casted over him, Idia looking up slowly as Malleus smiled and placed his phone down.

“I am eager to see your finished product, Shroud.”

The tarts in front of him looked absolutely delicious.

Trey had really outdone himself this time. The strawberries were cut into perfectly neat shapes and the glaze over them made them so mouth wateringly shiny that he could practically taste the sweet treat without even having to taste it!

Which only made his want of one grow even more.

“And here comes the next batch.” Trey smiles as he puts down another plate in front of him, Riddle’s eyes now staring at that plate while his vice dorm leader cleans himself up.

“When did you say the Unbirthday party was going to be today?”

“A-At three o’clock sharp.”

Trey nods as he looks at the clock in the kitchen.

“Perfect. I promised to meet Jade to get some herbs he has been growing as well as letting him teach me how to make this one soup they had in the Monstro Lounge about a week ago.”

He grabs his phone and heads out, leaving Riddle with a quick goodbye and a promise that he would make it back as quick as possible.

Leaving him all alone with two plates filled with his favourite treat.

The dorm leader looks around once...then twice...checking if anybody was coming into the kitchen before going back to stare at the plates.

It wasn’t like he was going to grab one

The Unbirthday party today would be using pastries that Trey had made yesterday. It was the third of the month so the rules required a completely different pastry. The strawberry tarts were most likely for tomorrow.

So Riddle could wait. He was the Heartslabyul dorm leader after all so not only could he wait but he was required to wait! As the dorm leader he was to set an example and he couldn’t let himself be seduced so easily by just two plates of such yummy looking tarts--!

He quickly takes his phone out and looks down at the screen, face flushing as he tries to remember how Idia told him to open up the new app.

“[Y/N]-san…?”

A face peeks out from the corner of his phone, smiling as it recognizes his face and steps out while giving him a polite bow.

“Good morning, Riddle-san! What can I help you with?”

He can’t help a small rush of excitement at seeing the Prefect’s face after not seeing them for two weeks. Riddle would make an effort to stop and talk to them whenever they made their way to Heartslabyul that not seeing them for so long had almost thrown him off his schedule.

And...he missed the conversations he had with them.

As the dorm leader and a student in NRC he didn’t necessarily have time to go to any other events or take part in any of the shenanigans others would get up to, not that he necessarily wanted to, but it was entertaining when the Prefect talked about it with him.

It felt like they were letting him into their world.

So maybe this substitute would suffice...it was a scheduling app after all so it wasn’t like he was using it for pleasure only.

“Would you please repeat rule 56 of the Queen’s handbook?”

The AI clears their throat as a book animation appears before them.

“Rule number 56: On the third of April, black tea should be served along with pineapple tarts. Followed by a game of cards in which the loser must pour the Queen tea for the rest of the Unbirthday party.”

Riddle sighs as he looks back at the plate of tarts.

“...I guess I’ll wait until tomorrow…”

“Wait until what?”

He looks down at the AI, the sprite blinking in confusion as it waits for an answer. Idia had mentioned adding a conversational feature…

“There is no rule about what to eat tomorrow so I decided that we would have strawberry tarts.”

“Are those your favourite?”

Riddle nods and steps out of the kitchen, making his way to his room as he stared back at the open door.

“They are. Ever since I was little. I couldn’t have many because of--”

He decides to not go deep into the subject.

“I’m sure Trey’s pineapple tarts will be excellent. I will just have to wait until tomorrow to enjoy the strawberry ones.”

The AI hums before the book animation pops up again, looking down and flipping a couple of pages before speaking up.

“Riddle-san. While it does say that black tea should be served with pineapple tarts...it does state that it should be done for the Unbirthday party and the Unbirthday party only.”

He frowns, “Your point?”

“I am sure no rule would be broken if only the Queen has a tea party before the Unbirthday party. From what I am seeing here--��

They flip a couple more pages.

“There is no rule about a tea party of one enjoying a strawberry tart.”

Riddle blinks before looking down at his phone, the sprite smiling as they shut the small book and lets it disappear with a ‘poof.’

No rule would be broken...if it was only a tea part of one?

He looks down at the AI when he hears them giggle.

“Riddle-san looks really happy.”

A blush covers his face at being called out on how big his smile probably was.

“Did I help in any way?”

The dorm leader takes a deep breath before smiling as he looks down at the phone and presses his fingertip on top of their head, rubbing it back and forth as if they were petting them. Something he knew he could never really do with them in real life lest he was looking to get odd looks.

“More than enough. Would you like to accompany me during this tea party?”

“Yes please!”

Riddle nods before looking around once more and clearing his throat.

“And...would you refer to me as ‘dorm leader’ from now on?”

The sprite nods as they give him a polite bow.

“Yes, dorm leader!”

He would need to send his report of the app as quickly as possible, Idia had really outdone himself this time...maybe he could ask if he could get them dressed up in the Heartslabyul uniform?

Riddle still wished you would hurry back.

“Leona-san! Please wake up!”

The blankets on the bed wriggled a bit as the phone was tousled over from one side of the bed to the other, the sprite inside frowning as they tried again.

“Leona-san! Please wake up! Ruggie-san texted you!”

A hand comes out of the blankets before holding the phone up.

“Read the text out loud then.”

Sighing, the AI pulls the text up and reads out loud.

“Please be awake by the time I get there, Leona. I need to make sure I get your signature on these papers for the dorm budget. If you don’t I’ll hold your lunch captive!”

Leona’s face finally pops up from under the blanket, the man sitting up and running a hand through his hair as he speaks up again.

‘Oi. What time is it?”

“It is 3:14 in the afternoon, Leona-san.”

“And when did Ruggie send the text?”

“At 3:00 o'clock.”

He groans and lays back down, the pillows flying about as he holds the phone to his face and smiling when he sees the sprite looking down at him worriedly.

“You really do look like them…” Leona whispers before tapping the screen so that he is poking the sprite’s cheek, “What is that face for?”

“I’m just worried for you, Leona-san. Too much sleep is a symptom of some sicknesses so--”

“Hah? You think I would get sick so easily?” he yawns and stretches, “I’m different from humans. Beastmen need a lot more sleep than regular humans do so...I’m just doing what my body tells me.”

Green eyes watch a notepad appear before the AI as they write down the information, smiling as they close it up and watch it disappear.

“I’ll keep that information in mind so I can serve Leona-san better. Thank you so much.”

Leona blinks at the words before a lazy smile crosses his face.

“Serve me better, huh? Never thought I would hear you say that.”

Usually the herbivore would be frowning and telling him to get up and actually take charge of his dorm and how he didn’t act like any grown up they knew. The sprite, however, tilts their head in confusion before speaking up once again.

“I am yours, after all.”

“Damn right you are.”

He looked at the phone a bit more, the sprite smiling up at him as he poked their cheek or patted their head. A part of him wondered if you would react like that with him as well. You always seemed so annoyed with his antics yet you never failed to come back to talk to him, telling him how he needs to get his act together if he is ever planning to go back to the Afterglow.

Leona would bet money that if he patted your head out of nowhere you would be highly flustered. Getting praise from him was something that didn’t happen often, after all.

“What day is it?”

“The 12th day of April, Leona-san.”

Another two weeks of you being gone. He frowns and closes his eyes as he thinks about you meeting those other students. RSA was just full of idiots...like his brother--

“Dammit.”

He slams the phone down but blinks when he hears a small yelp, turning the phone back around to find the AI looking rather frazzled with their eyes closed and hair all over the place.

“Shit. Are you....okay?”

Great, he was asking an application if it was okay. He could understand why Idia would hide this, right now he felt like he was crazy.

“Y--Yes! It was just unexpected!”

The sprite fixed itself up quickly and smiled back at Leona.

“Are you okay though, Leona-san?”

The dorm leader chuckled and nodded as they set the phone down gently and laid down next to it. At least that part was very much like you, worrying about others before focusing on yourself.

“You’re not going to complain? I almost just threw you.”

