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thebooki3h · 4 years ago

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Lukadamianette Au Part 2

First Here Next

We begin where we left off, with Luka and Marinette on one of the dates Luka Planned. Just because it makes sense in this, Luka and Mari arrive a week early

Because Mari is emancipated and excused herself for the first week of school before the trip during which the class is still in France bc they just ended summer and all that jazz. also I have decided that the trip has turned into a half semester exchange program even though this doesn’t make the most sense, but the French school thought the class could use a reward and tbh they just wanted to get the Akuma class out for awhile. Also this way they aren’t in Gotham for a whole semester of senior year. The trip is planned for the first half of the first semester of senior year. I know that this doesn't make a whole lot of sense but just stick with me.

They go sight seeing and basically on a week long date bc the following week begins the Wayne sponsored exchange program and when Luka has to work for Jagged. One day they go to museums, the next the go to famous parks around Gotham (which are thriving thanks to Poison Ivy), the next they see all of the famous villain spots (which are surprisingly popular tourist destinations bc for the most part they don’t get hit twice in short periods of time) which is a good cover for studying past bat battles. They take days in between to rest and use the inspiration they gained to make new songs or clothing designs.

They share hotel room bc Mari’s parents stopped being her parents a long time ago and lost their say and bc Jagged says they are grown up enough to be responsible for their actions (which brings a blush to their cheeks every time bc “daaaaaddddd” “uncle jaggeeedddd”)

Mari also makes it her mission to visit all of the non chain coffee shops at least once while they are there bc coffee became her best friend when she was active as ladybug. She meets Tim in almost everyone because Tim also drinks coffee obsessively. Luka is more of a tea drinker because coffee interrupts his musical thought process and tea is less harsh. Marinette drinks tea when she wants to relax but coffee is the fuel of the gods. She expresses this to Tim and that's how they become acquainted bc finally someone understands his love for coffee. They exchange numbers after they run into each other for a fourth time. (Luka silently thinks that he might have to talk to Mari about her obsession of coffee again and if there is a rehab center for coffee drinkers) Tim learns that Mari is from the exchange class very quickly based off of Luka’s French accent as well as her light French accent that is mixed with a couple things he can’t quite place.

The class arrives, Lila ofc tried to pull something to leave Mari behind and she thought she was successful so she was gloating. She ofc took credit for the whole trip claiming that she was super close to the Waynes and that she helped Damian acclimate to his new school (she actually knows that Damian didn’t start living with his father until 10 bc why not). Mrs Bustier tries to check in under both her name and Lila’s name, both of which don’t work because they are A) an hour and a half early and B) all of the reservations are under the contest winners name (they have to ok their chaperones to use their name) C)Mrs Bustier told Mari to make all of the reservations under Mari’s name anyway and she totally forgot that.

So the sit in the lobby for an hour, Lila has the whole class riled up bc Marinette isn't there and it is al her fault that they can’t get in to their rooms. Marinette shows up with Luka 15 mins before the class was supposed to show up (they had just gotten lunch at a cafe that jagged had recommended) and she is laughing and happy, which causes the class to BLOW UP in her face. She ignores them and checks everyone into their rooms. Kagami and Chloe share a suite bc they are rich in their own right and upgraded their shared room bc they are dating and signed up to be roommates. They got this okayed by Buister in writing JIC. Marinette as the contest winner also got a suite (the room she had been staying in with Luka that she just extended the booking for)

Lila and Alya obviously make a big fuss about them getting special treatment but bustier can’t do anything because Mari won’t let her. She secretly thinks Mari is a lost cause now but she tries her best to get her to see that she has to be a role model. Mari actually planned the whole trip and she did a fucking fantastic job bc its Mari and planning something is what she is great at. She has all of the bases covered including iternerary, bookings for food, emergency contact info, health info, info on Gotham, safety procedures and the whole shebang. All of which had to be approved by Bustier and that Bustier has copies of but totally ignored.

The next day they try to pull the let’s leave an hour early to leave behind Marinette stunt. Not only does that fail because the tour can’t start until the contest winner is there, but they arrived before Wayne tower was even open to the public. Because jagged is extra he shipped Luka and Marinette motorcycles to Gotham bc they were going to be there for a couple months, they also got special permission from Wayne enterprises to park their bikes in the employee parking structures from Tim once he heard that they rode bikes as expensive as Jason’s. So she left early from the hotel with Luka(bc she knew that Bustier would leave her behind somehow) to go meet up with Tim at a new coffee place (one of his favorites). They end up riding on their respective bikes to WE together so they can hang out before the tour. Luka goes to a recording studio to meet up with Jagged, but not before a very passionate kiss goodbye, which makes Tim blush. (Tim may not seem like the biker type but he is a bat and he lives with Jason so he not only knows how to ride a motorcycle well has one, so it may not be his favorite mode of transportation but he’ll live)

So he and Marinette walk to WE about a half an hour before the class is supposed to be there in the middle of a debate on how best to brew coffee (Mari insists its French press) and low and behold they are there yelling at the receptionist. Mari gives Tim a look that says I’m so sorry you have to see this and yes I was not exaggerating walks up to the receptionist and apologizes for what she is about to do (not for the classes actions bc fuck them they can apologize for themselves she has learned to not take responsibility for others actions and she won’t let all that work go to waste). She then proceeds to yell, much louder than someone of her stature presumably should “SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I STG I WILL BREAK JOKER OUT OF ARKHAM AND LOCK HIM IN A ROOM WITH ALL OF YOU WITHOUT FLINCHING” this is shocking to everyone, especially mrs bustier who is scandalized that her role model student would do something like this.

Tim had a feeling that something video worthy would happen so as soon as she walked away he started recording, and he was NOT disappointed. The video gos straight to the batfam gc and Luka immediately. He powered off his phone then he proceeds to start laughing and applauding. Upon seeing the CEO’s reaction the rest of the employees start applauding as well bc damn those kids were rude. Tim then walks up to Mari talking at a speed no one but Mari, Chloe and Kagami could understand (bc the class is not fluent in English no matter what they would tell you). Mari proceeds to blush once he informs her that he sent a video to Luka (he does not tell her about the batfam gc)

Chloe and Kagami are immediate intrigued bc this is NOT what they picture when Mari said she met someone who loves coffee as much as she does. they may be hella gay for each other but damn that man is ripped. They join the convo while the class remains befuddled bc who knew Mari even swore. in the back of his mind Nino is reminded of a young blue-eyed girl who lost playground privileges for a week bc someone made fun of his glasses and proceed to punch said someone in the nose. But he shakes it of because Mari hasn’t been like that in years.

Bustier eventually collects herself and gently, so as not to cause an Akuma (apparently she didn't get the memo), reminds Mari that they are here for a tour and she needs to get the class their passes. So Mari leaves her friends to get acquainted and goes up to the receptionist, to whom she apologizes for her actions again, and the receptionist replies with a laugh and a “honey, you just made my week, there's no need to apologize I should be thanking you” (she does thank Mari). Mari gets a special pass bc she’s the contest winner to which Lila and Alya (then the rest of the class for the most part) proceed to throw a hissy fit over. The receptionist is so over them though and doesn’t even blink.

Then their tour guide shows up. (its Dick and his assistant Damian). Damian proceeds to scold the class for a solid ten mins (which coincidentally leads up to their scheduled time to start the tour). Dick slides off to talk to the receptionist and his brother who isn't working and is talking to real people for once. Just for that they are his favorite out of the class. Tim unfortunately has to go to work so they talk to Dick to get acquainted until the tour has to officially start.

Los tres amigos are the only ones who pay attention to Dick at all (he leads the tour bc he’s been there the longest but Damian throws in a comment here or there mostly related to shenanigans his family has gotten into but overall useful facts. for example these windows are reinforced because our CEO (Tim) leaned up against one, fell asleep and fell through the window to the office below.)

The rest of the class is focused on Lila who is talking a whole bunch of nonsense about the Wayne family and how she has helped them with their business. Some things actually sound kinda legit, but Mari and Co. know that it is BS. Dick tries to bet bustier involved but she makes an excuse for Lila and goes on her phone and doesn’t really pay attention.

Eventually the class tour turns into Dick talking to Mari, Chloe and Kagami while the class vaguely follows them. Damian doesn’t really say anything because he generally doesn’t do well talking to strangers and these girls seem ok and he is still insecure (not that he would ever admit it to anyone ) about social interaction now that he has figured out how people who weren’t raised as assassins act. That is until Dick starts talking about shenanigans that his brothers get into, and Damian jumps in correcting him because I did not try to tackle Todd, Grayson I did tackle Todd quite successful and also Alfred won’t let you into the kitchen anymore because you almost burned down the east wing of the manor not because he is territorial over the kitchen. And Mari hadn’t really paid attention to Damian until now but OH MY KAWAMI he is hot, and how did she talk so long to notice that.

She ends up taking a pic of Damian without him noticing (he really doesn’t notice which is a feat in itself but Dick does and he will be teasing Damian about it later bc obviously) and she texts it to Luka bc if she is going to freak out over his hotness she wants Luka to do so too. ( he sees the pic in the middle of recording and he ends up needing a water break bc gay panic and he really is extremely handsome. Recording gets delayed even longer bc jagged cannot pass up the opportunity to tease him son and he does so mercilessly and Mari totally knew what she was doing when she sent that picture) Luka ends up demanding that she gets Damians number or he will because that man is fine.

Mari now knows that the stuttering idolization that she had with Adrien wasn’t really healthy and Luka likes to remind her all the time that she can be smooth when she wants to be (sometimes unintentionally but she practices on Luka because she loves to see him blush). Mari then makes it her mission to compliment Damian as much as possible so that it is crystal clear and very obvious that she is flirting with him. If he even shows a little discomfort in a negative I don’t like this kind of way she will stop because she will not make someone go through what she went through with Chat Noir and unwanted advances.

Chloe, Kagami and Dick immediately notice that she is flirting with Damian. Chloe takes a video for Luka bc she knows that he would want to see this and Dick takes a video for the Batfam gc.

Just to be clear Mari and Luka have talked about seeing other people and maybe adding a third person to their relationship as long as they talk about it. that line of communication was opened when Mari sent a pic of Damian to Luka and when Luka asked for his number that was his “go ahead” for her to flirt with Damian. Lila doesn’t understand how that works and neither do the rest of the class so that is a point of contention between the class and Mari. She would NEVER cheat on Luka, she loves him and he is the most important person to her in the world. Something that Juleka understands (she just doesn’t like Mari bc of Lila she knows how polyamory works this is why her and Luka aren't as close as they used to be)

Moving on... the batfam gc blows up for a second time that day and so when the class goes to the cafeteria Tim just has to see this for himself. Mari tries not to be obnoxious in her flirting so she compliments Damians intelligence by asking him questions that weren't included in the tour, and she asks him about his interests and is like that must have taken a lot of time to perfect you must be very dedicated. Damian isn’t used to genuine compliments especially from strangers so he is very flustered by it but he makes no indication for her to stop.

The day winds down and the class has some free time before they have to go to dinner but the do have to leave the tower. Mari does actually get Damians number (he thinks she must be very well trained to get his number that quick bc he refuses to accept that he gave it to her because he likes her) Mari promises to ft him later bc he promised to let her meet his dog and she doesn’t want to wait until the class has dinner at the manor to see Titus.

First Here Next

Taglist

@dood-space

@toodaloo-kangaroo

Also I’m not very sure about how to go back and edit posts to link new parts so if anyone knows how to do that please comment or message me because I would love to learn!

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ruhrohimrorny · 4 years ago

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What Subjects I Think LOK Characters Would Teach:

Lin: PE, obviously. Dating Kya and all the kids are happy cause there’s a noticeable shift in Lin’s mood once they start dating. She no longer forces kids to run a mile every day and instead does it once a week now, so the kids are hoping her and Kya stay together. She also coaches Golf and Lacrosse.

Kya: Waffled between MILF Math teacher, MILF Science teacher, and hippy/chill Music teacher, but decided on MILF Science Teacher. Getting strong Biology vibes. Very fun labs and not strict at all. Her and Zhu-Li are super passionate about leading the Science Bowl team. Seeing these young people be so passionate about STEM and helping their fellow teammates makes her hopeful for this young generation.

Tenzin: He kinda gives math teacher vibes, but a large part of his character in the show is about him keeping his history alive, and teaching others abut learning and respecting history, so I feel like he’s a History teacher. His class is a lot of notetaking but he plays quiet music and does a five minute meditation in the middle of class to encourage kids to relax, so students really like him and actually listen to him. Also, he’s kind of gullible so they make up fake trends to tell him. He once spent a week addressing people as “brony” cause students told him thats what people say now instead of bro. Kids got a good laugh out of that one. Him and Pema are another favorite teacher couple.

Bumi II: Def gives off eccentric/unhinged English teacher vibes. Very interesting and informative conversations in his class, but things get off topic very quickly. Whenever kids ask about Bum-Ju, he gets distracted and will talk the entire rest of the period about what to dress Bum-Ju up as for Halloween. Probably plays a lot of videos. And students don’t worry about if they read the books Bumi II assigns cause they don’t think he’s even read the books he assigns. When having discussions about the books in class, sometimes kids will make up stuff and say it’s in the book and for the most part, Bumi II goes along with it cause he doesn’t know what actually happens in the books.

Varrick: Also gives off eccentric/unhinged English teacher vibes, but because he’s a businessman/war profiteer, I’m gonna have to say he teaches Econ and gives students lots of unsolicited financial advice. Also supervises the Engineering and Robotics Club.

Zhu-Li: Science teacher, probably Chemistry. She’s very good at explaining and getting kids to follow her instructions. Not only is she a co-supervisor for the Science Bowl team, she helps Varrick run Engineering and Robotics Club, cause if it were only Varrick running it, no kids would come. His intensity and eccentricity scares them.

Iroh II: He’s definitely the young Math teacher everyone has a crush on. Very chill and doesn’t give a lot of homework. Kids love when he shows pictures of his dog to the class and eventually he brings in the dog cause admin think the dog is too cute to say no to.

Tonraq: Resident DILF History teacher. Kind of a hardass but also a nice dude so most everyone passes his class. Probably that History teacher that is also a football coach, so during fall he doesn’t give a FUCK about whether anyone actually turns anything in. Him and Senna is the teacher couple that seems like opposites but actually are pretty similar and balance each other out.

Senna: That English teacher that every mentally ill student becomes emotionally attached to. You know what I’m talking about. She’s so sweet, funny, and chill so all the kids love her class. Tries to include memes in her presentations to seem “with it” but they’re like, doge memes from 2014. But the kids appreciate the effort.

Pema: Definitely the sweet English teacher that occasionally has a mental breakdown when the students test her patience. Otherwise very chill. Also teaches the Childhood Education and Development class. Her, Senna, and Bumi II run the school newspaper.

Bataar: Drafting. Pretty chill, very skilled, and def smokes on the weekend. Also, him and Suyin are that teacher couple that everyone likes.

Suyin: Dance. Super nice and always has like to of those smelly plug in things going so her room smells good and has a “good vibe that evokes emotion”. Always plays EDM or weird 80s rock to get the kids moving. She runs the school dance team. When Bataar has prep period, he sometimes drops in to see Su dance, cause she’s mesmerizing to watch. All the kids think that, coupled with the fact that they eat lunch together every day, makes them the cutest couple ever.

Amon: Drama. He loves directing kids on how to totally live a role. If you can imagine, he sometimes gets a little overdramatic about drama, forgetting that these are just highschool kids, not Oscar winners, but his passion makes the class more enjoyable. Runs Drama Club with Tarrlok.

Tarrlok: Probably Physics. A difficult class, but he’s pretty good at explaining so most kids don’t struggle too much. His main focus is running student government, which he takes pretty seriously. Sometimes too seriously.

Unalaq: Teaches Psychology. The most pretentious teacher on campus. It’s literally so bad, that even other teachers avoid him. Amon abandoned his coffee still being brewed in the machine in the staff room cause Unalaq walked in and he didn’t want to be in a room with Unalaq again after he said that Amon’s outfit “looked like something stolen from the lost and found of a funeral home”. Unalaq sees it as “telling it like it is”.

Zaheer: Government and Politics. Tries to teach the class very well but also injects his own opinion into teaching a lot. The students find him scary but some also kinda think he’s hot. Also does Yearbook. Him and Senna run Mock Trial. Replaced the old Government and Politics teacher Hou-Ting after she retired. She was that one old teacher that made it a hobby to harrass students and constantly reminisced about when you could smack students.

P’Li: Math teacher. Much scarier than Zaheer. Plays her trash ass music very loudly while the kids work. Def yells at kids. She’s kind of funny when she’s in a good mood tho, and when she roasts kids it’s really funny cause it’s usually dead on. Her and Zaheer are those teachers that flirt a lot and you know they’re sleeping together.

Ming-Hua: Art. Loves drawing and, you guessed it, watercolor painting. Very chill and plays soft music but lets you listen to your own music. Super sarcastic and all the students eat it up. Literally a universal favorite. She runs Art Club and Fashion Club.

Ghazan: Guitar. Pretty cool teacher that definitely has some weird stories. All the students know he has a crush on Ming-Hua cause they flirt constantly, but he denies it. Runs E-Sports Club. Idk why I think that, it just feels right. Him and Ming-Hua are also the kinds of teachers kids become emotionally attached to.

Kuvira: Government and Politics also. Seems calm and reasonable, but is a total ass. Makes kids give up their phones, allows almost no talking, gives out more detentions a week than most teachers do in one year, and doesn’t allow for much discussion. Everyone wants her class cause she’s hot but most drop within the first week, to the point that counselors have to say no to some kids so they don’t have to get rid of the class altogether.

Bataar Jr.: Computer Lit teacher. None of the students respect him so they’ll play Minecraft the whole time or play inappropriate videos really loud. Doesn’t really put much effort into teaching, which for some kids is a dream, but for others is an annoyance. Him and Kuvira are the teacher couple that makes everyone say “wtf”. Literally no one knows why they’re together.

Izumi: Secretary/Attendance. Pretty much remembers everything and is super organized. She is the glue that holds the school together. Most students don’t know her name though cause she’s super quiet and works mostly behind the scenes. Whenever Zuko sends anyone her way though he reminds them of her name and to say thank you cause he recognizes how hard his daughter works to keep everything running smoothly. Izumi catches on to this and always manages to thank her dad with a nice tea and a hug.

Toph: Vice Principal. Scary as fuck. Doesn’t ever call kids’ parents cause she efficiently scares the shit out of every kid, so they never do whatever bad thing they were doing again. When she has to work dances, Katara always tries to get her to dance with her. She resists every time, but she always gives eventually. She’s happy to though, cause although she’ll never say it out loud, seeing Katara this happy at her old age warms her heart.

Katara: Health Clerk. Very sweet and everybody loves her. Sometimes kids pretend to feel sick just to talk to her. She doesn’t mind though cause a kid that has a tummy ache and a kid that needs to talk are both kids that need help, and she’s happy to offer whatever support she can. She also always offers to supervise dances when the school has them and always manages to bust a move.

Zuko: Counselor. Wants to be to students what his uncle was to him. Aang and Sokka were counselors too, some years ago. And while they could give some good nuggets of advice and offered the kids amazing support, they also would totally fuck up student’s schedules by accident cause those numbskulls were exactly that- numbskulls. So usually Zuko would have to fix that. He misses fixing their messes and, more importantly, he misses them (they aren’t dead, just retired). He hopes to retire soon too, cause he’s getting too old for this, but he secretly doesn’t want to retire just yet cause working at school allows him to see and spend time with Izumi. Since they’re both working, it’s not like they have too much time together, but even just her popping into his office to bring him tea or check in on how he’s doing that day brings a smile to his face that doesn’t leave for the rest of the day.

Raiko: Principal. After Toph stepped down cause she’s “too old for this shit” (her words), Raiko stepped in. The students aren’t a fan of him but he’s not terrible. And since Toph is still Vice Principal, she keeps him in check.

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tired-enjolras · 4 years ago

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Capable of Being Terrible. Enjolras/Grantaire.

Read on AO3

NEXT CHAPTER HERE

Warnings: alcoholism, smoking, addiction/recovery arc.

Genre: Angst-Hurt/Comfort.

Words: 1297.

Summary: It’s a hard semester for everyone, Combeferre and Joly are working an internship, Éponine works two jobs and somehow gets it all done, and Grantaire drinks himself an inch from incoherent every night. Enjolras doesn’t have it worse than anyone - better than most, actually. But this year keeps knocking Enjolras down and, for the first time, cannot figure how to get back up again.

CHAPTER ONE.

It was Friday night. Every other student in the city was off doing something fun and frivolous. Enjolras was not. He was not one for fun until work was complete. The blonde man could laugh louder and harder than all of his friends and co-workers combined, but he’d simply have to party on Saturday instead. He was only days out from the start of exams week. Desires could wait. His computer was open on the bed, resting on a red pillowcase and gray sheets. It was playing a documentary film about the Paris Climate Accords that was required for a biology class - his lowest grade this semester was this class. He cared about science and certainly about climate change, but he was just fundamentally bad at the subject. There were others who could handle it. Enjolras could be the change in other areas.

Enjolras did not focus on the monitor, but instead his hand scrawled ferociously in a yellow spiral-bound notebook. One could hardly blame him for his excitement. Not only had he prepared a new pamphlet for his student political organization - which he would need to remember to copy at the library the next day - but he had discovered this American politician called Harvey Milk. He was working on final stage research and outlining for a research project on him for his World LGBT Advocacy class. That remained one of about two classes that were worth him expending a fuck on during this particular semester.

The number of credits he had chosen was much too high. 7 classes (one having a lab) was an irrational choice. It was Enjolras’ first year funding half of his own housing off-campus. He worked a real job. As real as scanning books and accepting payment could be. This, really, was the first year Enjolras had learned that everyone was correct in telling him that he was incapable of doing everything he assumed he could.

He did not live alone, but it felt like he did. The other half of the rent was supposed to be paid by Combeferre, who had been gracious and helpful and always so willing to do his part. Until he wasn’t and moved out. Combeferre had moved in with a very tall and very stupid man that Enjolras sincerely enjoyed named Courfeyrac. The two men cared terribly for each other, so Enjolras was happy to see them be able to make a sort of home together. Combeferre’s replacement was not gracious or helpful and almost never willing to do his part. René Grantaire had crashed into the apartment like a car fire. Enjolras was decently sure he would not enjoy his time with Grantaire whatsoever; that they would be professional and nothing more to each other. That never happened. Initially, he was very pleased that Grantaire never imposed an organizational system for Enjolras because everything he had sat in stacks, falling off of shelves and spread across each open surface. Grantaire picked up on this philosophy and effortless operated within it. For a while, they seemed to make perfect sense to each other.

In mornings, Grantaire would get coffee brewing, immediately being able to remember how Enjolras took it. In exchange, Enjolras would sit in destroyed stack of leaflet rough drafts and crack an egg and a shot of hot sauce into a glass for Grantaire. They moved in perfect sync like Aristophanes four-limbed love people. Before too long, they stopped being roommates and started being bedmates. Their relationship lacked definition, but both miraculously kept their affections exclusive and they liked this way.

Then Grantaire’s drinking, once consisting of some wine, a few beers and maybe one or two of something a little stiffer over the course of an entire week turned into several bottles of wine, a case of beer and empty liquor bottles collecting in the trashbagless bin in front of the kitchen sink. So Enjolras tried to take some actions.

The bedroom door swung open.

“Good evening, mon Ange,” Grantaire often called him this. My Angel. Grantaire thought was funny because he may as well have been saying Mon Enj. My Enjolras. “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy...”

Grantaire stood, leading against the doorframe. Whether for physical support or confident swagger was still unclear. He looked bad. Enjolras felt sick to his stomach to consider saying that about this person he cared for, Grantaire could never really look bad to him, but he was glassy eyed and sallow. Grantaire pushed himself off of the door, and walked to the side of the bed, crouching to his knees to throw an arm around Enjolras flat to the bed body.

“You smell like alcohol.” Enjolras stared plainly.

Grantaire scoffed. “Good nose you’ve got there,” he reached out and gently flicked Enjolras across the nose. “I was, in fact, drinking.”

Enjolras sighed, refusing to look over at his... whatever they were. If he looked at him now, he would get emotional. Hysterical or angry, it wasn’t yet clear which. “We talked about this.”

“I know, but look at me—“

“Hey, how much did you drink?”

“Oh, am I being cross-examined now?”

Enjolras sat up on his knees in bed, Grantaire’s arm sliding away. He was looking at the darker haired man now. His blue-green eyes burned. “No, but I can call a witness, if you’d like...” he extended his fingers to the other side of the bed for his phone. Marius would know. Éponine perhaps was there. Bahoral, or Courf, maybe. Wouldn’t take too many calls to figure it out.

“Lord God Almighty, Enj... Fine. A lot. Lost count after a couple rounds. But it’s Friday. I’m...” Grantaire cleared his throat, trying to sober his voice up some. “I’m not working tomorrow. Big deal. Don’t you ever get tired of talking about ol’ me?”

“Friday’s fantastic, but what about every other day that isn’t Friday?”

“It’s social. I’m social.”

“Grantaire.”

Fuck. “Mhmm?”

Enjolras’ jaw was tight. He was not going to yell. It was after midnight and the neighbors would call their pig of a landlord again. “Couch tonight.”

“It’s Friday!”

“René,” Enjolras had said this in the voice that mothers use when their child doesn’t understand why they can’t keep sticking their hand in the cookie jar. It was not mean, it was firm. Final. Grantaire sat up a little straighter. “Couch. Please. I love you to pieces, but this is getting fucking ridiculous. Sleep it off.”

Slowly, Grantaire raised himself to his full height. “You win. You always win. Happy?” He braced an arm on the bed and leaned down to plant a kiss on the top of Enjoras’ curls. The brunette swiped a discarded blanket off of this ugly leopard print chair that sat in the corner. Grantaire walked through the door, not bothering with a change of clothes for bed and shut it quietly behind him.

Enjolras was far from happy. It had been so truly okay and it’s not anymore. Everything was too much. Homework, organizing that protest, holding the pieces together for Grantaire when there’s clearly more going on than what he wants to share. Grantaire was Enjolras’ most important person and he was going to watch him finish his degree if it killed them both. Dear Reader, do not think for a second that Enjolras believed Grantaire was some kind of burden. He wasn’t. Enjolras loved him too much to ever consider him to be one, he just was unsure of how best to be supportive. No one ever supported Grantaire so Enjolras would simply have to be that person. There were too many things to care about in Enjolras’ life, too many problems. But that had historically been where he thrived. And Enjolras would find the time to fix them all. He always did.

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quixotic-writer · 4 years ago

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Does it Scare You At All?

Song inspo: Ribs — Lorde

Both Bailey and Q have held their tongues for years about their repressed feelings for the other for fear of losing the other’s close friendship they’ve built up since freshman year of high-school. But during a college party and a couple of drinks, emotions fall out unfiltered.

———————————————————

The music was so loud they could barely hear their own thoughts running through their minds. They danced without a care in the world, bathing in the colorful lights of a cheap disco ball thanks to the help of some alcohol inside the red solo cups that are held with care. The bounce and twirl laughing as they try their best not to spill anything on the carpet. There was a noticeable spark between them that no one could deny but themselves.