Without missing a beat, the AI stands up and looks at him.

“Leona-san is still working hard despite his body telling him to sleep. My program tells me that it would be a natural emotion to feel frustrated if you are not allowed to do something you want. Normal actions of frustration speak of physical manifestations such as kicking, punching or throwing. I was simply calculating it for it to be the latter and for it to happen towards a pillow. I’ll make sure to fix my calculations next time.”

He shakes his head and sets the phone down gently.

“Weird thing. You shouldn’t forgive someone so easily after they wronged you.”

“But you didn’t wrong me, Leona-san. I didn’t feel any pain. I just want to make sure you are feeling your best! You are my number one priority!”

This machine is going to make him go insane, he knows you would never say that but the fact that Idia had gotten your voice down so well that it was almost as if you had just told him he was your number one---

He was already getting a headache.

“Set an alarm for an hour. Ruggie will take around that long anyway.” Leona lays down and wraps the blankets around him.

“Of course. Alarm set for one hour. Would you like to be woken up with a personalized message?”

Leona hummed before grinning.

“Wake me up by calling me ‘King’.”

The sprite fixes its settings before giving a polite bow.

“Yes, my King. Please enjoy your rest.”

After this he would send his report to Shroud and maybe ask for an outfit upgrade. He only needed to show him some Afterglow clothes and the nerd would probably be able to make the AI wear them, right?

Whatever, the moment you came back Leona would make sure that you gave him some headpats for making him wait so long.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst imagines #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #riddle x reader #leona x reader #twst mc #//yeah this is extremely self indulgent...BUT I HAVE An ALEXA NOW AND I FEEL FANCY

1K notes · View notes

kalims-pessimist-bestie · 2 years

Text

First Kiss with Heartslabyul

If this series gains any sort of attention, I will continue with the other dorms. Gender neutral reader. Not proof-read. Author’s notes at the bottom.

TW: Trey

-Riddle-

You and Riddle had been dating for 3 months. He was very hesitant with any affection, as he did not want to break any rules or gain any attention. That doesn’t mean he couldn’t be romantic sometimes.

That’s why he invited you to a little private tea party. He made it perfect, following all of the Queen of Heart’s rules. However the atmosphere was more romantic as the lights were dimmed and the roses almost seemed like a deeper shade of red. Instead of sitting across from you, he nervously sat next to you.

Somewhere within all of the chatting, your faces had gotten closer and his hand rested on top of yours. His eyes however were less calm, as they showed hesitation. When you were only inches apart, he pulled back.

“I must pardon myself I need to use the restroom!” he announced. He got up to let himself out, but you called back to him.

“Riddle?” and he stopped. He came down closer to your level, and you placed a small peck on his lips. His face went tomato bright and he stood back up straight. “Enjoy your bathroom break.” you said smugly, and you watched him walk to the restroom hurriedly.

-Trey-

You liked to accompany Trey when he was baking. You would never pass up a chance to taste-test your boyfriends sweets. It had been 2 months since you had started dating, and this was by far your favorite activity to do with him.

You were rolling out the crust for a tart that he was going to surprise Riddle with. He was working on the strawberry filling. He had put on some music and you two were dancing and singing along while you worked.

“I’m done with this filling, Y/N. What’s the status on the crust?” He came over and put his arm around your shoulder.

“I need a bit more flour and then it should be ready!” He went to move the flour closer to you at the moment you were reaching for it. Your combined efforts knocked it over and flour spilled onto the counter and the floor around you.

“I don’t remember us being this messy together,” he said while chuckling under his breath. He leaned down and gave you a small kiss on the top of your head. Flustered, you looked up at him. His finger found its place under your chin, doing just enough to close the space between you.

-Cater-

It wasn’t uncommon for your best friend to drag you out to a cafe or restaurant nearby. No matter how much it seems like you only begrudgingly agree, you do actually enjoy this time with him.

“This boardwalk always ends up with the most Magicam-able ice cream cones!” He said as he licked his peanut butter cup ice cream. You looked down at your own, raspberry flavored, and nodded in agreement. You were both enjoying the sunset on the boardwalk.

“I think it’s time for some sunset Magicam shots!” He put his camera on the ground facing the sunset, and he backed up to check his angles. You had gotten used to being in his stories and posts.

“Oh, is this that sunset silhouette style you were talking about earlier?” He had mentioned wanting to try one of those.

“Yeah! I got my camera set to take a few photos.” He put his arm around your waist and pulled you a little closer to him. You both held out your ice creams and did a few different poses. That’s when he turned you towards him.

“Is this just another new pose?” you asked nervously. You two were close, however you had never been this close to him before. You were only inches apart.

“I wonder if it would taste like peanut butter and jelly…” he looked down at your ice creams, then back up to your eyes, stopping only briefly to look at your lips. His hand came up to the back of your head, he gently leaned you both together. It was only a few seconds, but in that moment it lasted an eternity. When you finally pulled apart, his eyes sparkled mischievously at you.

“You know,” you whispered. “It did kinda taste like peanut butter and jelly.” He smiled kissed your forehead quickly before looking back at you.

“And I captured it all for Magicam.”

-Ace-

You usually loved movie night with Ace and Deuce, but not when Ace got to choose the movie. He was quite fond of the horror genre, and you can’t say you were a fan. To make this movie night more interesting, Deuce was sick, so he was only able to watch through video-call.

Tonight’s movie was “Serial Killer Zombies”, apparently a favorite of Ace’s. Your laptop with Deuce on the screen was facing the TV, while you and Ace sat behind it on the couch. Ace insisted the lights were off, and you began to clutch your blanket.

Sometime had passed through the movie and you had absentmindedly began to lean your head on Ace’s shoulder. It felt so natural to you, but he was quite nervous about it. You weren’t aware of his little crush on you, and he was well aware this was his chance to “woo” you. He knew you didn’t like horror movies.

His arm began to drift around your shoulders, and his thumb started to rub a small your arm in small circles. He seemed relaxed to you but his face was bright red. However you were too.

Eventually the movie ended and the both of you were snuggled up closely on the couch. Once the credits started rolling, you both became aware of the close position you were in. With red faces, you looked at each other. The corner of Ace’s mouth turned up into a gentle half smile. He let out a quiet laugh. You couldn’t help but smile back. Shyly, he leaned his head in just a bit, and you did the same. Eventually you two shared a small, gentle kiss. You went back to cuddling quietly before you heard a cough on the laptop.

“Hey, um, so are we done here? I’d like to talk about something happy before I go to sleep.” Deuce asked nervously. The both of you leapt off each other, faces red, and retrieved to laptop. Ace turned on the lights and you both continued the night without acknowledging what happened. He slept over though.

-Deuce- (same theme as Ace’s but different story)

You usually loved movie night with Ace and Deuce, but not when Ace got to choose the movie. He was quite fond of the horror genre, and you can’t say you were a fan. To make this movie night more interesting, Ace was sick, so he was only able to watch through video-call.

“Dude please, you shouldn’t even be able to choose the movie since you’re not here,” Deuce argued.

“But it’s my turn to pick the movie!” Ace sent back.

“Guys can we just start the movie? The popcorn is going to get cold!” The two boys stopped bickering. You and Deuce agreed to keep the lights on, hoping to keep it from getting too scary.

Ace had chosen “Decapitation Classroom” as tonight’s film. Sam had recommended it the last time he was at the store. You sat Laptop Ace on the ground facing the TV, and you and Deuce awkwardly sat as far apart from each other on the couch as possible. You pressed play and began watching.

About 15 minutes passed when Deuce carefully moved closer to you, and you instinctively did the same.

“You can hide in my arm if you get scared,” Deuce nervously whispered to you. You found yourself scooting closer to him again, this time leaning on his shoulder. He covered you with part of the blanket he brought with. His face was bright red as he swore you just scooted closer.

“Thank you,” you whispered back once you were cozy. He moved the bowl of popcorn under the blanket so you both could stay warm and eat popcorn. However your hands were connected the moment they touched and the popcorn wasn’t being eaten anymore.

More time passed and eventually he freed your hand to move the bowl from between you, and he put his arm around your shoulders to bring you closer. You could hear his loud, quick heartbeat as he continued to watch the movie. He must’ve been nervous. It was a horror movie after all.

A sudden jumpscare had your face buried into his chest in fear. He held your head gently to make you feel more secure, but deep down it was just to keep you closer to him. His face went bright red again when he looked down at you. He was overwhelmed with the urge to protect you, and he briefly thought about what his mom would think. You then felt a small kiss on your head.

And when you looked up at him, he closed his eyes and kissed you suddenly. Your wide eyes fluttered closed as you let yourself enjoy it. When he pulled away, he hid himself in his blanket, making you almost choke with laughter.

“Hey what’s up? What’s so funny?” Ace called from the laptop, queuing you and Deuce back into reality.

“Nothing important, Deuce just spilled popcorn on himself,” you lied. Ace was alright with that explanation, and the three of you went back to the movie.

You and Deuce cuddled knowing there was no way Ace was allowed to know.

- authors notes-

you can really tell who my favorites are in this 😅 however i can’t tell if it’s clear that i’m not a trey fan. hope you guys like these. let me know if you want more of this or if you have any ideas for other oneshots you want to see 💕

-Skai Mai

#twst wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst ace #twst riddle #twst deuce #twst cater #twst trey #i really dislike trey #i know it’s not obvious but my god #twst oneshot #twst first kiss #twst heartslabyul

38 notes · View notes

jakesimfromstatefarm · 4 years

Text

how to fake date your best friend | jake sim

✰ summary: the rules were simple -

pretend to be the boyfriend of you, his best friend who wants the attention of their crush, for a week and a week only

no kissing (bc gross cooties amirite) allowed, unless needed in times of desperate measure

and no matter what, absolutely, most definitely, do not fall in love.

simple, right?

well apparently not. because news flash––jake's already broken one of the rules.

and to give you a hint, it's neither rule 1 or 2.

✰ pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. members of enha!]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy | fakingdating!au, highschool!au, bestfriend!au, friends to lovers

✰ warnings: cursing, high-schoolers doing dumb highschool things, underage drinking (pls don’t actually do any of this irl), jake being a certified simp, it’s LONG (i’m so sorry), cheesy kithes bc im a sucker for kithes ( ˘ ³˘)♥

✰ wc: a whopping 9.5k

✰ a/n: it’s finally finished :’)))))) it ended up being much longer than i wanted but i had so much fun writing the characters that i got carried away lolol anywaysss i hope you guys enjoy it,,,i got a little unmotivated during the process bc i didn’t know if it was good or not but here it is heh (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

Tuesday, December 8th

Jake Sim lives a simple life.

He likes to think he leads the normal, stereotypical life of a teenage boy. Has decent grades, plays soccer after school, skateboards around the neighborhood, has a best friend who he’s desperately in love with, and has a stable group of friends.

Okay, maybe not so simple, because this boy would physically launch himself to the moon and drill at its surface to collect moon dust for you if you asked him to––despite his deadly fear of combusting in outer space.

But that fear doesn’t even compare to his worst one yet: not having you in his life.

And so, he decided to just repress any and all feelings he’s had for you ever since he discovered them in middle school, when he realized he hated seeing you go to the eighth grade dance with a date––that wasn’t him.

He decided that he wasn’t going to risk losing a life-long friendship over some dumb, teenage boy feelings.

They were probably powered by his testosterone anyways. Yeah, that’s totally it.

He’s totally not in love with you.

So yes, he lives a pretty normal life. Every day is the same as the last, and tomorrow will be the same as today. But he likes it like that––he doesn’t want anything to change.

Especially not now, when he finds himself content with every aspect of his life (okay maybe except for his history grade, god, does he hate history).

So, it catches him off guard when you arrive at the group’s usual lunch table, located outside in your school’s courtyard, looking as excited as ever.

Jake’s the only one at the table so far. The remaining usually showed up late––Heeseung spends his first half of lunch tutoring freshmen for community service hours (but the poor boy has no idea what he’s doing), Sunghoon is probably stuck in line in the cafeteria again (he always forgets to pack his own lunch), and Jay is...well actually, no one ever knows where Jay comes from. He’s a special one.

It catches Jake even more off guard when you skip over any greeting a normal person would give, and start speaking at one hundred words per second.

And that catches us up to the present.

“Y-You want me to what?” Jake’s stuttering as you stare at him with your hopeful eyes from across the lunch table.

Despite the expression planted on your face, which screams your excitement for your “brilliant, amazing, genius, Einstein-could-never” idea (or whatever other words you used to describe it––Jake can’t exactly recall the specific terms you used, they all came out of your mouth too fast), you don’t respond to his question of bafflement. You continue to stare at him, awaiting his response. Jake could compare the look on your face right now to a puppy looking up at its owner, eagerly waiting for a treat. You know, tongue out and all.

He swallows the lump that’s lodged in this throat (is that the sandwich he’s having, or his nerves?) and continues to give you his look of confusion laced with a nervous smile because surely, you’re joking.

You grab what’s left of your sandwich from his hands and take your own bite. Somewhere in between you arriving at the table and now, Jake’s managed to steal the sandwich you brought today. You did make the best chicken sandwiches, in his defense.

“Well? It’s only for the week! And I promise you, after one week, if nothing happens––if he doesn’t make a move or anything––I’ll move on from him like you’ve been telling me to.” Your words are muffled from you savoring your sandwich, or what’s left of it anyways. (Mental note to self: don’t share your lunch with Jake ever again.)

When Jake still doesn’t respond (you’ve truly gotten this poor boy paralyzed), you find it as a sign to continue.

“I think it’s the perfect plan. Plus, if it doesn’t work out, it’ll be like the universe is telling me to finally move on, right?”

Wrong.

Jake has been encouraging you to move on from your crush because well, if we’re being honest here, he selfishly wants you to himself. Even if it wasn’t romantically.

Preferably, he would kill to get to be the one who holds your hand in the hall, call you cheesy pet names, post disgustingly cute couple pics for the ‘gram––but for the sake of potentially ruining his relationship with you, he’ll just have to settle with the role of being your best friend.

(And he’s totally fine with that! Totally. Yup.)

But he didn’t think that you moving on would only be a mere possible outcome (that may not even happen!) from whatever this stunt is you wanna pull.

Said stunt: Pretend to date one another and hope it catches the eye of a certain someone you have your eye on: Park Sunghoon.

Ah yes, Park Sunghoon. The previously mentioned one who’s probably still in line waiting to get his lunch as we speak.

Park Sunghoon, the tall, kind, intelligent, charming young boy that everyone knows. And if anyone didn’t know him, they most definitely knew of him. He wasn’t hard to miss in the halls; everything about him just radiates perfection.

If you plucked a random high-schooler from the halls of this school and interviewed them on the Park Sunghoon, they’d say you’d be lucky enough if the quiet boy so much as sparked a conversation with you, even if it was about what last night’s chemistry homework was.

Well if that were true, then you and the rest of the boys would be considered lottery winners.

How that happened, how the four of you dysfunctional beings earned his friendship, the world may never know. However, Jake is fully convinced that this was the universe’s way of playing a cruel joke on him.

For as long as Jake could remember, it’s always been just the two of you. You and Jake. Jake and you. (With the exception of Heeseung and Jay, of course, who came along in middle school)

In fact, your earliest memory of Jake was when he peed his pants in the kindergarten during nap time. You would know, you had the privilege of sharing a sleeping mat with him that one fateful day and in result...let’s just say the smell didn’t wear off from your clothes until a week later. Five-year-old you didn’t forgive five-year-old Jake for the longest time.

And since then, you’ve been attached by the hip. And Jake liked it like that. Jake didn’t need anyone else in his life (with the exception of Leila) if he had you. He had found his home within you, and he didn’t plan on sharing his space anytime soon.