“I’ve known her since high school, we’re just best friends. We’ll never be anything more.” Was the answer Q always had retorted with whenever his band of friends decided it’d be funny to tease him about it. The interrogation about his feelings for Bailey was growing old. While he won’t deny the small level of feelings that he had brewing since meeting her in the high school improv club, he held back and pushed it all down because he felt as though it was a threshold he wasn’t allowed to cross. He always saw her and thought she deserved someone better than him. He tried dating others, but every girl he had dated, it didn’t feel genuine and things wouldn’t last very long. He knew deep down he wanted Bailey, but he didn’t want to destroy the bond he had built with her already.

On the other end of things: Bailey just could never bring herself to say anything. She never once denied the feelings, only her ability to speak them out. Every time she seemed close and comfortable to finally being open, she seemed to find his hands intertwined with another girl. She also knew him well enough to know the patterns of his relationships, she’s been there for each one of his break ups. Every time he said the same thing: it didn’t feel like love. She feared falling victim to the phrase she so often heard, so she never said anything and showed no signs of anything more being hidden underneath. The statement perplexed her and made it feel as though she didn’t know him as well as she thought she did. She bit her tongue, showing him support through everything as she turned down the volume of all of her roaring thoughts and rampant emotions.

They danced through their denial, standing at the edge of the fine line they silently wished to cross like a high-wire. Bailey looks at Q, his lips are moving but she doesn’t hear a thing coming out of them. The only thing she could hear is the intrusive thought in her head that was heightened because of the alcohol in her system saying “kiss him.”

“I’m gonna grab another cup of punch, do you want me to grab you some?” Q raises his voice a little louder over the booming music making Bailey snap back down to earth after being off in the space of her subconsciousness.

“I’ve had more than enough to drink tonight, thanks though, Quinn!” She smiles to him. He shrugs his shoulders and disappears into the sea of sweaty, loud college students. She continues swaying to the music all by herself and her mind begins racing again.

As she begins to reflect on how the night is going, she starts realizing she knows absolutely no one at this party. The only reason she came out to the party was because of Q. She knew he had a tendency to do stupid shit when he had too much to drink, so she came to make sure he didn’t do anything he would regret. She looks over to the drinks table to spot him out and sees him talking to that conventionally pretty red head girl he talked about sometimes that was in his english 100 class. A twinge of anger fills Bailey for a moment until it subsides to just an aching heart.

“Why don’t you just tell him!” Joe sporadically asked Bailey the million dollar question mere days ago as you both sat in the campus coffee shop. All she could do was cover her face in shame. “What’s holding you back? You tell him literally everything else and you guys talk and hang out like you’re already dating.” He had a point. Bailey plays around with her empty coffee cup, rolling it between the palms of her hands searching for the right string of words to convey properly what’s on her mind.

“I just don’t want that dynamic we have to go away, what if he doesn’t feel the same and something goes wrong?” She dreaded the idea of Q being weirded out by her emotions, what if he started closing her off and eventually just stopped being her friend?

“And what if it goes right? You don’t know until you shoot your shot, the worst answer you can get is he doesn’t want to date you. Besides if he drops you as a friend, he’s an idiot. Point blank. He’s an idiot already, but that will be a new level of stupid for Q.” That was very straight forward, but Bailey had never thought about things working out. Things had so often gone awry that she was so quick to jump to negativity and never took a moment to imagine the good that could come out of a scenario. “Besides why should unshared romantic feelings change your platonic feelings? You obviously care and look out for each other.” Joe sits back and takes a well deserved bite of a cannoli.

“Joe, when did you become so insightful?” She says shaking her head and chuckling.

“Must be the coffee and cannolis kicking in.” they both let out giggles and the thoughts continued to loom around Bailey’s head.

She looks at Q and sees how engrossed he is in the conversation, the way he’s looking at her and vice versa made her almost sick. Maybe tonight just wasn’t her night, maybe she’s had too much to drink, maybe just both. She took a deep breath and decided that her night was over. Suddenly, blue lights shine through the window of the house illuminating the room making everyone’s head turn.

“THE PIGS ARE HERE! SCATTER!” Some kid yelled to the swarm of people of which 75% of them are underage drinking, including Bailey and Q. Panic sunk into her veins and Bailey felt herself freeze, watching with wide eyes as everyone clamors and runs to flee the scene. She felt a hand grab her arm amidst the chaos and starts dragging her out the front door, her feet tried carrying her as fast as she could to keep up with whoever saved her from her catatonic state. Amidst the blue lights she looked next to her to see Q was the one that had grabbed her and she felt her heart flutter as he looked back to her.

“You froze like a deer in the headlights! You scared me for a second.” Q says loudly as they continue running down the street. Soon enough, they felt as though they made a safe enough distance where they could slow their pace and start walking again to catch their breath. “Y’know for a couple’a drunk idiots, we ran pretty fast and didn’t fall ONCE!” Q cackles out loud and Bailey snickers and snorts at the comment and she realized exactly how buzzed she’s really feeling. Bailey was a giggly get-real-about-your-feelings type of drunk, Q was a sloppy drunk but thankfully hadn’t had too much to drink tonight or at least not enough to make him act stupid.

“I really am drunk aren’t I?” She starts laughing even harder and Q can’t help but follow in suit because she can’t stop snorting. She hated when she snorted but Q couldn’t get enough of it, it was always his daily mission to get her to laugh so hard she snorted just so he could her it. So whenever they were together, he’d play up his antics and get her to laugh. Nothing made him happier than seeing her happy.

They continue walking through the street lamp lit roads and walked into the community park to sit down and really catch their breaths after their 5 minute track star moment. They sit down on the park bench, looking up at the midnight sky as the stars glistened down through the breaks in the clouds taking in the air that had a cold nip to it that slightly stung the outer part of your nostrils.

“You know I wasn’t even gonna go out tonight.” Bailey admits to the boy sitting next to her.

“Why?”

“Not my scene really. I enjoy fun, I enjoy parties, I enjoy a classic solo cup of cheap beer here and there, but after 5 minutes of talking to strangers I feel socially exhausted. I see you socialize effortlessly, I don’t get how you do it. You’re just so charming and you make it all look so easy. I wish I had your ability to just be a seemingly normal human!” She gushes about him without a second thought or hesitation, all her inhibitions are gone and Bailey becomes completely unfiltered.

“I wasn’t really planning on going tonight either honestly. I only went tonight because Sal told me you were going.” Bailey’s eyebrows furrow together in complete confusion and she sits up straight and her head shoots to Q. He went just because she was? But Sal had told her something different.

“Really? I only came out tonight because Sal told me YOU were going.” Q’s facial expression mirrors hers quickly and slowly everything began to piece together, but neither of them was about to point out the obvious.

“Well... That’s.... Strange? Isn’t it?” Q forces a chuckle and he feels his heart rate rise a little. Sal seriously set him up and he couldn’t believe it. Even though he wasn’t even the same vicinity as him, he could already see that stupid smile he wears when he plots something at the expense of others.

“That dumb son of a bitch.” Bailey busts out laughing and was on the verge of tears, this is just such a Sal move that she couldn’t help but laugh. It destroyed the awkward energy that Q was unintentionally putting out, he looked at her and just saw how care free she was about it and felt himself ease up.

“You don’t know until you shoot your shot” Joe’s voice played like a scratched record over and over in her head in that very moment. Now was her chance to be brave and do what she never thought she could.

“So you really came to a party because of me?” Q could feel his heart beating out of his chest, it felt like it could fall out and run wild at any second. He wasn’t quite ready for an emotional confrontation from his long time crush. If it wasn’t so cool outside, guaranteed he would be sweating as well.

“Y-yeah. I did. I wanted to make sure that you’d be okay.” He twiddles his fingers. Bailey notices the nervous fidgets are persistent, that’s when everything became so clear to her.

“That’s really sweet you know. It’s cute that you care about me.” She smiles and places her hand on his. He looks down at the warm hand resting on his, his heart is beating so loud he can hear it and feel it in his ears. His face feels molten hot and he looks at Bailey who has a cheshire cat smile on.

“I, uh. It’s because you’re my best friend! Of course I do things because I care about you.” He tries to brush it off, but things are just too obvious now.

“Is it really just a best friends thing though, Quinn? Because I know for me it isn’t.” She shifts a little closer to him and they lock eyes for just a moment. Q felt as though time stopped and he felt as though he could see through time. What he saw while looking into her eyes: a future he wanted with Bailey.

“I’ve wanted to say it, but I never could.” Q giggles nervously slowly taking her hand in his and it all just felt like what he’s been aching to find for so long. He chews at his bottom lip but there’s no stopping the momentum of emotions they have going. “I really like you Bailey. I have for a while.” The words finally came out. There they were at 1 in the morning in the cool abandon of the dimly lit community park on a bench sitting beneath the stars that sung from heaven, and it felt like a safe haven from the world. It felt as though they had found their own wrinkle in the universe to hide in and truly unmask their hearts from the masquerade they’ve been living.

They look into each others eyes and slowly begin to lean in closer and closer, heads tilting, eyes closed, the warmth of their faces slowly getting hotter and hotter. The moment their lips finally met, Bailey wanted to fall apart or just let out whatever joyous noise she had trapped inside herself. It felt sweet but it tasted like stale beer, neither of them minded though.

The moment they pulled away, they both began to blush and giggle, they both knew the other had been waiting to finally have that moment, they could just feel it in the air and the way that they kissed each other.

“You know I was worried you had a thing for that red head back at the party.”

“Way to ruin a moment Bail.” Q says letting out a deep chuckle. “I don’t know what else to say... but I do have a question: how long have you felt like this?” Q questions Bailey. She rubs her hands on her pants to rid them of the layer of sweat she built up because of her nerves.

“Since high school junior year prom when your date ditched you and you slow danced with me instead.” That night Bailey had never felt happier and comfortable in someone’s arms. Q’s date had gone to get drunk with some other guy and bailed, Bailey was all alone without a date and he had offered her the final dance of the night. It was cheesy and cliché but that night felt like a fairytale. “And what about you mr. ‘I feel comfortable with telling you all my emotions but won’t tell you that I like you’?” Q rubs his hand across his face in shame at the name.

“Uuuh I don’t really know, the feelings have just been there. It’s been like this since senior year. I never said anything because I was scared to ruin our relationship we have now as friends.” Bailey started laughing hysterically and holding on to Q’s shoulders for support as she bent in half cackling. “What’s so funny?”

“I told Gatto the exact same thing when I was talking to him the coffee shop a few days ago. I told him that I didn’t want to lose your friendship! We’re such stupid love struck idiots.” Bailey composed herself enough to get that out before continuing to roll around in laughter after she said what she wanted to.

Q had, in that moment, then realized that all the guys had known about both their feelings but never said anything. Suddenly a lot of memories began to click together and make a little more sense. All the time Murr, Joe, and Sal had always teased them when they were in their own world and their own conversation whenever they hung out. Anything involving pairing up like beer pong, Bailey and Q were always strung together as a team every time. At movies they would always find themselves sitting next to each other. He had thought it was all coincidence, but now he’s realizing the boys had tried to subtly set them up for a while. Funny, the one night none of the boys are around, their wish had finally come true.

“So, here’s the question that I should have asked a while ago: would you like to go on a date somewhere?” Q wrapped his arm around her shoulder and watched as her smile grew.

“I’d want nothing more than just to finally do that.”

“Would you also like to plan the next prank with me on Sal to get him back for this evening’s mess?”

“Oh hell yes!” Bailey exclaimed as ideas of his torture began brewing in her mind.

“Let’s get you back to your dorm then before more weird things start happening.” With that they both got up and started to leave the park, hand in hand, just as they both had always wanted.

#brian quinn #impractical jokers #q #brian q quinn #brian quinn imagine #brian ''q'' quinn #q imagine #q impractical jokers #suki writes #fluff

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natural-namjoon · 5 years ago

Text

Silver Millennium Ch 1

Previous Chapter

His hands. They felt warm, really warm...actually they were pretty close to burning at this point. Yoongi looked down and noticed that they were... Glowing? The logical part of his brain told him this wasn't supposed to be happening but the other part felt fuzzy. Everything was soft and warm and if he had to put it into words he would have described himself as a soft little cloud floating in a bright daytime sky, weird but he was enjoying himself. The soft silver glow that was around his hands seemed to melt all around him. He couldn't see himself but he knew he was bathed in it. This pretty, soft, silver light. So comforting, so warm….

“YOONGI!”

It was as if someone threw ice water on him. His joints locked and his muscles tensed. His heartbeat took off in a sprint and he was suddenly achingly aware of his own body and the space it occupied. He looked around but all he saw was white. He was floating in a white room, but it wasn't a room, it was just a vast colorless expanse.

“YOONGII!!” he heard the voice again… what was it saying? Yoongi? He knew it was his name but it sounded so unfamiliar to him. The voice called his name again and that's when the aching in his chest started. Dull at first but the more Yoongi tried to pinpoint the voice, it grew stronger. A tearing, painful ache that caused him to double over. He wanted it to stop. He knew who the voice belonged to and he needed to find them, once he did that the aching would stop. He didn't ponder much on why he knew that as a fact, he just needed to do it. With a huge gulp of air, he reared back and cupped his hands around his mouth, and with all his strength he hoped his call would reach the familiar yet unknown person, with one last prayer he let it all out and he shouted their name ********

Yoongi jerked so violently it caused him to sit all the way up-right in bed. He looked around confused. For a moment he really didn't know where he was or who he was. The fog of confusion drifted slowly away as he was able to get his bearings. He was in his bedroom, in his tiny loft apartment in Seoul. Oh yeah, and it was also the first day of University. That also explained the blaring alarm that was coming from his left night-table. He groaned and reached over to smack the clock into silence. He sat for a moment trying to shake off the heavy feeling his dream had left him with. It was an extremely weird dream, no doubt, but it wasn’t one he hadn't had before. He had been having dreams like that for as long as he can remember. First, they started coming few and far in between and as he aged they occurred more and more often. Since moving to Seoul they actually have been happening almost every other night. They weren't scary per se, just alarming. He always woke with a strong sense of urgency and longing, but at this point, it wasn't something he wasn't used to. The content of the dream was always pretty similar, though the setting would shuffle between white space, a garden, a hall with marble pillars, a rose bush maze, and sometimes his favorite- on a grand balcony overlooking a bright bustling city with white shiny buildings. In all the dreams, though, he always started off alone, bathed in warm silver light, and it was that voice that always grabbed him. It was like hearing the voice of a long lost friend or relative. He knew the voice, he felt it deep in his soul, that voice belonged to someone dear, and he knew who it was, but every time he was ready to shout the person's name he always awoke. It was frustrating, to say the least.

He remembers telling his mom about the dream and she has decided to take him to a Doctor and when Yoongi was deemed fit as a fiddle with no neurological or mental issues, she had taken him to a psychic who specialized in dream interpretation. She told him that the person calling his name was his own inner demon who was put there by some jealous relatives and if they paid her extra she could exercise the demon. Needless to say, she was scamming them to high heaven. In the end, Yoongi was forced to accept these odd dreams as an almost everyday norm in his life. Not that he was complaining, he could have been some unlucky bastard who dreamt of terrible, horrific things every day. Now that, he wouldn't be able to handle on account of his inability to sit through a scary movie without noping out of the theatre or living room.

Shaking off the heavy feelings he lazily climbed out of bed, he grabbed his phone and headed to the kitchen to turn on his coffee maker. He had felt odd buying the thing at first. He had always thought that only old people had a full pot coffee maker, but it was cheaper than those flashy one cup coffee espresso machines like everyone his age was so keen about owning. In the end, he felt like it was a better deal because he came with a warmer that he could leave on all day and the result was a nice hot pot of coffee when he came home, yeah grandpa Yoongi was winning the millennial game.

As he set the machine to brew he checked his phone and was happily surprised to see a text from his little Sister, Chae Rin, wishing him good luck on his first day. She was five years younger than him and in her 2nd year of high school. He and Chaerin actually got along well and he always thought of them as closer than the usual brother-sister pair. He loved composing and she loved singing. Through their mutual love in music, they became the best of friends.

He texted her a quick ‘thanks Chae, give mom a big hug for me’ then he set off to get ready for classes. Once finished, he filled up a to-go cup of coffee and grabbed his plain black Jansport bag and headed out. He walked out to the attached parking garage that his apartment building had and took the elevator to the 2nd level, he counted himself lucky that he had a car. A lot of kids his age always relied on public transport, and even though public transport would probably be cheaper, he treasured his car because he was gifted his Dad's old car once he had gotten his license, He stepped off the elevator and was met by his baby, a light grey 1994 Buick Skylark. It was an old car, literally as old as him but it still worked and he loved it. He hopped in and started her up, as usual, the engine stalled but after some sweet encouraging words and a few pumps of the gas he got it started.

He found his way to campus relatively easy, having only lived a mile from the school. He found the designated parking for students and hesitantly made his way to go find his first class. Yoongi had always known what he wanted to do and it was produce music. He has always had a passion for writing and creating music and that's what lead him to enroll for a degree in music production and composition. He knew he'd have to take a lot of music theory classes, a lot of writing and reading classes and maybe some computer classes and history but never had he expected to be taking math and science classes. He was going to work with music, why did he need to know that the mitochondria are the powerhouse of the cell?? He grumbled annoyed at himself as he scanned the campus map to find the building that his first-class was in, which was Beginning Biochemistry. After about 5 min he was still very lost, the map was way too simply designed so he couldn't figure out where he was in regard to the map, therefore, he couldn't figure out where he needed to go. What also did not help was that none of the buildings had signs on them indicating what building was which, What school did that? He thought. He was now royally frustrated so he just started walking deeper into the campus, hoping to go by building shape to find the building he needed.

At this point he was storming past people, intensely scanning the surrounding buildings and then the map, unfortunately, he wasn't paying attention to where he was going and he ran into a brick wall that knocked him on his rear end, well what he thought was a wall, until the wall yelped as it lost balance and dropped a couple of heavy-looking textbooks, It was another dude. Yoongi felt immediate embarrassment, he looked over at the other guy on the ground across from him, the dude was big, much bigger than Yoongi, which kinda wasn’t saying much since Yoongi was a smaller average man, but this dude was tall, Yoongi could tell he was legs and arms for days and he had a massive frame.

The guy was quickly trying to gather his impressive mountain of textbooks and notebooks. Yoongi snapped out of his embarrassed trance and quickly jumped to help the guy,

“Hey man, sorry about that, I should have been looking where I was going…” Yoongi said, tentatively handing the guy a notebook.

The big guy looked over at him and that's when Yoongi first got a good look at his face, he had soft eyes with very full lips and a small button nose, he was handsome as hell, except for the piercing gaze that was being sent his way, Yoongi thought for sure that the guy was going to lay into him. Yoongi wouldn't consider himself a scrappy guy but he has been known to stand up for himself on more than one occasion during his primary school years, so he wasn't above fighting right there but he really wasn't up for it on the first day of school. Instead of yelling or reacting in any negative way the taller guy just sighed and in a deep smooth voice, he responded quietly

“It's fine man, I should've been paying better attention myself”

With all his items gathered he stood and yeah Yoongi had been right, the guy stood really tall, he seemed to be a good 8 inches taller than him, with a wide frame and thick arms and legs, Yoongi thought maybe this guy played sports, probably basketball which he hoped was the case, Yoongi loved basketball and used to play competitively in high school.

“Dang man your pretty built, you play hoops?” Yoongi tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, the guy then surprised him by… giggling? Yoongi looked up at him confused.

“ Sorry its funny, I've actually never really played any kind of sport in my entire life” tall, deep voice said

“ WHAT?! Then why are you built like a tank man??” he said incredulously

“ My first priorities are always my academics but what's the point of being smart if I can't keep my body alive long enough to reap the rewards of my success? I just work out a lot in my spare time is all, just so I stay in tip-top shape” the deep voice explained, “Ah sorry where are my manners, my Name is Namjoon, Kim Namjoon, and you are?” Namjoon extended his hand over to Yoongi.

Yoongi shook it, he had to admit that he was impressed by Namjoon, Tall, Well built, smart, nice and good looking, he didn't realize people like him existed, he was impressed yet felt significantly inferior.

“ Wow, it's nice to meet you, I’m Min Yoongi. Sorry again about bumping into you, I was just looking at the map, Today is my first day and I’m just kind of scrambling trying to find my first class but this damn school doesn't seem to believe in labeling the buildings for us slower folks,” Yoongi complained and Namjoon chuckled.

“It’s ok, I was confused too but after a closer look, I figured out the buildings are actually numbered on small signs by the doors. Kind of counter-intuitive because they made the maps so simplistic.” Namjoon explained, Yoongi just stood surprised and honestly ticked off

“ Well that’s fucking stupid” he stated bluntly.

Namjoon laughed again and then held out his hand, If you don't mind me looking at your schedule then I can maybe point out each building that your classes are in, maybe then we can avoid you being late” he smiled softly and Two cute dimples popped out on his cheeks

Yoongi just nodded excitedly and passed Namjoon his Schedule with relief. After scanning the classes and their corresponding class numbers, Namjoon made a surprised noise.

“ Well I guess fate has intervened, cause I have 3 of the same classes as you and our first one happens to both be beginning biochemistry” Namjoons dimpled smile got wider as he handed Yoongi his schedule back. Yoongi felt his jaw drop

“ No freaking way, that’s crazy! Well, I guess it's a good thing I face-planted into you” he laughed feeling genuinely lucky for the first time that day.

“ Come on, let's head over to class so we’re not late, I know where it is” Namjoon broke into a long stride heading towards a nearby building

“ Lead the way friend” Yoongi tried to hurry and match his big steps.

Once in class, they opted into sitting next to each other having formed this sudden friendship out of nowhere. As class when on during free moments they would talk and he learned That Najoon wanted to become a teacher and he was currently leaning towards literature teacher since Namjoon had a passion for writing. As he sat and learned more about his new friend Yoongi couldn't help but feel like he was meant to be here, his choice of leaving home and going to a big fancy college wasn't in vain, it felt right and he was actually pretty confident more good things were to come his way. He let that warm happy feeling sink in and radiate as he laughed and chatted.

………………………………

The day went on pretty successfully, the next class Yoongi had with Namjoon, so it felt nice to just follow his new friend around. His second class of the day he had Literature, easy enough. Again he sat next to Namjoon and again he felt at ease and comforted to have someone on his side on his first day. No awkward seating, no weird forced partnerships by the professor. It was awesome and he didn't know what it was about Namjoon but he radiated such a calming and trusting aura. Yoongi loved it and he was drawn to it, which made it that much harder to leave him once Literature was over. Yoongi's next class was music theory and Namjoon had a foreign language class. So after pointing Yoongi in the right direction and promising to meet up with him for their history class later in the day, Namjoon was off and Yoongi was alone again.

With a dramatic sigh, Yoongi made his way over to his Music theory class. Once he found the correct classroom he grabbed a seat towards the back. He felt somewhat chagrined that he didn’t have anyone he knew in this class but he was also kind of ok with it. He had a feeling he would be too wrapped up in the course material to make many friends. Music was in his soul so he wanted to absorb anything he could in regards to it.

One by one, students filed into the classroom and soon class began, his professor was an older lady, she was sweet and very wise, she was classically trained in over 10 instruments and she definitely had a passion for music. Yoongi loved her and he knew he was going to love the class. The professor was in the middle of telling a charming story about the time she took a trip to Italy and learned how to play the oboe from an elderly man who lived in a hut, she had all her students chuckling and the vibe was light and fun when all of the sudden the loud metal door to the classroom swung open. Yoongi looked up and in walked the prettiest person he has probably ever seen. He was young, probably a student, and he was gorgeous, slim and small with muscled thighs and legs under black skinny jeans, he had a ripped band shirt on under a red velvet bomber jacket, he had on one sparkly dangly earring and a silver choker. His Hair was also the shiniest golden blond and styled longer with a clean undercut, he was breathtaking. The pretty boy stood in the doorway and looked around, taking in the room, everyone just stared at him. A sly smile broke on the guys’ plump juicy lips which looked like they were covered in gloss.

After a moment the teacher finally spoke up,

“ Excuse me? Can I help you?” she chirped,

the guy giggled and it was high pitched and almost melodic.

“ Yeah uh, is this music theory?” the guy asked his voice smooth and pleasing to the ears, not deep but not too high pitched. The Professor gave a curt huff and got up to check the class roster.

“Jimin? Park Jimin?” she asked, reading the only name that was marked absent during roll call. The guy pointed at her and smiled that gorgeous smile again.

“ That’s me, sorry I’m late, I slept in a little too long, haha whoops” Jimin giggled again like he found the whole situation hilarious.

“ Whatever just please find a seat Mr. Park, you’ve disrupted the class enough already.” the professor looked completely done. With another small giggle, Jimin took a look around the room and Yoongi, having found the boy intimidating and incredibly attractive, prayed he sat somewhere far from him, he didn’t want any distractions. Almost as if he could read Yoongi’s thoughts, Jimin, zeroed in on a seat next to Yoongi and practically skipped over to him. Yoongi had hoped he didn’t look as alarmed as he felt. Jimin took the seat and immediately turned towards Yoongi, face beautiful and expressionless as he stared him down. Yoongi fought the urge to writhe in his seat, he wanted to snap at the guy and demand what the hell he was looking at, but he wasn’t the confrontational type so instead, he held his hand out and said quietly, “ Hello, I’m Min Yoongi, nice to meet you.”

after a beat Jimin broke into the biggest smile Yoongi had ever seen, his smile so big his eyes became slits and his perfect pearly white teeth gleamed at him. Jimin reached out and grabbed Yoongi’s hand and just held it.

“ Oh my god it’s so nice to meet you too, I’m Park Jimin but you can call me Jimin or Jiminie or whatever you like. Your so cute, let’s be friends!”

And just like that Jimin turned back towards the front of the class and that was that. Yoongi had never felt so confused in his life.

The rest of the class went off without a problem and Jimin didn’t say anything else to Yoongi, It was strange but Yoongi didn’t mind. Once class was over Yoongi stood up practically starving, he had a free period, so that means he had about an hour to kill before his history class with Namjoon, Yoongi decided to grab something at the campus cafe. As he gathered his things Jimin turned and looked at him expectantly. Yoongi stood in a permanent state of confusion, Jimin giggled again softly, finding Yoongi’s awkwardness adorable,

“Sorry I just kind of expected you to say something, I was just wondering what class you had next, maybe we could walk together,” He explained giving Yoongi a softer smile.

Yoongi, on the other hand, felt so confused, How did he just make a friend just like that, he hasn’t even decided if he liked Jimin or not. After a moment he decided that even if he turned out not liking the guy at least he would be alone before meeting up with Namjoon.

“Um next class actually I have a free period after this, then in about an hour I got-”

“NO FREEKING WAY!” Jimin screeched grabbing Yoongi’s hands, “I have a free period right now too! do you want to hang out until your next class?” for the first time that day Yoongi smiled back at Jimin,

“ Sure thing, I was actually going to head to the cafe to grab something to eat, care to join me?” He asked and Jimin just nodded excitedly. Both boys gathered their things and headed out of the now-empty classroom together, they made their way across campus to the Campus Cafe which was an extension from the library. Once there Yoongi ordered a roast beef sandwich with some fries and a soda Jimin ordered a berry almond salad and milk tea with boba. They both agreed on sitting in the courtyard at one of the picnic benches in the shade as it was a really nice day out, one they sat down they didn’t say much and just started eating, Yoongi was unsure how to strike up a conversation with Jimin, they hadn’t said much to each other after leaving class and even stood quietly next to each other in line for food not saying anything. He was hoping Jimin wasn’t feeling too awkward, at least not as much as he was feeling. Yoongi took a sip of his soda still wracking his brain for something that could start a decent conversation with his new “friend” when Jimin suddenly looked up from his food and looked straight at Yoongi,

“I intimidate you, don’t I?” He asked bluntly.