Nevertheless, the universe had a completely different idea for the two of you.

Sunghoon came into the picture last year, towards the end of the school year. Despite being the new kid, he found his way into your cherished friend group and naturally, the five of you grew as close as friends could be.

That was the problem. Jake wanted to hate Sunghoon, to despise him for being the one that you had heart eyes for, but he couldn’t.

Not only was Sunghoon one of Jake’s closest friends, but he didn’t want to ruin the dynamic of the friend group. After you, the three chaotic boys were the next most important people in Jake’s life.

And so, we have the typical love triangle plot that every coming-of-age movie follows. Of course, this is all unbeknownst to you––you may be intelligent and a people-person, but oh boy can you not see the heart eyes your very own best friend has for you.

“It’ll be easier than you think, really! Look, we can even set boundaries or rules or whatever,” you propose, as if you’re trying to get him to sign a contract.

Rules to a fake relationship? We’re not living in a Netflix romcom, are we?

“Okay rule number 1: it’ll only be for a week and a week only, rule number 2: we don’t have to do anything too couple-ly like...” you pause to wonder for a second.

“Like PDA or anything! You know, unless we really need to convince him,” you casually add. When he responds with radio silence and stares at you with absolute concern painted all over his face, you cough. “Jake, I’m joking.”

Right. Of course. Obviously.

“And of course, just try not to fall in love with me, it’ll be hard, I know,” you send a playful wink his way.

Too late. Turns out it’s not that hard. Jake would know.

Jake continues to stare at you in hesitation. Yeah, you’ve had your fair share of crazy ideas (that Jake always find himself agreeing to––the poor boy just can’t seem to say no to you), but fake dating you?

Jake is sure he wouldn’t be able to pull it off without slowly destroying himself. He’d just have to say no, he’s sure you can find someone else to do it for you.

Yes, that’s it, just say no.

Jake has to keep some of his pride in tact.

Jake does not say no.

He doesn’t know what went wrong. His mind said one thing, but his words said another.

To be fair, Jake’s actions have always been influenced by his heart, not his brain, anyways. And when it comes to you, you bet it’ll be coming from his heart.

So here he was now, under the stare of three equally shocked and confused guys across from you and him at the lunch table, your fingers intertwined with his.

Just a few seconds ago, you had spotted the rest of the lunch bunch approaching the table, and you quickly grabbed Jake’s hand and scooted in closer to him.

Now here you were, explaining to your friends of your sudden relationship.

Jake is too zoned out to even physically pick up your explanation. Something along the lines of "we’ve been dating for a while but didn’t want to tell you guys yet." From the feeling of your hand clutched tightly into his and your body right up next to him, his mind was short-circuiting.

How is he supposed to last an entire week of this if he couldn't handle innocent hand holding? Hand holding? God, what are we, back in the fifth grade?

Two minutes into this scheme and Jake's mind has already downgraded itself to a fifth grader's.

Jake mentally scolds himself for giving in, this was not a good idea.

It takes Jake approximately 12 hours to conclude that this stunt of yours may, actually, be a good idea. He knows this because approximately 12 hours after the events surrounding lunch, he receives a text from you:

y/n [12:03AM]: thanks again for doing this for me jake

y/n [12:03AM]: ur actually the best

y/n [12:04AM]: ew ok that was cheesy but really i owe u a big one <333

Following your thread of texts is a really close up photo of you widely smiling into the camera. A smile so big, Jake’s convinced your face was probably in pain after taking that picture.

Anyone else might’ve thought the photo looked borderline insane but because Jake’s Jake, aka a simpᵗᵐ for you, he comes to the conclusion that it’s singlehandedly the cutest thing he’s ever seen in the entire world.

After quickly saving the selfie into his phone, Jake tells himself that maybe this won’t be a bad thing after all. I mean, anything that makes you smile like that meant it has to be a good idea, right?

Spoken like a true simp.

Plus, dating you––fake dating you––is pretty much the same as it was before. He already spends most of his days with you to begin with. Now, it’s just with added displays of affection. For show, obviously. Obviously.

And look, if Jake will never get to actually be with you, then he’ll take what he can get. And if that meant fake dating you, well, he reasons that it’s better than nothing at all.

Wednesday, December 9th

Jake’s playing with the rings on your right hand and you’re in the middle of dramatically telling the lunch table about the infuriating Karen you had to deal with at work the other day when Jay comes up with a grin you all know a little too well.

“Okay that grin means one of two things: you finally grew the balls to ask out that poor girl you’ve been teasing all year or you have something planned that we won’t like,” you interrupt your story when you catch Jay’s sly expression, evoking a chuckle from Jake, who’s now found a new distraction with the bracelets perches on your wrist.

“Excuse you, I’ll have you know that I did ask her out. It just so happens that she’s currently ‘in between boyfriends’ whatever that means. Ouch, by the way,” Jay feigns hurt from your comment by clutching the area above his heart through his shirt. Ever the drama queen. “But yes, I do have something planned. And no, it’s not a bad idea.”

Jay squeezes his way in between Sunghoon and Heeseung from across you and begins to pull out his own lunch. Everyone’s eyes follow him as he settles in because as bad as his unknown idea may be, you’re all still curious on what this boy has to say.

“Well are you going to elaborate or...” Heeseung speaks up for everyone after you all mentally debate one another through darting eyes on who’s going to have to bite Jay’s silent bait.

Jay then forcefully sets both hands on his table, which elicits a little jump from you as you go for a bite of your sandwich. Adorable, Jake tells himself.

“My parents are out of town this weekend. We all know what that means...”

Yes. We do know what that means. The four of you have seen this scenario play out many times, a little too many times for your own good.

This meant one of Jay’s infamous house parties that he always throws whenever his parents go out of town. And because his parents are hot-shot CEOs of an important company whose name you don’t remember (it’s nothing personal, your brain can only handle so much information and this physics exam you were studying for took up 90% of your brain capacity at the moment), they’re out of town often.

And along with Jay’s parties comes chaos. Lots of it. And that’s because...well, it’s safe to say that despite the many school-wide presentations the police officers of your school have held in the auditorium on why you shouldn’t drink underage, Jay’s parents’ liquor cabinet always seems to find itself missing many a few bottles after each party. But we don’t talk about that. Shush.

Almost simultaneously, everyone at the table lets out a groan, much to Jay’s disappointment.

“C’mon guys! It’s been a while since anything’s fun happened to this school, think of all the sad students in that building right now,” he extends a finger whole-ass arm and points at your school, “who are in dire need of fun and a little...” he punctuates his sentence with the hand motion of chugging down a drink, followed with a gulping sound elicited from his tongue clicking.

You roll your eyes along with everyone else. Don’t be like Jay, kids. Listen to those police officers.

“Jay, it’s midterm season! I have an exam on Monday and I definitely do not want to spend the nights before wasted,” you give him an apologetic look. As crazy as Jay is, you do feel bad nonetheless. The boy just wants to have fun.

Your response is followed up with similar comments from around the table.

“I’m helping y/n study”

“I have an important skating performance on Sunday”

“Uh...my hamster died?” (ok Heeseung panicked, don’t blame the guy)

Ignoring that last excuse of an excuse, Jay continues his debate nonetheless. “Just come for the sake of it! No one’s saying you have to get wasted. Pleaseeee for me?”

Jay throws these parties so often, you’re not sure why he’s so set on making sure you’re all going to be there. Well, I guess who wouldn’t want their closest friends to be at their own party?

That and, Jay needs to make sure his friends are there to stop him from doing anything stupid. We all know this boy has had enough embarrassing moments to last him a lifetime.

Everyone at the table gives each other the same hesitant look. Heeseung is the first to give in, “Oh fuck it. Sure, count me in.”

Jay’s fist pumping the air before turning to Sunghoon with the most hopeful eyes.

Sunghoon simply sighs in return. “Alright okay, I’ll bite. But if you vomit on my shoes again, I’m out the door.” Jay’s finger is automatically drawing a cross over his heart as a promise to not ruin Sunghoon’s Nikes again.

He then looks to you with puppy eyes.

You, who's already staring back at Jay with a stoic look in your eyes, are stubborn and (unlike the previous weaklings) are not as easy to convince. And somehow, this began an unannounced staring contest between the two of you, a contest to see who would budge first. This isn't an uncommon occurrence between you and Jay, but the rest of the boys are still on the edges of their seats watching this duel.

Jake casually wraps an arm around your shoulder and you’re brought in close, but still undeterred from your death-stare match with the boy across from you.

If it’s not obvious enough, Jake’s really gotten into his role of being your boyfriend, despite it only being 24 hours since he last froze at your touch. Character development, you’ll give him that.

You almost forget he’s faking it for a quick second. And for an even quicker second, you imagine he wasn’t faking it. And you swear you feel butterflies in your stomach at that thought.

Weird.

You mentally shake the thought out of your head. Priorities first, aka, beating Jay in this staring contest.

“Fuck,” you stutter when you finally blink, admitting defeat to a grinning Jay. “Okay, okay, I’ll THINK about it. I’ll let you know.”

Not exactly the answer Jay was looking for, but he’ll take it. Better than a no.

He turns to Jake next, knowing there’s no way Jake will turn down a party. Just like Jay, the boy loves himself a good party.

But–

But because Jake would take your physics exam this Monday for you if you asked, because Jake would bungee jump in the Grand Canyon without a safety net below him if you asked, because Jake would fake date you to make your crush jealous for you if you asked, he doesn’t hesitate in his answer this time around: “Same as y/n, I’ll let you know.”

Jay looks at Jake. Then back at you, who he’s still clinging onto like a koala to a tree. Then back at Jake. “You two are gross. Admittedly cute. But gross.”

You look up at the boy next to you to see him already grinning at you.

For the first time today, you find yourself agreeing with Jay.

Admittedly cute.

Thursday, December 10th

You are having a bad day.

You’re having the mother of bad days.

Not only is it midterm season, but you still have all your regular weekly assignments to finish before Friday hits. So as a natural-born procrastinator does, you stayed up all last night trying to get a good amount of work done because what’s better than cramming all your work the night before it’s due? Doing it two nights before it’s due.

Well apparently it wasn’t such a good idea. Because now, here you were, frantically throwing on whatever articles of clothing you find nearest to you because you slept through all your alarms.

You’re lucky enough to make it through your school’s doors right as the second bell rings, even if you did look like you just walked straight out of a zombie apocalypse.

You’re not so lucky when you find out your first class of the day, calculus, had a pop quiz. A pop quiz on the only unit you just happened to know absolutely nothing about.

To top things off, you forgot to pack your lunch during this morning’s frenzy, meaning you’re automatically stuck sharing with Jake.

And because his mother started making him pack his own food out of a lesson of responsibility (she said something along the lines of: “Jake, you’re about to be in college and you don’t know how to pack a decent meal”), he only has a plain PB&J sandwich and a pack of Scooby-Doo gummies in his bag today (because newsflash, he still doesn’t know how to pack a decent meal).

Not that you could care less at the moment, you were too preoccupied with catching up on your assignments to even eat. And if any of the boys noticed your zombie-like state during lunch, they did a good job of not mentioning it. They knew better than to bother an irritated y/n.

Somehow, you make it through the entire school day and your after-school meeting for environmental club (save the trees!) in one piece. As you finally walk out of the school building, you exhale, automatically feeling lighter. At least the hard part of your day was done.

Now you just had to wait for Jake to finish soccer practice, which usually ended around the same time as your club, and he can drive you home, where you can continue being irritated with your day in the privacy of your own space.

You wait on the steps of the school’s entrance, waiting for a smiley Jake to come around the corner as he usually does at 5:30pm every Thursdays.

Yes, a smiling Jake is exactly what you needed to make your day ten times better, you conclude.

As if on cue, you hear a ding from your phone.

Jake [5:30PM]: ugh coach is extending practice for “team bonding”

Jake [5:30PM]: idek what team bonding is

Jake [5:31PM]: you ok if i cant drive you today? ://

It’s as if the universe decided to use you as its punching bag today.

You physically let out a distorted groan, not caring if anyone who happened to hear you thought you were a creature from out of this world, as you send him a text back.

y/n [5:32PM]: it’s all good lol have fun with tEaM bOnDiNg

Things were not all good. But no matter how upset you may be, you weren’t going to project your negative vibes onto Jake’s naturally positive ones. So you get up from the stone steps and begin your dreaded walk back home.

It’s freezing out. You should’ve known better to just throw on a hoodie and call it a day when it’s the middle of December. But then again, you figured by now you’d be in the comfort and warmth of Jake’s car and presence...not walking home in these freezing temperatures.

You think about Jake and how he’s probably currently suffering from not only his team bonding exercises (but really though, what are team bonding exercises?), but doing them in this weather as well. The poor boy.

You’re quickly broken out of your thoughts by the sound of a car engine from behind you. When you don’t see it pass by you and instead hear it pull over and park next to the curb of the sidewalk you’re currently on, you automatically deduce that this is it, this is my time, I’m about to get kidnapped by whoever it is behind me but y/n, you should probably turn around and check first before you drive yourself insane in this inner dialogue.

You turn around and squint into the front window of the car. If it were a kidnapper, this is exactly what your mother told you not to do. Her exact words were: “Run, don’t look back, and scream bloody murder.”

Good thing it wasn’t. Just an innocent Sunghoon waving his hand at you, motioning you to get in.

“Sunghoon?” You approach his car and stop at the passenger side’s open window.

“y/n! It’s freezing out, I’ll drive you home c’mon,” he nods his head towards the passenger side door.

Well, how could you say no? Sunghoon owns a nice car. Like a nice car. Like car-seat-heaters-that-make-you-feel-like-you’re-physically-melting nice. Beats getting hypothermia outside, right?

“Why are you going home from school so late?” You ask as you settle into his car, instantly melting at the touch of the aforementioned heated seats.

“Debate club, actually. Decided I needed another personality trait other than ice skating,” he starts the engine and begins driving towards the direction of your neighborhood.

You laugh at his comment, you didn’t peg him as a debate kind of student. Quiet Sunghoon? Debate club? If 2 plus 2 is four...

“Hey, I don’t call you the Ice Prince for nothing! Also, don’t forget your other personality trait: forgetting your lunch every day.”

Sunghoon quickly glances over at you to send you a dirty look (because eyes on the road, kids!), which you return with a cheeky grin. “Need I remind you that was you today?”

“Touché,” you click your tongue.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the faint sound of Sunghoon's music in the background filling in the quietness.

You’re humming along until Sunghoon breaks the silence, “Did Jake get stuck at practice again?”

You don’t know why, but you swear you feel your heart beat faster at the mention of Jake’s name. No, that was always there right? Because you were with Sunghoon...your crush..obviously. Obviously.

Ignoring the feeling, you turn your attention towards the boy driving you.

“Oh yeah, something about team bonding. How’d you know?”

“Eh, I just figured since he wasn’t driving you home like he always does.” He turns into your neighborhood.

You nod at his answer.

“You two make a good couple.”

You whip your head at him. Did you hear him correctly?

“It was about time, really. You two have been ogling at one another for so long, Heeseung, Jay, and I almost placed bets on who would be the first to make a move.”

He keeps his eyes on the road, casually going on about how you and Jake make the cutest couple he’s ever seen.

You're frozen, unsure of what to think, let alone say.

You think to two days ago, when you started this entire fake relationship because of the very boy driving you home right now. The same boy who's complimenting you on your fake relationship. The same boy who's supposed to be jealous over that said relationship. The same boy you’re supposed to be crushing over.