Yoongi literally spit out his drink, Jimin giggled,

“I- uh- um what do you mean I’m not-” Yoongi stuttered trying to not sound like a fucking dork and Jimin just smiled at him

“It’s ok, it happens a lot- and I don’t mean that in a cocky way i just… I know I come off as a lot, its hard for people to vibe with me because of it,” he explained, Yoongi nodded cleaning up the soda he had spit all over himself.

“it’s not so much that I don’t vibe, I actually think it’s pretty cool that you came up to me, I’m not very good at making friends so people who take initiative first really make my life easier so thank you,” he smiled at Jimin hoping his sincerity came through strong enough.

Jimin stared at him for a bit, Jimin liked Yoongi, he didn’t know why but he felt in his heart that Yoongi was a good person and was going to make a good friend. Finally feeling like he had broken the ice, Yoongi starting asking Jimin about his studies and found out Jimin was a dance Major, his life was dancing, of any style. He specialized in Alternative Dancing, though. Yoongi noticed that when Jimin spoke about it he swore he saw a warm glow in his eyes, like literally a yellow gleam mixed in with his dark brown eyes. It was strange but he wasn’t going to say anything.

In the middle of his chat with Jimin, Yoongi could suddenly hear his name being called. Confused, he turned around and saw Namjoon jogging up to him and Jimin,

“Yoongi! Hey man, why didn’t you tell me you had a free period right now,” he smiled his cute dimpled smile as he sat down next to Yoongi at the picnic table. Yoongi didn’t notice Jimin's Jaw literally fall to the floor.

“Yoongi, whos this I thought you said you didn’t have any friends” Jimin practically drooled on the table Namjoon faked a gasp,

“ Oh wow I thought you considered me at least a friend since we were literally tangled up this morning” he laughed not realizing how that sentence sounded, Yoongi's ears turned red and Jimin gasped

“ That’s not what he means,” Yoongi put his hand in his face, embarrassed by the big dork sitting next to him,

“ Oh! No, I didn’t-” Namjoon started, only just realizing his mistake.

“Anyways Jimin, this is Namjoon, Namjoon this is Jimin, I just met him right now in music theory class.”

Namjoon reached out to shake Jimin's hand and Jimin just held it, for a little too long as his eyes literally devoured the tall brown-haired boy in front of him.

Yoongi cleared his throat trying to distract from Jimin's obvious thot behavior,

“Hey so you have a free period right now too, that’s awesome, now we can meet up and head to history together,” Yoongi, once again felt so lucky that he didn't have to do any of this alone so far.

Hey may not know either of these guys well enough to call them good friends but he sure as hell going to cling to any hope of friendship he could get. Throughout the free period, all three boys talked and bonded, it was strang the conversation ran like they had known each other for years and each guy felt a comfortable familiarity, even with Yoongi being a shy awkward weirdo, Namjoon being a bit of an airhead sometimes and Jimin being thirsty for Namjoon. Again Yoongi was hit with a new wave of happiness and he knew the others felt it too. He made some friends on his first day, and that was pretty damn cool.

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

Next Chapter

#yoonkook fanfic #yoonkook au #sailor moon #silver millennium #bts fanfction #namjin #fantasy #romance

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wincestjel · 5 years ago

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like the gun: chapter 1

fic master post

read it on archive!

words: 1955

next chapter -->

***

“Dean, have you ever considered a service dog?” The question hung in the air, and suddenly Dean’s cold, freezing. A service dog? He wasn’t blind, he wasn’t deaf, he wasn’t missing any limbs. What the hell would he need a dog for?

“It’s a possibility, you know, a service dog for psychiatric disabilities.” It’s as though she read his mind. Wait, did she? Could she?

Nice tits, Dean thought, and when the therapist didn’t react, he relaxed. Fine, okay. She couldn’t read his mind, his thoughts were just predictable. Dean loosened up a little, settled back into the old sofa. It didn’t last long, because soon enough he was shooting up again.

“Listen, lady. You’re, like, the fifth therapist I’ve seen this year. Nobody knows what to do with me. What makes you think you’re any different? What makes you think some-- some mutt will fix me?”

The woman, whose name Dean never bothered to remember because chances were he’d be seeing someone new in a week, smiled. Dean hated it. He wanted to get up and slap that goddamn smile right off her face. He shook his head. A dog? What the hell would a dog do to help? Again, as though reading his thoughts, the therapist spoke up. “I’ve seen it work quite a few times, Dean. There are several ways the dog can help; let you know when your heart rate rises, ground you during times of panic, lead you to a safe place when necessary… the list goes on. I really think you should consider it.” “Yeah, well, you know what? Consider this,” and in a swift movement, Dean was on his feet. He gave her the finger, turned on his heel and left. The door slammed in his wake, the sound breaking through the silence of the waiting room. The waiting room, where Bobby, family-friend-turned-guardian, sat with a magazine opened in his lap. With a sigh, his eyes found Dean and a frown tugged at his lips. “No good?” “No good. Let’s go.

The sun floods in from the window, blindingly bright, and Dean grumbles something to himself. Who the hell left the blinds open? There’s a puff of air blowing on his face every few seconds, and with a groan he turns, buries his face in the mass of fur beside him.

“Colt, wake up. We gotta get Sammy to school,” he says, though there’s no effort made to actually do so. Sam’ll yell when it’s time to go. If it weren’t for his little brother, Dean would likely just spend the morning in bed with his dog, only getting up for walks and games of fetch or tug. He doesn’t care about school; not anymore, not with everything else going on. But he has to care for his little brother who actually has plans, potential.

A few minutes go by and finally, Dean rolls out of bed with a groan. Half asleep, he wanders the room and grabs an outfit off his floor--a flannel, tee-shirt and jeans that are *probably dirty--then heads downstairs with his shepherd at his heels as per usual. Once downstairs he gets started on coffee and feeds his dog, then runs through a few brief training drills with Colt. “Good boy,” he praises, the words a yawn and goddammit, is the coffee seriously still brewing?

“Morning, Dean.” It’s Sam, somehow energetic even at this ungodly hour, somehow awake. Dean’s jealous, if he’s being honest, but he’s even more jealous of the people who don’t have to worry about being awake.

“Morning, Sammy. Sleep okay?”

“Sam. And yeah, just fine. You ready to go?”

“Not goin’ in today.”

“What? Dean, you can’t cut again.”

A sigh, and Dean shakes his head. He doesn’t want to argue, doesn’t want to fight with Sam about this like they had so often before. He looks down at his dog, who’s sitting at his side. “You’re with me, yeah, buddy?”

The dog’s response is a whine, and the look in his eyes… God, it’s almost like he’s begging Dean to go, to be functional. That’s his job anyway, isn’t it? To force Dean into functionality?

“Fine,” a groan, spoken reluctantly. “Okay, okay. Only ‘cause you’re *both giving me those damn puppy-dog eyes, and I can’t say no to that.”

“Really?” A grin spreads across the kid’s face, and his arms are around his older brother in an instant. “I bet it was Colt. It was, wasn’t it? G’boy, Colt.” He ruffles the fur on the dog’s head.

Finally, the damn coffee’s finished and Dean stands, pours two cups and grabs a few cereal bars from the cabinet. “Here, eat.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Sam says with an eye roll, but pauses. Dean stiffens, and suddenly there’s a change in the air of the room. It’s tense, like Dean’s muscles and jaw. “De, I--”

“Don’t. Just-- don’t. Eat.”

The conversation is dropped there, after a little nod from Sam, who grabs the cereal bar and one of the cups like Dean had instructed. He brushes a hand through his hair and takes a small sip, eyes running over Dean’s outfit.

“Didn’t you wear that yesterday?” he asks.

“Probably,” a shrug from Dean. “C’mon, Colt.” And as he walks towards the door, coffee in hand, the dog follows right behind. Dean lets him outside, the dog running around the graveyard of old, busted up cars that is their uncle Bobby’s yard. They stay outside for a little while, until Sam’s at the door shouting for Dean to return. Goddammit, the kid always has to be on time for school, doesn’t he? A whistle, and Colt comes running back, practically skidding to a stop as he sits down in front of Dean.

Dean grins, “atta boy. C’mon.” And together they walk back inside.

A few minutes later, the dog’s vested and both Sam and Dean are ready to go. Dean calls out to Bobby, letting him know they’re leaving, then nods towards the car. And as he slides in, he sighs, resting his hands on the steering wheel.

“Mornin’, baby,” he mumbles, thumb running back and forth, tracing the curves of the wheel.

Sam rolls his eyes and shoves his brother. “If you two want a room, De, I can go.”

“Shut up.”

The rest of the drive is easy, familiar banter between the two. It’s like this every morning, the boys teasing each other and talking. It’s nice, it’s something Dean needs in his life. He and his brother are damn close, and he’d pick watching a movie with Sam over watching one with a friend. But he’ll never tell anybody that, especially not Sam.

Pulling up in front of the school is, as always, absolutely dreadful. He doesn’t want to get out of the car, because as soon as he does he’s stuck. There’s no getting out once he’s in. Or at least, that’s how it feels sometimes.

“You can do it, Dean,” Sam says. His is voice soft, encouraging.

And that’s all Dean needs to get through the day; the encouragement from his baby brother, who looks up to him like nobody else.

“Hey, Winchester!” Dean looks up. It’s a friend, thank God, not some jackass trying to start a fight or piss him off. Benny claps him on the shoulder, and Dean gives him a little smile. He waves Sam off and takes a detour with his friend, meeting up with Charlie somewhere along the way. The three sit and talk and Dean’s happy, even in a good enough mood to let Charlie give Colt a few pats on the head.

Across the way he can see a group of girls staring, talking and it’s nothing Dean isn’t used to. It’s *welcome, in fact. He smiles, lifts a hand and wiggles his fingers in a wave. The girls giggle and blush and whisper amongst themselves, and with his friends’ blessings, Dean walks over.

His arm slides around Lisa Braeden, and he grins down at her. They’ve hooked up a few times, and yeah, maybe Dean has a thing for Lisa and Lisa a thing for Dean, but Dean doesn’t do relationships.

No, Dean does his best to keep people out. He doesn’t want a repeat of what happened when he was a kid.

There’s a point where the conversation lulls and then Dean leans in, and their lips press together, his hands finding her waist. He can’t help it, she’s damn irresistible. And then somehow, they end up in Dean’s car--him and Lisa in the back, Colt laying down in the front. School’s started so the yard is empty, as is the parking lot and-- God, there are lips on Dean’s neck and he can’t think about a damn thing other than that.

But then Colt interrupts. Dean’s heart is racing, and the damn dog can’t always tell the difference between adrenaline and anxiety. He can’t get to Dean because the seat’s in the way so he whines, chin resting on the back of the seat. Lisa pauses, Dean groans.

“I’m okay, Colt,” he says, then combs a bit of hair back from Lisa’s eyes. “Why’d you stop?”

“I don’t like when the dog watches. It’s weird, Dean.”

“He ain’t watching.”

“Look at him! He’s staring right at us.”

Dean sighs, gently nudging Lisa off so he can deal with his dog. He leans over and runs his fingers along Colt’s head. “I’m fine, buddy. Lay down.” And Colt obeys. “Better?”

“I have to get to class, Dean,” Lisa says, leaning in for another kiss. “I’ll see you at that party this weekend though, right?”

“Always. You know me.”

“Good. I’ll see you there.” And she’s gone.

The rest of the day is uneventful; a blur of talking and writing and papers and of course there’s some goddamn freshman who just has to ask him what the dog’s for. But then the second-to-last period comes around, and just as he’s getting ready to leave, he’s stopped.

“Dean, I’d like to speak with you after the bell,” his teacher says, soft enough that Dean’s the only one who can hear. There’s a hand on his shoulder, one that Dean shrugs off.

“But I’m supposed to leave early. I can’t wait until the bell.”

“You can wait until after, I’ll write you a late pass.”

Dean sighs and takes his things back out. Five minutes shouldn’t be such a big deal, but when it comes to the end of the day it just is. He doesn’t go back to work, though. Hell, he never works in this class. He spends the time doodling in the margins of his notebook. It’s more a journal than anything, filled with brief passages about the night where everything went to absolute crap. But Dean won’t call it a journal, he refuses.

When finally the bell rings, the students in the room filter out. But Dean stays where he’s sitting, waits for the teacher to come to him. He’s nervous, and as much as he wants to hide it, a little bump from Colt’s nose tells otherwise.

“What’s up? Can we make this fast? I got places to be,” Dean says, arms crossing over his chest.

“Dean, you’re failing. Horribly.”

“Am I? Great. Can I go?”

“No, Dean. You need this class to graduate, and--” “I’m not graduating.”

“Dean.”

“Yes?”

The teacher sighs. “Dean, do you know Castiel Novak? I’ve spoken with him, and he agreed to tutor you. Here’s his phone number.”

Dean groans, but he takes the number from the teacher and plugs it into his phone. He doesn’t really plan on calling, not without being forced to. Whether that’s going to be by his teacher, or someone else, Dean isn’t sure.

#destiel #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #destiel fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fic #spn #spn fic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #hs!au #destiel hs!au #destiel high school!au #LtG

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carlynagisa · 6 years ago

Text

Secret Valentine fic~ I didn’t fall for you you fucking tripped me!

Summary: How to get one Nakahara Chuuya to agree to a Valntine's date: Fall for him. Literally. Or how Dazai Osamu broke his ankle and miraculously healed in the span of an hour.

Pairing: Dazai/Chuuya Rating: G - General Audiences Warnings: no warnings apply :)

Notes: Dear @nakaharali-chan I’m your Secret Valentine and I hope you're happy with this happy fluffy skk piece! Unfortuately you didn't give me any prompts so I kinda winged it? Also greetings to the entire SKK Trash discor server, you guys are pretty damn cool!!

Hope you like it and enjoy!!

AO3

“Who in their right mind thought that class at 8 am in the fucking morning was a good idea?” Chuuya grumbled while basically slumping into his seat, just seconds before the bell rang. His head fell onto the table in front of him with a loud thud, body and mind too tired to lift himself up.

Tachihara next to him only raised his brows slightly before sliding his spare coffee in front of his tired friend. “I much prefer this to Fukuzawa-san’s 8 pm class. Now that’s suicide.”

Regaining his senses enough to smell the heavenly scent of the freshly brewed coffee in front of him, Chuuya dragged his head up, bleary eyes turning to the other redhead while blindly groping for the beverage in front of him. “Okay, who are you and what happened to Tachihara? Did you murder him?” He yelped after taking a generous sip of the coffee, belatedly noticing that it was still quite hot – definitely freshly brewed. At least he was awake now, albeit slightly.

“You’re way too cheery.”

Tachihara’s fingers drummed on his table. “Dude, isn’t it obvious? Today is Valentine’s Day!” He gave Chuuya an incredulous look once realizing that the other wasn’t impressed at all. “Don’t tell me you forgot about this, mister popular?”

Was it already too late to reassign to another class, preferably later in the day? Chuuya could kick himself in the shin for his naivety while deciding on his college classes.

He chugged down the rest of the coffee – albeit it was still too hot and surely burned more of his taste buds than it should – finally able to face his classmate and the rest of what was to come.

“You mean the overly commercialized fake holiday that is supposed to celebrate love but rather celebrates capitalism in all its glory? How could I ever forget about that?”

“So you forgot about it.”

“Entirely.” Chuuya let out a deep sigh before bending down and sifting through his backpack. “Imagine my utter joy when I was nearly jumped by a freshman that tried to shove chocolate down my throat. Or when an entire group of sophomores literally ganged up on me.”

Finally he found what he was looking for. Without a word he threw a bundle over at Tachihara’s confused face. “You can have it.” He rolled his eyes in annoyance at the thought of those stupid hopeful girls that declared their undying love to him without ever talking to him, let alone getting to know him. Was everyone going crazy today?

Unclasping the bundle, Tachihara let out a whistle while studying the amount of chocolate that was wrapped in it. “And imagine that the day only started. Give me some of your popularity?” He said while inspecting a piece of especially colorfully decorated chocolate. “Think I can give this to Gin?”

“You want to ask her out?”

“Yeah.” Poor guy, he’d never stand a chance.

“She’ll eat you alive.”

“That’s why the chocolate! She’ll hopefully be busy with it. And let’s hope her brother doesn’t find out first… He won’t only eat me alive but rather roast and cook me before that.”

Chuuya laughed at the image of Akutagawa Ryuunosuke letting out his wrath because his little sister was being courted. That wouldn’t be the first time, Gin was rather popular these days.

Chuuya snatched a piece of innocently looking chocolate which he held out for the other redhead. “Then you should give her this. Dark chocolate is her favorite.” She’d kill him for the fancy colorful one. “Although. isn’t it pretty impudent giving her chocolate that isn’t even self-made?”

“We don’t want to let it get to waste, huh?” Tachihara winked. He wanted to say something else but the professor used this exact moment to make his entrance. Chuuya knew that he was in for an interrogation later. He slumped on his desk once more and let out a deep huff, this was going to be a long day.

“Sooo,” Tachihara began after the two left the room to get to their next class. “Mister popular.”

“Stop calling me that,” Chuuya groaned. He hated that nickname. It wasn’t his fault that the female student body was way too hormone ridden to just leave him alone and became especially obnoxious during this time of the year. He wasn’t even that good looking! And definitely not nice enough to them to warrant such behavior. Why they were so fixated on him was still beyond him.

At least he was not first place on the popular bachelor scale, and yes such a thing did exist. This arguable honor went to a true idiot who might have sported the good looks and the brain but had a rather rotten character. That guy cut a swath through girls’ hearts and completely acted on their foolishly adoration towards him. Chuuya was always very adamant not to get thrown into one pot with the likes of him. Stupid bastard.

Dodging another incoming underclassman who surely wanted to give him even more chocolate, Chuuya hurried through the corridor. “I still don’t know what they want from me.”

Tachihara was hurrying along next to him. Chuuya noticed the bewildered look with which the other fixated him even without turning towards him. “Um, hello? Maybe because you’re quite hot? Ah, no homo, you know?” Chuuya rolled his eyes at that but snorted regardless. “Seriously, you’re one of the best-looking guys here. And it seems like you’re forever single, so you’re not only available but they also want to be the one person to break your unattainable bad-boy status.”

That statement stopped him. Chuuya would like to defend himself for the last part – while he dressed rather scandalous, leather jackets and chokers were among his favorites, and yes, he liked to smoke – he wasn’t a bad-boy by a long shot. He even helped out at volunteering jobs, thank you very much.

But the first part was much more concerning. They stood in the middle of the hallway in front of the stairs now, effectively blocking the way.

“Tachihara… available? Seriously? You do know I’m gay right?” The redhead was pretty sure that the whole college knew about his sexuality by now. He wasn’t keen on hiding it, what was the point of it anyway? Which made it even more surprising that the girls seemingly tended to flock towards him.

Tachihara next to him laughed awkwardly. “Of course I know! I’m pretty sure they also know about this. It’s just…”

“Just what.” It was a growl now.

“It’s just,” and now the other was definitely looking away on purpose. “Don’t explode, Chuuya, okay? It’s just that they have this weird fantasy about you. You know, making the gay man falling for them, being that special girl and all that shit.” What the fuck?! “And then there are the yaoi fangirls of course, who just have those weird fetishes.”

What. The. Fuck.

If Chuuya’s mood was bad before, now it was below zero degrees. “What the fuck? I’m not some fetish come true? What is this Fifty Shades of Bullshit?”

His friend pointedly looked at the ground now. “It’s just what I heard. Apparently people fall for this kind of set-up. B-but I’m pretty sure that people just love you Chuuya, you are pretty awesome. So, just accept some of those Valentine gifts and give them a chance?”

Fuck this shit. Fuck this entire day. He had enough.

He couldn’t help letting out another growl while twirling towards the stairs. Chuuya had enough.

“Fuck this shit. I’m going home.”

“B-but we still have class?!”

He. Had. Enough.

“I don’t give a damn! I’m going home, avoiding this entire Valentine shit. I’m tired of people proclaiming their baseless love and people ‘falling for me’.” Because he knew this wasn’t true. Chuuya had been unloved for his entire 22 years of living and it wouldn’t change just because he was giving chances. So far nobody had really fallen in love with him anyway.

“And for your information-“

“Watch out!!!”

Chuuya’s tirade was cut short rather abruptly by a loud ruckus and an even louder voice yelling before he was hit with what suspiciously felt like a steamroller and fell to the floor with a crash.

Thanking his quick reflexes that supported himself on his elbows, thus saving him from most injuries, Chuuya still found himself face-front on the cold floor which surely hadn’t been properly cleaned in a long while. Absolutely great.

Even better, the heavy weight on his back indicated that whoever had the genius idea of flinging themselves down the stairs a little too fast and therefore tumbling them down instead of using the proper way had landed much more comfortably than himself.

“Oops,” the person on his back laughed. “That’s not the downfall I was expecting.”

“And what did you expect instead?” Chuuya grumbled, still lying helplessly on the ground. The nerve! Whoever this was, they clearly were in no hurry to get up and moving.

The person – definitely a guy – hummed. “If I had landed only a little bit more face-first I could’ve easily broken my neck; if you wouldn’t have stopped my fall that is.”

“What a wonderful thing that I was in the right place and cushioned your fall, huh? And I still do by the way!” If Chuuya was close to erupting earlier, now was the perfect moment to finally let it out. Which guy would be this obnoxious to-

“Wonderful?? More like tragic! You ruined my opportunity!”

Ah. Dazai Osamu then. Just peachy.

Was it something about today or was it just the universe or whatever karma there was that decided it would be fun to fuck over Chuuya completely on this so called holiday? Who else could have done such a stunt and accidentally fallen down the stairs at the exact same moment Chuuya was passing them but Dazai freaking Osamu, school’s resident genius slash lunatic and to the redhead’s begrudging admittance the real number one heartbreaker of their college.

Accidentally my ass, Chuuya thought, this was definitely another one of Dazai’s famous suicide antics. Could he not have jumped down the building instead? And he surely must have seen Chuuya, right? So why not wait until the smaller male had been out of the way.

Oh yeah, Dazai was an asshole, that’s why.

Said asshole apparently found Chuuya’s still lying form rather comfortable, at least he made no indication to move.

“Ah! Is that you chibi?” Another thing about Dazai: Chuuya couldn’t stand him. School playboy or not, his character was just obnoxious and generally off-putting. “What are you doing down there?”

“Obviously I’m enjoying the view. The ground is rather comfortable, why don’t you join me, bastard?”

That finally got Dazai to move. Even if it meant that the brunet was suddenly appearing up close in his point of vision.

Dazai cocked his head to the side, studying Chuuya with a one eyed glance. It seemed like the idiot had hurt himself again, half his face was hidden under bandages and a big plaster. It matched his appearance wonderfully, with all the other bandages around his arms and neck and god knows where else. Either Dazai was the unluckiest person on earth (and that was rather impossible, since Chuuya was positive that he currently took that spot) or he was even more freakish than everybody thought.

The girls seemed to like it at least.

The redhead couldn’t figure out if the other found what he was looking for, but Dazai suddenly shook his head while his gaze finally left Chuuya. “I think the floor is nothing for me, chibikko, but whatever floats your boat.” Still he made no attempt to stand up.

Hushed whispers harshly broke Chuuya’s own stare and brought his attention back to his surroundings. While definitely not a shy person and generally immune and uncaring towards any kind of gossip, it was hard to ignore the whispers about how two of the most eligible bachelors – who couldn’t even stand each other all that much! – of their entire college were randomly lying in the middle of the corridor together.

Shoving Dazai away from him for good, Chuuya hastily rushed back to his feet, brushing off imaginary (or not so imaginary, the grime on the ground was very real after all) dust. Tachihara next to him chuckled. “So now it’s not only the girls falling for you, huh?”

“Oh shut up, you asshole.” It was in good nature though. Tachihara wouldn’t make fun of him in earnest. Hopefully nobody else in the perimeter would. They wouldn’t dare.

All except one.

“Which girl would ever fall for someone that small? They’d have to bend down all the time like they’re talking to a child!” Thankfully Dazai was still in a wonderful position seated on the floor, perfect for Chuuya to kick him in the hip.

“You shut up as well, bastard. What are you still doing there on the floor?”

The other made no motion to move at all. Instead he only raised his arms at Chuuya expectantly, depicting a strange picture of a one-sided hug.

“Waiting for you to pick me up, obviously. I might have twisted my ankle during the fall and can’t walk, silly.”

Chuuya’s ears were growing hot, a clear sign for the upcoming blush that threatened to erupt on his face and that would clash horribly with his hair. He was overly aware of the student body that still watched the scene playing out attentively. The gossip would only grow worse and worse now.

After still not being picked up, Dazai started sporting a very obvious pout. “Since it’s your fault, chibi, you should at least help me up.”

His fault?! What the hell? That idiot had fallen on him!

“You fell on me!”

Tachihara next to him mumbled “Don’t you mean for?” Chuuya gave him a nasty look.

“But Chuu-yaaa!”

“Don’t Chuuya me!” Embarrassment now fully visible on his face, Chuuya hastily dragged Dazai up towards him, ignoring how the other rather tried to hug him. “I’m going to drop ya!”

Apparently the other male had really hurt his ankle in some way, – or he was acting fantastically, this was still Dazai they were speaking of – he heavily winced once Chuuya tried to let go and his right foot gave out under him. “Ouch ouch ouch!”

With a heavy sigh Chuuya moved one of the taller one’s arms around his shoulder. Fucking lanky people. “Stop acting like a baby, it’s your own fault.”

Dazai hobbled rather unsuccessfully on one foot. “I already said that it’s your fault! If it hadn’t been for you I would have fallen on my neck, hopefully breaking it, and I would not have a broken ankle now!”

“Hell, it’s not broken! But I’m still letting a doctor check you up.”

By now there was at least some movement regarding them. Dazai was even more useless than before but Chuuya slowly got them moving, albeit slowly. Not quick enough to escape the ever growing crowd around them. At least nobody would try to give him chocolate now…

He waved Tachihara goodbye, promising his friend to catch up with him once he delivered the annoyance on his shoulders to the doctor’s office.

Except, they did not go there.

Oh no, after half the way freaking Dazai suddenly decided that he would rather not see a doctor at all. Possibly broken ankle or not.

“You even get another stupid bandage for your growing collection!” Chuuya was exasperated. But Dazai wouldn’t budge, weight suddenly slumping around his shoulder, threatening to drag him down like a sack of potatoes.

“Nah. Don’t wanna.” Stupid pouting child! Chuuya should just drop him-

“I know!” Dazai suddenly beamed, picking up his weight again. “Since you hurt me, chibbiko, you should make up for it. You can take me out for a consolation date!”

What the-

And that was the story of how one Nakahara Chuuya suddenly found himself roped into a Valentine’s Day date with his worst enemy after falling flat on his face.

He wasn’t sure how Dazai had gotten Chuuya to agree at all. Maybe it was the puppy eyes… maybe it was Dazai acting like a sack of potatoes again. Anyway, he ended up seated opposite of one Dazai Osamu, hesitantly sipping on his coffee while the other happily slurped on an overpriced latte abomination.

Dazai suspiciously didn’t mention his hurt ankle anymore.

Instead, he talked about everything and nothing. After an hour, Chuuya already knew everything about Dazai’s latest obsession with Instagram food blogs (yes, of course the brunet took a picture of their drinks), how boring his latest literature classes were ever since Oda-sensei left to teach grade schoolers instead (Chuuya found their current literature topic, European poets, rather fascinating) and how drowning was apparently a less painful suicide method than asphyxiation via plastic bag (Chuuya had NO opinion on that one).