But now...only a mere 48 hours later, you were finding yourself okay with the fact that he was happy for you. And for the life of you, you couldn’t remember why you liked Sunghoon in the first place. Not saying he isn’t one to be crushed on, I mean, look at the guy.

Maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the fact that you didn't feel nervous or giddy or..anything at all when you got into the car with Sunghoon. At least, not until Jake's name was mentioned. That's when you felt the butterflies. At the mention of Jake.

Jake.

Weird.

But before you can come to a conclusion on why you're feeling the way you do, Sunghoon interrupts your thoughts.

"Well, we're here! Say hi to your parents for me," he pulls into your driveway as you're still collecting your thoughts.

You give him a quick thanks and one last wave as you enter the front doors of your house.

Seeing that your only solution towards confusing feelings meant distracting yourself, distract yourself you did.

Even if it meant distracting yourself with your piling assignments.

The next time you look up from your work, it's suddenly way past sundown and a heavy storm has taken over. You’re surprised it hasn’t started flooding yet with the amount of rainfall you were hearing.

You check the time on your phone, the bright 8:16PM on the screen illuminating your dimly lit room. Seeing that neither of your parents have yet to be home from work, it looks like you were going to have to settle with some instant ramen for dinner tonight.

As you trudge down the stairs of your home, the sound of light knocking against the front door catches your attention. It's been a long day y/n, you're probably hearing things, it's definitely just the rain.

Nope. There it is again, but much louder. Much more urgent.

You contemplate any and all potential disasters that could happen from answering the door. Only a crazy person would be willing to go out in this hurricane-like weather to be frantically knocking on your door.

And so, you assume it has to be some psychopath trying to get into your house. Yes, there’s definitely no other logical explanation.

You scramble around your living room, looking for the next best weapon to defend you. Resorting to the flower vase your mother keeps on the table next to the front door, you hold it out in front of you, as if you're waiting for the door to burst open.

The knocking continues, gradually getting louder. You mentally curse at yourself for dropping out of the taekwondo class your dad signed you up for when you were younger.

Vase in hand, you swing open the door and brace for–

"Jake? What the fuck? Get in here, you're gonna get sick!"

You’re suddenly aware of how stupid you look, holding a light pink vase with a couple of orchids as your only form of self-defense...for it to only be your own best friend. You immediately put it back on the table as Jake quickly rushes past you and into your humble abode.

You close the door behind you and turn to face the soaked boy.

“I come bearing gifts, also known as take-out and hot chocolate from that one cafe you love. Also my company, if you’ll take it. I had a feeling you weren’t having the best day today,” he’s simply standing there, holding up a large brown paper bag in one hand, and a deliciously smelling cup of hot chocolate in the other, but you’re looking at him as if he bought you the Moon.

You stare in awe at the angel of a boy in front of you, silently thanking the stars for gifting you this amazing human being as your best friend. You don’t know what you did to deserve him.

You give him a soft smile. “Jake, you didn’t have to. It’s practically a shitstorm out there,” you cock your head towards the window, showcasing the downpour of cats and dogs outside. Jake stays by the entrance as you go down the hall and through your house’s linen closet to find a spare towel for the drenched boy.

“Nah it’s no big deal, really. Just fulfilling my duties as your loyal boyfriend,” he grins, even though you can’t see him. He likes calling himself that. Your boyfriend.

Jake continues to shake his messy hair to get the excess rain off, giving a mental apology to whoever is going to have to mop up the puddle forming on the floor due to his unannounced visit. Probably you.

Jake hears you laugh down the hall. “You’re really invested in your role, huh? Keep this up and you might actually trick me into believing you’re my actual boyfriend.”

Actual boyfriend? Jake likes the sound of that. Maybe he will keep this up then.

Jake doesn’t have much experience in acting, unless you count that time he played the role of Town Villager #3 in the third grade play, so he never found it as one of his interests. But playing the role of your boyfriend was one he was willing to fulfill for the rest of life, even if it was just for show.

Jake doesn’t respond to your comment, he’s instead self-aware of his blushing cheeks, thankful that you’re too busy rummaging through your linen closet to take notice.

“Plus, you didn’t have lunch today and I had feeling you were going to be too caught up in your work to feed yourself anything other than instant ramen,” he sets down his gifts to you on your living room’s coffee table as you come around the corner, fresh towel and new set of clothes in hand.

His eyes fall on the familiar looking pair of sweatpants and hoodie resting on the palms of your hands.

Hm. A little too familiar.

Then, it clicks in his head.

His eyes narrow at you as you giggle at his reaction, “Oh, so it takes me getting drenched in the rain for you to finally return my clothes that I’ve been missing!?”

“Hey! I’m not returning them, simply loaning them out to a friend who’s in dire need. You basically gifted them to me the second you left them here months ago.”

“You’re annoying.”

“Love you too,” you toss the clothes at him and take a seat on the floor around your coffee table, prepping the table with the boxes of Chinese food Jake supplied.

After Jake changes into the stolen dry clothes, he takes a seat next to an already-eating you at the coffee table.

“You. are. my lord and savior Sim Jaeyun,” you’re saying with your mouth full of fried rice. You sigh from satisfaction and rest your head against Jake’s shoulder as you continue chewing. He grins as he helps himself to his own serving of fried rice and orange chicken.

You look up at him from your spot, “How was team bonding today?”

Jake groans in response, clearly annoyed. “Stupid. I don’t get how doing trust falls and pyramid building is going to get us any closer. If anything, I almost FELL off that pyramid today!”

You don’t know why, but you find yourself admiring him and his soft features as he continues to rant about one of his teammates, specifically, the one who almost dropped him.

The way his messy hair, unkept from the rain ruining it, almost covers his eyes (but you tell yourself you like it this way, it looks more natural on him), the way the corners of his lips are always perked upwards (even when he’s ranting), the way his eyes sparkle whenever he’s truly passionate about whatever he’s talking about, the way his eyes look at you like–

“Stare much? Look, I get you can’t resist my good looks but at least be subtle about it,” he smirks at you as he takes another spoon of rice.

You break out of his trance and scoff at him.

“You’re cute when you rant,” you nonchalantly say as you move from your spot to mirror his actions and add more rice to your plate as well. Jake’s stills at your sudden comment, unsure of how to respond. Lucky for him, you’re distracted by the mountain of food on your plate to even notice the blushing mess of a boy next to you.

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute. Or else I’d deck you right here and now for ditching me after school today.”

Anddd there goes the moment. Leave it to you to follow up a compliment with a threat of violence.

Jake finds it cute anyways. He always finds you cute.

Jake narrows his eyes and lightly shoves you before an apology is written all over his face. “Sorry about that by the way. I feel awful about making you walk home when it was freezing out.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Sunghoon gave me a ride, actually. Did you know he does debate? I guess you learn something new everyday,” you ramble, unaware of the boy next to you getting tense at the sudden mention of the other’s name.

Up until now, Jake’s completely forgotten about Sunghoon's involvement in this entire scheme. In fact, the past 48 hours with you have felt so normal, so comfortable, he almost forgot about the deal in the first place. “You think he has any clue?” Jake suddenly asks, referring to the plan.

You immediately know what he’s referring to, as Jake practically worded out your very own thoughts.

You shrug. “Not a single one. We’re practically William and Kate in his eyes. But honestly, that’s the least of my worries right now. I’m too distracted by my exams right now to care.”

Jake feels guilty for being satisfied with your answer. He’s 100% sure that if convincing Sunghoon took you two an entire lifetime of fake dating, he’d be all too willing to do it.

“Go to Jay’s party with me tomorrow,” he abruptly says, catching your attention as your mouth is stuffed. Cute.

He pokes your cheek. “It’ll get your mind off of work and plus, what’s more convincing than showing up to a party with your amazing boyfriend?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Jake doesn’t know where he gets his sudden surge of confidence. But he does know he loves calling himself your boyfriend...even if it’s for the time being.

Rolling your eyes and swatting his poking fingers away from your face, you ponder on his suggestion.

“You mean my annoying boyfriend,” you stick your tongue out at him. Jake takes a mental picture and hopes it never leaves his mind.

“But I guess you could be right. Maybe I can clear my head for the night before I study my ass off all weekend.”

Friday, December 11th

The party does not clear your mind.

If anything, it gives you enough headaches to last you at least until the end of high-school.

You come to this revelation as you and Jake approach Jay’s home, a luxurious mansion sitting at the end of a cul-de-sac, lined with similarly luxurious palaces, located in an equally luxurious neighborhood.

You come to this revelation when you can already feel the pounding bass of music as you walk up Jay’s driveway.

You come to this revelation when, not even two seconds after entering Jay’s front doors––

“You’re here!” A buzzed Jay shouts at the two of you, causing the both of you to contemplate your past choices that brought you here today. Jay definitely isn’t straight up drunk yet, but Jake still makes a mental note to keep an eye on him tonight. Just in case.

The blonde-haired boy is quick to hand over two red solo cups of god knows what, to which you and Jake immediately put down on the nearest table after Jay walks away to greet the next incoming guests (you know, to not hurt his feelings).

You and Jake are lucky enough to have been around Jay and his parties long enough to know that going all out at these parties will not be pretty the next morning.

You cringe at the memory of last year, when you had to suffer from possibly the worst hangover of all hangovers after one of Jay’s parties. Jake will never let you forget how miserable you looked the next morning. His camera roll’s album titled “y/n blackmail pics” can vouch for that.

“Remind me again to never listen to you,” you almost have to shout at Jake over the thumping music. Jake laughs at your comment and tugs at your hand as he begins entering the house.

The two of you do your rounds of greetings to the people you know...and random underclassmen who you swear you have never seen before but somehow made it to this party. You’ve always questioned how Jay’s invite list worked. Maybe there isn’t one. That would explain how it looked like someone announced Jay was giving out free Teslas and the entire school got hold of the news.

“Thank god you guys are here,” you hear a voice come from behind the two of you as you guys leave the main room to enter the house’s smaller, but just as luxurious looking, den. You turn to see Heeseung with Sunghoon following closely behind, trying his best not to get swept away in the crowd of people.

The den is where you usually stayed during these parties. It’s not like there are rules of where people are allowed to party, by any means, but it’s like how a high-school’s cafeteria worked. There’s a mutual silent agreement of where everyone goes, and the den is where the party host and his friends went.

“Okay, is it just me, or is tonight’s party just a little...too..much?” Sunghoon asks as the four of you take your seats on the main couch of the room. Jake’s quick to make space for you next to him as you go to sit, but to his surprise, you find your home right on his lap.

“You said be convincing right?” you say into his ear as you settle yourself. Right. That’s totally why. Because you had to go along with the ruse. Obviously.

You shift a bit so you’re more facing sideways, not blocking off Jake’s line of vision as the boy himself is..well, calling him a rag doll might be excessive.

But he’s sure he looks like one right now, having lost all senses in his limbs, leaving him frozen underneath you.

Jake Sim is the epitome of politeness. He was raised in a family that taught him how to respectfully greet others, how to always offer food to others before eating it himself, how to properly treat a significant other. As a result, Jake grew up to be one of the sweetest, kindest, purest people to ever walk this earth.

(Relatively speaking, the earth is large, but so is Jake’s heart.)

But human-beings aren’t perfect, they must have a balance. A balance of pros and cons.

Sure, he can’t pack his own lunch and sometimes forgets to water the little succulent you gifted him that’s currently seated on his window sill. Sure, sometimes he’s too sweet for his own good, you know, like willing-to-be-your-fake-boyfriend too sweet. But aside from the minor details, Jake Sim doesn’t have many cons, no.

But he sure can be awkward.

And so because Jake Sim is sweet, kind, pure, and awkward, he is unsure of what to do with himself when you’re seated right on top of him.

As if you could read his befuddled mind, you take his arm that’s resting behind you to wrap around your waist as your support as you throw one of your arms around his shoulder. And throughout this entire adjustment, his widened eyes are staring right at you.

Bless this pure, pure boy.

Also bless the position you’re in, blocking the two other boys from directly seeing Jake’s face. Because if they were to catch glimpse of Jake’s expression right now, your cover might be blown, just like that. You’re lucky Heeseung and Sunghoon are distracted by another classmate who came up to them.

“Relax,” you sweetly laugh, cupping his chin with your free hand and lightly squeezing his cheeks. “You’re so adorably awkward.”

Jake pouts at you. “I am not awkward!”

“Right, and I’m totally dating you for real,” you playfully whisper at him, eliciting a poke at your waist in response.

Twenty minutes of people-watching-aka-“who do you think is gonna pass out first?”-from-your-spot-on-the-couch later, the four of you draw your attention to the rowdy party host you all have the honor of calling your friend––aka Jay––dancing (that is, if you call wildly swinging your limbs in all four directions dancing) in the middle of the den.

"Oh god, look at him," Sunghoon voices from besides you.

Heeseung's already filming the moment on his phone. Ah yes, technology. The best thing to ever happen to drunk teens' friends.

"He's so wasted," you throw your head back as you let out a laugh. “We should help the kid out.”

Poor Jay. He's not gonna hear the end of it after tonight.

"I don't know why he thinks these parties are such a good idea when he knows how trashed he's gonna be when he wakes up," Jake says, his hand naturally squeezing your waist as you giggle at his comment. "And how trashed the house will be."

Jay slumbers over to where the four of you are seated, and abruptly stops right in front of the couch.

"My best friends!" Jay happily cheers. “Having fun?”

“Watching you? Always,” you say to the boy who’s squeezing into a seat between you and Sunghoon, as if the small couch wasn’t already suffocating enough (and that’s with you on Jake’s lap).

“But for real though, you should probably lay off the drinks for now,” Heeseung insists. “For all our sakes.”

Sunghoon nods along and grabs the cup Jay’s currently nursing and sets it down where it’s out of Jay’s reach, much to his dismay. But the disappointment quickly leaves the dazed boy’s head, as his attention is now directed towards you and Jake.

“Well if it isn’t mom and dad,” Jay turns to face you and Jake, certainly amused by your seating arrangement.

“You know–” Jay points a finger at the two of you. “For a couple that’s certainly close, I haven’t seen you two kiss.”

Jake is immediately coughing, certainly not expecting that to come out of his friend’s mouth.

“Okay and your point is?” Jake frowns at Jay. If Jay wasn’t tipsy, Jake would’ve smacked the back of his head by now.

“I’m just saying...” the blonde responds, both hands up in the air as if Jake is accusing him of something, when in was, in fact, the opposite. “But nevermind, Jakey boy here is probably too innocent for such nonsense anyways.”

Yes, it’s confirmed. Once Jay sobers up tomorrow, Jake is driving over to his house (even though it’s a good ten minute drive from his own) just to smack him.

“What do you mean I’m too–”

Jake doesn’t finish his sentence. In fact, Jake doesn’t even remember what he was going to say.

Jake doesn’t think nor feel anything else other than your lips planted on his.

You’re pulling him in close, your hands cupping his face as his own are twitching on your waist, his mind flustered. You move your hands from his face to his neck, to which Jake immediately relaxes at.

Sure, you two are in the middle of a dumb high-school party, one filled with pounding music and shouting teenagers, but right now, in this moment, Jake can only feel you. And he doesn’t want the feeling to ever stop.

When you part, Jake’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, his own parted in shock. He thinks he might pass out right here and now. He thinks his heart might explode right here and now. He thinks he might lov-

“Happy?” you turn to a satisfied Jay, ignoring the looks of amusement from Heesung and Sunghoon besides him.

“Well,” you pat Jake’s leg as you get up from your spot. “I’m gonna get us some drinks. Punch only, of course.”

Jake’s eyes are on you as you walk away, his face tinted pink from the adrenaline of it all, his heart racing.