It was rather fascinating.

At first, Chuuya had felt utterly uncomfortable and wanted nothing more than leave. What was he supposed to talk about with a person who shared none of his interests, moved in entirely different social groups and with whom most if not all his conversations so far consisted only of jarring insults and merciless teasing?

It turned out that there was no need to think up topics to talk about at all. Dazai kept up a pleasant flow of talking, even asking Chuuya questions and for his opinions rather often, initiating a real conversation after a while.

Dazai himself suddenly seemed to bloom, his entire posture was more relaxed than Chuuya had ever seen and the disinterested and cold look in his one visible eye slowly grew more and more warm and cheerful. Chuuya on the other side felt more and more comfortable and dare he say intrigued by the enigma sitting in front of him.

All in all it was… nice.

At least until the implications of the calendar date changed their dynamics in the form of a cheerful server in a dreadfully pink apron.

“Hello you two!” The light-haired server beamed, holding a plate in one hand. “And a happy Valentine! You two make a wonderful couple! Treat’s on the house!” With a beaming smile he placed the plate onto their table, winked and skipped back to the counter towards a disgruntled dark haired male who sported an equally awful pink apron and who hit him on the head after the waiter tried to jump him.

Dazai’s eye became impossibly big as he studied the chocolate mousse in front of them. Chocolate mousse that was shaped like a heart… Chuuya’s stomach suddenly jumped.

Ah yes. He totally forgot about Valentine’s Day. It was rather nice not being flogged by pushy girls for once. But this…

“Say Dazai…” Said brunet raised his head in question after taking more pictures of their dessert. “Did we just go here because you wanted free food?”

Dazai laughed – Chuuya couldn’t tell if it was real or fake. Dazai wasn’t easy to figure out.

“Of course!”

Ah, so that’s how it was. It was too suspicious after all that Dazai would suddenly go on a date with Chuuya and have fun with him without any ulterior motives. Even if those ulterior motives were just free food, the smaller male couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappoint and… hurt?

Pff, as if, Dazai and he weren’t even friends. They were more like enemies, not being able to stand the other for longer than a few minutes. Of course the other was only playing around. And if he got a kick out of playing stupid gullible Chuuya, all the better for him. Consolation date, my ass.

Deeming the pictures he took good enough, Dazai decided to dig into the chocolate mousse, very visibly enjoying its flavor. He even moaned a little in satisfaction.

“Aren’t you eating?” Chuuya didn’t even touch his own spoon. He was not hungry any more.

“No you can have it.” Well, he had taken the other out and even paid for their drinks, that was good enough right? Then he could leave now and let the other be, his ankle seemed good enough to get going.

Standing up, Chuuya reached for his jacket when a hand suddenly gripped his wrist tightly.

“Don’t go,” Dazai murmured, spoon and dessert abandoned.

“Didn’t you get what you wanted?” Chuuya mumbled, trying to drag his wrist back towards him. “You don’t need me anymore, I already paid-“

“I said what I meant.” Dazai’s grip tightened, the look in his eye now determined. Chuuya noticed how its warm chocolate brown color turned dark. “I wanted to go on a date with you. I want to be here with you.”

“Yeah right, you just wanted me to pay for you.” He knew that he sounded bitter but Chuuya had his fair share of disappointing dates so far, guys and girls alike who were either in for his looks or just to use him to pay for all their commodities. “It’s fine, I had fun and this was probably the best Valentine’s Day I had so far. To think that a commercial fake holiday and your company could be fun! Thanks for that I guess. No need to play nice anymore.”

The hand on his wrist finally loosened its tight grip, instead Dazai used it to shield his mouth and chuckled.

“Oh my god, Chuuya’s cute.” It took said person a moment to realize that he had not misheard and he seriously got called cute by Dazai Osamu. And judging by his earnest laughter and again warm eye, he was serious about this. That was quite the step up from being called short or a slug. Cute, huh?

Sensing Chuuya’s surprise, Dazai elaborated.

“I literally fell for you, doesn’t that account for nothing?”

Fell… for him?

Wait a second.

“You didn’t fall down the stairs by accident?” Could Dazai really be such an idiot?

“Of course not! I already told you I did it on purpose.” He was really such an idiot. “I just didn’t do it to try to kill myself for once though, it’s rather that I saw you standing there and was like ‘why not?’”

Why not? What. An. Idiot!

“You flung yourself down a staircase just to get a date with me?”

Dazai even had the nerve to look proud. “I sure did!”

“And you couldn’t just have asked me out like a normal person?”

The proud smile faltered. “… I could have?”

With a deep sigh, Chuuya slumped back down onto his seat, finally taking his spoon in his hand. Deliberately ignoring his opposite’s gaping stare, Chuuya dug into the rest of the previously abandoned chocolate mousse, letting out a small moan himself when the sweet taste exploded in his mouth. This was heavenly! He decided to let Dazai hanging until he finished off the rest of the dessert on his own, not even throwing as much as a glance at the more and more restless brunet.

Only after he dropped his spoon and licked off the leftover chocolate on his lips (Dazai’s eye followed his tongue; Chuuya did do it deliberately of course) he turned towards the hopeful male.

“Maybe. I probably would have said no, who knows. But your plan was not really nice.” Chuuya raised an eyebrow, Dazai’s hopeful look did not falter though, he knew the smaller one well enough to know that he wasn’t serious.

“I’m sorry!” Dazai whined, playing along.

Hook, line and sinker.

With a big grin on his face, Chuuya stated. “If you’re really sorry, you should prove it.” His confidence was finally back and it felt good.

Dazai was sporting an equally wide grin now. “How?”

“Take me out on a real date. No stupid Valentine’s Day, no scheming and lying.” Chuuya motioned towards Dazai’s now clearly fake ankle injury.

“And you’re paying. I have expensive tastes.”

Everything today had tried to piss him off as much as possible. Chuuya deserved some piece after such a day – who knew that Valentine’s Day might turn out to be more than a fake commercial holiday?

“Who would’ve thought…” Dazai mumbled under his breath, still not low enough not to be picked up by Chuuya.

“Last chance,” Chuuya shook his head. “How about Friday?”

Dazai slowly held out his hand, with that warm smile on his face again that made Chuuya’s stomach flutter.

“It’s a date.”

#bungou stray dogs #soukoku #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu #skk #bsd #secret valentine #writing #fanfiction

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uzumaki-rebellion · 6 years ago

Text

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chapter 4

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"This candor I do not condone

It's critical and not alone

The choices here I know I own

So lead on, lead on

Lean in, let me feel your breath on my skin (I know, I know)

Won't be over 'til it's over (touch me, yeah)

Lean in, liquor on your breath I'm tastin' (I know, I know)

Won't be over 'til we're sober (touch me, yeah)…"

Violents – "Equal Powers"

Califia stood back from her classroom window to stare at the decorations she had placed for Halloween. Pumpkins, cute little black cats with red bow ties, friendly looking ghosts carrying bags of candy, and silly dancing skeletons paraded before her eyes. She did a nice job.

Her students were already worked up from the previous week when she told them about all the special activities she had planned for them. Scavenger hunts during recess, mask making for arts and crafts, and a Friday afternoon party combining the sixth-grade class next to hers. She was looking forward to giving the children fun things to participate in. It had been a rough two weeks in the neighborhood.

A teenaged boy had been beaten by the police for refusing to let them stop and frisk him. The sixteen-year-old felt that he was profiled and ran from the cops when they yelled for him to stay put so they could park and accost him. The neighborhood went off and protested in front of the local police station. Nothing was resolved from it. A new cheaply made opioid was flooding the streets and Califia noticed a dramatic absence of some of her students who had parents with addiction problems. On top of that, there were rumors floating around that the family of a young boy that had been in Califia's previous year's class had been taken away in the middle of the night by the Feds. Only it wasn't the Feds according to some accounts, but a secret organization with nefarious ties. Califia didn't know what to believe.

"Looks good," said Leticia, the other sixth-grade teacher next to Califia's room.

"These kids are so hyped for this week, I don't even know if they can focus on classwork," Califia said.

"Here," Leticia said handing her a mug filled with black coffee.

"Thank you," Califia said glancing at her watch. They both had thirty minutes of quiet before the start of their day.

Both women stood side by side sipping their morning brew and staring at the decorations. Leticia moved in closer to Califia. Her voice became a whisper. She spoke in Spanish to Califia.

"I heard that Terrell and his family are in Los Angeles."

"Who told you that?"

"Shhh…I have a friend on the Board of Education who did a little digging. His transcripts were forwarded to L.A."

"Another school?" Califia asked.

Leticia looked around them and moved in closer.

"I don't know if it was a school, but the head honchos were very secretive about it. Very nervous about people looking into it—"

"Which one of you is Califia Stevens?"

Califia and Leticia were startled to see their school Principal and two men in dark suits standing behind them.

"I am," Califia said switching back to English, sizing up the suits and giving her Principal a look of concern.

"Califia, these two men would like to speak with you about Terrell Greenley."

Leticia left Califia and walked into her own classroom as the two suits moved closer to Califia. One suit was a dark-haired white man with glasses and the other was an attractive Asian man with a severe military buzz cut.

"I'll cover for your class until you get back," Principal Johnson said.

"Get back?" Califia quipped, her eyes darting between Principal Johnson and the men.

Califia's boss looked very nervous, her usual no-nonsense expression replaced with worry lines and a pressing of her lips tightly together. Principal Johnson always reminded her of her grandmother when she was dealing with the students and often her staff. Her mahogany face looked deeply troubled.

"This way, Ms. Stevens," Buzzcut said.

Califia followed the men back to the main office where they moved past an office staff that appeared agitated as well as curious. Entering a conference room in the rear of the main office, Califia was directed to take a seat with her back facing the wall. The two suits sat across from her.

"What's this about? Who are you guys?" Califia asked, feeling a little bold and a bit annoyed that she wasn't told she was going to be hemmed up by the Feds so early in the morning.

"No need to be concerned. We are doing a background check on Terrell Greenley and his family. We are not at liberty to give you any details about —" Glasses said.

"Can you at least tell me that he and his family are okay?"

"They are fine," Buzzcut said, giving Califia a cultivated smile meant to ease her unease. It did the opposite. At least she knew the family was alive. She also knew these suits were not the Feds. Something about their demeanor read bad news.

"What do you want to know?" Califia said, leaning back in her chair. She threw her arms across her chest giving a deliberate defensive look. She knew they were trying to invoke the tired good cop/bad cop routine. Buzzcut was not the one to focus on. Glasses was the one who held the big cards in this hand. Califia focused on him.

"How was Terrell in class? Good kid? Troublesome?" Glasses said.

"Great kid. Smart. A little shy. Kept to himself a lot, but he eventually opened up after a few months. He liked to help me in the classroom after school. His parents worked late, so he was a latchkey kid."

The suits listened. Didn't write down or record anything she said. They were probably wired and someone else was recording their conversation.

"Did you notice anything about him that gave you any cause for concern?" Buzzcut asked.

"Like what?"

"Anything that made him stand out?"

"What do you guys really want to know?" Califia said leaning forward. She placed her hands on the conference table. She needed these dudes to be blunt.

"Were his parents attentive to his education? Did they attend parent conferences or open houses?" Buzzcut said, ignoring Califia's question.

"Answer my question first."

"Ms. Stevens, we're not trying to create an adversarial interaction here. We just need some background information to help us assess Terell so we can help him and his family."

"Are they in a witness protection program or something?"

"Something," Glasses finally interjected.

Califia played it close to the vest. She sat back in the chair again.

"His parents worked a lot. It's expensive as fuck to live here nowadays."

Califia waited to see how they would react to her cursing. Nothing.

"They came to one open house event last fall and attended a Kwanzaa presentation in December. They were nice people. Hard-working and proud of their son. Just normal people."

Califia noticed Buzz cut glanced at Glasses when she said the word "normal". It was their tell. Califia decided to act softer in her interaction with the men.

"They were a sweet family. Are they really okay? Can you let Terrell know that his friends and I miss him very much?"

"Thank you, Ms. Stevens. You've helped us out a lot," Buzzcut said standing and buttoning up his suit jacket. Glasses stood and Califia eased out of her chair slowly.

"So that's it?" Califia asked focusing hard on their body language.

"That's it," Glasses said giving her a false smile.

"Bet," Califia said walking out of the conference room. She walked into the staff restroom and locked the door behind her. She stood in front of the bathroom mirror and stared at herself to get back in focus. Those clowns were not the Feds. They were not part of any legit government agency. They knew Terrell was not normal. Califia even knew Terrell was not "normal".

Everything she said about the boy was true, except Terrell was an unusual child. There was something different about him. Not overt, but everyone could tell that the slender boy with the big eyes and warm smile was unique.

Califia first noticed it when he arrived in her class a week after the term started. She had been having a horrible headache that didn't disappear even after six hundred milligrams of ibuprofen. She was introducing the class to her new charge and the pain in her head was throbbing like a monster, but Terrell had reached out and rubbed her hand and the pain had ceased. Instantly. She remembered staring at his small hand patting hers and feeling comfortable and…safe.

She had dismissed it as a fluke until she began noticing Terrell's ability to make people feel good. If a fellow student was having a temper tantrum or an argument on the playground and Terrell happened upon them, the problem and anger disappeared. When Califia's teaching assistant was suffering from bad congestion and blocked nasal passages, Terrell asked her for help with a math problem and simply touched the assistant's hand and the problem vanished. Not gradual. Instant.

A healer.

That's what he was. And Califia kept her mouth shut. She'd read stories online and heard whisperings in the streets about people appearing in places with special abilities. A lot were coming from poor communities. Poor communities of color. Many were disappearing. Just like the Greenleys.

Terrell was a little Black boy with a gift, and Califia wasn't about to let on to any secret NGO that she knew the child was a special target. Black people had enough problems surviving as regular humans, let alone being extraordinary.

She surprised herself by not freaking out when she became aware of what Terrell could do. She just had a private chat with him to keep his "skills" a secret. She said the same thing to his parents when they did speak in private at the one and only open house they attended.

The Greenley's were a simple working poor family. Just like everyone else in their neighborhood, they hustled for the basics and lived paycheck to paycheck. Mr. Greenley worked at a recycling plant and Mrs. Greenley did hair in her home, getting paid under the table to make ends meet. Califia was upfront with them and advised them to remind Terrell to keep things to himself. They thanked her for her understanding, and Califia kept her eye on him at school and kept him close afterschool.

But somehow, someone noticed and snitched. A month ago, word was out that the Greenley's had disappeared. No forwarding address, no word of warning or anything. One minute they were in the neighborhood, the next, they were gone. They didn't even take their belongings from their apartment. The landlord had a yard sale after a month had gone by and no one came to collect their things.

Califia was aware that the school was being watched. Several of her students had reported to her about dark SUV's with tinted windows being seen parked near the school and the park. She herself had caught a glimpse of these vehicles cruising through the area during recess. Maybe Terrell wasn't the only one. She hadn't noticed any other children with gifts. Perhaps they were better trained to conceal their abilities. She hoped so.

Leaving the staff restroom, Califia felt the eyes of the office staff watching her as she left to return to her classroom. She caught a glimpse of the two suits climbing into a dark tinted sedan and leaving the school parking lot.

Back in her classroom, Principal Johnson was leading Califia's students in a game of times table Olympics.

"All done," Califia said trying to sound cheerful. Principal Johnson's face still looked grim. She had to know that Terrell was different. The woman nodded and handed over the class to Califia's capable hands.

When her day had ended, Califia straightened up her desk and made sure her copy order in the office was on track to be ready in the morning. Their school was so poor and stingy with supplies that every piece of paper copied had to be approved before the copy room staff could print anything. Most times she copied things at home on her own printer. But this order was for the craft activity she planned, and she needed a few hundred sheets done in color. Color ink was expensive as hell.

She was going to walk home since she lived close by and didn't need to ferry anything back with her. Her classroom assistant had gotten through test paper grading and collating math folders for the next day, so for once, Califia had a teacher homework-free night.

She threw on her winter coat and adjusted the collar. Stepping off the school property after switching from heels to sneakers, she waved goodbye to some staff and students and trudged down the sidewalk. She noticed a car following her, a late-model Camry. She turned around to see who was driving when the car stopped. She felt anger rising up in her. Did these fools never quit? They already questioned her—

"Hey, sexy!"

Cedric stepped out from the car and swept her up in his arms.

"What are you doing here?" she said as he put her back down on the sidewalk.

"Had a couple of free days and wanted to see you."

"You were going to see me next month."

"I can't wait for Thanksgiving."

"Albert know you out here?"

"None of his business."

"I'm keeping my mouth shut then," she said holding onto Cedric's hand.

"Your other dude around the next few days?"

"Scott?"

"Oh, so Scott must be a new one. I was talking about the mechanic."

Califia made a face and Cedric pulled her towards his car.

"Are you hungry or anything? I can take you to get something to eat."

"Thank you, yes!"

She skipped over to the passenger side of his car and noticed a dark blue SUV across the street from them. She couldn't make out the driver, but she felt her lips curl into an angry snarl. These suits didn't quit. Were they going to follow her around now? She made a move to cross the street and confront them, but Cedric threw his arms around her and kissed her up against his rental car.

"I missed you," he said.

"You better had," she said.

Califia, Cedric, and Albert had been seeing each other for over a year now. Strange to think a year had passed since she re-connected with them. Also, a whole year and more since her reunion with N'Jobu. Stranger still to think that she and N'Jobu had actually stayed in contact with one another. An occasional email from him. Or a text. He kept his messages cryptic because of his status, but at least she knew how he was doing and he could keep up with her. It felt nice to have him in her life on that level. She even sent him a picture of her classroom students from the beginning of the year. He sent her a recent picture of T'Challa and himself in a pool.

There was no mention of marriage or Zinzi, and Califia didn't bother to ask. It was enough to know he was well and she kept it at that.

She glanced over at the SUV as she wrapped her arms around Cedric's neck. Fuck those people.

"Let's go," Cedric said opening up her passenger door. She hopped in and felt her cell vibrate in her purse.

A picture of her cousin Michelle popped up on her phone.

"Hey cuz," Califia said as Cedric pulled away from the curb.

"Yo, Auntie K is on one. She said there's a barber over in the cut that looks like ole boy from your college."

"Who?"

She could hear her cousin mumbling something in the background of the phone, and her Aunt Kendra mumbling something back.

"Hold on a second, Cali," Kendra said.

Califia's phone buzzed again and when she looked down at it, Kendra had sent her a text.

"What's this?" Califia asked.

"Look at it, is that him?"

Califia swiped the screen of her cell and a picture popped up. Drizzy's Kuts. A popular barbershop. The spot she used to go to until her barber moved to Richmond and she had to follow him there.

There was a blurry shot of a man clipping hair.

"I'm supposed to know who that is?" Califia said staring at the picture.

"See I knew that wasn't him," Michelle said to Kendra in the background.

"I don't know who that is. Bad picture," Califia said shoving the phone back up to her ear. She heard a shuffling of hands and then Aunt Kendra was on the phone.

"That African dude works there," Aunt Kendra said.

"Who?"

"That dude you brought to Thanksgiving. The African. He works at Drizzy's."

"Lemme call you back," she said swiping back to the photo again.

Staring at the photo, she tried to make out the blurred image. Dark skin. But a lot of dudes that worked at Drizzy's had dark skin. It was a side profile, but someone else was walking past the figure obscuring the features.

It couldn't be N'Jobu. In Oakland? Working in a barbershop? He didn't even know that area. Had never been there. His time here had been selective and covert. He didn't know the hood like that.

"Everything okay?" Cedric asked.

"Yeah, my cousin was just checking on something. She thought a friend of ours was back in town. It's not him."

"Where do you want to eat?"

"Anywhere?" she said glancing back at the photo.

Their early dinner together was pleasant. A Mediterranean restaurant with great baklava for dessert. When Cedric went to the restroom after paying, Califia looked at the photo her cousin sent one more time. Curiosity killed the cat, and the gnawing curiosity in her gut was making her antsy. The last email she received from him was over a month old. No word of him coming back. Why would he? Her Aunt was mistaken.

"Ready?" Cedric asked.

Califia walked in front of him as they left the restaurant.

"I'm staying at the Doubletree."

"You know you can stay at my place," Califia said.

"I know, but I thought you might like a little mini-vacation. I can drop you off at work and pick you up. I'm here for three days. There's a whirlpool jacuzzi bath in my room."

"Nice."

"Shall we go to your place first and pick up some things, or do you want to stay tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow," she said quickly. Cedric glanced at her then set his eyes back on the road.

"Okay," he said.

"Could you drive me over to my cousin's first?" she said.

"Sure."

Califia gave him directions. But not to her cousin's.

She had him park around the corner from a busy street.

"I'll be right back. Need to grab something from my cousin real fast."

"I'll be here," Cedric said.

Califia made her way towards the corner. When she was out of Cedric's vision, she ran down another block and headed towards another street.

She spotted the shop. Drizzy's Kuts. It was busy and bright and her eyes tried to track the goings-on inside from across the street and behind a light pole. A man with a long grey t-shirt and a gold chain around his neck was lining up a chubby dude in a middle chair. Califia found herself moving in closer to look.

Damn.

Before she knew it, she was stalking into the shop and staring at him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she said.

The busy shop kept moving along, but many of the men watched her as she stomped her way up to N'Jobu.

Clippers in his hand sitting above his client's scalp, N'Jobu stared at her, his eyes registering surprise, but his demeanor remained poised and under control. The beard was gone and the goatee was back in place. His own hair was lined up crisp, and his clothes were fashionably hood chic.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

Califia felt her neck lean back. What the fuck? He had no accent. He sounded just like a regular East Bay brotha annoyed at being bothered on the job.

"You heard what I said. What the hell are you doing here?"

Her own voice was starting to sound shaky. She glanced around the shop and saw the curious eyes checking her out and also hoping to catch some drama.

"Yo, JoJo, take that outside," said a hefty man clipping the beard of another customer in the back.

"Give me a minute, bruh," N'Jobu said to his customer as he turned off his clippers and placed them on a counter. He grabbed Califia by her arm and pulled her outside.

She felt stunned and unable to think clearly looking at him again in person. He guided her around the corner from the shop.

"What is going on? How are you here?"

"Can we talk about it later?" he asked, still accent-free. His whole demeanor was so different…so regular and yet not regular.

"You couldn't tell me you were coming back?"

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a brass business card holder. He opened it and handed her his card. She read it.

"Joseph Stevens?" she read out loud.

"I'll explain everything to you later. I gotta get back to my customer."

She felt her body reacting to the sound of his voice.

"You got me really fucked up right now, N'Jobu—"

"Joseph…JoJo around here."

He placed his card case back in his pocket. She noticed that he still had his black and silver ring on. But no wedding band.

"N'Jo….Joseph—"

He leaned in and kissed her on her cheek. He smelled so damn good, she felt her eyes close when his lips touched her cheek.

"Later, okay?"

She watched him jog back around the corner. She stared at his business card. Her legs felt wobbly. She started walking in the direction of her townhouse but remembered she had driven over with Cedric.

She scrambled back towards where she left Cedric shoving N'Jobu's card into her coat pocket. Her thoughts were all over the place. One minute she's being questioned by men in black, next she's swept up by a long-distance lover, and now N'Jobu was back in Oakland.

How?

The hours at Drizzy's were long but fruitful.

Four months he had been in Oakland and three of those months had been proving his worth to Nate Robinson, the owner of Drizzy's. N'Jobu had his entire backstory worked out. He had been born and raised in Oakland but moved to Richmond in junior high. Got into some trouble and had to leave the state for a couple of years. A death in his family had him returning to his roots and he was trying to start brand new. He had the East Bay accent down cold. All he had to do was present his fake barber's license and cut a few heads to show his skills and he was in. His clientele doubled in the first month of work once word on the street hit about the new brotha who was handling the middle chair at Drizzy's.

He had an apartment in a rundown building and he made sure to get a dark Chevy Blazer that was a few years old to fit into his new lifestyle. He even had a girlfriend. Sort of.

Tonya was a young woman he met at a block party thrown by Nate at a neighborhood park. She worked for the city and was an easy way for him to get acclimated to his new surroundings. She really liked him and he liked her a lot. He thought a regular friendship could develop, but after a couple of months, he had needs, and they got along well enough. He had to get himself settled before he could even think about approaching Califia. He was still getting used to being out of Wakanda. Still getting used to the idea of being a War Dog outside of his country.

He planned to wait another month before seeking out Califia, but he almost lost his façade when she marched into the barbershop with hands on her hips demanding to know why he was there. He had no idea how she found out. He did his best to stay low key and away from her regular haunts. But Oakland was Oakland. Word of newbies got around it seemed.

Her hair was a little longer. She had it in a short twist out with faded sides. Her nose ring was replaced with a tiny blue nose stud. He couldn't see much of her body in her long winter coat, but she looked great. He felt his lips tingle when he kissed her cheek, and he heard an unmistakable sigh coming from her lips when he touched her skin.

Returning to his customer, some of the patrons cracked smiles at him as he finished his work. Ivan, the barber across from him teased him a bit.

"Tonya know about that one?"

N'Jobu played it off by just smiling. He hadn't spoken to Tonya in a few days. Their relationship was cooling. She wanted to take things further with him and he was trying to break off with her as painlessly as possible. His War Dog training taught him that people had to be expendable once their usefulness was over. She made him look legitimate to the community. She had an ex that came around her way from time to time, but N'Jobu knew she did it only to try and rile him up. She was a pretty woman who could get whomever she wanted, so he wasn't worried too much about a blow up when he left her. He just had to time it right. Most of the guys in the shop urged him to drop her because she was after a husband and baby asap. They told him to watch his condoms. In N'Jobu's mind, the only woman he was having a baby with was the one who stormed into his job and stared him down not caring who was watching.

A baby.

When he returned to Wakanda, it was all he could think about. Getting away from the palace. Getting back to her. And yes, putting a baby back inside of her. It would be a sensitive topic to broach with her, but he was determined.

His War Dog assignment was to start at seven years and then go year to year after that. His job was to become entrenched in the community and to find out several things: Keep tabs on the pulse of Black Americans in Northern California. Report any factual evidence that a certain agency they were spying on globally was removing Americans with strange abilities. Keep tabs on an up-and-coming politician who had connections to another political figure they were watching in D.C. who could possibly cause Wakanda problems in the U.N. The latter issue had N'Jobu communicating with another War Dog in Washington on a weekly basis.

Being a barber allowed N'Jobu to be in the heart of the community and the flexibility to move around when he needed. His clientele list was high and he was popular at the shop, so the fact that he was bringing in more money for the owner allowed him to hook up his own schedule as needed. And Nate liked him a lot.

Despite the work he was doing for Wakanda, the only thing that he rested easy in was that he would get back to his woman. She was going to have a ton of questions, and concerns, and doubts about him. But he would be honest about everything with her. Tell her he was a spy. If she didn't want him anymore, he had no fear that she would tell anyone about who he was. He prayed she wasn't too far gone for him to come back to her. His love never wavered, and when her hands went to her hips, his eyes swept her fingers. From what he could tell, she was still free. No rings. Just hopefully the one he remembered being between her legs.

N'Jobu parked his car in a guest spot near Califia's townhouse. Lucky for him her place wasn't part of a gated community. The townhomes were a small, brand-new planned community created to help low-income residents own their first home.

Months earlier N'Jobu had followed her from work to her home just so he could know where to find her when the time was right. Unfortunately, the time came sooner than he had planned, so it was best to get it over with and see where the chips fell between them. His heart felt jumpy and his nerves were a little erratic with the thought of seeing her again. Their meeting in D.C. was imprinted on his brain and he didn't know how intense this next meet-up would be. He just wanted to be honest with her. Be a part of her life again for as long as he could. He wanted to build something with her, and being a War Dog gave him the time to do it. He had the next day off, so he hoped to be with her into the night and the next day too.

Her tan and cream-colored townhouse was the last one in a far back corner facing a vine-covered fence. It was private and quiet. N'Jobu made sure no one was around before he slipped out of his car and made his way to her place. Each townhome had a wooden fence to enclose on a small patio, so N'Jobu felt comfortable rounding the side of her place. Her lights were on and he could hear music playing softly. He was about to knock on her door when he heard more than one voice inside.

He eased down low and scurried around the side of the townhouse hidden by the patio fence and the darkness outside. Peeking his eyes over the top of the enclosure he could see her living room through the large window. She didn't have her blinds closed, and he wished to Bast she did because his eyes were not prepared to see her on the couch with a man.

Both naked.

The dark brown-skinned man was settled behind Califia, one hand holding her leg up and the other gripping her breast as he thrust his cock inside of her. Califia had her eyes closed and her lips were twisted up. What N'Jobu thought was music playing was noise from her tv set. Her window was open, and he could hear their groans and grunts through the screen.

N'Jobu ducked down low and felt his body grow hot with jealous need. His limbs felt tight and he fought against banging on her door and throttling her lover. He did not need to see this. Not now. Not when his mind was full of getting back with her and having something real…having a family.

Bent low near her fence, N'Jobu inhaled hard and fast. He had to hold it together. She was simply living her life. He could still hear the sounds of their lovemaking….no, fucking. They were simply fucking.

"Get it, baby…" Califia purred.

N'Jobu felt his stomach clench with a sour churning.

"Yeah, bitch, take this dick…"

Leave. Just leave. He tried to make his legs move to give her the privacy she deserved, but his ears heard this man call her a bitch. He was the only one who could call her that.

N'Jobu raised himself up to peer at the two of them again. They were still in the same position and N'Jobu wasn't sure if the man was wearing a condom or not. She better not let other dudes cum inside of her raw. His blood pressure rose, but he could not stop watching them. Especially her. The guy was pounding her and N'Jobu's eyes were on her clit. It looked like she still had his ring on. Yes. It was still there and her fingers were now fondling her clit. He felt his own dick thump in his pants. This woman had him whipped. Another man was fucking the shit out of her and he was getting a hard-on watching her.

What he was not about to do was watch another cock cum inside of her. He wrenched his eyes away from them and scurried back to his car. He was turned on and also livid as he sat behind the wheel of his Blazer. The man's face was full of ecstasy. Digging out his woman, fondling her breasts, playing with her clit and the ring. Fuck.

The only thing he could do was watch her townhouse and wait for the dude to leave before he stepped to her.

An hour went by.

Then another.

Soon it was midnight.

N'Jobu sat in his Blazer seething. Dude was sleeping with her. Would probably fuck her again in the morning.

He checked his cell phone to see if she even tried to call him after he gave her his business card.

Nothing-

Movement.

N'Jobu's eyes caught sight of the man leaving Califia's townhouse. He walked past N'Jobu's car without seeing him and stepped into a Camry parked in another guest spot. N'Jobu watched the man leave and then he stayed seated inside the Blazer thinking.

Should he go to her now? His mind only flashed to her writhing on the couch.

No. He would wait until tomorrow and approach her. He would go ballistic if he saw her now and she smelled of some other man. And he was feeling a little pissy. He wanted to be inside of her quite frankly. He also wanted to spank the shit out of her for making him hard while being on some other niggas dick. He shook his head. He was even thinking in the language of his surroundings. It was what it was. He was now a hood brotha and his feelings were developing in that way. He couldn't unsee what he just saw, so he was going to have to deal with it and move on.

He drove back to his apartment and showered, his body tense from what he saw and heard. He felt agitated, but once he crawled into his bed and the warm covers caressed his skin, his mood shifted to a better place. He was just drifting off to sleep when his cell buzzed on his nightstand. It was a number he didn't recognize.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice sounding heavy and wanting.

"N'Jobu."

"Califia."

He sat up and turned on his bedside lamp.

"I know it's late—"

"It's okay. I was barely asleep."

"It feels weird talking to you and you sound like this. I like it though."

"I need to see you. Tomorrow. We have a lot to talk about."

"I can't tomorrow—"

"Why not?"

He knew why not. He wanted to hear her reason. Would she lie?

"I'm seeing someone. He just flew in from Atlanta and he's only here for a few days—"

"I just need a few hours, Califia—"

"When he leaves, we can—"

"No. Tomorrow-"

"Whatchu mean 'no'?"

"We have to talk tomorrow. I can't wait a few days. I need to see you."

"You've been here awhile, N'Jobu. You had plenty of time to see me. You're going to have to wait until he's gone—"

"I'll come over now then—"

"No. You don't dictate when you can see me—"

"Is he still over there?"

Shit.

N'Jobu closed his eyes hoping she overlooked his slip up.

"Hold up—"

"Califia—"

"Nah, hold the fuck up. Still over here? What does that mean? Were you here? Spying on me?"

"I came by—"

"When?"

Why was she always so confrontational? Why was she so protective of this other dude and her time with him? His agitation bubbled up.

"I saw you fucking him on your couch, okay? Happy now?"

"You are unbelievable," she snapped.

"Trust me, I wasn't trying to see that. I just came over to talk to you—"

"How did you even know where I lived…never mind, clearly you have some sort of weird agenda. Watching me fuck Cedric on my own couch like some raggedy ass peeping Tom."

"I said I wasn't trying to see that. I was going to knock on your door, but I heard voices, and I just wanted to check to see if it was safe for me to come in—"

"It's my fucking house, why would you not feel safe?"

"I had to be careful!"

"Who are you yelling at?"

"I'm not trying to yell—"

"You're acting pissed because I'm fucking a dude I want to fuck in my own house. Really?"

His hands were itching to turn her over and lay her ass out. She was getting out of pocket with her tone, and it was ticking him off in the worst way.

"You're wearing my fucking ring."

"And?"

He stretched his neck from side to side to let it pop.

"Don't make me come over there—"

"And do what, nigga?"

"I'm your man—"

"Correction, you once were, but now you're not…goodnight,…Prince N'Jobu."

She hung up.

N'Jobu jumped out of his bed and grabbed his pants and a shirt. He fumbled around for his car keys once he was fully dressed.

He hoped ole boy Cedric enjoyed his moment with Califia that night because it sure as shit was going to be his last time with her. Ever.

Chapter 5 HERE.

#njobu #n'jobu #blackpanther #black panther #killmonger fanfiction #Black panther fanfiction #Black Boys Bloom Thorns First #N'Jobu Fanfiction #njobu fanfiction

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inyournightmares97 · 7 years ago

Text

Antipathy, part four

In which Park Jinyoung, a possibly murderous cat hybrid, makes you question everything you thought you knew about yourself.

Warnings: Possible strong language, mentions of abuse and hybrid!Jinyoung.

Word Count: 4.3k

part one part two part three part five

You woke up to a pounding headache.

Jinyoung had refused to speak to you for the rest of the evening, not moving from his curled-up position on the floor. You weren’t an idiot, you knew that he was having a difficult time but what were you supposed to do? He refused to open up about it and just kept acting out. Shouldn’t he be mature enough to know how to handle his problems?

Ugh, what is this horrible headache?

You trudged into the kitchen and noticed that the study door was shut. Rubbing your eyes, you started brewing coffee. You had an early-morning class and you couldn’t afford to wait around for Jinyoung to wake up. Then again, you probably did owe him an apology. It wasn’t right of you to explode at him like that without giving him a chance to explain himself. Besides, you’d been harsh. The thought that hybrids couldn’t disobey their owners had always disturbed you, and you’d never imagined you’d be issuing orders to a hybrid. But the thought of getting evicted had just scared you out of your senses.

You got dressed and drank your coffee quickly. What were you going to do about Jinyoung? There was silence coming from his room. You took a deep breath and then ripped a piece of notepaper out of your book, scribbling down a quick note.

Jinyoung,

I’m sorry I got mad at you yesterday. It wasn’t right of me to freak out. I know you’re having a hard time and I’d like to talk about it once I get back from class, okay?

You left the note on the dining table for him to find, and then hurried to get to your class.

“Honestly… this wasn’t your best work. There wasn’t much originality in it. I feel like you just took a bunch of ideas other scholars came up with and put them together. It’s a nice compilation but it doesn’t do much as an original piece of research.”

You felt your heart break as you nodded silently. You’d gone to see your Economics professor during his office hours, wondering why you’d gotten such a bad grade on the last research paper you submitted. It had been a really important paper. In fact, he’d hinted that the students who wrote the best papers would get a spot on the research team he was putting together for a new research project. And now your hopes had been crushed.

“Right…” you mumbled.

“Cheer up. I look forward to your next submission, I’m sure you can learn from this.”

You slouched out of his office, feeling miserable. You’d worked on this paper for an entire two months. Literally an entire two months because you’d set aside all other obligations and given up on your social life to write this paper. Had it all been just to get a barely passing grade? The guy sitting next to you in class had written his paper in three days and gotten the same grade. What were you doing wrong?

Frustrated and feeling annoyed, you sat in your car and groaned out loud. You didn’t even want to go back to your apartment because Jinyoung would be there and the last thing you needed was his intense, judgmental gaze on you when you already felt so worthless.

You were just sitting there, trying to get your thoughts together when your phone rang.

“Hello?” you greeted miserably.

“Hello! This is the Mr. Lee, the building manager,” a voice greeted you lightly. You sat up, eyes wide. What? Why was he calling you? Had Jinyoung done something else? Your heartbeat was thudding as you clutched the phone to your ear. “Do you have a minute to talk? I went up to your apartment a little while ago but you weren’t there.”

You cleared your throat. “Oh, right. I’m at university. Is something wrong?”

“There have been a couple of anonymous complaints about the feline hybrid that has been staying in your apartment for the past few days. He’s been causing a general nuisance, and I’m afraid we’re going to have to discuss this. I’ve received requests to have him removed from the building and I can’t ignore them. Could you drop by my office this afternoon, please?”

Shit. What did Jinyoung do now? Ilsung-oppa said he wouldn’t complain but did Jinyoung attack someone else?

“Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You entered your apartment, tossing your bag on the couch. Your heartbeat was thudding at the thought of having to face the building manager. This was the cheapest and best apartment that you’d been able to find so close to campus and honestly, you could not afford to get kicked out of here. It would make your life a complete mess. Too much effort had been put into securing this apartment for yourself.

“Jinyoung! Can we talk for a second?” you called out.

Jinyoung came out of the study slowly. His shoulders were slumped slightly as he carefully sat on the couch, looking up at you expectantly. You noticed that his dark ears were flat against his hair again; they seemed to become that way when he was upset. You took a deep breath and promised yourself that you would handle this better than you had yesterday. Jinyoung’s eyes followed you warily as you paced the living room, taking deep breaths.

“Okay. Here’s the thing. I got a call from the building manager a little while ago,” you told him slowly. “He says that he has a bunch of anonymous complaints about you and that there’s some people asking to have you removed from the building. Do you know what that’s about?”

Jinyoung looked up at you with wide eyes. “What?”

“Has anything else happened? Did you leave the apartment today?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Because-“

“I haven’t left the apartment today,” he said firmly. There was an edge to his voice, and you could tell that he was trying to sound confident. Jinyoung’s fists were clenched in his lap and he looked up at you, eyes hard. “I seriously haven’t left the apartment. You’re the only person I’ve seen all day. Isn’t it just that Ilsung guy causing trouble?”

“Ilsung-oppa said that he wouldn’t make a complaint-“

Jinyoung scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“What does that mean?” you demanded, folding your arms across your chest. Jinyoung had that same look of disgust on his face and you had to wonder what had happened to make him hate your neighbor so much. “Jinyoung. Can you please talk to me and tell me what’s going on? I’m just trying to understand what’s happening here and your attitude is not helping.”

Jinyoung looked away from you. “You wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”

“Why would you say that-“

“Because people never listen to hybrids. You yelled at me the moment you saw the scratches on that asshole’s face, you never gave me a chance to explain. Humans don’t care what hybrids have to say, that’s how it’s always been. Our voices aren’t meant for speaking.”

You felt your heart break as Jinyoung stared at you defiantly. Was that how it was? You’d always thought you were better than that, but you suddenly realized that what you’d done to Jinyoung yesterday was unforgivable. Maybe there was no justified reason for him to scratch Ilsung’s face but you should have at least asked Jinyoung for his version of what happened. You would have given a human that courtesy, but you’d scolded him the way someone would scold a cat for misbehaving.

He’s human too.

You sat down on the couch and took a deep breath. Fuck, you couldn’t deal with all of this. You’d been having a terrible day and feeling shit about yourself, so this was just the icing on top of the cake. Calming yourself down, you looked up at Jinyoung.

“I’m sorry,” you told him genuinely.

Jinyoung blinked at you. His eyes were wide and he opened and closed his mouth for a few moments. Clearly, an apology was the last thing he’d been expecting from you. You took advantage of his stunned silence and continued speaking.

“I shouldn’t have ordered you around yesterday. It was wrong of me, and I don’t know why I did it. I’ve always thought it’s terrible that hybrids are forced to obey their owners so I never imagined myself giving an order like that. I also should have asked you about what happened with Ilsung-oppa. I just freaked out at the thought of getting evicted. This is the cheapest, and nicest apartment that I can get close to campus, and it took me months to find it. I don’t want to get kicked out.”

Jinyoung bit his lip. “I can understand that.”

“But an apartment isn’t more important than a person’s feelings and I’m sorry I hurt yours. I realize now that I’ve been expecting you to be honest and co-operate with me, but I never did anything to show you that I trusted you. Stuff like this goes two ways, and I don’t think either of us have been holding up our end.”

There was a brief silence. Jinyoung only nodded quietly.

You took a deep breath and reached over, placing your hand on top of his. Jinyoung stiffened a little at the sudden contact, but he made no move to take his hand away. It suddenly struck you that Jinyoung’s hand was soft and warm. There was something comforting yet intimate about holding his hand and Jinyoung seemed to have felt it too. His gaze was soft, and you suddenly noticed how beautiful his dark brown eyes were.

“I’m going to prove that I trust you,” you told him firmly. “I know almost nothing about you and it’s barely been two days since we met but I figure that if I want you to trust me then I have to trust you first.”

Jinyoung cleared his throat. “There’s a reason why I attacked that guy-“

“You don’t have to tell me. We’re going to go down to meet the building manager and you can tell him exactly what is going on. If you haven’t done anything wrong, then just say that. I won’t interfere. Whatever you say, I’m going to back you 100%, no questions asked.”

Jinyoung looked startled. “What if he wants me gone from the building? I’ll have to go back to the shelter.”

“Do you want to go back to the shelter?”

He was silent for a moment, then slowly shook his head no.

You took a deep breath and forced a smile. You couldn’t believe that you were doing this, but something in Jinyoung’s eyes made you want to believe him. The boy sitting in front of you had clearly been hurt before, and you didn’t want that to happen again. “Like I said, I’ll back you 100%. If he refuses to accept your explanation and wants you gone, then he has to evict me too. So you’d better have a good one, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected that you would put yourself at risk for him. “Don’t you want to hear what happened first-“

“No. I trust you. Let’s go.”

“They’re anonymous complaints…? How can people send in building complaints anonymously? How can we be sure that they’re not all from the same person? They look eerily similar,” Jinyoung insisted.

The building manager looked uncomfortable. It bothered him that you were sitting silently, arms folded across your chest while Jinyoung did all the talking. The manager hadn’t even been expecting you to bring Jinyoung; who brought their hybrid to a meeting? Much less allowed them to take over the discussion? The building manager kept addressing you instead of Jinyoung and he kept giving him wary glances.

“Uh, miss…” the man trailed off, clearing his throat. “Maybe we’d be better off having a discussion between ourselves?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“It’s just that I called you in for a meeting, and it might be productive if perhaps your hybrid waited outside while we settled things. Just for the sake of having our discussion move more smoothly. This is a simple matter, we don’t need so many voices here. Especially not ones from hybrids.”

Wow. It shocked you how insensitive this man was being. You noticed Jinyoung stiffen beside you out of the corner of your eye. He was clearly offended by the idea that he would be made to wait outside like a child. There was a long moment of silence and Jinyoung looked at your nervously, clearing his throat. You waited for him to argue back or at least give the building manager one of his classic dirty looks of disgust. To your surprise, Jinyoung only dropped his eyes to the floor in a resigned way and scooted his chair back.

“I guess I’ll go wait-“

“Sit down,” you told him firmly, frowning. Where the hell did he think he was going? Jinyoung was always giving you the stink eye and he’d accused you of not respecting hybrids but he was going to take this asshole’s shit? You turned and frowned at the building manager. “Jinyoung’s going to stay right here. He’s the one that you’re trying to evict. The claims are that he’s caused some sort of a nuisance in this building. What sort of discussion could we possibly have with him waiting outside?”

The building manager gaped at you. “Uh…”

“Look, I came back from university because you asked to meet with me. Please don’t waste my time. Jinyoung says that he didn’t do any of the things in those anonymous complaints and you can’t even tell us who sent them in order to verify what happened. It looks to me like we get the benefit of the doubt,” you replied simply. “It’s not legal to evict hybrids from their owner’s residence unless they’ve been proven to be violent.”

Jinyoung blinked at you. “There’s a law like that?” he muttered under his breath.

You shrugged. You weren’t sure, but the building manager was starting to look flustered and you figured you should push him while he was weak. The man sat back and rubbed his face before leaning forward. “All right. Most of the complaints are anonymous so I can’t prove them. But there is evidence that your hybrid-“

“His name is Jinyoung,” you said firmly.

The building manager sighed. “Yes- Jinyoung here physically tried to attack Lee Ilsung, your next-door neighbor. I’ve seen the scratches on his face and he’s the one who brought me multiple complaints for the other anonymous residents-“

Jinyoung scoffed. “There are no other anonymous residents, he wrote them all himself-“

“If you would let me finish! Physically attacking a human being is sufficient cause to remove a hybrid from a residential building. If he won’t go then I’ll have to terminate your rental agreement as well, miss. Jinyoung can’t stay here after he’s attacked a human being. Housing a violent hybrid is sufficient cause for eviction. That’s all I have to say on this matter. You have twenty-four hours to remove him from the building; whether he goes alone or you both go is up to you.”

Your shoulders slumped forward in disappointment. Damn. You’d been counting on the fact that Ilsung hadn’t said anything to the building manager about that particular incident but he’d clearly ratted Jinyoung out. How were you supposed to argue with this? Jinyoung had attacked Ilsung, that wasn’t a lie.

You turned and looked at Jinyoung. He was sitting with his fists clenched, dark ears flat on his head. His usually-plump lips were pressed tightly together. You watched as he stared silently at the floor. It felt like he was thinking about something but you couldn’t be sure. You took a deep breath and reached over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Jinyoung? Do you have anything to say about this?”

Jinyoung looked up at you, torn. His eyes were pleading for help and you felt your heart go out to him. He clearly didn’t want to leave and you wondered why he was so determined not to be evicted when until a few hours ago, he’d been treating you like shit. But his hands were trembling and he took a deep breath, looking at you.

“You trust me, right?” Jinyoung demanded.

You blinked at him. “Sure. I told you, I’m backing whatever you say.”

His eyes searched yours for a long moment. You felt your heartbeat thud as his chocolate brown eyes pierced unblinkingly into yours, his shoulders and back stiff. You weren’t sure what Jinyoung was looking for, but he seemed to find it because you felt his shoulder relax slightly under your fingers.

“I’m trusting you,” he told you, suddenly.

You nodded. “Okay.”

The building manager was looking in between the both of you, bewildered. He seemed slightly annoyed at the fact that he was being ignored and he tapped his fingers on the table to get your and Jinyoung’s attention.

“Excuse me, I believe I said that the hybrid needs to-“

“I attacked that bastard because he was hurting Youngjae,” Jinyoung burst out. His cheeks were pink and you could see his clenched fists trembling. “I heard the yells. Hybrids have sensitive ears. He keeps Youngjae on a collar and leash inside his apartment, you can see the marks on Youngjae’s neck. He probably has more on his back or under his clothes. I attacked Ilsung to get him to stop abusing him. There’s a reason why Youngjae is always jumpy and scared of everything, it’s because he’s a victim of domestic abuse.”

You stared at him. “What?”

Jinyoung turned and looked at you, his eyes wide. “You don’t believe me?”

“No, I believe you-“

The building manager frowned. “This is absurd. There have never been any complaints about Ilsung or his hybrid, they’re perfectly fine. This hybrid is the violent one-“

“Call the police,” you demanded.

The building manager gaped at you. “What? There’s no need to-“

“Did you not hear him? This is not about a couple of scratches; that man is apparently keeping his hybrid on a collar and leash and physically abusing him. That’s not a matter of apartment eviction, it’s a crime and if you’re not going to report it then I will.”

The building manager scoffed. “With what witnesses? This one out-of-control-hybrid?”

You were livid. This man was honestly just taking his disrespect way too far. You glared at him and stood up from your seat. “Why the fuck can’t Jinyoung be a witness? He has two functioning eyes to see with and a mouth with which he can tell what happened, isn’t that enough for you? Do you seriously want me to call the police myself and tell them that the building manager got a report of domestic violence towards a hybrid and refused to act on it?”

“No, I-“

“Then fucking call them. I’m going to wait here until you do. Jinyoung, go upstairs and get Youngjae out of Ilsung’s apartment. Take him to our apartment and you both wait there until the cops come, okay?”

Jinyoung looked at you for a long moment and then nodded, standing up and hurrying out of the room.

“We’ve arrested him on his way back from work, he’ll be spending some time in a cell,” the police officer informed you quietly. It had taken a while for the cops to come but once they had, they had easily recognized the bruises on Youngjae’s body as evidence of abuse. There were dark bruises around his neck where a collar had clearly been placed. Youngjae was in Jinyoung’s room at the moment, the two of them waiting for the investigation to finish up.

You sighed. “I had no idea Ilsung was abusing Youngjae, I’ve lived next door to him for so long…”

“It’s only too easy for humans to abuse their hybrids. They can’t even run away or seek help because they’re not allowed to disobey their owners,” the officer explained.

You winced. “That sounds so awful…”

“It’s not all as cute and pretty as it seems,” the officer replied with a sigh, pocketing his notebook. “Well, the arrest has been made so we’ll leave you alone for now. Your hybrid did a good job reporting this and we’ll get in touch with you if we need further evidence from him. We’re going to take the victim to a shelter.”

You blinked. “A hybrid shelter? Can’t Youngjae just stay here with me for now?”

“Not unless you officially adopt him. You’ll have to go through some documentation for that. Besides, we have special homes for hybrids who are victims of abuse, he’ll be better off staying somewhere he can get professional help. He looks pretty shaken up to me.”

You nodded, you couldn’t argue with that. It was probably better that Youngjae went to a home where they knew how to deal with abuse victims because you sure as hell didn’t. You turned away from the officer and noticed that Jinyoung was standing in the doorway to his room, watching you silently. You gave him a small smile and he blinked back, looked surprised. His cheeks flushed pink and he avoided your gaze, going back into the study.

Once the police had taken Youngjae to a shelter and cleared out of your house, you slumped back onto your bed with a sigh. It had been a long day; you couldn’t believe that nearly failing your Economics paper was the least eventful thing that had happened to you. Thinking about your education made you feel miserable and you sank back into your bed, wishing you could just forget about everything and make your pounding headache go away.

You heard a knock and your eyes shot open. Jinyoung was standing in the doorway to your bedroom. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sorry, were you sleeping?” he asked awkwardly. “I can… maybe later-“

“No, come in,” you mumbled, sitting up. Jinyoung looked nervous as he entered your bedroom and shut the door behind him. It was surprising to see him look at you with such a soft and shy expression; he’d been doing nothing but glaring at you for the past few days. “I was just resting my eyes. Is everything okay?”

You suddenly noticed that he had a mug in his hand and he held it out to you gently. “You looked like you had a headache, so I made coffee,” he mumbled.

Wow. “Thanks,” you took the coffee from him and blinked. “Do you want to sit…?”

He blinked at you with wide eyes and then nodded, sitting down on the edge of your bed. It was obvious that he wanted to say something and you waited for him to speak, deciding not to pressure him. Jinyoung took a deep breath and then looked up at you with a surprisingly soft smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

You stared at him. “For what?”

“I… I haven’t been easy to deal with for the past few days. And it only makes it worse that you apologized for your behavior earlier, but I didn’t get to apologize for mine. I was the one who treated you badly right off the bat so it’s no wonder that you didn’t see any reason to trust me. I’m sorry for giving you a difficult time.”

His words sounded so genuine that you felt warm inside listening to them. Part of you was relieved that Nari had been right; that Jinyoung wasn’t a bad person and that he was only behaving this way because he’d been having a hard time. His cheeks were pink and he looked up at you nervously, waiting for your reaction. You couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“I really appreciate you saying that,” you told him gently.

“And… and thank you for calling the police and making sure Youngjae was safe,” Jinyoung muttered.

You bit your lip. That wasn’t something amazing that you had done, anybody would have behaved the same way. “If you knew that Youngjae was being abused, why didn’t you say something to me sooner? We could have called the cops. Why did it take you nearly getting thrown out of the apartment to open up about it?” you wondered.

Jinyoung sighed. “Youngjae asked me to keep quiet. And it’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“Because people don’t believe hybrids,” he told you. “I’ve seen hybrids who have been abused by their owners before. There were plenty of them back at the shelter. Approaching other humans and asking for help rarely goes well; most of the time it just makes things worse for the victim. Not all humans would call the police at the mere word of a hybrid.”

“Then humans are pieces of shit,” you mumbled.

Jinyoung nodded. “I thought so too, until today.”

You scoffed. “Until today? So what, that scumbag Ilsung changed your mind? I can’t believe I thought he was a good neighbor. That horrible man…”

Jinyoung chuckled. You looked up at the unfamiliar sound, realizing that you’d never heard him laugh before. His lips were turned up at the corners, but you were more shocked by the sudden affection you saw in his deep brown eyes. You’d never imagined seeing something like that in Jinyoung’s face but he was looking at you with something close to adoration. He bit his lip and smiled, looking down at his hands clasped tightly in his lap.

“No, you changed my mind,” he told you gently. “Today is the first time a human being ever stood up for me and respected my word as an equal. So thank you.”

You stared back at him innocently, shocked at his heartfelt words. You had never expected that your actions would mean so much to him and your face turned pink. You stared down at the coffee in your hands, unable to formulate words.

And at that moment, Park Jinyoung fell a little bit in love with you.

A/N: Omg, that gif drove me insane, I’m sorry, I know it’s kind of whitewashed but he’s giving the camera such a loving look that I couldn’t resist, lmao. (Also, Jinyoung in plain white shirts is my kink, go ahead and shame me.)

Let me know what you thought about this, guys! I’m thinking of taking the fluff route from here on out but I can throw in more angst if my readers are enjoying it! God, I love writing this series. I hope everyone’s enjoying it too.