Jake thinks back to three days ago, when he told himself that this idea of yours was going to be all fine. After all, it was only going to be for one week. Afterwards, he can move on with his life as if nothing happened.

But fast forward 72 hours later, 72 hours after you and Jake started this act, 72 hours after Jake told himself it’ll be all fine, Jake knows he was poorly mistaken.

Because 72 hours later, in the middle of a party that reeked of the combined smell of alcohol and sweat, Jake knows one thing and one thing for sure.

He never wants to move on from the feeling of being with you. He never wants to move on from this.

From you.

He’s screwed.

Saturday, December 12th

When Jake wakes up, much later than he intended to, on Saturday morning, the first sensation he feels are his tingling lips, still in disbelief that they graced your own last night.

The second sensation being his pounding mind––it’s running through ten million thoughts at a time, telling him no last night wasn’t a dream.

Third: his heart beating so fast at the thought of you, he thinks he might beat out of his chest.

And fourth, a buzzing noise.

Jake blindly flounders his arm to the table beside him in hopes of finding the origin of the annoying sound, aka, his phone.

After knocking down multiple miscellaneous items on his nightstand (he makes a mental note to clean his room later), he successfully retrieves the item of search.

Jake squints at the bright screen, mind still cloudy from a mix of 1) being half-asleep, and 2) still processing what happened the night before.

y/n [11:10AM]: r u awake yet?

y/n [11:22AM]: imma take that as a no

y/n [11:35AM]: lemme know when ur up

jake [11:44AM]: just woke up sorry

jake [11:44AM]: are you okay? what’s up

y/n [11:45AM]: r u busy?

y/n [11:45AM]: kinda wanted to talk abt smth

jake [11:45AM]: uh well no im still in bed lmao

y/n [11:46AM]: cool im outside your door

Jake’s eyes widen as he processes your last few texts.

Talk? Outside his door?

Jake’s heart is nervously pounding as jumps out of bed and quickly puts on the first plaid flannel he finds. He scrambles to his mirror and gives his reflection a quick run-down.

He’s sporting your his favorite hoodie underneath the flannel that’s long overdue a wash and his tousled hair has seen better days, but he couldn't care less.

Before his mind can catch up to his actions, he’s rushing down the stairs, skipping two at a time and to this front door. Because he didn’t want to keep you waiting? Because he was too excited to see you? Maybe a mix of both. Definitely more of the latter, however.

He quickly runs a hand through his hair to try to fix it up as much as he can, to no avail, before opening the door to reveal you, sitting on the steps of his front porch.

“y/n,” he’s breathing heavily as you turn to greet him with your sweet smile he didn’t even realize he was missing. Is it possible to miss someone overnight? Jake concludes yes, it definitely is.

“Did you run down here or something?,” you question his out-of-breath state, a teasing tone laces the tip of your tongue.

“Or something,” Jake mutters as he closes the front door behind him to join you on the steps when you make no sign of moving. “Have you been out here all morning?”

“Not allll morning. I had a feeling you’d sleep in so I came around the time I first texted you. Would’ve knocked but didn’t wanna bother your family,” you hum, keeping your eyes trained on the peaceful scenery around you.

You’ve always loved Jake’s neighborhood, it brought you a sense of peace, a sense of home.

Or was that because it reminded you of Jake?

“You could never be a bother,” he quickly rebuttals as he takes his seat next to you on the steps.

You respond with a soft smile before turning your attention back to anything other than the boy next to you. Your mind seems to be lost in its own thoughts, Jake can tell by the distant look in your eyes.

The sound of birds chirping in the distance fills the silence that falls between the two of you.

Any other day, Jake would love this. He savors every second he’s with you, even if it’s just pure silence.

But this silence was different. It wasn’t the usual comforting, warm silence that the two of you share on a typical day. This one held tension, tension so thick that Jake doesn’t know where to begin thinking.

But here’s the thing. Jake doesn’t think.

Not when it comes to you.

He takes a deep breath. Rubs his hands together. Pats them on his lap. Turns towards you.

“Look, I-”

“I think I might like you.” The words come out of your mouth so fast, Jake’s positive he heard you wrong the first time around.

He whips his head to meet your eyes, your own already staring back at him, your bottom lip nervously tucked under your teeth.

“No, I––I do. I know I do. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you and I don’t think I’m doing a very good job right now,” the words are all of the sudden tumbling out of your mouth as if your brain flipped a switch and isn’t able to turn it off. “In hindsight, I should’ve known better to fake date my own best friend. But these past few days made me realize how much I love being with you. And not like how I’m always with you 24/7 before this entire thing started, but being with you. I even started getting that weird, bubbly feeling in my stomach every time I so much as heard your name. And then last night at the party, I realized afterwards that I wouldn’t have kissed you if some part of me didn’t see you in that way. Even if it meant Jay would’ve been on our asses all night if I didn’t. So yeah.”

You finish with a deep breath and look up at him to meet his widened eyes. Silence.

Jake thought he was braindead during last week’s history quiz. Jake thought he was braindead when he had to cram a semester’s worth of chemistry content the night before his exam. Heck, Jake thought he was braindead when you first told him about your idea of a fake dating him. But no, this is braindead.

He’s finally hearing what he’s been dreaming of for so long, and of all times, now his brain decides to shut off.

“Are you..uh..are you gonna say anything?” You’re nervously fumbling with your hands, desperate to distract yourself with anything else apart from his silent stare.

"Why are you sorry?" Jake says before his mind can think of anything else. He doesn't pay attention to his thumping heart that's one look-from-you away from exploding right then and there. "You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, you took the words right out of my mouth.”

Now you're staring at him with the wide eyes, the words processing in your mind.

Jake realizes he's waited too long to do this. A few years too long. He also realizes he shouldn't have put on that extra layer of a flannel. The nervous tension created by the two of you was suffocating enough, and being outside under the bright sun didn’t help.

"I like you too. God y/n, I like you too so much," Jake doesn't even care if his words are all sorts of messed up right now. He just needs you to get the idea. "I have for a while now.”

You let out a relieved sigh, ecstasy rushing through your blood. “Really? I think I have for a while too. I’m so stupid, it took me so long to realize it. It didn’t hit me until I realized how I felt around you, compared to the guy I’m supposed to actually have a crush on.”

Jake lets out a laugh, the tension immediately dissolving. “Hey, if it wasn’t for Sunghoon, I don’t think we’d be here right now.”

“You’re right, I’m too oblivious and you’re too awkward to actually make a move,” you wink at him. If his heart wasn’t fluttering at the sight of you, on his porch on a Saturday morning, confessing your feelings to him, Jake probably would’ve lightly shoved you away.

Instead, he’s turning to you with the most endeared look on his face, and you’re blushing underneath his gaze.

“What? Stare much?” You giggle, quoting the boy himself as you shyly duck your head to avoid his stare.

Jake gently grabs your chin to tilt your face towards his, and before you can process what’s happening, he suddenly meets your lips with his own, closing the gap between you two.

Jake thinks if the ground underneath him right now decided to open up and swallow him whole, he’d die happily.

Jake smiles against you, feeling comfort in ways he’ll never be able to achieve without you.

Your hands instinctively find their way into his hair, as one of his rests below your ear, thumb softly caressing your cheek, the other pulling you in by the waist. He’s naturally leaning into you, gravitating towards your warmth, unable to stop the giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach.

He doesn’t think the feeling will ever go away.

When you pull away to catch your breath, you rest your head against the nook of his neck, basking in his presence as his arms both find their way around your waist. You sigh in pleasure.

“Remember at the beginning of all of this, when you told me ‘Just try not to fall in love with me?’” Jake gently says. Jake feels the slight nod you give against his shoulder as you hum in response.

Jake whispers two more words into your ear, filling you with happiness and warmth you know you won’t be able to find through anyone––or anything––else.

“Too late.”

✰ if you made it ‘til the end, ily :’)))))

2K notes · View notes