#got7 #park jinyoung #got7 scenarios #got7 fanfiction #jinyoung fluff #jinyoung angst #got7 fluff #got7 angst #jinyoung imagines #jinyoung drabbles #got7 imagines #got7 drabbles #got7 hybrid #hybrid!au #jinyoung hybrid!au #got7 fanfic

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saltybouquetofstuff · 7 years ago

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TF2 Highschool AU

OKAY! So, I had mentioned a highschool AU a few days ago and only now am I able to actually sit on a computer and tell you about it. So here’s another Team Fortress 2 AU from my sister’s mind and mine. Sit back, relax, and hopefully you’ll enjoy it.

Demo: Mr. DeGroot is the Chemistry teacher at Teufort High. Absolutely loves Chemistry... and alcohol. Rumor has it that Mr. DeGroot is brewing his own moonshine in the backroom of the lab. At the beginning of every school year, he starts the first class with “I lost my eye in a a lab accident in college because my mates and I did something stupid. So I don’t want to see any of you without goggles on in the lab.” Needless to say, most kids wear their goggles.

Soldier: Of course this man teaches history! What did you expect? Well... some kind of weird version of American history with a bunch of more or less accurate Sun Tzu quotes. The man doesn’t neccesarily teach from the books and makes his own quizzes. If you’re not a morning person and you have his class first thing in the morning, then you will learn to be a morning person. All of his classes consist of yelling, Sun Tzu, America, war stories, Sun Tzu, and stories of his raccoons. Did I mention Sun Tzu? If you mess up in class, instead of sending you to the office, he will have you do however many push ups he deems appropriate. Some kids have the best arms because of his class.

Pyro: Lunch... person. They wear large dark glasses since they are sensitive to light, a large poofy hair net that hides all their hair if they have any, and, since they are super cautious about germs n stuff, they wear a large face mask to keep from breathing on the food. Most every student thinks they’re weird but leave them be. The staff at the school is full of weirdos, so Pyro isn’t really out of the norm. Occasionally, some part of the meal is burned... but that’s normal any more.

Engie: Mr. Conagher is the Workshop instructor and the Math teacher because he’s just that good. He’s that one teacher that no one really hates. He doesn’t give out too much homework and he makes sure that his students understand that they can come to him when they have questions. If a student doesn’t understand the material, he will let them come in during his planning periods and before/after school and they will rehash everything they need to in order for the student to understand. He doesn’t like to see his students fail. Really nice guy, most kids favorite teacher.

Sniper: The guy is the gym teacher and he loves dodgeball. Especially when it’s the students against him. He has yet to loose. Mr. Mundy is a man who keeps to himself and enjoys his coffee maybe a bit too much. Weights is his least favorite part of Physical Education, but everyone has to do it. The teacher’s lounge has to keep an eye on the coffee supply and make sure it’s well stocked, otherwise, if they run out, Mr. Mundy will NOT be happy. Sorry, this one is really basic... not much to say...

Spy: Mr. Chaput is the Drama teacher and the English teacher. Most students hate him. He’s a tough teacher who often comes off as condecending and snobby. He gives a lot of homework. When he has to drag his freshmen students through “Romeo and Juliet”, he makes it very clear that he hates the play. He directs the school plays which usually turn out fantastic. Yes, he is one of those drama teachers who seems to have a distaste for the sports kids but really, it’s only for Scout. Actually, it’s not real distaste, he’s trying to hide the fact that he actually cares for the kid.

Heavy: Mr. Petrov is the science teacher. Simple as that. Seems big and scary and mean, but is a nice guy and will work with students to understand the material. However, he is definitely a no nonsense teacher. He does not appreciate people who slack off in class, don’t turn in homework, etc. If your homework is late, then it’s late. That’s that. Fun fact; the guy lives in an apartment he shares with Mr. Kopp. Can you guess who that is?

Medic: School nurse. Overly enthusiastic school nurse. This is probably the one school where the students try to avoid going to the nurse as much as possible. Honestly though, he is a sweetheart who will make sure the student in his care is alright. He just has a different way of showing he cares. Which includes talking about the number of different ailments a headache or fever can lead to, what can happen if you leave a broke bone untreated, you know... that sort of fun stuff and already anxious student wants to hear. Yeah, he lives with Mr. Petrov, but they’re not dating or anything. There’s a story to that, that I will elaborate if you guys wanna hear that.

Scout: Jeremy Glenn is the sporty jock who slacks off in class, annoys the English teacher, shows off in PE, and hits on all the girls. He’s a very blunt kid who doesn’t seem to have a filter, but he doesn’t mean to say hurtful things... he’s just really bad with words. Jeremy tries to play the ‘cool kid’ and avoids reading and writing (and work in general). He’s the star baseball player, and does really well at the bat and playing in the outfield, earning him the nickname ‘Scout’.

#Team Fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 demoman #tf2 engineer #tf2 heavy #tf2 scout #tf2 pyro #tf2 medic #tf2 spy #TF2 Sniper #tf2 soldier #high school au #I told you guys I'd post it eventually #let me know if you'd like me to elaborate on anything #I decided to not introduce my oc #if you wanna meet my oc let me know

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janeykath318 · 7 years ago

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Christmases With Bones

This is my Star Trek Holiday Fic Exchange gift for @bubblegum-star-trek

Hope you enjoy!! (Bones x Reader)

Five Christmases with Bones 1. (first meeting) You were spending the winter break at the academy when you first met Dr. Leonard McCoy. It was your second year and you had no way or desire to go home for the holidays, so you worked extra shifts in the small campus cafe to pass the time. Most of the human and about half of the alien student body had gone home and you were left with a fairly peaceful campus, though not really quiet due to the amount of winter holiday parties going on and overall relief of getting a break. You were working in the cafe late one evening, when a tired looking man came in. He was wearing medical scrubs and you judged he’d finished a shift at the hospital. He had scruffy brown hair and a face that was handsome, though lined with exhaustion.

“Can I get a decaf coffee?” He asked. “Sure! Anything else?” You asked, as he slumped onto one of the stools. “Nope. Just need to wind down before I crash. It’s one of those days.” “Ah. You’d think there’d be less injuries with the holidays and less people around,” you commented, as you poured his cup, not envying the stressful hospital environment the man likely worked in. “Yeah, you’d think so, but unfortunately the holidays also bring out the idiots and over enthusiastic partiers,” he informed you. “Also a lot of Stress induced heart trouble from the craziness and drama that happens this time of year. Me, I’d rather work on the holidays. It’s all one big commercial racket, anyway.” He sounded rather bitter and you felt a pang of sympathy for him. You weren’t the only one not enjoying the season. “Here you go!” You said, handing him the steaming cup. “Hope it hits the spot.” He took a sip and a look of bliss smoothed out the stress lines on his forehead. “Yes, it does. Haven’t had a brew this good in weeks. They making you work over break?” “No, I’m avoiding family drama,” you replied, feeling safe talking to this guy. “I’m staying on campus and volunteering at a shelter Christmas Day. In the meantime, I’m working here. It’s kind of peaceful right now and I can actually unwind during the break from class.” “You sounds like a woman who uses her time well,” the man smiled, taking another gulp. “I try,” you said modestly. “You sound like a man who has a heart for fixing people.” “I try,” he echoed, with a half pained smile. “Some days are better, others, well....you just gotta survive.” “Hmm,” You hummed in agreement. “Well, it’s time for me to close things down here, much as I’ve enjoyed talking to you....” “Leonard McCoy,” he supplied, draining the rest of his coffee and tossing the cup in the trash. “And I’ve enjoyed chatting wit you too.....Y/N.” (He read your name off the tag on your navy blue uniform shirt.) You started wiping down counters and tables as he gathered his things to go. Pausing in the doorway, he stated, “I’ll definitely be back. Best coffee and service around.” You stared as his tall, broad shouldered form disappeared from sight, already anticipating the next encounter. 2.On a xeno archaeological dig. As fate would have it, you never really had time to really get to know Leonard McCoy well. He was usually in a tearing hurry when he came by the cafe and barely had time to grab his drink and pay before scurrying away. Evidently, that first night had been an anomaly. You didn’t end up seeing him again until after the Nero crisis and the World saving done by Jim Kirk and the Enterprise. His face was all over the news along with Jim’s and you were secretly very proud of having met him. The man had broken a load of rules to smuggle Kirk on board, which ended up saving the world, and performed an emergency surgery that saved Captain Pike’s life and and kept him from being permanently paralyzed. After graduation, which you thanked your Stars you’d loved to see, You shipped out to your first archeological assignment on The desert planet Thyra. Three months in, You were deep in the study of the ancient culture of Thyra and loving your work, when it was announced the USS Enterprise would be bringing more supplies and scientists within the week. A couple of them were good friends and you made plans to hang out together over the holidays. As you were hanging out in a popular club, talking about the dig, you saw a familiar face walk in beside the famous Captain James T. Kirk. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized Leonard McCoy, the coffee shop regular. “It’s him!” You hissed to your friends. “Who?” “Leonard! The hunky Doctor I served at the Academy cafe!” Sadly, your friends were more interested in the smiling presence of James T. Kirk and abandoned you to flirt with him. Seizing the opportunity, You sauntered over to the Doctor, who was scowling at the loud throng and looking very out of place in the flashy club. “What’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?” You asked suavely. “My idiot best friend dragged me here—-wait, Y/N? Is that you?” His griping was interrupted by the shock and disbelief of recognizing you so far from earth. He hadn’t seen you since before Nero and had suspected you hadn’t survived. “Yes, it’s me,” You said cheerfully. “Long time no see, Leonard McCoy.” “You too. I’d thought you might have died in one of the ships that first responded to Nero,” he admitted, accepting your offered bear hug. “I was sick that day and got grounded,” you said, face growing sad at the awful memory of finding out so many of your classmates were dead along with billions Of Vulcans. “I still deal with feeling guilty about it sometimes.” “I know the feeling,” he replied sympathetically. “But I’m extremely grateful you’re still around. Speaking of which, what are you up to nowadays?” You happily explained the Xenoarchaeology dig and the ancient city you were currently studying. Unlike others, his eyes didn’t glaze over during your long winded explanation and he seemed genuinely interested. “That’s pretty interesting,” he said. “What do the locals think?” “They’re very invested,” You explained. “They want to learn more about their history, but just didn’t have the resources and enough trained scientists. Being in the Federation means they can get plenty of both. How are you finding space?” He shuddered visibly and did that cute scowl again. “As nasty, dangerous, and unpleasant as ever. Aliens keep trying to take over our minds, Jim keeps tryin’ to give me heart attacks and grey hairs at every opportunity and I’m always dealin’ with idiots trying to stick stuff where it was never, ever, EVER meant to go!” You covered your mouth to prevent the giggle from coming out. Starship crew did have a reputation for reckless experimentation at times and you’d heard your fair share of stories. “Oh, dear. Sounds like you deserve some nice quality shore leave, Doctor. I can show you some cozier spots if you want to escape from this madness.” The doctor glanced over at Captain Kirk, who was surrounded by giggling beings, including your friends. “Don’t think Jim’ll miss me much,” He said, turning back to you with a pleased grin. “Lead the way, darlin.’” You ended up spending Christmas Eve cozied up to Leonard in a cheery little pub, reminiscing about Christmas traditions, and bemoaning family angst. “My stepmom is a nightmare and she’s turned my dad against me,” you admitted. “I look for every reason to not go home for the holidays.” “Thus, the cafe job when I first met you?” “Yep,” you sighed. “And since then I’ve only spent one Christmas at home. I love how you happened to show up just as I was starting to get wistful.” “That’s me, Mr. Perfect Timing,” Leonard teased with a bow. “Thanks to you, I won’t be stuck being Jim’s wingman.” 3.Five Year mission It would be another three years before you saw Leonard in person again, though the two of you made efforts to keep up communication. The Enterprise was on a Deep Space Mission And you were busy traveling about going from dig to dig, so messages were unfortunately few and far between. You were staying on the Yorktown during the Krall crisis and were crushed at the news the Enterprise was lost. The thought of Leonard dying before you’d had a chance to have more than a long distance relationship was crushing. You couldn’t find any information for days and resigned yourself to the worst after the terrifying invasion that was finally thwarted by Captain Kirk. Then you were distracted by cleanup efforts until one day you heard a familiar voice arguing loudly with a calmer voice nearby. “I still say you shouldn’t be up yet, Spock! For Pete’s sake, man, you almost died!” “Your concern is noted, Doctor, but I assure you, I am adequately healed to allow light activity. The Yorktown physicians and Vulcan healer have assured me of that fact.” “Hmmph! I’m still not letting you out of my sight.” Whirling around, you couldn’t help yourself from yelling his name. “Leonard McCoy!” He started and looked around, eyes lighting up when he saw you coming toward him. He hugged you so tightly your feet left the ground and you clung to him almost in tears, gently scolding him for scaring you so much and the lack of communication. “I’m so sorry, darlin’” he apologized. “It’s been a crazy couple days with Spock’s injury and dealing with the aftermath and getting locked in long meetings with the Fleet. Let me make it up to you and I’ll tell you the whole story.” “If The Commander doesn’t mind me stealing you away,” you replied, looking at Spock. On the contrary, you thought he looked relieved. “I do not mind. I am quite capable of seeing myself around the starbase without Dr. McCoy’s presence.” Len rolled his eyes, but waved the Vulcan away and soon the two of you had found a cozy little cafe to do your catching up in. And boy did you catch up. By the end of the day, you’d heard his whole story and were thanking your stars he’d survived. “And you managed to fly an alien ship, swoop in to save Jim and land it? What a hero.” He shuddered. “If you call a near crash landing, that is. Jim’s in the doghouse for the next twenty years for tricking me into flying that. I’m a Doctor, not a pilot.” “I’m thankful you’re still around,” you said quietly. “I was so terrified.” “Me too, darlin. When I heard they were aiming at destroying Yorktown, I just about had a heart attack. That was too close for comfort.” You and Len dated quite regularly during the time on the Yorktown and when the new Enterprise left on its maiden voyage, you were on board as a ship historian and cultural expert. There would still be digs when you got back, you reasoned. The long distance was just too much to deal with. That next Christmas, you and Leonard were enjoying a raucous party thrown by Jim and Scotty with food and booze and goofy games aplenty. Also: mistletoe, which you didn’t notice until you were standing directly under it and your sneaky boyfriend was pointing it out with a gleam in his eyes. “I do believe that’s mistletoe, darlin’. You know what that means right?” “It means you want a kiss, you scheming rascal,” you told him with a grin. “Got a problem with that?” He challenged, leaning closer to you. “None At all, babe,” you said with a pleased smirk. “Merry Christmas.” Seconds later, your lips met in the best kiss of your life. Leonard was a master and soon you’d completely melted against him. Holly, Jolly Christmas Indeed. 4.After the memorable way you and Leonard tended to spend holidays, it was only natural that you decided to have a Christmas wedding. Despite still being in space, the Enterprise A did not lack for suitable venues and enthusiastic friends who helped put the event together. Sulu supplies greenery and flowers and Carol and Christine added red and gold ribbons and drapery and arranged everything to make a breathtaking Christmastime backdrop for the ceremony. Jim was pleased to be able to perform the ceremony—Spock standing in as the groomsman. You’d heard plenty of Leonard bickering with the first officer in your time on the ship and thought it was hilarious how much they actually liked each other, despite both denying it vehemently. Thanks to the replicators, the quartermaster, and a genius friend who happened to be very gifted at sewing, you had a lovely dress to wear, rather than your dress uniform. There was a touch of red at the floor length hem to tie it in with the Christmas theme and you were stunned at how lovely it turned out in it’s simplicity. There wasn’t any train to deal with and you could happily dance the night away without getting tangled. Len seemed to appreciate it, judging by his face when you made your grand entrance and the many, many compliments he gave you during the course of the wedding festivities. The Captain, resplendent in his own dress uniform, couldn’t stop smiling the entire time he officiated the ceremony and he led the cheers when Len kissed you. “Best Christmas Ever!” You breathed, after he’d left you properly weak in the knees. “I can’t disagree with that statement, Mrs. McCoy,” he said low in your ear, causing you to giggle and go hot with delight at the term. You’d make sure he never griped about celebrating the holidays for the rest of his life. @outside-the-government

@yourtropegirl @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse

@medicatemedrmccoy

@southernbellestatues

#its beginning to look a lot like Star Trek 2017 #leonard mccoy x reader #bones x reader #holiday fic exchange #the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff

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yoosungshoodie · 7 years ago

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discoloration. (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ)

CHARACTERS: yoosung kim, saeyoung choi, mc (will be named later.) WORD COUNT: approximately 1.7k. WARNINGS: none. GENRE: angst.

AO3 LINK

So this is my first Yoosung fic, focused on Yoosung x MC x 707, and MC is a student at Yoosung’s university. I can’t reveal too much since it’ll be continued in later chapters. Funny enough, I finished this fic and didn't have a title for it. I wanted this out by seven o'clock and the title was decided at 7:07 (Thanks to Shauna @ @2bedroom-baddestbidderlove), which is also mentioned in the work itself. Please give me any feedback in the comments or send me an ask about it, I worked really hard on this and I’d like to know what people think; I’ve never written Yoosung really before this.

Yoosung always finds solace in children’s parks. They were echoed joyous screams into clouds with maternal smiles etched into sanded-down crevices, and if he thought long enough he could remember his mother’s laughter from years ago. This time wasn’t much different, he sits in the park to remember whatever memories he could, strangely wishing he could go back.

He doesn’t want to go back for nap times or fresh packed lunches, though. He wants to go back to forget her, her and him, him and her, his lips about to touch hers, everything had always gone back to her—

He realizes he has to stop himself before he starts yelling again. A cracked digital screen tells him the time is 3:26 AM and that he’s been in the park for approximately two and a half hours. A hand was halfway able to rub his eye before he feels a painful sensation from his cheek. He nearly forgot about how bruised his cheek is, or how there’s dried blood on his forehead.

There’s a part of him—the reasonable part—that tells him he needs to get home and call it a night. However, another part warred furiously within him, asking more than needed when he had nothing else to offer. It’s that part that causes him to be where he is now, with emptied cans of beer next to him.

He wishes things were different . His thoughts weren’t even his anymore, not when he thought about her that much. There’s a moment of pause in drunken stupor that he wonders where it all went wrong—really went wrong—for him to end up there at the moment.

Resignation comes in the form of him laying down a children’s structure and looking towards the stars for some kind of answer. He feels like a kind of cosmic joke, with the name of a star and his capabilities falling short of being one.

It’s not going to be you , he thinks bitterly. And of course, it wasn’t. There was always going to be something about Saeyoung that was inherently better—improved—because he was a genius even if his life was falling apart, even if all he did was eat trash he remained in top shape, and because of a million other reasons Yoosung could list if you asked him to.

All of Yoosung’s flaws scatter around him like old photographs of memories he doesn’t want to remember. As much as he hates the memories, it never stop him from looking at them and hating himself even more for it. He wishes he was more, not simply the shell of a person he used to be.

It’s all he thinks about before the energy inside of him dissipates entirely, leaving him with nothing but painful memories and an even more painful bruise on his face. He falls into a dreamless sleep; one that didn’t feel like sleep at all, yet time got lost all the same. For now, it was the best he would get.

When he wakes up the next morning, a headache and his phone alarm going off is the first to greet him. His phone indicates alarmingly that it was seven o’clock, or to be more specific, 7:07 AM. Yoosung scoffs incredulously.

The walk back to his dorm is as bad as it can be with a hangover and a blossoming bruise that obscures vision from his left eye. And while he stares at his smoky breaths that curl and fade into nothingness, he considers what had just occurred in the past twelve hours; his intoxication is no longer there to defend him anymore.

When he thinks about Saeyoung, he no longer thinks of comical wigs and chocolate milk and fiery red hair. Instead, he thinks about the violent swing of his fist and the fire that encompassed itself in his eyes instead of his hair.

He has to pause his thoughts as he feels bile in his throat rising, and the memories are pushed away further. His brain isn’t mentally prepared to process everything yet, not with the faint pounding that resounds in the back of his skull as a gentle reminder.

There’s a shrill ring that resonates in the air momentarily—he has to think through the headache to remember it’s his ringtone—before he pulls his phone out of his pocket to check who it was.

He pauses. The street pauses and the world pauses with him, a white noise static filling the gaps of his brain while he registers if he’s seeing things right. It’s her.

He doesn’t hesitate to pick up. It’s her familiar and gentle breaths over the receiver that confirms it’s her, and his heart blares in his chest all the same. The sound, as little as it was, soothes him, suddenly melting away the fatigue from his features.

Just for a little bit, he wants to pretend that she’s his. He wants to pretend that she’s going to tell him good morning and if they’re meeting up for sandwiches at the overpriced shop they always go to, as if she can ever love him as much as he loves her. He loves her, he knows this, and sometimes he hoped she loved him too.

“Hey… are you okay?” Her voice is smaller over the phone; he wonders why. The wind is enough to overpower most of her voice, and suddenly he feels his throat catching as he tries to reply to her.

“Yeah. I’m alright, I guess.” Yoosung remembers the metallic taste in his mouth and it’s as if he’s being hit again. He doesn’t say anything more, and an uncomfortable silence hangs between the two that makes Yoosung walk a little faster.

It feels endless as he makes an effort to step on the dried leaves that blanket the sidewalk, so he focuses on that instead of the lingering feeling that makes his fingers shake. She breaks the silence first, before he can think of anything to say. “I think we should talk.”

“Okay. Meet me at the college cafe.”

There’s a pause at the other end of the line again, and for a second he thinks she’s going to say no. His chest constricts at the possibility alone.

“I’ll be there in thirty.”

“Okay.”

The short and strained conversation leaves Yoosung somewhat disappointed. Although he isn’t sure what he expected to begin with, it still leaves him hollow, somehow.

The cafe isn’t a far walk from where he’s at. It’s a quaint store that overflowed with memories in every corner and fissure, mostly of her and of the laughter they shared. Even if they were tattered memories, he wears them now in the form of weary eyes and a rickety chest.

It’s easy to make a home in the past when nothing ahead seems desirable, and it’s not an unfamiliar feeling to him; he’s done it before with somebody else that was special to him.

When he arrives, he can’t help but recount the memories in fragments as he notices the familiar aroma of coffee and the lowly-lit lights that were always overpowered by the sunlight outside.

“They make the best coffee here.” She had told him once during the spring. She sat before him with her elbows on the table and hands clasped around the cup.

“Does that mean my coffee is only subpar in comparison?” Her laughter was always wind chimes and bells to him. Mock offense scribbled itself onto his features when he sat back with his arms crossed.

“No, not at all! To be fair though, you were only in that coffee brewing class for a week.”

“ Right, my coffee may be below average but my latte art was amazing.” Yoosung’s fake defense melted away into smiles and shared laughter. It was always so easy with her.

“Yes, Yoosung. Picasso is absolutely shaking in his boots.”

“Thank you, thank you.” They had always seemed so above it all, as if they were something more than just stumbling students at college. With her, he felt like he was more. There was more meaning to life, there was a brighter day and a reason to keep going, and it was as if everything after Rika and before her was simply filler space.

His thoughts don’t let his sentiment survive, however. It takes the familiar ring of chimes from the door to avert his attention towards the patron. He turns so fast he can feel his balance tilt and falter, the hooks of his hangover fastening against the base of his skull.

It’s her, he thinks through the dizziness. He’s suddenly very aware of every flaw to himself when he sees the way her lips thin at the sight of him. He was still wearing the same shirt from last night, bloody collar and all. The bruise he was sporting had blossomed into a bright purple and red, and his disheveled hair was far from an effortless beauty. She frowns, and he wonders if he really does look that bad.

“Hi.” His voice is a silent croak when he meets her gaze and drops it only moments after. He felt shameful, partially because of the way he looks, and partially because of his vague recollection of last night.

“Hey. Uhm, do you… want anything?” The hesitancy that leaks from her voice is what softens his heart, and he knows he would give up anything to demolish the awkwardness that fills the space between them.

“It’s fine, we should sit down.” Mumbles hardly make it past grit teeth when he takes a seat from across her.

Yoosung wants desperately for this to be gone. He wants to destroy the awkwardness, the deafening silence, the way he has to calculate all the words he wants to say before it comes out of his mouth, everything he can about the situation they’ve been placed in. It’s not like he can blame her, though. When he began his relationship with her, he never thought they’d end up where they were, an odd outlier that was never dating nor not dating. They were an almost, a maybe, a possibly.

And he knows he can’t keep pushing away the memories that are too painful for him to remember. That same unreasonable part of him from last night tells him that if he can bury it, pretend it never happened, he can get away with minimal damage to himself. Getting over it was too hard and forgetting was a much more appealing option.

Even if he does that, though, he still gets hurt in the end like he always does—and he hurts her even more. If it isn’t going to be for himself, it should be for her. That way, maybe somehow he can fix whatever had come between them.

#mystic messenger #mysme #yoosung kim #saeyoung choi #707 #luciel choi #mystic messenger fanfiction #mysme fanfic #mysme imagine #mystic messenger imagine #cheritz #mm fanfiction #mysme fanfiction #idk the fucking tags honestly

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conundrumdumdum · 7 years ago

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Loved Too Well

(Warning: this story contains themes that may be unsettling to some)

The jingle of bells blended into the light chatter of the small bakery as I pushed the front door open. Within the first few steps, I was enveloped with warmth, the interlaced smell of coffee and baked goods. Windows spanned the front of the store and one of the sides, allowing plenty of light to illuminate the wafting steam from cups and the smiles of people enjoying their day. This bakery was in the heart of a college campus in the city, a crossroads between corporate folk and students. Despite the wintry urban landscape that painted the windows with monotone colors, the interior of the restaurant was a warm, welcoming brown. Along the windows, booths with high wooden backings created private enclosures; a commonplace where young couples shyly interlaced their fingers and sheepishly smiled at each other. I walked between several rows of couples and people typing on laptops before I reached the end of the booths.

Peering around the final wooden backing in the row, I found a man hunched over a newspaper. His black hair was peppered with gray strands, matted against his head and encrusted with a scattered layer of dandruff. From the side of his face, I could see that his beard also had the same speckled color as his hair. And although unshaven, his cheeks were hollowed.

“Oscar?”

His bowed head rose up, and I was welcomed with a weak smile and upturned eyebrows that framed a pair of swollen eyes. I took the seat across from him and he waved the waitress over. After pouring each of us a cup of fresh coffee, Oscar looked at me again with a moderately warmer smile than before. I was finally able to get a good look at him: his green eyes were rimmed with webbings of red veins, which fed into the blushed skin around his eyes. The rest of his face was translucent in contrast, with a texture similar to dried flower petals. I smiled back and hastily took out my notepad and pen from my bag. I didn’t want to make this meeting any harder on him.

“Well, before we get started, tell me more about why you picked this location.”

“Desiree always wanted to come here every Friday after her classes. We talked about anything that came to mind. It was amazing – there was never a moment of silence between us.”

Glancing down at the mug in his hand, Oscar swirled his coffee around. “That was ten years ago. Her favorite’s the cold brew. I always tried to tell her that the cold brew here was just ice cubes and the black coffee they made the day before – this isn’t a real coffee shop. We debated that one for at least an hour.”

Oscar smiled, lifted the mug to his lips, and tilted his head back, sipping his coffee. “She always wanted to win our little debates.”

I glanced up to survey the shop: From the front, I could see the waitress making her way around the tables collecting empty mugs and plates. Her voice was chipper as she joked around with a group of people dressed in suits. She knowingly whisked past the tables with the young couples who were too busy staring at each other to notice anything around them. When I shifted my gaze back to Oscar, I found him staring at the wall behind me with empty eyes, mouth pressed together in a firm line.

“Do you want to talk more about Desiree and your relationship with her?”

Oscar’s eyes immediately dropped from the wall to his half-full mug. After a few seconds, the edges of his lips curved up slightly. I flinched as he suddenly broke his statue-like stance and stuck his hand into his coat pocket to rummage around. His hand extended outward and produced a lint-covered midnight blue velvet pouch. I took it into my palm and pulled at the gold thread that closed it. Inside I saw a glimmer of silver. I pinched the rim and lifted it out of the bag to examine it closer: it was a silver ring topped with a small diamond that sparkled in the sunlight softly falling through the coffee-shop window.

“After dating for two years, I realized I really loved her. Even though she moved to France for work, I knew she was the one. With everything that we went through and all of the memories we made, I knew I was going to propose to her…”

“What happened?” I asked.

“It just didn’t happen,” replied Oscar. He hastily grabbed the pouch from my hand and stuffed it back into his pocket.

“What didn’t happen? I mean, I don’t want to assume, but was that the time when she—“

“NO!” Oscar yelled. His sudden outburst made him withdraw into his seat and stare down at his cup again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off.”

“It’s okay,” I replied. “It’ll help both of us if you just tell me about it. No rush.”

Sighing, Oscar looked out the window. The snowflakes that collected on the glass slowly collapsed into water droplets. Watching the droplets collect together and trickle down, Oscar continued: “I was packing my bags and was going to board my flight to France that night. To make sure all of the pickup plans were confirmed, I tried calling her but it went straight to voicemail. Without thinking too much about it, I just assumed she was tired from work and wanted to sleep early so she could pick me up in the morning. So I rounded everything up and headed to O’Hare. As the plane was boarding, I checked my phone and I had 4 missed calls from Desiree. I put my phone on silent because of customs and border control – which took about an hour or so to get through.”

Playing around with his coffee cup, Oscar peered up at me and continued: “What went through my head was that she got sick in the middle of the night and wanted me to get a taxi to her place when I got there – which I would have been fine with, she has such a busy schedule. I wanted her to sleep early and not worry about me, so I called her immediately.

“There was no response. I got nervous then – I didn’t know what to think. I was so worried about her that after I landed I ran out of the airport without my check-in luggage. Thankfully she gave me her address earlier on when we were first planning the trip a few months beforehand. The taxi driver was able to get me to her place quickly.”

I scribbled a few notes on my notepad about his encounter. His fingers that were nervously rotating the coffee cup earlier had stopped their fidgeting. The skin around his nails was white and seemed rigid as his fingers flattened against the mug. When I looked up I saw the redness that emanated from his eyes had spread to his whole face. Little twitches from the side of his mouth made tremors in his unmoving face.

“Oscar? Are you alright?” I asked.

“I need a light.” Standing up, Oscar buttoned his coat and took out a lighter. “I’ll be back in a bit, feel free to order anything to eat. I’ve been keeping you for a while.”

His face was still stiff as he turned around and walked towards the entrance. The waitress that had been previously been juggling customers was handling the booth next to us. When Oscar passed her, she gave him a weak smile and made her way to our table. A jingle of bells signaled his exit.

As if on cue, she poured more coffee into our mugs. She smiled at me. “Are you his friend? I haven’t seen him meet with anyone here before. He’s always sitting here reading his newspaper – no phone, no laptop, not even a Nook or tablet. Who even reads newspapers anymore? I haven’t touched a newspaper except when I had to paint a vase for my art class!”

“I guess you can say I’m a friend. I’m trying to…figure out his situation.” Glancing to the front of the restaurant, I could see Oscar through the windows that lined the front of the store. Puffs of white smoke alternated with the condensation of breath that floated from his mouth. The snow slowly dotted his black peacoat. After checking that he’d be away for a long enough time, I turned back to her and asked, “Since you see him so often, what do you know about him?”

The initial warmth that radiated through her smile was replaced by a scraggly scowl. “Ever since I started working here, he’s been a regular and always seems to be so…distracted.” She stared at the newspaper on the table. “I didn’t bother to notice before, but it seems like he brings in that exact copy of that newspaper every time. He always stares at it, and never seems to read anything else in the newspaper except one page. That’s all I got – hopefully you can figure him out and get him the help he needs.”

She walked away with her coffee pot to the kitchen. Left to my own devices, I picked up the newspaper on the table. It seemed to be in all French, titled Le Parisien. From what I could guess, it was an issue from 2010 in either June or July – whatever “juillet” meant. Scanning the front page, there were two pictures: one of the World Cup and in the lower right-hand corner was a picture of a blonde-haired woman with a pretty face. Her smile was bright and blue eyes seemed to shimmer even through the faded print of the newspaper. She seemed like she was in her mid-20’s.

A jingle of bells shook my focus and I quickly pushed the newspaper back to its original location. Taking my fresh cup of coffee to my lips, I watched Oscar as he made his way back to our table. He seemed to be more relaxed than before.

“Sorry about that, where were we?” he asked, stripping off his coat.

“We were talking about when you flew to France,” I replied.

“Oh, right.” A few moments went by before Oscar continued: “I reached her apartment and knocked on her door. There wasn’t any response so I knocked harder and louder. I didn’t know why she called me and my thoughts went through every possibility: she could have been robbed, she accidentally hurt herself, or she tried to go somewhere during the night…I thought of everything!

“I knocked so hard that her next door neighbor came out and shushed me. She couldn’t understand what I was saying, but I guess she knew that I was worried about Desiree. She helped me call her landline…yet we didn’t hear any ringing from inside the house. I was close to calling the police at that point and was asking the neighbor for the local police number. Just as she finally understood what I was saying and was about to give me the number, the door to Desiree’s apartment opened…”

Oscar’s face crumpled into his hands and his voice became muffled and wobbly. “There was a man who answered the door, with no shirt on. I was so fucking mad. I wanted to kill him but I knew deep down it was too late…”

His words morphed into a stream of sobbing as he laid his hands and head on the table. Taking napkins from a dispenser on the table, I pushed them into one of his hands and proceeded to rub his arm from across the table.

“Take your time.”

Using the napkins, Oscar blew his nose and dried his eyes, which were now bright, glowing red. I let him take his time to recollect himself. Without prompting him with further questions, he looked me in the eye and said “when I finally was able to see her face to face, I didn’t see Desiree – it wasn’t her! Her eyes were emotionless, completely dead. She’s usually always so joyous and shines her bright smile to everyone. Before shutting the door on my face, she only told me one thing: ‘I thought you weren’t going to come.’”

Oscar filled his lungs with a deep breath before continuing: “I didn’t know what that meant. We had been planning for me to come visit her months prior. I bought the tickets so far in advance too! It’s not like it was going to be a surprise to her. She even told me she was excited to show me around the river and the Eiffel Tower! I don’t understand what happened between us. Was it because of the distance that she decided to fuck another man? What did I do wrong? We had a future. We had everything set out before us. I gave up so much in my life to be with her – I wanted a life with her. I was going to fucking propose to her. I laid down in front of her door and started begging and crying for her to talk to me…”

Waiting for Oscar to end his rant, I jotted down a few notes from time to time. He went on for a few more minutes talking about his confusion about the whole situation. It was only after he noticed that he been running in circles with his thoughts that he stopped.

“I’m sorry, I just…I can’t come to terms with it.”

“That’s okay, I won’t keep you for much longer to dwell on this. I have just one more thing to ask you about and we can go our separate ways.”

Looking up at me, Oscar silenced himself, lips still quivering.

“Can you tell me what you know about what happened to Desiree in 2010?” I asked.

I saw a brief cringe flash across his face with my question. With that, I expected another outburst of emotion, so I readied my pen.

��About a year after that day, I was finally able to take another set of vacation days off of work. So I visited back in France to try and reconcile our love. But all I remember from that period of time is the image that I wanted to push out of my mind the most...”

“And what was that?” I inquired.

“I…saw a chair knocked over beneath her. There were large piles of mess around her living room—it was so chaotic! She had tied a rope around—I don’t wanna talk about this in detail actually, if that’s okay. I can’t sleep at night because of this. I ended up shutting the door on her because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing…I didn’t know she was going to end up like that. I just had no clue…I fully believe it’s my fucking fault. I deserved it.”

The denseness of the silence that filled the space between us put pressure on my chest. I cleared my throat to relieve myself. “Thank you for sharing, Oscar. I know it isn’t easy to open up about this.”

“Thank you for listening to my story. I’m sorry I’m a mess.”

“It’s alright Oscar. I’ll be reviewing what you said today. Expect a call back later on this week for further instruction.”

After placing a few dollar bills on the table to pay for my coffee, I slipped my pen and notepad back in my bag. Standing up and swinging it over my shoulder, I looked at Oscar, who was staring blankly at the wall behind where I was sitting. Figuring he didn’t want to say anything more, I put my hand on his shoulder.

“Take care, Oscar.”

I proceeded to make my way to the entrance, unwillingly letting the last seconds of warmth absorb into me before I would make my way out into the Midwestern tundra. With the setting sun, the light that filtered through the windows stretched to the other end of the store. The booths were mostly empty except for a college student staring at the screen of his laptop. Everything was quiet, as if the silence that filled the end of our conversation followed me to the door.

Pushing open the front door resulted in the jingling of bells, accompanied by a blast of cold air that encouraged me to tighten my jacket closer to my body. A flurry of snow spun around me as I made my way around the side of the store. I walked along the windows that fed light into the bakery. Upon reaching the edge of the building, I gave one last curious glance into the store to check on Oscar. He was gone.

#short story #fiction #creative writing #story #writing

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michaelfallcon · 6 years ago

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Umeko Motoyoshi: The Sprudge Interview

Umeko Motoyoshi is having a moment.

As VP of Technology at Sudden Coffee, 2018 Sprudgie Award Winner for Outstanding Achievement In The Field of Excellence, and creator of the Rainbow Cupping Spoon Project, you’d be hard pressed to name a more influential and socially active coffee professional in the world today. And now comes CHANGING STRUCTURES, a new event they’ve created in collaboration with the #CoffeeToo project.

Sprudge co-founder Zachary Carlsen caught up with Motoyoshi to learn more about how they got here, and where they’re headed next. From the early genesis of the Rainbow Cupping Spoon—”I wanted to disarm something that scared me”—to global inspirations and new projects, Motoyoshi’s work represents nothing less than a shift in coffee’s traditional power structure. Hundreds of rainbow spoons are now making their way around the planet, in case you had any doubt, and that’s just the start.

For this wide-ranging and candid interview, Carlsen spoke with Motoyoshi digitally from San Francisco.

View this post on Instagram

I would like to introduce everyone to my production assistant, Chip

– He followed @curryemoji home from the bus stop 4 years ago and is honestly a v bad roommate (poops in a box in the living room??!) – and not a good employee (does not even know what a spoon is ??!) – but he is super talented at drooling

and he is a good boy

A post shared by Umeko Motoyoshi (@umeshiso_) on Dec 11, 2018 at 11:03am PST

In the 2018 Sprudgie Awards, you were a finalist in the social media category for @umeshiso_, an honoree for your Rainbow Cupping Spoons, and the winner in the Outstanding Achievement in the Field of Excellence. First I just want to say congratulations, Umeko.

Thank you! I appreciate that so much, and I appreciate Sprudge for creating these awards, and the community for engaging in such a thoughtful and passionate way.

You’re the VP of Technology at Sudden Coffee and also freelance. Tell us how you got there!

As we know, cafe equipment only breaks at the worst possible times. I used to manage cafes, and it felt hard to be at the mercy of a technician’s schedule when steam was shooting out of the espresso machine. I tried apprenticing with an espresso tech, but he kept pressuring me to sleep with him. So I paid out of pocket to take La Marzocco’s technician training course. It was really life-changing for me. I had always loved La Marzocco machines, and learning how to repair them just made me fall deeper in love.

La Marzocco also connected me with Daymond Jordan, who refurbished and modded their machines in Seattle. It felt like a really big deal to have folks from La Marzocco support me in that way—at that time I had never even met a woman espresso tech. I was extremely lucky to apprentice with Daymond, because he truly was a master at his craft. His creativity and passion deeply influenced me, and I carried a mechanical interest throughout every subsequent job in coffee.

So when I ended up at Sudden seven years later, it was a dream job. I jumped in right away with sourcing and designing industrial coffee brewing equipment. Sudden’s founders, Josh and Kalle, were extremely invested in my professional development, and they also gave me a lot of autonomy. They handed me this wild mechanical project, and said, “No one’s ever done this before, but you can figure it out.” So I did, and I kept doing more projects, and eventually I ended up with a VP title.

A few months ago, I started taking on freelance work—mostly writing and mechanical projects. The writing is focused on creating HR policies, manuals, blog posts, and handbooks for coffee companies, and I’m also writing a book this year.

I’m also interested in working with specialty coffee companies who are getting into the RTD space. It can be challenging to find scaled brewing solutions that deliver consistent high quality and shelf stability. And operationally there can be so many challenges, too. But I really believe in RTDs as an important way to make specialty coffee accessible to a new audience. So it’s exciting to me that my work over the past few years puts me into that space in terms of experience.

Over the past month, I’ve been transitioning into full-time freelance work. I’d like to focus on writing, community organizing, building cool coffee science projects, and growing my webshop, Umeshiso. I’m expanding the wholesale part of my business and introducing some fun options like custom engraving.

It is definitely weird to realize that, in a few more weeks, I won’t be at Sudden anymore. I was the first employee, and I can’t begin to express how much it means to me. I know it’s normal to transition, and I am proud of myself for starting my own businesses and being responsive to my own development as a human. But I will miss the team a lot! So it’s a tender time for me right now, with a lot of growth and looking forward, while I honor everything that has brought me to this place.

Your father led tea ceremonies. Where and when? Tell us more about this, and how that influenced your life/career.

My dad’s name was Paul Motoyoshi. He was one of the funniest people I’ve ever met, and one of the smartest, and kindest, and most eccentric. He was born in a US concentration camp during World War II, and after the war there was intense pressure on Japanese Americans to assimilate. But no one on the Japanese side of my family gave two fucks about what they were “supposed” to do. This landed some of them in prison a few times, for protesting different oppressive structures throughout history.

So my dad, coming from Motoyoshi blood, didn’t give a fuck about the pressure to assimilate. I’m very proud of my dad’s accomplishments—he was incredibly hard-working and studious during his childhood, was an Eagle scout and a valedictorian, and got a free ride scholarship to Harvard. And I’m very proud that he did all this while actively engaging in learning about Japanese culture, writing poetry in Japanese, learning Japanese arts and Japanese cooking. He became a Japanese tea ceremony master in his thirties and taught tea throughout his life.

Tea ceremony, and specifically the way that my dad taught it, impacted me tremendously. I learned from him that ritual is sacred and it also is warm, and kind, and should be offered with humility. I learned that something as simple as preparing a hot drink for someone can hold more feeling and meaning than words can express. When there are no words, there is ritual.

So it was kind of destined that I would get into specialty coffee and that I’d pursue it passionately. But I was also heavily influenced by the humor that my dad brought to his teaching. He liked to start his classes all dressed in his beautiful Japanese tea robe, and he’d get up and very sternly tell his students that tea ceremony was incredibly difficult. “It’s very hard, so listen very closely,” he’d say. “You boil water… and then you make tea.” Everyone would burst out laughing, and from there the classes would be very interactive and funny. He was such a great teacher because he made people laugh.

I think it’s so important for us to make specialty coffee welcoming in this way, human and funny and kind and unexpected. It’s no accident that I am my father’s child, and I ended up making specialty instant coffee for a living!

I wanted to talk about your Honoree designation in the Sprudgies “Best New Product” category. Tell us about your glorious rainbow cupping spoons!

Aw man. So, I have cupping trauma. The cupping table can be a huge opportunity for everyone’s insecurities to come out. And some people’s insecurities come out as them being really insistent on their rightness, punishing coffees super severely just to show off, and engaging in a wide range of other macho maneuvers. When I first started attending cuppings, it was usually all white dudes and then me with my little pink pixie cut and bright outfits, and the way they talked about the coffees scared the crap out of me.

It’s so weirdly traumatizing to be told that someone’s ultra specific and arcane tasting notes are empirical fact. Like, that his mouth is basically the same as a liquid chromatography chamber. Throughout my early twenties, I just kept trying to figure this out, because it made no sense to me. Yet I was surrounded by People In Charge who kept insisting that there was only one right way to taste a coffee.

Over time, as I researched and researched and talked with food scientists and chemists, I established for myself, for my own knowing and peace of mind, that flavor is truly subjective. That different people perceive different things in coffee, and scour their own unique bank of sense memories to arrive at a tasting note. That when I said pine, and that white guy with a beard corrected me and said cedar—we both were right, because there is no right.

And then I was mad about it. I was mad that I’d spent so many years having my reality questioned on a daily basis. I wanted to scale the Empire State Building and yell through a megaphone: “Organoleptic perceptions of coffee are not fucking factual!”

Instead of doing that, because it seems slightly unsafe, I decided that I was going to find a rainbow-anodized cupping spoon. I wanted to disarm this thing that had become a source of trauma and anxiety, by bringing my own spoon and my own approach and my own knowing. And my own self.

Last year I had a severe mental breakdown and was diagnosed with Complex PTSD and Bipolar II Disorder. As I recovered, I found a direct supplier of rainbow spoons and established a relationship, and I started mailing spoons out to my friends for free. After I mailed out 75 spoons, I realized I would have to start selling them otherwise I’d go broke. And that is how Umeshiso started.

It’s amazing to me that my cupping trauma and my mental breakdown gave rise to something that has positively impacted people all over the world. Every time someone tells me that their rainbow spoon makes them feel confident at cuppings, I want to cry.

At UK Cup Tasters last year, each competitor was gifted a rainbow spoon. A little girl in attendance became so fascinated with the spoons that she started mimicking the cuppers, pretending to compete. Mat North gifted her a rainbow spoon of her own. It makes me so happy just to be a part of something like that.

There’s so much love for this cupping spoon. I love how they are popping up all over the world. Where have they gone and where are they going next?

I was really, really excited when I was able to get an order through to someone in Iran. It’s so tough to get anything into Iran from the US, so it felt miraculous when the rainbow spoons got through! My customer and I worked together on it, DMing back and forth on Instagram, and it was really exhilarating when the spoons finally made it. It was like, “Fuck our governments. We are just two people who respect and care about each other, and like colorful spoons.”

I also love sending out orders to countries that grow coffee. I’ve sent spoons to Colombia, Brazil, Indonesia, Vietnam, the Yunnan region of China, and a few others. My customers in the UK are awesome, and throughout Europe generally. I ship to every country, so there are rainbow spoons out there all over the world.

Antarctica and Africa are the only continents I have yet to ship to, and I feel like Antarctica may not happen anytime soon. If anyone is going to an African country, DM me so I can send you some spoons to bring! And of course, if anyone knows about some cuppings in Antarctica, let me hook it up with rainbows!

You were also a finalist in the social media category. Your account highlights so many voices in coffee (and the world). Tell us about your current initiative for Black History Month.

Every coffee person is their own person, outside of work, and has their own sphere of influence. So I post a lot of things on my Instagram that may seem, on the surface, unrelated to coffee. Because as we grow together in community, as people, we bring what we learn into our work. And we share our progress with friends who work in other fields, and they bring that to their own spheres. This is how we make our industry, and the world, better.

The US has a massive race problem, and I can’t always speak to that solely through the lens of coffee. Sometimes it’s just like, this is important for all of us as people, and it’s up to us to transform our learning into practical application in our work.

I deeply admire Rachel Cargle, a writer and lecturer at Columbia University. On her Instagram this month, she’s posting daily prompts about significant moments, movements, and figures in American Black history. The intent is for white folks and non-black PoC to research the prompt on their own, which is such a wonderful concept. Black history is American history, but in our schools we mostly just learn about white history, from a white perspective.

I am always googling everything—curiosity just runs in my family—and I also love to share about what I learn. So as I follow Rachel Cargle’s prompts, I take screenshots from my research and assemble them into daily Instagram posts. I’ve learned so much from this, and am now hoping to do some similar work for Filipino Heritage month and Native American Heritage month. For someone like Rachel Cargle to post these prompts, and for FREE, is an incredible learning opportunity. So I want to use whatever skillset I have to amplify her work.

So many white folks and non-Black PoC—I am both—are either uninformed or misinformed about Black history. It’s a huge problem! How can I begin to understand today’s racial dynamics, when my “understanding” is built on an ignorance of history? This ignorance is foundational to the continued functioning of racist structures, while the burden of education almost always falls on Black people, the very people who are harmed by these structures.

Rachel Cargle’s project places the emphasis on white folks and non-Black PoC to take charge of their own learning. She is putting in the daily emotional and intellectual labor to make this happen, and she shouldn’t have to. It should be taught in schools. She is incredibly generous for doing this important work, and she deserves all the credit (and all the monetary compensation). If anyone out there is enjoying the posts I’ve made about her prompts, I encourage you to donate to her! Rachel has a Patreon and you can also make a one-time donation at her PayPal.

Name a few people in world who you turn to for inspiration, encouragement.

I’m super introverted but I also really love community. So I connect with people a lot through Instagram and other online platforms, and I’ve ended up in close friendships with people I’ve never met before IRL. These relationships bring me so much joy and strength.

I live on opposite coast from my friend Kristina Jackson, who works at Intelligentsia, and we’re learning Spanish together. I feel so proud of us! The other day my friend Ashley Rodriguez, who lives in Chicago, Venmo’d me $5 and was like “I care about you, go get a coffee!” Like—just really tender and special shit. I never really had that before, and it grew from community organizing and shared belief.

In real life, my best friend Hana Yoshimoto is a constant inspiration. She has more emotional intelligence than anyone I’ve met. I look up to Jenn Chen and Michelle Johnson so much—they were the first people I saw starting bold conversations about race and gender in coffee. For the first time, I felt like I could be myself and honestly represent what I care about. And it made me want to model that for other people, the way Jenn and Michelle modeled it for me.

And my mom is just fucking amazing. Every time we talk, I learn something new about her. And I’ve known her my entire life. A few years ago, she casually mentioned that she used to work for a coffee business in San Francisco, before specialty coffee was even a thing. The shop was focused on selling roasted coffee, with a coffee service aspect was built into it. My mom talked her customers through the different coffees and their flavor profiles, and she’d make them pour-overs so they could taste the coffees before buying. I’d worked in coffee for ten years before my mom told me that.

She is one of the smartest and most curious people I’ve known, she’s completely brilliant. And she is so lowkey about it. She just does her thing and doesn’t really care if other people notice or not. She teaches me so much about critical thinking, about questioning, about building your own path. I am incredibly lucky that my mom is my best friend. I look up to her so much, and she constantly encourages and inspires me.

What are some things you wish you had known when you started your professional journey?

I wish I had known these three things:

You’re good enough. In fact, you’re extra. Anyone who tells you otherwise is mistaken.

No one will give you permission to do what you want to do. Because they won’t understand it. So you will have to do it without permission.

Informed, supported, and encouraged communities are the most effective means of decentralizing power.

Do you have a favorite book, piece of art, music composition?

I continually turn to Emergent Strategy, by Adrienne Maree Brown. In biology, emergence describes how collective properties arise from smaller individual parts. “Emergent Strategy” examines, with joy and Rihanna references, radical movements past and present – through an emergent lens.

Here’s a poem from the book, that I have saved as the wallpaper on my phone:

i am not afraid of what i came here to do i’m made of stardust we are not afraid of what we’re called now to do we’re all made of god

Adrienne’s work is an affirmation and an inspiration. My understanding of the book shifts each time I read it, and I still do not fully understand any part of it. At the same time, I understand it in my body.

And my favorite movie is Spice World.

You won the Outstanding Achievement in the Field of Excellence Sprudgie Award in 2018. Tell us what that means for you.

To me, it means that the work I’ve been a part of has created positive impact. It means that the connection I feel with my community is real, and the values we share are important. It felt like a huge, overwhelming honor—one of my role models, Michelle Johnson, won this award in 2016, and I look up to her so much. When I voted for Michelle in 2016, and again in 2018, I voted because she is a phenomenal human being and I believe in her, and I see her continually create new possibility in our industry. The Sprudgies have become such an amazing vehicle for change, as the community continues to expand what and whom we celebrate, and why.

The 2018 nominee list was like an A-Team of people who 1. I idolize and 2. Hold identities that, in the past, would have meant them getting passed over, not rightfully acknowledged. So I want to recognize Sprudge for creating the only awards in coffee (I think!) that are given by popular vote. Because it allows our community to bolster new faces and new names who perhaps wouldn’t have been recognized by The Establishment. So thank you!

Tell us more about Changing Structures and the genesis of this incredible project.

When I stepped off the cafe floor in 2016, I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. I was sick of getting paid low wages for extremely skilled work, I was sick of having to put up with harassment from customers, I was sick of the way that asymmetrical power informed every aspect of my experience as a worker. I loved coffee, and I loved service, and through every job I held in coffee I also worked regular floor shifts (because I loved it). But it had been 10 years and I just couldn’t deal with being treated like I was disposable.

It was a great privilege to be able to step off the floor when I couldn’t take it anymore. And when I benefit from privilege, I feel it’s my responsibility to work toward dismantling the structure that allows me that privilege, while denying it to others. There are so many people who work in coffee, who are brilliant, and sensitive, and creative, and who care so deeply about coffee and about the human community. It’s a travesty when they are overlooked and excluded from important conversations—conversations that would benefit from their perspectives. So I envisioned CHANGING STRUCTURES, an interactive panel event, as a direct response to that.

Each panelist has come up against a structure in coffee that didn’t serve them, and didn’t serve their community, and they built an alternative. We want this to be both a how-to and an invitation. We want everyone in our community to know that they are important, and they are needed, that no one is disposable, that everyone has a valuable perspective to bring to the table.

I am so thankful for my co-organizer, Molly Flynn, who founded #coffeetoo. We’ve worked together to make CHANGING STRUCTURES an intentionally welcoming space. Events can be overwhelming for a lot of folks—I often feel intimidated and out of place at them—so we wanted to create the kind of hospitality that many of our guests provide in their cafes.

Someone will be at the door to greet you, thank you for coming, and orient you in the space; to point out the Liberty cocktail bar, the refreshments, where to sit.

We’ll hand out a zine, laid out by Kat Melheim of Coffee People Zine, for guests to read if they’re feeling more introverted, and to take with them for inspiration on our next steps as a community. There’s a section in the zine for notes, and we’ll even have little pink pencils!

We’re also doing a raffle giveaway to benefit #coffeetoo, and we went all out with the prizes. In addition to Umeshiso spoons and other swag, Fellow is contributing an entire matte black EKG and Acaia donated a GOLD Pearl. Which I didn’t even know was a thing! We really wanted the giveaway to be amazing for our guests and our sponsors came through in a major way!

We’ll hear from Radhika Kapur, founder of Third Culture Coffee in Bellevue. Her menu features exquisitely prepared coffee drinks from all over the world, breaking from the US-centric idea that good coffee can only be an espresso, or a light-roasted SO pour-over taken black. The story of her travel and meticulous research is incredible.

We also will hear from Ian Williams, who founded Deadstock Coffee in Portland. A former shoe designer for Nike, Ian combined his love of sneakerhead culture with a passion for specialty coffee. This pairing, combined with a diverse team of baristas, creates a space that feels like home for a wide demographic of guests, especially Black folks and other people of color, who did not previously feel welcomed in many cafes.

Laura Perry, founder of LÜNA Coffee in Vancouver, BC, will share about her path as she shifts conversations about the cost of green coffee. As a green buyer, she continually identifies and creates alternatives to exploitative colonial structures, and has build a completely unique coffee sourcing protocol for her business.

CHANGING STRUCTURES is an invitation to anyone and everyone whose voice hasn’t been heard yet. We want our guests to leave feeling empowered and a part of something, and with tools and stories and examples. And this isn’t just a kumbaya thing—our industry is facing urgent existential crises and we need all hands on deck. There are so many people entering coffee today who are passionate and brilliant and driven, and as an industry we can’t afford to keep excluding them from important conversations. Fuck that.

We’re saying, “Let’s be a part of this together. Here are our stories and our ideas. We want to hear yours.”

You do such a wonderful service shining a light on people and projects in the world. Who is making coffee more wonderful right now?

Thank you! I’m just trying to grow my platform so that more people can stand on it. To be honest, I don’t know how to start answering this question because there are SO MANY PEOPLE making coffee a better place.

And it’s easy for me to name people who are thought of as leaders, but leaders are nothing without community. Our community, in this little part of the world, is working so hard and working together, and supporting one another, boosting each other’s work, earnestly and actively engaged in learning, each unique person bringing their perspective to the table.

I am proudest to be a part of a community, and this community specifically. In a lot of ways, we’re a hot mess, but we are working so hard to change for the better. We’re working so hard to grow. And in other ways, we’re really leading other industries. Most cafes on the west coast now have gender-neutral bathrooms, as an example. And taking a wide view of the industry as a whole. Specialty coffee is the only industry *founded* on the idea that we should pay MORE for raw materials. Because it’s just fucking fair.

So I mean this in complete and total sincerity, not as a cop-out, not as a woo-woo moment: when we work together, as a global community, to improve each other’s lives, we make coffee more wonderful.

Thank you so much for your time!

Thank you!

Changing Structures happens Thursday, February 21st in Seattle. More information here.

Oatly is the presenting sponsor of the 10th Annual Sprudgie Awards.

Zachary Carlsen is a co-founder and editor at Sprudge Media Network. Read more Zachary Carlsen on Sprudge.

The post Umeko Motoyoshi: The Sprudge Interview appeared first on Sprudge.

Umeko Motoyoshi: The Sprudge Interview published first on https://medium.com/@LinLinCoffee

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vixx-is-my-light · 7 years ago

Text

Can I Alohomora Your Heart? (Or Do I Need a Key)

There are two unknown students running around as illegally unregistered animagi and Prefects Wonshik and Hongbin are tasked with catching them

Rabin on a wild goose chase trying to catch two cats

|Ravi/Hongbin|5033 words|

(cross-posted from my AO3 - exo_miracles)

Half the names on the list had already been crossed off. It's only Monday and Hongbin and Wonshik are more than ready to call it quits. Just because they are prefects doesn't mean they should be forced to do slave work like this. It's understandable though why they were chosen for the job by their Heads of Houses. Although they just became fifth years and were chosen to be prefects along with many others, Hongbin and Wonshik are well known in the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw houses as they both exemplify their houses' characteristics.

Hongbin is one of the most hard working and supporting students despite all the sass he throws left and right. When he's in a good mood some of the students swear they see flowers sprouting in his wake when he graces them with his presence (although that rumour may have started due to Sanghyuk's prank that really did make flowers grow anywhere he went). Wonshik on the other hand may not be a total bookworm like most Ravenclaws but he does have a knack for easily learning and even creating his own theories. When Sanghyuk comes begging for help with Potions or Charms homework, Wonshik usually rattles off a load of information that Sanghyuk has to filter through and determine what's actually relevant.

And so they were tasked with what now seems like an impossible investigation. "Really, is it necessary to spend all this effort looking for cats?" Hongbin whines for the nth time. Wonshik shakes his head fondly at his slumped over partner. "You know they're just not normal cats Binnie, they're two students running around in plain sight as illegally unregistered animagi." "That's what I just said." Wonshik shakes his head again before looking at the list again. "Okay so next on the list is...Hyukkie." Hongbin slumps further to ground, "Just kill me now."

The smoke and fumes currently swirling in the air are an acidic shade of green. It contrasts horridly with the fiery red hair of the person brewing the potion. Wonshik looks about nervously before asking, "Hyuk you're sure this stuff is okay to breathe in right?" The younger boy looks up from his cauldron with an innocent look. "Of course it is, do you think I'd be brewing anything that's not textbook safe without permission?" Wonshik and Hongbin share a look, the answer is pretty obvious but neither say anything for fear of pranks worse than flowers. "Okay just answer our questions and we'll leave you to brew...whatever this stuff is." "What's in it for me?" The Slytherin fourth year asks while grinning at them. Hongbin moves forward as if to hit Sanghyuk on his head but shies away when the boy holds up some sharp snake fangs which he throws into the cauldron. "How about help with all your homework for a month?" Wonshik tries. "No." "A new broomstick?" "No." "A free pass to forbidden section of the library?" "No." "New illegal potions ingredients?" "Tempting but no." "What do you want, a dragon!?" Hongbin finally yells in frustration. "Well hyung if you insist, although I was going for food from the kitchens whenever I want. But I'll take the dragon." Hongbin splutters while Wonshik rubs a hand over his face.

"Just kidding, I'll take the potions ingredients." The Slytherin grins unashamedly at them, "Okay I can't give you exact names but I'll give you a hint. An animagus usually has certain features or marks that tie them to their human form right?" Wonshik and Hongbin nod in unison. "And you know what these cats look like right?" "No but I'm gonna skin them alive when we catch them for making us go through all this..." Hongbin's rant is cut short as Wonshik covers his mouth. Hongbin glares daggers at his partner who studiously ignored him. "Two cats, one solid black and the other solid orange. The two have matching white marks on their chests which seem to be a crescent moon and sun respectively." Wonshik rattles off in one breath then removes his hand from Hongbin's mouth. "Right so what brilliant insight can you lend us?" Hongbin asks in a suffering tone. "Obviously you need to find two people with sun and moon markings hyung." Wonshik restrains Hongbin from strangling the younger boy. "We know that Hyukkie but we just can't go around stripping people," Wonshik replies patiently. Sanghyuk smirks at Hongbin who is still struggling to free himself. "The thing is you guys just don't know where to look, but the answer's right there."

Wonshik and Hongbin stop their struggling to stare at Sanghyuk. When they obviously still don't get where he's going Sanghyuk shakes his head in disappointment, stirring some fairy wings into the cauldron. "Exactly why did they choose you guys to be prefects again?" Before Hongbin has a chance to retort Sanghyuk continues, "Obviously they're not birthmarks so they've got to be tattoos. All you need to do is find the artist. And luckily for you I happen to know the only student that does illegal astronomical tattoos in this school." He drops a dried bat wing into the cauldron before looking up at them with an uncharacteristically serious gaze. "But if I tell you who he is you can't report him."

"Why shouldn't we? We only let you off because you're our youngest friend and we like you-" Hongbin makes a protesting noise which Wonshik ignores, "-but it's against the rules to have a tattoo business running and we don't know this guy." "J-just because hyung..." Hongbin stares at the younger boy, observing the stuttering and his cheeks and ears that have been stained red. The kid looks cute and Hongbin wants to squish his cheeks but he restrains himself. He exchanges a knowing look with Wonshik before turning back to Sanghyuk. "Ooh our Hyoggie has a crush~" Hongbin coos in a disgustingly sweet voice. "Okay, okay Hyukkie we'll make an exception just for you." Wonshik hurriedly tells him before Hongbin can embarrass the boy anymore.

Sanghyuk avoids their gaze, stirring the cauldron when he tells them, "He's in Hongbin's house but he's a sixth year. You'll find him on the Astronomy Tower on Friday night after classes are done. He'll talk to you if you tell him I sent you." "Thanks Hyukkie, you helped us a lot. We'll just ask him for help and that's it," Wonshik assures the younger while fluffing his red hair. "Yeah and we'll see if the crush is mutual too or we'll beat him up for you," Hongbin teases as he flicks Sanghyuk's hair up to look like he has two horns. Sanghyuk whines in Wonshik's direction for mercy. "Alright stop teasing him Binnie...although the horns suit him, he really looks like satan now." Wonshik stops when he sees Sanghyuk pouting, "Sorry, sorry we'll stop." Which is a wise decision otherwise the Slytherin's pranks might really escalate from flowers if they tease him anymore.

*****

By Thursday Wonshik and Hongbin had finally finished the list. They had questioned and even followed many students but all the info they got only served to make the job more difficult. A Hufflepuff sixth year by the name of Seokjin said that one night when he had sneaked into the kitchens for a late night snack he saw the black cat drinking a bowl of milk. After the cat had left, looking satisfied and licking his lips, Seokjin discovered that it was not milk the cat had been drinking but coffee. Another student, Minseok, a seventh year Gryffindor, had spotted the orange cat while on his way to the Quidditch pitch one early morning. The cat was walking away from the back of the greenhouse were non-magical flowers and plants were grown. The cat was holding an azalea by its stem in his mouth, trotting along happily back to the castle. And lastly a sixth year Slytherin, Eunji, had seen the two cats curled around each other sleeping in an unused section of the library. When they asked her why she never reported it her reply was that they looked so cute together so all she did was take a picture of them.

At first the picture looked like a muggle picture, unmoving, but upon closer inspection the cats were quietly breathing and their ears and entwined tails twitching. Seeing no harm in the picture they left Eunji with it, the girl squealing about the cute cats and how she wanted to see them again. Needless to say by the end of the day Wonshik and Hongbin were exhausted and both left for their respective dorms with Hongbin muttering about and the lack of common sense and the incompetence of Hogwarts' students and "Why couldn't they have simply caught them and save us all this trouble."

It's Friday and when the two prefects meet up for breakfast they both look tired but still hopeful because it's Friday and they're meeting Sanghyuk's tattoo artist that night. Unfortunately they still have their normal class to attend before night so they both split to go to class. During the day they still see each other and during lunch they see Sanghyuk with his usual partner in crime, Sungjae, at the Slytherin table. Afterwards Wonshik and Hongbin make sure to steer clear out of the way whenever they spot either of the two fourth year Slytherin boys. The day ends without much incident thankfully and the two prefects set a meeting place up for later in the night and meanwhile they finish up homework and their normal prefect duties.

It's one o'clock in the night when Wonshik and Hongbin promised to meet and Hongbin mentally curses the cats in his head while climbing up flights of moving staircases to meet Wonshik. He's a tired mess of limbs, struggling to make it to the tapestry where Wonshik was supposed to be. Just as he's sure he's going to fall right over, strong arms wrap around his waist and move to lean him against the wall. Wonshik is looking at him with careful worried eyes, his icy blue hair falling into his eyes. "Binnie you know I can do this on my own, go back and get some sleep." Hongbin can't help the faint blush, reddening his cheeks. Wonshik is holding him a little too close and he hates seeming like he's weak, especially to the Ravenclaw. He straightens up, dismissing his thumping heart and heated face. "Never mind me, lets go see this artist that managed to capture Hyuk's heart." Wonshik still looks troubled like he wants to say something but he nods instead and leads the way to the Astronomy Tower.

*****

"Jaehwan?!" Hongbin looks at the familiar face of one Lee Jaehwan who's sitting at the edge of the Tower. "Hey Bin, here for a late night star gazing date?" Jaehwan asks suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows meaningfully at Wonshik who chokes on spit when he hears the older Hufflepuff. Hongbin's had enough of this whole blushing thing so he does what he does best and slaps Jaehwan on the back of his head. "No and...wait you're Hyuk's crush? You?! I thought the kid had better taste." Wonshik doesn't even bother to try and stop Hongbin but sends a mental apology to Sanghyuk. "What do you mean by better taste?!" Jaehwan starts off indignantly but stops as he takes in the rest of what Hongbin said. "Oh...Oh...so that's why he's so nice to me and doesn't set snakes on me like Sungjae does." Jaehwan says with a tone of wonder and surprise. Then he starts grinning, "So apparently Hyukkie told you I'd be here, what do you want?"

"You gave two students a sun and moon tattoo didn't you?" Wonshik asks. Jaehwan gestures around him as if the answer wasn't blaringly obvious enough. Now that Wonshik takes a proper look at his surroundings, he sees various vials filled with swirling and glittering ink and parchment with sketches scattered all over the floor. "Uh right, so you did...even though this stuff's against the rules." Jaehwan raises an eyebrow at Wonshik, "I'm pretty sure my little ink patterns are nothing compared to what our little Slytherin friends get away with." Hongbin holds up a hand between the two of them, "Relax we're not going to report you or anything unless we want Hyuk either crying or sending snakes on us, we promised him." "He did that?" Jaehwan asks, grinning again. "Yeah and I promised I'd beat you up if you don't be nice to him," Hongbin says. "Have no fear Bin, you have no need to and besides violence doesn't match that pretty face of yours." "I'll take that as a compliment." "But that mouth of yours also doesn't match your face." Wonshik once again finds himself holding back Hongbin from throttling someone.

After they finally settle down, Wonshik tries to question Jaehwan again. "So will you tell us who the two students are?" "Should I?" Jaehwan asks playfully. "It's not like we want to know," Hongbin says tiredly, "So can you help us or not?" Jaehwan looks at them for a while then sighs. "You guys know you interrupted me right? I was sketching out new tattoos," he says while looking at the starlit sky. Despite knowing better, Wonshik lets his curiosity get the better of him, he's always wanted a tattoo anyhow. "Can we see what the process is like?" Hongbin looks surprised at his request. "Sure if you want," Jaehwan replies easily. He lifts his wand and dips it into one of the vials of sparkling ink then lifts it as he says a complicated bit of enchantment that neither prefects are familiar with. After he traces patterns into the air while looking at the sky through the telescope he has next to him. The ink, sparkling like actual stars are mixed in, remains hovering in the air like intricately woven web. Then with another muttered spell he uses his wand to guide the ink onto the blank parchment. The tattoo is still sparkling on the parchment, a constellation, but Wonshik doesn't remember which one. "Wow, that's actually really cool," he says and Hongbin nods in agreement. "Thank you, at least you appreciate my illegal artwork," Jaehwan says, looking proud. "But I guess that's not gonna distract you long huh?" Hongbin shakes his head in response.

Jaehwan sighs in frustration. He looks like he wants to say something but can't. "Okay I'll help but answer some of my questions first?" The prefects agree, sleepy and just wanting some answers. Jaehwan looks at Hongbin first, "How's Quidditch going this term Bin?" Not the question he was expecting but Hongbin answers regardless. As one of the best Seekers on the team in recent years, Hongbin's always practicing in his free time but hasn't been able to recently because of the cats. He shrugs, "It's okay, we won against Gryffindor but Slytherin's stepping up their game. Taekwoon's the new captain and he's not making things easy for us. They won against Ravenclaw so it's Slytherin versus Hufflepuff for the final match. We have a bet on the outcome. If he wins he gets coffee whenever he wants for two weeks." "And if you win?" Jaehwan asks. Wonshik snickers, knowing the answer as he was there when the bet took place. Hongbin grins, "He has to be Hyuk's personal assistant whenever he's brewing potions for a month." "Ah he's gonna die." Jaehwan shakes his head in sympathy, knowing first hand how Sanghyuk tends to man handle the seventh year Slytherin. Wonshik nods his head in agreement, although he enjoys seeing the youngest bully their quiet friend.

This time Jaehwan asks Wonshik another seemingly random question, "How's the gardening club going these days? I heard there have been some arguments about the non-magical plants you guys are growing." Wonshik scowls in response. "The argument started as a result of some stupid pureblood kid who didn't want 'unnecessary, useless muggle stuff' growing here. But Hakyeon's the captain of the club and he was the one who started growing the non-magical plants in the first place. Not to mention he's the Head Boy so no one's really worried about it." "Oh, that's good to hear," Jaehwan says. "I suppose Taekwoon and Hakyeon are really busy these days, no wonder I don't see them so often anymore." Wonshik and Hongbin nod, not sure where Jaehwan was going with his questions. "We know, they have more duties than we know of but they always try to help us out when we need it," Wonshik says. Jaehwan looks at the prefects for a while before deciding finally, "Okay I'll help you guys figure out who these cats are but only because I trust you not to do anything stupid when you find out."

When Wonshik and Hongbin finally leave the Astronomy Tower they're tired and sleepy and just about ready to drop to the floor and sleep. When they finish the struggle of getting down the moving staircases Hongbin really does slide to the floor. "Leave me, I'm fine here. It's so comfy Wonshik believe me." When he doesn't hear Wonshik reply he raises his head to see the Ravenclaw on his knees with his back towards Hongbin. "Get on, I'll carry you." Before Hongbin can respond Wonshik's already reaching for Hongbin's arms despite the awkward position they're in. Hongbin gives up and leans on Wonshik's back. He wraps his arms around Wonshik's neck as he stands up and lifts up Hongbin's legs around his waist. Hongbin hopes Wonshik can't hear his erratic heart thumping loudly in his chest or feel the heat of his cheeks where it's resting on his shoulder. The walk to Hufflepuff's common room entrance is long but quiet except for Wonshik's humming. The deep sound is familiar to Hongbin as his own voice is. By the time they reach the barrels that mark the Hufflepuff entrance, Hongbin has long since fallen asleep, breathing deeply near Wonshik's ear. Not having the heart to wake him up, Wonshik carries him in, knowing the password and places him on his bed, hoping none of the other students will wake up. After Wonshik returns to Ravenclaw dorms to get what little sleep he can get. At least it's the weekend so he can sleep in.

*****

Wonshik wakes up around ten o'clock the next day feeling well rested and lethargic. It's Saturday and the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Hufflepuff is taking place in the afternoon. He heads down to the Hall for a late breakfast, not even looking for Hongbin as he would most likely be with his team running through tactics for the match. Jaehwan's plan to help them out is supposedly going to take place after the match, although they don't exactly know what the plan is. After lazing about in the common room with his roomate, Namjoon, Wonshik heads down to the Hall for lunch and to find Hongbin. The Hufflepuff, already in gear with his broomstick is seated at his table, eating and spouting reminders here and there between bites to his team members. Wonshik approaches, not sure if it's okay to intrude, but Hongbin simply makes space on the bench next to him while talking to his Keeper, Hoseok. Wonshik takes his seat, non of the team batting an eye, so accustomed to Wonshik and Hongbin being glued to each other's sides. The lone Ravenclaw eats lunch silently, admiring his friend as he encourages his teammates. He would surely make a great captain in the future. Eventually the Hall starts emptying, everyone heading down to the Quidditch pitch and Wonshik leaves too, trailing behind the Hufflepuff team.

Hours later, Wonshik's voice has gone hoarse from screaming too much. All he can do now is wave his banner around wildly whenever a player flies close by. Wonshik's banner is bright yellow and decorated with various flowers, the centre flower, a huge sunflower, has Hongbin's face on it. With some help from Sanghyuk the banner shoots sunflowers into the air every five minutes. After being knocked sideways from Sanghyuk and Jaehwan screaming for the two houses, a whistle is blown and the commentator is shouting over the noise, "Slytherin's caught the snitch, I repeat Slytherin's caught the snitch!" Hakyeon's out on the pitch before anyone else to meet Taekwoon. Wonshik wants to cheer for his friend, Taekwoon, it was his last chance to win and he's deserved it, but at the same time his eyes seek out Hongbin, wanting to comfort him and tell him he did his best. After squeezing his way through the crowd to Taekwoon, he hugs him and congratulates him, making the older boy blush and duck his head.

After congratulating the Slytherins, Wonshik makes his way to the changing rooms that have been emptied by now. There's one person left and Wonshik listens before he enters the room. He hears sniffling sounds that make his heart wrench and his nails dig into his palms. He scoffs at the floor as he enters, announcing his presence. Hongbin startles, quickly straightening up and moving to wipe his tear stained face. Wonshik silently walks up to the him, gently taking his hands and moving them away from his face. "It's okay Binnie, you know you don't have to hide from me." He says softly before wrapping his arms around Hongbin in a hug. At first Hongbin seems unsure of how to respond but then he holds onto Wonshik, clutching at his back and resting his head on Wonshik's shoulder. They remain there late into the night, alone with the sound Hongbin's muffled sniffles and shaky breaths and Wonshik's comforting humming as they hold onto each other.

*****

After they leave the changing rooms, Wonshik and Hongbin head up to the Astronomy Tower to meet Jaehwan as they had planned before. The older boy is there waiting and wisely doesn't say anything about Hongbin's red eyes. "Ah I'm sorry to make you guys come all the way up here, but this the only way to be sneaky about it. He gestures to the two binoculars he has set out. They're the same ones he and Sanghyuk had used during the Quidditch match. "You'll need these but not for another say fifteen minutes?" Jaehwan turns to his usual mess off parchment and ink set out on the floor. With nothing to do but wait, Wonshik watches Jaehwan while Hongbin goes to sit at the edge of the tower. Wonshik watches the tattoo artist before deciding. "Hey Jaehwan can you tattoo something for me?" He asks in a low voice, not wanting Hongbin to notice. Jaehwan looks surprised but agrees. "...Could you tattoo a snitch for me?" Jaehwan hesitates, probably to say he only does astronomical tattoos but he dips his wand into a vial of glittering ink before tracing it out in the air. He doesn't take long like Wonshik thought he would, but he motions Wonshik forward, asking where to charm the tattoo with a silent gesture. Wonshik quickly unbuttons his shirt and places his hand over his heart. Jaehwan's eyes seem to light up in understanding and glances at Hongbin before whispering the enchantment and the tattoo smoothly slides onto Wonshik's skin. It doesn't hurt but Wonshik feels like someone's dumped ice cold water on him. After the strange sensation has passed he fixes his shirt just as Hongbin calls them over, "Hey I think I see them."

Jaehwan and Wonshik move to the edge of the Tower where Hongbin is looking through one of the binoculars. Jaehwan motions for Wonshik to look through the other one. "Yeah that's them alright," he says after looking through the binocular. He turns to Jaehwan, "How'd you know they'd be there?" Jaehwan shrugs, "You notice stuff if you're up here all the time. I only do business on Fridays but most nights I'm up here on my own." Wonshik turns back to look through the binoculars. The two cats are slinking across the grounds in the moonlight, the orange one almost glowing while the black looks more like a shadow. "...They're headed to the Forbidden Forest?" Hongbin asks after following the cats' movements. "Yup they always go there at this time of night." Wonshik and Hongbin track the cats till they reach the edge of the forest. There at the edge, still illuminated by moonlight, the cats transform into their human forms.

"Hakyeon and Taekwoon?!" Wonshik and Hongbin yell in unison. They look at each other before looking through the binoculars again. Barely shaded by the trees, the two boys are talking while leaning side by side on a tree. Then Hakyeon steps in front of Taekwoon and leans to whisper closely in his ear. Then he lifts his arms up to embrace the Slytherin. Oh. Wonshik and Hongbin both look away before they could pry anymore into the intimate moment meant to be witnessed only by the darkness of the night. Both prefects are silent for a few moments, trying to process what they saw. "So now you guys know, happy now?" Jaehwan asks merrily. Hongbin turns to the older boy, understanding finally. "You let us know because they're our close friends and we would never report them, right?" "Yep." Jaehwan agrees. "They know that I know of course. They seem to just be living in the moment since it's their last year. They disappear all the time as cats because they never have time to themselves." "Oh well that explains the coffee and flowers now." Hongbin mutters. "But they could have trusted us and told us! Do you know how many time I've reported to Hakyeon and all the bastard did was smile at me and say 'keep up the good work!'." Sensing more whining from Hongbin, Jaehwan wisely gathers up his stuff and leaves with a cherry "Good night!" and "You better catch this snitch Binnie." Hongbin looks confused at this while Wonshik coughs, seeming to get Jaewhan's message.

The two prefects stare at each other not saying anything for a while. Wonshik is the first to break the silence, after glancing back at the forest, he gathers his courage at last, "Ah fuck it, if the Head Boy's running around with his boyfriend as cats, I can do this." Hongbin makes a small sound of surprise at Wonshik's declaration which turns into a loud squeak when Wonshik starts unbuttoning his shirt. Hongbin's eyes widen at the sight of the new tattoo glimmering on Wonshik's chest. Before he can ask about it Wonshik takes one of Hongbin's hands and places it over the tattoo, on his heart. "Binnie...I-i wanted you to know that no matter how many times you fail catch a snitch you'll always be able to catch this one and what's under it." Wonshik eyes shift, looking embarrassed and afraid Hongbin might laugh. Instead Hongbin moves his hand from the snitch, it's wings shimmering as it flutters slightly. He lowers his head to press a small kiss to the snitch. Wonshik shudders at the feeling of warm lips on his bare chest. Hongbin traces small kisses up to his throat and along his jaw. He stops a breath away at the corner or Wonshik's parted mouth and places his hand on Wonshik's heart again. "I'll never let it go." he says softly before leaning in and pressing his lips to Wonshik's. Their bodies mould to each other's so perfectly, Hongbin wonders why they haven't done this before. Breathless and trembling, Hongbin can't help the small gasp that escapes him when Wonshik's slick tongue teases past his lips to rub against his own. Hongbin's legs feel like jelly and he slides to the floor. He's feeling teary eyed again and Wonshik gently wipes the welled up tears away, silently asking with his eyes. Hongbin shakes his head in response, deciding to ignore all the expectations and responsibilities he has for once. Here he's not Hufflepuff Seeker Lee Hongbin. Here he's happy to be with Wonshik, the boy who decided to give him his heart, tucked away from the rest of the world with the moon and stars as their only witnesses.

*****

"You guys are so shameless, at least Hakyeon and Taekwoon are subtle about it." Wonshik and Hongbin look up, innocent looks on their faces. Jaehwan stares back, unimpressed. "Ever hear about PDA?" They're lazing about under a tree by the lake looking at the giant squid making lazy laps in the water. It's hot so Hongbin's shirt is unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up, head nestled in Wonshik's lap. Running along his inner left arm is a key tattooed in shimmering ink. Wonshik's been playing with his arm, constantly caressing the tattoo and running his fingers over it. "Hey it's not our fault Hyukkie's too young for you too jump him," Hongbin says defensively. "Hey! I'd never do something like that," Jaehwan squawks out, "...Although it's the other way around," he mumbles with a red face. Wonshik and Hongbin snicker, knowing full well how Sanghyuk can be. They hear a funny sound at that, something like a hissy...laugh? There's no one else around so all that's left is up. They look up in the tree to see two now familiar felines settled comfortably on a branch. They gaze down at them with knowing eyes. The prefects shake their heads, too accustomed to the cats hanging around them now. Jaehwan narrows his eyes at them, "Hey quit laughing at me Taekwoon or I'll throw you in the lake for the squid to play with!" The black cat stares back defiantly. Jaehwan throws his hands up in exasperation, "I'm not dealing with all you love birds today." He stalks across the grounds back to the castle. "Tell Hyuk we said hi on your date!" Hongbin shouts at Jaehwan's retreating back. This time the orange cat let out a weird hissy laugh. Wonshik pulls back Hongbin's arm to admire the key glimmering in the patches of sunlight falling through the tree. In return for basically giving his loyalty and heart to Hongbin, the Hufflepuff in return had used Ravenclaw logic. A key to his heart and his love.

#mine #fanfic #vixx #can i alohomora your heart? (or do i need a key)#rabin #ravi/hongbin #what being a potterhead and a starlight does to u..#hp au #wonshik #hongbin #side hyuk/ken and leo/n

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